Vastarael staggered forward through the void.
There was no horizon or ground he could truly see. Only the sensation of resistance beneath his feet was what he could notice. Every step felt wrong, as if reality itself was reluctant to let him move. Pain radiated through him in constant, overlapping waves. They were not strong enough to knock him unconscious but not dull enough to ignore.
His soul endured. That was the cruelest part.
The environment could not fully touch it. An Aeterium's soul was near-indestructible, layered with protections older than most concepts. The void tried to drink from it and failed but Omniphage did not stop. It kept drawing Soul Energy out of him instinctively, desperately trying to stabilize what was breaking. And the moment that energy left his soul, the void devoured it over and over.
The feedback was agony beyond flesh. It was like having his bones shattered over and over and feel the sensation of each shattered bone. He bit down on nothing as he forced himself to keep walking.
He could not use his Divinities or Tether.
Anything active would accelerate the loss. Anything complex would shatter what little balance he had left. So, he walked. That didn't last long after the pain got stronger.
Something inside him cracked.
He collapsed to one knee as a blinding pressure tore through his core. One of his pseudo-cores fractured under the strain. He felt the structure splinter and shatter.
"That's new."
He tried to stand. His legs did not respond.
The strength simply wasn't there anymore, as if the concept of standing had been quietly removed from his body. He fell down, face up. For a moment, he just lay there. He laughed.
It came out hoarse and broken, half a cough, half a sob, echoing faintly through the void.
"Wow. So this is really how it ends, huh? I'm going to die like a dog in a hole that hates me. I lived a good life. Right?"
He escaped his Fate. He wasn't a puppet anymore. He had daughters. Shimmer and Runner. He had five women who loved him in their own complicated, terrifying, beautiful ways. He ruled an eight-thousand-year-old Dynasty and didn't let it rot. He somehow changed the world, even if the world kept punching back. He even got to laugh about stupid things that didn't matter in the grand scheme of things.
"And hey, I lost my virginity before I became an responsible adult. That counts for something—"
The pain returned.
His body convulsed violently as another pseudo-core shattered. Another core cracked. Then another.
Each one detonated with less resistance than the last. He screamed until his voice failed. All that came out were broken gasps and silent sobs as his body fractured from the inside.
The cores that acted as his heart were gone. The pain was slowly replaced by a spreading cold emptiness. He stared into the void and scoffed weakly.
"Adelasta's going to be pissed."
A small, sad smile tugged at his lips.
"Guess I don't even get heaven or hell. Aeterium problems. Reincarnation… centuries from now. If there's even a world left."
He imagined his beloveds moving on, the world changing without him and his name becoming a footnote or a myth. The idea hurt more than the pain ever had.
He swallowed with effort.
"Hey… Thyrexxa," he murmured, not even sure if she could hear him. "If you're listening… do me a favor."
His breathing was getting slower.
"Reincarnate me somewhere else next time. Somewhere… quieter. Somewhere I don't have to suffer like this."
She did not answer him.
His body finally gave up.
The last breath left his lungs in a shallow sigh. A peaceful smile lingered on his face as everything went dark.
Vastarael Blossom Richinaria was dead. However...