February 5th, 7:30 AM.
Alma stood in the kitchen quietly preparing breakfast for Max, who had once again fallen asleep at his desk instead of in his bed, his head resting beside scattered notes, tools, and half-finished blueprints. The apartment was still dim with the softness of early morning, the only sounds being the faint crackling of the pan and the occasional scratching of Max shifting unconsciously in his sleep. Jasmine, meanwhile, remained asleep in her bed, undisturbed by the activity beyond the immediate vicinity.
Alma had warned Max countless times already that repeatedly going nights without proper sleep would eventually destroy his body, but the boy never listened. Every warning seemed to bounce right off him the moment he became consumed by whatever project currently occupied his mind.
And this project, above all the others, appeared to be the most important one yet.
At first, Max had attempted to keep it hidden, treating it like some classified operation only he could know about, but the apartment was far too cramped for any real secrecy to survive. Alma had figured out almost immediately that Max was working on something major, especially because the excitement radiating from him completely outweighed the common sense needed to wait until he could properly hide it.
Still, progress came slowly.
The project required materials so specific that even obtaining a fraction of them was difficult, and Max refused to cut corners no matter how inconvenient things became. He did not want to hand Alma something incomplete, rushed, or flawed. If he was going to make something for his father, then he intended to give it everything he had, even if that meant sacrificing sleep, comfort, and far too much of his own well-being.
Alma eventually sat down at the kitchen table with his own breakfast, eating in silence while occasionally taking slow sips from a cup of coffee. His thoughts drifted constantly toward Montana and Ora, both of whom were somewhere inside the Ruin Zone at that very moment, and the idea unsettled him far more than he wanted to admit.
He barely knew Ora beyond the title of Cerberus Monarch. In fact, he was fairly certain they had only met once or twice before. Outside of his position and reputation, Alma knew almost nothing about him as a person.
Montana, however, was different.
He would not quite call her a friend, but she existed somewhere beyond the cold distance of simple coworkers or acquaintances. There was at least some degree of familiarity between them, enough for concern to feel personal rather than professional.
That thought led Alma into another realization entirely.
Other than Emmanuel… who among the Monarchs did he actually know?
Weston was immediately crossed off in his mind. The last meaningful interaction between them ended with Weston terrified of him, and the memory still lingered unpleasantly in Alma's thoughts. Amelia, meanwhile, had only really spoken to him during his inauguration as the Dragon Monarch, though she had seemed kind enough, easygoing enough, perhaps even someone worth getting to know someday.
Anastasia was harder to understand.
Whenever she looked at him, there always seemed to be something strange hidden in her expression, something almost embarrassed or awkward, as though she wanted to say something but never committed to it. Still, one thing Alma remembered clearly about her was her beauty—not because it was the only thing he noticed, but because it felt like the aspect of herself she intentionally projected most strongly to everyone around her.
And then there was Tanner.
Out of every Monarch, Tanner was the one Alma knew the least. The man kept almost entirely to himself whenever Alma was involved, and since the inauguration, Alma could not remember seeing him even once.
8:00 AM.
By the time the dishes had been washed and put away, Alma had settled onto the couch in silence, leaning back while his thoughts drifted aimlessly through his mind. He avoided turning on the television, unwilling to risk waking Jasmine with the noise, though even without the distraction of the news, his thoughts remained heavy.
Jasmine herself was one of his greatest concerns.
The power sleeping inside her was growing at an alarming rate, and what made it worse was the knowledge she had shared with him before—the existence of the Reality Being.
Alma had confidently declared that he would destroy it if it ever escaped her body, and he truly believed he could. Doubt had never once entered his mind regarding that outcome. But the problem was not defeating it.
The problem was what defeating it would mean.
If the Reality Being emerged, Jasmine might die alongside it. And if he failed… then perhaps the world itself would follow.
That possibility lingered over him constantly.
He needed to figure out how to properly control the powers tied to Liminal Bonds, yet he had no idea where to even begin. Ardath should have been the answer, but despite the White Void being a realm shared between the two of them, Alma still could not access it whenever he wanted. And Max, despite his brilliance, was too consumed by his own work to notice how heavily everything weighed upon the apartment around him.
Alma glanced toward the sleeping boy again.
Max should have been outside playing games with children his age, laughing, causing trouble, living normally. Instead, he buried himself beneath impossible projects and sleepless nights.
As the minutes passed, Alma's leg began bouncing restlessly against the floor, an anxious energy steadily building within him until he finally stood up abruptly. The clock hanging nearby read 8:07 AM.
He walked over toward Max and gently rested a hand against the desk.
"Hey," Alma said quietly, earning a tired glance from the boy. "I'm heading out for a little while, okay? Watch your sister for me, and keep the house safe while I'm gone. Got it?"
Max simply nodded.
Alma smiled faintly at the response before raising his hands and forming the hand sign for Endless Labyrinth. In the next instant, his body disappeared completely from the apartment.
He reappeared high in the skies near the northernmost edge of Canada, directly before the colossal wall surrounding the Ruin Zone.
It stretched endlessly in both directions, a dark and nearly solid mass that looked less like fog and more like reality itself had been stained black. Even seeing through it was difficult. The wall radiated menace through appearance alone, yet strangely enough, Alma could feel absolutely nothing from it.
No power.
No danger.
No hostility.
Nothing.
His eyes narrowed slightly.
Then Alma stepped forward and drove both hands into the wall itself, gripping the Ruin with his bare hands before pulling outward. The dark mass split apart with unnatural ease, separating like torn fabric as he forced an opening large enough to pass through.
