A few moments later—

"Cough! Cough!!" Basri coughed violently as consciousness slowly returned to him.

"Ugh... what... what happened to me?" he muttered faintly while scanning his surroundings.

The place was in disarray again — furniture displaced, scorch marks scattered along the floor, faint traces of energy still flickering in the air.

Sa-Ya, who had been standing a few meters away, immediately moved closer.

"Mister, you're awake. Are you alright?" she asked, her tone calm but slightly concerned.

Basri glanced down at his body, flexing his fingers and feeling the dull ache in his chest. After a brief check, he nodded.

"I think I'm fine, Miss. But... what happened here? Why does everything look so chaotic? And... how long was I unconscious?"

Sa-Ya paused for a moment, her calm eyes blinking with a faint blue hue. She seemed not to know how to explain it.

Basri, still dizzy and with his mind only half-clear, couldn't make sense of the situation either. But his first thought wasn't about himself—it was about his daughter.

"My daughter...!" he gasped suddenly. "Has my daughter been saved? Where is she—and where are the others?" He forced himself up, legs trembling.

Sa-Ya, expressionless as usual, slowly shook her head.

"I believe you should ask him instead," she said, pointing toward the corner of the room. "Though... you might want to wait until he calms down first."

Basri frowned and followed the direction of her finger. Rubbing his eyes to focus his vision, he finally noticed someone familiar sitting there.

A figure was slumped over on a small stool, his hand gripping his head, positioned not far from the bed where his daughter lay unconscious.

"Sir?" Basri called softly.

The figure didn't respond.

It was Al—sitting motionless like someone fighting off an unbearable headache. Sweat streamed down his face, his eyes wide and unfocused, lost in something that clearly wasn't just pain.

When Al gave no response, Basri turned back to Sa-Ya, alarmed.

"Miss, what's going on? What happened to him? And... my daughter—what about her?" he asked, moving closer to his child.

The girl's body lay still, seemingly unchanged, though her clothes and hair were messy.

Sa-Ya exhaled lightly and turned her gaze back toward Al.

"I think Master is under extreme stress right now," she said softly. "Please... just give him a moment."

Al remained where he was, unmoving. His eyes were locked on the ground, and in a faint, almost trembling whisper, he muttered—

"Shae..."

---

Some time earlier...

Before this moment, both Al and Shae had jumped through the dimensional portal—tracing the faint magical thread that linked Putri's body and soul to the third dimension.

But as soon as they reached the convergence point, something went wrong.

Only Shae managed to pass through.

Al—

BANG!

His body slammed into something invisible, as if a solid, unseen wall had rejected him.

"What... what is this?" he thought in shock.

He tried again, forcing himself toward the shimmering rift—but no matter how he pushed, the result was the same. It was as though the dimension itself refused his entry.

He infused every type of energy he could muster, attempting to override the resistance, but nothing worked. In fact, the portal began to close the more he forced it.

On the other side, Shae turned back just in time to see what was happening.

"Master? What's going on? Why aren't you coming?" she called, her voice soft and calm—dulled by the potion she had taken earlier. Not a trace of fear or panic touched her tone.

Moments later, her body fell deeper into the dimensional void.

Outside, Al could only roar in frustration, forcing his power to the limit. He unleashed several high-tier spells in succession, but they all bounced harmlessly off the invisible barrier, scattering into sparks.

"What is this? Some kind of... dimensional wall?" he hissed, activating his Dimensional Eyes to analyze and understand the phenomenon—but even that didn't give him anything meaningful.

The next instant, the backlash from his spell struck him.

He was thrown violently backward.

"Shaeeee!" he screamed.

THUD!

His body crashed hard into the wall of the magic bunker, the echo of his impact followed by a sudden silence as the white glow of the portal dimmed... and finally vanished.

Sa-Ya had rushed over immediately—but by then, it was already too late.

No one understood what had just happened. No one knew why the portal had rejected him.

But one thing was clear—Shae had gone through.

And Al... was left behind, powerless, watching the dimensional gate close before his eyes.

All he could do now was pray—

that Shae would survive on the other side.

---

Back to the present,

Al could only shake his head slowly, his body finally settling, the tension of frustration easing just enough to let reason return.

I feel like a tyrant who sacrificed his subordinates for a mission that wasn't even sensible, he thought, the weight of that realization pressing at the edges of his mind.

He took a long, steadying breath and rose to his feet.

Sa-Ya remained seated, unnervingly calm under the potion's lingering effects, while Basri had already awakened and was checking on his daughter.

Al's gaze moved over the girl's body; at a glance there seemed to be no major change, only the disorder of her appearance—hair askew, clothes rumpled, the pallor of someone who had been through a terrible ordeal.

Both Sa-Ya and Basri noticed Al observing them.

"Master, are you all right?" Sa-Ya asked, approaching with her voice neutral but attentive.

"Sir…" Basri replied weakly, his voice hollow with lingering fear.

Al watched them for a moment, then walked toward the bed where the girl lay.

"I'm fine," he answered simply.

Sa-Ya nodded, composed, and followed him to the bedside.

"What happened, sir?" Basri asked the instant Al arrived, his anxiety flaring anew.

Al paused to compose his words before speaking, choosing them carefully.

"This is...bad," he admitted. "I think I miscalculated." He kept his voice measured, though the admission carried weight.

Panic erupted in Basri at once.

"What?! Does that mean… my daughter is—" His question choked off as tears sprang to his eyes. He folded himself over the girl and clutched her to his chest.

"Please tell me you're lying! Please, sir… I can't—my child…" His voice broke, grief pouring out in ragged gasps.

Al looked at him without expression and gently lifted the distraught man, cradling him the way one steadies someone on the verge of collapse.

