It resembled a late morning. In the refined study bathed in bright sunlight, Dorothy sat cross-legged beside a small tea table by the open window, directly beneath an old-fashioned pendulum clock. The steady ticking of the clock accompanied her as she sipped quietly from a fragrant cup of coffee.
After only a light taste, Dorothy placed the still-steaming cup on the table. With a serene expression, she looked toward her guest seated across from her at the tea table.
That elegant and noble elven matron now sat still beneath Dorothy’s gaze. Her long, trailing hair pooled behind her, and within her cold, expressionless crimson-glowing eyes, the ominous red light remained. The crimson threads spreading unnaturally across her pale skin remained as dreadful as ever.
She sat motionless, saying nothing. The coffee and sweets placed in front of her were almost untouched. In her cascading hair, a small snake was curled up peacefully, dozing. At her feet, a black dachshund gobbled up crumbs that had fallen from the table.
Only the colorful parrot on her shoulder seemed tense—its eyes full of guarded vigilance, locked on the girl seated opposite.
“What’s wrong? Not eating? Did I prepare something that doesn’t suit your tastes? You’re certainly pickier than your brothers were…”
Dorothy spoke with a slight smile to the wary parrot. After a moment’s silence, the bird coldly replied.
“Where… is this place? What did you do to us?”
“Here? Let’s just say… it’s my study. Just constructed, actually. I mean, if I’m going to browse through all realms, I need a place to do it, right?
“As for what you’ve become—that wasn’t my doing. It’s just that this place is a bit… ‘high’ for you. You adjusted to the environment and ended up like that.”
Dorothy responded calmly to the rot-infested being’s question. Her words only deepened the Plague Vulture’s tension.
“A newly constructed space... So this is your domain… What are you now, exactly?”
The Plague Vulture stared intently at Dorothy, trying to sense what trick she might be playing. But nothing came of it.
Ordinary. Serene. The girl before it, and this strange study, all seemed utterly mundane. No signs of abnormality. But the very absence of anomalies made the Plague Vulture even more uneasy—its instincts screamed something was wrong. And the more it gazed at her, the more it wanted to know.
To see. To understand. To know.
Under Dorothy’s gaze, a surge of curiosity rose from deep within the Plague Vulture—questions it had never thought to ask.
“Where is this? Why are we here? What state is the enemy in? What is she planning? We clearly won. Mother devoured everything. So why does it look like this? What should we do now? Is there anything we should do at all? If so—what? Or perhaps… should we do nothing?
“Wait—no. This isn’t the time for such thoughts. But… when is the time? These questions are meaningless—so what kind of questions are meaningful? How do I ensure that what I think about is meaningful? And what even is meaning? Is meaning the key to the question? If so, is meaning itself the answer? If I have the answer, then what was the question?”
The Plague Vulture had entered a bizarre state. Its mind surged with questions—some logical, some absurd—cross-disciplinary riddles and impossible contradictions.
And it still stared at Dorothy. But now, the motivation had shifted—from vigilance to something else. It felt like it could find all the answers in the girl before it.
“The origin of time… the limits of realms… the cause of causality… the logic of logic… the meaning of meaning… the question of the question… the answer to the answer…”
As these countless questions circled in its mind, the girl’s figure began to distort—her smiling form breaking apart into fragments of symbols, sentences, and formulas.
From these mysterious symbols and equations, the Plague Vulture felt it could obtain every answer in its mind—all the answers. So it stared hungrily, absorbing them. As it understood each surface-level answer, it needed something deeper. It extended its consciousness further, diving into the depths like a diver into the sea—letting itself be submerged.
Deeper. Further. Understanding. All answers. Ultimate truth. Becoming truth.
No…
Following its inner curiosity, the Plague Vulture sank deeper and deeper. And just as it was about to be completely lost—suddenly, it felt something on its back.
It jolted back to consciousness.
“Haa… haa… haa…”
Shuddering violently, the Plague Vulture collapsed, limp. Its whole body trembled, panting as if terrified beyond comprehension.
Still silent and cold-eyed, the elven matron gently stroked the back of the panicked parrot on her shoulder, trying to soothe it. The parrot's wide eyes stared at the girl ahead—where once it had seen symbols and formulas, it now saw only a normal figure. Her serene smile was exactly the same as before it lost itself.
“Huff… huff… You… Are you truly the Lord of Supreme Wisdom now? The true Fate Sovereign?
