Chapter 128: The Rebirth of a God
Theme: "Requiem of the Forsaken" – Hiroyuki Sawano (dark orchestral with rising war drums and ghostly choirs)
In the heart of The Ten's hidden stronghold, the torches flickered low and the room was carved with centuries of history—etched runes, fossilized markings, and walls that whispered the secrets of fallen civilizations. The air was heavy with incense and Shen energy. It smelled like old gods. Like rebirth.
Standing at the center was Papa Tunde, the second-in-command of The Ten—his dark cloak draping across the ancient stone. He turned to Huey the First, his voice solemn and filled with reverence.
"The altar is set, just as you instructed before your dismissal, my lord."
Huey's eyes locked on the ritual site. A simple formation of five ancient stones, five wax-dripped candles, and a root segment from the God Tree,Yggdrasil,rested atop a blood-soaked tapestry. It pulsed with dormant life. The time had come.
He turned to the one chosen for the task—Draven of the Dusk Clan.
"This altar is the gateway, Draven. You must first use your All-Creation Eyes to access the land of the forgotten… the underworld. That root you see? A piece of Yggdrasil . It will anchor Lord Arcade's spirit to your body. But I warn you—" his voice hardened, "the way of the dead is not like the world of the living. There is no forgiveness, only absolutes so you must be very careful golden boy."
Draven cracked his neck.
"No problem. Once I'm done with this, I intend to do whatever I want from here onward ."
Huey smirked. "I hold no grudge against you golden boy. Go."
Draven stepped forward. His hands formed the Tiger Seal, and he stared into his palm. Shen energy surged through his bloodstream like wildfire. His bones trembled. His veins glowed. His irises spiraled as the All-Creation Eyes awakened fully—patterns like galaxies forming in his gaze.
He whispered:
"Secret Art: Soul Extraction — Life and Death Extortion Technique."
In an instant, the ground split.
A roar of Shen energy exploded upward like a geyser. The candles extinguished, the moon cracked, and a violent wind knocked several cultists to their knees. The room was consumed by a massive vortex of black and red smoke, all of it swirling around Draven's body.
Every inmate from Alcatraz—every warrior, every recruit—felt it, even those far outside the room. The weight of death, of resurrection, of something unnatural.
Papa Tunde's voice cracked as he stepped back, shielding his eyes from the whirlwind.
"Did it work…? Will our lord be pleased?"
But Huey said nothing. He stood tall, eyes fixed on the smoke.
And then… silence.
The smoke dissolved.
Draven stood in the center—unmoved, silent, his back to them.
He didn't twitch. He didn't breathe.
Then the doors creaked open.
Napoleon Bonaparte and Lord Julius Caesar entered the chamber. They knelt instantly.
"My lord."
Huey fell to one knee.
Papa Tunde, realizing the truth, collapsed down as well.
And then it came.
The Shen aura that erupted was unlike anything alive. The very walls cracked. The ground beneath their knees split open. The space distorted.
A voice spoke—but it wasn't a voice. It was a thousand overlapping tones, speaking in perfect unity. It didn't echo. It commanded.
"Power is not kindness. Power is not fairness. Power is the ability to shape the world to your will."
They all bowed deeper.
"Huey. Why have you failed me?" The voice was filled with divine wrath.
"Why do I awaken inside a host body that has no idea what it carries?"
Huey kept his head bowed. "My lord, the final hybrid has not yet been sealed into the Coffin. We tried, but the last link was found but it had already made bound with the soul of its carrier I… I accept full blame. Please, forgive my failures."
Silence.
Then:
"I will forgive your foolishness, Huey. But you have delayed the inevitable. You've set us back. Still… this body…"
Draven—now housing Lord Arcade's spirit—turned, his eyes glowing a radiant red. The divine aura pouring from him twisted the very air.
He lifted his palm upwards as he admired Draven's body.
"I am not at full strength. But this body… is useful, as we share the same bloodline"
A cold smile followed.
"It is good to see you again, Huey. My beloved."
Huey lowered his head further. "My lord. Welcome back."
Far away—across snowy peaks—Sakamoto and Asger trekked in silence.
Until suddenly—Sakamoto collapsed.
His body dropped like dead weight into the snow.
"Sakamoto!?" Asger shouted, rushing over.
But his body was still breathing—calm. His mind, however, had gone somewhere else entirely.
Inside his subconsciousness, Sakamoto found himself floating in a realm of impossible light—The Heaven Between Realms. It wasn't divine. It was quiet, vast, and mysterious.
Before him sat a figure with no form, its body made of dark mist and a long, coiled tail that faded into the cosmos.
It spoke—not aloud, but through him.
"Finally… we meet."
End of Chapter 128
Next Chapter: "The Voice in the Void"