When a Filipino got isekai with Twist
"Only i can summon those!"
Chapter 20: You
The rift tore open wider — like the heavens themselves were being peeled apart.
Reality shivered. Oceans roared though they were miles away. The air screamed.
Lyra could barely breathe inside her cockpit, the pressure from the rift pressing against her chest. Mephistopheles was nowhere to be seen — only the flicker of his crimson chains vanishing into the storm.
Then — light.
Pure, golden light.
From the fractured sky, divine symbols began burning across the void. Four massive sigils appeared like celestial seals, each glowing with its own radiance — one gold, one crimson, one sapphire, one green.
"Metatron," Lyra gasped, "what's that?"
The AI's tone shifted — reverent, almost fearful.
"Divine energy signatures… confirmed. Pantheon-level."
A voice boomed across the battlefield — deep, commanding, and old.
"Enough!"
The voice cracked the clouds. The rift's expansion halted midair. The ground, shattered by the earlier quake, trembled again — but this time under divine presence.
Descending through the golden tear came four figures, wreathed in light.
The first — Lycana, the Goddess of Time, her white hair flowing endlessly like threads of fate. Around her, broken seconds shimmered like shards of glass.
Beside her, Antares, the God of War, landed with a thunderous impact — his armor forged from the first flame of creation, a massive crimson halberd burning in his grip.
Floating just behind, Cique, the God of Knowledge, adjusted his crystalline mask as glowing runes orbited him, decoding the chaos spilling from the rift.
And lastly — Dern Riona, Goddess of Life and Nature, her presence calming the storm as vines of light spread across the cracked ground, healing whatever her aura touched.
Lycana raised her hand toward the rift. "Seal it. Now."
Antares slammed his weapon into the earth — divine sigils spread outward like a burning net.
Cique began chanting, his runes weaving into complex equations of light.
Dern knelt, pressing her palm to the dirt — the planet itself responding to her touch.
For a moment, it seemed they might succeed.
The rift pulsed, shrieking — then started to close.
Until a voice — slick, smooth, and mocking — cut through the air.
"Well, that's not very fair, is it?"
The gods froze.
A figure stepped out from the smoke, wearing a torn, half-melted coat — his grin sharp, his eyes glowing faint blue.
Frank Abigneil.
Lyra's heart dropped.
"Frank…? But— you— Josh killed you—"
Frank laughed softly. "Killed a clone, sweetheart." He spread his arms, motioning to the carnage around him. "You didn't really think the Chameleon of Sins dies that easily, did you?"
Antares took a step forward, his aura flaring like a burning sun. "You dare stand before gods, mortal?"
Frank smirked. "Mortal? Oh, no… not anymore."
He flicked his fingers — and several portals burst open behind him.
One by one, figures stepped out.
Jack the Ripper. Ted the Butcher. Josef Mengele.
And more — the rest of the Anti-Hero Legion, resurrected through Frank's twisted arts.
Lyra's cockpit shuddered as her sensors went wild.
Metatron's voice turned sharp. "Warning: multiple high-level resurrection signatures detected. Anti-hero faction confirmed."
Frank brushed his hair back, watching the gods channeling their power into the seal.
"Tsk tsk… you're trying to stop something you don't even understand."
Then his grin widened. "Good thing I do."
Before Lycana could react, Frank moved.
He was suddenly at Xandros' side — the half-corrupted warrior still kneeling beneath the rift, his body trembling, aura spilling like ink.
"Poor boy," Frank whispered. "You did your part beautifully. Bought me all the time I needed."
Xandros lifted his head weakly, his form cracking apart. "Y—you… used me…?"
Frank smiled kindly. "Of course I did."
Then he pressed his hand against Xandros' chest — and absorbed him.
Lyra screamed, "No!"
The battlefield erupted. Xandros' essence — divine, corrupted, and fused with Outer energy — flowed into Frank like molten gold and shadow. His body convulsed, veins glowing with shifting colors. His laughter grew deeper, layered, monstrous.
Antares charged instantly, swinging his halberd. "You've gone too far!"
Frank caught the weapon mid-swing with his bare hand — divine flames burning across his arm. But instead of pain, he grinned wider.
"Now this…" he said, eyes glowing with infinite reflections, "…this feels right."
Cique's runes shattered as his calculations failed to define what Frank had become. "Impossible… his form—his soul is merging with an Outer resonance and divine fragments simultaneously—"
"Translation," Lycana hissed, pulling her timeblade free, "he's becoming something beyond either."
Frank turned toward her, his aura flaring so violently that even the gods staggered.
"Exactly."
He spread his arms. The absorbed energy from Xandros flared around him like a corona of chaos.
"Why settle for being a pawn… when I can be the next god?"
The rift responded to him — pulsing faster, hungrier.
The Outer shadow began to descend again.
And Frank smiled at the gathering gods.
"Come on, then," he whispered.
