Limitless The Strongest Revenant

"Esteemed Limitless, Soulgears are created from a deceased reaper's soulgems."

The moment I heard this, my gut twisted into knots. Most people would be saddened by the circumstances of the reaper. After all, if life was so bad that you had to use your family's bones or flesh, it was not only barbaric, but downright cruel.

"It's true, I'm afraid, the only way to create a soulgear is from a dead reaper. Replicas like this one exist, but there is no way to create one from scratch. That is why reaper corpses are recovered no matter how badly they are destroyed."

But that wasn't what consumed my imagination. No, maybe because I was a heartless bastard, my mind went down a more dangerous path.

'Soulgear farming...'

If Soulgears were made from dead Reapers, then the quickest way to get an ability you needed was to kill a Reaper who had it. Once you found that ability, you could get their Soulgem and have it turned into a Soulgear.

'Shit, am I overthinking this? This meant that even raising Reapers like cattle would make sense. All you needed was an amazing {Fate},' I theorized in disgust.

Then I wondered how I would react if I saw the girls as soulgear. The moment such thoughts crossed my mind, I felt my rage erupt like a volcano.

Souls enveloped the air as my blood lust visibly manifested around me like smoke. Phillip suddenly grabbed Cynthia as he retreated.

"Fuck, not again."

"Mr. Scrivener, what is going on?!"

I tried to calm myself as I felt my insides begin to twist in pain. Maybe because I knew what was happening, I mustered my reason to suppress the anger in my heart. But the rage was too fucking overwhelming.

As if everyone I loved had been killed. As if the murderer was gloating over my weakness. The rage was directed at everything around me and everything within me. It had no purpose, no direction. It just threatened to consume me.

'GET A GRIP, YOU FUCKING MORON! Nothing has happened yet! I reprimanded myself.

Suddenly I heard a voice in the air with soul. It was the same voice I had heard before when my soul collapsed.

{NO! NOT AGAIN! NOOOOOOOOOOOO!!!!}

I couldn't understand what was going on, my own arms began to move like someone else's as they tried to find something to kill. I clenched my teeth as every muscle in my body contorted like a rubber band wound too tightly.

"CALM THE FUCK DOWN! THEY ARE FINE!"

{I WILL KILL YOU ALL!} {I'm hungry, when do we eat?} {EVERYTHING HERE IS MINE!!!} {YOU WANT TO STOP ME? ME OF ALL PEOPLE?} {Ah. I don't care anymore.} {HOW CAN SHE BE HAPPY WITHOUT ME?!} {I WANT TO FUCK!!}

Voices filled with either anger, lust, or apathy made the air tremble. What the hell was going on? As I fought to contain the wrath in my body, I saw the 2nd Amendment coming for me. Their voices, however, were distant, as if they were underwater.

"Anyone know what the fuck is going on? Why is the boss acting mental?"

"Nigga looks like the bastards in the Exorcist movies."

"Phillip, what is wrong with El Hefe?"

"He's experiencing another episode of soul collapse," Phillip replied curtly.

"What is that? Oppa, do you know?"

"I don't. Mr. Phillip, is there anything we can do to help?"

"I thought that was just a myth? Is it real? And Patron has experienced them before?"

"Wait, wait, wait. Can someone tell me what the hell is going on? In a way a redneck like me can understand?"

"Mr. Phillip, I want to know too. As the president of LLG, our lives depend on the well-being of Limitless, please tell me the truth."

Even though I was listening to their discussion, I couldn't concentrate. I dropped to my knees and banged my forehead on the floor. The urges I felt were too much to bear. I used everything I had just to stay where I was.

"It's a secret known only to Administration. There is a reason why the Battlefront doesn't encourage excessive hunting. It is because the more souls a reaper acquires, the more his soul succumbs to his desires."

"Say whut? Speak English, nigga!"

"Everything from the professions to the tasks assigned to Reapers were created to ensure that no Reaper kills more than necessary."

"Wait, so that's why Phantoms only defend while Specters invade Hellsgate?"

"Correct, even among Specters, many die not from injuries but from their souls collapsing from the Devil's whispers."

"Hombre, what do you mean by Devil's Whispers?"

"Simply put, whenever a reaper collects a soul, it's emotions are passed on to the reaper. Happiness, sadness and grief. But this is Hell, do you really expect to see happy souls here? The more negative emotions a reaper has, the greater the chance of their soul collapsing."

As I listened to Phillip, my whole body felt like it was about to burst. It was incredibly painful, but I was able to hold on a little thanks to {Limitless}.

"What? Why didn't the mercenaries stop Patron?"

"What makes you think they didn't, Ms.Claire? Limitless is like a fucking storm, do you think anyone can control him? Besides, an order was given to Administration."

"What order, Phillip?" our redneck asked.

"It was from His Majesty the Invincible. 'Leave Limitless alone,' it said."

"..."

Shit, so the reason everyone else barely bothered was because the Battlefront itself enforced such a thing? If even Specters were suffering from what I was feeling right now, it meant that they were a danger to themselves as well.

"Let's ignore the politics for now. Mr. Phillip. You seem to know a lot about soul collapses. How do we fix it? The Commander seems to be suffering."

"I don't know, Mr. Joshua, the last time this happened, the Nightmare punched Limitless out of it. But he is not at the Battlefront right now."

"Um, everyone, in the books I read, a soul collapse manifests in two ways. A need to end life or a need to create it," Claire shared like a know-it-all.

"So white boy needs to kill or fuck?"

"Puta, why not do the honors?"

"If sex is not an option, then let's just use the undead."

"Joshua, what are you saying? We got to get John to the hospital."

"I agree with Scott nigga, it's not like I don't trust boo, but we can't risk getting this wrong."

"Whatever you boys decide, I think we need to do it fast, the LLG are noticing the souls in the air. "

So I just had to let these emotions out? Perfect, I could do that. I pulled out a 1911 and fired into the sky. Then I tried to stand up.

My legs felt heavy like lead and an immense weight crushed me to the ground. I even had a fucking erection that felt like I could cum at the slightest touch.