Date: February 2, 2511 Time: Early Morning

  "Where am I?"

  Jack found himself suspended in the midst of a colossal vortex. Below the center of the swirl, a singularity akin to a black hole was pulling at his body with terrifying force.

  He looked around wildly. He saw a woman, about thirty years old, heavily pregnant. Next to her stood a chubby, fair-skinned man, pressing his face blissfully against her belly, as if whispering to the life inside.

  Then, the scene shifted. A chubby white baby was crawling rapidly across the floor, gurgling with laughter. A woman stood behind him, watching over him with a gentle smile.

  Jack looked up, and another image flashed before his eyes. A mothership in dark space was struck by heavy fire. Crew members were being sucked out into the void. A woman in a sky-blue military uniform drifted past him, her eyes empty and lifeless.

  Jack’s breathing grew ragged. He desperately wanted to reach out, to grab her, to save her. But as he extended his hand, the scene warped again. He saw himself and a black spherical object in a dark space, staring up at a 100-meter-tall crystal mountain. The small black sphere danced up and down in front of him, seeming to speak.

  Looking down, he saw an old man with white hair watching two ships departing into the distance—one battered and covered in patch repairs, the other silver and sleek. With a flash of light, both ships vanished into the depths of the star ocean.

  Just then, a massive gravitational force sucked Jack into the central black hole. Tumbling violently, he was spat out again, but this time, he was surrounded by countless different vortices.

  In one, he saw a fat man drinking with a crowd in a tavern. The scene spun, and the fat man walked into a pitch-black underground catacomb with a group of people. Suddenly, a fiery red phoenix burst from the ground, and that version of himself was screaming as he was sucked into a black hole and vanished.

  Sweat already drenched Jack's forehead. He struggled frantically, trying to grab onto something.

  Looking up again, he saw another version of himself handing out flyers at the gate of a dilapidated amusement park, with a cute little girl following behind him. In a flicker, a woman in a wedding dress stood before him. Her skin was pale, her eyes closed. Suddenly, her eyes snapped open, staring right at him. Her pupils were entirely white—lifeless, yet giving him an inexplicable sense of intimacy. Then, she floated off the ground, drifting towards him.

  The fat man was scared out of his wits. He tried desperately to escape, but everywhere he looked, there were only vortices.

  Then, he watched as the vortex containing the woman seemed to merge with another vortex, and she faded away.

  Countless Jacks, in countless places, facing countless people.

  Finally, all these vortices condensed into a glowing sphere, and he was inside it. The sphere erupted with immense energy, extending a bridge across the void. Involuntarily, Jack walked onto this bridge. At the other end, it connected to a massive, dark, lifeless sphere.

  In this dead void, apart from his own illuminated sphere, as far as the eye could see, there were only silent, black spheres.

  At that moment, a voice exploded directly in his mind—void of emotion, yet containing everything:

  "You are here."

  "Ah—!"

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  Jack bolted upright in bed, gasping for air. Cold sweat poured down his face, soaking the back of his pajamas.

  Still shaken, he touched his face, then checked his lower half, confirming he was still in his apartment in Garipan and not in some haunted amusement park filled with female ghosts.

  "What the fuck kind of dream was that..." Jack wiped the sweat from his face, cursing. "I didn't see Nova, Nya, or Meadow naked? I saw vortices, black balls, and a ghost trying to scare me?!"

  "Did I take too much damage? Is my brain broken?"

  He struggled out of bed, walked into the shower, and turned on the hot water.

  As the scalding water cascaded over his head, washing over his body, the woman from his dream—the one in the sky-blue uniform with the empty eyes—floated before him again.

  He finally remembered. That was Mom.

  That was his most beautiful memory.

  In the early morning bathroom, the fat man’s tears mixed with the hot water, flowing silently down his cheeks.

  [Meanwhile: Draconian Imperium, Vesperia — Military High Command]

  General Cassius von Adler, the supreme commander of the Imperial Military, stood with his hands clasped behind his back, gazing out of the massive floor-to-ceiling window.

