Reencounter: Part II
Ugh—!
The heavens and the earth lose their color as the battle erupts. Everything around you breaks apart and rebuilds again as the laws of the world begin to collapse. But the fighting does not stop. It goes on with no end in sight.
The golden towers that once held up the sky now lie in ruins, shattered by fire and steel. The Sanctuary's awe and grandeur are gone, but the rules it created still cling to the world, refusing to fade.
Blood pours from Nirvatia's chest. You and the Four Horsemen drive her back, step by step, until she reaches the edge of the throne where the remains of the Cardinal Deity once rested. She still refuses to surrender. She raises her head and shouts down at you.
Maybe my method isn't perfect. But all of you know it's the only way to break the stalemate!
If you oppose me just because you don't like my method, then you're the ones dragging the Scorched Borderland into ruin...
This land doesn't need a hero to hand out justice. It needs a complete revolution.
You've all been scarred by tragedy. So why—
You step onto the long staircase. The Four Horsemen follow close behind you.
Don't get me wrong. I'm not here to tell you to let go of your hatred or anything like that.
I just believe revenge shouldn't come at the cost of innocent lives.
Lilith flicks a playing card straight at the ruined throne behind Nirvatia. The sharp, square-edged blade brushes past Nirvatia's cheek and slices off a long strand of her hair.
Are we done talking? Gray Raven, since her obsession started because of you, it should be you who ends it.
Vera has had enough of the arguing. She plants her dual-bladed lance into the ground and tells you what to do.
Gray Raven, do what you believe is right.
We've got your back. We'll fend off any attackers.
...7345. Nirvatia, it's time to sleep.
Wanshi lifts his lantern and walks slowly toward the Night Sovereign, who now kneels in a sorry state beneath the throne.
You can't do it. I've never had a single dream in my entire life...
Nirvatia, in this dream, you will meet your true self.
His voice is calm and firm. The cold edge in it leaves no room for resistance.
You should sleep now.
As soon as the words leave his mouth, Nirvatia's body collapses like a butterfly slipping free from its web. She falls into a deep sleep.
A soft breeze moves across the open field. Wind chimes ring.
The crystal-blue sky glows with dazzling gold, as if the world is suspended in the dreamlike moment before dawn.
Awakening to a sea of blossoms, the girl opens her eyes and sits up, the scent and color of spring wrapping around her.
Have I finally reached... this dream?
What a long journey it's been.
To reach this dreamlike field, she has endured countless trials and suffering.
I'm sorry. To make it this far, I've done terrible things I can't justify...
Nirvatia lifts her head and gazes blankly toward the horizon.
I won't defend what I've done. But if, after everything, I can reach this place and see you again...
Then I don't regret becoming a demon, even for a short time.
But now, all her pain finally ends.
At last, she can set down her scythe and become again the kind and innocent girl she once was.
Nirvatia walks through the endless field of flowers. She searches for those she could never meet in her dreams before.
Since this place looks just like the scene from her dreams, she believes they must be here. Sooner or later, she will find them on this plain.
This is the narcissus plain, the legendary land where the souls of the kind-hearted gather, where fallen heroes may one day meet again.
In the blink of an eye, the entire world changes.
The fresh, fragrant meadow turns into rotting earth. The flowers in her arms have withered completely, though she doesn't notice when it began.
Thick red water seeps from the rotting flower stems. The overripe blossoms suddenly burst open, spraying foul-smelling liquid across her face. This reminds her of many moments from her past—ones that feel all too familiar to what she's experiencing now.
She turns at the sound of the strange voice. A familiar figure stands in the distance.
This is your true dream. Have you forgotten everything you've done?
You crave blood. You'd give up anything to reach your goal. That's who you really are.
No... That's not... me...
Faced with a long-lost version of herself, she instinctively steps back.
Forgotten it all? Then let me help you remember.
The younger Nirvatia smiles and lifts her hand. The world flips, twisted into another reality.
Wait, kid. Hear me out. I'm not like him, I swear!
Yes, I was forced! I didn't mean to kill your mother. They threatened my girl. If I failed, they said they'd hurt her...
If I let you live, you'll just go on and hurt more people. Isn't that right?
