The room was dim, illuminated only by the faint flicker of a broken lantern swaying from the cracked ceiling above. Dust danced in the stagnant air, and the scent of decay clung to the walls—yet within the skeletal remains of this crumbling ruin, there was life.
Four people occupied the space—two men and two women, all appearing to be around Kuro and Arthur's age.
"Hey Lilia, tend to their wounds," the scared man said softly.
A shy girl with tangled black hair stepped forward. Her hands trembled slightly as she bowed. "H-Hello… I'm Lilia. Nice to meet you," she stammered, her voice soft as a whisper. "Please… rest here," she added, gesturing to a makeshift table draped in an old cloth.
Kuro glanced at Arthur, who was barely conscious, gasping for breath and drenched in sweat.
"Take him first," Kuro muttered.
Arthur nodded and slowly approached the table. He pulled off his shirt, revealing a body sculpted by battle—each muscle precise, sacred, and worn by hardship.
"Ah, Boss, is he going to join us?" the other girl chimed in playfully, her eyes roaming with curiosity. "Wow, he's built like a divine statue."
"Please… wait, Sira," Lilia whispered, a pink hue blooming on her cheeks.
"Tch, you just want him for yourself, don't you?" Sira teased with a huff, stepping aside with an exaggerated sigh.
Lilia raised her hand and gently traced a glowing cross over Arthur's wounded side. A soft green light emanated from the mark, and in seconds, it closed as if time had rewound itself.
Arthur sat up, his silver hair catching the lantern's dying glow. "Thank you," he said calmly, his voice firm but kind.
Kuro narrowed his eyes. Something was... off, whenever someone used an ability, their eyes glowed with a distinct colour—yet Lilia's didn't. Her eyes remained completely normal. He tucked the thought away and stepped forward to lie on the table.
Lilia repeated the process. The moment her cross shimmered with green light, the pain in Kuro's shoulder dulled. The wound closed, but a lingering soreness remained. He rolled his shoulder, wincing.
"Ugh… it still hurts."
Suddenly, arms wrapped around him. Artoria in her child form clung to him, her eyes glistening with tears.
"You didn't have to protect me," she whispered, voice trembling.
Kuro smiled faintly and patted her head. "I'm fine. Don't cry."
"Please be cautious," Lilia murmured, avoiding eye contact. "My Gift only heals external wounds instantly. Internal damage will take more time to mend."
"Thank you," Kuro said, bowing in gratitude.
But as he looked up, he felt it—hostility. The others stared at him, their eyes filled with unspoken resentment.
One of the boys finally broke the silence, his voice cold and pointed. "Boss… why did you bring him?"
"All the others insisted they wouldn't come if he was left behind," the scarred man replied, clearly referring to Kuro.
Arthur, sensing the tension, spoke up. "We're grateful you saved us… but may I ask why you did? And I'm Arthur, by the way. Could we know your names?"
The man nodded. "Very well. I'm Rulet. The girl who healed you is Lilia. The brown-haired one is Sira. And those two are John and Erik."
"I didn't save you out of mercy," Rulet continued. "It was a coincidence. I just wanted to help the people."
"Nothing is a Coincidence, it all happens because something triggered it" Arthur said softly, leaning on a wall, "Vice chairman used to say that"
Dian sat quietly in the corner, his small frame curled up tightly, his face buried in his knees. He had seen too much—more than a child ever should. Artoria sat beside him, wrapping her arms gently around his shoulders, comforting him like an older sister. Dian's soft sobs echoed in the silence.
Kuro finally spoke. "May I ask something?"
Everyone turned to him. The air shifted. He could feel their resentment tightening around his throat, The air tensed.
"Calm down, everyone," Rulet intervened, raising his hand. "He isn't a full God yet. He hasn't done anything wrong."
Kuro exhaled slowly, relieved. "I noticed something… when most Gifted use their powers, their eyes glow. But Lilia's eyes didn't."
"Sorry, but we're not answering that," John replied with a smirk.
Kuro didn't argue. Deep down, he already knew. He let the moment pass.
Silence fell over the ruined shelter.
Kuro walked to a shadowed corner and slumped against the wall, staring into the dust-filled gloom.
Arthur's voice eventually broke the quiet. "How did you get that scar?" he asked, looking at Rulet.
Rulet touched the jagged mark that cut from his brow to his chin. "It's a brand," he said bitterly. "I once fought Varnok. I lost. And that bastard Vallis marked me with this... a reminder that I was a failure."
Kuro and Arthur's eyes widened.
"You fought Varnok?" Kuro asked, stunned.
"We were there," Sira interjected. "We saw it with our own eyes. Our boss really did stand against that monster."
But Kuro wasn't listening anymore. He'd withdrawn again, back into his thoughts. His mind spun with the questions that had haunted him since the beginning.
Who is the Supreme One?
How can anyone grant powers that defy the very laws of nature?
What kind of being could create Gods?
And then it struck him—all at once. His eyes widened. He rose to his feet as fury overtook him.
"That's it," he muttered, voice trembling. "It's his fault. The Withering Trees. These cursed abilities…"
His breathing quickened. Rage twisted his features.
"It's his fault my mother died. That I lost my youth in a prison. That I'm here—in a world I never asked to enter. These eyes… this pain… it's all because of him."
Arthur straightened; eyes narrowed. "Kuro… are you alright? What are you saying—"
But Kuro turned to him, eyes cold with resolve. "Three days," he said quietly. "In three days, we'll uncover the truth."
Far away, in a realm cloaked in shadows, a shadowed figure sat upon a throne. Shrouded in darkness, lips curled into a slow, cold smile.
"Come to me," he whispered.
"The unknown God."