Overpowered Awakening: I Became Invincible With A Broken Talent-Chapter 178: The Film (3)
Ashton and Lyra completed their breakthrough trials simultaneously.
In the positions they had previously disappeared from, golden lights surged and erupted violently. The next second, the two of them appeared.
Instinctively, their eyes scanned their surroundings. First, to see if the monster had become active. After that, to see how their friend was faring.
But the scene that met their eyes made their entire beings tremble.
They had expected the worst from the beginning, yet the sight before them was far worse than anything they had imagined.
Not so far away from them stood Logan.
Or rather, what now remained of him.
A tall metallic rod had been stabbed through his being and driven deep into the ground, fixing him there like a pole.
His body had been dissected into a shape that no longer resembled a living creature.
The skin, flesh, and bone of his hands were cleanly split into two, one half angled upward and the other angled downward, resembling twisted wings.
His legs had been chopped into four clean sections.
Only a few thin strings of tendons held them together.
As the wind blew, they waved slightly.
His stomach bore a perfectly carved hole.
His internal organs spilled out in an inhuman manner.
Only his face remained intact.
His eyes were open but lifeless.
They were wide, as though he had just witnessed something beyond comprehension. They were red, stained by unbearable pain and trauma.
The same trauma that instantly transferred to the two newcomers.
"L-Logan..."
Ashton called out in a very low, barely audible voice.
His grip loosened unconsciously, and the sword slipped from his hand and fell.
His body trembled violently. His mouth quavered, and his eyes remained fixed on what was left of his best friend.
Beside him, Lyra dropped to her knees. Her hands fell limply to her sides in a defeated manner, trauma, fear, and sorrow overflowing in her moist eyes.
"Logan..."
Ashton called out once more, this time louder, almost as if he were casually trying to draw his best friend’s attention.
He took a step forward subconsciously, unfazed by the corpse of one of the teenagers beneath his foot.
Then he took another step.
His movements were sluggish, like a puppet being dragged forward by an invisible string, and that string was his friend.
It was as though he had not fully registered the scene before him yet. His mind was still trying to process it.
As he closed the distance, his pace gradually quickened as the gory reality finally dawned on him.
"LOGAN!"
His voice erupted with such rage and pain that it echoed throughout the streets.
"LOGAN!"
He broke into a sprint, stepping on corpses and splashing blood around, but he did not care about the mess. His eyes never left his friend.
When he finally arrived, he stared at him more closely.
He saw everything.
He smelled the blood of his own friend.
His gaze traced down the exposed internal organs.
They all looked fresh.
As though it had happened only moments ago.
Tears formed in his eyes, yet they did not fall.
His eyes reddened, slowly turning crimson with unfiltered rage and grief.
His head lowered.
He stared at the ground where his friend’s blood had pooled into a small puddle.
And then the tears finally fell.
They continued to fall.
His fists clenched tightly, his knuckles whitening as his teeth ground coldly against each other.
Memories of his friend surfaced one after another.
Each memory deepened his sorrow.
Each memory thickened his rage.
Far behind him, Lyra clutched her head and wailed loudly.
Her fingers dug into her hair as she cried, her appearance bordering on madness.
But it was not madness.
It was trauma.
The trauma of losing someone close. The trauma of witnessing true, unfiltered gore.
Her wailing grew louder until her voice cracked painfully, yet she did not stop.
At that moment.
CLAP
CLAP
Two loud claps echoed across the traumatically silent area.
They instantly drew the attention of the two friends toward their source.
Strolling casually toward them was a pale humanoid being, roughly six feet tall, with two black-golden horns rising from its head.
Its bright golden eyes resembled miniature suns. They glowed with intelligence and menace as it walked forward, a radiant grin fixed upon its face.
As they gazed upon its features, it released a fragment of its power into the atmosphere.
The wind seized at that instant, making breathing difficult for the two of them.
