In the black-and-white world, an eerie silence descended. After Raven's departure, the Death God was sealed away, and the Dementors slowly retreated. The volcanic crater seemed to contain only Ian and the imprisoned Death God.
"Gulu~ gulu~ gulu~"
The volcano's magma bubbled and churned.
These bubbles initially expanded slowly, their surfaces glowing with an eerie orange-red light. As internal pressure increased, they began to tremble violently, their edges twisting and stretching like molten glass. Suddenly, with a pop, the bubbles burst, spewing scalding gas and shards of volcanic glass.
The remaining magma rapidly filled the voids like molten syrup, only to be pushed up again by new bubbles, presenting a clear indication that the Raven had used too much "fuel" when forging the infant earlier.
Even though the Raven had already left with his creation, the raging volcano showed no signs of calming. Ian had initially wanted to check if anything remained inside, wondering if he could push the crystal sealing the Death God into the volcano. After all, he had already confirmed that he could interfere with history.
Driven by this thought, Ian approached the crater's edge.
Unexpectedly, perhaps sensing his intentions or for some other reason, the Death God's immobile body managed to swivel its crimson eyes beneath the black hood.
At that moment...
Standing at the edge of the crater, Ian felt an unprecedented pressure bearing down on him.
The Death God's gaze pierced through the crystal that sealed him.
His crimson pupils suddenly locked onto Ian.
In that split second, a chill like a blade stabbed straight into Ian's bones.
He had been seen.
This was no ordinary gaze, but a soul-piercing stare. It felt as if the Death God was trying to extract Ian's existence from the river of time, re-examine, redefine, and re-archive him.
"Holy shit, that scared me half to death."
Ian's heart leaped in his chest; his entire body went rigid. He felt like a thief caught red-handed, along with the crushing pressure emanating from the Death God.
This shouldn't be possible.
Since entering the Black and White World, the Death God had never once turned its gaze upon him. Whether he was forging the Deathly Hallows or battling the Raven, his attention remained fixed on those directly confronting him.
From everything that had happened before, Ian had come to understand that he was merely an observer, an existence adrift beyond the currents of fate. Even when he intervened in history or influenced the past, he had never truly been "seen."
Yet now, those crimson eyes were locked onto him, at the most inopportune moment. Could the Death God have gained the ability to peer into the future from the past?
If so, wouldn't he face the Death God's retribution?
Ian's fingertips trembled slightly as he instinctively tightened his grip on his wand. Countless thoughts flashed through his mind: Escape? Fight? Or... transform into the Raven and peck out His eyes?
Before this berserk idea could fully form, the Death God spoke first.
"There is another round."
His deep, raspy voice sounded like rusted iron grinding against itself... low, icy, yet imbued with an irresistible authority. It wasn't a threat or a warning but rather a detached summary after a chess game had concluded.
This is not the end.
As soon as the words left His lips, the entire world began to collapse.
Space itself seems to crack open.
This wasn't a simple crack, as it felt as though reality itself was being torn apart. The ashen sky fractured into countless hairline fissures, peeling away in fragments like a shattered mirror. The black and white volcanoes crumbled from their peaks, their pitch-black magma solidifying into razor-sharp crystals that disintegrated into dust as they fell.
Even the Death God Himself began to fade like a pencil sketch being erased. His outline gradually blurred as though an invisible force were dragging him back to his own dimension.
He dissolved into wisps of black mist that slowly dispersed into the air.
Ian stood where he was, watching it all happen and feeling his own body gradually lose its weight. The ashen ground beneath his feet also collapsed, yet he did not fall. Instead, he floated within the void.
He could feel the black-and-white world being erased completely, replaced by a new environment.
It was him once again disengaging from the past. He could sense the Black and White World being completely erased, replaced by an entirely new environment.
The volcano was gone.
At the same time...
"The world is returning to normal."
Ian looked at the wand clenched in his hand. Its formerly monochrome surface gradually faded back into color. This was clearly the return of color.
"Kā-chā..."
The first streak of color spilled down from the sky like the first ray of dawn piercing the darkness. It began as a faint blue, and the gray sky slowly became tinged with pale azure.
Then came a soft gold.
The color of the Sun.
Subtle textures emerged on the rocky surface, transforming the once-monotonous crater rim into a landscape of distinct shadows and highlights.
The air warmed, no longer retaining the deathly chill of before, but now carrying the warmth of life. Finally, vibrant red surged back into the world, its hues flooding every inch of space like a rising tide.
