Dreadixz roared in fury, his massive frame slamming again and again into the enormous boulder sealing the cave's exit. Each impact cracked like thunder—
But the stone didn't move.
Not even a tremble.
A faint pulse rippled across its surface.
Not stone.
A barrier.
"You're wasting your strength," Incarceration said, his voice calm—too calm—as his claw dragged slowly across the cave wall, the sound sharp and grating. "All you're doing is feeding your own frustration."
Outside, the storm began to weaken. Winds died down, snow thinning just enough for battered Lunaranite soldiers to stumble back into the cave. Bruised. Bloodied. Silent. They took their places behind Dreadixz without question.
Dreadixz stepped back, eyes narrowing—not in defeat, but calculation.
"…This isn't natural."
Incarceration stopped moving.
Dreadixz raised a claw toward the surface. The moment he got close—
A force pushed back.
Invisible.
Absolute.
"Mechamio," he muttered. "It's shielding itself."
Incarceration's crimson eyes flickered with interest.
"A selective barrier…" he said. "It recognizes threats."
Dreadixz's wings folded slowly as his expression hardened.
"It's not stopping me because I'm weak," he growled. "It's stopping me because it knows what I am."
Incarceration stepped forward, raising his hand. A dense sphere of nightmare energy formed—tight, unstable, whispering with something deeper than darkness.
"With enough force—"
He flicked it forward.
The orb struck the barrier—
And vanished.
No impact.
No resistance.
Just… gone.
A ripple spread across the surface, then faded like it had never existed.
Silence.
Even Incarceration paused.
"…Interesting."
Dreadixz exhaled sharply.
"So brute force isn't the answer."
Faint sunlight began bleeding through the edges of the cave. In the distance, the metallic groans of Mechamio echoed—alive, waking.
Dreadixz's gaze sharpened.
"Explain the procedure again."
"I'm not repeating myself," Incarceration snapped.
He turned, pacing slowly, each step deliberate.
"What matters is this—" his voice lowered, sharper now, more focused, "—the prophecy doesn't fall through strength."
He stopped.
"It falls when the Chosen Ones do."
Dreadixz's eyes narrowed slightly.
Incarceration turned his head just enough for one glowing eye to be seen.
"There are five of them," he continued. "Five anchors holding that future in place."
A pause.
"So we remove them."
The air felt heavier.
"I was given a directive," Incarceration said quietly.
Not to Dreadixz.
Almost… to himself.
"From something far beyond this world."
His fingers twitched faintly.
"A god that doesn't care about balance. Or peace. Or your war."
His voice hardened.
"It only cares about one thing."
He looked directly at Dreadixz.
"The end of the prophecy."
A beat.
"And if I deliver that…" a faint, twisted smile formed, "I'll be rewarded with something far greater than anything this world can offer."
Dreadixz didn't interrupt.
Didn't question it.
He just listened.
Incarceration continued walking.
"So this—" he gestured vaguely outward, toward the storm, toward the world beyond, "—this isn't chaos."
"It's the beginning."
His tone sharpened.
"Step one is Don."
Dreadixz's expression shifted slightly.
Incarceration's smile deepened.
"I've already begun reshaping him. Breaking him. Twisting him into something useful."
"Scourge Don."
The name lingered in the air.
"He's not just stronger," Incarceration continued. "He's disconnected. Unstable. Perfect."
He stopped again.
"We use him."
Dreadixz's tail flicked once.
"To do what?" he asked.
Incarceration turned fully now.
"To destroy Celestia."
Silence.
"Not conquer it," he added.
"Destroy it."
His voice dropped lower.
"Every tower. Every structure. Every Celestianite that stands in the way."
The cave felt colder.
"And Don does this for you?"
Incarceration shook his head slightly.
"No."
A thin smile returned.
"He does it for himself."
Another pause.
"We just make sure he doesn't realize the difference."
The distant sounds of Mechamio echoed again—louder now.
Dreadixz stared at the barrier once more.
Then back at Incarceration.
"…And when Celestia falls?"
Incarceration's expression darkened.
