AKIHIRO ATLAS
TWO YEARS LATER
Almost two years… It's easy to put a number on it, but while living through it, time passed so slowly it went unnoticed; yet when I look back, it feels like an alarmingly intense stretch of time. In the early days, everything was sharp and clear; it still seemed possible to distinguish what was right from what was wrong. But as time passed, those sharp lines blurred. The path I walked with Magnus… it was never a straight line. It was more like a current that constantly shifted direction, sometimes rising, sometimes pulling downward, but never staying the same.
The things we did during this process… they might seem simple from the outside. We tracked the kings. We tried to piece together old records, forgotten documents, and fragmented histories. Names, lineages, lost governments… Each one showed that this world had a deeper past than I had imagined. Some kings had truly ruled; others were merely the embodied form of an idea, a fear, or a belief. Magnus didn't view any of them as "leaders." To him, they were simply… different facets of the system. But I… I still continued to see them as responsible for something. Because for me, it's still hard to believe that it's possible to stop something without holding someone accountable.
During this process, I also learned some things about the Supreme Five; apparently, there is a certain group within the Sacred Domain—where I currently find myself—that worships one of the most important among them. His name is Zeus. According to Magnus, Zeus is the one who creates all natural disasters. Those descended from him have served as King or Queen during certain periods, and even as High King or High Queen during others.
It has been told for generations that those who carry Zeus's direct blood and receive his legacy are like a bright shooting star.
I am one of those stars. Zeus chose me in this universe. From among countless living beings…
The King of Lightning is always the one chosen by Zeus, and he takes on this role to guide future generations toward the light, regardless of race.
What I've learned about myself is at the top of the list of things that have shocked me.
"I see the light."
The moment I first encountered this knowledge… I'm still not entirely sure if something inside me broke, or if a place that was already cracked finally collapsed. Because I was someone who hated kings. This wasn't just an idea; it was a reaction shaped by what I'd lived through, what I'd seen, and what I'd lost. To me, the "king" represented nothing but power—and power, more often than not, either corrupts or waits for an opportunity to corrupt. That's why, even as I researched the history of kings, there was a distance within me; I tried to understand them but never accepted them. Until… that day came.
"The System"… I still don't have a definitive answer for what it is. Neither a fully conscious entity nor a simple mechanism. But when it makes a choice, that choice is not open to debate. That day… it chose me. There was no ceremony, I didn't hear a voice, I wasn't surrounded by light. But I felt it. Something shifted inside me. It was as if a weight that hadn't belonged to me before suddenly settled on my shoulders. And in that moment… I understood.
The very first thing I did that day was to say "System" and then read what was written in the window that appeared before me.
King of Lightning.
Zeus reached out to me through my dreams.
At first I was scared; I thought they were just a few silly dreams, but they grew more frequent and began to speak to me. I remember him saying he'd erase my memory after every dream, and that's exactly what he did. My memories are incomplete. I can't recall my dreams.
Lightning was already a power I possessed, but when he bestowed this title and power upon me, I became one of the strongest in Cistern. One of the most obvious factors in my becoming a General began with my becoming one of the Kings I despised.
When the title was bestowed upon me, I hadn't yet embarked on this mission, and at that moment, there was no one I could share this with. I had only told Aurelia. She seemed like the only person I could trust—the only one who wouldn't kill me for this. Before setting out on the mission, I also told Master Shu, and following his advice, I decided to investigate this further on Earth.
My master was the one who convinced me that even though I held a title I hated, I wasn't like them, and that this power was bestowed upon me by Zeus with the purpose of protecting those I love.
Now I'm here, and I understand everything better.
This title didn't feel like a reward at first. It felt like an irony. Like the very thing I'd hated for years… had been bestowed upon me. The first thing I felt in that moment wasn't pride, nor was it fear. It was more… a contradiction. A conflict within myself. Confronting what I believed in. Because if I accepted this title… I was becoming a part of the very thing I hated. But if I refused… then I didn't know where that power would go.
And that's exactly where… I had arrived.
Magnus's words came to me. To enlighten me, to save me.
Power… is not inherently corrupt.
The purpose of the one who wields it… defines it.
