The stars did not merely watch; they trembled.
The space was filled with the greenish-yellow pus of the Monarch of Decay and the shifting, impossible geometries of the High-Dimensional Overseer.
"For Seung-Ah," Kim Suho whispered, his voice carried through the mana-rich atmosphere of the battlefield. Misteltein, the sword of the forest and the end, glowed with a blinding, holy light that defied the entropy around it.
"For the boy," Yoo Joonghyuk growled, his black coat fluttering in a wind that shouldn't exist. He gripped the Dark Heavenly Demon Sword, his status as a Transcender and his newly refined Beyonder powers of the Black Emperor pathway magnifying his presence until he looked like a god of war.
[System Alert!]
[Please grab a mop to activate 'King of Janitors' Attribute!]
"Shut up," Yoo Joonghyuk's veins bulged every time he remembered the embarassment he had gone through inside Demon Realm's Gate.
They moved simultaneously.
Kim Suho's blade was a streak of absolute "Result." He didn't just swing; he cut the possibility of the Monarch of Decay's existence in the next second. Beside him, Yoo Joonghyuk unleashed a Universal Slash, magnified by Sequence 6 powers. The slash didn't just travel through space; it distorted the "Truth" of the dimensions it crossed.
Watching from the bridge of the Genkelope, Klein-Amon adjusted his monocle. The illusory mask with blank features flickered, reflecting the two clashing souls within.
'Hajin and Dokja were right,' Klein lampooned internally, his Worms of Spirit and Time buzzing in a weirdly synchronized rhythm. 'Leaving the heavy lifting to the protagonists... it's surprisingly relaxing. Although, watching a regressor and a hero fight Outer Deities makes me want to brew a cup of tea and wait for the sun to explode.'
Amon's side of the consciousness chuckled. Or was it Klein's?
"Enough of your commentary," Roselle Gustav's voice boomed. He stood at the vanguard of the ship, his form shimmering with the authority of Half-Anarchy. He raised the Trunsoest Brass Book.
"[All dimensions—higher, lower, and current—shall become interconnected!]"
The void rippled as if layer upon layer of invisible glass barriers were being slammed together. The High-Dimensional Overseer, who had been attempting to ascend to the tenth dimension to disrupt the Genkelope's internal connections, suddenly found himself snagged. He could no longer traverse the dimensions unscathed; he was anchored to the current reality by Roselle's "Order."
"The hunt is on," Roselle declared. "You should get moving too."
"Of course..."
[True God 'The Fool' looks at Outer Deity 'Circle of Inevitability']
The battle erupted fully.
The High-Dimensional Overseer unfurled the illusory, coiled strings around. Space began to thin. Under his gaze, the stars in the background turned into flat, two-dimensional shapes, melding into a grand "Dimensional Painting."
"A world of paper?" A voice like thunder cut through the folding space.
Kyrgios Rodgraim manifested as a bolt of blue-white lightning. He didn't care about dimensionality; his [Electrification] was a speed that existed between the gaps of time. He punched through the Overseer's "Painting," the conceptual heat of his lightning burning through the "Fantasy" of the Outer Deity.
Beside him, Yoo Hosung—the One Invincible Fist—stepped onto the vacuum as if it were solid ground. He threw a punch. It was a simple, straight strike, but it carried the weight of the "One Invincible" status. It didn't hit the Overseer's physical form; it hit the Truth of his dimensionality. The Overseer's paper-like thinning was forcibly reversed, his form becoming a 3D mass of eyes and limbs once more.
It was 4-on-2, but the Outer Deities were not Great Old Ones for nothing.
The Monarch of Decay raised his rotting left hand.
Greenish-yellow pus dripped from his golden plates, each drop a virus that carried the [Certain Death] of an entire timeline. He didn't move to dodge Kim Suho's strikes. Instead, he made the Decay of the afterimage equal to the Decay of the main body.
