AKIHIRO ATLAS
My thoughts, my knowledge, my experiences, in short, my 'memories'... had not dispersed.
On the contrary, it had never before descended upon me with such intensity and complexity. Thanatos' words were not mere echoes in my mind; they seemed to have taken root within me, slowly spreading from there. My past... is my story. My present moment... a narrow interval. My future... a completed outcome. These three concepts felt heavier than I had ever imagined before. Because for the first time, I had come to the point where I wasn't just accepting that my life wasn't just made up of the moments I lived through... but that it could be "shaped" by something.
But there was something strange about these memories and thoughts.
As I expected, there wasn't just fear.
Yes, I was still afraid. This entity, this place, these words... they all frightened me as much as they should. But alongside that... there was also a softening I couldn't explain. It was as if a resistance within me had not completely broken but had changed direction. Previously, I only wanted to resist. Now, I wanted to understand.
And this change... was what disturbed me the most.
Because the reason for this was...
It was his smile.
Thanatos's short, gentle yet strangely "impartial" smile resurfaced in my mind. There was no contempt in that smile. There was superiority, yes... but even that wasn't oppressive. It was more like the patience of someone who knows something is inevitable. And this patience... although it couldn't directly extinguish the anger within me, it did disperse it. It was as if, in the face of it, not only resisting but also trying to understand was an option.
And me…
I was choosing this. Even though I had doubts that this option was wrong… A little wrong is better than more wrong.
Or I'm just a stupid person who thinks too simply. That's what my master was saying anyway.
This realization caused a slight uneasiness within me. Because was this my decision... or the effect of Thanatos's smile? I wasn't sure. But there was still one thing I couldn't deny: the chaos within me was now flowing toward a single point.
I breathed slowly.
And this time, I used my voice more controlled, more consciously.
"The Non-Shining One…" I said, choosing my words carefully. "What does this mean?"
This question... was no longer just a curiosity.
This was the first conscious step towards understanding myself. Because I thought my journey would be in vain if I didn't take this step.
While my words hung in the air, my eyes drifted back to him.
And this time…
I really saw him.
That pressure I felt at first was still there, but it wasn't blinding anymore. My eyes could focus more easily on the details. Its body floating in the air still seemed to defy gravity, but now it appeared less like a threat and more like a reality. As if the concepts of "down" or "up" had never existed for it.
The Robe…
When I first saw it, it seemed complicated. Now, however, I could discern order within that complexity. The black and dark red tones weren't just an aesthetic choice; they seemed to carry meaning. Those fluid patterns in the inner layers seemed to follow not a wind but a thought. The tassels were still moving, but this movement no longer appeared random. As if each one... was obeying an unseen rhythm.
His hair…
That deep red hue was still striking, but I no longer saw it as something about to burn… I saw it as something already burned and leaving behind a scar. It wasn't a beginning… it was an end.
That golden wreath on his head...
At first it seemed like just a symbol. Now it felt heavier. It wasn't an ornament. It was a position. A role. It's not something that carries him... it's something that defines who he is.
And his face...
His eyes were still closed.
But these closed eyes no longer seemed to me like they weren't "seeing."
On the contrary…
It seemed like there was no need for him to look.
This thought brought a strange calmness within me.
Because for the first time… I wasn't trying to avoid his gaze.
Just…
I was wondering what it was that he was looking at. It was as if, with his eyes closed, he was looking at something much more than just me. This was what piqued my curiosity.
And this curiosity…
It was slowly beginning to replace fear.
Slowly, she opened her mouth along with her eyes.
"This is just a label you'll hear in your future... You think you shine while saving everyone. Because you want them to love you, you're selfish, despicable, egotistical, and evil. However, while saving everyone, those true desires in your heart will one day make you who you are. "
What do you mean, I'm selfish, inferior, an egoist, and evil??? These are your words, filthy god.
I was sure he wasn't kidding around with me, but he was openly insulting me and making me feel bad. However, those were his genuine words. Right now, it would be stupid for me to lose control of my emotions and lash out at him. Getting angry or crying would be stupid and pathetic. I have to swallow the insults he's thrown at me for now.
Meanwhile, Thanatos, or whatever his name is, continued.
"I made those same accusations against you. " She looked at me with a sweet yet sly smile and then continued her words. "We all have our own unique stories, right? "
I nodded in agreement.
