The Chasmal Seven was what they were called.

A small clan of seven players, they each excelled at a particular craft.

Despite having never grown into a full-sized guild, the Chasmal Seven left a lasting impact on the communities of Phantasm, during the era of their peak.

Cash shop spending aside, their teamwork and dedication rivaled that of professional eSports teams, and surely not a small number of sponsors had reached out to recruit them. However, not one of them ever signed a contract with any team. Even so, their own individual livestreams garnered just as much attention.

And, despite all their crowning accomplishments, the clan started out with just two people: a pair of siblings who had enjoyed Phantasm since its early access days.

At first, the sister only created and registered as a clan to satiate her brother’s obsession with completing a certain category of Achievements. They pooled together some gold that they had earned from selling rare materials and made a small clan, named The Chasm, based in the outskirt of an unpopular map.

As time went on, new people joined and the clan began to gain real life financial benefits.

The name Chasmal Seven began to be a topic of discussion and even appeared on several digital magazines.

However, with the completion of the Palace of the Forgotten, a reconstructed endgame dungeon, came the satisfaction as well as exhaustion. Several members felt like they had finally completed their journeys and decided that it was a good point in time to quit gaming.

Eventually, only one remained.

* * *

“One thousand... you say?”

Rein clutches the pen in his fingers.

“Yes. We did not understand why, or how, it happened. Telepathy could neither extend outside the Palace, nor reach the Progenitors. One of the servants on cleaning duty at the time happened to make her rounds near the Temple and found you resting on the altar...”

Uriel’s face is tinted with a complicated emotion as she recollects the events of many years ago.

Earlier, after meeting with all of the remaining six Keepers, Rein sent Gabriel Diligentia, Keeper of the Second Sphere, to the storeroom, replacing Uriel in her duty of protecting it. She was then called to his office and asked about the period of Rein’s slumber.

She continues after a brief pause to collect her thoughts.

“...the sacred light in the Gem of Preservation having faded indicated that you have died and was revived once again in the Palace. Barachiel stormed out of his domain, filled with rage and fully intending to search for the culprit to the end of the world. However...”

“The anomaly.”

“Yes. The vicinity of the Palace, in its entirety, was shrouded in a mysterious mist. Our attacks had no effect on it, physical or magical. Even Michael and Raphael together failed to dispel it. Thus, we had no other choice but to continue looking after our Lords’ home, the Palace which They built with Their own hands...”

“...And, for a thousand years of our calendar, I lay sleeping in the Temple?”

“Yes.”

“I see...”

Rein wants to calmly think about the situation, but a swirl of emotions throws his thought into disarray. The NPC’s having hopelessly waited a thousand year for his awakening is not at all among the scenarios he has considered.

Every NPC, building, and decoration in the Palace is a precious piece of his friends’ legacy. The mere thought of them hurting for a second pains him, let along a year, ten years, or a thousand years. Furthermore, he is convinced that they also became sentient on that same day, as if to add salt to injury.

“My Lord, faithfully awaiting our master’s return is a duty of the servants; it is what we take pride in. The important thing is that you have awakened. That is all we ever wish for.”

Uriel offers words of encouragement, sensing the conflicting feelings on her master’s face.

“Is that so? I’m glad.”

Rein leans back in his chair. ‘Pull it together!’ he commands himself, seeing Uriel’s rarely seen worried eyes. His sense of responsibility as a corporate worker forces him to gradually calm down. However, the job he is responsible for, this time, is one he considers entirely worth dying to protect.

Looking at Uriel, Rein knows that, comes the day of judgement, he will lay down his life for the Palace and its members.

“My Lord, if I might be as imprudent as questioning the Progenitors...”

Uriel voices her concern with great hesitation in her tone.

“What is it?”

“Where has everyone gone?”

Rein secretly swallows his anxiety. From the moment he discovered that the NPC’s were sentient, he has anticipated this question. Though, he did not expect Uriel to be the first to ask it.

“I have an inkling of the whereabouts of five of us.”

Rein gives it a lot of thought within a few short moments before opening his mouth.

“Have They abandoned us? Was it... our fault?”

Uriel clutches the hem of her white apron, failing to hide the sorrow in her eyes.

“Rest assured that such an assumption is incorrect. The anwer is: they have ascended.”

“Eh...?”

The degree of shock on Uriel’s face seems almost refreshing to Rein.

“I know what you’re thinking, but a tenth ascension, the Final Rite, is possible.”

‘Except nothing like that exists in the game.’ Rein steels his resolve and pushes forward.

“To- To think that the Progenitors have reached an even higher being!!”

Uriel brings her hands together, as if praying, and exclaims in joy.

‘I’m sorry, Uriel. But they actually just quit gaming and went on with better lives than my own.’

Of the Seven, Rein is the only one unable to part with Phantasm and its virtual world. As the result, he perceives himself to be the only inferior member of the group: one with no family, any other friends, or a special someone.

Thus, came the idea of their final, greatest ascension, to a realm that Rein, in real life, only dreams of reaching.

“You have my permission to relay this information to the members of the Palace. Let them know that they were never abandoned. You simply cannot go where my comrades have gone.”

“Yes, my Lord! Everyone will be ecstatic to find out that they are the servants of such divine beings!”