"Then the world loses its shield."
His voice dropped to a whisper.
"And the Chosen Ones lose everything holding them together."
A final pause.
"And then…"
His smile returned—cold, certain.
"We kill them. Even Don."
At Mechamio
"KAYSON?! KAYSON?! DUDE—STOP WHATEVER YOU'RE DOING, KAYSON!"
My voice ripped through the chaos like a blade.
Mechamio was unraveling. Screams bounced off metal walls. Citizens sprinted in every direction, eyes blown wide, tripping over gears, pipes, and each other like panic was contagious.
The ground lurched.
The stone monster—Kayson's full beast form—threw his head back and roared.
The sound slammed through the city, rattling buildings, shaking loose dust and rust that rained down like shrapnel. My chains bit harder into my palms as his massive, clawed fist started descending toward the bridge.
Cool. Awesome. We're about to get flattened.
Okay, Don—think. Fast.
If that fist lands, the bridge is gone.
If the bridge goes, we go.
End of story.
"STAY IN POSITION!" Angel shouted, knuckles white as he clung to the railing.
The bridge screamed.
Metal warped. Bolts snapped. The entire span tilted violently as the fist connected, shockwaves tearing through the supports.
That's when it broke.
The bridge gave way beneath us.
"ANGEL—" I started.
But we were already falling.
Chains tore free. Gravity punched my stomach upward. Wind howled past my ears as the city rushed up way too fast.
For half a second, there was nothing.
Then—
Blue light detonated beneath us.
Power the Zenith surged upward like a comet, one glowing hand sweeping beneath the falling crew. Energy snapped outward, catching us mid-drop in a wide arc of radiant blue.
The fall stopped.
Not gently.
Abruptly.
Like reality had slammed the brakes.
Prince flailed. "OH COME ON—I WAS EMOTIONALLY PREPARED FOR IMPACT!"
Power's grip held firm as the rest of the bridge collapsed behind us in a screaming avalanche of metal.
With a controlled motion, he lowered us to the street below. Boots hit pavement hard. Knees buckled. But we stayed upright.
Alive.
Power landed last, light dimming slightly as he straightened.
"Everyone okay?" he asked, calm like this was a routine drill.
Angel nodded. "All present."
Olsen exhaled hard. "That… would've killed us."
Someone in the crowd pointed.
"WAIT—IS THAT POWER?!"
Another voice followed. "HE JUST SAVED THEM!"
A ripple of cheers spread through the nearby streets—surprised, loud, awed.
Power acknowledged none of it.
He glanced up once at the ruined bridge… then stepped back, attention already shifting away from us.
Which was good.
Because Kayson wasn't done.
I bent over, hands on my knees, chest burning.
"Oh thank—thank everything—we survived…"
Bad timing.
Another roar thundered through the city.
See, Kayson's twelve. Same age as me. Built like a wrecking ball with zero off switch. He's a Stone Mover—Size Element—which means growing and shrinking is basically a hobby.
Max size?
Let's just say landmarks get nervous.
I knew him from Insane Middle School—yeah, that nightmare. Walking mountain. Bottomless appetite. His stone form was massive, ancient-looking.
And the way he eats?
Violent.
He ripped a long, narrow chunk straight out of what remained of the bridge.
SCREEEECH.
Metal screamed as it tore free.
Then he bit into it.
Crunch. Grind. Snap.
Like infrastructure was his comfort food.
Kai's ears flattened. His claws scraped the ground once—slow, deliberate. The Hric looked… impressed.
I still don't know why Kayson was even in Mechamio. He's supposed to be chilling in the Rufty Mountains with the other Stone Movers.
Instead, here he was, treating the city like an all-you-can-eat buffet.
"Mmph! This is incredible!" Kayson boomed happily.
"Can't wait 'til they rebuild it again in a few years!"
People around us slowly relaxed. The screaming died down. Citizens started moving again—like this was just another Tuesday.
Then Kayson started shrinking.
Tower to building.
Building to truck.
Truck to… nightstand.
He hopped down with a BOOM, shockwaves rippling through the streets.
Still chewing.
