By the time I was close enough to the ground to make out individuals, I was already close enough to see that the tide of the battle had turned in the relatively short period of real-time I had been falling, which could only mean there had been a shift in the balance between Pinnacles. Gouts of blood hung in the air, people falling into pieces around them in slow motion, even as the force that caused it moved on.

I could see the sect elders fighting with the unknown Pinnacles of the Blood Guard, though it was definitely seeming like less of an even match due to the two new additions on the battlefield; CeeCee was rushing about the square outside of the Stone and seemed to be collecting a sort of wave of around him as he did, of people turning to follow him, though most were completely incapable of keeping up with him. Every now and again, he would stop and kill somebody, before moving on, as the numbers trying to follow increased.

The other addition was Tain, the Blood Marshall and the only other member of my new species I had met. It was *also* Tain that was responsible for all the hanging blood and bits and pieces of people, his extending cuts ripping out in multiple directions to kill whoever was in the way, including the Blood Guard.

By the time I hit the ground, my dread of the impact had long since been replaced by anger, and I barely gave it any thought when I slammed into the Stone, though I would later be glad that I had not fallen on any uneven or loose rubble; I did not need another broken ankle.

Re-Focusing hard, I upped my power output to maximum and set out; I knew I needed to stop Tain – as he was the one doing the majority of the murder – but I did not think I actually could stop him. He was faster than I was, and significantly more... everything else, too. Which meant I had to take out CeeCee.

It was clear to me who CeeCee was, though I was not sure how that was possible; it had occurred to me during my trip down from orbit that the man in the red crown was clearly the Apex of the Multiplicitous Self, though I did not know how. Either I was way more of a badass than I had thought, or he had somehow lost a ton of power. He was neither a Peak Pinnacle, nor possessed of a full Domain, and since I was not that much of a badass, it was probably something to do with being imprisoned for ten-thousand years. Or, a voice said from the dark corners of my mind, it was something the Shadow Faced Guy had done.

I did not want to think about the Shadow Faced Guy having the ability to suck power out of Apexes, he was already creepy and mysterious enough, with his ability to casually move between worlds and his black murder-fog. And arm-ripping chains. And creepy laugh. The fact he was insane did not help. Okay, the Shadow Faced Guy had a lot going for him in the menace department.

I shot off the stone at speed, sailing out over the crowd and towards Aman Almondhead, knowing I was misremembering his name but not caring very much. I had misjudged my leap slightly, still unused to what I was capable of, and ended up overshooting my target, landing on an unfortunate fighter in bloody grey and bouncing off him as he hung in the air, flying backwards from the force of my re-directing kick. Eventually.

Aman saw me coming, a thousand eyes flicking to me in a single, molasses moment even as I approached faster than most of those gathered there should have been able to see. I felt the tug and push of the man’s will contend against my own, but for whatever reason, whether it be Ascended meddling or something I had not thought of, I was my own man, buffered from command by Agency. I ignored the urges, and I could see irritation creep onto the former-Apex's mostly motionless face as he came to meet me.

I was still every bit as fast as he was, and it was actually strange fighting somebody at the same speed as me. Ever since I had arrived, I had trained to make use of my speed, to dodge and deflect, but most of my fights had either been against people much slower, or much faster than I was and so it had not ended up coming up as often it might have for somebody else. Which is not to say it was entirely even, as my red lightning did not seem to enjoy the same protection I did against my opponent’s will, or perhaps whatever tatters of his domain remained; the lashing crimson arcs were still fracturing the stone of the ground, but they steadfastly refused to move in my opponent’s direction.

Frustrated, I flexed my own will, leashing the coruscating lines inside of me to save energy; the red lightning did not provide a speed boost when held in check like the normal stuff did, but it was one less drain on my resources in a fight that seemed like it was probably going to end up using every bit of the energy I was saving due to my internal modifications.

The two of us danced back and forth across the battlefield, across the broken flagstones and cobbles, and sometimes even across the shoulders of the much slower army around us; Aman seemed to show no concern for the damage he was doing by pushing off the lower-level cultivators, and I certainly had no compunction in doing what I could against the grey clad fighters and members of the sects.

Less than a second had passed in real time since I had joined the battle, that period stretched and elongated by my warped perceptions, but for so little time, a good half of the enemy force seemed to have been eliminated, the faster members of both teams moving amidst the greater mass with near impunity. I had cause to recall the fight between the other crown-wearer in the Sha Forest, and his fight against Flame Ever Dancing; I had been unable to follow that conflict at all, but it had seemed to take seconds. With my new perspective, I imagined that fight had to have taken hours of relative time, with thousands of blows traded. I shook my head as I dipped under a snapping jab and rose into a short uppercut, twisting my body around the line of the blow; I had really been in over my head. I still was. But I was close to the surface, at least.

Instinctive Precognition flared to life in the back of my mind as Aman half-stepped out of range of my uppercut, and I diverted the momentum into a flip, throwing myself to my left as a woman wrapped in thorn-covered vines dived through the space I had been in. As I shifted my balance, I felt another warning and moved my right foot back and bent backwards, my weight landing on that foot as a hammer with a head bigger than my body passed inches above me. Neither the thorn-woman nor the hammer were moving fast enough to catch me normally, but while I was engaged with an opponent on equal footing it might prove to be a different matter... and those Foundation stage cultivators were still enough to smash me flat, if they caught me.

Yet another warning rang, and another and another, coming in quick succession as I stepped, twisted and flipped my way through the danger, barely staying ahead of Aman as I fought to avoid the barrage of third parties; the faster moving fighters I had seen at the start had finally caught up, it seemed, though I thought it odd that they were concentrating on me, at least until I recalled who I was fighting.

