Part 2 –

 

A chaotic dance of black and blue swallowed the entirety of the chamber. Phase moved like lightning, baring her dual swords as she dragged it against the squirming flesh that layered the floors.

Flesh liquified to a black substance at the mere touch of her blades as they cracked like stone. Black tendrils flailed at her as a pair gave pursuit, ripping through what was left of the columns. Her speed was uncanny, but so were the tendrils. Their eager tips were at the tail end of her spine as she flew close to the ground, dodging incoming tendrils that sprouted from seemingly out of thin air.

Phase clenched her teeth, her eyes locked onto Desire who sat elegantly atop the Well of Wishes. The Overlord watched with a manner of patience, her eyes only moving to where she expected Phase to move seconds into the future. The entire chasm was her chess board, and if Phase was an enemy pawn – then Desire was the player.

This was the difference in their strength.

Ethereal blades swarmed around the chamber and struck down any stray tendril that dared to attack her. When each blade shattered another quickly took its place. The blue orbs never ceased forming around her as she scoured for an opportunity to embed an entire country’s worth of arsenal into the living flesh.

But Desire was equally as unrelenting in her pursuit.

“Patience is a virtue, is it not Phase? Your mother used to be an understanding woman before she lost her mind.”

Phase could only respond by baring her teeth, just as waves of meter-wide tendrils appeared like the branches of a grand tree. Because of their dark, unreflective appearance – evading them became all the more difficult. She weaved in between them with twist and turns sudden enough to instantly shatter every bone of a living being to dust.

But Desire did not allow her to breath. An insect that failed to sit still within the web of a spider was only destined to further entangle themselves. She followed the only clear path through the entangled tendrils, summoning more weapons to her aid.

Black branches sprawled uncontrollably as they closed in from every direction. Speed meant nothing now. She dodged the first few lunges, barely twisting her body to avoid contact. Each flung weapon hacked at the tendrils, skewering them into the walls permanently. At the same time a massive, summoned blade cut one into quarters lengthwise, each flailing quarter just barely passing either side of her shoulders and hips.

But with each one that fell another two took its place. It was like fighting against a nightmare version of Hydra.

Desire’s pieces moved and began to weave an intricate web of tendrils. Noticing her impending predicament, Phase summoned an array of orbs which quickly morphed into blades, right as she threw her swords far behind her at the pursuing tendrils.

To her shock and disbelief – her swords seemingly phased through as if the tendrils were no more than a figment of her deteriorating mind. Their construct left her utterly baffled, scrambling her mind as the other flying weapons all suddenly missed their mark.

“They’re not physical!?”

This whole time while her summoned weapons were clashing, tearing, and ripping through the black tendrils like a swarm of locusts, she had been led to believe that they were completely tangible.

The realization of her predicament closed as fast the tendrils. She had wilfully woven herself into Desire’s trap.

Only now did Phase realize that this was likely the work of [Illusion] magic. But to what degree? To be fooled by an illusion the magic needed to exceed that of at least the [Twelfth Tier].

But she knew it couldn’t possibly be of the [Twelfth Tier]. Desire was an Overlord. She was a being that rivalled the imprisoned Gods in every regard and was only second to the Maidens. Where the Maidens were responsible for magic that dictated the fundamentals of existence itself, the Overlords embodied the very essence of existing.

All sapient life required desires; an entrenched drive to give them purpose. A reason to behave in manners they perceive as fit. Sentient life was much the same but to a lesser degree.

It was almost hilarious that Desire was defending a race – no, a disease that could barely think for themselves. But perhaps the simplicity of the Undead’s desire to only devour was what made them so disturbingly compatible.

It went without saying that this was undoubtably magic of the [Fourteenth Tier] – a tier of magic that rightfully belonged only to the 12 Overlords of Corozin.

Desire only smiled at Phase’s revelation.

“[False Disillusion – Aggression]. Your desire to struggle has only led to you fight yourself. Not me.”

As the weapons of light fell and disintegrated into thousands of photons, the Undead released a guttural sound of satisfaction. They adored her delectable mana, wishing they could syphon it straight from the source but refrained from pursuing their dire instincts. They had greater purposes to accomplish.

