I Can Assimilate Everything-Chapter 331: Loss I

In a domain untouched by sun or starlight, where the folds of space twisted and bent like smoke in an endless void, Selamira fell to her knees.

The silence was unbearable.

Black lightning cracked across the skyless expanse, illuminating the twisted spirals of obsidian that jutted from the ground like the ribs of a dead titan. The throne of darkness stood at the center of it all- cold, absolute, unyielding. And seated upon it, as if carved into the obsidian itself, was Him.

Her Master.

She had just leapt from his lap, her body bare beneath tendrils of midnight shadow that coiled around her like living silk.

Her breathing was shallow, her pale skin damp with fear and anticipation, not from their intimacy... but from the terrible stillness that followed it.

She bowed deeply, pressing her head down so that her hair splayed like a fan around her.

"Forgive me, Master," she whispered, her voice trembling. "Forgive me for my failure."

...!

She could not bear to raise her head.

The image of Achilles Maxwell, standing with obsidian light licking around his limbs, unbothered by a Neuronova-stage self-destruction... haunted her.

She had believed he would fall. That the gamma-flame destruction would either kill him or leave him a broken wretch that could be swept up in whispers and propaganda.

But he had devoured it. Like a feast. Effortless.

Unbothered.

The glorious plan that her master had concocted had actually failed as her clone was captured and devoured!

And now, here... in the silence that stretched long beyond what it should, Selamira trembled.

Because her Master loved to speak. He always spoke.

He was never silent!

The quiet that weighed on the domain now was the kind of stillness that devoured skies. That broke minds. That turned arrogance into ash.

She clenched her jaw to stop her teeth from chattering. Her fingers curled into fists, pressed against the dark floor. And then...

"Haah..."

...!

A sigh.

It came like the exhale of one waking up from a long slumber

Deep. Measured. Filled with a weight that could only come from millennia of existence. His voice followed, not angry, not even disappointed- but philosophical, like it always was when he had already moved several steps beyond what everyone else was seeing.

"Loss," said the Primordial Light of Darkness, "is a tutor that few willingly embrace."

His voice echoed across the obsidian realm like a chorus. It did not come from his mouth. It came from everywhere.

"It is unpleasant. Vile. A shackle to one’s pride. But it teaches. And I..." A pause. The crack of dark lightning above. "...I have learned much today from this loss."

Selamira’s body sagged with relief, a soft breath escaping her lips as if her lungs had just remembered how to breathe. He wasn’t angry. He had seen the failure. And he had learned. That was good. That was...

Her face hardened.

Her voice came sharper now, her shoulders straightening as she knelt.

"That whore of Achilles," she hissed, bitterness cutting into each syllable, "had the gall to call you the Outsider. If they knew- if they truly understood that this foreign energy was earned by you, with your own hands and effort, they would never have dared!"

She stood now, a veil of shadows sliding around her nakedness as if in approval of her rising fervor.

"I’ll go to the Atlantians. The Phoenix Legions. Our allies across the Everburn Aerie Continent and Thalassphere Arx and others. I’ll make sure none of them act foolishly. I’ll show them we are the ones protecting this Plane. That you are its salvation."

She was burning now. Her words sharp, her purpose clear.

She turned.

She was about to vanish.

And then- his voice.

"About that..."

...!

She froze.

Her steps faltered mid-stride, and she turned slowly, slowly, as her Master’s obsidian form rose from the throne, descending the staircase like a being made of silence and ruin.

"I have lived long," he said, his voice gentle now, almost... regretful. "And I have faced many enemies. But there are some that do not yield to strength. Some that twist the very concept of power."

He came closer. Each footstep echoed like a bell toll in a dead city.

"And for them... for this one... I must change my approach. I must throw away many plans. And many things."

Selamira’s eyes pulsed.

She didn’t understand. Not yet.

"Many... things?" she asked, her voice thin.

His next words were ice.

"My strength has become my weakness," the Primordial Light of Darkness said simply.

And in that moment, the air grew colder than any void.

"The connections I’ve nurtured. The alliances I’ve built. The Ancient Ones who whisper my name with reverence..."

He was so close now. She could see his form clearly. A silhouette of shadow wrapped in starlight, his face ever-changing. His body both present and ethereal.

"I had to work so hard," he continued, "to ensure no trace of me remained in your clone. Even then, Achilles saw fragments."

He stopped a step away from her. She couldn’t move.

"And now... I must ensure such a thing never happens again because you see...information is critical. Far too critical."

HUUM!

Selamira’s heartbeat slammed against her ribs.

No.

She stepped back.

"Master, I.. "

"You already know," he said quietly.

His voice was kind.

Too kind.

Tears welled in her eyes.

"No..." she whispered, her legs trembling. "I-I did everything..."

"You did." His voice did not rise. It did not accuse. It simply... was.

"You served well. But you are known. You were seen. And that makes you a liability in this game."

She crumbled.

Her body dropped to her knees again, tears falling freely.

And then, her voice, barely audible.

"Then...is it true. You truly are... an Outsider?"

The question hung in the air like a blade.

The Primordial Light of Darkness knelt before her.

His shadowy hand, deceptively gentle, cupped her face. Thumb brushing the tears that flowed freely now.

"You know the answer," he said softly, almost lovingly.

Her eyes closed.

And she nodded.

Just once.

She nodded!

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