The Bird was a perfect being.
In truth, the Bird couldn’t quite rember when exactly it’d had the epiphany. It had been a morning much like any other. His legions of monsters road the land, living in harmony with the enlightened who had co under his rule, their morning sermons preaching his glory.
It wasn’t just ego, either. Truly, the skills the Bird had gained over the years were unparalleled. A body that could physically regenerate endlessly, as well as restore its pneuma reserves with nothing more than exposure to sunlight, obtained through the fusion of several skills alongside leveraging decades of accolades to alter or obtain further skills for the skill fusion.
Then there were his attributes, focused almost entirely upon flexibility and pneuma. Too agile to ever be caught off guard by any attacks that could actually do enough damage in a single strike to pose a real threat. Pneuma reserves to augnt his solar regeneration and skills.
Finally, the crown jewel, the ultimate in magic.
Arcana Magick.
Magick perfected for the sole purpose of dueling opponents of similar strength, countless alpha variant monsters, even powerful alpha variant monsters, had fallen, fueling his ascent. Each level built upon the next, summoning reflections of himself that beca more and more real with each arcana aspect invoked. Upon full invocation, eight perfect copies of itself, each representing a full respawn, even in the off chance that sothing were to slay him in one strike.
There was only one form of magic or skill that could be problematic: domains. Yet, even then, only a full domain would ever be a threat. Thankfully for the Bird, Full domains were used by only the very strongest territory alphas, the sort of monsters that the Bird wisely left alone; no amount of fodder would be enough to prevail in such battles.
In the future, perhaps domains would be more common, sothing to overco. But at the very least, from the Bird’s own testing, a full domain was impossible for anyone of his tier. By the ti they beca sothing to worry about, the Bird was confident he would have already solved the problem, figuring out a proper counter, if not having a domain of his own.
Truly, the Bird was a perfect being.
The Bird was feeling uneasy.
Things were not going as planned. Or rather, the Architect was a foe he couldn’t figure out.
Sothing was off; he was up to sothing. The dial behind his back was a rather obvious giveaway, but what exactly the Bird wasn’t certain of.
Even before the odd dial had appeared, the attempt at ambushing him had failed when unexpected allies had appeared, the Vanguard and another extrely potent monster appearing in his ti of need.
Already, the Vanguard had dealt with the wave boss that they’d painstakingly prepared a asure to control. Thankfully, the asure that the Vanguard had employed seed to have put her out of commission, leaving the only real threat the fellow monster that had appeared.
She was powerful, frightfully so. If the Bird had to make an estimate, she wasn’t far off from his own level, that of a Founder.
But she was also preoccupied; her nature as a viper ant she seed to be enjoying the slow act of consuming her prey, even if her prey hadn’t yet realized it was decidedly over. Wasting so much ti, by the ti she thought to co to the Architect’s aid, his Arcana would be fully invoked, at which point it wouldn’t matter.
And so, the only threat in the sky to deal with was the Architect.
So why?
Why did he feel so uneasy?
After fighting for as long as they had, the Bird knew that the Architect was skilled in magic, second only to himself. Then there were the weapons he could summon from nowhere, detonating their very conceptuality like bombs that had no value to him.
Had it not been for the perfection of his skills and his attributes, the Bird feared that the Architect would have been too powerful a foe to defeat.
Yet as uneasy as the Bird felt, victory was still certain as soon as his Arcana was fully invoked, eight perfect copies for a total of nine Birds acting in perfect synch with one another; slaying him would require slaying all nine of them at the sa ti. That was the supre power of Arcana magick.
While each reflection exhausted a large amount of his pneuma reserves, his pneuma reserves were restored shortly after, as each reflection increased the pneuma-restoring effect of sunlight by increasing the number of bodies and the pneuma they shared.
By the fifth body, the unease of the Bird had slackened to nearly zero, even if the full might of the Architect’s fortress village turned upon him, with five reflections and six total bodies sharing and restoring pneuma together, defeat was impossible.
It was just a matter of finally putting down the Architect for good.
And yet, that was easier said than done. The Bird, while uncertain of the details, had a vague sense that the Architect was still capable of the sort of attacks that could extinguish one of the reflections or his main body in a single strike. Until all eight reflections had been invoked and the life-sharing was in effect, the Bird would continue to play it safe.
After all, while the Architect was up to sothing, the probability that it would be superior to a fully invoked Arcana was zero.
Six.
Six reflections, the Architect was struggling to keep up, the constant assault of seven total bodies, and the constant usage of magic would have easily overwheld the Voice by now, even giving the benefit of the doubt of reaching tier eight.
