My Talent's Name Is Generator Chapter 773 The Crimson Zone

"Why kill him?" Knight inquired while we floated anew over the shattered island, the ocean continuing to roil through the precise fissures in the terrain beneath us.

"He was going to die regardless," I responded offhandedly, my eyes drifting away already. "I simply hastened the process a tad. Individuals like him always dash straight into their downfall."

Knight offered no rebuttal. He seldom challenged me when I spoke in such a manner.

My focus turned to Shera Ranthor.

The Feran commander remained in his quarters, an ancient parchment spread out before him. I stretched out my senses and scanned its words effortlessly. The content caused my features to harden.

Casualty summaries.

Severe ones.

Demands for backup, pressing yet disguised as standard procedure. And not merely local support. The dispatch openly sought assistance from beyond the Blue Spiral Galaxy.

That detail snagged my interest.

My gaze sharpened upon completing the scan. "Fascinating."

Knight traced my line of sight. "What's the matter?"

"Their troops are hemorrhaging," I explained. "And the threat they're facing, they believe this galaxy can't contain it by itself."

His voice grew keen. "Crimson Zone?"

I affirmed with a nod. "It truly is stirring."

He breathed out deliberately. "We've got scattered intel. It's a prohibited area, sealed off eons past. Lately, it's grown unstable. All the great factions are dispatching squads to seal it."

"And what's lurking within?" I probed.

Knight denied with a shake of his head. "Even most Transcendents lack clearance on that. The only certainty is that whatever dwells there refuses to remain dormant."

I pondered it briefly.

"No more speculation then," I declared.

The splintered island faded under us as I transported us straight into Shera's room. The shift occurred without sound, flawlessly. Shera scarcely noticed our arrival before the void clamped down on him, freezing his motions entirely. Moments after, I wove time across it, decelerating the currents near his form so that even alarm couldn't fully ignite.

I advanced, extended my hand, and seized the parchment from his immobilized grasp. With a quick snap, I flung it toward Knight.

Then I faced Shera once more and positioned myself right before him, locking eyes with his as they bulged futilely against the restraints.

"Let's discuss the Crimson Zone," I stated evenly.

His gaze constricted, the tendons in his jaw clenching while he pushed against the confines. I sensed the opposition vividly.

"It's pointless," I noted serenely. "No need to squander our moments. What's the Crimson Zone truly concealing?"

He offered no reply.

Not a single utterance. Not even a shift in his respiration. His stare held firm on mine, resolute to the edge of defiance, as though muteness served as his trusted barrier.

I observed him a beat longer, then vented a breath from my nostrils.

"Very well."

I kept my tone level. I issued no further warnings. Instead, I invoked the Abyssal Extraction Authority.

The change hit instantly.

Something profound within him surged back fiercely. His restraint shattered and his eyes flared as the Abyssal Extraction Authority gripped hold. Initial traces were faint, slender emerald glyphs emerging from under his flesh like emblems compelled to appear. They lingered for an instant before getting yanked inside, consumed by the Abyss Core without opposition.

That's when dread truly emerged.

His irises expanded abruptly as the drain registered, the gradual, inexorable feeling of his power levels fading.

"So?" I queried, cocking my head a touch.

His lips parted. Shut. Then parted anew.

"Wait," he rasped.

I pressed on.

Additional glyphs ripped loose now, more vivid, thicker, accelerating. His breaths fractured, frame quivering even under the void's hold.

"Wait—no, wait," he stammered, the phrases spilling freely, defenseless. "Stop."

I halted.

The draw eased, teetering on the brink of resuming. The Abyss lingered, tolerant.

I connected eyes with him once more.

Fear gleamed there now. Stark and undeniable.

"Talk," I murmured softly.

He gulped noticeably, the action evident despite the void's weight upon him.

"The Crimson Zone is a forbidden—"

"Spare me the title," I interrupted smoothly. "Deliver the actual facts. What's really concealed inside."

His jaw locked, then relaxed as comprehension dawned that quietness would worsen his plight.

"We don't know," he rushed out. "At least, I don't. Just the uppermost echelons and the System do."

I examined him briefly. "Is that the case?"

He dipped his head. "Yes. Yet the scariest aspect isn't the secrets within. It's its location."

"Continue."

"It spans every galaxy," he whispered. "Beyond the Blue Spiral. The Prime Galaxy harbors it too."

I flickered my eyelids and shot a look at Knight. He negated subtly. This revelation surprised him equally.

"So it's omnipresent," I muttered. "Linked to the Eternals?"

"No," Shera denied at once. "It outdates them. The Crimson Zone predates the incursion. Some view it as a portal. Others as a wound."

"A portal to where?"

He faltered. "To another power. One that matches the Eternals."

A hush lingered momentarily.

"Anything more?" I pressed.

"Transcendents fall short," he stated. "Whatever unfolds there… Saints mark the baseline. Only Saints enter and return."

I inclined my head gradually, etching each syllable into recall.

"Appreciated," I said. "Now share another tidbit. I learned of your assembly. You schemed against me."

His eyes bulged. "No. Not at all."

I arched a brow. "Then what transpired?"

"A conference," he blurted. "On forming a pact with you."

"If that's your claim," I responded.

The Abyss roused once more.

"What are you up to?" he gasped.

"Merely this," I intoned steadily. "Your response doesn't ring true."

Emerald glyphs burst forth again, slimmer yet keener, and dissolved into the Abyss Core. Shera recoiled, eyes fluttering as his inhale stuttered.

"Wait," he urged. "I'll confess."

I ceased.

"We aimed to collect data on you," he conceded. "Nothing beyond that."

"By what means?"

He paused, then uttered a lone term.

"Hollow Star."

A grin curved my mouth.

"Now that," I whispered, "brings good tidings."

His face grew taut. "You're not furious?"

"Quite the opposite," I countered. "I'm intrigued. Have you reached out to them yet?"

He affirmed.

I extended my reach, yanked off his storage ring, and rifled its contents. Ample resources filled it, but one item drew instant notice: a tawny emblem bearing solely the Feran crest, its aura imprint still vibrant.

"This one?" I questioned.

He nodded once more.

"Rudy's Bar," he murmured. "In the capital city. That's the contact point."

I pocketed the emblem and regarded him anew.

"That," I noted, "proves immensely useful."

I spared a glance at Knight.

His tail whipped ahead from Shera's rear in one smooth arc, impaling the Feran's skull outright. The blow landed so purely that Shera lacked even a second to grasp the event. From vitality to void, his form sagged, existence snuffed without struggle.

I avoided eyeing the remains.

"Time to move," I declared evenly. "Further matters await handling."

The void bent anew as I carried Knight along, the room dissolving in a flash. Even in transit, my mind dwelled on the revelations gained.

The Crimson Zone.

A force predating the Eternals. Spanning galaxies. Demanding Saints merely to endure its core.

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