Suho's Misteltein struck a phantom, but the feedback hit Suho like a tidal wave of rot. His armor began to rust instantly; his skin grew pale with a thousand diseases.
"Time... Endpoint," the Monarch hissed.
The surrounding flow of time slowed to a stagnant crawl for the heroes, while for the Monarch, it hastened toward the terminal point. The Stage Transformation Joonghyuk attempted to manifest through his stories was extinguished before it could even form, their probability "Decaying" before they reached the target.
"Don't let the process distract you!" Yoo Hosung roared, his fist glowing with a translucent aura that shattered the stagnant time-fields.
The battle was a horrific stalemate of symbolisms. Every time Suho cut a "Result," the Monarch induced the "Early Arrival of Termination," making the attack go wrong. Every time Kyrgios burned a dimension, the Overseer created a new rule within his "Painting World," becoming omnipotent within that localized bubble of reality.
After all Half-Anarchy's Order wasn't absolute.
Suho was breathing hard, blood trickling from his bandage-covered chest. He saw it then—the Monarch of Decay's left hand reaching out. It was a movement that bypassed "Process." It was the authority of Sure Hit.
Suho tried to raise Misteltein to cut the symbolism, but his mana core stuttered. The Monarch's passive aura—anything that can go wrong will go wrong—had finally induced a flaw in Suho's flow.
He was open.
The [Certain Death] of the Fourth Pillar's leftover was centimeters from his heart.
From the distance, Kim Hajin saw it as he was getting surrounded by three Myth-grade Constellations.
Hajin gritted his teeth. He didn't have time to shoot; he simply willed a prayer of absolute Good Luck onto Suho.
A portal of distorted azure mana erupted directly between Suho and the Monarch's rotting hand. The hand struck the portal, and the [Certain Death] symbolism was met with a wall of sheer, arrogant Reality Manipulation.
"ONLY I'M ALLOWED TO KILL PUHAREN, YOU FUCKING BITCHES!"
A woman stepped out of the rift. Her eyes were burning with a madness that rivaled the Outer Deities, and her hands were already wreathed in the power of a "King's Command."
"DID YOU REALLY THINK I HAD DIED?!"
Jin Sahyuk—the woman who had been presumed dead in the Demon Realm Gate—stood before the shocked Kim Suho. She didn't look at the hero she had just saved; her gaze was fixed on the Monarch of Decay, her presence an anomaly that the High-Dimensional Overseer's "Truth" couldn't immediately parse.
She spat on the "Dimensional Painting" floor.
Around Kim Hajin, who was shocked by the sudden arrival of the Final Antagonist of his novel, the temperature was skyrocketing.
He was currently the center of a celestial convergence, though not the kind he had ever hoped for.
Standing in a triangular formation around the Genkelope's observation deck were three figures of blinding, suffocating radiance. Poseidon, clutching a trident that hummed with the weight of every ocean in existence; Zeus, his very skin crackling with the lightning that had birthed a dozen civilizations; and Ra, whose presence was so hot it began to melt the reinforced mana-glass of the deck.
Zeus spoke, his voice vibrating through the hull and into Hajin's very marrow.
[We need to defeat the camp's leader, and the Scenario will end. Stop delaying the inevitable. The Final Scenario does not belong to extras.]
Hajin blinked, his hand instinctively going to the grip of his Desert Eagle. How did they know? He was the Author, yes, but in this massive army of True Gods and Transcenders, he was supposed to be the one in the shadows.
He looked up. Floating directly above his head was a massive, neon-red shimmering arrow. It pulsed with a rhythmic light, pointing directly at his skull like a quest marker for a world boss.
Hajin let out a long, weary sigh. "Of course. Thanks, Star Will. Real subtle."
From the bridge, Amanises and Lilith surged forward, darkness and life-force erupting to intercept the mythic pressure. But they were met with a wall of celestial iron. Zeus threw a master-bolt that partitioned the space, while Poseidon raised an ocean to block the goddesses.
