Translator: Alpha0210
Being special from the mont of birth was, paradoxically, not special at all for beings who originated from the Absolute.
Sytra was no exception to that category.
Her mory began even before birth. The intelligence that had cooled to a chill, the innate cold-heartedness, had analyzed the situation she was in even before delivery.
Birth and pregnancy.
Though she didn’t truly understand those concepts, she instinctively realized that this was a ti for her to “stay curled up”.
Feeling the pulsing heartbeat, she also accepted the emotions of the one carrying her. Through this first sharing of consciousness, she also absorbed the knowledge of her mother.
Because of this, even at the mont she first saw the light of the world, she did not cry.
And then ca growth.
With that ca more knowledge, more strength, and a firr sense of self.
Sytra was a mber of a mighty race revered as demigods, and she possessed not only longevity but also the trait of growing stronger as ti passed.
Without ever experiencing defeat, without even the need to agonize, she advanced stage after stage, and once she qualified, she naturally beca an Absolute.
Her peaceful life began to change from that mont on.
As was likely the case for most Absolutes, Sytra also couldn’t easily accept it.
That she had been a frog in a well.
Above Sytra, who had always looked down on everyone, existed beings who were far more overwhelming and powerful, glittering like a field of stars.
The “Top Universe” that every Absolute visits for the first ti after becoming an “Assistant”. In this universe, where only Absolutes exist, there was not a single being weaker than Sytra.
The “Council” that governs the Top Universe, the Absolutes who support them... the cosmic-scale disasters and threats... But among all those, what left the strongest impression was the being who arrogantly reigned above all Absolutes.
She didn’t even think about surpassing them.
The mont Sytra faced the thunder and lightning, she bowed her head as if it had been predestined. No other thoughts arose.
Then, everything beca easier. There was nothing left to care about, and she no longer had to make decisions.
She just had to follow orders.
Fortunately, among the Absolutes, Sytra was a bit special. She had even reached the level of Lord.
When she later beca a mber of the group called the Thirteen Thunderclouds, she unknowingly felt imnse satisfaction. The Lightning God smiled faintly and bestowed her a universe, and Sytra nurtured that planet to her liking and felt peace.
Happiness and peace, satisfaction...
…
…
Was that really the case?
At so point, a feeling of unease started to form in her chest. It would disappear only when she faced the Thunderous Lightning God, and when that presence faded, the feeling would rise again.
Even Sytra herself couldn’t clearly define the emotion.
However, when the “Great Ga” began, when the tale of the “Fifth Ruler” was brought up, when the “Void World” was revealed, and when the assault of “Destruction” fully comnced,
When chaos descended upon the entire universe, Sytra realized what that emotion was.
*
“I believed I was satisfied.”
Sytra muttered in a low voice.
“I thought I had reached a fairly decent position. A Lord that most Absolutes cannot even reach, and a mber of the Thirteen Thunderclouds, a group considered special even among them. That elite unit of the Thunderous Lightning God, I an.”
“That’s right.”
“I was granted several universes. I could reshape the planets there however I wished. Owning a private universe was a privilege granted only to a very small number among the Absolutes.”
“As far as I know, there weren’t even a hundred.”
“Yes.”
“……”
A brief silence fell.
Though they had no ti to spare, neither of them was quick to speak.
At that mont, Sytra once again felt a sense of incongruity.
Residue… was waiting. In other words, he knew patience. That was a quality that Rulers didn’t possess, nor did they need it. At its foundation lay respect for the other.
How many tis had it been now? That Residue had shown consideration to Sytra?
It was certainly rough. There was resentnt, there was humiliation. But it was hard to say it was entirely unpleasant.
…She hadn’t had many conversations with the Lightning God. Even though much ti had passed since she beca his subordinate, the tis they’d t face-to-face were so few that she could recall each one clearly.
And whenever she spoke with the Lightning God, Sytra always felt a strange stimulation.
Now she understood why.
“The Thunderous Lightning God never once looked at . Never acknowledged . Not even in the monts we were conversing. To him, I wasn’t even a piece on the board.”
“That’s right.”
“But you were different. You kept picking fights, insulting , firing lightning bolts whenever you were bored, never once changing that mischievous attitude… but I preferred that.”
Much preferred it.
Because.
“At the very least, it ant you were aware of .”
