AN:- We Are sooo back yall! 81% of readers voted to take Anodite to 100 chapters. It's my pleasure. To that end, this chapter is free. I'll be updating Anodite daily except on Weekends. Enjoy. And if you want to read ahead...go to P(@)treon.com/Saintbarbido.
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(General P.O.V)
The transition was not clean.
One moment, the ruined Plumber base surrounded them—collapsed ceiling, fractured steel beams, dust thick enough to taste. The Tennysons were still mid-motion, caught between reaction and panic.
The next—
reality broke as Loth collided onto the tentacled Alien form.
Not shifted. Not warped.
Broken.
Space folded inward like a collapsing lung, layers of existence peeling back as something deeper seized both Loth and Vilgax—no, Chaos—and dragged them through the seams between worlds.
There was no sense of direction. No up. No down.
Only pressure.
Then—
impact.
They crashed into the Crossroads Realm.
And immediately, Loth knew something was wrong.
The realm wasn't just damaged.
It was failing.
Where there had once been an endless expanse of drifting rifts to endless worlds—each one stable, luminous stars, connected by invisible pathways—now nearly half the space pulsed with corruption. Yellow and crimson Chaos energy crawled across entire sections like a living infection, spreading between rifts in branching veins.
Some gateways pulsed violently, their internal worlds frozen mid-motion—oceans halted mid-wave, cities locked between seconds. Others had dimmed entirely, their connections fraying, threatening collapse.
And at the center of it all—
stood Chaos.
It still wore Vilgax's body.
But only barely.
The form glitched constantly—limbs stretching, compressing, dissolving into other shapes before snapping back. It wasn't containment.
It was strain.
"You see it now," Chaos said, its voice layered—multiple tones speaking in perfect dissonance. "This is what remains when Order fails."
Loth didn't answer.
He was already moving.
Power surged through him—pink Anodite energy flaring outward as he accelerated, closing the distance in an instant. His first attack wasn't reckless—it was precise. Condensed energy, compressed and reinforced, aimed directly at Chaos's core.
It hit.
And vanished.
No explosion.
No resistance.
Just… gone.
Absorbed. Similar to his Osmosian's assimilation.
'That's going to be a problem.'
Loth's eyes narrowed as he pivoted mid-air, already adjusting.
Chaos tilted its head, almost curious.
"You still do not understand."
It raised one hand.
The energy that formed wasn't stable—it writhed, fluctuated, as if undecided on its own existence. Then it released.
A beam of raw, unstable force tore through the void.
"Protego Maxima!"
Loth reacted instantly—barriers forming in layers, each one reinforced with overlapping spell structures. The first shield cracked. The second fractured. The third held—
barely.
The force still drove him backward, boots dragging across empty space as he absorbed the impact.
He stopped himself.
Reassessed.
Not resistance.
Not nullification.
Conversion.
Chaos wasn't blocking energy—it was redefining it. Breaking it down, rewriting it, feeding it back into itself.
And worse—
it wasn't alone.
Across the Crossroads Realm, corrupted rifts pulsed in response. Threads extended outward from Chaos, connecting to distant presences—vast, incomplete, but undeniably real.
Loth felt them through Aura Sense. Recognized the flashing forms from his memories.
Chthon from Marvel.
Cthulhu from Mythos.
The Darkness that existed beyond creation.
Fragments of something larger than any single entity.
"Entropy," Chaos said, almost conversational. "That is what I am becoming."
Its gaze sharpened.
"And you… are the key to leaving this prison of fraying Order, my Ragnarok. Together we will spread chaos everywhere!"
"Never!"
Loth attacked again—this time strategical. Not just raw power, but structured interference: transfiguration matrices, destabilization patterns, recursive spell loops designed to disrupt conversion. Even Illusions.
Everything he'd learned from the Wizarding World, Camp Half Blood and Ben 10 World. Yet it wasn't enough.
Chaos didn't block.
It unraveled everything.
Loth's strongest attack, a rainbow colored beam came apart mid-flight, collapsing into inert fragments before reaching its target.
Then Chaos stopped attacking entirely.
It turned.
Toward the rifts, a dark glint in its red eyes.
Loth's eyes widened.
A spear of chaotic energy formed instantly—compressed, focused—
—and fired.
Toward one of the brightest gateways.
The Ben 10 universe.
"No."
