Queen Lolopechka
A cold shiver ran down her spine, her body betraying her as she clenched her trembling hands against her chest. Her stomach twisted—a sick, familiar nausea bubbling up. Her vision blurred for a moment, and she shut her eyes tight, willing the sensation away.
Her delicate fingers curled into the fabric of her dress, knuckles whitening. She swallowed hard.No. Not again.
The weight of her crown felt heavier today, pressing against her skull as if reminding her of everything she had failed to be. Strands of her long, wavy dark hair clung to her damp cheeks, framing her soft, youthful face. Her round, watery eyes—once bright and full of warmth—now shimmered with uncertainty, their deep blue hue clouded with fear.
She forced herself to stand straight, shoulders squared, chin lifted—but the stiffness in her posture only made the mask harder to wear. Her legs ached beneath her, the phantom pain of battle still clawing at her muscles. The red eyed laughter echoed in her mind, sharp and cruel. Her dress shifted as she shakily pulled at the fabric, revealing the cursed markings crawling across her smooth skin.
Dark sigils spiraled outward from her navel, twisting like coiling vines, their jagged edges pulsing faintly with an eerie glow. The patterns slithered when she breathed, reacting to her fear, shifting like living veins of shadow.
"Breathe, my queen,"Undine murmured, her voice smooth as rippling water. She traced soothing circles along Lolopechka's back, her touch cooling the feverish pain beneath her skin."I'm here."
Lolopechka sniffled against her, her fingers gripping Undine's watery form as if afraid she might dissolve between her hands."U-Undine…" Her voice wavered. "I-I don't know how much longer I can—"
A sharp flick of water tapped her forehead, cutting her off. Lolopechka yelped, rubbing the spot, and looked up to see Undine giving her a firm, knowing stare.
"That's enough of that,"Undine scolded gently."You don't get to doubt yourself, not while I'm around."
"B-But the curse… It's still growing. What if we never—"
Undine hushed her with a hand over her stomach, pressing cool magic into the shifting sigils. The dark markings flared, then settled under her touch."We will find a way," she said, her tone steady, unwavering."This isn't the end for you, Lolopechka. Not even close."
"But—"
"No 'buts.'"Undine tightened her embrace, resting her forehead against Lolopechka's."You are strong. You are kind. You are not alone in this." A small, knowing smile tugged at her lips. "And knowing you, you'll probably trip over something long before this curse takes you down."
Lolopechka blinked, then puffed her cheeks. "Undine! That's mean…"
Undine chuckled, ruffling her hair with a playful splash of water."It's true,"she teased."And that's why we're going to figure this out. Together."
Lolopechka stared at her for a long moment, then finally—hesitantly—nodded. A tiny, wobbly smile broke through her fear.
"That's more like it."
Lolopechka's fingertips hovered over the shimmering surface of the magical screen, the liquid-like mana shifting beneath her touch. It rippled, distorting slightly before settling back into place, reflecting the vast expanse of her kingdom. Every street, every river, every soul—it was all laid out before her like a living tapestry.
Then she sawhim.
Her breath hitched. High above the land, a figure floated effortlessly in the sky, untouched by the wind that stirred around him. His posture was loose, casual, as though levitating above an entire kingdom was the most natural thing in the world. His short, dark ponytail swayed slightly, framing delicate yet sharp features—partially concealed by the blindfold wrapped snugly around his eyes.
And then he smirked. Pointing toher.
Her fingers twitched, pressing into the magic. The screen pulsed in response, zooming in closer.Who is he?She had never seen him before, yet the way he carried himself—composed, entirely unbothered—made her wary.
Then his head tilted. Just slightly. As if he couldseeher. Lolopechka's breath came faster. The kingdom's surveillance magic was powerful, undetectable. No one was supposed to know they were being watched. And yet, this man…
Heknew.
Her throat tightened. Her hands curled against the screen, her magic flaring with unease. "Undine…" she whispered, a tremor in her voice. Lolopechka swallowed hard, nodding stiffly. Her pulse pounded against her ribs. She had to act fast. Her fingers flicked over the screen, summoning a new spell—one to callGadjah.
But before she could complete it, the magic wavered. The image of the man flickered, and then—
"No need to call him."
"Relax,"he said smoothly, his voice steady, almost amused. He lifted a hand, palm up, as if to show he meant no harm."I'm just here to talk."
Lolopechka's grip on the magic screen wavered, her breath catching in her throat. The blindfolded man remained there, floating above her kingdom, unshaken, unbothered. His smirk hadn't faded, as if he had all the time in the world.
But she didn't.
The curse throbbed beneath her robes, a slow-burning reminder. Her stomach twisted, not from fear—but from the deep, aching humiliation that still clung to her. *Vanica hadn't come for the kingdom. She hadn't burned villages or slaughtered innocent people.
