Nameless returned to the material world ...
And with it, lost the warmth of emotions once more.
Yet what he had seen... what he had lived through...
Remained.
A weight that never left him.
Tormented by it, he chose not to decide.
Not yet.
He postponed everything—
Until his existence was complete... until he could rebuild his shattered self.
And once he regained his power...
Once he became whole again—
He decided.
Using his Aether abilities and his advanced aura control...
He severed those memories from his mind entirely.
Along with his Aether-born powers.
He later entrusted them to Gehrman—
Who sealed them within his own body, making them part of himself...
Carrying them until the day came to return them to their rightful owner.
The reason he sealed his power as a Writer...
Was because he understood what Agaroth truly sought.
The Demon King wished to leave the material world ...
To witness the true Aether realm with his own eyes.
To achieve that, he had once tried to devour Frey entirely... along with his power.
He failed.
And since then... he waited.
For another opportunity.
Nameless knew—without a doubt—
That he would one day face Agaroth.
And that he would likely lose.
So he cast his power away ... understanding that Agaroth would not devour him if that power no longer existed within him.
That... was why Nameless was later able to return through Frey ...
And not fall victim to the monster that devours all.
It also explained why the Demon King kept Frey alive ..
Allowing him to grow stronger over time.
Breaking the seal was one reason.
But more importantly...
It was to restore Frey’s power—
So that he could devour it.
Nameless of the past had never cared for the war against demons.
Nor for saving the world.
But everything changed after he learned the truth.
From that day onward, he became a true leader of the Shadow Sect ...
Building the terrifying organization known across the world.
He abandoned his solitary nature.
Entered the war.
Fought the demons.
And stood against Agaroth.
In the end ... He sealed him.
At the cost of his own life.
But before all that...
He planned for a distant future ..
A future where the missing pieces of his existence would be gathered...
And his shattered self restored.
A task he entrusted to Gehrman ... After witnessing countless possible futures through his foresight.
It was an impossible mission.
One that required Gehrman to wander across worlds for countless years ...
Following a prophecy left behind by his master.
A prophecy that guided him in searching for a lost fragment ...
A fragment of an ancient being... lost since the beginning of time.
That prophecy was never precise.
It branched into countless paths...
Endless possibilities.
Earth was never the only destination.
Merely one... among hundreds.
Among thousands.
Yet Gehrman pursued every path... every possibility—wandering the vast cosmos in search of what his master had foreseen.
The blue-eyed man failed time and time again, each attempt ending in a dead end.
Years passed... and time wore him down.
With every failure, his vessel fractured a little more.
His power waned... diminished... until the once-great Saint Gehrman lost his brilliance, becoming nothing more than an ancient shadow cloaked in black.
A phantom drifting through the universe ... witnessing the rise of civilizations... and the fall of others.
Still, he endured.
He never once lost hope...
Until the prophecy led him—to Earth.
The planet where he finally found what he sought.
The path he knew without doubt ... was the right one.
From the very beginning, Frey and Nameless had been fragments of a single whole.
Neither could truly exist without the other.
Unlike the Pure Vessel ... whose soul had been split, giving rise to separate beings...
Orsted and Snow—both capable of existing simultaneously.
Frey and Nameless were different.
Only one could continue forward.
Because both belonged to a being that existed beyond the confines of the material world.
And so, Gehrman sought to restore Nameless... through Frey.
To achieve that, both had to reach their absolute limits ... drawing out every ounce of power within them.
That was why he pushed Frey so relentlessly ... forcing him to suffer again and again, until he grew stronger.
And in the final battle against Agaroth...
He succeeded.
Frey’s body reached the ultimate stage of SSS.
He even awakened his power as a Writer—burning his very soul to do so.
Thus... the fusion became possible.
At last, Gehrman made his move.
He brought Frey to the stage he had prepared long ago ... and placed every piece where it belonged.
The armor and the sword ... containing the remnants of Nameless’ power and his complete memories.
Frey’s body—awakened to its peak.
And the final piece...
The last memory sealed within Gehrman himself ... one that required his death to be released.
Without hesitation, he relinquished it.
And in doing so... fulfilled his mission perfectly.
From afar, Frey and the present Nameless witnessed everything—realizing that they had not only regained their own memories...
...but Gehrman’s as well.
His power.
His suffering.
All of it... had now become part of Frey.
Through this, they came to understand—if only a little—what that blue-eyed man had endured.
They saw his entire journey...
Just as they saw the journey of Nameless.
They saw everything.
And as they did, the two spoke ... about all they had lived through... all they had suffered.
About the truth of the world.
The truth of their family.
And what they must do from this point onward.
It was complicated.
Frey had discovered that his true family existed beyond ... within the Aether world.
Yet at the same time...
He had built another family within the material world.
A sister he cared for.
People he wished to see alive... and well.
Through both him and Nameless...
A new existence was about to be born.
The final one.
A being beyond which no other would emerge.
The complete self... of the entity known as Frey.
A version stronger than anything that had come before.
A being capable of wielding both aura... and the power of Writers.
A power great enough to rival that of the Demon King, Agaroth.
But the most important question remained ...
For what purpose... would such power be used?
Would it become the force that saves the world?
Or the one that destroys it?
The burden was immense.
No living being would willingly carry such weight.
And yet ...
In the end...
A decision had to be made.
A difficult one.
But unexpectedly...
For Frey and Nameless—it was simple.
The moment they stepped out of the light...
They looked at one another.
And the same thought reflected in both their eyes.
"There is no need to think... no need to decide."
"The path has already been drawn."
Frey spoke, a trace of calm in his voice, as he walked beside Nameless through what remained of their inner world .. their final sanctuary.
The sea of blood had vanished.
Along with it... every soul that had burned away in the last battle.
All but one.
Thanatos’ immortal soul—still burning quietly at the end of the spiritual world.
Nothing else remained.
Nothing... except one thing.
A sword.
A black blade, buried deep within the ground.
Behind it stretched a jagged, winding path ...
A path filled with darkness... and countless trials.
A path they had chosen together.
Long ago.
"The answer was always there."
"The truth of this world changes nothing."
"It only gave us the strength... to walk that path."
Holding fast to the road they had chosen...
Frey and Nameless closed their eyes.
Light erupted from them both at once—illuminating their inner world once more.
Their forms began to fade...
Preparing for the birth of their complete, final self.
The man who would walk the remainder of the path.
The one who would bring everything to an end.
The tragedy of the material world.
The Demon King.
The Mist.
The First Writer.
Everything... now rested upon his shoulders.
And both Frey and Nameless were certain of one thing—
He would not fail.
Because he was destined...
To become the strongest of all.
The man who never fell...
And never would.
All those sacrifices.
All that suffering...
Had been for his birth.
And so ...
The final countdown began.
Frey ... The most talented Writer among them all.
The son of the First Writer.
The man who authored the most perfect world of all.
The creator of Agaroth.
The one who halted the Pale Devastation.
Londor was chosen as the stage of his return ...
That dead planet... where all life had perished thousands of years ago.
He was reborn.
From within an ancient grave.
From beneath that lake of darkness ..
From the depths of absolute void.
He opened his eyes.
And at last...
He returned.