A dead star.
True to its name.
As far as the eye could see, there was nothing but gray, withered rock.
The dry, cracked earth stretched to the horizon.
No atmosphere.
No water.
No trace of life.
Broken planetary rings hung in the black sky like a massive, tarnished necklace, reflecting the cold, faint light of a distant star.
Absolute silence was the only melody here, a dead stillness in which even time seemed to have frozen.
Mercy chose a spot on the edge of a towering cliff, sitting with her legs dangling over the void, overlooking the massive scar of a canyon below.
She had suppressed most of her energy’s radiance, making her energy-constructed form, resembling the young woman from her final battle, seem like a dying ember against the gray backdrop.
She simply sat quietly, as if admiring this ultimate scene of “destruction,” or as if waiting for a guest she had long since arranged to meet.
There was no wind, yet the pair of pure white wing-like halos behind her head trembled slightly.
“You’re here?” Mercy didn’t turn around.
Her voice, calm, transmitted through the vacuum as energy vibrations.
In the space not far behind her, that unsettling pure white began to spread silently, like ink dropped into clear water (though the colors were inverted).
The light coalesced, revealing the Lord Ravager draped in ancient robes, with silver hair, golden eyes, and an aura of fracture and incomplete beauty—Zephyro.
“Heh heh heh…” A low, magnetic laugh, utterly devoid of warmth, sounded like the final sigh of countless worlds meeting their end.
“Long time no see, newborn compatriot.
Or should I say…
‘the fleeing starlight’?” Mercy slowly turned around.
Her blue eyes met those burning golden flames, which held only pure scrutiny.
“Why are you so fixated on me, Zephyro?
We seem…
to walk different paths.” Zephyro’s pure white eyes shifted slightly, as if appreciating Mercy’s current posture and the “composition” of her surroundings.
“Fixated?
No.
This is ‘observation.’ ‘Confirmation.’ You, Mercy, are a ‘fallacy’ upon the Path of Destruction.
A discordant note.
That Lord Nanook’s gaze would fall upon such a…
contradictory creation is itself worthy of investigation.” “A fallacy?” Mercy raised an eyebrow, her tone carrying a faint, barely perceptible mockery.
“Because I don’t destroy in your…
‘pure’ way?” “Precisely.” Zephyro’s voice was flat yet certain.
“Destruction is the end of all things.
The inevitability of entropy.
The ultimate silence and perfection of returning to ‘nothing.’ It should be the end, not the means.
It is, in itself, the highest ‘beauty.'” He raised his severed, floating arm, gesturing to the dead world around them.
“Look.
This absolute, lifeless ‘nothing.’ This pure state is stripped of all color, sound, and life.
Is it not beautiful?
This is destruction’s ultimate artwork.” He looked at Mercy, his gaze seeming to pierce through her energy body to her very core.
“And you.
Your ‘destruction’ is tainted with impurities.
You destroy for the sake of ‘protection.’ You destroy for ‘survival.’ You even destroy for ’emotion.’ Your actions defile the purity of destruction.
Your existence is like a jarring note in a perfect symphony.
A blasphemy against the aesthetics of destruction.
This is a fallacy.” Mercy listened quietly, no offense on her face.
Instead, a flicker of understanding appeared.
She stood up and brushed off non-existent dust.
“So this is your ‘destruction’?
Destruction for destruction’s sake, to appreciate that so-called ‘beauty of annihilation’?” Mercy shook her head, her blue hair drifting slightly in the vacuum.
“My destruction is different from yours.” She raised her hand.
Dark-golden energy coiled around her fingertips, but it was not pointed at Zephyro.
It was pointed at the dead star beneath her feet, at the boundless universe that had birthed countless lives and perhaps countless deaths.
“My destruction is a weapon.
A tool.
A bulwark and a blade to protect what I hold dear.
I destroy threats so that life may continue.
I destroy enemies so that hope is not strangled.
I even destroy myself to secure the future of those I love!” Her voice rose gradually, carrying an unyielding resolve.
“Is this not another form of ‘destruction’?
A…
more meaningful, more ‘existent’ destruction?” “Meaning?
Existence?” Zephyro seemed to have heard the most ridiculous joke, yet his face remained expressionless.
Only the golden flames in his eyes flickered slightly more intensely.
“Before the ultimate ‘nothing,’ all ‘meaning’ and ‘existence’ are illusion.
Useless colors that must be erased.
Your protection, your emotions, everything you cherish will eventually return to the pure white I pursue.
To fixate on the meaningless flickers of the process while ignoring the grandeur of the end is short-sighted.
A fallacy.” “You’re the short-sighted one!” Mercy retorted without backing down.
“You only see the ‘nothing’ at the end, but you ignore the light of every life that blooms along the way, the warmth brought by every act of protection.
