Baby System: I'm the Beast World's Only Hope!-Chapter 357: Episode 355: He Revealed Himself!

Blackness. Absolute, suffocating blackness.

There was no pain. The tearing agony in her body, the crushing weight of the blood-soaked linens, the agonizing cries of her newborn child, it was all completely, entirely gone.

Roxy floated in a silent, temperature-less void, completely unmoored from the devastating reality of the Iron-Wood Manor. She felt nothing. Her heart wasn’t beating, her lungs weren’t drawing air. It was the absolute, perfect stillness of death.

Is this it? she thought, her consciousness drifting sluggishly. Am I going to find Ren now?

But the universe, it seemed, was not entirely finished torturing her.

Without a single microsecond of warning, the serene, silent void violently shattered. The sensation of falling hit her like a physical blow, a terrifying, stomach-dropping plummet through empty space.

Roxy hit the ground hard. The impact knocked the breath completely from her lungs, scraping her bare arms against rough, unforgiving terrain.

She gasped, her brilliant green eyes flying open. She was no longer in the master bedroom, nor was she floating in the dark.

She was lying in the dirt, completely surrounded by a towering, incredibly dense thicket of twisted, thorny bushes. The sky above was not the crisp, snowy blue of the Beastworld winter; it was a sickly, bruised shade of violent violet and angry red. The air was thick, heavy with the scent of ozone and burning ash.

Before her brain could even begin to process the bizarre, hostile environment, a deafening, terrifying roar echoed through the brush. It sounded like tearing metal and crushing stone, vibrating directly through the soles of her bare feet.

Suddenly, a hand shot out from the thicket and violently yanked her arm.

Roxy shrieked, stumbling forward as she was aggressively hauled to her feet.

Standing before her, her clothes torn and her face smeared with dirt and terror, was a completely strange woman. She didn’t have the animalistic traits of a Beastworld shifter. She looked entirely human, her dark eyes wide with sheer panic as she looked over her shoulder toward the roaring sound.

"Girl, what are you doing there?!" the woman screamed, her voice shrill and desperate. Her grip on Roxy’s wrist was like a vice. "Run, or you would be dead!"

"What?! Who are you?!" Roxy demanded, completely disoriented, her head spinning wildly. "Where am I?!"

The woman didn’t answer. She simply yanked Roxy forward, plunging directly into the dense, thorny brush.

Roxy had absolutely no idea what was happening, but the sheer, primal terror radiating from the stranger triggered her own adrenaline. She allowed the woman to drag her away, her bare feet pounding against the jagged rocks and twisted roots.

Sharp thorns tore at her clothes and scratched her skin, but the deafening, metallic roars behind them were growing louder, closing the distance with terrifying speed.

They ran blindly through the bruised, red-lit nightmare.

But Roxy’s body was heavy. Even in this strange, surreal dreamscape, the phantom exhaustion of her brutal labor anchored her limbs. Her lungs burned. Her legs felt like they were cast in solid iron. Every step was a monumental, agonizing effort.

She was stumbling, constantly losing her footing, entirely unable to keep up the frantic, sprinting pace.

"Hurry up!" the woman shrieked, yanking Roxy’s arm so hard her shoulder popped.

"I can’t!" Roxy gasped, tripping over an exposed root and falling to her knees, dragging the woman down with her. "I... I just gave birth... I can’t run..."

The woman scrambled back to her feet, looking down at Roxy with a mixture of pity and absolute, survival-driven ruthlessness. The roaring sound was practically on top of them now, the ground violently shaking.

"You are too slow!" the woman cried out, her eyes wide with terror. "I can’t die for you!"

Without another word, the stranger violently ripped her hand out of Roxy’s grip. She turned and bolted into the thickest part of the brush, abandoning her completely.

Within seconds, the woman disappeared into the shadows, leaving Roxy entirely alone in the hostile, alien wilderness.

"Wait!" Roxy screamed, pushing herself up from the dirt.

Panic completely consumed her. She forced her heavy, agonizing legs to move. She ran on her own, entirely blindly, crashing through the undergrowth, her breath tearing through her throat in ragged, desperate sobs.

She didn’t know what was chasing her, but the dread of it spurred her forward.

She burst through a particularly thick patch of thorns, and immediately stumbled.

Her foot caught on something large and solid lying hidden in the tall, bruised grass. Roxy pitched forward with a startled cry, crashing heavily into the dirt.

She groaned, rolling over and pushing the hair out of her eyes. She looked back to see what had tripped her.

It was a body.

A man lay entirely motionless face-down in the dirt. He was dressed in torn, dirty trousers, his torso completely bare. But it was the hair that made Roxy’s heart violently stop in her chest.

It was stark, blinding, ethereal white.

"Ren?!"

