~ Story created through the astonishing Nasuverse and Soulsborne lore ~

Aspect about Forked Road:

*This story will portray more ambiguous and faulty characters intentionally, in order to humanize them further. The events will bare long term consequences and results conforming to the made choices along it's path.

*As the story will progress, you, the reader, will be too presented with choices ( these choices will be announced and clarified from the others at the end of a chapter ) that will shape the result with the outcome of this narrative line.

*More specifically: these selections will hinge on ethics; and moving through dilemmas.

*Should the choices ( dictated by the majority ) conclude with a bad end at the story's catharsis, once their course will be fulfilled: A restart of the story before the first selection will be posted as a separate one, following the other branch of possibilities. Choices, once more, dictated by you!

With this fact addressed, please enjoy! And should you have an opinion or question/s, then I fully encourage you to send them my way!

~ I, shall illuminate the truth ~

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~/~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

The most treasured lessons; the very ones passed down through word of mouth or written; the very ones that we bear to our grave, stem from the past. As the great roots of a millennial archtree, they nurture and raise our awing crown of accomplishments, towards immortal bodies, as the sun itself. All the worth in those lessons, made possible through mistake, trial, effort, understanding and punishment is passed down so as to avert the very same misfortunes that birthed them.

This principle: of bequeathing generations with memories, memories and experiences of all known, to further bolster their person, is the quintessence of humanity. A newborn, grown deprived of this gift would irrevocably attain nothing more than what any animal could, shaming the marvel of life by wasting it.

Exactly so great, is this act of imparting, that it granted us history; it discovered us reason; it created us purpose; it granted our very selves. Undoubtedly we depend upon them. Make no mistake in listening to whatever inane audacity would dare crawl its way through vain mouths, and give no heed to false claims of fulfillment build on nothing but one's self. Everything 'till now, is reached through every shoulder stacked together through time.

Let this fact not wash away a person's sense of worth, as the course and progress known by one may be written by only its respective accord. One's story is but its own.

Yet while in doing so, never forget why the possibility to do so exists. The past…is the sanctuary of our inspiration.

…..Now…why bring about this matter?

….In truth, hatred and repulsion of realization guide these words. For the sickening regression of things shan't fail to take root, leaving only disgust for the miserable world to come.

Why?!

Simply because the very forces which shaped the universe, our very own perspective, will devolve so horrendously, that only sick scraps will remain to call life!

A constant ebb, between 'good and evil' will burrow deep within the minds of many, tearing the delicate and beautiful painting of our universe as termites do to wood. Fighting over non-existing values, scorning aspects of the very world that made them!

They foolishly will create extremes in which to fall, of black and white, destroying our nuances of gentle and balanced greys. As if praying towards these templates like new deities and forsaking themselves, they'll become incapable to move on, and learn from their wrongs, stuck in never ending twilight, causing misery by losing purpose.

…to be of men… will lose its meaning, so in fear, these words are to be inscribed with hope to avert such destiny. For when fools will take command, they'll banish dark away as if a plague, and force men assume a fleeting form!

Forgetting the lessons from the past, the greatest transgression will be made!

They will bind themselves to paths: predetermining the life of all, besmirching morality and falsely usurping reality. Blindly believing for there to be but two choices for them in this world to follow, is how injustice will be brought to all.

…For there are no paths to constrain you…

Everything will be justified with the motivation of peace… Peace grants men the illusion of life. Shackled by falsehoods, they'll yearn for completion, unaware of its grand deceit. Until, the consequences touch their flesh…Becoming bound in this yoke: a forsaken, and tired cycle.

So you! the one of few or many to have stumbled upon these words in seek for knowledge, satiation of desire or wish of understanding...the one now acknowledged of thruth…

Give us your answer.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~/~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

...

Born in dateless fog; Arcanum of its own

On desolate realm, you began to walk alone,

A frivolous path was walked in fright

To evade calamity and blight;

...

...

Unclear and hollow appeared to be the aim of life,

Waiting for the void to pass in its strife

From where you hid deep in endless dark

Leaving you to bare sequelae of its mark

...

Unbidden flame emerged, splitting cosmos wide

Drawing you towards its meaning to abide

Invoking laws to manifest on Earth and scrolls

Answering stray orisons, bestowing men souls;

...

Thus: mighty, from the mud you rose

Clarity and wisdom exalting thy essence, and chose:

Out of the vague World, domain you fashioned

And in aeternum, thine history impassioned.

...

...

...

But now, after ages passed

Once, primordial glory, grows overcast

Void, beckons nature's cycle justified

Forcing humanity withdraw in dark, to live aside

As the fires of the soul subside

...

Such we're left to walk cold graves that make below

Made in painted ashes of fresh snow

Forgotten in clay, wait for bells to toll

To brave the depths of humanity's soul

…..

Thus…what is there awaiting us?

Beyond the veil of Fog?

Our fear true, for Life to be superfluous?

Or, our desired epilogue?

…..

Umbasa.

Questions and information from an undone seeker of the quondam ages.

A poem of indiscernible origins, stemming from lost nations, eludes the many, was included in the Manuscripts of Aldia. Of course, the only known aspect maintained by this torn, withering treasure was that it once adorned the shelves from the enigmatic Library of Alexandria.

Now…this segment of lyrical text was kept in secrecy, studied extensively along with its accompanying remains by… more selective groups.

No parchment or slab of stone was inscribed with this ancient message. Otherwise the termites of time would have long laid waste to it.

But a most exquisite material, incomparable to inorganic or organic substance, was the one honored by these etchings. It presented no new properties or qualities unseen before. The almost brittle and fragile aged pages could be ruined by a mere wave of wind, against its appearance. It just existed, for this long and no more. Aside this common shared characteristic with matter, it was nothing of the same.

Any form of common material, when compared to the 'pages', could be thought of as the rags of a beggar, in contrast to the most royal and exotic seems of an imperial robe that represented the text's used material.

Thin and long, dens and heavy, as paper in every dimensional aspect. But that was where all similarities ended:

'Pages' of coalescing substance slowly danced in all cardinal directions, though never out of their set borders, gracing the eyes of any beholder with its display:

A spectacle that could be perceived as if viscous oil of gaseous weight trailing ribbons of itself in the air, choreographed in its natural emanating sun-like glow of fire. It was a show worthy of any physicist's curiosity and of any artist's envy, after witnessing such a wonder.

Furthermore, when the two crumpled, torn in places, attached 'pages' were opened:

Inexplicably they reshaped their dimension to that of stone slabs, wide and thick, yet never becoming any heavier. It gave the impression of an overly proportioned tome…one of unnatural composition.

Their blessed surface presented indented strings of fog, translucent and shining as living silver, to form its cryptic language. No matter how you'd observe it, no matter how you'd interpret it, almost none could read it. A predecessor of the Voynich Manuscript was the perfect description.

Yet, 'almost none', implies there are some who relished upon its secrets. But those will be recalled in short.

So how was the segmented poem known?

Luck, perhaps? Or an intended attempt at spreading the contents of the original literal creation?

We wouldn't know, we could only thank for its translations, made from language to language, as they changed and advanced through time until the day the kingdom of Persia would rise. Indeed a blessing to still possess those papyri, though not unbelievable as safe haven was maintained within the two paged tome.

And if this translation existed…then, why no association between words could be formed to unravel its words?

None could understand. Or rather, none of the select few who were graced glance of the scrolls before its age old holders did.

One look…one look was all it took: As dread…apprehension….paralysis…depression….hope….indifference and finally acceptance, were the divine air that served as right of passage to attain the crystalized information. It drove a lot insane…thus not many desired to study it while tending to the scrolls.

And rightfully so, when the last scholar who entertained this decision resulted in tragic failure before his colleagues, masters and students. Now…with great effort he clings to sanity, as a ferocious and mad hyena would attempt to steel pray from lions, least it died starving. Mumbling lowly and hoarsely about what ever momentarily brought him back from his close to vegetative state in an act of self-comfort.

Words are said to be powerful if used correctly. Indeed they are, events in time can undoubtedly validate. Yet this was not the end result of words alone. For as we know: words are meant to convey experiences, intricately made by many factors. And the greatest way to understand something meant to bare more importance than a message, at least for the majority, was to be experienced in full.

As such, when the contents bestow context to its unfortunate victim, it would reshape reality around them, pulling them through a phenomenon which altered continuity: A vision.

It wasn't vague. It wasn't a scattered puzzle. Nothing akin to poor excuses of a mystery or game made by overly intelligent people of the past in order to pass the time as inane as possible, like everything was a joke. No.

It was a simple lesson, harsh as it was. But a lesson to be understood, valued and used as any other.

There exists no such thing as inherently evil knowledge, as worth and meaning can be only granted through the user's actions. Science, used to explore the world and further humanity brought bountiful sophisticated and evolving means of maiming for example.

And this was no different:

It is a reminder to package all necessities and bear for transition. Ages rise and fall, as tides ebb and overflow.

As day brings light, then dark…as life follows death, and so on.

The impactful nature of this basic principle is encased in the inevitable transition to be suffered by the age of men.

It is no 'warning' from the past about a terrible, evil person with unreal nihilistic intentions, or a great unfair calamity. It was just another step to go through.

Associating the famous Greek riddle made by the sphinx with this subject creates the best example: 'what walks at day on four legs, at midday on two, and at evening on three?'- only the human, as he grows throughout life, approaching his chapters end. And the 'Tome's' meaning was exactly this, presented as however it was to the unlucky researchers.

Perhaps it was this overwhelming when its weight was suddenly brought down with all its implications on the scholars' conscience, and no doubt exaggerated. Perhaps in order to convey its importance all the more. After all, stories of the boggie man exist to serve a good purpose, even if inflated: that of ensuring a child either listens to its parents or takes care of himself.

But enough assumptions!

'What was the painted vision' is the burning question. If what it presented must be of such great revelations to impress minds of the highest splendor as if simple children...than it had to be quite 'intriguing'.

And indeed it is…this depicted stage…so…different from the present, and so familiar for the past. A real muse to draw upon for human eyes.

A beautiful ugliness, that speaks only truth and rightfully portrays Mankind.

How did it work? Complexly, if anything:

…..

An indefeasible course, divinely protected by right of existence, realized from the use of a conceptual curse.

A trick, to use time as its 'canvas', trapping an almost quantum event out of the infinite possibilities. An almost insignificant procedure perfected with selection, determining clear outcome by toying with causality and voiding the 'chaff' to be the perfect 'paint' for this vestige.

That was the theorized functionality however, but what about the painting itself?

_Rare confessions of the last daring scholar that became records in the same library which holds the 'painted scrolls' can satiate this question. The precious moments of sanity, or better classified as consciousness by the now old man detail his 'journeys', as his conditions leads to believe his psyche is deeply afflicted by endless vivid, lucid, dream-like explorations.

Those are his shy, gruff, awed and intrigued words:

"I saw… I saw my good friends:

The sight of a world enveloped by typhoons of white-ember ash, as the sandstorms of desolate vast deserts, scoured the surface of the Earth like mist and wind. It was awfully quite aside the breeze and soft crunch of fertile, rich maroon soil. The ground appeared as uneven and surprising as always.

Over empty plains of land that slowly began to decorate themselves in thin, long small exposed roots of plants, a carpet of beautiful stemless oily white flowers welcomed my vision.

An impeccable image that made my apprehension seem unfounded.

Immensely tall and wide, stout and massive trees pierced the ashen low sky further than my vision could reach. They were few on the close to be hills I walked, appearing to be a forest far away, but it created a breath taking view: Of a low like morning fog sky, seen as only on mountain tops, made of ash, with expansive plains and hills, adorned with these beautiful flowers, crowned by archtrees who seemed to support the very heavens.

I felt like I discovered Atlantis, and patrolled beneath clear and transparent oceans…It was incredible!

The sky began to gain a ferruginous tint in the margins of its shifting low fluffy clouds. I felt so giddy, like a child, that I wondered momentarily if I could touch by using a ladder. Hah-hah-ha! I was so mesmerized!

I walked further, the incredible view presenting itself as the grandest stage of an ancient roman theatre just for me. With the rays of rusty light that warmed spots of soil akin to how rays would enter through stained glass, it was hard to believe its authenticity. But it was real!

After walks through undiscovered paths that passed azure, shining deep untainted lakes who may host mythological life beneath its surface, dotting the horizon, I reached a mountain plateau. Aaaahh…those waters looked so calm! Ah, but yes, returning to my journey, the plateau…right.

It left me stupefied at its sight. The ground that looked as if clothed in needles of pine trees gave way to soft and tender dark brown terrain, sprouting from place to place in a sparse style irregularly shaped great boulders and rocks, as only a mountain could.

After a few short steps I realized how fog seeped from the ground as from the pores of a dragon. The mist didn't feel cold and neither did it feel hot. It didn't feel toxic and neither was it reinvigorating. It felt like simple air.

Objects other than rocks of manmade origin made their presence known through the mist. They were planted upright in the loose ground, standing there…as if memoires for a person each, enduring the test of time.

No object was the same, except for a shared purpose between all: They were all arms of war. A plethora of variation for weapons, ranging from the bronze age to medieval; to renaissance and very few modern ones.

All enduring the test of time in their undeniable glory and undying legend…as if each honoring someone…waiting for their return.

Further steps led me to stumble upon a depression in the mountain's plateau that bared in its center a godly towering hill. It struck me as if I appraised the painting of a ground made Babylon tower surrounded by a wide trench of mist. I correctly assumed to be the very peak that gazed at the sun among the high clouds. I had to observe that sight.

And as I reached the very top… I felt… an overwhelming, inherent urge to cry as I never had, greater than how a whaling newborn is longing in grief for its once perfect sanctuary.

