I remember being enveloped in a red, burning flame.

The calm, stagnant days of decadence came to an abrupt end.

Before that insane violence, the title of the strongest subhuman race, the position of the village chief feared most in the village, and even the universal love of a parent protecting their child meant nothing.

It was a grave miscalculation to notice the spread of slaughter too late.

— No, in this case, I should commend the enemy’s skill.

They were beings despised, loathed, and persecuted by the world.

Therefore, they hid in the shadows, killing their presence, silencing their sounds, and mastered the art of stealth.

At the moment of their initial ambush, the outcome was already decided.

A faint sediment mixed with the mana in the atmosphere, and when the anomaly was sensed by the horns, it was too late.

First, half of the villagers were taken out in one blow, and at that point, the number of those who could fight had been cut down by more than half. On top of that, even though some sensed the anomaly, half of them could not realize the urgency, thinking it might be a mistake.

In short, their hearts had been corrupted by peace and tranquility.

Once called the strongest subhuman race, had they participated in the “Subhuman War,” it is said that the situation in the Lugnica Kingdom would have changed. However, even if such a “what if” from history had occurred, the ogres would not have achieved much.

In any case, the first strike reduced half of the population, and the second strike halved that number again.

By this point, flames erupted from all corners of the village, and as the death throes echoed into the night sky, all the ogres in the village sensed the anomalies.

Yet, only two realized that the ogre race would perish that night—

“—Ram! Break through the encirclement! Your survival is paramount!”

The elder, with gigantic, enlarged horns and swollen muscles, barked out.

He threw himself out of the house, wielding his large sword, and shouted to Ram, who was slicing through the cannon fodder with wind. He urged her to live, not out of concern for her, but because he believed, with utmost sincerity, that Ram was the shining future of the ogre race.

Once, the ogre race’s glory—the reincarnation of the “Ogre God,” praised in the age of the “Witch”—was Ram’s destined role as the last clan leader of the ogres who had forgotten how to fight; it was his earnest wish.

“Ha!”

I felt like bursting into laughter at the absurdity of it all.

At this point, the hope of the village’s representative ogre rests on the realization of a hazy dream. There were countless other options—rallying the comrades quickly and attempting a counterattack.

However, Ram had no intention of advising the elder.

It wasn’t because of this night.

Long ago, Ram had already given up on her kin.

“The glory of the ogres is…”

Ridiculous. Ridiculous. Ridiculous.

The fact that such pure blood of the ogres flows through her own veins was horrifying.

Indeed, when one desires power, the blood boils, exhilaration overwhelms the body, and an all-encompassing feeling of omnipotence fills them as if everything exists for them.

In fact, if Ram had grown in health, that sensation of omnipotence might have become genuine.

But Ram did not wish for that.

Rather than posing as a divine child in a narrow world, Ram had a future she wanted to choose.

That future held far more value than spending a life as a mere vessel for the glory that had already perished, clinging to a bloodline.

—To live as **■■**,

“—”

Focusing her consciousness on her forehead, she absorbed the heated mana from her white horns into her entire body.

With a strong intent, Ram’s perception expanded greatly, encompassing the view of every living being around her, perfectly grasping the events unfolding in the narrow village.

The number of enemies was vast, and they laid a siege to ensure no one could escape the village.

At the initial point, those able to respond seemed few, reduced to only half of half, and now that number was down to only a handful, with the ogre’s pride running low.

One elder appeared to be struggling fiercely, but the enemies gathering around him were quite skilled—his presence, which found itself in dire straits, was cloaked in a dense shroud of “death.”

“—■■”

Ram, cloaked in wind, dashed through the village like a tempest.

The only one she thought of was her beloved **■■**. It wasn’t that Ram was heartless; she was merely switching her focus.

For her parents, included among the first eliminated, there was already no hope of saving them.

—She never hated her parents.

However, they both deliberately chose to be born in this village, grow up in it, and die in it, unaware that they were accepting a slow demise.

Thus, meeting their end this night was, in a sense, a foregone conclusion as well.

However—

“—That doesn’t mean I won’t exact revenge.”

A black shadow stands in her way, an enemy draped in robes that envelop her from head to toe.

Against the ludicrous figure wielding a cross-shaped sword, Ram unleashed a gale with no hesitation.

Did they underestimate her as a child, or were they simply lacking in skill?

