I spent the entire night listening to those wrinkly sages explain what happened. And let me tell you—between the headache, the half-mad lore, and my lingering exhaustion, I was ready to chuck myself back into limbo.
"What you need to understand," the oldest of them began, "was most definitely… Selene."
Apparently, in this world she's revered as the Goddess of Stars, Prophecies, and Revelations. She's said to appear whenever a great calamity is about to hit.
"Just as she once descended and foretold the end of our empire," the old man croaked, "she declared: 'The ego of the sun will devour us, and great darkness shall prevail across the land.'"
Anyway, the point was: she dropped this riddle-bomb and left them scrambling. The sages worked themselves half to death trying to decipher it, and the grand conclusion was: they had no idea what it meant.
"Prophecy of the Goddess is one hundred percent accurate," another added. "Every historical record of her appearance has been correct."
Which, apparently, was reason enough to panic.
At that time, the Emperor—Matrysox III—summoned the sages and ordered them to create a project called Reality Perceiver.
"Supposedly," one of them explained, "it was a device that could manifest imagination into reality."
I narrowed my eyes. "That doesn't sound horrifying at all."
Of course, it was horrifying. When the Muata tribe ran their little experiments, their nightmares literally manifested into monsters. Instead of shutting it down like sensible people, the sages decided this was "fascinating" and kept going.
And then came Chancellor Grigor Dmitri.
He was some diplomat who somehow shot up the ladder from a minor minister to Chancellor overnight. Everyone thought he was charming, full of vision, blah blah blah. But the sages said he was obsessed with the Reality Perceiver, pushing it forward as a way to transcend human limits and "rule the world."
Naturally, the sages were skeptical. But the people loved him. And with the prophecy looming over everyone, nobody wanted to admit they didn't understand it.
By the time the project reached its climax, they stumbled across mentions of an "Imaginary Dimension" in some dusty prehistoric books locked in the Great Library's deepest vaults.
And that's where things went off the rails.
The Imaginary Dimension, apparently, inflicts insanity and unstable power on anyone exposed to it. Oh, and it also happens to house the Evil Gods that the previous Ruler sealed away over a thousand years ago.
So yeah. Perfect place to build a world-altering machine.
Before the sages could even report their findings to the Emperor, Grigor barged in and attacked them. Tentacle-like ropes shot out of him—some grotesque parasitic manifestation.
He proved to be strong. Almost unbeatable. But with all the sages combined, they managed to subdue him. Barely.
And then, before they could react, he hurled a catalyst into the Reality Perceiver.
The device went berserk instantly. A tear opened—a black, writhing wound in space—and within less than ten minutes, the capital was swallowed whole.
I sat there, staring at them. "Let me get this straight. A shady Chancellor turns into hentai monster, throws something into your magic printer, and nukes the capital in ten minutes?"
"…That is… one way to describe it," one admitted.
By the time the tear stabilized, all that remained were corpses. No flesh. Just bones.
"Do not pity us, blessed one," the eldest said. "Our struggle is already over. We buried them all ourselves, as penance for the insanity we unleashed."
I felt my throat tighten—not that I'd admit it.
But then came the twist.
"Grigor's body was different," Asmodeus said quietly. "His bones had thorns. When we got close, they tried to latch onto us like parasites. But they burned away under Josephine's residual holy magic."
He held something up in his hand. A coin.
I blinked. "That—no way."
"This insignia, The Sigil of Bephelgor."
My heart skipped. "That doesn't add up. Wasn't Bephelgor supposed to be a figure that appeared during the recent demon wars?"
[System Note: Inconsistency detected.]
"Who was the Demon King in your time?" I asked sharply.
Asmodeus stroked his beard. "I believe their name was—"
I cut him off, raising a hand. "Enough. Take me to the Great Library."