Vale's body was sinking, slowly folding toward the crimson surface beneath him, as his gaze clung stubbornly to the chained man towering over him. He had struck with everything he possessed, every shred of strength, every ounce of will, every last thread of defiance. He had even torn himself into Nirvana, a place mortals were never meant to reach, just to amplify that final blow.
And yet… the man had not moved.
Not an inch.
A deep frown carved itself onto Vale's blood-streaked face. His hand trembled as he lifted it, and something shifted, an obsidian shard clattered from his fingers. Only then did he see what it was: a fragment of the chained man's mask.
The upper right quadrant of the obsidian faceplate had shattered like brittle glass, crumbling to dust in Vale's palm. Beneath the broken edge of the mask, exposed for the first time in ages, was pale skin… and a single golden eye burning with the light of divinity.
Before Vale's body could fall too far, the chained man caught him by the arm and lifted him effortlessly, as though Vale weighed nothing at all. Vale's vision blurred. Consciousness slipped like sand between his shaking fingers. But he heard the man's voice, steady, resonant, almost gentle.
"You won."
It was absurd. Impossible. Yet the words struck Vale harder than any blow. A faint smile tugged at his half-conscious lips before fading again as his eyes drifted shut. His body, broken, torn, and missing an arm, finally surrendered to the darkness he'd been holding back.
He deserved rest.
So the chained man granted it.
With surprising care, the man lowered Vale onto the surface of the blood-sea. The crimson liquid held the boy aloft, supporting him as though recognizing his victory.
A short distance away, a white reptilian creature, barely the size of a large dog, came sprinting toward them, claws tapping across the coagulating sea. Its ember-bright eyes burned with worry. Ember reached Vale and lowered its head to his chest, instinctively sensing his state through their bond. Relief flickered in the creature's eyes.
The chained man, meanwhile, stepped away.
He walked a dozen meters or so, then stopped. Slowly, he sank to a seated position, facing the endless horizon where the three great Eidolons were beginning their slow return. With a quiet breath, he touched the broken remains of his mask… and removed it fully.
His true face was revealed, pale, sharp, severe, and beautiful in a way only something not-quite-human could be. He held the shattered mask in both hands, studying its fractured surface with a somber stillness.
And in a low, grieving tone, he whispered:
"I am sorry, Thalia."
Time passed.
The sea rippled quietly as Vale's body began its restoration. His missing arm regrew, the weapon it once held fusing seamlessly with his returning limb. Muscle fibers extended like living threads, weaving themselves together, pulling bone to bone and flesh to flesh until the reconstruction was perfect, almost as if the arm had never been severed.
Minutes later, Vale's eyelids twitched.
Then opened.
He stared upward at the five dark suns hovering above him. Their gazes, if such beings could stare, felt heavy and oppressive, yet somehow familiar.
He pushed himself upright, his legs shaking violently under him. Ember let out a low sound and moved to steady him.
"Ember…? What happened…?" Vale murmured, voice weak and raw.
He rose gradually, his steps uncertain, his body not yet reacquainted with itself. But with each hesitant stride, his stability returned. Ember watched him with concern, eyes flicking to every tremor, every wobble.
Vale circled the empty plane, confusion weighing heavily on his expression, until he froze.
Ahead, seated before the horizon, was a man with countless blades protruding from his back, clad in half-shattered armor.
"There you are…" Vale breathed, a faint smile tugging at his lips.
He stumbled forward, Ember occasionally catching him when his legs failed him. Something inside him still wasn't right, some echo of Nirvana lingering in his nerves, but step by step, his strength returned.
Eventually, Vale reached the man, stopping a respectful meter or two away. His eyes slowly drifted downward to the man's grasp, where the broken mask sat in pieces.
'Did I really…?' Vale wondered, stunned.
Before he could speak, the chained man exhaled softly, still gazing at the horizon.
"You're finally awake?"
His tone said it was not a question.
Vale found himself unable to answer. His voice trembled in his throat and refused to surface. He had never seen the chained man's real face; the experience was jarring, surreal, almost forbidden. For a moment he simply stared.
The man's features were sharp and impossibly defined. His golden eye glowed with an ethereal brilliance, a sun forged into flesh, while his black brow seemed to swallow the light around it. Pale skin contrasted starkly with the darkness of the blades impaled into his back.
