On the way to the Temple that the explorers had previously discovered in the forest, Henga was yelling at the Guildmaster, his voice full of rage.
"I told you—it was as good as dead! Why did you send them to die? You're considered one of the strongest Guildmasters, your Guild is in the top 10... how can you still be this stupid!?"
Henga was already regretting his decision to come with them.
"It was only five. Calm down. We're still around eighty Awakened. Losing five won't make things too hard."
The Guildmaster was clearly annoyed that someone had questioned his decision.
"Five lives were lost. When we get back, you better apologize—or you'll have a bigger problem."
Then—screams of horror.
Druids had set up an ambush.
Large, green-black thorny vines whipped out from beneath the underbrush, wrapping around the legs of dozens of adventurers.
Then, the vines began to pull.
Of the eighty, only twenty remained standing.
The Flying Lions' mages panicked and began casting fire spells, setting the forest ablaze. The Druids fled, desperate to protect their Heart-Tree.
Luckily, no one died, but ten were seriously injured.
After the healers patched them up, the Flying Lions pushed forward.
Three long, exhausting hours later, they finally found the Temple.
It was massive—and surprisingly beautiful—but looked like it could collapse at any moment.
"It's already this damaged? We don't have much time. We need to hurry."
Henga looked worried.
If a Temple was destroyed before it was 'cleared,' the world it belonged to couldn't be saved anymore.
Then the ground shook.
The Temple began collapsing right before their eyes.
Five more died—and they failed.
Not because of a monster.
Not because they weren't strong enough.
But because of a stupid Guildmaster... and a Temple lost to time.
"Back to the portal. Now. Or you'll die with this planet."
Henga clenched his fists in frustration. He remembered the explorer who had allegedly died here before.
If he was still alive... he'd die now.
Henga had hoped to bring him back.
As they exited the forest, the sky turned dark.
The air grew thin.
Cracks spread across the ground like veins.
Suddenly, a massive rupture opened beneath Henga.
He fell, screaming for help.
Then—something caught him.
Someone.
It was Nilo.
"Thank you," Henga gasped, still in shock.
"You are...? I don't see the Flying Lions emblem on you."
"The abandoned one, I'd say. Left here to die."
Nilo's voice was bitter—but there was no time for anger now.
"So you really are still alive... When they reported an Earthworm, I immediately thought you weren't dead—just left behind."
Henga gave a small, pained smile.
He had been right.
"Henga... you have to promise me something. If I don't make it back alive—give this to my brother."
Nilo pulled out a god's fragment, placing it in Henga's hands.
Hope, in the form of power.
"By my blood, I promise."
With that, the two began running toward the portal together.
Another world had died.
And now... Earth would suffer too.
Naro was still outside.
He had already walked around the block a few times, but he still couldn't clear his head.
"Maybe I should go to the park," he muttered.
A flying car nearly collided with him.
"Watch it, asshole!" Naro shouted, flipping the driver off.
Even with flying cars, holographic screens, and tech that was considered impossible twenty years ago... people were still idiots.
The park was big—filled with greenery, clean air, and peaceful decorations. The lamps there were especially neat: small glowing orbs that could change color and float around you like fireflies.
Just as Naro was starting to relax, a hologram suddenly flickered to life in front of him.
It was the news.
The Gentha Raid... had failed.
Naro froze.
"So Nilo is... dead now?"
The words felt like glass in his throat. He dropped to his knees.
Then, the next headline:
"The United States is now the next victim of the catastrophe. It will sink in approximately thirteen minutes."
Naro didn't care about that.
Not now. Not anymore.
Then a voice came from behind him.
"He saved my life... I wanted to save his... but he said that with me, we wouldn't be fast enough. He chose my life over his own."
Naro turned, stunned.
It was Henga.
"Henga?" was all he could say.
Henga nodded. "Yeah. I'm really sorry."
He wasn't good at comforting people. He didn't even know Nilo personally.
But after what happened... he wished he had.
"Your brother gave me something for you. I swore—on my blood—that I'd deliver it."
Henga reached into his coat and pulled out a glowing object.
A god's fragment.
"A fragment...? How did he...?"
"I don't know. I only know that I've never seen one radiate with this much energy."
Naro stared at it, speechless.
"It's from a dead god... Wahl—the God of Fate.
There's only one fragment of him."
His hands trembled.
He'd heard the theories—that maybe one could awaken by using a god's fragment.
But he had never truly believed it.
"What is there to lose?" Henga said quietly.
Naro hesitated… then crushing the fragment.
The moment he did it—an explosion of energy burst from it, flowing into him like a tidal wave.
Another hologram appeared, brighter than anything he had seen before:
"You have awakened the power of the dead god Wahl.
And with it... the power Fate."