Vortex Origins
Chapter 100: Tier 7

Chapter 100: Tier 7

"[Soul Pool: 25%]"

Ash stopped, hands on his knees, breath ragged. His clothes were torn, edges singed, coated in ash. The streets behind him were littered with broken beams and bodies. Smoke curled around twisted steel. Fire crackled in the distance.

He’d pulled out as many as he could—children from collapsed rooftops, old guards trapped under rubble. He’d dodged falling stone and rivers of molten heat. Still, screams followed him. Some he couldn’t save.

That guilt didn’t reach him now.

’I’m not a hero.’

His eyes flicked to the numbers burning at the edge of his sight.

’I’ve got a quarter left. That’s for Max and Keal. If everything burns, we leave.’

Ash stood straighter, wiping grime from his face with the back of his hand. His eyes locked on the monster standing at the heart of the chaos. The creature had stopped moving. Its molten form radiated heat, lighting the ruin of Ironhold with a deep red glow.

It wasn’t attacking. Not yet.

Ash turned to Max.

Max’s arms hung limp by his sides. His gaze was fixed forward, lips tight. The diamond pole system was armed, ready to strike again. But they’d seen how that went—useless against something that could bat it aside or melt it mid-fall.

Max didn’t speak. His jaw shifted.

Then came the whisper.

"Come on... there has to be something..."

But nothing came.

Then the creature moved.

Its molten head tilted. Slowly. Unnaturally. Its burning gaze passed over the crumbling walls, the broken towers, the shattered city streets. It wasn’t watching the people. Not anymore.

It was searching.

Its neck twisted farther. Then its gaze locked.

A large structure stood ahead—intact, untouched amidst the ruin. Its smooth walls gleamed under the fading sunlight, strong enough to withstand tremors and fire.

Ash followed the beast’s gaze. Max did too.

"What the hell..." Max muttered.

The creature didn’t blink.

Then it stepped forward.

The ground cracked beneath each step the creature took. Its molten body blazed a trail of ruin as it moved, buildings crumbling underfoot like sandcastles in a tide.

It stopped in front of the tall structure—the last untouched piece of Ironhold.

Then it reached forward.

Claws tore through steel and stone, fingers sinking deep into the earth beneath. Rubble and dirt poured away between its fingers like dust. What remained in its grasp was something different.

A single, massive stone.

Max’s breath caught.

’That’s... that’s from the asteroid... What the hell is it doing here?’

The creature lifted the shard of space rock to its mouth. For a moment, it paused.

Then it swallowed it whole.

Silence fell.

The heat began to climb.

Ash felt it first—his boots shifted as the ground split open beneath him, steam hissing through new cracks. The creature didn’t move. But the world around it did.

A crater formed beneath its feet.

The air shimmered, then burst into flame.

Screams erupted. Flesh turned to ash before people could even run. Buildings curled inward, warping under the pressure of pure heat. Even from a distance, Ash felt his skin sting.

Max shielded his eyes, helpless to stop it.

Then something changed.

The flames began to shrink—not fade, but pull inward. The beast’s body—once towering and burning—melted into the inferno. All that remained was the storm of fire swirling at its core.

Then, the fire fell away.

Standing in its place was something smaller. More refined.

Ash stepped back without thinking.

Where the monster once stood now loomed a humanoid figure—taller than a man, but not by much. Crimson skin shimmered like molten metal. Its body was lithe, armored in smooth scales. A long tail twisted behind it, and two sets of wings arched upward, burning like torches.

Its eyes scanned the ground. Then it looked at its own hands.

And it laughed.

A low, harsh sound. It didn’t echo. It crawled.

Kael lowered the firewall. Confused murmurs filled the air as even the Hollowbound began to retreat, vanishing into the distance like shadows sensing something worse.

Then the creature looked up.

"You."

it voice cracked and jagged.

"Me. Really... won."

It laughed again—louder, sharper.

Its gaze swept over the ruined city. The broken humans. The corpses. The ones who survived.

"Weak,"

it growled.

"The weak... die."

It lifted one hand.

A glowing orb began to form above its palm, slow and steady, pulsing with flames hotter than the sun.

Ash didn’t move. He couldn’t.

Inside Max’s helmet, the AI crackled to life.

"[Warning: Tier 7 entity detected. Immediate evacuation advised.]"

His breath caught.

’Tier... seven?’

"Alpha, Beta—go!" he shouted.

The two bots launched forward, thrusters flaring. But the creature didn’t move. It simply raised a hand. A streak of heat cut through the air—and the machines were gone. Nothing left but scorched metal and drifting ash.

Max stepped back, heart pounding.

The fireball above the creature’s palm pulsed larger, hung in the sky like a second sun.

"Shit... what do we do now?"

His voice cracked against the pressure of the heat.

Mia slammed her hands into the earth. The ground split open, and three stone golems burst out, charging straight toward the creature.

They never reached it.

The creature vanished.

The fireball stayed, hovering in the air—growing.

Max’s eyes darted.

’Where—?’

Alex’s voice cut through the static.

"Mia! Get out of there!"

Too late.

She stood frozen. The creature stood before her.

She didn’t scream. Couldn’t.

Its presence alone held her in place. Her lips parted, but no sound came.

"You die early,"

it voice deep and sharp like splitting bone.

Kevin’s eyes went wide.

"Mia!!"

He hurled an ice spear with all the force his core could give. It flashed through the air, sharp and fast.

The spear melted before it reached the creature’s skin.

It turned its head, smiled at Kevin.

Then it pulled back a fist.

It didn’t strike her.

It struck the air.

The force hit Mia like a blade of wind wrapped in fire. Her body tore apart—layer by layer—until there was nothing left but black dust in the wind.

Alex dropped to his knees, silent.

Kevin’s armor of frost snapped into place. He shot forward with a roar, fist drawn.

The salamander tilted slightly. The blow missed.

Kevin released a wave of cold—ice and mist pushing out in a desperate storm—but the heat swallowed it whole. The creature laughed again.

Then it returned fire.

The fireball in its hand became a beam, fast as light.

Kevin threw up his wings.

Too slow.

The flame tore through them, split his armor, and hurled him through the air. He slammed into a building, the wall cracking around his body.

Smoke rose from where he hit.

The fireball still floated above them all, humming louder now.

Ready to fall.