Tyler finished packing everything into his storage rings and stood for a moment at the edge of the street, letting his gaze wander across Leafrest Town one last time.

He had no intention of staying any longer.

Between the demon that had already tried to take him once and the strange girl who insisted that he is Richard, the town had become an unnecessary complication. None of it posed an immediate threat to his life, but experience had taught him that lingering around unresolved variables was a bad habit —one that usually ended with blood or trouble, sometimes both.

So he decided to leave. Immediately.

He adjusted the strap of his pack and took a step forward—

"—The mortal disaster is coming!"

Tyler stopped.

An old man stood in his path, blocking the street with his frail body. His clothes were little more than rags, layered in mismatched fabrics that looked as though they had been scavenged from refuse piles. His beard was unkempt, his hair matted and gray, and his eyes were wide with a feverish intensity that bordered on madness.

"The Demons will engulf everything," the old man continued, his voice trembling with urgency. "The apocalypse is nearing..."

Tyler looked at him carefully.

Tyler heard about these types of madmen before. Prophets, lunatics, failed fortune-tellers — according to the receptionist many cities always had at least one. Usually more. Most of them repeated the same lines, recycled from old myths or half-remembered legends, shouting at anyone who would listen.

Still, something about the man’s gaze gave Tyler pause.

It wasn’t wild in the way madness usually was. There was fear there, yes— but also certainty. The kind of certainty that came from seeing something you couldn’t forget.

The old man finished speaking, then abruptly turned away and latched onto the sleeve of a passerby, repeating the same warning with identical words and cadence.

People reacted predictably.

Some laughed. Some frowned. Others slowed just long enough to listen before shaking their heads and moving on. A few whispered among themselves, wondering where this lunatic had come from and how long it would take before the guards intervened.

Tyler stood still, watching.

Demons swallowing everything? he thought.

He couldn’t reconcile those words with his own experiences. The demons he had encountered were dangerous, yes— but not apocalyptic. Not to him, at least.

Then again, Tyler was keenly aware that his perspective was... skewed.

He had leveled far too quickly. His growth was abnormal, even by the standards of this world. Well Most people didn’t possess something like the Infinity Copper Pot.

Before he could dwell further on it, armored guards pushed through the crowd.

They grabbed the old man by the arms, one on each side, and began dragging him away.

"The Demons will swallow everything!" the old man shouted as he struggled weakly. "The end is coming!"

His voice echoed down the street before fading into the distance.

The crowd dispersed almost immediately.

People returned to their routines. Shopkeepers resumed shouting prices. Children ran past, laughing. Whatever tension had briefly existed dissolved as if it had never been there.

Tyler exhaled quietly.

A lunatic, he decided. Or someone who saw too much and broke.

Either way, it wasn’t his problem.

He resumed walking. But only after talking few steps he stopped.

"—The mortal disaster is coming."

Tyler stopped dead.

The voice came from directly in front of him.

The same old man stood there again, blocking his path with the same wild eyes, the same ragged clothes, the same words spoken in the same tone.

Tyler’s eyes narrowed.

He turned his head sharply and looked back over his shoulder.

The street behind him was empty of guards. Empty of the crowd that had gathered moments ago. There was no sign of the old man being dragged away.

When Tyler looked forward again, the old man was gone.

"What the hell...?" Tyler muttered.

He stepped around the spot where the man had stood and continued down the road.

"The mortal disaster is coming. The Demons will engulf everything."

Tyler felt the words brush against his spine.

He turned.

The old man was again there.

His pace slowed.

He deliberately took a different street this time, cutting through a narrow lane lined with warehouses and closed storefronts. The buildings were unfamiliar. The people passing by were not the same ones he had seen before.

There was no way this was a simple loop.

"The mortal disaster is coming..."

The voice came from behind him again.

Tyler stopped.

This time, he didn’t turn around.

Not a time loop, he concluded. And not an illusion tied to location.

That left only two possibilities.

Either someone was deliberately targeting him—

—or this wasn’t a "someone" at all.

He spun around and lunged forward, grabbing the old man by the throat.

The man appeared instantly in his grasp, eyes bulging in shock.

"Help! Help!" the old man screamed. "He’s trying to kill me—"

A faint glow pulsed beneath Tyler’s sleeve.

A sound isolation array activated silently.

The old man’s screams vanished the moment they left his mouth.

A few passersby glanced over, startled to see Tyler gripping an old man by the neck, but no cries reached them. Murmurs rose, but no one intervened.

Tyler didn’t care.

He tightened his grip just enough to assert control, staring directly into the old man’s eyes.

"Who are you?" Tyler asked quietly.

There was no answer.

The old man’s form flickered—like smoke caught in a gust of wind.

And then he vanished.

Tyler’s hand closed on empty air.

He stared at his palm for a brief moment.

Then—

"The mortal disaster is coming."

"The mortal disaster is coming..."

"The mortal disaster is coming..."

Another voice. Then another. And another.

Old men stepped out from every direction, emerging from alleys, doorways, shadows cast by awnings. They were identical— same face, same clothes, same expression, same words spoken with eerie uniformity.

They surrounded him.

"The mortal disaster is coming."

"The Demons will engulf everything."

"The apocalypse is nearing."

Tyler stood at the center of the street, surrounded by copies of the same man, his expression unreadable.

"Interesting," his mouth twitched.