When I first heard that sentence, it had seemed like just an idea. But now… it was a necessity. Because denying that power didn't make it disappear. It just handed it over to someone else. And I knew all too well who that "someone else" might be.
One of the things Magnus taught me was this: Hating something isn't enough to stand against it. Sometimes… you have to step inside it. You have to understand it, carry it, even look like it for a while. But the real issue… is whether you let that thing define you.
And I… decided not to let it.
Being the King of Thunder… is not an identity for me. It is a tool. A title bearing Zeus's name… does not mean I am bound to blindly carry on his legacy. On the contrary, it imposes the responsibility to redefine that legacy. If Zeus is truly a force that shapes this world's natural order… then the "honor" we speak of cannot be measured solely by fear and destruction.
I will use this power… against the things I hate.
Against the oppressors.
Against those who use their power to crush others' lives.
Against those who turn genocide, oppression, and fear into a form of governance.
If this makes me a king… then I will not be a king in the sense they understand it.
I… will be the thing they fear.
But at the same time… I will also be something others can hope for.
Because that fine line Magnus showed me is still there. The line between power and corruption. And I walk that line every day. Sometimes I feel myself stumbling. Sometimes… I realize how easy it would be to fall.
But I keep walking.
Because if this title was given to me… it's no coincidence.
It's a test.
And I… must pass this test without becoming the very things I despise.
Perhaps that's why I was chosen.
Not to be a king.
But to change what kingship means.
Kings and Queens are a collection of titles bound by wars throughout history. Throughout all of history, they have slaughtered one another for the glory of their own Sacred Domains, or to conquer or defend them.
As far as I know, there are currently eight major and recognized Sacred Domains, but the universe is a collection of Sacred Domains that open into one another, with no end to their number. I'm not sure if it makes sense to count them, since a new Sacred Domain can be opened as a pocket universe within one, allowing access to another.
Kings and Queens can be beings of any race. However, their common trait is killing humans, because humans generally occupied the lowest rung of the hierarchy. Unlike them, we are not born with very high Spiritual Power; we train ourselves. Furthermore, unlike them, a certain portion of our race is not born suited to use Spiritual Power. Only a select few are born suited for Spiritual Power, and they are brought to the Cistern to be trained. At least, those whose identities have been identified. Like me and my siblings.
I was 12 years old when I first arrived at the Cistern, and I've been fighting for the Cistern and humanity ever since.
When this crown was forced upon me… I was 16. That was two years before I set out on this mission. I was terrified then, and I'm terrified now. However, there's one thing I've always said…
…Fear is just a word.
Besides that, I've learned many other things. During the time I spent with Magnus, we talked a lot, and I constantly learned new information.
What I learned about Zeus wasn't limited to just that. Even though the sources on Earth didn't have enough information, there were things I learned from Magnus's sources—for some ridiculous reason, he wouldn't tell me.
Zeus was the second being created after the entire universe had been formed. The Supreme God, the creator of all things, first created his first son. The first of the Supreme Five—that first being, whose nature I have yet to learn. After that, Zeus was born. Unlike his four siblings, Zeus's purpose was not to create a living race but to bring other races under his control. He wanted to unite dozens of races under a single order, and he fought to the end for this.
While his other siblings were producing new races, new forms of life, and new possibilities for existence, Zeus looked at the scattered, disconnected worlds they had created and saw a deficiency. To him, the problem wasn't absence. It was excess. Too much will, too many directions, too much chaos… and no center.
That is why Zeus's first war was not actually against the others—not directly. His first war was against the concept of "disorder." He observed the differences between races, the conflicts, and the divisions within them, and interpreted these as a weakness. For Zeus, diversity was not a richness but a risk that needed to be controlled. His ideal was an order where everything was bound to a single will; a system where differences did not disappear but were guided, where chaos was not entirely erased but was contained.
This line of thought led him to an inevitable conclusion: war.
But this war was no ordinary war of conquest. The struggle waged by Zeus was not merely about gaining territory or subjugating races. He was striving to create a "center." A single axis to which every race, every being, and every order would ultimately be bound. That is why his wars were as conceptual as they were physical. He would not settle for merely seizing a Sacred Domain; he would strive to alter that Sacred Domain's history, its beliefs, and even the way it was perceived over time.
And for a time… he succeeded.
