Lucimia warped herself and Yuna to the town’s edge. By the same river as before, silver water slid past like a cold blade. They lay under a solitary tree, clothes and skin smeared in blood.

Lucimia was the steadier flame; she could still move. Yuna had bled too much, breath guttering like a candle, mind sinking like silt.

“Yuna...” Her voice trembled like a plucked string.

Yuna lifted her hand, a leaf stirring in a thin wind.

“Hold on. I’ll get you to the High Church now. They’ll use Healing Magic. Once we’re fixed up, we run. We leave all this behind.”

Panic beating like war drums, Lucimia scooped Yuna up. She primed a Flight Spell. Yuna tugged at her skirt hem, a weak anchor.

She leaned to Lucimia’s ear, breath like frost. “Too... late...”

“No.” Lucimia’s denial snapped like ice. “I’ll go full speed. I’ll fly till the sky splits.”

“I... can’t... cough...” Yuna’s mind sank deeper, voice sand-dry. “Maybe... Sister Lucimia... you can make it. But I...”

Lucimia fell silent. The river hissed against stone.

Yuna was right. Lucimia might endure. Yuna bled more, her face lacquered red, those hollow eyes—pierced by tentacles—enough to make courage falter.

“It’s my fault... I never learned Healing Magic... I’m sorry, Yuna...” Regret rose like dark tide; her hands tightened.

She had wanted to learn. But no Healing grimoires existed. Archmages hoarded that art like dragons over gold.

Yuna smiled, fragile as thin ice under dawn. “Not your... fault. It’s mine... I’m sorry...”

Lucimia blinked, ready to argue. Yuna raised a hand and hushed her.

“Listen...” She drew two shallow breaths, then let words drip out. “If, back in... the first Grand Reversion... I hadn’t... coveted... hadn’t... fled from it... we wouldn’t be here now. So... Sister Lucimia... I’m sorry...”

“What are you even saying...?” Confusion swarmed like bees.

“What first Grand Reversion? Are we in a second? Is that some other mechanism? A trait of your Authority Power?”

Yuna kept that faint smile, a candle holding against wind. “Sister Lucimia... don’t you... want to know why... I remember the Authority Power’s... Reversion... but you don’t? I can... tell you...”

A sharp intuition pricked. Panic flared. “Wait—what are you doing? Are you about to break the rules of your ability? Stop. Don’t say it.”

Lucimia reached to cover Yuna’s mouth. Yuna flared for a final moment, a last ember roaring bright, and pushed her hand away.

“I already broke it.”

“What?”

“When I said ‘the first Grand Reversion’... I broke it then.”

Lucimia’s words died. The river’s whisper became a roar in her ears.

“Sister Lucimia... your Authority Power... is Devouring.”

“What are you trying to say?”

“Use the Fuzzy Orb... over there. Let it Devour me. It can Devour on your behalf. Then you’ll inherit my memories... and gain my Reversion.”

“If I Devour you, won’t you vanish?” Her arms locked tight around the girl who had been the quiet moon beside her night.

“Is that how it works? I don’t... know... But anyway... I won’t last. If I die... the ability disappears...” Her breath stuttered like broken wings.

“I won’t.” Lucimia’s stubbornness rang like iron.

“Dummy... Sister Lucimia. You’ve always been so smart. Get my ability first. Then find a way to save me. There’s always a road. Maybe... Authority-tier Reversion could do it. Maybe... there’s a Blessing like Resurrection. Defeat the octopus first, then pull me back. We can still be together.”

“I...” The word hung like a torn flag.

The far horizon split like cloth. An octopus head shouldered through the sky, wet and terrible.

“Hahahahaha—!! I, Elyssus, have finally—finally returned!!”

The summoning had begun. She didn’t know what trick Elyssus used. She only knew it was coming.

Urgency tightened like a noose. Lucimia ransacked her mind for exits, for light.

A thought flashed—like a rope thrown from a cliff. “Devouring is a concept, right? I can choose not to devour existence—only devour the ability?”

“No...” Yuna’s answer was a falling leaf.

“Why?”

“Because... Sister Lucimia... you haven’t fully awakened. Without awakening, you can’t wield concepts freely... To awaken fully, you must completely Devour a soul marked by a Blessing...”

The last hope cracked like thin ice.

“And... I’ve already broken the rules. I might be erased anyway.” Yuna’s voice dimmed, horizon of breath fading.

Still, Lucimia didn’t move. The wind stalled in her chest.

“Hurry... the octopus... is...” Yuna urged, each syllable a stone.

