Zero’s feet traced along the carpet carefully— figure skating across the ground as his toes griped onto the ground. His pathway ended as in front of him was enormous double doors.

  Beautiful.

  Both sides had a unique design on them, mosaic tiles as they pattered against the panels— on the face, the middle split in between both openings was a skull. A human skull that was encased in a monolatrous flame, bellowing out loud. Zero placed his claws at the door, gently but slowly— harmonising as he let his souls peek.

  The tenacity zapped his palm away, even the Savior is no match for a God; the Devil grinned clearly, his face covered by his back— unable to be seen by the ones he was leading here. He sighed, the exhale created a dent in the air— the pressure was immense.

  When Zero pushed open the doors, a violent gust of wind blasted through— Saraline was dropped the ground, clutching onto her sword in order to maintain her position near the Throne Room, a cut emerged on her cheek— the air was a weapon.

  Psylaiso meanwhile manifested both of her arms into long javelins, stabbing it into the carpet as her left leg was lifted in the air; encompassing Dara who was squelching above.

  She braced, closing her eyes as Psylaiso began to whimper, her left javelin began to glow as a pattern of the insignia flowed throughout, attempting to float onto the carpet before instantly being dissipated.

  Zero stood still, his position the same as: his right arm was over his chest, palm extended as it was placed on his chest— his fingers curved therefore allowing his claws to protrude outwards. But his expression, the cuts flung across his body— instantly healed afterwards as his expression was stone; he didn’t flinch nor budge unlike when he placed his hand on the door.

  It was a typical greeting from Medea after all.

  After a strenuous moment, the air pressure dwindled, the others stood back up— fighting the fatigue to fall over in an instant, as Psylaiso shapeshifted her back into a holdable trolley, in order contain Dara who was about to collapse from above.

  “Come on in.” A voice roared; the tone was slick and boisterous— a divine contrast from the immense pressure felt.

  Zero walked in, his feet graced floated against the royal carpet as the others followed slowly.

  Psylaiso’s eyes darted across the room as she entered, it was vast but empty as if Thidos’ however it was quite big; an assortment of medals and trophies enclosed the room, a zoo of accomplishments— the carpet faded and dissipated into a glass— looking.

  The floor was glass, eggshells— Saraline’s eyes wandered down and saw a reflection of blood, corpses— Nil’s carcass crying red. But not just Nil, an array of people she has killed in the past: the guilt, the bodies, the dead.

  Did she truly not care for them?

  She must’ve due to the fact as soon as she saw the tens of hundreds of thousands, she lifted her head up instantly— she could hear Nil’s voice though.

  “When you ask how many I’ve killed—I say many. Those people ruined others, haunted them, poisoned their skies. I kill because their night deserves to be beautiful again.”

  The corpses all spoke that sentence, an ensemble of ghosts taunted Saraline as sweat dripped from her temple— she closed her eyes, looking ahead to see a massive throne.

  Massive was an understatement as the throne was as high as the ceiling— well it continued to grow in height.

  A throne made of spectres, ghosts— inhuman celestials which all piled together— a sound of crunching was heard as their cries were loud and irritating.

  Irritating to who? How is the screams of innocent ghosts irritating?

  Dara’s reflection was simply Rallio— but Rallio wasn’t dead. The kaiju was alarmed, their eyes quivering as it darted side to side. Rallio wasn’t even in the centre, instead an exhibition of darkness contained him in a ring.

  Ring of what?

  Dara’s eyes fluttered, “Rallio? But… are you that alone?”

  Psylaiso didn’t bother to look down, as her eyes accidentally pierced the floor— what was reflected in glass was nothing.

  Because she is nothing— no matter how hard she tries, there’s nothing to save her.

  “What is that voice!” Saraline yelled, she stared above at the boundless throne— shaking her fist as her body trembled, “You weren’t this evil before, why are you tormenting us!”

  Zero stood unphased, his stance in format as he glanced at Saraline who walked beside him, Psylaiso and Dara were still near the exit.

  Well, there wasn’t one as the doors to leave vanished— a black mist encircled where the exits as a quiet titter flowed into the room.

  “Tehehehehehehe.”

  That sickening voice struck into everyone’s ears— painfully, it was on loop— an encore that could never finish as it resumed and paused, resumed and paused all over and over.

  “You aren’t Adolla.” The God’s tremors pulsated through the room, forcing all to bend and kneel— not Zero however, he stood still: same position.

  “Imp, why do you not follow suit with the others.” Medea’s tongue rolled from above, the slippery saliva dripped as it hovered mere inches from the ground— but mere centimetres from Zero’s face.

  “Adolla? Adolla’s dead— he’s been dead for a while, after he left Thidos.” Zero’s tone…. his voice calm but void of emotion.

  “Zero of Invalia— I’ve seen the actions you have taken recently— regarding reality of course, it makes me so upset. You believe that conquering your phantoms makes you a hero, I’ll reveal your truth. You act less like the Savior you claim yourself as.

