Chapter 1: Twilight of a Crimson World
The sky above Misaki Town bled crimson.
Not the gentle red of sunset, but something vicious and unnatural—as if reality itself was hemorrhaging. Buildings crumbled in the distance, their foundations giving way to nothingness. Streets cracked open like parched lips, swallowing cars and lampposts whole. The air tasted of copper and ash.
In the midst of this apocalypse, a single tear opened in the fabric of space. It started small—a pinprick of absolute darkness against the bleeding sky—before violently tearing itself wider.
From this void, a man fell.
Long Chen crashed into the remains of what had once been a park, his body making a small crater in the earth. For a moment, he remained still, face pressed against unfamiliar soil. Then, with a low groan, he pushed himself to his knees and surveyed his surroundings with sharp eyes.
"What in the nine hells..." he muttered, rising to his feet.
He was tall and powerfully built, with handsome features marred by a wild intensity. His dark hair whipped about his face in a wind that seemed to affect him alone. At his side hung Evilmoon, a black saber that seemed to drink in what little light remained in this dying world.
Long Chen had been in the midst of battle—facing down a sect of corrupt cultivators who had dared to threaten his brothers. He remembered raising Evilmoon, remembered calling upon the power of his third Enlightenment Star to crush his enemies. Then...nothing. Just a sensation of falling through endless darkness before landing here.
Wherever "here" was.
The Nine Star Hegemon Body Art cultivator narrowed his eyes, extending his spiritual sense outward. Immediately, he recoiled. The laws of heaven and earth here were different—twisted, fractured, like a mirror shattered and poorly reassembled. Worse, he couldn't feel the familiar channels of spiritual energy that should have flowed through the land.
In their place was something else. Something both more primal and more refined than the spiritual energy he knew.
"Different world, different rules," Long Chen muttered to himself, a wry smile touching his lips. It wasn't the first time fate had thrown him into an impossible situation.
He looked down at his body, assessing. His physical form remained intact. He could feel his Nine Stars burning within him—dimmer than usual, but present. The Divine Ring in his dantian continued to spin, though sluggishly. Evilmoon remained faithfully at his side.
A distant explosion drew his attention. Looking up, he saw another building collapse in the city center. But this was no natural disaster—Long Chen's eyes narrowed as he spotted inhuman shapes moving through the smoke and debris.
Predators. Hunters. He recognized their intent if not their nature.
"Well," he said, adjusting his grip on Evilmoon, "I suppose I should introduce myself to the locals."
With a burst of power, Long Chen leaped toward the chaos.
Arcueid Brunestud was having a frustrating evening.
What had begun as a routine hunt for a single Dead Apostle had spiraled into something far worse. Dozens of vampire spawn now swarmed the city, feeding indiscriminately on the few humans who hadn't evacuated. Worse, they seemed organized—coordinated in a way that suggested a higher intelligence directing them.
And the sky... the sky had begun bleeding hours ago, a phenomenon even she couldn't explain.
"You're being stubborn again," she muttered to herself, tearing through three vampires with a casual sweep of her arm. Their bodies disintegrated into ash, carried away by an unnatural wind. "This isn't just apostle activity."
Her golden eyes gleamed in the crimson light as she scanned the chaotic cityscape. Something fundamental was wrong with the world itself. She could feel it as the Earth's living embodiment—a sickness spreading through reality's foundations.
A flash of movement caught her attention. One moment, the street before her was empty save for rubble and abandoned vehicles. The next, a tall figure stood there, a black blade gleaming in his hand.
Arcueid's eyes narrowed. Not human. Not vampire. Not anything she recognized.
The stranger turned, seeming to sense her presence. For a moment, their eyes met across the devastated street—her golden irises meeting his star-bright gaze.
Then they both moved, their attention drawn to the same threat: a wave of Dead Apostles surging from a collapsed subway entrance.
Long Chen moved first, faster than Arcueid expected. Evilmoon flashed once, twice, three times—each swing impossibly quick, each cut precise and devastating. Three vampires fell, their bodies cleaved in half before they could even register the threat.
"Interesting," Arcueid murmured, a small smile playing at her lips. Then she too entered the fray.
To any observer—had any survived in this wasteland—the battle would have appeared as a beautiful dance of destruction. Arcueid's movements were effortless, elegant despite their brutal efficiency. Her bare hands tore through vampiric flesh as easily as paper. Where she walked, the earth itself seemed to rise up in defense, stone and metal bending to her unconscious will.
But the stranger matched her, step for step.
Long Chen fought with the focused intensity of a storm. Evilmoon became a blur of darkness in his hands, cutting perfect arcs through the air. When surrounded, he simply laughed—a wild, fearless sound—and unleashed a pulse of star energy that disintegrated his attackers.
