1835.

It was the tail end of the age of scientific revolution. This was what Galia called her era. But what she never mentioned was what ran in parallel with it.

The approaching end of the Industrial Revolution.

Galia came from a world where its own dominant species murdered each other for the sake of satisfying another’s bottomless greed. It was a world where someone like her had little sway or power. A world where she had to accept it as the norm and turn a blind eye to the suffering of the industrialized era.

“I came into this world thinking it would be different. My expectations were high when I saw the species that thrived here. It wasn’t just humans. Beastkin, Demi-Humans, Elves, Dwarves – it was like that out of a fantasy book.”

She recalled those sweet moments. Her distant past in this world was a blur to her, as it was not the memories that the Castigation Bird sought after. Rather, it was after her sins. The suffering Galia caused as she rose in notoriety.

Still, Galia focused on these tranquil moments, remembering what she was fighting for.

“Haaah. How quickly things turned for the worst. The threat of Anids and the monsters of Grandis did not compare to the threat of people.”

The Ateliers and the Kingdoms of Elysia reminded Galia of the industrialized Earth. How corporations used humans as a resource to generate profits. What became of them was none of the company’s concern. They could always be replaced.

To Galia, it felt like this aspect of humanity was ingrained into their DNA. Humans had the tendency to place a value on one another. When life could be quantified, and when people saw each other as dispensable, then the natural outcome would be exploitation.

People stopped becoming people in Galia’s eyes for the longest time.

“[Because It Has Been Seen]. It became easy to believe in prejudices because of all I had seen. The extreme prejudice of those who did not belong was the reason why I became the way I am.”

Galia was shown the bloodshed that followed wherever she went as she followed a sole star in the night sky. Her frail form gradually grew. She rarely fought with her bare hands, and instead utilized a weapon that fired a small, tiny yet lethal projectile.

“Dwarves manufactured my weapons. The few I liberated marked me for death by an Atelier. The freedom I gave to enslaved Elves drew a target on my back. The goodwill I brought from Earth, hoping to start anew, turned me into an outcast in this world.”

A nomadic Galia wandered the expanses of Elysia. Some nights she’d find herself roaming an endless dune, following a lone star. There wasn’t a Region she hadn’t explored; a region she hadn’t once spread her name or aided in some capacity.

But even so, her good deeds were seen as evil by many. Word of mouth became truth. Those who saw her deeds did not see them in full. And if they did, they’d remain ignorant of her. A human like Galia at the time, before she became a Color or a Beholder, was but a mere human.

Stolen from its original source, this story is not meant to be on Amazon; report any sightings.

And as a result, the lone Galia could not save everyone. She witnessed more deaths than lives she saved. The hand that reached out to help pulled back more dead bodies than living. And even then, it was easy to blame her for not being able to do enough.

Or worse, there were times when Galia saw that people would have rather be left to die.

“I realized that this world lacked a moral figure. I desperately sought to become that like the star I followed. But even stars are not infallible. Even I had my shortcomings. I slaughtered countless. I overlooked details for the sake of convenience. I colluded with enemies for the sake of achieving my own goals.

Galia remembered the endless dunes. She remembered the figure that emanated the starlight that she had followed since the day she entered this world.

How that hand reached out towards her and asked her to wear a mark on her right hand.

“I came to understand that there was no such thing as a star worth following. I had to become one myself. But to do that required losing fragments of my humanity… How much did I sacrifice to become numb to all of this?”

Galia’s form eventually returned to her former self, save that her eyes were still dark brown – as they once were so long ago. Back when she could confidently call herself ‘human’. Back when the Curse of the Descent had not yet taken her arms.

“I allowed Iscario to become an Apostle so that I could grow closer to the fabled God of Puritas. I plotted to murder the Princess of Paradise. I worked as the lapdog of an accursed Angel of blood. I… left so many things unattended. I was supposed to be the one who would deliver justice. But I became stagnant myself…”

Suddenly, her voice shifted as she heard a ticking in the back of her mind.

“I scoured the world for 12 Apostles to make up what I knew I would one day lose. I chose to make a name for myself to give the illusion of hope. It was erased.”

“What is left of me now but a remnants of an outdated ‘Galia’ searching to become something that no longer exists?”

The ticking became stronger, but so did the sound of a morning bird. Galia was torn between two worlds, unable to determine what she was. She was aware of her sins, but even so…

“I must become better. What wrongs have I conceived of? What do you seek from me, O Bird who punishes evil deeds?”

Galia reached into her chest. Her nails sunk into her supple flesh, tearing away the near indestructible black, feathered coat. She grinned darkly as blood ran down the side of her chin, prying open her chest to reveal the sins and truth on her ribs.

“I know what I did. I know why I did it. I know what I am. But I lament that I am not better.”

Her exposed heart carried a faint golden glow, like that of the Screaming Galleries. But unlike them, Galia was able to reveal the truth of her sins, as well as the context behind them. To Galia herself, they were justified.

But not only that – these sins had already been paid for.

“O Bird of suffering. O Bird of mourning. O Bird that laughs and shuts its eyes to the truth and its own hypocrisy…”

“… Don’t close your eyes here. Don’t turn your eyes from the truth. I am what you fear the most. I am a sinner who justifies their wrongs. I am not blind to the suffering. But neither is it for naught.”

“Bird that guards the Gates of Paradise…”

“… I have already endured my punishment, and I will always pay the price for as long as I live.”

“Can you say the same?”

Galia felt a compulsion begin to take over her. Then, she spotted a figure standing across from her on the bridge.

“Is that what you see yourself as?”

The Jury-like figure asked her.

At the same time, another voice spoke to her from behind.

“Justice must never stray behind Judgement. You are already aware of your flaws. I can help you fix that.”

That voice belonged to Frost’s.

As much as she wished to listen to Frost, an irrational force prevented her from making the obvious choice.

It was as though she was stuck between two worlds.

“Elysia… You’ve come for me again.”