The ground trembled. Columns snapped like reeds. Water exploded upward from the fissures, flooding the chamber in seconds.
Dillion could barely stand. His hands pressed over his ears as a second roar followed — deeper, older, divine.
Sobek — the reborn God of the Ancient Waters — rose to his full height.
Three meters of pure muscle and fluid, his scales glimmering between stone and current, the crest on his head glowing like molten sapphire. The water from the Aquaduct circled his form, endlessly cycling through the wounds and cracks of his half-corporeal body.
Roker stumbled backward, panting, laughing madly.
“Yes! YES! Purge this cursed place! Drown the outsiders!”
Sobek’s head turned — and its gaze fell directly on Dillion.
Stark pushed himself up from the rubble, his armor sparking, voice rough.
“Dillion—stay behind me.”
The god’s roar built again, shaking loose entire slabs of ceiling stone.
Light from above flickered as the surface of Sora itself began to quake.
The bright barrier sealing the entrance suddenly pulsed — once, twice — then surged with unstable light. The ground beneath everyone’s feet shook as a low vibration hummed through the earth.
Kael grabbed the wall for balance. “What the hell was that?”
Lana’s spear trembled in her hands. “That wasn’t Stark or Dillion… that was something else.”
Then the sound hit — a thunderous, echoing roar that silenced the entire capital outskirts. Birds scattered from the ruins, and even the barrier itself seemed to shudder.
In the next instant, the guild members’ Eden bracelets and terminals all chimed simultaneously.
A bright crimson warning filled the holographic air:
?? NAMED BEAST DETECTED – CLASS: GOD-TIER
Location: Capital Aquaduct – Depth Level 4
Designation: SOBEK, GOD OF THE ANCIENT WATERS
All non-authorized personnel are to EVACUATE the perimeter.
May’s hands flew to her mouth. “Dillion… oh no.”
Valen’s face hardened. “That idiot just pulled a god.”
Kael stepped forward, staring at the sealed barrier glowing brighter with every tremor.
“What do we do, boss?”
Valen’s gaze stayed fixed on the light. “We wait.”
Another roar — this one sharper, angrier — rolled through the Aqueduct like a storm.
Valen tightened his grip on his sword, the air around him beginning to stir.
“…And if that barrier breaks—”
He took one step forward, wind gathering around his boots.
“—we go in.”
The roar faded into a low hum — the sound of the Aquaduct itself breathing.
Rubble shifted. The floor rippled beneath a thin layer of water that now glowed faint blue.
“Dillion!” Stark’s voice cut through the chaos. He sprinted across the crumbling floor his red aura blazing like wildfire.
But before he could reach Dillion, a figure stepped in his path — Roker, his eyes burning with twin embers of hatred and zeal.
“You won’t be able to get past me.”
Roker’s blade struck the ground, and black ripples surged outward, cutting Stark off.
“Your time is over, Stark. You should have stayed dead with the others.”
Stark growled, gripping his sword. “You’re still talking like a man who doesn’t understand what he’s done.”
“Understanding?” Roker smirked. “No, Stark. This is faith.”
With that, he raised his hand and shouted:
“Sobek! End the outsider!”
The air trembled. Water around the temple began to swirl violently toward Dillion, pooling beneath the god’s massive frame.
But Sobek didn’t move.
The towering figure stood motionless, eyes glowing like twin suns beneath the floodlight glare. His crocodilian snout dipped low, water dripping from his jagged teeth. The silence grew heavy — suffocating.
Then, the god’s voice filled the temple — deep, resonant, echoing through Dillion’s bones:
“You there… boy of the foreign soul.”
Dillion froze, every instinct screaming to run.
Sobek leaned closer, his gaze sharp and ancient.
“Of what importance are you?”
His words rolled like thunder, vibrating through the water. The very current bent toward Dillion as if seeking his answer.
Behind him, Stark shouted, still fighting to push through Roker’s dark barrier.
“Dillion—don’t answer him! Gods of the Old Waters—they judge through truth!”
But it was too late. Sobek’s golden eyes locked onto Dillion’s Soul Mark, glowing faintly through the armor. The water rippled again, whispering in a language older than Sora itself.
“Your essence… does not belong here,” Sobek rumbled.
“And yet… it binds to this world. Why?”
The god tilted his head, voice lowering.
“What are you, little one?”
The entire Aquaduct trembled with each strike between Stark and Roker — flashes of red and white light illuminating the flooded temple like lightning inside a storm.
Meanwhile, Dillion stood knee-deep in rippling water before Sobek, the god’s towering frame blotting out the faint glow of the runes along the walls. The air around him shimmered with divine pressure — a weight that pressed against his lungs and soul.
“You’ve tasted power not your own,” Sobek growled, his voice reverberating through the cavern. “You play at divinity with mortal hands. Let me show you the difference.”
Sobek extended one clawed hand. The water beneath them rose in defiance of gravity, twisting into a colossal serpent of liquid that coiled around Dillion.
Dillion raised his arms instinctively. Water Manipulation — full focus.
The serpent’s head lunged. The impact never came.
The water stopped — suspended midair, vibrating violently between Sobek’s will and Dillion’s.
