Devour Vol 2 Ch 6: A Speck Stands Tall, The Quarrel Continues!

(Kaelen)

Kaelen knelt on the soft, pink terrain, his chest heaving as he gasped for breath. His sword dangled uselessly from his trembling hand, its blade chipped and dulled from the fury of strikes he had unleashed. Yet none of it had mattered. The towering woman before him stood unscathed, not a scratch on her silver armor, not a strand of her brown hair out of place. Even her skin, pristine and white, remained intact as if mocking his effort.

This was Zephora—the Devourer of Worlds, the harbinger of doom. And she was untouchable.

Kaelen's gaze dropped to the ground beneath him. The pink, smooth surface stretched endlessly, curving and rising into massive hills that towered over him like impossibly large walls of flesh. He knew what it was—he didn't need to be told. This was no battlefield. He was fighting on her body. This reality, as absurd and horrifying as it was, struck him again with crushing weight.

He was nothing to her. A mite. A speck.

Zephora's smaller avatar stepped forward, her presence impossibly commanding despite being scaled down to his size. She peered at him with a faint smirk, her blue eyes gleaming with amusement.

"Is this all you have to offer?" she asked, her voice calm but dripping with arrogance. "You've been given a chance—more than most mortals ever receive—and yet here you are, kneeling before me like a broken toy."

Kaelen clenched his teeth, his knuckles whitening around the hilt of his sword. He could feel his body screaming at him to stay down, to surrender and let the inevitable happen. Every muscle in his frame begged for rest, every fiber of his being demanded he give up.

But then, Zephora's smirk deepened.

"Go on," she said, stepping closer, her silver boots sinking slightly into the pink surface. "Get up. Fight me. Or don't. If you stay down, I'll make it simple—I'll devour your world. Every last soul on it, gone." Her words were playful, almost sing-song, but the threat in them was very real.

Kaelen gritted his teeth, anger igniting a spark deep within him. Slowly, shakily, he pressed one hand against the ground and pushed himself up. His legs felt like they would collapse at any moment, but he forced them to bear his weight.

Zephora's smile widened, a glimmer of approval flickering in her eyes. "Good," she purred. "Show me that little spark. Prove that this wasn't a waste of my time."

Kaelen raised his head, his vision blurry from exhaustion, and fixed his gaze on her. But not just her avatar. His focus drifted upward—far past the silver and white of the avatar standing before him, past the pink hills of her body that stretched like a surreal landscape.

There, looming above it all, were her true eyes. Blurry but massive, they peered down at him like celestial orbs, glowing faintly as they regarded him with detached amusement. The scale of her true form defied comprehension. Even the avatar standing before him, larger and more powerful than anything he'd ever faced, was nothing but an extension of her will.

It infuriated him.

Kaelen's chest tightened as his anger boiled over. He tightened his grip on his sword, his trembling subsiding as something else took its place. A hum of energy began to crackle around him, faint at first but growing stronger. Sparks of electricity danced along his arms, igniting the air with bursts of light.

Zephora tilted her head, intrigued. "Oh?" she murmured, crossing her arms as she watched. "So you do have a little fight left in you. Good. Show me."

Kaelen's legs steadied, his body straightening as the electricity surged around him, forming arcs of power that licked at the pink ground beneath his feet. His breathing steadied, his exhaustion replaced by raw determination. He raised his sword, the blade glowing faintly as it absorbed the energy coursing through him.

The avatar smirked wider, her expression one of pure delight. "That's it," she said, her tone almost teasing. "Let that anger consume you. Let it burn away your fear. Show me what you're capable of, little warrior."

Kaelen didn't answer. He couldn't waste his breath on words—not when his every ounce of energy needed to be focused on the battle ahead.

His gaze remained locked on hers, unwavering as the electricity around him intensified. Zephora's avatar tilted her head back and laughed, a rich, melodic sound that echoed across the surreal battlefield.

"Oh, this will be fun," she said, her voice carrying a dangerous edge of anticipation. "Come, Kaelen. Let's see if a speck like you can make someone like me tremble."

***

(Conrad)

Conrad stared into the endless blackness of space, his breath shallow as he tried to process what was happening. He wasn't sure if it was the cold vacuum of space or the sheer overwhelming scale of what he was seeing that made it so hard to breathe. Either way, he knew one thing: he shouldn't be here. Not in space, not perched on the hand of a massive, otherworldly woman whose smirk made his skin crawl.

