Chapter 414: Apocryphal

First chap of the week. Read the 413 before!
Enjoy!

PS: Priam Character Sheet 
PSS: Discord to say hello and discuss the chappies!

*

Reality fractured. Like a glitch in the Matrix, Knightmare’s presence threatened to collapse the simulation itself.

Fuck.

Priam’s instincts howled as his Concepts turned distant, muted. His own aether froze, refusing his command. Only his Supremacies still obeyed.

Fuck. Fuck. Fuck.

[Kinetic Sovereignty] faltered, and Priam plummeted. As he fell, a glimpse of the sky revealed the crimson star swelling there. The Necromoon. 

Fucking fuck!

Terror gripped him, a cold tide in his veins. Death’s breath on his neck steadied him. His old intimacy with the reaper gave him an anchor.

Wings burst from his back, blood and flame entwining. With Micro to stabilize his flight, Priam soared once again.

I need to breathe. I can do this. Knightmare and this world are fucked, but I can survive. Just need to flee fast and far enough!

Scanning the storm for the kitten, Priam was seeking an exit.

“Look out!”

The shout saved his life, giving him just enough time to dodge a wind spear. Just the wind from the attack sent Priam tumbling dozens of meters away. When he finally stabilized, he swallowed hard as he saw the aftermath of the attack: a scar in the dimensional fabric of the world. Where the projectile had passed, the world was bleeding.

Despite the chaos, Knightmare still sought to end their duel.

The vessel had changed. Two white eyes and an incandescent crown contrasted with a body covered in a viscous, black liquid. Kazuki’s skeleton was hidden beneath it, but Priam understood that nothing was left of his friend. The foundation of the monster was a broken soul, but it was now more than that. Less, too.

The apocryphal entity raised his arm. A javelin of pure energy coalesced in its grip, and Priam knew—there was no dodging or blocking this. Spear Mastery IV was a mid-Tier Supremacy, and this thing was no tribal Transcendent.

The projectile vanished into motion, too swift for Priam’s sight—only to detonate against a golden shield. As sparks cascaded, Priam recognized the kind of Mythic aegis he himself had once used against Sumstresh. The relic shattered beneath Knightmare’s strike, but it had done its job. Someone had sacrificed a Mythic reward to save me. Who?

A hundred meters away hovered a young woman with dusk-dark skin and eyes rimmed with gold. A worried grimace tugged fine lines into her otherwise flawless face. Two wings beat steadily at her back, holding her aloft. Above her head, a river flowed in impossible geometry—a crown without beginning or end.

She turned to Knightmare just as he loosed a half-charged wind spear. A scaled tail unfurled from her spine, snapping with such speed it cracked the air tenfold past the sound barrier. The blow caught the spear, driving it into the ground, where it detonated in a crater.

“Holy…”

[Heroic Identification]
[Kala Kairos - Tier 0 - Princess] - The Time Beast, alias The Beauty. Champion of the Zoans.
Bloodlines detected: Titan bones, Wyrm scales, Phoenix blood, Taotie maw, plus eight unknowns.

Before Priam could question his savior, a faint mewl drew his eyes. The kitten’s small body was spiderwebbed with fractures, its form barely holding together. It stared at its apocryphal creation with naked distress.

Priam mirrored that anguish. Around the cursed Knightmare, space itself warped. Mist refused his call, though the… abomination floated within a cloud. Shit—this thing’s wrecking my mind. I can’t even remember its name.

As [Free Will] faltered, Priam’s unease deepened when he felt the state of the aether through his meta-perception.

The vessel siphoned it. If reality was a rocket, it was the breach in the hull. Higher-grade energy leaked, only to return corrupted—a kaleidoscope of colors that clawed at Priam’s sanity. Low-tier aether simply ceased to exist. Even black holes eventually returned what they devoured; the apocryphal soul did not. And, it grew with every heartbeat, eating energy, matter and more.

The apocryphal entity was building momentum, and it seemed obvious that its next move would sound the death knell for the Champion.

