---
---
The wind howled like it remembered the names of the dead.
EXIN stood at the edge of a city swallowed by silence.
No guards.
No gates.
Just skeletal towers rising like broken ribs from the earth—scraping at the bruised sky.
This was Kairis.
The once-capital of the world.
The city that outlived gods, kings, and time itself.
Now… it was dying.
Or worse—waiting.
---
He walked through streets paved in glass.
Not by design.
By fire.
By pressure.
The kind only war can forge.
Charred bones peeked out from collapsed sanctuaries.
Shrines defaced.
Statues cracked and bleeding dust.
EXIN didn't look away.
This was his legacy.
Or at least, a piece of it.
He just didn't know which war had burned this place.
---
Above him, the sky sagged—bloated with mana.
Not raw energy.
But corrupted.
Sick.
Alive in all the wrong ways.
The clouds pulsed red every few seconds, as if something enormous was breathing above the atmosphere.
And every breath bent gravity a little more.
EXIN pressed forward, resisting the nausea in his spine.
He wasn't alone here.
Not spiritually.
Not physically.
---
Then he saw it—
The Spire of Remembrance.
Half-buried in stone and regret.
Still humming.
Still intact.
EXIN moved closer, heart pounding not with fear…
…but recognition.
He'd built this tower.
Or something inside him had.
It pulsed with his essence.
Not the boy.
Not even the god.
But the truth.
And it was waiting.
---
He reached the base.
Laid his hand on the stone.
The surface shifted—like water pretending to be solid.
And then a voice spoke:
> "Do you remember what you promised, EXIN?"
It was his voice.
But older.
Colder.
Unforgiving.
> "Do you remember the pact?"
---
Symbols ignited around the tower's base.
Seven of them.
Faintly familiar.
One pulsed brighter than the rest: the hollow eye.
> Mark of Irreversible Truth.
EXIN didn't flinch.
> "I didn't come here to remember," he said.
> "I came here to keep the promise."
---
The Spire opened.
Not like a door.
Like a wound.
The stone pulled apart, weeping light—gold at first, then black, then gone.
Inside was darkness.
But this time, it wasn't empty.
Something waited within.
Watching.
Counting.
Feeding.
---
> "The Tower taught you to endure truth," the voice said.
> "This city… will teach you what that truth costs."
---
He stepped inside.
The walls moved like lungs.
Every breath he took made the floor ripple.
Voices called to him.
Names he had buried.
Faces he didn't want to remember.
> "Remi…"
Her name echoed again.
And this time, someone answered.
> "She remembers you too, EXIN."
His blood froze.
The darkness blinked.
And from it stepped a man in silver robes—his face masked, but his voice unmistakable.
> "You've come too late."
> "She chose to forget you."
---
EXIN didn't respond.
His body moved forward, almost on instinct.
But something was wrong.
His marks—silent.
No pulsing.
No warning.
Like the Spire had swallowed his power the moment he entered.
The masked man chuckled.
> "Welcome to the part of the world that doesn't believe in gods anymore."
> "You're just another ghost here."
---
The man raised his hand—
And the room shattered.
Time twisted.
And suddenly—
EXIN was alone in a moment from the past.
Standing in the ruins of Kairis as it burned.
Buildings exploded in slow motion.
Screams froze in the air.
Children turned to ash with eyes still blinking.
He turned.
Saw himself—his god-form—floating in the sky.
Crowned in light.
Holding judgment like a weapon.
---
> "You did this," the masked voice whispered beside him.
> "You burned the city before you ever tried to save it."
EX