Chapter 41 You Were One of Us

A void portal opened directly above the Zenith Tower. From it, Victor Creed descended, landing on the crystal surface of the dome itself. Right in front of him, the five ranked Pro Wizards who had escorted Shota—numbers 11 through 15—stood ready. 

Mr. Shigeto’s voice called over their comms from the control room below.

 “Stop him! Do not let him breach the chamber!”

Victor didn’t even look at them. He gazed at the glowing chamber beneath his feet.

 “The energy in there… it’s fascinating. Not a drain. It's something else.”

Wizard #11, a woman whose body crackled with living lightning, spoke, her voice hard.

 “Stand down, Creed. You will not interfere.”

Victor finally turned his head and sighed.

“The Witch King himself just took a one-way trip across the city and you five think you can stop me?”

He moved. It was five separate movements happening in the same instant.

To the lightning wizard, he simply raised a hand. Her brilliant arc of million-volt current lanced toward him—and was swallowed by a void that appeared in his palm, snuffing it out without a sound. With the same motion, he backhanded her. The air cracked, and she was gone, a sonic boom marking her path as she was hurled out of sight over the curve of the Veil.

A gravity wizard (#13) tried to crush him in a field of multiplied weight. Victor snapped his fingers. The gravitational field inverted and shot the mage straight down, slamming him through the crystal surface of the Veil, leaving him embedded in the magical structure, unconscious.

A master of crystal blades (#15) unleashed a hailstorm of diamond-hard projectiles. Victor didn’t dodge. He flicked a finger, and a shard of reformed darkness punched through the mage’s shoulder, spinning him away with a cry.

The final two, a pyrokinetic and a telekinetic, attacked at the same time—a sun-hot firestorm contained within a crushing telekinetic bubble. Victor looked annoyed. He clapped his hands together once.

The firestorm winked out. The telekinetic bubble shattered. The backlash of broken magic sent both wizards reeling, clutching their heads, blood trickling from their noses.

The entire exchange took less than four seconds.

Victor straightened his coat sleeve, not even winded. Below, Mr. Shigeto’s frantic orders turned into a strangled gasp of terror over the open comms.

“S-tier? More like a joke tier,” Victor muttered to the unconscious and broken bodies around him, “A participation trophy for the modern age.”

He turned his full attention back to the chamber below. 

“Time to see what kind of miracle you’re trying to cook up in there,” he said softly, and raised a hand. Darkness gathered to obliterate the crystal roof separating him from the source.

Before Victor could bring his hand down to shatter the crystal, three figures shot up from below, intercepting him.

Instructor Arata landed with a gust. Enji hovered at his right, pink flame burning on his fist. On Arata’s left, Mirai stood ready, tungsten-carbide drills forming a deadly halo around her.

“Creed!” Arata shouted, “You will not take another step closer!”

Victor looked at the three of them. He slowly, deliberately, lifted his right foot. He held it for a dramatic second, then placed it down on the crystal surface a few inches forward.

He put a hand to his cheek in a pantomime of shock. 

“Oh, dear. Oops? I think I slipped. I took a step. What now? Are you going to scold me?”

He took another small, mincing step forward.

 “I took another one. The horror. Is the fiery puppy going to bark? Or does he remember what happened last time he tried to bite? And little Miss R.R. The drill-bit with a crush. Is your broken boy in there? Is that why you’re so eager to get shattered again?”

"Is this all just a game to you, Victor?" Arata asked, "All this destruction? The lives lost ten years ago, the lives being lost right now? Is it all just... a joke to you?"

He gestured at the city below, at the smoke rising from the kaiju attacks, at the broken Pro Wizards scattered around them. 

"Why do you do this?! You were one of us! A Pro Wizard! You stood where we stand! You swore the same oaths!"

"One of you," Victor repeated, "no, Arata. I was never 'one of you.' I infiltrated; I watched. I watched her. Lycoris. The woman. Yumi Akari. She was... the only real one. The only true Pro Wizard this rotten system ever produced. She wasn't just the strongest. She was the kindest. She did the impossible not for glory, but because it was right. She was hope, made flesh and magic. A light that didn't need a government mandate to shine."

He looked back at Arata.

 "Don't you see the profound boredom of it all? A goddess walks among ants. Where is the drama? The meaning? A story needs a conflict. A legend needs a monster. She was destined to be the greatest wizard. And I realized... the role of the greatest villain was vacant."

He took a step forward.

 "I didn't fall. I ascended. I consciously, deliberately, crafted myself into her villain. I gathered the forces of darkness not out of mindless evil, but as an artist gathers his paints. I orchestrated the attack ten years ago not as an assassination, but as the opening act of our epic finale. It was to be the defining conflict of our age—her ultimate victory, my ultimate defeat. Our names would be etched together in history forever. She would be the immortal savior. I would be the unforgettable villain."

His expression darkened. 

"And it was working. It was perfect. She rose to the challenge magnificently! She was everything I needed her to be! And then..."

He gestured violently at the decaying Veil, his voice rising with fury.

 "Them! Their pathetic, grasping system took my masterpiece and ruined it! They didn't let her have a clean, legendary death! They stuck her light in a jar! They've spent ten years draining her, commercializing her, using her corpse to prop up their own corrupt, fragile peace! They turned our grand tragedy into a... a public utility bill!

They robbed me of my place in history! They made her a battery instead of a martyr! They made my grand, villainous finale look like a technical malfunction!"

He pointed a shaking finger at the glowing Zenith Tower.

 "So now, I am no longer just the villain in the story. I am the editor. I am here to tear out this botched, shameful chapter they've written. I will destroy this sickening parody of her power. I will reduce their rotting government to dust. And when I am done, when the only thing left standing is my legend and the true memory of her strength... then the story will be correct. I will be the king who reigns over the ashes of the old world, and her ghost will be the only hero worthy of the name."

“You’re insane, Victor. You're out of your mind.” 

“I knew you would not understand me. Your mind is too small. You think in terms of missions and casualties. No matter. I know you don’t care about philosophy or legacy. You’re just stalling. Buying seconds for whatever pathetic miracle they’re trying to cook up down there. I'm just playing along.”

The last word hadn’t fully left his lips before he moved.

There was no blur, no warning displacement of air. One moment he was ten feet away, smirking. The next, he was simply directly in front of Arata.

Victor didn’t throw a powered punch. He didn’t summon darkness. It was a casual, sharp, back-handed swat with his closed fist, as if shooing away a persistent fly.

THWACK!

Arata’s head snapped to the side. The force lifted him off his feet and launched him across the curved surface of the Eternal Veil. He tumbled, a limp, spinning figure against the vast dome, before crashing to a stop nearly a mile away, not moving.

Victor didn’t watch him fall. He was already turning, his attention fully on the two remaining students.

“Now. Shall we see what happens when the guard dogs are put down?”

Before Enji could launch a furious assault or Mirai could strike, Victor was simply there. His hands shot out clamping like steel vices around their throats, lifting them both off the crystal surface of the Veil.

"You two. It would seem you are chronically incapable of understanding. I am not some 'regular villain' for you to chip away at. Last time we met, I was sure I demonstrated the gap. But either you two are profoundly dumb, or—"

FWOOSH-BOOM!

He didn't get to finish. Enji swung his restored arm. It was a close-range detonation of raw Pink Flame that erupted directly in Victor's face.

The explosion was a concussive sphere of blinding pink light and heat. For a moment, Victor's head was engulfed.

Then, he simply blew. He puckered his lips and exhaled a short, sharp puff of air. The Pink Flame was snuffed out like a candle, dissipating into harmless sparks.