"What the hell do you mean by claimed six years from now?"
Xion's voice was quiet.
Too quiet.
The kind of quiet that made the air in the compartment tighten.
Sean did not answer immediately.
The train thundered onward, iron wheels hammering against the rails with a steady, merciless rhythm.
Clack.
Clack.
Clack.
Venus kept one hand on the grimoire in her lap. The cracked halo at the bottom of the final page continued to bleed black ink, spreading slowly through the parchment like a wound refusing to close.
Xion's eyes remained fixed on Sean.
The boy's expression had not changed much, but Venus knew him well enough to see the difference.
His face was calm.
His gaze was not.
"What does that mean?" Xion asked again. "You said the False God Pathway wasn't supposed to awaken for another six years. Why?"
Venus glanced at Sean.
"Sean… should we tell him?"
Sean's jaw tightened.
"No."
Venus frowned.
"He has already awakened it."
"That does not mean he is ready to understand everything surrounding it."
Xion's eyes narrowed.
"Funny. I thought being the person with the cursed forbidden Pathway gave me at least some right to know what the hell is going on."
Sean looked back at him.
"It is not time."
Xion gave him a flat stare.
Sean continued, his voice controlled.
"The False God Pathway is not like the Twelve Divine Pathways. Even speaking too deeply about it can strengthen its resonance. The more attention given to it, the more definition it gains. The more definition it gains, the more your Authority Core may respond."
Venus lowered her gaze.
"And if his Authority Core responds before his mind stabilizes…"
Sean did not finish the sentence.
He did not need to.
Xion understood enough.
"You're saying information itself can make my power stronger."
Sean nodded.
"Or more unstable."
The compartment went silent again.
The grimoire trembled faintly on Venus's lap.
Xion leaned back, folding his arms.
"So your plan is to keep me ignorant."
"My plan," Sean replied, "is to keep you alive."
"How generous."
Venus sighed and gently closed the grimoire. The bleeding symbol vanished beneath the cover, but the pressure it left behind lingered like smoke after extinguished flame.
"Let's change the subject," she said.
Xion slowly turned toward her.
Venus forced a smile.
"How about learning about the Northern Kingdom? Or rather, its proper name, the Astra Kingdom."
Xion stared at her.
The smile did not move him.
"Venus."
"Yes?"
"I love you like family, but that was the worst subject change I've ever heard."
Her smile cracked.
Sean pinched the bridge of his nose.
"I agree with him."
Venus shot him a glare.
"You were the one who said not to tell him."
"I did not say distract him with geography."
Xion closed his eyes and leaned his head against the seat.
This was useless.
Sean would not tell him.
Venus wanted to, but would not betray Sean's warning.
The grimoire had only revealed six pages.
The Cathedral knew more than it was willing to say.
The Characters of Fate had predicted his Pathway six years too late.
And the thing inside him was apparently dangerous enough that even knowledge could become fuel.
Wonderful.
Fantastic.
Lovely little theological landmine.
Xion let out a long breath.
Too bad I don't have a guide for this kind of situation.
The thought had barely finished forming when a soft voice answered.
Did you call for us, Creator?
Xion's eyes snapped open.
He immediately looked around the compartment.
Venus tilted her head.
"Xion?"
Sean's hand moved slightly toward the sword resting beside his seat.
Xion did not answer either of them.
Something floated in the air before him.
A tiny baby-blue circle hovered near his face, no larger than the tip of his index finger. It gave off no ordinary mana signature. No blue. No green. No red. No gold.
It existed outside his mana sense entirely.
Like a hole punched through reality and colored with gentle light.
Xion stared at it.
His expression remained blank, but his thoughts sharpened.
That voice…
Innocent.
Soft.
Gentle.
Almost childish.
But carrying something ancient beneath it.
'Yang Numina?'
The circle pulsed.
It is, dear Creator. How did you know?
Xion narrowed his eyes.
'Your voice has innocence in it. Yin Numina sounds more like a tomboy who would kick a door open instead of knocking.'
A faint laugh chimed through his mind.
That is a fair description.
Venus stared at Xion.
"Who are you talking to?"
Xion did not answer.
The baby-blue circle drifted closer, stopping within reach.
Touch the gate, Creator. The outside conversation can wait. Your mind is already asking questions your body cannot safely contain.
