Chương 157: The Lesser Of Two Dooms

Vale stared upward in horror as the rift continued to widen. It did not merely grow, it devoured the sky around it. Crimson corruption bled outward in jagged waves, staining clouds, sea, and light alike. The ocean beneath screamed in response. Ice shattered violently as the frozen surface cracked apart, massive slabs breaking loose and plunging into the depths below as if the sea itself were panicking, trying desperately to flee what was coming.

The wind howled, and the pressure in the air thickened until every breath felt wrong. Vale's eyes remained wide and unblinking, fixed on the wound in the heavens as it expanded ever further. This was it. Then, cutting through the chaos, a familiar voice echoed within him.

"Damn it, kid." it was Zellion his voice.

"I know I just said I wouldn't bother you again," the voice continued, irritation laced with something sharper, "but you really screwed this one up. What happened?" Vale's gaze dropped to his metallic arm. Its surface faintly vibrated, veins of dormant energy barely visible beneath the plating. His voice trembled as he answered, stripped of any illusion of hope.

"That man," Vale said quietly, "he… let something through." The rift surged in response, as though acknowledging the truth in his words. The air spiraled violently as a storm began to form at the rift's center. Deep crimson clouds churned and folded in on themselves, thick and heavy, as if made not of vapor but of blood. Lightning cracked within them, jagged and wrong, illuminating impossible shapes for fractions of a second. Zellion fell silent. For once, there was no mockery, no amusement.

"…Damn," he muttered at last.

"If I were in my true form, I'd take care of that for you." Vale let out a weak, hollow chuckle and clenched his fist.

"Then just do it," Vale said desperately.

"Take over my body. Kill it." Even as the words left his mouth, he knew how hopeless they sounded. Zellion did not respond immediately. When he finally did, his voice was lower, careful.

"If I did that," Zellion said, "you would die." Vale's shoulders sagged.

"And my master," Zellion added flatly, "would kill me for it." Vale looked down at the floor, numb. His thoughts briefly caught on Zellion's words, true form. For a fleeting moment, his mind wandered, imagining what Zellion might truly look like. A god? A star? Something monstrous? He huffed softly at the absurd images his imagination conjured, then looked back up at the sky. The rift pulsed.

"…Then what will you do?" Vale asked quietly. Zellion paused.

"It'll take about thirty seconds before the rift fully manifests," Zellion said.

"So I've got time to think. Don't stress too much." Vale barked out a dry laugh.

"You talk like this is some weak monster."

"That's because it is," Zellion replied immediately, genuinely confused.

"Do you honestly think I wouldn't be able to beat that?" Vale blinked.

"…Wait. You could?" There was a brief silence.

"…Well," Zellion corrected himself, "you never knew me in my prime. So I guess that assumption makes sense." Vale leaned back against Ember's massive flank, the wyvern unusually calm despite the apocalypse forming overhead. His voice softened, curiosity slipping through the fear.

"Were you really that incredible?" Around them, students collapsed to their knees, despair overtaking them. Even Chrome, eyes wide, systems screaming, was struggling to stand, his body far from recovered. Yet still, he tried. Stolen content alert: this content belongs on Royal Road. Report any occurrences. Zellion chuckled softly.

"Yeah," he said.

"I was." His tone drifted into something reverent.

"I was the first child of my master. An artifact forged in the image of a star, born by his will alone. I still remember the day he created me." Vale listened as the world threatened to end.

"My master wasn't always strong," Zellion continued.

"He was once just a weak human. Like you." Vale smiled faintly.

"One day," Zellion said, "he was fighting a pack of wolves. They tore his arm off. He won, of course, but he was bleeding out." Vale tilted his head.

"Couldn't he just… recover it?" Zellion laughed.

"No. He was still weak, remember? But as he lay there dying, something awakened inside him. Power. The power he used to create me." The arm beneath Vale's sleeve pulsed faintly.

"I became his arm," Zellion said proudly.

"From that moment on. The firstborn of his children. The first Eidolon. The first fragment of the stars." His voice carried a name like a title etched into reality itself.

"Zellion. The Starborn." Vale exhaled slowly.

"…An Eidolon?" he asked.

"You'll find out," Zellion replied lightly.

"For now, just know this, now I serve you. And just like my master, you're going to have to figure some things out yourself." Vale rolled his eyes, already resigned to his fate. Then Zellion's voice sharpened.