“You dare… resist me?”
Dillion’s teeth clenched, his muscles trembling. “If I stop moving, I’m dead. So yeah, I dare.”
Sobek’s golden eyes narrowed. His other hand slammed into the water, summoning dozens of rippling blades that shot forward like arrows. Dillion spun, pushing the moisture outward in a barrier of condensed mist, deflecting some — but not all. One blade cut across his side, glowing blue where it struck.
He staggered back, breathing hard, watching the gash seal with faint azure light.
Sobek tilted his head.
“Your soul bleeds light… Curious.”
He raised both arms. The water surged, roaring like a tidal wave.
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Dillion pressed his palms together, shouting,
“Condense!”
The tidal wave froze in place — suspended in a glowing blue dome that pulsed with energy. The two forces locked again, divine might pressing against mortal will.
For the briefest moment… the god faltered.
Sobek blinked, surprise flickering behind those ancient eyes.
“Impossible… Ancient water answers to me alone.”
Dillion grinned through the strain. “Guess it found someone new to listen to.”
The dome exploded outward, water cascading down in a shimmering rain that filled the air with mist. Sobek stepped forward, lowering his arms — studying Dillion with something that looked disturbingly close to respect.
“You wield the sea’s whisper as though it knows your name,” the god murmured. “Perhaps… this is why the Wardens fear you.”
Behind them, another crash shook the temple — Stark and Roker still locked in their deadly dance. Sparks of white fire and black mist collided across the ancient stones.
Sobek looked toward the light, his expression darkening.
“Your world brings chaos to ours. If you truly wish to belong here, Dillion Rogers… then survive this.”
With that, the god raised his trident from the waters seemingly grabbing the trident out of the waters. The temple waters erupted once more — and the true battle began.
The Aquaduct floor quaked as Sobek planted his claws, his voice echoing through the flooded temple.
“So, mortal… water bends for you. Then let’s see if your body does the same.”
He launched forward with terrifying speed — a blur of divine muscle and scaled might. Dillion barely had time to raise his shield before the god’s trident crashed down.
BOOM.
The impact detonated through the temple, cracks spiderwebbing out from beneath Dillion’s boots. The air shook with the force. For an instant, he thought his arm had shattered.
But he was still standing.
That’s… the strongest hit I’ve ever felt.
His shield groaned under the pressure, its etched runes flickering with blue light as Sobek pushed harder, driving him into the fractured stone.
Dillion’s teeth clenched. His muscles screamed. He shoved back, water whipping around him like liquid armor.
“You’re not the only one who can hit hard!”
He twisted his body, deflecting the trident just enough to break the clash. Sobek slid back a step, eyes narrowing — not in rage, but in something like intrigue.
“You resist divinity with mortal steel. Perhaps I misjudged you.”
Dillion’s breathing was ragged. His whole arm ached from the blow, his shield’s edge glowing from the strain. But he lifted it again.
“Guess we’re both learning new things today.”
Sobek grinned — a fearsome, fanged smile. Then he dropped his trident entirely, letting it sink into the water behind him.
“Then let us test flesh against faith.”
He lunged forward again, this time bare-handed. Each strike was a blur — claws slashing, fists slamming, shockwaves bursting from every impact. Dillion blocked what he could, rolling, ducking, deflecting with his shield and striking back with quick bursts of Water Manipulation.
For every strike Sobek landed, Dillion countered with grit and precision — weak points, deflections, evasions born of endless loss and hard-won instinct.
But still, Sobek was overwhelming.
Dillion was driven back step by step until his back hit a cracked pillar. The god’s shadow loomed over him, water dripping from his claws.
“You fight like one born of Sora… but your soul says otherwise,” Sobek murmured, lowering his stance. “Tell me, mortal. What are you really fighting for?”
Dillion tightened his grip on the shield, his heart pounding.
“For everyone who believed I couldn’t.”
For a split second, Sobek hesitated — something flashing behind those golden eyes.
Then, from the far side of the chamber, another explosion shook the walls — Stark and Roker’s battle reigniting, white and crimson energy crashing together like twin suns.
Sobek turned his head slightly, his expression unreadable.
“You may yet have a place in this storm, Dillion Rogers… but let us see if you can stand when the tide turns.”
And with that, the god vanished in a surge of mist — leaving Dillion gasping, shield trembling in his hands, the temple echoing with the sounds of divine warfare.
Mist coiled around the chamber like a living thing, swirling tighter with every heartbeat.
Dillion spun in place, his hand raised, trying to focus through the haze.
This… this is my move…
Sobek’s deep laughter rolled through the fog, echoing in every direction.
“So this is how you see your enemies die? Hidden in the mist, watching them choke on fear?”
Blue light flickered from Dillion’s palms as he tried to keep track of the god’s movement, but Sobek’s shape blurred and vanished again.
He’s copying me.
Water rippled behind him. Instinct took over. Dillion raised his shield—
CLANG.
Sobek’s trident struck with the weight of a collapsing world. Dillion’s legs buckled as he was flung back across the flooded floor. His vision spun, mist filling his lungs.
Through the chaos, another flash of light cut through the fog — red and white colliding again.
