The entire universe wept for the fall of a titan.
Across the cosmos, a suffocating silence draped itself over dozens of colonized planets. The sudden news of Supreme Commander Gilgamesh's demise rolled through the stars like an interstellar shockwave, and in its wake, civilization ground to a halt.
On countless worlds, the day was officially declared a day of mourning and a public holiday. Streets that typically bustled with commerce and neon transit were completely barren; citizens locked themselves inside their homes, lighting dim candles and offering quiet, solemn prayers for the soul of the fallen commander and the thousands of brave soldiers who had laid down their lives in the line of duty for humanity.
In the grand squares of planetary capitals, massive holographic podiums were erected. High-ranking officials and tearful citizens stepped up to hold public speeches, their voices cracking through audiovisual feeds as they endlessly thanked Gilgamesh for his centuries of unyielding service.
Funeral processions, empty of a body but overflowing with grief, were held simultaneously across several star systems. Even Earth, the cradle of human civilization, fell utterly quiet. The vibrant, glowing light districts that usually pierced the atmosphere were intentionally dimmed to a somber, muted hue.
The very air felt heavy, thick with a collective, planet-wide sorrow that suffocated any sense of normalcy.
---
Far away from the mourning crowds, down an unremarkable corridor buried within a dense residential block, Zazm walked forward.
His heavy boots made no sound against the worn floorboards of the hallway.
He stopped before a chipped, faded door and knocked.
A moment later, the door swung open.
The apartment inside was entirely devoid of luxury. It was an old, cramped space filled with okayish, utilitarian furniture that had seen better days, though the entire layout was meticulously well-kept and clean.
Dennis stood inside.
The moment his eyes registered the visitor, his posture straightened instantly, abandoning his casual lean.
"Supreme Commander Zazm," Dennis said, stepping aside to clear the entryway. "Please, come inside."
Zazm crossed the threshold without a word, his dark cloak brushing the doorframe as Dennis guided him into the small drawing room.
Zazm settled onto a modest sofa, his movements deliberate.
"The date for the next emergency meeting of the Supreme Commanders has arrived," Zazm stated, his voice flat, cutting straight through the domestic quiet.
Dennis leaned against the edge of a wooden table, crossing his arms.
"What do you plan to do?"
Zazm looked up, his expression completely emotionless.
"Attend it. What else?"
Dennis shifted his weight, his eyes narrowing slightly as he studied the commander's face.
"I don't think you should underestimate the other Supreme Commanders' intelligence and information-gathering abilities, Sir. They aren't fools."
Zazm's blank gaze didn't waver.
"What is there to fear? After all, the official record states Gilgamesh died when he was forced to self-destruct his own vana from the inside while facing a monstrously strong foe. He took the enemy down with him to ensure humanity's safety."
Dennis let out a short, quiet breath, a faint smirk playing on the corner of his lips.
"Right... that's exactly the narrative that's been circulating out there."
Zazm gave a slight, almost imperceptible nod.
He stood up from the sofa, the fabric of his dark attire settling back into place.
"Regardless, I'll be leaving now."
Dennis nodded, walking him toward the threshold.
"I'll go and see who the next potential candidate is to fill the void."
Zazm gave a final nod of acknowledgment.
Then, in the blink of an eye, he vanished into thin air.
Dennis jumped backward, startled by the sudden displacement of air. He blinked at the empty space, shaking his head.
"If he can bother coming in through a damn door, why the hell can't he leave using the door too?"
He turned back around, sighing as he tidied a cushion on the sofa.
"I guess it's just more convenient for him."
---
After a long absence, Zazm entered the Null Flux Chamber.
He stepped out onto one of the massive, glowing rings that suspended themselves over the infinite void of the chamber.
In front of him, a colossal, transparent screen flickered to life, broadcasting a continuous stream of news from around the universe, all detailing the massive grieving efforts for Gilgamesh.
A prominent headline flashed in bold letters:
"The Hero of Humanity, who helped the citizens to the absolute best of his abilities, has sadly passed away."
Suddenly, a slender, pale finger extended from behind Zazm's shoulder.
"They really don't know anything, do they?" Zephyra spoke, her voice laced with a sleepy, profoundly bored drawl.
