Location: The Sealed Space — The Crucible of Ascension — Third Trial — The Pillar Chamber — The Altar
The glow intensified.
Not gradually—instantly. The pale gold and deep crimson light that had been radiating from the figure on the altar surged outward, flooding the chamber with a warmth that was almost unbearable. The air around it grew thick, heavy, pressed down by the weight of something that had just been unleashed.
The frequency of Mars.
Not the planet as it appeared in the night sky—the essence of it. The chaotic energy of storms and thunder, the red dust of a world that had been dead for millennia, the pulse of a god that had been sleeping and had just woken up.
Through his perception, Elijah saw it.
Not the light—the source. The rays of a distant planet, reaching across the void of space, turning into streams of pale gold and deep crimson. They flowed into the figure's body, into its Tenryu, into the core of its being.
Hundreds of units, he thought.
Hundreds of units of conflux.
And it's not even trying.
It's just... receiving.
Just—
---
The figure moved.
Not fast. Not slow. Just there.
Its fist connected with Naji's face.
The impact sent a shockwave through the chamber, the stone beneath them cracking, splintering, sending shards of rock flying in all directions. Naji's head snapped back, his body following, his feet sliding across the floor.
Another blow.
Another.
Another.
"What's wrong, god?"
Naji's voice was ragged, broken, his face already swelling with bruises. His eyes were wide, his mouth open, his teeth stained with blood.
"Did I hit the mark?"
He laughed.
The sound was wet, hollow, desperate.
"Ha. Ha. Ha."
Another blow.
His body crumpled.
---
Naji lay on the stone.
His face was a ruin—broken nose, swelling eyes, split lips. His body was a mess of bruises and cuts, his clothes torn, his skin raw. Blood pooled beneath him, dark and thick, spreading across the stone like a stain.
The figure stood over him.
"Your kind," it said.
Its voice was quiet, almost thoughtful.
"Your kind was never supposed to exist."
Naji's eyes widened.
"What?"
"If it weren't for Him—"
The figure paused.
"—you wouldn't be here."
"What are you talking about?"
"No matter the cycle."
The figure's voice was cold.
"There would always be someone there to stop you."
Naji's expression shifted.
Rage. Denial. Something that looked almost like fear.
"You mean that brat?"
His voice rose.
"You think he can stop us?"
He laughed.
"No one can stop us. You—the Mighty—couldn't. Your previous Mandate wielder couldn't. Gilgamesh couldn't. Even that conquering barbarian couldn't."
"What makes this boy different?"
---
The figure didn't answer.
Its hands moved—not fast, not slow, just there.
They found Naji's skin. They tore.
Blood sprayed.
Not a fountain—a mist. Fine particles of red that hung in the air like fog, catching the pale gold and deep crimson light that still pulsed from the figure's body.
Naji screamed.
His voice was raw, broken, the sound of something that had never been hurt before and didn't know how to handle it.
"You—"
"You—"
"You—"
He couldn't finish the sentence.
---
Elijah watched from the chip world.
His voice was quiet, almost a whisper.
"This is—"
"This is—"
"This is insane."
"This is—"
"This is—"
The figure's head turned.
Not toward Naji—toward him. Toward the place where his consciousness was hiding.
"Kid," it said.
Its voice was calm.
"I sense that you have the Asha scent in you."
"That's probably why you got the Astraseal itself."
Elijah's breath caught.
"What?"
"I can't tell you much right now. You're weak. Too weak."
"But—"
"Find the rest of the Node Satellites."
"The what?"
"The Node Satellites. The grounds where the planetary energy is stored. You need to find them quickly—before it's too late."
"Too late for what?"
"My intervention—"
The figure paused.
"—though I can't locate where I descended, they will still trace it back to you."
"Don't waste the Astraseal on humanly affairs. Time isn't on your side."
"A greater storm will brew one day. And perhaps—if you want to survive it—you'll need strength."
The figure's voice dropped.
"And that other fellow—the one you're currently in relationship with—"
"Be weary of him. He isn't good. Apply if you ask."
Elijah's internal thoughts churned.
Does he mean Azaqor?
Is he talking about Azaqor?
Or—
Or someone else?
---
The figure turned back to Naji.
Its hand shot out—not fast, not slow, just there. It closed around his throat, lifted him from the ground, and threw him.
Naji's body flew through the air, trailing blood, trailing screams. It struck the altar, the impact sending shockwaves through the stone, through the chamber, through the very fabric of the sealed space.
The figure raised its hand.
The pale gold and deep crimson light surged.
It flowed into Naji's aethernova suit—not gently, violently. The suit's surface began to crack, to split, to implode.
"No—"
Naji's voice was raw.
"No, no, no—"
"I hope—"
"I hope your true body is finally destroyed—"
"Curse you—"
"Curse you—"
The suit screamed.
Not a sound—a frequency. A vibration that tore through the chamber, through the stone, through the bodies of everyone who heard it.
---
The figure moved.
Not fast. Not slow. Just there.
It was already behind a pillar, already out of the blast radius, already watching as the implosion began.
---
Darius woke.
His eyes opened. His vision swam. His body ached.
The smell hit him first.
Blood.
Copper and iron and something else—something that made his stomach churn.
He covered his mouth.
"What—"
"What—"
"What—"
He couldn't finish the sentence.
--
Elijah's consciousness was ejected.
Not gently—violently. He was thrown back into his body, his senses returning in a rush of sound and light and pain.
Wonko stood beside him.
His legs were shaking. His voice was a whisper.
"Whoever—"
"Whoever was in control of your body—"
"—is not someone we should mess with."
Elijah's voice was quiet.
"Yeah."
"I know."
"The fellow is literally the creator of the Severance technique."
"And probably on the same scale level as Azaqor."
"So yeah."
"I can't mess with him."
"I can't—"
He couldn't finish the sentence.
---
Darius opened his eyes.
The center of the altar was gone.
In its place, a humangous implosion of light and sound and hunger. It expanded outward, swallowing everything in its path—stone, pillars, murals, bodies.
"Screw this," he whispered.
"Screw this shitty madness."
"And curse Leo the most for this."
"Curse him —"
The implosion swallowed him.
---