Kan's breath hitched, his body trembling with fear and exhaustion. He knew Omen was right. He closed his eyes, his body slumping forward slightly as if resigning himself to his fate. Omen watched him for a moment, aiming to crush Kan in one decisive blow. But as he descended, Kan's figure dissolved into smoke, vanishing into thin air.
'An illusion,' Omen thought, his mind immediately alert. He turned with a roll, his eyes darting around the forest clearing. Multiple versions of Kan appeared all around him, each one identical, their faces twisted in mock defiance. They moved in unison, circling Omen like wolves closing in on their prey.
He wasn't angry, instead, he was inwardly pleased with this development, afterall he didn't want Kan's death to be so easy. He activated his [exogene sense], but each illusion was composed of the same exogene residue, indistinguishable from the real Kan.
Switching tactics, he activated his [thermal sense], scanning for any hint of warmth. But there was nothing—no heat signatures, no sign of life. The real Kan had long since fled, leaving only these phantom echoes behind.
He let his clones destroy the illusions. Leaping back into the trees, he activated his [vibration sense], hoping to detect Kan's movements through the vibrations in the ground. The forest, however, was too alive, too crowded with creatures. Each one sent tiny tremors through the earth, muddying the signals. Omen gritted his teeth, his patience thinning. There was only one option left: [life vision].
Omen's vision shifted, his eyes sweeping across the forest, filtering through layers of reality. The world around him became a dark expanse filled with flickering orbs of life. Most were dim and small—animals, insects, the forest's natural inhabitants. But there, further ahead, he spotted a brighter, more defined light: Kan. The muscular man had gained a considerable distance, his speed impressive even through the thick underbrush.
Without wasting another second, Omen launched himself from the tree, descending with the force of a meteor. The remaining illusions below rushed toward him, their faces contorted in a silent scream. Omen focused on his exogene, channelling it into his legs and activating [Instant Dash]. The world blurred around him as he shot forward like a missile, his speed tearing through the forest. Trees exploded into splinters and debris, unable to withstand the sheer force of his passage.
In a split second, Omen closed the gap, and his hand pierced through Kan's back with a sickening crunch. He grabbed hold of the man's spine, feeling the hard bone beneath his grip, and in one brutal, fluid motion, he ripped it out, dragging Kan's skull with it. Blood sprayed in all directions, painting the forest floor in crimson texture. Kan's body crumpled to the ground, lifeless, a look of frozen shock on his face.
As Omen held the spine with it's skull aloft, his senses flared, warning him of another presence. He spun on his heel, using the grotesque makeshift weapon to swing at the approaching enemy. The spine cracked through the air like a whip, the skull at its end connecting with the enemy's head. A horrific collision occurred, and both skulls erupted in a spray of flesh and blood, with the sound of a thunderclap. The tremendous intensity of the contact drove shockwaves across the ground, causing nearby trees to tremble.
Omen stood amidst the destruction, his breathing calm, his countenance steely and unwavering. The remains of Kan and the second enemy were scattered around him.
"Who was that guy?", he mumbled to himself, as he felt the corpse's ability entering his body, he ignored the pain of the ablity's invasion and quickly looked at what he got in his sea of soul…[body phasing]! "Hmm". With that he turned his attention back to his surroundings only now realizing that he had unknowingly reached Malek.
He turned, his gaze falling on the remaining two opponents who had yet to move. His presence exuded a demonic aura, his dark eyes gleaming with a dangerous light. He spoke with a voice that carried both a command and a challenge, "Come on, Malek, let's take them down."
But as Omen glanced at his friend, his words caught in his throat. The sight that met his eyes was chillin. Malek stood still, his massive form frozen in place. His mouth oozed blood, and his gaze were empty, staring blankly without intent; a gaping hole stood in the centre of his chest, where his heart had once been. The red giant was standing still in death, his heart ripped out, his strength drained…but yet, he remained standing. Omen had deep respect for this red giant, he felt complete[--]
[Emotion: Reverence]
[Emotions stolen until tranquility:4/100]
He paused in confusion; he was about to say something…Malek had been killed by the body phaser, the battle had just concluded when Omen appeared and on instinct killed the enemy along with Kan.
Omen's breath hitched as he processed the scene, his mind racing. This was not part of the plan. Malek…dead? The realisation poured over him like an icy surge, and for a brief instant, confusion flashed across his gaze.
Omen's grip tightened around the bloody spine in his hand, his mind shifting back into combat mode. His eyes scanned the area. His body thrummed with energy, every muscle coiled and ready to unleash more devastation. The air around him seemed to pulse with a dark, foreboding energy.
He felt the earth shift beneath his feet, the ground trembling as if recognizing his wrath...unfortunately, it wasn't caused by him. Snow vines burst forth from the frozen ground, twisting and curling around his legs, tightening like icy serpents. Their grip was relentless, the cold biting into his skin. He snarled in defiance, his muscles straining against the sudden restraint. The vines were powerful, imbued with ancient magic capable of defeating even the most formidable opponents.
