CHAPTER 93: APOTHEOSIS SYMPHONIA

The battle that churned before Oizys stretched like a rupture across the divine fabric of Fathomi.

Samael’s figure collided with Kivas’ twisted Apotheosis form high above the ruined canopy, their clash pulsing with shatters of divine weight.

The monstrous silhouette that once resembled Kivas shimmered with spiraling limbs and molten sigils, even wilder and horrific than before—its body exhaling light and void simultaneously.

Halos split into fractal rings behind her gargantuan form, each rotating on a separate axis, leaking swarms of malformed entities that poured across the landscape.

Every spawn that struck the ground reformed into something new—tentacled horrors, brittle-winged shades, and non-humanoid monsters of surprisingly intelligent threat.

All around the central temple, where Yoiglah was stationed, the New Vaingall Consortium engaged in coordinated defense.

Divine Constructs, Claturians, and Karasu Association operatives formed concentric lines of resistance across the broken terrain.

Even amid the overwhelming pressure, Sarkha’una danced between spawn formations, unraveling spell matrices and severing corrupted flesh with surgical incantations.

Uhr’tarukh crushed aberrant forms beneath seismic spikes of stone-laced will and utter physical prowess, fighting like a precise barbarian.

The Divine Constructs worked in sync with their Divine Hive, every movement was ensured to be a calculated purge of corrupted essence.

From her vantage point at the temple’s fractured east wing, Oizys took in the devastation in silence.

A breeze brushed across her face, heavy with scorched ozone and spiritual residue.

Behind her, Blanchette leaned against a half-broken archway, chewing a dried fruit with her eternal calm and smiling like she was watching a romantic drama unfold in exaggerated slow motion.

"You’re hesitating more than usual," Blanchette murmured through her grin. "You know exactly what needs to be done, so why not just do it and save the day~?"

Oizys didn’t reply. Her gaze didn’t even touch Blanchette.

Blanchette tilted her head lazily. "So go on then. Dive into the nightmare."

Oizys turned her head with slow precision, her gaze locking with Blanchette’s.

Her voice came like glacial steel sheared against bone.

"Keep the Karasu Association alive. If you fail even one—just one—and I will make what happened to you thousands of years ago look like a warm-up."

Blanchette blinked once, then gave an exaggerated shrug, pushing off the wall with comical grace. "So dramatic. But sure. Consider me your humble escort for the day~"

Oizys no longer acknowledged her. She stepped onto the temple’s upper causeway and planted one foot forward, pressing it into the earth.

Her whole body bent low for a split-second, then snapped into a full sprint.

Her limbs blurred into streaks against the air, velocity compounding as she dashed across the battlefield. Trees bent in her wake. Stone shattered beneath her steps. Divine constructs shifted to give her path.

In seconds, she launched herself toward the epicenter where Samael was clashing directly with Kivas’ transformed form, their duel radiating bursts of heatless ruin.

Overhead, the sky began to shift.

The Apotheosized Kivas raised both arms, and reality itself split along the clouds.

Dozens of shapes formed in the firmament—smooth, narrow, metallic forms that hung in symmetrical clusters.

They gleamed with a manufactured precision unnatural to most of Fathomi. Each bore sleek fuselage structures, tri-fin tails, and engraved inscriptions of ancient force woven into their shells.

The light around them bent, and a low pulse of soul-quaking pressure began to throb through the battlefield.

Samael glanced upward. Her pupils narrowed. Recognition struck.

"They’re mimicking hydrogen warheads," Samael murmured. She might look calm from the outside both facial features and tone, but she was worried beyond belief on the inside. "That visit to Kivas’ past on Earth sure helped me a lot at identifying these threats."

Oizys landed beside her a breath later, her eyes already trained on the sky. Her tone remained firm.

"Don’t waste your energy. I’ll take care of the payload." Oizys grinned. "You’ll have a far more important role to do, so preserve your energy as efficiently as possible."

Samael shifted, reading the intention behind her words instantly. She stepped back a half-pace before her attention returned to the monster before them.

From the ruptured terrain, dozens of limbs erupted—dark, gleaming, and wrapped in bark-flesh and chitin.

Tentacles formed of liquified distortion and bone-laced skin stretched toward the incoming warheads. They coiled around the projectiles like snakes snapping through silk.

The instant the bombs reached their descent, the tentacles twisted and created a cup-like structure to contain payloads.

