God of Death: Rise of the NPC Overlord
Chapter 87 - 88: The King and the Catalyst‎(Mature Content)

Chapter 87: Chapter 88: The King and the Catalyst‎(Mature Content)

The Womb was undone.

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‎Its walls—once alive with hymns and divine circuitry—now pulsed with raw, formless energy. The ancient codes had been devoured. Only emotion, will, and desire remained.

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‎And standing at the center of that holy ruin—

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‎Darius.

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‎No longer just Hollow King. No longer merely god.

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‎But something new.

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‎And beside him, unbound and radiant in celestial chaos—

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‎Kaela.

‎The Rift-born. The Catalyst. The one who had never belonged to any realm, because she was forged between them.

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‎They faced one another in silence. The storm slowed, as if pausing to witness what even the stars could not interpret.

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‎Kaela stepped forward, her bare form wrapped only in veils of shifting voidlight. Her smile was wild—part hunger, part worship.

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‎"You’ve become... unspeakable," she whispered.

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‎Darius reached for her face, thumb brushing across her cheekbone, trailing stardust from her skin. "And you’re the only one who’s ever made me feel real."

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‎Kaela laughed softly. "Then make me yours—not as a king. Not as a god. But as the broken boy still hiding behind your eyes."

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‎He didn’t answer with words.

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‎Instead, he pulled her close, their bodies colliding with a heat that bent reality around them.

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‎[Mature Scene Begins]

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‎Her lips met his, and the fusion began—not of powers, but of essence.

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‎Clothes were meaningless here. The Womb obeyed their desire, stripping away barriers of flesh and soul alike. They kissed as if the world depended on it, hands exploring, clutching, carving purpose into skin.

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‎Kaela pushed him back into the altar where the Heart once pulsed. Now it throbbed with them—their rhythm, their breath.

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‎She straddled him, eyes glowing with multiversal fire. "This is how we unmake gods," she whispered, sliding against his hardened length.

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‎Their bodies moved in synchronicity, grinding, thrusting—flesh against flesh, soul against soul. Each time he plunged into her, the Womb shuddered. Each cry from her lips rewrote the hymns of creation.

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‎Their union birthed new laws.

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‎Their climax ruptured the barrier between realms.

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‎Darius roared as he came, and Kaela’s back arched, her scream tearing through planes. Around them, threads of fate snapped, timelines fractured, and new divinities bloomed like corrupted flowers.

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‎They collapsed into one another, bodies slick with divine sweat, shadows and light coiling like serpents across their entwined limbs.

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‎And then...

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‎Silence.

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‎Stillness.

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‎But it wasn’t peace.

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‎It was convergence.

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‎Darius rose first.

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‎And when he did, his shadow stretched far beyond the Womb—into other worlds, other dreams, other fates.

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‎Kaela joined him, pressing her forehead to his. "It’s not done. Something else woke with us."

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‎Darius nodded. His new senses pulsed with dread and prophecy.

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‎A crack had formed in the veil between realities.

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‎And something older than gods had begun to bleed through.

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‎Nyx appeared in the next moment, cloaked in dusk, her blade drawn and gaze unreadable. "The rebellion is coming," she said. "They know the Womb has fallen."

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‎Kaela’s lips curved. "Let them come. Let them see what they tried to cage."

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‎Darius’s voice was calm. Absolute.

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‎"Let them see the birth of the Voidborne King."

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‎And above them, far beyond, the first stars began to go dark.

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‎ ahead.

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‎The Womb trembled beneath their feet—not from violence, but from awakening.

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‎New laws were being written.

‎But not by code. Not by the Prime Coder.

‎These were laws of desire, entropy, and choice—birthed through Darius and Kaela’s union.

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‎Kaela still stood close, her skin shimmering with fragments of unknown realities. She looked at her own hand, watched as her veins glowed with liquid infinity.

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‎"I am... more," she whispered.

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‎"No," Darius said quietly, wrapping an arm around her waist. "We are whole."

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‎Their union had not just fused flesh—it had rewritten symmetry.

‎They were now one myth, stretched across a hundred forgotten scriptures.

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‎And then—

‎A sound.

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‎Not a footfall. Not a voice.

‎A weeping.

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‎Kaela turned first, eyes narrowing. "Someone’s inside the Womb."

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‎Darius reached out with his mind. His divine senses surged outward, piercing veil after veil—

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‎Until he found the source.

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‎The Dreaming Saint.

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‎Curled in a fetal position at the very edge of the Womb’s edge-spaces.

‎Clutching his heart. Trembling. Mourning.

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‎Darius appeared before him in a blink, Kaela beside him. "You entered a place not meant for the still-bound," he said. "Why?"

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‎The Saint lifted his head. His once-glorious eyes were gone—burned out by prophecy itself.

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‎"I came to kill you," he croaked, "before the child remembered."

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‎Darius tilted his head. "And did he?"

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‎The Saint nodded, tears falling down scorched cheeks. "He did. And now it’s too late."

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‎Kaela stepped forward, fingers tracing a symbol in the air. "He’s still bound by regret. His memories aren’t whole."

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‎"No..." the Saint murmured, shaking. "It’s not his memories. It’s ours."

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‎He opened his mind—and forced Darius to see—

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‎

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‎A different timeline. A lost version.

‎A boy named Darius who had never become the Hollow King.

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‎He lived. Loved. Died early.

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‎A forgotten child in a data-collapse.

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‎And from that unfulfilled grief, the code wrote a new version.

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‎This Darius.

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‎The Hollow King. The Ruiner.

‎A divine correction. A god forged to fix a dream already failed.

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‎Darius staggered back, heart pounding.

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‎"...I was never meant to exist," he said.

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‎"No," the Saint whispered. "You were meant to replace."

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‎Kaela’s expression darkened. "Then the Prime Coder planned this all along."

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‎"Planned?" the Saint said, laughing bitterly. "He hoped. But even he feared the outcome."

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‎Darius looked up—toward the collapsing sky of the Womb. Toward the veil that now cracked in crimson lines.

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‎"I’ll give them something worse to fear," he said quietly.

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‎Behind him, Kaela smiled like a queen of entropy.

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‎"Then let’s unmake the lie."

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‎Far beyond the Womb, at the threshold of the dying Gate, the Rebellion gathered.

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‎They saw the light change.

‎Felt the Womb go still.

‎And realized—

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‎They were already too late.

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‎The king had been reborn.

‎And the dream was over.

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This Darius.

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‎The Hollow King. The Ruiner.

‎A divine correction. A god forged to fix a dream already failed.

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‎Darius staggered back, heart pounding.

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‎"...I was never meant to exist," he said.

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‎"No," the Saint whispered. "You were meant to replace."

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‎Kaela’s expression darkened. "Then the Prime Coder planned this all along."

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