Xion looked at Sean and Venus.
To them, perhaps only a second would pass.
Or perhaps they would notice everything.
He had no way of knowing.
Still, every instinct in his body told him the circle belonged to the same hidden system that had pulled him into this world.
The same impossible machinery behind his Pathway.
The same mystery buried beneath the Genesis Crystal.
Xion lifted one finger and pressed the circle.
The world folded.
The compartment vanished.
Sound disappeared first.
Then light.
Then gravity.
For one brief instant, Xion felt himself falling upward through a place where seconds had no direction.
Then his feet touched solid ground.
He stood in an unfamiliar realm filled with red.
Not simple red.
Deep crimson.
Dark scarlet.
Rust.
Blood.
Ember.
The sky above him looked like burning glass. The ground beneath his feet resembled polished stone veined with golden lines, each one pulsing faintly like the nervous system of a sleeping god.
Ahead of him stood an enormous painting.
No.
Not a painting.
A mural so vast it filled the horizon.
A red dragon devoured the world.
Its jaws closed around mountains. Its claws pierced oceans. Its wings stretched across the sky like a second firmament. Its scales were crimson-black, each one carrying strange symbols Xion could not fully read.
Yet the dragon's tail did not destroy everything.
It curled protectively around a human girl.
The girl stood beneath the dragon's shadow, one hand touching its talon, her expression calm despite the apocalypse surrounding her.
Xion stared up at it.
"What is this place?"
A small figure appeared beside him.
Yang Numina.
She looked young, almost childlike, with long hair that covered much of her face. Her presence was soft, but the realm itself seemed to treat her as something sacred.
"This is a dimension outside the mortal plane," she said. "A territory formed beyond the ordinary limits of the Fifth Dimension."
Xion slowly turned toward her.
"In short?"
"The False God Territory."
The name settled over him like a crown made of chains.
Xion looked back at the mural.
"The False God has a territory?"
Yang Numina nodded.
"All Pathways possess an inner structure. Divine Pathways have Thrones. Beast Pathways have Origins. The False God Pathway has Territories."
"Plural?"
"Yes."
"That is concerning."
"It should be."
Yang Numina stepped forward. The red realm pulsed gently around her.
"This place is not fully awakened. At your current Array, you can only enter through assistance. Your Authority Core has not yet stabilized enough to open the gate on its own."
Xion glanced down at his hands.
"So this is connected to Clock?"
"Indirectly. Clock is your first Array Authority. It allows you to perceive intervals, contradictions, timing, and the hesitation between possibility and outcome. But this realm is tied to something deeper than your current Authority."
"The Pathway itself."
"Yes."
Yang Numina looked at him with curiosity.
"Despite your body being young, your mind continues to keep pace with the information of this world. That is fascinating."
Xion gave her a deadpan stare.
"I'm glad my mental suffering is scientifically interesting."
"It is."
"Don't say that like it's a compliment."
Yang Numina tilted her head.
"Was it not?"
Xion sighed.
Then his expression settled.
"I need your help."
"That is why I answered."
"I want to understand this world better. Ever since I consumed the Genesis Crystal, things have been changing. Events that should not happen are happening. The False God Pathway awakened six years earlier than fate predicted. The War of Liberation exists when it shouldn't. And…"
He paused.
Yang Numina waited.
Xion's voice lowered.
"I keep seeing a dragon eye in mirrors."
Yang Numina's body jolted.
It was small.
Almost unnoticeable.
But Xion caught it.
Her fingers curled against her dress.
Her head lowered slightly, her bangs hiding her expression.
The air changed.
The red realm darkened.
Far in the distance, the mural's dragon seemed to shift.
Xion's eyes narrowed.
"So that means something."
Yang Numina's voice became quieter.
"Did you see him?"
Xion's posture stiffened.
"Him?"
"Did he speak to you?"
"What the hell are you talking about?"
"Did the eye answer you?"
Xion's voice sharpened.
"No. I saw an eye. That's it."
Yang Numina remained still for several seconds.
Then she exhaled.
"Good."
Xion stared at her.
"Good?"
She lifted her head, though her eyes remained mostly hidden beneath her bangs.
"Then there is nothing to worry about."
Xion's expression became dangerously blank.
