Chapter 155 ‒ Shatterpoint
Chapter 155 ‒ Shatterpoint
Cracks formed across Miridiel’s body — thin, luminous fractures that pulsed like veins of molten glass. The lines spiderwebbed outward from his chest, each new faultline glowing with white light. His expression twisted in disbelief.
“No…” he whispered, voice layered in static, like shattered glass grinding against steel. “This can’t be happening… I can’t lose…”
The chamber’s silence deepened as light seeped from the ruptures in his skin, piercing the haze like beams of truth through shadow. His form flickered — unstable, trembling under its own perfection.
Tyler stood motionless for a heartbeat, watching.
It was working.
But he didn’t relax. Couldn’t.
[Remaining Duration: 00:00:12]
He grimaced, one hand clamped tightly over his side. The gash in his ribs still oozed black steam, a ghost of the fatal wound lingering beneath the glow of invincibility. He could feel it. The truth beneath the silence.
Twelve seconds. That’s all I have left. Once this is over, I’m done for. But if he falls first…
The broken mirror lay in ruins behind him, its jagged remnants glittering like frozen lightning across the floor. Shattered illusions. A severed tether.
Miridiel staggered back a step. His breathing was ragged, no longer smooth and elegant — but guttural, rasping. His crimson eyes flared.
“DIE, TAAAAEEELAAAR!!”
The voice was no longer his. It was distorted, monstrous — layered with echoes and hate. His body convulsed as he lunged forward, the black-glowing scythe raised high, arcs of Annihilation energy dripping like tar from the blade’s edge.
Tyler moved.
A single breath. Then—
Now.
He surged forward, boots shattering glass beneath him. Miridiel’s swing came down in a sweeping arc meant to split him in two, but Tyler dropped into a low slide, his body grazing the floor as the deadly blade screamed inches above his head.
His heart pounded. I can’t give up. He twisted upward—
Not now. —And drove the scythe straight into Miridiel’s ribs.
The impact hit like thunder.
[Activated Skill: Annihilation]
A cascade of obsidian energy exploded outward as the blade pierced through flesh and shadow. The moment it sank into Miridiel’s core, the cracks on his body erupted wider, stretching out in branching, jagged patterns that surged toward his limbs and skull.
“For Milo… for all of them…”
For a split second, doubt clawed at the back of his mind — What if it’s not enough? What if Miridiel survived even this? He buried the fear beneath focus and gritted his teeth harder, forcing the scythe in deeper, locking eyes with the fragmenting creature in front of him.
Miridiel’s eyes widened — not in pain, but in sheer horror. The white light burst from his mouth, his nose, his eyes — searing arcs of brilliance tearing through the fractured shell.
He screamed.
Not a cry of rage.
A scream.
One of oblivion.
His voice echoed through the mirrored chamber like a bell struck in a collapsing cathedral. Shards of glowing glass split off from his arms and shoulders, floating upward like dying stars.
Within the widening fractures, Tyler caught glimpses — not of bone or blood, but of faces.
His face.
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Miridiel’s body was a mirror — and now, that mirror was breaking.
The cracks hissed as they spread, like ice fracturing on fire. A shimmering, harmonic whine filled the chamber — high-pitched and mournful, like the final chord of a forgotten song.
[Remaining Duration: 00:00:04]
The light intensified. Blinding. Searing. Tyler shielded his eyes with one hand, but didn’t let go of the scythe with the other. The heat wasn’t real, but it felt like his soul was being lit on fire.
Still, he held on.
I can’t lose.
Miridiel’s form collapsed inward, like a paper lantern devoured from within. The cracks joined, widened, and then—
FLASH.
---
A white light bloomed, engulfing everything. Walls, floor, air — even the echoes vanished. The world blinked into blinding silence, a frozen instant of sheer radiance.
[Remaining Duration: 00:00:01]
Light.
That was the first thing Tyler saw — an endless expanse of white, so pure and boundless it had no depth, no horizon. He floated, weightless, suspended in a space that felt more like a pause than a place.
“Where… am I?”
The last thing he remembered was plunging the scythe deep into Miridiel’s ribs. Then—light. Not heat. Not pain. Just light. A blinding wave that had devoured everything.
Now, this.
He looked down. His armour was gone. The scythe, vanished. But the wound—
He touched his side and winced. The gaping tear was still there, raw and deep, a silent echo of the battle. No black steam hissed from it, but the pain pulsed faintly beneath the surface, a reminder.
