Before me was an office desk and chair in a pure white room. On that chair was an elderly man in a suit almost identical to mine. His hair was as white as my surroundings. A short beard rested on his chin and hung a few inches lower.

He pierced me with pure golden eyes. I stared back. I can't even count how long we had this still and silent battle for. It was clear he wouldn't speak until I did. My body felt too numb and pained to keep it up, and I spoke.

"So. You don't look like an Arbiter, maybe a Claw? You don't have the mask or vials, though. Wait, are you the Head itself?"

There was a short pause before he shook his head and replied, his eyes fixed on mine. "I am no Head nor do I originate from your City. You are dead, Roland. I sit here merely as your guide post-mortem."

I had my suspicions, but it was nice, no, comforting… No word fits what I wanted to convey. At least he confirmed it. That's all.

"Like a ferryman, huh? Are you Charon? Odd, I always imagined him with a boat and a paddle rather than a businessman in… in this weirdly-bright-but-not-blinding place. I didn't think gods and whatever were real."

He smiled at my statement. Or, at least I think it was because of my statement.

"That is not my name, no, for I am one of those 'gods' you speak of. You may call me as such if you so wish."

I always imagined that if I ever met God or whatever it was watching over the City, I'd be a lot more, terrified? Concerned. Pleading not to descend into Inferno. Yet here I am, strangely calm.

"Right. Well, you already know my name, so I guess you're here to recount my sins and send me off to hell? I would say I'm not mentally prepared for that, but I guess that's on me for doing what I did."

He shook his head and stood, his arms behind his back as he crossed the ten feet between us. "I am not here to condemn you, Roland. I am not here to judge. You have lamented enough in life. To have you bask in the lakes of fire in the afterlife would be crueler than anything I can imagine."

A sigh escaped my lips. Of relief, I'm not even sure. It was breath leaving me. That's all it is.

"Then why are you and I here? I don't exactly have anything to do since I'm dead, and you're a god so time probably doesn't matter to you, but whatever it is, I just want it over with."

"I understand," he nodded. "I am here to offer you a choice."

A choice. I can't remember the last time I made any with a clear head. I gestured for him… them? It? I gestured for Charon to continue.

"The City is horrible, Roland. You have seen the depths of its cruelty. I can give you the choice of being reborn in it again, a new life. I will guarantee you a life of lavish in Nests and—"

"Yeah, just send me to those lakes of fire you were talking about," I replied instantly. Again, he nodded.

"I had suspected you wouldn't choose that." I wonder why. "Then, two choices are left before you. First, I can end all of your sufferings and let you ascend to heaven. All of your sorrows will end here, but so will your happiness. You will be an empty husk under the Sun for eternity, but you will be able to rest."

"Happiness, huh?" I laughed. "Right, like I had any of that left."

"I get it, Roland. I do. I have been watching over the City since its first second. But your time in the Library, you—"

"The Library is gone. Its purpose was nothing but to fuel my revenge. It's done now." I spat back. My karma was bad enough as is. Yelling at some divine being won't do anything more. Speaking of happiness like he understood that concept. Like he understood our collective suffering. At least Angela…

He, too, sighed. "I apologize for my poor choice of words."

"That term, 'I apologize,' is very different from 'I'm sorry,' you know. But, yeah, I guess I get what you mean." I calmed down, even if only a little. "Well, heaven doesn't sound so bad. What's this third one?"

"Reincarnation. With your current memories, your current self, into a world without the impurity of your City."

"Not interested. I'm not going anywhere if she's…" I paused.

For a long time, silence. "Do you… ferry everyone from the City? I can't imagine I'm a special case."

"I do."

If everyone who passes on is given this choice, then…

"Angelica. What did she choose?"

"She waits for you, Roland. In that world."

She's alive.

She's waiting for me.

"… I don't have much of a choice, then. You already know my answer," I said.

Again, a nod. "Think about it deeply, Roland. Once made, you cannot take back this choice."

