A/N: Damn guys, you really blew up the powerstones eh? Even got under top 10 lol, truly didn't expect that to be honest. Well, as recompense, enjoy the chapter. Its on a bit on big side. wanted to post part of it earlier but felt that shouldn't break it. should end this whole shit in one go.
Also remember the twin stars things?
Quick Recap as this chapter has connections to it:
In MC's mind, there exists Ezra Star and Alex Star, representing the ego of Ezra and ego of Alex, the former was broken and left diffused during transmigration of Alex. Because it was Ezra who was part of the cosmic force, and not alex, his connection to the force was left broken/weaker. The abeloth's corruption had temporarily patched up the damage but after it was vanquished, the memory fragments of Reva's helped it instead.)
And the star that represents Alex, its an stuff from higher/different dimension btw so that was why Abeloth couldn't devour it and it even caused her backlash when she tried and allowed MC to live back then.
Honestly the whole mind star thing was getting a bit convoluted and all so I have tried to clean up all that mess in this chapter at once. After this chapter, things will be much more simple and intuitive to understand and it would feel more Star Wars like.
___
"You should have killed me when you had the chance."
Vitiate's spectral hand passed through the damaged little machine as if it were mist and settled over the boy's forehead.
The droid shrieked at him.
A brave gesture.
Pointless, but brave.
The boy's eyes focused on him through the pain. Barely. The transformation had him by the bones now, peeling him apart from within and teaching every nerve a new language.
His lips moved.
"Screw...You..."
The words came out cracked, wet, and almost swallowed by the thing happening under his skin.
Vitiate smiled.
"Yes," he murmured. "That will have to serve as your final coherent observation."
The child's mind bucked against him.
Even now.
Even with his body drinking the dead predator, with his skin splitting along blackened lines, with old wounds opening and closing like the flesh itself could no longer decide which version of injury was current, he still tried to raise a barrier.
Crude static surged around his thoughts.
A wall of jagged noise.
Vitiate almost admired it.
Almost.
Then Vitiate slipped through the crack.
His form narrowed into a thread of old will and dark memory, passed beneath the boy's failing mental guard, and entered.
For one glorious instant, he expected victory.
Then he saw the inside of the boy's mind.
And for the first time in several centuries, Darth Vitiate experienced the very rare sensation of entering a room and immediately wanting to leave.
Vitiate had broken many minds.
The emperor of billions, the starving slave, the fanatic Jedi, the ambitious Sith, the terrified child, the devoted parent, the scholar who thought knowledge made them immune to violation; all of them followed the same broad principles once stripped of decoration.
A mind wanted shape.
Given pressure, it made places.
A childhood home. A throne room. A temple. A battlefield. A garden. A library. A cell. Some hid themselves in symbolic architecture, others in literal memory, but the result was always architecture of some kind.
Memories became walls.
Regret became locked doors.
Secrets became buried chambers.
The ego, the central self, usually chose something flattering. A throne. A mirror. A favorite room. The arms of a loved one. The safest place the subject had ever known.
Had the circumstances been ordinary, Vitiate would have found that center, broken the boy's sense of ownership over himself, and folded the remaining ego into a corner. Alive, perhaps. Chained. Necessary as foundation. A mind without a foundation could become troublesome, and bodies needed enough continuity to avoid useless collapse.
That had been his old preference.
Elegant.
Efficient.
Civilized, by the only standards that mattered.
Now, however, he was damaged. Reduced. A magnificent ruin, yes, but still a ruin. He no longer needed a hidden prisoner rattling around inside the skull. He needed a shell.
If the shell held potential, better.
If the shell could survive this transformation, best of all.
The boy's ego could bear the pain.
Vitiate would inherit the result.
That had been the plan.
Then he landed in the boy's mind and found himself standing on a floating chunk of Lothal street suspended in endless black space while a market, a spice den, a Sith breeding laboratory, a desert cave, a burning starship cockpit, and several dozen memories of the same blue Twi'lek woman drifted around him like debris after a planetary explosion.
Vitiate stared.
"...What in damnation is this place?"
Vitiate stood on a chunk of cracked Lothal street that floated in an absolute void.
Around him drifted memories like debris after an orbital bombardment. A marketplace passed his left shoulder, followed by a spice den and a stone chamber filled with surgical tables. A desert cave rotated lazily nearby. The same blue Twi'lek woman appeared in at least seven different fragments, all of them spinning slowly through the black space.