The name ripped from her throat in a desperate, shattered scream. The nightmare, the strange woman, the terrifying roars, it all completely vanished from her mind. Roxy scrambled forward on her hands and knees, completely ignoring the thorns tearing at her palms.

She grabbed his heavy shoulders and violently hauled him over onto his back.

It was him. The pale, translucent skin, the sharp jawline, the beautiful, tragic face that had completely faded away in her arms just hours ago. He wasn’t breathing.

"No, no, no, not again!" Roxy sobbed hysterically. She threw herself over his chest, her hands immediately flying to his neck to check for a pulse. "Ren! Wake up! Please, baby, I’m right here! Wake up!"

She frantically pressed her hands against his sternum, absolutely determined to save him this time. She pumped his chest, her tears falling freely onto his pale skin. She leaned down, pressing her lips to his to force air into his lungs, desperate to reignite the immortal spark of her trickster.

The body violently arched beneath her hands.

Roxy pulled back, her green eyes wide with a massive, overwhelming surge of relief. He survived! His chest heaved as he drew in a massive, ragged breath of the bruised air.

"Ren! Oh my god, baby—"

But as the man slowly opened his eyes, the words died entirely in Roxy’s throat.

They were not the vibrant, mischievous, and fiercely devoted emerald-green eyes of the Fox King. They were a piercing, cold, and utterly terrifying shade of red.

Right before her terrified gaze, the face she loved so dearly began to shift. The jawline sharpened. The cheekbones grew unnaturally high. The rugged, chaotic beauty of the Beastworld trickster was violently erased, replaced by an impossibly flawless, unearthly, and uncomfortably perfect face.

The torn, bloodied trousers instantly dissolved. The air around him shimmered with digital static, and suddenly, he was draped in opulent, flowing purple robes laced with heavy, intricate gold threads.

Roxy froze in horror.

This wasn’t Ren.

Roxy scrambled backward, kicking the dirt as she desperately tried to put distance between herself and the unearthly being. The strange man slowly sat up, smoothing the front of his luxurious purple robes with elegant, impossibly pale fingers. He looked at her, his silver eyes completely devoid of warmth, calculating and amused.

Roxy didn’t wait. She spun around, her bare feet digging into the dirt, entirely determined to run back into the thorny brush.

But she didn’t even make it a single step.

The air violently hitched. The man moved with an impossible speed that completely defied the laws of physics. Before Roxy could even take a breath, an arm, cold, hard, and possessing an absolute, unbreakable strength, whipped around her waist, gripping her firmly.

Roxy shrieked, thrashing wildly against the hold.

The bruised red sky, the thorny bushes, and the dirt ground instantly violently shattered like broken glass.

The next moment, the world snapped back into focus.

The jarring transition forced Roxy entirely off balance. The iron grip around her waist vanished. She stumbled forward, her knees hitting a smooth, freezing-cold surface with a painful crack.

She gasped, her head spinning wildly as she looked around.

She was no longer in the wilderness. She was kneeling on a pristine, polished floor of white marble. The room was colossal, stretching upward into massive, vaulted ceilings lined with glowing, crystalline chandeliers. It was a space of absolute, intimidating divine luxury.

Roxy knelt there, the cold seeping into her bones. She felt incredibly exposed, vulnerable, and entirely foolish kneeling in her dirt-stained clothes in the center of this immaculate hall.

A soft, echoing chuckle brought her head snapping up.

Directly in front of her, perched upon a massive, imposing throne carved from solid, dark-purple crystal, sat the man.

He lounged casually, his legs crossed, resting his chin elegantly on his knuckles. His flowing purple robes pooled around the base of the throne, and his stark white hair cascaded perfectly over his shoulders.

His eyes looked down at her, glittering with a cold, absolute arrogance.

She didn’t stand up, but her posture went completely rigid. She lifted her chin, her brilliant green eyes glaring daggers directly at the man on the throne.

"What do you want?!" Roxy demanded, her voice echoing sharply off the marble walls, completely devoid of fear. "Where is he?! Where is Ren?!"

The man slowly leaned back against the crystal throne. He let out another soft, elegant laugh, the sound perfectly melodic but entirely devoid of human empathy.

"Fascinating," the man mused, his voice smooth and commanding, echoing with a strange, metallic duality. "Even when you are kneeling directly before me, entirely at my mercy... you still ask for that character."

Roxy’s brow deeply furrowed. Her brain snagged on the specific, bizarre vocabulary he had just used. That character. Not that beast. Not that King.

"Who are you?" Roxy breathed, her voice dropping into a whisper.

The man smiled. It was a flawless, terrifying curve of his lips. He uncrossed his legs and leaned forward, looking down at the Queen of the Iron-Wood with absolute, omnipotent authority.

"I am the Architect of the baby system."