CHAPTER 368: VISIONS OF CARNAGE! I

The transformation had settled into his being like a second skin, and Achilles found himself marveling at the strange duality of his existence.

Here, in the infinite expanse of space, his Primordial Avatar floated with the gravitational presence of a genuine star- yet the connection to his main body remained so complete, so seamless, that the distinction felt almost meaningless after the most recent transformation.

It was not a projection or a shadow of himself, but rather another facet of the same jewel, equally real, equally...him!

The realization brought a profound sense of wholeness that he had never experienced before.

This was what it meant to be an Adrastia Emperor King- to exist beyond the limitations that bound lesser beings, to command presence across multiple...areas of reality simultaneously!

"Hoo..."

He drifted further from the disguised meteor that held his family, his body a beacon of contained starlight that drew spatial matter into its inexorable pull.

Space itself seemed to bend around him, particles of stellar dust creating elegant spirals as they were caught in his gravitational field.

The beauty of it was hypnotic- he had become a force of nature, a living celestial body!

Ahead, a sphere of plasma beckoned.

It was not a true star, but instead a massive ball of superheated gas that pulsed with its own internal rhythms.

As he approached, waves of heat washed over his transformed physiology, temperatures that would have reduced his former self to ash now registering as nothing more than a gentle warmth against his stellar skin.

This was why space was home to his lineage!

Here, among the stellar fires and gravitational maelstroms, he could reach out toward wonders that would destroy lesser beings and whisper the word that had become as natural as breathing...

"Assimilate."

HUUM!

The sphere responded as if it had been waiting eons for his command.

Its plasma began to flow toward him in streams of brilliant orange and red, drawn by forces that transcended mere gravity.

The sensation was intoxicating- raw stellar matter pouring into his being, adding its essence to the growing constellation of power that defined his existence.

It was euphoric!

Assimilating things to his existence...had never before felt so good as at this moment, it nearly felt addicting!

He could feel his assimilations responding, growing stronger.

Space-Time pulsed with increasing potency, while his Starlight Core drank deeply of the plasma’s radiance. Even the Nirvana of the Sun and Moon seemed to sing with renewed vigor as it absorbed energies that echoed its own celestial nature.

As the last wisps of plasma integrated into his being, Achilles allowed himself a moment of profound reflection...well, and to also try to lose the euphoric sensation.

Weeks ago, he had been nothing more than a young man struggling to understand the strange dreams that haunted his sleep of Evolutius Beasts- the dreams that affected many in Colony Cities.

Now, he floated in the void between stars, consuming celestial bodies as if they were mere food at a feast.

The transformation was staggering, humbling, and yet it filled him with a sense of purpose that burned brighter than any sun.

He continued to move wistfully.

Somewhere in the distance, a moon called to him- another source of matter and energy to add to his growing reserves. But first, there were answers he needed.

The purple light of Continuum Vision began to coalesce around his form, responding to his will with the eager compliance of a loyal hound.

But rather than peer into the uncertain weavings of future possibility, he turned his enhanced perception toward the past.

Sometimes, understanding what lay ahead required first comprehending what had come before.

"Let me see...the past of King Edmond," he commanded, his voice carrying across the void with the authority of stellar winds. "Two months ago!"

HUUM!

The transition was seamless, reality blurring around him as his consciousness rode the river of time backward.

Purple radiance wrapped him like a cocoon as the present faded, replaced by the inexorable flow of moments that had already crystallized into history.

When the vision stabilized, what Achilles saw horrid coldness!

---

A hall stretched before him, vast and opulent, its walls carved from what appeared to be polished obsidian that reflected light in patterns too complex for simple eyes to follow.

At its center stood a table- no, an altar, of pure gold that gleamed with an inner radiance that spoke of craftsmanship beyond imagination.

But it was what covered that golden surface that transformed beauty into horror.

Blood. Layers upon layers of dried crimson that had soaked so deeply into the metal that it seemed to pulse with its own malevolent life.

