Chapter 419: The Beginning Of The End [LXXXI]

Aestrea stared at the outstretched hand, not moving for a few seconds.

For a long moment, the only sound in the chamber was the low hum of Octo’s machines and the faint, artificial pulse running through the walls.

“Haah…”

Aestrea let out a slow breath.

He lowered his gaze slightly, looking not at Octo’s face, but at the hand itself. The fingers. The trembling anticipation.

The desperation hidden beneath confidence.

“…Rule with you?” Aestrea finally spoke.

“Yes,” Octo spokeeagerly. “With me. We end the cycle. No more corrections. No more blood on your hands. You’ll never have to descend again.”

Aestrea lifted his eyes.

Moon-shaped pupils locked onto Octo’s gaze.

“What a joke…” he shook his head lightly.

“You seem to be misunderstanding something,” he then added.

“Oh?” Octo tilted his head.

“I don’t give a single fuck about whatever it happes to this world. And I don’t erase gods because they’re inconvenient.”

He took a single step forward.

The floor beneath his foot cracked soundlessly.

“The only things I care about are the people that I care about. And the only reason I kill people is that they offended me in some kind of way.”

Octo’s smile stiffened.

“Besides, your logic is very fucking flawed. You speak of choice, and yet your entire dream is built on its removal.”

“Hah,” Octo scoffed lightly. “Choice is an illusion. People want to be guided. They beg for order when chaos hurts them enough.”

“They beg because pain exists.”

He stopped a few meters away from Octo.

“And everyone… obviously doesn’t like pain, only if they have strange hobbies, but besides that… why would I team up with you?”

“…In my eyes, you are nothing but cannon fodder that dies within five episodes.”

For a split second, Octo didn’t react.

His expression froze, not in shock, not in rage, but in complete disbelief.

“…What?” he asked quietly.

The word came out thin, almost fragile, as if he hadn’t quite heard it correctly.

Aestrea didn’t repeat himself. He simply looked at Octo the same way one would look at something already dead.

That was when it happened.

Octo’s body began to tremble.

Not violently at first, just a light shaking, starting at his fingers and crawling up his arms.

The mechanical parts embedded in his flesh whirred erratically, lights flickering out of rhythm. His breathing turned uneven, shallow, then suddenly sharp.

“…Cannon… fodder?” Octo repeated.

His voice cracked, and then he laughed.

Not the composed, theatrical laugh from before.

This one was truly broken.

Even uglier than before…

“PWAHAHAHAHAHA!”

It echoed harshly against the chamber walls, scraping the air like shattered glass.

“Do you have any idea…” Octo suddenly roared, slamming his fist into the floor.

BOOOOM!

The ground cracked outward, metal bending and stone exploding as shockwaves rippled across the chamber.

“What it took to get here?!”

His head snapped up, veins bulging along his neck and face, the mechanical eye blazing uncontrollably.

“I was dissected,” he screamed. “Cut open while still conscious! Gods tore me apart just to see how my authority reacted under pain!”

Images flashed across the projections without his command, showing countless blurred memories of laboratories soaked in blood, restrained bodies screaming, divine sigils carved into living flesh.

“I failed hundreds of times!” Octo continued, his voice shaking violently.

“Do you know how many times my soul almost collapsed?! How many times I begged just to stop existing?!”

His fists clenched so tightly that metal creaked.

“I watched geniuses get praised while I was called defective. I watched tyrants rise simply because they were born right. I watched worlds burn while the so-called ’balance’ you worship did nothing!”

He staggered forward a step, eyes bloodshot.

“And you…” he hissed, pointing at Aestrea, “…you show up after all of that and call me a five-episode obstacle?”

His laugh turned hysterical.

“Five episodes?” he repeated hoarsely. “I’ve lived through eras of suffering that would shatter your reincarnations!”

The machinery around him began to activate on its own.

Deep, mechanical thuds echoed beneath the floor. Runes burned crimson. Tubes pulsed violently as divine energy surged through Octo’s body at unstable levels.

“I didn’t ask to be weak!” he screamed.

“I didn’t ask to be born insignificant!”

He slammed both hands onto his own chest.

“I made myself matter!”

The chamber shook harder now, walls groaning under pressure.

“And now you stand there, thinking that you’re special and judging me like I’m some disposable extra in your endless story!”

His face twisted completely, tears mixing with blood as his expression warped into something feral.

“No,” he growled.

“No. You don’t get to erase me that easily.”

Aestrea didn’t interrupt his words at all, simply looking at him like some madman who couldn’t accept reality.

That, more than anything, pushed Octo over the edge.

“LOOK AT ME!” Octo screamed.

His authority erupted.

The very air warped, bending inward as invisible forces crushed space itself.

The projections shattered instantly, screens exploding into fragments as Octo’s power flooded the room unchecked.

“I WILL NOT BE FORGOTTEN!” he roared.

His body began to change.

Metal spread further across his skin, veins glowing violently as divine circuits carved themselves deeper into his flesh.

His spine arched unnaturally, joints cracking as layers of suppressed authority broke free all at once.

“You wanted my pain?” Octo snarled.

“Then choke on it!”

With a savage motion, he thrust his arm forward.

CRACK!!!

Space screamed as a compressed wave of pure control shot toward Aestrea, invisible yet devastating, carrying with it countless layers of forced obedience, collapse commands, and authority suppression.

The moment it left his hand, Octo vanished.

FWOOOM!

