Suuuu,
It was the mont Cheon Miryeo scattered into the starlight.
The light that had filled Seol Hwi’s vision dimd.
The afterimage before his eyes slowly faded, and the familiar white space revealed its contours again.
“……”
At its center, an old man stood.
Still in the sa place, as if he had been there from the beginning.
“It seems you’ve finally put your mind in order.”
His voice was calm like an old dawn, the silence that fills the gap when the world catches its breath.
Not admiration nor comfort, but a tone carrying the deep understanding only soone who’s watched for a long ti could have.
“Put my mind in order?”
Seol Hwi asked quietly. His voice still trembled.
It was because the warmth of the mont he had sent Cheon Miryeo away had not yet fully faded.
“Your decision to send her away. At that mont, your last remaining heart must have been emptied as well, no?”
What was contained in those words was not a simple judgnt or reproach.
It was a deep, quiet understanding that only soone who has long watched the weight of a heart could possess.
“Return. Now as an Earth Demon, as Seol Hwi. And live as a god.”
The old man slowly turned. His robe fluttered faintly even in the windless space.
“Don’t co here again.”
The words were not an order but more like a heartfelt plea. Thus the old man’s back began to recede.
“……It’s not settled yet.”
He faltered.
The old man’s step froze as if planted to the spot. Even the flutter of his robe ceased.
A long silence passed.
He slowly, very slowly turned his head. The movent was so slow it seed frozen.
“You made a choice, didn’t you?”
“Yes.”
“You sent her knowing she would die, and yet you still have lingering attachnt?”
The old man knew. He knew the final thread of feeling Seol Hwi had left for Cheon Miryeo.
His choice to let her go at that last mont, knowing she would die, was a kind of farewell.
An expression of his final will to live as a god and no longer harbor attachnt to Cheon Miryeo.
The old man read it that way.
“Sss—”
Seol Hwi took a deep breath. Cold air filled his lungs. No, strictly speaking, it wasn’t air. There was no air in this place.
Only the act of breathing remained as a conscious thing.
“Her future… was death.”
That single sentence split the silence.
The old man’s eyes narrowed.
“…So now you want to save her?”
“Yes.”
He was resolute. There was no more tremor in Seol Hwi’s voice.
The old man did not answer. A mont of silence passed. His face showed no change, no incredulity, anger, or pity.
“If that was the plan, you shouldn’t have sent her.”
The old man looked up into the void.
Where his gaze fell there was neither distant sky nor walls. Only countless strands of ti flowed.
“If that was how you felt, why not keep her close and watch over her? There was no need to send her to the battlefield in the first place.”
There was neither reproach nor pity in his voice, only a statent of logical consequence.
“Above all, you sent her to the battlefield. That was a choice already made. It’s a path of no return.”
Silence.
Seol Hwi’s voice quietly cut through that silence.
“I know there is a way to return.”
In the white space the old man’s gaze trembled briefly.
Then silence rose. It was as if ti itself had stopped for a mont.
For the first ti a clear emotion surfaced on the old man’s face: vigilance, surprise, and fear.
“…What you’re saying now—”
The old man’s voice changed.
For the first ti calm receded into sothing deeper, sothing colder.
“Do you even understand what you’re saying?”
“Yes.”
Seol Hwi’s eyes sank deep. There was no longer any hesitation in them.
“What you’ve shown is not a mory.”
“……”
“It’s the ti you’ve seen. The vantage point that contemplates every mont.”
Seol Hwi knew.
If the old man had rely rummaged through mories, he should not have acted.
He should have stood like a transparent ghost, a contemplator watching the past flow.
But Seol Hwi had moved.
He had embraced Cheon Miryeo, felt her warmth, talked with her, and wiped her tears.
And finally, he had sent her away.
Things an observer in mory cannot do.
This ant only one thing.
What the old man showed was not recollection but an actual slice of ti.
And that ant that ti itself could be manipulated.
“……”
The old man’s face contorted very slightly.
The face of an emotionless being showed a crack for the first ti.
Like a perfect mirror cracking, an imperceptible agitation of soone whose long-hidden secret has been exposed.
“…And?”
The old man opened his mouth.
His voice remained calm, but beneath that calm lay sothing else.
“I will enter that mont, into the place Cheon Miryeo entered.”
“……”
The old man’s neck moved slowly.
That motion was so slow it took a long ti before he raised his head to face Seol Hwi directly.
“Your will is firm.”
As if reading Seol Hwi’s determination, he briefly turned his gaze elsewhere.
“Originally, it’s impossible.”
And then ca a warning heavier than thunder.
“I am an observer outside of ti, so I cannot intervene. But if it’s you… yes, you might be different.”
