Dark Divinity

The cold ground beneath him was softened by a thin layer of snow, which had begun to gently fall around him. The flakes settled softly on the ground, gradually covering Clay's mangled corpse a few meters away. The snowflakes fell softly, each particle adding a layer of white to the bleak sight, as the body became partially obscured by the new snowfall.

The sun began its sluggish ascent, casting lengthy shadows across the snow-covered terrain. The withering tree offered a somber background for Omen's watchful eyes. He waited calmly, his gaze fixated on the horizon and his thoughts focused on the uncertain future that lay ahead.

Omen sat in peaceful solitude beneath the withered tree while the day unfolded around him. Dawn passed by and he stayed motionless, firm in his determination to wait until the purging began. The afternoon's light faded into dusk, and the landscape gradually darkened as the sun dropped below the horizon. The cold was persistent, and the snow continued to fall, blanketing the environment in a thick, suffocating covering.

He heard someone approaching in the quiet of the night, taking precise and measured steps. The steps were steady and calculated, the rhythm of each footfall indicating a deliberate, controlled movement. Only one individual was able to walk like that.

Omen's voice pierced through the night air, calm and composed. "Are you here to kill me?" he inquired, his voice tinged with both intrigue and caution. He slowly shifted to face the familiar presence behind him, his attention fixed on the figure coming from the darkness.

Tame remained silent for a moment, his robotic eyes studying Omen with an almost human-like intensity. The cold, mechanical nature of the gynoid seemed momentarily softened by the depth of the gaze, creating a disconcerting blend of artificial and authentic.

"I know you do not trust me after what I did," Tame began, his voice steady but carrying a weight of solemnity that was strikingly realistic for an android. "But I was programmed to act according to my directives. I understand how my actions have affected you, and I need you to know that it was not out of personal malice."

The gynoid paused, the artificial skin stretched over his robotic frame taking on a more lifelike quality as he continued. "I finally understand why I was created. My unit was specifically designed for a universal war. My primary objective is to hunt down darklings, and since their exogene variations have long been imprinted in my systems, which was how I was able to locate you so effectively during the last purge."

The gravity of Tame's words hung heavily in the air. His gaze, once neutral, turned serious and focused as he looked down at Omen. "You see, Omen," he said, his voice now edged with cold precision, "I was made to hunt your kind."

Omen's eyes narrowed as he studied Tame's face, the mechanical features now bearing a strikingly human semblance of sincerity. A calm smile touched his lips, a gesture that held both a hint of irony and an acceptance of the situation.

"So, what is it going to be then?" Omen asked, his voice steady but laced with a touch of amusement. "I never considered you an ally. When will our fight occur?"

Tame's eyes, glowing with their cold blue light, met Omen's with a contemplative intensity. "I have no intention of battling you," he said calmly. "We are similar in that we both want to escape this place. I have a sibling out there who shares my code—Ava."

Omen's brow furrowed slightly at the sudden change in topic, but his curiosity was piqued. "Why are you telling me all this then?" he asked, his tone carrying a mix of scepticism and interest.

Tame's expression was unchanging, yet there was gravity to his next words. "As you once said, I am a robot, merely a programmed bunch of code. My life objective is to kill darklings. I may be able to control my impulses to some extent, but once someone alters my programming or inflicts extensive damage upon me, I will have no choice but to fulfil my directive and eliminate you. And one day, when you grow strong enough to kill me, I want you to know that even though I am a gynoid… I was once human."

Omen stood silently, the weight of Tame's words settling over him. He had been taken aback when Tame had lasered him after activating the beacon, but now the reason behind it was clear.

"Well then, I'll let Ava know once I'm free," Omen finally said, his voice steady but tinged with a resolve that belied the uncertainty he felt, "you stay out of my way, and I will stay out of yours. I am not just your regular darkling."

Tame nodded once, his robotic form casting a cold, calculated gaze over Omen. The gesture was both an acknowledgement and a tacit agreement to the uneasy truce that had been formed. Without another word, Tame turned and began to walk away, his steps measured and deliberate.

Omen watched Tame's retreating form, his breath visible in the frigid air as he exhaled a sigh of relief. The tension that had gripped him during their encounter began to dissipate, though the weight of the situation still lingered. Facing Tame had been a confrontation he knew he could not win, and he was thankful he had succeeded in avoiding a full-scale battle.

As Tame disappeared into the darkness of the night, Omen's thoughts turned to the other figures he had encountered. He wondered about Malek's fate. The red giant had shown unexpected heroism, stepping in to assist him despite the chaos. Omen recalled the giant's nonchalant and often violent demeanor, but he also recognized the underlying care and bravery that had driven Malek's actions. If Malek had survived, Omen felt a deep sense of gratitude and respect for the red giant's willingness to stand against overwhelming odds.

