31st Rebirth Moon, 908 – The Beginning of Dawn
"This is insane."
"It's the only way we can reach her in time."
Amos finished loading his mechanical pincer, snapping it shut and giving it a whirl. He then glared at his side pouch, containing the newly crafted bullets from the blanks he had leftover. After countless hours of rough estimations and utilizing Phoebe's Forced Drawing, they had everything they needed to get to Mt. Algus within hours.
First, the component that tied the plan together: Agility-infused bullets. Much like the same principles applied to all the bullets when fired, they drastically increase their overall power when applied with acceleration, acting as a sort of fuel source. With Agility, by shooting something with it, Amos can increase the acceleration of an object. After some tests, he learned he could even change the trajectory of an object depending on where he shot from. He could change the direction of a cannonball in flight with a single one of these bullets.
Second, bullets infused with Tailwind. By firing straight ahead of himself, Amos can create a wind tunnel to boost the speed of anything that follows in the bullet's flight path.
Last of all, Healing Bullets infused with Heal Pulse. The same type used to bring the company back to life after their encounter with Babylas.
On their own, they were powerful tools. But when combined together—
"But still," Phoebe continued, "the pain you'll be putting your body through. Even with the Healing Bullets offsetting the damage, would you be able to withstand the pain?"
Amos glared. "My body has already been put through the wringer. At least this way, there's a chance I'll be able to do some good. I'll take whatever torment inflicted upon me to reach her."
"…" Phoebe sighed. "You're crazier than I am. That's impressive."
"Of course, this does require your aid, too. I'm relying on you to boost our speed once I start slowing down. Since your rifle has more range than my pincer, you'll be able to get us there faster."
She looked into her pouch where the Tailwind-infused rifle bullets lay. She picked one up, loading it into her rifle. She glared softly. "You've got some steel nerves to do this to yourself." She sighed before nodding determinedly. "Let's go get our alchemist back."
Amos nodded. "Hop on."
Phoebe jumped onto his back, locking her legs around his waist without bending his wings too much. Amos crouched down, summoning up a small Sandstorm around himself and preparing to take flight. His wings caught the updraft, bending readily.
"Try not to kill yourself by accident," Phoebe half-joked.
Amos narrowed his eyes. "On my mark. Three…"
Phoebe tensed up, hugging the Gligar tighter.
"Two…"
She clenched her teeth, curling her tail into a fist.
"One…"
Amos took one last breath, knowing that once he started, he couldn't stop until he reached Algus. He was prepared for the hellish agony awaiting him. He will rescue Evelot, no matter what.
"…NOW!"
He smacked his tail down and launched into the air on a geyser of sand. His pincer spun and fired the first of the loaded bullets: the Speed Booster Bullet. It curved through the sand, arcing back around and piercing through his side.
"AAAAGH!"
A light blue aura surrounded him. He fired a second bullet, this time hitting himself with a Healing Bullet to seal up the wound. With the Speed Booster Bullet transferring its energy throughout his body, his flight speed increased significantly, propelling him through the air with Phoebe barely clinging on.
"Aaaagh! PHOEBE!" he yelled.
She raised her rifle and focused her aim. "Wind Tunnel Bullet!" She fired, creating a whirlwind in the path ahead.
Once Amos passed through it, his increased speed amplified to greater lengths. The duo braced themselves as they were catapulted through the air, the environment vanishing in a blur and the chilled air slicing across their skin. They were nothing more than a purple streak blitzing through the sky faster than the eye could track.
With this kind of speed at their disposal…
"NEXT STOP: MT. ALGUS!"
Mt. Algus
With the sun beginning to rise over the land, daylight guided Caractacus to the base of the mountain as he drew closer to the path. Hours of running nonstop, fighting through fatigue with bursts of speed lent to him with Alpha's energy, he was reaching his limit. He had hoped he would arrive before Evelot did by some miraculous chance, all in the name of a few moments' rest.
Sadly, he caught her scent on the air, and it was strong. She must've exited the shadows some time ago, likely from the fatigue of traversing as well. This would make tracking her easier if she intended to scale the mountain on foot.
Caractacus slid down on a decline, pushing up snow around him, and stumbled his way toward the main road. He paused to catch his breath, feeling his legs quake under his weight in a desperate bid for rest. His breath, visible in the cold weather, plumed like dragon's smoke with each exhale. His stomach growled for sustenance. His head spun with a faint dizziness quelled only by the electricity refreshing his brain.
