Then, in the depths of the void, a voice echoed—soft, warm, and full of light.
"Asron... get up. Your journey isn't over yet."
A faint glow pierced the darkness. Asron's eyes fluttered open.
He found himself lying in a boundless, dreamlike field—an ethereal landscape unlike anything he had seen before. Colors shimmered in the air like breathing mist, hues that defied mortal understanding. The ground beneath him was soft as clouds, pulsing gently with a life of its own. A warm breeze carried a scent so soothing it silenced the ache in his soul.
Then he saw her.
A girl sat before him, glowing faintly as if sculpted from the moonlight itself. Long silver hair cascaded around her like flowing silk, and her eyes, ancient and knowing, looked into him as if she saw every wound, every memory, every burden. Yet her smile was kind—gentle in a way he hadn't felt in years.
Asron struggled to sit up. His body felt lighter, almost unbound by flesh, as if he had been freed from the chains of mortality. Confusion twisted across his face.
"I... remember dying. The pain. The dagger in my chest. Isaki…" His voice faltered, pain tightening his throat. "She betrayed me."
He looked around, heart racing. "Where am I? What is this place?"
The girl's smile softened. "You stand in the Realm of Echoes—a place between life and death. Here, time drifts, and souls remain when fate has yet to finish writing their story."
Her voice flowed like music, echoing through the vibrant air.
Asron blinked, glancing down at his chest. No wound. No blood. Only the echo of pain remained—a phantom reminder. "So… this isn't the afterlife?"
She laughed softly, a sound like water over crystal. "No, Asron. Death hasn't claimed you. Not yet. But this place is no mere dream." She raised a hand, and the world shimmered.
The mist twisted and bloomed into a grand, celestial hall.
Tall windows arched toward a golden sky. Light poured in, gentle and warm. Petals floated lazily through the air like drifting memories. Before them appeared a table set for two, carved from silverwood that glowed faintly with runes of old.
The girl sat gracefully, her movements fluid, timeless. She gestured to the empty seat. "Come. Sit. There is much you do not know."
Asron hesitated. Her presence unsettled him—not with fear, but reverence. There was power in her calm. He obeyed, settling into the chair across from her. Pasifer lay beside him, quiet and stained with the blood of gods.
He clenched his jaw, gaze hard. "I don't have time for riddles. If I still live, then I need answers. When gods die, they fall into the Abyss. So why am I here? Who are you?"
The girl sipped her tea, then tilted her head, amusement dancing in her eyes.
"Did you really believe you were a god, Asron?"
The words struck him like a slap.
"What?" he breathed. His anger surged, old wounds flaring. "I am Asron! Wielder of Pasifer! Slayer of Demon Lords! I was forged by the gods themselves. How dare you—"
She raised an eyebrow, her smile calm and sharp.
"You've spent lifetimes calling yourself a god," she said, voice laced with something colder. "But the truth is... you've always been a pawn. A piece on the board, moved by hands you never saw."
Asron stood abruptly, fury trembling in his chest. "Lies!"
His voice echoed across the hall.
But she didn't flinch.
She simply looked at him, serene and unmoved. "You call it betrayal. You call it war. But what if everything you did—even your victories—were written into someone else's design?"
Silence fell.
Asron's breathing slowed. Doubt crept in, sharp and quiet.
He slowly sat back down.
The girl set her cup aside with a soft clink.
"I brought you here because you deserve to know the truth. No more riddles. No more lies. But understand this: the gods you trusted—they were never gods at all."
She leaned forward, voice like a whisper from the stars.
"Now, listen closely, Asron. Because what I tell you next… will change everything."
Grudgingly, Asron sank back into the chair, tension tight in his shoulders. His brow furrowed, eyes locked on the enigmatic woman before him. "Fine," he muttered, the weight of her words coiling like chains around his mind. "Tell me everything."
The goddess leaned back, elegance woven into every movement. Time seemed to bend around her—she did not wait, she allowed things to unfold. "I am a goddess, Asron," she began, her voice both proud and impossibly ancient. "Not of one realm, or even a dozen—but of existence itself. I watch over the balance between creation and collapse, where souls flicker like stars and gods rise and fall."
She tilted her head slightly, silver hair cascading over her shoulder, glowing faintly in the otherworldly light. "And you, Asron, now stand in my domain. A place untouched by time. Here, you are free from the chains of mortality... and illusion."
Asron narrowed his eyes, jaw tense. "A goddess of everything?" he scoffed, though a sliver of uncertainty slipped through. "Then why waste your time on me? You could erase my memories, send me back, or just end this. Why speak to me at all?"
Her laughter, soft and melodic, danced in the still air. "Because I don't want to erase you, Asron. I want to offer you a choice."
His eyes darkened, voice turning cold. "A choice? I've had enough of others choosing for me. I've killed, bled, and lost everything in the name of someone else's cause. I'm done being anyone's pawn."
He stood abruptly, his cloak rippling with the motion, the ever-present Pasifer gleaming at his side like a warning. "I'm not here to serve you. I'm leaving."
But as he turned, her voice—calm and almost teasing—stopped him cold. "Are you sure you don't want anything, Asron?"
He froze.
The silence hung heavy, a breathless tension between them.
"What are you talking about?" he asked, his voice quieter now, not with weakness—but with buried fear.
She stepped toward him slowly, the space itself seeming to respond to her presence. "You say you're done with being used... but I think you're afraid. Not of death. Not even of betrayal. You're afraid of not knowing."
She moved beside him, her tone almost wistful. "You want to understand, Asron. You want to know why she betrayed you. Why someone you trusted with your heart carved it apart."
Asron's fists clenched, his eyes shut tight as a storm surged behind them.
The goddess's voice softened, like silk brushing against a wound. "You want the truth, don't you? Not just about Isaki. About everything."