Atop one of the Academy's highest mountain peaks, Lucas and NOX stood facing each other, surrounded by the breathtaking expanse of clouds and untouched wilderness.
The air was cool and crisp, the scenery serene and picturesque—a moment of natural beauty that could make even the most hardened warrior pause in reflection.
Lucas, however, was far too busy suppressing the urge to punch NOX in the face.
His fists clenched at his sides, trembling with restraint.
This bastard had humiliated him in front of the entire student body, and now he had the audacity to stand here like nothing had happened?
Lucas took a slow, steady breath, reminding himself that today was his last day at the Academy —and so would never have to endure the endless pitying pep talks and lectures on identity crises and shame that would surely follow after his actions today.
He cleared his throat, attempting to maintain some semblance of composure. With a forced calmness, he spoke, "I know you have something to say, but... what the hell is this woman doing here?"
Lucas gestured toward Elaine, who was, as usual, lost in her thoughts, probably overthinking some other ridiculous scenario in her head.
At this moment, Elaine looked like a cat caught between two owners, unsure of which direction to go but unwilling to leave the scene.
Elaine finally turned to him, offering a gentle gaze that, in that moment, felt too annoyingly gentle.
"Oh, my bad…" she said, her tone as calm as ever, though it only served to irritate Lucas further. "I didn't think you needed privacy."
Then, as though she hadn't already caused enough trouble, she mouthed slowly—without making a sound—"I. Am. Rooting. For. You."
And just to top it all off, she flashed him a thumbs-up, as if giving him the ultimate vote of confidence.
Lucas' vision blurred. He nearly coughed blood. His brain was short-circuiting.
How did I get here?
He felt a sudden, almost primal urge to slap himself for ever engaging with her in the first place.
She was insufferable.
Elaine remained blissfully unaware of the chaos she had just stirred up, smiling sweetly as though she'd done something incredibly profound.
NOX stood at the edge of the mountain peak, his gaze fixed on the distant horizon where storm clouds churned in the endless sky. The winds whispered through the air, carrying with them an almost foreboding stillness.
Without turning to face them, he spoke. His voice was calm—too calm.
"A storm is coming," he said, addressing both Lucas and Elaine. "One that could sweep through the entire Mythrandis Lower Plane."
Lucas and Elaine instinctively narrowed their eyes, their attention sharpening.
Lucas let out a slow sigh. He knew exactly what NOX meant.
Today, NOX had slaughtered tens of thousands of Dharma Soldiers. Not just common foot soldiers—but generals, captains, even an admiral.
There would be consequences. Severe ones.
The Human Supreme Society might not declare an open war against the Dark Heaven Clan, not immediately. They weren't fools. They would play the long game, feigning diplomacy while working from the shadows.
Perhaps it would be a trade war, bleeding the clan economically.
Perhaps assassinations, sending operatives to eliminate key figures.
But there was a worse possibility.
If the Society chose to pull their Dharma Soldiers out of the Mythrandis Lower Plane, then the entire region would be doomed.
The Dharma Soldiers were the only ones capable of effectively fighting Devils and purging Evil Energy from contaminated planets. Without them, corruption would spread unchecked.
And when that happened, Mythrandis would fall into chaos.
Just like so many other Lower Planes before it.
The Society wouldn't abandon this realm forever—no, that wasn't their way.
They would withdraw their forces temporarily, forcing the mortal civilizations and lesser factions to turn against the Dark Heaven Clan, isolating them. Stripping them of their allies.
Pitting them against the very world they had fought to protect.
It was an old strategy. A brutal one.
And one that had succeeded countless times before.
Lucas' gaze darkened as he looked at NOX.
"Are you responsible for the disappearance of the Dharma Soldiers that came as reinforcements?"
It wasn't truly a question. He already knew the answer.
He just needed to hear it from NOX himself.
NOX nodded without hesitation.
There was no need to hide it.
Because in the end—they were in the same boat.
They always had been.
From the very beginning, whether it was the Human Supreme Society, VRITRA and Garuda, the three mysterious entities NOX had killed before the regression, or even the Heavens themselves—
None of them ever targeted NOX and Lucas separately.
