Thirty minutes before Alma was released.
Ora True dodged and weaved through the mind-controlled civilians, knocking them off their feet and allowing the vines below to catch them as they fell, all while making his way up the side of a skyscraper. He raced toward the building's summit before continuing his ascent along the gigantic cocoon that loomed above it. Upon reaching the top, Ora launched himself high into the air, then came crashing down onto the cocoon's surface with enough force to shatter the outer shell and burst straight through it.
Suspended at the center of the cocoon, held in place by thick vines extending from its sides, bottom, and ceiling, was a building-sized structure resembling a human heart. Yet, at the very center of this enormous organ, a gigantic eye with a golden iris suddenly opened, immediately locking onto Ora. Blood vessels within the eye's sclera became increasingly prominent, spreading across its surface as though the creature were seething with anger.
A thick, green vine emerged from somewhere within the heart, its tip bearing a dangerously sharp, metallic-looking thorn. Without warning, it lashed toward Ora, who immediately curled into a ball and raised both arms to shield his face.
The vine struck him squarely, launching him out of the cocoon and sending him hurtling through the air.
'What...?' Ora thought as he soared above the city. 'Did I just...'
He crashed through the upper floors of an office building, tearing through multiple rows of cubicles before finally skidding to a stop on his feet.
"Get swatted like a fly?" Ora muttered, his voice dangerously low, irritation simmering beneath every word. His fists clenched, and before the dust had even settled around him, he burst into a sprint.
"HELL NO!" he roared, launching himself out of the building and back into the open air.
He brought the fingers of both hands close together before drawing his arms across his chest, forming an X in front of himself.
"Third Claw:"
Ora swung both arms diagonally, bringing them down toward his hips in a single, fluid motion. Two slashes of energy erupted from his movements, one from each arm, and hurtled toward the cocoon at tremendous speed. They pierced the outer shell and tore through it as effortlessly as a knife through butter, continuing straight through the heart and the enormous eye at its center before passing beyond them as though nothing had stood in their way.
"Strike of the Rising Warden."
The heart released a piercing scream of pain, its high-pitched, alien wail reverberating throughout the cocoon. Ora descended rapidly from the sky, his gaze fixed upon the devastated structure below him.
'Weston's training really paid off,' he thought. 'Not even my Mythical Beast knew about these hidden abilities.'
Ora landed inside the cocoon and began inspecting his surroundings, expecting the destruction he had inflicted to bring the ordeal to an end. Instead, he found himself confronted by the same persistent mist and an unyielding network of vines that showed no signs of receding. Confusion quickly gave way to unease as he realized that his attack had accomplished far less than he had intended.
Then, the entire cocoon began to tremble.
The shattered walls slowly mended themselves, their broken sections knitting back together as the heart and its enormous eye began to regenerate. The creature's anguished wail continued to echo through the enclosed space, growing louder as the damage to its body was undone.
The eye opened once more, fixing its gaze intently upon Ora. Yet, anger was not the only emotion conveyed by that golden stare. Beneath its fury lay something far more disturbing: hatred. The creature hated him.
Ora responded with a smile, even as the pressure within the cocoon seemed to thicken around him.
Two of the same thick, thorn-tipped vines came rushing down toward him, but Ora intercepted them before they could travel halfway, severing both with swift, precise movements. He immediately dashed to the side, swept his arm across his body, and unleashed another slash of energy toward the heart.
This time, however, the attack failed to cut deeply into its flesh, and the wound began closing almost as soon as it appeared.
Ora paused, contemplating the result and attempting to understand what had changed. Before he could reach a conclusion, the heart retaliated, sweeping him away with another vicious strike that sent him hurtling out of the cocoon and plummeting toward the street below.
He smashed into a car, triggering an explosion on impact that set off a chain reaction as the surrounding vehicles erupted one after another. His body tore through the roadway amid the successive blasts, leaving destruction in his wake before he finally came to a stop.
Ora recovered quickly, although he remained on one knee as he surveyed his surroundings. Looking up, he spotted another vine descending toward him and reacted instantly, seizing a nearby car engulfed in flames and hurling it directly at the approaching appendage.
The vine caught the vehicle, coiling around it as though preparing to throw it back at him. However, the flames spread across its green surface, igniting the plant tissue and causing the heart to release another anguished wail. The creature promptly severed the burning vine, allowing both the detached appendage and the car to fall to the ground.
'I see...' Ora thought, his expression shifting as the pieces began to fall into place. 'Then that's how I'll beat you.'
More vines swarmed toward him from every direction, but Ora cut through nearly all of them, leaving just one intact. Using the surviving vine as a foothold, he raced along its length and climbed back toward the top of the building before launching himself into the sky once more. As he ascended, he clenched his left hand into a fist, and the clouds above began gathering together, darkening as they clustered over the battlefield.
"Second Claw," Ora declared.
Lightning struck his hand, and a golden energy spread from his fist to his shoulder, enveloping the entire length of his arm. It was a partial transformation of his Hell Guardian, accompanied by a strange red mist—perhaps the manifestation of the Dreaded Dog's rage—and coils of electricity that wrapped themselves around his limb.
Carried forward by the lightning itself, Ora charged toward the creature with devastating determination. He broke the sound barrier not once, but dozens of times over, each successive burst of acceleration intensifying the violence of his descent. The air surrounding him grew increasingly hot and oppressive, seemingly solidifying under the pressure of his passage, yet despite the pain and the sheer force of his movement, not a single yell, scream, wail, or even the slightest sound escaped his lips.
He descended with tremendous weight and unwavering purpose, his entire being committed to a single objective: to kill the Beast of Ruin in one shot.
