Is this act working? My expression remained intense, but my heartbeat stayed measured—slow, steady. A perfectly controlled facade of rage. I could feel the thin thread of killing intent bleeding off me—not too much, enough to raise alarm, and just enough to make the room feel smaller. Alexander stood across from me, posture tense, but not because he feared me. No—because he thought I was breaking.

  We’d saved each other in this battle many times. It becomes trust. A twisted kind of loyalty. And loyalty blinds.

  I stared at the table, at the scattered equipment and half-used materials, the remnants of a future we were already too late to stop. Anger simmered—not enough to consume me, but enough to ignite the act I needed him to believe. Ryuha got away. He mocked us. Mocked the dead. Mocked the suffering. Mocked the world. But none of that mattered in the long run—not really. He would die later. What mattered was the moment forming in front of me. The moment that required precision, not emotion.

  I outstretched my arm and slammed my palm onto the table—hard enough to splinter wood, to draw a sharp crack through the sterile silence. The sound echoed off the walls, vibrating through the abandoned lab. Alexander moved instantly—just as expected.

  He rushed forward to stop my supposed spiral, his arms raised not in defense, but to restrain me gently—as if I needed comforting rather than containment. His stance was weak, open, trusting.

  Predictable.

  My body turned before his concern could form into a sentence. My hand shifted. Fingers pressed together. A spear hand. Efficient. Lethal.

  I sliced Alexander’s head clean off.

  The cut was clean, no hesitation, no wasted motion. His life ended before confusion could leave his eyes. Blood erupted from the stump of his neck, a rushing fountain that sprayed across the floor and drenched the abandoned equipment in crimson.

  His head rolled, slowly at first, then with momentum—bouncing once before stopping beside a shelf, staring upward as if still trying to piece together what happened. His sword clattered shortly after, metal ringing out like a bell marking the end of an era.

  Odina gasped.

  Her bow was drawn in less than a second, stance perfect, arrow aimed at my skull. Her breathing was erratic—caught somewhere between instinct and disbelief.

  She was ready to kill me.

  Good.

  I raised both hands, not in defense, not in shame, but with deliberate calm.

  This content has been misappropriated from Royal Road; report any instances of this story if found elsewhere.

  Then I released my killing intent.

  Not the subtle bleed I’d allowed before—but the full weight. The air thickened. The room grew colder. Even the dust in the air seemed to hesitate.

  She yelled, voice trembling with fury and confusion, "What have you done?!"

  My mouth stretched. Not a smile, not madness, but conviction sharpened into expression. "What had to be done to save the world."

  Her grip faltered. The string sagged slightly. "What?!"

  I didn’t blink.

  Didn’t soften.

  Didn’t justify.

  I simply stated the truth. "It's to end Sun."

  That shook her more than the murder.

  Her stance collapsed into disbelief. "You're speaking nonsense!"

  I pointed downward—at Alexander’s body, still twitching with fading impulses. "He helped kill my parents in Sun's Civil War years back. Leo spearheaded it. I'm going to get my revenge. But that's not my main goal."

  Her gaze drifted to Alexander’s corpse, to the lifeless man who had once been her ally—maybe even someone she respected. Her brows creased. The bow lowered a fraction. "What's your main goal?"

  I stretched my fingers casually. "This world has a curse infecting it. This curse has put us back hundreds of years, killed thousands, affected millions, and will never end unless I stop it. That curse is the beyond. The ability to destroy without consequence. All beyond will bow and stop their transgressions, or die. That is my goal."

  Silence settled—thick, heavy, unmoving.

  The kind that changes the temperature of a room.

  Odina finally inhaled, realization forming in her voice. "By destroying Sun, nobody will dare challenge you in that. Wait a second. What force do you have behind you to accomplish this?"

  Now she wasn’t scared.

  She was calculating.

  I spread my arms wide—like a preacher before a congregation that wasn’t allowed to disagree. "I've gathered strong allies over the course of my employment under Sun. I've also figured out how to reach your potential early. And now..."

  I turned toward the safe in the corner.

  I kicked hard.

  The lock snapped off. Inside were three bottles.

  Surge.

  I grasped the bottles and held them up to the dim room. "With this, there's no way this fails. I don't care about being the strongest. I will teach the method on how to unlock your potential to all my allies. I've prepared."

  Then, calmly, without hesitation, I pointed my spear hand at her throat. Not emotionally. Not angrily. Just logically. "Now, will you join me? If you join, Kaiguya will follow."

  Her eyes narrowed—not with fear, but defiance.

  She wasn’t prey.

  She was a survivor. "You won't kill me."

  I let killing intent burst forth—sharp, suffocating, overwhelming. The air itself seemed to crush down on her shoulders.

  She fell to her knees.

  Her breath choked. "You think so?"

  She smiled. "I’m sure."

  Her confidence pierced deeper than any arrow.

  I released the pressure. Air flowed again.

  My shoulders lowered—not from exhaustion, but from acceptance. "I was hoping you'd join me."

  She laughed—not joyfully, but with the bitter understanding that choices were illusions. "I'll join."

  I blinked—genuine surprise leaking through. "Really?"

  She nodded once. "Not because I agree with your crackpot goal. It's just to protect my people."

  I walked to Alexander’s fallen sword and kicked it deeper into the shadows—out of sight, out of memory.

  Both hands slid into my pockets as calm washed over me.

  "Everything is falling into place, except this one piece that doesn't even realize it's on the board. He's the key to all of this."

  Odina holstered her bow slowly, watching me with wary curiosity. "Who?"

  I was already planning the war.

  "Borschmack. By revealing our potential, he will atone for his failure."