Silence in Saganbo's citadel wasn't quiet; it was the thick, charged quiet before a planet cracks. Amado, his usually vibrant blue skin looking dull and washed-out under the Barrier's eerie, galaxy-trapped light, didn't turn. His focus was inward, processing an impossible absence. "That's bad."
Saganbo didn't shift on his throne of compressed neutron star. Only a single, defiant strand of purple hair stirred against the crushing gravity he radiated. "What is it?" The question was bored, but the power vibrating the air around the dais hinted at impatience.
"Dentetsu," Amado stated, his voice unnervingly flat. "Wiped the First Universe. Fighting something... significant. Total ontological erasure. Not fragmented. Not ruined. Gone. Like it never was."
Saganbo sighed, a sound like continents grinding deep beneath an ocean of void. He tapped a single finger on the armrest. Hairline fractures, impossibly fine, snaked across the neutron-star surface before vanishing instantly, healed by his will. "Damn him." The annoyance was bone-deep, weary. "A force of nature wrapped in apathy. Utterly uncontrollable. He plays with fires even I keep banked for specific... conflagrations." He flicked his wrist dismissively; the light around the gesture warped and bent unnaturally. "Merus can paste it back together later." He leaned back, ancient eyes glinting with cold, detached curiosity. "Did the idiot at least break a sweat? Find a moment's distraction from his crushing boredom?"
Amado remained silent, a statue carved from blue ice contemplating the chilling vista of absolute nothingness where a vibrant universe had spun moments before.
The Sanctuary within the rogue planetoid in the 6th Universe felt suddenly thin, fragile, like ancient parchment stretched over an abyss. Shinji Kazuhiko, attempting to find calm near the luminescent subterranean river, flinched violently, eyes snapping open. Beside him, Merus jerked upright, the soft, healing glow emanating from his wounds flickering out like a snuffed candle. A wave hit them; not sound, not light, but pure, soul-deep wrongness. The chilling echo of something vast and fundamental simply... ceasing. A cold, sucking vacuum opened in the fabric of existence itself.
"Yeah," Shinji breathed, the word tight, knuckles white on his knees. He pushed himself up, every nerve ending screaming. "Felt that. Monstrous. Like the universe just... hiccuped into nothing."
Merus paled visibly beneath his cerulean hue. The residual energy around his wounds sputtered and died completely. "Not a Monarch," he murmured, his voice strained, laced with a dread Shinji had never heard before. "They break. They shatter. They unravel. They occasionally end universes but... they don't... unmake like that. Not effortlessly." He met Shinji's stare, his glacial eyes reflecting a chilling, absolute truth. "Worst case? Saganbo stretched his legs. Flexed his true nature."
Shinji's blood turned to liquid nitrogen in his veins. Monarchs were nightmares. Saganbo flexing? That was the end of all stories. "That's... really, really bad." The understatement hung in the damp air like a tombstone.
"Hey."
The voice was casual. Utterly bored. It came from directly behind them.
Time didn't freeze. It shattered. Shinji's finely honed danger sense, the one that screamed multiple times alerting him over and over again, didn't spike. It simply... flatlined. Not only Shinji but Act 2 itself was hopeless. Cold, hard futility washed over him, drowning everything else. The pressure hit like a collapsing star, an invisible, physical weight slamming down, crushing the breath from his lungs, crushing coherent thought into dust.
They turned, movements slow, stiff, agonizingly deliberate, like figures trapped in hardening concrete.
He stood there, framed by the cavern entrance. Spiky, unkempt dark hair. Bare, muscular chest. Simple, worn chinos. Dentetsu. He wasn't imposing like Daganu's armored bulk; he was inevitable, like gravity given sentient, indifferent form. His brown eyes scanned them with the detached interest of a scientist observing insignificant insects under a microscope.
"So," he said, his voice unnervingly clear in the suffocating silence his presence created. "The Trascender." It wasn't a question. It was a simple, flat statement of observed fact. Like noting the weather.
