’Am I real?’

The question consumed Rey’s consciousness with weight that threatened to shatter everything he’d constructed since his reincarnation.

Sephyr was still speaking—something about divine blessing and investigative authority—but her words became background noise against the existential crisis tearing through his carefully maintained composure.

False Worlds.

Everything he’d experienced in both lives... every struggle, every victory, every loss...

They had been meaningless shadows cast by light from reality that actually mattered.

’Unless..’.

Rey’s enhanced perception stabilized despite the philosophical vertigo threatening to overwhelm him.

His mind, refined through years of strategic calculation and survival instinct, began working through the implications with methodical precision.

’If False Worlds are illusory, if entities born there possess no true substance—then what defines "real"?’

He remembered Earth very well.

Not just facts and events, but sensations that transcended mere data. The taste of coffee on lazy Sunday morning, as well as the warmth of sunlight through the window.

Those experiences had felt real when he lived them. The emotions they generated—joy, pain, grief, love—had possessed weight and meaning that shaped who he’d become.

Did the fact that True Realm entities considered Earth "fictional" retroactively erase the subjective reality of those experiences?

’No,’ Rey’s mind concluded with growing certainty. ’That’s philosophical sleight of hand. Confusing ontological status with experiential validity.’

He thought of video games from Earth—digital constructs where characters followed programmed behaviors within simulated environments.

From an external perspective, those characters weren’t "real" in the sense that mattered. They possessed no consciousness, no genuine experience, no authentic existence independent of the code defining their parameters.

But what if they did?

What if a video game character could actually think? What if they could actually feel?

Actually experience their programmed world with genuine consciousness rather than simulated responses?

Would they still be "unreal" simply because their reality layer existed below the player’s dimensional framework?

Or would their consciousness—their genuine experience of existence, however constrained by the environment that contained them—constitute proof of reality that transcended external classification?

Rey’s mind seized on that distinction with intensity suggesting he’d identified a crucial philosophical foundation.

’Cogito, ergo sum. I think, therefore I am.’

Descartes’ foundational principle from Earth philosophy.

The recognition that conscious thought itself proved existence in ways that external validation couldn’t contradict.

He was thinking right now.

Experiencing genuine uncertainty, authentic fear, real calculation about survival and objectives. Those internal experiences weren’t illusions—they were direct, immediate, undeniable evidence of consciousness existing within him.

Which meant he was real.

Not in the sense that True Realm entities defined reality—based on dimensional superiority and power differentials and theological frameworks that positioned their existence as fundamentally more substantial.

But real in the sense that mattered for determining whether conscious experience constituted genuine existence.

’I exist because I experience existence. Because my consciousness perceives, evaluates, feels, decides. That’s proof that transcends any external authority’s classification of my ontological status.’

The training field stabilized around him as the philosophical foundation reconstructed itself on firmer ground.

But what about the others?

Alicia. The one he’d loved in H’Trae before the war with the Dragons killed her.

What of Lucielle, his wife?

What of Adonis, the Hero and trusted friend?

What of his children?

What of...

Had they been real?

According to True Realm theology, no.

They had been an entity born in a False World—temporary, insubstantial, ultimately fictional.

But Rey remembered them.

Not just facts about their existence, but genuine emotional resonance that their presence had created.

The way Alicia smiled when they spoke in the Library. The excitement in Lucielle’s eyes when discussing Magic and Skills.

The warmth of connection he and Adonis shared before circumstances tore them apart.

Those memories carried weight suggesting they recorded authentic relationships with conscious entities rather than programmed interaction with philosophical zombies.

’They were all real,’ Rey concluded with certainty that transcended theological classification. ’They thought, felt, experienced her world with genuine consciousness. The fact that their dimensional layer existed below True Realm didn’t erase the authenticity of their existence within their own experiential framework.’

The same logic applied to everyone else he’d known in both Earth and H’Trae.

They’d been real people experiencing real emotions within their experiential framework.

Most importantly...

’... They mattered to me! Until they were all taken away by the True Realm!’

Whether or not the residents in this layer of existence acknowledged that mattered not to Rey.

He could simply pretend that they were the fictional ones.

Thus, they didn’t matter to him.

’Those Devils who eradicated H’Trae committed actual murder. The annihilation of billions of conscious entities... a scale of genocide that is simply unforgivable!’

Rey’s gray eyes refocused on Sephyr, philosophical crisis resolved through recognition that subjective experience constituted its own proof of reality.

She was still watching him with concern mixed with curiosity, clearly trying to interpret his momentary dissociation as emotional response to discussion about lost memories rather than existential breakdown regarding the nature of consciousness.

"I hope we both find what we’re looking for," Rey stated, his voice carrying sincerity that transcended his manufactured vulnerability.

Because he meant it.

Not in the way Sephyr would interpret—not as a fellow survivor seeking closure about a mysterious past—but simply as a way to reinforce his quest for vengeance.

