The night sky stretched endlessly above Ravager as she hovered over the desolate landscape, her gaze distant, unfocused. The fierce winds whipped around her, but she remained unmoving, her mind lingering on the encounter with Minka and Leanna. The armor sat heavy in her hand, a symbol of her victory—yet somehow, a bitter reminder of something more.
Ravager clenched her fist around the armor piece, feeling the cold metal against her skin, her lips curling into a faint smile. They were so fragile, she thought. So willing to sacrifice themselves for each other. And yet, that fragility was what gnawed at her, a thin crack in the fortress she had built around herself.
She looked down at her reflection in the smooth surface of the armor, her own features staring back—features once shared with Minka, but twisted now by lifetimes of loss and rage. There was no place for weakness, for sentiment. Not in this life.
And yet, a whisper crept into her thoughts, unbidden. A name. Eden.
Her hands trembled for a moment before she forced them to still, her expression hardening. This was no time for memories, no time for ghosts. Eden was long gone, taken from her in a life that felt like a distant dream. She had sacrificed everything to bring herself back from death, to become more than human—yet, each time she faced Minka, it was as if her past self clawed its way back, haunting her with memories of what she had lost.
She would never be the same again. The armor was a reminder of that, and she would use it to carve out her own future—one not dictated by the whims of fate or the ghosts of the past. Ravager cast one last look at the stars before turning her gaze downward, towards her destination. There was no room for regret; there could only be purpose.
With a final glance back at the city that lay in the distance, she vanished into the night, the wind swallowing any trace of her presence. She put on the bracelet and the armor began expanding on her body. It glows in a faint dark light and soon she is covered by the armor: "Welcome back, old friend." Ravager said, feeling a rush of power surging through her. She vanished into thin air.
In a far off place, Ravager walks in the dark corridors, she is following Knight. She is wearing her new armor: "Nice armor." Knight said as they both walked: "It fits you well."
As Ravager and Knight moved through the shadowy corridors, the low hum of machinery echoed around them, casting flickering shadows on the cold metal walls. Ravager’s new armor, now fully integrated with the bracelet, seemed to pulse in tune with her heartbeat, its energy whispering promises of power and control.
Knight glanced sideways at Ravager, her eyes sharp and calculating. “So, what’s the next step?” she asked, her tone casual but edged with curiosity. “You’ve got the armor now. What’s left?”
Ravager’s gaze stayed fixed ahead, her voice smooth and unyielding. “What’s left, Knight, is to ensure there are no more obstacles. Minka, Leanna… they’re just the beginning. Anyone who stands in my way, anyone who dares to protect them… they’ll be removed.” Her voice was devoid of emotion, as if she were discussing mere objects rather than lives.
Knight chuckled, a hint of admiration in her voice. “I like this version of you. Focused. Relentless. I’m glad I’m not on the other end of that armor.” Her smile widened, through her eyes stayed wary.
Ravager stopped abruptly, turning to face Knight. The faint glow of the armor cast an eerie light across her face, and her expression was unreadable, almost detached. “I don’t do this for pleasure, Knight. This armor, this power—it’s a means to an end. You would do well to remember that.”
Knight’s smile faltered slightly, but she quickly masked it, giving a nonchalant shrug. “Sure, whatever you say. Just keep that power pointed in the right direction, and we’ll be fine.”
A faint beeping sound interrupted their conversation. Knight pulled a small device from her belt, glancing at the screen. Her expression turned serious. “Looks like we’ve got movement." she said.
Knight glanced at Ravager: "So he's here?" She asked: "You're going to face him right?"
"Yes."
"So what's the plan?" Knight asked.
"I am going to make him pay." Ravager replied.
Ravager’s hand moved towards her wrist, the gauntlet activating with a low hum: "Time to end this." She said, then the entire place began shaking and it was followed by an explosion that caused a fire and the entire building shook. Ravager teleported to where she was standing and when she saw the figure that was approaching, her eyes grew in fury: "Dad..."
"My dear Minka..." The voice said. It's familiar and soothing but Ravager's anger is only fueled upon hearing it. Her power is growing as the man that she is seeing right now is none other than her father. "What do we have here... you're different... and that power..."
