"All done," Para announced with satisfaction, her fingers lingering on Orach's newly styled hair. A wry smile played on Orach's lips, a mix of gratitude and mild embarrassment at being fussed over like a child again.
Para gracefully moved to the other side of the manifested table, settling into a seat with an air of purpose. "Now, young master," she began, her tone shifting to one of gravity, "it's time we address the matters at hand."
Orach's expression immediately sobered, matching the seriousness in Para's voice. Noting the change, she gave a small nod of approval before continuing.
"My loyalty to you, young master, is unwavering. You have my acknowledgment and the power of this dragon at your disposal. However," she paused, her eyes holding a hint of concern, "the others may not be so easily swayed. They harbor resentment, and in some ways, it's justified. You'll face quite a challenge when you enter the domains of the other dragons."
Para leaned forward, her voice dropping to a near whisper. "While I wish we had more time to talk like this, I can't risk you staying in the Void realm any longer than necessary. So, before I send you out, I'm going to teach you a technique – the very one you once threw a tantrum to learn when you were young."
Orach's eyes widened, a cocktail of shock and anticipation washing over his features. He knew exactly which technique Para was referring to – a memory from his youth flashed before his eyes. A heated argument between Para and Frisee, escalating into a spar that had left young Orach in awe. Despite Frisee's superior cultivation, Para had held her ground, matching her opponent move for move with this mysterious technique.
Seeing the play of emotions across Orach's face, Para let out a soft sigh. "I can see the wheels turning in your head, young master. Truth be told, I'm hesitant to teach you this. Even for long-lived cultivators like us, it comes with... significant drawbacks." Her expression hardened with resolve. "But time is of the essence. The faster you defeat the others and conquer the dragons, the sooner you can awaken your true power and form. And most importantly," she added, her voice tinged with urgency, "the sooner you can escape this realm."
Para's eyes met Orach's, conveying the gravity of her next words. "You must understand, young master. There's a reason the Void realm is called the graveyard of the gods. Every moment you linger here puts you at greater risk. So, are you prepared to learn this technique, young master?"
Orach nodded with determination. "I'm ready, Para. This technique—it's your Dragon's Ascension, isn't it?"
Para took a deep breath before speaking. "The technique's true name is called…Golden Oozaru's Ascension."
Upon hearing its name, Orach stood up, shock etched across his features. "Para," he exclaimed, his voice a mix of awe and disbelief, "you can't be serious. Are you saying... you tap into that berserk energy? How do you maintain control?"
Para's expression grew complex. "The name was a dead giveaway, wasn't it?" she said with a wry smile. "That's why, under your mother's orders, I changed it to 'Dragon's Ascension' when speaking of it to others. I claimed to have learned it in another realm related to the dragon race. It's also why your mother immediately took me under her wing. She recognized my origins when I first met her and fought using this technique."
She paused, her gaze distant as if looking into the past. "young master, the truth is that, I am the descendant of that very ancestor who vanished from the annals of history. The one who managed to recover his sanity and form after becoming a Great Oozaru. The truth is... he couldn't bear the weight of the destruction he caused, nor the shame of nearly killing his kin after regaining his sanity. So he chose to disappear, taking his family and his bloodline into exile."
Para's eyes refocused on Orach, filled with a mixture of reverence and sadness. "Later, as our bloodline made a home on a remote planet as time passed, we faced new threats. It was then that my ancestor developed this technique. It was born from his understanding of the Great Oozaru form, a way to harness its power without succumbing to its madness. Young master, do you remember when you once asked me if there was a form beyond Super Saiyan 3? Well, today I shall answer you... yes there is. What my ancestor achieved after his ordeal... was Super Saiyan 4."
Orach took a step back in shock, he had always wondered, if Super Saiyan 3 that his father spoke about was the pinnacle of their bloodline potential but, now hearing this tale, suddenly made his blood rage and boil. While there was tinge of fear of loosing control, there was also, excitement of achieving a new level of power. Suddenly he remember Victor's mother box's future vision, a great Oozaru appears in that lower realm…at first he dismissed the possibility of him ever loosing control like that, but, now he saw the possibility of changing into one if it meant achieving that form a form that none expect one had achieved.
