Meanwhile, the Outer God Itarim, facing Beru in the sky, suddenly became aware of its own expression.
[…Ah.]
Why was it? The corners of its mouth, which had been contorted in fury as it shed tears of blood from one eye… were now, at some point, raised in a wide grin. A small ripple, the first in a long time, had formed within its vast consciousness, which had persisted since time immemorial. All these novel situations unfolding before its eyes caused something to stir within it.
'Interest'
This was a fresh stimulus, tasted for the first time in an eternity of boredom. A laugh suddenly escaped.
[Heh…]
Itarim was fundamentally a creator god.
Crafting being from nothingness.
Establishing laws.
Granting life.
All those processes had been perfectly completed at some point in antiquity. The near-infinite time that followed was merely a repetition of the same scenery. Simply a boring, tedious, and meaningless eternity. In that infinite cycle, all the events occurring within the world it had created had never deviated a single inch from its predictions. War, peace, birth, death. All things were merely cogs turning on a predetermined track. Truly… it was tedious. It was loathsome.
But…
[Kieeeeeek!]
Behold that being, 'Beru'. The more he fought, the stronger he became. He chewed and swallowed the flesh of his enemies, 'devouring' even their abilities as his own, evolving at a rapid pace. Countless Apostles of Annihilation, created solely to kill that one insect, attacked him endlessly. Every imaginable form of death poured down upon him.
[Kieeeeeeeeeeeek!]
Swish-swish-swish-swish-swish-swish-swish-swish!
…He was tearing through it all head-on. Running amok here and there. Truly, he was rampaging like a fly that had gotten inside a house.
Crack!
Even if his jet-black exoskeleton shattered in the process.
Rip!
Even if his wings were torn away.
Crunch! Crack!
Even if his limbs were ripped off entirely.
Chwaaaaaak—!
He did not die.
A ceaselessly blazing black steam. From the torn wounds, black mana, not blood, gushed out like a fountain, instantly forming a new body. And then.
Chomp! Crunch!
He chewed and swallowed. He bit and tore. Even at the moment his own arm was being bitten off, the madness of him counter-biting and swallowing the opponent's head was electrifying.
[Marshal Beru evolves through 'Predation'.]
[Marshal Beru consumes the ability of the Apostle of Annihilation: 'Ignore Defense'.]
[Marshal Beru consumes immunity to the Apostle of Annihilation: 'Lethal Venom'.]
[Marshal Beru…]
No matter what new, skilled apostle he created before him, the moment even one of them entered the creature's stomach, he became that much stronger. An enemy that grew stronger the more it fought. An immortal berserker. That was precisely the Shadow Monarch's prized, strongest strategic weapon…
[Kieeeeeeeeeeeek! Still not enough!]
'Beru.'
[It has been truly long since a battle like this! Come at me as you please! No one can stop me today!]
A madness that defies death. A chaos that does not follow set laws. An unpredictable variable.
Watching this violently pulsating chaos… Itarim's stopped heart began to beat, ever so faintly. If one were to compare this beat to the emotions of created beings… yes, it was pleasant. An irony. His creations were being torn apart before his eyes, his authority being denied head-on. The emotion of 'anger', should be felt by a primordial god. But stronger than that was the 'pleasure' derived from the very fact of feeling this anger!
This violent wave of emotion was an unparalleled stimulus for the Outer God, who had existed since antiquity. Like blessed rain falling on a parched wilderness for the first time in tens of thousands of years.
[Heh, heheh, hwahahahahahahaha!]
Had the madness spread? The mad laughter erupting from Itarim's mouth soon became a will, influencing his creations.
Kiaaaaaaah!
Kyaooooooo!
The Apostles of Annihilation attacking Beru began to mutate into forms incomparably more grotesque and ferocious than before. But the direction of that creation had shifted slightly. If the apostles until now were simply weapons 'for annihilating the enemy,' from now on, rather than overwhelming efficiency, he began to craft works of art that could inflict the most horrific, most painful deaths, mobilizing all his imagination and authority. At this moment, he was not a creator god, but an artist who enjoyed destruction. It was then.
