章節 85: The Beginning of The End

Peering over the edge of the cliff I was standing on, a knot formed in my stomach. The forest stretched endlessly below, an impenetrable mass of trees that seemed to spill out into the horizon.

The canopy was thick, hiding whatever laid beneath. Large birds and other winged creatures soared overhead, dipping down to snatch their prey before disappearing back into the trees.

But what unnerved me more than the predators in the sky were the distant roars that rumbled through the air. I could only guess at the size of the monsters that made them, their cries strong enough to shake the very trees that stood in their path.

"These uncharted lands are without question a sight of great beauty," A delicate sound announced as she walked up to my level and then stopped, eyes focused on the forest ahead.

"And dangerous." I replied, but I could see myself saying it out loud.

How was it possible? I felt like a spirit watching my own body move and talk.

"Peril looms over beauty, my dearest." The woman who looked no older than 25 spoke up, the silver braid resting loosely on her shoulder. "One of the very few things I have come to agree upon with you." The silver lining of her lips curved like a crescent as the skin around her perfect blue eyes crinkled. "I will wait in the tent. Don't be out for too long."

"Yeah." I—the man, replied. It was a fairly tall man with dirty blonde hair spilling in rough, curly locks on his face and reached well below his nape. One of his hands was tucked inside his pocket and the other one dangled loosely by his side, sheathed in what looked like a black, nylon glove.

Suddenly he looked over his shoulder, towards me. Inside me. Somewhere behind me, and miles away. The storm that brewed in those pale grey eyes saw through the seemingly frail boundaries of space and time which inadvertently connected back to me.

"What a gaunt and feeble boy." He commented and looked ahead. Overhead, the congregation of clouds thickened and the air in my lungs turned heavy, atmosphere going damp. He looked back at me and raised a brow.

"Are you talking to me?" I asked the man.

A man who looked eerily similar to…myself? Or Aksel? I couldn't put my finger on it.

A look of pity appeared on his face. The kind of pity you would show to someone who is very unfortunate. Or has lost everything. "Tell me, spectre, are there others who linger here, unseen, besides us?"

I felt my lips flutter. "I—"

This sort of hesitation was rare inside me. I looked around, the rolling hills, the scores of trees underneath the edge of the cliff and the faint reflection of blue in the faraway distance of the sea. "Where am I?"

The man looked ahead, and the scenery shifted. Tall, chunky trees surrounded us and a few streaks of muted sunlight filtered through. I looked around, subtle, instinctual panic taking root inside me. Arcanum moved around to coat my body, but deep down I knew it—there was no use.

"The uncharted realms, or so it would seem." He replied, his voice gravely against the soft murmurs of the forest. "They named it Earth—a peculiar turn of phrase, don't you think? Earth surrounds us, lies beneath our very feet, yet does that warrant naming the whole of the land thus? Surely you see the oddity in it?"

"Names do not have much significance." I replied, voicing out my thoughts as I touched one of the trees. It was cold to the touch, and it was pulsing beneath the hard bark. Rich in arcanum—extremely—I noticed.

"Enlighten me."

"Names are just arbitrary labels we assign to things for identification. The true nature or essence of anything doesn't change based on what it's called." I argued, feeling my node brim and fill with the ambient arcanum that was filled inside the tree like an over-inflated balloon.

"While names may seem arbitrary, they hold significance in how we categorise and relate to the world. Names are essential because they link actions to individuals. Without them, achievements lose context and meaning, leaving deeds unrecognised."

I took a moment to process what he had said and then replied: "Fool's dream."

"Hmm?" He hummed quizzically, in a way that was much like me—again.

"Names may be used to link deeds, but their importance is fleeting. Over time, stories change, and deeds are distorted by rumours and the passage of history. After a hundred years, the truth behind the name becomes unrecognisable. So, placing value on names is futile—whatever they represent will eventually vanish or be warped beyond recognition."

The man shifted and faced me. Thick blonde beard and long moustache made his face even manlier than it already felt from the build of his body. "If deeds fade with time and names lose their meaning, then how do we even recognize the fading or distortion in the first place? If everything eventually vanishes or becomes unreliable, then even the concept of 'vanishing' itself becomes uncertain."

I stayed silent for a while. If that is it, then we are just talking in circles.

"Tell me your name, boy." The man spoke as his gloved hand reached for the hilt of his sword.

"Arthur…Olvasen." I replied, feeling the hair on the back of my neck stand. Every fibre of my being was begging me to get on my knees and ask for forgiveness. My knees felt weak, even though there was no sense of danger from the man.

