Silence stretched between them for several seconds after the old man finished speaking. But Neo wasn't dwelling on the weight of responsibility. Instead, a raw, hot frustration was boiling over.
"So that's it? 'Creators always find their way'? Who are we kidding? I'm not some kid who needs a motivational speech to survive.
Where's the good stuff? Where is it!!!?" Neo's emotions played clearly across his face for the first time since the "chill" had begun controlling him. For some reason, it was gone here, and everything he'd suppressed came rushing back—the grief, the helplessness, the rage. Even his typically blank eyes shone with pure frustration.
The old man's smile didn't fade. Instead, he let out an "Oh!" of realization, his expression indicating he'd just remembered something.
"'Chill'? Do you mean my Emotion-Control Relic that I made?"
He said it so casually that it stole the air from Neo's lungs. 'He read my thoughts?' Neo felt a flash of embarrassment, his head dipping, but then the rest of the sentence registered.
'His' relic. 'He' made it.
Neo's head snapped back up, his expression morphing from shock into something dark and furious. "Do you mean your relic was the thing messing with my emotions…
"No.... no, do you mean 'you' were behind the entire thing?!" By the end, his voice was a growl, vibrating with betrayal. This old man was acting nonchalant about the very force that had neutered his grief, his anger, his very humanity during the most harrowing months of his existence.
"Hmm." The old man nodded, a faintly proud glint in his eyes. "Well, I couldn't just trust you to that rashness of youth. What if you died? Who knew how long it would take for the next successor to be born? I'm too old and tired.
My Emotion-Control Relic has one ability. I actually made it for fun, but here it was, being useful… Hehe." He laughed, a sound that grated on Neo's nerves.
Neo was trembling, holding himself back from launching a futile punch at the mountain of muscle before him. The old man was 'messing' with him, delighting in his frustration.
Seeing Neo's simmering rage, the old man hid a smirk and continued, sounding like a salesman introducing a novelty item. "Pretty fun relic, honestly. You just set a limit, and anything that goes beyond it gets cut off, allowing rational thinking to overcome fear… yes, fear. At least, that was the idea that led me to make it. For my pet."
'For his PET.'
Neo saw red. He took several shuddering, deep breaths, his fists clenched so tight his knuckles turned white beneath the black ink of his tattoos. He had to avoid doing something stupid. He had to get something out of this.
Just as the old man opened his mouth to continue his taunting, Neo forced the words out, each one laced with pent-up fury and a desperate demand for substance.
"So. Is that it? You really don't have anything for me? Like… 'nothing'?"Neo asked knowing that the old creator was reading his mind all along. Still, it was a little embarrasing.
"Hahaha… Okay, okay. I'm done messing with you. That was quite fun, actually." The old man laughed heartily, clutching his stomach as his mirth echoed through the vast hall.
"Now, as much as I can't give you my knowledge on creating relics, or even tell you how to use yours… it doesn't mean I'm leaving you with nothing." He leaned forward, his expression shifting to one of conspiratorial glee. "I'm allowed to share any two relics I made with you. But I've… twisted the rules a little."
He held up a finger. "The first relic I'll give you is a simple one. It has just one ability: a one-way teleportation to the spatial coordinates of my vault."
"I hope I don't have to explain that surviving a teleportation of that distance will require you to become truly strong."
"Try reaching Rank 6 before you even think of activating it. I'd really hate for you to be the first Creator to die from spatial energy storms. It would be a hilarious story for the afterlife, though."
Neo's brief flare of hope was instantly deflated. The vault wasn't something he could raid the moment he left this space.
The old man, seeing his sulking expression, smiled and waved his hand gently. Three glowing orbs of light materialized in the air before Neo, each pulsing with a soft, mesmerizing radiance.
Neo's eyes brightened. "And what are they?"
"Well, I mentioned you get two relics from me. Since the first has been decided… so, go ahead. Pick one of these three. And no, I can't tell you what they are. But they are all equally at the SSS rank, forged by my own hands."
Neo's expression turned serious. He scrutinized each orb, searching for any difference—a hue, a pulse, a whisper of intent. But they were identical. After a long, tense minute, he pointed decisively to the orb in the center.
Immediately, the other two winked out of existence. The chosen orb floated forward, its light condensing, stretching, and solidifying. It took the form of a pitch-black katana in a black scabbard. The entire blade was a void-like darkness, absorbing the light around it, with only the blue textured wrap of the handle offering any contrast.
It floated gently into Neo's waiting hands. The moment his fingers touched the scabbard, a profound chill—different from the emotional suppressant, deeper, more ancient—seeped into his bones. The weight of it was not just physical; it felt heavy with potential, with silent, sharp purpose.
The old man watched, his genial smile touched with something else—pride, perhaps, or memory. "An excellent choice," he said, his voice a low rumble. "That one always did have a taste for decisive souls."
"Beautiful," Neo breathed the word without thinking, captivated by the dark elegance of the blade.
Almost on cue, his cube—Pandora's Forge—suddenly materialized in the air beside him. Unlike its usual, silent repose, it began to orbit the black katana in slow, deliberate circles, humming with a faint, possessive vibration. It felt less like an inspection and more like a wary, jealous guardian scrutinizing a newcomer.
"Hehe… Seems your relic gets jealous, too," Vaughn observed, amused.
It was as if Pandora disapproved, but Neo wasn't about to discard a powerful SSS-rank relic over a little envy. He stroked the sleek scabbard gently, only prompting more intense, agitated vibrations from the floating cube. It was trying to communicate something, but Neo, for now, remained ignorantly enthralled.
"I hope you're satisfied now," Vaughn said, his voice growing softer, his form beginning to shimmer at the edges. "You possess the key to my vault and one of the most interesting relics I ever forged. I'll leave you to discover its ability for yourself. It looks like my time is up… I wish you a great life, my successor. Oh, and don't worry—with this soul projection gone, that little emotion-control relic will stop meddling.
No more 'chill.' So, get strong, as fast as you can. When the Destroyers sense you, you'll need every scrap of power you can muster."
He spoke with a look of serene happiness, his body beginning to dissolve into motes of gentle light.
"Wait!" Neo called out, a sudden urge gripping him. "Sir, you never told me your name. I'd like to know."
The fading figure smiled, a final, bright expression. "I am Vaughn. The 21st Creator in all of existence. Wielder of the Hephaestus creation Relic. The Savage Creator."
Neo repeated the words softly, committing them to memory. "Vaughn… The Savage Creator… Thank you."
"You'll make sure to remember the name, child," Vaughn said, his voice now just an echo in the vast space. "And, have fun. It's really all you can do."
Neo watched as the last remnants of Vaughn's form dissolved into shimmering dust, leaving him alone in the giant hall with a jealous cube.