Unprepared for Ram’s wind blades, the black shadows fell one after another, their grotesque corpses piling up. Even after that, Ram continued her massacre, dancing amidst the flames as the wind enveloped her.

It may have appeared to be a beautiful dance.

Yet in reality, with every swing of her arm, a life was extinguished, and each time a tangible thing was lost, a dark ecstasy echoed through her youthful heart.

More killing, it howled within.

Steal their blood, flesh, bones, souls, and lives—the deepest self urged her on.

This was not the first time she heard such an appeal.

—After all, since the very day she was born, this voice had tempted her at every opportunity.

Entrust your blood, flesh, bones, souls, and lives; her awakened self craved more of it.

“Kill, kill more; break, break more,” it demanded.

What was wonderful about this, Ram could not comprehend at all.

Neither the elder nor her parents could grasp it. Ram had no intention of conveying it to those who sought a role for her other than being herself.

It was as if she were being dominated by her horns.

Without a firm sense of self, her innocent personality would be easily consumed and destroyed, perhaps becoming the reincarnation of the Ogre God that everyone desired.

But such was not the case, for—

“—Oni-chan!!”

Called by a high-pitched voice, Ram turned her gaze to find **■■** illuminated by fire.

In an instant, a surging wind blew the swarm of black shadows away, scattering them effortlessly.

Without hesitation, Ram rushed toward **■■**.

“■■…”

With scared eyes, **■■** seemed to lack the strength to stand, collapsing onto the ground.

Extending her hand to her beloved **■■**, Ram tried to help her stand. She must survive, just as the elder wished; but not only Ram, but also together with **■■**—

—It was then.

Confirming **■■**’s safety, a moment’s relaxation crept in.

By the time she sensed the presence of enemies surrounding her, creating a way to escape was a tight situation. Alone, it might not have been impossible. Yet, if she could escape alone, it would be the same as dying.

Somehow, she must break through the situation.

To do so, she would remove all the restraints on her powers, unleashing the raging wind upon the enemies—

“—”

That was the heart’s gap brought forth by the loathsome sense of omnipotence.

The black shadow slipped past the wind blade, and the strike it unleashed hit solidly against her forehead, an explosion of vision.

Reeling from the enormous impact, Ram experienced an overwhelming sense of loss, watching as her white horns spun and flew into the red night that burned down the village.

Understanding that it was her own horn, a shriek erupted from her slender throat, filled with pain and loss.

Yet at the same time, Ram realized.

Since the moment she was born, the voice that had corrupted her was silent.

Ah, how foolish I was, to think that this could ever happen so easily.

Watching the horns draw a parabolic arc in the crimson night—

—Ah, at last, they have broken.

And with that thought in mind—

—The black earth dragon desperately fled, shared through “Clairvoyance.”

Carried upon its back was a girl, who should be Ram’s vital other half.

A missing, gaping void left behind by forgotten memories—

“—Rem.”

Understanding what it signified, Ram’s heart shook with anger.

Though bitter to admit, thanks to Subaru’s support, Ram had regained a portion of her former power, enough to push the Archbishop of Gluttony, Rai Batenkaitos, to the brink.

Ram could confidently assert that she had countless opportunities to kill him.

However, the troublesome power he wielded, the ability to devour others’ “memories” and “names,” made her hesitate to take this blasphemer’s life impulsively.

It wasn’t out of compassion; it was a necessary judgment. Yet, the result remained the same.

As a consequence, Batenkaitos, wielding his power, managed to escape from Ram’s grasp and proceeded to secure Rem’s body.

His intentions were clear—he became certain he could not win against Ram in direct combat.

He would fight head-on, sense the disadvantage, retreat, and change his tactics.

The Archbishop of Sin was neither a warrior nor anything of the sort. They acted out of sheer greed to satisfy their own desires, having no reason to fixate on a particular method of winning.

Thus, he plotted revenge against Ram, who had caused him humiliation, and aimed to exploit Rem’s “memories” to whittle down the time limit on the hornless Ram.

That plan was infuriatingly optimal.

Securing Rem’s body would render Ram powerless with ease.

Moreover, without further delay, the strength of their forces would diminish greatly as time passed. Each moment spellbound their chances of success.

Therefore—

“Quickly, catch up with Patrasche!”

Fortunately, Patrasche, who was with Rem, could be deemed the second most reliable to Julius among those gathered at this tower.