"These stories bring us titles and results. For example; now you are the King of Thunderbolts.' There is a day in your future when you will become 'The Non-Shining One'. Even... There is much more in your past and future. There is so much, my child. I have never seen a person like you before. However, I cannot access these other things. They are all protected. "
To be protected? I remembered what he just said to me.
"Your creator must have protected you well. The interesting part is, I can't even talk about it. After all, there are beings whose names even the gods dare not utter." he had said.
He mentioned something about one of them being an obstacle. By my creator, he must have meant the supreme being. I'm not sure, but if He is the creator of everything and we weren't created racially by one of the brothers in the Supreme Five, then He's the only one left. However, this is still uncertain.
"What kind of protection is this?"I asked.
Thanatos thought for a few seconds. I could tell from his expression. Even gods communicate a lot through gestures and facial expressions.
"Your Creator... has made you inaccessible in your past and your future. You were created by a power that I cannot easily comprehend. " he said.
However, if the situation were as he said, wouldn't that mean no one could reach him? We were all creations of the Oversoul.
There are things here that don't sit well with me. I absolutely must find a solution.
"What do you know about this power?", I asked.
Thanatos put his hand to his mouth and chuckled. Then he made his eyes look a little sad. The smile disappeared from his mouth, and he looked at me like a sad parent.
"I'm sorry, my child. Your essence surpasses even a god like me. I cannot discover anything about it."
Does it even surpass a god like him?
So, I'm still too ignorant to understand what I am.
If even a god cannot enlighten me... What will I do?
Still, I must learn something. I need to ask a reasonable question.
"Thanatos, what sets me apart from others?"
Thanatos did not immediately answer my question.
But this delay... was not a moment of reflection. It was as if what I was asking did not require generating new information for him; on the contrary, he was simply choosing the form in which something he already knew would be presented to me. Even the decaying, burning landscape around us responded to this silence. The eruption of the lava slowed down, and the vibration within the black columns shifted to a deeper tone. It was as if even the universe itself had tuned in to listen to this response.
And at that moment… I felt it truly for the first time:
This answer… would change me.
Then he spoke.
This time, his voice wasn't just heavy; it was inevitable.
"Difference…" he said slowly, filling the word with meaning, "is not the privilege most beings think it is."
A brief pause.
"Difference… is a reality that must be borne."
This sentence settled in my mind not as a thought... but as a burden.
Thanatos bowed his head slightly. His eyes were still closed, but at that moment I realized that for him, seeing was not a physical action. He only knew that I "was."
"You," he continued, "did not come into existence like the others."
His voice deepened.
"And that's why... you can't feel like the others."
Something stirred inside me. This sentence... it felt as true as I wanted to deny it.
"The human being," said Thanatos, "avoids pain. Because he sees pain as the end. He defines happiness as the goal. And when he thinks he has achieved it… he clings to it. "
A short silence.
Then his voice lowered a little more.
"As for you…" he said, "you don't run away from pain."
That word... resonated within me.
"You're trying to understand pain. "
That was indeed the case. I always tried to understand the pain of others. I wanted to be the first to think of someone in need and offer help.
Maybe they'll like me and see me.
At that moment, my heart beat irregularly.
Because it wasn't a comment.
It was... a diagnosis.
Thanatos's voice was no longer a narrative; it was like an analysis.
"That's why," he said, "what you make me feel... cannot be described."
He raised his hand slightly. This action was not meant to create something... but to point to something.
"Most people's existence is limited by their own boundaries." he continued. "But you... you are not a boundary."
He paused briefly. During this time, I thought he was choosing what to say. Because he wasn't saying things I could understand.
"You… are a threshold. "
I... Am I the threshold?
This word was different from the others.
Deeper.
More sharp.
"And thresholds…" said Thanatos, his voice layered with philosophical weight, "exist to be crossed."
He fell silent for a moment.
Then…
"Or to get hurt."
Something inside me tightened.
Who am I anyway?
I... Why am I the thing everyone comments so much about?
I... What am I?
But he didn't stop.
"What humanity calls 'nirvana'…" he said, "is not a state of peace. "
At this point, his voice deepened even more. It was as if he wasn't just speaking, but revealing a truth.
"This is not the end."
