Tsutsumi narrowed his gaze at Yaoshi, remaining silent as he studied the Aeon standing before him.
They were close, closer than an Aeon ever should be. Not a distant will pressing through reality, not a half-formed echo or indirect miracle. They had chosen to appear, and that alone said enough.
He didn't rush to answer.
The ability he had displayed moments ago lingered in the air like a contradiction that refused to fade.
Yaoshi was the Aeon of Abundance. Immortality, regeneration, endless vitality, those were her domain. They could overwrite injuries, suppress decay, extend life until it lost any recognizable boundary. Yet what Tsutsumi had done went beyond extension or healing.
He had removed something fundamental and rewritten what remained.
Direct molecular intervention. Genetic restructuring. A precise excision of a concept that even the Aeon couldn't achieve.
Although Tsutsumi walked the Path of Finality, the ability he had demonstrated brushed dangerously close to Abundance itself.
A raw function that branched out, creating more potential and possibilities.
As an Aeon, Yaoshi understood what Finality represented. When the end approached, Aeons dimmed, the paths lost their meaning. And everything, no matter how vast, would collapse into silence.
Which is why they wanted him to become their Emanator and abandon the Path of Finality.
What Aeon would tolerate someone carrying the certainty of their own erasure?
"Yeah," Tsutsumi finally said, his voice flat. "You'll have to talk to Terminus if you want me off this Path."
He wasn't provoking her, and he wasn't pushing back. He was stating something that, to him, was already settled.
His power had never come from Terminus.
Even if the Path of Finality were stripped away, even if the title of Emanator were revoked, the outcome would remain the same. As long as Tsutsumi existed, the destruction of worlds would continue.
Finality wasn't something he relied on or actively used. It wasn't a function he turned on or off. It was something that existed alongside him rather than beneath him.
Yaoshi did not withdraw.
If anything, their focus narrowed. The being before her did not behave like an Emanator, nor did he resemble a follower who depended on the authority of an Aeon.
Unlike other followers of Terminus, Tsutsumi acted more on his own than anything else.
"You don't seem attached to the blessing you were given," Yaoshi said. "You don't draw from it, and you don't seem to appreciate it. You could step away from that Path."
Their six arms shifted outward in an open, almost inviting gesture.
"Abandon Finality. Become my Emanator instead."
They didn't know that Tsutsumi had never chosen to walk the Path of Finality; it was his destiny.
It came from his very own existence as the Destroyer of Worlds. Terminus had merely noticed an existence aligned perfectly with the end of all things and acknowledged him as their Emanator, to help remind him of his destiny.
As the Aeon of Finality, Teminus belief in the end of time is the only certainty.
Creation can't be born without destruction.
And as the Destroyer of Worlds, he would be the one who caused the destruction of all worlds and would be the one to witness the creation of all worlds.
"The end is inevitable," Tsutsumi replied. "Everything that begins will eventually reach an end."
He spoke without reverence or resistance.
"Creation doesn't exist without destruction. That's how reality functions."
Yaoshi's presence deepened.
"All life is precious," they said. "Suffering and death are unnecessary. They can be removed. A world without fear or loss would be objectively better."
"Life is precious," Tsutsumi agreed. "But not because it lasts forever."
He didn't look away. "It has value because it ends. Take that away, and choices stop carrying weight. Life would become meaningless. People value their lives because they know that their time is limited, so they choose to live their lives to the fullest. So that when they reach the end of their life, they won't have any regret."
"But imagine, if life were eternal," Yaoshi said, "people and living beings could live freely without fear, there would be time for all joy, all meaning. No one would have to lose anything. No one would be afraid of losing anything. An eternal life with no fear of death and suffering."
"Then nothing would matter," Tsutsumi replied. "Living forever doesn't mean living fully. It just means continuing."
He paused briefly, then continued.
"Most people aren't built to carry eternity. Not everyone is special, and not everyone is created equal. The one thing they all share is that their lives have a beginning and an ending. That's what gives everything structure. It's not about the destination, it's the journey. Take away their ending, then that journey would just be pointless with no end."
"You would deny them salvation?" Yaoshi asked.
"I'd deny them being rewritten," Tsutsumi answered. "You can't change people without removing what makes them people. Limits aren't flaws. Our lives are part of who we are. That's what makes everything real."
For the first time, the warmth in Yaoshi's voice faded.
"It seems Terminus wasn't mistaken to pick you," they said quietly. "Decade."
Their presence withdrew, leaving the space unchanged, though the pressure they carried with them lingered long after their were gone.
Tsutsumi let out a quiet sigh when he felt a brief warmth pulse from his pocket. He reached in and pulled out three new cards, glancing at them only long enough to register what they were before putting his hand back down. When he turned around, he found all three women on the ship staring directly at him.
"What?" he asked. "Need something?"
Feixiao hesitated, then scratched the back of her head. "Uh… how do I put this…"
Jingliu opened her mouth, but stopped as she couldn't find the words she wanted to say.
"Did you really just have a philosophical debate with the Aeon of Abundance?" Acheron asked bluntly.
They hadn't seen Yaoshi. They hadn't heard their voice. All they'd felt was the unmistakable pressure of Abundance entering the space and then leaving, while only Tsutsumi spoke out loud. From their perspective, he'd been talking to empty air.
"Yes," Tsutsumi replied. "They wanted me to become their Emanator and go around handing out eternal life."
He didn't bother softening it.
All three of them froze.
For the two Xianzhou natives, the meaning landed immediately. Yaoshi wasn't just an Aeon. They were the source of their curse, the origin of their immortality, and the shadow of Mara that followed it. The Abundance wasn't a philosophy to them; it was an enemy written into their history.
