14.Void space Guardian
The Void Giant knelt amidst the ruins of the battlefield, its towering frame looming like a crumbling monument over the broken earth. Its breaths came in ragged gasps, each exhalation a wheezing reminder of its exhaustion. Before it stood Damon, diminutive in stature yet carrying an aura so vast that it seemed to fill the entire expanse of the void. His small frame was deceptive—a cruel mockery of the power that radiated from him.
"This is no child," the Void Giant thought, its glowing eyes wide with a mix of terror and disbelief. "This is a demon wearing the mask of a boy."
Its mind churned with memories of a bygone era. It had once been a king, a force of nature that carved its legacy into the annals of war with blood and fire. It had faced countless enemies, triumphed over legions, and stood unbroken through time. Yet now, it knelt in defeat, its pride and might shattered under the weight of the boy's unyielding presence.
Above the giant, Damon stood utterly still, his figure illuminated by the faint glow of void energy that clung to him like a second skin. His gaze was steady, cutting through the giant's defenses with the precision of a blade. The Void Giant quailed under the intensity of those eyes—eyes devoid of fear, doubt, or hesitation.
What Damon exuded wasn't arrogance. It was certainty. A confidence so absolute it defied reason, a quality even the greatest warriors of old could only dream of possessing. The giant shuddered involuntarily, feeling Damon's gaze pierce the very essence of its being, stripping away the last vestiges of its defiance.
Suddenly, Damon spoke. His voice was calm, but each word carried a crushing authority that reverberated through the air. "Your kind," he said, the weight of his words pressing down on the giant like an unseen force, "do not belong in this broken world."
The declaration struck the Void Giant harder than any weapon ever could. It trembled, not from physical injury but from a profound realization. For the first time, it felt like an outsider—a relic of an age that had no place in this new, unforgiving world. It had fought countless foes, but none had made it feel this... irrelevant.
The giant's massive hands quivered as it tried to rise, the weight of Damon's presence pinning it down. It gazed up at the boy, framed by the dark, swirling sky. Damon's figure emanated a quiet, terrible power, his mere existence rewriting the rules of the battlefield.
"Is this the future of this shattered world?" the Void Giant wondered, despair coiling around its heart. "If so, then we are nothing but remnants of a forgotten age."
The ground beneath Damon cracked as he took a single, deliberate step forward, the air around him growing heavier. The Void Giant, once a king, now bowed its head, overwhelmed by the force of a being it could only describe as a demon.
But Damon's actions broke the silence. He knelt, withdrawing a small, glimmering seed from his pocket. Without a word, he pressed it into the earth. The Void Giant and Velma, watching from a cautious distance, exchanged confused glances, wondering what the boy was doing.
Moments later, the ground shuddered violently. Tremors rippled outward, cracking the earth as a towering tree erupted from the soil. Its trunk was a gleaming white, its branches dripping with blood-red leaves that swayed unnaturally in the void-laden air. At its heart, a massive, unblinking eye opened, gazing out with an ancient, sentient awareness.
The Void Giant stumbled back in awe. "This spiritual energy it's too violent..." it whispered, its voice trembling.
The tree pulsed with life, its spiritual energy so vast that it erected a barrier around itself to contain the sheer power radiating from its form. A voice echoed within the barrier, feminine yet laced with a deep, timeless wisdom.
"Haha! Master, we are finally reunited!"
Velma's head snapped toward the voice, her eyes darting around in search of its source. Suddenly, a portion of the tree opened like a doorway, and out stepped a figure of breathtaking beauty. A woman with flowing green hair, eyes as human as hers, yet marred by a third eye glowing in the center of her forehead.
Without hesitation, the woman dashed toward Damon. Her movements carried a grace and urgency that made both Velma and the Void Giant retreat several paces instinctively.
"What... what is that?" Velma stammered, her voice trembling. "I've never felt something so sinister before."
The woman, the embodiment of the Willow Tree of Imagination, threw her arms around Damon, her voice trembling with joy. "Master, I've missed you so much."
Damon stood there, momentarily stunned. He hadn't expected the tree he'd planted in his past life to take on a human form. But he quickly recovered, gently patting her head in reassurance.
Velma, watching this strange reunion, felt an unfamiliar pang in her chest. Gritting her teeth, she flipped her hair with a practiced motion, trying to reassert herself. "So," she said sharply, cutting through the moment, "how do we get back?" She stepped closer to Damon, her movements deliberate, her fragrance faint but alluring.
But just as Damon turned to respond, he suddenly staggered, his vision swimming. Before anyone could react, he collapsed.
"Master!" The Willow Tree and Velma rushed to his side, panic etched on their faces.
The Void Giant's deep voice rumbled. "He is poisoned... but I have no skills to heal him."
Velma froze, her eyes widening in shock. Slowly, she stepped back, clutching her hand to her chest. Guilt twisted her features as realization dawned.
"You possess the Seven Poison Body," the Willow Tree hissed, her rage palpable. "How did I not sense this earlier?!"
Velma's voice was barely a whisper as she looked at Damon's unconscious form. "I... I didn't mean for this to happen."
Before Damon's condition could worsen, the Willow Tree of Imagination sprang into action, desperation etched across her ethereal face. Without hesitation, she slashed her palm open with a sharp tendril that extended from her hand, golden nectar dripping from the wound. Her glowing lifeblood shimmered with power, carrying the essence of her being, a gift few could ever imagine receiving.
Carefully, she leaned down, letting the nectar drip onto Damon's lips. The liquid pooled there, glistening like molten sunlight, but no response came. His chest remained still, his expression lifeless.
"Master, we just reunited!" she cried, her voice cracking with anguish. Tears welled in her three eyes, the pain of seeing him like this ripping through her. "You have to wake up!"
Her hands trembled as she beat against his chest, her strength controlled but firm, as if trying to stir life back into him. The ground beneath her began to pulse in response to her emotions, the very earth seeming to share her despair.
Suddenly, a deep rumble filled the air as roots burst from the ground. They coiled around Damon's body like protective serpents, lifting him gently into the air. The roots glowed with a soft, golden hue, pulsing in rhythm with the nectar that still lingered on his lips.
"What... what's happening?" Velma whispered, her voice barely audible as she took a step back. The sight before her was unlike anything she had ever seen, both terrifying and mesmerizing.
The Willow Tree of Imagination, her form glowing faintly, placed her hands on the roots, her connection to the tree amplifying her resolve. "This is the only way," she murmured, her voice filled with determination. The roots tightened around Damon, forming a cocoon of luminous energy as they worked to purge the poison from his body.
The Void Giant, watching in awe, rumbled softly, "She's using her essence... sacrificing a part of herself to save him. Such devotion... I've never seen anything like it."
Velma clenched her fists, guilt weighing heavily on her heart as she watched the scene unfold. She bit her lip, the emotions in her chest churning. She had been the cause of Damon's current state, however unintentional, and yet here was this strange being—this tree given form—willing to give everything to save him.
The cocoon pulsed brighter, the energy within growing more intense. The earth trembled beneath them, and the air became thick with spiritual power. Everyone held their breath, waiting for a sign, a movement—anything to indicate that Damon would awaken.