“You’ve… successfully ascended. Are you now the Arbiter of History?”
Trembling, the Plague Vulture asked in disbelief while being gently calmed. Dorothy merely smiled in silence—offering no immediate response.
“No… No, this can’t be. You couldn’t have succeeded. Your ritual—we saw it—there was still a piece missing.
“Both I and Mother could clearly sense it. The ritual wasn’t complete!
“The final ten percent… You didn’t finish it! Mother defeated you and devoured the material realm—so how… how can you be a god now?”
Realizing the truth of Dorothy’s identity and the source of the anomaly, the Plague Vulture was overcome with confusion. It had clearly sensed the ritual had been stopped in its final stage. And yet—why had the young Arbiter still successfully ascended to the Throne of Fate?
Why had this happened?
As the Plague Vulture stared in disbelief, Dorothy kept smiling and reached to the side. She picked up an old book from the tea table, held it in both hands, and casually flipped it open—stopping on a specific page.
“You recognize this, don’t you?”
Dorothy whispered, then placed the open book onto the table so both the Plague Vulture and the elven matron could see. The Plague Vulture leaned in.
On the aged, yellowed page was a stylized image of a bird—specifically, an eagle, sketched in a single stroke like a minimalist emblem. It radiated a mysterious, ancient aura. Next to it were lines of script—written in the spirit-glyph of the native peoples of the Starfall Continent.
The Plague Vulture paused, its doubts deepening.
“This is… the Soulburier? Are you saying the Soul-Eagle helped you? But… it never awakened…
“You… secretly awakened it, didn’t you? But even the Soulburier wouldn’t be able to complete the ritual for you…”
The Plague Vulture’s guess was still incomplete.
Dorothy responded softly.
“Suun helped me. But not by awakening—not directly. It is still asleep…”
“Then what did it…”
Just as the Plague Vulture tried to press further, Dorothy slowly raised her hand, palm up. In a flash of dark light, an object appeared in her grasp.
It was a balance scale—a metal scale with a deep, shadowy gleam.
At the sight of it, the Plague Vulture froze. Then, after a moment of stunned silence, it spoke with dawning realization.
“The Golden Scale of Commerce… the Price of All Things… You—did you use it to complete the Soulburier’s ritual in yourself?!”
“Correct. As expected of the wisest of the Afterbirth progenies. Just as you guessed, I applied Suun’s ritual at a critical juncture. It was my insurance… and I never imagined it would actually end up being necessary.”
Gazing down at the black-gold scale in her hand, Dorothy spoke calmly. Just as she said, the divine authority symbolized by this scale—and the slumbering Soulburier—were the true keys that completed her grand ritual.
Rewinding everything back to the early stages of the grand divine war—when Pope Phaethon had not yet descended, and the Mother of Chalice had not fully broken free—the battlefield was still confined to the planet of the material realm.
In Dorothy’s original war plan, only she and Beverly could immediately deploy divine power. Other allied divine forces—such as the Soul-Eagle Suun—required specific conditions to be met and extra time before joining the battle.
According to the initial plan, Beverly was to intercept the Afterbirth Three Gods, who were sure to descend from the inner realm. She would contain two of them, leaving the third to descend into the material realm—where Dorothy would handle it herself.
The allies the Afterbirth deities might seek out were also accounted for. Against the incomplete Evil Spirit King, Dorothy arranged for the ice dragon Inut to respond. The Spider Queen, who would likely invade the dream realm, was to be countered by Beverly catalyzing Dream Butterfly through the Commercial Gold divinity. As for the incomplete Astarte, she would be leveraged through Adèle for critical support.
Looking back now, had everything gone according to plan in the early stages of the war, the gods on Dorothy’s side would have been fully capable of handling the situation—even without Suun’s appearance. Nevertheless, Dorothy still instructed the shamans of the Starfall Continent to prepare the Great Wild Rite to awaken Suun.
In Dorothy’s view, Suun wasn’t a necessity at the start. The Soul-Eagle served as a fail-safe. Beverly’s front, the material realm, the Dreamscape, and the Nether Realm could all be handled without Suun—but if anything went wrong, he would be the backup.
Thus, in Dorothy’s war structure, Suun was designated as the universal reserve force. And the three most important traits for a reserve: speed, patience, and surprise.
