A realm of beginnings, that originally endless void. Worlds forming from it, filling it with heaviness. A path lighting towards tomorrow, numerous more existing inside of it. Further within Helheim, a battlefield on display.
The stench of blood high in the air, rocky terrains, screaming souls. The chilling breeze, piling bodies. Far in the conflict, two standing in opposition to one another. Valor and the Knight of Darkness, Envy.
Both clashing against the other, their great will. An icy mist spreading far, solidifying the area, trapping the knight in a prison of ice. Blackness crashing against it, melting away at the force. This endless cycle, freezing and defrosting. Their mighty powers, both staring down the other.
"Is that really all you can do, Valor? Or are you deliberately trying to die?" Envy's harsh voice.
Living in guilt, his never fading memories. His agonizing heart, remembering his companion's words. Two near souls, once venturing within the vastness together. Their deep feelings, words within a lock. A god diving far, reaching for her.
Words ringing through the deity, his trembling gaze. A true message, searching for a way to end himself. Following his friend's wish for a long time, breaking away everyday. Wanting to bring her home, many waiting for her. Despair consuming her, his inaction in the past playing into a terrible chain.
The creaking gate from afar, the steadily opening path. Shadows entering, hands forming. The deity glancing back, his uneasy vision. Shifting his gaze to his old friend, seeing her sad smile.
Reaching around her, tying the red ribbon to the back of her head. That devil slightly looking down, wrapping her arms around him. Soon pulling away, gazing at her demon sword. Moving up to him, holding his wrist, placing the hilt in his hand.
"With this, I entrust Lævateinn to you." Her soft voice.
Little energy with him, his teary vision. Shadowy hands circling around her, grabbing her. Two moving further away from the other, these painful sentiments. Their unlikely meeting, their encounter underneath a tree in the NetherWorld.
That crying sword, negativity emitting from it, shredding the darkness. Its hasty reformation, binding the blade. Their ventures for a long time, not caring for her strength.
A bond between them, a sword learning to ascend. Tackling their challenges, pleasant memories to it. Screaming out, pleading to Valor. The god steadily leaving the gate, his twitching eyes.
Mustering his remaining strength, his weak eyes to his companion ahead. Biting his lower lip, forcing onward, ripping away his confinement. Racing towards her, running down a dark path. Shadows pursuing him, nearing her. Those entities grabbing him, harshly pulling him away.
"Cyra!!!"
Never dying feelings within, wanting the nigh impossible. Days from the past, yearning for them. A smile originally bright, despair eventually consuming her. Her efforts towards her deepest desire, their goal one and the same.
Everything slipping away, his deep anguish. Hearts once free, endlessly soaring along. A horrible night coming, two companions separating. A great wrong on the deity, someone unable to right it. The slamming gate, these emotions staying in a lock.
An individual carrying the hopes and dreams of others, granting a final miracle. Giving up her deepest desire, those agonizing feelings. A deity diving to her, his encounter with a Tyrant. Proving himself to her mother and father, gaining their approval. Risking much, his willingness to join her in her slumber.
Defeat coming to him, the young woman's gratefulness to him. Their close hearts, removing him from the plane. Someone following her wish, watching over the gods. Unable to continue, his heart in bondage. Knowing her location, a solution not with him, his great frustration.
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"I can see your despair, you never forgave yourself for being unable to save someone. That woman who sealed herself away with Ultima. It's eating away at you, to the point where you wish for your suffering to end."
A deity watching from a distance, someone desiring for her return. Her messy memories, two meeting on the battlefield in the Tower of Time. Death claiming her, their sorrowful parting. That returning individual, someone rising to her challenges. Tremendous weight on her shoulders, her tormenting agony.
A demon refusing to remain quiet, shouting what is within. Eventually becoming the Bringer of Demise, this person performing her last miracle. Her dreadful sentiments to the god, her crushing sadness. Truth in the knight's words, the once supreme individual looking away. Their enemy's lightening pressure, his confusing gaze to Envy.
"I wish to fight the supreme god at his best. If you wish to see that person again, then free them! Some god you are, unable to even turn the wheel of your own fate." The Accursed stepping away, shortly turning from the deity.
"Yes...I really only feel alive when I can grasp the wheel of my own fate, shifting it in the direction I so desire." Cyra's pleasant voice.
Persisting in her path, grabbing the wheel of her own fate. Forcefully turning it, not allowing others to dictate her life. Admiring her, one opposing the gods. Racing in a lonely abyss, avoiding shadowy hands. Reaching for the faintest light, resisting the rationality of innumerable.
Challenging those above her, pressing onward as herself. An individual with a driving goal, seeking her deepest desire. Countless more existing, resisting her sorrows. Continuously fighting, despising the battlefield. Unable to endure any longer, forfeiting what is within, giving everyone a chance of a future.
"Challenge me again when your head is in the game. Right now, there is no point in taking your life. An opponent that is already defeated before a battle even begun, is no opponent at all." Envy walking away from the area.
Those stinging words, truth inside of them. One wandering a black path, staining his soul, wanting something himself. His long life, his never ending memories. Flames scarring his mind, meeting many over the passing time. Learning about the Bringer of Demise, her grant feats.
Hope within despair, someone turning the smallest chance into an actuality. Grasping this, believing in a direction himself. A Knight of Darkness, actions from his past leading to his route. Valor, a deity once powerful, enemies identifying his fading strength. His gaze below, frustration in his eyes.
If only...if only I was stronger...I could have prevented it...but yet...
An individual from the past, these many coming to her aid. Her close defeat, numerous joining together. Closing her vision, embracing these sentiments. Shortly opening her eyes, someone not stopping.
Rising to her challenge, directing her demon sword at Ultima. That concentrating negativity from her blade, a weapon stretching far. Its black scales coating the back of the scythe, its bleeding steel glimmering in the light.
A demon opposing her enemy, refusing to relent. These people with her, their belief in her, a link binding them together. Her flowing malice, this deep darkness.
Extending her offhand, malice tearing away at it. Her expanding arm, its massively morphing form. Arriving out of blackness, that shadowy claw of a dragon, its pulsing veins.
Scarring memories, continuously remembering. An enemy above herself, someone resisting the reason of others. Wandering in blackness, her deep loneliness. Her selfish path, yet giving hope to others. Seeking after her desire within, many more existing inside of her.
Her terrifying state, her sins manifesting into one. A demon constantly pushing onward, reaching for the tiniest chance. Worlds crumbling before the deity's eyes, thinking on his reason to live. Her message still with him, leaving everything in his hands. A god steadily breaking, these tormenting feelings.
"Just...how did you do it, Cyra...? How did you keep on going...? Even when the odds were greatly stacked against you...even when you've lost everything..."
Someone continuously falling, rising stronger than before. The realms approaching ruin, enemies joining together against a common foe. The End of Days on them, their hopes and dreams in her hands. A devil carrying their voices, bringing a final miracle.
An individual turning the smallest chance into an actuality, her freedom the price. A person unable to endure anymore, falling to her knees. Residing in a lonely abyss, numerous leaving her, their true colors to her. An old friend racing after her, diving to the depths.
These agonizing sentiments to the god, his shaking fists. A demon returning several times, trying to hold onto this hope. Withstanding the many passing years, doubt in him. His slowly degrading resolve, those blissful days so far away.
Am I truly fighting until someone can kill me...? It makes sense huh...maybe then I will atone for my failures...