The room was quiet except for the faint rustle of parchment.
A lantern burned low on the table, its golden glow flickering against the stone walls of the inn. Shadows shifted across maps spread wide—trade routes, political borders, scouting reports, sketched troop movements, markings in Reider's clean, controlled handwriting.
Reider stood over the table, one hand resting lightly near the edge, the other tracing a line across the northern pass. His silver hair fell slightly forward, casting a thin shadow over his crimson eyes. His posture was relaxed, but there was nothing idle about him. His mind was moving, calculating, adjusting.
Behind him, near the doorway, Mei stood in silence.
She had been there for several minutes.
Watching.
Waiting.
Her fingers curled lightly into the fabric of her sleeves. She had rehearsed this moment in her head countless times. Every possible reaction. Shock. Anger. Suspicion. Distance.
She inhaled slowly.
It's time I tell him the truth.
Reider didn't turn immediately—but his voice broke the silence without hesitation.
"You've been standing there for a while. What's wrong?"
Mei stiffened slightly.
Of course he noticed.
He always noticed.
He turned just enough to look at her over his shoulder, expression calm, eyes sharp but not harsh. There was no pressure in his gaze—only quiet attention.
She swallowed and stepped forward, fidgeting slightly with her hands.
"There's… something I need to tell you."
He raised one eyebrow faintly.
"Go ahead."
No tension. No impatience. Just permission.
Mei drew another breath and forced herself to meet his eyes.
"I'm a god."
The words left her mouth and settled into the air like something heavy.
The lantern flame flickered.
Reider's expression did not change.
"…Alright."
Mei blinked.
"That's it?" she demanded. "No shock? No questions?"
He shrugged lightly.
"I figured you were something more than human."
Her arms crossed instinctively, a faint pout forming on her lips.
"You figured? And you didn't say anything?"
A subtle smirk touched his mouth.
"It wasn't my business to pry. You tell me things when you're ready."
She stared at him for a long moment before letting out a frustrated breath.
"That's… frustratingly considerate of you."
He leaned back against the table, crossing his arms. The maps shifted slightly beneath his weight.
"So," he said evenly, "what's the full story?"
Mei's gaze drifted away from him. Toward the window. Toward the dark beyond it.
"I ran away from home before I fully awakened," she said quietly. "I was… scared of what I'd become."
His head tilted slightly.
"You mean Heaven, right?"
She nodded slowly.
"Yes. I was supposed to awaken as a goddess. My divinity was sealed, dormant. But I left before the ritual could complete."
The lantern light softened the edge of her expression. There was no arrogance in her confession. Only uncertainty.
"Why?" Reider asked.
Her fingers tightened into fists at her sides.
"Because once I awaken… I might lose myself."
His eyes softened—barely.
"Lose yourself how?"
She struggled for the right words.
"I don't know exactly," she admitted. "But gods aren't like mortals. Their thoughts change. Their emotions dull. They begin to see existence differently. Life becomes… numbers. Faith. Worship. Systems. I don't know if I'll still be me once my full divinity takes over."
Silence stretched between them.
Reider studied her.
Not judging.
Not dismissing.
Understanding.
"You're afraid of becoming something you don't recognize," he said quietly.
She nodded.
"Yes."
The admission left her shoulders lighter.
Reider straightened.
"Then just don't forget who you are."
Mei blinked.
"It's not that simple, Reider."
He shrugged again, matter-of-fact.
"It can be. If you don't want to change, then don't."
She stared at him—then laughed softly.
"You really do make things sound easy."
"I don't waste time overthinking things."
That much was true.
She smiled, tension easing from her posture.
"Maybe I should learn from you."
He turned back to the maps.
"Just remember," he said calmly, "no matter what happens, you're still you. And if you forget—"
His voice was steady.
"I'll remind you."
Her chest tightened unexpectedly.
She hadn't realized how badly she needed to hear that.
"You're surprisingly sweet when you want to be," she teased.
He sighed.
"Don't start."
She giggled quietly as he returned to his planning.
The conversation settled into something peaceful.
Unspoken trust.