Loth moved faster than thought, appearing directly in its path with Apparition. Barriers unfolded in rapid succession—one, ten, a hundred, then thousands. Each one as hard as diamond, reinforced, anchored to both magic and raw energy constructs.
The chaos spear hit.
Like before, the first layers didn't break—they ceased. Erased on contact.
The second wave shattered.
The third slowed it.
Loth gritted his teeth, pouring more power into the structure, reinforcing every layer in real time.
The attack weakened—
but didn't stop, so he redirected it towards the ground, detonating a chunk of the misty terrain.
The rift was unharmed.
Loth wasn't.
A second strike, this time a red bolt, came from the side—faster than his recalibration.
It hit.
Hard.
His defenses buckled, and the force sent him crashing across the void, slamming into something solid—
Hecate's throne.
The impact fractured it.
Loth pushed himself up, his body rippling between matter and energy as his Osmosian physiology fought to stabilize. Chaos energy clung to him, invasive, corrosive, forcing constant adaptation.
Across from him, Chaos approached.
Its form shifted.
Vilgax dissolved.
Albus Dumbledore stood in his place.
But wrong.
Distorted.
The wand in its hand pulsed with unstable power, warping the space around it.
"You rely on borrowed systems," Chaos said. "Magic. Divinity. Structures."
Another step.
"None of them can contain me."
It shifted again.
Now—
Hecate.
Perfect in form.
Completely corrupted in presence.
"Do not resist me, dear boy. True Chaos cannot be tamed, remember?"
Its gaze locked onto him.
"Not by wizards. Not by gods. Not by naughty little anomalies like you."
Loth coughed, forcing himself upright. His aura burned—unstable, but still there.
"Last chance, Lothal" Chaos said. "Become my Ragnarok. My herald across the multiverse. Help me spread real change."
A pause.
"You will be spared. You will be powerful."
Loth stared at it.
Then laughed.
Not loud.
Not confident.
But genuine.
"That's your pitch?" he muttered, wiping blood from his mouth. "Hard pass."
Silence.
"I don't need your power," he continued. "I'll make my own."
Chaos went still.
Then raised its hand.
"Then you will be remade."
The attack wasn't external.
It was internal.
Chaos' physical form broke down into threads of yellow-crimson energy surged forward, phasing through defenses, bypassing barriers, slipping past aura and flesh—
and entering him.
Loth screamed.
Not just from pain.
From the violation.
His Anodite core flared violently, trying to burn the intrusion away. At the same time, his Osmosian nature reacted instinctively—absorbing, analyzing, attempting to understand and assimilate.
The two systems clashed inside him.
Chaos spread through both.
"Remarkable," it whispered, now echoing from within. "A vessel that adapts and reshapes."
Loth dropped to one knee, gripping the fractured throne as his internal systems destabilized. His aura flickered wildly as Chaos forced its way through his energy pathways.
Searching.
For the core.
For him.
The threads pushed deeper, invading the core, infecting the bridge between Loth's soul and body.
"Perfect." It crooned in satisfaction, "Let's see, what lies at the center of you?"
It found it.
And entered.
Chaos expected resistance.
It did not expect order.
Loth's Inner World had changed.
Evolved.
Above, a massive Blue Sun burned—steady, contained, its flames consuming and refining everything within reach.
Below, in vivid structure, a colorful green terrain stretched endlessly, shaped by will, anchored by intent.
This wasn't a mindscape.
It was a system.
Chaos barely had time to process that realization—
before something hit it.
A pink blur tore through its abominable form, distorting its structure.
Blitz.
The massive fox moved faster than the space could register, striking again and again, each impact disrupting Chaos's cohesion before it could stabilize.
Chaos adapted instantly.
Its form shifted—layering Dumbledore's precision, Hecate's authority, Vilgax's raw strength into a single unstable configuration.
A Chaos Chimera.
It retaliated.
Chaotic energy surged outward in waves designed to overwrite everything.
Blue descended with a screech, that might have translated to, 'You're so fucked.'
The phoenix didn't hesitate.
Its wings spread—and Fiendfyre poured forth.
Not wild.
Not uncontrolled.
Perfectly directed.
Chaos's attacks didn't collide with the flames.
They were consumed.
Utterly broken down and fed upward—into the Blue Sun.
"Impossible," Chaos hissed.
