Colors rarely seen on the surface pushed away the darkness of the No Offspring Tomb. It was the aftermath of the Specter’s hair, which was brighter than gold and closer to infinite light, fluttering alongside the fragments of the broken mask. 

The first humans—the Specter was the ‘standard.’ 

The Gods of the Beginning took her as the model when creating human women. This fact didn’t impress the Specter in any way. The Specter was nothing more than a being created using Rebecca as a model. However, the Specter fought for humanity. She didn’t feel sorry for the humans, but she tried to save them. 

It was for a simple reason. She was the apostle of the great gods. That was all. 

“My ideology. The reason why you can’t sympathize with me... I understand.” 

Her efforts to restore hell—she was weighed down by the huge responsibility she shouldered alone and endured it without getting frustrated. It wasn’t because she loved humans. The Specter simply understood and carried out God Yatan’s will. It was different from Grid. 

Therefore, the Specter noticed at this moment what she hadn’t understood. She peeked at the myths that Grid had built up and realized it. All of Grid’s myths had a connection. Affection for someone was contained in it. 

“What I lacked... was everything to you.”

What the Specter saw was the ‘future.’ Even if it meant sacrificing the present, she wanted to restore hell...