The wind, even as it blew through the ruined walls of Aethelburg, was as silent as a whisper. This place, once the proudest city of the Naje people, was now the "City of Silence." Towers had toppled, house roofs had collapsed, but none bore signs of fire or battle. It was as if the city was turning to dust through a natural process of decay after a century-long sleep. The grey sky had settled over these ruins, covering everything like a dead overcoat.
Kael stood atop the highest rubble. He had the body of a young man, but his eyes carried a millennia of weariness. His armor was like a dull midnight blue, swallowing the light. His face was sharp and resolute, yet the fine lines at the corners of his mouth and the furrows on his brow reflected the weight he bore. Below, in the streets once full of life, grey-cloaked figures moved silently like shadows, completing the work of decay.
They call this destruction, he thought. But all I see... is a noise finally silenced. The end of the endless, meaningless struggle between Light and Shadow. This is not an end. It is peace.
He descended. His feet moved soundlessly over the piles of debris. He reached the city center, a wide square that once held a fountain, now filled with cracked stones. Here, a group of Naje captives were being held by the grey cloaks. Fear and anger were on their faces.
And among them was a face that stabbed Kael's heart like a dagger: Master Brom.
The old blacksmith, who had once taught Kael how to make his first sword, given him his first combat lessons. Now, his beard covered in dust, his eyes fixed on Kael with grief and disappointment.
"Kael," the old man's voice roared, tearing through the dead silence of the square. "My boy! This is betrayal! Open your eyes! Do not forget the faith of our ancestors, of the Light Guards! This... this is a devil's work!"
Kael stopped in front of Brom. He felt a pang for the safe harbor of his childhood, but immediately walled it off. "The faith of our ancestors brought us here, Master," he said, his voice low but clear enough to be heard in every corner of the square. "Condemned us to a millennia-long cycle, an endless fight. A war without end, a pain that never ceases. The Void..." he paused, as if to emphasize the sanctity of the word, "...the Void brings an end. A peace."
"It brings nothingness!" Brom shouted, his face red with anger. "It takes our soul, our memories, everything we are!"
"Wrong," Kael replied, his voice now even calmer. He had made this argument to himself countless times. "It only takes the pain. The fear, the regret, the betrayal... It cleanses all the poisons created by Light and Shadow. It makes room for a pure, unblemished beginning."
Their eyes met. The anger in Brom's eyes gave way to a deep, devastating pain. "Then cleanse me too," he whispered. And then, with a desperate cry, he threw his aged body at Kael.
Time seemed to slow down. Kael saw Brom's slow, clumsy attack. He could have avoided the confrontation, pushed him back. But he didn't. This was the final blow to be struck against the old world, his childhood, the chains of emotion. With cold, unshakable certainty, he drew his sword. The steel hissed through the air.
Brom collapsed before Kael. He hadn't killed him—he had only struck his temple with the flat of the blade—but the blow shattered every bond between them. Looking at the old man's unconscious body, he felt a deep, bone-aching void. Feeling this pain only strengthened his faith. This, he thought. This is what we must be rid of. This pain of betrayal. This pain of love. It must all vanish.
"Take them away," he commanded, his voice no longer trembling. The last vestige of human warmth was gone from it. "Prepare them for their rebirth."
As the grey cloaks silently led the captives away, Kael walked towards the darkest part of the city, the once-great temple. When he entered through its door, the air changed. Unlike the decaying silence outside, here there was a vibrating, living darkness.
In the center of the temple hung a vortex without physical form. Pure Void. It did not emit light; rather, it seemed to swallow all light and sound around it. Kael knelt before it. Communication was not through words, but through pure concepts echoing in the deepest recesses of the mind.
You see? came the whisper, like a thought. The agony of emotion... the betrayal of trust... all are games of Light and Shadow. Without them, these do not exist. I am beyond them.
"Is it as you promised me?" Kael asked from his mind. "A true balance? An end to all this pain?"
Balance is not a balance, the answer echoed. Balance is nothingness. A perfect, untainted stillness where all that exists ceases to be. Not a beginning, but an end. And this is the most merciful of all possible ends. You are my chosen vessel, Kael. You see what the others cannot.
Then, an image appeared in his mind. A woman walking on water. Sere. And beside her, a being shining with ancient power. Moaito. Especially the expression on Sere's face at that moment—fearless, pure, determined—vibrated something within Kael.
They... came the Void's voice, with a tone of unease for the first time. They wish to perpetuate the cycle. The old, painful game of Light and Shadow. This 'balance' they speak of is nothing but eternal torture. They are the greatest threat to the peace you bring. You must stop them.
The image faded. Kael stood up. There was a new, sharp purpose in his eyes. The inner void left by stopping Brom had been replaced by a solid duty. He was no longer just a tool passively "purifying" cities. He was an active hunter, a helmet that would hunt the other agents of the cycle.
As he left the City of Silence, he felt the weight of the devastation he left behind on his shoulders.
And Kael, advancing through the darkness, knew that the price of being a savior was to be remembered as a monster. This was a price he was willing to pay for the world's salvation.