A short silence. At that moment, I really wanted to think, because what I heard was causing me pain, but Thanatos decided to continue.
"This… is a awakening. "
This word echoed in my mind.
"And waking up…" he continued, "is not seeing the truth."
He paused for a moment.
"The truth… is letting it see you.This sentence...
It broke something inside me.
But Thanatos' voice sank into a dark layer.
It's heavier.
More sharply.
"But this path…" he said, "will never bring you peace."
A short pause.
Then…
He spoke slowly, one word at a time.
"You… will see a lot of death."
This sentence lodged itself in my mind not like a thought, but like a memory; it was as if images that had not yet occurred but already belonged to me were suddenly etched behind my eyes. Death... for me, it was always something that had to be opposed, something that had to be prevented, delayed, and if possible, ignored. But the way he put it... transformed it from an outcome into a process. "You'll see," he had said—not just witnessing it, but being exposed to it, being part of it, experiencing it over and over again. And at that moment, I realized that this word tore me apart not because it scared me... but because it felt familiar to me. Because deep down, I already knew this. Every person I couldn't save, every moment I was late, every failure I attributed to "next time"... all of these little pieces were embedded within this sentence. But now, for the first time, they were laid out before me so clearly: This wasn't an exception; this was my path. And me... instead of resisting this, I felt a part of me beginning to accept it. That was the moment when the real fear began—because fearing death was one thing, beginning to accept it was quite another.
This sentence spread throughout the area we were in. The sound of the lava suddenly grew louder, as if reacting to these words.
"War... will not be an event for you."
"There will be a continuity."
These words, unlike the other ones, did not resonate with me in any way... For me, war was always a momentary affair; a specific time, a specific enemy, a specific goal. Something that begins, is fought through in the middle, and must end at the end. At least, that's how I always wanted to see it. Because to think otherwise would mean opening the door to a darkness one couldn't even admit to oneself. But now, what he said shattered that. He said that war wasn't an "event" but a "situation." And at that moment I understood... if this was true, I would never be able to stay out of the war. Even if I won, it wouldn't end; even if I lost, it wouldn't end; it would only change form. One enemy would leave, another would come. One city would be saved, another would burn. And I... would become something that moves within this cycle. This thought weighed heavily on my stomach. Because it meant that the war no longer remained a choice of my own. This meant that I was not "someone who fights" but "someone belonging to the war itself" And the scariest part was... a part of me didn't completely oppose this. Because a part of me was still saying this: If this is truly a continuum... then I too must constantly move forward within that continuum. Without resting. Without giving up. Without waiting for it to end. And this... felt more like a sentence than a task.
My breath hitched.
But he continued.
"And the saddest part..."
"You will never be happy. "
This sentence... was different from the others.
This wasn't a guess.
This... was a conclusion.
This sentence... didn't sink in. It drained me dry. It was as if that subtle, fragile desire—the desire to be loved, to be seen, to be truly "a good thing" in someone's eyes—that I had held within me for years without being able to name it but that stood behind every decision I made, had been suddenly torn away. I didn't just want to fight; I wanted to save. And saving... for me, it was never just about doing the right thing. It was about seeing that small moment of relief on someone's face. It was about hearing "I'm glad you came." Maybe it wasn't about someone choosing me, but... at least it wasn't about someone rejecting me. That child inside me—the part that builds itself up with the pieces others give me while trying to understand who I am—always whispered this: If you save enough people, someone will hold you too. If you become enough light, someone will warm you too. If you're good enough... someone will love you.
And now... this possibility was destroyed with a single sentence. "Never. " This word killed all my "maybe"s. Every hope I had for the future, every small dream I postponed until "one day"... they all lost their meaning at once. Because if happiness wasn't a result for me... then nothing I did was bringing me any closer to it. I was running, yes... but not to get anywhere. Just to run. This thought turned into a physical weight in the center of my chest; breathing became difficult, because for the first time I realized that I wasn't just trying to save others... I was searching for a reason to save myself.
And the scariest part... was the moment I realized how selfish this all was. Because if I'm really fighting for this reason—to be loved, to be accepted, to be happy—then wasn't everything I'd done tainted? Did every rescue carry a hidden expectation within it? Was it all a silent scream saying "See me"? This thought made me sick to my stomach. Because I... wanted to be a good person. Really. But now I understood that even goodness sometimes arises from necessity. And if that need can never be met... what was left?