  AND MORE LIKE ELIZA.”

  Zero’s eyes buldged, veins? Veins sprouted on his forehead as his eyes glowed.

  Their eyes glowed.

  “WHAT?” A harmonisation of multiple voices sprouted from Zero’s vocal chords— anger, confusion, relief, happiness, pain, sorrow, disgust, fear, temptation, wrath, rage, pride, envy, lust, sloth, greed, gluttony, temperance, charity, patience, diligence, humility, chastity, kindness. The mixture of souls he’s killed, souls he has absorbed from killing them in such brutal ways enveloped into one word.

  What?

  “You act as if you are a real Savior, what good have you done— all you’ve done is rewrite parts of reality you don’t like with some power I don’t even understand how you got. It’s disgusting how you truly think you are meaningful. You are just some depressed schizophrenic serial killer who got mad their world got destroyed and decided to make it everyone’s problem— now you are making it really everyone’s problem, you haven’t seen how much damage you’ve done but you’ve done a lot. You now act as an uncaring mediator, uncaring— emotionless. Like Eliza.” Medea’s tongue spat every syllable out with a smile.

  Did you know this text is from a different site? Read the official version to support the creator.

  A God’s smile.

  “I bet you were coming in here to act as if you really were some cool individual— killing a defenceless old man? Was that your big debut— you think I wouldn’t notice some reality bending in my world? Hell the only reason you aren’t dead right now is because I chose you during the Reprisal— if not, Thidos would’ve sent a beam of concussed energy straight into your stupid stupid stupid head.

  That fangirl Nil was right on one part.

  You’ll never be the Savior of Invalia.”

  Saraline looked at Zero, he was trembling— his stance destroyed, no longer hand over chest as he clutched onto his heart.

  Dropping to the ground— arms clutching his head as he began to scream.

  “AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAARAAGGHHHHHHHHHHHH!”

  A piercing scream— piercing sounds, piercing visuals.

  Everything in this world is fake or a piercing catastrophe.

  Psylaiso’s eyes widened, “Thidos, he wouldn’t…. he wouldn’t act like this.”

  They truly have seen a God of a distant world, not one that is combatting their own self humanity— no, a fully realised deity.

  Who has complete control over everything.

  Medea’s tongue lifted over Zero, faking a saliva drip before shooting upwards— fading into the eternal darkness.

  The God’s view no longer sat on the defeated Imp but instead darted to Saraline, Psylaiso and Dara.

  “What makes you people arrive in Ostra? Threaten my own personal historian, Gilgamesh. Oh, you don’t know who it is due to that bastard rewriting history— but in the original timeline, you did heinous acts to my old world historian. You come here to seek resources, help from Ostra. My world, however throughout your journey here you treat my world as if it was hell.

  You look with disgust at my castle, a castle I made on a whim— but still, a God’s castle. You look at my world with disgust, the people you either ignore— remove from a scene due to believing their ‘illusions’ or whatever else you pieces of repulsive garbage do.

  Now kneel until your knees burst.”

  A thundering snap was echoing across the ground, as Saraline fell onto the ground once more; her body beginning to sink into the glass like quicksand as the others followed.

  “LORD!” She screeched, “WE NEED HELP!”

  “Is that the first time you addressed me as Lord, you prefer to be a rebel right? A true rebel wouldn’t quake in fear like that.”

  “A Slavi? Medea only started those after the Saints. And his whole schtick is demonic.”

  A voice from the past echoed throughout Saraline’s ear— it was her voice.

  Her eyes broaded, emeralds cracked.

  “And when I do move? Not to stop the madness, but to indulge in it. I punched the Imp—the Imp who was trying to stop the madness! I blamed him because I was angry. I thought I was hated for not killing him. No… They hate Saraline Grover because she’s a selfish loser who can’t save a life.”

  “At least you are self aware of how shit you are— Failure. Did you seriously attempt to reclaim that name and try repurpose it? How much of a failure are you. You say that you don’t want to indulge in the madness, but a timeline ago— you were doing exactly that. Or was this even a past reality?”

  Another snap was heard as a vision from the first reality replayed.

  “NONONONONO!” Zero yelped.

  “Shut up! I’m done with you!” Medea’s voice rang out as Zero was sent flying through the mist, disappearing and sent back to his cage.

  Like a dog, not a Hero.

  Dissipation of Godhood— or attempted, as the release of souls screeched through the room. Gasps, relief— they’ve been reaped and sent to the afterlife; no longer contained by pure evil.

  “I said once I was a mistake. I fell from divinity’s peak and crashed into the dirt like a fallen angel—and that’s truth. But now? I’m going to save the world. Not mankind. Not all mortals deserve saving. When you ask how many I’ve killed—I say many.

  Those people ruined others, haunted them, poisoned their skies. I kill because their night deserves to be beautiful again. I am retribution, not a false idol like the Imps. I am resistance—a true hero.”

