End of The Simulation!

"I want you to be my messenger and play your part in my revival."

The words rang out like a command, and the scarlet eyes of the dark god locked onto Harry. There was an unspoken authority in that gaze, a weight that seemed to press down on him from all sides. "It will be your honor," the dark god continued, its voice smooth, yet laced with an eerie, commanding tone.

Harry's muscles tensed, but he kept his expression calm, betraying no fear. He had learned to mask his emotions, even when confronted with the impossible. "What do you want me to do?" His voice was steady, but his mind raced. He couldn't afford to underestimate this being, even if it appeared to be playing with him.

"Don't worry," the god's voice resonated in his mind, "it will be very simple."

A chill ran down Harry's spine as the god's presence seemed to fill the entire space. The words felt like a command, but they carried something darker, a promise. "Give me this body, one that has been strengthened by my power!" The voice rang out again, clearer now, as if the god had reached directly into Harry's soul.

Before Harry could react, the world around him seemed to distort. A surge of dark energy erupted from every direction, a violent storm of power that twisted the very air around him. His body froze.

Suddenly, he could no longer move. His limbs refused to obey, as though an invisible hand had seized control of him. Panic gripped his chest, but his mind stayed sharp, alert. 'This was bad.' Something—no, 'someone'—was attempting to take over his body. His consciousness screamed in resistance, but his body remained still, locked in place.

From the dark, distant realm, the god watched with a satisfied smile playing at the edges of its ethereal face. For gods like him, bound by countless eons of imprisonment, morality and honor were nothing more than fleeting illusions. He had waited long enough. The mortal in front of him had served his purpose, Harry's body, now brimming with divine power, was the perfect vessel to carry the dark god's consciousness.

Harry's body had been transformed, bolstered by the incredible life force of the ritual. It had become something more than human, capable of containing the power of a god. In his mind, this was a simple transaction. He would take control of Harry's body, and in return, the mortal would be granted the honor of serving as his messenger.

But as the god's power surged into Harry's body, he encountered an unexpected resistance.

The dark god's gaze faltered. The force he had unleashed on Harry should have been overwhelming, an unstoppable flood of divine energy. Yet, there was something; some barrier, preventing him from fully claiming this body. At the most critical moment, when his consciousness had been ready to invade Harry's mind, something had resisted.

"Hmm?" The god's voice faltered, a note of confusion creeping in. He stared, unnerved. "You—" He paused, eyes narrowing, trying to understand what had just happened. "How is this possible?"

Harry remained frozen, his eyes glassy, but deep within him, something stirred. 'What is this?' The dark god's power should have consumed him completely, yet there was a force fighting back, something 'human'. How could a mortal, a mere speck of dust in comparison to his divine might, resist the influence of a god?

Harry, for a moment, seemed to break free of the god's grasp, his lips barely moving as he let out a long, measured sigh. "Although I expected this, it still makes me..." He trailed off, the faintest hint of a smile pulling at his lips. "It still makes me... sad, when it really happens."

The dark god's heart skipped a beat as he saw the expression on Harry's face, a faint smile of resignation. Harry's voice, soft yet unwavering, echoed in his mind. "This is the god whose name I don't know," he said, his tone almost wistful. "Let's say goodbye here."

The god's form flickered, a ripple of power running through the dark realm. He was momentarily taken aback, his eyes widening in realization. "Do you want to..." His voice trailed off, but his expression had shifted, a hint of worry creeping in as he began to understand what was happening.

Then, as if in defiance, the energy within Harry's body exploded.

A massive surge of life force, so powerful it seemed to tear the very fabric of existence, erupted from his chest. The force shot out like a volcanic blast, overwhelming everything in its path. The seed of life, planted deep within Harry's heart, detonated in an explosion of unimaginable energy.

"No!" The dark god howled, his voice filled with desperation. His hand reached out in vain, an attempt to stop the inevitable, but it was too late.

Under the god's watchful eyes, Harry's body; his vessel, shattered into a violent explosion of blood and bone. The sheer power of the life force that had been siphoned from the ritual now tore Harry's body apart. His flesh was consumed by the blast, torn to pieces in an instant.

The explosion reverberated through the altar, sending shockwaves of destruction in every direction. The very ground trembled, the air itself seemed to shudder, as if the world was recoiling from the eruption of power. The altar, the center of so much dark energy, was obliterated in a heartbeat.

Harry's body was gone, reduced to a pile of shattered remains, but the power didn't stop there. It surged outward, consuming the dark realm itself. The life energy, so potent and raw, spread like wildfire, burning through the very fabric of the god's prison.

The god stood frozen, watching the chaos unfold, his expression one of shock and impotent rage. The ritual had been shattered, his plans undone in the blink of an eye.

Without Harry's body to anchor his power, the dark god's influence began to wane. The force that had once sustained him started to slip away, drawn back into the vast emptiness of the dark realm.

His strength, once so certain, was being squeezed out, pushed back by a force far greater than he could have anticipated, something primal and ancient, something inherent in the very world itself.

The dark god roared in frustration, but his voice was drowned out by the sound of his own retreat. The world began to quiet, the echoes of his presence slowly fading away.

And then, silence.

Everything was still.