That's when something inside me didn't break. It got worse. It emptied out. Because when hope is shattered, it hurts... but when it completely vanishes, all that remains is silence. And in that silence... I heard myself for the first time. Not as a hero, not as a savior... just as a human being. And that human being... only wanted this: One day, to feel sufficient even without doing anything. But now I knew... that day would never come.
Everything inside me fell silent for a moment.
But Thanatos' voice still flowed on.
"Happiness..." he said, "will never be a destination for you."
A brief pause.
"There will be a gap."
This word... it sank into me.
"And this emptiness..." he continued, "will shape you more than anything else."
His voice was now quieter but deeper.
"You will not be someone who experiences happiness, Akihiro Atlas. "
He paused for a moment.
Then…
He spoke slowly, but firmly.
"You... will be the one who will create happiness. "
This sentence...
It shifted something inside me.
It was as if a destiny, for the first time, gained meaning.
This sentence didn't fall like a ray of light into my heart... It made me feel like I was the light. For me, it showed me a direction in the darkness. That heavy void that had just collapsed within me was still there—it hadn't gone away, it hadn't vanished, it was still squeezing my chest as I breathed. But this time... something meaningful stirred within that emptiness. If I could never be happy... if this was something that truly couldn't change... then it didn't necessarily mean everything was over. Because what Thanatos said... that wasn't the end of the sentence. It was a door. And for the first time, I felt that door opening.
He said you "can't find happiness." But "you can create it."
This word... resonated within me.
To create. To be a creator. However, He is the creator who creates emotions.
I hate the gods, not for creating.
To me, someone who can create the happiness of even one person... would be like having the honor of saving the entire universe.
Touching people's hearts and convincing them to move forward in a positive direction...
A hero's dream.
Beyond a dream, this wasn't just waiting. This wasn't just hoping it would be given to me one day. This... was building something with my hands, with my choices, out of my pain. And at that moment, I realized that maybe I had been chasing after the wrong thing all this time. Maybe happiness... wasn't something I was supposed to have. Maybe it was something that gained meaning when I gave it to others. Maybe... that was my role.
And this thought... for the first time, truly changed something inside me.
Because if I can make others happy... if I can see that small, fragile but genuine smile on their faces... then this emptiness wasn't completely meaningless. Yes, maybe it would never fill up. But maybe it didn't need to be filled. Maybe that emptiness... was the answer to why I kept going.
My breathing slowly returned to normal.
The weight on my chest didn't completely disappear... but it no longer crushed me.
Because for the first time... I felt like I could stand up with that weight instead of being crushed by it.
Somewhere inside me... something had stirred for the first time in a long time.
It was a very small thing.
It wasn't such a great epiphany.
It wasn't a beam of light splitting the sky either.
Rather, it was more like a tiny spark flickering in the midst of darkness.
So weak it could be extinguished by the slightest breeze.
But it was still real.
And I realized it the moment I felt it.
I wasn't completely empty all this time.
I wasn't completely dead.
There was still something moving inside me.
Because no matter how shattered I become... no matter how tired I get... no matter how long I rot inside my own mind through nights... something inside me still responds when I see that tiny smile on a person's face.
The moment a child is freed from fear.
Seeing someone breathe easily for the first time.
The beginning of a trembling voice speaking with hope again.
These still touched me.
And this... person was frighteningly human to me.
Because I hadn't seen myself as human for a long time.
I just felt like a walking mistake.
Something that decays a little more every time it fails to protect others.
A shadow that carries disaster wherever it goes.
As if the very essence of my existence were built on loss.
As if, the more I tried to protect those I loved, the more cruel fate became in taking them from me.
That's why, at some point, I began to hate myself.
Quietly.
Without telling anyone.
Because after a while, even looking into one's own eyes in the mirror tires one out.
I only saw failure in my own eyes.
The people I couldn't save.
The moments I couldn't reach.
Seconds late.
And every time, the same thought echoed inside me:
"Maybe the problem is you."
That thought gradually became ingrained in the walls of my mind.
No matter how hard I tried to laugh it off, it didn't go away.
No matter how long I stood my ground, it wouldn't let me go.
And the scariest part… was that I never stopped believing in it after a point.
I had come to terms with it.
I began to carry it like the rotten part of my being.
