The Beginning (1)

[PoV: Varro Lazas]

This might be the last time I experience peace, fueled by the dwindling remains of my insurmountable debt. A simple steak and a cup of coffee in an unassuming restaurant. Simple, yes, but the price wasn't. This meal cost 250 Hast—enough to keep me afloat for eight to ten months. Even so, the warnings from the finance agency will continue, a relentless reminder of my overdue loan.

So, after this… after I leave this restaurant, I'll end it all. The regret I've kept locked away for so long will finally be laid to rest.

The restaurant is spacious, the air thick with a pleasant aroma. Lights hang everywhere, illuminating every corner, and the wooden tables are neatly arranged with pristine tablecloths. It looks luxurious, yet it's merely a two-star establishment in a city ravaged by hardship.

My right hand expertly slices through the steak, while my left guides the silver fork, piercing the tender, juicy meat. It's delicious; it's been so long since I've tasted something like this. The last time I had anything close to a decent meal was seven years ago—fried chicken.

Finished, I set down the knife and fork, and sip my bitter coffee. The taste feels foreign, this extravagance. Usually, it's a slice of bread and tap water.

The world doesn't care, no, I shouldn't blame the world. The blame rests on the shoulders of those who perpetuate this suffering, those who prioritize themselves and their sycophants.

My meal finished, I approach the counter to pay. The people and cashier stare at me with disgust—at my scarred face, at my body odor despite the air freshener, even though my white shirt and black pants remain clean. I can't blame them; I haven't showered or properly prepared myself. It's pointless. I'm dying today, unnoticed. I'm tired. Thirty-nine years I've lived in this world, only to be consumed by regret.

As I walk toward the automatic glass doors, they hiss open, sensing my movement.

The highway and sidewalks are shrouded in the darkness of night, illuminated by harsh blue, red, and white neon lights, accompanied by the metallic scent of rust. Scrap metal litters the alleys and corners of buildings. Holographic advertisements showcasing the achievements of noble artists and expensive goods blare from the streetlights.

As I walk, a luxurious car glides past. The window is down, revealing an idealized girl, perhaps eighteen years old. Perfect proportions, sharp eyes, an elegant and captivating demeanor. Her eyes and hair are silver. I don't need to wonder who she is; only one noble family possesses such hereditary genetics—the Arius family.

If only I were born into nobility…

I wouldn't have to worry about anything.

…Fantastic wishful thinking, Varro. Right, the bridge is our destination—

Klang!

A heavy blow to my head, like a metal pipe. I collapse, my vision blurring, the taste of blood filling my mouth.

"Hey, enjoy that fancy meal?"

"Pay your debts, you bastard! The Boss is furious and wants us to deal with you. Looks like you're broke, so we'll just sell your organs instead. Haha!"

Debt collectors? Ha, ha… damn it.

My body screams in pain. They're trying to kill me with iron pipes and sell my organs to settle the debt.

The people around us watch, some indifferent. It's commonplace; this is my reality.

Maybe… this is better. I'll be with them soon—Mom, Dad, and Lira.

One of them raises the pipe, aiming for my skull.

But as the pipe moves, the surroundings become strange. All movement ceases.

Slowly, I push myself up, using my hands for support. As I sit weakly, my eyes fix on my surroundings.

What just happened?

The world is frozen.

But I can still move.

The iron pipe, poised to crush my skull, hangs in the air, motionless. The debt collector's face is frozen in a sadistic expression, eyes wide, lips curled in a cruel smile cut short. The city's noise – the roar of engines, the footsteps of passersby, even the night wind—all vanish. Only a suffocating silence remains.

I groan, my trembling hand touching my injured head.

"You should be dead."

The voice appears suddenly, echoing inside my head. Not through my ears, but directly into my consciousness.

I turn, and there stands a man.

Or, at least, "something" shaped like a man.

He's over two meters tall, his form undefined, smoky, yet glowing a bright bluish color. His face… is absent. Only two pale white orbs of light, perhaps his eyes.

"Varro Lazas," the voice repeats, cold and flat.

I try to stand, but my knees tremble. "Who… who are you?"

"I am something beyond your comprehension. But you may call me 'Guardian.'"

"Guardian of what?"

"Cosmic Guardian."

"Cosmic…Guardian? What does that mean?"

The blue light points narrow, reluctant to explain. "It…"

I stare intently, utterly baffled, my curiosity gnawing.

"Hmph, I figured you'd be a handful," he says with a small smile.

I don't understand. Does he know me? And do I know him?

"Then let me explain."

He raises his hand and snaps his fingers. He takes me to a different place—no, it feels like a different world.

My vision remains frozen, trembling. What world is this? This is insane!

