I Became The Pope, Now What? - Chapter 773: At The End Of Existence I: Solis

“Has arrogance finally consumed you? Do you not see who stands before you?”

Sylvester shook his head, forging a confident smile on his face. “I was confused and lost before. I was aimless and doubtful—no more.”

“And where does that confidence arise from?” Aveda asked amusedly.

“I never fight a losing battle.” Sylvester didn’t shout, yet his voice bellowed. His arms were raised wide. His hands started glowing with golden hue orbs. “And this fight—I can’t afford to lose.”

A flash of concern shrouded Aveda’s face. For the master of that reality, nothing remained hidden. “Brave or a buffoon—what you consumed of Ashraska was a fraction of his being. To covet more is denying reality.”

Sylvester didn’t show an ounce of doubt in himself. He continued to use the newfound buff in power. But Ashraska’s traces were still in him, and they were wreaking havoc.

What happens when a balloon is filled more than it can hold? What happens when something is pressed more than its tensile strength?

Sylvester felt it all. Although he had no physical body anymore, he still had a limit to what he could hold; to how far he could stretch his control.

But did it matter?

Not anymore.

“You are in pain,” Aveda spoke in ridicule. “When I haven’t done anything yet.”

lightsvεl m Sylvester remained quiet. It felt like explosions were taking over every inch of his being. Every particle that made him bloated and ruptured at the seams.

Trillions—Infinite explosions ruptured everything. Every particle, a sun in its own way—fusing, bursting, and fusing again to grow.

The flesh Sylvester had made on himself began showing shattering ripples throughout. Tiny missing chunks that grew bigger at each moment.

“If that is what you desire. Let me show you what Ashraska could not,” Aveda bellowed.

Sylvester persisted, his teeth gritted shut. His eyes flared with controlled rage. His humanity battled against the creeping insanity.

He never gave up. Every particle of his existence screamed at him to stop.

But he didn’t—Why? Why, even when the chances were so slim? When the cost of losing was beyond death, when Victory was nowhere in sight?

Why?

Maybe because some people, when they have been through a lot and have been pushed beyond the point of endurance, accept defeat and give up. Some, however—a minority of a minority, who were, for some incomprehensible reason unconquerable—nothing, neither pain, nor torture, nor death could make them give up.

Sylvester, perhaps, was a minority even among those unconquerable. For more than his will, he was driven by his desire for a dream—a little peaceful life somewhere remote—with loved ones, to live as a nameless man… In peace.

From day one, from his first battle, beyond becoming the Pope, beyond all the might and authority—there was a simple old man—tired… Very tired.

Very very tired.

“I honestly didn’t want this. Your little plan to get rid of your brother may have been an insignificant game for you, but for me, it was a source of great pain. Sir Dolorem, Pope Axel, Saint Sceptre—I am their hope, beholder of their will. Whatever happens next is what you brought onto yourself.”

Crack!

Soundless and yet physically tormenting, Sylvester’s body started ripping apart and growing in size. Invisible, wavy strings of energy started forming all around him, connecting to his body and being absorbed by him.

He groaned in pain and desperation to not lose his sanity. He had no mouth as a being made of pure energy, but he knew if he did, he’d be gritting his teeth bloody. But Ashraska’s legacy had to be his. It was the only way to even be able to stand against Aveda.

“Futile attempts.” Aveda showed his displeasure and waved his physical hand. His white wings suddenly changed shape, shredding into long strands and flew from his back like long chains and captured whatever was left of Sylvester’s humanoid body.

Wrapped around his head, his arms, his legs; They tried to stop the transformation Sylvester was going through. Stopping the energy transfer into his body, and restraining him physically. After all, unlike Aveda, Sylvester’s only life and consciousness resided in that body.

He had become an elevated being, but he was still a lowly mortal.

“Do not resist, Sylvester. You cannot win.” Aveda tried to stop him and contain his expansion of control. “You can be a God! The God of your world! You can have your peace, the life you desired.”

Sylvester didn’t respond no matter what. He couldn’t anymore, for all his focus rested in gaining as much leftover might of Ashraska as possible. To fight against the restraints that Aveda had shrouded him in.

His entire flesh that made him Sylvester had vanished away by then, leaving behind only a concentrated, deep, dark red humanoid figure that was also losing its shape. Like eruptions, a blazing, fiery red mass ejected out of his humanoid figure.

Easing out through the gaps between Aveda’s white chains—spreading in all directions as if they were countless ribbons of different sizes.

“Stop him, Solis,” Aveda said. “He will kill himself this way.”

Solis remained in place, being the only creature that didn’t have a physical body in that space. “Why stop when this is fate’s choice?”

“What do you mean? I am his fate.”

“There is a reason behind everything,” Solis added, his voice changing with a sense of purpose. “If you cannot control it, are you truly the end of fate’s strings?”

Aveda was at a loss for words, his cosmic mind unable to comprehend what Solis was saying. Yes, he couldn’t see the future or the past in that space since those things didn’t exist. But the rest he already knew. “I am the one who paved his path here.”

