The world was still reeling from the aftermath of its downfall, and Ketzerah walked through the ruins without a sound. The earth didn't tremble, the grass didn't bend, and the wind seemed to avoid touching the hem of his black cloak, which flowed like the tendrils of a galaxy. Behind him, dust began to settle, softly like snow, but it brought no chill. It wasn't snow. It was the ash of a bygone era.
No one welcomed him. No one opposed him. Not because they were afraid. Because no one could define why they couldn't. He walked among the remnants of a city whose name the world had forgotten. Sacred pillars lay shattered like bones. Statues of gods were destroyed, their faces gaping. Rivers had dried up, as if the earth itself refused to flow water to this place anymore.
Ketzerah stopped. He gazed up at the sky. The sky was... empty. Not because the clouds had vanished. But because something that usually filled the sky—a will, hope, or destiny—had disappeared from this world. And he knew who was responsible.
Himself.
In the distance, from behind the rubble of a collapsed tower, a woman in battered armor raised her head. She coughed, blood trickling from the corner of her mouth. Her eyes fixed on the black silhouette approaching without a sound. Lyssaria. She was the last captain of the Knights of the Sun, guardians of the Temple of Great Light. She had witnessed her kingdom burn. She had plunged her sword into the body of a god gone mad from losing its worshippers. Yet none of it... had prepared her for this figure.
"What... creature are you?" she muttered softly, her hand gripping the broken sword.
The figure continued walking. His cloak didn't touch the ground, yet the earth dared not make a sound. "I don't know you," Lyssaria growled, trying to stand with trembling knees. "But if you're part of this destruction... I won't—"
She fell silent. The figure stopped. Just a few steps away from her. The gaze. It wasn't the gaze of a ruler. Nor the gaze of a killer. It was... existence itself looking back at her.
Lyssaria tried to stand straight, blood dripping down her temple. "Are you... a new god? Or the last demon?"
Ketzerah tilted his head slightly. "I'm not part of this world," his voice emerged like an echo from the depths. Calm. Unrushed. "But this world is now part of me."
The sky rumbled. But it didn't rain. A whisper spread through the dead air. "He has come." "The creature... that cannot be erased." "Ketzerah."
The name wasn't taught. Never written. Yet the burned city began to remember it, as if the earth itself whispered it.
Lyssaria fell to her knees. Not out of fear. But because her body couldn't resist. "Why... have you come here?" she asked softly, no longer raising her sword. "To finish off what's left?"
Ketzerah approached. He extended his hand—not touching, just pointing at the dark sky. "Because this world has lost its direction. It refuses to turn. It waits... for something to remain existent."
Lyssaria clenched her teeth. "And you think you're the answer?"
Ketzerah replied without a hint of arrogance. "I was never the answer." "I am just... what remains after all questions failed to be answered."
In another place—thousands of miles away. An ancient temple long abandoned by dreams trembled slowly. Pillars made of dragon bones cracked one by one. Inside, a woman with silver hair opened her eyes. Aerivelle Ny'mira, queen of the Cloud Court. She touched her neck. "Ah... this dream is different..."
Around her, all illusions collapsed without reason. She murmured: "The creature... that even dreams can't reach... has appeared."
Back in the ruins. Lyssaria's footsteps trembled as she tried to stand again. "I don't understand... you don't speak like an enemy, not like a god... yet you're not human."
Ketzerah bowed slowly. No smile. No emotion. Just pure existence. "Because I'm not to be understood."
And as he turned to leave, Lyssaria called out: "Wait!"
The voice wasn't a command. Not a request. More like... a cry from someone who didn't want to lose the only fixed point in a shattered world. "Will you just leave like this?" "After all this... after the world has fallen... will you just pass by?"
Ketzerah stopped. Didn't answer. But the world stopped moving with him. The wind froze. Dust hovered without direction. Then, for the first time... he turned slightly. And said, "I will remain."