From a pitch-black sky, a downpour of rain that was not too heavy nor too light fell, enshrouding the decimated cityscape below with a thin layer of mist.
Despite the entire place having been razed to the ground sohow, the sight of the endless rubble felt so familiar I could tell almost instinctively that it was Weinstell.
All that could be heard was the shower from above, hushed but powerful as if intentionally placed to fit the scene of utter devastation all around, and appearing even to like the tears of God.
I paused the playback.
Without even getting three seconds into the twelve-second video, it showcased such a trendous event in such a short span of ti that I couldn't even begin to imagine what had occurred.
Most importantly of all, however, was none of that.
In the centre of the fra, I saw myself, kneeling and stained in various places with blood. The clothes I wore, now almost unrecognisable through the drenching and obviously fresh liquids, were also slightly torn.
However, despite their permanent damage, I could clearly tell that it was originally the smart and expensive outfit I was currently wearing.
Judging by all the evidence in front of , I surmised; this scene takes place in the future.
That, or in an alternate reality.
Whatever the case, what my focus was naturally drawn to was surprisingly not the image of myself on death's door, nor the site of great disaster surrounding , but rather what―or who―I was holding in my arms.
"..."
The twins, Sana and Sona.
Snow-white hair that felt extrely soft to the touch.
Crimson eyes that imitated even the sparkle of flawless rubies.
In front of , I saw a pair of girls looking exactly the sa as the last ti I had seen them. That, as well as the state of my outfit, indicated the video took place not long into the future.
Gazing at their unique features through the screen of the smartphone, I recalled the ti I had first t them in that underground research facility.
Back then, I rember how I briefly wondered whether those vampire-like features were natural or environntally-induced.
Were they albino?
Or, did the white hair originate from the accumulated stress of daily human experintation?
I recall caring about the answer to that question for such a fleeting mont that it was as if I never cared at all.
Because, in reality, I didn't care.
That's why I never asked Truth the question, and even now, I don't know the answer.
And now, I can't know the answer anymore.
"..."
I stared at the girls' white hair. The hair I always called natural simply because.
Suddenly, I once again found myself subtly wishing that Truth hadn't up and left.
I don't know what exactly it was, but a bitter sort of feeling arose within my chest.
It was a familiar emotion, though I admittedly hadn't experienced it very often.
That's why, I knew.
It was a tinge of regret.
"...Is this it?"
Resuming the video, I watched it for about another six seconds with nothing happening but rain.
[...Please...]
Until suddenly, a voice pierced through.
[Don't go...]
At that mont, the playback ended.
"..."
My first instinctual thought was 'It's too short', and I imdiately replayed the video to the sa end result. I opened my mouth as if to complain, but I quickly cald myself.
I cald myself, and I played the video again.
[...Please...]
[Don't go...]
Upon first inspection, one might think it was the sa voice, but as the person perhaps most familiar, I knew that each line was a different twin speaking.
[...Please...]
[Don't go...]
Three words are all it was, but those three words stuck to my mind like the world's greatest adhesive, continuously replaying over and over.
[...Please...]
[Don't go...]
I was so focused on the words in my mind that I didn't realise I was restarting the video every ti it ended.
After watching the sa twelve-second video countless tis, I don't know what happened, but I suddenly jolted.
It hit like a truck out of the blue.
The twins.
They are the reason I'm here in this Otherworld in the first place.
They betrayed , stabbed in the back and tossed aside.
So.
'...Please...'
Why?
'Don't go...'
Why do they beg not to go in the video?
Why did they betray if they didn't want to leave?
I trusted them.
They know I trusted them.
And they knowingly betrayed my trust.
So, why are they saying this?
I don't understand.
And unlike if this were to have happened before, there is no way for to find out the answer to any of these questions without Truth.
Could it all be a misunderstanding?
Possibly, but I doubt it.
To assu it is a misunderstanding would be a mistake.
Rather than that, all I could do was confront them directly.
With Reality, I don't need anyone to protect anymore, and there's no need to be afraid of those with powerful abilities like the girls or the Wardens.
So, even if they joined hands to get , I wouldn't be in danger.
"..."
Would they have done that?
I couldn't know.
All this ti, I thought I had their utmost loyalty, their fidelity and devotion.
I couldn't understand why what happened, happened, and I fail to co up with a reason even now.
Ultimately, there is no point wasting ti thinking about it.
I also need to take so ti to process everything from the Magic Tower―the things that have been said, specifically in the trials of the final three floors, as well as the last ssage left behind by the Ancient Sage.
He knew a lot more about than I ever could've imagined, and he even had a phone with a recording of what I presu to be the future.
