The faintest flicker of hesitation in Lola—just a crack in her fierce resolve—was all it took.
It was small, almost imperceptible, but to the Trickster God, it was like an open gateway. He seized upon it like a ravenous wolf. That moment of uncertainty emboldened him, feeding his power and tilting the scales of fate ever so slightly in his favour.
Lola had no idea. If only she had steeled herself fully—mind, body, and spirit—she might've shattered the Trickster's grip on reality itself. But doubt is a weapon, and the Trickster wielded it like a scalpel.
She tried to move forward again, rallying with those around her, but it was too late.
The Trickster God raised a hand lazily, as though brushing away a fly. A ripple of spatial distortion surged forth, and in an instant, a pocket dimension bloomed—silent, shimmering, and insatiable. The dome of warped space expanded with an eerie hum and swallowed every single fighter whole, erasing them from the hall as if they'd never existed. Not even dust remained.
Then came the laughter again—cold, high-pitched, and inhuman.
"Ahahahahahahaha—fools."
And with a flicker, he vanished.
Cut off from this reality, away, in the fifth dimension, Josh Aratat stiffened. He didn't need a messenger or vision to tell him what had just transpired. The soul-link he shared with his comrades throbbed, then like a mirror, it revealed the true states of his comrades. They had been captured by the trickster god.
They were gone.
And the signature—there was no mistaking it. Trickster God.
Josh didn't panic. He couldn't afford to. His face was carved in cold resolve, though his hands clenched behind his back until the knuckles turned white. Apart from the fact that he couldn't right now, charging blindly into the unknown would solve nothing—it might even doom the rest. He needed clarity. He needed calm.
And then… a voice echoed from within him. Deep, slow, and disoriented:
"Why are we here… in a prison?"
Josh's eyes narrowed. The voice was familiar—one he hadn't heard in what felt like years.
He answered in his mind, the words dripping with fatigue, disappointment, and quiet warning:
"David Stormborn… you've finally woken up."
There was no cheer, no relief. Only the kind of restrained tone one reserves for an old friend whose betrayal still stung.
Something was stirring within him—something ancient, powerful, and dangerous.
And the Trickster god had just made it the worst feeling a mortal could have, similar to seeing an ex whom you once loved and shared memories with, and not being able to talk to her.
"What's with the sarcastic tone? I've just been away for a few days..." David Stormborn replied, genuinely baffled and feeling wronged.
"I was upgrading to a new version," he added quickly, as if trying to justify himself. "With my upgrade, you can develop faster, master higher levels of your power and cultivation more efficiently. I even left system rewards behind to help you during the transition..."
David, who was usually more reserved in tone, suddenly found himself rambling. Deep down, something in Josh's silence made him uneasy—like he had underestimated just how furious Josh really was.
"Do you know where I am right now? This is the 5th dimension.... the prison of the 5th dimension..., and before getting here I had called for your help severally but it never came, besides....You've been gone for 6 months, 2 weeks, and 4 days," Josh Aratat cut him off coldly, his mental voice steady but laced with quiet fury. "I've been locked in a prison, and my generals—my friends—are in chains. The trickster god has captured them back on Earth. If I don't find a way to return soon, they might cease to exist before I even get the chance."
The words dropped like stones in a silent room.
Their entire conversation occurred within Josh's mind—telepathic, internal, silent. Avalon, the Serpent Goddess of Reversion, who occupied the cell closest to his, remained unaware. She watched him carefully, noting the flickers of emotion across his face—the twitch of a brow, the tightening of his jaw, a flash of pain in his eyes. All confusing signs. He hadn't spoken a single word to her since arriving, yet here he was, visibly reacting to something… or someone.
Her golden serpent eyes narrowed. What was going on in that mortal's head?
Josh, meanwhile, had gone still again—eyes open, unmoving, body upright—but inside, a storm raged. His silence wasn't resignation.
It was the calm before war.
"We can break out of the 5th dimension prison and send the Trickster God back here," David Stormborn began, his tone heavier now, more serious. "However, you have to break through your I AM King Protocol to level 6. I can help you with that, but it would take time."
He paused, as if carefully considering the weight of his next words. "Another option… is to use the help of the serpentine god over there—Avalon. She would temporarily occupy your dimensional coordinates, while you go through a phase portal to Earth and banish the Trickster God back into this place. I believe the second option would take significantly less time—and would place far less strain on you compared to the first."
The mental link crackled with silence.
Josh Aratat's thoughts sharpened as the proposal registered. It was the first time since the conversation began that his full attention turned to David.
"Alright," Josh finally replied, his voice low in their shared mental space. "The second option seems easier. But I've ignored that serpent god since I got here. I don't even know how time flows here..."
His gaze remained unfocused, his mind weaving through memories, calculations, and instinct. "I've ignored every single word she's said since I arrived—completely. Suddenly asking for her help? That wouldn't cut it. And without her help, or a good replacement it won't work out. Not when we're dealing with an ancient prison that scans for occupancy in all quantum sublayers. We can't trick it by simply vanishing. We need a convincing anchor, something it won't question. A mirror image... of a prisoner still trapped."
Josh let the logic settle, but beneath his calm reasoning, a storm of doubt and reluctant strategy brewed.
David Stormborn sighed audibly in his thoughts. "You sound like you're giving up. Which is so unlike you. If I didn't know any better, I'd think you're just stating the obvious to piss me off."
A pause. Then David added with a smirk, "Because I know you. You never ever give up."
Josh didn't miss a beat.
"Then give me a better idea," he snapped mentally, his frustration like a steel wire being pulled taut. "Or shut up and let me think."
David grinned. "There he is."
Josh ignored the quip. His eyes slowly opened, pupils dilating as they adjusted to the ambient glow of the prison plane. He turned—finally—toward the adjacent cell.
Avalon.
The Serpent Goddess of Reversion had been watching him the whole time. Her golden reptilian eyes shimmered with amusement—or perhaps intrigue—as if she had been waiting for this exact moment.
Josh met her gaze for the first time.
Something unspoken passed between them. Her smirk deepened, the whites of her exposed teeth catching the light as though she'd known he would eventually turn to her.
Like a game only she understood—and he was finally choosing to play.