Factory Reset: Divine Corruption

Chapter Seventy-Eight

Chapter Seventy-Eight: 

It was hard to imagine what someone split apart would look like. There was something so grotesque about seeing half a body, even if that half barely contains any organs and is more dust and metal than actual blood. It was unnatural to see a body split in half, it is not meant to be, and likely - that person is dead.

And Bathysphere had the luck to see every single second of that grotesque action. The aquatic protogen had awoken just mere seconds before the God of Inorganic creation - no, the devil - had reawaken. He could barely process any of the images brushing his mind, even as he stared at the two divine entities.

At first, the golden colored arm reached up. It was slow, methodic and tired. It gently grasped Rip-Cord's leg, blood escaping the wound even as his other leg had been separated. The hand pulled the protogen down hard, slamming his visor against the earth that had been cracked, reducing a granitic rock to dust against the nanites.

Bathysphere could only look on in horror as Divento, God of Inorganic Creation and The Devil, rose from his casket in the earth. Rain thundered hard as it returned, Bathysphere barely feeling the droplets against his numb body, barely even registering that water was around him. Even if he did realize, he couldn't have done anything to Divento.

The God's flesh, golden and radiant, was sore and blistered. Ichor softly flowed from his wounds, and he appeared ragged - breathing hard and difficult. The God spoke no words, simply moving his other hand to Rip-Cord's throat, and gripping tightly as he rose even higher, a pedestal of tungsten and steel rose underneath him

And even with Bathysphere feeling dread course through his veins, utter fear at seeing his friend, his crewmate and his compatriot , getting killed. After everything that had happened, after so long and after so much careful planning, after so long - he was scared. He was dreading what was going to happen.

But Rip-Cord had gone expecting to die, even with how powerful he found that he was. And Rip-Cord faced the God, he faced death itself, without fear or worry. Rip-Cord produced no sound - he could not produce any sound, and yet it was a promise. A promise to the God that he would not succeed in his plans. That no matter what, no matter his death, the God would die just like any other mortal.

And then, Rip-Cord died.

It was an instant death. There was no build up, no last final words, nothing exchanged to give that finale of life. Just a grip against his throat, and a twist of his hands, and Rip-Cord's neck snapped like a twig. And just like that, the monochromatic protogen's body went limp, and the heartful and chivalrous protogen died.

And then, Bathysphere watched on in vacant horror as the God reached down, gripped the protogen's soft stomach, and pulled as hard as he could. The wind moved with his hand, the skin stretching before ripping apart instantly. Blood burst with the effort, long ropes of organs splattering out before sloshing against the ruptured earth.

And in that instant, as that first organ splashed down against the segmented rock, Bathysphere finally felt reality hit him. Rip-Cord was dead. The greatest hope they had for leaving this planet had died, and now the god had free reign to do whatever he wanted. Rip-Cord was dead. He was dead.

Bathysphere felt, in that exact moment, his mind snap. Whether it be because of physical trauma or seeing his friend die in such a manner, no one would know. Whatever was the case, a massive flood of Boson Energy cascaded down from Bathysphere. A pure unadulterated flood of pure rage and hatred overflowing from his every pore.

The water around them froze instantly, and in the next instant the water sharpened, and was shot directly at the God with blinding speed. Bathysphere himself did not move even an inch, even as Blue lightning extended from and the rain in miles froze and then sharpened. In a single, solitary instant - the water was shot directly at the God without warning.