"YAAARGHHH!" Skyler roared at the top of his lungs, unleashing the Fifth Dimension. Electricity crackled through the air, fused with plasma bursts that lit up the battlefield.
The boy who once hesitated to use this power was gone. That timid duckling? Burned away. Anyone who ever thought he was just some nerd—sorry, your bad. Today he was a full-blown superhero, and he was here to crush the villain in front of him.
The pressure that once knocked him out cold—those memories didn't exist anymore. What replaced them was rage. Rage born from the day he lost Zoe. That grief had become jet fuel, twisting him into a demon inside his own skin.
"This time, no one's getting in my way. I'm finishing this myself!"
Skyler lunged, each strike detonating through the scene, shredding reality into ribbons. His movements were inhuman, a blur that even Roxy, Zoe, Emilia, and Len could only watch from the sidelines—on edge, weapons ready.
"We can't underestimate Trinity," Roxy said—so flat you'd wonder if her heart was even beating. Her expression consumed every detail on the field, cutting sharper than steel.
"Sky's gotten so much stronger!" Zoe blurted it out, her voice bursting with a sparkle that needed no disguise.
"If you look closer… he's baiting Trinity into hitting him," Roxy murmured.
Zoe frowned. Truth slammed her: only a lunatic pokes the final boss. But Skyler was.
She's right… damn it.
Still, what scared her wasn't just whether he'd win or lose. The Skyler she knew wasn't standing there anymore. His eyes—possessed. A devil whispering poison straight into his ear.
Shiiing! Her katana flashed out from her personal dimension, ready. She wasn't about to let him spiral into madness.
"I'll end this myself—"
Before she could move, Skyler flicked his hand. Space warped around her. The ground swallowed her whole. Zoe was hurled back, crashing down in a cloud of dust—knocked out cold.
No one on earth could've predicted this sight. If you asked the whole world who would ever hurt Zoe, not one soul would've voted Skyler. Least of all him.
And yet—he had.
God… what the hell have I done?
The killer's chill drained. Clarity slammed back. Burned him. Branded him. His demon mode snapped off. He dropped to his knees, clutching her limp body as if he could fuse her into his chest and erase the damage.
"Zoe… I'm sorry… I—I—"
His hands trembled as he forced healing energy into her, desperation shaking every fingertip. The guilt rooted itself so deep he could barely breathe.
That's when Trinity struck—a starving wolf finding lost children in the woods.
"You fools…"
Cosmic City, A.D. 2623
In this era, 'Peace' had become the universal greeting among the world's rulers—about as casual as a 'Happy Monday' in a group chat. It was a time so tranquil, no one even bothered saying 'be careful' anymore.
Welcome to the metropolis—the apex of civilization. This wasn't just an attempt at a utopia. They actually pulled it off.
Forget the steel skyscrapers of the 23rd century. That city was dead and gone. Now everything had the fake calm of a Karuizawa travel brochure. And beneath that calm exterior? Tech so advanced it would make a secret agent scream.
The eyewear—or whatever passed for it—that everyone wore? It could backtrack your entire history faster than the CIA. A single click, and you could be sentenced for life. Every outfit? Nanofiber. It filtered out PM2.5, fleas from Tarutao, even bullets from a machine gun.
With equality as the baseline, crime had almost vanished. Here, even becoming a farmer was considered cooler than corporate life—because diamonds might be rare, but plants were the rarest thing in the universe. The only job mocked at reunions? Mama's boy.
Of course, none of this came easy. Humanity hadn't exactly chilled its way here. They'd fought, clawed, nearly burned the world to ash before clawing back.
The new seat of power wasn't a silver tower anymore. Instead, it was a sprawling white European-style mansion, capped with a glass dome that blazed in the sun from dawn to dusk. Its wings stretched wide—Belgravia townhouses in full display.
Arched windows framed with steel. French balconies lined up in perfect symmetry. White walls in clean, sun-bitten planes. Stairs spilled down into a stone courtyard trimmed with geometric shrubs.
Inside—cream granite floors polished to perfection, the kind Italian designers would weep over. A marble statue of the huntress Diana, long vanished from history, stood at the hall's cente—the universe's private joke carved in stone.
Past that—baroque lounges with red-and-gold velvet cushions. Chandeliers worth more than a supercar glittered overhead. The kind of place so extravagant even Emporium mall-goers would gape.
And on that calm day—well, for some people, 'calm' was the dirtiest word.
"Fweeeooow—Ffffwhoooosh!"
Arrows rained down on Zoe's back. She rolled out of the way, katana flashing to swat shafts from the air. The Romans kept firing—volley after volley, madness stitched into every arrow's flight.
She only grinned, nimble as a prankster ballerina, twisting left and right before whipping open her pocket dimension. Out popped her candy-pink scooter.
"Catch me if you can~!"
She hopped on, zooming across the stone path, and vanished through a portal without a glance back.
Then—silence.
"The Holy Lance of Longinus? Please. It's just a fancy metal stick. They're acting like it's priceless." Zoe huffed as she poured sand out of her shoes. That's what you got for jumping eras into Roman territory without prep—sand everywhere, her body a beach rave aftermath.
"…Ugh. Total mess. Shower time."
She half-skipped, half-bounced into her private zone, six-year-old energy sparking off her. The antique cases she passed belonged not to a collector but to a world-class museum. Each cabinet came with a secret lock only she could open. Spin the code, the wall slid aside, revealing the staircase to her sanctuary beneath the glass dome.
