“Zeus’s body isn’t here. We can probably assume he has another base,” Shinji muttered, his voice low but steady.
He strode over to the pile of rubble and ash, kneeling as his fingers sifted through the charred remains.
In his hand, a fragment of burnt debris began to transform, twisting unnaturally until it took on the unmistakable shape of a human arm. His grip tightened.
“Locate.”
The single word echoed through the room like the crack of thunder. The ground trembled, sending a fine rain of sand from the ceiling above. His eyes glowed with a piercing green light like that of an emerald, the aura around him pulsing with power.
Moments later, he exhaled deeply. “Yuki’s group is moving toward him. Seems like Sayori already figured out where he is.”
Asami leaned against the wall, scratching the back of her neck as she surveyed the destruction that Thanatos left behind. She turned toward the staircase leading out of the basement.
“Goddess Hestia,” she called over her shoulder, “are you still following us?”
“Of course.” Hestia’s voice was calm, almost melodic. She descended gracefully, her presence commanding yet unassuming. “I cannot stand idly by while a fiend threatens the prosperity of humanity.”
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Asami shrugged and fell into step beside Shinji, who seemed lost in thought. Hestia followed silently, her footsteps soft yet deliberate.
“That girl, Yuki…” Asami began, her voice light but probing. “Y’know what? She could be stronger than you someday.”
Shinji smirked, the corner of his lips curling up in quiet amusement. “I doubt it. But if she were, it wouldn’t be the worst thing. The strong have no duty to protect the weak. If only everyone could fend for themselves.”
“You’re really full of yourself, you know that?” Asami retorted, rolling her eyes.
“What can I say?” He chuckled softly, his confidence unwavering. “Maybe because I am the strongest.”
“Tch.” Asami crossed her arms and quickened her pace, glaring at the hallway ahead.
“Did you say something?” Shinji teased, his tone playful.
Ignoring him, Asami shifted the conversation. “How do you plan on beating Nakamura? Why don’t you just kill him before he has a chance to clone himself again?”
Shinji sighed, running a hand through his hair. “First of all, I can’t search for him across the entire globe, how much stamina do you think I really have? Secondly, we don’t know how many clones he’s made. And third, killing him won’t stop the homunculi from housing the gods’ bodies.”
“Then destroy all the lab humans already!” Asami snapped, her frustration boiling over.
He stopped in his tracks and turned to face her, his expression darkening. “I can’t do everything! I’m not all-knowing, damn it.”
Before the argument could escalate, Hestia stepped between them, her serene voice cutting through the tension. “His consciousness is not simply copied; it is fragmented. Each shard resides within his clones, tethered to his main body. When a clone perishes, its shard returns to the original. If you shatter the shards, piece by piece, he will weaken until he can no longer function.”
Shinji’s brow furrowed as he processed her words. “Even if that’s true, I don’t have the power to target his soul directly. Unless…” He paused, a memory surfacing. “Maybe we could use that.”
Asami tilted her head. “What’s ‘that’?”
[Red Berserker]
A weapon of legend. A crimson dagger etched with ancient runes, its hilt adorned with a golden pattern over scorched wood. It grants the wielder the ability to cut through any physical object. What is considered “physical” depends entirely on the wielder’s perception. Its range is limited only by the user’s strength, and any object it slices—no matter how vast—will be severed completely and anything along with it.