The rest of the loop was spent planning. Lumos spent most of his time with Keill, supposedly going over notes…
Elion, meanwhile, revised every word he had to say—every action he needed to take—to convince the general of the human camp to retreat.
For the last two days, he avoided Farha. He didn't want to talk to her anymore. He knew it was petty—but he didn't care. He had opened up to her, but she still kept everything close to her chest. It was hypocritical to resent her for that, given his own history of deception… but still.
And then there was what she'd said—about seeing someone else when she looked at him.
That one hurt.
He thought he'd done a decent job of being genuine with her. Of showing her who he really was. But apparently, that part of him was gone.
Have I… really lost myself?
This time loop—this whole expedition—had taken its toll on his mental state, whether he admitted it or not. He'd always known that becoming an Unlocked would be hard, but he didn't expect to be crushed so completely, so early in his journey.
At least things were looking up now. If everything went according to plan, these next four days would be his last in this cursed loop.
But he was far from out of the woods. Escaping the loop would just send him back to the Depths. He still had to find a First Finger and somehow get back up to Nexus.
The thought alone soured his mood.
One step at a time. Keep moving. One foot forward—don't stop.
Soon, everything would reset.
The sharp crack of railguns split the air. A massive warship descended toward the Earth God's hidden base.
And then, the world was consumed by blue plasma.
Elion was back at the beginning.
Hopefully for the last time.
He looked around. Everything was exactly where it should be. The others were acting as they had countless times before. Since this was meant to be the final loop, Elion resolved to act rationally—though he wasn't sure how much rationality he had left in him.
"Everyone, gather around. I have something to explain," he called, his voice firm.
The Unlocked turned to look at him, surprised by the authority in his tone.
He approached Joart, locking eyes with the man.
"What do you want?" Joart sneered bitterly.
Without a word, Elion struck him hard across the head, knocking him out cold.
As much as he wanted to behead the bastard on the spot, it wasn't the best choice. It would only divide the group. He'd tried that before. No, better to let Joart's own goons deal with him, just like during the vacation loop.
"What are you—" Talom began, stepping forward, but Elion cut him off.
"We're stuck in a time loop," the young cook said, projecting like a general addressing troops. "We have been for a while. But this is going to be the last."
Confused murmurs spread through the group.
"Lumos can send notes through time. He'll back me up. As for Joart—he's a traitor. Has been ever since you washed up in the Dwellers of the Depths' village."
"What the hell are you talking about?!" Talom snapped, his eyes burning with fury.
"Let me finish," Elion said calmly. "Joart killed me in my sleep twice. I interrogated him in one of the loops. He confessed to murdering most of your group. They did not die to monsters of the Depths as he preached."
"Why… why would he do that?" Hela asked, her face somber.
"He enjoyed it," Elion answered with indifference. "Became addicted to the feeling of taking lives. Of stealing souls."
Talom froze, his expression darkening. He turned to Lumos for confirmation.
The sorcerer nodded grimly.
"Everything he said is true."
A heavy silence fell.
Hela's eyes burned with fury. Alphonse stared blankly at Joart's unconscious form. Leonard looked ready to explode. But Talom… he was crushed. Joart had been his childhood friend.
Hela stood, her face grim, and performed her quiet execution—just like she had done during the vacation.
That's taken care of.
Elion resisted the urge to comedically dust off his hands and turned to Lumos.
"Have you had time to read all your notes?"
The sorcerer nodded slowly.
"Great. Go meet up with Keill—you two know your part. I'll handle my solo mission."
Lumos didn't move. It was weird seeing him without the suit and short hair he'd worn last loop.
"I… have I really loved her?" he asked, embarrassed by asking such a question.
Elion raised an eyebrow, then chuckled.
"You two were glued together like flamboyant idiots the entire last loop."
Lumos frowned.
"It's strange. I've never even met her, but my notes paint a different story."
"You'll see soon enough." Elion turned to leave. "I've got to move, or I'll miss my window."
The sorcerer nodded.
"Alright, I'll take the lead over here."
"Oh, right, give your amulet to Farha, it's done," the young cook reminded him.
The mute girl raised an eyebrow. She looked at Elion the same way she always had. To her, nothing had changed. But it felt wrong now.
He didn't return her gaze. Just waved dismissively.
As he left, Lumos called out:
"You don't look as deranged as I described you."
Elion paused.
"I can tell something's going on. But what did you do for my past self to be so on edge?"
The young cook waved a hand, not even turning to face the sorcerer.
"Good luck, Lumos," he said, disappearing into the meadow.
Elion moved through the forest, unease on his face. If things went wrong, he'd face Miss Shadow's clones again. He was as scared of her as he wanted to see her bleed.
Fortunately, Keill's information held true. He slipped into the human camp undetected, avoiding being turned to sashimi by an onyx blade.
In front of him sprawled a militarized camp—filled with humans like him, working to keep everything running. It was reassuring, in a way. The first real human settlement since he left S33.
But the soldiers' faces were grim and tired, likely due to the repeated attacks by the Dweller of the Depths.
Elion waltzed in like he owned the place, high shoulders and a confident gaze. He looked completely out of place with his torn camo gear and sword since most soldiers here used rifles. They wore sleek red combat suits with black accents, each bearing the blazing sun insignia on the shoulder—bright against the fabric, like a distant god's eye watching from above.
It didn't take long for someone to question Elion's identity since they were on high alert.
A blonde soldier with tired eyes stepped forward.
"Identify yourself," he said in Terask.
Elion had the basics down, he had learned a lot from Keill during their planning, though his accent was still rough.
"I don't need to tell you anything. Bring me to General Yon," Elion commanded, his voice cold.
The soldier narrowed his eyes.
"And who the hell are you?"
"I got past the High Lord to get here. Bring me to Yon, or your blood stains the grass beneath you," Elion replied with quiet menace.
Fear flickered across the soldier's face—mixed with respect. And… hope?
He nodded.
"Follow me."
Elion strutted behind him, ignoring the stares he drew from the rest of the camp.
It was sizable—tents, vehicles, even towering power-armored exosuits, some up to five meters tall. Each bore the blazing sun emblem.
They looked straight out of a sci-fi novel.
Eventually, they reached a large tent.
The flap opened to reveal three men in distinct uniforms—clearly commanders. One of them, grey-haired and overworked, studied a map.
"Sir, I brought a messenger," the soldier said, straightening.
The man glanced up.
"Who is it?" he asked, clearly uninterested.
Here we go…
Elion bowed deeply.
"I bid thee welcome, O envoy of the Sun. I am Elion, herald of our lord Yarhim."
The two others blinked, their expressions turning from annoyed to hope and respect. Only the general remained skeptical.
Going just as planned.