Chapter 132: Convergent 2
The two ancient Kings regarded each other for a long moment across the broken space, the last remnants of the water between them evaporating into nothing.
Then the whale spoke.
Not in words.
The meaning simply arrived inside Francis, the way air arrives — not felt until it's already acting on you.
"Good job," the whale said, the words settling into Francis's mind like stones dropping into water. "At first, I was not convinced you were the right person for this. But Eerak told me you were the best candidate."
"Ruthless. Efficient. You take every opportunity given to you, without hesitation, without waste."
The serpent beside it shifted, six eyes narrowing slightly, as if weighing the words against something only it could see.
"Is that a compliment?" Francis inquired.
"Take it whatever you like." It responded.
"I don't care about those details. What I'm more concerned about is the revival of my daughters."
Francis's attention turned toward the serpent. "You're Eerak right?"
"That is correct," it nodded.
"Good. Then tell me first: if I use the revival stone, will I really get them back? I'm not talking about recreating them through my DNA—that would be closer to cloning than revival. I want my real daughters, including all their memories, just as they were before they died."
"You are not greedy for power or authority. But when it comes to your daughters, your desire for it is bottomless."
"I don't need your opinion of me. Just be honest."
"Of course. It's the least we could do for your cooperation with our plan. The revival stone I gave you as a reward isn't just any stone. It is the culmination of my power and Lugar's. It will surely revive your daughters. However, there is a catch."
Francis didn't react. He had already expected it. He understood it well enough—revival was never only about biology. It was something more metaphysical than that.
"I read the mission, and it said I need to retrieve their souls from the afterlife."
"That is correct. Unlike our world, where the dead simply die or their souls are absorbed by the beasts that devour them, your original world operates differently. It has its own gods that govern it, and they created a system where souls are sent to another realm they call the afterlife."
"Wait. Own gods? Original world? Are you telling me I can go back to my world?"
"The universe is indeed very vast. Even if you could travel at the speed of light, it would still be nearly impossible to return to your world. Even with teleportation, you wouldn't be able to do it, because everything is constantly moving."
"Then how can I return?"
"The key to that is your own soul. You see, despite transferring you to this world, you still left part of yourself behind in your original world. I'm talking about your corpse. It can act as a beacon once you activate the revival stone."
Francis nodded. It explained a lot of things.
He had once thought the ideas of heaven and hell were inventions—stories made by people trying to give shape to things they couldn't understand.
It also explained this world. There was no religion here. Only the Covenant came close, and even then, they did not call them gods. They called them Kings.
This meant that in his previous world, the gods—though they never intervened directly or revealed themselves to humans—still ensured they were worshipped.
"So once I break this world's restriction, I just have to use the revival stone, and it will lead me to my world. And there, I can access the afterlife you told me about?"
"Yes. But you will still have to fight the ruler of your original world. Their strength was far beyond ours individually. When we found you as the perfect candidate, we had to use all our strength just to pull your soul out immediately without alerting them."
Francis contemplated. Things were getting more complicated. He doubted the gods of his world would welcome him once he returned. He was an anomaly—a parasite, in the literal sense.
Their natural reaction was to completely exterminate him.
"Tell me, after I devour all of you and everything I've gained from this, do you think I have a chance of winning?"
"I don't know," Eerak said, shaking its head. "You may be stronger in one-on-one combat, but we don't know their full power."
"Don't be too pessimistic, Eerak. I'm sure he can handle it," Lugar interjected. "But just to increase your chance, it's better if you don't use the revival stone too soon. You've become stronger, but your strength mainly comes from the number of abilities you've accumulated. You haven't had time to temper it properly, because there was no one here worthy enough to be your opponent."
Francis agreed. He had already planned to spend time refining his abilities from the start. Now that he was this close, he wouldn't make the mistake of rushing into a fight he couldn't win.
"Let's get this over with. I'll handle things when I get there."
"That's the spirit," Lugar laughed. "You just have to beat down anything that dares block your way."
"I plan to do that." Francis gave a small smile.
The two ancient kings nodded, and then slowly they dissolved into fragments of fading light.
.
.
.
BOOOOOM!
Francis burst out of the ocean. Water scattered around him in a wide arc before falling back in heavy sheets.
His body had changed again.
His pale skin remained, but it looked smoother now, almost stripped of texture. His eyes were uncovered—no longer hidden. Six in total, arranged in uneven symmetry across his face. They blinked out of sync, each one adjusting to a different layer of perception.
He stayed suspended above the water for a moment, as if testing the weight of his own body.
"Status."
Nothing appeared.
No window. No interface. No response layered over his vision.
He exhaled slowly, accepting it without surprise. The system was gone now—absorbed along with its creator. There was no need for it.
Francis clenched his fist.
The ocean around him erupted upward, as if something unseen had punched through the sea from beneath. Water rose in a massive ring, then broke apart into rain that filled the sky above him.
But before a single drop could fall—
It stopped.
All of it.
Suspended mid-air.
Space within roughly a thousand-meter radius around him fell into absolute lock down. Not just motion, but the very structure of matter gave out. Atoms locked in place, their vibration forcibly halted.
Only light remained unaffected, continuing to thread through the frozen world as Francis allowed it—thin beams cutting through a silent, suspended ocean.
He stood at the center of it all, untouched by ability he imposed.
This ability alone would have given him a high degree of confidence in retrieving his daughters' souls. But after hearing Eerak and Lugar speak about the gods, that certainty began to weaken.
Fortunately, he now had time to better understand and refine his abilities, or so he hoped.
Looking toward the horizon, he could feel a distant pressure—a lingering threat despite the vast space between them.
His thoughts drifted back to the silver substance he had seen earlier.
Curiosity got the better of him, so he accelerated toward it.
He no longer needed wings to fly. By manipulating space itself, he kept his body suspended in the air. Then he began feeding kinetic energy into himself, continuously increasing his speed in a way that should have been impossible.
The acceleration never stopped.
With no need for thrust, no need for lift, and no concern for inertia, he simply kept getting faster. The ocean blurred beneath him. Clouds vanished behind him almost as soon as they appeared. Wind resistance ceased to matter as space around him adjusted to his passage.
Francis narrowed all six eyes.
The feeling of danger grew stronger with every passing second. It wasn't directed at him, nor was it an attack. It was simply there, vast and oppressive.
The air around him exploded as he came to an instant stop.
BOOM!
The ocean below caved inward before rebounding violently, sending walls of water racing across the surface. The force of it could be felt for kilometers around him.
Francis remained motionless at the center of the disturbance.
"What the hell is that thing?" he muttered aloud.
He noticed that the silver substance was far larger than before, and it was spreading far too quickly. It stretched across the horizon, covering everything he could see.
His six eyes focused on different parts of it simultaneously.
It was still growing.
Without warning, the silver surface erupted.
Dozens of metallic tendrils burst, tearing through the air with frightening speed. It twisted and branched as they shot toward him, growing longer with every fraction of a second.
The moment he saw them, every cells on his body screamed the same warning. Do not let it touch you.
"STOP."
Everything came to a complete standstill, including the silver tendrils.