Both Scott and the Son of Light shifted their attention toward the skies. Scott’s brows creased slightly as he darted his gaze between the notifications announcing the calamities’ descent and the fracture forming above.

  Calamities afflicted with Madness… Scott repeated in his mind, eyes locked on the portal.

  At that moment, the chaotic battlefield’s tune changed once more. This time, the incessant echoes of war drums thundered across the land, rising and falling in sync with the calamitous meteor showers raining upon the already barren land.

  I can sense something familiar… they’re coming. Scott’s grip tightened around the war hammer. Simultaneously, the Judges of Madness lifted their heads, the sigil of the all-seeing eye focusing on the fracture. Suddenly, a tremor shook Scott’s arm, and he instinctively glanced down. The War Hammer of the Mad God trembled involuntarily, tendrils writhing and twisting around its form.

  What’s going on? Why is it reacting like that? Scott pondered.

  As soon as the thought reached his mind, a new system notification manifested.

  Scott raised his head, and a chuckle escaped his lips. There—floating midair—stood five nightmarish abominations of sheer terror.

  Despair—a grotesque titan of sinew and bone—descended to the ground. Its body, a mass of gnashing mouths crying in a thousand voices—pleading, cursing, and laughing in sorrow—shook the earth as it stepped forward. Wherever it roamed, the land decayed into a fouler ashen wasteland.

  The Endless Warden—Paranoia—a towering figure clad in shifting chains, bound yet never restrained, began its descent. Its many eyes twitched erratically, forever searching for unseen enemies. Upon landing, its chains rattled fiercely, its numerous eyes darting in every direction. The remaining calamities, however, remained suspended midair, unmoving, as if time itself had paused them.

  Scott cocked his head back, his laughter booming as tears welled in his eyes. The War Hammer of the Mad God trembled without end, the tendrils thrashing even more violently.

  “I know, I know,” Scott chuckled between fits of laughter. “I’m just as excited as you are,” he declared, tightening his grip on the weapon. The tremors ceased, and Scott stepped forward with measured ease, his grin wider than ever.

  The approaching calamities did not change their rhythm, advancing with an eerie certainty.

  The Maw that Weeps opened its many mouths, ancient voices echoing across the battlefield. “False prophet of the throne,” they cried in unison. “I loathe thee! Let hopelessness befall this world!”

  With that, a reddish-purple mist escaped from its numerous mouths, rapidly expanding across the battlefield. The Son of Light flew higher, watching the thick fog of despair blanket the land. Maddening whispers filled the air, tempting, probing, announcing one’s greatest failures, attempting to ensnare all in an endless hell of lament.

  At the same moment, Paranoia’s chains rattled louder, its erratic eyes twitching violently. The mouthless calamity swayed mindlessly, walking straight into the smog of despair.

  Scott’s steps pressed noiselessly against the barren land, his gaze unwavering as the approaching aura field expanded. He opened his mouth, and wordlessly, the concentrated mist churned. Before anyone could comprehend what was happening, the calamities and the Son of Light watched as the mist funneled into Scott’s open mouth—devoured whole.

  The calamities halted their advance. This time, however, Delirium, Oblivion, and Sadistic Mania simultaneously descended.

  Delirium—a monstrous amalgamation of flesh and flora—twisted its limbs, blooming into vibrant, pulsating flowers. Each petal bore a face, each root a writhing limb, and its infectious laughter spread across the battlefield like a plague.

  The Unspoken Harbinger—Oblivion—was a being wrapped in shifting, paradoxical forms—flickering between existence and nonexistence. It unleashed a mournful wail, its voice an unspeakable horror, for those who heard it lost all memory of self.

  The Laughing Crucible—a molten figure encased in jagged iron, forever laughing as it brands the world with its pain. Its sadistic laughter echoed through the thunderous war drums, reveling in suffering. Its bewitching mirth twisted the minds of those nearby—the stone statues of the former Judges—into willing participants of their own torment.

  Scott ignored the system messages, approaching the calamities at a measured pace, delirious giggles escaping from his lips. The calamities, with no hesitation, advanced toward Scott, each narrowing the distance.

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  Scott halted; his gaze focused on the colossal beings of nightmarish origins. His lips parted, and his voice echoed: “Ponder!”

  Silence followed, lasting but a moment before a series of system notifications appeared.

  As soon as the notification of the Scions’ interest manifested, darkness spread beneath Scott’s feet, and he instinctively dropped the War Hammer of the Mad God. Even the Chains of the Abyss noiselessly descended into the void, seemingly too terrified to make a sound.

  “How dare you open the gates to that abominable…” The Son of Light paused, locking gazes with Scott. Something had changed—an utterly terrifying presence now emanated from Scott, one the Son of Light could neither recognize nor oppose. Words refused to escape his open mouth.

  Scott’s gaze remained largely the same, yet exuded an oppressive aura beyond anything the battlefield had known. Even the advancing calamities halted in their tracks, their eyes keenly fixed on him.

  The darkness beneath Scott spread, and one by one, the Judges of Madness bowed as they sank into the void—noiselessly, just as the hammer and chains before them.

  Only the devastating impact of meteor showers and the distant thunder of war drums remained.

  Scott’s gaze fell upon the calamities. His mouth opened, and his voice echoed like a silent whisper, “Ponder,” he commanded.

  Simultaneously, the calamities prostrated, releasing a cacophony of wails, groans, cries, and ominous sounds. The unsettling chorus melded into a singular voice, one that threatened to fracture reality itself, as it declared: “The empty throne… destined for our lord!”

  “Wonder!” Scott’s voice rang again, authoritative and commanding.

  “The grace of he who is tormented by the flames of madness!” the voice cried with fervor.

  A smile cracked Scott’s lips, and his voice echoed once more. “Who stands before you?”

  Deafening silence loomed over the fractured timeline. The flaming rocks still descended upon the land, but their sound was swallowed, as were the ever-present war drums.

  As if an eternity had passed, the voice returned. “He who has been seen by the origin of it all,” it announced with maniacal devotion. “We will worship at the feet of he who has been chosen by the eternal throne!” it cried passionately. “Upon the world shall Madness descend, and the reverie of delirium shall begin—the Scion, the one true ruler of madness, shall sit upon the empty throne again!”

  The heavens shuddered at the appearance of the notification, and the sigil of the all-seeing eye began to manifest within the clouds. Then, another notification rang true.

  Scott ignored the stream of notifications, his gaze fixed on the sigil of the all-seeing eye forming in the clouds. The calamities remained prostrated on the ground, neither daring to move nor speak. Then another notification appeared.

  The messages flashed before Scott’s eyes, yet he remained indifferent. Several flickers of light manifested across the chaotic skies, and the echoes of war drums slowly returned, growing deafening with each beat.

  Scott watched as the dazzling lights dominating the skies disappeared one by one, and even the sigil of the all-seeing eye dissolved at the notification.

  He turned his attention to the calamities, and they vanished without a word. Scott shifted his gaze toward where the Son of Light had once hovered, but there was nothing—only empty space. The sprawling nihilistic zone had also dispersed, retreating beneath his feet once more.

  Scott silently read the message and raised his head once more. Why did the Administrator choose now of all times to step in? he pondered.

  The deafening war drums and the glowing blue screen were the last things he heard and saw before he, too, disappeared.