THE VILLAIN'S POV Chapter 850 Fractured Origin (1)

Gehrman's life concluded.

His final moments unfolded within a mausoleum—a solitary grave located on a barren planet, devoid of any life, a place utterly unknown to anyone else.

Not a single cry, no lamentation... no tears were shed, with the sole exception of Shiva's. She collapsed onto the ground, her sobs echoing as Gehrman's vessel finally fractured.

Her grief stemmed from her understanding of the immense suffering that man endured across countless ages, relentlessly pursuing an unattainable objective that would have crushed any other being.

Yet, he achieved it flawlessly. He sacrificed his life, surrendered his all, to meticulously arrange the circumstances for his eventual return.

His demise was unheralded, known to no one... save for one. Nevertheless... it carried a significance so profound it was destined to reshape the very fabric of history.

The Engineer found his much-needed rest, placing his ultimate faith in the king he believed in... a king submerged in shadows, yet whose realm was paradoxically illuminated more brightly than ever.

Gathered around the subdued campfire—the sanctuary Frey Starlight invariably sought when life's pressures became unbearable—the ambiance was dim, the meager flame casting faint shadows upon their faces. Darkness had always been its defining characteristic. But today... felt distinct.

Frey and his numerous iterations convened around the fire, and at that precise instant, all of them simultaneously tilted their heads towards a warm shaft of light that penetrated their existence. It felt alien... even unsettling. Yet, concurrently, it emanated warmth. Familiarity.

Frey basked in this luminescence, closing his eyes and allowing its embrace to wash over him—and all his other selves followed suit.

This sanctifying radiance bestowed tranquility... composure... and a gentle sense of comfort. Through it, Frey finally comprehended the immense burden Gehrman had shouldered for so long.

Gradually, Frey's various manifestations began to dissipate, one by one—vanishing entirely from existence.

From his nascent self, a simple scribe unaware of the world's complexities, to his ultimate iteration that weathered unimaginable horrors... they all faded away.

And with each subsequent disappearance, the campfire's glow diminished. Its flames weakened, its light becoming negligible in comparison to the dominant beam suffusing Frey's form.

Within moments, every iteration had vanished. They had attained peace... and only two figures remained, standing united within the pervasive light.

And with each one that vanished, the campfire dimmed. Its flames weakened, its light becoming insignificant compared to that overwhelming beam that bathed Frey's body.

Within seconds, all the versions were gone. They found rest… and only two remained, standing side by side within the light.

Frey and Nameless simultaneously opened their eyes. They regarded each other, then turned their gaze to the fire that had once offered solace and warmth—only to discover it completely extinguished. Not a flicker remained.

"So… this is the end. This time… it's the absolute finality."

Frey articulated this with a soft smile, fully cognizant that this marked the ultimate conclusion. No further iterations would follow. A new version would emerge—a more potent one. The ultimate one. And subsequent to its existence... nothing further would transpire.

The sanctuary had vanished. The fire had been extinguished. All that remained was for the final manifestation—the most formidable—to forge the path ahead.

Frey and Nameless advanced, permitting the light to elevate them. With unwavering resolve, they confronted truths previously unknown to them.

With the armor, the sword, the mask, and the ultimate power Gehrman had meticulously preserved within him… every component had finally found its rightful place.

Nameless recovered his lost memories—his very existence fully restored. And enfolded within those ancient recollections, the truth had been deliberately concealed, awaiting this precise culmination.

Both of them faced this revelation with taut nerves and racing hearts, apprehensive of what they might discover, yet propelled by an insatiable yearning for knowledge.

The brilliant beam of light transported them far away... towards the genesis of everything. Towards the origin of the man who bore the mask throughout his entire existence.

To Krat.

A world that birthed a singular species—beings of profound coldness, akin to automatons. Their hearts devoid of warmth, their chests lacking any fervor. They revered efficiency and logic, scorning anything divergent... anything they deemed superfluous.

A highly sophisticated civilization, propelled by relentless innovation and scientific advancement across every conceivable domain. A society so remarkably advanced that it dwarfed all others by millennia—as if it had emerged from a distant future.

Nameless originated from among them... and from his very inception, he was the most peculiar of all.

He possessed a distinct nature that set him profoundly apart. Indeed... he was as devoid of emotion as the rest of his kind. Indeed... he shared their physical characteristics. Pale, almost lifeless skin. Hair ranging from muted gray to stark white. Eyes vacant of any discernible life.

And yet… despite these shared attributes, he was fundamentally different.

The populace of Krat venerated labor. They idolized progress, dedicating their lives to construction and invention in their relentless pursuit of perfection. But him... he was frequently observed seated in solitude, engaged in no discernible activity.

