Matthew could feel the power of chaos as it sought to drill a hole in the fabric of reality around Ibere, Azael, the reaper, and Chaosborne, or lord of chaos burning quietly with the power. With his book, and his connection to the titan floating above his head, Matthew, pontiff to the order of the titan and master of the house prepared for the battle he knew might probably be his last.
However, there was a sort of peace and calm he felt even with the crozius, the spiked ball with a handle that looked like a hand-held morning star burning with the power of the titan in his hand, Matthew stared down oblivion incarnate and knew deep within himself, that this was the right path. While the titan held the skies and system above Ibere, holding back the abomination that was the world of the reaper from defiling the system, it was up to Matthew and all the other forces within the planet.
It was a desolate place, Ibere, the majority of the population sealed within bunker chambers beneath them, locked by the authority and aspect of the titan himself, not even Azael would have the strength to tear it open, not unless of course, the reaper decided to blow up the planet in a suicide attack. Matthew drove the thought away, if the reaper did that, then they were all dead either way, but he doubted it, he needed something from them.
When Azael moved, scythe twisting with all its chaotic strength to clash at him, Matthew summoned his spiritual form. A giant with four hands, a halo of golden fire above his head, burning with the aether given mandate of the Archailect and aether. It was a heavy weight, and more than once, Matthew had caught himself asking how Moyo bore it all, but when his crozius clashed with the scythe, Matthew thanked the supreme beings that the titan had actually grown as powerful as he was, for the raw power of oblivion he felt from the weapon shook him.
It was like a spear of pure malice aimed at his core, its cold lethality aiming for his heart as well, Matthew though, was nothing if not resilient, his passive skill activating,
Aegis of the believer(L): the legendary protection of those with absolute faith in their primordial, this passive ability protects the user against physical as well as soul attacks, an irrefutable shield against the attacks aimed at the user.
The aegis rung like a bell even though he had clashed with the scythe, his weapon straining as he reinforced it with aura,
“You do realize you don’t need to die for a single ascender, right?” Azael taunted,
Matthew spared no response, raising one hand up as a congealed titan aspect formed above him, they broke into different shapes, a round blade, a set of six spears a shield, a large blade, and a whip. Matthew blazed with the power, feeling his body strain from the raw power he summoned. It hadn’t been a while he had awoken from the trance he had been under, where he had channeled so much aspect, that had he continued, he’d had gone up in a blaze of aspect flames, leaving nothing but ashes behind.
It was the same power Martha currently channeled, except she didn’t have his faith, his veneration of the titan, and no matter what he was told by the spider, to limit his veneration and faith, Matthew knew it had its rewards. The titan was no deity, Matthew knew that more than any other and he drove it into his order. What the titan had though, was not some miracle by a supposed deity, no, it was the connection to the pure tune of reality itself, a power he currently wielded even as his Hud glowed brighter, scrambling from the influx he wielded.
He saw the reaper attempt to create distance between them as the whip caught him with but a thought, the aspect searing the reaper bone and soul deep. The lord of chaos swung his scythe to cut the whip in two when the shield was there, clashing with the weapon and weathering the blow.
“HOLD” Matthew commanded.
Blinking from the rush of power that sucked the majority of aether from his core, his spiritual form pounded the reaper into the bare ground with a punch that shook the very area around them for miles. It was like a battle of two monsters, dust and aether reverberating through the air, the herald floating upwards, watching the reaper get up with broken bones that healed back.
“Futile,” the reaper said.
“you’re but a messenger in the literal sense, wielding a fraction of the power your lord wielded, I applaud your courage, but your death is sealed all the same,” he said.
Matthew gave a smile.
“Death is merely a phase, nothing more” he replied as he burned brighter.
Azael paused.
“I see it now, and I envy the titan,” the reaper said.
“To command such faith, such belief, perhaps in a better world, you’d have risen to the rank of a ruler or even an ancient” Azael continued.
“But not this one, now, DIE” he commanded and swung his blade.
