Level-Up Apocalypse: Surviving With The Assimilation System

"Show me what you feel when everything you care for is taken away."

He found himself back in the throne room lit by silver candles. It took him a moment to come to, feeling an odd sensation at his feet as he looked down.

The warmth he found was a slick, scarlet substance that plentifully pooled at the steps to the throne.

"What…?"

As he looked around him, his stomach dropped as his blood ran cold; the bodies of his friends were twisted and eviscerated.

The knight was left covered in holes, lifelessly slumped against a kneeling statue. Just behind Jasper was the bard, who he looked to have tried to shield, though Nova shared the same fate, laying in a pool of blood.

"Jasper…Nova…"

Just a few steps ahead of him, he found Charlotte laid on the steps, covered in lacerations and bloodied beyond survivability.

"Charlotte…" He weakly said.

Brought such unequivocal despair, the young man collapsed to his knees as the strength even to stand was sapped.

Everything else was ignored; sorrow swelled in his soul as he laid there, succumbing to despair. It rose into a sickening feeling, bringing him to spit the bile from his stomach right there.

Even as the hollow king stood in front of him, he didn't acknowledge the presence as he wept.

"When you've lost everything, there's often two paths one's soul faces," the king's soft voice met his ears. "Rage or Emptiness."

Facedown in a puddle of his own tears and bile, he continues to weep, gripping at the stone steps. The bitter emotions that swirled inside of him intensified like a tempest.

"Which kind of soul are you, I wonder?" The King questioned.

Brought to the furthest depths of bottomless dejection, the self-deprecating plague on his mind was placed secondary. What surfaced was an urge to fix things, even in the smallest way possible—by avenging them.

He pushed his hands against the ground to lift himself to his feet, wobbling as he set his eyes on the one ahead.

"That look in your eyes is much the same as mine once were. Sharpened with rage, yet glistening with sorrow," the King said. "—That's good."

"I'll kill you—!" From the top of his lungs, Finn shouted as he lunged towards the figure.

Click.

—Once more, the staff resonated against the ground as the scenery warped itself. From the sight of overwhelming despair in the grim chamber, he was brought back to the tranquil garden.

The chirping of birds, the leisure chit-chat of those that lived on only through memory, a gentle breeze passing through the fruit-bearing trees—it was peaceful.

"What…?" Finn questioned.

All of that rage and despair he felt a moment prior was washed away as he stood there, looking at the King of Giants who still held an apple in his hand.

"It was all…fake? Now that I'm here, it feels like a dream, but a moment ago—" Finn recalled, shaking his head lightly.

"Forgive me, but I showed you a rather cruel sight. I had to see what kind of person you were," King Zigmund apologized.

"So, did you get the result you wanted? What now?" Finn asked.

It was still left undecided if the King of Giants would be a friend or foe; though it seemed to lean closer to neither.

The dark-skinned royal peered with his moonlit gaze, "I will aid you in defeating my hollow self out there."

"Really?" Finn asked in surprise.

"As you are now, none of you will be able to achieve victory. For countless years, my flesh has soaked up mana and become a godly vessel. Even if you wound it, it'll mend itself," King Zigmund explained, gazing at the sea of flowers to the side.

"Then what do we do?" Finn questioned.

"Strike my heart," King Zigmund answered. "—I'll be able to restrain the movements of my outside body for a few moments at most. That should be more than enough though, I hope?"

"Yeah, that'll work," Finn said.

As the deal was set with the inner self of the King, he extended his fist as a gesture of good will. At the moment, he didn't know exactly why he did it, perhaps just thankful for the assistance or that he resonated with his strife.

The youthful king looked confused for a moment by the foreign gesture before meeting it halfway with a small smile, "I'm counting on you to put me to rest."

"I'll do it," Finn assured him.

As their fists collided, the scent of flowers amidst the tranquil spring faded. A brief, blinding light settled as he found himself back at the base of the steps to the throne, looking up at the hollow shell of the benevolent king.