Seven.
Seven arcana reflections invoked, certain victory was near. The Architect was bleeding profusely from countless slashes through his body by the razor wings of the reflections rushing him or their terrible rending claws. Relying on what must have been an affinity for blood, he continued to fight on.
Pointless.
The only thing that made sense to the Bird was Stigmata. The Bird could scent out a whiff of Stigmata from the man, unsurprising given he ruled such a large village, rather, a city itself. The Bird did not doubt that the Architect must have ruled as so God-king; it was simply in the nature of those with power.
Yes, yes, that makes sense.
It would explain why he needed ti, ti for the Stigmata generated to reach a fever pitch, before he would draw it all inward.
Foolish.
The Bird was well-versed in Stigmata at this point, infusing his followers with Stigmata every day and refining it into Feathers of Brilliance to empower them. It was a powerful force, but there was a limit to how much one could harness in a single mont. With all eight Arcana reflections invoked, it would amount to nothing but a final stand burning out in a blaze of glory.
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Perhaps he would be able to even knock out several reflections at once with a truly spectacular attack, but it wouldn’t matter.
Eight.
“Aspect of the End – The World.”
Speaking the final Arcana invocation, the eighth and final reflection was invoked as the Bird felt his lifeforce shared. As long as even a single body remained, he could not die, no matter if it was the main body and seven reflections.
“You fought well,” The Bird said, all worries extinguished. “But victory is mine. Surrender now, and the needless bloodshed shall end. I will even offer a final chance at survival, bind yourself with one of my Feathers of Brilliance, and you will be allowed to live.”
“Oh, really? Because I have no shot at winning anymore?” The Architect said, for the first ti, sighing as if he’d realized his ti was up.
“If it would please you, I will even allow you to make your final gamble.” The Bird announced, feeling magnanimous. “Unleash the Stigmata you’ve been waiting to crescendo. Even with the strongest attack you can muster, it will not matter. My Arcana is complete, my divinity awakened.”
And then the Architect said sothing that made the Bird’s blood run cold.
“Stigmata? Is that what you thought I was waiting on?”
A miscalculation? No, no, a bluff.
It didn’t matter what he was on about; with his Arcana complete, it wasn’t as if the Bird was about to turn tail and fly away just because the dial behind him was just about to-
Act! Act now!
His honed instincts as a monster suddenly scread of danger, warning signals blaring.
No, it shouldn’t have been possible.
Act! The subconscious instincts seed to scream in his mind.
The Bird couldn’t recall the last ti he’d felt such a strong sense of danger, and perhaps it was that slow reaction that proved his downfall in the end, or maybe it never really mattered to begin with.
Ascending into the sky as quickly as he could, all eight reflections plus his main body ford a circle as he channeled an attack that would extinguish not just life from their foe, but everything below. If it obliterated the city, in the end, it didn’t matter; such was the degree of danger that the Bird suddenly found itself overco by, his self-preservation discarding all thoughts of future logistics.
It wouldn’t matter if he died, after all.
“Grand Arcana Art: Nine-Fold Descending Light!”
Such was the power manifested that a peak tier eight would have been in mortal danger; even a tier nine wouldn’t want to take the attack casually. A pillar of light over ten miles across had appeared, before instantly folding inward, condensing into a single beam only as thick across as a tree trunk.
Yet, before the beam could do more than smite even a fly, it simply fizzled out of existence.
What?
It wasn’t possible. Moving that much pneuma was sothing even the Bird could do only with all nine bodies working together, and after it was in motion, even with all nine, it would have been impossible. The sheer density of the energy should have made it impossible to disrupt by ordinary ans.
How?
The answer was found in the Architect, the dial having completed its countdown, his hands brought together in a strange hand sign.
“Liminal Realm of Cognition: Open.”
Day had turned to night. Except, it wasn’t night, it wasn’t anything that the Bird had words to describe. Reality had been upended, the fabric of existence replaced with sothing else: a realm where every thought that had ever been and ever would be existed in harmony. Or at least that was the impression that the Bird felt as the conceptual significance of the realm seed to press down like the weight of a world upon his wings.
“Paraters are a hell of a thing,” The Architect said. Even without layering aura into his voice, the words reached the Bird instantly. “You should understand, given you seem like you’re even better with magic than I am. Speed is the easiest one when weaving magic. Sprinkle in the concept of speed, and presto, your magic moves faster, but it also loses a lot of oomph, or vice versa. Size works as well, though that’s often more about regular physics applying. Location, that’s one I’ve ssed with; remaining in a single spot is a serious parater boom but rarely a practical one. But you know my favorite? Ti. Put a tir on sothing and tadah, instant parater boom. But that wouldn’t have been enough.”
