"Trash."
"Filth."
Aleph's eyelids trembled as his breathing quickened.
"Please... no more. I didn't mean to, I... I didn't know." He murmured, eyes wide as he saw thousands of silhouettes pointing at him.
"Didn't mean what? Didn't know what?" a mocking voice rang out. Aleph looked up—only to meet a face nearly identical to his own.
"...Caelus."
"Don't you think it's pathetic?" the boy said as he circled him slowly, eyes locked on Aleph like a predator sizing up its prey. "Poor Aleph... No, I shouldn't even call you that. It's not your real name, is it? Didn't Aha already say so? You can't even remember who you are. But that's not real either, because that you isn't real!"
His tone was so different from the boy Aleph had met before...
"That name should belong to the unfortunate person who got shredded along with me to create you, right, Frankie? That name suits you better—after all, you're just a lump of flesh stitched together from others." "Caelus" laughed as Aleph clenched his teeth and shook his head, covering his ears. "Don't bother. You can't shut me out. Filthy thief, you still have the nerve to act like a victim? Did you really think you could just snuggle up to my little sister, live the life that was supposed to be mine, the adventure that was meant to be my destiny?"
Aleph trembled as he backed away. The figure of "Caelus" stepped closer until they stood face to face.
"So shy~." Kafka's voice echoed, and both turned toward the direction it came from. Their eyes narrowed when they saw Blade's sword aimed at Stelle.
"Tch." "Caelus" clicked his tongue and vanished, and Aleph's expression turned cold in an instant.
[Ultimate ability activated.]
......
Aleph smiled, his gaze lit by an inhuman fire, as the neon lights hanging above flickered like they shared in his madness.
Cameras floated all around him, capturing him from every angle. Every move he made was followed with perfect precision, as if it had all been rehearsed, planned—as if this was his masterpiece.
The makeshift stage looked like something ripped from a reality show. The walls trembled with artificial applause from a non-existent audience, and the floor vibrated with each step from the being that was—and wasn't—Aleph.
Kafka watched from a corner, still with open shackles dangling from her wrists. Her eyes, usually mischievous or teasing, had turned serious, tense. A whisper escaped her lips, barely audible.
"...Caelus..."
Beside her, Stelle was barely standing. Her eyes were locked on the figure in front of her, as if her mind couldn't process what it was seeing.
"...Aleph."
Aleph's body had mutated after fusing with Oni.
His silhouette still resembled a humanoid, but his skin had hardened like armor. His nails had elongated into sharp, glossy black claws. His muscles bulged and tightened with raw power, and each of his movements left a trail of steam, like his body temperature had risen to absurd levels.
Blade, for his part, had shifted from aggression to a defensive stance. His scowl came less from annoyance and more from something close to awe. The first clash with Oni-leph had forced him back several steps, and when he raised his arm to block a second blow, he clearly heard the unpleasant sound of a bone snapping.
"Tch..." He clicked his tongue, eyeing his twisted arm. "How annoying..."
Without wasting time, he let it hang for a second before launching himself back into the fight. Even as it regenerated, he was already attacking with his other hand. But even for someone like him, the situation was starting to get concerning.
Aleph fought with a bizarre mix of choreography and brutality. He spun, laughed, danced like a jester—before striking with blows filled with murderous intent. It was a scene straight out of a run-down asylum—flashing lights, distorted music, screens showing out-of-place images… and at the center, a grinning monster with two crimson horns fighting an immortal who was slowly losing ground.
Then, Aleph's voice changed.
"Behold, my beautiful audience!" he cried out, lifting Blade by the neck with one hand. "Would you like a magic trick, my beloved crowd? I'll split my dear assistant in half—though I doubt I can put him back together… Meh, minor details, right?"
The words came out with a gleeful, disturbing cheer—like a child who didn't realize his "game" was hurting people.
With a theatrical gesture, he raised his free arm and slammed it down.
In the blink of an eye, everything changed.
The world warped around them. A wave of static swept through the space, and reality distorted as if it had been sliced by a scalpel.