Seeing the excitement blazing in his eyes, Para's expression grew grave. "Young Master," she warned, her voice stern, "I don't want you to pursue this form if it can be avoided. It's incredibly dangerous. Once you transform into a Great Oozaru, you WILL lose your sanity. You'll lose yourself in that power, and you might harm someone innocent, even someone you love." Her eyes softened slightly. "And remember, you already walk the path of God Ki cultivation and after you conquer us, the power you would gain will far surpass what you'll be able to get from your father's bloodline. So please, promise me you'll avoid this unless absolutely necessary."
Startled by the stern warning, Orach's excitement cooled. He realized the gravity of the situation and nodded solemnly. "You have my word, Para. Unless it becomes absolutely necessary or if I lose control, I won't try to pursue this form."
Para studied him for a long moment, her eyes searching his for any hint of deception. Finally, she nodded, a small smile tugging at the corners of her mouth. "Very well. I trust you, young master. And remember, I'll be with you every step of the way, guiding you through whatever challenges lie ahead."
Her voice took on a gentler tone as she continued, "Now, let's focus on the technique itself. The Golden Oozaru's Ascension is a power unlike any other. It multiplies your Ki exponentially, if only for a brief moment. Your aura will blaze a brilliant crimson, a testament to the raw power coursing through your veins. This surge will amplify your strength and speed dramatically, allowing you to overcome foes who would otherwise be far beyond your reach."
Para's expression grew grave once more. "However, young master, this power comes at a great cost. The strain on your body is immense. If not controlled with absolute precision, it can cause severe damage, or worse... it could shorten your lifespan significantly. Mastery of Ki control is essential to wield this power effectively."
Orach listened intently, after a moment of contemplation, he spoke with unwavering determination. "I understand the risks, Para. But if this power can help me overcome the trials ahead and escape this realm, I'm willing to take that chance. I'm ready to begin."
Para's eyes gleamed with a mixture of pride, concern, and resignation as she nodded. "Very well, young master. Let us begin." With a graceful wave of her hands, the domain responded to her will. A circular platform materialized near the gazebo, causing massive waves to ripple across the lake's surface.
"Take your position at the center," Para instructed, gesturing towards the newly formed structure. "Sit cross-legged and prepare yourself."
Orach complied, his movements fluid as he flew to the platform's heart. Settling into a meditative pose, he awaited further guidance. Para's voice rang out, clear and resolute: "Remember, young master, the key to this technique is balance—a delicate dance between unleashing your power and maintaining unwavering control."
Materializing beside him, Para's voice softened to a soothing whisper. "Close your eyes and center yourself, Orach. Your inner realm is intrinsically linked to your soul and physical form. This connection allows you to summon the power of your bloodline, even in this ethereal space."
Orach's face became a mask of concentration as he complied. Para continued, her tone measured and calm. "Visualize the ancient power coursing through your veins—a tempestuous ocean barely contained beneath a calm surface. Gradually, allow that energy to swell and rise. But be cautious—don't unleash it all at once. Let your mind be the limiter, the anchor that keeps you tethered to reality as you tap into this primal energy. This way, you can control the amplification factor. You must become the master of this force, guiding its flow with utmost precision."
As Para spoke, a faint crimson aura began to flicker around Orach's form, casting an otherworldly glow across the platform. "That's it, young master," she encouraged, her voice tinged with excitement. "Now, push further. Your challenge is to channel this power without breaking yourself in the process."
As Orach channeled the power, the crimson aura intensified, pulsing like a living, hungry entity. His muscles tensed visibly, veins bulging on his forehead as he wrestled with the surging energy within. Beneath his feet, the platform began to crack, tiny fissures spider-webbing outward from his seated form. Para watched intently, her brow furrowed in concentration, poised to intervene at the slightest sign of danger.
"Now," she commanded, her voice sharp and clear, "release a fraction of that power. Just a taste."
