Chapter 51
The ghost town of Silent Hill lay shrouded in a thick, unnatural fog, its streets devoid of life yet teeming with a presence unseen. Centurion, clad in his red and gold armor, stepped forward, his boots pressing deep into the cracked pavement. The air was thick with spiritual energy, an oppressive force that gnawed at the edges of reality itself.
His eyes narrowed as he surveyed the desolate town. He already knew what awaited him—Alessa, the dark heart of Silent Hill.
"Come out, Alessa, or I might have to destroy this place," Valkus muttered, his voice carrying through the silence like a judge passing sentence.
His intention was not negotiation. He was not here to persuade—he was here to dominate.
And yet, she did not run.
The ash-filled sky churned, thickening as the world around him began to distort. Silent Hill's reality peeled away like flesh from bone, revealing a realm beneath—a twisted nightmare realm, where the very walls of existence pulsed with something alive, malignant, and ancient.
Then, she appeared.
A small, pale-skinned girl with long black hair, clad in a deep purple dress, her expression unreadable, cold, almost disinterested.
Dark Alessa.
The very embodiment of suffering, pain, and vengeance.
Valkus grinned, stepping forward, his spiritual aura flaring outward like an inferno, pressing down upon her small form with suffocating weight.
"Good," he said, eyes glinting with amusement. "Now come along, little lady, before I get violent."
He reached for her, moving with inhuman speed, his fingers stretching toward her fragile frame.
But before he could touch her, she vanished, dissolving into the fog like a whisper in the wind.
The air grew thick with malice.
A sound tore through the silence—the heavy scrape of steel against concrete.
Valkus barely had time to react before a massive cleaver swung down at him, forcing him to twist aside at the last moment. The blade crashed into the road, sending cracks splintering in all directions.
Pyramid Head.
A monstrous figure, equal to him in size and strength, wearing a massive triangular metal helmet that concealed its face. It did not speak. It never spoke. It was the faceless guardian, Alessa's unyielding enforcer—a manifestation of punishment and execution.
Valkus chuckled darkly. "Tch. A bodyguard? Expected."
But he was not alone.
Two other figures emerged from the shifting darkness, their towering forms dragging themselves into the nightmare realm.
Valkus's smirk faltered.
Because these were not Alessa's creations.
These were his.
His own fears.
The first figure was massive, nearly Pyramid Head's equal, but where Pyramid Head was clad in metal and rust, this one wore dark leather over white garments, his face obscured by a cloth bag pierced with spikes.
In his hands, he held a massive battle axe, so large it could double as a war hammer. A thick, rusted chain dangled from its end, dragging along the ground with an ominous clink.
This was the Executioner, a manifestation of Valkus's childhood trauma—his fear of being judged, of being sentenced, of having his power stripped from him and his fate sealed by another's hand.
The sight of it made his muscles tense, his mind recoil.
But the second figure was far worse.
It loomed two stories tall, its tentacle-covered lower half writhing, as if searching for something to consume. Its skin was dark, its long, clawed fingers twisted unnaturally, and upon its featureless white mask sat deep, abyssal eyes that swallowed all light.
A golden medallion rested on its chest, and atop its head floated a crown of gold, shimmering with an otherworldly glow.
The Yellow Emperor.
A being that represented the one thing Valkus feared above all else—subjugation.
To be ruled.
To be controlled.
To have his will stripped away, his choices reduced to nothing.
The tentacles lashed toward him, an instinctive attempt to ensnare him, to drag him into the depths of submission and despair.
For the first time in a long, long time…
Valkus felt a chill crawl up his spine.
The nightmare realm had turned against him.
Alessa had drawn out his deepest fears and manifested them before him.
His lips curled into a sneer, his hands clenched into fists, his power surged outward in defiance.
"This is a joke," he snarled. "You think these illusions will break me?"
But Alessa did not respond.
She merely stood at the edge of the shifting fog, watching.
Silent.
Waiting.
Because this was not just a battle of strength.
This was a battle of the mind.
And Silent Hill was her domain.
Valkus had always believed himself immune to fear—an unbreakable force of dominance and brutality. But as his heart pounded inside his armored chest, he realized something deeply unsettling.
He was afraid.
The presence of the two figures had awakened something buried deep in his past, memories he had suppressed for decades. His mind reeled as flashes of his childhood, executions, and subjugation flooded his vision.
"Fucking whore!" Valkus roared, his fury overcoming his hesitation.
