Memories of yore, a point of connection. A mother driving out The All-Father, his opposition towards her. An assault of cruelness against one of youngness, an incurable illness. Sensibleness of it, reason for her mother's decision. Trading of equivalence, her existence tying in with the goddess. Trouble setting in, disarray of the worlds. Hearing those words, lowering her head. Frustration of deepness, her life falling into despair. A fool of oldness, one residing in the realm of the gods. Rage filling her, reason in pushing forward. Selfishness of her path, yet another purpose in going onward.

"Why...?" her sorrowful voice.

"Wish I can say really, but I do suspect it is because your mother opposed him. He may not have known about our marriage...but certainly he knew he could put us out of commission by targeting you..." Alastor looking towards her.

Realms of differences, a point of understanding. Those moving beyond trivialities, opening infinite possibilities. Happiness for a bit, sadness shortly setting in. One of highness targeting a child, everything falling apart. That one still of the living, bringing a weapon of grandness upon them. Shaking of the void, that beast loudly roaring. Never ending, his direction continuously grasping at something. Resistance against his reason, power no less of a purpose. Influence of vastness, grimness of the situation. That message, her shaking fists, anger filling her. Her path of blackness, knowing of the logicality. Wishing in returning to her days of most pleasure, her desire connecting to the past, nightmarish experiences existing in those times.

"You may be powerful, but admit it, you got lucky this time." He teases.

Terribleness of her life, enduring great pain. Continuously returning, rising to the challenges. Passing her trials, seeking her deepest desire. In awareness on her struggles, shakiness of herself. Dangling on the edge, facing actuality as herself. A body not of her own, opposing those of highness. Learning of their true enemy, another reason in pushing forward. Difficulty no less upon her, trying to lighten the mood. Holding her hands to her chest, protesting against her father. Agonizing of him, never able in admitting anything. Some things remaining the same, those residing in the blackest of abyss. A light shining a path, a way in leaving.

"You are unbelievable old man!" she frustratingly yells.

Pleasantness of those simpler moments, those earlier days. A child of smallness of competitiveness, her father of cleverness. Two of closeness, a trio embracing this blissfulness. One no longer there, a family breaking apart. Years down the line, finally understanding a message. That goddess never leaving, reflecting through their daughter. Warmness of the heart, that Tyrant enjoying this feeling. Laughter escaping him, that maiden realizing his action. One attempting in lifting her spirit, familiarity of his method. Enraging her, this leading her to joy. Laughing as well, those older times once again of an actuality.

"Forget about the old fool for now, right now we will all be dead if Ultima succeeds. I do apologize for my part in this, but...I assisted...hoping Ultima will also kill that bastard for what he did to you, and your mother..." Alastor looking away.

An enemy approaching, a weapon of the gods. None capable in standing against it, his hatred guiding his path. Allowing his daughter another test, meeting her resolve in battle. Infinite in potential she is, a chance of existence. Wishing in punishing a deity of the heavens, settling after so long. Gazing at her father, understanding his rationality. One not having the strength in standing against the gods for long, a higher power of his hope. Sacrificing everything for his one desire, his action no different from her own. Selfishness leading the way, shouting his soul.

"Right..." She slightly looks away.

"So that Valor, your new boyfriend or something?" he teases her once again.

Despising gods, disapproving in those times. Meeting that deity, strictness of the Tyrant. Loathing those of highness, concerning for the safety of his own. Allowing that one in her presence, stubbornness of his child. Wrongness of his path, that companion constantly trying his best for her. One once loving the realms, anger filling him. Loathing them, searching for answers over the years. Numerous time going by, finally able in seeking betterment of it. Her vision on her father, rebelling once more. Those earlier days, missing them so much. That Tyrant still capable in rattling her, wishing for differences of events.

"Hah! Perhaps in his dreams maybe..." She speaks a bit shyly.

"Heh."

Niceness of the feeling, embracing his role as a father once more. Time unable in rewinding, his obsession in finding solutions. Pushing away those of closeness, hatred of his heart. Suspicion for so long, gaining an answer at last. Frustration of deepness, his words to The All-Father. Failure of one plan, his daughter potentially a more greater threat. Everything within her palms once more, the wheel of fate turning. Missing days of valuableness, spending time together. The Day of Ruin approaching, a threat steadily making its way into their reality. Blissfulness of feelings, his eyes upon her. Tears to her vision, one of her desires of an actuality.

"Come on you big crybaby, I didn't raise a wimp now did I?" he smiles at her.

Strictness of his methods, raising her in harshness. A realm of lawlessness, toughness of it. Constantly trying to maintain herself, letting it out in the presence of her father. His understanding of the situation, hardness of it. Those able in staying on similar grounds, embracing in these pleasantries. Nodding her head from left to right, agreeing with him. Wiping the tears from her face, smiling at him. Gazing down at her father, that Tyrant raising someone capable of enduring the harshest of obstacles. Worlds of cruelness, resistance of necessity.

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"Cyra...there is one way you can defeat Ultima Weapon." Alastor states more seriously.

"Huh...?"

Greatness of a Tyrant, once having a solution. Power not within his glory days, yet resolve of fearsomeness. A mistake of grandness, yet a way to bring down the nigh impossible. A chance existing inside of his daughter, abysmally low it is. Struggling with the possibilities, scenarios not playing out in her favor. Holding onto the smallest of hope, this moment of valuableness. A solution not in her favor, but a fighting chance no less. Those residing in the deepest of abyss, a path of light. That Tyrant gazing ahead, his eyes on the exit. One of closeness residing there, her smiling of brightness, her hand of guidance.

"You have the ability to devour, assimilating another's power into yourself."

