Chapter 545: Supreme divinity

The voice was hoarse, ruined from disuse or screaming or both. But it was unmistakably Lucas Grey.

He looked nothing like the Alpha-ranked fighter Noah remembered. That Lucas had been powerful, confident, moving through combat with grace that came from pure genetics. This Lucas looked like death warmed over, like he’d been hollowed out and filled with raw electrical energy as replacement for blood.

But the aura. That ridiculous, overwhelming aura that made Noah’s instincts scream warnings. It was stronger than before. Significantly stronger.

Noah took a step forward, about to close the distance and verify this wasn’t some trick. Then his eyes caught movement behind Lucas’s back.

Arthur was returning. His body reformed from the shadows, materializing from the distorted space itself, already throwing a punch enhanced by metal coating and lightning.

"Lucas, watch—"

Noah barely got the words out before Lucas vanished. Not blinked, not phased. Simply ceased existing in his current position like a lighter spark extinguishing. One instant he stood stationary, the next he was gone.

Immediately he reappeared behind Arthur, already mid-spin. His leg came around in a roundhouse kick, boot wreathed in blue-white lightning. The electricity coiling around his limb was so concentrated it looked solid, like someone had forged a blade from pure voltage.

The kick connected with Arthur’s ribs before the man could abort his momentum. The impact created thunder that rolled across the shadow space, shockwaves visible rippling outward from the contact point.

Arthur flew sideways, tumbling end over end, crashed into the ground fifty feet away with enough force to create an impression in whatever surface existed here.

Lucas landed on his feet, perfectly balanced, lightning still dancing across his skeletal frame. He didn’t look at Noah, didn’t acknowledge the reunion. His attention stayed locked on Arthur’s prone form.

"We need to finish this fast," Lucas said, that ruined voice carrying clearly. "His abilities are failing. I could tell when he pulled you in here. The shadow manipulation is strong but unstable. He’s running out of time."

Noah blinked. "You could tell? How long have you—"

"For months," Lucas interrupted. "Trapped in this space, sensing Arthur come and go, learning his patterns. I could never reach him on time. This space it feels everlasting, you know?" He never bothered to let Noah answer that question.

He then gestured at himself. "This is what happens when you spend that long with nothing but lightning to sustain you. It changes things."

Arthur pushed himself up slowly, blood running from his mouth. His ribs were caved in on one side, visible deformation despite the metal coating trying to reinforce the damage. His regeneration was working but at a crawl, the healing factor that should have fixed broken bones in seconds taking minutes now.

"Lucas Grey," Arthur said, coughing blood. "You’ve somehow survived. Impressive."

"You trapped me with my own power" Lucas replied. "Gave me time to master it. Your mistake."

Arthur laughed despite the pain. "Everyone makes mistakes. Difference is, I learn from them."

Shadows erupted from the ground around him, formed defensive barriers. Lightning sparked across his hands, building charge. But Noah could see the strain now, see the way Arthur’s abilities flickered at the edges, threatening to fail completely.

Lucas moved first. He crossed the distance in a single bound, appearing inside Arthur’s shadow defenses before they could fully form. His fist drove into Arthur’s face, the impact creating that distinctive sound of bone breaking.

Noah was right behind him. Void Blink carried him to Arthur’s opposite side, his boot catching the man across the back while he was reeling from Lucas’s punch. They coordinated without words, instinct and combat experience letting them flow around each other’s movements.

Arthur tried to create separation, activating his lightning to fly upward. Lucas appeared above him, grabbed his ankle, yanked him back down. Noah was waiting at ground level, knee raised to meet Arthur’s descending spine.

The three of them fell into a rhythm. Arthur would defend against Lucas, leaving himself open to Noah. He’d counter Noah’s attack, giving Lucas an opening. Every time he tried to use his copied abilities to gain advantage, the techniques flickered, failed, left him vulnerable.

Shadows that should have formed solid barriers became translucent, easily broken. Lightning that should have carried lethal voltage barely stung. Metal coating that should have been impenetrable cracked under sustained assault.

Arthur was losing. Actually, genuinely losing.

His back hit the ground for the fifth time. Blood covered everything, his breathing ragged. Lucas and Noah stood over him, both breathing hard but still functional.

"It’s over," Noah said.

Arthur looked up at them. Then he smiled, blood running down his chin. "Is it?"

The shadows around him began fading. Not just the defensive constructs, but the entire space itself. The distorted landscape started becoming transparent, bleeding back toward normal reality.

Arthur stumbled back, his domain flickering at the edges. The strain of maintaining it was visible now—sweat beaded on his forehead, his breathing labored.

Lucas’s eyes narrowed, tracking every微shake in Arthur’s stance. "The domain’s collapsing."

