The darkness opened… Then it closed. It opened again And went out.
Atsuro's eyes opened halfway, Then shut immediately. They opened again, more slowly this time.
He raised his hand. The movement was slow. He looked at his palm. His fingers trembled. And the blood It was a lot.
It ran from his forehead, Soaked his hair, And slid down his face until it covered one of his eyes. He did not push it away. He let his hair fall, As if he did not want to see everything.
He breathed… Or tried to. He whispered, barely audible:
"…Is this… the end?"
The world around him was unclear. At the edge of his vision, A shadow moved.
Tsukishiro. He walked with steady steps, Heading straight toward Lilithia.
Atsuro's eyes widened slightly. He tried to move. His body did not respond. Then, A voice.
"…Atsuro…"
Lilithia's voice. Distant, Distorted, Reaching him in fragments.
"…Atsu…"
He gritted his teeth. In his chest, The first thing he felt was not pain. But something deeper. A tremor… Not of the body. A voice without language. A feeling without form.
He began to see them.
Flashes. Short. Heavy. Old battlefields. A shattered sky. Hands gripping the stone… And others hesitating.
Warriors whose names he did not know, Yet he felt the weight of their decisions. Spirits that had passed through here, Held their breath inside the stone, Then fell silent. His own breath widened slightly.
"…I hear them…"
He did not say it aloud. He said it inside himself.
"…And I see them."
The images were not his memories. They were older. Heavier.
"Memories… memories of the stone. Of the ancient warriors… The bearers of the Luck Stone… Those who came before me."
These were not words to be spoken, But knowledge imposed upon him suddenly, As if the stone Had been waiting for this very moment To speak.
And in the background, Tsukishiro Was drawing closer to Lilithia. And time, Was narrowing.
Then, The sound cut off. The arena went dark, And the pain faded.
_
—----- Flashback —---------------------------
Atsuro stood No ground beneath his feet, No sky above him. A still, black void.
Before him, The black dragon stood. Not a giant in the physical sense, But its presence Was enough to make existence itself bow.
Atsuro lowered his head slowly. Not in submission… But in respect.
And the dragon's voice trembled, As if coming from every direction:
"You are a genius, Atsuro."
He froze. He could not speak.
"You deserve the Tenth Stage… Even though you have only carried your stone For a single year."
The dragon stepped forward, And the void around it shivered.
"You have surpassed Even one of the leaders, And outpaced those who thought Time alone grants worthiness."
Atsuro bowed his head.
"But…"
The dragon said, And the weight of its voice shifted.
"This skill Does not grant power without a price."
The dragon lifted its claws slightly, And countless circles of probability Erupted around them. Scenes. Outcomes. Entire worlds Born and destroyed in an instant.
"Level 10 Does not choose a path… But closes all paths Except one."
Its voice drew closer:
"The stone Does not accept a result Without a reference point."
Silence. Then,
"And you… Chose yourself."
Atsuro's eyes widened. He understood.
If the Tenth Stage were used the last probability that concerned him Would be closed. Forever. No return.
The dragon spoke slowly, majestically:
"But… You can use the probability That leads To the wish of luck."
Silence prevailed. Atsuro closed his eyes. He did not hesitate.
"…If the outcome Protects those who remain..."
He opened his eyes.
"...Then let all my probabilities close."
The dragon did not smile. It did not object. It merely said:
"Then… The stone will record A single result."
And the void collapsed.
—---- Return —---------------------------------
_
Atsuro's eyes opened. Not suddenly But as if they had been open for a long time, And only now remembered it.
Across from him, Tsukishiro Walked. His steps were steady, Calm, Heading straight toward Lilithia. He did not look back. He did not need to.
A voice came From behind him. Quiet. Low. Without anger.
"…Is this like you always? To leave your enemies alive?"
Tsukishiro's foot paused in midair Before it could touch the ground.For the first time since the confrontation began, He turned.
He saw Atsuro Standing. Half of his upper body bare, And blood Covering his skin. He held his weapon. Not in a stance of readiness, Nor as a threat.
But As one who holds a decision, Not a tool.
In that moment, Things Behaved As if they knew.
The shadows Stopped trembling. The smoke Did not branch out, Did not curl, Did not seek the air. Even the blood Did not scatter. It fell In a single, Straight line.