Phase silently cursed with enough vitriol to poison the air. The insignificant insects which saw her as prey riled her blood more than the smile she so dearly wished to erase from Desire’s face.

“Desires are a manifestation of the mind. The soul. The heart. Whether through delusion, illusion or, with the right conditions – through reality.”

Desire snapped her fingers, and before Phase had realized it, a tendril easily tens of times her size swallowed her vision. All she could do in that split second was stare in shock as a single thought echoed endlessly in her mind.

W-what? Where did that come from –!?

She tragically crashed into its course of attack with no means of salvation. Even if time were to seemingly freeze there would not a way to escape her fate. A part of her instinctively assumed it was an illusion just like the other tendrils – but this was the true trap that Desire woven unbeknownst to her.

Her speed combined with the swing of the tendril caused her to fling across the entire chamber. An ear-shattering crack of air resulted shortly after as the air exploded with a subsonic blast.

Her body was dragged through the walls like a ragdoll, scarring many meters of rock. A crater-like impact was left when she finally smashed into the furthest end, her body trapped within layers of ancient stone. A scream of combined pain and mental anguish suddenly consumed her.

The [Mark of Desire] was smeared across her flesh and sept deep into her soul. Memories of a longed past resurged, pried out of the depths of her heart and brought to flail helplessly in the light. Her mother smiled in each fleeting memory. She saw this all through the eyes of the old, innocent Phase who knew nothing of the world… or the pain that resided behind that motherly smile.

Not a word could leave her gaped mouth thereafter. The agony forced her consciousness to revolve in and out, the pain equally keeping her awake as much as it thrust her into darkness. Through fluttered vision she saw Desire’s figure move towards her. A pair of outstretched hands gently caressed her cheek and brought it to face her directly.

She spoke, but her words could not be heard. But with what little energy she was able to muster, whether by miracle or through sheer will – she read Desire’s lips before all faded to black.

No… how could she? Her vision was like seeing in distorted mosaics. It was impossible to read her lips.

Yet she did.

… Her wish…

Those two words joined her in Desire’s embrace of darkness.

And then – there was light.

* * *

A child awoke somewhere along a grassy plane. A groggy look overcame her as she shivered to the coldness of the night; her eyes only just barely open to see the unending field of light blue, black, and the endless stars above.

“Agh… where… am I?” The child, who was unmistakably Phase, questioned.

Roused, she pushed herself upright and scoured beyond the horizon. Light blue grass and nothing more swallowed her vision. An overwhelming sense of nostalgia sept through her thin clothing as she tried to remember what this place was.

The grass was of unnatural colour to the standards of Eastern Six Point. It felt softer. Fluffy even. She gently sifted it through her soft hands and smelt the familiar fragrance of flowers, only there was no meadow to be found.

“… I don’t remember this at all. This is a memory. I’m sure of it. But where? How long ago was this… and why am I here?”

Confusion settled in. Desire was supposed to reveal her deepest desires, so she was left feeling somewhat bewildered that she was only shown a distant memory. If the [Mark of Desire] was as insidious as the [Curse of Desire], then why was she not shown her mother instead?

This wasn’t what she desired. An azure, grassy plane of a land she had long forgotten was the last thing on her mind. Yet she couldn’t help but to imagine that there was more to this all…

… and she curled up and looked to the stars with moist eyes. The pain only minutes ago was something like a bad dream. If it were up to her, she would rather live inside of this memory than to go back. At least here she’d be certain that her mother was alive somewhere out there.

Nothing in this world mattered more than that. This is what she believed in with all her stubborn self. When she looked to the stars all she saw were potential Star Children waiting to fall – not some distant thing that needed to be sought or reached.

She never understood why humans wished to touch them. Aspirations were fought for, not cherrypicked from the skies. Only a race as foolish as themselves would chase such futile dreams…

Yet she sympathised with them. It was hope above all else. Seeing so many stars reminded her of the many thousands of years she remained alone in her dark prison. But she didn’t care for that. Not the stars, or where she sat.

She just didn’t want to be alone anymore.