Kafka and Stelle instinctively stepped back.
"What…?" Stelle muttered, blinking.
The stage was no longer the same. Now, Blade and Aleph floated inside a translucent bubble, suspended in a black-and-white dimension with no shape or direction. Outside, Kafka and Stelle could see them through a massive screen embedded in the stage—like it was all a live broadcast.
...
Kafka crossed her arms with a grim expression. Her eyes scanned every visible corner of the illusory prison. She didn't speak at first. She simply observed, fingers tapping softly on her forearm. But her silence felt heavy—unusually heavy.
Stelle, meanwhile, was focused on Aleph's face. Through the screen, she could see something behind the madness. A tension, a stiffness in his gaze that didn't match his hysterical laughter. Something was wrong.
Very wrong.
"Aleph… what happened to you?" she whispered, gripping her bat tightly.
What had started as a grotesque spectacle was beginning to escalate in a deeply unsettling way.
And Kafka… still watching the stage, muttered in a dry, neutral tone:
"What happened to your brother?"
Stelle didn't know how to answer. She simply stepped away from Kafka—there was something in her tone that made her feel danger.
*********
"Save your partner before their life force is completely drained."
The words echoed in Stelle's mind like an impossible sound to ignore.
She didn't know whose voice it was—no, she could recognize it. It was the same voice she had heard that night in the Underworld. But why now? Well, it didn't matter much.
If what it said was true...
Through the screen, she could see Aleph—or what was left of him—moving with chaotic, senseless fury. Each attack he unleashed was wilder, more desperate.
His expression, though twisted into a manic grin, showed the faintest tremble.
A crack?
Stelle swallowed hard as she noticed that crack spreading along his arm.
"He's… wearing down."
She started putting the pieces together. Wasn't this similar to what March 7th had told her happened when Aleph went berserk during the battle against Cocolia?
The ambrosia tree had reappeared, radiating massive life energy… and the Stellaron was now acting without restraint.
Aleph, absorbing all of that without filters, without control… maybe this wasn't just possession.
Maybe his body had taken in more than it could handle and lost its mind from the overflow of vitality.
She tried to move forward, trying to break through the translucent barrier of the Null Space.
She struck it with her fist, then with the bat. Not even a crack. Then she ran at it with all her strength, jumped… and was instantly repelled, thrown backward with force.
"Agh!" She let out a cry of pain as she hit the ground.
Before she could move, she felt a hand on her shoulder.
Kafka helped her up without a word at first.
Her expression was unsettling—unreadable.
Neutral like a mask. Her eyes were fixed on the screen, and for a moment her fists clenched so tightly her knuckles turned white.
…Had she mentioned she was still holding her shoulders?
"What happened to your brother?" she asked again, her voice as soft and sharp as a razor's edge.
Stelle blinked.
She didn't understand why that question made her so uncomfortable. It wasn't aggressive, but something in Kafka's tone… as if she knew more. As if she was accusing her without raising her voice.
She swallowed hard.
....
Inside the distortion bubble, there was no sky or ground. Just a black-and-white void that spread like a poorly sealed wound, throbbing and viscous. Everything else—the arena, the spectators, the noise—had been sealed away, swallowed by the whim of a power born of the Nihility Path.
Aleph and Blade stood alone in that dead limbo.
Blade, forced to take things seriously, raised his energy to a new threshold. His broken arm had already regenerated, and his sword shone with a pulsing crimson light. With a swift motion, he dodged Aleph's attack and spun around, slashing straight across his abdomen.
Aleph dropped to his knees with a groan that pierced through the limits of the Null Space like an electric shock. For a second, the lights flickered, the screens trembled, and reality itself blinked—like the entire show was on the verge of collapsing.
But instead of breaking down… Aleph laughed.
A long, foolish, unhinged laugh that echoed across the entire structure.
"Aaaaaahahahaha! That was amazing, Blade! Come on, more! Do it again! Do it like you hate me!"