That was her Pink Glow kingdom—would make Barbie beg for mercy. The golden spear rested casually on her bedside table.
Humming to herself, she kicked off her dusty clothes and headed into the shower—her second-favorite activity after cutting down enemies.
Water streamed over her, nanotech scrubbing away the grit. But for Zoe, bathing wasn't just cleaning. It was thinking time. A rare pause to rewind her perfect princess childhood—pampered so thoroughly it made seven-star hotels look budget.
"Good morning, my lady. Did you sleep well?"
Anna's voice floated in—through the speaker? Or maybe the door? Hard to tell. This room had more layers of security tech than a rocket control center.
"Perfectly. Thanks." Zoe's reply came with the kind of bored smile only the rich could pull off.
"Are you ready for today's flower arrangement session?" Anna asked—Olympic-level thrill sport tone, all in.
"Can't wait~" Zoe dragged the last syllable with mocking enthusiasm.
"Good. Finish your lessons first, then you can enjoy yourself afterward."
Zoe rolled her eyes. Seriously. Can't I get something a little more exciting?
"Thank you, Anna," she said out loud—her delivery sarcastic enough that, if Anna had been an AI, a warning pop-up would've flashed: 'Critical Level Snark Detected.'
"My pleasure, miss." The blonde governess bowed—factory-reset android. When she looked up—Zoe was gone.
"My lady… you ran off again!" Anna dashed after her, smile frozen—a porcelain doll sprinting down the hall.
"Because flower arranging and tea ceremonies are boring!" Zoe whined as she bolted down the hallway.
"That is exactly what you must learn," Anna replied, cool and steady in her reply. "It is important for political authority, even if it is not fun."
"I don't wanna be a princess—I want to be an idol! I don't need this stuff!"
"The world is full of people chasing their own legends… but only a few know the right way to reach them."
"You talk like you've done it before."
Anna's smile answered for her: yes. Then she added, "Becoming an idol is harder than pouring tea."
Zoe pouted, silent for once.
"People pursue their dreams all the time. But the ones who reach them happily? They're rare. Which story do you want to be part of?"
"…Are you just saying confusing stuff to mess with me?"
"No, miss." Anna smiled warmly. "Being a princess carries duties too—and the power to change the world. That's why you must complete your training." She ran and lectured at the same time—lungs running on hybrid power.
"But I hate studying. It's so boring."
"Remember this, my lady: no one in this world gets everything they want. Those who dare to dream must also accept reality's conditions. Greatness isn't about having it all—it's about knowing which path to take, and never forgetting the value of what you already have."
Zoe stopped, panting. Her spirit refused to yield, but her body had given in. At last, she surrendered.
"…Fine. I'll study. But—you promised. You'll let me be an idol, right?" The words hit the air, stripped of defiance—just exhaustion, bargaining for a way out.
"Yes, my lady." Anna's sweet smile and nod sealed the deal.
And Zoe—fell into her governess's trap yet again. Only this blonde woman could run fast enough to catch her and lure her back with promises.
But that night—
She never escaped the nightmares.
Zoe stood alone in darkness. The empty void was freezing, every atom soaked in a fear without source. Her legs dragged as if weighed down with stone. No matter how hard she tried to scream—no sound came out.
Then someone raised a gun.
BANG!
Pain ripped through her chest. Blood soaked her gown, spilling to the floor. She collapsed, her soul peeling away from her body—until she jolted awake, drenched in sweat, clutching her chest.
No wound. But the pain had been real. Too real to dismiss.
"It was just… a nightmare," she whispered.
Yet the fear clung to her—claw marks on a notebook. No matter how many years passed, it would never fade.
Zoe told Anna about the nightmare often—in a world where crime had become a bedtime story and guns were museum pieces.
"This world is safe, my lady. No one carries guns anymore," Anna always reassured her.
"And the dress you're wearing? Bulletproof. The only thing that could pierce it would be a weapon from beyond Saturn," she added with a flourish.
Zoe nodded… though deep down, she never fully believed it.
She tried to tell herself it was just a dream. But it didn't come once or twice—it came too often. Too vivid. Too real. Something inside whispered: if she didn't find the answer, those nightmares would haunt her until the day she died.
That was why Zoe slipped through portals whenever she could. Guards thicker than the World Bank? She got past them. Caught? Worst punishment was house arrest for two weeks. (Correction: two days. Then she'd vanish again—clockwork.)
In recent years, nobody could hold her down. Her survival skills grew faster than inflation.
Tonight was no exception. She slipped through the palace's hidden passages—hide-and-seek world champion, no medal required. Every step lighter than a mouse in a warehouse, heartbeat so loud she swore the soldier droids could hear it better than her feet.
Finally—she reached the underground chamber.
The portal stood before her, framed in ivory, gilded with gold filigree that shimmered faintly, as though an archway to Cartier's diamond gala.
She pressed her palm to the frame, issuing a command in her mind—the same way she summoned her personal AI:
Take me somewhere good.
This time, Zoe didn't set a destination. No timeline. No coordinates. It was hopping in a cab at a roundabout and saying, 'Just drive.'
Her small frame dropped into a superhero landing—the kind of pose that never went out of style in her head.
"Alright then," she told herself, lips quirking into that signature Zoe smirk.
Brilliance bloomed around her. For the first time, she let go—yielding wholly to the chaos and wonder of the universe.