Youri hung suspended in the endless, silent expanse of the watery abyss while the dark currents drifted slowly around him like a living void. There was no sky there, no ground, only the illusion of depth stretching infinitely in every direction, and faint ripples of dim light moved beneath him, as if something vast were stirring far below the surface of reality itself.
In front of him hovered Altopereh. It was no longer the towering, world-devouring entity he had known; it existed now in a condensed, humanoid form, its body made of dense anti-matter layered over a frame that mimicked a human shape. And yet, for all its smaller size, its presence still bent the abyss around it, so that the water curved unnaturally wherever it came near, unable to stay still.
It tilted its head slightly, studying him. "That look again," it said. Its voice was no longer a monstrous roar but something quieter and colder that echoed through the abyss as though the space itself carried its words. "You still measure power by what you can see."
Youri didn't move. The weightlessness pressed against him, but his focus never wavered. "Last time I saw you," he said slowly, "you were swallowing entire battlefields. Tearing space apart." His eyes narrowed. "Now you look like this."
The corners of its mouth curved faintly. "And yet," it replied, raising one hand as threads of black energy spiraled around its fingers like liquid shadow, "you can feel it, can't you?"
Youri didn't answer, because he could. The pressure here was heavier than before — not overwhelming, but concentrated, as though everything Altopereh had once been had been compressed into something far more dangerous.
"This form," it went on, drifting a little closer without disturbing the water, "is not weakness. It is refinement. The form you knew was excess — a weapon shaped for annihilation." Its voice dipped. "This is what I was before they interfered."
Youri's gaze sharpened. "The knight."
Something flickered in its eyes. "Yes. One of them."
"The ones from Sacros," Youri said, testing the word.
Altopereh didn't deny it. It began to circle him slowly, leaving faint distortions in the abyss like ripples on still water. "They are not warriors in the way you understand. They are enforcers of balance. Keepers of the boundaries between realms. When something exceeds its place, they intervene."
"And you exceeded it," Youri said flatly.
It stopped in front of him. "I was it."
Silence settled between them, thick and heavy. Neither of them moved, and the dark water held perfectly still around them. Youri let out a slow breath. "You said you weren't even here before. You were somewhere else. A different dimension."
It nodded faintly. "A prison layered beyond Tartarus. A place built to hold what cannot be destroyed." A faint chuckle escaped it. "They believed sealing me twice would be enough."
"And it wasn't."
"No. Because of you."
Youri frowned at once. "Don't twist that. I didn't help you."
"You didn't intend to," Altopereh said calmly. "That is why it worked." It drifted closer again. This time the abyss reacted, its currents tightening and its space bending subtly. "That anti-matter discharge did more than destroy your enemies. It fractured the boundary between realms. It opened a path — one even they did not anticipate."
Youri's face darkened as flashes of that moment came back to him — the cannon firing, the void collapsing, reality folding in on itself. "So what now? You're free?"
Altopereh looked down at its own form and flexed its fingers as faint fractures of dark energy pulsed across its surface. "Not entirely. The knight forced my essence back into the core."
"So you're sealed again."
It shook its head. "No. Not sealed." Its gaze lifted back to him. "Bound."
The word lingered, and Youri felt it at once — a connection, subtle but undeniable. "To me," he said quietly.
Altopereh smiled faintly. "You are beginning to understand."
"I didn't agree to that," Youri snapped.
"You didn't need to. Your existence already anchors me. That is why he did not destroy you."
Youri's thoughts raced. "He could have ended me. I saw what he did out there."
"Yes. He could have."
"Then why didn't he?"
For the first time, Altopereh didn't answer at once. The abyss around them shifted — barely, but noticeably — as the currents slowed and thickened. When it spoke, its voice had changed. "Because this is no longer just about me."
Youri's chest tightened. "Explain."
Its gaze locked onto his. "The boundaries between realms are weakening. Tartarus, your world, their domain — they were never meant to touch. But now they do."
The weight of those words settled deep in him. "And the knight?"
"Is not alone. What you saw was one of many."
Youri clenched his jaw. "Then why leave us alive?"
Altopereh moved closer still, until the space between them almost collapsed under the pressure. "Because something else has drawn their attention."
Youri didn't like the tone of that. "What?"
Its voice dropped. "You."
The abyss reacted instantly. A deep, low tremor rippled through the endless water — not a sound, not a shockwave, but something deeper. The whole space shifted, as if something far below had moved. Youri's eyes snapped downward by instinct, and the darkness beneath them was no longer empty. It was moving. Another tremor followed, stronger, and the currents twisted violently now, spiraling outward from a point far below.
He looked back at Altopereh. "Is that them?"
Its expression hardened — but not in fear. "No." The abyss darkened further and swallowed what little light remained. When it spoke again, its voice carried that ancient, monstrous resonance once more. "This is something far older."
The water around them began to stretch and fold, as though reality itself were being drawn inward. Youri felt it in his chest and in his bones. "What is it?" he demanded.
Altopereh's gaze dropped into the depths below, and for the first time, it wasn't amused. "It means," it said slowly, "that you will finally know the truth."
And the abyss opened.