What…?
What was he talking about?
Escape? A favor?
The unknown entity regenerated its arm with a wet, unpleasant sound, as if the flesh had never truly been damaged. Then it began to rise, floating effortlessly in the gray air.
Mist created a row of teeth forming a sharp smile, along with two absolute black eyes.
Nero watched it in complete confusion. He swallowed and asked, his throat tight with a knot:
"What are you?"
"I am a ///////////."
Nero frowned.
He didn't understand anything after "I am a".
Not a syllable. Not an idea.
As if his mind simply refused to process it.
Maybe it's an unknown language… he thought.
The entity seemed to realize it immediately.
"Destiny…" it murmured in a tone Nero didn't hear.
"Well…" it said, sighing.
"You can call me Mistaker.
I am a god. The god of error."
Nero didn't know many gods. Two or three, at most.
And he had definitely never heard of one like that.
"Mist… Mistaker…"
Mistaker began to float slowly through the gray space, as if it belonged to him.
Nero sighed and gave a half-smile. Then he spoke with a slightly mocking tone, more from nerves than courage:
"So what? Are you going to be like that lunatic Zephyr and kill me?"
As soon as the words left his mouth, he covered his lips.
I screwed up.
He had blasphemed, calling a powerful and famous god like Zephyr "lunatic."
Nero lowered his head, waiting for divine punishment.
"Zephyr…" Mistaker murmured.
"No. I won't be like that bastard."
Nero lifted his head, frightened and impressed at the same time. His eyes widened… and he smiled.
Did he just insult a god?
Well, i supposed the only one who could blaspheme a god's name was another god.
"Phew… I can help you and your friends escape. I don't promise you'll come out unscathed, but at least you'll come out alive."
"And what do you gain from that?"
Nero realized too late that his tone had been aggressive.
"S-Sorry, my god."
Blaspheming so much in a single day was bad for my future.
"If I weren't a 'kind' god, you'd already be dead or worse."
Why did he say kind like that?
Mistaker sighed and shook his head. He looked tired. Then he raised his hand and opened his palm.
Nero held his breath.
Is he going to make it explode again?
A black energy expanded from the tips of his fingers to the center of his palm. Then it shot outward, floating with unnatural freedom.
Wow… Nero thought.
The energy stretched, twisted, and took shape: tunnels, cells, fields, rooms.
The catacombs.
This is the power of a god…
Nero felt small… and blessed.
"Let's make a deal. I'll tell you how to kill Reveli and how to escape the catacombs."
That last part completely caught Nero's attention.
"I'll only ask you for one favor. Do you remember the spell grimoire?"
Nero searched his mind and recalled the ritual manual.
He nodded.
"I want you to perform the Ritual of the Black Tide."
Nero nodded again, without giving it much importance.
"Okay…"
Mistaker sighed and pointed at the floating model of the catacombs.
Nero followed the direction of his finger and observed the object suspended in the gray air. It wasn't just a static representation: small lights moved through the tunnels, marking routes, active zones… and something else.
Nero narrowed his eyes.
"That wasn't there before…"
Mistaker didn't respond immediately.
Nero stepped closer, ignoring the fear still crawling up his spine. Then he saw it clearly: more fields. Many more than they had seen from the high point. Endless rows, stretching far beyond what should have been possible underground.
"There are… more harvest fields," he murmured.
His voice sounded dry.
Mistaker nodded slowly.
"Many more," he confirmed.
"What you saw is only the surface layer."
Nero clenched his teeth.
"How many people…?"
"Too many," Mistaker replied emotionlessly.
"And it will keep increasing."
Nero clenched his fists.
"All that to feed Reveli…"
Mistaker rotated slightly in the air.
"Not exactly."
Nero looked up.
"Reveli doesn't feed on bodies," Mistaker explained.
"He feeds on the suffering of others and his own."
He paused.
"On errors, in short."
That's what you like most, god of error… Nero thought, his stomach tightening.
"Then tell me," he said in a low but firm voice. "How do I kill him?"
Mistaker watched him for a few seconds too long.
"To kill Reveli," he began, "you need the power of Zephyr's former body."
Nero's heart skipped a beat.
"What?"
Mistaker raised one finger.
"Not the Zephyr you know.
Not the god who rules now."
The model changed. A new silhouette appeared, fragmented, incomplete.
"The previous body," he continued.
"The one that was abandoned when he fully ascended."
Nero frowned.
"A… god's body?"
"A vessel," Mistaker corrected.
"One that still retains authority."
Nero slowly shook his head.
"That's insane."
"Reveli is not a normal enemy," Mistaker replied. "He is an artificial spirit."
Nero raised his head.
"Artificial?"
"Created," Mistaker said. "By a demigod named Ecous, who was Zephyr's son."
The name fell heavily.
