With the power of the Abyss coursing through him, Orpheus infiltrated the [Akashic Archive].

Avoiding the Curator’s watchful gaze, he searched for the world containing his and Kate’s story. Guided by the strange resonance between himself and the world he originated from, Orpheus found it and slipped inside unnoticed.

The power of the Abyss began to erode the story, altering it piece by piece.

In this rewritten world, the Abyss sent its monstrous creatures to invade, erasing the original conflict between Carlyuga and Vilgames.

Without the war between their families, humanity fled underground to sanctuaries, and this world’s Ian and Kate were able to stay together.

“It worked!”

Orpheus exulted.

He had finally succeeded.

He had found a world where Kate was safe—a world where she could live again.

If this world manifested in the universe, she would return to life.

But things didn’t unfold as planned.

Crunch!

Before he could intervene, one of the Abyss’s creatures devoured the Saintess’s head.

The Abyss within Orpheus sneered.

It had never intended to help him save her.

“NOOOOOOO!” Orpheus screamed, resetting the story.

The world containing their story rewound to the past once again.

This time, Orpheus altered the sequence of events to ensure the monsters couldn’t reach Kate.

But then Kate came to the monsters and died.

Reset again.

Orpheus killed all the monsters before they could approach Kate, but this time, a traitor in the sanctuary murdered her.

Reset again.

He killed the monsters and the traitor, only for infighting in the sanctuary to lead to Kate’s death while she tried to mediate.

Reset.

Reset.

Reset.

Reset.

Reset.

Reset.

No matter what he did, the outcome remained the same.

No matter how he tried, she died every time.

“No matter what you do, the result will not change.”

“As long as my will resides within your being, your existence will lead to her death.”

“And I will safeguard your life for all eternity.”

The Abyss mocked him endlessly.

He reset the story again.

And again.

And again.

And again.

He lost count after thousands—perhaps tens of thousands—of resets.

He knew that giving up would mean she would never return.

He knew this was the only way.

So he continued.

“As long as you can live, I’ll do anything.”

“As long as you can be happy, I don’t care what happens to me.”

“So I’ll keep going.”

“For you, I’ll keep playing this melody.”

“An endless ostinato, to erase the discordant note that is my existence from your story.”

***

  

He was the real deal.

Not a fraud like me.

A true regressor.

The kind who could endure infinite cycles of despair and return if it meant saving the woman he loved.

The Crown Prince, filled with unwavering determination, advanced forward.

After confronting every vision, the Crown Prince finally reached the end of the path.

At the heart of the mental landscape lay Orpheus’s core.

Standing before it was Orpheus, corrupted by the Abyss.

“Orpheus,” the Crown Prince called out.

“[The Archive], is it?”

The voice that answered was no longer Orpheus’s but a dark echo, blackened by the Abyss.

It was a shard of the Abyss implanted within Orpheus—a fragment of the vast darkness and the true enemy of the [Akashic Archive].

The Crown Prince unsheathed his sword.

As he charged at the Abyss-corrupted Orpheus, the battle began.

Hundreds of mechanical arms sprang from Orpheus, shooting toward the Crown Prince.

He swung his blade, infused with the power of numerous essences, slicing through the mechanical limbs.

Despite the relentless onslaught, the Crown Prince pressed forward, launching a cutting wave of energy at Orpheus.

But a massive golem arm rose from the ground, blocking his attack.

Boom!

More golems emerged, their numbers quickly growing to hundreds.

“Haaaah!”

The Crown Prince unleashed his full power, burning through his energy as he charged.

But he couldn’t fight both the endless golems and the Abyss simultaneously.

Crash!

A golem’s arm struck him, sending him sprawling as blood spurted from his mouth.

The Abyss, sneering, directed the golems to overwhelm him.

‘…Is this the end?’

The Crown Prince wanted to sever the Abyss, to fulfill Orpheus’s wish after seeing all that had been done to him.

But it seemed impossible.

As he bowed his head, resigned to this scripted defeat—

“Raise your head, Curator-to-be.”

Orpheus’s soul appeared, stepping between the golems and the Crown Prince.

“What are you doing, after I acknowledged you?”

“…Orpheus?”

