“Hey. So, Edlyn, sit across from Angela now.” Zero slipped off his mask like a moon shedding clouds, one hand on his hip, weariness hanging on him like dust.

Edlyn nodded and took the seat opposite Angela, like a chess piece set for a face-off under storm-gray light.

“Close your eyes. I need you to rouse what the Abyss left in you, to undo the blessing from the Celestial God on Angela.” Zero held the mask to his brow, like a cool stone pressed to a fever.

“Next comes a battle of minds between you and her. We’ll help from outside, but it’ll be a drop in the sea. So the outcome? Hard to say.” Zero’s voice fell like rain beyond a door.

Edlyn pointed at Janus. “Then why not just send her in?”

Janus smiled, like a lantern flickering in wind, and added, “I have to keep the mental barrier stable. If I slip in now and anything goes wrong, I might never touch the far edge of the world again.”

Edlyn nodded in silence, like a leaf agreeing with the river.

“So, yeah, there are things we can’t do for you,” Zero said, words calm as winter light. “It’s set that way. Now you stand alone. If we meddle, we’ll warp a future even we can’t read.”

“Alright, alright, I get it. Quit buzzing in my ear,” Edlyn waved them off like shooing gnats in sunlight.

“Uh-huh. So what now? Don’t tell me I just stare at her and count dust motes?” Edlyn asked, a sigh coiling like smoke.

Janus set down her teacup with a soft ring, then placed her right hand on Edlyn’s head, gentle as a moth’s wing.

Pure-white energy drifted from her palm like dandelion fluff, and a pale, nameless glow rose from little Angela’s head like mist from a lake.

Janus fused the two clusters together as if kneading snow into one bright sphere.

Edlyn stared, dumbfounded. “Hey… is that safe?” Her voice hovered like a sparrow on a branch.

Zero patted her shoulder. “Relax. It’ll be smooth sailing,” he said, easy as a spring breeze.

Janus watched the swelling light in her hands, face tight as drawn bowstring. “Yeah… what that guy left behind is a thorny briar.” A cold bead of sweat slid down her temple like a melting icicle.

“Scrubbing it out completely won’t be easy.”

Edlyn looked at the two of them, gloomy as a raincloud. She understood nothing, and figured her future self wouldn’t come back just to kill her, right? (Barring a certain red archer who keeps waking himself up by how handsome he is.)

Janus jostled the light-sphere, then smiled. “Eli, it’s ready.”

Before Edlyn could react, Zero’s hand-chop landed on her back with a crisp thwack, like a blade tapping bamboo.

Edlyn blinked, turned, confusion flaring like a startled cat. “You—”

She didn’t finish. Her eyes rolled, and she fainted, dropping like a petal.

Zero looked at the out-cold Edlyn, speechless, then told Janus, “Who’d have thought it—your reflex arc is… kinda long.” His tone curled like a teasing breeze.

Janus stomped over and kicked Zero, swift as a fox. “You talk too much.”

Zero rubbed his rear and stood again, grumbling like a kettle.

He studied the cross-legged, unconscious Edlyn, and the corner of his mouth lifted like a crescent moon. “Ah, fate’s in your hands now. For the first time, we’re truly offstage. This place—this is the crossroads of everything. Celestial God, all this, we did for you. Heh.”

“Alright, alright, we really are going to sleep now. Any last lines? In a moment, the script goes dark,” Janus hurried, words tumbling like pebbles.

Zero rubbed his forehead, half laughing, half sighing, like wind through pines. “Still not sure bringing you back to my world was a good call.”

In other words, they’d lied to Edlyn before. The supposed backup in the mental realm? Smoke and mirrors.

Now the two culprits leaned on each other like wilting reeds and slowly closed their eyes like curtains falling.

................................................................

“Waaah—aaah—aaah—aaah!” Edlyn felt herself tearing through a lightless tunnel, pure black like ink, her body dropping like a stone in a well.

The falling was all downward, a weightless plunge that made the Demonic Lord’s stomach turn like a tossed boat.

Her bugged-out constitution had never run out of blue, like a spring that never dries—she’d never tried smashing into earth from the sky.

Even in fights, no one had ever hammered her from above; back then, the only one who could beat her was the Hero, and the Hero stabbed or slashed like rain, not slam like thunder.

So Edlyn hugged her head and howled, a comet trailing noise.

She didn’t know how long she fell. In the end, she face-planted into something soft, landing like a cat on moss.

“Ah… this… emmmm… mm.” She stopped screaming, surprised by the absence of pain, like expecting thorns and finding silk.

She stood and scanned the surroundings, eyes sweeping like a lantern beam in fog.

“So this… is that place, right? Honestly, I don’t even know what place. They didn’t tell me squat.” She shrugged, light as a drifting leaf.

