---
Nocth did not move for a while.
Not after Heron finished speaking.
Not after Imuis fell silent.
Not even after the map projection dimmed into a faint hovering ghost of itself.
It was as if the air inside Korrbend Fringe had thickened—becoming heavier than metal, heavier than thought.
His hands slowly curled inward.
At first, it was subtle. Almost unnoticeable.
Then his fingers tightened hard enough that the joints turned pale.
His nails pressed into his palms.
Not enough to draw blood.
But enough to remind him that he was still real.
---
Nocth's eyes—usually distant, dull, half-absent in their quiet observation—had changed.
The emptiness in them didn't disappear.
It deepened.
Like something inside had fallen into a lower layer of silence.
His lips parted slightly.
Then closed again.
A slow tremor passed through his jaw.
And then—
"…They extract it?"
His voice came out low.
Not loud enough to echo.
But sharp enough to cut the stillness.
Heron didn't answer immediately.
Imuis didn't either.
Nocth lifted his gaze slightly, but it wasn't fully directed at them anymore.
It was as if he was staring through them.
Through the room.
Through the idea itself.
"…From people who haven't even awakened?"
Silence answered him.
That silence was worse than confirmation.
---
Nocth's fingers tightened further.
This time his knuckles cracked softly.
His shoulders rose slightly—tense, restrained, as if something inside his body was trying to stand up and he was forcing it down.
His expression didn't become loud anger.
It became something colder.
A controlled fracture.
The kind of anger that doesn't explode outward…
but collapses inward until it becomes something sharper than sound.
"…How…"
His voice hesitated.
Not from fear.
From disbelief refusing to become understanding.
"How could people be so inhumane…"
The words dragged out slowly.
Each syllable felt like it cost him something.
"…to do something like that?"
---
Heron exhaled.
A long, tired sound.
He leaned back slightly against one of the floating debris frames.
For once, his usual sarcasm didn't rise fast enough to protect him.
Imuis looked away from the projection.
Not because he didn't want to answer.
But because he had already answered this question too many times in his life.
And none of those answers ever felt complete.
---
Nocth's eyes shifted slightly toward Heron.
Still dull.
Still half-shadowed.
But no longer empty.
There was something inside them now.
A weight.
A pressure trying to form shape.
Heron scratched the back of his neck.
"…Yeah."
He said it quietly.
Then paused.
His shoulders dropped a little, like the memory itself was heavy.
"It wasn't always like this."
Imuis finally spoke, voice calm but distant.
"Seraphly Satrum… and the world around it…"
He hesitated, as if selecting words carefully.
"…wasn't fractured in this way."
Heron gave a faint, humorless smile.
"Fractured is a nice word for it."
Imuis continued anyway.
"There was a time when boundaries were stable."
"When factions… didn't exist like predators circling each other."
Heron added softly, almost unwillingly:
"When people didn't need to fear the air they were born into."
---
Nocth's grip loosened slightly.
Not because the anger faded.
But because it shifted.
From rage…
to something more confused.
More human.
---
Heron's gaze drifted upward, as if looking at something far beyond the broken ceiling.
"There are records."
He spoke slower now.
Like he was not telling a story…
but remembering one that didn't belong to him personally.
"They say the world wasn't always divided into tiers of survival."
Imuis nodded faintly.
"There was a central existence."
A pause.
Then Heron corrected softly:
"Not a ruler in the way people think of rulers."
"More like…"
He searched for the word.
"An anchor."
Imuis exhaled.
"The one who held everything in coherence."
Heron gave a faint shrug.
"People used to call him different things depending on region."
"But across records…"
A pause.
"…they all agree he stood above classification."
Nocth's gaze shifted slightly.
"…Above classification?"
Heron smirked faintly.
"Yeah."
"Like the system itself couldn't decide what he was."
Imuis added quietly:
"Some texts refer to him as the one who existed beyond rank ten."
Heron waved a hand slightly.
"Not officially a rank."
"More like a rumor the world didn't know how to erase."
---
Nocth's expression flickered.
Just slightly.
Something inside his memory stirred—faint, blurred, like a broken reflection on water.
Not recognition.
But familiarity without origin.
---
Heron continued.
"In those times…"
His tone shifted again.
"…things weren't separated the way they are now."
He pointed vaguely at the projection remnants.
"Beasts."
"Spiritual races."
"Intelligent non-human civilizations."
Imuis stepped in, more structured:
"Fenrir-type apex wolves."
"Therakine tigers."
"Skyborne serpents of elemental consciousness."
Heron added casually:
"Even things like cloud-eating constructs and mountain-rooted entities."
Imuis nodded once.
"They all coexisted within the same layered landmass."
Heron leaned forward slightly.
"One side of the world had surface-bound races."
"Other side had structured human civilizations."
"But borders weren't absolute."
Imuis corrected softly:
"They were negotiated."
Heron laughed once.
"Sometimes violently."
---
Nocth blinked slowly.
His mind tried to visualize it.
Not the words.
But the concept.
A world where everything wasn't separated into survival tiers.
Where existence didn't immediately define hierarchy.
---
Heron's tone dropped again.
"And then came him."
Imuis added:
"The one whose Thread affinity manifested as Rune-Flame Construction."
Heron nodded.
"He didn't just use Threads."
"He shaped them into physical law structures."
Imuis continued:
"He could construct runes that became real phenomena."
"Not illusions."
"Actual imposed reality frameworks."
Heron whistled lightly.
"And the weird part?"
He leaned back.
"The world responded to him."
---
Nocth's eyes narrowed slightly.
"…Responded?"
Imuis nodded.
"As if granting him resonance permission beyond normal limits."
Heron raised a hand.
"Unlimited energy supply too."
"Not normal Thread energy."
"Something deeper."
