The moment Marcus started drinking Mithras' blood, the Nerva King felt as if he'd nosedived into a volcanic eruption, sinking in a boiling ocean. The Weaver's pale-gray flames flashed in Marcus' eyes, supporting his flesh and soul as he attempted the legendary feat of consuming the Sun!
But here, Marcus connected to Mithras' soul, and his mind went reeling—overwhelmed and devoured by Mithras' memories! Marcus reformed in the Memory Hall of Mithras' Soul World, watching a projection of a tall and imposing youth standing by the edge of a mountain peak, with a flock of Sun-Kissed Birds flying around his neck.
Mithras—or so it seemed, at least. But though the youth looked like a golden-haired version of Mithras, as he looked at his gold and scarlet eyes, Marcus couldn't help...but shiver from top to bottom.
Wrong. There was something horribly wrong hiding behind those dazzling eyes. Just waiting for an opportunity, an excuse, to erupt and overturn creation.
"Gramps? You got the memo?" The Sun asked, and in a puff of gray smoke, a black-robed old man appeared—silently dropping at the Sun's left.
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"Alas! And I'm just as pissed as you. This is absurd and irrational. Our Will has lost its damn mind," the Weaver replied, nibbling his lips as he wondered why the guru of all Fundamental Principles expected him to become the Devil.
"It was always a bit on the mad side, but this one is gold. Drop my wife, slay my family, and marry the Lord? What's next? Why not ask me to repopulate the next universe with the Lord while we're at it?"
"Crass. Please don't give me nightmares. Ba'al Agan could cut you down and me by association."
"Drama Queen. Ba'al Agan is good...but not on your level."
"True. So what's the plan, sun boy? You're obviously not abandoning your darling Vritra—much less wiping out your mischievous siblings. So, how are you going to deal with this?"
"Dunno. And here I was thinking it was time for me to take a vacation. The timing couldn't be worse."
"Vacation? You mean..."
"Yes...if you agree, of course. I wouldn't intrude on your turf."
The Wrathful Gods, the Astral Paradise, and who knows what else. The Sun was too good at creation. Why are there two members of the Triumvirate so good at creation?
Unless the Sun...doesn't count as a member of the Triumvirate?"
As he pondered that question, Marcus had the intimate conviction that the answer would uncover the final and greatest mystery of Mithras' existence. A mystery that would have impacted his life in cruel and unprecedented ways...if he'd not just turned into the Nerva King's dinner.
"You think you can afford to be dwelling on that now?
Marcus, you're dying." But as Marcus' thoughts wandered, the Weaver looked over his shoulder, nailing Marcus with a disturbing stare.
"W-what?" Flummoxed by this breach of the fourth wall, Marcus backpedaled. The memories collapsed around him. Marcus returning to the Temple of Meditations where Mithras' Essence of Perfection threatened to reduce him to ashes!
"Persist." The Weaver's voice boomed in Marcus' mind, followed by a rush of transcendent energies that suppressed the destructive power of Mithras' blood.
With the Master of Creation to back him up, Marcus drank at will, letting Mithras' perfected blood transform his body and enhance his abilities!
'The Weaver...be praised!' Marcus kept this thought to himself—unaware of the little spark flickering in Mithras' eyes.
Meanwhile, on the Muk'Bal field, Mithras' crew had lost its shine. Shaken by his disappearance. Initially, Ishtar didn't share the others' fears. But as time went by, the dragoness' poise made way for grimaces.
"My brother...is in danger," Ishtar said in a grim and somber tone. And though the gang couldn't tell where she got the information from, none doubted her.
"I can probably use the Sixth Secret to connect our plane to Marcus' palace. The problem is..." Vel started. Her words trailing as her eyes narrowed at the newcomers lining up by the stadium seats. The gang followed her look, watching a cohort of pale-gray gargoyles arise from the seats, all surrounded by the Winds of Destiny.
A colossal armored knight led the Destiny Beasts, their dark-gray eyes rippling with unmistakable divine power!
"I'm just not sure they will give us a chance to act." Vel came to a most reasonable conclusion. And as if to validate her words, the Fate God stepped forward, leading a cohort of 300 Destiny Beasts at Mithras' crew!