The outside world

The current year was 966 CE, deep into this era's 10th century. The world, though recovered had began seeing Small Honkai event occur world wide .

Schicksal, a growing Anti-Honkai organisation, has expanded its reach significantly through Europe, since its founding in the 7th century. It was established by two noble houses as of today—the House Kaslana and the House Apocalypse—both of which wielded immense influence within the organization. To this day, Schicksal had cycled through ninety-seven overseers, each leaving their mark either small or big.

And now, on the 1st of January, 966 CE, a new name would take its first steps into this era: Freya Schariac, accompanied by her daughter, Diana Schariac, and the 'mysterious' pink elf .

After nearly a year after her awakening, where she lived hidden deep within the Alps of south-central Europe within the remnants of a Fire moth facility, Freya had made her decision. It was finally time to journey outward—to move eastward across the landmass, traversing the new growing human civilisation and wilderness alike. Their destination? A remote location in southeast Asia, not far from the Mariana Trench to hopeful locate the 6th Divine key she had 'accidently' thrown.

The journey would be long. Five and a half years, they would walk most of the journey. It would give her enough time for teaching her daughter most of what she knew that was important for her Daughter survival in this world.

Along the way, she would begin shaping her daughter into something greater—not only teaching Diana basic survival skills and tactics, but also beginning her formal training in spear combat, a thing Freya herself knew well. She would ensure her daughter wasn't just prepared for the outside world… she would thrive in it.

There was much to teach. Reading, writing, arithmetic, philosophy, battlefield theory, emotional control, and perhaps most importantly—how to navigate a world and its politics.

Diana, now nine years old, had celebrated her birthday just weeks earlier—on December 27th. When Freya revealed their future travel plans, Diana had practically exploded with joy. Wide-eyed and eager, it would be her very first time seeing the world beyond the ruined walls of their hidden home. Her excitement was contagious, if a little overwhelming.

For Freya, however, it wasn't so simple. This journey marked a turning point. It was no longer just about watching and giving out verdicts—it was about shaping the future for her own Daughter.

For now Diana was simply a girl seeing the sky for the first time and she would be that bird that would fly towards it after all the sky to most was the true freedom of this world. 

After all a long time ago, someone had once asked her:

"Why do birds fly?"

Freya, back then, had answered without hesitation—voice calm, gaze distant, like she was staring far beyond the horizon:

"To escape the shackles that bind them to the laws of this world.

To be free—truly free—one must rise above the chains of fate, above fear, pain, even the world itself.

Birds fly not just to live, but to dream.

To soar beyond the clouds…

and reach for the stars—

so ever distant,

and yet always calling."

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Deep within the Alps, three figures emerged from the veil of ancient forest, stepping out into the dawning light of a new world.

Freya Schariac held the small, delicate hand of her daughter, Diana, who in turn clutched tightly onto Elf Elysia—imbued with the consciousness of the ever-irritating pink Herrscher. Elysia's tiny body was no more than a foot tall, dressed in her characteristic white-and-black ensemble with lilac accents, her pointed ears twitching as she took in the forest with a carefree smile.

Together, the trio left the mountains behind. Both Freya and Diana were dressed in garments far more suitable for the era—simple yet elegant robes of soft white linen that gave them the appearance of wandering priestesses. Their clothing swayed gently in the alpine breeze, offering comfort and mobility for the long road ahead.

Diana's eyes, wide with childlike wonder, darted from tree to sky, from stone to distant peaks, soaking in the world for the very first time. Everything was new, everything a mystery waiting to be solved. She tugged gently at her mother's hand, bombarding her with rapid-fire questions about everything she saw.

"Momma, what's that thing in the sky? Are clouds soft? Do trees talk? Does the elf eat food?"

Each question came with barely a breath between them, her voice bubbling with curiosity.

Freya, walking at a steady pace, listened patiently, an amused smile tugging at her lips. Her normally aloof demeanor softened with each passing moment. She answered every question in a gentle, affectionate tone, indulging her daughter's curiosity without hesitation.

"That's a buzzard, Diana. Clouds? They're soft-looking, but they're just water vapor. Trees don't talk, though the wind makes them whisper. And no, the elf doesn't eat—though she pretends to."

Elf Elysia, nestled in Diana's arms, crossed her tiny arms with a pout.

"I can still enjoy pretend food, thank you very much. I miss strawberry pastries!"

Diana giggled loudly, hugging the elf a little tighter. "She's so silly, Momma."

Freya sighed, though her smile lingered. "Yes, she is. Unfortunately, I made the mistake of letting her stay."

After answering a particularly strange one—something about whether rocks could feel emotions—Freya chuckled and reached down, ruffling Diana's soft white-and-pink hair. The girl giggled in return, leaning into her mother's side as they continued their journey down the winding path.

The world was vast. The future uncertain. But in that moment, with her daughter nestled beside her and an annoyingly cheerful elf spirit humming nonsense songs under her breath, Freya felt something unfamiliar stir in her chest:

Hope—that perhaps this time, this era's civilization might just succeed. Even if just a little chance for them to succeed.

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Their journey was slow, but peaceful. The only sound accompanying the pair was the soft crunch of dirt and gravel beneath their feet as they moved steadily eastward, away from the tall and vast Alps. The air was still—too still for Freya's liking.

Her eyes, sharp and watchful, scanned the treeline. Not a single Honkai beast? That wasn't normal. Even a stray Seraph-class was a common sight in any region. She tried to dismiss the gnawing unease, blaming it on her 'Frey' Ing nerves. After all, she hadn't exactly been in the best state of mind lately.

