Shards scattered like starlight, then reassembled, becoming countless stars. With each blink, the constellations shifted.

“Ppiyak!”

What was happening?! I hugged Ppiyak tight and crouched. My body felt as if falling forever, or rising endlessly. What was going on? Had the newcomer failed to take me? Knocked me off course by hitting Ppiyak’s wings? But she’s a Transcendent—hardly.

Maybe it was just a dramatic way back to my world. But if not—this wasn’t even the real world. It was a dungeon formed from fragments of vanished past.

“…Though thinking of Dali and that one, I can’t say it’s all fake.”

Where did the real end and the fake begin?

The stars moved again: a Milky Way unfurled, then a red mist gathered, a giant planet appeared, then turned black. Were we traversing space or did time itself pass? If the latter, eons flickered by in moments.

The twisted sense of time and space grew heavy. I squeezed my eyes shut. I couldn’t tell if I fell or floated—felt as if bobbing in water. Then, a sudden jolt.

“…!”

Someone’s arms caught me. I snapped my eyes open.

“Ppiyak!”

Ppiyak beat one wing in greeting. I saw eyes looking down at me—night’s eyes holding a silver moon, and beyond them, soft pink hair adrift.

“It’s been some time.”

The Crescent Moon smiled. Her gently curved lashes cradled a waxing moon. The same face I’d seen minutes—or hours—ago, showering me with loving moonlight. My heart couldn’t help but flutter.

Even pure white moonlight on a gentle night makes one’s heart stir; but when it carries love for me, how could I stand it? I found myself smiling. It felt like being wrapped in a vast, cozy nest. I wanted to surrender to it and sleep.

But in her white crescent shimmered a dark-blue new moon—thin, cold flame.

“…Ms. Crescent Moon.”

Noticing my gesture to be set down, she withdrew her arms. The sky had cleared to blue, and young grass tickled my ankles.

“Do you remember me?”

“Always. I recall the boy who threw stones at me. He became a Hunter, hunted the fiercest beast, and left for the city. He married, raised three children, returned home, and fell asleep.”

The green-haired boy. Yet I had first met her in a virtual dungeon born of revived past memories. Past fragments shouldn’t connect to the future… Was this moment, too, a memory brought back?

Like when we first met, she coiled a lock of pink hair around her finger.

“Your color recommendation. Everyone said it suited me.”

“Everyone?”

“Transcendents.”

Her moonlit eyes laughed softly.

“I was once the eldest, yet here I am still young.”

I took a shallow breath. This was just after she had ascended to Transcendent. The young, beloved Transcendent she remembered—she toyed with Ppiyak, who chirped. Peace should have been here, but Ppiyak, though soft, was too small.

“And your world? What became of it?”

“It reached its end. Even if unconsumed by the Origin, all things must conclude. This is a sanctuary patched from fragments of my former world. Even lifeless shards can yield a small refuge.”

I looked around. Her sanctuary was not large—just a vast plane whose edges faded into mist, like a grand park. A two-story treehouse stood to one side. The space felt snug—far too small to spend hundreds or thousands of years. An ordinary person would suffocate within a year.

“Must you remain here always?”

“This place is my only realm as a Transcendent. Yet I can visit other sites, or even craft illusory spaces.”

Like dungeons? She knitted her brows.

“False spaces carry incongruity. The young and weak cannot tell, but Transcendents feel dissonance and can never rest there. They crave a pocket of their own world’s fragments.”

I gazed again across the plain. Among Transcendents, world-shards are precious. Seeing her tiny haven, I understood why—it would be impossible to live millennia here. She surely wished to expand it.

‘Though she couldn’t gift me that land of mine.’

Why not merge shards with other land-bearing Transcendents? But even S-tiers shun each other; Transcendents would require deep bonds to co-habitate.

“Han Yujin.”

She addressed me kindly, and my heart thumped. In the distant future we’d be enemies—please don’t treat me so warmly.

“Why are you here?”

“It’s hard to explain… And my surname is Han, given name Yujin. Your world seems not to use surnames.”

“Yes, Yujin.”

Don’t smile like that. It grows on me.

“In my world, some clans had surnames. Longer than yours. But what should we do?”

She looked at me.

“In your body, you could neither come nor stay here—yet you did. I’m still unfamiliar with the outside world.”

“Oh… I think I could return if left alone.”

She looked troubled—odd, since the one I knew handled anything with ease. She’d promised to grant my wishes.

“Is that so. Without aid from other Transcendents—”

“No! I don’t think I could return!”

I blurted. Please reunite me! By now the system-admins surely awakened. It might even predate the system itself.

“Actually, I’m a devoted fan of Transcendents!”

“Hm?”

“I’ve admired you since… many millions of years ago!”

