Perspective of those behind the “screen” (1)
The art I commissioned is ready, but I’ll post it in the next chapter because it’ll match the final scene better. It would’ve fit both the previous chapter (excluding the OMAKE) and the next one, but since it wasn’t ready before, I’ll save it for later.
As always, if you'd like to read 3/7/13 chapters ahead, or simply support me, you can do so on my (P)(A)(T). If not, thank you all so much for reading regardless—it truly means a lot to me!
With that said, have a great night, and enjoy the chapter!
(P)(A)(T)/CalleumArtori.
[...]---[...]
POV: Third person.
It was night in Tingen.
Klein had already changed clothes and was lying down to sleep.
Today marked exactly two weeks since he had arrived in that world, and the day had been exhausting. The second Tarot Club gathering had required a considerable amount of mental effort to maintain the facade of The Fool.
Fors helped me a lot today… Maybe I should pay her for being my “stage” assistant… He couldn’t help but mock himself inwardly.
The day had been packed. After the Tarot Club meeting, he had also gone to the Divination Club, where he met Mr. Glacis, who spoke about the possible Beyonder Lawson Darkwade, who owned a small shop at 18 Vlad Street in East Borough, called Lawson’s Popular Herbs Shop.
There had also been that failed investment he had divined about, involving Lanevus, as well as Anna’s fiancé… Joyce Meyer, who had gone through a terrible ordeal and came to him for a divination.
Then there were Miss Justice and Mr. Hanged Man, who prayed to him using the ritual Klein had given before — a success. And there was also the information Captain Dunn had passed on to him…
Klein couldn’t help but sigh.
Today was a pretty long day… I hope tomorrow is better. Even for Devas, it seems, it was quite a day.
Adjusting his pillow, Klein would normally have just gone to sleep. Tomorrow he had to go to the black market with Old Neil to buy Beyonder items.
However, as on all previous days, he took a few minutes to watch the stream, especially considering the recent events.
An invasion from another world into Earth… it really feels like one of those anime I used to watch. And in Japan, no less.
Devas is truly terrifying. The way he moved to reach the gate’s opening looked like that of a demonic hunting hound…
Running halfway across the planet in two minutes… I wonder what Sequence level I’d need to do something like that…
Klein shifted his phone, lay on his side, and placed it against the headboard.
With his head on the pillow, he stared at the viewer count: [7,536].
It was a much smaller number than usual, which was around sixteen thousand — less than half. But it made sense, since even though the world on the other side of the screen was in daylight, that only happened because the human had moved from one end of the globe to the other; otherwise, it would be night there just like it was now.
Klein reflected silently. It should be close to one in the morning; he was too lazy to check the time.
Watching the human and Jinn talk for a few minutes about how the portal worked, Klein yawned. He could more or less grasp the theory behind their words, but his day had been full, and his drowsiness didn’t help.
Thinking he’d just watch the stream for a few more minutes before sleeping, Klein moved his arm and tapped his phone, activating Hyper Reality 4D — more specifically, the Simultaneous Existence mode.
Closing his eyes, he opened them again beside the human, on Earth. He wore his usual outfit: a well-tailored formal black suit, with a dark vest and a white shirt underneath.
This was something he had been doing for about two days now — just for a few minutes and always before going to sleep.
It wasn’t his Earth. But it was still good old Earth.
Klein’s lips twitched slightly, and he couldn’t help but satirize:
It’s not my home, but it looks like my home…
I feel like a lost child in a mall, grabbing a stranger’s hand just because they’re wearing clothes similar to my mother’s…
Grumbling inwardly, Klein enjoyed the surroundings and the breeze.
He almost completely ignored the sounds of the soldiers around him and vaguely listened to the human, Jinn, and Ozma talking.
Klein only realized they were moving when he saw them heading toward the portal. With no choice — since he would be dragged along anyway due to the projection’s distance limit — he followed them, walking beside the human.
The moment they passed through the portal, Klein felt something was wrong. He didn’t know what, but something felt off.
Then time slowed down.
What? Is this something from Hyper Reality 4D? Klein thought quickly. Everything’s slow, but I can still move freely?... Time feels frozen… no, just so slow it seems frozen.
