Into The Present

The Earth has welcomed something new—something that seems to bring answers to a world long torn apart by endless wars. Centuries of racial conflict have shattered everything, and now, hope appears to arrive in the most unexpected form.

But is it truly so? Nothing is ever that simple. Without a doubt, half a century after the birth of Crancrse, the world has not improved. On the contrary, it has plunged into a destruction even deeper than before. The Cora, who brought this disaster into the world, ensured that no living being could escape suffering. For fifty years, the world was no longer destroyed by racial wars but by something far more absolute.

The fate of this world has never changed—only the method has. It is ruled by endless conflict. Races spill each other's blood, hunt for territory, and those who should share the world instead slaughter one another for the sake of becoming the sole ruler. And the blood spilled is the price always paid for something called victory. Yet, victory never truly exists. Everyone who fights is merely waiting for their turn to be swallowed by the next battle.

The races of Earth have experienced both being allies and enemies. Like a wheel that never stops turning, they take turns rising and falling.

Akatara, who once descended from the heavens, brought light to those who were downtrodden, guiding humanity from the brink of extinction. Yet, that light turned into a blaze, and those once worshiped were eventually cast down by the envy of the very beings they saved. Once considered gods, they are now seen as demons in the eyes of the world—simply because their presence was too bright for a world already shrouded in darkness.

Humans, once trampled like dust on the ground, rose as a storm that swept everything away—only to be crushed again by the burdens they created themselves.

Ajina and Dala, once an unshakable unity, were torn apart by misunderstandings carefully crafted to keep them from ever reuniting. Deception sowed seeds of suspicion, allowing wounds to fester without ever revealing the truth. Those who once protected each other became divided, never realizing that their true enemy was not among them but rather the foreign whispers that drove them apart.

Superhumans, once weak humans who could only submit, began to walk with forbidden powers coursing through their veins. But after tasting a power they were never meant to possess, they too fell into the same cycle they despised. Once they cursed the tyrannical rulers—now they themselves became the tyrants. There is no justice in their power, only a spreading wildfire consuming everything, including themselves.

And then, Crancrse was born. Unlike wars that have a purpose, Crancrse brings only emptiness. It does not choose who should die or who should survive. It does not recognize tribe, race, or belief. All it demands is blood, and a world bloated with warfare became fertile ground for its destruction.

The world is no longer about racial conflict. There is no time for hatred, no strength for vengeance. Only the necessity to kill without hesitation remains. They must shut off their emotions and sever ties with their feelings, for those who have become Crancrse are no longer relatives, friends, lovers, or family. They are nothing but enemies who cannot die. Killing them does not bring victory—only temporary relief before reality strikes again without mercy. What remains is an endless flight, a fear that never ceases. There are no longer predators and prey, for everything alive is now hunted by something that cannot be killed. It does not matter how sharp Ajina's fangs are or how fast their reflexes, how deep Dala's roots pierce the earth or how vast their life force, how absolute the Superhumans' command over wind, fire, or stone, or how divine the wisdom and blessings flowing through the blood of the Akatara. None of it matters. Blood is still blood, and as long as it flows within them, Crancrse will remain.

Once, war stole dignity and honor. Now, Crancrse steals something far more fundamental: identity. There are no more names, no more families. Those who have fallen are no longer remembered as individuals. They merely become part of something greater—their bodies, empty shells that perpetuate this endless curse. Corpses no longer hold meaning—not because they add to the numbers of Crancrse, but because they become a burden to the living. Each fallen body adds to the pain, slows the escape, and forces the survivors to make impossible choices: abandon those they love or be dragged down with them.

Slowly, the population that can still think, still possess awareness, continues to dwindle. Meanwhile, those who have lost themselves—who have become part of the Crancrse—grow in countless numbers. There is no longer any balance. The world has turned upside down, and those who once fought to defend their lands now only run from place to place, searching for a brief moment to breathe a little longer.

Once, the world was filled with magnificent civilizations, with towering walls protecting their inhabitants and lights illuminating every corner of life. But all of that has long since vanished—swept away by a catastrophe that left nothing behind but ruins and silence. There are no longer any ruling kingdoms, no more laws to bind, no place that can be called home. What remains are small, scattered groups like dust drifting in the wind—wandering aimlessly through the wreckage, trying to survive in a world that has lost all sense of order and hope.

In the echo of a message Cora once sent to all living beings on Earth:
"Stop spilling blood and make that the solution."

It sounded so simple, so logical—yet impossible to achieve. How could they possibly survive this trial? How could they fight against these cursed beasts without shedding a single drop of blood?

