Night faded slowly over Arkion — a city that never truly slept.
The spires glowed like fangs against the indigo dawn, and the voices of the sleepless elite echoed faintly through the empty marble streets.
Somewhere in a lavish manor north of the capital district, Rei Kagetsu knelt before her father.
The Kagetsu Manor
"Speak," Lord Kagetsu said, voice low but sharp. He sat on a seat carved from obsidian, the symbol of frost etched along its sides. Behind him, frost-covered banners displayed the sigil of the Kagetsu family — a silver lotus caught in a storm of ice shards.
Rei hesitated. "Father… there was a man. At the auction. He wasn't listed among the invitees. His presence—"
"Who was he?"
"I don't know. I followed him afterward, but…" She clenched her fists. "He overwhelmed my circuit's perception. His aura— it wasn't measurable. Even now, I can't recall his face properly."
Lord Kagetsu's eyes narrowed. "Impossible."
He gestured to one of his aides. "Trace all guest entries from last night. Every name, every record, every frequency signature in the mana registry."
The aide bowed, pressing a hand to the circular emblem that glowed with a faint digital shimmer — Arkion's Authority Network, a system tied to the Central Aether Codex.
The glow flickered once. Then again.
A red rune flashed across the projection: [ACCESS DENIED: AUTHORITY OVERRIDE FAILED.]
"What?" The aide tried again, voice trembling. "Retrying Authority Clearance—Level Seven."
The same line burned brighter:
[REQUEST DENIED. TARGET: ANONYMIZED. TRACE BLOCKED AT SOURCE.]
Silence filled the room.
Lord Kagetsu rose slowly, eyes cold as ice. "No one can block an Arkion Trace. Not even the Council."
Rei looked down. "He can."
Lord Kagetsu frowned. "Whoever this man is… I want to know everything. Every word he spoke. Every motion. If he can defy the Authority, he is not a commoner. He is an anomaly."
The Next Morning-
I woke with the sun creeping through the blinds, faint warmth brushing my face.
The city was louder now — merchants calling, distant engines humming, children laughing in the streets below. I sat by the window, sipping black coffee, observing Arkion through glass tinted with mana-filter.
Last night's event had already spread through whispers. A mysterious figure who silenced the Kagetsu heiress without a touch. The stories exaggerated, of course — but exaggeration was data too.
I smiled faintly.
Authority override failed, huh? Good.
I had written my own rules into the world — literally. When I integrated the Soul Circuit's "Narrative Override Function," I embedded a recursive encryption within my existence. It meant if I didn't want to be found, every attempt to trace me would loop infinitely. Even gods, should they peer through the veils, would only see blank pages where I stood.
It was amusing. Being untraceable wasn't about hiding — it was about redefining what "visibility" meant.
But peace never lasted long.
Around noon, while wandering through Arkion's lower districts — the veins of the city where information traded faster than blood — I saw it.
A group of armored men dragging women into a carriage marked with runes. Their movements were efficient, deliberate. No one intervened; the guards wore the city's crest.
At first glance, it looked like a standard arrest.
But my eyes caught the faint pulse of malformed mana around their hands — residue of summoning magic. Old. Infernal.
My vision flickered. Koketsu's slit narrowed, enhancing the light spectrum. I traced the mana flow to a sigil etched beneath the carriage — an inverted cross surrounded by seventy-two miniature runes.
My breath stilled.
"Seventy-two seals…" I muttered under my breath. "They're trying to summon the Ars Daemonium."
The codex of the old world — seventy-two demons, remnants of the original Abyssal Code. Each one a living virus of thought, designed to rewrite matter, mind, and morality.
So Arkion hides this too.
I followed quietly, unseen, my circuit masking sound and light.
The carriage stopped at an old cathedral on the outskirts of the city. Its spires leaned like bones under the weight of centuries. From the cracks in its floor, black mist bled — concentrated demonic essence.
Inside, I saw them. The cult. Fifty or more, kneeling around a circular altar, chanting. The women tied at the center — trembling, crying. The runes glowed brighter.
It was disgusting.
Not because of morality — morality is mutable — but because of the inefficiency. The waste. Trading life for unstable power was crude. Sloppy. Barbaric.
Still… this couldn't continue.
That night, I sat in my rented apartment, candlelight flickering against the walls. Papers, circuits, and floating projections surrounded me.
"I'll need a counterbalance," I said softly. "Something divine to confront the infernal."
John Merciless was built for intellect and brutality. The mind of order wrapped in chaos.
This new one… would be the inverse.
If John was the shadow of my logic, then this would be the light of my imagination.
I closed my eyes and began constructing him.
"Alzwalt Light," I murmured.
A golden being — arrogance incarnate, yet pure. 5'11, athletic build. Golden hair that shimmered even in darkness. Golden eyes that reflected judgment itself. His voice would carry ancient authority — not anger, but declaration.
He'd wear gold and purple — the colors of dominion and divinity.
Unlike John, who thrived in manipulation, Alzwalt would manifest. His presence itself would cleanse corruption.
Light wasn't merely illumination — it was data, order, structure. Everything evil, twisted, chaotic — they could not exist where order reached perfection. That was his core philosophy.
His powers would follow that logic.
The Abilities Alzwalt will have-
Revelation – Manifestation of divine calculation. By spreading his arms and aligning Koketsu's geometric code with the heavens, he synchronizes with the world's higher frequency layer, summoning six wings of golden Aether. When his right hand drops, a giant sword of condensed photons descends — the "Judgment Blade." It erases demonic data, rewriting the terrain itself to a sanctified state.
White Equinox – Converts surrounding light particles into absolute equilibrium, freezing time in an area for a fraction of a second, forcing balance. Used to intercept or reflect energy-based attacks by neutralizing their entropy.
Heaven's Fall – Collapses spatial coordinates in vertical motion, causing columns of radiant destruction to fall in sequence. Think of it as a divine artillery strike from the higher planes.
Armageddon – Thousands of golden meteors, each inscribed with exorcistic runes, descend simultaneously, targeting demonic circuits. The impact converts negative energy to pure light, overloading any Abyssal code.
Golden Extinction – The ultimate failsafe. A small orb of light falls gently — deceptively quiet — then detonates into an infinite wave of radiance. Anything with hostility, corruption, or ill intent within range is rewritten into nonexistence. Only pure code remains.
Each attack follows the same logic: Purity through information order.
If demonic essence is corrupted data, Alzwalt's light is the antivirus — the celestial algorithm.
The Logic Behind Divinity-
Light heals because it restores lost information.
Light destroys because it exposes truth.
Light purifies because corruption cannot survive exposure.
It's not holiness. It's clarity.
And clarity, when absolute, becomes divine.
Alzwalt would be the opposite of me — not quiet, not subtle.
He would descend upon chaos like a sovereign who already knows he is adored by the heavens.
Arrogant, regal, poetic. His tone archaic, his diction deliberate. When he speaks, every word should sound like scripture rewritten by will.
But beneath that arrogance lies precision — his every gesture calculated, every movement optimal.
He is not a savior. He is inevitability.
I stared at the city lights flickering below my window. Somewhere beneath, the cult would gather again. They would finish their chant, bring forth their demons.
Perfect.
Because tomorrow, Alzwalt Light would awaken.
I closed my notebook, the page inked with the golden sigil of his new circuit — Luminis Orbis — the Circuit of Radiant Order.
And as I extinguished the candle, I whispered to the night:
"If John is the storm that tears down the corrupted world… then Alzwalt will be the dawn that burns what's left."