“You adapt fast. Still got jokes?” came a voice behind her, wary as a drawn blade. Edlyn turned to see someone sweat-soaked, like a grown-up Angela reflected in storm water, watching her like a hawk.

“Yo. So you’re… Akenachel? The parasite squatting in my sister?” Edlyn’s face cooled like frost on glass.

“Hold it. You can’t call me that,” Akenachel said, hands raised like shields.

Edlyn tilted her head, lips curved like a hook. “Oh? Got some twisted logic to sell me?”

She drew her sword, the metal singing like a thin moon.

The Archangel’s eyes lit up, bright as struck flint. Oh? So this isn’t the masked one. Looks like the Demon King of this era—doesn’t know how to brawl in the mental field. Maybe there’s a window. Still, tread soft, test the waters.

Akenachel nodded inwardly, then said aloud, “Listen to me. Your future may know, but you might not understand. I’ll say it again, plain as daylight.”

Edlyn waved her off, impatient as a cat flicking its tail. “Hey, hey, stop. I don’t want to hear my future. Sounds like bad weather. Skip it.”

Akenachel’s eyes flicked, wary as a fox—was that a feint?

“So… emmmmm… actually…” her words stalled like a cart in mud.

“Oh? Still trying to wriggle out?” Edlyn clapped her hands, sound snapping like a twig.

Akenachel pasted on a smile, brittle as ice. “Demonic Lord, please listen. Maybe your future got tired of hearing this because you already heard it here and now.”

Edlyn blinked, fingers drumming her chin like rain. “Huh. That… kinda tracks.”

Akenachel brightened, dawn breaking over her face. This really is the Demon King of this era!

“So. Will you hear me out?”

“…You may speak,” Edlyn said, one brow arched like a drawn bow.

“Your sister came from me. She was born of me. Abyss or not, you can’t call me a parasite,” Akenachel said, voice steady as a bell.

“Uh-huh. But right now you are a parasite,” Edlyn said, disdain sliding off her tongue like cold water.

“If there’s no me, there’s no sister, got it? A soul unit doesn’t just change. Think: without Pandora, would there be an Edlyn as you are?” Akenachel’s anxiety crackled like static.

“Sure. But right now you’re a parasite,” Edlyn repeated, as flat as a blade’s back.

“Tsk. Why won’t it click? Your sister is me, I am your sister, just changed shape and kin-ties and consciousness. This is my body too, understand?” Akenachel’s anger flared like a struck match.

“Mm-hm. And right now? You’re a parasite,” Edlyn said, eyes cool as river stones.

Akenachel fell silent, ellipses hanging like beads.

Edlyn mirrored the quiet, then blinked. “Hm? That’s all you’ve got?”

“…Forget it. Trying to explain to a blockhead is like sowing seeds on rock,” Akenachel sighed, breath leaving like wind over dunes.

“Enough chatter. Time you learned what a Demon King feels like,” Edlyn said. She spun her sword in a flower of steel, and an unspeakable force rolled out like a night tide.

It was the gift returned by the Abyss, her own alone—the regal aura of the Supreme Demon Ruler, rising like a black sun.

Edlyn’s face shifted; her eyes held only chill and scorn, like frost under starlight.

Akenachel froze. So, the Demon King of this era isn’t an easy fish to net.

“Can’t you… spare me?” Akenachel asked, teeth set like a trap.

“I don’t know what those two outside want me to do. But if I erase you here, I imagine that’s enough,” Edlyn said, each word falling like a temple bell.

With every syllable, her voice sank deeper, until Pandora’s old might stood up in her like a mountain.

“Will you accept death?” Edlyn asked, calm as winter water.

Akenachel grit her teeth. From her back, vast wings unfurled like dawn, holy light pooling on her like rain of gold. “Demon King! Then behold the power of the Celestial Realm!”

“So be it.” Edlyn drew Ashir and slashed through air, the stroke clean as a crescent.

A black blade-gleam tore free along Ashir’s spine, tens of meters long, a night river cleaving downward at her gesture.

“—!” Akenachel beat her wings and fled, frantic as a startled heron.

Edlyn watched the darting Angel with a cold eye, smile thin as wire. She surged after, sword sweeping like lightning. “Angel, didn’t you want me to witness the Celestial Realm’s strength? Why are you only running?”

“Damn it… is it really this terrifying?” Akenachel shaved past one of Edlyn’s cuts by a feather’s width.

A brush of black touched her wing. Feathers where it kissed began to rot like frost-burn, and the stain crept outward like ink.

Startled, Akenachel traced a magic circle midair, carving light like chalk to purge the taint.

Edlyn never moved from her spot, a pillar in a storm.

In her hand, the long sword chased Akenachel’s silhouette like a black rainbow hunting a fleeing bird.

Edlyn frowned, sound sharp as flint. “Tsk. When the fly stays far, a sword’s a poor swatter.”