"Hmm. Arthur—" He spoke my name, repeatedly. His tongue rolled around his mouth, as if he was savouring it. "—a sweet name, indeed." His pale grey eyes turned moist for a fleeting second as he looked at me. "I had a brother named Arthur."

"My condolences."

"How would you know he's not around anymore."

"Past tense."

"I do not grasp the words you say, boy—Arthur." He scoffed and removed his hand from the hilt of his sword.

"Right…" I let my words drawl, "...of course you won't understand what Norwegian grammar is."

"You say some strange words, boy." He looked up at the…clear blue sky?

Once again, I stumbled a little, and looked around. The heat was prickling hot around me. I faltered. My steps felt heavy, unsteady, as though the very ground beneath me pushed back against my movements.

Around me, the heat pressed down, prickling against my skin. The sun blazed so fiercely in the sky that it felt as though the moisture in my eyes had been stolen away.

Miles upon miles of sand stretched into infinity, a golden wasteland shimmering with waves of heat. The wind was even fiercer—increasing the heat, so dry it felt as though it could strip my skin.

I looked at the bearded man who solemnly looked at the vast expanse. This man's powers…he was too strong. I felt like if I moved even a hair, I would be killed. This kind of overwhelming strength…even Aksel and Jayden can't compare.

He got on one knee and scooped up a handful of sand which slowly started to slip through his fingertips. "This part…this world is a marvel—so beautiful, yet achingly lonesome. A world frozen in the jar of time. Preserved in its desolation. Like Eden, before it was touched by man as it once laid in a cradle of unbroken silence."

My ears perked at the familiar name. However, I didn't move. Just simply kept my eyes on the man. His beard felt even more golden now that the sun was shining so bright. His eyes were even paler than me, so much that I couldn't tell if he was blind or not.

"This…" he whispered, his voice softer now, almost mournful. "This is where it all begins and ends. Where the infinite echoes back, and the silence speaks louder than the noise ever could."

The scenery changed and we were back into the forest. He ran a hand along the weathered bark of a nearby tree. His gaze wandered, not to the tree or the land, but to something unseen, as though he spoke more to the infinite than to the one listening.

"Do you know, boy?"

"Sorry?"

"How did we—seemingly inferior species, of all other creatures—endured everything that those cursed fuckers have thrown on this world? What thread binds us so tightly to life that we bend death itself, while others fade with the turning of the seasons?" He looked into my eyes and suddenly the congregation of grey clouds returned. "Over the centuries?"

Cursed fuckers? Who is he referring to?

I stood at the edge of the cliff, the salt-laden wind whipping against my face. Below, the sea raged with a primal ferocity. Waves swelled and crashed against jagged rocks, spray rising like a foamy mist. The water stretched endlessly, a dark, churning expanse that pulled at the horizon.

"Why are we—as species—still alive after all the extinctions that have plagued this world since time immemorial?"

A gust of wind swept through the clearing, carrying with it the scent of damp earth and distant rain. He closed his eyes for a moment, letting the chill bite into his skin.

"It is not strength," he said finally, his voice steadier now. "A Wujin has its giant snout and fangs; the gravehawk, its claws. Nor is it swiftness or cunning alone, for these belong to beasts as well. No, it is something far greater. We've lived through wipes of the worlds because we adapt."

"Worlds? Wipes?"

"You ask the wrong questions, boy." He interrupted me.

Suddenly the smell of daffodils filled the air. I turned around and an endless stream of flowers came into sight. The sheer intensity of it—the vivid colours, the layered fragrances—hit me all at once, a sensory assault that made my thoughts falter.

"Where the world changes, we change with it. Where the seas rise, we build atop them. Where the earth hardens, we learn to till its stone. This is our gift and our burden. We do not yield; we become."

I nodded my head, hesitatingly. "Nice pep talk." I uttered, my lips oddly sticky as I ran my tongue on it. "But—I am not here to talk about philosophy about human survival."

"Technically you are not even here." The man replied and looked at me. Multi-coloured lightning and a plethora of galaxies seemed to drift into his pale grey eyes. "Technically speaking, even I am physically un-present here."

"What?" I felt my brows pinch.

[Arthur!]

"You are talking to a fragment of a memory. A residual—of my arcanum. Carrying my essence." He finished and suddenly the scenery shifted. This time I was inside the house—the Olvasen's family house in Bergen.

"Nice place." He looked around the room reserved for Luna.

"It's a dog's room." I replied, looking at his features closely. "Hey, so what do you mean by fragment of a memory?"

The man turned around at me, the small ornament attached to the hilt of his sword jingling. "Dog? What is that?"

"An…animal?" Suddenly things started to make sense. Of course he doesn't know about dogs.

