Super God Academy: Kabuto

The frequency of the spiritual resonance subtly changed without Lan's awareness.

The change was extremely subtle. Like a wisp of ocean current slightly shifting in an unnoticed moment, it was not enough to arouse any alarm, yet it was enough to propel a ship to a completely different destination during a long voyage. Deep within Lan's consciousness, those neural synapses filled with doubt, unease, and vague questioning of the clan leader's decision were being gently enveloped, smoothed, and reshaped by layer upon layer of deep blue mental ripples.

It's not about erasing. It's about dulling. It's about smoothing out sharp doubts, blurring acute anxieties, and letting those once crystal-clear thoughts gradually sink into the depths of consciousness, like pebbles sinking into the deep sea, never to stir up any more ripples.

Lan walked down the dark blue corridor, his steps still elegant, his demeanor still composed. His compound eyes reflected the ceaseless pulsating light on the wall, and deep within his dark blue pupils, something was slowly and irreversibly changing.

He stopped and glanced back at the path he had come from. At the end of the corridor, the biomembrane in the conference room had closed again, completely blocking Lan Xing's view. The membrane was still pulsating slightly, releasing a faint spiritual resonance, like the heartbeat of some enormous creature.

Lan stood there, silent for a long time. He felt as if he had forgotten something. Something important, something that should have been remembered, was slowly dissolving deep within his consciousness, like a painting being soaked in water, the colors gradually blurring and fading, eventually turning into chaos. He tried to grasp the remaining fragments, but they were too fragmented, too distant, like sand slipping through his fingers; the harder he tried, the faster they slipped away.

"That's enough." He murmured to himself, his voice carrying a trace of inexplicable weariness that even he himself couldn't understand.

He turned around and continued walking forward. His steps remained elegant, his demeanor composed. But the last glimmer of struggle in his dark blue compound eyes had been completely extinguished.

Deep in the corridor, an invisible entity silently observed everything. It was Lan Xing's "shadow," formless and faceless, merely a constantly flowing mass of darkness. It watched Lan's departing figure, and in its nonexistent eyes, a faint, almost pity-like emotion seemed to flicker. But only for a moment; the next second, its figure vanished into the corridor's shadows, as if it had never existed.

Deep within the planet Shuilan, Lanxing slowly travels along a spiraling downward passage.

This passage has existed for countless millennia. The walls are covered with a thick layer of translucent, amber-like biomass, within which countless tiny luminous bodies are sealed, like fireflies frozen in time, emitting a faint, flickering, eerie blue light. Each luminous body represents a triangular consciousness that once sacrificed itself here—a gift left behind by the Void Sea Clan, and also a shackle.

The deeper he went, the thicker the air became. It wasn't viscosity in a physical sense, but rather a mental pressure, like diving into the deep sea, where the pressure increased with each layer until even breathing became a burden. Lan Xing's three pairs of compound eyes slowly rotated, adapting to this ancient pressure etched deep into his genes. He could sense that something awaited him at the end of the passage—or rather, something that had always been waiting for him.

Their steps stopped before the last stone gate.

The stone door wasn't carved by hand, but rather formed naturally from some kind of living tissue. Its surface was covered with dense, grayish-white runes, their lines twisted and intricate, as if written in some long-lost language, revealing forbidden knowledge about the birth and destruction of the universe. Between the runes, extremely fine, vein-like lines pulsed slowly, each pulse releasing a faint spiritual resonance—the frequency of which perfectly matched a sealed fragment of memory deep within Lan Xing's mind.

Lan Xing didn't push the door open immediately. He just stood there, his three pairs of compound eyes staring at the runes, as if he were deciphering something, or as if he was just waiting.

He didn't have to wait long.

A thought emanated from the depths of the stone gate. There was no sound, no words, only a pure concept, surging into his consciousness like a cold tide.

Follow the information they give you.

The thought was cold and authoritative, devoid of any emotion, yet it made Lan Xing's body tremble slightly. Not from fear, but from an instinctive submission to a higher being, a feeling deep within his genes. Even though he had become the patriarch of the Triangular Species, even though he had survived alone in this universe for tens of thousands of years, before this thought, he was still just a tiny being, someone who could be crushed at any moment.

Lanxing lowered her head. Her three pairs of compound eyes stopped rotating, and all six eyes closed at the same time, as if paying homage to some indescribable deity.

"Yes."

