Entering Apocalypse in Easy-Mode
Chapter 389: Changes

Chapter 389: Changes

After meeting with Gabriel, Zeus remained seated in the quiet gazebo for few minutes, unmoving as the winds whispered around him.

His gaze was fixed beyond the horizon, though his mind was far deeper still. He searching the endless vaults of memory for a time when Celestials and Angels had truly stood side by side.

But no such time existed. Not in all the countless eons. This alliance was unprecedented.

A thin smile tugged at the corner of his stern face, carved from storm and age.

Yet as his eyes settled once more on the approaching darkness. He can see clouds thick and crawling with the taint of corruption, then his smile vanished.

There would be no time for celebration. No time for ceremony or pride.

He rose with the weight of purpose anchoring every motion. The power in his steps cracked faint sparks beneath his feet.

As he exited the structure, the sky above rumbled faintly, as if acknowledging the gravity of what was to come and how his mind churning.

With a wave of his hand, a sigil flared in the air. It looks like lightning coiling into form. A moment later, his general appeared in a shimmer of static then kneeling before him.

"Send word to the uncorrupted soldiers," Zeus ordered, his soft but absolute. "Tell them to hold fast and ready themselves. We may not know the shape of what is coming, but it will come. They must be prepared for war... or worse. I will also prepare you all for that battle."

The general bowed without hesitation and vanished into lightning again to carry his mesdages.

Zeus turned toward the mountain-shaped spire that held his residence. He ascended the stairs with quick move and each step that heavy with thought and tension.

Once he was inside, he can see the halls that were dim and silent that looks like echoes of former glory dulled by the suffocating stillness that had begun to spread even here.

He reached the sealed gates of his armory. They opened with a groan, revealing the vault within. Racks of divine weapons, relics etched with runes, and artifacts too dangerous to be touched by mortal or minor Celestials.

Zeus walked past spears of pure skyfire and shields made from fragments of stars.

He was not here for himself.

He selected the strongest among them. The weaponry that forged in the era of war that he used to fight the Angels as well.

Each weapon pulsed with dormant power and he gathered them with careful reverence.

These were not meant to be just symbols for his power. They were tools of survival now. Instruments of final resistance.

Holding the last blade, Zeus paused, staring into its shimmering surface.

"This madness will end," he said quietly, hands tightening around the hilt. His voice, barely above a whisper, crackled with thunder.

"I swear it... by the laws that govern even us."

And then he turned, not burdened by fear but by the knowledge that he would have to break the very boundaries the Celestials once swore never to cross... if there was any hope of saving what remained and destroy this threat.

Zeus stood silently within the armory’s vault for few seconds, letting the quiet hum of power surround him as the weapons pulsed and flickered in.

One by one, he summoned them into his spatial Inventory. With a mere gesture, the blades, armors, and relics vanished into arcs of lightning, disappearing into the unseen space that only he could access.

When the last weapon was stored, Zeus sighed slowly. There was no more time to waste.

He turned and strode from the vault, down the long stairway of white stone, and out of the spire that crowned his residence.

As his feet touched the grounds again, the winds become stronger now, swirling with the tension of change.

He walked forward, toward the heart of the wide yards where his soldiers had already begun to gather.

All of them already armored and all with the same grim look in their eyes. They had felt the shift in the air.

They had seen the dark clouds of corruption crawling across the sky and they knew that something ancient was awakening, something darker than any war they’d ever fought.

Zeus stopped in the center of the courtyard. His eyes swept over the soldiers who had resisted corruption and still stood firm despite the crumbling of their golden age.

Without speaking, he raised his hand and a flicker of lightning summoned a massive chest from his inventory.

When it touched the ground, it split open, revealing weapons that had not seen light in centuries.

"This is no longer the time for hoarding relics or our guarding pride," Zeus said, his voice sounded deep and resolute. "Take them. Arm yourselves. These are a promise that we will not fall quietly!"

There was no cheering, only nods, firm grips on hilts, and the silent acknowledgment that the battle ahead would change everything.

Zeus stood among them, the first to break the old laws of possession, the first to share power freely. And in doing so, he expected to lit a spark in the hearts of his kin.

---

Far across the realms, deep in the twisted grandeur of Hell, Demon Duchess Graemory stood at the edge of a shattered obsidian cliff, mouth slightly open, her crimson eyes reflecting the sickly hue of the sky.

The air here was thick with a foul taint. Corruption that whispered, writhed, and gnawed at the edges of the domains.

It was everywhere in the Demon Realms now, but this was different.

She had come to Asmodeus’s domain expecting chaos, infection, perhaps worse just like what she saw in the other domains.

Instead, she found eerie silence. The twisted spires of his citadel loomed as always, his infernal banners flew untouched, and his soldiers... they were normal.

They trained. They patrolled. Their auras were dark but feels controlled untainted.

Graemory narrowed her eyes. The corruption was here, she could feel it crawling under her skin, but none of it touched Asmodeus’s forces.

Her own domain had suffered, but her followers were oddly resilient to the plague. She hadn’t understood why until now.

Something is shielding them, or someone.

"Asmodeus," she whispered, suspicion coiling in her voice like a blade.

He was absent. No messengers or guards at the main gate, no fanfare to greet her arrival. Only the corruption pulsing beneath the surface and the growing certainty that this was no coincidence.

"What is going on here?" Graemory muttered.

Her thoughts turned immediately to Clyde.

For days she had been consumed with protecting her domain and assisting lesser Demon Kings as their armies rotted from within.

And yet, the more she saw, the more a disturbing pattern emerged. The corruption seemed to avoid certain placesor certain people.

Like her own followers and now Asmodeus’s.

Graemory clenched her fist, then turned on her heel. She needed answers and she knew the only one who might give them to her was the unpredictable, impossible human who had refused Asmodeus himself.

"I need to find Clyde," she said aloud, spreading her wings wide.

With a flash of crimson flame, she vanished into the air.

---

Clyde returned to his mansion. The corridors were quiet, bathed in the soft glow of the magical lights embedded in the walls.

Asqa still wasn’t back.

He’d expected her training would take time, but he started to feel a little bit of worry.

Frowning, he made his way to his room. The moment he stepped past the threshold, he felt something in the air shifted.

Then a tear opened in space itself. A portal formed in a burst of crimson and black.

Graemory stepped out, her eyes sharp and burning with focus and her expression was deadly serious.

"What is it?" he asked, though he already suspected the reason.

Graemory didn’t waste time with pleasantries. "I need to know if you have anything to do with the corruption spreading these past few days."

"Yes," he said simply. "I’m surprised it took you this long to figure it out."

Graemory narrowed her gaze. Her lips parted slightly but no words came immediately.

Something about him had changed.

Before, Clyde had been a mortal with a System interface. Now, he radiated something different. Not just strength.

It was like standing before a being who wasn’t supposed to exist.

An anomaly in the balance.

His aura pulsed subtly, and Graemory realized with dawning unease that the strange energy she had felt in her own followers... it was the same.

"You’ve become something else," she murmured.

Clyde shrugged. "That’s one way to put it. The System is evolving. And so am I."

Graemory’s wings shifted behind her as she moved a step closer.

"Explain. Now."

Clyde turned away briefly, his expression unreadable, then looked back.

"The corruption isn’t random," he said. "It’s casused by the Ancient god to purge the higher beings. And I’ve become... central to that event, a Catalyst."

Graemory frowned in confusion.

---