"Beru! I've come to support you!"
[Kieeeeeek! Young Master! You have come!]
Just in time, Sung Jinwoo's son, Sung Suho, soared up, cutting through the battlefield. Having instantly seized control of the flow on the ground, he led all the Shadow Soldiers, rushing into the sky. The winged soldiers flew directly, while those without flight capabilities boarded the giant demon ships led by Esil. That fleet, which had once drifted on the Sea of the Afterlife, now covered the skies of the Outer God's word. That grand and majestic scenery was chillingly similar to the Shadow Legion led by the Shadow Monarch.
[Ahhh…!]
Itarim watching the sight, let out a gasp as if in a trance. The board had gotten bigger. The stage had widened. Finally, the main actors had made their grand entrance in this play of apocalypse he was directing. How delightful!
Fwaaaaaaah—!
Simultaneously, its vast consciousness discovered it. Beyond the legion of darkness, the 'gaze' of the Shadow Monarch Sung Jinwoo, staring this way from within Beru. The moment it recognized that existence, Itarim's amusement reached its peak.
'Death'
That concept, which could never exist for a god. Transcending a realistic threat, it approached as an exhilarating and stimulating 'possibility.'
Good heavens! A creator god dying at the hands of his creation! What a contradictory, interesting, and novel experience!
[Yes, come! Let us adorn the end of this festival together!]
Before long, Itarim's voice was filled with pure ecstasy.
Chwaak—
He stretched out his arm. His will reached the abyss of the universe. The god's authority forcibly grabbed and stretched the distorted space-time. Then, far beyond a distant nebula, a single, brilliant streak of light, drifting off its orbit… an asteroid moving at tremendous speed, sharply changed its direction and was dragged into Itarim's grasp.
Kwaaaaaaa—
Itarim caught that asteroid with his bare hands and threw it.
Towards Beru. Towards Suho. And towards this entire dimension he had created and ruled for long ages!
[Kieek?! Young Master! It is dangerous!]
Beru shrieked, blocking Suho's path. Numerous Shadow Soldiers gathered to protect him.
Kwaaaaaaaaaaaaaaang—!
Immediately after, the asteroid thrown by the Outer God descended at a furious speed. Planet collided with planet.
Ruuuuuumble!
Destruction.
Collapse.
The entire world screamed as it fell apart.
At the center of that great destruction, Itarim, feeling its own body being torn apart, burst into ecstatic laughter.
[Kuhahahahahaha…!]
It was thrilling. This was by no means the final struggle of one sensing defeat. It was the madness of a director, intending to decorate the final act of the play he had prepared in the most spectacular and grand manner.
[Tsk. Gods, honestly.]
At this moment, there was only one being who could fully understand that emotion. Antares, once the king of dragons and the Monarch who presided over destruction, frowned. Only he noticed the 'other side' of the pure destruction Itarim was now executing.
The Outer God was now offering his own world, his own creations, and even himself as a sacrifice, attempting to complete a single, brilliant destruction that would end his eternal boredom. Simultaneously, at the end of that destruction, he was preparing the most twisted form of 'creation.'
―――――――――!
Itarim spread his arms wide.
[God's Tool: 'Stage of the Lonely God' is activated.]
That final declaration was engraved as a new law throughout the collapsing dimension. It was the law of creation, beginning simultaneously with vast destruction.
Flash!
With the collision of the planets, a brilliant light engulfed the entire world. Simultaneously, Itarim's low voice penetrated Suho.
[Did you enjoy the dream so far, little god?]
That voice held no mockery, but a strange intimacy, as if addressing a companion who had enjoyed the play alongside him.
[We Itarim always crave new amusement. While you were doing this with me, what kind of events do you think are unfolding in your now-empty world? Simply put, now is the perfect time for the other Itarim, not me, to devour that empty dimension.]
Imagining it was so enjoyable that Itarim's lips curled into a sinister smile.
[Hahahaha….]
Simultaneously, his mad laughter echoed, and a brilliant flash swallowed everything.
And then.
Kieeeeeeeeeek…!
[…Young… Master…!]
Flash!
"…Hah?!"
