[???]
"You three are tenacious," Grimm's voice cut through the air. His tone was neither impressed nor disappointed—just stating a fact. "But that's all."
The ground beneath them continued to tremble violently as if recoiling from the devastation, in the far distance, an enormous pillar of light had ruptured the skies, spearing into the sky above and sending shockwaves across the planet.
Chunks of earth the size of continents—were being launched into the air, breaking apart like fragile pottery as they drifted weightlessly before succumbing to gravity's pull. They crashed back down in the far-off distance with world-ending force, sending tsunamis of rock into the sky. The raw, unfiltered violence of it all was suffocating, yet none of them could afford to look away from the man who stood before them.
Not a man. A monster.
Lilith's brows furrowed heavily, her eyes narrowing in barely concealed frustration. Mocking. He was mocking them. And worse—he was right. Reylthorn's expression mirrored hers, his jaw set in a tight line as his gaze flicked toward Grimm with barely restrained irritation.
Neither of them spoke.
Because acknowledging it—even for a moment—would be conceding ground they could not afford to lose.
Yet even as they stared him down, as their bodies screamed in protest from the battle thus far, they could not ignore the shuddering in their bones, the sinking sensation of something fundamental unraveling around them.
Isabella clutched her harp tighter, the instrument trembling in her grip.
("I knew he was a powerful foe when I first saw him in Vel'ryr.") Her thoughts spiraled, drowning. She had felt it, even then—an instinctual, primal terror. But seeing him in battle? That was something else entirely.
Her fingers tightened around the strings of her harp, knuckles whitening.
("If Lyraeth and I had fought him that day...") A deep, unsettled frown etched itself onto her face, her breath catching in her throat. ("We would have died.")
It wasn't pessimism. It wasn't self-doubt.
It was simply the truth.
Lilith broke the silence first, her voice controlled. "I'm quite surprised Vel'ryr had another monster like you lurking in their midst."
It was a bold statement, one that carried desperation. Grimm exhaled, a deep, unimpressed sigh escaping from beneath his helm.
"Are you trying to buy time with pointless chatter?" His stance didn't shift, his posture didn't betray the faintest hint of concern, he wasn't preparing for an attack. "No one is coming to save you."
Reylthorn scoffed, irritation flashing across his features. "As if we need anyone to! The fight's barely over."
Grimm let out a short, harsh chuckle. A sound so devoid of effort it barely counted as laughter.
"The fight may as well be over." His tone was dry. "You amateurs have been throwing huge-ass attacks my way and calling it a day." He waved a gauntleted hand lazily, as if swatting away an annoying insect.
Reylthorn's eye twitched, Lilith inhaled sharply. Grimm had been analyzing them this entire time.
("Save for the girl with the harp... the situation still hasn't quite sunk in for them.")
His gaze flickered between Lilith and Reylthorn, his mind piecing together their shortcomings.
("They're not weak. Not at all. In fact, they're absurdly powerful.") But power was meaningless if it was wasted. ("They've either been coddled or have never faced a real opponent before. Their technique? Subpar. Their efficiency? Laughable. They're hemorrhaging energy because they're used to ending fights in minutes.")
He almost pitied them.
("Hmph. My soldiers are far better when it comes to skill.")
There was the faintest temptation to pat himself on the back. After all, his men were disciplined, honed into something worthy of battle. These two? They were strong, but strength without refinement was just wasted potential.
His attention shifted, his gaze locking onto Isabella, something about her nagged at his memory.
His head tilted slightly. "Hey, harp girl."
Isabella flinched at the sudden spotlight of his attention, her fingers nearly slipping against the strings of her instrument. Grimm's voice was casual, but the contrast of such an ominous figure speaking so informally was almost comedic.
"Have we met?"
Isabella's lips parted, hesitant. "Y-yes, we met back in Vel'ryr. I was raiding one of the labs with someone."
Grimm's fingers tightened around his sword, the movement barely perceptible.
"Oh, right. You."
He recalled it now—that incident. The unethical experimentation. A red-haired girl and a meek, salmon-haired girl tearing through the facility. She was the latter.
His grip loosened.
