Chapter 542: Let Me Out, Brother
⫷『Notice: Use of the skill: Dragon God Body failed!』⫸
⫷『Your synchronicity with the Overlord of Ruin is too low!』⫸
⫷『The Player needs at least 50% synchronicity to be able to use the skill.』⫸
⫷『The Player is advised to build their relationship by being more friendly and familiar with the Overlord of Ruin.』⫸
Alister moved his gaze from the system to Alameck as he spoke.
"Why should I help you, Sonoris? What do I owe you but chains and silence? What has our so-called legacy ever brought me but servitude?"
Alister’s expression remained unreadable.
"You’re right," he said simply. "You owe me nothing."
He took a step closer, the soul sea rippling with each measured movement. The golden light surrounding him flickered softly, like distant stars whispering in the void.
"But tell me, Alameck... don’t you want to see him again?"
Alameck’s breath caught—just for a heartbeat.
His body stiffened. That memory.
A storm of old emotion flashed behind his eyes before he forced it down with a venomous scoff.
"Don’t even try the sympathy card with me," he growled, voice raw. "I’m not a child, brother."
Alister didn’t flinch. He let the silence stretch between them.
"I know you’re not," he finally said. "You’re Alameck—the Overlord of Ruin, the God Eater, the Lord of Silence. You’ve carved your name into history with blood and will. Even gods falter when your name is mentioned."
He took another step, the radiant soul sea parting gently before him.
"And for all your rage... you never once denied it, did you? You wanted to see him again. You wanted to ask why he left. Why he never came back. Why he chose to die instead of endure with us."
Alameck clenched his fists, trembling now, purple flames lashing violently around his form.
"Shut up."
"He would have come back if he could," Alister pressed on, voice quieter now, laced with something deeper. "But he entrusted something to us. Both of us. You just... twisted that pain into chains because it hurt too much to carry."
"I said shut up!" Alameck’s roar cracked through the soul sea, splitting the silence like a lance of thunder.
Alister didn’t raise his voice. He didn’t need to.
He had to be—
"You want to break everything I’ve built? Then do it. Tear it down. But if there’s still a part of you that remembers what it meant to be our father’s sons... even a single, flickering ember—"
He extended his hand.
"Then come with me. Not as my prisoner. Not as my burden. But as my brother."
The light between them pulsed gently, as if holding its breath. Alameck’s form trembled, caught between wrath and longing.
"...Damn you," he whispered, almost too softly to hear. "Damn you for remembering what I tried to forget."
"I hate it when you do this," he spat. "When you just disregard the pain of others—all because you want some hopeful resolution to cling to."
His aura flared violently, the soul sea around him darkening like a gathering storm.
"You always did this, Sonoris. Always. The way you used to leave our enemies breathing when I could have ended them eons ago. And what happened? They came back. Every time. Stronger. Hungrier. More determined to destroy everything we built."
His hands curled into trembling fists as memories flooded his voice.
"You talk of mercy, of light, of trust—but where has it gotten us? How many of our kin died because you never took the war to the doorstep of our enemies? You always waited for it to come to you."
He took a sharp step forward, the chains creaking against his wrath.
"How your damned trusting nature made our descendants complacent and weak."
His gaze locked onto Alister’s, a feral glint in his eyes.
"You always spoke of light like it’s salvation... but you always forget." He pointed a claw at the glowing radiance around them. "That same light always casts shadows—behind every being it lifts up, there’s always someone or something it leaves in the dark."
"So no, I won’t help you unless you let me out, brother."
Alister didn’t speak immediately.
For a moment, the words he saw from that fusion from the future echoed in his mind.
"Do not let Alameck out."
He lowered his extended hand slowly, the golden light dimming just a fraction. But there was no disappointment on his face—only calm acceptance. He met Alameck’s gaze without flinching, letting the silence stretch between them like a taut wire ready to snap.
"...Then so be it," Alister said at last, his voice quiet—unshaken. "If that is the price of your cooperation, then I’ll bear it."
Alameck blinked, a flicker of surprise flashing across his face. "What?"
"You heard me." Alister’s tone didn’t waver. "I will release you."
The soul sea shuddered, golden ripples racing outward as if the very fabric of the realm recoiled at the idea.
"You’ll what?" Alameck hissed. "You’d really do that? After everything I’ve done? You’d unleash me into the world again, just like that?"
"I didn’t say ’just like that.’" Alister took a single, deliberate step forward, golden flames dancing around his form like sentient threads. "I said I’d bear it. The consequences, the risk, the blood—whatever it costs."
He met his brother’s disbelieving gaze with a strange, solemn warmth.
"Because I trust you to choose. Not out of pity. Not because you owe me. But because you still can."
Alameck’s face twisted, torn between incredulity and fury.
"You’re a fool," he growled. "A soft-hearted, suicidal fool."
"Maybe." Alister shrugged lightly. "But if even one part of you still remembers what it meant to be more than just the Lord of Silence... then I’ll take that risk."
The chains surrounding Alameck began to tremble.
Not from resistance.
But from response.
"...You’d gamble the world on me?" Alameck asked, voice suddenly quieter. "On a monster who nearly wiped out the heavens twice? Who tore through the Astral Halls and laughed while doing it?"
"I’m not gambling the world," Alister said, the faintest smile tugging at his lips. "I’m gambling on my brother."
Silence again.
But this time, it wasn’t jagged or hostile.
It was hesitant.
Vulnerable.
Alameck looked down at his shackles, then at his trembling hands, the purple aura around him dimming ever so slightly.
"...You have changed, Sonoris."
"I guess," Alister said. "But perhaps you have too."
