So I Will Live

In the castle hidden beneath endless apparitions of sand, a girl sat by the window. Her black hair and eyes contrasted with her pale skin—a trait shared by the tribesmen of Tipun.

"Such quiet thunder." She rested her head on her knees, watching the clouds darken. The calm of yesterday was about to be undone across Fenros.

Back in her homeland, the chaos of the skies made the underground their only refuge. The mountains were low, the surface a wasteland. She recalled how vegetation bloomed rapidly whenever the storms calmed.

Then, something changed. A shift in the world—far away, something had happened. Something bad.

"I must leave."

She moved swiftly, gathering what little she needed, but before she could finish, someone attempted to open her door. She grabbed her bag—half-packed—and leapt out the window.

For a moment, she was free-falling. The wind rushed past her small frame, her dark hair whipping in the air. Above, the rolling clouds heralded another storm.

But this time, it was different.

Lights streaked above the clouds, barely visible through the roiling mass. Meteors.

She began to whisper, praying to the storm God of her people.

Her fall slowed. Then slowed more.

Then suddenly—she moved sideways. Gravity itself seemed to shift, pulling her northward. To the boundary between Oran and Serth.

All of this was seen by Salim, who could have stopped her. But he didn't.

"Close," he thought. "Just a few more years."

Uncaring of whether the girl survived or not, he turned back to his chambers. Inside the opulent room, he undressed, sat on his bed, and closed his eyes.

And meditated.

* * *

Leon reached the City of Gates under a sky about to welcome familiar weather. Kindrall was in turmoil—Warriors and Arbiters raced between houses, their unnatural speed blurring their figures.

Leon wove through them unseen, his trails erased as effortlessly as breathing.

But something else was fading with it.

Without realizing it—each time he manifested his desires—his longing to see his family, to uncover his origins, to explore the world... was dwindling.

Each time he used [Null], the pieces of himself slipped away.

Before long, he arrived.

A familiar house.

It stood as it always had—clean, sturdy, patched with signs of homemade repairs. A bastion of warmth. Of longing.

The steps where he had once been left as a child had not changed. He remembered every detail.

Or he should have—he furrowed his brows as he struggled to recall those details. But soon, his thoughts shifted to something else.

It had not even been a week since he left. Yet, so quickly, his life had unraveled.

The house was quiet.

No laughter from Tanya. No clashing of wooden longswords. No clinking of spoons against ceramic.

Leon's heart clenched. 'Something happened.'

But then—the scent of Selia's cooking reached him. And his stomach grumbled.

He watched through the window, invisible to all. 'They are all there.'

Relief washed over him. 'Without me.'

Tanya, usually so full of life, ate in silence, fear lingering in her eyes. Garthem sat stiffly, barely speaking. Selia continued cooking, but her movements lacked their usual warmth.

And Felix… just sat there, eyes closed, his food untouched.

"They seem fine."

Leon's eyes dulled further.

He jumped down from the window, silent.

"They have changed."

He stepped back.

Turned.

And left.

"I… am glad."

As the sky darkened, he moved south, to Hathur, his guess. Toward the outskirts.

Toward the girl.

"If she's still alive."

* * *

Belphet watched the scene unfold, unmoving. His hair now gray to match the clouds.

He nodded. "We are the same."

But this time, he did not follow Leon. His eyes were set eastward.

"I will save you all."

He turned, gaze lingering in the direction Leon had gone for just a moment.

"I will show him the truth. What existence should have been."

And vanished.

* * *

Leon ran.

The world blurred around him—rolling hills the size of mountains, barren and dry from the previous day's calm.

The earth of Fenros drank water like a sponge, absorbing storms to prevent disaster.

Something nagged at him.

He thought of it.

[STATUS]

True Name:

Rank:

Soul:

Core:

Race:

Strength:

Dexterity:

Vitality:

Perception:

Intelligence:

Law:

Will: [Null]

Aspects:

Skills:

Titles: [ALL], [Firstborn of the First Foul],

Traits: [Viewed],

The ground was dark, mirroring the sky above.

'Why?'

Leon stopped running, his face twisting in anger.

'Why is it like this again?'

He clenched his fists and struck the barren ground.

'Why am I different?'

He knelt, fists digging into the earth.

And then—he stopped. Another question was lit.

After the cave. The fight with Malrik. The betrayal. The Integration.

"Why was I so calm?"

His mind reeled. Before Calla, Joan, and Leia died, he accepted the deaths of the students. Even Mardak's.

Even Orick's betrayal—which had fueled his burning anger then—was smothered now.

His fists trembled.

"When did I become like this?"

Rain began to fall.

He tried to recall Leia's face.

But it was fading.

His eyes burned.

"Am I dead?"

Thunder answered.

The rain soaked him, replacing his tears.

He hit the moistening ground again, sobbing, laughing, gasping.

Then, cackling.

Not his.

Not the lightning.

The cackling of creatures.

Grimchatters.

Massive, twisted hyenas, their forms after Integration the size of a bear's.

They circled him, their laughter blending with the storm.

Leon's cries turned to screams. He wanted to hear himself cry, to pity himself more.

But the world did not acknowledge his suffering.

The Grimchatters mocked him.

The world laughed with them.

At him.

His eyes burned with something beyond rage.

"You—"

He didn't finish the thought.

A maw closed around his torso.

No blood. Just a feeling of restraint.

He laughed. A hollow, cracking sound.

His eyes squinted to accommodate a wide smile.

And the sky darkened further.

The pack fell silent.

And then—to pieces.

The Grimchatters sprawled on the ground, torn apart before they could understand what had happened.

'I see.'

Kneeling beside a corpse, he whispered.

"Disappear."

So it did.

And so did his remaining rage. 'I see.'

The storm howled, but Leon only cackled.

He laughed with the storm.

"Ha! I kill myself each time I try to survive!"

He, despite the emptiness he felt, laughed at the sick joke.

An attempt to retake what was lost—his humanity.

'Am I human?'

His stomach growled in response. He looked at the corpses.

And ate in the pelting rain.

He remembered his family.

"I wasn't abandoned."

Tears mixed with rainwater. The vale singing a chorus Leon could not comprehend.

"They think I'm alive."

He swallowed the last bite.

And in the storm, he stood up. His face lit up by lightning and the lights that flew across the sky.

Then smiled.

"So I will live."