He reappeared above Aestrea, both arms raised as dozens of mechanical blades formed midair, each one vibrating with unstable divinity.

“DIE KNOWING YOU WERE WRONG!” Octo screamed.

He brought everything down at once.

To this, Aestrea simply unsheathed Midnight… only Midnight.

“You think a mere sword can reach me?” Octo sneered, his voice carrying over the chamber like a whip.

“I control everything. Space, time, even your perception.”

He thrust a hand forward.

A shockwave exploded outward, not through air, but directly into the space Aestrea occupied.

The pressure wasn’t physical at all! It tried to forcibly relocate him, compressing the very coordinates of his existence.

Aestrea blinked and sidestepped.

Fwip!

Aestrea’s form vanished and reappeared to the left of the attack.

Octo’s eyes widened slightly, though only for a fraction of a second, before he adjusted his authority again.

“You’ll never land a hit!” Octo bellowed. “Every move you make, every step, I can predict, and can control!”

He lunged forward with a punch.

Fwoop!

It wasn’t a normal punch since his fist seemed to stretch, elongating unnaturally as if he had extended his body beyond its limits.

The air itself bent around him, trying to pull Aestrea into the strike.

Aestrea tilted his head slightly, assessing his movement before simply stepping forward.

Fwip!

Octo’s punch passed harmlessly beneath Aestrea’s chest, the distortion of space collapsing just behind him.

“Forward, huh…” Octo muttered, almost with respect, before immediately retracting his arm and spinning midair.

His legs kicked downward in a crushing strike aimed to pierce Aestrea’s defense.

But Aestrea didn’t move backward.

Instead, he jumped upward, twisting in midair, letting the foot crash into the empty space beneath him.

The kick struck nothing but air; Octo’s leg shattered the floor tiles beneath.

Octo hissed, retracting his limbs.

His Authority of Control flared wildly, and suddenly the entire room seemed alive.

Tiles rose, debris hovered, and pieces of the walls lunged at Aestrea as if they were extensions of Octo’s will.

Every stone, every shard of metal, every loose fragment of the ceiling tried to strike him simultaneously.

Aestrea’s eyes narrowed slightly.

“Predictable,” he muttered.

With a single step, he vanished.

Fwip!

He appeared above the room, above the debris, letting gravity carry him down as shards slammed into the floor harmlessly.

The sound of splintering metal and stone echoed, but he remained untouched.

Octo’s face twisted.

He dropped into a crouch midair, then surged upward, arms swinging in a wide arc. Massive crescent-shaped waves of energy erupted, intended to collapse on Aestrea like a cage.

Aestrea tilted his head again, lips curling slightly.

Fwip!

He vanished inside one of the waves, letting it pass through him harmlessly.

Then, as it continued forward, he reappeared behind Octo, slashing outward with a single movement of Midnight.

The sword cut through the air, leaving a silver streak.

CLANG!

Octo’s mechanical arm materialized just in time to intercept the sword. Sparks flew, and the air itself seemed to crack around the impact.

“You’re fast! As expected from a Fallen God!” Octo hissed, flexing his Authority to push Aestrea backward.

Aestrea barely moved and simply stepped to the side.

Octo’s eyes flickered, and his aura flared up violently.

He extended both hands forward, sending out invisible waves that bent Aestrea’s movements before he even began them.

But Aestrea was already gone.

Fwip! Fwip! Fwip!

He appeared above, below, to the left and right, each time slashing at Octo, testing his defense and thing slike that,

“How… how can you move?! Everything obeys me!” Octo growled, his veins throbbing with complete annoyance.

And yet, as furious as he was, Octo was still precise with his moves.

Every strike he threw forced Aestrea to move in exact patterns.

Every wave of control forced him to calculate, to vanish, to twist. And yet, Aestrea’s calm, cold eyes betrayed none of the pressure.

’Forward again…’

He leapt diagonally across the chamber, sliding across shattered tiles that tried to pull him downward through Octo’s manipulation.

With a flick of his wrist, he sent Midnight spinning, creating a silver crescent that intercepted a floating shard of debris midair, shattering it harmlessly.

BOOOM!

Octo’s attacks accelerated, more desperate, more chaotic.

Punches, sweeping kicks, spikes of energy, floating debris, compressed gravity… all flung at Aestrea with the precision of a master and the madness of someone losing control.

Aestrea danced through it all, easily dodging every attack that came on his way.

Octo’s face twisted further, almost in disbelief.

“You… you move like a god who knows his death is inevitable!” he shouted, arms swinging in a wide arc to collapse the space itself around Aestrea.

Fwip!

Aestrea was already gone.

He appeared midair, above a floating slab of debris Octo had flung, letting it fall harmlessly below.

He tilted his head with a mocking expression.

“You’re quite strong.”

“But you’re predictable. Every move has a pattern. Every motion can be avoided. Every attack… can be survived.”

“SHUUUUUUUUUUT ITTTTTTTTT!” Octo screamed, his aura flaring violently.

Boooooooooooom!

The chamber shook as he attempted to warp reality to an unbearable extreme.

And yet Aestrea continued, stepping, vanishing, reappearing, sliding through the void of control as if he was simply dancing through an empty stage.

Fwoooooooop!

Octo’s mechanical arm swung down in a strong strike, meant to crush Aestrea beneath his Authority itself.

Aestrea tilted his head slightly, smiled mockingly, and vanished.

BAAM!

The punch slammed into nothing but the cracked floor.

“…YOU SON OF A BITCH!”

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