Re: Timeless Apocalypse-Chapter 90: Lady Emmett

Uriel looked at Emmet’s outstretched hand for what seemed like an eternity.

On the side, Amon was shaken and on edge, unsure what to do. They’d all seen what Uriel was capable of.

If a battle erupted, Amon wasn’t sure he could come out of it intact, let alone alive.

Well, he was sure he could live, but he wasn’t willing to expend so much energy on such an idiotic task. More dangers would soon be coming.

The tension only rose as the seconds stretched and passed by.

Uriel suddenly smiled. 𝗳𝐫𝚎𝗲𝚠𝚎𝗯𝕟𝐨𝘃𝚎𝗹.𝗰𝗼𝗺

He shook Emmet’s hand. "I suppose you already know my name, then."

Emmet’s gaze rippled as he felt the strength coursing through Uriel’s hand and the sheer solidity of his flesh.

It was as if he was shaking the hand of a man of stone.

"Well then, Emmet. What can I do for you? Time is ticking, you know?" His smile widened. "It’d be unfortunate if we all died here, wouldn’t it?"

Still holding Uriel’s hand, Emmet nodded. "It truly would."

"It’s as I said. It’s unfortunate."

SHAH!

Time slowed to an absolute crawl for Uriel. No, time entirely stopped and froze.

Uriel had activated his Uniqueness the very second he sensed even the faintest flicker from Emmet’s core and yet...

’Fast.’

...a long, sharp dagger was already at his neck, struggling to press against his skin, yet still there nonetheless.

If the blade didn’t pierce into his throat, the blunt impact would at worst shatter his trachea and at best really hurt.

Well, both would hurt anyway.

’The difference between ranks truly is something.’

He was a Pioneer and someone most would consider supremely talented, with a host of unfair advantages, and Emmet was ’just’ a Peak E Ranker.

The F Rank was the only thing between them, technically, and yet the gap was so large.

Uriel inwardly chuckled.

WHOOOSH!

Emmet’s dagger sliced through nothing but air, compressed winds erupting to slam into the white walls in front of him, followed by waves of his natal aether.

Uriel wasn’t there anymore.

Emmet didn’t lose focus even once, though, his gaze instantly darted around, his senses spreading in search of Uriel. He’d burned nearly half of his aether with that strike, aiming to end things instantly.

And yet, here he was.

’The footage said he—’

Emmet’s eyes widened and he froze.

"What a fascinating evolution."

His eyes trembled, and he suddenly felt a cold sensation wash over his warm body. His body shuddered as his core suddenly quivered, as if it were skin, and cold slender fingers danced across it.

He couldn’t see Uriel, and he was uninjured, yet his core was within his grasp and he felt like he could die at any moment.

It was as if his very soul were in Uriel’s hands, his very heart balancing on the tip of a blade.

It was suffocating.

Emmet felt pressure applied to his core and his face twisted into an expression of pure and utter fear, sweat soaking him as his blades clanged against one another, his shaking incessant.

"Terrible, truly." Uriel laughed.

The moment Uriel spoke, Emmet’s face suddenly became deadpan, as if he’d been acting all along. Uriel’s hold on his core tightened and, in a blink, it shattered.

But rather than exploding into a mess of blood and flesh, Emmet’s body burst into a kaleidoscope of crystal butterflies, dispersing throughout the room.

In shock, Amon watched as each butterfly fused into the dozen survivors remaining, all of whom Emmet had previously been with.

They each shook and trembled, then shattered into crystal butterflies, the same ones Emmet had exploded into.

Rapidly, they were all converted and the white room was flooded.

The massive flutter of butterflies assembled and fused, and in a blink, a new figure appeared. But it wasn’t Emmet.

Or maybe it was, but they didn’t have the same body anymore.

With short light-blue hair and piercing golden eyes, a short and slender woman fitted with light silver armour stood in place of the previous group.

Her features were soft and delicate, and she would’ve almost seemed like an innocent, lost child, if not for her sharp gaze, filled with aged and refined malice and shrewdness.

She smiled.

WHOOSH!

She blinked once, and Uriel appeared where he’d previously been, as if he’d never left.

Amon, Uriel, and the strange lady stared at one another, none uttering a word. The latter two smiled while locking eyes, while Amon himself only grew more overwhelmed.

’What the hell is going on?!’ He looked at the lady. ’Did she just kill them all?!’

’Or were they never real to begin with? Then how did she fool the system? Or did she kill them as they entered the safe zone and turn them into those weird butterflies?’

[Quota Reached!]

A small golden dot appeared on each of their palms.

[Exit will be opened once other safe zone quotas have been met. Prepare for the following procedures.]

Silence.

The room remained quiet, and they simply began to wait.

Uriel’s smile soon faded into a calm yet neutral expression, his body relaxed and his core at ease, while the lady’s expression only grew more fiendish, her natal aether cycling so rapidly that the temperature of the room steadily climbed.

At his limit, Amon finally intervened.

"I-I think there’s no need for this. I’m sure this is only the beginning of the hell we’ll be put through. If they asked at least five of us to remain, it means we may have to work as a team at some point."

He swallowed hard. "It’d be better if all animosity were put aside for now. Please. We need to survive first."

To Amon’s shock, Uriel nodded in agreement. "Mm. I wasn’t very intent on fighting anyway."

"I’m not sure why Lady Emmet wanted to fight me, though. I don’t recall us having any grievances, but alas."

Amon exhaled upon hearing Uriel utter these words and soon turned to the lady. "And you," he sighed in exasperation, a bit too nonchalant given the situation, "please be more mindful."

"Why would you attack one of the strongest humans in our world when there’s a horde of weaker targets around you? Assuming these people you were with were real, even if you killed him, you’d have needed to kill most of them anyway."

"If we are to fight together in the coming horrors, please, be more... sharp. Be more intelligent, please."

Uriel didn’t react to those words, but inwardly, he couldn’t help but chuckle. ’Bit of a strange lad.’

Lady Emmet slowly turned to Amon. Her savage grin mellowed into an expression of pure contempt.

She stared into Amon’s simultaneously cowardly and courageous gaze.

"Have you heard of the Blood-Heaven Massacre?"

Uriel froze.