"Finally… you're awake," Locki said, relief obvious in his voice.
"You were out cold for a week," Bruce added, his tone calm but edged with concern.
Carter's eyes softened. "It's good to see you okay."
Ron struggled to sit up, his mind still reeling from the Canvas. "What… happened while I was unconscious?"
Carter quickly recounted the events, filling in the gaps of time Ron had missed.
"Damn, Carter… where the hell did you learn to channel Ki into Dark Faith?" Ron asked, still half in disbelief.
DA cleared his throat.
"Ohh, I thought he was lying," Ron muttered.
"Damn you, ancient fool," DA snapped.
After half an hour, everyone left except DA. The room was quiet now, save for the soft beeping of the monitors. Ron turned to him, his expression serious.
"I need to tell you about the Future Lia timeline… everything I saw," he said.
DA's gaze sharpened. "Who was that white-haired kid?"
"In that timeline," DA replied, "the Beyonder descended into his avatar… and killed everyone. Fascinating, isn't it?"
"Why has this timeline changed?" Ron pressed.
DA's eyes darkened, unreadable. "Now, it makes perfect sense."
"What makes sense?" Ron asked, leaning forward.
"Didn't you notice something… off?" DA asked, voice low. "Your missing memories. Your awakening in Hero Town. The moment the dimension where Dream was trapped recognized you. When you discovered you were the Wielder of the Fourth Wall. Doesn't it all feel… eerily familiar?"
Ron paused, the memories flickering back—small déjà vu moments, flashes of familiarity he had long ignored.
"You're right. There were countless moments when something felt… not right," he admitted.
DA's expression hardened. "It's Black Heart."
"Black Heart? I haven't met him… but he seems… okay," Ron said casually, only half-aware of the danger.
DA stared at him. Without warning, he headbutted Ron. "Aaaaagh! Why do you always headbutt me?!" Ron yelled, rubbing his forehead.
"You ancient fool," DA hissed. "You possess the Fourth Wall—abilities that rival the second strongest. Powers censored by it. You have a supporter of unimaginable strength. Black Heart wants your power… to rule not just this layer, but the third layer as well."
"Damn… so he's evil," Ron muttered.
"Shall we take a trip to the past?" DA asked, his voice calm but deadly.
"Wait… why are you helping me?" Ron pressed, suspicion sharp in his tone.
DA lowered his gaze. Ron looked into his eyes and saw a darkness so vast, it seemed to swallow everything—pain, hatred, grief, betrayal, and endless suffering. He shivered. What kind of story has lived inside him?
"You remind me of my teacher," DA said, a faint, sad smile on his lips. "I don't remember his name… or his face. But with you… I feel as if I'm with him again."
"Where is he now?" Ron asked quietly.
DA trembled for the first time that Ron had ever seen. His hands shook, his whole body quivering. "One day… I woke up. And he was gone." Guilt radiated from his eyes.
Ron nodded slowly. "Alright… let's go to the past. But first… we take care of Dr. Thomas and Wulkranoth. And I have someone to meet." He rose, determination settling over him like armor.
Ron soared through the sky, the bag clutched tightly in his hands, clouds whipping past him like shards of glass. Below, the seas churned with massive ships, their decks teeming with soldiers and cultists armed to the teeth. Every cannon, every rifle, every drone locked onto him.
"Really?" Ron muttered, a smirk tugging at his lips. "Is that all you've got?"
A hail of bullets and energy blasts screamed toward him. He twisted midair, teleporting meters at a time, barely avoiding shrapnel and flames. One drone shot directly at his chest—he phased through it, feeling the explosion ripple against him like a distant tremor.
Ships opened fire in unison, cannons blazing, energy beams cutting through the clouds. Explosions erupted around him, spraying water and debris into the sky. The smell of burning metal and ozone filled the air.
"Come on, you guys really want me that badly?" Ron laughed, flipping upside down to dodge a volley of spears fired from a flying ship.
A sudden shadow crossed above him—a massive airship bristling with weapons, its hull engraved with sinister symbols. Cult banners flapped in the stormy wind. More drones swarmed, weaving a deadly web of lasers and missiles.
Ron's phone beeped—another drone strike. He held it up, and it detonated midair, raining sparks across his path. "Nice try," he muttered, teleporting to the next cloud.
From the bridge of one ship, commanders shouted, frustrated. "He's… everywhere!"
Across the universe, in a dark chamber lit only by the glow of multiple screens, Black Heart leaned forward. His fingers drummed against the desk, eyes narrowed.
"DA… what are you up to?" he hissed. "Don't interfere with my plans."
He rose, shadows stretching along the walls like serpents. The screens flickered, showing Ron's every move. His smirk deepened. "Soon… everything will belong to me."
Back in the sky, Ron zipped past ships, teleporting from one cloud to another. His bag glowed faintly as if responding to his will. Cult ships tried to box him in, but every time they closed the gap, he vanished, reappearing dozens of meters away.
