Parallel Memory

Chapter 679 679: Zeros Answer

The throne room burned with quiet destruction.

Each breath Zero took drew in air heavy with mana and the scent of scorched stone. The world around him was a blur of black flame and collapsing marble—the remnants of Aamon's awakening pressing down on reality itself.

The Devil King stood amid the ruin, crimson aura pulsing like a living heartbeat that warped the air around him. His wings, black and enormous, unfurled behind him like the night sky itself, each movement distorting light and space.

"You're still standing," Aamon said softly, his voice echoing with unholy grace. "After taking a strike meant to erase nations. I should be angry, and yet…"

He smiled—a slow, almost human smile. "I'm impressed."

Zero's hand trembled slightly as he raised his sword again. The fractured blue glow along the blade's edge flickered like dying embers. "Save your compliments," he said coldly. "You're wasting your breath."

Aamon laughed, the sound deep and sharp, reverberating through the broken walls. "Ah, so much pride in such a fragile vessel. Tell me, Zero Elea—do you even realize what you've defied?"

Zero's gaze hardened. His voice was low but unwavering. "Yes."

Aamon tilted his head, amused. "Then you know this is where it ends. You have no chance, human. The gap between us isn't one of power, but of existence. You are bound to time, to flesh, to failure. I am not."

The Devil King's crimson aura flared violently, shaking the ground beneath them. The entire throne hall quaked, cracks spreading across the walls like veins. "You cannot defeat me, Zero Elea. You were born in a world where humans kneel before gods and monsters alike. That is your fate."

Zero slowly lowered his sword. For a moment, it looked as if he had accepted it. His head bowed, and his breath steadied.

Then he spoke, voice calm and strangely resolute.

"Maybe that was true once. But not anymore."

Aamon's eyes narrowed. "Oh?"

Zero looked up. His expression had changed—no longer one of exhaustion or defiance, but of acceptance. "I've found the answer," he said quietly. "The one the fortune teller spoke of—the destiny that needed two to stand against the devil."

Aamon's grin widened, intrigued. "Two? There is no one left, human. All who could have aided you are dying outside these walls."

Zero smiled faintly. "You're wrong."

The air shifted.

A deep, resonant hum filled the throne room as Zero lowered his sword and extended his left hand toward the ground. His shadow began to ripple, as if alive.

Aamon's amusement faded. "What are you doing?"

Zero didn't respond. He closed his eyes, focusing inward—into the bond that connected him not to the world, but to the one he had met beyond it.

"You said destiny could be rewritten."

"If you dare to pay the price."

He remembered that voice—his other self, the man from Earth who shared his soul, and the Emperor of Destruction who had demanded freedom.

Zero opened his eyes again, the blue in his irises deepening into a brilliant silver glow. "I'm rewriting it."

Aamon frowned. "Rewriting… destiny?"

The ground beneath Zero cracked open. His shadow began to stretch outward, thickening, dark mana pouring from his feet like liquid night. It pooled and gathered, coalescing into a shape—his own silhouette standing separate from his body.

The temperature plummeted. The black flames around Aamon flickered, uncertain.

"You can't be serious," the Devil King whispered.

But Zero was dead serious. His voice trembled only slightly as he spoke. "You said I'm bound by flesh, by time, by existence. So I'll give up what ties me down."

The shadow began to take form. Two eyes opened in the darkness—cold, golden, and ancient.

A deep, echoing laugh filled the chamber. Not Aamon's. Not Zero's. Something else entirely.

"So… you've finally decided."

The voice was smooth and heavy, carrying a tone that made even Aamon's flames shiver. The shadow's body solidified, taking on texture, weight, and color.

A humanoid figure stepped out of the darkness, tall and broad-shouldered, his movements carrying the effortless confidence of a predator. His skin was the same tone as Zero's, his hair slightly longer, streaked faintly with silver.

The Emperor of Destruction had arrived.

As his face came fully into light, Aamon's expression changed—from amusement to genuine shock.

They looked almost identical. Twins born of the same soul. But where Zero's aura was sharp and disciplined, the Emperor's was vast, chaotic, and ancient. He radiated power like a dying star ready to collapse into something greater.

Thunder clapped above the palace, shaking the heavens themselves. The light from the cracks in the ceiling illuminated them both—two sides of the same existence standing against the Devil King.

Destiny itself was being rewritten.

Aamon's crimson wings twitched. He stepped back slightly, studying the newcomer. "So this is your answer," he said softly. "You split your soul. You gave your shadow form."

Zero nodded once, voice low. "The fortune teller said two would stand against the devil. You wanted to break fate? Fine. I'll bend it instead."

The Emperor smiled faintly, his eyes narrowing as he flexed his fingers. "It's been a while since I've felt a real body. I almost forgot how heavy existence feels."

Zero looked at him warily. "You remember our deal?"

The Emperor's smirk widened. "Of course. You fight to protect, I fight to destroy. That's what makes us perfect opposites."

Their auras flared simultaneously—light and darkness, creation and ruin—fusing for an instant before stabilizing into a breathtaking equilibrium.

Aamon's crimson flames dimmed against the glow that filled the chamber. For the first time since his ascension, he looked genuinely entertained.

"So that's it…" he murmured, voice laced with admiration and madness. "You've turned prophecy into rebellion. You're no longer one will, but two. A human—and a god-killer."

He spread his wings wide, the pressure returning, even heavier than before. "This is divine irony, Zero Elea. I, the Devil King, standing against the boy who birthed his own shadow god."

The Emperor chuckled darkly. "I prefer 'Emperor of Destruction.' But you can call me whatever you want before I tear your kingdom apart."

Zero tightened his grip on his sword, standing beside the Emperor. The light of his blue aura intertwined with the Emperor's dark crimson glow, creating an impossible blend of color—something not meant to exist.

Aamon's grin widened. "Very well, then."

The entire throne room trembled. Black flames surged, twisting like storms, as the Devil King spread his arms wide.

"Let destiny bear witness to this defiance!" Aamon roared. "Come, humans—show me how you intend to rewrite fate!"

Thunder cracked again, splitting the heavens. The floor beneath them glowed with runic sigils as ancient forces stirred.