[Stay back, daughters of Earth,] Ra commanded, his golden eyes fixed on Hajin. [The Sun shall be enough for this footnote.]
Chae Joochul, Eleanor, and Oh Jaejin prepared to assist, but Hajin's voice cut through the static of their minds.
"Act according to the plan," Hajin commanded, his voice cold and precise. "The Mother Tree is the priority. Fool's marionettes are holding her. Go!"
The Nine Stars hesitated for a heartbeat before veering away, streaks of light heading toward the tangled, metallic branches of the Mother Tree of Desire.
Ra looked down at Hajin, his lips curling into a sneer of divine pity. [Why are you so confident, little extra? If you give up now, the Sun will consume you before you can feel the pain. It is a mercy the Dominators would not grant.]
Hajin looked at the barrel of his gun. He asked himself the same question: Why am I so confident?
In order to kill a Myth-grade Constellation, you needed a power that equaled one. The Myth-grade were existences that had reached their 'Conclusion' or compiled Great Fables that touched the very edge of the universe's logic.
Hajin wasn't just an extra anymore. He was the one who had written the beginning, survived the middle, and was now witnessing the end.
[The absolute majority of Constellations are greatly shocked by your Status!]
[Your Status has caused the Constellations from great Nebulas to tremble!]
The violet light of his Stigma expanded.
['Star Will' has announced your new Status.]
[Your Status is 'Myth-grade'!]
"I'm not a footnote," Hajin whispered.
A stupendous, reality-shattering BOOM resounded through the void. The Desert Eagle was loaded with a Control Spirit Bullet—the gift Klein had given him, forged from a Worm of Spirit.
The bullet struck Ra's primary sun. The sun flickered. The bullet attempted to overwrite the god's soul. As a Myth-grade, Ra didn't become a marionette, but the shock of a 'mortal' attempting to control his divinity sent his mind into a terminal spiral of panic.
"What... what is this?! My spirit—!" Ra shrieked, his light stuttering into a dull orange.
He tried to retreat, his golden chariot turning to flee.
But his thoughts turned sluggish.
Hajin fired again.
This time it was the God-Killing Bullet, infused with an anti-magic attribute that negated the very concept of divine protection.
The bullet pierced Ra's forehead.
The Sun God dissipated into a storm of golden ash and broken sentences.
[Constellation 'Midday Sun' was archived!]
As Ra's modifier—[Midday Sun]—and his countless stories began to float toward the Nebula
"I'll take those," Klein-Amon's voice echoed.
Using Theft, the Lord of Mysteries caught the floating divinity. He didn't keep it. With a violent Grafting, he slammed the stories and the modifier into a figure fighting on the other side of the battlefield.
[You have created a legend that has never existed in Star Stream!]
[Story 'The Repeated History of Isis' opens its eyes.]
Surya, who had been struggling against Brahma, suddenly erupted in a supernova of true solar authority.
[Constellation, 'Surya', has inherited the Modifier 'Midday Sun'!]
[Surya has become the most powerful Sun God in the Star Stream!]
The battlefield froze for a microsecond.
[The 'Final Fable' is waiting for you.]
[The entirety of Star Stream is set abuzz over your achievement!]
[Majority of Star Stream's Constellations are now paying attention to your Nebula!]
Hajin didn't have time to savor the victory.
A sharp, icy vibration pinged on his smartwatch.
It was a status warning from the very fabric of the scenario.
[Warning!]
[Foreign Status is invading the Stage!]
Four rifts tore open at the edge of the battlefield, radiating a pressure that made even the Myth-grade gods of Olympus flinch.
Out of the first rift stepped a woman wreathed in white-hot, vengeful flames: The Living Flame (Uriel of the 999th turn).
From the second, a girl standing on the prow of a ghost ship that felt like a funeral shroud for a world: The Master of the Sunken Island (Lee Jihye of the 999th turn).
From the third, a giant of silver steel whose eyes were filled with an eternal, frozen sorrow: The King of the Silver Heart (Lee Hyunsung of the 999th turn).
