Retrospective.

April 28th, 2026. Morning.

Halfway across the world from Retly stranded in the middle of a desert, a foot pushed onto the Island's shore.

Hooded attire drenched from the ocean, he squeezed the water from his locks; bunched together with one tight squeeze. Wiping away stray sand dirtying his outfit's shoulders, he turned around and looked out to the sparkling, blue ocean horizon.

Rising over the destroyed debris scattered about the Remnant World's dirty ground, the Judge's tanned skin shone against the ascended sun glistening amid the golden heavens. Shakily, he inhaled and faced the abandoned city of the failed Riverton civilization. Bypassing disfigured carcasses and destroyed buildings, Alex walked uphill, turning left at the corner.

'Katie, you have people that care for you. A father that adores you. A brother that loves you. You did what you thought was right.'

He persistently marched against the road, curious white eyes examining forgettable buildings. His fingers lingered; momentarily hovering over the hair atop his head. Then, he stopped, affixing his strands and tying them together. Having finished making his hair into a man-bun, Alex continued walking, searching for that familiar sight.

'Don't let anyone take that truth away from you. This isn't your sin. This is your freedom.'

That structure; akin to a castle, now towered over him. Hands hidden within his clothes' pouches, Alex's ivory retinas moved around, examining the despair thrown onto the unfortunate household. If he closed his eyes and lowered his head, upon covering his ears, he could properly remember those nostalgic old times.

But he couldn't bring it back. The world prepared to hate them, they made direct enemies after ambushing Retly. Despite his strongest urges, there was no reversing time. Alexander sighed into the weary air, heavy with Riverton's innocent losses.

'The second I extended my hand to those four; that's what I decided, wasn't it? To be the best me I could be. If not for myself, then for my mother, my father.'

He started moving again. Continuing down the path, then making a right at the corner. After walking down that road, he made a left and then found an alleyway littered with garbage. Walking down that corridor, he exited on the other side, now facing where he used to live on that infamous Island. While Riverton's center was entirely decimated, his building had miraculously survived. He could only hope the contents were as safe as the exterior appearance.

Alex nodded to himself and then whispered, "Right."

He stepped toward the entrance. Without even extending his arm, the door flew back, revealing the house's comfortable interior. He finally entered, mushing through smaller corridors, reaching even further as he eventually pushed his sole against the first step. Hands pocketed, he gradually rose the stairway, climaxing at the summit and peeking around the final corner.

Luckily for him, the rubble blocking his advance was mere child's play. The Judge waved his hand around, personally levitating the prohibiting debris. Fragments hovered overhead as he passed through the unblocked hallway, his tanned fingers wrapped around the closest doorknob. What sat in that bed and under those covers was nobody. Inside that chamber, where you felt most safe and slept so soundly, it was entirely vacant.

Or, in other words: devoid of his wife. Alexander retracted into the hallway, closing the door behind him. Scratching his nape, spread open the curtains, thus revealing the balcony fitted with a table and a chair seated atop the verge. Sliding closed the door behind him, the Judge leaned against the balcony railing; arms stretched over the fencing.

The outside world's vast scenery reflected the morning sun's unavoidable shine. The starry already vanished in tandem with the moon's disappearance. To think that he could stand here under this blessed sunlight and bathe under this golden illumination. If he was the way he was before, he'd undoubtedly hesitate before accepting any of these luxuries. Regardless of what anyone believed, this was the world they resided within. It was ruthless.

Some persisted onward despite the endless difficulties, others sacrificed themselves to despair. But while those two types existed, a third was the most common.

Alex started sniffling, the hands in his pockets revealing themselves gradually as his head started sinking. Forehead creasing once skin sunk into metal, his fist tightly clenched. Weak sobs escaped his mouth, tears uncontrollably pouring out the ducts. Clenching his teeth leading to a wavering inhalation, he collapsed onto his knees and whispered those familiar names,

"Rose… Brother… Dad… Mom… someone please tell me... if I'm doing the right thing…"

…

While Alex pleaded to his adored lost relatives, across the sea, beyond the cleansed Remnant World—Katie laid idle in her bed.

Turning her eyes away from the sunny outside leaking into her bedroom and onto her face, she momentarily examined the boring ceiling. She unintentionally inhaled heavily, expanding the size of her hair immediately before finally a minute or so later. Only then after her abnormal breathing was she prepared to get ready for the day ahead, her feet dangling over the mattress verge.

The tips of her toes hovered over the bedroom carpet. There was the tiniest space before she finally implanted her soles against the ground, where her hand grabbed onto her head. Massaging her temples with her fingers, Katie abruptly unleashed one groan.

