Lekan harrumphed, his eyes flicking open as a gust of bloodthirsty aura exploded into the air.
The air wheezed against his charred black skin, the burned flaps of his clothing wrestling uselessly against the flow of wind.
He grimaced, grounding his blood soaked dentition, watching carefully at the towering imagery of the lady in flowing red gowns as she cackled. Her laughter irritated him.
And even more, it irritated the demon within him. He could not stomach the fact that one person would think that she could be God above others. Not that it mattered to him but the internal grudge eating him from inside, originating from the being within, could not be ignored. As a result, he could not ignore it too.
He had become one with his system. His eyes bloodthirsty as he surveyed the losers who lay on the ground around, knocked out and in a terrible state.
To think that these were the same people who had called themselves his superiors and tried to show him his place in the years past was laughable. He wanted to kill them all and kill them again, the violence in his heart surging to unimaginable heights.
His arms shivered with might, his whole body bulging here and there with ethereal excitement. Blood splattered everywhere even as the forms of the Bureau people lay, some of them ripped through with poles while some of them only living as halves of their former halves. Their other lower halves had been ripped to bits by the lady in the gown, the fallen limbs indistinguishable from one another as they were scattered all about.
"Pathetic.!" Lekan gritted, his heart swelling with rage.
"Useless..." He spat out, his feet stepping into the poodle of blood that was everywhere.
The wind howled now, bits of flesh and dirt rising up in a storm all about, reducing his visibility significantly. However, it was not like he needed his visibility in the first place. What would he want to see in the city which had been burnt to ruble and destroyed all about?
In fact, if he had to make a guess, he was sure that he and the surviving pitiable forms of the dismembered Bureau members were the only ones who were available as humans here. In the far distance, he could make out the silhouettes of rubbles of destroyed buildings, wrecked armored tanks and exploded choppers. All of Man's strengths pulled out to play but all defeated by one single person.
"Morgana."
The name left a sour taste within him. He could feel the churning rage inside of his heart. His demon was not happy to hear the name too and it was reacting violently to it. From the way it reacted, it seemed like the demon had had a taste of Morgana too. But he was not sure.
He shut his eyes to clamp down on the chittering of the agitated demon, allowing himself feel about him to get the calm he wanted. Bending down, he reached his hands to the blood stream all about and immediately, quiet was restored to his inner being. The demon was pacified
After all, he had touched its favorite thing.
Blood.
Lekan gasped, feeling the flow of energy surging through his blood immediately. Numerous attributes roared like that of a rushing wave at sea, all of which was made possible by the mixture of bloods all about. He groaned now, squatting as his muscles suddenly thickened in a heart beat, accompanied by a surge of energy that ricocheted through the air.
KA-BOOOOOM!
The shockwave sailed through, wiping off the dust and the darkened atmosphere to reveal the wrecked forms of the environment for what it really was.
His eyes suddenly enlarged, intense pain tearing through his body as black ink swiftly coated him from the feet upwards, Lal the way to the waist.
'Morreee...' The ethereal presence within him groaned.
Lekan could only agree as he was in sync, his lips parting in a feral growl, revealing the blood red canines. Veins shooting out and bulging distinctly over his neck and temples.
"Moreeeeee .." He roared out. Hos forehead cracked, two uneven zigzagged lines ripping through the front of it. Instantly, the foreskin tore off, shot out by a sudden projection of two black tips.
Two horns erupting from the side of his head.
The horns curved in the shape of a U, rapidly gaining size and weight until it was twice the size of his head, drool running down from his mouth.
' MORGANAAAA....'
"MORGANAAAA...." Lekan roared out too, his body no longer answering to him.
The lady in the gown turned now, stopping her laughter for a brief second as she looked down at Lekan.
She had lovely set of eyes with flowing black silky hairs. Pointed V jaws alongside with thin lips and a very pointed nose.
Just as she looked at Lekan's way, her eyes widened.
BOOOOOOOOOOOM!
A shockwave rapped out as Lekan suddenly blasted out, force winds sprouting under his feet.
His head was held up, revealing his feral, bloodthirsty grin. His elongated fingernails held to the side of him as his hands were thrown to the back while his lower half worked double time to generate the speed for him.
His feet slapped hard into the ground to find that solidity, splattering blood all about.
"Ah..." Someone growled as blood splattered to his face, his body twisted in such a way as if he had being mangled and squeezed to broken bones and a paste of flesh. "T-that... is-isnt that My speed attribute... The sonic propulsion speed..."
"Aaayyyyy..." Morgana yelled as she swung her hands into the air towards the racing for of Lekan.