Sephyr smiled with warmth that appeared genuine.

"We will," she replied with conviction suggesting absolute faith in their eventual success.

"Together, as Angels serving the Holy Ancients, we’ll discover the truths we seek."

They parted as twilight deepened—though the eternal divine illumination prevented true darkness from settling over Academy grounds.

Rey walked alone through corridors glowing with soft light, his mind working through tactical implications of the conversation.

’The lie I told her should placate the Angels monitoring my integration,’ he calculated with cold precision.

It was a good cover story.

Perhaps better than he’d consciously designed, since elements of truth lent authenticity that pure fabrication couldn’t match.

’Sephyr believes me. And through her, the Angels will believe. At least for now.’

But Rey recognized this was a temporary reprieve rather than a permanent solution.

Eventually they’d demand more concrete answers. Eventually his concealment of Emperor, Prince, and Ethereal Conception would face more sophisticated detection methods.

’I need to advance quickly,’ he concluded.

He reached his residence, the defensive wards recognizing his mystical signature and granting entry.

Once inside, Rey allowed his carefully maintained Eru persona to dissolve.

***

Sephyr entered her residence with a mind churning beneath a composed exterior.

The conversation with Eru had been... illuminating. His confession about lost memories and mysterious power origins provided explanations that aligned with Church theology while accounting for observed capabilities.

But something about the exchange troubled her in ways she couldn’t quite articulate.

The way his expression had shifted when she’d mentioned False Worlds.

The brief moment of dissociation that suggested he was processing information far more complex than simple theological concepts.

’Was that genuine confusion from someone with lost memories? Or recognition from someone who knew more than he was admitting?’

Sephyr moved to her altar with practiced grace, kneeling before the statues of the Five Ancients in a position she’d adopted countless times.

But this time she wasn’t praying for guidance.

She was reporting.

"Holy Ancients, divine authorities who created reality and sustain existence, I offer information regarding the one called Eru..."

Divine energy responded immediately, the altar’s mystical structure activating with intensity suggesting entities on the other end considered this communication priority.

Sephyr’s consciousness was pulled from her physical body, transported through layers of existence to the space beyond normal perception.

But unlike her previous summons to the full Angelic Council, this projection was more intimate.

More direct.

Only one presence manifested in the void—Archangel Vehuiah, her eldest sister, whose attention focused entirely on Sephyr with intensity that made reality itself seem to compress.

"Report," Vehuiah commanded, her voice carrying harmonics that suggested she’d been waiting for this communication.

Sephyr organized her thoughts with practiced discipline.

"Eru confessed to hiding capabilities during our private sparring session. He demonstrated Sequence #3 techniques that exceed his ordinary classification significantly."

"His explanation?" Vehuiah prompted.

"Lost memories from family trauma. Mysterious power origins he doesn’t understand. Strategic decision to join Grand Expedition specifically to gain Church recognition that would legitimize unexplained capabilities."

Sephyr paused, considering how to articulate her uncertainty.

"The confession appeared genuine. His emotional response suggested vulnerability rather than calculated deception. He’s terrified his power might represent corruption despite Angels detecting divine blessing signatures."

Vehuiah’s mystical pressure remained steady, suggesting she was processing this information through frameworks Sephyr couldn’t access.

"Did you believe him?" the Archangel asked.

"Yes," Sephyr replied without hesitation. "His story explains observed inconsistencies while aligning with theological principles. Lost memories account for why his tactical awareness exceeds normal development. The divine blessing framework explains mysterious power origins."

"But?" Vehuiah prompted, clearly sensing Sephyr’s lingering uncertainty.

"But something about his reaction when I mentioned False Worlds troubled me," Sephyr admitted. "His brief dissociation that seemed too profound for simple confusion about theological concepts. As though the information carried weight beyond what my explanation contained."

Silence stretched between them as Vehuiah evaluated the report.

Then—

"I see..." Vehuiah’s voice cut through her confusion with professional directness.

"Your report confirms he possesses unexplained power. But whether that power represents blessing or corruption remains uncertain despite detection methods showing no abnormalities." 𝒻𝘳ℯℯ𝑤ℯ𝒷𝘯ℴ𝓋ℯ𝘭.𝑐ℴ𝑚

"I’ll try my best to—"

"Which is why we’re implementing the final test. One that will verify his authenticity definitively by placing him in a situation where concealment becomes impossible if he’s hiding something significant."

Sephyr’s attention sharpened instantly.

"What test?" she asked.

"Details will be provided when relevant," Vehuiah stated firmly. "For now, continue monitoring him closely. Build trust that makes him comfortable revealing more of his capabilities. Report any inconsistencies, however minor they seem."

Sephyr bowed her head with practiced deference, her red eyes blazing with conviction that eight years of theological instruction had refined to absolute dedication.

"I understand, Archangel Vehuiah."