The attack found the parasite and it burst apart into pieces. A moment later a dark ball of void evaporated his head and led him into darkness.

Death. Again and again. Worthless, meaningless death. What good was it to die in battle, if you only woke up to battle again?

He often dreamed of the final death. The peaceful slumber of eternal dark that held no pain, nor joy. But that was not his fate.

Emerson rose up again, his head as good as new. He watched his brothers charge and took a moment, despite the push coming from the Deathless Plate. His God. His one true master and his fate.

He couldn’t remember why he was in this accursed place. Was it his actions throughout life? From what he knew of himself, the little that his deaths hadn’t chipped away at yet, he was a good person. A decent fellow. He was pretty sure he had friends once, even if their names were long taken from him and their faces were nothing but a blank spot in his rotting mind.

Maybe he had done something bad. Yes, that was it. After all, one bad deed was enough to wash away a decent life.

He stepped forward as a new aura rose and washed over the world. There was another battle in the distance and he longed to be part of it, if only because he needed change. However, he was to kill and die to the endless hordes of monsters coming from the chasm.

Emerson rushed in, unable to hold on to the call of battle. The Deathless Plate demanded him to fight, and so, he would fight. He kept fighting and dying and fighting again, and in the small moments he had to be himself, just as he rose from the dead, he paid attention to the changes in the world.

He forgot most of them of course, but they kept happening, and they kept reminding him of their existence.

Emerson rose from death once again, and this time, he was allowed to take a step back. A true change was happening. A change he couldn’t ignore.

The Deathless Plate cried in his mind with a sound that tore through and reached for each protective instinct set in his biological makeup. His very DNA.

Emerson felt the adrenaline, the madness, the desire to protect wash over him like nothing before. He and his brothers rushed as one, ignoring the hordes of monsters that kept coming.

The world above the source of the chain around his soul cracked open as if forced by giant hands. Emerson felt a presence on the other side. A presence that made his mind churn and fight against the reigns that were holding him prisoner.

He screamed and stumbled, but kept running.

There was a dark figure next to the plate. A man in armor dark as night. His hands were spread and a strange bronze artifact was rotating before him, its purple tendrils wrapping around the Deathless Plate and… damaging its hold on them.

Was someone trying to save them? It couldn’t be. Who would come for them? Who would come for him?

No, it was silly. They were not the target. It was the Plate itself. Thieves had come for the plate and he needed to protect it!

But why? It was his suffering, his prison guard, and the reason he still lived despite wishing for permanent death.

It happened in a flash.

An alabaster hand reached and took it away, just like that. The man in black armor was gone, and so was the Deathless Plate.

The chain around his neck disappeared like it had never been and his mind became clearer.

There was only one thought remaining in place of all the desires that had been forced on him by the damned artifact.

He turned around to see the hordes of monsters advance and slay those brothers who were at the back. He waited a moment, then two, but they didn’t rise again.

The opportunity he had waited for had finally come, and he could die once and for all.

He laughed despite himself and charged toward the walls of the outpost.

For some silly reason, he felt like living now.

***

The world was coming undone around them as the formation lost power. Alan cursed in his mind and felt the anxiety slowly rise inside of him. No matter how much power he borrowed, or what he could currently do, there was no surviving the end of the world.

Perhaps the spirits will help me?

He tried calling on the [Friend of the Spirit World], but nothing seemed to happen for the time being. Was it because he had nothing to offer, or…

“Xil? Xil you here?” he asked in his mind. Maybe the demon would have an idea despite his memory issues.

Once again, there was no response. He was worried the ritual had damaged Xil, or the demon’s prison, but he couldn’t check now.

His last way out was using the Transient Bazaar token, but it needed to be done in a World Temple… or perhaps the place in the outpost that served as one? I can’t just leave the rest here though.

Alan looked around and in a second, he appeared next to the sleeping dragon. The pieces of crystalized [Red Cleric] were littering the ground, but he was here for the remainder of the elixirs and potions she had been fed. If they survived this, having healing could come in handy. And Byrr could use some too, if the man was still around and alive. All the vials, empty or not disappeared in his shadow inventory.

The story has been taken without consent; if you see it on Amazon, report the incident.

Next, [Void Dragon Leap] brought him to the calm Kalyntha and furious Zirida in but a moment. It was an amazing skill and it felt almost as if his mind couldn’t keep up with the speed it offered, even though he seemed to have a much easier time processing information under the effects of [Dragon’s Focus].

“What do we do?” he asked, not worrying he would startle them. There was no time for pleasantries.

Zirida looked at him for a few moments, obviously struggling with the many questions bubbling on the tip of her tongue, before she shook her head.

“No treasure of mine will save us from this. I have a way out, but I can’t take you.”

Kalyntha shrugged. “I’m a copy. I don’t care if I die. I will live through my original and all my experiences will go to her. Sucks for you guys, I really liked you.”

That’s one way to put it.

Alan smiled. He found it endearing for some reason, now that quite an unpleasant ending was looming above them all. “Yeah, I really liked being alive too. There has to be a way.”

“Technically it’s not all over,” Kalyntha smiled reassuringly. A mountain behind her seemed to sink into the ground with a strange sound that hurt their ears. More tiny fractures appeared in the space around them. The ground beneath the sleeping dragon was slowly cracking too.

“As I was saying,” Kalyntha started again but was interrupted as the sky tore right above them. There was only a starless void behind. The flowing mana around them instantly seemed to thin, and the fractal became darker. It didn’t seem to bother Kalyntha, although everyone else freaked out a bit.

