Chapter Text
The staircase seemed infinite.
It spiraled upward through a vast and silent expanse, a place where no mortal ever dwelled, but the knight persisted. Each step felt like she was suspended deeper into a void, one that shimmered with broken constellations and the fractured glass of time itself. The very heart of creation.
Could she really do this?
The air around her seemed heavy, pressing faintly against her battered form as though the very nature of this place resisted her ascent, and yet she pursued the climb. There was nothing else to lose or nothing else to fight for but the sole purpose of her selfish desire.
Her armor, once pristine and worthy of a noble knight of Great Exardia, now clung to her in a ruin of dents and cracks, a mere shell of what it once represented before the end. Thick layers of stained blood soaked her plates and gauntlets, while the strands of her long, scarlet hair stuck to her face, tangled and damp from the journey.
At the center of her chest, a small blue flame flickered weakly, its glow trembling with each uneven breath as though it struggled to endure the same unbearable weight pressing against her heart.
Because in her arms lay the reason she had not yet fallen.
The maiden’s body rested against her with a stillness that defied the chaos of their journey, her long black hair spilling over the knight’s arms like a curtain. Two uneven horns curved from her scalp, unmistakable in their beauty and marking her as something beyond human.
Something now lost.
There was no warmth left in her, no breath or beating heart...only a silence so devastating it seemed to swallow even the distant hum of the void surrounding them. The knight held her closer with every step, her grip tightening not from strength but from the refusal of letting her go.
Not now. Not after everything.
“Just a little further!” A voice cut gently through the stillness, and the knight forced her gaze upward to the only companion offering her a second chance amid this misery.
Ahead of her, the Nephilim drifted along the staircase, her long pink hair flowing softly down her back in a mesmerizing pattern of waves. Like the maiden, horns also protruded from her head but a circular halo accented them—a blend of something holy and corrupt, but nonetheless a beacon of hope.
When she turned, her expression carried a calmness that almost felt out of place in the suffering.
“You’re almost there,” Irys encouraged, “Salvation is waiting at the top. I promise.”
The words lingered in the air between them, the concept of salvation somehow weighted in a vow the knight believed in. Her fingers tightened slightly against the maiden’s lifeless form as she dragged herself up another step, her boots scraping weakly against the marble surface.
Every movement sent splintering pain through her body, the blue flame flickering more faintly, threatening to wither from the biting aches surging through her. She did not know what waited at the top, nor whether such a thing as salvation could truly exist in this narrative, but the Nephilim was insistent.
And trying was better than succumbing to the end.
“Right…almost there,” she managed at last, her voice barely holding together as it slipped into the vastness around her.
Whether she spoke to Irys, to the void, or to the one she carried…she did not know. But she continued upward through the unraveling fabric of time and space, her dim flame flickering against the encroaching dark until she had reached the top.
“Irys…why have you dragged a mortal into our Council?”
The tension in the chamber tightened the moment the Warden of Time stepped forward, her gaze fixed sharply upon Irys and on the knight that followed shortly behind. Cold, blue eyes peered down in suspicion, time almost slowing from her assessment as she waited for the Nephilim to answer.
Irys did not avert her eyes, nor did she soften beneath the weight of the blue-haired woman’s scrutiny. Instead, she stepped forward with a certain level of determination beaming from her features.
“Kronii…this a knight of Great Exardia,” Irys began carefully, her voice clear despite the strain woven throughout the room, “she may know the solution to the Corruption.”
Kronii’s expression did not change immediately, but something sharpened behind her eyes, something bordering on doubt.
“Hope does not save everything, Irys. Not when everything we know is collapsing in on itself. What makes her so special?”
That single statement seemed to fracture something nearby, and it was only then did the knight realize there were others in the room.
“Can she?”
Another woman sharply lifted her head, platinum blonde pigtails swaying at her sides as she glanced over at Kronii. The knight recognized these entities from mortal beliefs. She was Sana, the Speaker of Space.
Beside her was another woman, one confined into a bed and with a shaky breath that trampled in the air. Her pale flesh was corroded in dark, purple crystals and slivering veins of darkness, leeching her of her color and rendering her immobile. The long, green hair that rippled from her head almost seemed brittle, like the very fate of Nature was crumbling from existence.
Fauna…the Keeper of Nature.
Sana’s hands loosened their desperate grip on Fauna, her gaze flickering between Irys and the knight beyond her.
“Can she actually save FauFau and Mumei?”