While commanding, Dorothy showed incredible strategic patience. She never intended to use Suun unless absolutely necessary. As the early stages of each battlefield progressed smoothly, she held the Soul-Eagle in reserve.
To preserve Suun’s status as a surprise unit, Dorothy even deliberately slowed the progress of the Great Wild Rite. Once it reached completion, Dorothy used the Commercial Gold divinity through Dark Coin Noble to abstract the entire rite into a “commodity” and repeatedly “purchased” it. As a result, although the ritual’s progress bar was full, it could never actually complete—because Dorothy kept buying it up. It was never allowed to resolve.
At the time, she reasoned.
“If we don’t need Suun now, we hold. If a ritual is predictable, the enemy can forecast the timing of Suun’s arrival. But if the timing is in my hands, I decide when he appears.”
However, later developments defied her expectations. She hadn’t foreseen that the Mother of Chalice—whom she should have been able to suppress—would suddenly pull out Revelation divinity to break the stalemate. The tide turned. The Afterbirth side reversed the situation. The Mother of Chalice’s descent became inevitable, and the situation spiraled rapidly.
With the Mother of Chalice’s growing presence, the momentum of war shifted entirely. Dorothy had to choose: Should she finally cash in the commodified ritual and summon Suun? After all, even a minor god could alleviate the pressure.
But after brief hesitation, Dorothy chose not to summon Suun.
Because once the Mother of Chalice’s descent was inevitable, a single extra subordinate god would not change the outcome. Calling Suun would only relieve pressure, not bring victory.
So she held the card a little longer—as her last resort.
In the final stage of the Heaven’s Return Rite, when Beverly and Phaethon’s defense line was clearly on the verge of collapse, and only 10% of the ritual remained, it seemed like the perfect time to release Suun—to help buy a few more crucial moments.
But that’s when Dorothy realized a terrifying truth.
The Mother of Chalice’s power curve had gone vertical.
Once She reached a certain point in Her reformation, Her power began accelerating geometrically. Her divine growth had gone from steep incline to vertical wall. In that final phase, Her power multiplied exponentially. No one knew how many times stronger She had become.
Against such a disparity, even if Suun was released, he wouldn’t hold out for long. At best, the line might hold until 95%—no better than if she’d released him earlier.
So instead of using Suun as a fighter, Dorothy chose another way to use his power.
She turned Suun’s ritual into part of her own.
The Commercial Gold divinity, beyond commodification, could also perform monetization—because money itself is a special kind of commodity.
Through monetization, rituals of the same category could be made interchangeable. After monetizing the Great Wild Rite, it became “ritual currency.” Dorothy could use that to purchase progress in her own Heaven’s Return Rite.
In essence, she transferred the Great Wild Rite’s progress into her own ritual—leaping forward a full stage.
Rituals of a main god and a subordinate god differ fundamentally. Even if the Great Wild Rite—led by the True Spirit Shaman—was overachieved, once monetized, it could only contribute 10% to Dorothy’s ritual.
But that was all she needed.
So, even though Suun still slept, his ritual ended up doing enormous good.
“The power of Commercial Gold… truly limitless in possibility… Leaving it in the hands of a clown might’ve been a mistake…”
From the side of the tea table, the parrot-shaped Plague Vulture muttered with a note of awe, having now fully grasped what had just transpired.
“I always estimated that giving you the Commercial Gold divinity would be dangerous, but I didn’t expect it to be this dangerous… Had I known, I’d have risked war with the Craftsmen’s Guild and Radiance Church to consume that clown myself…”
The Plague Vulture sighed. Dorothy responded with her usual smile.
“There are no ‘what ifs’ in history. At least… not for you.”
Dorothy’s words were calm. The Plague Vulture fell silent, as if in deep thought. Then it spoke again, voice heavy.
“This war… isn’t over yet.”
“I know~”
Dorothy replied lightly. She downed the last of her coffee, stood up, and placed the empty cup and saucer to the side. She fetched a stool, placed it beside a bookshelf, stepped up, and began feeling around the top.
“I remember it was here… ah—got it.”
She pulled down a dusty wooden board. After stepping down, she blew the dust from its surface and carried it back to the tea table. Then, she sat down again.
What she laid on the table was an old chessboard—a traditional xiangqi (Chinese chess) board, without any pieces.
It sat between Dorothy and the silent Mother of Chalice, as if the two were preparing to begin a match.
“This is my first time playing on this board. You’ve played many matches over countless cycles, haven’t you?
