Luna's POV
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Elsewhere
The clash with the Chimera had turned the forest into a battlefield of fire and ruin. Trees smoldered, branches bowed beneath tongues of flame, ash drifting like black snowflakes through the choking air. The sun hung indifferent above, its brilliance swallowed by the inferno below.
The monster's serpent-tail lashed with lethal precision, striking toward the girls' blind spot. Its leonine head bellowed, vomiting a cone of fire that swept across the clearing. The ground sizzled beneath its fury.
"I'll open the act. You close it," Alpha said, hands tightening around the claymore's hilt. Sweat traced crooked lines down her soot-streaked face, stinging her eyes, but her stance held — defiant, unyielding.
Slash. Her blade whistled through smoke, striking the goat's head — only for the beast's paw, massive and merciless, to swat her aside like a ragdoll. The earth shook where she hit, a dull thud lost in the crackle of fire.
"Anytime you're ready," she hissed through clenched teeth, rolling upright as another surge of fire scorched the dirt. Breaths came ragged, lungs sharp as broken glass. Even so, she darted back into the fray, circling the beast, eyes locked on the thrashing tail.
Slash. Her blade struck true, blood spraying in a scarlet arc. Victory's taste soured — the Chimera's claw raked her torso, carving a savage wound, staggering her.
"Ahhh!" Her cry was raw, guttural, swallowed by the roar of flames.
"Shit. I don't know spells," Omega muttered, panic coiling like a snake in her chest. Knees buckled, hands pressing as though sheer will could hold her upright. Sweat matted her hair, poured down her face, blurring vision.
Then — something else seized her. Words left her lips, but not her own. They carried the weight of judgment, alien and eternal:
I have seen your origin. I have borne witness to your voyage. Like a star that must burn out, so must a life. End.
סוף (Sof)
The world recoiled. Leaves froze mid-drift, flames shrank to meek embers. The Chimera… ceased. No shriek, no struggle — only absence. Its body slumped, steaming and motionless, an ending the world itself accepted.
Omega stumbled toward Alpha. Her comrade lay sprawled on scorched grass, lips pale, body trembling in shallow gasps. Blood soaked the soil, seeping into roots and blades, staining them crimson.
"That looks… alarming," Omega murmured, kneeling beside her. Breath unsteady, expression still like a pond at dusk. "I'll get Mésos. She can—"
"She won't make it." Alpha's voice was thin, ragged, faintly smiling. "You should know an end when you see one. Mortals… so fragile."
Coughing, body jerking, froth of blood at her lips.
"Do you think Luna will be alright?" she whispered. "She's had such a rough beginning…"
Omega's gaze lingered on her, face drained. "I cannot see her culmination — nor her end. But she will endure."
Alpha chuckled weakly. Sound dissolved into another cough. "Interesting… almost makes me understand Corruption. Huh. I've been meaning to ask — what's your reality's devil like?"
"Static," Omega said, unreadable. "The fiend of incompleteness. Always forcing the play to continue, no matter how tattered the act. Forever demanding the game stretch on."
Alpha's eyes half-closed, dimming. "…Do you think the Axon will be alright?"
"I cannot see much — not even her end. She will endure. She is with Luna. Or Luna is with her. Perhaps they blur the line of self," Omega whispered.
"…Death is a first experience," Alpha murmured, faint smile lingering. "…Or is this just dying?" Her gaze drifted, voice faltering. "See you."
Her eyes glazed, chest stilled. She was gone.
Omega sat in silence, fire crackling faintly. Trembling fingers closed Alpha's eyes. She leaned back against a charred trunk, strength ebbing.
"Huh," she whispered into the smoke. "So this is what it means for a journey to break — an incomplete path that almost feels… good." Eyes closed, heavy with exhaustion.
A figure lingered among the trees, hidden yet unmistakable. Dark green motley, mismatched patterns; a fox mask frozen in a grin. Balanced effortlessly on a half-burned oak, swaying gently — the chaos below a lullaby. Smoke and wildflowers mingled in the air, sweet and acrid.
Softly, almost childlike, it sang:
Hoppe, Hoppe, Reiter,
Wenn er fällt, dann schreit er.
Fällt er in den Graben,
Fressen ihn die Raben.
Fällt er in den Sumpf,
Macht der Reiter plumps!
Silence followed. Head tilted, listening to ruins below. None answered.
"Well," it said at last, voice sing-song, airy, "we should head back."
It leapt lightly from the branch, landing without sound. "Quite the entertainment," it said, gloved hands smoothing folds of motley, mask catching dying light in a perpetual grin.