Chapter 35
This arc was supposed to happen two episodes after this.
Not now, not in the middle of a situation that still carried the scent of metal and the sound of rain that never had the chance to fall.
Yet reality rarely leaves room for "supposed to."
In a world controlled by the Administrators, the timeline could be crushed and stitched back together like a tattered cloth still trying to look new.
Here Theo stood, between a script that had changed and a scenario that refused to obey.
He knew that whatever was happening was no longer part of the original plan.
The conflict that should have been the climax of the first arc's seventh episode now appeared prematurely, carving a strange wound into the story's structure.
But somehow, that wound felt alive—as if the world was writing itself without anyone's permission.
The seeds of conflict between Erietta and Aldraya had grown quickly, blooming into a poisonous plant watered by despair and pride.
They were no longer two characters playing their roles, but two souls refusing to be chained by any script.
Theo watched from afar, witnessing how their emotions stirred a new storm within the trembling air.
Meanwhile, on the other side, Cru walked with unwavering steps, acting as the hand that executed the system's will.
He did not strike out of hatred, but out of duty—to straighten what had gone astray and return the world to its orbit.
And in the clash of wills far greater than himself, Theo could only watch, feeling a coldness crawl behind wounds that had yet to fully heal.
When Cru finally halted his steps, the world seemed to freeze in a suffocating silence.
Theo stood between fires almost extinguished and rain reluctant to fall, between bitter laughter and breaths weighed down by exhaustion.
He knew all of this happened because of human choices that dared to defy fate—but also because of the playful hands of gods twisting the needle of time.
In that chaos, Theo questioned himself.
'Where is the boundary between written fate and the improvisation of a character who realizes he is being played?'
And as that question echoed in his chest, Theo could only smile faintly.
A cracked smile, but sincere in its surrender.
Perhaps this was the only way to laugh amidst pain.
'Ten minutes have passed—good enough.
My left arm is slowly moving again, though still as stiff as cold iron.
At least the pain is gone.
I can't possibly lie under this tree forever.
I'd better see for myself how Ilux handles both of them.'
Huuuuuf!
'I hope he isn't badly hurt.
When Aldraya and Erietta get angry, they destroy anything that crosses their path.
Earlier, I almost got hit by their swords.'
Wuuussh!
'Alright, let's see how far this chaos goes before another Administrator interferes.'
For about ten minutes, Theo let himself lie among the shadows of trees that breathed softly.
The damp earth beneath his back felt like the embrace of a world too weary from witnessing chaos, yet still trying to comfort the small creature begging for rest on its surface.
His breath rose and fell in a steady rhythm, while the breeze stirred branches and brushed leaves—creating a sound almost like whispered prayers.
The wounds on his shoulder and left arm had not fully healed, but the rampant regeneration inside his body worked patiently, like time slowly erasing tear marks from the face of the earth.
The pain turned into tingling, then into a strange looseness that allowed him to move his fingers once more.
He sat up slowly, gazing at his palm that had returned to its shape.
Still stiff, still cold.
At the edge of his vision, the world shimmered faintly, like a holographic illusion trying to adjust itself after being torn open by the hands of the Administrators.
Theo inhaled deeply, letting the air—thick with the scent of metal and smoke—fill his lungs.
He knew that somewhere not far from here, Ilux was trying to calm two women who had unknowingly become the fuse to the narrative's flame.
And in this quiet pause, Theo realized something strange—his presence in this broken scenario was no longer a mere technical error, but part of a larger will, perhaps even beyond that of the Administrators themselves.
With slow steps, Theo began to walk.
Each step produced a small sound—crushed leaves, snapping twigs, soil pressed beneath the weight of his body and mind.
A thin rain began to fall, landing on his hair and shoulders, reflecting faint light from a sky not yet fully dark.
That light glimmered on the metallic skin forming beneath his flesh, showing that his healing was still ongoing.
He did not hurry.
There was no point in rushing in a world where even time no longer obeyed its own line.
And finally, in the silence that draped the battlefield, Theo arrived at his destination.
Not too far from the conflict's center, but far enough to observe without being dragged into it.
'It seems the plan worked.
Ilux truly understands how to cool the anger of those two monsters.'
Tsuuuuf!
'From here, it's clear—Erietta and Aldraya are lowering their weapons.
They even hide them, as if not wanting anything nearby to reignite their fury.
But this is not a sign of peace. Their eyes—still stabbing at each other—show that this ceasefire is nothing more than a formality.'
Uuuuuuhh!
'A temporary ceasefire is still better than battles raging endlessly.
They're both stubborn, yes, but wise enough to realize there's a greater threat than mere personal pride.'
Among the thick forest drenched in thin mist, Theo Vkytor appeared like a silhouette hiding from the world's gaze.
He stood still between two old, rough-barked trees, his fingers gripping a worn notebook—the last object that refused to vanish when ninety-nine percent of his reality was devoured by the world of Flo Viva Mythology.
On the other side, the silence weighing down the air was not peace—it was the residue of emotional explosions only moments ago.
A dim light from the darkened sky fell on his face, emphasizing the exhaustion in his eyes as he watched the clearing where two figures slowly lowered their weapons.
Erietta and Aldraya stood in the middle of the scarred battlefield, their breaths still clashing with the dust that hadn't yet settled.
Their movements were slow but certain.
The weapons that once gleamed with battle now disappeared from sight, absorbed by a will greater than their own.
The tension faded, replaced by a cold understanding—a pause between two opposing poles no longer eager to harm, yet not ready to reconcile.
In the shadow of the trees, Theo watched everything, unwilling to move closer, as if knowing each step might alter the fate already written.
He then straightened his posture, leaning against a thick trunk, looking up at the sky hanging above them like a dark cloak capturing all light.
The book in his hand rose slightly to his chest, as though he was weighing something more than mere notes.
Inside it lay many things—plans, memories, and fragments of a scenario that once belonged to a game, now turned into a reality binding his life.
To be continued…