The scene shifted back to Otto.
He stood alone inside the church and watched the world beyond the golden veil with an odd, soft smile.
"Heh." He let out a small laugh as he watched Kiana's conflicted face. "Yes… this is perfect."
"Come stop me then—Durandal, Kiana, Theresa. Consider this your farewell performance for me."
Those words carried two meanings at once: a farewell from the Valkyries, and a farewell for Otto himself. Given everything Otto had done and the tone he used, the latter felt heartbreakingly plausible.
Players across channels exhaled in tangled confusion. Otto really seemed like he meant to die. And yet he'd spoken of remaking the world. The contradiction only made their hearts ache.
Back outside the church, Kiana wrestled with the golden screen.
Her Herrscher power had been leeched away—she could not brute-force the barrier. Every attempt to cross brought a creeping, bone-deep chill. The veil was dangerous—extremely dangerous.
"Kiana!" a breathy, slightly goofy voice called.
She turned. Bronya had arrived—along with Seele and the Arlan sisters. The sight of reinforcements sent the chat into a frenzy; the Valkyries were gathering.
"Kiana, are you alright?" Bronya asked.
"I'm fine," Kiana shook her head, "but during the battle the veil appeared and cut me off from Otto. He's on the other side now."
Before Bronya could reply, Rosalia and Lilia staggered as a sudden drowsiness washed over them.
"What—why am I so sleepy?" Rosalia muttered.
Bronya's eyes narrowed. "The closer they get to that veil, the heavier their limbs. It's like when an entity takes a Valkyrie's power—similar, yet different."
Theresa's comm linked in. Kiana explained the whole situation.
"In short: the veil isolates us from the church. The Black Abyss White Bloom lies within. Durandal's whereabouts are unknown. The veil drains and suppresses Herrscher abilities."
Over the Archangel, Theresa and the scientists watched the church through monitors. Einstein and the rest analyzed the phenomenon.
"All evidence indicates this is the manifestation of the Constraint Herrscher's power," Einstein concluded.
"Constraint?" Bronya and Kiana exchanged stunned looks.
Einstein emphasized the nuance. "We're not detecting a new Herrscher core. This looks like a Constraint-type effect—originating from Imaginary Tree influence rather than a freshly spawned core."
Theresa frowned. "Even so, Otto alone couldn't produce a field this broad if he only simulated Judas' Oath. Combine his words with the Imaginary Tree and… that explains the scope."
The Valkyries needed to tear the veil down and capture Otto. For the moment, they fell back to regroup while Theresa and the scientists schemed on the Archangel.
Enter Classic Red-pony-tail: Tesla exploded with indignation. "That bastard! If you've got guts, come meet me face-to-face! Hiding in the church—what a coward!"
Her rant made the chat laugh. Tesla's anger had a cute charm all its own.
Einstein and the team devised a blunt solution: Constraint suppresses all Honkai energy. Herrscher powers won't bite, Herrscher weapons won't pierce. The only practical approach was brute force—the Archangel's Moonlight Throne array needed to blow a hole in the seal.
They fired. The veil buckled—then healed itself in an instant. But they had gleaned the threshold: exceed a certain power density and the screen could be ruptured.
There was just one problem: one Moonlight Throne's firepower wasn't enough.
Bronya stepped forward. She would overdraw her own Stigmata of Reason and lend the Archangel the extra punch—but the risk was massive. Theresa and the others protested; Bronya smiled that little defenseless smile and reassured them.
"You worry too much, director. I know what I'm doing."
Kiana hesitated, then nodded: "Okay. I trust you, Bronya."
Tesla clenched a fist. Einstein spoke solemnly: "Let those of us in Anti-Entropy live up to the Reason Herrscher's creed." The music swelled and the audience went feverish.
On the battlefield, the Valkyries protected Bronya as she synced her consciousness with the core. Charge percentages ticked up—60… 80… 95… With each pulse the load drove deeper into Bronya's mind.
Inside Bronya's soul, the scene shifted: the face of the first Reason Herrscher—the hero who defended New York, Walter Joyce—appeared. Thoughts of three hundred thousand lives rose like an ocean. A chorus of voices washed through her head.
"She is a warrior against the Honkai."
"She is so young."
"Her will is resolute."
"She is worthy of being the next Reason Herrscher."
"We must help her."
Thirty hundred thousand minds poured into Bronya: fear, determination, memory. The transfer was brutal. Her body trembled; the psychic pressure threatened to crack her.
"Begin the psychic sync!" Theresa called.
Fragments of souls and countless intentions flowed into Bronya. The background theme swelled into a triumphant, soaring anthem—viewers shouted in the chat as nostalgia and adrenaline collided.
Bronya gritted her teeth through the pain. In the cramped theater of her mind, she accepted the torrent. If failure meant madness, she would still stand.
Slowly, the Moonlight Throne construct stabilized—six cannon mouths assembled into the sky.
"Fire," Bronya breathed.
The Archangel poured its final surge. Six massive beams converged on the veil.
BOOM—
The world shuddered. The golden curtain split apart and shattered into a thousand motes.
The chat erupted.
"Ho—OOOOO—!"
"Quack's moment! Quack saved the day!"
"All the tears—she's been getting stomped since the beginning and now—finally—she's epic!!"
"Tears… my Duck finally did something incredible!"
Bronya stood in the light, exhausted but unbroken. The Moonlight Thrones' blast had done what raw courage and steel could not: it had pierced constraint, even if only just.
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