The Oblivion headquarters stood untouched.

  Solid walls. Watchtowers. Reinforced iron gates.

  Everything Graham’s village never had.

  He followed Wetra through the massive doors, the echo of their footsteps swallowed by the main hall. Oblivion members moved with urgency—checking gear, issuing orders, preparing for battle.

  They looked ready.

  They always did.

  Graham and Alice followed Wetra along the dusty roads toward the Oblivion headquarters. The building stood solid—built from Caelum’s signature bricks—complete with watchtowers and a massive reinforced iron gate. As they stepped into the main hall, they saw Oblivion members bustling: communicating urgently, checking gear, preparing equipment.

  Wetra turned to face them.

  “It might be too soon, and you’re undoubtedly still traumatized,” he said, his tone grave. “We had stationed several members in District 4 when the disaster struck. But our numbers were limited. Not every area could be monitored, and reinforcements arrived late—they were blocked by Abyss creatures along the way.”

  Graham’s body stiffened.

  “Then why didn’t you help right away?” His voice rose, raw and breaking. “Even just an evacuation! At the very least you could have saved someone—anyone… or my family.”

  Rage was plain across his face. His left arm throbbed faintly—an unnatural pain that flared whenever his emotions surged.

  Alice immediately grabbed his arm and met his eyes directly.

  “Calm down, Graham… they probably did everything they could.”

  Wetra let out a long sigh.

  “I’m sorry. I know it’s hard to accept. But like I said, we were short-handed. Some reinforcements were delayed after being intercepted by Abyss entities.”

  Graham swallowed hard, forcing the anger back down.

  Alice kept holding his hand, giving him the quiet anchor he desperately needed.

  Suddenly an Oblivion member burst in, breathless.

  “Report, sir! Terukh Hill, District 3, is under attack by mid- to extreme-level Abyss!”

  Wetra reacted instantly. He knew threats at that level were far from ordinary.

  “Deploy the elite units,” he ordered sharply.

  “Contact Barte and Qiuora, Full gear.”

  The entire hall erupted into motion. Everyone understood—this mission would be brutal.

  At the words “Terukh Hill,” Graham jolted.

  “W-what? Terukh Hill?!” He spun toward Alice in panic.

  “That’s where Uncle Kael usually gathers wood. Come on, Alice… we have to help him!”

  He tugged her hand, but memories of the Abyss’s savagery froze Alice in place, cold dread crawling through her veins.

  Wetra stopped them with a firm voice.

  “In your current condition, it’s impossible for you to save Kael. You wouldn’t even make it close.”

  “Civilians are forbidden from entering the battlefield. Follow protocol.”

  If you spot this tale on Amazon, know that it has been stolen. Report the violation.

  Without waiting for a reply, he strode away.

  Graham stood frozen, still gripping Alice’s trembling hand. Powerlessness crashed over him.

  If only Oblivion had moved this fast back then…

  Maybe my family—my village—could have been saved.

  Alice looked at him gently.

  “It’s okay, Graham… I’m here. You’re not alone.”

  Her words cut deep. His gaze dropped to the simple knitted wool bracelet on his wrist—proof of his parents’ love. Proof they wanted him to survive. To grow.

  A short while later, a tall blonde Oblivion woman approached, carrying bread, water, and steaming soup.

  “Deputy Commander Wetra asked me to bring you food,” she said softly. “I know what you’re going through. We’re deeply shaken by the loss of District 4 too.”

  “Who are you?” Graham asked warily, instinctively stepping slightly in front of Alice.

  “Oh—sorry, I forgot to introduce myself,” she replied quickly. “I’m Joeline, Division V. Don’t be afraid.”

  She set the food on the table.

  “Please, eat.”

  Graham didn’t move.

  His eyes shifted from the bread to the steaming soup… then locked back on Joeline.

  Something felt wrong.

  Too warm. Too perfect.

  Trust was no longer a luxury he could afford—not after everything had burned to ash.

  His fingers unconsciously tightened on Alice’s sleeve.

  Don’t take it, he wanted to say.

  Please… don’t trust them so easily.

  His mind screamed caution.

  Oblivion.

  Uniforms.

  Authority.

  Symbols of protection—and stark reminders of how late they had arrived.

  Before he could speak, Alice reached out and took the bread first.

  Graham froze.

  “Alice—”

  “It’s okay,” she said softly, already breaking the loaf in half. Her hands were steady—almost unnaturally steady.

  “She wouldn’t poison us. Not here. Not like this.”

  She paused—just for a heartbeat—before splitting it.

  Graham stared, speechless.

  For a moment he couldn’t fathom how she could sound so certain.

  She handed him half.

  “You haven’t eaten since yesterday, right? You didn’t even have breakfast this morning.”

  Her tone wasn’t pleading.

  It was firm.

