.
.
.
Strip away his need to respond for thirty minutes.
…And with that silent declaration, Ashen found himself staying motionless.
"Ah, how scary… My dear Ashen… Ashen Hart was your real name, right? Anyway, Mr. Ashen Hart, I had to do this so that we can have a civilized discussion. I hope you won't hold it against me." Cassius even had an apologetic look as he spoke.
"...As to how I was able to halt your steps, it's quite easy… You see, a certain curse afflicted me. And only now was I able to somehow control aspects of it by using a certain skill that I recently gained."
Cassius took slow steps toward Ashen as he casually explained the reason for his helplessness.
"The skill is called Confession. Fitting, don't you think? For someone whose epithet is Oathbound Confessor." He circled Ashen like a predator examining prey, though his tone remained conversational. "When I confess a secret—any secret, no matter how small—the curse I carry activates along a specific path. My path. Instead of randomly killing anyone nearby when I speak forbidden knowledge, it now follows the framework of my skill."
'Is he just explaining this to gloat?' Ashen thought, his mind racing even as his body refused to move. 'Wait… No! He's confessing it. Which means—'
"Which means every word I speak to you carries weight," Cassius finished, and Ashen's blood ran cold. "Ah, yes. I can see that realization in your eyes. The Astrologer isn't just about prediction, Ashen Hart. It reads the constellation of your personality: your fears, desires, beliefs, the very architecture of your identity."
Cassius stopped directly in front of him, red eyes glowing faintly in the darkness. "Your thoughts are quite loud when you're trying so hard to hide them. 'Are his predictions not accurate?' you wondered. The answer is simple: I don't predict the future. I read what makes you you, and from that, the future becomes obvious."
'Fuck. Shit. Damn it!' Ashen's mind churned. 'Then he must know—'
"Everything," Cassius supplied helpfully. "I know about your beliefs, your goals, that delicious conviction that you're somehow the world's salvation. I watched your fight against the Narkal wave with great interest. Do you know how I was able to spy on you? How I infiltrated this siege so easily?"
He gestured vaguely toward the distant encampment. "The Veiled Moon has many talents. Some can slip through obstacles like smoke. Others can carry my consciousness across vast distances. And some…" His smile widened, tinged with madness. "Some can die obediently when I need to test certain theories."
'He's insane. Completely fucking insane.' But even as Ashen thought it, he noticed the careful precision in Cassius's movements, the calculated madness in his eyes. This was the focused intensity of someone who'd turned their broken mind into a weapon.
"Now then," Cassius said, pulling something from his coat. The multicolored stone caught the moonlight, pulsing with an irregular rhythm. "Let me share some more secrets with you. Secrets that will help me understand just how infinite that willpower of yours truly is."
Strip away his belief that he can protect Alice Sinclair for thirty minutes.
The effect was instantaneous.
Ashen's world tilted as something fundamental was ripped from the core of his being. Alice's face… her smile, her trust, the weight of her hand in his… became distant. He could remember caring, but the feeling of it vanished.
'What—'
"There," Cassius said softly, watching him with the intensity of a surgeon examining an incision. "Your first pillar, removed. Now, let's add something to replace it. A little scenario, if you will."
For the next thirty minutes, believe you failed to save Alice Sinclair. Believe you watched her die screaming your name.
The false memory crashed into Ashen's mind with the significance of lived experience:
Alice's eyes wide with betrayal, blood spreading across her dress as Narkal claws tore through her chest. Her hand reaching for him, fingers grasping at air. "Ashen… why…?"
Horror and grief slammed through him, but underneath it—
'No. That's not real. It's not—'
But the belief was there, iron-clad, warring with logic. He knew she'd died. He could see it, feel it, taste the failure like ash in his mouth.
And yet. And yet…
His will didn't break.
It simply redirected.
Cassius's eyes widened slightly. "Fascinating. The Astrologer shows me… ah. A new constellation is forming. Revenge, is it? If you can't protect, then you'll destroy what took her from you. Your identity adapts rather than shatters."
He leaned closer, examining Ashen like a fascinating insect. "Let's try something else, then."
Strip away his belief that he can save his family for thirty minutes.
Strip away his habit of fighting through exhaustion for thirty minutes.
For the next thirty minutes, believe your mother died cursing your weakness.
For the next thirty minutes, believe your sister begged you to save her and you couldn't move.
The attacks came rapid-fire, each one peeling away another layer of what made Ashen Ashen. Memories—false but feeling true—layered over each other in a cascade of failure and loss.
His mother's disappointed eyes. His sister's small body broken. Alice's grave, fresh dirt, his hands bloody from digging.
'This isn't real this isn't real this ISN'T REAL—'
But the belief persisted, and with each pillar removed, each foundation cracked, his sense of self should have collapsed.