Crancrse was meant to be the answer to the endless wars. But this "answer" did not bring peace—instead, it ushered in something far worse. Nothing can erase it, nothing can stop it. The only way out is something the living cannot do.

If this truly is a punishment, then is there no chance for those condemned to redeem themselves if nothing is left to save?

This disaster seems impossible to stop—yet how is it that, in our time, civilization appears to be intact? And as you know, people in this world are bold enough to hold festivals like the one last night. How did they manage to reach that point again?

It is because all the races—those who once knew both friendship and enmity, who once fought endlessly—eventually lowered their pride and united for the sake of survival, even if only for one more difficult tomorrow.

A discovery, born from the efforts of all the children of Earth, has brought us to this seemingly peaceful time. The relic that seals the Crancrse—an relic that became the final hope when the disaster seemed unstoppable—did not simply appear. It took fifty years of relentless resistance, countless sacrifices, and the willingness to set aside pride just to stay alive.

But before I explain more about this relic, there are a few facts you must first understand.

First, Superhumans still retain their unique abilities despite the extinction of the Magenta Clan, the origin of these powers. Their abilities are inherited, enduring as part of the world we know today—though the traces of their source have long faded. Even the mystery of why only the Magenta Clan could pass on these abilities remains an enigma. If these powers indeed originated from Akatara’s bloodline, other clans should have had the same potential to pass them down. Yet, the reality is different—only Magenta could do so. The underlying cause of this anomaly remains a puzzle, even to this day.

Second, up to half a century after the birth of Crancrse, the names of clans like Indigo, Blue, Violet, and even the first ancestors of Akatara themselves remained absent—shrouded in mystery until only a few years before our current era. Some have reappeared, but they offer no clues as to why they were absent in the past. Others have left only faint traces, as if their existence had been erased from the pages of history.

Third, during those times, despite the brutality of Crancrse, our population—once reduced to no more than three individuals—somehow grew to dozens. They could expand because they were no longer confined to underground prisons as they were during their dark past. Those who once hid in the shadows finally returned to the surface, though the world they emerged into was nothing like the one they had once known.

Fourth, the remaining survivors of each race did not unite immediately. It took over half a century for them to understand that there was no place for hatred if they wanted to survive. Even after realizing this, the path was not easy. Every step forward was met with betrayal, distrust, and unavoidable sacrifice. The struggle for food resources worsened the global situation. Almost the entire world had been conquered by Crancrse, leaving only a few fertile and safe places. Even as they recognized the need to cooperate, hunger gnawed at their sanity—driving them to see one another not as allies, but as threats.

Forced unity did not come from compassion—it was the primal instinct to survive. Every day brought the same ruthless questions: Who will eat, and who will be left behind?

Fifth, all kinds of animals remain unaffected by this disaster. They continue to walk on blood-soaked ground, cross the ruins, and live without worrying that their bodies will turn into monsters. This signifies one undeniable truth: only sentient beings are the target. It is as if Crancrse is a curse specifically placed upon those who think, who aspire, and who fight for something beyond mere survival. Survivors eventually began to wonder—was this a punishment meant solely for them? Was the existence of sentient beings itself a mistake that must be corrected in this way?

Sixth, even those who survive the threat of Crancrse and manage to live to old age cannot die peacefully. Their deaths do not mark an end but rather impose a new burden on the living. Whether cremated, buried, or preserved as mummies, their bodies will inevitably become Crancrse. This proves that Crancrse can even be born from blood traces that have turned to gas due to the cremation process. In the end, these individuals are buried in the same way as Crancrse—sealed within relics.

Lastly, interspecies marriage never occurs—not due to prohibition, but because of irreconcilable biological differences. A bear cannot mate with a lion, even though both are mammals. However, it is possible within closer species, like tigers and lions—similar to the relationships among the Akatara. For instance, a woman from the Orange Akatara can mate with a man from the Green Akatara. However, each woman can only pass on one bloodline randomly throughout her life. If her first child is born as a Green Akatara, every subsequent child she bears will also be a Green Akatara for the rest of her life, with no possibility of producing an Orange Akatara. This phenomenon existed even before the fall of the Akatara Dynasty.

Some of these mysteries have been uncovered, while others remain buried in the darkness of history, leaving behind unanswered questions. Yet, despite it all, one undeniable truth remains—the relic has become the last bastion for those who still breathe. It is neither a miracle offering absolute salvation nor an answer to the world’s suffering. It is merely a temporary shield—a fragile glimmer of hope amidst an unstoppable tide of destruction.

