Moonlight shimmered across the surface of Lunar Lake—still as a mirror, hauntingly beautiful. Jin stood silently at the water's edge, his long coat brushing against the dew-kissed grass. Behind him, Velka approached slowly, hesitant, her golden hair glinting under the pale glow.
Jin glanced sideways.
"You came."
Velka folded her arms, feigning composure.
"Don't flatter yourself. I came for them," she said, nodding toward the lake. Her voice softened.
They stood in silence.
The lake was where Aurelion, Orion, Kaelis, and Selira's souls rested—free at last.
Jin looked down at the water and whispered,
"I'm sorry, Velka. For creating this. For the weight you carry. And… thank you—for telling me to go to the Western Temple. If you hadn't…"
A memory returned—he had been about to leave for the temple when Velka's telepathy reached him: "You will gain something that will change you. It will help you find enemies who wear kind faces."
"And for the hints you whispered into my mind… thank you."
She looked at him, her eyes unreadable. Then, suddenly, she jabbed a finger into his chest.
"You idiot. Always doing things alone. Always thinking you have to carry the world like some tragic protagonist with god-tier hair."
Jin smirked, running a hand through it.
"It is pretty good hair. Abyssal conditioner. Top tier."
Velka rolled her eyes but couldn't help the faint smile.
"You're not the only one hurting, Jin. But you gave peace to souls no one else could reach… even my master." Her voice wavered. "So yeah. I forgive you."
A weight Jin hadn't even known he was carrying slipped from his shoulders. He gave a crooked smile.
"Thanks. That means a lot… coming from the second most terrifying woman I know."
Velka raised an eyebrow.
"Second?"
"Yeah. Lia still takes first. She once threw a frying pan at my head for calling her 'cute when angry.' I swear—I nearly saw the Soul Realm."
They both chuckled—briefly, softly. Then, silence returned, reverent and heavy.
After she left, Jin closed his eyes. A faint sigh escaped him.
And when he opened them—
He wasn't by the lake anymore.
The dream realm—the Sea of Consciousness—shimmered into focus. A place of timeless twilight. Floating stones. Silent winds. A realm between memory and identity.
He stood again before the vision that had once haunted him.
A mysterious figure stood tall—twisted black horns, dark armor beneath a flowing black cloak, and glowing violet eyes within his helmet. Black-purple energy radiated from him in measured waves.
"His energy… it's refined. Controlled. Calmer than mine… even more than Aurelion's. There's no doubt—he is…"
Zenex. The First Whisper.
Zenex turned, a crooked grin forming.
"You again. You've got a real knack for showing up at the most dramatic times."
Jin chuckled, hands in his pockets.
"Hey, I've got a flair for theatrics. Comes with the Abyss."
They faced each other like mirrors—separated by time, bound by fate.
Zenex tilted his head.
"So… what now, my reincarnation? What's your grand plan?"
Jin looked him in the eye.
"I'm going to the Soul Realm. I'll revive Lia. My friends. Everyone who died… because of me."
Zenex's grin faded. Silence passed between them.
"Good," he said at last. "Then let me do my part."
A pulse of radiant light—white-gold laced with black and violet—surged from Zenex's chest, pouring into Jin like a forgotten heartbeat. Jin gasped, dropping to one knee as the sky split above them in swirling spirals of void and flame.
His hair lengthened, turning snowy white. His eyes burned crimson. His robes transformed—an elegant dark coat adorned with ancient glyphs, flowing like sentient shadow.
The power of the First Whisper awakened—fully, finally.
"Whoa," Jin muttered. "This… feels illegal."
Zenex crossed his arms.
"Welcome to godhood. Just don't let it go to your head—literally. I once created this realm just because I liked the sound of a whisper."
"Sounds lonely."
Zenex's eyes dimmed.
"It was. That's why I'm glad it's you."
Jin rose—taller, stronger… changed. He glanced at his new reflection, lifting a strand of his white hair.
"Do I look… taller?"
"No," Zenex said flatly.
"Damn."
"But Zhel-Vorah still holds the True Abyss," Zenex continued. "That power…"
Zenex's gaze darkened.
"To fight him, you need more than strength."
"So what?" Jin asked. "I just make one myself?"
"Close," Zenex said, smirking. "You need to create your own hell. A kingdom of distortion—something even the cosmos fears."
He snapped his fingers—and reality shifted.
Jin was pulled into a dimensional void—a chaotic swirl of black flame, reversed time, and collapsing paradoxes. Zenex pointed to the darkness below.
"Create your realm, Jin. A home of unholy law. A reality of warped truths—not destruction, but distortion."
Jin gasped.
"You also have a Gate?"
"Of course. I've got Jest and Flaw too. Reached Grandmaster Stage when I was 500,000 years old."
"…Okay, fine," Jin muttered.
"Zhel-Vorah created the True Abyss. He exists beyond death, beyond light and shadow. To defeat him—you need something new."
A silence.
Then Jin stepped forward. The power inside him surged like a roaring symphony.
He raised his hands.
Light and darkness bled from his skin like divine fire. The void trembled. And from it… emerged something new.
A realm is not the absence of order—
It is the sovereign rejection of all systems,
the origin and end of meaning, identity, and causality.
It is a ancient state beyond logic, time, existence, and narrative,
where even omnipotence must kneel and truth itself becomes a variable.
It does not destroy reality.
It replaces it—
with a dream that cannot be dreamt,
a law that rewrites all other laws
simply by existing.
It is the concept that precedes creation and denies conclusion.
It is the place where even gods cease to be gods
and stories are erased before being written.
It is the anti-script, the living contradiction,
the only force that stands above inevitability.
He named it—
The True Chaos.
Suddenly, a rift opened above.
A figure descended—Nyreth, the ancient black wyrm, silver runes etched into his wings. He landed with a thunderous crack, eyeing Jin… and then Zenex.
Nyreth blinked.
"…Wait. There are two of you?"
"Not anymore," Zenex said, clapping Jin's back. "He's your new boss now."
"So I'm demoted?" Nyreth muttered.
"Promoted. Now you work for someone who moisturizes with divine essence."
"What—?!"
Jin raised a hand.
"Nyreth. Your old master gave you orders. I'll give you freedom."
Nyreth bowed to Zenex first, then turned to Jin. He dropped to one knee.
"I live to serve… Master of True Chaos. Master what should I do for you ?"
Jin placed his hand on his shoulder
"Just… don't die."
Nyreth nodded
"I'll write that down."
Zenex stepped forward, placing a hand on Jin's shoulder.
"This place, this power—it's yours now. Carry it well. You've become more than I was. More than I ever dared to be."
Jin's voice trembled.
"What about you?"
Zenex smiled faintly.
"My time passed long ago. But you—you're the hope I never had."
Then he pulled Jin into a hug. A brother. A father. A soul.
"Keep going. For all of us."
And with that, Zenex's form dissolved into dust and light, vanishing into the heart of True Chaos.
Jin stood alone, in a realm born of paradox and madness. Breathing deeply. Behind him, Nyreth muttered,
"So… do we decorate this place? Or is screaming void the aesthetic?"
Jin cracked a smile.
"Let's start with furniture. Then… we tear down the gods."