The Ice Continent welcomed Guy Crimson the same way it always had—
with silence, cold, and obedience.
The castle gates sealed behind him. Snow drifted lazily through the air, untouched by wind. The frozen land bowed to its master.
Rain and Misery followed him inside.
They did not ask what happened in Eterna.
They didn't need to.
They had been there.
They had seen Atem defeat Guy before—twice—and both times Guy had laughed it off, treating it as a clash between monsters, a contest of power. Painful, yes. Humbling, maybe. But still a game.
This time was different.
Very different.
Guy stopped walking.
His shoulders were stiff. His breath was steady—but his magicules were not.
They fluctuated violently, surging and collapsing like waves smashing against an invisible wall.
Rain noticed immediately.
So did Misery.
Not mana.
Magicules.
The very foundation of his existence was still trembling.
He's forcing control, Rain realized.
He's suppressing it.
Guy placed a hand against the cold stone wall, fingers pressing just hard enough to leave cracks in the ancient ice.
"…Damn it."
Not anger.
Not frustration.
Fear—barely contained.
Misery's eyes narrowed slightly.
That pressure…
That wasn't killing intent.
That was authority.
She remembered it clearly.
Atem standing there, calm, furious, absolute.
The way space itself had obeyed him.
The way Eternal Dominion had wrapped around them like invisible chains, ignoring strength, rank, and origin.
A True Dragon.
A Demon Lord.
Two Primordials.
All immobilized.
All helpless.
All aware—at the deepest level—that resistance was meaningless.
Rain clenched her fists.
He wasn't threatening, she thought.
He was deciding.
Guy straightened at last, forcing his magicules into perfect alignment.
The tremor stopped.
The mask returned.
"…Enough," he muttered. "This can't wait."
He turned sharply, eyes cold and focused.
"Rudra."
The name carried weight.
Guy closed his eyes and initiated thought communication, a direct, private line—no intermediaries, no barriers.
The Western Empire was in motion.
Couriers rushed through marble corridors. Officers argued over maps that no longer matched reality. Entire divisions had gone silent. No reports. No survivors. No confirmation.
At the center of it all sat Emperor Rudra.
Relaxed.
Confident.
One leg crossed over the other, golden eyes half-lidded as if this were nothing more than another predictable phase of conquest.
Beside him stood Velgrynd, in her human form—tall, elegant, crimson hair flowing freely down her back. No tail. No wings. Just overwhelming presence wrapped in calm composure.
"…Still nothing," Velgrynd said coolly. "The Eterna front is completely dark."
Rudra smiled faintly.
"Silence often means the board is being reset."
Velgrynd frowned slightly. "Or wiped."
Before Rudra could answer—
A sharp pressure struck his mind.
Direct. Familiar. Unmistakable.
Guy.
Rudra's smile vanished.
That's fast, he thought.
And that tone…
Guy's voice echoed in his thoughts, stripped of humor.
"Rudra. This is urgent. We need to meet. Now."
Velgrynd turned her head sharply.
"…Guy?"
Rudra stood slowly.
"…He doesn't use that tone unless it matters," he said.
Velgrynd folded her arms. "You're in the middle of a war."
Rudra exhaled once.
"I'll be back."
He paused, glancing at her.
"Wait here."
Without another word, space folded.
Ice Continent — Guy's Castle
The air distorted.
A golden ripple tore through the hall, and Rudra appeared, cloak settling around him as if he had merely taken a step forward.
He looked exactly as he always did.
Relaxed. Confident. In control.
"Well," Rudra said lightly, glancing around the frozen hall, "this better be good. I'm in the middle of a war, you know."
Guy did not laugh.
That alone made Rudra pause.
Guy turned slowly, crimson eyes locked onto him.
"…We need to end the game."
Rudra blinked once.
"…What?"
"The war," Guy continued flatly. "You need to stop it. Now."
Silence fell.
Rudra's expression hardened.
"…Have you finally grown sentimental?" he asked coolly. "Or are you losing your edge, Guy?"
Guy stepped closer.
No smile.
No mockery.
"Listen to me, Rudra. You've known me for over two thousand years. You know when I'm joking—and when I'm not."
Rudra frowned.
Guy continued, voice low, controlled.
"Atem is not someone you want to mess with."
Rudra scoffed softly.
"…That name again."
Guy's eyes burned.
"You don't know," he said. "But Atem has already defeated me three times."
Rudra's breath caught.
"…What?"
"With ease," Guy added. "He didn't even use his full power."
That shook him.
Rudra took a slow step back, mind racing.
Guy Crimson… defeated?
Repeatedly?
"And this time," Guy continued, "he was angry."
Rudra felt a chill.
Guy clenched his fist.
"He activated something, a power i have never seen. It wasn't an attack. It was a declaration."
Rudra swallowed.
"Velzard was there," Guy said. "She couldn't move. Rain and Misery couldn't move. I couldn't move."
Rudra's voice was quiet now.
"…What did he do to you?"
Guy's jaw tightened.
"He took my soul," he said. "Not physically. Conceptually. He crushed it. Slowly. Deliberately. Letting me understand that resistance was meaningless."
Rudra stared.
"…Impossible."
Guy shook his head.
"No. Real."
He stepped even closer.
"Rudra, you have three days."
"…Three days for what?"
"To stop this war," Guy said coldly. "If you don't—Atem will erase us."
Rudra laughed sharply.
"Erase us?"
"Not kill," Guy corrected. "Erase. No resurrection. No rebirth. No reset. Nothing left to bring back."
Silence.
Rudra's heart pounded—but his pride rose faster.
