"I understand that you might still be angry at me for strangling you, but..."
Rio sat calmly in his chair.
A cup of coffee rested in his hand.
His expression remained completely relaxed.
Then his eyes lifted.
A gun was pointed directly at his forehead.
Rio blinked.
"...Isn't this a bit far?"
Across from him—
Clara's hands trembled.
Her breathing was uneven.
"W-Who the hell are you?"
Rio took another sip.
"I thought I already told you."
"My name is Rio Valen."
"N-No..."
Clara gritted her teeth.
How was she supposed to explain this?
The moment he spoke that name—
something reacted.
Something that hadn't activated in months.
Suddenly—
A blue screen appeared before her eyes.
«AUTHOR'S AUTHORITY»
"Narrative Analysis Activated"
Clara's pupils shrank.
The screen flickered repeatedly.
Almost as though it was malfunctioning.
Then words slowly appeared.
Name: Rio Valen
Status: Unknown
Origin: Unknown
Narrative Position: Unknown
The screen paused.
Then new words appeared.
"Searching Original Manuscript..."
"Searching..."
"Searching..."
"Searching..."
Nothing.
No results.
Clara's heart began beating faster.
Impossible.
Every important character should exist inside the manuscript.
Samuel Crimson.
Reinheart Verilian.
Yelena Zephyr.
Silver Ryker.
Even minor side characters.
The Authority possessed records of all of them.
Yet—
Rio Valen didn't exist.
The screen suddenly flashed red
"ERROR"
"ERROR"
"ERROR"
The coffee cup slowly stopped midway toward Rio's lips.
His golden eyes calmly watched her.
The Authority continued.
"Foreign Variable Detected"
"Narrative Classification: Undefined"
"Existence Not Recorded Within The Original Manuscript"
Cold sweat dripped down Clara's neck.
Her grip on the gun tightened.
Then—
one final line appeared.
A line that made her entire body freeze.
«WARNING»
«Subject Possesses Awareness Beyond The Narrative»
Silence filled the restaurant.
Clara stared at Rio.
Rio stared back.
Then—
he smiled.
And for the first time since receiving the Author's Authority—
Clara felt fear.
---
Clara slowly took a deep breath.
The gun lowered.
Though the trembling in her hands hadn't completely disappeared.
"...Let's meet another day."
Her voice was quieter now.
More controlled.
Yet Rio could still hear the unease hidden beneath it.
"Thank you for the meal."
Without waiting for a response—
she turned and left.
Rio remained seated.
What the hell was that?
Of all the things he had told her—
his identity.
His family.
The war.
The fall of Astryx.
Yet somehow—
it was his name that had shaken her.
Rio Valen.
Out of everything he had said—
that should've been the least important.
So why?
Why had she reacted as though she had seen a ghost?
And that look in her eyes...
Fear.
Not surprise.
Not confusion.
Fear.
Rio leaned back in his chair.
His brows furrowed.
What exactly did Clara see?
Before he could continue thinking—
a hand landed on his shoulder.
Rio glanced behind him.
Golden hair.
Onyx eyes.
A familiar smirk.
Reinheart Verilian.
"It seems you're not very good with women."
Rio sighed.
"That's funny coming from you."
Reinheart blinked.
"Huh?"
"I don't know why you still pretend you aren't in love with Yelena."
The prince immediately choked.
A faint blush appeared on his face.
For once—
the usually composed Reinheart looked completely caught off guard.
"Cough."
"W-We can talk about that later."
Rio smirked.
Reinheart quickly changed the topic.
"Anyways."
"I came to inform you about the banquet next week."
"My father hopes the Valen family will attend."
Rio was silent for a moment.
Then he asked,
"Wouldn't the nobles oppose that?"
Reinheart laughed.
A confident smile appeared on his face.
"Relax."
"They wouldn't dare complain in front of him."
Rio immediately understood who he meant.
King Altheris Verilian.
A man whose authority within Verilian was absolute.
The nobles could complain all they wanted behind closed doors.
But standing before him?
Not a chance.
"I see."
Reinheart nodded.
Then slowly turned around.
"Well."
"I'll see you there."
Rio waved him off.
Soon the prince disappeared into the crowd.
Silence returned.
Rio let out a long sigh.
Too many things were happening at once.
Clara.
His Elder brother.
The Demon King of Sloth.
The Kingdom of Eldros.
His hand slowly clenched.
My first priority is Eldros.
A gateway to Hell itself.
Just thinking about it made his head hurt.
Then—
his thoughts drifted back toward Clara.
Another sigh escaped him.
What exactly did you see?
Rio finally stood up.
"Astarax."
"Let's go."
Nearby—
a certain black cat was standing on a table.
The waiter looked on the verge of tears.
Astarax slammed her paw against the table.
"Meow!"
The waiter trembled.
"F-For the last time, ma'am, cats cannot order tea!"
Astarax hissed.
[Human!]
[Bring me another cup immediately!]
The waiter naturally heard nothing except angry meowing.
Rio put a hand on his forehead.
"Why am I not surprised?"
Astarax immediately pointed at the empty teacup.
[H-Human!]
[Tell him to refill it!]
Rio grabbed the cat by the scruff of her neck.
"Come on."
[W-Wait!]
[My tea!]
[Damn you, human!]
Ignoring the furious dragon's protests—
Rio walked out of the restaurant.
For the first time in a while—
a small smile appeared on his face.
The road ahead looked troublesome.
But at least—
it wouldn't be boring.
...
Meanwhile—
within the Kingdom of Eldros.