A figure appeared from the forest's shadows, moving into the light with a commanding presence. An Acolyte—the overseer of the last purge. His face was calm, almost indifferent, as if he was used to such scenes of carnage. His robes flowed around him like a dark cloud. He stopped at the edge of the clearing, surveying the destruction with a cold, calculating gaze.
"The rules state only five must return alive," he intoned, his voice echoing with an eerie calm. "Two are unconscious but alive. You three are the last standing." His eyes moved across the battlefield, taking in each of the remaining contenders with a detached interest. "The purge has ended."
He lifted a hand, a subtle gesture, and the snow vines released their grip on Omen, retracting back into the ground as if they had never existed. Omen felt the tension ease from his limbs, but his rage remained undiminished, his focus sharp as a blade. He watched the Acolyte turn—
Without a moment's hesitation, Omen activated his [precognition] and dashed forward. To the onlookers, he appeared as though he had vanished before their very eyes from the place he was only moments before, only to resurface behind the Acolyte. The sudden movement was so fast, so precise, that it left everyone stunned, their eyes struggling to track his motion.
Omen's hand was already in motion, slicing through the air with lethal intent. His fingers curled into a claw, exogene-infused muscles tightening as his arm thrust forward with all the force he could muster. His hand pierced through the back of the Acolyte's head, fingers emerging from the man's mouth, slick with blood and destroyed teeth. The Acolyte's eyes widened in shock; a silent scream frozen on his distorted lips.
Time seemed to stand still. The entire circle of survivors watched in horror, unable to comprehend what had just happened. The Acolyte! This seemingly invincible being only next to the Masters, was brought low in an instant...killed just like that! Omen stood behind him, his face a mask of cold fury and satisfaction, his hand buried deep in the Master's skull.
There was a sickening crack as Omen squeezed his hand into a fist, and the Master's head exploded in a shower of gore. Blood, cerebral substance, and skull fragments splattered in multiple directions over the snow-covered surface. The corpse sank forward, crumpling to the ground like an abandoned toy, dead and shattered.
'Body phasing really suits my taste', Omen said with a dark smile as he withdrew his hand, the dark mist surrounding him seeming to pulse with a life of its own, swirling around him like a shroud of darkness. He slowly turned his gaze back to the remaining two opponents, his expression unreadable, his eyes black and cold. There was no mercy, no remorse in his gaze.
"Anyone else?" Omen's voice was low, almost a whisper, but it carried across the clearing with an unsettling clarity. He stepped forward, his movements and sending a ripple through the ground as if the earth itself feared his presence.
The two remaining opponents exchanged a glance, their faces pale and drawn, an expression Omen never considered seeing on the gynoid's face. They were both seasoned fighters, skilled in their own rights, but against this—against Omen—they knew they stood no chance. Fear rooted them to the spot, their bodies trembling as they faced the demonic figure before them…yet they didn't falter.
The golden-haired boy's sudden laughter echoed through the silence, a sharp contrast to the mounting tension.
"What?" Omen asked again, his voice laced with a mix of irritation and confusion. His eyes flickered to another golden-haired boy, who was lounging casually on a boulder, seemingly unbothered by the chaos that had just unfolded.
'so you can clone, so what? For foundation to my abilities anywhere', he thought as he turned his gaze back to the duo. "He interrupted your deaths," Omen continued, his smile turning darker, more sinister. But beneath the surface, a sliver of uncertainty began to creep in.
"You imbecile!" Tame's voice rang out, harsh and panicked. His mechanical form buzzed with energy, his systems clearly on high alert. "Don't you know what happens when an Acolyte is murdered?!"
Omen felt his heart skip a beat, a cold sweat breaking out on his brow. The Acolyte weren't only spokesmen or guards—they were integral parts of a greater entity…the entity, each one like a vital organ in a single, colossal organism. Killing one wasn't just a crime; it was an instant death sentence…in his confidence and anger he'd arrogantly killed one of the overlord's heralds.
It wasn't that it had never happened, when the purges began, the first generations had waged war and some succeeded in killing some Acolytes, but the retaliation was brutal. Their frozen corpses were still on display at the barricade's entrance till date.
The golden-haired boy's laughter grew louder, more mocking. He leaned forward, eyes gleaming with amusement. "If I were you, boy, I would get moving," he said with a grin, his tone dripping with condescension.
Omen had heard rumors before, legends of what happened when an Acolyte was slain. None had ever survived to tell the tale. His eerie gaze swept the horizon, looking for some indication of what was approaching. except there was nothing except stifling quiet and an increasing sensation of dread.
Omen felt a dreadful cold go down his spine for the first time. He was unfamiliar with this sensation. He was accustomed to being the predator, instilling dread in others. But now, something was coming for him—something fast, something relentless.
He turned to Tame and the golden-haired boy, his expression a mix of anger and panic. "What is it? What's coming?"
But Tame didn't respond. His eyes were fixed on the forest, his metallic body trembling ever so slightly. The golden-haired boy's laughter ceased, his face turning serious. "It's too late," he murmured, almost to himself. "It's already here."