When the last trace of black and white disappeared, Ian staggered as his feet touched solid ground once more.
The wind began to blow again.
Ian looked up.
He saw clouds drifting slowly and sunlight streaming through their gaps and illuminating his face.
"Finally, my feet are back on solid ground," he muttered. "I've been through plenty of strange journeys, but this one was the weirdest." He blinked to confirm it wasn't a hallucination.
He had truly returned to a world of color.
But this colorful world was not the Twilight Zone of the past.
It was the real Twilight Zone.
"Just as I thought... I'm back in my territory," Ian murmured, his fingertips tracing the luminous fronds of a nearby fern, feeling its tangible texture.
What he had just experienced was anything but ordinary.
He had no idea what had allowed him to see the past of the Twilight Zone.
After all...
Judging from the current situation, once the Twilight Zone was established, it may have become detached from history itself... a special domain transcending time.
Yet, even in the ancient era before the Twilight Zone existed, Ian had been able to connect with it.
This was different from what he had initially guessed when he first entered the black-and-white world.
There was no helping it.
There was still far too much that Ian didn't understand.
He didn't know why he could witness the Twilight Zone's past.
"It must be related to that mysterious Female Titan," He muttered to himself.
What he had seen felt more like deliberately revealed "memory fragments"; they were perhaps glimpses into the Death God's game with the Raven, or perhaps the truth behind the Twilight Zone's formation.
Regardless, the line, "There is another round," was the kind of thing that set the imagination racing.
It ignited a strong premonition in his heart: the Death God's game with Raven was far from over. The Death God hadn't truly lost, nor had Raven completely triumphed. Their battle was merely paused, awaiting its next restart.
Was the Death God hinting at that?
The next round... did it refer to His clash with Raven?
Or perhaps... to a confrontation with me?
Or had the Death God never mistaken my identity in the first place?
Could I truly be Raven?
And was the body I currently inhabited the infant forged by Raven himself?
In that moment, a flood of conjectures surged through Ian's mind.
He raised his head and looked toward the sky. The signature auroras of the Twilight Zone were flowing once more, and there was no trace of the Death God to be seen. Yet the chill of being watched still lingered, clinging to him like an unshakable shadow.
"Whew..."
The young wizard took a deep breath, forcing himself to calm down. No matter what the Death God was plotting, he was at least back on his own home ground for now. Soft grass covered the ground beneath his feet, and a lake reflected the starlit sky in the distance. Luminous petals drifted across the water's surface, each glowing with a different hue.
A faint floral fragrance permeated the air, accompanied by an indescribable sense of tranquility.
Yes.
After the black-and-white world shattered, Ian realized he was no longer at the volcano but back in a place intimately familiar to him. This wasn't a volcano. Not a black-and-white world. There were no Dementors or Death God here.
To his left, a somber castle stood perched atop a cliff, its weathered walls and towering turrets seemingly bearing countless ancient secrets. Ivy climbed the dark stone walls, its tendrils reaching toward the sky.
Occasional flashes of magical light streaked through the air.
An Ancient Dragon slumbered nearby.
This was the home of his mentor, Morgan, where he had once studied dark magic and alchemy. To his right, sunlight bathed a cozy little town, its red-tiled roofs and white-walled houses arranged in orderly rows. The aroma of freshly baked bread drifted through the streets. In the distance, bedsheets swayed gently in the breeze outside Ariana's cottage.
That was Ariana's home.
And in the middle...
A clear dividing line separated the two worlds.
To the left stood the gloomy, mysterious magic castle, while to the right lay the warm, peaceful town that Ariana called home. Between them, an invisible force seemed to draw a distinct boundary, as if the two realms were separated by an impassable barrier.
"Isn't this my usual stomping ground?" Ian murmured to himself, a faint smile tugging at the corner of his lips. This place had always been the most familiar part of the two worlds he traversed.
He finally confirmed that he had returned to the true Twilight Zone, a world woven by fate, existing outside the flow of time, a sanctuary that belonged solely to him.
"This place still puts me at ease," Ian chuckled, his tense nerves finally relaxing.
"I'm home..." He took a deep breath, turning away from Morgan's gloomy castle and stepping into a forest where spring reigned eternal.
He needed to find some peace first.
It was a magic forest where spring never faded, the place he had loved to explore as a child.
The trees stood tall and dense, their branches casting dappled shadows across the forest floor. Colorful butterflies danced among the leaves, and occasionally a deer or fox would peek out from the undergrowth.
