***

An endless field of red flowers glowed and pulsed beneath a sky the color of embers.

In that field stood multiple graves with broken tombstones, their inscriptions worn smooth by time.

From the center of the graves, a gargantuan Tree of Death sprouted, its black branches reaching up to the dying Heavens like grasping fingers.

Above it appeared a dark but glowing figure...

An Angel.

Its lonely light was the only thing revealing the world around it.

This Angel was Falling, wrapped by a monstrous black snake that was Hellbent on killing it, its coils tightening around the Angel’s wings and torso.

Both were reaching out to what was below...

A sight that brought nothing but dread.

***

Malik had just set off something he could never take back.

And yet he did not think about that, too consumed by a single emotion.

He felt rage, rage, and RAGE!

A fury so blinding that it threatened to swallow everything else!

It seemed unending in one moment and was gone the next, leaving him hollow and cold.

Malik had blinked back to where he once was:

The Sultan’s Hall.

Before him stood Amal.

Yes, Amal, not the Entity.

Her face paled greatly before she lost consciousness, her body crumpling forward.

Springing forth, Malik caught her before she could hit the ground, his arms gently wrapping around her frail frame.

He laid her gently on the throne, arranging her limbs so she would not fall, and stepped back to look at her.

Her breathing was shallow but steady, her face peaceful despite everything.

It appeared that, indeed, no time had passed since his journey to the East.

’Was there truly no concept of time in that land?’

Perhaps that was why all seasons existed at the same ’time’ there.

Time itself did not flow.

The East was a land outside of chronology, a wound in the fabric of reality where moments stacked on top of each other.

In any case, only after releasing her did he realize that his Holy Relic, Spine Splitter, had not returned with him.

Perhaps it was not something he could take back so easily, at least not from that land.

The sword had come to him through means he did not fully understand and had left him much the same.

Though if his sword had stayed, then that meant that Safira and Huda had been kicked out like he was.

They would have woken up wherever they once were, confused but, thankfully, alive.

One good thing amongst the many bad.

Sighing out loud, he moved a hand through his daughter’s purple hair, brushing the strands away from her forehead.

She looked so young when she slept, so fragile.

’How do I keep you safe?’

Malik needed to find a way of stopping IT from controlling her.

The Entity had spoken through her mouth, used her hands, and made her cry tears of black.

He simply could not have her go through that again. He could not stand by and watch as something so evil wore his daughter’s face.

But he did not know where to start.

And so, he began to think.

Malik thought about all that had happened, about the dream, the sword, the trees, and the snake.

He let the pieces settle in his mind, turning them over like stones, looking for the patterns beneath.

First, what the Hell was that dream?

A field of red flowers, graves, Tree of Death, and the Falling Angel wrapped in a serpent.

Was it a prophecy for his future, a glimpse of something yet to come?

The snake... was that the Entity?

Both the Angel and the snake had been Falling, both had been reaching out for something below.

What was that ’something?’

How significant was it that both of them were desperate for it, willing to risk everything to grasp it?

Unfortunately, and as expected, Malik had no answers at all.

He did not even understand why or how that dream had appeared to him all of a sudden.

Perhaps this Accursed Demon he killed was one of time, its nature tied to the flow of moments.

Or perhaps it devoured time, and killing it had released something trapped within.

’Hm.’

Second, Malik needed to answer the question of the sword.

How had the Spine Splitter gotten to the East?

He did not know the exact mechanism, but he had a solid guess that built on his earlier theory.

Some of the Trees of Life in the East protected him and the others from Corruption, while many did not.

Again, that was a direct result of his past self’s actions in Hell, of cutting the roots that connected Devil’s Maw to the main Tree of Death, which finally stopped his people from Falling Into Depravity and becoming Demons.

Since he was not exactly able to end the main Tree of Death—much like its direct counterpart in the East, the gargantuan Tree of Life—the connection between them remained entirely functional.

That was how the Demons passed through!

How it reached both them and the others planets.

It was all connected!

Though seemingly complicated, all of it made sense.

’...hm. So what I did in Hell made it somewhat possible to reach the end.’

That revealed just when the expeditions began to arrive.

And, since the trees were directly connected through this metaphysical bridge, somehow, someway, the sword had made its way through the spaces to him, deeply embedded in that giant Crowned Demon he had killed.

’This is a game of Gods.’

While he was a direct participant, at this moment, he felt like a mere bystander.

Technically speaking, his life as the Sultan had just begun, and he’d already met an enemy that required this much thought to even fathom.

If this were a game, this would be the equivalent of him just spawning only to be ambushed by the secret boss that was many times stronger than the final boss itself!

Truly, a game of Gods.

And as if to aid that point, a sudden sound from the throne grabbed his attention.

No, it was not Amal waking up, but it seemed just as significant.

From the right armchair of the Golden Throne, a secret compartment slid open with a soft click, revealing an orb that dropped to the ground and rolled to a stop against his foot.

Raising a brow, Malik bent down and picked up the orb.

It was white, glowing, and warm to the touch, but nothing about it seemed remarkable.

He turned it over in his hands, inspecting the smooth surface and the faint pulses of light within.

’Ah.’

IT was not the only one who had prepared.

Before Malik, the Truth he chased after revealed itself.

That ’Truth’ came in the appearance of two handsome, incredibly familiar, golden-haired men.

They materialized from the orb’s light, their forms translucent but solid enough to see.

Actually, ’incredibly familiar’ was putting it lightly.

The two looked almost the same as he did!

Only slightly different, the way twins would differ.

The only difference was that the two had flecks of red in their hair.

One wore white robes, the other black, much like Malik’s own dark silks.

It seemed that the past Malik had planted a memory of his Soul into this Holy Relic, knowing that on his return, he might just need its help.

But of course, he knew that it could have been gotten rid of by his enemy, and so he seemed to have made a prerequisite for it.

Amal, his very daughter, was the trigger.

He knew that she was less resistant to IT’s Corruption thanks to her frail body. So he made it so that once her Corrupted body sat on the Golden Throne for a while, the contraption would finally move, revealing the Holy Relic.

The fact that he had done this without future sight or anything of the sort spoke of how clever he was—or his past self was, at least.

He had anticipated the danger to his daughter and prepared a contingency.

Much of what Malik knew so far had been a result of his own efforts.

He had not been given a book to tell him where he had found himself, who he was, or what was going on.

Sure, his one fragmented flashback had helped kickstart some of that, but most of it he had gleaned from conversation, observation, and calculation.

But that was now winding down, and he still required more.

And so... this little secret could not have come at a better time.

Yes, it came at the cost of the very thing he wanted to prevent, but his victories were often bittersweet, weren’t they?

"Hm."

The white-dressed Sultan softly smiled at Malik, his golden eyes holding a mixture of sadness and relief.

"Do you remember me?"

Finally, his very much-needed ’break’ had arrived.

[End Of Volume One: Remember me?]