She hadcomefor her.
A queen—meant to be strong, wise, untouchable. And yet, Vanica had laughed as she cursed her, mocked her as she struggled. She lost. Her fingers curled over the screen's shimmering surface.
"I won't make thatmistakeagain."
Undine stirred beside her, the cool scent of fresh water washing over her senses. The spirit's presence was firm, grounding.
"Lolopechka."
She didn't respond.
Undine's watery form shifted, rippling softly. Then, a gentle but insistent touch brushed against Lolopechka's hands, cool and damp, easing the tension in her fingers."Enough,"Undine whispered."You're drowning yourself in a battle that has already ended."
Lolopechka inhaled sharply. The magic screen beneath her hands wavered, catching the flickering candlelight.
Undine leaned closer, her voice low but steady."Vanica wanted to break you. Not the kingdom. She wanted to see you hesitate, to see you doubt yourself."The water around her pulsed, a soothing wave of mana washing over Lolopechka's shoulders."And right now, you're letting her."
Lolopechka's heart pounded. The blindfolded man on the screen tilted his head, almost as if he knew what they were discussing, as if he could hear the unease crawling under her skin.
She exhaled slowly, forcing her hands to relax.
Undine's touch remained, cool and reassuring."You are Queen Lolopechka,"she murmured."Not a victim. Not a curse. So compose yourself and listen before you decide what comes next."
Lolopechka closed her eyes for half a second. The pulse of the curse was still there—but it didn't burn as much.
Her lashes fluttered open.
She straightened.
Then, finally, she spoke. "…Fine," she said, her voice quieter, but more even. "Let's hear what he has to say."
The blindfolded man remained weightless in the sky, his posture loose, unreadable. His smirk hadn't wavered, but something in his stance shifted—his arms spread slightly, palms open in a slow, deliberate motion. A gesture of peace.
"You're tense, Queen."
Lolopechka stiffened at the sound of his voice. It was smooth, almost playful, but there was something measured beneath it. He wasn't mocking her. He was observing her. Undine's form rippled beside her, the water around her shifting in slow, deliberate waves—still on guard, but watching. The man tilted his head slightly, as if sensing their hesitation.
"Before you jump to conclusions,"he said lightly,"I'll make this easy for you."
His smirk faded, just slightly.
"I am not a devil host."
Lolopechka's breath caught.
"I have no ties to the Spade Kingdom, either."His voice remained steady, his hands still open, his magic restrained."I have no reason to harm you, your people, or your land."
The words settled in the air like ripples on water. Lolopechka felt the tension in her shoulders ease—but only a fraction. The way he spoke, the way hemoved, told her he was careful with his words.Precise. He was telling the truth. Or, at the very least, he wanted them to believe he was.
She exhaled slowly.
Beside her, Undine's swirling form softened, the water around her no longer sharp with tension. Not entirely relaxed, but no longer bracing for an immediate attack. She studied the man carefully. The curse still pulsed faintly beneath her robes, a quiet reminder of her past mistake. But this man—whoever he was—did notmovelike Vanica. He didn't exude the same recklessness, the same hunger for destruction.
She glanced at Undine, their silent exchange lasting only a second. Then she turned back to the screen.
"…Then who are you?" she asked at last. Her voice was softer now, but still guarded. "And why have you come here?"
The man's smirk curled slightly at the edges, a hint of amusement flickering across his delicate features. He lowered one hand, tilting his head as if weighing something in his mind.
"That's exactly why we need to talk,"
Lolopechka's fingers twitched over the shimmering screen, still hesitant. But before she could speak, his smirk faded—not entirely, but just enough to make his next words feel heavier.
"And I'd advise you not to call your Guardians."
The air between them thickened.
"Things might get... messy."
Lolopechka's breath caught. Undine's watery form pulsed beside her, the fluid shifting ever so slightly—reacting to the unspokenthreatbeneath his words. But the man barely paid them any mind. His lips moved faintly as he muttered something under his breath, eyes hidden behind the blindfold but his focus drifting elsewhere.
"Tch… Probability's bad. Guardians responding would add… four, no, five unnecessary conditions. Ugh. Too much aggro in my current power—"
He cut himself off with a sigh, shaking his head as ifcalculatingsomething. Then, with a light exhale, he straightened and rolled one shoulder.
"Doesn't matter,"he muttered, more to himself than to them. Then, his smirk returned—less playful, more resigned.
"At least we met transparently. No tricks, no games."
Lolopechka narrowed her eyes slightly, watching him carefully.
"And if it makes you feel better,"he added with a casual shrug,"you can even bring Undine."