Ora struck the creature.
At first, nothing happened.
His body continued downward, penetrating the creature's form and burrowing straight into the building beneath it. The structure collapsed under the force of his passage, bringing the cocoon down with it as he continued plunging beyond the building's foundations and deep into the earth. He did not stop until he had carved an enormous vertical tunnel through the ground, carrying his momentum far beneath the surface.
Only then did he come to a halt.
Only then did the impact finally arrive.
Lightning erupted along the path Ora had traveled, striking from the sky to the depths of the earth and sending shock waves rippling through the immediate vicinity and outward for miles. Buildings shook violently, and those closest to the cocoon were reduced to ruins beneath the devastating force of the attack. Yet the lightning did not dissipate as it normally would have. Instead, it remained frozen in time where it struck, stretching from the sky where it had descended to the ground where it had landed, frozen completely within time as though the entire phenomenon had been arrested at the instant of impact.
Beyond the enormous hole Ora had carved into the earth, the civilians began regaining control of themselves. The poisonous mist had completely vanished, and the flowers responsible for their mind control had ceased their influence, leaving everyone who had survived the ordeal free from the creature's grasp. Fortunately, perhaps through nothing more than sheer luck, no civilians had been caught near the surrounding buildings when they collapsed.
"What happened?" a man asked, his disoriented expression suggesting that he had been working in one of the nearby offices moments earlier.
"I... don't know," a woman replied. "I was in my car, stopped at a red light, when... suddenly, I appeared here."
"The city...!" another man exclaimed, pointing toward the devastation left behind by Ora's attack. "What happened to it?!"
The civilians gradually gathered together, straining to get a better view of the destruction, some nearly knocking one another over in their haste to see what had become of their surroundings.
Far below them, Ora remained crouched inside the vertical tunnel he had dug, breathing quietly as he allowed himself a moment to recover. Eventually, he rose to his feet, and the golden glow surrounding his partially transformed arm began to fade. The red mist and coils of electricity dissipated alongside it, and his arm slowly returned to its ordinary appearance. As the transformation receded, the frozen lightning stretching between the sky and the ground gradually vanished, leaving nothing behind but the aftermath of his devastating attack.
"Fall of Collapsing Thunder," Ora said, his gaze lifting toward the sky above.
'That was incredible...' he thought, allowing himself to fully process what he had just experienced. 'I'm never fully conscious when I assume the complete transformation of Hell Guardian. Experiencing that much power is...'
A smile slowly spread across his face, one that had nothing to do with the satisfaction of defeating an enemy or the exhilaration of battle.
'Absolutely exhilarating.'
───
Ten minutes before Alma Alastor was unsealed.
"Dimension Creation:" Montana spoke, raising her arms in front of her face and placing each palm against the opposite forearm. "Immeasurable Abyss."
A crack appeared in reality behind her, spreading open in the blink of an eye before swallowing Montana, the Beast of Ruin, its severed arm, and the smaller Beasts of Ruin that had emerged from it. Just as quickly as it had opened, the rupture closed again, leaving behind nothing more than a thin sliver before disappearing altogether.
Montana found herself suspended high above the ocean, supported by a spiraling column of water that held her effortlessly aloft. Below her, the Beasts of Ruin sank beneath the surface, their forms gradually disappearing into the darkening depths as they descended farther and farther underwater.
After several moments, however, Montana could still sense their presence.
Her eyes narrowed slightly as she realized that the creatures had not been eliminated, prompting her to descend after them. The water propelled her downward at tremendous speed, creating a vast vortex that churned violently across the ocean's surface as she plunged toward the depths. Once she had caught up with the Beasts of Ruin, she regarded the clustered creatures with an interested gaze before raising her lance toward them.
Behind her, an enormous whale materialized, its gigantic mouth opening wide enough to dwarf a mountain.
"Devour until nothing remains," Montana commanded, speaking and breathing as naturally as though she were standing on dry land, the surrounding water having no effect on her whatsoever.
The colossal whale wasted no time, surging forward with a speed that belied its immense size. In a single movement, it swallowed both Montana and the gathered Beasts of Ruin, carrying them into the darkness of its enormous stomach.
Inside the creature, the Beasts of Ruin began dissolving beneath the whale's digestive effects. Though in reality, it was all due to Immeasurable Abyss as an aspect. However, the creatures continued multiplying at a rate that outpaced the speed at which they were being dissolved, their numbers increasing faster than the whale could eliminate them.
Montana observed the situation and narrowed her eyes, recognizing that the whale's natural ability would not be enough to finish the task on its own. Her lance transformed into a stream of light-blue water, which she gathered and molded into a sphere between her hands. Once the sphere had taken shape, she clasped it firmly with both palms and crushed it.
The compressed water erupted outward, becoming a stream of extraordinarily high pressure that shot toward the multiplying Beasts of Ruin. With Montana's intervention, the rate at which the creatures were destroyed finally surpassed the rate at which they could reproduce. One by one, they were overwhelmed by the relentless stream, their bodies continuing to dissolve under the whale's influence until their numbers steadily dwindled.
Montana maintained the pressure, ensuring that the creatures could no longer multiply quickly enough to overwhelm the whale's digestive process. Gradually, the remaining Beasts of Ruin were eliminated, their presence disappearing into the vast darkness of the Immeasurable Abyss.
After the Beasts of Ruin had been killed, the Dimension shattered, leaving Montana standing exactly where she had been before activating it.
'What's going on?' Montana thought, her expression growing increasingly troubled. 'These Beasts of Ruin aren't like the ones we encountered a few years ago. They weren't even this powerful a couple of months ago. It's almost as if they've undergone some kind of evolution.'