"Let's see if your divinity can handle a Chameleon."
The ground exploded. Antares roared, Lycana reversed time for half a second to dodge, Cique unleashed ancient knowledge seals, and Dern Riona called on nature itself — but Frank stood against them all, every blow reflected, mimicked, twisted back.
Lyra could only watch from her cockpit, trembling.
Metatron's voice quivered.
"Commander… I think we've just entered a war between gods."
Frank's laughter echoed through the collapsing sky.
The rift widened again — now feeding from him.
And in the heart of that apocalyptic light, Lycana whispered, almost to herself—
"…Kieth… if you can hear me, wake up."
Chaos swallowed the battlefield.
Frank's aura kept climbing, pulling the rift wider as if he were dragging something unspeakable toward their world. The gods fought to contain it, but every attack they threw only fed the storm coiling around him.
Then—
BOOM!
Three shadows dropped from the fractured sky, slamming into the earth hard enough to shake Lyra's cockpit.
Josh. Caine. Chris.
All three battered. Burned. Their armor dented, torn, smeared with dried blood from the fight they just survived.
They stood up slowly, swords and staves scraping the ground.
Lyra gasped, her throat tightening.
"H-How…? You guys— you were—"
Josh looked at her through the visor of his cracked helmet.
"We were. But we're not the type to stay dead."
Except… something was off.
A fourth figure hit the ground behind them, rolling to a stop.
A man in royal armor, chestplate fractured, purple cape torn to ribbons—
King Youm.
He coughed blood, using his greatsword to push himself upright.
When he looked at the three Anti-Heroes resurrected behind Frank, something cold slid across his expression.
"…No. They're not alive."
Lyra blinked, confused. "What—?"
King Youm pointed his blade at Jack the Ripper, who stood still with an eerie smile, eyes glassy like a puppet half-awake.
"That's not Jack. Nor Ted. Nor Mengele," he said quietly. "I fought the real ones. These move like echoes— copied shells built from their memories."
Metatron confirmed it with a soft chime.
"Affirmative. Biological duplications. Not true resurrection."
Frank grinned at them from atop a broken pillar, Xandros' stolen aura swirling around him like liquid night.
"Smart king. You always had good instincts."
He snapped his fingers.
"Copies or not— they're enough to kill you."
And the battlefield split.
JOSH VS JACK THE RIPPER
A cold wind cut through the rubble as Jack stepped forward, blades humming with unnatural sharpness.
Josh exhaled, dropping into stance.
No witty banter. No cocky grin.
Just a tired man with a sword.
Jack blurred first— darting left. Josh matched him, pivoting with a sharp side-step. Blade to blade. Sparks sprayed across the field.
Jack attacked low— a slicing arc aimed at Josh's leg.
Josh caught it with the flat of his sword, twisted his wrist, and shoved Jack back.
Jack giggled softly, head tilting.
The copy moved with perfect technique but empty soul.
"You're just a shadow," Josh said.
He rushed in, sword flashing in a clean horizontal cut.
Jack rolled under it and countered with two quick stabs— Josh narrowly dodged the second, feeling it graze his cheek.
Then Jack whispered—
"Then why are you bleeding?"
Josh answered by punching him in the face and sending the copy flying through a ruined transport truck.
CAINE VS MENGELE
Mengele's copy cracked his knuckles, scalpels floating around him like a metal halo.
"Interesting… your body is still at its peak. I'll carve you carefully this time."
Caine spat, tightening the grip on his chain-axe.
"Try."
Mengele lunged. The scalpels shot forward, dozens at once.
Caine didn't dodge—
He charged straight into them.
Blades cut his skin open, drawing blood, but he tanked every single one. His axe ignited with glowing runes, and he swung it in a brutal arc.
Mengele barely jumped back— the shockwave carved a trench through the earth.
"You reckless primitive—!"
Caine answered by slamming his head straight into Mengele's nose.
A sickening crack echoed.
CHRIS VS TED THE BUTCHER
Ted's copy dragged a massive cleaver behind him, sparks skipping along the ground.
Chris didn't even wait— his staff lit up with layered spell circles.
Ted roared and charged like a bull.
Chris muttered a short incantation—
A storm of compressed mana shards spiraled around him like tiny comets.
Ted swung.
Chris blocked with a barrier— it cracked instantly.
The second swing shattered it.
Chris slid back, boots digging trenches. Sweat clung to his forehead.
He whispered, "I hate fighting tanks…"
Ted lunged again.
Chris flicked his staff—
A bolt of white fire exploded point-blank.
Ted slid back a few meters, smoking… but still standing.
"What the hell did Frank feed you?" Chris muttered.
LYRA & KING YOUM VS FRANK ABIGNEIL
Frank stepped toward them, one hand in his pocket, the other holding loose light from the rift like it was a leash.
"You two look motivated," he said calmly. "Cute."
Lyra raised her Gundam's arm cannon.
