The word hung in the air, more shocking than any monster's roar:
"Friend."
My processors, which had been coolly analyzing Valen's injuries (three cracked ribs, minor internal bleeding, survivable) and the structural integrity of the destabilizing floor, stuttered. The goblin—Greeb—looked at me, his gaze a raw, un-coded input I couldn't quantify. It wasn't a request for a reward or a plea for mercy. It was a query about a concept.
Before I could formulate a response, Rika, having stabilized Valen, turned her attention to the goblin.
"It saved you, Valen. A monster saved you."
Her voice was a mixture of awe and confusion.
"The System Rule is absolute,"
Valen rasped, clutching his side.
"No one can be 'both'. Human or monster. Any hybrid is killed on sight. Harboring it is treason."
Greeb flinched, his big eyes darting between the S-Rank assassin and me.
As I looked at the terrified goblin, a jolt, sharp and electric, shot through my mind. It wasn't a glitch this time.
It was a memory.
…A throne room, not of stone, but of living, star-laced nebula. Beings of pure energy and crystalline form stood before me. I was taller then, clad in armor that hummed with cosmic power. I was a king, proposing an alliance, a peace accord to end the celestial wars. The Monster Gods were there—Nullith, a void in space; Voraeon, a being of gnawing hunger. They listened, nodding their massive heads. They agreed. They praised my vision…
The memory shattered, leaving a bitter aftertaste of betrayal. I knew, with a certainty that chilled me to my core, what came next. They turned on me. All of them.
"Zero? Hey! Zero!" Rika was snapping her fingers in my face. "You spaced out."
My focus returned. The infirmary, Dr. Kuroh's frantic assessments, the fight—it all felt like a dream. The memory fragment felt more real.
"He comes with us," I said, the decision bypassing my usual risk-assessment protocols. It was an illogical, sentimental choice. It was a mistake. But I made it anyway.
Rika stared at me, then a slow grin spread across her face. "Finally, the ice man shows a spark. Good."
Valen simply watched me, his gaze sharp and analytical, as if my illogical choice was more fascinating than any display of power.
Getting back was a nightmare. We had to hide Greeb, a creature of the Tower, from the Tower itself. Every patrol drone, every system scan felt like a death sentence. To manage the sheer volume of data—navigating the shifting floor, monitoring Valen's vitals, plotting a path that avoided detection, and processing the disorienting echoes of my past—my brain did something new.
It split.
I felt a clean, sharp division in my consciousness. One part of my mind remained dedicated to the immediate physical world, guiding Rika step-by-step. The other part plunged into the abstract, running simulations, analyzing my fragmented memories, and trying to build a coherent picture of who I was. It was seamless, efficient, and utterly terrifying. I had unlocked a new skill, a non-human ability I instinctively labeled Neural Split Protocol.
We were almost at the exit gate when a squad of Hunters from another guild cornered us.
"Halt," their leader, a grim-faced A-Ranker, commanded. "We detected an S-Rank's distress signal. And an unregistered life form." His eyes locked onto Greeb, who was trembling behind me.
"Hand over the monster."
Rika stepped forward, her hands glowing.
"He's with us. Stand down."
"A B-Rank giving orders to me?"
The man laughed.
"You're all in violation of Tower law."
He lunged, not at Rika, but at the still-injured Valen. It was a strategic, cruel move. Rika, screaming his name, moved to intercept, a desperate inferno erupting from her.
But it wasn't just fire. For a split second, her form shimmered with a silver, ethereal light. The air crackled with an energy that was far beyond a B-Ranker. Her speed doubled, her power output spiking to a level that momentarily registered on my internal sensors as S-Rank.
The A-Rank Hunter was thrown back, his armor singed, his face a mask of shock.
"What... what was that? That's not a B-Rank skill!"
A hidden rank. It had awakened within her. Rika looked at her own hands, just as surprised as anyone.
Using my Neural Split, one part of my mind analyzed her energy spike while the other seized the opportunity. "He's right," I said to the stunned hunters.
"She's not a B-Rank." I gestured to the cowering Greeb.
"This is her familiar. A new class of tamed monster.
Registered under my SS-Rank authority. You can take it up with Director Morn."
The lie was audacious, built on layers of their own assumptions. The hunters, faced with a woman who had just displayed S-Rank power and a man the whole world believed was an SS-Rank god, had no choice. They lowered their weapons, their faces a mixture of fear and confusion.
As they retreated, my mind replayed the echo of betrayal. My alien self, standing before the council of gods. They smiled, they agreed, and then they struck. And I remembered the name of the one who struck first, the one who led the charge, a name that now echoed in the Tower's deepest, darkest floors.
Krythiel. The God of Belief. The one who grows stronger with worship. The one I now knew was waiting for me.