The way he said it—like he alreadyknewshe wouldn't come alone—made Lolopechka's stomach tighten. Undine's presence remained steady at her side, silent but watching. Lolopechka inhaled, steadying herself. The curse stillthrobbed, but her mind was clearer now.
Palace Chamber
The formal chamber was quiet, save for the soft clinks of chess pieces being moved across the polished board. The golden candlelight flickered, casting long shadows over the intricately carved pieces. Lolopechka sat upright, her delicate fingers hovering over the board, her usually clumsy demeanor absent. Here, in this game, she was precise. Calculated.
"Pawn to f5."
Across from her, the blindfolded man leaned slightly forward, one elbow resting on the arm of his chair, his head tilted in thought. His fingers tapped lightly against the table, his smirk lingering as he considered his move.
"Interesting," he mused before reaching forward. His movements were fluid, unhurried, yet deliberate. "Knight to d6."
The battle between them was swift, back-and-forth, neither one easily outmaneuvered. Lolopechka, despite her usual absentminded clumsiness, was undeniably skilled in the art of chess.
She didn't fumble here. She didn't hesitate. Each move was a quiet testament to the sharp mind behind her gentle demeanor. The blindfolded man, however, was no amateur. His lips moved faintly every now and then, as if murmuring calculations to himself—his approach systematic, almost clinical, but not without a hint of enjoyment.
Lolopechka's eyes flickered toward him, taking in his features more closely now that they sat across from each other.
The smoothness of his skin, the sharp lines of his jaw. The blindfold concealed his eyes, yet his awareness never faltered. Her fingers paused mid-air, hovering over the next move.
Her stomach twisted, a faint unease creeping body… wasdevoidof mana. That was impossible. No living mage, no matter how skilled, was completely empty of mana. And yet—there wassomethingelse. Something beneath the surface.
It wasn't raw magic. It was a presence. A force.
The Arcane Stage.
Her breath hitched. A powerful law. A sharp click jolted her from her thoughts.
"Bishop to c4."
Lolopechka flinched, realizing only then that she had been staring. Heknewwhat she had just figured out.
Undine's mana wavered slightly beside her, but she remained silent, watchful.
The man leaned back in his chair, tilting his head. His fingers brushed over a chess piece absentmindedly before he finally spoke again, shifting the conversation with a practiced ease.
But before she could open her mouth, before she could even process what she had just discovered, his smirk deepened.
"Wrong."
His voice cut through the silence like the edge of a blade, smooth, but laced with amusement.
"Devoid of mana?"He scoffed, tilting his head slightly, the candlelight casting a sharp contrast against his features."That's actually the complete opposite."
Lolopechka barely had time to react before Undine's voice echoed in her mind, urgent and clear.
"Lolopechka—be careful! This person—his mana—"
The spirit's voice wavered as if struggling to describe it.
"It's everywhere."
Lolopechka's breath hitched.
Everywhere?
All over the Heart Kingdom. She sat frozen, fingers still hovering over the chessboard. A cold sensation crawled up her spine. Undine's presence flared slightly, an unspoken warning laced in the bond they shared.
"His mana stretches all over the sky."
Lolopechka's heartbeat quickened. That was—impossible. Even the most powerful mages hadlimitsto their mana range. It could spread, but not like this. Not at this scale.
And yet—she couldn't feel it. She could sense the mana of her people, of the land, of the rivers that flowed through the kingdom. Buthis? It was absent—no, it was hidden. As if it existed beyond normal perception. As if it did not belong to this world.
Her lips parted slightly, the weight of the revelation sinking in. Undine's voice turned sharp.
"Different from nature… as if it came from nothingness."
Lolopechka's grip on the queen piece tightened. Across from her, the blindfolded man rested his chin against his palm, utterly relaxed. He tapped his finger against the table once, twice—then reached forward and, without looking, smoothly captured her knight.
"Check."
"What do you want?" Her voice was firm, but there was a slight tremor beneath it.
The man smirked. Instead of answering, he flicked his wrist, and something whizzed through the air. Lolopechka barely had time to react before a book—no, a textbook—landed with a softthudon the table between them. The leather cover was worn, the pages thick with notes and markings.
She blinked.
"This," the man said casually, leaning back in his chair. "My ongoing research."
Lolopechka's brows furrowed as she hesitantly reached for the book, flipping it open. Her eyes skimmed over diagrams, ancient symbols, passages scrawled in a script she recognized but couldn't immediately decipher.
"And what does this have to do with me?"
She needed to guard up. To becautious.
The man rested his chin on his palm. "I might be needing some help from the Queen of the Heart Kingdom."
Her fingers paused mid-page.
"Help?"
"Mhm." He stretched slightly, as if discussing a mundane favor. "Think of it as a collaboration—a harmless one."
Lolopechka's grip on the book tightened.
"I cannot help you."
