"…You really are making this 'Great One' sound like some sort of omnipotent god who's just been living in the shadows all this time," Alice said after a long pause, her tone halfway between mockery and genuine curiosity. Her golden eyes glimmered dangerously. "Anyway… in this so-called group or organization of yours, are there any members who can actually survive after taking my full strength head-on?"

The corner of my mouth twitched under the mask.

Of course not. There weren't any members in the first place.

Right now, the grand 'organization' I was painting for her was nothing more than me, myself, and a stubborn belief I could spin gold out of smoke. In fact, the whole reason I was standing here was to recruit villain No. 2—her.

But she didn't need to know that. I couldn't break character.

So, I let the silence linger a beat too long, just enough to make her think I was considering the weight of her question.

[You mistake His silence for absence.]

Her brow furrowed at the sudden shift in tone, but she didn't interrupt.

[The Great One does not need an army of mortals to prove His supremacy. The truth is simple—should He will it, even your strongest blow would crumble into nothing. But the question you asked is meaningless. Survival? You speak as though there is anyone in this world who could truly measure your power, or His.]

Her lips curved into a smirk, but there was a flicker in her gaze—hesitation, or maybe irritation.

[Alice Draken. The question is in itself disgrace towards the Great One but I'll let this slide this one time but I'll answer your question. Yes there are members stronger then you and let me tell you, He is not building an army of shields to stand in front of you. He seeks one thing only—to awaken those worthy of His gaze. To free the predators from the chains of this pathetic zoo they call a world.]

I tilted my head slightly, letting the firelight catch the mask.

[And that, Alice, is why you stand before me now. Not because you need to test yourself against fodder. But because you are already more than them. Because He sees in you the storm they fear—and He has no interest in seeing such a storm wasted.]

Her smirk twitched—just for a second—like a mask slipping.

"…That's hard to believe."

[Truly doubtful people don't make that kind of expression.]

My voice cut through the silence, low and steady.

[I don't like the way you're denying it with words when your face is already betraying you.]

Her golden eyes narrowed. "…I still can't believe it. Especially the part about the Everdusk Stone. I've searched for years and haven't seen the faintest shadow of it. And you expect me to believe you'll just—hand it over?"

[I understand your doubt.]

I tilted my head slightly, letting a hint of mockery slip through.

[So I'll make you a promise.]

"…A promise?"

[Yes. Since He desires you, I'll show my hand first.]

I let the silence stretch, made sure she felt the weight of what was coming before I spoke again.

[Two months.]

Her brows furrowed. "What?"

[Two months from now, I will stand before you with the Everdusk Stone in hand.]

The disbelief on her face was almost amusing.

[Of course, there are no conditions for seeing it. When the time comes, you'll see the stone, feel His power for yourself. Only then will we continue this conversation.]

She looked at me as though I'd lost my mind. "You're asking me to believe that? To wait for some miraculous delivery of the thing I've been chasing my whole life?"

[Believe?]

A chuckle slipped out, dark and low.

[I don't need you to believe. I only need you to remember my words when the moment comes. Because when He moves, when His will touches this world… even you will have no choice but to acknowledge it.]

Her smirk returned, thin and brittle around the edges. "…You really do sound insane."

[Perhaps.]

I leaned forward slightly, mask glinting in the firelight.

[But remember this, Alice Draken—He is everything. Where your world ends, He begins. Where your hope dies, He breathes life again. Whether you scoff or deny, it doesn't change the truth of what's coming.]

[So doubt me. Call me mad. But when the Everdusk Stone is in your hands—when your seal shatters and you stand unbound—] I let the words linger, weighted, almost sweet. [—you'll remember who it was that gave you the path forward.]

For the first time, Alice said nothing.

And silence, in its own way, was the answer I'd been hoping for.

She laughed softly, tilting her head. "Hah. At first, I thought your invitation was rude, completely devoid of manners. But now… you're a more charming man than I gave you credit for. Your skill at securing a second meeting isn't bad at all."

[I can't do anything that would disgrace His reputation.]

