“Why did I run, fuckin— why?”

Kraków’s fourth floor, the floor with the guilds, the floor with Solah’s temple. I snuck in, avoiding any of the priests that might stop me, and here I sat, huddled against the wall of the catacombs, staring at the statue of a Solah, the same one from nearly a week earlier.

“Fuckin stupid, haha— Hah, ah fuck.”

I stared at the statue, my head leaning to the side as I rested my bottle-bearing arm on my knee.

“What is it you wanted for her? Cause I can sure as shit doubt it’s this.”

Silence.

“What is it you wanted from me?”

More silence as I took a swig of the bottle I snatched from some bar for a half dozen coins. It tasted, or more so, felt, like a cheap rye whiskey.

And here I am, destroying what may as well be my liver.

My sense of self was shattered now; any distinction of who I was, gone, and incomprehensible to how I could have ever imagined myself. I was in denial over it, wanting any other reality to be true than this one. I was without direction, and the visions earlier in the week only cemented that. I received no guidance like Elexis, or Juro, our parents. Not from her, the only time she seemed to give a damn was the moment she stopped us from killing ourselves, warning us about the bulette, and granting us violent impact. I wished I was anywhere else, hell, purgatory, endless blackness, roaming the woods of earth as some mindless, hell-bent monster. I thought of my alternative to this, drinking myself into a gutter on Earth.

Sure, I wouldn’t have taken the same out that the others took.

I looked at Wyrmstooth on my hip.

“Naaah, we couldn’t do that anymore, could we? Why else would you have me take her place? Cause you know I won’t, huh?’”

I looked at the statue, gesturing the bottle towards it. The whiskey was welcoming, a margin stronger than mead or wine, as I took another sip at it.

“No, you saw something in us, didn't you? Why am I here, huh? Did you ever think to fucking tell me? I know damn well that wherever this goes—“

I grabbed at Wyrmstooth in my opposite hand, shaking it where it sat.

“--that you sure as hell do.”

I stared at the statue, unmoving, unspeaking.

“What will this fuckin gain? Why the fuck put me here if you were just going to bury the memories into my mind? Back into my mind? Fuck, I don’t even know.”

I shook my head.

“Why do you need me here?”

I nearly stuttered as I spoke.

“Why— why not her? Why me? Why hyper-impoze this shit onto me?! Why destroy all I could hang onto? Give her her fucking life back already! If I can’t have my mind, then take me from this shit! She’d have it better now anyway, wouldn’t she?! Is what she has already not enough?”

I took a swig, standing shakily, the whiskey hitting me.

“Why won’t you say a fuckin word?! You did then! In that forest! When I was gonna fucking kill myself then! Fuck!”

I threw the bottle at the statue, the clay shattering and dousing it in liquor.

“I said fuckin– myself. What else am I?! Aidan? Staff Sergeant Catan? Not anymore. It’s been so damn long, eight years? I’m not me, with–”

I fell to my knees.

“Who am I? Please? I need to know.”

The welling of emotions and tears finally overcame me as I leaned forward against the statue, grasping at it to keep myself upright.

“Why do I need to be here? To be broken down like this? I can’t take much more of this. I don’t want to take this from her, not with what I’ve seen. Not with what she’s been through. She deserves better than this. She deserves her life!”

I was at my wit's end. I looked into the crudely carved face of the wyrm. I saw every memory of this life, replaying them repeatedly to myself like some car crash I could never turn away from.

“Am I just an echo of some dead person? Or am I Kiyomi? You’ve done well enough to blur the fuckin distinction. Please, just fucking tell me so I can move on!”

I was crying now, suppressing any noise I could to avoid being found out.

“Please, just talk to me, to me. Give me something, anything.”

I wept.

“I can’t do this anymore.”

I shuddered, the tears welling forth while I squeezed my eyes shut. It was probably hours I was there, not the typical dilated time frame. I wallowed in my self-pity, begging all the while for an answer, until finally, I passed out, huddled in the corner.

…

…

…

When I came to, I was staring at the wall, and I was not alone. Iron boots, flanked by furs that lay on the ground in a misshaped pile. The person didn’t speak, and they were faceless until I raised my eyes. I felt them widen as I took the person in, or more accurately, her in.

You are awake, yes?

The tall, metal-clad oni, red in complexion and framed by a mass of black hair.

“You.”

You begged my appearance, did you not?

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“You.”

She crossed her arms,

“You!”

I rushed to my feet, the effects of the whiskey barely there anymore to inhibit my movements. I stumbled back, my fists clenched at my sides as I struggled to take her in. She was a giant, towering over me at nearly several feet in height.