"These creatures," he called out as they fought back-to-back, "what are they?"
"Dead Apostles," Arcueid replied, crushing a vampire's skull between her fingers. "Vampires. Lesser ones, but too many."
Long Chen nodded, processing this information with remarkable ease. "And you? You're different. Stronger."
"I'm a True Ancestor," she said, glancing over her shoulder at him. "The question is, what are you? You're not from here."
Before Long Chen could answer, the ground beneath them shuddered violently. The remaining vampires scattered, fleeing something even they feared.
From the depths of the subway tunnel emerged a figure that radiated ancient malice. Tall and aristocratic, with silver hair that seemed to float in defiance of gravity, the newcomer wore an expression of cold amusement. His eyes—red as the dying sky—fixed immediately on Long Chen.
"How curious," the figure said, his voice carrying easily despite the chaos around them. "Something new has entered our little game."
Arcueid's expression hardened. "A projection," she said quietly. "Not the real thing, but dangerous enough."
"You know him?" Long Chen asked, shifting his stance subtly. The Divine Ring within him began to spin faster, responding to the threat.
"Crimson Moon," Arcueid said, and there was something complex in her voice—hatred and longing intertwined. "My... progenitor, you could say."
The projection smiled, revealing gleaming fangs. "I sensed a disturbance in the world's fabric. Something falling through from... elsewhere." His gaze traveled over Long Chen appraisingly. "What are you, foreign star? Another doomed candle in this dying world?"
Long Chen met the ancient vampire's gaze steadily. In that moment, he felt the weight of the being's existence—old beyond comprehension, powerful enough to challenge the heavens themselves.
It reminded him of facing Sect Masters and Ancient Ancestors back home. The same arrogance. The same assumption of superiority.
Long Chen hated that look.
Without warning, he raised Evilmoon. The black saber's edge gleamed with a cold light as he channeled his star energy into the blade. The air around him distorted, pressure building as he prepared one of his most devastating techniques.
"Split the Heavens!"
The attack wasn't merely physical. It was a statement of defiance against the very concept of submission. The saber slash tore through reality itself, leaving a crescent moon-shaped void in its wake as it screamed toward Crimson Moon's projection.
The vampire's eyes widened fractionally—the only indication of surprise from such an ancient being—before the attack struck. For a moment, nothing happened.
Then the ground between them erupted. Buildings on either side of the street sheared apart, cut cleanly by the attack's passage. The moon visible through the bleeding sky trembled, as if the attack had reached even that distant body.
When the dust settled, Crimson Moon's projection remained standing—but a deep furrow had been carved through his chest, leaking darkness rather than blood.
"Oh?" The Ultimate One's lips curved in genuine amusement. "How fascinating."
Arcueid stared at Long Chen with newfound interest. Few beings could damage a projection of Crimson Moon, even slightly.
"I am Long Chen," the cultivator declared, pointing Evilmoon at the ancient vampire. "And I bow to no fate, no heaven, and certainly not to you."
The projection's laughter echoed across the ruined cityscape. "Long Chen," he repeated, as if tasting the name. "Remember this, my child," he added, glancing at Arcueid. "This one is different. Perhaps... significant."
With those cryptic words, the projection dissolved into particles of darkness, leaving behind only its lingering amusement.
For a moment, silence reigned over the devastated street. Then Arcueid turned to fully face Long Chen, her golden eyes calculating.
"That was... impressive," she said, sincerity in her voice. "But now I'm even more curious. What exactly are you, Long Chen? And why are you here, at the precise moment our world begins to end?"
Long Chen sheathed Evilmoon with a practiced motion. His expression was open yet guarded—a man accustomed to making quick judgments about potential allies and enemies.
"To answer your second question first: I have no idea why I'm here. One moment I was in the midst of battle in my own world, the next I was falling through darkness." He gestured at the crimson sky. "As for what I am... I'm a cultivator. Someone who refines his body and spirit to challenge the heavens themselves."
Arcueid's head tilted slightly, golden hair catching the crimson light. "A cultivator," she repeated. "From another world entirely." She paused, then smiled—a sudden, genuine expression that transformed her face. "How interesting! I've lived for centuries, and still, the world finds ways to surprise me."
Long Chen found himself smiling back, despite the dire circumstances. There was something refreshing about her reaction—an honest curiosity rather than suspicion.
"This world," he said, growing serious again. "You said it's ending?"
Arcueid's smile faded. "Yes. It started weeks ago. Reality fracturing. Boundaries between worlds thinning. The Counter Force—the planet's defense mechanism—is failing." She looked up at the bleeding sky. "What you're seeing is the death of a world that shouldn't be dying."
