Khan solemnly watched the dispersing dust, not diverting his gaze even after any trace of it had disappeared. The Maker was no more, as if he had never existed in the first place, but the mark he had left on Khan’s life didn’t vanish and led to anger.
Once again, Khan had been forced to do sothing that left a sour taste in his mouth. Sure, killing the Maker had been necessary, but neither the alien nor Khan had established that rule.
Truth be told, that war was about the True Chaos and the mana, with Khan and the Maker simply acting as chosen weapons of those two sides. They had both been caught in a universal conflict of soone else’s creation, playing the deaning role of tools for the real culprits.
And that angered Khan to no end. Instead of settling that matter privately, those two energies had forced an entire universe to fight for them. Actually, they had involved two of those, causing so much unnecessary death.
However, a silver lining existed. As much as Khan disliked it, the Maker’s death could be the last unnecessary sacrifice. It could be Khan’s final compromise since his next opponent was the true culprit behind that universal war.
It turned out Khan wasn’t alone in those thoughts. As he stared at the empty spot where the Maker had once been, sothing heavy flew in his direction, landing violently at his side and generating storms in the process.
The perfectly flat plain had resulted from the quasar’s blast, so the violent landing didn’t break its surface nor lift any dust. So earthquakes spread, but they were hardly concerning, especially compared to the newcor’s state.
Khan let his gaze linger an additional second on the empty spot before looking to his left, eting the Emperor’s single open eye.
The two inspected each other through that mutual look, seemingly having a silent conversation and reaching a common understanding that anyone on the scene would be able to deduce.
The Emperor’s battered state more than described his limited remaining autonomy. He was hurt all over, with torn skin basically littering the entirety of his body, especially his arms. Even his right eye looked to be out of commission.
On top of that, the Emperor wasn’t healing. He didn’t bleed, but only his golden crown and a torn chunk of his red cape had remained on him, showing how his injuries didn’t even attempt to close.
That wasn’t because the Emperor was ignoring his injuries. He simply couldn’t recover. His last effort had almost completely exhausted him, pushing his existence to its limits, leaving him in no condition to heal.
The Emperor saw sothing similar in Khan. The latter was superficially unhard, but his skin and chiseled muscles had lost much of their luster.
Enduring and recovering from the quasar’s blast had taken everything out of Khan’s body, leaving him hungry beyond reason, drowsy, and overall drained.
Clearly, both leaders were in need of a break. Neither of them was sure they could handle another battle at that level, and their next opponent promised to be even stronger.
Yet, neither Khan nor the Emperor considered retreating. No matter how tired they were or how hopeless their predicant looked, they had to advance and face that final threat. It was their duty and the responsibility they shouldered.
The silent understanding made the Emperor cross his wounded arms, at which Khan nodded. Both warriors then diverted their gazes, glancing in the sa direction, looking at the giant floating mountain that had survived all the apocalyptic events that had crashed upon it.
Khan set of, while the Emperor rely jumped, both crossing incredible distances in a single move to appear on the other side of that resilient landmark. They had both wondered whether killing the perfect sons would have changed anything, but nothing of the sort had happened.
The perfectly flat plain stretched under the giant mountain, which floated in utmost stillness above it. Also, its impenetrable, darker-than-black, elliptical gate still hung near its base, earning the two warriors’ full attention.
The Emperor had landed on the flat ground, so he stared at the gate from under the mountain. anwhile, Khan was in the air directly in front of it, hovering a few ters from that black ellipse while studying it with the full extent of his perception.
Nevertheless, Khan just couldn’t sense anything. The heightened perception he had relied upon for most of his life couldn’t even attempt to pierce that pitch-black gate, leaving him virtually and literally in the dark.
Whatever awaited Khan and the Emperor past the ellipse, they had no way of studying it or preparing accordingly. They only knew they had to face it in their terrible state and sohow win, too. Their universe would be dood otherwise.
Of course, there was a promise, an agreent Khan and the Emperor had made when they sealed their official alliance. In theory, that imminent and necessary fight had to belong to the one who got there first.
Neither Khan nor the Emperor forgot about that agreent, either. After all, Khan needed that battle for the long-awaited finalization of his evolution, while the Emperor couldn’t miss out on the chance of fighting a proper God.
The two weren’t even big on cooperation. Khan and the Emperor were lone fighters, but neither of them ntioned their agreent.
Despite the individual reasons and desires, Khan and the Emperor remained leaders with responsibility. They were fighting for themselves and the allied front, forcing them to put aside childish drives.
Besides, Khan and the Emperor were already exhausted, and the next opponent had to be stronger than those who had left them in that state.
Ultimately, and luckily, the respective fights had ended sowhat at the sa ti. So, Khan eventually diverted his gaze, looking down at the Emperor, before stepping toward the pitch-black ellipse.
At the sa ti, the Emperor perford another jump, touching the ellipse alongside Khan. Their bodies t no resistance upon reaching for that darkness, easily traversing it to enter the lair of a literal God.
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