The transition was like being crushed between two stars. One moment, I was being vaporized by the "God-Slayer" beam; the next, I was suspended in a realm of absolute silence. The Varuna Trench didn't just contain water; it contained Aether-Fluid, a substance so dense with Dom energy that my PatalLok Devourer form felt like it was being compressed into a single point.
[System Notification] Location: The Threshold of PatalLok (The Abyssal Gate). Status: Critical Condition (Resilience: 0.8/50). Environmental Effect: Pressure of the Damned. Your movements are slowed by 60%.
I floated in the dark, the only light coming from the four Shards in my chest, which were spinning so fast they hummed. Beneath me, the Sunken Sentinel loomed. It was a monstrosity of coral-encrusted stone, easily the size of a skyscraper. Its "eyes" were twin lanterns of pale green necro-fire, and its arms were gargantuan anchors of rusted celestial iron.
Internal Monologue: I can't feel my legs. I can't feel the water. I only feel the fifth shard. It's right behind that thing's ribs.
First Person POV: The Sentinel's Judgment
The Sentinel didn't move with speed; it moved with inevitability. It raised a massive hand, and the Aether-Fluid around me began to solidify, forming a localized gravity well.
"You... are... not... ready," a voice boomed, vibrating through my very atoms. It wasn't Bali, and it wasn't the System. It was the collective consciousness of the seals.
I tried to use Void Step, but the space here was locked. "I didn't ask for permission," I rasped, my voice bubbling out as violet foam.
I forced my body into the Ashura's Avatar form. It was a gamble—smaller surface area meant less pressure, but less armor. I stood in the dark, a small speck of saffron light against the mountain of stone.
[System Alert] Enemy Scanned: Sunken Sentinel (Tier 7 - Ancient Guardian). Weakness: The Heart-Core (Currently shielded by 400 layers of Abyssal Coral). Survival Chance: 2%.
"Two percent," I whispered, a jagged smile appearing on my human face. "That's a 100% increase from the last fight."
Third Person POV: The Surface of the Trench
Above the vortex, the Sovereign's Wrath sat in a sea of boiling steam. Admiral Vane watched the depth-sensors with grim satisfaction.
"The God-Slayer beam hit him dead center," Vane said. "Nothing survives that. Not even a Calamity."
But Meera was still there. She floated on the surface, her Blue Phoenix form battered, her azure robes singed. She looked down into the black water, her eyes glowing with a desperate intensity. She could still feel the link—the faint, rhythmic pulse of the Shards.
"He's not dead," she whispered to the wind. "He's just getting started."
Suddenly, the ocean began to retreat. A massive whirlpool formed, sucking the First Fleet toward the center. The seals were no longer just holding things in; they were pulling everything down.
First Person POV: The Necrotic Surge
The Sentinel's anchor-hand slammed into me. I used Shadow Aegis, but the blow was so powerful it shattered the skill instantly. I was sent spiraling into the coral walls, my ribs snapping like dry twigs.
[Warning]: Total Soul-Core Collapse in 30 seconds.
Is this it? To die in the dark, forgotten by two worlds?
No.
I reached into the "Between," the dimension I touched during Void Step. I didn't try to move through it; I tried to pull it into this world. I tapped into the Ashura's Breath like never before, not as a fuel, but as a bridge.
"System... override the safety limiters. Give me everything. Every drop of essence from the Hounds, the Chimera, and the Vessel."
[System Response]: Evolutionary Overload detected. If you proceed, the "Human" part of your soul will be permanently scorched. Do you accept?
I accepted the moment I bit Kael's drake.
"Accept."
A pillar of violet light erupted from my chest. My body didn't grow larger; it became denser. My skin turned the color of a dying star, and the four Shards merged into a single, rotating ring of fire behind my head.
[Temporary State Unlocked]: Fragmented God-King Mode.
I moved. To the Sentinel, I was a blur of light. I didn't punch; I passed through its chest like a ghost. My hand reached into the layers of Abyssal Coral, my fingers burning through the ancient stone.
I grabbed the fifth Shard.
The Vision: PatalLok's Heart
The moment my fingers touched the fifth Shard, the Sentinel froze. The green fire in its eyes went out.
I wasn't in the trench anymore. I was standing in a throne room made of bone. On the throne sat a man who looked like Raghav, but his eyes were filled with the void of PatalLok. This was Bali—not the monster the legends spoke of, but the King of the Underworld.
"The fifth Shard is the Shard of Truth," Bali said, his voice a gentle hum. "Do you know why Raghav sealed me, Ray? It wasn't because I was evil. it was because I wanted to give humans the power to kill the gods of the Saffron Plane. Raghav was afraid of the freedom I offered."
Bali stood up, walking toward me. "Arjun wants the Shards to become a god. I want you to have them to end the gods. Choose your master, Heir of the Requiem."
First Person POV: The Choice
The vision faded. I was back in the silence of the abyss, the fifth Shard pulsing in my hand.
[System Notification] Soul Shard Fragment (5/12) Acquired. New Ability: Will of the Underworld (Control over Tier 5 and below necrotic entities).
The Sunken Sentinel began to crumble, its purpose fulfilled. As it disintegrated, a massive tunnel opened behind it—the true path to PatalLok.
But I wasn't looking at the tunnel. I was looking up. Through the miles of water, I could see the golden hulls of the First Fleet. They were still there, still trying to cage the world.
"Meera," I whispered through the link. "Get out of there. I'm coming up. And I'm bringing the Abyss with me."
I didn't swim. I commanded the Aether-Fluid. With a flick of my wrist, the water itself propelled me upward like a volcanic eruption.
The Surface: Third Person POV
Admiral Vane didn't have time to give the order to fire. The ocean beneath the Sovereign's Wrath didn't just explode; it rose. A hand made of black water and shadow, five hundred feet wide, reached out of the depths and gripped the flagship's hull.
From the center of the palm, a young man stepped out onto the deck. He was covered in obsidian markings, a ring of saffron fire spinning behind him.
He looked at Vane, and the Admiral's mechanical eye short-circuited.
"The Admiral is relieved of duty," Ray said.
With a single word, the entire First Fleet began to sink, not because of damage, but because the water itself refused to hold them.