Long Chen followed her gaze. "I've seen my share of impossible situations," he said quietly. "Where I come from, those who cultivate the martial path don't accept fate lying down."
"And what would you do?" Arcueid asked, genuine curiosity in her voice. "Even I, with all my power as Earth's guardian, haven't found a solution."
Long Chen's star-bright eyes gleamed with determination. "First, gather information. Understand the enemy. Then..." His hand rested on Evilmoon's hilt. "Then we fight back. One step at a time."
Arcueid studied him for a long moment, then nodded decisively. "There's someone we should meet. Another who refuses to accept this end." She stepped closer to Long Chen, her movement graceful despite her casual attire. "Can I trust you, cultivator from another world?"
Long Chen met her gaze steadily. "I protect my own, fight for what's right, and never abandon those who stand with me. That's who I am, regardless of which world I find myself in."
Something passed between them then—a moment of recognition between two beings of tremendous power who had walked lonely paths.
"That's good enough for me," Arcueid said, extending her hand. "Come. We have work to do before this crimson twilight becomes eternal night."
Together, they turned toward the heart of the dying city, two legends walking side by side for the first time—but not the last.
Behind them, unnoticed, the tear in reality through which Long Chen had arrived pulsed once... and widened.
In the shadow of a collapsed office building, a figure watched the departure of the True Ancestor and the strange newcomer. Cloaked in darkness, only her eyes were visible—deep blue orbs filled with ancient knowledge.
Aozaki Aoko, the Fifth Magician, master of the Blue, let out a low whistle.
"Well," she murmured to herself, "this changes everything."
She pulled a silver pocket watch from her jacket, flipping it open. The timepiece didn't show hours and minutes, but rather a complex magical formula that spiraled inward toward the center.
The formula was degrading, unraveling toward inevitable heat death.
"Or maybe," Aoko amended, snapping the watch closed as she rose to follow the unlikely pair, "it changes nothing at all."
The end of the world, after all, had always been just a matter of time.
Star Sovereign's Journey Across the Broken Heavens
Chapter 2: Between Worlds Colliding
Arcueid moved through the ruined city with preternatural grace, navigating the debris-strewn streets as easily as if they were pristine pathways. Long Chen followed, his movements equally fluid yet markedly different—where she glided, he strode with purpose; where she seemed to float, he commanded the ground beneath his feet.
"This ally of yours," Long Chen said, stepping over a fallen streetlight. "Are they like you? A... True Ancestor, you called it?"
Arcueid shook her head, golden hair catching the crimson light. "No. She's human. Mostly." A smile played at her lips. "Her name is Ciel. She's what they call an Executor—someone who hunts vampires and other supernatural threats. She's been trying to organize an evacuation of the remaining civilians."
"In my world, we have similar arrangements," Long Chen mused. "Sects responsible for protecting common people from demonic beasts and cultivators who've gone astray."
"And which were you?" Arcueid asked, glancing back at him with genuine curiosity. "Protector or threat?"
Long Chen's lips curved into a half-smile. "Depends on who you ask. To my brothers and those under my protection, I was the former. To the corrupt sects and arrogant nobles..." He shrugged. "Let's just say I've never been good at bowing my head to those who don't deserve respect."
"I think I'm going to like you, Long Chen," Arcueid said with a laugh that seemed startlingly bright against the apocalyptic backdrop.
They rounded a corner into what had once been a busy commercial district. Now, the storefronts were shattered, goods looted or abandoned. In the center of the street stood a makeshift barricade constructed from overturned vehicles and debris. Armed figures moved behind it—ordinary humans clutching improvised weapons alongside a few who carried themselves with more confidence.
One figure stood apart from the rest. A young woman with blue hair wearing what appeared to be a church uniform, modified for combat. In her hands were twin blades that gleamed with an unnatural light. She turned sharply as Arcueid and Long Chen approached, her eyes narrowing at the sight of the unfamiliar man.
"Arcueid," she called out, voice tense. "Who is this?"
"A new friend," Arcueid replied cheerfully, seemingly immune to the gravity of their circumstances. "His name is Long Chen. He fell from the sky and can cut projections of the Crimson Moon. Isn't that interesting?"
Ciel's expression suggested she found it considerably more suspicious than interesting. She approached cautiously, her blades still raised. "He's not human," she stated, studying Long Chen with critical eyes. "But not a Dead Apostle either. Not any kind of supernatural being I recognize."
"I'm a cultivator," Long Chen offered, meeting her gaze steadily. "From another world entirely, it seems."
"Another world," Ciel repeated flatly. "Of course. Because a vampire apocalypse and reality bleed weren't enough problems." Despite her words, her posture relaxed slightly. She glanced at Arcueid. "You trust him?"
