It began with Silence.
A deep, bitter silence that wrapped the world like a blanket just before the breaking of dawn.
One by one, across different corners of the city, lights flickered on softly.
Miwa sat curled on her bedroom floor, her phone lying beside her with dozens of unread messages from her siblings.
Her little brother had drawn her a silly picture, and her sister had snuck a note under her pillow that read "You are the best, unnie."
She pressed it to her chest.
Tears fell quietly, staining the floorboards.
"I'm sorry… I'm sorry… I love you so much," she whispered into the stillness. Her sobs were gentle, but endless. Jennie had offered to sleep over that night—and she had.
Across the room, Jennie lay curled beneath a blanket, face turned away, but the shaking of her shoulders betrayed her. Her eyes were red, and her voice came out in a broken murmur.
"I never even told her... how much she saved me."
Her teacher. The woman who taught her to paint, to believe in herself. Who gave her warmth after a cold childhood.
Miwa reached over and held her hand.
They didn't speak anymore. They didn't have to.
Neither of them slept.
---
In another quiet home, Ai Hoshino stood in the kitchen, watching her father's sleeping form on the couch.
The TV was still on, playing the rerun of a cooking show they'd watched earlier.
She'd made him his favorite meal that evening.
He'd laughed. Genuinely laughed. Said, "We should do this more often."
Now, she stood over him, tears slipping silently down her cheeks.
She knelt and placed a folded note beside him. Then she brushed the hair from his forehead, smiling gently.
"Thank you for raising me alone," she whispered, voice trembling. "I won't forget you… even if you forget me."
---
Minos packed his bag with trembling fingers, pausing to glance at the photo on his desk.
His sister. His parents. Their smiles.
They'd just come back from a trip to the mountains. His mom made too much food, his dad took too many photos, and his sister… she wouldn't stop teasing him.
It had been perfect.
And now he was going to leave it all behind.
"Stay strong," he whispered to the photo frame. "Forget me. Please be happy."
He didn't cry. But his heart felt like it was tearing in two.
---
Jahanox helped his mom stack dishes in the kitchen sink one last time. His father had fallen asleep watching an old movie, his snores echoing faintly.
"You've been home so much lately," his mom said, glancing at him curiously. "Feels like a dream."
Jahanox gave her a crooked, bittersweet smirk.
"I guess dreams end sometime."
She blinked at that. "What—?"
He pulled her into a hug. A tight, lingering one.
"Thank you, Mom. For everything."
He didn't let her see his eyes. Not tonight.
---
The ancient throne room stood tall and dark, hidden beneath layers of dimensional threads. A world only the Catalysts could reach.
In its center, seated atop the obsidian throne with legs crossed and eyes half-lidded, was Zazm.
He'd been waiting.
And now, one by one, they arrived.
Jahanox. Miwa. Jennie. Ai. Minos.
No one said a word at first.
They sat in a wide circle across from Zazm. The atmosphere was heavy—wordless grief filling every corner of the vast room.
Zazm opened his eyes.
He looked at each of them with quiet finality.
Then he spoke.
"Who's going?"
The question hung in the air like a blade.
He raised one hand to stop them from answering immediately.
"Let me say this first."
His voice grew colder. Firmer. Like the Zazm from the battlefield.
"If anyone here chooses to stay, Nova will erase your memory of the Catalysts. Of me. Of this room. You'll return to your normal life, and you won't remember a thing. And your power"
he flexed his fingers, letting threads of energy spiral around them, "I'll dismantle it myself. I'll deal it so you won't ever be able to use it again."
He looked at them now with unblinking, clinical resolve.
"In simple words you'll just get back to your normal lifes with your families in their warmth."
His words echoed.
Then… silence.
Until a voice broke it.
"It won't be necessary," Jahanox said calmly. "We've all made our choice."
Zazm blinked.
Jahanox nodded toward the others. "Let them speak."
Jennie was the first to rise.