He felt like it was — as if he were watching a slow-motion recording, as if the stream didn’t want him to miss this part.
Looking around, able to move within this strangely hyper-slow time, Klein noticed that the human was also moving.
Even with his extremely accelerated perception, Klein saw that the human was still moving!
And not slowly — it was like a normal person moving. Klein’s eyes widened as he imagined just how fast the human must actually be moving at that moment to appear normal while everything else was slowed to the point of seeming frozen.
Klein watched as the Shadow Puppet emerged from the human’s shadow and grabbed Jinn and Ozma, throwing them backward, out of the strange tunnel they were in.
He saw the human switch his cane for the Teardrop Cleaver and slash upward. He saw the Moon Shield appear in his hand. He saw the Demon Slayer Mark form on the human’s forehead.
He saw the massive purple hand appear above him.
Klein felt his entire being crushed, as if existence itself were flattening him from 3D into 2D. He felt himself being compressed until he vanished and died.
The sensation lasted only an infinitesimal fraction of time before disappearing.
[Hyper Reality 4D partially severed the connection with the surrounding world!]
As a safety mechanism, Hyper Reality 4D removed the sensations Klein should have been feeling from being beside the human and “present” there.
He was still there, but only as a visual observer, no longer feeling the environment like before.
Even so, it was enough: Klein felt death seize him.
He brought a hand to his chest, gasping, his gaze slightly unfocused.
I died… if I had really been here, I would have turned to dust without even knowing what killed me, let alone being able to react…
Klein had no doubt in his heart about who — or what — owned that hand.
That… was the hand of a god…
Klein felt cold sweat drench his back. He was utterly terrified. Just like that, out of nowhere, a god had appeared?!
Terrifying… You really can die at any second, in every possible way…
Klein stared at the human, who somehow faced that hand that would have destroyed him. He saw how he resisted it long enough to open a door beneath his feet and escape.
He saw how he made that hand bleed.
Then, along with the human, Klein was dragged into the darkness, thrown far away from that planet that reminded him so much of his homeland — even if, in truth, it wasn’t.
[...]
For the first time in her life, Gabriela Fraser de Vasconcelos felt hatred toward a being she knew almost nothing about. She didn’t know its appearance, what it was like, what it did, its story, or its motivations.
She only knew one name — and that was enough for it to be cursed in her mind.
It was night. She had stepped away from her duties at the [FOUNDATION] and returned home. She lay in bed beside her husband, who had already been asleep for nearly an hour.
She couldn’t hear her daughter in the next room, which was acoustically insulated — since she often streamed late into the night and shouted when she lost her online games — but she knew she must be awake.
Normally, Gabriela would be watching her daughter’s streams before going to sleep. She had done so to support her since she had only a few viewers, but recently her work required her to watch a different stream.
Her last two weeks had been entirely devoted to studying the Stream Calamity, undergoing mental check-ups to ensure nothing was affecting her, and writing reports.
A lot of reports.
Reports she admitted were incomplete.
Not because she was incompetent, but because she was just one person. Cataloging everything in the stream was nearly impossible in such a short time, especially with the human gaining more powers and traveling between worlds.
The human…
Gabriela had grown attached to him. In a way she hadn’t expected, but she had. She had even considered the possibility of some kind of mental interference from the stream, but none of the check-ups showed anything.
It was just her — and her emotions.
Gabriela stared at the dark ceiling of the room. Her long, disheveled golden hair fell behind her head, spreading across the pillow.
Tears slowly streamed from her light-blue eyes, staining her pale cheeks and dampening the soft white sheets.
She wore a black babydoll, made of light, delicate fabric that draped softly over her body.
Gabriela didn’t understand why she felt so sad.
She had grown attached to the human — to the silly way he acted, to his playful and random nature while trying to be serious, something anyone could see beneath the surface. She had grown attached to what she had learned of his story, to what she had seen of him over the past two weeks, to what she had watched in earlier streams, and to what he had done.
Gabriela had grown attached to the human who often acted like a little boy, despite being one of the most reliable men she had ever seen.
So when she, using Hyper Reality 4D in Share Senses mode, felt the pain the human felt — even if only for a single instant — she felt the way his flesh was torn apart, how his muscles ripped, how his bones were crushed… and finally, how his heart burst inside his chest…
Gabriela cried. Not from pain, but from genuine sorrow.
