(Meanwhile, on Planet Ixtal, Leo’s POV)
"Why don’t you try this on for size?"
The moment those words reached him through the livestream, goosebumps spread across Leo’s skin as his breath caught for a fraction of a second, not because he was startled or uncertain, but because something deep inside him had already recognized the intent behind them, as though Soron had reached across space itself and pressed a switch that had been waiting to be flipped.
’That’s the signal.’
Leo thought as he straightened immediately, the tension in his shoulders shifting into controlled readiness as his body responded faster than conscious thought, his hand clenching once before relaxing as his gaze hardened and his posture changed just enough for the Cult Commanders around him to notice.
No orders were spoken.
They did not need to be.
The moment Leo turned and walked away from the projection, the command chamber erupted into motion behind him, not through panic or noise, but through practiced efficiency, as relays lit up, officers snapped into position, and deployment sequences that had been prepared long in advance finally crossed the threshold from planning to execution.
*Step* *Step* *Step*
Leo did not look back.
As he moved, his mind shifted away from Soron’s words and onto the path that connected Ixtal to ’The Pit’, the ancient tunneling map Moltherak had entrusted to him unfolding in his thoughts as he recalled the exact vector he needed to follow to reach it.
’Twenty-four point two four degrees.’
He had already calculated it from the ancient map days ago, knowing with certainty that at that precise orientation, he would reach ’The Pit’ after an arduous journey of roughly fifteen minutes spent inside the Dimensional Tunnel.
’Can’t make any mistakes now... or billions of lives will be doomed alongside me.’
He thought as he scanned the wide plains outside the command station.
Plains where the Cult Army was already in motion.
Across the horizon, soldiers streamed toward their assigned transports in disciplined waves as Commanders shouted final confirmations, destroyers lifting from the ground one by one as engines roared to life, their undersides glowing as anti-gravity fields engaged, while frigates and carriers adjusted altitude and spacing in preparation for immediate departure.
Leo walked through the center of it all, his presence cutting a clean line through motion and noise alike, as pilots straightened instinctively when he passed.
"Pilots... you can make no mistakes today."
Leo had told them during a private briefing hours earlier, when he had shaken hands with every Cult pilot manning an aircraft, reminding them of the importance of precise timing and absolute accuracy during this dangerous journey through the fourth dimension.
"Huff—"
Letting out a deep breath, Leo stopped at the edge of the plains, where the ground dipped slightly and the air felt thinner, as he closed his eyes and raised his hand.
*Slash*
He cut through empty air, tracing a narrow line with controlled precision as he began committing the entry angle to muscle memory before opening the tunnel.
’That was precisely 24.24°.’
He thought, before slashing again, and again, and again, until he felt assured that each cut followed the same arc, the same orientation, and the same angle, without requiring conscious correction.
’Twenty-four point two four.’
He confirmed once more before opening his eyes, as he spread his aura thin while probing for dimensional weaknesses in his surroundings.
’...’
A few seconds passed.
Then he sensed it.
A faint distortion.
’There it is...’
He thought, as he stepped forward and conjured an aura dagger before cutting open a Dimensional Tunnel with it without hesitation.
*SLASH*
*FSHHHH—*
Reality split.
Colors bled into one another as the dimensional tunnel tore open, wind snapping erratically as space refused to settle into depth or distance, the opening barely wide enough for a single human body as the edges trembled under strain.
’I’ve done it... I’ve opened the tunnel, but I need to widen it so the army’s jets can pass.
And for that, I need Moltherak’s orb.’
Leo thought as he reached into his storage ring and withdrew the aura orb Moltherak had given him a few weeks ago.
Even sealed, it pressed against his senses like a coiled storm.
’I need fifteen minutes. Just fifteen. Let’s hope I can withstand his pressure for that long.’
He prayed, as he layered a thick aura shield around himself methodically, one layer after another, before cracking the orb open, as he unleashed the ancient Dragon’s aura.
*THRUMMM*
*TREMBLE*
Violent aura surged outward in a chaotic wave, slamming into the tunnel’s boundaries as reality groaned under the pressure, the opening widening rapidly as brute force replaced finesse, causing the ground below Leo’s feet to shake.
*Wobble*
Leo felt his knees weaken as the pressure crashed into him, his vision swimming as blood surged up his throat.
’Shit, I’m fucked—’
Leo thought, as he forcibly bit the blood back down hard and pushed his body to obey his will.
’So this is Moltherak’s true power....’
Leo realized, as he felt the true power of a tyrant’s killing intent compressed into a small sphere.
"Take this orb boy, and crush it just before you enter the Dimensional Tunnel.
While your aura is not strong enough to let an army pass through, mine is.
So as long as you can endure my pressure, one orb should allow you and your army to safely pass to your destination."
Moltherak had told him when he handed him the orb, however, it seemed to be a simpler plan back then, than now.
’Too strong... it’s too strong...’
Leo thought, as he realized just how impossible a task it was for him to withstand this insane pressure for fifteen straight minutes, but even so, he gathered his resolve and stepped forward, knowing well that failure at this stage was not an option.
*Step*
*Step*
Slowly, deliberately, he entered the Dimensional Tunnel, the rift expanding further as it swallowed the chaotic orb whole.
*FSHHHHHHHH!*
*TREMBLE*
Now resembling a massive tear in space, the tunnel widened enough to accommodate ships as the distortion settled into something barely stable, the air vibrating as though reality itself were holding its breath.
"Pilots," Leo said quietly, his voice carrying instantly through intercom relays across the plains.
"Follow me in. Now."
He commanded, as the Destroyers aligned first, their hulls sliding into position with precise spacing as frigates followed, carriers adjusting altitude and orientation behind them, engines roaring in synchronized bursts as the fleet formed a single-file line aimed directly at the tunnel.
One by one, the ships followed Leo into the rift, vanishing into warped space as the Cult Army finally moved, leaving Ixtal behind as they marched toward The Pit, toward a battle between Gods, and toward saving their Dragon, Aegon Veyr.
Their God and Sect Master had called for aid.
And the Shadow Dragon had answered.