{Chapter: 245 The Shining Quadruple State}
In the heart of the crater, the last wisps of smoke curled away into the wind. As the dust cleared, a collective gasp rippled through the ranks of Asgard's warriors.
There, kneeling in the shattered earth, was William—his clothes torn to shreds, his bare flesh crisscrossed with deep, bleeding gashes. Streams of crimson trailed down his arms and legs, staining the golden soil. His chest heaved with effort, yet his eyes burned with defiance, not fear.
He slowly stood, blood dripping from his mouth. His voice was rough but steady. "Disappointed?" he growled, spitting blood to the side. "I'm still alive."
An Asgardian soldier's voice broke the silence. "What the hell is this man made of? He took a full blast from the All-Father!"
"Not even Surtur survived Odin's wrath," muttered another. "What kind of monster is he?"
Even Odin's ancient eyes narrowed in surprise. This mortal had withstood the fury of Gungnir, the spear forged in the core of a dying star. His survival defied all reason, all prophecy.
Then William laughed—low at first, then rising into a triumphant, guttural cackle. "Hahahaha! Does it scare you? That I'm still breathing? You thought this was the end?" His voice thundered as he rose into the air, floating above the crater like a blood-drenched specter. "No… the real battle begins now."
The gods and warriors looked on in stunned silence.
Volstagg's face twisted in disbelief. "What's he doing now?!"
Fandral shook his head. "Whatever it is, it can't be good."
"Let him try," Sif said coldly, though her voice trembled. "The All-Father is here. No one defeats him."
Floating nearly fifty meters above the scorched ground, William cast a wild grin toward Odin. His voice echoed like thunder across the city.
"Now, it's my turn to perform. Brace yourselves, Asgardians. Your glorious realm may not survive what comes next."
"Arrogance!" Odin's voice boomed like a war drum.
William's eyes blazed. "You want arrogance? I'll show you what real arrogance looks like!"
His body arched backward, and he let out a soul-rattling roar that cracked the sky.
"TRANSFORMER QUADRUPLE!"
Golden fire erupted from his body like a supernova. The ground beneath him trembled as metallic shards burst from his skin—Transformium particles, pure and raw, glimmering silver-white before igniting into molten gold under his golden aura. The very atmosphere convulsed as space itself bent in the wake of his transformation.
A blue light flashed, and a large number of Transformium element particles were released. These silver-white transformation element particles were changed by the golden flames emitted by William, from silver-white to gold.
A storm of golden particles spiraled upward, climbing like a tornado into the heavens. Lightning surged through the storm, jagged bolts of sky-blue electricity lashing out in all directions. The crackling was deafening, like the roar of ancient titans awakening.
Suddenly, five streams of color split from the vortex: light blue, blood red, aquamarine, dusty loess, and icy white. They cast an eerie brilliance over Asgard, painting its shining towers and golden halls in warlike hues. People across the city shielded their eyes, their minds on the brink of panic.
Except for a few people like Odin.
Even Odin took a cautious step back, a chill crawling down his spine. The power—whatever it was—was immense… and unnatural.
The colors shifted before the eyes of gods and mortals alike.
—Light blue turned to cyan gold.
—Red shifted into blood-gold.
—Aquamarine became water-gold.
—Loess hardened into earth-gold.
—And pure white was reborn as gleaming platinum.
Then came the scream.
"AHHHHHHHHH!"
The skies ripped open with William's roar, shaking mountains and splitting clouds. The golden storm spiraled tighter and tighter, condensing toward a single point shrinking madly towards the middle.
And then, in a blinding explosion of light—
"TRANSFORMERS SHINING QUADRUPLE — ARRIVE!"
A golden colossus descended from the heavens.
Gasps tore from every throat. The beast stood a hundred meters tall, burning like a living sun. It wasn't a man anymore—it was a titan forged from chaos and fury.
The head gleamed with cyan gold, regal and cold.
The right arm, a brutal column of blood-red gold, pulsed like a beating heart.
The left arm shimmered with water-gold, alive with rippling energy.
The right leg thudded with the weight of earth-gold, every movement a quake.
The left leg shone in divine platinum, ethereal and flawless.
And the core—his torso and chest—was pure blazing gold, a furnace of destruction.
He wielded a golden greatsword longer than a dragon's wingspan. It hummed with ancient power, arcs of lightning surging across its edge, slicing the air with every twitch.
