Chapter 429: Atomic Wrath

3/3; read the 428 before this one.

Boom, a triple to finish the arc! Two to wrap last week, and one that I owed you from before. That clears the slate!

Three more chapters this week (I prefer not to give dates, since you know I struggle with that, but I'm doing my best. You're reading the work of four days and two all-nighters...)

*

The dawn of nuclear weapons had plunged humanity into a long, relative peace for one reason only: fear. Idiots, geniuses, and madmen alike knew their use would end with a vitrified planet. Only a sociopath would dare press the button, damning both his own soul and species. Yet that hadn’t stopped every pyromaniac from imagining the scene.

Priam was about to witness it firsthand. As a flash threatened to sear his retinas and his instincts screamed, he invoked a Merit.

[The Five Ages of Man] - fourth Merit - Sigurd blesses your flesh; once per week, you become invulnerable for one minute (CONST ×100, one weak point remains)

A tsunami of light struck the world with violence heralding Ragnarök. Matter howled; energy roared. Yet the cataclysm felt to Priam like no more than a shaft of sunlight. A quarter million in constitution was that potent. Perhaps too potent, as his cells were now so indifferent to the hellish heat and radiation that they would not mutate. This Merit was not a free card to grind its resistances.

[Sigurd’s flesh: 59.999s remaining.]

The Juggernaut had one minute to act before absorbing enough radiation to make Marie Curie jealous.

Priam clenched his left fist just as the second wave of the blast reached him: a tidal surge of heat erased his surroundings. The center of his palm boiled while the rest of the bunker vaporized. His aether surged back the instant the table beneath him ceased to exist. Before he could plummet into a lake of plasma, a shockwave seized him, hurling his body tenfold the speed of sound through solid ground. Priam cut through the earth as smoothly as a fish through water, or a bird through air.

As quickly as his flight began, it ended with Priam slamming hard into the dimensional barrier. The impact was so brutal that, even with a constitution brushing the high Tiers, the Juggernaut grunted. The nuclear fire infiltrating his throat and lungs burned like Mexican pepper.

Blinking through the inferno, his Pyro sight pierced the haze to find Léo standing behind the barrier. The Tier 4’s eyes blazed as Priam offered him a smile. Right now, you hate me. Soon, you shall fear me.

Promise made, the Juggernaut ignored the apocalypse raging around him and reached for one of his most arcane, least used skills.

[Space Resistance - Epic] - Space is the dimensional fabric in which matter and energy evolve; a part of the continuum that most lifeforms perceive.

Your body is forging its own dimensional identity…

The description was modest, but Priam was sure it hid the key to his escape. If he could align his dimensional identity with the barrier’s, could he not pass through it?

Of course, pulling that off with only an Epic Resistance was a reach, but Priam never played fair.

[The Five Ages of Man] - fourth Merit - Cú Chulainn blesses your talent; once per month, you may summon an epiphany at will.

The image of the Celtic hero embodying Knowledge overlapped Priam’s face. When he reopened his eyes, his thoughts were crystalline and sharp. His mind called for Micro, and the Supremacy answered, allowing him to control his physique with a finesse never seen before. Better yet, resistances fell squarely under its dominion.

Guided by the revelation, Priam adjusted the parameters of [Space Resistance] of his hand. Something shifted, though he couldn’t name what. Then the barrier’s solidity increased, and Priam realized he was turning the dial the wrong way.

The Juggernaut reversed the tuning, cycling through spatial frequencies in the opposite direction. Beneath his fingers, the barrier’s solidity softened from steel to gold, then from gold to rubber. When it yielded like water, his arm slipped through and Priam flashed Léo a triumphant grin.

Trapped between Oasis’s dome and the barrier he himself had raised, the tiger warrior bared his fangs. Too late. Priam released the epiphany, resetting his dimensional identity.

Two spaces overlapped. The Aelbe barrier clashed against the arm that violated it. The two entities opposed their solidity, and with a quarter million points in constitution, the Homo Elysian prevailed. The protection cracked, ready to shatter.

Priam drew in a vast breath of radioactive plasma and exhaled.

Thermonuclear Breath!

That was the straw that broke the camel’s back. The Aelbe barrier burst apart, unleashing Priam… and the atomic fury behind him.

Lvl Up: [Space Resistance] lvl 6…
CONST +9

CONST SEALED by user (addon)

[Log: Attribute Constitution sealed to prevent a 7th Tribulation]

Léo roared in the face of the advancing apocalypse.

Driven like a cannonball by atomic overpressure, Priam struck and tore through the Transcendent in a geyser of blood. A heartbeat later, the nuclear blast swallowed the interior of the dome in a sea of plasma.

*

Sna watched the conflict unfold, her restless fingers betraying her unease. Despite her Transcendent status, she had spent the past centuries honing her alchemy and curses from the safety of her tent. When the Tribulations grew too perilous, the shaman had accepted her limits, diverting her energy toward inter-clan politics.

