What just happened?
Adam’s gaze flicked between the restored stretch of sand and the Awakened who had already resumed their battle as if nothing had occurred.
He stared intently at the forbidden zone.
What was that?
Regardless of rank, affiliation, or ability, everyone had been suppressed.
He had caught a glimpse of cracks shaped like a flower, but they vanished before he could study them.
Is that why I couldn’t hear that idiot’s voice?
The idea lingered, refusing to leave.
This place is already dangerous… but whatever is over there is worse.
A familiar face surfaced in his mind. Vicar would want this.
He paused for a moment. Assuming he doesn’t already have one.
Adam shook his head, cutting off the memory before it deepened.
His gaze prowled across the battlefield. I’ve been watching for minutes… and I still can’t find the Widow. Is she somewhere else?
He crouched again, weighing his options. He hadn’t entered this pocket dimension blindly—the demonic voice had promised something valuable.
Then, cracks thundered across the battlefield again.
Adam lifted his head sharply. Again? Which idiot stepped into it this time?
But no one had.
Instead of darkness, a hazy portal flickered into existence—phasing between solid and ethereal, like a wound trying to close.
“The mistress will soon emerge! Kill the roaches! Don’t let anyone enter the portal!” an Undertaker roared.
The transformed werewolves redoubled their assault, driving their opponents back.
Adam slowly stood. A devious smile crept across his face.
No wonder I couldn’t find her.
He moved.
A sudden burst of speed carried him forward as if the sand were stone beneath his feet. He slipped between clashing Awakened, untouched, unseen.
A breath later, he crossed into the forbidden zone. The world cracked again. A shockwave erupted outward, stripping invisibility from him and suppressing every active ability.
“Who the fuck is that?! Don’t let him into—”
Adam leapt. He plunged into the portal before the sentence could finish. The portal snapped shut.
The forbidden zone returned to stillness.
The Undertaker leader swore under his breath, staring at the empty sand. The battlefield quieted into an uneasy truce.
Massimo’s scowl deepened as he replayed the image of the intruder in his mind.
White hair. Sharp eyes.
Why does he look familiar?
His memory stirred. He shook his head.
There’s no way that was him.
A portal tore open in a frozen wasteland and spat Adam out before sealing shut.
Gray clouds churned above, unleashing endless hail. Winds howled across an expanse of silver-white desolation, flinging snow like blades.
“Great,” Adam muttered, rubbing his hands before tucking them beneath his arms. “From a desert to a tundra.”
Where am I supposed to go?
“What a day. Two visitors in a row.” The voice was deep. Amused.
Adam turned left.
Nothing.
What was that?
“Who’s there?” he demanded, summoning Cataclysm.
A low chuckle echoed.
A sharp snap followed. The storm vanished.
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The frozen wasteland dissolved into white. A simple metal table and two chairs stood in the center of an immaculate room without walls, doors, or windows.
An illusion?
Adam inhaled.
No… it feels too real. Is this a domain?
“Come in,” the voice said gently. “The cold can be unpleasant.”
A middle-aged man sat at the table, dressed in simple cotton clothing. A faintly illusory black object floated above his head, and his earrings shifted rhythmically from gold to emerald.
Adam did not move. His grip tightened around Cataclysm.
“Who are you?” he asked coldly. “And what is this place?”
The man smiled warmly.
“Forgive me. I should introduce myself.” He gestured to the empty chair. “Call me Dieden. And this… is my tomb.”
Adam didn’t sit.
“I’m not—”
A force seized him. Invisible and absolute. He was dragged forward and deposited into the chair.
What the—
The room remained sterile and endless.
“I apologize for the crude method,” Dieden said mildly. “Snow accumulation becomes troublesome.”
He folded his hands.
“I know you have questions. Perhaps suspicions.” His purple eyes studied Adam carefully. “But before you ask yours, indulge me in one.”
A pause.
“You’re not from this world, are you?”
Adam froze. His pulse skipped.
How did he know?
He leaned forward slightly, muscles coiling.
Dieden tapped the table once. Cataclysm vanished. The connection to the Omen severed.
Adam’s stomach dropped.
“Like I said,” Dieden continued pleasantly, “I have no intention of fighting you. Would you kindly answer?”
Silence stretched between them.
Finally—
“How did you know?” Adam asked.
Dieden chuckled.
“It is… complicated.” He tilted his head. “The simplest explanation is that I come from a place where identifying world travelers is our specialty.”
He smiled again.
“You answered me. I will answer you.”
Adam’s eyes narrowed.
“Where are you from? And what do you mean this is your tomb?”
Dieden laughed softly.
“That is technically two questions… but I will permit it. Consider it courtesy extended to a fellow traveler.”
He straightened.
“I am a Suppressor from Edril.”
A faint pressure filled the room.