Merus shuffled back half a step, his body instinctively angling to partially shield Shinji. "That's not Saganbo..." Terror roughened his usually resonant voice, stripping it bare. "What is he? I felt his... resonance... echoing across five universes... how did he traverse that void instantly?" The sheer violation of distance, the effortless folding of reality, was as terrifying as the entity himself.
Shinji forced air past the crushing weight in his chest. His voice came out a rasp. "Who the hell are you?"
Dentetsu tilted his head slightly, a ghost of something that might have been vague amusement touching his lips. "Monarch. Label's kinda eh, honestly, but whatever. Does the job." He waved a dismissive hand; the space around it visibly rippled and warped, like heat haze over a desert. "Relax. Not here to fight. You're..." His gaze flicked briefly over Shinji's faintly glowing fists, the golden-green shimmer of Act 3 energy unconsciously coiling in response to the threat. "...not worth the effort right now... Even that little saviour might have been something in comparison..." The dismissal was devastatingly clinical, devoid of malice or even condescension. Just pure, detached assessment.
Shinji swallowed hard. His danger sense remained terrifyingly, unnervingly calm. Not alarmed. Not even buzzing. Just... aware. Aware of standing on the crumbling edge of an infinite abyss. "Got it," he managed, the words scraping his throat. "Sense isn't even twitching. Just... numb."
Dentetsu nodded, utterly indifferent. "Right. Off to the 3523rd. Got some space-rocks to rearrange. Try not to get dusted before we get a chance to dance." Space folded around him seamlessly, not with a bang or a flash, but with a soft, almost polite shhk, like expensive fabric being neatly tucked away. One moment, the immovable object radiating cosmic indifference stood before them; the next, only the crushing weight of his absence remained, leaving behind frantic heartbeats pounding against ribs and the damp chill of the cavern suddenly feeling very, very cold.
Shinji sagged forward, gasping, sucking in great lungfuls of the suddenly breathable air. Sweat slicked his skin, cold despite the cavern's ambient temperature. Merus slumped heavily against the damp rock wall, luminous blood welling anew from the stress on his injuries. "Smart move," he rasped, his voice trembling slightly. "Picking a fight then..." He shuddered, unable to articulate the sheer magnitude of the power they'd just witnessed. "He's... playing in Saganbo's league. Or dancing dangerously close to the edge of it. That was no Monarch power. That was... something else."
Shinji shuddered, the phantom pressure lingering in his bones. "Couldn't move. Couldn't even breathe right. He's... something else entirely." The memory of Khoseph now seemed like a playground bully fight and even Kokuto, the terrifying Swordwrath who had slaughtered his family, now felt like a distant, almost manageable nightmare compared to the sheer existential dread Dentetsu inspired.
Across the vast, indifferent tapestry of the multiverse, other gears ground into motion, driven by Saganbo's will and Amado's cold calculations.
2338th Universe:
Space tore open with a violent, silent rip. Nirvana and Torento, Saganbo's designated hunter Monarchs materialized amidst the swirling chaos of ion storms and colliding nebulae. Continuing their long journey.
8th Universe:
Shirou cursed fluently, fiddling with the thermal dampeners on his custom rifle's scope under the sickly, dying light of a collapsed star. His distinctive waist-length hair, a cascade of white shot through with molten gold and deep crimson, whipped around his face in the stellar wind generated by the decaying system. His sophisticated sensors whined and clicked uselessly, the signal frustratingly elusive. "Stubborn little spark," he grumbled, smacking the side of the scope. "Messin' with my payday." The 'payday'; a reluctant deal forged in the tense silence after a beating. So, Shirou continues his way onwards to the 10Th Universe while he mutters how weak he is.