Night deepened.
The lantern eventually burned out.
And the world shifted.
Reider slept.
The inn room was dim and still, moonlight filtering faintly through the window. Vael lay on one side of him, composed even in sleep. Eryndra rested on the other, her dark hair spilling across the pillow. Mei lay close, one arm loosely draped over his chest.
Their breathing rose and fell in quiet rhythm.
Then—
The world blurred.
Sound vanished.
Light dissolved.
Reider opened his eyes into endless white.
No walls. No sky. No ground—yet he stood.
"…A dream?"
His voice echoed faintly.
"Finally," a voice said behind him, calm and familiar, "we get to talk properly."
Reider turned sharply.
And froze.
Standing a few steps away—
Was himself.
The other Reider stood with hands folded behind his back. Same silver hair. Same crimson eyes.
But older.
Not physically—there were no wrinkles, no visible age.
It was something deeper.
His posture carried centuries of quiet knowledge. His gaze was steady and ancient, like someone who had watched empires rise and crumble without blinking.
"You're… me?" Reider asked.
"Yes and no," the other replied. "I am what you could be. What you will be—given time."
Reider crossed his arms.
"And I suppose you're here to give me cryptic wisdom."
The other smirked faintly.
"Only if you consider common sense cryptic wisdom."
Reider frowned.
"Then get to the point."
The smirk faded.
"You're moving too fast."
Reider raised a brow.
"Physically? Or figuratively?"
"Both."
The void pulsed faintly around them.
"You were born only a few months ago," the older version said calmly, "yet you act like someone who's lived a lifetime. Your power grows. Your body adapts. Your instincts sharpen. But your mind hasn't had time to keep up."
Reider's expression hardened slightly.
"I don't have the luxury of time. If I stop, I fall behind."
"And if you rush," the other countered, "you break."
Silence.
"Strength isn't just power," the older Reider continued. "It's understanding. Without understanding, power is unstable. You may survive battles. You may win wars. But eventually, you will collapse under your own growth."
Reider didn't answer.
Because some part of him knew it was true.
The other stepped closer.
"You need to wait and learn."
His fists tightened.
"There are things coming," the older Reider said, voice steady now. "Monsters beyond your understanding. Forces that cannot be overpowered through brute instinct alone. If you don't take time to grow properly—you will not survive them."
Reider looked up slowly.
"…So you're saying I should slow down."
"Not slow down," the other corrected. "Be patient. Absorb. Adapt. Let experience carve you properly instead of forcing yourself into shape."
The white void began to tremble faintly.
"When the time is right," the older Reider said softly, "you will know."
Reider closed his eyes briefly.
The words settled into him.
When he opened them again—
The other was fading.
"Remember, Reider…"
His voice echoed as his form dissolved.
"Power without understanding is just chaos."
Reider reached forward slightly—
And the dream shattered.
He woke.
His eyes snapped open in the dark.
The room returned slowly.
The soft breathing.
The faint scent of wood and linen.
The weight of arms around him.
He stared at the ceiling.
"Wait and learn, huh…?"
He turned his head slightly.
Mei lay close, her expression peaceful. Eryndra had shifted nearer in her sleep, unconsciously clinging to him. Vael, on the other side, mirrored the motion without awareness.
He exhaled slowly.
"…I need a bigger bed."
Mei stirred faintly.
"Reider… don't be reckless…" she murmured in her sleep.
A faint smirk touched his lips.
"You too, Mei," he whispered.
He closed his eyes again.
Outside the window, the city of Eldross remained wrapped in darkness.
But far beyond the rooftops—
The first faint hint of dawn began to glow on the horizon.
The world would move again soon.
Enemies would gather.
Forces would shift.
But for now—
There was stillness.
And in that stillness, Reider allowed himself something rare.
Patience.
He let his breathing slow.
Let the warmth beside him anchor him.
Power without understanding is just chaos.
Fine.
Then he would understand.
And when the time came—
He would not break.
The inn remained silent as dawn crept closer.
And Reider, eyes closed once more, drifted back into sleep.
But this time—
With quiet resolve.