So it wasn’t a dream.
He exhaled and summoned his system window with a thought.
[Achievement Unlocked: Beyond the Final Reflection]
[Grade: SS]
[Condition: Defeat the final boss and the last wall, Miridiel, the Mirrored Soul.]
He stared at it.
No joy. No pride. No rush of victory. Just numbness. He dismissed the message.
[Remaining Duration: 00:00:01]
The number stared back at him.
Still frozen.
Still unmoving.
He furrowed his brow. Why hasn’t it ticked down? The potion… It should’ve worn off by now.
As he reached to close the system window, another prompt shimmered into view.
[Entering Sanctuary: Aether Realm]
“Aether Realm…?” he echoed. “Is this for real?”
His voice barely echoed in the void. “Wait… am I dead?”
[You are still alive, Tyler. At least, for now.]
The voice cut through the silence like thunder across still water. Deep. Regal. Ancient.
Tyler turned.
And froze.
A colossal form hovered before him — serpentine and elegant, vast enough to coil around mountains, yet moving with grace that defied its size. Scales of rich azure shimmered with light, each one inscribed with shifting runes. Its mane flowed like liquid sapphire, its antler-like horns curving with celestial symmetry. Twin eyes, deep as oceans and old as time, looked upon him not with judgment — but with knowing.
Divine.
That was the only word for it.
The creature radiated a presence beyond comprehension, a majesty that bent the air around it. Tyler’s knees buckled before he could think.
He knelt, not in fear — but reverence.
A memory flickered. A painting in Heartwood’s Great Hall. A long-forgotten mural of the first creation.
Tyler whispered, “Cre… Crea… Creator God?”
[Aether Dragon, The Creator God]
[Indeed. I am the Aether Dragon, the First Breath, the Woven Flame — the one they call Creator. Welcome to my sanctuary: the Aether Realm.]
Tyler bowed his head. “Th… tha… thank you.”
The dragon’s gaze softened, like clouds parting to reveal calm sky.
[You do not need to fear me, Tyler. I am a Creator, not a Destroyer. I have no desire to harm you.]
Tyler looked up, still awestruck. “Creator God… I— I have questions. Could you… would you answer them?”
The dragon’s mane rippled, its vast body floating in a slow, rhythmic coil.
[Yes, Tyler. I hold the knowledge you seek. I know why you were brought into this world. I know why you suffered. Why you fought. I know the meaning behind every hardship you endured.]
Tyler’s eyes widened. He clenched his fists. That was all he’d ever wanted — to know it meant something. “Then—please. Tell me—”
[But I will not.]
The words stopped him.
Not harsh. Not cruel.
But final.
[It is not that I withhold truth from you, but that you lack the time to hear it. Your body — it is unravelling. Even now, its form decays outside this sanctuary. The effects of [Annihilation] cannot be reversed. Not even by me.]
The dragon’s glow dimmed slightly, a flicker of solemnity.
[I have stopped time within this realm, Tyler, so we may speak. But I cannot hold it forever. My sanctuary slows time, it does not halt fate.]
Tyler’s throat tightened. He looked at his hands — translucent at the fingertips. The edges shimmered faintly, curling away like vapor.
Fading.
“Then… then what do I do?” he whispered.
The Aether Dragon’s gaze sharpened.
[You choose.]
A pause.
[Yes, Tyler. You have earned that right. Your journey was not meaningless. Everything you were told is true. I — the Creator — will grant you a single wish. Anything that lies within my dominion shall be granted to you.]
Tyler’s breath caught.
A wish.
Real.
[But only one. And only now. Once your time resumes, you will have no second chance. Choose wisely.]
He stared at the void.
At the emptiness.
At the wound on his side.
At the light beginning to rise behind the Aether Dragon, like the sun creeping over the end of the world.
A wish.
One chance.
“I see…” Tyler said softly.
His hand trembled, then steadied.
There was no hesitation.
Not now. Not here.
He had always known what he would ask, long before he ever stood before the Aether Dragon. The moment he first heard the Creator God could grant a wish — in the darkest nights and loneliest battles — he had held that hope close like a flame in the cold.
To go home.
To bring him home.
He looked up.
“Then Creator God… my wish… my wish is to send me, and my brother… my companion Milo, back to Earth. To our world.”
[I am afraid, that is not possible.]
Tyler blinked. It was as if the floor beneath him had vanished. The one hope he had cradled all this time… gone.