Montana wore a worried expression as she contemplated what the future might hold, and for once, she struggled to imagine an outcome in which humanity would survive unscathed. Whatever was happening to the Beasts of Ruin, it was becoming increasingly apparent that the world was changing in ways the Monarchs had yet to understand.
───
Three minutes before Alma Alastor was unsealed.
Amelia Spring and Weston Cooper stood side by side, both Monarchs wearing expressions of unease and apprehension as they examined the creature before them, which was undoubtedly deserving of every ounce of their concern.
At first glance, it appeared to be human. It had human skin, human hair, and human clothing, but beneath those familiar features lay a body that was anything but ordinary. Its arms were unnaturally long, extending well past its knees and nearly reaching its ankles. Its face was permanently frozen in an expression of absolute horror, its mouth stretched into a smile that revealed a row of pristine teeth, yet its piercing blue eyes carried a haunted, almost conscious gaze, as though it understood precisely what it was and what it had become.
Both Monarchs knew without a doubt that the creature before them was a Beast of Ruin, despite its disturbingly human appearance. The defining distinctions between Beasts of Ruin and Humans of Ruin generally came down to two fundamental characteristics: consciousness and the capacity for critical thought. Although other factors could also determine whether a creature belonged to either category, those two traits were among the most reliable indicators.
Nevertheless, knowing that the creature was a Beast of Ruin did little to quiet the instincts screaming at them that they were looking at a human being. A person. Something that should have been familiar, yet was so profoundly unnatural that merely looking at it made their skin crawl.
"It hasn't moved since we first spotted it," Amelia whispered to Weston, who responded with a slight nod.
"Do you think it can only move when we're not looking at it?" Weston asked quietly, keeping his attention fixed on the creature.
"I don't know, but whatever the case may be, it's giving me the creeps," Amelia replied, regarding the Beast of Ruin with undisguised contempt.
As though it had heard their conversation, the creature tilted its head to the side, mimicking the curious gesture of a puppy. The fingers of its hands began to twitch and curl, and before long, its entire body was trembling violently. Suddenly, it unleashed a piercing shriek that forced both Monarchs to cover their ears, before abruptly lunging toward them.
Weston reacted immediately, drawing his bow and releasing a spectral projectile with enough force to crack the concrete beneath his feet. The arrow hurtled toward its target at tremendous speed, serving as a test of the creature's durability while simultaneously carrying enough destructive power to kill it outright, assuming the attack actually connected.
However, instead of piercing the Beast of Ruin's body, the arrow encountered an invisible distortion in the space directly in front of it. The air appeared to warp, redirecting the projectile away from its intended trajectory until it plunged harmlessly into the ground.
Both Monarchs widened their eyes in surprise, although Weston's expression quickly shifted into one of concentration as he began to consider the implications of what he had witnessed.
'So that's its ability. I wonder whether it possesses a perfect defense that protects it from every kind of attack, both physical and conceptual, or whether the distortion only occurs when the Beast of Ruin can perceive an incoming attack before it connects.'
Weston's thoughts continued as he assessed his options, searching for a way to bypass whatever defense the creature possessed.
'If Amelia uses Impenetrable Iron Wood to create an opening, I should be able to pierce its body and kill it. And if that doesn't work, then Void should do the trick.'
However, before he could turn toward Amelia and explain his plan, the Beast of Ruin abruptly vanished.
Both Monarchs' eyes widened as its presence shifted from directly in front of them to somewhere behind them, leaving them barely enough time to react before the creature reappeared between them and swung both of its unnaturally long arms outward.
The impact sent Amelia and Weston hurtling in opposite directions, launching them into nearby buildings with tremendous force.
Without pausing to admire its handiwork, the creature turned its attention toward Weston, raised one arm high above its head, and brought it crashing downward.
What followed was a devastating gust of wind that tore through everything in its path, pulverizing buildings and ripping apart the surrounding streets as it carved an enormous trench through the landscape.
Weston recovered quickly, regaining his composure in midair before assessing the approaching destruction. He sprinted beyond the attack's immediate range and dove to the side, rolling across the ground before rising back to his feet in one fluid motion.
At the same time, Amelia charged toward the Beast of Ruin, riding atop a thick root that surged through the ground beneath her. The creature turned its head toward the approaching mass of wood but made no attempt to evade it, remaining perfectly still until the root slammed into its body and drove it backward. Its feet dug deep furrows into the ground as the immense force dragged it along the street.
However, the Beast of Ruin was far from helpless. It dug its fingers into the root with an iron grip before tearing the entire structure out of the ground and lifting it high above its head, as though the enormous mass of wood weighed almost nothing.
Before it could do anything further, another root, considerably larger and thicker than the first, struck the ground beside it, forcing the creature to turn its head toward the disturbance. Amelia was already approaching from above, having ridden down the root that struck the ground, closing in fast toward her opponent's position, and then she launched herself from it with a powerful kick that struck the creature squarely in the jaw.
The impact sent the Beast of Ruin flying into a nearby building, smashing through its exterior and disappearing into the wreckage.
The thick roots it had uprooted began twitching before abruptly being swung toward Amelia, their movements caused by the Beast of Ruin. She twisted her body toward them and extended her palm, causing the roots to wither from their centers before disintegrating into countless tiny yellow sparkles that drifted harmlessly through the air.
Then she heard the sound of running footsteps.
Amelia immediately turned toward the noise, only to find the Beast of Ruin charging straight at her, swinging its elongated arms in rhythm with its strides. Her eyes widened as the creature rapidly closed the distance, leaving her barely enough time to raise her arms in an attempt to protect herself.
