Youri watched Lea in silence as she stepped closer, her movements calm yet deliberate, like someone who had long since learned to exist without urgency. She circled him slowly, her sharp, observant gaze scanning every inch of his battered body. Her gloved fingers hovered near his shoulder but never quite touched, as if she were searching for something unseen—something deeper than flesh.
"What are you doing?" Youri asked, his voice strained but steady.
Lea did not answer immediately. She tilted her head slightly, studying him, then finally spoke in that same low, measured tone. "I'm trying to understand how you're still alive."
Youri frowned. "That's not an answer."
"It is the only one that matters," she replied. "People don't survive encounters with Tikadello. Not like you did."
Youri exhaled slowly, the memory of the battle flashing vividly in his mind—the crushing force, the endless cold, the overwhelming presence of something far beyond him. He looked away, jaw tightening.
"I didn't survive," he muttered. "Not really."
Lea's gaze sharpened, but she said nothing.
After a moment, Youri lifted his head again. "I was brought here," he said. "This wasn't my choice."
Lea's posture shifted—subtle, but unmistakable. "Brought?" she repeated.
Youri nodded. "By something… or someone. You don't happen to know the name Altopereh, do you?"
For the first time, Lea froze.
It wasn't fear—not exactly. But something in her tightened. Her hand curled slightly into a fist beneath the folds of her cloak, and she turned her head toward the cave entrance, avoiding his eyes.
"I see…" she murmured.
Youri noticed. "You know it."
Lea didn't respond directly. Instead, she took a slow step forward, her gaze fixed on the distant horizon beyond the cave. "That still doesn't explain why you were in Tikadello's domain," she said quietly.
Youri blinked. "Tikadello?"
She turned back to him. "The creature that nearly tore you apart," she said. "Tikadello the Frozen. One of the oldest rulers in Tartarus."
Youri's expression hardened. "That thing has a name?"
"They all do," Lea replied. "Names… and histories. Far older than anything you understand."
She began walking toward the cave's entrance, her cloak trailing behind her like a shadow stretching across stone. "That machine of yours," she added without looking back, "it's barely holding together. And worse… it reeks of him."
Youri slowly pushed himself to his feet, wincing as pain shot through his ribs. "Yeah," he said under his breath. "I figured as much."
Lea paused at the threshold of the cave. "I'll take a look at it," she said. "If it can be fixed, I'll know."
Then she stepped outside.
Youri stood there for a moment, watching the empty space she left behind. His mind raced. None of this made sense—this world, these creatures, Lea… and most of all, the fact that he wasn't alone.
He staggered forward, one hand pressed against his side, and made his way toward the cave entrance.
The moment he stepped out, the world opened before him—and it stole the breath from his lungs.
This was no frozen wasteland like the domain he had just escaped.
Before him stretched an immense rocky expanse, jagged and wild, as if the land itself had been shattered and reforged countless times. Towering cliffs rose in uneven layers, their edges sharp and broken, casting long shadows across the terrain. Massive stone pillars jutted upward from the ground like ancient spears, some standing tall, others fractured and leaning at impossible angles.
And then there were the floating formations.
Entire slabs of rock hovered in midair, suspended without support, drifting slowly as if caught in an unseen current. Some rotated lazily, grinding against one another with deep, echoing groans. Others remained perfectly still, defying all logic.
The sky above was no less strange—a deep crimson void streaked with darker currents, like blood flowing through invisible veins. There was no sun, no stars—only an ever-present glow that illuminated the world in an eerie, dim light.
Youri stepped forward slightly, his eyes scanning the endless terrain.
"This place…" he whispered. "It's completely different."
A powerful gust of wind surged through the cliffs, howling like a distant chorus. It carried dust and fragments of stone through the air, brushing against his face and clothes.
Then, suddenly—
A massive shadow passed overhead.
Youri looked up just in time to see it.
Gaisen.
The colossal creature soared through the sky with silent dominance. Its wings stretched wide, cutting through the air with slow, deliberate beats. Its form, once terrifying, now seemed almost… natural here. Like a ruler surveying its domain.
For a brief moment, as it glided between the floating pillars, it resembled something far more graceful than monstrous—like a great bird riding the currents of its own world.
Youri stared, captivated.
"It doesn't feel like a monster here…" he muttered.
"Because it isn't."
Lea's voice came from behind him.
He turned.
She stood just inside the cave's shadow, her hood slightly lifted by the wind, revealing faint strands of silver hair beneath. Her masked face remained unreadable, but her presence carried a quiet weight.
"You should be resting," she said.
Youri shook his head. "I can't."
He looked back at the vast expanse. "If I stay still… I feel like I'll disappear here. Like I'll lose myself."
Lea stepped beside him, her gaze following his.
"…And become a ghost?" she asked softly.
Youri didn't answer, but his silence was enough.
The wind picked up again, stronger this time, pulling at his hair and her cloak alike.
After a moment, he spoke. "How did you find me?" he asked. "Back there… in that ice hell."
Lea's eyes shifted toward the distant horizon.
"Tartarus is not random chaos," she said. "It may look that way to you… but it isn't."
She took a slow step forward, her voice steady but distant, as if recalling something ancient.
"It is a realm of domains. Each one ruled by a being you would call a monster… but that word is too simple."
Youri listened carefully.
"They are not creations," she continued. "They are not born from something greater. They are… what remains."
"Remains of what?" Youri asked.
Lea turned to him.
"Of everything."
He frowned.
She continued, "Every ruler in Tartarus was once something else. A being. A soul. A will. Just like you."
Youri's expression darkened.
"They were shaped by this place," Lea said. "Or perhaps… they shaped it."
The wind howled louder now, echoing between the cliffs.
"Tartarus feeds on what enters it," she went on. "Time, memory, identity… it takes everything, slowly, until all that remains is something new. Something… absolute."
Youri clenched his fist. "You're saying they became those things?"
Lea nodded slightly.
"And you?" he asked. "What are you, then?"
She looked away again.
"I told you," she said quietly. "I'm just a ghost."
Youri stepped closer. "That's not an answer."
Lea didn't respond.
Instead, she lifted her gaze toward the crimson sky.
"Do you know what Tartarus truly is?" she asked.
Youri stayed silent.
Lea's voice softened—but it carried a weight that made the air itself feel heavier.
"Tartarus is not a prison," she said. "Not a world. Not even a dimension."
She turned to him slowly.
"It is where everything begins… and everything ends."
Youri felt a chill run through him.
"This place…" Lea continued, "…is older than creation itself."
The wind fell silent for a brief moment, as if the world itself were listening.
"Tartarus," she said, "is the origin of all things."
Youri stood there, staring at her, unable to speak.
And for the first time since arriving in this broken, impossible world…
He truly understood.
He wasn't just lost.
He was standing at the beginning of everything.