Arkanon leaped into the air, a crater forming in his wake. The sharp retort of his speed was only heard when he already had reached the trio of fliers descending from the palace. Three more booms rang out as his fists caved in their heads. As blood rained the ground, he let gravity take him, cocking back his fist. Jets of energy exploded from the bottom of his boots, sending him on a collision course with the center of the enemy lines.
Around him, a faint avatar of an Uthraki of godlike proportions formed, its fist enveloping his own. He drove his fist down, and it seemed like a volcano erupted in reverse, an explosion of molten energy cascading down upon the unlucky warriors below. His fist struck the ground a moment later, and the entire city’s district buckled, exploding upwards from the sheer force of his trike. In one attack, he wiped out the majority of the surviving soldiers defending the city. Then he landed lightly on his feet, and walked towards the survivors. A grin that would have looked at home on the face of the Devil himself covered his face.
“I have slaughtered the monsters of Tartarus for centuries. I have bathed in the blood of legions. I have honed my body as a temple to my own strength and will.” Each word was punctuated with another step. “I will not give you another chance. Surrender now, or die.”
In the Ashen Citadel
Eliza had been in the middle of training with her unit when the realms merged. She had quickly closed the notification, and left her companions behind. For the first time, she and Jonathan were in the same realm. The only problem was her lack of strength compared to him. He had just slain the strongest being in Mire, while she was still near the mid ranks of Tier 2.
Despite all this, she possessed advantages that set her apart from the norm. Divinity and her special race merged to create an engine of progression matched by few in Telvaria. Because of this, she saw the potential in the idea of trying to ingratiate herself into Jonathan’s inner circle, leveling with him until she could achieve her goal.
Once the realm had calmed, she would seek him out. For now, she joined a sudden wave of fighters leaving the city, heading out to explore the new geography of the fused circles. Many of them would soon die, but Eliza would not be among them.
She raced along the main avenue of the city, surrounded by thousands doing the same thing. Soon, she let her true speed show, flashing by the various districts at breakneck velocities.
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She phased out of the sight of many around her, moving too fast for their eyes to track. The city seemed to warp around her, and within a minute, she stood at the gates. Then she leaped over, and beheld a new world. Stunned, she almost fell. Where a tractless expanse of ash had once been, now there was a vast field of what looked like fertile soil, punctuated by small groves of gnarled trees.
“Damn,” she found herself whispering. It had been hard to believe the dramatic changes in the realm simply from a System message, but now, it was obvious. Around her, others stopped, and stared at the landscape. It was a far cry from heaven, but neither was it hell.
Within Eliza’s mind, a tiny shard of doubt coalesced. “Am I really justified in this quest? Would a monster fight to save the Hells like this?” And then, most damningly. “All I want is power. I couldn’t care less about how many people Jonathan Harlowe saves if he is left to progress.”
She stood there, even after the others took off. A critical junction had been met in her life. It was up to her which way she went.
In Tartarus
Three days had passed since Jonathan’s decision to merge the Ash Heaps and Mire had sent shockwaves throughout both realms. In that time, he had begun to heal, aided by Arkanon’s most talented doctors. Even then, a massive scar traced a path down his front, remaining despite his stubborn efforts to remove it. A tiny shred of Slothari’s power still lingered within it, preventing full healing.
He had taken to wandering the palace ground until he fully regained his strength, but now, he felt well enough to return to Mire. Arkanon hadn’t returned yet, and Jonathan was beginning to wonder what was going on there. He trusted the man, to a point, but he had to admit. There was a temptation present for Arkanon. Why settle with the scorched lands of Tartarus, when you could also rule over two circles of Hell? The only reason Jonathan didn’t think this was a serious possibility was because Arkanon had been nothing but grateful to him. Had he truly wished to overthrow him, Arkanon would have simply killed him during his unconsciousness. Despite all this, it was time to return.
One he had made certain of his healing, Jonathan departed the palace, reappearing in the plains outside the Oozing Bastion. Only, they weren’t plains anymore. A vast field stretched from horizon to horizon, tiny green shoots pressing up through the surface of the soil. Trees were visible every now and then, and more importantly, people.
In the distance to both sides, Jonathan saw the highways that had divided the Ash Heaps, somehow superimposed onto the natural contours of the land. He turned, but it was the same view as far as the eye could see. “The hell happened here? The place doesn’t look like Hell anymore…”
“That’s because it’s not,” a voice came from behind him.