With her tone laced in desperation, the names echoed throughout the open chamber, and it was enough to draw Bae’s attention away from the cage she patrolled. Her restless pacing halted, rat ears twitching slightly as she turned and took in the knight’s crumbling form and the maiden in her arms. For once Chaos did not interrupt, but she simply observed the situation and strolled over to join the others.
And from that cage hissed a figure concealed in the shadows, the Guardian of Civilization’s form completely corrupted in the evil that was devouring Fauna. Her claws hooked around the cage’s bars, her hollowed eyes peering at the knight with a look of hunger.
Slowly, the Council gathered.
They formed before the broken knight, their presence filling the fractured space with something vast and infinite, a true testimony of the gods the mortals prayed to. Above them, the cosmos itself seemed to churn as the constellations twisted into complex distortions, and at the center of it all stood Kronii. Her blue eyes gleamed faintly beneath the shifting heavens, their glow no longer merely composed but edged with something far more dangerous.
“Speak,” she ordered. The command was not raised, yet it shook the ground all the same.
The knight’s arms tightened instinctively around the maiden she carried, pulling her closer as though shielding her from the gaze of gods. Her strength had all but abandoned her now, yet she forced herself to kneel, her body trembling under the strain as her head dipped deeply in reverence.
Or perhaps in desperation.
“I am Elizabeth Rose Bloodflame,” she began shakily, her voice rough from battle, “and I am a knight of Great Exardia…the Harbinger of Order, and the leader of Justice.”
The titles felt like distant echoes of a self she could barely still embody, but she pressed forward regardless, because they were all she had left to offer.
“And I have humbly come here because…” Her breath faltered briefly, her grip shaking around the maiden. “She is the one who can save everything.”
There was no hesitation in that truth nor an attempt to temper it into something noble.
“Her voice…it is the key to destroying the Corruption.”
A quiet scoff broke into the air.
“And how do you propose that to be possible?” Kronii challenged, her tone threaded with skepticism that bordered on disdain. “What does she have that can save the realm? Save the gods, even?”
Elizabeth’s eyes wavered to the woman in her arms.
“She is a Ravencroft. The Demon of Sound,” she admitted. “They had tracked her down from the start, knowing the power of her voice was the only thing that could soothe the Corruption. But if I were stronger…she wouldn’t have—she wouldn’t…”
Her grip fastened around the raven’s hold, a choked sob threatening to echo from the pit of her throat. But she held it back, teeth gritting sharply from the attempt at concealing the pain. Even before the Council of Creation, she could not solely push this narrative.
No.
There was so much more straining in her chest, a level of devastation she had never felt before in all her years of being a knight. Though her job resembled her desire to save the world, her heart only emulated one single wish.
“No…” she shook her head slowly, the true realization settling heavily into her core and stripping away whatever illusion of heroism she might have believed in.
She did not climb the stairs of the universe for the fate of the world…but for the one thing she could not live without.
“Truthfully, I am not here for your world or for the gods,” she continued, voice steadying as she slowly rose to her feet. “I am here for my own selfish desire. For Nerissa.”
The name fell into the space between them and Liz maintained her stern gaze.
“The Reaper took her after the Corruption consumed her entirely. And I failed to save her. Her voice truly does hold the key to salvation, but I would be lying if I did not confess the real desires of my intentions…”
Elizabeth’s voice trembled now.
“You are the Warden of Time…if you could reverse the time—if you could bring her back before the Corruption took her—then she can stop it. She can save them…all of them.”
Her head glanced at the two members suffering in the distance, one confined to a bed and the other trapped in a cage.
“And I could be at peace knowing I was able to save her, too.”
Kronii assessed her in silence for a long moment, her expression unreadable though the faint glow in her eyes had dimmed into something colder. She crossed her arms over her chest, glancing between Irys and Elizabeth, and finding the entire confession perplexing.
“You dare enter the realm of the gods amid the collapse of the world…to beg for the revival of the one you lost?”
Liz looked tenderly down at Nerissa, nodding as if it were the easiest response to give. Kronii scoffed.
“Insanity.”
“Kronini…” Sana now stepped forward, placing a hand on the Warden’s shoulder and looking down at the knight in pity, “She is only being honest with what her heart desires, and that very desire is what pushed her to make the climb and stand before us. She’s covered in blood and bruises…would you not also fight to the ends of the earth for the ones you love, too? For FauFau and Mumei?”
“True,” Bae chimed in from the side, “I’d say it’s a win-win, if her voice can really save us. She’s a Ravencroft, after all.”
“I would not have brought them here if I did not fully believe in them…” Irys added, but Kronii shook her head.
