Prologue: The Return of the Sky

—Year 4000 Before the Holy Calendar.

In the plaza before the Taum Celestial Temple, countless stone pillars stood in solemn rows.

“…Sora… Where on earth did you go…?”

A white-haired girl with grotesque wings sprouting from her back gazed at the distant, scorched red sky.

At the end of her line of sight floated a majestic, grandiose, and overwhelmingly imposing sky castle.

“Your mission isn’t over yet… You’re the only one who can save this world… That’s why we’ve been fighting so hard all this time… So…!”

“Is that really what you want, La’tirika?”

Behind the white-haired girl named La’tirika, another girl appeared.

She was a young girl, hardly older than a child. One might even call her a toddler.

Her hair stretched long, down to her feet, and her ice-blue eyes gleamed. Her underdeveloped body was draped in a white robe adorned with strange patterns, its hem slightly too long for her frame.

Yet, despite her youthful appearance… an air of dignity and gravitas, unique to those who had lived through eons, emanated from her.

“…Le Silva.”

Without turning around, La’tirika called her friend’s name.

The long-haired toddler—Le Silva—continued speaking to La’tirika’s back.

“Deep down, you think it’s fine if she never comes back… Don’t you?”

“…That’s not… true… I…”

La’tirika’s response lacked conviction.

“Sorry, that was a bit mean of me. Either way… all we can do now is believe in Sora and wait.”

“…Hmph.”

La’tirika turned away, visibly displeased… and that’s when it happened.

Crackle!

A bolt of blue lightning streaked through the void.

“—!?”

La’tirika and Le Silva snapped their gazes toward the center of the plaza.

There, a complex magical array was etched into the ground.

The array thrummed with surging mana, activating its power amid a torrent of crackling lightning.

“This… could it be…!?”

“She’s coming back… That girl is coming back…!?”

With expectant expressions, the two watched as the magical array’s power intensified.

Before them, the mana swelled boundlessly, growing stronger, stronger, and stronger still.

The lightning born from its aftershocks writhed and danced wildly around them.

And then—

Boom!

With an especially violent thunderclap, a “gate”—the《Corridor of Stars》—opened in the void, as woman clad in a black dress descended.

Her identity was…

“Sora!?”

La’tirika shouted, rushing toward the woman—Celica.

“You’re back safe!?”

“Yeah, I’ve returned, Nam—oh, in this era, it’s La’tirika, isn’t it?”

Celica spoke calmly.

“It was a long journey… but I’ve finally come back… to fulfill my mission.”

“Finally…?”

At Celica’s words, La’tirika furrowed her brow.

“What do you mean, ‘finally’? And what’s with that weird outfit? …Wait, hold on! Just how long were you thrown through time!?”

“…Setting up that ‘insurance’ was the right call. Thanks to it, I can fight again.”

Ignoring La’tirika’s question, Celica asked one of her own.

“…What’s today’s date?”

“Not much time has passed since you were dimensionally banished by the Demon King. …Three days.”

Though confused, La’tirika answered Celica’s question.

“Three days, huh… Accounting for deviations, that’s the limit, I suppose. …But I made it in time.”

With that, Celica took a step forward.

“…By the way, where’s everyone else? The others besides you two?”

As if suddenly remembering, she asked.

“They’re all dead. Probably hanging somewhere in the Demon Capital by now. It’s just us left.”

La’tirika lowered her eyes, answering solemnly.

“…I see.”

Celica murmured, a trace of sorrow in her voice.

“Le Silva, come. We’re going. This is the true final battle.”

With that, she called to Le Silva and began to leave.

“W-Wait, Sora!”

La’tirika hurriedly tried to stop her.

“What is it, La’tirika? We don’t have time. Stay here and behave. You’re in no condition to fight anymore, are you?”

“That’s not it! Explain yourself properly!”

La’tirika pointed behind Celica, shouting.

“Who are those kids who came with you through time and space!?”

“…What…?”

Celica turned around.

There, collapsed on the ground, were two figures—a man and a woman.

