"Sa-Ya, can you see that figure?" Al's voice was calm but sharp, cutting through the heavy stillness of the air.

Sa-Ya shook her head lightly, her expression calm.

"I can only see a mass of black energy over there, Master," she replied softly. "What is happening? What kind of creature is that?"

Of course, Sa-Ya wouldn't be able to see it. The entity before us wasn't something ordinary eyes were ever meant to perceive. This being was different—far beyond the boundaries of mortal perception.

Even a mere fragment of its energy was enough to distort reality itself. If it were to fully manifest here, the consequences would be catastrophic. Two nights in a row, and now, another fragment of a terrifying being reveals itself before me. Al thought grimly.

He narrowed his eyes, his Dimensional Eyes blazing with crimson radiance.

"That thing..." Al murmured, a faint smirk curving his lips. "That is... an Agent of Death."

"Agent of Death?" Sa-Ya echoed, frowning. "Do you mean... like a grim reaper, Master?"

"You could think of it that way," Al answered, his tone unbothered.

Sa-Ya's gaze flickered with unease. "Then... what should we do, Master?"

Al glanced over his shoulder at her. "Sa-Ya, this creature won't harm you. Just make sure your magic remains stable. I'll isolate you for a while."

She nodded obediently as Al raised his hand. Layers of translucent barriers bloomed into existence around Sa-Ya, Basri, and Putri—each one infused with complex runes of protection and sensory isolation. They would neither hear nor see what happened beyond those shimmering walls.

"I hope everything will be alright, Master," Sa-Ya whispered just before the barrier sealed completely around her.

Al gave a faint nod, then turned back toward the entity.

The figure remained unmoving, merely observing the surroundings in eerie silence.

Its form was shrouded in thick shadows—an overwhelming darkness that devoured light itself—revealing only the faint silhouette of a tall humanoid figure. Golden eyes glowed faintly within the void, their silver irises gleaming like liquid moonlight. Even with his Dimensional Eyes, Al could barely perceive its true form.

"A-Gha-E-Lhoa-Mue-Ko-No-Ae-Pass-Uro-Na-Pwang?"

("What do you seek here, Divine Agent?") Al spoke in an ancient tongue long forgotten by mortals.

The being slowly turned its head toward him, and their conversation continued in that primordial language.

The entity's voice was thunderous yet regal, vibrating through the very fabric of space.

"What kind of chaos have you brought upon this world, accursed human?"

"Tch... even for a so-called Divine Agent, you still look down on humans like me," Al retorted. "And chaos? What chaos have I caused, when all I've done is try to save lives?"

"Save?" The agent's tone rose, filled with disdain. "Cursed human, you seek to bend the world to your will. You play with laws that were never meant for your kind."

The air trembled as it spoke.

"You wield eyes that should have perished tens of thousands of years ago. Even possessing a fragment of them is a grave sin. You channel energies forbidden to mortals—an even greater sin. And now, you dare to interfere with souls and mock the essence of death itself?"

Al's lips tightened. "You think I wanted this fate? You're mistaken. And tell me—who exactly is the one trying to play god here?"

The Divine Agent's golden eyes flared brighter, and its hand rose slowly, tendrils of black energy coiling around its arm. It didn't answer with words.

GRAB!

In an instant, dark energy surged through the air, binding Al completely and lifting him off the ground.

"What—?! I can't even react!" Al gasped, struggling as the force constricted his limbs. The more he fought, the tighter the darkness compressed around him.

The energy pulsed violently—

WOSHHH!

"Arghhhh!" Al screamed as his body was yanked forward, pulled through the air until he hung directly before the divine being.

The impact rattled him to his core; it felt as if his very soul trembled from the contact. Yet even with his body restrained and his energy suppressed, his consciousness held firm.

"You—!" Al growled through clenched teeth.

Their gazes locked. His crimson Dimensional Eyes met the golden-silver gaze of the agent. The sheer clash of their spiritual pressure caused the surrounding space to quake violently, the air warping as if two divine realms were colliding.

The being's voice rolled through the silence like judgment itself.

"Those eyes should have vanished long ago, erased along with their true bearer. Yet humans... they never cease to hunger for what is forbidden."

It leaned closer, studying him.

"Eyes that can perceive the essence of all things... eyes that can witness beings like us, the Divine. And yet—look at you. The fragment you hold is cracked and corrupted. What once shone with celestial light now reeks of infernal taint. Those blood-red pupils... how revolting."

Al hissed. "You sure talk a lot. Since when does a so-called celestial agent know what revolting means? Let me go already! What do you want from me?"

The agent replied coldly, "There is no need for struggle. You will be freed only when I will it—and not a moment sooner."

Al's glare hardened.

Damn it... even a fragment of this creature's power is overwhelming. How am I supposed to fight this? he thought, teeth gritted.

Finally, he snapped, "What business does a divine agent even have in the mortal realm? Shouldn't you mind your own damn duties instead of meddling with human lives?"

The Divine Agent did not answer immediately. Its eyes glowed with an unearthly brilliance, and the oppressive silence that followed was heavier than death itself.

The Agent appeared utterly indifferent, his expression unreadable as his eyes locked deeply onto Al's.

From beside him, a faint swirl of shadow gathered—black energy condensing into the form of an ancient scroll. The object pulsed softly, carrying a sense of age and divine authority. The Agent glanced at it once, and with a mere flicker of his intent, the scroll unfurled midair.

"David Virellano. Born on August seventh, year twenty-thousand and eight of the human calendar," he said flatly, his tone as cold as the void. He was reading directly from the scroll — the record of Al's life.

Al blinked in confusion, frowning. He had no idea what the strange being was doing or why David's name was suddenly mentioned. He couldn't have known that the Agent was reading through the threads of his destiny — tracing the flow of life and death that governed his very existence.

