The void trembled under the storm of our clash.
Each explosion lit the endless darkness with flashes of violet and gold. The pressure was immense, Essence waves tearing through the void.
I weaved through the chaos, my body moving faster and faster.
But Vaelix was fuming in rage as he suddenly shouted.
"Attack them." and started throwing skills at us.
He was relentless, his claws cutting through the void like blades.
Every time I deflected one, another appeared. Behind him, the Feran grandmasters unleashed attacks that painted streaks of red, silver, and black across the battlefield.
"Dante, cover them!" I shouted.
"On it!" His voice rang loudly, and moments later translucent barriers bloomed around Steve and North. Still, the shockwaves tore through everything. Even with all our defenses, the power Vaelix commanded was terrifying.
The portal pulsed brighter with each passing second. It suddenly became unstable, the crimson vortex rippling wildly as though it couldn’t decide whether to pull or destroy everything around it. The suction began to grow, dragging at space itself.
Vaelix’s gaze flicked toward the portal. He knew what was happening too.
He roared, his voice shaking the void. Blood-light erupted from his body, forming markings across his arms and chest. I could feel his Essence spike, he was using his Blood Art again.
"[Blood Art: Roaring Tiger]."
The void screamed. A gigantic spectral tiger head formed behind him, its fangs dripping molten red energy. It lunged forward, locking onto me.
I clenched my jaw and summoned my staff, flooding it with violet Essence.
I slammed the staff down.
"[Collapsing Heaven]".
Essence and Space screamed as a ripple passed and then space tears burst outward, colliding head-on with the charging construct.
BOOM!!!
The impact caused a massive shockwave, the backlash throwing both me and Vaelix backward.
When I regained focus, I realized the pull of the portal had grown stronger, violently stronger. The vortex expanded, sucking in Essence, debris, even shattered fragments of the void itself.
"Everyone! Fall back!" I yelled, but it was too late.
The first to be dragged in were the remaining Feran grandmasters. Their screams echoed as they vanished into the crimson light. Then Ragnar’s roar cut through the chaos before he along with Primus and Anjee, too, were pulled inside.
The suction intensified.
I turned around to reach out toward North and Steve, but the force tore through my grip.
And then, Vaelix’s furious gaze met mine one last time before the crimson light swallowed us both whole.
The world spun as I was pulled into the crimson vortex. There was no up or down, no sense of direction, only motion.
Pressure crushed against my body, twisting Essence and air together. Flashes of light flickered in the red blur around me, worlds, faces, fragments I couldn’t recognize. A deep hum echoed in my head, steady and cold, like a heartbeat that didn’t belong to me.
Then everything stopped.
I felt my boots hit something solid. I staggered forward, catching my breath. When I looked down, I froze.
I was standing on a massive crimson chain. Each link was larger than a house, stretching endlessly in both directions.
The surface was hard but faintly pulsing, like it was alive. When I raised my eyes, I saw more of them, chains crossing each other like bridges in the void, vanishing into the endless dark.
There was no ground, no stars, no sky, just an ocean of nothing and these glowing red chains that went on forever.
"Dante?" I called out. My voice echoed but didn’t return.
No answer.
I tried again, louder this time, "Primus? Ragnar?"
I felt for my connection with Ragnar but could not connect with him.
Nothing. Not even my perception reached them. It was as if the air itself swallowed my signal.
I took a slow step forward. The chain under my feet vibrated, sending a faint hum through my bones. My body tensed. This place wasn’t normal. It didn’t even feel real.
Then, from far above, light appeared.
Two crimson orbs opened in the darkness, burning like twin suns hanging in the void. They didn’t blink, didn’t move but I knew they were looking at me. The air turned heavy, pressing on my chest until I could barely breathe.
I understood what it was.
The voice came next, through everything around me. It was inside the chains, inside my head, and inside the void itself.
"Executor..."
I clenched my fists as the word echoed.
"You bear my burden. You step upon a path written before time."
The chains below me started glowing brighter. Some cracked open, leaking light like molten metal. I felt my heartbeat quicken.
"Will you break the chains... or wear them?"
The last word hit me like a strike. I felt something move inside me, deep in my core, where Essence and life met. It pulsed once, sharp and painful, like it was answering the voice.
The eyes above me burned brighter for a moment, flooding the void in red light. Then, just as suddenly, they closed.
The glow faded. The chains went still.
And I was alone again, standing in the endless void, the echo of that voice still trembling in my mind.
Even without sound, the question lingered in my head like a wound that refused to close.
"Will you break the chains... or wear them?"
I kept staring at the spot where those eyes had been, hoping they would return, hoping they would explain what that meant. But nothing happened. Only the faint hum of the massive chain under my feet remained.
I took a deep breath, though even that felt heavy. A strange fear grew inside me, not the kind that came from facing an enemy, but something deeper. It felt old, buried somewhere in my chest.
What did breaking mean? And what did wearing mean?
The image of those galaxies bound in crimson chains flashed in my mind. Entire worlds trapped and glowing like they were alive... or suffering.
Were those chains what he meant? Was I standing on the same ones that held them?
And if so, what was he asking me to do?
I didn’t know which was worse.
Breaking them sounded like defiance. Rebellion. But wearing them... that felt like surrender.
Was that what the previous Executor did? The man bound in chains, was he the one who chose to wear them?
My hands tightened without me realizing. The thought of ending up like that—bound, silent, forgotten—sent a cold chill crawling up my spine.
Executor.
That word again.
He called me that like it was a title, not just a class. But what did it truly mean?
To execute... to enforce laws... to command Essence. I knew that part.
But this, this felt different. Bigger.
Was an Executor meant to serve something? Or to judge it?
Did I inherit power... or a curse?
The longer I stood there, the more I felt like the chains were whispering. Faint sounds, echoes of voices long gone, maybe remnants of those who came before me. They weren’t words, just fragments. But they made my chest ache.
I looked down at my hands. If this power came from the same source that created these chains... then maybe being an Executor didn’t mean freedom at all.
Maybe it meant carrying the weight of what came before.