“Mama! Brother is bothering the moths again!”

The voice of a much younger Princess exclaimed with neither disdain nor annoyance. Her cheerful expression reflected the type of person she was as she happily recounted the story to her mother.

Chains rattled in the darkness. Only a single source of light sat ahead, flickering lightly in the rhythm of a beating heart.

A motherly voice then spoke.

And it carried an air of unparalleled authority.

< “I reached a moment in my life where I was finally at peace.” >

< “A winged bird found a rock to make its nest after a long journey of restless flight.” >

< “I awakened unexpectedly from my stasis.” >

< “And I knew when my eyes saw nothing but the clear-blue waters of this world’s ocean that we were finally free.” >

The giggling of the Princess was cut by the laughter of a young Iscario. Clashing blades and the sound of spilled blood accompanied his roars. He was the opposite of the Princess, who retold tales like a child would, but as for him…

< “But…” >

“We’re all filthy things, right mother? Yet we are the closest to being something beautiful thanks to you. It’s a shame. Even worms will grow wings after being encased in the pale web. But for sister and I, we have human limitations. We have not yet grown our own tails or wings.”

< “Happily ever after can only exist in tales.” >

< “Reality is no fairytale for those who live it.” >

< “The screaming, squirming worm will inevitably grow its wings and break free from its cage. Its short-lived life thereafter is disregarded by utter fulfillment.” >

< “Birds on the other hand, are born perfect.” >

< “Birds are prideful creatures.” >

< “They lose all meaning when their feathers are plucked, and their wings are snipped, and when they’re thrown into a cage.” >

< “Beneath the feathers that prop it up lays a vulnerable heart.” >

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< “So I ask you, my children, why do birds fly?” >

A warped version of the palace unfolded before them. Chains of the Chained Theocracy were prevalent here as were a series of passages that led deeper towards the flickering light. Also leading towards it was the pale, metal ribbon of the mainspring.

Frost’s suspicions of a prison were immediately confirmed, though the Princess adamantly continued to deny this even though prison cells were built into the walls. Once again, they were far too large to house humans, yet skeletal remains sat within.

They did not die from starvation. The bones were far too mangled to have been caused by a human. Irregular bones also existed amongst the piles, poking through the mound like a flower in a pile of ballast stones.

The roots of a pale tree ran through the walls from the ceiling, terminating in each prison cell. Massive root networks ran elsewhere in the direction of the city.

“Reminds me of the Black Dahlia.”

“The Black what?” The Princess whispered, looking around to see where Dark Memoria went.

“An unrelated Corrupted. It uses roots to feed on sins. I wouldn’t be surprised if the Advent of Judgement did the same. Paradise thrived off sin, huh. Just as Paradiso did.”

“You’re saying more strange things. Like mother did. What we heard… that was her talking. I heard myself as well.”

She contemplated something in a deep silence afterwards. In the meantime, Frost slowly moved towards the grandeur gates that were decorated with hanging chains. The scene was reminiscent of the War in Heaven within the Nexus. It was far less chaotic and ruined, but there was evidence of an immense struggle.

“Sorry, but it’ll only get stranger from here on out. Your mother’s voice sounds familiar. Maybe it’s because a lot of people I know have asked the same question.”

“About the birds?”

“About the birds. Why do they fly. Think you have an answer for it?”

“I never had the chance to tell mother my answer.”

“Hey, then why don’t you tell me?”

“Only if you go first.”

* * *

Frost’s answer was like most.

Birds flew because they had wings.

The Princess on the other hand wondered if that was the case.

“Then mother should have been able to fly.”

Her utter raised questions that Frost wanted to ask. But her voice could not cut through the searing air that reduced the Vexed Consanguinity to steam. It was odd. [Oblivion Lock] should have warded them away. However, the source of the blood came from something deeper within.

Blood ran through crevices etched into the pale floor, revealing a layer of stone. Tearstone grew over it like moss. Vexed Consanguinities emerged from the smallest sliver of blood as bleeding rods were thrown their way.