The warriors of Asgard stood frozen, paralyzed by awe and terror.
Fandral whispered, "Gods preserve us... what is that?"
Odin stood still, expression unreadable. Yet in his chest, for the first time in eons, a sliver of fear took root.
"You are William... it's astonishing. Your existence defies even my perception," Odin muttered, his eyes narrowed as he stared into the heavens where the golden giant loomed.
A low hum thundered through the skies. From the horizon, a colossal warship—over a thousand meters in length—pierced the clouds, flanked by countless smaller escort vessels. This was Asgard's pride: a god-tier warship, forged by ancient knowledge of magic and science.
Though famed for their mastery of magic and martial skill, the Asgardians had also long embraced technology. Magic, technology, and warrior tradition blended into one unbreakable trinity. Compared to Earth, Asgard's advancements in science alone outpaced human civilization by centuries—if not millennia.
William gazed at the advancing fleet, eyes glowing with untamed power. "So this... is Asgardian technology?" he said with a mocking grin. "Very well—bring it. Let me test this so-called divine might."
As the massive shadow of the god-ship grew closer, William's already monstrous form—100 meters tall—began to expand once more. Metal creaked, energy crackled, and space itself shivered as his form grew... 150 meters... 300... and finally, he reached a towering 500 meters, blotting out the sun, his golden body blazing like a second star.
"Holy Helheim," Volstagg gasped. "He's still growing?! He's already terrifying enough!"
"This is madness," Fandral murmured, his voice edged with fear. "He's not just powerful—he's an anomaly... a force beyond reason."
Sif clenched her fists, her knuckles white. "No man should wield such strength."
Thor said nothing, but his eyes betrayed his inner struggle. Jealousy. Frustration. Determination. I must surpass him... I must…
With a thunderous roar, William lifted his weapon. The golden longsword in his hand began to surge and mutate, lengthening and growing in size until it became a blade 1,500 meters long—a weapon so massive it could carve mountains and split seas. Lightning surged across its surface like veins of wrath.
Meanwhile, the god-tier battleship began to pulse ominously. Energy gathered at its prow, forming a blinding sphere of condensed force. The very air warped, space buckled, and the skies above Asgard darkened under the oppressive weight of its charging cannon.
And then—
BOOM!!
A sound like the birth of a star exploded across the heavens. A monstrous beam of blue energy—over 100 meters wide—erupted from the warship's bow, tearing through the sky like the lance of an angry god. It streaked toward William, its power enough to pulverize a moon.
Across the golden halls and shining streets of Asgard, people stopped in horror. This was their strongest weapon. Their final deterrent. And yet... deep down, a terrible question echoed in every heart:
Would it be enough? As that man had survived too much!
William responded not with fear, but fury. His golden eyes burned like dying suns. With a battle-cry that made the sky scream, he raised his titanic sword high into the air.
"RRRAAAHHHH!!!"
The sword came down.
The golden blade cleaved through the beam of energy like a butcher's cleaver through rotting flesh. It didn't stop or struggle—it cut. Sparks of blue flame burst along the edges, and the column of divine destruction was split in two, diverted away from his body.
The bisected energy blasts slammed into the ocean behind William with catastrophic impact.
KA-BOOM!!
The sea erupted. Twin geysers, each hundreds of meters tall, exploded upward as though Poseidon himself had been impaled. Shockwaves tore through the waters, generating monstrous tsunamis that surged toward the shining coastline of Asgard. But their buildings, forged of sacred alloys and sealed with ancient runes, held firm. The people braced but did not break.
Yet the true terror had just begun.
William's form blurred.
One moment he was towering over the battlefield—the next, he was gone.
Gasps echoed. Eyes widened.
"What... where did he go?!" someone shouted.
Odin's expression changed instantly. He knew.
"Get the battleship out of there—NOW!" he barked and vanished, teleporting away in a flash of golden light.
Then, without warning—
BOOM!
A deafening sonic shock split the sky. William reappeared, descending from the clouds like divine judgment, his golden blade raised high above the trembling god-tier warship.
The blade crackled with light, storm-wrapped, bleeding divine fury from every edge. His voice rang out like a war bell across the heavens.
"TO HEL WITH YOUR SHIP—AND FUCK YOUR PRETTY MOTHERS!"
With a roar that shattered the sound barrier, he brought the sword down.
CRASH!!
Steel screamed.
*****
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