The Creators moved simultaneously.
White light engulfed Arou.
The Anti-Rule within him was suppressed, separated, and forcibly erased.
Arou dropped to his knees.
Pain surged through his body—sharp and suffocating.
"Argh…!" Arou groaned, his breathing becoming ragged.
He could no longer feel either of his arms.
The glowing figures stared at him without emotion.
"Now…"
"Do you believe that we are God?"
Arou slowly raised his head.
Despite his battered body, his gaze remained unwavering.
"No," he said quietly but firmly.
"I… still refuse to acknowledge you."
Silence briefly filled the cosmic space.
Then—
A familiar voice echoed.
"Arou."
Another light appeared.
Zata stood beside him.
"Are you alright?" Zata asked.
Arou gave a weak smile.
"I'm… still alive."
The Creators turned toward Zata.
"Finally… you have appeared."
Zata stepped forward.
"I was moved because of Arou," he declared.
"I came here because of Arou."
His eyes began to glow.
"And now—"
"I DEFY YOU… FOR AROU!!"
Arou was startled.
"Zata…?"
Zata turned toward him and smiled.
"You are the hero of us all."
He placed his hand against Arou's chest.
The light trembled violently.
Arou and Zata shouted together—
"MERGE!!"
A massive burst of light erupted.
Two existences became one.
Their souls, wills, and narratives merged together.
And from that union—
Zao was born.
The perfect version.
The Creators immediately moved.
"Erase the Anti-Rule."
White light struck Zao.
Failed.
"Repeat the erasure."
Failed.
Again.
Still failed.
Zao chuckled softly.
"Hehehe…"
"What are you trying to do, fake gods?"
"We are God," the Creators replied.
"We are the ones who created you."
Zao stepped forward.
"There is only one God," he said coldly.
"And that position cannot be replaced."
His gaze sharpened.
"Especially not by beings like you."
At that moment—
the Creators realized something.
Something they had realized far too late.
Zata was not their creation.
Zata was Arou's creation.
Because his creator was being cornered,
Zata had risen and chosen to defy them.
And most importantly—
Zata possessed an undeniable Anti-Rule.
He was a being capable of defeating entities with higher titles than himself.
The realization struck them.
Then came another fact—
one they had previously considered impossible.
Zata could take over their role.
He could pull everything that existed outside the narrative—
bring it into the narrative—
and weaken it from within.
The cosmic space trembled.
For the first time—
the Creators felt fear.
And Zao…
simply smiled.
---
The cosmic space shook violently.
The Creators' white light began to crack, becoming unstable unlike before.
Zao stood firmly in the middle of the void, his aura calm—far too calm for a being who had just been attacked by its creators.
One of the Creators spoke, but this time, its voice no longer sounded absolute.
"This… should not be happening."
Zao slowly stepped forward.
Every step he took caused the space around him to rewrite itself.
"Should?" Zao repeated quietly.
"You have believed for far too long that 'should' is a law."
He raised his hand.
"When in reality… it is merely a one-sided decision."
The Creators attempted to move simultaneously.
Their white light merged, forming an absolute command.
"Total Erasure.
Target: Zao."
The cosmic narrative collapsed.
Yet—
nothing happened.
Zao was still standing there.
Even the light around him had begun to darken, as though their narrative were being devoured from within.
Zao smiled faintly.
"You forgot one thing."
He looked at them one by one.
"I am not outside the narrative."
"I am above the way you write it."
Zao moved his hand.
It was not an attack.
It was not destruction.
He simply pulled something.
Suddenly, the Creators' light was restrained, as though caught by invisible threads.
"What are you doing…?"
"Stop!"
Zao answered calmly.
"I am only doing what Zata could do from the beginning."
"Bringing what exists outside… inside."
One by one, the Creators were pulled into the very narrative structure they had created themselves.
Once they entered—
their light weakened.
Their hierarchy collapsed.
Their titles lost their meaning.
They were no longer "creators."
They were merely entities within a story.
And Zao—
was its writer.
One of the Creators fell to its knees.
"We… did not intend for things to go this far…"
Zao stopped in front of it.
"Every creator says the same thing," he said flatly.
"After their creation begins to rebel."
He raised his hand.
But stopped.
Zao fell silent for a moment.
Arou's memories surfaced—
Airi.
Lin.
Nora.
The friends who were missing.
"I am not like you," he said quietly.
"I do not erase because I am afraid."
He lowered his hand.
"I end things because the time has come."
Light surrounded the Creators.
They were not erased.
They were not destroyed.
They were sealed.
Frozen within a single page of the narrative—
with no ability to alter anything ever again.
Silence returned.
The cosmos stabilized.
Zao stood alone.
Slowly, the light surrounding his body faded.
The two voices became one again.
Zata appeared beside Arou.
"Looks like… it's over," he said.
Arou nodded slowly.
"For them, yes."
Zata smiled.
"But for you… your journey has only just begun."
Arou stared into the void.
"Angelica," he murmured.
"And everyone else who hasn't returned…"
The space before them began to pulse.
A new path opened.
Not a dream.
Not the old narrative.
But—
a path written by Arou himself.
Zata patted his shoulder.
"Come on, King."
Arou stepped forward.
And in the real world—
something began to change.
Arou's consciousness returned.
He was lying beside a road.
His body felt heavy.
Slowly, he opened his eyes—
and the world before him was not the world he had left behind.
The sky was gray.
Dust drifted through the air.
Buildings had collapsed into countless pieces.
There were no screams anymore.
Only the silence of death remained.
"What…?" Arou's breath caught.
"What happened…?"
He hurriedly got to his feet.
The streets around him were destroyed.
Rubble covered everything that had once stood there.
No one moved.
There was no sound of life.
Arou's heart began pounding.
"No… no… no…"
He ran.
His feet nearly stumbled over the debris, but he did not care.
He was heading toward one place.
His home.
When Arou arrived—
he stopped abruptly.
His house… had been reduced to rubble.
The walls had collapsed.
The roof was destroyed.
Nothing remained recognizable.
Arou stood frozen.
"My home…" His voice trembled.
He immediately fell to his knees and began removing the rubble piece by piece with trembling hands.
"Airi… Lin… Nora…"
"Please answer me…"
He lifted one piece of debris.
Then another.
And there—
he saw them.
Lin.
Airi.
Nora.
They lay motionless.
Blood stained their heads.
Their faces were pale.
Arou froze.
"No…" he whispered.
"No… this can't be…"
He gently shook Lin.
There was no response.
He turned to Airi.
Still silent.
Nora… remained motionless.
Arou pressed against their chests, searching for signs of breathing.
Nothing.
It felt as though the air had been ripped from his lungs.
"Wake up…" His voice cracked.
"Please… wake up…"
There was no answer.
At that moment—
every power he had ever possessed felt meaningless.
Arou collapsed among them.
His hands trembled.
His eyes burned.
Then tears finally fell.
One.
Then another.
Until they could no longer be stopped.
"Why…" he sobbed.
"I already won… I came back…"
"Why was I too late…?"
Arou's cries echoed through the ruins.
No one answered.
No one comforted him.
Only a King—
standing in an empty world,
having lost everything.
And for the first time—
Arou wished that all of this was nothing more than a dream.