"That is exactly what someone says when there is definitely something to worry about."
Yang Numina smiled faintly.
"Perhaps."
"Do not 'perhaps' me."
"It is not time."
Xion's eyebrow twitched.
"I am getting tired of that phrase."
"I know."
"Then stop using it."
"I cannot."
Xion rubbed his temples.
Everyone knew something.
Sean knew something.
Venus knew something.
Yang Numina knew something.
Even the damn mirrors knew something.
And all of them had apparently joined an international conspiracy called "Annoy Xion Until He Develops Trust Issues."
Too late.
He already had those.
Yang Numina clapped her hands once.
"Ahem. Anyway, what knowledge do you seek from us?"
Xion stared at her.
"You changed the topic very quickly."
"I did."
"At least admit it."
"I just did."
He gave her an uneasy grin.
"You are far more suspicious than your voice makes you sound."
"Thank you."
"That wasn't praise."
"I will accept it anyway."
Xion sighed again, but this time he let the matter go.
For now.
"I want to know about the Trinity Family's origin."
Yang Numina's expression softened.
The red realm around them shifted.
The golden veins beneath the floor rose into the air, unraveling into threads of light. The mural dissolved, and the world changed.
Xion found himself standing on a battlefield.
The sky was black with smoke.
Blood soaked the earth.
Broken weapons littered the ground like the shed teeth of a dead civilization. Corpses stretched across the field in every direction, some human, some monstrous, some too distorted to identify.
The smell hit him next.
Iron.
Ash.
Rot.
Rain.
His throat tightened.
"This is…"
"The Second Era," Yang Transcender said. "Known to later generations as the Trinity Conquest."
Xion looked ahead.
Among the corpses stood one figure wrapped in a black cloak.
Blood splattered the fabric.
Not just from enemies.
From battle.
From sacrifice.
From survival.
The figure lowered their hood.
A woman stood there.
Long hair stained with dirt and blood. Eyes calm despite the battlefield around her. Her face carried no joy, no arrogance, no madness.
Only exhaustion.
And resolve.
Xion knew before Yang said her name.
"Aura."
Yang Numina nodded.
"Aura Trinity. The First Trinity. The child of the False God. The Giver of Divinity. The Mother of Ascension."
Xion watched as Aura walked through the battlefield.
She did not celebrate victory.
She knelt beside the wounded.
She closed the eyes of the dead.
She touched the ground, and black mist rose from the corpses, gathering into her palm.
"What is she doing?" Xion asked.
"Consuming flaws."
The black mist twisted violently, as if filled with screams.
Yang Numina continued.
"Before the modern Pathway system existed, the world was unstable. The Astral Realm, now known as the Astra Continent, was a land where order and chaos constantly devoured each other. Monsters were born from contradictions. Curses grew from broken laws. Divine fragments fell into mortal hands without structure. Beast Origins manifested without vessels."
Xion watched Aura absorb the black mist.
Her face tightened with pain, but she did not stop.
"Aura possessed an ability called Gift."
The word appeared in the air as a glowing symbol.
<< Gift >>
"It allowed her to grant fragments of authority to others."
Xion's eyes sharpened.
"So she created the Twelve Gods?"
"She did not create them as gods. She chose twelve mortals and gave them the possibility of divinity. What they became afterward was the result of their own choices, their compatibility, and the authority they cultivated."
The battlefield shifted.
Xion saw Aura standing before twelve wounded humans.
Not gods.
Not kings.
Not legends.
Just people.
A sailor with storm-gray eyes.
A dying priestess holding sunlight in her hands.
A blind scholar surrounded by golden threads.
A warrior leaning on a broken spear.
A gardener clutching a seed.
A ruler with no crown.
A judge whose hands shook.
Others stood among them, each carrying pain, fear, and something stubborn enough to survive the end of an age.
Aura raised her hand.
Twelve lights emerged from her palm.
Each entered one of the mortals.
The sky trembled.
Yang Numina spoke softly.
"Those twelve would eventually become the foundation of the Divine Pathways. Tyrant. Abyss. Solar. Fateweaver. Dreamwalker. Lunar. Genesis. Verdant. Conqueror. Bastion. Arbiter. Imperator."
Xion watched the twelve lights burn brighter.
"And Aura?"
"She remained outside the Twelve."
