Beyond the Apocalypse-Chapter 1035: The White Death vs The Master

A massive entity stepped through, horns rising into the sky like a crown, its presence alone crushing the hordes beneath it. Alien abominations were obliterated simply by being in its way, erased as though they had never existed. Its humanoid body embodied absolute authority and control, a walking convergence of law and annihilation.

Even more terrifying—

It was missing a hand.

Vlad’s breath caught in his chest.

"The Master..."

The name escaped his lips in disbelief.

This was no ordinary Alien Lord. According to the A.I. Chip’s highest-level analyses, this being stood beyond the Paragon Realm itself—an Empyrean. A sovereign existence that ruled not worlds, but entire hierarchies of reality.

The Master fully emerged from the portal, its colossal form dwarfing mountains. Its gaze locked onto Vlad and Overlord with cold, unmistakable intent. There was no fury in those eyes. 𝘧𝓇ℯ𝑒𝓌𝑒𝑏𝓃𝘰𝘷𝘦𝘭.𝒸ℴ𝓂

Only judgment.

The Empyrean extended its remaining hand toward them, reality screaming as space collapsed inward, ready to erase the two intruders and exact retribution.

Vlad and Overlord unleashed every remaining ounce of power they could muster, pushing their bodies and cores beyond safe limits in a desperate attempt to break free from the spatial lock forged by the Master.

Space itself had been seized and crushed around them, transformed into invisible chains that ignored distance, momentum, and even intent. It was not a matter of mastery over the Law of Space; it was just power!

No matter how violently they struggled, the lock refused to yield.

They were simply too exhausted.

The battle against Eternal Puppeteer had drained them to the brink of collapse.

The Master’s massive hand continued to descend, each passing moment warping reality more severely. Space folded inward, compressing entire layers of existence as if they were nothing more than paper.

Then—

"BOOOOOOOOOOOOMMMM!"

A colossal explosion of white flames detonated against the Master’s hand.

The blast struck with such force that even the Empyrean’s arm was driven backward, his advance halted mid-motion. The white fire did not behave like ordinary flame; it burned without heat, erased without consuming, and radiated a purity so absolute that it momentarily disrupted the Master’s control.

Vlad and Overlord felt the spatial lock weaken.

Without hesitation—without even exchanging words—they burned everything they had left. In a single explosive burst, they shot toward the highest reaches of the sky and escaped into the Void Between Worlds.

The suffocating pressure vanished.

For the first time since the portal opened, they could breathe.

Floating within the endless darkness of the void, Vlad and Overlord absorbed its raw, formless energy, stabilizing their shattered bodies as they turned their gaze toward their savior.

Of course, there was only one being in the universe capable of unleashing a white explosion powerful enough to halt the advance of an Empyrean.

Alexandro.

The strongest human in existence.

The Emperor of the Graecia Empire.

The White Death.

His figure hovered calmly near the boundary of Valhalla, white flames dancing around him like a living mantle. The duo immediately performed deep bows of gratitude. Without his intervention, there was no doubt they would already be dead.

Alexandro nodded in acknowledgment, his expression grim. He turned his gaze toward Valhalla—and what he saw made even him tense.

The world was being drowned.

Abominations continued to pour from the portal, spreading across the Viking realm like a cancer. Alexandro had faced the Master before. He knew exactly what kind of entity they were dealing with—and he knew that the stakes could not possibly be higher.

Entropy manifested around his form, thickening the air and scorching reality itself. Space warped, colors distorted, and entire fragments of existence dissolved near him, unable to withstand his presence.

The Master turned his gaze toward the human.

The cosmic phenomenon wearing mortal flesh.

A being capable of incinerating worlds.

Yet the Empyrean’s expression did not change. His eyes held not even the faintest trace of worry. He was ancient beyond reckoning, a ruler of laws rather than armies, wielding power that could twist the fabric of existence itself. No matter how many opponents appeared, he was certain of his supremacy.

Just as he prepared to rise into the void—

"RUMBLE!!!"

The void itself trembled.

This tremor was far greater than the one that had accompanied the opening of the portal to the Alien Domain. It did not originate from Valhalla—but from existence itself.

Yellow lightning erupted across the void.

Their presence alone filled Vlad, Overlord, and even the White Death with profound dread. That power was overwhelming—enough to kill them all many times over without effort.

Yet its target was not them.

It was Valhalla.