She knew this was the root of her suffering. The loss of her mother meant that the world had already died in her eyes. Phase was unmistakeably a feared Spirit of the past, forged in anger with a thirst for vengeance against the one who had killed her mother.

But all it did was bring pain and suffering. To her and everyone else. It hurt her knowing that she had only recently opened her eyes to this reality… and the realisation that Zeluru was never the antagonist of her world.

It was in fact herself.

Until now she couldn’t believe Uru had offered to forgive her… despite everything she had done. Ever since then her true desire rose out of her heart and came forth into the world for all to see.

She just wanted to be with her mother again.

Why did she remember all this now? To feel so sentimental in a false world? She didn’t know. All she knew was that she was here because Desire wanted it. For what purpose remained a mystery as she simply stared up into the moonless sky, wondering where this place was.

An aimless sky… It differed almost entirely from Eastern Six Point. Little by little she began to unravel the location of this place. The colour of the grass returned to her, and she quickly peered down through her knees.

She plucked a small bunch of and watched them drip with a red fluid. The scent of beautiful flora became muddied by the smell of bitter iron. The grass was not as it appeared. Beneath its beautiful coat of blue was a disturbing flesh-eating colony of plant-like creatures.

There was no need to fear what lurked beneath. The grass was a friend; an ally to those acquainted with the Child of Hope.

“Razor grass!” She abruptly exclaimed. “This – this is the Hallowed Gardens! Wait… why am I here then!? This was… so, so long ago…” Phase slumped backwards and eventually fell flat against the grass.

This memory took place only a few years after her birth. If she were still considered a child now, she was but an amoeba back then. Hardly intelligent… but a child nonetheless… a genuine child, unlike her current self.

She laid there and slowly shut her eyes. The sound of the dancing grass and soft air surrounded her in this strange, strange land of Western Six Point. Minutes soon elapsed, and for a moment she believed she had somehow gone back in time.

Maybe if she opened her eyes now, she’d truly be placed back in a time when things were… not so lonely.

“Oh dear. Are you tired? Now now, come. Let’s rest here.”

A motherly voice cooed. She shot up near instinctively, expecting to see the eyes of her mother staring down at her but all she saw were the stars.

“… was I hearing things?” She asked herself, wondering where the voice came from. The grasslands were no longer barren. A plethora of strange creatures roamed mysteriously in herds.

No matter where she looked, she could only see these things and not the face she so dearly wished to see again. Facipods could be seen shovelling dirt in the distance, creating nests that were never destined to see an offspring.

From long-necked monstrosities with underbellies containing many meter-long mouths to eye-like butterflies that flapped with the skin of their eyelids – these were but only one thing.

The Soulless.

They were the constructs of Despair, much like how the Blossomed – such as the Razor Grass – were the agents of Hope. Where the Undead were like living nightmares, the Soulless were better described as fever dreams. They were hollowed constructs, crafted and tempered only by their souls.

In a way they did not possess one, for they were their souls in a complete sense. The way one appeared, behaved, and existed was dictated by the soul alone. And sometimes – by multiple souls given the right conditions.

For example, the Facipod were created by the soul of a caterpillar or similar creature which had failed to complete a metamorphous cycle. Their masks are but a reflection of their yearning to become something beautiful. A façade to wilfully ignore their grotesque bodies.

They were living souls. The purest form of existence. Destined to live for as long as their soul contained mana. She wondered if they still roamed these fields to this day, unchanged despite the ebbs and flow of time.

But she could not care less about the Soulless. Her head wagged left and right as she searched for the source of the voice just prior.

Nothing. No matter where she looked all she saw was the same scenery. When all hope seemed lost another voice suddenly spoke.

“… I don’t wanna. The grass ate a bunny. I don’t wanna get eaten too.”

The voice was hers. She froze momentarily, wondering if it was just all in her head until faint scrunches of grass pulled her towards its direction.

And there – her face suddenly lit up with countless emotions. There, just in the distance she saw her mother. A figure clad robes so white that she could easily be mistaken as a ghost. But beneath the moonless, starlit skies she appeared like an incarnation of the moon itself, blessing the Hallowed Gardens with an aura that seemingly calmed the Soulless.

