Ever since his departure from the Temple of the Stars, a single thought continued to occupy Soren’s mind. It was a question he kept asking himself, hoping for the world to answer back:
Should he be allowed to exist?
Ironically, this question was originally tied to his ritual query: “Should humanity exist?” After all, he himself was a human, so questioning whether humanity should exist ant questioning whether he himself should as well.
Of course, after he discovered he wasn’t actually human anymore, this part of the question beca largely obsolete. And his new fascination with the fantasy world he was thrust into gave him a new purpose to pursue. Despite the madness, the suffering, and the horror, Soren still found it all to be thrilling. His dive into magecraft left him yearning for more… Even if his existence was later jeopardized, Soren didn’t care. For he lived in the mont.
However, his discovery of Sienna’s prophecy shattered all his preconceived notions. Just as Myrin had reminded him, humanity wasn’t the only intelligent race in existence. Whether he was human or sothing else entirely mattered not. His original question still applied to him. And his actions in that prophecy further cented that reasoning…
“It’s no wonder Cassia wanted to kill … I should have guessed the problem from the start.
“No, I already knew deep down. My mind simply forced to ignore reality…”
The prophecy depicted him killing his own teacher—a person he had grown to respect and admire. An invisible sword pierced her chest, and Sienna’s galaxy-filled eyes t his, smiling at her own killer.
As if… As if she were happy with the choice he made.
Soren refused to accept this.
He refused to believe there would ever be a reason for him to commit such an act. And yet, a seed of doubt continued to linger on anyway… That was why he ultimately decided to leave Myrin behind; he couldn’t fathom allowing him to witness such a scene.
And now, he was finally grasping the logic behind his future actions.
Sienna Yvain… The truth had been hidden in her Vocation Title all along. She was the Star of the Ending Dawn. The bringer of a new age… and the ender of the current one. And her death was the catalyst for that change.
By shattering the Vessel of the Stars, the final promise of the Divine Accord will be broken. Yarian’s Celestial Fate will unfreeze itself…
Fate… Damned fate! All along, it had been steering him toward this conclusion. The orbits he had displaced—all of his actions during the Crimson Massacre were for naught! This entire journey had been ordained to lead him back to this very scene…
Ironically, it was the very advantage he had used to manipulate the orbits that was now being used here. Because his fate was outside the bounds of this world, Soren was the only one who could complete this task. Breaking Sienna’s Soul Weapon wouldn't result in the sa outco unless it was him…
And then there was Cassia. The Whispering Dream wasn’t lying about assisting in her deity’s revival. But more than likely, his motive rested on her ability to restore the Vessel of the Stars back to what it was: the Hollowed Star fragnts. Achieving this without [Eyes of the Serpent] would be imnsely difficult. Cassia had likely seen this outco in her dreams, prompting her to consider killing herself.
Did the Serpent of Untruths know this from the start? Fignts of the Serpent… Was giving Cassia and every other Holy Shrine Maiden this Soul Weapon simply a part of his resurrection plan?
“Correct,” the dream lingering entity read his thoughts. “In fact, all three of the Old Gods had planned for their resurrections. The Tower of Runes created the dungeons you see today across the continent and filled them with His contraptions. That is where all the magitech devices originate from. As for the Heavenly Loop…” His voice trailed off into a chuckle.
The dungeons… This was also a new revelation. “So that’s why I couldn’t fully understand the origins of the Dungeon Shroud…”
“Ah, that’s actually unrelated to Him.” The Whispering Dream corrected. “The concept of the Dungeon Shroud was borrowed from this very Cathedral of Aeons. All the dungeons He created were largely based on this ageless concept.”
“.....” The more he heard, the more hopeless the situation beca. From the very beginning, Soren had been a pawn to hidden existences he couldn’t even hope to grasp. The sa could be said for Cassia, for Myrin… And certainly for his Teacher, Sienna.
The Chessboard of Fate… He had been right all along about its pieces being formless.
Despair settled in his chest, prompting the Whispering Dream to chuckle.
“Do you regret your rebellion? Have you rethought all your actions?
Unauthorized duplication: this tale has been taken without consent. Report sightings.
“Your teacher… What did she tell you before you embarked on your journey again?
“Sothing along the lines of, ‘You may have twisted fate, but only by breaking sothing else in its stead?’ A fitting phrase, really.
“How pitiful.” He sighed while glancing up at the cosmos. “If you hadn’t interfered with my plans that day, I might have had no reason to involve Cassia. Through contracting Tazzith, I could have likely achieved a similar result.
“Your actions of resisting fate have managed to involve her. The person she trusted the most.”
Soren’s eyes widened even more. “The… most?...”
The hooded figure smiled. “Indeed. More than Tina. More than Joyce. More than Myrin…
“More than even Sienna herself. She trusted you the most.”
Soren felt all his strength drain from his body. He wanted to collapse to the floor. Glancing at her levitating figure made the lump in his throat feel even heavier.
“I refuse to make a choice,” his voice echoed out into the distant cosmos. “I refuse!”
“You don’t have a choice,” The Whispering Dream sighed.
Not listening anymore, Soren decided to do sothing he never thought he would dare to do. Without even expanding his Soul Realm, he clutched tightly to his wand, commanding his anima to flow backwards.