“Please go easy on me…”
As she spoke, Dorothy reached for the scattered trinkets beside the table and picked up a brass toy soldier—similar in shape to a nutcracker. The moment it touched her hand, the toy began to reshape, collapsing inward and transforming…
It became a chess piece—a brass chariot, or rook.
“Mother…”
Seeing Dorothy’s actions, the Plague Vulture turned to the elven matron beside it. The Mother of Chalice, after gently smoothing the parrot’s feathers one last time, shimmered with red light. When the glow faded, the parrot had changed—into a different piece.
A bishop, or elephant.
“Then… let’s begin.”
Still smiling, Dorothy gently placed her piece onto the chessboard.
…
Universal Calendar, October 24th, 1997 – City of Truth-Tree, Eastern Mulberry Nation.
Autumn. A gentle breeze blew.
Having endured the peak of summer, the city had finally welcomed a more pleasant season. Under the crisp and refreshing autumn skies, countless students found their holidays drawing to an end. The once-quiet school campus, far from the city’s towering buildings, had grown lively once more in recent days.
Around midday, atop the bustling school’s rooftop, a girl with short black hair, a well-shaped face, and clad in a standard sailor uniform was seated in the shadow cast by a water tank. She nibbled on bread for lunch while scrolling on her phone. On the screen was what appeared to be a news broadcast.
“Breaking news from the Southern Seas frontline: Our fearless soldiers have repelled an attack by the sea demon swarm on the Nine Rivers Islands. The vicious creatures have all been driven back into the ocean. The operation was carried out by the 5th Free Brigade, reportedly equipped with new weapons developed by the Order-Structure Consortium, achieving outstanding results. According to analysis by the Grand Archive, the victory at Nine Rivers…”
“Another victory, huh?”
Watching the news scroll across her screen, the black-haired girl licked the breadcrumbs from her lips and paused, deep in thought.
“We’ve been winning more and more lately… that’s good, I guess.
But why does it feel like no matter how many battles we win, the war never ends?
Are those sea bugs endless?”
As she pondered this, she suddenly sensed someone approaching—and with them, an energetic greeting.
“Hey! Cheri-chan~ There you are. What a coincidence! Let’s eat together!”
At the voice beside her, the black-haired girl glanced over. A blonde girl in the same sailor uniform had plopped down next to her with a bento box in hand.
“My name is Cheri Inomiya. You could at least call me Inomiya-san… Heiko Fuyumura.”
“Aww, don’t be so cold. We’ve known each other forever, Cheri-chan~”
Heiko’s voice stretched with cheerfulness. Seeing her reaction, Cheri simply shrugged and resumed eating her bread while scrolling her phone—seemingly accepting her presence.
“Thanks, Cheri-chan~”
Seeing that she wasn’t being chased away, Heiko smiled in gratitude and began eating her bento. While doing so, she glanced curiously at Cheri’s phone.
“I didn’t know you were into this kind of news, Cheri-chan. Are you thinking of joining the military after graduation? With your athletic ability, you’d definitely be fine.”
“Hmph… It’s too soon for me to be thinking about that. What about you, Heiko? What do you want to do after graduation?”
Cheri deflected the question by tossing it back. Heiko responded thoughtfully.
“Me? I want to join the Vania Holy Mother Association after graduation. It’s a place where I could really help those who need it. If I could get in…”
Heiko’s eyes sparkled as she described her dream. Cheri listened seriously beside her. But then—
BOOM!!
“What—?!”
A deafening explosion shook the school grounds. The earth trembled violently. A gaping hole opened up in the middle of the schoolyard. From it emerged a towering worm-like creature, nearly ten meters tall, covered in writhing red tendrils. Its tentacles thrashed wildly in all directions, lunging toward any living thing.
A piercing wave of screams tore through the entire campus.
“Th-this is…”
Heiko stood frozen in shock at the sight of the grotesque creature. Cheri, wide-eyed, muttered in disbelief.
“A Sea Demon Worm? And a C-class or higher, by the look of it!
“Why is something this strong here?! We’re in the rear lines, aren’t we?! Don’t we have warriors fighting on the front?! Why is this happening—?!”
Her mind raced. As the monstrous creature turned its head in her direction, a chill ran down her spine. Without hesitation, she grabbed Heiko’s trembling hand.
“Run!!”
...