I felt a rush of memories; a rush of information of the past and future.

….I-I understood.

As I gazed at the impossibly dark sun, ringed by a weak and flickering deep ferruginous aura; a mere imprint of its once all-powerful and blazing warm blessing, that stood as witness to all life, in the high heavens of the earth.

And the Earth….Oh, sweet Earth! Kiln of Civilization! Cradle to our existence!

The barren Earth!… Beautiful, beautiful empty and scared ugly Earth that was home! Sweet home!

Intricate edifices of rich history and assiduity stood toppled in the sea of ash like icebergs. Toombs of our ages. Haunted by the sough of dry winds, sung a tragic song; a hart-touching melody. Aaaah, so… enchanting! That song of only white keys…so sorrowful and superb!

…...

I understood. Everything must move on.

Everything must progress. It was no tragedy. It is normality!

But….

But I so desperately wish for it to last longer!

Childish, I know…but sincere are my feelings.

…...

That was what I experienced, there taking everything in…while occasionally peering at the fading glory of an individual resting on the soil with me… looking, standing guard of an incredibly ugly-beautiful miracle.

A vorpal, stout great sword: It looked at some places as if someone took it and attempted to coil it, stood impaled in the earth defiantly against all possible hardship.

It was lit at its end by a divine ethereal golden flame, receding in translucent rusty tongues, liking at the length of the old and abused blade tiredly. That segment of divine steel resisted, there, for something! With its bearer!

Its guardian stood beside it seated on the soft, decorated with delicate white and low flowers, ashen earth, donned in awe-inspiring armor, made by human hand, scared from its undoubtedly many, many labors.

Torn in places, mangled in others, and smoldering at some ends, but imposing as it should be. Telling old tales of the others that came before, long, long from the past in seek of worth. Of purpose!

Faithfully he waited, standing keeper over this receding, tired miracle.

That lonesome guardian. Perhaps a sovereign once; that: …..

That…Confounded quintessence of humanity…..

I believe I know who he was,… and his importance. Enduring of his own accord, perhaps waiting for something, or someone who knows how long…yes…who knows how long?

He waits until it would finally get dark…biding there….like a fool? Or something more?

…...

Aaahh… I'm truly tired my friends, I'd like to rest for a bit now if you'd allow for it?

…..I know well of my own condition, and I feel my wits grow dull now.

…... ...

Thank you.

I'll will myself…. to tell you all more as I can best recall. Mmmh…mmpff.

I'm so tired.'' -

…...

Astonishing!

No, not the description of the vision!

But astonishing…is the man that narrated his experience. You see, now old Partenie, renowned scholar, was a tough, not easy to impress, dedicated individual. An embodiment of focus and harshness when necessary, as Partenie was the very row model of any aspiring hard-working person, through his outstanding contribution in his vast domain of work, unraveling secrets of the cosmos through zealous work.

All of his character…his stone-rigid rigorous demeanor to be waned to but a mellow, lethargic, awestruck wondering man…that was unimaginable! To strip a being of its character, of its very self; a blasphemy, an act of madness worth of hatred until the cease of time!

It presented a problem, one that required immediate attention.

…. …. …. ….. ….. ….

Thus, we find ourselves in the present with the selective factions aware of this problem, discussing and working for solution. Those present more exactly being: The ever secretive Churches – Orthodox and Catholic – , the once mighty and eminent Clock Tower, in a perpetual state of plateau, regressing as time ticks by. And of course, finally, the even worst, once imposing, Wandering Sea, the elder association whom fathered the infancy of the now prevalent ones, is no more than steps away from pitiful.

Continuous days were spent to mold an answer. Yes, perhaps the advent may be absolute. But to persevere through it was no foolishness, what else was there, to do but find a way around it?

They would do it!

It would require substantial effort, even more so with their weak resources.

They could do it!

With every resource and annex of their knowledge:

They would call in time of need for the pillars of mankind to evade theadvent of extinguishment.

And so…in truth: The lords of history made legend, passed in myth would be unearthed from the very Root of All things. The very Source of All information!

For, The World summoned its immortal Noble Lords divine deliverance.

And so…with everything prepared and done beyond doubts, their plan at hope was set in motion.

…..….. .

From the twilight bathed ancient Temple, set in the lands of Olympia, rumbles unsettled the atmosphere. Cumulus dense clouds churned and discharged bolts, weaving storms to swirl the far off Aegean Sea in a black raging maelstrom.

The play was topped by the intense seism, threatening to split the Peninsula, casting it in the dark depths of the abyss.

In the following mortuary silence that was the eye of the storm, from the profound crags made in Zeus's Temple…raising reinvigorated, brought from his eternal deific place, earned above Elysium's Fields: an unmistakable figure breathed deeply. Unclear was his image, but there was no doubt….only one person could ring global recognition as He did, from a mere draw of breath.

This was known throughout the present people at the temple who called Him forth. He, who contested the very Gods, returned on Earth…to fulfill another labor.

…..…...

In the center stage of a marble, astounding made civilization, as the world had never been graced to see before. Around one of its oldest Monuments: the very same that bared the origins of its rising, the very cradle of its people and might.

The ardent blood of its descendants sparked the dormant Aestus to smolder with purpose.

So the preserved city shook its very foundations as if battalions of armies galloped at command to wage war. Cracks appearing on the magnificent and grand monument, of a wolf that breastfed two children gently, assured its witnesses with answer.

Unwavering and stoic, an impossibly tall entity, made as if by bronze answered the call in a final otherworldly phenomenon with stoic seriousness.

…..…..

Burning and unforgiving were the sands of the Arabian deserts, moving and shifting as an ambulant citadel of dunes.

Those not blessed with protection from its gales could not traverse its planes of despair.

Silence as it always was and continue to be, betrayed no clue of its unnatural, unfolding event.

Fervent dunes acted as the womb of its most proficient wanderer; of its most favored child. Silently as he used to live and act, he was returned between the living to exact his code and beliefs once more. His blades and cunning mind called to cull the encroaching occurrence.

Shrouded in mystery as the embodiment of death, He was no hero, but He was no less an Epic Lord, and for the better or for worst, He was an innovator, to be sure, someone who would contribute in this endeavor significantly.

After all….he created the concept of 'assassin', and introduced it to his followers and them to the world.

…..…...

In a country established through war, and bathed in pious conflict, another call would be answered along its brethren. Eerie and haunting was the air from its nature, for His legend dabbled in the profane, in the vile and evil; in the most horrifying demonic imaginations that crawl beyond the veil, peering at us in malevolent silence.

The deplorable remains of David's Temple groaned internally as the brass of instruments would, beckoning in prayer to their Divine selected King.

Wearer of mystic, pagan treasures, allowed only by the deity of his ancestor, Moses, to exist in his Creation, answered.

Lord of the unknown, and rightful ruler of this now deforming country.

~ months prior to present day. London ~

Unrest, silence and expectancy denoted this meeting of factions. In truth, not to different perhaps from a mundane and tense busyness board meeting, established to resolve their downfall. Unfortunately, the stakes in this present gathering were a tad more…inflated.

Of course, only the representatives of the institutions were present at this round table, as this was a coordination and informative assembly.

More specifically: the director of the Clock Tower; the captain of the Wandering Sea; and sadly only one church member, being the Catholic Pontiff – not to be wrongly confused with the public Church, as the ones present, or not, here are…somewhat…less known; they prefer intimacy, to be sure.

In the gloomy expansive chamber, hardly any features or details could be made from each representative. Enigmatic forms, of elusive figures, baring grand titles and authority, required no attention for need of depiction in these moments.

Considering everyone's presence, the value of time and their responsibilities to fulfill, there was no point in waiting, even if it was quite tempting. After all… nobody held good news, and each respected conductor easily determined this. Things…really…weren't working out, were they?

As such the director of the Clock Tower took the initiative with this sorry excuse of a conference; for goodness sakes one of them was missing at that!

" If no statements will be voiced for now, I shall begin… and expect we each impart our information accordingly. This drawn out waiting game doesn't serve us.''

No words, sounds or gestures were used as a means of conceding. Every member's unmoving gaze should have translated that message.

" Very well then.'' Acknowledged the director with its famous composure. " As we are visibly pressed by time, let us make haste. Therefore I shan't mince the news:... The Clock Tower's invoked Lord has resigned our covenant, his noble throne left cold, renders our efforts close to null'', in the past such information would not have passed the director's lips, or any other member's, as travelers wouldn't pass the highest mountain-crests. It was as if begging for defeat from its competition….Now though, times changed enough to force nature in using desperate means to insure survival. Even if it meant to make yourself brother with the Devil to cross the bridge.

And much to the director's anguish, no one seemed to raise their head as if in better condition than their ally. And it could only mean that either each bared fates of the same misfortune or worst.

" This turn of events, left us in identical positions madam'', admitted the Captain of the Wandering Sea with no waste of words, wishing now to end this meeting as soon a s possible. And hopefully decide to scavenge something out of those circumstances.

The atmosphere in the circular, wide and extremely tall chamber, clothed in deep shadows and complete darkness in its upper segments of baroc structure, hardly did anything to soothe anyone's crestfallen bearing.

Usually, the highly detailed and decorated edifice would be bathed in light, even at night, through its incredible means of lighting: fine and frail blankets of mist would buoyantly move as sails in wind, emanating natural and reinvigorating light. Its absence only denoted the urgency of time and abandon at any attempts to dignify the association's grandeur…they had no reason in those times.

Enhanced light from silver candlesticks was the only illumination to show someone occupied this splendid hall of overlaid arches and columns, sculpted in perfect depictions of human figures, down to the hair, whom lifted the ceiling in theatrical flourishes.

" Then we appear to sail in the same direction. I'm ashamed to admit Tower Queen, but our efforts have ended in the same results", were the words of the Pontiff that elucidated their disheartening reality. None seemed to avert this outcome.

" ….Our priority shifts to alleviate this impasse. We may know no fulfillment without cooperation or help from the invoked Lords. Thus we neither can act as sole units anymore as we have up till date. To amount the necessary resources and manpower, we are forced to cooperate for each problem, one by one. Even if we will suffer from slow progression in this endeavor", decided the director. Her choice uncontested as it was a necessity of which all present were keenly aware.

" Moving on. Captain, I ask not for clarification, but for details in your side mission to regulate the scientific progress of the world at large in a desirable direction. What will be now of it, and will this interference last?", continued the director to advance their agenda without a show of hesitation, despite their fresh state of setback, as it should be expected from the Queen of the Clock Tower.

A curt nod given by the Captain gestured his willingness to particularize his actions.

" We've made use of our public 'business' accounts to support with substantial funds the reboot and continuation of the nuclear physics research facility: the Cern organization .By doing this and leading new and aspiring researchers towards it, we can continue backing it as the pivotal research pioneer it used to be and refocus global attention to actual importance. As of now they already resumed their documentation on Higgs Bosons and strange matter."

Explained the Wandering Sea's representative, making no attempt at subduing his bias. It was to be expected, if the stupidity of the major public and scientific organizations were to consider. The only thing on their mind nowadays was 'hero industry! hero industry! and so on…', it tested his belief in people at a small scale, succeeding in teasing out more bitter presumptions.

" However, that wouldn't be enough, as to many, and by now prominent, 'hero developing studios' have taken root and garner more than half of governmental attention across the globe. South Africa for example, we've lost them completely to it, and it's a shame to, their abilities and resources were one of the best for years in row on an international level", lamented the Captain for a moment in his listing, each motivation of his decisions seemed to add more white hairs and wrinkles to his encumbered visage.

" And because of this, we had to wear out a dominant world-wide figure of renown for developing 'hero items' that could create the halt in its advancement, and redirected attention towards Cern's rebirth and new generations."

To do such a thing as maiming the reputation of a hard working person was something any of the present leaders would do in a heartbeat…if it was for the greater good that is. They were no malevolent monsters that would knead their filthy claws in ambitions of 'world domination / destruction / world order, or whatever stereotypical evil people would desire….but they would do the unspeakable if it was for the betterment of the many.

Cruel, but very real, and done many times in the past to protect or flourish nations and treasured people/purposes…wars after all were fought to either defend or expand towards thriving, indifferent of motivation…ultimately all in the name of good, subjectively of course – but isn't that our precious treasure? Now, the modern world only choses to hide its skeletons as deep as possible in the ground; as deep as the bodies of its past rulers are now buried.

And to sabotage the life of one in exchange for the many, present and future many, was the bargain of a lifetime, undue as it seemed.

" And so I imparted a good number of my associations researchers, and authorized some enforcers to spy for exploits in a list of candidates for who could meet our ends. It resulted to be David Shield. His plans of employing fake villains to spread chaos and gain permission to continue his project was the niche we were looking for", motivated the Captain each step he took in order to ensure success, even if it bared somewhat of a bitter aftertaste for committing it.

" As to how we did it…it was truthfully an easy task. We reached towards some 'villains'….or whatever they call themselves, and presented ourselves, as a more renowned organized crime leader to gain their services. And considering their incapacity, as any other uninitiated person's, to differentiate the nature of our methods, a little trick of the mind was enough."

" From here on out I'm certain everyone present knows the results. No information was leaked, so the truth remains kept. David Shield was decided to be judged, leaving behind his spot empty in his profession. And even if his daughter, Melissa Shield is to fill that void, it would happen long after Cern is brought back in full, thus we've moved the tracks of the 'train' enough to favor the development of the world's future, even if momentarily", ended the Captain as he began his briefing: a neutral face and dispassionate tone.

" I believe that would be all madam", this statement was used to also notify his preference to end this meeting sooner if possible.