Matthew reacted as Ibere shook from the attack, his shield blocking the chaos attack and cracking before shattering. His spiritual form was there next, its entire form clashing with it as it sought to repel the attack, pure agony driving through his soul as Matthew crashed to the ground, the other aspect forged weapons floating around him as he leaked blood from his eyes. He got up, the book opening as its pages rustled, before stopping and a lance of light came from within it.
“By the will of the titan blade, protector of the Archailect” Matthew chanted.
“Oh no you don’t,” Azael said furiously as he attacked.
“Da pa da!” Matthew commanded.
It felt like a bomb went off, Matthew kneeled over as his eyes swam, his heart pounding wildly as the explosions tore the entire area apart, raw aspect infusing the weapons as they shredded reality and held it back, scouring it clean of the aspect of chaos. Matthew breathed calmly, struggling to his feet, the halo behind him glowing as a warm power suffused his form, healing him as he panted slowly. Then there was a slash, and the halo shattered, raw pain lancing straight through his skull as he wrapped himself in bubble after bubble of aspect, rolling away from the attack, activating another skill on reflex.
Faith exchange(R): This skill allows the user to teleport to another position, used only during emergencies, saving them from lethal strikes, usable once a day.
He had used an edict of the titan, one bestowed to him once he became a herald, its power neigh inconceivable, and he had heard the titan spammed such attacks regularly. He chuckled at the thought, watching Azael limp over to him, rage in his eyes, he had injured the reaper, even as his spiritual form shattered behind him, his halo gone, Matthew smiled. Azael paused a few meters away.
“I grow weary of this; you cannot end me” Azael growled.
Matthew could feel the irritation and rage coming from the reaper, Azael had thought him easy prey to be slaughtered as he attempted to steal the rune deep within the palace itself. Matthew took a deep breath.
“How does it feel?” he asked Azael.
“To be injured by little old me, to feel the wrath of the titan incarnate?” Matthew whispered.
Azael chuckled.
“I will crush your bones, nothing will be left of you, not even dust, not even a memory of your existence,” Azael said as he swung his blade,
Matthew became a blur, this was the endgame for him, his end, and he would go out in a blast, it comforted him immensely. He shot into the air, slapping his hands together.
“COME, DEFENDERS OF IBERE, DEFENDERS OF THE FAITH!” he roared,
All over the planet, light shot to the skies, coming together into forms that burned with pure power, humanoid shapes Matthew had been working on. They were pieces of raw veneration he had access to, forged into the constructs made by Boyle, all cold lethal killers as they went for Azael who laughed in glee. The battle was a blur, these weapons versus Azael with Matthew in the periphery, controlling the aspect weapons, the reaper was hard pressed, but one by one he crushed them, giving Matthew time to recuperate as the halo behind him, his mantle manifest reformed.
And then he was there, the aspect blade in one hand and Crozius in the other bashing at the reaper as he let himself burn with the aspect of the titan, a raging inferno that hurt the reaper who kept him at arm's length with that scythe of his. Matthew pushed on, aware that he was now burning his life force, he felt the cuts, he felt the stabs, but he dropped irrefutable damage on the reaper as well. Soon, he moved on reflex, even as his body screamed, his halo shattered again, his crozius sliced cleanly in two, still, the herald of the titan fought on.
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It was only him and Azael, nothing else mattered even as he shouted command after command, even as his body broke down around him. The reaper in the body of Rohan had only one arm and half a body left, still, he fought with cold precision, parrying and slicing the herald of the titan despite the raw power Matthew wielded. Matthew suddenly felt his body no longer responding, realizing he was a smoking mess.
He blinked, staring at Rohan, no, Azael, the reaper panting softly.
“Enough,” Azael said, and for the first time, Matthew heard something akin to pity.
“Enough, herald of the titan, you fought well, I give that to you” he continued.
“The purity of battle is within you, now rest, a pity this reality must be wiped,” Azael said softly.
Matthew gave a weak smile.
“Martha,” he said softly.
Dimly, in the back of his mind, he felt his connection to her vibrate as she gave the sorrowful command. He smiled again.
“Protect him,” he said again in a whisper.
Time slowed before his eyes, he saw the scythe coming down, he saw it all, his first introduction to the Archailect, his time with his faction, the titan saving them, he saw it all. The sadness, the happiness, the thing they were building here, and he closed his eyes as he spoke the last command and edict.