Her eyes were still puffy, her voice soft. But there was no hesitation.
"I wanted to stay. So badly. I wanted more time with my teacher. More dinners. More laughter."
She clenched her fists.
"But I realized… all of that was possible because of what we do. If someone doesn't keep this world safe, others won't get those moments. I want to protect that."
She clenched her fists, and then one word sentence left her mouth.
"I am coming."
Myeong-hwa stood up next.
Tears still trailed down her cheeks, but her grin was the same chaotic one they all knew.
"My brother's a brat. My sister always steals my food. And I love them so much it hurts."
She swallowed.
"When I met you, I just joined this all because it was fun but now I truly want to protect everything."
"But if I run now, I'll regret it forever. I have power. I have friends. And I want to keep both."
She controlled her tears.
"Screw this fate, I'm in."
Min-Seok walked forward slowly, his voice quiet but steady.
"My sister called me a loser yesterday for missing her birthday last year."
He smiled faintly.
"But I watched her dance with our parents on that trip. And I thought… if I can protect that joy, even if it costs me everything—then it's worth it."
"Let's see what happens."
Ai stood last.
She didn't say much.
"I told myself I'd never run from the truth again. Not after finding all of you. Not after finding me."
She smiled a little, "I thought it for a long while but I found no reason to join you all unless, I started to get hold of my powers and then suddenly everything started feeling so wrong, it feels like if I don't do anything I'll regret it."
She stepped beside the others.
"Therefore, My place is with the catalysts."
"I see so everyone here has made their minds."
Everyone in the throne room nodded.
Zazm leaned forwards a little, "But let me still ask this for reassurance."
The throne room had quieted again.
Their promises made. Their choices solid.
Zazm took a step forward and got up, his boots echoing faintly on the polished stone floor. His face was unreadable emotion buried beneath years of silent endurance.
Then, his voice rang out—calm, but heavier than before.
"Have you all… said your farewells?"
A chorus of quiet nods followed.
Jennie dabbed her eyes and nodded. Miwa clutched a photo in her sleeve but gave a firm thumbs-up.
Ai looked away, biting her lip, and Minos folded his arms, jaw tight but determined. Kiyomasa gave a double nod, his usual carefree grin nowhere in sight.
But then—Kiyomasa broke the silence.
"Wait… Zazm."
Everyone turned to him.
Zazm's gaze flicked his way, a thread of tension forming in the room.
Kiyomasa's voice was unusually serious. "You didn't visit your parents."
The air stiffened. Jahanox looked at Zazm. Jennie blinked, then leaned forward. Even Miwa tilted her head.
Zazm gave a small scoff and shook his head.
"It's not worth it."
Jennie frowned. "You should at least try, Zazm."
He didn't answer right away. Instead, he slowly pulled out his phone and held it up for them to see.
"I messaged them last month. Just one text."
His thumb hovered above the screen as he read aloud.
[How are you?]
He lowered the phone.
"Their reply was [Fine]. That's all I got."
He tucked the phone back in his coat pocket, eyes distant.
"I mattered to them as much as that single word."
No one spoke.
Jennie looked like she wanted to say something—but didn't. Miwa frowned, sympathy flickering in her gaze. Even Kiyomasa looked guilty.
Zazm turned his head toward Jahanox.
"So. What now?"
Jahanox nodded, switching gears with his usual composure.
"Have you all shifted your belongings to the Shadow Castle?"
Everyone murmured confirmation.
Jennie raised her hand with a faint smile.
"The rooms here are massive. I never thought I'd have space like this."
Miwa chimed in. "I designed my room exactly like my home. Same wallpaper, same desk, same smell... it makes me feel like I'm not too far away."
Minos grinned. "I'll admit—it's kinda fun. Quiet. Peaceful. It's starting to feel like home."
Kiyomasa leaned back, arms crossed behind his head. "I've been living here for a while. Nothing beats flying around the castle when no one's watching. You all'll get used to it."
