Lord of the Truth

"...I want you to take care of someone on my behalf."

Robin blinked, a shadow of surprise flickering across his face.

"Take care of someone?" he repeated slowly, cautiously, as if weighing the weight behind the words.

A faint, almost careless smile tugged at the corner of his mouth.

"You mean... guide him? Mentor him?"

"Ahahahaha~"The All-Seeing god threw his head back and released a deep, rumbling laugh that echoed through the shattered square, the sound full of genuine amusement, as if Robin had said something truly absurd.

When the All-Seeing god's laughter finally died down, he lowered his gaze to lock eyes with Robin once again, his expression now sharpened into one of deadly seriousness.

"No,"

Robin felt his throat tighten.

He swallowed hard, an involuntary reaction.

"Please... explain then," he managed, voice low, wary.

He remembered — painfully — that when he was merely a knight, the All-Seeing god had tasked him with mission that would end with engaging a Nexus being.

Now, as a planetary emperor wielding armies at his fingertips, what level of impossible madness would he demand from him?

Would he be ordered to take on the infamous Destra Family itself?

The All-Seeing god's eyes grew distant, his voice turning solemn, like one reciting an ancient tragedy.

"...As I have told you before, every candidate I have selected and nudged toward a specific 'square' on the cosmic board has faced only two ends. Either they fail and are killed, their very existence wiped clean from the annals of history, something I ensure personally... or they succeed, but through means so vile, so filthy, that I can no longer take pride in their victory. Their triumphs come at too great a moral cost."

He paused, a bitter twist pulling at the edges of his mouth.

"Those who succeed in such ways... I discard. I sever all ties. Their contracts are completed, but their names are erased from the ledger of those worth remembering. I did not specify how they should succeed, after all — only that they must. Still, my disdain for them is absolute."

For a moment, the All-Seeing god's voice trailed into the silence, as if weighed down by memories too heavy even for him.

Then he lifted his gaze once more, and Robin felt the atmosphere shift.

"Yet, once..."

His words slowed, as though reluctant.

"...only once, did someone break this pattern."

A strange light entered the Seer's eyes, something between admiration and loathing.

"One of my candidates used the Master Law of Causality — the very gift I had personally bestowed upon him — against me."

Robin froze. The mere thought was preposterous, insane.

The All-Seeing god's methods of concealment, of manipulation, were flawless to the point of madness — Robin had experienced it firsthand.

"He sensed the threads of fate," the All-Seeing god said, voice low and deadly, "he peered into the unseen tapestry and uncovered the road he was being maneuvered onto. He saw me — the hand that guided him — and upon that realization, he made a decision."

The Seer's lips curved into something that was not a smile, but something colder.

"He fled."

"Fled?!"

Robin's voice broke out involuntarily, his heart hammering.

Who in the vast, star-strewn heavens could flee from this entity?

Who could even recognize the All-Seeing god's hand, much less resist it?

The All-Seeing god nodded slowly, almost with a trace of reluctant respect.

"After discovering the truth, he retreated with terrifying speed, reassessed everything, and — realizing he could not challenge me directly — he used the Master Law of Causality to fulfill the mission from a distance, in the shallowest, most consequence-free way imaginable. The square I had crafted — the grand stage for my game — crumbled to dust before it could ever truly begin. Seventy-three thousand years of careful preparation... wasted."

Robin felt the air grow colder around him.

He struggled to form words, beads of cold sweat sliding down his temple.

"The way you're speaking about him... it sounds like he—"

He hesitated again.

The All-Seeing god's gaze sharpened.

"You want to say that he fooled me?"

He gave a slight chuckle, a sound like knives scraping stone.

"Yes, Robin. Say it clearly. He did. He fooled me."

"Oh, Noo~ I would never presume..."

Robin muttered with a chuckle, but the damage was already done.

Still, the All-Seeing god's voice remained calm, detached.

"That boy realized what had happened to the 'Golden Candidates' before him. He studied their ends, saw their silent disappearances, and understood that should he provoke me futher, I would likely erase him without a second thought."

He chuckled darkly.

"And so... he lived his life hidden in the shadows, moving pieces from afar, never drawing attention to himself, never flaunting the Master Law he had stolen. But still... he grew. He became influential beyond measure, orchestrating events like a master puppeteer."

The All-Seeing god's mouth curled into a grim smile.

"Perhaps... he learned more from me than I expected."

He shrugged again, a casual, almost human gesture.

"I could still annihilate him. It would take little effort — a flick of my will. But the chaos it would unleash... the ripples it would send through the fabric of fate, Saving you here would be much simpler in comparison... it would not be worth the cost. Letting him live — ignoring him — is the easier, cleaner option. And he knows it."

The All-Seeing god's gaze turned piercing, burning with unspoken fury.

"But just because I tolerate it doesn't mean I forgive it."

He took a step closer to Robin, shadows gathering at his feet.

"And since I will soon have to disappear into silence because of you, Robin..."

He leaned closer, voice like a blade.

"...You will be the one to deal with him. In my place. You will be the hand I cannot show."

"..."

Robin held the Seer's piercing gaze for a full ten agonizing seconds, his own breath growing shallow under the crushing weight of the silence.