A mental bridge connected to Priam. At his level of alacrity, he could compress the equivalent of hours of discussion into a few seconds.

“Chew this,” said Kala, tossing him a small, bloodied foot wrapped in a familiar aura.

“Ève?” Priam recognized it instantly. “You’ve got to be fucking kidding—”

“Priam! Park your paranoia and think!” the woman cried, panic cracking her voice. “If the aether itself is compromised, then so is information. In seconds, your Story will corrupt. Your karma will twist. In a minute, even the System will forget you. The Last Fae’s blessing might shield you a minute, maybe two.”

“You—” Priam turned to the anomaly and glimpsed something worse than death. “Fuck.” It wasn’t like him to trust a stranger, much less an acquaintance of Ève’s, but with the apocalypse knocking on his door, he couldn’t be picky. “Fuck!”

He swallowed the foot whole. It tasted of asparagus.

Above, the Necromoon now covered half the sky. Other heavy presences began to stir, with Priam recognizing one. She Who Weaves Fate had turned a fraction of her attention upon the false world.

“The vultures are coming. Time to bow out,” Priam muttered as another mewl split the silence.

The kitten now looked like a doll, shattered and clumsily pieced together. The weight of two Tier 9 attentions was killing it.

Avoiding the anomaly’s pull, Priam rode the mist to the kitten’s side. This time, [Tribulation Hunter] revealed many weaknesses. With a trembling hand, the Juggernaut drove Promesse into one of the biggest flaws.

The image detonated—taking with it the very laws of the simulation.

The Juggernaut had just flipped the bird to the rules that bound him.

Lvl Up: [Rule Breaker] lvl 27, 28
CHAR +6
Meta (Chance) +12

A final draconic rune etched itself across the gate, covering it completely. The solid ring of aether around Priam’s vocal cords resonated with the soul-bound rune, and the two merged—producing more than the sum of their parts.

Bloodlines:

• Phoenix: 6%

• Dragon: 5% (+1% via [Rule Breaker]’s gate)

Crown of the Juggernaut:
Minor Actions: 0/10
Major Actions: 1/3

At last.

Flexing his new Gate, Priam shattered the false karmic chains clinging to his soul.

The moment he was free, a familiar Law cast its judgment upon him. Priam didn’t bother resisting as Elysium pulled him home. The High Tribulation was over, it was time to return.

Behind him, the simulation collapsed, swallowing a counterfeit reality the Juggernaut wanted no part of.

At the last moment, Priam caught Kala’s gaze—and remembered the karmic thread binding them. One as bright and intense as the link he shared with Kazuki. Who are you?

The young woman gave him a weak smile.

Reality froze. A fraction of a heartbeat before Elysium reclaimed him, Priam glimpsed one last image of the simulation.

A pillar of light crashing down from the Necromoon. Kala exploding, every molecule of her rearranging into an alien female with bandaged eyes. In the background, a regal-looking elf watching.

At the heart of a maelstrom of aether, a half-burned skeleton consuming the very reality to stitch its soul back together. A glitch in the matrix. The embodiment of nothingness.

A blink later, Priam was back in Elysium. 

Acrid smoke stung his nostrils. The war was in full swing.

*

A few minutes earlier.

Bounding from shadow to shadow at breakneck speed, Jasmine slipped through the Aelbe defenses and reached their leader’s manor. Wasting no time, she pinpointed the most heavily guarded section and went in. Where there were guards, there was always something worth hiding.

This time, it was a heavily enchanted, trap-ridden underground hall. Ironically, most of the defenses pointed inward. Clearly, the Aelbes didn’t trust their new allies.

At the chamber’s center, the portal conjured by the Empyreans’ Hearthstone was flickering. The delegation had already passed through; Jasmine was nearly too late.

“Back up, you idiots,” the Tier 4 shaman barked with her harsh voice. “If any of you lose a limb on the far side of the rift, don’t expect me to grow it back!”