Deep beneath the royal capital.
Inside a chamber that should not have existed.
A boy hung suspended in the center of a massive magic formation.
Blond hair.
Countless scars.
His body was covered with strange engravings that glowed faintly gold.
Dozens of metal tubes were connected directly into his flesh.
A strange golden liquid flowed through them.
Not blood.
Not mana.
Something far more dangerous.
Artificial divinity.
The boy's body trembled violently.
Yet the researchers merely observed.
A voice echoed throughout the chamber.
"Subject Designation: Raze."
"Divinity Assimilation Rate: 60%."
"Artificial Halo Development: Stable."
"Subject Survival Probability: 73%."
Several figures stood behind a glass wall overlooking the chamber.
One researcher adjusted his glasses.
"Sixty percent."
"He has surpassed every previous candidate."
Another slowly nodded.
"Continue the infusion."
"The Queen's orders are absolute."
"The vessel must reach at least eighty percent."
A woman standing nearby smiled.
"Once the vessel is complete..."
"We will finally possess our own angel."
Silence filled the room.
Then another researcher spoke.
"A being born not from heaven."
"But from humanity."
His eyes gleamed with fanaticism.
"No more prayers."
"No more dependence on gods."
"No more waiting for salvation."
"We will create salvation ourselves."
His gaze fell upon the boy.
Upon Raze.
The vessel.
The foundation.
The first step.
Toward humanity's first artificial angel.
The golden liquid continued flowing.
More and more.
Raze's body convulsed.
Golden cracks spread across his skin.
Light leaked from beneath his eyelids.
The researchers watched with anticipation.
With worship.
With madness.
Then—
for a brief moment—
a faint ring of golden light appeared behind Raze's head.
A halo.
Incomplete.
Unstable.
Yet undeniably real.
The entire room froze.
One researcher fell to his knees.
Another began laughing.
...
As the researchers laughed and celebrated the appearance of the incomplete halo—
a cold voice echoed through the chamber.
"Raise it to eighty-five percent."
The room instantly fell silent.
The researchers froze.
One of them turned around in disbelief.
"S-Sir?"
Standing at the end of the observation room was a tall man dressed entirely in black.
His silver eyes remained fixed on Raze.
Emotionless.
Cold.
As though he wasn't looking at a human being.
But merely an experiment.
The researcher swallowed.
"B-But sir..."
"The survival probability drops below thirty percent at eighty-five."
Another quickly stepped forward.
"The vessel could collapse."
"The artificial divinity could destroy his body."
"We've never pushed a subject that far before."
The man didn't even look at them.
His gaze never left Raze.
"Then let him collapse."
The researchers stiffened.
"W-What?"
He finally turned his head.
Those silver eyes carried no warmth.
No hesitation.
No humanity.
"If he dies."
"We'll create another."
His voice was calm.
As though discussing the weather.
"The Queen did not ask for a successful experiment."
"She asked for an angel."
The room became deathly silent.
No one dared speak.
No one dared object.
The man slowly approached the glass.
Looking down upon the trembling boy.
Golden light continued to spread beneath Raze's skin.
His heartbeat echoed throughout the chamber.
The silver-eyed man spoke one final sentence.
A sentence that sent chills down every researcher's spine.
"An angel is not born through mercy."
"It is forged through sacrifice."
His hand rested against the glass.
"Begin the eighty-five percent infusion."
The researchers exchanged fearful glances.
Yet none dared refuse.
Soon—
the golden liquid flowing through the tubes increased.
Raze's eyes widened.
And for the first time—
a scream echoed throughout the underground chamber.
Golden divinity erupted throughout the laboratory.
BOOM!
The ceiling shattered.
Runes cracked apart.
Entire walls collapsed beneath the pressure.
Researchers screamed as shockwaves swept across the chamber.
Some were thrown into the walls.
Others fell to their knees unable to breathe.
The very mana within the underground facility became chaotic.
Golden light flooded every corner of the laboratory.
Like the birth of a star.
Yet amidst the destruction—
one man stood unmoving.
The silver-eyed researcher.
A smile slowly appeared on his face.
At the center of the chamber—
Raze floated silently.
The restraints had already disintegrated.
The metal tubes connected to his body had melted.
Golden particles danced around him.
His blond hair drifted weightlessly.
Behind him—
two magnificent wings unfolded.
Neither feathered nor entirely made of mana.
They appeared almost translucent.
As though formed from condensed divinity itself.
The laboratory fell silent.
No one dared move.
No one dared speak.
Raze slowly opened his eyes.
Golden.
Cold.
Emotionless.
The moment those eyes opened—
every researcher felt their soul tremble.
It wasn't pressure.
It wasn't bloodlust.
It was something far worse.
A higher existence.
The instinctive fear of mortals standing before something divine.
One researcher collapsed to his knees.
"W-We did it..."
His voice trembled.
"The artificial angel..."
Another began laughing hysterically.
Years.
Decades.
Countless failed experiments.
Thousands of corpses.
And finally—
success.
The silver-eyed man slowly stepped forward.
His gaze remained fixed on Raze.
For the first time—
even he felt excitement.
"Remarkable."
"Synchronization exceeded projections."
The halo above Raze's head flickered.
Unstable.
Incomplete.
Yet undeniably real.
The man smiled.
"Welcome back."
Raze's gaze slowly shifted toward him.
The laboratory temperature dropped.
Then—
the angel spoke.
His voice carried no emotion.
No curiosity.
No confusion.
Only a single question.
"...Who am I?"