The Giant of Light stood upon the land.
The radiance that covered its body wasn't a harsh, blinding glare—it had the weight of years, like molten amber flowing in slow rivers, carrying the thickness of time and a sanctity that defied explanation.
The air around it warped subtly, as though the world itself had been dyed by that viscous gold.
Closer in, its surface wasn't smooth.
Upon careful inspection, it was woven from innumerable finer streams of brighter gold—alive, twisting and braiding. They gathered into thick bundles like colossal spinal cables, layered, coiled, knotted, and pulsing.
It should have evoked the sight of muscle stripped bare—bloody, grotesque.
Yet the omnipresent light gilded everything in solemn gold, peeling away every frightening association until only a heavy, wordless holiness remained.
The microstreams that formed those luminous cables never stopped.
They swayed, extended, and danced without fatigue—like billions of golden tendrils probing the void.
From a distance, the entire giant looked as though it were wrapped in an eternal amber flame.
Like a star—forced by some invisible will into a humanoid silhouette—burning silently and endlessly.
On Jarilo-VI, every remaining intelligent lifeform's will, strength, memory, their last scraps of hope and the despair that devoured them—had been forcibly smelted into one, becoming this Giant of Light.
Could it still be called "Cocolia"?
No.
Before Bronya became light and crashed into the black crystalline cross, she had already sensed the truth:
At the instant her mother fused with the shattered corpse of Mirror, the fragile soul that had once been Cocolia Rand was like a droplet thrown into a star—unable to withstand the shock of that higher "rank," it was annihilated completely.
What remained was only an empty shell—one that inherited all of Cocolia's memories.
And what drove that shell was a single obsession, sharpened to near-madness:
Protect Belobog—at any cost.
Perhaps the more accurate name was:
Cocolia, the Genesis Giant.
The moment Mirror's remnants fused with every mind in Belobog, the resulting energy signature swept across the cosmos like a thunderclap.
Every existence that had been frantically hunting Mirror's fragments since its fall felt it—precisely, unmistakably.
In the IPC's Strategic Investment Division, a massive central display played footage of the amber giant. Every pulse of its luminous flow tugged at the nerves of those watching.
Beside it, a short assessment report sat open:
Jarilo-VI Assessment ReportAsset ID: Y-GI-056151Debt Overdue: 700 yearsAsset Rating: Extremely Poor (Previously classified as a dead asset)Recommended Handling: … (cursor blinking, awaiting input)
Jade crossed her arms, fingers tapping idly against her sleeve.
An object the IPC had spent immense resources trying—and failing—to locate… had appeared on a planet that had already been declared "dead," marked as a worthless asset, and forgotten in some dusty corner of the database.
It was absurd.
It was also a gift from the Amber Lord.
"Topaz."
Her voice wasn't loud, yet it cut through the chaos of the office with commanding clarity.
A smaller comms screen lit up instantly, showing Topaz's face.
"In."
The Yellow Amber Stoneheart—famed for collecting impossible debts—still wore her familiar confident smile, but her eyes were serious.
"Target: Belobog. First—if there are survivors to salvage, recover the debt; if necessary, execute asset liquidation. Second—assess and secure Mirror's remnant. Depart immediately."
"Understood, Jade."
The screen went dark.
On Topaz's end, her fingers were already sliding rapidly over the panel showing Jarilo-VI's data.
"A dead asset turning into a hot potato…"
Her eyes flicked from the "extremely poor" rating to the giant's footage.
"No—turning into a priceless distressed asset."
Her smile returned, sharper now.
She adjusted the edge of her glove out of habit, then sent her voice through an encrypted channel to the IPC's massive fleet formation:
"Directive confirmed. Debt collection priority raised to maximum. Target: Jarilo-VI. Initiate planetary-level asset preservation protocol. And…"
Her tone hardened.
"Secure ownership of Mirror's remnant at all costs. Execute immediately."
Engines roared in silence as the fleet tore open space, locking onto the coordinates of the frozen world.
At the same time, the Xianzhou Luofu—only two jumps away—
Inside the Seat of Divine Foresight, Jing Yuan sat alone at a棋board, holding a piece suspended above the grid, perfectly still.
Without a sound, the air before him twisted, sketching a small yet imposing figure into existence—
Fu Xuan, the Diviner.
"General. The Matrix of Prescience has captured an abnormal surge—its signature highly consistent with what we've reconstructed of Mirror's remnant. The source is being triangulated…"
Her eyes sharpened.
"Locked. Jarilo-VI."
A second projection unfolded above the棋board:
Frozen land. Howling wind. And standing upon it—an amber giant burning like a bound star.