The relic was born from the survivors’ understanding of the Dala race’s unique abilities. They realized that the roots grown by the Dala possessed fibers impervious to Crancrse, leading them to persuade the Dala survivors to help create the relic’s primary material. However, trust did not come easily. It required blood and toil to convince the Dala that humans were worthy of their faith. Humans bowed before them, relinquishing their pride, proving that their intentions were not deceitful. Eventually, the Dala survivors adopted a more pragmatic stance. With their expertise, they cultivated the strongest fibers, which were then processed into the main component of the relic.

The relic takes the form of a massive mace, about the size of a beer drum. Its surface is rough, resembling ancient wood hardened over centuries, but when touched for a while, a faint pulse can be felt—evidence that this object is not merely a lifeless weapon.

Inside the mace, living roots intertwine so densely that not a single gap remains between the fibers. No empty spaces. No escape routes. Each strand of root tightly coils around the others, forming a labyrinth that not only traps but also destroys anything that enters. Therefore, captured Crancrse must be forced into a liquid state before being sealed inside. There is no more efficient method—Crancrse in gas form will escape, and in solid form, they are difficult to contain. But in liquid form, they can flow easily through the mace’s long, narrow handle. Once they pass through, the roots immediately tighten, swallowing the black liquid in an unyielding grip, ensuring the Crancrse cannot reform. They remain separated, trapped within the endless corridors of the root labyrinth.

At the opposite end of the mace’s handle, there is an irregular shape—sometimes resembling a diamond, a heart, or even a massive leaf—that serves as the only access point for the Dala. This shape is not a mere ornament but the sole gateway for those responsible for keeping the roots alive. Without a constant energy supply from the Dala, the roots will weaken, and if that happens… the previously impenetrable labyrinth will begin to crack open, allowing even the fragmented liquid forms trapped inside to find their way back to the outside world.

Yet, this relic is not an ultimate solution. It is merely a pause—a brief breath amid the nightmare. Every ten years, the relic begins to show signs of deterioration. No matter how strong the roots woven by the Dala are or how carefully they are maintained, the relic inevitably weakens, gradually losing its ability to suppress the howls and roars struggling to break free. Each fracture is not just a mark of time’s erosion—it is a reminder that this catastrophe has never truly ceased.

Maintaining control over the relic requires constant attention. The roots that form its structure cannot be left unattended, as they will weaken over time. The Dala guardians must continuously channel energy to keep the roots alive and their grip firm. Should their vigilance falter—even for a moment—the relic will begin to open. Empty spaces that did not exist before will emerge, and every Crancrse trapped within will claw for an escape. No seal lasts forever. No prison is truly eternal. Ultimately, the relic is not an absolute cage—it is only a temporary reprieve before the next disaster inevitably strikes.

This made the Turquoise Akatara, who initially faced a barrage of questions regarding time manipulation upon their emergence, play a significant role in time and take on a new responsibility: becoming the guardians of the relic when time is nearly up. As the time limit approaches, they intervene to freeze time around the relic, ensuring that the Crancrse within it does not escape before a new vessel is available.

However, the irony of this task is too evident to ignore. They are like caretakers of an immortal being, ensuring the survival of children that will ultimately kill them. No matter how many relics are used, no matter how hard they try, the fact remains the same: No Crancrse has ever truly been eradicated since the birth of that creature. They simply move from one place to another, from one relic to the next. There is no end, only an ever-repeating cycle.

Other races do not remain passive during this calamity. Survivors from the Superhuman race, with their unique abilities, act as protectors. They do not participate in creating the relic, but they protect the humans who create it from the threat of the Crancrse. Additionally, they also join in the hunt, teaming up with survivors from the Ajina race who use their instincts and physical strength to hunt and subdue these creatures before the relic can be used.

The surviving Akatara play an irreplaceable role. Orange Akatara ensures that the ever-changing form of the Crancrse can be patented into a single form, simplifying the hunt and sealing process. Green Akatara strengthens the physical condition of the warriors, becoming medics, intelligence gatherers, and supporters on the front lines, ensuring their survival in battle. Yellow Akatara acts as a bridge between the battlefield and the sanctuary, opening instant transportation routes so that injured troops can be evacuated quickly and reinforcements can immediately join the fight.

Above all, the Turquoise Akatara are the final line of defense against all failures. They cannot resurrect the fallen, but they can prevent mistakes from happening. With their ability to see one step ahead, they oversee every experiment, rebuild destroyed facilities as if they had never been damaged, and ensure that every failure is corrected before it is too late.