A spear sliced through the air inches from his face. He caught it mid-teleport, twisting it, and hurling it back to shatter a drone. Sparks flew, metal screamed, and one ship's hull cracked under the assault.
"Damn, he's fast!" one commander yelled, clutching a railing as Ron teleported past them again.
Finally, Ron grinned. He took a deep breath, focusing all his energy. With a surge, he teleported straight above the ocean, then dropped in a freefall, twisting the air to his advantage. Ships fired blindly into the clouds, but Ron vanished before their eyes, landing just outside Hero Town's limits.
Below him, the cultists and ships paused, stunned. No one had ever escaped like this. Ron landed smoothly, placing the bag on the ground. Around him, Hero Town awaited—quiet, serene, but brimming with hidden dangers.
Back in the darkness of the universe, Black Heart's fist slammed into the desk, his voice low and dangerous. "He's getting too strong… DA, don't you dare interfere with my plans!"
His eyes glowed as he disappeared into the shadows, already plotting his next move.
Ron materialized inside a house. A massive chainsaw swung toward him; he twisted just in time to dodge. Exhaling, he barely had time to react before a knife slashed across his cheek.
Swords, axes, spears, and knives rained down. Teleporting up the stairs, he muttered, "Damn it… stop attacking me!"
One brother stepped forward. "Oh… it's Ron. You're back."
Ron stared, then headbutted him, just as DA had done before. "This is for the cut on my cheek," he said coldly.
The second brother emerged. After exchanging greetings, they resumed where they left off. Ron handed them the box, grabbed a large bag, waved his hands, and soared into the sky, flying toward Hero Town.
Ron soared through the sky, the bag clutched tightly in his hands, clouds whipping past him like shards of glass. Below, the seas churned with massive ships, their decks teeming with soldiers and cultists armed to the teeth. Every cannon, every rifle, every drone locked onto him.
"Really?" Ron muttered, a smirk tugging at his lips. "Is that all you've got?"
A hail of bullets and energy blasts screamed toward him. He twisted midair, teleporting meters at a time, barely avoiding shrapnel and flames. One drone shot directly at his chest—he phased through it, feeling the explosion ripple against him like a distant tremor.
Ships opened fire in unison, cannons blazing, energy beams cutting through the clouds. Explosions erupted around him, spraying water and debris into the sky. The smell of burning metal and ozone filled the air.
"Come on, you guys really want me that badly?" Ron laughed, flipping upside down to dodge a volley of spears fired from a flying ship.
A sudden shadow crossed above him—a massive airship bristling with weapons, its hull engraved with sinister symbols. Cult banners flapped in the stormy wind. More drones swarmed, weaving a deadly web of lasers and missiles.
Ron's phone beeped—another drone strike. He held it up, and it detonated midair, raining sparks across his path. "Nice try," he muttered, teleporting to the next cloud.
From the bridge of one ship, commanders shouted, frustrated. "He's… everywhere!"
Across the universe, in a dark chamber lit only by the glow of multiple screens, Black Heart leaned forward. His fingers drummed against the desk, eyes narrowed.
"DA… what are you up to?" he hissed. "Don't interfere with my plans."
He rose, shadows stretching along the walls like serpents. The screens flickered, showing Ron's every move. His smirk deepened. "Soon… everything will belong to me."
Back in the sky, Ron zipped past ships, teleporting from one cloud to another. His bag glowed faintly as if responding to his will. Cult ships tried to box him in, but every time they closed the gap, he vanished, reappearing dozens of meters away.
A spear sliced through the air inches from his face. He caught it mid-teleport, twisting it, and hurling it back to shatter a drone. Sparks flew, metal screamed, and one ship's hull cracked under the assault.
"Damn, he's fast!" one commander yelled, clutching a railing as Ron teleported past them again.
Finally, Ron grinned. He took a deep breath, focusing all his energy. With a surge, he teleported straight above the ocean, then dropped in a freefall, twisting the air to his advantage. Ships fired blindly into the clouds, but Ron vanished before their eyes, landing just outside Hero Town's limits.
Below him, the cultists and ships paused, stunned. No one had ever escaped like this. Ron landed smoothly, placing the bag on the ground. Around him, Hero Town awaited—quiet, serene, but brimming with hidden dangers.
Back in the darkness of the universe, Black Heart's fist slammed into the desk, his voice low and dangerous. "He's getting too strong… DA, don't you dare interfere with my plans!"
His eyes glowed as he disappeared into the shadows, already plotting his next move.
Hero Town Graveyard
Carter stood at Lia's grave. After a long moment, an arrow shot toward him—but he caught it midair. A note was attached:
"Carter, meet me at my hideout. Come in secret. Make sure no one knows." – Bruce
Carter returned home, filed a vacation request for a few days, received approval that night, and left under the cover of secrecy.