Inside the Distorted Revenge (2)

It was a familiar sight.
It was so similar to my own past that I wondered if Distorted Revenge had reconstructed it based on my memories.
An old king came out and spoke.
With eight wings, he held a crown and scepter made of extravagant gold and jewels and sentenced him as if nothing was out of the ordinary.
“I sentence you to death.”
The former young king is executed by the old, new king.
The guillotine blade fell, and there was no miracle.
The head rolled on the floor.
Blood flowed.
It flowed from the neck, from the body, it flowed…
…and it didn’t stop.
“…Huh?”
“What, what’s happening?”
The blood overflowed the execution ground, pouring down like a waterfall, pooling, and spilling over.
“What is this filth….”
It flowed and flowed, creating a pond, and reached the feet of the people watching from the closest distance.

“I was devoted.”

A youthful voice was heard.

“I devoted my short life, grinding my flesh, my blood, my heart, my bones until not even a handful remained.”

The head, now separated from the body and no longer needing to breathe, spoke without even a breath.

“They cut my flesh, my breath, my life, and betrayed me, so what could be more tragic than this.”
“I lived my entire life that way, and though it may be called a short life, it was a sorrowful period in which a human could die ninety-three times.”
“Yet the winged ones betray me, covet power, frame me, and rejoice in my death, so I wonder what makes them different from demons.”
“I am skeptical.”
“I am in despair.”
“I am disappointed.”

The pooled blood turned black, then began to take on a metallic quality.
It shone like metal before slowly hardening and turning gold.
No, not the ‘color’ gold.
It was ‘gold’.
The new king and the others who had stepped back, calling it filthy, saw it, and their eyes gleamed with greed.
“Does it turn to gold after a certain amount of time?”
“It speaks ill omens, but it has its uses.”
Killed by greed, and used by greed even in death.
The platter holding the head of the former young king, Spesha, was lifted carefully as if it were something sacred.
“Gold shall be endless for us.”
At the new king’s declaration, the winged ones cheered.
It was an absurd cheer, perhaps thinking that since there was so much gold, some would naturally fall to them.
They are the celestial race, known to humans as the most sacred.
They have more than two wings and are known as a symbol of nobility.
Yet, blinded by gold, they cheered and rushed to the place where blood had hardened into gold.
When one young celestial rushed forward, the adults began to follow.

“I never commanded you to be merciful, so this is solely a result of your own making.”
“Though I could have become the greatest being in the starry heavens, I chose not to, but I know not where to release this anger, this resentment, this desire for revenge.”
“I shall become the greatest being at a young age, embrace you and embrace you until I can love you no more, and bury you in a sea of blood.”

The crowd pushed people aside.
The many winged beings in the sky, the winged beings on the ground watching the execution, all mixed in a chaotic frenzy towards the gold.

“This is instinct, and it shall become my nature.”

This was madness.
Those who first felt greed reflexively touched the gold.
A subtle wave flowed between them, and soon they laughed as if they had lost their minds and rushed at the blood that had turned to gold.
I saw it.
Starlight, which only a Constellation can use, was leaking from the severed neck, controlling all these living creatures.
‘It doesn’t work on me, but…’
At that moment, the severed neck’s gaze locked precisely onto me.

“Oh my, an uninvited guest.”
“Well, that’s fine.”
“You too will know, this pressing world that does not end with one time will repeat again.”
“Repeat.”
“Repeat.”
“Continuously repeat.”
“It will become my starlight.”

And with that.
“Huh?”
The fingertips of the angels who rushed for the gold began to turn into gold.
“What, what is this, what…!”
“Mom! My fingertips have gotten hard! They’re getting bigger!”
“What is this!”
“Kyaaaaaak!”
Questions and screams erupted from everywhere.
Since almost everyone had touched the blood-turned-gold, I was the only one standing pristine.
I met the severed neck’s eyes.
“What are you trying to show me?”

“I wanted to show you that I am justified.”
“At the same time, I wanted to let you know why I was so enraged by your deception, lies, and games.”
“And also, I wanted to confess this to someone.”
“Is not the birth of a Constellation an intimate story?”

The severed neck, Distorted Revenge, The Crow’s Ruins, Spesha.
It knew that this world was not real.
Considering it was ‘Revenge’…
It would probably repeat this scene infinitely until its birth.
So that it would not forget its origins.
‘But this isn’t a point where I should feel sorry or pity for it.’
Salvation, or saving others.
They are truly good deeds and good words.
But they only function when the savior has the luxury to do so, and right now, I have no such luxury.
I have the right to gift a future to my contractor and my home, and that’s why I came here. I’m not a warm-hearted person who would develop affection so late in the game.
Showing me the past now changes nothing.
‘And that guy sold his origin to the Tilted Nebula instead of repenting.’
At that point, there was nothing I could do to help.

“I did not call you here for salvation, for I am satisfied with this.”
“I said I wanted to confess an intimate story to someone.”
“I am truly satisfied with just that.”

What a joke.
If it were satisfied with this, there would be no reason to create golden angels.
Right now, the limbs of the celestials who had touched the gold, blinded by greed, were turning to gold.
Tears flowed as gold.
Everyone screamed in terror.
“Save me!”

[The Crow’s Ruins was originally a great king.]

As if telling an old tale, the Administrator’s message appeared.

[He devoted himself at a young age and cultivated the celestial race into the greatest of all races.]
[However, he was framed by his old cousin who coveted that power and honor, and his throne was usurped.]

It was a brief summary of what happened before The Crow’s Ruins ascended.

[If he had died then, he would have become a Constellation and a merciful, devoted star.]
[But he refused that and made a contract with the System.]
[This was done without the Administrator’s will.]

Hmm…. a single excuse came out, but I decided to let it slide.

[In exchange for lowering his rank by one step, he gained a power.]
[The blood of gold turned to greed and covered the celestial race, which had been the greatest.]

The result was the same as what I was seeing.
“…….”
Not a single sound could be heard.
Not the crazed shouts that so easily called for death, nor the voices begging for life.
Nothing is heard.
All that can be seen are sculptures of angels made of pure gold.

“Reach me.”

[This is the reason why the symbol of peace, who had the most brilliant wings, came to be associated with the epithet of a corpse-eating crow.]

“Reach me.”

[He turned the kingdom he built into ruins.]

“Reach me.”

[Epithets do not lie.]

The Administrator’s message window looked at the same place I did.
At the young face rolling its eyes on the platter, which was placed on the last hand of a king made of gold, on a platter flowing with the blood of gold.

“Reach me and everything will be resolved.”
“Reach me and everything will return to its original order.”
“Reach me.”
“What you want is here.”
“I do not want the future.”

It meant that if I wanted a future, I should kill it.
And naturally, there was no reason to refuse.

[You just need to get past the golden angels.]
[You just need to get past the execution platform.]
[You just need to get past the king’s greed.]
[The Administrator is with you.]

The wings attached to my back as if for camouflage turned into light and fell away.
With a much lighter body, I took my first step.
Simultaneously, all the golden angels turned their stiff heads to look at me.

• Not kin.

• Not one of us.

• It is wicked.

• It is lacking.

• It should not be among us.

• Ah ah ah ah ah ah…

The beings, having lost their egos and left with only instinct, moved slowly.
Gold dust fell as their joints scraped together.
Their hardened bodies couldn’t move properly, resembling zombies.
If only instinct remained, then instinct was as good as life itself.
There was an easy way to get past them, but that didn’t mean it was entirely easy.
“Kill your instincts.”
To the Word of Power I uttered as a test, the golden angels replied.

• Only through death will we do so.