Millie blinked slowly.

Where am I…?

A white ceiling blurred into view above her. Strange. Unfamiliar—yet somehow familiar.

A hospital…?

She flexed her fingers on instinct. They moved normally. No stiffness, no pain.

Why… am I here?

The next thing she checked was the system log piled in the corner of her vision. It told her everything she needed to know.

[Due to the skill, 'Burn Blood,' your HP is decreasing.]

[You are consuming a Medium HP Potion. HP is recovering.]

[Due to the skill, 'Burn Blood,' your HP is decreasing.]

[You are consuming a Medium HP Potion. HP is recovering.]

The same message repeated over and over.

She understood immediately what had happened.

So the backlash finally hit me…

Burn Blood—a skill that ignited her own blood to temporarily enhance her body.

By nature, it devoured HP like wildfire.

She had always known this day would come.

She had fought too many times while walking the tightrope between life and death. It was only a matter of time.

The real question was… why had she pushed herself so far?

Hrrgh…!

As her consciousness slowly returned, a splitting headache followed—and with it, memories came crashing back in waves.

She recalled the last thing she'd seen.

A massive lizard, surrounded by jagged rock formations, threatening the lives of those in Swansea.

A mid-boss from a C-rank dungeon.

A half-dragon monster.

The Giant Horned Lizard!

In a desperate effort to protect Adonis's team, she'd activated Burn Blood at full force. She remembered the clash, the brutal collision of power and scale.

She had almost died.

…Did we win?

At the very least, the fact she was alive—here in a hospital bed—meant they must have.

And after all… Jhin had been there.

Even a Giant Horned Lizard wouldn't have stood a chance against him.

Jhin…

Her eyes fell on the final line of the log.

[Item 'Troll's Heart' has been consumed.]

[Special conditions have been met.]

[Racial trait 'Troll' has been acquired.]

The Troll's Heart—the only known item that could negate the backlash of Burn Blood.

She remembered. Back in Exodia 1, they had scoured a troll-infested dungeon just to find that item for a similar crisis.

But how had it ended up inside her?

What on earth had happened while she was unconscious?

It was then she heard voices outside the room—two people, one male, one female, exchanging sharp jabs. They didn't sound especially fond of each other.

"…I thought you were just some useless hunk of muscle."

"You've got a mouth on you for someone so tiny."

"Keep running it. I'll rearrange your teeth."

Millie furrowed her brows, trying to match the voices.

The woman, she recognized—Ringling.

But the man? She had no memory of him.

And she prided herself on her ear for voices.

She knew. She had never heard this man before.

"You little brat. You wanna die?"

"Pfft."

The two stepped into the room, and their gazes met hers. Ringling ignored the man's feral glare and turned to her.

"You're awake. How're you feeling?"

Millie slowly sat up in bed.

"…A bit sore, but I'm okay."

"Limbs all working?"

"Yes."

"Powerstable?"

"Feels normal."

Only then did she turn her attention to the man standing beside Ringling.

Just as she thought—she didn't know him.

But one thing she knew for certain—

This man… is strong.

She had a hawk's eye for these things. She could get a feel for someone's caliber just by being near them.

This man? Unreadable. Just like Jhin.

Ringling reached out and placed a hand on Millie's forehead.

"No fever. Looks like the Burn Blood backlash is completely gone."

"…Did you get me the Troll's Heart, Ringling?"

"Nope. That was Kyle and the musclehead here."

"I'm not 'musclehead.' I'm Tempah."

Ringling explained, briefly, what had happened while she was out cold. How Jhin and Tempah had gone together the night before to retrieve the Troll's Heart.

"…Thank you."

"No need for that. I got what I wanted too."

"Still… Thank you."

Millie bowed her head deeply toward Tempah, who just gave a grunt in return.

Then, scanning the room, she turned to Ringling again.

"…Where's Jhin?"

"Said he was headed to the library."

"The library?"

Bellatris looked annoyed.

"Don't ask me why. He was unpredictable before, but now? It's worse. Like some angsty teenager or something. What is going on with that guy?"

She clicked her tongue and quickly changed the subject.

"Anyway—are you really going to perform at the festival? If you want out, I can pull you right now."

"No. I'm fine. I can do it."

Millie nodded firmly as she climbed out of bed.

The Troll's Heart had already granted her the 'Troll Trait'—meaning she now had access to Regeneration. Her body felt surprisingly light.

Ringling squinted, then said dryly,

"You didn't understand my question. I already know your body's fine."

"…"

"What I don't like is the plan. A festival? Even if it's a trap to lure them in… putting people's lives on the line as bait? It's not reasonable. The risk is too damn high."

She still disapproved of the festival.

Millie looked at her calmly and replied in a quiet voice.

"…That's not the only reason, I think."

"Huh?"

"I'm sure Jhin has something else in mind."

Ringling stared into Millie's eyes for a moment, her expression unreadable.

"…Hmm."

Millie glanced out the window.

Beyond the glass, people from Sector 3 were scattered about, resting under the open sky because there weren't enough hospital rooms.

She'd seen people like that before—roaming outside Ark. Lost, desperate, surviving.

The ones who died at BeyWorld too…

Jhin had seen it all with her.

"The Jhin I know… he wouldn't offer people's lives as bait just for some strategic diversion. There's more to this. There has to be."

There are things words can't explain.

Sometimes, emotions—like fear, or hope, or despair—are things you can only understand once you've lived through them.

Especially for someone like Bellatris, who always viewed the world through reason and logic.

This wasn't something she could calculate.

