Sylaphine's Perspective:
I floated through the hollow dark, drifting between fractured stars. My body felt weightless — unreal — until a familiar radiance cut through the void.
Myriacron appeared before me, his silhouette bending constellations around it.
"Sylaphine. Awaken."
My vision steadied. His light washed through me, stitching together the wounds carved into my soul.
"My lord… the labyrinth…" I whispered, still trembling.
His gaze — calm, eternal — settled on me.
"What you witnessed was an illusion. I descended before that being could breach the labyrinth. Your kin remain untouched."
Relief escaped my chest.
"Then—where is he now? Did you erase him from existence?"
Myriacron's expression did not change.
"Erasure lies beyond my grasp."
"What? But you're— you control space itself, time itself— a human should be—"
He cut across my words like a blade of fate.
"I cannot erase The Mighty God Killer. No will in creation can."
"…God Killer?" The title felt absurd, almost laughable.
"When I battled him before, he was fragile… weak. Then suddenly he was— something else entirely."
Myriacron's light dimmed in thought.
"The one you fought then was merely Kaiser's consciousness. The one you faced later was not Kaiser — only a being that seized his soul to pursue its vengeance."
My heart dropped.
"How could that even happen?"
"The spell he used divided his mind into a second body. He meant only to distract you long enough for his companions to flee. Yet…"
He paused.
"…Yet?" I pressed.
"When you destroyed the double, its consciousness returned to him. And when you ripped his soul back to torment him… you revived not the whole — but a fragment. An incomplete soul stripped of restraint."
"The part that returned was his hatred."
I felt cold.
"But still… Even then, I should've been strong enough to fight! He used magic that defied my laws — no human should be able to do that."
Myriacron's presence surged, the stars trembling as he spoke:
"Because within Kaiser Everhart's soul sleeps the oldest malice ever conceived — the Devil's soul. A being tortured beyond millennia, waiting for its second dawn of vengeance."
"Vengeance against who?" I whispered, fear threading into my words.
"Against all who betrayed it. All who harmed it. All who reduced it to despair."
"Against you Gods."
"That devil knows no mercy. It is the part of Kaiser he buried — the cruelty he fought to chain."
I swallowed.
Myriacron's voice grew quieter… but somehow heavier.
"I do not know how the Devil earned another chance to rise. But I know this much…"
His eyes — if they could be called eyes — bore into me.
"Its awakening was the cost of your actions."
"Me?" I breathed, horrified.
His answer hovered like judgment itself.
The void shifted again, constellations bending like petals in the wake of Myriacron's voice.
"I cannot know the full breadth of Kaiser Everhart's life," Myriacron began, his words resonating like the hum of a dying star, "but I know the meaning that once held him together."
His glow dimmed, almost sorrowfully.
"He found little worth living for. Yet he endured — carrying a darkness vast enough to swallow this verse — because two souls gave him belonging."
My breath froze.
"One he lost as a child."
"And you, along with the other Avatars, stripped away the second."
His tone deepened, shedding warmth.
"When you rob a man — already convinced life is meaningless — of the final things anchoring him… the devil inside him has nothing left to fear, nothing left to protect, nothing left to lose. Such a being is not bound by heaven or abyss, prophecy or fate. Its authority rises from the truth that nothing remains that can be taken."
I lowered my head, wings dimming.
"…My lord," I murmured, voice steady yet trembling, "I did what I could. Even if my choices were utilitarian… they were for the future of our kin. We lack the boundless power of the Dragonics, the Elves, the Demons. Our strength is illusive, and a few slivers of elemental art. The Asura Empire had sorcerers beyond our comprehension."
I inhaled.
"Eliminating them early was the only path. And I chose it… for the survival of my people."
"For the war of races."
Myriacron's presence softened.
"Your reasoning is not without wisdom. Survival shapes choices that few hearts can endure. When a fragile race stands before mightier rivals, prudence becomes cruelty, and cruelty becomes the price of existence. I understand this… as does the world you sought to shield."
My chest tightened.
"Yes… I know my actions were cruel. I know I wounded lives that were not mine to judge. But betrayal taught me what mercy cannot. I learned to protect my kind through pain. Through centuries of it."
