Beyond the Apocalypse-Chapter 1034: No battle, only escape

"You... bastard!"

Eternal Puppeteer spat the words with unrestrained hatred, his voice cracking as blood streamed down his face. The axe was buried deep within his skull, its divine edge lodged between shattered bone and alien flesh. The strike had been his own—returned to him in the cruelest way imaginable.

At the decisive instant, Vlad’s Celestial Eyes had opened a spatial portal directly in front of the descending axe. The weapon’s head vanished into the rift, only to reemerge a heartbeat later above the Alien Lord himself. There had been no time to react, no chance to evade.

Vlad’s eyes bled as he severed the portal, space collapsing inward with a shriek of distorted reality. The axe’s handle was cleanly sundered, the edge left buried in the Alien Lord’s brain.

Without hesitation, Vlad drove his black blade into Eternal Puppeteer’s stomach, piercing through layers of corrupted flesh and alien reinforcement. With a surge of wrathful power, he lifted the abomination into the air, impaling him like a grotesque offering to the heavens.

"NOW!"

The single word rang across Valhalla like a commandment.

An overwhelming aura flooded the skies, drowning the battlefield in divine pressure. Space trembled. Reality groaned. Then, as if responding to a higher authority, a figure manifested above the ruins.

Overlord had arrived.

The A.I. Chip Clone appeared before even Jormungandrt. He had not been absent—he had been waiting. Concealed, calculating, preparing. And now, the moment he had predicted with absolute certainty had come.

A divine sigil ignited between Overlord’s hands, forged from pure law and celestial authority. Countless godly portals burst open through Heaven’s Gate, layering atop one another in impossible geometries. Gold, white, and azure light twisted together, forming a vast construct that eclipsed the sky.

"Destruction and Creation.

Death and Birth.

Burn my soul.

Consume my blood.

Reforge!"

Overlord roared the incantation as thousands of portals fused into a single, colossal gateway. Blood poured from his eyes, nose, and mouth as his body strained against forces meant for those above the Lord Tier. The air screamed as one of the strongest god weapons in existence was forcibly summoned.

"Rise—Longinus!"

A spear of absolute judgment descended from the heavens.

The weapon Metatron himself had wielded against the Dream of Madness—shattered during that primordial clash—was reborn. It fell like a pillar of divine wrath, sundering space-time and tearing through reality itself as it plunged downward.

Eternal Puppeteer’s eyes widened in genuine terror.

He struggled with everything he had, alien power exploding outward in chaotic waves, but it was futile. With an axe embedded in his skull and a blade impaling his core, even an Alien Lord could not escape.

"ZNNNNNNNN!"

The sound was horrific.

Longinus pierced straight through Eternal Puppeteer’s chest, annihilating his heart and erupting from his back with such overwhelming force that the backlash tore through Vlad’s left arm, reducing it to shredded ruin before the spear embedded itself deep into the ground. The Alien Lord was nailed, pinned like an insect beneath divine law.

Vlad clenched his teeth as pain tore through him, yet even then, a grim smile formed on his lips.

He could feel it.

Longinus was not merely destroying the physical vessel—it was eroding the soul, unraveling the ego, dismantling the very concept of Eternal Puppeteer’s existence. Every second, the god weapon devoured more of what made the Alien Lord him.

Vlad wrenched his blade free and rose into the air, blood trailing behind him. Overlord appeared at his side, his form flickering. He was exhausted, his energy nearly depleted. Vlad himself barely had the strength left to begin reforging his missing arm.

Yet both of them could see it.

"We won," Vlad said quietly.

Overlord nodded once.

Then they froze.

Eternal Puppeteer was dying. His aura was collapsing, his form unraveling. And yet—his eyes suddenly widened, and a broad, unhinged smile spread across his blood-soaked face. Blood bubbled from his mouth as laughter escaped him.

"Hahahaha... I have tricked and schemed with billions of lives across endless worlds," he croaked. "Who would have thought... that I would even trick myself into this?"

Vlad frowned, unease tightening his chest.

"I need to finish this," he said, tightening his grip on his blade.

But before he could move, Overlord seized his shoulder and pulled him back, dispersing Longinus instantly.

"BOOOOOOOM!"

