Author's Note: In my defense, Remnant of Void Flame (two chapters), Divine Resonance (two chapters), Trails in the Sea of Souls, Nexus of Fate, and Star's Salvation are already in the proofreading process, with around 5-8k words each, 46k-ish in total. Honestly, the only reason I wrote this story is because I got bored... that, and I thought it would be interesting, so... might as well, right? Okay, it's also a bit of a writing exercise. Don't expect too much out of this story though; I'm new to the series, and as such, there are bound to be plenty of mistakes. Like lots and lots of mistakes. Anyway, do keep in mind that this Acheron is more of a 'What if Acheron is a future version of HI3's Raiden Mei? One where she ended up inheriting all of the Herrscher's authorities yet somehow lost her memories along the way?' Not the best of premises, I know, but... eh, hopefully, none of the characters would act too OOC. (Go and read the story on Ao3 or s-battles for better reading experience; this platform lacks way too many features)
Disclaimer: Honkai Impact 3rd belongs to miHoYo; Honkai: Star Rail belongs to miHoYo; Worm belongs to Wildbow.
Origin of The End
Volume I - Prologue
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Darkness, heavy and oppressive, swallowed everything. A vague, fragmented vision flickered into being, like ancient memories clawing their way back onto the surface of her mind.
"Find me..."
It began with a blazing inferno. The heat was palpable, an all-consuming force that erased everything it touched. Red, scalding tongues danced and licked at the air, the roar a deafening cacophony that drowned out even the most desperate of screams. A beat passed before a crystalline blue, radiant yet tainted, appeared within the heart of the destruction. Its surface pulsed with a sinister light, tendrils of corruption snaking outward, tainting the very ground beneath the embers black; the gem throbbed with a malevolent life, promising power and ruin in equal measure. Still, it was then that she came, an oh-so-familiar, yet foreign woman wreathed in a flame of everlasting. Like a phoenix rising from its ashes, she hovered in the void, a beacon of undying light and life, unyielding in her vigil.
"Find me..."
A hand reached out, wounded and trembling, offering salvation to an individual unseen. The exchange felt ancient, a ritual of hope and despair intertwined. Regardless, they too vanished, swallowed by the shadows; the hand receded, empty but resolute. In the pitch darkness, a single butterfly emerged, its wings glowing with an ethereal light. Graceful and resolute, it fluttered silently, a fleeting promise of beauty and peace amidst the abyss — its flight leaving trails of luminescence in its wake.
They eventually led to a field of flowers, petals brushed by a gentle breeze. Among them stood a different woman with pink, flowing hair, her gaze serene and knowing. She looked at her — through her — as though seeing the very essence of her being. The field wavered, petals falling like whispers of forgotten dreams.
"Find me..."
And then, came the graying firmament... a mask of a smile, another hand outstretched.
"Your End. My Origin."
"From Finality, The Origin."
*Rumble, Rumble*
Her eyelids fluttered open, lashes catching onto the beams of white that filtered through the clouds above. The world slowly came into focus — an abandoned, dilapidated shrine, forgotten and overgrown with nature's relentless claim. Vines snaked up the wooden pillars, their once vibrant paint now chipped and worn away, revealing the gray, weather-beaten timber beneath. The air was thick with the scent of damp earth and decaying leaves, mingling with the musty smell of neglect.
She stood before the offering box, her posture rigid even as she loosened her grip on the umbrella — dark, purple hair cascading down her back, tips brushing against her thighs with each subtle movement. They swayed with the breeze, echoing the gentle rustle of the surrounding foliage. One eye remained concealed beneath her fringe, adding to the veil of mystery that her pale, almost ethereal skin naturally evoked. Her orbs of violet, with their unique diamond-shaped pupils and subtle pink highlights, stared unseeing into the depths of the weathered, and empty container; the sharp features of her face, usually composed and aloof, were softened by the faint, melancholic light of the morning kiss.
Nonetheless...
'... From Finality, The Origin.'
It was not the first time she had heard those words. The phrase itself resonated like the tolling of a distant bell, carrying with it a pervasive sense of familiarity; it stirred something deep within her, a forgotten fragment of her past. Even more so, she could feel her heart aching with an indescribable longing every time the phrase resurfaced, as if it held the key to a mystery she had yet to unravel. That she failed to remember the memory of when, where, and how she had first heard those words remained a perpetual thorn in her otherwise steadfast mind.
Still, at the very least, she could find solace in the fact that she would eventually unearth the origins of these whispered echoes. That woman, on the other hand... the pink-haired one she could vaguely recall, but the one wreathed in flame?