Blade stepped back slightly, frowning. Then he looked away, disgusted by the brat's twisted expression.
"Pathetic."
Before he could follow up the attack, a figure was summoned just behind Aleph.
A young girl in blue clothing with pink details, floating in the air with a confused look—Nappea. She extended her hands and recited a short incantation.
"Dia."
A soft golden light fell over Aleph, healing the open wound.
"Tch…" Blade clicked his tongue in annoyance.
....
For a moment, Aleph's grin faltered. He blinked. He looked confused… or maybe hurt. His eyes searched for something… someone… until they briefly focused on the screen—and locked eyes with Stelle.
It was only a second.
But it was enough.
And he moved.
He took advantage of the moment, stepping further away from Kafka without a word, without looking back. He ran forward with the bat charged with energy.
He only said a few words.
"…Rules were made to be broken."
Seizing the opportunity, Stelle noticed the space Aleph had separated had become unstable thanks to his hesitation. When she saw his back turned, focused on Blade, she didn't hesitate.
She jumped.
And with a battle cry—
Unleashed the full power of As Estellar in a single blow aimed at his back.
The impact rang out like thunder at the heart of the Null Space.
....
Blade's sword sliced through the illusion and struck real flesh. The air hissed as the blade sank deep into Aleph, wrenching a guttural scream from him. For a moment, reality wavered, and the space around him tore like an old sheet, revealing just a glimpse of the normal world hidden beneath its folds.
Aleph staggered, took a step back… and burst into laughter.
A hollow laugh, directionless. There was no hatred, no rage—only a dangerous kind of euphoria, like he'd just remembered a really good joke.
Blade, taking advantage of the opening created by Stelle's strike with the Estellar Ace, lunged with the intent to kill. But before his sword could reach its mark, Kafka stopped him with a voice that was cold and sharp.
"Don't kill him."
Blade clicked his tongue in irritation, but obeyed. Instead, with cruel precision, he severed Aleph's tendons and damaged his joints, leaving him completely immobilized.
Stelle, who had been attacking up to that moment—though more hesitantly now—noticed that some parts of Aleph's body were beginning to return to normal. A new worry crept in.
If he returns to normal… will he die?
Clarity began to return to Aleph's eyes.
But soon, he collapsed. His breathing was erratic.
Stelle knelt beside him and, without saying a word, placed his head on her lap.
Her trembling hands began to gently stroke his hair.
Blade approached slowly, still alert. Kafka placed a hand on his shoulder and shook her head.
"It's time to go." she said in a disinterested tone that left no room for argument.
Blade frowned, displeased, but eventually turned and walked away with her.
Just before leaving, Kafka cast one last look at Stelle and Aleph. Her eyes—usually so hard to read—were filled with emotions even she couldn't fully understand, but above all else… concern. So much so, it was truly disconcerting.
...…
A few minutes later, March 7th and Welt came running after receiving a report from some injured guards that they'd seen Blade heading toward the interrogation area.
As soon as they regained consciousness, the guards had sounded the alarm.
When they arrived, they stopped dead in their tracks.
The scene before them left them speechless.
Aleph lay on the floor, unconscious and covered in wounds. Stelle sat beside him, offering her lap as a pillow while she stroked his head. Her face was expressionless, but her eyes—wet and trembling—couldn't hide how distressed she was.
A heavy silence filled the room. Not even March 7th dared to crack a joke or bite the bullet and ask what the hell had happened.
A beeping sound echoed.
Aleph's gauntlet lit up, and a hologram of a woman with a blank expression and body appeared—Burroughs.
[Emergency protocol activated. Summoning instructions available. Could you help me? Certain parts of the procedure must be triggered from the other side using the Master's fingerprints.]
The AI spoke in a neutral but hurried tone. She explained how to use the COMP to proceed with the summoning.
March 7th stepped forward to help, but Stelle shot her a look so cold and sharp that she raised her hands and backed off.
"I've never seen her like this…" March muttered, watching Stelle's trembling hands, her tearful eyes...