" Very well then, and thank you Captain, your efforts and the Wandering Sea's were invaluable to us. However before we are to end this assembly, I am to inform you that I've appointed the Clock Tower's personnel to follow and keep in touch with the summoned Epic Souls, as well as already begin seeking new solutions in persuading them for cooperation, or discover other options if we can't succeed with them at all", slowly, the dark browned eyes of the director came to rest on the Pontiff in expectancy. A somber silence lasted in the tense and crestfallen atmosphere.

" Lady Barthomeloi?..." began the Pontiff, with a somewhat uneasy feeling. Between everyone present there was no doubt, the director of the Clock Tower was a superpower on every level imaginable : having access at the association's research, information, or resources.

And besides, the person who was the director always bordered the existence of a God, even if not an existence such a pantheon's allfather, it was no less far above of a mortal. And despite these difficult times, its effect didn't cull her authority.

It unnerved the Pontiff's thoughts on what the director could know about his association that he didn't, even if there should have been no way for her to manage such a thing.

" May we end this session with some news regarding your efforts in amassing information as well as manpower for our problem?" , the edge used to voice the inquire didn't go by unnoticed. There was no helping it, no matter how it was arranged to be, his steps begged a lot of suspicion.

Distrust was a common illness between all of them, as a 'plus', this tendency being inherent to them all, that's how it was since their very origin: an unwritten rule to follow in order to maximize efficiency and assure secrecy in their work, that it became a conduit and tradition, inscribed in their very self.

Rightly so, as for all those entire grievous and long drawn millennia, this much flowed unperturbed.

….****…., a somewhat heavy exhale came from the Pontiff. He was a spectacular actor, considering this entire time and from the moment this crisis appeared he kept his boiling fear in check. This entire situation poked and prodded at his conscience to use every trick up his and the association's sleeve, even if scornful or disgraceful to achieve their purpose. Fucking Christ, and all abhorrent monstrosities out there…maybe Partenie wasn't his scholar, but he was his greatest confidant and example to follow. He had to do everything in his power to contribute.

He was walking a fine line between vigilance and paranoia. But he had to keep composed if he desired to solve anything.

So…he might as well come clean:

" Yes…Yes…hmm. I spent some time in hopes of finding anything of use from our archives and past members. And I've come across mentions and a few annals that registered capable and qualified individuals, perfectly fit to help this crisis. And from everything enlisted about them, it was the most promising action to research them", began the Church's representative to justify himself, clearly restless from needing to admit this.

" The respective members I've come across didn't bare the title of executioners and neither were they included in the burial agency…but rather they belonged to an older and more impressive, now disbanded, agency. They were entitled as the Spears of the Church: Regularly assigned to deal with impasses comparable in magnitude to ours….Well, not particularly as dire, but with their numbers and added help. It would certainly prove to be an advantage", the Pontiff's voice was laced with hope for the other present members to believe and agree with him.

He was really trying here, even if it may have sounded good on paper, it was something he knew all too well, but even so….he had to try.

" Pontiff…, if you describe a branch of your own faction, that is old enough to be so obscure, even to you until this day…what makes you even dream at the possibility of them being alive to do something? By now the soil itself must have turned their bodies into more soil!", was the Captain's quick and tired question. He was terribly close to just storm off seeing as how now one of the very people put in charge over their dying legacy was starting to see green horses gallop on walls.

'First it was the disaster made by the Yggdmillennia family, God fucking damn them! If it weren't for them this situation perhaps wouldn't even exist, and The WORLD WOULD BE A BETTER PLACE! Without everyone sprouting a limb from their ass, snot ice-cubes or be half a slug, going all crazy with foam at the mouth if possible, about their genes like animals in perpetual rut and idiocy. And now THIS lunatic is going downhill.'

These thoughts were fortunately raging inside only the migraine filled head of the Captain. Now of course he could think of ways that could potentially make the aspirations of the Pontiff become realized, but if he were to hear again of contacting his factions past members, then God forbid, he would sanctify this pope's cadaver right here. It was already a disaster, they didn't need more.

"…." The Church's representative didn't seem moved by this comportment, he expected it after all. He now just had to deliver his reasons.

"…that would indeed be the case. However, you see…they never were registered as dead, just missing, or better said: lost along the Moonlit-World. And as we all can agree without hesitation from either experience, knowledge, or both, this very well can mean they can still be out there….After all they were never identified by any other faction in all this time. And no one just ends up vanishing in a moment without being found eventually", those were considerable reasons, if mainly because the Moonlit-World was unpredictable in any measure.

Ah, no, no, it was no separate world or pocket dimension, it was but a simple denotation of the true nature present in our everyday World, just kept hidden and silent. Well known to them, as everything they and their respective factions did was through the phenomenon and laws of this world. For Hell's sake, it was a common thing for them!

So if by calling upon an Epic Lord was possible…than finding some lost stragglers was just as plausible.

However, just the quick throw in of the Moonlit-World wouldn't solve everything, in fact far from it. It didn't make enough for an argument, enough to raise eyebrows.

" Can you mention those fabled members Pontiff? I myself might know of them", and there it was! He knew something wasn't in order from the moment she fixed him with specific questions. Well, it could be favorable, if miss Barthomeloi knew already, than it could spear him the persuasion.

" Yes of course. I have yet to completely identify every possible member, but the three most prevalent ones were Halflight, Laurence and Ludwig. It is described that at the very least Ludwig never failed to accomplish his missions. Any information we could gather from them could prove invaluable to us", urged the cornered representative.

" To us, or to you?" was the less tactful approach made by the Captain, he never failed to speak his words as they were, even when in important situations. This granted him trust and ire in equal measure from many. And he wasn't about to relent:

" We all, can very well resort to the same means here Pontiff, I'm certain you aren't the only one with archives. But time for research isn't a luxury anymore; besides what more could we need now?! The problem is arrantly known, and our plan just as well. This unnecessary idea won't be a deciding factor!".

" Or are you just intending to take advantage, now that we all panic around like headless chicken?!" expressed the captain all possible suspicions and doubt within his tumultuous, hardly shackled scorn.

" This discussion weighs no importance in this very moment. As I am sure…Pontiff, you intend to seek your answers with or without our support. Something we cannot agree upon. We require every resource we have available, and a cooperation isn't one without common agreement" was the discussion led by the director to simmer the evident eruption of conflict.

" However, Pontiff, if the Captain is to agree with me, you are to freely pursue this, what could be called 'a wild goose chase', as I myself know of these mentioned members and can understand what you imply from their loss in the Moonlit-World. However you are to conduct this search with minimal personnel and support. Otherwise we are achieving nothing here", made the Barthomeloi director clear.

An indignant glare from the Captain, followed by his succinct palm striking the enormous and thick roundtable resounded in the obscure chamber. Yet the director's choice wasn't unfounded:

" While this sounds resentful, we can not assume unnecessary risks between us that threaten our partnership, I myself incline against your suggestion Pontiff. But I have no desire for disunity to befall our cause, so I'm willing to allow your aspiration continuation, if the Captain is to accord".

This….whatever it was… was by no means an alternative to the crisis, it was nothing more than rounding up possible necessities or conveniences in their struggle…if it could even achieve that. Regardless, it was a move made to maintain collaboration between them all.

The representative of the Wandering Sea trembled in bewildered dander for a short second at the early statement made by the director, but after her final words, while still unsatisfied, he could understand the need to throw this coot a bone here. The last thing they needed was indeed disunity. He'd have to agree, and at least the conditions were made to be informed of whatever ensues.

A nod from both the Captain and the Pontiff were enough of a gesture to confirm their agreement, even if somewhat reluctant from the Captain's at seeing the eager response made by the Pontiff.

" Then, with this settled, there are no further subjects to be discussed", another fix with the eyes towards the Church's member from the director made it clear to whom her next words were addressed:

" Fail not to inform us of your progress, wherever it may lead you", and so as they rose from the table they were seated at. Moving towards the exit, final instructions were made by the Clock Tower's Queen on their next move.

" Contact lady Zepter, and announce we require her instructions once more for a summoning."

…. .

….. .

What a quiet and dark room was it now in absence of people…it used to be light here once.

~ in present day ~

_"Everyone round up! ROUND UP! Whoever is capable, help with the injured! Kota stay close.", dazed commands thrown in endeavor through unclear eyes and ringing ears by a wounded, bleeding man.

….As fast as he could…he knew he'd eventually burn out.

_ " It hurts! GAAAH! HAaaHhGhH! Mmmff, help! Please!", a man bleeding from his abdomen cried.

_ " MmMmMFFhhh…I can't move. Please….", a woman, clawing at the mud beneath her cried.

_ " Hhhhaahh-hhaaah…mfff-mff, I-I…I c-ca-can't…..GggaAAaaghh! My eyes! Haaghh!", another man, holding his bleeding face cried.

_ " Someone HELP my mother! Please! She's dying! HEEEEELP! I can't do it alone!", a young girl desperately cried.

_" H-h-he-help!", someone in the dark hoarsely cried.

" Someone give me a hand here! They're trapped beneath the rubble!" "Hang in there mam, you'll make it, medics are on their way!" "Give me something to tighten their leg, she's having a haemorrhage! No! NO! Give me a belt now!"

…..

Cries, and so many of them… It was a sight ripped from the horrors born only in war, nothing else.

It looked as if no matter how much he struggled, he couldn't be everywhere, he couldn't be omnipresent. And they were truly suffering, unlike anything he'd ever seen before. But he was trying his all. It just…. ' COME OOON! Help them already! FASTER!' , thought the green haired man with feverish conscience. The perceptions of his surroundings melting as a candle left on the hot terracotta of a fireplace.

' Illyana is helping as many as possible. She can't do it alone. Please continue.'

" HEEEEELP! Pleaseee…help my mom, PLEASEEE!" begged a young girl, crying in roars and streams of unstopping tears, red in the face for not breathing enough!

Her mother didn't move, and didn't seem injured. Her complexion was awfully pale though. Izuku could see that in the white light produced by Illyana earlier so they could round the people from the guts of night. A quick check of her pulse and falling temperature confirmed she suffered cardiac arrest.

"….huhhmmfff…ffffmhhh..hhhuff." izuku himself was limping in every sense to keep his composure and senses. He lost blood…a lot, against his soldered wounds with red iron…they came a bit too late.

Hurriedly and with trembling right hand, he positioned the woman's head according to his clouded memory and opened her mouth. The little girl clearly wouldn't have the force to resuscitate her mother, and he could spare no oxygen least he'd bite the dust, so he'd instruct her to artificially inhale when he'd give the signal.

"-bre-breathe a lot o-f air, and wh-when I s-signal you, close your mo-mother's n-ose, and ex-hale it down h-her throat.-DON'T let a-ny air e-escape then. U-understand?!" It took substantial effort to even talk anymore. It was more difficult than moving by now.

The girl understood, she had no choice, as Izuku began using his working arm, infused with the dying embers of One For All to apply compresses, counting as best he could to thirty, using enough force to potentially break the ribs, but that was a necessity to create the vacuum in the lungs. When he stopped and gave an audible grunt she'd exhale air in her mother's throat as he coached, urging her to do it again for two more times. Then he once more continued.

Eventually Illyana came along and helped to revive the dying mother.

…..repeated compressions….

…..repeated exhales….

…..

Six minutes passed, and at fifteen…it would be over.

…again….again…again….

Suddenly the woman twitched and gulped a breath of air like a newborn would…she made it…fortunately…but she could suffer brain damage from her time of oxygen deprivation. It exceeded five minutes for certain, and those were clumsily accounted by his hazy mind. But the medics were on their way. They were on their way.

Thus he resumed wandering from person to person, doing all he could, as little as he could…more and more finding himself tired when he attempted getting up…more tired each time if it was, and seemed to be, possible.

Eventually…sirens blared in the distance. Red lights, accompanied by blue ones lit the margins of the ravaged and broken land shrouded by night.

' Yes! Yes! Finally…finally, here. Here! Here!', even in the intimacy of his thoughts he lacked clarity. Once more…how long ago did his memories and mental faculties erode? Hmmm…it felt quite long ago if he were honest.

His right leg at last failed him, causing him to crash on his bended knee, slouching from his severed and burned in places back. He felt tired.

What would happen know if he were to close his eyes? Would he wake up from this nightmare back in his dorm? With Kota safely home? With everyone and Illyana as just delusional fabrications? He felt tempted to test that theory out. What had he got to lose now? Everything was alright now! Wasn't it?

Small hands, feeling extremely hot grabbed his right arm. With difficulty he craned his neck to see who it was.

'Would you look at that.. it's a kid. AAaaaahhh, no wait. Its Kota! What is he doing here?'

" Kota! What are you doing? Stay safe, away…away…in safe place, not here", clearly Izuku lost the battle to maintain his wits anymore. Kota saw this, and how could he not? He was looking at a delirious person just driveling words. And his arm felt as if burning with temperature the moment he touched it. He knew not of what this could mean, but it was nothing short of the natural reaction suffered by the body under infection.

That Moloch's venomous and vile blood must have caused this. It was to be expected, even if it didn't carry any bacteria or viruses, the blood's antigens would force his immune system in overdrive, especially with all the different genic mutations suffered by everyone nowadays, compatibility was at an all-time low.

Kota was afraid. Izuku just said he'd be OK! He just said he couldn't be toppled! And now…he was extinguishing before his eyes. His eyes were unclear, now he seriously doubted Izuku even knew who he was talking to anymore. And rightfully so, the young man believed to be drifting through his dreams again, as he tends to do whenever he relives events to assess them.