And finally, stepping out from the center, a man in a worn, white coat with eyes that had seen the end of 1863 worlds.
The Secretive Plotter.
They didn't attack. They simply looked over the battlefield, their collective gaze weighing the souls of everyone present.
The Great Old One's formless mass of noise and static billowed toward the 999th-turn Kings, its many mouths chanting a desperate plea.
[["KINGS OF THE VOID! ANCESTORS OF THE COLLAPSE! AID US!"]] the conceptual shriek of the Inextinguishable Ravings.
"Be silent," a voice of absolute, hallowed authority commanded.
Chief Administrator Jesus stepped forward, his very presence acting as a holy gag. Behind him, Athena raised an aegis of blinding solar light, firing a beam that seared the Ravings' many tongues. Simultaneously, Medea unleashed a torrent of dark, chthonic magic that tangled with the Great Old One's status, dragging its shrieking consciousness into a momentary abyss. But no matter how they tried Ravings somehow always managed to destabilize their spells and magic/
Kim Hajin ignored the cosmic struggle. He pulled a shimmering card from his Stigma's inventory.
===
[Story of a Legend on the Mural] [Active Card] [9-star]＊Effective Good
===
"Phase two," Hajin whispered. With a flicker of spatial resonance, he vanished and reappeared directly in front of the Secretive Plotter.
The Plotter's white coat flapped in the winds.
'We're in space where the hell this handsome asses find wind? Is it like a perk of high beauty stat?'
He looked at Hajin, his eyes cool and ancient.
"You've arrived earlier than Han Sooyoung predicted," Hajin said, adjusting his grip on his Desert Eagle.
"Should I take that as a compliment, Black Lotus?" the Plotter replied, his voice a layered echo of 1863 lives. "Or, perhaps, Fenrir?"
Hajin glanced past him at the 999th turn survivors: Lee Jihye, Uriel, and Lee Hyunsung. He remembered—how the Chameleon Troupe had once dealt a critical blow to the 999th turn's Kim Namwoon after he defeated the Monster King Orden.
As if summoned by the thought, the current-turn Kim Namwoon unbuckled a small Gundam toy from his belt.
"Go-go power-rangers!" Namwoon cackled.
The toy expanded with a mechanical roar, transforming into the titanic Pluto. It wasn't just metal anymore; it was a patchwork of sacred gears and divine pistons. Pluto slammed into an Angel of the Monarch of Decay, the clash of steel and rot sending shockwaves through the fleet.
Suddenly, a wind began to blow across the vacuum. It was the scent of pine needles, wet earth, and blossoming flowers—an impossible forest manifesting in the deep cosmos.
***
The Nine Stars were closing in on the Mother Tree of Desire.
Up close, "She" was a horror of biological greed.
Her humanoid trunk was covered in chaotic, iridescent scales. Metallic emblems, black hearts, bare tumors, and ancient coins hung from her branches like festive ornaments. At the apex, two heads loomed: a male head with closed eyes exhaling the musk of obsession, and a female head with green hair whose beauty was a direct, localized attack on the heart's affection.
In the Fourth Epoch Trier, Rachel had proven that the Patriarch Pathway's symbolism was utterly countered by the purity of the natural world.
Chae Joochul stood at the vanguard.
He didn't open his fan.
Instead, he closed his eyes and began to pull. All the natural forces of the shifting dimensions—the mana of the stars, the resonance of the planetary ley lines—were compressed into his very pores.
Glowing, white-hot sparks erupted across his skin.
Beside him, Lee Seolhwa worked frantically. Her hands glowed with medical mana, stitching Chae Joochul's cells together as the sheer pressure of the universe tried to tear him apart from the inside.
Seeing the threat, the Mother Tree's Angel lunged toward the Immortal. Oh Jaejin and Eleanor stepped in to intercept, their weapons clashing against the Angel's limbs. Then, a rift of frost opened as Hela joined the Angel's side.