Subaru and Beatrice were erratic, while Echidna and Meily presented a large unknown. Emilia, with a vibe that made him hesitate to rely on her, was entirely out of the question.

This was complicated, but Batenkaitos was clearly tormenting Patrasche.

Feeling that Patrasche could be cornered in an instant, Batenkaitos deliberately relaxed his attacks, leaving openings for pursuit, taking pleasure in weakening his prey.

All of this was to have Ram cement this scene in her mind with shared vision.

There was no way he could continue doing as he pleased—

“—Ah.”

Just as she attempted to dash forward, cloaked in wind, her vision of ascending the spiral staircase shook, and for a moment, “Clairvoyance” unraveled. Maintaining her sight in her left eye while still reflecting Batenkaitos’ vision in her right, the scenery blurred.

That wasn’t all. A heavy fatigue, previously unfelt, and an unpleasant discomfort and pain as if her insides were being agitated by invisible hands cascaded down upon Ram.

This was undeniably the impact of the lethargy that was Ram’s constant companion.

It was the cost that Subaru boasted he would undertake, one that should eviscerate “Hornless” Ram forevermore—had it rebounded upon her.

Instantly, a thought occurred: the possibility of Subaru having shamelessly died like a dog.

However, she could discern that was not the case based on how light the strain that bounced back to Ram felt. Though it had only been a few minutes, if one considered the power Ram had drawn forth, the price could not be this meager.

It could have easily been excruciating enough to cause one to spit blood and writhe in agony.

The fact that it hadn’t become so indicated that while unexpected events had indeed transpired, it didn’t mean Subaru had completely withdrawn from the front line of battle.

Perhaps an outcome the complete opposite of the event that had transpired could be imagined.

In other words, if an unfortunate event beyond the burden of Ram’s body had struck someone else.

“Beatrice or Meily, Knight Julius…”

That would encompass the possibilities, yet confirming the answer held no value.

What mattered most was that at this very moment, it had become challenging for Ram to exhibit the power she had shown when overwhelming Batenkaitos just moments ago.

—If we liken it to shackles, only one could be removed.

If she strained herself, perhaps she might manage to get rid of the second one, but it was merely speculation whether she could maintain it for a matter of seconds.

Would she really be able to defeat Rai Batenkaitos—

“Why the doubt? All I can do is devise a plan to win.”

Even now, the chances of their victory were diminishing in the meantime.

Once more, Ram stepped on the verge of wavering ground, climbing the spiral staircase.

—Fleeting it seemed, this reminded her of when she once gasped in haste to rush to where her sister was in danger.

“—”

“Ha ha! You really are something! You’re amazing, for a ground dragon!”

As he sprinted through the narrow hall, I applauded the black earth dragon, whose scales I had inflicted wounds upon with the thrown dagger.

Its painful wounds bled profusely, yet the earth dragon faithfully sustained its escape, determined not to shed its conditions for victory.

“The Blessing of Wind Protection” is a trait every earth dragon possesses.

As long as that earth dragon keeps running, it disregards external factors like wind and poor footing, positively reinforcing the act of “running” for its objective.

The boon extends even to the dragon carts tethered to the earth dragon and to the dragon knight riding upon them.

Thus, it was largely due to this “Blessing of Wind Protection” that the sleeping beauty, bound to the saddle in an unconscious state, couldn’t be thrown off.

Without it, the sleep princess would have undoubtedly already been seized by Batenkaitos.

“Wooow wow, what a trooper! Despite all the disturbances against its glorious running, it’s incredible how it never stops running. Well, if it stops, the ‘Blessing of Wind Protection’ wears off, so I can understand the desperation behind it!”

“It’s amazing!”

“Ground dragons are wonderful; they try hard and are loyal to their masters. If you were human, I bet you’d have made a mouthwatering dish we foodies would drool over! But alas, alas, alas, alas, alas, alas! Sadly, as a ground dragon, you can’t fill our bellies!”

It had a will, a soul, “memories,” and a “name.”

However, the power of “Gluttony” couldn’t devour anything that wasn’t human.

Thus, despite how desperately and valiantly the earth dragon confronted its foes, Batenkaitos couldn’t express his fondness for it in a way that was best for him.

“It looks so delectable it makes my mouth water, yet I cannot feast upon it.”