But now…
Now, as I looked into Thanatos' eyes, I felt something different for the first time.
Because I could still save people.
Maybe I wasn't big enough to change the world.
Maybe I wouldn't be able to stop all the pain.
Maybe I wouldn't even be able to save myself.
But if I can lighten someone's darkness...
If I don't make even one person feel alone...
If I can leave even a tiny light in someone's life...
Then my existence wasn't completely meaningless.
And that moment I understood.
I had never truly sought happiness for myself.
Because deep down inside me, I believed I wasn't worthy of him.
I had normalized my own pain to such an extent that the idea of peace felt foreign to me.
It was as if I had been created solely to endure.
The pain.
The losses.
The fatigue.
The silence.
But for others...
For the smiles of other people...
That's where I could still stand up.
Maybe that was my ideal.
Being able to be a light to others even while lost in one's own darkness.
Preventing others from falling even as the void within oneself grows.
Because I knew how terrible a person's loneliness could be.
I knew what it meant to be unable to escape one's own mind at night.
I knew how it felt to crumble silently while no one noticed.
And if I've gone through this...
At that time, I couldn't allow someone else to fall into the same abyss.
Maybe I wouldn't be happy.
Maybe those broken pieces inside me would never heal completely.
Maybe one day I would collapse again.
I would be afraid again.
I would cry again.
But despite that, I would continue walking.
Because now I understood.
Being human wasn't about being perfect.
It wasn't about never getting hurt.
Staying strong all the time wasn't it at all.
Being human... was about being able to reach out to another, even in your broken state.
And I could still do that.
That's why...
I wasn't completely lost.
Perhaps there was still something inside me worth saving.
Maybe what I had been searching for all this time wasn't "happiness," but meaning.
And I found that meaning in people's eyes.
In the lives I saved.
In the moments I could protect.
In those tiny seconds when I could stop someone's tears.
That moment...
For the first time in a long time, something stronger than fear arose within me.
A purpose.
And without taking my eyes off Thanatos, I felt it with all its weight:
My story was not yet over.
No... maybe it had finally truly begun for the first time.
If destiny were to cast me into darkness, I would guide others even within that darkness.
If happiness were not to be mine, I would create it for others.
Until my last breath.
Until my last collapse.
Until the end.
That faint smile on Thanatos's face reappeared.
But this time, that smile wasn't looking at me like a judge.
It was as if it were the first time... he was seeing the thing inside me that was trying to rise again.
And perhaps for the first time in a long time...
I was seeing it too.
"That's why..." he said, his voice now carrying a more direct, more personal tone, "I'm attracted to you. "
A brief pause.
"Because you…" he said, "are not a being dragged along by fate."
He bowed his head very slightly.
And he said the last sentence, setting it apart from the others.
"You… are an exception that even fate would have to explain."
That moment, I understood.
This wasn't a compliment.
This…
It wasn't even an observation.
This… was an admission.
These words opened a door within me…
Because most of what I had heard up to that point defined me—where I came from, where I was going, what I could never have. But this sentence... it didn't shut me down. On the contrary, it turned it into something that needed explaining. And for the first time, I realized this: There were still dozens of things I didn't know about myself. Not just my past... but who I am, what I can become, what I can choose. And this uncertainty... felt valuable rather than frightening. Because this was the existence of something that still hadn't been written. A path that still might belong to me.
Aurelia's voice echoed in my mind. That simple but profound thing she told me—"learn to love yourself. " I didn't understand it at the time. Loving myself... it always seemed like an outcome to me, something to be earned, a feeling to be deserved. But now... I was realizing it was a choice. My choice. Without knowing who I am, without determining who I will be... I could choose myself. Without rejecting myself, without running away from myself. With my shortcomings, my gaps, my fears. And perhaps for the first time, this thought did not weaken me... it lifted me up.
What Thanatos said may be true. My past may be stained with blood. My future may end in death. This moment of mine may be a narrow interval. But none of these... had to determine how I would live. Because I wasn't here to hear it from someone else. I had to find it for myself. On my own path, with my own mistakes, with my own choices. Not through answers given to me by a god... but through the decisions I made.
Those scattered thoughts inside me converged at a single point for the first time.
I was still searching for myself.
But now I was doing it not out of fear... but out of choice.