Dozens of races were drawn into the system Zeus had established. For example, he had even brought under his control the race of Kira, the creator of the monster race—his own younger sibling. However, until his masochistic sister Kira began killing all those in her own race who disobeyed him and using their flesh… I'm about to vomit. Anyway…
Some submitted out of fear, some out of admiration, and some simply because they had no other choice. Zeus's power wasn't just destructive; it was also alluring. Because what he offered… was an end to chaos. For races that were constantly at war, constantly living on the brink of extinction, this offer was hard to refuse. Being part of an order… could be more appealing than freedom.
But there was one thing Zeus failed to understand.
Control… could never be absolute.
Zeus was one of the last to realize this—but by the time he did, it was already too late. Because the order he tried to establish wasn't limited to merely bringing races together; under the shadow of that order, new forms of existence began to emerge. At first, there were only rulers and the ruled. But over time, this division deepened, became layered, and gave rise to new hierarchies within itself. The races produced leaders from within their own ranks; first kings and queens… then those who rose above them—High Kings and High Queens capable of influencing not just a single realm but multiple orders. These were not merely political figures. They were focal points that concentrated the will of their own races—a sort of walking center.
But even that was not enough.
Because above this hierarchy… there was another layer.
The gods.
They belonged neither entirely to Zeus's order nor were they entirely outside of it. Some saw Zeus's vision and joined him; they wanted to be part of the central order he was trying to establish. Others, on the contrary, saw this order as a threat. Because Zeus's success meant the end of their independence. And some… the most dangerous ones… neither supported nor opposed him. They simply watched, waited, and gathered strength to intervene when the right moment came.
At this point, the war… was no longer just between the races.
It had turned into a conflict between the layers.
The High Kings and High Queens fought to protect their own order. Some sided with Zeus, because the idea of unity he offered appealed to them. Others opposed him, because that unity… would destroy their individual sovereignty. Kings and Queens, meanwhile, either became pawns in this great conflict or struggled to survive in their own small domains on the crumbs of this massive system.
But the real fracture… occurred among the gods.
For Zeus's power was not merely physical. He embodied the very idea of establishing order. And this idea… was both alluring and threatening to the other gods. There were those who envied his power—because what Zeus sought to achieve was something they had never managed: an absolute center. There were those who did not want his order—because that order meant the end of freedom. And the most dangerous ones… were those who wanted to use his power. They did not oppose Zeus. They… pretended to stand by his side.
Betrayal, therefore, did not begin openly.
Betrayal… was born within the system.
One of Zeus's greatest mistakes was believing he could gather everyone around the same center. But the closer one gets to a center, the more beings either bind themselves to it… or begin to tear it apart from within. By the time Zeus saw this truth, it was already too late. Because the war was no longer just resistance from the outside. Cracks had formed within his own order.
And at that point…
Zeus was left alone.
But this loneliness… stemmed not from weakness, but from being at the center. Because he stood right in the middle of the order he had tried to establish. Everyone was watching him—those who followed him, those who hated him, those who wanted to use him, those who betrayed him… all of them.
And Zeus… fought against them all.
This was not a battle of choosing sides. It was a battle to uphold an idea. He had to protect those who supported him, but he also had to prevent even them from becoming corrupted. He had to stop those who opposed him, but he also had to understand why they opposed him. And the hardest part… he had to eliminate those who betrayed him, but he could not deny that that betrayal was a product of his own system.
That is why Zeus's war… was not a war that could be won.
Because he was not merely fighting his enemies.
He was fighting against the very nature of the world he had created.
And nature…
…always fights back.
As his system grew, the cracks within it grew larger. The natures of different races, their wills, their modes of existence... resisted being tied to a single axis. The more Zeus tried to suppress this, the more rigid the system became. As it hardened, it became brittle. And at some point... that grand structure began to fail under its own weight.
The final battle... was therefore inevitable.
But this war was no longer one that Zeus was trying to win. It was a war he was fighting to delay the collapse of what he had built. His brothers—or at least some of them—opposed his methods. But the real destruction came not from without, but from within. The races he had subjugated gradually began to regain their own will. And Zeus's greatest fear came true: the order collapsed from within.
The oldest sibling, that person whose creation we don't know.