The revelation about the World Stages... I still couldn't tell if it was true, but I could at least accept the fact that my previous theory was wrong.
If Earth and the Otherworld were truly not equal as I previously thought, then soone like the Sage shouldn't be possible to exist.
A person born from the lower-existence world who was capable of far more than anyone I had ever seen on Earth, and whose knowledge and wisdom seed to stretch to an even greater extent.
Assuming the Sage's version of the theory is correct, then all worlds beneath that of the highest-existence world are equal, and even the gods of all worlds are nothing special.
Could I take that to an the world of the 'original creator'?
Since every world is born from the will or consciousness of a higher being, only the one who sits at the very top of the chain can be considered a true 'higher existence', or god.
That ans, everything I knew―or thought I knew―about the god of Earth called the Author.
Is it aningless?
According to the updated theory, it must be.
Above the Author―so far above that it cannot even be comprehended―there will be an unfathomable existence.
Not just a higher existence, but a highest existence whose level of power and authority cannot even be imagined.
Does that an, then, that everything is to the whim of that highest existence?
Everything I've gone through―
From invoking the presence of the Author in the Playground and unintentionally murdering the person who considered a friend;
To losing my mory, escaping the Playground and fleeing from the Wardens.
From surviving yet another assassination attempt, striking a deal with Minami, and rescuing Emir, Sana and Sona;
To letting myself be kidnapped and gaining the protection of Sophie Asanami.
All the effort I spent to raise devotion by doing events like Halloween, attending winter festivals, Christmas markets, fairs, and holding a birthday party.
All the people I killed or let die who stood in my way, like Avon Laura and Tarou Fushigimi.
From figuring out that two people had co back from an alternate future tiline just to stop .
All the way to finding out the truth of the world―that no one was 'real', rely fictional characters created to fit the world established by a higher being, the Author.
When I found that out, I wondered if that was what was ant by 'fate'.
Was it all predetermined?
Was it the will of the Author to have everything occur as it did?
All of it, absolutely everything, and all that happened in between.
Of course, there was no ti for to receive an answer, because I was swiftly betrayed and banished to the Otherworld.
At that ti, I thought it was pretty much over.
I thought that, because I found out the truth, I was immune to the fraudulent "fate" I was said to experience.
But now...
Now, I'm thinking that things might be different.
Perhaps, could it be―could it be that everything, from the very beginning all the way to even this second―that it was all planned?
Originally, I thought there would be no way.
Even if it was sothing like the Author, it shouldn't be possible to manipulate my every thought and action even after I beco fully aware of it all.
It doesn't make logical sense, and there's simply no way it could be true.
After all, using the original Theory of World Stages, the Author would only be classified as being one or perhaps two world stages above , and that shouldn't be anywhere close to enough for that level of power.
I was confident in that because I myself was one world stage above the Otherworld, and yet I wouldn't stand a chance against any of the countless threats that reside here if it weren't for Reality.
Thus, for to be incorrect, either my reasoning to conclude that my thoughts and actions weren't being controlled had to be wrong, or my theory itself was wrong.
And now that the Theory had been proven faulty, I had to reevaluate my judgent.
Supposing all worlds and beings are equal, it ans the only being capable of what I said must be the highest existence.
The highest existence who plotted everything from before the beginning, exactly as it was.
If it did so, then it could also very well be capable of controlling the flow of everything even into the future.
My thoughts and actions―were they being manipulated by the highest existence, who directed the flow of 'fate' itself?
It was a nightmarish notion, but one I couldn't seem to get out of my head.
I simply couldn't imagine it being true, even if I were to hold a mirror against myself and strictly reflect inward.
All my thoughts felt as natural as they had ever been, and there was nothing suspicious to indicate that I was being controlled or manipulated in any way.
But then, I realised.
Couldn't that obstruction of cognisance itself be regarded as possible manipulation?
After all, if I could realise I was being manipulated just by thinking about it, then it wouldn't be a very good manipulation.
However, reaching this point, I reasoned that by being able to think this deeply about it, I must be free of any kind of ntal manipulation. Because, if you didn't want soone to notice they were being manipulated, all you need to do is make them unable to think too deeply about it.
But, I was thinking deeply―therefore, I wasn't being manipulated.
That's when I hit an unsurpassable wall.
By thinking about it, I concluded that I wasn't being manipulated.
However, by coming to that very conclusion, I feared I was being too hasty and stopped myself.
Because I could never know if the conclusion I ca to was a result of my own, individual thinking, or the influence of the highest existence.
It was an unsolvable paradox; and a dilemma I couldn't possibly reason my way out of.
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