They were always attacked together.
Always.
That fact alone had bound them together in a fate neither of them had chosen.
Lucas exhaled, feeling an unease settle deep in his bones.
Then, in a measured voice, he asked the one question that neither Tirius nor the Dean had failed to ask.
"How far did you go?"
NOX remained silent. He didn't answer right away—not because he was hesitating, but because he was calculating. Piecing it together.
How far had he truly gone?
Then, his blindfolded gaze shifted toward Lucas, and when he finally spoke, his voice was calm.
Too calm.
"I granted them death so complete," he said, "that I snuffed out their very honor. Took from them even the chance to be mourned."
A gust of wind swept across the peak, rustling through their clothes, but NOX's expression remained unreadable.
To him, the Dharma Soldiers had never deserved honor. Nor did they deserve remembrance.
And so, he had made sure no one would remember them.
He hadn't just killed them. He had killed everyone who could have mourned them. Their wives. Their husbands. Their parents.
Even their children.
There was no grief left behind. No sorrow. No lingering memories.
Nothing.
Lucas didn't speak. Because he understood something most wouldn't. He understood what kind of pain NOX have had endured in his past life…
To hate them this much.
To erase them this completely.
Because to NOX, a person is never truly dead until there is no one left to mourn them.
And today—
He had ensured that not a single soul remained.
A heavy silence stretched between them, the weight of NOX's actions lingering in the cold mountain air.
Lucas, arms crossed, gave him a long, unreadable stare.
Then, breaking the silence, he casually asked: "So… you killed their families too?"
NOX didn't answer. He didn't have to. His silence was confirmation enough.
But even as he stood there, blindfolded gaze still fixed on Lucas, a nagging thought crawled its way into his mind.
'Why is this bastard asking so many questions?'
It wasn't the fact that Lucas was asking—NOX had expected that. What bothered him was how calm he was about it.
A normal person, upon hearing that an entire bloodline had been casually erased, would have at least flinched. Maybe gasped. Maybe thrown up a little.
But Lucas?
This bastard looked mildly inconvenienced.
Like NOX had just told him he'd eaten the last slice of cake instead of, you know, committed multigenerational genocide.
At first, NOX chalked it up to sheer audacity. But then… a far more disturbing thought crept into his mind.
What if… Lucas was a regressor too?
His entire body tensed at the possibility.
NO. IMPOSSIBLE.
He quickly dismissed the idea with vehement certainty.
Regression was a privilege granted only to protagonists.
And NOX—The Divine Protagonist, the Greatest Chosen One in Existence, the Beloved of the Universe—was simply beyond normal protagonists. He had not merely regressed—he had experienced time backward.
A smug smirk twitched at his lips.
Yes. That's right. His regression wasn't some lowly, dime-a-dozen time loop. It was superior. Divine. An artistic masterpiece of fate itself.
In comparison, even a normal protagonist's regression was child's play.
And Lucas?
Lucas was… well.
Boring.
Predictable.
A side character at best. The character that stands in beginning then later forgotten.
NOX shook his head, scoffing internally.
What kind of idiot author would waste the narrative on making someone like Lucas a protagonist?
All he had was a tragic backstory, a divine prophecy and also some boring golden aura.
Just a perpetually annoyed teenager with a handsome face and a bit of popularity in the academy.
Still…
His paranoia wouldn't let it go.
NOX found himself slowly turning his head toward Lucas again, his blindfold shifting slightly as he inwardly scrutinized him.
Alright. Let's just make sure.
He ran through the official criteria for protagonist potential—a set of standards that NOX most definitely had not just made up on the spot.
Step One: The Protagonist Face Test.
Lucas had the face of a man who had never experienced joy a single day in his life—perpetually composed, eternally unbothered.
No tragic elegance. No handsome yet sorrowful features. No protagonist-like glow.
Just permanent resting asshole face.
Conclusion: Not protagonist material.
Step Two: The Aura Check.
Did Lucas exude any mystical, untouchable presence?
Was he unknowingly charming in an enigmatic, destiny-bound way?
