Some buildings were on fire. For others, there was nothing left. The only thing ruling this city was chaos and destruction.
A being with completely white skin, eyes filled with galaxies and stars, wearing a fine white linen garment, ran toward something. Unfortunately, it was instantly crushed by a giant creature unlike anything she had ever known. A beast with a lion-like body, the size of a mountain, with skin darker than space, a mane of spikes, and eyes filled with a colossal void. No one knew where it had come from.
A little girl was there. Sitting to the left, near a ruined building. To be precise, she was not a living little girl. Her head had just been torn off by a stone that had fallen from the building. Her body had gently slumped against the wall. She was holding her mother's hand—or so she thought. And she wasn't wrong, because she was indeed holding only her hand. Her mother had been burned alive while coming down the stairs by an attack that had leveled three-quarters of the buildings. The little girl had kept running, thinking her mother was still behind her.
The one who had launched the attack was a man. Or rather, something that looked like a man. What set him apart so much was that he didn't resemble one at all. He only had the shape. He was covered in flames—flames that burned without restraint. Everything they touched turned to ash.
A being not from this world was fighting another made of stone. However, it wasn't the only one. Hundreds—no, maybe thousands—or even millions, were fighting without mercy, destroying everything in their path. Man, woman, child, house, dog, cat, any pet, every animal, every living being, every human structure, every merit, every pride, every joy, every future, everything…
Nothing could withstand this world.
Amid all of this… amid the blood and the tears of children and adults… amid the chaos and destruction… amid what seemed to be the end of the world, stood a man. A man—or a monster. An angel or a fallen one with six black wings. Wings as dark as the deepest abyss. A robe flowing down to the ground, though he hovered above it.
His face could not be seen, but from his eyes emanated a red, blood-colored smoke, and blackness just as deep as his robe.
He watched her in this apocalypse. His emotionless gaze was chilling. He seemed to grow stronger as the war went on. He seemed to control everything that was happening—and he was watching her.
He was watching her soul, and she could only tremble.
But then, a body came between him and the young girl. The body of a boy she knew so well. He didn't turn around, but reached out his hand. The red sunlight struck part of his face, and when he finally turned, she saw him.
Marc was reaching out to her.
'Hold on, Elie. I'm here.'
Elie stood frozen at first, her gaze lost in the face of the boy. Then, slowly, she took his hand.
'Elie, don't worry. I won't let you die.'"
Elie jolted awake in her bed. She had just had that absurd dream again. She was sweating heavily, but this time, she resisted the urge to vomit.
She got up, pale as a sheet, and went to wipe her face. She stared at herself in the mirror and thought about Marc for a few minutes.
He had appeared in that vision. He had acted as if he were confident… but his hand had been trembling. He had promised to stay until the end, and he seemed to have kept that promise.
Water was running down Elie's pale face, and a drop finally fell from her chin. She watched the ripples it created with a curious gaze.Her eyes stayed glued there for a whole minute. Then, on a whim, she tried something.
"Stop"
"Who is here to kill us?"
"I just told you. These four books have nothing to do with our world. You may have noticed that from the little show your friend just gave us. And besides, I see them. Those filthy auras coming from everything."
"You see them, huh?"
Marc didn't want to admit it, but he was a bit disgusted that, in this world, there were other people able to see auras. The first surprise had been Emperor Turcan, and now the wealthy millionaire Rodrigo Sanchez, who possessed a book that seemed to belong to Lavoisi.
But on the other hand, he was relieved that multiple people could prepare for what was coming.
"Why filthy?"
"Yours is filthy. No offense."
"Watch how you speak about the master."
"It's okay, Jin."
Christina, on her end, seemed lost.
"Auras?"
"Don't jump into the conversation just yet, Christina."
The IGA monster was silently watching the three men talking but didn't understand a word they were saying.
"Do you think they'll come soon?"
"Who? The Four Horsemen of the Apocalypse? You think you can stop them?"
"Why not?"
"You're gravely mistaken, my boy. These four monsters are plagues. True cataclysms that cannot be stopped. Maybe there's one you'll be able to touch, but you won't even defeat them. There's nothing we can do against those types. We can only watch."
Marc observed Sanchez for a long time. He had noticed his resignation for a while now. It was as if the millionaire was empty. His body was there, but his mind was no longer present. He simply went on living, waiting for his end. Nothing really scared him anymore.
"I see."
Silence filled the room. To be honest, the mood, which hadn't been great to begin with, took a deep dive.
No one spoke for five minutes, then Marc broke the silence.
"The book..."
"What?"
"Do you still need the book?"
Sanchez thought back to the cursed book he had received. He couldn't help but feel it wasn't a good idea to keep it—and yet, it was also the best thing to do.
Still, something told him the book was better off in the hands of the man standing in front of him than in his own.
He closed his eyes briefly.
"No. I think I've seen enough. I'll go get it."
Sanchez went upstairs to fetch the book. Jin, Marc, and Christina remained alone in the room.
Though she was uncomfortable, Christina still asked her question.
"What's going to happen to this world?"
"I don't know."
Marc answered honestly. He knew nothing—not what was going to happen to him, nor to the world.
All he could do was hope.
However...
"However, I won't just sit back and take it. And even if I haven't always loved it, I'll protect this world, because there are people I care about in it."
Christina looked at Marc with admiration in her eyes. She thought about Malvin and began crying again, just a little.
It was over now. There was nothing left to cry about. His heart, however, remained cold toward the terrible events that had taken place at the IGA.
Sanchez came back down with the book and handed it to Marc. He immediately felt the massive aura emanating from it.
The cover was dark blue, with golden edges. It was a beautiful book to behold. The images were just shapes outlined by heavy, thick black lines, yet almost transparent. There were six shapes along the edge of the cover with golden borders. In the top left, there was a wave with peaks curling over themselves as if about to crash on the ground. Just below, in the middle, there was a solid rock resembling a fractured mountain. A huge fissure had split it in two, and the rock seemed to deteriorate along the edges. Further down, there was a massive wind represented by spirals. In the top right, there was something resembling molten lava flowing down the slopes of a volcano; beneath it, lightning bolts all striking a single point; and finally, a fairly large snowflake, calm and peaceful, seemingly falling serenely.
But the most terrifying thing was the circle at the center of the cover.
A swirling vortex that seemed to swallow all the lines and colors of the book as if it were real. Its center was nothing but pure black, and no one could tell what strange technique had been used to create such an effect.
There was no writing on it. Only golden letters seemed to float above the cover.
They were small, written with immense care. Unfortunately, they remained unreadable, for it was the language of the other world—
a language Marc could not understand.
The book's blue aura felt just as strange.
It seemed to try and drown him. The sensation was nearly suffocating, and Marc struggled to breathe—as if water were covering his body and airways, keeping him from drawing a single breath.
Marc took it, stared at it for a full minute, smiled, then turned toward the door.
Jin followed him, and Sanchez and Christina watched them leave.
"Stop pretending like you've lost all hope."
They opened the door and a ray of sunlight hit Marc's face, though he didn't turn around.
"If you'd really lost all hope, you wouldn't have reacted that way with me. And I think, deep down, since you actually read the book, you know there's still hope. And besides, if you've got a problem, call us."
Marc had smiled as he turned around one last time before Jin closed the door.
Sanchez and Christina stood frozen, thinking about the boy's words. It was… a little stupid. Was the boy trying to act like a hero?
Then the millionaire turned around, laughing.
"What's so funny, sir?"
"He's good with words... but he didn't even notice we don't have his number."
Beginning of the Second Arc: The Great War of the Six