Jahanox nodded, his expression gradually hardening.
Then, he stepped forward, lifting his hand.
"Good. Because now… I'm going to erase our existence from this world."
A silence fell. Cold and absolute.
He continued, voice deeper now, echoing with finality.
"Not just presence. But existence. Every person you've ever met—your friends, your families, your neighbors—they will forget you. Every photo, every social media post, every trace of you will disappear."
His eyes scanned each of them.
"You'll never be mentioned again. Not even as a missing person. It'll be as if you never existed."
Kiyomasa gulped. Jennie looked down at her hands, fingers trembling slightly.
Still, they nodded.
Minos gave a firm nod. Miwa closed her eyes, taking a breath. Ai didn't speak, but her shoulders squared with resolve.
After a moment, Jahanox opened his arms wide, energy building at his fingertips.
A soft, glowing orb of light formed between his palms, slowly drawing something invisible from the air.
Everyone watched as thin, glowing threads floated from Zazm's chest—memories, data, history—and absorbed into the orb.
Then, with a sharp pulse, the orb exploded outward—soundless and bright—and vanished.
The energy dispersed.
Jahanox looked at Zazm.
"You're done. If anyone wants to test it… now's your chance."
Jennie immediately perked up.
"I wanna check!" she said, already darting toward the dimensional gateway.
The others followed, curiosity pulling them forward.
---
They emerged into the regular world—the quiet suburb where Zazm used to live.
The streets were empty. Stars dotted the sky above.
Jennie walked up to the house next to Zazm's old home and knocked.
A woman answered with a tired yawn.
"Yes?"
Jennie smiled politely. "Hi, sorry to bother you, but do you know where Zazm is? The person who used to live next door?"
The woman blinked.
"Zazm?"
She turned to look at the house next door, then back.
"That house's been empty for years. No one's ever lived there."
Jennie froze.
Miwa's mouth opened, but no words came.
Minos pulled out his phone. "Check his socials."
Jennie tapped. Nothing. No results. No mutuals.
It was like Zazm never existed.
No email. No number. No username.
They all stood there in stunned silence, staring at the blankness left behind.
Finally, they returned to the Shadow Castle.
---
Back in the throne room, no words were needed.
Each one of them stepped forward, one by one, to stand before Jahanox.
And he did it.
Again and again.
Ai. Miwa. Minos. Jennie. Kiyomasa.
Their pasts faded into the void, erased with precision and power.
The real world went quiet—unaware of the souls that had slipped through its cracks.
Zazm sat once again upon his throne, the cold metal of it reflecting dim light from the castle walls. Everyone had returned from the real world, their existences wiped like dust swept under a cosmic rug. He looked at each of them—silent, heavy-eyed, processing the weight of what they had just given up.
"It's almost night," he said quietly, his voice slicing through the silence like steel. "Let's all rest. Tomorrow, we begin again."
Jahanox gave a subtle nod, understanding the signal.
"I'll do all the stuff tomorrow. But…" he tilted his head, "…the real question is, where?"
"Here?" he glanced around the massive throne room. "Or Shadow Realm in general?"
Kiyomasa stretched his arms, still a little tense from everything.
"What's the big deal? Just do it here, no need to complicate it."
Zazm interrupted, voice flat and definitive.
"We'll do it at that spot."
Jahanox's brows drew together.
"…Which spot?"
Zazm looked at him with a faint glint in his eyes.
"The abandoned building. Over the mountains. Where it all began."
Jahanox's mouth parted slightly in realization.
"Ah…" he murmured. "That place."
He looked down briefly, memories passing behind his eyes.
Kiyomasa snapped his fingers. "Wait—I remember that too! Before shadow realm that was where we trained?"
Jennie, Miwa, Minos, and Ai exchanged confused glances.
"What place?" Jennie asked.
"Yeah," Miwa added. "What's so important about it?"