She had barely finished speaking before his smirk returned—wider this time.
"Oh?" He tilted his head. "But before you reject me outright—"
His next words sliced through her like a blade.
"I can feel it."
The air grew still.
"You're not at your peak state, are you?"
Lolopechkashattered.
Her chest tightened, her breath catching in her throat. The weight of the curse coiled deep in her stomach, the phantom pain of her battle against Vanica thrumming beneath her skin. Her hands curled into fists, nails pressing into her palms.
Undine's voice rushed through her mind, sharp yet soothing.
"Lolopechka, calm yourself."
Her body tensed. The pain—the exhaustion—the knew.
How much did he see?
The man exhaled, shaking his head as if pitying her.
"So, Queen..." His voice was softer. "Are you sure you don't want to hear me out?"
His tone remained casual, but there was something pressing beneath it, something probing.
"Why are you so severely weakened?" he asked, tilting his head slightly, his voice smooth but unyielding.
A flicker of pain pulsed in her stomach where the curse lingered, its intricate patterns still etched into her skin like a cruel brand. But she didn't flinch. She kept her face composed, refusing to give anything away.
"That is none of your concern," she replied, her voice steady despite the wariness threading through her veins. The blindfolded man exhaled through his nose, tapping a finger lightly against the armrest of his chair.
"None of my concern?" he echoed, a hint of amusement in his tone. "That's a strange thing to say when I can see the weight pressing down on you."
His words sent a ripple of unease through her, but she held firm.
"I am thequeenof the Heart Kingdom," she said, chin lifting slightly. "My well-being does not need to be explained to an outsider."
The man let out a short chuckle, shaking his head as if he found her response endearing.
"Ah, but you see…" He leaned forward slightly, his presence somehow feeling larger despite his relaxed posture.
"I am not just any outsider. If I wanted to harm you, I wouldn't need a conversation to do it."
Lolopechka stiffened, and Undine's mana stirred sharply beside her.
"If you're trying to intimidate me, I suggest you reconsider," she warned, her hands tightening into fists in her lap.
"Intimidation?" He tilted his head, lips curving into something more subdued than his usual smirk. "No. Just an observation."
There was a beat of silence, then a small sigh escaped him. He eased back into his seat, resting an elbow on the armrest as he rubbed the bridge of his nose.
"Look," he said, voice gentler this time. "You don't trust me. I get it. But I have no interest in tricking you, Lolopechka. You of all people should know I have no reason to lie."
Her heart pounded at the sound of her name coming so casually from his lips. He said it as if they weren't strangers.
"Why should I believe that?"she asked, her grip still tight, unwilling to let her guard down.
The man paused for a moment before exhaling.
"Perhaps," he murmured, almost to himself, "it's better if I show you."
Before she could question him, he reached up, fingers hooking beneath the edge of his blindfold. Lolopechka's breath caught as he slowly pulled it away. The fabric slipped down, revealing a delicate yet sharp face, his features finally unobscured. But what stunned her—what truly made her breath hitch—were his eyes. One metallic silver. The other a soft, eerie pink. They were striking, unnatural, holding a depth that felt far too knowing.
For the first time, there was no smirk, no teasing glint. Just a quiet openness.Lolopechka swallowed, feeling Undine's mana tighten protectively around her.
"Don't let your guard down,"
hen, with a fluid motion, he raised his hand.
A dark blue grimoirematerializedin the air beside him, its leather cover adorned with delicate silver etchings. The pages, thick and aged, pulsed faintly as if imbued with something beyond ordinary mana. But Lolopechka's gaze snapped to the unmistakable symbol engraved on the front—
A Four-Leaf Clover.
Her breath caught.
A Four-Leaf Grimoire.
A grimoire of legend. A symbol of unmatched potential, wielded by only a chosen few in the Clover Kingdom. The weight of its significance pressed against her like an unspoken truth—undeniable, but impossible to comprehend.
"Lolopechka! his magic is strange… unnatural. Be careful."
"Since we're all being proper now," he said, his voice dropping into something smoother, more measured,
"let's start again. My name is Abiel."
She hesitated.
"Abiel?"
"Yeah." His fingers traced the edges of his book idly. "I was born in the Clover Kingdom. Just a peasant kid working in a small restaurant with my father. Nothing special."
Lolopechka's brows furrowed.
"A peasant…?"she questioned, the skepticism clear in her voice.
"Crazy, right?"
She didn't respond, waiting for him to continue.
"I don't have some grand noble lineage or hidden prophecy backing me up." he said. "One day, this thing just appeared in front of me." He tapped the grimoire again. "And since then, well… everything's been confusing."
His tone was casual, but there was something else beneath it. Something restrained.
"Confusing how?"