He was going to disable the Fairy Bind spell inside him. Doing so will inevitably cause the Echoes of the Rift plaguing his Heart’s Shroud to erupt and consu him.
Gritting his teeth, he glared nacingly at the hooded figure. “Get the fuck out of my body!”
Since the Whispering Dream was currently inhabiting his Three Layers, he would now have to fight against the Rift’s corruption to continue doing so. Even though his actions were tantamount to suicide, Soren didn’t care. He would much rather die than continue being soone else’s puppet.
At the end of the day, Soren had always considered this option. That was why he had asked that ritual question to begin with. If scribe-of-worlds had never sent him to this cursed world, he might have ended up dead from an overdose anyway.
In just a matter of seconds, Soren quickly unraveled Fairy Bind, letting his Three Layers unfold naturally. The response was imdiate. Faint whispers began to fill his mind with incomprehensible whispers that drew his attention—beckoning him to listen to their aning. He felt his skull cracking, as if a swarm of maggots had drilled through its surface.
The Shattering.... The Fracturing.... Singularity....
The words echoed louder and louder, hoping to drown him in their presence.
“Stop.”
The Whispering Dream’s voice reverberated in his mind like a bell. Before he could even interpret the corrupting echoes, a sudden flash of forgetfulness washed over him.
“Did you really think I hadn’t planned for this?”
He used the Naless Mist to conceal the corruption!
“I’m honestly very thankful for that Fairy Bind spell you created. If not for its presence, you or Tazzith might have eventually discovered my presence inside your Three Layers.”
Soren smiled. “You underestimate .” Without a second to waste, The Records activated on its own, commanding [Record] to inject the Echoes of the Rift back into his mories!
“You…” The Whispering Dream was montarily taken aback.
Soren knew he would be stopped, so he instead focused on chronicling the echoes as its own kind of lody. With the newly evolved Rank 2 [Record], playing back the whispers wasn’t difficult at all!
Once again, the strange words filled Soren’s mind, threatening to corrupt him. No matter how many tis the Naless Mist made him forget, his Soul Weapon which was being operated by Fignt remotely could continue to remind him.
There was no need for direct communication—Biblion completely understood his plan from the start. He would expect no less from his cloned apparition.
“Farewell, you bastard!” Death was rapidly closing in. He could feel it…
“Enough.” The word resounded in his mind louder than any explosion. He felt his consciousness shatter completely.
Almost instantaneously, he awakened once again. This ti, his surroundings were different. A completely blank white void encompassed every direction he looked.
“Where am I…” Soren wondered whether or not this was the afterlife.
“An empty dream.” A faint whisper echoed from behind, prompting him to turn around. Standing there, Soren saw a completely unfamiliar figure.
It was a man roughly his age with white flowing hair tied into a pony tail. His face, highlighted by the profound purple in his irises, was enough to make refusals sound like apologies. There was a strange allure to his smile that made it hard to resist looking away.
The figure donned a layered black duster, its right sleeve lashed to his skin with pleated leather, while the left hung empty—the limb itself was missing. In its place, violet-colored stardust bled from his shoulder, coalescing into the spectral shape of a hand and fingers, all bound loosely by tattered white bandages.
Beneath the dark coat, Soren noticed a patterned indigo wrap and a high-collared shirt of ruffled lavender—all made from expensive silks, adding a touch of glamour and nobility to his features.
It felt as if he was in the presence of a prince. Soone who had escaped from a picture-book or fairytale. But he knew better than to assu benevolence from such an alluring expression.
“You’re the Whispering Dream right? Is this another one of your ‘Avatars?’” Having to call them that term filled him with disgust.
The handso figure’s smile widened. “Nay, this is rely my truest form. You hoped to grasp my original identity, did you not?”
With that said, the prince-like figure curtsied a bow with his arm to his chest.
“Let reintroduce myself. My na is rlin, The Sleepless Guide.”
“rlin…” Soren’s frown deepened. “I don’t know what you plan to do with revealing that information, but it won’t aid you. My position is firm—I will do whatever it takes to resist the outco imagined in that prophecy. I refuse to kill my own teacher!
“And more than that, I vowed to never interfere in this world’s affairs. I am simply a scribe—a witness to this world’s fated end or new beginning. If you coveted the Hollowed Star fragnts so desperately, you should have tried finding soone else to do the deed.”
The Whispering Dream chuckled, placing his nebulous hand over his lips. “Interesting. It seems you still don’t fully grasp where you stand in this world. As I would expect from a Foolish One.
“Perhaps you might change your mind once you learn about your predecessors.”
With that said, the Sleepless Guide raised his spectral arm. A puff of smoke manifested over his palm, and with it erged a mysterious scroll.
Soren glanced at it for a second and quickly realized what it was.
“The Second Scroll… The one Guntharion left behind?!”
rlin grinned. “Indeed.” He unfurled the aged parchnt, revealing a blank page. “Although this is a dream I manifested, you can still use your Soul Weapon abilities if you simply imagine them. Try using [Eyes of the Fairy] on it.
“It’s finally ti for you to grasp the true ending of the War of Swords.”
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