The pain was quiet. A searing heat crawled up from deep within his chest. The sensation of his bones melting from the inside. He couldn't breathe. His heart felt like it was being crushed by something that wasn't his own. At the edge of his vision, white light burst. The underground ruins of the Vastia airspace. The cold air of the stone chamber left behind by the Astrals clung to his skin. Characters carved thousands of years ago lined the walls, and the smell of corroded metal stung his nose. Belial knelt on the ground and looked down at his own chest. Beneath the jet-black high-collared long coat, something pulsed. A black crystalline mass the size of a fist—the core of Proto Bahamut. A relic forbidden by the Astral Relic Control Ordinance. A weapon with no true compatible wielder, one that simply caused anyone who absorbed it to collapse from within. He had embedded it into his own chest. Black fissures radiated across the skin of his torso. The pain only grew worse. And yet, a strange tranquility floated at the corners of Belial's mouth. A twisted smile, mingling sorrow and relief. The core of Proto Bahamut eroded his body with every use. Someday, his body would no longer be able to endure it, and he would vanish. That was fine. That was what he had wished for. Belial slowly closed his eyes. Behind his eyelids, his golden pupils searched for Lucifer's form. Six hundred years. The days he had served that person surfaced and faded within the pain. —I should have vanished alongside him. ――― Through a crack in the ruin's outer wall, twilight light streamed in. The same Vastia airspace. How much time had passed since that day he had embedded the core? Belial stood before a colossal creature. The Primal Beast Zwei. Its massive flying form, with a wingspan exceeding that of a single airship, lay prostrate on the cold stone floor of the ruins. Primal Beasts. Gigantic creatures created by the Astrals. Beings that should, by all rights, be integrated into the ecosystems of the floating islands and live docilely under the management of the Primarchs. But this one was different. At Belial's chest, the core of Proto Bahamut emitted a vermilion light. Spatial decomposition—a forbidden power that dismantled a target's material structure at the molecular level. A power that normally produced nothing but destruction, which Belial now deployed in a thin membrane. He interfered with Zwei's nerve core, rewriting it. Seizing control. The massive body trembled. "[cold]Go." A single word. That was enough. Zwei spread its wings and soared into the sky through the ruin's broken canopy. The command was etched into it: head for the Rimward border route. This wasn't violence. Belial placed a hand, clad in a jet-black leather glove, against his chest. Beneath his clothes, the black fissures from the core's erosion crawled toward his left shoulder. The halo at the back of his head had once been pure white. Now its outer edge was cracked, transformed into a reddish black. Testing the surveillance network of the Four Primarchs. Amplifying the distortions in the sky's laws. And accelerating the collapse until the Primarchs could no longer intervene. Not immediate destruction. Despair, delivered in stages. That was the method Belial had chosen. ――― Dawn in the Central airspace. A floor near the top of the Tower of Carius. This was a sector reserved for the Primarchs, a place no human was permitted to enter. Gabriel, one of the Four Primarchs, quietly opened her eyes. Her long, pale silver-blue hair swayed faintly at the middle of her back. The hair, like the surface of water, shimmered in seven colors under the morning light. Behind her head was a halo with a texture resembling crystal. Her eyes, a deep azure like the ocean's depths, stared into the void. Something was wrong. "[serious]...This fluctuation." She walked to the center of the Primarchs' floor and touched the resonance panel of the Sky Crystal Core. The role of the Four Primarchs was the localized management of the sky's laws. Presiding over fire, water, wind, and earth, they maintained the stability of the floating islands as assistants to the Supreme Primarch, Sandalphon. The sky's laws. That was the collective term for this world's physical laws and order. The buoyancy of the Sky Crystal Cores, the weather, the cycle of life—everything was supported by the sky's laws and managed by the Supreme Primarch. However, since the Supreme Primarch Lucifer had vanished three years ago in a mutual kill with the Fallen Primarch Folia D'Uve, minute distortions had continued to accumulate in the sky's laws. This anomaly was exploiting those distortions. A faint frequency disturbance originating from the direction of the Vastia airspace. Traces of artificial interference. Its nature was different from a typical Primal Beast rampage. Gabriel's white fingers stopped on the resonance panel. (Someone is deliberately spreading the distortion.) A sharp pain tightened around her heart. Three years ago, on the day Lord Lucifer vanished—Gabriel knew that Belial, who had been his adjutant, had