"What the hell are you talking about? Why are you mentioning that liar's name? And isn't that brat born on the first of July?" Al protested, irritation seeping into his voice.

The Agent ignored him completely and continued reading the glowing lines of fate, his eyes scanning until he reached the section that recorded Al's destined death.

Then—

His pupils dilated.

A flicker of disbelief crossed his otherwise stoic face. He reread the scroll from the beginning, then again, more carefully this time. That should've been impossible. Agents never made such mistakes. And yet… something was missing. Something wasn't there.

Without warning, the entity drew Al closer through an unseen force. And spoke, its tone sharp and commanding.

"Who are you?!" he thundered, his voice echoing through the void. "Why do you hold dominion over the Dimensional Eye's fate, when its existence is nowhere written within the thread of your destiny?"

"Huh? Thread of my destiny? What are you even talking about?" Al asked, baffled and a little irritated.

The Agent didn't bother answering. Instead, he reached out and touched Al—not his body, but his soul.

When his finger touch Al's soul,

"ARGHHHHH!"

Al screamed as pain like molten fire ripped through every fiber of his being. His entire body convulsed violently, his breath hitching. Tears welled up, and a trickle of blood ran down from his lips, his nose, even from the corners of his eyes and ears.

"What—what the hell did you just do to me!?" he gasped.

But the Agent stood frozen, his expression now filled with shock rather than malice.

"You… you truly are David Virellano," the Agent muttered. "Your soul bears his exact signature. And yet… something is fundamentally different. Why?"

Al gritted his teeth, glaring despite the pain. "What the hell are you talking about, you lunatic? Don't call me by that trash name. I'm not him."

"Stop lying," the Agent snapped. "No human soul can deceive my sight. What kind of trick did you pull to mask yourself even from me?"

"Hah? You think I'm capable of that? You're a so-called heavenly agent, right? Don't you have some divine detection power or whatever? My dimension eye—even broken—can still detect lies. Surely a 'divine being' like you can do the same."

The Agent fell silent, his gaze narrowing as he peered deeper into Al's energy flow. To his surprise… there were no signs of deceit. Every spiritual current, every resonance of truth remained consistent.

Then who—or what—was this boy?

"Then who are you?" the Agent finally asked, his voice quieter, heavier. "What have you done to alter your very existence?"

Al furrowed his brows, confusion mixing with a strange sense of dread. The questions made no sense.

What was this creature talking about?

Still, he tried to piece the fragments together in his mind — the memories, the coincidences, the fragments that never fit. And suddenly… something clicked.

A bitter laugh escaped him. "Hahaha… I see now. Guess your so-called heavenly duties haven't been updated in a while, huh? You don't even know I'm the switched child?"

The Agent blinked, his expression briefly faltering. Yet again, there was no lie in Al's tone — only an odd mix of amusement and arrogance.

"What do you mean by that?" he demanded.

Al smirked faintly and explained, his tone half-serious, half-taunting.

"I just realized something. Of course you'd call me by that brat's name. My real name was supposed to be David Virellano. Which means whatever you just read… was the fate of this soul's original owner, wasn't it?"

The Agent gave a slow nod.

"Someone switched me when I was a baby," Al continued. "I was even born way earlier than the date you mentioned. Probably forced out of the womb prematurely. That explains why I was so damn weak as a kid, haha."

"You were switched? And born prematurely?" the Agent murmured. "That… wasn't written in your fate at all."

"I don't get it either," Al said with a shrug. "But that's the truth. Maybe you should go back to your boss and ask for an update on your scroll or whatever."

"That's impossible," the Agent replied sternly. "Fate cannot be rewritten — not events like birth. Mutable destinies such as career, love, or choices can bend, yes, but birth is fixed. Unless…" He paused, his divine gaze sharpening. "…Unless you somehow knew before you were born. But that's absurd. No unborn soul could ever alter its own destiny."

Al fell silent, his brows knitted in confusion.

Then, unexpectedly, the Agent chuckled—a deep, unsettling laugh echoing faintly through the void.

"I see now. You must be one of those cases of Fate Distortion," he said slowly. "Which means… someone must have discovered the artifact—that artifact—and used it to rewrite your destiny."

The mention of an artifact made Al's eyes widen slightly.

An artifact that could alter fate…? He recalled something—a fragment of a conversation with that poisonous witch. So that's what she meant back then… That it was connected to why I was switched.

Still, now wasn't the time to dwell on it.

"That's not important right now," Al snapped. "What the hell do you want from me? Why are you grabbing me like this? Let me go!"

The Agent's expression hardened again. Whatever curiosity he had earlier vanished, replaced by divine indifference.

"You're right," he said calmly. "Who you are doesn't matter anymore. You're just an unfortunate anomaly—someone blessed with power that should never have existed. A disruption to the world's balance."

"So what?" Al shot back.

The Agent smiled faintly, though there was no warmth in it—only judgment.

"It means," he said, his voice echoing like a divine decree, "you were never meant to exist."

From his side, the black energy gathered once again—coalescing into a massive, spiraling spear of pure void, its tip aimed directly at Al's chest.

Al's eyes widened. He could feel the weight of death itself pressing against him. He tried to channel his energy, to fight back, but it was no use—the surrounding space seemed to crush his power, suppressing every spark of resistance.

"Damn it… what are you trying to do?" he muttered through clenched teeth.

The Agent raised a hand, his tone calm but final.

"As you've already guessed… I am the Agent of Death. Death lies within my grasp. And for something that was never meant to exist…" He paused, his eyes glowing. "…Your death is inevitable."

And with a single motion—

The spiral of darkness shot forward.

STAB!

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