Each role may be different, but one thing is certain: the relic that seals the Crancrse only exists because they all finally chose to stand together. They, who once only knew how to fight and slaughter each other, finally set aside their grudges for one goal—stopping something worse than the war they had known. They stripped away their emotions and pride for the creation of that relic. One by one, they began to understand that this suffering did not belong to one race or one group, but something they all felt together.

Even so, to this day, the relic continues to be used, a silent witness to a history filled with blood and sacrifice.

If the Crancrse brings one undeniable truth, it is the fall of the pride of the children of the earth. Those who once hated and slaughtered each other finally felt the same fear, experienced the same loss, and understood that their hatred had only given the world a reason to destroy them all. Only then did they realize that their greatest enemy was not each other, but something born from their own blood.

In the unity of one century, they finally managed to reduce the population of the Crancrse, which roamed like wild animals. From an innumerable amount, only about 25% of them remained in the world. However, this victory does not mean they have truly succeeded. Most of the Crancrse were not sealed in the relic as expected but were forced to be melted down in the hunt because there was no other choice. In the midst of the chaotic battle, with no time to think, they more often destroyed the Crancrse by turning their bodies into thousands of dust particles. But that was not the end. Because every grain of dust scattered, no matter how small, was a seed for the birth of a new Crancrse. They may take years to grow again, but that only means death still lurks in silence, waiting for the opportunity to rise again. A creature that can transform into three material forms is certainly not easy to hunt and seal. Even calling it hunting seems disrespectful to the Crancrse, who often dominate the battle.

No one can deny this reality—Crancrse is a creature born from blood, and as long as blood still flows in the bodies of sentient beings, they will never truly be eradicated. Even a single drop of blood falling to the ground, no matter how small or insignificant, still holds the potential to give birth to another one of them. So how can the world be called safe? If at any time, anywhere, that creature can appear again without warning, then every breath taken is merely a delay of death that could come at any moment.

The relic has successfully become an additional breath for living beings on Earth. No matter how much the Crancrse are immortal, they must continue to live and evolve. In the fragile peace they possess, in 1550, the races of living beings on Earth established six new kingdoms and restored their civilization. This had to be done so that there would be clear command in each of the various regions of Earth regarding the hunting of the Crancrse. With the system of governance in place, the workload would be slightly lighter. These six kingdoms were different from the kingdoms of the past, which reflected the arrogance of a single race. Now, everything is equal, all races exist in every kingdom, sharing roles.

In the post-establishment of these kingdoms, the world was still plagued by various problems, and each problem became a situation that led directly to the present.

Although civilization began to be restored, many factions from each race who realized the immortality of the Crancrse felt doubtful about continuing the creation of the relic and considered it a futile effort. The relic could not be deceived, as it drained a great deal of physical energy in its creation, with the fact that the Crancrse could never be fully eradicated also draining their spiritual energy.

Some factions from various races who were pessimistic chose to distance themselves from the Middle World, seeking fortune in other layers of the world. Certainly, the Outer World was considered a viable option, as they thought that facing the giant creatures there would yield better results than having to deal with the Crancrse, whose eradication was uncertain. They crossed continents and oceans, hoping to find a place far from the threat of the Crancrse. Sometimes, the Inner World was also considered for exploration, but not a single one ever returned from that layer of the world. This opened a new mystery: Did the disappearance of the groups that went there mean they found a new life and didn’t want to share their comfort with others, or was there a danger that had wiped out their existence?

The actions of a handful of pessimists have altered the fate of the world. From these actions, the Outer World, which had never interfered with the Middle World, began to show its presence on a massive scale. The giant creatures from the Outer World, who had been hiding in distant continents and oceans, started entering the borders of the Middle World, putting the creatures of the Middle World under immense pressure. From any perspective, their gamble was a foolish one. Now their situation was once again dire. The race that was rumored to have led the idea of escaping to the Outer World were the Superhumans, who used ordinary humans as an excuse. They felt pity for the ordinary humans who were treated like slaves during those times, bearing an incredibly heavy workload. They chose to escape to fight an enemy that could be killed.

Of course, whatever their reasons were, fleeing like cowards could not be forgiven. But there was no time to blame one another. The attacks from the Outer World creatures forced all races to fight once again. Their brutality was akin to wild animals in the jungle, except they were massive—ten times the height of humans and twenty times their length. Their numbers could not be estimated, as the vastness of the Outer World itself was still unknown at that time. They only knew a small part, a few kilometers from the edge of the Outer World. Unlike the Crancrse, who could appear at any hour or day, these creatures typically arrived in waves of hundreds every three to five days.