Omen's thoughts then shifted to Kiba, the red wolf. Kiba had proven to be a force to be reckoned with, a powerful entity capable of turning the tide in a confrontation. The display of power and the ruthless efficiency with which Kiba had dealt with Isaac made it clear that the red wolf was not to be underestimated.

As the first light of dawn broke across the horizon, Omen braced himself for the moment when teleportation would occur, as foretold by the overseer. With a sudden jolt, Omen's surroundings shifted. The familiar snow-covered ground of the bunker area vanished, replaced by a desolate, sun-scorched landscape Omen squinted, adapting to the harsh glare of the desert as he observed his new surroundings.

Before him lay a vast wasteland of black sand, a terrible expanse that appeared to spread in all directions. The sun beat down brutally, creating long, frightening shadows across the desolate landscape. The air was dry and cold, with only a whisper of a breeze stirring the sand. The landscape was devoid of life and movement, except for the odd wind of sand that swirled ominously about him. The sky above was a stark, unyielding blue, with no clouds or respite from the hot sun.

He carefully rose up, his limbs stiff from sitting for so long, and dusted off the snow that had adhered to his clothing. Omen took a long inhale, the hot, dry air stinging his lungs. He started to examine his predicament, noticing that the terrain provided no immediate cover or markers. The dark sand appeared to shift and ripple with the breeze, evoking an eerie sensation of isolation and dread.

Omen raised the sleeves of his garments to lessen the quantity of sweat he was likely to get soon, stomped his black boots on the plain sand, and smiled when he was ready. He began looking for a safe place to wait for the purge out. Soon the night came again on the next day…he had made no progress.

His far sight offered no solace in this barren expanse Even with his improved vision, the darkness of the desert concealed everything beyond a few metres. The black sand appeared to meld into the night, forming an impenetrable nothingness as far as he could see. There were no landmarks or points of reference; only an infinite, undulating sea of blackness and sand.

"What is this place?" Omen muttered to himself, his voice barely a whisper against the vast silence. The questions echoed in his mind, but there were no answers in sight.

Omen wasted no time any longer, setting his course southward through the vast desert. On the third day, Omen was still walking south, having not encountered a single being. He didn't mind the solace as long as he survived the next four days. However, luck was not on his side in any way.

The sun was extremely high, and he had yet to find shelter. He didn't need food or water, but the hot temperature was enough to drain his energy. The black sand under his feet felt like a scorching furnace. Then he felt his passive skill [vibration sense] tingling. Something was coming. He looked around the vast black desert but saw nothing... wait! Underground!

Omen's eyes narrowed in alarm as he scanned the ground, his senses heightened. The vibrations were getting stronger, and more erratic. Whatever was beneath the surface was closing in fast.

As soon as the thought came to his mind, the ground opened up as the earth gave way around him. He activated [instant dash] and shot himself forward just in time as a wide maw blasted out of the black desert, snapping its massive mouth into sparse air. Omen turned back to view the colossal beast.

The creature was massive. Just its upper body emerging from the sand was over ten meters high. Its skin was a thick black texture, like hardened obsidian, glinting ominously in the harsh sunlight. Its head had only one feature: no eyes, no ears, no nostrils, just one circular giant mouth filled with endless rows of swiftly rotating, sharp, seven-inch-long teeth.

Omen's heart pounded as he assessed the situation. The beast's mouth was a horrifying, grinding vortex, capable of pulverizing anything in its path. There was no hesitation in its movements, only a relentless hunger. The beast lunged at him again, its maw opening wider, the teeth spinning faster. Omen leaped to the side, rolling across the burning sand and coming up to his feet in one fluid motion. The wyrm's head crashed into the spot where he had just been standing, sending sand and debris flying in all directions.

He knew he couldn't rely solely on his speed to survive this encounter. The creature's relentless attacks and the unforgiving heat were a lethal combination. He needed a plan, and he needed it fast.

"Curse my luck!" Omen yelled in alarm as he took off. He knew when he was capable of winning a fight against an enemy, and unfortunately, this wasn't one of those times. Was his uncontrollable passive [beast summoning aura] active again?

Even though his [Instant Dash] had never been fully active to the level he was using now…not even on the last night before the purge during his battle with Clay, this was a different situation. And the worst part of it all, he was running away from the creature, not towards it.

As the giant wyrm dived back into the black sand and blasted through the surface, creating a massive tide of hot black sand, Omen began to wonder which of them had the [relentless] skill. The wyrm seemed tireless, its massive body moving through the sand with an unnerving ease.

Omen pushed himself harder, his legs burning, his breath coming in rapid gasps. The heat was oppressive, each breath feeling like he was inhaling fire. The black desert offered no respite, no shelter. He glanced over his shoulder, seeing the wyrm's dorsal fin slicing through the sand like a shark in the sea, closing in on him.