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Project GB is an official initiative by Re:Library.

It was only after extensive testing that we reached this conclusion. Whether it was the proton explosion of Living Bomb Musashi or the synchronized attack of our three strongest titans—Tengai, Ikaruga, and Izumo (which, as Susa later informed me, had a destructive power capable of obliterating a Jupiter-sized planet)—nothing could penetrate its absolute defense. Perhaps “fending off” would be a more accurate description. Regardless, it was unstoppable.

As I finished speaking, Eleanor, the representative from the Sirent Nation bordering Aeon, raised her trembling hand.

“Excuse me, Your Majesty. When you said ‘we had tried,’ could it perhaps refer to the thunderous roars, shockwaves, and that towering pillar of light we witnessed all the way from our capital yesterday?”

Ah, that’s right—this was my first time meeting Eleanor as the Sovereign. Our previous encounter had been casual, and given the circumstances back then, I’d been eager to wrap up the whole bogus hero debacle, entirely forgetting to introduce myself. This sudden invitation and reunion must have come as a complete shock to her. Her stiff, almost mechanical movements made that much clear.

On the other hand, Tengai—who liked to call himself the Prime Minister of the Imperial Crimson—was clearly displeased about allowing what he called “riff-raff” to attend the meeting alongside the leaders.

“Are you certain, Princess? Personally, I find it intolerable to envision those vulgar, foolish masses gazing upon your majestic visage and hearing your melodious voice. Were it up to me, I’d gouge out their eyes and tear off their ears on the spot. But, since it’s a time of crisis and your compassionate self has chosen to permit their presence, I’ll ensure they etch your grand image into the depths of their feeble psyches!”

Between Tengai’s antics and the gravity of the situation, the tension in the room had reached suffocating levels. The audience’s faces were as pale as corpses, though I couldn’t say if it was the pressure, the shocking news of impending world destruction, or the unnerving presence of Death Knights and Grim Reapers stationed throughout the conference room.

“Uh, well… maybe we went a little overboard. But trial and error were necessary to fully grasp the situation. So, you see, that level of… spectacle was kind of unavoidable,” I explained awkwardly.

Of course, the fact that we’d nearly destroyed the world ourselves before the Void Mist could even finish its job was another matter entirely. Best to let sleeping dogs lie.

Eleanor looked like she had more to say, but after glancing around the room—particularly at the other representatives, who hastily avoided her gaze, likely hoping to avoid being implicated—she sighed and quietly returned to her seat, swallowing her questions.

“The critical issue is what happens after this cloud—«Void Mist,» was it?—engulfs the area. Surely, it’s not just about being covered by it… I mean, it’s said to herald the end of the world,” Oliana said, her usual composed demeanor replaced by urgency.

Normally, she exuded an air of nonchalance, as if every situation were firmly under her control. Beside her stood Archduke Estrada, her guardian, and further back among the chamberlains, I caught sight of Christoff.

Perhaps noticing my gaze, Christoff gave me a small wave and a warm smile. I discreetly returned the gesture.

“—Ahem! Your Majesty, may I ask what outcome you have hypothesized?” Oliana said, clearing her throat to bring me back to the moment.

Snapping out of my distraction at Oliana’s deliberate cough, I composed myself as Mikoto stepped forward to take the lead.

“I, Mikoto, the speaker of the Imperial Crimson and the head of the Imperial Guard, will provide an answer on Her Majesty’s behalf.”

A wave of relief swept through the conference room as Mikoto—graceful and angelic, the epitome of serenity—took the stage, replacing Tengai, whose relentless, sharp aura had left everyone on edge. Frankly, while Tengai could have been considered strikingly handsome, his presence was anything but calming.

“To explain, the true nature of the cloud-like «Void Mist» appears to be a form of shield, as we’ve observed. Think of it as a type of magical barrier.”

The attendees nodded in acknowledgment, though their furrowed brows and crossed arms suggested a mix of understanding and unease.

“We believe the interior of this shield is separated from our three-dimensional space and is connected to an imaginary dimension. Even attempts to reverse time produce negative entropy values, meaning the environment within exists outside the conventional domain of past, present, and future.”

At this, the attendees’ eyebrows shot up in collective confusion, their expressions practically screaming, “Excuse me, what now?” Noticing their bewilderment, Mikoto added, “To put it simply, think of it as the difference between ‘Another World’ and ‘Netherrealm.’ ”

“So, in other words, the people consumed by the «Void Mist» are effectively dead?”

Oliana pressed her conjecture, her expression growing graver by the second.

“Since we cannot observe the conditions within, we cannot definitively determine the life or death status of those inside. To explain differently, while they may not be ‘dead’ in the traditional sense, they’re also no longer able to act as living beings. Functionally, it’s indistinguishable from death.”

I was certain that most of the explanation had gone over their heads—just like it had with me. However, Mikoto’s somber expression and grave tone made the worst-case scenario clear enough, and soon the conference room erupted into murmurs and noise.

“Is there truly no way to combat this?”

King Collard asked, his desperate gaze fixed on me as though I were his last hope. Beside him sat Chloe, his recently wed wife, her expression somber and her eyes closed as though in silent prayer.

Meeting his gaze, I carefully chose my words before speaking.

“As of now, we have no means of combating it. However, there is one small silver lining—the altitude of the «Void Mist» is fixed at 3,000 meters. This means our only feasible options are to escape to higher ground or use the Sky Garden as an ark to leave the land until the mist clears. That said, there’s a strict population cap. Priority will go to our vassal states, and the total capacity will not exceed 100,000 people.”

My firm declaration left the room silent, their faces grim and tense.

“We will assign population quotas for each nation. It will then be your responsibility to decide who among your people will be included. The Sky Garden will circle the expanding «Void Mist» for now and will move to embark the chosen individuals as soon as your lists are finalized.”

The moment I finished speaking, the representatives from each nation shot to their feet, sparking a chaotic uproar filled with questions, criticisms, and heated disputes.

Amid the uproar, Oliana remained seated, lost in thought. If one had listened closely, they might have caught the faint murmur of her soliloquy, though I failed to notice it at the time.

“A lost world… the destruction of time itself. A moment when past, present, and future blur into one… An era devoid of time’s flow… No, could it possibly be…!”

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