The Ruin did not affect him in the slightest.
No symptoms appeared.
No corruption spread.
Nothing existed that could disprove his immunity.
Alma flew through the opening and traveled several miles deeper into the Ruin Zone, his eyes scanning the bizarre landscape around him with growing fascination and confusion. The place felt wrong in a way he could not properly describe, alien despite still technically being Earth.
Then he stopped.
Far ahead, four enormous shapes soared through the sky toward him, each one easily the size of a building.
EF-5 Beasts of Ruin.
Alma casually slid both hands into his pockets as he hovered there, watching them approach while wondering if they would simply pass by him.
They did not.
The moment they noticed him, every single Beast accelerated violently, screeching as they charged straight toward him with terrifying speed.
Alma slowly raised one hand between all four of them and focused intently, his eyes closing as even his breathing seemed to disappear.
"Spear," he said quietly.
A point of energy formed before him, rapidly growing larger before abruptly shrinking again at the very last moment, shooting harmlessly between the Beasts without striking any of them.
Alma stared silently.
'It seems I'm not there yet…' he thought.
He extended his arm lazily to the side.
"The False Temptation: Mirage."
Twelve identical clones of Alma instantly appeared around him.
"The False Touch: Withering Grace."
A dark black mist spread across his body.
"Alright, throw me!" he shouted.
The clones immediately grabbed different parts of his body before pulling back and hurling him forward like a projectile.
Alma rocketed through the sky and slammed directly into one of the EF-5s, killing it instantly as his body tore straight through it, though he narrowly missed the second Beast flying behind it.
"Oops," Alma muttered casually.
Invisible wings manifested behind him and halted his momentum abruptly before he redirected himself and flew toward the Beast he had missed earlier. He drove his fist into its body with overwhelming force, sending the creature crashing violently toward the ground below.
The remaining two EF-5s attacked immediately afterward, both charging him head-on with massive jaws opened wide as horrifying screeches tore through the sky.
Alma calmly raised his hand toward one of them.
"Spear."
The attack fired instantly, piercing directly through the Beast and killing it without resistance.
The final creature continued charging regardless.
Alma pulled back his fist and waited patiently until the perfect moment before driving it forward into the Beast's face, blasting a massive hole clean through its skull.
The corpse spiraled lifelessly through the air.
Alma then glanced downward toward the recovering Beast he had punched earlier before suddenly diving after it at tremendous speed, slamming into its body hard enough to create a massive explosion of debris upon impact.
Moments later, silence returned.
Four EF-5 Beasts of Ruin had been effortlessly exterminated.
Alma slowly stood upright within the crater, dusting dirt and debris from his clothes with mild annoyance before suddenly pausing.
He felt something.
A strange surge of power pulsed somewhere deeper within the Ruin Zone, carrying similarities to the energy sleeping inside Jasmine, though far weaker and fundamentally different at the same time.
Perhaps becoming the Dragon Monarch was what allowed him to sense something like this at all.
Without another word, Alma rose back into the air, both hands returning to his pockets as he calmly flew toward the source of that mysterious power.
As Alma descended through the skies of the Ruin Zone, the battered and exhausted forms of the Cerberus and Cetus Monarchs gradually came into view beneath him, along with two unfamiliar figures standing not far away from them, both radiating a presence unlike anything he had previously encountered among ordinary humans.
His eyes narrowed slightly.
Alma activated Evil Eyes, his gaze locking intensely onto the two strangers as his perception pierced beyond the surface of their existence and directly into the composition of their souls. Almost immediately, he noticed something deeply unusual about them. Both individuals existed entirely on a spiritual level, yet the woman possessed a fully physical body despite that fact, a contradiction that immediately caught his attention.
His vision sharpened further.
He began to see fragments of their abilities unfolding before him, from Cannon's Six-Cylinder to Chelsea's Mystic Presence, each technique layered with complexity and structure that extended far deeper than what first appeared on the surface. Yet despite the clarity of Evil Eyes, Alma could tell there was still more hidden beneath what he could currently perceive.
His understanding was incomplete.
So, after a moment of hesitation, Alma activated Eyes of Despair.
The shift in perception was immediate and overwhelming.
It was a step below the true perception granted by the Second Circle, yet even that diminished state far surpassed what Evil Eyes alone could achieve. Still, Alma disliked relying on anything connected to the Second Circle. Much like when he had first used Endless Labyrinth, there remained an instinctive discomfort within him whenever he touched powers related to that place.
Immediately, the inner workings of every soul before him became visible with astonishing clarity.
Cannon's soul unfolded entirely before Alma's eyes, each aspect of Six-Cylinder revealing itself one after another with frightening detail, while Chelsea's Mystic Presence exposed all of its layers and hidden mechanics as well. Even Ora and Montana became visible beneath his perception, though their souls remained slightly blurred compared to the Humans of Ruin.
Alma gave a faint nod of approval.
'That Devastation would be difficult for even me to deal with,' he thought as he studied Cannon's abilities carefully. 'I wonder if Shield could block it, considering it bypasses physical durability entirely.'
His thoughts drifted briefly toward Graviel and Thronefield.
'Looking back now with my current level of insight… that technique was monstrously powerful on a purely physical scale. Does Shield even possess something equivalent to durability? Or does it simply exist whenever I invoke it, unaffected by ordinary concepts altogether?'
His attention then shifted fully toward Chelsea.
'And this woman…' Alma thought quietly as his gaze scanned through every layer of her being. 'They are unquestionably Humans of Ruin, both of them. But she possesses a genuine human body. Did she steal someone else's body… or did she create one herself?'
