He stood amidst the mist, the world around him a wash of monochromatic grey.
Through the haze, he could faintly make out ancient silhouettes—shapes that resembled castles from antiquity, yet possessed the sharp flair of modern artistry. It appeared to be a massive complex of interconnected buildings, each topped with a spire piercing the sky, and each sharing the same pale, ashen skin as the fog itself.
The boy's mind was blank.
He couldn't think. He couldn't remember. Why am I here?
Enigmatic mist curled up from his feet, silent and soundless, clinging to his body like a lover. Every wisp that entwined him seemed to thin his existence; every swirl of the fog dulled his thoughts further.
The boy was unaware. He simply squinted, straining to see the scene more clearly, attempting to peer through the veil to grasp the whole picture.
Finally, he dredged up fragmented shards from the depths of his empty mind. By then, the grey fog had corroded him up to his neck. Most of his body was gone, leaving only a lonely head and half a right hand floating in the air—a sight both grotesque and comical.
"...Order..."
The boy whispered, raising his solitary right palm and pushing it forward.
An invisible force surged, piercing through the sea of grey. A clear path manifested before him. On either side, the mist roiled and surged, crashing against an unseen barrier like waves against a reef, forced to retreat in frustration.
The boy's body solidified once more. The clinging grey receded. He stepped forward, and the mist dispersed even faster, as if a terrifying, invisible demon were clearing the path, scaring away even the mindless fog.
He could finally see clearly.
He stood in the center of an immense plaza paved with red bricks. Twisted, withered old trees clawed out from the cracks in the stone, their crooked branches weaving together to shroud the surroundings.
The vague outlines of the buildings ahead revealed their true forms: Seven clock towers that seemed to pulse with biological life. A massive clock face hung in the center of each spire. Every movement of the hands caused the very structures to tremble.
Click, click, click.
Seven second hands pointed to the 6 simultaneously. 23:59:30. Half a minute remained before the end of this day—and the beginning of a new one.
The moment he witnessed this bizarre spectacle, the boy's memories flooded back.
He remembered his name. He was Gongsun Ce, and he had come here with a friend...
Fragments eroded by the grey fog lit up one by one. He recalled the sequence of this calamity, and the realization made him tense to the point of trembling.
There was no time left.
Only half a minute. Only thirty seconds!
"—!"
In an instant, the earth shook, and the heavens trembled. Light bloomed within the haze.
A giant entity, standing tall enough to support the sky, rose from behind the cluster of clock towers. Its body dwarfed the buildings, and the radiance it emitted melted the mist away!
The Shining One.
But the light could not hide the scars of battle. Its mighty, colossal body was covered in horrifying wounds. Its solemn face had been marred by deep cuts... Anyone could see the giant was on the verge of collapse, yet it rose from the grove of jagged trees to continue the unfinished fight.
The giant was immense, yet its movements were swift. The Shining One raised its fist and smashed it toward the largest clock tower in the center!
The steel fist, striking like lightning, was halted in mid-air by a multicolored barrier.
The recoil sent the giant crashing backward. Its iron body slammed onto the red brick road, kicking up dust that reached the sky. Its light dimmed; only its eyes still flickered with a weak spiritual glow.
The cold mist rolled back in. The clock's second hand continued to move stubbornly.
Giggle.
Laughter drifted from the mist, sounding like silver bells, as if the spirits hiding in the fog were amused by this futile struggle.
The boy hated that laughter. He hated the mockery of effort.
Under normal circumstances, he would have found the culprit and taught them a lesson—but this was not the time. The boy sprinted forward with all his might. He had finally woken from his confusion and remembered his duty!
He crossed the hundred-meter distance in a flash. The boy leaped in front of the clock towers, aiming for the northernmost spire. It was the closest target, the absolute limit of his ability's range.
"It's not over!" he shouted. "It's not over yet!!"
He stopped suppressing the mist. Instead, he reached out toward the giant in the ruins. The boy squeezed every ounce of power from his being, using it as fuel to force the giant to stand once more.
Taxing the flesh. Mobilizing the spirit. Burning the soul. If that isn't enough, I'll offer up my heart as well!
The stinging pain from the depths of his brain made him want to scream, but his parched throat produced no sound. His powerless figure slipped from the top of the clock tower, and the invisible barrier shattered. The mist rushed back in, wrapping around him like a shroud, eroding his fragile spirit and freezing his mind.
In less than three seconds, "his" existence would vanish.
He would melt into this gentle mist, just like everyone else... just like the knight who had guided him here...
Just like everyone in this city.
He spent one second formulating his last words, only to realize that even if he thought of something profound, he couldn't speak it.
So, he prepared to fade away quietly.
But when the next second arrived, pain assaulted him. It didn't feel like hitting mud; it felt like crashing onto steel.
A giant palm had caught him. With new fuel, the giant rose from the ruins once more!
Don't waste time, the giant's intent echoed.
"It's enough, Ah Ce. Trust me."
Okay.
Let's go.
"Aaaah, let's go! Let's bring an end to this!!"
The Shining One wasted not a single second. The giant swung its arms, fired beams of light, kicked with its damaged legs, and even delivered a savage headbutt.
In less than twenty seconds, six spires had fallen.
Only one eerie clock tower remained. He roared in unison with the giant, and as the final second arrived, they smashed toward the last clock!
"DONG..."
