The prison was collapsing slowly.
Not from explosions.
Not from battle.
From absence.
Sections of wall simply no longer existed. Half of a staircase hung in the air, its lower steps erased, leading nowhere. Cells stood open not because doors were unlocked—
—but because the doors had been removed from reality.
Kael stepped carefully through the corridor, boots crunching on broken stone.
"Stay close," he murmured inwardly.
"I am," the god replied, voice faint but steady.
"But don't get too close to him."
Kael frowned. "Why?"
A pause.
"Because I don't know what he'll erase next."
Kael exhaled slowly and continued forward.
The deeper he went, the quieter the prison became. Not silent—just missing pieces of sound. Footsteps sometimes echoed, sometimes didn't. A distant scream started, then simply stopped midway.
Reality felt thin here.
Unreliable.
Then Kael saw him.
The boy sat cross-legged in the middle of the corridor, surrounded by gaps in the world. A torch beside him flickered, then vanished, leaving a patch of darkness that looked… unfinished.
"You came," the boy said without looking up.
Kael stopped ten steps away.
"You expected me?"
The boy lifted his head.
His eyes were calm.
Too calm.
"You're the loud one," he said. "The one who makes everyone nervous."
Kael didn't deny it.
"And you're the one killing hunters."
The boy blinked.
"Oh," he said softly. "Was that what he was?"
Kael felt a chill.
"You didn't know?"
The boy shook his head.
"He was in the way."
Silence stretched.
The forgotten god spoke carefully.
"Do not provoke him."
Kael ignored that.
"What's your name?" Kael asked.
The boy tilted his head, thinking.
"…I don't remember," he admitted. "They stopped using it."
Kael's eyes hardened.
"Then pick a new one."
The boy looked at him for a long time.
"…Noa," he said finally. "That sounds right."
Kael nodded once. "Alright, Noa."
Noa smiled faintly.
"You're not afraid of me."
Kael shrugged. "I've seen worse."
That was a lie.
And the god knew it.
Noa stood up.
As he moved, a section of wall behind him flickered and disappeared entirely. Cold air rushed in from somewhere deeper in the prison.
Kael stiffened.
"Can you control that?" he asked.
Noa looked back at the missing wall.
"…Not really."
❝System Warning❞
❝Host Stability: Critical Threshold Approaching❞
The god's voice tightened.
"He's overfed on authority fragments. His system is unbalanced."
Kael frowned. "Meaning?"
"Meaning if he keeps erasing things at this rate… he might erase something important."
Kael's eyes narrowed.
"Like?"
The god hesitated.
"…Himself."
Noa took a step forward.
Kael didn't move.
The air between them trembled faintly.
Noa stopped.
"…You feel strange," he said.
"How so?"
"Like something's standing behind you," Noa replied. "But not quite."
The god stiffened.
"He can sense you," Kael realized.
"Yes," the god whispered.
"That is… concerning."
Noa leaned slightly to the side, as if trying to peek around Kael.
"You're broken," he said softly. "But still moving."
The god didn't answer.
Noa's expression softened.
"That must hurt."
Kael's patience snapped.
"Enough," he said sharply. "We don't have time for this."
Noa blinked.
"Time for what?"
Kael pointed upward.
"Hunters are coming. Not the weak ones. Real ones."
Noa's eyes lit up slightly.
"Oh," he said. "More of them?"
Kael stared.
"You're not supposed to sound excited."
Noa shrugged.
"They're interesting."
The ground trembled.
Not violently.
Just enough to make dust fall from the ceiling.
The god's voice turned cold.
"They're here."
Kael turned toward the corridor entrance.
Three figures stood there.
Taller than the last hunter.
Heavier.
Their cloaks weren't ash-gray.
They were black.
And between them—
Walked something else.
Not a hunter.
A man.
Tall. Radiant. Calm.
Light bent slightly around his form, as if reality preferred him that way.
Kael felt his knees weaken.
"…That's not a hunter."
"No," the god said quietly.
"That's a god."
The radiant man smiled gently.
"What a mess," he said, looking around the collapsing prison. "You really shouldn't let children play with authority like this."
Noa tilted his head.
"Are you stronger than the last one?" he asked curiously.
The man chuckled.
"Yes," he said. "Much stronger."
Noa smiled.
"Good."
Kael's heart slammed against his ribs.
This wasn't excitement.
This was disaster.
The radiant god stepped forward.
"I'll make this quick," he said kindly.
"For all of you."
The forgotten god's presence trembled.
For the first time since the beginning—
He felt true fear.