She wrapped her arm back around Zazm's neck, her other arm draping lazily over his chest as she rode casually on his back, her chin resting near his shoulder as she always did.
She shifted her weight, changing her position slightly to get more comfortable, her fingers tightening briefly on his cloak.
"How many times does it make it now?"
Zazm remained entirely quiet.
He kept walking along the ring, ignoring the commentary until he reached the towering, monolithic doors of the main meeting hall.
With a deep, mechanical groan, the gigantic doors slowly parted, and Zazm stepped into the council chamber.
The meeting hall was vast and striking.
Eight small, independent capsules floated gracefully in the ambient air, each holding a luxurious chair that looked far more like a sovereign throne than mere office furniture. Each capsule possessed its own unique aesthetic and vibe, reflecting the commander who occupied it.
Below them, the ground was a complex maze of turning mechanical gears and metallic grates, though the lower levels were heavily obscured by a thick, rising fog and cascading artificial waterfalls that filled the room with a constant, low rush of water.
"You're here," Lorriel spoke, her voice cutting through the mist as her capsule drifted slightly.
Zazm looked up, giving a single, terse nod.
In the next millisecond, he vanished from the walkway and reappeared seamlessly on his obsidian-black throne.
Floating on the capsule immediately next to him was Supreme Commander Rhyes, who was resting his chin on his hand.
Directly in front of them were the capsules of Supreme Commander Lorriel and Aina. On Zazm's opposite flank sat Supreme Commander Toreth, with Renzo occupying the neighboring capsule just beyond him.
One remaining capsule floated entirely empty, casting a hollow shadow, while on another sat Supreme Commander Paul.
Paul looked severely depressed; dark, heavy circles lined his eyes, and his skin appeared significantly paler and thinner than usual, his posture completely slumped.
Rhyes cleared his throat, leaning back into the cushions of his throne as the capsules aligned.
"Now that everyone is present, let us first begin by extending our profound sadness regarding the tragic death of our fellow comrade-in-arms. Supreme Commander Gilgamesh fought valiantly for the ultimate sake of humanity. His name will be permanently remembered throughout our history, and the world will never forget this day."
Renzo nodded slowly, folding his massive hands over his broad chest.
"It is truly unfortunate," he rumbled, his deep voice vibrating the capsule. "But a man of his stature is undoubtedly in a better place now. To die while fighting to protect... there is no nobler death for a soldier."
Lorriel nodded in agreement, adjusting the drape of her sleeve.
"Death is an inevitability for us all. However, as the protectors of this world, we can only hope for it to happen while we are executing our duties."
Aina shifted in her seat, her gaze drifting across the gap toward Paul's capsule.
"Supreme Commander Paul... you don't seem okay at all."
Paul weakly managed to lift his head, his hollow eyes blinking slowly against the harsh ambient light of the hall. His voice was a thin rasp.
"I'm... barely fine."
Rhyes leaned further back on his chair, his eyes tracking Paul's slight tremors.
'It's only a given that Paul would be completely depressed.'
Rhyes thought to himself.
'After all, Gilgamesh wasn't just a colleague to him; he was someone Paul raised and nurtured like his own kid.'
Rhyes shifted his gaze, turning his head slightly toward Zazm, who sat perfectly still and quiet on his obsidian throne.
'Now then... what's your next move, Zazm?'
Zazm finally broke his silence, his flat voice commanding the room.
"That concludes the acknowledgments of his death. Now, we must address who will succeed him."
Rhyes tapped his fingers against his armrest.
"It isn't that simple of a matter, Zazm. A massive amount of our forces to be precise, almost the entire elite vanguard of the Iron Halo have been completely wiped out in that valley."
Renzo leaned forward, resting his elbows on his table as he tried to find a solution for the problem at hand.
"The entire matter is far more fragile than I had originally anticipated. To think we have sustained such a staggering, catastrophic loss in a single engagement."
Lorriel crossed her arms, her brow furrowing as her capsule drifted an inch.
"We are rather stuck then, Paul." she called out softly, "do you have someone prepared to be crowned as Gilgamesh's official successor?"
Paul weakly managed to look up once more, slowly shaking his head as a bitter sigh escaped him.
"Unlike your factions or the Obsidian Fang... we never felt the need to crown or groom immediate successors. Our jurisdiction and assignments were fairly safe, predictable. This is a first in the entire history of the Iron Halo... an entirely unprecedented incident."