Mass death could not be avoided as they fought this new enemy. The population of all races dropped to an all-time low, with the Akatara race suffering significant losses. One hundred years after the birth of the Crancrse, the population of our race reached its highest point in history. Each year, the number of living members stayed consistently around 500. But when the Outer World began to invade, we were reduced to mere dozens. However, the problem was not just the death caused by the formidable Outer World creatures, but the recurring old fact. The Akatara race had grown weaker than before. A larger population meant the power of the Akatara would be divided into smaller factions, weakening each clan. The power of the Akatara was held by the ruler, and only the ruler could decide who could wield that power. With the power divided, the effects were clear, reminding us of how the first Akatara ancestors weakened in their private chambers.

The Akatara race, without a doubt, was one of the greatest forces in the world in fighting both the Crancrse and the creatures of the Outer World. Because of this, they were pressured by other races to reduce their population to just dozens. Our race had no choice but to comply, but there was no random genocide at that time. Each ruler stripped some clan members of their privileges and reduced them to ordinary humans. Don’t think that this déjà vu didn’t bring other problems, even though the rulers were very kind and fair in handling this issue.

The forced revocation of rights caused some Akatara clan members to rebel. They fought for their rights. Akatara once again became a race with more radical groups than peaceful ones. They condemned the actions of the races that had led the idea of fleeing to the Outer World, which had made the world’s situation even more difficult. It’s no surprise that many ordinary humans and Superhumans became victims of persecution by these radical groups, as they were considered the culprits behind the chaos.

However, the rulers of each Akatara clan at that time learned from experience. They realized that no matter how large the Akatara population was, their strength would only weaken if it grew too large. A smaller population was more advantageous for them. So, what did the rulers think? To resurrect tyranny for the sake of possible extinction, or to accept reality and let a smaller number survive? The answer was clear. They chose the most peaceful way. The rulers didn’t want our race to become the world’s enemy again. Our lives were fiercely protected by them at that time.

The radical groups didn’t last long, but the effects of their actions still linger to this day. The negative stigma towards the Akatara was once again deeply rooted, and it was a great loss for future generations. No one wanted to have closer relationships with our race. While other races could coexist, we were forced to live in isolated places, under strict surveillance by other races. This explains why our population in the world is so small. Although it is not as bad as before, we are once again subjected to discrimination. And don’t be surprised why the Superhumans have a heavy historical record against us. In their defense, this negative stigma had to be maintained so that other races would not act arrogantly towards us. As long as human lives were ensured, the thought of disturbing other races would never arise, and mutual respect was expected.

But things are not that simple. Our race has always been surrounded by mystery, from the time we first arrived on Earth until today. The curiosity gnaws at them. The most common question that arises in their minds is:

"Are the Akatara gods or demons? Did the Akatara really save humanity? Or was the flood disaster just their trick to conquer us?"

These questions are enough to open up other inquiries about our race, including the absence of some of our clan relatives in all the incidents that have occurred. Questions like these not only arise among humans but also among the Ajina Dala. Our identity is filled with mysteries that burden us, and what we get is a sense of suspicion that is passed down through generations among other races.

In fact, all races in the Middle World could still fight the threat from the Outer World. However, two races that are very close to the Realm—whenever they kill the creatures from there—display a certain sentiment. And it’s clear that it’s the Ajina Dala. They feel hurt every time they have to fight and kill Outer World creatures.

This sentiment also impacts the world’s fate. Initially, the Superhumans, who were the pioneers of the idea to escape to the Outer World, became the subject of ridicule from the entire world. However, they had the courage to admit their mistakes, and as a result, their opinions were no longer prioritized in important meetings. Now, after the Ajina Dala showed their sentiment towards the creatures of the Outer World, they became the ones who were ostracized. This then led to the emergence of a more extreme idea—the expansion of Middle World territory by annexing the Outer World, which is home to endemic species there. Indeed, they wanted to begin colonization.

Ajina Dala was further ostracized due to their rejection of the idea of colonization. However, this alienation did not only bring negative consequences but also strengthened their brotherhood. The relationship that had once been strained in the past was now solid once again. Unfortunately, their unity did not immediately bring any advantages. In a certain period, other races were reluctant to raise arms to help them. The other races did not intend to assist Ajina Dala with a hidden agenda — to let the creatures from the Outer World slowly wipe them out. The other races, especially humans, awaited to see how Ajina Dala would face the consequences of their naive nature. As a result, Ajina Dala's population continued to dwindle, burdened not only by a draining battle but also by the strain on their hearts and minds.

