Elder Soul's PoV:
I shift my weight, the plush hotel carpet barely registering under my feet as I watch the array's feed. The screen flickers with Nor's smug face, and my fingers twitch with the urge to reach through and crush his windpipe.
"I'm gonna flay him alive." Quill's voice cuts through the tension. The hotel trembles under the weight of his killing intent, picture frames rattling against the walls.
"Get in line." I clamp my hand on his shoulder, layering my own pressure over his wild energy to contain it. "I doubt your daughter will let him off anyway."
On screen, Lala stands rigid, her body quivering with barely contained rage. Her delicate features twist in revulsion.
Then I watch as Lala's entire demeanor shifts. The murderous aura evaporates, replaced by an eerie stillness. Her lips curve into a knowing smile.
"I believe I'm quite a good judge of character," Lala says, her voice steady. "So how about you tell me what's really going on, Nor?"
Beside me, Quill leans forward, his eyes narrowing at the screen. The laughter that bursts from Nor's throat sends ripples through the feed's audio. He steps closer to Lala, performing an exaggerated bow.
"I have no idea what you mean." He lifts his head, eyes glinting dangerously. "Maybe this is who I am."
Lala's eye roll could freeze hell itself. Her silence speaks volumes.
The transformation in Nor is instant - his smile vanishes like it never existed. He straightens, light reflecting off his glasses in a way that obscures his eyes completely.
"You really don't know how to have fun, my dear Lala." He snaps his fingers. My breath catches as Eve and Issa appear, suspended in mid-air beside him. "The two widow makers have been disabled, although it is going to take some time for the nanite swarm to eliminate them completely from their bodies."
The feed crackles with static, and I resist the urge to punch through the wall. These new-age theatrics are getting on my nerves.
Through the array, Lala's silence fills the space between them. Her eyes, so much like her father's, bore into Nor with laser precision.
Nor's composure cracks first. His lips twitch into that insufferable smile of his. "Don't give me that look, Lala."
He spins on his heel, arms spreading wide like some demented circus ringmaster. His voice pitches higher, theatrical. "Politics are the same everywhere, even here on Ebber's Ridge."
The feed crackles as he moves, and I adjust the array's frequency with a grunt. "I might be strong, but there are others that desire my throne. And they take any opportunity to see me fall."
"Like not telling you I'm on my way?" Lala's voice cuts through his performance.
"Or arresting your friends on fake charges to bring them here." Nor drops his arms. "Planting the widow makers to get you angry and pin the blame on me." His glasses catch the light. "Or even giving the order to delay you at all costs in the hope you would kill my guards on your way to me."
"They underestimated you, my dear Lala." His voice wavers, eyes gleaming with unmistakable desire. "They did not realize just how kind and smart you truly are."
A sharp crack splits the air beside me. Quill's fingers crush through the pad, reducing it to worthless scrap.
"This bastard actually has thoughts for my daughter." The words drip with venom from his lips.
On screen, Lala's posture relaxes, her eyes now clear and focused. "I see." She pauses, then adds, "One last question. What was that nonsense from earlier?"
Nor blinks. "What nonsense?"
A hint of pink creeps across Lala's cheeks. "About... wanting me," she mumbles.
"Oh." Nor's face brightens with understanding. "Mama always said to aim high and never hesitate. The worst a girl you desire can say is 'No.'"
Lala's face scrunches up. "Eww."
That single word echoes through both rooms. The murderous aura radiating from Quill vanishes, replaced by a sneering grin. My stomach churns, and I feel my cheeks puffing out with suppressed laughter. But Nor - oh, Nor's expression is priceless. He looks like someone just dunked his head in a fresh pile of manure.
Through the array's feed, I watch as someone starts clapping - slow, deliberate, mocking. The sound echoes through the chamber, each impact sharper than the last.
The mist in the air crystallizes, falling like diamond dust before melting against the heated floor panels.
A distortion warps the space between Lala and Nor. Reality bends, folds, then parts like a curtain. Through the ripple steps a distorted figure.
Not particularly tall or short, but his presence fills the room. Two antennae sprout from his head, swaying gently as if caught in an invisible breeze. His face could be carved from the finest jade - delicate, almost feminine features framed by flowing white hair that cascades past his shoulders. He carries himself with that insufferable grace I've seen in countless young masters from prominent families - the type who'd rather spend their days in pleasure houses than cultivating.