None of these locations were anchored to anything physical. None of them connected to form a cohesive landscape.
The boy's mindscape looked like someone had taken a highly functional memory palace, fed it through an industrial trash compactor, and then scattered the remains across empty space just to call it interior decoration.
Vitiate's form solidified enough to approximate his old body. He appeared robed, hooded, and with his hands folded in quiet dignity. He preferred structure when structure was available, and even ruined minds usually offered enough material to craft a working shell.
He took a step forward, and the street chunk tilted under his weight.
A memory of the boy as a small child floated past. He was playing with a faceless man and woman in a small room. The figures glitched horribly as Vitiate watched. Their faces flickered between present and absent, while the child's laughter warped into a burst of aggressive static.
Then the entire memory dissolved into grey pixels and drifted upward into the void above.
Vitiate frowned and brushed a speck of digital ash from his sleeve.
Fragmented minds were common enough in his long experience. Trauma achieved that result, and so did poor training or heavy alchemical contamination. He had employed such useful tools himself over the centuries.
But this feels entirely different.
The memories were not breaking because they had been suppressed or locked away behind emotional walls. They were breaking because the fundamental structure holding them together had become incredibly unstable. The boy's mind was actively eating itself.
Or perhaps something else was doing the eating.
Vitiate's attention sharpened as he searched the void. Every mind required a core. The seat of identity always existed somewhere, even if wrapped in layers of false memory and symbolic barricades.
He extended his awareness and reached into the darkness.
A bright fragment floated nearby, depicting the boy meeting the Twi'lek woman in a busy market. The scene radiated a feeling of warmth and emotional significance. Vitiate reached a spectral hand toward it.
The woman's face vanished instantly.
Then her hand disappeared, and the entire market dissolved into static before scattering like ash.
"Fascinating," Vitiate murmured, though he was already growing annoyed.
He turned toward another memory showing the boy training with a red blade in a desert cave. The boy looked older here, focused and determined.
As Vitiate approached the fragment, the boy's face glitched wildly. His body flickered between solid and translucent states, and the cave walls warped in impossible directions. The whole fragment collapsed inward and dissolved upward into the blackness.
Vitiate moved much faster now, passing from memory to memory. Each one degraded the exact moment he drew close. Faces vanished first, then voices faded, and entire sections of landscape peeled away into nothing.
He paused near a raw, unstable fragment showing the boy inside a narrow alley. The child stood over a woman in an Inquisitor uniform, and her body looked completely grey and hollowed out.
The presence Vitiate had felt during the great disturbance lingered heavily in this place. It was woven directly through the act of consumption, right where the boy had pulled the woman's life into his own.
Vitiate felt a familiar resonance there.
The alien presence had definitely left its mark. The source of the shockwave that had woken him and the predator below was hiding inside this broken mind. If he could reach it, he could claim it and trace it back to its origin.
A loud, heavily distorted voice echoed through the void.
"SKIBIDI."
Vitiate turned around slowly.
A porcelain toilet with a human head sticking out of the bowl slid past him through the black space. It rotated at a leisurely pace as it moved, and the head inside sang a repetitive, tuneless noise that immediately made Vitiate's teeth itch.
"Skibidi dop dop dop yes yes."
It passed directly through the Inquisitor memory, causing the alley to glitch violently. The toilet continued on its path, still singing absolute nonsense, until it disappeared into the void.
Vitiate stared after the apparition in total silence.
For three seconds, the former Eternal Emperor considered the possibility that the boy's mind had mounted a defense specifically designed to insult intelligence itself.
He quickly dismissed the thought with a scoff.
Fragmented minds frequently conjured nonsense, especially young minds undergoing catastrophic physical transformations. These absurd hallucinations were simply cognitive debris. They were entirely irrelevant to his grand purpose.
Vitiate turned back toward the Inquisitor memory and reached for the thread of alien presence.
A metallic clanging sound echoed somewhere behind him.
He ignored the noise and pressed his fingers against the memory's edge.
The disturbance flared brightly. It felt hungry and absolutely unlike anything the Force should ever contain. Vitiate's pulse quickened with genuine excitement.
Yes, there you are.
Another massive clanging sound rang out.
Vitiate focused harder and tried to trace the thread back to its source.
"Ayo, the pizza here," a voice announced from the darkness.
The Inquisitor memory completely shattered.
A glowing rectangle appeared exactly in the space the memory had occupied. On the lower half of the rectangle's surface, a tiny figure ran endlessly across colorful subway trains collecting coins. Text scrolled above the runner, while the upper half played a video loop of a fat human man sitting in a chair making strange noises.
