Atachi One

The drums echoed with an almost supernatural intensity, filling the air with a vibrating tension. The capital of the kingdom of Megerya was in turmoil, gripped by a collective feverishness. The long-awaited return of the heroes had sparked an unprecedented fervor. The rumors, carried by hurried whispers from mouth to mouth, could be summed up in one unique and triumphant proclamation: the tomb of the Black Dragon had been purified, and those who had conquered the Tartarus dungeon had returned. These heroes, the Fernanders, were destined to unify the continent under a common banner.

The massive city gates, venerable guardians of centuries past, were preparing to welcome those who had achieved the unthinkable. Inhabitants from across the kingdom had converged upon the capital, forming a human tide carrying the sentiment of a new era rapidly approaching. For the people of Megerya, they were the ones who would save this world. A vast line stretched, snaking from the outskirts to the majestic royal palace, where the king of Megerya resided.

Suddenly, the ground began to tremble, a low rumble spreading through the crowd. The terrifying intensity of the tremors caused widespread panic. Yet a strange, invisible force seemed to support the inhabitants, preventing them from falling. A dense mist, thicker than ever, gradually engulfed the surroundings. Spectral silhouettes began to emerge from this gray veil, imposing silence and apprehension.

With each step they took, the impacts grew more violent, as if the entire world were holding its breath. Above their insignificant existences, a massive, inert yet terrifyingly present head emerged from the mist. The knights stationed at the gates, jaws clenched and weapons drawn, instinctively assumed combat stances.

In an instant, the mist dissipated in a burst of solid air, rushing through every street and shattering the heavy doors of the royal palace. And there, before a petrified crowd, appeared an enormous black dragon, its scales gleaming as if they harbored all the sorrows of humanity.

Chained by a collar that evoked the shackles of slaves, the creature was a living paradox of restrained power. With a simple snap of his fingers, one of the heroes silenced the tremors, leaving the crowd suspended, mesmerized by the impossible scene before them.

The heroes, a group of 13, greeted their people in a solemn procession. Each carried a distinct aura, their unique traits unmistakable. Some smiled with pride, others tossed gold to the jubilant crowd. Still, others walked with a chilling indifference.

Trailing behind them was a man whose stature and confidence set him apart. On his shoulder rested a legion of malevolent entities he had captured, like grim war trophies. This was Jayden, the man summoned by Megerya, the most powerful hero this world had ever known.

People: "Bravo to you! Long live the Fernanders! Glory to the heroes!"

However, a problem quickly arose: the narrow path leading to the palace was insufficient to accommodate the captured creatures. Jayden, unfazed, raised a hand, and with a fluid gesture, altered space and reality itself, widening the path so that his conquests could advance. The crowd erupted into cheers of admiration, and fireworks burst into the sky, illuminating the capital.

In front of the palace, the king's army bowed in perfect synchronization. The Fernanders were revered as the mythical figures they had become. One of them, a colossus of superhuman size clad in armor of a mysterious alloy, addressed the knights in a deep voice.

"I would ask you to keep an eye on these beasts. They are sealed, but nothing is certain. We leave them in your hands."

A war marshal, kneeling, nodded solemnly.

"Do not worry, Lord Phirium. We will handle the unloading. The king awaits you to discuss some rather troubling news. It seems the kingdom of Sinongara has sought the aid of an external people to prepare for a final war. The king will share all the details of this unforeseen development."

Nemilia, an enigmatic sorceress, caused the air to quiver with a fraction of her magical aura. She responded with a tone of provocation.

"Whatever they're planning, it doesn't matter. We are the most powerful beings in the history of this world, and with Jayden by our side, no threat could ever shake our might. They are not enemies, Marshal; they are merely targets waiting for capitulation."

Jayden then stepped forward, exuding absolute confidence.

"No matter how strong the enemy may be, I need only an instant to surpass them and put an end to their so-called authority. No god, no mortal, no miracle-worker can defeat me."

Jayden's words, heavy with defiance, seemed to distort the air itself. He was the only one aware of a faint, invisible silhouette beside his ears. Yet as he spoke, a foreign voice, calm and icy, pierced the space like an invisible shiver.

"Wait for me, hero of Megerya. You stand at the summit, yes, but this is merely the prelude to the most dizzying of falls. You are nothing but a toy in the weary hands of gods, the echo of divine power corrupted by their infinite boredom."