  Graham hesitated… then accepted it.

  “Thank you… Alice.”

  Alice gave only a small smile.

  Joeline turned her face away, pretending not to notice the quiet exchange.

  For a brief instant, her expression tightened—not discomfort, but something closer to restraint.

  For a fragile moment, a thread of warmth wrapped around them—enough to lighten the crushing weight, if only briefly.

  After a short pause, Joeline took the lead in conversation, trying to close the distance.

  “We are Oblivion,” she said. “Our duty is to protect Caelum. We will never discriminate against civilians.”

  Alice gave a small nod. Oblivion was entirely new to her, yet she could sense Joeline’s sincerity.

  Joeline continued.

  “Graham… Alice… you survived, but the world isn’t done with you yet. There are things out there… things even Oblivion fears.”

  Graham chewed slowly.

  Joeline’s words reached his ears, but his mind remained trapped in District 4—amid flames, screams, collapsing earth.

  All of it felt impossibly

  distant…

  while the destruction felt agonizingly close.

  Graham and Alice didn’t respond much—not from disinterest, but because they weren’t yet ready to process it all.

  Seeing them eat without fear eased something in Joeline’s chest.

  No one realized—

  that at that very moment, something far greater had awakened.

  TERUKH HILL

  Terukh Hill had become a field of chaos.

  Kael, former Head of Division I, stood alone against a swarm of Abyss. With years of hard-earned experience, he swung his axe without hesitation—movements wild yet precise.

  “YOSHAA—COME AT ME, YOU DAMNED CREATURES!” he roared. The axe carved arcs through the air.

  The number of Abyss slowly thinned.

  But the real threat was only beginning.

  The sky thundered. The ground shook violently—a sign of something far more dangerous.

  Kael frowned. This phenomenon… shouldn’t be happening.

  From the rising smoke emerged a colossal figure.

  Abyss BUNE.

  Kael knew instantly—this was no ordinary Abyss.

  This was something that should never appear alone.

  The three-headed monster towered over him, its aura suffocating. Its roar felt capable of erasing existence itself.

  Rocks, trees, and debris hurtled toward Kael.

  He knew—this was deadly. Yet he pressed forward.

  “Hah… this is getting ridiculously dangerous,” he muttered with a bitter smile.

  “Is this when I finally return to God?”

  He moved as fast as he could, but his axe couldn’t pierce the monster’s hide.

  Bune seemed to mock him.

  A massive chunk of debris flew in. Cornered and surrounded by lesser Abyss, Kael had no time to dodge. The impact slammed into his left arm.

  “Tch… this is bad,” he hissed through clenched teeth.

  The smaller Abyss began closing in.

  Kael staggered back, left arm hanging useless, blood dripping from torn flesh. He snatched a fallen dagger from the dirt with his right hand, knuckles white. Lesser Abyss lunged—claws raking air where his throat had been a heartbeat ago. He rolled, shoulder slamming stone, pain flaring fresh. He came up swinging, dagger slicing one creature’s throat; black blood sprayed across his face. Another leaped; he met it with a shoulder charge, driving it back into the dirt. His breath came in ragged gasps, vision blurring at the edges.

  But Bune watched. The central head’s eyes narrowed, amused. The left head’s flame coiled low, ready. The right head’s hiss grew louder, words burrowing deeper—Graham’s scream from that night, Alice’s bracelet snapping in fire, Kael’s own failures echoing louder than the thunder.

  He spat blood, grinning through the pain.

  “Come on then,” he rasped. “Finish it.”

  The smaller Abyss surged again, claws flashing—

  From the sky, veteran Oblivion members in black robes marked with inverted triangles descended, propelled by Aurum Wings—golden liquid applied to their backs, granting controlled flight and full acceleration.

  Leading them:

  Wetra — Deputy Commander

  Barte — Head of Division II

  Qiuora — Head of Division V

  Together with thirty elite Oblivion members, carrying Aurum reserves, spare weapons, and medical kits.

  They arrived prepared for a fight to the death.

  In the distance, the sun continued rising. Its light pierced the swirling dust—

  a harbinger of the great battle about to unfold.

  The Aurum Wings of Oblivion’s elite ignited in unison, casting golden reflections through the dust-choked air.

  The formation landed.

  Weapons raised.

  Breaths held.

  Wetra stepped forward, eyes locked on the colossal figure dominating the ruins of Terukh Hill.

  “That’s it,” he said quietly.

  “An Abyss Sovereign.”

  His hand lifted slightly—a simple gesture, yet absolute.

  “All units—”

  His voice cut through the dust and silence, sharp and commanding,

  “ENGAGE.”

  For a brief moment,

  Bune remained motionless.

  Then its three faces slowly turned toward the Oblivion forces.

  And then—

  it SMILED knowingly.