Zhuo exhaled slowly, running a hand through his hair as he gazed at the ceiling. The weight of the revelation settled over him like a slow-building storm.
There was a problem. A big one.
The Veil Interface—his creation, had reactivated too soon.
It wasn't supposed to wake unless he himself commanded it.
Which meant something had gone terribly wrong.
His eyes sharpened as he turned back to the black translucent screen floating before him. The once-eager glow of the letters had dimmed, pulsing now with something more measured.
For the first time, the Veil seemed to recognize that its words held weight.
And Zhuo wasn't in the mood for riddles.
His voice was calm, steady.
"Alright. Next question."
A pause.
"Who authorized you?"
The glowing inscriptions trembled slightly before reshaping into new words.
---
[… You did.]
---
Zhuo's brow furrowed.
"…What?"
---
[Well, not YOU you.]
[But the contingency protocol you left behind.]
[It was triggered when you fell.]
---
Zhuo's expression didn't change.
When he fell.
The words echoed, but they rang hollow.
Because he hadn't fallen.
Not in the way the world believed.
He hadn't been cut down in battle. He hadn't suffered some catastrophic defeat. He was never broken.
No.
His slumber had been his own decision. A necessary retreat. A means to an end.
Had the world seen it differently? Probably.
To them, he had simply vanished—a godlike existence erased from history overnight.
And the Veil… had reacted accordingly.
Zhuo's fingers tapped idly against his arm as the pieces fell into place.
A failsafe. A last resort.
His past self had anticipated something like this. Of course he had. He never left things to chance.
So when he disappeared, the system had been set to activate under very specific conditions.
Which meant…
His eyes narrowed.
Something else had happened.
Something beyond his disappearance.
Something grave enough for the Veil to override its original directives.
Zhuo let out a slow breath, leveling his gaze at the floating screen.
He was done playing along.
"Who triggered the protocol?"
The Veil flickered.
---
[…I do not know their name.]
[But they bore the title 'The Eternal Witness.']
---
Zhuo's body stilled for a fraction of a second.
Then, almost instinctively, a low chuckle rumbled from his throat.
"…Tch. So it was him, after all."
The Eternal Witness.
There was only one man in existence who carried that title.
A man who stood above knowledge, above wisdom.
A being who had seen the birth of stars and the death of empires, who had walked through the annals of time itself, never once lost in its flow.
The old man.
He was not the strongest. He was not the fastest. But in terms of wisdom, of foresight, he stood alone at the peak.
There was no being, god or mortal, who could match him in understanding the unseen threads that wove the cosmos together.
He saw beyond the present, beyond cause and effect, tracing the ripples of fate to their inevitable conclusions.
His mind was an ocean—vast, unfathomable, endless.
And if he had deemed it necessary to wake Zhuo…
Then something was coming.
Something inevitable.
Zhuo exhaled sharply, shaking his head.
"That crazy old bastard… Always one step ahead, huh?"
The Veil flickered again, hesitating before forming its next message.
---
[He entrusted me with your return.]
[And he hoped you would understand.]
---
Zhuo's lips curled slightly—not quite a smirk, but close.
He understood perfectly.
If that old man had triggered the protocol, it meant only one thing—
Something bad was coming.
Zhuo exhaled slowly, shaking his head as he leaned against the cold metal wall.
"Well, there's no point in overthinking it."
The world moved forward, with or without his intervention. Whatever fate loomed on the horizon, whatever he had foreseen, it wasn't something Zhuo could confront in his current state.
"And besides..." His gaze darkened slightly. "I'm still bound by this mortal state. Returning to my true form now would be... troublesome. I'd rather not rush it."
The Veil Interface flickered, its glow steady, as if nodding in agreement.
---
[Correct.]
---
Zhuo chuckled at its unwavering affirmation. "Glad you approve."
His expression softened slightly as a new thought formed in his mind.
"Well, since I have time, I might as well enjoy it. Good food, a warm bed, and maybe even a little peace... for once."
His fingers idly tapped against his arm. There was a certain satisfaction in the thought of indulging in the simple pleasures of life, something he hadn't done in... well, an eternity.
But then, a flicker of mischief crossed his otherwise composed face.
A dangerous idea.
One that sent a glint of amusement through his eyes.
He let the silence linger for a moment before casually musing—
"What if I just erased the Veil Interface for the next 24 hours?"
The words were spoken lightly, almost lazily, but the implications...
Oh, the implications.
The world relied on the Veil Interface for everything—awakener status, skill progression, quest tracking, even basic combat coordination.
Without it?
Chaos.
Zhuo could already picture it: panic spreading like wildfire, high-ranking awakeners frozen in mid-battle, guild leaders scrambling, governments paralyzed, the entire foundation of the modern world shaken in an instant.
It was so tempting.
His lips curled into a barely perceptible smirk. "That would be... amusing."
The Veil flickered rapidly, its glow pulsing in a way that almost looked—if such a thing were possible—nervous.
---
[M-Master, surely you jest...? ]
---
Zhuo let the thought hang in the air, letting the Veil Interface suffer for a few seconds longer before he waved it off with a quiet chuckle.
"Relax. I won't do it. Not now, at least."
---
[Oh, thank the heavens. That would have been catastrophic.]
---
Zhuo shrugged. "Of course it would. That's what makes it funny."
The Veil flickered in silent protest.
But Zhuo was already moving on, his thoughts shifting. If he had time, how should he spend it? He had no obligations, no immediate threats—just freedom.
For the first time in a long time.
His mind drifted toward possibilities—where to go, what to do, how to stay under the radar...
And then—
---
[Master! I almost forgot!]
---
The Veil's sudden urgency snapped him out of his musings.
Zhuo arched an eyebrow. "Forgot what?"
---
[There is something I must tell you. A matter of great significance. It concerns the Ey....]
Before the veil interface could finish,
A sudden, deafening alarm ripped through the headquarters.
The sound reverberated through the metallic walls, sending tremors through the structure. A pulsing red light bathed the corridor, flashing in synchrony with the piercing wail.
Zhuo's eyes sharpened instantly.
An emergency alert.
Something was happening.
Something serious.
He straightened, his previous amusement vanishing like mist in the wind.
The Veil flickered again, but this time, its glow was erratic, as if disturbed by whatever had just occurred.