Universal Calendar, October 24th, 1997 – The Truth-Tree Ground Raid Incident, Eastern Mulberry Nation.
A supposedly safe city in the rear was ambushed.
Numerous Deep Sea Demons surged up from underground and attacked the surface. These enemies of humanity launched a simultaneous assault on the entire city. Air raid sirens blared, throwing the districts into chaos.
“Emergency alert! Emergency alert! Hostile bioforms detected! All citizens must immediately evacuate to the nearest safety facility! Please evacuate—”
In the chaotic streets surrounding the school, emergency broadcasts echoed. In the midst of the panicked crowd, Cheri Inomiya gritted her teeth as she sprinted, scanning her surroundings—clearly searching for someone.
“Damn it… Where did Heiko go at a time like this…”
Pushed by desperation, she broke away from the crowds and fled into the deserted backstreets of the city. There, while searching, she stumbled upon something unexpected: a man in a business suit, lying collapsed and barely breathing.
“Hey—are you okay? Were you attacked by the bugs?! Hold on—!”
Cheri knelt beside him in concern. But to her surprise, the man suddenly reached out and gripped her wrist.
“Y-you…”
“Take this… take this and get it to Base 017… It’s just south of here, beneath Mount Kengyou… Please… you must take it…”
With trembling hands, the man pulled out a blood-soaked small box and handed it to her. After a moment of hesitation, Cheri accepted the box—only to see the man slump lifelessly in front of her.
She stared in stunned silence, then opened the box in her hands.
Inside was a neatly placed black card.
…
Universal Calendar, October 24th, 1997 – Eastern Mulberry Nation, Underground South Truth-Tree – Oceanic Defense Army Base 017.
After countless hardships and complications, the black-haired girl, Cheri Inomiya, successfully reached her destination.
Hiding in the shadows of an underground hangar deep within the base, she peered at the group of people arguing in the workshop. Among them were scientists in white coats and officers in military uniforms.
“You can’t do this! The Shadowblade Unit is the only hope left to save this city! You can’t just take it away!”
A researcher shouted desperately. The officer across from him clearly had no intention of listening.
“This city is finished. We must immediately relocate critical assets to a safe zone. That unit is still in experimental phase. The keycard’s missing. We haven’t even selected a suitable pilot. There’s no way it can be deployed now. If it stays, those sea bugs will just destroy it!
“If you don’t want everyone’s hard work to be for nothing—Get out of the way!”
The officer barked at those in his way. From her hiding spot, Cheri blinked and turned her gaze toward what they were arguing over.
There, on a work platform, stood a massive ten-meter-tall steel giant. Coated in black armor, its structure was laced with interlocking machinery—slim and fluid in form, like a coiled beast ready to spring.
“Is that… a mecha? A new model from the Oceanic Defense Army?”
Cheri whispered in awe. Then she glanced at the black card in her hand, her mind swirling with thoughts.
“That… Can it really save this city…?”
…
Universal Calendar, October 24th, 1997 – Truth-Tree City Shelter.
The hastily assembled rear guard was effortlessly wiped out.
Massive, deformed monsters broke through all defenses and shattered the shelter walls, barging into the main hall packed with refugees.
Desperate screams echoed in the confined space. The fleshbeasts greedily devoured everything they could reach. There was no room for escape—only fear remained.
“N-no… please…”
Slumped in a corner, Heiko trembled as she watched the monster approach. Her heart sank into despair. She could only pray against the cruel reality that loomed ahead.
Until—
A shadow streaked past her.
In the blink of an eye, the monster was sliced apart, bursting into countless fragments that fell like rain in a shower of blood.
Heiko stared, stunned. In a daze, she whispered.
“A black… robot…?”
…
Universal Calendar, November 7th, 1997 – Oceanic Defense Army Base V8.
In a pure-white interrogation room, a black-haired girl in an orange prison uniform sat before a stark white table. Her hands were cuffed, her eyes vacant as she stared at the tall officer in front of her—he held a folder and spoke calmly.
“So... the verdict is out?”
Cheri Inomiya asked flatly. The tall officer gave a nod and spoke sternly.
“Stealing and piloting a top-secret military weapon without authorization… it’s hard to imagine a fifteen-year-old girl pulling off something like that. You should know—under charges this severe, your age won’t protect you.”
“….”
Cheri remained silent, her expression darkening further. The officer cleared his throat and continued.
