ARC II — "THE FALL OF THE FALSE GODS"
The ground was already trembling before the ships touched down.
From the dark sky, red light carved through the clouds—hundreds of alien carriers descending like bleeding stars.
Kurotsume stood in the center of the ruined valley, cloak torn, his aura faintly glowing beneath the smoke. He didn't move. He just watched.
"They're early," the demon murmured inside his mind. "Vorak must be impatient."
Kurotsume's lips twitched faintly. "Good. Saves me the trouble of finding him."
A voice crackled through the air, sharp and metallic.
"Rebel confirmed. Engage with maximum force. No survivors."*
The ground split as alien troops materialized—tall, armored figures, their armor glimmering with crimson veins of light. Their movements were mechanical, in perfect rhythm, as if sharing one mind.
Kurotsume flexed his fingers once. "Let's get this over with."
The first wave charged. Plasma blades ignited, humming through the smoke.
Kurotsume didn't even draw a weapon—he raised one hand, aura condensing like liquid flame around his palm.
In a flash, the front line vanished.
Not cut. Not burned. Erased.
The remaining soldiers halted instantly. The air hissed, where they once stood—a perfect void carved into the battlefield.
Siel watched from behind the rocks, clutching her weapon tight, her eyes wide. She had disobeyed him, refusing to flee.
Kurotsume lowered his hand slightly, voice steady. "You really thought I was going to run?"
The demon's chuckle rippled through his mind. "Still pretending you're bored, even now."
Kurotsume's smirk deepened. "Not pretending."
From the lead carrier, a taller figure stepped forward—armor black as obsidian, marked with the insignia of the royal legions. His presence alone made the soldiers part.
"Identify yourself,"* Kurotsume called out, voice calm.
The alien commander's voice came through a mechanical tone, low and precise.
"I am Zyren, first blade of Vorak. You are the human anomaly. The one who merged with the forbidden entity."*
"Nice title," Kurotsume said flatly. "Means nothing to me."
Zyren tilted his head slightly. "You mock what you don't understand."
"Maybe," Kurotsume said. "But I understand this."
He disappeared.
Zyren didn't even see him move—one instant Kurotsume was standing still, the next his hand was around Zyren's throat.
The commander's armor cracked under the pressure.
"Tell Vorak,"* Kurotsume said quietly, "I'm coming for his throne."
With one effortless motion, he slammed Zyren into the ground. The earth exploded—craters tearing through the valley floor.
Alien soldiers rushed forward, screaming orders, opening fire. Energy beams sliced through the air.
Kurotsume moved like water, weaving between the blasts—his aura bending light itself, distorting the space around him. He moved through the army like a ghost, like death itself.
Siel could only watch as alien after alien fell in silence. There was no rage, no thrill in his movements—just cold precision.
"He's not fighting,"* she whispered, trembling. "He's erasing."
The demon laughed deep in his chest. "He's evolving."
One of the fallen aliens dragged itself forward, voice breaking through static. "Wh-what are you?"
Kurotsume looked down, eyes glowing faintly.
"Correction."*
The alien's head fell.
From above, a deep mechanical roar shook the sky. The largest carrier descended, its engines melting the treetops.
Kurotsume looked up, smirk tugging at his lips. "Finally."
Siel shouted, "Kurotsume! That's—!"
"Vorak," he finished for her.
The carrier doors began to open. A tall figure stepped out, wrapped in black energy. Even from this distance, his presence was suffocating.
Vorak's voice echoed across the battlefield, amplified through every ship, every drone.
"Human. I've been watching you."*
Kurotsume tilted his head slightly. "You must be bored then."
"You've killed thousands of my kind,"* Vorak said coldly. "For what? Revenge? Or delusion?"
"Balance," Kurotsume said simply.
Vorak's aura flared, shaking the sky. "You think you can destroy gods?"
Kurotsume looked up, eyes burning like a dying star.
"I already did."*
The storm broke. Lightning rained, explosions ripped through the air. Vorak's army surged forward once more—tens of thousands strong.
Siel shouted over the noise, "We can't win this!"
Kurotsume's voice remained steady, quiet. "You still don't get it, do you?"
He glanced at her, aura glowing brighter. "This isn't about winning."
Siel's eyes widened. "Then what—?"
He smiled faintly.
"It's about ending."*
The last thing she saw before the battlefield vanished into smoke was Kurotsume's silhouette walking toward the army alone, cloak burning, aura tearing the world apart.