Shadow of the Abyss

The Bolt shattered three of the four barriers, breaking into flecks of light beneath the scarlet dome surrounding Altair and his Forsaken. The seven runes burned like fire, rejecting the destruction that came from the skies.

Suddenly, the air turned dry and acrid, devoid of Mana, that did not dwindle as if to be used but vanished all at once.

The faces of Transcendent men drained of color. The Barriers that were beginning to coalesce from where they had been broken began to dissolve like puddles of acid on the skin. The Mana Core that had been used to activate the Barriers shattered as the energy used was all eaten.

The Heavens trembled and snarled. The winds snapped like caged beasts across the denizens of Inka.

Death. Death was all anyone could think about of those daring to gaze at the annihilation above. Those who could see through the black could vaguely see something or somewhat, or perhaps nothing, looking back at them. There was evil in those eyes, or lack thereof.

Enjoy new adventures from empire

They could all feel it, yet Altair felt it best. The gaze was focused on him, sealing the spatial domain around him. A meter around him, he could not move. Yet it was enough for him.

Empty-handed, he lifted a palm as Gram materialized in it. He couldn't remember the last time he wielded the sword since he bound a soul to it. The blade felt right in his hand, its power merging into his own to breathe forth chaos. The infernal runes across the blade's spine glowed like fire.

As the second bolt tore from the heavens to illuminate the skies, tearing through space and time, it cracked over the barrier Tasha erected and once again shattered into shards to disburse into light. Of the seven runes placed around him, one vanished. Then more, one by one, as lightning came in quick succession, tearing the skies asunder to distort the light.

Seven strikes lashed at the barrier as Gods, Demigods, and Mortals watched it tear open in disbelief. It was inconceivable for the heavens to strike seven times in a row at someone stepping into the Fifth Circle. It had been seen before either in Babels Tower or out of it.

The Heavens, the Gods were furious.

"Protect the People!" Shouted the Castillan from on high. Echoed by others the best they can. And yet it all seemed for not.

"Your Grace,' his Forsaken called, but Altair waved them to retreat, a savage smile brandishing his lips.

Cruel elation flashed across the blacks of his eyes, swallowing the red. The Vale hummed into creation like a faded shadow from behind him, expanding out like a pool of liquid abyss. Rising like water droplets, it gathered beneath the King's will, assimilating with Gram to form a blade blacker than the deepest night, deeper than the deepest trenches of the Hells.

Altair lifted his Vale Sword, Omniscience writhing across his pupils like the thrumb of a cord. It struck against the lightning before it arrived, brandishing the Aspect of Rule. The bolt condensed into a ball beneath his will, lancing towards the skies like a spear to tear it asunder.

"I am Eternal…" The Vale King's voice boomed. Maddening Crazed and Palantine all condensed into a single voice. It honored the land, bending mortals' hearts and minds alike.

From afar, outside the mighty walls of Inka, now a crumpled ruin of its former glory, a dragon roared, bellowing its defiance towards the Heavens and Shadow. It shrieked by past the wall, shrouding the denizens beneath its dragon might. They saw only the shadow of the creature, and yet even it felt small before that laughter.

Altair and the Vale King were laughing, the madness as blind as light even as his skin pealed beneath the sheer radiance of the tribulation electrifying the air, turning his skin to char. He burned as though the heavens were a sun, and he an egg.

The pain. The heat. The madness. It all came in droves, and yet he held, his laughter booming. His madness flaring.

"BURN ME!" He commanded, sensing the refinement of the Heavens.

The ninth bolt from the Heaven's Annihilation fell much like a droplet, devouring sound, light, and color. It ate fear to give birth to something else, something primal.

The land of Inka rippled like a droplet of water across a smooth lake. The earth fountained to the skies, spewing hundreds of meters into the clouds, as calamity pillared the heavens in a force that could be seen hundreds of thousands of miles away.

And yet, the sword arc that left Gram was as deep as the night, yet as profane as the nobles of Hell, split the heaven asunder, tearing through the black to reveal the sunlight peering through.

