Three days had passed since Viola revealed her true rank to the world, and in all that time she barely stepped outside her house. A lot of people were trying to contact her but she ignored them all. She needed silence. She needed time to think.
During those three days, she did nothing but stay indoors, reviewing information, recalling memories from her previous timeline, and organizing her plans. Sheets of notes covered her desk, scribbles connecting events, names, and dates. Some pages were torn apart in frustration, others rewritten carefully. Everything she did now had to matter.
Because two years from now, the world would begin to collapse.
The gates would start opening more frequently. At first, people would think it was simply another spike in dungeon activity, something manageable. Hunters would respond as they always did, confident in their power. But the gates would not stop. They would multiply. Stronger monsters would appear and entire cities would fall.
And this time, Viola knew exactly how it would end.
Humanity would lose.
Back then, hunters overestimated themselves. Years of relative peace and controlled dungeon outbreaks had spoiled them. Many hunters grew lazy, satisfied with their current ranks and fame. Training slowed and cooperation disappeared. Competition became everything.
Instead of helping one another grow stronger, hunters fought for recognition and sponsorship deals. They eliminated rivals, chased rankings, and argued over glory while monsters quietly became stronger behind the gates.
They fought each other more than they fought the real enemy.
And civilians paid the price.
Cities were ravaged while hunters argued over leaderboard positions. Guilds refused to cooperate unless profit was guaranteed. By the time everyone realized the danger, it was already too late.
Looking back, Viola clenched her fists.
This selfish cycle was the reason humanity fell so quickly.
And Ezekiel had been one of its victims.
A capable hunter pushed aside, used, and eventually sacrificed because money and pride mattered more than saving lives. His death was not just caused by monsters. It was caused by the broken hunter society itself.
Viola closed her eyes, steadying her breath.
If she tried to reveal the future, people would never believe her. They would laugh, call her insane, or accuse her of seeking attention.
So what should she do?
She stared at the wall, deep in thought.
If humanity would not listen, then she needed another approach.
She would prepare quietly. Strengthen herself and those she trusted. Gather information. Change events subtly before disaster struck.
And before anything else, she needed to investigate the true reason the gates would begin opening more frequently.
She tapped her pen against her notebook.
And what could possibly be the most reliable source?
Of course.
The source itself.
She pushed aside her papers and stood up with renewed energy.
"Now," she muttered, adjusting her glasses, "the Elizabeth exclusive interview will commence."
Viola took her seat at the dining table, placing a notebook and pen in front of her. Across the table sat Elizabeth, casually eating from a plate piled high with food, her small dragon form perched comfortably on the tabletop. Crumbs scattered around her as she chewed happily, clearly unconcerned about the seriousness of the situation.
Viola cleared her throat, switching into what she imagined was a professional interviewer tone.
"Let's start with the first question," she said, pen ready.
"What are you? I mean... who are you exactly?"
Elizabeth glanced at her lazily while chewing.
"I already told you," she replied. "I'm one of the Twelve Rulers of the Great Labyrinth."
Viola wrote it down quickly.
"And what exactly are these rulers?"
Elizabeth swallowed and answered matter-of-factly.
"We are gods of the Abyss. And the things you humans call monsters are simply magical beasts from our world. Though their kind cannot be compared to us."
She puffed her chest proudly.
Viola raised an eyebrow. Elizabeth continued, clearly enjoying the explanation.
"They are lower lifeforms. Creatures driven mostly by instinct. Like animals, very dangerous animals."
Viola scribbled notes while Elizabeth flicked her tail.
"What you see when you enter a gate," Elizabeth went on, "are simply natural habitats of those creatures."
Viola paused.
"Then why are they here?"
Elizabeth shrugged casually.
"It's not only your world. Many worlds are dealing with the same problem. The gates connect them. Everyone is trying to stop the beasts from spilling out."
A chill crawled down Viola's spine.
"So... our world is being invaded?"
Elizabeth nodded.
Viola hesitated before asking her next question.
"But how does this happen?"
Elizabeth stopped eating and stared at her seriously for the first time.
"Are you sure you want to know?"
Viola swallowed. For a moment, fear crept into her mind. But then she thought of Ezekiel, of ruined cities, of the countless lives lost.
If she wanted to save them, she had to face the truth.
"Yes," Viola said firmly. "I want to know."
Elizabeth leaned back slightly.
"The Labyrinth is becoming overpopulated. The beasts multiply endlessly. Us rulers live in our own domains above the Abyss, separate from them, so we don't suffer the consequences directly. But the world itself... it seeks expansion."
Viola frowned.
"The essence of our world pushes outward," Elizabeth explained. "It searches for new lands where the beasts can spread. So it sends its influence into other worlds, opening gates. Creatures move through them to claim new territory."
Viola's grip tightened around her pen.
"So it's invasion. Taking resources. Taking land."
"Exactly."
Elizabeth stretched lazily.
"The rulers themselves are divided. Some enjoy invading other worlds. They like unleashing their power freely. But they can only descend during the final wave."
Her voice carried faint boredom.
"I used to enjoy it too. But after millions of years, destroying worlds becomes repetitive. Every world has something interesting, something unique. Watching them vanish feels like a waste now."
She poked at her empty plate.
"It's boring. Everything becomes boring eventually."
Viola stared at her notes, heart heavy.
Millions of years. Countless destroyed worlds. Humanity was just another target in an endless cycle.
Elizabeth slumped forward, resting her chin on the table.
"It's boring," she grumbled childishly. "Boring, boring, boring."
But for Viola, there was nothing boring about what she had just learned.
Because now, she understood the enemy.
And if she understood it, maybe she could change the ending this time.