It was as if the entire lecture had happened instantly, sothing that the Bird was mystified by; ti had seed to cease to exist as anything but a singular point.
“The next was denial. You’re right, I could feel all that Stigmata bubbling up, people putting their faith in their ‘Lord Founder,’ and I’ll admit, it was tempting, but I couldn’t see it providing the answer I needed, or not the guaranteed answer. So instead, I turned it around. Rather than concentrating it for use, I denied it, another parater set up, all that fun give and take interplay.”
“Third, were actual physicallimits. Simply put, I used the walls of Ehkorrus as a natural anchor point. A rather insubstantial parater, all things considered, but when it was parater number three of several, well, you understand.”
The Architect began to pace, and for all his injuries, and for as superior a position that the Bird had with his fully invoked Arcana, it was clear as day who was really in control.
“Forth: you. I purposelyslowed my tir so that youcould pop your ace move first.”
Coming to a stop, the Architect smiled, like a Cheshire cat playing with a mouse.
“Fifth, and final. Construction. I sealed my signature form of magic, projection magic. Instead, I focused all that energy into my ntal Palace, building all this up until it was ready.”
Sweeping his arms around, the Architect continued to grin.
“A fully realized domain. My win.”
Ti seed to flow again, and instantly the Bird turned around, all nine bodies darting in different directions as fast as they could.
How? A full domain should be impossible! There is too much information overload for-
“Enchain.”
The words seed to echo everywhere at once, as all eight reflections and the Bird’s main body were tethered together and yanked back toward the Architect.
“See, a domain is less about magical skills than ntal skills, so much processing is hell on the mind,” The Architect said, raising two hands as he did, a small circular crystal appearing above each outstretched palm. “I’ve ssed around with domains for so ti now, but I’ll admit even for this is a first that I’ve busted out such a developed domain. Turns out not all fully realized domains are created equal, you know?”
The two gems seed to shift as the Architect did sothing with them.
“I probably could have tried this sooner, but I feared that Enchain would wear off too quickly if it weren’t done within an active domain,” The Architect prattled on as the two gems continued to morph, one feeling like a bottomless pit that reality itself was pulled toward, the other an inexplicably zero point, a genuine point of nothingness. “I would say I’m thankful for how cautious you played things, but then had you not played things cautiously, I probably could have been more brazen myself. After all, for every action there is a reaction.”
“Perhaps a deal can be made,”The Bird said. It was trying its best to disrupt the chains that had bound its main body and eight reflections together, and had it not been within a domain, the Bird was certain he would have already broken free without issue.
“Nah,” The Architect said with a casual shrug. “Anyway, let’s not get into the thick of cliches, alright?”
The two points converged, as a paradox was born, another chill passing through the Bird’s normally burning hot body.
Oblivion.
The Bird had only encountered that form of energy a handful of tis, and it was always an alarming encounter, an energy that simply didn’t care.
The paradox point, which had birthed the oblivion energy, almost lazily drifted toward the bound Bird and its reflections.
With nine bodies’ worth of solar regeneration, perhaps I can- wait, my connection to the suns!
With how sudden the shift in tides had been, the Bird hadn’t even noticed that within the Architect’s domain, it couldn’t feel the rejuvenating light upon its feathers.
No. No, it can’t end like this! I’m the chosen of the Great Mother.
The faith that he was chosen by the Great Mother was enough to establish a connection; the Bird could feel the Great Mother entering his mind, where she would gift him the strength to-
“Are you an idiot?” A voice suddenly scolded, a voice that the Bird had heard whisper in his dreams, urging him to continue growing. “I don’t have a damned ‘chosen,’ and I never did. You’re just like anyone else in the ascension rat race. Except, perhaps, more delusional than most.”
And just like that, the connection was cut, as the Bird was forsaken.
No!
The oblivion, the ambassador of his doom, continued closer.
“No!” The Bird cawed out, nine voices in unison, unable to muster the aura to inject within a hostile domain. “I am Chosen! I am the one who will-”
Before another word could be spoken, they were washed away in the null light, the light to erase light, the resulting explosion of oblivion made just large enough to completely encompass the Bird and all eight of its reflections.
Notice: The First Faction of the Architect and the Vanguard have slain all leadership figures of the Fourth Faction, led by Born of Brilliant Feathers
Result: First Faction Total Victory
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