Finally, as if capitulating to an invisible pressure, he lifted his hand and began to slowly rub at his forehead, massaging the tension that had built up like a storm within his skull.

He realized then, with a sinking feeling of dread, how utterly foolish he had been to believe that the Seer would assign him something as comparatively "simple" as confronting THE Destra Family.

Why bother sending him against a mere ancient galactic family, one backed by the power of a Fundamental Law, when he could instead hurl him headlong into a conflict against a being who wielded a Master Law—

A being whose existence spanned an unknowable stretch of time—

A being who had, somehow, outwitted the All-Seeing god himself!

The sheer absurdity of it all nearly made Robin laugh.

Nearly.

"How exactly... do you expect me to deal with him?"

The words escaped Robin's lips in a half-choked, sardonic chuckle, his voice dry with disbelief.

His mind flashed back unwillingly to Helen — a foe who had very nearly ended him not long ago.

And now, in light of the current conversation, Helen seemed like little more than a pitiful footnote.

A background character.

A minor nuisance.

The All-Seeing god, however, showed no hint of jest or exaggeration.

He answered with the same solemn gravity as a judge delivering a sentence.

"Deal with him in whatever way you deem appropriate," he said flatly, the weight behind his words making Robin's stomach twist.

"He refuses to be a pawn? Fine. He's free to believe that. But I have no intention of letting him keep something that belongs to me. I intend to reclaim my Master Law. I'm not running a charity, Robin," he said with chilling detachment.

Then, even colder, even harsher:

"Kill him. Imprison him. Enslave him. Befriend him with some miraculous trick if you must. I don't particularly care about the means — only the end. All that matters is that you close that gaping front on my behalf."

Kill him?!

Imprison him?!

Enslave him?!

Robin very nearly broke down laughing—or crying.

This mission wasn't just suicidal; it was lunacy.

It was so far beyond unreasonable that his mind struggled to even categorize it.

At least...

At least, for now.

The oppressive silence stretched between them once again, thicker than tar, before Robin found the courage to break it.

"...What's the time limit on this mission?"

He almost didn't want to hear the answer.

If the All-Seeing god told him he had only fifty years — like before — then frankly, letting the impending enemy attack destroy everything might be the kinder option.

The All-Seeing god smiled — a rare, quiet, knowing smile — and responded immediately, without even a flicker of hesitation.

"It's open-ended," he smiled, almost kindly.

"Take as long as you need."

"Hoo~"

A deep, weary sigh escaped Robin's lips, his body relaxing just slightly.

At least the Seer was not entirely disconnected from reality — he recognized the sheer insanity of what he was asking.

"Alright," Robin said after a long moment, steeling himself for the journey ahead.

"I'll accept the first mission."

---------------------------

Far away, deep within the endless expanse of the middle planetary belt...

Tick Tick

A soft, rhythmic tapping echoed in the cavernous dark.

"Hmm?"

In a place where moisture clung to every surface like a second skin and darkness reigned supreme, a pair of eyes fluttered open.

Eyes as black as the void itself — eyes that seemed to swallow all light.

Their only distinction from the surrounding shadows was the fierce network of blood-red capillaries crisscrossing their depths, like galaxies condensed into tiny, trembling lines of crimson.

The figure stirred — slow, languid, unhurried — like an ancient beast awakening from eons of slumber.

A hand emerged from the darkness, moving with almost dreamlike grace, and swept through the thick, humid air.

In an instant, countless threads, impossibly thin and shimmering, burst into existence around him.

Each thread seemed to pulse faintly, as if alive, and each one remained firmly tethered to his being.

Their sudden appearance bathed the cavern in a faint, ghostly illumination, revealing its immense, hollowed-out expanse.

There was little within this colossal void — only a shattered, crumbling throne of dark stone, and a solitary man seated upon it.

He looked to be in his early thirties, though something in the ancient stillness of his posture spoke of years beyond counting.

He wore loose, unkempt robes of deep crimson and black, as if he had donned them centuries ago and forgotten to care since.

His long black hair cascaded in wild tangles, framing a face that was neither strikingly beautiful nor offensively plain, but carried a weight — a depth — that made it unforgettable.

His deep, bottomless eyes gave the impression of a creature carved not of flesh and blood, but of pure, dark intent.

The man furrowed his brow slightly, reached out, and selected a single thread from the infinite web surrounding him.

With a lazy wave of his hand, the countless others faded back into oblivion, leaving only one.

"..."

For a heartbeat, his face remained frozen — a still, silent mask.

And then —

In the blink of an eye —

Everything changed.

A wild spark ignited in those abyssal eyes, his lips pulling back into a grin that bared unnaturally sharp teeth.

Excitement — pure, raw, unfiltered excitement — surged through him like a lightning strike.

"Danger... aimed at me?"

His voice, rough and ragged from disuse, nonetheless carried a gleeful, almost manic undertone.

"It's been long... Too long, Heheh... How delightful,HAHAHAHA!"

The cavern shuddered under the force of his sudden laughter — deep, unrestrained, like thunder rolling across dead mountains.

With a fluid motion, he rose from his broken throne, dust cascading from his tattered robes.

And without a backward glance, he strode out of the cavern and into the darkness beyond, still laughing — the sound wild and echoing endlessly into the void.