The void howled as Pain descended, each step echoing like a funeral bell across the remnants of the shattered Bridge. Reality around him bent—not just in space, but in memory, as though his mere presence rewrote history.
Steven stood frozen. The Codex pulsed violently in his hands, torn between submission and resistance.
Pain's wings unfurled. "You feel it, don't you?" he said. "You're not wielding the Codex. You are the Codex."
Steven's breath caught. "What are you talking about?"
Pain's eyes glowed with celestial fire. "You were never meant to be its master. You were its container. Its shard. A living lock. That's why the Origin chose you... and why I need you now."
Aetheron's eyes widened. "Steven—don't listen. It's a trap."
But Steven staggered, memories flickering—visions of his childhood, his first awakening, the power that came so unnaturally. The pieces clicked together.
He wasn't just chosen by the Codex. He was a fragment of it.
Pain raised his hand and murmured, "Return to the whole."
Suddenly, Steven's chest lit up, an ancient glyph blazing under his skin. His body convulsed—power surging, breaking, reshaping.
"Steven!" Zethion shouted, flying to his side, only for Pain to hurl him away with a flick of his hand.
"I created the Absence to devour balance. But you... you are balance made flesh," Pain said softly. "That's why you fascinate me. That's why you must break."
Steven fell to one knee, gripping his head, memories rushing in from a thousand lifetimes—gods, dimensions, endless reincarnations. The Codex wasn't just a book—it was a consciousness, fragmented across time. And he was its heart.
Then—Aetheron plunged his blade into the ground beside Steven, drawing a sigil of binding light. "Hold on," he shouted. "You can resist!"
Steven screamed, golden light pouring from his eyes.
"NO!" he roared, rising to his feet.
He raised the Codex—no longer as a tool, but as himself. The book fused with his body, symbols carving into his arms, chest, and face. A new form emerged: Lethal Ascended, the embodiment of rewritten fate.
Pain grinned. "Ah... there he is."
The two forces collided—magic against inevitability, soul against godhood. The void convulsed as time shattered around them. Past, present, and future danced like flame.
But the battle couldn't last.
Pain struck Steven in the chest, sending him crashing through five layers of folded space. Steven gasped, blood dripping—but not red. Golden ink.
"You're unraveling," Pain said. "And when you do... I win."
Steven looked up, defiant. "You want the shard? Then come and take it."
Behind him, Aetheron activated a last-resort sigil—a tear in space.
"Retreat!" he bellowed. "We're not ready!"
Steven hesitated—then nodded.
They vanished in a beam of light.
Pain stood alone, his smile fading into a frown.
"…He's changing."
---
Elsewhere, in a hidden realm outside time...
Steven gasped awake. His body was covered in glowing Codex runes. The others surrounded him, shaken, silent.
Aetheron knelt beside him. "You're not just fighting for the universe anymore."
Zethion crossed his arms. "You are the universe."
Steven looked at his glowing hands. "Then let's write an ending he won't see coming."
---
To be continued