"Hey… is it just me, or is the Day of Destruction behind us getting smaller?"
The sudden report echoed through the comms aboard a Galaxy Rangers vessel.
One of the Rangers ferrying trade goods had noticed something strange in their wake.
The massive orange-yellow flare in the distance—had it… shrunk?
He broadcast his observation to the rest of the fleet.
"Doesn't look any different from here. I can't tell with the naked eye."
"Hold on—my ship's visual tracking module is still processing... Okay, calculation's complete. There's a tiny decrease. Barely noticeable—but real."
"No way. Are we actually surviving the Day of Destruction?"
Comm chatter instantly lit up. Excitement crackled across all channels. The very idea that they could live through something wrought by the Aeon of Destruction was inconceivable.
Especially since they were hauling an entire planet.
And yet—they were still here.
"Don't tell me even the Aeon of Destruction can choke sometimes?"
Otherwise, how could the Day of Destruction—recorded in archives as capable of swallowing thousands of light-years—only expand a measly distance?
"I think something else is going on. Stay alert," Bu Yi warned the fleet calmly.
Even if the Day of Destruction had weakened, it didn't mean the danger had passed.
Only when it vanished entirely would it truly be safe.
His words were met with general agreement.
Bu Yi kept analyzing the signal feeds displayed in his ship's control room—transmissions synced with a detached scouting vessel.
Through the signal trail, he could track where the pilot had gone and what they were attempting.
But then, the signal went dark.
The transmitter aboard the shuttle had been melted by extreme heat—completely destroyed.
Still, before the blackout, Bu Yi caught the vessel's last coordinates.
It was precisely at the outer edge of the Day of Destruction's expansion range.
"…Sora…"
He murmured the name of the new recruit to the Galaxy Rangers—now vanished without a trace.
It was the first time someone had struck him as truly mysterious.
But before he could continue pondering, a new comm line connected to his ship.
Bu Yi assumed it was just another trade colony pestering him for updates on the Emanator.
Instead—it was a child.
His ship's AI instantly pulled up her profile.
"Chairwoman Anna? What can I help you with?"
Indeed—it was Anna speaking from the other end.
"I… I have something I need to ask," she said timidly.
"Of course. Ask anything you need."
"Can the Day of Destruction… change the data inside a mobile terminal?"
Bu Yi blinked at the question—startled—but quickly shook his head.
"The Day of Destruction is nothing more than an energy-expansion event. It can't do something like that."
Anna bit her lip, her gaze dropping.
In her hand, her terminal showed a photo—a family portrait.
A photo of her and two adults, one man and one woman—her parents.
But they were supposed to have died five years ago.
And yet here was a photo—taken three years ago.
With a handwritten note attached.
We're leaving the house in your care. Once we find a way to save the planet, we'll be back.
But you… you already…
You died… right in front of me... didn't you?
Her hands trembled as she stared at the picture that shouldn't exist.
And yet, somewhere deep inside—a tiny hope stirred.
Maybe... just maybe...
---
"[Haou Kidoku Juu Seiken!]!"
Ten sacred blades shimmered in the blue of the galaxy, spinning with Hoshigaki Sora's will as they danced through the starlit void.
One by one, the devoured worlds were reforged, and the massive planet beside Sora had grown large enough to support his full stance atop its surface.
He stood upon it, watching the rebirth unfold.
Like a simulation of civilization, the planet accelerated through the epochs. In an instant, millennia of change swept by.
Primitive structures rose, collapsed, and were replaced by new ones.
The cycle repeated countless times—until finally, urban skylines began to take shape.
Sora felt the rhythm of progress, civilization blooming anew beneath his feet, until the planet reached its original scale.
Verdant forests spread across the land. Houses built in harmony with nature stood between the trees. Massive neon billboards flickered with silent energy, signaling clearly—this was no primitive age.
There was just one thing missing.
The planet was utterly empty.
No people. No life. Just vast, hollow silence.
Time to push to the second node.
Sora called upon the omniscient power flowing through him, tracing the heartbeat of civilization.
Only by reaching the second narrative node could he fully anchor both life and progress into the world.
Then the ground trembled.
A fissure cracked its way from the horizon, crawling straight toward Sora's feet.
And from that rift—emerged a towering beast. Familiar. Massive.
It clawed its way up from the earth, shaking off the dust of ages.
With a few loops through the air, it landed before Sora, confused.
"Roar?" (What's going on?)
Clearly, its memory still lingered at the point where it had fought beside Sora.
And with its arrival, page-like silhouettes began to materialize all around—humanoid figures assembling from the ether, taking form across the land.
One by one, people began to reappear on the planet's surface.
The flame of civilization rekindled, lighting up what had once been a silent graveyard of a world.
Many of them clustered near Sora and the massive beast, watching curiously.
"It's nothing. Just... a small thing."
Sora reached out and patted the beast's armored hide—its frame sleek and resplendent.
No... not a Doomsday Beast anymore.
"You're the guardian deity of Promia now."
What had once been a collective consciousness had now become corporeal—capable of existing in the open, even traveling alongside the Galaxy Rangers.
It was, perhaps, the first real freedom it had ever known.
"Roar?" (What's that mean?)
Sora chuckled and turned.
Three silhouettes had appeared.
The very senpai who had just helped him.
"Job's done. We're heading out," Shotaro said with a casual wave.
"That fast?"
"Don't worry—we'll meet again." The detective duo dissolved into drifting pages.
Even as they vanished, a faint voice could be heard—still bickering, of course.
Only Sora and Touma Kamiyama remained.
"You've fulfilled the promise," Touma said, stepping forward to pat Sora on the shoulder.
"Well, yeah. Of course I did," Sora replied with a grin.
I mean, I had you—the Flame Swordsman—as my guide, didn't I?
"Then it's time you took a break."
"Huh—?"
Before Sora could react, a heavy blow landed squarely on the back of his neck.
"Seriously—take care of yourself," Touma muttered, peeling back Sora's sleeve and revealing his half-transparent arm.
"Still stable... you didn't burn through too much. With some proper rest, you'll recover."
Now it's my turn...
Whoever made you break your promise so many times—
I'm not letting them go.
Touma gently laid Sora in the palm of Promia's guardian deity.
Then he bent down and picked up the blue sword resting on the ground.
He may have been forged from pages and stories, but that didn't mean he lacked strength.
"In stories lie infinite possibilities. But if civilization perishes—those possibilities vanish too."
He dissolved into paper—but didn't vanish.
Using Almighty's power, he traveled elsewhere.
---
A few system ticks later...
Across the galaxy, the Astral Express, the IPC, the Xianzhou—all received a single broadcast from the Intelligentsia Guild.
[ALERT: Aeon of Destruction—Nanook—has been attacked. The attacker struck once and disappeared].
[Nanook's advance has ceased for the first time in millennia].
[Over 3,000 planets have gained time to evacuate].