At the heart of the Ultras Continent,
the barren ground lay in ruins after a cataclysmic battle between a demon... and a human.
In the end, Zibar was the one left standing.
"With that, the game ends, Wesker."
Zibar’s voice was grave as he turned his back on the place where Frey Starlight lay buried.
"Time to bury this wretched planet—wipe out the low forms of life that crawl on it. After that, everything will be consigned to oblivion."
Step by step, Zibar walked away ..
not even glancing behind him.
He stopped when he heard a sound.
Something was moving ..something crawled out from the rubble and returned to the open, slowly, very slowly.
At first Zibar didn’t believe it. He didn’t want to believe it.
Even so, he turned ..slowly, painfully slowly.
Behind him, a man pulled himself free of the debris; only his lower half had emerged at first, his upper body still swallowed by shadow.
"I’ll admit it... I didn’t see this coming."
Zibar sighed in annoyance and drew his blade again.
"What kind of cockroach are you, Frey Starlight...?"
He didn’t finish the sentence .. his eyes flew wide and he froze.
Frey stepped fully into the light at last. Bare-chested, with that same body ..
there was no trace of the wound Zibar had dealt him. No trace of any wound.
But that wasn’t what paralyzed Zibar with dread.
It was the piece of metal on Frey’s face.
A mask .. plain, black, and metallic ..yet its presence alone made a Demon of the Tenth Rank take an involuntary step back.
"Impossible..." Zibar muttered, appalled.
The figure before him
walked forward at an unhurried pace, then stopped and lifted his gaze to the clear sky, the clouds all scattered by the last clash.
With darkened eyes, he stared upward, giving Zibar no heed.
Then, at last, he spoke.
It was Frey’s voice .. but somehow, it wasn’t.
"A long, strange dream..." Fresh chapters posted on n͟o͟v͟e͟l͟f͟i͟r͟e͟.net
He sounded a little dazed, Dark Sister in his right hand, Balerion merged with his left.
"A dream where I lived a different life... where I felt so many things .. anger, sorrow, joy, love, hatred..."
His hand pressed slowly to his chest; he lowered his head.
"And now I wake from it, only to find those poisonous feelings still burning inside me, splitting my heart. What kind of curse is this?"
Zibar answered the question with one of his own.
"You... what are you?"
The man finally looked at him.
Those eyes .. where white should be, a cold, ashen gray had spread.
"You ask who I am? I’ll answer," he said, voice low, lifting his hands.
"But first .. what is this primitive form?"
With a flick of irritation, he raised his left hand to the sky.
Balerion, the black blade, melted, turning liquid ..
a black substance that wrapped his left arm, shaping itself into a plated, onyx gauntlet that sheathed him to the shoulder.
It was uncanny .. metal that hard, dissolving so easily.
Then, just as simply, he tossed Dark Sister into the grasp of that armored left arm and took the sword in that hand.
The motion was simple .. but the instant Dark Sister was held by Balerion ..
The void... shuddered.
The air... grew heavy.
And Zibar’s face... became a tombstone.
Zibar spoke in disbelief as Nameless tilted his head.
"That’s the name you chose to give me of your own accord .. but you’re not wrong."
As he said it, Nameless took a single step forward.
Zibar, in turn, took several steps back.
"Impossible! I saw the King kill you with my own eyes! You’re bluffing!"
Clutching Katarina’s Sword, Zibar unleashed his full aura .. an overwhelming pressure that shook the mountains and threatened to tear the place apart.
Nameless didn’t so much as flinch beneath it.
"I don’t know where you got that mask, Frey Starlight... but you’re not walking out of here alive!"
At light speed, Zibar streaked forward, a shroud of darkness blazing around him, aiming to end it in a single blow.
It was speed on an entirely different plane .. the same speed Frey couldn’t even see before.
But this time... things were different.
In less than an instant, a deafening blast rippled out ..
an explosion born from the air being cleaved so fast the void itself detonated.
And in the next fraction of a second, Nameless stood behind Zibar.
Zibar’s hand .. and Katarina’s Sword with it hit the ground, cleanly severed.
The demon’s face twisted in horror. He whipped around at maximum speed ..
and stopped dead as a slim hand clamped over his face, a strange aura sinking into him and locking him in place.
Nameless was fast ..so fast Zibar couldn’t even react.
Hoisting him into the air, Nameless stared through the slits of the mask.
"How odd... my movements feel sluggish. Dull."
He glanced down at his own body, visibly annoyed.
Zibar could only curse as the scope of the disaster hit him.
’Sluggish? Did he just say that speed... was sluggish?!’
Zibar nearly lost his mind.
There was no room left for doubt.
Weakened far below his zenith though he was, the figure before him was, without question... Nameless.
Memories surged through Zibar’s mind—old, pitch-black recollections of that masked monster who had visited ruin upon demonkind, who slaughtered the High Ranks as if crushing insects.
Realizing the truth, Zibar’s body erupted with a violent darkness as he tore free of Nameless’s grip.
In the very next instant, he bolted, fleeing at absolute top speed.
Even if this was only a clone, the terror was so absolute that flight was the only sane choice left to him.
"I have to run! I don’t stand a chance against him!"
"Only the King and the First Seat can fight that thing! No one else!"
Even at that speed ..
Nameless appeared in front of him out of nothing.
"Where do you think you’re going?"
Zibar’s maw yawned wide and monstrous toward Nameless.
From that hellish aperture he spewed a beam of cursed breath, a ravening ray that swallowed the void .. and Nameless along with it.
The blast was colossal, erasing everything in its path.
"He’s not as strong as he used to be... this should at least hurt," Zibar muttered, certain of a close-range hit.
But from within the beam and the wreckage,
Nameless emerged without a scratch, Dark Sister reversed in his grip as a guard.
"Whether it’s you... or the owner of this body... neither of you understands how aura truly works."
He raised his blade slowly, with a heavy motion, and his entire form darkened to a cursed, coal-black sheen.
"Allow me to show you, demon .. what real aura manipulation is."
With perfect control, the familiar violet of Frey’s aura vanished.
In its place came a different color ..
a pitch-dark shade that poured ice into Zibar’s veins.
Shadow Adaptation: 4/7
Fourth Stage: The user can now wield the Black Hole Aura .. a supremely potent, hazardous aura attained by Nameless upon perfecting his power. He is the only one capable of using it.