"No, that's not what I meant," Al said quietly, placing a firm, calming hand on Basri's shoulder. "For now—your daughter is still alive and can be saved. Don't worry"

Those words shifted Basri's emotions like wind turning a sail. Relief flooded him, though sobs still wracked his body.

"Really? Is that true?... Thank God. Thank God." He repeated the words like an incantation, tears running freely.

Al exhaled and patted him on the shoulder, trying to restore some strength to the man's trembling frame.

He then looked at Sa-Ya. "Sa-Ya, how long has it been since you drank the potion?"

"About thirty minutes, Master," Sa-Ya answered flatly.

"Are you still feeling calm?" Al asked.

Sa-Ya inclined her head. "The potion is still in effect, Master. Will it wear off soon?"

"I don't know," Al said. "I hope it lasts longer. Because the problem is... the side effects can make you lose consciousness for hours after the effect fades."

"That means Shae needs to return before it ends," Sa-Ya observed.

Al nodded. "That's right. For now, I'll keep searching for a way. Pray that she can finish it—find the girl's soul, and get out of that endless place."

Sa-Ya could only nod in agreement.

Al stepped closer to the slender thread of magic—the faint, glimmering tether that linked the girl's body to her soul within the third dimension. It was the only real connection left, the single strand he could use to sense what lay beyond, though how to probe it properly remained unclear.

He began to sift through possibilities, weighing every option to resolve what had gone wrong.

Why was I rejected by that dimension? he wondered.

My existance has been denied by two dimensions before—now a third? And this time it rejected my whole body outright. He analyzed every angle.

He touched the tiny fissure he could perceive only through his dimensional eye, eyes that saw more than mere sight.

Could Shae have passed through because she'd already been there once before? What truly sets her apart from me?

He exhaled sharply, frustration weighing in his chest.

Huff... I don't even know where to start thinking about it. Because so few had ever returned alive, information about that place was painfully scarce—so little was known. The number of myths about that dimension far outnumbered any reliable data.

"What should we do now, Master?" Sa-Ya interrupted his reverie.

"I don't know yet. I'm still thinking," Al replied. "Do you have any ideas?"

"You know I'm not that clever, Master," Sa-Ya said in her blunt tone. "But I'm curious—if that dimension is tied to spirits or souls, does that mean only souls can enter? Then why could Shae go in with her whole body?"

Al looked at her for a beat, mildly surprised. "Oh... I didn't realize you could be this sharp when your emotions are controlled, Sa-Ya." He mulled it over.

Soul, huh? he thought.

If so, my soul would have to detach so I can enter that place—but I don't know soul magic well. If I were an Axis, maybe I could. But... even if my soul entered, what could it do in there? This is maddening.

Sa-Ya merely nodded, steady and silent.

Then something broke the fragile calm.

"ARGGGHHH!!"

Basri's scream tore the air. He collapsed, clutching his skull as if something inside his head convulsed with pain.

Al and Sa-Ya whirled to him.

They rushed over as Basri writhed on the floor.

"What's happening, Mr. Basri?" Sa-Ya asked, trying to support his convulsing form.

But Basri only groaned and writhed in agony.

Al activated his dimensional eye to inspect Basri's condition. The energy flow and the warding magic he had placed earlier—intended to steady Basri's soul—were fraying and broken.

"He doesn't have much time," Al said with a grim tone. "Even with all the precautions, nothing really changed. After Axis wounded his soul, his body started to deteriorate—the more his soul suffered, the worse his physical state became."

He glanced at Sa-Ya. "Sa-Ya. Restrain him."

Sa-Ya nodded and rose without hesitation. She raised both hands toward Basri.

Magic Skill: Kharon Chain.

WOSHH!

Four translucent chains of shimmering, pale green light sprang forth from the air and wrapped around each of Basri's limbs—two securing his arms, two fastening his legs. He floated in midair, suspended despite his thrashing strength.

The spell was a spiritual binding designed to stabilize and influence the bound soul. Gradually, Basri's violent struggles subsided; the chaotic ripples in his spirit slowed, as if the chains were locking the disordered energy in place.

"He's locked in," Sa-Ya reported. "Master."

Al inclined his head and approached Basri. "I'm sorry, Mr. Basri. I hope you understand."

He then faced Sa-Ya. "Is your magic stable?"

Sa-Ya answered simply, "After the potion you gave me yesterday, my energy has increased. My skills are more stable and last longer than usual."

Al allowed himself a small measure of relief. "With that skill, we can at least hold his soul in check for a while," he said, looking toward Basri again. "This might be selfish, and maybe it's only an ideal, but I want to try to make sure he can see his daughter recover before he goes."

He turned back toward the dimensional thread, intent on analyzing the passage again, searching for any method to breach the third dimension.

Then a voice came from behind them—low, resonant, and full of an uncanny timbre.

"Khe-Do-Mua-Ppa-Lei-Yehe—?" (So this was your doing?)

The syllables were alien, a sound that did not belong to any tongue of this world.

Al spun around to face the source.

Sa-Ya tensed, ready to strike, but Al stopped her with a raised hand.

"Sa-Ya, don't move. Keep your magic controlled," he ordered sharply.

Sa-Ya complied, her expression unreadable.

Before them stood a towering figure, enveloped by a writhing shroud of black energy that twisted like a storm. It coiled and lashed, a living darkness that seemed to tear at the very air around it.

Its presence chilled the room; the atmosphere tightened, the temperature dropping. Every instinct in the bodies of those present screamed to flee.

Al stared, sweat beading on his brow. His energy felt disturbed as if the creature's mere existence bent the rules he relied on.

So this is its true form, he thought, stunned.

And then—

FWOSSHHH!

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