Utopian System

"Tell me, motherfucker, what would you be willing to do to survive? To protect your own?"

Fathoran froze, Elio's words resonating in his mind like an echo from the past. The acrid smell of smoke and blood filled the air, a grim reminder of the massacre that surrounded them.

A memory, ancient and almost forgotten, surfaced from the depths of his consciousness:

"Have you understood?"

One hundred years ago, a young Fathoran knelt before God, the weight of destiny heavy on his shoulders.

"Yes, Creator, 'family' is the most important," the young Fathoran answered, his voice trembling with reverence and fear.

"Then tell me, little one," God whispered, His voice charged with a power that made the walls tremble, "what would you be willing to do to survive? To protect your own?"

Young Fathoran, his eyes filled with determination and trepidation, responded: "Whatever is necessary, Father. Whatever it takes."

Fathoran, the patriarch of the city, drew himself up to his full height, his eyes burning with fury and pride. The taste of blood filled his mouth, a reminder of the recent hit.

Years of absolute power had accustomed him to everyone bowing before him, and this insolent youth would be no exception. However, deep within his being, a voice whispered that this time was different.

Elio wasn't a simple rebel; he was almost his equal.

Fathoran gazed at Elio, seeing in him a distorted reflection of himself in his youth.

"Whatever is necessary," Fathoran murmured, his voice barely audible over the distant screams.

Elio narrowed his eyes, confusion momentarily replacing the rage. "What?"

Fathoran raised his voice, each word laden with a century's worth of weight. "I said: whatever is necessary. So stop, or you'll regret it." The threat hung in the air, palpable and ominous.

But Elio, his eyes bloodshot and a smile bordering on madness, showed no signs of hesitation.

His hand, extended towards Lotar, began to close slowly. The carbon stakes responded to his will, inexorably approaching Lotar's trembling body. The air hummed with the power of Elio's control, sending shivers down the spines of all present.

"Then so be it," Fathoran declared, his voice cold and resolute.

Fury consumed Fathoran. This insolent brat had crossed a line from which there was no return. With a roar that seemed to shake the very foundations of the city, the Patriarch began to weave his attack.

Fathoran's hands moved in a complex pattern, manipulating the elements to his will. The air around him crackled with contained energy as a small nickel and carbon stake materialized before him.

3C* + Ni* + 2He* + Mana - NiC3(He2) (Weapon Enhancer)

With a sharp movement, Elio clenched his fist.

The stakes converged on Lotar with terrifying speed. There was a choked scream, a wet sound, and then... silence. Lotar's body, motionless, became Elio's true third macabre trophy.

Elio Mana: 3

The scene froze for an instant. Varen and Mordred looked on in horror at their fallen comrade, their faces pale with shock and fear.

Lucien, Selene, and Raelar, though not entirely opposed to the fall of the corrupt Summoners, seemed stunned by the brutality of the act.

With a fluid gesture, Fathoran imbued the stake with corrosive energy, transforming it into a lethal projectile. Without wasting a second, he launched it directly at Elio's heart. The stake cut through the air with a high-pitched whistle, its trajectory deadly and precise.

Fathoran Mana: 10

Elio, still savoring his victory over Lotar, barely had time to react. The world seemed to slow down as he saw the stake approaching.

Instinctively, he generated a carbon barrier in front of him, but to his horror, he watched as the barrier melted before Fathoran's attack. The heat from the dissolving carbon seared his skin, a stark reminder of the power he faced.

Elio Mana: 2

With a desperate move, Elio threw himself to the side.

The stake whistled past him, puncturing his shoulder and tearing a cry of pain from his lips. Blood spurted from the wound, staining his clothes and dripping to the ground. The metallic scent of his own blood filled Elio's nostrils, fueling his rage.

Elio: 241 - 20 crit = 30 Resistance / 171 Armor Resistance

Fathoran wasted no time. His hands were already weaving another attack, determined to end this threat once and for all. The air around him shimmered with heat and power, a testament to the forces he was manipulating.

But Elio, far from being intimidated, felt fury consuming him. The pain in his shoulder only served to fuel his thirst for vengeance. With a cry that seemed more animal than human, he extended his hand towards Mordred.

A giant carbon hand materialized around the Summoner, trapping him in a deadly embrace. Mordred screamed, his eyes wide with terror, the sound of his fear echoing off the nearby buildings.

"Stop!" Fathoran's voice resonated in the street, filled with fury and... fear?

But Elio was beyond reason. The world had narrowed to a singular focus: destroy those who had hurt him and his family.

With a sharp movement, he closed his fist. The carbon hand closed over Mordred, crushing him with brutal force. The Summoner's scream was cut off abruptly, replaced by a terrifying crunch.

Fourth macabre trophy.

Elio Mana: 1

Fathoran, roaring with rage, launched another attack. The air sizzled as his projectile cut through it, headed straight for Elio.

Fathoran Mana: 8

This time, Elio tried to dodge from the start, but the projectile impacted his side, tearing another cry of pain from him. The burning sensation spread through his body, a testament to the power behind Fathoran's attack.

Elio: 201 - 20 crit = 10 Resistance / 151 Armor Resistance

Panting, Elio realized he had only one mana point left. The situation was desperate, but his thirst for vengeance was not yet quenched. With a final effort, he extended his hand towards Varen.

The carbon responded to his call, forming a deadly hand around the last Summoner. Varen, paralyzed by fear, didn't even try to defend himself. His eyes, wide with terror, locked onto Elio's, silently pleading for mercy.

Fathoran, seeing that he was about to lose the last of his own, roared with a fury that seemed to shake the very air. The ground trembled beneath their feet, a physical manifestation of the Patriarch's rage.

His hands moved at an impossible speed, weaving a new combo. The air shimmered around him, distorting like a mirage as he manipulated the elements.

5O* + 4H* + 2Ni* + He* + Mana - Ni2HeO5(H2O)2 (Speed buff mist)

A brilliant mist enveloped him, increasing his speed supernaturally. The world seemed to slow down around Fathoran as he moved, every sense heightened by the power coursing through him.

A helium impact also propelled him, and Fathoran launched himself towards Varen like a comet. The air whistled past him as he raced against time.

Fathoran Mana: 5

Time seemed to slow down as he approached Varen, determined to save him from the fate that Lotar and Mordred had suffered. Every heartbeat felt like an eternity, the tension mounting with each passing millisecond.

Elio, his eyes bloodshot and a maniacal smile on his face, closed his fist. The carbon stakes moved, ready to end Varen's life. The air hummed with the power of Elio's control, the stakes vibrating with deadly intent.

In the last instant, Fathoran managed to push Varen out of the way. The sound of bodies colliding echoed through the street, followed by a gasp of surprise from Varen.

But Fathoran's triumph was ephemeral. In saving Varen, he had put himself directly in the path of the carbon stakes.

There was a moment of absolute silence, as if the entire world held its breath. Then, with a wet, tearing sound, the stakes plunged into Fathoran's body.

Elio Mana: 0