"Need allies, Shinji, friends if you will," Merus stated bluntly days later, leaning against the crystalline control console of the Stardust Weaver. Outside the viewport, the ship sliced through vibrant nebulas that pulsed like living, cosmic paintings; swirling vortexes of emerald, amethyst, and crimson light. "Not a luxury. Not an option. Oxygen in the suffocating vacuum Saganbo's creating around us. Amado's lies spread faster than gamma-ray bursts, poisoning whole systems against you. We need sanctuaries, places to breathe. Distractions to fracture their gaze, scatter their focus."
Shinji watched a colossal gas cloud twist and contort, momentarily forming the shape of a vast, spectral leviathan before dissolving back into chaos. "Why here? Why not head for the big leagues? The farther universes? I bet they got more heavy hitters."
Merus manipulated a complex holographic star map, the swirling galaxies of the 6th Universe resolving into sharp detail. "Proximity. Potency. Chaos." He pointed. "The farther universes; they hold immense power, yes. But they're distant fortresses. Their rulers? Isolationists, bound by eons-old pacts, or actively hostile entities steeped in their own agendas. Amado's roots are deep there, his influence hard to dislodge. They're really close to Saganbo's domain, The 3523rd Universe. The 6th..." He zoomed in on a cluster of vibrant, young stars. "...it's a forge. Young. Dynamic. Wildly unpredictable. Powers ignite like supernovae and fade just as fast. Amado's carefully crafted narratives struggle to take root before the sheer, chaotic dynamism burns them away. Things change too fast for his whispers to fully settle. Not to mention it's our best bet amongst the closer ones," A flicker of the old, weary hope touched his eyes. "And... it holds sparks. Echoes of defiance. Beings who remember the original song of Creation, before Saganbo's static drowned the harmony."
Their journey became a grim, relentless dance of evasion and disillusionment. Planet after planet met them not with curiosity or caution, but with immediate, pre-programmed violence fueled by Amado's insidious propaganda.
Ignis Vault; A world of colossal, floating geo-thermal islands adrift on a churning sea of molten rock. Jagged obsidian spires erupted from the islands, housing crystalline cities. Before the Weaver could finish its standard hail of peace, sleek, crystalline skiffs shot from hidden bays, firing searing lances of thermal energy without warning. Shinji, propelled by Voidheart-enhanced speed, became a blur. He didn't fight; he disabled, darting between skiffs faster than targeting systems could track, delivering precise, concussive taps to engines and weapon mounts. The skiffs sputtered, dead in the thermal currents, leaving bewildered pilots staring at their useless controls.
Veridian Weave; A sentient forest planet, its surface a single, continent-spanning organism of colossal, bioluminescent trees and pulsating fungal networks. As the Weaver entered high orbit, clouds of iridescent pollen, saturated with Amado's fabricated warnings; *Shinji Kazuhiko: The Chaos Child*, detached from the canopy and surged towards the ship, seeking to infiltrate systems and sow panic. Merus's face tightened. He raised a hand, not in attack, but in cleansing. A pulse of pure, focused starlight emanated from him, washing over the pollen clouds. The malicious intelligence within dissolved; the pollen drifted harmlessly apart, becoming mere dust motes in the solar wind.
The Chrysalis Fields; A cluster of hollowed asteroids transformed into lush, enclosed garden habitats by biomechanical symbiotes. The Weaver approached a trade hub asteroid. Docking clamps extended... then retracted violently. Hatches on the asteroid irised open, and warrior-drones – sleek, chitinous constructs with glowing optical sensors – emerged, moving with unnerving synchronicity. Their sensors locked onto the Weaver, flashing hostile crimson. They attacked in a coordinated wave, plasma cutters humming. Shinji met them head-on, a whirlwind of controlled motion. He didn't kill; he dismantled. He flowed through their formations, using minimal force; precise deflections, joint locks, targeted disarming strikes. The clash of their alloy limbs against his hardened skin echoed in the silent docking bay as drones clattered to the deck, immobilized but intact.
"Amado's poison works fast, that bastard," Shinji noted grimly, watching the faint golden shimmer fade from his forearm where a plasma bolt had glanced off moments before. "Planting a scary story in their heads, and they shoot first. No questions asked."
