I Can Assimilate Everything

Their descent was a silence that carried weight- an unspoken gravity that pressed upon the hearts of all who had gathered.

From the radiant Sea of Thalassara above, two figures glided down in a slow, majestic drift that stole the breath of even the most prideful Ancients.

Achilles descended first, his form wrapped in flowing garments of living starlight forged into Cataclysmic Star Armor. The radiant gold shimmer of it shifted like rivers of burning light across a robe woven from collapsing novas.

Every fold bore Runescriptures, and with each subtle motion, arcs of stellar energy danced gently in his wake. His crown, golden and sharp, hovered just above his head, casting light across his chiseled jaw and sharp purple gold eyes that gazed forward with stillness!

Beside him came Rose.

And she… she was a spectacle made glorious. Her armor was born of the same Cataclysmic forge, but where Achilles shone gold, hers was a radiant blend of purple and starlit obsidian. Her robe curled like starlight, woven with pulsing veins of purple that mirrored the auroras shimmering in the sky. Her green hair flowed freely behind her, aflame with translucent emerald fire, a living contrast of fury and grace. Her eyes, verdant and bright, scanned the masses calmly.

Together, they landed softly upon the platform of the Primal Neon Tower.

Their steps echoed softly as they passed by their people who had lined the path with reverent silence.

The Monkey King, Sun, stood with arms crossed and a bemused expression.

Aliya stood firm, arms behind her back as Lancelot watched coldly.

Luna and Nyxaria were shadows of starlight, waiting as Luna in particular had bright eyes of pride from what wss currently happening!

Dr. Shaw gave the smallest of nods from where he stood, hands clasped tightly behind his back.

Achilles and Rose ascended the final steps.

If this was days ago, they might have felt like imposters playing the role of King and Queen.

Today…it felt natural! It felt right.

Two thrones awaited them at the heart of the Primal Neon Tower, set high above the vast courtyard that now brimmed with Ancients of power and pride.

The golden throne of the King. The purple throne of the Queen.

They sat calmly before looking out at all those here.

And silence fell like a tidal veil across the tower.

All the Ancient Lineages and Humans watched the two thrones with stillness!

And none spoke first.

They were Ancients. Some had lived through hundreds of years. They carried pride and weight. But none of them understood Achilles.

That silence grew.

And then it broke when…

Achilles leaned slightly forward, his voice rising with calm and command- each word sinking into the bones of those listening.

"You are all here," he began, "to understand whether power exists that can stand against the Primordial Light of Darkness and others like it. You wish to see if there is something you can rely on. Something… or someone."

His voice settled.

A heavy stillness followed.

And yet, he had spoken of Andras as if it still lived. Not a soul in the crowd knew the truth. That this threat they feared- he had already silenced it. Quietly. Without celebration.

He let their fear remain.

A Mythical Dragon stepped forward, her scaled form regal and her violet robe of sunsilk flowing like mist. Her eyes, deep as black holes, stared.

"You are human," she said coolly. "And yet Destiny coils around your being. How did you manage to bring Planar Destiny under your control? To do what you did to call us here?"

…!

A hush followed.

It was the question all had come to ask.

But Achilles didn't answer it the way they wanted.

His eyes, glacial and steady, bore into hers without blinking. "You came here to obtain power against Outsiders," he said instead. "The one thing Destiny gave me… is that power. And I have no problem sharing it." Visit My Virtual Library Empire (M_VLEMPYR) for more.

Skepticism rippled through the crowd.

Another voice, deeper and tinged with a growl, broke the air.

The Royal Panthera Crown Prince, his bronze eyes filled with restrained challenge, stepped forward.

"Why?" he asked. "You fought and killed Ancients not long ago. Why the change of heart now?"

Why indeed.

Achilles looked at him for a long breath before he replied.

"Because I saw what waits beyond," he said, his tone even but sharp. "An Outsider with terrifying power had already arrived. That was just one. What happens when dozens, or hundreds, descend? I will die, just like all of you. And I do not want to die."

He let the words hang.

No flourish. No threat. Just truth.

"Therefore," he continued, "I will share the boon I was given. It will multiply the power of any who accept it. And this gift, this strength granted by Destiny..."

His hand slowly lifted.

He pointed above- toward the Sea of Thalassara.

As he did, pools of cerulean light the size of palaces detached from the radiant Sea above and drifted downward, slowly and silently, coming to hover just above the gathered Ancients.

The liquid shimmered like frozen time, like stars dissolved into light.

"This sacred Sea," Achilles said, "is the reason for my strength. Baptism within it will elevate any of you to fight against the Outsiders. You need only step in."

Gasps.

Even the High Elves blinked with disbelief. The Slimes vibrated with shock. The Dwarves narrowed their eyes. The Fairies watched with shining eyes!

Above them... pools of light from a celestial Sea- pools that radiated with pure authority.

Rose sat beside Achilles with a faint smile forming on her lips. Her gaze shifted toward him, and in her eyes danced a playful light. Knowing. Her lips twitched, her green flames flaring slightly in delight.

She almost laughed.

Because she knew.

Because she understood what no one else in this tower did.

Not only had Achilles already sent his spores into the very land they walked on, not only had he laced the air they breathed- but now, he would have them walk willingly into the very waters he controlled.

They would grow stronger, yes.

They would evolve to become Thalassarians, yes.

But they would do so as extensions of him.

He held the Heart of Thalassara.

And through it, their fate.

It was a glorious plan.

And now, it was unfolding in perfect silence as the Ancients gazed upward in awe and confusion- unaware of the chains being offered to them wrapped in the promise of strength.

Achilles said nothing more.

He simply sat upon his throne.

And waited!