When Suho opened his eyes again, everything had already changed.
"Hm? Suho, what's wrong all of a sudden?"
"What's the matter, son. Did you doze off while eating? Shall I get you some coffee? Are you not fully awake?"
"…?!"
Suho couldn't help but be horrified. Right before his eyes… were 'Father' and 'Mother'!
No! He was currently sitting and eating with his parents! At home, as always. Normally!
Suho shot up from his seat in shock and cried out.
"D-Dad?!"
"What?"
"M-Mom?"
"Suho, if you're so sleepy, go rest some more and then come out. You only have afternoon classes today anyway."
"…Classes?"
At those words, Suho's mind went blank for a moment.
[…Young… Master…]
Zap!
"Kuk!"
A sudden headache struck. For a moment, it seemed like he heard a hallucination, but the voice quickly receded with the headache. As if heard from beyond dozens of walls.
"Suho, what's wrong? Are you okay?"
Simultaneously, what enveloped Suho was his mother's gentle voice, the warm smell of soup, the clattering of dishes. And his father's gaze, looking away from the news to watch him with concern. The warmth of this all-too-perfect 'daily life' surrounded Suho.
"You must be very tired. You were drawing until late last night, are the assignments that hard?"
"Hm. Did I make a mistake sending him to art school…"
Before his parents' concern, Suho couldn't say a word. His mind was in chaos. War? Monarchs? Itarim? The more he struggled to remember, the more those memories blurred like ink spreading in water. This peaceful and ordinary reality was insisting that all past memories were just a dream.
Rustle rustle…
Rustle rustle, rustle rustle…
And it felt like even those memories were being eaten away from the front, disappearing at a rapid pace like being gnawed by insects. Finally, Suho realized 'reality.'
"I am…"
His name was Sung Suho. He was 'Sung Suho, a freshman in the Painting Department at Hankuk University.' Twenty years old, born into an ordinary and harmonious family, living an ordinary life. A freshman who had recently passed the entrance exams and been admitted to the university he aimed for.
Before that, his parents went missing… it seemed he had dreamt something like that, but in the end, it was a dream. See, aren't his parents sitting right here before his eyes?
So this must be the real 'reality'…
But why…?
"…"
Looking down at his own hands, it felt as if he could sense the touch of a blood-stained dagger instead of the familiar pencil and brush. Suho looked up again with a confused expression. And looking at his father's face before him, he asked.
"Dad… Who am I?"
"What? Did you suddenly hit puberty or something?"
At his son's out-of-the-blue question, 'Sung Jinwoo' chuckled and replied. His unfathomably deep eyes gazed intently at his son, who was not yet fully awake from sleep. And he asked.
"Why? Still dazed by the fact that your dad was the Shadow Monarch?"
'…?!'
"Or, that your mom suddenly awakened as an S-rank Hunter?"
'…?!'
Only after hearing those words did Suho finally become aware of all the reality of this world. Just then, the urgent voice of the news anchor, which his father had been watching, came through clearly.
– This is breaking news!
– A new S-rank Gate has appeared at Hapjeong Station! In response, the Hunter Association has immediately requested cooperation from Hunter Sung Jinwoo…!
"Hm. Another one appeared…"
Suho's father, Sung Jinwoo, who was watching the news, leisurely stood up. Then, Suho's mother, Cha Hae-In, brought a black coat and draped it over his shoulders, speaking gently.
"Be careful. Ah, and Suho?"
Cha Haein slightly turned her head, looking at her still half-asleep son, and said.
"Leave things like that to your dad, you just hurry up, wash your face and go to school. You got into the university you wanted, you have to draw diligently today too, right?"
"…Yes."
Suho's complexion eased as he nodded. Indeed, that was right. Gates, Hunters, magical beasts. No matter how grim the world had become since the Cataclysm, he had nothing to worry about anyway.
'Dad will take care of things like that anyway.'
After all, the only thing that he, a non-Awakened person, could do… was to faithfully live out this peaceful daily life that his Shadow Monarch father protected. No, even if he were to awaken to mana, nothing would change. Because his father was in this world anyway.
"I'm… off to school."