Shadows Of Deception

Blackstone Inside the Prison Walls

The dimly lit prison reeked of damp stone and despair. Shackled prisoners lined the cold, crumbling walls, their faces pale and sunken from years of hopelessness. The sound of rattling chains echoed through the narrow corridors. Among them sat a silent figure, cloaked in shadows, his face hidden beneath strands of jet-black hair. His crimson eyes glimmered faintly in the flickering torchlight.

A faint smile crept across his lips as he muttered, "The prophecy is real… he's here. My brother is alive." His deep, resonant voice carried an authority that silenced the murmurs around him.

The man rose from his seated position with a deliberate slowness, his towering frame radiating an ominous power. He stepped forward, placing a calloused palm on the cold iron bars of his cell. A faint hum vibrated through the air, and with a low, thunderous crack, the bars disintegrated into shards, scattering across the floor.

Gasps erupted among the prisoners. One, trembling, managed to stammer, "He's never spoken before… All this time, he was waiting?"

The figure turned to them, his smile widening into something almost sinister yet strangely comforting. "You're free now," he said simply, his voice unwavering.

A prisoner, emboldened by curiosity, asked, "You waited all this time… why?"

Without hesitation, he replied, "Because my brother is alive."

He stepped into the corridor, his aura suffocating yet electrifying. The name Mengi passed through the lips of a few prisoners as they watched him walk away, his presence both terrifying and awe-inspiring.

In the smoldering remains of Blackstone, Shenlog descended gracefully to the charred earth. The air was thick with ash and heat, the ground beneath his feet cracked and glowing faintly with embers. The aftermath of his Dragon Flame Second State: Deity Burn was evident—there was no trace of Nicklaus, no remnants of the tendrils that once dominated the battlefield.

Shenlog dismissed his dragon with a low hum, its massive form dissipating into golden embers that floated away in the wind. He turned to Jingwei, who was still recovering in the healing orb, and knelt beside him. Jingwei's eyes fluttered open, a weak smile breaking across his face. "Father… you did it."

Shenlog placed a firm hand on his son's shoulder, his expression both stern and proud. "Of course," he said, his deep voice carrying a weight of finality. "I am the commander of the Free World."

Far away, Seiji stood before the colossal metal doors of the factory. He pushed them open with ease, the screech of grinding metal echoing through the cavernous interior. The room was dark, save for a single pedestal bathed in an eerie, flickering light.

Upon the pedestal sat Weapon X—a tiny, unassuming machine that seemed to pulsate with life. Its core emitted a black flame, the flickering fire casting strange, distorted shadows on the walls. Seiji's golden markings glowed faintly as he approached, his eyes narrowing with intrigue.

"So this… is Weapon X," he muttered. His voice, usually lighthearted, was now tinged with seriousness. He reached out a hand but hesitated, sensing the immense energy radiating from the artifact.

The scene shifted to the outskirts of Blackstone, where the sky had darkened ominously. Rain began to fall, the droplets hissing as they struck the scorched ground. Thunder cracked through the heavens, each strike illuminating the ruins of the city in brief flashes of blinding light.

Amid the chaos, the Demon—fully manifest in Jin's body—landed on a fractured surface. His dark form emitted an oppressive energy, the ground around him cracking and wilting under his presence. He tilted his head upward, his glowing eyes piercing the rain-soaked sky.

Without warning, a bolt of lightning struck the earth nearby, and water began to pool and rise unnaturally. Streams of liquid twisted and coiled like serpents, merging into a towering column. From within the water, a figure emerged, stepping forward with regal authority. Nereus, the Ocean God, one of the Shadow Council's most formidable members, had arrived.

His presence was overwhelming, his aura suffocating as waves of energy radiated outward. Nereus surveyed the scene with cold, calculating eyes. "The source… it's here," he said, his deep voice echoing like a tidal wave. "We've allowed you to grow long enough. It's time we harvest you… for the Resurrection."

The Demon smirked, his voice dripping with disdain. "The Resurrection? You little bastard… you still cling to that pathetic dream. How many times have you failed now?"

Nereus's expression remained calm, though his tone sharpened. "We fail for perfection, and time is on our side. Surrender yourself now, and perhaps we'll spare the boy you infest."

The Demon tilted his head, a mocking laugh escaping his lips. "You speak as if you're on par with me. Among the seven of you, only one might be my equal, and it's not you."

Nereus's eyes narrowed. "The ancient times are over. We have transcended into demi-godhood. This power… is beyond your comprehension."

The Demon's grin widened, his voice laced with malevolence. "And yet, here you are, trembling before me. Your little council of seven isn't as secretive as you think. . I know everything about your pathetic little schemes."

The tension between them was palpable, the clash of their energies creating shockwaves that rippled through the air. The rain intensified, the ground trembling as their powers collided.