The air in the Reverent Palace trembled as silence wrapped the hall like a living thing. The light that once illuminated the vast marble floor dimmed, replaced by a stillness so sharp that even the torches flickered uncertainly. Amandon, the Reverent of Light and Darkness, stood motionless before his throne. His golden eyes narrowed slightly, faint amusement still on his lips—until Roze Apocalypse moved.
Without warning, Roze stepped forward. His fist shot up, a violent streak through the still air— CRACK!
Amandon's head jerked sideways as Roze's punch connected squarely with his jaw. The sound echoed like thunder in the sacred hall. The other Reverents froze. Even Hexos and Mysialsia, who usually wore knowing smiles, blinked in surprise.
Amandon staggered one step back, rubbing his cheek where faint blood trickled. For the first time, his perfect composure faltered.
"...You dare?" he whispered.
Before Roze could speak, Hikari gasped, fury flashing in her eyes. "How dare you touch my lord!" she screamed, running toward him. Her hand struck his face hard—once, twice—each slap resounding across the chamber.
Roze didn't fight back. His head tilted slightly with each blow, but when she stopped, panting, his gaze lifted—cold, defiant, and utterly unshaken.
Blood ran from the corner of his lip. He wiped it away slowly and smirked. "I dare because I've already seen your schemes, Amandon," he said, voice calm and cutting. "You should've known better than to underestimate someone who has accrued life itself."
A ripple of unease passed through the Reverents. Hexos, Mysialsia, Musan, and Agarias exchanged glances—and then, almost simultaneously, they smiled.
It wasn't a kind smile. It was the smile of those who had expected this moment all along.
Amandon's expression hardened. "You speak boldly, Roze Apocalypse. But words without truth are as hollow as mortals' prayers."
Roze tilted his head slightly. "Then let me show you the truth."
He raised one hand, and the air shimmered with a crimson pulse. Space bent, twisting—then from that distortion stepped Life Apocalypse, his white hair glowing faintly, his crimson aura burning like a controlled sun.
Every Reverent's gaze fixed on him. The boy's eyes gleamed with intelligence far beyond his years.
"Father," Life said softly, bowing his head. "Shall I begin?"
Roze nodded once.
Life turned to Hikari, whose eyes narrowed in confusion and fear. "Stay back," she hissed, summoning faint light around her fingertips—but before she could move, Life reached out, his small hand resting against her forehead.
Instantly, the light died. Hikari froze, her pupils dilating. Her body trembled violently as flashes of golden symbols and distorted images burst into her mind—past, present, and future blending together in unbearable waves.
Her voice broke into a scream. "No—no, that can't be—my lord—no!"
Tears streamed down her cheeks as she collapsed to her knees. "Amandon... you lied… you lied to us all…"
Then she fell silent, eyes rolling back as she fainted, crumpling to the marble floor.
The hall remained utterly still.
Amandon's expression shifted from annoyance to something darker. "You overstep your bounds, Roze."
Roze stepped closer, the aura around him intensifying—deep red streaked with faint gold. "You said you'd summon five chosen to rule the world. But I know what your real plan was. Theodre told me everything—about their past lives, their suffering, their manipulated rebirths—and about you."
"Theodre?" Amandon's brows furrowed briefly. "The Reverent of Time? That fool sees only fragments of fate."
"Fragments were enough," Roze replied evenly. "He showed me how your plan ends—with the death of every one of them, and your ascension through their souls. You never meant to share power."
Amandon's voice dropped low. "You're bluffing."
"Am I?" Roze smirked, his tone dripping with quiet venom. "Then why do your own Reverents already look amused instead of loyal?"
Amandon turned slightly—and indeed, Hexos, Mysialsia, Musan, and Agarias were all smiling faintly, watching the exchange like spectators at a long-awaited play.
Hexos spoke first, his tone smooth as silk. "It seems our little king knows how to read between divine lines."
Mysialsia's voice followed, soft and teasing. "Emotion, desire, knowledge, soul... and now life. He's gathered more essence than any mortal—or Reverent—should."
Musan added, almost cheerfully, "He's not bluffing, Amandon. He's already surpassed the limits you set."
Agarias nodded slightly. "And we find it… entertaining."
Roze crossed his arms. "So, Amandon, here's the truth: I don't need to play your games. You will hand me all your authority. I'll take the seat you tried to forge for yourself. Then—perhaps—I'll make a deal worth your survival."
Amandon's teeth clenched. Power rippled through him, light and darkness swirling like twin storms. But even he could feel the shift in the air. The others were already choosing sides.
Before he could respond, Hexos rose from his seat. "Enough of this tension," he said gently, his eyes glowing a deep crimson. "If the boy is destined to carry all burdens, then let us make it so."
Mysialsia followed, raising her hand. "I bless you, Roze Apocalypse," she murmured. "May human desire obey your will."
Musan extended his palm next. "May every soul you touch bow before your control."
Agarias inclined his head. "And may knowledge itself become your weapon and your truth."
Their blessings shone like threads of light, weaving toward Roze, wrapping around him in spirals of crimson, gold, and silver.
One by one, the remaining Reverents began to rise.
Selina's voice carried a chilling sweetness. "Death shall serve your purpose, not end it."
Hanabi smirked faintly. "Beauty and pain—two sides of you. Accept both."
Kaihold, Soverina, Wisind, Jiliana, Sinial and Sebas—all stood, speaking words in languages older than humanity itself. Their power filled the chamber until the palace itself shook.
Even Theodre appeared briefly in the air, his time-marked eyes glowing. "The cycle bends around you," he said. "You are the fracture and the repair."
Finally, Amandon stood still amidst the rising surge of light. His gaze flicked from Hikari's fallen body to Roze's unwavering eyes. For the first time, he hesitated.
Roze smiled faintly. "You can resist, Amandon—but you'll fall just like your puppets."
Amandon's fingers tightened. Then, slowly, he exhaled, raising his hand. "So be it."
His palm opened, releasing twin beams of light—one white, one black. They circled Roze like two serpents and merged with the others' blessings, entering his body.
A surge of energy burst outward, shaking the ground. The ceiling above flared in gold. Roze's aura grew brighter—darker—both divine and monstrous.
And then it appeared: a radiant golden crown-shaped mark burned onto his forehead, glowing like a living sun. It pulsed once, twice, and then stabilized—shimmering with authority that no mortal or Reverent could deny.
The hall fell into reverent silence.
Roze stood in the center of it all, breathing steadily, his eyes glowing faintly red-gold. When he finally spoke, his voice carried the calm of a ruler and the edge of a god.
"Now," he said softly, "the throne of heaven belongs to me."
The Reverents bowed their heads—not out of respect, but out of inevitability.
And Amandon, with his jaw still bruised and pride broken, could only whisper, "So begins the age of Apocalypse."