For a long time, Siegfried was completely unaware of anything going on around him, in a state that was almost like sleep. Eventually, however, his awareness began to return. He slowly regained the abilities of subjectivity, self-awareness, and sapience. He was a sentient being once more.

His recent memory was the last thing to return, so before he felt an urgent need to know what his current situation was, he observed his surroundings, which he was slowly gaining the ability to comprehend. He could see the ocean. The water was calm, and looked very clear and blue. So did the sky. Bright sunlight streamed down in between fluffy white clouds. The scene was beautiful, but it seemed wrong somehow. Siegfried knew that he wasn't supposed to be in a beautiful scene. He was supposed to be in a storm.

The storm...Pirate ship...Cervantes...Soul Edge!

His memories of last night returned like a thunderbolt that had just shot through him, and his sense of urgency returned just as quickly. What had happened last night? He was alive - he had no idea why Cervantes would have allowed him to live. Had he let the others live, as well? Were the others alive?

Siegfried gripped the railing of the ship, pulled himself up to his feet, and then looked around the deck of the ship. The first person he saw was Ivy.

Ivy was sitting with her knees pulled up to her chest. She appeared to be looking off into the distance, as if she was focusing on something far away, even though there was nothing to be seen on the horizon. The look in her eyes was difficult to read. She seemed somber and depressed. Her body was covered in scars, most of which were crudely bandaged, but she was alive, so Siegfried turned to look for the others.

He saw Tira, seemingly pinned to one of the ship's masts by her own ringblade. She was limp and unmoving, and because her ringblade was at her neck, it seemed as if she had been killed.

"Tira!" Siegfried cried out in alarm and fear.

"Don't worry. Tira is fine. I checked her earlier. Sophitia is fine, too."

Siegfried almost did not recognize the voice. It had come from Ivy. Her voice sounded so different - usually, her speech brimmed over with arrogance and coldness. Now, she sounded humble, and somewhat...sad.

Siegfried wondered if her gloominess had been caused by the loss of the Soul Embrace. "Ivy - what happened last night?"

"The Soul Embrace is fine. It's in the hull of the ship, exactly where we last left it." She said, detecting his unvoiced anxiety and answering it. "Cervantes is gone, and so is the blade of Soul Edge that he wielded."

"...What do you mean by 'gone'?"

"Gone. Gone forever. I killed Cervantes last night."

"Can you be sure? He already came back from the grave once before."

"No, I am certain that this time that will be impossible. I removed all shards of Soul Edge from his body, and in the state it was in the last time I saw it, his body is now more likely to be consumed by the creatures of the sea than reformed by Soul Edge."

Ivy had not given Siegfried the graphic details of her encounter last night, but Siegfried could infer from what she had said so far exactly what she had done to him last night.

"...I see. And what of that blade of Soul Edge? Was it shattered? If so, then it can be reformed, and-"

"It was not shattered. I broke pieces of it off, and one by one, I grinded them into dust. They were scattered by the wind and rain. Perhaps this area will be contaminated by evil for years to come, but I strongly doubt that the blade will ever re-form."

Siegfried gave a long sigh of relief. But there was still something wrong - why did Ivy seem so melancholy? Siegfried would normally not have bothered to ask, but since she was so talkative and calm at the moment, he attempted to find out. "...Ivy, it seems that all is well, and that we have reason for rejoicing. Why do you seem so downhearted?"

There was a short silence before Ivy spoke. When she responded, Siegfried thought her voice to be just a little off - like it had a single string out of tune.

"Siegfried - am I - garbage?"

"...What...?..."

She rose to her feet, and turned around to face Siegfried. He could see a deep distress on her face.

"If a person is born to serve a purpose - but they can't serve that purpose - then are they a failure?"

Siegfried was taken by surprise by her sudden question. He tried to figure out what was behind her question, and what she could be talking about. His hesitation caused her to continue to speak.

"If someone can't serve the purpose they were born to fulfill, then does that make them useless? Worthless? Should they never have been born in the first place?" She was almost trembling now, and it seemed as if she was on the verge of tears. "Are they a waste? Trash? Garbage?"

