Urduja gripped the helicopter controls so tightly that her knuckles had turned pale. The aircraft shook violently as it sped through the sky, weaving between ruined skyscrapers and drifting clouds of smoke rising from countless fires below. Her breathing had become uneven long ago. Every time she tried calming herself, the image of that crimson mantis cutting apart the battlefield replayed in her mind.

The memory refused to leave.

It was not merely because the creature was powerful.

Power alone would not have frightened her this much.

The true source of her fear came from what that display represented.

The hierarchy of power after the apocalypse was not something ordinary survivors understood. Most people classified monsters simply as weak or strong. Some lucky survivors might eventually learn about Mutated Beasts, Undead Kings, Parasitic Evolvers, and the countless horrors hidden within the red mist.

Urduja knew far more.

She had lived through it.

She had seen things that ordinary people would never witness.

She had survived long enough to watch humanity rise, fall, rebuild, and collapse repeatedly under the pressure of increasingly terrifying lifeforms.

And because of that knowledge, she understood exactly how absurd the creature she had just witnessed truly was.

The helicopter continued racing through the sky while she recalled memories she wished she could forget.

During her previous life, Emperor-level Mutated Beasts were legends.

No.

Calling them legends was an understatement.

They were disasters.

Natural disasters given flesh and intelligence.

Every single appearance of an Emperor-level Mutated Beast would trigger continent-wide panic. Entire human factions would abandon cities. Armies would mobilize. Parahuman organizations would gather their strongest members.

And even then, victory was never guaranteed.

One memory surfaced.

A gigantic serpent emerging from an ocean trench.

The creature had been so large that satellites could track its movement from orbit. Entire naval fleets disappeared attempting to stop it. Cities located along coastlines were swallowed beneath tidal waves generated by its movement alone.

Another memory followed.

A colossal eagle whose wings covered kilometers of sky.

Whenever it descended, shadows would consume entire regions. Missiles could not reach it. Fighter jets became toys in front of it. One flap of its wings generated storms capable of flattening modern cities.

Then came another.

And another.

And another.

Every memory carried blood.

Death.

Destruction.

Humanity had spent years fighting creatures at that level.

Years.

Countless heroes had died.

Countless strongholds had vanished.

Yet what had she just witnessed?

A crimson mantis.

A creature that casually killed something she already considered a King-level Mutated Beast.

Not merely defeated.

Not wounded.

Killed instantly.

The distinction mattered.

King-level creatures were already considered regional disasters during the early stages of the apocalypse.

Even in her previous life, obtaining the opportunity to kill one was considered a major achievement.

The giant anteater should have become one of the rulers of the surrounding region.

It should have required tremendous effort to bring down.

Instead, it died before the battle even started.

The memory made her stomach twist.

"No..."

Urduja muttered under her breath.

The helicopter’s engines roared louder as she pushed the machine harder.

"No... no... no..."

The situation made no sense.

Everything was wrong.

The timeline was wrong.

The growth rate was wrong.

The strength was so much.

The treasure she had acquired should have changed many things. She had planned carefully. She had prepared. She had believed she could use her knowledge to gain an advantage. Yet somehow, an Emperor-level creature had appeared anyway. Not years later. Not months later. Now.

The realization made her chest feel heavy.

A frightening possibility slowly surfaced.

What if the future she remembered was no longer reliable?

What if something had changed so drastically that her previous-life knowledge was becoming worthless?

That possibility frightened her more than the mantis itself.

Her eyes briefly glanced backward.

The battlefield had already disappeared beyond the horizon.

Fortunately, nothing seemed to be pursuing her.

The crimson mantis had ignored her helicopter for some unknown reason.

If it wanted her dead, she would already be dead.

That much was obvious.

The thought brought little comfort.

After all, being spared by something terrifying did not make it less terrifying.

Urduja exhaled slowly and forced herself to focus on flying.