"He can’t hold it much longer," Noah added, moving to flank Arthur’s other side. "Which means—"

"He has to exit," Lucas finished. "Soon."

They exchanged glances. The math was simple and brutal.

"We could kill you right here," Lucas said, stepping closer. "End this now."

"Or," Noah moved in from the other side, "you exit and take us with you. End the suffering since you’re already losing."

Arthur’s laugh was bitter. "You’d gamble on finding another way out of a collapsing pocket dimension?"

"We’d gamble on you not wanting to die here either," Lucas said.

Before Arthur could react, Lucas lunged forward and grabbed his arm. Noah seized the other.

"Let’s see what’s waiting outside," Noah said grimly.

Arthur cursed, but the domain was already fracturing around them. He had no choice now—they’d forced his hand. With their grip locked on him, he had to take them with him when he exited, or they’d all die in the collapse.

Reality twisted.

The shadow space dissolved.

Reality snapped back like a rubber band released—late afternoon sunlight harsh after hours in that twisted darkness. Noah’s boots hit solid ground, his knees buckling slightly from the transition. Lucas landed beside him, breathing hard, electricity still crackling faintly across his knuckles.

Arthur materialized ten feet away, clutching his ribs where Lucas had struck him repeatedly. Blood ran from his mouth, his nose, seeping between fingers pressed against his side. His regeneration was failing, the combined damage from both of them finally overwhelming even his stacked healing abilities.

They’d emerged in the settlement’s central square. Buildings surrounded them on three sides, some still intact, others reduced to rubble from their earlier assault. Grey forces were scattered across the perimeter, weapons raised but not firing, their attention fixed on something Noah couldn’t immediately identify.

Then he saw them.

Children.

Dozens of them, maybe thirty or forty, standing in loose formation around the square’s edges. They ranged in age from perhaps six years old to early teens, each one wearing simple clothes that looked more like uniforms than casual wear. Their faces held expressions Noah couldn’t quite read, something between anticipation and wariness.

Beyond the children, women of various ages watched from doorways and between buildings, their bodies half-hidden but their attention completely focused on Arthur’s arrival.

Noah’s tactical assessment kicked in automatically. ’No weapons visible on the children. But their positioning is too deliberate to be random. They’re forming a perimeter, cutting off escape routes without making it obvious.’

Lucy was fifty feet away near the settlement’s eastern edge, her body still glowing faintly with residual electrical discharge from whatever recovery the Grey medics had managed. She saw Lucas immediately, her eyes going wide.

"LUCAS!" Her voice carried across the square as she started forward, lightning beginning to build around her hands.

She made it three steps before hitting something invisible.

Lucy froze mid-stride, her right foot lifted, her left arm extended, electricity locked in place around her fingers like someone had pressed pause on reality itself. Her expression was fixed mid-shout, mouth open, eyes focused on her brother.

Commander Hight tried pushing through from another angle. The moment her hand crossed some threshold Noah couldn’t see, she became a statue, weapon raised, body perfectly still.

Kelvin had recovered enough to pilot what remained of KROME’s torso and right arm. The damaged mech fired a plasma beam toward the square’s center. The energy reached the same invisible boundary and simply hung there, suspended, a streak of blue-white energy frozen in midair.

"What..." Lucas turned in a circle, taking in the frozen Grey forces, the suspended plasma beam, the complete stillness beyond a certain radius. "What is this?"

Noah looked arounrd, trying to map the distortion. It felt like hitting a wall made from compressed time, a sphere roughly thirty feet in diameter with them at the center. Everyone outside could move freely but the moment they tried crossing that threshold, temporal stasis claimed them completely.

His attention snapped to the children. They were all still moving, still breathing, completely unaffected by whatever had frozen the Grey forces in place. One of them in particular drew his focus.

A boy, maybe twelve years old, standing slightly apart from the others. His right hand was extended, fingers spread wide, palm facing outward toward the invisible barrier. Unlike the other children whose faces showed eagerness or determination, this one’s expression was blank, almost neutral.

’He’s maintaining it. Whatever this bubble is, he’s the source.’

Arthur straightened slowly despite his injuries, one hand still pressed against his ruined ribs. He looked around the square, taking in the frozen Grey forces, the children in formation, then finally the boy with his hand extended.

"Good," Arthur said quietly. "Hold them there."

The boy didn’t respond. His hand stayed extended, his expression remained unchanged.

Noah stepped forward carefully, testing whether he could move freely within the bubble. He could. Lucas did the same, confirming they weren’t affected by whatever temporal manipulation was keeping everyone else frozen.

"Time manipulation," Noah said, his voice carrying across the square. "Same as Lila’s ability. Except amplified beyond anything I’ve seen before." He looked at the boy. "You’re controlling this. The entire field. Freezing everyone outside while letting us move freely inside."

The boy’s eyes flicked toward Noah for half a second before returning to their fixed position on the barrier.

