Seeing the figure slowly appear in the distance, the tank driver instinctively thought he was seeing things.
He blinked, looked again—and this time he was sure.
Someone was indeed standing there, right in the middle of the battlefield. A figure whose bearing and attire were completely out of place.
Their expression was calm—neither pleased nor angry.
Their clothes were spotless and well-kept.
They stood there with absolute composure.
Faced with such an eerie sight, the driver hesitated for a few seconds, then steeled himself and chose to keep accelerating.
Whatever that person was, his tank was in the middle of a warzone.
If he stopped now, he'd become a sitting duck!
The grenades, rockets, and artillery wouldn't wait for questions.
So—better them than me.
'Whoever that guy is, I'll run him down and keep moving!'
---
Standing on the soft, scorched earth and feeling the traces of his presence still lingering in the ground, Orsaga paid no attention to the tank driver.
Nor did he care about the whistling shells, the scattered gunfire, or the chaos around him.
All he felt was a strange complexity stirring in his heart.
And under the influence of that feeling, everything around him—the noise, the violence—suddenly became annoying.
"Quiet."
With that single word, Orsaga activated his innate ability:
[Sovereign Will – Reality Distortion]
In an instant, everything within dozens of kilometers was altered.
Soldiers, war machines, the summoned demon, even the birds, insects, and flowing air—
Anything that could produce sound was forcibly erased or silenced.
All that remained was the land itself—untouched and preserved.
Then, without warning—
The sky turned black with clouds.
Thunder and lightning wove a massive web overhead, sealing the sky with streaks of blue and white.
The universe's Will was enraged, seething with primal fury.
From the moment Orsaga forcefully invaded this world, his very presence had drawn the dimensional repulsion of the universe's consciousness.
And now, his arrogant disregard for restraint had pushed it over the edge.
It began pouring its power into expelling him.
But as meteors and thunderclouds gathered above, Orsaga didn't move.
Behind him, countless radiant halos emerged on their own, effortlessly neutralizing the rejection force.
He frowned, clearly impatient.
"You're useless... Submit to me."
With those words, an invisible force burst from his body.
[Sovereign Will – Reality Distortion] activated again.
This time, the torrent of energy and will was like the explosion of a supernova—
No—something far greater.
Unstoppable. Inescapable.
In the span of a single heartbeat, his will seized control of the entire world.
Then it began to spread outward.
Expanding across light-years—
Until every inch of this low-tier universe fell under his dominion.
Only then did it stop.
---
By now, Orsaga was stronger than every being in this universe—combined.
With a thought, the universe's consciousness was forcibly erased.
Its history, ripped out and reshaped into a physical form—a book that appeared in his hand.
[The Akasha Chronicle]
The full record of this universe.
From the birth of matter in ancient times to every scrap of knowledge ever conceived—it was all written within.
But Orsaga wasn't interested in any of that right now.
He was searching for something far more personal.
He flipped to a certain page.
The records began rewinding—as if time itself were reversing.
Mountains shifted, stars realigned, and entire eras rolled backward.
The battlefield beneath his feet slowly transformed, reshaping itself into a lavishly decorated study room.
It was one of his favorite places, long ago.
Not far away, his past self sat at the head of the room, deeply absorbed in a book.
For Orsaga, learning had always been a top priority.
Now, as if he were a ghost or a transparent observer, his presence didn't register to anyone around him.
He ran his fingers over a wooden chair in the corner, feeling the familiar grain beneath his hand, and sat down quietly.
He watched.
Calm. Still. Like a man watching a documentary of his own life.
Soon after, someone familiar walked into the room.
Trina.
The moment he saw her, Orsaga's expression wavered slightly.
But he didn't move.
This wasn't real time travel—just a reconstruction.
The difference between this and true reversal was like copying and pasting, compared to truly going back.
Even if it had been real, he wouldn't have changed anything.
That kind of sentiment was just cowardly self-consolation.
So he sat in the chair, unmoving, and watched everything unfold again—every moment like a silent film from a world long gone.
When his past self was finally expelled from this world by the universe's will, he stood up.
And stepped forward.
Before him lay the burning capital of the Principality of Mardain—a city engulfed in crimson fire.
Under the blood-red sky, Orsaga narrowed his eyes.
Then, in a low, reflective murmur, he said:
"…So it's true.
Back then, I really was… furious.
And now…
Hmm…
Yeah.
I'm still a little angry."
---
As a demon, Orsaga had always had a strangely calm temperament.
By nature, he wasn't prone to wild swings of emotion.
In his entire life, he'd almost never been truly enraged, nor truly ecstatic.
Unlike most Abyssal Demons, whose emotions were explosive and unpredictable, Orsaga was cool-headed.
Murder, war, and conflict? To him, they were just daily routines.
At best, a hobby. At worst, a job.
Even when Pennywise killed him thousands of times, he never lost his temper.
To him, killing and being killed were both just... normal.
But now?
Now, his heart was out of balance.
His mood, growing worse by the second.
Anger slowly began to consume him.
And that rage… only grew stronger. More violent.
---
The very structure of the universe began to warp.
The laws of physics started to unravel.
Systems that once supported each other began to reject one another.
Like a fragile sandcastle kicked apart by a single careless foot—
Planets shattered into dust.
Stars went dark, their plasma freezing in place.
The gravitational web of the cosmos collapsed.
Up, down, left, right, forward, backward—all direction lost meaning.
One by one, the stars flickered and died like dying candles in Orsaga's eyes.
Space itself fractured like glass—
Splintering apart, leaving behind only rifts in the void.
Temporal storms swept across the universe, roaring with unrestrained power.
Every living being—no matter how strong—perished together.
Even the spacefaring civilizations scattered throughout the galaxy were mere ants, dependent on the rules Orsaga was now unraveling.
With the death of the universe—
They followed.
---
Who knew how long it took.
Eventually, every ounce of energy and matter within the entire universe was compressed into a tiny, glowing speck, which floated silently above Orsaga's fingertip.
Then—
He crushed it.
Just like that.
And once it was done, his figure slowly faded away into nothing.