For a moment, silence.
And then —
The world convulsed.
Kaelix's body was still locked in midair, suspended in the aftermath of his failed attack, but the realm around him began to distort, twist, and unravel. The black and grey colors of the sky harden, etching themselves permanently into the world.
The stage distorted like water beneath him, not from any physical force, but from reality itself rejecting its former shape. Light slowed down. Sound became sluggish. Kaelix could feel his own thoughts drifting like smoke, unable to latch onto time.
Something had changed—not just in the space, but in the rules that governed it.
And they had changed permanently.
Kaelix managed to steady himself, clutching at the edge of a bent pillar that was now floating sideways in the air. His voice escaped before he could think:
"What… is happening…?"
The reply came at once.
Smooth. Undistorted. Familiar.
Too familiar.
"The integration is complete."
Kaelix turned his head sharply. The entity floated just above the broken arena. It no longer flickered, no longer shifted between shapes like static. Its form had solidified, and the sight made Kaelix's heart drop.
It looked like Nick, his brother—but monstrous. His hair was still that deep, vibrant red, but tangled with bone-like spines that curled down his back like a crown of thorns. His arms were armored in carapace plating, glossy and white with faint veins of crimson ichor pulsing beneath.
From his back spread mantle-like tendrils, waving gently as if underwater. His skin still bore the shape of a human, but his eyes were a pool of glitching color, and his smile was too wide, too precise.
"The Advent has finalized its integration in this realm," the entity said—Nick's voice, pitch-perfect, calm, and cruel. "This space is no longer salvageable. Everything changed by the Advent has been permanently altered. The laws, the ground, the creatures—all mine now."
Kaelix swallowed hard, eyes narrowed, voice trembling with frustration.
"What does that mean…? Is this it…?"
The entity rotated lazily in the air, gesturing to the broken landscape.
"It means if—by some unimaginable twist—you had defeated me, this zone would collapse, and all that I twisted would unravel. Those still living would return to what they once were. But those already dead... well, they stay dead."
"Not that it matters, though." It laughed
"Because you failed to do so anyway."
Kaelix's fists clenched as a sharp breath rattled from his chest. But there was only one thing he needed to know.
"Would… would Nick have come back… if I succeeded?"
The entity's face turned sharply toward him.
Then, it laughed.
A high, cold, cruel laugh that echoed across the bent horizon like a bell of mockery.
"You fool. That was never possible. He gave himself up completely. Every inch. Every memory. Every cell."
Its voice grew low and cruel, "Your brother doesn't exist anymore."
Kaelix's entire body went cold. His vision narrowed like a tunnel. The sky twisted into hues of grey and black. For a moment, he didn't speak. He couldn't.
The entity tilted its head, amused.
"Oh? Have I broken the little false Adversary's spirit?"
A blur of motion answered.
Kaelix lunged. A fist, wild and blazing with instinct, flew past the entity's face, missing by an inch. The shockwave it left behind moved the air.
The entity didn't flinch. It didn't blink.
It sighed.
"Still trying? After everything? You still have not realized it is fruitless."
But Kaelix wasn't listening. His eyes blazed, his mouth twisted in a growl.
"I don't care what it takes. I won't let you wear his face… not one second longer."
The entity's amusement faded.
"Then die faster."
With a sudden flick of its arm, it drew its fist back—and before Kaelix could blink, before he could call out to ignite his blood, before he could even curse—it drove its entire arm through Kaelix's chest.
A violent squelch.
His body seized. The impact blew his heart out in a single, brutal motion.
Kaelix coughed, a thick spurt of deep crimson exploding from his mouth as his limbs trembled violently. Blood poured from the gaping hole in his chest in endless, choking waves. His vision blurred instantly as his body began shutting down.
The entity leaned in close. It brought its mouth to Kaelix's ear and whispered, voice slow and venomous:
"You were always a bug. A noise. A mistake."
It continued, "A child clinging to the idea that your life meant something. You were useless to this world, to your brother, to the Advent. Your only value was in how long you could entertain me."