"I do," Arcueid said with surprising conviction. "He fights like nothing I've ever seen. And he stood against—"
"We have company!" A shout from the barricade interrupted their conversation.
Long Chen turned, his hand instinctively moving to Evilmoon's hilt. From the north came a wave of distortion—not physical entities but a rippling in the air itself, as if reality was being stretched to its breaking point.
"Reality fracture," Ciel said grimly. "The third one today. Everyone, take cover!"
The armed humans scrambled for shelter, but Arcueid remained standing, her golden eyes fixed on the approaching anomaly. Long Chen stayed beside her, curiosity mingling with caution.
"What happens when that reaches us?" he asked quietly.
"Unpredictable," Arcueid replied. "Sometimes nothing. Sometimes areas cease to exist or transform into... something else. Places where the laws of physics no longer apply. Or worse, where different realities bleed together."
Long Chen considered this, then stepped forward. "Let me try something."
Before Arcueid or Ciel could protest, he drew Evilmoon and planted his feet firmly. The Divine Ring within his dantian began to spin rapidly, harmonizing with the broken world around him. It was different from his home universe—the energy here felt more conceptual, less directly tied to heaven and earth—but the principles remained the same.
Balance. Harmony. Force responding to force.
Long Chen raised Evilmoon, channeling his star energy into the black blade. The air around him distorted as he gathered power, not to attack, but to stabilize.
"What is he doing?" Ciel demanded, moving to Arcueid's side.
Arcueid shook her head, fascinated. "I'm not sure, but... look."
Where the reality fracture met the field of energy Long Chen was projecting, it slowed. The distortion rippled against his power like waves against a shore, gradually losing momentum. Long Chen's expression tightened with concentration as he adjusted, feeling out the strange forces threatening to unravel reality.
"This is... peculiar," he muttered. "It's like trying to hold water with bare hands."
With a swift motion, he slashed Evilmoon through the air—not to cut, but to trace a boundary. The black saber left a trail of star energy that hardened into a shimmering barrier. The reality fracture pressed against it, then began to divert, flowing around the protected area like water around a rock.
Long Chen maintained the barrier for several minutes until the fracture passed completely, dissipating into the distance. Only then did he lower Evilmoon, a slight sheen of sweat on his brow.
"Impressive," Ciel admitted reluctantly. "But temporary."
"Everything is temporary," Long Chen replied, sheathing his saber. "That doesn't make it worthless."
A slow clapping sound drew their attention. From the shadows of a partially collapsed building stepped Aozaki Aoko, her blue eyes gleaming with interest.
"Now that," she said, approaching the group, "was something I haven't seen before." She fixed her gaze on Long Chen. "And I've seen quite a lot."
"Aoko," Arcueid greeted her with a nod. "Perfect timing as usual."
"Who's this now?" Long Chen asked, studying the newcomer. Though she appeared human, there was something about her that reminded him of the most dangerous Sect Ancestors he'd encountered—power carefully contained, knowledge gleaming behind casual demeanor.
"Aozaki Aoko," she introduced herself, offering a hand Western-style. "Some call me the Blue. Others call me the Fifth Magician. I prefer Aoko."
Long Chen clasped her hand briefly. "Long Chen. Cultivator of the Nine Star Hegemon Body Art."
"Yes, I heard," Aoko said with a small smile. "I've been watching. Your arrival has created quite the ripple in what remains of the timeline."
"You know something about why I'm here?" Long Chen asked sharply.
Aoko's smile turned enigmatic. "Not why. But perhaps I know something about how." She glanced at the crimson sky. "We shouldn't talk here, though. The next fracture will be worse, and even your impressive barrier technique won't hold against it."
Ciel nodded in agreement. "We have a safe zone established beneath the old church. We should relocate there immediately."
"Wait," Long Chen said, his gaze suddenly distant. The others watched as he closed his eyes, extending his senses outward in a way none of them quite recognized.
After a moment, his eyes snapped open. "There are survivors trapped two blocks north of here. I can feel their life force."
Ciel's expression turned grim. "The northern district is overrun with Dead Apostles. We've been trying to reach it, but—"
"Then let's go," Long Chen said simply, as if it were the most obvious thing in the world.
"Just like that?" Ciel asked, incredulous.
"Just like that," he confirmed. "We can talk about cosmic fractures and my mysterious arrival after we've saved the people who are still alive to be saved."
Arcueid laughed—a sound of genuine delight. "I told you I was going to like him," she said to Ciel, before turning to Long Chen. "I'll come with you. Between the two of us, a few Dead Apostles won't be a problem."
