The world didn't collapse. It lost sequence.
Images flooded his mind. Not memories. It felt less like a vision… and more like recognition.
The vision locked him in place.
A towering skyscraper materialized through the fractured space. At the absolute edge of the roof stood a man.
Every time Zekai tried to focus on the silhouette, the features warped and shifted, as if reality itself strictly prohibited him from identifying the face.
Below the building lay a mass grave. Dozens of bodies were scattered across the concrete. Then came the stench of heavy, metallic blood—not just an odor, but a physical weight compressing the atmosphere. The entire setting was utterly soaked in death.
Zekai's chest tightened sharply.
The mysterious man smiled. It wasn't a smile of pride or victory. It was the expression of someone recognizing an inevitable conclusion, relieved that a long nightmare had finally ended.
'Why did he look like that?'
It wasn't relief from victory. It was relief because something had finally ended.
Distant, agonizing screams echoed from below, cutting through the heavy air.
In the man's hand rested The Fool card.
'What the hell is this vision…?'
Zekai tried to move. His body violently refused to respond.
'Why can't I move…?'
His heartbeat no longer belonged entirely to him.
Then suddenly—Zekai screamed.
Something pushed violently against his ribs from the inside. It went beyond pain or fear. Something was forcing its way through him, as if his human body had never been designed to contain what he was witnessing.
Understanding arrived too late. This wasn't a test. It was acceptance.
It wasn't the acceptance of power; it was the acceptance of consequence. Something had chosen him long before he ever touched that card. This moment was simply him realizing it too late.
Then, the man's face sharpened.
Only his eyes became clear. Nothing else stayed stable, but those eyes locked onto Zekai with terrifying precision. Those eyes recognized him.
Without a shred of hesitation, the man raised his arm and pointed directly at Zekai, deliberately marking him.
—"You're next."
"…Who are you?" Zekai whispered shakily.
For a single moment, pity crossed the man's expression. It wasn't kindness. It was the cold pity reserved for someone who was already beyond saving.
Then, he flicked The Fool card upward. The card flew with impossible speed, driving directly into Zekai's chest.
—Soon… you're going to—
The rest of the sentence shattered into static before reaching him.
"...!"
Pain exploded through his core. It wasn't surface pain. It was beneath the flesh—as if reality itself had forced an anomaly into his very soul.
His blood surged violently in opposite directions at once. His heartbeat staggered, stopped, and started again. Someone else had grabbed the controls.
"Ah—!!"
Every vein in his body burned from intense pressure. Something moved through his bloodstream like a parasite, searching, spreading, and rewriting his essence.
"What the hell is this—?!"
Zekai instinctively grabbed his chest. He could feel it. It wasn't an object; it was a presence. Something alive was embedding itself inside him.
"Get out—!"
Without hesitation, he forced his fingers into his own chest. He wasn't tearing flesh—he was reaching through a deeper layer of reality. An unbearable, sharp pain surged instantly, but he didn't stop. Even if it destroyed him, he had to pull it out.
His fingers closed around the card. It was still there, glowing with malevolent light.
Zekai pulled violently.
"—!!"
The card resisted.
It had already decided it belonged there.
His entire body trembled as he forced the connection to snap, dragging the card back into his hand. The moment it left his chest, the pain didn't stop. It spread further. His breathing shattered completely. Each breath came too late, too shallow.
'Is… this all I can do…?'
For the first time, doubt slipped into his mind.
'Or… is this just another illusion…?'
But this wasn't a dream. The burning heat in his blood, the violent tremor in his hands, and the crushing pressure inside his chest were too real.
[The Fool] card pulsed faintly in his palm again. It wasn't attacking anymore. It was waiting. It had already accomplished its goal.
Even after all this trauma, Zekai hadn't died. That alone gave him a small, bitter sense of relief. But his mind still trembled.
"…Why?" His voice came out strained. "…No. That's wrong."
He glared at the card. "Why was I already part of this? When did I ever agree to this?"
Before he could even finish the question, the truth surfaced on its own.
He had agreed. Long ago.
Silence followed.
Suddenly, Zekai's body jerked violently. The floor vanished beneath his boots. Something dragged him downward.
His vision fractured apart. The world folded inward, collapsing toward a single point. He was the absolute center of the collapse.
The collapsing vision swallowed him whole. Then reality changed scenes.
Somewhere else—
Greyhaven
A news broadcast cut through the standard morning television schedule, the audio sharp and urgent.
[BREAKING REPORT]
"Authorities have just confirmed that 43 individuals have gone missing near the Greyhaven intersection within the last hour."
"There are no signs of a struggle... no witnesses... and absolutely no explanation."
"Officials are currently calling it an unexplained mass disappearance."
The live footage cut abruptly.
A civilian phone recording showed an empty street. It was completely silent—too silent. Then, the video footage glitched. For a single frame, something stood inside the empty intersection.
Watching the camera.
The display cut to black and ended.
— Unknown Location —
A holographic screen flickered to life. It had no frame and no edges—just a thin plane of light floating in the air.
A man sat at a metal table in front of it, his face partially obscured by the shadows. Two fingers rested lightly against his temple, focusing intensely on data only he could see.
On the surface of the floating interface, text shifted at a blinding speed.
«[ CONNECTION ATTEMPTING… ]
Target: HELMITH
Status: UNREACHABLE»
A faint distortion pulsed across the display. The signal didn't fail; it slipped.
The interface immediately recalibrated itself.
«[ TRACKING SIGNAL DETECTED ]
Source: Unknown
Layer: Unregistered»
For a brief moment, the screen fractured like glass under immense pressure. Then, new data forcefully overrode the system.
«[ LOCATION: — ERROR — ]
Spatial Anchor: LOST
Reality Layer: COLLAPSED
Coordinate State: NON-EXISTENT»
The man's fingers tightened slightly against his temple.
The system repeated the call automatically.
«[ RETRYING… ]»
Silence. No response.
The screen flickered one last time. For a fraction of a second, a blurred figure appeared within the static distortion.
Standing. Still. Watching.
The feed cut instantly. The screen went completely dim.
"...We're too late," the man murmured into the darkness.
Bzzz—
✦ End of Chapter 6 — The Mysterious Man ✦