OLD-WORLD EXTRA-Chapter 544: It Will Come For You

{Who Is this?}

Magnus wasn't there.

The base was bait.

The army was bait.

Everything. Everything was a setup.

But Lyra—Lyra came through.

Through the blood. Through the fire. Through the lies.

She found the real location.

She gave Emir the number.

And with the call came a voice.

A voice he'd been waiting to hear.

"Who is this?"

"Subject 777."

A breath.

"I'm coming for you, Magnus."

A chuckle. Slow. Amused.

"Haven't you heard… Subject? The war is over before it started."

His grip tightened around the terminal.

"My war ends with you."

Magnus exhaled, almost disappointed.

"Like it ended for Amon?"

The air turned still.

"Tell me, Subject… how long did it take him to die?"

Silence.

Magnus laughed, soft, mocking.

"I've destroyed your world, piece by piece."

"It won't be long until I end you."

Emir's jaw clenched.

Then, with a voice colder than the abyss—

"You won't have to look far."

{The Three Speeches}

The battlefield was beyond them.

The final stand.

The final war.

And across the three points of attack—three voices rose.

First, Ragnar & Kiera.

"There is a simplicity to war."

"Attacking is the only secret."

"Dare, and the world yields."

Kiera stepped forward, her blue eyes gleaming.

"How quickly they forget that all it takes to change history… is the will of a single man."

She turned to them.

"Emir is that man."

"He will be the one to change fate."

Second, Lyra.

She stood above her people, her voice like steel.

"History is written by the victor."

"History is filled with liars."

She paused, gaze cutting through the doubt in the crowd.

"If he lives and we die, his truth becomes written."

"And ours is lost."

She exhaled, stepping forward.

"Magnus will be a hero."

Her voice hardened.

"Because all you need to change the world—"

"Is one good lie and an ocean of blood."

She scanned their faces.

"His truth will be THE truth."

"But only if he lives and we die."

Last, Emir.

He stood before them.

No grandeur. No embellishment.

Just reality.

"The healthy human mind doesn't wake up thinking this is its last day."

He let that sink in.

"But I think that's a luxury. Not a curse."

His eyes darkened.

"To know you're close to the end… is a kind of freedom."

His voice was low. Even. Certain.

"Good time to say your goodbyes."

He looked over them.

His people. His soldiers.

"Out of our minds... against an army eclipsing ours."

He let the words hang.

"It's a suicide mission, isn't it?"

His fingers curled into fists.

"No."

He exhaled.

"We will never die. They will remember us."

He lifted his head.

Voice steady. Unshakable.

"For this."

The air crackled.

A current ran through his men.

A certainty.

"Because out of all the vast array of nightmares—"

"This is the one we choose for ourselves."

A pause.

"...We go forward with insanity in our hearts and one goal in sight."

His hands trembled. With rage.

With purpose.

His voice, the final hammer.

"We. Will. Kill him."

A step forward.

"We'll kill, Magnus."

And as his words echoed—

The war began.

{Turnt Tables}

The war was over.

The battlefield was silent.

And Magnus—the Throne—lay in ruins.

His body trembled, his breath ragged. Kneeling. Bleeding. Broken.

Above him, Emir stood tall. Stained in crimson. His hands steady.

Magnus lifted his head, one eye barely open.

"Say it."

A pause.

Magnus blinked.

"...What?"

Emir stepped closer.

The barrel of his Cerberus Pistol pressed to Magnus's forehead.

"Say my name."

Magnus let out a short breath. A laugh? A cough? He wasn't sure.

But then, his lips curled into a knowing smirk.

"You're not a subject anymore?"

Emir's pressed further.

Magnus exhaled.

"...Emir."

Emir's expression didn't change. But something in the air shifted.

"So…"

Magnus chuckled, weak and hoarse.

"You finally see the world through my eyes."

His head tilted.

"How does it feel?"

Emir took a slow breath.

"Not much different."

Magnus hummed and Emir's lips twitched.

"Though, to be honest… I never thought I'd make it this far."

Emir stepped back just slightly.

"And please... if you have it in your heart to accept what I did then—"

His smirk deepened.

"Then don't."

A pause.

"I'm not finished yet."

Lyra arrived and she brought them.

Magnus's family. His wife. His child.

Magnus looked up, his breath catching.

His body tensed.

And then—

Click.

The cold of his Cerberus.

"It wasn't personal."

Emir chuckled.

"For me, it is."

Magnus swallowed.

"Not in front of my family."

Emir smirked.

"Oh, you got it wrong."

His gun shifted and landed on them.

Magnus's eyes widened.

"It's time for them to meet god."

Bang.

His wife fell.

Bang.

His child hit the ground.

"AAAAAAAHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH!"

Magnus screamed.

His voice shattered the silence.

He crawled. Desperate. Weak.

Broken.

He tried to run.

He tried to crawl away.

Away from the corpses of his family.

Emir followed slowly.

Looking down at him.

Watching him.

Letting him feel every. Single. Moment.

Then—

Bang!

The final shot.

And Magnus was no more.

{Family's Goodbye}

Emir didn't get to celebrate.

There was no time for victory. No moment to breathe.

Because Solis struck again.

And this time—he aimed for Emir's family.

A ship. Falling from the sky. Their ship.

