The Extra's Rise - Chapter 1100
1100: Weight of Tomorrow 1100: Weight of Tomorrow The holographic map of Earth hovering above the obsidian desk was vast, detailed, and fundamentally different from the one I had studied as a student at Mythos Academy.
It was a map of a healed world, but also a crowded one.
New territories, vast swathes of land once designated as ‘Black Zones’ under the control of the five great dark cults, were now glowing green.
The reclamation projects, spearheaded by Rose’s Vakrt Corporation and the terraforming magics of the Verdanel Greenwatch refugees, had been a miracle.
Land that had been poisoned for centuries was now supporting cities, farmlands, and the new, integrated communities of humanity and the Great Seven.
I zoomed out.
The Moon, once a desolate watchtower, was now a glittering network of domes and orbital rings.
The Cantari and Navarii, species accustomed to the void and the sky, had made it their second home, turning the grey dust into a thriving shipyard and trade hub.
It was a golden age.
It was a miracle.
And it was an absolute administrative nightmare.
“Sign here,” Cecilia said, dropping a stack of documents onto the desk with a heavy thud that shook the hologram.
“And here.
And initial the trade agreement for the Thalassan deep-sea colonies.” I looked up at her.
The Crown Princess of the Slatemark Empire looked tired, but it was a good tired.
The kind that came from building, not fighting.
She wore her imperial colors not as armor, but as office wear.
“I thought saving the world meant I could retire,” I complained, picking up the pen.
It was a fountain pen, heavy and expensive.
A gift from Lyra.
“You saved the world,” Cecilia corrected, a small, amused smile touching her lips.
“Now you have to run it.
That is the price of victory, Arthur.” She wasn’t wrong.
The political landscape of Earth had shifted tectonically.
The power vacuum left by the cults and the influx of refugees required a central, stabilizing force.
And somehow, by accident or fate, that force was me.
Cecilia was the heir to the Central Continent.
Rachel, having fully reconciled with her family and taken up the mantle of leadership, was the designated heir to the Creighton Dynasty, which effectively ruled the northern half of the Northern Continent.
Seraphina, the Frost Sovereign, was the heir to the Mount Hua Sect, the undisputed superpower controlling half the Eastern Continent.
By marrying them in the future-along with Rose, the economic powerhouse, Reika, the martial icon, and Luna, the voice of the future-I had inadvertently become the linchpin of a global empire that spanned the majority of the planet.
I didn’t have a crown, but I had the signature that moved armies and economies.
“Rachel is asking for the surplus mana-condensers for the Northern expansion,” I said, signing the Thalassan treaty.
“Seraphina needs the new alloy shipments for the Sect’s reconstruction of the mountain arrays.” “I know,” Cecilia said, taking the signed papers.
“I already routed them.
You just need to approve the budget allocation.” She paused, her gaze softening.
“You look exhausted.” “I am,” I admitted.
“Fighting Tenebria was easier.
At least she didn’t ask for tax exemptions.” “Go,” a new voice cut in from the doorway.
Alice stood there.
My mother.
She didn’t look like the secret powerhouse who had trained a Divine.
She looked like a grandmother who had just finished baking.
She walked into the office, her presence exerting a quiet, absolute authority that even the Crown Princess respected.
“Alice,” Cecilia greeted her with a warm nod.
“I was just telling him-” “He is done for the day,” Alice stated, walking over and plucking the pen from my hand.
She set it down on the desk with a click.
“The world will not end if the paperwork waits until tomorrow.
We made sure of that.” She looked at me, her eyes filled with that same profound pride I had seen in the Kagu courtyard, but settled now into a deep, contented peace.
“Go home, Arthur.
Stella is waiting.” I looked at the map one last time.
The blinking lights of a thousand cities, human and alien, living together.
The peace I had fought for.
It was secure.
“Yes,” I said, standing up.
The chair creaked.
“You’re right.” I didn’t teleport.
I walked out of the palace, taking a jumper to the private landing pad, and then a simple hover-car back to the penthouse.
I wanted to see the city.
I wanted to see the people walking on the streets, not looking at the sky in fear, but looking at their phones, their friends, their future.
The penthouse was quiet when I arrived.
The sun was setting, painting the Avalon skyline in hues of deep violet and gold.
I found them on the balcony.
Stella was sitting on the wide railing, her legs dangling over the edge of the city, fearless as always.
She was older now, seventeen, her face losing the last of its childish roundness, replaced by the striking, intelligent beauty of a young woman who knew her own mind.
She held a data slate in her lap, but she wasn’t looking at it.
She was looking at the moon.
Standing behind her, a silent, imposing shadow in the twilight, was Erebus.
The Lich King, my oldest companion, stood vigil, his skeletal form draped in fine, dark robes.
He didn’t move, but his purple eye-flames flared in greeting as I stepped onto the balcony.
“Hey, Dad,” Stella said, not turning around.
She knew my step.
“You’re early.” “Grandma kicked me out of the office,” I said, coming to stand beside her.
I leaned on the railing, looking out at the view.
“Good,” Stella said.
“You work too much.
For a guy who can rewrite reality, you’re surprisingly bad at time management.” I chuckled.
“Reality is easy.
Bureaucracy is hard.” She leaned her head against my arm.
“The new grav-lift prototype is working,” she said softly.
“The Navarii engineers helped me with the wind-shear calculations.
It’s going to change how we build cities, Dad.
We can go higher.
We can build without crushing the earth.” “I know,” I said.
“I saw the reports.
It’s brilliant, Stell.” “It’s just physics,” she dismissed, but I could hear the smile in her voice.
We stood there in silence for a long time.
The wind ruffled her hair and tugged at my coat.
The city below hummed, a living thing.
“It’s really over, isn’t it?” she asked, her voice barely a whisper.
“I mean…
really.” I looked at the moon.
I thought of the Demon Lords.
I thought of Alyssara.
I thought of Tenebria, the Void I had filled with Truth.
“Yes,” I said.
“It’s really over.” The glass door slid open behind us.
Alice stepped out, carrying a tray with three mugs of tea.
She didn’t say anything.
She just came over, placed the tray on a small table, and stood on my other side.
Three generations.
The mother who had hidden her power to protect me.
The son who had become a god to save the world.
And the daughter who would build the future with her own two hands.
I looked at Stella.
She wasn’t a warrior.
She would never have to be.
She was an inventor.
A creator.
She was the proof that the war was worth it.
I reached out, putting one arm around Stella and the other around my mother.
I pulled them close.
The Grey Divinity deep within me, the power that could unmake stars, was silent.
It was no longer a weapon.
It was just the foundation that let me stand here, on this balcony, in this moment.
“What are you thinking about?” Alice asked gently.
I took a breath of the cool evening air.
I looked at the horizon, where the sun was dipping below the edge of the world, promising to rise again tomorrow on a planet that was safe, whole, and free.
“I’m thinking,” I said, smiling, “that I finally got my quiet life.” Stella laughed, leaning into me.
“Boring.” “Perfect,” I corrected.
I closed my eyes, listening to the heartbeat of the city, the heartbeat of my daughter, and the silence of a sky with no enemies left to fall from it.
The story was done.
The book was closed.
And for the first time, I was just Arthur.