"Ivy, stop." Siegfried said. He had little clue how to answer her questions, but could see that it would be unhealthy for her to continue speaking. She was obviously talking about herself. But why would she be thinking these things? What purpose was she speaking of? Siegfried knew that Ivy was a potential host for Soul Edge. He guessed that her encounter with Cervantes, a former host of Soul Edge, had reminded her of that fact, and now she was questioning her own existence. Siegfried knew that there was likely much more that he did not know of, but he would try to comfort her as much as he could.

"...No, Ivy." Siegfried began. "I do not think that someone is a failure if they cannot serve the purpose they were born for. No one is a failure based on the circumstances of their conception. If one was born to serve a wicked purpose, and they fulfilled it, they would deserve no praise for that deed. If they had decided against serving the wicked purpose they were born for, I would think far better of them. And if they deny their original wicked purpose to replace it with a new one that will better mankind, then they are truly an admirable person."

For a short while after Siegfried had finished speaking, Ivy remained silent, standing still, but trembling slightly. Slowly, she seemed to have more and more trouble keeping herself composed, until she could no longer hold her tears back. Once the first one fell, she let them flow freely. "...Th-thank you...S-Siegfried..."

Siegfried smiled. "...It's no problem, Ivy."

Ivy's body seemed tense and ready to move, yet she stayed in one spot. Several times, she seemed as if she might move forward, but she stopped. Siegfried wondered if she was contemplating an embrace. He would not have rejected one. He opened his arms ever so slightly as a semi-invitation, and Ivy noticed and interpreted the gesture. She immediately dashed forward, pressed herself against his chest, and threw her arms around him. Siegfried gently returned her embrace, and let her sob against him. It was so very uncharacteristic of her - he could tell that her battle with Cervantes had been a traumatic experience indeed, although he knew there were most likely details he was unaware of.

A short while later, Ivy had recovered. "Thank you, Siegfried..." She said again. "And, I'm sor-" Her sentence came to a sudden halt, as if someone had clasped a hand over her mouth. Siegfried looked down at her.

"Ivy...?"

"...The last time I said it, I was being insincere, so I don't see any reason for you to believe me this time. ...Never mind."

Siegfried inferred what she had been about to say. He believed that she was being sincere this time - but would not pry any further.

The two of them then decided to wake the others, and explain to them that Cervantes and his blade of Soul Edge were gone. Once Tira and Sophitia had been brought back to consciousness and informed of the current situation, it seemed that only one issue was left unresolved - the Soul Embrace.

If the power to destroy Soul Edge was a false dream, then the only thing left to do was to seal it away where no one could reach it. There were many hard-to-reach and dangerous places across the world, but as long as Soul Edge was on the face of the Earth, it would still be possible for a very determined soul to reach it. There appeared to be only one solution to their dilemma - the ocean. Currently, there was no known feasible method for retrieving an object that had sunken to the bottom depths of the ocean.

Siegfried stood on the edge of the deck of the ship, where the railing had been broken. In his left hand, he grasped the Soul Embrace, and held it out over the water.

It seemed like such an unfitting and anticlimactic end to a journey that had spanned so many miles, so many months, and so much blood, sweat, and tears. Something he could have done immediately after regaining his will - taking a boat out into the ocean and simply letting the thing fall into the water.

No - it had been much more than that. Because of the choices he had made, Tira was his servant. There was no telling what path Tira would have gone down if it had not been for their meeting. Because of the choices he had made, Ivy had come to terms with her existence. Because of the choices he had made, Kilik had become a master of purification. Because of the choices he had made, Cervantes and his blade of Soul Edge had been completely destroyed.

Yes - he had taken the correct paths. He had made the right decisions. It would not have been the same if he had merely thrown Soul Edge into the ocean earlier. He had helped many people. There were no more loose ends. Their journey was ready to come to a close.

He wondered if there were some words he should say before he let the Soul Embrace fall. A eulogy for the end of Soul Edge, and of their journey. He tried to think of one, but appropriate words failed to come to him. He had been hesitating for too long now, and the end of Soul Edge was long overdue - he would let the splash of water as it plunged into the ocean be its eulogy.

