The Tower of Myths loomed endlessly above the fractured world like a pillar stabbed through existence itself.
Ancient.
Infinite.
Watching.
Storms of dimensional energy spiraled around its outer layers while shattered realities drifted through the dark skies like broken mirrors. Entire worlds flickered briefly between visibility and erasure around the tower's higher floors.
And beneath it—
four women were finally converging once more.
Satre and Gramia emerged first from the cavern pathways beneath the wasteland cliffs. Dust and blood marked their clothing while exhaustion weighed visibly against their movements, yet neither slowed.
Because they could feel it now.
The tower.
The pressure.
The war approaching.
Satre's future sight flickered again.
Ten timelines.
Ten minutes.
This time—
she saw familiar faces.
Her chest tightened instantly.
Then—
a pulse of ice swept across the wasteland.
Yura.
The freezing aura erupted violently nearby as several massive void creatures shattered into frozen fragments mid-attack. Silver-blue magic illuminated the dark plains while Yura stepped forward calmly through the storm, untouched by the chaos around her.
Beside her—
Amelia laughed.
Not softly.
Wildly.
Blood floated around her like living ribbons while black-red flames devoured everything nearby. Her scythe carved through another creature in a violent crescent before the blood exploding from its corpse immediately hardened into crimson spears that pierced three more behind it.
The battlefield itself had become their hunting ground.
Gramia blinked once.
"…They got stronger."
Amelia noticed them first.
Her crimson eyes widened.
Then immediately narrowed.
"Took you two long enough."
Yura's composure cracked almost instantly after seeing Satre alive and unharmed.
Relief crossed her face before she moved forward quickly.
"Satre."
The two embraced tightly without hesitation.
Not awkward.
Not uncertain.
Just genuine relief.
Because after everything—
they were still alive.
Amelia approached slower beside Gramia.
"You look terrible," Amelia said casually.
Gramia sighed.
"You look bloodier than usual."
Amelia smirked proudly.
"Thank you."
Despite herself—
Gramia laughed quietly.
The tension broke slightly after that.
For the first time since Babylis separated them—
the group felt whole again.
Almost.
Because one person was still missing.
And everyone felt it.
Satre looked around instinctively despite already knowing the answer.
Shiro wasn't there.
The silence that followed grew heavy immediately.
Yura noticed first.
"You saw him again."
Satre nodded slowly.
Her expression darkened.
"…He's getting stronger."
Amelia folded her arms.
"That's good."
"No," Satre whispered softly.
That single word made the atmosphere shift instantly.
Because Satre's future sight had never sounded afraid before.
Gramia's eyes narrowed slightly.
"What did you see?"
Satre hesitated briefly.
Then answered honestly.
"Raiku is breaking him apart."
The winds around the tower intensified violently.
Yura's frost aura flared instinctively.
Amelia's expression lost all amusement instantly.
Satre continued quietly.
"Every future I see…" Her voice tightened slightly. "He's fighting constantly. His body keeps evolving, but so does the suffering."
Gramia lowered her gaze silently.
Because she understood exactly what that meant.
Raiku wasn't merely torturing Shiro anymore.
He was refining him.
Forging him through pain repeatedly until destruction itself adapted around him.
Amelia suddenly slammed Duskpiercer into the ground hard enough to crack the stone beneath them.
"Then we kill Raiku."
Simple.
Direct.
Violent.
Very Amelia.
But Satre slowly shook her head.
"…We can't yet."
That answer frustrated Amelia instantly.
"Why not?"
Satre's future sight activated again.
Golden light flickered briefly through her eyes.
Then faded.
"Because right now…"
Her voice softened painfully.
"He still loses."
Silence.
Cold.
Heavy silence.
Even Amelia couldn't argue immediately after hearing that.
Far above them, the Tower of Myths rumbled softly.
As if reacting to the conversation itself.
Yura looked upward toward the endless structure.
"Then we get stronger."
Her voice was calm.
Absolute.
The Sin of Lust pulsed faintly beneath her magic now, no longer merely ice and elegance. Desire itself had begun blending into her power, turning her presence strangely overwhelming despite her calm demeanor.
Amelia stepped beside her.
Black-red flames mixed with blood around her body in slow spirals.
"And fast."
Gramia adjusted her glasses quietly before looking toward the tower.
"The Tower changes depending on the god influencing the realm. If Babylis is controlling this layer…"
Her expression darkened slightly.
"…then the climb ahead won't be straightforward."
Satre slowly placed one hand against Gurtër.
The divine sword hummed softly beneath her touch.
"It doesn't matter."
The others looked toward her.
Satre's golden eyes burned now.
Not with rage.
Conviction.
"We climb anyway."
The storm surrounding the tower intensified.
Ancient runes ignited across the lower floors one after another.
The Tower of Myths had acknowledged them.
Four future goddesses.
Four women tied directly to the boy currently shaking entire dimensions through suffering alone.
And somewhere far away—
inside a crimson arena soaked in blood—
Shiro suddenly stopped fighting for one brief moment.
Because for the first time in weeks—
he felt warmth again.