Someone's Beacon (2)
"Ah."
When I came back to my senses, I felt a sensation similar to waking up in the hospital after getting wrecked on Layer 150. As long as I'm alive, that's what matters. The upper layers have healers who can mend even serious injuries in an instant anyway. So I didn't bother getting up right away and logged straight into Fate Road.
I figured I'd spend the next few days after the Continuous Bloodbath ended lounging around, catching up on the community anyway.
Satisfying.
As expected, the gallery was in full festival mode, just like I'd imagined. Even after a storm had already swept through once while I was out cold for two days, the heat hadn't died down—the posts kept pouring in, and the comments flew thick and fast.
I scrolled way past the last page I'd seen and slowly read through the worthwhile posts. They'd captured photos and videos of me taking down enemies, posted them up, and were marveling or giving feedback in their own ways—enjoying it all.
And I was doing the exact same thing.
Embarrassing as it is to admit, I got a kick out of peeking at the versions of myself they'd uploaded and the reactions they sparked. What they call "lurking your own fan content."
Honestly, I figured I deserved to feel proud. Especially that moment at Stage 125, where I made the call against the tough opponent Ulbaruk and actually fought. Revisiting my actions like that, plus hearing the constellations' feedback in the comments? Double win.
In the process, I could see why, out of countless challengers, they'd chosen to cheer for me. All that struggling to catch up to Jeong Chan-su and survive this insane world—it hadn't been for nothing.
And there were people who actually liked it, rooting for me.
Everyone fears treading unknown paths. I was no different. But with so many lighting the way ahead, that was enough for me now.
...Not everyone, obviously. Anyway.
I was browsing the gallery in a pretty light mood when a mention of the Layer 125 reward caught my eye. One of the prizes—and the one I'd aimed for by cracking the top 5 in the tower.
Star's Origin (S): An imprint imbued with stellar power. One who engraves it into their soul can later draw forth fragments of that star's might.
Star's Origin is an S-grade imprint on par with inventory space. The description sounds vague at first glance, but I already knew what it was, how to use it, and the power and meaning embedded within. It was one of the key elements that showed up in the story.
That's when a fresh post popped up with the latest news. I checked it out and ended up squeezing my eyes shut without thinking.
While I'd pushed past the previous record by 10 stages to barely hit 125 and been out for two days, Jeong Chan-su had kept fighting nonstop and crossed 135.
The futures we regressor and possessor knew had been shattered by us long ago, but this was still fast. Stage 135 in Continuous Bloodbath when we're barely at 150? I'd felt it myself, but from 120 onward, every single stage was a devilish wall.
I thought I'd closed the gap, but he was still 10 stages ahead.
The meaning behind "Continuous Bloodbath Stage 135" wasn't just the number. Even in our gallery, where opinions on Jeong Chan-su weren't great, it stirred things up big time.
Me and the commenters held our breath watching the video. There was Jeong Chan-su, battered to hell, finally claiming the Stage 135 reward.
Star's Origin, Star's Fate. The two act as key and lock. These two imprints, obtainable only through special rewards, fuse into one to reveal the path of fate to the recipient—the fragment of divinity awaiting the challenger who reaches the tower's peak.
To witness this with my own eyes...
A colossal storm blanketed sky and earth, splitting in half amid earth-shattering lightning to reveal a sun like a piercing eye. Jeong Chan-su floated in the air, backlit by it.
The sovereign who never bowed to anyone or anything since entering the tower. The one undefeated against countless foes. A king in the truest sense.
The divinity of the Emperor Odin, standing at the end—earned by piercing those hellish conditions. That was the fate he'd chosen for himself.
Someday, me too...
It was the protagonist's awakening moment from the story. A normal reaction would be chills of hype, overwhelmed by that transcendent sight. But separately, a weight settled in one corner of my heart.
The comments, though, were the opposite of mine. Maybe because they were already constellations with divinities from their own worlds, most reactions were meh.
Makes sense. In this tower, Jeong Chan-su looks unstoppable now, but once he climbs out, he's just one of the countless on Fate Road. Suddenly, I felt calm too.
Whoa, doesn't suit him at all.
Jeong Chan-su posting weird stuff on the community while acting like that? Couldn't picture it.
Naturally, speculation about my awakening started bubbling up in the gallery. The Star series was something I'd vowed to claim from the moment I possessed this body, but while I knew Jeong Chan-su's future crystal clear, mine was a blank.
I do know a few conditions, though...
Divinities have hidden conditions unknown to anyone. The story only detailed them for the protagonist Jeong Chan-su and a tiny handful of others. So I couldn't pick like he did.
I was just banking on finishing the Star series however I could, and it'd hand me one automatically.
"Whew, good times."
Losing myself in the community like this wrecked my sense of time, but I could gauge it from the influx of posts. After hunkering down for hours checking them out, I prepped to log off.
Jeong Chan-su's awakening—solid motivation. Our next Layer 150 raid had a real shot at success now. Thanks to the returning Continuous Bloodbath cycle, not just me but everyone seemed way stronger.
"???"
A notification pinged right then. A private message—disabled for regular users, only admins could send them. My heart dropped.
If I were a squeaky-clean regular, it wouldn't faze me this much.
The sudden one-on-one chat with Serpina left me reeling. Her usual stern, formal tone mixed with chaotic internet slang—did she really talk like that? Or was it just glitching weirdly for me?
She was chill as ever. Good thing it was text chat—given my trash acting skills, voice would've blown my cover instantly.
'Fuck, did she figure me out?'
But the next message hit, and my already pounding heart flatlined. Or maybe the whole world stopped—time, thoughts, everything.
Frozen, I didn't reply, so Serpina hammered out follow-ups in a rush. I'd panicked thinking my cover was blown, but "admin" terrified me too. Admins had a shitty rep.
Even in the constellation fan gallery, when Serpina announced recruiting one, users had scattered like roaches. Constellations or not, they just wanted light fun—no unpaid slave grind fighting trolls.
Serpina and Perbas probably toughed it out as my contract constellations.
"Not unpaid slaves?!"
She smacked me upside the head again.
The constellation world shocked me more the deeper I dug. But Serpina's pitch wasn't over.
To keep me pinned down—that was her frank intent. Admins can't easily jump galleries.
And the root reason she went this far? Ultimately, for the me she watched over. Bigger fandom, more firepower—to support me better.
...Picked a good one.
I'd known since first peeking at the gallery, but my lips curved up anyway. Reaching out to her myself? Still the best call I'd made.