Pool Upgrade

Kasim's gaze dropped, taking in the dark tendrils piercing through his chest, then lifting to Ophelia, who stood a few steps away, her arm raised, her face expressionless. For a long, suspended moment, he froze, too stunned to speak.

Even Usak, ever loyal, hadn't seen this coming. In human form, his mouth hung open as he looked between Ophelia and the impaled Kasim, lost for words. For the first time, Usak looked shaken, like he wasn't sure where to stand or what to say.

Kasim's shock lasted only seconds. With a roar, he snapped back to life, pulling every ounce of strength into his trembling frame. His muscles tensed, rippling beneath his skin, and something in his eyes burned hot and unrestrained. The Tis Shield, an ancient structure of energy embedded within his body, began to stir, shimmering as though ready to detach and armor him in raw power.

This transformation—a sign that Kasim was ready to unleash everything he had—marked the first break in an alliance that had lasted thousands of years. For Kasim, there was no holding back now, no more hiding, no consideration for what exposing his full power might mean. One thought burned in his mind, eclipsing everything else:

Tear the traitor apart.

But Ophelia didn't flinch. She didn't even step back. Her extended tendrils quivered, but otherwise, she remained motionless.

Energy surged through the tendrils, an unseen force traveling like a shockwave through a wire. In an instant, the current flooded into Kasim, a torrent of raw power rushing into his body. He shuddered as though he'd been struck by lightning.

The Tis Shield, poised to activate, faltered. The energy he'd gathered dissipated, the strength he'd tried to summon fading back into him. He couldn't transform, couldn't even lift a hand. His anger, once blazing like a live coal, was smothered before it could fully ignite.

Ophelia's cold gaze held steady, her voice sharp as steel. "Look at you," she said, her words laced with disdain. "After centuries, countless cycles of rebirth, and you haven't learned a thing."

She held his gaze, unblinking. "You let rage drive you, but you never think about what it's worth. All that brute force—and nothing else. That's why you're always the easiest to deal with."

Kasim thrashed, every fiber of his being consumed with futile rage. His roars filled the chamber, but they were hollow, desperate. Each attempt to gather his strength met the same fate, the tendrils draining him before he could channel even a trace of power.

He could feel his life slipping away, his essence draining into Ophelia. Her energy enveloped his, pulling his strength, his existence, into her. No matter how he struggled, the outcome was inevitable. His once-commanding anger had been reduced to empty fury.

"It's sad, really," Ophelia continued, her tone cold and detached. "That look in your eyes—rage, always rage. It's all you know."

She tilted her head, studying him with a detached curiosity. "You're always angry, Kasim. Always lashing out, as if fighting makes you real, as if it gives you purpose. But tell me…have you ever truly felt anger?"

Kasim's snarl faltered, his expression shifting.

He kept his eyes locked on her, but the sounds of his rage fell silent.

Ophelia gave him a slight, contemptuous smile. "Leila was right, as much as I hate to admit it. You don't understand, any more than I do. We're just mimicking emotions, trying to pass for human. But real rage? The kind that burns through you like a fever? You don't have a clue."

She shook her head, as if dismissing him as something less than even an adversary.

Kasim's gaze hardened, his lips parting slightly as if to speak, but no words came.

Ophelia's smile shifted, turning sharp and chillingly beautiful. "Maybe you should thank me. If not for this moment, you might never know what it feels like."

She leaned in, her voice low and icy. "…what it feels like to be alive."

With a flick of her wrist, she poured more energy into the tendrils, amplifying the surge. Kasim's body convulsed, his strength draining even faster, pulled relentlessly into Ophelia.

But finally, he spoke.

"Just…like you," he rasped, his voice calm, stripped of the anger that had once defined him.

"This might get you closer to some resurrection, but we both know it's meaningless," he said, his mouth curling into a bitter smile. "We're all trying to fill the emptiness, the things we've lost. But deep down…we know the truth."

"You can't change anything. You're not even alive—and no amount of power will make you so."

As he said this, his form began to disintegrate, his energy slipping away, absorbed fully into Ophelia's being. The last of his human shape dissolved, leaving nothing but the memory of his presence.

"I'll wait for you in hell," he whispered, his voice fading, "but I doubt you'll be far behind."

With that, he was gone.

Every part of Kasim, from essence to physical form, had been absorbed into Ophelia. Her body shuddered, overloaded with the sudden influx of energy. For a moment, she nearly lost control, her Tis Shield flickering violently as waves of power surged within her, the sheer force blowing through the chamber, shattering the roof and exploding into the sky above.

The surge lasted for minutes before she managed to pull the energy back into herself, slowly stabilizing.

Usak, who had been watching, looked on with a mixture of awe and bewilderment, still reeling from what he'd witnessed.

Ophelia turned to him, her aura intensified, her strength unmistakable. Seeing him, she allowed a faint smile to cross her lips.

"In the end, it's just you," she murmured, her voice almost tender. "The only one I can count on, the only one who'll stay."

She extended her hand toward him, her gesture oddly human, as if inviting him into a dance.

Usak hesitated, but after a moment, he reached out, clasping her hand and bowing his head.

"Of course, Lady Ophelia," he said softly, his voice steady. "I'll be by your side."

"…always."

…

The Ninth Special Service Division HQ

Chaos erupted as the energy monitors spiked, the readings shooting to unprecedented levels. For centuries, the ancients had been cautious, their energy signatures barely detectable. Normally, readings were fleeting, too brief to pinpoint. But tonight was different.

The levels on the monitor had jumped so high that the agent on duty thought the system was malfunctioning.

Within minutes, the report was filed, and the division scrambled to deploy its elite operatives. Professor Miyazaki, alarmed by the readings, hurried to see the imprisoned ancient, Leila, and demanded an explanation.

Leila listened quietly, as though she'd been expecting the news.

"So," she murmured to herself, "Ophelia has finally decided to make her move…"

"What does that mean?" Miyazaki asked, his voice edged with urgency.

"It means," Leila replied, her voice calm and unshaken, "that you should prepare yourselves for a final battle."

…

Meanwhile, in Riverton City

Charlie stared at the flashing "Account Upgrade" message on his screen, a mix of surprise and puzzlement on his face.

At his current level, upgrades were hard to come by. He'd usually have to bring down a major boss to get anywhere close.

Earlier today, he'd faced off against an ancient leader, but he hadn't thought he was close enough to leveling up yet.

"It's the tech module, sir," Friday explained. "You've been overseeing multiple development projects. For heroes like Tony, equipment design and tech development accumulate experience."

In other words, Stark's recent time in the lab hadn't just yielded results—it had earned him experience points.

It was like leveling up in a role-playing game, crafting tools or refining materials to gain experience. Not every hero, after all, was a street fighter.

Street-level heroes like Spider-Man and Daredevil earned experience patrolling the city. For Stark, progress was made in the lab.

Charlie checked his upgrade rewards, scrolling through the new skills, though none seemed particularly game-changing. Most were skills he'd encountered before, and they didn't bring much to the table.

Still, he'd drawn proficiency in material science from Stark's skill pool, which, while not crucial, could prove useful for future projects. And "spiritual vision" from Moon Knight—an ability that allowed him to see and touch spirits, his strikes blessed by Khonshu's magic.

With most of his skills on the tech side, the metaphysical edge was a welcome addition, even if spirits weren't an everyday concern.

With his new skills stored away, Charlie turned back to the latest upgrade feature.

His face lit up as he read the words:

Hero Pool Upgrade!