“PURIFY” he commanded.
Everything turned white, pure aspect exploding within him, its power going for miles, tearing everything apart, cleansing the entire area, and then there was silence. Matthew, herald, pontiff of the order of the Titan, lord of Titanor, and future saint of the empire had died.
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Martha choked a sob, tears falling freely from her eyes as Idris gripped his blade tighter, rage within his eyes as he heard the explosion. He went to one knee, the Shieldborne wordlessly following, and silence reigned within the room, he glanced at Martha and saw rage in her eyes, saw runes dance above her head, no doubt forcing herself to peer into the future. She shook her head.
“It’s futile,” she said softly.
“one” she called as the first hand of the spiders was at her side.
“Initiate the echo protocol” she commanded.
It was the first time Idris saw the hand hesitate for a fraction of a second before nodding.
“Idris” Martha called.
“Listen very clearly to my commands, our very existence might as well depend on it” she warned.
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The ball of chaos protection Azael had summoned to protect himself had burned away so rapidly that he had been forced back into the netherworld for a brief second. Then he had to force his way back into reality, through the burning aspect that flayed him alive, killing and re-killing him over and over as he drew on the aspect of chaos to keep his consciousness going. It was pure agony, but Azael couldn’t have stopped himself if he wanted to anyway, to do that was to lose at this stage.
He felt Apophis holding the titan down on the world, doing its best to delay the titan, and felt an urgency deep in his soul even as he manifested on the world again. He shuddered as the aspect assaulted him from all sides, but the good part was that he had gained access back to the full aspect of chaos the moment he stepped into the nethervoid, removing the taint of the titan deep within him as he reforged his scythe again.
He needed Krial back, or voidborn as the bastard called it, but even with the titan aspect eating at his chaos-forged blade, his will held its edges sharp, it would do for the work he had planned. No more would he be cautious, he barely had the time, not when the titan would sense the happenings within his realm the moment he finished with the planet. Acutely aware that all these wouldn’t have been possible had the titan been on the planet, that wild aspect of his flowing within the planet would have been honed with his will to a deadly edge, eradicating him the moment he stepped foot within the planet.
He took one step after the other before blasting for the palace, pure rage in his eyes, and swung his scythe. The defensive systems of the palace came alive, the automated ones as Azael felt no life around him, the ascenders wisely evacuating themselves. They shot pure aspect, mana, lightning, intent, flames, everything they could throw at him, defensive arrays blossoming to life, powered by the planet itself. Azael swung through them with pure aspect fueling him now, no longer was he limited by the power he could siphon through the body of Rohan.
The undying hand was dead, his body put to good use as any obedient child would, and as he landed within the palace, one half of his body burnt beyond comprehension but rapidly healing, Azael prepared to face the mechanical sentinels that came for him. They appeared through pathways, ruler ranked constructs, blasting and swinging at him as he went through them like hot knife through butter, scythe swinging as each attack blew chunks out of his form, his body reforming with his tattered mantle around him as he pounded them to dust, irritated that he was fighting machines.
The woman who had organized the defenses was someone he needed off the board, he had seen snippets of her through the memories of Rohan and knew she was the one holding the house together. The titan might be the figure placed out to the Archailect as the head of the house, and he was, but she was the literal web spinning its protection around the house. With her gone, the titan might suffer from shock or reel into despair, something that would favor him greatly as he made his way for the citadel itself. He was at the gate of the palace, crashing through it as he was beset by ascenders in Aserite amor, swinging deadly weapons as he parried an attack. He chuckled seeing traces of his sword style among their movements, watered down terribly and reshaped into something unique, but it was there, meaning these elites were trained by Ajax.
In the Archailect proper, against another faction, these diamonds would lay waste to any faction’s diamonds in a battle, but against him, they were hundreds upon hundreds of years too early, and they fell like wheat. Azael was through them, and the next forces, and the next till he got to the throne room and shuddered, the pure power and blindness he felt from the room shook him to his core. This was a place where he couldn’t hold back, not one bit, and with that, he summoned everything that he had, swinging with pure chaos aspect and shattering the door as he entered.
