Level-Up Apocalypse: Surviving With The Assimilation System

"You and me–we're bound together! Our souls–linked! Is it destiny?! Fate?! Whatever it is, it brought us here–Oblivion and Creation. Two good-for-nothing men who weren't worth a shit when the world was stable," Crow spouted even as his forehead was cut open by the clash.

The pain wasn't a factor for either men; Finn lunged forward, dragging his dagger upward through the air.

It narrowly missed the killer's abdomen; he glanced up before ducking to the side as the cleaver was swept for him in retaliation.

In the same movement, he spun around, slashing for his rival's throat—

"Ghk!"

—The dagger failed to reach Crow's neck, intercepted by his forearm that was slashed open instead. Even while being cut, the smile failed to fade from Crow's lips.

Finn didn't waste a moment; he pivoted, ducking beneath a wild cleaver swing before piercing his blade forward—

"Ah…"

Right into the heart of the deranged figure, the dagger sank. He could feel the beating of the core organ against the hardened steel before slowly sliding it out.

Crow stumbled back, holding his ever present smile before collapsing onto his back, "Ahhh…What a shame you don't enjoy killing. You're the best at it."

He walked over, looking down at the strange man as he knelt beside him, "Crow, I'm going to return everything as it was. But you…"

"You won't bring me back. Understandable—" Crow chuckled lightly.

Finn shook his head, "No, I will—if you tell me you want to change. If you agree to it, I'll help you change. I'll remove whatever this is—"

"And fundamentally change this deranged, depraved mind?" Crow asked, laying against the stone floor.

"Is that really what you want? To stay like this? You can't see?—" Finn asked.

"Haaah…No, I understand. I know I'm sick. But still, I have no complaints. I've enjoyed every moment of my life, as I will enjoy my end; I can't argue with how I got here," Crow claimed as blood spilled from his wounds.

It was somewhat relieving to hear the admission from the depraved person, though it didn't change their current situation.

"I don't care to change. However, I know that you'll feel hurt if I decline your offer. It's a kind gesture, anyway; you didn't need to ask, but you did. So, you have my blessing," Crow accepted, reaching his hand out.

Finn accepted the dying man's hand, granting him a small nod, "I'll make sure you can experience a normal life, then. It can be just as exciting as this crazed one you've lived."

"I'll hold you to it then, friend," Crow smirked. "Let's see the world you make."

With the final utterances, so did the last breath leave Crow's lips before his body went limp. With that, he was alone—there was nobody else left.

"—"

He stood up, staring at the sky of the artificial, empty world he created. With a breath, he held the air in his lungs, bringing his hand with his thumb pressed against his index finger before—snap.

Everything was wiped away. Read exclusive chapters at My Virtual Library Empire

Every planet, every star, the cosmos themselves were stripped away. All that was left was—nothing; a clean slate.

It was a lonesome sight, feeling the weight of the emptiness around him—

"Look what you've managed."

"Ah."

He glanced to the side, not quite finding himself alone in existence. The transient man of a monotone complexion stood there with his hands stuffed in his trenchcoat.

"Evanescent. You're still around," Finn remarked.

"Unfortunately, there's nothing that can undo my existence. As I've witnessed, not even the end of reality," Evanescent observed.

"I'm going to reset everything, bring everything back—all besides the apocalypse and whatever tries to endanger humanity," Finn claimed, looking over at the transient figure.

The Evanescent stood there in the blank, white void absent of all matter, "Is that so? Well, can't say I expected you to walk your way into being god."

"I don't care about this "authority." I just want to set things right—that's all," Finn admitted.

Every second he held onto the power of creation, he could feel his own closeness to humanity numbing. It wasn't something he wanted to hold close for long, glancing at his hand as a radiant shine began to emit.

"I see," the Evanescent said. "Well, I'll be watching."

In that blank void, deprived of a tangible existence, the young man clenched his fist, closing his eyes as he envisioned it–the deserved world.

["I can do it. I feel it…the wandering souls of everybody that died. I just have to bring them all together in one place, back to Earth—then return it all."]

First came the cosmos; every reaching, ever expanding.

Next, nebulae swirled; the coalescence of energy brought forth stars.

From giant to dust, worlds were born; places few and far between, yet given the chance of life.

Then, Earth was returned; sculpted to its last history, brought back to its last year: ["2024"]. Only, it wasn't simply carved as is; the pollution in the sky was washed away like a used rag, the lesser favored were given small favors.

It was with the final touches of the young man did he give the wandering souls the bodies they had lost. Each and every person that perished in the apocalypse; one by one, life was woven again.

As too much heat would burn a marshmallow, he chose not to meddle too much; as much as he could, he left it as is.

["It's done. It's…back. So then, I don't need this anymore."]

Standing outside of the globe, he held in his hands the Authority of Creation. A beautiful gift that he could not diminish; after all, it returned to him all that he yearned for.

Yet, he did not wish to hold it.

All of the exhaustion, the wear on his mind, the traumatic experiences he witnessed—he felt it all when finally exhaling. It was a freeing sensation, as though the boulder resting upon his shoulders crumbled away.

"Alright, it's time to go home," he said with a small smile.