A heart endlessly soaring in the past, once filling with love, hatred consuming her. Her deep selfishness, her enormous pain. Embracing what is within, refusing to remain quiet. Shouting her soul, shaking the heavens. Reaching for her deepest desire, nearing her goal.

Her massive capabilities, those in awareness of it. Unable to quell her, deciding to wake a weapon. Eventually coming together, a great weight on her shoulders. Performing a miracle, her sickening feeling. Those flowing sentiments, forever branding it on the worlds.

Earlier this day, the vast blue sky. That terrible camp, one searching for her freedom. Lying underneath a tree on the far side, the maiden distantly gazing above. Watching the slowly moving clouds, a blurry image of a person to her mind. This familiar individual, focusing on the memory, unable to clarify it.

"Those having little training, my memories in this mess. What am I to do...?" unease within her.

A prisoner to deities, wanting to know about her past. Seeking her freedom, angels having no experience, this massive burden on her shoulders. Her never ending sorrow, treading in a lonely abyss, light no longer there.

Wandering in its blackness, searching for answers. Martha approaching, wondering on the maiden. Someone distant from the others, wishing to learn more about her. Not noticing the person, the young woman's drifting mind, trying to connect a path.

"Hey! You okay—?!" that angel popping up from behind.

"—Martha?" Cyra looking to her a bit in surprise.

Gathering information on the gods, searching for a way to escape. Observing her surroundings, keeping her distance from others. This lively one coming to her, their bright personality. Walking to the young woman's side, gazing down at her commander. Her hands behind her back, leaning over a bit. The maiden sitting up, her attention on the person.

"You seem a bit down." Martha worryingly looking at her.

Fragments in her, holding onto them. These guiding sentiments, yearning to unravel them. Those frustrating emotions, a heart continuously resisting, reaching for the endless sky. Refusing the gods, steadily putting together a plan.

Her shaky team, a difficult situation. Her feverishly burning resolve, these feelings leading her onward. Slightly looking away, Martha confusingly tilting her head at her commander. Disgust from the maiden, the angel wondering on it.

"It's just...when I look at Ares, I feel disgust. I am not sure why." Cyra glancing to her.

Visualizing him, her boiling anger. Grasping these pieces within her, holding onto them. Deities needing weapons of war, her action against a god. One not punishing her, his message to her. A slipping individual, noting certain things. Martha positioning her arms in a thinking posture, assessing the situation. Animosity with a purpose, this connection to a deity.

"Hmm...could be that you knew him before losing your memories." The angel pressing her index finger to her chin.

Her sensible words, the young woman concluding the same. A past eluding her, one still remaining. Thinking on the individual, their blurry image. These lingering emotions, reaching after them. Her mind on Ares, questions plaguing her.

This entity from old, one treading in darkness. Her lonely path, her guiding feelings, a heart continuously opposing. Gazing into the vast sky, closing her vision, tracking these pieces. Shortly opening her eyes, settling herself for now.

"Could be...well then—" the devil standing from the ground.

"—we will not get anywhere at this rate. For now, let us go enjoy ourselves a bit." Cyra calmly turning to Martha.

"Alright! Come on then! Everyone is waiting in the dining hall!" excitement from the angel.

An excitable one, this innocent person in the madness. Grabbing her commander's hand, her bright smile. Their little time, pulling young woman along. Their sisterly bond, this uncertain feeling within her. Her hazy path, strangeness around her.

Seeking what is inside, her selfish direction. Her continuously extending feelings, resisting the reason of others. Clashing against harsh tides, racing in a black abyss. A few with her in this torment, her calm heart. Wanting to spread her wings, yearning to bring the rest along.

"You are way too casual about this." Cyra faintly smiling, following along.

Familiar emotions boiling at her depths, yearning to break her shackles. Refusing to relent, running down her path. Meeting some angels, bonding with these few. A family to her, their close relationship. Wanting to protect them, these pleasant individuals to her heart, desiring to give them freedom away from this nightmare. An entity from the land, one born underneath the light of the crimson moon.

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Constantly opposing, feverishly pushing onward. Within the palace of the gods, the throne room lining with statues of the deities. The open windows, a red carpet stretching to the All-Father's seat. Those listening to Ares report, the young woman quickly adapting, an unnerving situation. Requiring her strength, unable to take action against her.

"She gave me quite a nasty hit...you were right, her battle senses are still there." Ares uncertainty scowling.

One from the land, someone consuming in blackness. Images forever branding, murals depicting a monstrosity. Continuously forcing onward, another following. Words eternally engraving in Odin, his lingering unease. Positioning his arms, deeply thinking.

A halfbreed constantly ascending, rising to her challenges. Resisting her pain, enduring her sorrows. Refusing to relent, shaking those high above. Completing her last trial upon her sealing, her great potential. An entity becoming corruption itself, her guiding sentiments.

"As expected." Odin slightly looking away.

