The place between Paths—it was said to be where AEONS and their Paths connected.
Anyone who sought to become a Pathstrider would pass through here.
Here, they would be given the most important chance of their lifetime.
Perhaps even the only chance to ever receive the gaze of an AEON.
It was said that even dead AEONS would still cast their gaze here, still grant power.
And now, Hoshigaki Sora found himself here.
But the one who stood before him was not any AEON he knew.
It was the AEON of Propagation—Titanironia.
The same being he had just fought against, blade to blade, in battle.
They had clashed long, their ideals grinding against each other.
Had Heart not given Sora a heart that could burn forever, he would likely have fallen midway.
But in the end, the result was decided.
Sora's creed, with the aid of the Iron Cavalry, had won.
Victory and defeat had been settled.
There was no reason to keep fighting.
And so, the two who had just sought to kill one another now stood face to face, speaking.
Or rather—it was Titanironia who questioned him.
The reason he had fought, all the way to the very end—that was something she still could not understand.
And the answer he gave—was one she had heard before, but had never, could never believe.
"To help others? To lend a hand? To find joy in helping?"
In this galaxy, those who followed such things were either betrayed and sold out, or slowly twisted by the truth of this universe into the very thing they hated.
Only the rarest of souls held onto their true hearts until the very end.
Could this man be one of them?
Titanironia studied him.
And Sora—for his part—was staring around, gawking at the scenery.
This "place between Paths" was nothing like the version he had seen in the game.
Here, starry nebulae stretched in radiant patterns.
In the far distance, vague silhouettes loomed.
He focused, until he could make them out—
A shattered shell, insect body collapsed in mud.
A dragon of scales, utterly stilled.
A puppet of broken order.
A human-shaped figure that, even in stillness, radiated beauty.
The sight made his spine crawl.
And he understood.
This was no "place between Paths."
This was a graveyard of AEONS.
Those figures were the great names of the galaxy, fallen, devoured, erased.
His eyes went back to Titanironia.
If such visions appeared here, it meant one thing.
She was finished.
"…Why are you looking at me like that?" she asked, catching his gaze.
"Nothing," Sora shook his head. Let her pass in peace.
He had no right to speak at her end—not as the one who had sent her here.
"Hmph." She gave a short laugh.
But from his eyes, from his clumsy silence, she understood.
What a fool. A big, open-hearted fool.
"…What kind of world breeds someone like you?"
Surely a world of peace.
Otherwise, a fool like this would have been devoured long ago, not even bones left.
Peace…
The word tasted so far away.
Her life—made in chaos, lived in lies, destruction, and slaughter.
Peace was her antithesis.
But that did not mean she did not long for it.
If anything, she desired it more.
Too bad she would never see it.
Her sorrow lasted only a breath.
She had tried. She had fought for her dream.
That alone, perhaps, was the only meaning left for a defeated one like her.
And then—she laughed.
For the first time.
She did not know why. Perhaps just because of something this fool had said.
"…Why are you laughing?" Sora asked.
"I laugh at the cruelty of the cosmos. And at your stupidity."
He froze, then realized—she was mocking him.
"You—you're one to talk!"
He leaned toward her. "You call me stupid? You're no better! My IQ isn't that low, I'll have you know. I even had a chance to join the Genius Society!"
(When exactly that "chance" would arrive was… another question. But Sora would insist: when it came, he'd show them godlike talent.)
He still had cards left to play. She, already defeated, had none.
"…It's your intelligence that's the problem," Titanironia said, smiling faintly.
Sora was about to snap back—when he felt something enter his body.
He looked down.
Her hand was buried in his abdomen.
"…Eh?"
He stared.
But there was no pain. No sensation at all.
It was like her hand had simply clipped through him—like they existed on different layers.
Her body was growing more translucent, as if she would vanish at any moment.
But he felt it—a power flooding him.
His cells linking anew.
It was like meeting a long-lost companion again.
In an instant, his body was restored.
His fatigue cleared, his wounds knitted closed.
"…What are you—?" He looked up, bewildered.
But she only smiled.
"Enough, fool. Get out of here."
The words were harsh, but the smile was not.
"…Hah?"
Before he could react, she lashed out—a kick to his chest.
Sora crossed his arms instinctively, taking the blow.
And then—she shrank away, her figure dwindling as he was hurled from the place between Paths.
"…That was repayment," she said quietly, lowering her leg.
Repayment—for his final [Rider Kick].
If not, why else send him flying with her foot?
The place grew silent.
Light and nebulae, vast silhouettes of AEONS watching still.
But quiet.
"…I hope this universe's fools find some luck. Maybe even love."
Her voice trailed off, fading to nothing.
Her body unraveled into particles, drifting beside the shattered-shell god.
In the end, the lonely one returned to another lonely one.
But she smiled as she faded.
Perhaps, at the very last, even loneliness had shifted slightly.
Because she had met a fool. Not quite a friend. Perhaps an enemy. But one who had changed her path, if only a little.
And the graveyard returned to silence.
Nebulae flowed, light shimmered, statuesque figures loomed.
Lifelike, but only husks.
A graveyard of AEONS.
Where silence ruled forever.
Unless—
"Fufufufufu!"
Mad laughter split the void.
"Aha's here to work!"
The mask appeared, grinning, without fear before the tomb of gods.
"So curious—what will Aha look like here? That'll be so fun."
"But now Aha's a wage slave. Aha has to work."
He darted in, snatching something from the shadow Titanironia had just left behind.
...
Sora opened his eyes.
Stars glittered above—
No. Not stars. Space.
The void itself.
He sat up—realizing he was inside a medical pod.
And beyond the glass—
A planet burned with white flame.
Above it, half a god's corpse still floated, visible even to the naked eye.
"Sora, you're awake?"
The Iron Cavalry rushed to him.
But he only whispered:
"…Let me look a while."
That sharp-tongued woman.
That stubborn, contradictory woman.
At the end, in this world, she had given her last moment.
"…May you be cared for with love."