The Viking world had become such a twisted anomaly—corrupted, violated, and connected to forces beyond its rightful place—that it had awakened the wrath of the universe itself.

The lightning descended.

Arc after arc struck Valhalla’s surface, pulverizing vast swathes of abominations into nothingness. Entire regions were erased, reduced to dust. The universe itself was attempting to purge the contamination.

The Master watched this with complete indifference.

The deaths of his kind meant nothing to him.

However, his gaze sharpened as several arcs of yellow lightning converged, merging into a single, catastrophic bolt. The resulting blast descended directly toward him, carrying enough power to annihilate entire star systems.

Planting his feet firmly into the ground, the Master threw a furious punch.

Fist and lightning collided.

The resulting explosion shattered the skies. Entire continents cracked beneath the shockwave, and Valhalla’s surface fractured like broken glass. Reality screamed as laws failed in the collision.

When the dust settled, the Master stood his ground.

He had been pushed back. The skin on his arm was charred and calcined, damaged but far from destroyed.

Examining the injury, the Master released a slow, almost disappointed sigh.

"I suppose... it will be the long way."

With those words, he slammed his hand into the ground.

Instantly, a massive green fog began to pour from the portal. It spread with terrifying speed, swallowing Valhalla’s surface in seconds. The fog was dense, unnatural, and filled with a presence that made the mind recoil.

Then it expanded outward.

Into the void.

The eyes of the White Death, Vlad, and Overlord widened in shock as they watched the yellow lightning crash into the green fog—only to be neutralized completely. Even worse, they could feel it.

The will of the universe itself was being repelled.

Not blocked.

Repelled.

The fog was rewriting authority.

None of them dared test their luck. Vlad’s Quantum Eye flared to life, swallowing the trio in distorted light and reappearing far, far away—so distant that even their enhanced vision reduced Valhalla to a mere dot in the void.

And yet, the horror only grew.

The dark green fog continued to spread.

Valhalla was a supreme world—one connected to countless realms, surrounded by a myriad of smaller worlds and dimensional offshoots. One by one, those worlds were engulfed.

Vlad instinctively stepped forward, only to stop himself. A long, hollow sigh escaped his lips, rising from the depths of his soul. He was too wounded. Too exhausted. And even if he weren’t, entering that fog would be suicide.

The Master would kill him effortlessly.

There was nothing he could do.

For hours, the trio watched as the fog expanded, devouring an incomprehensible amount of space before finally stopping. The sheer scale of destruction was staggering.

Silence followed.

"...What happened?"

Only then did the White Death finally speak.

He had been monitoring Valhalla, aware that the Xaos Kingdom would make a move. Everything had been proceeding smoothly—until the portal manifested. Using the strongest interstellar teleportation formation of the Graecia Empire, he had arrived just in time.

Now, he needed answers.

Vlad glanced toward the White Death and gave a slow nod. Even if the man had not saved their lives in that moment, he would still have deserved the truth. And so Vlad told him everything.

The Xaos King explained how they had been monitoring Valhalla long before the catastrophe. He spoke of the massacre that was about to take place, of how entire populations had been standing on the brink of annihilation without even realizing it. He described their intervention—the evacuation of civilians, the desperate battles against the abominations born from Antorus’ children, and the eventual confrontation with Eternal Puppeteer himself.

And finally, Vlad spoke of the deception.

When Vlad finished, silence lingered between them.

The White Death studied him for a long moment, his expression unreadable. Then he exhaled slowly and shook his head.

"You should not blame yourself," he said. "Had you not acted, the portal would still have been forged. The only difference is that we would have remained oblivious of what was going on inside the fog."

Vlad’s lips curved into a small, weary smile as he nodded. Those words were true. If he had done nothing, Eternal Puppeteer would have completed his scheme regardless—perhaps without even needing to die in the process. Still, that truth did little to ease the weight in his chest. His actions had accelerated everything. Entire worlds within Valhalla’s domain had paid the price.

"There is nothing we can do right now," Overlord’s voice echoed calmly.

Unlike the others, the A.I. Chip Clone viewed the situation without emotion, analyzing it from a purely objective standpoint. "The Alien Powers cannot leave the green fog, and we currently lack the strength to confront what resides within it. Our optimal course of action is to return home, recover, and reassess before determining our next move."

Vlad and the White Death exchanged glances before nodding in agreement.

In the next instant, the trio vanished, retreating into the depths of the void.