Author's Note: Do Not Unlock Yet. Chapter Is Still Under Construction.

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Victor took a threatening step closer. "What did it mean by retribution? What haven't you told me?"

Rhozan opened his mouth, closed it again, then attempted to muster a reassuring smile. "The corrupted entity is deceptive. It manipulates minds, twists words to prey on your emotions. You mustn't—"

Victor's aura flared.

A thin, sharp distortion of space cracked the ice beneath Rhozan's feet.

"Don't try to BS me."

Rhozan swallowed hard.

Victor stared him down with cold, Void Emperor eyes. "If you don't tell me the full truth, I'm leaving. Right now. Your whole civilization's fate can go to hell for all I care."

The Kahr'uun warriors stiffened in shock.

Rhozan's composure shattered instantly. "N-no! Wait—please!"

Victor folded his arms.

The old mage lowered his head in defeat, exhaled a long trembling sigh, and murmured, "Fine. I… will give you the full story, Great Iruhun. The real one. But not here. We must return to the under-ice city first. What I must show you… lies behind the eastern sealed door."

Victor's eyes sharpened. "So it is connected."

Rhozan gave a defeated nod. "Yes."

Victor didn't respond. He simply turned away and watched as the surviving warriors began retrieving the bodies of their fallen brothers.

One was headless.

Another was missing half his torso.

A third had a perfectly round hole where his chest once was, organs crystallized by the cold.

The living looked barely better. One warrior—Gaari—clutched the stump of his missing arm, teeth grinding from the pain and cold. His face was pale blue.

Victor stepped forward and lifted a hand.

"Stay still."

A celestial-gold glow enveloped his palm—gentle, warm, completely opposite from the frigid world around them.

"Celestial Restoration."

The magic spread over Gaari like a blanket of warmth in the dead of winter. Golden veins of light stitched over the stump, then flesh regrew, muscle twined itself back together, bone spiraled outward like carved marble. Within seconds, a fully formed arm rested at Gaari's side.

The warrior stared in awe before dropping to one knee.

"Great Iruhun… thank you…"

Victor didn't respond. His expression was distant, thoughtful.

The corrupt entity's last words echoed in his mind:

"Learn the full story before becoming judge, jury, and executioner…"

He pushed the thought aside and gestured for them to move. "Let's go."

The group began trekking back toward the underground entrance carved into the glacier. It took nearly thirty minutes to descend the spiral pathways deep beneath the ice, where the temperature grew even more unbearable—dropping to levels lethal for humans but normal for the Kahr'uun.

They passed through caverns shimmering with frozen stalactites, glowing with faint blue luminescence from icy minerals. As they descended, the distant noise of a city rose—a deep, constant hum of life.

Finally, the enormous under-ice metropolis came into view.

Tens of thousands of Kahr'uun filled its wide crystal streets. Ice buildings towered like translucent skyscrapers. Mana lamps burned with pale sapphire flames. Children played atop frozen platforms. Merchants argued at stalls carved from frost.

A civilization thriving in a place no human could survive even for minutes.

The moment the crowd spotted Rhozan and the warriors returning, a wave of excitement spread.

"They're back!"

"They've returned from the hunt!"

"Did they defeat it? Did the corrupt beast fall?"

But then…

They saw the corpses.

A hush fell over the city.

Excitement turned to dread.

One Kahr'uun woman ran forward, and when she saw the headless corpse, her legs gave out. She fell to the ground screaming, clutching what remained of her loved one's frozen armor.

Her tears hit the ice—

plink

plink

—and immediately solidified into tiny, glimmering stones.

The sound was haunting.

More families arrived, faces breaking into grief when they recognized their dead.

Victor watched quietly, jaw clenched. He didn't want to be pulled into the emotion of it—but grief was infectious.

Some survivors bowed deeply to Victor, speaking through tears:

"Great Iruhun… why did you not destroy it…? Why has it escaped to torment us again?"

Victor scoffed.

Without ceremony, he pointed to Rhozan.

"Why don't you ask him?"

The crowd turned.

Rhozan stiffened, forced a smile, and quickly raised his hands. "Everyone, please. The Great Iruhun and I have matters to discuss. Matters concerning the future of our people. Go home. Tend to your families. Prepare for mourning rites."