“I...” The choice was a blade at the throat. With Reversion, there were roads ahead. Without it, the path ended here. But her hands refused to become knives.

The Fuzzy Orb popped out, bouncing like a seed fluff in spring. It peeked at Yuna, then at Lucimia, bright eyes asking for permission.

Lucimia looked at the pink-haired girl cradled in her arms—petals dulled, no strength left. No matter how she shook, the girl didn’t respond.

She glanced at the sky, where Elyssus shouldered its way into the world. A decision froze, then thawed.

“Little Fuzzy...”

The Fuzzy Orb obeyed. Its mouth opened like a black flower, and it swallowed Yuna in one gulp.

In the same heartbeat, a torrent of information slammed into Lucimia’s mind. Memories poured like a river in flood. Rules etched like frost on glass. And a foreign weight settled—the Devouring Authority.

Pain flared everywhere. Her brain throbbed like a war drum. Nerves twanged like overstrung wires. A crown of ache beat above her skull.

When the storm eased, she understood Yuna’s memories.

The Grand Reversions were split by memory.

In the first Grand Reversion, both cycles kept their memories. Then something happened; the memories were erased. Yuna triggered a second Grand Reversion—this current span.

In that first Reversion, Lucimia moved quietly, unseen by Elyssus. She reverted, grabbed Yuna, and ran. They hid. They lived a quiet, idle life, like a boat moored in fog. Lucimia even sent Yuna to school.

But Lucimia grew more irritable, and her Authority surfaced—the Devouring Authority.

At first it was manageable. Lucimia kept control. She defended Yuna, taught bullies sharp lessons. She became an adventurer, cleared high-tier quests alone.

The more she used it, the more her nature shifted. The bullies first got warnings, then wounds. One day, she even killed, paying heavy gold to bury the damage.

Sometimes she couldn’t stop her power. She Devoured at random. Later she’d retch alone, as if trying to spit the world back out.

Devour too much, and the mind bends. She began to babble, words like broken constellations, nonsense fluttering from her lips.

Yuna was terrified by the change.

One day, Yuna told her school stories—small, warm lights. Lucimia laughed, rare as sun after rain. That single laugh pulled her from the abyss; for a whole day she was herself.

That’s why, in later Reversions, Yuna kept telling her: use laughter to drive off the dark.

So Yuna tried, day after day, to keep Lucimia smiling, holding the shadows at bay as if with a paper lantern.

The good days ended. Bad news arrived like thunder—Elyssus had come to hunt.

While Lucimia hid, she reported nothing to anyone. Elyssus fed undisturbed, drinking power until it could descend. It did. The world fell into a furnace, a hell of writhing shadows.

It remembered the two girls who had slipped early away. It chased.

Lucimia had no choice. She faced Elyssus.

She Devoured the energy it had stockpiled, and its memories too. Elyssus escaped.

After that Devouring, Lucimia stepped past the point of no return.

She lost all control.

A Devouring Authority that could eat all things turned inward. It began to eat Lucimia.

Her screams forced Yuna to tear off her blindfold and trigger Reversion. In the instant before the world rewound, Yuna saw a figure—almost Lucimia’s twin—floating above the dying body. Lucimia was already gone.

The second Grand Reversion began. This now.

Lucimia had no memory because Olivya was invading her body, hijacking Devouring. It had always been Olivya’s Authority.

Devouring hadn’t consumed Lucimia’s existence, so she still remained in the weave of history. If Lucimia vanished, Olivya couldn’t resurrect.

Lucimia understood.

Olivya wanted to use her to return. She had to wait until Lucimia fell completely out of control to slip in.

So that’s the shape of it.

Truth settled like snow. Threads finally aligned.

She had also received the rules bound to Yuna’s ability. They didn’t appear like some menu. They surfaced in her mind like facts she’d always known, unbidden and complete.

Still, to express them, she had to lay them out, crisp and clear:

Temporal Authority. You have entered its trial. Your ability is Reversion.

Rule One: You must not proactively tell others your ability.

Rule Two: If you die, the ability disappears.

Rule Three: Cooperation with other candidates is forbidden. One must kill the other.

Rule Four: Kill other Temporal candidates, seize their abilities, and complete the trial.

Rule Five: You must not proactively tell others the rules.

Ability Rule: A Reversion holder must not proactively tell others the contents of a Reversion.

Ability Limits: Discover them yourself.

She finished the reckoning and looked up at Elyssus rending the sky.

Lucimia triggered Reversion.

For the first time, she did it herself.

White light flooded. Consciousness sank like a stone in deep water.

Reversion began again.

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