Vitiate stared at the conjuration, utterly baffled.
"What in the deepest hells is that?" Vitiate demanded out loud.
The tiny running figure collected a coin, and a cheerful chime played.
"I asked what this is supposed to be!" Vitiate shouted at the void.
A third metallic clang reverberated through the empty space.
Vitiate spun around toward the noise, his hands sparking with dark side energy.
A long metal pipe tumbled slowly through the void, rotating end over end. It struck nothing at all and touched absolutely nothing. It simply floated past his face and disappeared into the ether.
He turned back toward his prize.
The glowing rectangles were still there. The tiny figure still ran along the trains, and the fat man still sat in his chair.
"I do not have time for this infantile garbage," Vitiate growled.
He raised one hand and dismissed the entire floating display with a massive pulse of dark side energy.
The rectangles flickered violently.
Then they immediately respawned three meters to the left, still playing the exact same looping video.
Vitiate's left eye began to twitch.
Vitiate forced himself to look away from the idiotic glowing rectangles and marched deeper into the fractured void.
He needed to find the core of this wretched mind because the boy's ego and if could locate the alien presence? Even better.
A memory of the boy sitting alone inside a starship cockpit drifted past his peripheral vision, and the faint hum of that bizarre alien power pulsed right beneath the digital dashboard. He reached out his spectral hand toward the cockpit.
A pixelated feline with a pink pastry for a torso suddenly flew directly across his field of vision. The absurd creature trailed a brightly colored rainbow and looped a high-pitched, cheerful musical track that instantly gave Vitiate a migraine.
"Nyanyanyanyanya," the pastry cat sang as it flew by.
Vitiate swatted at the singing creature with a surge of telekinetic force. His hand passed harmlessly through the pixels without causing any disruption.
The cat continued its erratic flight path into the endless black, but the godawful music refused to fade. It echoed endlessly from every direction at once, causing Vitiate to grind his teeth together so hard his spectral jaw audibly popped.
He refocused his attention on the cockpit memory and extended his will to find the nest of the alien entity.
A massive canine face manifested in the empty space directly above the starship. The dog was easily the size of a Republic frigate, rendered in flat colors with an infuriatingly smug expression. Neon text floated around its massive head in a garish font.
MUCH IMMORTAL. VERY EMPEROR. SO CONSUMED.
Vitiate stared up at the giant dog with growing disbelief. "You are severely testing the limits of my infinite patience," he warned the hallucination.
The dog's smug expression did not change in the slightest as a new line of text appeared.
WOW.
"Cease your existence," Vitiate sneered, turning his back on the beast to examine the starship memory.
The cockpit suddenly dissolved completely. A thin white crack split the exact space where the memory had just existed.
Vitiate froze in his tracks. The fissure was roughly the width of a hair, yet it spread through the empty void with the slow inevitability of fracturing glass. It produced zero sound and emitted no energy signature whatsoever. It simply existed as a jagged wrongness cutting through the mental architecture.
He took a cautious step backward as the fissure widened. He could glimpse something else lurking beyond the broken edge. The space inside the crack looked deeper and colder than the black mindscape around him, radiating a feeling of absolute emptiness.
He extended his senses toward the anomaly without making physical contact. The dark side of the Force violently recoiled from the breach. Wherever that fissure led, the Force itself absolutely refused to follow.
The concept felt completely alien to Sith science. The very structure of reality seemed to have split open, allowing something beneath the universe to leak through the cracks.
He navigated carefully around the spatial tear and pushed deeper into the collapsing mindscape. More glitched memories floated past his shoulders in terrible condition. The boy training with a wooden staff. The boy hiding in a ventilation shaft. The boy screaming at a faceless woman while digital rain poured over them.
Every single fragment suffered from severe corruption. Faces flickered out of existence, voices distorted into demonic static, and entire landscapes warped before dissolving entirely.
Yet through all the chaotic destruction, Vitiate could clearly feel the alien presence. It remained elusive and woven deeply into the boy's moments of desperate transformation.
You are hiding somewhere in this garbage heap, and I will inevitably find you.
A bright green bird materialized out of thin air directly in front of his face. The creature possessed the rough dimensions of a human torso, sporting enormous eyes and a cheerfully menacing demeanor that felt profoundly insulting.
"You missed your Basic language lesson," the green bird announced.
