The infinite void between galaxies offered no sound, no air, only the crushing silence of absolute zero and the distant, indifferent glitter of stars. Shinji Kazuhiko hovered, Act 3 energy shimmering like contained starlight beneath his feet, forming unstable platforms that hissed against the vacuum. Opposite him, Khoseph, the Magikill Monarch, stood with infuriating nonchalance, his simple robes undisturbed, his messy brown hair floating gently as if underwater. His hazel eyes held a detached curiosity, like a scientist observing a particularly aggressive microbe.
"Magikill?" Shinji echoed, his voice transmitted through the void by focused spiritual energy. "Didn't understand, but you feel... excessive. Where do you rank among Saganbo's pets?" He kept his tone deliberately provocative, probing for weakness, for pride.
Khoseph waved a dismissive hand. "Call it 'Magic' if 'Magikill' sounds gauche. Lord Saganbo has a flair for the dramatic. And me?" A bland, almost bored smile touched his lips. "I'm considered... potent and reliable. Less theatrics, more results. That's all I can tell you." He tilted his head, observing Shinji's energy platforms flicker. "You're struggling just to stay aloft, Trascender. Cockiness seems premature."
Shinji's lips thinned. He sees the instability. With a surge of will, the Act 3 energy beneath his feet solidified, glowing brighter, stabilizing his stance. "This?" Shinji retorted, forcing calm into his voice. "Act 3: Spiritual Energy Manifestation. Just reshaping my power. Crude flight, maybe. But who said you hold the high ground?" A pulse of raw power emanated from him. Not the terrifying release that glassed Mount Veridian, but a focused declaration, a flexing of spiritual muscle. "You're the cocky one."
The void itself seemed to flinch. Distant nebulae momentarily dimmed. Space-time rippled subtly around Shinji, a visible distortion propagating outward. For a single, heart-stopping moment, the fabric of Universe 3 trembled.
Khoseph's eyes widened a fraction, the first crack in his mask of boredom. The mundane hazel seemed to deepen, revealing cold, calculating depths. "Fascinating," he murmured, the word carrying genuine surprise across the void. "I underestimated you, mortal. Significantly. We might indeed be... comparable." He shifted his weight, a subtle coiling of unseen power. "This changes the retrieval parameters."
Before Shinji could respond, a streak of cerulean fury tore through the void. Merus, battered but blazing with righteous fury, materialized like a vengeful comet. His pearlescent suit was cracked, luminous blue blood oozing from the spatial shear wounds inflicted by the planetary kick, but his glacial eyes burned with absolute focus. "Khoseph!" The name was a thunderclap in the mindscape.
He didn't speak. He acted. A fist wreathed in the raw, shimmering energy of Creation itself; light and heat and nascent matter coalescing; slammed towards Khoseph's seemingly unprotected head.
Khoseph reacted not with panic, but with eerie precision. He raised his forearm, not to block, but to intercept. The space around his arm warped violently, a localized distortion field snapping into existence.
CRACK-BOOM!
The sound of colliding fundamentals ripped through the silent void. Merus's creation energy met Khoseph's spatial distortion. Light flared, blindingly white, then collapsed inwards. The recoil was catastrophic. Khoseph was blasted backwards, not through space, but across it, a human-shaped projectile hurtling towards a small, blue-green planet orbiting a distant star.
He struck its atmosphere like a meteor, trailing fire, vanishing into its cloud cover. Seconds later, a plume of dust and debris mushroomed from the impact site, visible even across the stellar distance.
Merus hovered, panting slightly, his fist smoking. "Glad you blocked," he projected, relief warring with fury. "Leveling another world... the loss of life..." He shook his head, the weight of his domain heavy upon him. "Unacceptable for a God of Creation."
YOU ARE READING
Trascender : The Fourth Gust
FantasyWhat happens when death becomes impossible? Nineteen-year-old Shinji Kazuhiko's life shattered the night a masked killer invaded his home. Left for dead, he made a horrifying discovery: he cannot die. And with each death, something inside him grows...
