Chapter 54
Across planets—
Angelic soldiers turned to ash.
White bodies unraveling.
Spiraling upward.
Even the ones fighting the Council—
gone.
They hadn't even reached a decisive exchange.
The universe deleted them first.
Sky cracked.
Not metaphor.
Reality split like glass.
Planets blinked out.
Galaxies erased mid-rotation.
Universe 060 began collapsing inward—
not exploding.
Unwriting.
Living beings vanished one after another.
No screams.
No residue.
Only clothes falling where bodies had stood.
Magic destabilized.
Spells misfired.
Space bent at wrong angles.
Time skipped frames.
The universe was glitching.
Far beyond the inner systems—
Where infinite galaxies were visible at once—
The Council floated in silence.
Haruto stood at the center.
Three were missing.
Lilith.
Ronóva.
Shirin.
"This is… truly unfortunate," Hrachya said gently, hands folded against her above-average chest.
Felicia exhaled slowly, tension beneath her calm.
"If the Universe Core continues degrading, this escalates."
"Until there is nothing left," Chatzkel said flatly.
Haruto listened.
Silent.
Calculating.
Felicia turned toward him, one hand resting on her narrow waist.
"And you," she said softly, eyes steady,
"Leader of the Council—have a solution?"
Haruto didn't answer immediately.
That silence—
Pressed on them.
If he couldn't fix this—
No one could.
He was the strongest.
The sharpest mind among them.
Haruto looked up.
Eyes focused.
"I do," he said.
Hope flickered across their faces.
"I've reviewed every outcome," Haruto continued.
"There is only one path that saves everyone."
A pause.
"It requires my life."
Shock.
Immediate.
Hrachya's head shook faintly.
"…Don't tell me."
Her voice thinned.
"You plan to replace the damaged Universe Core… with yourself."
Haruto tilted his head slightly.
A soft smile.
"That's the plan."
"Impossible," Chatzkel snapped, stepping forward, arm extending out.
"You know what that means."
His jaw tightened.
"You lose your individuality.
Your body dies.
Your identity dissolves.
Your consciousness fades."
"I know," Haruto said calmly.
"But I'm the only one who can do it."
"For the sake of every life in Universe 060."
Chatzkel's fists trembled.
"Why you?" he demanded.
"We were supposed to grow stronger together."
Felicia spoke before Haruto could.
"The Universe Core operates on conceptual magnitude," she said evenly.
"A complete existential sacrifice equals the required output."
Her eyes did not waver.
"One cannot repair the Core.
One must replace it."
Silence fell.
Chatzkel and Hrachya felt it then—
the weight of truth.
Haruto already knew.
(Sharp mind…) Haruto thought briefly, glancing at Felicia.
(The Tenebryn were the first species here. Of course they know forbidden theory.)
Hrachya stepped forward slightly.
"There must be others," she said softly.
"Countless beings across existence."
Haruto shook his head.
"The Core's output can erase multiple universes," he replied.
"It is more fragile than it appears."
His gaze sharpened.
"Only beings with Conceptual Souls can withstand integration without instant disintegration."
Silence again.
They understood.
None of them qualified.
(Good thing I kept my subordinates unaware…) Haruto thought faintly, an edge of humor beneath it.
(They'd have tied me down by now.)
Felicia looked at him.
"Your sacrifice will be remembered across eternity," she said.
Her body began fading—
Deleted across time.
Erased from memory.
Gone.
Only Haruto, Chatzkel, and Hrachya still remembered her.
Chatzkel looked at Haruto.
A proud smile.
If time had allowed—
They might have been true brothers.
"Stand proud, Haruto," Chatzkel said.
"You are the strongest."
He vanished.
Hrachya's gentle eyes met Haruto's.
"You are a true hero," she said softly.
"Not for destroying evil—
but for protecting life."
She faded next.
Haruto remained alone.
The cracking Core trembled
"You don't need to worry," Haruto said quietly.
Calm.
Certain.
"I'll bring you all back."
Haruto was pulled.
No wind.
No force.
Just—
Descent.
Not movement through space.
Movement through authority.
The Universe Core was not located somewhere.
You did not travel to it.
You were drawn.
Darkness swallowed everything.
Then—
A blinding surge rushed toward him.