"Let's just say I'm not exactly sure what Iamanymore. That's why If you look in my research - I'm looking for a stone. A ruby stone, perhaps."
That sent a chill through her.
"Lolopechka."Undine's voice tightened in her mind."This magic. It's not something I've ever seen before. It's as if it's nothing."
"Nothing likevoid?"
"Yes," he said, answering the unspoken question. "It's Void Magic."
Her pulse quickened. The power of nothingness. Undine's mana flared defensively. "Magic that erases. That consumes. This isn't something that should exist in the natural order."
Lolopechka inhaled deeply, steadying herself.
"Then why do you need the ruby stone?"
Abiel held her gaze for a long moment.
Then, in a softer voice, he answered—
"Because it might be the key to finding out what I really am."
Lolopechka's expression hardened. She wasn't buying it.
"How does finding this ruby stone help you 'understand yourself'? What does that even mean?"
Her blue eyes locked onto him, searching for cracks in his reasoning.
"What is yourrealgoal?"
Abiel exhaled, rolling a chess piece between his fingers. For a moment, it seemed like he was debating whether to answer at all. Then, with a small, amused chuckle, he placed the piece down with a softclick.
"You wouldn't get it," he said, tilting his head slightly. "Your world issmall."
"Excuse me?"
"I don't mean your kingdom,"Abiel clarified, raising a hand in mock surrender."I mean your reality. Your understanding of magic, existence—of everything. It's all limited to this world, this single plane."
She frowned. Abiel leaned back in his chair, fingers intertwining as he stared up at the ceiling as if looking at something beyond it. His voice took on a thoughtful, almost distant quality.
"You think magic is bound by the rules of nature, of lineage, of mana zones and affinities. But what if it isn't?"He gestured vaguely with his hand."What if there are places where mana works differently? Where reality itself bends in ways that defy your understanding?"
His heterochromic eyes gleamed as he glanced back at her.
"I want to go there."
Lolopechka felt a strange weight settle in her stomach. "Gowhere?"
"Beyond."
A shiver crawled down her spine.
"Beyond… what?"
Abiel smirked, but it wasn't playful this time. It was unsettling.
"Beyond this world. Beyond this plane of existence."
Silence fell between them. Even Undine, who had been listening intently, seemed momentarily taken aback.
"You're talking about—"
"Interplanar travel," Abiel finished for her. "Different dimensions, different realities. Places where mana takes on forms you can't even begin to comprehend. Places that aren't bound by the natural laws of this world."
Lolopechka's lips parted slightly, but she had no response. None of this made shouldn't make sense.
"And the ruby stone?"
"It's a key," Abiel said simply. "Or at least, part of one."
"That doesn't make sense," she said firmly, shaking her head.
Abiel let out a slow breath, tilting his head slightly. His metallic and pink eyes studied her carefully, as if weighing how much to say. Then, with a deliberate slowness, he spoke.
"Do you know there are people who can usetwotypes of magic?"
The words struck her like a sudden ice-cold current. Lolopechka's breath hitched. Her chest tightened.
Two types of magic…
The image of Vanica's smirking face flashed in her mind, the twisted amusement in her crimson eyes as she toyed with her—as if she were nothing more than an insect to be crushed. The suffocating presence ofMegicula'scurse, the creeping, inescapable rot that had infected her very soul. Her stomach clenched. The curse—it still marked her, coiled like an intricate seal of death against her skin. She could feel it even now, a stain that refused to fade.
Undine's mana flickered around her protectively.
"Lolopechka… breathe."
But she couldn't. Her throat was tight. Her heartbeat pounded in her ears. Devil hosts. That's what he meant, wasn't it? Those who wielded the power of devils alongside their own natural-born magic. That's what destroyed her.
She fought to suppress the shudder raking down her spine, but Abiel's eyes didn't miss it. His expression didn't change, but there was a shift—a glimmer of understanding.
"You're thinking ofdevilhosts, aren't you?"
Abiel studied her reaction for a long moment before proceeding."That's one example,"he admitted,"but not the only one."
Lolopechka's chest tightened. The memories clawed at her—Vanica's laughter, the suffocating weight of the curse still etched into her skin.
"Devil hosts fuse their own magic with that of their devil," Abiel continued. "A forced union. A corruption of natural mana flow." He exhaled, as if the thought annoyed him. "But what if someone could wield two completely different magics—without a devil's influence?"
Lolopechka blinked. That—shouldn't be possible.
"Mana follows a natural order," she argued. "Affinity is determined at birth. Even noble bloodlines only ever have a single magic type. Unless..."
Abiel only hummed in response, a knowing gleam in his eyes. Then, without another word, his grimoire appeared beside him. The thick, dark blue tome of Void Magic floated in the air, its pages shifting as if alive. But then—a second grimoire materialized next to it.