A blood-red sky bleeds into a gray fog. The ground beneath me is like a writhing mass of flesh, seemingly sentient. Above, countless tentacles descend from the fog, attempting to devour life, transforming it into writhing masses of living flesh.

Then, countless pale yellow abstract eyes appear in the crimson sky. Fear. Horror. Madness. Greed. Chaos. Destruction. Evil. There are no words to describe it. It exceeds any feeling or emotion I've ever experienced.

"W-Where are we?!"

I fall to the ground—no, not ground. The surface beneath me is moist, pulsating, like living flesh. I quickly pull away, disgust crawling on my skin. My breath catches, my heart pounding like it will burst from my chest.

"No need to panic," the figure says flatly. "This is merely a projection, a different dimension I've created. Your planet is still frozen."

"Just a projection?!" I scream, my voice cracking. "What the hell is this? What do you mean 'Cosmic Guardian'? Why have you brought me here?!"

The two orbs of light blink slowly. "I am a Cosmic Guardian, from a galaxy far from yours."

He begins to explain: "Cosmic Guardians are authorities granted to those chosen by 'The Cosmic Balance,' an entity that upholds the laws of universal equilibrium. Therefore, where there's chaos, there's hope. We Cosmic Guardians are tasked with this—every civilization must have protection, and I was chosen to protect mine, the Zebers Galaxy. But as you see, one of the planets I guarded…"

The Guardian raises his hand, pointing to the sky filled with tentacles and monstrous eyes that relentlessly watch us. His voice trembles, though expressionless, and I sense despair in his words.

"The planet I've protected with utmost care… has fallen." He gazes at the sky. "Above us… more planets and stars are consumed by 'them.'"

"What… what caused this? And who are 'they'?"

The white orbs fix on me. "These beings… are 'The Devourers'—dimensional predators. They invade worlds, devouring everything living, turning it into part of themselves. I've fought them for millennia, but they are too strong. Even with a Guardian's power, I couldn't stop them."

"Why didn't you ask other Cosmic Guardians for help?" I ask.

The Guardian pauses, the white orbs blinking slowly, seemingly considering his answer.

"Because… there are almost none left in the Zebers Galaxy."

His voice is low, almost a whisper.

"The other Guardians in our universe have fallen one by one. The Devourers haven't only attacked the Zebers Galaxy—they're consuming entire galaxies, entire dimensions. Their existence is unbound by time; they are everywhere, whenever a civilization exists. They are an unstoppable plague. I'm one of the few remaining, and even I…"

He looks at his own hand—or, at least, the form resembling a hand—which is becoming transparent, fading like a shadow.

"I'm almost gone. My power is waning. Zebers is almost beyond saving. But…"

He turns to me, and for the first time, there's something like emotion in his voice.

"...there is still hope for your galaxy."

I'm stunned.

"Your galaxy, Everions. It will soon become the next target. The Devourers will start searching for prey. They will come, and if no one stops them, Everions will end up like this."

I shiver.

"But… why me? I'm nobody. I can't even escape the chains of my own regret!"

"Because you are the candidate."

"Candidate? What candidate?!"

"The candidate to become a Cosmic Guardian."

The air grows heavy. I try to process his words, but it feels like my brain refuses to comprehend.

"You're joking."

"No."

"Look at me!" I extend my arms, showing my tattered clothes, my scarred face, the blood still dripping from my head. "I'm not a hero. I'm not a good person. I'm just a thirty-nine-year-old societal failure who chose suicide because I couldn't bear the suffering!"

"That's precisely why you're suitable."

I'm silent.

The Guardian approaches, his smoky form moving slowly.

"Guardians aren't chosen for their perfection. They're chosen because they understand suffering. Because they know how precious something is when it's almost lost. You've suffered, Varro Lazas. You know what it feels like to lose everything. That's what makes you strong."

I want to argue, but his words pierce me.

"And you were supposed to die today," he continues. "But I stopped time. Giving you a choice."

"A choice?"

"Yes. You can return to your world, let time resume, and die at the hands of debt collectors. Or…"

"…you can accept this power. Become a Cosmic Guardian. And try to save your galaxy, your universe, before the Devourers consume everything."

This is crazy.

This is impossible.

But…

…

[Flashback: 20 Years Ago]

My little sister, Lira, laughs joyfully, holding freshly picked wildflowers. "Varro, look! Beautiful, right?"

I smile, stroking her head. "Yes, very beautiful. Just like you."

She blushes, then suddenly coughs. Blood stains her hand.

"Lira?!"

But she only smiles weakly. "I… I'm fine."

But I knew.

We didn't have money for medicine. No money for a doctor.