Alpha flew closer to the scientist, beeping in concern.
"I'll…I'll be fine." He shook his head and growled. "Dammit Evelot, you better not have done anything reckless yet."
Pushing through the fatigue, he trudged through the main road, kicking snow out of his way. With how long it would take to ascend the mountain, it would give him plenty of time on how he wanted to approach the Mimikyu. As it stood, she may still be in a volatile state if the days of lone travel haven't cooled her emotions. Persuading her off this path would be no small feat. If he was going to get her off this vengeance crusade, he needed to go for the throat and fast.
Unfortunately, he didn't have much time to dwell on his plan as he came closer to the mountain path. He stopped, breathing heavily as his eyes landed on a lone figure sitting in front of the entryway. Concern was the first thought he had, followed by a slight twinge of fear, before ultimately devolving into frustration.
"…Why am I not surprised?"
Sitting in his way, bundled up in a heavy gray coat and blue snow pants, was none other than the man who jumpstarted this diversion in the first place: Absalom.
The cloaked Annihilape lifted his gaze, his red eyes bleeding through the frosty fog hanging between them. Caractacus backed off on instinct, but showed no visible fear in his expression. He focused on his rage to keep his composure as his eyes already flickered about trying to strategize a way around the ape.
"I'm impressed you made it this far on such short notice," Absalom stated. "And yet, this was also a thread in the tapestry. Not certain, but not unexpected."
Caractacus scoffed. "This prophecy nonsense is starting to get on my nerves. So, what did the Fauchers do to you to warrant sending a young alchemist on a suicidal revenge quest?"
Absalom narrowed his eyes. "Who said anything about revenge? I'm just curious how she'll finish her tapestry."
"Oh, can it with that excuse. Look, I humored your little story about destiny and fate, but all you accomplished was filling a traumatized girl's head with anger and grief. She's been through enough, and yet you perpetuate her suffering—"
"If she was the kind soul you see her as, what did I do to put her on this conquest?" He stood up, dusting the snow off his pants. "If you want a real reason, the Fauchers have caused enough harm. They created and sold dangerous potions for years, profiting off the scum of Virdis to make a quiet fortune. She is no different."
"She never—"
"She took part in the family business. She continued their research. She supplied to criminals." Absalom crossed his arms. "Did you know, some time before Lancaster ever found her, she sold off a shipment of collars to the New Chariot Empire to keep their prisoners in line?"
"…" Caractacus glared.
"But she's a kind soul, you keep saying. For as scared as she is, she's an opportunist just like her family. She needed to survive, so she was willing to do anything to get what she wanted even if it meant corrupting her morals."
"…" Caractacus huffed. "I know what you're trying to do. Hate to break it to you, but I'm not a good person either. I'd be a hypocrite if I said she was in the wrong. The difference is, she's willing to save a life…and I wasn't." Fighting through his apprehension, he took a step forward. "So, and pardon my rudeness, keep your bullshit excuses to yourself. I'm going to save Evelot. Got a problem with that, cochon démon?"
"…" Absalom sighed. He raised his fist, channeling a shadowy light around it. "I can't allow you to interfere with Fate's threads."
"Tch. Well then—" Caractacus, finally catching his breath, burst forth with electricity blasting out of his hind paws. "You'll have to try real hard to keep me from getting past you—"
Caractacus' eyes widened as the pig monkey suddenly sprang forward, getting up in his face in less than a second. His eyes followed the fist blazing in an ethereal dark blue.
"Silent Fury Lv.1."
Caractacus staggered as the attack slammed into his Negative Space, electricity bursting between the barrier and Absalom's fist. Though the barrier (thankfully) absorbed the energy without fail, Absalom pushed forward on his attack with his energy skyrocketing into a fierce aura. The power exploding out from his punch sent Caractacus flying, smashing him into the snow-covered mound ahead.
"Ugh…" Snow rained over the barrier as Caractacus lay on the ground in a daze. His electricity refreshed his mind, allowing him to stand back up. His eyes sparked with frustration as he ran numerous calculations in his head.
His attack didn't breach. Good. That's good. He should've known how my technique works, so that means he doesn't have a way to reach me. But still…he actually threw me with just a punch? I should've neutralized the kinetic energy, too. Unless…did his punch warp the air around it, too?
