Crack!

The Spirit King’s head lay splattered beneath him, yet Atticus was numb. No thrill. No excitement. Just... silence. Such that he hadn’t even registered Ozeroth’s shout. The world seemed different somehow.

A vortex didn’t open up for the Spirit King. Instead, his body twisted inward, condensing into a blazing radiant purple fragment. It glowed so brightly it seemed like a beacon to the world.

Atticus stretched a hand towards it.

"Bond, wait!"

Ozeroth lunged forward to stop him, but Atticus wasn’t listening. Before he could even make contact, the fragment shot into him.

Dense waves of purple surged through his body like a churning sea. Atticus felt warmth flood every part of him, followed by the hammering emotions of Solvath. They were stronger than anything he had ever felt before.

And then they vanished.

Atticus watched the purple wave surge through his thread-like body before gathering within his tattoo. It pulsed brilliantly, forcing everyone present to shield their eyes.

When the light dimmed, Atticus felt... new.

He felt one with the world. Like all energies were his own. Like he could combine or separate anything in existence.

He felt like a god.

Atticus exhaled, then snapped his fingers. In an instant, millions materialized across the Ruined Planes.

Ozeroth, the Pride Queen, Ozerra and Whisker swept their gazes across the crowd, confusion flickering across their faces.

"Fragment bearers." The Pride Queen muttered a moment later.

The others’ expressions darkened. The Spirit King had killed every fragment bearer in the Third Crown. Which meant... with these numbers...

Fragment bearers from across the middle planes.

A streak flashed through the world.

None of them saw it. Not Ozeroth, not the Pride Queen, neither Ozerra nor Whisker.

Millions of heads toppled from their shoulders. Bodies crashed to the ground. Dead.

Ozeroth’s eyes narrowed as he looked at Atticus. He had killed them all without so much as blinking. Men, women, elders, even children.

He grit his teeth.

"Bond..."

Somehow, he didn’t like how Atticus felt right now.

Countless fragments emerged from each corpse and surged into Atticus. He lit up in a blinding light before it eventually subsided.

Atticus’ tattoos had spread. Purple markings now covered his face, arms, and entire upper torso. The weight of his presence was overwhelming. So much so that none of them could move.

Atticus lifted his gaze.

He watched Ozeroth and Whisker’s expressions tighten as they met his hollow eyes. They held no emotion. No warmth. The Pride Queen and Ozerra regarded him warily.

Atticus did not care.

He raised his arm and purple light flared around it. The next moment, two orbs formed before him.

Sinew, bone, then flesh mended together. The figures of Anorah and Thora gradually took shape.

"W-what... what is this?"

"...fucking hell! That hurt!"

Both of them gasped for breath as they collapsed to their knees. They looked up, then froze. Atticus’ hollow gaze rested upon them.

"A-Atticus?" Anorah squinted, shock filling her eyes. Thora immediately fell silent. She knew how to read the room... this was not the time to speak.

"I’ve extracted the fragments from both of you. You’re free now."

Atticus’ voice held no emotion.

The only reason he’d been able to bring them back was because their souls had remained within the fragments. The others, unfortunately, had no such luxury.

Atticus turned away from the stunned Anorah and faced the horizon.

She opened her mouth to call out to him, but he ignored her. He felt the eyes of everyone on him. He ignored them.

He only saw the world.

His connection to it had intensified, reaching levels he had never thought possible. He still couldn’t feel Solvath within his mind, but he had access to every power.

He could see things he had never seen before. Understand relationships he had never understood before. The changes also involved his will.

Judgment Flame.

He had become a flame that naturally judged all people. Turning enemies to ash while leaving loved ones unharmed.

Solvath’s power granted him access to the world on a molecular level. He could interact with the universe, with its creations, through his power of harmony. Now, Solvath had granted that same privilege to his Judgment Flame.

It meant he could use his will to interact with anything he could now perceive. Burn relationships. Burn anything. During his journey, Atticus had gone through numerous stages when it came to using Solvath’s power.

He had learned how to merge elements. From there, wills. Now, his existence had been elevated to the extent that he could touch something even more fundamental.

Concepts.

Atticus lifted both arms and the world froze.

"Destruction."

A dark crimson orb formed before him. The air seemed to collapse in its presence. The ground beneath it withered into nothingness.

"Growth."

Another formed on the opposite side. The air around it came alive. Flowers bloomed across the ground. Leaves unfurled from nothingness.

Earlier, he could merge elements, then wills. Now, he could touch upon the concepts of the world. That from which all things originated. Ideas. He could fuse them into his will and allow it to take on their nature.

The concept of Destruction erased. The concept of Growth evolved. Combined...