Not light.
Judgment.
The Core's defense.
Anything that entered without qualification would be erased instantly—
even beings capable of destroying universes.
The radiance struck Haruto.
It passed through him.
No burn.
No wound.
He continued descending.
No up.
No down.
No time.
No space.
Only the Core.
A golden sphere.
Cracked.
"Huh…" Haruto murmured softly.
"So it really isn't physical."
His eyes narrowed at the fracture spreading across its surface.
(What a boring way to die.)
He smiled faintly.
(I thought I'd live past twenty… guess I won't even see nineteen.)
Strangely—
He felt light.
Maybe it was the thought of seeing his mother.
His sister.
He exhaled softly.
He knew better.
He had killed billions.
No heaven would accept him.
That didn't bother him.
Not even slightly.
Haruto spread his arms.
In existing time—
His body dissolved.
Not into ash.
Into shimmering particles.
Conceptual fragments.
They flowed into the Core.
The golden sphere shrank slightly.
A straight white beam pierced outward from its center.
Silence.
Then—
The sphere stabilized.
Cracks sealed.
Its glow deepened.
The Universe Core had been replaced.
Which meant—
Haruto Satoru was dead.
His consciousness floated in darkness.
Heavy.
Like the deepest ocean trench.
Even that awareness began fading.
"Mother…" Haruto whispered faintly.
"…are you proud of me?"
No answer.
His concept dissolved.
His soul extinguished.
His consciousness faded.
Gone.
No afterlife waited.
Across Universe 060—
Deleted beings reappeared.
Exactly where they once stood.
Mid-step.
Mid-breath.
Confusion spread instantly.
On battlefields—
The sky cleared.
No cracks.
No distortion.
Sunlight reflected off polished armor as if war had never happened.
Chatzkel's eyes snapped open.
He stood on the balcony of his crimson castle.
Wind brushed his face.
He looked around.
Alive.
Understanding settled in.
"…Haruto," Chatzkel muttered.
A sharp, proud grin formed.
"You damn dog… you actually did it."
Felicia gasped softly.
She stood before a massive window.
Endless skyscrapers stretched beneath a perpetual night sky.
Her home planet.
Her hand lifted slowly.
"I'm… back," she whispered.
Shock trembled in her voice.
Hrachya blinked awake in a royal garden.
Clear sky.
Soft breeze.
A grand castle before her.
She smiled gently and looked upward.
(I will pray for you.)
Gratitude filled them.
Pride.
Relief.
But not everyone accepted it.
Across Haruto's nation—
His subordinates froze.
A hollow absence spread through their bonds.
Their lord—
Was gone.
Spiders dropped to their knees.
Some trembled.
Some wept openly.
For them—
Losing him was losing a god.
Fuyume staggered back.
Fox ears lowering.
"M–My lord…" she whispered, eyes wide.
Her voice cracked.
"How… how could you…"
Weeks before the war.
Before it earned its name—
The War of Elapsed.
A giant cherry blossom tree stood on a high cliff.
Grass impossibly green.
Sky wide.
Wind clean.
Haruto's favorite place in the entire nation.
He stood beneath the tree.
Hands behind his back.
Posture straight.
"I've seen infinite possible futures," Haruto said quietly.
"Only one saves everyone."
The wind moved through the branches.
Petals lifted.
Spiraled.
A soft gust passed him, brushing his bangs aside.
It revealed his eyes.
Not cold.
Soft.
Liora stood a few steps away.
Tears rolled down her flushed cheeks.
Silent at first.
She tried to wipe them away.
They didn't stop.
Haruto stepped forward.
Each step sank lightly into the grass.
He stopped in front of her.
One hand rose—
rested behind her head.
He pulled her gently into his chest.
"Liora," Haruto said softly.
"You're my favorite."
A pause.
"Don't ever forget that."
His voice was steady.
But thinner than usual.
He was holding himself together.
Liora broke.
Her cry deepened.
Shoulders shaking against him.
She already knew.
He had told her the outcome.
Told her his end—
Before it happened.
Haruto closed his eyes briefly.
(I'll explain the full plan next time.)
His hand tightened slightly in her hair.
(For now… this is enough.)
Petals drifted around them.
