Chapter 2: Chapter 2 - Choice

The first thing Rein noticed was how bright it actually was beyond Rigel.

The neighboring realms shimmered in the distance, casting their glow into the vast darkness of the Unknown.

It would have been beautiful—breathtaking, even—if not for the biting cold that worsened the farther he drifted from his home.

He floated in silence, helpless, watching as Rigel—his realm—along with the smaller planetary realms that orbited it, steadily shrank in the distance. Those planetary realms, once bustling with resources and minerals, now looked like fading lights. He had no control over his movement. All he could do was drift. Drift, and hope that his plan would somehow succeed.

There were hundreds of ways he could die, it was an execution after all.

The most likely? Freezing to death. One of the most agonizing ways to go, in his opinion.

Another possibility was being swallowed by a black hole—the remains of a dead realm—a quicker end, and maybe even painless.

Or perhaps, by some twist of fate, he’d drift close enough to a neighboring realm. In that case, he might be captured, imprisoned as a potential bargaining chip for Rigel.

But Rigel had already deemed him dead. To them, he was worthless. He’d likely be discarded there too.

Still, Rein held on to hope.

His heart had already begun to regenerate the pneuma drained from him, albeit slowly, far more slowly than those with more pneuma gates opened.

And without the strength or knowledge to control it properly, the regeneration only served to delay the inevitable.

He had a small window. A sliver of time where his plan could work.

And if it didn’t… then this would truly be his end.

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The nineteen days leading up to his execution weren’t spent merely reading and memorizing knowledge from the library’s books.

What good was knowledge if he died before he could use it?

No, he had a plan.

And at the heart of that plan was a single creature.

The Million Whale.

One of the legendary demonic beasts, spoken of in myths and dismissed as fantasy.

And yet, through painstaking research, Rein had confirmed its existence.

No one truly knew where the name originated.

Some believed it referred to the number of years it had lived.

Others claimed it had traveled across a million realms.

Either way, the name stuck.

Said to be larger than a hundred realms combined, the Million Whale was a colossal entity capable of crossing the boundaries between the Underworld, Overworld, and Outerworld, something believed impossible for any being.

Yet it didn’t stop there. It could travel faster than any known creature in the universe, a living enigma whose sole purpose was to wander the cosmos endlessly.

Rein’s belief in its existence wasn’t blind faith.

He had cross-referenced countless sources: diaries, ancient scrolls, stories, and logbooks.

Scattered testimonies of sightings aligned too perfectly to be coincidence.

But the most convincing proof came from one man:

Kael Riven.

Rein's adventuring hero, who claimed to have ridden the demonic beast himself.

Kael’s accounts weren’t just filled with poetic awe, they contained the most vital piece of information:

That the Million Whale could be ridden, and how it could be ridden, provided one paid the fare.

Treasures, artifacts, rare resources…

Even a crumb of one's lifespan.

And that single detail had become the foundation of Rein’s desperate gamble.

Of course, the date hadn’t been random. The 23rd day of the eighth month, deliberately chosen. As for the year… that had been luck. Pure, desperate luck. Lucky that the Celestials of Rigel had the patience to let him live just long enough to be executed on the precise day he needed.

Because that was the only day that mattered.

The cluster of realms that included Rigel was passed by the Million Whale only once every century. Rein had calculated the timing based on every scrap of data he could gather: ancient logs, realm charts, conflicting testimonies. By tracking the whale’s path and aligning it with the position of their realm cluster, he’d pinpointed the date.

But the time of day? The exact trajectory? Whether his assumptions were even correct? That was another matter entirely.

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It was a gamble. A colossal, mad gamble. A one-in-a-million chance that he had clung to with everything he had.

And now, he was losing hope.

The cold gnawed at him with growing ferocity, and every breath felt like inhaling needles. Rigel had faded into the background, a distant speck swallowed by the void. He remained motionless, like a statue drifting in silence, circulating his pneuma slowly through his body to conserve what little strength remained.

Then, a light.

From the direction of Rigel, a strange golden radiance emerged, racing across the darkness toward him, impossibly fast. It left a brilliant trail in its wake, like a comet cutting through the void.

His heart skipped.

What?

Straining to understand what the light was, his mind landed on one devastating conclusion.

An energy blast.

Was that how badly they wanted me dead?

Panic surged. He scrambled, flailing as if swimming through water, arms and legs thrashing in the void, desperately trying to push himself away. He funneled what little pneuma he had regenerated into his limbs. But it was no use.

He didn’t even shift an inch.

Every movement only drained him faster.

It’s over for me.

Surrendering to his fate, he stopped moving.

Goodbye, Morin.

His limbs went still. The last of his hope flickered out. He took a slow, trembling breath and closed his eyes.

Then—impact.

A sudden, crushing force slammed into his body, knocking the breath out of his lungs. He spun, tumbling wildly through the void, unable to tell up from down, left from right. Disoriented, stunned, gasping.

But alive.

Somehow, against all odds… he was still alive.

Strange. An energy blast that fast and bright should’ve vaporized him on impact. Yet… he was still here. Alive. And something was wrapped tightly around him—warm, soft, and trembling—like a lifeline refusing to let go.

Rein opened his eyes.

If being exiled from Rigel and nearly obliterated by light hadn’t killed him, the shock of what he saw almost did.

Morin.

