Black ash still swirls around the fractured altar where Emperor Zadkiel stands—no longer corpse, not yet god, a living wound stitched together by wrath. The sky above him is a livid bruise of storm-purple and blood-red.
He tilts his head back, baffled.
Zadkiel (hoarse, almost child-like)
"…Why am I still here?"
A razor of pain splits his skull.
He drops to one knee—taloned fingers digging furrows through stone as a tidal wave of memories detonates behind his eyes.
The First Blade of Betrayal
He sees his wife again—soft smile, moonlit hair.
Then the torches.
Then the mob.
Her terrified face pressed against the doorframe while he is dragged to a cellar, iron chains cutting bone.
Above him, muffled screams: his daughter… his twin sons…
Violence sloshes through cracked floorboards.
A final, wet silence.
The cellar door opens. They haul him out, lash him to a post, pile tinder at his feet.
The flames rise—
—and something inside him dies and is reborn all at once.
Village in ashes. Wife's hollow eyes. Daughter's small body swaying from a branch.
His sons crawling in the dirt, minds shattered past any mercy.
A new tableau—an elegant manor ablaze.
Mother, Father, the kind strangers who called him "son," both sprawled on marble, throats opened by accident in his desperate panic.
Two little sisters in nightgowns, eyes huge with terror.
Little Sister (screaming)
"Monster! Murderer!"
Their words brand his heart.
He reaches out—I love you!—but flames swallow their faces.
A third vision—threads weaving the prior horrors together:
A man of immaculate poise: Law.
Smiling at Zadkiel's wife on the day of the festival.
Whispering to villagers behind shuttered doors.
Standing in the burning mansion's foyer, untouched by smoke.
Kneeling in that same cellar, fingers cool on Zadkiel's temples.
Law (silken, echoing):
"You will forget I was ever here."
Reality buckles. Memory fractures. The edits bleed.
Present Moment
Zadkiel lurches upright, screaming until the mountains tremble.
Zadkiel (roaring at the heavens)
"WHY DO YOU ALL KEEP LEAVING ME?
WHAT DID I DO WRONG?
WHY DOES EVERYONE HATE ME SO MUCH?"
Black ichor tears streak his cheeks. The ground cracks in spiderwebs beneath him.
Around his feet, raw emotion coalesces—spectral figures of rage, envy, despair swirl like storm spirits, drawn to their maker. Each memory shard feeds them; each unanswered question sharpens them into spears.
Then—amid the cacophony—one voice cuts through:
Law's whisper inside his mind, smooth and certain.
>"Hate them, Zadkiel.
Hate the world that cast you out.
And when all is ashes… I will show you the truth."
Zadkiel's eyes flare two supernovas of agony and fury.
He staggers forward, half-sobbing, half-snarling, as the ridge top quakes beneath an expanding corona of dark power.
Zadkiel (voice cracking, a vow to the void)
"I will burn every world down to it last ashes.
I will kill the everyone that watched and laughed.
And when the last scream fades…
No one will forget me again."
The collapsed ridge is a cauldron of black lightning and psychic wails. Emperor Zadkiel advances through the rubble, each step ripping veins of crimson energy from the ground.
Bridge alarms blare at maximum pitch.
Holograms show power readings spiking off every scale.
Dr. Jin (eyes wide, voice cracking):
"Energy output just exceeded Celestial-class thresholds—he's on par with a dying star! If we stay within two klicks, hull integrity fails in ninety seconds!"
Vincent grips the rail, jaw tight.
"All vessels: hard reverse thrusters, angle up to 40°! We pull back to safe altitude, now!"
Seraphina hovers ten metres above the ruins, crimson wings blazing as she funnels shielding aether around retreating soldiers. The aura flickers as Zadkiel's rage erodes it like acid.
Seraphina (straining):
"He's unraveling my wards, GO!"
Below, Don staggers out with a half-conscious Kai over his shoulder; Xiao Ling limps beside them, blood streaking her armor.
Eve ushers med-evac troopers forward while Adam unleashes pillars of Eden-fire to slow chunks of collapsing mountain.
Adam (to Eve, teeth bared):
"Cover flank! If that wave hits us, we're ash."
The Emperor pauses, raises his hand—
A sphere of raw trauma condenses above his palm, screaming faces swirling inside.
He hurls it skyward—
BOOM
A purple-black shockwave expands like a super-nova ring. Airships rock violently; smaller dropships flip end-over-end before stabilizers recover.
Helm Officer (panicked):
"Shields at 14 percent—structural stress critical!"
Vincent:
"Divert all power to engines and shields! We are leaving!"
Resolute's docking claws retract. Mag-tethers yoink the last personnel aboard just as Zadkiel's second pulse detonates the ridgeline, sending boulders the size of houses cartwheeling into the sky.
Seraphina darts through the hatch an instant before the blast sears the bulkhead shut behind her. Adam leaps last, Eden-flames cushioning his landing; Eve hauls him clear as the doors slam.
Dr. Jin (over intercom):
"Firing chaff and quantum-scramblers, buying distance!"
The fleet banks hard, engines flaring white-hot, clawing for altitude. Below, the Emperor's silhouette stands amid a cyclone of debris, glaring up with eyes like twin dying suns.
The med-bay is chaos:
Kai on a cot, ribs wrapped.
Don sitting beside him, silent, knuckles white.
Xiao Ling clutching her glaive, staring out a viewport at the receding ruins.
Vincent (voice low, to Dr. Jin):
"How long until we can strike again?"
Dr. Jin:
"Against that? We don't stand a chance, we retreat now.