—The Past Revisited—

—1000 Years Ago—

Times of yore, feelings of fleetingness. Hearts basking in the wind, emotions on the line. Two of unlikeliness, an area of uniting. Feelings growing over the passing time, those of differing worlds. Venturing vast distances, embracing in the blissfulness of the other. Simpleness in their experiences, closeness over the years. Everything riding on the line, that Tyrant's castle. The throne room in a state of pitifulness, one opposing what is reason. Gasping for air, Cyra upon her knee. Lævateinn staking in the ground behind her, her father standing before her. Eyes of pitiableness upon her, potential locking away from unwillingness. Raising her head, that blade of her father's directing at her neck. Sweat running down the side of her face, those eyes of hatred upon the one ahead of her. Disappointment within his daughter, wishing for something more.

"Potential that's wasted, we're done here." He turns from Cyra, walking away.

Distantness of the past, one once filling with love, hatred consuming him. Those of differing realms, a devil rising to heights far beyond his own. Stepping within the domain of another, challenging a goddess. Defeat of the result, that one falling below. A hand of gentleness reaching out, grabbing hold of his own. Emotions of simpleness, those traveling the worlds. Feelings over the passing time, a life of joyfulness. Everything slipping out of his hands, cruelty of the realms. Yearning in teaching his child this, yet one refusing in embracing her potential. Eyes trembling, her father moving further away. Decision of reprehensibility, one abandoning her.

Lowering her head, that one no more than the past. Hands of smallness, everything slipping out of her grasp. Loathing the battlefield, her heart residing elsewhere. Hatred at her depths, agony upon the heart. Lowering from the sky, wings of shakiness. Sinking further into the depths, despair gripping at her. Unable in ascending, a voice incapable of reaching. An approaching presence, her vision towards Ardin. That devil kneeling to her, his grip upon her shoulder. Chilling his touch is, her eyes upon his grasp. Disgust boiling inside of her, hitting his hand away.

"Do not dare touch me!" she yells.

Painfulness of the heart, feelings of inadequacy. Hostility inside of her home, never able in escaping the clutches of the Tyrant. Unwillingness in battling, loathing in taking up arms. One yearning for the endless sky, venturing for vast distances. Meeting one of firmament, her hand of gentleness towards him. Smiling of brightness within the presence of the other, unhappiness towards another. Shattering tips, falling to the land. Wings unable in flying, an abyss drawing closer. Words setting fire to Ardin, that young woman continuously looking down on others. Inferiority in her power, anger rising within him.

"Hmph."

Those of the land and sky, differing realms of two. Hearts basking in the bliss of the wind, emotions riding along. Feelings of simpleness, words inside of a lock. Patiently awaiting another, frustration over the years. That one continuously retreating into his shell, a dream nearing its conclusion. Resisting the reason all around, both agreeing in continuing onward. Desperately holding on, yearning in making the nigh impossible into an actuality. Agitation at her depths, defeat at the hands of the Tyrant. Loathing the one before her, his hand raising, swiftly striking the devil with the back of it.

"Ugh!"

Knocking the wind out of her, that young woman falling back on the ground. Painfulness staggering her, her vision weakly upon him. A battle draining her, one incapable of defending herself. Those intruding upon happiness, everything slipping between her fingers. Soaring along the wind, numerous years within the presence of the other. Hearts of warmness, smiling of brightness. A morrow of somberness within this path, that maiden resisting this reason. Desiring for the endless wind, venturing with one of closeness, her heart belonging elsewhere.

"You're still looking at me with those eyes? You've lost, now hold true to your father's words." He strictly speaks.

Dreadfulness within this occurrence, everything slipping out of her hands. Two traveling the worlds, feelings of simpleness. Hearts basking in the bliss of the wind, emotions growing over the passing time. Patiently waiting, refusing in ending the dream. Unwillingness in listening to those words, malevolence reacting, extending from her body. Gripping the hilt of Lævateinn, immediately rising, hastily swinging for the head of the demon. That devil instantly grabbing her head, slamming her into the ground. Impact of heaviness, the floor cracking around them. Devastation from the vision of the young woman, blood screaming down her face.

"Valor..."