[This reminds me of the first generation stories, Queen of Niflheim,] a deep, regal voice boomed. Hades manifested, his bident blocking Hela's path. [I did not expect the Outer Deities to free you from the abyss of Asgard. Return to your rest.]
Chae Joochul roared.
His skin glowed in multiple colors.
The Mother Tree sensed the end.
She activated her stolen authority's power: [The Steel Lord's Absolute Bastion], the legendary defense of Heynckes.
A shell of impenetrable, divine steel coated her trunk.
"Terminal Cadence!" Eleanor screamed.
She poured her entire swordsmanship into a single, high-frequency vibration.
Chae Joochul looked across the battlefield.
For a split second, his gaze caught his granddaughter, Chae Nayun, fighting in the distance.
He remembered his daughter.
His grandson.
He still felt nothing.
But for some reason their faces surfaced at the back of his mind...
As the natural powers within him reached the point of singularity, the Origin symbolism of the Goddess Lilith resonated with him, strengthening his form.
He spat out blood. He became deaf and blind at once.
And then, he felt it—a lingering, gentle psyche within the wind he had gathered.
[Story 'The Princess who became the Earth' blossoms further!]
'Rachel?' His student's soul wasn't gone; it was woven into the very nature he was wielding. He didn't have time to weep or wonder.
He threw himself forward.
All marionettes and avatars of the Lord of Mysteries vanished in a flicker of spatial theft.
Chae Joochul entered the trunk of the Mother Tree like a lightning bolt entering a cloud. For a heartbeat, there was silence.
Then, a pillar of purifying white light erupted from the Tree's male head. The Goddess tried to protect herself, her female head screaming as she turned her entire body into Heynckes' steel to survive the internal blast.
The light expanded, a supernova of "Natural Purity" that blinded the Star Stream.
When the light faded, the vacuum was quiet.
Floating in the debris was no longer a living deity, but a gigantic, cracked, and blackened steel statue. The Mother Tree of Desire was frozen in a permanent, metallic scream.
The "Bastion" was a defense, but Eleanor knew the truth: the Mother Tree had absorbed Heynckes' authority, but she had also inherited the Side Effect. This was the result.
She had turned into a piece of Steel.
[Outer Deity 'Mother Tree of Desire' was archived!]
Secretive Plotter turned his gaze toward Kim Hajin. His shock was replaced by curiosity.
The ancient regressor's eyes, usually a void of indifference, narrowed as they fixed on the shimmering rectangle in Hajin's hand.
"That card," the Plotter's true voice vibrated, "it smells of a beginning that predates the first scenario. What is it, Extra?"
Hajin looked down at the [Story of a Legend on the Mural]. The 9-star rating was pulsing with a rhythmic, golden heat that matched the heartbeat in his own chest.
"I don't actually know," Hajin admitted, his voice tight.
With a grunt of effort, Hajin hurled it with the full force.
The card tore through the vacuum like a specialized bunker-buster, leaving a trail of shimmering golden brushstroke.
It struck the invisible, shimmering wall that divided the "Real" battlefield from the Final Scenario Zone—the forbidden space where the Ark rested.
When the card struck the barrier of the Final Scenario Zone, there was no explosion.
CRACK.
The barrier that had rebuffed the armies of three universes shattered like cheap glass. But the card didn't vanish. Its particles began to swirl and coalesce into a silhouette that made the stars themselves stop their movement.
The light faded, revealing a woman with silver hair that flowed like a river of mana. Her eyes were no longer just those of a princess or a hero.
[Story 'Legend on the Mural' has found its vessel!]
[Congratulations!]
[Your gift has evolved!]
[Authority: 'Queen of Elementals'!]
Rachel stood in the void, her presence commanding the very atoms of the cosmos. Behind her, the four Great Spirits manifested not as pets, but as Pillars of Creation.
"Hajin?" she whispered, her voice echoing with the purity of nature.
Hajin was frozen.