Orach's eyes snapped open, his teeth clenched as his aura pulsed violently. Then, with a primal roar that seemed to shake the very foundations of the domain, he unleashed a blast of highly concentrated crimson Ki. The energy erupted from his being in a dazzling display of raw power.
Para's eyes widened as she observed the aftermath. The aura stabilized, but something was amiss. It wasn't the pure crimson she had expected—there were unmistakable tinges of green swirling within. A chill ran down her spine as tales of the ancient Saiyans flashed through her mind.
"It can't be," she murmured, taking an involuntary step back. "Atavism? The young master's bloodline... No, what have I done?" The dangerous possibility loomed in her thoughts, threatening to overshadow their progress.
As the dust settled, Orach stumbled, his breath coming in ragged gasps. Para materialized at his side in an instant, steadying him with a firm grip. Her eyes, a swirl of pride and concern, locked onto his.
"Impressive, young master," she said, her voice a mixture of awe and apprehension. "For a first attempt, that was... extraordinary. With practice, you'll harness this power with greater finesse and longevity."
Orach's entire being thrummed with newfound energy. His voice, tinged with exhilaration and a hint of strain, rang out, "This... this is incredible, Para. It's taxing, yes, but the potential..." His eyes gleamed with possibility. "Combined with my God forms or Super Saiyan transformations, this could be the edge I need in a dire situation."
As he spoke, unbidden thoughts of the three-headed dragon that had torn his leg surfaced. A primal urge for retribution surged through him. 'After I conquer these dragons and before I leave this realm, I'm coming for you, you overgrown lizard. I'll tear off at least one of your heads as a parting gift.' The thought blazed in his mind, feeding the fire of his power.
Unbeknownst to Orach, his aura began to shift. Crimson aura intertwined with tendrils of emerald, a sight that sent a chill down Para's spine. Her eyes widened in alarm as she recognized the telltale signs of impending loss of control.
"YOUNG MASTER! CEASE THIS AT ONCE!" Para's shout cut through the air, laced with urgency and fear. But Orach, lost in the intoxicating rush of power and vengeance, barely registered her words.
Para's mind raced. She had to act fast or risk losing Orach to the very power she had taught him to harness. With lightning speed, she placed her hands on Orach's shoulders, channeling her own energy to create a stabilizing buffer.
"Focus, Orach," she commanded, her voice stern yet soothing. "Remember the balance we spoke of. Your mind must be the anchor. Find your center."
For a heart-stopping moment, Orach's aura continued to fluctuate wildly. Then, slowly, his breathing steadied. The green hues in his aura began to recede, leaving behind a purer crimson glow. His eyes, which had been glazed over with rage, cleared, focusing on Para's worried face.
"I... I'm sorry, Para," he whispered, the realization of how close he'd come to losing control dawning on him. "I didn't mean to..."
Para's expression softened. "It's alright, young master. This is why we train. Control comes with time and practice. Plus its understandable. You have already spent what feels like eons in the Void realm, its taken a toll on you." She helped him to his feet. "Let's continue, but this time, we'll focus on maintaining your mental clarity while channeling the power. Remember, the technique is as much about restraint as it is about unleashing your potential."
Orach nodded, his expression resolute. "I let my thoughts wander, clouding my focus. It won't happen again."
Over the next few hours, Orach and Para worked tirelessly. They practiced channeling the power in controlled bursts, always mindful of the delicate balance between power and sanity. With each attempt, Orach's control improved, his aura maintaining a steady crimson without the dangerous green tinges. In the later stages of his training, he called forth his God forms and combined them with this technique. The resulting power was overwhelming yet exhilarating, pushing Orach to new heights of strength and control.
As the training session drew to a close, Para nodded with satisfaction. "You've made remarkable progress, young master. Your control has improved significantly. However," she added, her tone turning serious, "always remember the risks. This power is a double-edged sword. Use it wisely, and only when absolutely necessary."
With a final nod of approval, Para smiled and began the process of sending Orach to his next challenge. A ripple in space opened a portal, soon engulfing Orach. As the world around him began to shift and blur, Orach steeled himself for whatever lay ahead. With his newfound power, he felt prepared to face any obstacle in his path.