"Saganbo's oldest and most useful tool," Merus agreed, his voice heavy. He guided the Weaver smoothly away from the disabled drones, setting a new course towards a specific star pulsing with a unique, calming luminescence. "Fear of the unknown, weaponized. But light," he added, that flicker returning, "always finds cracks. We just need to find the folks who haven't swallowed the lie whole."
Luminara. As the Stardust Weaver dropped out of superluminal travel, the view from orbit stole Shinji's breath. It wasn't just a planet; it was a world sculpted from captured starlight and profound, resonant peace. Continents weren't solid land; they were vast, slow-moving swirls of turquoise, emerald, and deep amethyst light, like currents in a calm, cosmic sea. Oceans reflected the gigantic sun not as sparkles, but as a seamless, shimmering mirror stretching to the horizon. The very atmosphere glowed with a soft, pervasive radiance, pulsing gently, rhythmically, like the slow heartbeat of a slumbering giant. Clouds drifted not as vapour, but as luminous, slow-moving vapour trails of pure light. The overwhelming feeling was serenity; a profound, resonant balance that seemed woven into the fabric of the world itself.
The Weaver descended silently, its passage disturbing nothing. It touched down on a wide platform of what looked like solidified moonlight near a coastal settlement. The structures here weren't built; they seemed organically grown from the ambient harmony; sweeping arches resembling frozen musical notes, dwellings shaped like perfect resonant chords sculpted in light, pathways that flowed with soft, liquid radiance. The air was cool, crisp, and hummed faintly with a deep, harmonious frequency that vibrated pleasantly in Shinji's bones. The inhabitants, luminous humanoids with skin that occasionally rippled with soft iridescent patterns, moved with an effortless, flowing grace. Their large, calm eyes reflected the ambient glow, radiating tranquility.
An elder, his form etched with intricate patterns resembling visualized soundwaves made of light, approached. Recognition dawned in his deep, resonant eyes as they settled on Merus. He bowed, a movement as smooth and flowing as a perfect cadence. "Merus. The harmony brings your resonance back to our shores. The debt of the Silent Chorus endures. Luminara welcomes you, and your resonance-bearer." His gaze shifted to Shinji, open, curious, and utterly untouched by Amado's distortion field here, at the universe's quiet edge.
Relief, warm and profound, washed over Shinji. It was more than just a safe landing; it felt like stepping into a sanctuary woven from light and song.
The days that followed were a deep, healing breath for their weary souls. Shinji walked the humming pathways, marveling at how light and sound intertwined, forming solid yet beautiful structures that seemed alive. He swam in lagoons where liquid light responded to thought and emotion, forming ephemeral sculptures that danced around him. He learned the Luminaran art of resonance meditation, sitting beneath crystalline trees that chimed softly in the breeze, attempting to harmonize the volatile, often discordant symphony of his own evolving power, the sharp notes of grief and terror, with the planet's deep, serene frequency. It was a struggle, but the calm was infectious. Merus, though still visibly weakened, drew palpable strength from the ambient harmony. His wounds knitted faster, the luminous blood ceasing to seep, replaced by healthier-looking cerulean skin. The deep lines of strain on his ageless face softened slightly.
One tranquil evening, drawn by laughter like crystal bells harmonizing perfectly, Shinji and Merus found themselves near a natural amphitheater formed from solidified sonic waves. Three figures stood out amidst the fluid movements of the Luminarans.
Miryoku who's about Shinji's height, maybe a touch shorter. She radiated a contained, effortless grace. Her most striking feature was her hair; a stunning cascade of pure, shimmering white, like captured moonlight or spun starlight, flowing a little past her neck. She wore a jacket of soft, iridescent rose-gold fabric that subtly shifted hues with her every movement, over simple trousers and a tunic the deep, swirling color of peaches. Her eyes, large and expressive, were a striking violet, holding an intelligence that was both sharp and profoundly calm, like deep, still water. She observed Luminaran children weaving intricate patterns of light in the air with gentle, encouraging smiles.