also disappeared from the sky at the same time. What he had been thinking, where he had gone. She had been wondering about it all this time. "[whispers]It can't be..." She started to speak the name, then stopped. She had no certainty. But a bad feeling crossed her chest. Gabriel let her long, aqua-colored hair flow down her back and turned on her heel. She should conduct the investigation alone. First, she had to inform the administrator of the Tower of Carius. A complex shadow deepened in her azure eyes. ――― The outer edge of the Rimward airspace was notorious for its poor security. Primal Beast sightings were frequent, and air pirate incidents numbered over twenty a year. That was precisely why escort requests were standard for this route. The airship of the Grandcypher crew sailed through the morning light. They were en route to the Central airspace, having accepted a cargo escort request. Gran stood on the deck, feeling the wind. His short orange hair bounced somewhat carelessly. The hair, shining in the sunlight, seemed like his vitality itself. His burning reddish-brown eyes gazed straight into the sky. A young man in his early twenties. He possessed a rare power to connect people and beings from birth, though he himself was not yet fully aware of its full scope. "[gentle]Sieg, the wind's strong today." Siegfried, standing beside him, gave a wry smile. "[sarcastic]You always say the wind is strong." "But it really is—" His words cut off. The sky tore open. A massive shadow covered the airship. A violent gale. Wood splinters from the deck blew away. Something flashed at the corner of his vision, and in the next moment—impact. The Primal Beast Zwei had swooped down. "[scared]Damn it!" Siegfried lost his balance and nearly fell from the deck. Gran instinctively reached out and grabbed his arm. But the momentum slammed Gran himself against the wall instead. A sharp pain shot through his back. Siegfried landed on the deck, but he grimaced, clutching his right arm. It was broken. "[angry]Everyone, battle stations!" He drew his sword. Zwei's massive body circled again and charged toward the airship. This was no ordinary Primal Beast. Its movements were too coordinated. Not driven by instinct, but as if commanded by something— Gran slashed his sword across Zwei's abdomen. He felt the impact. But it didn't flinch. (Is someone controlling this thing?) It was an impossible notion. But he couldn't think of any other explanation. "Push the Sky Crystal engine output to the limit!" The engine screamed. The airship accelerated, escaping Zwei's range. The giant beast did not pursue. As if it had no intention of chasing them far from the very beginning. Kneeling on the deck, Gran looked up at the clear sky. Zwei's shadow disappeared into the clouds. "[whispers]Those movements... that wasn't a normal rampage." The pain in his back throbbed, spreading slowly. ――― Evening. The Garden of Ash was silent. A small cluster of ruins floating at the eastern edge of the Central airspace. A place that had once been a training ground for the Primarchs during Lucifer's era. Now, its Sky Crystal Core was half-destroyed, and the entire island was slowly losing altitude. On the crumbling stone walls of the training facility, the crest of the Primarchs from Lucifer's time remained. Belial stood before it and took a white feather from inside his cloak. Lucifer's feather. The sole relic left behind when Supreme Primarch Lucifer vanished in a mutual kill with the Fallen Primarch Folia D'Uve. It held no power. It was simply white, gleaming faintly in the light. For six years, Belial had never let this feather leave his possession. He cupped it in both hands. The feather was cold, light. That person's warmth was nowhere to be found anymore. Six hundred years—the time he had served Lucifer surfaced behind his eyelids. The moment Lucifer had vanished, Belial had been left behind. He should have vanished with him, but he couldn't. That was what he could not forgive. His hatred for the current Supreme Primarch, Sandalphon, was not anger at an impostor. The current world itself was a deception. The sky Lucifer had loved no longer existed. The sky's laws that Sandalphon had inherited were a fake, far removed from that person's will. If that was the case, then a world like this— Belial slowly opened his eyes. His golden pupils stared into the evening sky, which was beginning to stain vermilion. "[cold]This sky is a lie." His voice was quiet. It carried neither anger nor sorrow. Only resolve clung to it. "[serious]I'll return it all." The core of Proto Bahamut pulsed in his chest. The erosion was progressing; it was only a matter of time before his body crumbled. But that was fine. Destroying the world was not the goal. To reclaim the true sky's laws that Lucifer had loved—that was the atonement Belial had chosen. A twisted gift, in exchange for his own annihilation. In the sky above the ruins, a single streak of vermilion distortion, different from the twilight, began to race far into the distance. The sky was beginning its preparations to weep.