"Because she belonged to the False God Pathway."
"Yes."
The scene shifted again.
Aura stood before an enormous red dragon.
The dragon lowered its talon.
Aura took one knee and placed her hand against it.
The beast's eye opened.
For a moment, Xion could not breathe.
That eye.
The same pressure.
The same shape.
The same terrible familiarity as the thing he had glimpsed in mirrors.
His fingers twitched.
Yang Numina noticed, but said nothing.
Xion stared at Aura.
"She doesn't look like what I expected."
"What did you expect?"
"Bloodlust. Devouring. Insanity. Something closer to the stories about the Trinity Family."
Yang Numina shook her head.
"That came later."
The scene around them warmed.
Aura smiled.
Not at the dragon.
At the people behind her.
Children.
Survivors.
Villagers.
Soldiers.
Former enemies.
All standing under her protection.
"This was before the third generation of the Trinity Family became known as Devourers," Yang said. "Aura was not born to destroy the world. She was a guardian. She consumed the flaws of the world so peace could exist."
Xion fell silent.
A guardian.
That word did not match what history said about the Trinity Family.
It did not match the terror in Sean's eyes.
It did not match the Cathedral's hatred.
It did not match the title Devourer.
The sky suddenly split.
Six lights descended.
They appeared above the battlefield, radiant and terrible, draped in authority so dense the world seemed to bow under them.
Xion looked up.
"Who are they?"
Yang Numina's voice turned cold.
"The reason for your curse."
Xion slowly turned toward her.
"Curse?"
The world changed again.
The battlefield vanished.
Now they stood in a ruined garden beneath a gray sky.
Rain fell silently.
Aura knelt in the mud, holding a man in her arms.
His body was pale.
His chest no longer moved.
Aura's hands trembled as she clutched him close.
For the first time, Xion saw her break.
No grand speech.
No divine wrath.
No roar at the heavens.
Only tears.
Quiet.
Human.
Devastating.
Yang Numina stood beside Xion, her voice barely above a whisper.
"This was the day Aura lost the man she loved."
Xion watched Aura press her forehead against the dead man's.
"What happened?"
"The six beings who descended feared what Aura could become. They feared the False God Pathway. They feared Gift. They feared a bloodline capable of granting authority outside their control."
Xion's eyes darkened.
"So they cursed her."
"Yes."
Rain passed through Xion's body like mist.
"The curse was called the Soul of Misfortune."
Xion's breath caught.
"Wait… the Curse of Misfortune?"
Yang nodded.
"A curse designed to twist every blessing into tragedy. Every love into loss. Every victory into consequence. Every attempt at peace into a seed for future calamity."
Aura screamed.
The sound did not reach Xion's ears.
But he felt it in his ribs.
Yang continued.
"It did not simply follow Aura. It entered her bloodline. Generation after generation, it shaped the Trinity Family's fate. The more they tried to protect, the more the world feared them. The more they consumed corruption, the more others called them monsters. The more they used their authority, the more they became what history accused them of being."
Xion stared at Aura.
The first Trinity.
The Mother of Ascension.
The woman who gave humanity the road to divinity.
Crying alone in the rain.
"And that's what turned them into Devourers?"
"It began the path."
Yang looked upward.
"By the third generation, the curse had warped the family's relationship with the False God Pathway. Their authority over contradiction and devouring intensified. They no longer consumed only the flaws of the world. Some began consuming authority itself."
"Divine authority."
"Yes."
Xion understood.
That was why the gods feared them.
That was why the Cathedral erased their history.
That was why Sean looked at him as if he were a crack in fate.
The Trinity Family did not simply possess a forbidden Pathway.
They possessed a bloodline that could threaten the divine order itself.
The rain stopped.
The ruined garden dissolved.
Xion found himself standing in a white room.
A void.
No sound existed there.
Not footsteps.
Not breath.
Not heartbeat.
The silence was absolute.
Xion turned slowly.
"Where are we?"
Yang Numina did not answer.
She was looking behind herself.
Far away, through layers of white mist, stood a shadowy figure.
It was tall.
Wrongly shaped.
Surrounded by dark fog that seemed to carry sorrow itself.
Its eyes were round and magenta, glowing softly from within the haze.
It stared directly at Yang.
Then at Xion.
