100\% DROP RATE : Why is My Inventory Always so Full?-Chapter 469 - Out of Lives

Meanwhile...

In a chamber deep within Liberator Headquarters—

Seran stood by the window with his hands behind his back, looking out toward a sky he was not truly seeing.

His reflection in the glass looked wrong.

It was too vacant.

As though part of his mind had stepped half a pace away from the rest of him and was now waiting for something his thoughts had not yet managed to catch.

The door opened softly behind him.

A woman in white entered without hurry.

"What are you thinking about?" she asked.

Seran did not answer immediately.

His gaze shifted from the window to the table behind him.

Two communication devices rested there.

He stared at them for a long moment before finally speaking.

"Do you know," he said quietly, "why there are two communication devices linked to the West?"

The woman frowned.

"What do you mean?"

Seran turned halfway toward her now, his usual smile nowhere to be seen.

"I remember giving one to Shadow," he said. "I remember that clearly. But there are two."

His eyes narrowed.

"And earlier... I think one of them rang."

"You think?"

Seran let out a soft breath.

"That is the problem. I am not sure whether I heard it or whether I only feel as though I should have."

He touched the second device with two fingers.

"When I picked it up, there was no one."

The woman shook her head slowly.

"You never told me about a second one."

That made Seran even quieter.

He did not like gaps in his own mind.

Not this kind.

The woman studied him for another moment, then her expression changed.

"The Devourer," she said.

Seran looked up sharply.

"What about it?"

"The thing we talked about before," she said. "I remembered something. Or rather..." She pressed a hand against her temple. "I remembered that I had forgotten something."

Seran’s face hardened.

She continued slowly.

"It really did appear in my vision before. I know it now. I saw it. I am certain of it. But I forgot. I forgot an actual vision."

Seran’s stillness deepened.

"That should not be possible."

"I know," she said. "My visions blur. Symbols refuse to stay clear. But I do not forget the vision itself. Not like that."

Her voice became more uneasy.

"And now I am asking myself if it was only the Devourer. Or if there was something else there that I failed to hold onto."

Seran fell silent.

The second device on the table suddenly felt much heavier than metal had any right to feel.

He understood the pattern now.

Not the full answer.

Just enough of the wrongness to know it was real.

Something in the West had gone beyond normal interference.

Seran’s gaze sharpened.

"I don’t like this," he said. "Prepare to move."

The woman straightened.

"Now?"

"Now."

His tone was flat.

"The West has become strange."

•••

Earlier in the Void—

The ancient beasts were winning.

The Devourer had already been wounded by Moonfall Judgment before they took the battle away from the Big World, and once the ancient beasts were allowed to fight without protecting settlements beneath every missed blow, the rhythm of the clash had slowly changed.

The Devourer was still monstrous.

Still regenerating in ways that made ordinary reason feel insulted for trying to understand it.

But now it was being forced to contend with a formation of beings old enough to treat catastrophe as a familiar kind of weather.

Astraea carved storm-lanes through the void and kept the Devourer’s larger motions from completing cleanly.

Condoriano shifted its position at the exact moments when its mass tried to settle into advantageous angles.

Grave weighted the empty space beneath it until even its falling became slower than it wanted.

Aurvang hammered it head-on whenever the thing tried to gather uninterrupted hunger.

Noctryn cut through its blind intervals.

Ashkara burned rot through wounds that had only just closed.

Saber remained the cruelest of them all. Every strike was placed where the Devourer would least enjoy surviving it.

The others filled the field with old, precise violence.

They had entered the phase of the battle where victory stopped being a hope and started becoming a process.

Then—

Something flickered through their mind.

A sensation.

A reaching.

Astraea’s eyes shifted for a fraction of a second.

Condoriano faltered in one arc, corrected immediately, and laughed to cover the break in rhythm.

Several of the others felt it too.

But just as quickly as it came, it was gone.

They ignored it.

Or rather, they had no reason not to.

The Devourer still needed killing.

Its body tore open under another coordinated barrage. Wounds split through its bulk. Several eyes burst. Chunks of flesh spun into the dark like shredded moons.

Astraea exhaled and said, almost without thinking, "Let’s finish this quickly. Then we can bring little brother some good news."

The others looked at her.

For the briefest moment, no one moved.

Condoriano’s smile dimmed first.

"Little brother..." he repeated.

Astraea blinked.

Her expression tightened.

"Did I..." She frowned. "Did I just say that?"

Grave shifted slowly through the void.

Something in the formation felt wrong again.

Not enough to explain. Just enough to disturb.

Condoriano’s gaze turned distant.

A feeling stirred in him.

He clicked his tongue.

"That is irritating," he muttered.

Astraea’s stormlight flared again as she forced her focus back toward the Devourer.

The others did the same.

None of them understood why a part of them now wanted, with increasing pressure, to return to the Big World as quickly as possible.

So they did what old monsters always did with unease.

They turned it into violence.

And the battle against the Devourer grew even harsher.

•••

Earlier inside the Stillness Palace—

The women around the Eclipse Array had collapsed where they stood.

The activation had drained them badly. Their bodies still held power, but not in any elegant shape. What remained in them was the exhausted aftermath of having fed a war-machine older than many civilizations.

For a while, no one spoke.

They lay or sat against the floor, breathing hard, staring without really seeing.

Then Marie frowned.

"What were we talking about again?"

No one answered her.

Kaia looked up.

Sylra blinked several times in confusion.

