08 / 07 / 2018, 17:28 - Tuesday, Nakagawa City.
The center of the city burned. Flames licked the skyline, cars smoldered in the streets, and the air hung heavy with smoke and despair. Broken street lamps sparked faintly, the pavement was stained with dried blood, and bodies lay scattered across the roads.
Akane walked in silence, one hand buried in his pocket, the other clutching the strap of his bag. Each step echoed faintly against the narrow road that led uphill, where the silhouettes of houses blurred into the distance.
The exception was the steady gunfire that was echoing in some parts of the city; survivors still stood, fighting whatever threatened the remnants of civilization. Though afraid, with lives on the line, they can only brave forward, hoping their courage would keep those they loved safe.
The dull chatters of his and his siblings, steps echo in front of him.
"You sure this shortcut isn't cursed?" Irina muttered, playing with a pebble.
"That's the third time you've asked," Akane replied without turning.
"And you still haven't denied it," she said.
"I'm too tired to curse anyone," he sighed. "Ten more minutes. We're halfway there."
"You said that ten minutes ago," Ayato cut in, his tone dry but faintly amused.
Akane grunted, too weary to argue. The day had been long. Even a lifetime of ordinary experiences could not compare to the journey they had endured, watching familiar skies twist and flood with monsters, being chased and then reunited, navigating a city devastated by invasion. People would have called them insane for wanting to go home now.
The road curved past a small park, its swing set creaking in the wind. The sound tugged at something nostalgic in him, something that made the silence even heavier. Irina hummed faintly, perhaps to break the silence or perhaps to fill this void.
---
They turned a corner, and there it was again, the same street, the same slope, the same flickering lamp and broken street light.
Akane slowed, blinking once, twice. "Wait… did we go in circles?"
Ayato frowned. "No, we didn't even turn around."
"That's the same park." Irina pointed ahead.
The swing swayed in the wind, creaking exactly as before.
After a moment, they continued walking, half-denying, half-testing the scene. But minutes stretched on. The streets refused to change, same houses, same broken lamps, same littered corpses, the same silent park.
At first, Akane told himself it was exhaustion, his eyes playing tricks. But when he looked at Ayato and Irina, both equally unsettled, he realized it was something far stranger.
He focused, scanning for subtle differences. There, they were small, almost imperceptible. The dried blood had vanished. Sparks that had leaped from broken circuitry now lay dormant. Some of the fires had smoldered out. His heartbeat quickened as he observed, analyzing, comparing.
"Aka-nii?" Irina tugged at his sleeve.
"Stay close, you two," he muttered.
Something was happening here. The street repeated itself, yet faint traces of their previous steps still lingered. The space is the same, but they can see their past traces, meaning it could be that space is expanding and mirrored. Information and scenes collide in Akane's mind, generating a conclusion.
But why is this section changing? Does the time of change also copy to one after another? What the hell is happening?, thought inwardly.
"Akane!" Ayato shouted, yanking him from thought.
He froze, breath caught in his throat, eyes wide. The world stretched and contracted around him, like a living heartbeat. Above, the sky had fractured, kneaded, and divided as though reflected in a broken mirror.
---
08 / 07 / 2018, 16:57 - Tuesday, Embryonic Domain, Valshaviere.
Atop the swaying grass, he remained unmoving, indifferent to the chaos unfolding below. His starry-like eyes traced the movements of the star system above, observing with a focus that allowed nothing to escape his gaze.
Then he tilted his head, sensing a disturbance in space. Unlike before, this intrusion felt familiar, natural, and obviously under the same origin.
Gaps began to tear open in the skyrifts, revealing fragments of other worlds. One reflected the burning streets below, echoing the laughter of devils and the flight of twisted creatures. Another opened onto a vast forest, its towering trees stretching beyond the clouds, immeasurable in their majesty. Yet another shimmered like a dream, thunder rolling across its skies.
From these rifts, beings slipped through. Some scattered across the Earth, charging immediately into battle against the monsters emerging from the cracks. Others lingered, indifferent to the mission they had been given, drawn instead by curiosity, or by the human world itself. A few destroyed buildings, hunted civilians, eating children, or even grab some to be a plaything.
The Earth truly seemed forsaken, a battlefield where nowhere could be safe.
Aldean's indifference turned into amusement as he quietly chuckled, as his prediction came true, that the other side would surely intervene.
Of course, who would want to lose a potential ground for a shepherd? Maybe some thought that first comes, first served, but they have no brains, don't they?, he scoffed at them inwardly.
But then again, he slowly frowns. Why is the one who comes nothing but a fodder? These are just enough to defeat some; these beings are probably just jumping around to test the waters, then, huh?, apparently, now he realizes their intention.
And then, where again is that being called "Beasts", the children of that being? Do they even come here? What are they, A decoration?
He frowns more and more, a hint of displeasure etched on his face.
What the hell is that being thinking? If everyone is testing the waters, then this kind of thing won't ever end, isn't it? do you want the Earth to disappear instead?