Ravager's eyes glowed: "I'm not that person anymore. I'm not Minka... not anymore...Do you have anything to say?" She asked, her voice filled with anger, the ground started to shake violently and the fire around them grew.
The Archivist's voice remained calm and gentle: "It doesn't have to be like this... my dear Minka, you don't have to follow the same path that I took..."
"I will never forgive you... you did this... YOU DID THIS TO US!" Ravager said and the place suddenly glowed and in an instant it all vanished and turned into nothing but dust... except Knight and... The Archivist.
Now they can finally see him... It is the face Knight recognizes: "Impossible... that's Legend. How did you-" Before Knight could finish, overwhelming psychic energy blasts her back to the wall.
The Archivist looks at Knight who is struggling to stand: "Just in time to finally adjust to this body... Now... Minka my dear, there's still a chance for you to join me. Together we can bring her back." He said.
Ravager’s fists clenched, the raw energy around her cackling like a storm barely contained. She took a step toward the Archivist, her gaze filled with a mixture of hatred and defiance. “There is no ‘us,’” she hissed. “You lost that when you killed...mom.” Her voice wavered, a hint of her old self breaking through, but she quickly buried it beneath her rage.
The Archivist watched her with that same unreadable calm, his eyes betraying the slightest glimmer of something close to regret. “Minka, my dear daughter, you may deny it all you like, but the power in you is linked to her sacrifice.”
Ravager raised her hand, energy swirling at her fingertips, a firestorm of raw psychic power building between them. “I am not your daughter,” she spat. “Not anymore. And I won’t let you control me—or anyone else—ever again.”
The Archivist lifted his hand, but instead of preparing an attack, he opened his palm in a gesture of peace. “Minka—don’t you see? I did this to save you, to protect us from a world that would tear us apart. You have power beyond measure, and yet you waste it on vengeance when together we could achieve so much more.”
The words struck a nerve, and Ravager’s control wavered for a fraction of a second. Knight, who had finally managed to regain her footing, watched the exchange in stunned silence, her own expression a mix of disbelief and dawning understanding. She realized the Archivist’s manipulation extended far deeper than she’d thought—and that he intended to twist Ravager’s emotions to his advantage.
With a sudden shout, Ravager unleashed her pent-up energy, sending a shockwave toward the Archivist. He deflected it effortlessly, his calm demeanor unbroken. “You cannot defeat me, Minka. Not like this,” he said, voice steady. “The anger inside you—if you let it go, we could bring back what was lost. We could bring back Eden.”
At the mention of Eden, Ravager’s power faltered, her breathing ragged as memories clawed their way to the surface. She remembered Eden—her mother, the one person she had loved and lost forever in all timeline, whose memory had driven her to the very brink. For a moment, her fury dimmed, her resolve shaken.
Seeing his chance, the Archivist stepped forward, his hand outstretched. “Join me, Minka. Together, we could defy fate itself. We could reshape this world in Eden’s image, in a way no one else could.”
Knight, recovering from the Archivist’s blast, saw Ravager’s hesitation and called out. “Don’t listen to him! He’s only using you—don’t let him twist your mind!” Her voice rang with urgency, a rare edge of desperation breaking through her usual composed tone.
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Ravager’s gaze flickered between Knight and the Archivist, her expression torn. The anger that had driven her moments before now tangled with a flood of grief and longing. The thought of Eden’s return gnawed at her, a temptation as powerful as any force she’d faced.
But then, something in her steeled. She took a deep breath, grounding herself, focusing on the weight of her purpose. She had come too far to fall prey to the very person who had twisted her life.
“No,” she said, her voice quiet but firm. “I won’t be your weapon anymore. I won’t become like you.”
The Archivist’s face darkened, the calm veneer slipping for the first time, revealing a flash of rage. “Then you are a fool, Minka. Without me, you are nothing.”
With newfound determination, Ravager channeled all her energy into a single attack, drawing strength from her resolve to sever the bond between them. The air shimmered with raw power, and she unleashed it in a focused blast that enveloped the Archivist, the sheer force of it tearing through the space around them.
The Archivist staggered, visibly weakened but still standing, a look of cold fury etched into his features. “So be it,” he whispered, his tone deadly. “You’ve made your choice. But know this, Minka—I will not rest until you understand the price of defiance.”