Ian continued along the winding path.
Sunlight filtered through the gaps in the leaves, illuminating his face and finally allowing him to perceive the sensations he had been unable to experience in the Black and White World.
Beneath his feet lay soft, yielding earth.
Wildflowers occasionally peeked out, their delicate fragrance filling the air.
Suddenly, a mischievous monkey leaped down from a tree, cradling a crystal-clear fruit in its hands. It winked at Ian and tossed the fruit to him.
Ian caught the fruit and nodded with a smile. "Thanks!"
He took a bite, and the sweet, juicy flavor exploded in his mouth—perfectly balanced between tart and sweet. It was exactly the flavor he remembered. No wonder the monkeys had chosen it.
Fruits in the Twilight Zone were like that: either unbearably sour or unbelievably delicious. This one belonged to the latter category, and it was as if the entire spring had been condensed into this single, small fruit.
"Yeah, this place really is the best," Ian murmured, his mood gradually lightening as he strolled through the familiar landscape.
He munched on a fruit, wandering along a forest path.
Not far away, several rabbits with butterfly wings hopped through the underbrush. Unfazed by his presence, they curiously approached and sniffed at his boots.
"What, don't you recognize me anymore?" Ian crouched down and gently stroked one of the rabbits' heads. The creature closed its eyes, nuzzled his palm, and then hopped away.
As he continued deeper into the forest, the trees thinned, revealing a clear lake. Water birds glided leisurely across the surface, occasionally dipping their heads to snatch small fish from the water.
Ian sat by the lake, gazing at the tranquil surface. Yet his thoughts drifted back to his recent experiences: the Raven, the Death God, the Lord of Creation's heart, and that infant.
And that chilling phrase: "There's another round."
After spending over ten minutes by the lake, Ian still couldn't sort out his thoughts. He frowned, feeling like he was overlooking some crucial clue.
"Forget it. I'll stop thinking about it for now," he muttered, shaking his head.
He stood up, brushed nonexistent dust off his clothes, and decided to visit Ariana in the town. The boy continued forward, passing through the forest until he reached the town's entrance.
Everything here felt familiar yet had an indescribable dreamlike quality. Stone-paved paths lined with blooming flowers stretched out before him, and the rich aroma of hot soup drifted from the little tavern on the street corner.
That was King Arthur's tavern... or rather, Pandero's, which he had arbitrarily claimed. Since no one else lived here, all the town's buildings were freely accessible.
And right in the center of the square, a familiar figure was dueling a knight clad in silver armor.
"Ariana!"
Ian recognized the girl at once.
Even with poor eyesight, it was impossible to miss her. After all, there were only two residents in this place.
A boy and a girl.
The girl could only be Ariana.
She wore light training clothes.
In her hand, she held a slender sword, moving with agility and steady footwork. Each swing carried precision and power. Her opponent was a serious-looking blond-haired boy.
He was none other than the legendary King Arthur himself.
Before Ian could get any closer, he heard the clang of clashing metal.
Ariana's blonde hair, tied into a neat ponytail, traced graceful arcs through the air as she moved. Her swordplay was clean and decisive; each strike was imbued with controlled force. King Arthur, on the other hand, was as steady as a mountain. The Sword of the King was effortlessly parrying her attacks in his hands, and he was occasionally countering in ways that forced her to retreat.
The two went back and forth, blades flashing.
Ariana was as she always was: calm, resolute, elegant, yet firm.
Arthur was like an unshakable peak.
Every move he made carried the bearing of a king, yet he did not lose his gentleness.
"Steady your wrist a bit more," Arthur instructed. "Your strength is enough, but your control still needs refinement."
"Yes, teacher!" Ariana replied, breathing heavily, her eyes shining brightly.
Ian leaned against a fence, quietly watching them. Sunlight spilled over the two figures, the blades of their swords reflecting dazzling light. The scene was so beautiful that it left him momentarily dazed.
This... was real life.
The life he wanted.
Not those bizarre black-and-white worlds nor the schemes and clashes between the Death God and the raven.
'They seem to be practicing new tactics,' Ian mused. He didn't interrupt, content to stand aside and savor this long-lost tranquility.
The sun slowly sank toward the horizon.
A golden afterglow bathed the town.
The sparring ended. Ariana sheathed her sword and turned around, just in time to see Ian standing not far away. She was about to greet him when she noticed Arthur frown, his gaze locking onto Ian.
"You smell strange." The blond-haired boy said flatly.
(End of Chapter)
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