King Youm lifted his blade, aura blazing violet despite his wounds.
Lyra whispered, "Metatron… whatever I say, don't hold back."
Metatron chimed softly.
"I never do."
King Youm muttered under his breath, "Girl, follow my rhythm. I'll draw his attention. You shoot when he drops his guard."
Frank smiled as if guessing the plan.
"Well then. Let's dance."
He vanished.
A heartbeat later—
CRASH!
The cockpit shook as Frank slammed a foot into Lyra's Gundam shoulder, pushing it sideways.
King Youm appeared behind Frank instantly, swinging his sword with everything he had.
Frank caught the blade with two fingers.
Two. Fingers.
"Still stubborn," Frank murmured. "Good."
He flicked his hand—
A shockwave launched King Youm across the crater.
Lyra fired her shoulder-mounted railgun—
Frank turned his head calmly, letting the beam tear across his cheek.
The wound healed before the smoke even faded.
Frank looked up at her, eyes glowing with twisting colors.
"Lyra… I'm starting to understand why he likes you."
Her stomach twisted.
No— that voice—
It was layered.
Xandros' cadence.
Frank's arrogance.
Outer corruption whispering between.
King Youm forced himself up again, coughing blood.
"He's not… the same monster from hours ago. He's worse."
Frank spread his arms, letting the rift pour more energy into him like a second heartbeat.
"Correct."
He vanished again— straight at Lyra—
But King Youm intercepted him, slamming his sword down in a desperate block.
"MOVE, GIRL!" he barked.
Lyra pulled back— Metatron taking over thrusters, dodging fragment by fragment.
Frank broke King Youm's guard instantly—
A single palm strike to the chest sent the king wheezing blood, armor warping under the hit.
Lyra screamed, "KING YOUM!"
Frank turned to her, smiling gently.
"Don't worry. He's not dead. Yet."
The air trembled.
The rift behind him expanded another meter.
More whispers leaked out— hungry. Ancient.
Frank lifted his hand.
"Let's end the warm-up."
Before he could strike—
A blade of pure light appeared at Frank's neck.
Frank froze.
Lyra's eyes widened.
King Youm's voice choked out—
"…No. It can't be…"
Because the one holding the blade…
Wore a ruined trench coat.
Had glowing golden eyes.
And a calm, tired expression.
A man they thought was dead.
A man not seen since hours before the Outer Gods stirred.
"Damien…?" Lyra whispered.
The first Hero.
Kieth's former best friend.
And the man who died years ago.
Damien smiled faintly.
"Sorry I'm late."
Frank's smile slowly vanished.
The gods turned.
The battlefield held its breath.
And the rift behind them… whispered a name none of them expected.
"—Savior."
The battlefield trembled under the weight of Frank's aura. The storm he fed with the rift pulsed violently, and even the air seemed to crackle with impending destruction.
Frank's eyes swept across the chaos, scanning for threats—and then they froze.
Kieth.
Unconscious, bleeding, slumped against the fractured rubble. The faint pulse of his aura barely registered—but it was enough.
A cruel smile spread across Frank's face. "So this is the one…" he murmured. "The last piece of my puzzle."
Without hesitation, he raised a hand. The rift behind him expanded like a tearing wound in reality, pulling energy into a concentrated beam. It screamed toward Kieth, intent unmistakable: end him.
Lyra's breath caught as she saw the beam form, its heat rippling across the air. She didn't think—she acted.
The Gundam roared as it charged, cutting through debris and chaos alike. Her cockpit's lights reflected determination as she drove straight into the line of fire.
"Move!" King Youm shouted, slashing through fragments of rubble to keep Frank's attention.
Lyra's Gundam slammed into the beam's path, taking the full brunt. The air detonated around her in a blinding flash. Sparks, smoke, and the smell of melting metal filled the void as the Gundam screamed under the strain.
"Kieth!" Josh yelled, blades ready, but even he froze at the magnitude of the explosion.
The beam struck. Lyra's figure, still upright inside the cockpit, became a shield of defiance. And then… everything erupted.
Flames and shrapnel tore the ground apart. The Gundam's armor disintegrated, chunks of metal flying in every direction. The explosion lit the battlefield like the birth of a sun, and for a heartbeat, the world seemed suspended in molten chaos.
Inside the wreckage, monitors flickered and sensors sparked. Then, faint but unmistakable, Kieth's eyelids twitched.
Through the smoke, dust, and fire, he saw her. Lyra's figure—standing tall on the monitor as the beam struck, her hand raised in a final, desperate gesture.
And then she began to speak.
"I lo—"
The explosion swallowed the rest.
Ash. Smoke. Silence.
Kieth's vision went white. His chest heaved. His fingers twitched. The battlefield roared around him, but all he could see… was the shadow of her sacrifice.
The screen on his HUD still flickered—showing only burning fragments of the Gundam.
The world waited.
And Kieth's eyes snapped open.
To be continued