"The Apex of Apexes?" Zane repeated, his voice hushed. "Who… who is that?"
The name alone sent a chill down his spine. It sounded less like a title and more like a curse. Like something whispered in fear.
Onilia turned toward him, her expression unusually serious. The blue glow of the crystal lights overhead reflected off her eyes, making them shimmer like cold sapphires.
"You remember during the tutorials," she began, her voice calm but firm, "When the system asked you to choose your username?"
Zane nodded slowly. "Yeah. It said I had twenty-four hours to choose one. I didn't fully understand what it meant though."
"Exactly." She took a few steps forward, her boots making soft taps against the floor. "If you don't pick a name, the system analyzes your traits—your skills, your nature, your potential—and then assigns a name that fits. Most people pick something cool or personal before that timer runs out. But some don't."
Zane tilted his head. "So… what does that have to do with the Destroyer?"
Onilia's gaze darkened. She folded her arms and stared out the window for a moment, as if trying to piece together the right words.
"My opponent—him—never chose a name," she said. "The system chose one for him. Based entirely on what he was… what he still is."
She turned back to Zane. "The Destroyer."
The room seemed to quiet even more at that name.
"His real name was erased. Forgotten, or maybe buried. All that's left is a title—The Destroyer—granted by the system itself. You don't get a name like that by accident, Zane. You earn it. Or worse, you become it."
Zane's stomach tightened. "What's he like?"
Onilia took a deep breath. "He awakened as an Apex. One of the rarest starts. Strong right from the beginning. He didn't need to climb the ladder like the rest of us. He was already at the top."
She paced slowly, her voice quieter now, heavier. "Every Ranking Competition he's entered, he's won. Every opponent? Crushed. Every planet he's conquered? Either sold off, stripped for resources, or enslaved entirely. He doesn't just defeat people—he breaks them. Erases them. That's always been his pattern."
Zane's fists clenched slightly. "So he's also… Apex-ranked?"
Onilia hesitated. Her lips parted, then closed again. Finally, she spoke.
"He's called Apex… but some people think he's something else. Something worse. An Error."
She leaned back against the wall, her arms crossed. "People whisper that he didn't just earn power—he was made for destruction. A walking apocalypse. And now… he's my opponent."
Zane stared at her, completely stunned. He could barely process it.
Onilia looked down at her hand, curling her fingers into a fist. "I'm not doing this just to save myself. I'm doing it for my people. My home. If I lose this fight… my entire planet is gone. My family will be sold into chains."
She met his eyes again, her voice steady—but behind it was a quiet pain, heavy and raw.
Zane wasn't the kind of guy who cared much about the world. Honestly, if everything burned to the ground tomorrow, he wouldn't flinch—so long as Ariel was safe. As long as she was okay, the rest of the world could crash and burn for all he cared.
But seeing Onilia now, standing tall with the weight of her entire planet on her shoulders? That did something to him.
She wasn't just fighting for herself. She was walking headfirst into hell, not for glory, not for pride—but for her people. For her home.
And she was going to face a god-tier monster?
Zane didn't even know what to feel anymore. Admiration? Pity? Maybe a bit of both. Her will was like iron. Strong and steady, even in the face of certain death.
Damn... she's really something.
He leaned back slightly, folding his arms as he watched her. "I know people who would've ended it all the second they learned they were up against someone like that," he thought aloud.
There was a short pause. He asked, quietly, "Is there… even a chance you could win?"
Onilia's eyes didn't waver. "No," she said bluntly. "Not yet, at least."
Her voice was steady, without an ounce of hesitation. No false hope. Just cold, honest truth.
She stepped forward and placed a hand on her hip.
"There will be ten of us. The ten strongest from my planet. We'll face off against ten of theirs. He—The Destroyer—is one of them," she said, her tone calm but heavy.
Zane furrowed his brows.
"I came here to find allies," she corrected. "If I can gather strong enough people to fight by my side, maybe we'll stand a chance."