Only now he couldn't make anything of it and grew more tired by the second, eventually having enough of it to wrongly settle for a deep sleep and rest.

Kota shook him without stopping, struggling to decide on whether it mattered anymore to hide themselves and cry out his name in hopes of sobering Izuku. He struggled like this for some time, eventually deciding to make some sound.

" WAKE UUUP! WAKE UUUP! Come OOON! Don't LIE, wake up! You LIAR! Wake UUP!"…what could a child do in these moments truly? He could thrash around in hopes of rousing some response from his withering idol? Model? God! Fuck it , family by now! Just….trying for the seemingly impossible here!

But he didn't move, he was still awake, if barely, in a daze, standing kneeling before Kota and looking at him with a hollow stare.

"…hHHAAmmmmffff, come on, stay awake, stay awake!", Kota just knew, be it instinctually, from his past or from expectancy that going to sleep was bad. " Don't sleep!...HHaaahh, I-Iz-…ILLYANAAAAA! HEEEEELP!", Kota broke in tears and desperately called for the only other person he knew to be around. His cries haunted the devastated, almost silent and dark cemetery.

'Why was it becoming dark? Why is it getting silent? …Why?' Could only question the panicking boy.

He was losing the only person who ever bothered to stay with him after his parents, of his own will, waited and waited, persevering to help him, to assure he'd be able to move on his own through his most terrible moments. It took only months, but Midoryia grew to mean more than anyone else to his empty, close to lonely life. His aunt…was always gone, her friends as well…to little could they stay.

Izuku did. Even if he himself needed to go, he managed to stay. He bothered to speak to him on every occasion, to offer him a childhood through every story told by him and every moment walked around with him through that damned forest….just talking, but it was invaluable to the child. Even if he was busy, he would manage. He always would.

He seemed to be undaunted. Against Muscular. Against Overhaul…even earlier, against that invulnerable monster.

All to now…..

"ILLYANAAAAAA! HEEEELLPP!", once more he cried with every ounce of air his small lungs could muster.

Fast steps were heard thumping on the ground behind him. Trebling from shock as if under shivers with trails of tiers under his bagged eyes and swollen cheeks, Kota turned to see Illyana racing towards them.

She skidded on the ground the moment she grew close and wasted no time to administer an adrenalin shot in Izuku's jugular. After she made sure no blood escaped his puncture, she moved to transfuse a blood packet, no doubt taken from the medics, and a type O at that, definitely as to make sure he could accept this little amount.

Kota looked at her with hope….really, only hope. Expecting the answer she'd give.

….Illyana set Izuku laying on the ground as the blood from the pack slowly drained in his veins. She sighed and loosened her shoulders. Was that good? Did it mean he could be at ease?

Illyana just looked at Kota, gently quirking her mouth to transmit assurance that the administration of the injection and blood reached its purpose. Truthfully…it wasn't the case.

It was too late for that. It only spells end of chapter, as it would for any other found in those miserable and dire conditions, even more so with the late intervention. So in reality, she altered the blood through use of her abilities, rewriting its purpose in order to artificially reduce his metabolism, raise the production of erythrocytes and energize his catabolizing cells.

This…had to still remain unsaid for now, perhaps until later without mistake.

…... .

… .

In the back, the injured were taken on stretchers and loaded in ambulances towards the hospital. Others comforted and gingerly questioned by the authorities who followed the emergency calls made by the traumatized public, occasional startled passerby, or neighbor who happened to be in earshot of the unfolding events.

Izuku gathered enough composure and presence of self to clearly comprehend the world around him. Now trying to move, only to find deteriorated flesh spasm painfully at his commands. He settled for waiting a bit and take in his surroundings for a moment.

Not that he was presented with any other choice, considering his incapacity to walk, and the cool yet warm pair of hands that steadied him only emphasized his deplorable and miserable condition. Those hands did nothing to force him in obedience and sit, but they did however support his frame in his attempts and stabilized his swinging body when he could not rise.

" You couldn't have honestly imagined to walk the moment you gained some clarity, did you?", voice! A voice filled his ears, it was good; he didn't seem to lose any important senses. But returning to the rhetorical, he believed, question he was addressed with:

"….I'm not s-sure enough I c-can imagine s-so-omething now. I hon-estly didn't know what was hap-pening. I…I m-must have acted in-stinctually e-earlier. Or to de-determine my health…at least I'd l-li-like to believe t-that", It still proved to not be so easy to communicate, but…at least it was an improvement from earlier. Well, beggars can't be choosers.

" What n-ow? I should go with the po-lice, but that would mean y-you'd get away without ne-eding to explain what ha-penned earli-er. Besides, t-to m-many p-people saw m-me, and ha-ve given their tes-timonies. I must be r-registered al-already", reasoned Midoryia against his sorry state.

" If your sane enough to see reason and assess your circumstances, then I'll be taking it as a sign that you did and are recovering well. Well, not enough without rest for now", stated Illyana without skipping a beat, she must have already fought of something. He would have to trust her…he couldn't do much anyway, and this put him at her mercy.

" Don't worry about the local authorities, considering your state I've noted you in the registers made by the present medics as an emergency patient. Right now you should be at the hospital, but I've made clear of your inability to be moved…I may have inflated your urgency more than reality shows, believe it or not. But you are to be treated by the constantly present and equipped medic of Oura church, or at least that is what I've said", elaborated Illyana as she began to shoulder a good part of Izuku's weight in order to relocate at the church.

" How did y-ou m-manage that?", that earlier statement stunned Midoriya for a moment, so he needed to be sure he didn't just imagine things again.

Waiting for her response as Izuku insured himself he could stand enough to limp along the way: Momentarily, casting his attention towards the mangled object that was dumbly carried by the, maybe two, twitching fingers of his invalid left arm this entire time, in his entire wandering help over the victims.

All reminder of that artwork used in his nightmarish struggle was but the charred hilt, molded pommel and the persisting intricate coiled guard of the once claymore lay battered at his behest. There was no 'blade' to be accounted anymore…only the dull long shoulders erupted from the guard as if to say it once presented serviceable use.

He'd carry it regardless. It was perhaps the only reason he could have continued to do something in that slaughter.

" Each person entrusted with some responsibility in this place possess some false information and documents to validate the recorded 'professional figures' of this edifice. I hope this admission proves to be some show of good faith Artorias! Mmmhh", struggled Illyana for a moment along with Izuku in their walk towards the Oura church. It was a bit of a difficult track since they had to take a more concealed route as to maintain credibility of the made up story of his dire state, and Izuku was no more such a light silhouette as in his scrawny past. Getting spotted would only end in trouble.

With tired steps and slow pace they would eventually reach their destination, for Izuku's wounds still required indeed professional attention. And while he should prioritize that, he wasn't the type to care for himself, in majority of the situations…this would never further him unfortunately.

And besides, a small smile begged his tired lips for their caprice as he ruminated on some little details.

Indeed he was sane…sane enough to note how his actually death-sentencing wounds and loss of blood couldn't be resolved through just a mere adrenalin shot and some type O blood pack.

Illyana held very precious and important, furtive, information. And he….his covert for knowledge, relentlessly endured mortal peril to guide him as ever.

Ashen, as was his being, sought embers, all for purpose!

Furthermore, Kota needed to speak with Sosaki, and contacting from a hospital would be of no advantage. It would only beg for unnecessary attention with the commotion. Thus, it was better to do so from the basilica, where if need arose, Izuku could excuse them with a thought out reason. He always worked a way, didn't he?

Illyana made it clear that she'd reveal him some answers, and exclusively him. So he wouldn't permit himself to stomp his chances. It could very well be what he sought out for some time now: Answers and means to advance his ideals!

Selfish perhaps…no, definitely egoistic, but wasn't this a good use of selfishness? It was used completely inverse.

In truth, Izuku acted as a mad wolf when confronted with the fulfillment of his ambitions.

Ambitions…Mmm-hm-hm….the very definition of personal aspirations…used in the benefit of the many? What an infected wound in his existence! One who remained untended to, rotting away at his self in secrecy, with lasting repercussions! In secrecy even from himself.

What a slave, to those faulty and unfounded dreams….

Foolishly he believed this to be the good thing to do. He just did what he thought was right. As anyone would do in their own vision, Izuku was not to be condemned here. And he wouldn't be, if this particular decision of his wasn't so bare and gratuitous!

It may have held some value. Yet for all that, was this minimal value worth enough to outweigh the counterbalance?

But alas, no one holds wisdom without trudging through failure. And this developing lad knew not of basic principles:

Even good can be harmful if exaggerated!…. There must be a balance and limitation with everything! Too much of one working will lead to obsession and ruin!How many historical renowned personalities suffered from this? To forget the government and laws of life: Saving one person means…not being able to save another…

… foolish youth. Isn't it?…but so charming all at once, it must serve its role! As every step does….. yes…yes, as every step! Otherwise how do we ascend ourselves?

No worth is earned without suffering.

An old and creaky back door was haphazardly opened to let the struggling group within the church's walls. Pearly and gauzy moonlight in the shape of veils, made by miniscule specks, flooded with its weak intensity the darkened hall. The casted, morphing, shadows wriggled along tall walls, disappearing succinctly when the aging door was shut once more.

Only the narrow and high windows permitted ingress for the night's sun to remain witness of the unfolding events.

A moment's rest…followed by another heft of effort. Labored breathing with clumsy and thumping steps echoed along their walk in seek of a useable room to recover. Words couldn't be spared as of now by anyone, there was nothing to discuss anyway. What more to say about the one who probably found standing a challenge? Talking would have been too daring to desire.

Illyana had no jurisdiction over the properties of this place. This location and her business served as only momentary.

In short: she had no right to do more than she bargained for, thus using a room of the sanctums wasn't something permitted for her to do on a whim. Not that she really considered the semantics of her agreements right now. Priorities were priorities, and minuscule problems could be dealt with later.

The room they stumbled in on was indefinable in the deep dark, even the modest window was covered it seemed. Fortunately, there was electricity installed in this awful edifice.

So with a little shuffling around to find a switch, Illyana illuminated the frugal chamber, ushering Kota first to enter with Izuku after, almost dragging him by now, closing the door behind them as quite as possible.

They behaved no different from frightened and endangered mousses this night, searching to hide along the silent dark for safety. And there was much to face still.

Light, emanated from the small lustre located in the left celling's corner in a dirty yellow, a color more akin to what a vintage lamp would produce. Perhaps it was only fitting with the style of the furniture at that, closely resembling Victorian fashion. Not really impressing, but quite spectacular at creating a cozy atmosphere in the medium sized room.

Dark, polished browns that bordered black, hinted at the tough essence of the old carpentry.

The bed lowly creaked once Izuku was seated, not being permitted to rest on it yet. The nightstand was drawn closer as the improvised surgery utensils table, empty for now. Once set, Izuku was regarded with rigid eyes by Illyana, reminding his necessity to do as told: she informed of her need to gather some supplies and short return. Her emphasized last phrase couldn't have been misheard: " Wait for me here, and don't do anything else! I will return soon, stay quiet!"

And once the door close, Kota remained to stare as he did this entire time at the shivering Midoryia. Unsure of what would happen now.

As any child in this kind of surroundings of 'hush, hush!' and seemingly made behind the back of authorities, or supposedly people you were urged to contact first…he didn't fell alright. He was simply scared, and oddly enough enthralled by this feeling. Unknown to Kota, those were the manifestations of his trauma: An undesirable illness for the mind as any other, this type especially miserable for its slow and hidden festering propensity.

Memory's calls upon those feelings experienced earlier when seeing the church, and how he was close to begging then for a tour around it; a tour around the very thing that unnerved him at that, made Kota slip in his pit of misery again, however this time only worse than ever…since he pinned himself as the one at fault.

Before…back then, his parents paid the price of their own accord and aware of what would follow. But now…Izuku wouldn't be like this if not for him. The hundreds of people wouldn't be at the hospital if he shut his mouth. If…..If…; he cried, hollow and dry sobs; long since having dulled his lacrimal glands.

They were choked sobs. He couldn't forget what the nice lady said earlier about silence. And he didn't want to cause Izuku any more problems…as likely each time.

Seeing the freaked child, Izuku couldn't really move or converse with him, or even gesture him really. So he settled for uttering some words to distract Kota. In actuality, they were more akin to grunts than words, but they worked none the less.

Kota felt inclined to overrule Midoriya's attempts at dialogue. He felt it would be better by keeping to himself, and resist until he'd return 'home'…having an inkling of suspicion on what his model might try. And he had no wish to permit him that. Adding any more, or forcing him, to do any more than what he already faced this night wasn't an option for Kota. It felt pitiful to even think of comforting himself by the war-torn hero.

But…neither could he just brush off his labored attempts at comfort ignorantly. So, he'd play along…from a distance. He was resolute of this to be the best choice, hence why he regarded Izuku attentively from a distance.

Izuku saw Kota stare at him from afar with a hardly subdued expression, enhanced by his tired, red and tear marked face. He didn't approach him and remained quiet, Midoriya didn't know what to do from here.

There was no threat present; all the people safely moved to the hospital; they were safe inside the church, and his wounds would be managed. So what was there left to do? Not like he could do something even if he knew what…he had no reservoir of strength and focus left.

So there was only silence between them.

One minute passed.

Five minutes passed…

Eventually, a quarter of an hour passed.

And they continued to wait in silence. In the mute room, it could be distinctly discerned how drops of water hit the window and ceiling outside. The old, stone and wood, structured building made a soothing background noise, yet felt misplaced with the present surroundings.

By the sound of it, the rain would most likely become torrential. What time was it now? Izuku did well to inform Sosaki about his and Kota's 'rescheduled' all day trip. But he was certain that it wouldn't last, so it was most probable of her to contact them, and since his phone was now scraps…it would very well create a good deal of worry.