As Orach's form faded from view, disappearing to face his next trial, Para's expression grew grave. Her eyes, usually warm and encouraging, now held a shadow of deep concern. "To think," she murmured to herself, her voice barely above a whisper, "to think his bloodline would show signs of atavism. Could it be the Void realm's influence? Or perhaps that mysterious new power in his inner realm? Is it possible that this new power is refining his bloodline, bringing forth traits long dormant?"
Para's mind raced with possibilities, each more troubling than the last. "The Saiyans of old," she continued, her voice heavy with the weight of ancient history, "before they discovered God Ki, before they became the protectors of life... they were savages, monsters of destruction that brought entire civilizations to their knees." She shook her head, a shiver running down her spine at the thought.
"Young master," Para whispered into the empty space where Orach had stood moments before, "you must be careful. The power your bloodline holds... it's far more dangerous than you know. It's a legacy of both greatness and terrible destruction."
Second Dragon Domain - Domain of the Guardian Dragon
Orach found himself falling through a realm bathed in ethereal violet light. As he descended, a breathtaking panorama unfolded beneath him - an endless expanse of mountains and rivers, interspersed with gravity-defying floating islands. Cascading waterfalls tumbled from these suspended landmasses, their waters shimmering as they joined the landscape below. The familiar purple hue of the sky stirred a memory within him, and a knowing smirk tugged at the corners of his mouth. There was no mistaking whose domain he had entered.
A thunderous roar shattered the serenity, confirming Orach's suspicions. His body tensed, senses sharpening as he detected the incoming attack. Spinning mid-air, he caught sight of an enormous maw hurtling towards him—jaws agape, ready to swallow him whole.
"Hey, Aeloria," Orach called out, his voice a mix of fondness and resignation. "Been a while." With a mere thought, he tapped into his space laws, vanishing from sight just as the giant green dragon's jaws snapped shut where he had been moments before.
The dragon's eyes flashed with fury. "You dare?!" Aeloria's voice boomed, shaking the very air around them. "You bastard!" With a mighty roar, she summoned the elements to her will. The sky churned ominously, gathering lightning that crackled with raw power before striking out at Orach.
As the lightning surged towards him, Orach's expression turned solemn. Upon entering this realm, he'd immediately sensed the restrictions on his abilities. Normally, such restrictions would leave him at the dragon's mercy. But now, something had changed. Orach tapped into his evolved understanding of space laws. The white tree from the Void realm had transformed him, intertwining his mastery over primordial laws of space with an enigmatic new element—the primordial law of void.
With a wave of his hand, Orach opened multiple ripples in space, effortlessly absorbing Aeloria's lightning strikes. In a display of mastery that defied the domain's restrictions, he redirected the attacks through spatial rifts behind the dragon, catching her off guard.
AAAARRRGGGHHH! The agonized cry echoed across the realm as Aeloria writhed in pain, her own lightning coursing through her massive form.
"How?" she snarled, disbelief etched in every scale. "How are you using laws here? This is my domain. I put restrictions on you!"
Orach's eyes softened as he gazed at his old friend and comrade. "Aeloria Fernwraith," he began, his voice gentle yet firm. "We don't need to do this. Even with your restrictions, I won't lose. But I guess I won't win either." He paused, searching her eyes, seeing the tumult of emotions swirling within - hurt, sadness, and anger intertwined.
"We're friends, Aeloria. We fought side by side. I know I've let you down, let everyone down. I've changed, yes. But after everything we've been through, how could I not?" His voice cracked slightly. "My naiveté cost so many lives during the war. Even... your broth-"
Before he could finish, Aeloria's roar cut through the air, raw with emotion. "SHUT UP! Don't you dare bring my brother into this!" A blinding white light enveloped her form, and where once stood a mighty dragon, now stood a breathtakingly beautiful woman. Emerald eyes flashed with barely contained fury, framed by long, raven hair. Her white form-fitting armor accentuated her curves, while high-heeled boots completed her warrior's attire.
