(UPDATE) AITA After I drilled a hole clean through him. Then the sky opened up

(READ PREVIOUS POST I MADE)

So yeah… a year ago I became “The Gravekeeper,” and for once in my life, I mattered. I helped solve cold cases with whispers from the soil, guided lost souls, even exposed hidden crimes. I thought I’d finally found peace—until Dove showed up.

Dove isn’t just some lunatic. He’s a fanatic.

Tall, pale, always wearing this ridiculous porcelain bird mask. Said death wasn’t meant to be understood, only obeyed. Called what I do “sacrilege.” According to him, I was disturbing the sacred balance—cheating the reaper, stealing the silence from the dead.

He didn’t just believe it. He enforced it.

I first met him outside a hospital where a mother begged me to speak to her son’s spirit. Just as I reached out, Dove appeared like smoke and ripped the voice straight out of the soil. No whisper, no echo—just silence. He looked at me and said, “You hear the dead. I silence them.”

We clashed in the old graveyard two nights later. It was full-on paranormal warfare. My powers bent the dirt and stone. His unraveled them. Everything I summoned, he countered. The spirits shrieked in terror. The soil screamed. I tried to raise a wall of bones—he shattered it with a flick. I called on the old souls for help—he crushed their voices mid-sentence.

He was too powerful. And worse? He thought he was right.

“This world was born from death,” he shouted. “And death is order. You… are chaos.”

I was seconds from losing. He was choking the power out of me, burying me alive in silence. And then I remembered the thing the old caretaker warned me about—deep in the catacombs beneath the cemetery, past the crypts and the sealed tombs, was something ancient. Something that was never supposed to awaken.

I broke through the ground and let it take me.

What rose from the dirt wasn’t me anymore—it was The Dread Core, a mech forged from black stone, rusted steel, and grave chains. The drill arms spun to life, glowing red. The chest opened, revealing the soulforge—my heart, pulsing like a dying star.

Dove screamed, “What have you done!?”

I answered by drilling through the earth and straight into him.

The ground shook. The chains wrapped around his limbs. The drills spun faster. I yelled, “You want silence? Here’s your eternal rest!” And I punched the drill straight through his chest.

He exploded. Not blood. Not guts. Just… dust.

And then, everything went still.

The clouds parted. A beam of light so pure it hurt to look at descended from the sky. No wings, no face—just a silhouette of light and warmth. Even the dead went quiet. It didn’t say a word. It just looked down, as if saying:

This isn’t over.

Now I’m sitting here, bruised, my mech buried under rubble, and the voices of the dead have gone silent.

I don’t know what that being was. I don’t know if Dove was just a madman or part of something bigger.

But I have a feeling this was just the beginning.