Cosmic Crucible

Chapter 9: The Twin-Sight

Seeing Lucien Vance rise, Silas Third feared he’d become a target for the man’s frustration. Life was cheap in the apocalypse. "Sir! I can serve you! Handle all sorts of tasks! Please, don’t kill me!" he blurted in desperation.

Lucien strode towards the ruined diner’s exit, ignoring him.

As Lucien passed, Silas’s terror spiked. He’d witnessed too many powerful figures casually execute others. Gritting his teeth, he cried out, "Sir! I have a special ability! I can be useful!"

Lucien halted abruptly, turning with genuine surprise. "What? A special ability?"

Silas’s face was deathly pale. "M-my eyes... I can see much farther than normal people. Several times farther. That’s how I managed so many thefts."

Intrigued, Lucien crouched, peering into Silas’s eyes. The pupils seemed subtly fractured. "The Twin-Sight?" Lucien murmured, astonishment flickering across his face. This was an Affinity—a rare gift where only one among countless cosmic cultivators might be born with such inherent power. "Does anyone else know?" Lucien pressed.

Silas shook his head frantically. "I didn’t want people thinking I’m a freak. Never told a soul. You’re the first."

A slight smile touched Lucien’s lips. "Your name."

"Silas. Silas Third."

"Alright, Silas Third. From today, you follow me. I’ll get you into the Judicator Citadel," Lucien stated flatly.

Silas’s head snapped up, eyes wide with terror. "Y-you’re going to dissect me?"

Lucien chuckled. "I won’t. But others might. So keep your gift absolutely hidden. Understand?"

Silas nodded, bewildered.

*Those who’ve never touched the stars will never grasp the value of an Affinity*, Lucien thought. The Cosmic Youth Tribunal inducted Affinity Holders outright—a dream beyond most. Silas was a treasure, immensely valuable. Selling him alone could fetch a fortune.

With Silas, a local, guiding him, Lucien spent days scouring Crimson Fortress, including the ruined armories. But he found no trace of what he sought.

"Boss, this is Crimson Fortress’s second-highest peak, after Mount Bellcrest," Silas announced.

Lucien grunted. "Look. Tell me where the military is concentrated. Besides Mount Bellcrest."

Silas nodded, his gaze sweeping the landscape. His pupils dilated unnaturally, growing brighter.

After a long moment, Silas grimaced. "Boss, my sight’s better than most, but I can’t see the whole fortress."

"Practice. You’ll improve," Lucien replied dismissively.

Silas sighed, straining his eyes wider.

"Boss! Look! Is that... someone flying?" Silas suddenly shouted, pointing east towards the sky.

Lucien looked up, startled. A figure streaked rapidly through the air. Definitely not Terran. Like Yasta, this one came from the stars.

The newcomer descended swiftly over Crimson Fortress, took a deep breath, and roared. A wave of oppressive force slammed downwards, buffeting the entire settlement like a gale.

Instantly, alarms blared. Thousands gazed up in awe and terror at the figure hovering overhead.

Legion Commanders like Marcus Flint burst from buildings, faces pale as they stared upwards. "A Sky-Sovereign?"

The ability to fly was the unmistakable mark of a Sky-Sovereign. Crimson Fortress had only one such protector. Where had this new one come from?

High above, Odin gazed down upon Crimson Fortress with undisguised contempt. Like Yasta—like all star-farers—he viewed Terrans as savages.

"Honored Sky-Sovereign," a voice boomed from Mount Bellcrest, respectful despite the challenge. "Why strike Crimson Fortress? This land is under the protection of the Judicator."

Odin sneered. "Judicator? A title you savages bestowed upon yourselves? How dare you wield that word? Tell your so-called protector to crawl out here!"

Fear rippled through the settlement’s inhabitants. This unknown Sky-Sovereign radiated hostility. An enemy.

Marcus Flint and the others exchanged grim looks. They knew. This was another alien, like the one killed days ago, wielding Sky-Sovereign strength. Crimson Fortress was in danger.