  This twin-tower complex in Vesperia’s East District was a symbol of absolute imperial power, housing tens of thousands of personnel. Yet, looking out from Adler’s office, there was no scenic beauty—only desolate hills and winding military roads.

  It was a view only the ambitious could appreciate—a silence that was barren, waiting to be conquered.

  His Chief Confidential Secretary had been standing quietly nearby for a long time. Ever since Adler moved into this office—which once belonged to Cyril—he had developed this habit. Since the first secretary who interrupted his contemplation was sent to the front lines as cannon fodder, no one dared to make a sound when he was thinking.

  The secretary stole a glance at his watch, cold sweat trickling down his temples. An important meeting was in thirty minutes, but he dared not rush him.

  Finally, Adler emerged from his thoughts. He didn't turn around, simply watching the reflection in the glass, and asked coldly:

  "Has the message come back?"

  Relieved as if granted amnesty, the secretary nodded respectfully and placed the datapad on the desk. "Yes, General! The operation... has a result."

  Adler turned, his hawk-like eyes fixing on the secretary. "Did the Butcher succeed?"

  The secretary’s Adam’s apple bobbed as he swallowed hard. "No, General. The Butcher... failed."

  "What?" Adler frowned slightly, as if hearing a bad joke. "He failed?"

  The secretary stood still, his expression grave. "Yes, General!"

  General Cassius von Adler paused for a moment, took a sip of his tea, reached for the tablet, and said in an indifferent tone, "It was she who sent the message back, right? Tell her to continue looking for opportunities. Number Two will coordinate with his actions."

  The secretary hesitated, then stammered, "General, the Butcher is dead. Number Two was also exposed due to the mission failure."

  Crash.

  The teacup in Adler's hand smashed onto the floor. He stared at the secretary with a look of utter disbelief.

  "Dead? You say the Butcher is dead?! That is the second-ranked assassin in the universe! Who could kill him? Did Cyril 's entire guard die protecting him?"

  "It wasn't the guard, General." The secretary pulled up a photo showing a corpse with its chest pierced by its own super-alloy hand. "It was a one-on-one duel. According to the final intel from Number One, the killer is..."

  The secretary paused, as if the name itself carried a sense of absurdity.

  "It's 'The Singularity.' He was caught by 'The Singularity' using an obsolete mech, and then, after being humiliated... uh, it seems there was an attempt to remove his pants... he committed suicide out of shame and rage."

  "The Singularity?" Adler shot up from his chair and strode to the desk. "You mean the 'Singularity' that ruined our plans at Cadian Gorge?"

  "Yes, General. Lieutenant Jack Harlan."

  Adler slumped back into his chair, muttering blankly. "A Lieutenant... a fat man... he killed the Butcher? How is that possible?"

  Adler fell silent.

  His fingers tapped unconsciously on the desk. After the anger passed, a deeper chill settled in his heart.

  How many times now? From Cadian Gorge to the POW camp, and now this assassination. Every time the Empire thought victory was in hand, this "Singularity" would jump out and flip the table in the most ridiculous, inconceivable way.

  "Does the Royal Family know?" he asked.

  "Yes, General. The Royal Family is furious."

  Adler let out a cold laugh. The Royal Family's fury was just a hassle to him, but this "Singularity"—he was the real threat.

  "Very well." He stood up, adjusting the collar of his uniform, regaining his cold composure. "Since a professional assassin couldn't solve him, let the lunatics of the universe have a go."

  "Post the Butcher's obituary on the Galactic Dark Web's Assassin Rankings. Attach Jack Harlan's profile."

  Adler walked back to the window, looking at the distant hills, a cruel smile curling his lips.

  "Those monsters ranked behind the Butcher will never tolerate a nobody climbing over their heads. They will swarm like sharks smelling blood."

  "This 'Singularity'... leave him to them for a carnival of chaos."

  The secretary bowed in awe. "Yes, General!"