…No. Unless you counted being obscenely popular with women and delivering heroic speeches so cringe-worthy they could curdle milk.
In NOX' eyes, Lucas had the energy of an exhausted office worker who just found out he had to work overtime on his day off.
Conclusion: Absolutely not protagonist material.
Step Three: The Narrative Rule.
Protagonists, by universal law, had a certain gravity to them.
They didn't just exist in a story—they warped reality around them.
People flocked to them, schemes bent in their favor, and the world adjusted itself to make them shine.
And NOX, being a Divine Protagonist, knew exactly what that looked like.
So, by his expert standards, Lucas should fail this step instantly.
Because Lucas actively repelled people.
This bastard's first instinct upon meeting someone wasn't to befriend them, but to judge them.
Even now, Lucas was looking at NOX with the exact same expression someone might have when debating whether to:
A) Strangle him
B) Ignore him and leave
C) Strangle him first, then leave
Conclusion : There was no goddamn way Lucas was a protagonist.
Protagonists don't repel people. They attract them! They are natural charismatic leaders! They—
Wait.
NOX froze.
Slowly, his mind pieced together something horrifying.
Lucas did attract people.
Celestials? Annoyingly loyal.
Elaine? Unshakably attached.
The Academy? Couldn't stop gossiping about him.
Even NOX HIMSELF had stuck around this long.
No matter how much of an unapproachable, scowling bastard Lucas was—people still followed him.
Which meant—
NOX felt his body go cold.
No.
No, no, no, no, no.
His head snapped back to Lucas, scanning him again—his tragic backstory, his handsome-yet-annoyed face, his natural ability to attract trouble, his stupidly composed attitude toward mass slaughter.
It all made sense now.
The worst possible realization slammed into NOX like divine judgment.
Lucas was a protagonist.
A real, actual, narrative-backed protagonist.
NOX's eye twitched. "You've got to be f*cking kidding me."
How had he not seen it before?
Lucas checked all the damn boxes!
And the worst part?
He was a boring protagonist.
NOX clenched his fists in pure indignation.
Of all the types of protagonists in existence—the tactical geniuses, the overpowered madmen, the roguish anti-heroes, the scheming masterminds—
Lucas had to be the brooding, reluctant one.
The kind that had zero flair.
The kind that looked cool standing in the rain but ruined the mood by monologuing about morality.
NOX felt sick.
He had spent his life believing that only divine existences like himself were worthy of regression.
But somehow—SOMEHOW—Lucas had cheated the system.
He took a deep breath, inhaling all his disbelief, and then exhaled pure denial.
"…This is a scam," he muttered darkly.
Lucas frowned. "What the hell are you talking about?"
NOX turned his back on him, muttering more aggressively.
"This is absolute bullshit. How could someone this boring be the main character? What kind of idiot author would write you as the protagonist?!"
Lucas blinked. "...What?"
NOX ignored him, gripping his forehead like he was going through an existential crisis.
"This isn't real. I refuse to accept it. You don't have the sparkle. The presence. The flair. You're like—like an NPC that accidentally stumbled into the main storyline and now the universe is too lazy to kick you out!"
Lucas narrowed his eyes. "You do realize I can hear you, right?"
NOX dramatically pointed at him.
"Explain yourself! What exactly have you done that makes you worthy of being a protagonist? You don't have a tragic enough past! You don't have an interesting personality! You're just... just... you!"
Lucas crossed his arms. "Maybe I got picked because I'm normal and not some delusional maniac?"
"Impossible." NOX rejected the idea immediately.
Lucas exhaled slowly, rubbing his temples. "You know what? I'm leaving. This conversation is actually giving me a headache."
But NOX wasn't done.
He stared harder, scanning every inch of Lucas' face again, trying to find something—anything—that proved him wrong.
Sharp features? Protagonist.
Permanent scowl? Protagonist.
Tragic yet mysterious aura? F*cking protagonist.
NOX gritted his teeth.
There was no escaping it.
No denying it.
Lucas had protagonist energy written all over him.
Which meant—
He, NOX, the Divine Protagonist, actually had competition.
"…This is the worst day of my life."