Her face was as beautiful as she remembered. It sparked an unending burst of child-like glee in her heart, overflowing as the tears that rolled off her cheeks. Her light-blue hair easily matched the colours of the grass, much more than hers…

And the child that followed her hand in hand.

That was her. The Phase of the past. A child that knew so little of the world but wore such eager eyes to absorb it. They were identical. From the robes that elegantly fell to their ankles to the ends of their fingertips. But Phase could not see it this way.

The young Phase possessed such curious eyes with a palate for discovery – as if she could see the world in more than just colours and light.

“C-can you hear me? Mom? MOM! Hello! Can you hear me!?” Phase began to call out, waving her arms as the rushed towards the pair.

But they didn’t notice her. Even the Soulless paid no heed.

“I’m here… I’m here! Please mom! I know you can hear me! Please just turn around! Please just look at me… please!” Still her efforts were in vain. Nothing she did seemed to rouse their attention. Nothing happened when she tried to cast magic. No matter how fast she ran they never came any closer.

“MOM! PLEASE CAN YOU HEAR ME!?” She cried out at the top of her lungs in in desperation. “MOM! MOM! MOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOM!”

Phase’s sprint slowly came to an end. She froze in the middle of the blue plains, staring idly at her mother and past self with swollen eyes. Slowly, they deflated as futility settled into her heart, and with it, she was reminded of the nature of this world.

It was just a memory. An episode of the past laid uncorrupted for her to watch, and only watch. She was stunned. The realisation cut well into her soul. For a moment she truly thought she had an opportunity to at least… be beside her again.

“… Mom…” She slumped onto her knees and fell into a silent sob. Her tears collapsed onto the palms of her tiny hands and listened to her mother’s voice.

“It’s fine dear. See? They’re friends. They won’t hurt us.”

“But that bunny was my friend… why did it have to die?” The young voice spoke at the verge of tears.

Her mother didn’t answer immediately. Instead, she took a seat along the grass and gently patted her lap. The little Phase plopped down snuggly; her eyes full of tears.

“You know that everything that isn’t like us can’t survive in the Hallowed Gardens, right dear?”

“… mmm. I know. I just wanted to see more of the outside… I saw a big sphere in the sky. That was a moon, right? It was a moon. I saw it.”

The woman pleasantly smiled and waited moments before speaking again.

“Yes. That was the moon.”

“It was big and bright. Blue and shiny… why can’t we have one here?”

“Because this is a sacred Region dear. In Western Six Point there are rarely any places like this. It’s all provinces and lands claimed by civilisations and Gods. We’re blessed to live in this paradise.”

“… I’m still confused.”

“Don’t be confused dear. It’ll all make sense in time. Just know that this place is guarded closely by the blessings of Ephyla … this is her birthland, after all.”

Phase looked up at her, unsatisfied with the answer. Her mother softly laughed and gently began to brush her hair. After some time the young Phase’s face turned tender, and she returned to a gentle sob once again.

“Dear?”

“… the bunny. I’m sorry mom. I miss the bunny. If I had known it would be eaten so quickly maybe I… maybe… I’m sorry. Mom, is there something wrong with me for feeling so hurt? In here?” She clutched at her chest.

The current Phase’s eyes glimmered as she slowly wiped her tears away. In a way she felt as though her mother was tending directly to her, and not her past self. The innocence of this memory nearly caused her to cry again, but she refrained and fell into soft shudders and sniffles.

“Why do you think that dear?”

“I don’t know… but I want it to go away. I hate it.”

Only the sound of the young Phase’s soft sobs could be heard. Her mother remained silent and simply looked to the Soulless around her with eyes that never shone or sparkled like her daughter’s. They were rather opaque in a way… just like the current Phase’s.

Then, as her eyes gently shut, she softly spoke in a voice that brought the world to a standstill.

“Fear the day that you forget what that pain is, my dear daughter. Fear it more than the day that it hurts you the most.”

The older Phase’s eyes widened when she heard this. The grass wavered through her trembling fingertips as she slowly brought her gaze up towards her mother.