"Who are you?" I asked and at the same time we were suddenly inside a hospital.

I saw myself, small and meek. I was…crying?

Why…? I don't remember this.

A blurry haze covered everyone's faces, a grey mist that obscured everything like smoke trapped in a glass.

"Fragmented. Or perhaps veiled." The man's voice was calm yet carried an undercurrent of thunder. He reached out, brushing the mist that clung to a passing nurse's face, the haze rippling like liquid caught between solid and air. "Such mastery over the arcane art… utterly flawless."

His storm-grey eyes shifted toward me, and in that moment, it felt as though lightning wrapped around my chest, squeezing the breath from my lungs.

"Time is of essence."

[Arthur!]

I felt my knees touch the soft ground beneath as I was now crouching in front of a small hut in the middle of a forest with trees so densely clamped that it made me feel minutely claustrophobic as they choked out the sky.

"I need answers." I growled, feeling the crackling energy of lightning surge around me, arcing in violent sparks.

The man flicked his fingers and in that very instant, the multi-coloured lightning immediately got snuffed out, like a candle in a thunderstorm. He turned around, looking over his shoulder. "It seems like you do not understand where you stand. Boy."

His joints cracked as he looked back at me and emphasised on the boy part. A pair of irises—one in each eye—appeared and all 4 of them focused on me. "There is a lot you need to learn and improve on." He cocked his head to the side. "Although, you are not ready."

"Ready for what?"

"What I failed at." He answered, his voice like the dull edge of a blade. "And what you will succeed at."

"You do not know me."

"Yes." The world around me started to crack, cobwebbing like the thousand splintered aspects of my mind, trying to piece together his words and the events into something that provided the minutest bit of coherence. "But I can feel you."

"You are not making sense."

[Arthur! Please…]

My arcanum suddenly spiked as I looked around. The entire world was burning, people crying—dying moans, everywhere. Structures—colossal and minute—crumbled to the ground as I stood in the middle of it.

"Arthur." The man called out, the condescension nothing but an echo of the past. "Your world is next." His eyes glowed menacingly. "You have a lot to learn." His words grew grim as lightning arced throughout the sky. "As you stand right now, you are nothing more than a hatchling wishing to be squashed."

Through the distant crack in the sky, a single clawed arm managed to creep through, the size so colossal that it seemed to cover an entire world just at the tip of its fingers. The glow from the hand seared into my eyes and I felt my arcanum bubbling like hot lava, ready to combust out of the volcano.

"Your attempts will all end in vain." The words echoed and thick streams of blood started to flow from my ears. Falling to my knees, I clutched my ears, somehow trying to muffle out the sound, but all I was met with was disappointment.

"Give it up. You will never, EVER succeed against me."

A bubble of arcanum, so potent that it caved the entire world inwards, spiraled around the bearded man as he laughed. "Is that so, Almighty?" His words were full of scorn.

Before I could even begin to process what was happening, the world around me started to tear itself apart. The air around me flickered, as if the very fabric of reality was coming undone.

The ground beneath my feet trembled, like it was trying to throw me off. Cracks spread in the earth, but it wasn't just the land that was breaking—everything was. The sky twisted and bled colours that didn't belong, swirling in a chaotic mess.

The noise—it was deafening. Not the crash of buildings falling, not the screams of people, but something deeper, a noise that came from inside everything. The world was ripping at the seams, and I could feel it in my bones. I could feel it in the air, in the ground, in the very space I was standing in.

[ARTHUR…! Please…please come back to me.]

And then, everything stopped. Or maybe, I just stopped. Time seemed to stretch out, hanging in the air like smoke.

The arm made from the purest form of arcanum that had protruded out of the sky disintegrated, and so did the man. As he laid on the crimson drenched grass, his four irises flicked towards me. "End the technique. Free yourself."

What is he saying?

A crack ran along his face and then he broke—shattered like a mug thrown from a skyscraper, breaking down to a million different pieces. The shards flew towards me and entered my chest.

Suddenly, I felt blood drip from my chest, warm against the cold wind that whipped across the cliff's edge. My fingers trembled as they brushed the hilt of the knife buried deep where the shards had once rooted themselves—where I had once been whole. A searing pain radiated from the wound, but it wasn't the blade that hurt.

It was her. And the pain that ensued wasn't even mine.

The woman was standing behind me, white hair clinging to her tear-streaked face, her hand still outstretched as if she could take it all back. As if the knife hadn't already done what we both knew had to be done.

Her lips quivered, forming words she couldn't say. But her eyes—they said enough.