The Beast of Ruin crashed into the Dryad Monarch with overwhelming force, driving her through one building after another and tearing across entire streets as it continued its relentless assault. Before she could recover, the creature seized her by the face and hurled her one final time into a wall, sending her crashing through the structure before she landed heavily on her back.
Amelia lay there for a brief moment, winded by the punishment she had just endured. She barely had time to summon a rejuvenating root, let alone recover fully, before the Beast of Ruin was already upon her again.
She rolled to the side at the last possible moment, driving a kick into its stomach before immediately commanding several roots to erupt from the surrounding ground and pierce its body. The combined force of the roots launched the creature through multiple levels of the building before sending it bursting out of the structure and high into the sky.
Lightning flashed among the clouds.
In the instant following the brilliant flash, Weston appeared directly in front of the airborne Beast of Ruin, his blue spectral bow already drawn, a brilliant white-hot arrow resting against its string.
"Absolute Negation," Weston declared before releasing the string.
The arrow of destruction tore through the air and pierced the creature's chest, driving it toward the ground before detonating in a magnificent pillar of white light that soared five miles into the sky. A tremendous wave of light expanded both upward and downward from the center of the explosion, swallowing everything in its immediate vicinity beneath its overwhelming brilliance.
Weston began falling from the sky, but before he could reach the ground, one of Amelia's roots rose beneath him and gently carried him down to safety.
The moment his feet touched the ground, both Monarchs hurried toward the location where the Beast of Ruin had fallen, determined to confirm whether their combined assault had finally brought it down.
"Do you think you killed it?" Amelia asked as she ran alongside Weston.
"I'm not sure. I can't sense anything coming from it, but that definitely wasn't a killing blow. Something felt... off... just before the arrow connected," he replied, continuing forward without slowing down.
Then, without warning, the scenery surrounding them changed.
The ruined streets and shattered buildings disappeared, replaced by a dense forest filled with thick foliage and towering trees that seemed to stretch endlessly in every direction. Both Monarchs came to an abrupt halt, confusion spreading across their faces as they struggled to understand how they had been transported somewhere else without any apparent warning.
Before they could fully process the change, the forest vanished as well.
This time, they found themselves standing before an enormous castle perched atop a towering mountain, with a long gravel trail leading toward its imposing gates. Yet even that landscape lasted only an instant before the world around them changed once more.
Deep space.
The sudden transition was catastrophic.
Both Amelia and Weston immediately struggled to breathe as their bodies were exposed to the merciless conditions of the vacuum. The fluids within their bodies began to boil, while their saliva and tears evaporated almost instantaneously. Their flesh expanded rapidly under the pressure difference, swelling grotesquely without immediately rupturing, held together only by the elasticity of their bodies.
It was then that they finally saw the creature responsible.
The Beast of Ruin stood some distance away, holding its hands apart in front of its chest, its arms trembling as though it were struggling to prevent them from drawing closer together. Whatever force it was exerting appeared to be directed toward something beyond the area it had chosen to manipulate, leaving it momentarily occupied with maintaining its ability.
Both Monarchs understood the horrifying truth.
This Beast of Ruin possessed the power to alter reality itself.
Beyond the boundaries of the fabricated void, buildings were being ripped from their foundations and dragged into the altered space. Cars, trees, entire stretches of road, and everything else caught within the affected area were being pulled inward, as though an invisible force were steadily consuming the surrounding world.
The creature needed only nineteen minutes to accomplish its objective.
Nineteen minutes before the Hydra and Centaur Monarchs would die from oxygen deprivation, assuming the conditions did not kill them sooner. Once they lost consciousness, which would likely happen within the next two minutes, finishing them off would be considerably easier.
That was the plan, at least.
Before he was released.
The sky split apart.
Cracks of varying sizes spread across the heavens, tearing through the fabric of the altered space as though reality itself were beginning to fracture under an overwhelming force. At the center of the largest crack stood a familiar figure.
Alma Daedulus Alastor.
His mere presence sent a wave of terror through the Beast of Ruin, whose entire body began to tremble uncontrollably as it stared up at the Dragon Monarch. Tears streamed continuously from its eyes, and its horrified expression twisted further as it broke into frightened shouts and desperate groans, seemingly incapable of deciding whether to flee, attack, or simply remain where it stood.
For the first time since the battle began, the creature that had manipulated reality itself appeared utterly powerless.
───
58 minutes before Alma's unsealing, and two minutes after his sealing.
Subatomic Crystal Sphere—the dimension that houses all dimensions. A mistake in reality that should never have existed, and should not have been able to exist in the first place.
Alma remained on his knees, staring at the ground beneath him. The chains that had once restrained his body were gone, yet he made no effort to move, remaining completely motionless as he contemplated what had happened. The ground beneath him consisted of a sand-like material that stretched into the vast emptiness surrounding him, while the sky above was a dark purple, filled with wisps of mist that were a considerably lighter shade. It was a sight as bleak and desolate as Alma felt within himself.
He had no idea how much time had passed since he was trapped, nor how long he had been trapped in this place. For that matter, he wasn't even sure if he cared. Groans echoed from beyond the horizon, originating from an existence that seemed to stand outside the boundaries of comprehension, yet Alma paid them little attention. He didn't want to move. He didn't want to think. More than anything, he wanted to remain in that realm, in that particular state of mind, forever. What was there left for him beyond this place? All he could picture was the image of Jasmine betraying him, his own daughter, the person he loved more than himself.
It was a devastating blow to his mental well-being, and the implications of what had happened were deeply concerning, even if he couldn't bring himself to properly acknowledge them.