His little sister was clinging to him, arms and legs wrapped tightly around his body, as if she’d fused herself to him and had no intention of ever letting go.

He should have been furious. Should have demanded to know what she was thinking. Scolded her for following him into death.

But instead, he just held her. Pulled her even closer. Tears welled in his eyes, blurring his vision as he returned her silent, desperate embrace.

Minutes passed in weightless quiet.

Finally, his mind caught up to the moment. He loosened his grip slightly and looked down at her still-clinging form.

“…What are you doing here?”

There was no way Elder Lunor had given her permission to do this. Morin was a prodigy, an irreplaceable piece of Rigel’s future, even at her young age.

But instead of answering, she said nothing. Only the soft sound of sniffling escaped her, her face still buried in his chest.

Rein quieted the storm of questions and thoughts in his mind. Just for now. He lifted a hand and gently rubbed the back of her head, fingers combing through her hair as if each strand were a priceless treasure.

Eventually, Morin looked up at him, eyes swollen, cheeks damp, snot trailing from her nose.

“Don’t leave me.”

The words crashed into him, harder than exile, harder than the cold.

It was the first time he’d seen Morin like this. Vulnerable. A mess. She had always been composed, almost too mature for her age. Seeing her like this—not just sad, but undone—tied a knot in his chest he didn’t know how to untangle.

For the first time, he felt like he could truly understand her. The first time he felt their emotions connect with each other.

“Sorry. I’m sorry,” was all Rein could manage.

When Morin finally stopped crying, the thoughts Rein had been bottling up began to spill.

“I can’t believe Elder Lunor let you leave Rigel.”

“He didn’t,” Morin said quietly.

“But how—”

“I snuck out.”

“That’s why I didn’t see you in the crowd before they threw me out?”

She nodded.

It was a clever move. If she had shown even a hint of rebellion publicly, the Celestials would’ve stopped her immediately. She must’ve been furious, not just at his exile, but at everyone who allowed it. Yet, instead of lashing out, she suppressed it all and chose to slip away in secret. Smart. Brave. If they had known what she intended, they would’ve done everything to stop her. She was strong, but going up against a group—especially someone as strong as Elder Lunor—was impossible.

“No one saw you?” Rein asked.

“Just one,” she said. “I punched him really hard. He fell asleep after that.”

Rein couldn’t help but laugh, a small, breathless sound that slipped past his lips. It was ridiculous. But here she was. And Morin smiled too, just a little.

He still didn’t fully understand how, but he had no choice now, he had to accept it.

She was with him.

“Unbelievable. How did you even manage to catch up to me? You’ve only opened your second pneuma gate, right?” Rein asked, disbelief laced in his voice.

If he remembered correctly, moving outside of realms should only be possible after unlocking the third gate.

“Yes. I can move. Only in one direction,” Morin replied.

“I can’t believe you. That was so reckless. What were you thinking—”

He stopped himself.

There were still tears clinging to the corners of her eyes. He gently wiped them away with his sleeve.

How could he blame her?

This was his fault. All of it. If only he had been stronger, if only he had her conviction, maybe things would’ve been different. Maybe he could’ve thrown away his ambitions. Maybe they could’ve stayed in Rigel together, lived a life of cultivation, helped expand their territory, maybe even rule the realm side by side someday.

But none of that mattered now. The past was sealed.

All that mattered was keeping her alive.

After enhancing his vision with a surge of pneuma, Rein scanned the darkness until he spotted what he was looking for, a single, brilliant white dot. The nearest realm.

His reckless plan… he had to abandon it. It was too impossible from the start. His sister’s safety mattered a thousand times more than his own. He only needed to tell Morin to take them there. They would probably execute him, but they would keep Morin safe.

The thought twisted his heart into knots, especially after what she had just said—Don’t leave me.

But he had no choice. His life for hers? He would make that trade a million times.

He opened his mouth to speak… but something stopped him.

A faint sound.

In the next moment, his heart pounded as realization struck him like lightning.

Out of all the information he had gathered from countless texts about the Million Whale, one detail had always remained consistent. The one thing every witness swore they had heard the moment the whale appeared.

The sound of trumpets.

The sound grew louder with each passing second. Then finally, he saw it.

In the distance, where a cluster of realms dotted the darkness like a horizon of white lights, something was missing. A whole section had vanished, as if swallowed by a vast void.

Rein knew there should’ve been over a thousand white dots in that space. He had been staring at them just moments ago. Now, it was as if a giant shadow had fallen over them.

A shadow in the shape of a whale.

His breath caught in his throat. That meant his calculations had been right. His plan could actually work.

But now came the choice.

One: turn around, head toward the nearest realm, and surrender his life so that Morin could be safe.

Two: ride the Million Whale with his little sister in his arms, and risk everything in a plunge that could very well end in their deaths.

“Brother,” came a soft voice. “What’s wrong?”

Rein took a deep breath, closed his eyes, then opened them again. With a bitter smile he met the pitiful gaze of the small girl in his arms.

“Would you like to die with me?” he asked.

Morin didn’t hesitate. She nodded with resolve and clung tighter to him, burying her face against his chest.

And in that moment, Rein made the most selfish decision of his life.

He took a deep breath and funneled the last traces of pneuma left in his body into his voice, amplifying it. He gently covered Morin’s ears and screamed with all his might:

“I am a lost traveler!”

A pause. Then—

“Where to, dear passenger?” a voice echoed inside his head.