The ashes drifted down like dust.
Gone.
Just like that.
No more answers.
No more explanations.
Figures.
I stared at my hand. Still tingling.
Still warm where the crystal had pulsed.
What the hell was that book?
No…
Who left it?
Now that I looked up at the statue again.
She felt familiar.
The way she stood. The clock in her hands.
Was it…?
No, wait.
The voice.
Back in the mist—when everything was warped and burning—
Someone told me to wake up.
Was it her?
Was that even real?
My fingers twitched. The memory of the Eye still burned in my skull.
That giant red thing in the sky…
It didn't just look at me.
It saw me.
Everything cracked after that.
The book mentioned Outer Gods.
Things that bend the world just by existing.
...Was that what it was?
And if that red place was one of their worlds—
Then what the hell is this place?
Another one?
But different.
No screaming skies.
No broken time.
Just a quiet garden, a statue, and a slot machine that gave me a coin and vanished like a bad dream.
Then about the floating letters.
Captain Ark.
That's what it called me.
It led me out. Guided me and maybe opened a person for me?The world where I met Lana. Celyne.
…Why?
What the hell am I to them?
Was that… another Outer God?
A different kind?
Or am I just reading too far into it?
My head hurt.
I glanced around the floating castle.
It was quiet.
Too quiet.
But I couldn't shake the feeling that someone was watching.
Not hostile. Not kind.
Just… waiting.
---
I sat still for a while.
Let the silence settle.
Let my breath even out.
The questions had stopped clawing for space in my head.
Not because I had answers—just because I was too tired to chase them.
For the first time since waking up in this place, I felt… still.
Not safe.
Not sure.
But still.
I leaned back against the wall of the castle. Cold stone. Cracked. Real.
My eyes drifted shut for a second.
Maybe I could just—
Thrum.
My eyes snapped open.
No sound. No light.
But it was there.
That pressure.
Low, steady, coiling under my skin like heat with no source.
A pull.
My chest tightened before I could stop it.
No—
I'd felt this before.
That exact sensation.
Subtle. Warm. Too alive.
The energy.
The same way it had pulled me before.
Right before I found the cult.
Right before everything fell apart.
A chill crawled up my spine. Not the cold kind. The memory kind.
I swallowed. My hand curled into a fist.
Not again.
It was almost funny.
How fast the silence broke.
How fast the stillness peeled away.
I stood there, heart slow, breath steady—
But everything inside me was screaming.
Déjà vu.
But worse.
---
I wasn't going to risk my life again.
Not for strangers.
Not for a kingdom that almost executed me a day after I showed up.
Not for a world that isn't even mine.
Last time I followed that pull—
I ended up bleeding in the street.
Torn apart by something with fists the size of my chest.
Barely alive.
So yeah… maybe this time, I'll just stay put.
Call it selfish.
I call it survival.
But the feeling was back.
That quiet hum in my chest —
The warmth from the crystal I absorbed.
It was moving again.
Like a compass pointing to something unseen.
Just like before.
Back when it led me to that cult —
To a ritual.
To the portal that threw me across into this mess.
And now it was pulling again.
Another portal?
Another world ending event?
My jaw clenched.
What if it was another trap?
What if I walked into something worse?
But… what if it wasn't?
What if this time —
it was a way back?
The thought wasn't hope.
Not exactly.
It was just the kind of idea desperate people cling to when they've run out of options.
I shook my head.
But then….... I remembered.
The words.
"If this court truly believes he's a threat, then I will stake my position as Royal Guard on it. If he betrays this kingdom, take my life as well."
Celyne.
She barely met me for half a day. But she still stepped forward.
Put her life on the line.
"I'll stake mine as well."
Lana.
The one who brought me here in the first place.
Her voice was calm, but I saw it. The weight behind her words.
"They said he fought alone. Protected them. Not for coin, not for glory — but because no one else could."
The Duke of -whatever the name.
He vouched for me in front of everyone — even the king.
He didn't owe me a damn thing.
And those knights..
"I vouch for him."
"He saved us."
"He didn't run."
They remembered me.
Even after all that, they still stood up.
For me.
I stared down at my hands.
Cracked knuckles. Half-healed cuts. Faint bloodstains that hadn't washed out yet.
I didn't choose any of this.
But they still believed in me.
Even when I didn't.
So if this pull — this feeling — really was the same…
If it led me to something again…
Maybe it wasn't just danger waiting on the other end.
Maybe it was a door.
And maybe, just maybe—
…I had a reason to fight.
And I could probably handle the cult guys now anyway.
Unless they had guns.
Or RPGs.
Or a tank.
I scoffed under my breath.
"If they've got a tank, I'm turning around."
But otherwise?
Yeah. I could take them I think.
---
The pull inside me stirred again.
I sighted and finally left the garden behind.
Ahead, the castle's actual dark entrance waited.
The heavy door slid open without a sound.
Inside, shadows clung to cold stone walls.
