The void beneath me had vanished, replaced by the familiar azure glow of Kael'Ar. Yet everything had changed — not in shape or form, but in awareness. Floating above the clouds, I let the world's subtle vibrations run through my circuits. Every pulse, every resonance from the continents, the floating islands, and even the cities' leyline grids whispered the same truth: the solar system had been undone, then perfectly remade.
Far away, in the sky-bound sanctuaries where the world's strongest had gathered — cloaked in anonymity, drifting across floating islands tethered to nothing but arcane energies — the shockwave of Stellar Oblivion had reached them. Beings whose power dwarfed nations felt it like the strike of a divine hammer. Their minds raced, hearts quickened, and some even laughed in quiet exhilaration.
"What… did this?" one thought, face unreadable beneath a hood of living metal.
A ripple ran through the leyline of the entire world; even the natural circuits of the strongest awakened users trembled, a reminder that someone — something — had rewritten reality itself. Curiosity, fear, and anticipation danced across continents, continents far beyond Arkion and Karveth.
And yet, no one knew. No one could trace it. Not yet.
I descended slowly, wings folded, energy subtle. The world around me saw nothing. I was a ghost. A shadow of inevitability.
Meanwhile, in Arkion, the aftermath of the recent demon siege had left the city's skyline a jagged silhouette of partially rebuilt towers. Alzwalt Light moved among the clouds like liquid sunlight, blades of radiant energy slicing through the air, each swing cleaving into the manifestations of one of the Seven Sins — Wrath, in his case. The demon's body erupted into sparks of hellish energy as Alzwalt pivoted effortlessly, wings fanning out like golden storms, light humming through the veins of his sword.
He struck with a divine precision, not just brute force. The light licked across the demon's form, purifying corrupted energy and reducing its movements to nothing but reactive desperation.
"Do you understand yet?" Alzwalt's voice resonated like a chime across the battlefield. "This is no world for your chaos. Not while I am here."
Wrath lashed back, claws tearing through the air, but every strike was countered, absorbed, or redirected by the elegance of pure light. Sparks rained like micro-meteors, leaving scorch marks on the streets below. The population fled in terror and awe, but all remained safe under the protective aura Alzwalt maintained around Arkion.
Meanwhile, in Karveth, John Merciless leaned casually against the edge of a rooftop as the Sin assigned to him, Greed, attempted to assault the city. John's left eye glimmered faintly, the energy of Koketsu humming beneath his skin. One hand rested on his black-silver sword, the other in his pocket, his posture impossibly relaxed despite the destruction unfolding below.
"You really think wealth and greed can challenge me?" John's voice cut across the battlefield, low and measured, carrying the kind of arrogance that bent the will of men. "You should have stayed in Hell's library, reading about what happens to fools who overreach."
With a blink, John was gone, reappearing above Greed's shoulder, blade pointed at the demon's chest. Greed flinched, realizing too late that every strike John made was not to kill but to demonstrate the futility of opposition.
The fight escalated like an elegant dance — Greed moved with blinding speed, attempting to consume or manipulate wealth energy scattered around the city, while John countered, flowing around him like liquid shadow. Each movement carried the weight of someone who had predicted multiple outcomes simultaneously.
Finally, John leapt high above the city, flipping backwards, landing atop the guild hall, letting Greed smash into the pavement harmlessly. He flicked his sword casually, and a pulse of shadow immobilized the demon for a brief moment — a statement rather than an attack.
"Playtime isn't over," John said, voice echoing with amusement. "But the lesson… is inevitable."
Back in Kael'Ar's atmosphere, I adjusted my descent, letting my mind drift over the world like a chessboard. Each Sin was in motion, each demon lord still a threat, but all were being handled simultaneously — by Alzwalt, John Merciless, and the world's unseen strong.
I calculated trajectories, probable outcomes, and chain reactions. Not because I wanted to micromanage — that belonged to Arata, the planner — but because the planet's safety, its circuits, and the lives of mortals demanded my precision.
And all the while, floating far above the continents, the world's strongest, isolated in their skyborne sanctuaries, watched. Their silent attention was as tangible as any battlefield. Some were wary, some curious, some thrilled. A few shifted subtly, sensing that whoever had rebuilt Kael'Ar with nothing more than intent and Soul Circuit mastery was not to be underestimated.
Below, city streets shook with the residual energy of clashes between demons and the avatars of divine light. Sparks of holy energy and darkness clashed, scattering debris, but never spilling blood unnecessarily — this was containment, precision, and spectacle all at once.
I smiled faintly, observing both my personas — light and shadow — executing their tasks perfectly. Arkion would survive, Karveth would stand, and the floating islands of the world's greatest would whisper of an entity that bent the laws of reality itself.
For now, I let them fight, let the world's strongest observers whisper among themselves, and allowed my circuits to hum with satisfaction.
The world had been rebuilt, but not tamed. And I intended to enjoy every move in this new game.