Myriacron's gaze warmed—not with affection, but with understanding older than breath.
"I know, my child. You were betrayed by the only human you had ever entrusted with your life. That scar shaped your resolve, your fear, your hunger to save your people."
His light flickered — grief or disappointment, I could not tell.
"Yet even so, my child… actions demand their consequence. And you will face that cost."
My wings shuddered.
"My lord… What's the cost?"
"The devil bears hatred for gods like me — and for the Avatars — for what was done long before today. And given the chance, it will move against you all. It will judge your crimes with no restraint."
My grip tightened.
"Crimes? Why should I fear judgment? You granted me immortality. Your blessings bound me to your will. I acknowledge what I've done — sins and virtues alike — but why would the life of one mortal girl matter so greatly? The human he cherished… is she worth punishment?"
Myriacron's expression shifted into something impossible to name.
"I do not govern sin or virtue in this universe."
His voice darkened.
"The devil does not arrive with horns or fire. He comes as everything you ever hoped would save you — and everything that will eventually destroy you."
"The deeper one dances with sin, the longer they remain trapped in a hell sculpted by their own choices."
My throat tightened.
"Those who take what keeps a man alive even once," Myriacron continued, "will take it a thousand times more. You need not swallow the sea to know it is salty."
"Kaiser Everhart has lived by that truth. That is why he hunts the cult. And why he hunts you — and the Avatars — for the massacre you unleashed."
His voice turned colder than the void around us.
"In losing her, he lost the last tether to his humanity. The darkness he kept chained now swallows him whole."
"And with your actions… you weakened the chains that held the Devil dormant."
My heart dropped like a dying star.
"My lord… I—"
"Yes," Myriacron said gently, "it was your doing."
"My lord, please—please understand me." My voice cracked.
"I did it for us. For me, for my people. It was survival. It had to be done."
"I chose the only path left!" I insisted, breath shaking. "Anyone would've done the same! Even humans would've—so why am I the one being condemned? And after six thousand years you come now? Now you call my actions a crime?
"Where were you when I needed you? I was chosen as your avatar… but you vanished. And the moment he appeared, you returned. What's so special about him? Why do you fear him? Why won't you help me fight him!?" My voice dropped into a desperate whisper.
"Sinners judge sinners for sinning differently." Myriacron's words cut like a blade.
My heart froze.
Then its voice deepened—quiet, cold, absolute.
"I left you avatars as lights for your races. Symbols of kindness, mercy, and unity. Yet each of you twisted that gift. You guarded only your own kind. You ignored the suffering of others. For millennia you let your hearts rot."
The words crushed my breath.
I staggered, vision shaking.
"And now your own sin has come to collect its debt, Sylaphine."
My chest tightened painfully.
"The moment you helped the cult for your selfish reasons— the moment you lost compassion— you invited that one guest to your own funeral."
My throat burned. Tears built up uncontrollably.
"You betrayed the faith placed in you."
"If betrayal were forgivable, the devil would sit beside the almighty."
A tear slid down my cheek involuntarily.
"You disappoint me, Sylaphine."
My legs buckled. I dropped to my knees.
"You are not the spirit I entrusted the fairies to. Six thousand years ago you were gentle, wise, compassionate, kind…" Its tone sharpened.
"…and now you behave like the demons you despise."
A quiet sob escaped me.
"…You were betrayed, yes. But you chose to cling to that pain until it twisted you."
My hands trembled. My vision blurred. I had never felt so small, so exposed— so hated by the one I worshipped.
"You're right..."
My voice cracked before I could stop it. "You're right about all of it."
I wiped my eyes, but more tears kept spilling.
"I wasn't supposed to become this. I know that. I know what I've done. And I know what it cost."
"But I wasn't trying to be cruel… I was trying to survive. I was trying to keep them alive. My people. The last thing I had left." My breath shook.
I pressed a hand to my chest, voice trembling.
"I didn't ask to be abandoned for six thousand years. I didn't ask to lead alone. But I did it as my duty, because I thought you trusted me."
Myriacron didn't answer.
So I kept talking—quiet, broken, desperate.
