My world-tree system-Chapter 98 - 97: Plan of destruction

In the depths of a fortress carved out of black rock, far below the surface, bathed in a dark red light pulsing like a sick heart, silence reigned. Not a whisper. Not a cry. Just the constant breath of an ancient, unhealthy power, alive within the very walls of this Cyclopean cavern.

There were seven of them. Gathered together.

The Lords of the Apocalypse.

Their slender, sinister figures, draped in black cloth and runic plaques, towered over a vast obsidian table engraved with shifting glyphs. Each of them - dark elves from a forgotten lineage - carried in their aura an oppression so dense that a mortal could not have stood for more than a minute in their presence.

A woman’s soft, cold voice broke the silence:

- Vollua is still standing.

She belonged to Sälithra, the Lady of the Eclipse, sitting upright, hands folded in front of her. Her long silver hair framed an angular, impassive face, where the slightest emotion seemed to have been banished centuries ago. She was the icy intelligence of the group. Strategist. Tactician.

- And the dragon hatched. Worse... it woke up," she continued without raising her voice.

An annoyed growl sounded from the far end of the table. Dregor, known as "the Scourge", leaned forward slightly. His voice sounded like gravel crunching under hooves.

- The dragon was not meant to survive the corruption of the tomb. It should have been consumed by its own magic. You guaranteed his death, Sälithra.

- I only guarantee probabilities, not miracles," she replied calmly.

- You’re all too slow," said a third voice, higher up, feverish.

Joker.

There he was, sitting backwards in his chair, chin resting on the backrest, a crooked grin splitting his face as his black-rimmed eyes darted from one Lord to another.

- A dragon, a whining elf, a city protected by a big leafy mummy... I love this world. But I’m starting to get bored.

He chuckled.

- It’s time to burn something, isn’t it? Break some bones, have a little taste of the apocalypse, I mean...

Sälithra didn’t even look at him.

- Enough playing. Vollua has become an anomaly. An untouchable sanctuary. It can’t go on like this. We’ve got to get the seed back.

At these words, the atmosphere hardened immediately.

All the Lords fell silent, even Joker, whose smile weakened slightly.

Sälithra continued:

- Foster is the carrier. As long as he’s alive, the Seed can’t be extracted without destroying his envelope. But if he’s weakened... captured... we can migrate it. And free the Kaizen.

A shiver ran through the room. Even for them, this name was not to be uttered lightly.

Kaizen.

The ancient destroyers. The bearers of the Void. The ones even dragons feared.

- And Vollua? asked Thurel, the Mute Lord, whose voice was but a hoarse murmur. The Mother Tree is linked to the Seed. She won’t allow herself to be taken over.

- And that’s where our joker comes in..." said Joker, grinning from ear to ear.

He snapped his fingers. A magic circle appeared in the center of the table. The image of King Thorgrim, the former ruler of Eldorim, appeared. He stood, looking frozen, his skin gray and his eyes unlit.

- The mark works perfectly," sneered Joker. He still believes he can save his people. And thanks to our latest invention, his flesh itself has become a weapon. A magic bomb, built into his very core.

Sälithra nodded slowly.

- If he gets inside Vollua... and gets close enough to the Mother Tree...

- BOOM," cut in Joker, bursting into laughter. The defenses come down. The Mother Tree’s shield explodes. And we send...

- The Eight Generals of Hell," declared Dregor grimly. Each with their legions of Obscurus.

- It’ll be a slaughter," murmured Thurel, his lips barely parted.

Sälithra raised a hand.

- And in the chaos, Foster will be captured. The seed extracted. The Mother Tree torn from Vollua. The last stronghold will fall. And we’ll open the door.

- ... to the Kaizen," concluded Dregor, his fist pounding the table.

A thick silence followed.

Then Joker leapt to his feet, his coat billowing around him.

- I’m going to break the news to our dear king. He deserves that, doesn’t he? A little truth... before it becomes fireworks.

His smile widens to the extreme.

- He loves surprises.

He disappeared in a flash of blackness, sneering.

King Thorgrim was alone, chained to a stone throne, his eyes empty, his arms marked by the black lines of the slave brand.

When Joker appeared in a rustle of shadows, he didn’t even look up.

But Joker crouched in front of him, patting his cheeks with a playful kid’s grin.

- Hey, Your Majesty. Wake up, I’ve got wonderful news for you.

