Rebirth-Transcending All Beings-Chapter 58: The Gate That Towered Towards The Stars

The chime that rang fell dead on his ears, echoing uselessly in his mind like a scream in a collapsing tunnel. He was too far gone to be aware of his surroundings.

His thoughts weren’t even thoughts anymore — fragments, jumbled words and broken symbols. Ancient knowledge of a forgotten god were all that remained.

His left eye’s sclera flicked to the corner, making him jerk slightly. He didn’t know what it was or what it wanted.

All it did was ovserve.

"Leave me alone," he mumbled in shattered breaths. "I just need some sleep."

"Vergil," Eleanor called. "Get a grip of yourself."

No response came back.

Eleanor exhaled sharply. "You’re sweating like a dying dog, and talking to yourself. Are you cursed?"

"He doesn’t look cursed," Elena said softly as she glanced between the two. "He was fine yesterday. But something’s wrong."

"I can see that," Eleanor snapped. "But wasting time sitting here and waiting for him to collapse isn’t going to help."

"He already is—" Elena’s voice caught herself on a hitched breath.

Vergil’s.

His muscles coiled, his frame jerking against his will as the edges of his vision liquefied, bleeding into a whirlpool of both primary and mixed colours.

He tried to force a cry out but the words shattered — refusing to be spoken.

His head dropped on the wooden floor with a thud that merged with the surrounding noise, arms gripping his hair as if trying to rip his brain free.

"What’s going on with him?!" Elina cried, now kneeling in front of him. "Vergil — stay with us!"

She reached out, placing a hand on his forehead.

Burning. Like touching iron fresh from the forge. "He’s burning up," she said urgently.

"We need to—"

But it was already too late.

Vergil’s body gave out. His arms fell limp to his sides. Elena and Eleanor steadied him, resting him upon Elina’s lap.

His weight was heavier than she had expected from the boy, as he breathed in weak bursts.

"...He’s out cold," she panicked. "He’s burning, he’s not waking up. We have to stop — find a village and get a healer or—."

Eleanor rose, gripping a brace on the carriage wall to steady herself. Her expression remained unreadable — gaze falling toward the unconscious boy.

Vergil wasn’t just sick. It was something else, he had already shown remarkable healing abilities during his fight with Morvax — doesn’t seem like an internal injury.

"So many factors — could it be related to his consciousness?" She whispered.

Elena looked up at her. "Then why are you standing there doing nothing?! Help me!"

"I am doing something," Eleanor retorted. "I’m thinking. Unlike you, I don’t panic the second someone falls ill."

Elena’s face twisted in a mix of frustration and helplessness, but she said no more. Too focused on Vergil, wiping the sweat that dripped from his forehead.

Eleanor turned away slowly, her gaze lingering in the gap between the fluttering white curtains.

"That eye." Eleanor muttered softly. The demonic eye that Vergil gained after ’cannibalising’ Morvax. It appeared as he thrashed.

Elina glanced up. "What did you say?"

"None of your concern." Eleanor muttered ’This eye is really getting on my nerves.’ Her gaze returned to Vergil, whose lips now trembled faintly in his sleep.

Mumbling something barely audible. "Who... what... want."

Elina gripped his hand. As the carriage toiled towards the capital, unware of the fate that began to unveil itself.

-----

Vergil woke up. Not in the carriage. Not in the waking world either. No sky existed above him — only a hollow yawning void that stretched forever.

It wasn’t black or grey. Just nothingness, dotted with blinding ethereal lights that neither shone nor moved.

Just observed.

His body moved, not by his own will, but as if drawn to something. Perhaps his fate, or the being that controlled it that moved him forward.

He took a step.

Splash!

Then another.

Splash!

The sound was the only thing that accompanied him through this hollow void, repeating rhythmically with every motion as he walked through a crimson so red and deep, it looked black under the false void.

Yet glimmered when disturbed — thick, like blood left to congeal under heat.

Vergil didn’t look down, he didn’t question nor think about how he wasn’t sinking.

The water rippled gently beneath his feet, but he felt no warmth. Only a faint pulsing pressure in his skull. It didn’t throb violently, but tenderly like an aching lullaby.

His footsteps lured him somewhere, slowly. Not by fear but inevitably. The space around him didn’t breathe nor hum nor whisper malevolent voices. There was no wind.

Just him.

And the never-ending expanse of red. His reflection didn’t appear, only colour — so saturated it almost felt offensive, as if it didn’t acknowledge him.

Testing his qualifications — his right to stand here. And it didn’t acknowledge.

He wasn’t in control.

And deep inside, he knew it.

His hair had returned back to its natural dishevelled black. The glowing scarlet of his left eye pulsing softly in sync with something beneath his feet.