Jahanox turned to them, his voice more nostalgic now.
"You won't get it. Just an old ruined place." He smiled faintly. "But it holds… quite the memories." Then with a softer tone, "Don't worry. Just rest for now. We'll deal with it tomorrow."
---
The night passed—or at least, time did.
In the Shadow Realm, day and night were a matter of perception. The sky above the castle was a swirling canvas of twilight hues, like stardust frozen in a silent dream.
The castle roof stretched high—nearly the height of a 40-story skyscraper. Wind brushed against the stone pillars, cool and clean.
Zazm sat atop one of them, legs folded, back leaning casually against the spire behind him. One arm draped over his head, the other resting loosely at his side. His eyes were half-closed as he breathed in the wind.
He looked still. Weightless. But not at peace.
Footsteps behind him didn't startle him. He recognized the presence before a word was said.
"Why aren't you sleeping?" Zazm asked, voice like a breeze over frost.
"Could ask you the same thing," Jahanox replied, stepping forward, hands tucked into his coat. "But I'm just… a little nervous. And honestly… kinda sad."
Zazm didn't open his eyes.
"That's only natural." His tone was unreadable.
"Today, everyone lost everything."
Jahanox shook his head slowly, eyes on the horizon.
"Not everything."
He looked at Zazm with a calm smile. "We still have each other. Besides… aren't you the one who always says Catalysts are a family?"
A faint nod from Zazm.
"We are."
He closed his eyes again, letting the breeze sweep over his face. A faint tension slipped from his shoulders.
Jahanox tilted his head.
"You planning to sit here all night?"
Zazm answered without hesitation.
"The sky here is different. The wind's pleasant. Would be a waste not to."
Jahanox walked closer, stopping just beside him. He didn't sit, only looked up at the soft, swaying clouds above.
"I've been with you for years." His voice was light but edged with curiosity. "I've seen a lot. Learned a lot. But one thing I still don't get…"
Zazm cracked an eye open slightly.
"Why do you like high places so much?"
A pause.
Jahanox continued, voice thoughtful now.
"I mean, when you skipped classes in high school, you were always on the roof. Middle school? Lunch break? On the roof again."
He glanced at him.
"It'd make sense if you came up here when you were sad or needed space. But you're always doing it. Happy, sad, angry, thinking, not thinking…"
He tilted his head.
"Why high places, Zazm?"
Zazm didn't respond right away.
He smiled faintly—but not at Jahanox. His eyes remained on the sky, cold and tired.
"…Maybe I'll answer that some other day."
Jahanox raised an eyebrow.
"Now you're hiding things from me?"
Zazm finally glanced at him.
"You wouldn't get it. Not now."
Jahanox shrugged, uncaring.
"Suit yourself."
He turned and stepped away.
"I'm going to sleep. Don't fall off or anything."
Zazm raised a hand lazily, waving him off.
Jahanox disappeared into the darkness below.
But his voice echoed faintly one last time in Zazm's mind:
"Why do you love high places so much?"
Zazm stayed still, wind brushing against him.
Alone again.
The question repeated itself soft, persistent.
And Zazm… said nothing.
---
The Catalysts stood atop the forgotten mountain, silent against the whisper of the wind that cut through the dense tangle of trees and wild bushes. The abandoned building behind them loomed like a relic from another age—its cracked stone face and ivy-covered walls telling stories of a time when laughter and footsteps once echoed here. Jahanox stood at the front, facing the horizon, his expression unreadable as he cast his gaze over the jagged cliffs and mist-covered valleys.
"This place," he began, his voice steady, deep, echoing slightly in the cold air, "used to be a tourist attraction. Forty years ago. Shut down because the path here became too dangerous, too broken." He paused, scanning the overgrowth, the weathered trails and crumbled signposts. "Now, it's perfect. No one comes here. No one watches. It's ours."