The image zoomed, focusing on the deep black crystalline cross embedded in its chest.
Click.
Jing Yuan finally placed his piece—an apparently irrelevant move, gentle and quiet.
His voice remained calm.
"Transmit this intelligence and Jarilo-VI's coordinates to the other Xianzhou ships at highest priority."
"Also issue orders: all Cloud Knights enter Level-One readiness. Warm up the Delve Engines. Set jump coordinates—"
He paused, gaze steady on the burning giant.
"Target: Jarilo-VI. Mission: contain Mirror's remnant. If containment is assessed as impossible, or if uncontrolled risk is confirmed…"
Half a beat of silence.
"…eradicate the entire star system."
His tone never wavered.
Compared to the catastrophe of a heliobus seizing Mirror's remnant—replaying ancient possession disasters across the Xianzhou—some nameless surface civilization was lighter than dust.
A millennium of survival allowed no hesitation, no mercy. Jing Yuan had long since grown used to carrying such choices.
In Jarilo-VI's orbit, the Astral Express could see the amber giant directly through the Observation Car's window.
Himeko stood before the glass, her coffee long since gone cold—she didn't notice.
Her gaze pierced the void, locked tightly on the giant. The elegant ease she usually carried had been replaced by gravity.
"This is out of control, Welt."
"The power…" she exhaled, helplessness threading her voice. "It's likely beyond what we can handle."
Beside her, Welt Yang—who had walked through countless storms across countless worlds—also frowned. Worry sharpened behind his lenses.
"The Stellaron's signature… is gone. Has the giant completely suppressed it? Covered it? Devoured it?"
Then his voice dropped, heavy as stone.
"The obstruction on the route is gone. The Stellaron's lockdown has been lifted."
He turned, decisive.
"Pom-Pom. Depart immediately. Full speed back to Herta Space Station. We need Herta's intervention—now."
He pushed his glasses up with a sharp motion; the lenses reflected that cold, holy, terrifying light.
The will of Trailblaze did not abandon its companions.
Himeko drew a deep breath as if forcing her unease down by sheer discipline. She lifted her communicator, fingers flying.
"Asta. We need Herta to intervene immediately. The situation is extremely dangerous."
Her contact list scrolled rapidly.
At this moment, the network Trailblazers had built over years finally showed its worth.
And the eyes peering toward Jarilo-VI were not limited to them.
A Destruction beacon from the Antimatter Legion flickered alive in the void. Private observatories belonging to members of the Genius Society powered up. Hidden channels across the galaxy stirred.
Countless forces—overt and covert—opened their eyes like deep-sea beasts smelling blood, turning greed, curiosity, caution, and annihilation toward a frozen world that had, until now, been nothing more than cosmic dust.
The Genesis Giant's birth drew the attention of every existence with the power to shake the universe.
And two gazes—bearing wills strong enough to reshape the galaxy—pierced endless distance, preparing to descend.
One belonged to Nanook, Aeon of Destruction.
To Nanook, the Genesis Giant's paradoxical nature—forced aggregation, destruction and rebirth welded together—was far more fitting to bear the "Destruction of Harmony" mandate than any contemporary Emanator forged by Nanook's own hand.
Nanook's glance carried a Destruction boon vast enough to elevate a mortal into an Emanator in a heartbeat, ripping space as it fell toward the burning giant.
The other belonged to Xipe, Aeon of Harmony.
To Xipe's perception, the Genesis Giant had achieved a feat even Harmony found striking:
Countless independent wills had been forcibly made one.
Xipe's intent flowed with approval—like an invisible symphony—and it extended an invitation: join Harmony, become an Emanator, share eternal resonance.
Two supreme wills were about to touch the burning giant—
And in that instant—
From within the cross embedded in the Genesis Giant's chest, the last remnant of Cocolia's obsession erupted:
Protect Belobog's survival—no matter the price.
It rejected all invitations.
No crown of Destruction.
No hymn of Harmony.
Its only purpose was to finish the final mission the dead soul had left behind.
The amber flame around the giant suddenly collapsed inward, compressing, condensing—
Then an invisible pulse exploded outward faster than light, covering all of Jarilo-VI.
In Nanook's golden pupils, the scene shattered and warped.
Nanook no longer saw a burning giant on the icefield.
Nanook saw only Nanook—an infinite, monumental body that embodied the universe's end.
Xipe's layered chorus touched Jarilo-VI—and what returned was only Xipe's own boundless harmony.
Jarilo-VI had become a mirror.
The Genesis Giant drew upon the Path of the Human Heart and turned the entire planet into a vast conceptual reflective surface.