His voice was very soft, almost drowned out by the incessant low-frequency hum in the passageway. But the thought had clearly received a response, because the oppressive feeling slowly subsided, like the receding tide, gradually withdrawing from his consciousness.

Lan Xing didn't linger. He turned and walked up the path he had come from. His steps remained steady, and his three pairs of compound eyes began to rotate again, restoring the dignity and composure befitting a clan leader. But only he knew that, in the face of that will, he had never truly raised his head.

The footsteps gradually faded away and disappeared at the end of the passage.

After the stone gate, a long silence fell.

Then, a faint voice sounded.

The voice was completely different from the thought just now. It was neither indifferent nor dignified, and even carried a hint of laughter—an aged and weary laughter that had endured endless years and seen through countless cycles of reincarnation.

"Kunxu..."

The voice slowly uttered the name, each syllable seeming to linger on the tip of the tongue for too long, carrying a complex meaning of a long-awaited reunion.

"I wonder if you'll be surprised when we meet again?"

There was no response. Beyond the stone gate remained an eternal silence, with only the grayish-white runes pulsating slowly, like some ancient, tireless heart.

But the owner of that voice didn't seem to need a response. It was simply talking to itself, passing the time with memories in the long, endless seal.

"When you sealed me here back then, you probably never imagined this day would come..." The voice chuckled softly, the laughter devoid of resentment, only a detached indifference that seemed to see through everything. "The pawn you chose has finally arrived here. Following the script you gave me, step by step... You won, Kunxu. Just like you always win."

The laughter gradually faded, turning into a faint sigh.

"But... this time, did you really win?"

No one answered. Beyond the stone gate, eternal silence once more descended.

Outside the Shenhe Ruins, at the Allied Forces' position, 30,000 kilometers away from the slowly expanding rift, an unprecedented fleet is gathering.

The Angel's Skyblade-class warships, like silver whales, hovered at the forefront of the formation. Divine codes flowed across their hulls—a defensive barrier personally blessed by Keisha, powerful enough to withstand the erosion of void energy. The twelve Skyblade warships formed a wedge formation, their bows pointing towards the crack, like twelve silver spears poised to strike.

The Skyblade VII, located at the core of the array, served as both the flagship and the command center. Keisha stood before the observation window on the bridge, her silver eyes fixed on the dark crack in the distance. Her fingertips slid across the projection screen in front of her, constantly adjusting the fleet's formation and energy distribution.

The demon fleet was scattered on the flanks and rear of the angelic array. Their warships lacked the solemn order of the Heavenly Blades, instead possessing a chaotic and deadly beauty—dark purple hulls painted with ferocious demonic totems, the charging beams of energy cannons flickering across the surface like the blinking of beasts lurking in the darkness. Liang Bing sat on the command platform of the flagship, Demon One, legs crossed, seemingly nonchalant, but something sharp gleamed deep within her purple eyes.

The Sun's fleet was the smallest, yet the most conspicuous. Three golden "Sun Chasers" hovered on the right flank of the formation, their surfaces shimmering with a blazing light like the core of a star, illuminating the surrounding void. Lena stood at the bow of the flagship, her golden-red battle robes fluttering in the light, surrounded by tiny star flames—the overflowing power of the Sun Goddess surging within her.

Earth's fleet was the most unassuming. Several modified Giant Gorge-class warships hovered at the rear of the formation. Their firepower was inferior to that of the Angels, their speed to that of the Demons, and their defense to that of the Blazing Sun, but each ship carried warriors of the Super Soldier Squad—new generation guardians who possessed the genes of the Divine River and had grown up in war. Ge Xiaolun stood on the flagship's bridge, wielding the power of the Milky Way, his gaze resolute. Liu Chuang stood beside him, the blade of the God-Slaying Axe gleaming coldly under the lamplight.

Emerald Galaxy - Rift, Tsukasa Kadoya has been waiting here for far too long.

He sat with his legs crossed, suspended in mid-air, unsupported yet as steady as if he were sitting on his own sofa. His magenta suit gleamed faintly in the starlight, and he casually swung his camera, the lens aimed at a distant, slowly expanding crack, and idly pressed the shutter.

Click. Click. Click.

The sound of a shutter cannot travel in a vacuum, but Tsukasa Kadoya doesn't seem to care. He just repeats the action, as if waiting for a movie that's been overdue to start.

"This is so slow..."

