The world around Zack suddenly vanished. One moment, he was standing in the familiar, cold emptiness of the academy's evacuation area, staring at the lifeless bodies of his parents. The next, everything dissolved into darkness, plunging him into a void of nothingness.
At first, Zack felt a strange sensation of weightlessness, as though he were floating in the abyss. His thoughts swirled with confusion. Had he died? Was this another twist in his eternal cycle of failure? Or was this yet another cruel trick of fate?
A distant echo reverberated through the darkness, a voice that seemed to emerge from every corner of the void. It was deep, resonating with authority and an unsettling calm.
"This world... this world needs to be cleansed."
Zack's body tensed, his grip tightening on his spear, though there was nothing to strike. His senses, though sharp, couldn't make sense of the shadowed expanse around him. The voice continued, its words drifting in and out, like a fading wind.
"Slavery, war, murder, lust... All of it festers in this world like a disease. It must be eradicated. Only through purification can it be saved."
Zack narrowed his eyes, trying to make sense of the voice. He'd heard many things before, in his countless lifetimes—whispers of gods, of demons, of powers beyond comprehension. But something about this was different. He could feel the weight of the voice's presence, a terrible hunger and malice beneath its smooth tone.
The voice paused before continuing, now with a more sinister edge.
"Join me, Zack. Help me cleanse this world of its sins. And I will give you what you desire most—your parents. I will bring them back to life, so you can see them once more. They will be yours again, forever."
Zack froze, his heart skipping a beat. The offer hit him like a punch to the gut. His parents... back alive. The very thing he had longed for in every life, the thing that had driven him forward even as he failed over and over again.
The voice seemed to savor the moment, as if expecting Zack to be moved, to jump at the opportunity. But instead, Zack began to laugh—soft at first, then growing louder.
The laughter was laced with a raw edge of pain and bitterness, but there was no joy in it. It was hollow, as if the laughter itself was a way to mask something deeper—an anguish he had carried with him for lifetimes.
"Don't fool me," Zack said through his laugh, his voice tinged with both agony and annoyance. He was certain now—he knew exactly what this was.
The voice faltered, as if taken aback by his response.
"I know what you are," Zack continued, a wry grin spreading across his face. "You think you can deceive me, but I've seen this before."
There was silence for a moment, and then, slowly, the darkness began to shift. From the abyss, a figure emerged—a tall, imposing man clad in an impeccable suit, his features handsome, almost too perfect. His eyes, though, glowed a vivid red, and the mischievous grin on his face was the only thing that betrayed the malevolent nature beneath his polished appearance. The figure was impossibly charming, too refined to be anything but a master manipulator.
It was the Apostle of Deceit.
"You... how did you know?" the Apostle of Deceit asked, his voice now tainted with curiosity. "How could you possibly know who I am? How do you know about my plans? We've never met, have we?"
Zack stood his ground, his expression unreadable. "It's just a guess," he said flatly. "You've been in my mind, manipulating me all along, haven't you? Whispering your lies, showing me illusions. But none of it changes the fact that I know who you are. And I know what you want."
The Apostle of Deceit tilted his head slightly, as though intrigued. "You've seen through my tricks so easily," he mused, his grin widening, revealing sharp, white teeth. "Impressive. But how do you know all of this? How do you know about my manipulations?"
Zack's eyes narrowed as he stared into the red glow of the Apostle's eyes. "It's not hard to guess," Zack replied, his voice cold and steady. "You're the Apostle of Deceit, aren't you? Your whole purpose is to lie, to manipulate, to twist the truth. You thought you could break me down, confuse me, but I've seen it all before. You're just a shadow in my mind, nothing more."
The Apostle of Deceit's eyes gleamed with an eerie satisfaction, and he stepped forward, the air around him crackling with energy. His smile never faltered. "You're a curious one, Zack. But you still don't understand, do you? I am not just in your mind. I am your mind—your doubts, your fears, your temptations. I have been with you all along, and you've never noticed. I am the one who shapes you, who guides you. I am the answer to everything you've been seeking."
Zack remained silent, his grip tightening on his spear as the Apostle's words washed over him. He could feel it—the familiar pressure, the manipulation, the subtle twisting of his thoughts. But he wasn't going to let this happen again. He wasn't going to fall for it.
"You want me to join you," Zack said, his voice steady, "but you're lying. You've been lying from the start. You want to save the world by destroying it, to cleanse it by burning it to the ground. And you think I'll be fooled by your promises?"
The Apostle of Deceit's grin faltered, his eyes narrowing in slight frustration. "You don't understand, Zack. You don't understand the depths of the world's corruption. This world needs cleansing. You need cleansing. And I will help you do it."
Zack stepped forward, his eyes locking onto the Apostle with unflinching resolve. "I've seen what your so-called 'cleansing' looks like," he said, his voice darkening. "I've seen it in every life I've lived—slavery, war, death, destruction. And I've seen you—you, the one pulling the strings from behind the curtain. Don't fool me."
The Apostle's smile disappeared completely now, replaced by a cold sneer. He reached out, pulling a long, gleaming sword from the void itself. The weapon seemed to hum with a dark energy, its blade reflecting the cruel red glow in the Apostle's eyes.
"You are so sure of yourself, aren't you?" the Apostle said, his voice dripping with disdain. "But you have no idea what you're up against. I've seen your pain, Zack. I've seen your failures. You can't escape your fate. You can't escape me."
Zack didn't flinch. He didn't back down. In fact, he smiled—almost grimly—as he stared at the approaching figure of the Apostle of Deceit.
"Goodbye," Zack said simply, his voice calm, almost serene.
Before the Apostle could react, Zack surged forward, moving faster than the Apostle could follow. In a fluid motion, he slammed his spear forward, driving it straight through the Apostle's throat. The weapon met resistance, but Zack didn't hesitate. With one final, brutal thrust, the spear tore through the Apostle's form, ending the illusion in an instant.
The Apostle of Deceit's face contorted in shock, his red eyes wide with disbelief as his body disintegrated into nothingness. For a moment, the world around Zack flickered, as if reality itself were shaking, then everything collapsed into blackness once more.
Zack woke with a jolt, his body still tense from the fight. He blinked a few times, trying to make sense of his surroundings. It took a moment for him to realize where he was. The familiar scent of sterile bedding filled the air. He was in the small room for recovering patients—the same one he'd seen countless times in his endless cycle of life and death.
For a moment, the world seemed unreal, like he was still caught in the remnants of the illusion. But then he felt a soft weight beside him.
Looking to his left, Zack's heart skipped a beat. There, lying peacefully on his bed, was Yurina. Her blue and white uniform was slightly wrinkled from sleeping, and her expression was calm and serene, as if she were in a deep, restful sleep.
Zack exhaled slowly, his mind racing with what had just transpired. The Apostle of Deceit was gone. He had been right. The voice, the promises, everything—it had all been a lie. But what did it all mean? What was the next step in his never-ending journey?
He reached out, his hand trembling slightly as he placed it gently on Yurina's head. Her hair was soft under his fingertips, and despite everything, he found himself at peace for just a moment.
She was here. She was alive.
Maybe, just maybe, that was enough for now.
Zack closed his eyes, his expression unreadable. There was still much left to do, and the journey was far from over. But for now, he could rest.
For now, he had a brief moment of peace.
End of Chapter