Merlin could destroy this world. Not raze it. Not erode it slowly. Destroy it.

  And from what he understood of the power, he wouldn’t survive it.

  Frozen in place, he stared at the dark icon floating in his field of view.

  [Apocalypse]. Three charges. Three worlds to erase. Three divine judgments, lodged in his chest.

  He inhaled slowly. It wasn’t a spell. Not a weapon. It was a black hole waiting to happen. A red “you are dead” on a black screen, carved into his flesh.

  And the real question, the only one that mattered, began to take shape: why would he ever use that power? Why would he agree to destroy everything? Including himself?

  He had nothing here. No ties. No familiar faces. Not even an enemy. The jungle rustled softly around him. The wind carried the bitter scent of hot soil, roots, and rot. The horizon was empty. Except for the giant sitting far away.

  Who would die, really, if he triggered [Apocalypse]? That strange entity? Himself?

  Maybe no one. Maybe this world was already dead.

  And besides… he wasn’t even sure he was awake.

  “Yeah, this is a stupid dream,” he muttered, almost calmly. “I’m sure of it now.”

  A dull pain, lodged between his heart and stomach, pulled him back into the world. A wave of nausea hit him. He hunched forward, teeth clenched. The sensation spread, slow and sticky, like acid burn mixed with crushing pressure. Something inside him twisted. He stayed still, waiting for it to pass.

  To distract himself, he tried something else.

  “I’d like an invisibility power.”

  His voice barely echoed in the silence. He stared at the air in front of him. Nothing. Not the faintest magical shiver. No flash of light, no surge of energy. He added quickly:

  “When I want to, obviously. Not all the time.”

  After what had happened with [Apocalypse], better to be specific.

  He watched for a sign, a flicker. Nothing. Not even a lag.

  He pressed his lips together, exhaled through his nose. Then tried again:

  “I want to stop time. And be able to start it again.”

  Still nothing. Except for this weight in my stomach, this inner fire that wouldn't go away.

  “Okay… I want to fly. Go wherever I want in the sky, and land whenever I choose.”

  He waited a few more seconds. Then slowly lowered his head and rubbed his eyes with a weary hand. The system wasn’t responding anymore.

  He looked up at his [Analysis] window, hoping for an answer, a clear line, anything he could work with. But the interface was flickering, saturated with glitches. Symbols danced between columns. Words warped, melting into cascades of #ERROR.

  “Pff. Damn isekai.”

  “What is it you gaze upon, human?”

  A deep, slow voice. Behind him.

  He sprang forward, spun around, arms raised to shield his face and neck. No warning. No sound. But he was no longer alone.

  When he saw him, his eyes widened.

  The giant he’d seen on the mountain was there. Right in front of him. But human-sized now, like the silhouette he had glimpsed through the misty portal.

  Same face, same aura. A young man in appearance too perfect to be real. Just a cloth around his hips, jet-black hair falling straight, and that gaze… golden, radiant, hard to hold.

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  A silver light floated around him, as if lit from within. He had that divine quality from old Hindu myths, except he didn’t need extra arms to look godlike.

  Bracelets spun lazily around his wrists and ankles, gleaming, matching his earrings. And his feet didn’t even touch the ground. He floated. Peaceful. As if he weighed nothing.

  “Who are you?” Merlin shouted.

  He shook his head, trying to collect himself, then snapped, more sharply:

  “Actually, no. I don’t care who you are. You’re the one who brought me here, right? So send me back. Now.”

  Only the wind replied.

  Then, without moving his lips, the angelic figure said in a calm voice:

  “Gara is my name.”

  “I just told you I—”

  A jolt of pain ripped a strangled cry from him, and he dropped to his knees. This wasn’t discomfort. This was torture. And the worst part was, it spread, wave after wave, like his body had turned against itself. A violent nausea surged. So corrosive even vomiting seemed impossible. The air vibrated faintly, like reality itself was rippling with his agony.

  Gara stepped forward.

  “This dissonance will fade soon. When the fusion of your beings is complete, your thoughts shall be your own… and so shall your movements.”

  Merlin, unable to move, breathed in short bursts. Each heartbeat pounded through his raw body.

  Gara placed a calm hand on his shoulder.

  “D-don’t touch me…” Merlin rasped.

  And then, in an instant, the pain and hallucinations vanished. As if they’d never existed.