These kind of young punks always need to make a show of everything.
"Well that was highly entertaining," he says, that insufferable smirk plastered across his face. "But I think it's time to put an end to this party."
The change in Nor is instant - gone is his casual demeanor, replaced by coiled tension. "Whatever they gave you, I will double it."
The man's smile widens just a fraction. "Sorry, but professionalism is everything for an assassin. You should know that better than anyone." He throws Nor a wink.
"Oh great." Lala's voice drips with exhaustion. "Another weirdo to deal with. Like one wasn't enough."
Nor's face crumples like he's been slapped. "Lala, dear, what have I done to you to deserve such words?"
She rolls her eyes, and I catch the telltale hum of arrays activating beneath her robes.
"My business is exclusively with Mr. Noriel von Michete over there," the man says, amusement dancing in his eyes. "Take your friends and leave."
I can see the conflict on Lala's face through the feed.
"Quite a saucy one, aren't you." The assassin's tongue flicks across his lips as he eyes Lala. "Well, I gave you a chance. Now you are going to die together with everyone-"
"Give me a break," Lala cuts him off. "It's not like you had any thought of allowing us to escape anyway."
"True." His smile turns predatory. "But at least you could have died a painless death."
Beside me, Quill's knuckles crack. The room temperature drops several degrees.
My eyes catch the subtle shimmer beneath Lala's robes - arrays taking shape, invisible but deadly. She's been preparing since she first stepped into that room. At first for Nor, but now someone else is her target.
The patterns shift and merge in ways that defy logic. I rise from my seat, unable to mask my shock at the complexity of what I'm witnessing.
Beside me, Quill's murderous aura dissipates. A laugh bubbles up from his chest. "That's my daughter," he says, pointing at the screen with pride.
The arrays surrounding Lala are unlike anything I've seen before. Four distinct patterns weave together, using her as an anchor point. While it can't compare to Quill's masterwork, watching a 25-year-old girl achieve this level of mastery leaves me speechless. The sheer impossibility of what she's doing makes my head spin.
I watch as space fractures around Lala, spreading outward like cracks in a mirror. My heart skips a beat at the raw display of power.
The newcomer's face contorts in panic.
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"Using her divine sense to isolate everyone but the enemy while reversing the polarity of the phasing array," I say, my voice trailing off as I process the impossibility before me. Quill's laughter rings in my ears, a proud father watching his daughter's performance.
"Even going as far as extracting the explosive devices, not because it was anything ugent, but just because she can" I shake my head, sweat beading on my forehead. The technical mastery required for such precise manipulation staggers me.
"Give her 100 extra years and she might surpass me," Quill adds with a grin.
My stomach churns at his words. One Quill is already too much for this world to handle. The thought of two beings with that level of power makes cold sweat run down my face. I wipe my brow, trying to steady my breathing as I watch the scene unfold.
I shield my eyes as blinding light floods the room, followed by instant darkness. My vision adjusts quickly as the power returns, emergency lights flickering back to life overhead.
Through the array feed, I watch Lala standing amid the dissolving remnants of her arrays. The intricate patterns crumble like sand castles in the wind, their purpose served.
Around her, hundreds of young women blink in confusion. For them, reality simply skipped a beat. But I can see the toll on Lala's face. Those fraction of seconds stretched into days for her, trapped between ticks of time while she worked her arrays to the limit.
"Lala!" Eve's voice cracks through the feed as she scrambles to her feet. She catches Lala just as her strength gives out, cradling her friend's exhausted form. The room falls dead silent.
I lean closer to the screen as Issa approaches them. Her augmented eyes whir to life, scanning beams passing over Lala's still form.
"She is fine," Issa announces, her clinical tone carrying clear relief. "Just tired."
I sink back in my chair, releasing a breath I didn't realize I was holding. Beside me, Quill remains perfectly still, his eyes fixed on his daughter's image. His earlier mirth has vanished, replaced by something deeper - pride mixed with concern.
The array feed continues to show the aftermath, but my attention stays fixed on Lala's peaceful face as she rests in Eve's arms. Such power, such precision, and such cost. Even for an immortal, manipulating time itself on such a scale leaves its mark.
I lean back in my chair, the question burning in my throat. "Crippled?" The word comes out before I can stop it, and I feel Quill's divine sense sweep through the room like an arctic wind.
