Location: The Sealed Space — The Crucible of Ascension — Third Trial — The Pillar Chamber — The Altar
The chamber trembled.
Not from the fight—from the presence. The air between the two figures was thick with energy, the space between them crackling with frequencies that should not have existed. Each exchange sent shockwaves through the stone, cracks spiderwebbing across the floor, dust falling from the ceiling.
Naji moved with the fluidity of something that had been fighting for centuries.
His body twisted, his limbs extending, his strikes landing with precision. Each blow released a pulse of pale light that scattered across the stone, leaving behind faint afterimages that seemed to move independently of his body. The air around him shimmered with the colors of a dying star.
The figure—the one wearing Elijah's body—moved with equal grace.
Its strikes were heavier, more deliberate. Each blow was a declaration, a statement of intent. The pale gold and deep crimson energy around its fists pulsed with each impact, sending shockwaves through the chamber that made the pillars tremble.
"You're strong," Naji said.
His voice was cold, almost admiring.
"But your vessel is weak."
He licked the blood that had welled up on his lip.
"Your former self was unworldly might. But the current vessel you're in possession of is too weak to even unleash about one percent of your original strength."
---
Elijah heard him.
From the orrhion chip world, separated from his body, he heard every word. His voice was quiet, almost a whisper.
"That weak?"
"Just who the heck is in my body?"
His thoughts churned.
The Severance, he remembered. The technique I acquired when my Astraseal truly awakened. The first time I saw it—that humangous silhouette in the vision—was executed exactly like this.
So wait—
Can it be?
Don't tell me that silhouette and whoever is in my body right now is the same fellow.
But—
But if I remember correctly, the Mandate is the representation of the seven celestial orbital bodies in the sky. And it only represents one of them.
So there must be six others like it.
Did all of them create the Mandate?
Or is it just a force that got born?
Man, my head is killing me with all of these conflicting thoughts.
His hands clenched into fists.
His jaw tightened.
His eyes—still watching through the lens of his Tenryu—grew sharp.
---
The figure struck again.
Its fist connected with Naji's chest. The impact sent a shockwave through his body, his feet sliding backward across the stone. But he didn't fall.
He laughed.
The sound was cold, hollow, the sound of something that had been waiting for this moment.
"How does it feel to be on the receiving end?"
He stepped forward.
"You know—I wasn't born when you walked these lands. But you were feared by all the top esteemed ones from my race. No matter where you appeared—or even the mere mention of your name—you were like mighty to almost all."
He paused.
"You and your siblings."
He shook his head.
"But blood isn't always thicker, is it?"
The figure's expression didn't change.
But something behind its eyes did.
---
Elijah heard him.
His voice was quiet, almost a whisper.
"Siblings?"
"What siblings?"
"What is he talking about?"
He didn't have an answer.
---
The figure's Tenryu pulsed.
Not gently—violently. The pale gold and deep crimson energy around its body flared, bright and sharp, like a star that had just been born. The air around it grew thick, heavy, pressed down by the weight of its presence.
The sky above the sealed space cracked.
Not the physical sky—the frequency sky. A rift opened in the fabric of the space, and through it, a light poured in.
The color of Mars.
The glow of the red planet, pulsing with the chaotic energy of thunder and storm. It illuminated the chamber, casting everything in shades of crimson and gold.
---
Across Crestwood, the light reached others.
In the Halvern Consortium, a man sat in a darkened office. His face was hidden in shadow, his hands resting on a desk that had been carved from a single block of mahogany. The windows behind him looked out over the city, their surfaces dark and reflective.
The light reached him.
He stood.
His voice was quiet, almost a whisper.
"I can't believe it."
"I wasn't sure before."
"But now—"
His lips curved.
"—now I am."
"Elijah Marcus."
"My old friend."
"I'm just more excited to meet you."
His smile was cruel.
---
In another part of the city, a woman sat in a meeting.
The room was dark, the faces of the other attendees hidden behind a curtain. A screen on the wall displayed a map of the United States, with red and white dots scattered across its surface.
"The Sovik prime minister," one of them said.
His voice was flat.
"He's been getting very cocky of late. Ever since that band of radicals have been screwing with our operations."
"The Albion king in western Europe," another added.
"He's been silent in this."
"And the rumor mongering of a schemed terrorist attack being done by those up in the north—"
"It would benefit us as well."
"Right now, ensuring the steady economical running of the classified programs is the priority. All of this could compromise everything."
"The assets aren't ready."
A figure entered the room.
His face was hidden behind a mask, his hands clutching a tablet. The screen on the wall flickered, the map replaced by an image.
A planet.
Mars.
Glowing with a light that should not have been there.
The woman stood.
Her voice was sharp.
"I want all Intel of what's been going on."
"Everywhere in the world."
She paused.
"Start with Crestwood."
---
In the parking lot of a diner, Caleb sat in his Dodge Charger.
His hands were wrapped around a cup of coffee. His eyes were fixed on the windshield. His face was the face of a man who had given up on hope.
The glow reached him.
It flooded through his car window, casting everything in shades of crimson and gold. He stared at it, his eyes wide, his mouth open.
A voice came from the back seat.
"My dear father."
The voice was hoarse, almost a whisper.
"Don't keep our interesting friend waiting."
"My, I'm excited to meet him."
A hand reached forward.
Its fingers brushed through Caleb's hair, playful, almost tender.
Caleb's expression didn't change.
But something behind his eyes did.
---