He muttered under his breath, a hint of impatience mixed with anticipation in his voice. His eyes, peering through the camera viewfinder, stared into the depths of the crack, into a void darker than darkness itself. He could feel something writhing, expanding, awakening there. This wasn't the first time he'd encountered such a presence. In countless worlds, across countless timelines, he had witnessed far too many similar "arrivals."

But he continued to wait. Because this time, he wasn't alone.

Click.

The last shutter clicked.

Tsukasa Kadoya put down his camera, a slow smile playing on his lips. That smile was different from his usual one—it lacked mockery and languor, carrying only a calm, expectant quality born of experience.

"It's been a long time since I've been serious."

His voice was soft, yet it echoed clearly in the void.

As soon as he finished speaking, a crimson aurora curtain suddenly unfolded behind him! The curtain was like a torn canvas, its edges burning with crimson flames, its interior filled with endless, swirling chaos. It was no ordinary dimensional barrier, but a passage connecting countless world lines, countless possibilities, and countless "selves".

A figure emerged from behind the curtain.

Crimson armor, sharply defined features, and a cold, golden light gleaming in his compound eyes. That was Kamen Rider Decade—his basic form. But unlike Tsukasa Kadoya's usual transformations, this figure was more solid, more profound, as if the armor wasn't encasing the person, but rather the person himself was an extension of the armor. He didn't linger, walking straight towards Tsukasa Kadoya, transforming into a crimson streak of light and merging into his body.

Tsukasa Kadoya clenched his fist, feeling that familiar power surge through his veins.

Another figure emerged. This time it was Decade in his Passionate Form, his armor even thicker and his aura even more ferocious. He too transformed into a stream of light and merged into Tsukasa Kadoya's body.

The third one. The fourth one. The fifth one...

Different forms, different world lines, different "Tsukasa Kadoya". Some are warriors who have experienced countless wars, some are travelers burdened with heavy fates, and some are bystanders who have reached the end of time. They emerge from the aurora curtain, one after another, like birds returning to their nests, like rivers flowing into the sea, merging into Tsukasa Kadoya's body.

With each figure joining, Tsukasa Kadoya's aura rose a notch. It wasn't a simple accumulation of power, but a convergence of experience. It was the wars experienced, the laws comprehended, and the prices paid by countless "selves" across countless timelines, all converging into one in this moment.

The last figure emerged from the aurora curtain.

That was Hyper Kabuto—no, it was more than just Hyper Kabuto. The figure's armor was a deep, dark gold, and his compound eyes shone with a light that transcended time. Visible ripples of time surrounded him, as if he himself were the embodiment of the laws of time. He didn't walk towards Tsukasa Kadoya, but instead met his gaze. The two "selves" were separated by a half-step.

"Sorry to keep you waiting." The figure spoke, his voice exactly the same as Tsukasa Kadoya's, but with an added weight of countless years.

"I'm used to it." Tsukasa Kadoya shrugged, his smile deepening. "Anyway, I'm always the one waiting for me."

The figure smiled as well. Then, he took a step forward and merged into Tsukasa Kadoya's body.

boom--!

An invisible wave of energy spread outwards from Tsukasa Kadoya! That wave of energy was not energy, nor a shockwave, but something more essential and ancient—it was "existence" itself expanding, a traveler who had traversed countless worlds and witnessed countless births and deaths, at this moment, gathering all the scattered "selves" back into one.

Tsukasa Kadoya slowly clenched his fist, then relaxed it. In his eyes, the light and shadow of countless world lines flowed, and the memories of countless "selves" surged. He saw the moments of his victory in those world lines, and he also saw the moments of his defeat; he saw the civilizations he saved, and he also saw the civilizations he could not save; he saw his smiling, waving goodbye figure, and he also saw his silent figure standing alone in the ruins.

Then, all the light and shadow settled down.

His eyes regained their calm, still holding that languid and playful look. But only those who truly knew him could sense that something had changed beneath that calm.

"A long-lost power," Tsukasa Kadoya murmured, stretching his neck. "A long-lost feeling. A long-lost...self."

He raised his hand, looking at the faint, magenta light in his palm. The light pulsed, like a heart, like breath, like some ancient will that had been sealed away for too long finally awakening.

He turned and looked in the direction of the Shenhe Ruins.

There, the rift continues to widen. There, the main forces of the Void Races are gathering. There, a war that will determine the fate of the known universe is about to begin.

And there, he also had his friends, his comrades, and a universe he had promised to "look after for the time being."

Tsukasa Kadoya smiled. There was no tension or fear in that smile, only a pure, almost childlike expectation.