Northbook Court Mall,
Northbook, Illinois,
Terra, Gaea Solar system,
Neutral Free zone,
March 27th 2019
Rex trudged slowly through Bravo Court, his footsteps growing heavier with each passing moment. The echoes of his battle with Patau still reverberated in his mind, his body pushed beyond its limits. His draconic force remained active, its fiery aura simmering around him—a decision that defied logic but was driven by necessity. Normally, Rex would have deactivated it immediately after a battle, knowing full well the perilous consequences of prolonged use. Yet, the restorative effects of the draconic force were something he couldn't forgo, not when his mana reserves were dangerously low.
The true danger wasn't just the strain of maintaining his draconic state—it was the precarious balance between his rational mind and the primal draconic instincts clawing at his consciousness. The line between man and beast blurred with every second he kept it active, his control slipping as his instincts threatened to overwhelm him. But Rex had no choice. His ability, Redshift, combined with his swordsmanship, was a double-edged sword—a dazzling display of precision and power, but one that demanded immense mental acuity and drained his Odic force to its dregs. The intricate mental calculations required to wield such techniques had left his mind battered, his reflexes dulled, and his reaction time nearly nonexistent. Each movement felt sluggish, and the pounding headaches were a cruel reminder of the cost of mastery. As he approached the path leading to Alpha Court, Rex staggered slightly, his legs wobbling under the weight of exhaustion. He gritted his teeth, knowing he could not sustain his draconic force any longer. The rejuvenation it provided was no longer worth the mounting risk—the primal erosion of his consciousness was a threat he could not afford to ignore.
With a deep, steadying breath, Rex dismissed the draconic force. The fiery aura that had engulfed him moments before flickered and vanished into nothingness, leaving only the faint scent of scorched air in its wake. A wave of relief washed over him, but it was accompanied by an acute sense of vulnerability. His body felt lighter, freed from the oppressive weight of the draconic power, but his Odic force and mana reserves were dangerously low, leaving him teetering on the brink of collapse. Despite the exhaustion, Rex's steps carried him resolutely toward Alpha Court. His resolve burned as fiercely as ever, even as his body and mind waged a silent rebellion against the toll he had exacted from them. Yet, the deeper toll wasn't just physical—it was the strain of mastering something he was still coming to understand.
Back in his Awakened phase, Rex could never have fought like this. The ability to wield Redshift with such finesse, or to execute the legendary Pendragon Sword Art, had been well beyond his reach. At that time, he had relied heavily on the Dancing Dragon style, a secondary sword art passed down through his family. It was a fluid and adaptive technique, one that complemented his more limited abilities in the Awakened phase. His ability factor back then was rudimentary—he could only manipulate objects with the red energy in a crude, telekinetic fashion. It was useful, but far from the refined power he now commanded.
Everything had changed when Rex ascended to the Immortal phase. His ability factor evolved, transforming into something far greater than a mere tool for manipulating objects. It became a force that allowed him to manifest Redshift in its full glory, a power so intricate and potent that it granted him access to the Pendragon Sword Art—a technique revered and feared across the Federation. But mastery came at a price. Rex was still new to the Pendragon Sword Art, and its demands on his mind and body were punishing. Unlike the well-practiced Dancing Dragon style, which felt like second nature, the Pendragon Sword Art required precision and mental focus that left him vulnerable to mistakes and exhaustion. The strain was longer-lasting and more severe than he had anticipated, and he was forced to endure its downsides far longer than he liked. Each step toward Alpha Court was a reminder of the challenges he still faced. The Pendragon Sword Art was a blade that cut both ways—exquisite in its power but ruthless in its cost. Yet Rex pressed on, determined to refine his abilities and push past his limits. He knew the path to true mastery was paved with hardship, and he was ready to walk it, no matter how heavy the burden.