They formed an energy that endlessly destroyed and endlessly grew.

"Bond!" Ozeroth shouted. He, along with the others, had felt the shift. Their expressions darkened. Something enormous was coming.

"...what are you about to do?"

Atticus answered without turning back.

"I’m burning down the world."

The concepts fused.

Reality warped, the erupted. A crimson tide swept through the world.

Ozeroth, Anorah and the others instinctively braced themselves, but it passed through them harmlessly. Their expressions only darkened further. The same luxury wasn’t afforded to the world.

The earth beneath them began to dissolve into nothingness, forests, mountains, kingdoms, people, revenants... Everything the tide touched ceased to exist.

The concept of Growth fed Destruction, making it endless. Unending. It continued to spread until it encompassed the entire Third Crown. Then it pushed onward until it reached the barrier between the Third and Second Crown.

It stopped. But only for a moment. The energy evolved, growing stronger and stronger until it shattered the barrier and spilled into the Second Crown.

Then it continued its advance. Anorah, Ozeroth, Whisker and the others found themselves hovering amidst a sea of nothingness.

The Third Crown had ceased to exist... just like that. They could see the tide spreading through the Second Crown. In moments, billions would be dead and the Second Crown gone.

It was now they truly understood Atticus’ words.

He was going to burn down the world. Literally!

Atticus heard their shouts, their screams. They wanted him to stop. They saw the total annihilation of the Middle Planes as too much. To Atticus, it was necessary.

He was done holding back. The stakes were higher than ever. He had to reach the peak and bring his people back, no matter what he had to do. No matter what was necessary.

The trillions of worlds and lives would be absorbed to ensure his ascension into the Higher Planes was absolute. Unhindered.

This was necessary.

Suddenly, Atticus’ gaze sharpened. The tide that had been about to swallow the Second Crown had... vanished.

Before anyone could react, golden light engulfed him, then he disappeared.

Atticus appeared within an endless stretch of blackness.

"I told you he was bad news. I said it from the beginning. Look where we are now."

The voice sounded thoroughly irritated.

"That’s enough, brother." Another, calmer voice replied. "It’s not too late. We can still talk this through."

"Tch! Right, because that worked so well the first time."

It was the Span and Verge. Both had transformed into their respective forms. Verge, a massive armored humanoid wreathed in blazing light with six pairs of eyes. The other was a large furry creature with oversized eyes and chubby cheeks.

The Span stared at him with open contempt, while the Verge regarded him with caution. Then both looked upward, where a lone giant figure sat calmly upon a throne.

He was entirely golden. Handsome, with flawless features that looked carved rather than molded. A blazing golden crown rested upon his head, so vast it seemed capable of dwarfing a planet. One cheek rested against a fist as he calmly regarded Atticus with an unreadable expression.

Atticus needed no introduction. He was the strongest star, overall ruler of the middle planes...

The Absolute Crown. 𝘧𝘳𝘦ℯ𝓌𝘦𝒷𝘯𝑜𝑣𝘦𝓁.𝒸𝘰𝓂

Yet despite standing before three Stars, the three great rulers of the Middle Planes, Atticus remained indifferent.

The Absolute Crown didn’t seem to be in a rush, taking his time studying him. Several moments passed, then his golden eyes glinted.

"Do you know why I ask every god to reach for the Crown?"

His voice was surprisingly soft, melodic even. Atticus had just ravaged nearly half the Crown, yet there was no trace of anger on his face.

Atticus didn’t respond.

"Because I believe... only the worthy have the right to ascend to the Higher Planes. Someone incapable of standing above the gods has no right to stand among those above them. Only the absolutes can. Only the absolutes have the right to decide."

The Absolute Crown lifted his head from his fist.

"I am the absolute here. The Crown. The Span. The Verge. The entire Middle Planes. I rule it all. Everything bows before me. And yet you... you want to destroy this world? My world? You..."

The Absolute Crown laughed. A booming sound rolled across the entire Middle Planes. Worlds shook. Territories trembled. The hearts of countless beings thundered in their chests.

The laughter gradually faded, leaving a cold smile on the Crown’s face.

"Ahh... it seems you need to be taught why the Absolute Crown is called absolute."

The Crown rose. The Middle Planes trembled.

"Brother, w—"

The Great Verge froze beneath a single glance. The Crown turned his attention back to Atticus.

"Every god who manages to dominate the Third Crown eventually faces me. You can only ascend to the Higher Planes if you defeat me."

A smile slowly spread across his face.

"I think this is good. I want to kill you. You want to ascend. Let’s make a game of it."

"I will begin."

The Crown was already before Atticus, his golden crown glinting with harsh brilliance.

His hammer descended like judgment.