When his gaze fell upon it, Cyn suddenly felt an inner emptiness he had never known before— as if his entire awareness had shivered before something far greater than himself, something with no shape, no body, and no echo one could comprehend.

The terror didn't come from what he understood, but from the sense of a presence that imposed itself on everything: the air around him grew heavy, the space between the two skies thickened, the glassy ground beneath his feet trembled for no reason, and everything seemed to breathe with that entity.

It wasn't traditional fear; it wasn't dread of a specific threat. It was the vague realization that the universe itself had shifted suddenly, and that he was nothing but a weak spectator before a force that surpassed understanding. Every cell in his body felt small, fragile, insignificant— and that something beyond all laws of nature had arrived, something he could not fully see, nor grasp, nor confront.

The echo of the voice inside his head returned once more in that same lofty tone:

"Scar of Pride. The Great Sin of Arrogance. My refined essence— no one stands above me. Do you understand this, Cyn? I am something unfathomable. Something metaphysical. Something unworthy of being owned or used by anyone. Something that rises above all. That… is what I am."

His perception betrayed him. Cyn didn't know what he had witnessed in that vast space— what that thing was. It wasn't a form, not physical, not spiritual. It was illusion and emptiness. His senses failed him. His feelings did too.

But his mind responded just a little. He recognized that sensation… he had felt it before, the first time he told Xyrene about his feelings:

I feel lust for god!"

It hadn't come from him. It wasn't his own emotion.

It was something emanating from the Scar of Pride itself— from that Sin, from that voice— something influencing him, making him like it.

As if Cyn was drawing strength from another empty, abstract force, he pulled himself together. He didn't want to look at his reflection.

He didn't want to lower his gaze.

He didn't want to bow his head.

He didn't want to look down.

He didn't want to desire something as low as the Lower Sky.

His head gradually lifted upward— toward the Upper Sky, to witness it for the first time, the ceiling of his ambition… the ceiling of the Scar's ambition… the feeling it possessed, the feeling it shared with the Scar of Pride:

Lusting After God.

As if neither of them wished to remain trapped between the two skies.

As if they wanted to climb the Upper Sky and beyond— to a place only the two of them existed, with no third.

A sense of grandeur. A sense of madness.

Cyn's reaction astonished the Scar of Pride.

That reaction forced it to admit:

"Ahahahahahahahaha— yes! That's what I want! Cyn! You—you—you—you!

There lies salvation! There lies self-realization! There— that's where you must reach!

There you will find your true self!

There we shall meet Him! There, at the final banquet, we will—"

Before he could finish, another voice slipped into Cyn's mind— a warm voice that forced him back to reality.

The voice from before:

"Gian!"

The next second, Cyn heard the loud grumbling of his stomach— grooowwl. Hunger.

But that wasn't what concerned him.

It was where he found himself:

The lab.

Except… there was no lab left to speak of.

Everything was destroyed.

Cyn was completely naked, stained in blood, and every muscle in his body throbbed as if he had fought a lethal battle against some creature. His fists were torn and bleeding— as though he had struck something over and over without stopping.

The cavern that held his lab was collapsing.

Everything was falling apart.

Everything looked as if a bomb had blown the place open.

Cyn knew he had to escape quickly, though his body resisted moving.

"Damn it…!"

He had to move.

Was this what the Scar meant when it said he would understand once he awakened?

All of this began when he injected himself with the Scar's blood.

With great difficulty, Cyn climbed out of the pit and the cavern.

The dawn's light hovered on the horizon, a cold breeze brushed past, and the smell of the sea filled the air.

Despite the pain, Cyn didn't stop— because he saw people with torches approaching from afar.

He forced himself to move even though he could barely walk.

He escaped toward the outer districts of the Royal Capital.

Cyn was panting, blood pouring from his wounds, feeling strangled.

"Even if I wanted to return to the palace, I can't show up like this!

Damn it— where do I go!?"

Suddenly Cyn remembered something.

In his meeting with Kassal and Miguel, Kassal mentioned buying taverns and restaurants on the northern side of the capital. He could head there.

Especially since it wasn't far— but he needed someone to get him there.

Cyn glanced at the scar on his chest—

except the surprise waiting for him:

It wasn't there.

The Scar was nowhere to be seen.

Cyn stared blankly.

He had no idea what happened.

The voice had told him it could hide the scar in certain situations— was this one of them?

He didn't know.

But he had to keep going.

---

Dust rose from the cavern's opening— the former entrance.

People carrying torches surrounded it, shocked, as if they hadn't expected this.

One of them spoke:

"Could they have discovered us already?"

Their conversation continued— frustration, disappointment.

They hadn't come for this.

Others suspected something else:

"No… someone betrayed us. It's obvious."

More murmurs.

But the man corrected himself quickly:

"What I mean is— whoever supplied us with this intel betrayed us this time and gave us false information. That's why—"

"Silence."

Silence fell over the group.

The two men in formal suits who led the squad were Valgean Fork and Tristan Arrow.

Numbers 6 and 7 of the Raging Floods Guild under Chibi, the person Kassal had talked about.

They were here on a mission.

Valgean studied the paper in his hand— a map leading to what was supposed to be the lab.

But when they arrived, everything was destroyed.

Still, they could enter and investigate.

Tristan, dark-skinned with white hair, spoke:

"I doubt that man would betray us— not at this point. He hasn't reached his goal, and neither have we. Maybe the other side discovered our plan. I won't brag, but our plans aren't flawless either. James hasn't been at his best, and you all know how Mr. Chibi is, so—"

Valgean cut him off—

the large old man with silver hair and a gray beard:

"There's still time before the cavern collapses."

Everyone swallowed hard.

They knew exactly what he meant:

He wanted them to go inside the unstable cavern and follow the path.

To uncover what was inside—

even though it was madness. The cave could fall on them at any second.

One follower protested:

"But Sir Valgean, the cavern—!"

Valgean grabbed him by the mouth with one hand and lifted him into the air.

"Did you not hear me?

I'm the one giving orders here.

Even if I asked you to die right now, you would obey.

Or did you forget the doctrine?

What if the cavern collapses on you?

What if you die inside?

What if you survive?

Will anything change!?

Does your existence alter anything in this reality!?"

The man froze.

He couldn't move.

He couldn't answer.

Because Valgean was right—

their lives or deaths didn't matter.

They were secondary characters— mere followers.

Their fate didn't matter in the slightest.

Valgean smiled as he looked up the hill—

a cold breeze, the deep blue of early morning, faint light.

He rotated the man to face the hill's peak:

"The cavern is still holding, and the faster you move, the higher your chances of survival.

Or would you rather stay here— where your chances of living are zero?"

Valgean offered his subordinates a choice:

"So— will you enter the cavern, follow the map, and bring back anything useful?

Or do you prefer staying here and facing those bastards from the Exodus Club?"

At the top of the hill, shapes formed in the air—

a half-moon arc of dim light.

Silhouettes cloaked in night.

Four figures in black robes appeared, surrounded by a faint blue aura.

One of them spoke:

"Salvation comes with The Exodus.

And for you, bearers of scars— salvation comes when the scars depart your bodies."

Tristan scoffed:

"These obsessed freaks tracked us here too."

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