Tina who's taller, easily matching Merus's height, radiating vibrant, kinetic energy that was a counterpoint to Miryoku's calm. Her fiery orange hair was a defiant, spiky crown. Practicality defined her attire: snug, durable dark trousers, sturdy boots built for rough terrain, and bandages wrapped securely around her chest serving as her top, revealing defined musculature. A worn, grey shirt was tied loosely around her hips. Her grin was wide, infectious, and seemed permanently etched on her face. Warm amber eyes scanned everything around her with lively, unabashed curiosity.
Wess who's noticeably shorter, with a slight build. Messy black hair fell into shy, dark eyes that rarely lifted from the ground for long. He wore a simple black shirt and trousers, hovering just behind Miryoku's shoulder like a quiet shadow or a protective satellite. He seemed perfectly content to observe, absorbing the scene without actively participating, a silent counterpoint to Tina's vibrancy.
Shinji felt an immediate, instinctive pull, not romantic, but visceral. His Trascender senses, heightened by constant vigilance and Voidheart Surge, prickled intensely. He subtly nudged Merus. "Her," he murmured, nodding almost imperceptibly towards Miryoku. "The white hair. The depth of her energy... It's great. Not loud or flashy. Like a still ocean... hiding lost universes beneath the surface. Really goes well with the planet..." He could feel it; a serene wellspring of spiritual power radiating calm, controlled potency. It felt pure, harmonized, fundamentally anchored compared to the chaotic fury he knew in Monarchs or the volatile surge within himself.
Merus's cool, ancient eyes followed Shinji's gaze, studying Miryoku with deep, focused assessment. A rare flicker of profound respect touched his lips. "Dead on," he murmured back, his voice low. "Your senses are sharpening. Her control... it's flawless. Impeccable. It's not just power she holds; she resonates with it completely. Perfect spiritual integration. That level of unity is rarer than a stable singularity. She's not just strong; she's a natural adept. She's got obscene control over her energy."
Tina, ever observant, spotted their attention. She elbowed Miryoku playfully, her wide grin stretching even further. "Hey, Star-Girl! Check it out! The off-worlders are totally checking out your vibe!" She winked boldly at Shinji and Merus.
Miryoku flushed a delicate rose-gold that matched the shifting hues of her jacket. "Tina! Seriously, shush! It's not like that!" Her voice, when she spoke, was soft but carried perfectly, clear and melodious like a perfectly struck silver chime. She offered Shinji and Merus a graceful, fluid bow. "Please, just ignore her. She's... got the volume cranked way up today."
Tina threw her head back and laughed, the sound bright and echoing in the amphitheater. "Only 'cause it's a fantastic volume! I mean you're sexy anyone would be drooling for you..." Merus and Shinji stand there as they dismiss the thought with their hand movements. "That's not it... We're" Merus says before he gets cut off by Tina. "Yeah it's clear you weren't going for that you were checking out her energy weren't you? Besides," she gestured dramatically towards Miryoku, "someone's gotta brag for her! She's easily the strongest thing on this rock! If she'd ever stop being so fucking chill!" She poked the quiet boy beside her. "Back me up here, Wess! Right?"
Wess flinched slightly at the contact, shrinking back a fraction. "She's... really good," he mumbled, his voice barely audible, eyes fixed on his feet. "Strong."
Miryoku shook her head, her cascade of starlight hair shimmering with the movement. "Tina's just full of hot air. I just... vibe here. Try to keep the peace." Her violet eyes met Shinji's, holding a quiet, unwavering sincerity. "I love Luminara. This harmony... it's home. I protect it. That's all."
In the small silence of the room Miryoku flinched as she realized. "I'm sorry. We forgot to introduce ourselves... Bad manners hahaha!" She then bows gracefully and smiles "I'm Ooka Miryoku nice to meet you!" Shinji smiles back as Merus seems a little intrigued. "Name's Mizoha Tina and this little wuss here is Oruta Wess." Tina introduces herself and the little boy with her and Miryoku point to him.