“That pain is understanding. It’s sympathy… and it’s seldom used in this world. We’re one in the same, dear. What you feel is a gift that…”

Her mother moved her gaze to the stars, her eyes failing to reflect its glorious light. And then, they tenderly moved back to the Soulless. A sense of longing could be seen in her eyes.

“… Some of us have long lost. Life isn’t just a means to an end. It’s how we live it. That pain is one of the worst but… so long as you can feel it throbbing in your heart then you know that you’re still you. That you’re still my dear daughter; Phase.”

Phase wept. Her hands clutched onto the grass, and she wept in contained silence. She knew exactly what her mother meant…

And she knew she had become exactly what her mother warned her of.

“I’m still me?”

“Yes. All because of our curse. What we kill becomes a part of us. We gain their forms, their souls, and memories. So, it’s important to sympathise with the world. We’re Spirits of Balance. Creations of Ephyla. These were her teachings, and she forever lives on in our memories.”

“But I’ve never seen that person before, so I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

“Because you’re… you’re not as tainted as me. Your blood doesn’t contain her components either. Think of yourself a bit closer to the Children of Balance.”

“The Goddesses of Eastern Six Point? What makes us the same?”

“You’re not cursed. When you close your eyes and think, whose voice do you hear?”

“Mine but… I– I don’t understand…”

“Maybe it’s for the best that you never do.”

“Then what do you hear when you close your eyes?”

Her mother closed her eyes again, and after moments she spoke the truth.

“Billions of voices, and I’m still wondering which out of them all is mine.”

Silence befell them again. Only the sounds of Phase’s tears could be heard in this forgotten memory. She still argued with her soul as to why Desire would show her this memory. But as the silence grew and settled into the depths of heart – she realised that this memory was the most important of all.

It was a window to her mother’s suffering. As a child she would have never realised it, but in pure retrospect – it was crystal clear. Her mother had longed for the embrace of death far longer than she had been born.

“Dear, are you afraid of the Soulless?”

“Yes…”

“Is that why you wanted to leave the Hallowed Gardens?”

“Mhm. They’re creepy. Whenever I try talking to them, they just ignore me.”

“That’s just because of what they are dear. It can’t be helped. They cannot do anything other than what their soul was purposed for. Simple constructs of the Soulless are… quite innocent and docile. Even the most complex ones are of pure heart and nature. You wouldn’t think they were creatures of Despair.”

“You think so?”

“Aside from their appearance of course, dear…”

“You really seem to like them a lot, mom.”

“No. No, not at all. I envy them.”

“Envy?”

Her mother gently nodded.

“Yes. Envy. The Soulless are the antithesis of us. We keep consuming and eventually lose track of ourselves but as for them… they’ll always know who they are, what they are – and why they are. I’m still waiting for the day that I realise exactly what I am – ah. Sorry dear. I didn’t mean to go off.”

“Mom?”

“Don’t worry dear. I’m fine. When you’ve lived for as long as I have you tend to get bitter about the things in life. But…”

She looked down into Phase’s eyes, adoring her innocent eyes. Hope. That was all she could see in the clouds of despair that clouded her vision and clogged her heart. The child tilted her head, wondering if something was wrong.

Her mother broke into a gentle smile and began to brush her hair with tender passion.

“I think – no, I’ve already figured out what I am.”

* * *

“Then why did you wish to die, mom?”

Phase wanted to scream as the world faded to black.

Her selfish desire gnawed at her, urging her to scream out at the top of her lungs. But Phase refused with all her heart, and for the first time she truly understood the magnitude of her mother’s suffering.

To act like a spoiled brat now would… only cause the pain to hurt even more.

A pain which she had long forgotten.

The tears that fell through her fingertips turned to blood.

She knew where she was.

She knew what she had done.

Beneath her was the body of her mother. She laid bare with her stomach ripped open, her organs spilled across the dark ground by her knees. Her mother was a strange spirit. Spirits didn’t normally bleed, let alone carry internal organs. Yet she did. She was a Spirit with a womb, and Phase was the only known Spirit to ever be born like a mortal.

