Path of the Extra

A dark expression painted Azriel’s face as he silently absorbed Pollux’s words.

’Ahhh… how annoying…’

This burning sensation…

Yes—that was his soul screaming, wasn’t it?

His soul was burning, wasn’t it?

Yes…

Yes, it was.

After a heavy silence, Azriel abruptly laughed—a dark, choking laugh, like someone drowning in mud. Eventually, he quieted, dropping his head slightly, exhaling a weary, burdened sigh.

“Coward? You’re just a hypocrite, aren’t you, Pollux?” Azriel said suddenly, wiping away tears formed from bitter laughter.

“Ah, but what you said about my fate… maybe you’re right. You know the future, don’t you?” He raised his eyes, giving Pollux a meaningful smile.

“You’re the divine spirit who’s spoken with the Goddess of Death. Though, I wonder what you two discussed. As her son, I can’t help but feel anxious. But apart from that—I still don’t understand your purpose in this world. Clearly, every action you take has a reason. Coward, slave of fate, son of death… tell me, spirit, what is it you want from me? To destroy fate? Or perhaps, like Xian Feng, you wish me to kill the gods? Tell me, O mighty Divine Star Spirit Emperor—who allowed his entire world, his people, and even their names to vanish from history—what exactly do you expect of me?”

Azriel’s smile twisted mockingly.

“Do you want to give me character development?”

He laughed again bitterly. What did it matter?

Yes, what did it matter? A slave to fate…

Why should that matter at all?

…Why should it…

“Or perhaps you’re just hiding the fact that, despite everything, you’ve started caring for Mio,” Azriel spat, as though tasting poison.

“If you truly wanted, you could’ve stopped me from killing her. You knew she’d stolen Sealbreaker from you. You allowed her to take it. You allowed her to die.”

Azriel’s smile darkened further.

“I wonder which one of us has a kind heart now.”

Pollux shook his head and gave a twisted laugh.

“There you go again, acting like a coward.”

“And there you go again, acting like a hypocrite.”

Pollux scoffed, turning suddenly and walking away. The silver flames parted silently as he passed. Azriel, glaring at his retreating back, hesitated briefly before following.

They walked quietly, tension lingering between them until Pollux unexpectedly broke the silence.

“I don’t understand,” he murmured.

Azriel frowned slightly.

“What?”

Pollux hesitated, continuing onward before finally voicing his thoughts.

“You humans… from all the memories I’ve seen… why do you always speak of love as something beautiful?”

Azriel fell silent.

Pollux continued softly, almost to himself,

“If love is beautiful, then why does it make you humans bleed so much? Why crave it so desperately, as if you’ve never once felt true love? The little flower cried endlessly—not because she was weak, but because love had been stolen from her. Because she had been betrayed. Because she’d believed it was real, only to be deceived. She’d sleep, awaken, and weep again—over and over, endlessly.”

Pollux halted, turning to face Azriel, whose expression had become complex and unreadable.

“Isn’t love simply a sin?” Pollux whispered.

Then, with a tired sigh, he glanced away and looked upward, toward the blazing sun.

“Well, I suppose everyone sins at least once in their life.”

Azriel approached quietly, standing beside Pollux, eyes fixed on the radiant sun. Finally, he spoke softly.

“Aren’t you going to kill me?”

Pollux didn’t look at him.

“There’s no point.”

“Why? Because I’m fate’s slave? Because my existence is crucial for the future? Is that stopping you?”

“No,” Pollux replied calmly.

“There’s no future with you in it. Fate desperately tries either to kill or save you—anything to define your existence clearly.”

“…Why?”

“I don’t know.”

Azriel hesitated.

“Is that why, back at the cabin, you doubted I was human?”

“Yes. There’s no human—no living being—with only a single thread of fate wrapped around them.”

Azriel exhaled sharply, breath frosting in the air.

“Then what am I?”

“I don’t know.”

Azriel pressed his lips together tightly, falling into silence. Pollux spoke again, both gazing at the sun as its burning glow bathed them.

“Killing you would be meaningless. She loves you too deeply—whether you’re her apostle or her son—she will never let you die. She’ll always save you.”

“…Why does she love me so much?”

Pollux let out a single, bitter laugh.

“That… is one of the greatest mysteries, known only to you and her.”

“What did you two talk about? You said I’m not part of any future. Yet she knew I’d be here, didn’t she?”

Azriel remembered that moment when Mio became the Forest of Eternity. Still, he felt as if his mind had betrayed him, conjuring illusions. Pollux didn’t answer this time.

Azriel scoffed softly. Of course.

He posed another question.

“Do you know about Ynoth?”

“I don’t,” Pollux responded slowly.

“And if I don’t, most gods likely don’t either—including the God of Time. Frankly, it’s best to avoid that god entirely. Our memories… they’ve likely been tampered with by someone—or something.”

Azriel’s eyes widened, a chill running down his spine.

Someone had altered even the memories of gods?

Yet, the Goddess of Death knew…

Why was she the only one who knew?

Eventually, after another long silence, Azriel quietly asked,

“…Where is the Skinwalker? And those three angels?”

Pollux’s flames continued devouring the void worms, but what about the others?

“What else…? I killed them.”

Azriel stared blankly for a moment, before answering plainly, “I see.”

Yet, after another pause, he asked again, concern tinting his voice, “Aren’t you afraid? You know this is a scenario, right? I’m a participant, meaning those watching—”

“No one is watching you or me, Son of Death.”

Azriel’s confusion deepened, prompting Pollux to elaborate calmly as he gazed up at the sun.