As Rex continued walking, a sudden wave of vibrations rippled through Bravo Court, rattling the air around him. His head snapped up as spiderweb cracks began forming along the space itself, reality seeming to fracture under an unseen pressure. The ground beneath his feet trembled, and the unmistakable hum of dark energy pierced through the air. It was a tremor—an ominous warning from the Infernal dimension.
"Move aside!" a sharp voice yelled, cutting through the chaos.
A bat-like figure streaked past him, her leathery wings cutting through the air as she carried a hulking wolf-like creature in her arms. The sheer urgency in her tone jolted Rex into motion. Gritting his teeth and ignoring his exhaustion, he forced his legs to move, chasing after her as fast as his weakened body allowed. Every step was a struggle, his depleted Odic reserves screaming in protest, but the urgency of the situation left him no choice.
When Rex reached the throne room, he skidded to a halt, his breath ragged, his senses reeling. The scene before him was chaos incarnate. The batwoman had already landed, kneeling at the side of her king, her wide eyes reflecting anguish as she took in his condition. Sirius, the towering Beast King, was pinned in place—a crackling blue lightning spear impaled through his gut. His massive clawed hands gripped the spear desperately, but every attempt to pull it free only sent waves of electric energy coursing through his body. The smell of charred fur and ozone filled the air. Rex staggered forward, his vision blurred by exhaustion but still sharp enough to assess the scene. Relief washed over him when he spotted Leon standing at the far end of the room, battered but alive. Emily, however, was unconscious, her limp form supported by Leon's arm. The sight of her made Rex's chest tighten, but the faint rise and fall of her chest assured him she was still breathing.
The throne room itself was crumbling. The space around them flickered and warped as the Infernal engine that had once stabilized the encroaching dimension began to fail. The disintegration of the Infernal energy was palpable, its oppressive presence retreating as Terra's natural space surged forward, reclaiming its dominance. But one figure was notably absent. Freya. Rex's eyes darted to the lightning spear impaling Sirius, the weapon crackling with an unmistakable ferocity. There was no doubt in his mind—it was Freya's handiwork.
There was no trace of her in the throne room. Had she retreated? Or had something happened to her during the battle? Rex forced himself to steady his breathing, his hands trembling at his sides. His body was on the verge of collapse, but there was no time to dwell on his condition. The Infernal dimension's threat was receding, but the aftermath of this battle still hung heavy in the air. His gaze shifted to Sirius, whose snarls of pain echoed through the chamber, and then to Leon, whose expression was a storm of fury and relief.
"Leon," Rex called out, his voice hoarse as he took a step forward. "What happened here?"
The battle may have ended, but the war—and its consequences—were far from over. Rex approached Leon and Emily, his steps still unsteady but purposeful. His sharp eyes scanned them both. Leon's face was slick with sweat, his chest rising and falling in a steady rhythm, but he appeared to be in far better shape than Rex. Even Emily, unconscious and slumped against Leon's side, looked less bad for wear than Rex felt.
"You look like shit," Leon remarked, a hint of dry humor in his voice as he glanced at Rex.
"I know," Rex replied, forcing a grin despite the pounding in his head.
Their brief exchange was interrupted by a guttural roar that reverberated through the crumbling throne room. Both men's attention snapped back to Sirius, the Beast King, who stood in defiance despite his grievous injuries. His golden eyes burned with hatred as they locked onto the Pleiadians, his massive form trembling with effort. Sirius's pain was visible in every strained movement, but the true agony ran deeper than flesh. The lightning spear embedded in his gut had been more than just a physical attack—it had pierced his very soul. Freya's mastery over Soulflames, combined with her lightning, had augmented the weapon into a devastating tool that targeted both body and spirit. Only the Beast King's formidable soul defenses had kept him alive. If the spear had fully shattered his soul, he would already be dead. A pool of dark, steaming blood spread beneath Sirius as he attempted to rise. His legs buckled, and his claws scraped against the stone floor, but his pride refused to let him remain on the ground. Kiara, the batwoman, rushed to his side, her wings folding protectively as she tried to steady him.
