MIGHT AS WELL BE OP Chapter 985: It Was

Lucian wasn't an idiot; he recognized that the backlash stemmed from activating his Fourth Wall Breaking ability. He'd brushed against realms that even ???, Romulus, and figures like them could never approach or grasp. No one could skim such heights of power without facing repercussions; a toll was unavoidable. And for him, that toll encompassed it all. He'd forfeited every bit.

Naturally, Lucian hadn't realized beforehand that this backlash loomed; in truth, he lacked even the finer points of the skill that sparked this crisis, much less the repercussions lurking under its use. His soul had merely informed him of holding an extraordinarily potent final resort, an unmatched ace, and that was the extent of the insight provided.

Yet now, having triggered it, clarity dawned on him. He grasped the complete scope of its essence and the utter gravity of its fallout. He faced payment for meddling with forces outside the limitless, past structures, beyond cause and effect, surpassing even the abstract layers ruling Existence, Reality, Law, Order, and Creation.

This raised a pressing query: had he foreseen the backlash before unleashing the ability, would he have proceeded? Absolutely. Lucian committed fully to every choice he embraced; doubt held no place in his nature. If death awaited, he'd accept it. If oblivion demanded tribute, he'd offer it sans remorse.

In those closing instants, his mind turned to his kin, to his mother, Vespera, who'd urged him against departing their home planet at twenty, citing their world's sufficient hazards, never mind the incomprehensible threats hidden in the wider Galaxy.

Next came his father, Riven, who'd backed his venture and insisted he venture forth, proclaiming that true men shunned fear of demise. Lucian cherished his family profoundly; words fell short in capturing that devotion.

'Can't they tell I'm fading away? They ought to be hurrying over, wailing and weeping beside my expiring form,' Lucian quipped inwardly, as inevitable and genuine Death couldn't erase his defiant wit. Yet unbeknownst to him, they were meant to arrive attempting his rescue; Klaus and the others should have shown up too. Their absence puzzled for the moment, though he dismissed pondering it at life's end, since guesses wouldn't sway destiny.

His reflections drifted to Veronica. He recalled their first encounter at the cafe; it sparked from a mere shared look between unknowns, a brief spark of interest, followed by endless chance meetings too frequent to ignore, drawing them into repeated proximity until fondness grew into an irrefutable bond, transforming them into partners.

Though numerous women had crossed his path before, Lucian had never harbored true love for any, evident even in his final breaths as he recalled none of them and focused solely on Veronica.

'Sigh... such a tragic woman. Her previous boyfriend fell to demons on a mission, and now her present one teeters on the brink from an ability's rebound,' he pondered silently, jesting once more, though he could vividly picture the heartbreak she'd soon face.

On Earth, the realm of his prior incarnation, if a woman lost two partners to death amid their bonds, observers would surely pinpoint her as the shared factor.

'Even beyond death, my love for you endures, Vero,' he reflected while kneeling, his frame too frail to stand, his life force all but snuffed out.

'I wonder if her previous boyfriend shared that sentiment right before the end,' he wisecracked yet again, chuckling in death's shadow, utterly unperturbed like a lunatic who'd surpassed all terror.

He lifted his gaze to the heavens, his existence replaying in his dimming sight. He recalled his Earth family from before reincarnation. He thought of browsing countless titles on the Webnovel app until discovering Might As Well Be OP.

He remembered sinking coins into it compulsively. He recalled his contest with Aaaninja, the fellow who'd rivaled him in the Milky Way Galaxy and now once more in the Acarnis Galaxy. Lucian couldn't resist noting yet another twist: he, Lucian, faced the end. In his earlier existence as Alex, death struck in the Milky Way Galaxy; now, as Lucian, it loomed again in the Acarnis Galaxy.

'How twisted,' he reflected, deriving grim humor from the pattern.

His stare turned to the vast emptiness of the Acarnis Galaxy as memories flowed from one to the next, each revisited with delight, levity, and affection, akin to leafing through cherished chapters.

'I really savored a flawless and joyful existence,' he considered. 'Shame I missed the story's conclusion, but at least I held the physical copy, and I'm certain no one else ever has,' he added mentally, a spark of pride lingering amid fading awareness.

Though fixed on the sky, Lucian's sight failed him; shadows encroached from the sides, leaving scant visibility.

'I wonder if Aaaninja faced any rebound,' he mused as thoughts returned to his timeless foe, a contest bridging two lives, two species, two worlds, two Galaxies. He offered a subtle grin at the epic scale of it.

[It seems we've reached the close of our path, Host]

The System's robotic voice resounded in his thoughts, the loyal ally present from his initial rousing until this point.

'It does seem that way,' Lucian responded with a subtle grin.

[I'll remain by your side, even through death, Host]

The System intoned once more, but now its synthetic quality carried a hint of fade, as if some part of it weakened alongside him.

'I know,' Lucian murmured gently, pondering what lay beyond in true demise. On Earth, he might have mulled paradise and perdition, but here he knew deities were just advanced cultivators, not ultimate truths.

'Though I've never voiced this over the century we've shared, and it might come tardily, but... thank you,' Lucian conveyed earnestly, extending thanks to the System that had steered and stood by him.

[...]

The System fell quiet, as if at a loss for words, as if grieved to merely witness its Host's passing without aid. But like all skills and powers in Lucian's arsenal, it too faced limits and could only faintly converse.

Abruptly, Aaaninja's remains, sprawled on the moon amid its blood, shimmered, then distorted like a glitch in existence. Moments later, the form dissolved completely. Lucian felt no shock; he'd anticipated this, curious why Aaaninja's revival delayed.

In the instant that followed, time essence quivered with apparent delight as Aaaninja rematerialized, appearing untouched by any beheading. His vibrant, timepiece-like, captivating eyes blinked awake, then fixed on Lucian, still on his knees, reduced to a mere shell, a hollow remnant of his past vigor.

None familiar with Lucian would credit this as the identical individual.

Aaaninja regarded his companion, taking in his state with unchanging demeanor, not from chill or grudge against Lucian Darkheart, but from his innate composure amid any crisis, no matter the stakes.

At last, his mouth opened to utter, "Was it worth it?" he inquired.

Upon catching Aaaninja's query, Lucian yearned to reply, yet lacked the power. He couldn't even twitch his lips, far less shape words. But that scarcely signified; summoning pure fiery resolve, he forced out a response to his adversary ere death overtook him fully.

"It was," he uttered, his tone feeble, soft, and raspy.

With those words, he shut his eyes and surrendered entirely to death's grasp.

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