“Okay, I heard your wish, but every wish comes with a price. First, I’ll take your name. Second, I’ll take your face. At the third wish, I’ll take your fear. If you still don’t mind, that is. If you’re still fine with it, I hope luck is with you.” Silence fell between us, but our reasons for staying silent were different. I kept my mouth shut, waiting for an answer, while the Constellation with emerald hair and gray-colored eyes bit their lower lip, not knowing how to respond. “But I don’t know either,” they said, their breath carrying poison. “I can’t remember what I look like. Even if you say you’ll figure it out it’s impossible, Mr. Death King. That’s... that’s just impossible. Even I can’t remember the words I used to speak or the clothes I wore. How can you find something that doesn’t exist anymore?” The Constellation murmured for a long time, letting out the poison that had been trapped in their lungs for a long time. “I can’t find who I used to be because I abandoned myself many years ago. Not even you can find me, Mr. Death King.” “I can. It would probably be difficult to find the real you. Even if you think you’ve found it, there’s no guarantee that it’s really you. It’s like trying to find the South Pole in the middle of a snowfield with no equipment and then planting a red flag in a random location.” I stroked the Constellation’s cheek. “But you don’t need your original self.” [Endless Universe is active.] A white outline appeared. The ink peeled away, and ■ crumbled once again. Another metal bar that hid the Constellation broke. “I don’t think finding your original self will bring you happiness,” I said. “Why do you think that?” “You abandoned it. There must be a reason for that,” I replied with a faint smile. “I don’t know where you were born, what you went through as a child, what emotional scars you have, or what embarrassing things you did. I don’t know any of these small things.” These things couldn’t even be considered trauma, so it would be difficult for me to see them even with my Skill. Orıginal content can be found at 𝓷𝓸𝓿𝓮𝓵✶𝕗𝕚𝕣𝕖✶𝓷𝓮𝓽 “But I know what you like and how much you like them.” The Constellation loved adventure. The life they loved was where they chose their own path, crushed enemies alongside their chosen companions, endured perilous dangers and true suffering, and overcame near death crises to keep moving forward. They loved that kind of life so much that they had given up their name and face to achieve it. “You like me,” I said. The Constellation liked me so much that they were willing to lose their very existence by using their third and final wish. “Then please choose the face you want to show me. I’ll see you as you want to be seen. Does anything else matter? You like me and love adventure. You’ve come this far chasing what you love and letting go of unnecessary burdens.” “You haven’t lost yourself.” “You came here to find the self you desire.” I smiled. “Everyone is on a journey. In this room, among the thirteen square meters lies an infinite desert.” The Constellation trembled and looked at me. [Endless Universe is active.] Yes, I was using the Endless Universe’s power to create this world. Just as the Constellation before me had brainwashed me, I had now become this person’s Constellation, showing them the world. “A fox cub, born in the desert, has nothing to drink and nothing to play with. When the wind blows at night, the hills disappear and the valleys fill in. Every night, the fox loses its home. The children of the desert are incapable of loving themselves since they are born. But the night sky...” The Constellation looked up. [Endless Universe is active.] Relying on my imagination, Endless Universe spread the vast night sky above our heads. In the barren desert, we could see the stars scattered across the sky when we looked up. “It’s okay,” I whispered. “I won’t fool you. The children born where there is no signpost have no choice but to navigate using the night sky as their map.” The world came to life, and the journey of a young fox began. “All that can be heard is the dry rustling of desert sand and the parched wind. The fox walks, piling sand into its heart.” I smiled. “It’s okay. The fox walks because it has nothing. The food is always unsatisfying. Sandy wind has brushed everything that grows in the desert. When the fox bites into the food, grains of sand stick to its lips. No matter how much it eats, its thirst isn’t quenched. Something is accumulating in its once-empty heart, but it isn’t starlight from the night sky; it’s dry sand. Is the fox becoming the desert? “The grains of sand covering the world are countless and infinite. Every evidence of life that has been dying on this land will form the longest river. Countless will die in the future. Is the fox merely one grain of sand among the already infinite sand? The desert is still a desert. Everywhere it looks, it only sees death. Everything is dying. The fox has nothing to eat but is thirsty. When crossing the desert, it can sometimes see cacti standing like telephone poles, so it picks a cactus. The fox knows there is water inside. Water is the only comfort that will quench the thirst that feels like death, but the cactus’s thorns are sharp.” The Constellation’s choked murmuring echoed around the room. “... To protect a handful of water... in this sandy hell... it has grown so many thorns...” I added, “The fox weeps as it tears at the cactus. Its paws are bare, so the thorns pierce them. The thorns’ sharp edges cut its toes, making them bleed. Its skin is also pierced, but if it doesn’t drink, it’ll die. The fox will die, so it cuts the cactus’ flesh.” “And it drinks every last drop,” I said. “With the thorny water, the fox quenches its thirst and can walk a little further, but its throat begins to hurt because of a sharp thorn that remains stuck there. The fox has to pay the price now. The cactus hasn’t forgotten to seek revenge on the animal that drank its life. After taking the first two sips of water, the fox realizes that maybe it’s the one who is creating this desert. It buries its nose in the cactus flesh, but the fox now suddenly looks up at the sky. The sun hurts. Until now, the fox has been wondering why the world is a desert and where it came from, and it thinks that it’s probably because the sun is hot. Perhaps the gravest sinner in this desert after the sun is the fox.” A tear dripped down the Constellation’s