<Hahaha! Do I really come across like that?>
“Weren’t you?”
<I can’t deny it.>
Halkion grinned.
Then, he reached out his right hand.
Crackle!
The disintegration of the field slowed significantly.
“What did you do?”
<I’ve slowed the dimensional transition speed. We can chat for a bit.>
“...”
<Why are you looking at me like that? I am capable of such feats. I am a proper divine entity, after all.>
“You say that, but look at someone like Shutenberg.”
I gestured toward what was left of Shutenberg.
Halkion shook his head.
<That’s just an illusion of Shutenberg. In a shadow world like this, transcendent beings never fully perish.>
“So, it’s not dead?”
<Correct.>
I frowned.
The thought of fighting it again was unappealing.
<Don’t worry. It won’t reappear until this world is over. Judging by its corruption, its main body might not even be intact anymore.>
“Hmm.”
<In this world, beings like us are heavily restricted. We’re only able to use a fraction of our original power. Divine entities are far stronger than you think. Don’t get complacent. Though, with the power you’ve inherited from me, you certainly have the potential to surpass us.>
The conversation was veering off-topic.
What Halkion originally wanted to discuss must have been something else.
I stared silently at him until he spoke again.
<Assinis has disappeared.>
“...”
<To be precise, its presence has faded since you cleared the 80th floor.>
“It left?”
<While I’ve severed its connections, its spirit seems to have departed this place.>
I recalled the events of the 80th floor. Before Phryos broke through the dimensional barrier, he had stopped °• N 𝑜 v 𝑒 l i g h t •° the flow of time within the field. However, that likely wouldn’t have affected transcendent beings. Could it be that Assinis discovered a hidden truth during that moment?
<It left you a message. It said, ‘Wait for me.’>
“What am I supposed to wait for?”
<I don’t know. It should have spoken more clearly. Such insolence.>
Halkion grumbled, then turned to look at me.
<Anyway, I suppose it’s about time for me to leave as well.>
“...”
<Of course, I’ll leave my power behind. With your abilities, you’ll be able to handle it well enough.>
“Where are you going?”
<I’m not certain. One thing is clear: someone is calling me—no, us.>
Halkion glanced upward.
I followed his gaze.
Above the disintegrating field, countless golden lights were rising, leaving brilliant trails as they shot toward some unknown destination.
Those weren’t fragments.
The ascending lights etched dazzling trajectories as they disappeared.
<Hah. This is a sight you can only witness in the void between dimensions. Another world is closing, and its sacrifices are being ‘released.’>
These beings loved speaking in riddles. Couldn’t they just explain things clearly for once? Trying to decipher every cryptic line was exhausting.
<Han.>
Halkion called my name.
<Our contract ends when your mission is completed. Even if you return to your world afterward, we won’t blame you. You’ve fulfilled your duty.>
“So?”
<Soon, you’ll have to make a choice.>
I let out a long sigh.
‘So he’s figured it out.’
There was no fooling him.
From his words, it was clear—Halkion had realized the truth of Möbius.
“A choice? What kind of choice? To stay here and die with you, or to run away and survive miserably? The choice is obvious, isn’t it? Why would I willingly sacrifice myself for a world that’s already doomed? Loyalty or whatever—dying for such reasons is ridiculous.”
<Hah! Can’t argue with that logic.>
“Then why talk about choices? You want me to become a living battery?”
<Indeed, if someone like you were to inherit Ikar, this game could achieve a far greater level of perfection. Perhaps, it could even flourish once again.>
I scowled, pointing toward the sky.
“Whatever plan you’re cooking up, I’m not interested. You’re just like Tel, aren’t you? You want me to sacrifice myself for the sake of this universe, right?”
I recalled the prince’s final words.
In the wheat field, he had said this to me:
‘We will meet again on the golden throne.’
Disgusting.
I climbed down into the crater where Shutenberg’s corpse lay.
Plunging my hand into the mess of flesh, I rummaged around until I found what I was looking for—a pulsing transcendent core.
Even without the Book of Reversal, this level of interference could allow me to attempt a seven-star ascension.
Just one more.
If I could obtain Lantia’s core, Yurnet and I could collaborate to craft a replica of the Book of Reversal. Forget El Cid’s legacy. After clearing the 90th floor and completing the seven-star ascension, I could finally leave this insane world behind.
Back on Earth, Yurnet had left me a fortune.
An enormous amount of money—enough to live leisurely for the rest of my life.
No need to stream on Mytube, begging for donations to fund my gaming habits. I could play whatever I wanted, free of worry.
‘And yet... stay here?’
In this place?
Nothing good had ever come of it.
The life of a hero was a relentless cycle of grueling training and brutal battles.
‘Even if I stayed, it would be pointless.’
There was no hope.
The universe was ending—what was there to save?
The void swarmed with trillions upon trillions of fragments. Could they even be quantified? As long as Möbius existed, their numbers were effectively infinite.
“...”
When I opened my eyes again, Halkion’s figure had completely vanished.
I realized then that he was truly gone.
‘Not ready, he said.’
I clicked my tongue.
What exactly was I supposed to prepare for?
To sacrifice myself? To become Tel’s pawn and spend eternity as a battery?
My birthplace, my home—my true world—is Earth.
That is where I was born, where I’ve lived, and where I will continue to live.
Not in this wretched place.
‘Screw that.’
I spat on the ground.
Time, which had been frozen, began to flow again.
Turning my back on the blinding light, I prepared to leave.
‘I need to get ready to go.’
No more of your games.
Seris was right.