In a final flash of light, he vanished, leaving behind the faintest echo of his presence. The room fell silent, the remnants of Ravager’s energy fading like embers. She stood there, breathless, her heart pounding with the weight of the encounter.
Knight approached cautiously, still shaken. “Are you… alright?” she asked, the unspoken question hanging between them: What happens now?
Ravager turned to her, the fury gone but an unmistakable sadness lingering in her eyes. “I will never be his puppet again,” she vowed softly, the words ringing with the promise of a battle yet unwon. “I will not be what he wanted me to become. Not now, not ever.
The Archivist stood alone in the dimly lit chamber, his gaze fixed on the ancient consoles and data-slates strewn before him. Flickering screens reflected off his face, casting long, cold shadows across the room as he studied the readings from his recent confrontation. The energy signatures from Ravager's power surge still pulsed faintly on the display, resonating with a familiar echo—a piece of himself, yet twisted and wild, defying his control.
He lifted a hand to the screen, watching the chaotic patterns dance across his fingertips. “My dear Minka,” he murmured softly, his voice a blend of nostalgia and disappointment. She had come so far from the child he’d once known. No longer a daughter bound by loyalty and obedience, she was now a force of defiance. A dangerous, unpredictable element. Yet, he couldn’t suppress a twinge of pride at her transformation.
A small, thin smile crept onto his face, though his eyes remained hard. “You’re strong, Minka… perhaps even stronger than I had anticipated. But strength alone is never enough.” He clasped his hands behind his back, pacing the length of the chamber, the hum of machinery and data consoles filling the silence.
“Such raw power,” he mused aloud, his voice barely a whisper. “But raw power without guidance? It’s little more than a weapon wielded by emotion.” He let his words hang in the air, as if she were there to hear them, as if she might respond. “It’s only a matter of time before you realize the truth. Or I force it upon you.”
His steps slowed, and he glanced down at an ancient artifact lying on the table—a crystalline shard, faintly pulsing with the remnants of psychic energy. The fragment was all that remained of Eden’s essence, a connection he’d kept hidden, drawing on its power in secret. It was fragile now, barely holding its shape, but to him, it was the heart of everything. The final piece to bring Eden back, to restore what was once taken from him. Thinking of Eden, his memory drifted back to that... day.
The memory was burned into his mind like an eternal scar, a dark wound that festered in every thought, every breath he took. The Archivist’s once-sharp features were softened by sorrow as he sat alone in his dim laboratory, surrounded by the remnants of experiments, artifacts, and devices—all the fruits of his desperate quest for understanding. But on this night, no amount of knowledge could fill the void Eden’s absence left.
It had been an ordinary day, the kind that hardly stands out in memory, except that it was the last. Eden had been in the lab with him, her laughter filling the sterile space as she teased him about his latest obsession. She’d had a knack for grounding him, pulling him away from the abstract theories and complicated plans that had once consumed him. Together, they shared an unbreakable bond—a connection that transcended their individual pursuits.
But then, a visitor came. A man, or rather a being, unlike anything the Archivist had ever encountered. He had appeared as if from thin air, slipping through realities like a shadow. There had been no warning, no signal—only a flash, a crackling hum, and then silence as the stranger materialized, an agent of chaos from a realm beyond. The Archivist had only a second to react, just enough time to push Eden behind him as the intruder raised a weapon unfamiliar to any world he knew.
Eden’s voice rang out, clear and steady. “Stay back. Let him go, and you can have whatever you came for.” Her bravery in that moment was devastating, cutting through him like a blade. She had always been the strong one, her resolve a steady flame in the darkness. But the Archivist could feel the air ripple with an energy he could not contain, an unrelenting force that tore through the fabric of reality itself.
He could only watch, helpless and horrified, as the being unleashed a blast—a wave of energy that shattered everything in its path. Eden tried to shield him, raising her hand to counter the blast with a force he hadn’t known she possessed. But it wasn’t enough. The Archivist remembered the searing light, the unbearable sound, and then the sight of her falling, her hand slipping from his grasp as her life was torn from her.
When the light faded, the intruder was gone, leaving only silence and ash in his wake. Eden lay motionless on the ground, her face as serene as if she were only sleeping. The Archivist dropped to his knees, his hands trembling as he reached out to touch her, as though he could bring her back to life. But she was cold, her warmth slipping away like the remnants of a dream.