“I’m proud to be their... equal, as well.”

Rein feels a twinge of shame as he used the word ‘equal,’ but he feels it is imperative that he maintains his standing, now that the NPC’s are sentient, and that he has told Uriel about the ‘final ascension.’

“...But, my Lord. You said, ‘Five of us.’”

“Indeed. My dear friends W4neW4ker, Seventytwopaths, Mt.Everesting, Riririchochet, and C0replayz have all ascended. And so, you must be curious about my sister?”

“...Yes. I am merely concerned that we stopped hearing from Lady Pixelaurent even before the ascension of the other Progenitors.”

“Right. The truth is: she died.”

“......eh?”

“I told Selaphiel this as well: Pixelaurent simply does not permit anyone but myself to know the cause of her death. Though, as leader of the Palace, I cannot keep you completely in the dark. So I will tell you that she did not die of an enemy’s attack. In fact, she passed on without a scratch on her body. Naturally, Selaphiel is also aware of this.”

“...Right. Lady Pixelaurent always gave me a new outfit whenever we met...”

“True. She is the Palace’s best designer.”

Droplets of tears fall onto Uriel’s skirt.

“I- I apologize for losing my composure, my Lord.”

Uriel wipes away the tears and sits with her back straight. Her face has returned to normal, but her eyes are red and swollen.

“No. It is nothing to apologize for. However, the truth about Pixelaurent will remain a secret for now. When asked about my sister, the answer that you and Selaphiel will be: I do not know. When the right time comes, I shall reveal it to everyone myself.”

“Understood.” Uriel bows.

“Now then, Uriel, this parchment here contains your next tasks. However, before that, deliver this second parchment to Gabriel. That is all.”

“Yes, my Lord. It will be done.”

Rein watches the door closes behind Uriel’s disappearing figure. The familiar sound of the knights’ armour rattling as they salute precedes an empty silence that goes on for much longer than usual.

“If she’d survived until the day I killed Yuragor... Heh, no amount of cancer would affect her in here...”

Rein mumbles to himself as he finally begins flipping through another data book.

* * *

A large man in full body armour sat in his extravagant chair, four dark wings sprouting from his back. Through the gap in his helm, a pair of crimson eyes were slowly shifting left and right, following lines of text.

The parchment he held in his hand contained the orders of his Lord, whom he respects and reveres.

“Augustus.”

His heavy, raspy voice echoed throughout the room.

“My Lord.”

A slender figured emerged from the shadow in response to Gabriel’s call.

Augustus was a Darkelven man, two heads shorter than Gabriel, whose features suggested a gentle personality. The way he dressed resembled that of a travelling pilgrim or scholar. Yet, the sharpness in his gaze rivaled that of expert marksmen.

“Send out the recon squad and bring me every detail about our surroundings. I will request cartographers under Michael as well; use them well. The Lord wishes to learn everything about this foreign place.”

“Understood. Then, I shall excuse myself.”

Gabriel waved his hand and dismissed Augustus.

Left by himself, Gabriel carefully rolled up the parchment and put it away, securely on a shelf. Despite his massive hands and fingers, Gabriel did not lack the dexterity to organize documents without knocking over other items.

He turned around and followed the rays of sunlight with his eyes, until he saw the blue sky outside the window. It was a rare sight. So much so, he had not seen it for a thousand years. The fog shrouding over the Palace was always in the way, while the combined efforts of all seven Keepers could not dissipate it, even a little.

However, that was only the case until yesterday, when their master finally awakened from his millennium slumber. Gabriel was sharpening his sword in this very room, when the fog suddenly cleared up, once again revealing the light of day.

As a warrior who worships his Lord Rein’s valor in battle, Gabriel could not help but see that as a symbol of renewed glory. He had been in a good mood ever since.

“Morthoth and Yuragor... The foes that went to battle against Lord Rein and had the gumption to use a petty trick on Him. One day, I shall find you and slay you with these divine blades, forged by Lord W4neW4ker, the Godhammer, himself!”

Gabriel unsheathed and brandished his twin longwords toward the sky. His crimson armour rattled to the movements of his thick arms.

——knock, knock.

Gabriel quietly exhaled and returned his swords to their sheaths.

“Enter.”

“Greetings, Lord Gabriel, Keeper of the Second Sphere”. I, Yr Gharni, am honoured to be in your presence.”

A short-statured man entered the room and kneeled before Gabriel.

At first glance, he did not possess any outstanding feature. His appearance was nothing more than an ordinary man. However, what caught Gabriel’s interest was the white sash wrapped around Yr’s head, completely concealing his hair, forehead, and eyes.

Yet, Yr walked in a perfect straight line and picked the correct place to kneel.

“Mm. Are you one of Michael’s subordinates?”

“Indeed, my Lord. Though I am lacking in battle, I was fortunately chosen to be one of Lord Michael’s direct subordinates by Lady Seventytwopaths. A humble cartographer that I am, my ‘battle’ takes place before any battle.”

“I see. A mapmaker’s fight does indeed begin before any other fight. There is no need to belittle yourself. Your expertise will be much needed. Join my recon squad and be of use to Lord Rein.”

“With pleasure, my Lord.”

And so, Yr Gharni, alongside the recon squad under Gabriel’s authority ventured forth into the vast world beyond the fog.