Chapter 504: 504. No crumbs Left
"You... what kind of soul is this?!" For the first time ever, 500’s voice cracked. His distorted tone wavered as his threads trembled in the air. "How can you split yourself into so many fragments and not get erased?"
Before him stood a legion — over a hundred Tylers, all in their female form, each gripping an Abyssal Trident that gleamed with abyssal light. They did not waver, did not break. Their unified gazes bore into him like a tide of mirrors.
Mana’s voice resonated inside the copper pot where the original Tyler sat cross-legged, her tone half-teasing, half-serious. "I thought that copper pot couldn’t copy souls."
"In reality, it can’t," Tyler replied, his voice calm despite the chaos shaking the mental world around him. "But this is my consciousness. Here, everything is shaped by my will. When I conjured the pot inside my own sea of consciousness, I tried... and it worked. These aren’t true soul fragments — they’re materialized reflections, extensions of myself. They’ll dissipate when the copper pot vanishes. At best, I can maintain them for five minutes."
Mana chuckled, her laughter echoing like windchimes in the storm. "Then he still thinks you’ve split your soul. Perfect. Let him panic. The more he fears, the sloppier he becomes."
Tyler’s expression softened. "I’m glad I blocked most of my memories before. He doesn’t know much about me — only fragments of my attacks, domains, a few techniques. He’s fighting in the dark."
"So, any bright ideas?" Mana pressed.
Tyler hesitated, his feminine form shimmering faintly under the glow of his divinity. "I do have one... but I’m not sure if it will work."
"Tell me."
He leaned closer, whispering the plan across their shared consciousness. Mana blinked, then widened her eyes. "That’s reckless. If you conjure that, you’ll drain yourself dry. Five minutes will collapse to two at most. Maybe less."
Tyler’s lips curved into a grim smile. "Two minutes is enough."
"...Do it."
At his command, golden light flared across his form. A radiant suit of armor manifested, encasing his female body in intricate plates that shone like the sun. The Celestial Armor of Apollo — a treasure Tyler had copied from the Abyss long ago. Its brilliance spread outward.
One by one, every Tyler climbing out of the copper pot was clad in the same divine armor, their tridents glowing brighter, their steps thundering like the march of celestial soldiers. The cavernous cityscape of Tyler’s consciousness shook beneath their weight.
500’s threads twitched violently. Something wasn’t right. He lunged forward, panic edging his movements. His threads shot through the air like a thousand vipers, piercing the armored Tylers one by one, seizing control of their limbs. Each puppet was forced to self-destruct in bursts of fractured light.
But it wasn’t the same as before. The more he destroyed, the slower the process became. Each one resisted longer, their armor hardening, their wills refusing to bend. His once-effortless slaughter became a battle of attrition.
"No..." 500 muttered, his distorted face cracking with frustration. "No, I have to do something. If this continues—"
---
Outside the mental battlefield.
Zuzia roared as her lava geyser erupted, hurling 500’s possessed body into the air. Rain poured harder, sizzling into steam as it met molten stone.
500 staggered to his feet, his charred skin knitting together. His draconic scales retracted into his flesh, leaving his humanoid form leaner, sharper, and more dangerous. "I need to change tactics..."
He glanced at his wrist — a sleek metallic band, faintly glowing with runes. A communication device, but also something more: a portable waypoint unit, a terminal capable of tearing open spatial portals. His eyes gleamed.
He stepped out of the Pocket Dimension and returned to the cave. Zuzia, shifting back into her humanoid form, followed close behind.
With a flick of his fingers, the device activated. Space warped. A vortex tore open, sucking in air, loose stones, and even some nearby crates. The cave shook as its atmosphere howled into the swirling portal.
Myrtle and Lanny gasped as Tyler’s body — no, 500 in control — emerged again, his movements sharper than before.
"Tyler!" Lanny called.
"Don’t!" Zuzia barked. Her humanoid form blurred as she dashed forward, wings flaring.
But 500 was faster. He pivoted, delivering a brutal kick that sent Lanny hurtling toward the portal’s pull. Myrtle lunged to grab her, but 500’s threads lashed out, slamming into her back. Both were dragged into the vortex with terrified cries.
"No!" Zuzia’s fury exploded. She roared, her aura igniting as molten cracks seared across her skin. She dived headlong after them, determined to save the girls.
