The scene opens with the familiar vision of a past untouched by the darker shades of life. A young boy, an unmistakable echo of Shinryu's earliest innocence, darts through the village, his small body brimming with youthful zeal. This village, a place suspended above the clouds as if it were a dream nestled within the heavens, radiates with the vibrancy of a world untouched by the woes of conflict. Every building, every alleyway, is adorned with the artistry of life—a rich harmony of laughter, song, and the hum of magic that cradles the village in serenity. The people move through this sky-cradled sanctuary, their steps light as air itself, for this village floats not just amidst the clouds, but in the boundless freedom of an aerial paradise.
Shinryu, a mere boy in this snapshot of time, embodies the essence of this village. His eyes, wide with wonder, reflect the skies above as he bounds through the streets, his path illuminated by the very essence of hope. The shops hum with life, their stalls displaying everything from the finest fabrics woven with celestial threads to exotic foods, their aromas mixing in the air like a symphony. Even the gadgets sold seem to have a magical glint to them, as if each object possesses a soul of its own.
Amidst this scene of peace, Luna stands—a figure of grace and strength, her presence radiating both authority and warmth. Her long hair flows in the wind, a cascade of silver strands that seem to shimmer in the sunlight. She is both mother and queen, her wisdom stretching far beyond the realm of this village.
Luna: Shinryu, take this money and bring us some food.
Her voice is gentle, yet carries the weight of command, trusting her young son with a task far more important than it seems. She is not merely asking him to run an errand; she is preparing him for the future.
With an innocent yet determined "Okay, mom," Shinryu accepts the coins, his small hands clutching the future that his mother unknowingly places in them. As he skips away, Luna's gaze lingers on him, her heart swelling with pride and a silent prophecy whispered in her thoughts.
Luna: My son will grow... and become the strongest man our race has ever seen.
The tenderness of the moment, however, shatters like fragile glass. From the periphery, a brutish figure steps forward, his sneer a weapon aimed directly at Luna's hope. His presence casts a long shadow over her, and with the cruel edge of mockery, he strikes without warning.
"Your son? Becoming the strongest human?" His laughter is a jagged scar across the peaceful scene. "Hahaha, what a bitch."
The insult, sharp and unforgiving, cuts deeper than any blade could. It is not just a taunt; it is an assault on Luna's very soul. But as the dust of disdain settles, it ignites something within Shinryu—a spark that would one day become a firestorm. His small feet halt mid-step, his head turning slowly as his young face hardens. The raw power of his mother's love fuels his resolve, and though still a boy, he turns to confront the source of his mother's disgrace.
The moment is surreal. Luna's voice, tinged with terror, echoes through the air, "SHINRYU NOOO!" But her words are swallowed by the sky as Shinryu leaps, defying both gravity and destiny. His body, propelled by something far greater than rage, soars into the heavens. In his small hands, a universe swirls—a mere fragment of his untapped power.
He descends like a star crashing to earth, his power focused on one singular point. The mocker, barely able to react, is engulfed in the catastrophic energy unleashed by a child whose strength knows no bounds. The explosion is not just physical—it is cosmic. The village, once a floating paradise, is obliterated in an instant. Ashes rain from the sky where once there had been life and laughter.
Years pass in a whirlwind of sorrow and solitude. Shinryu, now standing at the precipice of manhood, finds himself in a graveyard, a silent monument to the past he could not save. In his hands, flowers—fragile tokens of his remorse—lie before the gravestone of his mother.
Kneeling in front of her grave, he utters a single word that carries the weight of years, of choices made in moments of unchecked power.
Shinryu: Mother...
His voice is a whisper, but it echoes through the stillness, carried on the wind. His eyes, once bright and filled with hope, are now shadowed by guilt.
Shinryu: I am... sorry...
His words falter, the silence between each phrase filled with the weight of memories too painful to revisit. He bows his head, tears falling silently onto the earth that cradles the remains of his mother.
The solemnity of the moment is broken by the sound of footsteps approaching, soft but deliberate. Shinryu turns, and the camera follows, revealing a figure bathed in light. His cowboy hat tilts forward, casting a shadow over eyes that gleam with a dangerous mix of familiarity and menace. A long, shredded cape billows behind him, its white fabric marred by time and battle. The cigar between his lips smolders as he speaks, his voice deep, resonant with an authority that cannot be ignored.
Eon: Shinryu, my son...
Shinryu's breath catches in his throat as he stares at the man before him, a mixture of disbelief and recognition in his eyes.
Shinryu: Father?
The moment stretches, fraught with tension, as if the very air between them is crackling with the weight of unspoken truths. Eon takes a step forward, his eyes never leaving his son's face.
Eon: It's good to see you, my son...
But before the sentiment can take root, before the reunion can solidify, the moment is shattered. Without warning, Eon delivers a brutal kick to Shinryu's chest, sending him crashing back with bone-crushing force. The ground beneath Shinryu's feet gives way as he is thrown into his mother's grave, the stones breaking beneath the impact.
Shinryu's eyes widen in shock and pain as blood pours from his mouth. He struggles to comprehend what just happened.
Shinryu: The hell... Father?
The man who once stood as Shinryu's father begins to transform. His features, once human, twist into something monstrous. His body, now glowing with an otherworldly white light, takes on a more sinister form. His eyes and mouth become voids of absolute blackness, devouring the light around them. His cape lengthens, snaking across the ground like tendrils of a malevolent force. The cigar drops from his mouth, split in two as the illusion of Eon dissolves into something far darker.
Eon: Your father is dead. His soul... consumed. His body... mine.
His voice has changed, now deeper, more resonant with the power of a being that transcends mortality. And before Shinryu can even react, Eon charges with impossible speed. Shinryu, desperate and filled with a fury that burns hotter than the sun, summons his power. A universe spins in his palm, crackling with the energy of a thousand stars. He hurls it at Eon with all his might.
But it's not enough.
Time slows as Eon sidesteps the attack, his laughter echoing through the air like a death knell. He reappears behind Shinryu in a blink, delivering a swift neck chop that sends him crashing to the ground, the force of the blow leaving a crater in the earth.
