Глава 13

Is this my will?

On the vast battlefield, I stand alone.

Innumerable corpses.

The Black Crown hovers above her head.

'I see you, black crown on your head, melting millions of lives, into nothing but memories.'

'I see the, King of Sarkaz, enslaving all peoples, everywhere.'

You will regret.

You will fall in regret, just like me.

The final destination... is still here.

When death approaches, you will realize, that all prophecies, are inevitable.

I... am the most horrific disaster to afflict our world.

I am the most horrific disaster to afflict our world.

I step forward, towards Amiya, towards myself.

Towards fate itself.

Then...

Black Arts weave into a sword, stabbing the Amiya in front of me.

Stabbing myself through the chest.

Then, I will kill you.

Even if, you are me, you are the 'Lord of Fiends'.

I once... made the same choice as you.

I thought that I was strong enough, powerful enough to unbind myself from fate's shackles.

You can't do it.

Amiya... you can't do it.

Really.

Maybe.

You may have tried once, you may have faced all sorts of bitterness and still fallen into the same abyss in the end.

But I haven't.

I have not walked on your so-called 'fated path'.

I will challenge you.

I will challenge you, in my, the King of Sarkaz's name, 'Amiya'.

If the end of it all was set in stone long ago by those prophecies you espouse, if the meaning of our lives are just to prove your inevitable conclusion...

Then why do we live?

Why do we exist?

The Patriot's lifelong struggle, Dr. Kal'tsit's assiduous choices, Dr. {@nickname} holding my hand and affirming our path—

All this just to become a footnote in fate's manuscript?

I refuse to accept it.

Amiya, this will only beget pain.

It will be, an endless torture.

Myriad souls of Kazdel, I ask you. Did Theresa break out of her own fate?

Even Theresis, did he face you head on?

Theresa... She handed over this crown to me, for this.

She didn't believe in the predestined tragic future that you paint.

So she is suffering now... Listening to our voices with nary a rest!

If only to relieve her burden, 'King of Sarkaz', you must—

No.

Theresa doesn't need any rescue.

The 'King of Sarkaz' will no longer be a symbol of conquest and revenge.

Maybe... that's why I must be the one.

How arrogant, how conceited—

No, it is only because I have worn this black crown, that I brandish my sword at you.

You cannot escape fate's choice. The further you run from it, the faster it will come—

I won't run.

I'll wait here for it. 'Fate'.

When your plans have dissipated, when your taunts fall short.

I'll show you all—

We... The peoples of this great land, can choose an ending for ourselves.

I find the strength in my body.

They call this power the <i>King of Sarkaz.</i>

But I know, it was never about the King. This power was never meant for conquest, for subjugation.

Its true objective is—

'Survival'.

The battlefield abruptly shatters.

I hear a distant sigh.

It carries no anger, no fear, no sorrow.

Just a sigh.

Was this a reply from the myriad souls, or... just myself sleep-talking as I awake from a nightmare?

Mm—

Amiya, you're awake!

A familiar voice beckons. I feel those lingering emotions dissipate.

Do you feel alright? Any pain?

You got hit by Confessarius witchcraft. Did you have a nightmare?

The Doctor's voice always calms me down.

I'm fine now.

I lift my hand, the black Arts sparking out as usual.

...The 'King of Sarkaz'.

Doctor, this power is not a curse. It's not forbidden witchcraft that brings disaster.

Theresa passed it to me, so that... we can use it to find our own path.

I trust you.

The Doctor holds my hands tightly.

You're up, Amiya.

I'm sorry.

It's fine... Logos.

Whether or not I was caught by Confessarius witchcraft, I would have had to face this... self-reflection eventually.

In my dream, those voices proclaimed the prophecy again.

Prophecy?

Yes... The prophecy The Patriot spoke of before he died.

No matter what voices they were, it's all a trick of the Confessarii.

Don't worry about it.

No.

Was that a method of Confessarius torture, or are the myriad souls still deeply connected to my heart?

Or maybe I... still hold on to that scary prophecy deep down inside.

It's not important, though. I already rejected their offer.

Again.

...Good.

I still want you to get a full checkup from Dr. Kal'tsit, though. Your rings...

I do.

Um, Logos, where are we though...?

The sound of footsteps approaches, it's... some Sarkaz mercenaries? They're moving a crystal shard the color of blood onto a truck not far away.

I recognize the girl leading them, Paprika. The Doctor said she freed the workers in Highbury.

Logos requisitioned the use of this Sarkaz transport squad's vehicle. In the name of the Lord of the Banshees.