Her hands blurred through immediately, tearing out rapidly till afterimages flickered everywhere for as long as several meters.
As she did, the pupils of the squeezed, battered but observing form dilated, shifting here and there till it blurred about in the white of his eyes. The person was trying to track the movements.
To him, being that his attribute was speed, he could see everything happening in speed time. He saw just as the hands of Morgana ripped through the air like hurtling javelins into the body of the racing, demon-like form.
However as each of Morgan's hands got to the person, the body would reverberate through the air, appearing some meters to the side. Morgana would adjust her hands for that direction only for the demon form to shift positions, all the whole speeding up to her.
"Astella's teleportation Skill... How is it... How can he have the same exact skill as her?" The figure frowned, his brown eyes squeezed in disbelief.
He had black wavy hair that was about a finger length long. Although stained with blood. He had a long collars of black to his neck but going downwards to his limbless body, the coat had been obliterated, leaving his mangled body bare and bloody.
Azan frowned.
In the history of the System Bureau, no two system could have the each same power. Even if the powers did the same function, they was always a slight functional difference in the application of it. No matter what, no two systems could present the same result.
Then, how come this person had not only the same attribute as him.
Not only that but also Astella's...
He gasped just then as he saw the form of the demon figure suddenly splitting out into numerous clones and right before them, portals surged out into existence.
"Ah.. Even Beatrice's Space Clone attribute... How come?" The one with the brown eyes puzzled.
It took only a split second for portals to open just in the air, directly around Morgana. Luckily for him, his speed attribute still allowed him to see it in speed time. And there and then, the clones leapt out..
Morgana's response was immediate. She screeched and rolled her hands around her, the limbs if her tearing through the clones into nothingness.
However, it presented the opportunity for the real demon to get up close to her.
But the demon having gotten close stopped and smiled. In his hands, he threw up a dice the size of his head, watching as Morgana remained frozen in space.
"No, Sir David's Gaming Attribute. That move, all other players are frozen until he make the roll... wait... Is he copying their attributes?? But How? Is that the attribute of his system?"
"One!" the Dice that was the size of the head of the demon suddenly shrank as the demon stretched a hand into the air and caught it.
There was a pitiful look in the eyes of the demon as he looked down at the dice.
"You're lucky. And this is a stupid skill."
Just then, a blast of energy exploded, shutting out the consciousness from the eyes of the only observer.
But even as the consciousness faded off, the observer knew one thing. And that was Morgana was defeated. And this time, that was sure and true.
The sacrifices and deaths of the System Bureau had not being in vain, after all. In the end, a System Holder who could actually lay a hit on Morgana came and that was all hey needed to win.
And so, relieved, he let himself be welcomed into the death. Into the oblivion that was calling to him. But even at that, one question lay probing at the back of his blacked out mind, unanswered.
Just who was this strange system holder? And why did he look so... demonic?
-------------------------
(Author's Note: If you are reading this, I have completed Ascenders Book 2 already. Make sure to take a peak there. This is a book I had in the works for some time. Im glad to put it up for reads. Lets take this journey together. I guarantee you, you wont be wrong to stay. )
A lady, plump with a pink gown and a black waist belt phased into existence. She had her hands gloved, her gown was only but sleeveless and she had a wide brimmed hat to cover her head.She had a robust face, a little smile playing at her lips which vanished the moment she set eyes on the environment about. She squeezed her nose in disgust, reacting to the pungent smell of blood and dismembered flesh that was all about. Bile rose in her throat, making her just seem to puke except that she quickly put her hand to cover her mouth.She remained still, her pink shoes, getting sodden and wet with the blood on the ground."Disgusting. This is how far Morgana has gone." She sneered.Looking forward, she coughed, covering her mouth still as she watched the pieces of the gown that Morgana had on floating about in the air. Morgana was nowhere to be found.And right where she was supposed to be, a demon like figure stood. Or rather, dropped to his knees, his
"That does not make sense. If a demon could lay a hit on morgana, should we not be scared of the demon itself?" The air shimmered and a man wearing black shirt and trousers alongside a black pair of shoes muttered, his hand cupping the edge of his jaws."Why should we trust the fate of the world into the hands of a demon? I say, we kill him while we can!" He grimaced, holding up his right hand, clenched into the air.Monsieur Demas swallowed now, sniffling as he watched the energy the young mister poured into his words. It reminded him of the days of his youth while he was still young and bubbling Not now when he had to be saddled with the responsibilities of the many under the name of the System Bureau.Not that he regretted his position but then, he missed being as energetic as he used to be. Now, he was more of a figure head, although his power had not diminished but was more of a supportive power rathe than an active one. After all, the System Bureau would n