Eon's voice drips with mockery as he stands over Shinryu, the shadows of his form darkening the world around him.
Eon: Weeeaaaak.
His words are laced with contempt, taunting Shinryu's very existence.
Eon: You're supposed to be the One That Goes Beyond A Cosmic God, aren't you?
Shinryu lies at his feet, his strength drained, his mind reeling from the blow. The world around him seems to warp, bending under the weight of his despair.
Eon: Show me that power! Show me the strength of the one who destroyed his own home with just a single strike!
Eon's laughter grows more unhinged, a cacophony of madness that grates against the very fabric of reality.
Eon: HAHAHAHAHAHA! SHOW ME THE MONSTER THAT YOU REALLY ARE!
The words echo in Shinryu's mind like a poison, twisting his thoughts, urging him to rise. His body trembles as he pushes himself up from the ground, blood dripping from his lips. Slowly, but surely, his aura begins to change. The power of a Cosmic God returns to him, his eyes burning with a deep, ancient fire.
Shinryu: You... shall...
His voice rumbles through the air like a coming storm.
Shinryu: Fall.
As the word leaves his lips, an invisible force strikes Eon, driving him to his knees. Eon's mocking grin falters, confusion flashing in his blackened eyes.
Shinryu: Break.
Another word, another wave of cosmic force. Eon's body begins to crack, his bones shattering beneath the weight of Shinryu's command. Eon's face twists in pain as the invisible force compresses his form, the sound of cracking bones echoing like the distant rumble of thunder.
Shinryu: And finally... you shall...
With his last word, the air grows thick, heavy with the inevitability of what's to come. Shinryu's voice, now a force unto itself, resonates through the very fabric of existence.
Shinryu: Never... Exist.
As the final decree escapes Shinryu's lips, Eon's form begins to disintegrate. His body, once menacing and seemingly invincible, is reduced to mere particles, each fragment swirling into the void as if the universe itself is reclaiming him. The blackness of his eyes and mouth fades, leaving only empty space where he once stood. His screams, filled with anguish and disbelief, are swallowed by the emptiness, until there is nothing left but silence.
The world around Shinryu begins to steady as the weight of his words takes hold. Eon, once a threat that loomed over his existence, is gone, erased from reality itself by the power that only Shinryu, The One That Goes Beyond A Cosmic God, can wield.
But the victory is not without cost. Shinryu, drained by the immense effort, collapses to his knees. His breathing is ragged, his body trembling from the strain of unleashing such divine power. He clutches the ground, his fingers digging into the soil as he fights to stay conscious. The sky above him, once vibrant and full of light, now seems duller—an indication of the toll his actions have taken on the world itself.
Shinryu: Mother...
He whispers her name, a reminder of why he fights, why he continues to endure the torment of his power. But even now, the burden of his strength weighs heavily upon him. The sword, still humming with divine energy, seems to resonate with his emotions.
Sword: Shinryu, you have done what needed to be done, but your journey is far from over.
The sword's voice is steady, unwavering. It is both a tool and a guide, urging him to continue forward, to embrace his destiny even as it threatens to consume him.
Sword: There are beings far more powerful than you will ever know, and some of them are already on their way.
Shinryu: I... I don't care anymore...
His voice breaks, the weight of his existence too much to bear in this moment. He raises his head toward the sky, his eyes filled with sorrow.
Shinryu: Just... let me rest...
The sword remains silent for a moment, as if contemplating his plea.
Sword: Rest will come in time, Shinryu, but for now, you must prepare. Control your power before it consumes you entirely.
Shinryu's grip on the sword tightens as he listens, his resolve slowly returning. The weight of his responsibility presses down on him like a vice, but he knows he cannot falter. Not now.
Shinryu: Fine... I'll continue...
He slowly rises to his feet, his eyes still fixed on the sword. The bond between them is undeniable, forged in the fires of conflict and tempered by the weight of the cosmos itself.
The scene shifts abruptly, pulling the viewer from the divine confrontation back into a more mundane moment. Dark and Leona sit across from each other in the cozy interior of a moving room, engaged in a simple arm-wrestling match. The stark contrast between Shinryu's epic battle for existence and the lighthearted competition in this room is almost jarring.
Leona, her face flushed with determination, struggles to push Dark's hand down.
Leona: NOOOO! COME ON!!! I CAN WIN AGAINST TITANS, BUT NOT YOU!?!?!?
Her aura flares, the vibrant purple energy surrounding her, but despite her immense power, Dark barely seems to be trying. His expression is one of pure boredom, his half-lidded eyes betraying no effort as he yawns, a "ugh" jealous expression clear on his face.
Dark: Titans aren't that strong, you know.
Leona: Huh...?
Her eyes widen in disbelief, her mouth slightly agape as Dark continues, explaining casually as if the defeat of titans is a minor inconvenience in his life.
Dark: Takes me a little time to deal damage, sure, but if Sukojo were in my place...
He trails off as he releases Leona's hand, barely acknowledging his victory. He rises from his chair, stretching lazily.
Dark: It would take him less than a second to destroy hundreds of titans.
Leona's expression shifts from disbelief to awe as she processes Dark's words. Titans—once considered some of the most powerful beings in the universe—are nothing compared to the true power that resides within Dark, or more accurately, Sukojo.
Leona: You're kidding, right...?
Dark doesn't respond, instead walking toward the sofa and collapsing into it. His nonchalant attitude only deepens the shock on Leona's face as she tries to grasp just how powerful Sukojo truly is.
Inside Dark's mind, Sukojo's voice echoes, amused by the casual mention of his strength.
Sukojo: (thinking) Oi, oi... Thanks for mentioning me.
Dark, barely fazed, responds mentally with a hint of sarcasm.
Dark: (thinking) Yeah, well, you're living inside my body.
The brief exchange highlights the strange relationship between Dark and Sukojo, two souls sharing a single body—one dominant, the other biding his time, waiting for the right moment to take control.
Leona, still reeling from the conversation, moves closer to Dark. She hesitates for a moment before resting her head gently on his chest. It's a rare display of vulnerability, but Dark doesn't push her away.