Desires of deepness, a heart yearning for the endless distance. Hostility inside of a home, incapability of severing her ties from it. A life within the dictation of another, that heart of dreadfulness. Painfulness upon the body, one seeking the bliss of the wind. Falling further, sinking into the abyss. Vision blurring by the moment, her body shutting down. Unable in resisting the temptation of rest, everything slowly going dark around her. One trying to oppose, efforts in vein. That life of happiness leaving her hands, agony at her depths.

"You're quite a handful ya know that?" annoyance expressing from his tone.

Emotions far within, words inside of a lock. Two venturing over the years, feelings of simpleness. One of firmament, the other walking the land. Unlikeliness of their meeting, yet a most welcoming occurrence. Timidness of the one above, patience from the other below. Those of closeness, living a dream of adventure. That life coming apart, reality steadily setting in. Yearning for the nigh impossible, dreadfulness at the depths. That devil kneeling to her, witnessing her losing consciousness. Lævateinn falling to her side, hitting against the ground. Malevolence slowly calming from her, soon entirely evaporating. No longer able in resisting, that maiden falling into a slumber of deepness.

"Good, rest." Ardin standing, calmly turning from her.

—Present Time—

Emotions of illness throughout the years, anger boiling at her depths. One once filling with love for the worlds, hatred consuming her. A heart desperately trying to maintain its softness, feelings flowing out. Torment in times of the past, inescapability of her torture. That faintest light guiding her way, her hand reaching for the nigh impossible. Time going by, forcing onward. Selfishness leading her path. Standing before her father once more, those rebellious eyes. Familiarity from her gaze, elation in her presence. No matter so, one not deserving the affection of his child. Actions of the past, pain of greatness upon her. Process of questionability, rationality behind them, accepting her stance.

"You devoured Ardin." He calmly speaks.

Shattering tips, wings shakily expanding. One yearning for the endless sky, wind of harshness. An abyss of loneliness, drowning in her sorrow. That voice unable in reaching, agony at her depths. Hatred consuming her, selfishness guiding her way. Desiring times so long ago, loathing the battlefield. Wishing in righting her wrong, trying to grasp everything. Those words meeting Valor, his vision towards his old friend. Shock expressing from him, wondering on her reason. Concerning it is, that devil once of his friend as well. Information within the shadows, those sentiments coming to light.

"That was an existence I never wanted, he violated me in my previous life. In all honesty, that was too light of a punishment." She brushes off her father, turning to her side.

"Violated...?" Valor thinking, his eyes trembling a bit.

Emotions inside of a lock, feelings breaking free. Yearning for times of yore, despair clawing away at the soul. A temple giving her a chance, that devil shouting her soul. Enlightenment with the ending, unwillingness in staying. An eternity of sorrow of a possibility, that young woman continuously pushing onward. Resisting what is reason, treading through the deepest of abyss. Confronting her father once more, illness in her voice. Revelation of the past, devastation towards her old friend. Wondering of what is eluding his vision, the true colors of Ardin. Anger coming over him, protectiveness of his companion. Unforgivable actions, desiring to put the demon in the ground himself.

"Violated...?" Argent questions in confusion, looking to Cyra.

Times of yore, one once filling with love for the worlds, hatred consuming her. Screaming out, none hearing her voice. Loneliness inside of the abyss, comfort within her child. Wishing for a life of betterment for her own, planning a way in her release. Desperation of the situation, wings desiring to soar. Wind of harshness, feathers once blanketing the earth. Yearning for freedom, opposing what is rationality. Power inside of a seal, those feelings breaking free. One within the presence of her father again, that child with her. A boy of curiosity, yet knowledge not for him at the time. Sickness of the topic, preferring in avoiding the subject.

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"I will explain when you are older." Cyra glancing to Argent, her expression slightly of sternness.

"Okay...?" he props his head in confusion.

Never leaving pain, agony at her depths. Death releasing her, a moment of blissfulness within its embracement. Returning below, trying to save her daughter. Equivalence of a failure, a thousand years of torture. Tears inside of the abyss, loneliness for years. That old friend diving to the depths, screaming out to her, grabbing hold of her hand. Those eyes of crimson upon her father, that Tyrant closing his vision, holding his hands behind his back. Understanding her pain, regretfulness of the past, blaming himself for her suffering. Time going by, the dire situation. Accepting her hatred towards him, opening his eyes, her glare piercing into his gaze.