In the days that followed, he became a shadow of the man he once was. The grief was endless, all-consuming, filling him with a void no achievement, no knowledge, could ever fill. He withdrew into himself, shutting out the world, the memories of her smile, her voice haunting him at every turn.
And then, the anger came—a slow, smoldering rage that transformed him, forging him into something beyond human. He would not let her death be meaningless. He would bend reality itself to find her, to bring her back, no matter what the cost. His life, his ambitions, even his soul—nothing was too great a price to pay. He became the Archivist, a collector of secrets and power, gathering every shard of knowledge that might lead him closer to breaking the barrier between life and death.
But in his relentless pursuit, he lost himself. His compassion faded, his warmth turned cold, until he became a vessel for only two things: his grief and his purpose. In his obsession, he cut down anyone who stood in his way, convinced that they would only waste the precious seconds he could use to reach Eden. He turned his back on humanity, on love, on the fragile connections that once defined him.
And as he journeyed through endless realities, his memory of Eden began to shift, warped by his desperation and anger. She became a symbol of his failure, a haunting presence that drove him deeper into the darkness, compelling him to bend every law of nature, every moral boundary, to reclaim what was stolen from him. In his grief, he even began to resent those around him, seeing their happiness, their love, as a cruel mockery of what he had lost. His own daughter's gift left from Eden was no longer enough. Nothing could fill the emptiness left by Eden, and so everything else became an obstacle.
In the quiet of his lab, the Archivist stared into the distance, the ghost of his beloved forever imprinted in his mind. His hands, once filled with the promise of knowledge and creation, were now instruments of his relentless crusade, stained with the blood and ash of countless worlds. And yet, in the depths of his despair, a small part of him still remembered the warmth of her touch, the sound of her laughter. The memory of what he once was.
With a slow exhale, the Archivist stood, his gaze steely, a flicker of the man he had once been, now buried under the weight of loss and obsession. In his years of grief, he tried to find whatever killed Eden. But no trace. Not even a single piece of DNA or any biological matter can be traced back. As though the enemy is... nothing... a void... a nightmare... an unexplainable phenomenon that shouldn't be explained... something so wrong... so terrifying...
As the memory fades into the background of his mind, the Archivist's thoughts return to the present. He just acquired one of the strongest warrior's bodies and did some adjustments to it. Now, all he needs to do is to activate his full potential and with the power from this world... Eden... there's a chance that she can finally come back. But his daughter somehow became the biggest obstacle that stands before him and his wife.
The Archivist’s face settled back into its cold, impassive mask, his resolve unwavering. He would find a way, no matter the cost. The quest for Eden was all that mattered, and no one—neither Minka, Knight, or the countless others who stood against him—could stand in his way.
Ravager on the other hand is biting her nails in her room, she's sitting on her bed, and thinking about the future.
"Hey you okay? I've never seen you bite your nails like that." Knight said: "It's like the first time I saw you in such a nervous wreck."
Ravager looks at her then she looks down, she is thinking of what she can do. She want to kill her dad, she wanted to end it all, she wants to make sure that her father will never hurt anyone ever again but...at her current power, she can fight against Archivist but she will not be able to kill him and there is also a chance that she would fail and if that happens... she'll die for good. And if she died then no one can stop the Archivist.
"You're worried." Knight said: "You're worried that he's right, you're worried that you might mess up this chance where you can get your mother back. Am I right?"
"You know... sometimes it scares me that you can read my mind like an open book." Ravager said: "To answer that, yeah you are correct." She added.
"So what should we do?" Knight said: "We either risk everything and take the chance that we can get our loved one back or we stay the course and put an end to it and prevent anything worse from happening."
Ravager remained silent for a bit. But eventually, she replied: "I'd choose the latter."
"And this is why I am following you, because you know which one is more important." Knight said her eyes are showing admiration. She knows how much it hurts for Ravager to choose the latter, she knows how much her heart must've broken upon choosing what's right over her desire to get her mother back, but the thing is she chose it...and that's what made Knight admire her so much. Despite what she went through she still chose to protect others from suffering the same fate she suffered.