His eyes traced the flow of Mystic Presence through her existence.
'She also possesses a technique similar to Mirage. Interesting. Though unlike my clones, hers cannot physically attack an opponent directly.' A faint smile tugged at the corner of his mouth. 'Still… they can utilize her techniques in limited ways. Ghost-like would probably be the best description.'
Alma's gaze drifted toward Montana and Ora once more.
'Neither of them have developed a truly acute understanding of their souls yet, unlike these Humans of Ruin,' he observed silently. 'But they are getting close. Very close.'
He continued studying them.
'Neither one possesses a proper connection between soul and body yet. Humans of Ruin and even Beasts of Ruin develop that relationship naturally, because the only thing they truly are is their soul itself.'
A faint smirk appeared across his face.
'What an incredible set of abilities. They still have so much room to grow… so much to learn and endure.' His expression softened slightly. 'Maybe… one day… they will even surpass me.'
Because Eyes of Despair accelerated Alma's perception of time, the countless thoughts racing through his mind occurred within what was, to everyone else, essentially a single instant.
And in that exact same instant, all four individuals below realized his presence.
Cannon, Chelsea, Ora, and Montana all looked upward simultaneously, their jaws slackening and their eyes widening with overwhelming disbelief. The Humans of Ruin trembled visibly beneath the sheer pressure of his presence, awe and terror mixing together as the vast disparity between their strengths became painfully obvious, while the two Monarchs stared upward in complete shock tinged with faint fear.
'He isn't being affected by the Ruin…?' Montana and Chelsea thought simultaneously.
'What a… monster,' Ora thought silently.
'I don't think even with these Monarchs helping us… we could defeat that thing,' Cannon realized, his body shaking even harder than Chelsea's as a fearful smirk forced its way onto his face.
Then Alma's eyes suddenly shifted.
Chelsea had moved.
In an instant, Conjuring Extras activated, and nearly a thousand clones manifested around the Humans of Ruin while an additional layer of distorted reality wrapped itself around them, the space turning gray as it hurriedly carried both Cannon and Chelsea deeper into the Ruin Zone before disappearing completely.
Alma stared forward with narrowed eyes.
'That just now was…'
His expression sharpened briefly before he finally deactivated Eyes of Despair and descended calmly toward the Monarchs below, landing lightly before them with an easy, approachable smile that felt impossibly disconnected from the terrifying presence they had sensed moments earlier.
"Hey, you two," Alma said casually as he patted Ora on the shoulder, "Emmanuel asked me to keep an eye on you while you were inside the Ruin Zone."
Neither Ora nor Montana responded immediately.
Ora stood completely frozen, unable to process what had just happened, while Montana stared in equal silence. That monstrous presence, so suffocatingly evil and yet strangely sorrowful at the same time, had vanished so suddenly that neither of them could fully comprehend it.
After several moments of silence, Ora finally spoke.
"What… are you?" he asked quietly.
Alma blinked in confusion before letting out a small chuckle.
"I'm not really sure what you mean," he replied with a bright smile. "I'm Alma Alastor, of course. The one and only."
Neither Monarch looked reassured.
"Come on," Alma continued, still smiling as though nothing strange had happened at all. "Let's get you both out of here. You two look terrible, and honestly, you could really use a break."
Without waiting for permission, Alma grabbed both of them by the collars of their shirts before flying away and out of the Ruin Zone.
The three vanished instantly.
Moments later, they reappeared directly inside the Oval Office.
The sudden arrival startled Emmanuel along with every member of security present inside the room.
"Woah—! Montana! Ora! What happened?!" Emmanuel exclaimed as he rushed toward them and crouched beside their weakened forms.
"They were nearly killed by two Humans of Ruin," Alma answered calmly.
Emmanuel stared up at him in disbelief.
"Two?" he repeated slowly, almost sounding as though he desperately wanted Alma to be joking. "Are you absolutely certain? There weren't more than that?"
"I'm afraid not," Alma replied. "I arrived pretty late, otherwise they'd both be in much better shape. Though I will say…" His expression grew slightly more interested. "Those Humans of Ruin had some genuinely fascinating techniques."
"Techniques?" Emmanuel repeated immediately, his attention sharpening. "You actually saw them fight? Then you need to tell me everything after we get these two stabilized."
He quickly turned toward his desk and pressed one of the phone buttons.
"Get a medical team in here immediately," Emmanuel ordered urgently. "Montana and Ora are critically injured."
As he turned back toward the Monarchs, his expression shifted slightly.
"Why aren't they speaking?" he asked cautiously while looking up at Alma. "They almost seem… paralyzed. Is that the effect of one of the Humans of Ruin?"
"No," Alma answered simply. "That would be me."
Emmanuel frowned in confusion.
"What do you mean by that?"
"The reason I was able to analyze the Humans of Ruin's techniques was because of my eyes," Alma explained calmly. "Think of it like putting on a pair of glasses or sunglasses. They enhance my perception of the soul to the point where, if someone possesses enough connection to their soul, I can see aspects of their abilities."
He paused briefly.
"Apparently those eyes possess secondary effects I wasn't fully aware of," he admitted. "And whatever those effects are… they must have overwhelmed these two pretty badly."
Yet even as he explained himself, another thought immediately surfaced within Alma's mind.
'But that still doesn't explain Weston,' he realized silently. 'Back then I wasn't even using Eyes of Despair. I only had Black Eyes active for convenience.'
His thoughts deepened.
