"Hmm."

The Goddess closed his system panel with a casual flick of her wrist, the entire interface collapsing back into nothing as she folded her arms and regarded him with a long, evaluating look.

"You have grown further than I expected," she said, her tone carrying a mix of genuine approval and mild curiosity. "Your combat instincts are sharp, your mana control is well above average for a second ring, and the fragment has bonded to you far more deeply than it ever did with any of my previous descendants."

He blinked, not entirely sure how to respond to a compliment from a dead goddess who had just casually rifled through his entire system like it was a magazine in a waiting room.

"But," she continued, tilting her head as her pupils rotated slowly. "Why do you only have one summon?"

"What?"

"One summon," she repeated, holding up a single finger like the visual aid would somehow clarify the issue.

"You have the Veil Connection, which I designed specifically to pull trapped souls from the broken cycle and give them a second chance at life. You should have at least three by now, probably more given the amount of combat you have been through."

He rubbed the back of his neck, glancing off to the side where the cyan-haired woman was sitting on the grass a short distance away, clearly pretending not to listen while her ears were very obviously angled in their direction.

"I don’t want to rush it," he said after a moment, his voice quieter than before.

"Those souls are not tools or weapons, they were people who had their own lives before they ended up in the Veil. I’m not going to just pull them out one after another without thinking about what that means for them."

The Goddess stared at him, her expression unreadable for a long second before the corners of her mouth lifted into a small, warm smile that looked nothing like the composed, regal expression she had been wearing until now.

This one was softer, almost maternal.

"Very good," she said, and those two words carried a weight that went far beyond simple praise. "I am glad it is you. Out of every soul that could have been the last, I am truly glad it is you."

He didn’t know what to do with that, so he just looked at her.

The warmth in her expression faded slowly, replaced by something more urgent as the golden glow surrounding her body flickered for the first time since she appeared.

"But I do not have much time," she said, the shift in her tone immediately pulling every ounce of his attention to the front.

"This projection is burning through the fragment’s stored energy at a rate I cannot sustain, and once it runs out I will go dormant again until you recover enough of me to trigger another appearance."

She descended until her feet touched the flower-covered ground for the first time, standing directly in front of him with her wings folding neatly behind her back.

"So listen well, Hajin," she said, her eyes locking onto his with an intensity that made the air between them feel heavier. "Because what I am about to tell you is the truth about this world."

He straightened up, the lightness from the chat moment completely gone.

"The progression path you walk," she began, her voice steady and deliberate. "The rings that manifest around your arms when you channel power. The wings that your summon grows when she evolves. Those are not unique abilities that the fragment gave you."

She paused, letting the words settle.

"Those are the original paths. The ones that every soul in Ouro used before I was killed."

He stared at her, the meaning of the sentence taking a second to fully register before it landed somewhere deep in his chest and made his head spin slightly.

"Wait, what do you mean every soul? The people of Ouro use shards, they’ve always used shards."

"No," she said firmly. "Shards are not what they always had. Rings and Wings were the natural progression of every living being in this world, channeling mana through concentric halos and growing through earned experience. That was the system I built, the one woven directly into the fabric of Ouro itself."

His mouth opened slightly but nothing came out. He could feel the implications stacking on top of each other in his mind, each one heavier than the last.

If shards weren’t the original system, then someone or something had replaced it, and every single person walking around Ouro right now was using a counterfeit power structure without even knowing it.

"What happened?" he asked, his voice barely above a whisper.

Her expression darkened, the maternal warmth from moments ago replaced by something cold and ancient.

"Thousands of years ago, I discovered what the other gods were truly doing," she said. "They were not maintaining the balance of souls as they claimed. They were harvesting them, siphoning the cycle of reincarnation to fuel their own power and reshape reality to suit their ambitions. I tried to stop them."

She went quiet for a moment, the flowers around her feet swaying in a breeze that suddenly felt colder than before.

"They did not appreciate that," she continued. "So they turned on me. They set a trap, manipulated the circumstances to isolate me from my domain, and when I was at my weakest they made a deal with the Underworld King to deliver the finishing blow."

She stopped talking as she noticed Hajin was staring at the ground, his jaw tight and his hands clenched at his sides.

The sheer scale of what she was describing was almost too much to process at once, gods conspiring together, an entire world’s power system being rewritten, and the one person who tried to stop it being murdered for it.

She noticed the tension in his posture and the way his breathing had changed, so she waited, giving him the space to catch up before continuing.

"Are you alright?" she asked softly.

"Yeah," he said, letting out a slow breath and lifting his head. "Keep going."

She opened her mouth to continue but stopped, her golden eyes shifting downward as the light surrounding her body flickered again, harder this time, like a candle fighting against a sudden gust of wind while the edges of her wings began to blur and lose definition as the projection’s energy visibly drained away.

"I am running out of time," she said, a flash of frustration crossing her otherwise composed expression before she pushed through it and stepped closer, "so I will tell you what matters most."

"The one responsible for all of this, the shard system, the broken reincarnation cycle, the corruption spreading through the gates, all of it traces back to the Underworld King and the gods who conspired with him."

"They dismantled my system and replaced it with their own so they could control the flow of souls and continue harvesting them without interference."

Her body flickered violently, the lower half of her wings dissolving into golden particles that drifted upward like embers from a dying fire.

"With the fragment now fully awakened and your divine power rising, they will notice you," she said, her voice growing quieter but no less intense. "It may have already begun. The corrupted beings with demonic mana you fought, none of that is coincidence, and it will only get worse from here."

She reached out and placed both hands on his shoulders, her touch warm despite the fact that her form was barely holding together at this point while the golden light pulsed unevenly, sections of her body becoming translucent before solidifying again.

"The path ahead of you is going to be harsh," she said, and for the first time since she appeared, genuine sorrow crossed her face.

"And I am sorry that I could not protect you from it, I am sorry that the burden of restoring everything falls on your shoulders alone."

He didn’t pull away or say anything, just stood there looking into her eyes while the projection continued to collapse around her.

She leaned forward, her wings scattering completely into a shower of golden light as she pressed her lips gently against his forehead.

The warmth that flooded through him in that moment was indescribable, deeper and more absolute than anything the fragment had ever produced, and it carried with it a single, overwhelming emotion that he recognized instantly.

Love.

The kind a mother holds for a child she has watched over from a distance for a very, very long time.

"Good luck," she whispered against his skin, her voice barely audible as the last of her form began to dissolve.

She pulled back just enough for him to see her face one final time, that same soft, maternal smile still holding on despite everything else falling apart.

"Goodbye, my son."

The golden light collapsed inward with a soft, quiet sound, and she was gone.

The flower field fell completely silent as the breeze died and the cyan-haired woman sat perfectly still a distance away, her eyes glistening but saying nothing.

Hajin stood alone in the middle of the field, his hand slowly rising to touch the spot on his forehead where her lips had been while the warmth still lingered on his skin.

"Son?" he whispered.