At first, Ajina Dala had high confidence. They believed they could build good relations with the creatures from the Outer World, just as they did with the animals and plants of the Middle World. However, reality proved otherwise. Their expectations were never realized. The creatures from the Outer World were not merely foreign, they were completely like entities from another world—nothing like the life Ajina Dala had known.

Unlike the animals in the Middle World, the creatures from the Outer World had no tendency to live in harmony. There was no sense of mutual benefit, only the brutal instinct for survival. Ajina Dala soon realized they had hoped for too much. They faced an unpredictable battle, their numbers dwindled drastically, and the situation became uncontrollable.

As a race often interacting with beings from other realms, Ajina Dala was the first to uncover horrifying facts about the Outer World. This eventually became a contradiction. Ajina Dala was once portrayed as the guardians of the border, yet they had no knowledge of the life in the Outer World, which brought various threats such as giant predators, contagious diseases, a drastically different environment, and food sources that could not be utilized by creatures of the Middle World. In other words, even if there was an idea to conquer this territory, what they found was not a paradise with a better life but a deeper hell.

In their increasingly desperate state, most of Ajina Dala eventually gave up and sought help from other races. They could not allow their numbers to continue to dwindle. However, this time, they did not come with sentimental feelings. They spoke based on reality. They explained to the other races about the extreme threats of the Outer World—not just from the creatures, but from the environment itself.

Two young figures from Ajina and Dala initiated a revolution for their race. Whether this revolution would lead them to a better future or worsen the situation, at that time, it had to be done to face the escalating tension. They were known as the "Revolutionary Duo," figures who not only sought to restore the good reputation of their race but also created ideas that would shape the future for all races in the world. They both had an eternal mission to find a way to free themselves from the shackles of Crancrse and both the Inner & Outer World beings.

The figure from Ajina was named Nedraw Ajina, while the figure from Dala was named Ramiaq Naga. They proposed a grand plan to the world: most of the Ajina would stay and guard the borders of the Outer and Inner Worlds across the world to face the threats from outside and within. Their idea was based on the belief that Crancrse originated from the Inner World, the place where the "Cora" had lived for centuries. So, they would not only be living borders for the Outer World but also explore these two vastly different realms. Ironically, Nedraw passed away before truly being able to venture deeper into the two worlds.

Meanwhile, the Dala, under Ramiaq's idea, would focus on handling the Crancrse threat across the Middle World. Dala proposed the construction of support pillars for every capital city in the kingdoms, a structure similar in principle to a relic. With this infrastructure, life would be more secure, at least in terms of protection from the Crancrse attacks that often emerged from underground.

Thus, Ajina Dala found their role in this world.

Ajina Dala & Humans, without realizing it, had actually succumbed to humans. Practically, the twelve kingdoms across the world were now controlled by the human race in almost every sector. It must be acknowledged that humans had won the inter-racial conflict without the need for weapons. And what drove the hidden victory of humans was none other than the NAYA Family.

And Sakti, this family had such profound influence. Both on the history that had passed, the ongoing conflicts, and the threats that would soon face you.

The story of past history relating to inter-racial conflicts has now been fully told. This is how the world works; this long history is not a tale of victory, nor of wisdom that eventually brings peace. It is the story of a wheel that continues to turn, where miracles and brutality walk hand in hand, where betrayal and greed swallow hope before it can take root. The world has been destroyed and rebuilt countless times, but it never truly finds an ending that is completely different. If there is anything to be learned from all this, it is the reality that those who live within it never truly change until, in the end, a common enemy unites them.

"So, Sakti, what do you think after hearing all that long history?" asked the mysterious girl.

"Whoa, that’s like reading one of those giant storybooks," Sakti said. "So, this is how it goes, huh? It’s all just about racial pride. Kinda makes sense why everyone here hates me now."

"Yeah, but the people here hate you for a more specific reason," the girl replied.

"Of course. No doubt, our race is hated. I’m starting to get why they locked me up in that canyon. But you still haven’t told me what’s going on in the near future, and you haven’t answered some of my questions. Why does Sukma look like he’s lost his mind? And what about the group led by Yeon-Jin? Who are they really? What are they trying to do by causing chaos in the city? Also, Yeon-Jin is from the Indigo Clan, which is supposed to be nowhere near this time. How is he even here?" Sakti fired off.