Leona: Dark...
Her voice is soft, barely above a whisper. Dark opens his eyes slightly, looking down at her.
Dark: Yeah?
Leona's cheeks flush slightly as she struggles to find the right words, her heart pounding in her chest.
Leona: I'm... in love with your strength...
Dark blinks, caught off guard by the sudden confession. He shifts uncomfortably, unsure how to respond.
Dark: Uhh... thanks, I guess?
The moment lingers for a beat, awkward and uncertain, before a sudden shift in tone interrupts the tender atmosphere. The narrator's voice returns, adding a layer of introspection to the scene.
Narrator:
Dark, unaware of the complexities of love, remains oblivious to the deeper emotions stirring within him. For now, his understanding is limited—blushing, awkwardness, and embarrassment are his only responses to matters of the heart. Yet, the journey to full emotional understanding awaits him, a path marked by milestones of awakening and growth.
This contrast with Sukojo is stark. Sukojo, residing within Dark, is a being who has long surpassed such emotional barriers, his Awakened Soul and mastery over emotions far beyond what Dark has yet to grasp. For Sukojo, emotion is not a burden, but a tool, an intrinsic part of his existence, intertwined with power and control. Where Dark is hesitant and unsure, Sukojo has already unlocked the true potential of emotional awareness.
The scene shifts once more, transporting the viewer into the quiet sanctuary of Tier's room. Here, surrounded by technology and the hum of invention, Tier is engrossed in his latest creation. The device before him, bathed in the warm glow of magic-infused machinery, hints at something beyond the ordinary—a device born from the fusion of science and the divine. Its purpose remains unclear, but the gravity of its existence is palpable.
Suddenly, a hologram flickers to life, casting long shadows across the room. The figure that emerges is draped in dark reds and blacks, their pale skin almost ghostly in the dim light. A shattered crown rests atop their head, a symbol of lost power and forgotten reigns.
Cosmic: My name is Cosmic, and I am Existence's Engine.
Tier stands motionless, the dim light of the hologram casting ghostly shadows across his face. His mind races, grappling with the enormity of the message. The weight of what Cosmic had said settles deep within him, like a cold stone sinking in his gut. His fingers tighten around the device as he considers the possibilities, the consequences.
Cosmic: If you are seeing this message, it means something terrible is coming. Forces beyond our understanding will soon collide. You are the last line of defense.
The words echo in the silence of the room, the voice of Cosmic fading into the air, but the warning remains, its presence as oppressive as a gathering storm. Tier takes a shaky breath, the glow of the device dimming as the hologram finishes its message. He ponders for a moment, torn between the urge to protect his friends from this truth and the knowledge that they might need to prepare for what is coming.
Tier: (thinking) Should I tell them? Dark is already dealing with so much, and Leona is still struggling to control her powers... Maybe this is something I have to handle on my own.
His mind flashes to Sukojo. Maybe he could help, but then again, Sukojo wasn't the kind to be easily trusted. Even with Dark keeping him in check, there was always that underlying sense of danger when Sukojo was involved. Tier wasn't sure if he was ready to trust him with something this important.
Tier: (thinking) But Cosmic mentioned something catastrophic... I can't do this alone.
Tier exhales, the weight of the decision pressing down on him. He decides to wait—there's no immediate rush. He'll bring it up to the group when the time is right. For now, the burden of this knowledge is his alone.
He turns, leaving the device behind as he steps out of the room. His footsteps are slow, deliberate, each one heavy with the gravity of the revelation he now carries. As he moves through the house, the atmosphere feels thicker, more oppressive, as if the shadows themselves are listening, waiting for the moment to strike.
When he enters the living room, the scene is a stark contrast to the thoughts swirling in his mind. Leona is curled up, fast asleep on Dark's lap, her face peaceful, oblivious to the weight of the conversation Tier had just had with a being from another time. Dark, ever calm, is watching his favorite show, a rare smile tugging at his lips as the screen reflects in his eyes.
Tier: (softly) Heyo, Dark.
Dark glances up, nodding slightly in acknowledgment, his tone casual, as if the world outside their walls hasn't been threatening to crumble around them for days.
Dark: What's up, bro?
Tier walks over and takes a seat next to Dark, momentarily pushing the weight of Cosmic's message to the back of his mind. For now, there's something simpler he wants to focus on. He watches Dark for a moment, the ease with which he sits there, a stark contrast to the dangerous power Tier knows lurks beneath the surface. Dark's ability to compartmentalize things so easily is almost enviable.
Tier: I was thinking... training tomorrow?
Dark turns his head slightly, raising an eyebrow, mildly surprised.
Dark: You want me to train you?
Tier nods, determination clear in his eyes. After everything he had seen—after everything that was coming—he knew he needed to be more than just the brains behind the group. He needed to stand beside them in combat, to be more than just a support. He needed to be able to fight.
Tier: Yeah, I need to learn how to fight. Not just the tech stuff—I want to learn how to use my hands, to be able to hold my own.
Dark studies Tier's expression for a moment before his lips curl into a small smile. He nods, impressed by Tier's determination.
Dark: Alright, meet me in the Restricted Forest tomorrow.
Tier grins, extending his fist for a bump. There's an unspoken understanding between them now. This training is more than just a lesson—it's a step toward Tier becoming something greater, someone who can face the darkness ahead.
Tier: Got it.
Dark bumps his fist in return, sealing the promise. As their hands connect, the camera pulls out slowly, emphasizing the camaraderie between them, a bond forged in trust and shared purpose. This peaceful moment stands in contrast to the weight of the impending threat Tier carries in his mind.
The scene transitions to a different realm, the floating islands of Shinryu's home. The air is serene here, the sky stretching endlessly above, but beneath this peaceful facade, the storm inside Shinryu rages. Alone on the vast island, he moves with a fury, each punch he throws cracking the very air around him. His training session isn't just physical—it's a release of the pent-up guilt and anguish that has plagued him for centuries.
Shinryu: AAAGHHHHHH!!