She cried in silence, shedding tears she didn’t remember shedding since the day she had nearly been raped. She cried as she watched the human plummet into a dark void that consumed all life.
She raised both hands upward, as if to catch him when he fell, almost as if she truly could, despite the impossible distance separating them.
Gabriela cried for the falling human.
For the goddess who made him fall, she smiled as gently as she could.
And in a voice so soft it might as well not have existed, she made a promise:
"I will find you..."
She knew why she felt such hatred.
Gabriela only knew there would be no place where that goddess could be kept Secure.
Gabriela had no intention to Contain the goddess.
Gabriela would kill anyone who tried to Protect the goddess.
[…]
Suzuki Satoru, as he was more commonly known these days — Ainz Ooal Gown, or as he had been called in recent days: Momon — had no need to sleep, nor to eat, yet he was still afflicted by one of humanity’s greatest plagues: boredom.
So whenever he wasn’t dealing with something serious in Nazarick or solving some problem caused by his NPCs — who often mistook the random words he muttered while watching the human for some grand and intricate plan — he was, in fact, watching the human’s stream.
It had been about two months since Nazarick had arrived in that new world. Many things had happened and, from what Ainz knew of the “canon,” many things had changed as well.
He had sent Sebas to the capital of the Re-Estize Kingdom earlier than expected. He had made several changes and, remembering what the “him” of the story had done — or failed to do — he felt a certain sense of embarrassment.
I really am different from “him” in the story… he thought silently. I’ve kept far more of my humanity… If nothing else, before anything, I should thank Devas when I meet him in person…
Ainz knew he would do everything again if necessary, without even flinching at the deaths, but now he knew there were better paths to take, more options.
On that particular night, they were in the city of E-Rantel, more specifically within the inner limits of the great cemetery. Momon and Narberal were in the middle of a mission to deal with the massive horde of undead plaguing the area.
Just as he had saved the Swords of Darkness from their deaths, he would handle this problem as well.
Not out of kindness or because it was “the right thing.” No matter how much more human he had become compared to the “him” of the story, Ainz was still Ainz. He sought the profit that came from it — in this case, the recognition of the persona “Momon.”
A cold mist blanketed the ground, and ancient tombstones stretched through the darkness around them. The night sky was stained with clouds.
They had advanced deep inside, distancing themselves from the city guard and ordinary adventurers under the pretext of focusing on the center of the disturbance before the final confrontation.
Seated atop the base of a large stone mausoleum, Ainz — known to the other adventurers as Momon — maintained a straight posture, his head facing forward as if standing watch.
Narberal Gamma, known to everyone around her except Ainz as Nabe, stood with him.
Both were silent, as was the night around them, save for the occasional sound of bones clattering or a distant undead dragging itself along.
Ainz’s voice broke the silence, emerging from beneath the helmet of his massive armor: "Narberal Gamma."
Just by being called by her full, real name, Narberal immediately went on alert.
Ainz continued:
"Tell me, do you think you would survive a complete surprise strike from an Underworld Goddess, say, imbued with the very essence of the underworld itself?"
As he spoke, Ainz kept his gaze fixed on the mist, as if he could see something beyond what Narberal could perceive.
Caught off guard by the question, she couldn’t help but think:
Is a Goddess about to attack us? How did I fail to sense anything around the cemetery?!
I can’t detect anything like that even within hundreds of meters…
Ainz-sama managed to detect her through this mist? As expected of him...
Before she could cast her magic and enter a state of alert for the “attack” to come, Ainz placed a hand on her shoulder.
"Sit. It’s already over. Answer me: would you, or any of the others in Nazarick, survive?"
Narberal relaxed physically, but her mind grew even more confused.
Already… over?
Ainz-sama neutralized the Goddess before she could even attack? Was it because of me? Would he have allowed her to strike just to test my capabilities if I had said I could survive?
Was I too slow to answer and failed Ainz-sama’s test before it could even begin?!
Reprimanding herself inwardly for her incompetence, Narberal quickly formulated an appropriate response.
In YGGDRASIL, “gods” usually referred to entities of the highest caliber, typically level 100 beings or even beyond, such as World Enemies or raid bosses that required the combined effort of dozens of level 100 players to defeat.