Rhyes raised a finger, pointing it slightly toward the center of the ring.
"Then we aren't left with many viable choices at our disposal. We'll need to actively search for and find someone capable of handling the burden ourselves."
Aina shook her head, her fingers tracing the armrest of her throne.
"But choosing a Supreme Commander carelessly can cause extreme, irreversible harm to the hierarchy. It's a position that wields absolute authority, no matter where you go in the universe."
Rhyes nodded, acknowledging the point.
"That's exactly why we will have to implement additional precautions during the selection process."
"I agree," Renzo chimed in, adjusting his seating position.
"However, how do you actually plan to find someone truly capable, Rhyes? What's the strategy?"
Lorriel let out a dry, mocking chuckle, tossing her head back slightly.
"I certainly hope you're not planning to post an advertisement online for a Supreme Commander."
Rhyes smiled slightly, unusual to his stoic face, "I also just arrived here at the same time as everyone else, Miss Lorriel. Don't expect me to have calculated every single step ahead of time. I simply proposed the most logical conclusion given our circumstances."
Renzo tapped his chin thoughtfully.
"Why not just let one of the high-ranking officers from the Obsidian Fang temporarily take up the vacant slot?"
Rhyes immediately shook his head, his smile fading into a serious expression.
"No. This specific position is one rooted heavily in politics and diplomacy. The Obsidian Fang are soldiers explicitly trained to fight and destroy. While it's certainly their job to lead units in battle, they completely lack the political experience required to run a faction like the Iron Halo."
A heavy, lingering silence fell over the room, the sound of the distant waterfalls below echoing off the metal frames.
"I disagree," Zazm spoke up, breaking the quiet.
Rhyes turned his head back toward him, his eyes focusing on Zazm. "Do you have something to suggest?"
Zazm gave a slight nod.
"Instead of rushing to choose a permanent new successor, I highly recommend we leave the position entirely vacant for the time being."
Renzo raised an eyebrow, his massive forehead wrinkling in confusion.
"And what exactly will that achieve, Zazm?"
Zazm adjusted his posture slightly on the obsidian chair.
"I am not suggesting we leave it vacant forever. But instead of choosing a permanent Supreme Commander and immediately handing them absolute authority over the faction, it will be far safer to select a 'temporary' Supreme Commander. If they manage to fulfill everything that is expected of them during this trial period, then they can officially join the ranks of the Supreme Commanders permanently."
Rhyes listened intently, slowly nodding his head as the logic clicked.
"I understand exactly what you're trying to say. It's definitely a much safer route, and it effectively gets rid of any potential uprising or insubordination problems from within their ranks."
Aina nodded her agreement, leaning back.
"I also agree with the sentiment. However, it's the first time something like this will ever be implemented in our history. And we still have absolutely no idea who to even choose as this temporary Supreme Commander to begin with."
"That part can be managed," Rhyes said smoothly, adjusting his cuffs. "I'll handle the screening for that."
Lorriel shifted her gaze toward Zazm, her expression curious.
"Zazm, how about choosing one of the Catalysts under your jurisdiction? It's a relatively safe desk job compared to the front lines, isn't that exactly what you'd want for them?"
Zazm shook his head without hesitation.
"I refuse. We are all deeply aware of the suffocating politics, the endless paperwork, and the massive headaches we have to deal with up here. Besides,I doubt they'd be willing.
Furthermore, the position of the Iron Halo means having to constantly get involved with a massive number of civilians and officials, as their job description is inherently related to protecting from the front lines to begin with. It is not a nightmare I want to throw at them."
Renzo nodded approvingly.
"Makes total sense."
Aina looked around the floating capsules, her hands resting flat on her lap.
"Well, everything major has been addressed now, so are we done?"
The commanders collectively nodded in unison, preparing to dismiss the council, until Rhyes's sharp eyes locked onto the far side of the room.
"Everything is wrapped up," Rhyes spoke, his voice carrying a note of sharp curiosity. "But... why are you being so quiet over there?"
Instantly, everyone's eyes darted across the chamber to the man sitting with dark green hair and matching dark green eyes.
Toreth didn't reply. He didn't even look up. He just kept staring blankly down at the surface of his table, his expression completely vacant, as if his mind were entirely in another dimension.
