As the battlefields of Earth echoed with blood and void, the consciousness of Raiyan, Adrian, the household staff, and the old man merged into a single point. This was no ordinary death; it was a cosmic metaphysical transit point—Nihilopolis, known as the 'City of Tears.' It is a city that serves as a crossroads for heaven, earth, hell, and various narratives.

  Raiyan opened his eyes before the gray, mist-veiled gates of the City of Tears. The curse of his long-standing immortality had been washed away. He stopped in his tracks, looking ahead. From behind the curtain of mist, a female figure emerged. She wore that familiar white saree, her eyes filled with eternal waiting.

  "Raiyan... you finally returned?"

  Raiyan stood motionless. His long loneliness, the harshness of being the judge for a thousand years, broke into tears in a single moment. He took his wife’s hand. There were no blood-stained hands anymore, only the union of two weary souls.

  A strange sight appeared a little further away. Razia was sitting with a large Dastarkhān spread out. Beside her, Abdur Rahman and Sobuj were talking in profound peace. Suddenly, they saw their old master—Ariyan's father—walking past them. Abdur Rahman stood up and gave a salute, but the master embraced him. Here, there was no servant, no high or low. They were all part of one cosmic family now.

  The old man suffering from dementia was seen in a wide garden. His lost son was no longer a shadow of fear, but a smiling teenager. Placing his hand on his son’s head, the old man said, "I won't forget anything anymore, my boy. From now on, we will always be together."

  In the central square of Nihilopolis, Adrian stood alone. He felt as though he was still that neglected boy. But suddenly, a divine voice echoed through the sky. The names of Adrian and Raiyan were recorded as heroes in cosmic history.

  Arkhos, the guardian of Nihilopolis, appeared before them and said: "None of you have lost. Your sacrifice has saved the Earth from ultimate destruction. From today, you are not merely the dead; you are the Summonable Guardians. Whenever Earth faces an unearthly crisis in the future, your bravery will be awakened again."

  Before they all left the city, Niha called out to them. Niha asked anxiously, "Where were you? Why couldn't I feel your presence? While the information of the entire universe is at my fingertips, how did you become invisible?"

  Raiyan’s calm voice resonated, "We were in this city. But our surroundings were filled with black mist. Light could not enter there, and our existence was blocked by an invisible wall."

  Niha understood everything in an instant. Her eyes burned with rage and wonder. "Pocket Narrative!" she whispered. "It isolated you from the story of the main universe and trapped you in a small artificial narrative. This is why Akasha couldn't find you. You were outside the world of information."

  Niha knew not a single moment could be wasted. Ariyan and Nihira were still lying amidst the ruins of the battlefield, but their mental states were fragile. Niha decided she would enter the 'Noosphere'—the layer of collective human thought. Ariyan and Nihira might be lost from Akasha, but their thoughts and memories were still rooted in the deep forests of the Noosphere.

  However, Niha was cautious. She was no ordinary entity; she was an Ethereal Primarch. The intensity of her presence was so great that stepping into a sensitive layer like the Noosphere could trigger a cataclysm. Even a slight deviation in her power could shatter the Noosphere, erasing the consciousness of all humans on Earth forever.

  But a terrible danger was watching her. Wandering into the depths of the Noosphere meant attracting the gaze of the Void Warder. As a guardian, the Warder would never allow a higher entity to interfere with the world of human thought. Niha felt a pair of ice-cold eyes watching her from the shadows.

  On Earth, a time of cataclysm had descended. The bright aura of Raiyan’s sacrificial blood was slowly fading, and from that abyss of emptiness, the original shadow emerged with a roar. It was no longer a common darkness; it was a horror that wanted to swallow all of existence. Nihira lay nearby, motionless, while the bottomless black hole in Ariyan’s eyes trembled constantly.

  At that moment, a slow but firm footstep was heard through the mist. No magician, no unearthly entity—it was that veteran soldier of World War II, whom Ariyan had seen in front of the college. In one hand, he held that old, rusted soldier's badge, and in the other, a strange metal compass, which was now glowing with an intense blue light.

  Ariyan watched in surprise. The old man wore that old, torn uniform, bearing the scars of a thousand battles. The old man stood beside Ariyan. There was no fear in his eyes, only the stillness of a weary warrior.

  The old man said in a broken voice, "This is just another battle in this world. Going for another walk with the family. Just one more step, one more breath. I am falling from the roof. A hero is needed. I am just a human, not a superhuman. Today I am losing my faith. Someone has to be saved. I am just standing in a corner. This is just another day in this world."