"…So that's it?" he said slowly. "You come to me shaking, telling me to abandon everything because you're scared?"
Guy's eyes narrowed.
"I'm telling you because I value my life."
Rudra straightened, arrogance returning like armor.
"…Or maybe," he said coolly, "you're growing weak."
Guy did not argue.
He only said one last thing.
"If you value your life," Guy said, voice deadly serious, "end this war."
Rudra turned away.
"…I don't bow to threats," he replied. "Not even yours."
Space folded again.
The Emperor vanished.
Aftermath
Guy remained standing, staring at the empty space.
Rain and Misery said nothing.
They didn't need to.
Far away, in the Western Empire, the war machine continued to turn.
Back in Eterna, Velzard waited.
She stood with perfect posture, outwardly calm, yet clearly thinking. Diablo remained nearby, silent as ever.
"Where is Veldora?" Velzard asked.
"He is in the Labyrinth," Diablo replied. "However, I cannot escort you to him without my lord's approval."
Velzard nodded once. She did not argue.
Moments later—
"Diablo."
The space shifted.
Diablo appeared instantly, kneeling.
"My lord."
"Bring Velzard. I will see her."
"At once."
Velzard entered with Diablo and stopped several steps inside. Atem was already seated, his presence alone filling the room.
"Have a seat," Atem said.
Velzard did so smoothly, her movements elegant and unforced.
Shuna entered quietly, set down tea and light refreshments, and left. The door closed.
A brief silence followed.
Atem spoke first.
"State your purpose."
Velzard took a sip of tea, then met his gaze.
"First, I wish to thank you," she said. "For taking care of my brother. Veldora is alive, stable, and no longer running wild. That is not something I expected from anyone."
Atem studied her without expression.
She continued.
"I did not remain in Eterna out of curiosity alone."
A pause.
"I wish to stay."
The words were clear. Direct.
The room remained still.
Atem's eyes rested on her, assessing—not her strength, but her intent.
Inside his mind, Solarys, Sovereign of Wisdom, spoke calmly:
«Analysis complete. No hostility detected. No deception observed.»
Atem nodded slightly.
"You may remain," he said.
Velzard's eyes widened a fraction—just enough to show surprise.
"But," Atem continued, voice firm, "Eterna has rules."
She inclined her head. "I expected that."
"In Eterna," Atem said evenly, "if you do not work, you do not eat."
Velzard blinked.
Then—slowly—she smiled.
"…That is acceptable."
Atem's gaze sharpened slightly.
"You are a True Dragon. I will not assign you menial tasks."
"Understood."
"But you will contribute," Atem said. "In a way that benefits Eterna."
Velzard set her cup down carefully.
"Then allow me to ask," she said. "What would you have me do?"
Atem leaned back slightly.
"That," he replied, "we will decide soon."
The air settled.
Velzard had been granted permission.
But more importantly—
She had accepted Atem's law.
A day passed.
In Eterna, the war rooms were quiet for once.
Atem sat by the window of his private chamber, a cup of tea resting in his hand. Steam curled upward, untouched. His gaze was distant—not unfocused, but calculating. Thoughts moved behind his eyes like pieces on a board, each one already weighed, already measured.
Behind him, Diablo stood in silence, hands folded, posture flawless.
Then—
Diablo's eyes narrowed.
"Tch," he clicked his tongue softly. "That man again…"
At the same moment, a presence brushed the edge of the room—sharp, familiar, unmistakable.
The door opened quickly. A soldier entered, knelt, and bowed deeply.
"My lord. Demon Lord Guy Crimson is requesting an audience."
Atem did not look surprised.
He set the teacup down with a soft, final sound.
"Bring him in."
"At once."
The soldier withdrew.
Seconds later, the air shifted. Guy Crimson entered the chamber. His usual arrogance was muted—not gone, but restrained. He stopped several steps in, eyes fixed on Atem.
Atem gestured calmly.
"Sit."
Guy did.
There was no banter this time. No mocking smile. No jokes.
Guy spoke immediately.
"I spoke with Rudra."
Atem did not interrupt.
"I told him I was ending the game," Guy continued. "I told him I was done. That if he valued his life, he would stop the war."
A pause.
Guy's jaw tightened.
"He refused."
The temperature in the room dropped—not from cold, but pressure.
Atem's aura stirred. Not violently. Not explosively. Just enough.
Enough to make the walls feel smaller.
Enough to make Guy's breath catch for a fraction of a second.
Then—Atem retracted it.
The room stabilized.
"So," Atem said evenly, "he has chosen."
Guy exhaled slowly.
"He's arrogant," Guy said. "Confident. He thinks this is just another bluff. He believes no one can truly erase him."
Atem's eyes hardened—not with rage, but with certainty.
"There are only two kinds of rulers," Atem said. "Those who learn. And those who fall."
Guy did not argue.
For once, he had nothing to say.
Atem rose from his seat.
"This meeting was not to ask for permission," Atem continued. "It was to confirm intent."
He turned slightly.
"Diablo."
Diablo straightened instantly.
"Yes, my lord."
"Call all commanders," Atem ordered. "Every division. Every authority holder. No exceptions."
Diablo smiled—wide, sharp, reverent.
"At once."
He vanished.
Atem turned back to Guy.
"The war will end," Atem said. "One way or another."
Guy met his gaze. For the first time, there was no challenge in his eyes.
Only understanding.
"…Then this world is about to change," Guy said quietly.
Atem did not deny it.
"The meeting begins," Atem said. "And after that—"
He looked toward the horizon.
"Rudra will learn what happens when a king mistakes patience for weakness."
The board was set.
And the next move would shake the world.