Renzo cleared his throat, raising his voice to a loud, booming tone that echoed off the waterfalls.
"Hey, Toreth! Rhyes wishes to talk to you, Toreth!"
However, Toreth remained utterly motionless, save for his index finger, which kept tapping rhythmically and aimlessly against the armrest of his chair. He still looked like he was a million miles away.
Lorriel rolled her eyes, looking around her capsule for something to break the trance. Her eyes landed on a crystal water glass resting on her console.
She picked it up and, with a swift flick of her wrist, threw the glass straight across the gap at Toreth's capsule.
Smack.
The glass struck Toreth squarely in the face, fracturing into a dozen sparkling shards that rained down onto his desk.
Toreth blinked rapidly, his head snapping up as he rubbed his cheek.
"Ahh... apologies. I completely zoned out. My mistake.
But dear sister, you shouldn't go around throwing things at people."
Lorriel crossed her arms saying, "and you shouldn't go around ignoring people."
Rhyes leaned forward in his floating capsule, his fingers interlacing as he peered through the lingering fog at the green-haired commander.
"So, is anything bothering you, Toreth?"
Toreth let out a long, heavy sigh, brushing a few stray shards of glass from his shoulder.
He shifted slightly on his throne, his green eyes reflecting the dim light of the chamber.
"I didn't know what to say at first," he admitted, his voice carrying a sudden weight. "And then... I just got hurdled with some thoughts."
Renzo folded his massive arms over his chest, his capsule drifting a fraction of an inch closer.
"Mind sharing them?"
Toreth leaned back, his gaze wandering toward the vast, turning mechanical gears beneath the grate.
"It's been fifteen years since I'm meeting everyone again."
Across the hall, a subtle ripple of confusion passed through the council.
Everyone's eyebrows went up slightly.
Lorriel shifted her weight, leaning against the edge of her luxurious chair as she gave him a skeptical look.
"What do you mean, Toreth? We met like one and a half years ago, right before you started working on that mega project of yours."
Toreth nodded slowly, a wry smile touching his lips.
"In the real world, yes. But the ship we are making is being developed inside a time capsule Zazm made—a localized rift where time flows entirely differently."
Renzo let out a low rumble, adjusting his position.
"Ah, yes. I remember that. Thanks to that project, I barely have any people left to work with on the main base anymore. My logistics are completely stripped."
Toreth let out a short, awkward laugh, scratching the back of his neck.
"This project is more important, Renzo."
Rhyes tapped his fingers rhythmically on his armrest, his analytical mind already parsing the numbers.
"How much time has actually passed inside that time capsule?"
Toreth's smile faded into something far more solemn, a sharp glint of sadness flashing across his face.
"One year out here is roughly equal to fourteen years and seven months inside the time capsule."
Rhyes blinked, his posture stiffening in slight surprise.
"What? It's that much?"
Toreth offered a quiet nod.
He stared blankly into the rising mist of the hall.
"There are millions of humans working in there with us. A lot of them... they have already forgotten how their families used to behave like. They live every single day purely for the sake of humanity, just working. Non-stop."
A heavy, suffocating silence washed over the room, drowned out only by the distant, echoing rush of the artificial waterfalls.
Renzo broke the quiet, his massive hands tightening against his arms.
"Assuming this project takes four years to complete like you originally estimated in the real world... then almost sixty years would have passed inside that time capsule."
Toreth nodded, his green hair shifting as he lowered his head.
"Most people would come out as corpses therefore. I'm an elf, so sixty years are like sixty human months to me, but even to me... it feels like such a long time."
Rhyes leaned his chin on his palm, his sharp eyes fixed on the elf.
"Have you talked to the families of the people inside?"
Toreth nodded, his hand drifting to the armrest.
"I did, just before leaving the capsule. And a lot of them were relatively happy."
Zazm finally spoke, breaking his long, uncharacteristic streak of silence.
He sat perfectly straight on his obsidian throne.
"That's rather surprising."
Toreth looked over at Zazm, a faint, melancholic smile returning to his face.
"When your life is constantly on the line, you stop asking what you're giving up. You start asking whether humanity will still be here if you don't."
Zazm's obsidian eyes remained unblinking.
"Is that so."
