Chapter 86 The Twist of Cosmos
Inside the void of her own mind, Klishei was falling.
It was a place of absolute silence and absolute darkness. There was no wind, no heat, no cold. Just her, drifting through nothingness.
Slowly, the scene earlier unraveled in her mind. She had just woken from a deceptive dream. No wonder it felt too good to be true—Yeseus proposing to her amidst the beautiful landscape of Spasio city.
Instead, she woke up with an unfamiliar face and body, ready to take her as if she were a meal. Although she had not seen him personally, she already knew it was him—Zarakhi, the dragon king. His irises that glowed purple and golden terrified her so much that she was frozen. It was a rollercoaster of emotions. After just being deceived, she was overcome by fear of what was about to come to her.
Then, her saviour appeared.
It was just for a brief moment but everything seemed to calm down. Oh, right. Yeseus was wounded, like he had gone through perilous worlds just to reach her.
But even that fleeting beautiful moment vanished in an instant. She did not absorb what really happened but she could remember being hit by a dark smoke that came out of the dragon king’s hands.
What happened after was the darkness.
Anxiety attacked Klishei. Was Yeseus still fighting Zarakhi? Could a wolf prevail against a dragon?
The void offered no answers. She wanted to cry but her frozen body refused. It was like half of her body wanted to feel emotions but the other half was totally encased in a state of shock.
“Is this death?” she wondered, her thoughts like ripples in a black pond.
Who would answer her here in such a place?
“No,” a voice answered.
It wasn't one voice. It was thousands.
A spark appeared in the distance. Then another. They began to swirl, forming a Great Wheel of fire that illuminated the darkness. Klishei stopped falling. She felt her feet touch something solid, though there was nothing there.
In front of her, a woman appeared. She was tall, her skin the color of burnished bronze, her hair a flowing river of white flames. Her eyes were twin suns.
“Who are you?” Klishei asked, her voice echoing in the void.
“I am the First,” the woman said. “And you are the Last.”
Images began to flood Klishei’s mind, faster than she could process. She saw a world before the Cosmos, before the Dragon Kings, before the werewolves. She saw a Great Bird of fire descending upon a barren rock, its wings bringing the first breath of life.
She saw the first humans, and she saw the first guardians. But they weren't Kings. They were servants.
“The Dragon was built to protect the Flame,” the First Phoenix whispered, her image flickering. “But the Dragon grew proud. He stole the throne. He turned the Bride into a breeder, and the Mother into a slave.”
Klishei saw Zarakhi’s ancestors, the long line of ‘Kings’ who had manipulated the Phoenix vessels for two thousand years. She saw the fraud.
The ‘union’ wasn't for balance; it was for theft. Each King drained the Phoenix, keeping the universe in a state of stagnant order while they played god.
They also recalibrated the vessels of the Phoenix Brides, injecting in their minds that they were mere propagators but that they were still essential.
“They told you that you were a vessel for their children,” the First said, her golden eyes flashing with an ancient, suppressed fury. “They lied. You are the source. You are the judge. You are the end.”
Outside, in the physical world, Zarakhi prepared to deliver the killing blow to Yeseus. His hand was wreathed in a blade of violet energy, aimed straight for Yeseus’s heart.
“Die with your world, Alpha,” Zarakhi sneered.
Yeseus closed his eyes, a single tear tracking through the blood on his cheek. “I’m sorry, Klishei.”
Inside the darkness, Klishei’s eyes snapped open. They weren't brown. They weren't golden. They were a blinding, iridescent white that contained every color of the spectrum.
“I see you,” Klishei whispered to the memory of the First.
“Then wake up,” the First commanded. “And burn them all.”
In the bedchamber, the vegetative state shattered like glass. A shockwave of pure, white heat erupted from Klishei’s body, throwing Zarakhi across the room and melting the obsidian wall he had been pinning Yeseus against.
Yeseus fell to his knees, gasping for air, looking up in terror and awe.
Klishei didn't stand on the floor. She floated three feet above it. Her hair was a halo of living white fire, and her gown had transformed into robes of woven light. The air in the palace didn't just hum; it screamed.
Zarakhi scrambled to his feet, his scales blackened and smoking. His eyes were wide with a fear he hadn't felt in eons. “What… what is this?”
He looked at the source of the brightness. “Don’t tell me—Impossible!”
The look in his eyes was the confirmation that she was waiting for. So it was true. For a brief moment, her eyes scanned the surroundings. This was not supposed to be the order of the universe.
The memories of the vessels before her flashed again. The Cosmic Palace was not a dark place. Everything was polished and decorated intentionally. It was built to make it look like a paradise. And the halls were not empty.
There was no king or a single ruler. There should be a council.
Klishei looked at him. Her voice didn't come from her throat; it came from the walls, the floor, and the stars outside.
“The reign of the Dragon,” she said, her eyes burning with the truth of a thousand lifetimes, “is over.”
Yeseus watched, his heart hammering against his ribs, as the girl he loved vanished, replaced by a goddess who looked ready to unmake the universe. He reached out a trembling hand, but the heat was too much.
“Klishei?” he croaked.
She didn't look at him. She looked at Zarakhi, and the Dragon King knew, for the first time in his immortal life, that he was looking at his executioner.
The Blood Moon reached its zenith, and the Cosmic Palace began to scream.