'Was Weston simply weaker? No… that doesn't fully make sense. Amelia never reacted like that either.' Alma's eyes narrowed slightly. 'Maybe those three are unusually sensitive to soul-based phenomena. It isn't impossible… but I don't think Ora or Montana fit that category naturally.'
"That is… quite a lot to process," Emmanuel admitted slowly before exhaling. "Regardless, I'll make sure these two receive the best treatment possible."
Almost immediately afterward, four members of a medical team rushed into the Oval Office carrying stretchers, quickly moving toward Ora and Montana before carefully loading both injured Monarchs onto them.
"Contact Amelia Spring as well," Emmanuel ordered firmly as the team prepared to leave. "I want her here within the hour to heal them completely."
All four medical personnel nodded immediately before rushing out of the room with the injured Monarchs.
'Seeing people like Ora and Montana, individuals capable of single-handedly overthrowing entire countries, being carried away on stretchers like ordinary people is... strangely comforting.' Alma, thought. 'But I can't understand why. Perhaps it's because moments like this stripped away the terrifying weight of their titles and reminded me that, beneath all that overwhelming power, they are still human.' Alma thought quietly to himself.
"Ora will recover with a little rest," Emmanuel said as he lowered himself back into the chair behind his desk, exhaustion visible beneath his composed expression. "It's Montana that concerns me. She doesn't possess a healing factor like Ora or Amelia does, and while her resilience is impressive, resilience alone can only carry a person so far."
Alma gave a small nod before walking over and seating himself on one of the couches positioned across from the desk, crossing one leg over the other as he leaned back slightly. "So you want to hear about the abilities those Humans of Ruin used?" he asked, already knowing the answer before Emmanuel responded.
Emmanuel nodded immediately. "Every detail you can remember."
"Well," Alma began, folding his hands together loosely, "we should probably start with the cowboy-looking one."
The description earned him a confused look almost instantly.
"Cowboy?" Emmanuel repeated, one eyebrow raising slightly.
Alma nodded casually before continuing. "Yeah. Definitely had the whole cowboy thing going on. Anyway, his primary technique was called Six-Cylinder..."
---
Ora stood before the three massive gates within his Dimension, though unlike before, his mind did not race to decide which card he would choose, nor did his instincts claw at him to make a decision. Everything felt still, unnaturally still, as though time itself had stopped flowing around him and left him suspended within the emptiness of his own world.
Slowly, Ora turned around, his eyes settling upon the pathway where Cannon had once stood. Even now, the memory of him remained frozen there within the fog, unmoving and distant, as though preserved in the exact instant Ora had been trying to determine how to defeat him.
Then something shifted further ahead.
The movement was faint, nothing more than the subtle parting of the dense fog blanketing the Dimension, yet it drew Ora's attention immediately. And the moment he noticed just how much fog surrounded him, it began to disperse rapidly, rolling away in massive waves and revealing a gigantic gate far beyond where Cannon had stood before.
In front of that gate sat an enormous three-headed dog.
Its body was pitch black, while its crimson eyes glowed ominously within the dimness around it. A faint black mist drifted continuously from its massive frame, curling through the air like smoke escaping from a dying fire. Ora stared at the creature in silence, his body unable to move as his mind slowly processed its existence.
Then the mouth of the center head opened.
Several moments later, a woman stepped into view.
The gigantic beast extended its tongue outward like a bridge, allowing her to walk forward until she stood fully within Ora's sight.
She stopped at the edge of the tongue, gazing down at him with eyes that carried both sternness and warmth at the same time. Her hair was a striking blue, with a single yellow streak falling near the front, while her light-blue eyes possessed a strange depth that Ora found impossible to look away from. Her face was elegant and breathtakingly beautiful, refined in a way that felt almost unreal.
She wore a white tank top that stopped just above her stomach, exposing toned skin beneath it, along with green cargo pants lined with far too many pockets to count, and black combat boots tied with white laces. Her physique was muscular without appearing excessive, balanced perfectly in a way that seemed crafted specifically around Ora's tastes.
But what stood out most to him were the chains hanging from the right side of her belt. One chain extended upward to a piercing attached to the side of her lip, while the other connected to a cuff wrapped around her right wrist.
Ora could not speak.
He had never seen someone so beautiful before in his entire life. Even Anastasia, whom he had once considered unbelievably attractive, seemed incomparable in this moment. And it was not merely her appearance that stunned him. She was fit, confident, intimidating, and somehow strangely comforting all at once. It genuinely felt as though she had been pulled directly from the deepest corners of his own mind and shaped into reality solely for him.
The woman stepped gracefully from the beast's tongue, landing softly upon the ground before beginning to walk toward him.
Ora did not even realize she had moved until she was suddenly standing directly in front of him.
His face reddened immediately, and he instinctively stepped backward once, overwhelmed by her closeness. She smelled wonderful, and from the brief glance he managed to steal toward her exposed skin, it appeared impossibly smooth and flawless.
Then she stepped forward again, gently taking his hand into her own before forcing him to meet her gaze.
"Ora," the woman said softly.
Even the single word sounded pleasant coming from her. Her voice was warm, smooth, and strangely soothing, each syllable carrying an almost hypnotic softness that immediately drew his attention.
"Do you understand what you've just done?" she asked.
Ora, however, barely processed the question itself. His focus lingered entirely on the sound of her voice rather than the meaning behind her words.
"Ora?" she asked again, giving him a small shake. "Did you hear me?"
"Huh? Yeah, yeah..." Ora answered quickly, trying and failing to recover his composure. "Do I know if I burn under the sun? I heard you."
