*Year 807, March 3rd*
*I have left the Earth's surface and am now descending in an Airship.*
*The Light God, who nearly wiped out all of humanity in the Abyss-Sea, died on the surface. Only a being more powerful than Him could have killed Him.*
*I was originally pondering what that being could be. A more powerful God? Or something else?*
*But in that moment, I suddenly had a realization. What do any of these questions have to do with me? The surface is no longer the surface—at least, not *my* surface.*
*Whether this place is the Earth's surface devastated by a catastrophe or another world entirely, it has nothing to do with me. I no longer care who killed the Light God.*
*So many years of persistence have only led to a wrong answer. Now, I find myself wondering why I was ever so obsessed.*
