"Huh! What is that?" one of the survivors said with a low voice.
"A sword, just appeared out of nowhere," said a woman weakly as she stepped back into the wall.
"What's a sword going to do? Our laser rifles barely scratched that thing," a man huddled behind her said.
Morrigan didn't answer their meaningless questions, she simply stared at the weapon in her hand.
It pulsated with a cold, divine light, blue like the last star in a dead starry sky.
She was skeptical, too. But then, her mind was flooded with knowledge of how to use the sword from the sword itself. It was as if the sword were alive and teaching her, but to Morrigan, it was a jarring experience.
She immediately steadied herself and then turned toward the breached entrance of the chamber, where the Zerg General stood, unaware of her divine transformation, it continued striking the upper part of the chamber.
"Three more attacks, and it would completely destroy the roof of the chamber," Morrigan thought and without hesitating anymore she raised her blue sword and slashed it through the air vertically.
Whoosh!
A blinding blue crescent of energy burst forth from its sharp edge.
It cut through the chamber walls and roof as if it were butter. It then sliced straight through the Zerg General's body, cleaving it before it could react.
It carved a raging scar into the underground ceiling, shaking the entire planet's surface.
The Zerg General's body split cleanly in two and fell to the ground with a wet, sickening thud.
For several seconds, not a single one of them spoke. Even Morrigan stood stunned for a moment. The survivors could only stare, mouths agape, at the glowing sword in Morrigan's hand.
Exhausted from her attack, Morrigan collapsed to the ground on one knee.
"Morrigan!" someone shouted.
But before anyone could move toward her, her body shimmered faintly. A strange warmth pulsed from her abdomen, and in an instant, she was on her feet again, fully rejuvenated by the Endborne physique.
The survivors exchanged glances, confused and awestruck. "How did she do that?" a man said softly, still shaken but his eyes looked at the sword with hope in his eyes.
No one answered him as they stepped closer to her one by one, circling around her like pilgrims before an altar.
Their eyes glistened not with tears but with something they hadn't felt in decades: belief that their struggles would soon end.
Morrigan said nothing as she turned away from them and walked toward the corpse of the Zerg General.
With a quick movement, she plunged the blade into its torso.
A low hum filled the chamber as the sword absorbed its energy. The corpse shrank before their eyes as its vitality was siphoned into Morrigan.
Her skin began to glow; first faintly, then bright red as if bathed in molten dawn. Her wrinkles vanished, her back straightened, her hair thickened. Before their eyes, the old woman they knew began to transform into a young woman.
"Wh—what?! Did she just become younger?" a man gasped.
"Do you think she'd tell us her secret?" another man, who used to be her age, asked, his eyes wide.
The third man, the oldest of the group, remained silent at first. He stared at her, his expression a mixture of awe and unease.
"That's not the Morrigan I remember," he finally said in a low voice.
"We can all see she's changed. Of course she would be different," someone replied.
"No," the old man said, narrowing his eyes.
"It's not just her face," he said. "It's her presence. Her silence. Her walk. She's not the same person she was minutes ago. She's completely different from the person who was fighting with us just a few minutes ago."
But they didn't take his words seriously. They were focused on how to become younger like her and have a longer lifespan to make up for the time lost in the bunkers and in hiding.
Morrigan stood above the second half of the Zerg's corpse, pierced it, and absorbed its energy. Then she turned back toward them, looking calm, clear-eyed, and powerful.
"I can hear you, you know," she said flatly, her eyes flicking to the three old men. "And don't worry...especially you three."
A ripple of uncertain but real laughter passed through the group.
"Finally," a woman said, her voice trembling with cautious joy. "Maybe, maybe we don't have to run anymore. With Morrigan here, I think we can finally fight back."
"I don't think so, she is just one and our enemies are in the millions if not billions, what can one person accomplish, I think you can see it." her husband said it.
"What do we need to do? To be young again," one of the old men asked.
Morrigan's eyes burned with blue fire and her posture was tall and commanding. The energy of the slain Zerg General still coursed through her. "Asking what matters most to you huh," she said teasingly.
The old man didn't seem embarrassed. Instead, he said, "Yeah, I feel like I have a few years left in me. If the Zerg don't get me before my end, who wouldn't want to live longer?"
"Offer your faith," she said, her voice ringing with a zeal that startled them.
"Your soul. Your fate. Offer everything, sincerely, to the God of the Endless End."
As she spoke, her hands tightened around the glowing sword, and the others could almost feel the hum of divine power radiating from her skin.
One of the old men took a step back. "You want us to believe in God? After everything?" he scoffed. Bitterness hung heavy in his voice.