And if this path would lead me to wars, if I would encounter things that harm this universe or touch those I love... then I would not run away from it. I would stand against them all if necessary. I would break if necessary. But I would not stop. Because this... was my choice.
If I am an "exception"...
Explaining this may be up to fate.
But determining what that exception means...
It was my job.
And I... was going to do it my way.
With my own ideals.
My own way.
With my own mistakes.
And most importantly…
With my own light.
No matter what…
I will be the hero I want to be.
And that hero…
First of all…
It will be a person.
I didn't take my eyes off Thanatos.
It was as if at that moment, I wasn't looking at just one being… but at all the possibilities shattered within myself. A beginning written in blood, a present moment trapped in between, and a ending imposed upon me... they were all still there. But they no longer held the same meaning. Because for the first time, I began to feel that these weren't "me." They might have been just fragments told to me. And I was... more than what was described.
There was a silence within me. But this silence was not emptiness. It was the weight of a decision.
And I spoke from within that weight.
"If I truly am as you say..." I began, my voice trembling at first but then finding its own rhythm, "if my past is a text, my present an interval, and my future a conclusion... then I will not merely be someone who follows what is written."
I paused for a moment.
Because for the first time, I felt the weight of my words.
"I…" I continued, "will walk over that writing. If there is such a thing as fate, I will not progress by kneeling before its path… but by stepping on it. No matter what end is shown to me, I will not live by accepting it… but by changing it.The heaviness in my chest was still there, but it no longer crushed me.
It was shaping me.
"You said you would show me death…" I said, looking at Thanatos, "you said war would be a constant. You said I would never be happy."
My voice became clearer.
"Maybe you're right. Maybe it's all true."
A short pause.
But this time I didn't back down.
"But if I will never be happy…" I said, "then I will not be someone who waits for happiness. Nor will I be someone who seeks it. "
I took a breath.
And at that moment, what was inside me became clear.
"I will create it."
My words no longer trembled.
"It might be a weakness to want people to like me while saving them..." I said, "but I won't give up on that. Because I don't just want to be someone who fights. Nor do I just want to be someone who saves..."
My eyes hardened.
"I... want to be someone who protects the good people of this universe. "
I remained silent for a moment.
Then the final sentence came.
And this sentence was born not out of fear anymore, but out of choice.
"Neither fate, nor the gods, nor you…" I said, "can define me."
I did not take a step back.
On the contrary… I stood firmer on my ground.
"I will continue to search for myself. " I continued, "but I will do this not through the answers given to me… but through the path I set for myself. Through my own ideals. Through my own falls. Through my own rises."
My breathing deepened.
"And if this path leads me to wars…" I said, "if I must confront everything that harms this universe and my loved ones…"
My voice had now become firm.
"I will stand my ground."
A short pause.
Then I said the hardest part.
"Because I…" I said, "no matter what, I won't abandon myself or others."
And I looked at Thanatos.
No longer with fear.
No longer with surrender.
But with something that is just beginning to form.
"I..." I said for the last time, "am not someone who lives to figure out what I am. "
My voice became clearer.
"I... am someone who chooses what I want to be. "
And at that moment, all the pieces inside me aligned in the same direction for the first time.
"I will be this universe's hero, born of its own will."
As I watched Thanatos rise to his feet, something strange happened inside me.
The fear was still there, yes... but it was no longer alone. As if other emotions had been added to it; attention, the effort to make sense of it, even a difficult-to-describe feeling of "fitting into place." This area still resembled hell—the lava was the same, the black columns were the same, the air was still heavy—but with its silence, it seemed as if all this chaos had momentarily gained order. As if even this place had waited for his decision.
And when he stood up...
I saw this not as an action, but as a result.
It was as if a long-held thought had finally taken physical form. Gravity was not a rule for him, but merely a background detail. While the deep red and dark tones of his robe rippled slightly, I could sense that even that movement was not random. Everything... had meaning around him. Or maybe the problem was this: I had begun to believe that everything had meaning.
He closed his eyes.
And at that moment... for the first time, what came from him didn't feel like a burden.
It was more like a "rest."
I noticed when the expression on his face changed. That cold, analytical look that almost dissected people into pieces was gone. In its place... a strange serenity had settled in. His smile wasn't human-like, but it wasn't threatening either. Rather, it was like an accomplished being saying, "I understand." And for some reason, this didn't completely erase the tension within me, but it transformed it into something manageable.
