Boom! Boom! Boom!
Amid deafening explosions, brilliant blue lightning shattered the underground sections of DEM’s Tengu City headquarters. The torrent of electricity tore through the soil, steel, and concrete, relentlessly burrowing deeper into the facility.
The roaring stream of thunder and electromagnetic destruction showed no signs of stopping until it reached the depths of the headquarters, lting through the reinforced bunker’s armored shell with pinpoint precision.
Drip... Drip...
Molten titanium alloy dripped from the ceiling, transforming into fiery orange streams of liquid tal that cascaded downwards.
Sizzle!
The searing drops landed on the luxurious wooden furnishings within the bunker, igniting them instantly. Flas roared to life amidst the destruction.
"Westcott, be cautious," Ellen warned, moving to shield him. Drawing the orange energy blade of her [CR-UNIT] Pendragon, she cleaved through the flaming debris, her expression tense as she peered toward the shadowy breach above.
"They’ve arrived."
THUD!
In the brief mont Ellen spoke, a pale, bloodstained figure in a white wedding dress fell through the ceiling, landing with enough force to crack and sink the floor beneath her. Blood flowed freely from her unmoving body, pooling around her in crimson streaks.
"She... is that... Tobiichi Origami?"
Origami wasn’t wearing an AST combat manifestation device. Instead, she donned what was unmistakably a Spirit’s Astral Dress—a pure white bridal gown.
Yet sothing felt off. Despite the close proximity, Ellen’s specialized Pendragon [CR-UNIT] didn’t register any spirit energy fluctuations.
Staring at the gaping wound in Origami’s chest, Ellen murmured, "In this condition..."
"There’s no mistaking it," Westcott interjected, his tone calm and contemplative. "A human transford into a Spirit... and then had their Spirit Crystal removed. She’s returned, hasn’t she? Still as elusive as ever... the First Spirit."
Standing behind Ellen, Westcott chuckled lightly, his deanor as relaxed as ever. Holding a glass of wine, he seed utterly unperturbed by DEM’s imminent destruction or the shocking transformation of humans into Spirits.
Finishing his drink in one gulp, Westcott discarded the glass and turned his gaze toward the ceiling breach.
"They’ve arrived."
"You certainly know how to recognize the tide of things. I appreciate that," a cold, commanding voice echoed as a regal figure descended through the breach. Illuminated by the orange-red glow of destruction, Selene’s form seed haloed in divine radiance.
Standing amidst the rubble, Selene’s lips curled into a faint smile as she regarded Westcott and Ellen. In her grasp dangled a petite figure dressed in a black-and-red Gothic dress—Kurumi Tokisaki.
Selene held Kurumi aloft by the neck, her petite body battered and bloodied, evidence of the brutal punishnt she had endured at Selene’s hands.
"Your planetary ritual of condensing leyline energy to create magical beings... that ritual intrigues ."
With that, Selene released her grip and casually flung Kurumi aside.
Thwip! Thwip!
Purple crystalline spikes embedded themselves into Kurumi’s body.
"Cough... Cough..."
Kurumi gasped in pain, collapsing to her knees, trembling as she clutched at the crystals. She glared at Selene with defiance, but her spiritual energy began to drain away, consud by the invasive crystals.
Stripped of her Spirit energy, Kurumi could no longer use her Angel, Zafkiel, or manipulate ti. Her most valuable asset had been sealed away.
Kurumi’s unique ability to create shadow clones and manipulate ti made her an especially troubleso opponent. Even for Selene, eliminating Kurumi entirely would require extensive effort and knowledge of her abilities.
Killing her main body wouldn’t suffice, as her clones could continue to function independently—a deeply vexing power.
Of course, if Selene were willing to abandon all restraint, she could obliterate Kurumi easily enough. Blowing up the planet, or even detonating the sun to annihilate the entire solar system, would leave Kurumi with no chance of survival.
Since Spirit power was fundantally tied to Earth’s leylines, without the planet’s energy, their abilities would beco rootless, powerless illusions.
Selene’s decision to seal Kurumi’s powers and keep her under close watch was the most practical solution at the current stage.
