A cat’s meow, dogs barking.

Two, no one footstep approaches the alley,

but scratch that.

A disruption in the air raises hairs.

Looking, searching,

A red-haired man looks and searches,

all alone

Looking for something suspicious,

Looking suspicious

His brother greets him once again,

And again he greets back

Perhaps not what he was looking for,

But something he needed to find

----------------------------------------

“I don’t think it’s a coincidence I’m finding you every day,” said Reginn.

“Well,” said Elem as he sat down on the ledge of concrete, “It’s a small world.”

“What are you here to talk to me about?”

“You already know, don’t you?”

“...I thought you were the forest’s guardian,” said Reginn, turning his attention back to the search.

“Precisely why I’m training Har-Meggido. He’s my… spiritual successor.”

“Heh, him?”

“Well, he’s just a baby now, but he’ll get better,” continued Elem, “My heart lies not with the trees, but with the people,”

“...Then let’s get this over with,”

Reginn finally stopped his search and turned toward his brother. It was an unlikely dark alleyway, not a particularly great place to look for a person. However, he was not simply looking for clues, but feeling them in every sense possible. He trusted his senses, and it brought him to this small place. There must’ve been something here.

“It’s about Kyriekaos,”

“...Well, go on.”

“I want you to be careful about how you present yourself to the people through her, because the Reginn I know, would probably wish for glory, right?”

“...What then?”

“Look, you need to understand that people changed, they no longer react to violence the same way, or crave punishment the same way — there’s a reason public executions don’t exist anymore.”

“...They don’t?”

“No! Look, I won’t force you to do anything or change your ways — I’ve tried before and it never works. All I’m telling you is that there are many things you don’t know. You may have known just about everything in your era, but everything changed — and you should do some research before making a brash decision.”

“What do you think I’m doing right now,” said Reginn, “Looking for food?”

“...Look, just be careful, alright? I want to have lunch with all my siblings, and if you get crucified, or the kingdom falls, I won’t be able to do that.”

“...Fine.”

“Thanks… By the way, I’ve contacted Odinn. It looks like he’s working on something, but he should be here by next month — try to survive until then.”

“...I’ll consider it.”

“See you later then.”

Elem once again disappeared into a weight of biomass, leaves scattering where he once stood. Fitting of the child of the forest, he was indeed one with nature.

Reginn thought about what Elem told him.

You might be reading a pirated copy. Look for the official release to support the author.

Time. It seemed that time haunted him no matter when or where he was, like how it taunted everything else.

It was something outside of his control — even the Goddess’s control. If he could have anything in the world at the moment, he would most definitely choose the ability to change time. The future, present, past. He had many regrets and he was sure he would have regrets in the future as well.

Elem was right. Reginn had some more searching to do before finding Kyriekaos.

----------------------------------------

“...You’re not the one who killed me, are you?”

The little girl was back within the Iron Maiden, Attila speaking to the “beautiful self”.

“What do you mean?”

“You wield the beast around like a bat, but you seem fragile and afraid of something. In the end, all I can see is a child.”

“...”

Attila stood up from the position of defeat, regaining her confidence. However, it was not rage that fueled her crusade, but an ever-clear perspective. In the past few days, she had time to reflect and accept various truths. Her mother’s death, the death of many victims as well as the fact that she was a victim. However, perhaps out of the instinctual need to survive or a personal drive for justice, she stood her ground.

Her eyes were focused and confident and showed no malice. It was a state of perfection, the fear and anxiety destroyed for but a moment. Attila was not ready to fight and die trying, but to master her fate.

“Who are you?”

“...I am Kyriekaos—”

“No. There’s something different about you. You asked me for a wish, and you don’t seem to want to torture me particularly. There’s something clumsy about this — controlled. Who are you?”

“...I-I can’t”

“...Well, let me tell you who I am first. Firstly, my name is Attila Schiavi. Secondly, I love people and justice. Thirdly, I’m just trying to survive in this world the right way, no matter what anyone says otherwise, and right now, I think I’m doing the right thing.”

Kyriekaos thought for a little bit. Perhaps the real reason the beast was attracted to Attila was because she reminded it of the heroes it saw in father’s books — something he wanted them to be. Something unachievable for a monster, the beauty of a tower.

“...I don’t know who I am. I don’t know who the flower is either.”

“What do you mean?”

“...”

“Come on, you can tell me.”

“...How do you know I’m not lying, that I’m pretending to be weak?”

“That doesn’t matter to me. I’ll follow the compass of my heart.”

Has Kyriekaos ever wished to be rescued from the tower? No, it was but a prison for her — an eternal sentence. However, she still wanted someone — anyone — to know her story, the true story.

“My father… That’s one of the only things I know. He created us with… the souls of criminals, but with memories erased. Criminals who were once to be executed were given new life to serve the Atma-Kaizer, but something went wrong. There was only supposed to be one of us — though which one I’m not sure. Maybe I was the mistake, or maybe it was the flower, but father loved us both. He wanted us to become heroes, but we’re one being split into two.”

“...What can you do?”

“I’m not sure… Most of the time, I wait in the darkness, but sometimes, I get these visions, and I can affect the flower and the cross and the possessed. Sometimes even the flower too. But sometimes, the flower controls me.”

“Do you know what the flower is?”

“...I think that’s enough questions for today.”

Kyriekaos’s voice did not change, but Attila could sense a slight shift in tone. According to the “childish” Kyriekaos, multiple death row inmates were merged together, and then their memories were erased to create the ultimate weapon. How many minds were there, and why were some of them still maliceful after their memories were erased, what even was the flower anyway? It was in no way human, and seemed to be made of bodily matters, so what did it represent?

“...Who are you now?”

“I wonder. I can’t tell myself. We all share these… new memories, and have none of our past. Does that make us the same people I wonder. But there’s definitely something beyond our memories that defines who we are — something Father could not erase.”

The girl began to walk away, attempting to leave Attila alone in the dark once again.

“Wait, I have just one more question.”

“...”

“Why do you desire to be beautiful?”

“...Maybe it’s from our past lives, maybe it’s because we strive to become what our father wishes, or maybe it’s from the flowers.”

Kyriekaos waited for a response, now engaged in the conversation. Attila was the only other person she had ever talked to sincerely — or perhaps she was tricking herself, she could never tell, but anyone was better than father.

“...I’ll never forgive you for killing my mother, but I can’t stand to watch a child suffer.”

“Heh. We’re death row inmates and a hero, not children.”

“...Age doesn’t make you not a child, nor does appearance.”

“That sounds like something Father would say,” said the “serious” Kyriekaos, “though I suppose the contexts are different. But I must warn you against saving me, a broken cup will never return to its original form.”

“Well, you’ll be surprised to see what the future has in store.”

“...Good night.”

Darkness.