"Ainz-sama," Narberal replied, her voice controlled.
"If it is an entity comparable to the World Enemies the Supreme Beings once hunted, I, as a Pleiades, would certainly perish from a single direct strike. My defenses and HP would not be sufficient to withstand an instant-death effect or massive damage of that magnitude. As for the Floor Guardians..."
She paused briefly, calculating her superiors’ statistics based on her knowledge.
"Albedo-sama or Shalltear-sama possess the highest defenses in Nazarick, along with abilities and items capable of nullifying a fatal blow or allowing resurrection. They might survive the initial strike, but would certainly suffer critical damage if the attack bypasses basic immunities."
She paused once more before concluding with conviction:
"However, I am absolutely certain that the Supreme Ainz-sama would emerge unscathed from such a contemptible assault."
Ainz almost sighed inwardly beneath his helmet.
I would die instantly. If I could prepare, it would be different, but caught off guard by something like that…
He had no illusions.
Having watched the human be crushed by that massive hand, Ainz had already run the calculations in his mind.
Hardy’s strike carried a conceptual weight of destruction that would most likely bypass the conventional resistance mechanics Ainz was familiar with.
However, even taking into account that his resistances might work, he still wasn’t so sure he would survive that palm.
Even with his resistance to negative energy and instant-death effects, along with immunity to poison, disease, and several other conditions that would normally be fatal to living beings — such as having one’s organs reduced to nothing or one’s heart exploding — it was still far too absurd…
The sheer physical force alone was already beyond anything he was used to handling without preparation. His build had never been focused on defense, whether physical or magical. And even with damage reduction, physical resistance, magical resistance, and effect mitigation, there was still raw impact left — compressed into a single point.
Ainz felt himself being crushed alongside the human the moment the palm appeared.
It wasn’t just as if “a mountain had been thrown at him,” but as if “a mountain had been compressed and fired like a missile directly into his entire body.”
And the worst part was that it wasn’t just physical force. If it were, he could, in a way, endure it long enough to heal.
But within that palm, Ainz could feel a divine authority with enough weight to push all of his defenses to their limits at once, like a massive debuff.
The goddess’s hand, beyond its divinity, carried the very essence of the underworld, and no matter how powerful he was, Ainz was still undead…
"I see," Ainz replied, maintaining a grave, impassive tone. "It was merely a passing thought. As I said, it’s already over. Continue watching the surroundings."
"Understood, Ainz-sama," Narberal nodded. “Your greatness is truly without equal.”
Ignoring the random praise of unclear origin, Ainz turned his gaze back to the foggy darkness of the cemetery.
At the same time, his vision was fixed on the scene of the human falling into the darkness. Using Hyper Reality 4D, Ainz was both there and falling alongside the human.
He could also feel the “void” around them.
It reminded him somewhat of the very essence of the ultimate death magic, “The Goal of All Life is Death,” where all existence seemed to lose meaning before a single, inevitable concept: death — absolute and unavoidable — swallowing everything without exception.
Staring at the human who, somehow, was still alive even while surrounded by that life-ending mist, Ainz’s emotions surfaced.
He felt admiration — for the way the human clung to life with everything he had, for having survived something Ainz himself knew he wouldn’t have survived, and above all, for his instinct to protect his allies before himself, even under a surprise attack.
He felt unease, as he wasn’t sure whether the human would be able to survive, given his condition, his injuries, and the debuffs afflicting him.
If the human were to die, not only would he lose someone who, over time and through his actions, he had begun to consider a friend and ally, but he would also lose one of — if not the only — hopes he had of ever reuniting with his former guildmates.
Running through his memories, Ainz recalled several items that could save the human.
However, he knew that, due to how YGGDRASIL items functioned, sending them through the Stream to the human’s side would likely do more harm than good.
The differences between realities were far too unstable.
A healing item could very well turn into poison. Even a divine healing item from YGGDRASIL could have its nature distorted, making its use even more dangerous…
In the end, of all the emotions, Ainz felt fear — fear and pity.
Fear of the way the orange color in the human’s eye seemed, somehow, more dangerous than the goddess’s palm strike and all the surrounding darkness.
And pity for the goddess herself.
