“May I ask what it is you intend to do, sir?” asked Gerard. His eyes flickered down to his tea-table, on which three teacups, a book, and a porcelain plate of biscuits were neatly balanced. “Should I be nervous?”

“Probably not. I might explode a little, but it’ll pass.”

“I…see.” said Gerard. “That sounds rather messy.”

“I suspect it will be!”

“One moment, if you please.”

One-by-one he put his tea set, biscuits, and book into an Interspatial Ring as gingerly as if he were handling sacred texts. Then, brushing a crumb off his collar, he stood. “Sir, the formations wrapping this city were made by a Godking. They suppress any large-scale manipulations of space—teleportations, pocket universes and the like.”

“Oh, I don’t mean anything serious. Covering me briefly is all I need.”

“That much I can manage.”

Gerard held out a hand. Pale fingers, nails trimmed to sharp arcs, skin blemishless, every line clean as if sculpted out of marble.

Then the nails sharpened. Lengthened. Curved. Thickened to wicked sickles which gleamed like cut gems at the tips. Tiny black scales erupted up and down his hand, dark wisps streaming off them like incense. In a flash his hand was the hand of a Midnight Roc once more.

“How long would you like the Lock, sir?”

“Give me… an hour. To be safe.” By then either he’d be dead, or the worst of the explosion would be past. These things tended to go quickly and violently.

“As you wish.” Gerard stood, flexed his fingers, and their tips smoldered with Law. The Laws of Space. Each Law announced its presence a little differently to the spiritual sight. Dorian’s own Fire cackled and spasmed, all sharp edges, while Darkness was slow-moving and stringy. The wisps of Law curling at Gerard’s fingertips were flat lead circles dissolving in air.

Laws of Space.

Gerard knew the Laws of Space nearly as well as the Multiverse itself did. He knew how to make space. How to escape it. How to traverse great distances in a flash. But he was not the only Empyrean who knew these things; and there were others who did them better.

But no-one could match Gerard in Space’s destruction.

The claws flared. Gerard prodded at the air.

A jagged hole appeared in the fabric of reality. Then he picked at it, made it wider, and sank all his fingers deep in. Then he started walking in a tight circle around Dorian, trailing giant gashes in space as he went.

The Spacial Lock was simple. It was a miniature, temporary version of what the most sophisticated Godly prisons made use of. A deity—Empyrean or Godking—condemned the space around another being. In this way they were locked in a sphere of void, a tiny prison.

Temporary Locks like this weren’t airtight. The Multiverse had an instinct to self-heal—it would mend its wounds, unless—as in a true state-of-the-art prison—there was some powerful, constantly fueled array formation which held it in stasis.

The Lock that Gerard was finishing up now would likely handle the brunt of the initial outburst. Whatever remains filtered through as it degraded would be pale shadows of themselves, hardly enough to breach the bombs’ casings.

“Look at me!” said Dorian with a grin. “Making safety a priority! I’m learning.”

“I’m proud of you, sir,” said Gerard. “Thinking twice before setting off explosions next to a bomb silo? By your standards that is uncharacteristic prudence.”

“Very funny.”

“That was not a joke, sir.”

“….”

There was a ghost of a smile on Gerard’s lips. And then he stepped behind a rupture in reality and was gone.

Minutes later—

“All done.”

All that Dorian could see now darkness. Darkness in a cylinder around him, pure dark. It was fascinating to see. It was not like the darkness behind one’s eyelids, where spectral static shapes still flicker out of the gloom, nor was in the darkness of night, nor a room with no light—all tainted alloys. This darkness had the shape and color of emptiness. True void.

“Good.”

There was a bomb nestled in his body, and it was time to set it off.

He put his mouth to the straw, and lit the fuse.

[Level-up!]

[Star Realm: Red Giant]

[94 -> 96%]

Closer and closer they edged. In three revolutions Fire and Darkness would meet. The Fire Planet circled once, and the tongues of qi streaming off it laced with the Dark Star’s flares. They hissed at each other, rushed at each other, and where they met it was like two great waves crashing, wild qi scattering in a frenzy.

Another revolution. The Fire Planet grew restless, its flares leaping higher, its surface bubbling feverishly, Law spasming about it in a furious corona.

[Level-up!]

[Star Realm: Red Giant]

[96% -> 98%]

A third revolution. And Fire and Darkness met.

BANG.

Shockwaves ripped through Dorian’s body. The Fire Planet sank into the belly of the Star.