The scenery had shifted and now I was standing atop the same cliff as before, looking over the vast ocean that seemed to stretch towards the end of the world and a shimmer of fog covered the horizon, forming a bubbly cone that rose to the skies. A single, hawklike creature circled the cone, cawing loudly.

"Art—Arthur, please…Wake up, I don't want to leave you here…"

My legs wavered, but I didn't fall into the rolling tides beneath. I couldn't. Not yet. Not until I faced her one last time.

Her voice broke the silence, soft, trembling, yet cutting deeper than the blade. "I'm sorry… I had to." Her breath hitched. "You're an incurable cyst that has grown too far... for this world and to that one…" Her voice cracked, and I could almost hear the pieces of her heart shattering with each word.

My lips moved of their own accord, and something deeper—something I, he had buried beneath pride and despair—spoke instead.

"I love you."

They weren't meant to comfort. They weren't even meant for her forgiveness. They were a confession. An acceptance.

They were just…truth. The one truth 'I' had left amidst the colossal mountain of sins and lies 'I' had committed.

Her eyes widened, and for a moment, the world stood still. Not even the hawk's cries reached us now. It was just her and 'me', standing on the precipice of something neither of us could control.

A tear slipped down her cheek. She shook her head, her voice barely a whisper. "Why now?"

I—he managed a weak smile. "Because it's all I have left."

As my knees gave way, and 'I' sank toward the earth, I—he realized…it was enough.

(***)

Minji always knew what it was like to fight for what little she had. She had grown up an orphan, raised in a cramped alley near Seoul's bustling markets. Her earliest memories were of the faint smell of flour, sizzling oil, and the sound of her grandfather's gruff voice calling out to passing pedestrians, trying to sell his pajeons.

Life had always been simple yet harsh—always scraping by, always finding ways to get by in the cramped street markets. She never had the luxury of feeling safe, or even sure of where her next meal would come from.

But there was comfort in routine. Each morning, Minji helped her grandfather prepare the pajeons, mixing the batter, filling it with kimchi and vegetables, and cooking it on the griddle. She had learned from him, taking pride in their food—simple, hearty, and warm.

Her grandfather was all she had left, the only family she had known for as long as she could remember. They had a rhythm. She worked, he talked to the customers, and together they made ends meet.

She had seen many faces come and go from their stall, some friendly, some cold, but there was one day that had been different.

It was during one of the colder days that he appeared. He had white hair, strikingly pale, like fresh snow under the midday sun. His eyes were golden—an unnatural, mesmerising gold that made her stomach turn.

She thought she had seen him before, but his presence felt like it belonged to another world entirely, out of place in this crowded market.

There was something about him that unsettled her, a strange aura that surrounded him. His name, she later learned from a passing conversation, was Michael. A name that seemed to have no weight in her world, as if it belonged to a different place, a different time.

And then there was something strange. The two people who had been with him—both were equally strange. The woman, Astrid, with her long silver hair, and the man beside her, Arthur, whose features were sharp, angular, like a sculpture crafted from stone.

They didn't belong in the streets of Seoul. They were so out of place, like something foreign. Minji had never seen anyone like them before. They all looked as if they'd just stepped out of a Wattpad fanfiction.

The encounter was brief. They ate their pajeons, exchanged a few polite words, and then disappeared as soon as they had come. If she had even a little bit of doubt in herself, she'd have thought she was schizophrenic. But she knew she was not. But the thought of a guy travelling away in lightning was too much to make sense of.

But even more than that, it was Michael who had left Minji with a strange feeling in her chest. Something about Michael's eyes, the way his gaze seemed to see through her, and the odd feeling that clung to the air after he was gone, made her feel like something important had passed her by.

But there was no time for those thoughts. Minutes later, everything had changed.

The sirens started first, faintly, and then grew louder. News broadcasts on the streets were filled with frantic updates. People were in a panic. The government issued evacuation orders, but the reason was vague—just rumours about strange occurrences in the sky, magical creatures sighting etcetera.

The chatter didn't make sense. There had been stories, rumours, even legends, of magical creatures, but they were supposed to be merely fables.

At first, Minji had thought it was just another false alarm—an overblown fear. But the atmosphere in the streets became heavy. People rushed to pack what they could, dragging their children along as they hastily prepared to leave.

Her grandfather had been agitated, his wrinkled hands shaking as he packed away their stall, grumbling about how this was just like last time—another evacuation, another situation that would blow over.

But it didn't blow over.

The evacuation turned out to be a forced relocation. It wasn't a choice anymore; it was mandatory. Military personnel set up barricades, guiding people into designated shelter camps just outside the city, away from the so-called Shimmer.

