MIGHT AS WELL BE OP - Chapter 665
Chapter 665: Reminiscing
His form vanished once more from the chamber where Dale, Reynold, Seraphim, and Kingsley were gathered. In the next instant, he reappeared upon the ceiling of the Last Stand military aircraft as it tore through the void of outer space.
The aircraft’s advanced detection systems remained oblivious to his existence, for he was still shrouded beneath the veil of his Concealment ability.
Anthony lowered himself into a seated position atop the ceiling, legs folding neatly beneath him.
His gem-like blue eyes were fixed upon the endless expanse ahead, drinking in the vast beauty of the cosmos. Stars shimmered like scattered jewels upon black velvet, cosmic dust drifted in ethereal swirls, asteroids tumbled in their eternal orbits, and planets of countless sizes drifted majestically.
He beheld nebulae blazing with radiant colors, suns burning with immeasurable brilliance, moons circling their guardians, and sprawling solar systems that spun like intricate celestial machines.
He thought about the countless lives dwelling peacefully upon those distant worlds, blissfully unaware of the horrors lurking beyond the veil of their fragile existence. The faint ripple of cosmic wind brushed against his face, setting his long white hair dancing weightlessly in the void as the aircraft surged forward at impossible speed.
‘I wonder how Mum and Dad are,’ Anthony thought silently.
‘I should probably spend more time with them,’ his thoughts continued as his gaze remained locked on the horizon of endless stars.
The last time he had truly admired the splendor of outer space had been during his journey to the Starborn Tournament. It was there, while stepping into the expanse of space for the first time, that he had forged the Mirror Dimension, a creation born from talent and revelation.
Anthony’s mind wandered back to the Omni Peak Academy, to the calamities that had struck its halls. The Demons and the Forsaken Cult had attacked not once but twice, their relentless assaults leaving devastation in their wake. His thoughts lingered on the memory of the countless students who had perished.
Children. Young men and women. They had come with hope, to better their lives, to seek knowledge, resources, power, or simply connection. But, all their dreams had been extinguished mercilessly by demonic hands.
‘Could I have saved them all back then?’ Anthony questioned himself, though his heart remained tranquil, his mind serene.
Even as he asked, he felt no regret and no pity. To him, fate had simply run its course.
‘At least their parents may find closure now, since the Forsaken Cult has been wiped out, perhaps there is some solace left for them,’ he thought, remembering the storm of grief and fury that had descended upon the Academy.
The parents of the slain students had raged, demanding justice, and the Academy had suffered immense backlash under the weight of their despair.
His thoughts shifted again, this time toward his friends at the Omni Peak Academy.
‘I wonder how the others are doing now,’ he pondered.
Bryan, the Dragon. Terpes, the prideful and stubborn vampire. The Storm Titan twins, Bringer and Rider. They had once walked the same path, side by side.
But in just four years, Anthony had pulled so far ahead that the gap between them had grown into an abyss they could never hope to bridge, even given millennia.
Another memory surfaced, softer and gentler. He recalled the orphanage he had once visited during his time at the Academy. The children he had played with, their innocent laughter still echoing faintly in his mind. He remembered Ava, the orphanage manager and owner, to whom he had entrusted resources to sustain both her and the children for years to come.
‘I wonder how she and the kids are doing? What classes did they awaken during their awakening?’ he thought.
A sigh escaped him, though a faint smile followed. He gave his head a slight shake. ‘It’s been long since I overthought like this,’ he whispered inwardly.
But make no mistake: his reflections upon life and meaning did not signify hesitation.
Anthony was not suddenly a monk who advocated peace, nor had he become a pacifist. Should anyone stand in his path, he would cut them down without blinking, without flinching, without hesitation.
Just as he had once slaughtered millions of the Second Supreme Monarch’s descendants, reducing their homeworld to nothing but dust, he would do so again if crossed.
That part of him had not changed, nor would it ever.
Cross him, and you would fall to his katana. That was immutable.
Rising to his feet, he cast one last glance toward the star-strewn void. Then, in a blur of distortion, he vanished from the ceiling of the Last Stand, his form rematerializing within his private chambers.
“You’re back,” Vega’s voice sounded softly the moment he appeared. She had sensed the subtle ripple in space, something no one else aboard this vast aircraft could have perceived.
Anthony, hearing her voice, canceled his Concealment. His form shimmered into visibility, his presence returning to the room.
Vega smiled, prepared to tease him about running off after she had questioned him earlier regarding his words to the Demoness Lilithra.
But the words froze upon her lips. Her purple eyes, attuned to subtle shifts of emotion, caught something different in him, an echo of change.
“What happened?” she asked gently, rising from the bed where she had been reclining. Her steps were slow, deliberate, almost reverent as she approached him. She reached out, her delicate fingers entwining with his hand, and raised her gaze to meet the gem blue of his eyes.
Anthony smiled faintly, offering no explanation in words. Instead, he guided her to sit with him upon the bed. With a snap of his fingers, illusion bled into reality. The air shimmered, bending, and before them unfolded a woven tapestry of memory.
He showed her everything. From the instant he infiltrated the Forsaken Cult’s stronghold, to the horrors he had witnessed, to the desperate souls he had saved.
Vega remained silent, her eyes fixed on the illusion. Unlike Anthony, she did not feel the torment, the madness, or the despair that he had endured. For her, it was no more than a projection, a movie of horrors without the raw weight of emotion.
But even so, her expression hardened. Her eyes narrowed as she watched scenes of unspeakable torment, a child of only nine enduring nightmares that no heart should ever bear.
When it ended, Anthony explained softly how he had altered their memories, stripping away the pain so that they would survive and heal.
Vega listened, then nodded. Her voice was steady, composed, when she finally spoke: “It was for the best. I would have done the same.”
But Anthony, attuned to her as few others were, sensed the edge beneath her words. He knew her well enough to recognize the truth: beneath her composure, Vega was seething. She was furious, not at him, but at the cruelty of the world, at the injustice that had forced innocent children to bear such horror.
Why aren’t y’all reading it….༎ຶ‿༎ຶ༎ຶ‿༎ຶ