Flames ignited within the cracks of Scott’s eye, engulfing the voidweaver in a brilliant flash. Instinctively, Orion and the barbarians took a few steps back, watching as the voidweaver silently writhed in the consuming fire. The War Hammer of the Mad God trembled in sync with the roaring flames, while the Chains of the Abyss—also engulfed in fire—coiled around Scott's form.

The barbarians exchanged confused glances. The system notification announcing the lifting of restrictions lingered in the air, ignored by all. Instead, they were fixated on the ominous flames that had appeared from nowhere. To them, Scott had spontaneously combusted, and if it could happen to him, it could happen to them.

Orion narrowed his gaze, his mind racing with theories as he watched. These flames... they seem familiar. Surely it can’t be... His thoughts were cut off as the flames around Scott turned a radiant blue, and a gong-like echo reverberated through the area.

Orion's eyes widened in surprise, his mouth opening in disbelief. The inheritance of the Mad God. He’s finally been deemed worthy. He quickly stifled his awe, his attention returning to the barbarians. Now isn’t the time to be amazed. I need to protect him. Nothing can disturb the inheritance—not these ruffians, nor the minions of those mindless things that will surely come.

Orion slammed his staff into the ground, drawing the attention of the barbarians. “Leave now, and I’ll let you live. That’s the only warning you’ll get,” he declared, his icy gaze locking onto them.

The barbarians tightened their grips on their weapons, their decision made.

“Very well,” Orion said, slamming the staff down once more. “I warned you!” he roared, as seven enormous magical circles—each spanning hundreds of meters, swirling with runic patterns—encircled the mage, Scott, and the barbarians.

“I suspend all laws within my domain,” Orion intoned. Reality itself seemed to fracture as the circles shattered, one after the other. At the same moment, Orion’s eyes exploded in a grotesque fashion, while his thickening hair rushed to sew shut his lips, ears, and eyelids. The shattered circles shimmered like stardust.

The barbarians, however, were oblivious to the mage’s intentions. To them, he had only made their task easier. Then came the whispers—disjointed, incoherent, but somehow commanding, inviting and irresistible yet utterly maddening.

One by one, the barbarians stood frozen, their eyes vacant, weapons slipping from their hands.

“Please... I don’t want to know...” one barbarian begged, blood streaking down his nose and eyes.

“Make it stop!” another roared, his body trembling violently as his muscles bulged unnaturally. “I don’t hear it anymore!”

“It’s all a lie! Everything is a lie!” several others screamed in unison, delirious, as blood poured from their eyes and noses.

Those who had dropped their weapons reached for them again, hacking at their own ears with desperate force. Yet the whispers persisted, driving them further into madness. The barbarians hacked at their bodies, anything to silence the voices feeding them otherworldly knowledge.

Despite their brutal self-mutilation, life clung stubbornly to them. Death seemed unwilling to interfere with the forces tormenting their souls. Their wailing, like a dirge for the dead, filled the air, as blood poured from their broken bodies. Unbeknownst to them, a complex pattern formed beneath their feet—an intricate blood network taking the shape of a vast magical circle.

Moments later, the barbarians, still upright despite their mangled forms, lifted their bloodstained eyes toward the unseen heavens. Chanting in unison, they spoke arcane words as the circle beneath them glowed. Slowly, they began sinking into the bloody pool, their forms vanishing as it congealed into the shape of two ominous eyes.

Orion’s hair loosened from his sewn eyelids, and the new pair of eyes filled his empty sockets. He glanced briefly at Scott, who was still receiving the inheritance. Then, a tearing sound echoed through the air, and a figure appeared via a portal—a woman with hair like raging fire, her body gleaming brighter than diamonds. She wore lustrous silver armor intricately etched with patterns, while holding a radiant spear seemingly carved from polished diamond.

The figure, her eyes harboring the flicker of madness, focused solely on Scott. She attempted to step out of the portal, but an ancient voice reverberated in her ears.

“You have no right to challenge his inheritance! If you choose to interfere, you will not leave unscathed.”

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Her gaze shifted toward Orion, noticing his bloodied eyes. Ignoring the warning, she lifted her leg to step out, but the moment her foot crossed the divide, arcane whispers echoed, forcing her to halt and retreat into the portal’s safety. Her expression remained calm, though her eyes gleamed with recognition.

“The voice of the void,” she said, her tone formal. “You’re an Audeus.” She frowned, leveling her spear at Orion. “What right do you have to deny me?”

Orion remained silent.

“You will speak when I—” The woman suddenly paused, her gaze shifting to a boatman who had appeared soundlessly beside Orion.

“I should have known,” she muttered, lowering her spear. “You always have a hand in these things.” Her voice grew cold. “Still playing the role of a wily boatman? Is this some retaliation for rejecting your absurd offer?”

“Kana, breaking the rules won’t end well for you,” the boatman replied, his face mostly obscured, though a crooked smile was clearly visible.