A streak of fire. A flash of metal.

And then—

BOOM!

It exploded.

Emir stood there. Frozen.

His eyes locked onto the burning wreckage in the distance.

His left thumb and index finger slowly rubbed his eyes.

His hands dropped back down.

He blinked.

"Aha…"

"…"

"Hm…"

Then his hands dropped back down.

"It happened."

"Not an illusion."

"…"

He nodded.

"It did actually happen."

"Yeah… it did."

"It really did."

"Hmhm…"

Emir began stroking his chin.

"But I passed that fate didn't I?"

"…I did."

"Then was it due to my negligence?"

"It was."

"It Is."

"Yeah."

"I fucked up."

"Everything's ruined."

Emir nodded once again.

"…I've—"

…

"Ahahahahahaah!"

Emir lay on his back, laughing while his eyes stared at the sky.

His right hand covered his face, while his left gripped the ground.

"FUCK! FUCK—"

…

"Hooouf…"

Now he was quiet, only breathing while his head remained stuck, staring at the ground.

He never once blinked.

…

"…Should I check on them?"

"No… what's the use?"

"But maybe they're alive."

"Yeah, I should go."

Emir tried to stand up, but his lower body felt stuck to the ground.

"Ha… should I crawl?"

"No, I'll try again."

"…"

His legs didn't even move an inch, only trembling in one place.

"I'll crawl."

He decided.

Emir's right hand reached out and dragged his body forward, beginning his journey…

The journey to his family's funeral.

{In A New Realm}

Emir could no longer move.

He had resigned himself to it.

They were gone. His family. Everyone.

His mother, his sister, his brothers, his wife. Everyone.

Dead.

Nothing left to do but sign off on their deaths and join them.

But then—

A flicker.

Their signals.

Still active.

Still alive.

Someone had saved them.

Someone he knew.

Mr. Bishop.

No… not Mr. Bishop.

Haydar.

His father.

The man who left. The man who disappeared.

The man who came back—only to die.

Haydar fought.

Against Solis.

Against something no man should be able to fight.

Against something far beyond the realm of the living.

But he fought anyway.

New n𝙤vel chapters are published on novelbuddy.cσ๓.

And in the end—

He died.

Emir couldn't stand it.

After all these years. After all the pain.

Only to show up now?

Only to die?

"You left."

"You fucking left."

His voice trembled with rage.

"And you come back now?"

"For what?! To die in front of me?! To leave me twice?!"

Silence.

Only the embers of battle remained.

Then, a voice.

Soft. Firm.

"That wasn't him."

Emir turned.

A woman. Unfamiliar.

She looked at Haydar's lifeless body, then at Emir.

"That wasn't Haydar. That was his vessel."

Emir's eyes narrowed.

"What the hell does that mean?"

She didn't answer.

Instead, she turned, motioning for him to follow.

And behind him—

The others.

Alive.

His family.

Saved.

Healed.

And so, they followed.

To the remnants of the Eternal Star Clan.

{Dead Planets}

Day 10.

The sun still lived.

Bright as ever.

The scientists had lied.

No freezing hell. No endless night.

Only thriving...

...

Aetheric Stellar Gate.

A project by the Aetherwing Initiative.

A foolish, reckless, ambitious Mega Corporation.

They sought to perfect artificial wormhole technology.

They almost did.

But they cut corners. Cut costs.

And when they fired it up—

It wasn't an Earth-like planet waiting on the other side.

It was something else.

An Eldritch horror.

Something beyond the stars.

Beyond understanding.

It blasted through.

Everything around it—gone.

Nothing survived.

Only it and the moon remained.

Drifting. Rotting. Forgotten.

A monument to hubris.

Interstellar travel?

Not something to cheap out on.

...

"They're everywhere."

The words trembled from the lips of a dying scientist.

"By god, I mean EVERYWHERE!"

Dead planets.

Yanked from their stars.

Set adrift in the void.

Hurled aimlessly through deep space.

No warmth. No light. No home.

They were always there.

Hidden in the blackness.

Unseen. Unfelt.

Until now.

And the truth was worse.

"Not all were lifeless."

Many had once held civilizations.

Now?

Graveyards.

Tombs drifting endlessly through the dark.

Once-rich worlds, reduced to monuments of death.

"Gravenesses, we call them."

Skeletons of societies long gone.

Once thriving. Once proud.

Now?

Dust.

Then we found it.

A world. A city.

From the deepest valley to the highest peak—

Civilization.

A dead one.

Decay from the top down.

Ever so slowly turning to dust.

Adrift for 15,000 years.

A lost world.

A lost people.

They searched for answers.

There were none.

Everything—erased.

All that remained?

Bones.

Pale, bleached, long stripped of life by the endless stellar winds.

But then—

A discovery.

Deep below the surface.

A single data drive.

Preserved. Untouched.

A lone voice in the dark.

A final message.

It took years to decipher.

And when they did—

It was only one sentence.

One image.

A statement, left by the last of their kind.

A testament against oblivion.

And when they read it, they understood.

They felt the weight of its truth.

The weight of what was coming.

"It had awoken."

This was where Solis was trapped.

The place that became his prison.

And the message left behind?

A warning.

A prophecy.

A whisper across the void—

"It came for us."

"As it will one day… for you."