When I opened my eyes, everything blurred. It was as if I were drunk, like I'd downed five bottles of beer. Small fry. Sort of drunk, but not too much. A kaleidoscope of colors spun around me, and my legs trembled. What the hell? Why did I feel so awful?
Looking deep within myself, I saw something I never expected to see. That damned creature had drained my core. It was only filled to a tiny fraction, but even that would've been enough to kill everyone in this place. Except…
I collapsed, as if hit by an earthquake, and the weakness in my entire body, like I'd been poisoned, kept me from avenging such a betrayal. A weak child—that's what I was now. Damn it.
The clamor around me seemed to drown out all sounds, and the ringing in my ears, like my heartbeat, made it clear things were bad. My consciousness was slowly slipping away. I closed my eyes.
Only to open them again, this time in a different position. Upside down. My right leg was gripped in a vise, and the whole world was inverted. A familiar face—the exorcist holding me by the leg with his right hand. In his left hand was the object I so desperately needed.
The creature's head, with its open mouth and rolled-back eyes, was only partially satisfying to look at. I wanted to kill it myself. The creature that had taken control of me infuriated me so much that my rage still wouldn't subside. It pissed me off even more than my own weakness. Damn mind control.
"What now?" My tongue, like the heaviest object, barely moved. I knew this was only the beginning.
"Now?" He glanced around. I didn't have the strength to do the same, but the light filtering in was from the sun, so we were outside, and my nose caught the smell of dust. What had happened while I was out? And how did he kill that creature? He looked straight into my eyes. "Now, there will be a trial."
Putting an end to my heavy thoughts with his words, his eyes turned white, and I was enveloped in the same light. I… was losing… consciousness…
When I opened my eyes again, a white haze stood before me. Not the blinding light that had enveloped me in that final moment, but a thick fog through which the outlines of objects barely broke through. My body still felt weak, but at least my head had stopped spinning. That was something.
"Defendant, rise," a voice rang out, and I realized I was lying on something cold and hard.
A trial. The exorcist wasn't joking. Some damned trial was about to be held over someone who was himself a victim. Irony worthy of this cursed world.
I tried to stand, but my body obeyed reluctantly. Finally, I managed to sit up and look around. The fog began to dissipate, and I saw I was in the middle of a circular hall. The walls stretched high, disappearing into the darkness. Around the perimeter were stands filled with figures in dark robes. Their faces were hidden by hoods, but I felt it—all their gazes were fixed on me. And they all had red eyes. Who were they? Definitely not human.
"Defendant," the same voice repeated, and I turned my head to the left.
Behind a tall podium sat an old man with a long white beard. His eyes glowed with an unnatural red light, and on his forehead was a symbol I couldn't make out. The sun? Helios?
To his right sat a middle-aged woman with a stone-cold expression and golden runes glowing on her wrists. To his left was the exorcist, the same one who dragged me here. Now he looked even more indifferent than before. The creature's head lay on the table in front of him, its eyes still rolled back, its mouth frozen in a silent scream.
My hands were in chains, as was my entire body. The chains were covered in symbols I didn't recognize. They glowed faintly.
"You are accused of aiding an entity of the 'Akme' class," the old man said, tapping his bony fingers on the table. "As a result of your… cooperation, two hundred people perished. The last temple of Exorcisia was destroyed. The third level of the planet's defenses was breached."
"I didn't…" I tried to protest, but my throat seized, and only a rasp escaped. Weakness throughout my body, strange and infuriating.
"Silence," the woman snapped sharply. "Your guilt is obvious. Your core was synchronized with the entity. You allowed it to use your powers."
"I was under control," I finally managed, each word coming with effort. "That creature got into my head when I wasn't expecting it. I fought… fought the whole time. But I couldn't…"
The exorcist leaned toward the old man and whispered something in his ear. The old man frowned even more.
