Khan was both mesmerized and terrified. The last piece of the puzzle that was his evolution had finally appeared before his eyes, and it looked far grander than anything he could have ever predicted.
Actually, that mere lump of pitch-black smoke looked so grand that Khan almost reconsidered his initial plan. He had purposely only left a tiny gap between his current state and the completion of his attunement with mana, but that precaution lost any meaning now.
That divine True Chaos wasnât something that could be limited. Strategies and specific arrangements were meaningless before the obscuring power that energy radiated. Nothing could ever stop it from taking over anything it touched.
Even with only that remaining tiny gap, Khan knew that absorbing the divine True Chaos would transform him beyond recognition. There wouldnât be anything of his old self left if he accepted that energy. He would become someone or something else.
The final transformation was bound to go beyond merely being tainted for a third time. The evolution often was like that, but Khanâs case promised to be revolutionary.
And yet, despite the reaffirmed level of danger and the unavoidable hesitation, Khanâs plan didnât change. Now more than ever, he knew that he needed something revolutionary to hope to defeat that superior being.
Khanâs idea of ripping off his arms and legs to break free resurfaced. Whether he could regrow those limbs or not didnât matter as long as he ate that obscuring blackness.
Everything else would be up to whether Khan could complete his transformation before and if the God decided to kill him. He would also be gambling on whether he would become something capable of facing that superior existence.
As for what Khan would actually become, he was far beyond caring. The situation was too desperate to worry about such trivial things.
Still, as always, the God acted before either Khan or the seemingly fatally wounded Emperor could react to him. The lump of ominous darkening light split into two parts, and one was already in front of Khanâs face.
The vicinity of that energy made Khan weak beyond reason, almost turning off his awareness when it touched his forehead. The glowing smoke instantly seeped inside him, and his glowing gaze witnessed the Emperor going through a similar process before something else claimed his attention.
Something was melting inside Khan. The sensation wasnât hot in the strict sense, but he felt himself burning nonetheless.
After enduring the quasarâs blast, Khan believed he had experienced the greatest possible pain in the universe. He wasnât technically wrong, but worse kinds of suffering that surpassed the physical realm existed.
One of those torturous processes unfolded inside Khan now. The half of that divine True Chaos that had invaded him tore his flesh and boiled his blood, but also made his mana scream.
That reaction from the chaos element didnât result from the usual annihilation. Something else was going on. A force Khan couldnât oppose was melting his mana, basically liquefying his very being.
And, sadly, Khan understood what was happening and why. The process wanted to reforge Khan into a different kind of being by fusing him with that shard of divinity. However, Khan himself had to melt first because he was nothing more than an alchemic material for the God.
Khanâs mana was powerless before that influence. The energy that had invaded him seemed to have complete authority over his element, as if it were a rightful mandate from a superior entity.
Nevertheless, Khan wasnât only mana. Even his element wasnât ordinary. After the initial blow, his existence fought back, albeit with limited success.
Khanâs cells hissed in anger, chanting a rightful authority of their own. They were weak, exhausted from the previous fight, but no amount of tiredness could deprive them of their birthright.
An ability Khan wasnât aware he wielded unfolded. His cellsâ hissing chant radiated a defensive aura against those who dared to claim authority over them, acting as a protective shield for his being.
Indignant anger invaded Khan, making him aware of the depths of that insulting attempt to take over him. He carried the genes of beings born to rule, of planetary overlords, a legacy even Gods had to respect.
That anger resonated with Khanâs element, empowering it, stirring it to resist the foreign divine influence with newfound reckless violence. Because true leaders knew that death was better than subservience, and Khan had earned that title in more ways than he could count.
The cellsâ angry barrier created some room where Khanâs mana could expand and release its power, only to amount to a mere delay. Khan heard sparks crackling inside his very brain, but his existence kept melting, albeit at a slower pace.
The gap between Khan and the God was reflected in that internal conflict. No matter how strong Khan was and how many different arts he had amassed, he remained too inferior to that greater entity.
Nevertheless, as much as that slower defeat didnât change Khanâs predicament, it was enough to earn him a reaction from the God.
"[Your different paths were promising]," The God praised. "[Their complete fusion would have been compelling and useful to face]."
The slower pace of that internal transformation didnât remove the melting pain it caused. Khan felt as if pieces of himself were disappearing drop by drop, but his cellsâ intervention diminished the suffering, allowing him to refocus his glowing gaze.
Khan saw the God looking down at him. Yet, behind that superior existence, the Emperor was in a far worse state, a state that earned Khanâs full attention.
Flickering smoke now covered the bigger needle that had pierced the Emperorâs chest, as if assaulted by dark flames. Still, chunks of his skin had also suffered from a similar fate, invaded by that black fire.
Obviously, that wasnât an invasion. It was a transformation that the Emperorâs dwindling vast existence reflected. His very being was changing into something else, his path toward his new state laid by his shard of divine True Chaos.