“You underestimate the benefits of being loved by her. She won’t allow those pests to spy on you. Indeed, you are a participant of the Theogonies, but think of yourself as someone without independent screentime in a show or movie. You’ll only appear the moment you come into contact with another participant—and even then, only from that participant’s perspective. No one knows what occurred in this forest, or about Mio, or about you and me. The deaths of those three angels, the Skinwalker, the void worms—all of it remains unseen, unnoticed by anyone except the ’Fourth Authority.’ But even ’The Twelve Scenario Tyrants of the Divine Court’ are separate from those ’gods.’ They cannot disclose what they’ve seen, nor reveal your existence. It will be like this in every Theogony you partake in. From now on, what you show those watching is entirely under your control.”

Azriel’s eyes widened sharply.

He… hadn’t known.

Theogonies…

That was the name given to these scenarios.

It was the year 2149 on Azriel’s world, the year of the first wave of Theogonies.

A cataclysmic divine phenomenon occurred when beams of pure white light—Divine Lances—pierced through the cracked heavens, selecting and drawing chosen humans into alternate realities. Worlds, realms, dimensions—places where participants had roles to fulfill, objectives to complete, and conditions to satisfy to claim victory. Yet unbeknownst to them, the gods were observing.

But what was the purpose of these scenarios, these Theogonies?

It was simple—to judge their world. To determine if their world deserved divine grace, if humanity merited their presence, if mankind was worthy of standing beneath gods.

Yet the greatest irony was that the gods themselves struggled immensely on Azriel’s world. Why?

Because the world’s providence was far stronger than anticipated. Still, even the strongest world providence had its limits. Naturally, countless humans were selected, countless died, and countless scenarios unfolded.

In the book, Path of Heroes, Lumine and other key characters shared the same scenario. It was a pivotal event, the moment destined to create deep bonds, drawing them closer. While the gods watched, judged, and were entertained.

Azriel, however, was worried.

Despite the scenarios’ proclaimed fairness, Jasmine always found herself in the worst possible starting conditions. Yet, this time… it appeared Azriel had taken his sister’s unfortunate role.

Strangely, though, it seemed Azriel was neither watched nor judged—nor even placed within that bracket of fairness.

A dark premonition suddenly gripped Azriel.

’My rewards… I… I’ll still receive my rewards, right?!’

His expression grew grim. For the first time since opening both eyes again after Mio’s death, Azriel felt something other than hollow emptiness.

If he received no rewards…

If not…

If not…

He would slaughter those stingy gods himself!

…But that was a concern for his future self.

Things…

Many things had changed now that Azriel possessed this revelation.

The gods knew nothing about him.

So if he…

If he were to kill someone like Pierre without restraint…

No god would ever know—as long as no other participant witnessed it.

“They don’t know you’re here, meaning they also won’t know that I’m here. But now that I’ve killed those three children… things will undoubtedly change,” Pollux suddenly spoke coldly, making Azriel turn toward him, confused.

“Fate is rather irritating, isn’t it, Son of Death? It wasn’t a mere coincidence that two anomalies like us crossed paths. It was fate’s careful orchestration. Fate seems to favor those gods—but amusingly, in the end, fate favors only the boldest.”

Pollux sighed deeply behind his wolf mask, then suddenly broke into quiet laughter. Finally, he spoke again:

“You once asked if I wished to fly toward the sun again, didn’t you, Son of Death? But tell me… why should I fly toward it when I can bring the sun to me instead?”

“Huh?”

Azriel didn’t understand—at least not until Pollux slowly spread his arms wide, as if embracing an unseen truth.

“You’ve seen the withered little flower, haven’t you? Her memories… I needed her [Unique Skill].”

Azriel’s heart jolted. His eyes widened, realization dawning.

’He can’t possibly mean—’

His thought was swiftly confirmed by Pollux’s next chilling words:

“I needed to copy her [Unique Skill]. All she had to do was activate it. From that moment, the withered little flower had served her purpose. And now that she’s gone, my promise to her has ended as well.”

An even darker premonition clutched at Azriel’s chest, his heart racing frantically as dread surged through him.

“You were curious about my intentions in this world, weren’t you? About what exactly I planned? Well… look around you.”

Azriel obeyed, his eyes sweeping the surroundings.

All he saw were trees.

And silver flames.

“Perhaps this will clear things up.”

Pollux snapped his fingers, and suddenly Azriel found himself standing before an eerily familiar place—one he’d never witnessed through his own eyes, only Mio’s memories.

The entrance to a magnificent palace.

Yes, magnificent, splendidly beautiful when Azriel had seen it through Mio’s vision.

But now?

All Azriel saw was decay. The once-grand structure stood abandoned, smothered by leaves and entangled by creeping vines. Trees grew rampant, both outside and within, claiming every inch of its former glory.

’No…’

Pollux laughed darkly, a chilling sound.

“Theogonies—the scenarios—they’re merely trials of the gods. Well, Son of Death, I chose to be here because I’ve seen the future. I allowed myself to exist as this ’fake’ version… specifically to hijack this scenario, and transform it into the trial of the Great Divine Star Spirit Emperor!”

His laughter erupted into madness, echoing with sinister delight.

Azriel felt himself being consumed by a terrible, overwhelming dread, his breath catching as terror gripped him.

Pollux’s laughter continued, growing louder, more uncontrollable, as Azriel frantically surveyed his surroundings. His mouth turned dry, burning like sand.

It was as though…

It was as though he had been cast into a…

“Welcome, Son of Death, to a World of Eternity.”