He glanced back at her face, her enormous eyes locked onto him with an unsettling mixture of curiosity and mischief. The planet-sized visage filled the horizon, her playful expression seeming all the more sinister in the surreal light of the void. Her lips curved upward ever so slightly, and Conrad's stomach churned. Whatever she was thinking, he was sure it wasn't going to end well for him.

"Don't look at me like that," he muttered under his breath, knowing full well she couldn't hear him—or maybe she could. At this point, nothing would surprise him anymore.

He turned his attention away from her and back to the two titanic figures standing what felt like miles—maybe even light-years—away. Yet despite the vast distance, their forms were so impossibly massive that he could see them clearly. The golden-haired one, the same being who had appeared in his house like an avenging angel, now loomed over everything, her glowing eyes radiating a golden light that seemed to pierce through the void itself.

"How dare you come here?" her voice boomed, the sound reverberating through the infinite blackness. Conrad instinctively winced, his hands clamping over his ears. Even though he wasn't anywhere near her, her words felt like they could tear him apart if he got too close.

The golden-haired titan's gaze was locked on the crimson-haired woman, whose fiery aura blazed like a distant sun. She stood with an air of casual defiance, her body language screaming confidence, as though she had already won whatever battle this was.

"Did you forget that this is my territory?" the golden-haired devourer continued, her voice sharp with accusation.

Conrad couldn't help but glance back at the smirking woman whose hand he stood on. "Her territory?" he thought bitterly. "So what am I? Some kind of pet or toy for her amusement?"

The crimson-haired titan laughed, the sound low and mocking. It wasn't just laughter—it was a deliberate taunt, each note dripping with condescension.

"Your territory?" Crimson echoed, raising an eyebrow. "You've grown soft, little sister. Weak."

The golden devourer's glowing eyes flared brighter, but she said nothing.

Crimson took a step forward, her massive form shifting the very fabric of the void as though the universe itself had to accommodate her movements. "You haven't been eating, have you?" she asked, her voice almost teasing. "I can smell it on you. The hunger. The hesitation."

Conrad felt a chill run down his spine as he listened. Eating? He didn't want to know what they ate—or worse, who.

"You've forgotten what we are," Crimson continued, her tone hardening. "You've forgotten what we must do to survive."

Golden's fists clenched at her sides, the light around her flickering as her rage grew. "I haven't forgotten anything," she said, her voice quieter now but no less menacing.

"Then why are you starving?" Crimson pressed, her smirk widening. "Why do you let yourself weaken when you could have everything you need? Is it guilt? Or are you just afraid?"

For a moment, the void was silent, the golden-haired titan saying nothing in response.

Crimson's smirk twisted into something darker. "If you don't have the guts to do what needs to be done, I'll do it myself," she said, her voice brimming with finality.

Then Crimson spoke a word. A single, alien syllable that made no sense to Conrad's ears. It was a word unlike anything he'd ever heard, something primal and incomprehensible, yet powerful. The moment it left her lips, Conrad's head felt like it was splitting open. He clutched at his temples, groaning as the sound echoed in his mind like a terrible, unending scream.

"What the hell was that?" he muttered, trying to steady himself.

The golden-haired devourer's eyes narrowed, glowing with a ferocity that made the void itself seem to retreat. "Over my dead body," she growled.

Crimson's laughter filled the expanse, wild and triumphant. "As you wish, my dear little sister," she said, her crimson aura flaring like an inferno.

Before Conrad could even process what was happens , the black void erupted into chaos. Golden and Crimson surged toward each other, their titanic forms colliding with a force that sent shockwaves through the cosmos. Columns of light—one golden, the other crimson—shot out in all directions, illuminating the void in a kaleidoscope of destruction.

Conrad staggered, the ground beneath him shaking violently. He turned to look at the massive woman whose hand he stood on. She was still smirking, her massive eyes locked on the battle unfolding in the distance.

"Why... am I still here?" he asked aloud, his voice shaky.

She didn't answer, but her smirk deepened, and for a brief, horrifying moment, he felt like a bug trapped in a web, completely at the mercy of a predator who enjoyed watching him squirm.

As the titanic sisters clashed in the distance, Conrad couldn't help but wonder if he was witnessing the end of everything—or just the beginning of something far worse.