Vitiate halted his advance and stared at the avian hallucination. "I beg your absolute pardon?"
"Complete your practice immediately or face the consequences," the cartoon bird threatened in a sickeningly sweet tone.
The bird maintained unblinking eye contact while Vitiate gathered his power.
"I am a Dark Lord of the Sith," Vitiate explained with dangerous slowness. "I have consumed the life force of entire star systems. I have ruled an empire for over a thousand years. I have broken the minds of legendary Jedi Masters and rendered entire species extinct for my own amusement."
The bird's cheerful expression remained completely static. "You have exactly three minutes."
Vitiate raised his right hand and unleashed a torrent of dark side lightning. The purple energy consumed the green bird in a crackling web of absolute destruction, causing the owl to explode into a shower of green pixels.
Vitiate lowered his smoking fingers and resumed his march.
The owl instantly respawned directly behind his left shoulder. "Two minutes."
He spun around with a furious snarl and blasted the hallucination with another lethal volley of lightning. The bird shattered into data fragments once again.
It immediately respawned on his right side. "One minute."
Vitiate clenched both hands into tight fists and commanded himself to maintain his composure. This entire circus was merely the defensive mechanism of a broken child undergoing extreme physical duress. These pathetic manifestations meant absolutely nothing.
He actively ignored the threatening green fowl and marched toward a dense cluster of memories floating in the distance.
One large fragment displayed the boy standing on Tatooine. The child was sweating heavily and pushing himself past the point of physical exhaustion. The alien presence pulsed with incredible strength around this specific memory.
Vitiate approached the desert scene with extreme caution. The digital sand rippled unnaturally, and the boy's body flickered like a dying holocron.
A blinding white crack violently split the sand dunes. Then another fissure appeared right beside it.
The fractures spread rapidly, carving the entire memory into jagged sections. Wherever the white light touched, the landscape suffered total erasure. The memory did not simply break down into pixels, because it ceased to exist on a fundamental level.
Vitiate scrambled backward as the cracks widened to reveal the void beyond.
He could finally see the entity hiding in the emptiness. A massive white shape hung suspended in the absolute dark. Its geometry refused to settle into anything a sane mind could comprehend. One second it appeared perfectly spherical, and the very next moment it elongated into impossible angles that folded through dimensions space should never permit.
Vitiate stared at the cosmic aberration in genuine horror. His ancient mind desperately tried to interpret the visual data and utterly failed. He forced his perception to try again, and his sanity threatened to buckle under the terrifying strain.
The white fractures continued their relentless expansion. They carved through the Tatooine memory, spread across the dark mindscape, and began consuming the neighboring fragments. Everything they touched was instantly deleted from reality.
Vitiate hurriedly retreated from the spreading erasure and circled toward a different memory cluster to escape the collapsing sector.
A deafening, bass-boosted sound effect violently shook the empty space around him.
A memory of the boy fighting a faceless opponent flickered nearby. Every single time the boy landed a physical strike against his enemy, the ridiculous explosive sound effect triggered. The noise rattled Vitiate's spectral teeth.
Vitiate's centuries of refined patience finally snapped. "I have had enough of this circus!"
He unleashed a massive telekinetic shockwave that completely obliterated the combat memory. Blessed silence returned to the void for approximately four seconds.
Then a small convertible car featuring the oversized head of a human male replacing the entire chassis drove past his ankles.
"Let's goooooo," the human car announced in a cheerful, heavily synthesized voice.
Vitiate crushed the vehicle with a casual flex of his will. The car respawned immediately behind his robes and began driving in a tight circle around his boots.
"Let's goooooo."
He annihilated the vehicle a second time. It instantly reappeared.
"Let's goooooo."
Vitiate's voice dropped into a terrifying register that had historically caused planetary governors to weep in terror. "I will erase you so thoroughly that the universe will retroactively censor your existence."
"Let's goooooo," the car repeated happily.
He turned his back on the convertible and kept walking with his jaw clamped shut. This entire experience was completely beneath his dignity. He was an eternal being of infinite power, and a child's degenerate fever dream would not provoke him into losing his temper.
A massive horde of tiny red creatures suddenly swarmed around his boots. The vaguely humanoid vermin possessed oversized heads, distorted faces, and perfectly dead eyes. They clicked their tongues in a rapid, maddening rhythm.
"Do you know the way?" one of the red creatures asked him.
Vitiate attempted to walk straight through the swarm. The tiny vermin eagerly followed his every step.