I wondered if the rainbow light Aman had sucked out of the blood puddle was really enough to go from nudging people off course to controlling a Pinnacle cultivator, a huge crowd and a bunch of Foundations? And all I got was the ability to resist, which while useful at the moment, would likely not increase my overall capacity. Tain had said those that drank from the pool gained power, grew stronger in some way ill-defined by the cultivation system, but I was not noticing any marked increase in my effectiveness.

On the backfoot, all of my attention was focused on defence as attack after attack missed by the narrowest of margins, coming in from every direction as if coordinated; if I was a hair slower or lacked my particular... cheaty abilities, I could have died a dozen times in already in that fight alone.

Thinking of my abilities made me recall some of the speculation around my Agency, that the abilities granted by Xiournal may be the source of the stuff; if that was true, and mine had grown, perhaps I could do something with that. Maybe I could increase the power of my precognition, my healing, or even my luck? As I dodged desperately, I tried to focus on upgrading my abilities one by one, as I would with the bonus points granted by my draconic boss, but nothing happened. Frustrated, I growled, mentally demanding something from the universe, thinking it simply unfair that my opponent would grow so much while I gained so little.

But then, unexpectedly, the universe answered. Or rather, Xiournal did. Between acrobatics, the familiar smoky grey tablet appeared in my vision, violet text bright against its dull surface.

Energy Thief

When you land an attack, steal a portion of your opponent’s total energy pool. Warning: Exceeding the energy thresholds of your energy system may cause fatal damage.

I felt something twist and take shape inside of me, followed by a strange sort of existential heat, like I was becoming somehow more real, more present. Dismissing the notification with a thought, I sent a silent thanks to Xiournal; I did not remember this particular ability from the list, but it had been a long list. And even if I had seen it, it was not something I would have chosen myself, as it simply did not fit the image I had of myself. Though the benefits – and problems – were clear.

It took several subjective seconds for me to find a chance to use my new ability, and it ended up being against the thorn-woman who had first attacked. As I dropped to the ground, ready to throw myself to the side as she sailed overhead of me, I kicked back, hitting her in the stomach and sending her skyward, creating a break in the pattern of attacks. That was not the only effect, however; as my foot made contact, I felt something bright and dense pass from her and into me, sending a joy surging through my system so intense that I almost failed to react in time to an attack. It was as it passed through my energy centres that I got my biggest shock, however. The half-dozen or so attackers I had been avoiding froze. They were all clearly Foundation stage, but as the dense Veritas passed my Core and Exemplar, I was catapulted to at least fifteen-times their speed, reducing even Aman to about a quarter of his previous speed.

Not knowing how long that frozen moment would last - or whether my energy system was about to explode – I quickly and efficiently smashed my fists into the faces of the Foundation cultivators, hitting like the hammer of god and flinging them away from me, broken. Each blow infused a jolt of Veritas into my system, and by the time I had finished the sixth, I was almost shaking with the sensations wracking my body. If that was what it felt like to strike a Foundation level cultivator, what was it going to be like to hit a Pinnacle, I wondered.

Eager to find out, through trepidation gibbered away in the back of my mind, I moved towards the man crowned in blood, and so much faster than he could react hammerd a fist fowards into his head.

Two things happened. The first, is that Aman came face-to-face with the ground, generating the start of what would be a crater in about half a relative hour. The second thing that happened is that sensation blasted me, like some kind of sensory attack, the world turning white like when I had burnt my channels, but this time with ecstasy rather than agony. I felt my channels flex with the force of the Sapience raging through me and I felt sure I was going to break when it passed through my Core and Exemplar, pain like my world cracking tearing through me, enough to contest the liquid joy. And it did not end. The energy entered me like an unending flood, time literally stood still around me in a truly endless moment, the Pinnacles still fighting around the battlefield moving as if through thick honey.

Finally, after what felt like days, the influx of energy ceased and I saw a ragged tear rip its way into existence a short distance away, black fog crawling out of it towards the still rebounding Aman. But they stood no chance, as fast as I was, relative to everyone else, I could have danced circles around anybody on the planet, at least anybody I had come across. At my roughest estimate, every second in the world was more than ten hours from my perspective, and in that state, I did not think the Shadow Faced Guy was any match for me; one echo punch would probably reduce him to atoms.

The euphoria and pain were making me reckless I knew, but I also knew that I might never get this chance again, to be as powerful as I was in that one, unending moment. Gritting my teeth, I considered hitting Aman again, since I knew that while my blow had knocked him to the ground, it had likely done little damage, given the disparity in strength of toughness. I would need to accumulate the damage over time if I wanted to finish him, but I had no idea if my energy system could take the punishment. The ability I had gained was a real mixed bag, it seemed.

Leaving Aman there was a tough decision, but I knew it was better to cut the head from the snake, if I could, than to take out its tail. If the former Apex had been at full strength, I would have done everything in my power to beat him, but I had every confidence that the other Apexes would be able to take him out with little issue, and I hoped that the ocean of power I had sucked out of him would disrupt his control enough for Tain to break free, though the opening of the gate did suggest that he was about to make an exit.

Feeling a little guilt, I ran for the gate and was about to pass through it when I found myself somewhere else, at a complete stop. The floor was transparent glass, and I could see a planet below us. The walls were the same, and I could see stars and distant worlds around me. Off to one side, a golden half-globe sat, and atop it, a familiar white, blue and pink dragon.

“What did I say about other worlds, Alex? Maybe it’s time we had a talk.”