Meanwhile, Sucuria, Julia and Druscilla, all stood on their knees, their slender figures busted by injuries as they stared at Akamana. Elektra and co. stood a step behind, and though she too had gotten a dose of Mithras' Perfect Juice, she had to admit that the current Akamana stood in a league of her own. Unmatched by any but the likes of Hadubrangr and Aurelian.
Three Queens of the Blood, defeated without breaking a sweat. Granted Sucuria had not yet summoned her Abominations, the combination of three queens shouldn't have produced such catastrophic results. Yet as they knelt at Akamana's feet, the three had to acknowledge...that all their abilities combined were no match for the Grand Priestess.
"Girls... oopsie," Sucuria said, dark flames filling her eyes as astronomical levels of divine power erupted from her form. The Twins' eyes stretched wide, their cheeks paling as a dark crystal spire emerged from Sucuria's chest, now hovering in her palm.
Even Akamana lost her composure, and without hesitation, she snapped her fingers, altering space and isolating her crew from Sucuria's clutches.
"As if your little Dimensional Seal could stop Ahriman's Heart of Malice. Akamana, you know better," Sucuria sneered, and tapped the crystal spire, firing a blast of concentrated darkness that ripped through the isolated dimension and forced Akamana to take a step back.
"How did you get your hands on that thing?" Recognizing Ahriman's legendary artifact—the true Heart of Maice—Akamana's eyes narrowed, and she gnawed her teeth, cursing herself for failing to see through Sucuria and Ahriman's connections.
<Heart of Malice (tyrant class): Born from Ahriman's Malignant Divinity, the Heart of Malice emits an aura of psychotic divine power that amplifies feelings of anger and hostility in all those nearby. This aura can provoke conflicts and turn allies into enemies, making it a powerful tool for undermining the unity of opposing forces>
<Warning: The Heart of Malice cannot distinguish between friends and foes, attacking all with the same intensity>
Alas, this wasn't even the complete list of the pesky artifact's abilities. And while all others went livid, Sucuria's face brightened.
But as she was about to tap the heart again...
'Knock! Knock! The Reaper's here. Bliss or eternal rest? I will see after death and laugh regardless...for I have lived life a fair and honest fiend.' A deep male voice boomed in Sucuria's mind, wiping her smile outright.
"Ca...ligula? How?!" Recognizing the voice, the Blood Marquess went livid, her smile twisting into a scowl as her limbs trembled.
The translucent figure of a young Fylkir with short dark hair topped by a laurel wreath materialized behind Sucuria.
[With Ahriman's blessing, Caligula's remnant is fusing with the Heart of Malice to return to life...as an Antigod!]
In another location, the System's voice boomed in Mithras' mind. Akamana and co. couldn't hear it. All powerless to stop...Caligula's Apotheosis.
"Julia, Druscilla...you've betrayed my love and trust. As your big brother...I loathe the thought of ripping out your entrails. But I can't make an exception...for I am the Emperor.
So wash your dainty necks and wait for me. Big brother will drain your souls to death...after devouring his failed project to the last piece of noble trash.
Sucuria...GIVE ME YOUR LIFE!" Caligula bared his fangs, a vertical divine wheel forming at his back as he lunged at Sucuria!
---
As this played out, in a foreign plane of existence, the Weaver laid on lilac clouds, his impossibly long limbs and herculean muscles shining with a gray luster that gave his bald head that glossy gleam.
"The criminal mind of a juvenile trapped in a child life...is a thing of beauty. Oh, Lord. Why am I so addicted to the tears of young thugs? Is it the knowledge that they dream of my guts for dinner? Or the thirst to pluck their wings and watch them flounder through the struggles I devise?
Ahh...hahaha—oops." The Weaver restrained his outburst, sitting cross-legged as he surveyed the ongoing battles. From Ba'al Agan leading his legion into the collapsing Red Cloud Paradise to Mithras' gang facing the Blood Aristocracy, the Weaver watched it all, guiding twists and shifts.
"Lord...we're basically co-workers. I've chased your shadow for seven septillions. Yet couldn't get you to acknowledge my efforts. Ba'al Agan became the First Devotee. Vritra, the most favored. Wrathful Gods and Idols received your guidance.
The Sun got your attention. And I...was left with nothing.
I never needed the Sun to brighten my world. Your light was always enough. But my darkness was too repulsive...for you to treat my hard work...with anything but contempt.
But it's fine. I feel no pain...because at the end of it all, the smile you've denied me for a lifetime...will be mine forever. And then some."