For the first time, Yang Numina looked genuinely afraid.
She turned back to him quickly and placed a small hand against his cheek.
"This is all the information I can give you for now."
Xion grabbed her wrist.
"Wait. What is that?"
Her expression softened.
"Until next time, Creator."
"Yang."
The white room cracked.
The shadow's magenta eyes widened.
Then everything snapped.
Sound returned violently.
Clack.
Clack.
Clack.
Xion opened his eyes.
He was back in the train compartment.
Venus leaned toward him, concern written across her face.
"Xion?"
Sean watched him carefully from the opposite seat.
The grimoire remained closed on Venus's lap.
To them, only a moment seemed to have passed.
Xion slowly inhaled.
His chest felt tight.
His mind was full of rain, blood, dragons, twelve lights, six descending beings, and Aura crying over the body of the man she loved.
"Are you okay?" Venus asked.
Xion turned his head toward her.
For a second, he did not see the Heroine of Peace.
He saw a girl from Blackband Orphanage.
A child who had survived.
A sister who had scars hidden beneath makeup and mana.
Then he nodded.
"Yeah."
His voice was quieter than usual.
"I'm fine."
Sean did not believe him.
Venus did not either.
Xion looked down at his hand.
It was steady.
Barely.
"I should worry about my bloodline later."
Sean's eyes narrowed.
Something had changed.
It was subtle, but unmistakable.
Before, Xion had looked confused and guarded.
Now there was sorrow in his eyes.
Not the shallow kind born from hearing a sad story.
This was older.
Heavier.
The look of someone who had been handed a fragment of history and found blood still wet on it.
Sean decided not to press.
Not yet.
"Then we should catch you up on why we need you," Sean said.
Xion looked at him.
"The war."
"Yes."
Sean folded his hands together.
"If you are going to become involved, it is better that you understand the situation now rather than later."
Xion rested his head against his palm.
"Go ahead."
Sean took a breath.
"The Southern Kingdom was once one of Astra's longest-standing allies. Since the Fourth Era of Revolution, our nations maintained treaties of trade, military support, religious exchange, and border cooperation."
Venus looked toward the window.
The countryside rolled past in long green stretches beneath a pale sky.
"For centuries," Sean continued, "there was no reason to suspect them of preparing open conflict."
Xion listened silently.
"Then reports began arriving from the southern territories. Missing villagers. Children sold to private households. Prisoners disappearing after tax disputes. Border towns emptied overnight. At first, the Southern Kingdom denied everything."
"They always do," Xion muttered.
Sean glanced at him, then continued.
"The truth became impossible to ignore after the Captain of the Royal Guard was assassinated."
Venus's expression darkened.
"He was not merely killed."
Sean's voice became colder.
"He was hanged before the gates of our own embassy."
Xion's eyes sharpened.
"A message."
"Yes."
"A public one."
Sean nodded.
"A letter was pinned to his chest. It was addressed directly to the King of Astra."
Xion leaned back slightly.
"What did it say?"
Sean hesitated.
Then answered.
"It declared war."
The train compartment fell silent again.
Xion blinked twice.
A war declaration through the corpse of a Royal Guard captain.
A slave trade expanding in the south.
Southern spies already operating in Blackband.
A Divine Candidate of the False God Pathway awakening six years early.
Something was wrong.
Deeply wrong.
Xion's mind began arranging the pieces.
Why start a war that way?
Why provoke Astra openly?
Why expand slavery now?
Why target Blackband?
Why chase me this quickly?
He closed his eyes.
The story he knew was unraveling.
But not randomly.
There was design in the chaos.
A hand behind the curtain.
The Astral Continent housed several Divine Candidates in this era.
If his memory still held value, then the Southern Kingdom was tied to the Tyrant Pathway through the Candidate of the Storm God.
The Northern Kingdom, Elorial, housed him and Venus.
False God.
Fateweaver.
Or perhaps, as the Cathedral called Venus, the Sage Candidate, blessed through wisdom and causality beneath the Oracle God's Portfolio.
The western territories were connected to the Astral Pathway and the Star God.
The eastern territories carried old ties to the powers of life and death, Verdant and Abyss.
Five divine powers scattered across one continent.
Five sparks waiting to become thrones.
And now war had arrived.
Xion opened his eyes.