Ciel sighed, but her expression had softened slightly. "Fine. Aoko and I will prepare the safe zone and gather the remaining civilians from this sector." She fixed Long Chen with a stern look. "But afterward, we talk. No deflections, no mysteries. Clear?"
Long Chen nodded once. "Clear."
As they prepared to separate, Aoko placed a hand on Long Chen's arm. "One piece of advice, cultivator," she said quietly. "This world operates on different principles than yours. Here, concepts and symbols hold power as real as your star energy. Remember that when you fight."
Long Chen considered her words, then nodded again. "Thank you."
"Come on," Arcueid said, already moving north. "I'll race you there."
With a flash of star energy, Long Chen launched himself forward, matching her supernatural speed. Together they tore through the ruined cityscape, two forces of nature rushing toward what would prove to be the first of many battles in this broken world.
The northern district had once been a residential area—apartments and small family homes now reduced to hollowed shells. The silence here was oppressive, broken only by the occasional distant crash as weakened structures continued to collapse under their own weight.
Long Chen moved cautiously alongside Arcueid, his senses extended to their limit.
"There," he whispered, indicating a half-collapsed apartment building. "Basement level. Seven... no, eight life signatures. Weak, but stable."
Arcueid raised an eyebrow. "You can sense that specifically? Impressive."
"In my world, spiritual sense is one of the first skills a cultivator develops," Long Chen explained. "Though I admit, the energies here respond differently. It's like... trying to listen to a familiar song played on unfamiliar instruments."
"And the Dead Apostles?" Arcueid asked, scanning their surroundings.
Long Chen's expression darkened. "All around us. At least twenty. They're... waiting."
"A trap, then," Arcueid concluded, seemingly unbothered by this revelation. "They're using the survivors as bait."
"A poor choice of prey," Long Chen said, a dangerous edge entering his voice.
Without warning, he leaped atop a broken wall, making no attempt to hide his presence. "I know you're there," he called out, his voice carrying through the silent district. "Release the humans, and I might let you die quickly."
For a moment, nothing happened. Then laughter—dry and rasping—echoed from multiple directions.
From shadows and rubble, figures began to emerge. Humanoid but wrong—movements too fluid, eyes gleaming with unnatural hunger. At their center stood a taller figure, elegant in a blood-stained business suit, his eyes crimson against paper-white skin.
"Such arrogance," the leader said, his voice cultured despite the inhuman resonance beneath it. "You smell... different. Not human. Not anything I recognize." He inhaled deeply, nostrils flaring. "Delicious, I imagine."
Long Chen's response was a cold smile. "You wouldn't be the first monster to try taking a bite out of me." His hand rested casually on Evilmoon's hilt. "I'll give you one chance to walk away."
The vampire lord's laughter cut short as Arcueid stepped into view beside Long Chen. His eyes widened in recognition and something close to fear.
"The White Princess," he hissed.
"You know who I am," Arcueid said pleasantly. "Yet you're still here, hurting my humans. That's not very smart."
The vampire lord's fear gave way to a desperate calculation. He gestured sharply, and his followers tensed, ready to attack. "The Princess is mine," he commanded. "Kill the stranger."
What followed was less a battle than a slaughter.
The vampires moved with supernatural speed, converging on Long Chen from all directions at once. To ordinary eyes, they would have been invisible blurs. To Long Chen, they might as well have been moving through molasses.
Evilmoon sang as it cut through the air. Five vampires fell in the first sweep, their bodies disintegrating into ash before they hit the ground. The remaining attackers hesitated, suddenly uncertain.
Long Chen didn't give them time to reconsider. He activated the First Star Battle Armor—a shimmering layer of star energy that coated his body, enhancing his already formidable strength and speed. With a burst of power, he launched himself into the heart of their formation.
Nearby, Arcueid dealt with the vampire lord with casual efficiency. He had barely begun an attack when her hand plunged through his chest, tearing out something dark and pulsing. The vampire had time for one look of disbelief before crumbling into dust.
"That was anticlimactic," she commented, dusting off her hands as she turned to watch Long Chen finish the remaining vampires.
The last Dead Apostle fell, and Long Chen dispelled his Battle Armor, the star energy receding into his body. "Hardly worth drawing Evilmoon," he agreed, though there was no arrogance in his tone—merely an honest assessment.
Arcueid approached him, studying his face with open curiosity. "That armor of yours... it's not a Mystic Code or magecraft."
"It's the manifestation of my First Star," Long Chen explained, tapping his chest. "Part of the Nine Star Hegemon Body Art. Each star, when cultivated, grants different abilities and enhancements."
"And you have... how many of these stars active?"
"Three, currently," Long Chen admitted. "My journey was... interrupted before I could cultivate further."
