Nacht: So that’s how it is.
In this place, there’s no miasma that is a source of my power. On the contrary, this place is overflowing with an annoying power completely opposite to mine.
Which is called — life.
Which is called — healing.
Which is called — purity, cleanliness, purity, trimness, holiness, divinity. All of those are swirling here.
Nacht: Don’t you… mess with me.
A crack runs through the eyeball of Nacht as he says it. From the red eyeball, the red liquid gushes out.
Yes, it’s red. And it’s filling the whole world with this color, up to the top.
Again and again, red, red, red, red — it paints over everything with so much red that it turns black.
Which is called — death.
Which is called — destruction.
Which is called — pollution, humiliation, sludge, chaos, disgrace, plunder. With all of those…
Nacht: ...gha…
At this moment, something like a black lightning runs through the Nacht’s insides.
Yes, that’s it. This killing intent I remember so well that I want to vomit out all my intestines.
That time. That time. When was it? That time.
When was it? When was it? When was it? When was it? When was it? When was it? When was it? When was it? When was it? When was it? When was it? When was it? When was it? When was it? When was it? When was it? When was it? When was it? When was it? When was it? When was it? When was it? When was it? When was it? When was it? When was it? When was it? When was it?
A person able to answer a question that I kept asking myself was there.
Yes, he was there.
With a sound akin to a metal switch, Nacht’s consciousness falls into the darkness.
In my mind, someone’s voice resounds.
A fleeting dream is coming to an end. According to the prophecy, the time has come for you, who are tied to the lost Paradise, to break free from this prison.
The thousand years have long passed.
It is time to throw away your chains.
Now and there, I will grant you a sword that cuts all the shackles.
Access — My Sin.
And when the thousand years are ended, Satan will be loosed from his prison.
With that, my beloved friend, let us fulfill Zoar’s oath together.
Ryle: …
It all happened instantly. To fast to understand, too abrupt, a mysterious event occurred in a span of a second.
And in the next second, another mystery emerged.
Suhl: Gh-a-a-a-a-a-a!
The roar of Suhl, who already became an empty husk, resounded as if piercing the dome.
Suhl: Agh-a-a-a-a!
With a cry no longer resembling anything of a human language, he looked at Nacht… no, at Ryle, and rushed forward with all his might.
Suhl: Grha-ha-ha-ha-ha-ha!
It’s hard to say if his mad laugh was a reaction to Ryle being blown away by his attack. Either way, Suhl had already lost his sanity.
With his body regenerating from a death state and dying again at the incredible speed, his flame was burning away both his physical body and his mind.
This flame, without any doubt, bore a killing intent.
Facing him, Ryle stood at the center of the dome. Behind his back, a crystal pillar, resembling a gravestone.
Ryle: Tch…
Slowly, he stood up. With his eyes not having a blink of light in them, unfocused, it’s hard to believe that he actually regained his senses.
And yet…
Ryle: ...
Hanging his head, he muttered something.
It sounded like a song, but a one that could not exist in this world.
Dark, evil, ominous. An aria which would make the one’s ears and brain to rot and decay. An assembly of the impossible dissonance, which no normal person could say aloud.
As if in fear of that song, the pillar behind man’s back cracked.
— Come.
— I’ll give you the death you deserve.
Was it just an illusion of a crescent moon-like mouth uttering such thing?
Suhl: Arg-g-h-a-a-a-a!
But, in the answer to the silent provocation, clad in flames Suhl just rushed forward. His speed is like an arrow, one that could not be seen by an eye.
However...
Ryle: Access — My Sin.
With a light swing, Ryle’s hand slashed Shul’s massive frame from the crotch to the top of the head.
Suhl: Kh-h-h-ha...a...a…
A scream of a death agony. And this time, Suhl won’t come back to life. Drowning in his own blood, he collapses and turns to dust.
Ryle: ...Tch
Looking at what happened, Ryle spits a clot of blood. The wound from the attack he received was not a fatal one, but not a light one as well.
But even thinking about that, he still slowly, very slowly, raises his eyes to see what’s above him.
Ryle: …
He calls. Though he does not understand who he calls.
And yet, there’s certainly someone who will answer.
Another crack runs through the pillar Ryle was leaning against, and finally, it breaks.
He sees this scene. From the shining crystal, a warped in light girl appears. As if she herself was radiating this light.
Ryle: …
Silently, a black silhouette catches a falling girl. The whole scene somehow resembles a religious painting, though surrounded by a strange, elusive atmosphere.
A girl embraced by the blood-covered hands wakes up and whispers...
In a voice of an angel just awakened from a dream:
Ril: ...Lot?