Zazm adjusted his position slightly, his voice dropping into a cold, detached cadence.
"Truth be told, I don't understand a lot of this. I'm still relatively an outsider here. The only reason I fight is simply because I have a goal. I don't know how people find the courage to do this."
Toreth's smile grew sadder as he watched Zazm.
"History remembers heroes for what they achieved, Zazm. It rarely remembers what they had to leave behind to achieve it."
Lorriel shifted her gaze, her eyes locking onto Zazm's emotionless face.
"I've always wondered something about you, Zazm."
Zazm turned his head slightly toward her, his expression completely blank, giving nothing away.
Lorriel continued, gesturing faintly with her hand.
"We all have been raised here. We have seen people suffer, we've lived through wars, we've watched our precious comrades die, our families die. We have a clear, deep-rooted reason to fight. But like you just said... you don't have that kind of reason."
"I have a reason," Zazm spoke, his tone freezing the ambient air. "And that is my goal."
Lorriel leaned forward, her voice narrowing.
"Is this goal of yours not achievable by joining the Remnants instead?"
Zazm didn't hesitate.
He gave a blunt nod.
"It is."
The statement dropped like an anvil.
Everyone in the room simultaneously turned their heads, their eyes locking onto Zazm with varying degrees of shock and suspicion.
Rhyes straightened up, his eyes narrowing into slits.
"Then why didn't someone as monstrously strong as you join them? You also possess what they have, don't you?"
Zazm looked down at his own hands, his voice steady.
"It was a possibility. Be it a mere coincidence, but we were first brought to humanity's side. And eventually... I realized this side just has more to offer."
Aina, who had been listening quietly from her capsule, leaned forward, her expression earnest.
"What is your goal?"
She paused, shaking her head slightly.
"I'm sorry if I'm prying, but it's just something I had to ask. Like... someone as impossibly strong as you, what is it that you actually want to achieve?"
Zazm leaned back into his obsidian throne, letting the silence fill the room for a few agonizing seconds.
"The multiverse is entirely messed up," he said flatly. "My goal is to fix it."
Renzo nodded, a heavy sigh escaping his chest.
"We are well aware of the multiverse being messed up part. Thanks to the King."
Zazm nodded in return.
"He broke the natural order, which resulted in everything becoming completely broken. If it isn't fixed... everything aside from this universe will be destroyed."
Aina blinked, her hands gripping the edge of her console.
"Why won't this universe be destroyed?"
"I don't know," Zazm replied, his voice entirely devoid of emotion. "But this universe is stable enough to survive the collapse. Perhaps it's somehow related to the First King, but I don't know the specifics."
Lorriel let out a sharp breath, her eyes tracking Zazm's steady posture.
"So you're simply helping us because it works in your favor? Otherwise, your own home would be destroyed."
Zazm moved his head in a slight, indifferent nod.
Toreth shifted on his seat, leaning forward as he asked a question that had lingered for years.
"Is it really the truth that you just randomly got your powers one day?"
Zazm kept his gaze fixed ahead as if listening to something no one else in the room could perceive.
But in truth, he wasn't looking at the council at all.
Zephyra stood directly in front of him.
So close that there was no distance left to measure between them, they could feel each other breaths on their faces, no room for thought. Only presence.
Her glowing purple eyes locked onto his.
"I woke up on one normal day with a letter by my side, along with this mark on my hand."
Zazm's dark eyes perfectly reflected her features in the dim light.
Her face, her expression, the faint glow of her gaze… all of it was trapped inside his pupils as if his very vision had been rewritten to recognize only her existence.
Her lips moved silently, and as she spoke, Zazm repeated her words verbatim to the council.
Zazm continued, his voice steady but no longer entirely his own.
"Before I knew it... I started seeing threads."
Zazm continued, his voice perfectly aligning with the ghost-like movements of the girl only he could see.
"Those threads were related to my powers."
Rhyes let out a dry hum, adjusting his posture.
"I thought that was just a cover story."
For a fraction of a second, Zephyra's reflection in his eyes flickered—like a memory trying to surface through broken glass.
Then it steadied again.
"It's the truth."
Lorriel massaged her temples, placing her hand firmly on her forehead.
"What did the letter say?"
Zephyra's expression softened—almost like she was remembering something far away, something Zazm himself could not reach.
