I felt the world split.
Not in the way you imagine when the earth cracks or a storm tears through a village. No, this was different. It was as though the very fabric of reality itself had been stretched too thin, like a taut string about to snap.
I had no time to react. The world was already in motion before I could even think of moving. Magic surged through me—through the void—a tidal wave of darkness and light that collided, twisted, and consumed. The lines between what I knew to be real and what was not... became nothing.
It was chaos.
I felt the storm in my chest grow, my magic becoming something... other, something untamable and pure. My very soul stretched, pulled, and ripped by the raw force.
And yet... it felt like freedom.
I let out a breath, trembling as the energy within me surged. It cracked, twisted, and warped into something beyond any comprehension. Something worse. Something powerful beyond measure, echoing with the screams of those who had died to it.
I heard it—a sound like a thousand voices crying out at once.
The air around me tore open, the atmosphere distorting as if reality itself could no longer bear the weight of what I had unleashed.
And from the rift, something emerged.
It wasn't the creature that had plagued me before. This was far worse.
A new presence, old and ancient, that had waited for me. The storm was no longer mine to control. It had become its own force. The walls of space and time shuddered under its weight.
I wasn't the predator anymore.
I was the prey.
---
I could feel it closing in. The weight of the presence pressing on me from all directions, folding the very air into itself. The storm inside me roared louder, louder still, as though it wanted to tear apart the earth beneath me. But it wasn't mine anymore. It wasn't under my control. It was bigger, older, more wrong than anything I could've imagined.
I struggled to breathe as the dark shape before me grew clearer, looming like a nightmare made flesh. It was a being of the void, an ancient horror that existed beyond time, beyond life. Its form flickered between realities, never fully materializing, yet I felt it, the hollow cold that radiated from it. An entity that was never meant to walk the earth.
Its presence filled the air with something corrosive, a subtle, suffocating dread that clung to my skin, into my very soul. I could feel my magic trying to resist, but it wasn't enough. It was as though I was being reduced, my essence being undone by the sheer force of its existence.
The thing before me didn't move, but it didn't need to. It was a presence that filled the space around me, curling into the corners of my mind, trying to break through.
It had been waiting for me.
I knew that without question.
It was waiting for me, for what I was, for what I had become. My existence—the magic, the grimoire, the curse of my soul—had been a beacon for it, pulling it toward me, toward this moment.
And then I understood.
I had always been the key.
It wasn't just about magic anymore. It was about me. I had brought this thing into the world, without ever intending to. My very being had fractured the balance, ripped open the barrier between worlds.
I am its vessel.
And yet, as I stood there, trembling, my heart beating in time with the pulsing storm of magic inside me, I didn't feel fear. At least not the way I thought I would.
I felt... empty.
As if the universe was pulling away from me, leaving me to float in nothingness. No purpose. No path. Just a slow, suffocating pull into the depths.
I raised my hand, instinctively, as if to ward it off. The grimoire on my chest flared with violet light, the pages flipping wildly as they sought to form an answer, a counter.
But there was nothing.
Not this time.
The creature's form shifted again, breaking apart and then reforming, like ink spilling and refilling its space. Its gaze—if it had one—was locked on me, unwavering. It didn't need words to convey its intent.
It was here to take.
Everything.
And I—
I couldn't fight it.
---
"Kael!"
A voice cut through the suffocating silence, a thread of light in the endless black. I didn't need to look to know who it was. The familiar weight of magic filled the air, a sharp contrast to the crushing void of the creature before me.
Yuno.
Why is he here?
I tried to open my mouth, but no sound came out. My body felt heavy, like it didn't belong to me anymore.
And yet, the world shifted.
A figure appeared at the edge of my vision—a flash of green and gold. Asta.
Why are they here?
Their magic was rushing toward me, a tidal wave of light and fire that had no place in this dark, forsaken place. They didn't understand. They couldn't.
This wasn't something you fought. This wasn't something you could fight.
But still, their presence was… a lifeline. A thread pulling me back from the precipice.
"Kael! Hold on!" Yuno shouted.
I couldn't.
I felt the storm inside me, the writhing mass of magic—mine and something else's—start to collapse.