That worry was dangerous, since it could create a domino effect and alert others, ultimately reaching his principle if this wasn't taken care off.

And now it just might be the time to do that, Illyana returned carrying a tray with metallic utensils, gleaming as the sterilized ones found in a surgery room before an operation, though these ones didn't look quite the same.

Placed on the nightstand beside the bed, the young man could define their shape better: one in particular looked like sleek tweezers, elongated and sturdy, with complex ends that allowed placement for perhaps other components. And another resembled a bistoury, however its blade was pulled along the length of the slim handle, presenting miniscule and fine jags.

There was a mirror and other common utensils not interesting enough to note, not as interesting as the supplies and few papers brought along. Some bottles weren't labeled by known producers, or any producer at that, just written a name and details on them with permanent marker. And the few papers, enchased in transparent wraps were detailing anatomic sections and organs, no doubt brought to check certain criteria when operating him.

' How am I still conscience? How can I still move?' common sense would say that such a feat would be impossible and inhuman. But common sense seemed lost from the moment the chimera made its debut.

Izuku didn't recognize everything written and illustrated in pencil, as detailed as they were, from his discreet glances at the sheets. Now this perhaps wouldn't pose of much interest to everyone, but…since he bothered so much to familiarize with substantial medical information to contradict Recovery Girl at some level, this was very intriguing.

He never herd of 'false circuits/organs', and by the seriousness of the situation and his deduction of what Illyana could know, he could safely conclude that these weren't worthless notes, they had to serve a use.

"…You don't need to act so stealthy if you're curious. Why would I bother hiding something brought to be seen?" said Illyana without looking at him, as she positioned everything needed to work around her close.

Caught like a kid, Izuku felt a small twinge of embarrassment at her statement. It made sense now that she said it. While he had no problems to openly analyze everything he could about someone when seen in action, he wasn't perfectly attuned with himself examining someone's belongings.

But hey! At least he gained permission with that statement. Though now his priorities shifted to question whatever he could remember.

Waiting with Kota while she was gone gave him enough time to muster some strength and speak clear enough now.

"… Illyana, if it's not a bother, could you give Kota a phone to call home?", successfully asked Izuku with a slow turn of his neck to better look at the girl.

" Of course, we agreed on this anyway before", fishing through a pocket of her dress, Illyana took out her phone and handed it to Kota, she was sure to realize why Izuku couldn't call himself, given by his slow and weak speech.

Looking at Kota, Midoriya weighed his words momentarily and talked evenly to be heard correctly and stop his occasional slur: " You know what to say when you call Kota? I could do it a bit latter if you want".

That, didn't fare well with the small lad, he decided earlier he'd do whatever he could alone and stop bothering Midoriya with problems. So hearing that question made him only feel more ashamed, thus only few things were left to be said:

" No thanks, it's OK. I can do it alone", true enough, this wouldn't be the first time he lied to the pussycats, far from it, using to do so frequently back when he still held animosity towards them for being heroes.

But moreover, his last line was delivered a little cold and more forced, though he didn't like doing it, it maybe would stop Izuku from worrying and allow him to make it up somewhat.

With the last response given, Midoriya wouldn't impose on Kota, so he'd trust him. When seeing him walk towards a corner of the room to talk he couldn't help but think he distanced the child from himself somehow.

A crestfallen sensation filled his stomach at that thought, believing that he must have endangered his charge with the last brush with death, and now he was being cast aside by the child in consequence.

' I should have said NO, I should have refused his plead before. Why did I allow him? Why? It wasn't right? Why did I do it? ...Now what do I do?' thought ragingly Izuku, faulting himself for making that idiotic choice. Seeing himself as the sole cause for the entire disaster.

If he left, Illyana would have successfully rounded everyone and took care of the Moloch with whoever was supposed to, without endangering Kota or someone else.

Picking up on his mood and most probably understanding the assumed attitude, Illyana chose to speak, a little more quietly as to not disturb Kota:

" If I were you, I wouldn't think myself at fault. You did everything you did with what you knew, there's no need for drama. Besides, there's no death sentence for living", what Illyana referenced was most likely the aspect in which life is conducted. That was clear to Izuku, and since he didn't act on ill intention and did all he could to remedy the situation from her implied meaning, he had no reason to beat himself over. Not like he'd achieve anything by doing it either.

It was the sensible conclusion to draw upon, besides the fact that there was no need for drama, as she said. So while Izuku understood and agreed in full, that didn't wash his guilt completely. Once again, revision can be cruel to us circumstantially.

He was sure to revisit this event extensively within his mind later; another mistake to learn by he guessed.

" I didn't know you were the medical 'professional figure' you told me about. How did you learn?", it made for a good starting point to converse from. And Izuku felt curious about what she intended on doing.

" Surprising right? Normally you'd meet a proper medic after years of training. And justifiably so, I'm not a general medic or surgeon! I am just knowledgeable enough to tend to some physical trauma. But that's better than nothing I suppose", of course she knew other, more explicit and important, details used in her work. But for now there was no need to address such things.

" Could you give me the mirror?" requested Illyana as she checked the grievous wounds from his back. They were shut by drops of brass and steel to avoid lethal blood loss and further infections, while it would provide some chance at recovering the severed muscle groups.

This would prove to be difficult, but there was no rush. He was occupied with the beast. She had to be especially focused for this part.

Izuku slowly extended his arm in reach for the mirror, aching and struggling with the few remained skeletal muscles, he experienced a very bitter feeling from the porous crags of uneven metal scrape against his flesh, creating excruciating friction. It made him subconsciously grind his teeth.

"…..", the request made for the mirror was done to observe his movement and condition, specifically the most affected area. And Illyana preferred to analyze information from its own volition, rather than forcefully pulling at his wrecked body. Besides there was the possibility to create complications by doing that, so this was the most viable option. A willed action would always attest better results.

As the pained man knew too well from experience the reason for this request, he handed over the mirror, catching glimpse of himself in a corner.

What irony that in such circumstances he'd ruminate about himself. His face aged appropriately with his body, and dare he say commensurate to his experiences.

His cheeks weren't the puffy dough he was associated with, now nicely contouring his cheekbones and giving form to his face. His eyes, while as usual, although seeming different, weren't the bulbous deer ones as in the past, now finely shaped. All along with his jaw starting to frame the chin, offered him a proper visage worth of a growing man.

One he wouldn't be left alone with by his mother, constantly praising how handsome and charming her child came to grow. It was embarrassing, but very comforting to hear someone say, especially when he heard the honesty and pride of those words. He didn't collect much praise after all.

Izuku, was intriguing when compared to the average Japanese citizen. His features became less and less native by the passing time. Even with the existence of quirks, they only altered appearance based on their use or that was just their function; to sport curls, freckles and not any shade of green eyes that could be born from mutation, were foreign features among these parts.

Why wouldn't they be? In actuality, Izuku was only partially, and not by much at that, Japanese. With his father being European and his mother somewhere to half-native, it was no surprise. It just happened that his genic codes would show themselves this way, tending to incline with age towards his dominant heritage.

But thinking about this reminded Izuku of the girl behind him: she, unlike him was a complete stranger, no doubt never having even lived here before. Her name and distinguishable accent made no effort at hiding this fact.

Maybe this could prove as an acceptable point from where to continue talking.

" I assume you aren't from here, are you, maybe Europe?... Sorry if I'm too nosy!" Izuku wasn't the most interrogatory person when coming to rustling through someone's personal life. But…he was especially curious in this moment.

" Somewhat. I've lived in America a great deal of time, and more recently lived in Germany. Out of your list of questions I had no idea it was so thorough as to document everything about me!" a coy smirk could be heard in her voice from behind him, she must have been somewhat amused, deduced Izuku as he blushed the pale shade he could. That was a good sign for him to continue.

But before he'd answer, he pleasantly remembered that she always seemed to distinguish her humor through some vocal oscillation. At least there was no reason to further redden his face at the joke.

" Sorry, I th-thought it was a sensible question", an unnecessary attempt at excusing himself. Izuku was just grown this way, polite as he was, and growing up subjected to all manner of discrimination did nothing to stop his unhealthy apologetic habit.

" I was aware of this nation's emphasis on things such as apologies and privacy. But you're being too extreme with it. …You are aware, there was no problem, right?" quick to point out, Illyana turned the tables on who asks who. But it wasn't much of a problem, better to reciprocally know the person who helps you.

" But that aside, you are right to talk, aren't you Artorias? It came in easy for you to distinguish me from the majority. Your behavior doesn't seem to back you up", this however…stank of 'oh-oh'!

Izuku, in his aery thoughts didn't think out every little detail as per usual. It was too late to remember that he basically played a game of chess here.

Fortunately, as always, there are ways around a problem, his raw appearance could somewhat support him? He just needed to be careful from now on. And if worst came to worst he'd admit the truth, since considering Illyana's willingness to uncover some things about her, him doing the opposite would be only hypocritical.

" In contrast with you, I've spent most of my life here, only recently visiting some other countries. Incidentally, being your home at that", he chose his words carefully, there was no room for stuttering here, just as it was best to avoid words as 'well', 'you see', 'that's because', or so and so. These were small things, but one by one they amounted to key details.

He was no fool, especially now, to believe she wouldn't pick up on these things. As regarding what he said earlier, it wasn't a lie at all. He did spend most of his life in this country, and he just recently visited an island belonging to the U.S. where he met Melissa. So he couldn't be named a liar at that.

" Mhhm. Well I must be quite honored to be acquainted with you by your lesser known name Artorias. Kota over there seemed quite stunned at not knowing such a thing", downhill summed up pretty nicely how the situation went for Midoriya as of now. He needed to mull over this for a moment. All of a sudden he begged for her to stop the inspection, and do something worth a jolt of pain to play as an excuse.

And as if throwing him a bone, she did just that. Placing a cool hand – perhaps warm, but his fever said otherwise – upon his back immediately erupted with discomfort.

Pleasantly surprising, there was no awful pain to experience as he assumed, it was bearable. But Izuku quickly realized it to be due to his most likely lost or worn out nervous receptors. At least it was a plus for him in this regard.

But he had to respond. The best thing he could do now was to take the bull by the horns. He was a horrible liar, using only nuanced admissions. He'd play to his strong suits and use honesty in his advantage since nothing else proved to work.

" I admit…I'm not really lenient to give too much about myself. I believe I've put enough of the puzzle together to know with who I'm talking", evenly and clear, one phrase at a time. Said loud enough for even Kota to hear him across the room, nothing to hide from the kid, Izuku replied to his surgeon. His neck craned as much as it allowed, twisting a bit his abdomen to make visual contact with Illyana, he prayed his admission would suffice.

" I have no intention to earn more hardship, you can't blame me here", his final answer was delivered as he pointed with his eyes towards Kota, a double bladed tactic, making sure to let Illyana understand his need to be maintain security for himself and the child as much as possible. His tone didn't waver and held finality in its deepened tone, a performance worth the pride of those who knew him.

" I understand you. To be honest, it's refreshing to meet someone weary enough to properly attempt at avoiding problems. Though I must repeat, for what is worth, you don't have to keep being on edge. I know anyway when you are; you just tense immediately when so, and your voice doesn't bend as you'd like it to."

As if struck by lightning, Izuku realized the futility in his attempts…attempts, she even called them so. And since he didn't seem to have something to lose, he might as well finally exhale his stress away.

Now that he thought about it…she could have just ended him, trapped him or Kota, or do anything to him with some acolytes instead of helping him out and personally tending to him. That was his more morbid side giving its opinion. But Illyana didn't seem as that kind of person.

He could risk it. If worst came to be, he'd assume it.

Illyana inclined herself over his right shoulder and grabbed the unique looking bistoury and a scalpel, allowing some of her fresh-snow white locks graze him. It reminded him of Eri! He couldn't help but wonder how she was and if she'd like meeting Illyana, she did strike him as a genuine person. Kota at least seemed to appreciate her enough for being a complete stranger.

" I'll leave this subject end here if you want so Artorias. I have to get started with your wounds anyway", a nice gesture, Izuku appreciated this. He was in no mood and had no vigor to continue this back and forth.

Now he'd close his eyes, trying to relax, as he sat on the old bed, with Illyana sowing and patching him together. He'd continue asking after.

Once clothes, now fresh: dirty and stiff rags were ripped from the few fibers that loosely connected them in corners of the battered body. Thrown aside at some foot of the bed, not like they mattered anymore, they were reduced to clumps of dirt, blood, dust and seems.

Antiseptic solutions cleaned the sot and dirt accumulated over and beneath the torn flesh.

Dead skin that hanged on was disposed along with withered deep tissue.

Finally, the harder part came to be: Slowly and gently with the miniature machete of a bistoury and scalpel, the beads of cooled alloys were removed one at a time, occasionally struggling with parts that covered more surface and looked akin to plates.

The exposed deep and bright red flesh could now be reached. But the main priority was to link the arteries and veins.

While these structures held elastic properties, they wouldn't stretch forever, and moreover even if they did they wouldn't resist the blood's rushing pressure.

Honestly the only reason Izuku hadn't succumbed to his lesions was all thanks to the residual effects of the bestowed miracle, back from the graveyard confrontation.

She'd have to shed some light about that phenomenon later inevitably.

It was an outright unbelievable sight to behold for anyone, to people as knowledgeable as her or to the most alien quirk wielders out there.

Making use of a few unknown, by Midoriya, dark colored bottles, the white haired lady concocted a gel to link the damaged circulatory system, followed by giving it a short moment to coagulate.