Nothing Trembles. Nothing Breathes deeply. Nothing Hesitates.
Atsuro's weapon Reflects no light. Not because it is dark, But because the light No longer finds a reason To return.
Atsuro's eyes Do not reflect his opponent. No image. No shadow. Even the blood on the ground Does not reflect the sky.
Beneath his skin , The veins glowed, but Did not flow as they should. No continuous path. They begin… Then break. And continue Somewhere else.
As if the blood Had no single map. As if the body Was no longer a space of life. But a point of transit.
Atsuro lifted his head slightly. He looked at Tsukishiro. No anger in his eyes. No haste. Only Calm From one who had made his decision And finished the debate with himself.
He said:
"Don't worry… It won't take long."
It was not a threat. It was A statement of the outcome.
In that moment, Tsukishiro smiled. Not a smile of mockery, Nor of scorn. It was The smile of someone Who had regained something He thought lost forever.
It widened slowly, As if being tested, Then exploded all at once. He laughed. A short, Sharp laugh, Higher than he was used to.
"Haah… Haah haah…"
He lifted his head slightly, His eyes shining with something closer to gratitude.
"You… Have returned my passion for fighting."
He took a step forward.
"Atsuro… You truly are remarkable."
It was not a compliment. It was an acknowledgment.
"You are not like them. And you are not wrong, as I thought at first."
He slowly reached into his pocket, As if granting the moment its due respect. He pulled out a black coin. Not merely dark.
But It absorbed the light. Its edges were irregular, As if cut from another reality.
He held it between his fingers.
"And since you have come this far… I will show you my respect."
He looked at the coin, Then at Atsuro.
"I will use this."
Tsukishiro placed the coin in his mouth. And bit down.
In that very moment, His body Began to lose Alignment with itself.Not a deformity. But A desynchronization.
His right shoulder, Appeared a centimeter ahead Of the rest of his body.
His head Tilted slightly, But when you tried to see the angle of the tilt, It disappeared. As if the eye Could not grasp him.
He reached out his hand. His fingers Arrived Before the palm. Then the palm Followed, Lagging behind Part of the moment.
On his neck, Just above the top of his chest A line appeared. Very thin. Straight Beyond what seemed natural.
It was not a wound. The line Cut through the skin But without bleeding. And without any sign of healing. As if two parts of the body Had been Fused together Without a map.
The line moved A few millimeters. Lengthened slightly. Then shortened. But— It did not disappear. Nor did it close.
Tsukishiro smiled wider.
"Wonderful… Truly wonderful."
He lifted his gaze to Atsuro.
"Now let us see… Which ending did you read, And which ending I refuse to be a part of?"
As for Lilithia, Her eyes widened. Not just in fear. She whispered:
"…Atsuro?"
But her voice Collided with the void.
The moment Atsuro stepped forward, The light did not change. The sound did not change. What changed… Was the meaning of the action itself.
The world stopped proposing. Atsuro lifted his head slowly. Blood flowed over his face, But his body no longer asked if it could move.
He finally understood the truth:
Luck is not a blessing… But a debt upon existence.
He barely parted his lips, And whispered not to summon power. But to declare a decision:
"StoneArt - Luck Stone - Level 10: Fate Bankruptcy."
In that moment, All probabilities vanished. No risk. No chance of success. No alternative path. The result was chosen, And the world Was forced to accept it.
Atsuro extended his hand, It did not hesitate. He spun, The rotation was complete, Sharp, As if the body had forgotten the meaning of experience And retained only the execution.
He took a single step. His foot touched down once. Finally.
The world entered a strange silence. Blood bleeding, Flowed in a single line Then stopped. The smoke did not branch. The shadows did not tremble.
Everything Behaved As if it knew what would happen.
Only one result Was allowed to exist.
Tsukishiro smiled. Even though his body No longer trusted itself. He lifted his head slightly, And spoke with a calm laced with delight:
"Beautiful… Then let's ruin the map."
He whispered:
"Coincraft - Unmapped Domain."
Space shattered. No sound. No shock. But directions Vanished. The near became far. And the far A visual lie. Everyone in the arena Saw a different battlefield.
Tsukishiro's movement began. But what was seen first Was its aftereffect. The ground Compressed.