"Don't touch me!" Sirius growled, shoving her away with a forceful swipe of his arm. His pride would not allow him to lean on anyone, not even his own people.
"This isn't over, Paladins," Sirius snarled, his voice deep and resonant despite his weakened state. His gaze shifted between Leon and Rex, filled with venomous contempt. "My servants across this world will enforce my will. I will return, and next time, I shall bring my full army upon this planet. I will claim it as my own. Your wretched goddess owes me that much!"
At the mention of a goddess, Leon stiffened slightly. The Beast King's scornful emphasis on "Haravok" didn't escape him. Sirius clearly believed Leon was a devout worshipper of Asha, the heretic goddess, a connection likely drawn from his mother, Julia Haravok, who was one of Asha's followers. But Leon shook his head, the accusation brushing off him like dust. Religion had never been his thing. He had no allegiance to Asha or any other deity. Still, Sirius's words planted a seed of curiosity in Leon's mind. There was a clear link between this Nemeanian and the worshippers of Asha. Whether it was through shared history, enmity, or something deeper, the Beast King's claim couldn't be ignored. Leon's expression hardened as he watched Sirius stumble yet remain defiant. Whatever connection the Beast King had to Asha's followers, it would need to be unraveled—if not for faith, then for strategy. The war wasn't over, and knowledge was as much a weapon as any sword.
For now, though, the Beast King remained a towering threat, even in his diminished state. Rex exchanged a glance with Leon, the unspoken question hanging in the air. Would Sirius truly retreat, or was this just the prelude to another fight? Leon gripped the hilt of his sword tightly.
"Let him leave," he muttered under his breath, his voice low enough for only Rex to hear. "If he's serious about returning, we'll be ready."
Rex nodded faintly, his eyes narrowing as Sirius turned his back on them, blood trailing in his wake. The Beast King's retreat was not a surrender—it was a promise of war to come. Kiara, still clutching the unconscious Rhyka in her arms, turned her back on the battlefield and followed her King without a word. She moved with purpose, her piercing eyes fixed on Sirius's staggering form, her mind too occupied with his injuries to even register the absence of Patau. Behind her, the remaining Beastmen fell into formation, their battered figures limping toward their King like shadows drawn to a dying flame.
A swirling black gateway appeared before them, its edges crackling with dark energy. Without hesitation, the Beastmen entered the portal one by one, vanishing into its void. Kiara was the last to step through, her wings curling protectively around Rhyka as the gateway sealed shut behind her with a resonant thrum. And just like that, the invaders were gone. As the Beastmen disappeared, the ominous presence of the Infernal dimension dissolved with them. The air shifted, growing lighter as Terra's natural space reasserted its dominance. Cracks in the fabric of reality mended themselves, and the oppressive atmosphere of the throne room faded into something more mundane. Within moments, the sprawling battleground collapsed back into its true form: the ordinary, unassuming Northbrook Mall.
"Looks like we were successful," Leon said, his voice cutting through the lingering silence.
Rex exhaled deeply, exhaustion evident in his posture. "Let's hope the others managed to get out of here in one piece."
The two exchanged a glance, neither willing to voice the uncertainties hanging in the air. There was relief, yes—but it was tempered by the knowledge that this was just one battle in a much larger war.
****
Elsewhere in the mall, Sam's senses were on high alert. She had been tracking the Batwoman from the moment Kiara had appeared, her sharp eyes following every movement as Rhyka's unconscious form was whisked away. Her instincts bristled at the retreating enemies, but she held her ground, her focus shifting to her immediate surroundings.
As the black gateway swallowed the last of the Beastmen back in Alpha courts, Sam noticed the subtle changes taking place around her. The warped spatial structure that had once enveloped Northbrook began to collapse in on itself like a balloon slowly deflating. The unnatural expansion of space unraveled, layer by layer, as Terra's original reality reclaimed its hold. Within moments, the chaotic, otherworldly battlefield was gone. Northbook Mall stood as it always had—a familiar array of shops, kiosks, and hallways. Yet the traces of the battle remained, etched into the air like invisible scars. Sam took a cautious step forward, her gauntlet humming softly as she kept it at the ready. The sudden shift back to normalcy was jarring, but she didn't let her guard down.
