The higher floors of the Tower of Myths no longer resembled reality.
Entire oceans drifted upside down beyond fractured windows while colossal rings of scripture rotated through empty space like the gears of sleeping gods. Ancient bridges stretched infinitely before folding into dimensions that no longer obeyed direction.
And yet—
for the first time since Shiro disappeared—
there was peace.
Temporary.
Fragile.
But real.
Satre sat quietly near one of the floating balconies overlooking the dimensional abyss below. Gurter rested across her lap while golden light moved softly around her fingers.
Her future sight remained active constantly now.
Ten timelines.
Ten minutes.
Ten branching possibilities unfolding endlessly in her vision.
Most of them ended badly.
Some showed Shiro broken further.
Others showed blood.
Death.
Raiku smiling.
She hated those futures.
But she kept watching them anyway.
Because if she stopped—
she might miss the one path that saved him.
Behind her, Amelia sparred against a dimensional construct twice her size. Bloodfire exploded around her body as crimson chains erupted from the wounds she intentionally inflicted across her own arms.
The blood twisted through the air like living dragons.
One construct lost its arm instantly.
Another had its core pierced before it could react.
Amelia grinned viciously.
"Too slow."
The construct regenerated.
Amelia immediately became more excited.
"Oh, good."
Nearby, Yura floated several feet above the ground, surrounded by orbiting frost sigils glowing violet-blue. Entire sections of space froze around her magic while dimensional currents slowed unnaturally near her body.
Not ice.
Not anymore.
Control.
The awakening of Lust had changed her magic fundamentally.
She no longer simply froze things.
She influenced attraction itself.
Magic gravitated toward her naturally now.
Energy bent around her.
Even the tower's ambient mana drifted toward her unconsciously.
And beneath it all—
the bond connecting her to Shiro remained active.
She still felt him.
Still felt the pain.
The suffering.
The exhaustion.
It hadn't stopped.
If anything…
it was getting worse.
Gramia stood quietly nearby watching all three women carefully.
"…You've all changed quickly," she observed.
Amelia slammed another construct through a floating wall before answering.
"We kinda had to."
Gramia's eyes shifted toward Satre specifically.
"You awakened Pride naturally."
Then toward Yura.
"And Lust forcefully through emotional synchronization."
Yura slowly lowered herself back onto the ground.
The words sounded dangerous.
Satre noticed too.
"You say that like it matters."
"It does," Gramia replied calmly.
The tower groaned softly around them as if responding to the conversation itself.
Then Gramia stepped closer.
"There's something all of you need to understand."
The atmosphere changed immediately.
Even Amelia stopped fighting.
Gramia rarely sounded serious.
Now she did.
"The gods are not united."
Silence.
Far below them, entire dimensions shifted softly beneath the tower.
Satre's future sight flickered.
Several timelines darkened instantly.
Gramia continued quietly.
"The Successor Games were created to choose the next generation of gods. Every major god chooses Dependents to represent them."
Amelia crossed her arms.
"That part we already figured out."
"Yes," Gramia agreed. "But what you haven't figured out is this."
Her eyes sharpened faintly.
"Most of the gods want Shiro dead."
The words landed heavily.
Yura's aura froze the nearby floor instinctively.
"…Explain."
Gramia looked toward the endless dimensional void outside the tower windows.
"Lyius and Kyoko are anomalies among the gods. Both are feared."
That caught Satre's attention immediately.
"Kokono…"
"The Creation Goddess," Gramia confirmed quietly. "And Lyius, the Destruction Goddess."
Two opposites.
Both terrifying.
Both standing outside the normal balance of the pantheon.
Gramia folded her arms loosely.
"The other gods fear what Shiro could become under Lyius's influence. Especially because of his bloodline."
Satre's eyes narrowed instantly.
"You recognize it too."
Gramia hesitated briefly.
"…Yes."
Amelia frowned.
"What bloodline?"
For the first time—
Gramia looked uncertain.
Not scared.
Careful.
"That," she answered slowly, "is something even the gods avoid discussing openly."
Which meant it was important.
Very important.
Yura stepped forward slightly.
"Then why protect him at all?"
Gramia's expression softened faintly.
"Because despite what the gods claim…"
Her gaze shifted toward Satre.
"…Shiro was never supposed to suffer like this."
Silence settled heavily after that.
Amelia looked away first.
Because deep down—
they all knew it was true.
Shiro didn't choose this.
He kept getting dragged deeper into it.
Manipulated.
Broken.
Used.
Again and again.
Satre quietly tightened her grip on Gurter.
Her future sight activated again instinctively.
Ten futures unfolded.
In seven of them—
Shiro stood beside Raiku emotionless.
In two—
he killed Hiroy.
In only one—
he cried.
Satre's chest tightened painfully.
That was the worst future of all.
Because it meant somewhere inside—
he was still there.
Still hurting.
Still trying to survive.
Gramia noticed the shift in her expression immediately.
"…What did you see?"
Satre looked down silently for several seconds.
Then finally answered.
"…Someone who needs us."
That answer hurt more than any vision could.
The tower trembled softly again.
Another dimensional floor had opened above them.
Amelia rested Duskpiercer across her shoulder and exhaled slowly.
"So basically," she muttered, "the gods are playing war games while Shiro gets psychologically destroyed in the middle of it."
"…Essentially."
"Cool. Love that."
Despite everything—
Yura laughed quietly.
Tiny.
Exhausted.
Real.
And somehow that mattered.
Because even with all the revelations—
all the suffering—
all the futures threatening to collapse—
they were still climbing.
Still fighting.
Still moving toward him.
Satre slowly rose to her feet.
Golden magic drifted around her body while the tower lights dimmed softly in response.
Pride.
Lust.
Two sins awakened.
Six remained sleeping.
And somewhere far away—
Shiro continued drowning beneath suffering the gods kept calling destiny.