CHAPTER 296: ETERNITY OF TORTURE
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"I need to get away! I can't defeat him!"
Emperor Augustus screamed internally, panic crashing against the walls of his mind. A portal tore open behind him, a shimmering escape route formed through desperation.
But a cold voice halted him in place.
"Where do you think you're going?" Greg asked, his tone devoid of emotion. He reached out, grasping Augustus's wrist with mechanical precision—and then—
Snap!
The sound echoed like a gunshot.
Augustus let out a sharp gasp, pain flashing across his face as his wrist was cleanly shattered—but Greg's face remained unmoving, like he'd just swatted a fly.
"I'm still thinking," Greg muttered, eyes dull and unreadable. "I can't decide what to do with you. I want you to suffer… more than any living being has ever suffered. I want you to feel pain beyond imagination."
"Hah! No amount of pain can break me," Augustus spat back, forcing a grin through gritted teeth. "I am the Emperor—do you think I haven't endured hell?"
"Is that so?" Greg murmured.
He took a step forward, his voice soft, yet dripping with restrained fury.
"You know… only one man has ever pushed me this far. And even he didn't make me feel this angry."
Greg locked eyes with Augustus.
"I finally know what to do to you."
Then, in a tone colder than death itself, he spoke:
"Will manifestation."
The world around them warped instantly.
In the blink of an eye, both Greg and Augustus were pulled into Greg's inner world—a place where Greg's will and imagination dictated absolute law.
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Augustus stumbled as he landed, his eyes darting around—and what he saw shook him to his core.
An endless horizon stretched before him. A starless sky loomed overhead. The very fabric of the world pulsed with ancient power.
"H-How…?" Augustus muttered, his face frozen in disbelief. "How can someone's inner world be this… huge?!"
The world was massive—at least twice the size of the sun.
(Reminder: The sun's diameter is 109 times that of Earth. Thousands of Earths could fit inside it.)
Yet here he stood, inside Greg's will—a reality that dwarfed even celestial bodies. Augustus spread his senses outward, attempting to find the boundary, to feel something…
But the world stretched endlessly. No edges. No limits.
It was impossible.
The inner worlds of powerful beings were typically no larger than a city, maybe a planet for the elite.
But this?
This was divine.
"You should focus less on the size of my world," Greg's voice echoed calmly, "and more on what I'm going to do to you inside it."
Augustus turned slowly. Greg stood there—expression blank, arms behind his back, eyes like dead galaxies.
"Fun fact, dear Augustus…" Greg began softly. "The human body has approximately 200 pain receptors per square centimeter."
He stepped closer.
"Now imagine I increase the sensitivity of all those receptors… by a billion."
Greg paused, letting the words sink in.
"Under normal conditions, that level of pain would kill you instantly. Your brain would shut down, overwhelmed. But I won't let that happen."
His voice dropped.
"I will strengthen your mind—so it doesn't break."
"You'll beg for death, Augustus… but it won't come. Not today. Not for eternity."
A shiver ran through Augustus.
But what truly made his heart race wasn't the threat—it was Greg's face.
Emotionless. No rage. No thrill. Not even satisfaction.
A man speaking such cruelty… without even blinking.
He isn't human…
"I—I shouldn't be scared!" Augustus barked to himself, forcing a smile. "He's bluffing! This is fear tactics. He's no god. He can't really do this!"
Greg's head tilted slightly.
"…It's nice to see you smiling in triumph, believing I can't do it."
He raised his hand.
"Well then—time to give you a shocker."
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"Pain receptor sensitivity: Increase by one billion.
Brain reinforcement: Activate."
The world obeyed.
Augustus gasped. He felt it immediately—the sharp clarity in his mind, like his brain had been unlocked to experience everything more vividly, more intensely.
And then…
A tap.
Greg's finger pressed lightly against Augustus's shoulder.
"AAAAAAAAAARRGGHHHHHHH!!!"
Augustus's scream ripped through the air, inhuman in pitch and depth.
The pain—
No words could describe it. Not burning. Not tearing. Not slicing.
It was everything at once. An incomprehensible surge of agony that made even the air feel like it was flaying his flesh.
He collapsed, shuddering, eyes bloodshot.
"P-please!" he gasped. "End me! I'm sorry! Just—please—don't hurt me anymore!"
The once proud Emperor—broken by a simple touch.
Greg stared down at him, unmoved.
"You're begging too soon, dear friend. I've only just begun."
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With a mere thought, hundreds of sharp, silver pins materialized around Augustus, glinting like death itself.
"No…" Augustus breathed.
He didn't need an explanation.
He knew what Greg was about to do.
"Don't do this to me! Please! I beg you! LET ME GO!!"
His voice cracked. Panic turned into hysteria.
But Greg didn't flinch. He didn't speak. He didn't care.
One by one, the pins pierced into Augustus's body.
Each slid deep, embedding itself until only the heads remained above the skin.
Each was followed by a roar of pain so deep it sounded like the wailing of a tortured soul.
Pierce.
Scream.
Pierce.
Scream.
Pierce.
Scream.
Over and over.
Augustus convulsed. The agony was indescribable. Every nerve in his body screamed. The reinforced brain kept him conscious, but that only made it worse.
And Greg…
Greg watched with dead eyes.
No joy.
No guilt.
No anger.
He had locked his emotions away. It was easier this way. Cleaner.
Greg willed an infinite duration of time within a single second for Augustus. In that second, stretched and multiplied endlessly within Greg's inner world, Augustus would continue to suffer the most unimaginable torment—forever. While only a moment passed for Greg outside, for Augustus, it became an eternal nightmare carved into each millisecond.
With a final thought, Greg ended the wretched emperor's life. And yet, Augustus's agony didn't stop at death. His mind, trapped within the echo of that infinite second, remained conscious—forever bound to the pain, endlessly looped.
It was over.
Greg stepped out of his will manifestation and returned to the apocalypse world. But there was no satisfaction. No surge of triumph. No relief. Nothing.
He felt... empty.
The revenge he had once imagined would bring him closure felt bitter and hollow. When he avenged his parents, it had brought a measure of peace—a quiet stillness in his heart. But this? The vengeance for Rebecca? It left behind only a gaping silence.
He couldn't afford to feel. Not now. If he let even a sliver of emotion through, he feared it would consume him whole.
Lilith stood waiting, her face solemn as she met his gaze. The battlefield behind her was quiet, the air heavy with grief.
"Where are the others?" Greg asked softly, his voice devoid of emotion.
"In my realm...," Lilith replied
"Let's go back," Greg said. "We need to prepare a funeral… for Jessica. For Ezekiel. His family needs to be informed of his passing too."
He paused, his gaze momentarily distant.
"From now on, I'll take full responsibility for Ezekiel's family," he continued, his voice steady. "We all will. It's the least we owe him."
Turning his back to the desolate sky, Greg added, "I'll be in our world. Let the others know."
And just like that, his figure vanished from the battlefield—leaving behind only the lingering weight of loss and the ache of what couldn't be undone.