The Catalysts formed a wide circle around him, giving him space. Jennie held her hands together nervously, Kiyomasa tried to keep a light smile despite the tension, and Zazm remained quiet, arms crossed, watching intently.
Jahanox closed his eyes.
Silence fell like a shroud.
He reached within himself, past the threshold of mere ability, diving into the raw essence of his power—Concept Manipulation. One of the highest and rarest forms of power. And today, he would use it.
Once.
Only once.
And when it was done, it would be locked—buried in the folds of reality for decades, maybe centuries.
Threads began to rise.
His body glowed faintly at first, then brighter—like a constellation was being born within him. Threads of light, thin as hair and shifting in hues from gold to deep violet, flowed out of his chest and shoulders, spiraling like serpents in the air. For the first time, not just Zazm—but everyone—could see them.
They floated in the air, weaving patterns through existence, through time.
Then Jahanox spoke, his voice like a command whispered across galaxies:
"Anyone able to see the threads of time and space—and control them—can also create spaces between universes, or spaces on the void itself."
The world convulsed.
The sky cracked with silent lightning. The ground trembled under their feet. A surge of energy exploded from Jahanox, flinging dust and leaves in a swirling dance. Even the sun flickered.
He staggered slightly, pain flashing across his face. His jaw clenched so tightly his teeth cracked. Blood dripped from his nose.
But he didn't stop.
He couldn't.
Jahanox breathed heavily. His body trembled, but he forced himself upright. He looked up at the swirling threads above him—now tangled into a single, vibrant vortex—and then, with effort, uttered the second concept.
"Any reality-bending power used after this shall be applied to not just this universe—but all universes. Those being born. Those collapsing. Every single one."
A scream tore silently through the fabric of the multiverse.
Bubbles of reality—entire universes—shimmered into view around them. Above the clouds, within the very sky, they saw them: massive orbs of light and shadow, shaking violently. As if they, too, were responding.
Jahanox collapsed to his knees.
He coughed, and blood poured from his mouth. His hands gripped his skull. Crimson flowed from his ears like rivers. His whole body spasmed, twitching like something had broken inside.
The Catalysts rushed forward—
"Stay back!" Jahanox shouted, voice shaking but resolute. He didn't even look at them.
"Don't interrupt. Trust me. Just—trust me!"
Zazm halted mid-step, fists clenched. Jennie covered her mouth, eyes wide in panic. Minos and Miwa held each other back.
Jahanox forced himself to his feet again.
His entire body shook.
It was time.
The final phase.
Reality-Bending.
Everything around them—space, time, matter, essence—began to distort. Faces blurred. Trees twisted into abstract geometries. The sky folded into itself like origami made of galaxies. The ground beneath them lost its color, shape, and meaning. Even sound began to vanish.
The effect spread beyond their universe.
Through all universes.
The entire multiverse trembled.
Jahanox stood at the eye of the storm, his body unraveling. The threads around him convulsed, snarled, burned. Yet he held them together, mind fixed on the concept, will burning like a star.
He spoke the final silent words in his mind.
And then—
His body burst.
Blood sprayed into the air like a shattered fountain. His back split open, ribs fracturing outward. His left eye—
exploded.
He screamed—one final, primal cry of pain and defiance.
Then silence.
Utter, consuming silence.
The threads faded.
The distortion ended.
The world slowly, painfully, righted itself.
And the Catalysts stood frozen, faces twisted in horror.
Jahanox's body fell forward.
A lifeless heap.
His eye was gone.
His body, torn and bloodied, stained the stone beneath him.
No one moved.
No one spoke.
And as the blood pooled beneath the boy who had rewritten the multiverse, the wind whispered once more through the trees.
Everyone was too shocked in horror to move.
Jahanox's body—his chest torn open, blood streaming from his mouth, eyes half-lidded and lifeless—lay in a pool of crimson. His left eye was completely obliterated, an empty socket fused with scorched flesh and bone fragments. No one spoke. No one breathed. The stillness was deafening.
Except Zazm.