Within this segment of time, medium sized tablets of brittle texture, giving a burnt sugar impression for their exterior were crushed in the girl's hand. Or at least that was the most accurate description Izuku could come up with when seeing the used tablets.

Pops and cracks muffled by the palm that applied pressure continued for mere seconds before completely stopping. The same viscous and alien liquid, with buoyant properties, seen by Izuku in the graveyard seeped through Illyana's tight fist.

Carefully adding a small quantity of drops in symmetric order over the gel, the necessary matter required for producing specific cells in a greatly accelerated pace was provided.

This action followed the principle used in cellular cultivation: once established a fertile and nutritious bounded environment for either specific or blank cells, they'd start multiplying and assume functions.

This end was met through an interesting approach, Izuku could observe this much through his bended and inclined head to look at what Illyana did. Or, what he could hardly see. There was only so much he could see as he stood.

Izuku wasn't the type to be disgusted or scared by blood and exposed innards. He expected to see such things in hero work, and being accustomed to them would prove advantageous, and of course he was evidently helped by his peculiar nature.

Mixing the leftover foreign liquid with the earlier made gel in a small steel tray, Illyana took the slim and sleek metal tweezers with complex ends. Inspecting the tweezers, the fae skinned girl added small and pointed hooks, streaked with ridges at each end.

Dabbing the tweezers ends in the mixture while forcing his deeply slashed back, Izuku's pseudo surgeon connected the tweezers ends with a side of the divided tissue, beginning to coil her hand as if turning a door knob upwards.

Thus, in repeated motions Illyana eventually 'sewed' his slashed back together.

Safely allowing for it to be secured and protected by many lines of bandages, all overlapping in x's and diagonals over his torso, so as to secure him from accumulating other pathogens. A much deserved exhale announced her success at scavenging his back and a short break.

All left now was the left deltoid and right thigh.

" I hope you didn't plan on getting shuteye this night" said the girl ironically while she rested for a moment before she'd continue, choosing to stand as Izuku did on the bed.

" Shouldn't I say that? Sorry about inconveniencing you. I'd have been alright with the hospital… But I didn't know you'd keep your word" shyly uttered Izuku, he never felt at peace with being helped, disdaining to encumber anyone with his person.

" You must either be easily forgetful or far to rooted in your habits! Aren't you?" a bemused claim made by Illyana reminded Izuku of the earlier discussion. His far too humble attitude proved to be as annoying and persistent as his mumbling habit was.

Yes, he came to stop himself from loudly speaking anymore well enough by now. The whole loud self-speaking evolved to make him cringe at its existence. He'd work on it.

" But at least someone can rest this night, or what's left of it", murmured Illyana while pointing with her look at Kota, who peacefully slept on a low and wide, coated armchair, finally overcome by fatigue.

He sat nestled in a corner of the armchair, clutching Illyana's phone in a hand lazily. He must have successfully spoken with Mandalay or someone from home since he didn't approach them to ask for help.

….. Wearily sighing, the green haired man kneaded his fingers while thinking. Sitting slouched on the bed beside Ilyana, with Kota soundly sleeping made for a memorable painting. His frame, while not enormous as he'd admired All Might's was no less imposing, stood tiredly supported by his arms on worn-out legs, contrasted with the slim almost frail silhouette of the fae like girl. What a night!

This moment, this very stillness in time wouldn't fail to resurface along his memories, inscribed to reflect upon it forevermore. The reason was simple: everything that unfolded tonight tore apart his understandings on some level.

It brought him to live moments and feelings unlike before, and face things unlike before, all topped with witnessing an inexplicable event. It looked as a moment in his life worth crystalizing among others. But this one didn't bring him overwhelming joy and hope, it didn't bring him confidence and resolve as a scarce few; at least unlike what he felt late in the tomb littered war-ground. It instilled fear within his heart, uncertainty and vigilance among others. And standing high above all was the anxiety that nestled deep within, whispering claims at something bad already having befallen him.

Something in regards to the invasive moment that played through his brain and messed with his sanity and memories. Having severed and broken things like a thief that storms a house, leaving nothing but an unrecognizable mess behind. And he couldn't know what had been damaged. After all how could he if, god's forbid, truly he'd been expunged of shards and segments that recorded his life? He didn't know!

The fear of the unknown was the greatest obstacle that could be presented in life. It is the very antithesis to our purpose and actions, for to not know what to believe or do strips us of our purpose, executing our person throughout every imaginable means.

…... .

… .

A warm, silent, still and mixed atmosphere between crestfallen and anticipation of the unknown, rounded by the cold and dark outside of torrential rain, imbedded the final product that represented this painting.

All left to do was to continue. He'd make use of the present break and ask a few more questions, was what Izuku settled for. These regarding the events unfolded in the cemetery:

" Illyana…if you're alright with it…I'd like to know what happened tonight. You understand better than anyone what I mean….Please, can you explain to me enough?" it was a noticeable change regarding Izuku's choice to address from earlier: His request held no traces of apprehension, no doubtful disposition…just plain honesty and genuine biding for a sufficient answer.

Tilting her head to fix him in the eyes, allowing short white bangs that adorned a little of her forehead to incline as well, Illyana kept like this for a very short second and gave a nod. " Of course…. But do please be very attentive, in respect to this I won't repeat myself, it's important to keep quiet about this even more. Important enough, for me to ask that in exchange for what I'll impart, that you swear to secrecy!"

There it was! Izuku expected as much, there was no reason not to. He could understand very well, either from him simply becoming keenly aware as he matured, or in empathizing through his secrecy with One For All, and All Might's condition. Well…the latter one was at some point meant to remain secret, yet he failed.

' But now! Maybe…I, I could?', indeed a second chance revealed itself to Midoriya, he couldn't permit himself failure here. There was no capacity for him to fail. Everything that just transpired was earned, even if at the time unknowingly, through experiencing so much. He wouldn't relive that shame from the past. He desperately desired to one day atone somehow, and opportunity budded for him before his eyes. He most likely didn't think perfectly, not as he would if flawlessly intact, but…he sincerely wished to redeem himself before his mentor.

Yes, well aware that his mentor would never know… but wasn't that the entire idea of it? Sometimes, the best deeds faded unsung, this reality wasn't alien to Izuku.

" I swear."

There was no need to present a flourish of overabundant conviction or emotion; there was no need to speak with exaggerated grand tones.

Everything had its own time, and now simple words of simple meaning, delivered through stoic lips after a few moments of thinking fit best.

Naturally, Izuku presumed for the possibility of their being some drawbacks when he'd seek for answers. But if the drawback consisted of his mouth keeping shut, he could adhere to the conditions. Suspecting for the real problem to be nothing but his use of what he'd learn, inevitably that was the principle abided by all information.

" I'll try keeping it short and simple to follow, it'd take too long for an entire explanation. And more importantly after I finish cleaning the wounds, you'll need to speak to someone else for further details", and so, with a little unease germinating in Midoriya's stomach, he'd be initiated. Apprehension made him feel jittery and cold to hear out answers.

" First, to keep some order… you must know of what happens in reality and kept hidden from the public. I saw you've already got the gist about existing associations who deal in those fields when you identified me. However you clearly don't know what specifically", the beginning looked promising for Izuku, he'd be exposed to more about the very thing he sought and was warned by Toshinory.

" Artorias. The very nature of the world has been documented and researched since the rise of men. Studies and hard work proved the existence of laws and components that make up our reality. Science rose to pioneer this pursuit of knowledge, and after centuries of contradictions and persecutions achieved world recognition."

" What you have witnessed and experienced in the graveyard, including your tending, were the same information and phenomenon searched and achievable through science. Only, that they were reached through other means: Because it was a primordial discovery and appeared indefinable long in the past, it was named many things. After a considerable amount of time it was finally refined as magecraft, a branch of research based on rare and unnatural phenomenon among the more common ones. In short, it jumped ahead of its time to days such as these, by permitting people's imaginations to be realized, different to nowadays technology", things already…went…odd.

Izuku felt impelled to roll his eyes, thinking he truly hit his head back at U.A's dormitories, and fell in a deep weird comma. Buuut…they lived in a world of quirks that granted powers, thought unachievable in the past.

And many of their effects were unexplainable, such as Aizawa's eyes: what radiation did they emanate to disrupt physiological functions, and specifically of a quirk's no less? A simple example.

Izuku initially inclined to not accept this, if only based on the fact that…he may as well have known truly nothing about Earth, its people and its occurrences. Once, his perception was rocked by All Might, and now again. He feared what else could lie and wait, shrouded by the unknown. Like the pages of a book, the grater mystery waited to be peeked at. A vicious cycle for sanity to shoulder.

And according to Lovecrafian horror: there could have waited so much for them…that it would eventually drive them insane, purely overwhelming them and their comprehension, through the monstrous insight that could be amounted.

And now, such fears appeared well founded to a disturbing degree, justifying abominations like the raging and hellish chimera. It is as said: Exactly what we fear is what we'll confront with.

But Izuku's eyes remained transfixed on Illyana's, it transmitted the message: desire and curiosity remained undeterred, and so his attention didn't waver.

" That creature, is a good example of these oddities. Reason as to how your attempts at harming it were futile. The principle for how that happened can be applied in the majority of this domain, specifically: When you commit an action of any kind, is no different than a written line of text on paper, the paper being our reality. That line of text can be cut, erased or overwritten by the laws of the World, if they are to be bended right. The same happened there and right now when I operated on you."

" And by using those principles would have been the only way for me to either survive or stop that 'thing' wasn't it? And somehow it happened, can you tell me about that?" amounting to no less, Izuku's enviable intellect could keep up with the amount of info dump he was subjected to, slowly but surely becoming immersed in those facts.

" Correct, I'm glad to see your focused. But I was about to get there… what happened in your last struggle with the creature was exactly that. Due to many factors, specifically: the situation and the dire circumstances, the accumulated minds of the present people, the unnatural presence of the chimera, your undoubtedly informed mind about some satisfactory knowledge and false circuits allowed for the creation of a miracle."

' So that was it! It felt alike to what Illyana described: I felt a great recollection of what I studied most of my life, oddly being what I appreciated the most. The situation, monster and people as well I understand. Now what was that about false circuits? I saw them on some papers just before', racing and burning, piecing and analyzing, Midoriya's brain did what it always did best. It helped him as much as it aggravated him. He gained more questions for every answer.

" As for the miracle specifically… I must keep it somewhat vague, as you are you be elucidated later by the person I said you'd see. But essentially, you contributed as a deformed catalyst, creating a viable means for an Epic Soul to assume you as its vessel. Reason as to why you possessed the abilities, knowledge and aptitude to confront the creature successfully; and especially why you survived this long. As for what is an Epic Soul, it's nothing short of a famous and renowned person who greatly contributed to humanity, becoming immortalized by us, carried through memories, writings, cultures or lands themselves.

Stupefied…Amazed…Surprised…Awed…many more such feelings roller coasted through the weakened man. He couldn't believe it. Yet he DID! This explained so much for him!

That must have been why he could contact the previous wielders of One For All, that must have been how he gained their power, and that must have been how he could interact with them! Right?!

That must have been the person who saved him in his sentence to death! Izuku was ecstatic, he felt as a child once more. Deep awe and admiration, coupled with thirst to know more banished any traces of sleep and weariness. A story unlike any other he read before transpired with him living it, how could he not be immersed beyond his understanding?

Unfortunately, this made for all he'd learn from Illyana, for she couldn't just ignorantly and dumbly unveil all he'd like. There was a responsibility to uphold with this knowledge, and Izuku was already far to honored to know this much.

" I'd tell you more, yet you can put things together well enough by now for why I can't. Moreover, I need to continue with your shoulder and thigh. So let's not waste time anymore", fair enough, Izuku could understand that. His health always escaped his priorities and his sudden explosion of awareness and energy brought back the pain in full, he almost forgot about, growing from its dull throb to searing jolts, very similar to impalements made by spearheads.

Besides, he didn't miss the bite in Illyana's retort about his reason to live now. Perhaps he was to blame, well…he was, and in full at that!

Izuku wasn't mentally retarded or challenged, against the constant peril he willingly put himself in without means for him to escape from. It was all the product of his inane conditioning, believing to grow closer to All Might by sacrificing his self on a daily basis. In reality, he possessed a strong sense of self preservation, one that was wrongly overruled by his self-made image of worthlessness and expandability.

The poor fool could come to endanger his worth in the future by repeating this mistake, of course if he didn't die by then.

… Silence returned again in the company of quiet clangs of steel utensils against metal beads, occasionally inciting grunts of pain from the operated patient. The anesthetic provided by the used substances was only a secondary byproduct and thus, not extraordinarily potent, yet it was better than a dangerous dose that could lead to comma.

It would eat some hours, but… it was good. The atmosphere felt finally at ease, more comforting. Although the strong bolts of pain that coursed randomly through his nerves would bother him from time to time, he honestly began feeling at ease.

Her cool touch, now beginning to feel warmer, was soothing as it expertly departed his flesh from the metal, once used to extend and roughly coddle his life, averting his premature death.

Illyana seemed to be a compassionate and stoic person, and someone who seemed to enjoy occasionally making fun of hardships. No doubt, as with any other person there must have been more to her, but the essential of his thought? He could call her trustworthy, if nothing else for now, so maybe he just may have won a reliable friend in the future.

… . ….It felt interesting.

It felt…really good, if Izuku were honest. To be able to say he knew of someone outside the academy that he went with through some marking events, at least on his and Kota's part, felt unnaturally thrilling.

He could finally call something his own, a crucial moment in his small existence that traversed grater planes, leaving him addicted to obsessively search continuation. Although the night proved devastating and abominable, he found the worth in enduring through it.