“Reversing time is not so simple, and you all should know that.” she countered coldly. “It is not a trick nor a tool to be used at will. To unwind even a single thread risks unraveling far more than you intend.”
Her gaze lifted slightly to the void beyond them.
“You would invite consequences you cannot comprehend. Distortions…fractures—” she passed a side-glance over at Bae, “—Chaos that would bleed into both time and space. What you ask is not salvation, but a risk.”
“Then it’s a risk we take.”
Sana’s earlier hesitation was now replaced by something firmer, something born from the quiet desperation she had tried…and failed to contain. Her eyes flashed briefly toward Fauna and then toward the creeping decay that continued to chip away at the cosmos.
“If Nerissa’s voice can save FauFau and Mumei, then we don’t have the luxury of playing it safe.”
Irys inclined her head slightly, speaking with the same unwavering calm she had carried since the beginning. “We must have hope.”
The word returned softer this time, yet no less persistent than before.
Bae exhaled quietly, arms crossing over her chest as she tilted her head at Kronii, slipping her a faint, crooked smirk.
“I mean…everything’s already kind of falling apart, yeah? Might as well gamble on something interesting.”
Kronii sighed. “And what makes you so sure the Demon of Sound can save us? I understand she is a Ravencroft…but must we place the fate of the world in a demon’s hands? Plus, isn’t she weakened without her other horn? Surely, we would be better off with another Ravencroft. Perhaps her father or brother.”
Elizabeth swallowed, her thoughts dragging her back through memories she had not allowed herself to linger on. Not until now.
“I have seen what her voice can do. Not just in battle…nor in the way it can command or reshape what listens to it.” Her grip faltered slightly, fingers curling into the fabric at Nerissa’s side. “But what it does to those who hear it. What it does to me. It’s healing.”
Her eyes closed briefly, her brow tightening as though bracing against something internal, something far more difficult to face than any enemy she had fought.
“It reaches deeper than anything else, anything I had ever felt before.”
The memories poured into her mind, every moment shaking her to the core.
“It pushes past fear, past reason…and it makes you feel like you are something. It resonates…with the soul itself. If the Corruption distorts what already exists, then her voice can reach it. It can disrupt evil and return the soul to its original state. And I would know…because she saved me from it too.”
Her fingers gently clasped tighter behind the back of Nerissa’s neck, drawing her closer until their foreheads touched. The coldness of the raven’s skin made Elizabeth shiver.
“If I had been stronger…if I had protected her…if I had stopped it before it took her…” Her breath hitched faintly, and for the first time, the faint tremor in her voice betrayed something closer to guilt than exhaustion. “Then none of this would have happened. The world would not have fallen into ruin.”
Kronii’s gaze remained fixed on Elizabeth, as though dissecting every word and implication.
“Time is rather complicated, and dangerous…especially if you all ask me to alter it on a whim. It is a network of interwoven states. When I ‘rewind,’ I cannot choose a singular, exact moment as you imagine it. I can only return to a point that remains structurally sound…a point that will not collapse under the strain of being revisited.”
Her gaze then fell to the raven.
“You may not arrive when you intend to. It could be earlier—it could be later. You will not have control over that point, and even if I could bring you to such a place…there is a cost.” Her eyes wavered down to the still maiden, a wash of remorse shedding through her features. “Memory is not immune to temporal displacement, knight. The further one is removed from their original position in time, the greater the risk of degradation. Fragments may be lost and details may blur, meaning that entire connections can be completely erased.”
Elizabeth’s eyes widened.
“You could forget why you came,” Kronii stated plainly. “You could even forget her.”
The chamber fell still once more, the weight of that possibility settling far heavier than any physical threat.
“And if the rewind destabilizes beyond tolerance, it will not simply affect you. The fractures will spread through time and space—through the universe as we know it. What you seek to save could be undone in ways far worse than what you see now.”
She let the words resonate fully before finishing, her gaze unrelenting while the rest of the Council stood idle by her side.
“This is not a tool, Elizabeth of Great Exardia. It is not something to be used on desperation alone—or on a whim of hope.”
Irys lowered her head, glancing over at their fallen friends. The Corruption still pulsed through Fauna’s fading form, her tired eyes blinking over at the others while Mumei clawed weakly at the bars of her cage.
Elizabeth fell silent.
The weight of Kronii’s warning surged into her, threading through her already fraying resolve, yet it did not break her. Even if the risks were grand…it was her only choice.
She had to try.
She nodded slowly, the blue flame glowing a tad brighter from her determination, even as it trembled beneath the strain of her battered, worn body.