Aeloria's voice was cold, each word sharp as a blade. "He loved you, Orach. He sacrificed himself believing in you. Yes, you were naive, and I'm glad you grew cautious. But that's not why I'm angry." Her eyes bore into him, challenging, accusing. "You want know why, you jackass. You changed too much."
She paced, her movements fluid yet tense. "It's one thing to be cautious. We all saw the darkness in the lower realms during the war. Those who sold out their own kind for profit - disgusting!" Her face contorted with rage at the memory. "But you... you shouldn't have given up on helping the lower realms altogether!"
Aeloria's voice softened, a hint of the old warmth seeping through. Her emerald eyes, once blazing with fury, now shimmered with a complex mix of emotions. "Orach, there are still beings out there like little Shin. Countless souls, toiling each day, their prayers ascending to deaf gods who either ignore their pleas or, worse, revel in their suffering."
She took a step closer, her eyes gleaming with renewed intensity. "I despised your naiveté, but my brother and I... we cherished your heart. We believed in your vision, in what you were striving to achieve."
Her next words came as a whisper, laden with years of pent-up emotion. "Be honest with me, Orach. If fate had been kinder, if the corrupted hadn't ignited that last war, if you hadn't been wounded and cast into that lower realm... if your modified pod experiments had come to fruition... what path would you have chosen? Would you have merely explored, or would you have extended your hand to those truly deserving of your kindness and aid in the lower realms?" Her voice rose, a crescendo of desperation and hope. "Tell me, Orach. I need to know!"
Orach stood motionless, the weight of Aeloria's words pressing upon him like an invisible force. He closed his eyes, and in that moment, a torrent of memories cascaded through his mind—triumphs and failures, joys and sorrows, all intricately woven into the tapestry of their shared past. When his eyes reopened, they met Aeloria's gaze unflinchingly, a maelstrom of emotions swirling within their depths.
"The truth?" he began, his voice low and steady, resonating with the weight of countless years. "If none of that had transpired, yes, I would have explored. But Aeloria, I would have helped too." He paused, carefully selecting his next words. "Not blindly or indiscriminately as I might have once done, but with purpose and discernment. To those who truly deserved it, who demonstrated the potential to grow, to better themselves and others."
Aeloria's eyes widened, hope and doubt battling across her features. "Then why..." she began, but Orach gently raised a hand, silencing her.
"The war changed me, Aeloria. It changed all of us," he continued, his voice tinged with a mixture of regret and hard-earned wisdom. "I witnessed the depths of cruelty and the pinnacles of sacrifice. I learned the harsh lesson that good intentions alone are insufficient. That sometimes, our efforts to help can inadvertently cause more harm than good." His voice softened, heavy with the burden of his choices. "I retreated inward, fixating on survival and power. I believed I was protecting myself and those I care about from the consequences of my mistakes. But in doing so, I now realize I lost sight of the very reason we fought in the first place."
Aeloria's breath caught in her throat, a single tear tracing a silvery path down her cheek. "Then your heart... it's not truly dead?" she asked, her voice barely above a whisper, fragile hope hanging on every word.
Orach stepped forward, closing the distance between them. His eyes, once cold and distant, now held a spark of warmth. "My heart isn't dead, Aeloria," he said, his voice steady and sure. "It's been battered and silent, yes. Guarded, without a doubt. But never truly gone." A small smile tugged at his lips. "My daughter... she's awakened something in me I thought long lost."
He pressed a hand to his chest, the gesture achingly familiar. "You're all still here," he continued softly. "You, your brother, our old crew. Memories I've carried through every trial, every dark moment. You've shaped me, all of you. And now, perhaps, it's time to honor that legacy."
A soft smile touched Aeloria's lips, her eyes shimmering with renewed hope. "Those words... I never thought I'd hear them again," she murmured, a hint of her old warmth returning. "It seems I owe your daughter, my niece, a debt of gratitude for rekindling that spark in you."
Orach's features softened, a glimpse of his former self emerging from beneath the hardened exterior. "She's quite something, my little girl," he said, his voice tinged with unmistakable pride. His expression then grew solemn, yet a new light gleamed in his eyes. "I can't promise to be who I once was—that naïve boy is long gone. But perhaps... perhaps it's time I found a balance. To help, but wisely. To care, but not blind to the complexities of the lower realms."
