My Talent's Name Is Generator Chapter 754 Aftermath

Countless abominations vanished in a flash as the shockwave surged past them, their forms crumbling away before any noise or idea could emerge. Myriad phantoms trailed behind, their wails abruptly silenced when the blast engulfed them entirely.

The Ferans fared far worse.

"DEFEND!" bellowed their top commander while the broken chunks of the asteroid hurtled wildly toward their spot, pieces ripping across the emptiness like a barrage of meteors.

I clucked my tongue.

This didn't need to happen.

I triggered the Right to Anchor.

My awareness expanded sharply and completely, seizing hold of each fragment simultaneously. Every chunk of stone. Every radiant leftover still hurtling forward.

"Stop."

The wreckage halted in mid-air, hovering motionless throughout the vacuum in utter calm. All kinetic force evaporated as though it had never been there, movement robbed and rejected. What was meant to be total destruction turned into a quiet array of luminous rocks, dangling safely without threat.

The Ferans gaped.

The fight had ended already.

Alerts slid softly over my sight as the dust settled from the chaos.

[Level Up!]

[Level 417 → 433]

That summed it up.

A brief spark of astonishment hit me before it slipped away. For eliminating so many abominations and transcendent phantoms, the reward felt... underwhelming. Advanced levels truly operated on another plane.

I sneered to myself inside and waved off the alert.

Yet another message appeared soon after, linked to the seized Eternal.

I confirmed it right away.

A radiant gateway appeared behind the wrapped form, its glow keen and exact, yanking the Eternal inside in a blink. The gateway shut down at once, erasing any trace.

My eyes stayed fixed on the vacant spot where it occurred.

I refused to allow any ideas to surface.

Next, I advanced.

Space bent effortlessly, placing me right before the Feran command deck. My summons materialized one after another behind me, their aura building a subtle barrier of force that caused the nearby Feran troops to stiffen involuntarily.

The commander held firm.

He towered high, with wide shoulders, his tiger-hybrid shape only halfway shown. Subtle stripes traced his arms and throat, shimmering faintly with Essence, as his piercing golden gaze examined me without fear, just raw astonishment. His armor displayed the Feran emblem, charred and fractured yet holding together.

He regarded me quietly for several more seconds.

"Kepal Ranthor," he stated, tone even amid the lingering disorder around us. "Commander of this fort."

His golden eyes tightened a bit as he assessed me once more.

"May I ask who you are?" he inquired.

"Billion Ironhart. Order Of Absolute." I answered.

A murmur swept the Feran lines as the name circulated. The commander's ears flicked, his face moving from surprise to a sterner grasp of the situation.

"So it's true," he muttered. "Dragos. The Grade Four Rift. The rumors weren't exaggerations."

"You are right," I responded steadily.

I looked beyond him, toward the injured, toward the weary warriors still maintaining guard positions more from routine than need. "We interfered," I continued flatly. "I hope you don't mind."

For an instant, I figured he might flare up.

Instead, Ranthor shook his head gradually, a quick exhale escaping him. "Mind?" he said. "No. Of course not."

He drew himself up, stance now official, claws pulling back a touch as his energy calmed. "Closing a rift is never something to object to. Especially not like this." His gaze darted back to the vacuum where the rift once stood. "No casualties on our side. Not a single ship lost. I can not ask anything more."

A hint of ease colored his words, hidden under the duty-bound front.

"I'm grateful," he said. "Truly. This rift has bled us for years."

I inclined my head once. "Then our goals align."

He paused, then questioned, "Was this… intentional? Choosing a Feran-held rift?"

"I chose a Grade 4 Rift in Sector Zero," I answered. "Ownership wasn't a factor."

That drew a brief, startled chuckle from him.

Before he could reply, the area of the former rift started shifting.

A weight pressed down, faint yet undeniable.

I sensed it right off.

The System stirred.

Six massive runes appeared in the void, with three positioned above the rift's former site and three below. They carried an ancient vibe, neutral-toned but unyielding in shape, each rune bigger than a warship, turning gradually in flawless harmony.

The Feran troops inhaled sharply.

"What is that?" someone murmured.

"The System," Ranthor replied softly, wonder creeping into his voice unbidden.

The runes lowered.

The jagged borders of space pushed back for a moment, trembling as if reluctant to mend, until the runes drew their pattern tighter.

Gradually, deliberately, the rift closed up.

Once the last trace of warp disappeared, the runes faded into oblivion, restoring a flawless, unbroken expanse of void.

Quietness ensued.

Ranthor released a breath he'd obviously held back. "It's really gone."

"Yes," I said. "Completely. It is a fascinating sight for sure."

My thoughts hummed as the rune designs etched into my awareness. I stored every element in my mind, already pondering them deeply. I aimed to seal a rift on my own without relying on the System. Or perhaps even create one myself.

Kepal faced me again, his look now mixed. Thanks, wariness, and another layer underneath. Scheming, maybe.

"I won't pretend this won't reach our headquarters," he said. "Or that certain people won't have… opinions."

"I expect they will," I replied.

He bowed his head slightly, courteous amid the strain. "Regardless of politics, you saved lives today. Feran lives. That won't be forgotten."

The quiet hadn't quite taken hold when the portal on the Feran's asteroid trembled.

Space wavered, twisted for a split second, and then shapes emerged one after another. Ferans. Every one. Their energies were restrained but clear, six Transcendents spreading out on instinct as they crossed over. In the middle loomed an elder tiger-kin, his markings dulled by time, and a somewhat stooped build.

They dashed ahead as a group and halted nearby.

The elder Feran's eyes scanned the field once, absorbed the patched void of the old rift, the wrecked asteroid, my summons at my back, and then fixed on my features. His eyes widened a touch.

"…Are you from the Order of Absolute?" he asked.

I nodded.

He glanced back at the blank area of the past rift, obviously about to comment, then held back. He cleared his throat, regaining poise.

"Thank you," he said instead. "For closing this rift." He tilted his head. "I am Shera Ranthor. May I ask how you came upon this battlefield?"

"We were drifting through the sector," I replied evenly. "Came across the rift. Decided to help."

Shera examined me a bit longer, then nodded, real thanks shining in his eyes. "In that case," he said, "I would formally invite you to Feradros."

I smiled slightly. "It would be my honor."