"Samael," Oizys said with a snicker. "Have you ever seen fireworks before?"

"I saw some good ones in my lifetime," Samael answered, her face softened.

A moment later, Vaingall shuddered.

Explosions bloomed upward, redirected toward the sky. Spirals of annihilation flared above the canopy like flowers of radiant destruction, blooming silently but painting the heavens in waves of color and rupture.

The shockwave trembled beneath their feet but never touched them.

Samael blinked, then looked at Oizys, whose gaze remained locked forward.

"It took quite a while for you to arrive," Samael said, voice calm again. "At least you’re not clueless."

"I had to adapt fast," Oizys replied. "Now listen. I have a way to stop the Apotheosis."

Samael’s gaze narrowed. "Are you sure?"

Oizys could tell that beyond the calm gesture and expression, Samael was worried sick..

Oizys knew well that this Samael was probably the same one who failed to save her in her timeline, before returning back and aligning with the current Kivas’ journey.

Samael who had felt what failure was, and the feeling of not being able to protect the one she deemed important more important than anything in her life.

Oizys knew that, because now she felt the same way with the Kivas of this timeline.

"I am." Oizys nodded with determination. "I’m going in. You keep her here, in Vaingall. Distract her, keep the others safe." Oizys motioned toward the battlefield where Sarkha’una and Uhr’tarukh had already converged.

The Lust Tier Divine Construct joined them, flanking with their arm-wings fully extended.

Samael said nothing at first. Then she stepped forward and gave Oizys a single, brief nod.

"We’ll hold her then." Samael smiled. "Take all the time you need."

"I’ll take days then."

"Not that long."

Samael sighed, maintaining her expressed joviality. "This will be a mess to be sorted when the Karasu Association asks for an explanation."

"What the worst thing could happen?" Oizys said as she prepared herself. "They might question our integrity as a partnering faction, but they won’t just leave us in the ditch with your information gathering prowess."

"I guess that is true."

Oizys couldn’t help but chuckle.

Oizys then inhaled slowly. The next moment, her arm extended toward the twisted sky above Kivas.

Her fingers spread as if grasping threads of space itself.

She reached for the resonance of miracles—the very signature of divinity Kivas had laid across the land of Vaingall, the mark of her godhood etched into the soil and air.

For a breath, nothing happened.

Then light pierced her vision, cascading across her irises in lines of golden language.

Her eyes burned as the script flooded through her perception, flooding her nerves with divine feedback. But she didn’t flinch. Her soul bent to the power, inviting it in. The same divine miracle that once anchored Kivas to the land now ran through Oizys like a river set aflame.

Her veins glowed. Her thoughts sharpened. Her spirit screamed into clarity.

Above Kivas’ monstrous form, threads unraveled—long cords of light dipped in shifting ink, snaking upward into a space that flickered like a film reel torn open mid-frame.

The Fateline revealed itself.

Oizys adjusted her stance, rotating her shoulder once to absorb the pressure. The moment she made sense of the thread’s trajectory, her entire body ignited with that same divine power.

Her frame shimmered like a star had been folded inside her bones.

She kicked off from the soil.

The earth dented under the force. She launched like a javelin of shadow and sanctity combined, shooting toward the tangled horizon where the Fateline spiraled open.

As she approached, the air became thick. Gravity flexed. Sound died. Vision fractured into layers of possibility.

The Fateline stretched. It fractured into a wave pattern, jagged and stuttering. The portal cracked across the sky—like the gods themselves had sliced the world’s filmstrip and played it backward.

Oizys didn’t hesitate.

She entered the tear like a bird slipping into a slight gap of a lazily opened window.

Like water flowing into a pipe, Oizys let herself be brought by the flow to where the current was going. She spun and slipped through the funnel and spiral of space into an exotic realm.

Before Oizys knew it, she entered a world filled with all sort of unfounded concepts, some of them were so foreign that it was utterly incomprehensible.

Eventually, everything fell into place and a scenery was generated.

There, Oizys landed on the surface of a large body of water. Yet, her feet didn’t plunge into the depth, but rocked on the surface like a boat.

In front of her, a small boat entered into view—alongside a cloaked figure rowing it.

Under the hood, a familiar gold glint and two-toned silvery and yellow could be sighted.

"Foreigner, bite back your spleen," the menacing figure knitted her words. "Thrice to thine and thrice to mine."