Shinji felt the sincerity, the deep connection. He stepped forward. "Shinji Kazuhiko," he said, offering a respectful bow mirroring Miryoku's. "This is Merus." He met Miryoku's calm violet gaze directly. "Tina was it? might be exaggerating the planet-cracking part," he offered a small, wry smile, "but she's not totally wrong about the strength. What you've got... it feels deep. Solid. The most impressive part is your sheer control over your spiritual energy." He took a breath. "We're traveling. Looking for help. Against something... huge. Vast. A threat that makes planets look like dust motes." He saw the flicker of apprehension in her eyes, the slight tightening around them. "Someone like you... that kind of calm strength? It could be a game-changer. A vital counterpoint you know?"
Miryoku's gaze drifted down to the softly humming patterns in the amphitheater floor. For a fleeting moment, Shinji saw it; a flash of intense longing, a yearning for distant stars and unheard melodies. Then, resolve firmed her features. "Thanks. I mean that. Really." She looked back up, her violet eyes meeting Shinji's deep stellar blue. "But... this is my world. Its song, its quiet rhythm... it's everything. I'm..." She hesitated, the word catching. "...scared. Scared to leave this bubble. Scared of how loud, how chaotic it is out there." She gestured towards the starlit sky visible beyond the amphitheater's open roof. "Traveling... seeing new places, hearing alien symphonies... it does sound amazing. It always has." A small, wistful smile touched her lips, tinged with sadness. "But... not now. Not this movement. My place is right here."
Merus nodded slowly, deep understanding etched into his ageless face. "Even if the harmony called her, Shinji," he said gently, "her father, Ooka Kaito, would likely silence the very stars to keep her safe. He guards Luminara's isolation like a dragon guards its hoard. He remembers the cacophony, the discord that exists beyond their system's resonance. He is your father isn't he? "
Miryoku nodded, a flicker of empathy for her father's protectiveness in her eyes. "Dad... worries about the melody being broken. And honestly? He's got reason. The symphonies out there... they're complex, often harsh. Dissonant." She hugged her arms briefly, a gesture that suddenly seemed vulnerable despite the power Merus perceived within her. "I've... never even left Luminara's atmosphere. Never felt true vacuum. Never seen another sun up close." She offered a fragile smile. "Maybe... someday. In a later movement."
As she spoke; her voice soft, earnest, stripped of pretense, her eyes wide with that potent cocktail of fear and deep, untapped curiosity; a sharp, unexpected lance of memory pierced Shinji's heart. Kiyomi. Not the fierce martial artist sister he'd lost, but Kiyomi at eight, clutching his sleeve the night before their father left for another long overseas project, her voice small and hesitant: 'I like the dojo, Shinji. It's safe here. Familiar. The world outside... it's too big. Too many scary things. Maybe... when I'm stronger... when I'm ready...' The echo was so poignant, so unexpected, it tightened his throat and blurred his vision for a split second. Kiyomi's younger, apprehensive face seemed to blend with Miryoku's serene features for a heartbreaking moment.
He smiled then, a genuine warmth softening the harsh lines that cosmic war and grief had etched onto his face. "I get it," he said, his voice gentle, understanding. Something Merus felt for the first time from Shinji. "Home... it's a unique song. A specific harmony. Worth protecting with everything you've got. Worth loving fiercely." He remembered Kiyomi's radiant, unguarded smile when their father finally returned, the comforting, predictable rhythm of their shared training sessions in the familiar dojo. "When the right movement comes... when you're ready... the resonance inside you will guide the way. You'll know."
Miryoku's answering smile was like dawn breaking over a still ocean; tentative at first, then spreading, luminous, filled with relief and a spark of shared understanding. "Thanks, Shinji. Really."
Tina clapped her hands together, the sharp sound cutting through the moment. "Okay! Enough deep space philosophy! Saving the galaxy's officially tabled! Prism Falls! Right now! Best light-puddle in the whole sector! Wess; stop lurking, grab the floaty glowy things! Let's move!"