A twist of fate.
And the sky above shattered, splitting open like a wound, and from it, another figure descended.
---
The air tore open above us. A deafening roar split the silence, the sound of something immense, something ancient being released from its prison. It wasn't the creature from before, nor the shadowed being that had lingered in the corners of my mind. No, this was worse. This was a god, a force, a presence that I could feel with every fiber of my being.
I tried to move, to raise my hand to protect myself, but my limbs were heavy. It was like the storm had taken root in my chest and was consuming everything. My magic pulsed out of control, black and violet spiraling into the sky as the creature descended.
It was no longer the cold, impassive void that I had felt before.
It was… alive.
The sky had been torn apart, and in the center of the rift stood a being—its form flickering between shadows and solid matter. A towering figure, draped in dark robes that whispered like wind through dead leaves. Its eyes were like burning pits of nothing, the very absence of light, and I could feel my chest tighten under its gaze.
It was the embodiment of the end. Not just of me, but of all that was, of the world, of the universe.
And in its presence, I could only feel nothingness.
"Kael," the being's voice was a soft whisper, like a long-forgotten dream calling to me. "You have come so far, yet you are still blind."
My heart froze. I couldn't move. I couldn't breathe.
It spoke to me with such familiarity, such certainty, that I couldn't help but shudder.
I wanted to turn away, to run, but my legs were rooted to the spot. It was as if the very fabric of reality was tethered to this moment. The weight of everything—everything I had ever been—hung in the balance.
"You… are nothing," the being continued. "A creature forged from suffering, from the agony of existence. A mistake born of the cracks of this world. But in your brokenness… you are the key."
Its words hit me like ice-cold water, every syllable cutting deeper than I could stand.
I shook my head violently, trying to shut it out, but the storm inside me flared, a surge of power that ripped through my veins. The magic in me felt alive, hungry, desperate to respond.
"Enough…" I whispered, but my voice was barely a breath in the wind.
The being moved, gliding across the air like a wisp of smoke. The air distorted around it, warping and pulling at reality as if it didn't belong. It circled me, observing, and I could feel its intent—its gaze—caressing my very soul.
"No, Kael," it said, its voice dripping with dark amusement. "You cannot stop this. Not anymore."
Yuno. Asta.
I wanted to scream for them. I wanted to warn them that this—this thing—was beyond any magic we could wield. But all I could feel was the weight of the magic pressing against my chest, crushing me under its weight. Every breath was a battle. Every heartbeat was a slow march toward oblivion.
And then I realized.
The thing had not come to kill me.
It had come for something far worse.
It had come for what I had become.
The dark magic inside me, the grimoire I carried—the storm within me was the very force it had waited for. The world was fraying, and I was the tear.
In that moment, everything snapped into place.
The rift in the sky wasn't just the result of some random event. It was the product of my existence. The creature, the storm inside me—it had been feeding on the world's cracks, growing stronger with every ounce of darkness I unleashed.
And now, the world itself had begun to unravel.
But that didn't mean I was helpless.
I clenched my fists, feeling the burn of my scars, the weight of the grimoire, the storm of magic writhing in my chest. I would fight. I had to.
I am no one's pawn.
With a scream that tore from deep within my throat, I pushed every ounce of my magic outward. The grimoire flared, the runes glowing hot, and I unleashed everything. It was the storm I had been hiding from, the power I had tried to suppress. And now, it was free.
The sky cracked. The ground trembled beneath me.
The storm within me erupted.
The world... screamed.
---
The figure before me recoiled, its presence faltering for the first time. Its eyes—those pits of emptiness—narrowed, and I could feel its confusion, its shock.
It wasn't prepared for this.
But neither was I.
---
The sky bent beneath me, the rift pulsing as though it were alive. It wasn't just the storm of magic within me—it was everything I had ever felt. The grief. The rage. The suffocating darkness that clung to my every breath. It was all there, twisting and thrashing, wanting to break free. And now, it was free.
I could feel the essence of the grimoire, an entity of its own, carving through my flesh. The runes on my skin burned brighter, hotter. I screamed as a torrent of energy ripped through me. Magic exploded outward, and the ground trembled under the force of it.