Coming from two from different worlds, her infinite potential. Displaying her abilities, her feverish resolve. Angels failing to execute her in the NetherWorld, her unrelenting path. Proceeding forward, unraveling the mysteries from her past. Death claiming her, awakening to a deep power.

Surpassing her tests, drawing more attention to herself. Her selfish direction, forcing onward. Refusing to remain in silence, defeating grand foes. Her memories not with her, her experiences remaining. An enormous weight on Freya, the goddess playing her role for now. Her goal in mind, wanting to give back to that one.

"How do you intend to keep her away from Valor?" Freya glancing to the All-Father.

A powerful bond between two, their close relationship. A deity forever following one from the land, that goddess witnessing his devotion. His time away from the heavens, spending it with another. Odin thinking on their link, a duo almost impenetrable together. His risky gamble, needing an edge in the war. That young woman from the past, her extraordinary abilities.

"They will both be deployed to different locations, and when the job is done, she will be sent back to her resting place." Odin tapping the side of his seat.

A devil giving up her freedom, sealing away with a beast. Those sentiments from her, envying others, her ill emotions. Hatred boiling at her depths, these sickening feelings. Accepting it, her solution in the end, activating the reaction points.

Bringing defeat to her foe, her parting words to her old friend. Her selfish request to him, that person racing after her. Failing to bring her home, searching for an answer. Years going by, following through on her wish. Deities not caring, these entities proceeding down their path.

"A bit cruel, but we haven't any other choice." Chronos shrugging.

One bringing demise in the wake of her despair, her guiding desires. A demon driving the worlds to the brink of ruin, carrying the hopes and dreams of others on her shoulders. These frustrating sentiments, giving onto them a miracle.

Someone turning the smallest chance into an actuality, an entity constantly finding a way forward. Those pulling her from her slumber, fragments remaining within her. Freya knowing her direction, keeping quiet, disapproving of this action. That All-Father destroying a family, a child growing into their enemy. Everything linking to him, her hasty heart.

"You never change, still you do not stop. Unlike yourself, I have a debt to repay." Freya looking away, her unsettling eyes.

Hearts parallel to one another, witnessing her true colors. That person unleashing what is inside, tackling challenges above herself. Doubting her chances against a weapon, refusing to relent. Taking on an enormous weight, hope filling numerous.

Unable to surpass her enemy, her solution towards achieving victory. A goddess never forgetting, learning much. The demon's eternal image, her feelings over the passing time. From the camp, two entering into the dining hall. The loud environment, tables lining around, the messy floor. Lingering stench of food, angels enjoying their time with each other.

"Yo! Maria! Come on! Let's make a bet! Who do ya think can drink more? Me or Kain?" Rick waving at her.

These lively people, a family to her. Warmth in this miserable place, their high spirits. Seeking a way to her freedom, wanting to bring them along. Her unending resolve, this fire burning within her.

Fragments inside of her, needing to make sense of them. Her attention across the room, the sighing devil. Shaking her head in disbelief, moving towards Rick and the others. Shortly before them, her slightly serious expression on them. Caring for them, her role to play.

"You should not be drinking right before a mission." Folding her arms.

"Oh come on commander! Let's just have some fun!" dismay from Kain.

Lives in her hands, her firm stance. These pure hearts, appreciating their presence. Innocence in this terrible situation, their simple behavior. Deities binding them in chains, not taking any chances, requiring them at full capacity.

Not wanting to fail them, this weight on her shoulders. Mapping out possibilities, her hazy memories. Yearning for the vast sky, enemies shackling her to the land. Needing an edge, an answer residing in her past.

"This is an order, there will be no consumption of alcohol. If you return alive, then by all means, drink until you pass out." Her hand on her waist.

Roaming through blackness, her mysterious past. Yearning to unravel it, this sinister feeling inside of her. Keeping sentiments to herself, rage at her depths. An entity from old, someone surpassing her trials. Shaking those above, branding her soul into them.

Years going by, awakening from her slumber. Her memories in a seal, deities needing her participation. Those sighing men, their heads on the table in disappointment, conceding to her order. This pleasant experience to her, the young woman unable to identify it.

"You lot seem to remind me of someone." Cyra faintly smiling, turning from them, her hand on her chest.

"Huh? Who?" Rick looking to her with interest.

Her lingering fragments, these old feelings, warmth in them. Wanting to connect the pieces, these childish people. Pure souls in this place, their bright personalities. Her dreadful gaze, unable to remember. Roaming through darkness, her path without light.

Shadowy hands trailing along, the maiden searching for a faint glow. Stopping, her attention on her dark surroundings. Shifting her vision onward, a blurry person ahead, their hand in her direction. Stepping forward, reaching for them. That fading individual, her sad eyes. Friends awaiting her answer, slightly lowering her head.

"I do not know, but it is a rather nice feeling..." Gripping her upper arm.