It was a face carved by divinity and suffering, beautiful and unforgettable.
Vale had never seen anything like him.
And in that moment, he realized:
Most would call this man divine.
Vale knew better.
He was something far beyond that.
Vale stared for a long moment, studying the chained man with open curiosity he could not quite explain. The man's golden eye reflected the dim glow of the dark suns above, and for a heartbeat Vale felt as if he were looking at someone he had known in another life, someone important. But the memory slipped away the instant he tried to grasp it.
The chained man noticed his stare and, surprisingly, a gentle smile curved across his face.
"Sit."
The single word stunned Vale. He wasn't used to being spoken to so casually, much less kindly, by the being who had tormented him, trained him, and killed him countless times. Still, he obeyed. He lowered himself beside the man and looked out at the horizon, though his eyes drifted more often than not toward the man's bare face.
It wasn't just admiration.
It was recognition without memory.
A familiarity carved into his bones.
After a stretch of silence, Vale cleared his throat. His voice wavered when he spoke.
"I… I'm sorry about your mask."
The chained man turned to him again, offering nothing more than a soft, easy smile. No anger. No frustration. No loss. Just… warmth. It unsettled Vale more than any blade or death he had suffered.
Gathering his courage, Vale asked another question.
"I'm sorry but… do I… know you?"
This time, the reaction was immediate. The man's golden eye widened ever so slightly, and a faint sparkle lit within it, joy, genuine and bright, as if Vale had granted him an impossible gift merely by asking.
His smile grew radiant.
"No," he said quietly, still smiling. "Not at all."
The answer made no sense.
And yet the man looked happier than Vale had ever seen him.
Silence returned, stretching comfortably between them. Vale's gaze wandered, and confusion grew in his chest. The Eidolons were nowhere to be seen. Ember was curled beside him, watching him intently, but everything else…
The books Vale had read, gone.
The battlefield, reset.
The changes shaped by his training, gone.
Everything had reverted to an earlier state, as though time itself had been rewound.
Even worse, Vale's memories of this realm began slipping. Not fading… hiding, as if something in his mind was locking them away before he could protest.
A cold shiver crept down his spine.
"What's happening to my mind…?" Vale whispered.
The chained man looked at him again, voice low and calm.
"It's natural. Your training has ended. This place will no longer exist for you once you leave."
He rose to his feet, armor clinking softly, blades refracting crimson light.
"I suppose I should send you off now."
Vale blinked at him, shocked. The moments he had spent here, agonizing, endless and terrifying, had somehow become the fastest he had ever lived. He wasn't ready for them to end.
Still, with Ember's help, he pushed himself up and walked toward the man. The chained man had already extended a hand.
Vale's expression darkened slightly.
"If I… shake your hand… I leave this place?"
The man scratched his cheek awkwardly and gave a crooked smile.
"Well… yeah."
Vale lowered his gaze. Despite all the suffering, despite all the death, despite everything, these memories weren't something he wanted erased. Yet this was the purpose he had fought for. He had earned his way back to the real world.
Still… his heart clenched with questions.
Two, in particular, refused to stay quiet.
He looked up into the man's eye.
"Who… are you?"
The chained man blinked, startled by the simplicity of the question. Then, slowly, a genuine smile, soft and warm, spread across his face.
"My name is Kealix. It's been nice to meet you, Vale."
Vale normally would have unleashed a storm of questions. But something inside him urged restraint, respect, perhaps, or intuition. So instead, he grasped Kealix's hand firmly and asked the final question burning in his chest.
"Then… what are you?"
Kealix's smile widened. Not mockingly, not tragically, but with honest, unfiltered sincerity.
"I am a mistake. That's all."
Vale's eyes widened, but before he could say anything else, the world swallowed him. His body faded from the realm entirely, leaving no trace behind.
Only Kealix remained.
A single tear slipped down his pale cheek as the blades embedded in his back twisted, reshaped, and reformed into countless chains, pulling him upward, binding him once more to the pale, endless sky. The darkness reclaimed its prisoner.
But before the silence returned, Kealix murmured one last breath to the empty world:
"I can't believe it, Thalia… I've truly found him again."
And then the chains tightened.
And Kealix fell silent.
Sealed once more in his eternal prison.