"No," he states with absolute certainty, his eyes never leaving the screen. A smile creeps back onto his face. "Although she is going to need some time off." His pride radiates off him in waves, making the air thick and heavy. "But did you see that, Soul?"
"Yes, yes..." My voice trails off as I recall the impossible display of power. The way she bent reality itself, manipulating time and space as if they were clay in her hands. "She was amazing." I shake my head, my heart beating faster. "And beyond insane."
Quill's grin widens, his eyes twinkling with mischief. "Insanity seems to run in the family."
"That is not a good thing," I snap, but my words are drowned out by his laughter. The sound echoes through our suite, and I resist the urge to throw something at his smug face.
"Impressive."
My stomach drops as time itself seems to fold backward. The assassin materializes in his original spot, as if the last few minutes never happened. Not a hair out of place, that insufferable smirk still plastered across his face.
Nor doesn't waste a second. He launches forward, his fist connecting with the intruder's midsection. The impact should shatter bones, but instead - nothing. Nor presses his advantage, raining blow after devastating blow, but each strike passes through the assassin like he's punching smoke.
The young man drifts backward, his body phasing through each attack until his back meets the wall. The stone gives slightly under his weight, and still that smile never wavers.
I lean forward in my seat as Nor's body flushes crimson. The air around him distorts with waves of heat. The floor beneath his feet bubbles and melts, rock turning to slag. His fists become blurs, each impact sending tremors through the building that I can feel even through the array feed.
The assassin doesn't even try to dodge. Each hit drives him deeper into the softening wall, yet his expression remains unchanged. No blood, no bruises, not even a wrinkle in his pristine clothes.
The temperature spikes again as Nor channels everything into his right fist. The final blow tears through the wall like paper, unleashing a concentrated blast of heat and force that reminds me of ancient volcanic eruptions.
Nor staggers back, his chest heaving. His body returns to its normal shade, but I can see the exhaustion written in every line of his frame.
I grip the edge of my seat as the word "Pathetic" echoes through the feed, each syllable dripping with contempt.
Through the array, I watch Lala struggle to form new patterns. The runes flicker weakly before crumbling into nothing. My heart clenches - she pushed herself too far.
"Damn it," I mutter, noticing the dangerous gleam in Nor's eyes. Energy surges through his body, concentrating around his heart. The raw power makes my divine sense tingle - it's far beyond anything he displayed before. But the price would be devastating. Even if he survives, he'll never recover.
"One thing you insects fail to understand," the assassin emerges from the molten section of wall, not a single hair out of place. Each step towards Lala and Nor feels like a death sentence. "Once a psyker reaches the Sixth stage, they are not mortals anymore." His voice rises to a crescendo. "They are Gods!"
In the next instant, he's in front of Nor, fingers positioned for what looks like a casual flick. But there's nothing casual about the hole that appears in Nor's torso - a perfect circle carved through flesh and bone.
Blood sprays from Nor's mouth as he crumples, his gathered energy dispersing harmlessly into the air.
I watch as the assassin's attention shifts, his eyes darting between the fallen Nor and Lala. My blood boils, but I force myself to stay seated. To wait. To-
"Enough!" Beside me, Quill rises, his anger radiating off him in waves.
"Low profile," I say, but my divine sense is already reaching out, isolating our target. My muscles tense, ready to show this upstart what real power feels like.
Quill catches my eye and smirks. "Low profile you say?" His lips curl into that familiar, dangerous smile. "Very well, low profile it is."
The air ripples as thousands of arrays spring to life around him. They flow like liquid art across every surface - floor, walls, ceiling. My heart skips a beat as I recognize them. Not killing formations. Just illusions. Basic ones, really, though Quill has enhanced them beyond recognition.
"Are we..." My voice shakes with excitement.
"We are!" Quill's eyes gleam. "Let's 'Snoring Dragon' the hell out of that asshole!"
I throw my head back and laugh. Not just any laugh - the kind that comes from deep in your gut and shakes your whole body.
Snoring Dragon. Not a technique, but a memory. The most beautiful memory I possess. The immortal world knows it as the Chaos Lord's First Great Calamity - the day Quill's name first echoed through the realms. When Pure Autumn Song earned her nickname. And the day I remembered what it meant to truly feel alive.