The shock wasn't just his. Above them, the Great Dokkaebis began to scream in unison. The Star Will began to seizure.
[St-ar Wi-ll is ex-perienc-ing a Cri-ti-cal @#@#!]
[Ma-in Scena-rio #98 — has been force-fully con@#@#!]
[Log-ic Error: Dissociation between 'Star Stream' and 'World Will' detected.]
[Pro-ba-bil-ity is leak-ing! The Scri-pt is melt-ing!]
Blue system windows overlapped and glitched, flickering between Korean, English, and a series of ancient runes that hadn't been seen since the First Generation.
"Hold them!" Hajin shouted, snapping out of his daze as he looked at the Secretive Plotter and the Queen of Elementals. "Hold them for as long as you can! I have to go inside!"
Without waiting for an answer, Spartan resting on Hajin's shoulder chirped, disappearing into the blinding interior of the Ark.
The Secretive Plotter watched him go, then looked at the horizon.
The death of the Mother Tree and the shattering of the barrier had sent the Outer Deities into a terminal frenzy.
The Monarch of Decay and the remnants of the Vedas and Olympus armadas surged forward, desperate to enter the Ark before the breach closed.
"You must be fucking kidding me," the Plotter muttered.
[How arrogant,] Klein-Amon's voice echoed across the universe.
Thousands of doors divided the universe in two.
[Pardon me, I'm afraid I have to leave you,] The Fool looked Circle of Inevitability and Goddess of Fate.
The Genkelope suddenly vanished from its position and reappeared directly in the path of the oncoming tide of gods. It was a massive, high-tech shield of mana and steel.
Klein-Amon stood on the prow, his monocle reflecting a thousand different "Errors" as he prepared to turn the battlefield into a logistical nightmare for the invaders.
"I suppose it's time to stop pretending to be an 'Extra' as well," the Secretive Plotter sighed.
His white coat dissolved. His body began to expand, his status skyrocketing until it threatened to crush the smaller ships nearby.
[Constellation, 'Secretive Plotter', is manifesting his 'Mythical Form'!]
The ancient regressor took the shape of a colossal composed of a myriad explosive suns.
Beside him, Rachel, the Queen of Elementals, raised her hand, and the vacuum of space began to fill with a forest of pure, defensive light.
From the distant, battered Earth, a streak of silver light tore through the vacuum—Rachel's rapier returned to the hand of the Queen of Elementals. As she gripped the hilt, the four Great Spirits roared, their forms expanding until they resembled pillars of the galaxy.
But for Kim Hajin, the sounds of the cosmic war faded into a muffled hum as he breached the airlock of the Ark.
Inside, the atmosphere was suffocating.
The interior looked uncannily similar to the Edenic Ark intended for the evacuation yet this version was terrifyingly evolved. The walls weren't just metal; they were carved from the pulsating, calcified fragments of a Sefirot. Contrasting rays of blinding white and devouring darkness leaked from the seams of the hull.
"Is this... made out of the Brood Hive?" Hajin muttered, his fingers brushing against a surface that felt like living marble. "How the hell...?"
He didn't have time to answer his own question.
The space ahead warped, and five figures manifested in a line, their presence so heavy it felt like gravity was trying to crush Hajin into the floor.
[Great Dokkaebi 'Heoche' is incarnating into the scenario!]
[Great Dokkaebi 'Harong' is incarnating into the scenario!]
[Great Dokkaebi 'Haram' is incarnating into the scenario!]
[Great Dokkaebi 'Horong' is incarnating into the scenario!]
[Great Dokkaebi 'Noksu' is incarnating into the scenario!]
[You've come, 'The Novel's Extra',] Heoche spoke, his eyes narrow with ancient, bureaucratic disdain. He didn't look at Hajin as a hero, but as a virus that had corrupted a perfect file. [You haven't earned the qualifications for this stage. You go against every law of probability. The Star Will is at war with itself because of your very breath. We cannot allow you to go further.]
"Where is Kim Dokja?" Hajin demanded, his Stigma burning. .