"Ecous didn't create Reveli to control," Mistaker continued. "He created him to rule."
The model displayed repeating symbols, circular patterns.
"Reveli is a puppet," he said.
"A spiritual function designed to maintain stability… at any cost."
Nero swallowed.
"That's why he doesn't die."
"Exactly," Mistaker nodded.
"He doesn't have his own soul. He has purpose."
Nero closed his eyes for a second.
"So the power of Zephyr's former body…"
"Is the only authority capable of overwriting that purpose," Mistaker finished.
"A divine error against a perfect system."
Nero opened his eyes.
"And where is that body?"
Mistaker smiled.
It wasn't a kind smile.
"Closer than you think," he said.
"And far more buried than it should be."
Silence fell again.
Nero looked once more at the model of the catacombs, now aware of something new.
They weren't just trapped.
They were standing on a divine corpse.
And if Mistaker was telling the truth…
Killing Reveli meant using the power of a 'dead' god.
Nero moved closer to the model, his red eyes memorizing every location and escape route.
Convenient… very convenient.
Will he really give me a way to kill that bastard Reveli and escape the catacombs just for performing a ritual?
Besides, I've never heard of a demigod named Ecous, much less that Zephyr had a son.
Nero looked away from the model and stared at Mistaker.
This man, woman, or god is planning something…
What does he want from me… a simple, weak, powerless rank 11?
Mistaker observed Nero with clear intrigue.
From what I know of the Sinner system, a god is rank 1, and I'm rank 11… that's a ten-rank difference!
By the gods…
Nero rubbed his temples, as if a vicious migraine were slowly devouring him.
Mistaker watched him with an arrogant smile on his face.
"Do you remember when you woke up…" he said, analyzing the face of the red-eyed one.
Nero looked confused. He tried to remember something, but failed.
Mistaker sighed, unsettled.
He composed himself and said mockingly, "I was the one who told you 'So… you've awakened,' when you woke up."
Nero tilted his head. He remembered that something—or someone—had spoken to him that day, but he didn't remember what was said.
His head filled with gaps.
Mistaker had an epiphany. He looked slightly annoyed and murmured with displeasure:
"It must have been Forsaken…"
Forsaken and Destiny? Who are they? Are they gods?
Nero filled with questions he refused to ask, knowing that information was dangerous.
"To escape, you only need two things," Mist said, filling himself with determination.
He raised one finger and said firmly:
"1. Kill Reveli."
A chill ran down Nero's spine.
Mistaker raised a second finger.
"2… purify a fragment of Zephyr."
Nero froze, as if his very soul refused to react. His mouth opened and closed, his eyes blinking in disbelief.
A fragment of Zephyr? Of the god Zephyr!
The one who, according to the myths and legends proclaimed by the Church of Wind, was capable of destroying a mountain with a simple command!
All because the mountain blocked his view…
At least it's just a fragment…
Mistaker cleared his throat.
"To purify that specific fragment, a person must fight a Dark Knight, which is the representation of one third of Zephyr's evil."
Nero smiled in fear.
"Seriously…" he said, feeling his body tense.
I want to die… Nero showed an expression of pure fulfillment.
"And if I don't perform the ritual?" Nero asked, looking at Mistaker with intrigue.
"Well…" Mist said, "first I'll imprison you in a parallel dimension, where I'll kill you an infinite number of times and make you relive your worst moments."
How kind of you, god…
Mistaker smiled.
"I think you should leave now…"
Nero nodded.
The red-eyed man's body began to disintegrate. He didn't feel even the slightest pain; in fact, he didn't feel anything at all.
Mistaker smiled one last time and said:
"I could always read your mind."
Nero couldn't feel a chill run through his body—because he had no body.
…
Nero opened his eyes.
What just happened?
Mistaker, a god—or whatever that thing was—had just contacted him. And not only that, he had also made a contract that seemed to benefit him, but hid a sinister trap.
He read my mind like I was an open book.
I also discovered that my memory was erased.
Nero scoffed at his own misfortune.
He got up from the stone bed, still somewhat drowsy.
"Activate."
He let his aura flow freely as he looked at the sleeping Merlin with a smile.
In his mind, the image of a large sewing needle formed.
Nero smiled with the malice of a cartoon villain.
The needle appeared in his right hand.
Its tip was long, and the lower part was round with a circular opening.
The needle pierced barely one centimeter.
It was enough.
Merlin's eyes snapped open as he bolted upright with a sharp gasp, pain shooting through his arm.
"WHAT THE HELL—?!"
Nero was already standing, two steps back, with a dangerous smile on his face.
"Good morning," he said far too calmly.
Merlin grabbed the spot where he'd been pricked, glaring at him.
"Are you sick?" he growled. "Did they wake you up with beatings as a kid or what?"