"Do you now see why power is important?" he questions a bit distantly.

Weakness in times of yore, incapability of resisting another. Incomparable agony, power inside of a seal. A voice never leaving her, her skin continuously crawling. Unrest within her heart, desperation in gaining her freedom. Overpowering that demon, yet those feelings never leaving. An event of dreadfulness, companions parting underneath the light of the blood moon. That flowery field within her mind, those petals passing her line of sight. Frustration at her depths, fear gripping at her core. Morals, her resolve, those remaining intact. That father in awareness on his daughter, one embracing who she is, no matter of her despair.

"Yeah, I see reason to have power—" she places her hand upon her waist.

"—still, you are one horrible father, and I would not mind adding you to the menu right this instant." She coldly speaks.

Times of the past, one of firmament, the other walking the land. Those of differences uniting, bliss in the presence of the other. Emotions growing over the passing time, feelings inside of a lock. Separation of the two, dreadfulness following for years. One once filling with love for the worlds, hatred consuming her. A change of severity, that heart continuously opposing, trying to maintain itself. Her frustrations of rightness, that Tyrant looking away. Regret clawing away at him, wishing for the knowledge of those events earlier. An occurrence of preventability, his existence capable of doing so. Despite it all, that one no less a father, accepting whatever punishment is ahead.

"Are you finished? I doubt this is the time for petty squabbles, the only reason I am here is to give a bit of a warning." He looks towards her.

Dreams of distantness, two traveling the worlds. Emotions of deepness, feelings inside of a lock. Words unable in leaving, dreadfulness setting in. One patiently waiting, the other secluding within his shell. Frustration at the depths of the young woman, resigning to the nature of her companion. One of childishness, his heart of largeness. Terribleness in times of yore, loneliness in the deepest of abyss. Experiences never going away, that faintest light guiding her path. Years passing, standing before her father once more. A warning towards her, that demon of a questionable one. Those normally at the other's throat, information of importance. Allowing him the field, her vision of carefulness. Valor trying to process the events, wondering of his knowledge of the past, answers no doubt of requirement.

"And that is?" she questions, trying to hold in her anger.

Those of differing times, one of innocence, the other of malice. Both reflecting to the present, hatred at her depths. Emotions of simpleness, feelings lashing out. Terribleness in days of yore, blissfulness further back. Yearning in returning to her most pleasureful experiences, that faintest light guiding her way. Anger far within, unforgiving eyes upon the one ahead, desiring in fulfilling the wish of her mother. That Tyrant looking back to the floating crystal, witnessing it radiating an energy of purity. Eyes of distantness upon it, deeply thinking on actions of the past. Far within, knowing of the rapidly rising despair inside of him.

"This altar here...it was already activated..." He informs her.

Words most shocking, efforts possibly for naught. Positioning her arms in a thinking posture, slightly looking down. Tapping her foot against the ground, one conflict after another. An abyss of loneliness, tides of harshness. Dreams riding on the line, selfishness leading her path. Feelings of simpleness, yearning for times of yore. A heart in opposition to the gods, her own way in going forward. One continuously rising to the challenge, resisting what is reason. Powerlessness of the past, resolve pushing onward. Wings desiring to soar, a soul wishing for the endless sky.

"Activated? Did the gods get to it already?" she looks to her father.

Emotions in times of old, those of differing realms. One of highness, the other walking the land. Confrontation of a goddess, defeat of the result. Descending below, that entity reaching out, grabbing hold of his hand. Simplicity within experiences, feelings over the passing time. Trouble setting in, gods casting down judgment. Activation points in place, a way in resisting what is reason. That Tyrant looking in her direction, actions of pointlessness. His daughter of a mess, a risk of greatness. Both deities and himself, conflicting of his heart. Seeking a resolution, trying to distancehimself from her.

"No, it seems like this temple was activated years ago." He positions his arms in a thinking posture.

Two of differing times, one of innocence, the other of malice. Emotions of deepness, love once filling her, hatred consuming the young woman. Opposing what is rationality, shouting her soul. Painfulness of greatness, incomparable agony. Fear inside of the past, desiring in spreading her wings. Words within a lock, that guiding light towards her deepest desire. Thinking on the information for some time, littleness within its sensibility. Making her way further into this nightmare, answers of haziness. Possibly missing something of importance, drawing an idea of the solution.