Jayden, stunned by this intrusion, tried to pinpoint the source of the provocation. His eyes, capable of probing dimensions and discerning the hidden essence of things, scanned the kingdom. Searching across dimensions, he found nothing—a failure that tormented him to his core. He questioned himself inwardly. He placed his foot gently on the ground, emitting a wave of energy that swept across the entire world, freezing time itself.

He stood still and, in a whisper laced with determination, commanded:

"Environmental system, locate this entity. Now!"

A spectral veil enveloped the world, analyzing every fiber of reality. But the results came back desperately empty. The voice rang out again, dripping with sarcasm.

"Your eyes perceive only a woefully narrow spectrum of reality. Learn to look beyond the tip of your nose, summoned hero."

Jayden then felt an unbearable presence on his right. Without hesitation, he launched a lightning-fast punch at the invisible source of the mockery. But just as his attack was about to obliterate the air, a portal formed, absorbing the impact. In a perfect counter, the force of his own punch was returned to him through a second portal that appeared at his chin.

The shockwave threw the hero to the ground. His fall shattered the delicate scaffolding of time he had mastered, causing reality itself to crack. Dimensions fractured like a cosmic mirror. And as he fell, the universe regained its linearity with a disorienting tremor.

Jayden's companions, witnesses to this impossible event, stood frozen. For the first time, they saw their leader—invincible and unshakable—on the ground. The scene defied all logic. An overwhelming stupor enveloped them, and a heavy silence lingered, casting the shadow of a threat beyond anything they had ever faced. They remained utterly incapable of aiding the one who was deemed undefeated.

In the deepest, darkest recesses of the continent, a gathering of unfathomable gravity took place within a labyrinthine network of underground chambers. These spaces were completely severed from their original world. The demonic architecture of this place was not merely imposing—it exuded an aura of ancient malevolence.

All around, priests and devotees of the Cult of the Divine Calamity bustled about, clad in robes as black as ink and adorned with the enigmatic emblem of their sect. This symbol, both mesmerizing and terrifying, seemed to pulse with a life of its own.

An artificial sky, composed of darkness and chaotic motion, loomed over the underground city. It teemed with wandering souls, tormented spirits, and malevolent entities trapped in eternal turmoil. The living, breathing nature of the place whispered promises of impending destruction.

In a central hall, vast and oppressive, the cult's higher authorities convened, their voices heavy with conspiracies.

Figure 1 - "The Great Terror is ready to ravage this world as our commander has commanded. But we've encountered a serious setback. Our spies report that those cursed Terranians are planning to seize this world to fuel their ambition: the creation of Acrimeus."

Figure 2 - "These Terranians... They are the result of the White Seeker's experiments. Although he isn't the most powerful of his kind, his influence is formidable. Even lower-ranking apostles unite against him to secure a resource that even the divine itself cannot create."

Figure 3 - "We should certainly intervene. The multiverse belongs to our god, and nothing and no one can stop him. The Terranians are preparing for a grand war so that the Sinongara kingdom can annihilate humanity. The geopolitical stakes of this world are quite intriguing."

Figure 2 - "We will monitor this world in its minutest details, particularly the hero Jayden. His existence is far from natural; it defies all logic."

Figure 4 - "Ydragia was supposed to be a primordial dragon, its legend recounting true supremacy over nature. Comparable to a Great Terror, the ease with which Jayden subdued and enslaved this entity is utterly unrealistic. Have you investigated where Jayden might originate from? Have the lines of the Ouroboros not yielded enough evidence to trace back to his former life?"

(Note: The lines of the Ouroboros are interconnected and interdependent paths where souls, having completed their experiences in the material world, are guided to their next life. There are various cases for these souls.)

(Case 1: Either they start a new life because "their karma has not been deemed" good enough to ascend to the higher realms.)

(Case 2: Or their karma has been deemed sufficiently good to ascend to the higher realms, and the soul reincarnates into a higher life form to achieve ever-greater enlightenment. The ultimate goal is to return to the primary essence, the All.)

Figure 1 - "Nothing. Absolutely nothing. Our research remains fruitless. There is no trace of his origin. But I swear to uncover the secret of his superiority. This aberrant power that defies our understanding will not remain a mystery."

Figure 3 - "We cannot afford failure this time. We narrowly escaped annihilation in the past, but our lord has forged an alliance with a cosmic entity, Destra. With this pact, we far surpass the Terranians. The time has come to orchestrate their extinction."

