MIGHT AS WELL BE OP - Chapter 837
837: Ten Winged Angel 837: Ten Winged Angel “So, what’s the next course of action?” a woman from the Older Generation asked, her gaze fixed steadily on the Overseer, her expression calm, almost unreadable, as though she were weighing his every word before it even left his lips.
“Indeed,” another intoned, her voice icy and deliberate, “I trust this meeting is to deliberate on solutions, and, if possible, to uncover a method to step into the Divinora Galaxy and end this conflict once and for all.” The Overseer let out a long, measured sigh, the sound resonating with both weariness and weighty contemplation.
“Although we don’t know their exact numbers, nor every facet of their forces,” he began, his tone steady, “what we do know is that we are not contending solely with the Angels.
As I mentioned before, other races dwell within the Divinora Galaxy.
Do not assume they are the only threat poised to invade us.” A woman from the Older Generation spoke, her voice firm yet precise, carrying the clarity of experience: “In simpler terms, since we cannot claim knowledge of every race within our own Galaxy, it is entirely possible that one or two of the Divinora races might disguise themselves as native inhabitants during the course of a full scale invasion.” The Overseer nodded slowly, a faint, almost imperceptible smile gracing his face, as though he found some amusement in this revelation, or perhaps a quiet appreciation for the complexity of the situation.
Riven, ever blunt, stated flatly, without the slightest shift in expression, “Then the solution is simple: any new race that suddenly emerges or rises to prominence during this war shall be annihilated.” No one in the room reacted.
No one flinched.
No one scoffed.
His words were logical, coldly so, yet undeniably practical.
Did anyone truly care about some unknown race?
Certainly not.
Did they care about the survival of the Galaxy as a whole?
Absolutely.
And if eradicating an unknown race improved their chances of survival, then it was not a question of morality, it was necessity.
There were no saints present here, no idealists proclaiming justice or fairness.
Reality, in its unadulterated and unforgiving form, reigned supreme.
Simple.
Direct.
Brutally pragmatic.
It was simply impossible to know every race within the Galaxy.
Perhaps, in some distant future, if they ever achieved Galactical unification, that knowledge could be attained.
Until then, any sudden emergence of an unknown or unrecorded race would result in immediate extinction.
“Do we know when they intend to launch the full force of their assault?” someone asked cautiously, the tension in the air palpable.
The Overseer shook his head, a shadow crossing his features.
“We do not know.
Prior to this meeting, we were aware only that they were gathering intelligence.
Some of them departed after collecting information, returning later to relay it.
Furthermore,” he paused, his voice carrying the weight of revelation, “the Angel race ranks its members according to their wings, with pairs ranging from one to twelve.
Those bearing ten pairs have reached Planetary level, and twelve pairs signify even greater combat prowess, still Planetary, but with exponentially higher potential and power.” As the Overseer’s words settled, the eyes of the assembly shifted toward the projection before them.
One member muttered under his breath, “So, in other words, this particular Angel is little more than cannon fodder.” “Indeed,” the Overseer replied, a faint smile tugging at the corners of his lips.
“However, we have observed a Ten Winged Angel.” The room erupted with murmurs, disbelief flashing across multiple faces.
“A Planetary level Angel has already entered our Galaxy?” one voice asked, incredulous.
“Since when?” another demanded.
“How many are there?” “Were we able to capture this Ten-Winged Angel?” Questions came fast and sharp, fired in all directions.
If a Planetary level Angel had already infiltrated their Galaxy, how many others could be lurking unseen?
Was the hierarchical tier system still relevant?
Could it offer any protection now?
“We were unaware of their presence,” the Overseer explained, directing the attention toward Aaaninja Chronisynth Eternos, who remained seated, eyes closed in serene composure.
“It was Aaaninja Chronisynth Eternos who confronted this Angel and gathered this information firsthand.” The room grew tense, eyes narrowing as they shifted toward Aaaninja.
“Do you understand what you are saying, Voidwalker?” a member of the Bone race asked, his voice heavy with disbelief.
The Overseer smiled, his demeanor calm yet commanding.
“Yes.
Aaaninja Chronisynth Eternos has achieved Planetary level Existence at scarcely three hundred years of age.” A silence followed, thunderous in its impact.
To anyone present, such a feat was virtually inconceivable.
Traditionally, those who reached this echelon of power were no younger than a millennium.
Yet here, a being of merely 349 years stood, for all intents and purposes, on equal footing with the seasoned veterans around him.
Slowly, Aaaninja’s eyes opened.
The space seemed to pause, time itself bending around the emergence of his Eyes Of Genesis.
Rainbow-colored and clock-like, they radiated a subtle, almost ineffable sense of authority, of cosmic awareness.
For a moment, the room was suspended in awe, caught in the silent gravity of his presence.
Then, almost casually, he closed them.
He offered neither denial nor confirmation of the Overseer’s claim.
There was simply no need to prove anything to anyone.
The Older Generation was visibly shaken.
Only moments ago, many had dismissed Aaaninja as a mere child, perhaps talented, yet ultimately still weak.
Now they were faced with the undeniable reality: this child had already bested a Ten-Winged Angel.
Though no one fully understood the extent of an Angel’s might, let alone one with ten wings, the fact alone that Aaaninja had attained Planetary level status was staggering.
“It seems the Celestial race has birthed an extraordinary prodigy,” a man from the Cryonid race admitted, his voice tinged with awe.
Immediately, the atmosphere shifted.
Praise flowed toward Zachary and his wife, congratulatory words mixing with astonished whispers.
With each realization, the assembly deepened their understanding of this Time-based Celestial.
Yet despite their congratulations, few truly believed Aaaninja was genuinely on par with them.
And they were correct.
He was not merely on par.
He was stronger, far stronger than they could even perceive.
Would Aaaninja himself clarify this truth?
No, there was no necessity, no benefit in doing so.
As for Aaaninja’s parents, they simply basked in the radiance of their child’s accomplishment.
Who, after all, would not be proud of the brilliance and sheer magnitude of one’s own offspring?
Their pride was quiet yet unwavering, a reflection of both love and reverence for what their child had become, and what he would inevitably surpass in the years to come.
_______ AUTHOR’S NOTE: I released three chapters today, and another three tomorrow.
Check out the third one.