With a single gesture, the ghostly army of his fallen warriors and enslaved spirits materialized, their spectral forms rising from the streets of Silent Hill. Thousands of soldiers on horseback charged forward, their weapons raised against the monstrous nightmares that had emerged to torment their master.
Despite the chaos, Valkus kept his focus. He needed to eliminate the source—Dark Alessa.
His glowing red eyes locked onto Sadako and Kayako, the two cursed ghost women now bound to his will by spiritual collars that shimmered with a sickly golden glow.
"Find the maggot, NOW!" he barked.
Sadako, with her control over space and digital pathways, vanished into the town's televisions, attempting to track Alessa's presence. Meanwhile, Kayako, with her ability to mark and pursue souls, prepared to lock onto Alessa's spiritual essence.
For a brief moment, Valkus smirked.
It would only be a matter of time—
But then, something unexpected happened.
A pulse of black energy erupted from one of the town's broken television screens, and in an instant, Sadako was dragged back in, screaming, and sealed into the digital abyss.
Dark Alessa had confined her, turning her powers against her.
Kayako took a step forward, ready to act—
"STOP!" Valkus roared, abandoning the search for Alessa.
With Sadako lost, Kayako would be wasted on the hunt. She was better used elsewhere.
"Help me deal with this ABOMINATION!" he ordered, eyes flicking toward the towering Yellow Emperor.
Across the battlefield, the battle between nightmares and warriors raged.
Angon, a towering, 5-meter tall monstrosity of living blood, contorted and lashed out, its limbs twisting and reshaping into bladed whips and tendrilsas it engaged Pyramid Head in brutal combat.Angelica, the gravity-manipulating terrorwho once fought against the Teen Titans, unleashed waves of disruption, distorting the very laws of motion around the Executioner.Ace Masterson, the Human Dynamo, crackled with electromagnetic energy, sending bolts of lightning arcing through the fogas he fought alongside Angelica.
Yet, all their battles paled in comparison to the true nightmare towering above them all.
The Yellow Emperor.
Valkus dodged another whipping tentacle, his teeth clenched.
It wasn't just a physical opponent—it was a psychological horror, burrowing deep into his mind.
The Yellow Emperor represented everything he despised.
The feeling of being beneath someone.The power of a force beyond his control.The suffocating grip of absolute dominance.
As the tentacles coiled through the battlefield, several of his warriors fell, their bodies wrapped in writhing appendages before being twisted into darkness, their minds shattered in an instant.
Valkus could feel it.
It was smiling at him.
Mocking him.
"VANISH!" Valkus roared, his rage overtaking his fear as he unleashed a beam of pure light, his energy surging like a burning sun.
His power, derived from the same source as Moon Maiden, allowed him to manipulate light, focusing it into a devastating lance of destruction.
The blinding beam cut through the fog, illuminating Silent Hill—
But the Yellow Emperor did not flinch.
It simply raised one massive, clawed hand, and from the depths of its robe, a pulse of black energy rippled outward.
A dark barrier materialized, swallowing Valkus's attack without effort.
As the battle raged on, the others launched their attacks in an attempt to turn the tide.
Abin Sur, though weakened without a real Power Ring, still wielded what remained of his Lantern abilities. Summoning a massive construct in the shape of a beam cannon, he fired a concentrated blast of emerald energy, aiming straight at the Yellow Emperor's grotesque form.
Zatara, the legendary magician and father of Zatanna, spoke incantations in reverse, his voice echoing with supernatural authority. Fireballs burst forth from his hands, searing through the thick fog of Silent Hill, while ethereal chains erupted from the air, seeking to bind the monstrous being.
Meanwhile, Kayako acted with unholy precision. Her spectral form vanished from sight, only to materialize inside the Yellow Emperor's robes, bypassing the battlefield entirely. She extended her cursed hands, attempting to drag him into her dark realm, where countless souls had been consumed before.
Yet, all their efforts proved futile.
The Yellow Emperor was no ordinary nightmare—it was an entity born from Valkus's deepest, most primal fear. Worse still, it was feeding on his terror, its strength bolstered by the unholy power of Dark Alessa, who watched the battle with growing satisfaction.
She had made her decision.
She would keep the Yellow Emperor.
A slow, sinister smile spread across the creature's twisted face. With eerie calm, it raised its massive hand, effortlessly blocking Sur's energy blast as if swatting away an insect.
