Blowing Up the Fish Pond (1)

Centuries ago, the concept of the multiverse had already become common knowledge.

We exist within a material universe, where abstract entities like spirits and souls require a material anchor for stable existence.

This defines the very limits of human activity.

Beyond this material realm lies a parallel universe known as the “Subspace.”

It functions as a distorted reflection of our own, brimming with amorphous energies and beings composed entirely of energy.

This, of course, is a common trope in countless novels, remaining relevant from medieval fantasies to the grim darkness of 40K.

One need only acknowledge its existence; the Subspace poses no threat unless actively sought out.

However, the “Imaginary Sea” is an entirely different matter.

Existing independently of both the material universe and the Subspace, extensive research suggests the Imaginary Sea is the true origin of the concepts of ‘Heaven’ and ‘Hell.’

It is the destination for existence once it has been erased, the ultimate end of all things, where even the notions of time and space blur into indistinctness.

The overlap between the Imaginary Sea, the material world, and the Subspace is known as the “Abyss.”

Its unique positioning places it in a precarious rift between matter and spirit, existence and nothingness.

The Abyss teems with darkness and distortion, giving birth to countless perilous abyssal creatures and harboring endless hidden dangers.

The deepest reaches of the Abyss connect directly to the Imaginary Sea.

It is rumored that a year ago, the Second Apostle, Van Astarte, fell victim to a demonic scheme, plunging into the Abyss and completely losing contact near the Imaginary Sea.

The Sandra Abyss is one such chasm within the material world.

Though not vast in scale, the abyssal creatures lurking within possess an alarmingly high level of danger, capable of unleashing catastrophic disasters at any moment.

Within Sandra City, mercenaries and the army operate with clear divisions of labor.

The military primarily safeguards the city, while mercenaries venture into the shallower parts of the Abyss to neutralize threats and conduct explorations.

Despite its perils, the Abyss is also rich with opportunities, containing a wealth of resources and materials unlike anything found in the material world.

It is both a ticking time bomb and an inexhaustible treasure trove.

And this is precisely where I intend to delve tonight.

In days gone by, a defining characteristic of the Ninth Apostle was their ‘casualness.’

They never bothered with special equipment for missions, nor did they seek any grand spectacle, often heading into battle clad in the most ordinary casual wear.

Now, however—

“…Have I taken ‘casual’ too far? Should I perhaps change?”

I stood atop the central clock tower of Sandra City, scrutinizing my attire under the beam of a searchlight.

A flamboyant pajama top (limited edition NijiGaku Idol Club merchandise).

Equally flamboyant pajama bottoms (Idolmaster x Spicy Potato collaboration merchandise).

A small, green pointed nightcap (official Link’s Awakening merchandise).

Cotton slippers (emblazoned with the God of War 4 logo).

Blast it all, by any measure, I looked like an ardent idol fan and a hardcore gamer.

I should have changed before getting out of bed.

Should I go back and change?

No, too much effort.

Besides, since I’d spontaneously climbed this clock tower, why not seize the moonlit moment to try out that classic line?

“I am vengeance, I am the night, I am Batman!”

…

…

…

‘Oh, mother of gods, that was mortifying.’

“Never mind… I’ll just turn invisible first.”

I snapped my fingers, and the intricate patterns of chains materialized on my fingertips.

For a moment, I commanded the light, air, and heat within a ten-meter radius centered on myself.

From this instant, light could not delineate my form, nor could any reflective surface betray my presence.

My voice would not transmit through the air, and even my body heat became undetectable.

The Sandra Abyss lay to the south.

It was a quarter past midnight; I had just over five hours.

A swift resolution was in order!

With that thought, I commanded the wind element.

Propelled by its force, I sped southward, effortlessly bypassing the surveillance systems and slipping through the South Gate, which was guarded by the mercenary guild.

Beyond the South Gate stretched a wide avenue, flanked by numerous defensive fortifications and railway tracks designed for transporting heavy cargo.

Even in the dead of night, mercenaries traversed the path, as abyssal creatures paid no heed to the hour.

As I avoided the bio-activity detectors, I observed my surroundings.

Several bunkers along the road had sustained damage, railway tracks lay severed, and a positron rifle and a magic-tech cannon, each as massive as a train engine, showed varying degrees of destruction.

‘Tsk, tsk, it seems quite serious indeed…’

I circled around the passing mercenaries and soldiers, easily surmounting the multiple defensive lines established against abyssal creatures, until I finally reached the entrance to the Sandra Abyss.

Before me lay a colossal pit, over two kilometers in diameter, pulsating with an eerie, inky-blue luminescence.

It appeared like a scar gouged into the very earth.

Wisps of black mist rose from the colossal pit, while the darkness at its edges writhed like tentacles.

Blue-black liquid overflowed from the rim, seeping into the surrounding rock and soil.

It was said that a vast forest once stood here, but it had vanished entirely, consumed by the Abyss’s pervasive erosion.

The outer perimeter of the Abyss was fortified with multiple layers of protective walls.

One hundred meters above, a silvery, bowl-shaped light membrane shimmered—the “Grand Sandra Seal.”

This seal, constructed under the supervision of the former Sixth Apostle, served not only as a formidable barrier against the Abyss but also as an exceptionally sensitive early warning system.

Yet, to my knowledge, the Grand Sandra Seal’s primary function was to defend against “the impact of large numbers of abyssal beasts.”

In the few weaker points of the seal, some relatively weaker abyssal beasts would invariably slip through, much like how a shark net fails to stop a yellow croaker.

I, too, chose one of these vulnerable spots.

As neither a mercenary nor a soldier, I naturally couldn’t use the designated passages for entering and exiting the Abyss.

I needed an alternative route.

The gap in the protective wall, southeast of the Abyss entrance… if my memory served, this was it.

I lightly touched the light membrane of the Grand Seal.

The silvery glow momentarily dissolved, only to reform once I had passed through.

You might ask why I was so adept at this?

Nonsense.

One of the odd jobs I once undertook was single-handedly repairing this damned Grand Sandra Seal.

In an unassuming inn in the eastern part of Sandra City—

A bald man sat beneath a dim electric light, holding a dinner knife he’d used earlier.

With it, he carved wound after wound into his arm.

Each gash was deep enough to expose bone, yet almost immediately, they would slowly heal at a visible rate.

The man continued this chilling cycle, self-mutilating and regenerating, over and over.

“Hey, Paris~? We’re back.”

At that moment, the room door opened, admitting a man and a woman.

The man was pale-skinned, casually dressed, and utterly nondescript, the kind one would lose in any crowd.

The woman, however, possessed a remarkably formidable build; her arms were as thick as her thighs, and her face seemed sculpted into a permanent uppercut.

“Justin, An Meng, you’ve returned… What’s the situation outside?”

“As of tonight, there are no signs of the beast tide subsiding,” replied the burly woman named An Meng, her voice surprisingly sweet, a stark contrast to her imposing appearance.

“Which means… the Subspace rift is indeed slowly forming, correct?”

“Yes, at this rate, it will become active within a week,” answered the man named Justin.

He, unlike An Meng, presented no such contrast; his voice was as unremarkable as his appearance.

“Good, good, good… This is excellent… When that time comes…”

Paris pulled a gem, suffused with a soft, ethereal glow, from his pocket and clutched it tightly in his hand.

“…I will wield the power of the Subspace demons… then I will hunt down the so-called Ninth Apostle… and avenge my brother! The Apostles’ doom is at hand!” he declared, a look of grim determination settling on his face.