As the rift expanded, it distorted the surrounding space, making everything look twisted and strange. It had a powerful gravitational force, pulling objects towards its center with an overwhelming strength. The closer things got to the rift, the more they seed to lose their shape and structure.
The sight of the rift sent a chill down the spines of those who witnessed it. It was a haunting and unsettling presence, like a gateway to an unknown and dangerous realm. Its sheer size and darkness instilled a sense of fear and awe in everyone present.
Despite that, Mareia didn't hesitate in being pulled toward it, and she made sure to increase the output of her attack in order to make sure that Aion wouldn't follow her. Still, when she was about to cross it, Aion used Spatial Shifting and then stabbed her from behind.
"Urgh… how… you shouldn't be able to…" Mareia said while she was coughing a mouthful of blood.
"You probably gathered information about on a weird wiki page," Aion said, and then they were pulled by the rift. "It is ti to end this."
Aion ventured bravely into the rift, stepping into a tunnel that seed to transcend ti and space. As he traversed its ethereal pathway, he was imrsed in a srizing display of images, unveiling the rich tapestry of the world's history.
The tunnel resonated with a mystical energy, casting a soft glow that illuminated the scenes unfolding before Aion's eyes. Vivid and evocative, the images danced and shifted, depicting pivotal monts, triumphs, and tribulations that shaped the world's destiny.
He witnessed ancient civilizations rising and falling, their cultures and achievents etched into the very fabric of ti. Great wars were waged, heroes and villains erged, and the struggles of countless generations played out in vivid detail. Aion glimpsed the profound sacrifices made, the triumph of hope against insurmountable odds, and the enduring resilience of the human spirit.
The tunnel of history seed endless, revealing tales of love, betrayal, exploration, and discovery. Aion absorbed it all, the weight of the collective experiences imprinted on his soul. He marveled at the depth and complexity of the world's journey, its vastness and interconnectedness.
As he delved deeper into the tunnel, Aion's own role in the unfolding story beca clear. He saw himself, intertwined with the threads of fate, as a catalyst for change and a beacon of hope. The realization stirred a renewed sense of purpose within him, fueling his determination to confront the challenges ahead.
Aion ventured into a bizarre dinsion, a place where the laws of reality seed twisted and distorted. Everything around him appeared warped as if the fabric of space and ti had been stretched and contorted. Strange rifts peppered the landscape, acting as gateways to different periods of ti.
Amidst this disorienting realm, Aion's senses heightened, attuned to the anomalies that surrounded him. He observed with wide eyes as Vangel, his enigmatic adversary, flickered in and out of existence, effortlessly traversing the rifts that connected to various epochs.
Vangel's movents were lightning-fast, appearing and disappearing in rapid succession. He slipped through the rifts like a phantom, exploiting the temporal portals to his advantage. Aion could barely track his movents as Vangel's speed and agility defied comprehension.
With each appearance and disappearance, Vangel left behind a trail of uncertainty and unpredictability. Aion felt the weight of this enigmatic presence, a reminder of the formidable adversary he faced. The distorted dinsion served as Vangel's playground, enabling him to maneuver through ti and space with uncanny precision.
"Already?" Vangel suddenly stopped and then looked at Aion. "Those guys are really useless… I helped them that much, and they can't even hold you back for a day. Living for hundreds of years and having a second chance didn't make them more competent. It is baffling."
As Aion stood in the distorted dinsion, face-to-face with Vangel, he noticed sothing perplexing. While Vangel had montarily paused to engage in conversation, multiple copies of him continued to erge from the swirling rifts, appearing and disappearing in rapid succession.
It was as if Vangel's presence had fragnted across different tilines, with each copy representing a distinct version of himself. They moved independently, weaving in and out of the temporal rifts, creating a srizing display of temporal duplicity.
The multiple Vangel copies had a disorienting effect, making it challenging for Aion to discern the true form and intentions of his adversary. Each iteration of Vangel seed to possess its own distinct aura, a reflection of divergent experiences and choices from different tilines.
As Aion observed the swirling dance of Vangel's duplicates, he realized the magnitude of the challenge before him. The multiplication of Vangel's presence ant that Aion would need to confront not just one formidable adversary but an army of versions, each potentially ard with unique skills and knowledge.
"Pretty neat, huh," Vangel asked while smiling. "It took a lot of ti and effort to master this, though."
"You are insane… you should have collected all of the fragnts by now," Aion said. "Still, it seems that Tenebres' power isn't enough for you. Since he lost once, you decided to increase his power by tempering with the tilines. Making the fragnts multiply to increase the origin of his power even further."
"You realize things too damn quick. There is no way to surprise you, huh?" Vangel said and then shrugged. "Still, it isn't like I want to do this, but I am forced to do this thanks to your and Malon's stupidity."
"The enemies that destroyed the world and only left you and Arlana alive sure scarred you for life, huh," Aion crossed his arms and then said it.
"... You have no idea what it is to live on a dead world, where you are worst than a worm," Vangel said while glaring at Aion. "I planned for decades for this, to ensure that this world will have a future in one way or the other. You won't stop with this."
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