You have to live it to know it.

Bellatris clicked her tongue, as if holding back things she couldn't quite put into words.

"…Even so, there's no rush. The main stage starts at 9 p.m. Why don't you rest a bit longer?"

Millie just shrugged, smiling faintly.

"It's been half a year since I stood on stage. I'm a professional."

Six hours remained until the festival began.

Not much time, if one intended to sharpen song and dance long left dormant.

8:30 p.m.

Though the festival's main event was scheduled for 9, Ark's central plaza was already overflowing with people.

Packed to the brim, shoulder to shoulder.

"Is it true? Millie's performing?"

"…I heard there'll be a whole bunch of idols."

"Who knew an idol survived this long?"

"Are they seriously holding a festival right now?"

The surprising part wasn't just the civilians. Even players—many of whom had been openly skeptical about the idea of a festival—now stood around grinning, snacking, and inching toward the stage.

Maybe it was because Millie had been more than just a celebrity before the world fell apart. She had been a national icon, beloved by all.

"I heard she's releasing a new song tonight."

"…You're joking."

"Ugh. Well, now I have to see it."

Before the end of the world, hers was the voice that comforted people as they fought through their exhausting days.

A voice that sang of life—one everyone loved.

And now, Millie was back.

With a new song.

And people were excited again, hearts fluttering for the first time in forever.

But not everyone in that crowd had come to celebrate.

Scattered among the sea of cheering citizens and curious players were others—faces scanning, voices murmuring softly into radios.

"Commence the operation."

—"Understood."

The Company.

They moved quietly, slipping among the crowd, pressing small buttons on concealed devices. Signals were sent to the Triggers—creatures waiting in the shadows.

The plan was simple:

Detonate the latent Dungeon Sickness in infected victims. Create chaos.

Let the infection spread. Let it spiral.

Let it destroy the festival from within.

Step one: turn people into Grids. Twist the joy into carnage.

…

But nothing happened.

No screams. No transformations.

The lights stayed bright. The laughter continued.

—"Zone A, Dungeon Sickness failed to activate."

—"Zone B, failed as well."

—"Zone C, nothing."

Reports poured in from operatives scattered across each zone.

Mateo of the Company listened silently before biting out,

"What's the cause?"

—"…It appears the drinks being freely distributed contain a cure."

"You're saying they cured all of Zone 3's residents in that short a time?"

—"There's no other explanation."

Mateo let out a long, bitter sigh. His furrowed brow deepened into a canyon.

Disappointment—but not surprise.

After all, their enemy was her.

Bellatris.

The genius girl of Heaven Above Heaven. The one who had mastered the Mage class—one of the hardest to even touch in Exodia.

Even in the real world, she had been famous.

In Exodia 2, she was something more.

Her magical talents only kept sharpening with time.

The very spell circles protecting Ark had been designed by her.

"Tch. But this next part… this won't fail."

He wasn't worried.

Because the main event of their plan wasn't the Dungeon Sickness.

It was the Triggers—already positioned all over Zone 2.

Yes, the first plan had failed. But that didn't matter.

This was the real core.

There is no player in Ark right now who can stop multiple Triggers at once.

All the high-level players had left Ark. That was Ark's fatal weakness.

So what if Kyle, Bellatris, or even Clarke are here? Woo-hyun chuckled coldly, eyes locked on the drone footage of Zone 2.

That's why they didn't send just one.

Even Kyle hasn't recovered half the strength he had in Exodia 1. There's no way those three can stop a simultaneous assault.

And really, just the appearance of Triggers at the festival was a win in itself.

The message was clear:

We walked our monsters into your living room.

Confidence filled Mateo's voice.

"Activate all Triggers."

—"Yes, sir."

He leaned back, watching the drone's live feed. The colorful, festive scene would soon become a nightmare. A festival drowned in blood and screams.

Yes… This was Kyle's arrogance bearing its consequences.

Throwing a festival in times like these?

Mateo grinned wickedly.

All that was missing was popcorn.

Time passed.

"…Team A. What's going on?"

He frowned.

"Team B? Report."

"Team C!"

He called each unit. No reply. Not one.

Suddenly, a chill ran down his spine.

He kept calling. Desperation rising.

And finally—Team D responded.

—"…I told you. Don't show your faces around me."

The voice hit him like a hammer.

Mateo's heart dropped into his stomach.

He knew that voice.

"…Kyle."

His lips trembled. He clenched his teeth.

"…What did you do?"

—"You should've listened. I told you to hide. Didn't I?"

"You think… You think this is enough to stop me?"

He reached for his last trump card. Their final contingency. The one thing even Triggers couldn't match.

But—

—"Found you."

"…!"

He leapt back, startled—not by the voice in his earpiece, but by the real sound of footsteps.

Coming closer.

Steady. Unhurried. Unavoidable.

"You people really don't learn, do you?"

From the pitch-black tunnel ahead, twin golden eyes gleamed.

Cold. Lethal.

"…Kyle!"

Jhin stood there. Closer than Mateo could react to. His eyes glinting like two crescent moons of fury.

"I said—if I see you again, you die. Didn't I?"

"…You…!"

"Shh. You know it's festival night, right? Keep it down. You'll ruin the mood."

Woo-hyun trembled.

"This isn't over. Don't think for a second—!"

"Enough talking. Let's get this over with."

"…What?"

Kyle closed the distance in an instant and grabbed Mateo by the throat.

He hadn't even seen him move.

His body didn't react in time. Couldn't.

"W-What…!"

"I want to see Millie's performance too, you know."

CRACK.