Would you have your answers? Or will you simply keep saying that?

“You fuckin bitch!”

I rushed forward, trying to throw myself upon her as I swung my arm out, slamming it into the wall with a loud crack against what felt like stone. Nothing accompanied the impact save the earth. Looking at my fist, it was enclosed firmly in her own, the armored plats and strange mix of leather and scale texture rough against my skin.

Did you believe that would have achieved something? If you actually had struck home?

I looked up, she seemed less than pleased, and carrying the same deadpan expression she bore in memory.

“What the hell else would I do? Did you think I’d be thankful?!”

Holy shit, she is here, here in front of me. Solah. Or am I just hallucinating? A dream?

Not a dream, I am here.

She spoke as casually as if she heard my thoughts. She released my hand as she dropped her arms, taking a step towards me. I was shocked, lost for words.

Well?

She looked down at me, expecting something.

Well?!

She sneered, looking down at me.

Tch, you beg and mewl for me, that I show myself, and now you’ve taken to silence? Stubborn.

She turned around, standing in the doorway. She looked into the hall, then sighed before turning to face me. She approached quickly, the distance closing at such a rate that I thought she was about to somehow venture the same treatment I tried the moment I saw her. I flinched, unsure of what would come, only to open my eyes to her looking into them.

Will you say nothing? Now that I’ve shown myself?

“You’re actually here.”

My words may as well have fallen on deaf ears at that moment as Solah eyed me with disappointment, and I slumped against the wall next to the statue. She looked down on me still, searching, looking for something. We sat like that for some time, and all I could think was, why? Why now? Why here? It was odd, feeling the same resentment as we felt then. When she came to us in the woods, our blade at our stomach.

“Why me?”

She looked at Wyrmstooth.

“Why me? And not her? Why not just give her this life back? Haven’t I done enough for her?”

Solah remained silent.

“Why make me go through this? Why am I the one that you need? Why not someone else? Do you just not give a damn about her?!”

I spat, trying to bear all the anger and will I had to confront the goddess from living memory. I wanted to cry again, but I couldn't, I’d done enough before passing out, and my eyes hurt still, nearly rubbed raw. She seemed disappointed, her expression taking on something akin to the sneer and look of sadness she’d given us before bringing me into this world.

Is that truly all you have to say? Is that your only concern?

I was stopped in my tracks for a second as she asked her own questions, her left cheek twitching as she squinted.

What?

“What the hell do you mean? I’m asking the fucking question! What is it you want from me? Why am I here?!”

I steadied my posture, making myself seem far more confrontational than I was sure I was even trying to be.

With your memories, you haven’t come to the conclusion yourself?

A sneer, a pointed reminder at my experiences over Kiyomi’s, the monsters, their reappearance here in this world.

“And what of her?! For how long do you want me to play this game, huh?! Am I just supposed to fuckin pick up for her? What about her?!”

Solah stepped forward, her expression constantly shifting between disappointment and regret. It was hard to track where exactly her mind was, even more so with her next movement. Her lumbering frame reached down and grabbed me by my throat.

And what would you have her do, hmm? What of those others you’ve so keenly wrapped around your fingers?

She lifted me, pressing forward until my back was flush against the wall while I kicked at the air and tried to scrape my nails at the wall for some kind of purchase. I’d tried to pry her hand away on instinct, but it was hopeless. She was immovable as if even my super strength alone were shadowed by a sole existence of matter.

You still wonder at why you are here? Are you so short-sighted– You fail to see past your self-loathing! Why did I not see this coming in the weave? Of course, this would be your train of thought.

Solah clenched her teeth, closing her eyes and exhaling sharply as she shook her head. Upon reopening her eyes, she stared at the corner as her expression grew more intense. She did not turn her head, her eyes shooting to the corner and staring me down.

Shortsighted and strong-willed, just the same as before. Unless–

Her eyes went wide as if she was experiencing an epiphany.

A different approach.

Silence, long and unbroken. The air was leaving me, different than before, I actually somehow feared for my life in this scenario. Something I couldn't simply steel myself for, not when something like Solah was what held me by my neck. It wasn’t until I could barely comprehend anything but my mind and lungs screaming for air that I was released, falling to the ground and coughing. My sight returned to me, and I watched as she kneeled, and for some reason, I tried to cower.

You ask that I take responsibility for what I’ve done. That I give you direction?

She tilted her head, her own hair partially obscuring her eyes as the light of the torches reflected off of them.

“That you’ll give her this life back.”

