Youri stood there as the weight of Lea's words settled over him like the crimson sky itself. The wind had died down, but the silence that replaced it felt heavier and unnatural, as if the world had paused to let the truth sink in. "The beginning of everything," he repeated under his breath.
Lea didn't answer at once. Her gaze stayed on the horizon, where the jagged cliffs met the drifting masses of stone, and for a moment she seemed far away, as though she weren't looking at the world in front of her but through it. "Yes," she said at last. "And the end of everything too."
He let out a dry breath. "That doesn't make any sense."
"It's not supposed to. You're still thinking like someone who belongs to a linear world — cause and effect, beginning and end, life and death." She turned a little toward him. "Tartarus doesn't follow those rules."
Frustration crept into his face. "Then explain it in a way that does."
Her head tilted faintly, as if she were weighing whether he was worth the effort. "Fine. But you won't like the answer."
He folded his arms in spite of the pain in his ribs. "Try me."
She stepped forward, her boots crunching lightly on the uneven stone, and pointed toward the vast desert visible far beyond the cliffs — a pale, endless expanse that divided the domains like a scar across the world. "You see that? That desert is the only constant in Tartarus. It separates the domains and keeps them from consuming each other."
"Consuming?"
She nodded. "Each domain is a manifestation of its ruler — their will, their nature, their identity, if you can still call it that."
His eyes narrowed. "So that ice world was Tikadello?"
"Yes. Everything you saw there — every storm, every shard of ice, every breath of cold — was him."
He breathed out slowly. "Then this place…"
"Belongs to Gaisen," she finished.
As if on cue, a distant roar echoed through the sky, and Youri looked up just as Gaisen's massive silhouette cut across the crimson clouds, its wings slicing the air with silent authority. It circled once and vanished behind a cluster of floating pillars. "…Right," he muttered.
Lea lowered her hand. "Now imagine this. What happens when two of those domains collide?"
He thought about it. "They fight?"
She shook her head faintly. "They overwrite each other. One devours the other. The stronger will absorbs the weaker — its domain, its power, its very existence."
His face darkened. "So it's survival of the strongest."
"No," she said quietly. "It's survival of the most absolute."
"That sounds like the same thing."
"It isn't. Strength can be challenged. Power can be resisted. But something absolute…" She paused. "…cannot be denied."
Youri didn't answer. The wind began to stir again, brushing the cliffs with a low, restless hum, and after a moment he spoke. "So where do I fit into all of this? I'm not some domain ruler. I'm just me."
Lea turned fully toward him at last. "That's what makes you dangerous."
He blinked. "Dangerous?"
"You're still human. You still have limits. Doubts. Attachments." She stepped closer, and her voice dropped. "And yet you carry something that doesn't belong to this world. Something that shouldn't even exist here."
His jaw tightened. "Altopereh."
She neither confirmed it nor denied it. "That thing didn't just bring you here. It used you."
He looked away. "Yeah. I figured as much."
"But it also left something behind."
That made him pause. "What do you mean?"
Her gaze dropped briefly to his chest. "You can feel it, can't you?"
He hesitated. At first he wanted to deny it, but then he focused, and there it was — a faint sensation, subtle but unmistakable, like a slow, steady pulse deep within him. Not pain, and not warmth. Something else. "…Yeah," he admitted quietly.
She nodded once. "That is the residue of its power. A fragment."
"And that's supposed to be a good thing?"
"No," she said bluntly. "It's the only reason you're still alive."
Silence fell between them, and Youri clenched his fist as he felt that faint pulse again. "So what? You're telling me I'm turning into one of those things?"
She didn't answer right away, and that was answer enough. "No," she said at last. "Not yet."
He gave a humorless laugh. "That's reassuring."
She ignored the sarcasm. "If you stay here long enough, you will change, whether you want to or not." She turned back toward the open world. "The only question is into what."
His face hardened as he followed her gaze. "I'm not staying here. I don't care what this place is, or how it works. I'm getting out."
Lea studied him for a moment, her head tilting slightly beneath her hood. "Then you'll need power."
"I know."
"And control. More than you have ever had."
"That's what the Orbiton is for."
Something shifted in her, just slightly. "That machine won't save you. It's a shell. A tool. Nothing more." She stepped closer, her voice quieter now, but sharper. "If you rely on it alone, Tartarus will break you."
He met her gaze without flinching. "Then I won't rely on it alone."
She held his stare a few seconds longer, and then looked away. "…Good," she murmured.
A distant rumble rolled across the cliffs, and both of them turned toward it. Far away, beyond the floating pillars, something shifted, and the air itself began to warp like heat bending reality.
Youri narrowed his eyes. "What is that?"
Lea's posture stiffened. "Trouble."
The distortion grew stronger. The ground trembled faintly beneath them, sending small pebbles rolling across the stone. Gaisen's roar sounded again, louder and sharper. Then came a crack. Not a sound, but a sensation, like something tearing through the fabric of the world.
His eyes widened. "What the hell—"
Lea seized his arm. "We need to move."
"Why?"
"Because something just crossed into this domain."
His face hardened instantly. "Another ruler?"
She shook her head, and her voice dropped. "No. Something worse."
The distortion in the distance spread, and for a brief moment Youri could have sworn he saw it — a silhouette, tall and twisted and unnatural, not like the others, not like anything that belonged here. The pulse in his chest spiked violently, and for the first time since arriving in Tartarus he felt something new. Not confusion, not anger, not even fear. Recognition.
"…No way," he whispered.
Lea looked at him sharply. "You've seen it before?"
He didn't answer. His eyes were locked on the distant distortion. "That's not from this world," he said.
The air trembled again. And whatever was coming, it was coming for them.