Arthur wiped blood from his mouth with the back of his hand, examined it briefly, then looked at his children. "Come here. All of you."

The children moved immediately, closing ranks, forming a tighter circle around Arthur, Noah, and Lucas. They moved with synchronized precision, each one taking a position that complemented the others, creating overlapping fields of coverage that would make approaching Arthur difficult without engaging multiple targets.

Noah studied their faces as they repositioned. Now that they were closer, the similarity was obvious. Not identical twins, but clear genetic echoes. Same bone structure. Same eye color. Same proportions in their features.

They all looked like younger versions of Arthur.

Except one.

The boy maintaining the time field looked nothing like Arthur or his siblings. Different facial structure, different coloring, different everything. Like he’d been created from completely different genetic stock. Noah knew this had to be Arthur’s doing.

’Why?’ Noah thought. ’Why make all of them in your image except one?’

Arthur noticed Noah’s attention. "You’re wondering about the resemblance."

"Among other things," Noah replied carefully. His hand drifted toward where Excaliburn would normally materialize, but he held off on summoning it. ’Not yet. I need to understand what’s happening here first.’

"They’re my children," Arthur said simply. "All of them. I created them, raised them, trained them in the use of their abilities." He gestured at the boy holding the barrier. "Some showed more promise than others."

Lucas was staring at Arthur with absolute hatred. "You made them look like you. That’s sick."

"I gave them purpose," Arthur corrected. "Legacy demands continuity. These children will carry forward what I began, long after this body fails." He paused, his hand pressing harder against his injured ribs. "The seven thought they could erase me by locking me away. They didn’t understand that power isn’t about the individual. It’s about what persists."

Noah’s mind was racing, connecting pieces he’d seen across multiple worlds. ’The abominations. The creatures that could adapt and copy abilities but died within days or weeks. Failed experiments. He’s been trying to create offspring that can inherit his copying ability for decades, maybe centuries. And these children...’

"How many worlds?" Noah asked quietly. "How many times did you try this before it worked?"

Arthur’s smile was thin, bloodied. "Enough to perfect the process." He looked at his children, something approaching actual warmth in his expression. "They can all copy abilities, though not as efficiently as I can. But given time, they adapt. Given training, they excel."

The boy holding the barrier still hadn’t moved, hadn’t changed expression. But Noah caught something now, a subtle tension in his shoulders, a slight tightening around his eyes. Not stress from maintaining the field. Something else.

"You gave them numbers instead of names," Noah said, louder now, making sure his voice carried to all the children. "Like they’re equipment. Like they are some tools. This is madness Arthur,"

"They understand their purpose," Arthur replied. "Names are sentiment. I taught them what matters is power, function, capability, results!!" He gestured at the frozen Grey forces beyond the barrier. "Look at your allies. Trapped because they relied on conventional thinking, conventional power structures. These children learned different lessons."

One of the younger children, maybe eight years old, spoke up. "Father says sentiment makes you weak. That the originals fell because they valued emotion over strength."

Another child, slightly older: "We’re meant to be better than humans. Better than the seven. Father’s teaching us perfection."

Noah felt something cold settle in his chest. ’They actually believe it. He’s shaped how they think, what they value, their entire worldview. These aren’t just soldiers, they’re disciples.’

Lucas must have been thinking the same thing because his voice carried barely controlled rage. "You brainwashed children. They even have this sickening look in their eyes like you’re their god. You raised them to worship you, didn’t you?"

"I raised them to understand reality," Arthur said calmly. "That power determines everything. That those who cannot adapt will be replaced. That sentiment is a luxury the strong allow themselves after victory, not something the weak use as an excuse for failure."

He looked directly at Lucas. "Your father’s brother understood this. Dom Grey made his choices based on what served his interests, not what made him feel morally superior. He betrayed your team because he recognized which side would prevail. That’s intelligence, not villainy."

Lucas took a step forward, electricity building around his hands. "Don’t you dare talk about my family like you understand anything about us."

"I understand you better than you understand yourself," Arthur replied. "You’re so consumed with revenge for your father’s adoption that you’ve spent months playing soldier with Eclipse Faction instead of accepting the obvious truth. The seven controlled everything through proxy influence for centuries. Your family served their interests. They deserved what happened to them."

"My father is a good man," Lucas said, his voice dropping to something dangerous.

"Your father was a pawn," Arthur corrected. "As are you. As is every person with abilities traced back to the originals. You think your power belongs to you? You’re just carrying their genetic legacy, using abilities they developed and refined centuries before you were born."

Noah saw where this was going and cut in before Lucas could do something that would get them both killed. "So this is about revenge. Everything you’ve done. Taking the family heads, creating these children, building your settlements across multiple worlds. It’s all revenge for what the seven did to your wife."