Her lips parted.
"The clock strikes twelve," she whispered.
Zazm repeated instantly.
"The clock strikes twelve."
"The clock strikes twelve."
No delay. No interpretation. Just direct transfer.
Zephyra's gaze didn't leave his.
"Everything shifts."
"Everything shifts," Zazm echoed.
Lorriel dropped her hand, frowning deeply.
"That's incredibly vague."
Rhyes let out a soft snort, shaking his head.
"Did a child write that letter?"
"I don't know about that," Zazm replied flatly.
Rhyes stood up from his luxurious chair, stretching his limbs as his capsule began to lower toward the mechanical floor.
"Well, we have chatted enough. But for some reason..."
He paused, turning his head back to look at the obsidian throne.
"We have known you for quite a while, Zazm, but only today did it feel somewhat like we actually met you."
Zazm remained completely quiet, his face an unreadable mask of stone.
Lorriel simply nodded in agreement with Rhyes's words.
Aina's capsule also began its descent, and she offered a gentle smile.
"Trust others a little more, Zazm. Don't worry too much."
Renzo and Toreth stood up from their respective thrones in unison.
Renzo stretched his massive arms, a loud pop echoing from his joints.
"Well, I currently have enough work piled up for a hundred people, so I'm taking my leave."
Toreth waved a hand lazily at him as he stepped off his capsule.
"I'll be leaving as well."
"Toreth, wait," Lorriel called out, her capsule halting mid-descent. "There is something I need to talk to you about."
Toreth paused, leaning his back against a nearby wall on the lower level, his arms crossed.
"Very well."
Rhyes jumped down from his platform with practiced ease.
"Then we'll leave first."
Aina followed closely behind, stepping onto the mechanical grates, and so did Paul, who had remained entirely quiet and hollow-eyed throughout the entire duration of the meeting.
Once the heavy footsteps faded and the gigantic doors groaned shut, leaving the hall completely empty, Lorriel descended from her capsule.
She walked over to where Toreth was leaning, her footsteps echoing softly against the metal floor.
"How are you doing these days?" she asked softly, her eyes scanning his face.
Toreth offered a small, casual smile, shifting his weight against the wall.
"Good enough, I suppose."
Lorriel stepped closer, reaching up and gently placing her hand on top of his green hair.
"Are you sure?"
Caught completely off guard by the maternal gesture, Toreth burst into a sudden fit of laughter, shaking his head.
"Don't tell me you're actually worried about me?"
Lorriel didn't drop her hand, her expression entirely serious.
"When was I not?"
Toreth's laughter died down, replaced by a soft, genuine smile.
He looked at her, his posture relaxing completely.
"Fair enough. But... I'm carrying a very hard burden right now, sis."
Lorriel nodded slowly, her eyes softening.
"I know. I understand."
Toreth chuckled, a teasing glint returning to his eyes.
"Is that so... little sister?"
"Little sister?"
Lorriel asked, her eyebrow snapping upward in immediate irritation as she pulled her hand back.
Toreth laughed out loud, leaning back against the wall.
"You used to be a decade older than me, but due to the time capsule... I'm technically older than you now."
Lorriel couldn't help but smile, a fond, exasperated expression crossing her face.
"Older, perhaps, but not even slightly more mature. You're still the exact same careless child."
Toreth let out a dramatic sigh, looking up at the ceiling.
"Guess I can never truly grow up for you."
Lorriel's smile faded into a quiet, intense gaze.
"Don't die before me, alright?"
Toreth immediately shook his head, waving his hand dismissively.
"I'm not dying anywhere anytime soon. I haven't even gotten married yet! And the way things are currently going inside that capsule, I might have to resort to marrying nuts and bolts."
Lorriel blinked, her expression instantly twisting into utter bewilderment.
"You're saying you're gonna impregnate metal?"
"Huh???"
Toreth's head snapped toward her, his face turning slightly red as he threw his hands up in defense.
"I never said that! I said it metaphorically! META-PHOR-I-CAL-LY! I am going to marry a hot woman!"
Lorriel let out a genuine, amused smile, shaking her head at his antics.
"It's good to see that you aren't completely gone yet."
Toreth adjusted his jacket, his smile softening into something steady and reassuring.
"I'm still me, sis."
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