It felt akin to a meal painted with a supreme brush of culinary artistry. —I’ve heard sayings it’s like not being able to eat rice cakes drawn on a picture.

“Oh, that’s it, that’s the kicker! During those times when I’m starving to death and can do nothing to satiate myself! A picture of a food that looks this delectable is such a tease. This is outright child abuse, isn’t it?”

As I pursued the fleeing earth dragon, I erupted a clot of nosebleed from deep within my nostrils.

After the previous battle had mangled my face, was my left eye rolling around as if my eye socket had shattered? My fangs had shattered, and my tongue was split, with an unending flow of blood wetting my chin; yet none of it mattered.

—Now, knowing that Ram might witness this spectacle sent a genuine shiver down my spine.

“Dear sister—”

Fair, noble, perfect—a flawlessly completed existence.

This was a plea born of the very “memories” that lie dormant within Batenkaitos, a legitimate assessment from having been half-killed without means to fight back.

Ram was a force Batenkaitos stood no chance against. —No, perhaps any of the archbishops could easily be crushed by the genuine Ram.

Even Regulus might have had a fighting chance due to the absolute nature of his powers—but—

“Well, my sister isn’t one to be killed by a fool like that. Even if she couldn’t kill him, at the very least, she’d have tossed him over a great waterfall, ending it all there.”

Even though killing him wouldn’t be impossible, keeping him contained would’ve been within her scope.

After all, just as the “Witch of Envy” couldn’t kill even with the hands of the three heroes and remains locked away in the demon-slaying stone shrine.

In other words—

“To properly host my perfect and supreme dear sister, we must prepare accordingly if we don’t want to be rude!”

With my shaky left eye wide open, Batenkaitos bore a grim murky grin as blood dripped down his maw.

The earth dragon’s speed was indeed impressive, yet within the confines of buildings, that agility amounted to nothing but waste.

What’s more, Batenkaitos traversed the space with the aid of the “memories” with the adaptability to dissipate any distance.

“I must not be embarrassed as her sister to showcase how I’ve matured,” he resolved, filling his heart with a growing sense of duty, dragging out the “memories” within himself.

Among these powers of “Gluttony” lies a type called “Corruption.”

This encompasses the phenomena of “Solar Eclipse” and “Lunar Eclipse,” categories that are exceedingly tricky to utilize.

“The ‘Lunar Eclipse’ presents the phenomenon of the moon appearing to wane. In turn, it allows one to draw forth the ‘memories’ of those consumed, replicating them with Batenkaitos’ physical form.”

Normally, Batenkaitos would peruse a wide array of “memories,” combining them into a superb composite art form, which can also be viewed as the main feature of this “Lunar Eclipse.”

Contrarily, the “Solar Eclipse” depicts a phenomenon where the sun becomes obscured. In contrast, it employs not just the ‘memories’ of the devoured but captures the very essence of that being, adopting their attributes in accordance with their original specifications.

Naturally, the original wielders of their techniques with their physiques could employ them more powerfully.

Yet, should one change their body to that of another, they risk being excessively influenced by the other’s psyche, which could resonate significantly later on.

For that reason, unless absolutely necessary, neither Batenkaitos nor Alphard would often utilize such tactics.

Rai Batenkaitos and Roy Alphard predominantly utilized “Lunar Eclipse.”

While Lui Arnebe mainly utilized “Solar Eclipse”—it was a hidden ace she could casually wield, considering she lacked a physical form and possessed no firmly established self.

However, after becoming half-killed in her battle with Ram, Batenkaitos broke out of his shell, utilizing “Solar Eclipse,” producing “The Jumper” Dolker.

Until then, he had avoided it out of fear of losing himself, but he discovered the means to master it, ultimately maintaining a solid sense of self.

Thereby allowing him to relish all aspects of another’s “life” with even greater perfection.

“Growing in the midst of battle is something that should never occur for a decrepit old man like me. Ha ha! This is a masterpiece! Ain’t that right, dear sister!”

Thanks to solidifying his sense of self, Batenkaitos was invigorated.

He truly wished to have this awakened state seen by his splendid sister. For that purpose, he must bait her wrath even further.

The aroma of anger, the flavor of anger, the texture of anger, a complete course of anger.

To experience all that could be felt by that dear person with everything he had—no doubt exemplified what it meant to be a “Gourmet.”