Its tentacles surged outward, slicing through Zatara's flames as if they were nothing but smoke. The magician barely had time to react before several barbed appendages pierced through his chest, lifting him off the ground. Blood dripped from his lips as his life force was siphoned away, leaving only a hollowed husk that fell lifelessly to the cracked pavement.
Kayako, still within its robes, locked eyes with the entity.
For most beings, a direct gaze from Kayako meant certain death. As the embodiment of hatred and vengeance, she carried the curse of the murdered, a relentless hunger for souls that had accumulated over the years.
Any ordinary creature staring into her dead, soulless eyes would suffer instantaneous cardiac arrest, their soul devoured before they could even scream.
But the Yellow Emperor did not falter.
Instead, it grinned.
From its mouth, a surge of tentacles erupted, wrapping tightly around Kayako's spectral form, attempting to drag her inward.
A battle of predators began.
Kayako fought back, her form twisting and writhing, seeking to consume the nightmare before it could consume her. But the Yellow Emperor was stronger, and the struggle tipped in its favor as more writhing appendages emerged from the darkness.
Valkus, hovering above the battlefield, clenched his fists. His frustration boiled over as he watched his forces fail to make even a dent in the horror before him.
His mind raced, but his fear clouded his thoughts.
He needed clarity. He needed strength.
Taking a deep breath, he closed his eyes and called forth his fallen army.
"Converge, my loyal slaves. Let us become one."
At his command, the spirits of his devoted soldiers surged toward him, their glowing forms merging into his body. Their essence fused with his, stabilizing his mind and granting him clarity amidst the terror.
His body became encased in ethereal armor, shimmering with the spectral glow of thousands of souls. A long lance appeared in his grip, its tip glowing with concentrated energy, while a towering shield manifested on his arm. Beneath him, an ethereal warhorse took form, its fiery mane blazing in the darkness.
With his power magnified, Valkus charged forward, slicing through the tentacles binding Kayako, saving her from being consumed.
With his newfound clarity, he directed the remaining spirits to engage the lesser nightmares, leaving him alone against the Yellow Emperor.
The Final Stand
With a single command, spectral chains erupted from both the ground and the air, seeking to bind the Yellow Emperor in place.
Dark Alessa, watching from above, smirked.
"Finish him."
The Yellow Emperor raised its arm, and from the void, a blackened sword materialized in its grip.
Valkus didn't hesitate.
He focused all his power into his lance, its tip blazing with unrelenting energy, and hurled it forward. It was an attack meant to pierce through anything, an attack designed to erase obstacles from existence.
But the moment it reached the Yellow Emperor's blade, a single slash rendered the lance nonexistent.
The weapon vanished, erased from reality itself.
Valkus's eyes widened in horror.
Before he could react, chains coiled around his legs, yanking him downward.
His head snapped toward the source—Pyramid Head.
The monstrous executioner had devoured the other Nightmare, absorbing its essence and power. Now, standing tall with its colossal blade, it loomed over Valkus like a immortal of death.
The blade swung downward, and Valkus barely managed to raise his shield in time.
The impact was cataclysmic.
The sheer force sent Valkus crashing into the ground, the street shattering upon impact, a massive crater forming beneath him.
The battle had reduced Silent Hill to ruin, but the town itself did not care.
As Valkus struggled to rise, his gaze flickered between the two approaching nightmares.
He was outmatched. He was losing.
With a furious roar, he tore through the Nightmare Realm, forcing his escape from Silent Hill.
Dark Alessa raised a hand, ready to strike him down—
But at that moment, Alessa herself faltered, exhaustion setting in.
She let him go.
Valkus stumbled back into the real world, his body shaking as he looked down upon Silent Hill from the skies. A violent shiver ran down his spine, the cold grip of fear still lingering within him.
He clenched his fists.
He would never forget this.
He hated Alessa.
He hated The Light for betraying him.
They had sent him in blind, withholding the true extent of Alessa's power.
"You worms will pay for this sacrilege," he swore, his voice venomous with rage.
But as Valkus retreated to recover, deep within the shadows, The Light watched.
They had never intended to ally with him.
He had simply been a test subject—a pawn to gauge the strength of Ai Enma and Alessa.
Valkus was too treacherous to be trusted. His history of betrayal and backstabbing made him an unreliable asset. The Light had no place for him.
Their goal was simple—
To evaluate Alessa.
To decide if she could be convinced to join them.
Because if she couldn't…
She would have to die.