A powerful shout echoed. Zane Shaw the Judicator soared into the sky, his massive three-meter battle-axe gleaming. He faced Odin, expression grave. "I am Judicator Zane Shaw."

Cheers erupted from below. Zane Shaw was their guardian.

Odin remained haughty. "You know my origin. Serve me. Perhaps, in time, I’ll take you beyond this mudball, into the stars."

Zane Shaw’s eyes narrowed. "Your origin means nothing to me."

Odin scoffed. "Playing games, savage? Yasta landed near here. Don’t play dumb. Know this: my academy rank far surpasses his. Serving me offers greater prospects."

Zane Shaw tightened his grip on the axe. "We are Terrans. Not savages."

Odin’s lips curled. "Still defiant? Fine. I’ll show you the gulf between your kind and us, the Ascended." A sword materialized in his hand, lancing towards Zane Shaw with blinding speed.

No one expected the sudden attack. But Zane Shaw’s combat reflexes were razor-sharp. The axe haft snapped up, deflecting the blade. In one fluid motion, he spun 360 degrees, the axe rising in a devastating upward arc. Odin jerked back, surprised by the speed, his respect grudgingly rising. He parried, but the colossal force slammed him back a hundred meters, his arms numb.

The shockwave scythed downwards. The earth split open in a hundred-meter-long fissure. Panicked screams erupted as people scattered.

"Impressive strength," Odin conceded, regaining his composure.

Zane Shaw charged, the axe a blur aimed at Odin’s head. Odin sneered, energy swirling around him. His sword met the axe head-on with a metallic shriek, stopping the titanic blow cold.

Zane Shaw pressed the attack.

"Trying to drive me beyond your nest? Fine. I’ll crush your spirit utterly." Odin met the next swing. The impact drove him back again, forcing him out of Crimson Fortress’s airspace.

The brief duel left onlookers awestruck. Humans battling in the sky! Each strike capable of cleaving the earth!

Marcus Flint and the others watched with deep concern. The alien wouldn’t have descended without confidence.

On a distant peak, Silas trembled, witnessing Sky-Sovereign combat for the first time.

Lucien gazed towards the sounds of battle beyond the walls, brow furrowed. *Every student has a Nano-Weave Vambrace. Armor shrugging off Sky-Sovereign strikes. It makes Odin untouchable. He thinks he can’t lose. But Zane Shaw is one of the Seven Paragons. Those seven received legacy from the Neptune Relic. Even a fragment of power from an entity capable of traversing the void holds unfathomable depths.* Lucien might underestimate other Terrans, but never the Seven Paragons. They trained before the apocalypse. *And when Shaw saw Yasta’s corpse days ago, he wasn’t shocked. I noted that. Odin might not win.*

Soon, earth-shaking booms echoed from beyond the walls. Blasts of energy tore the clouds apart. Then, silence.

Moments later, Zane Shaw soared back into view above the fortress. Pale but unharmed, he raised his mighty axe high. A thunderous cheer erupted.

"Stay here," Lucien ordered Silas, then raced towards the battlefield.

The fight had occurred barely twenty kilometers outside.

The scene was utter devastation: rubble, burning high-rises, the earth scarred by jagged fissures.

Nearby zombies and Mutant Beasts had fled or been vaporized.

Lucien knelt, touching a fissure’s edge. Lingering, razor-sharp energy pulsed beneath his fingers—residue of Shaw’s combat technique. *The vine monster? That wasn’t his full power. This was.*

A glint of white caught his eye.

Lucien picked it up. His expression hardened. Nano-Weave Vambrace fragments. *Odin lost badly. So badly his armor shattered. He probably escaped death, or Shaw would have brought the body back as proof.* Lucien reassessed the Seven Paragons. *I don’t know the top three’s strength, but Zane Shaw... likely possesses Scout-tier peak combat power. Shattering a Nano-Weave Vambrace is proof enough.*

Shouts sounded in the distance—other Legion Commanders arriving. Lucien vanished into the ruins.