Their soulless eyes stared elsewhere into the darkness beyond. Somehow, they longed for the embrace of death far more than when she was still alive.

Phase could not bear to look at her. She trembled, hearing the exasperated voice of Uru somewhere in the darkness. The Demon could not believe what Phase had done. Instead of clogging her ears and antagonising Uru like she did in the past – she simply sat there in silence and accepted her reality.

Uru was not to be blamed for her mother’s death. Neither was Phase herself… but it was her actions that prolonged her suffering, and in turn, caused them all to suffer.

Would she see her mother again?

No. No amount of desire could ever dream to achieve that. Desires were always within one’s grasp. It was only a matter of how far out one was willing to reach for it.

But her desire was intangible. It took a thousand years for her to finally realise that no matter how far her little arms reached out –

– She could never hope to grasp it.

“Do you realise it now? Your desire was a wish all along.”

Desire’s voice spoke, and at once, the dark world quickly fizzled away. She was back within the chamber and laid flat in a puddle of flesh and debris. Her eyes could only stare up at the ceiling through the darkness… yet somehow, she felt as though she could see more clearly now.

“When a desire becomes too great it inevitably transforms into a wish, unbeknownst to us. It is the final form of one’s self-destructive delusion. We can no longer desire. Only aimlessly chase a wish that can never be fulfilled.”

Desire spoke calmly. Her voice was like velvet; a kind of voice one would hear in a trance. Angelic almost, despite her near Demon-like appearance.

Phase reluctantly listened. It was what she should have done in the beginning. And besides, what more could she do now? Her pride had been shattered and she was left humiliated by her childish arrogance.

Maybe if she also chose to listen to Uru back then things may have been more… painless for her. For them all.

“The [Curse of Desire] shows you your deepest desires.”

Desire began as Phase slowly sat herself up.

“My [Mark of Desire] shows you why. It tortures the soul with visions of one’s desire, and when the soul is consumed by its flames – they are shown specific memories rather than fabricated realities. The [Curse of Desire] only draws out one’s desire, but it is the [Mark of Desire] that makes one understand it from its very roots. Yours happened to be a wish. The most insidious form of desire when one fails, or like you, refuses to acknowledge it whether through arrogance, naivety or ignorance.”

Desire outstretched a hand and clasped at nothing. Slowly, the silent screams of the living floor turned to anguished whimpers, and then – all fell silent. The carcasses of an amalgamation of flesh remained in mineral, charcoal-like state of petrification.

They had all been completely drained by the Well of Wishes. Their desires had rendered them down to a state that could barely passed as the Undead.

“When a desire becomes a wish, it is a sign for one to let go. They become gravity wells within the heart and trap us to the past. It is completely counter intuitive to the nature of desires. Phase – I want you to understand that desires exist to grant us purpose. They are what keep the living from stagnation and obsoleteness. A wish however – is an idealization. A perversion of reality.”

Phase silently listened. No fibre of her being could deny the words that rung around her. They resonated within her guilty heart as she only stared up at the dark-cladded figure with deflated eyes.

She couldn’t cry anymore even if she wanted to.

“An attachment of that kind will only forever keep you anchored to suffering. Do you not see that the [Mark of Desire] is the recalibration of one’s heart? It resurfaces what was. Leaves you to decide what is. Then tasks you to carve out what will. I can only show you this. You need to decide what happens next.”

“You make it sound so easy… How can I- how can I just stop wanting to be with my mom? All this time I’ve wanted nothing more than to see her… how? How can I let go? How can you possibly expect me to let her go!?” Phase suddenly erupted in distress as she clasped at her head. “… why… why am I being given another chance when I… I…”

“Maybe the world isn’t so black and white like you’ve come to dye it in. We exist perpetually as the malevolent and the benevolent. There exists a silver lining that only few will ever reach in accordance with the powers that an Overlord dictates. An epiphany that transcends all. But in the end; you need to decide whether you grasp it in both hands, or to return to reaching out towards a false wish.”

Desire spoke again, her other hand joining the other as they reached into the darkness.

“Your soul survived the whipping of my [Mark of Desire]. I could easily anoint you as one of my apostles – in line with Zeluru and the corrupted one in Palvel. But I won’t, Phase. Your mother would never forgive me if I did.”