He opened his left hand, the hilt of the deformed sword slipped from his grasp, and the Soul Embrace began to fall...

---

Zasalamel looked down at his prize.

The Soul Embrace lay before him, on the floor of the ocean. He was standing in what appeared to be a giant bubble, floating a few feet away from the deformed sword in front of him. Creating a protective sphere such as the one he was standing in was no difficult feat for a mage of his prowess. It took a fair amount of willpower to sustain the sphere against the water pressure at the bottom of the ocean, but it was worth it.

He drifted closer to the Soul Embrace, until it came into contact with his sphere. Instead of popping the 'bubble', the Soul Embrace phased inside of it, and once it had entered the sphere completely, it sat at the bottom.

Zasalamel grinned, and picked up the Soul Embrace, but did not perform the ritual - he did not want to do it here at the bottom of the ocean. He ascended at a high speed, faster than the watercraft of the future would ever move. Once he had emerged from the surface of the ocean, he dispersed the bubble. Now that he was no longer expending his willpower on sustaining the protective sphere, he could allocate his will to another magical feat - instantaneous travel.

In the blink of an eye, Zasalamel was no longer floating above the sea. He was now hovering inches above the stone floor of a cathedral.

The Cathedral resembled many others, yet was like nothing else. A magnificent palace that seemed to contain every form of architecture known to Europe. No one knew who made it, or where it was located. Only those with a strong will and a willingness to bet their own lives could reach it - and thus Zasalamel stood at its center. The great volume of water that flowed through the temple was always circulating and pure, making it the perfect stage for the act that was soon to ensue.

Zasalamel laid the Soul Embrace on the floor of the temple, and stepped back.

He closed his eyes, and concentrated deeply on his next feat. The deed he was about to perform was a secret and forbidden art that had been difficult to obtain and even more difficult to master.

His body began to glow with a purple hue. His clothing swayed from the energy that was emanating from him as if a wind was blowing through the Cathedral. There were a few pebbles lying on the floor of the temple - slowly, they began to tremble, and then gently break into fragments. The fragments slowly began to float upwards into the air, reaching a height of about four or five feet before they broke apart further until they were dust.

Suddenly, Zasalamel's body jerked. He had mastered the art, but it was still extremely painful to connect to the Abyss.

The Abyss. The unbounded space and formless matter that existed before the creation of the universe. It is the opposite of law and order: unrestrictive, both creative and destructive. Primal emptiness, a gaping, wide-open chasm. The Abyss.

Zasalamel's body was now connected to the world of the Abyss. Without hesitation, he moved on to the next step. He created a sphere - but not like the protective bubble he had made earlier. The sphere, about the size of one's head, was jet black in color. The unique property of this sphere was that, being of the Abyss, it absorbed all forms of energy. Zasalamel's slowly began to use the sphere to draw out the essences of the swords and take them into his body. It was an act that only Zasalamel, with the knowledge gained from an eternity of lifetimes, could have performed.

Clusters of light, most pure and fierce, were released from the swords. For a moment, they seemed to struggle as if they had a will of their own, but then proceeded to be absorbed into Zasalamel's body. Power coursed through has entire body, and he began to transform.

His body drastically changed shape to accommodate his new power. His skull expanded in size greatly, until his skin no longer fit over it. Eventually, his skin split and was torn off, but Zasalamel showed no signs of pain. Fang-like protrusions grew from his forehead, curving upwards, giving the appearance of a crown. His right eyeball was forcefully ejected from his head, but the golden orb in his left eye socket stayed. His nose fell away to be replaced by two small rows of teeth, and his chin was turned into a large row of teeth itself. Two horn-like protrusions grew from the sides of his head. From his shoulders, three wing-like flaps grew.

The rest of his skin split apart and fell away as well as his body grew in size. There was little flesh visible at all on his head and shoulders, but his chest and arm muscles were visible. His rib cage was exposed, and sitting inside of it was the Abyss sphere, both evil and pure energy swirling inside and around it. The skin from his torso up hung down around his waist like a crude loincloth. His limbs had many spiked bone-like protrusions, and were very muscular. The scythe he had been holding in his right hand had undergone a similar transformation - it seemed to be composed of a spiked spinal cord, was held together by muscle-like fibers, and the blade of the scythe was pure evil energy, glowing a dark purple.