Seeing that idiot she'd just been joking with in such a critical state…
It felt awful.
Welt stepped forward.
"Let me examine him."
"Don't touch him." Stelle murmured, holding Aleph's body closer to hers.
Both of them stepped back, surprised by her reaction.
[Aleph is on the brink of death. You got here just in time. One more minute and there would've been nothing I could do. But I can help.]
Burroughs continued.
She instructed Stelle on how to summon Nappea again. The girl carefully followed the instructions. In an instant, the demon appeared once more, confused by the situation, but upon seeing Aleph's condition, she rushed to heal him without a single question.
"Again?" Despite her grumbling tone, the fairy healed him—and even when he seemed fully restored, she threw in two extra Dia spells. "Master… why can't you take better care of yourself?"
Silence returned, broken only by Aleph's ragged breathing and Stelle's whisper, so soft it was barely audible.
"…Is he going to die?"
Welt and March exchanged an uneasy look, not entirely understanding what she had just said.
Seriously… what had happened while they were gone?
March covered her mouth. Welt looked to Burroughs with a probing gaze, waiting for an answer that wasn't just an empty reassurance.
[I brought him back,] Burroughs replied. [He and I are… connected. I have a degree of influence over Aleph's constitution. Enough to activate his energy absorption ability. He's already begun repairing his lost vitality. Especially thanks to the excess produced by the Ambrosia Tree. He's absorbing vitality. Very slowly. But he's coming back.]
The tone and face of the hologram remained emotionless, but what made Welt raise an eyebrow was the faint trace of worry he could sense in her.
It made him wonder once again—just how advanced was the AI in Aleph's gauntlet?
[…I'm relieved.]
Stelle said nothing. She just kept stroking his head in silence
************
Aleph began to regain consciousness. The first thing he saw when he opened his eyes was Stelle's face.
"What… happened…?" Aleph whispered with a raspy voice, confused. He didn't seem to fully remember what he had done under the influence of his ultimate ability.
Stelle didn't answer. Instead, she just hugged him tighter. Out of the corner of his eye, Aleph saw March 7th and Welt Yang, both watching him with varying degrees of concern.
He tried to get up, but a sharp pain stopped him.
Stelle held him, and as he looked down at his torn, blood-soaked clothes, a guilty expression crossed his face upon realizing he'd also stained Stelle.
"Stelle… you should let—"
"Shut up. You're not allowed to talk, idiot." She muttered, burying her face into his chest once Aleph was stable enough to stand on his own.
He still felt so warm… so why did it feel like something inside him had gone dark?
....
Soon, it was time to move on.
Along the way, March 7th and Tingyun stared in awe at the reborn Ambrosia Tree. She turned to Welt.
"Is this also the Stellaron's doing...?" she asked warily.
"Yes." Welt replied gravely. Then he turned to look at Aleph and Stelle.
Thankfully, he seemed to have mostly recovered by now.
As they descended through the complex, they came across a holographic projection of General Jing Yuan in the middle of a conversation with Fu Xuan.
Upon seeing them arrive, Jing Yuan gave them a smile they had already come to know all too well.
March 7th looked at him with an especially tired expression.
"That smile only means one thing…" March muttered. "He's about to hand us another job. What do you think, Aleph? Team Fix-It from the Astral Express? Our slogan could be: 'We fix everything, from broken hearts to problems caused by laziness or poor management!'"
She said it in an exaggerated tone on purpose, trying to get some kind of reaction out of Aleph.
"Oh yeah, sure."
"Aleph?... That's all you're gonna say, you doof?"
"Oh yeah, yeah. Sure."
March 7th wanted to complain about his insensitivity, but stopped when she saw his face. Once again, she couldn't help but worry—it hurt so much... so painfully much, seeing that look on his face. So distant. Empty. His eyes—the light in them had dimmed drastically.
March clenched her fists in frustration. This was definitely Kafka's fault.