The anger I feel toward her for nearly killing an ally and taking away my only chance to reunite with my guildmates is insignificant compared to the pity I feel.
Pity that, out of all the choices she made in her life, they led her precisely down that path.
Like a long chain of quests that, in the end, resulted in the worst possible ending.
Ainz watched as the human disappeared, his vision distorting and then reappearing beside him once more, now plummeting like a meteor toward a strange world with a great golden tree.
I pity her… because no matter how, I know you’ll survive, Devas…
Ainz reflected on something he had been thinking about for quite some time.
And no matter how much he thought about it, the conclusion was always the same:
Out of all creatures, truly, I cannot think of one more terrifying than you to have as an enemy...
[…]
At the edge of a cliff, in a certain mansion in Malibu, Tony Stark was in his lab, working late into the night.
The space was vast, illuminated by the artificial glow of dozens of holographic displays and glass panels.
Unfinished metal parts of advanced armor and prototypes rested on workbenches or lay scattered across the floor, mixed with precision tools and cables, while the constant hum of servers filled the room.
This was routine for him — especially after the stream. Working while watching and listening to the human had become one of his favorite hobbies over the past few months.
Normally, he’d be dropping comments here and there in the stream, chatting with the audience and the human. But for the past one — maybe two — minutes, the man known as Iron Man had been completely silent.
His face was tense, his muscles rigid like a statue as he watched the human — his friend, one of the few he had — fall like a literal orange comet toward a planet.
His vision was split: on one side, he existed in his lab; on the other, he was also falling alongside the human, thanks to Hyper Reality 4D, at a speed where everything around them was nothing but a blur.
The sensation of falling barely affected him.
His mind was still replaying the recent events, and the feeling of being crushed lingered like a phantom within him.
"Jarvis, calculate the descent speed," he ordered, not taking his eyes off it.
Jarvis, also present — though bodiless — wasted no time and delivered the result instantly:
“Estimated velocity: Mach 83. Approximately 28.5 kilometers per second.”
An impossible speed for a normal person to survive — much less the impact… Tony’s mind raced. But not him. He won’t die from this...
I know he won’t… Damn it, DS…
He clenched his fingers until they turned white as the human collided with the ground.
The explosion from the impact was clearly smaller than it should have been; Tony knew this instinctively, but didn’t focus on it.
The “avatar” created by Hyper Reality 4D was unharmed — which was not the case for the one who looked more like a corpse than a person at the center of the crater.
For a fleeting instant, Tony assumed the worst.
Then the human started laughing.
A strangely captivating and contagious laugh, and Tony couldn’t help but laugh along. He couldn’t help but laugh at the absurdity of the situation. At the madness contained in that laughter.
He looked up at the ceiling above, almost as if he could see the sky.
I think I finally understand—
[Hyper Reality 4D prevented corruption from "Echo Humanitatis"!]
His thoughts were cut off. Tony blinked, breathing heavily as he realized what had just happened.
I… was almost corrupted by DS’s presence just like that?... How?... Just from watching?…
Tony’s gaze shifted to the human’s right eye. There wasn’t a single color there that wasn’t orange. There was no sclera, iris, or pupil.
Everything was human.
Something seemed to stare back.
A chill ran down Stark’s spine.
“How… insignificant…”
The human’s voice sounded like a wet, viscous murmur, yet the words were understood perfectly.
Tony felt offended by the remark, which almost seemed directed straight at him. It wasn’t — he knew that. It was directed from the human to himself.
Even so, it felt like it was meant for him. For something inside him — the same something that had been getting corrupted moments before.
The strong gust of wind snapped him out of it. Looking up, he couldn’t help but curse:
"A fucking dragon..."
He turned to face the human once more.
Not even he knew what he intended to do. Bankrupt his company — and maybe take the country down with it — just to donate SP that might help the human? Send thousands of messages in the hope of getting some kind of response?
There weren’t many options.
Stark didn’t need to take any of them.
“Of all creatures that breathe and move upon the earth… nothing is created weaker than man.”
The human’s voice echoed again, just as cracked, broken, and mangled as before. The proud words struck Stark in the same place as before.