It was a strange phenomenon—something they couldn't explain but only knew as the shimmering barrier that had appeared over the main city of Seoul. For a month, it had stood there, untouched, ominous, as if waiting for something. Even the platoons that were inside the shimmer had no contact with the outside world.

Minji had joined the crowds of people. Why were they all being forced into shelters? What was happening outside the city? There were rumours—so many rumours. The shimmer was expanding. It wasn't a natural occurrence.

It was as though something was forcing its way into their world. Strange creatures were mentioned again, but she couldn't make sense of it all. She couldn't make sense of Michael, either.

A month passed. The Shimmer grew. It was no longer a mysterious, far-off phenomenon. Now, it was a looming danger. Every day, more people were evacuated to the shelters, to these camps that seemed to stretch on endlessly. The army had taken control of the situation, and even the air felt different.

It was charged, buzzing with an energy Minji couldn't describe.

And then, one day, on December 15, the Shimmer finally broke.

One moment, everything was calm, and the next, there was a sharp, crackling sound, like the air molecules had split open. Minji's breath caught in her throat as the ground shook beneath her feet.

She stumbled forward, grabbing onto the railing of the shelter for balance. The sky fractured above her—cracks that spread across the skies like lightning, but deeper, darker, and filled with an inorganic light.

People screamed, running in every direction, but no one knew what was happening. The earth trembled beneath them, and the sky… the sky felt like it was falling apart.

Minji clutched her head, feeling dizzy. The world around her was wrong. The pull of the atmosphere felt like gravity was ripping everything at the seams.

It was then that the pain hit.

A sharp, searing pain shot through her heart and then into her body, as though every cell was being crushed. She gasped, clutching her chest, her knees buckling. Her vision blurred, her ears ringing as the world spun.

She tried to scream, but no sound came out. She could feel it—something inside her, something foreign, crawling beneath her skin like an insect.

Minji gasped, her mind struggling to comprehend the enormity of what was happening.

Unbeknownst to her, the Arcanum that was slowly trickling from Eden was now pouring into earth like water breaking from a broken dam.

The arcanum was flowing towards everyone's premature primary nodes. If a node has been developed through the usage in bloodline, one could accept it and awaken. Which was the case for the Seven Syndicates.

However, for the normal people, the percentage of people who did not have a pre-mature primary node was…infinitesimally small.

The energy coursing through her was more than she could handle, more than she ever thought possible.

Around her, people screamed, clutching at their bodies, collapsing to the ground as the weight of the new gravity and their own heart ready to combust crushed them.

Minji's knees buckled, and she fell to the ground, her vision clouding with black.

A man to her right splattered into a blob of flesh and blood and mangled bones as the increased gravity started to crush buildings, cars and humans alike. A woman behind her exploded from her chest, leaving nothing but a giant gaping hole in her chest, big enough to hide a child inside it.

Minji retched as another man fell right in front of her and was ironed down, his body flattening out like a thin piece of paper.

"M-Mi" Her grandfather's voice was an ocean of endless pain as his old bones began to crack as well. A bright orange light started to glow from underneath his wrinkled skin.

She looked back, but no words came out. Her own pain was too large to reach out and offer any kind of solace to him.

The man cried out, wailing, the influx of arcanum and the body's rejection broiling his blood. Smoke rose from his ears, and nose and mouth as flames started to bite away at his insides.

"No…please…someone…" She cried out, but nothing happened. No one came to help.

No one.

Who could've? A huge contingent of people were already on the ground from the increased gravity, the ones who could resist it were also on the ground, like Minji, trying to refuse the rejection of arcanum in their bodies.

Her breathing shallowed and the world started to stain white. Her heart expanded so much that she just laid on the ground, looking up at the sky as her chest swelled. The same light as her grandfather illuminated her entire body, and the sensation of being burned alive sliced through her body.

However, she just closed her eyes and whimpered.

The end was getting near.

She opened her eyes once last time, looking at the sky. Even the sun felt different to her. It wasn't the same circular sun anymore; but rather it seemed like the intersection point of two circles.

And then, the area around her exploded forming an average sedan-sized crater beneath her. And inside the crater, she hovered above it, her body suddenly feeling light despite the sudden increase in the 'g' force.

And then another explosion in the near distance. And another.

A chain reaction of explosions continued and the people who were the cause of them started to feel light and were able to get back on their feet. Minji did the same, and albeit the sensation of someone hitting her with a hammer on head persisted, it was better than her heart being ripped apart.

The people there started to look for their family members—the ones who were still in one piece, ignorant of the changes in their bodies.

The first phase of the merger was here. A part of Eden and a part of Earth.

Despite being on a smaller scale—comparatively—the advent of the merger was just on the horizon.