Figure 4 - "These Terranians are far more dangerous than the deities themselves. They manipulate reality, reshaping entire worlds as mere pawns of their experiments. Their quest for power and thirst to control the cosmos make them infinitely more formidable. But mere creations can only ever be undone by their creator."

The silhouettes stood upright, their gazes burning with fanaticism. A shiver ran through the assembly as a silence heavy with promises settled over them. A calamity of unparalleled magnitude was on the brink of being unleashed, and the world's future was about to spiral into chaos.

In the laboratory bathed in cold, clinical light, Titan advanced with relentless constancy. For two days, he had immersed himself in the first phase of his training, absorbing each concept with disconcerting ease. What had begun as a simple transmission of knowledge was gradually becoming a transformation. His reflections gained unexpected depth, and he now approached each idea with an innovative perspective, a vision that seemed to surpass even Aliya's. 

She watched him in silence, a mixture of admiration and bitterness vying for space in her mind. Aliya, once celebrated for her genius, now saw in Titan's meteoric rise a threat to her own brilliance. Every breakthrough of her creation reminded her of a cruel truth: her intelligence, which had forged so many marvels, now seemed to be turning against her. 

Atachi had reframed her argument, positioning his disciple as a creation in its own right. He had asked her to consider Titan as a machine that could be enhanced by honing its intellectual reflexes. His divine advantages gave him a clear edge in his progression, and soon he would naturally be able to converse as an equal with his teacher. 

For Aliya, her jealousy took shape as she observed the behavior and exponential evolution of her creation. A forgotten axiom resurfaced, immersing her in a desperate introspection. The question of the role and relationship between Creator and creation suddenly became much clearer. 

The relationship between Creator and creation is not a simple dynamic of control. If the creation surpasses its Creator, can it truly be seen as a threat? Take artificial intelligence as an example: a machine capable of evolving could surpass its designer, but must that automatically be perceived as a failure? Perhaps this evolution is a natural, even beneficial, step. A creation exceeding the Creator's expectations could be a sign of success, rather than failure. 

To address this issue, the Creator must ensure that their actions also allow them to improve themselves. If their ideas do not serve to enhance themselves or their species significantly, then the creation will inevitably adapt. Eventually, it will surpass its Creator to the point where negative externalities become the most unpredictable fruits of chance. 

A creation that ultimately outstrips its founder is the very epitome of self-destruction. The final question Aliya posed to herself was this: Should the Creator always guide their creation, or grant it a freedom that might lead it to surpass them? 

Her fingers mechanically grazed her course materials, an abyss of knowledge so vast and complex it seemed to defy understanding. Aliya, focused on her own research, tirelessly pored over the same document left by Atachi, her eyes dancing across the pages as if trying to unravel the mysteries of his theories. Titan interrupted her with a request: 

"I can't properly combine the disciplines you're teaching me. Could you do me a favor, please?" 

Aliya slowly lifted her head, pulled out of her immersion. Her eyes sparkled with intrigued curiosity. 

"What can I do for you, Titan? Are dimensionless fluid mechanics giving you trouble?" 

But Titan, inspired by newfound resolve, replied with vibrant determination: 

"I want to put my knowledge into practice. Not in equations or words. I want to see it in action, feel it in the heat of the moment. Use your second brain to amplify the future capabilities of your mech." 

Titan used his divine powers to create a dimension within the laboratory. The room became a vast expanse of dazzling white. A tender sense of comfort settled in Aliya's heart, as if she had been waiting for this moment to unleash her repressed genius. 

She rushed to her desk, her scientific curiosity aflame, and launched Pandora, her quantum artificial intelligence. 

"Pandora! Analyze this dimension! I want a full report on its structure and laws." 

Aliya continued her research, incorporating Atachi's documentation for Pandora to provide its insights into his hypotheses. 

Pandora, true to its programming, complied silently, but Titan, impatient, intervened. 

"Increase your qubits. Reduce your errors. Adapt and prepare to analyze what I'm about to show you. Then transfer the data to the mech so it acquires instinctive reflexes." 

Pandora responded coldly: 

"I do not take orders from a stranger. I exist to protect my creator, not to collaborate with an entity that could one day cause her downfall." 

Titan, his eyes sparkling with divine light, retorted with implacable confidence: 

"I am not your enemy, Pandora. But know this: if you refuse to collaborate, I won't hesitate to make you a distant memory in the history of this world." 

