Chapter 35
The night sky above the ruins of the Scarlet Monolith was unnaturally still—an oppressive, breath-holding quiet, as if the heavens themselves were waiting for something to happen. Orion felt it first: a faint thrum beneath his skin, a vibration so subtle it could have been imagined… yet it carried the weight of an approaching catastrophe.
He stood upon a broken slab of ancient stone, his eight wings half-unfurled, their white feathers tipped in that deep black that drank in light. His gray hair drifted gently as though stirred by unseen tides. Space twisted faintly at his left eye; time rippled like a disturbed river at his right.
Behind him, the world stretched in ruins—colossal trees snapped in half, the sky carved by leftover cracks from his battle with the three pseudo-gods who tried to stop his journey. They were gone now, erased without even ashes left behind.
But the silence that replaced them wasn't peace.
It was anticipation.
A low hum began to echo through the air, like a song sung by distant galaxies. Orion narrowed his eyes.
That sound…
It did not belong to this realm.
And then—
The fabric of reality folded.
Not tearing.
Not breaking.
Simply bowing, as though kneeling to a higher existence.
A figure formed, stepping out from the fold of reality like someone walking through a doorway made of starlight.
Tall.
Wreathed in silver flame.
Their presence bent the space around them into rippling waves.
Orion's grip tightened around his long black blade.
"Finally," the newcomer said, their voice layered with countless echoes. "I found you."
Their face remained hidden behind a mask shaped like an emotionless crescent moon.
Orion said nothing. His wings shifted slightly, a subtle preparation to strike or flee.
"You erased my vessels," the figure continued. "The three who challenged you earlier—they were fragments of me. Not avatars. Not clones. Pieces of my own nature."
A faint smile curved beneath the mask.
"And now you force me to retrieve you personally."
Orion's eyes glowed faintly… and then the stars dimmed.
"Who are you?" he asked, voice calm but carrying a pressure that made the air tremble.
"I am Nous-Severin, the Eighth Outer God," the figure answered. "Watcher of the Last Horizon. And you, Orion… you carry something that belongs to us."
A long pause.
Orion raised his blade.
Nous continued.
"You carry the Eternal Reversal of the Infinite Mountain. A Domain combination that should not exist. It is the key to unlocking the chained world."
A soft laugh.
"We cannot let you reach the peak."
Orion lowered the blade slightly—almost at ease.
"Then," he said, wings spreading wide in towering brilliance, "stop me."
A sudden gale ripped across the battlefield as Nous stepped closer, the pressure of an Outer God's existence pushing everything outward like a collapsing star.
"Orion," Nous murmured, "I am not here to battle you."
Orion's aura darkened instantly.
He did not trust that.
"This realm is collapsing," Nous said. "Not because of me. But because you forced the Stage above what this world can accommodate."
For a moment, the air became fragile.
"The moment you ascend to Stage 0," Nous said quietly, "every Outer God will come. Every Pillar will wake. And the Primordial Laws… will rewrite themselves."
Orion's heartbeat slowed.
He knew that.
He accepted that.
And yet—
Nous raised a hand.
A silver flame spun into a sigil.
"You do not understand the consequences. You will destroy everything you walk upon. The realms you saved. The realms you conquered. Even the realms that feared you…"
"—all of them will break."
Orion stepped forward, expression unchanging.
"They broke me first."
Nous froze.
For the first time, silence didn't feel like anticipation.
It felt like fear.
"You are not the same being we calculated," Nous whispered.
Orion's wings expanded fully, becoming so vast that even the heavens bowed.
"You're right," he said. "I'm worse."
Everything shattered.
The world cracked—not from attack, but from the pressure of two cosmic forces standing too close. Reality knitted itself back together desperately, as if trying to survive their presence.
Nous retreated a step.
"…I see. The others will not believe this unless they witness it themselves."
Orion tightened his grip.
Nous lifted their mask slightly—only enough for Orion to see a single eye burning like the last star in a dead galaxy.
"Orion… when you reach Stage 0…"
A long pause.
"The Ten Outer Gods will freeze.
The remaining Outer Gods will flee.
The Pillars will stop everything they are doing."
Nous snapped their fingers.
The world returned to normal clarity, as if nothing had happened.
But the pressure remained.
"And when that day comes," Nous said slowly, "I will stand with you."
Orion's eyes narrowed.
"You're helping me?"
"No," Nous said.
"I'm choosing the side that survives."
The silver flame around them vanished, and with it, Nous disappeared—leaving behind only a faint echo:
"Ascend, Orion. And witness what even gods fear."
Orion closed his eyes.
The world trembled.
Stage 0 was calling.
And everything—realms, gods, Outer Gods, even creation itself—would soon be forced to kneel.