Then, completely shattered, missing an arm, Stark watched as the human — who, for all intents and purposes, should have been dead — grabbed the ground with his one remaining hand and rose like a demon crawling out of hell.
“Anyone would run from a dragon… especially in that condition,” Stark muttered to himself, staring silently at that orange eye.
Then he heard the innocent question, coming from the lips of the orange-eyed human:
“Tell me…”
“… Do you wish to witness just how fragile humanity is?”
The dragon’s roar sounded like nothing more than the angry hiss of a cat to his ears.
“Not you, of course…”
Letting out a genuine, relieved laugh, Stark then shouted:
“Jarvis, initiate Project Orange! Send everything to the main system — models, data, everything! We’re fast-tracking this now!”
He didn’t have time to waste.
“If he — him — got jumped by a goddess out of nowhere and nearly died, if one of those so much as looks at me, I’m done.”
Tony started moving in his real body, his hands flying across the keyboard.
The next moment, Jarvis’s voice echoed through the speakers again, sounding more human than Stark remembered it being a week ago:
“Project Orange initiated, Mr. Stark. I must remind you that the name ‘Orange’ is provisional. Would you like to change it now that it has been initialized?”
Stark didn’t need to think before answering:
“Rename it to Divine Entity Vanguard Adaptive Suppression.”
The smile on his face was that of a completely unhinged scientist.
On the computer screen, the name of the project appeared — the armor he would create to withstand even the power of a god:
[Project: D.E.V.A.S.]
[...]
Rin Tohsaka was at home, lying in bed, ready to sleep for nearly half an hour now.
Her long black hair was still damp from her bath, spread across the white silk pillow and leaving faint traces of moisture along the shoulders of her red camisole.
Her body rested against soft cream-colored sheets, the tone highlighting the contrast of her skin and clothing.
She wore a light, short set of pajamas: the thin-strapped top left her collarbones and arms completely exposed, the hem reaching her hips and riding up slightly to reveal her waist.
The knit shorts, comfortable, ended at the upper thighs, leaving her legs fully in contact with the sheets as she relaxed.
The room itself was a blend of normalcy and mysticism: catalytic gemstones, grimoires, and magical instruments carefully arranged on a dark mahogany desk, illuminated only by the faint night light coming through the window and the glow of her phone.
However, her plans to sleep had been completely ruined by the adrenaline coursing through her body.
Adrenaline that didn’t come solely from the fact that her body was still in a survival state after feeling herself being “crushed” by the hand of a goddess and falling from the sky in a way no skydiver in history ever had.
But also from what she was witnessing just a few meters away, with her own eyes.
Lying in bed and watching the stream, she was using Hyper Reality 4D in Simultaneous Existence mode.
Share Senses was something she only used occasionally, when she wanted to study how the human’s mana worked or when she wished to feel, even briefly, a power capable of destroying a city with a single punch.
A dragon… even if the wings are on its forelimbs — which would classify it as a drake or a wyvern — this is, without a doubt, a dragon…
I’m looking at a real dragon…
She could feel the creature’s mana — the way the magic inside that thing burned like a living core. She could feel the raw power emanating from every breath the beast took.
She turned, staring at the human standing there, barely alive.
And… he’s going to face it… like that?... In that state?… That’s impossible...
Rin knew the human was strong — more than strong — but that was when he was whole. Not injured, not missing an arm, not with shattered bones and organs, not… without a heart...
The beast’s roar tore through the night.
The sonic shockwave came down like a hammer, making the muddy water explode even through the projection of Hyper Reality 4D.
Rin blinked, instinctively tensing, her ears ringing for a moment. It took her a bit to recover and focus again on what was happening.
The human didn’t seem affected by the sound the way she was, but Rin noticed:
His hair is turning gray… His skin is cracking — it looks like sand…
On the other side, the dragon’s mouth glowed with a dense, golden fire. The blast shot toward the human.
Rin held her breath.
He can’t run. He can barely stay standing…
And yet, the fire didn’t hit him.
A mechanism emerged from his stump, firing a line that latched onto a distant tree, pulling him out of the fire’s path at the last instant.
He hit the ground and rolled through the mud, coughing up blood and internal fragments.
Rin felt her stomach twist. At the same time that she was worried, she wanted to curse at him.
