The abyss rippled.
The entity did not retreat.
It learned.
Where its fractured spiral had once unraveled, now it reformed tighter, sharper, its limbs no longer collapsing but mirroring. Every shard Vemy had struck it with—every spark of Prismarine that had grazed its body—was not destroyed. It had been taken.
A new storm unfurled around it.
Not of black geometry.
But of Prismarine.
Vemy froze, his shards stuttering mid-orbit. His storm had always been his defiance—his one weapon against infinity. But now, before his eyes, the entity's halo burned with that same fractured fire, shards orbiting it in perfect symmetry. His storm—reflected, twisted, made obedient.
[Warning: Prismarine Signature Compromised.]
[Stability: Collapse Imminent.]
Pain seared through his body as shards broke from his own orbit, drawn to the entity like iron to a magnet. His storm—his soul—was being ripped away.
"No…" His grip tightened on his spear, veins burning bright. "That's mine."
The entity's voice layered through the void, cruel in its calm.
"Nothing is yours.
All cycles belong to me."
The stolen shards darted outward, slashing toward him in perfect arcs. His own weapons—his own essence—turned against him. Each strike carved into him deeper than any wound, his body convulsing under the betrayal of his own light.
Akiar's lightning flared in the distance, his voice raw:
"Vemy—pull back! You can't fight it if it's taking your storm!"
But Vemy didn't retreat.
Couldn't retreat.
Blood spilled from his mouth, dripping onto the Prismarine cracks in his chest. His wings faltered, one disintegrating into glass dust. But his eyes burned fiercer, his teeth bared in a smile too sharp for despair.
"If you're stealing my shards…"
He raised his spear, broken light trembling along its edge.
"…then take this too."
Prismarine ignited in his veins—not as storm, not as weapon. As detonation.
[System Lock Override.]
[Forbidden Sequence Initiated: Prismarine Overbreak.]
His remaining shards convulsed, their orbit collapsing into a core that pulsed with unstable fury. The entity's stolen storm shuddered in response, dragged toward him against its will.
For the first time—
The god faltered.
"You would destroy yourself," it rumbled.
Vemy laughed through blood.
"I already have."
He dove, shards screaming, spear poised to drive straight into the heart of the stolen storm.
The abyss convulsed. The two storms—one born of defiance, the other of theft—spiraled toward collision.
And then—
Silence.
A single heartbeat before the explosion that could fracture infinity itself.