"Nightmare?" Ellen’s purple eyes narrowed as she scrutinized the fallen Spirit. There was no mistaking her. "And it’s the real Nightmare, not a clone..."
As the world’s most powerful wizard, Ellen could discern at a glance that this was Kurumi Tokisaki’s true form, not one of her nurous shadows.
"Even the most elusive and enigmatic Spirit, Nightmare, with her unparalleled survival abilities... captured so effortlessly?" Ellen exhaled softly, showing no sign of resistance as she retracted her energy blade and gazed at Selene.
"Your Majesty, what do you intend to do with us?"
Through DEM’s private surveillance systems, Ellen had witnessed the blue-armored giants and their mortal auxiliaries as they advanced, chanting war cries like "For Selene’s Glory," "For the Empire," "For the Empress," and "Victory to the Divine Empress."
It wasn’t hard to deduce that this invading interdinsional civilization was an imperial state governed by a monarch with actual power.
Selene’s self-proclamation as "We" and her opulent attire left no doubt—she was of the highest authority. Addressing her as "Your Majesty" was undoubtedly correct.
Selene paused, her expression contemplative, before replying with intrigue, "What I do with you... depends on your performance. But first..."
Her tone shifted abruptly as she extended a delicate finger. A crimson gleam flickered within her diamond-shaped pupils, cold and unyielding.
"Kneel."
Purple-red light exploded outward, unleashing a terrifying repulsive force.
The air was filled with a suffocating roar as a visible shockwave radiated outward. Beneath Westcott, the reinforced flooring sheared away, and he fell to his knees. Blood dripped from his nose, mouth, and eyes.
"Calculating the terms of surrender while scheming against ?" Selene’s voice dripped with icy disdain. "You’re not as clever as your companion."
Though frad as a question, her tone was absolute.
Locking her crimson gaze on Westcott, the warmth of her earlier deanor vanished entirely, replaced by an overwhelming aura of dominance, tyranny, and authority.
"When the disparity in power is this vast, even the slightest miscalculation will bring about your utter destruction."
Tailoring the response to the person, adjusting tactics to their stage of developnt—it’s the sa principle.
Westcott had yet to obtain the foundation of his transcendence: the reversed Spirit Crystal of Honjou Nia. In Selene’s eyes, he was less than an insect, barely a speck of dust in the atmosphere, a fleeting mayfly.
Were it not for his current usefulness, Selene would have already killed him.
"I... I will obey, Your Majesty!" At that mont, Westcott felt as though he had been cast into an icy abyss. Every cell in his body scread in anguish.
The pressure from Selene’s presence was like an imasurable mountain weighing on his shoulders. Suppressing the tremors in his voice was already a herculean feat, a testant to his imnse willpower.
As Selene shifted her deanor, the chasm-like gulf between their power beca vividly clear. rely eting her gaze and hearing her words filled him with a bone-deep dread.
This celestial ruler was incomparably powerful, far beyond even the terrifying First Spirit.
"Hmph. Just this once, I’ll spare you. Your survival has its purpose. Your knowledge is the reason you are alive—not the reason for you to negotiate. Now, co with ."
Snap!
With a snap of her fingers, violet light enveloped everyone within the bunker, including the motionless corpse of Tobiichi Origami.
Whoosh!
As space twisted and shifted, a profound sense of weightlessness overwheld them. When their eyes opened again, they found themselves standing on what seed to be a boundless expanse of "ocean."
"This... is...?" An inexplicable feeling of familiarity surged in Westcott’s heart.
"The center of the Eurasian continent. It was here that you used the Spirit ritual to create the magical lifeform, Mio Takamiya. Now, you’ll do it again."
Selene’s cold voice pierced through his reverie, snapping Westcott back to his senses. "This is where, thirty years ago, Elliot, Ellen, and I..."
"Westcott, I require the Kabbalah Spirit Ritual for experintation. Do not resist—open your mind."
Before he could respond, Selene acted decisively. With no room for defiance, a pale violet claw of imaginary constructs materialized in her hand and clamped onto Westcott’s head.