Zane blinked, thinking that over. Then he asked, "Is that even allowed? I mean… getting help from other planets?"
Onilia gave a small nod. "Yes. It's allowed—as long as the person isn't forced. The system considers it a partnership. If both sides agree willingly, then it's legal."
She moved over to the table and picked up a small glass of water, taking a slow sip before continuing. "But there's a catch. A big one."
Zane raised an eyebrow. "Let me guess. If you lose… it affects your allies too?"
"Exactly," she said, setting the glass down. "When one side loses, everyone on that side suffers the consequences. Including those who joined from other planets. That's why people avoid these kinds of partnerships. No one wants to be dragged down with someone else's war."
Zane let out a soft whistle. "Harsh."
Then he tilted his head, eyeing her with a mix of confusion and curiosity. "Okay, but if you can get outside help… why the hell are you wasting time with me? Shouldn't you be hanging out with Nenis and the other Apex-ranked monsters? You know—the ones with actual power?"
Onilia gave him a faint smirk.
"Follow me," Onilia said, her voice calm but firm, as she led Zane down the winding stairs and out into the open air.
They stepped into what looked like a private training ground. The place was massive—smooth stone floors, tall pillars, and racks filled with all kinds of gear. It was wide, with faint scars from past battles marking the stone floors like old wounds.
"Hey, you still haven't answered my question," Zane called, following close behind her, his steps echoing slightly.
Onilia paused for a second but didn't look back.
The truth was… she didn't really have an answer.
Why had she chosen him?
She wasn't sure herself. She could've picked any of the stronger ones. People who had reached heights Zane hadn't even glimpsed yet. But instead… she stayed with him.
Back when she first arrived on Planet Zoic, her mind had been focused. She was here for one reason: to take part in the Master's brutal training, to grow stronger for the interplanetary Awakened competition. No distractions. No nonsense.
She had stood among the crowd of hopefuls, most of them from powerful planets, each of them brimming with potential. She waited silently with the others, all eager for the Master to arrive.
Then the portal opened.
And out stepped a child.
Pale skin. Messy brown hair. A body so skinny he looked like he hadn't eaten in weeks. He stumbled through the portal—and died before he even hit the ground.
Dead.
Just like that.
Onilia remembered the disgust that curled in her chest. What an idiot, she thought at the time. Does he think the Master's training is a joke?
To her, Zane had looked like a walking corpse. Weak. Fragile. Completely out of her league. And in that moment, she found his presence almost offensive. She was here to sharpen herself for war—and here was this clueless fool who couldn't even stand.
But then… something strange happened.
He came back.
He died again.
And came back.
And again.
And every time he revived, he didn't complain. He didn't cry out or ask for help. He just struggled to stand on his own feet, shaky and broken, but still trying.
He kept watching others. Learning. Copying. Adjusting.
Slowly, he began to move.
And then, when the others sprinted toward the mountain, he crawled. While they leapt and soared, he dragged his body through the dirt, inch by inch.
He was weak, Onilia remembered thinking. But he was relentless.
He didn't give up—not once.
That changed something inside her. If someone like him could keep pushing, if he could survive with nothing but grit, then what excuse did she have?
As one of the strongest on her planet, how could she run away from her own destiny… when even the weakest person refused to back down?
So she started watching him. Closely.
And somewhere along the way, she decided not just to watch—but to help.
She finally turned to him now, meeting his eyes.
"I woke you up earlier than we're supposed to be because you're the weakest," she said bluntly, her tone emotionless.
Zane blinked, unsure if he'd heard that right.
"But because you're the weakest," she continued, "you don't have the luxury of sleeping like everyone else. Every second matters for you. You don't have time to waste."
She walked a few steps ahead, then turned slightly over her shoulder.
"I'll help you train," she said. "I won't hold back. I'll push you until your bones ache and your spirit cracks. But I don't expect anything in return."
Zane's brows drew together. "Why not?"
"You already made your choice. I won't beg for your help-but I'll still help you stand." she said simply.