Throne of Origin.A place beyond the world. Silent. Vast.Like an ancient altar floating in luminous void. Massive pillars revolve around it, orbiting without gravity. The sky is like a sea of unmoving stars—frozen in fractured time.
The Empress appears at the center of the altar, her body still stained with blood from the previous battle. Her hair flows loose, her combat attire torn and scorched—yet her steps remain steady as she approaches the stone throne at the edge of the platform.
From a vortex of silver-white light, another figure emerges—a woman nearly identical in appearance, yet radiating a wholly different presence. Starlight pours from her skin, and her gentle eyes carry a divine stillness. She is the manifestation of the World Will—the core consciousness of a world yet to be born.
World Will:"You were supposed to open the gate with the World Master Key: Miriad Miniature Garden. You... skipped protocol using a regular adventurer's map?"
The Empress(coldly):"I didn't have time to look for a gate. I've been here before... and I marked it."
The World Will exhales—or rather, simulates the act of exhaling, complete with digital resonance like the whisper of interstellar wind.
World Will:"Beings like you always break the rules."(pauses)"Hey... give me a name. 'World Will of Miriad Miniature Garden' is just too long."
The Empress stares at her blankly.
The Empress:"Aetheria. The name of the world... and the system that builds it."
Aetheria nods slowly. She steps aside from the throne, stands at its right, and gestures gracefully—inviting The Empress to sit.
The Empress takes the seat. Her gaze locks forward, and moments later, a colossal hologram manifests: a map of a world not yet born.
Not merely visual—but a complete construct of magical formulas, ecosystem architecture, sky algorithms, and temporal cycles. Floating mountains, sacred ruins, black oceans, and a sunless sky that changes color.
Aetheria(soft voice, echoing):"Are you ready to create a world?"
The Empress doesn't respond. She raises her hand into the air——and the deployment begins.
Back in the Real World — The city where the Yggdrasil Tower stands
The False God continues to evolve.Its body decays and reshapes itself in mere seconds—sometimes taking the form of a mist dragon with floating bones, sometimes a giant insect shrouded in human eyes, singing children's voices in reverse.
Its attacks sweep across the city in waves of corrupted reality. Buildings crack—not from fire, but from having their existence rejected by space itself.
The Last Six—without The Empress—still stand. Their wounds are deep, their magic reduced to flickers. Cracked armor. Heavy breaths.
Reporter(live broadcast):"...This isn't a battle between humans. This... this is the end of days...!"
All over the world, people watch through massive screens. Some cry. Some hug their families. Others simply stare, as if witnessing the end of everything.
Meanwhile, behind the curtain of the world...in a pitch-black underground chamber, hidden far beneath the surface of reality, a group of hooded figures sit around a broadcast projection.
Their robes are dark, and on their chests glows a faint emblem: a vertical sword piercing a fractured shield, encircled by three intertwining bands of flame—a long-lost symbol of an Order that has silently guarded Earth from the shadows.
Hooded Figure 1:"Transcendent-level entities are emerging..."
Hooded Figure 2:"They were supposed to stay hidden from mankind—by the Old Pact. We have no choice now..."
Hooded Figure 3:"The pact's been broken... we must surface. Before envoys from the Ten Kingdoms start pouring into this world."
Throne of Origin — Deployment Begins
Light radiates from the altar. Before The Empress, hundreds of lines of holographic text stream rapidly. Rows of symbols, dimensional equations, and world artifacts begin to take shape.
One design halts in front of her:
[Dimensional Gate: Silver Ring System]• Type: Spatial Anchor (x2)• Function: Portal link between dimensions (source ↔ target)• Condition: Source and target dimensions must be at least 73% stable
A silver ring materializes midair, forged from the resonance of light. It grows slowly, stretching like the arc of time itself. It expands until it spans 25 meters in diameter—roughly the height of a six-story building.
Within it, silver mist coils and churns. A different world begins to appear beyond the portal.
Back in The city where the Yggdrasil Tower stands
The sky trembles.A massive silver ring forms slowly in the air, replacing clouds and debris. An unknown aura bursts forth, piercing the boundaries of reality and shaking the heavens themselves.
From within that ring—a different world becomes visible: colossal trees, floating ruins, and an eternal daylight that lingers... without a sun.
Syrra(in awe, laughing softly):"That... that's the Little Garden. Our world... from before."
Lorrick(wiping blood from his face):"She did it... she opened the gate."
Arven removes his helmet. His eyes burn red with determination. He stares at the False God—now disoriented, caught between two worlds.
Arven:"Listen... we pull it back to our old home. There... we're more than just human."
The remaining five of The Last Six—wounded, blood-hungry, yet laughing like wild dogs—reform their battle formation.
The portal is open.Time collapses.The world shifts.
The final step begins.