“Then I accept the risk. I would rather try again, then live knowing I had done nothing to fight against this outcome.”
This injustice.
The words left her with surprising ease and there was no room left for fear.
I just have to believe…
I have to believe…that my heart will remember.
This time, I will save her.
Kronii’s gaze sharpened, the knight's defiance and conviction rendering her speechless. A mere mortal...a human, standing before her and pushing for something so reckless, something that could collapse the very universe they created. But in that shock, Kronii understood the knight's fervor.
She could see her in those red eyes...a glimpse of a certain owl that redefined the Warden's perspective on life. That precious person was now unrecognizable, completely consumed with evil and barred behind a cage. And with that same tenderness the knight harbored toward her raven, Kronii could still hear the Kirin's gentle voice in her ear. Such a pathetic and degrading finality to ones she loved so dearly. When would the others fall, too?
She knew her decision.
“Very well," she finally nodded, "If the Council agrees, then we shall commence.”
To that command, the other three grinned.
A soft presence approached Liz’s side, the Nephilim placing a tender hand on the knight’s back and offering her an encouraging smile.
“You’ve already come further than most ever could. Whatever happens…hold onto that.”
Sana and Bae moved with Kronii, the two preparing themselves for the shift that would fracture all of reality.
“Thank you, Kronini,” Sana whispered next to the Warden, causing the other woman to still from her sudden gratitude.
Kronii’s eyes fell to the marbled floor as she took position.
“Don’t thank me yet, Sana. We don’t even know what will happen to our memories from this. I haven’t rewound time since—”
“Eh, we know.” Bae nodded from her left, her tail swishing behind her like a violent swing. “We all know the risks, but we’ll be here to make sure it all happens smoothly. Fauna and Mumei are gonna be fineeee.”
Sana nodded. “Bae is right! We can all do this. Together.”
Glancing between her two companions, Kronii finally passed them a small smile of her own.
“Alright. Let’s begin.”
In a slow, calculated motion, her hands lifted into the air, an electrifying presence warping around them as she summoned the weapons she wielded. In her palms resided twin blades shaped like the hands of a clock, their surfaces glinting with a cold, beaming light while their edges blurred like sharpened fragments of time itself.
Kronii then stepped forward, the space around her bending in response from the mist rippling behind her heels. The seconds and minutes began to compress and fold inward under her command, a blinding light now impacting the area in sheer power. And they all could hear it—the powerful ticking of a clock pounding in the pit of their chests.
The Warden paused only briefly, her gaze lingering on Elizabeth with a final, measuring acknowledgment.
Then she raised her blades.
Sana moved to stand beside her, her eyes closed and arms outstretched to stabilize space in tandem with the warping of time. Her eyes fluttered open for a moment, glancing between Elizabeth and Nerissa, and the way their presence resembled hope against impossible odds. It motivated her, and she drew a slow breath before steadying herself.
While time and space began to bleed together, Bae exhaled sharply, her posture shifting as she tilted her head and observed the atmosphere. Her eyes narrowed from the sensation—the shift of instability threatening to blend into the mix. The chaos already started to stir at the edges of reality.
“Ooo okay, yeah…that’s…that’s definitely not stable,” she muttered under her breath while her fingers twitched slightly to offer them aid. “This is gonna get messy—but here’s goes nothin!”
The chamber responded almost immediately.
The cosmos above fractured further, constellations dragging into streaks of distorted light as time itself began to unwind under Kronii’s will. The ground beneath them wavered from the layers of realities misaligning and overlapping, causing Elizabeth to adjust her footing. Sound dulled and echoed in her eardrums, the universe struggling to process its own existence from the force of this change.
Slowly, she lowered her head, pressing her forehead gently against Nerissa’s and cradling her as though this moment might be the last she would ever truly remember.
Stay with me, Nerissa.
Her eyes closed tightly, shutting out the chaos, the distortion, and the unraveling of everything around her, until there was nothing left but the quiet stillness between them.
“Stay with me…”
The blue flame at her chest flickered once more, and as time began to tear itself apart, Elizabeth Rose Bloodflame held onto the one thing she could not bear to lose, even when their bodies began to twist and warp.
Then came the memories.
They struck through her mind in flashes of vivid light, the scenes layered atop one another without order or mercy.
She saw the clash of steel beneath a burning sky. The echo of laughter carried on a quiet evening breeze. The warmth of a voice that seemed to resonate not just in her ears, but somewhere deeper in her heart.
Liz saw glimpses of herself, a knight standing beside a figure she knew without needing to see clearly.