Aeloria nodded, hope blooming in her eyes like the first rays of dawn after a long night. "It won't be easy," she warned, her voice carrying the weight of their shared experiences. "I've glimpsed that lower realm. It teeters on the brink of becoming a lost realm. I see the same greed and selfishness in its people that we encountered before."
"The best endeavors never are easy," Orach replied, a new determination in his voice. "I'm aware of the challenges. While there are those who embody the worst of mortal nature, there are still individuals who kindle hope. I want to believe in them, Aeloria. I can support them, guide them towards a better path."
Aeloria's expression turned skeptical. "Guide them? Do you truly believe they'll listen? They revere that misguided, naïve fool as their savior. While your wife, my sister-in-law, shows promise, I have little faith in the rest. Wouldn't it be wiser to ascend with your family and leave that realm behind?"
Orach sighed heavily, his eyes mirroring the complexity of his dilemma. "Believe me, I long to leave with them as soon as possible. But a hasty departure could prove catastrophic. Rachel might adapt, but Diana..." He paused, his voice tinged with concern. "She could develop inner demons if I force her to suddenly abandon her birthplace. And there's more at stake. That fool's lineage is inexorably linked with the Tuffles. The entire realm is teeters on the brink of annihilation. I can't imagine Diana standing idly by while the alliance lays waste to her home world."
A contemplative silence fell between them, the air heavy with unspoken thoughts. Aeloria's face betrayed a mix of emotions, as if wrestling with a weighty decision.
Orach's eyes narrowed, his keen perception catching the shift in her demeanor. "What do you know, Aeloria?" he asked, his voice gentle but probing.
Startled at being so easily read, Aeloria sighed, her resolve crumbling. "There might be another way," she began hesitantly. "Do you recall our studies on 'Prime' lower realms?"
Orach's brow furrowed in momentary confusion. "Prime lower realms? Yes, I remember our studies, but..."His eyes suddenly widened, a spark of realization igniting within them. "Aeloria, you can't mean—" He paused, the full implication of her words dawning on him. "Are you suggesting that my family's realm—that lower realm—is actually a prime lower realm?"
Aeloria nodded solemnly. "Indeed. Among the lower realms under the jurisdiction of the dragon clan, there are several prime lower realms. Both my brother and I have traversed one. I felt the unmistakable presence of the anchor stone in the lower realm where your wife and daughter reside." Her voice lowered, taking on a conspiratorial tone. "I propose we appropriate that realm's stone and integrate it into your inner realm. This way, the realm becomes an extension of you, and your wife can find peace."
As the gravity of this revelation sank in, a transformation came over Orach. His expression shifted, a cunning and almost predatory smile spreading across his face.
"Well, well," Orach mused, his voice taking on a dangerous edge. "It was his creation that thrust me into the Void realm. I'd say this creation god has some karmic debt to pay." His smile widened, a mix of anticipation and something darker. "I like your idea, Aeloria. Once I return, I'll seek out the stone. But I won't claim it for myself. No, I have grander plans. I'll guide my daughter to fuse it with her inner realm. She'll ascend as that realm's new deity."
Aeloria felt a shiver run through her, goosebumps rising on her skin as she witnessed the return of that eerily familiar smile. It was a stark reminder of the duality within Orach - the kindness she had known, but also the capacity for ruthless action when provoked. She recalled with vivid clarity how Orach had once plunged an entire world into a nightmarish hellscape, retribution for the inhabitants' true, despicable nature being revealed. Now, seeing that smile again, she found herself pitying the unsuspecting god of creation in that lower realm.
Noticing Aeloria's complex expression—a mixture of fear and concern—Orach's features softened. He retreated from the brink of his darker thoughts, his voice regaining some of its earlier warmth. "I appreciate your suggestion, Aeloria. This could be the key to my daughter's ascension and, perhaps, to finding that balance we discussed. Thank you."