"Nevertheless," the old man continued, "the fact remains. Such a merger is impossible without voluntary consent. Either you agreed, or you were so weak you couldn't resist. In either case, the blame lies with you."
A whisper rippled through the hall. The stands stirred, the robed figures leaning toward each other, discussing something. I heard laughter. The sound grated on my ears like a rusty knife on stone—quiet but piercing, full of contempt and malice. It seemed they weren't just judging me; they were reveling in the process, like vultures sensing fresh carrion. My weakness, my loss of control, my blood on their hands—they relished it. And that ignited something new in me. Not strength, not yet. But rage.
"Enough," the old man at the podium slammed his fist on the table, and the hall fell silent instantly. His red eyes bored into me like burning coals. "We are not here to be entertained. Defendant, your actions led to a catastrophe. But there is a chance you speak the truth. We have seen your memories, extracted from your mind while you were unconscious. Yes, there was control. But the weakness was yours. And weakness is paid for in blood."
"Blood?" The word slipped out, and my voice trembled. I tried to stand, but my legs gave way, and I collapsed back onto the cold floor. "I didn't ask for this! I was used like… like a damned weapon! I couldn't do anything!"
"That is precisely why you are still alive," the woman with the golden runes on her wrists cut in. Her voice was cold as ice, but it carried a hidden threat. "But your life hangs by a thread. We offer you a choice. The first—death. Quick, but not painless. The second—redemption. Prove you are worthy of living. Prove you can be more than a broken tool in the hands of an ancient creature."
The exorcist remained silent, but his gaze was heavy as lead. He looked at me not with hatred but with something like expectation. As if he knew what I would choose. As if he'd seen this scenario a thousand times.
"What kind of redemption?" I asked, gritting my teeth. Inside, everything boiled. I didn't want to die. Not here, not like this, not under their mocking gazes. Damned creatures.
The old man nodded, as if expecting the question. He waved his hand, and the floor beneath me trembled. The stone slabs began to part with a heavy grinding sound, revealing a black pit from which came the stench of rot and iron. Sounds emerged—a low growl, the scrape of claws on stone, the clank of chains. And then—a scream. One that made the blood in my veins freeze. It wasn't a human cry, but something more terrifying, more ravenous.
"A trial," the old man said, his lips curling into a thin smile. "Below awaits a creature you unwittingly helped create. Your connection with Apophia left a mark. Part of its energy mixed with your blood, and from it, this… beast was born. Kill it. Or be torn apart."
He shouldn't have done that.
Whimpering and furious cries of the creature that had lived… how long had I been here?
"What's happening?!" the woman shouted, half-rising from her seat.
"Ah, refreshing." Breaking the chains, I rubbed my stiff hands.
Slowly, I tore apart all the chains on my body. The energy absorbed from the creature, which, according to these idiots, was my creation, was returning to its rightful place.
The feeling of weakness that had plagued me lately was fading, and the strength that had been with me for years was coming back. Strength that could move planets and dry oceans, strength that was mine by right of birth in this world. And some creatures dared to toy with me?
I smirked. It was time to fix my situation.
"I'm sick of every creature thinking they can push me around."
The exorcist only managed to raise his hand, which glowed with that infuriating white light, before he lost his head. A dash—just ten percent of my full strength, and even that was too much for such pathetic beings. Holding the head of the man who dared to exploit my vulnerability, I asked the shocked and terrified red-eyed non-humans:
"Shall we play?"
With the death of that exorcist, whoever he was, the fog in the courtroom dissipated completely, revealing ancient stone walls covered in moss and cracks. This wasn't just a hall—it was an ancient castle, lost somewhere in the suburbs of London, steeped in the smell of dampness and blood. My X-ray vision returned and showed me familiar places. Not bad for bloodsuckers.
Children, women, and young men lay unconscious below me, hooked up to artificial life support. Some solution was being pumped into their veins, and some guys, like workers in medical facilities, were collecting blood from the veins of everyone beneath me.