"I needed you awake quickly," Nero replied, making the needle disappear as if it had never existed.
Merlin frowned.
That wasn't normal magic.
"Quickly for what?" he asked, lowering his voice.
Nero stared at him.
"Because we talk now… or we die later."
The silence lasted barely a second.
Merlin sighed, running a hand over his face.
"I hate it when you say that," he muttered as he stood up. "It always means trouble."
They left the stone room without making a sound. The catacombs' corridors were quiet—too quiet. Only the echo of their footsteps accompanied them.
When they reached room A1, Nero carefully pushed the door open.
Inside, Sunday slept leaning against the wall, arms crossed. Kori sat on the floor, wrapped in an improvised blanket. Lux rested nearby, one hand still close to his weapon, even in sleep.
Nero snapped his fingers softly.
"Up."
Sunday opened one eye.
"Five more minutes…"
Nero looked at him expressionlessly.
"Reveli. Harvest fields. Gods."
Sunday sat up instantly.
"I'm awake."
Lux lifted his head sharply.
"What happened?"
Kori watched Nero closely.
Nero ran a hand through his hair.
"I'll explain later," he said. "First, listen."
He turned to all of them.
"Reveli isn't just a creature," he said in a low voice. "He's an artificial spirit created by a demigod."
That alone tensed the atmosphere.
"Demigod?" Lux repeated.
"Ecous," Nero continued. "Zephyr's son."
Merlin raised his eyebrows.
"That's… serious."
"I know."
Nero took a deep breath.
"To get out of here, we need two things."
He raised one finger.
"One: kill Reveli."
No one spoke.
He raised the second.
"Two: purify a fragment of Zephyr."
Sunday let out an incredulous laugh.
"Oh, sure," he said. "And after that, we kill the sun?"
Nero didn't smile.
"That fragment is protected by something called the Dark Knight."
Kori swallowed.
"What is that?"
Merlin answered before Nero.
"A conceptual representation," he said tensely. "Not a monster. An idea made flesh."
Nero nodded.
"One third of Zephyr's evil."
Room A1 fell silent after Nero's last words.
Sunday was the first to break it.
"And who told you all that?" he asked, eyes locked on Nero. "Because that's not something you deduce by intuition."
Nero opened his mouth.
"My—"
A sharp pain tore through his skull.
Sudden. Brutal.
Nero grabbed his temple and staggered back, teeth clenched. The air grew dense, as if something invisible were crushing his throat from the inside.
"Nero?" Kori said, alarmed.
He tried again.
"There's… someone who—"
The pain returned, worse.
His vision fractured for a second. A high-pitched ringing filled his ears, accompanied by an icy sensation crawling over his tongue.
Nero shut his mouth hard.
He breathed deeply.
He couldn't.
He wasn't allowed.
Lux frowned.
"Did someone do something to you?" he asked, hand moving toward his weapon.
Nero slowly raised his gaze.
"I can't say it," he finally admitted. His voice was firm, but held something else—caution. "And it's not an empty threat. If I try to force it… something shuts me up."
Merlin observed him with surgical focus.
"It's not a vow," he murmured. "It's a restriction."
Nero nodded.
"Exactly."
Sunday clicked his tongue.
"Great. Gods, demigods, invisible rules… what's next?"
Nero stepped forward.
"What's next is that you trust me."
They all looked at him.
"I'm not asking for blind faith," he continued. "Or for you to believe in visions or voices. I'm giving you facts."
He raised his hand and began counting.
"One: Reveli doesn't die because he has no soul. He has a function."
"Two: the harvest fields aren't farms. They're batteries of suffering."
"Three: if we keep going like this, we die. It's not a possibility. It's a certainty."
The silence grew tense.
Kori spoke first.
"And how do you know all that?" she asked carefully.
Nero looked at her.
"Because someone wants me to make a mistake," he replied. "And that much power is only invested… when the reward is big."
Merlin smiled faintly.
"That does sound coherent."
Lux slowly lowered his hand from his weapon.
"If it were a lie, he wouldn't be shaking when he tries to explain it."
Sunday sighed.
"Damn it…"
He ran a hand through his hair and looked at Nero.
"Fine. Let's say we believe you."
Nero held his gaze.
"No," he corrected. "Don't believe me."
He pointed at the ground.
"Follow me. Observe. Verify."
A faint vibration shook the walls.
Something moved beneath them.
"Reveli won't wait for us," Nero said. "And the next harvest field… could be this one."
The group fell silent.
Not because they were convinced.
But because, for the first time, Nero spoke like someone who had already accepted the weight of deciding.
Merlin stepped forward.
"Then lead," he said. "But if you lie to us—"
Nero met his eyes.
"I won't," he replied. "Because I can't afford another mistake."
And somewhere beyond the gray space—
Something smiled.