Marianne reacted first.

  The Witch flinched visibly, her gaze snapping around the room in instinctive alarm. It took her a second longer to realize that the voice had not come from any physical presence nearby. Her eyes slowly drifted back toward Darren, narrowing as she studied him carefully.

  “Is that…” she began, the words trailing away before they fully formed.

  Her attention dropped to the faint glow beneath Darren’s tunic.

  Even through the cloth, the crystal embedded within his chest emitted a subtle, steady radiance—soft pulses of light that shimmered like distant lightning trapped beneath the surface. Marianne stared at it for a long moment before looking back up at him, a mixture of surprise and fascination written clearly across her face.

  Darren himself was still processing what had just happened.

  Merlyn had spoken.

  And his System had spoken out loud.

  “Again, I am terribly sorry for interrupting,” Merlyn continued politely, its voice sounding almost courteous in a way that felt oddly human. “But the Update for Earth has been completed, Darren. With this in mind, I do think that I may be able to be of great use when it comes to learning more about this Inferior System named…Loki."

  Darren blinked once.

  Most of his attention until that moment had been fixed entirely on Marianne and the troubling conversation they had been having; Merlyn undergoing an update had barely registered in his thoughts. With its installtion complete, the difference was made obvious almost immediately because this new speech of Merlyn's might very well have been part of the upgrade.

  Darren rubbed the back of his neck briefly, exhaling through his nose as he adjusted to the strange development. Of all the surprises he had expected today, hearing Merlyn’s voice echo through the room had certainly not been one of them.

  “Go on then,” He said after a moment, giving a small nod of approval.

  If Merlyn believed it could help, he had no reason to refuse.

  “Please turn your attention to the Holy Blade of Thunder,” Merlyn instructed calmly. “The sword that once belonged to Humanity’s Strongest Jaegar.”

  Both Darren and Marianne instinctively followed suit.

  Their gazes shifted toward the table where the weapon had been laid out. The blade rested there quietly, its polished metal reflecting the dim light of the room. Despite its stillness, the sword carried a strong presence, as though the weapon itself remembered the countless battles it had seen. Despite its masterful craftsmanship that Darren would never stop admiring, what truly caught the eye was the crystal embedded into the hilt. It shimmered faintly, a pale glow pulsing beneath its smooth surface.

  “I had my suspicions earlier,” Merlyn continued, “but with this new Update fully installed, I can now confirm that the crystal embedded within that sword’s hilt is emanating signatures of energy that are remarkably similar to my own.”

  Darren’s eyes narrowed immediately. Marianne inhaled sharply beside him.

  The room suddenly felt a great deal quieter.

  “What are you saying here?” Darren asked slowly, his gaze never leaving the crystal.

  Merlyn responded without hesitation.

  “Well, as you know, I am what you would call a System,” it explained. “I am machine constructed from millions upon millions of complex and intricate runic arrangements, all of it stored within a Core, like the one now stuck in your chest.”

  A Core.

  So that was what they called the crystalline structure that Death had plunged into his being.

  “These runic arrangements, when put together in a very specific manner, allow me to harness Mana itself,” Merlyn continued, “the fundamental force of nature that exists behind all magic as we understand it.”

  Darren listened carefully.

  The words carried a matter-of-fact clarity, as if Merlyn were describing the mechanics of a simple everyday tool; almost downplaying the vast power that it was actually capable of wielding. Even after everything he had experienced, hearing Merlyn explain its own existence in such direct terms was strangely surreal.

  “This is why,” the System went on, its tone still analytical as ever, “through me, growth without end becomes possible for you, Darren.”

  The faint glow beneath Darren’s chest pulsed again.

  His gaze drifted toward Marianne.

  The Wicked Witch stood across from him with her arms loosely folded. Unlike Darren, who was still piecing together the implications of Merlyn’s explanation, Marianne did not look confused in the slightest. If anything, there was a quiet understanding in her eyes, a calm awareness that suggested the information Merlyn had revealed was not entirely unfamiliar to her.

  Darren noticed it immediately, and the realization made him pause.

  She already knew everything that Merlyn was telling them now. Or at the very least, she understood far more than he did.