'When the hell did things get so convoluted? In the past, I was so sure this was what I wanted. Even if the entire world was destroyed, I wouldn't care. That would be my justice… because the world was filled with horrible people ever since the start. I know I'm not the only one who initially felt that way. But, am I the only one who's truly started changing their mind?'

Kate chuckled sheepishly. Rubbing her eyes with her fingers, she removed her bottom from the mattress and began sleepily shuffling toward the darkened bathroom; door wide open. Brightening up the chamber with one simple flick, Katie turned to her mirror and saw that the only darkness within this illuminated chamber was herself. Instead of examining her palm, she went to unsheath her Blade. Analyzing the Blackened steel, she brushed her fingers along the sharpness… instinctively stepping back to sit against the covered toilet nestled into the corner.

Her dark blue eyes lost their radiance as she began remembering that time. Just four or so years prior, when she was so ignorant to the way the world worked beyond the scope of herself. So plagued by trauma and despair, she couldn't even distinguish what was 'right' or 'wrong'.

'You cried into my neck, remember…? You killed all those monsters before, you saved me. Alex cherishes you, I will cherish you, and June and Kima will cherish you, too! But… I can't do it for you. Kate, I can't make you happy. In the end, we'll always die alone. So, no matter what happens, you must be responsible for your happiness. In the end, Katie… it's all up to you.'

Katie's breath hitched. Sticking her katana inside the snowy cover, she sighed.

'Everything that's happened—everything that I've done. If I turn my back on everyone now, what kind of person will I be to them? Just so my father, those putrid adults who think they're righteous could think I was a good child? Yeah, right. Like I could ever do something as traitorous as that.'

Katie stood up from the toilet. The Blade vanished from her grip, momentarily shifting transparent before disappearing completely. Sliding along the bare-cold floor with her exposed feet, she discarded the shower's curtain with one rightward swipe. Uplifting her right leg, she stood inside the tub and suddenly felt the warmth of the water flow through her strands, not to mention splash right onto her cold, dry face.

'Even now, I can't escape how I felt before. The source of all that death. I was the one who brought an end to all those lives—nobody else. But what did that bring me? Riverton was my upbringing, I was the one who endured all that hate; nobody else. And as a result of that hate, I slaughtered everyone. I told myself it was the right thing to do. I've always believed that. I am pushed by something beyond this ordinary scenery… I always have been.'

She spent some time in the shower. Washing her hair, armpits, legs, back; everything. After 30 or so minutes, she exited with steam expressing itself from behind the closed curtain. Tying a towel around her damp strands, she searched for another, rummaging through the dirty clothes pile to find that malodorous towel. Sticking out her tongue, resisting the urge to gag, she held it between two fingers and moaned.

"I need to do the laundry…" She lamented.

Regardless, she persisted through the unbearable stench and wrapped the towel around her bust. Walking out of her bathroom, she glided around lifelessly; as if she were a ghost. All the while she subconsciously walked, those thoughts kept coursing throughout her mind's inner depths.

'If we killed everyone outside the Capital, rid the world of its cityscape—the only thing left would be a blank plain. The only ones who'd exist would be us Requiem Subjects. Our lineage would persist for generations to come and our descendants would truly be able to live fulfilling peaceful lives. That's the path we choose for ourselves. The path of genocide.'

Katie threw her usual outfit over her body and exited her room. She decided to make coffee and with that, she started boiling water. However, without anything more to do while patiently waiting for it to boil, she leaned back against the counter and continued thinking.

'I guess there's no doubt we're going through with it. Dad doesn't have any alternatives besides just fighting back Retly whenever they retaliate. There's only one question left then. This choice might be the last one we're able to make but…'

The coffee was ready. Pouring it from the maker's pot and into her dark blue cup, she smiled at the smell of freshly-boiled coffee. Cupping it at both ends with two hands, she pushed it up to her lips and slowly sipped.

'Is this the 'right' choice?'

The shuffling sound of skidding sandals infiltrated her ears, her head turning toward the source. The shirt hung off one shoulder and exposed her collar, June's messy hairstyle was accompanied by a sleepy eye rub.

"You look like you slept well," Kate teased her cousin.

June ignored her and went to pick out her dark green mug from the rack. Shortly after pouring coffee into her cup, she slowly sipped every few seconds; attempting not to burn herself. Resting against the counter's edge, Katie held the cup with one hand and started speaking.

"Did you ever regret choosing to side with us after you broke me out?" Katie asked.

June stared into her brown drink barely reflecting her small, white face.

"I haven't yet. If I did shortly, would you despise me for it?" June asked back at her.

Katie chuckled gently. Her eyes closed and head to the ground, she stifled out a genuine response with a smile on her face.