"Do you know the way?"
"I am actively searching for it," Vitiate answered in a dangerously flat tone.
"He does not know the way," another creature reported to the swarm.
"Show him the way."
"Do you know the way?"
Vitiate stopped walking and slowly turned to face the mob. A terrifying aura of dark side energy gathered around his spectral form, radiating a power that felt cold, vast, and absolutely lethal.
The red creatures merely stared up at his terrifying display. "Do you—"
He annihilated the entire horde in a single catastrophic burst of raw hatred. Every single red creature turned to ash instantly.
The void finally fell silent. Vitiate straightened his dark robes and continued his march toward the center of the mindscape.
Behind him, the faint sound of a hundred tongues clicking in unison immediately resumed.
"He does not know the way."
He fiercely refused to let these vile conjurations bother him any further, though his spectral hands were currently shaking with pure, unadulterated rage.
The mindscape was falling apart at an alarming rate.
Memories collapsed into dust the moment Vitiate drew near, and the white cracks spread through the void in jagged, branching patterns that sliced the remaining reality into smaller pieces.
Beyond those widening fissures, that impossible white geometry continued to expand, though Vitiate could not determine if the shape was physically growing or simply drawing closer to him. He stepped carefully around the glowing fractures, navigating the shrinking islands of the boy's remaining memories.
The strange alien presence had thoroughly saturated the entire mindscape by now. It was woven into the boy's first kill, the stolen imperial ship, the attachment to the blue Twi'lek, and the memory of draining the Inquisitor.
It is everywhere, yet the source remains hidden.
A fresh memory drifted past him, depicting the boy running in sheer terror down a darkened hallway while some unseen entity pursued him from the shadows. A name suddenly surfaced in Vitiate's awareness, though he had no idea where the word had originated.
A memory floated past his shoulder showing the boy running frantically down a dark hallway. Something invisible was chasing the child, radiating an aura of absolute terror.
A strange name suddenly echoed inside Vitiate's mind.
Abeloth.
Vitiate paused and tilted his head. The name carried an ancient, terrible weight that made his spectral form shudder. He moved toward the memory fragment to investigate.
"What is that?" Vitiate demanded of the void. "What are you supposed to be?"
He took a step toward the hallway memory, but a massive white crack instantly tore through the center of the scene. The unseen shadow in the hallway shrieked in agonizing pain as the white light devoured it.
Vitiate recoiled from the blast of raw erasure, his brow furrowing as the fractures multiplied far too quickly. Whole sectors of the boy's life vanished into that cold, empty nothingness.
Vitiate decided that a tactical retreat was the only logical course of action. This mind was currently far too unstable and thoroughly contaminated by bizarre hallucinations to make possession efficient.
Yes, a temporary withdrawal is the superior strategy, Vitiate reasoned, quickly consoling his bruised pride. I shall simply return once this physical transformation concludes. Subjugating a mind this thoroughly rotted will be child's play anyway.
He turned back toward the edge of the mindscape, seeking the exit and the thin spiritual tether that connected him to his sanctuary in the physical temple.
Vitiate halted.
Nothing stood there.
He reached out with his senses, desperately searching for the familiar boundary of the boy's mind, but the dark void simply stretched out endlessly in every single direction.
This is absurd. I am trapped.
He refused to accept the ridiculous premise. He was Vitiate, the Eternal Emperor and master of a thousand deaths, who had walked in and out of mortal minds for three entire millennia. No child's broken mental architecture could possibly cage him.
He focused his legendary will and pushed outward with massive telekinetic force, but the void immediately pushed back with far greater strength.
The counter-pressure behaved like gravity, dragging Vitiate's spectral form backward across the floating street chunk toward the widening cracks. He anchored his presence to a nearby memory of a workbench just to halt his retreat.
"By the stars," Vitiate hissed, watching the white fissures creep closer.
The boy's mind was not merely collapsing; it was violently contracting. The sheer volume of consumed memory fragments and whatever physical horror was occurring in the waking world had turned the mindscape into a gravity well.
Everything was falling inward toward that impossible white shape. It was a singularity.
Vitiate had watched stars collapse into black holes during his long life, but witnessing the exact same physical principle manifest inside a child's brain was utterly unprecedented. A cold trace of fear finally crept into his thoughts, though his ancient greed quickly flared to match it.
If I can anchor myself directly to his core before the final collapse, I will not merely survive. I will ascend.
He abandoned his attempt to escape and plunged deeper into the contracting mindscape.