What had that woman done to them, for Aleph to end up like this, and for Stelle to be so… fragile? She didn't even want to leave Aleph's side now, clinging to his coat as if letting go would cause him to vanish into thin air.
"Ah, how good it is to see you all, dear guests. We needed an extra hand, and the Stellaron Hunters were kind enough to put us in touch with the Astral Express."
Fu Xuan, furious, lashed out at Jing Yuan for the decision he'd just made.
"Is this some kind of joke, oh so dear General?" she said in an overly sweet tone, a shadow covering the top half of her face. "Are you trying to make us Luofu people look like incompetent fools who rely on guests to do their work? This can't go on. Just look at the state they're in. Luofu has no shortage of capable hands. Please reconsider this decision."
For a moment, she looked at the group with regret.
"It's my fault… I expected more from the General…"
"In times like these, secrets matter less, Diviner Fu." Jing Yuan replied, unfazed. Then he turned to the group. "I officially assign you the task of helping seal the Stellaron. I trust you're more than willing to carry out this mission, yes?"
Fu Xuan was stunned, and just as she was about to protest again, Jing Yuan cut her off:
"Diviner Fu, I hereby grant you military command. You're now in charge of the Nimbus Knights stationed at the Alchemy Commission, specifically in the area closest to the Ambrosia Tree."
Clicking her tongue, Fu Xuan accepted the order, though she paused briefly when she heard Stelle mumble.
"I'm sorry… for letting Kafka escape."
Fu Xuan didn't respond. She simply walked away.
...
Before they left, the group crossed paths with her once more. March 7th approached her, curious.
"So, what will you do now?"
"Don't worry. I'll fulfill my duties perfectly." Fu Xuan replied calmly, though with pride. "The General must have told you to go there, right? Even knowing how bad things are, he still chose to send you..." She let out a sigh.
"That man, the General... deep down he loves using his authority to delegate anything he doesn't feel like doing. To him, you're like... a cake falling from the sky." Fu Xuan's gaze held a hint of apology. "Securing the Alchemy Commission is a priority. All of Luofu's medical research and production takes place there, and due to its proximity to the Ambrosia Tree's seal… we fear the worst may have already happened."
Before leaving, Fu Xuan gave them one last look.
"By now, the Artisanship Commission is likely in the same state as the Alchemy Commission—with a catastrophe about to strike, or already underway." With that, Fu Xuan took her leave.
March 7th couldn't help but sigh.
"...Always so cryptic. Someone should make a Fu Xuan dictionary."
....
The entrance was packed with people.
March 7th gasped in surprise.
"Why's there so many people here? Shouldn't they have gone somewhere else after hearing what's going on? Like, I dunno—sheltered in their homes or something."
Welt, beside her, simply shook his head.
"That's the adult world, March. Rest gets harder as the years go by. Eventually, even taking a vacation feels more like a hassle than a treat..." For a moment, Welt looked nostalgic. "At the end of the day, work is work—you need it to live. It's not uncommon to forget what relaxing even feels like once you hit a certain age."
"Eh? Adults are that complicated?"
"You'll understand when you grow up, March." Welt said with a smile. "Well, I think that's enough small talk. We should head inside—but first, let's ask a few questions. It never hurts to understand the situation better before moving forward."
As they approached, a young man stopped them.
"You shouldn't try to go in—it's dangerous. You could end up seriously hurt. If my hunch is right, there's chaos erupting in other key areas of the Luofu… and the Cloud Knights won't reach you in time if things get worse."
Aleph stepped forward, Stelle still holding onto his sleeve. Welt watched him closely.
Something about his dull eyes sent a chill down the young man's spine, even though Aleph's tone was gentle.
"I'm sorry, but we need to get past that door. We're here on the General's orders."
Seeing they wouldn't back down, he sighed and handed them an access key.
"Please… if you're going in, save my master, Mr. Gongshu. He stayed behind to salvage his research. He didn't make it out before the lockdown."
"No problem." Aleph replied, giving the trembling young man a reassuring pat on the shoulder.
...