He lumbered over, swallowed the last chunk, and licked his fingers.
"Artificially fantastic," he said, grinning.
Up close, it was obvious—his entire body was stone. No skin. No give. Living rock. Not a golem.
Born this way.
I crossed my arms. "So. How was dinner?"
"Oh, great! Good seeing you guys!"
"WE ALMOST DIED," Demaurion snapped, blasting him with water.
It splashed harmlessly off Kayson's chest.
He laughed. "Hey! Sorry! I was just trying to get the bridge."
Then his eyes lit up.
"Wait—are you guys heading to the Avangard Battles?"
"Yeah," Olsen said. "Only to find the next beast for Don to kill."
Kayson practically vibrated. "Me too! Wanna tour Mechamio first?"
"Nope," I said instantly. "Kill and move. No sightseeing."
Sophia groaned. "Can we just get to Gordiman's Bothole already?"
Now—King Gordiman?
The dude's clueless.
Like can't-find-his-own-crown clueless.
And yet somehow, he still wears one.
The sun dipped low, painting the sky blood-orange fading into sapphire blue. Mechamio thrummed beneath our feet—gears clanking, pistons hissing, steam venting like a tired dragon exhaling.
Robots marched by, movements just a little too perfect.
And then the thought hit me.
Not should I kill my friends.
Something worse.
What if they're all still laughing?
The noise. Fifth grade. The looks. Incarceration replaying it all like a broken tape.
I wasn't running from monsters.
I was running from being judged.
"Don?"
Ella's voice cut through it.
"Yeah," I said quickly. "I'm fine."
She didn't believe me. But she stayed.
"And we're here!" Kayson said.
The Colosseum rose before us.
Steel. Gears. Violence.
Kai froze beside me, eyes locked on the pit.
High above, King Gordiman stood.
"WHO WANTS TO SEE THE CHOSEN ONES FIGHT?!"
The stadium erupted.
"Let me introduce… our Crystallized Celestianite—Don!"
The cheers hit hard.
"And his opponent—RYAN THE MECHANITE WHEELER!"
The pit exploded open.
Ryan landed in sparks and dust, drills spinning, ego maxed.
"OVER HERE, DON!"
Energy surged through my arms.
Kai bared his teeth.
I stepped forward into the sand.
"Let the battles begin."
And the storm answered.
10,000 Years into the Future, Celestia
The sky bled orange.
Not the warm, comforting kind—this was the color of a world giving up. A dying sun dragged itself toward the horizon, smearing sorrow across the clouds as a dystopian city rotted beneath it. Towers leaned at wrong angles, snapped spines of steel and concrete frozen mid-collapse. Streets were buried under wreckage. Fire ran wild through the ruins, crawling up walls and licking broken windows while smoke coiled upward, thick and choking, carrying the stench of ash and melted metal.
Avangard was dead.
And standing above it all—alone—was Duke.
He sat on the edge of a shattered skyscraper, knees drawn in, one arm resting against them as neon-green energy crackled faintly along his cybernetic cannon. Wind rushed past him in low, endless whooshes, tugging at his hair, whispering through the city's hollow bones. His suit glowed in sharp contrast to the ruin: matte black plating sliced with vivid green light. A glowing V burned across his chest. Energy veins streaked down his arms. Jagged lines flared along his legs like fractures in reality itself.
His helmet—sleek, metallic, birdlike—reflected the burning skyline. A neon visor masked his eyes, but it couldn't hide the glow beneath.
Blood slipped from his nose.
Drip.
Drip.
He didn't wipe it away.
"…Did Avangard really have to end like this?" he muttered.
The wind didn't answer.
Duke leaned back, staring up at the fractured sky. "Out of every future… every branch… there wasn't another way?"
His visor flickered—timelines overlapping, collapsing, replaying. Cities burning. Heroes falling. Power Gems flaring—and failing.
"I travel ten thousand years forward," he growled, fists tightening, trembling, "just to watch everything die anyway?"
Silence.
"…There has to be one more timeline." His voice cracked. "One. Where the Heroes win. Where they don't."