Every external observation, every窥探, every will-projection and attempted interference—no matter how terrifying the source—was forcibly distorted, copied, and rebounded the moment it touched that mirror.
Observers did not see reality.
They saw themselves.
Even an Aeon's gaze was deceived.
Jarilo-VI was, for a time, as though it had been erased from the universe.
How could the Genesis Giant be strong enough to block an Aeon's glance?
To understand its strength, one must begin with Cocolia's original strength.
She had once been trapped in the Stellaron's whisper, then "reborn" within Mirror's illusion, ultimately walking two Paths at once:
Preservation as her main road—the foundation of protecting Belobog.
The Human Heart as her method—how she gathered will and directed power.
She controlled hearts to preserve more efficiently, more precisely.
And as she dragged Mirror's remnant fragment from Between Hearts—inch by inch—toward reality, her mastery over the Human Heart Path surged with it.
At the final moment, she could already integrate every surviving Belobogian's stubborn Preservation will into a single force—power enough to shake stars, undeniably planet-breaking.
And yet—
It wasn't enough.
Not even close.
Before a behemoth like the IPC, that power was still paper-thin.
She could not protect Belobog.
Nor could she protect Mirror's remnant as a bargaining chip.
A man is innocent—until he carries jade.
But Cocolia, long corroded by the Stellaron, did something even after she "grew":
She counter-corroded the Stellaron.
In despair, she discovered its essence—
Harmony.
But unlike Xipe's Harmony—an invitation that respects the individual's choice—the Stellaron's Harmony was forced fusion.
It forcibly merges all existence, all concepts, regardless of will, into a chaotic, indistinct whole.
That was why worlds with a Stellaron have their Trailblaze routes cut off.
A Stellaron was Harmony's cancer.
And that cancer—its "super fusion" nature—became the chip Cocolia could gamble everything on.
Win everything.
Or lose everything.
She used the Stellaron's forced fusion to merge herself with Mirror's remnant fragment, stepping directly into an Emanator-level domain.
But that was only the beginning.
The Human Heart Path, in the Star Rail universe, had not fully manifested. It was a false Path still trying to become real.
To take root, it had to rip core concepts from four true Paths:
Preservation, Remembrance, Propagation, Harmony.
So—what vital materials did the Genesis Giant fuse?
The Engine of Creation—an extension of Qlipoth's creative force, and the accumulated Preservation will of Belobog's people who had walked Preservation for centuries.
To the IPC these might be "inferior stones," but they were undeniably real conceptual essence of Preservation.
Two Stellarons.
As twisted cancers of Harmony, their forced fusion trait represented the extreme, devouring side of Harmony's concept.
March 7th, the Immaculate Vessel.
Before Fuli the Remembrance was born, every Immaculate Vessel carried the possibility of becoming the Remembrance Aeon. March could represent a slice of Remembrance's conceptual core.
And finally—
Firefly.
Beyond Tayzzyronth, the Propagation Aeon, there was no one who had walked Propagation farther than Firefly. No one. She carried Propagation's living "right to interpret" in the current universe.
Thus, Preservation's tenacity, Remembrance's record, Propagation's refusal of loneliness, and Harmony's forced fusion—fragments of four true Paths—were welded into the Genesis Giant's core like four pillars holding up a newborn sky.
The Human Heart Path—once only theory, rootless and unreal—was forced into existence by tearing pieces from four great Paths.
For the first time, it manifested within the Star Rail universe.
Small, incomplete—
Yet undeniably real.
The universe's laws began to recognize it.
And by the iron rule of this cosmos:
When a Path truly exists, the one who has walked it farthest ascends to become…
An Aeon.
Who stood at the apex of the Human Heart Path now?
A native of this universe would answer without hesitation:
Mirror—the being that had nearly claimed the Human Heart's godseat.
But Mirror was not an authentic climber of the Path.
It was an incomprehensibly vast "outside" existence forcing itself down into the universe, attempting to seize the seat by sheer rank and mass.
It was a being made to be the Human Heart Aeon—not a being who became one by walking the Path.
If it succeeded, it would seize the highest interpretive authority and redefine the Path's standards—warping it, the way Tayzzyronth's insect nature distorted Propagation.
But it failed.
Therefore, within the universe's native rules—
The true frontrunner of this newborn Human Heart Path, the one who had walked farthest—
Was the being now fused from the four Paths' conceptual shards, carrying Cocolia's final obsession—
Cocolia, the Genesis Giant.
It possessed Aeon-level rank.
It possessed a real Path.
At this moment, the Genesis Giant was indisputably an Aeon-class combat entity.