She dashed through the open hall without issue. At the same time, her flames rendered the blood as she pushed further into the endless, vast corridor seeking to uncover further memories.

A flash of white blinded her for a split second.

Suddenly, a memory unraveled before her very eyes.

* * *

“You survived the stasis and ended up in this world as well.” A faceless figure coldly spoke. “Others will say that it’s the same world. But I believe it’s a world ripe to make our wrongs right.”

This voice belonged to the Red Wing.

Pale feathers intertwined with the falling red like the leaves of autumn. The memory took place outside of the dungeon. The mountainous backdrop of Grandis enclosed them. Hills and plains stretching out towards the untouched ocean confused Frost as to where this memory took place exactly.

Two figures stood side by side. The figure – an Angel – with red wings embraced the faceless one whose face was censored by a blinding light. Behind her was a pearlescent egg from whence she had hatched from.

“How long has it been?” The familiar voice, which was undoubtedly the Princess’ mother asked, undeterred by the sickness of her arousal after countless years in stasis.

“Too long now. I believe you are the last of us to awaken. Aside from your miserable trumpet. She still sleeps in eternal stasis. But there are those of us that wish to change that to an eternal rest.”

The Red Wing uttered expectantly, as if the white-winged Angel would immediately begin salivating like a starving dog. However, Frost felt the gaze behind that light scan the world like a newborn child.

Eventually, glimmers of golden eyes revealed themselves as hands moved to touch where her tail should have been.

“Is this Paradise?”

“You shall call this place whatever you wish. As we have in places elsewhere. Are you not surprised?”

The Red Wing took a knee to the Angel, offering her utmost respect. The eyes of the tail-less Angel only stared at her passively, as if wondering why she was prostrating herself before her.

“Of course not. You must have expected this. Welcome to this world called by the name of the traitor. I recommend you begin the extraction process.”

The grass beneath the bare feet of the pale Angel immediately began to turn white. Her mere presence coated the world with the silky webs of a spider. At the same time, the Red Wing slashed her palm open using her thumb, bleeding herself before wiping it across the pale grass.

“Nourishment for your holiness. Fresh from the turmoil of the arrival of the Collective Compendium of All Knowledge.”

The year was somewhere near 0 PA. Frost recalled that it was around that time when the Second Advent – the Eternal Library – made an appearance and changed the world. An era of violence and unfathomable powers nearly destroyed Elysia at the time.

And to think that an Angel of all things was involved in it. No, not involved, but reveled in the bloodshed. Bloodstained teeth laid hidden behind the Red Wing’s wicked smile; her razor-sharp rows having claimed countless.

“… Your holiness? Were their sins of contempt not enough?”

“Uriel. Why is that war has returned when it all was supposed to end?” The resignation in the voice of the pale-winged Angel caused the Princess to gasp as she silently uttered: “War was always here…”

The golden eyes lingered on the ocean.

They stared into a place far beyond the tides.

“All I wanted was to wake up from this nightmare of cycles.”

* * *

The memory continued.

At the same time, Frost powered through the Vexed Consanguinities. The hallway seemed endless, but she could feel the subtle ticking grow louder, as did the light of the Genesis Stone.

The walls steadily turned to a shade of black. It progressed further until they were engulfed in total darkness. The red streaks widened into a long stream. The stream then turned into a river.

“Paradise was created for one purpose – to bring forth a seed of man to germinate my garden. I was still a Star in essence, but my form was unapologetically human as though I had fallen from grace. The pale forest I was once known for allured many. But for the longest time…”

The early days of Paradise saw no discrimination nor crime, theft, or hunger. It was a virtuous place in a turbulent time. As a result, it gathered flocks of people from around Grandis over generations, feeding and fueling the pale Angel deep within.

The belly of the pale Angel grew though she had no lover, and the pale castle grew overhead like the herculean trunk of a great tree.

“… Paradise was free from sin until the day a golden tree sprouted from my garden. Then they all came to take what was rightfully mine. Both within my garden, and the second life within my womb.”