Then—

A disturbance.

A ripple.

Not caused by him.

Far ahead, a slight shudder in the stillness of water. He didn’t stop. He couldn’t and he didn’t want to.

The ripple grew, then swelled.

The sea boiled violently in the distance and something began to rise. Not slowly. Not with grace.

But with the suddenness of a prison break. A massive form surged from beneath the depths, breaking through the crimson surface like a beast tasting air for the first time in an epoch.

There was no roar or poetic and cryptic speech.

It simply rose.

And kept rising.

Vergil didn’t flinch. His feet carried him forward with an almost mechanical resolve, every fibre of his being screamed to stop. But he couldn’t. He couldn’t blink, he didn’t think. He was drawn to it.

His very soul yearned for it. 𝓯𝓻𝓮𝙚𝙬𝓮𝙗𝒏𝙤𝒗𝙚𝙡.𝒄𝒐𝓶

The silhouette rose higher.

Massive and colossal. It scraped the heavens that weren’t there, rising endlessly towards the stars that began blinking violently above as if in despair.

The waves it birthed as it emerged, rolled across the sea like a thunderous tide — racing towards him.

They should’ve consumed him.

But before they could reach even a centimetre to where he stood.

They collapsed, falling into the water like dying breaths, robbed of their very purpose.

Vergils breath caught his throat. The pressure behind his eye became unbearable.

His body stilled for a moment.

His head pulsed as the sclera darkened around the scarlet circle, bleeding upon gazing at this ominous and towering wall.

But his body began moving again. In a trance he was.

He took another step.

The outline of that thing — that presence — became clearer. Closer. He was being drawn to it, no matter how far it seemed. As both eyes leaked out a stream of crimson that dripped — mixing with the scarlet.

Then—

A touch.

Soft and cold. But final.

It pressed over his eyes, stabbing into them — yet he felt no pain, just a strange peace as the darkness wrapped his vision like a blindfold, smooth and unyielding; sealing his gaze.

Yet sleep nor death overtook him.

Just—denial.

His body locked. His breath stilled. His very thoughts became a static haze.

A voice—wordless, soundless—spoke into the bone of his soul.

"It is not time yet."

And then—

nothing.

-----

His eyes fluttered open slowly. Head still pulsing, his face flushed — though both as bad as it was previously. Oddly, he felt nothing was wrong, but even if something was, he couldn’t bring himself to care.

Yet the memories of what occurred had disappeared. He didn’t feel a sense of loss but as if they were taken by force — erased entirely, like nothing had ever happened.

"Finally up," Eleanor said, voice as sharp as ever.

Vergil groaned, pushing himself upright, his body ached like he had crawled from brink of death — the world spun around him before slowly settling.

"H-How long was I out?" His voice came out hoarse as if he’d screamed for hours without end.

"It’s geen a day," Elina answered softly. Sitting closer than before, hands fidgeting on her lap.

Vergil’s gaze shifted towards her.

Orange.

A calm, steady orange, burning softly. Not wild but warm. Resembling compassion and concern.

Even though his left eye was hidden, his demonic sight was still active — showing him truths beneath buried thr silence.

Then he turned to Eleanor.

Her emotions were both layered and dense. Dark purple — resmebling her nature. Cold logic, control and judgement, threaded with a deep blue that he couldn’t put a mark onm

But beneath that fortress of calm, Vergil saw it: a small, flickering red-orange flame.

Concern.

It was faint but present.

He smirked inwardly, then a sudden spark of grey flared — and disappeared as fast as it had appeared.

"Don’t push yourself," Elena sighed, noticing his uneven breath. "You’re still burning up, and what happened to you wasn’t normal. You kept murmuring in your sleep."

Vergil blinked, tilting his head. "What do you mean." He asked blankly.

"Huh?" Elina leaned in.

"I can’t remember," he murmured, his voice low. "It’s like... nothing’s there."

Outside, the carriage continued rolling as the sun gleamed the horizon.

Yet silence was all that remained inside the carriage.

Elena tilted her head. "Try to remember something. You were murmuring... something about a sea. A voice."

"Leave, it," Eleanor spoke. "Dwelling on it will only cloud your judgement. You need to be at your best state."

"Vergil, take it easy for now," Elina added gently. "There’s only three days left. You need to be in top form before the test."

Vergil looked between them. "I’m fine. But it seems I won’t be able to rest on this journey.

Elina gave a hesitant look.

"Halt!" The group leader’s voice rang out.

The carriage jolted to a stop, followed by the three behind it.

The horses neighed, unsettled.

Vergil’s eyes snapped toward the window. A strange silence fell outside.