"Then why all the fuss to stop us...? Unless it is a diversion for a much greater threat." Conflicting of her tone.

One born underneath the light of the crimson moon, a curse of an existence. Treading within the deepest of abyss, opposing the gods. Selfishness guiding her path, one seeking her happiest days once again. Blackness plaguing her soul, her heart trying to maintain its softness. Naturalness of the diversion, that Tyrant expecting no less from her. Limitation of information, intuitive she is. A trait of inheritance from him, an abomination of an existence, possessing the necessary skills in surviving within the NetherWorld. Pushing beyond, forcing against her enemies.

"That is exactly what it is. The gods intend to not only use Ultima Weapon to terminate all demons, but more specifically you." Alastor informing her.

"Wait, why her?" Valor stepping forward.

A weapon of nightmarish capabilities, desperation of the situation. One once of highness, falling into the depths. Torment forever at her soul, anger at her depths. Once filling with love for the worlds, hatred consuming her. Resisting the reason of others, forcing against their rationality. Embracing in the blissfulness of a dream, shouting her soul. Stepping out of it, facing reality. Encountering her father once more, news most unsettling. That Tyrant turning to the boy, his attention soon on Valor, shortly shifting his gaze to his daughter. Holding his hands behind his back, those eyes of his, Cyra bearing witness to this. Understanding the reason, a child of both a devil and a deity, one of an abomination.

"Why else? The gods are fearful of that power within her—" Alastor turning, looking to the crystal.

Potential inside of a lock, a halfbreed refusing in using it. Loathing the battlefield, her heart embracing the blissfulness of adventure. Opposing the logicality of others, releasing that power in brief instances. Loving the numerous realms, freedom stripping away from her. Despair engulfing her, selfishness guiding her path. Forcing onward, lashing out, hatred at her depths. An action of regretfulness, his daughter changing so much. Even so, trying to maintain that heart of softness. Distantly gazing at the crystal, that light continuously shining at him. Possibility in reflecting his despair of deepness, in awareness on never falling into its temptation.

"—I thought I could get her to draw out that power...perhaps then...never-mind." He shakes his head from left to right.

Challenging the game, rising to heights of highness. A devil seeking power of grandness, entering into the domain of a goddess. Defeat of his first, falling to the land below. Her hand of guidance reaching out, grabbing hold of his own. Eyes of differing realms meeting, emotions growing over the passing time. His world falling apart, despair consuming him. Yearning for more power, incapability of saving one of closeness. Importance of this, wishing for his daughter to survive. Her strength of her lifeline, desiring in protecting her against deities as well as himself. A goal so long ago, hoping in finally settling the harshness of the past. An event of dreadfulness eternally haunting him, his own powerlessness.

"What do you mean?" Cyra questions a bit more strictly.

Emotions of simpleness, seeking the nigh impossible. A heart desiring for one no longer of the living, years of torture. Agony of deepness, his own way in solving the issue. A child despising the battlefield, complications of the past. Times of distantness, hostility inside of a home. That daughter moving away, yet returning, unable in escaping his grasp. Her bloodline of necessity, a way in shielding her from the harshness of the worlds. Everything slipping out of his hands, that last gift of his wife no more. Even so, that young woman returning multiple times, forcing against the reason of others. Questions not of the time, that revival of a deity underway. Primal affairs, such of betterment on hold. Facing his child, his eyes resting upon her, her vision of seriousness.

"Never-mind that, but I am afraid you will fall to Ultima Weapon at your current standing." He uneasily responds.

A power of grandness, a weapon in direction towards her. Desperation of a move, deities yearning in ridding her. Strength above her old friend, unsettling sentiments inside of her. Sparring with Valor, scaling of accuracy not of a possibility. Wondering of her chance of victory, smallness within it all. Pushing onward no less, trying to grab hold of her deepest desire. Feelings of deepness, emotions guiding her way. Treading within the farthest of abyss, emerging even stronger than before. A challenge of highness, her unrelenting heart. Despair clawing away at her soul, that will in opposing continuously existing.

"Lose huh...—"