The room was dimly lit, with flickering torches casting dancing shadows across the stone walls. At the center, atop a grand, ancient throne, sat the Messiah. His figure was imposing, even as his body seemed to wither with age. His face, a tapestry of deep wrinkles and sunken features, was framed by a dark hood, the edges of which were embroidered with ancient symbols. His hands, thin and bony, rested on the arms of the throne, fingers tapping rhythmically as if counting down to some inevitable event.
"Looks like the Darkened One is near," the Messiah muttered to himself, his voice a raspy whisper that echoed in the cavernous space.
A swirl of shadows coalesced in the center of the room, and from it emerged Astran, her presence as ethereal as ever. Her eyes glowed with a faint, otherworldly light as she regarded the ancient figure on the throne.
"Yes, Messiah," Astran confirmed, her voice soft yet filled with a note of reverence. "It is."
The Messiah's hollow eyes narrowed as he leaned forward slightly. "Have you successfully merged your other half with Neato?"
Astran nodded, a small, satisfied smile curling at the corners of her lips. "Yes, I have."
"Good," the Messiah replied, his voice tinged with satisfaction. "That means all I have to do is wait."
Astran hesitated, her usually calm demeanor wavering. "Messiah, I am concerned."
The Messiah's gaze snapped to her, his expression darkening. "Concerned? About who?"
"You, Messiah," Astran responded, her tone more insistent than before. "While looking through Neato's memories, I found out that he is immortal."
The Messiah's eyes flashed with a dangerous light, and he interrupted her with a cold, sharp tone. "That is what makes him special. If I am able to consume him and we become one, I will achieve true immortality. I have lived for more than 230 years, and my current state of immortality is waning. That is why I need him."
Astran watched him carefully, noting the thinly veiled desperation in his voice. "But—"
"No more buts, Astran!" The Messiah's voice thundered, silencing her. His breathing was labored, the effort of his outburst apparent. "This is my destiny. I will not allow it to be derailed by your doubts."
Astran remained silent, but the concern did not leave her eyes. She knew better than to argue further. Instead, she chose her next words carefully, "He is here, Messiah."
The Messiah leaned back in his throne, a slow smile spreading across his lips. "Then it begins."
The scene shifted, leaving the dimly lit room behind, and focused on Neato. He stood before a massive pyramid, its stone surface worn by the sands of time yet still imposing in its grandeur. The air around him was thick with an unnatural tension, the kind that pressed down on his chest and made each breath feel heavier. His new form, a grotesque and twisted version of what he once was, seemed to pulse with dark energy.
He stared up at the pyramid, the structure looming over him like a silent guardian of secrets long forgotten. The air was filled with a low hum, almost like a heartbeat, resonating with the malevolent force that lay within its ancient walls.
Neato's eyes—if they could still be called that—narrowed as he took a step forward, his voice a low, menacing whisper, "I am hope."
And with that, he began his ascent towards the pyramid's entrance, the weight of destiny pressing down on his shoulders, as the chapter ended
END OF CHAPTER 38