His expression eased back into calm indifference. "Perhaps you expected some help," he mused silently, "but I will join your game… in my own way."
He extended his hands, preparing to impose his Authority. It manifested in forms he could comprehend: Layer, Field, and Canvas, different names, identical in essence. Another power, Filament, worked in tandem, granting him almost unlimited capability. In his countless wanderings through the cosmos, he had refined his control into four guiding principles: Seal, Replicate, Exile, and Calibration.
Seal dictated suppression and cessation; Replicate, creation; Exile, destruction; Calibration, refinement, and precise adjustment. Together, they formed the foundation of his manipulation of space and time.
Now, as he reached forward, he required no external energy. His Authority relied solely on its intrinsic quality, bending reality without cost…
"Authority of Layer: New Layer Creation, Superimposition," he declared solemnly, hands suspended above the ground, the air trembling with the weight of his will.
---
On Earth, a new layer of space quietly unfolded, a perfect replica, suspended just above the original, unnoticed by any eyes below.
"Authority of Layer: Exile, Distance Erasure", "Authority of Layer: Seal, Spatial Prison", "Authority of Layer: Replicate, World Expansion", Aldean voiced in a single, calm breath, lowering his hands to rest atop his knees.
"This should be enough, right?", he muttered, as if speaking to the darkness itself.
Somewhere, a monster gnawing on corpses lifted its head, appearing out of nowhere on a deserted dune. Before it, a fox with a tube clutched in its mouth froze in confusion. The moment passed, and they clashed without hesitation.
Around the dune, chaos unfolded. Creatures tried to flee, leaping and flying in all directions, only to rebound against invisible barriers. Some attempted to attack the walls, but their claws and fangs left nothing but a mirror-like shimmer. Others tried to vanish through teleportation, but nothing happened.
Across dunes, ruined cities, underwater chasms, and subterranean tunnels, beings found themselves trapped within their own encapsulated spaces, forced to fight, fight, and fight.
---
Surface of the moon, breathless, no oxygen layer or ozone to cover the atmosphere, dreamy starry sky that should be seen is long gone, only a sight of endless silver light.
On the Moon, where the air was absent and the starry sky had been replaced by endless silver light, a white-magenta-haired figure lifted its head. Eyes closed, a faint smile curved their lips, though tension lingered in their expression.
Waved its hand, and on Earth, a slain puppet of the Garden of Perfection was reborn, flowing once more through the established spatial cracks.
Decide to do something different from before, also slowly releasing its own power…
"Law of Hollow: Blessing, Undying Body", "Law of Corrosion: Blessing, Dread of Decay", it whispered, straining as if each incantation demanded a tremendous cost.
---
Back on Earth, waves of monsters continued to surge without end. Some creatures noticed that their opponents were being resurrected by some unseen power. Discouragement flickered across them; even the most battle-hungry paused, considering survival over blind fighting.
Aldean watched, serene, from his quiet vantage. He smiled as the tide shifted. "Perhaps it's time to increase the stakes," he mused.
"Authority of Filament: Replicate, Rejuvenation", "Authority of Filament: Replicate, Two-Fold Multiplication", "Authority of Layer: Exile, Nothingness", as he said.
The battlefield trembled. Creatures on the verge of death felt energy surge through their bodies, wounds knitting before the naked eye. Even the fallen rose again, filled with a renewed vigor.
They understood, coupled with this space that entrapped them with these monsters, all of these beings know that they are maybe just a pawn in this game, but who dares to voice their own thoughts, don't they also afraid of death? What else could they do aside from continuing to fight then?
Fear kept them compliant, but instinct and obsession drove them forward. Bodies tireless, minds fraying, they fought with blind determination, killing or surviving, compelled by the unyielding force that watched them.
---
Gradually, the floods of monsters began to thin. Excitement swelled in their hearts as the once-incalculable tide dwindled.
The white-magenta-haired figure trembled, exhaustion, or perhaps something deeper, creeping across its flawless, divine face. Its eyes flicked toward the distant horizon, past the grey horizontal rift, where the Sun's surface burned like molten silver.
The figure remained silent, still as a statue guarding the rift, yet it could feel the green, unnatural power coursing through its body. A shiver ran down its spine, and slowly, that fearful expression twisted into a grin. Laughter followed, low at first, then rising into something almost unhinged, echoing across the empty void.
---
As the battle reached its final ebb, Aldean saw no reason to maintain his Authority further. Calmly, he withdrew it. The floating layer, once suspended above the Earth like an illusory membrane, began to drift downward. It folded and crumbled, dissolving into itself.
The broken mirror of space, the fractured layer, and the original, collided and fused, sliding seamlessly back into the form it had held before. The battlefield, the chaos, the echoes of struggle… all vanished, leaving the world as if nothing had changed.
Aldean's eyes lingered for a moment on the settling scene, serene and watchful, before he returned to his quiet observation.