A blinding light engulfed the entirety of Altopereh.
For those who witnessed it from afar, it appeared as the inevitable end—a catastrophic overload, a core pushed beyond its limit, collapsing under the weight of its own impossible power. The official report would later confirm it in simple, sterile terms:
Core Implosion. Total Loss. No Survivors.
But that… was a lie.
Or perhaps, more accurately—
A misunderstanding.
Because what happened in that moment was not destruction.
It was transition.
The light did not explode outward.
It folded inward.
Every layer of Altopereh—its armor, its systems, its very structure—seemed to dissolve into that singular brilliance. Space around it warped unnaturally, bending and distorting as though reality itself had been peeled back.
And then—
It was gone.
No debris.
No signal.
No trace.
As if it had never existed at all.
Youri felt none of it.
No pain.
No tearing sensation.
No sense of death approaching.
Only… silence.
A deep, endless silence that wrapped around him like a void.
Then—
A breath.
Youri's eyes slowly opened.
At first, everything was blurred. His vision swam, unfocused, as though he had just awoken from a dream too deep to escape. A faint sensation brushed against his skin.
Wind.
A soft, unfamiliar breeze.
That alone was enough to confuse him.
His hand rose instinctively, pressing against his forehead as if to steady himself. His thoughts came slowly, disjointed fragments struggling to reconnect.
The cockpit…
The battle…
The cannon—
His eyes snapped open wider.
The cockpit hatch.
It was open.
That was impossible.
Altopereh's cockpit did not open unless commanded—and certainly not in the vacuum of space.
Yet here it was.
Open.
And air… was flowing through it.
Youri exhaled slowly, dragging his hand down his face as he forced himself upright. His body responded, though it felt… different. Lighter. Yet heavier at the same time, as if something fundamental had shifted beneath the surface.
He stepped forward, his boots making contact with solid ground.
Ground.
Not metal.
Not plating.
Actual ground.
That realization alone sent a ripple of unease through him.
Slowly—almost cautiously—Youri lifted his gaze.
And what he saw…
Stopped him completely.
The world before him was unlike anything he had ever witnessed.
It stretched endlessly in all directions, vast and untamed, yet impossibly fractured.
To his left, an ocean of desert rolled outward, dunes of dark, ash-colored sand rising and falling like frozen waves. The wind carried grains across the surface, forming spirals that danced briefly before vanishing into the distance.
To his right—
Fire.
Massive fissures split the land open, glowing with molten light from deep within the world's core. Rivers of flame pulsed slowly through those cracks, sending waves of heat into the air. The warmth reached him even from where he stood, brushing against his skin like a living thing.
And beyond that—
Mountains.
Towering, jagged, and endless.
Their peaks pierced the sky, coated in frost and ice so dense it shimmered faintly under the dim light above. A cold wind descended from those heights, cutting sharply through the heat rising from the burning plains.
Two extremes.
Colliding.
Existing side by side in a way that defied reason.
Youri's eyes moved slowly across the horizon, trying—failing—to make sense of it.
There were no trees.
No signs of life.
No movement beyond the shifting elements themselves.
Only stone.
Fire.
Ice.
And a crimson sky that engulfed it all.
It was a world that felt… wrong.
Not because it was hostile.
But because it shouldn't exist at all.
No planet could sustain such violently opposing environments within the same breath. No ecosystem could survive this kind of imbalance.
And yet—
It did.
Youri's brow furrowed, his expression tightening as a single thought formed in his mind.
Where… am I?
The question lingered, unanswered.
Until—
A sound broke the silence.
A laugh.
Low.
Deep.
And unmistakably sinister.
It echoed across the barren expanse, reverberating through the air as if the world itself carried its tone.
Youri's body reacted instantly.
He turned sharply, his instincts kicking in before thought could catch up.
Behind him—
Something stood.
No.
Not something.
Someone.
The massive form of Altopereh had already materialized.
Not as the towering mechanical god he once piloted.
But as something else entirely.
Something… more.
Its presence alone bent the air around it, distorting the space it occupied. Its body was no longer bound by steel or armor, but neither was it flesh. It was a shifting construct of dark mass and faint, pulsing energy—its shape constantly adjusting, as though reality itself struggled to contain it.
On the orbiton where its core once existed—
There was now only a sphere.
A perfectly smooth orb of dark metal, laying at the center of the orbiton.
Youri's eyes narrowed as he faced Altopereh.
Not with fear.
But with recognition.
"…You," he muttered.
The entity tilted its head slightly, that same twisted amusement lingering in its presence.
"So you finally woke up," it said.
The voice was familiar.
Yet different.
It no longer echoed through its mind or mechanical speakers.
It resonated directly.
Inside him.
Around him.
Everywhere at once.
Youri straightened slowly, his gaze unwavering.
"What is this place?" he asked, his tone steady despite the storm of questions in his mind.
Altopereh—let out another low chuckle.
It moved.
Not by stepping.
But by shifting.
One moment it stood several meters away.
The next—
It was closer.
Close enough that Youri could feel the weight of its presence pressing against him.
"Welcome," it said, its voice carrying a strange, almost reverent tone now, "to my home."
Youri's eyes hardened slightly.
"Your home?"
Altopereh turned its gaze outward, toward the fractured horizon.
"This," it continued, "is not a world as you understand it."
A pause.
Then—
"This is Tartarus."
The name settled heavily in the air.
Youri said nothing.
But something deep within him… reacted.
As if the word itself carried meaning beyond language.
Altopereh slowly extended an arm, gesturing toward the endless, broken landscape.
"The realm of the banished," it finished.
The wind picked up again, sweeping across the land as if to emphasize its words.
Youri's jaw tightened slightly.
Banished.
The word lingered in his thoughts.
"Then I'm dead," he said flatly.
Altopereh laughed again.
Louder this time.
More amused.
"Dead?" it repeated. "No."
It leaned closer.
"Far from it."
Youri's eyes narrowed.
"Then what am I doing here?"
For the first time—
Altopereh's expression shifted.
Not into anger.
Not into mockery.
But into something… darker.
Something ancient.
"You," it said slowly, "have crossed a threshold few ever reach."
The mass at its core pulsed faintly.
"This is where things like me come from."
A pause.
"And where things like you… are made."
Silence followed.
Heavy.
Unsettling.
Youri didn't look away.
Didn't step back.
But inside—
Something had begun to change.
Because whatever Tartarus was…
Whatever Altopereh truly was…
He understood one thing with absolute certainty.
He hadn't escaped death.
He had been taken somewhere far worse.
And whatever awaited him here—
Would shape everything he would become from this point forward.