It makes no sense for you to still be alive! Just run and hide from that thing with that cane or that nightmare energy and go heal!
She wanted to shout, but held herself back. It wouldn’t help.
Still kneeling, the human made the Moon Shield appear on his arm, which sent a shiver through Rin. The sight of that shield — or the Teardrop Cleaver — disgusted her on a deep level.
The large mouth carved into the foreign flesh then opened and, to further deepen Rin’s disbelief, bit into space itself.
The disbelief didn’t come from a “mystic construct” biting into space, but from the direction the human moved after that: toward the dragon.
His body was launched meters forward, dragging Rin along due to the proximity limit.
Passing beneath the beast’s belly, the human drew a blade glowing with dark purple light and slashed at the dragon’s right leg.
Rin knew her strongest magic wouldn’t even scratch those scales. She was certain that even her late father’s magic wouldn’t be able to chip them.
Boiling red blood sprayed into the water.
He’s nearly dead, not even breathing to activate Sun Breathing, unable to use mana — in fact, unable to use any of his energies — without a heart and forcing himself to stay alive…
And yet, he just tore through a dragon’s leg like it was a chicken’s… With a single swing of his injured arm…
She shouldn’t have been this surprised — Rin knew that. She had already seen him fight 'The Eye' during the Blood Moon, Salem in Remnant, and the Deerclops in Winterhord.
But in all those cases, the human had been at his peak.
What shocked her was how, even on the brink of death, he still seemed so dangerous. His presence dominated the entire battlefield as if he were in perfect condition.
The only comparison Rin could think of — in terms of power and presence, something capable of inflicting that kind of damage on a dragon — were the Servants she had seen during the Fourth Holy Grail War, back in her childhood.
And that only made the situation even more absurd to her.
Because she was watching a battle worthy of a Servant — a legendary hero.
A dragon was nothing more than the opponent of a legendary hero.
But the one facing it was nothing more than a dying human — someone Rin had seen rolling on the ground, barely able to lean on the sword he held, unable to remain standing after a single blow…
… And yet, deep in her heart, she already knew how that battle would end.
As Rin watched the dragon open its mouth a second time for another blast, she failed to notice the five messages from the stream, which had been censored from her view:
[Hyper Reality 4D prevented corruption from "Echo Humanitatis"!]
[Detection by Alaya: traces of "Echo Humanitatis" leaking through the viewer "[TohsakaHeiress] (Rin Tohsaka)"!]
[Detection by Gaia: traces of "Echo Humanitatis" leaking through the viewer "[TohsakaHeiress] (Rin Tohsaka)"!]
[Interference from Alaya: the subconscious of humanity, blocked!]
[Interference from Gaia: the will of the planet, blocked!]
[...]
Ruby Rose wasn’t okay.
The whole day had been great, up until the small scare she got when the human went racing across the planet on a hunt. But even that had been kind of cool, not bad.
As the hours passed and everyone was getting ready for bed, she went out to train.
Just something quick to burn off the rest of her energy, work up a sweat, and then take a shower before sleeping. She went alone, since none of her teammates from Team “RWBY,” nor the new member, “N,” Neo, wanted to come.
Blake was reading some kind of obscenity Ruby had once tried to sneak a look at and hadn’t liked — Blake’s tastes and fetishes were way too weird for her.
Weiss was taking her extra-long nightly bath, where she just lay in the tub and floated like a corpse for nearly an hour.
Her sister, Yang, was finishing drying her hair while watching the human’s stream and having a quick late-night snack.
As for Neo, she wasn’t in the dorm that night; she had left shortly before Ruby went to train, going to visit Roman.
So Ruby Rose was alone.
Ruby Rose wasn’t okay.
Beacon’s training room was wide, with reinforced pale metal walls and flooring, marked by scratches from past combat sessions.
The space was empty and silent beneath the white ceiling lights. Ruby wore her usual outfit: the black dress with red trim, the dark corset at her waist, and her unmistakable red cloak draped over her shoulders.
Her scythe, Crescent Rose, lay forgotten at her side on the floor, while Ruby sat on the cold metal, watching the human — nearly dead, in the worst, most injured state she had ever seen him — fight a dragon.
In any other situation, she would have loved watching it; an epic battle she knew the human would win… but this time, she wasn’t so sure.
