(Planet Granada, Leo’s POV)
Leo hovered silently above the violent seas of Granada, his breathing uneven as he quietly huffed and puffed, trying to maintain control over his body while the storm raged endlessly beneath him.
The waves crashed violently against one another, rising and collapsing in chaotic rhythm, as the dark waters stretched endlessly in every direction, their surface alive with restless motion and hidden force.
Yet despite the chaos below, Leo focused on his task.
He extended his hand outward and collected the seawater upward in controlled streams, as it flowed into the specialized vessels created by the Cult Craftsmen, each one designed with precision beyond ordinary workmanship.
These containers were not simple storage units.
Once sealed, they preserved whatever was placed within them at the exact temperature and pressure at which it had been collected, ensuring that even the most delicate properties remained untouched over time.
It was the only way to safely transport something as valuable as the waters of Granada, as whatever secrets these waters held, it would be stupid to lose them over improper storage methods, as even the slightest imbalance could ruin their value entirely.
*Glop*
*Glop*
Minutes passed, and Leo continued collecting.
Litres upon litres of water flowed upward, filling vessel after vessel as he worked in silence, his movements steady despite the growing strain within his body.
However, even as he stayed pletely still, something felt wrong.
The victory that he had just secured felt distant, almost meaningless, as the overwhelming pain radiating from his severed finger refused to fade, its presence constant and suffocating.
His head felt light.
The blood loss had begun to take its toll, as his vision wavered slightly while the storm around him seemed to blur at the edges, the world itself losing clarity.
"It’s just a finger..." Leo muttered under his breath, as he tried to steady himself, forcing his thoughts into something practical, something grounded.
"If I get back quickly, the medics might still be able to reattach it..." he continued, his voice quieter now, as though trying to convince himself more than anything else.
"They can scrape off the affected flesh... remove whatever the Origin metal has tainted... and fix the rest..."
The thought lingered.
Fragile.
Uncertain.
Yet Leo held onto it regardless, as he continued filling the containers, refusing to slow down despite the dizziness slowly spreading in his brain.
Five thousand gallons.
That was the number he stopped at.
It felt sufficient, as anything more was most likely not something the Cult would need for the next two thousand years, as with a controlled motion, he sealed the final vessel.
*Lock*
The mechanism locked instantly, preserving the contents within, as Leo ensured that every container was secured properly before allowing himself to pause for even a second.
Then, without wasting another moment, he raised his hand.
*SLASH*
The space before him split open.
*FWOOSH*
A dimensional portal formed, its edges shimmering violently against the storm as it stabilized into a passage that led back home.
However, just before stepping through, Leo turned once more..... His gaze searching for Mauriss, who still sat not far away at the game table with a smile on his face, as though he had just witnessed something deeply entertaining.
"Until next time then.... Cult Master."
Mauriss said, as he smiled wider.
And although it was one of the most disgusting smiles Leo had ever seen, he still forced himself to smile back as he gave Mauriss a dry laugh.
"Ha—"
A mirthless chuckle escaped him.
Not out of humor, but out of sheer exhaustion, as he shook his head faintly before turning away without another word, as he stepped into the portal and left Granada behind.
—---------------
(Meanwhile, back inside the Time Stilled World, Shadow Number One’s POV)
Leo had been gone for only a few minutes, and yet with every passing second, Shadow Number One felt his unease deepen, as a quiet anxiety began to coil within his chest.
Leo had given him clear orders on what to do if he did not return, and yet, Shadow Number One did not know for sure as to what he would do if his Lord really died, as his thoughts began to drift toward darker possibilities.
If Leo failed to return, the consequences would be catastrophic, as the current Cult was far from being stable enough to endure another sudden shift in leadership.
As too many pieces were still in motion...
Too many plans remained unfinished, as the generational dream of revenge and universal domination relied heavily on Leo’s continued existence to move forward without disruption.
Without him, everything would slow.
Decades of preparation would be forced into delay, as the Cult would need to regroup, reorganize, and rebuild its momentum before it could even consider advancing again....
And that delay could potentially stretch into centuries, as the thought alone was enough to make Shadow Number One flick his tail anxiously behind him.
*Flick*
*Flick*
"I hope the Lord is fine...."
He muttered, as just as the tension reached its peak, the space beside him suddenly tore open.
*FWOOSH*
A dimensional portal formed nearby, its edges distorting the air around it as Shadow Number One’s eyes snapped toward it instantly.
Leo stumbled out.
His figure unsteady, his breathing uneven, as one hand clutched a severed finger while the other bled freely, crimson dripping steadily onto the ground beneath him.
For a brief moment, Shadow Number One’s tail wagged in relief.
Then it froze.
The sight of Leo’s injury registered fully, as the initial joy vanished instantly, replaced by sharp concern that overtook his expression without hesitation.
"Medics, now!" Leo ordered, his voice strained yet manding, cutting through the air with urgency that left no room for delay.
Shadow Number One reacted immediately.
He pulled out his munication orb and began issuing rapid orders, his voice sharp and controlled as he relayed the emergency to every available medical unit within range.
Within moments, movement followed.
Footsteps echoed through the halls as a team of medics rushed into the chamber, their expressions focused as they prepared themselves to assess and treat the damage without wasting another second.
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