(A few days earlier, Planet Ixtal, Leo and Soron’s POV)
*Steam rising*
*Sunlight pouring through tinted glass*
Soron sat across from Leo with a warm teacup cradled in his hands, thin wisps of steam curling upward as golden light spilled through the windows and painted half his face in soft warmth, while the other half remained steeped in shadow, thoughtful and unreadable.
He listened without interruption, eyes lowered to the surface of the tea as though the answer might be waiting there.
"Think about it, Cult Master," Leo said steadily, leaning forward just enough to show conviction without urgency.
"If you cut open a pathway to the Fourth Dimension at exactly ninety-four point four four degrees from the heart of The Pit, you’ll find Moltherak waiting on the other side, already coiled and prepared."
Soron’s brow twitched almost imperceptibly.
"As long as you can trick one of the Gods into stepping through," Leo continued, voice calm but intent, "then that should be enough. Moltherak will do the rest."
The suggestion hung in the air between them, bold to the point of recklessness, as Soron remained silent, lifting the cup to his lips and taking a slow sip, the heat grounding him as his mind raced through possibilities, angles, risks, and inevitable failures.
For a long moment, the only sound in the room was the faint clink of porcelain.
Then he exhaled, long and measured, lowering the cup as he cleared his throat.
"I’ll give you this, kid," Soron said at last, a faint, tired smile tugging at the corner of his mouth. "It’s a very bold and creative plan."
He ran a hand through his hair, fingers dragging back as though trying to physically push the thought away.
"But forcing a God into a portal he doesn’t want to enter is not exactly a casual maneuver," he continued, his tone turning more serious. "Especially not when I’ll be handling seven opponents at the same time."
Soron leaned back slightly, gaze drifting toward the window as if remembering past battles fought against other Gods.
"You see, God-level combat doesn’t happen cleanly in the Third Dimension," he said quietly.
"It takes place between the Third and the Fourth, right at the boundary where reality stops being... cooperative."
He glanced back at Leo.
"Time doesn’t behave normally there.
And If I stop for even a fraction too long to shove someone into a portal, that single action will cost me everything else."
His fingers tightened faintly around the cup.
"I’d be trading one move for my life," Soron said bluntly. "Six other attacks would land in that same instant. That much I’m sure of."
The admission settled heavily, as Soron searched his own thoughts for a workaround, for some clever inversion or loophole that might make the plan safer.
However, unfortunately for him, he found none at this moment.
"I won’t promise you I can pull this off," he said at last, meeting Leo’s eyes fully now. "What I can promise though, is that I’ll try."
Leo remained silent, listening.
"I’ll aim for Helmuth," Soron added. "If anyone can be baited into overcommitting, it’s him. But I won’t sacrifice my life just to make it happen."
He paused, then continued more quietly.
"If, between now and the battle, I find a way to do it without dying, then I’ll commit fully to your plan."
"And if I can’t..." he said, shaking his head once, "...then I will rather spend my last minutes trying to take down as many of these bastards as I can, while my body still responds to my mind."
He concluded as he finished his tea in one last sip.
*Tap*
Placing the empty cup back on the table, he glanced towards Leo, who nodded solemnly, as if understanding exactly what Soron was trying to convey, as in the end, Leo understood that he was not a God....And that while he could sketch strategies in theory, the execution of those theories depended on Soron alone.
"That makes sense," Leo said after a moment. "I’ll still ask Moltherak to be there, just on the off chance you can indeed pull it off...."
He met Soron’s gaze squarely.
"Ninety-four point four four degrees, Cult Master.
Just try for it, if you can."
He said, as Soron gave a slow, deliberate nod, the weight of the future settling onto his shoulders as sunlight continued to spill across the table, unaware of the war being planned beneath its glow.
—----------
(Present Day, The Pit, Soron’s POV)
The closer he got to the heart of the Pit, the more vividly he remembered his conversation with Leo, as the number ’94.44’ kept repeating in his head again and again.
"Just try for it Cult Master.... If you can."
Soron recalled Leo speaking, as oddly, looking back at that conversation now, he could not help but smile even wider.
*Step*
*Dodge*
*Shatter*
Weaving through the attacks of seven opponents, he continued to move towards the heart while leading seven opponents on, as at this moment, he finally saw a solution for two of the biggest problems weighing down on his mind for the past several days.
’I finally see it.... I finally see a way to pass on the Grudgekeeper set and push Helmuth into the Fourth Dimension.’
Soron thought, as in a rare moment of enlightenment, he figured out a sequence of attacks through which he could possibly achieve the impossible.
’Leo Skyshard you crazy lad.
Oh how I wish I could have met you just a few centuries earlier.
Perhaps if we met back then, I would not have to die after this fight.
Perhaps if we met back then.....
Then I would have been fortunate enough to watch you rebuild the Cult with my own eyes.
Alas, fate has not been so kind to me.’
He thought, as a tiny tear formed at the edge of his eyes.
His lips smiling, however, his heart aching, as he realized that he only had a few more minutes of his body being able to support him at this tier, before it shut down forever.