Siegfried.
Who are you?
You can go home now, Siegfried.
How do you know that name!?
It's been many years, hasn't it?
I can never allow Soul Edge to used again. I am it's guardian for eternity.
You don't need to worry about it anymore.
It must be nice to be ignorant of the blade's power.
And where is your precious blade now? Go home, Siegfried.
He opened his eyes. His hand touched his forehead. It had been so long since someone had called him by the name his mother had gave him.
But it was only a dream. Nothing more.
He sighed and stood up. The temple looked the same. It hadn't changed once since he and the sword had taken up residence there. How long ago was that? Siegfried gave it some thought and quickly gave up. He'd lost count. Numbers weren't his strong point any way.
His memories started to come back. They always did. He brought his hands to the sides of his face. His breaths become short and rapid. He remembered the terrified expressions of the young and old as he cut them down. He remembered how he'd never heeded a plea for mercy- not once. He remembered how the burning villages filled the air with the smell of roasting meat- a smell that had made him salivate. He remembered his lieutenants Ivy and Astaroth, and how they'd formed an unholy trinity of death and murder. He remembered-
Where is your precious blade now?
Siegfried gasped. He stood up and dashed to the chasm where he'd discarded the sword of nightmares. He swallowed and peered over the edge.
Soul Edge was gone.
This is your fault, he thought. It will be your fault when the new owner begins to annihilate entire armies and peoples to feed the blade. Their blood will be on your hands. He sat down and pulled his knees up to his chest. He could feel his eyes growing watery. Siegfried sobbed.
After several hours he stood up. He marched to the back of the temple where he slept in and grasped the hilt of his old sword Requiem. It wasn't as heavy as Soul Edge. It reminded him of Faust, the blade he had used when he had successfully sought the sword of legend.
He tightened his grip on the hilt. He knew what had to be done.
"Never again," He whispered.