The groans beyond the horizon gradually grew louder, drawing closer until their sources finally came into view. Hundreds of creatures raced toward him, their bodies entirely black and hairless, with skin that resembled leather stretched tightly over their frames. Without moving from his position, Alma activated his Evil Eyes, practically on instinct, and observed the approaching horde, immediately recognizing that every single creature possessed a soul. When he lowered his gaze toward the ground, he discovered even more of them beneath the surface, tunneling through the sand as they made their way toward him.
It took Alma considerably more effort than a simple blink to process the situation, but he eventually came to the conclusion that he had a problem on his hands. Not a problem for himself, necessarily, but one for this place. Finally standing up, he brought his hand close to his chest and formed a familiar sign with his index finger and thumb.
"Shield," he said, causing the rocky dome of his Greatest Defense to materialize around him.
The creatures crashed against the protective barrier, scratching and clawing at the stone with their hands and whatever other appendages they possessed. They threw themselves against it with relentless ferocity, seemingly determined to tear their way inside, but no matter how desperately they struggled, they couldn't breach the Greatest Defense.
Alma studied them for several seconds before reaching into his pocket and retrieving his phone. His attention was still more occupied with the possibility of Jasmine's betrayal than with the horde attempting to overwhelm him, and he wanted to call Max to confirm whether the person he had encountered really had been Jasmine. However, the moment he attempted to make the call, he realized that he had no service.
"Right. I hadn't... taken that into account," Alma muttered, his voice carrying a lifeless, hollow quality.
The shock of Jasmine's apparent betrayal remained fresh in his mind, despite his repeated attempts to convince himself otherwise. He had told himself over and over that it couldn't have been her, that something about the situation had to be wrong, but the image of her standing before him refused to leave his thoughts. Even now, with hundreds of monsters trying to tear through his defense, his mind kept returning to the same painful possibility.
He slipped his phone back into his pocket and took a moment to survey his surroundings. The ground was covered in sand, its color a dark, heavily faded pink, while the purple sky above were now filled with clouds of blue and red lightning that occasionally flashed across the heavens. Despite the violent displays of light, not a single sound accompanied them. Something about the place had changed, becoming subtly different from what it had once been, though Alma couldn't immediately determine why.
Turning his attention back toward the creatures clawing at Shield, he looked down through the sand and observed countless others moving beneath its surface. They swam through the ground like aquatic creatures from the Cretaceous Period, navigating the terrain with an ease that made the sand seem no different from water. Above them, more monsters flew through the sky on enormous wings, while others, lacking any such limbs, simply floated through the air.
Yet beyond those creatures, Alma noticed something far stranger.
Countless souls filled the sky, all seemingly connected to a single, enormous crack that stretched across the sky. His Evil Eyes could not perceive each soul individually, but the sheer number made them appear as one immense, tightly packed mass. As he continued observing the sky, he discovered that this was not the only crack in this place. Others were scattered throughout the heavens, some separated by considerable distances and others clustered together in groups. Despite their proximity, however, none of the cracks appeared to connect. Even those positioned closest to one another remained distinctly separate.
These cracks were dimensions leading to entirely different worlds, each comparable in scale to the one Alma knew, containing just as many celestial bodies and universes that were equally vast, if not larger. In his current mindset, he couldn't begin to comprehend what he was looking at, much less determine the full extent of what these structures represented. Their appearances were mesmerizing, almost beautiful in their sheer immensity, yet there was something deeply unsettling about them, as though he were looking at something he was never meant to witness.
And then, just as a many-legged monster prepared to lunge at him, Alma suddenly remembered something.
Max had given him a small device designed to expand into a service provider, allowing him to establish a connection even when he found himself somewhere he shouldn't have been able to communicate from. It was intended for emergencies, in case he ever got lost or something unprecedented happened.
Something like being sealed away inside an impossible dimension.
Alma immediately removed the protective case from his phone, extracted a small chip equipped with a USB-C connector, and plugged it into the device. Within moments, his phone regained service, allowing him to make the call he had been trying to place.
After several rings, his son finally answered.
"Hey, Dad. How are you?"
"Max? Hey, uh... is Jasmine with you?" Alma asked.
"Yeah, of course she is. She's been here ever since you got back from training with her," Max replied, sounding slightly confused by the question. "What's going on?"
'So that really wasn't Jasmine. If tearing off her own face wasn't enough of a clue, then remaining stubborn will be my curse,' Alma thought, a lingering trace of doubt still preventing him from fully accepting the truth. Nevertheless, he forced himself to respond.
"I'll tell you about it when I get back, but there's sort of a problem with my transportation," Alma explained.
"How so?" Max asked.
"Well... I've sort of been sealed inside some kind of alternate dimension."
A pause followed.
Then came a much longer pause.
"WHAT?!" Max's shout was so sudden and loud that it startled Jasmine, Emily, and Desear, who were all nearby.
"What do you mean you've been sealed?! How did that happen?!" he demanded.
"I was tricked by... someone. It's a lot to explain, and I'll tell you everything once I'm free, but I need your help getting out of here," Alma replied.
"Okay, I'm here. Where were you sealed?" Max asked, quickly shifting his attention toward the problem.
"The subway station in Winston-Salem, down Trade Street, I think. Right on the platform when you walk down the stairs," Alma explained.
"Okay... I'll prepare my device to get you out. It should work the same way it did with that force field around the college. I hope," Max said, his confidence faltering slightly as he considered the implications.
"You won't accidentally overlap infinities, will you?" Alma asked, his voice carrying a nervousness that was unusual for him.
"I... don't know. There's a chance, but it should be much lower, and it shouldn't require nearly as much precision as the force field around the college did... I think," Max answered.