Disgusting. The creature that pretended to be Jane apparently forgot to mention a small detail about this Helios—that they were creating, damn it, human farms. I'll kill them all.
The red-eyed figures in hoods leaped from the stands, their hands glowing crimson, and the air filled with a hum. The old man with the white beard shouted something in an ancient language, and the floor beneath me trembled again, but I was no longer the weak child who had collapsed before these creatures. Strength coursed through my veins like molten lava, and I felt its pulse in every heartbeat.
The woman with the golden runes lunged forward, her wrists flaring brighter, forming spears of blood-red light in the air. One of them shot toward me, but I dodged, almost lazily, and with a crunch, drove my fist into her chest. Bones snapped like dry twigs, and her body flew into the wall, leaving a bloody smear on the stone. She didn't even have time to scream. The old man tried to conjure a barrier—a shimmering web of red threads—but I charged at him, tearing through the obstacle like a spiderweb. My hand closed around his throat, and with a light motion, I ripped his spine out through his neck. His beard stained red, and his body went limp, collapsing onto the podium.
Two down.
A scream of horror echoed through the hall. The red-eyed ones rushed to attack—some summoned shadowy creatures, others hurled lightning, but it was all too slow, too pathetic. I moved among them like a hurricane through straw huts. I tore out one's heart, crushing it in my fist until it crunched; another's head was smashed against the wall; a third lost both legs in a single blow, left writhing in a pool of their own blood. Blood sprayed the walls, flooded the floor, mixing with dust and stone fragments. One of them, screaming desperately, tried to flee to the massive doors, but I hurled a charred table fragment at him—the wood pierced his chest, pinning him to the door.
It was over in minutes. Silence fell abruptly, broken only by the gasps of the dying and the drip of blood falling from my fist. I surveyed the hall—headless bodies, torn limbs, crushed stands. The creature's head, which had lain before the exorcist, now rolled in a corner, trampled into the floor. Boring. They couldn't even put up a real fight. Like cattle in a slaughterhouse.
My rage clouded my mind for a moment, but that was enough. It all poured out into this massacre.
What irony: creatures that drink blood died in blood.
I noticed a phone that had fallen from the pocket of one of the hooded figures. Picking it up, I unlocked the screen—the dead finger's print worked perfectly. The date on the screen showed surprising numbers. Two months had passed since the day I lost consciousness. Since I fell under control. What the hell?
News headlines screamed: "War," "Famine," "Plague," "Death." Scrolling through the feed, I saw countless photos—devastated cities from a new virus, cracks in the earth from powerful earthquakes, bodies of soldiers in gear like the kind I once had. Starving children. Wars over food.
The world was falling apart while I was out. It's always falling apart, in a way. But those greedy people who think their money means something when I exist… They're living comfortably now. And the Earth was bleeding. Dying.
They live, enjoying life, while billions fight for the right to exist. And me? Just a fool.
And somewhere out there, in this chaos, were those who caused it all. And those who once saw me as a hero had now lost hope.
But I am a conqueror. The one who was supposed to deliver this planet to my empire on a silver platter. But the empire is gone, and there's an enemy that will come here. One against many.
But what if I'm not alone? Thoughts filled my head. Again. For years, I'd considered this option but never dared.
"Damn it." The floor, like the castle, trembled, startling everyone inside. The still-living creatures began scurrying like cockroaches.
To hell with it, there was no choice. I'd had enough. I'd burn this planet to ashes, but I'd make something worthwhile out of it. Helios turned out to be a breeding ground for creatures that needed to be purged, and the planet had plunged into total chaos. I was gone for just two months, and this happened.
I had to try to save something on this planet.
Brainwashing, as it turned out, clears the mind quite well.
I tossed the phone aside, frowning. It was time to find them. And show them what real power was. Time to establish a new world order. An order created so humanity could live in peace and thrive.
But first, it was time to go home.
Damn, how were Kate and Tori doing…