Chapter 11.5

The chamber quaked. Zero didn’t move at first. He simply stood in the center, cloaked in smoke and molten air, the Veyrix storm rippling off his form in violent pulses. His head was low. His claws twitched. His breath was a low, ragged hiss — not from exhaustion, but pressure. Then—Snap. A sudden tremor shot outward. The floor beneath his feet ruptured, spiderwebbing in every direction. One of the Ember Vow elites blinked — and his torso exploded. No warning. No motion. Just force. Screams erupted. Zero lifted his head. Slowly. His one glowing eye sliced through the dark like a blade. No expression. No voice. Just intention. Then he moved. The walls shattered as he blurred forward, claws tearing through reinforced armor like silk. A second subordinate barely had time to raise a barrier — it melted, the heat atomizing his shield mid-cast. Zero grabbed his face. Slammed him down. Through the stone. No pause. He vanished again — reappearing above. A spiraling vortex of black-blue Veyrix coiled around his arm as he descended like a meteor. Impact. The explosion devoured the upper chamber. Bodies thrown. Metal twisted. The screams of the strong cut off in half-words. He spun — claws raking across a lieutenant’s neck. Blood sprayed in ribbons, vaporized midair. Another appeared behind him, blade drawn—too slow. Zero grabbed the blade mid-swing and snapped it in half with his bare hand. The ember-cloaked soldier stumbled back—And combusted. Without fire. Just pure will. Every living soul in that chamber felt it: this was not a warrior. Not a man. This was a storm wearing flesh. This was vengeance, given form. Above, the 13 watched — frozen. Even Voragoth stood still, unreadable. “He’s not hearing us,” one whispered. “He’s not there anymore,” another said, backing away. Zero lifted his head again. Reality twisted behind him. His body shifted, contorted — something inside trying to break out. Veyrix energy pulsed in jagged rhythms, like a broken heartbeat. Lightning licked the air around him in black forks. He raised one hand. The ceiling cracked. And then — with no sound — the upper chamber imploded, pulled inward by a gravity-like force so heavy it silenced even the air. The survivors couldn’t scream. Zero stood in the center of a collapsing storm. And he wasn’t done. Smoke coiled in thick ribbons around Zero’s body, dancing like living tendrils. The rubble that was once the chamber floated, suspended in midair. Screams had long faded — the only sound now was the groaning metal of the fortress straining under the weight of something it was never meant to contain. A heartbeat. Slow. Thunderous. BOOM. Then Zero moved again. He launched skyward, through the wreckage — a blur of black heat and raw energy — and came crashing down into the center of the council ring, where the remaining captains and lieutenants of Ember Vow had gathered, hoping to regroup. Too late. They didn’t see him. They just died. A swipe of his claw — five bodies shredded in a single motion. A wave of pressure followed, so strong it caved in the stone pillars around them. The council throne cracked in half. One captain tried to teleport away — Zero’s gaze locked on him for an instant, and his entire form froze in mid-phase. Then split down the middle. The pieces didn’t hit the floor. Zero had no expression. No breath. No emotion. Only destruction. A wall of flame rose to meet him — summoned by a desperate lieutenant. Zero stepped through it. Unaffected. With a backhand, he caved in the man’s skull against the wall, his helm snapping like glass. Blood sprayed up Zero’s arm, but he didn’t stop. Didn’t slow. Until… A hand caught his wrist. Voragoth. His face was calm. But there was tension behind his jaw. “Enough,” he said. Zero didn’t speak. He stared at him — silent, that burning eye never blinking. Then… he moved faster than light. Voragoth’s feet skidded back, gouging the stone beneath him. Their arms locked in place, claw against claw. Power surged between them — enough to level mountains. Cracks webbed out in every direction, walls detonating just from proximity. Voragoth’s eyes narrowed. “You’re not ready to challenge me.” Zero didn’t respond. But his power spiked again. The air screamed. Reality rippled. And for a split second — Voragoth’s hand trembled. That was when he realized it. Zen’s words, spoken long ago, now echoed in his mind: “If he ever awakens… and it’s not by his own will… then not even Seravain will stand a chance.” Zero broke the lock. And slammed his palm into Voragoth’s chest. The warlord was sent flying. Not thrown. Launched — across the entire fortress — smashing through layers of walls, chambers, and steel-reinforced pillars. Silence. Zero stood alone. His body steaming. Energy rising like a tidal wave. And far above, even Eldora’s skies trembled again