That was a lesson. I learned it. Now I'll return it.
Aaaaaaghhhh!!!
Why... would you...?
Why would you attack a child?!
I will never forgive you. Even in Hell, I will hunt your souls forever!
Across all Three Realms, there will never be a place for your souls to rest!
From a detached, third-person view, she finally sees herself clearly for the first time.
Back then, the expression on her face had always been one of satisfaction—
Not sorrow, no. It was the look of someone who'd realized she could fight back against the injustice fate had dealt her, and who had then lost herself in the joy of killing.
And yet, she had never even realized it.
You thought that by imitating a human, you could become one yourself?
The younger Nirvatia walks toward her, step by step. And all the excuses she'd used to justify herself now crumble, completely exposed before this other version of her.
What a shame. But you can stay here forever.
You are a demon. All your noble talk about saving humanity is just an excuse to indulge your twisted pleasure.
Here's some advice: just kill the Bloodsworn. Once they're gone, the Four Horsemen will vanish, and all your troubles will disappear.
I won't let you do that!
Is that true?
The young girl's dress flutters in the foul, blood-scented wind. And amid the carnage, she smiles—a smile that could almost be called sincere.
Nirvatia, I am you. Why do you deny the truth of your own soul?
Following Pestilence's guidance, you wait until Nirvatia is fully asleep, then enter her dream.
You follow a pitch-black, suffocating path. After walking what feels like forever, you finally catch a faint glimmer of light ahead.
As you emerge from the dark void, you realize you're standing in the heart of a city—one that feels both familiar and foreign.
But it's not quite the battlefield where you once faced Death of Iron. This one is older, more worn down, and somehow, it fills you with a strange sense of nostalgia.
Gray Raven... Commander of the Iron Army.
You look up. A girl floats outside the window, light as drifting duckweed. Her eyes, full of longing, are fixed on the sleeping version of herself.
What if I try to become... a human, like you?
Could I dream of something like this, too?
She lifts her hand, pressing her fingers against the glass as she whispers something under her breath.
Then I'll try to become someone like you, a human.
You stand there, silently watching. And then, as if jolted awake within a dream, everything suddenly connects in your mind.
As for the answer, Gray Raven, that's for you to figure out.
What could make a demon want to change? Want to be good? I'm leaving that answer in your hands.
Gray Raven, please... stay with me...
Now I finally understand... what this world can't afford to lose are humans like you.
Or...
Do you still believe, like you used to, that sacrificing yourself is the only way to make the world better?
That's right. After all this time, you've finally seen the true nature of Nirvatia's soul.
At the far end of the dream, a pitch-black raven perches atop the city wall. He gazes down at you, his eyes reflecting a cold, piercing light.
The voice and tone are exactly the same as the magical raven pet you once knew, yet the calm authority in its presence feels utterly unfamiliar.
You ask hesitantly.
I'm Morigan, but not the one you know.
The raven shakes his head, and for the first time, you see a composed stillness in his eyes.
I am the Demon Lord Morigan from Nirvatia's memory—nothing more than a phantom shaped by her mind, unable to exist outside this dream.
But within this dream, I can do anything.
Why? Haven't you seen it? That girl was born a demon. Power and slaughter are all she knows.
She once tried to become "good" by imitating you. But ever since you first died, her actions and her heart have been torn apart—a rift she still can't close.
You're human. You can't stay by her side forever, or keep being her guiding light every time she gets lost.
Gray Raven, you're nothing more than a ghost, summoned from her obsession with the past.
Well, then.
Kid, I've never actually dealt with you before, but you're exactly like the "you" that exists in her memories.
Don't expect me to answer that. I can't stand sentimental talk.
Morigan flaps his wings and lands on your shoulder. For the first time since arriving in the ruined Sanctuary, you feel that long-lost sense of fighting side by side again.
Enough talking. I'll get you to Nirvatia, but whatever happens next, you're on your own.
I'm busy, alright?! This dream's still intact only because I'm holding it together!
The raven shoots you a glance, not to scold, but with something almost like nostalgia.
Oh, before you go, there's something I need to warn you about.
The moment he finishes speaking, a massive black rift tears open in front of you. A wave of warped gravity spills out, threatening to devour the entire dream.