Arthur’s expression shifted, some of the calm facade cracking. "Maive died while I was trapped underground, unable to help her, unable to even know she was in danger. The seven could have released me. They chose not to. They chose to let her die alone because keeping me imprisoned was more important than one woman’s life."

"So you’re going to kill everyone descended from them," Noah finished. "Wipe out the bloodlines. That’s the endgame."

"Not kill," Arthur said. "Replace. These children will inherit what the seven built. They’ll take the positions of power, the resources, the influence. And they’ll use it better because they understand the cost of weakness, the price of sentiment, the necessity of strength."

He looked at his children again, and Noah finally understood the expression. It wasn’t warmth. It looked more like possession. The way someone looks at a weapon they’ve forged, a tool they’ve perfected.

"They’re my legacy," Arthur continued. "My answer to centuries of betrayal. The seven thought they could erase me by locking me away. Instead, they gave me time to think, to plan, to understand exactly how to dismantle everything they built."

Noah’s attention returned to the boy holding the barrier. The tension in his posture had increased, subtle but present. His extended hand was steady but his jaw was tight, his breathing slightly faster than it should be for someone simply maintaining an ability.

’Something’s wrong. He’s not just holding the field. He’s thinking. Processing what Arthur’s saying. He might be the key to ending all of this,’

Lucas had noticed too. His eyes flicked between Arthur and the boy, his expression shifting from rage to something more analytical. "That one’s different," Lucas said quietly. "The others are looking at you like you’re their god. He’s looking at you like you’re a problem he’s trying to solve,"

Noah could see what Lucas was up to. Time inside fHe shadow dimension hadn’t changed much about the best soldier he knew.

Arthur glanced at the boy, and for the first time Noah saw something almost like genuine affection cross his features. "One has always been different. More capable. More intelligent. More..." He paused. "Perfect."

"One?" Noah repeated. "That’s his designation?"

"That’s his name," Arthur corrected. "The first to successfully inherit my abilities without degradation. The others came after, refinements of the process that created him. But he remains the template, the original success."

The boy, One, still hadn’t changed his expression. But Noah caught his eyes shifting again, looking at Arthur properly for the first time since the barrier had gone up.

’He heard that. "Original success." "Template." Arthur’s talking about him like he’s a prototype that worked, not like he’s a son.’

Noah took a calculated risk. "How old is he?"

"Twelve years, physically," Arthur replied. "Though his actual age is complicated. Accelerated growth in the early stages, normal development once viability was confirmed."

"Accelerated growth," Noah repeated. "You built him. Literally constructed him from genetic material and awakened abilities, then aged him artificially until he was old enough to be useful."

"I created him," Arthur said with something like pride. "From nothing. The ultimate proof that legacy doesn’t require bloodlines or inheritance. You can manufacture it if you understand the principles deeply enough."

Lucas was staring at One now, his expression shifting to something Noah couldn’t quite read. Recognition? Understanding? Whatever it was, Lucas suddenly looked at the boy like he was seeing a different person entirely.

"You made him to replace you," Lucas said quietly. "Not just to carry on your work. To actually become you. That’s why you call yourself his father, and pose yourself like you are some god. You’re trying to transfer your consciousness, your entire identity into him."

"Not transfer," Arthur replied. "Continuity doesn’t require the original to persist. It requires the template to be reproduced accurately enough that the distinction becomes meaningless. One carries my abilities, my training, my understanding of how power functions. When I’m gone, he’ll continue exactly as I would have. That’s legacy."

Noah felt pieces clicking together. "The other children. They’re backups. You made them all in case One failed. Each one a potential replacement, ready to step in if your ’original success’ turned out to have flaws you didn’t anticipate."

Arthur didn’t confirm or deny. He just watched Noah with that same analytical expression he’d worn in their previous encounters.

"One," Arthur said, his tone shifting to something almost gentle. "The Grey girl. End her."

One didn’t move. Didn’t respond. Just maintained the bubble, staring at Arthur with that unreadable expression.

"One," Arthur repeated, voice firmer now. "I gave you a command."

Still nothing. The boy’s hand stayed extended, power steady, but he made no move to comply.

Arthur’s eyes narrowed. "One. I am your father. Everything you are, everything you can do, exists because I made it so. You obey."

Noah watched One’s face carefully. Saw the micro-expressions that flickered across those young features. Confusion first. Then something that might have been realization. Then something else entirely.

Doubt.

"One," Arthur said again, and this time there was steel in his voice. "Kill the Grey girl. Now."

The boy’s gaze moved from Arthur to Lucy’s frozen form outside the bubble. Then back to Arthur. Then to the other children standing in formation, all wearing variations of Arthur’s face while One looked nothing like any of them.

His mouth opened slightly, forming words that came out barely above a whisper.

"No."