And three days later, she died in my arms, at the age of fifteen…

…

[Present]

If… if there's a chance to change things.

If there's a chance to prevent such suffering from happening again… I will do it. I will prevent every child from feeling this kind of pain.

Civilization needs healing, hope needs to be guarded, happiness needs to be preserved.

I sigh. "If I accept this… what must I do?"

"First, you must learn to control the Guardian's power. It's not easy; it can destroy you if you're not careful. Second, you must seek 'Fragments of Balance,' ancient artifacts scattered throughout the galaxy, throughout the universe. They are the key to defeating the Devourers."

"Fragments of Balance?"

"Yes, they are artifacts belonging to Cosmic Guardians. Artifacts given by 'The Cosmic Balance' to each Guardian Cosmic. And what we are looking for are the artifacts left behind by failed Guardians. If you gather enough and extract from them, you will have enough power to protect your own galaxy."

"And if I fail?"

"You already know the answer."

He points to the sky filled with tentacles.

I clench my teeth.

"Alright. I accept."

The Guardian nods, as if knowing what I would ask.

Then, a vortex of light, shimmering like stars, appears beside us.

"W-What is that?"

"It is… the Manifestation of the Cosmic Balance. It seems… he has accepted my request."

The vortex of light expands, radiating brilliance like collapsing stars. I feel a strange pull, as if my entire existence is being ripped from the reality I know.

"Don't resist," whispers the Guardian. "Let it take you."

I close my eyes, feeling my body unravel and reassemble in an instant. When I open my eyes again, we are no longer in that terrifying world of flesh and tentacles. We're floating in the boundless expanse of space—a pitch-black void studded with millions of sparkling lights.

Before us, something indescribable appears.

Its form shifts, sometimes resembling a cluster of galaxies, sometimes a gigantic human figure, sometimes a series of unreadable mathematical symbols. Its voice echoes throughout space, not through the air, but directly into my consciousness.

"Varro Lazas."

I tremble. This… this is the "voice of the universe" itself.

"I have received Dessmond's request, choosing you as the candidate for Cosmic Guardian. However, the final choice is yours."

"The final choice?"

"Accepting this responsibility means you must relinquish all worldly ties. You will no longer be a mere human; you will not have a fixed form, you can change your form. You will become the protector, the watcher, and if necessary, the judge of your civilization."

I'm silent. Relinquish everything?

But… what do I have left to relinquish?

My life is shattered. My family is gone. I have no friends, no future.

But precisely because of that…

"I accept."

"Consider carefully. Once you decide, there's no turning back."

"I have considered. If this gives me a chance to prevent the destruction of the Devourers and the collapse of civilizations because of selfish rulers, then I will do it. I will ensure that others do not suffer the same way I did… I'm willing."

A hum resonates, as if the universe itself acknowledges my words.

"Very well."

Suddenly, the Guardian—I mean Dessmond—emerges from the vortex of light, a glowing orb in his hand. And somehow, he seems pleased.

"Dessmond has agreed to bequeath his power to you, so I hope you will use it well."

"W-What?"

Then, blinding light erupts from the center of the void, and Dessmond thrusts the glowing orb into my chest. I scream—it feels like every cell in my body is being dismantled and rebuilt. My bones burn, my blood boils.

I see everything.

I see the birth of stars.

I see the death of galaxies.

I see civilizations rise and fall in an instant.

And amidst it all… I see "them."

The Devourers.

Beings that transcend time and space. They're not just monsters—they are "concepts." Concepts of insatiable hunger, unavoidable destruction. They are the cancer of the universe.

Dessmond's voice echoes in my mind.

"Congratulations on becoming a Cosmic Guardian, Varro. I hope you can protect every civilization in your home galaxy, and don't make the same mistakes as I did. With the power given by The Cosmic Balance and myself, you have twice the power you should have as a new Cosmic Guardian. With that, you can surely protect your civilization… Farewell, Varro. Protect… this timeline."

.

.

.

[Real World]

When I regain consciousness, I find myself lying on the ground. Cold. Wet.

I open my eyes—the rain pours, washing over my face.

I… am back?

Trembling, I try to sit up. My body feels… different. Lighter. Stronger.

Before me, the three debt collectors lie motionless. But they're not dead—only unconscious, as if put to sleep by something.

And in my hand… something else.

A "mark."

A strange symbol glows pale blue on my palm, shaped like a circle with intricate lines.

The mark of a Cosmic Guardian.

"I…"

My own voice sounds foreign to my ears.

"I'm alive."

And not only that… I now have a "purpose."

"Eh? What's that?"

My gaze falls upon a cube, like a Rubik's Cube, but colorless, just plain metal. But I feel it's not that simple.

...