His scream reverberates through the space as his fists cut through the atmosphere, each strike radiating with divine energy. The pressure from his attacks sends shockwaves across the floating island, causing the very ground beneath him to tremble. His mind is a battlefield of its own, haunted by memories, regrets, and the deep, unending sorrow of his mother's death.
Suddenly, Shinryu drops to his knees, the weight of his emotions crushing him. His hands fall to the ground, fingers digging into the earth as he gasps for breath, tears mixing with the sweat that drips down his face.
Shinryu: Mother... I want to bring you back...
His voice is barely a whisper now, filled with desperation and pain. His thoughts are consumed by one goal, one desire that has eaten away at him for centuries—to undo the loss that has haunted him. He reaches out for his divine sword, the one artifact that has accompanied him on this journey.
Shinryu: Sword... whatever your name is... Please... tell me how to resurrect her...
The sword glows faintly, its ethereal energy pulsating in response to his plea. The blade's voice, cold and ancient, echoes in Shinryu's mind, answering his desperate call.
Sword: Resurrection is possible, but the cost is great. Are you willing to pay the price?
Shinryu doesn't hesitate. His mother was everything to him, and he would give anything—everything—if it meant he could bring her back.
Shinryu: I don't care about the cost. Just tell me how... I must bring her back.
The sword hums with power, as if weighing his resolve before offering the knowledge he seeks.
Sword: Very well. But know this—what you bring back may not be as you remember. Life and death are intertwined in ways that cannot always be undone.
Shinryu grips the sword tightly, his knuckles turning white. His resolve is unshakable.
Shinryu: I'm ready. Tell me what I have to do.
The camera pans upward as Shinryu stands, the light from the sword illuminating the scene as the skies above begin to darken. The ritual of resurrection has begun.
The next scene finds us in the sacred resting place of Luna. The grave is surrounded by an eerie, otherworldly silence, as if the universe itself is holding its breath. Shinryu stands before the grave, the sword floating above it, crackling with energy as it begins to channel its divine power.
The air hums with electricity, and the ground beneath the grave begins to glow with an intense white light. Shinryu watches with wide eyes, his heart pounding as the light intensifies. For a moment, time seems to slow, the entire world narrowing down to this one sacred moment.
Then, from within the light, a figure begins to form—a silhouette slowly emerging from the glow. Shinryu's breath catches in his throat, his pulse racing as the shape solidifies. The light begins to fade, and there, standing before him, is Luna.
She steps forward, her form glowing faintly, as if she were still partially tethered to the realm from which she had been summoned. Her eyes, filled with love and understanding, meet her son's, and a soft, warm smile graces her lips.
Luna: My son... you've grown so much.
Shinryu falls to his knees before her, tears streaming down his face. He can barely speak, the overwhelming emotion choking him. After so many years, after so much loss, she's here—his mother is here.
Shinryu: I... I'm so sorry... Mother, I...
Luna steps closer, kneeling before him and gently lifting his chin so that their eyes meet. Her gaze is soft, filled with a deep, maternal understanding. There is no anger in her eyes, no reproach—only love.
Luna: There is nothing to be sorry for, my son. You've made mistakes, but you've also grown. You've become stronger... you've taught that man a lesson, haven't you?
Her words are soothing, but Shinryu's heart remains heavy. His hands tremble as he tries to find the words to express the guilt that has been gnawing at him for centuries.
Shinryu: But I couldn't save you... I couldn't stop myself from destroying everything...
His voice breaks as the memories of that fateful day flood his mind. The day he lost control, the day his immense power consumed him, and he annihilated the village he once called home. The weight of it all crushes him, making him feel small, insignificant.
Luna, however, is unwavering in her love for him. She places a hand on his cheek, her touch gentle and warm.
Luna: You did what you had to. We all make mistakes, but it is what we learn from them that makes us stronger.
Her words are like a balm to his wounded soul, but the pain of the years he lost without her still lingers.
Luna: How long... how long have I been gone?
Shinryu's eyes fall, unable to meet hers. The truth is too painful, too heavy.
Shinryu: Ten...
Luna, sensing his hesitation, tilts her head, her curiosity growing.
Luna: Ten years?
Shinryu swallows hard, his voice shaking as he forces himself to say the words.
Shinryu: Ten... thousand years.
The silence that follows is deafening. Luna's eyes widen, her expression shifting from confusion to shock as the weight of time settles over her. Ten thousand years... She had been gone for so long, longer than she could have ever imagined.
Luna: Ten... thousand years?
Her voice is barely a whisper, the shock evident in her trembling form. She steps back, her mind reeling as she tries to comprehend the vastness of the time that has passed. But despite the overwhelming realization, she gathers herself. There is no time to dwell on the past.
Luna: Your brothers, sisters... your father? What of them?
Shinryu's heart clenches at the mention of his family. His voice is quiet, filled with sorrow.
Shinryu: They're all gone... except my father... but even he... I don't know where he is...
Luna exhales softly, the weight of loss pressing down on her. But she doesn't let it consume her. She places a hand on his shoulder, her strength unwavering.
Luna: We've lost so much... but we have each other now, my son. That's what matters.
Her words are a lifeline to Shinryu, a reminder that despite all the pain and suffering, they are together again. He holds on to that, clinging to the love she offers.
But the moment is not without its shadows. A name passes his lips, a name that has haunted him for years.
Shinryu: (softly) Sojo?
Luna's expression changes slightly, her eyes filled with a sadness that mirrors his own.
Luna: Sojo...?
Shinryu lowers his head, the pain of that name cutting deep.
Shinryu: I don't know where he is... I've searched... but I haven't been able to find him. Not for centuries. He's... gone. Or lost. I don't even know anymore.
Luna's gaze softens even more, though a flicker of sorrow dances in her eyes. She had hoped that, at least, some of her family had survived. The loss of Sojo was another wound added to the list.
Luna: My poor son... We will find him. Somehow.
Shinryu looks up at her, his eyes brimming with hope and despair, a potent mixture of emotions too complex to express. He feels like a child again, desperate for his mother's comfort and assurances.