"Take pride in that barrier, boy." Caractacus tensed up as Absalom marched out from the powdery mist, his fists blazing in the fierce aura. His eyes, raging with the same dark blue, mystifying aura, pierced through the Boltund like daggers. "For it's the only thing keeping you attached to this mortal coil."
"…Tch." Caractacus crouched, readying himself. This guy…
The aura crackled wildly off his fists. Absalom snorted, his fur standing on end from the pressure rising beneath him. "Destiny will weave the threads lost to time. That is my purpose."
Year 705
Six years ago, ten lands discovered the existence of a region hidden in a fog that could not be seen.
Five years ago, ten lands sailed to this undiscovered land in hopes of claiming its resources for their own. Dispute was inevitable, as was war.
Three years ago, the war that swept across Virdis ended in a devastating earthquake. Ruins, monuments, and the like were swallowed in this cataclysmic event, shaking the might of the ten armies into retreating to their captured territories.
Since then, these ten armies formed their own kingdoms and empires, all with the purpose of one day taking over the whole of Virdis as their own. The rich supply of the unique metal that conducted a Pokémon's elemental energy was beyond valued. Its existence could change the foundation of science and alchemy alike. Those who controlled elementium could change the course of history.
The damages left behind in their war have left a permanent scar on the Elysivine Kingdom's culture, its roots ripped from the earth and assimilated into the kingdoms with whatever scraps remained. The people either went into hiding in the protected, untouched ruins of their old home or submitted to their new way of life for their own safety.
The Laurus Vanguard has since disbanded, and no one knew what became of Prince Ogden.
The past was dead. Make way for the future.
The new age of Virdis had begun.
"…protect…fight…stop him…"
A voice whispered along the wind in the empty fields of the ruins. Dust rose in the breeze, shrouding the fields in a dreary fog. Quiet footsteps stamped the ground, a faint echo drumming with each step.
"Stop…Drogo…don't do it…"
From the fog, a shape stepped forward. Wrapped in a phantom-like aura of blue, as if the shadows themselves came to life, a weathered Primeape emerged from seemingly nowhere. His armor, perhaps carrying a shining luster in a former life, was rusted and withered.
"No…I can't stop him…what…"
His eyes carried a sullenness as they focused on the ground. He swayed like a wilting flower in the wind, yet still held strong with each powerful step.
"…Where am I?"
He lifted his eyes, finding himself in unfamiliar land. This barren field with hardly a shred of life around it couldn't possibly be his kingdom. How long was he unconscious? How long had he been gone?
His eyes flickered to a shape flapping in the wind, and he felt his heart stop.
An unfamiliar banner that was stabbed into the ground stood proudly on the ruined land, its own state a mix of ashes and tatters. Further ahead, as more of the dusty fog passed, he saw several more banners plunged into the earth. Not just banners, but armor, spears, stone, and more. Earth that was scorched black and twisted into itself as if a tidal wave broke loose inland.
This was the graveyard of a battlefield.
"…" He held his hand out, feeling the delicate spectral threads fall into his grasp. Hundreds of unwoven tapestry clung to the air, their stories forever unwritten. All that remained was a single tapestry, one spelling out the end of a bloodied battle. A tapestry of red pouring over a mountain of bodies.
This was the world he woke up to.
"…" He clenched his fists. "This…is the world you sought in opposition of the kingdom, Drogo?"
The air stirred around him. As he took further steps through the graveyard, a dark blue aura rose up from his footprints, shining like flames. With each step forward he took, the color in his fur receded into a dreary gray. The bracers naturally found around his wrists began to crack. His fur started growing out into longer strands, some even floating around him.
He could feel the presence of the dead around him. The lingering essence of those who gave their lives for such a worthless cause. The dead brought upon by an insatiable greed from those who brought bloodshed. Each step he took, he felt something…swelling inside him. A burning, festering feeling fueled by each lost soul that remained attached to this battle.
"If this is the world you sought for salvation, Drogo…"
Absalom, with a mere clench of his fist, shook the air with a fierce tremble, shoving away the dust clinging around him. He opened his eyes, the dark blue blazing within overpowered by a burning red.
"I will break everything you fought for."
With his mind racing with electricity, Caractacus shot across the snow with Alpha sticking close to his back. Using his Neutral Influence to blast energy out from his hind paws, he granted himself quick bursts of speed as he zigzagged for a path around the monstrous Annihilape.
