The Secretive Plotter's white star hung in the zenith, a cold, alien eye looking down upon a scene that defied the laws of mysticism. The air didn't just vibrate; it was being shredded by the clashing authorities of the world's most powerful entities.
Under the Plotter's [Gravity of the End], the three Traitor Angels—Leodero, Aucuses, and Herabergen—were pinned to the soil.
The pressure was so immense that Leodero's octopus-like Mythical tentacles were being flattened into the oily liquid, and Aucuses' golden feathers were snapping like glass under the weight of an entire universe's end.
But Herabergen, the Wisdom Angel, did not panic. His eyes, swirling with billions of stolen secrets and the logic of the White Tower, fixed on the Plotter with a terrifying lucidity.
"Omniscience... includes the calculation of variables," Herabergen hissed, his voice echoing through the [Realm of Mysteries].
He reached into the folds of his scholar's robes and pulled out an object that felt like a localized seizure of reality. It was a small, ordinary-looking die with deep red pips on each of its ivory faces.
Description of the item hovered in front of Plotter's eyes.
[Sealed Artifact: The Die of Probability](The Uniqueness of the Wheel of Fortune Pathway)
Herabergen didn't just throw it. He [Cognized] the exact momentum required to manipulate the un-manipulatable.
"God says: The improbable is now the only law!" Herabergen roared.
The die tumbled through the air, moving in slow motion despite the crushing gravity. It bounced off a floating piece of the Chernobyl dome and landed on the surface of the Chaos Sea.
The pips shifted. They didn't settle on a six.
The die tumbled. It was about to land on a '1'—Absolute Failure for the enemy.
Suddenly, a shadow slithered across the battlefield. It wasn't a shadow of darkness; it was a shadow of Time.
Ouroboros appeared.
He was in his Mythical Creature form—a gigantic, scaleless Snake of Mercury covered in dense symbols, each representing a different future. He encircled the area where the die was falling, biting his own tail.
[Cycle of Fate]
The air shimmered.
The die hit the surface of the Chaos Sea.
It landed on '1'. But then... it bounced back up. It flew backward, into Herabergen's hand. Herabergen threw it again. It landed on '1'.
It flew backward again.
"You are trapped," Ouroboros whispered, his voice a myriad of overlapping echoes. "The result '1' does not exist in this cycle."
He had trapped the Die of Probability in a Time Loop.
The result could never settle.
The "Bad Luck" could never trigger because the event of "Landing" kept being reset to the "Throwing" phase.
Herabergen's eyes widened.
The Wisdom Angel's eyes swirled with symbols.
[Cognize].
He analyzed the structure of the loop.
Herabergen tapped the [Ledger of Stolen Loopholes]. "I steal the 'Beginning' of your Cycle!"
The loop shattered. The die landed. '1'.
[Probability Amplification: Adverse Effects to the Limit]
The world glitched. The Secretive Plotter's [Gravity of the End] suddenly suffered a catastrophic failure. The "Probability" of his focus slipping, of his narrative weight being too heavy for the Recorded Past to support, spiked to 100%.
CRACK.
Ouroboros coiled around the Die, his mercury scales burning as they made contact with the Uniqueness. He couldn't use it, but he could suppress it.
The white star in the sky flickered and turned black, its gravity reversing. Instead of pinning the traitors down, it began to pull the Plotter himself upward, trying to tear his Spirit Body apart.
"Freedom!" Leodero exploded out of the sludge.
He didn't just stand; he became the [Storm Incarnation]. A hurricane of indigo lightning, five miles wide, erupted from his body. It was a [Descent of Calamity] so potent it tore the [Realm of Mysteries] into tatters. He wasn't just an Angel; he was the wrath of the sea given form.
Aucuses, the White Angel, flared with the intensity of a supernova.
[Unshadowed Domain]
The white light collided with Amanises' darkness.
The shockwave leveled the entire forest of the Kingdom of Silver in a single millisecond. Thousands of ancient oaks were turned into charcoal and then ash before they could even hit the ground.
"Mother!" Badheil, the God of Combat, roared.
He was a ten-meter tall Cyclops wreathed in orange-red twilight. He charged toward Omebella (Lilith) with his [Twilight Greatsword].
"Why do you stand with the Sun?! That stupid God killed your husband! He killed Aurmir! Why do you protect the one who brought our end?!"
Lilith, in her form as the Desolate Matriarch, looked at her son with eyes filled with a bitter, ancient sorrow. She was a mass of flesh and blood covered with golden ears of wheat and sinister vines.
"The world is bigger than a blood feud, Badheil," she whispered, her voice carrying the weight of a thousand harvests.
She raised her hands, and the earth rose in titanic spikes of obsidian to meet his blade.
[Maternal Embrace] clashed against the [Hand of God].