“Your crime can’t be overlooked. But neither can the seventy-one D-Class, twenty C-Class, and one B-Class enemy corpses found scattered across Truth-Tree. Are you aware… your results in one hour surpassed the Fifth Free Brigade’s entire month of battle achievements?
“And that… isn’t something the Shadowblade Unit could have done on its own.”
Upon hearing that, a faint gleam returned to Cheri’s eyes. At that moment, the officer placed a document in front of her.
“The Central Think Tank has issued a resolution. You will be the official pilot of Shadowblade.”
…
Universal Calendar, January 5th, 1998 – Cheri Inomiya officially enlists in the Oceanic Defense Army.
February 3rd – The Battle of Dyadek breaks out. Cheri joins the combat as reinforcements. Victory achieved by the 4th.
April 12th – Battle of Red Tree Island. Cheri joins the mobile corps; objective achieved by nightfall.
August 12th – Long Ring City operation succeeds.
November 28th – Battle of Geid Glacier succeeds. Cheri alone eliminates half the enemy force.
Universal Calendar, March 17th, 1999 – Escort mission in the Siken Desert. Cheri wipes out all hostiles ahead of time, completing the mission early.
June 24th – Successful defense of the “Phaethon” lunar solar base.
July – Cheri earns the title “Black Reaper.”
August…
September…
Universal Calendar, February 2000 – Cheri encounters A-Class commander “Hand of Decay.” Outmatched, she retreats.
September 23rd, 2000 – Onboard the Vania Holy Mother Church's Sanctification Chapel Space Station, Cheri defeats the Hand of Decay.
…
In the debris-filled void of space, Cheri Inomiya floated within her weaponized mecha Shadowblade. Seated in the cockpit, she stared through sensors at the humanoid carcass before her—a grotesque, decaying mass, barely resembling anything alive.
“Cough… hah… I didn’t expect you to grow this much in just a few months. I truly underestimated you, Black Reaper… it seems you really are this world’s fated one…”
Using a special vocal organ, the high-ranked sea demon known as Hand of Decay rasped out its final words. From within her cockpit, Cheri responded with curiosity.
“Fated one? What do you mean?”
“It means someone destined to fight… beings like us.”
“I’m already fighting you,” Cheri said bluntly.
But the decaying figure shook its head.
“No. A Fated One’s battle isn’t just here and now. It spans past and future… and not just this world. There are other worlds. Your fight didn’t start recently—it’s been going on for a long time, and it will continue into the endless future…”
The creature continued to speak, but Cheri didn’t seem interested in making sense of it.
“Trying to stay alive with cryptic babbling isn’t going to work. The scales have tipped. Your entire species is finished. This war between humans and sea demons… is almost over.”
“No… it’s far from over…”
The Hand of Decay gave its final monologue.
“Our war… is merely a small part of a far greater war. A tiny, tiny part… And that war is far from ending…”
As its body faded, its final breath gave out. All that remained was Cheri, seated in her cockpit, eyes sharp in thought.
“A grander… war beyond this one…”
…
After defeating the Hand of Decay, Cheri Inomiya was awarded the highest honors. But her fight was far from over.
As humanity’s counteroffensive began, more battlefronts pushed toward the sea demons’ stronghold.
February 2001 – Battle of the Dom Jungle
May – Battle of the Stormy Sea
August – Battle of the Tret Abyss
June 2002 – The Grand Rift Offensive begins. Oceanic Defense Army launches a full-scale assault on the sea demons’ base.
September – During the final assault on the Hive Core, legendary pilot Cheri Inomiya is ambushed by three S-Class enemies. All allied mechs suffer critical damage.
At the last moment, Cheri self-detonates a Null-Bomb, taking the Hive Core with her in a mutual annihilation.
…
“It’s over…”
As waves of energy surged, Cheri felt her mech disintegrate. Her own body was exposed to overwhelming destructive power.
In a single moment, all sensations vanished—without leaving a trace.
Then, after the collapse of perception, Cheri felt herself falling—sinking slowly into darkness. In the descent toward death, her consciousness began a final procession, a flickering montage of her past lives.
She saw herself…
…born to an ordinary family, growing up normally, attending school. The war between humans and non-humans was always distant—until the monsters attacked her city. By chance, she ended up piloting a powerful man-made machine to fight them.
