Jin-Woo stood silent for a moment as the light and shadow of the Force coiled outward from his extended hand. The midichlorian manipulation he unleashed wasn't a spell. It wasn't a ritual. It was will. A command sent into the very biofield of existence. And reality listened.
A low hum filled the air—subtle, but divine. Not music, not vibration—something deeper.
Each of them felt it in their own way.
Kadoc's eyes widened. His fingers curled slowly.
Chest tightens first… then warmth. Not like heat. Like something breathing inside me. My spine… fingertips… alive.
"Is this… control?" he whispered. "Its—not magecraft. Something cleaner. But familiar. Like purpose, with muscle. I'm not useless. Not anymore… Anastasia, you can count on it."
Not far from him, Kirschtaria's stance didn't change—but his expression softened, slightly. His golden veins—restored by Jin-Woo earlier—flared once more, responding now not to magic, but something beyond structure.
A second heartbeat. A pulse of destiny. No leyline. No theory. No chant. Just… law. I don't need magecraft anymore.
He murmured, "This is the Force. What the gods hoarded. And now… it is mine."
Peperoncino let out a delighted squeal. His entire frame shuddered in euphoric ticklishness as his arms glowed faintly.
"Aaah Darling This is mmmmm , The Force feels like wine and opera and the flutter before a kiss!"
He struck a flamboyant DIO pose. "THIS… is The World! STAND POWER !"
Ophelia palmed her face, groaning. "Pepe, the posture was to relax, not show off…"
Still, a moment later, her breath caught in her throat. A cold wind had swept through her veins—icy at first, then clean, analytical. The Force is… precision. I can see the world now. Like fate under glass.
"I can finally… do more. For my comrades. For Kirschtaria-sama…"
Hinako Akuta sat still, her face unreadable. She didn't react—at first.
But then she whispered, " intimacy."
Her hand trembled as she touched her chest. "It's like a bell being rung… inside me. I hate this. I love this. I feel…"
A single tear rolled down her cheek. "…alive."
Jin-Woo exhaled softly. "Congratulations," he said calmly, letting his hand fall. "You're now—"
"—A JEDIIIIIII!!" shouted Peperoncino with both arms raised to the sky.
The entire dome went dead silent.
Everyone—including the Lostbelt kings and even the quiet Discouri—turned to stare at him with blank, vaguely mortified expressions.
Ophelia slapped her palm to her face harder this time. "Pepe…"
Hinako, arms crossed, turned her gaze slowly toward Daybit. "…Why is he not doing anything?" she muttered. "He's still—"
"Shh," Jin-Woo cut in, his tone suddenly razor-sharp. He narrowed his eyes, staring at Daybit again. "Wait…"
Daybit remained motionless, seated in perfect Jedi posture—back straight, hands resting calmly on his knees, his eyes closed. But the Force pressure around him was different. It didn't flow. It surged. It vibrated, rippling out from him in barely contained pulses like silent thunder.
Jin-Woo frowned, his voice low. "Offensive Bias. Bring me a portable midichlorian counter. Now."
"Affirmative," the AI replied instantly. One of the nearby sentinels shimmered and deployed a floating projection unit. A holoscreen blinked into existence in front of Jin-Woo, flickering once, then displaying everyone's current reading.
Midichlorian Count:
Kadoc: 7000
Ophelia: 7000
Kirschtaria: 7000
Hinako: 7000
Pepe: 7000
Daybit Sem Void: 7100
"…What," Ophelia muttered.
Offensive Bias updated the scan again.
Daybit Sem Void: 7130… 7170… 7200…
"Agent Daybit's midichlorian count is continuing to rise," the sentinel noted, tone as calm as ever. "Currently increasing at a nonlinear rate."
Hinako blinked, then narrowed her eyes and turned to Jin-Woo, incredulous. "Don't tell me you favor Daybit over the rest of us."
Jin-Woo raised both brows. "I gave everyone exactly 7000. That's the average for a trained Jedi Knight. What Daybit's doing? That's not what I planned. He's… pulling more on his own."
Jin-Woo took a step forward—but stopped.
Daybit sat unmoving, deep in meditation, his entire body radiating an eerie, silent pressure. Around him, the Force no longer surged wildly. It flowed. Balanced. Spiraled in a perfect helix—dark and light intertwined .
Inside that stillness, within the marrow of his soul, Daybit was reliving everything.
He saw his death. He saw the moment he was erased from existence—reduced to something less than ash—before that cursed , wooden, angelic artifact pulled his broken atoms back into form. Reconstructed him into something new. Something incomplete..
And the price: Memory.
He could only retain five minutes. Every conversation. Every calculation. Every victory. Every pain.
All forgotten the moment 5 minute passed . And yet, he endured.
He remembered 2012 through the Force .
He remembered standing before Marisbury Animusphere in his office. The tension. The demand:
"Shut down CHALDEAS. Or your life ends here."
Marisbury didn't hesitate. He chose neither submission nor compromise.
He pulled out a gun—and shot himself in the head.
"Between my life's work and my life itself… I choose my work."
The blood soaked his notes. His legacy. His dream.
Daybit remembered staring at the body—not horrified, nor proud. Just still.
Then he turned. And he saw through the Force—through time, through stars, through futures untold.
He saw humanity become something worse than tyrants, worse than beasts. A future of consumption, of arrogance, of stagnation and rot.