Then he spoke.
And this time there wasn't heaviness in his voice... there was acceptance.
"You..." he said, as if carefully weighing the word, "aren't just someone who listens."
This sentence made a brief echo inside me.
Not being someone who listens... was that good or bad, I still didn't know.
But it continued.
"You... are a responsive being."
This word touched something deep inside me. Responding… this wasn't just reacting. This meant existing. Being someone who stands up to events, not just someone swept along by them.
And Thanatos was saying this.
He continued speaking without looking at me, but seeing me completely.
"I have seen many things so far." he said. "Too many beginnings, too many endings, too many 'claims to heroism'…"
Claims to heroism…
This word caused a slight discomfort within me. Because I was calling myself a hero... or at least that's what I wanted to be. But in his mouth, it sounded almost like an empty cliché.
But then his tone changed.
"But you..." he said, "don't speak like one of them. "
There was something in that sentence.
Something that didn't belittle me.
But something that doesn't romanticize who I am either.
Just… something that notices me.
"You're not trying to possess something." he continued. "You're trying to build it."
This word weighed heavily on my mind.
To build.
Not being a hero… but establishing something.
This was something I couldn't quite understand even within myself, but for the first time it gave me a sense of "the right direction."
And for the first time, Thanatos truly smiled slightly.
"That's why… your conversation was valuable.This sentence… strangely made things fall into place inside me.
Valuable.
What I said… was not only heard, it was also evaluated.
And this, strangely enough, made me stronger.
Then there was a short silence.
And in that silence, for the first time, I felt like he had really "given" something to me. Not information... but a direction. Not an answer... but a possibility.
Thanatos still had his eyes closed.
But her voice was softer when she turned towards me for the last time.
"For the rest of your life..." she said, "I'm letting you follow your own path, Akihiro Atlas."
A brief pause.
"And I hope..." he added, "we'll meet again one day."
At that moment, I don't know why, but I felt a strange heaviness in my chest.
This wasn't a threat.
But it wasn't a farewell either.
Rather, it was an inevitable possibility.
And then came his final sentence.
"And one more thing…" he said, his voice changing slightly, "I'll leave you something small. "
With these words, my attention sharpened once again.
Because nothing that Thanatos called "small" felt small at all...
The system window slowly appeared before my eyes.
[God of Death has granted you a skill that allows you to see the deadliest points of your enemies.]
Oh… This seems like a really useful thing.
"Thank you." was all I could say, because I didn't know how to treat a God who gave me a gift.
Thanatos tilted her head slightly to the side and smiled sweetly again.
"Farewell, my child. May we be on the same side again when we meet next. Because no one in this universe remains on the same side forever."
Thanatos' voice seemed to be coming from above, from the upper layers of this world, rather than from the space itself where I was standing. With the snap of fingers, reality cracked for a moment—the word "cracked" seemed inadequate—as if the place I was in had been a thought, and someone had erased that thought and rewritten it.
The light disappeared.
The lava flows, the columns, the entire hellish structure... crumbled in an instant of silence.
And then...
I felt again that familiar yet unfamiliar atmosphere of the World Sacred Domain, where nothing seemed "normal" to me anymore. Even the direction of the wind was different. The air... was real, but no longer reliable.
The next moment, my body moved reflexively.
I didn't think about it.
I just became.
Lightning.
My body didn't disintegrate, it didn't vanish—it accelerated. As the lines of the world flowed backward, everything became a trace. The sounds became delayed, the lights dimmed, distances lost their meaning. I needed to find Magnus. That battle with that woman... something wasn't finished there.
And then I felt it.
Not dark.
Something sharper.
The ongoing vibration of war.
I changed direction and increased my speed even more. The world was no longer a place; it was a flow. And I was moving through that flow like a rupture.
And when I reached that place…
I couldn't stop.
Because what I saw... was nothing like what I expected.
For a moment, everything froze in my mind.
Magnus was there.
But he wasn't alone.
There was someone else with him.
And the moment I saw him… every reflex inside me locked up at once.
Because this being… wasn't just someone "there."
It was something that defined the space where it existed.
Long, wind-swept light blue hair... it continued to move even as it fell down her shoulders. It was as if even her hair wasn't static, but a kind of ongoing state. Her facial features are sharp yet soft—a contradiction. And those eyes…
Golden brown.