Aeloria took a deep breath, her emerald eyes softening as she gazed at Orach. A mix of emotions played across her face - concern, hope, and a touch of the old camaraderie they once shared. "Very well," she said, her voice a blend of determination and warmth. "We'll be watching, Orach. All of us. Show us that the man we believed in still exists beneath those scars."
With a graceful wave of her hand, she conjured a swirling portal of iridescent energy. The air crackled with power, sending shivers down Orach's spine. "You have my acknowledgment and this dragon's power," Aeloria continued, her words carrying the weight of ancient power. "Now go. Face your next trial, and remember what we've discussed here."
Before Orach could respond, an invisible force seized him, propelling him towards the shimmering vortex. As he hurtled through the portal, Aeloria's final words echoed in his mind: "Don't disappoint us this time, old friend."
The portal closed behind him with a thunderous clap, leaving Aeloria alone in her realm. She stood there for a long moment, her gaze fixed on the spot where Orach had vanished. A complex mix of hope and apprehension swirled in her heart. "May the primordial gods guide you, Orach," she whispered to the empty air. "For all our sakes."
Third Dragon - Domain of the Lone Survivor
As Orach stepped through the portal, he found himself on a lush mountainside, the air crisp and invigorating. A solitary tree stood sentinel at the summit, its branches reaching towards an azure sky dotted with clouds that seemed to dance in shapes reminiscent of Earth. A sense of familiarity tugged at his heart, a bittersweet reminder of worlds long lost.
Curiosity piqued, Orach ascended the mountain, each step bringing him closer to the enigmatic tree that seemed to beckon him forward. As he reached the peak, a breathtaking sight unfolded before him.
An ancient city sprawled below, a mesmerizing blend of pagodas and spires piercing the sky. Wide boulevards and winding alleyways wove through the urban tapestry, connecting districts that hinted at a once-vibrant civilization. The city walls, adorned with statues of ancient warriors, stood as silent guardians. Something about the place tugged at Orach's memory—a nagging sense of déjà vu he couldn't quite place.
With no sign of the domain's master, Orach took to the air, his form gracefully descending towards the imposing city gates. As he landed, the intricate yet primitive designs of the walls and statues stirred something deep within him. The clothing and weapons of the stone sentinels whispered of a forgotten time, but the memory danced just out of reach. Seeing the gates standing wide open, Orach understood the implicit invitation from his old friend and comrade. With a deep breath, he stepped into the city.
The silence that enveloped him was absolute, oppressive in its totality. His footsteps echoed off empty streets, the sound amplified in the absence of life. The eerie stillness sent a chill down Orach's spine, a stark reminder of the countless worlds he had seen fall to ruin.
As he traversed the wide boulevards, Orach's keen eyes scanned for any signs of life, any clue to unravel the mystery of this hauntingly familiar place. The city stood frozen in time, as if its inhabitants had vanished in the blink of an eye. Market stalls lay abandoned, their wares nothing more than dust and memories.
The deeper Orach ventured, the more the silence seemed to press in on him. No birds sang, no insects buzzed – the very air felt stagnant, untouched by the breath of living things. As he approached the central square, a surprising sight greeted him: an ornate fountain, its waters flowing in defiance of the desolation around it. The tranquil scene stood in stark contrast to the unsettling atmosphere, a small oasis of life in a desert of abandonment.
Standing before the fountain, Orach closed his eyes, allowing the gentle sound of flowing water to wash over him. He sifted through his memories, piecing together the fragments of familiarity that had been nagging at him since his arrival. As realization dawned, his eyes snapped open, now filled with a potent mixture of sadness and shame. He knew this place, and more importantly, he knew whose domain he had entered.
"Hey, Ragnar," Orach said softly, sensing a presence materialize behind him. "Long time no see."
"Hello, young master," replied the figure, his voice a mixture of warmth and melancholy. "It truly has been a long time." Ragnar – the comrade who had lost everything: his world, his realm, and ultimately his life in unwavering belief in Orach – now stood before him once more.
Without turning, Orach asked, "Is this a replica of your city? Your birthplace?"