And he rejected it. He didn't accept that vision. He decided to burn it.
Back in the present—outside the dome—Jin-Woo's shadow stirred, uneasy.
Offensive Bias reported, voice sharp, pulsing with system urgency:
"Chart reading… now at 10,000 midichlorians. Alert. Agent Daybit has exceeded baseline Force capacity. Current profile approaching theoretical maximum."
The wind moved. The Force shimmered in every direction.
Light and dark no longer fought within Daybit. They flowed around him, like yin and yang. His outline now bore a mirrored hue—half silver, half black , flickering between serenity and annihilation.
Kirschtaria's eyes widened. He took a step forward, voice rising. "Jin-Woo—stop him! I can't lose him again! He's already died once—don't let him burn out a second time!"
Jin-Woo said nothing. His shadow twitched once beneath his feet—but he didn't move.
Kirschtaria's hands trembled. Then—he roared, voice cracking through the swirling Force currents.
"By my Command Spell—Caenis!
Lapithae Caeneus! Use it! Pierce his barrier with every ounce of your magic—hurt him! Hurt him bad if you must! But do not kill him!"
Caenis blinked once in stunned disbelief, then grinned with brutal delight. "Yes, Masterrr!" she howled.
She surged forward, flame igniting along her skin as her spear pulsed with heat. :
"Are you watching, Poseidon!? Nobody will be able to reach my height! I'm spreading my wings—
Lapithae Caeneus!!"
Flames erupted from her body, wings of divine fire flaring behind her as her form blurred into a streak of incandescent fury. She launched—spear first—into Daybit's meditating silhouette.
A concussive echo rang out—like a sun clapping its hands.
But she bounced. Her blazing spear shattered on impact. The Force dome surrounding Daybit didn't ripple, didn't crack. Didn't even register it.
Caenis was hurled backward through the air, skidding across the blackened grass, her armor sparking with friction as she came to a ragged halt—gasping, limbs twitching.
"Sorry, Master…" she groaned, smoke rising from her back. "That Command Spell boost… didn't help much. His dome—it didn't just deflect my Noble Phantasm… it dispersed it. Like it erased the intent before the strike even landed."
Then—Offensive Bias's sentinel floated forward. The readout hovered like a red sigil over Daybit's still meditating form.
"Update: Agent Daybit's midichlorian count has now reached 10,000."
Then—just as Offensive Bias finished speaking—the cocoon surrounding Daybit shifted.
A swirling shell of yin and yang, of light and shadow, solidified into form. Not just Force aura, but something deeper. Something ancient. A harmony not born of Jedi or Sith—but of Daybit himself.
A pressure remained. Still held. Still climbing.
Ophelia's voice broke the silence first. "Skadi-sama, can you…?"
Skadi, already one step ahead, held her wand calmly. "I've prepared for this."
Around Daybit's dome, four massive Primordial Nordic Runes shimmered to life—etched in burning ice, pulsing with divine rhythm.
Each rune locked into cardinal positions, forming a frost-wrought seal as tall as towers.
Skadi pointed her wand skyward. Magic coursed into it—frost, myth, command. Her words came :
"Daybit... I don't know what the hell you've been through. I don't know why your soul burns like this. But worrying your comrades—this—is not the way."
She raised the wand overhead. "Freeze— AND SUBMIT."
A massive storm of cryo-magic descended. Ice, castle-sized, encased Daybit's dome instantly—walls of frost crashing in from all sides with the fury of a dozen blizzards. It didn't freeze the world—it isolated him, like the universe was trying to press pause.
For a heartbeat, all was still.
Hinako leaned forward, squinting. "...Did it work?"
Jin-Woo didn't blink. His eyes narrowed. "No."
And then— CRRRRAAAASSSSHHH.
The ice shattered . Shattered like glass struck by thunder—exploding outward in every direction, jagged shards hurtling into the black sky like meteors.
The rune circle disintegrated. The dome still stood.
Ophelia's brows furrowed as she spun toward Jin-Woo. "Why didn't you just stop him?! Isn't he also your comrade? Without him, you wouldn't have found Tython—!"
Jin-Woo didn't flinch. He looked at her like someone who'd lived a dozen wars. "I interfere now… and he'll be pissed."
"You all don't understand Daybit. He has a mission. Something none of you have seen. Something that must be fulfilled—no matter the cost."
He glanced across the others—Ophelia, Kadoc, Hinako, even Kirschtaria.
"And you all need to keep your mouths shut. You've got no idea what's worse than your alien gods…"
BEEP.
Offensive Bias's sentinel hovered forward, data streaming in red glyphs. "Midichlorian count: 19,000. Daybit Sem Void."
But then… the pressure stopped. The surrounding dome flickered. The cocoon of light and shadow fractured
The cocoon split. Light and darkness peeled back like glass being lifted off a sleeping giant.
Daybit opened his eyes slowly.
Peperoncino immediately ran toward him, arms outstretched, face filled with equal parts relief and frustration.
"Daybit… why didn't you tell me you were this anxious?! I'm your dear friend! You scared the glitter out of me!"
Daybit stood. Calm. Balanced. Focused. "Bias. I already fixed my problem."
Offensive Bias confirmed, "Neurological pattern stabilized. No anomalous short-term memory lapse detected. Core fragments realigned. Agent Daybit… fully restored."