Arcueid's eyes widened slightly. "And at three stars, you can already fight like that. Interesting indeed."
A faint cry from beneath the rubble reminded them of their purpose. Together, they quickly cleared the debris blocking the apartment building's basement entrance. Inside, they found eight survivors—a mix of adults and children, huddled in the dark, terrified but alive.
Long Chen approached them carefully, conscious of how he might appear to these traumatized humans. To his surprise, one of the children—a girl no more than six years old—broke away from the group and ran toward him, wrapping tiny arms around his leg.
"You came," she said simply, looking up at him with absolute conviction. "I told them you would."
Long Chen blinked, momentarily at a loss. He gently placed a hand on the child's head. "Of course," he said, his gruff voice softening. "I always come when needed."
The girl nodded as if this confirmed something she had always known.
Arcueid watched the interaction with a strange expression—something between amusement and wistfulness. "We should get them back to the safe zone," she said after a moment. "Can you carry two of them? I'll take the rest."
Long Chen nodded, carefully picking up the girl who had embraced him and another child whose leg appeared injured. As they prepared to leave, Arcueid paused.
"Long Chen," she said, her voice uncharacteristically serious. "What you did with the reality fracture earlier... Could you do something similar for these people? Some kind of protection against what's happening to the world?"
Long Chen considered for a moment, then nodded. "I think so. It won't be permanent, but..."
Shifting the children carefully, he extended his free hand and summoned a portion of his star energy. Golden light flowed from his palm, enveloping each survivor in a subtle, protective aura.
"There," he said. "It should shield them from minor reality fluctuations, at least until we reach safety."
One of the adult survivors, an older woman with steel-gray hair, stared at Long Chen with wide eyes. "Are you... an angel?" she asked hesitantly.
Long Chen couldn't help but laugh—a warm, genuine sound that seemed to brighten the dim basement. "No," he said, shaking his head. "Just someone who happened to be passing through."
"An angel wouldn't laugh like that," the little girl in his arms declared confidently. "Angels are too serious. You're better."
As they emerged from the basement into the crimson twilight, Long Chen found himself reflecting on the strange path that had brought him here. Different world, different rules—yet some things remained constant. The vulnerable still needed protection. The strong still had responsibility. And he, Long Chen, still refused to bow before fate.
Whatever cosmic force had pulled him into this dying world had perhaps made a grave miscalculation.
Because Long Chen had never been particularly good at accepting endings—especially those decreed by heaven itself.
The "safe zone" beneath the old church was larger than Long Chen expected. The church itself was a European-style cathedral that had somehow remained standing despite the chaos consuming the city above. Below it stretched a network of catacombs and chambers that had been hastily converted into a refugee center.
Ciel met them at the entrance, directing the survivors to medical stations and food distribution points. Her efficient commands belied genuine concern for their wellbeing—something Long Chen noted with approval.
"You found them all alive," she remarked, something like respect creeping into her voice. "That's... unexpected. The northern district has been a death trap for days."
"Long Chen made it look easy," Arcueid said, setting down the survivors she had carried. "And he did something interesting with his energy—protected them somehow."
Ciel's eyes narrowed with professional interest. "We should talk. Aoko is waiting in the strategy room."
She led them deeper into the catacombs, past chambers filled with frightened civilians and makeshift barricades. Long Chen observed everything carefully, noting defensive positions, exit routes, and the handful of combat-capable individuals among the refugees. Old habits died hard, even in a different universe.
The "strategy room" turned out to be an ancient chapel, its religious icons long since removed or destroyed. A large stone table dominated the center, covered with maps and what appeared to be magical instruments. Aozaki Aoko leaned over these, her blue hair falling forward as she made calculations.
She looked up as they entered, her eyes immediately finding Long Chen. "Good, you're back. And in one piece, which says something about your capabilities."
"The survivors are safe," Ciel reported. "Thanks largely to our... visitor."
Aoko nodded, gesturing for them to join her at the table. "Then perhaps he can help with our larger problem as well." She tapped the map before her. "The reality fractures are increasing in frequency and intensity. This world is coming apart at the seams."
Long Chen studied the map, quickly grasping that the markings indicated fracture events. "They're forming a pattern," he observed. "Spiraling inward toward the city center."
"Exactly," Aoko confirmed, looking impressed. "Something at the center is pulling reality apart. We've been trying to evacuate as many people as possible, but the fractures are making conventional travel increasingly dangerous."
"What's at the center?" Long Chen asked.
Aoko and Ciel exchanged glances. "We're not entirely sure," Ciel admitted. "Our attempts to investigate have been... unsuccessful."
