Global Gods : Skill-Resonance Awakened Chapter 383 383: Ch 383 : Beyonder

The sphere of darkness was no mere shadow; it was a cosmic cancer. Spreading across trillions of light-years, it navigated the void with a predatory sentience, dismantling the fundamental laws of every multiverse it encountered.

This entity belonged to a Beyonder, a plague currently inflicting irreparable damage upon the inner world of Lady Sansa.

It advanced not like a tempest, but akin to an inkblot on parchment, annihilating multiverses, civilizations, and even the immutable constants of physics.

Where it passed, the vacuum did not simply fade to black; it ceased to exist entirely.

Within the Real Void, the transcendent plane underpinning all existence, the High Court of the Nihilium was embroiled in a debate that threatened to shatter the very foundations of reality.

The atmosphere was heavy with the pressure of ancient power. Here, the beings present did not merely occupy space; they defined it.

"I can provide assistance to her," Verion declared, his voice a calm, serene melody that subtly concealed a sharpened ambition.

His physical form was a marvel of cosmic scale. Although he initially appeared human, a closer inspection revealed a terrifying truth: his skin possessed the texture of a swirling nebula, the profound violets and golds of his Royal Nihilium bloodline shimmering beneath the surface like captured lightning.

He was a figure of daunting legacy, the true mastermind behind the Demon Lords and the clandestine supporter of Lom, one of the chosen individuals he had strategically placed within the bubble to exploit its potential while the other royals were occupied.

Now, his attention was fixed upon the crisis unfolding within Sansa's domain, his eyes mirroring a hunger entirely unrelated to heroism.

"I am still more than capable of safeguarding my own daughter, Verion," Samson countered, his voice a deep, resonant growl that vibrated through the floor and rattled the immense chandeliers of void-diamond suspended above.

Samson, Sansa's father, was a spectacle of ancestral might. While many Nihilium royals shared similar cosmic characteristics, Samson was distinguished by a magnificent mustache and beard that blazed with a pure, white luminescence, signifying his status as a High Elder within the royal hierarchy.

He was the maternal grandfather of Cosmos, though he remained tragically unaware of the boy's existence. Following the abrupt disappearance of his eldest daughter during her pregnancy and the subsequent shattering of her life-stone, he had long presumed his grandson deceased.

Only Sansa and her loyal maid were privy to the truth: that her sister had absconded to shield the child from Verion's grasp, bestowing upon the boy the name Cosmos, the one prophesied to attain everything reality had to offer.

"Let us dispense with this trivial posturing," an elderly man interjected, rising from his seat at the head of the lengthy table. His voice, though thin, bore the immense gravity of a dying star.

"The Beyonder must be eradicated before it contaminates Child Sansa's inner world. As her father, Samson possesses the inherent right to intervene. However, Verion is her betrothed. It is only natural for him to exhibit concern. As Head Elder, I cast my vote: both shall enter the bubble to resolve this matter collectively."

Gradually, the remaining elders of the court elevated their hands, their eyes radiating a collective assent.

Verion emitted a subtle click of his tongue, a rare display of annoyance, a fleeting expression of a snarl crossing his handsome features before he recomposed it into a charming inclination toward the Head Elder.

Samson could offer only a grim, silent nod; within the Real Void, the Courtroom's verdict was absolute. It was a mandate that could only be countermanded by the Void Emperor himself, a being who had not been sighted within these halls for an eon.

One by one, the elders of the courtroom dissolved into thin air, leaving no trace of their presence. Only the two titans remained standing in the vast, empty chamber.

"Verion, you are keenly aware, as am I, that an inner world cannot sustain the burden of two High Nihilium royals," Samson cautioned, his gaze fixed intently on the younger man. "It will shatter before we can even confront the Beyonder. The spatial dimension of the bubble is akin to wet clay in our hands."

"Then perhaps you should remain behind, Father-in-law," Verion retorted, a smirk contorting his features. "You have always been more of a diplomat than a warrior. Allow me to handle this solo. I shall attend to my fiancée exceptionally well and vanquish the Beyonder before it can inflict further corruption upon her. Furthermore, my speed in the lower worlds far surpasses yours."

He commenced his departure, his hands clasped behind his back in a gesture of effortless arrogance. "But the decision stands. The heavens themselves would have to rend asunder for the Court to retract its order. I trust Sansa possesses sufficient fortitude to bear the weight of both our presences. Let us proceed, Father-in-law... she awaits our aid."