In pursuit of that, regarding the “self” upon the back of the earth dragon—

“Come to think of it, I’ve never done it myself. Killing myself, now that seems to be a discovery of a new perspective,” he mockingly mused.

“—”

The instant he winked, he switched the worlds with a short-distance spatial leap.

The earth dragon emitted a groan from deep within its throat, astonished by the sudden appearance of Batenkaitos, while trying to dash past the spot where he had been.

Such earnestness, truly. Yet, that earnestness would merely serve as a spice to the tragedy that lay ahead.

“—The Palm of the Fist King.”

The bear-like fist struck decisively into the earth dragon’s side, a grand powerful thrust.

Normally, that would be a punch delivered by Batenkaitos’ diminutive frame, but this time, having awakened from gazing into the abyss of death, he acquired a newfound strength.

The original physique of Naiji Lockhart penetrated through the dragon’s torso with extraordinary force.

In the countless duels held on Gladiator Island, it was the Fist King’s iron fist capable of taking down even a fully armored giant with one blow.

Having taken the hit, the earth dragon leaked a death-like sound, forcefully smashed against the wall of the corridor.

However, even tainted with death, it managed to shield the girl upon its back from falling as it tumbled.

Though the poor thing was a female, the way it treated her was smooth enough to make any gentleman proud.

Without realizing it, even Batenkaitos applauded.

“However! After all this trouble of gently laying her on the floor, I’m going to chop her head off and use her as a present for my sister.”

“—”

“Hey now, don’t squirm around, you did well. Here’s a prize for your efforts.”

Even as the earth dragon lay on its side, attempting to bite back, Batenkaitos kicked the creature’s jaw upward.

Though it was heartwarming to see its earnestness, tragically, Batenkaitos and the earth dragon were enemies.

They could commend each other’s valor, but they could not share the same sky of victory.

In the reality of things, if one wins, the other will lose. Sadly, that’s just how it is.

“Get a grip! Know your place!”

He delivered every word with emphasis, hammering them into the dark earth dragon.

The dragon’s cheekbone and front claws were shattered, imparting an enduring lesson along with its pain. Thankfully, Batenkaitos wouldn’t consume the dragon’s “memories.”

Thus, there was no reason to strip away its life. He wished to remember this event along with it.

What to do next—

“On behalf of my dear sister, for my dear Rem, with Rem’s own hands…”

“—Please don’t utter such creepy things.”

The chillingly clear voice followed immediately before the face was about to descend upon Rem.

Her face met the direct onslaught of two pairs of shoes, sending Batenkaitos staggering backward, quickly propelled away.

“Ah ha ha ha ha… You finally caught up, sister. We’ve been… ah, wait? Us? We’ve…? —We’ve been waiting for you.”

Struggling to rise from the ground with just his legs, Batenkaitos gazed directly at his beloved other half, taken aback by the unfamiliar expression on Ram’s face.

“…In such a short time, you’ve become quite the eyesore.”

Batenkaitos had sprinted forth to interrupt her laughter as Ram’s honest impressions caught up with him.

Having dragged out of the previous state of exhaustion, he willed forth the cost of his self until he arrived at a point where a fragile extent of incapacity would arise.

And so came the stifling binding of Ram’s self—as she found herself chasing the fragmented pieces soaring forth.

Intently, Batenkaitos considers debating how to assure the proper recovery.

However, whatever drew Ram’s attention did not concern him as she shifted her focus—only one voice broke through the haze:

“Blabbering on about glory and whatnot among the dangers; that’s simply ridiculous. She’s disgustingly shallow.”

That was the first phrase she managed to utter after grappling through the soft tenor façade of recognized presence.

She couldn’t comprehend why he would favor extermination over experiencing overhuman abilities.

“Loyalty never dwells well among you, I suppose.”

But strangely enough, Batenkaitos’ decisions could pinpoint where the truths adhered like vines.

Though Ptolemaic, he pressed further, adorning his facade with power he never imagined could exist.

“Such foolish attempts to counter my whims only serve to illuminate how woefully inadequate you are in striking back.”

He snickered, the disdain against the glaring sunlight disturbing her thoughts.

Batenkaitos exchanged idle chatter with his wry smile as the tension thickened, shifting any regard left beyond Ram’s reach.

“Really sister, to speak so, you ought to reflect on certain choices you might have to resort to…”

Ram had no intention of responding further to those taunts.