It was as if there was a mental block, that no matter how hard she tried, the details kept slipping through her fingers like grains of sand. No face came to mind, no voice echoed in her memories. She simply knew that this woman, shrouded in an undying fire, held with her an unfathomable importance. The weight of it all pressed against the confines of her consciousness, straining against an invisible barrier that denied her access; it gnawed at her, this uncertainty... how someone so pivotal could remain both faceless and voiceless within the labyrinth of her thoughts. If she could only remember her name, then perhaps the path forward would not become so-
*Ba-dump*
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K̵̡̦͙̦̳͓̽-̵̡̘̲̟̺͔̰̻̮̠̅͂̉͊̈̽̇͗͒̕ä̶͇̦̪͉́̀̓͆̕-̶̙͕̙̼͙͔̹͈͚̭̰̦̫̠́̒̈́̇̎̀͐̕ͅ-̴̧̗͔͖̺͖̫̪̙͚͇̙̜̆̀ͅ ̷̡̨̧̨͎̗̲̬͈͇̜͉̙̻̬̝̹̍͋ ̸̡͕̫͍̬͔͕̖̈́̋͆͜"̴̢̭͙̮͈̇̎͐̿̒̋̓́̕͜-̴̧͍̣̥͙̣͚͓̜͈̅͑̋́̚4̷̲̪̜̿͌͌͌̽̑̊̓͗͆̕2̷̨̨̢̺̞̰̬͚̱͎͈̳͎͇̥́̒͒̓̈́͌̈́͋̈̀̄́͊̕̚͝-̶̭̱̗̟̺͎͖̻̰̜̖̹̹̫͔̪͓̜̄̽̾́͗͋"̸̨̧̛̼̣̝͍̼̰̗̘̞̈́͛̈̀̅͑̚ ̷̧̢̡̛͇̹̮̻͉̥̟̤̙̤̭̞̫̃̊̋̈́͌̊̓Ḵ̶̢̛̩̞̉̀̊̐͊͂͛͛̈́̇̂̉̉͜͝͝à̸̛̘͍̜̺̮̟̠̓̈́̇̿͑͑͘ṣ̷͕͇̀̈́̅͛̈́͒̽̑-̵̧̗̤̖̘̤̩̱̭̀̎̾̇̊̓̚͠ͅ-̴̖̃̊͌̑̄ṋ̸͈̯̼̦̪͕͔̦̋͋̍̎̎̀͋͛̀́̊͑̔̅̚̕̚͜-̵̘͍̈́̅́͘
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"...!" Her knees buckled slightly, the world around her tilting as the sharp pain struck. '... no... not yet... there must be something...'
She caught herself on the edge of the offering box, the wood creaking under the pressure of her grasp. Closing her eyes, she began to draw for another breath. Images flickered at the edge of her consciousness, elusive and shadowed. She reached deeper, past the fragments of memories that seemed to taunt her. A face began to form; a voice began to murmur. Her heart quickened, each beat echoing with the urgency of discovery, and for a moment, she stood motionless, eyes shut tightly as the throbbing in her head-
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H̵̢̛̗̬̘͉̟̥͉̎̀̐̽͑̕͠e̶̡̛̙̜̻̯̦͎̞̗̫̞͙̞̺̅̀͑́̇̽͒̿͊͘̚͜͠͝͝ͅ-̸̛̤̗̖͓̻̳̆̓̉̽̽̓̇̍̉̈̏̚̚͠ͅ-̶̨̢̛̮̲̬̩͖̬̼̳͙̜̹̻̳̪͙̻̓͂̆̇́͐̋ş̶̧̧̩̼̦̙̪̞̖̩͔̖̗̋̉͜c̵̨̛̱̲̻̩͍͓͔̤̜͕̿̂̾̒̿̌͂͛̅̉̇͑̒̋͐̚͜͝h̷̛͚̠̩̖͎̾͊̾̉̊̓͜ͅ-̸̨̡̦̣̖͖̹̦̻̟̮͇͙̞͈̥͉̝͐͋̃̓͋̑̈̍̊͑̅̃̂̕̚̚r̸̠̯̘̱̼̀̀̈́̿̀͊́̽̅̌̓͆͆̂͘ ̴̡̢̼̹̙̺̲̞̣͍̜͕̘̦̝͚̭̯͒̔̑̄̓̽̕̕̚͝͝͠-̴̨̩̠̈̓͗̏̒͆̒̽̋͆̏̆f̴̻͚̭̩͓̳͈̪͋̾̂̅̂̈́̑̀̋̐̄̀̽̚̕̚͠ ̵̨̰̗̱̜͎̺͇̞̟͖̯̜̫̫̻̰̗̔̐̕-̷̢̺̺̝̫̼͗̆͒̐̈́̓̑̀͊̽̽̕͝͝į̸̨̛̝͔͕͖͎̙̫͙͕̲͆͋̔̚̕n̵̡̧̧͎̣̞̤̞̽̐͂̑̄̌́̿́͆̇͑͝-̴̨̳͉͈̻͉̼̼͕̖̥̻̔́̌̏̂͗͑̽̑̂̅͘͠͝ͅͅl̸̡̜͕͔͉̭̹̝̱̟͉͎̤̓̍͌́̇̿̐͠-̵̺͔̖̬́̇͗̃̀́̓͛̑͂̏̿̂̄͝͠t̷̢̧͈̜͚͕̮͇̦͔̟̯͎̪̓̌͒͒̉̈̆͋́̊́̚̕͜͝ȳ̵̧̱̗̙͎̍̃́̑̂̚
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-pulsed with an even greater ferocity.