"We've believed in the a hundred so-called gods. They did nothing for us, they're all gone. All dead." said another old man.
Morrigan turned her gaze on him. There was no anger in her eyes, only certainty.
"Yes, I want you to believe in a god," she said calmly but firmly. "But this one is real. You see the miracle standing before you."
She raised her hand, and the glowing sword tattoo pulsed brighter.
"Look at me. You knew me when I was wrinkled, dying, and exhausted. Now, I am more than I was in my youth. I have power. I've killed what none of us could even harm easily. And this is only the beginning."
The three old men exchanged glances. Their eyes held doubt but also longing. Then one of them asked the real question:
"Will we become like you? Strong, young, and alive again?"
Morrigan paused. Her tone dropped, becoming serious rather than divine.
"Yes, you can, but not for free."
She looked each of them in the eye. "The God of the Endless End doesn't hand out charity. You must give everything. No hesitation. No half-measures."
"Once you offer your faith, it is no longer yours to take back."
"But in return, you will rise— Stronger than you've ever dreamed."
Silence fell again, but it wasn't the silence of fear anymore. It was the silence that precedes a life-changing decision.
Each silent breath the survivors took seemed to carry the weight of decades of running, hiding, and dying a little more each day.
Then, one of the old men stepped forward.
His hand trembled, not from fear, but from the life-changing decision he was about to make.
"If what you say is true," he said, his eyes locked on Morrigan's glowing blue blade, "then what do I have left to lose?"
He dropped to his knees. The others gasped.
"I, Gravan Vos, the last sentinel of the Greti Empire, offer my soul, my fate, and everything to the God of the Endless End."
"If he grants me power, then let it be so."
The words echoed in the chamber, and the moment he spoke, a thin golden thread emerged from his chest.
Morrigan watched as the golden energy of faith floated upward and vanished into the void above, as if swallowed by something far greater.
At the same time, Lex, in his dojo in the Void Sea, opened his eyes, awakening from his deep meditation.
He smiled faintly as he felt the thread coil around his being. "The second believer," he murmured. "Good."
"The first follower creates the path. The second proves it's walkable. I guess that, within three million years, that universe will be ready for me to devour it," he said as he looked at the faith energy.
Seeing that Gravan wanted to be younger, he passed a tiny drop of divine energy through the Karmic Link.
Back in the chamber, Gravan's back straightened as soon as the drop of energy touched his soul. His eyes cleared. His breathing calmed.
The others stared, caught between disbelief and dawning desire.
"He looks like he returned to his forties," one of them whispered.
"Look at his spine and hands! All the wrinkles are gone."
"Who's next?" Morrigan said as she looked at the others.
"It's real. It's actually real," a woman said while stepping forward. Her face was hollow, her skin pale, and her eyes were sunken from too many sleepless nights.
"I've lost four children and their father," she said standing in front of Morrigan, her voice shaking. "And I've watched this war eat everything I ever loved."
She looked at Morrigan, and for the first time in years, there was fire in her gaze.
"If this god exists and gives us a chance to fight back as you say, then I don't care what it costs."
She then dropped to her knees and continued, "I, Seraya Venn, offer my soul, my fate, and everything, to the God of the Endless End."
A golden thread of faith appeared from her chest and drifted upward, just as Gravan's had, disappearing into the void through the Karmic Link.
"Another," Morrigan said firmly.
Then came a third. Then a fourth. One by one, they knelt—not out of blind faith, but from brokenness, desperation, and the hope of one day avenging those they'd lost.
Two hours later, all two hundred survivors had pledged themselves to Lex.
"They've all become my believers," Lex murmured, seeing the golden faith energy. "Now it's time to give them the power to survive. And the power to spread my faith to the rest of the survivors in universe."
With a casual wave of his hand, threads of law materialized in front of him. But the moment they appeared, they shattered and disappeared.
Lex sighed with amusement. "I forgot that universal laws can't exist in the Voidsea."
He extended his hand again, this time creating a personal domain—a stable construct where laws could take form.
He then rematerialized the law threads; they were now stable and vibrant. Among them, one caught his eye more than the rest: the Law of Gravity.
He grasped the thread of the law of gravity and began to divide it, literally splitting it into smaller, functional principles with his other hand.
"Let's start with the basics," he said quietly, looking at the small fragment of the gravity law thread. "This would be the weight shift ability," he said, letting the law thread float to his left.
"This is the gravitic grasp ability," he continued, "This is ground binding."
After a few minutes, he had extracted two hundred abilities from the gravity thread. "This will give them a taste—just enough to make them more devoted," he said.
Then he waved and the tiny threads of ability fused with the karmic links between him and his new believers. Within seconds, these abilities appeared inside their bodies