As the hunters scrambled back from the portal, Jasmine reached for Esmée’s shadow. As the princess was already on the other side, the Concept hesitated. After all, there were billions of light-years between Elysium and Proxima, and the rift was closing.

Still, Jasmine was a Shadow Sage at the Unity, and pressed harder. A thin connection formed. Dangerous, yes, but her mutant heart resonated with her Concept, stabilizing the passage. With a single leap, the assassin crossed half the universe.

You have just left Elysium.
…
Conditional freedom time granted: 1 day.

“Hey—”

The shaman’s cry cut off as the portal collapsed. The old hag spotted me. Shit. If the boys can’t punch through to Léo’s manor, my trip back is going to suck.

“What was that?” asked Aydan, wide-eyed, paranoia radiating off him.

“Griffe always insists on a goodbye kiss,” Rohan shrugged. “This time, I forgot.” After a quick glance to Esmée, he resumed. “Anyway, where are we? I expected a grander welcome.”

Jasmine heard the ice beneath the quip and understood. If the Aelbe transport hall was merely secure, its Empyrean twin was a true fortress. Everywhere she looked, she saw mechanical traps, chemical bombs, magic runes, knights in full plate, and enough explosives to bring the bunker down twice over. With hundreds of cannons pointed her way, even hidden inside Esmée’s shadow, Jasmine felt vulnerable.

Rohan seemed to share her unease. He turned on Aydan, fury barely checked.

“What does this mean?”

“It’s simply protocol.”

“Proto—”

He cut off as a wall shuddered.

“Star formation!” Rohan roared.

Fifty Tier 2s and ten Tier 3s drew steel, closing ranks around their young master. Three mythical images coalesced, ready to carve their way out if needed.

“Welcome, friends from another world,” boomed a powerful voice. The trembling wall rose to reveal a delegation of obsequious bureaucrats. At their head stood a frail man dressed a little too well, a false smile painted on. In Jasmine’s eyes, he was the very picture of a petty official—spiteful, vain, cruel to the weak, fawning before the strong.

If I worked pro bono, his wife would be a widow before nightfall. And probably happier for it.

His race recognizable by his pale hair and a halo of aether above his head, the Empyrean approached Rohan.

“Young Master Rohan Aelbe, allow me to escort you to the palace proper. Refreshments await you and your men.”

“You mean my subordinates.”

Half his hunters were huntresses.

“The buffet is yours to enjoy,” the Empyrean bowed.

“How very kind… Lead the way.”

When the official turned without sparing Aydan so much as a glance, Jasmine knew the day was about to get interesting.

*

From the Shadow’s perspective, the banquet hall was nothing short of elegant. Four-meter ceilings, stone-cut walls, polished wooden furnishings, and a terrace with pool and panoramic views of the city. The Empyreans knew how to live.

“These things are good,” a Tier 3 mumbled around a mouthful. “What are they?”

“Palmiers feuilletés au pesto,” the server replied, smiling even as crumbs hit his face.

“Mmh. Shame the portions are so small.”

“They are hors d’oeuvres, sir.”

While the Aelbes discovered that cuisine could aspire beyond charred meat, Esmée descended the stairs leading to the terrace. Skirting the pool, she leaned against a vine-wrapped balustrade and gazed at the city sprawling a kilometer in every direction.

“Thriving. Whatever else one says of Father, he knows how to bring great projects to life.” A hummingbird alighted on her shoulder, and the princess smiled as it sang. “He does have keen powers of observation.”

The innuendo was blatant enough, and Jasmine stopped peeking through every guest’s shadow. She waited for her rival to continue, but Rohan interrupted.

“Princess, I hope my absence hasn’t wearied you.”

You left her side less than half a minute ago, dude. Give the girl a breath.

Esmée was more diplomatic. “I rarely tire. Even as a child, I used punishments as a chance to hone my aether manipulation.”

“The mindset of a future Champion,” Rohan said, grinning as he bit into a fish he held bare-handed.

His fiancée tilted her head. “It still has bones and entrails. Where did you find an unprepared meal?”

“In the little pool.”