  Darren, despite his brilliance with the mystic arts, found himself frowning slightly as he tried to wrap his mind around what Merlyn had just explained. The mystic arts, knowing how to wield them in battle, those were things he could grasp instinctively. But Systems, crystalline Cores and their machinations—all of those things were beyond his expertise.

  His attention shifted back to the weapon resting on the table.

  The Holy Blade of Thunder lay there silently, the blue crystal in its hilt glowing faintly in the dim light. It looked like any other enchanted weapon at first glance, yet the more Darren stared at it, the more he felt that subtle hum of power radiating from it.

  “What does this have to do with the sword?” he finally asked.

  Merlyn answered immediately, patient as ever.

  “As I have stated earlier, Systems like me are stored Cores,” it explained. “They are crystalline structures, similar to the one that is embedded in the sword set before you now.”

  Darren’s eyes shifted again to the crystal in the hilt.

  Merlyn continued before he could speak again.

  “However, considering that this Inferior System is being distributed across an entire planet externally, it is highly unlikely that this is Loki’s true core considering its miniature size.”

  The words hung in the air for a moment.

  “It is far more probable,” Merlyn added, “that this crystal is merely an extension—one designed to solidify Loki’s influence over Earth and its inhabitants.”

  Darren blinked slowly.

  His mind worked quickly, trying to organize the information, but the expression on his face made it clear that Merlyn’s explanation had not fully landed. Despite his incredible talent when it came to magic, this particular subject clearly was simply not clicking.

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  Marianne noticed immediately.

  She let out a quiet sigh.

  “Summarize this in the simplest terms possible,” she said flatly.

  Merlyn paused for the briefest moment, as if recalculating how best to present the information.

  “More information about Loki may exist within the crystal embedded in the sword,” the System replied concisely. “However, I will require both of your assistance in order to uncover it.”

  Darren’s ears perked up slightly.

  That explanation, at least, he understood perfectly.

  A faint flush of embarrassment crept across his face as he realized Marianne had needed to simplify things for him. He cleared his throat quietly before giving a small nod.

  That much was simple enough.

  If the crystal contained information about Loki, then examining it was the obvious next step.

  “Would you like me to proceed?” Merlyn asked.

  Darren did not answer immediately.

  Instead, he turned his head towards the Witch again, silently leaving the decision to her. Despite not knowing what its true intentions were, Marianne knew Earth's System better than he did.

  If anyone should make this call, it was the Wicked Witch of Humanity.

  Marianne pursed her lips thoughtfully.

  Her gaze turned toward the table, settling on the blue crystal embedded within the Holy Blade of Thunder. The glow reflecting in her eyes carried a strange familiarity, as if it stirred memories she could not fully grasp.

  Fragments of the past lingered at the edges of her mind.

  When Darren had first found her aboard the Ferry of the Dead, she had been frozen in time—literally encased in ice. A relic from another era, quite like himself, preserved in silence while the world continued to move forward without her.

  Just like Darren, the world she had once known no longer existed in the same way.

  Too much had changed.

  Too much had been rewritten.

  And now, standing here, staring at the crystal within the sword, Marianne understood something very clearly.

  She needed answers, maybe just as much as Darren did.

  After a moment, she gave a small, firm nod.

  “Do it.”

  Darren watched her for a second longer before turning his attention forward again. Once he saw her confirmation, his own hesitation disappeared.

  “Proceed,” Darren ordered.

  The change came without warning.

  One moment Darren was still sitting on the floor, the Holy Blade of Thunder resting quietly on the table before them. The next, the world twisted violently around him. His vision warped as though reality itself had been pulled and stretched. The room vanished into a blur of motion and light, and Darren instinctively stood before staggering half a step before catching his balance. A strange pressure settled over his senses, like the moment just before a powerful spell completed its casting.

  Beside him, Marianne reacted instantly.

  Her hand shot forward, grasping Darren’s wrist with surprising urgency.

  Darren tightened his grip around her hand in return, both of them anchoring themselves to each other as darkness flooded their vision. The world dissolved into a void so complete that for a moment he wondered if they had lost their sight entirely.