A faint smile spread across her face at the ridiculous response.
"Listen carefully, alright? This is important," she said again, her tone remaining patient.
Ora nodded absentmindedly at first before shaking his head hard enough to clear away the distracting thoughts clouding his focus.
"I understand," he said quickly. "But can I at least know your name first?"
"My name is Leanora," the woman answered calmly. "I am the Cerberus Mythical Beast."
Ora froze.
"The Cerberus Mythical Beast is... a woman?" he asked in disbelief before staring at her again. "And a beautiful one at that."
Leanora smiled softly at the compliment. "Thank you, but no. Not truly. I am not a woman."
Ora blinked several times. "What do you mean you're not a woman? I'm literally looking at you right now. You're obviously a woman."
"This form exists because I created an appearance that would appeal specifically to you," Leanora explained patiently. "In reality, I do not possess a sex."
That only deepened Ora's confusion.
"Wait... seriously? Are all Mythical Beasts like that? And do all of you shape yourselves around your Monarchs?" Ora asked curiously.
"Yes," Leanora answered with a gentle nod. "All Mythical Beasts are genderless by nature, and we always seek to please our Monarchs. Most of us take forms inspired by our Monarch's subconscious desires, though in rarer cases, some simply make educated guesses."
Ora stared at her blankly for a moment before another question surfaced in his mind.
"Then how do Mythical Beasts reproduce if none of you have... you know... the equipment?"
Leanora did not appear embarrassed in the slightest.
"We do not reproduce," she explained calmly. "We were created, and our existence is eternal. We have no need for companionship among our own kind, nor do we seek relationships with each other. The only bond we truly desire is the one we share with our Monarchs. In a sense, every Monarch becomes something akin to a husband or wife to the Mythical Beast they are connected to."
Ora stared at her in stunned silence.
"So you're basically..." he began slowly.
"Yes," Leanora interrupted gently. "Technically, I am your wife now. Though that bond only fully formed a few minutes ago."
Ora's face somehow became even redder. "How?"
"It occurred the moment you obtained your Dimension," Leanora explained. "That stage is known as the Last Stage within a Monarch's evolutionary process. It signifies the complete maturity of the bond between a Monarch and their Mythical Beast. Nothing between us remains hidden anymore."
Ora repeated the words quietly to himself. "The Last Stage..."
Then another thought struck him.
"But if we've been connected this whole time, why didn't you speak to me before now? Why not when I first became a Monarch? Or while I was inside my Dimension fighting?" Ora asked.
"Because when you first became a Monarch, our relationship had only just begun," Leanora answered. "At that point, the closest comparison would have been two complete strangers being suddenly bound together. And the reason I could not speak to you while you were inside your Dimension earlier was because you had entered a special state that only Monarchs who have recently reached the Last Stage are capable of experiencing."
She paused briefly before continuing.
"While you were within that state, your proficiency with our abilities reached its absolute peak. Your focus sharpened beyond normal limits. Your understanding of our bond deepened completely."
Ora stared at her with amazement written plainly across his face.
"That's... actually incredible," he admitted honestly. "But what even was that state? And can I enter it again?"
Leanora nodded slightly. "It does not possess an official name, though the closest comparison humanity has would be what people call Flow State, only vastly superior. As for whether you can return to it..." Her eyes narrowed slightly. "That depends entirely upon you. Is the challenge before you too easy? Or is it impossibly difficult?"
Ora frowned slightly, trying to understand.
"When you fought that Human of Ruin," Leanora continued, "the battle began as something your mind considered far too easy. But by the end, it had become overwhelmingly difficult. That drastic shift, combined with the equally dramatic change in your mindset, forced your consciousness into a state of absolute focus and adaptation. That is what triggered your flow state, and ultimately, what allowed you to awaken your Dimension."
Ora remained silent for several seconds, his thoughts slowly turning over the revelation within his mind before he finally lifted his gaze toward Leanora once again. "I understand that much," he said quietly, though disappointment lingered beneath his voice. "But can I refine my Dimension the same way I refined my other abilities? I mean... this feels like a much bigger step than everything else, even Demon Projection."
Leanora's expression softened faintly, though there was still an undeniable firmness to her gaze as she looked down at him. "Unfortunately, no," she answered. "Once a Monarch obtains their Dimension, its effectiveness can no longer be increased, nor can its power be expanded beyond what it already is. The abilities you awakened before this point possessed room for growth because they were incomplete, still developing alongside your bond with me. A Dimension, however, exists at the very end of that evolution. It is the culmination of everything you and I are capable of together."
Ora listened carefully as the endless fog around them drifted lazily through the silent air of the Dimension, his attention remaining fixed entirely on Leanora now that his thoughts had finally steadied themselves.
"What you possess now," she continued calmly, "is what you will carry until the end of your life as the Cerberus Monarch. There are no further stages after this one."
Ora lowered his eyes slightly at that answer, the disappointment visible across his face before he let out a quiet breath. "I see..." he murmured. "That's honestly pretty disappointing."
Then, after a moment of silence, his expression shifted again as he looked back up at her. "What was it you wanted to ask me earlier?"
---
Montana awoke within a vast ocean whose waters stretched endlessly in every direction, with no land visible for hundreds, perhaps even thousands of miles beneath the gray sky overhead, before her body suddenly rose upward through the surface as though lifted by unseen hands, no longer sinking beneath the water with every passing wave like before.
Then, behind her, a deep rumble rolled across the sea.
Montana turned immediately, her eyes widening as the colossal creature that had questioned her earlier emerged from beneath the surface once more, its monstrous form towering over the endless water with an almost divine presence.