  The glass beneath her feet cracked. Tiny bubbles glowed beneath it. She flicked the ground with her thumb; it sang like a bell. Her eyes glistened as she raised her blade to the heavens.

  Light flared—bathing her in white, her smile widening into a spiral. Her emerald pupils spun in manic orbit.

  A true spiral.

  “You say ‘no one deserves saving’—who decides that?” Gilgamesh lifted his head. Saliva dripped from his lips.

  “I do,” she said.

  The smile.

  That smile.

  A true spiral.

  Saraline stopped sinking, she gasped— she turned to the others as they paused sinking aswell. The floor consuming her was wet, her torso was almost completely vacuumed as she began to cry.

  Psylaiso was about speak however—

  “See how you are— you are a complete failure, you forgot your promise to be a true hero to Dara, people who admired you— for your position, which you lost, due to your failures. Speaking of you Dara.

  How’s that dream going?” Medea taunted.

  Dara stared above, flinching; “What do you mean?”

  “I wanted to become a Saint!”

  Her eyes dilated, fidgeted and floated side to side. Her body although consumed— she attempted to break out. Wincing, crying. She shook her head as she heard the first sentence end.

  “Yeah! Helping others is great.”

  “I know that being a transforming monster can be scary but– Merlin is a scary werewolf and he’s an amazing hero! I want to be a hero just like all the Saints! Just like you Saraline and Gabriel too!”

  “STOPP!” She cried, saliva dispersing across the ground as Medea’s laughed played in the background.

  “You haven’t tamed that beast inside of you, nor have you came to peace with it fully— you saw it being consumed and did you do anything? But speaking of you personally, have you done anything to call yourself a hero? A transforming hero? How’s that goal of being a Saint— even if you did the Reprisal right now, again, repeated. You wouldn’t be picked, Thidos was right— you are unstable, you are a freakshow, and you deserve to DIE!”

  Dara screamed.

  “What’s wrong with you? Do you get off to this?” Psylaiso liquidated herself in order to escape the grasp of the ground which caved in, she reformed herself as her eyebrows burrowed, “I don’t care if you don’t like us, if you didn’t want to help— just say so!”

  “What even are you? Aren’t you just a monster Thidos created— do you even deserve respect, I don’t even think I know your name. I know about your obsessive love for Saraline, after you fought her and then she actually you know cared for you but that’s all. You have nothing, you are useless— if you were swapped out for any other person, anyone, ever. There’d be no difference, your powers are terrible, your design— I can’t even remember what you are. Are you a slime? Are you a crystal girl? Are you a shapeshifter? You have no identity other than being Saraline’s lackey who fell in love— I wouldn’t even want you to die, it’d be no different than living for you.”

  Medea’s voice, uncaring— it lacked the emotion that was had for the others, the rage at Dara and the disappointment for Saraline.

  He felt nothing to Psylaiso.

  Because she was truly nothing.

  Psylaiso stared above, her eyes twitching as she lifted her right hand, walking forward. “You think I care? You were a nobody until someone decided to give you power— now you go on a power trip because of it. You think I have no identity? You said all that thinking I didn’t know it already? I married Saraline within those five years and nobody knew— other than us three. So yeah, I am her lackey. I am her strength, her soul, her love. Dara. She’s like my sister— you are fucking with the wrong people. I don’t care if you are a God, I’ll see if you still bleed like the rest of us!”

  A middle finger released from her right arm, as she splashed her left arm back to behind her— hitting both Dara and Saraline, lifting them out of their encasement.

  “You think I care? We care? We deny our past if it no longer suits us— as for Zero, who cares what that devil thinks, let him live in his delusions. He isn’t original any more, a knock off— a knock off. Yes, why would we care about what any of you guys say. I don’t know where I came from legitimately, I don’t care. I don’t need a pre-established family to support myself, I have these people. Now when the Cassettes replay time, we’ll replay your defeat over and over again.

  You fake God.” Psylaiso stomped her feet into the ground, crater— as she stared above.

  Saraline’s eyes twinkled, mouth agape as it formed into a smile.

  “I love you.”

  The night sky encompassed the three as they stood outside the castle.

  Smoking a cigarette each.

  The air smelled of burnt glass— not the cigarettes, the bums lit up like candles; illuminating their destinies to rebel. To rebel. To rebel.

  Dara sat on the ground, puffing— puffing— puffing.

  Saraline stood beside Psylaiso, resting her head on the Slime’s shoulders, her eyes drooping but they peaked as soon as they heard.

  “I love you too.” Psylaiso turned to Saraline, smiling.

  The night was beautiful, pure darkness— it was the only darkness that humans don’t fear.

  It reminds us of home.

  Thank you for reaching the end of this chapter!

  A lot went down, and from here the story begins to accelerate even faster. Every character is being tested, and every decision is reshaping the world around them.

  If you have thoughts, theories, or reactions, I’d love to hear them, comments genuinely help the story grow. If you’re enjoying things, don’t forget to follow the series so you don’t miss upcoming updates.

  More chaos awaits next chapter.

  See you then!