"It's back," she murmured, scanning the surroundings one last time to ensure there were no lingering threats. Her gaze lingered on a shattered window and a bloodstained tile—small remnants of the chaos that had unfolded here. She clenched her fist, her thoughts drifting to the others. I hope they're okay. The mall may have returned to its original state, but the echoes of the conflict still lingered in her mind. Which was why Sam didn't immediately notice the arrival of a new presence. Out of the lingering shadows cast by the dissipating Infernal dimension, a figure emerged—tall, imposing, and wrapped in an unsettling aura. His garnet-hued armor gleamed faintly under the mall's artificial lights, the intricate patterns on its surface giving it an almost ritualistic design. Atop his head, a purple mask shaped like a goat's face—with curling horns that added to its grotesque appearance—obscured his identity.
Nabu, a Constellation Agent of Sector Zero.
His presence radiated an eerie calm, a predator's patience laced with menace. Beside him, other Sector Zero agents stepped forward, their masks just as unnerving. Each one bore designs resembling various beasts or celestial beings, giving them an otherworldly and menacing appearance. Though their faces were hidden, their collective silence and controlled movements spoke volumes—they weren't here to negotiate.
The charged atmosphere shifted as though the air itself bristled with tension. It was this unnatural shift that finally pulled Sam's attention away from the remnants of the Infernal dimension. She turned sharply, her eyes narrowing as they locked onto the Sector Zero group. Her heart sank when she saw how close they were to Henry and Stella, right behind them. Her mind immediately flashed to Sinutu and Aniuntium, the assassin siblings who had once been sent to kill her. The memory spurred her into action, and she sprinted forward with all the speed she could muster, heading straight for Henry and Stella.
Stella, her connection to the Odyllic fully restored, had already begun absorbing Od into her core when she felt the sinister presence of the Sector Zero agents. A surge of murderous intent cut through the air, its target clear—Henry. Acting on instinct, Stella flicked her fingers, and a spell materialized in an instant. A gust of wind burst forth, strong and precise, shoving Henry out of the path of the blade aimed at his heart. The force sent Henry careening backward, colliding into Sam, who had been rushing toward them. The impact knocked Sam off balance, pushing her and Henry further away from the immediate danger.
But as Stella focused on saving Henry, she left herself open. Nabu moved with ruthless precision, his spear—wrapped with a faintly glowing purple cloth—striking with deadly accuracy. The blade pierced through Stella's stomach with brutal force, lifting her into the air as blood spilled from the wound. Sam's heart stopped as she watched in horror, her body frozen for an agonizing moment. Stella's face contorted in pain, blood dripping from her lips as the spear held her aloft.
"Nooo!" Sam screamed, her voice raw with desperation. She surged forward, her gauntlet flaring with energy as she tried to reach Stella. But before she could get close, a barrier shimmered into existence around her and Henry, blocking her path. Avis appeared, moving swiftly to contain the situation. The barrier's translucent glow pulsed with power as he stood between Sam and the battlefield. His expression was grave as he turned to her.
"You don't stand a chance against him, Asha'yee," Avis said, his tone firm but not unkind. "He's a Master Realm fighter—at the peak, nearly ready to break into the next phase of Ascension."
Sam slammed her fists against the barrier, her teeth gritted in frustration and grief as she watched Stella's blood drip onto the ground. Her mind raced, searching for a way to break through the barrier and reach her friend, but Avis's words rang in her ears. Nabu, standing motionless beneath Stella's impaled body, exuded an overwhelming presence. His garnet armor shimmered faintly under the light, and the horned mask he wore seemed to stare through Sam with cold detachment. The cloth wrapped around his spear began to pulse with a sinister energy, amplifying the scene's eerie tension. Sam's fists trembled as her screams of anguish echoed within the confines of the barrier, powerless against the force of Nabu's overwhelming strength.