The pure aspect burnt him like acid, searing his mind and body as he trembled in shock, watching a warrior wield a weapon so powerful with the aspect of the titan that reality trembled around him. Azael unleashed his wrath, clashing as reality shattered and rewrote itself within the room, black holes opening and closing with bangs, diamonds clashing with him as his mantle burnt away. Each swing of his weapon was met with a loud gong, Azael matching the attacks even as he unleashed true chaos within the throne room, and the Titan aspect fought back.
His eyes moving at a thousand speeds at once, he empowered his form more and tore open a pathway despite the weight being like an anvil dropped on his back. He unleashed the creatures of oblivion into the room in their hundreds even as they burnt away just as quickly, holding the diamonds down and letting him handle the master burning even with more power than the herald. Perhaps this was the emissary of the titan?, and if yes, Azael was beginning to reconsider just taking the rune and running, he had to battle Araman as well.
His gaze went to the woman on the throne whose spiritual form was a creature with eight limbs, one grasping the rune.
“MINE!” he commanded with a growl.
The emissary swung his blade, cutting his scythe in two as Azael barely dodged being decapitated, cursing and twisting out of the way, the emissary bringing out some sort of weapon as he fired continually at him in a hail of aspect-infused intent explosive bullets. This was the furthest mere mortals had pushed him and while he was disgusted, he was also thrilled, the bullets shattering reality around him.
He resummoned his tattered mantle letting it take the swing of the weapon before holding back a shout as he lost one hand, the limb cleanly cut off by the intent-covered edge of the blade the ascender wielded. And then he was face to face with the emissary, moving past the guard of the blade as he prepared to slice him in two when a shield came from nowhere to block the cut of his newly forged scythe. Azael was running mad with rage and he tore his hand through his own body, seizing a rib and forcibly pulling it out, coating it with aspect, and turned towards the diamonds.
As he suspected, the emissary wouldn’t stand by, coming to their rescue, Azael smiled, blade raised as the emissary and a diamond ranker who had a similar aether to the woman on the throne turned to him. Azael activated his chaos aspect, pulling them closer so quickly as he sacrificed his other hand, letting the blade cut through. His aspect congealed around him, shaped into two spears that ate at reality around them, and before that annoying shield that his blade barely left a dent on could protect the emissary, the chaos spear, infused with so much aspect that he tore open a rift to the abyss itself stabbed through the emissary. Then his hand was at the neck of the illusive diamond in a mask, snapping his neck as well, leaving the diamonds at his mercy.
He was through them in a flash, staring down the woman on the throne who stared on resolutely.
“An oracle” Azael said, the second spear reshaping itself into a scythe.
“No wonder he had such an edge, your type is exceedingly rare in the Archailect” he continued.
“You will burn Azael, you cannot win” the woman replied.
Azael nodded.
“Which would be true, had you not sent your only true chance away from this place, thinking the planet a bigger threat than I am,” Azael said.
Nodding at the rune that pulsed.
“That belongs to me,” he said.
“No, it belongs to the Archailect” the woman replied.
Azael paused, and then laughed as the answer caught him off guard.
“To the Archailect?” he asked with a laugh.
“Death, decay, they are all part of the cycle of life, even your patron knows that,” she said with a smile.
Azael felt the rage within him as Apophis wanted her dead, he stared at the woman
“Your name” he asked softly.
“Martha, regent of the titan blade” she answered.
Azael nodded; he saw no fear in her eyes.
“Martha, regent of the titan, I applaud you” Azael started.
“This house has surprised me, a family ready to die for each other, a pity, but I will remember you all,” Azael said softly.
He felt the moment she shot the needles at him, his scythe moving a fraction of a second earlier, shattering the needles as the blade slit her throat. Eyes wide, she grasped at it, blood leaking all over the ground, as he calmly stepped up and grabbed the rune from her hands, staring into her eyes as it slowly lost its light. He spared her a few seconds of respect, she might not have been a fighter, but she was one of the greatest foes he had ever faced.
He felt the rune pulse as it shattered, fusing with him as pure power raced through him, his body burning and with a step, the reaper was gone from the planet, leaving nothing but death behind him.