Though laughter tried to surface, discretion warned against it. The illusions, it seemed, could just as easily unravel with the mere flick of a wrist.

“Even if some magic burns darkly, its manifestations remain potent regardless of absence.”

“Ha! If you can’t take the heat, then you deserve to burn, familiar imposter!”

And that very moment, the shadows gave way as dusk settled upon the earth. The black dragon felt the pull; the teeth were clenched as the legend of the black dragon breathed in the gathering dusk—instead, it waned into oblivion.

Her agony, the blood from her horns between bare fangs led the creature to the edge of surrender.

“To be a fool… there’s no point in succumbing now.”

“—”

Knowing full well the power control created in battle with willingness, Bloated expectation prompted Ram to push forth. Yet the fears of blood ran higher as Batenkaitos felt the tug near closer to her.

All the protective distance waned in the cruel taunts of the dreamer.

In the final efforts, Ram found her mind sharpened, only for it to be rent anew.

Knowing the limits of joy soon fell beneath the burgeoning weight behind each word—

“Every moment not trembling at that thought…”

The weight began to build before Batenkaitos could raise another hand. Taking the plunge, Ram plunged forth.

War against terror neither tore ahead nor crumbled to desperation; he could witness the rise of raw proclivities within place, emerging triumphant over dodging extended shadows of the nights they bore along.

Thus, feeling disillusioned both ways was at best called living fiercely.

“In this game of Emergence: you and I have yet to fully engage… each will have its vengeance.”

With a final push of will, in saying that—

“A mortal matters not in the shadows.”

Through sacred bonds of blood, Ram the Celestial sat poised to cast forth the next battle towards irrevocable balance.

Termination awaited in each swing of judgment waiting beyond the unpredictable shafts… it encompassed permanence—

“Ready your fangs and laugh in abandon!”

As she remembered—but only that moment when the gleaming light would breach through—what was it again?

“I’m just free to assert our names, and pursue ‘My Sister’ to my heart’s content.”

Knowing full well, she would break beyond her restraints—

Everything leaped beyond what she could grasp now…

She recognized the subtle whims of fate flourishing forth from all—striding forward she felt herself burst anew—

“Farewell…”

And just then, the clock chimed at the fateful hour of the deeper night, poised to tear across the snagged fate yet bound in luminous light.

Upon this instant, dawn shifted itself from black within colors yet unknown—something distinct was recast always far clearer than what remained just a faint memory.

Through time, there emerged the valor with angle ablaze through the intensified strain before the echoes of freedom burst forth.

Thus here, the calling of how the world might once again align at each clamber across toward blinding pasts…

And beyond those ribs of sound—

“Imposter—the one who claimed… your fate is but a joke to me.”

The ambiance quietly broke, murmuring back as each whisper surged, and what lay beyond shattered silently in ground lit lanes graced by two.

Finally, clarity flew open—

“**■■**…”

A blind echo shining through, one made them fade into mere lore of night’s embrace.

A change triggered—whether it be the unbroken sustenance of light brought forth or the battle’s possession into pieces molded anew; engendered the evanescent form.

The truest sign flickered in turn, and beauty transformed towards the saintly vessel—

“**Ram.**”

Thus, dancing fiends of uncertainties soared beautifully above the reach.

And only upon birth, Agile hearts drew breath anew—

All thumping peaks of resolute fates had plenty more there still to unfold.

The slithering shadows sidestepped, intersected at their destiny beneath them leaping just before the dawn.

Choose wisely, Batenkaitos…

How swiftly fate alights upon thee through beings reborn.

—“Your time hurls you forever to me.”

A fiery blaze loomed in palpable court.

Ready as shadows swelled forth new growth.

“Yeah! Just tear them! Just tear them apart!!”

And the thunder of the world echoed as the two calmly advanced…

Toward the divine dawn yet unwritten.

Imagine, should she string the melody from heart’s gracious chamber…

As she spoke, fading to the older girl’s lingering presence only felt within—

Until she attain again—what enlightenment achieves, there in Deeper Paths—

Duality perceived, the rise of cross paths beyond within a fabric once lengthened.

In time, those truths spoke clear and full—all before fate renewed at her fingertips.

Awaken, dear singer of the night!

Fight for thine—!

Embark.

Don’t rest—be reborn as dust sifts anew…

Through threaded fates, unravel, shout even deeper than deep is drawn.

At last…

—”The stories yet await thee!”