Somewhere, Nabiel found himself sitting in a white void. There was no ceiling, no walls, and no floor that sane logic could define. Only a blinding expanse of nothingness stretched in every direction. He sat on a chair made of clear glass, cold and silent.
In front of him, separated by a distance that felt both impossibly close and infinite, stood the same figure. Himself.
A young man in an oversized white shirt with messy black hair. Yet something was wrong with that reflection. The eyes of the figure before him were far darker, emptier, and more terrifying. There was not a single spark of light in those black pupils, as if they were black holes ready to swallow every form of reality and narrative.
The figure stared at Nabiel. Its lips did not move, yet a voice echoed inside the Observer's head. A voice that was cold, absolute, and always whispered the one question that had haunted him throughout eternity.
"Then, what is life for?"
The voice hummed and vibrated, crumbling the white emptiness around him. The clear glass beneath Nabiel began to crack. The darkness from the figure's eyes slowly crept forward, trying to drag him back into an endless cycle of nothingness.
Nabiel closed his eyes and drew a long breath.
When he slowly opened them again, the void had vanished. He awoke in a quiet place, under the shelter of a simple wooden cabin. The scent of pine wood and cool mountain air greeted his senses, replacing the smell of blood and ash from the battlefield he last remembered.
This was not the U.A. infirmary. This was not the hero world.
A shadow moved from the small kitchen in the corner of the room. Its footsteps were almost soundless on the wooden floor. The figure carried a small wooden tray holding a steaming ceramic cup, its fragrant steam blending the calming aroma of jasmine and spices.
It was a girl. A girl with long straight hair wearing a black lace gothic lolita dress. In contrast to her pale skin, her hair and eyes were deep black, a characteristic very familiar to Nabiel.
"Your tea, Father," the figure said in a flat tone that still carried a subtle warmth. She placed the cup on the small table beside the bed.
Nabiel sat up slowly. Strangely, both hands that had been burned and ruined by blue fire now appeared perfectly flawless. His oversized white shirt was clean and spotless. He looked at the girl, and a smile he rarely showed in the mortal world gently spread across his face.
"Thank you, Nora," Nabiel said softly.
He accepted the cup. Its warm steam brushed his face. He sipped it slowly, letting the warm liquid flow down his throat and sweep away the remnants of his cosmic and mental exhaustion.
Nora stood there, observing her "father" with a pair of black eyes that held wisdom far beyond her immeasurable age.
"Dreaming again as usual?" the girl named Nora asked. Her voice broke the silence of the wooden cabin. "Indeed, we are in Terra. The place where all hierarchies and narratives lie beneath us. But at our core, we originated from humans. That is somewhat painful."
Nabiel remained silent for a moment. His gaze drifted toward the open wooden window, revealing the eternal twilight sky that stretched over Terra, the highest dimension where the Outers resided.
"You are right," Nabiel finally said. He set the ceramic cup back on the table. "Even though I have made peace with myself, even though the answer has been found. But… the pain is always there, because we are human, no matter how strongly we reject it."
Nabiel raised both hands and stared at his own palms. In Terra he was an absolute entity. But in the world where he disguised himself, he had just felt his skin blister and the pain sear his nerves to maintain a "role." Ironically, that mortal pain was what made him feel alive.
"I will never reject it again," Nabiel continued, his voice steadier now. He looked at Nora. "The pain, the fragility, and the foolishness of a story… they all have meaning. I am beginning to understand it again lately."
Nora took the empty cup and bowed her head slightly in respect. Though her face showed minimal expression, there was relief in her eyes. "Everything is right in front of you. It has been quite a while since you last greeted us."
Nabiel rubbed the back of his neck, which was not itchy, his lazy habit resurfacing. "Ahhh, sorry about that. I have been observing something."
"A story about heroes and villains?" Nora guessed.
"Yes. A very noisy cliché story," Nabiel chuckled softly. "But there are interesting people there. Someone who breaks his own bones for others, and… someone who always scolds me for sleeping too often in class."
Nabiel rose from the bed. He walked to the front door of the wooden cabin. As he pushed it open, the extraordinary view of Terra unfolded before him. No longer ruined cities or shattered training facilities, but a boundless garden with glowing trees and constellations of stars spinning beneath their feet. In the distance, several silhouettes of other cosmic entities, his family in this realm, appeared to be gathering.
Yet Nabiel knew his time here was only a pause. His consciousness in Terra was merely a resonance from his physical body, which was sleeping deeply in the world below.
"Nora," Nabiel called without turning, his eyes still fixed on the beauty of Terra.
"Yes, Father?"
"Watch over this place a little longer. It seems my 'vacation' of observation in that world will last a bit longer than I planned."
Nora nodded slowly. "Of course. Be careful with your role. Do not forget the way home."
"I will not," Nabiel murmured.
Slowly the eternal twilight of Terra began to fade. The sound of mountain wind was replaced by the rhythmic beeping of a heart monitor. The scent of pine wood gave way to the sharp smell of antiseptic. The sensation of his clean clothes shifted to the rough texture of hospital blankets.
Nabiel opened his heavy eyes. The first sight that greeted him was the clean white ceiling of the emergency medical tent. The numb, throbbing pain in both bandaged hands returned, clear proof that he had come back into the story.
He turned his head slightly to the right. There, sleeping in an uncomfortable sitting position with her head resting against the edge of his bed, was Yaoyorozu Momo. The girl was still wearing her dirty sports uniform, her breathing steady from exhaustion after staying awake who knew how long to watch over him.
Nabiel gazed at Momo's peaceful face and recalled the question from his reflection in the void earlier.
"Then, what is life for?"
Nabiel let out a long sigh and smiled faintly, almost imperceptibly. He used the tip of his elbow to pull the blanket slightly higher, covering Momo's cold shoulders.
"Maybe," the lazy Outer Observer thought, "just to see how the next scene unfolds."