Wess jumped slightly at the command but immediately fumbled in a pouch at his hip, pulling out several softly pulsating, self-illuminating orbs. The next hour was pure, unadulterated respite. They walked the gently humming paths towards a nearby canyon. The destination took Shinji's breath away: waterfalls weren't cascading water, but torrents of solidified, ever-shifting light; liquid auroras pouring over cliffs, casting rainbows that danced in the mist. Pure magic.
Merus, perhaps feeling the planet's healing touch or simply the need for lightness, stretched out a hand. With subtle gestures, he wove strands of ambient starlight into ephemeral, shimmering bird-shapes. They darted and swooped around Tina, singing tiny, pure notes that harmonized with the falls. Tina shrieked with genuine, infectious laughter, trying to catch the elusive light-birds. Shinji, shedding layers of tension he hadn't realized he carried, used his Voidheart speed not for combat, but for pure joy. He became a streaking blur, leaving dazzling golden-green after-images that hung in the air. Miryoku, laughing softly, joined in, her subtle light-manipulation causing the falling light to swirl and dance around Shinji's after-images, weaving intricate, temporary patterns of incredible beauty. Luminaran children, drawn by the spectacle, joined in, adding their own simple light-play, apparently something that Miryoku was teaching them since Miryoku is known as an amazing light manipulator, Something that she shaped using her amazing fondamental control over energy; gasping in delight at the collaborative display. Even Wess, coaxed by Tina's enthusiastic shouts, cracked a tiny, shy smile as he sent his glow-orbs bobbing in complex, synchronized patterns through the cascading colors of the Prism Falls. Miryoku watched it all, her violet eyes soft, reflecting the shared joy, a serene presence anchoring the moment.
Later, Tina dragged them to Luminara's famed attraction: the Stellar Stream, touted as the universe's fastest roller coaster; a twisting, plunging river of solidified starlight. As it launched, Tina whooped with exhilaration, arms flailing, while Wess clutched the safety bar, eyes wide with silent terror, emitting tiny, strangled squeaks. Miryoku, seated between them, held on with focused calm, her white hair streaming, a serene smile playing on her lips as she observed the rushing light-scape. Shinji and Merus, however, sat utterly still in the front car. Shinji drummed his fingers on the restraint, Merus raised a single, unimpressed eyebrow. "This is... it?" Shinji murmured over the simulated wind-rush. "Feels like a crawl." With a mischievous glint in his stellar blue eyes, Shinji channeled a minuscule, invisible pulse of Act 3 energy; not to break anything, just to nudge the coaster's inherent kinetic field. The effect was instantaneous and catastrophic to the ride's advertised speed: the Stellar Stream didn't accelerate; it teleported through its track segments. The world became a violent, nauseating smear of light and force. Tina's joyous scream cut off abruptly as her eyes rolled back. Wess simply went limp beside her. Miryoku's perfect composure shattered; a raw, ear-piercing scream ripped from her throat, her violet eyes wide with absolute, universe-shattering panic as the world dissolved into incomprehensible speed. Shinji grinned. Merus sighed. The ride ended seconds later to find Tina and Wess unconscious in their seats, and Miryoku trembling, gasping for breath, her face pale, staring at Shinji with a mixture of betrayal and utter shock.
For a brief, precious interval, the cosmic war, the hunt, the terrifying power of Monarchs and Gods, felt like a distant, half-remembered nightmare.
But... A few hours later... The fragile peace detonated.
A sound ripped across the sky; a SKY-TEARING METALLIC SCREECH that vibrated teeth and bones. It was instantly obliterated by a KRA-BOOOOOM! so vast it felt like the planet itself had been punched. The ground bucked violently under their feet. The deep, harmonious hum of Luminara fractured into a deafening, discordant static shriek. The glowing pathways beneath them cracked like glass. The Prism Falls flickered wildly, their vibrant colors bleeding into chaotic, staticky grey before plunging into darkness.
