"Hey… are you alright?"
The Wraith Guardian asked as he looked at me—my body sprawled across a small boat drifting along the river.
"GUH—! Cough!"
I clutched my throat, choking as if I'd swallowed water, then forced myself upright.
"What the hell…? Why was I—"I opened my eyes and stared straight at him while scanning my surroundings.
The Wraith Guardian was rowing the boat. The lantern was set aside, and he gently moved his arm—if it could be called that—to paddle.
"You lost consciousness when I mentioned your Black Heaven Core,"his voice was soft—yet strangely captivating.
"Bullshit!"
I lunged forward, trying to grab his cloak, but my hand passed straight through it.The fabric dispersed—and reformed instantly.
"…Close enough," he said calmly."More precisely, you witnessed your True Core—but that was not yet the Black Heaven Core."
"What do you mean, True Core? Mana core?""Forget it—where the hell are we going?!"
I needed to calm down.Anger was crawling up my spine.
I took a deep breath and muttered to myself:
'Calm down, Ron. You don't need to lose your mind over some moody guide.'
I looked around.
Surrounding the boat was a river glowing like starlight—colors flowing and blending into one another like waves crashing endlessly.
The river carried a strange, enchanting beauty, as if it were luring, hypnotizing everything into merging with it.
"We are searching for Black Heaven," the Guardian said."Black Heaven of this place—within the Abyssal Prison."
He spoke—he, or she… whatever. I'll call it he.There was one rule, after all:
A Guide may not harm a Walker in any way.
So I reluctantly followed him—but still…
"…"
'Another pile of things that never existed in my novel. I really thought I'd written this world thoroughly.'
Silence slowly swallowed everything.
Only the sound of the oar and the rippling water remained.
Both of us stayed quiet, while I replayed everything that had happened.
'So that was a star core… but why does it feel wrong? There's nothing in it I can understand.'
I sank into thought, trying to force connections—between this place, the novel, my past, and the past of the original Ron Irus.
…
The sky remained pitch-black—or rather, a vast cavern ceiling shrouded in darkness.
Below it stretched a kingdom of lights, filled with countless tiny stars.
This was the Realm of the Dead—a domain where departed souls were retained.A graveyard of spirits.
I had entered through a gate, and now I needed to reach the Abyssal Prison,the place where Abyssal Souls—vengeful dead—were confined.
'Or at least, that's what that bastard told me.'The awkward silence was unbearable, so I finally questioned him directly—about this place, about the Black Heaven Core.
"Your core is not something I understand," he replied flatly."I am not alive—I have no need to understand such things.I only guide you."
"This place is the Abyssal Prison. That is all you need to know."
"…Still, I will explain some things.After all, this place considers you an honored guest."
"…Mind if I smoke?"I asked, pulling out an old, rusted lighter.
"…Do you think I would mind?"He lifted the lantern toward the void beneath his hood.
Of course—there was nothing there.
"…Basic courtesy," I muttered bluntly.
Fwoosh.
White smoke blew straight into the Guardian's face—as if he were nothing but air.
He had no face, but I was fairly sure he was glaring at me like a starving dog.
I had nothing to fear from him.And I didn't care anymore about whatever I saw inside the True Core.
I'd already witnessed far stranger things than him.
'Take it, you self-righteous bastard.'
…
"Do you wish to see Black Heaven?"The Guardian asked while rowing.
I frowned, slowly raising my hand to my face.
I had come here because of my body—but now I was being dragged into searching for Black Heaven, something I only knew through his words.
I looked down at my decayed, necrotic arm and swallowed.
"Then tell me what Black Heaven is—and what it does."
"You will understand when you encounter it," he replied."I do not know. I only know that one such as you will need it."
"Then why did you force me into the True Core?""I didn't even get a choice."
Thud.
Something hit the wooden floor.
I frowned and looked down.
A tooth.
"…Fuck!"
I quickly reached for my mouth—one by one, my teeth fell out, leaving me toothless.
"For one already rotting and undergoing necrosis,"the Guardian said calmly,"it is best to find a Black Heaven and merge your True Core into a Black Heaven Core."
"I merely helped you locate your True Core.You would have had to do it eventually—sooner is better."
I didn't know what to say.
I never expected Black Heaven to be the solution to my condition.
No—I remembered clearly.
In the novel, there was only one thing capable of halting my body's decay.
"To fix my body, I need a Royal-grade biological zone, don't I?""So why Black Heaven? Is that just another name for it?"
"I have never lied to you," he answered calmly."I have no need to. I am not human."
"You are an honored guest. That is all."
My face twitched.
'So either there are multiple ways to halt the decay… or the novel is wrong.'
In the story, the protagonist had entered this place and gathered many things—including what I needed.
But there was only one method described as effective.
"…Why are you so certain?""Were you deceived by someone?"
Silence answered me.
"…"
"Haah…"
Whoooosh.
My sigh carried an icy wind—something that had never existed here before.
I tensed instantly.
"Hee…"The Guardian let out a mocking sound and pointed upward.
"The hell—"
I looked up.
The sky began to glow.
Above me unfolded light, sound—a city.
An inverted city.
"Welcome to the Abyssal Prison,"the Guardian said cheerfully, like a tour guide.
"We also call it by another name—Inverted Hell Isle,where sinners live."
And above that—
A colossal ancient stone statue stood upside down,holding the entire city from below—or above.
Chains wrapped around its arms.Its entire body was covered in threads—
No.Chains woven into a torn, rag-like shroud.
"And that," the Guardian continued softly,"is the statue created by the king of this land."
I stood there, eyes wide, neck craned upward, thinking only one thing:
'Did I… write this?'