“… you – what do you mean – !? You detested my mother, and now you speak like you care! What – just what was she to you!?” Phase roared as a searing anger began to burn within her once again.

A longing smile formed across Desire’s face. She looked into the empty palms of her hands and slowly shut her eyes.

And then she finally answered.

“A cacophony of life itself. An amalgamation of billions of species was the woman I knew. A nightmare that roamed the physical plane and tormented all life that stood in her way. Like mother like daughter. But you possess a name. An identity. A sense of self. Your mother never possessed one.”

“That doesn’t answer anything. I already know everything about my mom! I want you to just tell me what the hell she was to you!” Phase exclaimed.

“The nameless. The cursed. The devourer. The wicked. The cleanser. The absorber. The many. The whole. The united. The clustered… how many names will we go by? A thousand years will pass by the time I tell you everything that she was, but – I suppose we both don’t currently have that luxury. The irony of your mother’s creator was that she failed to bestow her a name. Such is the logic of Ephyla, your mother’s creator. She was doomed to forget herself from the very beginning. Insidious design, is it not?”

“… so what? That still… still doesn’t answer anything!”

“Hear me, Phase. I’m telling you this because I was there to witness it. All from the beginning to the fated end. Her desires were countless and mismatched. I was roused to seek her, and amongst the void of clashing minds and identities – I heard her voice. You asked me what she was to me Phase, and I shall tell you.”

Suddenly, a bright display of light exploded from between her palms. A light that rivalled the sun painted each of the furthest corners of the chamber, leaving not a single shadow in its wake.

In her palms was a light-blue orb. It brimmed with energy akin to billions of souls-worth of mana, radiating a heat that managed to melt the petrified flesh beneath. However – this heat was instinctively nostalgic to Phase.

“She was my one and only desire.” Desire announced, and as if on cue – the entire chamber began to quake.

Phase desperately patted at her robes in search for the special object but to no avail. Her eyes fell back onto the object held in Desire’s hands and she quickly summoned her blades back to her side.

It was undoubtably the orb which contained her mother’s soul.

“M-Mom –!? Desire – G-give her back –!” She flung countless blades with unparalleled velocity as the chamber began to tear itself apart from the seams. Her blades were struck down by an invisible force and the falling debris as layers of the catacombs began to collapse into itself.

The cause of this destruction was the light that emitted from the orb. It fluctuated like silk in the wind as they fell into the darkness of the Well of Wishes. The very image of a black hole devouring a stellar body was reminiscent of the spectacle that unfolded. But Phase didn’t admire it. Rather – her heart felt like it had sunken into an arctic sea. Ice coursed through her veins when she realised what was used to fuel the Well of Wishes.

It was not biomass.

Neither was desires but instead, and to her utter dismay –

– It fed on souls.

“[Soul Sight]. A gift that not many possess. But in such insurmountable quantities – even the living can see them in all their glory. I must thank you Phase.”

The ceiling directly above the Well of Wishes split like a fissure. Hundreds of meters worth of stone, brick, soil, and sediment crumbled into a perfect opening for the monumental object. The Undead Brutes revered in its power as they scurried into the object’s shadow to hide from the light that flooded in.

“You’ve brought the last piece of the puzzle right into our hands. So willingly as well. But it is fate that made it seem like it was the only choice. Oh Phase –”

And as the world continued to crumble and collapse all around them – the Well of Wishes suddenly fired a beam of darkness straight through the fissure. Phase could only watch in disbelief as the orb in Desire’s hand finally shattered into thousands of fragments.

Her mother’s soul had been absorbed into the collective void within the Well of Wishes.

The world moved slowly. The Undead began to heave the orb up into the Great Plains above. It floated with the majesty of a celestial object. A certain hum emanated from deep within, forever vibrating the air and the bones of those that dared to set their gaze upon it as golden particles quickly began to surround it like stellar dust.

Its destination was Palvel, where the wish-granting ritual would take place. An audience of thousands were already seated to witness the dawn of a new Era.

“– What will you do now?”