The deserted white sand expanse lay silent where the Yellow Reaper and the plaster doll had vanished.

The sand, glowing as brightly as the sun, stretched out in eerie stillness, with no signs of movement. Only the "Ancient One" stood alone in the vast expanse.

“Finally!”

Overwhelmed by a flood of joy after countless years, the Ancient One felt exhilarated.

“It took so long.”

The Ancient One looked down at his blackened hands, recalling the endless years that had slipped by.

A world shrouded in darkness.

Though resembling a god, his realm was covered in a black, viscous sludge entirely unlike divine light.

After wandering for thousands of years, he had finally found a way to reach godhood—just as his world was on the brink of destruction.

It was bitter irony to discover the path to divinity when his world was collapsing.

Was it proof that humans could never become gods?

He had nearly given up hope… until a new world opened up before him.

A twist of fate.

Crunch, crunch.

Lost in thought, the Ancient One slowly walked across the white sand, gazing down into the pits.

From that point, everything had been surprisingly straightforward.

In the ruined world, humans were scarce, but in this new world, they were as plentiful as cockroaches.

“Indeed, humans in a world untouched by outer gods flourish this abundantly.”

Two things were essential to him.

The first was to resist the whispers of the crimson voices, those outer gods.

The second was to avoid detection by the "Gray Reaper," whom this world worshiped as a god.

The Ancient One refrained from listening to the outer gods and refused to abandon his humanity.

And every doll he controlled was nothing more than a terminal, a mere projection.

To evade detection by the Gray Reaper and its subordinates, he adhered to a rule from a long-lost "Grimoire" of his original world.

“Never kill a human.”

Knowing that the Gray Reaper was sensitive to human deaths, he meticulously avoided killing them.

Those whose disappearances from society were required were instead replaced with false corpses, recorded as accidental deaths, and stored in his white sand realm.

After gathering countless humans, he finally succeeded in drawing power from them.

But gazing down at the dry human remains buried in the sand, the Ancient One sighed.

“Even after using so many people, I never achieved a form like a god’s.”

No matter how hard he tried, he couldn’t fully reach the power of a god or a true “flame.”

He could only obtain a semblance of power by burying humans and extracting their essence.

“Perhaps only by obtaining and studying a true divine servant can I finally reach godhood.”

He concluded that divine power was beyond human comprehension and could only be achieved through imitation.

Thus, he initiated his final, risky plan.

The “Yellow Reaper Capture Plan.”

It involved luring and capturing the isolated Yellow Reaper, who had little interaction with other Mini Reapers.

With the Yellow Reaper in his grasp, he held the final piece of the puzzle to ascend to godhood.

Now, he could attain a genuine “flame.”

However, the Ancient One prioritized leaving this place over beginning his research.

Despite his perfect disguise, there was no telling when the Gray Reaper might appear.

He couldn’t ignore the slight chance of trouble.

Touching godhood using the Yellow Reaper would come after securing his safety.

The Ancient One raised his hands, beginning to reclaim the white sand into himself, so that no one would detect his presence.

Beep, beep.

At dawn, a bird’s clear song drifted through the air.

The Ashen Girl slowly opened her eyes as she heard the sound.

“Yawn…”

Yawning sleepily, she took in her familiar room.

Although she had gone to bed on time the night before, an odd drowsiness lingered.

Shaking her head to push away the sleepiness, she walked slowly over to the window.

Reaching for the window handle, she felt something soft under her fingers.

Curious, she looked down to see a small object in her hand.

“What… is this?”

Peering at it closely, she saw a tiny doll dressed in shabby clothes.

The doll looked almost like a reflection of herself in the mirror.

An odd sense of familiarity filled her.

It felt as if she’d stumbled upon a long-lost treasure.

As she gazed at the doll, her eyes grew red, and a deep ache stirred in her chest.

“A doll… that looks like me?”

Holding the tiny doll in her hands, she whispered softly.

Suddenly, a searing pain filled her mind, and she screamed.

Unable to endure it, her body crumpled to the floor.

Even as she collapsed, the girl did not let go of the doll.

The strange warmth it radiated felt like a comforting embrace.

Clinging to the doll, as if it held the key to forgotten memories, she desperately sought solace in its warmth.

Gentle sunlight poured over her face.

The Ashen Girl tried to shield her eyes, then jolted upright.

“School!”

Sunlight streamed through the room, brushing over her hair. She felt a gentle touch on her head.

“Rest a little longer.”

