Dominic tumbled across the ground, shoved aside by A.
It was like being hit head-on by a runaway train—an overwhelming shock.
If he hadn’t wrapped himself in shadows to block the Corrosion Bomb, the force of that “just a shove” would’ve shattered every bone in his body.
Even though she’d only pushed him.
As he was flung further from the bomb’s blast radius, ti—slowed to a crawl by tension—began to flow normally again.
The drawn-out sounds stretching endlessly in his ears snapped back into their original sharp, piercing bursts, and his AR interface began to flood his vision with a torrent of warnings:
Red warning panels filled his field of vision.
Clear proof that, sowhere in Babel—no, right here—a Corrosion Bomb had been detonated.
Dominic barely managed to lift himself, turning to look at where Beren had been standing—and where he had just been standing a mont earlier.
And what he saw...
...was a massive black sphere swallowing everything in its path.
It pulsed ominously, sucking in light and space itself like a black hole.
“...”
It was the Corrosion Bomb’s initial form.
That black sphere stirred mories long buried.
It was the result of a weapons developnt program he’d taken part in during his youth—one that utilized Corrosion Domains.
When even the gacorps, backed into a corner, couldn’t destroy the seemingly immortal Phantoms, they’d resorted to using Babel’s forbidden technology.
Their own version of the Manhattan Project.
And Dominic knew exactly how a Corrosion Bomb functioned.
First, a black sphere that reduced everything to nothing would form.
To the human eye it looked smooth, even clean—but in reality, it was a fusion of countless Corrosion Domains.
Once it reached a critical limit, unable to contain the unstable energy, the sphere would rupture—shredding the surrounding space and hurling fragnts in every direction.
Each of those fragnts was a Corrosion Domain, piercing through all matter as they spread outward.
Most would vanish sowhere into the void, but the ones that remained would contaminate the region—turning it into a dead zone where no one could live.
“?”
But sothing was wrong.
Dominic realized it almost imdiately.
The formation and fragntation of ➤ NоvеⅠight ➤ (Read more on our source) a Corrosion Bomb happened on the scale of milliseconds.
But that sphere—it was still intact.
It remained there, hovering, trembling—dangerously unstable, like sothing being forcibly held together.
Dominic slowly began to back away, eyes fixed on the pulsing orb of darkness.
This wasn’t the pattern he knew.
Whatever was happening now, it was not in any manual.
The sphere had reached its limit. Its surface rippled like the skin of so living creature. Swirling, unstable energy twisted within.
He kept his distance, observing carefully.
Thump.
The black sphere gave one final pulse—and then sothing completely unexpected happened.
Instead of exploding, it contracted.
It shrank rapidly into a single point—
—then burst upward, spiraling into the sky like a vortex.
Like a dragon rising from the earth.
There was no visible end.
The black column surged higher and higher, as if trying to break through the heavens and connect to the void beyond.
It looked like a colossal pillar holding up the sky over Babel—or a cursed spire leading straight into the abyss.
“...What the hell is happening...?”
Dominic could only stand there in stunned silence, whispering to himself as the surreal spectacle unfolded before his eyes.
****
Inside the Corrosion Domain shaped like a street from Korea, a hundred years ago—
I was still staring through the shadowed window of a dimly lit building.
Inside, countless children gazed back at —glowing blue eyes peering from beyond the glass.
‘...’
Where did they all co from?
I locked eyes with one particularly expressionless kid, thoughts swirling.
And then, as if they’d sensed sothing—
The children’s expressions suddenly brightened.
They surged toward the window all at once, pressing against it with delighted faces.
‘!!!’
What the hell’s going on?
I stumbled back reflexively, startled by the sudden rush.
Crash!
The glass shattered under the pressure of their mass.
Shards exploded outward, scattering across the ground.
And through the broken fra, the children poured out like a flood.
Way more of them than I’d seen through the window.
Like grains of sand—or a sumr swarm of insects—they just kept coming.
‘!!!’
Like cockroaches hiding in the walls—if you see one, there are hundreds more you don’t see.
