Chapter 204: Seeking Answers

Chapter 204: Seeking AnswersThen, finally, he spoke.

Not loud. Not soft. Just certain.

"They’ve built this place well."

He stepped forward again, and the Expanse adjusted beneath him. Welcoming the only thing left in it that still moved by will, not design.

The godless crucifix didn’t answer right away.

He stood perfectly still, the silence between them folding into the Expanse like a blade into flesh. The ball of light in his left hand—the half-soul—trembled again. Not from fear. From strain. From presence. It had no eyes, no face, no body... and yet he could feel it glaring back at him.

He turned his wrist slightly, letting the soul’s glow spill across his palm. The blue light shimmered against the red-tinted mist coiling at his feet, casting thin reflections along the obsidian tiles below. A pulse pushed through his fingers—resistance, alive and still trying.

His voice came low.

"You’re not in a place souls were meant to reach."

He raised his right hand, lifting the transparent orb that held Dot. Her form lay curled within the energy shell, unmoving but intact. Her glow was dim, softer than before, but each pulse remained in sync with the other light—her link to Elias holding steady even across planes.

"And yet... here you are."



He tilted his head again, silver eyes narrowing, not in aggression but in calculation.

"That outburst of yours—the scream when you latched to the shard—carved a scar clean through the system’s outer layer. I felt it from inside this deadfold, Elias. A ripple. Loud enough to tear open the ceiling of my cage for a single moment."

The soul light flared again.

Faint. Flickering. But not fading.

"Who... who are you?" the voice asked. Each word dragged, like it had to fight to be heard. "Where’s... Kikaru? Dot?"

The crucifix’s claws tapped once against the orb holding Dot, the sound barely audible, more vibration than tone.

"She’s safe. For now. and here as well..."

Then his gaze fell back to the trembling blue light in his other hand.

"You and the ikona..." His smile returned, slight, never widening. "With me, in my space."

He stepped forward. The tiles beneath his feet rearranged, angling toward the center of the Expanse as if guiding him deeper. The bone spires vibrated with a faint hum, the soul energy inside reacting to the words, the defiance, the presence of something still fighting.

And the crucifix—still smiling—did not look away.

The godless crucifix’s smile widened.

His claws flexed around the orb, a subtle tightening that sent a faint ripple through Dot’s glow. Her light dimmed—just slightly—and a soft, strained whine slipped out, high and raw, like a wire pulled too tight. Her form twitched in the sleep-like stasis, barely conscious, but still tethered to something beyond his reach.

"Your companion is safe—for now," he said.



His voice resonated across the Expanse, low and slow, every syllable coated in a hum that pressed into the bones of the spires. The veins beneath his skin pulsed brighter with each word, red lines crawling up his throat like a map drawn in burning ink.

"She holds the other half of your soul. The other half of your Ikona."

He turned his gaze toward the sphere in his right hand, the one that cradled her. Dot’s form lay curled within the translucent orb, still glowing, still alive. S~eaʀᴄh the Novelƒire(.)ne*t website on Google to access chapters of novels early and in the highest quality.

"A curious thing, this split," he continued, eyes narrowing slightly. "Your soul chose to shield her. To let her hide inside you instead of the shard. That’s why she could see you. Hear you. Even across the divide."

Elias’s soul flared weakly, a soft pulse from the ball of light. His voice followed, trembled into the void.

"What... do you want... with me?"

The question wasn’t loud, but it held weight. It carried everything he’d lost in the liminal realm—Kikaru’s absence, Dot’s fading presence, the wound still echoing beneath his ribs.

The crucifix stepped closer.

The mist gathered around his boots. The spires shook with the movement, their whispers rising into a hiss, a layered chant of broken tones—souls trapped in bone, stirred by power.

"I am an old enemy of those who built the Cube," he said, his voice steady now, every word pressed down like a command. "The Doctor. The Announcer. The others. They serve the creators—the ones who sought control over all dimensions, all timelines, all states of being. They built systems to unify what should never be made uniform."

He moved past a cluster of bone, letting one claw trail across its surface. The spire pulsed faintly, its blue threads dimming under his touch.

"At first, it was survival. I’ll give them that. But survival turned into doctrine. Doctrine into tyranny."

He stopped near the edge of a wide fracture in the field—obsidian shards hovering around the rim of a broken hole, green-black light swirling below.

"They’ve gone too far. Reaching into the fourth dimension. Interfering with the flow of soul paths. Locking people into loops they were never meant to endure. Binding existence to a blueprint... they were never meant to write."

He turned again, lifting the half-soul in his palm, letting Elias see his own flickering light reflected against the mist.



"I found you because of the energy you released. When you shattered your shard."

He paused.

A faint twitch at the corner of his mouth. Not amusement. Something stranger. Almost... reverent.

"That’s never happened before."

The silence held between them.

"I... I didn’t mean to do that..." Elias’s voice quivered, the pulse of his soul flickering like a match in wind.

The crucifix didn’t look away.

"Well," he said, tilting his head slightly. "In some way..."

He flexed his fingers, and the crimson mist spun outward in a slow spiral.

"It worked out for me."

The godless crucifix’s smile softened, a glint of respect in his silver eyes as he lowered Elias’s soul, the blue glow pulsing faintly in his grip.

"You broke the shard, which in turn released so much energy I was able to find you in your dying moments," he said, his voice resonant, each word a hum that echoed through the Expanse, the crimson mist swirling at his feet.