She turned to see her sister smiling kindly beside her.

“Sister?”

An inexplicable sense of dissonance lingered in the Ashen Girl’s mind as she looked at her.

Her sister chattered on, worriedly mentioning how she’d suddenly collapsed, but the girl couldn’t focus.

Fragments of strange memories began surfacing.

Sadness.

The smell of incense.

A rectangular frame.

And her sister’s bright, smiling face inside that frame.

It felt like a memory she was forbidden to remember, so she shook her head vigorously, trying to scatter the thoughts.

“No, I’m getting up.”

She slowly removed the blanket and rose.

As she looked down, she noticed the small object gripped tightly in her right hand.

A doll with ashen hair.

A doll she had forgotten until she looked at it again.

“No… I don’t want to remember.”

Her voice trembled with fear.

She tried to pry her fingers off the doll, but no matter how hard she pulled, they wouldn’t budge.

Instead, her grip only tightened.

A desperate feeling emanated from her fingertips, as if letting go was out of the question.

“Sister…”

Her mind tangled, thoughts jumbled into an incomprehensible mess.

Her vision blurred, and a deafening silence filled her ears.

Her body trembled uncontrollably from the unbearable pain before finally going limp.

Even as her consciousness faded, her hand clung tightly to the doll, as though she couldn’t release the key to the hidden memories within.

The girl opened her eyes.

She felt as though she had just awakened from a terribly sad dream.

A dream filled with sorrowful cries and a picture frame.

A soft breeze, as if from a hole in the wall, drifted past her.

The Ashen Girl realized the truth.

She felt as if she might lose consciousness.

…

No, she wanted to lose consciousness.

“I’m sorry, sister.”

The plaster doll reopened its eyes, quietly apologizing in its heart as it rose from the skeletal bed.

Driven by sheer will, it took one step forward.

With that, its connection to the force holding its form began to fray.

But ignoring it, it took another step.

Its left arm completely disintegrated.

The “false home” revealed its skeletal frame.

Taking another step forward.

The right leg, which had been supporting it, crumbled to pieces.

The “false family” revealed their true forms.

Collapsing onto the floor, it crawled forward.

The “false self” showed its true nature.

Half of its face shattered and fell to the ground.

“It doesn’t hurt.”

“I must go.”

“I must save my friend.”

With unwavering determination, the plaster doll moved forward.

Continuing to crawl forward.

The “Find the Yellow Reaper” search for the missing toy had become an incident.

“The Yellow Reaper is missing.”

No matter how hard I searched, I couldn’t sense the Yellow Reaper.

My senses cover the entire planet, so I should have felt the Yellow Reaper anywhere.

Even after asking every Mini Reaper and discovering the Yellow Reaper’s secret hideout, there was no sign of him.

All that was left in the hideout were some suspicious items with strong mental corruption.

These clues led to a highly suspicious apartment complex.

Exposed building frames.

Black dust floating in the air.

And plaster dolls roaming through it.

At night, it looked like a scene straight out of a horror movie.

“And they decided to just leave such a suspicious place alone?”

Filled with anger, I bit down on a Golden Reaper I had in my mouth.

“Nooo!”

“Ahhh!”

As I stormed into the apartment complex, disciplining the Golden Reapers, I saw a strange plaster doll slowly crawling toward me.

The doll’s face was shattered, its left arm completely detached from its shoulder.

Even its feet were gone, yet it crawled forward, desperately.

None of the other plaster dolls even noticed it.

The doll saw me and struggled to raise its right hand.

In its grip was a well-made doll with ashen hair.

The doll held traces of the Yellow Reaper’s energy.

I leaned down toward the fallen plaster doll.

A faint glimmer of intent seeped from it.

“Finally, I found you.”

Relief and joy, as though it had crossed an impossibly long journey.

Slowly, with great effort, the doll stretched out its arm, offering the doll to me.

As I took it, a sigh of finality emanated from it.

“It’s over now…”

It was a feeling of calm, as if it had completed its final mission.

At that moment, the plaster doll’s body began to crumble.

It disintegrated like a sandcastle, scattering into the air like ashes caught in the wind.

…

I stared blankly at the remains before looking down at the doll with ashen hair.

At a glance, it appeared to be just an ordinary doll, not an object.

But I could feel a faint, nearly imperceptible connection—a thread linking it to something beyond.

That thread stretched out, leading to a space somewhere far away.

“So, that’s where you are.”

With a ferocious grin, I tore open the fabric of space right then and there.