A new acquaintance and chapter written by him, in his most treasured place from the town. Yes! This was indeed thrilling.

Sterile of pathogens to avoid infections, filled deltoid, covered leg and sewed back, Midoriya could finally relish in the comfy feeling given only by the puffy, long and adhesive bandages. A far too familiar sensation known to him.

Red spots would form beneath the deep layers of bandages observable on the outside. Fortunately for him, he assumed, his nicely bandaged torso made up for his lack of upper clothes. His pants were only missing their right leg and his exposed thigh was just as well bandaged. Perhaps in some far off country those pants would most likely be seen as trendy or fashionable, but what did he know?

After a rigid, bothersome bow and honest appreciation, Izuku remained to follow Illyana, while Kota would remain in the room to rest. They'd return here later to pick him up and decide what to do next.

A look at himself and test of the arm pleasantly made Midoriya aware of their fast recovery, assuming his body had yet to assume full capacity yet, that little fact was astounding. ' Not even Recovery Girl can pull this off, with her quirk to boot at that! It's incredible! Would I be able to practice these methods as well? They're invaluable if I can use them for hopeless victims! Better than surgical intervention at that!'

These thoughts helped Midoriya to control his nervousness and unease as he followed Illyana through a high corridor of stone masonry and arches. It unsettled him the further he walked along, ferocious chills traversing his skin and icing his spine at every second.

The emptiness above the stone arches allowed for a haunting atmosphere to envelop the air. Moonlight filtered in abundant waves of translucent pale light without relent, from their ridiculously high placements.

' Has the rain stopped?', in reality, it didn't.

The only thing that adorned his bandaged frame was Illyana's shawl, given to cover his back and give him some layer of clothing. It was nice to find the shawl being quite long, up 'til now worn folded gave the illusion of it being smaller. It made as an improvised vest for now.

Finally their walk reached the side door, entering the main chapel's body.

" Alright Artorias, I'll stay by to help you speak with the Iudex, knowing him, this meeting won't be as smooth as you'd want", hearing 'his' name uttered littered his conscience with nails of guilt, maybe he should talk about that afterwards. More importantly now…if he didn't mishear Illyana, she just said Iudex.

Now Izuku, unlike most of the populace of his or other countries, held an impressive general culture, and the specified title didn't go by him without its possible implications.

" I'll met 'the judge'? Thought this was a church not a court", an ignorable attempt at humor couldn't harm anyone, Illyana seemed lenient to such things as a plus. And if he could recall anything from All Might and Sir Nighteye, then it was to try at least and hold some composure. It just so happened for humor to come in most handy.

" Sharp eye for details, nice to see that from time to time. And while yes, the name does represent 'judge', you don't have to be concerned, you have no purpose here within his specialty. Right now it's just his title and nothing more", thankfully that was cleared. Now there was nothing left but coming face to face with this Iudex.

" Word of advice! Don't play his game! So don't be intimidated, and I think it's in your best of interests to resume your vigilance as before, only now be more careful. He's unforeseeable enough to not know for sure what he'll do. In rest, I'll intervene if necessary", these were all good to know, Izuku definitely noted that. It unfortunately had the drawback of further unnerving him.

" That's some help your giving me! Shouldn't you be on 'his' side?" sensible question. Why would she decide to prepare him this much before he'd even meet with Iudex.

" Truth be told, I'm not 'on the same side' with him or anyone associated with this edifice. There was only a common interest between our associations for me to even be present. Besides, I like to think I'm not soulless. Thought you'd get that by now", well….now he just felt bad, yes, worse than previous.

But he couldn't be faulted, what was he to do? By now he was pretty sure all left for him was the universe start screaming at him: 'Stop being a complete moron, and DON'T TRUST everything you see, hear and read!' So he acted accordingly, he'd keep in mind from now on to regard Illyana differently however.

" I know you pointed out that me apologizing too much can be annoying, but this time, I didn't intend to offend. Sorry, I'll keep what you said in mind", he expected her to have just teased him before, but, it didn't hurt to make sure.

A halfhearted exhale denoted her just teasing him earlier, though it didn't sound exasperated, so that must have been good.

" You did good enough to at least remember what I, and most likely others have said. Nobody expects change over the night, so again, take it slow. …But thanks, by now I don't think you're the kind to randomly say things in these moments", hmm, good to know he left this impression, but now moving on to more important things!

Creaking, as almost everything within this place, the door opened without much effort to present the…stunning interior.

Following the same motif of gothic architecture as the part of this town, an incredible ceiling was one of the eye catching features: Wide and sharp oval arches, distances by meters of space, connected the stout pillars, chiseled to form statues of various saints. It was quite the engineering marvel to behold such slim and elongated arches sustaining the weight of the ceiling.

Some straight narrow bridges symmetrically linked the divided sections, drawing the eye to appraise the old and artistic carvings in the stone of motifs and images. Izuku had to admit, although the hair on his back, if he had any left, stood on ends, this chapel was quite impressive from the inside.

The robust pillars wore four faces, each as observed before presenting a saint, rested on the great marble floor. Speaking of which, it didn't look to be made from plates or designed in some specific way to go with the decorum. It was a colossal chunk of stone…odd.

Other elements such as the pews and stained glass, modeled in portraits, didn't add to the grandeur, in fact it cemented the ominous air around them. In the upper half of the chapel, the air could be seen shimmering and slowly distorting as in the day, but the illumination provided by the moon didn't make for a pleasurable image.

Wasn't there a torrential downpour outside?

But, the worst of the present only now could be taken in. Music… once more produced by the organ, placed somewhere up above most probable, filled the emptiness.

Strange, how it wasn't picked up from behind the door.

This melody didn't boom as its predecessor. Far from it, it was close to muted, but limpid, devoid of an imposing scope. As subtle as it was, it felt like the walls themselves oscillated and shivered with the rhythm, undetectable by the naked eye. It was better to imagine the grains of dust and stone accumulated within the walls grinding under pressure in pace to the organ.

It gave the impression of the walls to be a colossus' corpus, purring and thrumming with life in its age old slumber.

Izuku's heart began to beat faster and faster, preparing to supply a surplus of oxygen if the eventual need arose.

Haunting and somber, the notes fell on years. To hear such a piece would chill any person to their marrow, it felt intent on causing its listeners dread with its sinister metallic aspect. Abrupt use and abandon of keys denoted the partition's composition.

So there was no surprise when a silhouette made itself known from the weakly candle lit alter by suddenly closing a book, signaling its presence.

Short, echoing, heavy steps approached the pair, in the process causing the moon's light distinguish the darkened visage and form that lazily kept its hands behind its back.

A very tall man, situating at All Might's shoulders when he used to be more than emaciated, wore a dark-blue form fitting, unique cassock: One that didn't drag all the way to his ankles, leaving room for better movement. Over the cassock he wore a thin paletot, one of a darker nuance, much like his suiting pants.

A single object of religious relation, a golden cross, sat around his neck to at least attempt at selling the idea of priest. Because this one sure as hell wasn't one, Izuku kne that much, no priests dealt with monstrous unnatural, yet scientific phenomenon and domains. At least, he thought that to be right?

The man, was presumably in his middle forty's, going by specific wrinkles of the mouth's corners, chin, forehead and cheeks. His hair was dark brown, and kept a little longer than short. His features were considerably sharp, in the sense that they appeared as if haphazardly and straightly cut from stone.

Long and somewhat crooked at the middle nose; thick eyebrows; normal shaped eyes housing a dark brown of murky depths, calmly and lifelessly weighed Midoriya; prominent cheekbones could be seen beneath straight and stretched cheeks; prominent jawline framed face ended at his round chin; and a long slim mouth sat in perpetual stillness.

His look was rigid and neutral, inexpressive, giving no clue if he was friendly or hostile; calm or angry; frigid or compassionate. It only transmitted dismay when maintaining eye contact for too long.

Now then…who would break the ice was to be seen.

…. .

…. .

…. .

An almost imperceptible movement of his mouth's ends to tease a smile went by unnoticed…almost for Illyana, since she expected as much from him. As for Izuku, the mute trepidation he was subjected to under the scrutinizing gaze of the Iudex and dim lighting didn't permit him such an observation.

" I am Nikolas Apogeu. What is your name, unfortunate man?"…..booming, low and crystal clear! His voice was somberly deeper than All Might's and unlike his: this voice didn't peak at some points. No, instead it monotonously kept its stern and unflinching tone.

It sent shivers down Izuku's damaged spine just from his introduction. His…eyes…voice?...mannerism? Everything about him spelled wrong to associate with. Emanating a miasma of oppression with his very presence, Izuku was 'fondly' reminded of his previous emotions, experienced when close to death along his time at the academy.

" I am Artorias." The U.A. student was aware he didn't provide a satisfactory response, but to come up with a surname on the spot would only disadvantage him now and in the future, he was bound to be researched. So he'd play the anonymous card as well as he could.

" Artorias? Hm! Hm-hm!" an emotionless very short laugh was Izuku's response.

" Then, I assume you desire answers for the events you dragged yourself into, Artorias?" apparently he was deemed the right to cut straight to his interests.

" Yes, I am knowledgeable enough to piece the puzzle a little. But I'd like to know more specifics about the miracle that saved me", here it was, going in the deep end and hoping for the best. Now Izuku was to try and fair as best as possible and maintain his composure, as Illyana advised him.

" Hooh? Your topic is serious indeed", with a sly smirk that bore ill-fate, an amused shade colored the false priest's words.

" Very well! Artorias, to know such lore is something worth spilling blood for! And once conferred, is not a thing one can walk away from", with a hurrying pace, the Iudex listed off Izuku what he might desire to know before he'd continue to press on for answers.

At least he hoped that was what the case. How did this guy even know of what happened, specifically? Izuku could reason for Illyana having informed about him as to avoid further trouble, but he doubted that she could have explained in detail, that he had yet to know, of what ensued in the cemetery. Anyway he put it, this guy was very well informed, enough to know what he wanted most likely.

The 'priest' having advanced towards Midoriya, stood no more than a meter close. And his presence became all the more evident, feeling as if the air would freeze still within the young man's lungs.

" Until your very end, you won't be freed by this ordeal. Within these affairs you seem to have fallen in, are you certain you wish to see what lies at the end for you?"

So what now? This time he was presented with only two choices:

One: He could abandon what happened tonight and lived through, as just a freak accident. Moving on with his life as he did before, leaving only Kota to retain some inklings more than the average victim of this night. And depart of what teased promise at his ideals, along with Illyana.

Two: He could accept the consequences, keep his mouth shut like he never even had one, and pursue what glimmered and called in the deep unknown darkness, that held no illusion for a predestined path. All the while retaining his newly familiarized ally, fully capable to put Kota at ease by knowing what to come up with.

Perhaps, it was worth it! Perhaps it balanced the weight on the other end! There was no thing as bad knowledge, only bad use. His incandescent ambitions churned as when only All Might bothered to give him hope, perhaps even more, enchanted with the idea of amassing more and better knowledge.

He couldn't know the intentions of the Iudex, but he definitely knew he'd explain what he'd ask for. Even if enigmatically, it would have been enough. No doubt there was something for him to win through this whole ordeal. After all, why even bother with him if he presented no resource or worth?

But that was good to realize. It only meant that the false priest had to work and do something in exchange for what he sought, thus it utilized the principles of economy.

Silver lining was: Izuku would follow through with seeking the truth 'till the end.

Perhaps one would expect for a foreboding meaning behind this choice. But truth be told, the same is applied for every choice. And more notably: There is no path to follow. There's just ourselves.

" I agreed to make an oath of secrecy, and have no intention to do wrong by it. I won't leave", and there it was! Once the agreement made, there remained no way out of this cesspool of many, many horrible, psychological and physical trials! All to reach an answer!

A half smile appeared, more intrigue than amusement causing it. The lifeless eyes flickered. His back straightened inconsiderably, and his arms fell by his sides. The Iudex…seemed pleased to hear this answer.

" Admirable devotion to fall upon in adventuring untutored throughout the unknown. But, this aspect greatly pleases me to trust you'll do well with your oath. As you've grown far too involved, even before being brought here, there is no need to attempt any violent action. I am to assume you possess the necessary mental brightness to realize you'll repay this improper initiation?" as expected, a more severe drawback, and a possible confirmation.

Izuku suspected that if he were to refuse, than he'd simply be reduced to silence. Everything he was revealed to, proved to be as important as he'd appraised it. Then it was best to avoid any provocative option he could answer with.

" Furtive Artorias, allow me to officially welcome you in the Moonlit-World. A title, given to characterize the nature of the World studied by magi, such as the ones referenced by young Illyana no doubt", he kept some vagueness as it was expected, no surprise there. Izuku wouldn't bite more than he could chew for now.

" I've explained enough to Artorias to not waste anymore time than necessary Apogeu. Can you just clarify the details of the last events?" Illyana didn't fail to jump and intervene the moment she saw Nikolas repeating what she was capable to divulge at will, and did.

By earning a conditioned permission to be included, she could fill the role of informant here. But she couldn't outright overrule the 'priest'… agreements, authority and all. It tended to put some stoppers many times in life.

She knew he'd prioritize his faction's agenda from the beginning, she just didn't know to what end. And him, being accepting enough as he was with the present young man was telling he moved accordingly to his intentions.

" Mmmh, patience, young Illyana, it wouldn't do for me to neglect our guest of necessary knowledge. There is no reason to conceal reality anymore", spoke the Iudex with a hint of elation his wisely 'covered' words.

