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“How’s the situation looking?”

Princess Oliana sat astride the enormous winged tiger, Kurashi—Rank No.4 among the Seven Beasts of Calamity—her gaze fixed anxiously on the Void Mist, which had already engulfed seventy percent of the continent. Flanking her were two Demon Generals serving as escorts, but her concern was evident. Kurashi had been summoned to guarantee her escape, should things go awry. Still, in the face of this phenomenon, even a divine beast was little more than a source of psychological comfort. Beside her sat Archduke Christoff, riding with a grave expression.

Riding nearby on the twin-bodied Kirin—Rank No.5 of the Calamity Beasts—were Revan and Asmina. Both wore stern expressions as they observed the churning perimeter of the Void Mist.

Technically, none of them should have been here. Their orders had been to remain in the Sky Garden. But the moment they learned Tengai had descended for an unknown operation, they couldn’t sit idle. They had insisted on coming along.

The Demon Generals exchanged uneasy glances, unable to offer a definitive answer to the princess’ question.

Amid the silence, a girl of about ten shifted awkwardly atop a white tapir. Dressed in a vibrant kimono, her long black hair cascading down her back, she seemed out of place among the adults. She was Hazumi, the “Mirror Beyond Cloud,” and ranked No.8 among the Seven Beasts of Calamity. Her mount, the white tapir Mutsu—also known as Bai Ze—held Rank No.6.

Hazumi nervously toyed with the mirror cube in her hands. Her bashfulness was well-known, but without a word, mirrors began expanding all around them—perfect square panels that shimmered like windows suspended in the air.

“What is this…?”

The mirrors displayed a real-time view of the current situation. They revealed the Demon Generals maintaining a tight perimeter around the Void Mist, beastkin tribes working tirelessly to evacuate civilians, and adventurers like Joey aiding refugees however they could. Even the Empire’s prized magic ship, Beluga, was visible, packed to maximum capacity as it sailed away from the continent. Watching it, Christoff clenched his fist and silently cheered, Go, Beluga!

“So… the Void Mist stopped expanding the moment Her Majesty entered it three days ago. No further activity has been detected. This pause has been a blessing…it’s given us time to evacuate more people.”

“I hope Her Majesty is safe…”

“There’s no way to confirm that, but based on our analysts’ readings, the Mist’s stability suggests she’s still alive.”

“It makes sense. But knowing she’s inside, fighting for our sake, while we wait here doing nothing…it doesn’t sit right. Is there any way I can help?”

Revan nodded firmly in agreement.

“…Hey, so like, the Mist is super still right now, right? But what if this is, you know, the calm before the storm? Like it’s winding up real tight and then—boom! Total chaos. Just kidding. Tehee☆”

The uneasy sense of optimism everyone had been clinging to wavered under the carefree remarks of a woman in a white toga. With her fresh, blooming beauty and the warmth she radiated, one might’ve mistaken her for a literal goddess of flowers.

“…” Everyone silently agreed to ignore her and turned their attention back to Hazumi’s mirror projection.

The toga-wearing woman was Izumi, known as “Fey,” one of the Thirteen Demon Generals. Even among the celestial beauties of the Sky Garden, her looks were unparalleled, like a masterpiece hand-carved by the gods. Unfortunately, behind that divine face was an unmatched level of airheadedness. Truly, beauty was her one consistent trait.

“Ahem. Say, dearest Brother Revan, don’t you think that riding together on Lord Kirin makes us practically husband and wife? Fated lovers, perhaps?”

“In your dreams.”

Asmina remained true to form, detached from the gravity of the situation and happily lost in her own delusions.

“Oh, look. Lord Tengai and the others are gathering above the Void Mist. I wonder what they’re planning?”

“Wait—hey! Did you just ignore everything I said? You’re seriously just changing the subject?!”

“Seems Susa has identified a weak point in the Mist. Maybe they’re preparing for a full-scale strike there.” Oliana, ignoring Izumi’s flustered protest, focused on the unfolding scene and raised a curious brow.

