Previously on Global Gods : Skill-Resonance Awakened...
Sunny absorbs numerous multiverses into his soul, expanding his Inner World and replenishing his power. Meanwhile, Allegra is introduced to the God-Maker Realm, a dimension where time flows much faster, allowing her to train and strengthen her abilities. In the Demonic Realm, the remaining Demon Lords are in disarray, suffering memory loss and metaphysical breakdown after Deimos's death. They decide to shift their focus from Sunny to the thief Lom.
While Sunny was blissfully weaving the threads of hundreds of multiverses into his soul and Allegra was undergoing her century-long physical metamorphosis in the God-Maker Realm, the atmosphere within the Real Void had transitioned from frantic to sheer bewilderment.
Within the resplendent halls of Lady Sansa's palace, the palpable aura of the Beyonder's presence had abruptly vanished. It was as if a dark cloud had been violently scoured from the sky by a sudden, powerful wind.
"Father, the Beyonder is gone," Sansa stated, her voice remaining steady despite the lingering hum of adrenaline in her veins.
She observed her father's face, which was deeply lined with the worry accumulated over a century, condensed into mere hours.
She understood that while she had successfully negotiated for a year of time, a father's heart could not simply rest easy. To Samson, every second his daughter's world remained under siege was a second spent envisioning her utter ruin.
"What?" Samson's voice rumbled, a low boom of utter disbelief. Without awaiting further explanation, he directed his gaze toward the coordinates of Sansa's inner world.
Although no one, not even a High Royal, could scrutinize the specifics of another's soul-space without explicit permission, a Beyonder's Aura served as a loud, unmistakable stain upon the void.
Samson extended his senses, searching for that distinct vibration. He detected nothing. The space surrounding the bubble was clear, resonating only with the healthy, rhythmic pulse of Sansa's own life-force.
He released a breath he seemed to have held captive since the crisis initially began, his shoulders finally relaxing from their defensive posture.
"Your Gods are truly exceptional, Sansa," Samson declared, his voice thick with a palpable mixture of pride and genuine astonishment. "They managed to neutralize a Beyonder, a race that the High Court regards as an existential peer to our own strength. To accomplish this without any external intervention... it is simply unheard of."
"It is solely due to your teachings, Father," Sansa responded with a soft, melodic chuckle, effectively concealing the frantic beating of her own heart. "I merely applied the principles of resilience you so diligently instilled in me."
"Heh! If that were truly the case, my own inner world would not have necessitated my direct intervention the last time a minor scavenger managed to breach the veil," Samson retorted, his eyes gleaming with evident admiration. "Your lifeforms are indeed special, Sansa. They possess a spark that I haven't witnessed in eons."
He paused, his brow furrowing slightly as he noted the diminished size of her inner world.
"However... I have observed a significant discrepancy. Even after the Beyonder's aura vanished, thousands of multiverses within your bubble have been... removed. It appears as though they simply evaporated into thin air. Was this the creature's final act of spite? Did it consume them before its demise?"
Inside Sansa's mind, her thoughts raced at an accelerated pace, akin to a thousand times their normal speed. As a High Royal, her intellect functioned like a sophisticated quantum engine.
In a mere fraction of a second, she mentally simulated a hundred different potential excuses. Should she attribute the disappearance to the Beyonder, her father might become concerned that the creature still existed in some altered form and would feel compelled to delve into her world to finalize its destruction. Alternatively, if she blamed a spatial anomaly, he would undoubtedly summon a team of professional Nihilum members to conduct a thorough inspection of her soul-core.
She could not possibly reveal the existence of Cosmos. Not yet. To disclose her nephew's presence now would inevitably trigger a cascade of questions she was entirely unprepared to address; questions concerning his origins, his forbidden bloodline, and the very reason she had kept this Chosen One concealed from the family for such an extended period.
Meeting her father's gaze directly, she selected the only remaining path available: the truth, albeit artfully veiled.
"Father," she articulated, her voice imbued with a quiet yet burning conviction. "I am unable to provide you with the specific details regarding those lost multiverses at this precise moment. However, I implore you to place your trust in me. It was not the doing of the Beyonder, nor is it a loss that causes me harm. On the contrary... what transpired with those worlds forms the very foundation of my future. It represents a profoundly beneficial evolution."
Samson regarded his daughter for a prolonged, silent interval. He perceived the unyielding fire in her eyes, a resolve that painfully echoed her mother's spirit.
He did not detect the shifty gaze of deception; instead, he recognized the guarded secret of his own daughter. He moved towards her, placing his heavy, warm hand atop her head with a tenderness that caused her throat to tighten.
"I believe in you, my daughter," Samson whispered, drawing her into a brief, protective embrace. "Whatever you are endeavoring to build, do so with unwavering pride. Your father shall forever serve as the impenetrable shield at your back."
Sansa offered a smile, a genuine ray of warmth piercing through her underlying anxiety. However, her attention was suddenly captured by a subtle movement. A distinct, cold, and familiar presence was approaching the entrance. Her smile did not falter; rather, it became more pronounced, sharpening with awareness.