And then Dorian opened his mouth face reddening. He hacked out a mouthful of blood, but more was coming, and fast, boiling up his throat—

Fire and Darkness screamed out into the world. A flood had broken out of the dam that was Dorian’s body. He couldn’t see. He touched a hand to his face—was that blood? Or tears? His inner world was in turmoil. The Star blew out to nearly twice its size, stretching, shining red beams piercing the gloom of the Star. For a second he feared it was done—the Star would be stretched too far, its binding seams snapping one by one, Dark Law ripped up from the inside—

—and then it reversed. The Star pressed in.

His jaw was locked. Untold reams of qi spilled into the world. There was blood on his hands, blood on his face, blood leaking out his mouth—but his mind’s eye was focused squarely on that Star.

A Star slowly shrinking. No—not quite—compressing. He still saw flashes of crimson through the black as the thing within bucked against it, lashing out like a caged animal, all heat and fury—but slowly, methodically, the Darkness brought its great heft to bear, choking it off, sealing the gaps, blotting out the light.

And it was over as fast as it’d come. The Fire Planet gave one last gasp—a brilliant beam tore free—before it was swallowed up. And Darkness reigned once more. Churning, spinning slowly, that bleak sphere went like it always had…

But it was not over. Something special was happening within.

Fusion!

The Planet had settled. But it was a planet no more. It was now a core. Red, covered—eclipsed—by the black.

Just then, streaks of subtle redness started to surface. As tongues of Dark qi rose and fell they were edged crimson, as though stained with blood…

The Star was settling, the two celestial bodies negotiating an equilibrium. Coming slowly, yet surely, to terms.

Making something new.

[Level-up!]

[Star Realm: Red Giant]

[98% -> 100%]

[Level-up!]

[Star Realm: Red Giant -> Supergiant]

Supergiant indeed, for this black-red spectacle dwarfed its previous Red Giant. It was nearly double the size—and it made his old Sun qi seem comical by contrast!

The question is, thought Dorian as he wiped the blood from his face, licked the blood from his bloody grin—just how much stronger is it?

The Spatial Lock had served its purpose. Little seams had started to creep up its edges, and its emptiness hardly seemed as deep as before. How long did he have? Half an hour? A quarter?

No time to waste!

Back to drinking it was.

…

…

Five minutes passed. Then ten, and he frowned. He was still drinking—where was the level-up? He resolved to go faster, even as his bladder began to strain.

….

…What the Hells?

Just when was this Supergiant—

[Level-up!]

[Star Realm: Supergiant]

[0% -> 1%]

Finally!

He hadn’t a clue what this level of qi mapped to by conventional standards. It had to be far greater than your typical God—peak God? Perhaps early Empyrean, even—or was that too much to hope?

He kept drinking. The Lock about him kept unraveling. It was nearly gone now, and Gerard’s frame was a ghost through an opaque film. His voice warbled in.

“How was it?”

“I yet live!” crowed Dorian. “A tragedy for the Multiverse as a whole, to be sure, but at a personal level I’m rather pleased about it.”

Soon he would be out—he could see the slivers of the outside world leaking in already. A patch of suit there, a slice of stone floor… He froze.

“What the fuck?”

He had been awaiting that sweet, sweet level-up—Supergiant 1% to 2%—but a far nastier surprise awaited him at the other end off his straw. It was filled with only air.

He’d sucked the drum dry!

He sighed as the Lock dissolved fully, and he came face-to-face with a frowning Gerard.

“Sir…” Gerard said uncertainly. “You look—for lack of a better term—like shit. Are you… quite alright?”

“I’m dandy, actually! Besides a pressing need for a toilet.” He hacked up a gob of black blood, which hissed like a pool of acid on the floor. They both stared at it.

“…Let me rephrase,” said Dorian. “I am fairly certain nothing permanent has been done to my internal organs. Though it is true that any chef would be fired on the spot if they burnt a liver as badly as mine is now.”

“So I suspected.” Gerard looked unimpressed. “I have healing elixirs at the ready.”

“Sure, sure. First, though—”

He brought out his ranking crystal.

[Assessment Complete.]

[Updating Profile….]

[User Dao Level: God]

[User Rank: 138-> 18]

[User Percentile: 99.999% -> 99.9999%]

SAINTS!

“What is the rank?” said Gerard.

“…Eighteen.”

“You needn’t joke with me, sir.”

“That was not a joke, Gerard.”

“…”

“Eighteen.”

“Yup.”

“And you’ve not even hit your Bloodline ceiling at God yet. Nor your Dao.”

“Actually, my Qi ceiling’s still a ways off too…”

Gerard just stared. “How much of the drum remains?”

“It’s all gone.”

“…That drum should have been enough to last a God well into Empyrean.”

The way Gerard was staring you’d think he saw a monster.