The Heroine is My Stepsister, and I'm her Final Boss-Chapter 57: The Puppeteer and the Marionette

’Okay... I see you...’ Atlas thought, his mind reeling with bewilderment. He had known—or at least suspected—that his existence within this game-world was tied to a deeper narrative, but ’this’? Being an incarnation of some ancient demon Guide?

’Well damn. Color me surprised. So... you’re possessing my body now?wait.... How did you even get in?’

The voice chuckled darkly, its tone dripping with mockery yet oddly warm—like a snake coiled around your neck offering companionship.

{{{It’s thanks to your nice assist by the way. Before my friend cracked you open like a walnut... you gave some of your life force to dear Azezal. And he used up his name and soul to summon me into what should’ve been your empty husk of a body.}}}

Atlas frowned, looking down at his hands as though they might betray him. ’Empty? Wasn’t I still inside it?’

{{{Hahahaha... Yes, surprisingly. I thought I’d finally entered an empty host that could sustain me—but apparently not.}}}

’But...?’

The voice paused, heavy with unspoken thoughts before continuing.

{{{Hmmmm... Something is inside you—or perhaps ’within’ you—that blocked my way. The same thing that kept you alive when Death herself came knocking. Like that little trick you pulled moments ago. Handling your ego just before oblivion swallowed your soul. That bitch must be angry right now, unable to pull your soul for the second time. As was I, thinking I’d have free reign over this vessel. But here you are—a soul fit and fine, your psyche beyond the reach of death.}}}

’...Is it the System?’ Atlas wondered silently.

{{{System? Weird name... but yes, you have gifts—a unique set at that. Hmmmmm... Will I gain these powers if I squash your soul?}}}

’What the fuck!? And here I thought you sounded friendly.’

{{{Hahahahahaha... Child, I’ve killed trillions. I’ve sinned so much no sin can claim me; guided enough that no morality can cage me; saved enough that no virtue can shake me. But your instincts are sharp—you’re right. I saved more than I destroyed, and I’m proud of that. Don’t worry—I won’t squash your soul. Just messing with ya. You remind me of myself when I was young and naive.}}}

’Speaking of naivety...’ Atlas said dryly, narrowing his eyes. ’Your timing feels so fucking calculated. Of all the times you had the chance to possess my body....why now? What exactly are you planning before you return control of my body?’

There was silence—a suffocating void heavier than anything Atlas had felt before. His stomach churned uneasily.

Finally, the voice spoke again, low and deliberate.

{{{For someone so young, your questions are damn well mature. Fine. Since I’m borrowing your body, I’ll tell you. My goal—for now...is to burn this world to the ground. Kill every living soul alike. Take the source of mana and laws and start anew. This world and its rules—the ones I helped create—are flawed. Flawed are the beings who thrive here.

I envision a world without mana or strength. A world under one law. That law being ’me’.}}}He voiced, with sudden aggression.

Arnold blinked—not once, not twice, but three times—his mind struggling to process the torrent of words spilling out from this ancient being. The sheer absurdity of it all made his head spin.

{{{Brother....you will not understand it now but let me make it simplly so.

Here where, only the strongest ego can rule. That’s flawed from the get-go. Ego should not have that power. Ego is a sin itself. Ego is just... is just sooo finite.}}} He spat in frustration, his voice cracking under the weight of disbelief.

Bang!!!

The world trembled violently around him, knocking Arnold off balance as he fell backward onto nothingness.

’...What the fuck was that?’

{{{...Okay, my friend Dracula seems like he started using his Laws. Took his sweet time though.}}} The Guide mused aloud, almost casually, as if commenting on the weather.

{{{Alright then... Arno... No, Atlas. Atlas Von Roxweld, one of my most unique incarnations. That’s it for our reunion, brother. Don’t worry—the world of Infinite awaits us. A realm of true peace, stability, and infinite possibilities lies ahead.

And oh yeah, don’t try to use your ’unique skills’ to witness this war. You’re still weak as hell, and you don’t even have a single Law yet. Not that I’m complaining—you’re young. But try harder, brother.}}}

With those parting words, silence enveloped Arnold again, suffocating and heavy. Yet as soon as Atlas the Beholder, the one called GUIDE faded into quietude, Arnold—or rather, Atlas Von Roxweld —immediately activated his newfound skill: ’Observer Perspective.’ Without a single bit of hesitation.

"Observer Perspective on Atlas the Beholder!" he bellowed, desperate to understand how godlike beings like Dracula and the GUIDE waged their battles. Curiosity agonizing his mind as to what was really happening beyound him. Beyound his darkness.

[Observing Atlas the Beholder!]

His vision shifted abruptly, plunging him into an ocean of malleable colors—dark reds bleeding into deep blues, swirling chaotically like a cosmic storm. And there, amidst the chaos, Atlas bore witness to something beyond comprehension.

Royal demons tore into the pale humanoids like wet parchment. Claws like obsidian scythes ripped through throats, spraying arterial fountains that painted the air in glistening crimson. Jaws unhinged, wider than sanity allowed, crunched down on skulls—pop-hiss-crack—splattering brains like overripe fruit across the mud-churned ground. Guts, slick and steaming, spilled like greasy ropes as talons hooked beneath rib cages and yanked. One demon buried its muzzle in a soldier’s belly, shaking its head like a rabid wolf, showering itself in loops of glistening intestine.