But Luna remains resolute, her strength as a mother shining through. She steps forward and embraces Shinryu tightly. Her arms wrap around him as if to protect him from all the guilt, pain, and grief that still haunt him. Shinryu buries his face in her shoulder, feeling the warmth of her presence, something he never thought he would feel again.
For a moment, the world stands still.
The scene dissolves from the heart-wrenching reunion between Shinryu and Luna to the dense, shadowed depths of the Restricted Forest. The air is thick with tension and the stillness is broken only by the faint rustling of leaves in the wind. Dark and Tier are sparring, their movements swift and precise, each strike and counter-strike echoing through the forest like a symphony of combat.
Dark: Tier, focus. Don't let your guard down.
Tier's breathing is labored, beads of sweat forming on his forehead as he tries to match Dark's movements. His fists strike out, and though his technique is improving, Dark's experience far outweighs his. Dark's movements are fluid, barely breaking a sweat as he parries and dodges with ease.
Dark: You're getting better. Faster. But you need to control your footing. You're still leaving yourself open.
Tier, panting heavily, nods in acknowledgment, his determination only growing. He steps back, wiping the sweat from his brow, eyes fixed on Dark with a renewed focus.
Tier: Yeah... I'll get there.
Dark steps closer, his hand reaching out in a simple, but meaningful gesture. They bump fists, the gesture symbolizing more than just training. It is a promise of growth, of strength yet to be earned, and of friendship.
Dark: Meet me here again tomorrow. We'll go harder.
Tier grins, grateful for the opportunity.
Tier: Thanks, Dark. You're the best.
Dark chuckles, though there's a hint of pride in his smile.
Dark: Haha, no problem.
The camera lingers on the two for a moment, the camaraderie between them palpable. But the peaceful moment is short-lived. From somewhere deeper in the forest, an eerie feeling begins to creep over them, something unseen, yet undeniably present.
Tier, ever observant, is the first to sense it.
Tier: You feel that?
Dark's demeanor shifts instantly, his senses sharpening. His eyes narrow as he looks around, his body tensing as if preparing for a fight.
Dark: Yeah... something's off.
Suddenly, the silence is broken by the unmistakable sound of footsteps. Shinryu emerges from the shadows, his expression distant, his form radiating a dark, void-like aura. His cape sways unnaturally, lifted by the malevolent energy that now surrounds him. His eyes, once filled with divine light, are now black, deep and endless.
Before anyone can react, a figure bursts from the trees, catching Shinryu off guard. The stranger moves with deadly precision, his clothes ragged and battle-worn, his grey eyes sharp and unyielding. Shinryu stumbles back slightly, his aura flaring in response, but the stranger's movements are quick, calculated.
The rest of the group watches in stunned silence, unsure of who this man is or why he's attacking Shinryu. The tension escalates as Shinryu steadies himself, glaring at the stranger.
Shinryu: Who in the absolute seventh hell are you?
The stranger's voice is low, filled with an unsettling calm as he speaks.
"I am... Death."
The air thickens with the weight of his words. His voice carries the authority of something ancient, something beyond mortal comprehension.
"Prince of Death."
"Zyke."
Zyke: And you, Shinryu, have broken the laws of existence.
Shinryu's eyes narrow in defiance, the void-like energy swirling more violently around him.
Before Shinryu can respond, Dark steps forward, his expression one of annoyance rather than fear.
Dark: Oi, who the hell do you think you are?
Dark's voice is casual, but there's a deadly edge to it, as if he's not taking the intruder seriously. His gaze fixes on Zyke, sizing him up.
Dark: So what if he's broken your so-called "laws"? He has the right to do whatever he wants.
Zyke barely glances at Dark, his expression one of cold indifference, as if Dark's words mean nothing to him.
Zyke: Dark, the Shadow Beast.
Zyke's voice is cutting, his disdain for Dark palpable.
Zyke: Do yourself a favor and shut the hell up. You're like... a nobody. Worthless. Always whining about how Sukojo does things you don't like. It's pathetic.
Zyke's words strike deep, but they don't reach Dark the way he might have expected. Instead, Sukojo's presence begins to surface, pushing past Dark's control with ease.
Sukojo: Oi oi oi, ZYKE!
Sukojo's voice reverberates, booming through Dark's body as his presence fully takes over. His stance is different now, more aggressive, more commanding. He steps forward, a predatory grin spreading across his face.
Sukojo: You think this boy has no control? You think I'm just here for the ride?
Zyke's eyes flash with recognition, though his expression remains cold. He lets out a small, mocking scoff.
Zyke: Tch... Sukojo.
Zyke's thoughts race as he sizes up the situation, trying to determine just how much of a threat Sukojo really is.
Zyke: (thinking) What does he want...? Why is he here with them...?
After a brief pause, Zyke's tone shifts, more calculated, almost challenging.
Zyke: Show me, then. Show me how fast you are right now, Sukojo.
The challenge hangs in the air for a moment before Sukojo disappears from sight. The camera pans wildly, searching for him, but Sukojo is gone in a blur. When he reappears, he's standing right next to Zyke, his left arm draped casually over Zyke's shoulder. His eyes gleam with amusement.
Sukojo: Not even my top speed.
Zyke's eyes widen slightly, the faintest hint of surprise crossing his face.
Zyke: (thinking) He's fast... Too fast.
Without warning, the world shifts. Everything turns black and white as time itself seems to bend to Zyke's will. Everything slows down—except Zyke. Moving with deliberate precision, Zyke reaches out and grabs Sukojo by the head, pulling him away from his shoulder before pushing him back towards Luna and Tier. Time snaps back to normal as Zyke's form flickers.
Sukojo's eyes widen for a fraction of a second, a rare moment of genuine surprise.
Sukojo: When did you...?
Zyke's lips twitch into a smirk, his eyes locking onto Sukojo with a predatory gleam. The scene freezes for a moment, the tension thick in the air as Sukojo processes what just happened.
Sukojo: (thinking) It's either speed... or a Time Lapse ability.
Sukojo: (thinking) Time Lapse requires an Awakened Soul... could Zyke have one?
Sukojo's thoughts race, trying to determine the next move. His fists tighten, and for a moment, his expression darkens.