Sinking into the depths, drowning in her sorrow. Pushing onward in her path, steadily becoming the Bringer of Demise. Despair of grandness, the Day of Ruin approaching. Her fault of it, her existence of the linking point. Resisting the reason of others, shouting her soul. Confronting her father at the depths, a path lighting his way in leaving. Devastation of his words, her eyes ahead. Resting on the exit, one of familiarity there. A promise in keeping, his suggestion for a solution. Years upon years of wishing for that one of yore, giving up. Returning after so long, those finally connecting.

"Y—you can't be thinking to...!" her trembling voice.

Everything slipping out of her hands, grimness of the conflict. Shaking of the void, that beast nearing actuality. Time of shortness, considering her possibilities. Stubbornness of her father, her deepest desire on the line. Selfishness of her path, yet her heart of softness. Horribleness of her father, incapability of going so far. Pressure of immensity, success within her hands. Smallness of the chances, one capable of standing against the deities. Infinite potential residing within, one born underneath the light of the crimson moon. Wrongs of the past, a way in righting them.

"I have done much wrong in my life...if there is anything I can do to make up for it. It will be to save the life of the daughter...whose mother gave her very life to save once before..."

A goddess far above the gods, residing in a realm of peacefulness. Watching over those below, reason in her direction. A devil of lowness ascending, reaching for heights far above his standing. Meeting her in her throne, a battle between two. Defeat coming to him, her hand of guidance stopping his descent. Everything starting there, closeness over the passing time. His life slipping out of his hands, that deity giving her life, saving their daughter. That father wishing in doing the same, horribleness of the threat. Hearing his voice, her heart screaming out. One returning to that father of admiration, that devil of the past. Loving that Tyrant once more, terribleness of his solution. Tears filling her eyes, that maiden lowering her head. Drops falling, hitting the ground below.

"Come on now, we had a lot of good times, maybe..." He jokes.

The heavy situation, her aching within. One continuously returning, hatred at her depths. That heart of softness remaining, reflecting one from yore. Coming so close, powerlessness of her. Weakness of the past, unable in doing anything. A threat of massiveness approaching, her unsettling mind. Raising her head a bit, gazing at her father. That Tyrant attempting in making her smile, a war upon them. Times of turmoil, those residing as a doorway towards the future. Weight of enormousness, a point of breaking. Blood staining her hands, even her own. Madness never ceasing, her heart crying out.

"Heh...I am certain you and Valor would have gotten along great..." Her painful eyes on her father.

"Haha, I'll take your word for it..."

Actions of the past, wishing for differences. Lateness in it, his way in giving a fighting chance to his daughter. Terribleness of it, another trial at hand. Unwillingness of it, necessity in moving forward. Conflicting emotions, her right arm intensely radiating malevolence. Blackness tearing away at it, tears in her vision. That arm expanding, transforming into a massive shadowy claw of a dragon. Extending it high, looking down at her father. His eyes on her, approval of his smile. Hesitantly lowering her claw, uncertainty of her action. That path of darkness, holding onto the faintest of hope. Clashing with the Tyrant, two able in connecting once more. That one residing at the end of the abyss, her hand slightly moving. Alastor gazing in the direction, his attention returning to his daughter. Grabbing hold of his head, tightly clawing down into him.

"I take no regret in this...you have been a horrible father...but still...if only...!" her heavy heart, lowering her head.

"I am fine with this...I am sorry, Cyra...perhaps in another life we can make things right..."

Agelessness of the moon, that crimson light constantly in existence. Its shining presence within the abyss, signaling of her presence. Returning upon her awakening, grimness of an approaching conflict. A threat of massiveness, that one seeking what is within. Selfishness of her path, painfulness of her decisions. Words from her father, incapability in fixing the past. Yearning for those times, her grieving eyes. That widening of it, wondering of an alternative. That Day of Ruin approaching, options running out. Tightening her grip, tears streaming down. Screaming out in agony, incomparable pain.

"HHAAAAAHHH!!!"

Searching for answers throughout the years, sinking deeper into despair. Unable in understanding his late wife for so long, sensibleness of her message. Their daughter constantly growing, portraying that one of dearness. Reflecting her ideals, that goddess constantly there, residing through their child. Lævateinn bearing witness to this, that weapon crying out. Shockwaves emitting, that maiden hearing its plea. Apologizing at her depths, stardust steadily leaving the body of the Tyrant. A moment between them, seeing that father again. Multiple holding responsibility, none truly right nor wrong. Penalties of war, cruelness of it.

I am proud of you...Cyra.

Energy of crimson formulating from his body, that abyss of loneliness. Her vision on the ending of the path, that woman residing there. Sorrowfulness of her vision, turning away. That fading light, Cyra bearing witness to this. Standing from the ground, that energy within her claw. Her offhand in the direction, calling out to the entity. Stepping forward, everything of blackness around her. That void of endlessness, gazing down at the energy. Tears inside of her eyes, Lævateinn remaining silent. Holding that force to her chest, his soul floating in. Assimilating him into her body, frustratingly biting her lower lip.

"Can I...truly live with this...?"

Disappointment no less from another, her father trying to righthis wrong. Her family once again in shambles, her own doing of it. That shaking of the void, her vision resting above. Screeching of loudness, that threat of grandness approaching. This dreadful situation, painfulness in devouring her father. Indescribableness of it, her screaming heart. Grieving within, those coming to an understanding. Meeting on grounds of similarity, an ending of misfortune. Darkness around every corner, wondering of another path. Frustration of deepness, selfishness leading her.

Mother...I...there is no apology that can make this right. Those earlier days with you and father, I long for them. Ultima is approaching, and yet...this is not me. Selfish I am...I know. Still, perhaps things can be different...