In the vast void of space, the battlefield was set. On one side stood Edgar, the colossal, two-toned Legion-Born, his crooked red smile a permanent fixture of insanity.

He was a living siege machine, his fists, each the size of a star, relentlessly, smashing against the invisible barrier of Sunny's God's Domain.

With every single impact, Sunny felt a trillion faith points vanish. It was a war of attrition, a battle of resources, and his enemy had just revealed a terrifying strength.

On the other side, Adam and the sixteen elite Gods of the Pantheon had successfully subdued the other twenty-six demon gods, their combined power overwhelming the lesser demons.

But now they could only watch, as their Emperor engaged in a duel he could not seem to win.

Sunny's mind, and the minds of his fourteen clones, were a vortex of calculations.

The revelation from his God's Eye had been a chilling one. Edgar's size was the key; a key to see the amount of stored power he possess.

And with every punch he threw, he was spending that power, his body shrinking by a minuscule, almost imperceptible, amount.

'We can't attack him, or he'll just steal our power and return it. But we can't defend forever, or he'll beat us into bankruptcy,' Sunny thought, his mind racing. 'Unless… unless I can outlast him.'

But this thought was terrifying. At the current rate, Edgar had enough stored power to punch for days. Sunny, even with his quadrillions, would be bled dry in a matter of hours.

He needed to find a way to accelerate the process, to make Edgar burn his fuel faster.

And then, a new, desperate, and terrifying plan began to form. He needed more power. He needed more of himself.

He turned his mental gaze to Adam. "Adam, I have a plan. But I need your help. I need you to bless me with your Soul Splitting talent. Now."

Adam, who had been analyzing the battle with a growing sense of dread, didn't hesitate.

He knew what Sunny was asking. He nodded, a silent gesture, and his divine form teleported instantly from the chaotic side-battle to stand directly beside Sunny.

He placed his hand on the Emperor's shoulder.

Sunny felt the familiar, invasive, feeling of a new, divine law being etched into his very being. A moment later, the SSS-Grade talent was his.

"Something is better than nothing, I guess," Sunny muttered. He knew this "blessed" version of the talent wouldn't be enhanced by his Skill-Resonance.

It wouldn't be the 6-part or 8-part split he had dreamed of. It would be Adam's original, a perfect copy.

He looked at Edgar, who was still punching, still draining his lifeblood, trillion by trillion.

"Here goes nothing," Sunny whispered. He took a deep breath. And he activated Soul Splitting.

The pain was slow at first as the soul stretched, and then it began to increase exponentially, as the tear started to appear in his soul.

It was the feeling of his entire existence, his consciousness, his I AM, being grabbed by two invisible hands and being torn in half.

It was an agony so profound, so absolute, that his divine form, which had stood impassive against the Void Beast, convulsed.

A scream, a sound of torment, erupted from his soul, a sound that made Adam and the sixteen other Gods recoil in horror.

His past, his present, his very identity flashed before his eyes.

He saw himself as a lonely child in an orphanage on Endor, meticulously cleaning, his only desire to not be a burden.

He saw himself as a sixteen-year-old, a new delivery man, feeling the rain on his face for the first time as a "free" adult.

He saw the cold, dark void, the blue panel, the birth of Nova, the terror of the demon attack. He saw the awe on Adam's face, the loyalty in Ragnok's eyes, the trust of six billion Gods.

This pain was a thousand times worse than the fear he had felt in the demonic realm.

This was the first true, all-consuming agony of his life. He felt his mind, his sanity, begin to crack. He felt a dark, seductive whisper from the depths of his own being.

'It's not worth it.'

'Just let go.'

'Death is better than this. Death is peace.'

'Your old life was so much simpler. So much… quieter.'

"SHUT UP!" Sunny's own, true will roared, silencing the traitorous thoughts. His hand, in a spasm of agony, shot up and grabbed his own cosmic hood, tearing it back. His mask too fell away because of the convulsions.

The Gods of the Pantheon, for the first time, saw their Emperor.

They saw a man. A man with features so perfect they seemed unreal, his skin dark and flawless.

But his hair… his hair was not the black of his mortal life. It was a medium length white, a display of the eons of accelerated time his clones had already endured.

He tore at his own white hair, his fingers digging into his scalp, a desperate attempt to use a lesser pain to distract from the greater torment.

It didn't work. In the face of his soul being ripped in two, the pain of pulling out his own hair was nothing.

'Just a little longer…' he thought, his God's Eye peering into his own soulscape.

He could see it. The line. His soul was halfway torn, a shimmering, agonizing fissure of light. He just had to endure the same agony for a few moments more.

The pain surged again, a fresh wave of annihilation. His vision blurred. He saw the faces of his creations.

He saw Nova, his proud, powerful firstborn. He saw Mammon, his cunning, greedy demigod. He saw Thea, his perfect system and all the other DemiGods he created.

He saw the trillions of lifeforms in Veridia, in his new universe, all of them happy as they lived their normal mundane life, believing in their protector, their Emperor.

'If I die now,' he thought, the thought a burning fire, 'the barrier of the God's Domain collapses. Edgar wins. Adam dies. The Pantheon shatters. And all of them… all of my creations… will be devoured.'

The love he felt, the paternal care for the civilization he had built, surged through him. It was a reason to endure it. It was a fuel, an anchor.

His hand, which had been tearing at his own hair, fell away. He stood up straight in the void, his divine form, though convulsing, now radiated an defiant will.

He pulled his cosmic hood back over his head, and put on his mask which was floating in the Space, hiding his pained, human face, becoming the Emperor once more.

He looked at Veridia, a beautiful blue-green marble in his protection. He could feel the worried, terrified gazes of his demigods, who were watching this all unfold.

He could feel their powerlessness, their desperate desire to help him, a desire that was itself a form of faith.

He smiled, a bloody smile behind his mask. And he pulled.

The final snap as his soul tore in two was a sound that echoed in the deepest, most silent corners of the cosmos.

The pain… vanished, replaced by a sudden, strange, and profound sense of completion.

He was still himself. But he was also… other.

He looked at Edgar, his gaze, which had been a storm of agony, now sharpening to a point of icy focus.

The Soul Splitting was done. He now had two souls, two minds, two wellsprings of will.

"Come out," Sunny, the main soul, the Emperor, ordered.

And in response to his own command, a second figure, an ethereal, shimmering duplicate of God Cosmos, stepped out of his physical body, standing beside him in the space.

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