Are these not real?
Are they not part of the universe?
If destruction is only for destruction’s sake, how is that different from a mindless machine?
Did Lord Nanook give us power just to create meaningless silence after meaningless silence?” “Lord Nanook is destruction itself!
His will is for all things to return to entropy!” Zephyro’s voice carried a ripple for the first time, an instinctive reaction to his faith being questioned.
“Your path is a deviation from the Path!
A betrayal of the blessing you were given!” “My path is my own choice!” Mercy stepped forward.
Dark-golden energy began to rise around her, making her look like a war god descending to the mortal plane, in stark contrast to Zephyro’s pure “white.” “I use this power of destruction to do what I must to protect!
This is my ‘Path’!
If that is also a fallacy, then I would rather carry this fallacy to the very end!” (T/N: translating: …
This is her ninja way!) Between them, the debate over the essence of destruction was like two fundamentally different cosmic laws colliding.
On one side, a destruction artist pursuing ultimate silence and pure beauty.
On the other, a rebellious Emanator determined to forge destruction into a blade of protection.
After a moment of silence, the pure white light around Zephyro began to grow blinding.
The surrounding void began to warp and fade under this extreme radiance, as if the very concept of “space” was being “purified” and returned to “nothing” by his power.
“The debate is over.” Zephyro’s voice returned to its previous cold, flat tone, but carried an unquestionable finality.
“It seems our understandings can never coexist on the same Path.
Words are useless now…” He slowly raised both hands, and the severed arm pieces moved in sync.
An indescribable, terrifying gravitational field, one that seemed capable of stripping away all energy, matter, and even “existence” itself, began to form around him.
Debris nearby floated up uncontrollably, then disintegrated and vanished in the pure white light, unable to maintain even the most basic particle form.
“…I will personally erase this ‘fallacy’ of yours.” Zephyro’s voice was like a final verdict.
“Let your existence also become part of this perfect silence.” A colossal white repulsion singularity, formed purely of extreme gravity and the “rejection” of all existential properties, coalesced before him.
Then, with the terrifying momentum of annihilation, it hurtled toward Mercy like a falling white sun.
Wherever it passed, space itself seemed to be “erased,” leaving a pure, void trail.
“You’re attacking already?!” Mercy’s eyes sharpened.
Facing this terrifying blow, one capable of devouring planets with ease, she showed no hesitation.
“HAAAH—!” With a clear cry, the power within her was unleashed without reservation.
Dark-golden destruction energy erupted like a volcano.
Her [Martial Artist] form activated instantly.
Her body, infused with energy, grew taller again, becoming more agile and powerful.
Her features grew sharper, her long blue hair whipping wildly in the energy storm.
Her pupils turned to cold, bright gold, and a flowing molten-gold shimmer covered her body.
She did not choose to dodge.
Nor did she try to directly clash with the white hole’s core, which represented “returning to nothing.” Instead, she lowered her waist, clenched her right fist, and gathered all her destruction energy, all her will, and all her protective conviction into that single point.
Then, she punched toward the crushing white repulsion singularity.
Not to oppose.
But to deflect.
RUMBLE—!!!
The dark-golden fist met the edge of the pure white singularity in a violent collision.
There was no earth-shattering explosion (sound does not exist in a vacuum), only an energy storm born of two fundamentally different concepts of destruction clashing, one capable of warping reality itself.
Mercy’s fist did not shatter the white hole.
That was nearly impossible.
But her power, condensed to the absolute limit and carrying her unique “destruction” will, acted like the most precise lever, violently prying at the white hole’s edge.
SCREEE—!
A grating sound of energy tearing (perceived mentally) rang out.
The massive white repulsion singularity was actually knocked off its original trajectory by Mercy’s earth-shaking punch.
It grazed past her side and hurtled toward the distant, broken planetary rings of the dead star.
In utter silence, a vast section of the rings, along with countless fragments of rock and ice, vanished instantly in the pure white light, as if they had never existed.
Only a more hollow, more dead void remained.
Mercy slowly retracted her fist.
Dark-golden energy flickered around her.
She shook her slightly numb arm (an energy-simulated sensation) and looked up at Zephyro, who still hovered in place, a faint, almost imperceptible ripple in his pure white eyes.
“It seems,” Mercy’s voice carried the slight breathlessness of battle, but her gaze remained sharp, “words can’t convince you.
I’ll have to use my fists to prove that my ‘fallacy’ also has value in existing.” Zephyro watched her silently.
The pure white light began to gather once more.
“Your struggle is also part of the process of destruction…
somewhat crude,” he declared coldly.
“But it matters not.
The final silence will embrace all things, including you…
stubborn fallacy.” The battle had only just begun.