Imuis chose the term carefully:
"…Celestial-derived force."
Heron shrugged.
"Basically the world said: 'fine, you can do whatever you want, just fix things.'"
---
A silence followed.
Then Imuis spoke more quietly:
"And he did."
Heron added:
"He united factions."
"Beast clans."
"Human territories."
"Even those hybrid spiritual races that couldn't decide what they were."
Imuis continued:
"For a period…"
"…conflict stabilized."
Heron's voice softened:
"It was the closest thing to peace this world has ever recorded."
---
Nocth's gaze lowered slightly.
Something in his chest tightened again.
Not anger this time.
Something more uncertain.
Like trying to imagine peace as a physical place he had never visited.
---
Heron's expression darkened slightly.
"But then…"
Imuis finished the sentence.
"The barrier fell."
---
The room felt colder after those words.
Even the projection flickered slightly, as if reacting to memory pressure.
Heron exhaled slowly.
"Not a normal breach."
Imuis corrected:
"A structural collapse between spatial layers."
Heron nodded.
"Yeah."
"Other existences started leaking in."
---
Nocth's posture subtly stiffened.
Heron continued.
"At first…"
"Things like humanoid-beast hybrids."
Imuis added:
"They called themselves sub-tribes of the Anki classification."
Heron shrugged.
"They weren't friendly."
Imuis voice hardened slightly:
"They claimed colonization intent."
Heron gave a dry laugh.
"They got corrected."
---
Nocth listened without interrupting.
His hands were still clenched.
But less tightly now.
Like he was holding onto understanding instead of anger.
---
Heron's tone shifted again.
"Then came something else."
Imuis continued:
"Technological humanoid entities."
Heron added:
"Humans."
A pause.
Nocth's eyes flickered sharply.
"…Humans?"
Heron nodded.
"Not from here."
"Not from any known lineage."
Imuis added:
"They used artificial body exosuits."
"Energy projection weaponry."
"Indestructible reinforcement fields."
Heron smirked faintly.
"Back then, no one even believed humans existed outside the known sphere."
"So seeing them…"
He shrugged.
"Shocked everyone."
---
Nocth's mind flickered.
A strange pressure rose behind his thoughts.
Faint imagery.
Bright artificial lights.
Voices.
A distant sensation of something familiar yet unreachable.
He frowned slightly.
---
Heron's voice dropped.
"Then it escalated."
Imuis continued:
"Repeated incursions."
"Different origin systems."
"Different laws of power."
Heron added:
"Not all of them even called it Thread usage."
Imuis nodded.
"It became survival warfare."
Heron looked at Nocth directly now.
"And people started dying in ways no one understood anymore."
---
Nocth's jaw tightened again.
But this time, he didn't interrupt.
---
Heron's voice softened.
"Half the world's landmass was damaged during that era."
Imuis added quietly:
"Entire races vanished."
Heron exhaled.
"And if that central existence…"
He paused.
"…hadn't intervened again…"
He didn't finish the sentence.
He didn't need to.
---
Silence stretched.
---
Nocth finally spoke again.
"…So Soul-Extraction Arms…"
His voice was quieter now.
Not angry.
More grounded.
"…came from those invaders."
Heron nodded.
"Yeah."
Imuis confirmed:
"A remnant adaptation of external existence systems."
Heron added:
"And nobles got greedy."
---
Nocth's eyes narrowed slightly.
"…Greedy?"
Heron shrugged.
"Power doesn't stay forbidden forever if people think it works."
Imuis added:
"So they integrated it into controlled systems."
Heron sighed.
"And now the Guild Celestial Cooperation group handles hunting those who still use it."
Imuis clarified:
"Righteous-bound enforcement organization."
Heron smirked faintly:
"They like long names for moral justification."
---
Nocth looked down again.
His expression wasn't angry anymore.
It was heavier.
More thoughtful.
---
Heron finally leaned back fully.
"…Look."
He said more gently now.
"Don't overthink it too much."
Imuis added:
"Not all records are confirmed."
Heron shrugged.
"Some of it might be myth."
Imuis looked at Nocth.
"But myth usually comes from something that existed first."
---
Nocth remained silent.
But inside—
Something was moving.
Not understanding yet.
But recognition of depth.
---
Then—
A knock came at the door.
---
Fast.
Uneven.
Almost frantic.
---
A young voice followed immediately.
"HERON!"
---
The door nearly burst open.
A teenage boy stumbled in, bent forward, hands on his knees, gasping for breath.
His clothes were simple—patched utility fabric, worn boots, a half-torn satchel hanging off one shoulder.
Dust clung to his sleeves like he had run through half the district.
He inhaled sharply.
Exhaled.
Inhaled again.
Trying—and failing—to stabilize his breathing.
---
Heron groaned.
"…You didn't knock."
The boy wheezed:
"I DIDN'T HAVE TIME—"
Heron pointed lazily.
"Bad excuse."
---
Imuis sighed.
Nocth watched silently.
---
Heron squinted.
"…You look like you fought a storm."
The boy shook his head rapidly.
"No—no—it's—"
He bent again, hands on knees.
"I—Alehouse—something happened—bad—really bad—"
---
Heron's expression shifted.
Just slightly.
Imuis straightened.
Nocth's gaze sharpened.
---
The boy tried again, breath breaking between words.
"…people are missing…"
"…and it's not normal…"
---
A pause.
The room changed temperature again.
---
Heron's joking tone vanished.
"…Say that properly."
---
The boy lifted his head slightly.
Fear clear in his eyes now.
"…It's the Alehouse."
"…something… is wrong there."
---
Silence fell instantly.
---
Nocth and Imuis exchanged a single glance.
Heron's face darkened.
---
And for the first time since the map had opened…
No one in the room spoke.