From inside that building, packed tight with darkness, the kids kept spilling out in endless numbers.
Was it never empty to begin with? Had the entire interior been stuffed wall-to-wall with children?
“UWAAAGH!”
I was completely overwheld—engulfed in a sea of tiny bodies.
They clambered over , wrapped themselves around like old friends reunited after a long ti.
In seconds, I was floating—head barely above the surface—in a lake made of children.
Maybe it was because they were small and light... or maybe because they moved with , adjusting to my movents.
But strangely, it didn’t feel uncomfortable.
In fact, aside from being incredibly ticklish, it wasn’t bad at all.
Like I was so kind of lucky statue, every kid took turns coming up to and smacking my skin with tiny, playful slaps.
It was so ridiculous, I couldn’t help but laugh.
[Heehee.]
When I started laughing, they got even more excited—tugging on my hair, poking my cheeks, climbing all over .
And while I floated in that lake of children, one hypothesis popped into my head.
What if...
What if a new child appeared in each micro-Corrosion Domain that spawned when the bomb went off?
But then again—when I fought Hector in the Grave of Weapons, there hadn’t been any kids in that Domain.
So maybe... the scattering caused by the bomb was why they didn’t appear?
Maybe the Domains back then couldn’t develop properly—left as stunted fragnts?
Or maybe... it had sothing to do with that sky—the eerie, multicolored cosmos stretching endlessly above.
My head was spinning.
But whatever the answer, I couldn’t find it right now.
I figured it was about ti I returned to where Dominic had been and started making my way out of the child-lake.
That’s when it happened.
The world around started to glitch—like digital static buzzing at the edge of perception.
‘...?’
A sharp, unpleasant sensation—like a corrupted hologram tearing apart.
And just as the static cleared—
A man appeared in front of .
No sound. No warning.
Just there.
His eyes glowed blue in the dark—an unnatural, piercing light.
[rcenary A. Did our warning... not feel like a warning to you?]
His voice was cold. Arrogant.
And the mont it rang out, every child clinging to recoiled in terror.
They covered their glowing eyes with both hands and scrambled to hide behind my back.
****
Dominic could instinctively feel just how dire his situation was.
And it wasn’t just because of the physical threat looming before him.
That black shadow—towering like a pillar, stretching endlessly into the sky.
The air itself trembled, unstable, as though space were about to collapse.
Even the AI fra network, always so stable, now emitted a sickening static hum.
All of it made one thing crystal clear: this was no ordinary situation.
But to Dominic, the visible phenona weren’t the real problem.
What disturbed him more was the oppressive, indescribable atmosphere that saturated the space around him.
That was the true core of the threat.
“...This is...”
He muttered under his breath.
It was a feeling he’d experienced only once, long ago—when he was young.
Back then, he’d risked everything to uncover the secrets of the Great Convergence and the Corrosion Domains. Ventured into the unknown.
And there, in that chaos where the very laws of reality unraveled, he had felt this exact sensation.
It was like standing at the outermost edge of Babel, that forbidden land—where everything was twisted and tangled, and common sense, physics, aning itself, dissolved into absolute chaos.
It was so overwhelming—
That he forgot.
Forgot that a mysterious rcenary nad A had just saved his life.
Forgot the danger he was still in, being hunted by an unknown enemy.
Forgot even the devastating betrayal of Beren, the aide he had trusted more than anyone.
Forgot it all.
[Dominic Krilov.]
A voice shattered his tangled thoughts.
He couldn’t tell where it ca from.
It seed to echo from every direction—or maybe from directly inside his skull.
[A worm should stay where worms belong.]
[You’ve learned too much.]
[You’re in the way of the plan.]
It sounded like countless voices layered over one another, grotesquely overlapping—yet each one crystal clear, distinct.
And utterly unnatural.
There was no emotion in that voice.
It was cold, chanical—like an ancient machine playing back a pre-recorded ssage.
A final judgnt.
But the murderous intent embedded in that flat tone was unmistakable.
So much so that Dominic felt a chill crawl down his spine before he even realized it.
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