The girl took a moment of silence. The sky behind her started turning into dawn. After a bit, she finally spoke.

"Sakti, that’s way too complicated to explain in a short time. And I’m not the best person to go into all the details, especially since it’s already dawn," she said quietly.

Sakti furrowed his brow and interrupted, a bit confused, "Am I seeing things, or is your body starting to look... transparent?"

The girl chuckled lightly. Her smile made Sakti's heart race without him even realizing it. "Yeah, that’s because I’m not from this time. Like I mentioned, I’m a Time Akatara. I’ve got a limited amount of time before I vanish from this era."

"I almost forgot about that," Sakti mumbled. "But if you all from the Turquoise Clan can mess with time, why didn’t you just go back and stop Crancrse from being born in the first place?" he asked, knowing the question might sound a little reckless.

"Yeah... and we should've stopped the inter-racial conflict way earlier. That’s what you meant, right?" she answered, her voice carrying a hint of frustration.

"And you could've stopped the disaster last night too, making sure it never happened. That way, Sukma and Kamala would still be alive!" Sakti pressed.

"Sakti, do you even know who your real parents are?" the girl asked, a slight burden on her smile. The question made Sakti pause. He had forgotten about his origins for so long that it hadn’t even crossed his mind.

"Yeon-Jin and Kamala told me they went somewhere hard to reach," Sakti replied firmly.

"Of course, they were just hiding the truth," the girl murmured.

"If you know something about them, I’m all ears," Sakti said without hesitation.

"I came here to help you find a new path in life, but I can’t interfere with your personal choices," the girl admitted.

"Does telling me all this break the rules you’re following?" Sakti asked suspiciously.

"Definitely. Because the answers to the questions bugging you right now will change the course of your life, Sakti," she said honestly.

"I’m ready for it," Sakti said, determined.

She looked at him seriously, then asked, "If you’re really sure, then answer me this first: Are you ready to fight for your life?"

"That shouldn’t even be a question. I own my life. I won’t let anyone else control it," Sakti declared, firm like someone who's been through a lot.

"But Sakti, if you fight for your life, you’ll eventually be fighting for this world too," she said softly.

"Probably because of these red eyes and hair again," Sakti replied, rolling his eyes.

"It’s not that. Just dye your hair, cover your face with a mask, and you could live mysteriously forever," the girl teased with a small smile.

"You’re Turquoise. At this point, I’m not surprised by anything you say. But that’s probably something that can’t happen, huh?" Sakti replied, his voice dripping with doubt and exhaustion.

"Yeah, Sakti, it’s not just about you anymore. With that kind of power, don’t expect you can just live peacefully without feeling some responsibility."

"Responsibility... do I really want all that responsibility?"

"Things happened so quickly, and now I have this huge role to play. After hearing all that history you just told me, I think, maybe I should’ve just been born an ordinary person and not have to deal with all of this."

"I’ve even written myself into that thick storybook as the kid who wiped out hundreds in one night."

"Even when I first stepped into this strange world, I was already an uninvited guest."

"Those lives lost... eventually, they’ll come back for me. Thinking about right or wrong just makes me sick."

Sakti went on, frustration, anger, and disappointment in his words, all about a situation he knew he couldn’t escape.

"You really don’t care about this world, do you?" the girl said.

"I don’t care about this world. There’s nothing worth fighting for, and I don’t feel like I need to get involved in any of this."

"There's no fear, no regret, and no sense of responsibility. That’s all I see in you right now," the girl said softly.

"Yeah? And what’s wrong if this 'beast' you call Sakti has no humanity?" Sakti shot back, his voice sharp.

"Because you're a Ruler, you can't strip away your own power," she continued, her tone unwavering. "And as the Red Akatara, you'll be hunted for the rest of your life. There's nowhere to hide, and no place you can stay for long."

She took a step closer. "That's what I meant earlier—if you want to fight for your life, sooner or later, you'll end up fighting for this world. You've already been marked. People will come after you for your power. And the world you’ll fight for? It’s the Akatara who are still alive. Over time, you'll either protect them... or be protected by them. So, Sakti—welcome to the never-ending racial conflict."

At that moment, Sakti couldn’t care less about the world. What came next—he figured—was a problem for future him.

"So yeah, my answer’s pretty simple." His voice dropped to a chilling calm. "If I want to avoid becoming a monster, there’s only one thing I can do."

The girl turned around, her gaze locking onto his. Without warning, a dagger shot toward his face.