"They've been fatal," Arcueid corrected bluntly. "Three teams haven't returned. Even I couldn't get close enough—the conceptual interference becomes too strong."
Long Chen frowned, considering this. "In my world, when multiple spatial phenomena converge on a single point, it usually indicates a dimensional tear or a spiritual convergence."
"That matches our theory," Aoko said, nodding. "We believe the Root itself—Akasha, the origin of all existence—has become unstable. Something is causing different realities to bleed together."
"And I'm... what? A symptom of this convergence?" Long Chen asked.
Aoko shook her head. "I don't think so. Your arrival didn't precede the fractures—they've been happening for weeks. But your presence might be significant in another way." She fixed him with an intense gaze. "You're completely outside our world's system. Not bound by our rules or conceptual frameworks."
"You think that's why I could affect the reality fracture," Long Chen realized.
"Precisely," Aoko confirmed. "Our magecraft, even Arcueid's nature as a True Ancestor—they're all part of this world's fabric. When that fabric unravels, our power unravels with it. But you..."
"I'm operating on a different system entirely," Long Chen finished. "The Nine Star Hegemon Body Art isn't connected to your world's rules."
"Which might make you uniquely capable of approaching the center," Ciel concluded, her expression thoughtful. "Of potentially addressing whatever is causing this."
Long Chen was silent for a moment, weighing their words. Finally, he spoke: "Where I come from, there's a saying: 'When heaven delivers a task, it also provides the means to complete it.'" He looked around at the three women watching him intently. "Perhaps my arrival here wasn't a coincidence."
Arcueid's eyes lit up. "So you'll help?"
"I'll do more than help," Long Chen said, determination hardening his features. "I'll stop it."
Something in his voice—the absolute certainty, the unshakable resolve—caused even Ciel to look momentarily taken aback.
Aoko smiled, a knowing look in her eyes. "I had a feeling you'd say that." She pointed to a specific location on the map. "We'll need to prepare carefully. The journey to the center won't be simple—reality itself will resist."
"When do we leave?" Long Chen asked.
"Dawn," Ciel answered. "Or what passes for dawn in this endless twilight. We should rest while we can."
As the meeting concluded, Arcueid fell into step beside Long Chen as they left the chapel. "You know," she said conversationally, "most people would be more hesitant about diving into the apocalyptic heart of a dying world they've only just arrived in."
Long Chen shrugged. "I've never been 'most people.'"
"Clearly," Arcueid agreed, her golden eyes studying him with renewed interest. "What drives you, Long Chen? Why throw yourself into our problems so readily?"
He considered her question seriously. "In my world, I've seen what happens when the strong ignore their responsibility to protect others. I've watched corrupt sects sacrifice innocents for power, seen arrogant nobles treat commoners as pawns." His voice hardened. "I swore I would never be like them."
"Even in a world not your own?" Arcueid pressed. "Among people you've never met?"
"Especially then," Long Chen replied simply. "What kind of man would I be if my principles only applied when convenient?"
Arcueid was silent for a long moment. Then, unexpectedly, she laughed—a bright, musical sound. "You're a strange one, Long Chen. I've lived for centuries, and humans rarely surprise me anymore." Her smile turned warm. "It's refreshing."
Before Long Chen could respond, a commotion erupted from the entrance to the catacombs. Voices raised in alarm, followed by the sounds of running feet. Long Chen and Arcueid exchanged quick glances before rushing toward the disturbance.
They arrived to find Ciel already there, her Black Keys drawn as she faced a new arrival. A young woman with long purple hair stood at the entrance, supporting a gravely injured man. Both were covered in blood.
"Ciel, please," the woman was saying, her voice strained. "He needs help immediately. The fracture—it hit our shelter without warning."
Ciel hesitated, suspicion evident in her stance. "How did you find this place, Sion? We've been careful to conceal its location."
"I'm an Atlas alchemist," the woman named Sion replied, frustration bleeding through her exhaustion. "Following energy signatures is basic work. Now please, Riesbyfe is dying!"
Long Chen stepped forward, assessing the injured man with a practiced eye. Despite Sion's words, he realized the "man" was actually a woman in armor, gravely wounded. Something about her injuries struck him as unusual—they seemed to shimmer at the edges, as if not entirely physical.
"Conceptual damage," Arcueid murmured, confirming his suspicion. "From the fracture itself. Normal healing won't work."
Without hesitation, Long Chen moved to the injured woman's side. "I can help," he said, addressing Sion directly. "If you'll allow it."
Sion blinked, noticing him for the first time. Confusion crossed her features, followed by desperate hope. "Who—"
"Questions later," Long Chen interrupted gently. "Healing first."