Every time their weapons met, the ground for ten kilometers liquefied, turning into a boiling swamp of mud and blood. Badheil's [Hurricane of Light] tore through her vines, but Lilith's [Life Aura] caused the very air to thicken with toxic spores that rotted the Giant's armor from the inside out.
Salinger, God of the Dead, saw his opening. He pointed a skeletal finger at Medici.
"[Death Decree]," Salinger intoned.
Medici, the Conqueror, laughed—a sound of clashing iron and screaming soldiers.
[Courage]
He didn't die.
He used his authority over War to share the death-damage with his phantom army of Red Priests. Thousands of illusory soldiers in his shadow turned to ash simultaneously, bearing the brunt of the God of Death's command.
"Is that all you've got, you bandaged freak?!" Medici bellowed.
He lunged, his [Spear of Destruction] wreathed in pure violet flames that burned not just flesh, but the very concept of the soul. He struck at Salinger's [Pale World], the violet fire devouring the colorless void, turning the battlefield into a kaleidoscope of screaming colors.
The battle was tearing the Eastern Continent apart. Tectonic plates were snapping under the pressure of near to True-Gods' powers.
Suddenly, the Chaos Sea beneath their feet began to boil with a sound like a billion souls screaming in unison.
The nine massive blobs of Beyonder Characteristics and the First Blasphemy Slate, which had been hovering over the Sun God's remains, stopped their dispersion. They were pulled together by a force that transcended the Die of Probability—the force of Convergence.
BOOM.
A pillar of multi-colored light—a spectrum of all possibilities—pierced the Astral World, shattering the dome of the sky. The stars above Chernobyl were extinguished, replaced by the internal radiance of the light.
"Here comes the second phase," the Secretive Plotter muttered. He manipulated the gravity-reversal affecting him, landing heavily on a piece of floating stone.
Out of the light stepped a Radiant Giant.
"His" head reached the stars of the Astral World.
Beneath "His" feet lay the Chaos Sea, encompassing all colors and all possibilities.
Behind "Him" trailed a long, writhing shadow with five distinct heads—each representing a different pathway of the God Almighty.
A sun blazed at the back of "His" head, turning the white star of the Plotter into a mere spark.
In "His" hands, "He" held a White Tower made of billions of shifting books, its surface adorned with thousands of blinking brass eyes.
The Ancient Sun God had resurrected, but his humanity was gone.
"How?!" Leodero screamed, his lightning flickering in terror.
"The 'Primordial God Almighty' doesn't care about your hunger, Leodero," Amanises shouted, her wolf form bristling. "Grisha is no longer there! It is the Creator's will alone!"
The Radiant Giant raised the White Tower.
[Omnipotence] — "God says: All that is not of the Origin shall be nullified."
A wave of absolute authority swept across the continent.
Salinger's undead army was vaporized into nothingness.
Medici's violet flames were snuffed out as if they were never lit.
Badheil's size was reduced until he was a mere human, his giant's strength replaced by the frailty of a child.
Even the Die of Probability stopped spinning, its faces turning blank.
"He's going to erase us!" Aucuses cried out, his light turning dim.
The Radiant Giant raised a hand to strike the ground. If "He" hit, the Eastern Continent would be erased from the map, leaving only a void.
"To the sea!" Amanises screamed, her voice cutting through the divine pressure. "We must drag him to the Sonia Sea! The land cannot sustain his existence!"
Medici and Leodero—enemies for an eternity—looked at each other through the chaos.
"On three, you overgrown calamari!" Medici roared, his face splitting into a grin of pure battle-madness.
[War Song] + [Thunderclap].
The combined sonic attack of a War Bishop and a Sea King hit the Giant's legs with the force of a million falling moons.
Simultaneously, Tolzna, the Abomination, used [Wraith Possession] on the space-time coordinates beneath the Giant's feet, turning the reality into a slippery, decaying slide. Lilith used [Naturewalker] to truly become one with the continent itself, tilting the tectonic plate of the Southern Kingdom by fifteen degrees, creating a literal mountain-sized ramp toward the eastern coast.
To isolate the damage dealt to land, Secretive Plotter transferred all the energy to momentum of God Almighty.
Amanises unleashed her final authority.
[Concealed World].
She didn't conceal the Giant. She concealed the Concept of Distance between Chernobyl and the ocean.
ZWOOP.
The entire battlefield—the Radiant Giant, the five Gods, the three Traitor Angels, and the Secretive Plotter—was warped across thousands of kilometers in a single, reality-bending instant.
They appeared over the easternmost front of the Sonia Sea.
The Radiant Giant roared, and the sea instantly boiled, turning into steam that rose to the Astral World.
This was the birth of the Sea of Ruins.
The Sun God was resisting from within. Grisha's human psyche was desperately pulling back on the Primordial's power, causing the Giant's movements to be jerky and erratic.