“……”
“I wasn’t satisfied. In fact, not even once. I rely conford. From the mont I beca an Absolute, always. Why was that? I obtained things anyone would envy.”
Sytra looked down at her hands.
“Because I never achieved anything with my own hands?”
“That’s wrong. Becoming a Lord, being selected as one of the Thirteen Thunderclouds, being granted a universe. You achieved all of that. Without perseverance and effort, you wouldn’t have gotten a single thing.”
“Haha. Are you complinting ?”
“I’m acknowledging you.”
Sytra curled her hands again.
She thought such a surprise attack was too unfair.
“But you never considered yourself. Nothing you achieved was of your own choosing.”
"What?"
“Among everything you’ve accomplished since becoming an Absolute, was there ever sothing you wanted from the beginning? Was becoming a Lord your true desire? Did you wish to be chosen as one of the Thirteen Thunderclouds? Was your ultimate goal to possess a universe and shape it to your will? None of it.”
“……”
“You were just intoxicated. By flattering rewards, by gifts that seed to hold infinite value… But there was no substance. Not once. Not a single ti did you obtain sothing you truly considered valuable. That’s why you’ve been suffering from a sense of emptiness all this ti.”
“What’s valuable to ? According to your words, is it possible to eliminate this emptiness?”
Residue clicked his tongue.
“You still haven’t co to your senses. Truly a pathetic mindset. You’ve co this far and still try to push it onto ?”
“……”
“How would I know what is valuable to you? Moreover, no existence has immutable value. It changes constantly, and its priority shifts mont by mont. Understand this. That’s not what I want to awaken you to.”
Sytra closed her eyes.
She now felt strongly that from this point forward, she had to realize it herself.
…Residue had been forceful. He had dragged her all the way here by force.
And then.
─Now, I am going to make a very unreasonable request of you.
At the crucial mont, at the mont where it mattered most, he wasn’t forceful. He didn’t command her.
In other words.
“…A choice.”
Sytra murmured in a low voice.
“You’ve given the chance to choose.”
Residue curled the corner of his mouth.
…He had called it a request.
None other than the Lightning God, the one who had once been the Lightning God, even if he had fallen, still possessing self-awareness befitting a Ruler-like being, had said that.
Ah. Now she understood.
Residue had been looking straight at Sytra from the beginning.
He had analyzed her, told her what needed fixing, and hoped for her to change.
And maybe, he had believed.
“Hm…”
Residue looked up at the sky. Was ti getting tight now?
“…The necklace.”
Sytra said.
“Could you lend that necklace for a mont?”
“……”
Residue looked at Sytra. She had a good expression on her face. The look of soone who had reached a decision, how beautiful it could be.
With a faint chuckle, he approached, unfastened his necklace, and placed it around her neck himself. At the approach, Sytra flinched slightly, then spoke in a barely audible voice.
“…I could have done it myself.”
“Don’t be like that. Who do you think caused that crack there?”
Sytra gave a sheepish laugh, then finished her prayer and headed toward Frey Blake.
She placed one hand on the corpse, and with the other, carefully held the necklace.
“……”
A simple corpse.
A human made of blood and flesh.
…But she knew it was a being rely imitating that form.
Its true nature was Destruction. A being that drifted from the unknown space known as the Outside and flowed into this place.
Fwoosh!
Sytra’s pupils turned white.
The corpse’s mind was simply void. Naturally so. This body had already ceased all biological activity, and not even a soul remained. If Destruction ever even had a soul in the first place.
However, Sytra did not give up.
A crimson light radiated from the necklace she gripped tightly.
Destruction.
Ever since realizing that they had been imitating the Lords, they had been an object of fear. A being she hated even to think about, now, Sytra wanted to deeply understand it.
She wanted to understand. She had to understand.
She had already seen disgraceful appearances countless tis.
Having co this far, she didn’t want to act like that in this mont.
It was then.
[Can you bear this?]
A voice ca, broken and stuttering.
Imdiately after, a powerful impact struck Sytra’s entire body.
“Gah…”
It felt like an unimaginably enormous being had struck her. Sytra’s mind was instantly shredded to rags.
Even in that mont, she was thinking.
This is the one.
If she could co to understand this being, it would beco possible to connect Residue’s consciousness to Destruction.