If I can at least get past him and create some distance, I might be able to lose him up the mountain.
It was a worthwhile attempt, but Absalom wasn't so easily evaded.
The undead pig monkey slammed his fists into the ground, splitting a fissure in Caractacus' path with spectral light blazing out. Naturally, the Boltund lunged through with no fear of his safety, but the brief window of distraction the spectral wall granted was enough for Absalom to get into position.
Blocking the Boltund's way, Absalom hammered his fist into Negative Space once again, the air crackling and distorting around him with such turbulence that it sent Caractacus sailing away.
"AGH!" His barrier absorbed the damage from the impact and his landing, dropping him back into the snow. He lunged back onto solid ground and bolted for the pathway yet again. "Positive Cannon: 5mm Shot!"
A thin laser fired from his maw, piercing the Annihilape right between the eyes. Absalom stumbled back, the smoldering pinprick-sized hole in his head smoking and bubbling. Caractacus supplied power back into his hindlegs and rocketed for the path.
Phoebe wasn't able to kill him with a headshot, but it still stuns him. While he's dazed, I can—
However, the Boltund's vision was suddenly clouded in a sea of dark blue hammering against his barrier. He braced himself, soaring back the way he came and crashing through the snow. He dragged his claws through the ground to catch himself, shaking off the pain.
He growled as Absalom stumbled back to his feet like a reanimated corpse. The laser wound steam with a spectral mist before healing itself up. Absalom lifted his gaze, his eyes tempting Caractacus to try that maneuver again.
Caractacus growled. Unless empowered, most healing moves can only heal surface level injuries. It would take certain biological advantages and a combination of healing moves to pull off something like that. But can an Annihilape meet those requirements?
"Until you've overcome my power, you shall not pass," Absalom stated mechanically.
"Tch." Caractacus lowered his stance. "Positive Cannon: Auto Scatter!" He steadied himself and unleashed a volley of electrified shots straight at the mercenary.
Absalom reared his fist back. "Malicious Fog." He punched the air, unleashing a hellish black mist that shattered the earth beneath through pressure alone. It collided with Caractacus' attack, swallowing the electrical shots and detonating them from the inside.
Caractacus closed his eyes and braced himself as the attack slammed into his barrier. Negative Space continued to deny the hit, but the environment was a different story. The attack ripped apart the ground, stealing the Boltund's footing and throwing him into the air on a whirlwind of debris.
"Positive Cannon—" Caractacus pulled a spherical capsule from his pocket and shoved it into his mouth. "Pulse Scatter!" He summoned up energy through his maw and fired, this time unleashing a barrage of electrified pellets. The force of the blast parted some of Absalom's attack to give him an escape route from the mist.
Absalom reared his other fist. "Malicious Fog." He swept his punch across the ground, firing another blast of dark fog at the Boltund.
Caractacus fired energy through his hind paws and blasted himself over the attack. Though he could've tanked it, the attack would've inevitably thrown him further off course. Instead, he loaded another capsule into his mouth and dove for the Annihilape.
"Pulse Scatter!" Getting up close, Caractacus fired into Absalom's face, unloading every single pellet with explosive force into him. A wall of small bullet holes opened up over Absalom's face like a grid, spraying spectral blood against Negative Space.
And now…!
Caractacus slammed his foot down on Absalom, shoving him into the ground, and lunged for the path. Before his paws could touch the ground again, Absalom hammered his hand into the ground, causing the earth to tilt up and block off the hound's escape.
He can still move?!
Absalom hammered his fist into Negative Space, throwing Caractacus back, then ripped the upturned earth out of the ground. Wielding it like a throwing javelin, he chucked it with eruptive force, causing the rock to explode against Caractacus' barrier.
Caractacus glared fearfully through the rubble clinging to his barrier, shifting his paws nervously as he tried to come up with a counterattack. His mind raced for answers to the never-ending questions flooding his mind.
A blast like that at close range would've killed someone times ten, and he's still walking around and throwing me around. What's the deal with this guy? A gunshot to the head won't kill him, and a pellet blast to the face doesn't faze him. What's keeping him alive?
As expected, the bullet wounds faded away, returning Absalom to normal. He grasped his shoulder, rotating the creaks and aches out of it. "It seems we've entered a stalemate, Caractacus MacGyver. I do not wish to harm you by accident. I will, however, strike you down if you try to get past me."