(I thought about telling her to keep the others away from the main battlefield.)
His gaze shifted toward the horizon.
(So they wouldn't interfere with the sacrifice.)
The wind grew stronger.
And Haruto stood there—
Memorizing the warmth he would soon abandon.
Back to the present.
Prime Continuum.
Lilith stood alone.
"So… this is what you chose," Lilith said quietly.
Her eyes softened.
Not weak.
Just heavy.
The barrier Axiom had placed over Universe 060 shattered.
It broke without resistance.
Lilith stepped through instantly.
The moment she entered—
She felt it.
Silence.
The war was over.
The distortions were gone.
And Haruto's presence—
Erased.
Across the arrow of time.
Her breath caught.
(How useless can I be…)
Lilith thought, disgust curling inward.
(I asked for his help… I yet protected nothing.)
Her gaze darkened.
She descended into the outer galaxy.
Between galaxies.
Stars scattered like distant embers.
Her hands slowly tightened into fists.
Her expression sharpened.
"From today onward," Lilith said under her breath.
Calm.
Absolute.
"No one dies."
A faint pulse of power rippled outward.
"Anyone who threatens them…"
Her eyes lost their softness.
"…will be disintegrated."
No anger.
No hesitation.
Lilith vanished into the darkness between galaxies.
And the Prime Continuum grew quieter.
In the Valecyne Empire.
The main capital.
Light flooded the city.
Gold against the night sky.
Too bright. Too warm. Too false.
High above—
Vhalzareth hovered.
Demonic wings beat slowly behind him.
Each flap deliberate.
Each motion heavy.
Below, the streets breathed.
Laughter spilled between buildings.
Couples walked hand in hand.
Merchants called out.
Children ran.
Peaceful.
On the surface.
Behind the curtains—
A dark alley.
A beautiful woman slammed against cold stone.
Fabric tore.
Ripped apart in frantic, violent hands.
She shoved at them.
Fingers trembling.
Breath breaking.
"Stop—!" she choked, her voice splintering as she clawed at a man's chest. "Please—!"
Ten men surrounded her.
They laughed.
Her clothes shredded further.
Skin exposed to the night air.
She tried to cover herself.
Arms crossing.
Body folding inward.
People passed the alley mouth.
They heard her.
They saw the movement.
They kept walking.
Eyes forward.
Steps steady.
Silence louder than her screams.
The ten men suddenly froze.
All at once.
Grins stiffening.
The woman collapsed to her knees, shaking, dragging torn fabric over her chest.
Her breath hitched.
Her eyes darted.
A knight stood at the alley entrance.
Full silver armor.
White trim.
Immaculate.
His gaze fell on her.
She looked up, hope flickering through tears.
"Please…" she whispered, voice raw.
The knight's visor tilted slightly.
A pause.
Then he turned.
Steel boots echoed against stone as he walked away.
No rush.
No hesitation.
He had the power.
He chose not to use it.
The men exchanged looks.
Then they grinned wider.
One of them grabbed her.
Bent her over a pile of boxes.
Rough hands forcing her down.
She gasped.
Fingers clawing at wood.
Splinters biting into skin.
He yanked his pants down.
Loosened his belt with a slow, ugly smirk.
"You should've stayed quiet," he muttered, breath hot against her ear.
Above—
Vhalzareth looked down.
Silence.
Then up.
His eyes burned red.
Not metaphor.
Red.
Jaw tightened.
Mouth carved downward in fury.
"Expensive Sun," Vhalzareth said, voice low and shaking with restrained wrath.
A miniature sun ignited in the center of the capital.
No warning.
Just light.
Blinding.
People turned toward it in confusion.
Then horror.
Skin blistered.
Flesh melted.
Bodies stripped to bone—
Skeletons stood for a breath.
Then ash.
The city screamed.
Crowds ran.
Pushed.
Trampled.
The sun grew.
Heat swallowed streets.
Walls ignited.
Air itself burned.
Within tens of thousands of kilometers—
Everything turned to ash.
Their screams met silence.
The same silence they had given her.
The sun engulfed the capital entirely.
Beautiful houses—gone.
The grand castle—gone.
Luxury towers—gone.
Billions of lives—erased in minutes.
A burning field remained.
Then—
The sun shrank.