And that is—
Before you can even react, the raven smacks you straight into the void with one powerful flap.
Stop flicking my forehead all the time, dammit! You'll regret it someday!
During that fall—both brief and endless—you drift through the depths of Nirvatia's memories.
You see a blood-stained girl being torn from her mother's arms by Sanctuary soldiers, dragged before the tribunal to face judgment.
You witness how, after a long passage of time, she was crowned the "witch" amid cheers—just to earn the right to live with her head held high.
You see her sitting in a ruined field of flowers, cradling your corpse. In her desperate search to revive you, she devours the souls of her own kind, becoming a Demon Lord.
At the end of the fall, you find yourself once more in that vast sea of flowers.
Yellowed narcissus sway over a field stained with blood, and the foul wind carries withered petals through the air.
Nirvatia kneels at the center of the corrupted field, bowing over a corpse whose face is too mangled to recognize.
You shouldn't have been able to recognize that corpse. Her face has been torn apart in a fit of violent emotion. Yet the moment you see the plain school uniform on her body, you instantly understand what happened here.
Gray Raven...
She lifts her head in a daze, staring at you as you walk toward her across the sea of flowers.
I think "she" was right.
I always resort to strength to fix everything.
The moment I heard "she" was going to steal my mind and kill you all, my body reacted before I could even think...
By the time I came to my senses, my hands were already covered in blood...
You brush aside the flower stems and slowly approach the blood-stained girl. Looking into her eyes, after all these years, you finally give your long-delayed answer.
For what reason?
You stand before Nirvatia and reach out your hand to her.
...
She closes her eyes as countless futures flash before her, showing every possible fate of this land.
She sees them all, and recognizes the despair required to reach each one.
Can you bear to give all this up?
Cardinal Deity's residual will turns into static, echoing in her ears.
Nirvatia, this is the best ending you could ever achieve.
Miss this chance, and you'll return to who you once were—helpless, powerless, unable to do anything.
The whispers circle around her ears, threatening to drag her fragile spark of hope back into darkness.
She opens her eyes again, and once more sees the familiar blue sky.
You stand before her, shouting with all your strength.
The bright daylight spills across the field, and she remembers the "beautiful dream" she once had, lying on a plain years ago.
Is this just another daydream, or a future truly within her grasp?
She doesn't know. But the pain in her chest feels painfully real.
I...
Yes. Deep down, she's always known the answer. She never needed to ask again.
Yet to reach that truth, she took a long, winding road full of mistakes.
A calm strength fills her heart as she reaches her hand toward you.
Then let's change it together.
Gray Raven, take me to the future you've chosen.
Years later, the people of the Scorched Borderland call the long night that ends the "Eternal Daylight" the Eve of Daybreak.
During that endless night, everyone seems to fall into a dream that never ends. But when gentle sunlight pierces the sky the next day, they realize with disbelief—
A pale golden sun rises on the far horizon. It may look ordinary now, but back then, it was a miracle, returning to humanity after thirty long years.
People weep and shout with joy. They run through the streets, believing the Supreme Heaven has finally shown mercy to this land.
But soon they realize that when the Eternal Daylight ended, Nirvatia, the Night Sovereign, vanished as well, along with the angels of the Sanctuary and the demons of Hell.
After becoming a deity, the witch who claimed the powers of both the Cardinal Deity and the Lord of Death suddenly opens hundreds of star gates, for reasons no one knows, sending angels and demons into the depths of the cosmos.
When the star gates close, every figure within the ruined Sanctuary vanishes.
Even you, the Gray Raven, and the Four Horsemen of the Apocalypse, once famed across the continent for countless heroic acts, disappear without a trace.
"The Gray Raven and the Four Horsemen couldn't bear to see the world suffer, so they chose to sacrifice themselves, perishing with the Night Sovereign Nirvatia." Such tales spread quickly across the borderlands.
Matches for sale! Cheap matches! Please take a look!
Many years later, on a snowy night, a little girl crouches in a street corner, pitifully calling out to sell her matches.
But the people passing by move quickly. Hardly anyone notices the small figure in the corner, or the faint sound of her voice.