After half a moment, His foot touched down. As if the action Had existed beforehand, And the body Caught up with it late.
He extended his arm, The strike appeared, Then the arm followed. The air tore Before it was touched.
Tsukishiro moved within his domain, But his reaction Had become meaningless. Because reality No longer resisted.
Atsuro did not rush. He did not amplify his strength. He only advanced. The strike he chose Happened.
His weapon passed Not because the distance allowed it, But because the result Had been decided.
His opponent's luck Was drained. A second strike, The ground cracked, Then stopped cracking. A third strike, The Unmapped Domain Shuddered… And did not break.
Rather, It lost its meaning.
Tsukishiro was thrown backward. His knee collapsed. He tried to stand, His leg betrayed him. The line on his neck Shifted violently.
His body Could no longer fuse Within the same time.
—
But in contrast, Atsuro's body Began to pay the price. Blood covered his chest. His arm trembled. The probability Had become unbearable.
His knee struck the ground. Not from weakness. But exhaustion.
He lifted his head with difficulty. The world Remained steady. Because the result Had not yet concluded.
As for Tsukishiro, Kneeling, Unable to stand, He laughed. A short, Broken laugh.
"Haah… So this is bankruptcy."
Atsuro Did not respond.
—
Lilithia's eyes widened. She tried to rise, But her injuries left her no path. She whispered, In a voice barely audible:
"…Atsuro…"
And the world Held its breath Waiting For the final version of reality.
Atsuro stood… Or what remained of him. He looked at his body. The skin at his extremities Was no longer skin. It was turning into light ash, Disintegrating slowly, As if existence itself Were taking back its final signature.
The ashes Rose, then scattered, Not violently. But with a painful gentleness.
He smiled. A warm smile, Not like a battlefield, Nor like an ending.
He whispered, His voice steady against all expectation:
"At least… I was lucky To have known you, Villiam."
He fell silent. The wish within him lifted its head, Ready… Open. He knew exactly what he could ask for.
He turned his gaze back to his body, To the arm that was fading, To the chest no longer able To bear the probability.
He almost said:
"I wish this body would return…"
But, He hesitated.
He remembered the laughter. The faltering steps. The warm hand that reached out when needed.
His voice changed. He chose again.
"I wish Villiam would return…"
He said it clearly, Then added, in a quieter voice:
"And be freed From the Kaguchi blood That runs in his veins."
Silence fell. As if the world Were confirming the decision. Then he smiled once more.
"I'll leave the rest to you, My only friend… Villiam."
Behind him— Lilithia moved. She tried to rise. She stumbled. She rose again. She ran.
"Atsuro..!!!!!!!"
He heard her. He heard his name Called For the last time.
He turned halfway, His ashes scattering in the air, His eyes still calm. He spoke, With a smile and a warm voice like a distant memory:
"It was an honor to meet you, Lilithia…"
He paused for a moment, Then continued:
"Tell Villiam That I am proud To have been one of his disciples."
His smile widened slightly.
"And tell him my respect For the Black Dragon."
Then, His entire body disintegrated. No screams. No light. Only Complete dissolution… And transfer.
The stone Shivered. A part of his existence Was imprinted within it, Not a full soul, But a final trace.
The stone fell to the ground. A single sound. Heavy.
Lilithia arrived at the wrong moment. She collapsed to her knees, Reached out her hands, And clutched the stone to her chest. Her tears Fell upon it.
"…Atsuro…"
She repeated it. Once. Then once more. And the stone Did not respond.
_
Meanwhile, in the Drakhaen Kingdom,
Villiam's body lay stretched out, alone. The world around him was unnaturally still, As if the castles, The sky, The wind, All were holding their breath, waiting for something That had yet to be announced.
His breath stopped for half a second… Then returned, Heavier.
His eyes were closed, against his will. And at the same moment, A single tear Slid from the corner of his eye.
It was not a clear memory. It was not a sound to be heard. It was an absence That arrived before the news.
His lips trembled. He whispered unconsciously, As if the name had left him Before he could understand why:
"…Atsuro."
Silence did not answer. The tear remained, Cold upon his cheek, A proof of something He had not chosen to feel.
And in the world, No probability remained That bore the name Atsuro.
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-To be continued...-