And there—that thing—the creature in the rift, faltered.
The shock on its face—the empty, void-like slits of its eyes—was the only thing that kept me going. I wasn't just fighting against it. I was fighting against the very thing it represented: the endless void, the nothingness that sought to consume all.
"Impossible…" It whispered. The words were a rasp, the sound of a dying wind in the depths of a graveyard.
I let the magic flow through me, deeper, hotter, until my entire body felt like it was on fire. It hurt, every inch of me screaming in agony. But it wasn't just pain. It was power. It was freedom.
"You're not the only one who can exist in nothingness," I spat, my voice hoarse, but it came out with the force of a thunderclap.
The being took a step back, its form rippling like liquid, distorting in an attempt to withstand the pressure. But the more I pushed, the more the air around us cracked. Like a dam breaking, the flow of magic refused to stop.
I wasn't just throwing magic at it anymore. I was fighting it, trying to tear the very foundation of what it was apart. The being let out a sound that was part scream, part laughter, as it was pulled back, drawn into the storm that had become my existence.
But it wasn't enough.
No, I wasn't enough.
The being began to shift. It moved with unnatural fluidity, splitting and reforming, becoming something larger, more powerful. The crack in the sky widened, consuming everything it touched.
It began to speak again, its voice booming now, shaking the very air around us. "You—Kael—you are nothing. You will always be nothing. I am the end, the void, the forgotten place you were destined for."
I felt a chill sweep over me, and the storm within me flared higher, trying to battle the darkness, trying to hold my ground.
But the pressure... It was too much.
I could feel the cracks in my own form, the weakness in my body, as if the energy that was fueling me was starting to break apart, scattering in all directions. The storm was growing beyond my control, and I couldn't stop it.
I felt... afraid.
For the first time in a long time, I was truly afraid.
And that was when I heard it.
A distant sound. Almost imperceptible.
"Kael!"
I turned, my vision hazy, the air vibrating.
Through the mist, a figure appeared.
Asta.
I couldn't believe my eyes. He was running, his face determined, his grimoire at the ready, his very presence defying everything that was happening.
"You don't get to die today, damn it!" Asta yelled, his voice cutting through the swirling chaos, louder than any sound I'd heard.
Behind him, Yuno was close, his own power flickering in and out of existence, struggling to hold his ground as the storm raged.
They were here.
They were still here.
I felt something inside me crack open. Not from the storm—no, it was something deeper. Something in my chest, in my very soul, began to heal.
"Yuno… Asta…" I gasped, my voice ragged, barely able to form words as I staggered toward them.
Asta's grimoire flared, an explosion of light cutting through the darkness. His anti-magic swirled around him, a barrier of pure resistance. It wasn't just an attack—it was the exact thing this creature feared.
"Take my hand!" Asta shouted.
I didn't think. I didn't have time to think. My magic surged again, forced out by the sheer force of Asta's voice. My hand reached toward him, my fingers trembling, but with the smallest ounce of hope that maybe—just maybe—I wasn't alone.
As our hands connected, I felt the storm inside me settle, just for a heartbeat. The grimoire flared to life once more, the storm of magic twisting in a way that felt like a scream. It was chaos, it was destruction—but it was ours.
"Don't let go," Yuno's voice rang out next to me, calm yet forceful, anchoring me in the storm.
I squeezed both of their hands.
And in that instant, the sky seemed to crack.
I didn't know if it was my magic or theirs—or maybe it was just the combined weight of all that had brought us together.
But the void... started to recoil. It wasn't just the being retreating. It was everything that had tried to consume us.
We weren't the prey anymore.
We were the storm.
And the storm wasn't finished yet.
---
The void-being shrieked.
A sound like reality being torn apart—a thousand screaming stars collapsing into themselves.
It flailed and reformed and shattered again, the pressure of our combined magic pressing into it from every angle. Asta's anti-magic struck like a blade of absolute refusal. Yuno's wind compressed time and space, cutting deeper than steel. And my own magic—this chaotic blend of freedom and imprisonment—burned like a contradiction made flesh.