Ragnar moved to stand beside his young master, a sad smile playing on his lips. "Yes, young master. Do you like it?"
"The city is beautiful," Orach replied, his voice thick with emotion.
Ragnar's laugh was tinged with bittersweet joy. "It's good to see your kindness return. Thank you for the compliment. I know for someone of the higher realms like you, this city might seem primitive. But it was my home, the place I dreamed our crew would explore and help flourish." He gazed at the empty streets, his voice growing wistful. "I wish I could have shown you this city in its prime, teeming with life and culture. We may have been simple people, but our spirit was strong. Alas, we weren't powerful enough to prevent its destruction. Even with the dragon's power, all I could do was recreate this pale shadow of my home."
Orach's fists clenched at his sides, his head bowing under the weight of guilt and regret. "I'm sorry, old friend," he murmured. "I truly am sorry."
Ragnar turned to face Orach, his eyes filled with understanding. "My anger in those final days was misplaced, young master. I shouldn't have blamed you. It was never your fault, nor mine. The true culprits were those abominations, the Androids. And you, young master, you kept your promise. You destroyed the last of them, and for that, I am eternally grateful."
Without warning, Ragnar stepped forward and enveloped Orach in a tight embrace. "During the war, we were all blinded by your power. We forgot that beneath that strength, you were still so young. I apologize for that, young master. I apologize for all of us."
Orach returned the embrace, his shoulders sagging as he allowed himself a moment of vulnerability. When they parted, he looked at Ragnar with a mixture of gratitude and anguish in his eyes. "Your forgiveness... it means more than you could ever know, Ragnar. But the weight of all that was lost, it still haunts me. I can't forgive myself for being... weak. For failing to protect everyone."
His voice cracked as he continued, "And now, you and the others... you're trapped here, eternal wardens to my power. You should be free, experiencing new lives through reincarnation. How can I possibly move forward knowing I've denied you that peace?"
Ragnar's eyes softened, his compassion shining through. "Oh, young master," he said, shaking his head with a rueful smile, "for all your power, you can be remarkably dense sometimes. Listen closely, young master. No single being, no matter how extraordinary, can shoulder the weight of all realms. You were a prodigy, yes, but also just a child thrust into a war beyond imagining."
He continued, his voice growing passionate. "Despite your youth, with Zeta, you felled emperor-level Androids alongside our seasoned powerhouses—a feat that will echo through generations. The Androids, especially that True god-level monstrosity we faced, were enemies beyond our wildest nightmares. You didn't fail us, Orach. You gave us hope when all seemed lost. From saving entire lower realms from the fate that befell mine to that final battle against the True god-level Android, you were our beacon of light."
Ragnar's expression softened. "I'm grateful you found your wife and daughter. They can help you heal, share the burdens you insist on carrying alone. And us? Our choice to remain as your guardians wasn't a sacrifice – it's our highest honor. We believed in you then, through fire and ruin. We believe in you now, as you forge a path towards redemption. Even changed as you are, you remain the light the lower realms desperately need."
Ragnar placed a hand on Orach's shoulder, his touch firm and reassuring. "To truly free us and move forward, you must first conquer your inner demons. That, young master, is why you're here today. We all want to acknowledge you, to grant you access to your true power—power that's rightfully yours. But if the ghosts of your past continue to haunt you, this power could corrupt you."
As if responding to Ragnar's words, the city around them began to shift. The empty streets melted away, replaced by a massive colosseum that shimmered into existence at the heart of the phantom metropolis. The stands mostly empty, soon filled with the figures of his comrades all looking at him with interest.
Ragnar's voice took on a solemn tone. "Your trial awaits, Orach. Face the shadows of your past, confront the guilt that binds you. Prove that you possess not just the strength to fight, but the courage to forgive—yourself most of all."
Orach stepped into the arena, his heart pounding. At its center stood a perfect but darker mirror image of himself, eyes blazing with barely contained power. The doppelganger raised its fists, a challenge and an invitation.
"Remember," Ragnar called out as he took his place among the audience, "this isn't merely a test of might. It's a battle for your very soul."