Gehrman died.
He died within a mausoleum—a desolate grave set upon a dead planet where no life remained, a place no one even knew existed.
There were no screams, no mourning... no tears—except for Shiva’s, as she collapsed to the ground, weeping when Gehrman’s vessel finally shattered.
She cried because she understood what that man had endured across endless ages, striving to fulfill an impossible task that would have broken anyone else.
And yet... he completed it perfectly. He gave his life, gave everything, to set the pieces in place and pave the way for his return.
His death was not grand, and no one would ever know of it—save for one. And still... it carried a weight heavy enough to change the course of history itself.
The Engineer had finally found rest, entrusting everything to the king he believed in ... the king who lay drowned in darkness, yet whose world had never shone brighter.
Seated around the quiet campfire—the refuge Frey Starlight always fled to whenever life cornered him—the place was dim, lit only by a fragile flame barely illuminating their faces. Darkness had always defined it. But today... was different.
Frey and his versions sat around the fire, and at the same moment, they all raised their heads toward that warm beam of light piercing their world. It was foreign... even frightening. Yet at the same time, it felt warm. Familiar.
Frey bathed in that light, closing his eyes and letting it wash over him—and all his versions did the same.
That purifying radiance brought peace... calm... and a quiet sense of solace. Through it, Frey finally felt the weight Gehrman had carried all those years.
Gradually, Frey’s versions began to fade, one after another—vanishing completely from existence.
From his earliest self, a simple writer who knew nothing of the world, to his final self who endured countless horrors... they all disappeared.
And with each one that vanished, the campfire dimmed. Its flames weakened, its light becoming insignificant compared to that overwhelming beam that bathed Frey’s body.
Within seconds, all the versions were gone. They found rest... and only two remained, standing side by side within the light.
Frey and Nameless opened their eyes at that moment. They looked at one another, then at the fire that once brought them peace and comfort—only to find it completely extinguished. Nothing remained.
"So... this is it. This time... it’s the last."
Frey spoke with a gentle smile, fully aware that this was the final time. There would be no more after this. A new version would be born—a stronger one. A final one. And after it... nothing else would follow.
The refuge was gone. The fire had died. All that remained was for the final version—the strongest—to carve the path forward.
Frey and Nameless stepped ahead, allowing the light to lift them upward. With firm resolve, they faced truths they had never known before.
With the armor, the sword, the mask, and the final power Gehrman preserved within him... everything had finally fallen into place.
Nameless regained his memories—his existence restored in full. And within those ancient memories, the truth had been carefully hidden, waiting for this exact moment.
Both of them faced it with tense nerves and pounding hearts, afraid of what they might see, yet driven by an overwhelming desire to know.
The beam of light carried them far away ... toward the place where it all began. Toward the origin of the man who wore the mask his entire life.
To Krat.
A planet that gave birth to a unique race—cold beings, like machines. No warmth in their hearts, no heat in their chests. They worshipped efficiency and logic, despising anything different... anything they deemed useless.
A highly advanced race, driven by innovation and scientific progress in every field. A civilization so far ahead that it surpassed all others by thousands of years—as if it had come from the future itself.
Nameless was born among them... and from the very beginning, he was the strangest of them all.
He possessed a peculiar nature that set him apart. Yes ... he was emotionless, just like them. Yes ... he shared their physical traits. Pale, almost lifeless skin. Hair ranging from gray to white. Eyes empty of life.
And yet... despite all those similarities, he was completely different.
The people of Krat worshipped work. They worshipped progress, spending their days building and innovating in pursuit of perfection. But him... he was often seen sitting alone, doing nothing.
Watching in silence. Wandering without a word, as if his mind existed in a world far beyond his body.
He never tried to keep up with them, never took part in what they did. Even his parents failed to understand him. He lived within his own world ... nothing more.
They could not understand him... because he was simply different.
Nameless was born with unique abilities—powers no one could explain. They came neither from his parents nor from his lineage.
He saw visions. He foresaw the future.
He existed across past, present... and future at once.
When he passed by the towering structures built by his people—those magnificent creations ... he saw them differently.
In the present, he saw them as they were. In the next moment, he saw their past ... how they had once been built. And then... he saw their future .. how they would change with time.
It did not take long before Nameless discovered even more abilities growing within him ... powers that triggered an existential crisis, forcing that different being to question... his own identity.
"It was strange... even though I was born among them, I resembled them in nothing but the physical traits I inherited from a man and a woman who were supposedly my parents."
"Parents I never cared about... and who, in turn, never cared about me—especially once they realized how different I was."
Nameless spoke, standing beside Frey as both of them watched his childhood unfold.
"Your ability to see the future and the past... is that the Void?" Frey asked with curiosity.
Nameless both nodded... and shook his head at the same time.
"Yes... and no. To be precise... the Void is merely a derivative ability I forged from it, after I failed to control the original power."
Those visions were overwhelming. They did not simply show him the past and the future, but countless branching paths—endless variations of what could be.
It was as if he were trapped in a perpetual what if, witnessing every possibility unfold before him. Nameless tried to seize control of it... but he couldn’t.
In the end, all he managed to extract was the Void—a powerful visual ability, yes, but still nothing more than a pale imitation of something far greater, something he could never fully grasp.
"Your ability to see the future... was that what pushed you to search for the truth? The truth about yourself?" Frey asked, curiosity evident in his voice. Nameless fell silent for a moment before replying, his tone heavier.
"It was part of the reason... but not the main one."
Frey’s eyes narrowed slightly at that answer, his curiosity only growing sharper. "If that wasn’t it... then what was?"
Nameless lowered his head, thinking carefully about how to respond. Then, instead of answering directly, he chose something far more honest—he would let Frey see it for himself.
And so, the scene shifted.
It was a bleak, ordinary day on the planet Krat... a day no different from the countless others that came before it. Nameless was still a child then, barely ten years old.
Krat was vast—immensely so—and his kind were not the only beings who lived upon it. Creatures of many forms roamed its lands, some resembling animals, others closer to monsters.
Though Nameless’s race had claimed most of the planet, exploiting nearly every inch of it, there were still forests, mountains, and primitive wastelands left untouched ... places where other beings hid, far from the noise of progress and relentless advancement.
Nameless was known for visiting those places. People often saw him chasing small creatures ... beings that resembled squirrels from Earth.
Yet they were different here ... faster, far faster, with black fur and a small horn protruding from their foreheads.
He had been obsessed with chasing them since childhood. He would run after them for hours, tirelessly, until he managed to catch one.
Despite their overwhelming speed, his ability to glimpse the future allowed him to predict their movements. It made him the only one capable of keeping up with them... the only one capable of catching them.
And when he did ...
He would slowly snap their necks.
Ending their lives with his own hands.
Frey’s expression darkened the moment he witnessed that.
’Nameless... was chasing these creatures... just to kill them?’
What kind of child was this?
That was the thought that crossed his mind at that moment.
The scene repeated itself over and over, until it became something familiar—Nameless chasing those creatures through his foresight, catching them, killing them without hesitation.
"Were you trying to wipe them out or something?" Frey remarked sarcastically. Nameless let out a faint laugh as he stepped closer to his younger self.
"That’s exactly what my people thought."
His smile carried something strange—something that made Frey pause for a moment. Then he remembered... the one standing beside him was no longer that emotionless being.
He had changed.
He had grown.
He still held onto those emotions, even after reclaiming every fragment of his former self. He had not turned into the monster Frey once expected him to become.
He was still the same person.
Only his eyes had changed... as if he had aged countless years.