Marina sat very still, arms around her knees, as though she had awakened in the middle of a thought and found that the thought had been stolen.

Lilith’s hand pressed flat against her own chest.

Her heart was beating too hard.

For no reason she could name.

Eirene sat in silence, one hand clasped over the necklace at her throat. Her expression had changed.

Unease had found her.

It was the kind of feeling that came when the world had shifted one grain too far and instinct noticed before memory did.

She could feel loss.

The certainty that something precious had been taken out of the room and everyone inside it had been expected to continue breathing as though nothing had happened.

Then presences arrived.

Small. Fast. Urgent.

Slimes.

They bounded into the chamber in panicked, uneven hops. Their movements were far less orderly than usual.

The moment they saw the women, they burst into frantic cries.

"Help."

"Help."

"Help the master."

"Please help the master."

The words hit the room like thrown stones.

Everyone jolted.

Marie sat up too quickly. Kaia’s eyes widened. Sylra went pale. Marina’s lips parted soundlessly.

Lilith stood first.

"What master?" she asked, though her voice already trembled as if part of her had begun guessing the answer and did not want the rest to catch up.

The slimes hopped closer.

"Big danger," one said.

"Master in danger," another repeated, almost stumbling over the urgency.

Even though the world had forgotten Lucien—

The slimes had not.

They had integrated with Nihility. Their little existences had already brushed against a principle Oblivion could not erase cleanly.

One could not make Nihility forget.

The others still looked confused.

But Eirene’s unease sharpened into something much colder.

Without another word, she grasped her necklace tightly and activated Equivalent Exchange.

The palace dimmed around her.

Her breathing hitched.

She asked the universe three questions at once.

What had the slimes meant. Why her heart had felt wrong. What, exactly, had been taken from her mind.

The cost appeared immediately.

Lifespan.

A real measure of her remaining time.

Eirene did not hesitate.

She paid.

At once, knowledge rushed back into her mind.

It returned like a wound reopening.

Lucien.

His face. His voice. His choices. His danger. Their promise. The inevitability. The fact that it had already happened.

And they had not been there.

Tears spilled from Eirene’s eyes before she even realized she was crying.

"Why..." she whispered. "Why did I forget?"

Her hand shook.

For one terrible moment she felt all of it at once. The absence, the restoration, the horror of having gone on breathing while something this important had been cut away from her as if her heart could be edited like bad text.

The others stared at her in alarm.

Eirene looked up.

"You must remember," she said.

Her body changed.

Light swept across her and her Floran form dissolved into her Lunarian truth.

The others froze in shock.

But Eirene did not explain.

She raised a hand and cast Eclipse magic not as a weapon this time, but as revelation.

Moonlight fell over the room.

It entered their minds and peeled away the false emptiness left by Oblivion’s mark by re-illuminating what had been cut loose.

And then—

They remembered.

Lucien.

All at once.

The room changed.

Marie covered her mouth in disbelief. Kaia went rigid, as though she could not decide whether to punch the wall or collapse. Sylra closed her eyes and lowered her head. Marina wept openly before she even understood she was doing it.

Lilith was the worst.

Her body shook.

She bit her lip so hard blood came through.

Because now she remembered everything.

The armor. Her words. The way she had named it. Beloved Bastion.

Who else would she ever have forged that for.

Her knees almost gave way.

Eirene forced herself back into her Floran form.

She grasped the Waystone Fragment linked to Lucien’s. Her expression shifted at once.

Because... it was blank, showing nothing at all.

She turned to the slimes immediately.

"Do you know where Brother Luc is?" she asked.

The slimes lowered their bodies.

"No," one said softly.

Lilith stepped forward at once.

"I may know the approximate location," she said, voice strained. "I left a soul-fragment inside the armor I gave him. Enough to feel his direction."

Eirene smiled.

"That is enough."

Then her expression hardened.

"We activate the Eclipse Array again."

The others stared.

They were drained but no one refused.

Not one of them.

Because now they remembered the right thing.

And the thought of him being alone while they sat here was unbearable.

Marie wiped her eyes and stood.

Kaia inhaled once and nodded.

Sylra steadied Marina with one hand while straightening with the other.

Lilith already moved toward the array channels.

Eirene looked at them all.

For one short breath, the chamber felt full in a way it had not moments before.

Then they began.

And this time, the Eclipse Array woke to tears, fear, love, and memory all at once.

•••

Meanwhile—

Lucien was in a bind.

The kind where two Primordial Incarnations stood on opposite sides of a battlefield and every path between them felt like a different spelling of death.

He could no longer create anything significant.

Not against both of them at once.

Every answer he made was already too small by the time it existed.

He defended.

That was all.

Severance moved first again.

A cut-line crossed toward him, silent and absolute.

Lucien grabbed another drop and activated it at the edge of impact.

Riftmirror Flake — A reflective scale that reduces the impact of one hostile Law effect if timed correctly.

The severing wave struck.

And diminished.

Not enough to become harmless. Enough to become survivable.

Lucien was still hit.

Badly.

His whole body spun under the reduced impact, armor shrieking. His internal organs trembled with the echo of something that had tried very hard to separate them from relevance.

Then Convergence appeared on one side.

Severance on the other.

He was... cornered.

Lucien saw it too late.

Both attacked.

And Lucien died.

The last Life-Link Talisman broke.

Gone.

It restored him in a burst of saving light.

But there was no safety in coming back anymore.