Sukojo: (thinking) No one else could see my negative energy. I could end this right now, break his arm, kill him. Sorry, Dark, but...
Sukojo hesitates, weighing his options. He knows Zyke is dangerous, and if he doesn't act, the others could be in danger. He can't afford to hold back.
Sukojo: (thinking) If I don't act, Zyke will kill them all.
Sukojo's fist inches closer to Zyke's forehead, the air around them crackling with energy. The tension is unbearable, each second feeling like an eternity as the power builds. Then, with a blinding flash, Sukojo strikes. The impact sends Zyke flying into the sky, his body crashing through the air with immense force.
The scene shifts rapidly as Zyke's body rockets through the atmosphere, the impact shattering planets as he hurdles through the cosmos. The world blurs between black and white and vivid color as the force of the blow echoes across galaxies.
Sukojo leaps after him, his fingers brushing against Zyke's face as he pulls him back down to earth with a fierce, unforgiving grasp. The ground shatters beneath Zyke's body as he crashes into the earth once more.
Sukojo: You done?
Zyke, bloodied but still alive, lets out a strained chuckle.
Zyke: Oi Sukojo... You talk too much.
Sukojo smirks, wiping the dust off his hands as he steps closer, unrelenting.
Sukojo: Not even close to done.
Sukojo towers over the battered form of Zyke, the air thick with the tension of battle. Zyke's blood stains the ground beneath him, but his spirit is far from broken. He lifts his head, glaring up at Sukojo with a mixture of defiance and amusement.
Zyke: You think... you've got me figured out, huh?
Sukojo: Figured out? No. But I know you're hanging by a thread. One I can snap with a flick of my wrist.
Sukojo's voice is cold, calculated, each word carrying a weight that sends a chill through the air. His fists clench, crackling with latent energy, ready to finish what he started. Yet, deep down, there's an unsettling calm to his demeanor. He's still toying with Zyke, not fully unleashing his true power.
But Zyke—despite the blood dripping from his lips, despite the bruises blooming across his skin—is far from finished. His eyes narrow, a dark gleam sparking within them as he begins to push himself off the ground. His voice comes out in a low growl.
Zyke: You're good... I'll give you that... but you're about to see why I'm called Death.
Before Sukojo can react, Zyke's body erupts in a black, swirling mist, a manifestation of his true power. The air around him distorts, the trees bending and warping under the weight of his dark energy. His eyes glow with an eerie light as his form begins to shift. Black veins crawl up his skin, his body expanding with every breath, his wounds healing almost instantly.
Zyke: Welcome to the domain of Death.
Sukojo's eyes sharpen, but his face remains unmoved. He doesn't flinch, even as the ground around him cracks under the pressure of Zyke's transformation.
Sukojo: This your big move, Zyke? This is what you're bringing me?
His words drip with disdain as he watches Zyke's transformation. Sukojo stretches his arms casually, rolling his shoulders as though this was just another warm-up. The smirk on his face only deepens.
Sukojo: Show me what you've got, then.
Zyke's voice reverberates through the forest, deeper now, otherworldly, filled with a malevolent energy.
Zyke: You asked for it.
Zyke vanishes from sight, moving at a speed so fast it warps the air around him. One second he's in front of Sukojo, the next he's behind him, launching a ferocious strike aimed directly at Sukojo's back. His fists glow with dark energy, an attack designed to drain the very life from its target.
But Sukojo is ready. He doesn't turn, doesn't move. Instead, his body pulses with a sudden surge of power. A barrier of shimmering red energy materializes just as Zyke's fist collides with it, causing a shockwave that ripples outwards, tearing through the trees and sending a blast of wind howling through the forest. Zyke's attack is stopped cold.
Sukojo: Nice trick. But it's not enough.
Without warning, Sukojo turns, and in one fluid motion, delivers a devastating roundhouse kick that catches Zyke in the ribs. The force of the blow sends Zyke skidding back, his feet digging deep trenches in the dirt as he tries to regain his balance. He coughs, spitting blood, but the black energy swirling around him intensifies.
Zyke: You think this ends with physical power? I am the embodiment of death itself. You can't kill what's already dead.
Zyke's body morphs again, his form becoming even more twisted. His arms elongate, shadowy tendrils sprouting from his back, each one tipped with claws that gleam like obsidian. His eyes—now completely black—burn with the void. He slashes the air, and the ground beneath him splits, creating a chasm that glows with a hellish light.
Sukojo watches with a mixture of amusement and curiosity.
Sukojo: Ah, now we're getting somewhere.
Zyke lunges again, this time with the tendrils at his back whipping towards Sukojo at breakneck speed. They strike like serpents, each one carrying enough force to obliterate a lesser being. But Sukojo, with a devious smirk on his face, sidesteps each attack with an almost lazy grace, his movements fluid and unhurried.
Sukojo: Gotta say, I expected more from Death.
With a sudden burst of speed, Sukojo closes the gap between them. He slams his fist into Zyke's gut, sending a wave of shock through Zyke's body. The impact is immediate, the dark tendrils retracting as Zyke stumbles backward, coughing violently. Before Zyke can recover, Sukojo is upon him again, this time gripping him by the throat, lifting him into the air with ease.
Sukojo: You know, for someone claiming to be Death, you bleed just like the rest of us.
Sukojo's grip tightens, and Zyke's body twitches as he gasps for breath. His hands claw at Sukojo's arm, trying in vain to break free.
Sukojo: This is disappointing. I thought you'd at least entertain me for a bit longer.
Zyke, his voice now a rasp, manages to speak through the pressure on his throat.
Zyke: You... underestimate... the true power of death...
Suddenly, the black mist around Zyke's body begins to shift. It coils and wraps around Sukojo's arm, like tendrils of darkness sinking into his skin. For the first time, Sukojo's expression falters, his eyes narrowing as he feels something—something foreign—beginning to creep into his body.
Zyke grins through the pain.
Zyke: You can't fight what you don't understand, Sukojo. My essence... is the void itself.
The dark mist spreads further, moving through Sukojo's veins, attempting to siphon his life force. Sukojo's hand trembles, his grip on Zyke loosening slightly. The forest around them seems to darken, the light dimming as if the very air was being drained of vitality.
