Dismissing these strange feelings with a shake of his head,
Gil thought,
You might be waiting for a long, very long time then.
Sparing the departed shadow this last thought, he sprang into action.
He was running out of time.
All around him, the chains he had conjured grew fainter and fainter before silently dissolving into nothingness.
With their disappearance, the strange things he had harvested from the shadows were left floating in the void.
Left with no other choice, he hastily scooped up the cloudy masses, cradling them in his arms as he hurried back toward his Aegis.
As he ran, his own form began to deteriorate.
First, his golden garments vanished, followed soon after by his chained gauntlets, leaving him completely bare.
Then, with each step he took, his light dimmed further. His long hair gradually lost its radiant glow and receded to its normal length.
The deadly, cold edge in his eyes dissolved, and their color returned to their usual amber hue. Even the regal poise and domineering gravitas he had been exuding faded away, replaced by his usual stubborn, reckless temperament.
By the time he arrived beside his Aegis, Gil was almost entirely back to how he was in reality, both physically and mentally.
Almost.
Because despite losing the greater part of that blinding brightness, it hadn't completely vanished.
A minute, lingering fraction of it remained.
His form, though much dimmer, was still fundamentally different from his physical self. If before he had been made of dazzling golden light, he was now composed of a softer, muted luminescence, covered by a dim film that obscured his true glow.
It was as if something about his very nature had shifted.
Immediately after reverting, a crushing wave of weakness assaulted him.
His vision spun violently, and the profound feebleness made him stumble forward, accidentally spilling the cloudy essences he had been carrying.
Worse still, this weakness didn't just affect him.
Further ahead, under his stunned gaze, the giant sphere—the imposing Aegis that had fended off multiple assaults from phantom beasts and a squad of shades, that had guided him here and infused him with overwhelming power—finally reached its absolute limit.
Stripped of its strength, the sphere collapsed inward, shrinking rapidly from its towering height until it was no larger than an adult's fist.
Floating quietly in midair, the shrunken golden sphere continued to burn, its glow dim and weakened, but steady.
Just as the transformation seemed to finish, Gil felt a sharp, sudden pang of hunger spreading through his core, catching him entirely by surprise.
Can I still feel hungry in this form?
he wondered, completely uncertain.
Before he could process the sensation, the miniature but still burning sphere emitted a powerful pulling force.
This traction targeted the cloud-like essences he had taken from the shades, as well as some unseen sustenance floating all around the void.
In a blink, the cloudy masses were pulled inside the sphere and disappeared. Its glow rose a noticeable notch as it continued to absorb the unseen matter, undergoing minute, subtle changes.
Even Gil benefited from the sphere's actions.
He felt the crushing weight of his weakness lessen considerably, his condition improving by the second.
Witnessing this, Gil stood with his eyes wide and mouth slightly agape, his heart throbbing with a sense of loss—though, in this ethereal state, he didn't actually have a heart to throb.
Whether it was the drastic shrinking of the sphere or the sudden devouring of his hard-won loot, he couldn't help but feel robbed.
I didn't even have the time to examine those things properly. Damn it.
After a long while, he let out a resigned sigh and took one last look at his burning sphere.
It's worse than I thought it would be, Gil thought ruefully, feeling a sting of disappointment after losing that extraordinary state.
For a brief instant... I knew what it felt like to stand above everything.If power always felt like this... perhaps no one truly remained themselves after obtaining it.
He had never felt so powerful in his entire life.
If I had that kind of strength before, hehehe... I would have taught those cloaked bastards the meaning of the word pain, with plenty of extra care reserved for that bastard Hector.
Weakened and weary, Gil couldn't help but fantasize while waiting to regain enough strength to move. Straining his ethereal muscles, he rolled onto his back and let his gaze wander, finally taking a quiet moment to absorb the cosmic scenery around him.
Yet, as lost as he was in the splendor of the stars, his mind refused to rest. There were far too many questions racing through it.
Was this place some kind of mindscape?
Why did it look like an endless cosmos?
And the orb... what exactly was it?
Why did he feel so profoundly connected to it?
Turning away from the stars to look at the orb once more, he decided to test a theory.
"Hum... Can you understand me?"
The orb simply continued its quiet vigil, burning softly in midair without responding or changing in the slightest.
It gave no answer.
Yet... Gil couldn't shake the feeling that something had listened.
But failing to pick up any emotional resonance like he had with the shade, Gil felt a mixture of relief and disappointment.
It doesn't seem conscious, though. It feels more like its actions are driven by pure instinct... or perhaps my own subconscious will.
Setting the mystery aside and adding it to his ever-growing pile of unresolved questions, he decided to use his time wisely and organize the information he had managed to extract from the shade.
Speaking of the shade... Hector and his crew were going to be a serious problem.
Thinking back to the information he had pried from the deceitful creature and combining it with the horrors he had already endured,
Gil's expression grew deeply solemn.
If what the shade had hinted at was true, the cloaked organization was divided into three distinct factions.
Of those three, the shade only possessed real knowledge about one:
The Grey Cloaks
Each faction was entirely different, and each answered to its own leader, aided by a vice-leader.
The Grey Cloaks, for example—the ones responsible for capturing Gil and the other youths—were the largest faction in terms of raw numbers.
They operated actively in the shadows of the world, executing most of the organization's dirty work. Their vice-leader was Lucius, the very man Gil had already marked as highly dangerous—the man pulling the red threads.
Furthermore, each faction possessed exceptionally powerful members who had touched upon something they called The Way.
Although the shade didn't know much about the mysterious Way, from its testimony, Gil managed to get a rough idea of what it meant.
It meant they wielded strange, supernatural forces just like he did.
Did it mean he also had touched upon it?
He wasn't sure.
More surprisingly, they actually knew how to systematically train others to awaken and manipulate these forces.
Gil recalled how utterly blindsided he had been by that piece of information.
Doesn't that mean nearly every high-ranking member of the organization wields these strange powers?
If they possess that much strength, why are they still scurrying around like rats in the dark?
What could a group like that possibly be afraid of?
The shade hadn't known the answer to that either, leaving Gil to speculate. If a rogue group like this had access to extraordinary forces, then the global Union surely did too—and they were likely far stronger than Hector's faction.
But that wasn't even the most shocking revelation.
Driven by sheer curiosity, Gil had wondered aloud what the organization's ultimate objective was, and the shade had simply burst into laughter.
It had been a deeply mocking, cynical laugh, as if the creature had recalled something inherently ridiculous—a piece of information it had likely overheard from one of the executives and never fully believed.
Upon hearing the answer, Gil finally understood why the shade had laughed so mockingly.
Their ultimate goal...
...was to save the world.