("Attacking her would leave a bad taste in my mouth.") He rolled his shoulder, his blade still loosely gripped in his hand. ("I'll just rough up the other two and make her surrender.")
His stance remained lax, yet he noticed something.
"Oi, sis," Reylthorn's whisper reached Lilith, though Grimm's keen senses picked up every syllable. "Seems our only option left is that."
He said nothing.
("A last, desperate gamble, huh?")
He could see it—the shift in their postures, their breath-steadying focus.
("Even if they're not actively casting magic, the fact remains—Arcane Ascendance still drains their mana. At best? They've got five minutes left.")
Lilith's lips pressed into a thin line. "It seems so." Her gaze flickered toward Isabella. "Listen, Isabella," she began, her tone heavier than before. "This is mine and Reylthorn's last card. At the very least, we're going to seriously injure that monster—so we need you to enhance us."
Her eyes locked onto Isabella's.
"To the utmost limit."
Isabella inhaled sharply—then nodded.
"Got it!"
She lifted her harp.
("Fine, then. Let's see how much fight you've really got left.") Grimm mused.
Reylthorn and Lilith roared in unison.
"LIMIT BREAKER!"
The battlefield reacted violently. The words had barely left their lips before a surge of power erupted from their bodies. It wasn't an explosion, more like a phenomenon that transcended human comprehension.
A tidal wave of searing light consumed them.
The air ignited in an instant as an unimaginable force surged outward, expanding in a pulse of force. The ground beneath them fractured apart like fragile glass, massive chasms tearing across the ruined land.
The concept of space distorted around them.
Isabella staggered back, her breath hitching as the intensity of the transformation threatened to crush her lungs.
("What—what in the name of the Gods is this?!")
Even Grimm, for the first time in this entire battle, slightly adjusted his stance, not in fear but in interest.
The raw force of the transformation sent shockwaves spiraling outward, carving deep trenches into the earth and shattering the sky, warping it into a swirling hues. Lightning—not of any element known to man—thundered through the skies.
In the cocoon of light, their essence fused—splintering apart in an explosion, revealing the new form that had emerged from the violent metamorphosis. A towering figure now stood where the siblings had once been—its presence utterly overwhelming, the air trembling beneath with its existence.
Their new form was a synthesis of two souls.
Its body was adorned in armor, sculpted from radiant metals—polished gold mixed with black veins pulsing with blue light. It had four powerful arms, the armor seamlessly wrapped around their elongated form.
And then, there was the mask.
Or rather—the two faces.
The entity's head was adorned with a tarp-like mantle, falling down its shoulders. The mask it wore was a thing of bifurcated—one half depicting a serene divine countenance, the face of Lilith molded into an expression of beauty, while the other half bore a wrathful snarl, Reylthorn's.
Two distinct voices resonated from the entity in an harmony, their tones layered upon one another.
"We are no longer two—"
The voice that spoke was neither wholly Lilith nor entirely Reylthorn. It was a convergence, something greater than the sum of its parts.
"We are OMEGASUL—THE AVATAR OF ARCTURUS!"
Their four hands flexed, fingers cracking the air as energy bled from every motion. The twin mouths of their mask curled.
Grimm's eyes flickered beneath his helm.
"Well, now," he murmured, his grip around his weapon tightening. "An impressive light show at least." Despite the overwhelming magnitude of what had just transpired—despite the God-like presence that now loomed before him—his tone remained casual.
Almost pleased.
The ground continued to quake beneath the colossal energy radiating from Omegasul, but Grimm did not move. He simply observed, his mind dissecting every facet of their new form.
("Merging two entirely distinct combatants into a singular existence…now that's an impressive gamble.")
From the sidelines, Isabella stared, her expression caught between awe and absolute terror. ("I… I didn't think they could do this.")
The power radiating from them was unlike anything she had ever felt. It was foreign. Otherworldly.
And for the first time since this battle began…
She thought they might have a chance. Omegasul took a single step forward—and the area buckled beneath them. The mere movement of their foot caused the land to warp. It was no longer just an opponent standing before Grimm—it was an unstoppable force.
"GRIMM—PREPARE YOURSELF."
Their four arms raised in perfect synchronization.