Matches for... never mind. I should just go home.
She lets out a sigh, her breath turning white in the cold. She blows into her palms, rubbing her frozen fingers to bring back warmth.
A shadow suddenly stands before her. She looks up and sees a figure in a gray-black hood standing at her stall.
The figure's face is hidden by the hood's shadow. Snowflakes gather on the bridge of their nose, yet they make no move to brush them away.
After all these years, this city still hasn't changed at all.
You didn't seriously think all our problems would magically disappear once the angels were gone, did you?
Don't rush. We still have much to do.
(yawns) The snow's heavy tonight. I'll buy all these matches... Go home early, alright?
The people following the cloaked figure chatter endlessly. Before the girl can even react, a heavy pouch of Mammon coins is pressed into her hands, and the man dressed as a doctor pockets every last box of matches.
W-wait, sir, this is too much...
The cloaked figure, walking at the rear, turns back and smiles at her.
The four figures ahead keep talking among themselves.
The place where the main temple and the star gates fell... people now call it the "Sanctuary Ruins"?
Yeah. If we hurry, we can reach it before the snow covers the road.
How did that thing scatter so far when it fell? Had I known, I would've gone easier on it.
Gray—no, Commandant. Do you need us to bring anything?
Perfect.
The snow keeps falling, heavier and heavier. Their voices fade into the swirling snowflakes until not even an echo remains.
A hero who leads them... and the Four Horsemen...
In the end, they perished together with the Night Sovereign who tried to destroy the world...
No way. That's just a story people tell to fool kids.
The little girl shakes her head, pushing the legends out of her mind. Then she turns and walks home.
You place a pure white narcissus on a tomb made of broken bricks and shattered tiles. Gently, you brush away the frost gathered on the "holy throne."
This graveyard, born from the fall of the Sanctuary's main hall, remains a place of dread. People fear that Nirvatia, the Night Sovereign, might one day rise again from the underworld. That's why almost no one dares to come near.
The fragile narcissus blooms alone in the cold wind, its stem trembling beneath the falling snow, yet it never breaks.
...Gray Raven, do you really think that woman, Nirvatia, is gone for good?
Vera leans against the wall and turns her gaze toward you.
That distant, warm, faint heartbeat, you know it too well to mistake it.
But you shot her in the chest back then, and she gave up her powers as both the Cardinal Deity and the Night Sovereign to open all the star gates above the Sanctuary.
And after so many battles, she probably didn't have much strength left...
When you brought Nirvatia out of the dream, she quickly realized her divine power was no longer enough to rebuild the laws of reality.
To save the Three Realms she had made a mess of, her only choice was to drive both angels and demons away from the Scorched Borderland.
...Don't look at me like that. I'm just going on a short trip, that's all.
She gathers the last of her strength, releases your hand, and walks alone toward the star gate that opens into the vastness of space.
I was going to return this heart to you... but traveling alone feels a bit lonely, doesn't it?
Her figure is soon swallowed by the white light surging from beyond the gate. In that radiance, she smiles, bright and gentle, like a blooming narcissus.
Then, until we meet again, let me keep your heart with me.
Next time, find me again, before fate does.
But who really knows what happened? Maybe she's still out there, just not willing to face us as the person she used to be.
Watanabe's words pull you back from your thoughts. Your blurred gaze slowly focuses again on the white narcissus before you.
You still have questions, but the confusion in your heart is gone.
Vera chuckles, pushes herself off the wall, and takes the first step forward.
Lilith opens her Moon Umbrella and follows.
Wanshi raises his lantern high, casting warm light on the path ahead.
Alright, let's go.
No more words are needed. After a brief rest, they set out once more on their long journey of rebellion.
The road ahead is going to be rough. Still, they press on.
Because this is why they turned away from the underworld. The reason they're still holding on.
Even in a world without gods or angels, I still wish you a happy holiday, from the bottom of my heart.
A soft whisper brushes past your ear. You turn toward the sound, but there's no one on the white, silent snow.
Still, you stand there, staring into the endless snowfield.
What's wrong? You're lagging behind. Should we leave without you?
At those words, the Four Horsemen exchange glances, then nod together in silent agreement.
