Stars Fall Like Rain
Even as the reversed sky lost herself in idle thoughts, Leviathan's onslaught pressed on relentlessly. Now, the sound of crashing waves echoed in her ears. No—it was actual waves, surging into existence around them. This was the work of a deity who ruled envy among the Seven Deadly Sins and commanded the abyssal depths. Naturally, these weren't ordinary waves. They could effortlessly swallow ordinary humans or lesser Constellations, absorbing even gods into their depths.
Facing this catastrophe head-on, Haneul finished her musings and abruptly spoke up. Her demeanor was utterly nonchalant, even with death bearing down on her from all sides.
"Hey, when and where did we first meet, anyway?"
"Insolent wretch. Trying to buy time, are you? Fine, I'll tell you. In Canaan—"
At those words, Haneul's face lit up with sudden relief, like a weight had been lifted from her chest.
"Ah! Right, we met in Canaan first. But molting? That feels like ancient history."
Amid the encroaching death from every direction, Haneul rummaged through the lake of memories in her mind. Then she clapped her hands with a delighted laugh.
"That's it! So after that, I rounded up generously and survived another 625 billion years to get here."
Darkness bloomed from Haneul's right hand—darker and deeper than the shadows Leviathan had conjured.
"Wanna just give up now and let me eat you?"
The moment Leviathan laid eyes on it, she sensed something had gone terribly wrong. The power radiating from it seemed far superior to her own.
Somehow, Haneul's words took on a chilling new weight.
"...W-what are you saying? Did you truly... endure that impossible eternity?"
"Yup."
"Absurd nonsense!!"
"I know, it sounds impossible to me too."
"Silence!!"
Leviathan bellowed to shake off her rising terror. It was a perfectly natural reaction. The Haneul she'd encountered back then had already been horrifyingly strong, grotesque, and terrifying. For that being to have survived such an unfathomable span of time? How much stronger must she be now?
No. This couldn't be. It defied all reason. If it were true, this world was already doomed. The dimension that other deities had hailed as their last hope was nothing more than putty in that monster's grasp.
"Are you babbling lies just to avoid death? Still as arrogant as ever! You think I'll fall for your silver tongue again like back then?!"
"Don't wanna believe it? Don't."
Haneul, of course, couldn't care less. Or rather, she had something she wanted to try, making Leviathan's disbelief irrelevant.
The world is vast, and gods are plentiful. Some powers suit them, others don't. Combining compatible powers amplifies their might—a simple, straightforward equation.
But mixing incompatible ones? No idea. She'd never tried. Even Haneul herself couldn't predict what might happen.
Until now, opportunity knocked. A space utterly severed from the outside world. A sturdy body standing right in front of her. Perfect conditions.
Haneul had no worries about her own survival. Back then, she'd held off out of concern that her world might shatter. But revealing her full might would kill her opponent outright, so she'd have to dial it back carefully...
"Dara-ran~ Dara-ran~ Dara-ran-dan~ Kung-jjak-jjak! Kung-jjak-jjak!"
Pure white light blazed brilliantly from her left hand, where it met her right. Left and right. Darkness and light. Black and white. Spenta Mainyu and Angra Mainyu.
Haneul stepped back sharply, forcibly mashing the two absolutely opposing forces together. Moments later, her eyes widened in surprise.
"Dara-ri-ra-ran... Sakura...! Huh? Uh? What's going on with this?"
The repulsion was far stronger than expected.
'Maybe more dangerous than I thought?'
Any sane person would stop there. But Haneul wasn't sane. She stubbornly forced them together, even drawing on her own power to make it stick.
Leviathan, charging forward while watching this, went slack-jawed in disbelief. "Don't wanna believe it? Don't," she'd said—then started humming to herself, conjured some creepy orb, got surprised by it... and kept right on forcing it into existence despite her shock.
"What... what is that? Why is it so unstable? Planning to kill yourself? Or take me down with you?"