But before she could fully process its appearance, a massive wave surged upward behind it and crashed over its body, swallowing the creature completely beneath an eruption of white foam and roaring water.
When the wave settled, the beast was gone.
In its place stood a man with deeply tanned skin, thick brown hair, and an equally thick beard that framed his face. He was shirtless, revealing a broad and heavily muscular torso, while gray sweatpants hung loosely around his waist above a pair of white sneakers that somehow remained untouched by the ocean beneath him.
Montana immediately looked away, a faint blush creeping across her face as she attempted to direct her thoughts elsewhere, though whether it was out of embarrassment or some strange instinctive respect, even she could not tell.
Yet when she finally glanced back toward him, her entire body stiffened.
The man now stood directly in front of her.
Only then did Montana truly realize how tall he was compared to her, with the top of her forehead barely reaching the center of his chest, and because of how close he suddenly was, she caught his scent clearly for the first time, her mind immediately and involuntarily labeling it as perfect.
Montana stumbled backward almost instantly, creating distance between herself and the man she already felt herself rapidly becoming attracted to.
"W-Who are you?" she asked timidly, her voice lacking nearly all of its usual confidence as she stared up at him shyly.
The man looked at her calmly. "I am the Cetus Mythical Beast."
Montana's eyes widened so violently it almost looked painful. "You're WHAT!?" she shouted, the force of her voice shaking the water beneath their feet and sending ripples racing endlessly across the ocean.
"Indeed," he replied with a relaxed smile. "I am."
"YOU CAN'T JUST—!" Montana stopped herself midway through the outburst, visibly struggling to reorganize her thoughts. "You can't just say something like that so casually! How do I even know you're telling the truth? For all I know, this could just be some weird dream!"
"Well," the man answered smoothly, "touch me. Then you'll know how real I am."
Montana hesitated for several seconds before slowly extending a single finger toward him, gently poking one of his abdominal muscles.
The moment she felt it, her eyes lit up.
A tiny squeal escaped her lips before she immediately placed her entire hand against his torso, rubbing across the defined muscle with shameless fascination, and within seconds her second hand joined the first, followed shortly after by her face as she enthusiastically pressed herself against his abdomen like a child finally getting the exact toy they had begged for their entire life.
The man, however, made no effort to stop her, merely standing there calmly while Montana indulged herself completely.
Eventually, though very reluctantly, she pulled herself away from him, her cheeks burning red as she stared downward in embarrassment.
"Nope..." she muttered weakly. "You're definitely real... or at least your abs are..."
A quiet, slightly creepy laugh escaped her afterward, earning a soft smile from the man.
"I'm glad that you're pleased," he said. "My name is Raine."
Montana immediately smacked herself mentally. "Of course! I forgot to ask your name!" she exclaimed before quickly straightening herself. "I'm Montana Bristol, at your service!"
She extended her hand toward him with a bright smile.
Raine accepted it without hesitation, giving her hand a firm shake.
"So... uh... Raine," Montana began awkwardly as she glanced around at the endless ocean surrounding them, "what exactly is this place? It's kind of just... water. Endless water. Why?"
"Simple," Raine answered. "This is your Dimension."
Montana blinked, then looked around again as realization struck her. "Oh... right. Yeah, that makes sense."
Then her expression shifted again. "But if this is my Dimension... why are we here?"
"Because," Raine replied calmly, "this is my home."
Montana tilted her head in confusion. "Your home?"
"Yes," he answered. "My new home, at least. Even though nothing has truly changed besides the scenery itself, it still feels entirely different to me now."
"Huh..." Montana muttered. "That's... weird. But do you always stay here? In this place?" She looked around again at the endless ocean beneath the dark sky. "Honestly, it feels kind of depressing."
Raine shook his head slightly. "No. This place is my home. To me, there is only joy here."
"I see..." Montana said slowly before glancing back toward him again. "Then why exactly am I here? I'm guessing you didn't bring me here just so I could appreciate those..." Her eyes drifted downward toward his torso again. "...muscles."
Raine smiled softly at first, though the warmth in his expression soon faded into something more serious. "No," he said quietly. "I did not."
His gaze sharpened slightly as he looked directly into her eyes. "I assume you're aware of the Dragon Monarch."
Montana nodded immediately. "Yeah. That presence I felt back in the Ruin Zone..." Her expression darkened slightly as she remembered it. "It was unlike anything I've ever experienced before. Honestly, it was terrifying."
Raine nodded slowly. "That is because you have reached what is known as the Last Stage. It is the final evolution of the bond between a Monarch and their Mythical Beast, and it occurs immediately after the awakening of a Dimension."
"I understand that much," Montana replied. "So Emmanuel reached this stage too, right?"
"He did," Raine confirmed. "And after a Monarch reaches that final evolution, their perception of the soul increases drastically. Mythical Beasts are purely spiritual beings. We possess no true physical bodies, and our bond with Monarchs is formed directly through the soul itself. Because of that, once you reach the Last Stage, you gain the ability to freely perceive us, interact with us, and if your understanding grows enough... interact with souls themselves."
Then he added firmly, "But do not misunderstand. Your Dimension cannot be refined any further. Unlike your other abilities, it has already reached completion."
"Okay..." Montana muttered slowly. "I think I get the general idea. But what does all this have to do with the Dragon Monarch?"
Raine's expression became noticeably heavier at the mention of Alma.