It used Propagation's replication nature—borrowed from Firefly—to build a conceptual mirror so dense it could block and rebound an Aeon's glance.
Naturally, it was possible.
But the universe's gazes, after a brief shock, would only grow greedier and more wary.
And that violated Cocolia Rand's final wish:
Belobog must be peaceful.
Undisturbed.
So the Genesis Giant slowly raised its enormous right hand.
It extended one finger and placed it gently before its lips.
Silence.
March 7th's dormant power—belonging to the mysterious Path, the Emanator Long Night Moon—was forcibly requisitioned.
That power was thrown into the mirror-sea the giant had constructed—
And in an instant, billions upon billions of mirrors began to reflect, replicate, stack, and amplify themselves infinitely.
A tide of forgetting—faster than light—swept across the entire known universe.
Nanook's colossal presence paused in the void.
A faint thread of confusion flickered through those golden eyes—like sand slipping through fingers.
Then, indifferent and without attachment, Nanook turned away toward another region marked for ignition.
Xipe's overlapping chorus rippled once—so faint it almost didn't exist—like a calm lake briefly wrinkled by wind and smoothed again.
Xipe's attention flowed naturally to other melodies waiting to join.
Inside the Astral Express, the jump engine's hum was already primed.
Himeko's long fingers hovered over the destination input, and a brief blankness crossed her face.
Where were they going again?
Welt Yang adjusted his glasses by habit, and for a heartbeat, a strange emptiness opened behind his eyes—
Something important… had been forgotten?
On the Xianzhou, the Cloud Knights' Level-One readiness abruptly calmed. In the Divination Commission, the Matrix of Prescience returned to endless computation.
The Antimatter Legion's flood—rushing toward Jarilo-VI's coordinates—stalled, then turned, surging toward a different target marked for destruction.
Members of the Genius Society tilted their heads slightly, then returned to unrelated work.
The tide of forgetting washed every corner.
All information, intent, and connections tied to that storm-wrapped world were gently—completely—erased.
As if it had never existed.
Never been noticed.
Only one exception remained.
Topaz—one of the Ten Stonehearts—stood relaxed by her ship's panoramic window, swirling a glass of amber liquid.
On her navigation display, Jarilo-VI's coordinates still blinked clearly.
Her understanding of that planet—its history, resources, plight, mission parameters, projected commercial blueprint, cold evaluation data, and potential return rates—
All of it remained intact, stored cleanly in her mind and her ship's databases.
Because within Cocolia's final wish, the IPC was meant to be Belobog's first stepping stone into the stars.
Now, with every other gaze silenced, an invisible cosmic barrier forged, and the dust of forgetting settled—
The Genesis Giant turned its vast head toward the quiet planet beneath its feet.
It was time.
Phase One of Cocolia Rand's will:
Reshape the homeland.
The giant extracted the Engine of Creation's core terraforming concept.
A miniature embodiment of Qlipoth's creative force—symbolizing molding, stabilizing, reinforcing.
Now, under near-infinite Human Heart power, that concept was forced outward, copied and expanded without limit.
The long natural processes—geological change, climate regulation—were skipped.
The result was reached directly.
The giant lifted its right foot and placed it down upon the scarred earth.
Clang.
A booming strike like a hammer on the world's foundation rang directly through the soul.
Jarilo-VI trembled—violently, yet gently.
And the miracle began.
The endless snow and ice that had buried Jarilo-VI for seven hundred years melted at visible speed—like morning frost under sudden sun.
White peeled away, revealing the deep brown earth that had slept for centuries.
Frozen rivers cracked with sharp reports as turbid meltwater began to roar.
Ancient, ice-sealed plant husks weathered and vanished, while stubborn moss and new shoots unfurled across wet soil like a life-painting accelerated ten thousandfold.
Sunlight poured down without obstruction.
The choking cold was replaced by warm, damp air that smelled of mud and rebirth.
Ice receded. Life returned.
But it also meant that beneath the thawed layers, the Antimatter Legion—frozen for seven hundred years—was waking.
If they transmitted a signal, the endless Legion would descend again, strangling hope in its cradle.
The giant did not care.
The moment any signal tried to escape the atmosphere, the mirror-barrier reflected it perfectly.
The Legion beyond the planet received nothing.
And even if information did leak, the forgetting had already rewritten recognition itself.
The Legion would never remember these coordinates again.
As for the void soldiers waking on the planet?
Within the black crystal cross, Dan Heng's Imbibitor Lunae power surged.
Water—meltwater, floodwater—did not flow randomly.