“AS I WAS SAYING,” Kalyntha pouted, “Someone stole the Deathless Plate.”

“They what?” Zirida exclaimed.

Alan’s eyes grew wide.

“Yep. Crazy stuff. So, we can expect the cavalry any moment now. The Dragons won't leave their only void offspring to die like that, and losing the Deathless Plate will put them on Thelyra Dynasty’s bad side. No one wants to be on their bad side.”

Alan felt his heart skip a beat. The dragon’s power was beginning to wane. “If the plate is gone… What is happening to those it made immortal?!”

Kalyntha shrugged. “They’re probably dying as of this moment. Technically, the disappearance of the Plate might sever their sentences short, so… the lucky ones get to go home maybe? I don’t know how it works.”

Fuck. I hope Emerson made it. Fuck. Fuck. Fuck. I was too content. I should’ve used the dragon’s power to look for him. It would’ve only taken me a moment. I hope it’s not too late.

Without a word he made use of [Void Dragon Leap], utilizing the skill to its full potential. He felt the strain this time but still appeared above the walls of the Outpost. It had taken him all of three seconds, and it was his longest leap yet. He stopped the coughs, ignored the surging blood in his veins, and the headache that was coming, and leaped again to get near the battlefield.

Where the Deathless Plate had hung, was only a strange bronze piece of metal. What the fuck?

He scanned the surroundings for any sign of Emerson. The battlefield was a mess as a horde of endless monsters was marching toward the unmanned walls of the outpost. There were some defenders in gray armor, but they were dying quickly. Some were running, but few were seemingly welcoming their deaths with a smile.

Alan gritted his teeth. He soon saw Emerson, or what had become of him. A husk of his friend’s former face. Cheated by a servant of a god, and sentenced to die countless deaths in a vain battle. I should’ve come sooner. Without this borrowed power, I wouldn’t have been able to do anything though…

Alan’s eyes widened as he saw the monsters almost catch up. A giant crack in space tore the horde in half behind, urging them forward.

He extended his hands and [Grasp of the Void Dragon] appeared once again. Tens of dark claws crushed and tore apart the monsters nearest Emerson as if they were no more than toys in the hands of a child. Alan couldn’t save everyone, and he wouldn’t try to. His time was running out.

He felt the power wane as he appeared near his friend and without a word grabbed him. Emerson yelled in surprise, but couldn’t resist before the two took to the skies again. Alan forced another leap to return to Kalyntha and Zirida. The skill stopped a short distance from the two women, and he felt the power completely abandon him. He fell, along with Emerson

Orbs of steel managed to catch them just in time. The metal flowed like water and slowly lowered them to their feet.

Alan tried to speak but instead lost his balance. A strong arm caught him as black blood rose up and started dripping down from his mouth. There was wetness in his ears too. Was that how he would die? Was the power too much?

The weakness was overwhelming and it seemed like his whole weight was held up by Zirida’s one hand. He shook his head and tried to speak but no words came.

Alan had thought it was Emerson holding him up, but the man was staring wide-eyed at him, unmoving as if he was struggling to recognize Alan. Poor guy.

No System messages were coming and Alan tried to chuckle at the thoughts that came to him. Would the System send him a ‘You have died’ if he did end up dying? Or a ‘Game Over’ – that would be quite the funny ending. With a last-ditch effort, he summoned a few of the vials he had just stolen. Zirida instantly went for them and after a glance, started pouring them in his mouth. Some went on his face and chest, but the liquid seemed to not care as it simply sank into his skin.

He felt some warmth and some strength returning to him, but the fatigue still threatened to pull him under.

“Thanks,” he managed.

“Poor boy, come, let me help. The aftereffects of [Bestowment] can be nasty,” Kalyntha said and got on his other side, gently rubbing his back. He wasn’t sure how that would help, but he wasn’t about to argue.

“A-Alan?” Emerson finally managed in a choked-up voice. There were tears in his eyes as he crumpled to the floor. Another mountain seemed to shatter into pieces when a hole appeared right in the middle of it. Alan ignored the sight.

“The very same. Glad to see you, Em.”

Emerson looked up – his face was gaunt. The man’s armor was just as Alan remembered, but the man’s eyes were dark and filled with suffering and sorrow that had been absent even after the first weeks of apocalyptic survival. Dying so much would do that to a man, I guess.

“What is happening, I—”

“We’re all about to die, Em. Sorry I didn’t come earlier.” Alan smiled. His eyes were trying to close on their own from the fatigue, but he managed to keep them open. He was too tired to care about death. The unknown potions had helped, a bit, but he felt like his brain was fried.

“I think not,” Zirida whispered from the side. Alan noticed she was shaking. Her eyes were staring at the sky.

The formation crumbled like paper as a single claw tore through the whole of it in the next moment. It was the most massive thing Alan had ever seen and washed away some of the sleepiness. It blotted out the sky above them. Few more could be seen appearing in the distance, and it became apparent they belonged to the same limb.

There was a crunch and the formation fully disintegrated along with the clouds beneath. The fractal shook and fractured, but it remained whole, held together by the power of the great beast that was staring at them.

Golden-red eyes like two suns made the world brighter.

Alan felt like an insignificant ant, a speck of dust that was about to be blown away by the greatest storm.

A dragon had come out from the void.

A dragon as large as the very world they stood on.

It seemed to be holding the whole fractal in its claws.