From the highest reaches of the sky, the demon fell.
Wesker’s descent was anything but ordinary .. his demonic body sank slowly into the abyss as his magnificent wings crumbled into something resembling ash.
Gehrman’s final strike had carved a colossal cavity into Wesker’s chest. The freezing frostfire tore through a vast portion of his demonic body, continuing to burrow deeper, annihilating what little remained.
From above, Gehrman gazed down at Wesker with weary eyes, his face now riddled with cracks, as though he were a statue weathered by the relentless passage of time.
"Wesker... you were long regarded as one of the greatest masters of fate in this world—one who toyed with destiny as though it were nothing more than a tool to serve his ambitions."
Gehrman raised his hand as the temporal rings of the Ruler’s Hand shattered and dissolved.
"You were mistaken, Demon of the Fourth Rank. Fate is not something beings like us can truly manipulate. We are strong enough to create ripples, yes—but in the end, the current of destiny will continue to flow exactly as it was meant to, regardless of our will."
"The most we can do... is attempt to exploit that current for our own gain. That is what the Demon King did to me in the distant past ..
and what I have done to you today."
This time, the King’s Eye could not save Wesker. The immense power he had received from the Demon King failed to grant him victory.
Wesker’s fall—and his gradual disintegration into ash—was a mesmerizing sight, one that drew the eyes of both Gehrman and Abraham Starlight, who still stood nearby after barely surviving the earlier assault of the perfect domain.
Abraham stared at Wesker for a brief moment... then shifted his gaze toward Gehrman.
Abraham was sharp-minded, observant, and cautious by nature.
The final battle had stirred countless questions in his mind regarding the Engineer.
"Just how far did that man plan ahead...?
How much of this did he foresee?"
Setting aside their overwhelming victory, Abraham resolved to remain wary of Gehrman. This man might be an even more dangerous manipulator than Wesker—perhaps even stronger.
Naturally, Gehrman was fully aware of Abraham’s thoughts. He knew him well, having observed him for a long time.
The father was far more perceptive than the son.
And speaking of the son ..
Frey Starlight was still down below, watching Wesker’s fall with disbelief etched across his face.
"That cursed demon... Wesker—no, Aegon... fell?
It’s over? He’s dead?"
Holding the unconscious Ada in his arms, Frey could scarcely believe what he was seeing.
Wesker had always been several steps ahead of them. His downfall felt utterly unreal.
Without realizing it, Frey had developed a deep-seated fear of the Fourth-Rank Demon through their repeated clashes.
No matter what he did—no matter how hard he tried—it felt as though he would always remain nothing more than a pawn in the palm of that monster’s hand.
And yet, there he was... falling before Frey’s very eyes, struck down by the blue-eyed Engineer .. Gehrman.
"He said his name was Saint Gehrman...
What kind of man was he in the past?"
Frey wondered as his gaze turned toward Gehrman .. whose reflection appeared not only in Frey’s eyes, but also in those of Nameless, who was witnessing the same scene.
"..."
Nameless said nothing.
His current existence was incomplete and hollow .. nothing more than memories and information stored within the mask. Memories that had taken his present form, far removed from his true self and original personality.
And yet, even this fragmented incarnation remembered Gehrman with absolute clarity .. the strongest man within the Shadow Sect, and the perfect vessel Nameless had once created.
Nameless had found Gehrman on Irethiel, the frozen planet that had once suffered the brutal onslaught of the demons.
The Fireborn who lived on Irethiel were considered one of the most powerful races in existence, harboring one of the Seven Great Powers within their ranks, alongside numerous legendary warriors.
But when the demons invaded in the distant past .. led by Agaroth himself .. it was not Fulgor, the Sixth among the Seven Great Powers, who confronted the Demon King.
Instead, it was someone else entirely.
A warrior with no lineage or heritage—merely a wandering fighter.
Yet his power and dignity were so overwhelming that he was given a title:
The Saint.
Gehrman fought Agaroth that day... and died by the Demon King’s hand.
Even in death, however, he fought a battle that satisfied Agaroth himself .. so much so that the Demon King acknowledged his strength. Gehrman had inflicted genuine damage upon him.
Thanks to that battle, the demons failed to conquer Irethiel in its entirety. The planet became an anomaly .. partially claimed by the demons, while another portion remained under the control of the Fireborn.
As time passed, half the planet perished... while the other half endured.
All of it .. the result of a single man’s efforts.
But what was never recorded, what was erased from history, was something that occurred far from all eyes .. something no one ever spoke of.
On that battlefield where Gehrman and Agaroth clashed... there had been a third presence.
Someone who witnessed everything .. and intervened in the end.
That person was none other than Nameless himself.
It was his first encounter .. and his first clash .. with Agaroth.
An encounter no one knew had ever happened, for the world believed their first confrontation took place many years later.
Nameless fought Agaroth that day, becoming the direct reason Irethiel survived.
These events existed within the memories of Nameless’s current self... yet something was missing.
That first meeting between Agaroth and Nameless ..
On that day, the Demon King had said something.
Something crucial. Something decisive. Something immensely important.
But the present Nameless found himself unable to reconstruct those memories properly. He could not recall what Agaroth had said .. and that troubled him deeply.
Why were those memories sealed away?
He clearly remembered the Demon King’s face from that day .. his long black hair writhing like tendrils, his blood-red eyes, his deathly pale visage shrouded in swirling darkness... and that solemn, reverent smile.
Nameless felt that he had forgotten something crucial about that day—something he had to remember.
Yet it seemed that now was not the time for that memory to resurface.
Later on, Nameless took Gehrman and made him part of his private experiments.
Gehrman was exceptionally powerful; his soul was not easy to manipulate, nor was it simple to construct a vessel capable of enduring such overwhelming strength.
It became the ultimate, absolute test of Nameless’s philosophy of life and death—one that resulted in the most perfect vessel ever created.
And that vessel... was the present-day Engineer: Gehrman.
A man like him was never merely a subordinate, but someone with his own thoughts .. his own hidden ambitions, unknown to anyone else.
So what exactly did Gehrman seek?
And what drove him to struggle for so many years, until time itself had worn him down?
Neither Frey nor the current Nameless knew the answer.
It was a secret destined to remain concealed for a while longer.
But today... Wesker had fallen.
Frey watched that fall when a sudden, violent wave of dizziness struck his head, forcing his eyes to half-close.
"Damn it... I still can’t fully grasp my current state..." Frey cursed, unable yet to gain complete control over the new powers he had obtained.
He had unlocked two additional stages of Shadow Adaptation, yet he was still unfamiliar with what those stages truly granted him.
All of this was accompanied by an ominous sensation that had not left him since the battle began ..
As if something lurked in the very air around him.
Something whose closest description was... death.
"There’s something wrong... something I can’t pinpoint."
Frey scanned his surroundings while tightening his grip around Ada .. her protection was his highest priority.
Elsewhere, Wesker’s body finally crashed into the ground, much of it already crumbling into ash.
The Fourth-Rank Greater Demon was in a state he had never experienced before in his entire existence.
His terrifying face was drenched in blood, and only the King’s Eye still pulsed with faint life; aside from its crimson glow, the light had vanished from his other eyes.
At that moment, Abraham joined Gehrman’s side.
"Shouldn’t we finish him with another strike?" Abraham asked.
Gehrman shook his head.
"No. He won’t survive my final attack. The eternal frost will completely destroy him soon."
There was no room for error .. Gehrman was certain Wesker could no longer fight.
Yet Abraham was unconvinced. He extended his hand, forming a sword of pure light.