Lolopechka's inhaled. It was completely different. Not like a book at all. A thick notepad with nocover, its pages stacked together with a strange, weightless presence. Unlike the tome, this one didn't radiate the suffocating stillness of void—it felt unwritten, undefined. As if it wasn't bound by the rules of ordinary grimoires.
"I'm proof that two magic types can coexist." He gestured at the second grimoire lazily. "And that—" he tapped his fingers against the chessboard "—is what the ruby stone will help me understand what I'm looking for."
Abiel'smetalliceye gleamed, reflecting the dim torchlight like polished silver. His expression remained unreadable—calm, polite, yet distant. Then, with a slow inhale, he took a step back. The air around him crackled. Pages of his notepad grimoire flipped violently, caught in a wind that came from nowhere. A shiver ran down Lolopechka's spine as she sensed the shift in mana, thickening like an unseen mist pressing against her skin.
Truth Magic: Fragmented Arc
A sharp tug seized her consciousness, wrenching her into the pits of reality.
Lolopechka gasped as she stumbled forward. The ground beneath her feet was no longer smooth stone but rough, uneven rubble. A thick, acrid stench filled her lungs—the metallic bite of blood mixed with the charred remains of what once might have been homes, cities, life.
The sky overhead was unrecognizable. No longer the soft, endless blue she knew, it stretched in an unnatural shade of deep crimson, veins of black lightning searing across the heavens. What little light remained was swallowed by thick clouds of ash, their embers drifting like cursed snowflakes. She turned, and her breath hitched.
The world had become a graveyard. Bodies sprawled across the shattered remains of a kingdom, twisted and broken. Some lay limp, drained of life, their eyes staring into nothingness. Others were torn apart, their forms grotesquely contorted as if they had struggled against something inevitable. Blood painted the ruins, streaking across cracked stone and pooling in the fissures of the shattered earth.
A river—no, a crimson flood—snaked through the land, thick and sluggish, reeking of decay. Lolopechka clamped a hand over her mouth, her stomach twisting. The water had turned red, saturated with the essence of the fallen.
And then she saw them.
Mages.
But they were not alive.
They stood in perfect formation, their bodies rigid, their expressions void of thought or will. Eyes dull and unseeing, they moved as one—silent, obedient, mindless. Floating beside each of them, their grimoires hung open, pages turning as if guided by an invisible force.Her heart pounded. Something—no, someone—controlled them. Her gaze followed their formation, up the crumbling steps of what was once a grand palace. At its peak, seated upon a throne carved from the remains of the fallen, was the one who commanded this army.
A man.
His posture was regal, his expression cold, untouched by the ruin surrounding him. He wore the face of Julius Novachrono, yet his presence felt entirely different—wrong. His hair, pitch-black, absorbed what little light remained, a dark abyss swallowing the world's last hope.
The sight of him sent a primal dread coursing through Lolopechka's veins.And then, a shift. A ripple of power. On the battlefield's far side, another figure emerged—a lone warrior against the darkness.
The seemed familiar.
He was older, his features sharpened by time and battle. His eyes—one gleaming silver, the other a deep, pink—held an intensity that burned like a dying star. Two grimoires floated at his sides, their pages aglow with an unfathomable power. Mana radiated from his form, weaving through the broken world like unseen tendrils, a force not yet subdued.
He raised a hand. The air trembled.The opposing figure on the throne merely smirked. Then, the battle began.
Magic erupted, splitting the heavens apart. The ground quaked as torrents of mana clashed, twisting the land into something unrecognizable. Explosions of light and shadow warred against each other, swallowing entire mountains in their wake. Buildings crumbled. Oceans roared and rose, only to be torn apart by the sheer force of the battle. The sky itself seemed to wail, its crimson expanse unraveling as reality strained under the weight of their power.
Lolopechka could do nothing but watch as the world gets destroyed.
A sharp breath tore through Lolopechka's lips as her eyes snapped open. The weight of something unseen pressed against her chest, the remnants of the vision still clinging to her mind like a suffocating fog. She gasped, her lungs burning as if she had surfaced from deep waters. The chamber's familiar warmth surrounded her, but it felt distant, almost unreal. The dim flicker of candlelight cast shifting shadows on the stone walls, and the faint scent of parchment and wax filled the air. The rhythmic ticking of the chess clock echoed softly, grounding her in the present. But the tension in the room was unmistakable.
Watersurged.
Undine stood protectively in front of her, her translucent form shimmering with an ethereal glow. Streams of water coiled around her like living tendrils, pulsing with barely restrained fury. Her sharp, cerulean eyes locked onto Abiel with unwavering suspicion.
"WHAT DID YOU DO TO HER!?"