[You are not the one.]
“……”
[You are not the one. You are insufficient.]
“Shut up.”
Grit.
Sytra clenched her teeth.
Blood stread from her eyes as the capillaries burst. Even while vomiting blood over and over, Sytra was analyzing the being speaking to her.
What is Destruction?
These beings had no core identity. At least, the Destruction she had seen did not.
No one can completely imitate another being. No matter how perfect the performance may seem to a third party, the imitator themselves knows it is only a mimicry.
But these beings were different.
In the mont they imitated sothing, they truly beca that being. In that mont, “Destruction” did not exist.
Until a specific event or command triggered their reversion, they could beco the stolen identity perfectly.
‘No core identity…’
Sytra thought again.
Having no core identity ant they could beco any being.
They could beco anything.
If that was the case, then it was possible.
Just as Destruction had beco a stolen identity,
this side too might be able to imitate Destruction.
The template, the mold that created the mind called Frey Blake, she would apply it to Residue.
“……”
Residue felt the form of his consciousness begin to change. There was no need to resist. This was a necessary process.
In the pure white space,
he could see Sytra checking her appearance.
Dressing him in suitable clothes, adjusting accessories like a hat, glasses, and a watch, checking his complexion.
“This should do.”
Sytra, within the ntal world, said that.
“It won’t be perfect. I probably won’t be able to interpret everything. But this is the best I can do right now.”
“……”
“I’m sorry I’m still lacking.”
“No.”
Residue passed by, patting Sytra on the shoulder, and said,
“Well done, Sytra.”
Sytra’s eyes briefly widened.
The voice she spoke next was largely impulsive.
“If, if everything is finish well…”
It was around then that Sytra’s voice began to cut out.
“, your…”
He didn’t hear the rest.
Because before that, Residue’s consciousness was suddenly severed.
*
When he regained consciousness, he felt as though his entire body was being tightly bound.
It was like his limbs were being gripped by sticky, strongly adhesive tentacles.
The surrounding landscape was hard to define, whether it was the universe itself, or a lake that reflected that universe. All he could be sure of was that a multitude of stars was spread out in every direction.
And that sothing transparent existed in that space.
[You, are ■ ■■?]
It spoke.
He couldn’t properly understand it, but that was likely an error from the process of converting its consciousness into his language.
Still, this much was manageable.
“Greetings, Mr. Destruction. As expected, you’re not the core body of Destruction, are you?”
[That's an assumpt■■n.]
“Of course it is. Even if my consciousness has been tailored to match Destruction’s format, I can’t reach its source. I don’t even know if a concept like coordinates exists in that world... Anyway. My awareness can barely reach the very threshold of that pitch-black entrance.”
[…]
“And given the current situation, the Destruction lingering at the entrance is obvious.”
Residue spoke as if making a declaration.
“The Second Destruction.”
[How ■ you ■■ so ■■ch ab■t ?]
“Who knows? That's not what's important."
[…]
After a mont of silence, it spoke again.
[Wh■t bu■iness do ■ou h■ve here.]
Before answering, Residue paused to think briefly.
He pondered the tendencies of their kind.
Why Luca was an indispensable, conscious Destruction. Was it to prevent mutual hostility among them? That couldn’t be the only reason.
There was another possibility, like in the case of Frey Blake.
The error nad Luca had already appeared. There was no guarantee that another error wouldn’t erge among the Destruction.
In an extre case, a Destruction hostile to another Destruction could be born, and that wouldn’t be surprising.
What if, at that mont, the existing Destruction couldn’t stop the rampaging one? What if they were rendered powerless simply because they shared the sa identity frawork?
That was precisely why Luca, the intelligent Destruction, existed, to prepare for such a mont.
‘In other words, the true reason why a conscious Destruction must exist… is, paradoxically, to kill another Destruction.’
And Destruction is hostile to other Destructions that possess “a different frawork”.
Just like how “Luca” killed “Frey Blake”.
Thus, Residue’s plan was simple.
─He would bring down the second Destruction on a world that had not yet overco the first Destruction.
Residue’s lips curled into a smirk.
“You seem pretty unaware of what’s going on outside, so I’m feeling kind enough to offer a bit of advice.”
If things go wrong, it could an the end of the world,
but great miracles always co with great risks.
*****
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