"I had heard much about you, Asha'yee," Nabu said, his voice cold and detached, the resonance of authority evident in his tone. "I did not expect you and your friends to survive Sirius and his forces. I suppose we placed too much faith in him to eliminate you."
With a calculated motion, he tightened his grip on the spear, driving the blade deeper into Stella's abdomen. She let out a choked gasp as blood continued to flow, her body trembling under the weight of the assault. The agents surrounding them remained motionless, their weapons drawn, their focus razor-sharp on Sam and Henry. The barrier trembled under their combined pressure, the shimmering dome flickering dangerously.
"But it matters not," Nabu continued. "The Beast King has fulfilled his purpose. The cleansing has been sanctioned. Soon, you and your goddess's influence over this planet will be erased, and dominion will return to the Divine Emperor, as it always should have been."
"And so shall it be," the other agents intoned in unison, their voices like a chilling chant.
"I doubt that," a powerful voice cut through the tension, commanding immediate attention.
In an instant, a surge of golden light descended like a divine meteor, bathing the area in an overwhelming wave of heat and pressure. The ground cracked beneath the force as a radiant shockwave erupted, sending the agents sprawling like ragdolls. Nabu staggered, his sharp senses recognizing the magnitude of the power bearing down on him. He quickly withdrew his spear, releasing Stella's limp body as Leon appeared before him, radiant and imposing.
Leon caught Stella in midair, cradling her with precise care. His golden armor, forged of concentrated mana, radiated a blinding brilliance, his body encased in the Hyperion state—the Nova Force stage. Heatwaves rippled around him, each one carrying an oppressive energy that warped the very air. Despite the inferno-like aura, Stella remained unharmed, a testament to Leon's meticulous control over his state.
From the corner of the battlefield, Rex appeared, carrying Emily's unconscious form. His sharp eyes scanned the scene, instantly recognizing the threat posed by Nabu and his agents. He knew their purpose—the elimination of Samantha Sinclair.
"Haravok, you disgrace your noble heritage," Nabu sneered, his mask hiding any hint of emotion.
Leon ignored the insult, his focus solely on Stella. He examined her wound, his heart sinking as he realized the severity of her condition. The spear had pierced a vital organ, and while Stella, as an Awakened being, should have been able to heal, her prolonged disconnection from the Odyllic had left her vulnerable. Worse, he could sense a toxic energy coursing through her system, disrupting her mana flow and targeting her core. Leon moved in a flash, appearing beside Sam and Henry in an instant. The force of his landing shattered Avis's barrier, but both Sam and Henry were unharmed. He gently placed Stella down beside Sam, glancing at the tears streaming down her face. A surge of anger welled within him, stoking his mana reserves to their peak. Rising to his full height, Leon turned to face Nabu. His golden aura flared, the intensity of his Hyperion state pressing down on everyone present like a tidal wave.
"You're going to die," Leon said, his voice calm but brimming with deadly intent.
Before Nabu could respond, Leon vanished in a blur of yellow light. He reappeared behind Nabu in a fraction of a second, his blade aimed with lethal precision for decapitation. The sheer murderous intent radiating from Leon sent a shiver through the air, making even the seasoned agents falter. Nabu, however, stood his ground, his instincts razor-sharp. With an almost mechanical reflex, he raised his spear, meeting Leon's Divine-grade blade with his Mythical-grade weapon. The clash reverberated through the mall, the shockwave shaking Northbook to its very foundations. Walls cracked, and the ceiling groaned under the strain of their collision.
Sparks flew as the weapons clashed, the sheer power of the combatants threatening to tear the structure apart. The oppressive heat from Leon's Hyperion state combined with the dark energy radiating from Nabu's spear, creating a volatile mix that warped reality around them.
The fight had only just begun, and the battle between Leon Haravok and Nabu of Sector Zero promised to reshape the battlefield—and perhaps even the planet.