Lolopechka's gaze followed the water spirit's, landing on Abiel. He stood just beyond Undine's reach, his eyes fluttered and calculating. His body moved in perfect harmony with the battle unfolding between them—shifting, twisting, effortlessly evading Undine's attacks. He didn't counter, didn't even raise his hand in defense.
He was studying her. Undine's strikes intensified, the tendrils of water lashing toward him like whips. A blast of condensed mana shot forward, fast and precise.
Abiel sidestepped. His coat flared slightly from the force of the attack, but he remained untouched, weaving through the onslaught like a specter. The air around him crackled faintly, but his magic remained passive, restrained. As if he wasn't trying to fight.
Lolopechka's heart pounded against her ribs. Even in her disoriented state, she could see it—he was weaker without her. She had always sensed an unusual force surrounding Abiel, an energy that didn't fully belong to him. Now, as he maneuvered alone, that missing piece became painfully obvious. His movements were still precise, but there was a delay—small, almost imperceptible, but there. Without his host's full participation, his strength wasn't absolute.
And Undine was pressing that advantage. But Lolopechka had seen enough. She forced herself to sit up, her body protesting with an aching heaviness. Her limbs felt sluggish, as though she had been asleep for an eternity, her mana drained to its core. Her fingers trembled as she clenched the fabric of her dress, summoning the strength to speak.
"Undine."Her voice was hoarse, but steady."Stop."
The water spirit hesitated mid-attack, her sharp gaze snapping to Lolopechka. Seeing her awake, Undine's aggressive stance faltered, though the swirling water didn't immediately dissipate.
Abiel exhaled in quiet relief, brushing a strand of silver hair from his forehead. A small, amused smile flickered at the corner of his lips.
"Good. You're awake."
Lolopechka pressed a shaky hand to her temple. The pounding in her skull refused to fade, the weight of the vision still dragging at her senses.
"How long was I out?" she asked, her voice barely above a whisper.
Abiel tilted his head, watching her curiously. "A minute."
Aminute.
Her stomach churned. Her body screamed in protest, every muscle aching as though she had endured months of battle. The images from the vision—crimson skies, rivers of blood, the sound of magic tearing the world apart—still clung to her mind with suffocating clarity.
But it had only been a minute. A chill ran down her spine. The air in the chamber felt too still, too normal, as if the horrors she had witnessed had never existed. But they had. She hadfeltthem. Time moved differently in that vision.
"That was one of the ten thousand futures my Truth has seen."
The vision still clawed at her mind—a world drowned in blood, cities reduced to bones and ash, the air thick with the stench of decay. An army of mindless mages, their eyes void of life, marching under the banner of the man atop the throne. A figure eerily similar to Julius Novachrono—except his hair was as black as the abyss.
And beyond that battlefield… another war.
A version of him, older, weathered, bearing two grimoires, his heterochromic eyes burning with unyielding will. Magic rippled from him, strong enough to engulf the world itself. He fought the monster on the throne. He fought and failed. Not failed to survive - but failed to save everyone.
Lolopechka's fists clenched. She whirled on Abiel, rage sparking through her veins.
"Then why are younottrying to stop it!?" Her voice was sharp, raw.
Abiel's metallic eyes flicked toward her, unbothered. She stepped forward, the tremble in her hands barely contained.
"If you saw it coming, why didn't you warn us? If you truly know the future, why not fight it? If you're strong enough to be the only one left standing, then why not use that strength to change it? I—" She swallowed hard. "I could havedonesomething."
Beside her, Undine bristled, her presence swelling like an ocean storm.
But Abiel only exhaled slowly, his silver lashes lowering as if… amused.
"Donesomething?"
His steps were deliberate, slow, as he crossed the dimly lit chamber.
"You think I haven't tried?"
Lolopechka's breath hitched.
"I have seen ten thousand futures."
The weight of those words pressed down on her, suffocating.
"Ten thousand variations," he continued, voice disturbingly calm. "And in every single one—" His lips barely moved. "I fail."
The silence was crushing.
Lolopechkafroze.
Notwe.
Not the world.
Not the heroes, the nations, the mages.
I.
Abiel's fingers twitched. "I have warned them, warriors, heroes, rules. I have fought beside them, guided them, abandoned them. I have given them power, taken it away, rewritten history itself."
His smirk deepened, but it was empty.
"And yet, no matter what I do, the result never changes. The world falls. And in the end… I am the only one left standing."
Lolopechka took a step back."…That can't be true."
Her voice was fragile.
Abiel tilted his head slightly, his eyes searching hers. Then, softly—almost gently—he asked, "Do you really think you're the first person to ask me that?"
Lolopechka felt sick.
"Every hero says the same thing. Every leader, every god. 'If we just try harder, we can win.'" His smirk widened, but it was laced with something cruel. "And do you know what happens when they try?"
