Lucien’s voice carried a tremor he tried to hide, the words slipping out before he could steady himself.
“Neon… Atlas, how did you two do that?” His eyes were still wide, still trying to reconcile the image of his son vanishing in a streak of dark aura and punching through a car like it was made of paper.
His hand hovered near his chest, fingers twitching with leftover adrenaline, as the group walked the final stretch toward the palace gates Neon had left only hours earlier….
Hours that now felt like a lifetime before the world had literally cracked open.
The palace loomed ahead, its towering walls lit only by the faint glow of emergency lanterns, the once‑welcoming entrance now dark and tense.
Neon walked with his hands tucked casually into his pockets, his posture relaxed despite the chaos around them.
He cast a sideways glance at Atlas, silently prompting him to answer.
Atlas shook his head with a soft laugh, brushing soot from his shirt as essence still flickered faintly around his arms.
“Dude…
You never change,” he muttered, then lifted his gaze to the group.
“Essence… that’s what this is…
and I’m guessing it’s the fuel of this new world.” Alan frowned, rubbing his temples.
“Fuel?
Like… magic?” “I guess, sort of,” Atlas said with a shrug.
“Usually in fantasy, it’s called mana, qi, spiritual energy—whatever the author decides.
But from these status menus…
I’m thinking this might be something else.” —- They approached the palace gates, and the guards—who had previously welcomed Neon with relaxed smiles and polite bows—were now tense, guns raised, eyes sharp with fear.
The moment they recognized the group, their expressions shifted, but not toward Lucien or Alan.
“Y‑Young Master Neon,” one guard said, lowering his weapon immediately.
“Are you unharmed?” Lucien blinked in surprise, Alan’s eyebrows arching high.
Maylene and Alice traded puzzled looks.
Then it hit them…
Neon had been spending an awful lot of time with Princess Lea, enough that the palace guards greeted him like an old friend.
Atlas couldn’t hold back a snort.
“Well, no wonder they’re worried about him,” he remarked.
However, Neon brushed off the comment as he spoke keeping his tone steady.
“Things are as good as they can be at the moment,” he said.
“How’s the King?
And everyone else?” The guards shared a tense glance before replying.
“Things are… chaotic.
All the prominent families and leaders are already inside.
You’d better join them.” Hearing that, the group wasted no time and headed inside.
— The inside of the palace was already in an uproar.
Dozens of high‑ranking officials filled the grand hall, their voices overlapping in frantic waves as they argued, shouted, and demanded answers.
Papers were scattered across tables, maps of Arden marked with red ink, guards rushing back and forth with updates that only made the tension worse.
“The entire kingdom’s internet is down…
completely down!” “Everything has gone to shit!” “People aren’t listening to orders…
people are dying…
riots are breaking out…” At the far end of the hall, King Arden sat upon his throne, looking decades younger—his hair lighter, his posture straighter, his face smooth and sharp like a man in his mid‑twenties.
Beside him stood Princess Lea, a slender young woman with long blonde hair flowing down her back and eyes as white and lustrous as polished pearls.
She appeared composed, yet the gentle tapping of her fingers against her arm gave away her nervousness.
The King was silent, his advisor beside him equally lost, both men staring at the chaos with expressions that showed they had no answers.
The doors swung open, and Neon and the others walked in.
King Arden’s gaze lifted, and for the first time since the chaos began, a faint smile cracked across his face.
“The Hearts Family… and the Oculus Family.” At those words, the commotion died at once, dozens of eyes turning to the newcomers as the air grew heavier and murmurs rippled through the hall.
“Well…
what took the two top families so long?” drawled a woman with long black hair and icy dark eyes, her voice laced with sarcasm.
“Were you busy securing your assets while the rest of us struggled?” “Oh, Moria,” Maylene muttered with a scoff.
“Why is a mere duchess still concerned about us…
even after all these years?” “Enough,” King Arden said as he raised a hand.
“We have far more serious matters at hand.” Lucien, Alan, Maylene, and Alice took seats at the long table, their expressions composed despite the tension.
Neon and Atlas remained standing at the back, leaning casually against the wall like they were watching a show rather than a political crisis.
Princess Lea’s gaze flicked toward Neon before she rolled her eyes and looked away.
“Pfft… looks like the Princess has finally figured you out,” Atlas said with a laugh, giving Neon a nudge.
Neon shrugged, unfazed.
“I couldn’t care less,” he said.
“In fact, I’m glad she’s not coming towards me.” —- As everyone settled in, the room stayed quiet, waiting for the King to speak.
Instead, King Arden glanced at his advisor, who gave a soft chuckle and a nod, as though entertained by some private joke.
Then the King looked directly at Neon.
Out of all the officials in the room—out of generals, nobles, ministers, and patriarchs….
“Neon,” King Arden said, his voice steady.
“What do you think about everything that’s happening?
And do you have any idea where we should go from here?” In that moment, all eyes turned to Neon as King Arden’s words faded.
“Looks like it’s your time to shine, pretty boy,” Atlas murmured with a grin, leaning casually against the wall beside him.
Neon’s lip twitched—just the slightest crack in his composed expression—before he pushed off the wall with a slow, deliberate motion.