Then, months ago, the necro event had upended everything she knew. The medicinal gardens on secret isles, the favors owed, the spies she had cultivated—all of it felt meaningless. Three clans had banded together to face the undead hordes; now, only two remained. Perhaps not for long.

When Ophis fell, Sna hid. Léo was too strong, and Griffe kept a watchful eye out so that nothing would befall him. Any vengeance was doomed from the start. Sna had even considered joining the Aelbes as an external elder, but Griffe’s presence dissuaded her. That old viper would have conspired to kill her sooner or later.

So Sna had watched her clan sink into oblivion, silent and still. She knew better than to prolong a dying breath. Moreover, with her blood running through a quarter of her clan; the deaths of her descendants had long since ceased to move her.

After the Snaherts, it was the turn of the two other factions. However, instead of surrendering, the Champions and Gaeserts had allied to strike back. Sna hadn’t joined them, certain their attempt was futile.

And yet, their defeat refused to come. Mama Apo held Griffe at bay while hoplites and Gaeserts ganged up on the feline hunters. With every passing hour, the Aelbes faltered further, and when Felix fell… Sna shivered at the memory of that lance of light crashing from the heavens. That attack could have ended her outright.

None of it mattered, though, while Léo still stood. The Transcendent was so powerful that, for the first time in a millennium, whispers spoke of a potential new Demiurge. With his Transcendence mastered, all that remained was for him to lay the foundations of his inner world to ascend once more. A feat beyond reach with local resources.

Still, and as expected, Léo had dominated the battle. Despite valiant efforts and weapons as strange as they were potent, the Champions and Braato had been battered from start to finish.

Even the Juggernaut, a paragon of vitality, had just been trapped in a literal inferno. If the heat didn’t kill him, the radiation surely would.

Just as she was about to turn her back and sell her services to the elves, Sna glimpsed a silhouette amidst the flames. Something tore through the spatial barrier, and Léo roared. A heartbeat later, he was swallowed by plasma.

The forcefield conjured by Tal Quercus split open at its peak, releasing the nuclear wrath skyward. At the same time, a figure was flung toward the ruins. It bore no feline traits, no grievous wounds…

Sna froze. That the Juggernaut had endured thirty seconds inside an atomic cataclysm was as unfathomable as the Seven themselves, yet the proof was before her.

The old shaman narrowed her eyes, reshaping her plans. The tide had turned. Priam was a pragmatic leader—or, at the very least, well advised—and his future blazed bright. In the skies above the Wandering Islands, he shone like a star, warming even the cold blood of the last Snahert shaman.

She turned toward the battle between Mama Apo and Griffe. The serpent might have found its place in the sun, yet she still had to earn it.

*

Blinking against the glare, Priam saw a pillar of light holding up the heavens. The protective dome of Oasis had proven sturdy, but not enough to contain the full fury of a nuclear blast. Log-a-rhythm or perhaps Dishnu had chosen to ruin the clouds rather than obliterate the tribal camp.

As for Priam, he had not been trapped within his own creation. The shock wave had nearly launched the Juggernaut into grazing orbit before a dozen buildings slowed his flight—or so claimed the splinters of wood he found in his boxers.

Inspecting himself, Priam was surprised to find his body mostly intact, save for a blackened patch in the center of his left palm; the balancing act of Sigurd’s Merit. Like Achilles and his heel, the Germanic hero had not been fully immersed, leaving a weakness on his back that proved fatal. Priam had chosen his palm, though he could shift it each instance. Handy for adapting to danger… but dangerous. If I’m right, even a weak bullet at that spot would end me. Hey, my skin melted while it was supposed to be protected.

Priam scratched the blackened mark and frowned when his vitality failed to restore it. The weakness of Sigurd did not vanish once the Merit ended. Fuck. I hope [He Who Eludes Death] handles that, otherwise I won’t use that Merit again. Unless I can choose the same weak point multiple times to keep the count low…

A System’s notification drew his attention.

Crown of the Juggernaut:
Minor Actions: 1/10
Major Actions: 2/3

Surviving the fury of the atom and repelling the Aelbes seemed fitting deeds for the Juggernaut. Incidentally, it confirmed Léo’s death. The joy, however, was fleeting. While the news was good, Priam knew he had been outclassed from start to finish. Every trump card he had been so proud of had bought him only seconds. In a fair duel, he would have lasted a few minutes at best, then died for good, without inflicting real harm. In truth, his offensive capability was lackluster.

“Prince or not, the gap between low and mid Tier is too damn wide,” Priam sighed.

When his self-pity ran dry, shame took over. His pride was the only thing wounded, while hundreds had died to bring Léo down. The very definition of a Pyrrhic victory.

In his mind, even victory felt like too generous a word. Priam didn’t feel like a winner, especially when he thought of what came next.

