Thunder roared, and feathers with eyes fluttered in the air. On the ground, the two heroes collided with the chief of the Reincarnators, who did not know death. Swords clashed against solidified lightning.
The man silently walked through the maelstrom. An arrow passed very close to his side, grazing him. Red electrical current crawled across the paving stones at his feet, passing between his legs. Still, the man did not react. He only gave a glance to the god of the forge dangling from the giant teleportation gate, then knitted his brow.
“...Accursed false god.” The man halted in front of the temple. He then stared at the pediment holding up the roof and the deceitful history carved upon it.
“I am the warrior of the armies of Terea, the hero who defended his kingdom—Aegisthus the pious.” Dill walked over to confront the man. “Are you still not done dying, Reincarnator who scorns the gods...!”
“Hero...of the Tereans?” The man looked at Dill, who stopped in his tracks. He shrunk back before the unexpected ferocity emanating from the man.
“Master! Something...is wrong. This man is not a Reincarnator.”
Sid, who should have been fighting with Shiden, instead came to Dill’s side and tugged at his clothes to pull him away, shaking his head again and again. Dill seemed shocked by Sid’s behavior.
“You aren’t Yuujin, are you? Who are you, then?” At the sound of Shiden’s voice, several teleportation gates opened, surrounding the man who was once the Reincarnator called Hero. The Manager known as Summoner emerged alongside a number of notable Chiefs.
There was silence. The battle for the Acropolis now stood still as all attention was focused on this solitary man. The man glared at the Reincarnators surrounding him, the mail-cloaks beyond them, and finally at the people of Vulcan of the Eleven Cities, standing in the distance. A far-off expression fell upon the man’s eyes and his pupils dilated, as if he were sighing. Deep emotions welled up inside him, ones that only he could understand. Finally, with an air of resignation, he broke the ice.
“My name is Prodotis.” His voice was propelled with the force of superhuman lungs. Echoes layered infinitely upon each other, growing in volume the farther they traveled, reaching as far as the castle walls surrounding Vulcan before returning. “I am the warrior reared in Krios of the fierce winds, the king who rules over the fortress city. I am the hero, Prodotis.”
Many among those gathered there did not understand what they were hearing at first—and even Dill was among them. Summoner issued a command to his subordinates.
Four Reincarnator Chiefs attacked Prodotis at once. And just as immediately, they died. The names of those slain were Flaming Dragon, Spartan, and Blue Storm. The moment before Flaming Dragon released an inferno from his mouth, he received a blow to his jaw and incinerated himself instead. Next, the hero unleashed a kick that obliterated Spartan despite the heavy armor he wore. Blue Storm’s point-blank attack against Prodotis was ineffective, deflected by the hero’s skin before he countered with his empty fist. This counterattack caved in the Reincarnator’s forehead, killing him.
“It would seem that a great many years have passed since my death. Am I to understand that this world is now in the era of walking corpses known as Reincarnators?” Prodotis read information directly through his fingertips from Engine, the one Chief still alive, as he clutched the Reincarnator’s head in one mighty hand. Where Prodotis’s fingers touched Engine’s head, gradually Engine’s flesh and bone melted from the hero’s body heat and started to cave in. His body proceeded to go up in flames, turning to charcoal and finally crumbling.
“That’s right. The coming age belongs to us!” The General Manager of the Project was not frightened, and his tone was inappropriately bright. Such emotions as fear simply had not been programmed into him to begin with. “Hey, Yuujin, I know cosplay can be fun when you’re a teenager, but we’re grown adults, aren’t we? So it’s about time we got back to work!”
A spear surrounded by purple lightning flashed into existence—electricity given form by force which then started to break apart, dissolving back into bolts of lightning as it rushed toward the ancient hero’s chest.
How did Prodotis meet this threat?
“Prodotis the Silver, son of Geryon, has arrived.” The spear’s progress halted abruptly—Prodotis had seized it in one of his bare hands. Even touching the spear shouldn’t have left him unharmed. As the spear of lightning disintegrated, the destructive energy composing it began to dissipate into the surrounding air. But the hero would not let go. Blood began to flow from his wounded hand—red blood, from which plumes of steam rose.
The wounds sustained by the hero closed up rapidly, his skin returning to its original appearance. The destruction inflicted by the forged lightning in his grasp and the regenerative properties of his blood fought each other for dominance. Prodotis’s face was grim, but he did not flinch. With his other hand, the hero grabbed Shiden by the head.
“...Hey! You’re tough. Have I lost? According to our specifications, your obsolete Liquid Computer should not be able to withstand my electrical assault. Has it been updated since then? I need to have them investigate this in Tower City. I have to remain the strongest Reincarnator, after all...”
“You seem to be incapable of fear. I pity you.” Prodotis interrupted Shiden even as his body was still being burned by Shiden’s lightning. His face, illuminated by blinding flashes of electricity, was stern, in stark contrast to Shiden’s giddy laughter.
“You pity me?”
“Let me tell you why.”
“What do you think you’re doing—”
Prodotis activated his Skill. This Skill belonged to Eugene, Hero of the Reincarnators, but also to the original source from which it had been copied—the Manager, Puppeteer. It was the Skill of telepathy—of personality intervention. Shiden, who had never known fear, suddenly screamed. He opened his eyes wide and gazed at the messenger of death approaching him, the hero from antiquity who had returned to life.
“I think I shall take your ‘Skill’ as well.” The arm that grasped Shiden’s head glowed, and the veins pulsed as the lightning was sucked from his body.
Prodotis then made noise of annoyance as Summoner, who had opened a gate, emerged with his fist thrust forward. As he threw all his might behind a blow aimed at Prodotis’s spine, the hero said, “Your power also looks like it might be useful,” and seized him by his head as well, throwing Shiden to the ground. The fallen Reincarnator lay motionless. Next, it was Summoner who cried out in horror. Eventually, he, too, fell silent and was cast aside.
No one else had the nerve to challenge Prodotis. The Reincarnators of the Project whispered something to each other. Some of them communicated with some other station on their remote terminals, while others just started to back away slowly.