Less than a second later, a colossal burst of darkness erupted from Eternal Puppeteer’s collapsing body. The explosion was immense—and it was not alone.

Across Valhalla, five more pillars of the same dark energy surged skyward.

Vlad’s gaze snapped toward them, dread flooding his mind as realization struck. Each pillar rose from the exact locations where Jormungandr and the others had slain the corrupted children of Antorus.

A deep frown etched itself onto Vlad’s face as the pillars grew stronger. Lines of dark energy shot outward, connecting one pillar to another. Slowly, unmistakably, a massive pentagram formed—with the ruined capital of Valhalla at its center.

"Xaos King!"

Eternal Puppeteer’s voice echoed once more, no longer bound to flesh.

"This is my greatest scheme. My finest creation. A ritual so intricate that even I tricked myself into forgetting it. It is too magnificent not to be understood—so listen."

Vlad’s heart sank.

When an enemy explained their plan, it was because it could no longer be stopped.

"This world is connected to the dimension of the Primordial Gods," the Alien Lord continued. "So I twisted its nature. By sacrificing the blood of countless innocents—and corrupted alike—I bound it to my home."

Each word carried terrifying clarity. Even Overlord—cold, logical, emotionless—felt something akin to dread ripple through his core.

"But that was not enough," Eternal Puppeteer said softly. "So I took one final step. By shedding the blood of five innocents at the hands of divine warriors recognized by this universe, I forged the key points."

The eye on Vlad’s forehead widened in shock.

The sons of Antorus had been corrupted beyond salvation, their souls trapped and screaming. Killing them had been mercy—but mercy that fed directly into the Alien Lord’s design.

"And finally," Eternal Puppeteer whispered, "by sacrificing myself, I forged the final component. The key needed to break the barrier between our worlds."

A sense of unrestrained thrill emerged from the Alien Lord.

"I will die now. But it is worth it... if this universe is finally silenced."

With those final words, the last stream of spiritual power flowing from Eternal Puppeteer finally faded, marking his true end. His presence—so vast, so malignant—vanished as if it had never existed. Yet the victory was hollow.

The massive formation covering all of Valhalla did not weaken. Instead, it grew more violent, more complete, its runes burning brighter as if celebrating the sacrifice that had sealed its activation.

Vlad’s eyes widened slowly as the truth settled into his mind.

He had played directly into the enemy’s scheme.

Eternal Puppeteer had never shown even the slightest sign that everything was a trap—not because he was confident, but because he had forced himself to forget. That was the cruel genius of it. By erasing his own awareness of the ritual, the Alien Lord had ensured that every struggle, every desperate attempt to survive, was genuine. Even at the end, when Vlad had cornered him, Eternal Puppeteer had fought with real fear and resistance.

But in the end, dying here had been exactly what he wanted.

"RUMBLE!"

The ground beneath Valhalla shuddered violently. The sky fractured with deafening cracks as the massive pentagram completed itself, its final lines snapping into place. From its center, space tore apart, giving birth to a colossal portal—one that did not lead merely to another world, but to a realm of absolute darkness and annihilation.

Beyond it lay the Alien Domain.

A tide of monstrous figures surged forth immediately. Abominations of twisted flesh, warped laws, and corrupted existence marched through the portal without hesitation, their mere presence poisoning reality. The air screamed as their forms entered the physical plane.

Vlad did not even have time to issue an order.

Overlord reacted first.

The A.I. Chip Clone overcame the shock almost instantly. His wings flared open as engines of divine force ignited, and he moved without hesitation, seizing Vlad as he launched toward the void. The portal to the Alien Domain had been fully forged—and unlike the unstable gateway on the Zanis Homeworld, this one could not be sealed.

There was no battle to be fought here.

Only escape.

Fortunately, the lesser abominations pouring from the portal were not fast enough to intercept Overlord. The two shot across the ruined sky, tearing through space at maximum output. For a fleeting moment, it seemed they might succeed.

Then reality buckled.

An overwhelming force descended upon them, freezing space itself. Vlad and Overlord were locked in place as if existence had clenched a fist around them. The pressure was indescribable—something far beyond the power of any Alien Lord they had faced before.

Slowly, dread rising in their cores, they turned their gaze back toward the portal.

Something else was emerging.