For some odd reason, a betrayal of the few emotions either I, or Kiyomi ever witnessed was displayed in sharp detail across her face. Solah smirked as if she could read every thought or intent like she was playing at some kind of game.

No.

“What?”

I looked back into her eyes, praying that my own perception did not betray me.

I said, no. That is for you to discover, yourself.

The smirk slowly disappeared, and with that, she stood at full height, almost lording over me.

“What the hell does that mean?!”

It means that you are searching for the wrong conclusion, and I will not help you, if all you remain to do is follow this path of self-depredation.

Solah’s face was lacking all emotion now, absent of any weakness and betrayal of her words through body language or emotion.

Don’t, please! It’s becoming unbearable, I– I’m not sure how much more of this tearing at my mind I can take!

I fell to my side, my body pulling itself into the fetal position now.

“The least you could do is let me keep my mind! For god's sake, I can’t tell who I am anymore!”

Solah looked down at me in silence.

Then do not bear with it. Let yourself break, would that not vindicate everything you claim of yourself? Even now? It’s all you claim yourself good for when you’ve proven otherwise.

Her brows furrowed as I watched her through the gaps in my fingers and hair. It wasn’t a dream, not when I could feel the cold air against my skin, my reddened eyes, and the sweat on my back. Another pause.

“Why the fuck am I here?”

I trembled breaking my eyes away from hers, trembling as I spoke.

“My memories, my personality— Hah, for what there is even fuckin left of it… Couldn’t you have just guided her?”

Silence.

“What even is it that you want?”

More of the insufferable silence.

You know the answer now, as pointed as the gift at your hip, don’t you? Judging by what I’ve told you so far? I know what you would have come to.

“‘See, you fuckin say ‘you know the answer.’ But you know what? I’m pretty sure I fucking don’t.”

My voice was meek, to the point I was sure if it were anyone but Solah in front of me, they would never have heard those words.More silence, and I was drawn to looking into her eyes once more.

She was weak; could she have survived otherwise? Could she have braved what she has until this point? With no other perspective than her birth? Come to know Vaughn? Helped Beryl grieve?

Her eyes peered down at me, unmoving, unblinking, almost statue-like.

Would you say, by your reason, you didn’t deserve this? Continuity? A second chance?

“What does that have to do with–”

My voice cracked.

Do you wish to know why you died? How ‘you’ died?

What?

Emotionless, cold, almost spiteful.

You died, mind adrift in a sea of blackness as your subconscious murdered and razed everything around you.

Don’t—

You did not die because of a thief or because you simply gave up at that time. Not because of a heart attack or any other natural cause. No, you were a very significant exception to time.

“I’m begging you! I’ll do whatever you ask! Anything! Don’t bring me into this world, ignorant of what came of everything I’ve known—“

I wasn’t sure why, I was screaming the words, sheer wrongness overwhelming my sense of reality alongside the sheer horror.

The end of Aidan Catan. The end of that life. The end of existence, for you, as you were, succumbed to what you would leave her to face.

“Just tell me what you want!”

I yelled, my fingers digging into my scalp as I tried to force my hands into my ears. It did little to stifle the words as they entered my mind as clear as if she spoke directly into them.

Live your life as you see fit since you beg for a reality that was never the case to begin with. Live as Kiyomi or live as Aidan Catan. It will not matter which of either, all that matters is how you come to accept it.

A pause.

The memories you carry now, the sorrow, the hatred, the happiness, and the hope.

Her voice took a softer tone.

Born as you are by the flow of time on earth? You are, what, eighteen? Nearly nineteen? Even though your mind fails to mature past the day your previous one collapsed under his curse.

I was silent, curling myself into a ball, wanting the world, all of existence, to close in around me. She stood once more, turning to the door. I fell to my side, my tail tucking closely around my body as I watched her approach it once more.

Let me better frame every other question you asked since you now have her memories and dreams as well. What are you supposed to do? Continue the cycle, unbroken. Outside of that? I do not care. Do whatever you will. It is your life, no one else’s. There is no one you can trade places with, no life that continues in place of your own. No person to release thy vessel to in a second bid of life but the mind you carry now.

I took another pause as I closed my eyes, and when I opened them, any trace of her once being in the room disappeared. Everything came rushing at once, the same as when I awoke from my flashback, and all I could do was whimper. I was unsure of how long I sat like that, only that everything went black, as I drifted off.

…

…

…

Setpoint, convergence, override, Kiyomi Jormanr. Dataset, override. Designator override, Kiyomi Jormangandr.

…

…

…

Lorn still possesses the diary, it is the final piece you need to understand.

…

…

…

This life is yours to do with as you please. You did not want to die. Is that not what you begged for?