Her smile sharpened. "But what if, contrary to your promise, I decide the Everdusk Stone is too tempting and try to take it by force? Will you come back with comrades next time? Hide behind them?"

[Try it if you want.]

"…What?"

[However—]

I raised one hand. Shadows stirred at my palm, coalescing into a sphere of Black Shadow. But the shape was weak, small, unimpressive—hardly something worthy of His name. A poor warning, nothing more.

My jaw tightened. No. That wouldn't do.

Almost by instinct, I poured Enhancement into the shadow. And then, something changed.

The darkness thickened, swelling with a texture that looked less like smoke and more like tar. It pulsed faintly, alive in a way shadows shouldn't be. Greedy, hungry, it clung to my hand like a parasite.

The air warped.

The tiny flame Alice had conjured before sputtered and dimmed, as though the thing in my palm was swallowing its light whole. Within seconds, the world around us bled into a suffocating pitch black, as if the night itself had been devoured.

Even I had to bite down on the shiver crawling up my spine.

Alice froze, her mocking smile stiffening for just a breath. Her golden eyes darted to the sphere, and though her lips curved as if to scoff, her body betrayed her—shoulders tense, shotgun gripped tighter than before.

The silence between us stretched, thick and heavy.

[This—] my voice cut through the dark, low and steady, [—is but a fraction of His shadow. A splinter of what He allows me to wield.]

I let the sphere pulse once, its oily surface swallowing the last glimmer of firelight.

[So ask yourself, Alice Draken. If even His fragments carry the weight of night itself… what do you think the Great One truly is?]

Her smile faltered for real this time.

And I savored it.

Alice's eyes lingered on the sphere, the golden flecks in her irises catching what little light remained. Her lips curled into a smirk, though it was tighter than usual—forced bravado.

"…You really like theatrics, don't you?" she said, trying to sound amused. "All this shadow and mystery. You must spend a lot of time in front of a mirror, rehearsing."

[I don't rehearse. I simply show truth the way it deserves to be seen.]

Her smirk twitched, and then she tilted her head back with a laugh. "Truth, huh? You talk about it like you own it."

[Not own. Carry.] I let the sphere of shadow pulse once more, its oily ripples crawling across my palm. [Truth isn't something you can seize. It's something that consumes you until you either break… or become strong enough to bear it.]

Alice narrowed her eyes, her laugh fading into something quieter. "That kind of talk… it sounds almost like faith. But I didn't take you for a priest."

[I'm not.] I stepped forward once, the darkness spreading with me. [I'm the warning. And the offer.]

She clicked her tongue, leaning back against the ruined stone pillar behind her. "Warning, offer, shadow, truth… tch, you're a lot of things for one man. But fine, I'll play along."

Her fingers tapped against her shotgun's trigger guard, slow and deliberate.

"Let's say I believe you. Let's say this 'Great One' you speak of isn't just a mask for your tricks. What happens if I refuse you? If I spit in your face and decide I'd rather burn in hell than bow to someone else's nightmare?"

[Then you burn.]

Alice blinked, then let out a sharp laugh—one with a trace of nerves in it. "So simple? No persuasion, no begging? Just 'burn'?"

[Wouldn't be the first time I've watched someone choose their own pyre.]

She studied me with a silence that felt heavier than her mocking words.

Then she exhaled, slow. "…You're a bastard, you know that? A charming bastard, but still."

[You'll have two months.] I let the sphere dissolve back into shadow, though the lingering cold remained. [Two months to decide whether you'll burn… or rise.]

Before she could respond, the teleportation relic activated, a shimmer of distortion crawling up my body.

Her hand twitched forward. "Wait—"

Too late. The world folded, and I was gone.

The ruined hall fell into silence, save for the faint drip of water from somewhere unseen. Alice stood there, alone, shotgun still clutched tightly in her hands.

And then, finally, she let out a laugh. Low at first, then shaking her shoulders.

"…Haha. Shit." She dragged one hand down her face, her grin sharp and uneasy. "I messed with the wrong person, didn't I?"

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