His existence and his opposition to Zeus, that man who stood against the entire universe—as long as he existed, Zeus knew he would lose, and what he called inevitable came to pass.
Zeus... lost.
But this loss was not the end.
Because Zeus had realized something in the midst of the battle: Power is limited when held within a single entity. But if that power is… dispersed and distributed throughout the world, control can continue in a different form.
It was with this idea in mind that the Holy Artifacts were born.
These objects were not ordinary artifacts. They were parts of Zeus's will. Each represented a different aspect of his conception of order. Some possessed direct destructive power—like the pure, uncontrollable energy of lightning. Some were more subtle; leadership, authority, domination... even invisible influences that make people submit without realizing it.
According to Magnus, there are currently 16 of these items in existence.
Only four of these were created by Zeus, and all four are classified at different levels within a network system established among the Sacred Domains.
I don't know the names of the items, but I learned the names of the classifications. Currently, there are four sacred items in each class. I couldn't learn their locations and functions. The classes are as follows:
The name under which the four most powerful factions are currently classified is Aeternum.
The name under which the next most powerful factions are currently classified is Dominion.
The name under which the most powerful beings today are classified, after the Dominion, is Covenant.
Finally, the name under which the most powerful beings today are classified, after Covenant, is Relic.
While creating these items, Zeus was essentially dividing himself.
He placed a piece of "center" in each of them.
And he dispersed them throughout the universe.
This was not a retreat.
This was... a transformation.
Because from now on, Zeus would no longer rule as a single entity.
Instead, there would be those who carried his will.
The chosen ones.
Those who bore his blood.
Or... those who managed to attain its power.
And perhaps the most ironic thing was this:
Zeus failed to establish a single order.
But its fragments… managed to infiltrate countless systems.
And this… perhaps meant that it never truly lost them.
I was the next person obligated to carry on his light. I don't know what those who came before me had done or what they did. However, I am Akihiro Atlas, nothing more, nothing less.
The world, however, did not stand still during this time. Losses continued. Conflicts continued to inflict small but deep wounds. And I… kept going back there every time. Magnus did not come most of the time. Sometimes he just watched, sometimes he remained completely indifferent, and sometimes he changed things without even intervening with his presence. His perspective on the concept of "protecting" was completely different from mine. He wasn't so much concerned with saving something as he was with questioning why it needed to be saved. And this difference began to seep into me over time as well.
At first, I denied it. Because saving him... was a reflex for me. It wasn't a thoughtful decision, it was instinct. But the things Magnus showed me made me question even that instinct. Saving someone... was that truly saving them? Or was it just changing the outcome at that moment? Prolonging a life... did that mean preserving the meaning of that life? I couldn't find a clear answer to any of these questions. But I can't ignore them anymore.
Still... despite everything, there is one thing that remains unchanged.
I'm still moving forward.
When someone asks for help, when something breaks somewhere, when a life hangs on the edge of a precipice... I still choose to be there. But now, when I do this, there is no mere "saving" within me. That unsettling awareness Magnus taught me comes with me. I understand that people aren't just "things to be saved"; sometimes they get to that point through their own choices, and sometimes they don't even want to be saved.
And yet…
…when I save them, the same feeling still awakens within me.
The way they look at me.
Gratefulness. Relief. Trust.
Maybe this is selfish. Maybe this is that simple human need that Magnus despises.
But I don't deny it.
I… want the people I save to love me.
Because that moment... that brief, fragile moment... still makes me feel that this world hasn't completely disappeared. It reminds me that beneath that grand structure Magnus described, beneath those watched scenes, beneath that layered reality... there still exists something simple, something human.
And maybe that's why…
…I still can't think exactly like him.
But I don't think the same way I used to anymore.
And walking between these two…
...much harder than I thought.
Still, I chose this path. Now, people aren't the only thing I want to protect.
Much more, everything good in this universe.
In this universe, I want to love everything that can be loved and be loved by everything that can love.
If I were a big baby, I would be crying right now. Because I don't have any of these things yet. Maybe there isn't anyone who loves me at all.
A single tear rolled down my cheek. Then a few more drops.