"Dammit! I knew this would fucking happen!" he roared, and before anyone could react, he dashed forward.
His eyes glowed, and with a flick of his wrist, time around Jahanox froze—a perfect stillness, a stolen moment.
Zazm cursed under his breath, pushing his power further, wrapping Jahanox's body in a slow rewind of time.
Flesh began to stitch back, torn muscle retracting and reattaching, bones re-forming with agonizing slowness.
But it wasn't fast enough.
"Minos!" Zazm barked, sweat beading his forehead. "Use your quantum manipulation! Increase the size of my threads, amplify their potency NOW!"
Minos, trembling, eyes wide in panic, stammered, "H-How? I don't—I don't know how!"
"Just FOCUS!" Zazm screamed, activating Nexus's Gaze. His pupils burst into shimmering galaxies, and he stared directly into Minos's soul. "NOW!"
With shaking hands, Minos reached out and touched Zazm's shoulder, unsure, terrified. But it started.
Quantum particles surged through Zazm's threads, thickening them, bolstering their density.
A crackle of energy surged over Jahanox's body. His chest sealed, his ribs reformed. Color returned to his cheeks.
Except for his eye.
The socket remained dark and void, refusing to heal. No time reversal, no thread could touch it.
Zazm dropped to his knees, body drenched in sweat, steam rising from his back. "It's no use…" he gasped. "That eye… the pressure… my threads aren't enough and they are extremely weak."
Jennie collapsed beside him, tears streaking her cheeks. "Then… there's no way to save him?"
Zazm clenched his teeth, pressing a bloodied hand to his forehead, trying to think. Focus, damn it… stay calm…
Then, it hit him. His eyes darted to the bracelet on Jahanox's limp wrist. A conduit to the Shadow Realm. A unique stone forged by Jahanox himself.
A stone that had several of his threads already stored inside it, if he can combine his left over threads with all the one's he stored then...
Maybe… just maybe.
He turned sharply. "Jennie! Listen to me!"
But she was unresponsive, sobbing uncontrollably.
Miwa, fists trembling, stepped forward—and slapped Jennie hard across the face. "Get it together!" she yelled, tears still streaming from her eyes.
Jennie blinked, stunned. Zazm leaned forward, locking eyes with her. "Use your phasing powers. Take off his bracelet. BUT—don't touch even a single atom of his body. Not one!"
"I-I… I can't," Jennie whimpered. "What if I mess up? What if—"
"Do you want him to die?!" Zazm shouted, voice raw with emotion. "WILL YOU LET HIM DIE HERE?!"
Jennie's breath hitched. She swallowed hard and nodded. Phasing into the time-frozen space, she carefully, painstakingly, passed her hand through Jahanox's arm without touching it.
She clasped the bracelet, gently pulling it free. It shimmered, and in a breath, returned to its raw stone form—dark obsidian streaked with eerie violet.
She handed it to Zazm, who took it with trembling hands. "Will this work?" she asked, barely audible.
"I don't know," Zazm admitted.
The stone began to glow, trembling in the air. Floating. Zazm reached out with one hand, pouring every remaining thread into it, every last drop of his essence. The other rested gently on Jahanox's chest.
The stone absorbed the threads hungrily, glowing brighter until it looked like a miniature star.
Zazm carefully, reverently, placed it over the ruined socket.
It hovered there for a moment—then slowly, impossibly, began to merge with the flesh. Glowing veins crept outward. Tissue pulsed and regenerated, fusing with light and stone. The threads took root. The stone became one with Jahanox.
The eye reformed, not as it was, but as something… more.
Zazm's face softened into a smile.
And then he collapsed.
His body hit the ground hard. Pale, skin cracked with blue and violet energy lines, lips white, his breathing barely there. His arms were raw from overuse of threads, muscles torn under the skin, his nails shattered, eyes rolled back. He was barely alive.
"ZAZM!" Ai screamed.
______________________________