cheek. “Ah...” My voice was quiet. “It killed so many cacti.” “It once even cursed the cacti, asking why they couldn’t become an oasis.” The Constellation tried to wipe away their tears. “To the ones that grew thorns to protect even a drop of their water, the fox breaks their black thorns and asks why they wounded its paws, though it’s their thorns that are blackened by its dried blood. As the fox walks on the sandy path, the thorns scatter, turning the desert more barren.” “... No. No, Mr. Death King. I...” I continued, “The fox’s throat hurts.” “No! I-I didn’t do anything wrong.” “It ate too much sand and swallowed too many thorns.” “Why...?” the Constellation asked, their voice hoarse. “But that was all it had.” “Please save me. Someone, please save me. There’s nothing here. I have nothing left,” I uttered. “The only thing that the fox is used to is breaking the thorns. Now the fox can drink the cacti without getting hurt, although it isn’t sure if that is something to be proud of. Not bleeding is proof that the fox is now an adult. At some point, the fox realizes that it has become skilled at surviving in this desert.” “It has also gotten used to drinking water. The trick is to cut a cactus in half. It didn’t have to pull out all the thorns, either. Just one or two. Three, at most. Then the fox just has to peel off the skin where the thorns were and drink the juice—taking just a little bit of pleasure. The fox won’t be in pain, and the cactus won’t die, either. There are no sinners or corpses.” The Constellation shut their eyes. “I hate it!” “The fox is just thirsty. This thirst can never be quenched. It grows little by little inside the fox until it’s as strong as its heartbeat. One night, it vomited. What came out wasn’t blood but sand.” “Looking back, what the fox thought to be the stars in the night sky were actually dead grains of sand. The dead sand just shines under the sunlight. This desert and the night sky are nothing but graves. After walking through the desert for thousands of years, the fox finally looks up at a star and slowly exhales.” “I... hate this world.” Their breath was poisonous. “It’s boring. No, it’s meaningless. Why? Why is it meaningless? Why can everyone else laugh? What is supposed to be fun? There is nothing. Everything is lacking. Everyone lacks something. Why are they here? Why do they keep staying there? How? T-this world has nothing. I’m sick of it.” The question the Constellation probably wanted to ask was why they had nothing. [■■■■ ■■ ■■■■ ■■■ ■■■■■.] [■■■■ ■■ ■■■ is using the Endless Universe.] “You’ll make me happy, won’t you?” Before I knew it, an oasis appeared at the fox’s feet. “Right?” the Constellation asked again. In the mirror of the desert, the unwounded white sand was wet with water. With each wave, the grains of sand rustled softly. I didn’t answer the fox right away. As I walked through the oasis, wading through the shallow water that barely reached my ankles, I turned back to the fox, grabbed their shoulders, and squeezed. “Yes, it’s okay to drink from me.” The fox, startled by the touch, lowered their head and looked at the water’s surface. I said, “If you take a sip today, I’ll get more water while you sleep, day after day, until the day I dry up.” The fox’s reflection could be seen in the transparent mirror of water, which looked like it could shatter immediately upon touch. Their face, their glittering golden fur, and their gray eyes were reflected in the mirror, even their ■. I held the fox’s back, supported their shoulders, and whispered, “So, please tell me your name. Let me see you. Show me the face you want me to see and the name you wish me to say. Please decide. If you do, I’ll be your oasis for as long as you want.” ■ fell from the fox’s face, and black rust dripped down. The place where the liquid rust had dripped down turned pitch black. The oasis became slightly murky, but the water was still clear enough to swallow the rust that the fox had shed, reflecting their face clearly. It was a relief. “I brainwashed you. I shattered your memories. I tore apart the voices you heard and blocked every touch that reached you. Yet, you still—” I stroked the fox’s head. “I told you. It’s okay. My daughter is the Demon King who killed me hundreds of times.” I could pet them without telling a single lie. “My son is a warrior who challenges me to a duel whenever he’s bored.” I was relieved that I could do that. “My lover once pierced my heart with her sword. Brainwashing? Memory manipulation? I’m sorry, but that’s nothing. I don’t hate someone just because they hurt me,” I said, offering a smile. Silence fell between us. After a moment, the fox said, “But Yoo Soo-Ha—” “Can we talk about that later? It’s better if you don’t mention him at all. Um, anyway, can you tell me your name?” Silence fell, but our reasons for staying silent were different once again. I stayed quiet to wait for the Constellation’s answer, but they bit their lower lip because they were unsure how to answer. The young fox, now with golden fur and gray eyes, slowly exhaled and said, “My name is ■■■■ ■■ ■■■...” Their lips, reflected on the water's surface, moved slightly. The fox seemed to ponder the syllables they could choose. The young fox considered the spaces the world had given them, then suddenly looked down at the reflection of their gray eyes. The fox nodded. “Yes.” The rust finally peeled away from the fox’s beautiful face. The ink smear vanished from their face, the thorns melted from their voice, and the sand washed away from their heart. “Music Box,” the child of the desert said. “I’m Your Exclusive Music Box.” [Your Exclusive Music Box is using the Endless Universe.] The desert collapsed like an hourglass flipped upside down. The sand that had formed an endless horizon fell downward, disappearing into the depths. “I’ll sing for you, Mr. Death King.” [Endless Universe is active.] “As long as you’re my oasis, I’ll sing only the notes you engraved. I’ll become and remain an instrument that only you can play. I’ll know only one kind of music.” Their golden fur settled. I held the paw of the fox, the child who was going to be my god. “Yes, you’re the only Constellation I’ll serve from now on.” [Your Exclusive Music Box is your Constellation.] [You are the sole follower of Your Exclusive Music Box.] In a desert oasis barely thirteen square meters big, I made a contract with a gray-eyed fox.