  But the relief wasn’t instant. His body, still in shock, refused to move. Muscles trembled with aftershocks. Nerves stayed on edge, expecting the torment to return.

  He placed a hand on the ground and shivered, gathering strength to rise. Each motion took effort, like waking after too long a sleep.

  He finally found his voice:

  “Why are you torturing me like this? What did I ever do to you?”

  Gara stared in silence, his golden eyes unreadable.

  Around them, the world seemed suspended. And yet, in that stillness, the sounds of nature grew clearer: the distant surf, the whisper of leaves, the far-off cries of hidden creatures..

  Gara slowly closed his eyes. A strange light passed through his gaze, as if he was following a thread of thought beyond reach. When he spoke, his voice felt distant, almost detached.

  “The three gifts bestowed upon the Hero… The first you chose is no simple glance into mana. It is a diffuse perception, a breath brushing the invisible, a veil lifted between what is… and what becomes.”

  His voice floated, soft and strange, suspended between two silences.

  “This ability does not measure… it feels. It does not read… it listens. Mana flows slip beyond time, quiver through space. But they are not written in symbols or numbers. The answers are neither given nor explained. They print themselves upon your eyes, but it is up to you to interpret them. For what you see is not a truth… only a reflection in the water of a lake. And the lake itself… may not exist.”

  Merlin parted his lips, uncertain, then muttered:

  “Cool. No idea what you just said.”

  Still seated, he stretched slowly, hoping to chase off the tingling still crawling in his limbs. A dizzy spell spun his head. His muscles buzzed. His palms were damp.

  He closed his eyes for a moment, drew a deep breath. He had to stay sharp. Find the right words. Find a way out.

  When he looked back at the near-divine figure facing him, his voice was steadier than he’d expected.

  “Look… Gara, right? I don’t know what you want from me, and honestly, I don’t care. But you need to understand something: I don’t belong here.”

  He paused, choosing his words, then continued with more resolve:

  “You know, there are tons of people on Discord who’d kill to be in my place. I swear, some are so obsessed with isekai they joke about getting hit by a truck just to see if it works. If it’s a volunteer you need, let me go home and I’ll hand you a list. I’ll even give you usernames.”

  His expression hardened.

  “But me… I don’t want this. I love isekai, sure, I’ve read hundreds. But I never, ever, ever wanted to live one. Never. Honestly, this is my worst nightmare.”

  A small, nervous sigh escaped him. Then, seeing Gara still impassive, he pressed on, more urgent:

  “Man, I’m begging you. Send me back. I’m not the guy you need. Someone who panics just stepping outside? Seriously, that’s not what you want. So here’s the deal: take this body, take the powers, do what you want with them. Just let me go home, okay?”

  His eyes locked onto Gara’s, searching for a reaction, a sign, anything. But the youth remained unreadable.

  Exasperated, Merlin took a deep breath and snapped:

  “Fine. What do you want, then? For me to save the world? Forget it. I don’t give a damn about mine. So imagine how much I care about yours.”

  Still nothing from Gara. The stubborn silence pushed Merlin over the edge.

  “Hey! I’m talking to you! Say something! You want me to fight some Demon God or whatever? Is that it?”

  A flicker of amusement passed over Gara’s lips, like he was enjoying a joke only he understood.

  “This world harbors a hundred Demon Gods.” He tilted his head slightly, his golden eyes glinting with something unreadable.

  Merlin shut his eyes, struggling to contain the rising fury. He drew a deep breath, exhaled slowly. Keep it together. Do not explode.

  Still aching, still tense, he stepped closer. Face-to-face, his forehead nearly touched Gara’s when he roared:

  “I don’t care! I don’t give a damn! How many times do I have to say it? Send me home!”

  In a surge of rage, he reached out to grab Gara’s shoulders, but his hands grasped only air. The boy had vanished. In his place, a scatter of glowing particles drifted through the air, like fireflies caught in a breeze.

  Merlin stepped back, eyes wide. He scanned the surroundings, right, left… nothing. Then he looked up.

  High above the ground, Gara floated in the air, wrapped in a gentle glow. Perfectly calm. He raised a finger slowly, pointing toward a distant peak piercing the clouds.

  “Join me in Karkin.”

  He paused, then added in a serene voice:

  “And I shall offer you the way back home.”