Freya's hand instinctively tightened around the smaller one in her grasp—Diana's. In response, she began gently rubbing the girl's palm with her thumb, a small affectionate motion. Diana giggled at the ticklish sensation, and the sound was like a balm to Freya's heart.

Her smile grew softer—warmer. Not cold or reserved like before. No, this one was different. It was genuine, alive. Diana, gazing up at her, was mesmerized. Momma's smile… it's so pretty, she thought. Almost like it sparkled like the distant stars.

They passed trees, wild animals, glistening streams—untouched fragments of a forgotten world. Still, not a single human, nor a trace of the Honkai. Maybe this was it, Freya considered. Maybe this is the peaceful life I've been chasing—where I can simply raise my child in peace, love her, protect her, and let the world move on without me…

Then—

Boom.

A violent explosion ripped through the forest's stillness.

Freya's instincts ignited. In one fluid, motherly motion, she scooped Diana tightly into one arm, shielding the girl's small frame. With her other arm free, she spun on her heel—her back foot digging deep into the earth, kicking up clumps of soil as she launched them both backward through the air in a graceful arc. Her robes flared around her like wings, catching the wind as she twisted mid-leap.

They landed hard several meters away—Freya's heel grinding into the gravel to halt their momentum. Her knees bent to absorb the impact, her body curled protectively around Diana, whose arms were wrapped around Elf Elysia, squeezed like a stuffed toy.

The smoke cleared.

Before them, a Chariot-class Honkai beast loomed, its plated limbs bristling with violent energy. Overhead, several Seraph-class Honkai beast circled like vultures with burning silicon wings.

Freya's grip on her daughter tightened, but her voice remained calm—dangerously so.

"A Chariot-class and Seraphs... Looks like I jinxed us, dear," she muttered.

Elf Elysia, muffled by Diana's arms, squeaked with visible panic. "I'd like to file a formal protest! Can we not be attacked today?!"

Freya ignored her. Her gaze hardened.

The Chariot-class Honkai beast leaped towards them.

Freya's eyes blazed to life—glowing a light purplish-red as storm clouds gathered overhead. A thunderclap shattered the sky as a bolt of lightning struck the Chariot-class, freezing it mid-charge.

She reached into the folds of her linen garment and pulled a single, glinting coin between two fingers. She tossed it lightly into the air, eyes never leaving the advancing Honkai beasts.

Time seemed to slow.

The coin flipped, spinning through the air above her—its edges catching the light. And just as it descended—

She exhaled slowly, her expression unreadable. Then—her eyes darkened, shifting into an eerily intense darker shade of purple, the colour of a storm's heart—like lightning before it strikes.

Time seemed to hold its breath.

Flick.

Freya caught it between her fingers, and the moment it made contact, a burst of electromagnetic force surged through her thumb—ripping outward in violent arcs. Her aura pulsed, the air around her growing dense with magnetic pressure.

She pointed the coin like a bullet, lining up the shot with perfect clarity.

Flick.

The coin tore forward with a boom, propelled like a round from a railgun. The sonic boom of its launch shattered the silence, and the charged projectile pierced through the Chariot's core, detonating it from within. Still hot, it continued its deadly arc—slicing through several circling Seraphs in a single searing line—before disappearing into the far-off mountain range with one final, distant boom.

Silence returned.

Freya stood upright, the glow in her eyes fading back to that soft ocean blue with those signature flecks of pink. Her chest rose and fell slowly into a tired sigh.

In her arms, Diana's awe-struck face gazed upward, stars in her eyes.

"THAT. WAS. SO. COOL!!" she gasped. "You flicked the coin! It went boom! Momma, did you use magic?! What was that?! Can I do it?! Is Elfy okay?!"

Elf Elysia, dizzy and upside down in Diana's grasp, groaned, "Still here… somehow… I demand pastries..."

Freya chuckled softly, ruffling her daughter's hair and giving Elysia a brief smirk. "We'll talk about it later, little flower. For now—stay close."

Diana nodded quickly, still grinning ear to ear. She clung tightly to her mother's side and hugging the elf in her other. And they resumed their journey.

It wasn't as peaceful as before. But something deeper had awakened in Diana's heart:

A dream.

She wanted to be just like her mother. Someone who could fight for the love—and beauty—of this world.

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somewhere deep within the vast forests of Asia…

Shrouded by towering trees and the misty breath of the land, a long-forgotten tomb rested slumbering beneath a canopy of silence. Its moss-covered walls crumbled beneath the weight of time, half-swallowed by creeping vines and roots of nature. Rain fell in steady rhythm, a mournful percussion against stone once etched with meaning—carvings long worn, now barely legible beneath millennia's of erosion.

The air was thick with silence.

Ancient murals, hidden in shadow, whispered warnings to those who dared disturb the tomb. Tales of power and consequence etched into every surface. Time had tried to erase it—but some things refuse to be forgotten.

And at the heart of the tomb, on a pedestal carved from blackened marble and ringed in fractured stone, it sat.

A cube.

Silent.

Dormant.

Radiating a soft, golden glow—defiant against the decay that surrounded it.

This was no ordinary artifact. This was the First Divine Key. Void Archives.

The last to be created before the fall of the previous era. A creation of the enigmatic Vill-V, a magican lost to time, her name now forgotten.

Void Archives held secrets. Dangerous ones. Truths that could shatter illusions and reshape understanding of the current era of humanity's knowledge. It was not just a weapon. It was a vault. A record.

And perhaps, a final chance.

Only one with the insight—and the wisdom—to unlock it would uncover the cruel, cold truths it kept sealed within. A choice awaited for whoever discovered it.

To seek understanding. Or remain blind to the reality they stood upon.