"And you weren't even good at that."
With that, it ripped its arm back out, tearing through Kaelix's back with a sickening crunch. Kaelix's body was limp, twitching as blood trailed from his lips like broken ink lines.
He fell.
Crashing through the battered stage, his body slammed into the fractured stone below, splintering the ground on impact. Debris scattered, and his form lay still in the dust.
The entity didn't even look down.
It turned away. Its gaze, directed to more important things.
The entity hovered in the air, its monstrous form still as a statue, casting a warped shadow across the broken arena.
It stared down at the Tome in its hand—once a vessel overflowing with cascading Runes, an ever-churning sea of forbidden truths and ancient integrations.
Now?
Lifeless.
The pages no longer pulsed with light. No symbols danced across its open face. It was just… a book. Ordinary, in the most insulting sense of the word.
With an exhale that sounded more like wind sweeping through hollow caverns, the entity shut the Tome with a quiet thud. It ran one clawed finger across its cover—almost reverently—then, without another word, let it fall.
The Tome spiraled through the air like a fallen leaf, arcing downward until it crashed into the fractured ground with a dull, final thud.
It was no longer needed.
The entity glanced down at its body. The armored limbs. The pulsating, bone-carved musculature. The inhuman plating that grew like fossilized coral across its shoulders. This vessel was stable now. Durable. Sharp.
But flawed.
"Tch," it muttered in Nick's voice, laced with irritation. "No capacity for Rune containment."
It flexed its clawed hand, feeling the weight of it, the limits.
"I wasted so many Lorerunes shaping this flesh into something 'worthy.' And for what? A brute's body. A beast's shell."
If the boy's body had even the faintest ability to store Runes naturally, the integration would've been complete days ago. But no—he had chosen a vessel without potential. A reject even at birth. But there had been no alternative. It had taken what was available.
At least it hadn't chosen the anomaly. That one would have taken centuries to complete.
The entity's gaze turned outward now—past the Advent's sky, toward the edge of its metaphysical boundary. Toward the protectors who lingered just beyond, watching, waiting. But only one of them truly drew its attention. That odd presence, the one it couldn't place. Something that disrupted instinct.
"No matter," it whispered. "I'll deal with them soon enough."
It turned to go—but then—
A pause.
A thought.
"Wait. Why… why did I leave the boy alive?"
Its voice was soft. Curious. Almost amused.
He was right there. Broken. Bleeding out. It could've claimed his Lorerunes, added them to the whole. Even if meager, every step toward Promotion counted. So why…?
Why hadn't it?
The entity went still.
"No. I understand. Look how easily he fell. Pathetic. There's nothing to be gained from killing worms."
But the thought lingered. Festered.
A newborn like it should not have hubris. That was for the elder ones. And yet… it had acted with assumption, with arrogance. Instincts flared. Alarm bells stirred in its mind. Something was… off.
Tampered with.
It blinked once, then slowly, grimly nodded to itself.
"The brother… remnants of the brother still linger within me."
How?
The integration had consumed him.
Yet here it was—residue in the soul. A splinter of identity. A virus. First, the older brother refused to fully break down. Now, the younger one was interfering through sheer will?
"What is wrong with these two?" the entity hissed.
Then suddenly.
It turned sharply toward the distant horizon—and felt it.
A change.
A stirring.
Where the protectors were. That odd presence again. It flared like a beacon of threat. Not enough to instill fear… but enough to demand attention.
Was it going to attack?
The entity's gaze sharpened.
***************
Meanwhile,
Below, in the crater, Kaelix still lived.
Blood flooded his throat. He coughed violently, each spasm weaker than the last. His arms shook uncontrollably. A jagged hole gaped through his chest, red blood still pumping out in slower, wheezing spurts.
Everything hurt.
Not in the immediate way—but in the final kind of way. His nerves had begun to shut down. His muscles were locked in semi-spasms. His vision darkened at the edges like burnt paper curling inward.
He tried to move.
He couldn't.