While looking, she wasn't just seeing; she was evaluating.
The clothing she wore... was made for war, but it didn't look like armor; it looked more like an identity. The stark contrast of black and white, along with the golden details, almost conveyed a sense of authority. The gold pieces on the shoulders served not only as protection but also signified status. The large buckled belt around the waist was like a seal of oath.
And the sword…
It was no ordinary weapon.
It was like a decision that was carried.
Her relaxed posture was the most dangerous thing. Because this relaxation came from habit, not from confidence. It was as if war was not an event for him, but something as natural as breathing.
For a moment, my brain processed this image.
And the name stuck in my mind.
No…
This couldn't be happening.
But it should have.
Because this energy... this stance... this presence...
It matched a title I had heard before.
And at that moment, my reflexes spoke before me.
"Lieutenant Nyoko?!"
My voice exploded like a lightning bolt cutting through the battlefield.
Even as my voice echoed through the air, the reality of my surroundings did not fully return. It was as if the world still had not decided to welcome me back.
But the place where my gaze fell... completely changed the weight of that moment.
Because even calling it a "battlefield" was an understatement.
This place was no longer a place.
It was the remnant of a place.
The ground had cracked; but this was not just any ordinary fracture. It was as if the earth had not split once, but many times over, and each fissure had collapsed in on itself. There was no such thing as soil left—instead, there were enormous, blackened, glass-hard plates. Some were suspended in the air, while others were rising at an inverted angle as if they had forgotten gravity.
Even the sky wasn't quite a sky here.
The light was constantly being interrupted and disrupted as if by an invisible force. Another layer would appear from time to time through the cracks, only to disappear again. Reality had ceased to be a fixed entity here; it had become a text that was constantly being rewritten but was never completed.
And the smell…
A heavy, throat-burning scent permeated the air, like a mixture of metal and burnt souls. Breathing felt like a choice now.
There were huge ruins of structures in the distance.
Things that were once cities...
It all seemed like not only the "aftermath" but also the "continuation" of a war. Because the destruction here had not ended. It had only paused.
Everywhere was engulfed in black flames; human bodies had been burned. Some had become mere standing skeletons. It was terrible.
Buildings were burning, collapsing, crumbling to pieces. An entire city had been destroyed. Almost nothing remained but ashes.
The person who did this was at the center. At first glance, I knew who could have done it…
And right at that center…
Magnus.
His presence stood out like a "point of attraction" even amidst this chaos. It was as if even the destruction was organized around her—not random, but like a directed catastrophe.
And next to him…
That woman.
The being I said was Lieutenant Nyoko.
Now I could see it more clearly.
But this clarity did not bring relief—on the contrary, it made it even more disturbing. Because even amidst this destruction, she appeared "too orderly." Her light blue hair, moving with the wind, did not form a single knot despite the chaos around her. Their black and white clothing was spotless; the gold details sparkled as if they were part of another world rather than this battlefield.
And the scariest part…
It was the comfort.
There was just one thing that kept going on.
It was as if so many deaths weren't new to her.
It was as if the burning of cities, the screams of people, the tearing of the sky... had become ordinary in his mind now.
Even while looking at Magnus, he wasn't rushing. It wasn't like he was in the middle of a battle... he seemed more like he was in the middle of a conversation that had been going on for a very long time.
It was as if the broken world around him was just a background setting for him.
As if this destruction hadn't begun with him.
But it wouldn't end with him either.
And that's when I understood...
This wasn't a battlefield.
This place...
It was the war itself.
And I was caught right in the middle of it.
This is what Thanatos told me. War was a constant thing for me.
Suddenly, all the pieces inside me came together with terrifying clarity.
Why was I constantly stuck in the middle of pain?
Why did people die wherever I went?
Why did every step I took seem to drag me into the center of another conflict?
Because maybe the issue wasn't me going to war.
Maybe... I was the war itself from the very beginning.
I fought, that's what was told to me in the dream.
"Akihiro Atlas."
My name echoed in my mind.
And at that moment, this name didn't seem like a human name to me for the first time.
It felt like a title.
Like a curse.
Like an endless cycle.
Thanatos was right.
I had not fought.
I… was the war itself.
END OF CHAPTER