A glowing holographic rectangle drifted right beside his head, displaying brightly colored text.
BRO THINKS HE'S VALKORION.
Vitiate blasted the rectangle with dark side lightning, vaporizing the letters instantly. Another floating sign popped up on his left.
SKILL ISSUE.
"Sith spit!" Vitiate snarled, vaporizing that one as well.
A third sign manifested directly in his path.
NEVER BACK DOWN, NEVER WHAT?
He chose to ignore the lingering brainrot and leaped over a widening fissure. A white crack opened directly beneath his landing foot.
Vitiate leaped frantically, but his right hand grazed the very edge of the white light as he fell forward. Absolute, existential torment tore through his spirit. It was not a physical wound or a mental assault, but rather the sheer horror of erasure.
The portion of his spiritual form that had touched the crack simply ceased to exist on any level.
"Kriffing hell!" Vitiate shrieked, his imperial dignity vaporizing instantly.
He scrambled backward and severed his own right hand at the wrist with a brutal, desperate blade of concentrated dark side energy to stop the spreading corruption. The severed hand dissolved into nothingness before it could even hit the ground.
Vitiate clutched his smoking stump, his breathing ragged as he stared into the void. He was looking directly into a cosmic garbage disposal.
The gravity of the singularity increased tenfold. Memories dissolved into streams of pure data and light, sucked ruthlessly into the white cracks.
"No, no, no," Vitiate muttered, turning around to run.
He leaped across crumbling fragments of the boy's past. The desert training ground collapsed mid-step. The cockpit, the alley, the market, and the child's bedroom all fell into the white mouth below.
Suddenly, something else moved within the collapsing void. Vitiate felt a wet, ancient, and thoroughly panicked presence writhing through the remaining fragments like a cornered beast.
It was the alien entity he had been desperately searching for. Except it was not trying to conquer, because it was utterly terrified of the singularity and trying to run away.
The entity suddenly noticed Vitiate standing nearby.
"What are you doing?" Vitiate shouted. "Stay away from me!"
The shimmering, wet, and entirely formless mass threw itself directly at him.
"Get off me, you wretched parasite!" Vitiate screamed, swatting at the entity with his remaining hand.
The creature had no proper body, resembling a glistening heap of cold tendrils that smelled of old copper and rotting meat. It ignored his blows and wrapped itself tightly around Vitiate's chest, shoulders, and throat.
It was not attacking him. The miserable thing was using him as a spiritual life raft, trying to pull itself away from the singularity by dragging Vitiate into its desperate struggle.
Vitiate unleashed a frantic storm of lightning, burning the cold tendrils. The entity shrieked with a sound that existed entirely between physical matter and pure thought, but it refused to let go. It tightened its grip, and the combined weight of their spiritual masses dragged them both off the crumbling platform.
They floated helplessly in the air, pulled toward the white mouth.
As he fell into the singularity, Vitiate saw the truth.
He saw a vision of a completely different universe. He watched a child sitting in front of a glowing monitor, manipulating characters through manufactured conflicts and false histories.
He saw his own face on the screen. He saw Valkorion. He saw the immortal Sith Emperor.
He was entirely rendered in digital polygons. He was a scripted villain equipped with a health bar, limited dialogue options, and a pre-determined defeat condition. He was a piece of interactive fiction.
He saw the name Valkorion written on a wiki page. He saw Vitiate, the Sith Emperor, listed as a fictional boss in an online game.
A digital toy. A character created for the entertainment of adolescents.
Vitiate's ancient mind fractured under the sheer absurdity of the revelation.
"This is impossible," he whispered, his existential dread swallowing his anger. "I am the Emperor... I am eternal..."
Vitiate's eternal, unfathomable mind practically blue-screened.
I am... downloadable content?
The horrifying revelation shattered the last of his concentration. The wet tendrils dragged his paralyzed form backward over the edge of the floating sandstone.
The singularity opened fully beneath them like the maw of a starving god.
Vitiate screamed in a mixture of pure terror and profound existential humiliation. The glistening cosmic parasite screamed right along with him. Vitiate wanted to curse, Vitiate wanted to regret, yet it was all far too late.
They tumbled together into the blinding white singularity, crushed into smithereens.
Erased and consumed, fuel for the burning that was transforming the body and the mind.
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A/N: Hoped you liked the chapter, had a lot of brain rot in it so I feel my own brain cells having rotted while researching that stuff. Truly, one of man's worst creation brain rots are.