Part of him dreaded facing Kazuki again, but he mastered the cowardice and walked toward Log-a-rhythm. Surrounded by ruins and ash, the great tree rose amid desolation like a beacon of life in a storm. Behind it, the plasma beam had given way to an atomic mushroom cloud merging with the heavens.

When a fine rain began to fall, Priam groaned.

Lvl Up: [Radiation Resistance] lvl 13…
ERROR. CONST SEALED

“Let’s hope the undead can catch cancer,” he muttered, trudging onward. Despite the danger, he couldn’t bring himself to run. For the first time in a long while, Priam just wanted to sleep.

The trunk opened into an infirmary, where two bathtubs and a coffin lay. Osiris moved between patients, his face drawn with fatigue. He looked up when Priam entered.

“The ground stopped shaking. Is it over?”

“Léo’s dead.”

Braato exhaled in relief. The colossus sat submerged to his shoulders in a bath of sap.

“Good. I was afraid his barrier might’ve trapped you.”

Priam briefly explained how he had bypassed it. “Significantly altered my dimensional identity, plus shattered a spatial barrier. That’s got to count as two ideal prerequisites.”

“It should.”

Despite his wounds, the Gaesert seemed on the mend. Others weren’t so lucky.

“Kazuki still hasn’t woken up?”

“No,” Osiris sighed.

“Emotional shock?”

The biomancer wrung his fingers in anxiety. “Partly, maybe. But mainly, his soul is hurt. Or rather, his spiritual body.”

Priam frowned. “What do you mean?”

“Mastery IV… Léo’s claws cut deeper than flesh,” Braato said grimly.

“I tried healing his leg,” Osiris added, hesitating. “But his soul no longer recognizes his left knee or anything below it.” Seeing Priam’s confusion, he clarified: “There’s no meridian left—and if I recreate one, it withers. No stats. Meaning—”

“Meaning that if he moves too fast, his foot will explode,” Braato finished. “If he rides the wind, his leg will stay behind. His bloodline will reject his knee, and same for Micro. Kazuki’ll never fight at high intensity again.”

Priam clenched his fists. There had to be a solution.

“A prosthetic, maybe?”

Osiris shrugged. “Could help. Not my field.”

“What about Seth? Soul tinkering’s his thing. I’d owe him a favor.”

The boy hesitated. “I don’t think that’s wise. Even if he wanted to help, Kazuki’s soul is not diseased, it’s amputated.”

“I see.”

If the diagnosis held true, even [Iconoclast]’s third Merit wouldn’t help. Short of a miracle from the Seven, Kazuki was crippled.

Priam looked at his friend. Floating in the sap bath, the unconscious hoplite was grunting, seemingly trapped in a nightmare. The reality was sadder. He had lost his wife, part of his army, and a leg. Yet behind the mask of pain, Priam saw a will of iron.

I know they underestimate you. You’ll pull through. And if you need a shoulder for your first steps, I’ll be there.

After a gentle poke from Log-a-rhythm, Priam left the wounded to rest. A gap in the wood led him to the base of the trunk, where two shamans awaited.

“Prince Priam.”

“Lord Priam.”

He raised an eyebrow. Mama Apo had used his noble Title to emphasize his power. Expected, after today’s events.

By contrast, Sna’s Lord was political, referring to Oasis.

“Griffe?”

“Dead,” spat the Gaesert. “Braato?”

“Alive.”

“I want to see him.”

A portal opened in the trunk behind Priam, and the shaman hurried through it.

The remaining Transcendent studied Priam for a moment before bowing slightly. “If the position of Oasis shaman is vacant, may the Lord consider my application.”

Priam raised a second brow. “I can think of at least two assassination attempts you either ordered or condoned. Why would I hire you?”

Sna’s slit-pupiled eyes glimmered. “There’s an old saying: keep your friends close, and your enemies closer. Either way, it’s in your interest to accept.”

“The only question is which category you fall into.” Priam pondered a moment, then nodded. “Fine. You’re on probation.”

“On… probation?”

“Human thing. Better than intern, let me tell you,” Priam reassured her before glancing toward the molten crater that had replaced the Aelbe manor and its gardens. “Come on. We’ve got guests to welcome.”

His Shadow had returned, and she wasn’t alone.

*

Status: 

PHYSICAL:
Strength 1 263
Constitution 2 690 (+15)
Agility 1 665
Vitality 2 246
Perception 998 

MENTAL:
Vivacity (D) 667
Dexterity 988
Memory 1 231
Willpower 1 323
Charisma 1 126 

META:
Meta-affinity (O) 1 474
Meta-focus (P) 923
Meta-endurance 1 712
Meta-perception 945
Meta-chance 810
Meta-authority 1054 

Potential: 42 479 (+3)
Tier 0

[Tribulation]: Six Tribulations pending.

Next thresholds: 12 attributes > 1 200 / 3 attributes > 1 800 / 1 attribute > 2 700

*

Sna