Soon, the doors opened, and they peered inside the Commission.
Makeshift barricades of various items blocked the way.
They had barely taken a few steps when a group of guardian robots attacked—led by a dark-haired man with a short beard, dressed in a red uniform.
...
Defeating the robots was no trouble at all, though Aleph's expression seemed a bit darkened when the group unanimously decided not to let him fight.
The man cried over the mechanical remains.
"My poor creations! Do you have any idea how long it took me to find each part or to convince my students to build them for me?! Opportunistic scoundrels! I'll never hand over my research!" He glared at them fiercely, teeth clenched. "You'll be compensating me properly for what you did to my little friends!"
March 7's eyebrows twitched in frustration.
"And whose fault do you think that is?! You wouldn't listen and started a fight for no reason!" she snapped. "We came here to rescue you! You know that?!"
After they explained why they were there and showed the General's order, the man calmed down a little.
"Gongshu. Or, well—you can call me Master Gongshu, that works. And that sentimental, clumsy student of mine… How could he just abandon his research like that? They left the Commission's precious goods behind just to save their own hides. Even if you save me, that won't change. Maybe I should fail them all."
March 7 thought Gongshu's students had it way too rough.
After a brief talk, Gongshu guided them to another area where they saw a Jade Gate.
Gongshu chuckled and pointed to it.
"Behold one of the Commission of Craftsmanship's finest prototypes—the Morphing Screen. Despite a few… minor issues, it's far more efficient and versatile than a standard Jade Gate for transposition! It can even change direction, unlike the regular ones!"
Tingyun laughed.
"Thank you, Master! If it weren't for you taking your sweet time perfecting inventions, the Commission of Celestial Transport would've been obsolete ages ago."
"Cut to the chase." Aleph said, arms crossed and brow furrowed, his fingers tapping against his bicep. "Who do we have to fight?"
Gongshu sighed and composed himself.
"We need to reach the area housing the Commission of Craftsmanship's most prized possession—the Creation Furnace! Normally, I could've transported us there instantly using the Morphing Screen… but those damn roots from the Demon Tree blocked everything and I don't know how—!"
His voice cut off as he noticed what Aleph was doing.
Just as Gongshu was about to suggest using machinery to burn the roots, something unexpected happened.
Aleph stepped forward and touched each root, one by one.
Everyone—Gongshu, March 7, Welt, Tingyun, and Stelle—watched in awe as…
Every root withered at his touch.
Not only that, but Aleph's remaining injuries began healing at a much faster rate.
Under their astonished gazes, a golden root and flower emerged from the palm of Aleph's hand—the same hand that had touched the roots.
"Trash." he muttered, immediately closing his hand. When he opened it again, the flower and roots had withered into dust and scattered on the wind.
A golden-green glow shimmered over Aleph's body for a few seconds before vanishing.
Gongshu trembled, realizing the glow was almost identical to that of the Ambrosia Tree.
**************************************************************************
[Aleph Avesta]
Level: 40
St: 49 → 80
Vit: 50 → 80
Ma: 60 → 80
Ag: 50 → 80
Lu: 11
Stat Points: 5
App Points: 100
New Skills Acquired:
Garu: (Versatile wind control)
Magaru: (AoE version of Garu)
Zan: (Wind magic focused on offense and kinetic damage)
Mazan: (AoE version of Zan)
Dia: (Minor healing)
Aleph's stat increase came from both absorbing vital energy and spending his state points.
Illusionist (Magic granted by a 4-star essence belonging to Loki):
Aleph holds intermediate mastery of this magic. Since it's a 4-star essence, it doesn't provide full knowledge. He only has enough insight and experience to make it functional. After all… illusion magic from the God of Lies and Deception was never going to be simple, right?
His illusions are tangible and can deal Quantum or Imaginary-type damage.
Void Space (Ultimate skill from the Path of Nihility)
Effect: Creates a field that traps Aleph and his opponent inside. Within the field, all attacks and status effects have guaranteed accuracy. The winner is determined by who strikes faster.