The three hands were about to align at 12. The melodious bell prepared to toll but was drowned out by a magnificent boom: The Shining One's fist smashed squarely into the clock, stopping the final second hand halfway through its movement!
The surface of the clock shattered. The instrument that marked time cracked and crumbled.
They both thought, simultaneously: It's over.
The moment the clock tower disintegrated, the grey fog would disperse. The long, painful battle had finally reached its end.
With the ecstasy of relief, with the excitement of saving the world, the two looked at the ruins of the tower—
The clock was destroyed. But the spire stood tall.
Under the shattered shell of the clock face lay a deep darkness that felt like condensed malice.
A dim light flashed within that void. It rushed out of the clock, stabbing forward like a dagger!
"Cuckoo~"
What they saw was a wooden cuckoo bird.
The carving was rough, amateurish, looking exactly like a project rushed by a student five minutes before a deadline: wings roughly outlined, a beak carved flat like a duck, colors a mess of yellow, blue, and red. It had glass eyeballs, but one was missing—a blind cuckoo bird.
It was repulsive.
"Cuckoo~"
Untimely. Out of place. An anomaly.
"Cuckoo~"
The absurdity was palpable. Like a pianist appearing in the middle of a battlefield, or a clown laughing at a funeral. A mockery of the hero's struggle.
The Shining One swung its giant fist, fired beams of light, used every weapon it possessed—but all attacks failed. They simply passed through the wooden bird, unable to interfere in the slightest.
They finally realized.
And that delayed realization made their blood run cold.
This feeling had never appeared in the past, yet now that they experienced it, they understood immediately...
This was Despair.
"DONG——!"
The deafening bell rang out, mixed with the low laughter of the malicious entity.
The vibration snapped the wooden bird's support stand. The cuckoo fell, tumbling stiffly through the air.
It should have fallen into the mist and vanished. But instead, the grey mist twisted, spiraling like a typhoon with the bird as its eye.
Layers of fog wrapped around the carving, outlining fine scales, condensing into a thick tail, slender limbs, wings of bone, and a single, terrifying eye. The petite statue was gone, replaced by a massive Beast of Distortion!
The mist cleared, revealing the true sky.
A full moon hung above. A moon as red as blood.
Amidst the ruins, the grotesque creature let out a wail that sounded like weeping. It spread its fleshless wings and rose... up, up... towards the sky.
Gongsun Ce tried to lift his hands. He wanted to struggle one last time. But humans cannot control limbs that do not exist. The moment that creature appeared, the individual named Gongsun Ce began to melt.
His flesh turned to wax. His mind began to fade.
Wrong, he thought. It's all wrong.
They had mistaken the true enemy from the very beginning.
What hovered before him was a life humanity could not touch. An existence that defied logic. It was not something nurtured by nature. It was different from everything in this world at its very origin.
Therefore, it was invincible. Therefore, it was unstoppable.
The Calamity had descended. The Dragon had come.
"It's not over."
Gongsun Ce "looked" at the giant's head. The giant was motionless.
It was another voice. A weak, yet gentle female voice.
"It's not over..."
"So don't give up..."
"So, don't die!"
He finally saw it—a streak of golden light at the edge of his vision.
A girl with short golden hair, clad in shining silver armor. A relief of a pale gold wreath adorned her breastplate. Six wing-like patterns on her armor glowed brighter as she moved.
In her right hand, she dragged a giant sword—a weapon twice her height, silver-white with a black line running down its center. The hilt was wrapped in blood-colored cloth, topped with twisted spikes.
She ran on her own two feet, yet she moved faster than sound. In a breath, she surpassed the frozen giant and faced the Dragon head-on.
Gongsun Ce caught a glimpse of her profile. Tears streamed down her face.
Why still fight? He let out a silent scream.
Don't go.Come back.You can't use that sword.You can't do it alone.
"..."
No sound came out.
He could only watch helplessly as the girl charged, listening to her sorrowful sobbing.
"I don't admit it... I don't acknowledge it..."
"I will absolutely not accept this reality!"
The knight raised her sword, pointing it at the Dragon.
"Come, Dragon of the Netherworld!"
Mist spewed from the Dragon's mouth, twisting reality itself.
The girl's fingers danced, drawing glowing symbols in the air. The grey fog dispersed the moment it touched them, vanishing like phantom light in a dream.
That is a power different from ours, he realized.
"Dragon Slaying Art. The Impermanence Arts."
Acknowledging one's powerlessness. Understanding the distance to the goal. Despite this, moving forward. Even so, reaching out a hand.
A technique born solely to expel natural disasters. The power of the Mind.
"Calamity Aspect · Genesis —"
Creating the world one seeks through sheer persistence. To achieve the sole wish. To realize a miracle that transcends possibility.
"Sky Wheel Regression · Falling Arc Light!"
She swung the heavy sword, slashing at the Dragon under the blood moon.
A cross-shaped spark burst from the tip of the blade. The light was warm and gentle. It eclipsed the massive body of the Dragon, and even the blood moon dimmed before it.
In the world, there was only the starlight of the cross.
Her voice echoed from somewhere unknown.
"I want to make everything... go back to how it was."
...
"!"
Gongsun Ce woke up from the nightmare.
He sat up, supporting his forehead with one hand, gasping for breath. The shout from the dream still echoed in his brain, a remnant sound that refused to fade.
He had taken off his glasses before sleeping, so the world before him was blurry.
Just like in the mist.
It was as if the haze from three years ago was still there.