"No clue!"
"You filthy vermin!! Even if you die, it has to be by my hand! Just as you devoured me, I'll consume you and steal your authority!"
Too busy to reply, Haneul hopped backward, tinkering away at the bizarre orb.
"Just stop it!"
"Can't do that!"
Finally, Haneul halted her retreat and asked,
Her orb had stabilized considerably.
"One last thing—wanna give up now and let me eat you?"
Leviathan nearly nodded without thinking. The moment those incompatible, alien auras touched, she'd sensed an indescribable presence from Haneul.
But she couldn't bring herself to bow her head. Leviathan too was a deity who'd existed since primordial times. Yielding to a mere mortal? Unthinkable.
"...Ridiculous drivel!"
"Sweet. You're in real trouble now."
"What are you—never mind. Do your worst! You'll die here anyway!"
Leviathan had long known Haneul wouldn't go down easily. That's why she'd prepared meticulously to deal with her. Now, she unleashed every tool at her disposal. The world compressed, and pitch-black chains erupted from the void. If she couldn't kill her, seal her until she could—eternity was on Leviathan's side. A thousand years, two thousand—it'd be a bargain if it meant slaying this monstrosity.
"It's over, you freak!!"
As the chains binding space and time rained down, Haneul completed her new technique. Or... was it even a technique? Calling it that felt generous.
"Eh, whatever."
Haneul tossed the unstable orb into the void. A refreshing chill washed over her, and she burst into giggles.
"Whoa, this is bad news even for me."
"...Huh? Wait—"
Sound vanished first. Then light and darkness were sucked away. Next, the half-dead Leviathan was devoured, Haneul's body whipped about, flung, spun, smashed, and buoyed up...
"Gaaah."
After that? No idea. The whole world just shattered.
*****
Five years since gates appeared and Constellations descended. The Constellations, who once communicated only through text, had placed their actual constellations in the night sky to draw closer to the world.
This birthed stargazers who observed them, and Constellations tied to "observation" began revealing themselves, claiming apostles. Those who called themselves Observers built observatories worldwide, gathering to monitor the heavens' changes as their profession.
Impressive in theory. In practice? Not much. They'd spot a new constellation, post it on news, papers, or NewTube to publicize it and gather faith. Mooching off national taxes for that made them envy magnets, dubbed "honey jobs."
And it was a honey job. But Celia Runeville, leader of the Observers, was always on edge—thanks to a prophecy from her Constellation, 'The Inevitable Lord Who Winds the Universe's Spring'.
After delivering it, her Constellation entered a deep slumber. But Celia never forgot. The prophecy foretold doom when the Constellations' stars churned wildly. Then, Observers must cautiously watch the falling, vanishing, erasing stars day and night, recording them to uncover hidden rules.
No telling when. And watching carefully while watching? Tricky. Still, Celia prepared without complaint. That day marked humanity's extinction's start—she couldn't relax.
Other Observers? Blissfully idle, sucking up global taxes.
"Why's the night sky so clear today?"
On duty today, Malek lounged in his rocker, chugging beer. Snack: Yakutsk's starry sky over Russia. Clearer and prettier than usual. Constellations shone brighter, delighting sky-loving Malek. If every night was like this, he'd volunteer daily.
"Ahh... the constellations..."
Mid-gulp, Malek's eyes bulged.
"Shooting stars! Whoa! How long's it been?!"
First time, actually. Pre-gates, he'd never seen one despite news reports.
"Whoa! Shooting stars raining down like—huh?"
Muttering to himself, Malek caught the oddity in his words.
"Shooting stars? Raining? Shooting stars?"
He was gazing at the night sky adorned with Constellations' stars. For those stars to fall as shooting stars...
"Uh, u-uhhh... this ain't right..."
Finally, Malek realized something was very wrong. The true Mountain Hermit's constellation led the charge, others plummeting like a downpour.