Across the muddy wasteland beneath the drizzle, Lynn ran with all his might, his gaze locked on the burning sky.
He saw the Clown facing him, his expression caught between laughter and tears.
He also saw the enormous, battered eye within the shattered boundaries of the vast Vision Realm, and the entire Doll Manor surrounded by countless Mechanical Units.
And with things having come this far,
he had long since known.
You cannot escape.
They were forcing him to use that Magic Array, to fully awaken the power within him. In truth, he should have realized it long ago. After the upheaval in Curse City, he should have understood that his very existence meant there was an enormous secret.
And there were those phantoms in his dreams, that white-haired man, that blue sky.
From the prophecy the Feather Pen had told him so long ago.
From Sir Awen telling him that the Magic Array did not point to him alone.
And now, at last, he understood completely.
All of this was because of that figure overlapping with him, that Violet that stood for something.
His gaze remained fixed on the massed army. Psionics swirled around his fingers, and the enormous Magic Array took shape, little by little, in the void before him.
And if that was how it was...
Then so be it!
He took a step forward.
Violet streams of light spread out from beneath his feet, their brilliant patterns expanding across the ground below him.
He had already made his choice.
Because he, Lynn, had never been a man of grand ambitions. Once, he had only been a shop assistant at the Potion Shop. Even after he began navigating among all those powerful figures, all he had wanted was to protect this home he had finally gained, to