"What you and the Cerberus Monarch experienced," he said carefully, "was something entirely spiritual. A presence that bypassed physical resistance completely and struck directly at the soul itself. That presence could always be felt, but now that both of you have reached the Last Stage, you've become capable of perceiving it fully."
Montana hummed quietly in thought. "That explains why the Humans of Ruin looked so stunned too," she said. "And it probably explains why Ora and I can see Beasts and Humans of Ruin at all."
"Indeed," Raine answered. "Normal humans cannot perceive either. Most would simply die without ever understanding what killed them."
A faint sadness crossed his face as he spoke.
"Still..." Raine continued after a moment, "there is something deeply unusual about the Dragon Monarch. Since the moment of my creation, I have never felt a presence like that one before. Not from any previous Dragon Monarch, nor even from the Dragon Mythical Beast itself."
His gaze lowered slightly.
"It was... more oppressive than even the Cheat Sheet of Immeasurable Abyss."
Montana blinked in confusion. "Wait, there was an actual feeling to it? To me, it just felt overwhelmingly powerful. I thought you said my perception of the soul increased."
"It did," Raine answered calmly. "But perception is not the same thing as understanding. Seeing something does not mean you comprehend it."
Then his eyes narrowed slightly. "Frankly, I'm surprised those Humans of Ruin could even move at all in his presence."
Montana frowned. "What do you mean?"
"They had outside assistance," Raine replied immediately.
"There's more of them?" Montana asked.
"It would seem that way," he answered. "You were too overwhelmed by the Dragon Monarch's presence to notice it, which is understandable, but there was a gray field surrounding the Humans of Ruin as they escaped. The Dragon Monarch appeared to notice it as well."
Raine looked downward briefly, his expression thoughtful.
"His perception may already rival that of the Mythical Beasts themselves."
Then his eyes met Montana's again, his expression suddenly stern.
"Be careful, Montana," he said seriously. "That Monarch is dangerous. At the very least, do not make an enemy of him."
His voice lowered slightly.
"We cannot win against something like that."
Montana slowly nodded, and before she could even gather another thought together, the entire world around her suddenly collapsed into darkness.
"Be careful of the Dragon Monarch, understood?" Ora said cautiously, though uncertainty lingered beneath his voice as he looked toward Leanora through the endless haze of the Dimension. "But... he seemed nice. Even after what I felt back there, he didn't strike me as evil."
Leanora watched him in silence for a moment before finally speaking, her calm expression never wavering. "For one, that happened last week, not today," she replied evenly, "and for two, appearances can be deceiving. You already know that, Ora."
Ora's expression dimmed slightly as his eyes lowered toward the ground beneath him. "Yeah..." he murmured quietly. "I know..."
Then his head snapped upward.
"WAIT, A WEEK!?" he shouted, his voice violently tearing through the endless fog surrounding the Dimension.
And before the realization could even fully settle into his mind, the entire world around him suddenly collapsed inward, the fog, the gates, and even Leanora herself breaking apart like shattered glass before vanishing into darkness.
Ora's eyes fluttered open slowly as he stared upward at a plain white ceiling illuminated by the dull glow of fluorescent lights overhead. A groan escaped him while he pushed himself upright in bed, rubbing at his tired eyes before stretching both arms above his head with a long, heavy yawn that cracked through his chest.
It was, without question, the best sleep he had gotten in months.
Turning slightly to his right, he noticed Montana sitting upright in her own bed nearby, her expression still groggy and unfocused as she slowly adjusted to consciousness.
"Did you also talk with your Mythical Beast?" Ora asked, his voice still rough with exhaustion.
Montana turned toward him before nodding slowly. "Yeah..." she answered quietly. "Did yours also warn you to be careful around the Dragon Monarch?"
Ora nodded in return, though his expression shifted into one of thoughtfulness. "Yeah. But honestly..." He paused briefly, remembering Alma's smile, and the impossible contradiction between that warmth and the suffocating, soul-crushing presence he carried. "I don't think he's what they made him sound like. If anything, I think he's the opposite."
Montana tilted her head slightly. "The opposite?"
"A protector," Ora answered simply.
Montana remained quiet for a few seconds before nodding faintly. "Yeah... I got the same feeling. Still, it probably doesn't hurt to take what they told us with a grain of salt."
"Yeah," Ora replied softly. "I suppose so."
Montana narrowed her eyes at him slightly. "Judging by those incredibly creative responses of yours, I'm guessing you're just as shocked about all this as I am?"
"Yeah."
"Got it."
A long silence settled over the hospital room afterward, stretching quietly between them while only the faint hum of machinery and distant footsteps echoed through the halls beyond the door.
Finally, Montana spoke again. "What should we tell Emmanuel?"
"About Alma or about our Dimensions?" Ora asked.
"Both," she answered.
Ora leaned back slightly against the bed, exhaling through his nose. "We'll probably have to tell him everything. And honestly, since he already has a Dimension of his own, he probably already knows we awakened ours too."
"Probably," Montana admitted. "So there's no point trying to hide it, huh?"
"No," Ora answered immediately. "And even if there was, you wouldn't actually keep it secret anyway."
"Correct," Montana said proudly, a faint smile appearing across her face before she attempted to stand from the bed.
The moment her feet touched the floor, however, her body nearly collapsed beneath her weight. She caught herself quickly against the edge of the bed before slowly forcing herself upright again through visible effort.
Then she glanced toward Ora. "You coming?"
Ora stared at her as though she had personally offended him. "And miss out on this sleep? Absolutely not. I'm always busy, and I've barely been surviving off whatever rest I can get lately."
