conviction (chapter 172)

Chapter 172

The fabric of existence twisted and tore as Grey and Merlin clashed once more, their wills rewriting the laws of reality with each blow. Grey's palm struck forward, and from it, chains of unbound possibility erupted. Each link was a paradox — existing and never existing — lashing through the void with a relentless hunger. The chains slithered through dimensions, seeking Merlin like starving serpents. Merlin responded with a thought, his voice echoing through creation itself. "No." The word rippled with absolute authority, forcing reality to obey. The chains unraveled, their existence denied before they could reach him. But Grey seized that denial, plucking it from the air and twisting it into a spear of inverted certainty — a weapon that erased all certainty in its path. With a single motion, he hurled it at Merlin, the concept of cause and effect fracturing with its passage.

Merlin's form flickered, splitting into countless iterations of himself, each one occupying a different timeline. They moved in perfect synchrony, their collective knowledge converging as they spoke in unison. With a gesture, the timelines collapsed, and the echoes of a million past choices merged into a singular moment. The force of infinite decisions crashed into Grey like an unstoppable tide, threatening to bind him to an inevitable fate. But Grey laughed, his voice reverberating through existence. He reached into the storm of collapsing timelines, and with a wrenching pull, he tore free the concept of inevitability itself. The shattered remnants of fates never realized spun around him like a cloak, rendering him immune to any preordained end. He surged forward, his hand igniting with chaotic radiance that pulsed with the essence of change.

Merlin countered, his body warping into a vessel of primordial knowledge. The cosmos trembled as he summoned forth a river of forgotten truths, its waters flowing backward through time. Stars flickered and died, only to be reborn in reverse. The river twisted and coiled, each droplet holding the memory of entire civilizations. With a single command, Merlin unleashed the torrent upon Grey. It roared through the void, threatening to drown him in the collective weight of all that had ever been. Grey raised his arms, his presence expanding as the chaos within him devoured the river's truths. The memories shattered, their meaning reduced to ash. But the strain gnawed at Grey's very soul. Blood seeped from the cracks along his body, dark and shimmering with the remnants of annihilated concepts.

Through the pain, Grey's power burned brighter. He extended his hand, and from his fingertips erupted a spiral of impossible colors — hues that defied mortal comprehension. The spiral expanded, warping the fabric of existence as it fed upon its surroundings. Concepts bent and shattered. The idea of direction, space, even the certainty of existence itself unraveled in its wake. Merlin gritted his teeth, his ancient form trembling beneath the onslaught. Yet his defiance did not falter. He grasped the remnants of destroyed realities, weaving them together into a lattice of celestial light. With a roar, he brought the lattice down upon Grey. The clash birthed a nova of fractured dimensions, consuming entire planes of existence. Both beings reeled, their bodies ravaged, the weight of their power leaving cracks upon their very souls.

But it was Grey who stood first, his gaze unwavering even as his body bled and his essence flickered. Merlin stumbled, the light within him dimming. The ancient sorcerer's chest heaved, the wounds that marred his form bleeding streams of golden energy. Grey stepped forward, his form burning with chaotic brilliance. With a final whisper of resolve, he reached out — not with hatred, but with the inevitability of change. His hand grasped Merlin's chest, and in that moment, the concept of permanence shattered. Merlin's eyes widened.

Merlin's broken body twisted, fragments of his essence dripping into the nothingness. Yet even in the face of oblivion, his cracked lips curled into a grin. His laughter echoed through the ruins of shattered dimensions, a hollow and taunting sound. "Look at you," Merlin rasped, his voice laced with bitter amusement. "The god of change… yet chained to the past." Grey remained silent, his crimson hair drifting in the void, eyes lifeless. Merlin's grin widened. "Your wife. Your child. You thought power would bring them back. But even as you tore through fate, you failed." He coughed, his body trembling, yet the malice in his gaze burned on. "I made sure of that. They cannot exist in this timeline. Not now. Not ever."

Grey's body remained motionless, his face an empty shell. The words struck deeper than any wound. He had known — no, he had felt it. Even as he consumed the domains of others, as his power soared beyond the limits of gods, the absence remained. No matter how many realms he shattered, no matter how violently he clawed at the fabric of existence, they did not return. And they never would. His eyes dulled further, the glow of his once-boundless resolve extinguished. Merlin's laughter twisted with venom. "Did you think divinity would rewrite what I erased? Fool." The dying sorcerer spat blood, his body crumbling further. "You are no god. You're a pathetic man dressed in stolen power."

The vast emptiness trembled as Grey drifted, his will no longer reshaping the space around him. He simply existed, the vast power within him forgotten. Merlin's voice cracked, his breaths ragged, yet the hatred within him gave him strength. "And what now? After I fall, will you finally face your truth? No wife to hold. No child to cherish. Only Goldie's leash around your neck." His grin returned, mocking. "A servant of a god that plays with you like a pawn. Off to fight another war. One you cannot win. Just like this one." Merlin's eyes gleamed with satisfaction, watching Grey's expression remain hollow. "You are nothing but a weapon without purpose. And when they discard you, you'll know the true weight of your failure."

For a moment, there was only silence. Merlin's body flickered, the last embers of his existence dwindling. Yet even as his form unraveled, the laughter returned. It bubbled from him, thick with malice and triumph. "You have everything. And yet, you have lost the only things that ever mattered. That is your victory, Grey. The god of change, powerless to change what he truly desires." The void itself quivered as the last fragments of Merlin dissolved. His laughter lingered, seeping into the remnants of twisted space. Grey did not move. His crimson hair flowed around him like blood spilled across eternity, his deadened gaze fixed upon nothing. The god of change, left with nothing but the echoes of laughter — and the unbearable truth of his own existence.

The void remained still, the echoes of Merlin's final laughter lingering like a stain upon existence. Grey's shattered form drifted amidst the ruins of countless dimensions, his crimson hair flowing in the absence of gravity. Time itself seemed hesitant to move. The silence gnawed at him, yet he did not stir. Merlin's words, dripping with venom, etched themselves into his mind — a reminder of his failure. But as the stillness stretched on, something stirred within him. His eyes, once dim and hollow, flickered. A spark. Then, without warning, light blazed from his pupils, igniting with determination. "If they can't exist in this timeline," Grey's voice rumbled through the ruins, raw and unyielding, "then I will create one where they can." His hand clenched, trembling, as he reached toward the fading remnants of Merlin's domain. The essence of the ancient sorcerer twisted and writhed, but Grey's will was absolute. With a final, guttural growl, he consumed it.