The musings of countless atrocities, a testament to suffering that had been elevated to ritual, to art, to the casual consumption of terror.

Five thrones surrounded this abomination, each one occupied by a figure that wore the appearance of divine beauty like a mask over something fundamentally wrong.

They appeared human at first glance- tall, elegant, possessed of the kind of ethereal attractiveness that belonged in paintings of classical wonders!

But their eyes... their eyes were hollow things, windows into souls that had been scraped clean of everything that might once have been called mercy or kindness!

King Edmond sat upon his throne with the lazy confidence of a predator at rest, his ocean-blue hair cascading over shoulders draped in robes of living script.

His crown- simple, almost modest- rested above his brow like an afterthought, as if the weight of kingship was something he bore with deliberate casualness.

To his right sat a woman whose beauty was so perfect it became grotesque. Her skin was porcelain-pale, unmarked by time or wear, while her hair fell in waves of silver that seemed to move with its own currents.

A crown of what looked like crystallized tears hovered above her head, each facet catching the light and throwing it back in patterns that hurt to perceive directly.

When she smiled, which she did often, her lips revealed teeth that were just slightly too sharp, too numerous.

Across from her, another woman commanded attention through sheer physical presence!

Where the first was ethereal, this one was earthy- bronze skin that gleamed like polished metal, dark hair braided with what might have been bone ornaments, and eyes that held the patient hunger of a volcano.

Her crown was dark iron, simple and brutal, studded with gems that looked suspiciously like crystallized blood.

The remaining two men completed this council of nightmares. One was slender to the point of gauntness, his pale skin stretched tight over sharp bones, while his crown- a delicate thing of woven gold and shadow, seemed to shift and flow even as Achilles watched.

The other was built like a siege engine made flesh, broad shoulders and thick arms barely contained by robes that seemed to strain against his bulk.

His crown was a simple band of black metal that absorbed light rather than reflecting it.

But it was not the kings themselves that made Achilles’ transformed heart clench with rage. It was what lay bound upon that blood-soaked altar between them.

Living beings. Dozens of them, strapped down with chains that glowed with their own malevolent energy.

Humans, mostly- men and women with fair skin marked by terror, their eyes wide with the kind of horror that comes from understanding exactly what fate awaits.

But there were others too- beings with skin like polished sapphire who wept tears of liquid starlight, their elongated limbs writhing against bonds that cut deep enough to weep luminescent blood.

Among them lay creatures Achilles had never seen before- one with skin that shifted between colors like oil on water, its multiple eyes blinking in patterns that might have been attempts at communication, and another whose crystalline flesh rang like distant chimes with each terrified breath.

Alien lifeforms!

Most were conscious, their pleas filling the air with a symphony of desperation that the five kings ignored as completely as they might background music.

Some had mercifully succumbed to unconsciousness, though even in that state their faces bore expressions of lingering terror.

The bronze-skinned woman, the one with the iron crown, opened her mouth to speak, but what emerged was not words.

Instead, a tentacle uncoiled from the impossible depths of her throat, glistening with saliva and studded with teeth like broken glass.

With casual deliberation, she leaned forward and tore a chunk of flesh from a bound human’s thigh, the wet sound of tearing meat and splintering bone filling the hall.

The victim’s scream was a raw thing that seemed to claw at the very air, but the woman simply retracted her appendage and chewed with an expression of thoughtful contentment!

Blood ran down her chin like wine as she swallowed, her eyes never leaving her companions.

"Some humans," she said, her voice honey-sweet despite the horror of what she had just done, "simply have an exquisite taste. The fear seasoning is particularly well-developed in this batch."

She paused to delicately lick blood from her lips. "But let us get to business, shall we? The time is coming for us to pay our Tribute to the Sovereign Void Imperium, and we do not have enough funds. I love being laid back and feasting just like you all, but we need to get moving to ensure we have what they require."

The Sovereign Void Imperium!