At the end of an experience completely different from his countless rebirths, he had obtained sharpness of sense, overflowing power, and a voice that thundered like an echoing roar. Zasalamel thought that, having acquired this power, his goal had been achieved. The peace and death that he had sought was right before his eyes. But deep within him, something other than himself was beginning to awaken. He had invited into himself an inhuman power...

...The Abyss itself.

Zasalamel's wish was far from granted. He watched as his left arm moved without his command. His fingers curled, and then clenched into a fist. His head moved, surveying his new, godlike body. He held out a hand. Black and purple wisps of energy swirled around it as he gathered power. Once he'd gathered a ball of energy as big as his fist, he let it loose. It shot off into the distance, out of his sight. Then, there was a brief flash of light, - and at the point it had disappeared on the horizon, a giant swirling black and purple sphere formed, annihilating everything within its enormous radius.

Zasalamel attempted to regain control of his body, but he could not. He belonged to the Abyss now.

The sun faded away as if overcome by evil, and though it was midday, the world became enshrouded in darkness. The energy released by the Abyss caused the powers beneath the earth to awaken. Billowing clouds and steam began to rise from the floor of the Cathedral - it had been built upon the nexus of the world's spiritual energy lines. The Cathedral's pure light took on an evil glow. The pure water swirled violently and grew muddy, releasing the odor of death. This once holy place was transformed into a violent land ruled by terror.

The evil energy that was released slowly began to spread across the face of Earth. Whenever it went, it began to twist the hearts of people. Everywhere the energy spread, the night of the Evil Seed was reenacted. It would take no longer than a day for the evil energy to spread across the entire world.

---

"NO!"

Siegfried's right hand shot out as a bolt of lightning, and grasped the hilt of the Soul Embrace before it dropped out of his reach.

"What?"

"Siegfried, what are you doing?"

"He used his right hand. Siegfried, you're not still under that thing's control, are you?"

Siegfried turned around. Ivy and Sophitia had drawn their weapons.

Siegfried's glance shot back and forth between the three women, all of who were staring at him with worry and anxiety.

"No - no, it isn't that." He said. "I had a – I think I had some kind of vision."

Siegfried began to describe to the women in strong detail the horrific vision he had just seen. Zasalamel using an unimaginable magic feat to reach the bottom of the ocean and retrieve Soul Edge. His teleportation to a cathedral, where he connected himself to another plane of existence and created a sphere that allowed him to absorb the powers of both Soul Edge and Soul Calibur. The hideous transformation that Zasalamel underwent, as well as the transformation that the world then underwent.

Tira, Ivy, and Sophitia listened attentively to Siegfried's story. Tira believed every word he said from the beginning. Ivy lowered her weapon, but kept her guard up, and was hesitant to believe him. Sophitia herself had received inspirational renderings from greater beings several times, and listened to his story with an open mind. By the end of his long speech, all of the women were quite convinced that he had been telling the truth. His account was far too detailed to be a lie or a delusion, and the threat his vision foretold was far too great to be ignored.

"...So, what this means is, dropping the Soul Embrace into the ocean is out of the question because of Zasalamel?" Ivy asked.

"Yes...but it's not only because of him. Our encounter with Cervantes taught us that even out in the middle of the great ocean, there were still those who seek the cursed sword...an object with the power to seduce the hearts of men from beyond the grave cannot merely be dropped into the ocean and abandoned. Unfortunately, we have no choice but to give up on sinking the sword into the ocean."

"I'm sorry." Tira said immediately. Siegfried was puzzled for a moment, until he remembered that dropping Soul Edge into the ocean had been her idea.

"You have no reason to apologize, Tira. You have not wasted our time. Because we traveled here, Cervantes and his blade of Soul Edge are destroyed, and we learned valuable lessons about Zasalamel and the Soul Embrace."

They had no more business in the ocean. They had paid attention to the crew's actions before Cervantes' massacre, and had gained the minimum amount of knowledge needed to operate a ship. They turned it around, and sailed it back towards land.

Their journey was not yet over.