"What does the Southern Kingdom gain from war?"
Sean paused.
"Territory. Resources. Political leverage."
"No."
Sean frowned.
Xion's gaze remained fixed on the window.
"That's what they gain if this is a normal war. But this doesn't feel normal."
Venus watched him closely.
Xion continued.
"They killed the Captain of the Royal Guard and displayed his body with a declaration. That's not strategy. That's provocation. They wanted Astra angry."
Sean's expression shifted.
Xion tapped his finger against his knee in rhythm with the train wheels.
"They expanded slave trading and tax enslavement knowing it would eventually leak. That gives Astra moral justification to intervene. They let spies follow us from the docks to the station, but the pursuit was sloppy enough to be noticed."
Venus's eyes widened slightly.
"You think they wanted us to know?"
"I think someone wants certain people moving."
Sean leaned forward.
"Certain people?"
Xion glanced at the closed grimoire.
"Candidates."
The word landed heavily.
Outside, the train entered a tunnel.
Darkness swallowed the compartment.
For a few seconds, only their reflections remained in the glass.
Venus.
Sean.
Xion.
And behind Xion's fleeting reflection, in the briefest moment, a piercing red dragon eye opened fiercely in the engulfing darkness.
Xion did not flinch.
He stared back at it.
Then the train burst from the tunnel into daylight.
The eye vanished.
Sean had not noticed.
Venus might have.
Her hand tightened on the grimoire.
Xion looked back at Sean.
"Tell me honestly. How many Divine Candidates are involved in this war?"
Sean did not answer quickly enough.
That was answer enough.
Xion smiled faintly.
"There it is."
Venus looked at Sean.
"He needs to know."
Sean closed his eyes.
Then, reluctantly, he nodded.
"Officially, none."
Xion's smile thinned.
"And unofficially?"
Sean opened his eyes.
"The Southern Kingdom is believed to have secured the Candidate of the Tyrant Pathway."
"The Storm God's successor," Xion said.
Sean's eyes sharpened.
"You know that?"
"I know enough."
Venus leaned forward.
"Xion… what did you see?"
He did not answer.
Not fully.
"History."
Venus's breath caught.
Sean stared at him.
Xion looked down at the pendant against his chest.
Blue and white chains.
Red prism.
The captured ember glowed faintly.
"If the Southern Kingdom has the Tyrant Candidate, and Astra has me and Venus, then this war isn't just about slavery or territory."
Sean's silence confirmed it.
Xion continued.
"It's about gathering or eliminating Divine Candidates before they mature."
The compartment grew colder.
Venus whispered, "That would mean…"
"The War of Liberation might be a cover," Xion said. "A religious war hiding inside a political one."
Sean's face became grim.
"That possibility has been discussed."
"By the Cathedral?"
"Yes."
"And they still brought me in?"
"We were ordered to."
Xion laughed softly.
There was no humor in it.
"Of course."
The train continued racing across the countryside.
Clack.
Clack.
Clack.
Xion turned back to the window.
The world outside looked peaceful.
Fields.
Trees.
Sky.
A continent pretending not to hear the knife being drawn beneath its ribs.
His thoughts returned to Aura.
To the six beings descending from the sky.
To the curse that twisted every blessing into disaster.
Soul of Misfortune.
A curse that made attempts at peace become seeds of calamity.
A curse that followed the Trinity Family.
A curse that might now be following him.
He touched the pendant again.
If the story had changed, who changed it?
Was it me?
The Genesis Crystal?
The False God Pathway?
The thing with the dragon eye?
Or something else?
Far away, thunder rolled across a clear sky.
Sean looked toward the window.
Venus slowly opened the grimoire again.
Xion closed his eyes.
The ticking inside his chest grew louder.
Clock was not warning him of an assassin this time.
It was warning him of momentum.
Events were moving.
Faster than fate had recorded.
Faster than the Cathedral understood.
Faster than Xion was ready for.
And somewhere in the hidden machinery of the world, something had reached six years into the future and dragged the False God Candidate into the present.
Xion's lips curled into a faint, tired smile.
"So," he murmured, too quietly for either of them to hear clearly.
"The script is burning."
The train sped onward toward Elorial.
And behind the glass, in the reflection no one else could see, a red dragon watched him with one enormous eye.