  Then the darkness began to change.

  Shapes emerged.

  Not solid objects or recognizable forms, but symbols—countless symbols flooding into existence around them. They resembled a mixture of numbers and letters, strange markings that Darren could not begin to understand.

  They streamed past them in endless waves, moving so quickly that the motion resembled a raging current of glowing script. Lines of symbols layered over one another in complex formations, flickering and rearranging themselves faster than Darren’s mind could process.

  To him, it was incomprehensible chaos.

  But Marianne gasped.

  Because she understood exactly what she was seeing.

  “Those are…” she breathed.

  The realization struck her immediately.

  What surrounded them was not meaningless text. These were runes—pure runic structures unfolding in real time. They weren’t written in ink or etched into stone the way mages normally used them. Instead, they existed as living arrangements of magical language, constantly shifting and recombining with impossible precision.

  Marianne’s eyes widened slightly as she watched them move.

  “Your System…” she whispered.

  Her gaze darted across the streams of runes racing past them at blinding speed. Even with her unparalleled understanding of magical language, it was difficult to follow their movements. They were forming vast chains of logic, intricate patterns of runic commands that intertwined with one another like the threads of an impossibly complex tapestry.

  Even she—the Wicked Witch of Humanity, a woman whose mastery of magic bordered on the divine—felt a flicker of awe.

  The arrangements unfolding before her eyes were breathtaking.

  It was like watching a symphony composed entirely of magic.

  Golden light ignited into existence, collided with others, split apart, and reformed into new structures that altered the very environment surrounding them. The invisible laws of the world twisted and reassembled themselves as the system manipulated reality with flawless precision.

  Marianne followed the runic flow with rapt attention, her sharp eyes tracking the cascading patterns as they built toward something greater.

  Beside her, Darren stared at the spectacle in open wonder.

  He didn’t understand the runes the way she did.

  To him, the symbols meant nothing.

  But the effects of their power were as clear as the light that seemed to emanate from them.

  That same golden light burst around them in brilliant flashes, each eruption illuminating the darkness for an instant before dissolving again into the endless current of glowing script. It felt like standing inside a storm of magic itself.

  Darren watched the explosions of golden radiance with wide eyes.

  “It’s making…a simulation,” Marianne finally said.

  The pieces had fallen into place.

  The runic structures weren’t simply processing information—they were constructing an environment. A controlled space where Merlyn could manipulate reality freely, unhindered by the physical world outside.

  Just as the realization formed fully in her mind—

  Snap.

  The sharp sound of fingers snapping echoed through the void.

  In an instant, everything changed.

  The rushing symbols vanished and the golden explosions of light disappeared.

  Suddenly, Darren and Marianne found themselves standing in a vast white expanse. It stretched endlessly in every direction, an empty horizon of pure white that seemed to have no boundaries, no sky, and no ground beyond the surface beneath their feet.

  For a brief moment, neither of them spoke.

  “You are absolutely right.” The voice broke the silence.

  Darren turned immediately.

  Even though the voice was familiar, instinct kicked in before thought could follow. His hand moved automatically, energy stirring within him as he prepared to call upon his Divinity if necessary.

  Because something about the voice had changed.

  He had heard it countless times before.

  He had even just heard it speak aloud from the Core embedded in his own chest.

  But never like this.

  Behind them stood a man.

  He looked almost ordinary at first glance, yet there was something undeniably striking about him. His hair was a radiant blonde, catching the endless white light of the space around them. His eyes shone even brighter—liquid gold, glowing faintly like the runes they had just witnessed moments ago.

  There was intelligence in that gaze.

  The man smiled warmly at Darren, as though greeting an old companion.

  Recognition struck Darren instantly.

  The realization landed so suddenly that he froze for half a second.

  There was no mistaking it.

  This man…

  This presence…

  It was the same consciousness that had guided him since the beginning.

  Darren slowly lowered his hand as understanding dawned.

  Standing before him now, in human form, was none other than his own System.

  Merlyn’s golden eyes gleamed with quiet amusement as he clasped his hands loosely behind his back.

  “Well then,” he said with a pleasant smile. “Let’s get to work, shall we?”