"Ugh..." Westcott’s connection between mind and body was severed. His eyes glazed over as he froze in place.
Selene had no urgency to extract Westcott’s knowledge of magic or his research into Manifestation Apparatus: Realizer.
Keeping him alive as a tool was far more useful. As an Empress, she had all the ti in the world to exploit him, to enforce a relentless "007" or "715" work ethic.
Selene’s secondary consciousness invaded the hippocampus of Westcott’s brain, skimming through his life’s mories like flipping through a slideshow.
"Interesting... so he’s a pure-blooded wizard?"
Westcott was no ordinary person. He, along with Elliot Baldwin Woodman, Ellen Mira Mathers, and Karen Nora Mathers, had originated from an isolated village that preserved the pure lineage of wizards.
Wizards in this world weren’t rely the creators of modern combat Manifestation Apparatus or the wand-wielders of fairy tales. Instead, they were practitioners capable of performing "miracles" through specific rituals.
In a society dominated by ordinary humans, wizards were deed heretics. To escape persecution, they lived in seclusion. But one fateful day, their village was exposed.
When Westcott was ten years old, his village suffered a devastating bombardnt at the hands of humans.
Everyone in the village was slaughtered, save for the young Westcott (aged ten), Woodman (aged eleven), Ellen (aged seven), and Karen (aged seven), who barely escaped.
Watching their village consud by flas, the four swore vengeance against humanity.
However, a fundantal difference lay between them: Woodman, Ellen, and Karen grieved over the loss of their ho and loved ones, while Westcott harbored a peculiar sense of exhilaration.
Inwardly, he rejoiced. The tragedy had granted him a righteous excuse for revenge, a reason to kill, and a pretext to enact slaughter.
Perhaps, deep down, Westcott had always been dissatisfied with the plight of wizards. Why should the noble-blooded wizards be forced into hiding, living like outcasts because of lowly commoners?
The massacre of his kin rely provided him with justification for his disdain.
"Hah, a natural-born villain." Selene mused. "If I’ve recruited him under my banner, what does that make ? The savior of villains?"
Shaking her head with a wry smile, Selene continued delving into his mories.
Afterward, Westcott persuaded the survivors to delve into their clan’s legacy of magic. During this ti, they founded D.E.M. Corporation. One of their crowning achievents was the developnt of combat Manifestation Apparatus.
Their ultimate breakthrough was the Spirit Ritual, the process that gave birth to the first magical lifeform: the Spirit.
In the end, they succeeded.
The First Spirit was born. And predictably, both Westcott and Woodman fell hopelessly in love with her angelic form, captivated by her transcendent beauty.
"Vengeance against humanity... a love triangle between friends and a magical lifeform... Hah, what a lodrama."
"I’ve gotten what I need. Your petty romances don’t interest ."
Selene chuckled with amusent before retracting the imaginary claw. Westcott crumpled to the water’s surface, utterly drained.
"I still need Woodman’s mories. Let Robert bring him in. For now, this will suffice."
After issuing her orders to capture Elliot Baldwin Woodman, chairman of the Fraxinus Round Table, Selene crouched and touched the endless expanse beneath her.
"Activate. Deploy."
Whoosh!
In that instant, the remnants of the Spirit Ritual in the area lit up, glowing with a pale azure luminescence.
"It needs a catalyst."
Looking down at the array of patterns glowing beneath the water’s surface, Selene gestured. The lifeless body of Tobiichi Origami sank into the depths.
With a calm expression, she retrieved the Spirit Crystal she had extracted from Origami’s chest, crushing it into fine powder. The glittering dust scattered into the ritual’s luminous core.
Selene’s toes lightly grazed the water’s surface, unleashing a torrent of dense violet Honkai particles.
"Corruption."
The intricate ritual patterns transford under the invasion of Honkai energy, shifting from a tranquil azure to an eerie violet-red.
The lines of the array seed to co alive, pulsating wildly in the otherworldly glow.
Selene closed her palm, a golden ring flashing within her crimson pupils.
"Kabbalah Life Tree Ritual—Honkai Revision!"
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