Chapter 80: The Leviathan’s Maw

The Astral Plane existed beyond the boundary of mortal comprehension. It was a realm without sky or ocean, defined only by infinite, swirling nebulae, cosmic dust, and ribbons of auroral light that bled across the vacuum. Countless unfathomable entities drifted through its quiet expanse, existing in an ethereal ecosystem untouched by time.

Without warning, the fabric of the void shuddered.

A massive tear ripped through space, and an entire landmass—the missing phantom island from the Eternal Breach—materialized out of thin air. It drifted weightlessly across the colorful cosmic currents, still burning with residual light-fire. Dozens of light-winged aberrant beasts and the silk-winged creature remained frozen on its surface, thrashing in confusion as their physical forms reacted to the raw, unrefined energy of the Astral Plane.

Then, something shifted in the open space beside the island.

A tiny entity floated into view. It was no larger than a household pet, resembling a plush teddy bear fashioned entirely out of shifting, ink-black shadows. Twin jagged horns curved upward from its head, absorbing the starlight around them. The creature hovered quietly, tilting its head as its hollow eyes fixed upon the drifting island and the screaming abominations trapped upon it.

Slowly, the little creature opened its small, shadowy mouth.

The surrounding stars began to distort. Cosmic dust and nebula clouds bent violently toward the creature like water rushing down a drain. Its tiny form expanded exponentially—shadows stretched, bone-like armor erupted from its hide, and thousands of luminous red eyes tore open along its lengthening spine.

Within seconds, the small shadow had grown into a horrific, cosmic leviathan. Its mouth split open into an abyss wide enough to swallow moons, lined with rows of crystalline teeth woven from collapsed space.

NOM.

Without a sound, the leviathan snapped its jaws shut around the phantom island. The entire landmass, along with every single aberrant beast and silk-winged creature upon it, was crushed into dust inside the leviathan’s maw.

Swallowing the mass whole, the colossal monstrosity coiled its massive body and plunged downward, disappearing into a swirling black vortex that collapsed behind it, leaving the Astral Plane as silent and pristine as it had been before.

Back within the abyssal ocean, inside the expanding dome array, reality remained a nightmare.

Where three phantom landmasses had once floated, only two now remained. The sudden disappearance of the third island had startled the surviving contractors, but there was no time to process the anomaly. The battle was turning into an absolute slaughterhouse.

Aberrant beasts—their light-fire wings roaring and molten veins pulsing—swarmed the remaining landmasses. Contractor tethers were breaking under the Titan’s distant, heavy gaze, causing more and more Awakened to burst into white-hot flames and transform into feral husks.

High-tier Resonants fought valiantly, unleashing gales of elemental blades, heavy kinetic impacts, and defensive barriers, but they were vastly outnumbered. It was a losing war of attrition. Every fallen ally meant another enemy rising from the ashes.

Protected behind the impenetrable barrier of the inner temple array, Steven watched the carnage with an unmasked, triumphant grin.

He pushed his glasses up the bridge of his nose, his dark eyes reflecting the chaotic bursts of light-fire across the dark water. He glanced briefly toward the empty space where the third island had vanished, giving a dismissive shrug.

"Well, it doesn’t matter," Steven murmured, his voice smooth and dripping with cold satisfaction. "Whether you die by the blade, fall into the void, or turn into husks... in the end, you will all surrender your souls to the sun."

To him, every casualty was simply raw material. The sacrifice was completing the ritual grid, charging the temple’s core for the next phase of his master plan.

However, on the second remaining island, a shift occurred.

Another leader-class aberrant beast—this one also wielding wings of dense, crimson silk rather than raw light-fire—suddenly froze mid-slaughter. Its single glowing eye twitched violently as a strange, unearthly tremor rippled through its silk tendrils.

It felt a presence. Not from the Titan above, nor from the frantic humans below, but from somewhere deep within the spatial boundary itself.

The silk-winged creature let out a low, unsettling hiss. Its crimson silk unravelled instantly, shooting upward like a cluster of overgrown, blood-red vines. The strands pierced through the dome’s atmosphere, driving toward the highest point of the submerged sky to intercept the incoming anomaly.

High above the remaining islands, gravity reasserted itself.

The surviving element-caster from Lucas’s squad was hurtling through the air, falling at terminal velocity toward the lower floor of the dome array. Wind roared in his ears, tearing at his torn uniform as tears tracked across his face.

He kept his eyes locked on the space above—on the empty spot where his Vice Captain had just sacrificed everything.

Lucas was gone. The island was gone. And as the lower dome’s terrain rushed up to meet him, the element-caster grit his teeth, desperately channeling the last scraps of his Astral energy into a downward water-cushion to survive the impact.

Below him, the ocean of light-fire, swarming beasts, and bloody tendrils waited to consume whatever was left of the living.

The three islands had been arranged like giant, staggered steps rising through the dark waters. The highest tier was the main Temple Island, where the aberrant beasts were systematically breaking the surviving contractors, while Steven stood comfortably sheltered behind his inner dome array, taking in the show. The middle island—where Lucas had made his final stand—was completely gone.

That left the lowest, third island rushing up to meet the falling element-caster.

Realizing he was plummeting directly toward a horde of waiting husks, the element-caster grit his teeth. He channeled the absolute last drops of his Astral energy into a violent, pressurized water blast aimed straight down.

BOOM!

The sudden counter-thrust snapped his body sideways in mid-air, halting his vertical death-fall and propelling him horizontally toward the outer edge of the dome array, where he slammed hard against the translucent barrier and caught a structural lip to keep from falling.

Meanwhile, the crimson silk vines shot upward with unnerving, unnatural speed.

They tore through the dome’s atmosphere, ascending higher and higher past the ruined landmasses, cutting through the abyssal currents until they reached the upper perimeter of the submerged sky.

There, Sen was thinking if he should really save Rain or not—before the silk wrapped around him and started to drag him down into the abyssal sea.