Hazumi adjusted the mirror cube, bringing that particular scene to the forefront. The Four Heavenly Evil Kings, the Thirteen Demon Generals, and Sasaki—the leader of the Principality, known as the Walking Fortress—were all assembled at the very heart of the Void Mist. Beneath them stood the origin of this crisis: the Blue Divine Tower.

“Any chance this could actually work?”

“Unlikely. If I had to give a number… maybe a one-in-a-quintillion chance it even affects the Mist. And even then, who knows what that effect would be.”

Hazumi offered her explanation without judgment. She understood their desperation too well. Ever since Hiyuki had vanished into the Void Mist, the worry had never left them. No one could reasonably ask them to sit back and do nothing anymore.

“You know… what if, after all their attacks, the Void Mist just unravels and goes full big-bang on us~?” Izumi’s joke did little to lighten the mood. If anything, it struck a nerve. Everyone grimaced, unwilling to admit they’d considered that possibility too.

“I have serious doubts,” the male counterpart of the Kirin, Five Fates, muttered with a sigh, “but better safe than sorry. We can’t even properly analyze this phenomenon. It might be best to pull everyone back to the Sky Garden for now while they begin their attack.”

“They’ve begun.”

Hazumi’s quiet voice broke the tension as she observed the activity through the mirrors.

◆◇◆◇

As if to soothe my unease, the mysterious young man—who claimed to be the true Azure God—offered a gentle smile and began to explain.

“I would normally say ‘nice to meet you,’ but we’re hardly strangers. After all, I’ve been inside him since the beginning—sharing his thoughts, his consciousness. This space was originally created as a containment field. Only he and I could ever enter. No one else could interfere.”

After his explanation, the Azure God tilted his head slightly, as if checking whether I was following so far.

“Still, I have to say… that guy never did a single thing right in his life.” He nodded toward Devta’s corpse, still split open across the chest.

“As human society matured and developed culture and self-awareness, he stopped being an untouchable figure of blind worship like in primitive religions. Instead, theology codified him. He became a system-bound god, someone you could question, argue with, even bargain with. Eventually, that drove him into isolation. Then again, he had always been a shallow coward.”

“He was a god until people saw through the act. He dreaded the day his mask would slip, exposing his true self to the world. The moment he realized his creations dreamed bigger than he ever dared, it broke him. So he created an idealized version of himself. A proxy. A stand-in Azure God to handle everything he didn’t want to face. We’ve all wished for a clone to take our exams or go to work, haven’t we? He just made it real. Pathetic. There wasn’t a single redeeming trait in him.”

Azure God visibly shuddered, like the memory alone was repulsive.

“I get what you’re saying. But how did a clone like you suddenly take over the role completely?”

As if waiting for that exact question, Azure God smiled. I still didn’t feel anything for him, but that smile made my heart skip a beat.

“At first, I was nothing more than a program meant to sync with his memories. But somewhere along the way, I developed my own sense of self. After that, it turned into a tug-of-war for control within his subconscious. You know how dissociative identity disorder works, right? One core personality holds the main experience, while others are compartmentalized off to the side. That was us.”

“I was never supposed to override him. As an artificial construct inside a fully formed mind, that should’ve been impossible. But his psyche was like glass. One nudge and it cracked. There wasn’t even a struggle. If failure had a face, it would’ve looked just like him.”

He ended with a shrug, though his answer only left me with more questions.

“Fine, let’s say you did take over. But wasn’t Devta the one with the Creation God authority? How is this space still running without him?”

“Oh, that. Remember how he said Sefer Yetzirah doesn’t care about individualism? It only needs the form to be consistent. So I can use the authority just fine. But two people can’t hold the same key at once. It’s like logging into your account—only one device can be connected at a time. That’s why I made sure the main personality stepped down first.”

Then, in an instant, all traces of friendliness vanished. Azure God’s presence shifted, sharp and predatory, like a beast zeroing in on its target.

“And now, the final lesson. That part about beating me to escape? It was a lie. You were never meant to win. I was designed to prevent anyone from crossing that line. Come to think of it, maybe I was created for this very moment. Who knows? It’s like arguing whether the chicken or the egg came first. A paradox, right? Now then, how about we rewrite a little history?”