It gathered, rose, and took form as if endowed with will.
Clear torrents became countless Eastern azure dragons—nimble, scaled, and roaring—diving with precision onto every soldier clawing out of the thawing earth.
Claws tore armor. Water spears pierced energy cores.
The newly awakened Legion died like insects beneath a divine flood, unable to organize resistance before being shredded into dissipating imaginary energy.
A handful of stronger units escaped the first sweep and tried to gather, snarling threats into the wind.
Their answer was the fusion of those water-dragons in the sky.
The torrents converged into a single colossal azure dragon—so vast it could have wrapped around the planet's equator like a mythic world-serpent.
Its gigantic head lowered, cold eyes locking onto the insignificant remnants below.
One dive—
Pressure alone cracked the earth.
The survivors were pulverized, purified, erased beneath the flood that symbolized life—and carried absolute destruction.
Seven centuries of blizzards, and the Legion's buried threat, were gone.
The Genesis Giant did not pause.
The terraforming concept moved again.
Conceptual force sank into the planet's interior like an invisible hand.
Belobog's Underworld—hollowed by centuries of mining, an emblem of division and opposition—was seized and torn upward from the depths.
Earth roared, plates shifted, strata reshaped and lifted.
The vast voids carved by mining were filled instantly, compacted, reinforced.
The Underworld rose and locked into the Overworld's structure, merging cleanly.
It became a new outer district beyond Belobog's grand walls.
The physical barrier was erased.
Overworld and Underworld—finally, truly—became one.
For Bronya Rand's future inheritance, for the rebuilding of a unified Belobog, the road was paved with unbreakable stone.
The storm ended.
The land warmed.
The frozen threat was removed.
The wound of division was stitched shut.
Phase One of Cocolia Rand's will was complete—fulfilled by world-shaking power.
Phase Two began.
The Genesis Giant—
must now end itself.
Join here to read ahead.
In Star Rail, Ultra-Beast Armored — Have I Caught "Equilibrium"? l (Chapter 80)
Uma Musume, But I Only Have Five Years Left to Live (Chapter 178)
Zenless Zone Zero: I'm a Doctor, Not a Bangboo (Chapter 142)
Ben Tennyson Wants to Join the Justice League ( 126 )
TYPE-MOON: Redemption Beginning with the Holy Grail War (Chapter110)
Yu-Gi-Oh! — Transmigrated into the White Dragon Girl (Chapter181)
"Is this chat group even serious?" (Chapter103)
I, Lord Ravager, Utterly Loyal! (Chapter192)
Can Playing Games Save the World? 65
Crossover Anime Multiverse: The Demon Hunter of an Unnatural World 77
From Junkman to Wasteland 66
Weekly Refresh of Overpowered 31
I'm Grinding Proficiency Like 46
From Kiana, Lord Ravager, Onwa 173
Honkai: Is This Still the Prev 42
Elf: My Starter Pokémon Is Inc 65
Warhammer: My Primarch Is Remi 166
From Demon Slayer to Grand Ass 110
The Way the Umamusume Look at 68
Uma Musume, but My Cheat Power 190
Naruto: Weaving the Future, Be 65
Zenless Zone Zero, but Kamen R 76
Multiverse Crossover: The Perf 66
My Cyberpsycho Girlfriend 65
Uma Musume: The Dark Trainer 165
Uma Musume: A Calamity Born fr 156
I, a Reincarnation-Loop Player 81
The Violent Girl Group Is Beat 102
Uma Musume: The Horse Girl Who 66
Uma Musume: From Beginner 120
Becoming a Horse Girl, I Will 80
Uma Musume: I Want All 95
I Can Copy Unique Skills 84
Summoning an Evil God, but the 66
Supernatural Multiverse 83
My Harem Is Indescribable 75
Jujutsu Kaisen: Heroic Spirit 81
"I'm just a Valkyrie passing through." 67
Uma Musume: Today Is Another Romantic Battlefield 75
Still playing traditional Honk 55
The Most Filial Son Under Heav 60
What Should I Do After Switchi - Volume2/3
Reincarnated as a Demon, Skill 57
Hell-Difficulty Dungeon? 45
Transmigrated as Sukuna 55
Checking In in Demon Slayer 60
The Reincarnating Trainer of Tracen Academy 65
I Refuse to Become a Heroic 35
My Best Friend Into a Slime? 35
A Saiyan Stands Above Marvel 39
What Do You Mean by Using a Lab Mod to Be the Hero? 58
Tanya Starts from Re:Zero 30
Why did they assign me to Uma 35
MYGO Beauties 42
My patreon : patreon.com/queen_sin