Alma stared ahead with a completely deadpan expression, his gaze becoming so flat that it seemed to convey every concern he couldn't be bothered to put into words. Eventually, he sighed.
"All right. I trust in your ability. Get everything prepared on your end, and I'll see what I can do from in here."
As he spoke, Alma looked beyond the confines of Shield and observed that the horde surrounding him had grown tremendously. What had once been hundreds of creatures had become an overwhelming mass, their bodies crowding together until the ground itself seemed to writhe beneath their feet.
"Okay, understood. See you soon," Max said.
"See you soon, too. And Max... don't tell Jasmine about me being tricked. Don't mention it at all. If she asks how I was sealed, just tell her that it was an accident. Got it?" Alma instructed.
"...Yeah. You'll tell me why afterward, right?" Max asked.
"Of course. Love you."
"Love you too."
With that, Max ended the call.
Alma lowered his phone and redirected his attention toward the horde of monsters surrounding him, watching as they continued to throw themselves against his defenses with no sign of slowing down.
"What am I supposed to do with all of you?" he muttered.
Without warning, Shield disappeared. In its place, the full output of Withering Grace erupted around Alma, spreading outward with devastating intensity. The moment the ability took effect, the creatures began to rot and die, their bodies deteriorating until they collapsed into nothingness. However, these monsters were creations devoid of thought and any meaningful sense of danger, and their lack of intelligence prevented them from recognizing the threat before them. They continued charging toward Alma with the same relentless ferocity, only to meet the same inevitable end as those that had come before them.
Once the immediate horde had been eliminated, Alma deactivated Withering Grace and began walking toward the horizon. He continued forward for some time, expecting the landscape to change as he traveled, but eventually, something began to feel wrong. He stopped and turned around, only to discover that he hadn't moved from his original position at all.
He stared into the distance, attempting to understand what had happened and determine how he might overcome whatever force was preventing him from progressing. Before he could reach a conclusion, however, a voice suddenly broke the silence.
"Greetings..."
Alma turned toward the sound, his gaze settling upon an enormous purple specter whose head consisted of a gigantic crystal.
"One without beginning," the creature declared, its crystalline head glowing with each word.
───
45 minutes before Alma's unsealing
Alma stared at the creature with a confused expression, trying to make sense of the strange being that had appeared before him.
"What... are you?" he asked.
"What am I? Where did I come from? What is my purpose? There are many questions contained within that one, my friend," the creature replied. "But if I must answer just one, then I am the creator and guardian of what you see before you. Everything. The sands beneath your feet, the skies above you, the cracks scattered throughout the heavens, and even the creatures you have just killed."
"So you sent them after me?" Alma asked.
"No! By all means, no! I would not dare," the crystal-headed being insisted. "They possess neither intelligence nor a consciousness of their own. They attack because it is their nature to do so. Please, do not take offense. My other creations would bow before you before they ever considered attacking you. You may take those words as a promise."
Alma paid little attention to the creature's assurances, choosing instead to focus on the question that mattered most to him.
"Where am I?" he asked.
"You are in the realm between realms, the host of every dimension in existence. Otherwise known as The Everywhere," it explained.
"Is there a way back to where I came from?" Alma asked.
"That answer lies within you. Though, if you intend to get out, I would strongly recommend doing so without collapsing the entire structure and causing everything to be erased from creation." The entity spoke in an almost deadpan voice. "It wouldn't affect you, but I would have to rebuild all the timelines, alternative universes, and..." Its voice trailed off, seemingly overcome by the thought. "Please, just don't destroy anything!"
Alma looked at it with confusion. "I'm not capable of doing something like that."
"Oh, but I can tell that you are. You simply don't want to see it, or perhaps you can't, but you are fully capable." it replied.
"If you can recreate everything, then you must be able to see inside every world, right?" Alma asked. The thought of speaking with a cosmic entity, perhaps even some sort of god, was, unironically, among the more ordinary experiences in his life.
"You are correct. I can see inside every universe simultaneously. Why do you ask?" the entity responded.
"Because someone in the world I come from took on the appearance of my daughter. I want to know who that someone truly is, and whether it really wasn't my daughter," Alma explained.
He had faith in Jasmine. He knew she would never do something like that to him, let alone even consider it. His uncertainty wasn't rooted in a lack of trust in her, but rather in his own perception of reality. Alma couldn't help but wonder whether he was seeing things as they truly were, whether his mind was still functioning as it should, or whether he had somehow lost his grip on sanity.
The entity remained motionless for several seconds before responding. However, it wasn't contemplating what to say. Rather, it was deciding how much Alma could handle hearing. Even so, the full extent of his emotions remained beyond its comprehension.
"Before I answer, I want you to understand something. If you believe your daughter is incapable of committing an act as terrible as betraying her own father, then perhaps that is the answer you need. Trust your instincts, and trust the woman you raised," it said.
Alma considered its words for a moment. A woman? Jasmine wasn't even a teenager yet. The thought of imagining her as a grown woman brought a certain sadness to him, though it also made him realize that the entity was mistaken about his daughter in that regard.
"Now, as for your actual question: I cannot see into your world," it finally said.
"What do you mean?" Alma asked after a brief pause.
"I have created everything. You could travel for an eternity and still never reach the boundaries of my creation. Your world is no exception. I created the entire Monarch system, the Ministers, the Beasts of Ruin, and the Mythical Beasts. I even placed a fragment of myself within that world. However, whenever you appeared there, whenever that may have been, the world was lost to me." The entity paused before continuing. "I can no longer see inside it, nor can I access it. I have even lost contact with the fragment I placed there. Every universe I gaze upon, including the largest ones that exist alongside that world, appears completely blank. They are gone. And I've begun to wonder whether I ever created them at all."