Solis’s voice started moving, edging closer to Sylvester’s raging, flickering form. The mass of his body grew larger, and other than his humanoid head and glowing eyes, the rest was just a chaos of dark red colored beams of energy, spreading in each direction like branches of a tree, torn sheets of red clothes fluttering everywhere chaotically.

“You paved the path of his rise.” Solis finally reached Sylvester, “But was it your choice?”

Absolute silence took over Aveda. Silently, he gazed at Sylvester’s constantly changing form. The mortal no longer resembled a human or a godly being—an abomination that made no sense.

So much of Ashraska’s energy was absorbed that it spilled out of Sylvester’s control. Bigger than planets, bigger than stars, Sylvester’s gigantic form continued to swell and turn into a spiraling, changing mesh of dark red fiery energy. The same ribbons from before now looked like the red flames of a sun, escaping everywhere with a mind of their own, latching onto more energy to consume.

However, as only the humanoid head with two shining eyes remained, a red halo started forming. Its own size increased with Sylvester’s size—shining, burning, searing hotter than anything nature could create.

“He has lost control,” Aveda murmured.

Solis came within the reach of one of the flames willingly. “For that, he shall be made aware.”

“You will let him consume you?!” For the first time, Aveda showed hesitation and moved away from Sylvester’s form.

“Everything happens for a reason,” Solis replied back, repeating his previous words again. “To oppose the fate of my own creation would be treason.”

Aveda realized there was something going on beyond his control. Something he missed to calculate.

“This is a crisis of your own making that you prepared.” Solis uttered his last audible words, “Aveda, be scared.”

Snap!

“No!” Aveda’s face turned left and right. The sensation of Solis occupying the realm around him was completely lost to him. Only Sylvester remained the second being there.

But right then, he noticed a change. Sylvester’s humanoid face showed a difference. His two eye sockets started to shine in a golden light instead of red. The halo behind his head, which could eclipsed anything in the mortal universe, glowed golden as well, the red slowly drowning away.

From the chaotic, fiery blaze, the mesh of Sylvester’s flaming body started to feel golden warm instead.

“I brought you here!”

“I elevated you from a mere mortal!”

Aveda’s words fell on empty space, however. Sylvester only grew bigger, consuming any ounce of energy that touched the edges of his threadlike flames.

What did Solis do? What did Sylvester do?

Aveda was as blind to Sylvester’s future in that space. And he needed answers.

…

Sylvester hoped not to lose control over his own mind. He tried to make sure every new addition to the cosmic energy in him was under his thumb. But when he reached the limit, he started to feel pain and loss of consciousness.

Before he knew it, he couldn’t stop or hold himself back anymore. It turned into a chain reaction that consumed him. That took away his sanity. Every part of him expanded, multiplied, ripped apart, and started burning.

He tried to keep his humanoid form intact, but that didn’t last long. At first, his legs splattered away like flesh and bones, and the energy that ruptured from it splashed around and formed strings of flames. Then, the rest of his torso followed and shattered.

He could only maintain his humanoid, faceless head intact. But even that took all his focus and might. The energy and power he was trying to control now began to surround him and suppress him.

Containing him from all sides to turn him into nothing but a mindless blob of dead cosmic energy.

♫From the mortal reality… to the end of existence,

H-how far I have journeyed, so much distance.♫

Sylvester only had control over his thoughts now, and he chose to do the only feat of magic that didn’t require his control. Staying true to his birth, he sang like a bard, but he didn’t praise the lord—he called him.

♫N-No matter what, I shall not end this resistance,

It is I or them—there can never be coexistence.♫

The halo formed like it always did. Larger and more violent than ever before, taking the color red instead of the usual white and golden. It burned in the space of nothingness, taking a toll on Sylvester’s leftover body.

As blood splattered, it was violent energy for him.

But he didn’t stop singing despite his mind on the brink of collapse.

♫Hear me, Solis! This is the last song of your bard,

I obeyed, I followed, I stand here dying and marred.♫

‘It worked!’ Sylvester felt something. The chain reaction didn’t end, nor did he find new control. But he could feel his unresponsive body had consumed something new—something that didn’t belong to Ashraska or Aveda.

♫In this race or superiority, my humanity I have discarded,

Solis! You must be my shield now when I stand unguarded!♫

Snap!

He felt something all of a sudden. A surge of warmth traced through the countless flaming ribbons and strings around him. It reached for him, as if traversing in the sea of his massive body.

It arrived at his halo, and took home there. Finally, Sylvester felt a newfound gentle warmth, his halo taking back its control away from insane rage—the crimson turned to golden.

“Solis?!” Sylvester cried out in thought, hoping to hear something. “W-What do I do? I can’t control this!”

There was silence, panic and frustration. The wait was too daunting.

“Do what you must—you are already aware.”

“Solis!” Sylvester felt a ray of hope. “What do you mean? I’m barely holding on to my sanity.”

“You can do it.”

“How? I don’t even know the plan!”

“You do,” Solis repeated, his voice fading slowly as the crimson halo gradually turned fully gold. “You made the plan.”

“What do you mean?” Sylvester interrogated in haste and distress.

But from Solis, only one final string of words came.

“Because you are me—I am you.”

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