The Extra's Advent: My Villainess Fiancée is a Yandere

Chapter 161: Genesis Calamity

"Sovereign?"

’What? What did I just say?’

I blinked. My own voice echoed in my ears, but the word that left my lips wasn’t the one I had intended.

’Hah. What the actual hell?’

’Am I so nervous that I’m speaking whatever comes to my tongue?’

I took a slow breath, forcing my racing heart to calm.

’Calm down, Nicolas. You’re spouting nonsense at the most important moment of your life.’

I glanced at Lunara. She was still walking toward the kitchen, her back turned to me. Her white hair swayed with each step. She didn’t seem to have heard me.

’Good. She didn’t notice.’

I cleared my throat. Took another breath. Called out again, a little louder this time.

"Sovereign!"

Only then did I realize.

I wasn’t speaking nonsense.

I couldn’t call her name.

’Why?’

I stared at my own hands as if they held answers. My mind raced. Caught on impossible questions that had no place in my rational world.

’What is going on? How is this even possible?’

No. No, it couldn’t be. I gritted my teeth and tried again. I forced my voice louder, sharper, desperate.

"SOVEREIGN!"

The word tore from my throat. It was the loudest I had ever spoken. And it was still the wrong word.

My heart sank at my own words.

I watched her back. She didn’t turn. Didn’t react. As if the word had never reached her. As if I had spoken into empty air.

I sat down slowly. The world felt unsteady, like the ground had tilted beneath my feet.

’Is this even real?’

’Is this even possible?’

’Am I dreaming?’

...

Days passed.

I tried again and again. Every time, without exception, I failed. The word "Lunara" never left my lips. What came out was always "Sovereign." Every single time.

Strangely, she never seemed to hear me when I called her that. She never turned. Never reacted. As if the word simply didn’t reach her ears.

’Maybe that’s good as well.’

I couldn’t call her name. And she couldn’t hear me when I called her Sovereign.

This whole thing was strange. Truly strange.

I was not someone who believed in supernatural things. Ghosts. Curses. Magic. That was all fiction. Just stories for children and lonely adults. I had never believed in any of it.

But now, I had no choice but to believe.

The evidence was right in front of me. In my own voice. In her silence.

I didn’t even know what to do.

Should I tell others? What if they called me mad?

’Wait... am I really going mad?’

’Is something wrong with me?’

’No. No, I’m not.’

’I’m fine. Yes. I am perfectly fine.’

Even though I tried to calm myself, once that thought arose, more questions surged into my mind like an unstoppable flood.

’What if... just what if...’

’Was everything a dream?’

’That girl. The money. The past three years. Everything I experienced was just a lie.’

I shook my head. I forced those thoughts aside.

I knew that wasn’t true. I was overthinking it.

...

Months passed.

I still couldn’t call her name. Every time I tried, the word "Sovereign" forced its way out instead. But that didn’t stop me. If anything, it made me more determined.

I was going to confess my feelings. I was going to tell her how I felt, even if I couldn’t say her name.

I spent weeks thinking of possible methods. Ways to express what was in my heart without needing to speak her name.

I could roleplay. Call her "my lady." "My queen." Anything that didn’t require me to say "Lunara."

I practiced in front of the mirror. I whispered to myself at night. I wrote and rewrote speeches in my head.

But every time I stood before her, the words died in my throat.

Not because I was afraid. Not because I didn’t mean them.

But because I knew. The moment I opened my mouth, that one wrong word would come out. And she wouldn’t hear it.

So, I waited. I planned. I gathered my courage.

And finally, I decided.

I would do it on top of a mountain. Under the setting sun.

...

We climbed the mountain together.

The path was steep, winding through ancient trees and scattered rocks. She walked ahead of me, her white hair catching the wind like a banner of silk.

I followed, my hand brushing against the small ring box in my pocket.

It wasn’t an engagement ring. Not yet. Just a small token. A promise of what I wanted to say.

We reached the summit just as the sun began to set.

The golden light spread across the sky, painting the clouds in shades of amber and rose.

The world below us stretched out like a living canvas, mountains and valleys and rivers all glowing under the dying light.

It was beautiful.

She stood beside me; her red eyes fixed on the horizon. The wind played with her hair, and for a moment, she looked like she belonged to the sky itself.

I took a deep breath.

My finger traced the small ring box in my pocket.

’This is it.’

I opened my mouth.

But then... the whole earth shook.

The ground roared beneath my feet, a deep and terrible sound that seemed to come from the heart of the earth itself. The mountain convulsed beneath us, shaking so violently that I felt it in my bones.

I stumbled, my hand instinctively reaching out for something to steady myself, but there was nothing. Only air. Only the violent trembling of the world.

Rocks tore themselves free from the slope and tumbled downward, bouncing against the stone like shattered teeth.

Dust rose in thick clouds, swallowing the path we had just climbed. The sky, which had been painted in gold and amber moments ago, flickered.

The colors bled into each other, warped, twisted, as if reality itself was struggling to hold its shape.

Then I saw it.

A pillar of dark light descended from the heavens and embedded itself into the earth. It was impossibly massive, so tall that I couldn’t see its highest point.

It was a... black pillar.

It stretched upward, piercing through the clouds, through the sky, as if it had descended from somewhere far beyond the stars themselves.

The impact sent a shockwave rippling across the land.

I felt it in my chest before I heard it. A deep, resonant tremor that rattled my bones. The air itself seemed to thicken, pressing against my skin, pushing against my lungs.

The wind howled like a wounded beast, tearing through the trees, bending them until they snapped like twigs.

In the distance, I heard screams. Distant and faint but unmistakable.

People were dying.

I didn’t know how I knew. I just did. The shockwave had claimed many lives. Buildings collapsed into piles of rubble. Roads cracked and split open.

The earth beneath my feet groaned under the weight of whatever had just descended upon us.

For a long moment, I stood frozen. Paralyzed.

I couldn’t move. Couldn’t think. Couldn’t do anything but watch as the pillar of dark light remained embedded in the earth, unmoving, unblinking, like a monument to something I could not understand.

Beside me, Lunara stood still.

Her white hair whipped in the wind. Her red eyes were fixed on the pillar. Her face was unreadable.

I looked at her. For the first time in years, I saw something in her expression that I couldn’t name.

...

The news spread like wildfire.

The pillar I saw was not alone. There were eight others. Nine pillars in total, scattered across the world.

Each one is driven into the earth like a nail through the skin of the planet.

The sky turned red.

Not the warm red of sunset. Not the gentle red of dawn. A deep, unnatural red that refused to fade.

It was the color of dried blood. The color of a wound that would not heal. The red sky remained, even though it was already night.

Then suddenly... the nine pillars shook.

I saw it from the mountain. A tremor ran through the pillar in the distance. Then a beam of light shot upward, tearing through the clouds and disappearing beyond the red sky.

Then the other pillars followed.

One by one, each pillar shot a beam of light into the sky. And then, from above, the beams connected.

They spread out like veins, like roots, like a web being woven by an invisible hand.

A net. A massive, humungous net that covered the entire earth.

I watched it from the mountain. The red sky was now crisscrossed with lines of light, pulsing faintly, like the heartbeat of something vast and ancient.

I didn’t know what was happening.

But I knew one thing with absolute certainty. A deep, sinking feeling that settled in my chest.

This was not the end of anything.

This was the beginning.

Beside me, Lunara muttered, her voice barely above a whisper.

"Nine pillars of Annihilation... the beginning of Genesis Calamity."

______

[A/N: Unedited Chapter.]