I watch in awe as Quill's blood seeps into the arrays, each drop igniting them like wildfire. The patterns pulse with crimson energy, lightning dancing between them in intricate webs. The familiar sensation of spatial manipulation tugs at my senses as reality bends to his will.
The walls stretch outward, our small room expanding into a vast cavern that defies comprehension. Pure crimson crystals coat every surface, their facets reflecting and refracting the ethereal light. Heat rises in waves as molten rock bursts forth, forming rivers of liquid fire that flow with impossible grace.
My divine sense tingles as two massive eyes snap open in the darkness, gleaming with ancient power before sliding shut once more. The silhouette they belong to makes my breath catch - a serpentine form of impossible scale, each plate of its armor larger than my entire body. Its wings shift slightly where they rest against the ground, stirring eddies in the air that make the lava ripple.
The sound starts low, almost subsonic. A rumbling snore that resonates with the crystals themselves, building and amplifying until it fills every corner of this manufactured space. The raw power radiating from the sleeping beast crushes down on us, gravity multiplying a hundredfold under the pressure of its mere presence.
I've seen countless illusions in my time, but this... this transcends mere trickery. Every detail is perfect, from the play of light on scales to the subtle variations in the lava's flow. Where lesser immortals rely on fog and shadows to mask imperfections, Quill's blood-enhanced creation stands as a testament to his mastery. His mind shapes reality itself, controlling every minute aspect until the line between illusion and truth blurs into meaninglessness.
The sleeping dragon before us may not be real in the conventional sense, but in this moment, that distinction hardly matters. The power it radiates is genuine enough to make my immortal blood run cold.
I feel my body changing, each cell shifting and realigning. My skin tingles as crimson fur sprouts across my frame. Bones crack and muscles stretch as I grow taller, bulkier, yet somehow more agile. My face elongates into a bestial muzzle, sharp teeth gleaming in the ethereal light of the cavern.
Next to me, Quill undergoes the same transformation. Our clothes dissolve into nothingness as we embrace our Red Trickster Monkey forms. My new tail swishes behind me, each movement precise and calculated.
I catch my reflection in one of the crystal faces - wild eyes stare back, holding ancient mischief and deadly intent. Perfect. Even I can't gauge my own power level now, and I'm the one generating it.
The memory of that ancient dragon lord still brings a smile to my transformed face. The look of sheer terror in her eyes when she thought she'd stumbled upon an entire clan of supreme beings... priceless. The truth? We were barely strong enough to crush an ant back then. But she never knew that.
"Hi hi hi hi," my voice echoes through the chamber, bouncing off crystal walls and riding waves of heat from the lava flows. The sound carries both menace and mockery, perfectly suited to our purpose.
I let my aura fluctuate wildly - one moment it towers like a mountain range, the next it shrinks to almost nothing. The perfect illusion of unstable, uncontrollable power. No one can tell if we're supreme beings about to level the planet or just particularly clever weaklings.
My laughter continues to echo, mixing with the dragon's thunderous snores as we prepare to give this assassin a performance he'll never forget.
I watch through my divine sense as the tiny formation Lala crafted detaches from her body. It drifts through the air like a mote of dust, completely invisible to mortal eyes. The array shifts and transforms, its purpose changing from surveillance to transportation.
The assassin looms over Lala, his face twisted in a sneer. Behind him, Nor's body lies in an expanding pool of blood, his chest barely moving.
The array activates. One moment the assassin stands triumphant, the next he materializes in our crystalline cavern. His expression shifts from confusion to shock as he takes in the impossible space around him.
My claws sink into his right shoulder while Quill's grip crushes his left. His supposedly impenetrable defense crumples like wet paper against our true strength. The assassin's face contorts as he realizes his power means nothing here.
"Hello there," Quill growls, his bestial voice echoing off the crystal walls.
"Hi hi hi hi," I cackle, my enormous belly shaking with each laugh. The sound bounces and multiplies until it fills every corner of the cavern.
The pressure builds as we combine our strength with the cavern's enhanced gravity. The assassin's eyes bulge, his legs trembling beneath him. His consciousness wavers, then slips away completely.
I bare my fangs in a wicked grin. This is just the beginning. We have all the time in the world to make this lesson stick. Every second will be burned into his memory, a permanent reminder of his greatest mistake.