One thing remained clear. Whatever existed in that direction had become a place she needed to investigate. Not immediately. Not recklessly. But eventually.

Because if an Emperor-level existence had truly appeared this early, then the balance of the entire future had already changed.

...

Far away, completely unaware of the storm currently raging inside Urduja’s mind, Clayne remained standing near the shattered opening of the building while staring at the crystal his mantis had brought back.

The yellow-green crystal looked beautiful.

Almost mesmerizing.

Spiritual energy continuously circulated inside it.

Even without touching it, Clayne could feel the difference compared to ordinary crystals.

The thing practically radiated power.

Meanwhile, beside him, the newly named mantis appeared extremely pleased with itself.

The creature sat on the floor while happily chewing chunks from the crystal.

Crunching sounds continuously echoed through the room.

Every so often, Scytherion would pause, look at Clayne, and then continue eating with even greater enthusiasm.

The behavior reminded him of a puppy waiting for praise.

Eventually, Clayne laughed.

"You’re awesome."

The response was immediate.

Scytherion froze.

Then its entire body straightened.

Its chest puffed outward.

Its wings vibrated.

The creature practically glowed with happiness.

The telepathic connection became flooded with pride.

"Strong."

"Very strong."

"Master saw."

"Master impressed."

Clayne shook his head.

"You killed that thing instantly."

Scytherion nodded fiercely.

The creature looked absurdly smug.

Then another thought entered the connection.

"Name."

Clayne blinked.

The mantis immediately stopped chewing.

Its draconic eyes focused entirely on him.

"Name."

The thought came again.

Then again.

Then again.

The creature clearly had not forgotten their agreement.

Clayne rubbed his forehead.

At first, he had simply planned to choose a name randomly.

Now that the moment had arrived, however, it suddenly felt difficult.

"Hmm..."

Scytherion waited patiently.

For approximately three seconds.

Then it became impatient.

"Name?"

Clayne thought for a moment.

"What about Blade?"

The mantis stared.

Silence.

"Terrible."

Clayne coughed.

"Okay."

"What about Crimson?"

The mantis looked offended.

"No."

"Red-Cutter?"

The creature visibly recoiled.

"Awful."

"Dragon-Blade?"

The mantis looked unconvinced.

"Sounds old."

Clayne stared.

"You have opinions?"

The mantis nodded.

"Good opinions."

What followed was nearly twenty minutes of increasingly ridiculous suggestions.

Every time Clayne proposed something, the mantis found a reason to dislike it.

Eventually, after exhausting countless ideas, Clayne finally sighed.

"Alright."

The mantis immediately became attentive.

"How about..."

He paused.

Then the name surfaced naturally.

"Scytherion."

For a moment, the mantis froze.

Then excitement exploded through their connection.

The creature launched itself into the air.

It flew circles around the room.

Then flew another circle.

Then another.

Eventually it landed again and nodded repeatedly.

The answer could not have been clearer.

It loved the name.

Clayne smiled.

"Then Scytherion it is."

The creature looked immensely satisfied.

Several minutes later, however, another concern surfaced.

Clayne’s gaze drifted toward the horizon.

One helicopter had escaped.

The thought immediately bothered him.

What if it returned?

What if people discovered his location?

What if the military bombed the school?

The more he thought about it, the more uneasy he became.

Eventually he looked toward Scytherion.

The mantis was still chewing happily.

"Why didn’t you kill the last helicopter?"

The chewing stopped.

Scytherion looked confused.

Genuinely confused.

The creature tilted its head.

Then another wave of thoughts entered the connection.

"Huh?"

The response sounded completely sincere.

Scytherion blinked several times.

Then pointed one blade toward the distant sky.

"Master."

Another pause.

Then the thought arrived.

"You have baby in there."

Clayne froze.

The smile vanished from his face.

For several moments, the room became completely silent.

Then he slowly turned toward the helicopter’s disappearing direction.

His heart suddenly skipped a beat.

"...What?"