Stairs twisted upward, endless and silent.
I didn't hesitate.
Each step answered the pull.
No pain. Just the quiet weight of what must come next.
The halls stretched on—narrow, winding corridors with peeling tapestries and flickering sconces.
Every corner felt like it was watching.
I moved forward, senses sharp.
No footsteps echoed behind me. No voices whispered.
Just the steady tug inside.
Rooms appeared—empty chambers, broken furniture, cracked mirrors reflecting nothing.
I kept walking.
No fear. Just purpose.
The energy inside me hummed, pulling stronger with every step.
I didn't know where this would end.
But I knew I had to follow.
---
After what felt like forever, I found it.
A door unlike the others—dark wood, rough and old, but the handle caught my eye.
A hand, sketched in faded lines, wrapped around it.
I hesitated. The energy inside pulsed sharply.
Slowly, I lifted my hand and pressed it against the handle.
Green light spilled out—warm, alive.
The door creaked open.
Beyond it… something waited. I can tell.
---
I stepped through the doorway—
—and everything vanished.
Darkness swallowed the space whole. No floor, no walls, no sound. Just that thick, breathless kind of silence, like the entire world was holding still.
Then, with a soft thrum, something shifted beneath my feet.
A dim light bloomed ahead, slow and deliberate, crawling across the ground like dawn spilling through cracks.
The table appeared first.
Wide. Smooth. Stretching longer than it should have. Like it had no real end.
Above it, dozens of faintly glowing spheres began to rise—tiny, flickering orbs, each one pulsing with its own color, its own rhythm. They floated upward, silent, like stars caught in a current.
I stared.
Then something moved behind them.
Light crawled farther into the chamber—and revealed....
The throne.
Massive. Elevated above the table on a broad black platform. Not gold, not jeweled, not made to impress. It was carved from some dark, heavy stone, shaped with strange precision—too perfect in some places, too rough in others. Ancient, but intact.
Except the upper right corner.
A jagged crack cut through it, like a missing piece had been torn away.
I didn't know why, but the sight of that one missing piece made my chest tighten.
As if something important had once sat there.
Behind the throne, embedded deep into the far wall, stood a colossal clock.
Its hands were still.
But somehow, just looking at it made my stomach drop—like the ticking had already begun, somewhere I couldn't hear.
---
The moment my eyes landed on the throne, I felt it.
The pull.
It surged—stronger than before. Not painful, but heavy, like gravity itself had chosen a direction and was quietly insisting I follow. And it was pointing straight at that seat of stone.
I stayed still.
No voice. No whispers. Just that pressure… persistent and patient.
I took a slow breath, then stepped forward.
One foot, then another.
The closer I got, the thicker the air felt. Not in a magical way—more like walking toward a storm you couldn't hear yet. My gaze scanned the steps leading up to the platform, then the edges of the floor around it.
It didn't look dangerous. Just old. Carved stone, worn at the edges, a missing chunk near the top right like someone had taken a bite out of it and moved on. Dust coated the base, untouched for who knows how long.
Still.
I wasn't stupid.
I leaned in slightly, eyes scanning the floor, the sides, the wall behind it. No wires. No hidden holes. No bloodstains or ominous carvings. Just silence.
Still holding my breath, I raised a hand and tapped the armrest with one finger.
Nothing happened.
I exhaled, slow.
Then blinked at the throne.
"Are you just a normal throne?" I muttered under my breath, before realizing I'd actually said it out loud.
My voice echoed, faintly, in the vast, empty hall.
I stared at it a moment longer.
Then, slowly, I glanced left.
Then right.
No footsteps. No shadows. Just the quiet hum of whatever energy still lingered in this place.
Still… I turned around, checking the room like a guilty kid sneaking snacks before dinner.
Ridiculous. There was no one here. I knew that.
And yet—
I scratched the back of my neck, eyes flicking to the throne again.
It wasn't just the pull anymore.
A part of me… kind of wanted to sit.
Just once.
I MEAN... who doesn't want to sit on a throne like a king just for a moment when no one is looking?
I cleared my throat, quietly.
"…Not because I want to," I muttered. "It's probably needed someone to sit on it."
Then I stepped forward.
Then I sat like I owned the place.
Back straight. Both arms resting on the throne's sides. Left leg draped over the right.
It wasn't planned—I just sank into it naturally. Like the stone molded to me. Like the whole room shifted its breath the moment I settled in.
For a second, I forgot everything else.
The ruins. The silence. The questions.
This was my seat.
The grin came on its own, lazy and wide.
What was I doing?
No idea.
But I felt good.
Powerful, even.
Like I belonged here.
And then—
click.
No time to turn.
No chance to react.
I felt it before I heard it—something locking in, deep beneath the throne.
Then the sound came again.
tick.
The massive clock behind me—silent since I arrived—was moving.
Slow. Relentless.
Like it had been waiting for me to sit down.
And now... something had begun.