A strange change began to appear in the old man’s eyes.
Emotionless eyes.
Yet that gaze carried weight.
For it was the look of one who had watched thousands of worlds and tens of thousands of fates.
“You’ve entered the realm of gods, and you are also the ‘you’ of that ti. So you can enter, as you say.”
Each word was etched into the space.
With every word, fate seeped forth.
“But.”
Whoosh.
The old man took a step forward.
No, the distance between him and Seol Hwi suddenly shrank.
The space itself compressed.
“The mont you take a step into that place, no one knows what will beco of the you of now.”
The words were quiet but cruel.
Sharp like a blade and cold like ice.
“The you of now, the you who stood as a god, all that you have accumulated to reach this place.”
The old man’s eyes sank deeper.
“It ans you could lose all of it. That includes your very existence. In the worst case…”
He reached his hand into the void.
Countless strands of light flowed between his fingers.
They were threads of ti.
“You could be extinguished. Your past self. Your present self, both.”
Seol Hwi did not waver.
Rather, his gaze grew even firr.
Instead of fear, a calm belonging only to soone who had already decided the end shone through.
Like a rock that does not move when waves hit it.
“I am prepared.”
The old man’s throat trembled slightly.
A flicker of form.
It was the first ti the god who observed space-ti was stirred by sothing.
“This is madness…”
The old man’s voice sank low.
“Soone who knows the weight of ti so well, why leap into it yourself?”
“I never wanted to beco a god in the first place.”
Seol Hwi’s words were calm.
Within that calm lay deep sincerity.
“I only wanted a chance. It didn’t have to be fair, but I wanted it to be just.”
“……”
“To gain power.”
“……”
“To endure.”
“……”
“So I would no longer be trampled.”
His gaze drifted away.
All the lives he had lived flashed across his eyes.
The tis he was weak.
Monts when he was crushed beneath soone’s foot.
Every mont he clenched his teeth and rose up.
Power piled up through bleeding.
And before he knew it, he had reached the ranks of the gods.
“And so, before I knew it, I stood in this place.”
Seol Hwi lifted his head and looked the old man straight in the eye. Very quietly, in the most human voice.
“So I want to return. Not as soone who stands above others, just as one person.”
“…As a human, not a god?”
“Yes.”
“Even though the possibility of your very existence disappearing is very high?”
“That too is life.”
Seol Hwi did not waver.
In his eyes was not fear but the calm of one who had already decided the end.
“I am prepared.”
Silence.
A long, long silence passed.
In the space where ti had stopped, that silence felt like an eternity.
He nodded.
Then the old man broke that silence.
“…You are truly a strange being.”
He let out a sound that was either a sigh or admiration.
For a being without emotion, it was a very human resonance.
“Most would reign as gods in the worlds they created.”
“That’s just his world, not a life, isn’t it?”
“Just a world, not a life…”
At that, the old man’s mouth curved into an expression for the first ti.
It was a laugh.
A very faint, barely visible smile.
For a mont, he too was enlightened.
Sublimity.
Heading toward a path where one’s very existence may be erased, why such a feeling should arise.
Even the god who observed space-ti felt sothing, if only in this mont.
“Yes.”
The old man nodded.
“Perhaps this is the image of you I saw through the bars of space-ti.”
His gaze turned to a far, distant place.
A place where countless strands of ti unfolded.
A place where past, present, and future exist simultaneously.
Among the countless players, one figure had particularly drawn his attention.
A romance visible in a way that bordered on foolishness.
That was what moved the old man.
“Go. I will open the window of mory for you.”
Shuuuu,
The space began to change.
The walls of the white space warped, and sothing began to be visible beyond them.
Countless strands of light.
Rivers of ti.
“However…”
A low, heavy voice full of warning.
“The mont you cross that gate, the ‘after’ for you may cease to exist.”
Wheeeee!
“So sohow, in that life…”
“……”
“Survive.”
Seol Hwi smiled.
It was neither solemnity nor resignation.
It was simply a quiet hope.
“Yes.”
Bang!
And then the light burst.
Kraaaaaaash!
The space where ti had stopped shattered to pieces.
All the walls of the white space crumbled, revealing the truth hidden behind them.
Past, present, and future mixed together, forming a massive whirlpool.
Wheeeee!
At its center, Seol Hwi’s form began to scatter.
The old man stood there alone, watching Seol Hwi disappear.
His face remained emotionless.
But deep within his gaze, sothing flickered faintly.
Was it expectation?
Worry?
Or perhaps…
“……Farewell.”
His voice echoed through the empty space.
“Strange human.”
Shuuuuuu,
And all the light vanished.
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