Caractacus got a hold of his nerves and steadily relaxed his breathing. Despite all the calculations running through his brain, he didn't have a surefire way of overcoming the monster blocking his path. As much as he hated to admit it, they were locked in a stalemate. Neither side had a significant edge, though Caractacus admitted he was at a disadvantage since Absalom was still firing back against Negative Space even if damage is still nullified.
It was an unusual power for a Ghost and Fighting-Type. One would even call it unnatural.
"…Heh." Caractacus smirked, trying to hide the nervous twitch in his face. "You know, on our way here, Amos and Phoebe told me something peculiar that Babylas mentioned. It was about that power Evelot obtained under all that stress she endured. Something manifested only by those of great spirit and power on the cusps of death. However, two types in particular seem to have the edge in manifesting it, even if the chances are still slim."
Absalom's expression remained unchanged as his fists blazed with energy.
"Might be my first time seeing it up close. You've got a Heavenly Emotion as well, huh?"
"…" Absalom closed his eyes. "I expected as much when your group encountered Abel Underhill. How very astute of you, MacGyver."
Caractacus clenched his teeth. With his focus solely on me, I have no shot of getting around him. Thus, my only option is to buy time by talking until a plan shows itself. If he's insistent on just standing there, I might be able to weasel a safe route up the mountain.
"Something tells me you won't kindly explain how it works," Caractacus mocked.
"You're a dangerous mind, MacGyver. Can't afford to give away any secrets."
"It was worth asking." Caractacus paced through the snow, keeping eye contact with the Annihilape. "It's a remarkable talent you possess. Most psychics could only dream of having precognition like that. Why waste your energy setting all this up? The Deadly Seven were created to act as the top hounds of the Outlands, keeping gangs in check and established an invisible network of order. You each had your roles and duties, but what do the Fauchers have to do with it?"
"…" Absalom crossed his arms. "I do not care for the fate of the Fauchers, past or present."
Caractacus glared. "So, why haunt Evelot?"
"Because her destiny is the key to unraveling the tapestry."
Caractacus raised his brow. "Oh?"
"Evelot Faucher. I've followed the threads that led back to her family, and I found a tangled cluster of possibilities from her alone. The untapped potential lying dormant within her. A truth I realized too late when Helmut somehow discerned the location of their hideout."
Caractacus tilted his head. Who?
"But when I discovered Evelot Faucher survived that ordeal, I realized the cluster of those threads started to untangle. She should've died that night, but Heavenly Emotion awakened in her, born from the rage she felt. It was a chance moment, a possibility in the threads. Her threads are scattered all across Virdis, connected to everything. She is the key to Virdis' destiny. The key to the end of this ultimate tapestry."
Caractacus glared. Is he saying Evelot's some kind of…chosen one?
Absalom placed a hand over his heart. "That is why I sought out this day. To finalize the prophecy and untangle the webs of fate. I have been granted the power to see how all life is connected." He glared at Caractacus. "Because I believe this battle will bring about the new age of Virdis. Saving us from the two hundred years of torment."
"…You're insane."
"You can look at it however you please, MacGyver. I am simply putting an untapped fate into motion. That girl will die once she reaches Harriet, and Harriet will finally have the justice she deserves."
Caractacus scoffed. "Okay, that confirms it. Evelot? Really? What did she do to Spring-Loaded Harriet?"
Absalom closed his eyes. "Perhaps not her, but…you could say the Fauchers were responsible."
His eyes widened. "What?"
"Have you ever wondered why Spring-Loaded Harriet was the one that struck down the Fauchers that night? Any other mercenary could've done the job for a substantial price, but it was her. One of the most wanted mercenaries in the east and west. Why her?"
"…" Caractacus clenched his teeth. "That's crazy."
"The Fauchers would sell any potion to anyone. They may've had a sizable reputation that garnered them allies and protection, but they never could've imagined one little, mundane transaction bringing about the creation of history's deadliest mercenary."
Year 871 – Mt. Algus – Night
Absalom could only stomach the growing doom and gloom of the Outlands for so long, seeking solitude when he wasn't lording over the current generation of the Deadly Seven. New members appeared like they were running through a revolving door, and they were annoying to keep track of.