With a sudden, violent distortion of space, Verion vanished into nothingness, leaving Samson to follow with a heavy heart and a tightening grasp upon his staff of white radiance.

Within the secluded haven of her palatial chambers, Sansa directed her gaze inward, observing the turbulent expanse of her inner self. A weary, drawn-out exhale escaped her lips, her eyes exhibiting signs of redness from the intense effort of breaching her mental domain.

"I have been denied entry," she murmured, her fingers idly tracing the fractured, luminous boundary of her inner world.

"The Beyonder is absorbing my multiverses with alarming swiftness, a pace beyond my calculation. It is akin to a conflagration sweeping through a vast repository of knowledge. And Cosmos... he has already ventured within its confines. Even the reborn incarnations of the Old Gods have been drawn towards its core. This cannot be mere chance."

"My Lady," her attendant whispered, her grip tightening on the fabric of her apron until her knuckles turned white. "For a Beyonder to attack with such surgical precision... it implies an external guiding hand. They possessed intimate knowledge of the dimensional weak points."

Suddenly, the maid's ears flickered, detecting an incoming presence whose resonance sent a shiver through her very soul. She inclined her head deeply, her voice descending into a hushed, fearful tone. "Mistress, he is within the palace grounds. That individual has arrived and awaits you in the Grand Hall. Your father is imminent."

"It appears my father could not impede the proceedings of the Courtroom," Sansa stated, a blend of apprehension and determination igniting in her eyes. With a sharp snap of her fingers, the verdant garden dissolved in an instant, supplanted by the stark, cold marble of her inner sanctum.

"My sole hope rests on my father's ability to occupy Verion's attention. I understand his true objective is not the Beyonder; his aim is to seize Cosmos, or eliminate him, thereby paving the way for his protégé, Lom."

While the celestial beings of the Real Void maneuvered their pawns, Sunny, known to them as Cosmos, remained blissfully oblivious to the divine strategies unfolding around him.

He found himself standing at the epicenter of negation, confronting a Beyonder. These were entities of such formidable power that they were responsible for the very wounds afflicting the Void Emperor, the reason the void itself had brought forth its chosen beings to maintain cosmic equilibrium.

Yet, the gravity of his predicament far surpassed his awareness. He was positioned at the nexus of a grand cosmic maneuver.

Deimos, the harbinger of discord, was advancing with lethal intent.

And now, Verion, the architect of the demonic entities that Sunny had battled, was penetrating the anomaly, driven by the desire to obliterate him from existence.

Sunny stood enveloped in absolute blackness, a cold perspiration beading on his forehead. He perceived something that instilled a deeper chill than the surrounding void. He attempted to invoke a surge of clairvoyance, to sense the subtle tremors of the future that invariably guided his path.

"It is unnervingly silent," Sunny breathed into the emptiness. "My divine Intuition ability... it is unresponsive. Not merely dulled, but entirely dormant."

A genuine wave of fear, a sensation he hadn't encountered since his mortal existence, surged through him. "Wait... how was I able to detect the presence of the Old Gods earlier if my intuition is non-functional within this domain? How did I perceive their essence when I was outside this sphere?"

The dawning realization struck him with physical force. The scent of the Old Gods had not been a discovery; it had been a deliberate enticement.

"Was I lured here?" Sunny vocalized, his words being absorbed by the suffocating darkness. "Did some entity or force manipulate my perceptions within this realm..... precisely to draw me into this zone of nullification?"

For the first time since commencing his odyssey, the Sovereign felt the frigid, sharp proximity of mortality.

He was no longer the pursuer. He was the pursued, ensnared in a meticulously crafted trap designed for a divine being's demise. He endeavored to summon his mana, but it felt as futile as attempting to ignite a match in a vacuum.

Each flicker of concentrated power he managed to muster was instantly consumed by the encroaching darkness, feeding upon his very intentions.

The fundamental laws governing this region were unraveling. The density of mana had plummeted to absolute zero, causing his incantations to dissolve before they could even take shape.

Even basic physical movement felt arduous, as if the darkness had transformed the void into a dense, resistant fluid.

"I have blundered into a charnel house," Sunny grasped, his hands trembling uncontrollably. "And the final rites are for me. If I cannot devise an escape from this domain, this time, I shall truly perish."