Should have.
Cassius circled him again, faster now, excitement bleeding into his controlled madness. "Still standing? Even with your family gone? Even with your precious Alice erased from your future? Then what about this—"
Strip away his identity as humanity's salvation for thirty minutes.
For the next thirty minutes, believe humanity is doomed and nothing you do matters.
The weight of futility crashed down. Ashen could see it with perfect clarity: Gods circling above, seven entities of incomprehensible power. The Shroud collapsing. The endless waves of Narkals that were merely fodder—bottom-tier trash produced endlessly by something called the Broodfather of Sterile Fertility.
Entities more powerful than anything humanity had ever faced, waiting beyond. Gods that killed with spoken truths…
Seven Outer Gods.
And humanity—fractured, fighting itself, burning talents like fuel just to hold a single domain.
'We're going to lose. We've already lost. This was decided before we were even born.'
His identity as the world's eventual savior crumbled, his belief that with enough effort he could change the outcome tore, the grandiose delusion exposed for what it was: a child's fantasy in the face of cosmic indifference.
And yet… AND YET…
Something remained.
Cassius stopped circling. His expression veered from excitement to awe.
"Remarkable…!!!" he breathed. "The Astrologer shows me your birth. Not your physical birth, but the moment your new constellation forms. Watch—"
If I can't save them, I'll kill what took them from me.
If I can't protect humanity, I'll destroy the gods that doomed them.
If I can't be the salvation, I'll be the weapon.
If I can't win, I'll make them PAY for their victory.
Each time Cassius stripped away a pillar of Ashen's willpower, a new one grew in its place. Not from hope or determination or love—but from sheer, stubborn, spite-fueled REFUSAL to stop.
'You can take everything from me,' something in Ashen's core whispered. 'Every reason to fight. Every person I love. Every scrap of hope. AND I'LL STILL COME FOR YOU.'
The willpower didn't dim.
It transformed.
From noble to savage. From protective to destructive. From "I will save them" to "I will kill you."
But it never wavered.
Cassius stood frozen, staring at something only he could see through the Astrologer. "Infinite," he murmured. "Truly infinite. No matter what I take, something grows back. No matter what scenario I create, you find a new reason. It's not that you won't break—it's that you can't. Your will reconfigures itself endlessly, adapting, surviving, persisting…"
A laugh bubbled up from his throat, quiet at first, then building. "Hahahaha... HAHAHAHA!"
The sound was unhinged, raw with emotions Cassius had thought long dead.
Return what was stripped.
The false memories shattered. Ashen gasped as his true self rushed back—Alice alive, his family safe, his purpose intact. The whiplash of having his identity torn apart and reassembled left him shuddering.
And through it all, one truth remained crystalline:
He would never give up.
Cassius's laughter died into something softer, almost wistful. "Do you understand what I just did to you?"
Ashen found his voice, raw and scraped. "You... tested me."
"I tortured you," Cassius corrected. "I manufactured scenarios designed to break anyone. I stripped away every reason you have to keep fighting. I showed you futility, loss, failure… everything that should make a man lay down and die."
His red eyes glowed brighter. "And you didn't even bend."
"Why?" Ashen forced out. His body was still locked in place, but his voice worked again. "Why do this?"
"Because," Cassius said, and his voice dropped to something deadly serious, "I needed to know if you were real. If that infinite willpower the Astrologer showed me was genuine or just an anomaly of your... unique circumstances."
He gestured with the stone, making it catch the light. "You see, Ashen Hart, I know what you are. Not just your name, not just your goals. I know you're not from this time… Well, I used to believe that it was your delusion, but I'm reconsidering. The Astrologer read your constellation and found threads that don't belong in this period… echoes of events that haven't happened yet, knowledge of outcomes not yet written."
'He knows after all...' The realization should have terrified Ashen, but after what he'd just endured, fear seemed quaint.
"And I don't care," Cassius continued, beginning to pace again. "Time, causality, paradox—none of it matters to me. Because whether you succeed in this timeline or some future one, whether you save humanity now or centuries from now..."
His voice dropped to a whisper. "As long as they die, I'll be content."
"They?" Ashen asked, though he already knew.
"The Outer Gods," Cassius said, and the hatred in his voice could have melted steel. "Seven entities circling our world like vultures. The Keeper of What Should Not Be Known—Secrets, as He likes to be called. The Broodfather of Sterile Fertility who spawns endless Narkals. Five others whose names I would have paid in blood to learn."
He stopped in front of Ashen again. "I hate humans, Ashen Hart. Make no mistake about that. After what they did, after what I lost, I would gladly watch humanity burn. I have watched humanity burn, again and again, and felt nothing."