Observing in silent contemplation. Wandering without uttering a sound, as though his consciousness resided in a realm far removed from his physical form.

He never bothered to keep pace with them, nor did he join in their activities. Even his own parents couldn't grasp his essence. He resided within his own solitary existence... nothing more.

They were incapable of understanding him… because he was fundamentally different.

Nameless came into this world possessing extraordinary abilities—powers that defied all explanation. These gifts originated neither from his parents nor from any discernible lineage.

He experienced visions. He could perceive the future before it unfolded.

His consciousness spanned across the past, the present… and the future simultaneously.

As he passed by the colossal edifices constructed by his people—those awe-inspiring monuments… he perceived them through a unique lens.

In the present, he saw them as they stood. In the subsequent instant, he witnessed their past… recalling their construction. And then… he glimpsed their future… how they would inevitably transform with the passage of time.

It wasn't long before Nameless unearthed even more latent abilities within himself… powers that incited an existential quandary, compelling that distinct individual to question… his very identity.

"It was peculiar… despite being born amongst them, I bore no resemblance to them save for the physical attributes inherited from a man and a woman who were supposedly my parents."

"Parents for whom I harbored no affection… and who, in turn, felt none for me—especially after they recognized my inherent differences."

Nameless articulated these words, standing beside Frey as they both observed his formative years.

"Your capacity to perceive the future and the past… is that the Void?" Frey inquired with palpable curiosity.

Nameless offered a simultaneous nod and shake of his head.

"Yes… and no. To be exact… the Void is merely a secondary ability I developed from it, after my attempts to control the original power proved futile."

Those visions were profoundly overwhelming. They didn't merely depict the past and the future, but an infinite array of diverging possibilities—countless variations of potential outcomes.

It felt as though he were perpetually trapped in a realm of 'what ifs', observing every conceivable scenario manifest before him. Nameless endeavored to assert control over this phenomenon… but he could not.

Ultimately, all he managed to distill was the Void—a potent visual aptitude, certainly, yet merely a pale imitation of something far more profound, something perpetually beyond his complete command.

"Your foresight… was that what propelled your quest for truth? The truth about your own existence?" Frey asked, his curiosity undeniably sharp. Nameless paused for a moment before responding, his tone imbued with a somber weight.

"It was a contributing factor… but not the primary one."

Frey’s gaze sharpened slightly at this declaration, his curiosity intensifying. "If that wasn't the reason… then what was?"

Nameless inclined his head, contemplating his response with great care. Then, eschewing a direct answer, he opted for a more transparent approach—he would allow Frey to witness the truth firsthand.

Consequently, the scene transmuted.

It depicted a desolate, unremarkable day on the planet Krat… a day indistinguishable from the countless preceding it. Nameless was but a child then, barely ten years of age.

Krat was expansive—immensely so—and his kind were not the sole inhabitants of its surface. Beings of myriad forms traversed its landscapes, some bearing resemblance to fauna, others akin to monstrous entities.

Although Nameless's race had claimed dominion over the majority of the planet, harnessing nearly every possible resource, pockets of untamed forests, formidable mountains, and primitive wildernesses remained… sanctuaries where other beings dwelled, far removed from the clamor of progress and unceasing development.

Nameless was recognized for frequenting these secluded locales. Onlookers often observed him in pursuit of small creatures… beings that bore a resemblance to Earth's squirrels.

Yet, they differed significantly here… exhibiting enhanced speed, far exceeding terrestrial counterparts, distinguished by their ebony fur and a diminutive horn protruding from their brows.

He had been consumed by the obsession of hunting them since his youth. He would pursue them for extended durations, relentlessly, until he finally succeeded in capturing one.

Despite their formidable agility, his precognitive ability enabled him to anticipate their evasive maneuvers. This granted him the unique distinction of being the only one capable of matching their pace… the sole individual able to apprehend them.

And upon his success…

He would deliberately snap their necks.

Extinguishing their lives with his own hands.

Frey’s countenance darkened considerably the moment this act unfolded before him.

'Nameless… pursued these creatures… solely for the purpose of terminating them?'

What manner of child was this?

Such was the thought that occupied his mind at that juncture.

The sequence replayed, again and again, until it became a familiar, disturbing pattern—Nameless, utilizing his foresight to pursue these creatures, capturing them, and dispatching them without a flicker of hesitation.

"Were you attempting some sort of extermination?" Frey commented with notable sarcasm. Nameless emitted a subtle, almost melancholic chuckle as he approached his younger counterpart.

"That is precisely what my people surmised."

An unusual quality permeated his smile—a nuance that caused Frey to momentarily falter. He then recalled… the individual beside him was no longer that unfeeling entity.

He had undergone a transformation.

He had matured.