[Originally, this world-line was the 'Final World-line',] Heoche continued, ignoring the question. [The perfect conclusion. But because of this... Convergence... the distortion is beyond salvage. This world can no longer unlock the Final Wall. The epic tale that could satisfy the Most Ancient Dream is broken.]
Heoche's eyes flashed with a cold, terrifying light.
[You shall become the 'seeds.' We will discard this world and use your stories to sprout a new one.]
"What rubbish are you talking about?!"
The Great Dokkaebis didn't answer with words. They raised their hands, and the Probability of the Bureau descended.
A massive probability storm erupted inside the Ark. Violet sparks of backlash tore at Hajin's skin. He growled, falling to one knee as the weight of an entire universe's "Logic" tried to erase him for being an outlier.
Suddenly, the pressure eased.
[Someone has paid a massive cost to neutralize the Probability Storm!]
A figure in a worn coat and pink-coloured polo shirt with images of pineapples entered through the airlock behind Hajin.
The Mass Production Maker waved a hand, and a notification chime echoed through the Ark—a sound that signaled the spending of a 10-digit amount of coins.
[I never liked the Bureau's 'standard' pricing,] the Maker chuckled in his true voice.
At the same time, a shadow detached itself from the ceiling.
The Wenny King appeared, his humped back twisting.
"You aren't the only storytellers who can edit the Star Will," he hissed at the Dokkaebis. "And when the Will is this conflicted, it's so very easy to... suggest a new direction."
[The Wenny King is proposing a Restricted Main Scenario!]
===
< Main Scenario #99 – ■■■■ >
Category: Main
Difficulty: ???
Clear Conditions: Destroy the Fable Core powering the Ark. Stop the world-line migration plan of the Great Dokkaebis, Myth-grade Constellations, and Outer Deities. Time Limit: 24 Hours
Reward: The Final Wall
Failure: Absolute destruction of the current world-line.
===
Bihyung appeared beside the Wenny King, his horns glowing.
"Go, Hajin! Find Dokja! We'll hold the Bureau here!"
Hajin didn't wait.
He bolted down the corridor, his boots echoing on the Sefirah-metal.
As he ran, the air began to vibrate with the Original Creator's ravings—echoes of a god that had been split into a thousand pieces.
"Can you f*cking protect me?!" Hajin screamed into the void of his mind.
[We are already doing it!] The Kings of Outer Gods voices roared back. Lee Jihye of the 999th turn was visibly annoyed the most
Suddenly, a second voice entered Hajin's head. It was cool, polite, and tinged with an annoying level of calm.
'I thought I asked you not to parasitize me!'Hajin complained internally. 'That's disgusting, Klein!'
'I'm a little busy, Hajin,' Klein-Amon's voice replied. 'I am currently 'negotiating' with Vishnu, the Circle of Inevitability, and the Goddess of Fate.'
"The Goddess of Fate? I thought I killed her!"
'As long as the Fates of all things converge into the River of Fate, she is the Future," Klein explained. "Even if her body is ash, she manifests from the River. If you want her truly dead, you'll need 'Us.' But Hajin... do not trust the Wenny King.'
Suddenly, Klein's physical form materialized beside Hajin in a swirl of gray fog.
"Wait, what about the others?" Hajin asked, looking at the god beside him.
"Avatars and Marionettes," Klein replied, his monocle glinting. "We must hurry. As the King of Angels of the Wheel of Fortune, you should feel it too. The River of Fate is stagnant. The end is near."
They didn't run anymore.
Klein gripped Hajin's shoulder, and they plunged into the Spirit World, traversing the layers of reality at a speed that ignored the laws of the Ark.
They flew past islands of information and rotting fables until they reached the very edge of the universe.
There, stood a pristine, absolute white wall.
The Final Wall.
But the area was occupied. A figure stood before the wall, his form flickering with the stories of a billion stars.
"The King of Stories," Hajin breathed.