"No. I feel like, more than anyone ever could, I'd be the one to understand the most for some reason," Katie explained.

June nodded, and took another sip from her coffee. Planting her cup onto the kitchen's island, she slid away and entered her room while tying her hair back. Katie heard the sound of her bedroom door closing while carrying two plates. One with freshly-made pancakes steaming hot and the other with freshly-made waffles. Stepping into the kitchen, she cleaned the table and set everything apart. To her delight, everything was neatly set. She just knew that June would mess it up when she entered to get her food so she cherished this order for the short time being.

June exited a second time. However, differing from the last iteration, her hair was now dry and resting in the air, tied into a bun. Despite her refreshed facial appearance, though, her chest stood snuggled in that overgrown shirt she stole so mischievously from her brother. Being handed her made plate by her relative, she comforted herself in the seat beside Katie facing the outfitted table.

"You remember we have a meeting today?" Katie muffledly queried while chewing.

"Completely forgot until you just told me," June answered nonchalantly.

"At least you're honest about it. I'll half to remind you that this is an important debate. After the infighting's been dispersed, the brass and Riot will be discussing the government's next move with our newly discovered asset: a sample of Azrael's angelic blood and a vial of Callum Rivers' stolen Requiem blood."

After Katie reminded her cousin of the upcoming discussion, time unwaveringly accelerated. The bypassing hours felt like minutes skipping by with every swift moment gradually expanding the range of time far more infinitely than ever.

The time for the meeting came with the afternoon sun risen overhead. Everyone was gathered in the meeting room in the rebuilt Tower headquarters from the likes of Riot's leader: the Scarlet King to the brass's new representative: Detective Azazel Karlo.

In the middle of the assembling chamber sat an idle table. Riot's members spread across the left-hand side visible from above while the Evolutionary impatiently sat on the right-hand portion. Irritably sipping from his tea with an abnormal grip, Azazel whispered, "That stupid brat is late again."

The awkward silence dominated the room, only second-in-command to the Detective's red-hot death store piercing through Ace's soul. That was until the meeting room's doors were pushed wide open, revealing their late, final member in the form of the lazing Requiem Judge: Alexander Amara.

"Sorry I'm late, everyone! I was just busy freshening myself up today before my grand onstage performance!" He dramatically announced.

Already leaned over his chair's rear, the Detective's inescapable glare bounced itself across the chamber before reaching the heart of its victim: Alex's heart. To think that someone as powerful as Riot's mentor would succumb to such an unbelievable technique, for he was completely immobilized once Karlo's retinas locked onto his build.

Lowering his head and then raising his hand, Alex somberly spoke, "I'm sorry for my lateness. It won't happen again." Finally, he slid around the table and flattened his bottom against the seat's cushioned softness.

The contents rested atop the furniture. Two vials of ulterior blood. One belonged to the Angel captain Azrael, the other stolen from Alexander Amara's innards and injected into Callum Rivers before being retaken.

"Before this discussion progresses, we'd like to clear up any confusion by quickly yet thoroughly explaining what each of these assets is personally capable of," Detective Karlo clarified.

"Incarnated Artifacts present in the New World have the same body structure as they did in the Old World. However, this rule only applies to 'Artifacts' summoned by Naraku after he'd obtained the Requiem Artifact at the end of August 2021. Azrael was one of those many few, meaning that he has angelic blood. Angelic blood injected into regular humans will activate a Requiem Subject's dormant Requiem abilities. Everyone present in this room and the Capital is undoubtedly a Requiem Subject."

After having finished explaining Azrael's blood, the Detective's eyes locked onto the vial beside the angelic gore. Despite the resistant container it was locked within, every so often, the blood would unleash a tiny white crackle further signifying whose blood this was.

"Originally, this was Alex's blood taken by Icarus and given to the Founder. Using his innate technique, the Jester was able to manipulate the shape of the blood so it could adapt to new hosts. So, after he gave the blood to the Founder, he injected it into himself and was able to use the Requiem Artifact. We were only able to recover Alex's stolen blood back now thanks to Katie's Source. After it spent some time circulating inside of the Founder, it's adapted to the New World's specific framework for anatomic structure. Meaning that we could consensually inject anyone here with this vial and they could become a full-blown Requiem akin to the likes of the Judge or even stronger," Karlo finally finished explaining.

Everyone was still silent, awaiting their professional turn to speak as their impatient eyes searched around this drab meeting room. Momentarily looking to Hana seated on the far left with Jefferson between the two, he inhaled shakily. Then, he looked to his daughter, his niece, and his nephew. His eyes gently closed.

"Now then. Without any further ado, let's begin."