Nothing could be seen.

The entire space was drowned in thick grey fog, so dense it could cloud even the greatest Seer known to the universe. The fog rolled upon itself, undulating endlessly like a living storm, as if it possessed a will of its own.

But to speak of the fog was to speak of the space itself, an expanse so vast it stretched to half the size of Laeh, and yet it was only the dwelling of one being.

If one's eyes were special enough, they could pierce through the haze and glimpse a figure — a woman, to be precise — sitting upon a throne of grey stone wrapped in the souls of beings powerful enough to destroy worlds with a mere breath. A ridiculous, suffocating power radiated from her, so immense that the fog itself quivered and bowed in her presence.

Her skin was grey, her body adorned with black tattoos, and she wore a white, immortal-like robe made of gemstones and white xeer — a rare stone found only within her domain — perfectly framing her curvaceous form. Her face was obscured by the fog, committing the crime of hiding her otherworldly beauty from any who dared look. Atop her head were six black horns, engraved with grey runes, circling her like a crown carved by nature itself.

She was looking downward, toward a man.

A human, in every sense of the word.

He stood there with a relaxed smile, facing her. The fog refused to come near him, recoiling as if afraid, despite the fact that he was mortal, in every aspect.

"I have news for you," the man said, his black hair and matching eyes contrasting sharply with the grey world around them. His words rolled lazily off his tongue.

The grey-skinned woman said nothing, but the man knew he had her attention. So he continued.

"You must have sensed that little quiver across the universe not long ago," he began, sliding his hands casually into the pockets of his black trousers. "So you already know something… inconceivable has happened."

He paused, then began to stroll through the mist. The fog split open hurriedly to clear his path. "But what if I told you that it was because of Him?"

For the briefest instant — a moment too fleeting for even Time to record — the entire space trembled. And then, as suddenly as it came, all went still again, as if nothing had ever happened. But the man knew better.

"How do you know?" the woman finally spoke.

Her simple voice made the fog crackle like lightning, ripple like a restless sea, as though the very space could not withstand the weight of its queen's words.

"I tried to see the origin of that event," she said, "but the threads were against me."

The man shrugged lightly. "The threads obey Him. Of course no one would see Him if He wishes to hide."

"This brings me to my first question…" She leaned forward slightly on her throne, her tone low, "How did you know?"

The man paused in his steps, turned his head to look at the grey-skinned woman on the throne, and smirked, "Because I am special." He laughed.

"But my way is not the subject of discussion today, you see? You must know by now that trying to understand me is but a dream."

"And I am here to give you good news, but also bad news." He tilted his head, raising two fingers, "Which one first?"

The grey-skinned woman stayed silent for a moment, then slowly, with a low growl, "Bad news."

CLAP—!

The man clapped theatrically, smile widening, "Perfect! I enjoy giving bad news, you see." He laughed, then continued, "This universe has been gathering too much attention lately. Especially because of the many unnatural events happening here and there."

The woman focused.

His voice turned strangely serious now, "Chances are, there are already beings from other universes sleeping in, doing things that would certainly not benefit you. And that means only problems and doom for all of you."

"Especially for you, girl." He pointed at the grey-skinned woman, "You cannot go on with squabble-politics in this place. Wrap it up, obtain full control, and be ready for the upheaval about to come."

The grey-skinned woman clenched her fists tightly, the fog swirling violently in response to her turbulent emotions.

CLAP! CLAP!

The man clapped again, and the fog immediately stilled. He smiled, "No reason to be so worked up, girl. Let me give you the good news, though I dislike it."

He chuckled, "He has done a ridiculous thing. Something I have never seen." He smirked, "I wonder, between him and that sneaky one who likes to play benevolent, or even the one of fire, who will surprise me more."

His smile turned eager, then continued,

"He will surely come here soon. And he will be able to help you in your endeavor. In that way, you will finally meet the one you sacrificed so much for."

"Am I not a giver of good news?" he asked, then waved it away, "Don't bother, girl. It was rhetorical."

Then his body began to crack, slowly shattering into billions of transparent feathers. "He won't meet me. Too soon. Too, too soon. But tell him to take care of her well. She is my favorite among them, after all."

"Oh! what did he name her again? Pro—? Aye. Nothing comes. My mind failing me." He laughed again.

"Now," he grinned,

"Let our next meeting be more forlor—! Oops, I mean joyous!!"

"Hahahah!" he laughed as he disappeared completely into a storm of feathers, swallowed by the fog, none able to sense him, just as none had sensed him arrive.

The grey-skinned woman did not speak, her gaze still fixed on the spot where the man stood seconds ago.

The fog around her was utterly still, frozen in time.

Slowly, she leaned back in her throne, weariness settling on her features, then raised her face toward the endless grey sky, her expression distant.

'Soon… soon…' she whispered inwardly, before closing her eyes, thinking back to the man's words.

…

Meanwhile, while all of this was happening, on Earth, a rather bizarre event was unfolding high in the blue sky, utterly invisible and undetected to all.

Noah stood there, his silver hair dancing wildly with the wind like a sea of fog, wearing his usual loose shirt and baggy pants, his white eyes fixed on the city of Paris below.

Around him were, of course, all his wives. Some wore skirts and tops, others robes, others jeans, and a few simply pants like Noah himself.

They were all relaxed, yet somehow excited to witness the event about to unfold.

After all, Noah was here to ask Emmie to join him on his journey.

"What are you waiting for?" Aphasia asked, her tone teasing. "Don't tell me the great Noah Vaelgrim is scared?" She chuckled, and the wives around her joined in laughter.

"Don't tease him," Christelle said with a smirk. "It's always harder to meet your ex again, right?"

"Oh? You speaking from experience, maybe?" Ester retorted, stepping in to defend her husband.

She was quickly silenced by her sisters before they continued their relentless teasing, their laughter echoing faintly through the wind.

Noah just stood there, his lips twitching with every word.

Finally, tired, he sighed. "I'm not afraid," he said, shaking his head. "Just wondering if it's a good choice."

He paused, his voice softer. "Sometimes there are things better left as they are. Just as there are things not meant to be."

His gaze sharpened, able to see with harrowing accuracy the woman far below, Emmie, sitting in her house, eating while scrolling on her phone. On the table beside her lay a picture of the two of them together.

The same one he had found on his mother's grave. Though this one was worn, creased, smudged, as if someone had gripped it too tightly or looked at it too often.

Selene appeared beside him, following his gaze.

"What's holding you back?" she asked softly.

The others approached, quiet now, listening.

"Nothing much," he sighed. "Guess I'm just being too hesitant because of my past with her."

"Do you want her? If not, there's no point in all this," Elira said, shrugging.

"I do," Noah answered simply.

"Then that's it," Lilith said with a smile. "That's all you need to do whatever you want."

Noah smiled faintly, listening to them.

He didn't really know why he was hesitating. Maybe because he didn't want to disturb her peaceful life, a life where even the cruelties happening in countries beside hers were nothing but distant stories.

After all, Evadam's work had only just begun, and by the time the results would manifest, Emmie, as a mortal human, would have long passed away.

Introducing her to the supernatural world had to be done delicately. Otherwise, things could turn for the worse.

"Ah well," he said, smiling faintly. "I'll believe in her mental fortitude."

He chuckled softly, then snapped his fingers, summoning her.

And an instant later…

"AHHHHHHHHHHHHHH! I AM FLYING! I AM FLYING!"

'Ah, yes… fuck it.'

—End of Chapter 384—

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