"Though we can't call in an extermination protocol… I have a plan to destroy the planet if we can't banish that thing," Moriarty said as the horde of heretics closed in on us.
"You really want to fight that?" Tom asked, staring at the colossal dragon as layers of flesh continued to grow over its skeletal frame. "Alright then. Guess we're going down swinging."
"Ever built a particle accelerator?" Moriarty asked.
"The what?" Tom replied, visibly confused.
"Think of it as something very small that makes a very big boom," Moriarty explained.
"…How big are we talking?" Tom asked.
"A planetary explosion," Moriarty said calmly. "I just need a few minutes to set up some countermeasures. But first, we clear out the heretics."
"…I'll get the remaining soldiers to safety," Tom replied, his body dissolving into the ground.
"Perfect. I can finally test the upper limits of my speed," Moriarty muttered, stretching his arms and legs as he prepared himself.
"So… is this what you meant when you said this world was going to be destroyed no matter what you did?" Ryuk laughed, clearly amused by the situation.
"Where there is death, there will always be death," Moriarty replied, lifting his gaze toward Ryuk. "But that death doesn't always belong to those who were destined to die. Sometimes… we can change the outcome."
"So this isn't one of those times?" Ryuk asked.
Moriarty simply smiled.
And then… he activated his ability.
The world stopped.
Sound vanished first, then motion.
The heretics were caught mid-step, mouths half-open, weapons suspended inches from flesh.
Drops of blood hung in the air like crimson beads, unmoving. The half-grown muscle wrapping around the colossal dragon skeleton froze mid-pulse, veins exposed, twitching without ever completing the motion.
Time itself had been seized.
Even the eye in the sky hesitated. Its massive pupil twitched, attempting to focus, failing to immediately lock onto Moriarty, as if it had momentarily lost the right to observe him.
BOOM
The stillness shattered.
Moriarty exploded forward.
The ground beneath his feet disintegrated the instant he pushed off, stone collapsing into powder as his body crossed dozens of meters in less than a blink. His first heretic never saw him coming, its skull caved inward as Moriarty's fist drove straight through its face, bone and brain liquefying outward from the point of impact.
CRACK
He didn't slow.
He tore the arm off the next heretic mid-sprint, twisting his body just enough to slam the severed limb through another's chest.
Ribs snapped outward as the torso folded around the impact, organs bursting from the sudden compression.
Moriarty's hand plunged into a third body, fingers closing around a still-beating heart. He ripped it free and crushed it in his palm before the heretic's eyes could widen... blood spraying upward like a ruptured fountain.
He ran through them.
Literally through them.
Every step was a kill. Elbows shattered jaws. Knees turned spines into loose chains of bone. His fingers pierced eye sockets, his forearms split ribcages open, his shoulders obliterated torsos simply by colliding with them at impossible speed.
Blood didn't drip... it detonated.
It coated the walls, the ground, the ceiling. It wrapped around Moriarty's body in thick layers, soaking into his clothes, clinging to his skin, filling the air with the metallic stench of torn flesh.
Skulls were torn free mid-run and discarded without thought. Some bodies were reduced to fragments before they even hit the ground. Others collapsed a second later, realizing too late that half of themselves was missing.
Moriarty's vision was drowned entirely in red.
Still, he didn't stop.
The strain finally caught up... his leg cracked as it struck the ground at a velocity it was never meant to withstand. His bone fractured violently... and healed instantly.
The muscle rewoved itself, bones reformed.
He didn't even break stride.
There was no pain, hesitation or, mercy in his actions, only a swift execution for everything in his path.
When it was over, the ground was unrecognizable, torn remains scattered like debris after an explosion. The air itself felt heavier, thick with blood mist and shattered flesh.
By the end of it…
From what I counted…
He killed 958,017 heretics in 0.3 seconds.
"....."
The eye did not move.
Its vast pupil remained locked onto Moriarty, unblinking, as though dissecting him layer by layer with cold, methodical scrutiny.
And what it saw… was disappointing.
A human.
Blood-soaked, breathing heavy, muscles trembling beneath torn flesh. A body that had pushed far beyond its natural limits and was now standing on nothing but stubborn will alone.
An exhausted creature at the brink of collapse.
Yet… Moriarty raised his arm.
His hand trembled slightly as he extended a finger, pointing not at the eye, but at the colossal dragon of flesh and bone as it finally completed its grotesque formation. Muscle finished knitting itself across ancient ribs, veins pulsed... the thing breathed.
Moriarty smiled.
"You're looking at the wrong threat," he said, the grin on his face sharp and unapologetic.
That was when it noticed.
The blood.
The oceans of blood coating the battlefield... soaking the ground, filling the cracks in the stone... were no longer pooling.
They were moving.
Streams of crimson began to sink into the earth, seeping downward at an accelerating pace, vanishing as though the ground itself had opened its mouth. The soaked soil darkened further, then lightened again as it drank everything greedily.
The eye finally shifted.
Understanding dawned.
"Just like gods," Moriarty continued, his voice steady despite the exhaustion burning through his body. "Greater demons like you require an absurd amount of faith just to manifest in the physical realm."
He let out a breathless chuckle.
"But you came here and slaughtered all the worshippers who called you."
His finger tightened, pointing at the abomination behind him.
"You crushed them together, melted them down, and turned them into that thing."
Moriarty's grin widened, wild, almost joyous.
"So tell me," he asked, eyes gleaming red beneath the blood, "what do you think happens when that thing falls apart?"
His smile turned vicious.
"A flood's coming, you son of a Mahoon."