"Ah, Verion," she remarked as the door smoothly slid open. "You may return to your dark rifts now. The issue has been satisfactorily resolved. The Beyonder has been... dealt with."
"No way?" Verion's voice was like silk stretched over a razor. He entered the hall, his eyes immediately zeroing in on the space where Sansa's inner world was tethered.
Like Samson, he felt for the Beyonder's signature. Upon finding only the clean, violet hum of a healthy bubble, his pupils contracted into thin, reptilian slits.
He turned his gaze to Samson, his face a mask of suspicion. "Elder Samson... I was under the impression we were to move as a unit. Did you decide to act alone?"
"Don't look at me like that, young man," Samson replied, a smug grin appearing beneath his glowing mustache. "I didn't lift a finger. My daughter's lifeforms handled the threat while we were busy debating in the hall."
Verion almost choked on the thin air of the palace. His mind reeled. He had guided that Beyonder personally. He knew its powers.
For Cosmos to kill a Beyonder was a feat that defied every law of the Real Void. He turned his gaze to Sansa, his expression shifting into a hollow, practiced mask of congratulation.
"Incredible," Verion whispered, his voice dripping with fake honey. "Truly, my beloved, you have nurtured a miracle. I would dearly like to know the details of the combat. Perhaps I can train my own Demon Gods to emulate such efficiency."
Samson, oblivious to the hidden daggers in Verion's words, simply patted his daughter's shoulder one last time. "I will leave you youngsters to your celebration. Time is a great healer; perhaps this victory will bring you two closer."
With a final nod, he vanished into a ripple of white light.
The moment Samson was gone, the temperature in the room dropped thirty degrees. The mask fell from Verion's face, leaving behind a cold, lethal arrogance.
"Enough games, Sansa," Verion ordered, his voice echoing with the authority he used on his demon slaves. "How did that mongrel Cosmos manage to kill a Beyonder? Who helped him? Did you smuggle an artifact from the Royal Armory into your world?"
Sansa leaned back against a marble pillar, crossing her arms. She let out a long, loud laugh that echoed through the silent hall.
"I don't believe I am obliged to give you a single scrap of information, Verion. And besides... shouldn't you be more concerned with your own world? Didn't you feel it? The snapped thread of Discord?"
She tilted her head, her eyes sparkling with amusement. "Your favorite creation, the Lord of Discord... he's dead, Verion. Or as close to dead as a Lord can be. What are you going to do now that your best guard dog has been turned into stardust by a mongrel?"
Verion's face turned a violent, bruised red. The aura of the Demonic Realm flared around him, causing the floorboards to crack and hiss. "Do not be so confident, Sansa," he hissed, his voice trembling with suppressed rage.
"Even if he slew that beast and humbled Deimos, it changes nothing. The bubble is still a cage. I will have his head, and I will have yours, the moment the Court looks away. He is a fluke. And flukes are eventually crushed."
He turned on his heel, his cape snapping like a whip as he stormed out of the hall, his breath coming in ragged huffs of fury.
"Heh... we will see," Sansa whispered to the empty room. But as she stood alone, her smile faltered. Verion was the monster who had engineered the death of her sister and her brother-in-law. His threats were not empty; they were physical weights.
She maintained her amused expression for the sake of the walls, but inwardly, she was already praying for Sunny to grow faster.
While the royals bickered, the Old Freaks of the High Courtroom, the ancient elders who spent eons observing the balance of the Real Void, were going through their own cycle of shock.
"Those two are exceptionally efficient," one elder whispered, leaning over a pool of scrying water. "They resolved such a big crisis in less than an hour. Verion and Samson are a formidable pair."
"And yet, look at the displacement," another elder noted, pointing to the flickering dots on the map of Sansa's world.
"Thousands of multiverses have still vanished. I suspect the Beyonder's hunger was more ravenous than we initially estimated. It must have consumed those worlds before it was struck down. We should note this as a failure of our early detection."
But as they spoke, a new ripple appeared on the map. In the silence of the bubble, another multiverse suddenly flickered and vanished, the unmistakable signature of a beyonder eating or destroying a multiverse.
The courtroom went silent.
"Wait," the Head Elder said, his eyes widening as he leaned forward. "Is the Beyonder not dead? How is it hiding its aura while still feeding? This is impossible!"
"It might be a secondary infection after all?" another voice chimed in, laced with rising fear. "Could it be some kind of parasitic Beyonder?"
"No premature conclusions!" the Head Elder firmly stated. "We will await confirmation from Verion and Elder Samson. Should this displacement persist, a full quarantine of the entire bubble might become necessary."
Unbeknownst to them, the very parasite they feared was currently situated upon a dazzling throne of violet starlight, reveling in the integration of its latest acquisition.
Sunny, blissfully unaware of the palpitations he was inducing in the highest echelons of the Real Void, was far too occupied savoring the exquisite taste of a thousand newly acquired multiverses.