Far across the temple, Stark and Roker continued their own storm.
Every strike they exchanged tore the air apart. Fragments of the ancient walls crumbled into the depths.
But Stark noticed it — the tremor in Roker’s sword hand. The wild flaring of red and black energy spiraling out of control.
Roker fell to one knee, gripping his chest, breathing raggedly.
“Control… slipping…” he muttered, his voice a growl twisted by pain.
Stark stood over him, sword pointed low, eyes filled with sorrow.
“You may never go back to who you once were, Roker,” he said softly, “but have faith. I’ll show you what you could become.”
His red energy began to shift — glowing gold, bright and pure. The very air trembled as Stark raised his free hand toward the heavens.
“I was once blessed by the heavens… touched by the Goddess… I forsook my vows long ago.”
“But now I call upon my broken soul — allow me to walk once more among the fallen, so that I may end this cursed evil.”
The temple shook.
Above him, a golden magic circle formed, spinning slowly. Radiant light poured down as a golden spear was born from its center, descending like a divine comet.
A halo shimmered above Stark’s head. His expression hardened — resolute, mournful.
He looked down at Roker.
“Once you awaken, this… is what you lose.”
His fingers closed around the spear’s shaft. The halo above him cracked, then shattered into golden fragments that scattered like fireflies into the air.
Roker stared up, eyes wide with shock and despair.
“Stark… no…”
Stark lowered the spear, its tip glowing with impossible brilliance.
“It’s too late for me. But maybe not for you.”
The temple glowed gold and crimson — divine and corrupted light colliding in one final, unbearable crescendo.
Roker’s hands trembled as the golden light from Stark’s spear burned across the chamber. His corrupted aura cracked, flickering between red and black, pain twisting his features. Then, with a scream of rage, he lunged upward, his blade cutting through the air like a shadow.
“You’ll never stop me!”
Stark turned his head slightly — calm, almost regretful.
Their weapons met midair.
CLANG.
The force echoed through the Aquaduct, rattling the ancient pillars. Sparks of red and gold rained down as Stark’s divine spear caught Roker’s sword. For a heartbeat, the clash held — then the golden light flared.
With practiced grace, Stark shifted his stance, twisting his wrist. The spear pierced through Roker’s chest, embedding itself deep.
Roker’s breath caught — his sword falling from his grasp as his knees buckled. His fingers wrapped around the glowing shaft, trying to pull it free. But no matter how hard he strained, he couldn’t move.
“S–Stark…” he rasped, his voice breaking.
Stark’s eyes softened with sorrow.
“Seal.”
Golden runes burst from the spear, wrapping around Roker’s body like ethereal chains. His movement froze completely — time itself seemed to reject him. The runes pulsed once, twice, then settled, locking him in place.
“You may yet find peace in the silence,” Stark whispered, stepping back. “I’ll return to finish this… when you’ve quieted your rage.”
He turned toward the mist swirling across the far side of the temple — where Dillion was still struggling against Sobek’s haunting fog.
Without hesitation, Stark gripped the hilt of his greatsword, drawing it with one smooth motion. The golden spear dissolved into light behind him.
“Hold on, boy…” he muttered, sprinting forward, the ground cracking beneath his feet. “You’ve fought long enough alone.”
He leapt through the mist, golden energy bursting around him — a beacon cutting through the god’s fog as he charged straight toward the clash between mortal and divine.
The air trembled.
A deafening crash split the silence as Sobek, the ancient god of waters, slammed down behind Dillion, shaking the temple to its core. The impact sent waves rippling across the flooded stone floor. Dillion barely had time to turn before the god’s massive trident arced downward like divine judgment—
CLANG!
A golden blur intercepted the strike.
Stark stood between them, greatsword raised, the force of Sobek’s blow splitting the water beneath his feet. Sparks of gold and sapphire energy surged through the mist as Stark’s boots dug into the stone.
Dillion, panting and half-soaked, looked up in awe.
“Stark…?”
Without taking his eyes off Sobek, Stark spoke, his tone firm yet proud.
“You’ve done well, boy. You stood your ground where most would have fallen.”
He pushed Sobek’s trident back with a flash of divine strength, the water hissing as it met his holy energy.
“I’ll handle this from here.”
Dillion froze. “But—”
Stark glanced over his shoulder with a half-smile, that same calm authority in his eyes.
“You’ve already proven enough. Now rest.”
Sobek’s grin widened, sharp and godlike, his scaled chest rumbling with a low laugh.
“Handle this?” he hissed, stepping forward, his golden eyes narrowing. “So it’s true. You reek of divinity. You are a Warden.”
He paused, studying Stark’s aura as the light around him pulsed and cracked. Then Sobek’s voice twisted with contempt.
“No… not a Warden— you were a Warden. You’ve forsaken your vows, the very blessings we gods gave you!”
He raised his trident high, the temple trembling under his fury.
“And for that betrayal, Stark of the Fallen Light, I shall take back what divinity remains in you!”
The waters surged upward, forming massive serpent-like streams around Sobek as Stark lowered into stance—his sword gleaming gold and crimson, his eyes burning with quiet resolve.