He held out one hand, palm up.

A black flame appeared, dancing, taking the shape of... Vollua.

- Guess what you’re going to do... You’re going home. You’re going to play the poor broken king. You’re going to cry. You’re going to beg. And you’re gonna stand... right there. Right here. At the root of the Mother Tree.

He patted his own chest, where a heart would beat.

- And there... you’re going to give us a nice opening.

Thorgrim gritted his teeth, his eyes moist with silent rage.

- You... you’re monsters...

Joker burst out laughing, straightening up and whirling around.

- No, no, no, my king. You still don’t understand. The monsters... they’re the ones who left the Kaizen locked up. We are their liberation. Their voice. Their revenge.

He approached again, until he whispered in the king’s ear:

- And you will be the key to our hope.

Thorgrim screamed in rage, powerless, chained by the magic that was eating away at his soul.

And in the shadows, the Lords of the Apocalypse were preparing the end of everything.

Night had fallen on Vollua, peaceful and heavy with silence. The stars, as if frozen in the inky sky, shone with a rare intensity, illuminating the canopy with a pale, soft glow. Atop a natural promontory, at the edge of a silent lake where the surface of the water reflected the night sky like a perfect mirror, Foster lay on his back, hands crossed behind his head, eyes lost in the constellations.

Beside him lay Xor’venhaal.

The jade colossus lay curled around the lake, its wings folded and its scales gleaming in places under the lunar glow. He seemed relaxed, but in his golden eyes, open and watching over the night, a deep reflection beat like a second heart. Foster broke the silence, his voice barely a whisper.

- It’s strange... you impress me even more when you say nothing.

The dragon didn’t answer immediately. A warm breath rose gently from his nostrils, making the grass around him quiver.

- That’s because you know I’m thinking. And that’s what worries you.

Foster turned his head toward him, one eyebrow raised.

- Are you reading my mind now?

- No. But I know you. And tonight, I have to tell you what I haven’t yet had the courage to address.

Foster straightened slowly, his face tensing.

- I’m all ears.

The dragon moved, slowly, as if searching for words. Then his voice echoed in Foster’s mind, deep, slow, solemn.

- What you and I are going through is no coincidence. The Seed and the Dragon have always been linked. In every age, every time a bearer of the Seed has been born, a dragon has been born alongside it. It’s an ancient law. A forgotten pact between the life forces of this world.

Foster remained silent, stunned.

- They weren’t always friends. Sometimes enemies. Sometimes lovers. Sometimes brothers. But never without each other. For the Seed cannot grow without fire. And fire cannot be mastered without roots.

Foster looked down, meditative.

- You say that like it’s... a cycle.

- It is a cycle. And it’s coming to an end.

The dragon slowly spread one of his wings, letting it quiver in the breeze.

- Throughout the ages, certain Avatars have discovered methods... forbidden, dangerous, but powerful. Ways to transcend the limits of their union.

Foster frowned, guessing what would happen next.

- One of these means was draconic fusion. The absolute unification between the Avatar of the Seed... and the Guardian Dragon. A fusion of soul, body... and intention. Together, they became a unique, almost divine being. The Draconic Avatar of the World Tree.

Foster stepped back slightly, hands clenched.

- Are you talking about... becoming a single being?

- Yes, I’m talking about that. Colossal power. Unsurpassed. Able to vanquish the greatest entities, to extinguish armies with a breath, to bring the forest back to life where it was once charred. But this...

He paused, his voice darkening.

- ...this merger is irreversible. There’s no coming back. No more Foster. No more Xor’venhaal. Just a new consciousness, born of our union. Something else.

Silence fell, crushing.

Foster’s heart beat violently. He felt a cold sweat slide down his spine.

- You mean... I’d die?

- No, I don’t mean that. You’ll evolve. But the man you are, the dragon I am... will be consumed.

There was a long silence. Then Foster sighed, deeply, his gaze once again lost in the stars.

- Why tell me this now?

- Because if one day, Vollua is about to fall. If the Kaizen break free. If the Lords of the Apocalypse get their hands on the Seed... you’ll have to choose. Save the world... or stay Foster.

Foster closed his eyes.

- It’s a burden, not a gift.

- It’s a choice. But I’ll teach you. Make you ready. And when that time comes... you’ll know.

Foster didn’t answer.