"So you're saying you don't have a clue what's happening in my world?" Alma asked.
The entity simply nodded.
"And by saying all of that, I take it you can't send me back either, can you?" Alma asked.
"That is correct. Even you are a mystery to me. I can see the beginnings and endings of everything, living and nonliving alike. You, however... have neither."
Alma's eyes widened.
"What?" he managed to utter, too shocked to ask anything more.
The entity didn't answer. Instead, it raised one of its appendages and pointed toward an enormous crack in the sky.
"If you wish to return to your world, then I suggest going through there and using the same method that brought you here," it explained.
Alma followed the direction of its gesture, looking up at the enormous crack. He stared at it for a while, considering the suggestion. However, the way he had arrived here hadn't been intentional, nor did he have access to whatever had been used to seal him away in the first place. Returning to his world would be considerably easier said rather than done.
Eventually, Alma looked back at the entity. "What is your name?"
"I do not have one." It replied.
'The Nameless.' Alma thought.
"Thank you for your help. If we ever meet again, I'll be sure not to show up unannounced," Alma said, though internally, he immediately began arguing with himself.
'Yeah, right! How am I supposed to do that without any proper way of letting him know beforehand?!' he thought.
With that, Alma took flight, ascending toward the enormous crack before disappearing inside it.
The entity remained where it was, its gaze fixed upon the place where Alma had vanished. "I have a bad feeling about our next meeting."
───
Alma's eyes widened at the sight that greeted him.
The single crack he had entered had branched into countless others, all interconnected like the root system of an enormous tree. Even the smaller branches extending from the larger ones followed the same pattern, forming an incomprehensibly vast network of fractures throughout the sky. Yet the most unbelievable part was that these weren't the only rifts in existence. There were so many that their sheer number overwhelmed Alma's physical sight, while his soul perception was subjected to an even greater degree of sensory overload.
Once again, he wasn't perceiving individual quantities of souls within each branch. Rather, every branch appeared to contain one enormous clump of souls, so densely concentrated that their individual distinctions were almost impossible to make out. He could also tell that countless universes existed within each of these branches, along with structures even larger than universes, extending seemingly into infinity.
Alma looked around, desperately searching for something that might distinguish his destination from the rest, though he already knew how futile the effort would be. Every crack appeared fundamentally identical, and attempting to locate his world among an endless collection of them was practically impossible.
His mind began racing as he desperately tried to find a solution.
'If not even the creator of my world can find it, then what am I supposed to do?' he thought.
'Wait. If all these cracks and branches are dimensions leading to different worlds, then perhaps I can reverse-engineer my own Dimension and use it to bring me back.' Alma considered the possibility further. 'If he created the Mythical Beasts assigned to that world, then their origins should ultimately be connected to it. But Ardath told me that I should only use my Dimension when absolutely necessary.'
'I still don't know what the consequences of using it earlier might be...' he thought.
───
One minute before Alma's unsealing
Thirty minutes had passed since Alma began his conversation with the Nameless, and fourteen more had elapsed since he entered the rift in the sky. During that time, he had carefully considered what he should do, weighing the potential risks against the benefits and attempting to determine whether there was another way out.
He was the one who possessed such a devastating power, but he was also the one who would bear its consequences. He was both its ruler and its servant. If he chose to unleash something capable of bringing about such destruction, then he alone would have to accept responsibility for whatever followed.
Alma raised his left hand in front of his face and formed the new hand sign. Yet no words escaped his mouth. No Liminal Bonds were expended, nor had he intended to expend any.
Thirty seconds.
Fifteen seconds.
Ten seconds.
"Dimension Creation..." 8.15 seconds.
The remaining seconds weren't a countdown of how much time he had left.
"Chime of the Golden Toll!" 5.76 seconds.
They marked the time until his decision became final.
The Strongest There Is makes a choice.
A crack formed behind Alma, spreading open until it became an enormous rift. The moment it appeared, every branch and every other rift throughout the surrounding expanse began to tremble violently. At the same time, however, they all connected to Alma's Dimension.
By using Chime of the Golden Toll as a gateway, Alma forcibly created an entrance and an exit. Across the entirety of the Nameless's creation, rifts began opening, each one connecting to the dimension in which Alma's own Dimension had manifested.
He couldn't yet use the Cheat Sheet within Chime of the Golden Toll to directly influence other beings or objects. The process was far too complex for that. Instead, it was the very act of creating a Dimension, feeling it come into existence, and understanding the manner in which it formed that allowed him to extend its reach. Through that understanding, he expanded the boundaries of his Dimension until it could connect with the countless other dimensions surrounding him.
And thus, the search began.
2 seconds.
Every dimension was searched in just 3.67 seconds. That was the speed at which Chime of the Golden Toll could activate, a testament to how extraordinary it was, even among Dimensions.
1 second.
The Mysterious World, which had vanished right before the Nameless's eyes, was finally found. The Dimension closed around Alma, and the countless connections disappeared with it.
0 seconds remaining.
A gigantic rift opened above north-central Kansas, approximately 2.5 miles from Lebanon. Rays of multicolored light poured down from the sky, stretching across the United States. The enormous crack in the air was the manifestation of Alma's Dimension, while the different colors illuminating the land originated from the dimensions within his world.
Alma's face remained completely expressionless, his eyes cold and devoid of warmth. Accomplishing what he had just done required an extraordinary degree of concentration, and even after returning to his world, he had little time to process the experience. The Jasmine impostor was the next matter he needed to settle.
An unknown amount of time passed within Alma's mind. But once he decided that he had spent enough time contemplating what had happened, he moved.
