Rey’s mind worked through calculations with speed that his newly enhanced capabilities made effortless.
The Emperor of Death had offered him escape.
The logical choice was to flee through hidden passages while Angels were distracted, preserve his secret power for future deploynt, avoid scrutiny that would inevitably follow if Church authorities discovered what he’d beco.
But Rey had learned sothing fundantal through his experiences in H’Trae, through three years in the Labyrinth, through his manipulation of international conflicts and survival of impossible odds.
Sotis the boldest deception yielded the greatest strategic advantage.
"I have a different plan," Rey stated, his voice carrying confidence born from newly acquired power.
"One that doesn’t require to hide or flee."
The Emperor’s darkness swirled with what might have been curiosity.
"Explain."
Rey gestured toward the sounds of combat above—Wrath’s desperate resistance against overwhelming Angel assault growing weaker by the second.
"The Angels are expecting to find the Emperor of Death. A Tier 3 corruption nexus that’s sustained this dungeon for a millennium. They’ll deploy everything necessary to eliminate that threat—coordination, Divine Artifacts, possibly even direct intervention from their Archangel commander."
"What they’re not expecting," Rey continued coldly, "is a theatrical performance designed to exploit their assumptions and plant directly into Aether society’s inner workings."
The Emperor tilted its massive form—gesture suggesting it was listening with complete attention.
"I propose we stage an encounter," Rey explained. "The Angels breach this throne room and find —sole survivor from a captured group, barely alive, struggling against overwhelming corruption. You, the Emperor, have been interrogating about Church defenses while using as an experintal subject for plague transformation."
"The Angels will intervene and also rescue the helpless survivor. They will engage what they believe is the Emperor of Death in a desperate final battle."
Rey’s expression hardened with determination.
"Except the ’Emperor’ they’re fighting is a construct I’ll create using my new connection to the Labyrinth. Hollow Creature operating at Pseudo Tier 3-equivalent mystical pressure, sophisticated enough to pass casual inspection but ultimately defeatable through coordinated Angel assault."
"You, the real Emperor of Death," Rey gestured toward the massive entity before him, "will withdraws into my soul alongside the Prince of Darkness. Hidden through the sa mystical concealnt that’s kept the Prince undetected since our bond ford."
The Emperor’s darkness intensified—might have been equivalent to narrowing eyes in concentration.
"Risky," it observed. "Angels possess detection capabilities that exceed normal practitioners by orders of magnitude. Close examination might penetrate your concealnt, reveal both the Prince and myself residing within your soul."
"It’s a risk," Rey acknowledged. "But one I managed successfully during my Guild examination, during the expedition itself, even during my encounter with the Angel I killed. None of the Angels detected any abnormalities in my soul structure."
"And now," he gestured to himself, "I’ve integrated Lucifer’s artifact. My soul’s natural state includes irregularities that would trigger detection if examined by entities expecting normal Nephilim baseline. But Angels examining ’survivor’ who nearly transford into Hollow Creature? They’ll attribute any detected abnormalities to plague exposure rather than hidden Tier 3 entities."
The Emperor was silent for several seconds, its consciousness clearly evaluating the proposal’s viability.
"If successful," it finally stated, "you position yourself as the hero who contributed to the Emperor’s defeat. The Church’s recognition becos inevitable—potential advancent to Paladin status, Academy enrollnt, access to resources and training that would take decades to achieve through normal channels."
"Exactly," Rey confird. "And more importantly, I will gain a trusted position within Aether society. Not as a suspicious Nephilim Searcher who needs constant monitoring, but a proven asset whose loyalty was demonstrated through survival of interrogation and assistance in the final battle."
"The deception serves multiple strategic objectives simultaneously—explains my survival of the expedition that killed sixteen thousand participants, justifies rapid future advancent through ’divine blessing’ narrative, and positions to eventually access Holy Saint Academy where I can study Archangel-tier capabilities directly."
The Emperor’s form shifted—definite approval now.
"The True Hollow would appreciate this approach," it stated with sothing approaching admiration. "Using enemies’ assumptions as weapons against them. Transforming near-defeat into ultimate victory through theatrical manipulation."
"Then you agree?" Rey pressed.
"I agree," the Emperor confird. "Though understand—if the deception fails, if Angels penetrate your concealnt and discover both Prince and myself within your soul, they will deploy overwhelming force imdiately. Archangels will arrive. Your survival becos effectively impossible."
"I understand the stakes," Rey replied coldly. "But remaining weak while forces that matter operate beyond my reach is unacceptable. This plan provides a path to power that normal thods can’t match."
Besides, if that happened, Rey still had a contingency.
He would flee then.
The Emperor gestured toward the void where Rey had claid his inheritance.
"Then we proceed. I will compress my consciousness to a minimum detectable state and integrate with your soul structure. The connection you’ve established with the Labyrinth will provide a mystical foundation for concealnt—Angels examining you will sense the dungeon’s corruption influence but interpret it as residual plague exposure rather than deliberate harboring."
It paused, darkness swirling with final consideration.
"Create the false Emperor carefully. It must possess sufficient sophistication to resist initial Angel assault convincingly, but ultimately prove defeatable through coordinated effort. Too weak and they’ll suspect deception. Too strong and they might retreat to request Archangel intervention."
"I understand," Rey confird.
The Emperor of Death dissolved into a stream of concentrated darkness that flowed toward Rey’s chest, sinking through flesh and bone to integrate with his soul beside the dormant Prince of Darkness.
The sensation was overwhelming—two Tier 5 and Tier 3 entities residing within his spiritual structure, their combined presence creating pressure that threatened to tear his consciousness apart.
But Lucifer’s artifact provided a frawork that made coexistence possible. The inherited power acted as a foundation that could support multiple corrupted entities without collapsing under their combined weight.
Rey took breath, centering himself despite the disorientation, then reached out through his connection to the Great Dungeon of Death.
Millions of Hollow Creatures responded to his will. The ambient plague corruption bent to his command. The cathedral’s mystical structure acknowledged his authority.
From that vast reservoir of anti-life energy, Rey began constructing a substitute.
FSHUUU
The false Emperor of Death materialized in the throne room’s center—ten ters of nightmare made manifest, darkness swirling with fragnts of corrupted reality, mystical pressure operating at convincing Tier 3 equivalent.
Rey examined his creation critically.
The construct possessed sufficient sophistication to pass initial inspection—its movents carried intelligence rather than mindless instinct, its mystical signature matched what Angels would expect from corruption nexus, and its physical presence radiated appropriate nace.
But unlike the real Emperor, this construct had vulnerabilities deliberately built into its structure.
Weaknesses that coordinated Angel assault could exploit.
Its limitations ensured it would fall before overwhelming divine power without requiring Archangel intervention.
It was the perfect theatrical opponent.
Rey positioned himself in front of the false Emperor, intentionally damaging his own body to create appearance of recent torture and interrogation.
Broken ribs.
Plague corruption visibly spreading across his skin.
Ether reserves depleted to levels suggesting desperate resistance against overwhelming odds.
The performance had to be convincing.
From above, the sounds of combat ceased—Wrath had finally fallen, his sacrifice buying the exact thirty minutes needed for Rey’s preparations.
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