  The old man went to the shadow. He held up the glowing compass. The wind stopped moving. The old man looked at that giant shadow and smiled a strange, magical smile.

  "I know who you are," the old man said calmly. "You are the lamentation of that silent room that I have carried for the last fifty years. Every night when I sit alone in the room, this silence speaks to me. In every second of my loneliness, you were by my side. You are no one else; you are the silence that brings peace to a human from within."

  Looking at Ariyan, the old man said, "Life isn't just about survival, kid. Sometimes, to win some battles, you have to bet yourself. This world is very beautiful." With these words, the compass trapped both of them in a room.

  The old man had died. The shadow was also trapped for a while. Ariyan and Nihira began calling Niha in their minds. No one but her could save them.

  He opened his eyes. There was no blood-soaked battlefield in front of him, no destructive shadow. His surroundings were now covered in an eternal gray mist—the mysterious gates of Nihilopolis. And he was no longer an old man. He was now a young youth.

  As he moved forward a bit, several familiar figures became clear through the mist. They were all wearing soldier uniforms, but there were no bloodstains on those clothes, no scars of war. They were laughing. He remembered—these were the young warriors who had lost their lives before his eyes during World War II.

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  "Hey, look, our old friend has arrived!" a young soldier stepped forward and placed a hand on the old man's shoulder. "We knew you would eventually come like a hero."

  Another soldier saluted and said, "For fifty years, you have carried all our memories. Today, your fight is over. What you have done just by being human was not even possible for an angel. You have conquered silence."

  A drop of water glistened in the corner of his eye. All those years of loneliness, the absence of those lost friends, vanished in an instant. They all stood around him, honoring him with an unearthly respect.

  Suddenly, the crowd of soldiers split into two. A bright glow emerged from across the mist. From the middle of that light, a woman was walking. Her face was calm, like a peaceful autumn afternoon.

  "My boy..."

  He stopped in his tracks. He had never forgotten this voice. His mother. The mother he had left for the war, the scent of whose saree he still searches for today. Mother reached out her hand to him.

  "You've fought a lot of battles. Now come home. I've made warm pitha for you," Mother said with a magical smile.

  The rusted soldier's badge fell from his hand. He was no longer a warrior now, only a little boy who wanted to return to his mother. He slowly took his mother’s hand.

  "Ma, I am very tired," he whispered.

  "I know, child. There's no more fear. Now, just rest," Mother embraced him.

  Mother and son, holding hands, began to disappear into that deep thick mist. The others also went to their families, and one of them said, "We will meet again." Then, from Nihilopolis, they went to a place and the mist covered them in an eternal peace, where there is no war, no separation—there is only eternal love.

  On the battlefield of Earth, the howling of the wind had turned into a demonic roar. When the results of everyone's sacrifice were turning gray, the ancient shadow—'Void Incarnation'—broke its imprisonment and came out. The magical walls created by the compass shattered into pieces. The shadow was no longer just darkness; it was like a living cosmic abyss, sucking in the surrounding light, sound, and existence.

  The shadow extended its demonic hand and rushed towards Ariyan. Ariyan was still standing stunned in the dilemma of his own existence. Just as the ice-cold touch of death was about to touch Ariyan’s chest, Nihira screamed—"Brother, no!"

  Without caring for her own life, Nihira jumped in front of Ariyan. Just as the shadow's claw-like hand was about to touch Nihira’s throat, time seemed to freeze. Dust particles in the air stood still, even the sparks of fire froze like ice, forgetting their burning.

  In the middle of the battlefield, an indescribable white light burst through the sky. There was no sound, but every atom of darkness trembled at the intensity of that light. From that cosmic silence, Niha appeared.

  With Niha's appearance, the ancient howling of the battlefield was silenced in an instant. The white glow emanating from her body was no ordinary light; it was the radiance of pure existence, capable of uncovering every dark corner of the universe. Nihira and Ariyan watched with wide eyes as the vibration of the wind stopped at every step of the Ethereal Primarch standing before them.

  The Void Incarnation, or that ancient shadow, began to shrink in an strange agony at Niha's presence. The darkness that was ready to swallow the whole earth just a moment ago was now trembling like a helpless animal before Niha. Niha took no weapon, uttered no mantra. She only walked slowly towards that massive darkness.

  When Niha's hand reached that pitch-black abyss, a miraculous scene was created. At the touch of Niha's fingers, the giant demonic shadow began to erode—as if ice was melting in the hot sun. The demonic roar of the shadow gradually turned into a pathetic cry and within a few moments, that cosmic darkness contracted into a small, pulsing black flame on Niha's palm.