Izuku spared a glance at the girl behind him to see her keeping her arms folded and wearing a somewhat impatient expression. Remarkably however, she appeared somewhat uncomfortable, her pale, living yellow eyes dilated and could be easily spotted in the moonlit church. Her face didn't look clouded, in fact quite the opposite, no doubt a little trick to not give away her true thoughts by the grimaces one could make.

" Then, to spare you time, for your undoubtedly need of rest, I, shall illuminate the truth", no one, no matter its stupidity or ego, couldn't mistake the… gleefully sinister nuance used to specifically deliver this announcement.

…. . … .

Before Izuku could feel his heart beating as only during intense physical strain, now though, it felt thumping viciously in his ears and neck. He was too scared to check if those pulses could be seen disrupting the surface of the bandages, for it might have been true, and only admit his fear to the presence he was warned not to show such emotion.

" As I am most sure, you must be confused by the term of false circuits, Epic Soul and some technicalities. The latter though, I can safely presume you're smart enough to piece, after some context?" returned to an impassive look, the fake priest decided it would do Izuku better if he backed off to put some space. Thank God for that! Now he stood closer to one of the few lower leveled, unremarkable windows to regard him.

Midoriya could only nod as he looked at the murky deep dark eyes – freaky – but what else could he do?

" To make clear and reduce, whatever illogical interpretation of the modern world's existence of quirks, as a beginning: There was no such thing as a mutation or manufactured virus, by some weapon developing forces, to bring them about. In reality it was an attempt at solving an age old pursuit of answers. A remarkable magi family, the very same kind you were told about, inhabiting a now demolished country, risked everything within our laws and society to achieve their ends"

" Tests and loopholes were made to cover their plan as just a result of nature's chaotic cesspool of genes. China and its numerous inhabitants served as the perfect place to pardon them. I presume you know of the first case, yes?" Izuku responded through a nod. His hands minutely shook, and his body lightly trembled. It was happening again. What he knew was never the full truth. Once more his understanding was remolded as done by All Might, abruptly pulling the carpet of security from beneath him.

" Since you live in these days as any other, there is no need to talk about their success. Unfortunately this man made case, brought them no results. Even if it would have… it wouldn't have lasted for them enough to enjoy it. As for how the quirks were made? Their idea of quirks was loosely based upon the conceptual metaphysical organs, possessed by a magus. The originals being named Prana Circuits"

There it was, the bridge between what he caught eye of earlier in the room, and what he possessed! Midoriya's focus in this moment was unparalleled to any other moment of his life. Maybe save for when he was desperate to live not too long ago and other times alike.

" The best association you can make to them, would be your very own nerves and neural pathways" That! That was he did! Or better said, what he came to refine! Everything presented to him, fell as puzzle pieces to fill the gaps.

" Only, of course, their existence wasn't planned for achieving the same functions as their progenitors: Settling their design for only minute or somewhat impressive augmentations and uses."

" Because they don't possess the right to mold and bend the laws and nature of the World, correct?" finding his courage, Izuku decided to transform this monologue in an actual dialogue.

Crinkles at the eye's ends and corners of the mouth transmitted the 'priest's' contentment at seeing the shawl and bandage covered man to not dumbly glaze over the explication. God knew, this perhaps would finally bring conclusion!

" Precisely! To enumerate what uses could be achieved through the prana circuits would be premature as of now. What you must know, and most likely yearn, is that you merely were capable to interact with the creature that attacked. And the most that you could ever do is but that. To be frank, you and no one else who possesses quirk organs/false circuits could have achieved more, indifferent of their variation", this once and for all settled whatever hope was held by Izuku that he could have actually done more than previously. It was extremely bitter to realize there were things that simply stood outside mortal boundaries to achieve.

But not all of his faith was demolished, as he very clearly remembered to have overcome that obstacle through some means.

" And for me, that must have been where the miracle intervened to give me kindred abilities. I know it was an Epic Soul, but…how can bring him back?" it was difficult to decide what to say next. Midoriya could very vividly remember the foreign memories he beheld, in fact he could still recall them. So there was no problem about him eventually discovering the identity of the summoned Hero.

What he wanted to know is how he could repeat the phenomenon. This time, if possible, without the need of a crisis, a monster, him dying and something about the World's intervention.

" Hmm. Quick to latch on specks in the dark I see. Hm-hm-hm", not exactly what he'd hope, Izuku was suddenly made aware of the desperate tendency he was perhaps showing. Was he that bad in these kind of situations?

" Understandable, as uniquely that little facet allows you to dabble in our matters", a stinging remark at his unsatisfying incapacity to be as capable as them. But all too true, just as his previously quirkless life. This time however, he could grow into something. There had to be some ways.

" Well, to set aside the bad news you'd have inevitably discovered. Most likely your quirk, has been remarkably damaged beyond repair. And knowing all too well about such a thing's more fickle specifics, it will continue to provide some use, but certainly it won't ever act as it did before. That's no if, I'm afraid."

'…. What?...No! No! NO! Wh-why, how did…?!'

" How is that possible?" the close to broken, panicked voice of Izuku resounded in the chapel, created a distinguishable cacophony against the sinister music. Temptation to scream and jump at the 'priest's' neck surged within Izuku!

How could it not? That sorry quirk was given to him by All Might; by his mentor; by his model! It represented his possibility to attain his dreams! To fulfill his meaningless life! Now squandered!

He didn't think straight for a second or two. Inhaling and exhaling deeply until his mind grew fuzzy.

Shaking, as if suffering from Parkinson's disease.

Experiencing waves of feverish heat and somber chills.

He felt one moment panicked; in another he felt desperate; in another he felt stupefied... finally he felt emotionless and obsolete.

Cold and non-existing hands rested on his shoulders for an almost unnoticeable breath of time.

Composure. Composure, he wouldn't do anything scared and crazed. There was no one to blame here. Not even himself; he didn't even know this would happen.

He needed further context.

" Could you tell me how that happened? And how can you ascertain that fact?" calm and controlled. ' Push on Midoriya! Keep calm!', chanting to himself would perhaps provide some support.

" There is no need to examine for your quirk's state. As we established earlier, the very nature of the higher laws can overwrite the thread of reality. This is no different. Far from it, it's the only result to expect: As your quirk was used as a poor substitute for prana circuits in the process of convoking the Epic Spirit, it became withered in exchange. You couldn't have possibly expected for there to be no consequences, now did you?"

" Didn't we also agree on quirks not being able to fulfill these higher functions? How, then was that event achieved?"

" Artorias, that is the problem! Quirks can't fill the spot! But they aren't excluded from attempting such things. The reason of why yours must have done so much must be due to its nature" picked up Illyana immediately. This back and forth didn't go anywhere, and she wished to end this charade if possible.

" While I was patching you up, I gained a gist of your quirk's character. Fortunately for you, it already inclined towards a soul associated nature. And it already seemed to hold a reliable pool of resources to draw from: Most likely another contributor to have saved you."

So that was why! The dejected man would exhale a heavy and crestfallen sigh if he'd be alone, but no such luxuries could be allowed yet.

" As for the Hero, there are residual traces of his quintessence left in your circuits, so most likely very well present, but we can talk about that later", there was that little glimmer of hope remaining for Izuku. Maybe the Epic Soul could give him some closure or help. If he was capable enough to deal with that abomination, summoned as bad as he was, then maybe…maybe he'd know what to do?

Though, until then…Izuku felt absolutely broken. A small mental check rewarded him with a thrum of One For All responding to his call. The hammer fell... and the searing sensation that would become pleasant warmth was…

….. different altogether.

Instead of mighty, surging strength…. it felt pathetic! More as if Izuku struggled to stave old cinders. Trying to form the necessary flame fit for a forge, but only flickers of flame would twist and grovel for release from duty.

" If you worry about the use of your abilities, do not fret. The both of us are capable in our own respect to help you salvage your situation. Considering the use of your license, if I'm not mistaking, you intend on being a hero. And although you unknowingly caused this night's problem, you do happen to contribute greatly in exchange. Enough to be worth my assistance, and to be given a chance."

This was the decision and logic followed tonight by the Iudex.

Izuku suffered greatly and overjoyed greatly. He lost greatly and earned greatly.

It was the trade of life. And it was what he settled for. Who knows what would've happened if he refused pursuing it.

And there was no way to reverse the time. No way to redo what he committed. Even with Eri to consider, that was a great NO! Izuku wasn't about to risk causing her pain, be it mental or physical, by exposing her to such elements.

Who could know the repercussions? He was already beyond reparable.

And more importantly: he didn't like playing God, to rewrite or dispose of what happened. As tragic and horrible something might be, once happened, to somehow even attempt at nulling was not right for him.

If he were to do such, then what was the use and worth of living? What would've been the scope of purpose then? What would've been the worth of all the legends and myths he assimilated?

He'd live with it! And he'd move on with it. Still reaching for his ideals, as he did from the moment he could understand their importance.

Besides…he lived through worst! Once he tried to look for ways of doing it while quirkless! Now, there were no excuses for him not to continue. There were no excuses to walk further than he did before.

" I think I learned enough tonight sir. So if possible, can we continue this another time? I promised to repay for what I learned and caused, so we can start tomorrow", with all of this, maybe there was finally about time to call it an end. No matter how many surprises he would receive, his tired mind and body couldn't continue forever. Especially not now, there was no way not to have overexerted himself already.

" That is agreeable. I hold no expectations from a, should be dead, man in your condition. For such an eye opener, you've handled yourself well enough. You can rest in one of the sanctum's rooms, along with your charge. As for clearing any confusion left or possible questions, I recommend you acquaint yourself with the Archer's paradox. That would be all for now."

At long last. Passing through the first wall of storm, living with apprehension in its calm eye, and finally braving through its final disaster, he would have time to pick himself up and salvage something out of his broken self.

... ... ...

Following Illyana towards the door they came through, most likely back to the room where Kota slept, the priest said one last thing.

A thing that was spiritually passed through age after age, signaling foreboding times and warnings, was honored upon Midoriya, as he made himself rightful of it. But he knew no better of it.

" Remember, Artorias! There is no scope to achieve without adversity!"

" Rejoice, young man! For your answer shall arrive!"

The door was left open as Izuku continued to walk after he momentarily stopped in place to hear out what the creepy priest had to say. Leaving him behind as he walked further to stare at his retreating form.

This must have been the first 'priest' ever came across, and…it didn't left him wanting to encounter others, for sure.

Short minutes and stale silence made the walk back quick in comparison to earlier, perhaps other emotions were to blame than. Now it was once more, only him, Kota and Illyana.

This would be as good a time as any:

An abrupt turn made by Izuku, although not comfortable yet with his back, caught the beautiful girl's attention as he extended his arm for a handshake. Out in this craze, filled with abominations, lies, legendary entities and cunning assholes, like the priest and whatever lurked in the unknown. This was the wisest choice.

" Izuku Midoriya, I'm glad to meet you Illyana."

" Figured as much. Well…what is there to say? You've gotten dragged in things way out of your league, but that was your choice. Phhmm…", a nice and objective resume for him was made in a few short sentences, ended with a tired and burdened exhale by the girl. No doubt it was used to ease a bit the air, but didn't fail to remark the seriousness of the situation. " While I've gotten my work, it now includes your involvement, so we're in the same boat for now."

" Thank you for the trust Izuku. I am Illyana Zepter, glad to meet you. You can call me Illya, for short."

And with the shake of a hand, this meeting established the moment in life that promised the birth of a person, who would end up traversing the barren fields of Earth, endlessly pursuing an ideal. As many other fools did before him. Many from which, one's fate was terribly close to be repeated or, resulting in an end all too different. History was made only by time and committed action.

There were many possibilities for this journey to end.

But that…will come to pass when it will be confronted. Now, maybe just to rest and talk… would be more than welcome!

We all are weary and feeble beings at the end of the story after all.

And as we've done since the dawn of our soul, we retreat for comfort to rest and converse among us: As the bonfire within us calls for.

Tonight, felt as years. What would follow would feel close to an eternity. And as much as it will entail…it would be just as rewarding and condemning.

In this world there was no safe haven or peak to achieve in order to promise safety and incontestability.

In this world…where, as in every other day, you pray to have done right.

Here is!

To the best of steps to be taken!

To find the answer of….of an outcome!

In a basilica of old, where a monumental event happened, dragging with it the innocent was irrevocably conceded. Not brought about by the cruel lady Fate, but brought by one simple human's own actions, and assumed respectfully as they befell him.

…If you're afraid of the night, than brave through its depths. It was the best, the weary, weak, worn and scarred Izuku could do. He held no certainty of what was out there anymore.

But he'd continue through it.

At least, he wasn't left alone at the mercy of the fate's winds.

… ... .

… . ... ...

And so…for this burdened soul…Let Strength Be Granted

Thank you all for the praise and voiced desire to continue reading this story. The reviews you've given me are without a doubt the best reward and part of this little journey. Thank you sincerely once more, for finding worth in this more unfound type of tale.

- thank you Za Warudo, for recognizing the sources used for lore as well, it is a precious rarety for me to have stumbled upon you. As for finding this writing worth recognition? While I don't believe it to deserve so much, your wish didn't fail to make my day. May the Sun Praise You!

- tahnk you HankFlamion18, for your detailed and honest reviews, since the begining they never failed to reward me with pointers and advice. And they especialy amaze me to find them so personally invested. Sincerely, thank you for the constant support. May the Sun Praise You!

- thank you Langas, to discover that somehow this trudgeding tale manages to capture attention, fowever little, is a great recompense. Thank you for your curiosity and praise. May the Sun Praise You!

Should anyone have questions, that remained unclarified, don't fail to message me about them.

Until we meet again: take care and continue to move towards great days.