A sound warped the air behind him.
A sharp, digital crrrrk—like reality skipping a frame.
Duke's head snapped around.
One neon-green eye flared brighter as the rooftop rippled, dust lifting into the air. Space itself bent, glitching and sparking as green static tore open a hole in the world. Pixels bled into existence, stitching together a figure piece by piece.
The distortion stabilized.
Boots hit concrete.
Eli stepped forward, fists clenched, hair whipping wildly in the wind. Green wyvern wings unfurled slowly behind him, catching the dying light.
"You're here…" Duke said, disbelief tightening his voice.
Energy buzzed between them.
Duke rose to his feet and removed his helmet in one smooth motion, setting it aside. "What brings you this far into the future?"
Eli's eyes never left him. "I was gonna ask you the same thing."
They stood facing each other, wind circling like a warning. Duke loomed taller—but Eli didn't flinch.
Eli moved first, pacing around him, eyes locked. "I came ten thousand years forward to make sure no chrono-bender wrecks reality again."
Duke's eye widened. "Again? How do I 'wreck' it?"
"Because saving the future is impossible," Eli said coldly, sitting near the edge of the roof. "Unless you mess with the past. Or the present."
Duke stomped forward. "You think I don't know that?!"
SNAP.
Time froze.
Duke locked mid-step, energy crackling uselessly around him.
Eli exhaled slowly, hair drifting in the frozen air as he looked over the dead city.
"You do know. That's an issue."
A green orb spiraled into existence above his palm—pure, unstable energy. He crushed it effortlessly. It shattered like glowing glass, scattering into the wind.
"The Power Gems don't fix the future," Eli said. "They poison it."
He turned back to Duke. "You already proved that. In another timeline."
His eyes hardened. "You shattered everything."
"Do you agree with me?" Eli asked.
SNAP.
Time resumed.
Duke staggered, catching himself. His jaw clenched.
"This is my time," he snarled. "My chance to be the universe's hero. If you want to stop me—" His eyes burned. "—you'll have to kill me."
Eli's wings spread wide. Timeless energy surged around him, warping the air.
"This isn't my choice," Eli said quietly. "It's yours."
Duke raised his cannon. Neon energy pulsed like a heartbeat.
"Then make your move."
Eli vanished.
BLITZ—
A green streak detonated into Duke's chest, launching him skyward. Eli followed instantly, slamming him down—
BOOOOM!
Duke hit the ground hard enough to send a shockwave ripping through the city. Buildings crumbled. Windows exploded outward.
Eli hovered above, arms crossed, aura blazing.
Duke fired.
A massive neon beam tore upward—
Eli phased straight through it.
FLASH—CRACK!
Eli appeared above Duke and drove his heel into his head.
KRAAASH!
The explosion tore buildings apart. Duke spiraled into the sky. Eli chased—green and black streaks ripping through clouds, twisting, colliding—
Duke slammed Eli midair—
Eli crashed through a tower—
Glass. Steel. Fire.
Duke reappeared above him, cannon glowing violently.
"Enough."
FWOOOOM—
The beam carved straight down, engulfing Eli in blinding green light. The impact formed a massive energy dome that rippled outward, shredding the city.
Debris burst apart—
Eli tore free.
Blood streaked his face. His wings beat hard.
Duke hovered before him.
"Duke," Eli said, breath heavy, eyes blazing. "You think this is heroic. It's reckless."
"You're twelve," Duke shot back. "You don't command me."
Eli snapped.
Time froze again.
He pulled back his fist—timeless energy screaming, green lightning threading.
Then—
SHATTER.
The punch landed.
Reality collapsed inward. A massive shockwave erased the city—soundless, absolute. The sky cracked. Time reversed violently—
And the alternate future vanished.
—
Duke blinked.
He sat on a school rooftop.
Sunlight. Blue sky. Birds.
Insane Middle School.
Iris Town stretched peacefully below—green valleys, winding rivers, Nomanites and Elementanties living quietly.
No fire.
No ruins.
No Eli.
Duke stared at his hands, breathing hard.
He had something to finish.