"I have been waiting," the Dokkaebi King said, his voice carrying the authority of the first story ever told. "I allowed you to reach this place because the balance must be addressed. I know what you are thinking. The Sefirots were taken behind the Wall by the Oldest Dream the moment Kim Dokja arrived."
"What does that mean?" Klein asked, his hand tightening on his cane.
"The Oldest Dream abhors this Convergence," the King of Stories laughed. "A dreamer who loves a story does not want other books to invade his shelf."
"Wait," Hajin stammered. "But the Dreamer... he's the one who made the Convergence possible!"
"A person who loves a story so much wouldn't want it to be unrecognizable," the King of Stories countered.
Suddenly, the white surface of the Final Wall rippled. A giant, translucent hand—small like a child's but vast enough to palm a galaxy—surged through the barrier, reaching for Klein and Hajin.
At the same instant, the King of Stories raised his hand, unleashing a torrent of Myth-grade Fables at the pair.
"Welcome to the end of the script," the King of Stories roared. "Where the Author and the Fool are no longer required!"
The space where Klein and Hajin stood was reduced to a zero-dimensional point. The Spirit World shrieked as reality itself was chewed into pulp.
But death was a fleeting concept for those who walked the path of Mysteries and Fate.
Within the swirling void, a cluster of translucent maggots—the Worms of Spirit—wriggled and coalesced. In a flicker of starlight, the Lord of Mysteries stood whole once more. Klein's top hat was straight, his monocle glinting with a cold, predatory light.
Beside him, a golden clock face manifested in the emptiness. Its hands spun backward with a frantic, metallic ticking. [Unique Skill: Clockhand of Fate] pulsed with a blinding radiance, forcibly rewinding the state of its owner.
Kim Hajin's body reformed, but something was different.
The air around him began to distort, not with mana, but with the raw, terrifying pressure of Origin.
A sequence of messages, larger and more ancient than any Star Stream window, flooded the vision of every existence at the edge of the universe:
[The condition 'Narrow Escape from Death (9/9)' has been met!]
[The shackles of the 'Extra' have been obliterated!]
[The Root of the Narrative recognizes your true essence.]
[Status: 'The Original Author' has been Unsealed!]
[The 'World Will' bows before its Architect.]
The King of Stories recoiled, his furry form of a billion stars dimming in terror.
"You... you aren't supposed to be here! This world is a closed loop! An Extra cannot be the Creator!"
Hajin didn't answer.
His eyes were no longer human; they were twin galaxies of burning ink.
His body, however, groaned—a vessel of flesh and bone trying to contain the status of a god who predated the stars. He had seconds before he would self-destruct.
"Klein," Hajin's voice sounded like a thousand pens scratching on parchment. "Seal the exit. Don't let the story escape."
With a flick of his wrist, Hajin didn't use a gift; he used Authority. He tore a piece of his own awakening soul and threw it at Klein.
[You have received an Authority: 'The Creator's Mandate'!]
That was the True powers of the Author. With just a thought he could create an Authority.
Klein felt his power over space-time crystallize into an absolute law. He slammed his cane down, and the entire Spirit World and Reality froze in a crystalline cage.
Hajin turned back to the King of Stories. He simply reached out his hand as if holding an invisible eraser.
[Character 'King of Stories' is being edited out of the Glossary.]
"No! Wait! The Dreamer—!"
The King of Stories didn't explode. He simply faded, his lines becoming sketchier, his colors draining, until he was nothing more than a smudge of lead on the vacuum.
Then, even the smudge was gone, leaving only an old fedora.
Hajin turned toward the Final Wall. The giant hand of the Oldest Dream was still pressing through, its fingers trembling with the weight of an eternal nightmare.
Hajin stepped forward and punched the wall.
It wasn't a physical strike.
It was the Author demanding entry into his own room.
CRACK.
A hairline fracture appeared on the pristine white surface. It was enough.
Klein grabbed Hajin's collapsing frame, and together they tumbled through the breach.