Ignoring the tension, Titan began to train. But not alone. In the immaculate void, he summoned an image of his master—attenuated but still formidable. Every movement was a lesson, every impact an affirmation of his will. Meanwhile, Aliya bombarded Pandora with simultaneous requests, exploiting every resource to extract useful data. 

Titan honed his fundamentals, integrating his knowledge into his neurons, amplifying action potentials to enhance his synapses. His body's feats caused an entirely unexpected phenomenon: the armor he wore could no longer withstand the intensity of his blows. He attempted to shift into his divine form. 

Suddenly, every fiber of his body seemed on the verge of breaking under the pressure. His body screamed for rest, but his mind forced him to continue. 

Aliya, mesmerized by the results, downloaded the data into the mech, sensing that something extraordinary was being born. But Titan struggled to maintain his divine form. His body writhed in agony, every muscle straining to its limit. 

Then, with a silent cry, the armor gave way. It disintegrated, its fragments dissolving into a fine golden dust that returned to the void. 

The world around him shrank, reduced to a dull throb in his temples and an all-consuming pain that screamed in every fiber of his being. His arms hung heavy like chains, unable to respond to the commands of his mind. Yet his spirit refused to yield. 

Each heartbeat felt like a hammer blow, brutal and unrelenting. He tried to rise, his fingers clawing desperately at the ground. But nothing responded. His muscles had ceased to obey, defeated by the unsustainable effort. 

His vision blurred, colors and shapes dancing in indistinct chaos. Yet he still lifted his gaze, searching for hope in the void. His jaw clenched, his teeth gritting in one final act of resistance. But even his mind began to falter, engulfed by a torrent of darkness. 

New neuronal connections, too intense, began to fail. The legacy of his father gave way to an insurmountable effort. His muscles burned like embers, bearing the marks of his imminent end. 

When he finally collapsed completely, his body hit the ground with a dull thud, almost insignificant, like a leaf carried by the wind. A final ragged breath escaped his lips, leaving behind the last trace of his struggle. 

The dimension abruptly dissipated, replaced by an oppressive silence, broken only by Aliya's heart-wrenching scream. She collapsed to her knees before Titan's broken body, her hands trembling with a powerlessness she had never known before. Her tears betrayed a panic she desperately tried to contain.

"Pandore! I beg you! Save this man..."

Pandore replied before she could finish speaking:

"That is impossible. His body is not operable; its durability is far too great. However, I believe I have found a solution to your problem. Do not revive him; this does not seem to align with the emperor's interests."

Aliya, stunned by her ally's willingness to let someone die before her, moved at full speed, activating the final phase of her mech project. Desperately trying to locate the box containing the singularity, an unforeseen event abruptly changed the course of things.

Suddenly, an icy chill enveloped the room. An overwhelming presence materialized in the shadows. An individual, shrouded in dark armor and concealed beneath a vast black veil, slowly emerged. His entrance seemed to draw in the very light itself, plunging the room into an almost supernatural darkness.

He stepped forward, the echo of his boots resonating like a judgment.

In a deep, almost hypnotic voice, he addressed Aliya:

"Aliya, the human whose intelligence transcends the limits of the divine, at last, we meet."

He continued in an amused tone:

"Now, you face a terrible dilemma. Either you pursue me, leaving this corpse to the grave it was destined for, or you stay here to save him, which will inevitably lead to the defeat of Sinongara's people in the war against the kingdom of Mégerya. You will become the catalyst for their downfall."

He concluded his ultimatum with a fateful and inescapable statement:

"This power must under no circumstances serve Baldur's executioner. So, scientist, what is your choice?"

This mysterious voice seemed to reveal the identity of someone Aliya knew very well.

"But... How can you still exist in this world? The entire kingdom announced your death. I even saw and recognized your corpse during the national mourning. How?"

The silence that followed was deafening. Aliya felt the weight of her words crush her heart. She was faced with a cruel dilemma, each option carrying catastrophic consequences. Her hands trembled as she looked at Titan, whose life was slipping away like sand through her fingers.

Recognizing the terrible identity of this man, her brilliant but human mind wavered under the atrocity of the decision. War, death, betrayal… all intertwined in an unbearable whirlwind.

But in her eyes, amid the fear and despair, a spark of defiance began to shine. She knew that a choice was inevitable, but how she would make it... that was entirely hers to decide.