"Are you sure this is your final wish?"
For the first time since the beginning, the god's voice carried a faint warning. The sound wasn't produced by lips or throat—his face remained eerily still. Instead, the very air itself trembled, as though space bent under the weight of his words.
The golden-haired youth's confident expression faltered for the briefest instant. The change was so slight it could have been imagined. And yet, for that fleeting moment, the shadowy shape that was the god seemed to curl its face into a mocking smile. But the next words spoken by the youth instantly wiped away even that trace of amusement.
The god's expression darkened, subtle but undeniable.
The young man inhaled deeply, his ocean-blue eyes firm with unshakable resolve. His voice carried no hesitation when he declared:
"I am sure. This is going to be my third wish."
He knew exactly what he was doing. He was intimately familiar with the world of Beyond Good and Evil, and even more so with its protagonist, Arthur Dreamwalker—a cold, indifferent figure driven solely by vengeance. To endure in that world, let alone rise to the top, required more than strength. Only these three wishes could carve a path to survival.
The god fell silent.
Then, with a faint crackle, another orb of light appeared, drifting gracefully through the void. It joined the two from before, circling the young man like stars around a sun, each glowing with a radiance both divine and untouchable.
The golden-haired youth's eyes gleamed as he gazed at them. He glanced once at the god—an existence whose name he still didn't know—and despite the indifference radiating from the figure, a flicker of gratitude welled up inside him.
Never in his wildest dreams had he imagined this. To not only step into his favorite novel but also be granted such gifts…
Life couldn't possibly be better than this.
His gaze drifted unconsciously toward Zarek, standing silently at the center of the space. A strange satisfaction bloomed in his chest. He had gained everything—three miraculous wishes—while the other soul had been utterly ignored.
And he didn't feel the slightest guilt.
That was life. Some were destined to feast while others fought for scraps.
From the beginning to the end, the god hadn't spared Zarek a glance. It was as if he didn't exist.
Zarek, however, hadn't missed a single word. He had listened intently, his throat tightening as he swallowed hard. His eyes lingered on the three floating orbs of light.
If I could get my hands on them…
A sharp glint flickered in his eyes.
The world of Beyond Good and Evil was merciless—a place where entire cities could vanish in a single night. If he wanted to live, he needed power.
But before he could dwell further, the space itself trembled. A low vibration ran through him, as if reality's skin had been torn.
Not far away, the air split open. A massive rift unfolded, spinning slowly like a vortex. Its very presence clawed at his instincts.
Zarek's breath hitched.
He knew. That portal would lead them to the world itself.
While he stared in awe, the golden-haired youth and the god exchanged a few words too quiet for him to catch. Then, without hesitation, the youth stepped toward the portal.
Sizzle.
With a single stride, he vanished.
Urgency jolted Zarek's body.
If he didn't act now, he would be left behind—trapped in this strange void forever.
Without hesitation, he lunged. His body erupted in light and was instantly swallowed by the portal.
Darkness consumed the space behind him. Only a single voice lingered, resonant and ancient, older than the foundations of time itself.
"Just what are you planning… sending these two good-for-nothings to that world?"
Is this… inside the portal?
Zarek's senses reeled. His surroundings had changed in an instant. One moment, he had been in a boundless void, and the next, he was trapped inside a narrow, tube-like corridor. The walls pulsed and glistened, coated in slick mucus, as though he were inside the belly of some colossal beast.
He pressed forward, his essence pulled along the strange current. Ahead, faint but unmistakable, he sensed another aura—stronger, brighter.
The golden-haired youth. Surrounded by three radiant orbs.
I have to catch up.
His speed surged as he pushed himself harder, chasing the faint glow ahead.
Time stretched. With every passing moment, frustration etched itself deeper onto his face.
Faster. Faster! I can't let him get away.
His aura flickered violently. Desperation clawed at his chest. He refused to be left behind, refused to fade into irrelevance.
The gods had dismissed him as a nobody—an extra in a grand tale. But the youth ahead… he was meant to be the chosen one.
Zarek shook his head sharply. Focus. Don't lose sight of him.
But then—
His breath caught.
The aura ahead… vanished.
Before he could comprehend what had happened, the world around him warped violently. The tunnel collapsed in on itself, twisting, tearing apart into shapeless void. Then came the darkness, swallowing him whole.
When Zarek opened his eyes again, air brushed against his skin.
He had a body.
For a moment, shock rooted him. He lifted his hands into view—small, slender, snow-white. The hands of a child.
He glanced down at himself. A simple white long coat draped over his frame, paired with black training pants and sturdy boots. A small pack hung from his back, resting lightly against him.
Breathing unevenly, Zarek looked up.
He stood in a vast forest. Trees towered around him, their trunks massive, their canopies stretching endlessly above, blotting out much of the sky.
Before he could gather his thoughts, the silence was broken by shouts.
"Don't let this evildoer escape!"
"This criminal deserves to die!"
"It was a good thing the Silver Blade family cast him out!"
"Now we can avenge all the innocents slaughtered by his hands!"
Zarek spun just as dozens of figures emerged from behind the trees. Armed with crude swords, spears, and axes, their eyes burned with hatred and bloodlust. Their voices were thick with venom as they spat curses.
"There he is—that worthless trash!"
"No, worse than trash! Kill him!"
Zarek froze, thunderstruck. His eyes widened as the mob surged toward him, their weapons raised. Questions tumbled chaotically through his mind.
Why? Why are they coming after me?
But instinct screamed louder than reason.
Before he could think, his legs moved on their own.
He ran.
"Damn it, don't let him escape!"
The mob thundered after him, their rage crashing through the forest like a tidal wave.
And Zarek's desperate flight began.