The stars parted like whispering curtains as Chae-min traversed the celestial sea, her form gliding between galaxies on streams of residual starlight. Her aura pulsed in shades of indigo and obsidian, weaving distortions in space-time with each graceful movement. The emptiness of the cosmos embraced her in silence, yet her thoughts were anything but quiet.
> "I left him without a word."
Her ruby eyes glimmered with something unspoken—regret, perhaps. Muhan's face flickered through her mind like a forbidden memory. Their brief connection had been unexpected, electric, and, against her better judgment… lingering.
She sighed.
> "I hope he didn't take it to heart."
Her gaze sharpened as the colossal Cosmic Gate came into view—an interdimensional portal hovering on the edge of a collapsing celestial rift. It was constructed from ancient metal mined from the heart of dying stars, ringed with arcane sigils that shimmered in hues of emerald and violet. Beyond it stood the towering silhouette of the Ascension Spire, where the Demi-god of the Leveling Realm resided in eternal stillness.
Guarding the gate was a spindly demon with a serpentine neck and eyes like molten glass. He sneered as she approached.
> "Aww, Chae-min~ You're dead. Secretary Eun-ji's gonna skin you alive!"
She didn't stop. She didn't blink.
With a single flick of her finger, she accelerated through the gate—her body dissolving into beams of radiant light—and materialized instantly on the 1000th Floor of the spire.
The air changed. Heavier. Scented with ash, crushed orchids, and raw mana.
The grand Obsidian Chamber stretched out before her, lit by floating chandeliers made of suspended plasma. Dozens of demons sat in curved tiers around a colossal blackstone conference table, each one cloaked in robes of shadow or gold, their faces part-mask, part-monster. Murmurs filled the air like a low, sinister chant.
At the front stood Eun-ji, the secretary—stern and statuesque, her silver armor gleaming with divine inscriptions. Her expression was pure thunder.
> "You're FIVE minutes late!" she snapped, her voice ringing with command. "What could've POSSIBLY delayed you?!"
Chae-min offered a sly smile, brushing imaginary dust from her shoulder.
> "Just… playing with a human," she teased. "A hot one."
The room paused. Then cracked into howls of shock and derision.
"—A human?!"
"A waste of a pureblood!"
"She's joking… she has to be joking…"
But Eun-ji wasn't laughing. Her aura—a sharp, golden Level 301—flared violently, sending tremors through the table. Several minor demons winced or ducked.
> "A human?" she hissed. "You DITCHED a celestial summit for a fleshling?!"
Then came the true silence.
As if reality itself held its breath.
From the obsidian throne above them, the Demi-god raised a hand. Shadows coiled around him like vines—living, whispering things. His face remained veiled beneath a hood of quantum energy, yet two crimson eyes burned from beneath it—eyes that saw through lies, flesh, and time.
> "Silence."
The entire room stilled. The flames in the air dimmed. Even Eun-ji retracted her aura.
Chae-min didn't bow. She stood tall.
The Demi-god's voice returned—low and cold, like glacial thunder.
> "This human… who is he?"
Chae-min answered without hesitation.
> "He's the one who ended the rampage of your puppet, See-hoo. The one who held back, but still won."
The temperature dropped. Words failed the onlookers.
Even the flame demons stopped breathing.
For a long, silent second, the Demi-god said nothing. Then:
> "...Interesting."
His fingers curled.
> "Let him be. For now."
And just like that, the meeting resumed—though no one truly recovered. Demons exchanged nervous glances, wondering just who this mysterious human was that had the Demi-god's interest... and Chae-min's.
Chae-min took her seat, but her mind had already drifted back to that boy with storm-colored eyes and a grin too confident for his own good.
---
Planet Xylophia-IV – The Departure
Beneath a sky veined with aurora threads and three orbiting moons, Wysteria Academy's interdimensional students stood in line at the launch pads. Towering crystal trees pulsed around them like living glass, each humming with stored aether. Distant beasts roared in the misty jungles beyond the cliffside ridge, their cries echoing like prehistoric drums.
Hovering above the platform was the sleek Nano Ship: FLUX, its curved hull layered with nanite armor, glowing softly with ethereal blue veins. Its rear thrusters pulsed with calibrated anti-matter energy, ready to tear through dimensions.
FLUX's AI voice rang from every communicator:
> ⟪"All students, please board the vessel. Departure in ten minutes."⟫
Muhan Lockhart stood with his arms crossed, facing the twin suns that bathed the sky in golden violet. His school uniform jacket fluttered in the breeze, but his expression was distant, almost cold. He could still feel the eyes on him—blushes from classmates, stammering greetings from admirers—but none of them mattered right now.
He was still haunted.
By her.
A sudden voice broke through the crowd.
> "Good morning, Muhan~"
Mi-cha, glowing like the rising sun, strolled up to him. Her lips were curled in a radiant smile, and her voice, like a melody from another life, made even the air feel warmer. She placed her hand gently against his chest, feeling the rhythm of his heartbeat.
He turned, offering her a rare, soft grin.
> "Good morning, Mi-cha."
They walked together up the ramp, the hum of anti-gravity beneath their feet.
But Mi-cha's heart was tangled in anxiety. Her mind spun with guilt.
> "I should tell him. About my true origin... about the Pjeonjaeham sect…"
But her tongue refused to move.
Before she could confess—
> "Yo, Muhan!"
Ji-hoon, with tousled hair and a sheepish grin, jogged up to them.
> "Sorry, Mi-cha. I need him for a sec."
Mi-cha faltered, but smiled politely. "It's okay. He can go."
Muhan gave her a quiet nod before following Ji-hoon toward the ship's lounge—a luxury hall with a glass dome above them that framed the stars like artwork.
They sat near a floating bonsai tree suspended in a kinetic stasis field.
Ji-hoon's tone darkened.
> "You've been off, man. Distant. Cold. You okay?"
Muhan raised an eyebrow. "I'm fine. Just preoccupied."
> "With what? Mi-cha? Or… something else?"
A long silence.
Muhan finally exhaled.
> "I encountered a demon. Level 300."
Ji-hoon's mouth dropped open.
> "A LEVEL THREE HUNDRED?! On this mission?! Are you nuts?!"
Muhan leaned forward, eyes gleaming with restrained energy.
> "I sensed her during solo training. She radiated power like I've never felt. I wanted to face her… But she vanished."
> "Sorry, Ji-hoon… I can't tell you the whole truth."
Ji-hoon shook his head. "That's insane, even for you. What if she comes back?"
> "Then I'll be ready."
Before Ji-hoon could respond, FLUX's voice returned:
> ⟪"Approaching multiversal rift. All passengers, secure yourselves for descent."⟫
The ship shuddered. Outside, the sky tore open, revealing a rift of shifting galaxies—where reality folded like origami. Students buckled into their seats, nervous chatter filling the air.
Mi-cha, now seated alone, stared silently out the window.
Her hand trembled.
> "I'll tell him. Next time… I'll tell him everything."
Meanwhile, Muhan gripped his seat's armrest, eyes focused not on the stars ahead—but on a memory.
> "I'll find you again, demon girl."
> "Next time, I'll make sure we finish what we started."