For a brief moment, it seems as though Zyke might turn the tide.
But then, Sukojo's devious smile returns, and his eyes gleam with a dangerous light.
Sukojo: Cute trick, Zyke. But you've forgotten one thing.
With a sudden burst of overwhelming energy, Sukojo's aura explodes outward, a brilliant red light engulfing the darkness. The force of his power obliterates the mist, sending Zyke flying back, crashing into the ground with a bone-shattering thud. The earth trembles under the sheer force of Sukojo's energy, trees uprooted by the blast.
Sukojo: I've already devoured the void.
Zyke lies in the dirt, barely conscious, his body broken and bloodied. His eyes flicker, the fight slowly fading from them as he struggles to push himself up.
Zyke: Impossible... you... can't...
Sukojo steps forward, the ground cracking beneath his feet with each step. He looms over Zyke, his eyes glowing with an intensity that sends a chill down the spine of anyone watching.
Sukojo: I don't just consume worlds, Zyke. I consume everything.
He raises his hand, and for a brief moment, Zyke sees the end. The Devourer of All has spoken, and there is nothing left but oblivion.
But just as Sukojo is about to deliver the final blow, Luna steps forward, her voice cutting through the chaos like a blade.
Luna: Stop.
Sukojo hesitates, his gaze shifting to her. For a moment, the tension in the air pauses, the forest holding its breath as Luna approaches. She stands between Sukojo and Zyke, her eyes soft but resolute.
Luna: He's not worth it, Sukojo.
Sukojo lowers his hand, though his eyes remain locked on Zyke.
Sukojo: You sure about that?
Luna nods, her voice calm and steady.
Luna: Let it go. There's no need to destroy everything.
Sukojo's gaze lingers on her for a moment longer before he finally relents, stepping back with a sigh.
Sukojo: Fine. Have it your way.
He turns and walks away, the remnants of his overwhelming power fading into the ether. Zyke, still lying on the ground, watches as Sukojo disappears into the shadows of the forest. He coughs, the weight of his defeat pressing down on him, but the battle is over.
Luna helps Zyke to his feet, her touch gentle but firm.
Luna: You'll heal. But don't make the mistake of underestimating him again.
Zyke, still reeling from the fight, nods weakly.
Zyke: I won't...
The scene fades, the forest returning to its eerie stillness as the group prepares to leave, the echoes of the battle lingering in the air like a distant memory.
As the dust of battle settles and the forest quiets, the tension in the air dissipates, leaving only the lingering echoes of the power that had just been unleashed. Dark, now back in control of his body, takes a deep breath, wiping the sweat from his brow as he walks toward Luna and Tier. Zyke remains on the ground, his energy drained, the once-feared Prince of Death reduced to a mere shadow of his former self.
Luna turns to Dark, a gentle expression on her face.
Luna: You alright?
Dark nods slowly, still feeling the weight of Sukojo's immense power within him. It's an ever-present force, lurking beneath the surface, waiting for the moment it can be unleashed again.
Dark: Yeah, I'm fine.
There's a pause, a quiet moment shared between them as the gravity of what had just transpired sinks in. Luna glances over at Zyke, her brow furrowed slightly.
Luna: He's lucky. If it weren't for you and Sukojo's restraint, this could've been a lot worse.
Tier, standing to the side, speaks up, his voice hesitant.
Tier: What... what even was that? That power... it was like nothing I've ever seen before.
Dark looks at him, a somber expression crossing his face.
Dark: That's the power of Sukojo. He's not just a second soul living inside me. He's... something more. Something ancient. Something... devastating.
Luna chimes in, her voice soft but filled with the wisdom of years long past.
Luna: Sukojo is the Devourer Of All. He's a being that transcends normal concepts of life and death. He consumes, he destroys, but there's more to him than that. In ancient times, his name struck fear into the hearts of gods, mortals, and demons alike. But there's a complexity to him that most don't see. He's a force of nature... but also a force of mercy when he chooses to be.
Dark's gaze hardens as he remembers the battles they've fought, the devastation they've left in their wake.
Dark: I've come to understand that. But it's not easy carrying that power. Knowing what he's capable of. What he can do. What he will do, if I ever lose control.
Tier shifts uncomfortably, still processing the sheer scale of what he's witnessed. He's a man of technology, of logic and reason, and the raw, destructive power that Dark and Sukojo possess shakes the very foundations of his understanding of the world.
Tier: And you trust him? Sukojo, I mean?
Dark pauses for a moment, considering his answer carefully.
Dark: It's not about trust. It's about survival. As long as I'm in control, he won't do anything... too destructive. But if I ever lose control... well, we've seen what can happen.
The words hang in the air like a warning, a reminder of the precarious balance that Dark walks every day. The others remain silent for a moment, letting the gravity of the situation sink in.
Then, from behind them, there's a soft groan. Zyke, still battered and broken, pushes himself up on one elbow, his eyes flickering open. There's a dullness in his gaze, the fire of defiance extinguished.
Zyke: You... should've killed me.
Dark turns, looking down at him, his expression unreadable.
Dark: Maybe. But that's not who I am.
Zyke coughs, blood dripping from the corner of his mouth. He chuckles, a bitter sound, filled with equal parts resignation and amusement.
Zyke: You'll regret that... mercy.
Luna steps forward, her eyes soft but firm as she crouches down next to Zyke.
Luna: Mercy is not a weakness. Remember that.
Zyke's lips curl into a faint, sardonic smile, but he says nothing. He's too weak to argue, too broken to fight back. Instead, he closes his eyes, his body sinking into the earth, resigned to his fate.
Leona, who had been silently observing the exchange, finally steps forward, her expression serious.
Leona: What do we do with him?
Dark glances down at Zyke, the once formidable Prince of Death reduced to little more than a shell. There's a moment of contemplation before he answers.
Dark: Let him go. If he's smart, he won't come after us again.
Leona raises an eyebrow, surprised by the decision.
Leona: Just like that? After everything?
Dark shrugs, his face calm but his tone firm.