Well, technically the future, but to me it’s ancient. I’d rather tug her hair than admire—details aside. She raised a hand, patted my head gently. Though childlike, I didn’t mind.

“Be cautious. Yujin, you’ve changed little since I last saw you—as if time paused. And as an ordinary human here, many will be curious.”

True—like the Harmless King. Perhaps Ruga and Peya are her peers? I’d parted amicably but hadn’t wanted to meet again. They’d surely lash out.

“Fortunately you bear my essence—consider yourself kin.”

She extended her hand. Placing mine in hers, the surroundings warped. From darkness came her voice.

“It is a peaceful time. Transcendents long at war to forge the system have declared truce. Even the fiercest swords sheathed their weapons.”

The fiercest sword… someone came to mind, though no one yet ancient. Rather young, perhaps.

“What is the system?”

“I know little. It’s the nascent law to shield worlds from the Origin. As a young Transcendent I learn its ways, but cannot create it.”

“You wish to become a system-maker?”

“For fair opportunity to all.”

Her lips curved softly.

“To be a part of that—embracing all the lovely ones.”

…But why then swallow worlds to birth Transcendents, or bind a human and drag him along? I wanted to ask, yet this Crescent Moon differed from the other. She couldn’t comprehend her deeds, so she couldn’t answer.

“Nooo!!!”

A scream sounded. The dim surroundings brightened sharply.

“The mana circuit here—infuse it in reverse! There must be backlash here to amplify it, then repeat to generate the energy!”

Someone was explaining something.

“It’s simple! It’s basic! Even non-Transcendent mages manage it!”

A fluffy blue sphere hopped about—no features save for a pair of veiled antennae fluttering behind. Before it sat a familiar young Chaos, frowning.

“You noisy fluff.”

The young Chaos took adult form, narrowing his red eyes.

“You’ll manage without knowing.”

“How long will you freeload here? Stop breaking doors and barging in!”

“I have many realms.”

“You stole them and lost them all managing poorly!”

“So be quiet if I only stay briefly.”

True enough. The fluff shrieked.

“What kind of Transcendent is this! We can’t steal until the system’s complete!”

“We’ll see,” Chaos smirked fiercely.

“For now we’re calm…but how long? Many will rebel against the system soon.”

The fluff’s antenna quivered mid-air. Chaos’s scarlet gaze sharpened.

“Better forge a sword than stand here.”

“…We shall sleep.”

“Then stand before them.”

He said lightly. The young Chaos had slain countless Transcendents. They had fought until constraints covered their bodies. When system-makers strove to complete the system, opponents surely rose.

To defend, and then—

‘Did I depart as the system tainted?’

Alone in the first Origin world.

“What is this?”

“Ugh!”

Chaos suddenly scooped me up and examined me.

“I’m dizzy!”

“He stared oddly at me. Quite young. The body’s old, but intact. Rotten inside.”

“I’m human—similar to you. Not even a century old.”

The fluff circled me, antennae twitching.

“Where did you find this tiny cutie, young Crescent? I sense your essence.”

You are smaller than me, elder. Quite. Please cease.

“And you have a baby bird. If I resemble you, you’re nearly grown, though tiny.”

“I am fully grown—average here! Put me down!”

“Ppiyak!”

Ppiyak perched on young Chaos’s head. Bless me, Ppiyak!

“I’d return you to a bird-folk world, but I cannot yet.”

“You’re a stellar student—five million times so!”

Chaos flicked the fluff’s antenna against my leg. Then planted a massive hand atop my head. Elder, you’ve grown dignified with age. Yet your touch remains rough.

“With nothing to do, should I raise you?”

“There’s plenty to learn! Before we sleep, I must grasp system-operations!”

“Better to teach you with a rock~”

Another voice interjected—it was the Lighthouse Keeper.

“Hello, Crescent~ If you’re of similar kin, keeping it is fine. It’s so delicate, it cannot safely return alone.”

Musing, the Keeper studied me.

“You’re like a seed, yet oddly present. A seed could grow a thousand-year tree—like that hardy weed.”

A weed? The fluff «N.o.v.e.l.i.g.h.t» laughed. Young Chaos booted it away. The Crescent Moon watched them with warm eyes. To her, Transcendents were objects of affection, too.

“You make that ticklish look again.”

The Keeper clicked his tongue at her—though he showed no displeasure. The sight felt strange. So far, they were… not so different from us.

‘…The Lighthouse Keeper lies dormant in the system.’

The sloth, and the young Chaos who left alone, remained unchanged. Only the Crescent Moon—and the system-keepers left behind—evolved.

“You wear such a peculiar expression, child.”

Chaos spoke to me. Ppiyak fluttered above his head. I didn’t know when reinforcements would come. I must postpone my feelings and learn as much as possible before then.

“I have questions.”

Source: Webnovel.com, updated by NovelKeep