A heavy drowsiness washed over Harry, a blanket of fatigue pulling at his senses. His mind buzzed with an unsettling mixture of thoughts, like a chorus of faint voices rising from the depths of his consciousness. They were incoherent, distant, and yet, somehow, urgent, like a dream weaving itself into something more tangible.

And then, with a sharp shift, Harry's awareness snapped awake.

His eyes fluttered open, and the familiar dimness of the cave greeted him. He blinked a few times, as though shaking off the remnants of a deep slumber. His surroundings were exactly as he remembered them: the rough, stone walls of the cave, the faint flicker of sparks from the embers of the fire he'd lit earlier. The flame had long since died, but the warmth lingered in the air, comforting in its own quiet way.

Harry sat up from the simple bed of animal skins he had fashioned for himself. His mind was still groggy, the edges of reality seeming a little blurry. He rubbed his eyes, trying to clear away the remnants of his dream, if that's even what it had been. Was it a dream? Or had he…?

The memories came rushing back like a flood. The battle, the gods, the unimaginable power. It all felt so distant, yet it was still so vivid in his mind. The thought made him shiver.

"Is it really over?" he muttered to himself, his voice hoarse from the dreamlike haze.

As he stood, taking a moment to collect himself, the pieces fell into place. The cave, the embers, the familiar sense of safety, it all meant one thing. He was back in the 'Dawn World'. The place he'd called home for so long.

But there was a strange undercurrent to it all. Something was different. Something had 'changed'.

"That was... exhilarating," Harry murmured, his mind replaying the chaotic scenes of his last moments in the dark realm. His thoughts flickered back to the gods, the 'two' gods, locked in their fierce confrontation. The devastation they had wrought, the terrifying force of their power, the monumental struggle that had nearly torn him apart. Yet, it wasn't the gods that lingered in his thoughts. It was the 'power' the raw, untamable force he had briefly wielded.

His body had transformed into something monstrous; tall, powerful, a true giant among mortals. But more than the size, it had been the 'strength'. His muscles had thrummed with power, far beyond the limits of any Great Knight. He had felt 'invincible'.

If he could somehow bring that power back with him...

Harry let out a long sigh, his breath shaky as he steadied himself. "If only…"

But the power had exploded. Vanished. The cost of such power was far too great, and in the end, it had dissipated into nothingness, just as quickly as it had come.

He closed his eyes and exhaled, letting go of the regret. He had no time to dwell on what was lost. There was still something valuable he had gained. He reached into his mind, focusing on the sensation that had been lingering there since his return.

The 'Simulation Coin'.

Harry's mental focus sharpened, and in the vast expanse of his thoughts, the Coin shimmered. It lay quietly within his mind's eye, its presence almost soothing, like a beacon of gentle light. He could feel it, pulsing with energy, a serene glow that felt both familiar and… powerful.

That same Coin had protected him when the dark god tried to seize his body. Its strength had kept his consciousness intact, even as the dark god's power clawed at him. Without it, Harry wasn't sure he would've survived the encounter. But now, the Coin had something else to offer.

Harry could feel the energy stored within it, the energy of his clone, the fragment of power that had been drawn from the dark god's influence. It was a strange, foreign energy, a dark force that still clung to the Coin like a stain. But it was also potent. Incredibly potent.

Harry focused more intently, his mind reaching out toward the Coin. He had 'earned' that power, after all. It was his, in a sense. But there was a problem.

He didn't want it. Not like this. Not with the dark god's touch still lingering in its depths.

"Maybe not… not yet," Harry whispered to himself, making a decision. "I'll convert it. I'll 'transform' it."

The decision didn't come lightly. There was much to consider. When he had first participated in the ceremony, his strength had been weak, fragile. The power of the gods had been a desperate need. But now? Now, Harry was no longer that man. His strength had grown. His understanding of the world and his place in it had evolved. He didn't need the raw, untamed power of the dark god. Not at the cost of losing his humanity or worse, losing himself to the darkness.

More than that, the power of his clone, tied to the dark god's essence, carried too much risk. Harry had no desire to inherit that legacy. Too many traces of the dark god's influence remained, too many echoes of his malicious intent. If Harry accepted the power outright, who knew what it might do to him? What it might turn him into?

No. This time, he would 'transform' the energy. He would make it his own, 'purely his own'.

The purple coin in his mind glowed brighter in response to his will. Slowly, with the concentration of a lifetime, Harry began to reshape it, pulling the energy, twisting it, refining it. His will was like a sculptor's chisel, carving away at the raw power, stripping it of the dark god's remnants and forging something new.

It took time. Long moments of silence passed, and the world outside the cave seemed to hold its breath. The transformation was slow, but Harry could feel it, the power within the coin beginning to shift, taking on a new form, something less 'alien' and more 'his own'.

Finally, after what felt like an eternity, the Coin dimmed, its glow now soft and steady, a calm pulse of energy. Harry could feel it now, fully integrated into his being, and for the first time, he knew that he had control over it.

He opened his eyes, a sense of quiet triumph settling over him. The power was his, but more importantly, it was 'clean'. It was 'pure'. And it had been transformed into something that would strengthen him, not consume him.

Harry exhaled, his thoughts calm, and the weight of his decision settled in. He had stepped into something dangerous, but now, he was stronger than ever before. Stronger than he had been in his previous life. Stronger than the gods themselves, perhaps.

"Now," he said softly, almost to himself, "let's see how far I can go."