The White King remained seated upon his throne, his posture rigid yet restrained. Razor-sharp nails—like those of an insect—curled slowly against the armrest. The massive crown atop his head tilted slightly as he leaned to the side, squinting, studying Adam with unease.
Someone like him asking for help made no sense.
"Why do you seek power comparable to mine," the White King asked slowly, his voice low and cutting, "you who are already an Ascended One?"
No blades moved.No spells ignited. No power was made...
Only words balanced between them, fragile as a rope stretched too tight.
Adam lowered his gaze, then lifted his hand before the King. The edges of his fingers flickered—fading, translucent, almost unreal.
"That's what I'm wondering myself," Adam said quietly. "I need power that can sustain me… anywhere. Do you know that?"
The White King's eyes narrowed further thinking about it. "I cannot leave," he replied. "My kingdom has long suffered devastation from the Abyss."
Adam's impatience was visible now. Everyone felt it.
"If I destroy the Abyss you're talking about," Adam said flatly, "will you help me?"
That finally shook the King.
He leaned forward slightly, as if instinctively about to rise. "You are… peculiar."
Before the moment could deepen—
"My King!"
The yellow-haired jester sprinted forward, panic etched across his face. "I advise caution! These people—this one especially—speak fragmented, faulty words meant to deceive!"
The White King did not turn.
He already understood the confusion.Someone capable of unimaginable power asking for help was either madness—or something far more dangerous.
"How could I even help you," the King said, his voice tightening, "when your power eclipses most existence?"
The air crackled.Static filled the hall.
A burst of white aura spiraled outward. Knights tightened their grips on their drills.
"Rehan," Adam said calmly.
[Roger.]
With a flick of Adam's fingers, a barrier manifested—absolute, clean, suppressing. The King's power slammed against it and halted.
The pink-haired girl stared in awe. Even the White Knights remained frozen as their armor began to fracture under the strain, cracks spreading but never fully breaking.
Drills lowered to the floor.
"If you act," Adam said, raising his hands slowly, "I'll retaliate."
The White King stood.
The ground fractured beneath him. Space itself warped, bending under pressure as hundreds of white orbs bloomed from his form like miniature suns.
"I have no desire to fight," the King said, hands pressing against his crown, struggling to maintain restraint. "Not at the cost of this much disaster."
He exhaled sharply.
"But I am… unsettled. Maddened, even. By the thought that you may be trying to trick me."
Adam's patience snapped through his calm.
"I haven't erased you," he said. "Isn't that proof enough?"
His voice lowered.
"I need your help. That much is true."
The palace transformed.
White fire flooded the hall, consuming shadows as Dark Knights emerged within the light—standing unmoving beside the throne. It felt like standing within a sea of molten flame, yet no soldier fell. None retreated.
Only the jester fled.
He ran toward the back doors, sweat soaking his jester's costume, clutching his sleeves as darkness clawed at his heels.
Slowly… the energy receded.
The White King's voice returned, heavy with memory.
"I have fought vessels of the Abyss," he said. "And through them… my descendants reached a standstill."
Silence.
Then—
"Very well."
His wrath settled.
"I cannot grant you the power I wield," he continued. "But one of my sons can aid you."
He paused.
"But you have yet to tell me… how you will use it."
Time passed.
They walked through the lower halls as massive gates descended behind them. The White King raised a hand casually as they moved.
Yuruki peered through towering windows, eyes wide. Outside, orange orbs floated—artificial suns illuminating vast farms. Insects the size of horses, beetles and termites alike, labored alongside people trading goods throughout the city.
It was empty… yet alive.
Layer upon layer of enclosed city stretched downward, glowing like stacked constellations.
The retainers hid within the court chambers as the White King passed with the four outsiders.
"Who are they?" muttered a bloated retainer draped in white, jewels straining against his cloak.
"Why was the council not notified?" snapped a thin retainer, hand resting on his rapier, loyalty trembling with doubt.
Confusion spread.
Adam slowed.
"No," he said quietly, not turning. "I don't want power limited to this world."
The White King stopped and faced him.
"I've noticed," he said slowly, "that other worlds exist."
His thoughts drifted—to the Abyss, to outer realms, to the fragile connections through the Fairy Chamber.
"…And I know," he continued, "Maybe...That my son can help you."
Yuruki's eyes sparkled as she gazed across the city, a slow smile tugging at her lips. The purple‑haired boy watched her nervously, bewildered. "How… how are you so calm?" he asked, voice tight. "Has the fear in your head… disappeared?"
Yuruki shook her head, her grin widening. "No. I'm happy—happy with all the things I can do in this world."
The White King's eye's loomed behind her, silent and imposing. Yuruki tilted her head and called out, "This city… did you make it?"
The King's gaze drifted toward Adam before he spoke, voice steady but heavy with thought. "I did… with the vision that we desire."
Yuruki screamed, nudging Adam urgently. "Adam! Adam! Where did he get that power?"
Adam blinked, caught off guard. "Huh? I… I don't know."
"Then ask him!" Yuruki shouted, waving her arms. "Even you...How did you get that primordial—or something? You were literally just a fricking sold—ie"
but the King and the Savant Troupe both shot glances at Adam, clearly seeing him trying to get Yuruki to quiet down. She, of course, was having none of it, clearly just messing with him.
And then—suddenly—a deafening explosion tore through the city. Everyone's eyes widened. Dark, writhing tentacles surged from the blast, climbing and twisting over towers, arches, and brwidges like living shadows.
The White King didn't hesitate. In an instant, he rose, hovering above the shattered streets. Four wings unfurled from his back, each spanning the size of a house. Their feathers glinted white and silver, dazzling as they caught the light of the explosion. With a rush of air and power, he surged forward, faster than the eye could follow, aiming directly at the source of the destruction.
Adam's fingers clicked effortlessly. In response, the four of them—the pink-haired girl, Yuruki, Shade, and the purple-haired boy—floated upward, rising with him as though gravity itself had given way. Their eyes followed the path of the White King, the city's chaos reflected in awe and tension across their faces.
Yuruki tilted her head, laughing softly. "Looks like we're in for a show... So Gamelike"
The purple-haired boy clenched his fists, jaw tight. "I… I never thought that it was this easy."
Adam only smirked faintly, eyes calm as he let the group rise, letting the White King lead the charge toward the dark, writhing heart of the explosion.
The city below stretched and twisted, illuminated by firelight of gemstone and the eerie darkness glow of the tentacles. For a moment, all of them—friend and king alike—were suspended in a air travelling towards it, hovering above the chaos, ready to confront whatever emerged from the heart of the darkness.