The killing intent wasn’t just felt—it flayed. Atlas’s soul screamed as the demons’ primal hunger washed over him. It reeked of copper, voided bowels, and something deeper—the stench of eternity pissed on and set ablaze.

Against them, the pale soldiers advanced. Blue-hued armor shimmered like infected veins under gore-slick visors. A blade sheared off a soldier’s arm at the elbow. It hit the mud, fingers still twitching around its sword. The soldier didn’t scream. Didn’t stagger. It simply pivoted, jamming its bleeding stump into another soldier’s severed leg socket. Wet, fibrous grinding. Tendons snaked out, stitching flesh to flesh in a grotesque fusion. They fought on—silent, precise, relentless—stepping on the pulped faces of their own fallen.

Thud-thud-thud-thud...

Suddenly, his gaze was drawn upward, transcending everything below until he found himself gazing down upon the epicenter of the carnage. There stood a towering figure—a mature version of himself, hair cascading like rivers of shadow—and beside him, Dracula, bloodied and enraged.

{{{My Law, True Law dictates: Dracula’s head shall shatter reality.}}} The GUIDE declared, his voice resonating with divine authority. With each smash of Dracula’s skull against the fabric of creation, cracks spread outward, tearing apart dimensions like brittle parchment.

Atlas watched as the GUIDE dragged Dracula’s head across realities, shattering them like glass beneath his feet. Each impact sent ripples through existence itself, fracturing worlds with every brutal motion.

Aaa!

Pain exploded in Atlas’s own head, forcing him to clutch at his temples as though they might split open. It felt as though his brain were being crushed under the weight of the universes crumbling around him.

Dracula, now drenched in his own blood, raised trembling hands to write once more upon the air. {{{With the new Law of the GUIDE, I pass this Law of shattering reality from my head to my fist, and may its impact resound true to all I hate.}}}

With the final stroke completed, Dracula reared back, channeling every ounce of fury into his clenched right hand. Then, with a roar that could rend the heavens, he unleashed a punch into empty air.

CRACK!

Reality splintered like shattered glass, sending shockwaves rippling outward. Every demon staggered under the force of the blow, their collective screams echoing through the void. Even the GUIDE faltered momentarily, driven back by the sheer magnitude of Dracula’s wrath.

Some extinguished. Some died at breaking points. Others flew away like ash on the wind, scattering into nothingness. And still others shattered into a thousand irreparable pieces.

And one of them was Atlas himself.

AAAAAAH!

His scream tore through the void, raw and unfiltered, as pain exploded in his skull—a white-hot fire scorching every nerve from his mind to his heart.

[Observer Perspective is shut down!! Host’s Psyche is weak.

Requirement to Observe Atlas the Beholder and be safe:

Brain Points: 1000

Heart: 1200

Mana Nerves: 600]

He crashed back into the darkness he had emerged from moments ago, his body slamming against an invisible floor with a sickening thud. Blood trickled from his nose, dripping steadily onto the cold emptiness beneath him. His head felt like it had been split open and stitched back together with barbed wire, the agony radiating outward in waves that left him gasping for air.

’...WHAT IN THE ACTUAL FUCK!!’ He bellowed, his voice cracking under the weight of rage and disbelief. Every syllable burned like acid in his throat.

{{{....Told you.}}}

That mocking whisper lingered briefly before fading entirely, leaving only silence behind. Atlas remained sprawled on the ground, gripping his pounding head with trembling hands, his heart hammering wildly in his chest like it might burst free at any moment.

’That was sooo fucking raw... Damn.’ Atlas muttered between ragged breaths, his words dripping with awe and horror. ’Talk about a fight. Who the fuck fights like that? That wasn’t a fight—it was breaches of laws of physics.’

His golden eyes stared blankly into the abyss, replaying fragments of what he’d witnessed. The carnage, the power, the sheer disregard for reality itself. It wasn’t just destruction; it was annihilation. Worlds shattering like glass. Realities folding in on themselves. Laws being torn apart like paper.

Like they didn’t care about the laws of physics or any scientific shit at all.

Atlas dragged in lungfuls of nonexistent air, trying desperately to calm his racing heart. Each beat echoed in his ears like thunder after a storm, reverberating through his entire body until he thought he might collapse under its intensity.

’Damn... I’m not... haaa... I’m not ready for this bullshit yet,’ he growled, finally catching his breath. His voice carried a bitter edge, laced with both frustration and fear. For all his bravado, for all his sarcastic quips and dark humor, this was something else entirely. Something far beyond anything he’d ever imagined. freewebnøvel.com

He slumped backward, letting his exhausted body fall limp against the void. Closing his eyes, he tried to make sense of the chaos swirling inside his mind. The images, the sounds, the overwhelming sensations—they refused to fade, lingering like ghosts haunting the edges of his consciousness.

But amidst the disarray, one thing stood crystal clear. Perfectly clear.

’...Destroying the world to its core, huh... And I am his incarnation.’

It didn’t take a genius to connect the dots. Everything fell into place with cruel precision. The storyline. The role thrust upon him. The expectations placed on his shoulders.

This wasn’t just about being a demon destined to die by his stepsister’s hand. This was bigger. So much bigger. It was asking him—to demand of him—to become something monstrous. To walk a path paved with destruction and ego, believing wholeheartedly that he alone knew what was right. That he alone could reshape existence according to his vision.

’If I follow this script... Then indeed... The Heroine is my Step Sister, and I am her Final Boss.....’