Feixiao and Jingliu both opened their mouths, then closed them again, too many questions popping up inside their minds, but unable to pick one to ask.
"The Aeon of Abundance," Feixiao said slowly, "tried to recruit the Emanator of Finality."
"Seems that way," Jingliu murmurs.
"…Did you win?" Acheron asked.
"They left," he replied. "So I guess so."
He put the cards away and walked back to his seat, settling into it like nothing out of the ordinary had happened. Feixiao and Jingliu remained standing, clearly still trying to process the implications, while Acheron simply moved forward and sat down on his lap again, leaning into him and quietly enjoying the clarity of her senses.
The cockpit stayed quiet. Outside the glass, the cosmos drifted by, distant and indifferent.
"Uh, boss?" Feixiao suddenly said, nudging his shoulder. "Can you help me with something?"
Tsutsumi tilted his head slightly. "What now?"
She hesitated again, her index fingers tapping together. "I… also have a genetic condition caused by the Abundance."
He didn't need more than that. "Go on."
With him giving her the green light, Feixiao opened her mouth and began explaining to him about the Moon Rage that affected her. She explained to him that this disease, although it gives her massive increases in strength, speed, and hyper-healing. Visible by how all of her previous injuries have already fully healed while Jingliu was still recovering.
Then she began explaining to him how this disease also has the side effect of eroding the user's reason, turning them into a feral, bloodthirsty "avatar of war" who cannot distinguish between friend and foe. Their judgment would slip away, instincts overtaking reason, until the user became something closer to a weapon than a person.
Tsutsumi listened, then activated Build Genius without comment. The Gashacon Key Slasher manifested in his hand as he went to work, analyzing and adjusting with the same precision he'd used on Jingliu.
He located Moon Rage, traced its interactions, identified Mara Struck where it lingered alongside it, and altered both. He even added more conditions to prevent them from acting up and harming her mind later.
Since he was already doing it, he did it properly.
When it was over, Feixiao stood there for a moment, then let out a slow breath. She felt slightly weaker than before, but clearer.
Although clearing the side effect of eroding Feixiao's mind causes her Moon Rage to become weaker, as she would no longer suddenly shift into fights like an animal anymore.
Still, she really appreciates this change, since now she won't have to constantly burn away her life and mental energy to keep herself from becoming a mindless animal that only knows how to fight.
Then she dropped to one knee.
"Boss," she said immediately, "please marry me."
Tsutsumi: "..."
Acheron: "..."
Jingliu: "..."
Acheron felt something uncomfortable tighten in her chest as she clutched Tsutsumi's shirt and shifted closer without realizing it.
Jingliu understood the reasoning, even if she didn't approve of the execution. What Tsutsumi had done wasn't healing. It was rewriting. His ability didn't follow the rules of the world, didn't obey the constraints that even Aeons were bound by. He wasn't curing symptoms; he was removing what triggered them to grow.
Although the Aeon are powerful beings that represent the extreme ends of human philosophy. Their power and ability still at least follow the natural law of the world; they couldn't just break it because they want to.
The Aeons possess near-infinite power, but become prisoners of their own philosophy. It's a fundamental law of physics; they cannot act against the nature of their Path, only able to view the universe through a single, unyielding lens.
Their power is near-infinite, not omnipotent. They are being restrained by their own belief, unable to act against it.
While Tsutsumi was not bound by this restraint. And can act freely, doing whatever he wants.
That made him dangerous. And invaluable.
Still, Jingliu couldn't help but facepalm, finding Feixiao had skipped several steps.
Couldn't she have tried to build a more stable relationship with him first before dropping to her knees and proposing to him?
"Not interested," Tsutsumi said plainly, already looking back out at the stars.
Being rejected so directly, Feixiao didn't look discouraged, since there would be more opportunities for her later on, now that her time was no longer being limited by her disease.
She knew what she was doing. She also knew she'd rushed it.
Did it feel like selling herself? Yes.
Did she care? Not particularly.
Moon Rage and Mara Struck had haunted her people for generations. The man in front of her could erase both as easily as correcting an error. Although he is an Emanator of Finality, Decade, the so-called Destroyer of Worlds, those titles don't matter anymore.
Besides, she was technically his servant now after she offered herself in exchange to spare her people. So offering more of herself to him won't make much of a difference.
To her, this is just a small price to pay.
"Azu, warp jump to Penacony," Tsutsumi said, voice even.
The ship responded immediately. The low hum running through the hull shifted in pitch as the engines spooled up, light crawling across the panels and seams of the cockpit. Space outside the window folded in on itself for a brief moment, then snapped back into place.
They were no longer where they had been.
The ship reappeared just outside a colossal artificial megastructure, something closer to a city than a station. Layers of architecture stacked outward and inward at the same time, interlocking frameworks and illuminated corridors forming a vast, self-contained world suspended in the void. The scale of it was hard to judge at a glance, but it was big enough that the ship felt insignificant by comparison.
Two Alderson disks orbited the structure at a steady pace. Each disk held visible landmasses, patches of green and brown broken up by seas and rivers that reflected distant light. Atmospheres were clearly present, thin clouds drifting over continents that had no business existing in open space.
Feixiao leaned forward slightly. "So this is Penacony."
"Looks expensive," Acheron said, eyes tracing the lights along the station's outer shell.
Jingliu stayed silent, watching the disks rotate with measured calm.
Tsutsumi raised his camera, adjusted the angle once, and snapped a photo through the glass.