"I failed. I know I failed… but please don't turn away from me now."
My knees weakened as I bowed her head.
"If everything you said is true… then help me fix it."
"Help me stop him."
Still no answer.
Her voice shrank to a whisper.
"I'm scared, Myriacron."
"I've never admitted that to anyone."
"The moment I fell into the ninth depth… my body wasn't mine anymore. It felt like I was watching myself from behind cold glass. And then—" she swallows, the sound dry, brittle — "I saw what would become of my kind. Tortured. Murdered. And then resurrected only to suffer again… all because of what I had done."
My eyes darkened, not with power, but with something far more human and humiliating.
"And when he brought out that… that torture tool on his hand…"
"And explained how I would suffear… and how it would eat me from inside…"
My body trembles as if saying its name would summon it back.
"My entire body collapsed from the inside. Every bone, every nerve, every memory bent under it. It felt like the kind of pain that would never end."
A tear hit the ground.
"Please… even if you can't forgive me… don't let me face that monster alone."
Myriacron's voice rumbled through the void, calm but absolute.
"It is not the forgiveness you seek, child… but change. War approaches — a war colder and crueler than even your fears dare imagine. After the peace has been broken, it'll arise."
"Return to who you once were. Keep your labyrinth standing. Let it be your anchor, not your grave."
I swallowed hard, wiping my face though the tears refused to stop.
"I know… I know." My voice wavered.
"I'll try. I'll rebuild myself. I swear it. But please—help me fight that monster. End him for us. I'll restore the compassion I abandoned. I'll be the avatar you meant me to be."
Myriacron only shook its head, a slow, sorrowful motion that made my stomach drop.
"I have told you already. I cannot fight beside you against The Mighty God‑Killer… nor erase him."
My breath caught.
"Then how did he vanish? You must have done something… to erase him."
"No." Myriacron's tone hardened.
"I reversed your resurrection spell. His form was just a body — false, unstable. Created through weak elemental magic by that human. I slipped past his darkness only because it was not truly him he was using."
"Each second he lived, his sealed power surged back to him. The Dark Magic that he wielded. Had he possessed a real body…"
A pause. A terrifying one.
"…my authority would have meant nothing."
My skin crawled, a cold shiver knifing down my spine.
Even Myriacron… helpless before that devil.
"But fear not. The devil cannot return unless the Trials of the Dark Tide are fully broken. Only one of three has fallen. You can still change the course, Sylaphine."
"Save your world. Save your people."
"Become the heart you lost."
My lips trembled.
Dark magic… something that should not exist. Only he can wield it. No… only the devil can.
The realization nauseated me.
My greatest sin wasn't betrayal of my past self.
It was letting the past devour me until I became something unrecognizable.
I knelt, steadier this time.
"By my faith… I will not allow the Dark Tide to return."
"I will prepare. I will fight it."
Myriacron nodded — that small gesture feeling like a mountain shifting.
"The world is safe… for now." Its tone grew cryptic.
"For the Void's Heir and the Devil have found a hand that refuses to let them fall — a bond forged before your birth, before the avatars, between the cursed and the unwanted."
Curiosity sparked in me, but duty pressed harder.
Myriacron's form flickered, reality bending around it.
"I must depart. My presence disrupts the flow of time."
I raised a hand weakly.
"My lord… before you go. You must know — three—"
It cut me off instantly.
"The Cursed Queen, the Heavenly Sorcerer, and the Heir all hunt for my soul.
I am aware. But the time is not yet ripe."
A solemn pause.
"Their journey will continue. They will chase the impossible miracle. Against the other beasts that rule the Land and Sea. And when the moment arrives… I shall return to face them — and to the avatars — once more."
Then, gently, almost like a farewell blessing:
"Nothing worth having is gained without loss. Even heaven demands death.
So rise, Sylaphine… and show the world what a true avatar is."
I drew a deep breath.
"I will. I finally understand… darkness does not always equate to evil, just as light does not always bring good.
"I'll face my flaws. I'll become the avatar you wished to see — and the one I wish to be."
For the first time, Myriacron's expression softened.
A faint smile.
And then — space rippled, the world folded in on itself—
—and my eyes opened.