But the thing… the thing still didn't die.
"You think… you can defy oblivion?" it hissed, voice gurgling as if choking on its own decay. "You think a broken vessel… two incomplete dreams… can end me?!"
Its body expanded outward, the sky fracturing into pieces. Stars blinked out in the distance. Even gravity started to twist. The rift screamed open again, wider than before.
And through it—I saw it.
The true void. The real source. Not just emptiness. Uncreation.
'We can't beat it,' my mind whispered, cold and honest.
I grit my teeth. No.
Not like this.
Asta held his sword high, panting, grinning even through the strain. "Kael! We're still breathing. That means we're not done yet!"
Yuno hovered beside me, his cloak torn, mana burning around him like a comet trapped in orbit. He didn't speak—but his eyes were locked on mine.
Determined. Resolved.
He would die here if it meant holding that thing back one second longer.
And I realized—I would too.
My body moved on instinct, driven not by hope but by sheer refusal to surrender. I hurled myself toward the core of the thing, magic tearing from my hands like wildfire. The seal of my bound arm cracked again, bleeding violet chains and silver flames, a storm that howled in rebellion.
Asta screamed and shot forward with me, his blade flashing with black lightning.
Yuno moved like a slash of divine wind, his magic forming a lance of condensed judgment.
We struck.
Together.
The void-being staggered, shrieking as our combined power pierced through its form. Light. Wind. Anti-magic. Freedom. Binding. All of it converged in a single moment.
And yet—it still didn't fall.
The thing reared back. "I… am the wound between worlds… I am the silence before time!"
Its entire body expanded into a sphere of rotting cosmos. Tendrils of black light coiled down toward the village—toward the church.
Toward them.
Sister Lily.
The children.
I felt it. That helplessness again. That same, cursed weakness.
I opened my mouth to scream.
But before the sound left my throat—
—the world cracked.
Not from the void.
Not from me.
Not from any spell we knew.
But from a slash so powerful, reality flinched.
The sky didn't just split—it howled, like a beast being gutted from the inside.
A black arc tore across existence itself—wide enough to carve a continent, soaked in raw, condensed death.
The void-being never even saw it coming.
The slash ripped through its torso like the hand of a god reaching down to erase a mistake. The creature shrieked—a raw, terrified sound—as its essence scattered into bleeding chunks of starless meat, sizzling where the dark blade had touched.
Space itself buckled.
The earth kneeled.
Then came the voice.
Low.
Rough.
Unfazed by time or terror.
"Oi…"
It echoed through the smoke like a curse, sharp enough to slice through panic itself.
"…The hell are you three brats doing playing hero without me?"
I turned, gasping.
Through the settling dust and rippling air, a silhouette emerged.
Standing alone atop the ruined hill—shoulders relaxed, one hand in his pocket, the other resting lazily on a katana still humming with the residue of a spell strong enough to hurt nothingness itself.
His cloak was tattered but regal, soaked in voidblood.
His cigarette glowed like a smirk.
His eyes…
His eyes were already reading the next ten seconds of the fight, like he'd already won.
Yami Sukehiro.
He shifted his stance, the katana whispering as it slid across his shoulder.
Voidblood dripped and hissed against the wind.
"Guess I showed up just in time to clean up your mess."
The void-being convulsed, the wound across its chest refusing to heal.
Its shriek this time wasn't rage.
It was pure fear.
Yami didn't blink.
"Didn't think I'd get to cut something like you today…" he muttered, exhaling a plume of smoke that twisted like a demon's breath. Then he grinned.
"…but I ain't complainin'. Been too damn long since I had a proper warm-up."
And in that moment—
With the sky behind him burning, the earth beneath him trembling, and that impossible, devil-splitting blade humming with more power than I had ever dreamed of—
I finally understood what it meant…
…to stand behind the darkest wall the world had to offer.
And feel safe.
---
Tried to make it perfect, and remember this fanfic is written by yami fanboy, so you know, he is gonna be that strong....not exaggerated enough right, I mean he has dark magic that even devils are scared of...so I just gave it a tiny puny boost, hope you guys don't mind
Seeya in next chapter