"Poor thing. You sought the Initial Book because you wanted to undo everything. To undo the monstrous mistake you made with your own hands. What a pity."
The veins stood out on Isla's hand as he gripped his longbow.
He had personally taken the Initial Book from the enormous stone wall in the ruins. He had also personally turned its first page.
The instant he turned that page, he felt it—the world had changed. From that day onward, omens of apocalypse followed one after another across the land.
The virus was merely a smokescreen, but the truth, the source of it all, lay within the Initial Book.
He knew. He knew it was all his fault.
That was why he wanted to make amends for everything, to undo everything.
And everything that happened afterward was exactly as that voice had said.
Wherever he went, all manner of disasters followed. If not man-made calamities, then natural disasters.
Storms, tsunamis, volcanic eruptions, plagues, murders, madness, insanity—every kind of disaster capable of destroying everything surrounded him, constantly unfolding around him.
"You must act."
The voice spoke softly.
"Flames that move swiftly bring only a moment's warmth. Linger too long, and they will burn everything to ashes."
"I..." Isla trembled all over and clenched his teeth. These past few days in Siril had been the easiest, most peaceful days he had known since opening the Initial Book.
Simply not having to worry about danger striking at any moment, not having to worry about dragging down those around him—
All he had done was beg, plead, hope that such a quiet life could last a few more days. That alone would have been the greatest gift he could receive.
But unfortunately, it seemed... "Your time is almost up. If you do not leave, those around