Beyond the Apocalypse-Chapter 984: Parasites

The Xaos Kingdom had endured turmoil for the last couple of days.

The first sign came from the upper decks of the Xaos Tower, when every scanning array and astral sensor suddenly screamed with warning. Hundreds of powerful signatures had been detected descending from the sky—each one radiating the unmistakable essence of demons, none below the Legendary Tier.

For a single breath, the entire world held still. Armies mobilized, defense networks flared to life, and the energy cannons aimed upward.

Then, just as quickly as the panic began, it vanished.

The alarms silenced. The sensors stabilized. The demonic auras resolved—and the truth was revealed.

They were not invaders.

They were the Demon Soul Masters.

The elite legions who had ventured into the Abyss years ago had finally returned. Though more than a hundred of them had perished in the endless wars of that brutal realm, the survivors were utterly transformed. Their souls burned brighter, their minds sharpened by endless battle. They were no longer merely soldiers—they were weapons of pure conviction, honed to perfection.

An army unlike any humanity had ever forged now marched once more beneath the banners of Xaos.

No sooner had that relief settled than a new alarm rippled across Terra’s skies.

From orbit descended a massive, jagged vessel, its hull gleaming with the signature aesthetic of the Vorometallicae Race—cold, angular, and terrifying. Entire cities watched in dread as the ship pierced the clouds, its engines roaring with alien power.

But as it neared the capital, a new signal appeared—familiar, steady, and unmistakable.

"It’s them," said Chief Councilor Alonz, his voice full of relief and awe. "The True Depravitas have returned."

When the colossal vessel landed, the shock turned to celebration.

Inside was a wealth beyond measure—mountains of rare ores and divine metals. Alonz could barely contain his delight. Terra’s expanding trade networks could refine these resources into energy and infrastructure, translating material gain into real strength.

While the Chief Councilor and his ministers organized the transport of the treasures—and arranged housing and sustenance for the hundreds of millions of rescued Vikings—the Grand Marshal and his generals began feeding the salvaged biomaterial into the Tiamathos Obelisk, giving birth to endless hordes of drones.

High above, on the pinnacle of the Xaos Tower, stood those whose concerns were far graver.

Vlad and the A.I. Chip Clone watched in silence as a figure floated before them, bound by countless layers of spiritual seals and chains of crimson light.

Eligos.

The captured Vorometallic Lord.

They had taken him alive during the final siege, hoping to extract his knowledge of Antorus’s plans. But even bound, Eligos was dangerous. His willpower was immense, his soul fortified by countless eons of battle and mechanical augmentation.

"Jormungandr can consume him," Overlord said quietly, "but not completely. His devouring ability excels against souls of lower order. Against a Lord like this... he risks collapse."

Vlad nodded. He had expected as much. The True Depravita of Gluttony could absorb fragments—memories, perhaps instincts—but what they needed was everything.

Overlord himself could perform a Soul Search, but that path carried immense risk. A being of Eligos’s power could resist even a Lord-tier probe. Push too hard, and the soul would shatter before yielding any secrets.

Fortunately, Overlord had prepared another method.

From the abyss beneath the Xaos Tower, a tide of darkness began to rise.

Eyes without number. Mouths filled with fangs. A vast, living shadow that carried the scent of eternal nightmares.

The Nightmare Universe had awakened.

Its power had grown immense in recent years, nourished by the divine energy of the Xoas Faith. It was now strong enough to rival the Lords of Hell and the Abyss themselves. While Vlad and Overlord had journeyed out of the world, this being had silently guarded Terra, ensuring no threat approached in their absence.

The Nightmare’s gaze fell upon Vlad. At his nod, the entity advanced, its mass twisting like black smoke and liquid fear as it surrounded Eligos. Then, gently, it entered him—a slow, invasive process that would take time but guarantee success.

Every memory, every hidden thought, every buried instinct that Eligos had ever possessed would be consumed and cataloged.

With that task in motion, Vlad turned to Overlord.

"Now," he said, "we focus on what we brought back."

The three figures teleported to the deepest level of the Xaos Tower, where a colossal laboratory pulsed with arcane light. The air vibrated with containment fields and layered runic shields—each calibrated to isolate whatever they summoned next.

The A.I. Clone extended his hand, weaving a lattice of spiritual and quantum barriers, ensuring no signal could escape. When he finished, he gave Vlad a nod.

The True Depravita of Wrath raised his hand and tore open a spatial treasure, shattering it in an instant.

The air exploded with light.

Millions of corrupted Totems and imprisoned souls poured out, swirling in chaos before being instantly restrained by the Tower’s containment arrays.

The chamber darkened as the energy of those corrupted relics filled the space. Their howls echoed in the walls, like the cries of a thousand fallen gods.

Overlord stepped forward, extending his aura to its fullest. The tower responded, magnifying his perception a thousandfold. He began analyzing each Totem, each fragment of soul, diving through layers of metaphysical infection and alien technology.

After half an hour, his expression hardened.

"Parasites," he said finally.

Vlad’s eyes narrowed. Freya and the others tensed.

"Explain," Vlad demanded.

The A.I. Clone projected a series of diagrams into the air—spirals of black energy entwined around the rune matrices of the Viking Totems.

"The new Totems do not empower their hosts," the clone explained. "They feed on them. The power they grant is not a gift—it’s bait. As long as the host remains infected, the Totem siphons their life and soul essence, slowly consuming them from within. It can detach at any time, leaving only an empty shell behind."

The room fell silent.

Understanding dawned—and with it, horror.

The Vikings were not being transformed into soldiers of corruption. They were being turned into incubators. Living batteries to nourish something far greater.

Freya’s voice was tight. "Then where is all that energy going?"