The crowd hesitated, but eventually dispersed—slowly, reluctantly, sorrowfully. Only the grieving families remained, cradling frozen corpses in numb disbelief.

Rhozan wiped sweat from his brow despite the frigid air, then turned toward Victor.

"This way."

Victor didn't move. "And this time, you're actually telling me everything."

"I will," Rhozan said quietly, voice shaking. "I swear it on my mana core."

Victor held his gaze for several seconds before nodding once.

"Lead the way."

The group moved deeper into the city—toward the forbidden eastern district. Unlike the lively main streets, this part of the under-city was barren, silent, and dimly lit. No civilians lived here. No guards stood around. Even mana flames were scarce, as if the place itself had been forgotten by the living.

Victor finally spoke as they walked.

"That door," he said coldly. "The one you told me never to approach. The one sealed with ancient runes. That's where the truth is, isn't it?"

Rhozan's shoulders tightened.

"Yes," he whispered. "Behind that door lies the origin of our curse. The reason the corrupted entity exists. The sin of our people."

Victor's eyes narrowed.

"So the thing wasn't lying."

Rhozan trembled, but forced himself to keep walking through the frost-choked tunnels.

"Iruhun… the story you know is incomplete," Rhozan admitted. "And the part we hid… is the part that damned us all."

They reached the final corridor.

Ahead stood the massive ice door—thirty feet tall, covered in ancient glyphs that pulsed faintly like a heartbeat.

The truth waited behind it.

Victor's grip tightened on his sword.

Finally, Rhozan turned to him, expression grim, resigned, almost broken.

"I will tell you everything now," he said. "From the beginning. Without hiding a single thing."

---ss

Dust drifted in lazy spirals as the dreamscape mended itself.

Pillars phased right out of the ground around the altar, slowly turning red.

At the center of it all was Victor breathing shallowly as the enormous statue being loomed over him.

The being's gnarled as a steady flow of pinkish mist seeped from Victor's forehead into its open palm. The mist coiled and pulsed like threads of life essence saturated with sweet memory. Every inhalation from the statue being made the air colder, heavier, as though it were swallowing the very essence of his dreams.

Victor's lips twitched in his unconscious state. Somewhere within the web of illusion spun around his mind, he was still living the perfect life.

He was home again and Danny was laughing on the couch, munching popcorn. Jake was bragging about his latest sparring match with and Max was busy hacking something on his tablet as usual.

Victor grinned as he recalled bagging another endorsement deal that paid him 10,000,000 credits.

Not only was he an awakened, he was famous and powerful.

The walls were warm, the floorboards creaked just like he remembered, and the smell of freshly made noodles filled the air.

Everything was perfect.

And yet… something inside him itched.

Danny turned to him, noticing the faraway look on Victor's face.

"Yo, what's with that expression? You look like someone just stole your burger."

Victor laughed lightly. "It's just… doesn't all this feel a bit too perfect to you?"

Jake tossed a pillow at him. "Man, stop overthinking! You finally got what you wanted—peace and fame. Don't jinx it."

"Yeah," Max added with his eyes still on his tablet. "You've been stressing since the day you gained abilities. Just enjoy this for once."

Victor tried to. He really did. He leaned back, feeling the couch cushions sink just the right amount beneath his weight. But the feeling wouldn't leave him. A dull thrum, like an alarm deep inside his mind, wouldn't stop ringing.

"Still…" Victor murmured, tapping his chin. "It's just—everything feels like it's looping. We've had this same conversation twice today."

Danny frowned. "You sure you're okay, man?"

"Yeah," Jake said, crossing his arms. "Sounds like you've been reading too many of those paranoid cultivator novels again."

Victor chuckled. "Yeah… maybe I am."

...

Back in the dreamscape, the statue being tilted its head causing the wooden mask to split slightly down the center as cracks webbed outward. A deep, rasping laughter echoed softly.

"Just a little more..."

The altar Victor was stationed above, happened to have three layers from bottom to top.

The first layer suddenly emitted a deep violet glow and began to spread slowly.

The being's voice whispered in a forgotten tongue as more pink mist phased out of Victor's face. The second layer began to vibrate and slowly brighten as light crawled along the carvings like veins awakening after centuries of slumber.

The statue being's wooden mask continued to fracture, revealing glimpses of something underneath.