Lolopechka swallowed, but no sound escaped her throat. Abiel's metallic gaze bore into her.
"They die."
A chill swept through the room. Undine's form rippled, her instincts screaming, but Lolopechka didn't move. She couldn't. Because for the first time, she realized—this wasn't just a man who had seen the end. This was a man who had lived it. Again. And again. And again.
"Then why tell me at all? Why give me this burden, if you don't even believe we can fight it?"
For a moment, Abiel just stared at her. Then he did something unexpected. He laughed.
It was short, dry—humorless.
"Ah," he exhaled, shaking his head. "There it is."
Lolopechka shivered. "What?"
Abiel turned, pacing slightly. "Thatquestion." His eyes softened—but not with kindness. "That same, desperate, tired question that always comes next."
He faced her fully, his expression unreadable.
"You misunderstand something, Lolopechka. I didn't tell you this because I wanted you to carry the burden."
His eyes darkened, and suddenly, it felt like the walls themselves were closing in.
"I told you this so you would understand."
"Understand what?"
"That I amnothere to save this world."
The words crushed her.
Lolopechka staggered. "No…"
Abiel's voice was calm, matter-of-fact. "This world isdoomed. That is not speculation. That is certainty."
Her breath came sharp and shallow, her mind screaming for a response—for any way to refute him.
Undine snarled,"Then why are you still here?"
Abiel turned away, exhaling slowly. "…Because there is one future I have not seen."
Lolopechka froze.
His expression shifted, gaze distant. "My master left this world a few months ago before my awakening. Such as shame. The only person beyond my foresight." His lips barely moved. "If he still exist, then perhaps they hold the answer."
"So you're looking for him."
"The one person whose actions remain unknown."
Her voice was barely a whisper. "And if they tell you this world is doomed?"
Abiel's lips curled into something terrifyingly unreadable. "Then I'll stop trying to save it."
The room felt colder.
Lolopechka's stomach churned, but she forced herself to press on. "Who is this master?"
"His name…"He paused, as if savoring the moment. "…Raymon."
The name struck like a thunderclap.
Undine's magic recoiled violently. "Thatname—!"
But Abiel silenced her, his metallic gaze locked onto Lolopechka.
"Raymon… isme."
The world shattered.
Lolopechka's breath stilled. "…What?"
Abiel's smirk didn't fade.
"In those ten thousand futures, there is one where I leave. Where I abandon everything. Sever my ties to this world. Walk beyond the boundaries of time itself. That version of me—the one who vanished—is the only one beyond my foresight."
Lolopechka stared.
"…You're searching for yourself."
"Using the stone. In the multiverse."
He left the chamber. The sound of the door clicking shut echoed louder than it should have, settling into the still air like a presence refusing to leave. Lolopechka sat in the quiet, hands resting against her lap, fingers curled inwards—too tense, too uncertain. Her body still felt off, as if something inside her had shifted, something no longer sitting in its proper place.
The words clung to her like an imprint, pressing into her skin in ways she couldn't shake. She swallowed, but the tightness in her throat wouldn't ease.
"Lolopechka."
Undine's voice was steady, careful."You should rest."
Rest.
A simple thing, yet impossibly out of reach. She brought a hand to her temple, kneading lightly, but the pressure did nothing to clear the haze forming behind her eyes. The feeling wasn't unfamiliar. No, it was something else. Something remembered. Like the warmth of fingers brushing against hers—not in passing, but in the weight of an arm at her back—not guiding, but keeping her close.
Like the quiet pull of someone standing just near enough that their breaths had once found the same rhythm. Lolopechka's hands curled tighter. She had never known those moments.
And yet, shehad.
Her gaze fell to her wrist, to the bare skin where it felt—just for a second—like something should be there.
A tether. A touch.
A presence.
She exhaled deeply, shaking her head.
No. This was ridiculous. Impossible.
And yet...
The way he had looked at her—not with longing, but with recognition.
As if, for the briefest moment, he had expected her to remember, too. As if he had spent months standing at the edge of something he once held, only to watch it slip away in a timeline where it never even began.
The feeling hadn't come from nothing. She could still feel the weight of it resting against her ribs—not love born from possibility, but from something already lived.
Something real.
And now, it wasblooming.
A slow, quiet ache.
A knowing.
Lolopechka pressed a palm against her chest, steadying herself. She didn't know what to do with it. But no matter how much she tried to silence it, the truth had already settled deep inside her.
Abiel waswrong.
Not everything had been lost. Notyet. She believed. In one timeline.
"Undine..." She called. Tears flowing. Crying.
They had loved each other.
Suggest people in seeking stone team operations please! HAHA. Someone who could fit well in motivations.
RIP GADJAH HHAHHHAHHAHHAH