With his hands sliding from his pockets, he stepped forward.
In that moment, Lucien and Maylene exchanged a glance, brows raised in quiet confusion, while Alan and Alice had the same look.
It was as if all four parents were silently wondering what on earth was going on and why the King of Arden was speaking to Neon like he was a long‑trusted advisor.
“King Arden…
so you’re really going to call me out like this?” Neon asked, his voice flat, almost bored.
A murmur of surprise rippled through the hall, but King Arden merely chuckled, the sound warm and oddly youthful against the heavy tension in the air.
“Neon…
times are changing,” he said, leaning back in his throne with an easy air.
“And I need all hands on deck.” The words had barely faded when one of the dukes, a broad‑shouldered man with piercing eyes and a rigid stance, pushed himself up from his chair, his voice calm but edged with clear tension.
“Your Majesty,” he began, dipping his head just enough to show deference, “what is the meaning of this?
Seeking counsel from—” “Duke Rockelle,” King Arden said without even casting him a glance, “Now is not the time.” The duke’s jaw tightened, but he sat down without another word.
Neon shook his head again as though the entire exchange were more exhausting than the chaos outside.
“Well…
I don’t think the world just changed,” Neon said, his eyes sweeping across the hall.
In that moment, he laid out everything he and Atlas had pieced together.
Basically, the old-world order was gone, and humanity, at least as they’d always known it, no longer existed.
As he explained that Earth and the realm of Fantasy had somehow collided, an almost tangible silence fell over the room, the weight of his words pressing down on everyone present.
“This…
can’t be real, can it?” Princess Lea muttered as her eyes widened; she, much like everyone else, couldn’t truly believe the sort of reality that Earth had become a world of Fantasy.
Yet, even more so, internally she couldn’t help but be distracted by his new look.
‘And…
why does he look even more beautiful?’ “Hmph, bastard,” she muttered to herself, just as the hall erupted, snapping her back to reality.
Duke Rockelle scoffed loudly, rising halfway from his seat.
“We’re truly entertaining the words of the kingdom’s womanizer now?
This is absurd!” Duchess Moria cut him off, her black eyes narrowing as she leaned forward.
“Is it really that absurd?” she asked, a wry smile tugging at her lips.
“Just look outside, Rockelle.
People are lifting cars, running faster than we ever thought possible… and the damn sky literally cracked open.” She paused, her gaze shifting back to Neon.
“I have to admit… this brat’s explanation makes more sense than anything we’ve managed to come up with so far.” Lord Shanks, a quiet man with brown hair and a gaze that seemed to see far more than he ever said, remained silent.
He watched Neon and Atlas with an unreadable expression, his fingers tapping lightly against the table.
“Hmm?” Neon mused as his eyes briefly met Lord Shanks’, but before he could dwell on it, King Arden raised his hand.
After a quick, hushed discussion with his advisor, the King faced Neon again.
“So,” He said as he gave a single nod, “What do you think…
is the proper step forward?” At the question, Neon didn’t respond right away.
‘This feeling…’ he thought to himself, as the same rush he’d experienced amidst the chaos outside washed over him again.
But now, it felt stronger—deeper—like something was trying to claw its way up from the depths of his heart.
‘Neon… focus!’ he urged himself silently, giving his head a quick shake to clear it.
Turning his attention back to King Arden, he let the quiet linger, allowing the weight of the question to hang heavily in the air.
“First,” he said, “we need to understand exactly what these powers are.
What essence it is.
What this… Existential Game means.
Without that, we’re blind.” He paused, his gaze shifting toward the large map of Arden pinned to the wall.
“Second, we focus on Eden.
More importantly, the Kingdom of Arden.
If we stabilize the capital, everything else will fall into place.” As his words ended…
the room went still.
Not with disbelief, but with the quiet realization that his words made sense—more sense than anything said in the last hour.
Lucien stared at his son, shock flickering across his face.
‘Since when did Neon become the King’s advisor?’ Maylene wondered, her eyes widening as she tried to make sense of what was happening before them.
‘Is this because of Princess Lea?
Or is there something else entirely going on?’ Lucien thought, still unable to tear his gaze away.
Before any of them could dwell on their questions, King Arden rose from his throne, with his advisor and Lea flanking him.
His voice rang through the hall, steady and commanding.
“Effective immediately,” he declared, “the capital is under lockdown….
No one leaves, and testing begins at once.” He stepped down from the dais, his coat brushing lightly against the marble floor as he walked toward the exit.
“All families, all officials—prepare yourselves.
This is only the beginning.” He paused at the doorway, turning his head slightly.
“Neon.
Come with me.” Neon sighed, the sound soft and resigned, and began walking toward the King.
Atlas laughed behind him, pushing off the wall and strolling toward his parents with a grin.
“Surprised?” he asked, his tone playful.
Maylene looked at him sharply.
“Atlas… what is going on?
Do you know something?” Atlas shrugged, slipping his hands into his pockets with a wry smile.
“Nah, I don’t know a thing,” he said smoothly, lying as if it came naturally.
“Everything’s just for fun, that’s all.”