Dark: We're not executioners. If he wants to try again, he'll know what he's up against. But for now... he's no threat.
Zyke coughs again, but this time there's no bitterness in his voice. Just exhaustion.
Zyke: Maybe... maybe I was wrong about you.
Dark doesn't respond. Instead, he turns away, signaling that the conversation is over. Leona watches him for a moment longer before nodding and stepping back.
Luna, ever the calm and measured presence, stands as well, offering a hand to Zyke. He hesitates for a moment before accepting it, though his body wavers with weakness.
Luna: Go. Rest. This fight is over.
Zyke nods weakly, his body trembling as he stands, using Luna's strength to support himself. He casts one last glance at Dark and the others, his face unreadable, before he slowly begins to limp away, disappearing into the forest's dark shadows.
As Zyke fades from view, the group stands in silence, the weight of what they've just faced still lingering in the air. It feels as though the forest itself is holding its breath, waiting for what comes next.
Tier breaks the silence first, his voice hesitant but curious.
Tier: So... what now?
Dark sighs, running a hand through his hair.
Dark: Now... we move forward. There's still a lot ahead of us. And after this... we need to be ready for anything.
Luna, standing beside him, places a gentle hand on his shoulder.
Luna: You're strong, Dark. You and Sukojo both. But remember, strength isn't just about power. It's about control. And you have more control than you realize.
Dark nods, though there's a lingering uncertainty in his eyes. He knows the truth of her words, but he also knows how close he came to losing that control. And with the battles yet to come, he wonders how long he can keep it.
Leona steps forward, her voice steady.
Leona: We're with you, Dark. Whatever comes next, we'll face it together.
Dark smiles faintly, a glimmer of hope flickering within him.
Dark: Thanks, Leona.
For a moment, the forest is still, the group standing together in solidarity. But in the distance, the shadows shift, and the wind carries with it the whisper of something darker. Something yet unseen.
But for now, they rest.
The night air in the Restricted Forest is cool and still. Dark, Leona, Tier, and Luna rest by the dim glow of the fading fire, the weight of their recent battles heavy on their minds. There's a fleeting sense of peace, though they all know it's temporary—a brief lull before the next storm.
Dark: (thinking) For now, we rest. But this... this is only the beginning.
Sukojo: (thinking) You finally starting to get it, brat. This moment won't last long. Something's brewing.
Dark shifts slightly, his gaze lost in the flickering flames. Leona, sitting beside him, senses the tension in his shoulders but doesn't push him to talk. She knows him well enough by now to understand when silence speaks louder than words. Luna remains standing, her posture regal and alert, eyes scanning the treetops as though she's expecting an unwelcome visitor at any moment.
Luna: (quietly) This forest holds secrets. I can feel it... we need to be ready.
Tier, ever the realist, runs a hand through his hair, leaning back against the nearest tree, exhausted but still vigilant.
Tier: Secrets or not, I'll take this peace while it lasts. (sighs) Can't remember the last time I had a good night's sleep.
Leona: Same here. But Tier's right—we need to rest. We can't face whatever comes next if we're running on empty.
The group settles in, their exhaustion finally overtaking them. As they drift off one by one, the fire dies down, leaving the forest cloaked in darkness. In the distance, the faint rustling of leaves and the far-off call of nocturnal creatures create an eerie soundtrack to their uneasy rest.
The morning sun rises slowly over the forest, casting long shadows as the group stirs. Dark is the first to awaken, immediately alert, as though sleep was never really an option for him. His eyes scan the tree line, muscles tense, before he rises, careful not to disturb the others. He steps away from the camp, the weight of the past few days pressing heavily on his chest.
Dark: (thinking) We have to keep moving. But how much longer can we keep this up?
Sukojo: (thinking) You're stronger than you think. Stop doubting yourself.
Dark: (thinking) Easy for you to say. You're not the one living this life, feeling this pain.
Sukojo falls silent, but Dark can feel the presence of his second soul lingering, watching, waiting. He takes a deep breath, exhaling slowly, before turning back toward the camp where the others are beginning to stir.
Leona: (groggily) Morning already?
Dark: Yeah. We should get moving soon.
Luna is already on her feet, her sharp eyes scanning the horizon. She nods in agreement.
Luna: The forest feels... unsettled. It's as though it knows something we don't. We shouldn't stay here longer than necessary.
Tier groans, rubbing his eyes before standing and gathering his things.
Tier: Great, more walking. (mock enthusiasm) Just what I was hoping for today.
Leona shoots him a playful grin, despite the tension that lingers in the air.
Leona: You wanted adventure, right? No turning back now.
Dark watches the exchange with a faint smile, but his mind is elsewhere. He tightens his grip on his katana, feeling the weight of responsibility growing heavier with each passing day.
Dark: Let's move. We've wasted enough time already.
The group sets off deeper into the forest, the air thick with an unspoken anticipation. Each step feels like a countdown to something inevitable—something they can sense but not yet see.
As they walk, the silence between them grows, a reflection of the uncertainty clouding their thoughts. They are far from where they began, yet still not close enough to where they need to be.
Tier: (quietly to Dark) So... what's the plan now?
Dark: (without hesitation) We keep going. No matter what.
Tier nods, though he doesn't press for details. He trusts Dark, even if none of them can see what's coming.
Sukojo: (thinking) You better be ready. The calm before the storm is worse than the storm itself.
Without a word, Luna steps away from the group, disappearing into the shadows of the forest, her presence fading as the tension thickens. Dark, Leona, and Tier exchange glances but say nothing, the weight of what's ahead resting heavily on their shoulders.
They arrive at the edge of a massive arena, its towering stone walls rising like ancient sentinels of time. The arena hums with an air of forgotten battles, its sands marked by the footsteps of warriors long past. Spectators fill the towering stands, their cheers a distant roar that echoes through the ages. Tier and Leona take it all in with wide eyes, but Dark's gaze is locked on the battleground below, where the stage is set.
Dark: (quietly) This is where it begins.
A hush falls over the arena as the first challenger steps forward, and the weight of destiny presses down upon them all.
End Of chapter 9.