She saw herself…
…born into a noble household, ruined by treachery and cast into the streets. Raised by an evil assassin guild, she was forged into a tool, murdering countless lives. In time, a band of heroes redeemed her. She slew the tyrant leader—one who wore human skin—and helped the heroes defeat a demon king who commanded a flesh-mutant army.
She saw herself…
…born into a military family. Trained from youth to be a soldier. In a world-devouring plague, she protected key scientists through waves of mutations—until they found a cure.
She saw herself…
…born beneath moonlight in a sacred forest. A hunter, answering divine will, eliminating those who disturbed its peace.
At the brink of death, Cheri remembered it all—not just one life, but many. She didn’t know where these memories came from, but they felt… real.
“Ugh… what is all this…”
Overwhelmed by the flood of foreign-yet-familiar recollections, Cheri grew confused. And at that moment, the darkness around her dissolved—and another vision appeared before her.
“This is…”
It was a magnificent, awe-inspiring sight.
Before her stretched a vast and endless space—radiant colors rippling throughout. In that brilliant space, she saw countless crystalline spheres, each floating gently. Upon their surfaces shimmered the glow of stars—almost as if galaxies were encased within them. These orbs stretched into infinity, dotting the vibrant void.
Cheri realized—one of the spheres hovered close. She felt she had just fallen out of that very sphere.
That world… had been a single sphere.
Now, she drifted in a space filled with endless others. An infinite array of worlds, all adrift in the void.
And two forces hovered above them.
One was a violet radiance, cascading down in arcane runes—like snow falling from the top of the void, soaking into the spheres below.
From beneath came a dreadful crimson glow, and from it stretched scarlet tendrils, winding their way around many of the worlds above…
Looking downward, one could see a crimson abyss—an ocean of filth encircling it like a massive maw, endlessly swirling into a vortex of flesh and blood. All those tendrils reaching out toward every world originated from this very vortex.
Looking upward, one could see a violet firmament. Innumerable arcane characters and formulas filled the entire sky, spread across the void. These symbols, following specific patterns, orbited like celestial bodies, and at the center of all those stellar paths was a titanic, radiant violet eye, dominating the field of vision as it hung silently above—gazing down upon the scarlet abyss below. The runic starpaths encircling the eye continually descended, transforming into drifting snowflakes and falling stars, embedding themselves into the world spheres.
Two supreme powers—mighty beyond all imagination—now ruled over this endless void. They contended with each other, vying for control of these world spheres, each transformed from a finite universe.
They were the absolute sovereigns of all realms and domains. Their divine battle had penetrated every world, every domain, every corner, every faultline and contradiction. Their war was an eternal one—so vast and ancient that the rise and fall of a civilization amounted to less than a ripple in its span.
Cheri Inomiya saw…
Those worlds claimed by the crimson were dragged into the abyss, bound by writhing tendrils.
Those redeemed by wisdom ascended one by one, becoming part of the starpaths.
The world she had just exited—the one where the name "Cheri Inomiya" was engraved—was now ascending, becoming a star, having been won in this eternal struggle. In that minor world, the forces of the everlasting war had found resolution—and it was Cheri Inomiya herself who had led it to victory.
Suspended in the void, Cheri floated in a daze. Her mind was flooded with countless memories, disordered and conflicting. She couldn’t even be sure of her true name anymore. In each life, in each battle, she had worn a different name. She kept reaching upward—tracing back, deeper—until she remembered the name that carried true power. And when that name returned to her, the confusion in her eyes vanished instantly.
“I am… Artcheli… In the name of the divine… I am a Fated One… I carry out the destiny decreed by the Fate Sovereign…”
Recalling the name of a Saint, Artcheli’s fractured sense of self came back together. Her dazed expression regained its resolve. She now remembered her mission.
She was but a pawn in the hands of the great Fate Sovereign—one piece on a vast board, fighting back against all corruption on countless battlefields. Again and again and again… she fought this endless war.
A pawn—everything was a pawn. She carried with her the destiny of the Fate Sovereign, clashing constantly with the pawn of the crimson player, locked in perpetual battle.
And now, Artcheli had won this round. She would advance to the next battle.
As she resumed her journey, the world she had just liberated merged into the heavenly starpaths. The colossal violet eye seemed to grow even more radiant for a moment. In contrast, far below, the abyss of flesh and blood imperceptibly contracted—just slightly.
After untold eons of conflict, the balance of this eternal war… seemed to have begun to tip.