Nerissa.
The name pulsed through her, though she could not remember when she had spoken it, or why it felt so heavy. And more moments surged forward.
A tender hand reaching for hers.
A voice singing by her side.
The sound wrapped its way around her chest, around the fragile blue fire burning within her, feeding the flames with a strength that burned brighter than it ever had before.
She remembered how it felt—how she felt—standing in that sound, caught between awe and something far more dangerous…something that made her want to stay there forever.
But the images would not hold.
They began to slip.
Nerissa’s face, once so known, now blurred at the edges. Her voice distorted into something distant and unrecognizable.
Liz reached for it instinctively, though she could not feel her own body or tell if she moved at all.
“No!” Her thoughts screamed in horror from the moments being stripped away.
Nerissa’s silhouette faded into her arms, her features dissolving until there was nothing left to recognize, nothing left to hold onto but the hollow imprint of something that had once been there. Until there was nothing left in sight.
The warmth vanished. The sound fell silent. Even the name ’Nerissa’ no longer held any meaning.
“Ne-rissa…rissa…ner…ris…w-who? Who?”
And then in a final moment, a flash of light filled her senses.
It broke through everything all at once, returning her body to a reality that belonged to her from so long ago. When the ground beneath her felt solid again, she laid there for a moment, her brain struggling to realign itself from the fading terror she just witnessed.
“Liz! Hey—Liz!”
The higher-pitched voice cut cleanly through the haze while an unknown present tugged at her shoulders, forcing her to snap out of the dream from the sudden violent shaking.
“H-huh?!”
The knight’s eyes fluttered open against the pouring sunlight beating down from above, and she could finally make out the endless sea of clouds drifting along the calm skies in the horizon. Everything felt simple. Too simple.
A figure finally bounced into view, blotting out the sun from her energetic silhouette and thrashing tail.
“Finally!” Gigi exclaimed, waving her arms around with exaggerated relief. “You were out like a light. I was about to start smacking you in the face.”
“Huh? Me?” The knight was incredulous. Groaning softly, she dragged a hand over her face and attempted to push herself upright, though her body protested the movement with a strange, lingering heaviness.
What the frig just happened?
With a shaky exhale, she took in her surroundings, noting the familiar buildings of their kingdom accented against the meadow she was lying in.
Did…did I just take a nap?
“I…was resting my eyes,” she muttered quickly, her voice still rough and groggy from the peculiar nightmare.
Gigi snorted, crossing her arms with a grin that bordered on smug.
“Right, sure. Real convincing, coming from the leader of Justice.” She tilted her head slightly, her expression still teasing. “You know the king’s summoning us, right? Like, some real important shit is going down. You probably shouldn’t be napping in a field when that happens.”
“I was not napping!” The knight protested at first until the rest of Gigi’s words finally settled into her head.
Something important?
She blinked at the news, her body forcing itself to her feet once more, but still feeling the weight of something else curling deep within her senses. Something felt…off. Not enough to name, but definitely enough to notice.
“R-right,” she nodded instantly. “My apologies. I’m up. Let’s go.”
But as she moved, the feeling only deepened.
Her head throbbed faintly, a dull ache pressing behind her eyes while her limbs felt heavier than they should have, especially if she were only lying in the grass. She frowned slightly, her brow knitting as she flexed her fingers and tried to shake off this weird, sluggish sensation.
That’s…weird.
She couldn’t remember training. Or fighting. Or anything that would leave her like this.
Just…tired?
As she stepped forward to follow Gigi, her hand rose almost instinctively to her chest, fingers pressing lightly against the place where her flame burned. It flickered unsteadily, a sharp pulse of heat catching her off guard and making her heart tremble.
Liz paused again, unnoticed by the chatty gremlin rambling ahead of her.
The sensation wasn’t right.
It wasn’t just exhaustion.
It hurt.
“What the frig…” she murmured under her breath, clasping her fingers against her chest like something was about to burst open, and Gigi glanced back at her.
“You good, Liz?”
The knight hesitated only a moment before straightening her posture.
“Y-yeah. All good here.”
Gigi eyed her for half a second longer, her gaze narrowing until she shrugged and turned on her heels.
“Alright, well don’t fall asleep again on the way there. I am not carrying you.”
“I was not sleeping!” Liz huffed faintly, falling into step behind her and trying to ignore the unknown hurt throbbing in her chest.
The knight did not know where it came from, but the hollowness was persistent. It was as though something important had been torn away…and whatever remained of it refused to let her forget that it had once existed at all.
Her flame would not allow it.