"Help me... finish it..." Grisha's voice echoed in the minds of the Rose Redemption. It was a plea for mercy.
The Secretive Plotter didn't hesitate. He wasn't fighting for the Sun God; he was fighting to end the script of this world before it consumed his own narrative.
[Giant Story 'Lonely Pilgrim of Destruction' is weaving its conclusion!]
[Giant Story 'Hell of Eternity' is manifesting!]
The Plotter's nebula-coat expanded, covering the boiling sea. He used his status to anchor the Radiant Giant to the sea floor. The gravitational pull was so intense that the sea level rose by fifty meters globally, and the seafloor beneath the Giant cracked open to reveal the mantle.
"NOW!" the Plotter commanded, his eyes bleeding stardust.
The Rose Redemption—betrayers and loyalists alike—unleashed their final, combined assault. This was the moment that would define the next two thousand years.
Amanises: [Absolute Death] — She transformed into the [Eight-Legged Demonic Wolf] and swung her bone scythe, carving a line of eternal rest across the Giant's throat. The darkness didn't just cut; it ended the Giant's "Future."
Salinger: [Pallor] — He released the [Pale World], draining every color from the Giant's radiance. The gold turned to leaden gray; the multi-colored Chaos Sea became a stagnant pool of ash.
Badheil: [Twilight Greatsword] — He lunged with the force of a falling star, plunging his blade into the Giant's heart. He didn't just deal damage; he injected the concept of [Twilight]—the decay of all things—directly into the Origin.
Aucuses & Leodero: [Pure White Light] & [Heavenly Punishment] — They bombarded the Giant's five-headed shadow, severing the connection between the body and the Chaos Sea.
Herabergen: [Cognize] — He stood at the edge of the void, identifying the exact millisecond where Grisha's human mind overcame the Primordial One.
In that split second of lucidity, the Ancient Sun God smiled. A single tear of golden ichor fell from his eye into the sea.
"Thank you..."
BOOM.
The Radiant Giant exploded.
The explosion was a [Supernova] on the surface of the planet. The light was so bright that it was seen by the inhabitants of the Western Continent across the Great Barrier.
Secretive Plotter surpressed all that imense energy.
The shockwave turned the Eastern Continent into a pitch-black void. The light of the Sun God was gone, replaced by a darkness so profound that even the stars couldn't penetrate it. The sun chariot of Aucuses was shattered, its remains falling as burning ruins into the boiling sea.
The Secretive Plotter stood on a floating piece of the Chernobyl dome, his nebula-coat tattered and his wings scorched. He watched the massive blobs of characteristics sink into the boiling, black waters of the Sonia Sea.
But the silence was short-lived.
Suddenly, a presence emerged from the shadow of the Giant King's Court on the horizon.
Sasrir, the Dark Angel, was no longer weeping. He stood at the entrance of the Court, holding the First Blasphemy Slate. His body was beginning to warp, his skin turning into a mass of eyes, mouths, and writhing tentacles.
Amanises, who had returned to her human form, stood beside the Plotter. Her starlight dress was shredded, her eyes weary.
"It's happening..." she whispered.
The sky over the Sea of Ruins changed. The clouds didn't just move; they coagulated into a titanic, hanging silhouette that spanned the entire horizon. It looked like a man suspended by his ankles from the very firmament of the universe.
Gravity suddenly grew heavy—not the physical gravity of the Plotter, but the gravity of Sin.
Every God and Angel present instinctively lowered their head. Leodero fell to his knees. Aucuses covered his eyes. Medici spat blood, his warrior's pride crushed by the weight of the aura.
The shadows on the ruins lengthened, moving independently of any light source. Every person—Badheil, Salinger, even the Plotter—noticed a second shadow beneath them. These shadows were incorrect.
Some shadows appeared crucified on invisible crosses. Some were twisted in agony, their limbs bent at impossible angles. Some were kneeling in a prayer of absolute despair.
Then, the Intrusive Memory hit them all like a physical blow.
Amanises saw the moment she chose to let her own pack die to secure her place as the Goddess.
Badheil saw the moment he felt relief, not anger, when his father was slain, knowing his own path to power was clear.
Leodero, Aucuses, and Herabergen felt the burning, oily shame of the meal they had just prepared—the cannibalistic greed that was about to define their godhood.
The Secretive Plotter gasped, clutching his chest. He saw the face of the 41st regression—the one he had left behind in a dying world to save himself. He saw memorries of 999th regression. He saw Kim Dokja.
The Sequence 0 of Hanged Man was being born.
The Third Epoch was officially over?
[The Recorded Past is collapsing!]
[The Star Will is screaming in agony.]
The Secretive Plotter looked up at the hanging shadow, his galaxies-eyes reflecting figure of Sasrir.
No, it wasn't Sasrir.
It was Ancient Sun God.
Fallen Creator, who came to regain 'His' authorities.