"Oh. I figured it out." Vale froze.

"…What?"

"I figured out how you can beat whatever that thing is." Vale shot upright.

"Really?! How?!"

"Well," Zellion said calmly, "Misty won't be needed. But this is the best option we've got." The rift thundered overhead.

"First," Zellion instructed, "walk toward the rift. Then wait for further instructions." Vale didn't hesitate. He stood. Students watched in disbelief as Vale walked forward, alone, toward the edge of the chamber. Crimson wind tore at his clothes, and waves slammed violently against the platform as the rift neared completion. As he passed Chrome, Vale placed a hand on the machine's metallic shoulder. Chrome looked up at him, desperation clear in his eyes. Vale smiled, a gentle, determined smile.

"I've got this." Then he stepped forward again, stopping at the very edge of the chamber as the storm raged and the sky bled. Vale took a deep breath, his eyes narrowing.

"What now?" he asked. Zellion responded before Vale could even steady his breathing. The metallic arm moved on its own again, subtle, deliberate, almost thoughtful, as if it no longer required permission.

"You still have the Scale of Dagon on you, right?" Zellion asked calmly. Vale swallowed hard. He nodded and raised his arm. At Zellion's urging, the prosthetic opened along its seams, unfolding with a soft mechanical hiss. The scale slid free into the arm's grasp, ancient, heavy, and wrong. Even holding it at a distance made Vale's skin prickle. The wind surged violently, tearing at Vale's hair and clothes. A nervous smile crept across his face.

"…What," Vale said shakily, "don't tell me you're about to give me Dagon's power." Zellion let out a low, almost embarrassed chuckle.

"Not exactly." Before Vale could ask what he meant, blue energy began to pour from the arm, deep, radiant and stellar. It flowed into the scale like liquid light, sinking into every crack and fracture within it. The scale reacted instantly. White fissures spread across its surface, glowing brighter and brighter, branching like lightning trapped beneath glass. The ancient relic trembled violently, resonating with something vast and distant. Vale's eyes widened.

"But," Zellion continued calmly, "it is similar." The scale suddenly wrenched itself free. It tore out of Zellion's grasp and shot skyward like a comet, ripping through the storm-torn heavens. The air screamed as it passed, space itself buckling under its speed. Vale staggered back, staring upward in disbelief. The scale stopped, hovering hundreds of meters away, directly opposite the crimson rift.

The distance between them was immense, yet the tension connecting them was palpable, like two loaded weapons aimed at the world.

"Don't tell me…" Vale whispered, dread flooding his voice. Zellion's presence stirred faintly, amusement curling beneath it.

"I needed a transmitter," he said.

"Something tied to a being powerful enough to challenge what's coming. Something I could use to summon them." Vale's blood ran cold. The scale began to change. Reality around it split. A second rift erupted into existence, violent, unstable, and terrifyingly fast. It grew far more rapidly than the first, tearing open the sky as if it were nothing more than thin cloth. Where the first rift bled crimson, this one burned violet and azure.

A storm of impossible lightning exploded outward, twisting violently around the tear in reality. Thunder roared, not as sound, but as pressure, crushing and overwhelming. The sea below churned in absolute panic, waves collapsing inward as if trying to escape the sky itself. Students screamed. Some fell to their knees. Others couldn't even look up. Zellion spoke again, maddeningly calm.

"I'm sure everything will end up fine." Then his voice vanished. The presence in Vale's mind receded completely, leaving him alone once more, full control returned to him as if nothing had happened at all. Vale stood frozen, his eyes wide and unblinking, reflecting two rifts in the sky. Two ends of the world. Slowly, the truth settled in. Zellion hadn't saved them. He had chosen the lesser of two apocalypses. Vale's knees trembled. This was forbidden. This was madness.

No man or woman should ever have done this, because it didn't matter. Because the cost was the same. Because the world could not survive either outcome. Zellion had summoned something worse. The storm intensified, lightning screaming like dying stars as the second rift stabilized. A presence pressed down on the planet, ancient and titanic, despair made flesh. Vale's lips parted soundlessly as the name surfaced in his mind, etched into history by extinction and fire, the Great Dragon of Despair.

The cataclysm that erased half of humanity five hundred years ago. The being no Archon could kill. The terror no weapon could stop. Dagon.