Click!
The soft chime of a notification didn't make him avert his eyes from the vast cluster of stars above. Nothing would make him miss the chance to see them one last time.
"I think I had just been born when it happened", he whispered to what was once his domain, a glorious spread of solar systems with countless moons, some just like the one he now used as a refuge.
"Rank 5 lifeforms approaching," came the metallic voice of Iris, his old companion. A high-tier AI that had stood by his side for countless centuries, echoing once again in his ears.
"Shut down your functions, Iris. This is the end. Find your rest far away from the Ministry's claws", he said each word with pain and sorrow, though for a brief second, he thought he saw hesitation cross the metallic face of his friend.
"Powering down... Initiating final mission."
A relieved sigh escaped him.
He watched as her silver-plated back began to drift away. Then, her soft voice reached his ears, barely a whisper.
"Survive, master... I'll be waiting for your return. Please..."
Her voice was gentle like an autumn breeze and sweet as the kiss of his late mother.
"How did she do that?!"
The thought hit him like a wave of panic.
"When was the last time I lost control?"
There was no more time to dwell. In the distance, dozens of spaceships pierced the airspace and flew straight toward him.
Even without Iris, he could feel them, thousands of Arquemagus aboard each ship. One didn't need to be a genius to understand: with a force of this scale, hundreds of Magnus were certainly on board.
The last time the Ministry launched an operation of this magnitude, four gods died, and the entire Magus Universe was thrown into chaos.
"Yeah... They're afraid."
The ships finally shifted into formation. The motherships took the outer edges while the assault ships connected them, forming a perfect octogram.
"Well... I trained them well. Too well."
The eight gates opened, and silver auras spilled across the lunar surface. Eight cloaks, identical to his own, save for the lack of golden adornments, replaced instead by polished silver.
He had been under attack for at least ten lunar cycles. And no matter how powerful the Minister's mantle was, not even it could withstand suicide assaults from hundreds of Magnus forever.
Cloaked figures, wrapped in pure silver
aura, advanced toward him.
"If any god is listening… please, Maximus and Abayomir... may you not be among them", he prayed deeply, knowing full well what gods truly were and given his past, it was far more likely they would descend not to save him, but to kill him.
And for the second time in mere minutes, he sighed in relief.
"So... you didn't betray me", he thought.
The eight black hoods lowered, revealing the faces of his future executioners. Never friends, but never enemies either, each held a seat in the Ministry.
"Ministers of Magic. Magnus of the highest level, knowledge, and power… now reduced to assassins and low-tier thieves."
He spat every word with venom and contempt.
"Your defiance ends here, filthy half-breed!"
shouted the bald, blue-skinned man.
Everyone knew Minister Imbassaí trafficked half-blood slaves and openly supported any political cause that weakened kind.
"You've held out long enough, Viper. Hand over the [Rank 8] artifact and renounce your position in the Ministry" came a calm yet eager voice from behind.
He no need to turn around, it was Minister Ophelia, a moss-green skinned elf and the oldest living Magnus in the Ministry.
"Of course... And you'd all just waste the perfect opportunity to kill me while every god's attention is elsewhere?", his voice dripped with sarcasm.
His gaze finally drifted toward the floating notification on his forearm:
[Open Universe Notification]
Federation Alert: Three new galaxies have been absorbed into the cosmos within the dead zone of Quadrant Alpha. Level 3 and 4 factions, you are invited to the Initialization. Their names are: Andromeda, Centaurus A, and the Milky Way.
"We must end this now. The Federation will notice if the Ministry doesn't attend the Initialization, said an old, beardless dwarf with pearl-colored skin, his entire body covered in rune tattoos. Minister Benjamin. His voice was firm but showed none of the urgency it should have.
As if rehearsed, their hands began to move, and the once-peaceful moon began to crack apart.
The cosmos itself responded to the will of the eight Ministers of Magic. Every word, every gesture, every intent became one the with mana.
Backed by the Octagonal Formation, their mana was nearly infinite for as long as the Arquemagus lived. Of course, Viper knew this, he had created that damned trap, and now it was being used against him.
Space was sealed. In fact, even time itself seemed to have slipped out of its normal flow. That same formation had been used countless times to slay gods in the Ministry's name.
In the end, everything turned against him.
"All because of my incompetence... If only I had become a-"
His lament was cut short.
It was ready, a [Rank 7] spell: [Stellar Extinction]. A spell far too powerful for a mere moon to endure. Even before it was fully cast, the lunar ground had already become floating debris now, it would be reduced to cosmic dust.
"You know... I really thought my end would be different. But you... you have no sense of control," his voice shifted in those last moments, turning into a spectral hiss.
And suddenly, everything they were trying to hide behind masks. The prejudice, false calm, fake urgency, collapsed.
Fear!!
Viper raised the [Rank 8] artifact, a glowing purple crystal orb.
"Yes, I'll die here! Slain by the Ministry I once gave my life to." He poured his final will into one last message to all present.
"But even so… I kept the CONTROL!!!"
And then, he tasted it, the fear shifting into despair as his pale fingers crushed the crystal orb.
"UNLEASH! [Domain: Primordial Void]"