Waves rolled in slow, uneven pulses, as though the ocean itself were exhausted.
Naxys descended from the air without ceremony.
There was no graceful landing, only a sudden drop in momentum as her boots struck the damp sand, followed by dropping two bodies from her shoulders. Dongmei collapsed first, her knees sinking into the shore as her hands caught her weight. Kihoko landed less elegantly, rolling onto her back before forcing herself upright with a groan.
For a moment, none of them spoke.
The only sounds were the tide and ragged breathing.
Dongmei’s shoulders rose and fell violently. Each inhale came sharp and shallow, like her lungs were resisting the effort. Damp strands of hair clung to her face, and a faint sheen of sweat reflected the dim coastal light.
Her skin looked pale and her clothes were bloody.
She pressed a hand against her chest, trying to steady the tremor running through her body.
Naxys noticed immediately.
Dongmei’s condition was not just fatigue. It felt closer to backlash from challenging Naxys and from her own healing ability.
Kihoko pushed herself into a sitting position and wiped sand from her sleeve. She glanced at Dongmei, then toward the distant horizon where they had fled from.
Then she laughed.
Not loudly, but with genuine disbelief.
“That man,” she said, smiling between breaths while still catching air, “is truly terrifying.”
Dongmei did not answer. Her breathing remained unstable, bordering on feverish.
Kihoko reached into her coat and pulled out a thin strip of parchment, the contract. The symbols on it shimmered faintly, reacting to something unseen, as though the ink itself were still alive. Her eyes glowed and she kicked her feet slightly, swelling with excitement.
Naxys crossed her arms, masking the subtle tremor in her fingers.
“Yeah,” she said casually, though her voice carried slight dryness. “I hope he remains negotiable after the attack that is coming.”
She shifted her posture slightly to hide the strain in her stance.
The truth was simple.
She was tired.
Whatever Andreas had done, she had barely resisted the assault. It was like the world suddenly took interest in her. Resisting or escaping had felt impossible unless Andreas permitted it. Which he did. Perhaps he cared enough to decide that. Or perhaps he simply registered that he was harming her, like a monster noticing ants.
Dongmei finally spoke, her voice faint.
“…Naxys, you bitch. Why did you save me?”
Naxys did not respond.
Back at the city where Andreas remained.
Beyond any distance measurable by land or sea.
A flash of light split the horizon.
It was not lightning or fire, and definitely not magic.
It was something quieter, and far more absolute.
Kihoko noticed first.
She squinted toward the far edge of the world where the sky momentarily turned white.
“…Did you see that?”
Naxys turned.
Her eyes narrowed.
The glow faded almost instantly, leaving behind only normal sky.
But the air felt different.
As if something had rewritten a conclusion somewhere far away.
“Ah right. The gross wonders of Earth,” Naxys said with hatred.
Andreas stood alone
The land around him was silent. Flat and burning.
It stretched outward in all directions like a memory of a place rather than a real one. The ground was coated in pale ash and destruction that shifted softly under his boots.
There were no trees or buildings where they once stood.
There was no sky, only a faded gray covered in falling ash.
It looked like the aftermath of a nuclear explosion.
But to Andreas’s knowledge, there had been no explosion.
At least, not one he remembered.
Andreas blinked.
He wore his usual expression.
That gentle, slightly forced smile.
But his eyes carried confusion.
“Huh. What happened?”
He looked around slowly. His words drifted into the empty air.
Footsteps accompanied by faint circus music echoed behind him.
Andreas turned.
A skeleton walked toward him.
Not metaphorically.
Not symbolically.
A literal burning skeleton.
Its bones glowed faintly with ember like cracks, and small flames flickered between the gaps of its ribs. Despite this, it moved with surprising politeness, stopping a few steps away before performing a stiff, formal bow.
Its jaw opened.
“Welcome, to something something city, where your humble skelly boy just sprouted from nowhere to help you make sense of what does not make sense. Do I make sense? Probably. So sir Andreas, please watch the greatest movie you will ever see in this world. The journey of Aldric, the man who so graciously offered himself to bring thee wonderful Mister Boring here, Andreaaas.”
Andreas blinked again.
“…Thanks?” he said with a light chuckle.
The skeleton turned and gestured forward.
Only then did Andreas noticed it, a building.
Standing alone in the ash covered landscape.
Untouched, unburned, and perfect.
A movie theater.
Bright posters decorated the entrance, their colors impossibly vibrant compared to the dead world surrounding them.
One poster stood at the center.
Large.
Decorated with dramatic golden lettering.
ALDRIC’S JOURNEY
The skeleton pointed toward the entrance like an usher.
“Your show is ready.”
Andreas stared at it for a moment, then shrugged.
“…Sure.”
He followed.
Inside, the theater looked normal.
Soft red seats.
Dim ambient lighting.
Fresh popcorn scent lingering in the air.
Andreas walked down the aisle, quietly enjoying the scenery since this was his first time entering a theater of any sort.
Only one other person sat in the room.
Aldric.
He did not turn immediately.
He simply watched the screen.
Andreas walked over and sat beside him.
For a moment, neither spoke.
The movie had already begun.
Images flickered across the screen like Aldric’s life flashing before their eyes. From birth to the last prayer at the bridge, Aldric’s life unfolded before them.
Then Aldric spoke quietly, and angrily.
“What are you?”
Andreas leaned back slightly in his seat.
“I do not know. I will just have to say human.”
On the screen, Aldric appeared looking at a DNA test report showing that he was not the father.
Andreas covered his eyes at this scene, along with other scenes such as awkward conversations with his daughter and discovering Aldric’s wife with his friend, the true father of the child.
“I hope you realize what you have done. Yes, I might have sought you on Earth, but you are the one who stole my dreams,” Aldric continued.
Andreas tilted his head slightly.
“Did I?”
“The disciple of the Deliverer of Prayer.”
The film flickered brighter.
“Blessed one of the Angel. Second to Yourway.”
Andreas nodded slowly.
Then smiled wider.
“…That sounds epic.”
Aldric finally turned to look at him.
There was no anger in his expression.
Only certainty.
“You will regret it.”
The film began to distort.
Colors stretched.
Sound warped.
The theater lights flickered.
The walls trembled slightly.
But Andreas did not react.
He simply watched the screen as it melted into abstract motion.
Then—
The ceiling cracked.
A low rumble spread through the building.
Aldric’s image on the screen fragmented into ash like particles.
Reality began collapsing.
Seats dissolved.
The walls bent inward.
The theater itself started to crumble as though it had only ever been held together by narrative tension.
Andreas remained seated.
Smiling.
Calm.
Watching the destruction unfold.
Then he spoke quietly.
“…Yeah.”
The ceiling split open.
Light poured in.
Ash began falling like snow.
“It does not really matter.”
The screen shattered completely.
Aldric’s physical form began dissolving into fragments of glowing dust.
“If I went mad.”
The floor cracked beneath Andreas’s feet.
“Or died.”
The walls folded inward.
“Or something terrible happens to me…”
The theater vanished.
The landscape returned.
Empty.
Silent.
Vast.
Andreas stood alone again.
Still smiling.
“…If I cannot figure out what happened to me…”
He looked up at the gray sky.
Then laughed softly.
“…then I should just enjoy this mystical world.”
The ash shifted around his boots as he began walking forward.
No urgency.
Just movement.
“…and go with the flow.”
He paused briefly.
Then added,
“Until I get bored.
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