"YOU FACE THE TRUE EMBODIMENT OF LIMITLESS ASCENDANCE!"
Their layered voices resonated through the warped remnants of the terrain, commanding yet oddly reverent.
"ISABELLA. WE REQUIRE YOUR POWER. SHATTER THE LIMITS OF OUR EXISTENCE."
Her fingers trembled over the strings of her harp, the instrument's frame vibrating violently in response to the energy radiating from Omegasul. The mere act of plucking a single note sent ripples through the air.
Isabella gritted her teeth.
No hesitation.
No fear.
Only the song, she drew back her hands—and played. A single note pierced the air.
The melody surged forth, intertwining with Omegasul's essence, mixing into the energy that made up their being. Resonant threads of power wrapped around them, spiraling upward, infusing them with something beyond power.
Omegasul's entire form ignited with newfound power, for a fraction of a second, the entire world stood still. Omegasul raised all four hands—and brought them down.
Reality snapped.
An invisible force, one that defied logic, erupted from their being—a cataclysmic compression, not an explosion, but an absolute command for all matter to be expelled from its rightful place.
The air collapsed inward—and then surged outward in an instant.
The force struck Grimm. It was not something that could be dodged, not something that could be countered—it was inevitable. The moment it made contact, he was gone.
Blasted skyward.
Not just flung—launched.
The velocity tore apart the atmosphere, a sonic boom of catastrophic proportions rippling outward as his form became an incandescent streak of black and red, piercing the sky like a burning meteor.
His body was not harmed. But the force was so absurd, so overwhelming, that before he could fully process what had happened—
He was already in space, a moment of weightlessness.
His body continued its impossible ascent, tearing past the uppermost limits of the sky, breaking through layers of atmosphere at speeds that defied physics. Air abandoned him, the world below diminishing into a speck.
Then—impact.
A collision.
He slammed into an asteroid, the force embedding him into its surface, shattering the already fractured rock into thousands of debris fragments. The impact sent an echoing quake through space, the asteroid itself breaking apart into several as Grimm's body remained untouched.
A deep, slow exhale.
He floated, suspended in the weightless abyss of space, the remnants of the asteroid drifting lazily around him. His eyes narrowed, scanning the endless, star-strewn expanse.
Faintly, in the far reaches of the void, he saw it, other combatants. Distant figures— locked in battle—battling amongst the debris of stars and the shattered remnants of a planet.
Grimm barely spared them a glance.
("Not my problem.")
His attention snapped back to himself.
Even after being launched beyond the world, his body was completely intact—not even a scratch marred his armor. But there was something else, something subtle. His hands twitched—the very first sign that something in this fight had managed to disrupt his equilibrium.
"Hah."
A quiet chuckle left his lips.
"That actually sent me flying, huh?"
His fingers flexed once, and oxygen returned. A subtle ripple of his Draconic Resonance pulsed outward, an invisible force bending the elements to his will. In an instant, a thin but stable field of oxygen surrounded his body, warping reality to accommodate his continued existence in space.
The cold, airless vacuum of space held no power over him.
His form stabilized, sabatons gently pressing against the largest remaining chunk of the destroyed asteroid. His hair billowed in the absence of wind, his eyes narrowed beneath his helm as he turned his gaze downward—toward the world below.
A streak of radiant gold and blue was ascending, they were coming for him.
Like a spear, Omegasul pierced through the space, their form propelled by an invisible force, their newly enhanced state still surging with Isabella's melody. Their four eyes locked onto Grimm, they halted a few paces away, their towering form hovering effortlessly in the infinite void.
"YOU STILL STAND, MONSTER."
Grimm tilted his head, rolling his shoulder.
"Tch. 'Stand' isn't exactly the right word. Hard to do that when I just got thrown into space." The sheer audacity of his casual tone amidst such a presence was almost comedic.
Omegasul's twin-faced mask did not move, yet their presence seemed to frown.
"WE HAVE TRANSCENDED."
"YOU WILL FALL."
Grimm huffed, his fingers tapping lazily against his sword hilt.
"Oh? That so?"
He flexed his grip.
"Guess I better stop holding back, then."
But then both of their gazes snapped to the dead planet that used to be their battlefield. For they sensed something that should not exist.