Esmée coughed delicately. “That’s an aquarium.”

“Wonderful invention. Live animals are fresher than any sliced fillet we’ve been served for the last hour.” Several Aelbes were already crowding the reservoir. A massacre loomed over the aquarium’s inhabitants. “Would you like to try one? For you, I’d catch the biggest!”

“No thank you, I’m not fond of seafood.” The princess bowed slightly, then gestured toward the city beyond. “Allow me to repay your offer with a small history lesson.”

“With pleasure. I can’t say history is my strongest discipline, but I’m sure your sweet voice will hold my attention.”

Had she had a physical body, Jasmine would have gagged.

“From the moment he set foot on Proxima, my father gathered our people using our racial Talent. The world itself aids the Empyreans,” Esmée confided. “Without delay, he began laying the foundations of this city. Knowing how many it would one day shelter, he sidestepped most of the pitfalls such an undertaking usually suffers. Sewers, water supply, magical communication networks, roads, bridges, ramparts… every infrastructure was planned in advance. With magic and the System, a few months are all he needed to finish it.”

“Impressive. The logistics to manage several million souls…” Rohan shook his head, staring out at the city. “I can hardly imagine it—just as I can scarcely fathom what a million lives even looks like. Doesn’t it feel stifling, living inside such a hive?”

Esmée smiled. “I couldn’t say. I seldom left the Imperial Palace. But there is more.” She lowered her voice, and Rohan eagerly leaned closer. “Look again at the roads, and the photoaetheric plants. Do you see it?”

It took Rohan a few seconds to tear his gaze from the princess’ eyes and study what she indicated. Then he gawked.

“It’s… a colossal rune?”

“Indeed. The sewers form another. So do the power grid and the aqueducts. My people dug the earth for months on end, sometimes with nothing but picks, believing they were building for the common good. In truth, they were inscribing a formation capable of annihilating a Tier 4… or a million rebel Tier 0s.”

From the shadows, Jasmine remembered that Esmée’s father wasn’t some invincible warlord. King or not, a revolution could topple him. Which meant public opinion mattered. Too bad bastards like him were so good at shaping it.

“…I see.” Rohan might be smitten, but he wasn’t stupid. Though his father’s figure was no longer the trump card he had hoped for, he rallied quickly. “Can this formation also be used for surveillance?”

“For now, Father lacks the computing engines to process so vast a tide of information. With two enemies pressing at our borders, it isn’t a priority. The palace, however—that is another story. He leaves nothing to chance. His eyes are everywhere.” Esmée raised her flute and drained it. “Every servant drifting about, ready to refill your cup, is a Tier 1. That may be common on Elysium, but not here. Even now, he is watching us.”

Rohan glanced at his glass, drained it in one swallow, and beckoned a servant with a dazzling smile.

“When will we meet the king?” he asked, flashing a dazzling smile.

Jasmine would have given him an award for best performance.

“You will dine with His Majesty,” the young Empyrean replied as he poured for Rohan, never once glancing at Esmée. A gust of wind blew past, yet not a hair of his immaculate coiffure moved. “Afterward, the wedding will be solemnized. And consummated.”

For the first time since arriving, Esmée’s smile faltered.

Hidden in the hummingbird’s shadow, Jasmine shook her head. One way or another, blood is gonna stain the sheets tonight.

*

Status: 

PHYSICAL:
Strength 1 259
Constitution 2 317
Agility 1 659
Vitality 2 213
Perception 998 

MENTAL:
Vivacity (D) 666
Dexterity 988
Memory 1 219
Willpower 1 310
Charisma 1 064 (+12) 

META:
Meta-affinity (O) 1 459
Meta-focus 902
Meta-endurance 1 692
Meta-perception 876
Meta-chance 1 481 (+26)
Meta-authority 1018 

Potential: 43 026 (+6)
Tier 0

[Tribulation]: Five Tribulations pending.

Next thresholds: 12 attributes > 1 200 / 3 attributes > 1 800 / 1 attribute > 2 400

*

Jasmine - cherry cocktail