  The entire earth was silent then. The blood-red clouds had moved away from the sky, and the sunlight had spread. Nihira asked in a low voice, "Did you destroy it?"

  Niha looked at the small darkness in her palm and smiled a magical but deeply sad smile. The reflection of billions of galaxies was in her eyes then. She replied calmly, "No Nihira, it shouldn't be destroyed. This darkness will no longer hurt anyone, but its existence is necessary."

  Ariyan staggered forward. Niha looked into Ariyan’s eyes and said, "Ariyan, what you were afraid of isn't just destruction. This darkness is the silent peace that is the last refuge of people drowning in all the sorrows of the earth. When someone loses themselves in the surrounding noise, when someone can no longer find a way in unbearable mental agony—this silence shields them. It is that 'Silent Peace' that calms a person from within, making them stand face to face with themselves."

  Niha released the small black flame into the air. She began to say again, "Just as excessive light blinds the eyes, excessive silence swallows a person. I have only freed it from its ancient violence and restored it to its true form. From now on, it is no longer a monster, but the key to the secret room deep within the human mind, where one can keep their tears and loneliness safe."

  The intense radiance of Niha's body gradually dimmed. She now reached out her hands to Ariyan and Nihira. "Your fight is over." Ariyan looked at the sky. There were no stars, no clouds—only an endless blue. He felt that the long-standing lamentation inside his mind was no more.

  The blood-red glow of the battlefield had been washed away and now a bit of sweet afternoon sunlight was playing there. The massive cracks that had formed in the ruins seemed to have been filled by some magical touch. The dusty wind was now fragrant with the smell of Spanish cherry flowers.

  Niha, having reduced the brightness of her white clothes, now looked much like an ordinary human, but the depth of the blue in her eyes had not yet faded. She began walking towards the edge of the battlefield. Her body seemed to be getting a bit transparent, as if she was going back.

  "I'm leaving, Ariyan," Niha said calmly without looking back. "Your world is safe now. There is no more darkness left here to fear."

  Ariyan rushed and blocked Niha's path. There was a strange panic in his eyes. The boy who was standing before a cosmic entity just a moment ago was now trembling like a helpless child.

  "Time to return? Where are you going?" Ariyan's voice broke. "I am still afraid of the darkness. You have stayed as light for so long and today you will leave. Please, don't go."

  Niha stopped. She looked into Ariyan’s eyes. There was more of a plea for shelter than bravery there. She was about to say something, just then Nihira sighed standing a bit away. Nihira saw this emotional moment between her brother and Niha. She felt that she had fulfilled her family responsibilities. Ariyan is not alone now.

  Nihira alighted her sword into its scabbard and began walking silently in the opposite direction. She thought, "Niha is in brother's life now. I am perhaps no longer needed here. This palace, this bloody inheritance—it's all meaningless today."

  But she couldn't even take three steps.

  Suddenly, Nihira felt a heavy jerk on her hair. Her head tilted back in pain. She saw with surprise that Ariyan was holding her by a handful of hair with one hand, and with the other hand, he was clutching Niha's hand.

  Ariyan looked at Nihira with furrowed brows. There was no fear in his eyes now, but a kind of annoying authority. "Where are you going? You showed quite a defeatist attitude! 'I am leaving, let everyone be happy'—who taught you this rubbish mindset?"

  Nihira, trying desperately to release her hair, said, "Brother, it hurts a lot! The roots of my hair are tearing! I was just trying to give you two some privacy..."

  "What do you mean by privacy? Do you think I'm making a romantic movie here?" Ariyan pulled the hair even harder, although there was a crooked smile on the corner of his lips. "Family means everyone staying together. You'll go to that palace to dust off the furniture, and I'll stay here being afraid with Niha? Impossible! You will stay right here. And I won't let go of your hair until you say you won't go anywhere."

  Nihira said with tears in her eyes, "Fine, fine! I won't go anywhere! Let go, it hurts a lot. I'll cry, I'm telling you."

  Niha was watching this sibling banter. A piece of a smile appeared on her lips too. She felt that as an Ethereal Primarch, although she had all the information of the universe, there is no 'database' for this strange human emotion and love.

  "Will you really stay?" Ariyan now softened his tone looking at Niha.

  Niha looked at the sky once, then at Ariyan. "Then if I stay, will you give me ice cream? And you've been holding my hand for a long time, let go a bit."

  Ariyan let go of her hand in embarrassment and said, "I'll give you whatever you want, just stay." Nihira kept crying on the other side. And she said, "Brother hurt my hair, Mother." Ariyan got busy again trying to calm Nihira down.