Surviving without God

The Executive Division greeted them with gloomy, abandoned corridors. Most of the lights were out, and not a single intact window remained. Cold air slipped in through the shattered glass, mixing with the smell of blood, whose stains covered the walls and floor. Huge pools of blood, not yet dry. ...This scene could have served as the perfect architectural reference for zombie movie buildings.

Even though this was Gunther’s first time here, and the layout resembled a labyrinth sunk in darkness, he found his way easily.

[Compass activated]

First, thanks to the compass, which spun as it pointed the way deeper into the building. And second...

“Khah... Looks like the others put up one hell of a fight.”

At Cheonmae’s words, Gunther’s gaze dropped to the floor. The entire corridor was littered with corpses. He stopped for a moment, reading the traces of the battle.

“This is...”

Clean cuts — Blanc’s ice blades. The marks of axe blows that shattered bone had surely been left by Yuria. None of his comrades were visible among the scattered bodies. Even so, Gunther’s frown only deepened.

Reason for concern number one: there was no sign anywhere of the other teammates who should have been here.

...And number two: every fallen body was wearing the uniform of the Executive Division.

Their faces. Muscles twisted too grotesquely for humans, eyes clouded over with a murky film. Jaws frozen in greedy snarls, as if even after death they still craved something. Gunther had seen something like this very recently. He let out a quiet breath.

“...I was too late.”

“No, they were just faster.”

Cheonmae, standing beside him, let out a faint breath. The sound was thin and broken, like air leaking from a deflating balloon. It became painfully clear why she had been waiting for Gunther alone outside while her subordinates fought.

“Senior.”

“...Don’t look at me like that. You’ve only been serving for one year.”

Cheonmae forced out a bitter smile.

“For thirteen years of service... I lasted quite a while.”

Her body had been turned into a mangled ➤ NоvеⅠight ➤ (Read more on our source) mess. The wound that began at her side stretched all the way to her lower back, and the makeshift bandage (apparently a piece of Yuria’s hood) had long since stopped helping. Blood that had nowhere left to soak in slipped off the edge of the cloth in heavy drops. Drip, drip.

She would not last long. Cheonmae understood that herself. But the light had not yet gone out of her eyes. She still had one final task left.

“Moonless. I... have to pass information on to you.”

...Gunther slowly nodded.

“What happened?”

“Too much.”

Cheonmae began her story.

The Fourth and Fifth Platoons had joined forces and managed to defeat Masiu. That victory could not be called anything but a miracle. If not for the “holy items” Gunther had given them, they would have been wiped out on the spot.

Of course, it was not only the items. Everyone had fought at the very limit of their strength. Surpassing their own capabilities, driven by nothing but duty. They fought desperately, clinging to life until the very end. No one retreated. Feats impossible under normal circumstances happened one after another, as if fate itself had favored them in that moment.

Yes, a miracle. Cheonmae described those miracles one by one. Far too thoroughly for a mere “transfer of information.” As if she were begging Gunther to remember every one of them.

Then silence fell.

“Rietta and Ryan died.”

...That should have been expected. But something inside Gunther slowly and irreversibly cracked.

Nausea.

Gunther could return. Thanks to ◆’s explanation, he knew that if he, as the “axis,” regressed, this timeline would simply disappear. And yet... And yet he could not just brush it off. Visions rose before his eyes: faces that had been smiling only recently, slowly covered over by bloody stains.

“We needed to regroup. But there was no time left. We felt a force approaching that made Masiu look like nothing.”

It was the Hierarch of Justice. All they could do was run. But where? Hiding was meaningless in the sealed Seventh District. So Levain, as always, made the cold decision.

“We go to the city center. Gather every useful piece of information we can, then meet up with Gunther.”

Luck did not smile on them — they met neither Seril nor Servan at the blockade line. A battle broke out to force a breakthrough, and in that chaos, Levain died.

“Run!”

Then true hell began. Knights and soldiers tore at each other’s throats. Those who followed orders, and those who refused. In the mad dance of swords and maces, it became impossible to tell who was enemy and who was ally.

“I decided we had to break through to the Executive Division. They know who we are, so there was hope they’d help us. Besides, we could get valuable information for you here. But most of all...”

Cheonmae’s fingers dug into Gunther’s shoulder. It was the hand of a master, one capable of drawing the string of a massive longbow with the force of a ballista, but now it was weak.

“I knew a smart bastard like you would definitely come to the Executive Division.”

But by the time they got there... they realized they had made a mistake.

“I felt an immense divine force.”

Cheonmae’s voice dropped lower.

“A horrifying, ominous burst of power... They were the powers of Seren Mayra and... Mordeyn. The moment they appeared, the Executive Division turned into the depths of hell.”

Gunther understood instantly. Mordeyn was the Evil God worshipped by the Cult of Protection. There was only one person capable of manipulating both forces at once.

Audrey.

She had been transferred to the Executive Division, and she carried out an attack like a self-detonation. Most likely some kind of curse that accelerated transformation into the undead. Because she was the one who had that sacred vessel.

The facts came together into a single picture. But it brought no relief. ...Cheonmae’s breathing was growing shallower.

“The rest... you can figure out on your own. There were still people inside, and the others went to save them. Left their beaten-up commander lying there like dead weight. Pathetic.”

Cheonmae’s body tilted. The weight pressing against Gunther’s shoulder was rapidly becoming unbearable. So heavy he could not take a single step.

“Senior.”

“Yeah.”

“...Are you scared?”

She did not know there would be a “next time.” Cheonmae gave a short snort.

“You, junior... really know how to ask fucked-up questions. Just like last time.”

The memory of the day Gunther had asked about the Tablets flashed through his mind. About what it was like to know the entire future had already been written down. Cheonmae went on, the words coming out like she was spitting them up.