His hands clenched. "But my hatred for humans is nothing compared to what I feel for Them. The beings who cursed me, who took my hope, who set this entire cosmic joke in motion. The gods who look down at our struggles with amusement."
"...So when I discovered you," Cassius continued, his voice rising with barely controlled fervor, "when the Astrologer showed me a man with infinite will who identifies himself as humanity's salvation, who has knowledge from outside time itself—I had to know. Had to test if you were truly capable of what I can never do."
He leaned in close, eyes wild. "Can you kill a god, Ashen Hart? Can you actually do it?"
Ashen met his gaze steadily. "I don't know."
"But you'll try," Cassius said. It wasn't a question.
"...Yes."
"Even knowing they're beings of incomprehensible power? Even knowing the Narkals you fight are cosmic trash, that the real threats haven't even bothered to take you seriously yet? Even knowing seven Outer Gods circle above, and the Shroud that protects humanity weakens more each day?"
"Yes."
"Even if it's futile? Even if you're doomed to fail?"
"...Especially then."
Cassius straightened, and for the first time, something like genuine emotion crossed his face. "Good. Then consider this my gift."
He tapped his temple. "The Astrologer. My curse. My burden. But also my weapon. When you face me in the future—and oh, you will face me, make no mistake—you'll need to understand how it works."
"How can I believe you…?"
"I'm confessing it," Cassius exclaimed, his voice taking on an edge that made the air feel heavier. "Every word I've spoken tonight has been a confession. Which means it is undoubtedly and utterly true. The curse guarantees it—I cannot lie when confessing. So when I tell you about the Outer Gods, about my abilities, about what's coming..."
He leaned closer, red eyes burning with intensity. "You can trust every syllable with your life."
He smiled, and it was the saddest expression Ashen had ever seen. "Consider it payment. Information about the Outer Gods, about the Astrologer, about the Veiled Moon's capabilities… all of it freely given. Payment for a minuscule chance to have them fall when the time comes."
"...You want me to kill you? Are you fine with it?" Ashen asked, figuring that Cassius already knew that he wasn't talking about the current him.
"I want you to kill them," Cassius said, and his voice rose with sudden ferocity that made Ashen's paralyzed body try to flinch. "If you have to go through me to do it, so be it! If I'm standing in your way when you finally reach for those gods, cut me down without hesitation. Please, I'll thank you for it!"
His composure cracked further, madness bleeding through. "But more than that, I want you to succeed where I failed. To do what I no longer can. My hope is gone, Ashen Hart. Secrets took it from me years ago when He killed my team, when He cursed me, when He made it so I can never share what I learned without murdering everyone around me!"
His hands trembled, clenching and unclenching. "Do you understand what that's like? To know the truth? To see the doom hanging over humanity? To watch them squabble and fight and waste themselves while the real enemies wait above, laughing? To know you could warn them, could save them, but the moment you try—the moment you open your mouth—they die?"
His voice broke. "My wife. My daughter. They died because humanity is a den of monsters wearing human skin. But even them, even them—they deserved to know what was coming. They deserved a chance. And I couldn't give it to them because of Him. Because Secrets made sure the truth would kill faster than ignorance ever could."
Cassius's red eyes were wet now, though no tears fell. "So yes, I hate humans. Yes, I've killed them. Yes, I'll kill more. But you…"
His gaze locked onto Ashen with terrible, desperate intensity. "You who can have everything stripped away and still find a reason to fight. You who adapts instead of breaking. You who refuses to give up no matter what—"
"You might actually do it."
The words came out as half prayer, half plea.
"The information I've given you tonight serves another purpose," Cassius continued, forcing his voice back to something resembling control. "Just by telling you about the Outer Gods, by speaking their names, by revealing Secrets' true nature—I've ensured that He won't be able to use this knowledge to curse you when the time comes. You've heard it once, paid the price in proximity to my curse. When you hear it again, the cost will already be paid."
He snapped his fingers, as if remembering something. "Also, forget about thinking of making the future me into an ally. I know myself best, so I can tell you with complete certainty that it will not happen. The me of right now is barely holding himself back from killing you and every other human on this planet."
Cassius's features warped for a brief instant into one of intense rage before he eased, his voice dropping to something cold and hollow. "Thankfully, I'm barely satisfied after killing every human in the Pride Domain alongside those three million soldiers… They ought to accompany my dear wife and daughter in the afterlife. Isn't that poetic? The cream of humanity's crop, rotting beside my family. Equal at last."
'If the current version looks inches away from turning completely deranged,' Ashen realized, 'then what about his future self?'