"I already have and I'm going to see her again. I've already been through hell twice. Once before meeting her, and again after losing her. Whatever sorrows wait for me in that world, I will suffer them. I will see her again. Another Angela, another Library, another Smoke War. I don't care. I will go through all of that again if she's really—"

I stopped myself and took a long breath. I don't remember the last time I've done that. In and out, eyes closed and head towards the pure white sky. As pure as Angelica.

I spoke again once I was sure I regained my composure.

"I'm sure of it, Charon. I'm ready."

Snap.

Reminds me of Angela's.

The sound reverberated across this endless white expanse and in front of me laid dozens of brown papers, some with images and long descriptions. Some of these held strangely familiar names.

"The writing is not that of the City, but I have placed this world's knowledge inside you. Reading and communication will be of no issue."

It was concerning that he had the ability to implant knowledge into me in an instant, but I know my feelings well. I know which sorrows are mine and which ones aren't. I'll know if I had memories and feelings that weren't mine… I hoped.

"Holy Sword Arondight, Demon Sword Muramasa. These are swords from the City, no? And, also, what are these for? Advertisement?"

"No, not quite. Your City does possess weapons with the same name, and some with the same power, but these are not those weapons. As for their purpose, the world I will send you to is in relative peace, but is under attack by the Demon King. You may choose one of these legendary weapons or talents to bring with you."

"Hold on, I knew there was going to be a catch, but can you explain what's going on in that world?"

I lost interest halfway through his explanation. Some kind of demon is attacking the world and nobody wants to be reborn there, so the gods are sending the deceased from other worlds to combat them. That was the important part and any more was unnecessary..

"—and so, as aforementioned, you may choose these, or anything you may have in mind."

"There's a lot here so it's really hard to choose," I said with obvious sarcasm. "What about Angelica? Did she take anything?"

"Durandal."

His words grabbed my full attention in an instant.

"Huh, so my sword was also one of these legendary weapons of heroes?"

"Yes, but she did not choose any of that. Rather, she chose your sword specifically. Your Durandal."

"She… Even though I failed to protect her, she chose my weapon." I looked over all the options again. Many of them read like powers that could let me combat Zena and Baral on equal grounds and even win, but after hearing Angelica's choice, I knew what I had to ask for.

Even in my failure, she chose a weapon to remind me of her. Out of all of these borderline reality altering options, she chose Durandal—she chose me. The failure of a husband that left her.

I was almost won over by these choices, or even asking for the ability to use the Library's Light and books. But any other option would betray the faith and love Angelica gave me.

"Angelica's gloves and arsenal."

"And so it shall be done."

They materialized in my hands the same way the books did back in the Library, the feeling of her warmth in my hands.

"You are set now, Roland. Should you succeed in defeating the Demon King, we will grant you any wish you desire, but I know you have no intention of doing so."

As he announced those words, a blue circle formed around me and rose into a translucent cylinder. My feet lifted into the air.

"Roland. As I do not watch over that world, this may well be both our first and last meeting. Still, in our short meeting, I do wish that you find that which you lost. That you regain the life wrongly taken from you."

"I hope so, too," I replied bluntly. "I guess it was nice knowing you, however short it may have been. Oh, if you ever meet someone from Charles' Office, tell them… Ah, sorry, I'm just rambling now. See you, Charon!"

With those words, the old man gave me a wave as the blue light shined and my eyes were blinded.

No matter how far away she is, I'll find her again. If I have to take down this Demon King, I'll do it. For you, Angelica, I'll become stronger. No Arbiter or Claw will drive us away. No Pianist will harm you and our child.

No husband will leave you again.

The sunlight I have run after now hangs on the cross on the top of the church roof. The church spire being so high, how can I reach it? I suffered, even when the wind stirred the leaves. With my heart singing to the stars, I shall love all things that are dying. And I must walk the road that has been given to me.

I have lost. I knowing not what and where, my two hands grope along the pocket, long, onward. Stone after stone without end—the road runs along a stone wall. The wall is fast with an iron gate and trails a long shadow across the road.

The road opens from morning into night, and from night into morning. Groping along the stone wall I drop a tear, but look up to find the sky abashingly blue.

The road is barren of a single weed. The reason I cling to it is there is me remaining on the other side of the road. And the only reason why I live is I want to find what I lost.