He glanced to his side, finding the spellblade who looked at him as if having undergone the same experience. The same reaction was found from the other two as he looked around before returning his gaze to the Old King.

"Let's end this," Finn said.

"Yeah," Charlotte agreed.

—Such haste was met swiftly with rejection as the hollow king's staff was waved with a torrent of magical energy following.

Finn quickly moved back with Charlotte doing the same as spiraling missiles of mana launched in every direction from the king's position.

While the knight hunkered down with a barrier to protect the bard, the assassin and spellblade remained agile.

It was a hailstorm of the magic missiles; each impact the dozens of projectiles made exploded with cerulean fireworks.

Finn sprinted along the rightmost wall as the azure struck behind him, exploding as stone chunks flew. He leapt to the top of one of the kneeling statues, glancing over his shoulder to find multiple of the projectiles curving towards his position.

'There's too many to dodge—I have to confront it,' he thought, spinning himself around.

["Deadly Clairvoyance"] [0:29]

It required precise timing as he ducked down and spun himself around to bring his daggers through both of the foremost missiles.

Burning, blue sparks spat against him as he carved into the tracking magic, feeling the heat as it lightly singed his cheek.

The magic-cleaving blades dispersed the projectiles, leaving him with one left honed onto himself. It seemed to come faster than the others, already mere inches in front of his face—

["Impervious"] [4:59]

—Just as it collided with him, he remained unmoved as it exploded into an assembly of sparks. He let out a breath as his muscles relaxed, looking over to find that the spellblade had the same idea.

Atop another monument in the grand chamber, Charlotte confronted an incoming trio of magic missiles head-on.

["Mirror of The Void"]

A structure of glass framed in pearlescent steel materialized in front of her hand, intercepting the incoming projectiles. Each one sank into the mirror like a hook into the sea, dispersing as the spellblade cast it aside.

Finn watched with a certain degree of fulfillment, seeing the newly-acquired skill of the young women. They shared a glance from across the chamber before everyone's attention was placed back on the Old King.

The entire room rumbled as the regal figure produced a torrent of azure radiance around himself. Like a blizzard in a tundra, the mana swirled around the Old King with a howling intensity.

Jasper shouted from the middle of the room, "—Doesn't look good, mates! Something big is coming! Get behind me!"

Though for a moment the assassin considered going for a strike, he decided to follow his comrade's suggestion as the sheer pressure of the mana weighed heavily.

'Shit—where's that help, Zigmund?!' He thought, sprinting towards the knight.

As the light of the magical energy near the throne rose to a grandiose shine, he slid himself behind Jasper just as Charlotte and Nova huddled up as well.

"Raise it now!" Finn shouted as the ungodly quantity of mana made the air hiss.

"Getting right to it, mate!" Jasper yelled in response.

["Absolute Defense of The Impenetrable City"]

The knight set his shield in place as it produced a multi-layered barrier of ethereal castle walls. An impromptu fortress, presenting a heavenly, white shine to the transient barrier.n/ô/vel/b//in dot c//om

Finn kept his shoulder to Jasper's back, helping him stand strong while Charlotte and Nova braced just beside.

From ahead, it was impossible to see the Old King himself through the overwhelming coalescence of mana that took shape.

It took the form of celestial arms, hands clasping one another into one singularity point.

"What's that?" Charlotte questioned.

"Nothing good!" Jasper responded hurriedly.

Each of the nebulous limbs opened their palms, blooming like a flower as the finger presented as petals. At the core was a glimpse into the cosmos themselves, rumbling before it erupted with a burning glow—

[<<Genesis Nigh>>]

A flash of cosmic force released from the core of the mystical hands commanded by the Old King. It held a complexion like that of staring at the bare cosmos, riddled with stars and eternal nebulae.

A captivating, yet horrifying sight, crashing right against the formidable barrier of the knight.