His fingers twitched. That was all.
"Move, dammit…"
No response.
"I'm not done…!"
Still nothing.
His mind raced—desperate, unravelling.
I fought through everything. I denied the change. I bled myself for power. I clawed my way through these monsters—And this is what I get?
No flash of destiny? No awakening? No hidden spark waiting at the end?
A cough wracked him. Blood spilled down his chin.
What is this bullshit?
His arms trembled as he tried to push himself up again. He collapsed instantly.
Is this not the part… where the hero finds the strength?
Where the theme song plays and the light burns from within?
So why… why isn't it happening?
Then a thought, bitter and sharp:
Maybe because I'm not the hero.
He went still.
He hated that thought.
He refused it.
I don't care what I am. Hero. Villain. Background extra.
If I die, I'll crawl back up as an Undead and tear that bastard apart with my teeth.
I'm not done. I'm never done.
Thud.
A sound. Heavy. Final. Near.
Kaelix flinched. Slowly—painfully—he craned his head toward the noise.
There it was.
The Tome.
Lying not far from him. Slightly cracked. Mute. Plain.
He stared at it.
A whisper of a thought.
The Advent came from it… maybe… maybe there's still something left.
With a groan that sounded more like death than life, Kaelix dragged one arm forward, barely.
Then another.
Crawling.
Every movement felt like the worst marathon.
He was leaving a trail of blood behind him, smeared across the broken stone like a signature. His fingers dug into the ground with nails cracked and skin flayed, dragging his broken body toward that silent book.
Inches. Then centimeters.
Finally, he touched it.
His hand slapped weakly against the Tome's surface, coating it in blood. His other hand reached up and tore it toward him. He held it against his chest like a dying man clinging to warmth.
"Come on… show me something…"
He opened the cover. Pages turned under his shaking fingers. His blood smeared across the text.
Nothing.
Just empty paper.
No Runes. No voice. No message.
Kaelix's head fell forward, resting against the pages.
"Please… give me something… you started all this..."
Still nothing.
He growled through clenched teeth, blood trickling from his lips.
"I'm not… dying here. Not like this. You hear me?!"
Silence.
But Kaelix didn't stop. He 'tore' the book open wider, flipping page after page, dragging his fingers through it as if he could will something to appear.
Kaelix lay in silence.
His body trembled with the effort of simply existing. His hands—bloodied and broken—still clutched the Tome. No words came from it. No guidance. Just empty pages, soaked now in his blood, curling slightly from the damp warmth of his dying body.
He tilted his head with effort—his neck crackling—and looked up.
There it was.
That thing.
That monster.
Floating above the wrecked remains of the arena, its shape cast in fractured light, bone-plated and plated in a cruel mimicry of Nick's body.
His brother's eyes.
His brother's hair.
His brother's voice.
Even the way it breathed.
It made Kaelix sick.
You bastard... you don't get to wear his face.
His jaw clenched. Teeth grinding.
He knew what Nick would've said, had he seen himself now. Had he seen what his death gave birth to. But it didn't matter what his brother would've wanted.
What mattered was what he needed.
You always tried too hard, Nick. You always wanted to follow your brother, despite how stupid it was. Always jumped into things too fast. You were chasing after me so... And I always chose to lead you, didn't I?
There was no pride in that. Just bitterness.
Because I thought if I kept you with me, maybe one day... I'd find how we mattered. Maybe we'd both find our worth.
Now this thing was wearing his brother's corpse like a trophy—and Kaelix... Kaelix wasn't going to let that fester.
I'll bury you with my own hands before I let you become something worse than forgotten.
His body spasmed.
A sharp pain lanced through his lungs. He coughed, hard—and a thick, wet wad of blood spilled from his mouth, splattering the open pages of the Tome.
The blood soaked into the paper.
And still... the book remained silent.
His vision flickered.
He was fading again.
But then, somewhere inside that failing mind—a thought sparked.
A desperate thought.
If I can't beat it as an Adversary... then maybe... maybe I should stop thinking like one.