But before the blade could touch him—everything froze. Time itself halted. The dagger hovered inches from his skin, gleaming coldly in the stillness. With a flick of her power, the girl let it fall, landing between Sakti’s feet with a soft clink.

"Don’t get me wrong, Sakti." Her voice trembled slightly. "I care about you. I might not be able to kill you... but you can."

For a moment, Sakti was caught off guard—but his irritation quickly drowned out the surprise. Her words felt like a slap, as if she doubted his resolve.

"Don't underestimate me, lady. I'm not afraid of death!" He snatched the dagger off the ground and, without a second thought, pressed the blade against his chest—right over his pounding heart.

In a flash, the girl grabbed his wrist, stopping him before the blade could pierce his skin. And then—something unexpected.

A tear.

It slipped down her cheek, hitting the ground between them. Not rain. Not sweat. Just raw, unfiltered pain.

"Please... please... I give up." Her voice cracked under the weight of her emotions. "I don’t want this. I can’t do this anymore."

She sucked in a shaky breath, trying—and failing—to hold herself together.

"You're not the only one who wants to run away, Sakti. I do too."

Her hands trembled as she tightened her grip on his wrist. "I've seen it... so many times. A world where I’m too late to save you."

The memories hit her like a storm—visions of a thousand possible futures.

She had seen Sakti starve to death in a forgotten corner of the world. She had watched wild beasts tear him apart. In one vision, his blood soaked the floor of Sukma’s room. In another, an angry mob left him broken and lifeless. And the worst? She had seen him give up completely—after Sukma and Kamala were gone.

And in every single one of those worlds…

She cried.

Powerless. Helpless. Watching him die, again and again.

"Those worlds... they’re terrifying." Her voice dropped to a whisper. "They’re cold. They’re empty. And without you... they have no color."

Her voice softened, but the pain beneath her words remained crystal clear.

"Maybe you'll become a monster one day... but even monsters like you deserve to be loved."

She lowered her head, as if trying to hide the tears streaming down her face.

"This is the first time... the first time I've ever managed to stop your death. And I’m hoping—praying—that this time, things will be different."

A bitter smile crept across her lips. "It’s funny, isn’t it?" she murmured. "There’s so much I want to tell you... but I have to hold it all back—because if I say too much, I might destroy everything I’ve worked for in this timeline."

When she lifted her gaze, her eyes burned with unspoken feelings—emotions too heavy for words alone.

"When I said you can’t live without responsibility, it wasn’t because I wanted to force it on you," she said quietly.

"It’s the world, Sakti. The world will force that responsibility on you—whether you want it or not."

Without warning, she pulled him into a tight embrace—holding him as if she were afraid to ever let go. The warmth of her touch trembled against his skin, raw and real. It was the kind of hug you give when you know... it might be your last.

"Please, Sakti... don’t run away from this," her voice cracked. "I love you. I want to see you again—in a future where we can just... be together."

Her arms clung to him tighter. "You’re my world. And if my world leaves me behind… I’ll be left all alone with this burden."

"I can’t do this by myself," she confessed, her breath hitching between sobs. "But with you beside me… I’ll find the strength to keep going."

She pulled back just enough to meet his gaze. "So, fight for this future with me. Because the future I’m fighting for… is one where you’re happy."

Her tears wouldn’t stop falling—each one a reflection of the silent battles she had endured.

"You wanted a family," she whispered, "and I’ll fight for that future—for you."

But even as her words poured out, something began to change.

Her body… was fading.

Sakti felt it—the warmth of her touch growing lighter, her presence slipping from his grasp.

And with the last of her strength, she spoke—her voice barely louder than a breath:

"I… I just want to see you happy… in a peaceful world."

And then—just like that—she was gone.

Vanishing into the silence, leaving nothing behind but the echo of her heart.

Sakti stood in silence, not uttering a single word. The girl’s final words echoed in his heart, leaving behind a puzzle he couldn’t yet solve. That was the first—and the last—time he ever met the mysterious girl who appeared and vanished without a trace. She had given him answers, but in return, left him with even more questions.

Suddenly, the sound of footsteps broke the stillness outside the cave. A man entered—his hair and eyes the exact same shade as the girl’s. Without hesitation, he approached Sakti.

"Wow, that was dramatic," the man remarked casually. Then, with a smirk, he added, "You should’ve cried a little—might’ve strengthened her resolve, you know. Brat." His words weren’t cruel. If anything, they carried the familiar warmth of an older brother playfully scolding his younger sibling.

A new encounter. And with it, the possibility that anything could happen to Sakti.

But this man…

What could someone like him possibly do for Sakti?