Their names were—

“Glenn!? Sistine!? No way! Why are you here!?”

Celica’s eyes widened in shock.

The sheer impossibility of the scene nearly blanked her mind, but she quickly regained her composure.

“Did you follow me!? If you jumped to the destination I set in that planetarium device, it’d make sense you’d end up here… but what a reckless thing to do…!”

Celica clutched her head, groaning.

“Why did you come… Why did you have to come, Glenn…? If you end up in a hell like this, then what was the point of everything I…!”

As Celica faltered, La’tirika pressed her.

“Explain, Sora. What happened where you were banished by the Demon King…? Who are these kids?”

“…”

For a moment, Celica remained silent.

“There’s no time to explain.”

She cut the conversation short with a cold tone.

“Right now, the ‘offerings’ loaded into the vessel of the Demon Capital Melgalius are already brimming to the point of overflowing. All that’s left is for the Demon King to complete the final ritual at dawn tomorrow, and the world will end. …The countdown to the world’s destruction has already begun.”

“I know that, but…!”

“But I made it in time. So, I’m going. To connect the past and the future… the causality of this world. …I’m leaving the rest to you.”

“Sora!?”

“When they wake up, use that planetarium device to send them back to the future immediately.”

“…The future…?”

“Check the device’s logs for the temporal coordinates of their destination. The device in this era is already critically damaged, but it should manage one more spatial-temporal transfer. Don’t tell them anything—just send them back to the future.”

“Why…?”

“…Because I don’t want them to know my horrific true nature.”

“…!”

La’tirika was at a loss for words.

Celica began chanting a spell under her breath.

It wasn’t a spell in the low runes of modern magic.

It was a far more advanced, refined language, closer to the《Origin Melody》.

It was an ancient spell, woven in high runes.

As she chanted, an immense surge of mana radiated from Celica’s entire body.

If Glenn had been conscious, he would surely have been stunned.

This mana—it wasn’t the Celica he knew.

It was an absolute, overwhelming mana that far surpassed anything he was familiar with.

The surging mana unfurled multiple magical arrays around Celica.

“Le Silva, let’s go. My servant.”

“…Understood. If that’s what you wish.”

Le Silva nodded at Celica’s words.

A pillar of light shot up, engulfing the world in blinding radiance, and their bodies vanished within it.

A spatial transfer spell.

It was a feat beyond the common sense of mages. A mana of an entirely different magnitude.

Yet, witnessing such magic firsthand, La’tirika, left behind, murmured sadly… and with frustration.

“To have weakened so much… What happened to you where you were banished, Sora…?”

For a while, La’tirika stood dazed, thinking of the departed Celica.

But eventually, she snapped back to reality and looked down at the ground.

There, Glenn and Sistine still lay unconscious.

“…What’s going on here… Just what is this!?”

With a hint of irritation, La’tirika approached Glenn.

Shaking him without restraint, she shouted.

“Hey, you! Just who are you!? Come on, wake up already! Don’t sleep in a place like this! Are you okay!? Hey!”

Shake, shake. Shake, shake.

La’tirika peered into Glenn’s face, roughly jostling his body.

“…Ugh… Ah…?”

After being jostled for a while, Glenn’s consciousness began to stir faintly, responding.

La’tirika barked at him further.

“Hey, are you okay!? Ugh, you’re such a handful…! What’s with today!? First, Sora suddenly comes back, and now these weird people…!”

Then, Glenn slowly opened his eyes and looked at La’tirika.

And he murmured,

“…Nameless…?”

At that, La’tirika puffed out her cheeks in indignation and snapped back.

“…Who are you calling Nameless? That’s rude.”

And so,

In the year 4000 Before the Holy Calendar—5,853 years before Glenn and his era—a story began, tying together the past and future, the causality of this world, racing relentlessly toward its predetermined end.

Loran Ertoria, the author of the fairy tale ‘The Magician of Melgalius’, wrote thus in its afterword

“This story is one that has already ended, with a fixed conclusion set in stone.”

“To put it simply, this story holds no salvation—”