He often sought the mountains for what amounted to a vacation, mostly to meditate and ease the internal pains that plagued him. One whiff of the air revitalized him, finding a comfort in the aura of Algus compared to the volatile death that lingered in the Outlands.
His master, Terrowin, would inevitably bring order to the lawless state of Virdis. It was a question of when. For all the sins each of the territories harbored, they were not an easily defeated foe. He admired Terrowin's dedication to the old kingdom, but there was a certain inelegance to seeking war. His own time as a knight sullied the options for ending conflict. Wandering Virdis for as long as he has, he channeled a deeper connection to his visions.
These threads of destiny still baffled him, yet they were the only source of comfort in a time that has changed so much since his…death. He relied on the threads to give him guidance, and he prayed one of them would grant Terrowin passage to that future he sought. The problem was, which of these threads would favor his master?
As Absalom became more familiar with the threads, his own fate was indeterminable. Capable of foreseeing possibilities, not determined futures, his own was constantly in flux. Because all of his decisions could influence the threads, his doubts and confusions left him unable to determine a future for himself. He was cautious when following the threads for that reason, even if dying has become routinely difficult as of late.
Absalom raised his hand, grazing a thread he had been following for some time. "This one has been bothering me. I've seen signs it leads to a cluster, but…I can't determine its meaning. What are you trying to show…me?"
His eyes followed the thread to the higher edges of the mountain, causing him to stop. Despite the darkness, the pale moonlight reflecting off the snow provided enough visibility to make out objects in the distance. Focusing on the mountain, he squinted at the sign of movement.
It was a person, standing on the very edge of a cliff. They were small in stature and dressed for the harsh weather. He saw glints of something dangling around their neck, possibly jewelry.
And the thread he was holding was connected to them.
"Strange," he mumbled, examining the thread again. He glared, realizing something was off about the cluster surrounding her.
Two strands flowed off the figure. One extended beyond the visible spectrum, and the other was frayed.
In his experience, that normally meant—
His eyes widened as the figure suddenly leaned forward, throwing themselves off the cliff. "By the gods!" He bolted through the snow as fast as he could, forgetting about the threads.
Cavities hidden beneath the snow caused him to trip over himself, slowing his movement. He pushed through like a stampeding Tauros, flinging snow out of his way with powerful swipes of his fist while keeping his eyes locked on the falling individual.
As he drew closer, he was horrified to see it was a young child. A Mienfoo, possibly ten or eleven, dressed in a fanciful coat and jewels. A nobleman's child, perhaps? Regardless, what compelled someone so young to throw themselves off the mountain?
"Kid!" Absalom shouted. "KID! Hold on, I'm here to—"
CRASH!
Absalom stopped running as the Mienfoo crashed into the snow with a hard thud, the sound of bone snapping flooding his ears. He reached out on instinct, but grabbed his wrist and restrained himself from moving closer.
He saw his share of warfare as a knight, but the sight of dead children was…too horrific even after two hundred years. He couldn't bear the thought of seeing the child's current state.
He stepped back, clasped his hands, and mumbled a short prayer. He had best leave before someone took notice of his presence, lest he have the entire Algusian military on his tail.
He turned and started his way back down the mountain—
Ba-Bum
Absalom froze. What was that just now?
Ba-Bum. Ba-Bum.
A…heartbeat?
Ba-Bum. Ba-Bum. Ba-Bum.
Absalom narrowed his eyes and looked back at the sunken crash site. As he stared at the spot, he noticed something peculiar, something that he should've noticed by now: there was no spectral light rising out of the crater, a sign to Ghost-Types of the recently deceased. In fact, he didn't sense anything of the sort coming from the crater.
His eyes widened as a different kind of light shimmered within the crater. A radiant pink that shined like cooling magma. He turned himself around and trudged up to the crater, his previous fears washing away.
To his surprise, the Mienfoo lay within the crater on a pile of snow. He studied their face, determining they were a young girl. Despite the fall she took, and the snow being too shallow to soften her landing, the worst she suffered was a couple of scrapes, bruises, and a twisted arm. For any fall of that height at her age, it was a miracle.
But to Absalom, it was a different sign. The energy surrounding the girl was something brought on in a moment of crisis, drawn out by a need to survive. Some fervent urge to see tomorrow even in her final moments.
"It's been two hundred years…and this child is the first in that time, of the modern era, to draw out a Heavenly Emotion."