My Talent's Name Is Generator

Chapter 824  The Clash

Spatial matrices destabilized mid-formation. The crafts shuddered violently as Essence flooded their cores. One after another, the vessels ruptured from within. Explosions tore through launch platforms, fragments of metal and crystal scattering across the skyline as the activation sequences collapsed under the surge.

Several crafts had already begun to lift, but the ripple caught them mid-ascent. Their engines flared erratically before detonating in blinding flashes, falling back toward the ground in burning debris.

The fluctuations of long-range teleportation attempts faltered and died.

”No one would be leaving.” I said and my voice echoed across the entire city.

The anger in my chest did not fade. If anything, it sharpened.

I raised my hand slowly and spread my fingers.

Space responded.

A second ripple moved outward, this one far more controlled. It expanded and started covering the entire city.

When the ripple completed its circuit, the entire city was enclosed.

No teleportation anchor could form. No spatial corridor could stabilize. No external gate could pierce inward.

From above, it would appear as though nothing had changed. The sky remained blue, the grass still green. But the city had become a sealed chamber.

I lowered my hand.

Below me, panic intensified. The realization spread quickly among those sensitive enough to detect it. Their exits had vanished. Their escape routes had been erased.

I lowered my gaze to the old Naga kneeling before me. His body was barely holding together after the devouring, scales cracked, breath uneven, yet his eyes still carried a desperate calculation.

”Go ahead and use it,” I said calmly. ”I know you have it. Do not worry. I will not stop you.”

His breathing grew heavier. For a moment, uncertainty flickered across his face, but desperation won over hesitation. His trembling hand reached into his storage ring and pulled out a small brown token.

The instant it appeared, I felt it clearly.

It carried the Systemʼs presence. The old Naga stared at the token in his palm for a brief second as if weighing the cost, then crushed it between his fingers.

The fragment shattered into dust.

Nothing happened.

For several heartbeats, the sky remained clear, the sealed city silent.

Then the air above the city fractured.

A crack spread across the sky itself, thin at first and then widening, as if it was made of glass under pressure. Light leaked through the opening, not natural sunlight but a dense golden radiance that washed over the city in expanding waves.

”You are here,” I muttered, my eyes lifting.

The golden light thickened, pouring downward like a descending veil. Clouds dissolved where it passed. The spatial lock I had constructed trembled as something far greater pressed against it from above.

Then I saw it.

A colossal finger, formed of condensed golden energy, began descending from the fractured sky. It was the same construct I had encountered before, vast beyond proportion, its surface covered in shifting lines that resembled runic patterns yet moved like living circuits.

It belonged to one and only the System.

Or at least a projection of it.

The old Naga let out something between a laugh and a sob. ”You… you cannot stand against that,” he rasped.

I did not look at him.

My attention remained on the descending construct as the golden glow intensified, pressing against the world below.

The finger lowered further, aiming directly toward my position.

The green Essence of the planet recoiled instinctively from its approach, as if recognizing a foreign command overriding its natural flow.

As I looked up at the descending construct, one question refused to leave my mind.

Why?

Why was the System intervening like this? This was direct intervention, a projection large enough to crack the sky of an entire planet.

What could possibly force it to move like this?

I was not ready to accept that the System stood against the Prime Universe. Everything I had learned, everything Amun had said, pointed in the opposite direction. It was a governing entity. A mechanism built to assist the First Executor. It was not meant to take sides in petty conflicts.

And yet here it was.

Answering a token to shield the Hollow Star and act as their guardian.

That did not fit.

There was no simple bargain that could compel something of this scale to respond like a hired protector. Even Amun, chained as he was yet still terrifying in scope, had not spoken as though he could command the System at will. He negotiated. He set conditions. He did not summon fingers from the sky.

So what did Hollow Star possess? What agreement had been made?

Or was this not protection at all?

”I will not be running this time, and it is thanks to you only, System,” I said quietly as the golden construct continued its descent.

I lifted my hand.

Prarambh appeared within my grasp.

The moment my fingers closed around the hilt, the sword reacted. The crimson line running along its black blade flickered once, then deepened further as if recognizing the intent forming within me. I drew the blade upward in a single decisive motion.

The violet Essence circulating through my body lurched violently.

It felt as though a massive gravitational force had seized it from within, pulling it toward the sword. What began as a steady flow became a torrent. Essence rushed from my channels, surged through my core, and poured into Prarambh with accelerating speed. The draw intensified beyond my initial expectation. Within a heartbeat, nearly ninety percent of my total reserves had been siphoned away.

The blade vibrated in my hand. Crimson light erupted along its length.

Then the slash manifested. It was a vast crescent of condensed force, stretching as wide as the city below, tearing through the sky as it rose. The air split apart in its wake. Space itself rippled outward from the pressure of its passage as the crimson wave rushed upward toward the descending golden finger.

The two forces collided high above the sealed city.

For a fraction of a second, the sky became a canvas of opposing colors—gold pressing downward, crimson surging upward.

The impact detonated outward in a blinding flash.

The golden construct trembled. Cracks spread across its surface where the slash struck, jagged lines racing along the length of the descending finger. The runic circuits flickered erratically as the crimson energy bit deep into its structure.

The force of the collision sent shockwaves across the atmosphere. Buildings far below shattered. The ground quaked as displaced air slammed outward in concentric rings.

My body remained suspended in the air, though the drain of Essence left my limbs heavy. Prarambh hummed in my grip, its red line blazing brightly as it pushed against the golden projection.