In an instant, he arrived in Chiyoda Ward, Japan, where a little girl stood among a crowd of people. Alma was there as well.
He stared intently at her, his attention fixed entirely on the child, who remained unaware of what was about to happen. The surrounding citizens began noticing Alma, partly because of his extraordinary height, which made him stand out among everyone else. Nevertheless, he continued forward, passing through the crowd without hesitation. At that moment, none of the people around him mattered. Not to him, anyway.
It wasn't until the little girl was nearly out of the crowd that she finally turned around, having sensed someone watching her. When she did, she found Alma standing less than twenty feet away, staring directly at her with an expression that nearly bordered on hatred.
The moment he saw her face, he knew.
It was the impostor.
She had repaired the face she had mutilated, restoring the appearance she had used to deceive him. Alma clenched his fists, anger steadily rising as he looked at her.
"Jasmine" stumbled backward, falling as though her own fear had caused her body to betray her. Her composure crumbled, and her words were soon to follow.
"P-please! Wait! There seems to be a misunderstanding, stranger!" she pleaded in Japanese.
"Feigning ignorance and pretending to be innocent." Alma replied in the same language.
He raised his hand toward the woman, his expression remaining cold. "You will curse this world no longer."
The woman attempted to plead with him again, but Alma had already released Spear. It pierced her body and struck her soul, erasing her existence right there in the middle of the street. Before the attack could cause any collateral damage, Alma immediately dispersed it.
A weight had finally been lifted from his shoulders.
He had killed the person responsible for the slaughter in the subway. He had avenged everyone who had died there.
With a sigh, Alma took flight, rising above the crowd and leaving Japan behind as he made his way back toward the United States.
Along the way, he noticed Amelia and Weston down on their hands and knees, struggling to breathe before a Beast of Ruin. Something about the creature immediately struck him as strange. It was unlike anything he had encountered before, possessing features so remarkably similar to those of an actual human that Alma briefly wondered whether his eyes were deceiving him.
The creature did nothing but stare at him, its fear unmistakable even in the way it held its body. Before it could move, assuming it was even capable of doing so, Alma had already released Spear.
The attack struck the Beast of Ruin, killing it in a single blow.
Alma descended toward the two Monarchs and gently rested a hand on each of their shoulders. "Are you two okay?"
Amelia coughed, finally managing to partially enclose herself and Weston within her Regenerative Iron Wood. "Yeah... we're good." she answered. "Where have you been?"
"That... is a long story." Alma replied with a smile. "Let's regroup with the other Monarchs and Emmanuel. I have some explaining to do."
With that, Alma picked up both Monarchs and flew toward Emmanuel.
---
Montana was being held by the crown of her head, blood trickling down her face as she clenched her teeth in pain. Her lance lay discarded on the ground nearby, having been forcibly knocked from her grasp.
The man Emmanuel had been fighting stood before her, holding her in place with a grip that seemed to tighten with every passing second.
"You're so weak," the man remarked.
He tightened his hold around her head before violently slamming her into the ground. "You really should focus on getting stronger."
Montana struggled to hold herself up with her arms and knees, blood pouring from her mouth. She coughed, then slowly raised her head to look at the man, her expression defiant, almost crazed despite the condition she was in.
"What do you think I've been doing?" she asked, coughing up more blood.
"Day in and day out, I've been training nonstop. I push myself until I collapse, only stopping when I reach my limit. And even then, I push beyond it. It's been me. It's always been me!" Montana shouted, her voice growing louder with each word. "No one else helped me, and I don't need them to!"
The man smirked, casually slipping his hands into his pockets.
"So that's your outlook on life? If you keep that mindset, you'll fail at everything you do."
"I don't care!" Montana shouted angrily. "I'll keep trying until I succeed. I won't stop until you're dead. I don't need anyone's help!"
"By all means, keep trying." The man bowed. "The world will have a new standard for just how low someone can fall." He replied with a smile.
Montana gritted her teeth, glaring at him with an intensity that refused to diminish despite her injuries.
However, before she could respond, the man's eyes suddenly widened. He had sensed a presence rapidly approaching his location, one whose power was unmistakable. He turned toward the direction from which it was coming.
'The Dragon Monarch...'
Without another moment's hesitation, he took off into the sky, flying away at tremendous speed in a desperate attempt to put as much distance as possible between himself and the Dragon Monarch.
Alma descended from above and landed in front of Montana. The moment his feet touched the ground, he hurried over to her side, immediately noticing the blood covering her face and the condition she was in. Montana, meanwhile, spat out another mouthful of blood.
"What happened?! Are you okay?!" Alma asked, his voice filled with concern.
"I'm fine..." Montana managed to say before coughing again. "Where are the others? Is it over?"
"They're all at the White House, and the battle is over. I've already killed every Beast of Ruin that attempted to attack while I was gone." Alma explained.
"About that... where were you? We thought we were all going to die!" Montana exclaimed, staring at him with an incredulous expression.
"That will all be explained once we get to the White House." Alma replied.
He then carefully picked her up and took flight, carrying her away from the battlefield.
With the Dragon Monarch's return, the United States was once again safe and protected. However, all was far from well in the world. The emergence of Beasts of Ruin that appeared to be evolving, along with the arrival of the man who had fought evenly against Emmanuel Thatcher and who nearly killed Montana Bristol, made it clear that the situation was far from settled. Had Alma Alastor not intervened, Montana would very well have lost her life.
Time would reveal just how much worse things could become, and perhaps even shed light on how dire the situation already was. But that time would make itself known when the moment came.
For now, however, the world had come to understand one thing:
Alma Daedulus Alastor... as The Strongest.