"Smart boy," Cassius said, reading his expression, and his smile turned vicious. "That's exactly right. I don't know exactly how my future looks, but if I didn't find you tonight, if you hadn't proven yourself real, I would have done my absolute damndest to pour all my wrath into my secondary target: The Human race. Every. Single. One. Until only ashes remain."
He turned away, looking up at the stars. "I've been preparing for years, building the Veiled Moon, gathering information, learning how the curse works. All of it leading to the moment where I see humanity crumble. But you reduced all the destruction to merely a single Domain, and even got out of it alive…"
His voice took on a strange quality—half admiration, half resentment. "Do you know what that means? Do you understand what you represent?"
He spun back, and his eyes were blazing. "You're the variable. The anomaly. The one thing in this entire cursed planet that doesn't fit the pattern. I can read every human's constellation, predict their every move, but you… Your threads go places I can't see. Your future is writeable."
"...So what if I fail anyway?" Ashen asked, finding Cassius's reasoning too flimsy. Though a part of him wondered if it was too much to ask for reason from a madman.
"Then you fail," Cassius said simply, but his voice grew harder. "And I'll continue my original plan—killing humans until either they're all gone or I am. But at least I'll have tried. At least I'll have given you the tools. At least I'll have done something other than watch and hate and wait for the end."
His voice rose again, taking on a manic edge. "Because that's what it's like, you know. Living without hope. It's not peaceful. It's not numb. It's watching the days crawl by knowing they're all marching toward the same inevitable conclusion. It's seeing people smile and laugh and love and knowing—knowing—that it's all temporary. That something vast and terrible waits above, and when it finally descends, all their joy will mean nothing."
He laughed, and the sound was broken. "You want to know the worst part? The absolute worst fucking part? I still care. Somewhere deep down, some pathetic remnant of who I used to be still wants humanity to survive. Still wants us to win. But hope? The belief that we can?"
He shook his head violently. "Gone. Ripped out. Eaten by a god who thought it was funny. So all I have left is this—this thing I'm doing. Giving you information. Testing your will. Hoping—no, not hoping, I can't do that anymore—gambling that maybe, just maybe, you're the one who breaks this unbreakable calamity."
He glanced back over his shoulder, and his voice dropped to something more vulnerable. "It looks like your time is almost up…"
A smile tugged at his lips, sad and small and genuine. "Trust yourself. Trust that infinite will of yours. It won't let you down when it truly matters. Because if it does—if you break, if you fail, if you give up like I did—then this whole conversation meant nothing. Then I gave you the tools for nothing. Then my family died for nothing. Then everything I've become, every person I've killed, every sin I've committed in the name of maybe, possibly, someday getting revenge..."
His voice cracked. "All of it will have been for nothing."
Let his need to respond be restored.
Ashen stumbled as control of his body returned, catching himself on his spear. His muscles screamed from being held immobile for so long.
Cassius turned fully now, and Ashen could see the depth of exhaustion in those red eyes. The weariness of someone who'd been fighting too long with no hope of victory.
"Kill them for me," Cassius said, and his voice was barely a whisper now, all the fury drained away into desperate pleading. "Kill them for all of us. Kill them because they deserve it and because someone has to and because—"
His voice broke completely. "Because maybe if you do, it'll mean something. Maybe it'll mean my family didn't die for nothing. Maybe it'll mean I didn't lose my hope for nothing. Maybe it'll mean I didn't become this thing for nothing. Maybe—"
He cut himself off with a shuddering breath, forcing control back into his frame. When he spoke again, his voice was steady but hollow. "Just kill them. That's all I ask. That's all I can ask. That's all I have left to ask."
Ashen straightened, meeting Cassius's gaze. He wanted nothing more than to drive his spear into the man's heart and twist it until he ceased to live. The urge warred with pragmatism, with the knowledge that this madman had just handed him weapons he'd need for the real fight.
His brain still throbbed inside his skull, an echo of the torture Cassius had put him through. For a heartbeat, he nearly gave in and did it anyway.
In the end, he sighed wearily and just nodded. "I will."
"...I know," Cassius said, and he smiled a small and broken smile. "The Astrologer told me. Your constellation doesn't allow for any other outcome. You'll either kill them or die trying. And honestly…"
He laughed quietly, "Either way, I'm envious. If I had that infinite willpower, maybe… just maybe… I wouldn't have—"
The world lurched.
Reality bent sideways, and Ashen felt himself yanked away from his place… or more accurately, from this fragment of history itself.
{Activated Innate Skill: BEHOLDER'S GAZE}
The last thing Ashen heard before the vision—hearing?—faded completely:
"Ah, I'm so envious. If I had that infinite willpower, maybe… just maybe… wouldn't I have lost hope?"
The voice was wistful.
It was the voice of a man who'd given up everything except revenge.
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Volume 3: BEHOLD ~ End.