The beasts around them that were still alive submitted in their own ways. Goblins knelt. Foxes, wolves, and serpents lowered their heads.
A crushing submissive presence engulfed the two of them as well.
A presence that screamed at their bodies to submit or die.
Their knees buckled unconsciously, and the two of them collapsed to the ground.
The aurax grinned proudly.
As it continued forward, all the beasts in its path flattened themselves against the ground, forming living carpets. It walked over them like a king, its unique skin untouched by the filth and blood around it.
Ashton could not bring himself to meet its eyes.
The fear he felt the first time he tried was something he never wished to experience again.
He stared at its feet as it approached him directly.
His soul screamed at him to flee, yet his body had long become unresponsive.
He grit his teeth, helpless and enraged, though his rage was heavily suppressed so as not to provoke the approaching entity.
At that moment, he understood the truth.
With this being’s intelligence and overwhelming strength, it was the only presence capable of committing such a vile act on his friend with such precision.
Yet another truth was just as clear.
He could not challenge it.
Even a thousand of him would fail to graze the being standing before him. To resist would be nothing but suicide.
The aurax halted directly in front of him.
It reduced its power slightly so as not to kill him outright.
"My art... you enjoyed it?"
It spoke in a mocking tone, clearly referring to the corpse behind Ashton.
Ashton did not respond.
Fear wrapped tightly around his heart once more, even though the aurax was no longer releasing its full power.
"Lift your head and gaze upon my wonderful art piece."
Ashton’s body obeyed before his mind could even react.
He lifted his head.
His eyes met the lifeless gaze of his dead friend.
Grief and an indescribable storm of emotions flooded his entire being.
"I figured you humans are used to everything by now. So I created something new. From your reactions earlier, I can tell you love it. If you had not reacted the way I wanted, I would have been forced to carve you two up perfectly and create a more sophisticated piece, sadly without the presence of an audience."
The aurax spoke calmly.
Its tone carried an unfathomable level of pride.
The kind of pride only possessed by one who stood absolutely above all others.
It continued.
It praised its artwork, even describing the entire process in meticulous detail.
Using telekinesis, it dragged Lyra closer while continuing its explanation, describing each step in ways that were horrifyingly vivid.
Ashton’s heart felt like it stopped as he listened to the torture Logan had endured.
Unable to withstand the details, Lyra’s body weakened, and she vomited.
That act immediately drew consequences.
The aurax’s expression hardened.
It turned toward her.
"You do not like my artwork?"
It asked calmly. Though its voice was not loud, the rage and bloodlust behind it were unmistakable.
The two of them felt it and shuddered.
Lyra trembled violently and lost her footing, collapsing into a pool of blood as she looked up at the enraged aurax.
It repeated its question.
This time, she gave the only answer she could.
"I-I love it..."
"I cannot hear you."
"I love it!"
"Louder."
"I love it!"
"LOUDER!"
"I LOVE IT!"
"Good."
A smile returned to the aurax’s face as it turned toward Logan’s corpse.
"Kiss it."
Just two words.
The two friends fell silent.
Lyra shivered. Her blood churned in protest. Her soul screamed to escape, yet her body froze completely.
"He is your friend. Now he is more beautiful than he could ever be."
The aurax continued without looking at them.
"A beauty like this deserves to be admired, praised, and worshipped... like the great BEEP BEEP."
Its final words came out as distorted mechanical beeps in their ears.
The aurax continued speaking, mentioning the same censored words once more before finishing its speech.
"Kiss it now."
It commanded in a voice stripped of all emotion.
Lyra wanted to scream.
Seeing the corpse was already unbearable.
Listening to how it had been created shattered her mind further.
Being forced to admit it was beautiful felt like demonic torture.
And now, kissing it.
Kissing her dead friend who had been mutilated beyond recognition.
It was hell.
Yet this was only the beginning.
Her fate had turned into hell the moment she formed a bond with the chosen one.
And she was not the only one marked.