"Nngh—!" She gasped, her left hand flying to her temple.
The lance of agony was immediate, a white-hot needle that pierced through her skull. Her vision blurred, and she stumbled back, the shrine and the surrounding forest fading into a haze of indistinct shapes and colors. It felt as if her mind was splitting apart, her consciousness crumbling under the strain of her desperate attempts. Regardless, she clenched at her teeth, posture straightening as a single bead escaped from the corner of her eye — the liquid tracing a silent path down a surface of alabaster.
Her body trembled with effort, its resilience pushed to its limits. Like a candle flickering in a tempest, she fought against the encroaching darkness, the tide of both memories and pain threatening to overwhelm her. She drew upon her inner strength, the last reserves of her willpower, and-
*CRACK*
-and just like that, they all shattered; the agony subsided, leaving her breathless and weak.
'... ah.'
The world returned to its muted colors and familiar shapes, but the details of her visions — the faces, the voices — they all had disappeared once more, slipping back into the depths of her mind like phantoms of a dream. Alone and bereft, she stood in the oppressive silence, the first droplets of rain beginning to fall. The sky wept — each tear mirrored in the tracks of moisture on her pale cheeks — and as she lowered her hand back to her side, her eyes locked onto the streak that marred the otherwise unblemished fabric of her glove...
... it was red.
'How negligent...' A single swiping motion rid her glove of the crimson stain, the blood splattering onto the cold, hard ground.
She watched as it mingled with the earth, creating a stark contrast against the damp soil. With a soft, almost imperceptible click, she opened her umbrella, the fabric unfurling before sounds of flapping wings reached her ears. From the periphery of her vision, two birds descended; wet and ruffled, they veered and found their perch upon her shoulder — the small creatures cooing and nuzzling against each other as they took shelter beneath the canopy of her wagasa.
"My, my... it is not often that one finds a Ranger / Self-Annihilator so lost in thought... then again, I suppose that too was a mistake, what with your kind's usual tendencies toward despair and solitude." The voice that came was a seductive whisper, barely louder than the rustle of silk in the wind. "Found what you need?"
"... perhaps." She summoned forth a fractal of light, the ethereal glow coalescing in her palm an object akin to a flower of crystalline pink.
"Mmm... you still haven't told me what that is supposed to signify... or how it relates to your abilities."
"Oh? I thought you would have known by now..."
"I would have... that is, if your past had not been so... difficult, to glimpse." The other woman's tone softened, a mix of curiosity and caution threading through. "Let us just say that I was not ready to risk it all just yet."
"Is that so?" Tilting her head slightly, she allowed the silence to stretch for a few seconds longer. "Think of it as a... legacy... and a promise."
"Good memories, then?"
"... in a way," her words were but an echo, eyes fixed on the delicate bloom as dozens of shards began to manifest. They danced and shimmered, a mass of cores that pulsed with a faint, yet transient incandescence before dispersing into a myriad motes — their luminescence fading under the veil of the falling rain. "Although they remain as elusive as ever."
"Now that is intriguing," came the lilting voice as the sound of footsteps grew ever closer, the rustle of fabric brushing against the damp air. "One could only wonder what kind of memories you are chasing. Do they truly hold the key to your past? Or are they simply remnants of what you once were?" A soft, almost inaudible sigh punctuated the question, like a gentle breath against the nape of her neck. "Why, I could almost taste it, that yearning of yours... but I digress; should you not be in the library? I believe we all agreed that you-"
*Chirp, Chirp*
The two of them turned their attention to the pair of birds perched on her shoulder. Their feathers shimmered in multiple shades of blue and pink, the colors blending and shifting like an aurora on a distant horizon. One of the birds, its beady eyes bright and inquisitive, brushed its wing against her cheek — the touch light and almost affectionate.
"Mmm?"
"... well, it appears our dear Songstress and her brother are now finished with their task. Not to mention, it seems like we are all finding what we seek, in one form or another... how delightful."
"... so it seems."
Shifting her gaze back to the shrine ahead, she allowed her eyes to linger on the ancient, decrepit structure. Forgotten and cloaked in the solemnity of time, it stood as a testament to what once was, its history etched into the weather-beaten planks and the overgrown vines. She felt a pang of nostalgia, a deep-seated sorrow for something lost beyond her reach... and yet, despite the encroaching melancholy, she could not deny that there exists a trace of warmth, a flicker of resolve that could be found even amidst this cold, and somber ruins.
Nevertheless, the future beckoned, and while her heart yearned for answers, she knew that to continue to dwell on the past would be to one day surrender to its grasp. The cool air filled her lungs as she turned, feet moving past the Memokeeper and down the winding trail of cobblestone. Her cape billowed gently in the breeze, its intricate designs dancing in the muted light as she moved away from the sacred-
"You do realize that you are going the wrong way, don't you, beautiful Ranger / Self-Annihilator?"
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"...?"
Proofreading and Editing by – (Try to send me a private message if any of you are interested).