Altair stood there, barely a skeleton, barely even alive, if such a thing could be considered alive. The Vale Stars connected by a string of Vale Qi. Slowly, his bones dwindle to dust, leaving Gram to fall where it may.

'Dead' was all any of the Forsaken could believe before the ashes of their Masters began to dance through the breeze.

Just then, Tasha's eyes snapped open, her naked body sprawled beneath debris. She rose, but Medusa's palm held her still. Her voice was no longer the usual calm but a faint quiver. "Don't…"

The Dragon that had arrived stared at the dust that had become Altair, then the Heavens in recovery, back to Altair.

He could still hear it, that profane laughter that could haunt even the dreams of Gods. From the emptiness of the void, something quivered to give form.

Thunder grumbled and quiver of something old and ancient and feral. And yet to the Dragon, Shi'ran it, felt scared.

"The Soul…" Shi'ran said, realizing. "Where is the boy's soul?"

"Easy… my friend." another voice said from on top of the dragon's back. It was a hard voice, commanding, and yet… in this moment, it felt feeble.

It was all wrong. None of this made any sense, at least none that he could comprehend. Despite the Nine Heavenly Tribulation striking nine times, the tribulation had not faded. In fact, it was gaining power and stepping beyond the bounds if it hadn't already.

"Nox… What in the world have you done?" The stranger asked partly to himself, the other towards the Young Lord.

Just then, the cry of a crow resounded through the night as a shadow-like raven appeared, taking the form of a woman gripping a spear. Her eyes were hollow, yet they commanded an authority that threatened the nature of the Three Godrealms.

***

[Rebirth]

In large, emboldened letters, red as blood, Altair Soul Flame saw the system message followed by several others.

[Curse of the Nephilim (S+) has enriched the Heavenly Tribulation]

[Curse of the Nephilim (S+) has Augmented the Heavenly Tribulation with the Blood of The Old Gods]

[Rebirth has granted Forsaken Lineage]

[The Outergods have taken notice of the Vale King's presence.]

[Synergy found between Forsaken Lineage and Nephilim Blood]n/o/vel/b//in dot c//om

[Connection to Seraphine has been severed]

[Vale Stars Has Granted Temporary Access to Four of the Thirteen Godhands]

It had all happened in a single breath, but before Altair could grasp his return, he was once more before the furious Heavens, space rippling around him.

Lightning split skies overhead, bellowing a furious cry that seemed to turn the world to flames of multicolored light.

A single tear, black as night, ran from Altair's iris, creating a path down his cheek, melting flesh like acid, vanishing halfway into the void before it hit the earth.

The Vale King gave a maniacal laugh, opening his palm foolishly and grabbing hold of power that he did not understand. Yet by the reins, he held it, dominating it as everything for over a hundred miles turned to an endless void faster than they could grasp.

"No…No… No…" A snarky voice echoed, more annoyed than what most could believe.

The Vale King tilted his head, not understanding what just happened.

"Altair Blackwood… Nice to meet you. My name is Mephistopheles, one of the Rulers of this Tower."

The vale king searched but could not put a face to the voice. No matter how much he looked or opened himself to his Omniscience. The speaker appeared beyond it.

"Though I suppose you can call me Mephisto. I've called you here to decree that you are forbidden from using that power more than once per hundred years within Babels Tower. Use of that… Ability will result in your deletion if used within the time frame."

From the Vale King to Altair, an expression of perplexion tarnished his face.

"That's not fair! You gave me—"

"Let me continue," Mephisto's tone made him eat his words. "In return. You will no longer face Tribulation. The Council of Omnis has decreed it. So, is there punishment for manipulating the Curse of the Nephilim? Do you accept?"

'What happens if I don't?" Altair asked.

"I kill you." The words were empty, much as if they didn't matter, and yet…

"Why give me this chance? Why not kill me?"

"Ask, Zero. Goodbye, Master of the Vale."