Montana nodded slowly. "Fair enough. I'm gonna go check on my parents, though. Emmanuel probably already told them what happened." She turned toward the doorway before pausing briefly. "You should go see yours too."
Ora said nothing after that.
He merely lowered his eyes in silence, thinking about the complete absence of family in his life.
He was alone. Entirely alone.
Meanwhile, Montana slowly made her way out of the room, using the wall for support as she moved through the hallway. Every step sent soreness tearing through her exhausted body, forcing her to wince faintly as she pushed herself onward despite the pain.
When she finally rounded the receptionist desk, she was met with the sight of an entire group of military personnel stationed outside her and Ora's rooms, blocking anyone from entering.
"Come on! We're her parents!" a woman shouted desperately. "Can't you at least tell us how she's doing?"
"And where the hell is Emmanuel?" a man demanded angrily. "He said he'd be back ten minutes ago!"
One of the soldiers remained firm despite their frustration. "I'm sorry, sir, ma'am, but we're under strict orders not to allow anyone in or out without President Emmanuel's direct permission."
"But it's been a week since we've seen our daughter!" the woman pleaded, tears beginning to form in her eyes. "Please, you have to let us see her!"
Montana stepped fully around the desk then, entering everyone's view at once.
The four soldiers immediately stiffened in shock, while the man and woman froze completely before rushing toward her without hesitation and wrapping their arms tightly around her body.
"Oh, my poor baby," Montana's mother whispered shakily as she held her daughter close. "We've been worried sick."
"Good to see you standing again, kiddo," her father said, relief washing over his face.
Montana smiled weakly as she leaned almost entirely against them for support. "I'm alright, guys. I promise."
Then she sighed tiredly. "Though... don't let go of me. I can barely walk right now."
Immediately, her father wrapped one of her arms around his neck to support her weight while her mother stepped in on the other side to help stabilize her.
"Wait, the Cetus Monarch cannot be discharged without President Emmanuel's—" one of the soldiers began before Montana interrupted him herself.
"Tell Emmanuel," she said calmly, "and the other Monarchs too... that I'll be taking another week off."
And with that, her parents slowly escorted her out of the hospital together.
---
February 12th, 2033. Fifteen minutes before Montana awoke.
The Oval Office sat in absolute silence as Emmanuel remained seated behind his desk while Alma occupied one of the guest chairs across from him, neither man speaking nor looking away from the other for even a second. The atmosphere itself felt oppressively heavy, as though the conversation taking place between them possessed enough weight to fracture the world if handled incorrectly.
Finally, Emmanuel broke the silence.
"I'm sure you fully understand what this means... correct?" he asked carefully.
"I do," Alma answered calmly.
"And if this information ever got out?" Emmanuel continued, leaning forward slightly. "If other countries gathered together and demanded your death? If they approached me searching for a way to eliminate you?" His eyes sharpened. "How would you respond to that situation? With peace... or violence? Papers... or blood?"
Alma remained silent for several long moments before finally answering.
"I don't know."
"ALMA!" Emmanuel exploded, slamming both hands against his desk as he shot to his feet instantly. "What you just told me is not something you get to be uncertain about!"
His breathing grew heavier as frustration and fear mixed together within his voice.
"This is world-altering information!" he shouted. "It destroys centuries of acceptance, reasoning, military structure, peace—everything humanity has built itself upon since the founding of this country!"
Alma looked at him steadily without flinching. "I understand that," he replied evenly. "And that is why I said: I. Don't. Know."
Emmanuel stared at him in disbelief. "So what? You would just kill them all if it came down to it? No attempt at peace? No compromise? Just... ending everything?"
"No," Alma answered immediately. "That is not what I said."
"Then what ARE you saying?" Emmanuel demanded. "You keep speaking in circles and leaving everything vague. I want the truth, Alma. Clear. Direct. Simple."
Alma slowly rose from his chair.
"You've lived your entire life by the phrase 'peace through strength,' haven't you?" he asked quietly. "If what I told you ever became public knowledge, then I cannot promise I would remain neutral anymore. History proves the same thing repeatedly—those who possess strength inevitably use it for control, authority, fear, or personal gain."
He stepped closer to Emmanuel as he spoke.
"People who weaponize strength purely to manipulate others have no right to judge me for possessing my own." Alma's voice remained calm, yet every word carried terrifying certainty beneath it. "The difference between us is not in the tiny details or technicalities. It is in ideology."
Then Alma turned fully toward Emmanuel.
"We possess power for entirely different reasons."
Emmanuel stared at him silently.
"I trust you understand what I mean," Alma said softly.
"But you know what that would make you, don't you?" Emmanuel asked after a moment. "You'd become an outcast. Everyone would fear you. Eventually, even your own children might grow to hate you."
For the first time during the conversation, Alma's expression shifted slightly.
"The only opinions I truly care about," he said quietly, "are those of my children."
His gaze sharpened.
"They are the only reason I have not released this information already. The only reason I have not killed the twisted."
Then Alma stepped directly in front of Emmanuel's desk.
"You do not scare me, Alastor," Emmanuel said sternly.
Alma gave a faint smile.
"If I did," he replied softly, "then I would be no different than the people I despise."
He looked directly into Emmanuel's eyes.
"Understand this clearly. I only told you because I trust you. I do not want you as an enemy. You are a wise man, and I believe you will make the correct decision."
Then his expression darkened slightly.
"But if that decision ever harms my children..."
The room grew unbearably still.
"You do not want to be yourself on that day."
And before Emmanuel could respond, Alma vanished instantly, teleporting away without leaving behind even the slightest trace of his presence.