Beyond the Apocalypse-Chapter 986: Falling sky

At the highest level of the Xaos Tower, the wind was unnaturally still. The chamber—lined with black crystal and veins of molten silver—glowed faintly beneath the weight of divine and infernal energy intertwined.

Vlad, Freya, Jormungandr, Fafnir, Ouroboros, and Overlord stood in a half-circle, their gazes locked on the entity suspended before them.

Eligos, the Vorometallic Lord, was no longer recognizable. His once-silver body had been completely consumed by the Nightmare Universe, his bones and blood transformed into an extension of the monstrous mass of flesh and eyes. Every atom, every thought, every echo of his soul had been assimilated.

Overlord’s eyes burned with focus. His consciousness resonated with the fragment of his mind that commanded the Nightmare Universe itself.

Slowly, Eligos’s memories began to unravel. Thoughts and emotions surfaced in fragments—millennia of knowledge spilling forth like a river of molten data. Overlord digested the information with machine-like precision, arranging chaos into order.

When the flood subsided, he finally spoke.

"The Vorometallicae were approached by Antorus over a year ago," Overlord said, his voice low but steady. "It was before the death of the former Empress of Valhalla. Antorus met with the Sacred Kings of their race and formed a pact. The Vorometallicae would lend him military support and help him establish his reign over Valhalla after his ascension to the throne—and in return, they would receive resources and a new slave caste to replenish their dwindling population."

The True Depravitas fell silent. The words cut deep.

They all remembered the corrupted Vikings imprisoned within the containment ponds at the heart of Valhalla—tens of millions reduced to livestock. Now, it was clear what purpose they had served.

The Vorometallicae were an ancient and formidable civilization, their bodies capable of absorbing metal and mineral essence to forge living armor stronger than dragon scales. But that strength came at a price—their fertility had declined.

Now, through Antorus and the Fleshcrafters, they had found a solution, breeding new hybrid stock from mutated Vikings.

Vlad’s expression darkened. "So that was the purpose of the sacrifices," he muttered.

Overlord gave him a moment to absorb the horror before continuing.

"Unfortunately," he said, "Eligos possessed no direct knowledge of the Alien Power’s ruler. Only the Sacred Kings interacted with that being. But he did know this: the Vorometallicae are preparing to launch an offensive against the Xaos Kingdom. As soon as their exchange with Antorus is complete, they will contribute a significant portion of their military might to his campaign—to march upon Terra itself and end the Depravita Race."

The chamber’s temperature seemed to drop.

Each of the True Depravitas understood what that meant. The Vorometallicae army was not a mere force—it was a civilization of living war machines, capable of fighting on multiple fronts across Doomsday Worlds. Even a fraction of their legions could devastate entire star systems.

If those armies joined the corrupted hosts of Valhalla under Antorus’s command, Terra’s defenses would be pushed to the brink.

But the bad news did not end there.

Overlord’s eyes flickered as another stream of data surfaced from Eligos’s mind.

"There is more," he said. "Not concrete intelligence, but rumor—one that has begun spreading through the higher realms. It seems that the name of the Depravita Race has begun to echo across the universe."

Vlad’s eyes narrowed, and while it was horrible news, they were not surprising. Their actions have drawn attention. Too much of it. They have struck at powers that thought themselves untouchable—and now the debts are coming due.

"More specifically, the name of the Xaos Kingdom is being whispered even in Heaven."

The words froze the room.

Heaven.

That ancient, unyielding force—one of the oldest and most absolute powers in the cosmos. The True Depravitas exchanged looks, each one remembering the event that had sealed their fate. 𝑓𝑟ℯ𝘦𝓌𝘦𝘣𝑛𝑜𝓋𝑒𝓁.𝑐ℴ𝓂

They had not merely fought an Archangel—they had slain Metatron, the Voice of Heaven itself. And worse, the A.I. Chip Clone had claimed his body.

As for how they found out, it was simple. The one who told them was clearly Emanon. The entity of the Alien Powers might not be strong, but he was scheming and knew how to manipulate others into doing his dirty work.

Vlad exhaled, his breath heavy as the enormity of it settled on his shoulders. "Valhalla, the Vorometallicae, and now Heaven," he said softly. "Each one alone could destroy worlds. Together..."

He did not finish the sentence. He didn’t need to.

The weight pressing down on him was immense. The wrath of Heaven was unlike any other. It was not born of vengeance, but of law—cold, absolute, and merciless.

But he would not falter.

The True Depravita of Wrath straightened, forcing himself to breathe, his golden eyes burning with restrained defiance.

"One step at a time," he said, his voice steady. "We’ll deal with what’s before us. We’ll—"

He stopped.

A tremor ran through the air—so sudden, so overwhelming, that even the Xaos Tower trembled.

Vlad’s eyes widened. He felt it. A disturbance in the fabric of space, vast and malignant. Something was clawing at reality itself, trying to tear its way into the world.

The claws of an unseen beast scraped against existence, and the sound alone made even the gods shudder.

The heavens split.

A colossal rumble shook Terra, echoing from the upper atmosphere to the deepest void. The horizon darkened as the barrier between worlds fractured—hundreds of thousands of rifts ripping open across the edge of reality, between the sky and the Void Beyond.

The True Depravita of Wrath turned his gaze upward, toward the bleeding wounds in the sky. From within those rifts poured a torrent of red light—like a sea of blood and flame spilling into the world.

Then the shapes emerged.

Millions of Devils, their wings black as ash and their eyes burning with hatred, descended from the void like a storm of locusts. Each one carried an aura strong enough to crush mountains. Their roars fused into a chorus of madness that made the clouds tremble.