Collapsed inward.
Nothing.
Vhalzareth descended.
Blackened earth cracked beneath his feet.
He fell to his knees.
Hands digging into scorched soil.
His wings burned away.
Feathers turning to cinders.
"ARRHHHH!!!" Vhalzareth screamed, voice tearing apart the dead air.
Pain twisted his face.
Not from the fire.
From realization.
His Lord.
His God.
Gone.
No return.
Across the giant plane—
Five more miniature suns ignited.
One above each country under the Valecyne Empire.
Five in total.
Vhalzareth rose slowly, tears evaporating before they fell.
He burned them.
All five.
In less than a minute.
Releasing grief.
Releasing fury.
Releasing everything.
Elsewhere—
Selene paused mid-swing in the garden.
Wooden sword hovering in air.
Eyes narrowing at the sky.
"…What is that?" she murmured, grip tightening unconsciously.
Inside his castle, Maeltharion stepped toward the window.
Eyes widening.
"…Impossible," he breathed, fingers pressing against the glass.
Every soul on the planet saw them.
No obstruction.
No cloud.
No distance.
The suns grew—
Then vanished instantly.
No fade.
Just gone.
Shock layered upon confusion.
The world held its breath.
In another chamber—
Ronóva lay across a queen-sized bed.
Sheets smooth.
Room elegant.
Golden light flooding through the windows moments earlier.
The sudden dimming left shadows crawling along the walls.
Her eyes opened slowly.
Unhurried.
She blinked once.
Twice.
Adjusting to the violent rise and fall of brightness.
How did I get here…? Ronóva said softly, her voice thin against the quiet.
The blanket slid from her shoulders.
Cold air kissed bare skin.
She pushed herself upright.
Unsteady.
Her fingers brushed her temple.
A faint crease formed between her brows.
Her eyes shifted.
A round table.
In the corner.
Still. Waiting.
A letter rested on it.
Ronóva stood.
Slow steps.
Measured.
Controlled.
She sat in the chair before the table.
The wood creaked softly beneath her weight.
Her fingers reached out.
Paused.
Then took the envelope.
"From whom…?" Ronóva said quietly.
She opened it with deliberate care.
A slight narrowing of her eyes.
Not emotion.
Calculation.
She unfolded the paper.
Her gaze scanned the first line.
And froze.
Her pupils widened—just slightly.
Her breathing thinned.
The letter read:
Sorry about this informal way of contacting you, Ronóva. I hope you'll forgive me just this once.
I wanted to tell you that I truly loved you, Ronóva. Do not think my absence means I abandoned you.
By the time you find this letter, I will probably be gone. Simply put—I died.
Even so, I will try my best to return to you. Just wait a little longer for me.
From: Haruto Satoru
Silence.
The paper trembled in her hands.
Barely visible.
But it trembled.
A tear slipped down.
Then another.
They struck the ink.
Stained it.
The sound came sharp—
She slammed the paper onto the table.
"Idiot," Ronóva said.
Her voice shook once.
Only once.
She lowered her forehead onto the wood.
Eyes shut tight.
"Idiot… Idiot… Idiot."
Each word softer.
Heavier.
The room did not answer.
It only listened.
Ronóva's fingers curled against the table's edge.
Her breathing uneven.
Mind racing.
Breaking it down.
Dissecting it.
Understanding it.
Died.
Return.
Wait.
Her jaw tightened.
Slowly—
She lifted her head.
Tears remained at the corner of her eyes.
She wiped them away with the back of her hand.
No hesitation.
She raised both hands.
Clapped her cheeks softly.
Once.
Twice.
Her gaze steadied.
"Alright then. I'll wait," Ronóva said.
Her voice was calm now.
Flat.
Certain.
No argument in it.
No plea.
Deep within her chest—
She believed.
He would return.
Ronóva placed both palms against the table.
Pushed herself upright.
The chair scraped backward.
She folded the letter carefully.
Precise movements.
No trembling now.
She opened the drawer.
Placed Haruto's letter inside.
Closed it gently.
For Ronóva, Haruto's death hurt more than anything words could contain.
It carved deep.
Quietly.
She was not someone who spilled her heart outward.
She never had been.
She carried it inside.
Locked.
Contained.
That was her way.