Tina's laughter died mid-peal, choked off. A raw, primal scream ripped out of her throat, fueled by instant recognition. "THE CENTER! IT HIT; THE HARMONY HUB!" Her finger stabbed towards the horizon, towards the pulsing heart of the largest light-swirl continent.
Instinct, honed by countless battles and near-death experiences, kicked in before thought could follow. Shinji vanished in a streak of intense gold-green light, propelled by Voidheart Surge. Merus became a comet of focused cerulean energy, shooting skyward. Miryoku moved with shocking speed, slicing through the suddenly panicked air. Tina and Wess scrambled after her, faces etched with terror, pushing their bodies to the limit. They raced through streets plunged into chaos, past Luminarans whose serene light-patterns were shattered into frantic, discordant flashes, the air filled with the agonizing shriek of breaking resonance and panicked cries.
They crested the final ridge overlooking the Central Harmony Hub; the spiritual and physical heart of Luminara. It was a breathtaking confluence of structures seemingly grown from solidified symphonies, their forms radiating complex harmonies, centered around a vast plaza that pulsed with the planet's core light, a beacon of peace. Or, it had been.
Now, a screaming wound defiled its center. A vast, raw crater, easily half a kilometer wide, smoked violently, radiating waves of palpable wrongness. At its edges, molten energy, not rock, sizzled and spat corrosive sparks, eating into the harmonic crystal. Beautiful structures lay shattered, their resonant forms broken into jagged, dissonant shards. The horrified crowd gathered at the crater's edge wasn't staring at the massive destruction. They weren't even staring at the still-smoking, jagged hunk of asteroid embedded deep within the crater's heart, radiating unnatural heat.
Their collective gaze, frozen in abject, paralyzing terror, was locked onto the thing standing casually atop the smoldering wreckage of their world's heart.
It was vaguely humanoid, but forged from pure, entropic dissonance to Luminara's luminous beauty. Its hide wasn't skin; it was composed of thick, jagged, interlocking plates of deep null-stone, a material that seemed to actively suck the surrounding light and harmony into a void, leaving deeper shadows in its wake. Where joints should be, swirling vortexes of sickly, pulsating crimson energy throbbed, casting jagged, malevolent shadows that seemed to physically bite at the ambient light. Its head was a smooth, featureless obsidian dome. A single vertical slit ran down its center, emitting a thin, intensely cold, actinic white beam that scanned the terrified crowd with slow, mechanical, predatory indifference. It stood easily three meters tall, radiating palpable waves of null-energy that warped the air around it into visible heat haze and silenced the planet's resonant hum in an ever-expanding circle of eerie quiet. One massive clawed hand, fashioned from the same light-eating null-stone, rested casually on the steaming asteroid surface. The other hung loosely at its side, energy crackling with disruptive static around its talons.
It didn't move. It didn't roar. It didn't acknowledge the destruction or the terror. It simply existed; a shard of pure, entropic silence, jagged darkness, and anti-harmony violently rammed into the very core of Luminara's world of light and song. The embodiment of everything this peaceful planet wasn't.
Miryoku stopped dead at the ridge's edge, her violet eyes widening. But it wasn't just terror Shinji saw flash there; it was a dawning, white-hot, protective fury igniting like a supernova, burning away the last vestiges of her peaceful serenity. Tina gasped, a choked sound, instinctively grabbing Wess's arm, her face drained of color. Shinji felt his Voidheart Surge erupt in response to the overwhelming, palpable threat, his fists clenching so tight his knuckles popped, intense gold-green energy flaring violently around him like a corona. Merus hovered beside him, his face a mask of grim stone, swirling creation energy coalescing instantly into a shimmering shield of pure, defensive starlight, his ancient gaze locked with intensity on the null-stone horror standing amidst the ruin.
Silence. Thick, choking silence, the acrid smell of ozone and melted crystal, and the entity's own low, grinding hum.