Kana glared icily but said nothing as she retracted her spear. The portal began to close, and within seconds, she disappeared.

The boatman then turned toward Scott who was obscured in chains, observing the blue flames engulfing the ego weapon. “He’s reached the blue flames already... impressive. But it’s not enough.”

He glanced at Orion. “You shouldn’t have used the voice of—”

“Spare me your lectures,” an ancient voice cut in, though Orion’s mouth remained closed. “You, of all people, have no right to speak after what you’ve done.”

The boatman chuckled softly. “Still holding onto that, I see?”

“Why wouldn’t I?” the ancient voice snapped. “Your reckless actions are the reason we’re in this mess.”

The boatman’s grin faltered. “You never change, do you?” His voice became harsher. “If I hadn’t acted, what would have happened? The throne was already lost, and none of you had the guts to do anything about it. I was the one who made the sacrifices to prevent it from being absorbed like the other fallen gods’ thrones.”

The ground trembled as he spoke, silencing the arcane whispers surrounding them.

“And where has your brave sacrifice gotten us?” the ancient voice mocked. “We’ve lost nearly all the incarnations, and who knows how many are now under the control of the other gods? Then there’s the issue of the Great Old One. Need I remind you it was your actions that allowed them to gain a foothold here? Is this what you call success?”

The boatman’s smile faded briefly. “As I said, I have no regrets,” he muttered. “It was the only way to ensure at least one incarnation wouldn’t fall to Sibiru’s remnants or the other gods.”

Orion’s gaze darkened, mockery dancing in his eyes. “Do you even hear yourself? Let’s assume you’re right. Did you account for Hastur’s desires?”

The boatman began to speak, but suddenly Orion’s nose twitched and fell off his face. A cacophony of thunderous voices erupted all around, but amid the chaos, the ancient voice whispered directly to the boatman.

“The Nameless One has taken an interest in him as well. Did you factor that into your calculations?”

The boatman’s mouth opened slightly as the voices continued to murmur chaotically. “That’s... troubling. I’ll need to make further preparations.”

“Preparations for what?” the voice scoffed. “Now that his presence has been acknowledged, it won’t be long before the Nihilithian are revived.”

“That cannot be allowed to happen,” the boatman declared resolutely.

“Once again, you should have listened to me back then,” the voice berated, the thunderous whispers fading. “We still don’t know what else your meddling might have caused across the timeline.” As the last whisper died, Orion’s nose reformed.

This time, the boatman remained silent—but only for a moment. “Are you suppressing this child’s memories?” he abruptly asked, shifting the topic.

“That would be pointless,” the voice retorted. “If you know who you’re talking about, you wouldn’t ask such a question. It’s like the gods trying to sneak into the tower without the administrator’s permission.”

“Then you mean... he’s aware of all our plans?” the boatman questioned, skepticism lacing his voice.

“Do not doubt him,” the voice replied, sterner now. “While he is nowhere near us at the peak of our powers, he will surely surpass each and every one of us…” It paused, then added gravely, “including Arkhontis.”

“Don’t speak such blasphemous—”

“He’s already a multidimensional being,” the voice cut in, whispering directly into the boatman’s consciousness. The boatman’s mouth fell open, unable to respond.

“It’s too soon for shock,” the voice continued. “I don’t know how this child came to be, but his existence is terrifying. Yet Arkhontis’ incarnation may be even more dangerous, especially if he continues to accumulate abilities no single entity should wield.”

The voice quieted momentarily before adding, “I will share the details once they cross the Point of No Return.”

“I’ll be waiting,” the boatman replied after a brief pause. “But the longer you let the voice of the void fester, the harder it will be to contain. You know that, right?”

“Don’t lecture me,” the voice snapped. “Do you think Kana and the others will stand by and let him complete the inheritance? It’s only a matter of time before they act. Like I said, don’t underestimate him. Even I have been enlightened by the wonders of his data. If we had someone like him back then, Arkhontis wouldn’t have fallen... but alas.”

The boatman shifted his gaze between Orion’s restrained form and chains housing Scott, still engulfed in blue flames. “Our era is over. Theirs—if they survive—awaits them.” And with that, the boatman vanished.

The voice fell silent. Orion remained motionless. The stillness stretched on for several minutes until a ripping sound tore through the whispers. Orion’s gaze followed the noise, and a portal manifested in the distance. Beyond it, countless creatures of various races, clad in silver armor akin to Kana’s, began to march.

“Ponder!” one creature bellowed.

“The empty throne destined for our lord!” the masses chanted in unison.

“Wonder!” the creature roared again.

“The grace of the everlasting silver fang!”

“Bask in!” the cry came once more.

“The fervor of the king!” they responded, their voices rising.

“Eternal!” the creature shouted, its voice shaking the air.

“Is the madness of the throne!” the crowd roared together. “Only madness is eternal!”