After a brief hesitation, Sion nodded. Together, they lowered Riesbyfe to the ground. Long Chen knelt beside her, placing one hand on her forehead and the other over her most serious wound—a gash across her abdomen that seemed to flicker in and out of existence.
Long Chen closed his eyes, extending his spiritual sense into the injured woman. What he found confirmed Arcueid's assessment—the wound existed on multiple levels, damaging not just flesh but the very concept of the woman's existence.
Healing such an injury would require more than conventional methods.
Drawing on his Divine Ring, Long Chen began channeling energy—not to force healing directly, but to stabilize the conceptual fluctuations. He recalled Aoko's words about this world's different principles. Here, concepts held power equal to physical forces.
So instead of trying to heal flesh alone, he focused on reinforcing the concept of "Riesbyfe"—her identity, her purpose, her very being.
To the observers, it appeared as if golden light flowed from Long Chen's hands, enveloping Riesbyfe in a gentle glow. The flickering edges of her wounds steadied, then slowly began to close. Color returned to her pale face, and her labored breathing eased.
After several minutes, Long Chen sat back, a sheen of sweat on his brow. "She'll live," he announced. "Though she'll need rest to fully recover."
Sion stared at him in open astonishment. "That wasn't magecraft," she stated. "What did you do? Who are you?"
"His name is Long Chen," Arcueid answered before he could speak. "And he's going to help us save what's left of our world."
Hours later, as the refugees settled into an uneasy sleep, Long Chen found himself unable to rest. He made his way to the surface, emerging from the church into the crimson twilight that seemed eternal now. The city spread before him—broken, dying, yet somehow still clinging to existence.
He sensed Arcueid's presence before he saw her. She perched atop the church's roof, golden eyes fixed on the twisted moon visible through the bleeding sky.
With a single leap enhanced by star energy, Long Chen joined her. They sat in companionable silence for several minutes.
"You should be resting," Arcueid finally said, though there was no reproach in her voice. "Tomorrow will test even your considerable strength."
"I was thinking," Long Chen replied. "About what Aoko said regarding the Root—Akasha. In my world, we have similar concepts about the source of all existence."
Arcueid turned to face him fully. "And?"
"If your Root is truly destabilizing, causing realities to bleed together... then my presence here might not be an isolated incident." Long Chen's gaze swept over the ruined city. "Others might be falling through as well. From my world, or from others entirely."
"You think we're not just dealing with reality fractures, but with... visitors?" Arcueid considered the possibility. "That would complicate things further."
"Or simplify them," Long Chen countered. "If I can travel here, perhaps the way back exists as well. A path that could be used to evacuate your people if saving this world proves impossible."
Arcueid's expression turned somber. "You're already thinking of contingencies. Planning for failure."
"Planning for all outcomes," Long Chen corrected. "A good general considers every possibility—victory, defeat, and the paths between."
"And if there is no path between?" Arcueid asked softly. "If our only options are to save this world or watch it die entirely?"
Long Chen's eyes hardened with determination. "Then we save it. Whatever the cost."
A small smile touched Arcueid's lips. "You say that as if it's simple."
"Not simple," Long Chen replied. "But clear." He turned to face her directly. "In all my battles, all my struggles against heaven and earth, I've learned one truth: the moment you accept defeat as inevitable is the moment you've truly lost."
Arcueid studied him with ancient eyes that had seen civilizations rise and fall. "You really believe that, don't you? That anything can be overcome with enough will."
"Not will alone," Long Chen said. "Will, wisdom, strength, and most importantly—" he tapped his chest, over his heart, "—knowing what you're fighting for."
"And what are you fighting for, Long Chen? Here, in a world not your own?"
Long Chen's gaze returned to the broken city. "The same thing I always fight for. Those who cannot fight for themselves." He paused, then added more quietly, "And for the chance to return to my own world someday. To the brothers and responsibilities I left behind."
"I hope you get that chance," Arcueid said with surprising gentleness.
Long Chen looked at her curiously. "You've protected this world for centuries, haven't you? As Earth's embodiment."
Arcueid nodded. "It's my nature, my purpose."
"Then tomorrow, we fight with the same purpose," Long Chen said, rising to his feet. He offered her his hand. "For this world and all others threatened by whatever is breaking reality apart."
Arcueid looked at his outstretched hand for a moment before taking it, allowing him to help her up—a gesture she clearly didn't need but accepted nonetheless.
"For this world," she agreed, her golden eyes meeting his star-bright gaze.
Behind them, unnoticed, the moon pulsed once with an unnatural light. And far below, in the heart of the dying city, something ancient stirred in anticipation.
The boundaries between worlds were thinning. And through those thinning veils, eyes from beyond were watching with keen interest.