As these thoughts swirled confusedly in my mind, at some point I realized there was no point in forcing them any longer. Trying to understand everything at once only creates more uncertainty. Magnus's stories, Master Shu's teachings, Zeus's legacy, kings, gods... each was heavy in its own right, but when considered together, they became something that could crush one's mind. And tomorrow... the mission we'll embark on with Magnus. Perhaps this is the moment when we will stand side by side for the last time. Because my transformation into Cistern is approaching. Even the thought of this is heavy enough on its own. Going back to where I started... but not as the same person. Maybe that's why, right now, I choose not to hold on to any of these thoughts. Not to run away... just because I've come to terms with the fact that I'm not ready to carry them.
I lie down slowly. Before closing my eyes, I look at the ceiling for a while. Everything is quiet. But this silence is not peaceful... it's like something is waiting. It's as if even the world knows what's coming and watches without saying anything to me. I take a deep breath and close my eyes. This time, I'm not trying to suppress the thoughts. I'm just… letting go. I'm allowing them to disperse. And this letting go… is pulling me down faster than I expected. Falling asleep doesn't feel like a transition... it feels like a fall.
And then...
Suddenly I'm there.
This is a dream... but it's not a light, vague, fragmented dream. It's... like reality. In fact, maybe even more intense than reality. The first thing I feel is... scale. What lies before me is so vast that my mind struggles to comprehend it. There is no horizon line. The boundary between sky and earth seems erased. Everywhere is filled. But this density is not the chaos created by a crowd... it is an organized chaos. Billions of soldiers. It is impossible to count, even difficult to comprehend. But they are all there. They are all in motion.
And they are not alone.
Behind each one of them... there is something.
Avatars.
Even this word doesn't fully capture what I saw. Because these entities are not only large; they are conceptually heavy. Some rise so high they pierce the sky; their presence disperses clouds and blocks out the light. Some are darker, as if torn from a place where light cannot reach. Their forms are not fixed; some resemble humans, some are completely alien, and some are too complex to describe. But they all have something in common: power. A pure, intense, overpowering force.
The war has already begun.
But this is not just a collision. It's like the aesthetics of destruction. Lights explode, the sky splits open, the ground crumbles, but nothing stops. Everything continues. Every soldier, every Avatar, fights as if they existed only for this moment. There are screams, but they cannot be heard individually. Because the number is so great, the sound has transformed from noise into a vibration. It's as if existence itself beats to the rhythm of this war.
...and at that very moment, without warning, the rhythm of the war changes.
At first, it feels like a small slip. It's as if something has gone out of sync within that enormous chaos. Then a voice rises up—not from a single point, but from everywhere at once. At first, I can't make sense of it, because in a war on this scale, no single sound can be distinguished. But this… is different. This sound doesn't rise above the others; it passes through them. As if all those collisions, all those screams, all that destruction… make way for a single thing.
And then…
Name.
"Akihiro Atlas."
A soldier doesn't shout this. Nor does an army.
Everyone.
It echoes like a single word uttered simultaneously by billions of mouths. But this is not an echo; it is a focus. As if the purpose of this entire war, the direction of this entire movement, the weight of this entire existence... is locked within that name.
My name.
I don't understand at first. Is this a call? An order? A curse?
But that voice won't stop.
"Akihiro Atlas."
Each repetition… heavier. Closer. More real.
Something inside me reacts. It's like a reflex. Because that's not how I see war. For me, war... is not chaos. It is a purpose. It is a necessity. It is the effort to stop what is wrong in order to save the right people. I have always seen war not as destruction... but as a division. Who should be protected, who should be stopped. Who should live, who should be prevented from living.
But here...
This war doesn't care about my definition.
This war… defines me.
"Akihiro Atlas."
The sound is no longer just coming from outside. It's echoing inside me. Within my chest, behind my head, among my thoughts. It's as if my name is no longer mine but becomes part of this scene.
And at that moment… I understand.
There is a difference between being part of this war and being the cause of this war.
And I… I'm on that line.
My breathing is getting heavier. A pressure is building up inside my head. At first, it feels like a mild throbbing. But each repetition, each scream, each vibration... amplifies it. It's as if my mind can't bear this weight. It's like my thoughts are falling apart, shifting, getting mixed up with each other.
"Akihiro Atlas."
Wait.
I want to say it, but I can't make a sound.
Because it's not just a sound.