“I created this space as a final measure—to preserve my body and consciousness from dissolution.
“It’s impossible for outsiders to live in this world without acquiring a new body. I made that mistake.”
Dieden slouched in his chair, fingers drumming lightly against the table.
“But you… you were fortunate.”
His purple gaze sharpened.
“What is the name of your world? And how did you cross over? Judging by the age of your soul, you haven’t even lived three decades—let alone a century.” A faint smile touched his lips. “I am curious. How did you shatter the world divide?”
World divide? I don’t even know what that is. And how does he know the age of my soul?
Questions cascaded through Adam’s mind.
He cleared his throat. “I’m from a place called Earth. Someone dragged me here against my will. I don’t know anything about a ‘world divide.’ I woke up here. That’s all.”
He gave Dieden a simplified account of his arrival in the Outworld—carefully omitting what felt dangerous.
Dieden listened in silence, murmuring inaudible words under his breath.
After a moment, Adam leaned forward slightly.
“It’s my turn now, isn’t it?”
Dieden blinked, as if surfacing from deep water. “Yes. Ask.”
“What is a Suppressor? And how did you end up here?”
From the moment Dieden mentioned Edril, Adam had suspected the so-called elixir originated from him.
Dieden’s bright eyes grew distant. A shadow of grief surfaced.
“I have asked myself that same question for several millennia,” he said softly. “What does it mean to be a Suppressor?”
His fingers curled into fists.
“I never intended to visit this world. I miscalculated. A single error.” His jaw tightened. “Because of me, Edril may have fallen. They trusted me.”
Adam watched him without reaction.
After a long breath, Dieden chuckled weakly. “Forgive me. Nostalgia is an indulgence.”
He straightened.
“When I left Edril, we were fighting for survival. Our population could not rival that of our enemies. So we turned outward.”
His gaze sharpened again. “We recruited from other worlds.”
He paused.
“I was one of many tasked with driving the Towers.”
The word carried weight. “I became arrogant. I overestimated myself.” His lips thinned. “I failed.”
The room seemed quieter.
“I have wandered in limbo for ages. How I arrived here… I do not know.”
He tilted his head.
“You came for Edril’s Elixir, correct?”
“Yes.”
Dieden smiled faintly.
“You are the third to arrive within the past year. The second within the past day.” His eyes studied Adam carefully. “I told the young lady the same thing I will tell you now.”
He spread his hands. “There is no elixir here.”
Silence.
“The first young man received an item unique to Edril for answering my questions. I gave my final valuable possession to the woman before you.”
His gaze lingered.
“Are you disappointed?”
“I didn’t expect much to begin with,” Adam replied evenly.
Dieden hummed, intrigued.
“And what will you do after you complete your mission? Do you intend to return to Earth?”
Adam’s heart tightened. “Is that even possible?”
Dieden’s smile brightened.
“I may not have treasures left,” he said softly, “but I can offer you something far more valuable.”
Adam’s brow rose. “What?”
“Knowledge.”
The word lingered.
“Knowledge of how to travel between worlds. Whether you can comprehend it… that depends entirely on you.”
Before Adam could respond, Dieden snapped his fingers.
Light erupted. Blinding.
Adam’s senses vanished. No sound. No sight. Only warmth—gentle, flowing, flooding into his skull.
What’s happening?
There was no pain. Only expansion. Time stretched.
Then, his vision returned. The white walls had dulled to brown.
Dieden had aged decades in moments.
His golden hair had turned silver. Deep lines carved into his face. Dark spots marred his once-youthful skin. His shoulders sagged as though bearing invisible weight.
“Do not make my mistake,” he said quietly, voice now fragile with age. “Study slowly. Entering a world is absurdly simple. Leaving one…” He smiled faintly. “That is nearly impossible.”
He exhaled.
“And remember—time does not flow equally across worlds. Millions of years may pass on Earth before you return.”
His purple eyes met Adam’s.
“Would it still be worth it?”
Adam said nothing.
Dieden snapped his fingers again.
A portal opened.
“That is your exit. It has been a pleasure—”
“Adam.”
Dieden inclined his head.
“It has been a pleasure, Adam. I wish you fortune on your journey.”
Adam stood. He walked toward the portal.
He paused. Turned.
He opened his mouth—but no words came. Instead, he gave a slight nod and stepped through.
“Thank you. Take care.”
His voice echoed as the portal sealed.
Silence reclaimed the room.
“An Earthling…” Dieden murmured thoughtfully. “From his eyes, I suspected Skyhaven. Or perhaps the World of Realms.”
He coughed lightly, glancing at his frail hands. “It has been some time since I felt this weak.”
A faint chuckle escaped him.
His gaze drifted to the dull, fading tiles around him.
“So this is where the legend of Dieden ends.”
The Suppressor leaned back in his chair.
Closed his eyes.