“Of course I’m scared. Realizing that this is the end. It doesn’t feel real, and I don’t want to believe it.”

She laughed hoarsely.

“You know why I chose the bow?”

“No.”

“Because I’m a coward. Those freaks from Luthien... they’re terrifying. I really, really didn’t want to go up against them face to face. Nobody knows that. Ah... well, that sneaky Moon Wolf probably figured it out.”

Her blue eyes looked straight at Gunther. In those glassy pupils were reflected the ruined corridor, the moonlight, and the orange glow of the fire. 𝒻𝓇𝑒𝘦𝘸𝑒𝒷𝓃ℴ𝑣𝘦𝑙.𝒸ℴ𝘮

“But over time, I started being afraid of something else. I was afraid that the wishes of the people who supported, protected, and pushed forward this cowardly weakling until he became a commander... that their dreams of Luthien’s destruction and the continent’s freedom would never come true. That’s what’s truly terrifying. Enough to make you shake.”

“So listen to me carefully, Moonless. Or rather, Gunther.”

Cheonmae pulled away and, swaying, straightened to her full height. Gunther watched her. Everything around them went unnaturally quiet. In that silence, like sinking into deep water, Cheonmae clenched her fist and lightly struck Gunther in the chest.

“Don’t give up. Ever.”

.

.

.

He left Cheonmae’s body in the next room. He took her great bow, then piled debris outside the door, sealing the entrance shut. So that no one would dare disturb her. Gunther set off again. Following the arrow of the compass and the traces of his comrades’ earlier battles.

Soon, a scene came into view.

Blanc and Yuria were sitting on the floor, clutching Parco’s lifeless body. Familiar marks remained on his mangled corpse. Clean cuts from Blanc’s wind blades. Devastating axe wounds left by Yuria.

“Leader...”

“Gunther.”

He had thought they would not be able to go any farther. But Blanc was the first to rise. Then, pulling her up by the hand, Yuria stood as well. Blanc whispered so quietly he could barely hear her.

“I think I forgot.”

“...Blanc.”

“While we were with you, Gunther, danger never reached us... This time, it was just different.”

Blanc roughly wiped at her eyes with a dirty sleeve. Blood and pus smeared across her skin, leaving a streak on her face like bloody tears.

“We were ready for this from the start. Let’s go.”

Yuria said nothing. Gunther turned Blanc’s words over in his mind.

Right. This was a battle they had known about in advance. Blood, death, and irreversible decisions. They were moving forward without knowing whether there was a “tomorrow.” And Gunther had no right to stand still.

“Wait. Don’t attack.”

Gunther spoke only when someone’s silhouette appeared at the corner of the corridor. Blanc, who had already been about to release an ice blade, froze. Something was wrong.

It was the shadow of one person, but its outline looked unnatural. Shoulders too broad, the proportions of the torso warped. The gait was jerky. The figure walked tilted to one side, as if something were pulling it toward the ground. As though two shadows had merged into one.

Only then did Gunther understand. There were two of them. Someone was carrying a child.

“...You.”

Even in the dim light, Gunther recognized him. Edad.

“Eva... Eva...”

His daughter was with him. Through the cloudy film over her eyes, a pale green iris showed through. With her face buried in Edad’s shoulder, the girl was frantically tearing at his flesh. Edad trembled in pain, but with his teeth clenched, he kept taking step after step. It seemed he had recognized Gunther as well.

“What happened?”

“...The Bureau already knew about the ‘disease.’ I tried to get Eva out before it was too late... and this is the result.”

Like a true veteran, even in that nightmarish state, Edad gave a clear report on the situation. But it did not last long. Blanc and Yuria both looked at Gunther at the same time. Edad’s body began to arch in an unnatural way.

Gulp!

But Edad’s and Eva’s heads did not fly from their shoulders by his hand. Gunther stared at the man who had stepped out from behind Edad’s back. The man did not even look at Gunther, watching with flat indifference as blood ran down the tip of his sword.

“Werner Camaril.”

“...You know me? Raven.”

Of course he did. Gunther had met him in the family lands of Valloren before reality changed.

But the current Werner was strikingly different from that former one. And it was not because of the deputy director insignia of the Executive Division, nor because he was drenched in blood from head to toe. Werner’s eyes were dead.

“Valloren has fallen.”

“...”

“More precisely, it could not have failed to fall.”

He gave a bitter smile and pointed toward the end of the corridor.

“All the documents on this incident are in my office. There’ll be one walking corpse in there, but you don’t need to fear him. It’s the director of this cursed division... my father.”

Werner lowered his gaze. At his feet lay the intertwined bodies of Edad and Eva in their final embrace.

“...And my brother’s father.”

After saying that, Werner strode past Gunther with resolve. Toward the place where, from the depths of the corridor, screams that could hardly be called human were echoing.

Werner’s intentions were clear. He wanted Gunther to carry the information he had uncovered outside. For some reason, he had lost all trust in Valloren and had no choice but to rely on an outsider.

There was no time left for words. Clenching his teeth, Gunther dashed forward. Yuria and Blanc, without a word, headed in the opposite direction.

And finally...

Crunch!

Knocking aside the “director” wandering around the office with a single blow, Gunther grabbed the bundle of documents — the key to this entire catastrophe.

Grrr-r-r-r...

Outside in the corridor, a familiar sound rang out. And then...

B-BA-BAAM!

The office wall exploded into fragments, and a colossal iron hammer burst inside.

.

.

.

[Absolute Evasion activated]

When the dust and thunderous crash settled, the Hierarch of Justice stared at Gunther with genuine interest. The way one looks at an ant that had somehow managed to dodge the sole of a boot.

“Oh? Well, would you look at that?”