This… is a call.
And I… feel like I have to answer it.
My head is getting heavier. My vision is starting to shake. For a moment, that vast battlefield seems to shift, warp, and disintegrate. But the sound... is still there. Unchanged. Steady. Resolute.
As if that name is the heart of this war...
My name.
And at that moment, a thought appears within me. Clear. Sharp. Inevitable.
War… is not just a tool.
War… is a language.
And this language… speaks to me.
"War is calling me…"
I'm forcing the words out. It's like each letter tears something away as it passes down my throat.
"…forever. "
This sentence… isn't an awareness. It feels like an acceptance.
And this scares me.
Because I thought I chose war.
But what if…
…war chose me?
The pressure inside my head is now reaching an unbearable point. It's as if something is trying to get in. Or something inside wants to get out. My memories are getting mixed up. Master Shu's voice, Magnus's words, Zeus's legacy... they all come at me at once.
Heroism.
Choice.
Willpower.
All of this... suddenly starts to seem meaningless.
Because if this war truly calls to me...
Then what does my choice mean?
If billions of beings are shouting my name...
Can I still be just "someone who saves someone else"?
Or else…
…have I already transformed into something else?
My heart is racing. But it's not panic. It's more like… strain. It's like something inside me is growing and I can't stop it.
I wanted to fight.
But this…
This is different.
This… isn't a mission.
This… is a role.
And I…
…am drawn into that role.
Unwillingly.
But unable to stop it.
And I...
I'm not into this.
I'm standing in a distant place.
At a high point. Neither a mountain nor a structure, but... I'm up here. Out of this war. Like an observer. But this "watching" is not a passive thing. It's as if there's a reason I'm here. It's as if this scene is being shown to me.
And I'm not alone.
There's something next to me.
I slowly turn my head.
And I see it.
Ares.
This name... forms itself in my mind, as if I already knew it. But what I see is... too great to be confined to a name. A colossal being. But this greatness is not merely physical. When I stand next to him, I don't feel diminished... on the contrary, I feel heavier. It's as if his presence warps the space around him. His form is clear, yet it seems to constantly change. His armor... if it can be called armor... seems to move. Live. The lines crossing its surface flicker like veins. And its eyes…
They are fixed.
But there is a war within them.
Ares does not speak.
He's not doing anything.
It's just standing there.
But this stance... it's not passive. It's as if it's watching along with me. It's not part of this battle... but it's not completely outside of it either. Its presence changes the meaning of this scene.
And that's when I realize.
This isn't just a dream.
This… is a vision.
A possibility.
Or… a reminder.
And I…
…I don't know why I'm here yet.
I'm having trouble standing. The voices echo in my head. Everyone is calling my name. The war wants me. I'm expected to be the battle itself…
The sounds no longer come from outside. The moment I realize this, the nature of the dream changes. That name echoing as "Akihiro Atlas" transforms from a slogan shouted on a battlefield into a frequency etched directly into my mind. It's as if I no longer hear anything; I'm living inside it. Each repetition thins the layers of my consciousness a little more; the boundary between reality and perception tightens like a rope, nearing the point of breaking. I know I'm standing, but I don't feel the ground. The presence of the war is still there, that massive conflict continues, but I am no longer a part of it; I'm just an echo drawn to its center.
And at that very moment, Ares speaks.
His voice breaks through like a crack in this chaos. It doesn't drown out the noise; it passes through it. It's as if even the war itself is forced to make room for his speech. Even this awareness should have been chilling on its own, but what I feel isn't fear—more like something being finally named. Ares isn't just looking at me; he's fixating on me. Its presence seems to render the uncontrollability of this scene invalid.
"The origin of this war is not here," he says.
This sentence is not simple. It is not an explanation. Rather, it feels like a correction pointing out that one is looking in the wrong place. As if I and this war are not even on the same level. As if what I see is the result, and I'm still searching for the cause.
He takes a step. Even that movement seems to affect the world; but it's not a physical effect, it's a perceptual shift. My sense of balance changes. Ares continues, his voice deepening but never rising.
"This echo... comes from the very top of your lineage."