The Abyss recoiled in shock at his sudden appearance.

“H-how are you here?!”

Orpheus smirked.

“How many cycles do you think I’ve endured?”

Through countless cycles of repetition, Orpheus had prepared for this moment.

Now was the time to strike back.

Orpheus reached out, placing his hand on the Crown Prince.

“You are the new melody to my ostinato—a variation to sever the flawed and ancient tune of Orpheus and complete my composition.”

His soul merged with the Crown Prince, taking control of his body.

“Lend me your body for just a moment.”

Orpheus, now shining brilliantly in the Crown Prince’s body, charged forward.

“Stay back! Don’t come any closer!”

The Abyss unleashed countless minions to block his path, but Orpheus cut through them all.

His blade shattered every golem and Elder Guardian in his way, eventually reaching the Abyss.

“Gaaaah! How dare you?! A mere mortal!”

The Abyss, wounded, clutched its severed arm as it retreated.

It began gathering its true power, preparing to unleash it.

“That won’t happen.”

Orpheus’s restrictions activated, preventing the Abyss from fully releasing its form.

The condition that bound Orpheus’s body—to never relinquish its mortal shell—now trapped the Abyss within.

“This… this is impossible!”

The restriction applied equally to the Abyss, sealing it within Orpheus’s corrupted body.

“When the soul leaves the body, it cannot return.”

“Damn you! How dare a mortal defy me?!”

The Abyss lashed out, its corrupted form spewing mechanical constructs in a desperate frenzy.

Even as devastating attacks tore into him—lasers severing his right arm, a mechanical limb crushing his left, and his abdomen split open, spilling his entrails—Orpheus pressed forward.

“I’ve repeated this world to create a reality where she could live.”

“Stay back! I said stay back! Urgh!”

Finally, Orpheus’s blade pierced through his own corrupted body, annihilating the Abyss shard within.

“The curse placed on me by the Abyss ensures that as long as I exist, she will face endless, repeated deaths.”

Orpheus’s body disintegrated into dust, taking the Abyss shard with it.

“So I cut away the discordance that is myself to complete the melody for her.”

Boom!

The core shattered, and the surrounding blackened space began to collapse.

The Crown Prince felt Orpheus’s soul fading within him.

“The finale of this endless ostinato is yours, for her.”

As Orpheus’s soul vanished completely, the Crown Prince awoke in the sanctuary.

The Abyss’s forces had been destroyed, leaving behind a healed world.

And in this restored world, the Saintess remained.

“Goodbye, my Frog Prince…”

With the endless discord finally silenced, the now-bright sky was clear and pristine.

***

“You’ve done well, Jeol.”

The Curator of the [Akashic Archive] appeared before the Crown Prince, who had just returned to the Archive.

“I’m sorry. Truly, I never imagined this would happen—that a Sin of Destruction could infiltrate this place.”

The Crown Prince stood silently, his thoughts elsewhere.

“Orpheus—that is, Ian Carlyuga—came to me once before. He asked me to save a woman named Kate.”

The Curator continued speaking, but his words barely reached the Crown Prince.

“To think he endured infinite regressions, all while holding the Abyss within himself—and managed to remain sane. It’s astonishing.”

There was genuine admiration in the Curator’s voice.

“Ian Carlyuga… His name may go down in history. The first being to strike a blow against the Abyss.”

The Curator picked up a book.

“But there’s a problem. The process has left the story distorted. The wrong people are alive, and the ones meant to live have vanished.”

He mused aloud, “Should the Saintess be killed?”

The Crown Prince’s eyes snapped open, his gaze sharp and piercing.

“No.”

His glare bore into the Curator, his unspoken determination clear: If you so much as touch that book, I will not let it stand.

“…Is that so?”

The Curator chuckled softly, snapping the book shut with a faint thump.

“If that’s your will, so be it. But since the story has been altered, I’ll dock your final test score to nine points.”

Leaving the book behind, the Curator turned and walked away.

The Crown Prince stared at the book left on the desk.

Within it, he could see a vision—a flickering image of a spirited girl and a boy, awkwardly dressed in a slicked-back hairstyle, dancing together.

They danced in step to an eternal first melody, one that would now echo forever in peace.