From the edge of the Inner World, Loth watched—not as a body, but in spirit form, his awareness embedded within the world's system.
"Not impossible," he said. "Just risky."
Chaos turned toward him. Gone was the bravado, now there was fury.
"You think this can contain me?"
"I don't think," Loth replied. "I planned."
He stepped forward.
"Ever since Hecate told me Order defeats Chaos, I started building this. The perfect cage."
Blitz struck again, forcing Chaos backward—closer to the Sun.
"You have a pattern, a weakness," Loth continued. "Even Chaos does."
Another attack dissolved into Fiendfyre.
"And once I saw it…"
Green energy formed in his hand.
"Once you attacked me..."
Structured.
"I was able to analyze your chaos aura."
Defined.
"And produce its opposite. The only weakness Chaos has. Order."
The power was similar in wavelength to Alien X's aura.
"Order isn't control," Loth said. "It's definition."
The energy expanded outward.
A cage.
Layered, interlocking frameworks calibrated precisely to Chaos's signature.
A Pseudo-Order Cage. Produced by his Inner World.
It snapped shut.
Chaos reacted violently—expanding, lashing, striking every possible point of failure.
There were none.
Each impact fed the system, reinforcing it.
"No," Chaos growled. "This is—"
"Containment."
The cage contracted.
Blitz struck upward—
launching Chaos into the Blue Sun.
The moment it crossed the threshold—
Fiendfyre intensified.
This time, it didn't just consume attacks.
It consumed Chaos.
The entity lashed out desperately, trying to reconnect to the Crossroads Realm—to its scattered fragments.
The cage severed the link.
Cut off.
Isolated.
Chaos destabilized.
Piece by piece, it broke apart—each fragment immediately consumed.
"You cannot—" it began.
It never finished.
The last remnants were pulled inward, compressed, and sealed deep within the Sun's core.
Silence followed.
Loth reformed slowly at the base of Hecate's throne.
The transition back was rough.
His body flickered between states as residual Chaos energy burned out under constant adaptation.
He dropped to one knee.
"…Still hurts," he muttered.
Blitz nudged him gently.
Loth rested a hand against its fur.
"Yeah," he said quietly."I missed you too. Both of you."
Blue landed on his shoulder, small and steady.
He nodded slightly.
"Thanks guys."
Then he stood.
And looked.
The Crossroads Realm was still damaged.
Corruption clung to entire clusters of rifts.
Loth closed his eyes.
Aura Sense expanded.
What he felt made him pause.
"…They're frozen."
Every corrupted rift.
Every affected world.
Paused in time.
Not destroyed.
Held.
"Hecate…" he murmured in realization.
The scale was immense. With all her power, she had still lost to Chaos.
"…I got lucky."
He exhaled.
Chaos had underestimated him, and without the timely Evolution of his Inner World due to Chaos forcing his way in, Loth would have been taken over like Vilgax. It was a gamble that had paid off. And while Chaos was sealed, Loth knew he couldn't kill It, only slowly consume It's essence over time with his Inner World.
Refocusing on the Infected Crossroads realm, Loth straightened.
"Alright."
His voice steadied.
"We fix this."
He looked at Blue.
"Burn it."
The phoenix launched instantly.
Controlled Fiendfyre spread across the misty realm, targeting corrupted rifts with precision.
Loth guided it at first.
Then joined.
With Blitz beside him, he stabilized rifts, reinforced pathways, rebuilt connections.
A rhythm formed.
Aura Scan.
Burn.
Stabilize.
Move.
Again.
And again.
Until—
the corruption was gone.
The realm wasn't perfect.
But it was stable, with numerous stars blazing brightly.
Loth stood in the restored void, breathing slowly.
Above him, Hecate's throne remained empty.
"She's not gone," he said.
"…Just not here."
As a God, she would slowly reform overtime. As long as that took.
His gaze shifted across the vast network. The Crossroads would need an overseer.
"…Until then, I'll handle it."
Then he turned.
One rift caught his attention.
Unstable.
Familiar.
His world. The Riordanverse.
"…Luna," he said softly, missing his little sister.
"Wait a little longer."
Then he stepped back.
"Ready?"
Blitz lowered its stance.
Blue circled overhead.
Loth nodded. Then with intent, a golden rift formed.
Stable.
He stepped forward and disappeared into the next world. Percy and Annabeth were waiting.