At that moment, my mind automatically goes to Zeus. Supreme Five. Kings, queens, the tiers of power, the Holy Artifacts... everything suddenly converges at the same point. This is not a coincidence. This is not a coincidence. This is... a continuation. But Ares doesn't confirm it or correct it. He just lets it be. It's as if he's waiting for me to ask the right question, but he's also certain he won't give the answer.
Something's getting stuck inside me.
If this war cries out my name... if this call reaches Zeus's domain... then I am not truly a participant. Am I a result? A bearer of legacy? Or is it just an echo selected from within the sound of something larger?
Ares remains silent for a while. Even this silence is active. There is no escape. Then its voice does not change, but its weight increases.
"Listen to me, Akihiro Atlas."
Even the way they say my name is different now. In the past, this name used to attack me in my dreams; now it anchors me. It's as if for the first time, something is pulling me together instead of tearing me apart.
"I will fight with you forever."
This sentence doesn't sound like what I expected. It's not a threat. Nor is it a promise. Rather, it feels more like an existential decision to accompany each other. As if Ares chooses to exist alongside me, and this choice is not a romance; it is a necessity, an acceptance of fate. It does not say I am not alone. It goes further: it says I cannot be alone.
"What you see here," he continues, "is not even a beginning. Not even an end. Just… initial pressure."
The word "pressure" echoes within me. Because this war is no longer an event. It is not a process. It is a system. And I am not looking at the center of that system, but at the weight it presses down upon me.
"Compared to what they will experience in the future, this isn't even an obstacle."
This sentence, while meant to be frightening, strangely freezes me in place. Because it's not a threat. It's not an exaggeration. It's not even a warning. Just... measurement. It's as if Ares doesn't know my future, but he already feels its weight.
And this shakes me even more.
Because if even this is small... then what is big?
Ares turns to me. For the first time, I feel his presence not just as power, but as an "answer." Not like an answer to my questions... but like a fixed point within my existence.
"Stand up," he says.
This is not an order. It's not even a requirement. Rather, it's like the reorganization of a collapsing consciousness. As if falling wasn't an option, standing up wasn't a choice.
"If you lose this," he says, "it means you haven't even started."
And at that moment… something inside me clicks into place.
This war doesn't just call to me. It doesn't just define me. He doesn't even drag me.
It's writing me... again.
And I, in the midst of all this pressure, am not crushed by it for the first time. I'm passing through it.
—
And then everything breaks.
The battle, the sounds, the billions of echoes of "Akihiro Atlas," Ares' presence... all recede at once. This is not like a retreat. Rather, it's like the shutting down of consciousness. It's as if a scene isn't closing; it's being erased as if it never existed.
And all that remains is the fall.
—
When I open my eyes, I see the ceiling.
As if nothing happened.
But as if everything happened.
My breathing is irregular. My chest feels heavy. My heart still beats that rhythm—the rhythm of that war. But that war is over now. Only its trace remains. Not just in my mind, but also in my body.
I don't move for a while.
Because the only thing I'm sure of is this: being awakened doesn't mean I'm finished.
It just means I've been sent back.
"You couldn't sleep comfortably?"
That's Magnus' voice... but I can't even turn around to answer because I'm out of breath.
I answer by speaking in a low voice from where I'm lying down; it's not really an answer, I'm not talking about the question he asked.
"If the members of the Supreme Five always lived their lives in the midst of war… what happened to them these days?" I asked.
Magnus remained silent for a few seconds. I couldn't see him, but I could still guess that he was sitting by the fireplace as usual.
"These days they... have fallen apart. They were never truly united anyway. They did work together at times, but even though they were siblings, they were always enemies. Like everyone in this universe, they were weapons created for the amusement of the Oversoul. Nowadays, some are alive while others are not. And some are not alive while they were still alive."
Even though I heard what Magnus said, I couldn't understand much because my head was throbbing badly. For now, I felt like it was enough to just know that some of them had experienced it.
If I messed with it any more, I was going to hurt myself. I can't risk returning to the Cistern damaged when I'm so close to reaching it. Because if that happens, Aurelia might beat me to death.
"Can you prepare breakfast? I'm starving…"
Magnus probably swears at this kid who suddenly wants to be his servant after asking him important questions... What should I do... I don't have the mental capacity to think about anything right now...
"Okay."
Are you serious?!
END OF CHAPTER