She had been using Hyper Reality 4D in Share Senses mode when the human was first attacked.
She felt his bones crack like biscuits. She felt his flesh tear like cloth. She felt his muscles be ripped apart like an old rat in a cat’s claws. She felt his organs collapse.
She felt his heart explode in his chest.
It was the most horrible sensation Ruby had ever felt, the most dreadful pain she had ever witnessed. Even if it lasted only an instant, even if it didn’t affect her physically thanks to the stream’s protection, she still felt miserable.
Because she knew the human had truly felt that pain.
He was feeling it. And still fighting.
“Please… don’t die… don’t die, don’t die…” she murmured weakly, unable to move.
She watched alone, without the strength to run back to the dorm and merge the others’ Hyper Reality 4Ds into a single connection. She begged and prayed to nothing — not even she knew what — for the human not to die.
Pearl-like tears streamed from her silver eyes, tracing lines down her pale skin and staining her clothes.
Ruby Rose wasn’t okay.
She watched, seated both on the training arena floor and within the human’s perspective, the fight unfold.
Her vision was blurred, both by her own tears and by the blindness afflicting the human. She saw flames rising within a scaled throat.
Everything around was silent — it was late in the training area. The human’s ears were almost completely deaf.
She could feel the metal floor beneath her hands and body. And she could barely feel the water on the human’s body.
Ruby knew the black hand of the Bone Helm appeared beside “her” head; she saw the Ice Blade swing and freeze the creature’s throat, stopping the fire.
Ruby felt "herself" stand as the human took a step forward, even though her physical body remained seated. She felt the femur in "her" left leg snap like a fragile branch, despite being stronger than the toughest steel in Remnant.
She tasted mud and blood when "she" fell. She felt the exhaustion, how "her" entire body just wanted to stop and die. She felt tears running from two silver eyes.
She was almost hyperventilating, but "her" lungs were torn.
She saw flames rise again — there was no time. She didn’t know how to react, didn’t know what to think.
The human did.
Even in that state… Ruby knew: your mind still worked like an unbreakable, unrelenting war machine...
Ruby felt the Blood Thorn resonate with the beast’s blood, crystallize it, and make it scream to the heavens in a torrent of fire that lit up the night.
With the flames came heat; with the heat, dark clouds; with the dark clouds, rain.
Ruby Rose hated the rain.
The dragon took flight.
Ruby let out a quiet laugh, a sad, wet sound.
“I know you’ll live… You’re the best, you always win…” she tried to convince herself. “But why… why do you always get hurt so badly…? And no one ever helps… No one ever helps you…”
She felt the human’s body protesting as it rose.
Rose forced herself to stand. If he could, then she could too. She had to stand, even if she couldn’t.
She walked over to Crescent Rose, grabbed the scythe’s handle, and went back to training. She would train, fight against nothing — maybe that way she could convince herself she was helping the human in his own battle.
Ruby felt the rain fall on "her" face.
Even though there was a roof above her head.
“Why is it always raining…?”
[...]---[...]
What a fucking miserable ending.
Honestly, I considered not writing Ruby’s part and just leaving it as “I know this happened, but I don’t need to show it,” but that wouldn’t really make sense. Devas is completely fucked — of course people are going to react in different ways, especially with panic, fear at his condition, and sadness/despair.
There were a few characters who could’ve fit here, but I decided on Ruby because she, along with Percy, Ísis, Alalia and Dylan, sees Devas as a genuine, true hero.
Others, like Saya, the rest of HOTD, Stark, Harry, the other members of Team RWBY, and others in the (CHAT), have a different view of Devas. To them, he can still be — and is — someone heroic, but being heroic is different from being a “hero”...
That’s why she ended up being the choice here. Percy will have a role in the next chapter.
It’s rough. Good thing the mental trauma doesn’t stick, since the stream protects against that to a certain extent — otherwise it would be borderline brainwashing, which, let’s be honest, it might already be.
She’ll get better, trust me — I’ll reward her in some way.
I actually felt a bit bad writing this part.
As for why it’s in third-person POV, it’s because I’m practicing my writing this way. The story is still Devas’s POV, and there will be other first-person POVs — this is just for now.
Good night, everyone, and enjoy the read!