"What are you trying to tell …?" Arthur whispered, his eyes fixated on the abyss below. His voice wavered between disbelief and curiosity. "Whoever—whatever—you are down there, what are you trying to say?"
The air around him had shifted. That sa still, dead air now felt alive, brimming with sothing he couldn't see but could feel in every bone. The whispers continued, barely audible but unmistakable. They weren't hallucinations—he was sure of that now. Sothing was speaking to him.
He strained his ears, leaning closer toward the void. It wasn't the first ti he'd looked into it, but it was the first ti he heard sothing from it. That change ant sothing. The God sealed below… was aware.
And more than that—it wanted to be heard.
'Is it asking for help?' he wondered. The whispers carried with them a strange weight, as if laced with sorrow. There was no rage, no madness in the voice. Only pain. Loneliness. Desperation.
"But Naless said it lost its mind a long ti ago…" Arthur muttered, his brow furrowed in disbelief. "He said the God beca nothing more than a beast, an empty shell. Could he have lied? Or worse… was he wrong?"
Logic warred with instinct. No being trapped in utter blackness for thousands of years should have anything left of themselves. The re sight of that void had nearly broken Arthur the first ti—just a glimpse had rattled his soul. How could a God survive in that prison? Let alone speak?
Yet the voice wasn't deranged. It didn't lash out or scream. It called to him, its whispers weaving through the silence like threads of ancient song.
Before Arthur could ponder it further—
BANG!
A thunderous crash echoed through the chamber, yanking Arthur violently from his thoughts. His head snapped toward the sound.
Naless.
He erged from a side tunnel, dragging behind him a line of prisoners. Shackled. Broken. The people of the Void—his people—marched out in single file, chains clinking with each step. Arthur's breath caught in his throat.
They were bruised, beaten, terrified. So limped. Others had dried blood on their clothes or faces. Despair clung to them like smoke.
Arthur's hands clenched into fists, shackles rattling as he surged forward. "Naless! Don't you dare! Let them go!" he roared.
Naless raised his arms as if addressing an audience, a sick grin plastered across his face. "Ah, Persona. I apologize for the wait. It took a mont to gather the stars of our little performance."
"Let them go, Naless! They have nothing to do with your madness!"
"Tsk tsk…" The man chuckled, his eyes gleaming with that sa maddening excitent. "You still don't get it, do you? They are everything to this mont. I've been building toward this for years. Decades. Every soul here—every ounce of pain they carry—will feed into the birth of a new age. And you, dear Persona, you're the witness. You're vital for the entire beautiful painting to be finished!"
Arthur could barely hear him. His focus had shifted. Among the prisoners, limping heavily and flanked by two larger n, was a face he recognized.
"Germa…"
The young man looked up at the sound of his na. His battered face twisted with shock and disbelief. "Sir?! What… What are you doing here?!"
"I ca to get you out of this," Arthur said quietly, with unwavering resolve.
"You shouldn't have co," Germa choked, tears mingling with the blood on his face. "You could've escaped, sir!! You can't do anything against him!"
Arthur didn't answer. He didn't need to. His presence here was already the answer.
Naless clasped his hands together, pretending to sob. "Such heartwarming devotion. Sniff. I almost don't want to go through with it."
"Then don't!" Arthur shouted. "You still have a choice!"
"No, no… There are no choices left." Naless's voice hardened. "The gears have turned, and destiny waits for no one."
He yanked the chains, dragging the prisoners toward the edge of the abyss. Arthur's heart dropped.
"No…" he whispered.
The platform trembled under their feet as they were lined up—right at the precipice, facing the endless void.
Naless turned to face them, arms spread as if presenting a play. "This is it, everyone. This is the mont that shifts the stars. Your souls will feed the awakening. Your screams will echo through ti as the last cries of the old world before the new one is born."
"You're insane!" one of the prisoners cried, a woman in her forties with tear-streaked cheeks.
"Insanity is a term for those who lack vision," Naless said. "I see clearly. I have never been able to see clearer than this mont!"
He stopped in front of Germa, a twisted smile on his lips.
"You," he said, tapping Germa on the forehead, "will be the first. Like your father before you, you will lead your people. Right into their fate. A befitting end, if you ask ."
Germa's body tensed. His legs resisted, digging into the stone. "My father died protecting people like you would trample. He gave everything to stop n like you. You think this is divine? It's a massacre. It's a betrayal of everything human."
Naless's smile never faded. "A necessary betrayal. Go on, then. Embrace your role."
With that, he shoved Germa forward.
The man stumbled, feet skidding. The edge lood closer. For a second, it seed like he would fall—but at the last mont, he regained his balance and stepped back.
He turned slowly to face Naless, eyes filled not with fear, but defiance. "You'll regret this. If you wake whatever's down there, you'll wish we killed you before it opened its eyes. This world doesn't need a God—that age is long gone."
"Oh, but that's where we differ," Naless said, his voice almost tender. "This world needs correction. Make sure to watch from the other side, Germa."
Then—swish—he vanished in an instant, only to reappear behind Germa. Without hesitation, he kicked him square in the back.
Germa was thrown forward, arms flailing.
"NO!!" Arthur scread.
Ti slowed.
He saw it all—the lurch of Germa's body, the flash of fear on his face, the way his form seed to stretch as he was swallowed by the abyss. His scream never ca. It was as if the darkness devoured sound along with light.
Arthur stood paralyzed. His eyes locked on the void, unable to look away.
In that mont, sothing inside him snapped.
A flood of mories surged through him. His childhood. His first encounter with the ga. Every friend, his struggles, dreams, lessons, and journey so far. He rembered it all like a beautiful movie from start to finish.
'I won't let this happen. I can't let this happen!'
Arthur's body trembled. His breathing quickened.
And then—his eyes.
They began to glow. A brilliant, violent red. The sa color they always glowed in combat, when his power surged—but this ti, it was different. There was a clarity behind it. That faint glow had turned into a raging light.
Naless turned, sensing the shift.
"…Hm?"
He paused, confused for the first ti in a long while.
A//N: Thanks for reading and supporting the book! :)
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