Seeing them swallowed into the portal, 500 laughed. His plan was simple — isolate Tyler’s allies, then crush him in Sea of Consciousness. With no distractions, victory was inevitable.
But before he could close the rift, the wall behind him erupted. Lava surged sidewards in a violent fountain, flames and molten rock swallowing the cavern.
Zuzia had turned mid-flight. Her Domain pulsed outward, reshaping the battlefield. The geyser she’d conjured didn’t just push him — it hurled him forward, driving him straight toward the portal.
"Wha—?!" 500 barely had time to react before Zuzia appeared above him.
Her forehead slammed into his skull with a thunderous crack. "Bam!"
The force rattled both worlds — inside and outside the consciousness. 500’s eyes widened, glowing bright blue for a final second before dulling, the stolen body trembling under the impact.
"No... no! It shouldn’t end like this!" His distorted voice screamed, echoing in every layer of the cave.
---
Inside Tyler’s consciousness, chaos reigned.
Every version of Tyler leapt toward 500 like a horde of ravenous undead, their golden armor glinting against the white glow of the mindscape. The scene resembled a zombie apocalypse, except each attacker carried the same trident, the same determination, and the same cold fury in their eyes.
500 snarled, threads bursting outward like steel wires to bind and control them. But the swarm was overwhelming. Even as he seized a few, others slipped free, lunging, clawing, and dragging him down.
The scythe manifested in his grasp, slicing arcs through the false Tylers. Each stroke should have carved clean through, but instead, the Celestial Armor they wore shimmered and absorbed the blows. The scythe left only faint scratches.
500’s distorted face twisted. "Impossible...!"
The swarm closed in. Dozens of Tylers slammed into him at once, their armored bodies stacking like a wall of steel and flesh. He fought, but his movements grew sluggish, drowned under sheer numbers. In moments, his form was completely buried, swallowed by the endless copies.
Inside the copper pot, the true Tyler sat cross-legged, his face pale, forehead glowing faintly. He placed his palm against the inner wall of the pot and whispered:
"Detonate."
Every Tyler in the swarm froze. Their tridents began to glow, the runes upon their armor flaring with unbearable light.
500’s muffled shout tore out from beneath the pile. "No...? What are you doing? If you detonate this many soul fragments, it will shred your entire sea of consciousness! Do you understand? Centuries of recovery—gone!"
Tyler’s voice echoed calm, though laced with exhaustion. "Better centuries in silence... than eternity as your puppet."
The swarm ignited.
One after another, each Tyler exploded, not with fire or sound, but with waves of raw soul-force. Silent flashes rippled outward like collapsing stars, devouring the mindscape itself. The towering buildings of Tyler’s conjured city shattered, dissolving into blinding fragments. The streets melted into white void. The moons above cracked, their shards scattering like glass before vanishing into nothingness.
500 screamed, the swarm tearing his distorted body apart, until even his voice was consumed in silence.
And then—there was nothing.
The entire consciousness blurred, colors fading, shapes unraveling. All that remained was a boundless expanse of white. Floating in its emptiness, the copper pot cracked, splitting open to reveal Tyler’s faint form within.
"Tyler..." Mana’s soft voice resonated through the void. Her ghostly figure was fading, dissolving into translucent wisps of light. "I can’t hold on. I’ll have to sleep. I’ll only wake when you... finally wake again."
Her soul vanished, sinking into dormancy.
Tyler’s lips moved, but no sound came out. His vision darkened, his thoughts fragmented. He reached for something, anything, but all sensation slipped away.
As the last fragments of his city fell apart, Tyler too surrendered to the endless white, sinking into unconsciousness.
---
Zuzia, clutching Lanny and Myrtle, stared at Tyler’s body in shock—something was pushing against his chest, trying to emerge.
Her brow furrowed in confusion, but before she could react, the group was swallowed deeper into the swirling portal. .
The void around them stretched endlessly, a tunnel of nothingness pressing in on all sides.
Suddenly, a smaller rift cracked open, pulling them forward with irresistible force. They tumbled through and landed on the other side.
They landed on a blanket of snow, the cold biting through their clothes. A herd of giant reindeer stood nearby, their antlers glistening with frost, watching the newcomers with wary curiosity.
Zuzia quickly scanned her surroundings, relief flooding her as she spotted Myrtle and Lanny beside her. But then her heart sank —Tyler was missing.