"Now, we know what is applicable." The other female sounded off now. "We have Morgana still out there and only the heavens know whenever she would strike again. Would it not be better to have...""To have the one person who destroyed her earlier to be with us, ready for another counter against her the moments she sets out again?" The one with the googles said now."What are you saying? Keeping a demon around is worse than having Morgana!" Dayo yelled out, frowning deeper."That is true." Beatrice agreed, looking up now to the face of Demas."But it is logical. Demon or not, he is the only one who could land a hit on Morgana. Should that not be the positive point we should all be considering?" The female sounded off, teh one who looked African by origin."If it so disturbs you all, then I have a proposal. But only you can grant it, Monsieur Demas." The one with the googles said, standing to his feet.Once he stood still, he stretched his hand
The black SUV hummed across the length of the black tarred road as towering buildings swept past its side of the road. It was a cold day, one of those days when the mister who was driving the car did not wish to be out here. The heater in the car was working fine, but it seemed as though it was working all too fine. The driver and husband could not blame it though, he was in the car with his wife who was by his side and his son in the car, it was bound to be like this. His wife had been getting on his nerves, telling him how much he had not been paying attention to the wellbeing of his son, even though he knew that the did just everything possible for the whole family. Or would they have preferred he did nothing and just had to be stopping by for everything family related while his business suffered on the side? It was preposterous. Did his wife forget what that without money, one could not run a home? In fact, without money there was no possibility of love. Who was the person that
The atmosphere is cool, a little too cool to warm the numb feeling that engulfed Lekan to the max. He sat in the chair, his feet almost touching the ground. The series of events that occurred of late had not left him for the better and he had not known how to cope with it.It was a miracle he was still alive, that he had been told. The car had gone up in flames the moment it went airborne but yet he was still here. of course, he had not gone all scot free from the accident. He had gotten some burns, minor but that was it.After he had gotten treatment, the news had been broken down to him.His parents had not survived the incident. In fact when thy had been rescued, the parents had all been burnt beyond recognition. Strange enough, Lekan did not know how to feel about it. Maybe because he felt like all of these had happened before or maybe it was because of the fact that his parents had been the one arguing in the car right before the accident, all because
Three people are in the spacious white room, two of which are seated while one remains standing , holding a wine bottle with a furious look on his face.Despite the spaciousness of the room, it feels a little too crowded for the occupants in it as one can almost cut through the tension thick air with a knife and do it rather easily.The room is white in color, having a large screen plasma TV hanging from its hold on the wall which is just adjacent to all of them in the room. There is a black steel TV stand but instead of having a Tv on it, it has an extension box, a DVD player on the second layer of it and two speakers of a home theatre by the side of it. There are a few connections to the extension, all of which makes a little tangle of wires, some of which run to the Tv and some to the other gadgets that re all about, including a phone, a bluetooth wireless earphone pod and a headset while a black power bank is attached to a power cord and is placed on the grou
The words of Mr Awopegba did not make sense. It did not matter how he looked at it, there was no justification for that. Why would his father, after making sure he had no direct touch with the inheritances because of a certain guardian and some legal age clause, now leave for him a piece of ring? Some ring that he could fucking buy himself? And on top of that, the ring was not even pretty. It was not exactly the type he could take out and say, hey, my dad willed this over to him. It was pretty much thrash, just like something you picked on the wayside because it happened to catch your fancy. But not really because you need to. You just pick it up and then throw it away once you're done examining it. That was just how the ring struck him. "You are serious?" Lekan asked the lawyer, holding the box in his left hand while holding out the ring to the air. "This is what my father gave to me? This is not some kind of joke, is it?" He asked, looking from Uncle Desmond to Mr Awopegba who
KNOCK... KNOCK... Series of raps resonated on the brown wooden door which was painted cream in color. The raps sounded hurriedly with each passing second. Much to the anger of the one who squeezed himself just against the door. It was Lekan and this was his room. But right now, he was not by himself. He had the ring which the Lawyer had claimed his father had willed to him seated on top of the envelope, just by his right hand side. He wore a wine sleeveless top, blue and purple spotted socks while having black combat shorts on his lower half. Lekan looked disheveled. Tear lines pasted over his face, revealing how much he’d been crying of late. And also revealing that he was not one to care about his hygiene. He barely had a bath ever since the time the lawyer had come down here. And today, like all the days which elapsed since then, his Uncle was at the door, knocking. Today, the knocks had come in a bit different. Rushed, with the brooding sensation that it was not the normal th