Sophie opened her eyes.
There was no starlight filling the sky, no falling dark-gold sun, no burning ruins, and none of those familiar figures.
The room was very quiet. Through the wall came the low-frequency hum of an old outdoor air conditioning unit.
The curtains were drawn tight, the heavy blackout fabric blocking the daylight from outside. The only light source in the room was the blue breathing light pulsing on the computer case in the corner.
The air was thick with the stuffy, slightly dusty smell of a room that hadn't had its windows opened in a long time.
On the nightstand, a smartphone screen lit up with a harsh, cold glare, accompanied by a brief vibration. In the top right corner of the screen, a red unread message bubble displayed "99+".
Sophie got up in silence, letting the screen slowly dim as it timed out.
She was wearing an oversized black cotton T-shirt that hung down to the tops of her thighs.
Sophie looked down.
Her gaze swept past her collarbone.
She reached out with both hands, cupping the undersides of her breasts, curling her fingers, and lifting them slightly to test their weight.
A distinct weight pressed against her wrist muscles, resisting the upward path of her arms.
Sophie lowered her hands.
She pursed her lips.
She let her legs dangle over the edge of the bed, her feet searching for her slippers on the floor.
Her toes brushed against the cold laminate flooring before sliding into a pair of oversized plastic slippers.
Sophie stood up unsteadily.
She reached out to steady herself against the wall, found her balance, let go, and walked toward the door one step at a time.
Her footsteps sounded exceptionally clear in the quiet room, the soles of her slippers shuffling noisily against the wooden floor.
Sophie reached the door.
On the dark carpet in front of the door lay a rectangular corrugated cardboard shipping box.
There was no shipping label from any courier on the box, only a strip of clear packing tape running across the middle. The corners of the cardboard were slightly worn.
Sophie stopped and stared down at the box.
After standing there for a dozen seconds, she bent her knees and crouched down.
She reached out, pinching one end of the tape between her thumb and index finger.
Pressing her nail in, she punctured the surface of the cardboard beneath the tape and ripped upward.
Riiiiip.
The tape tore away with a sharp screech that sounded exceptionally grating in the dim room.
Sophie folded the two flaps of the cardboard box outward.
Inside was a black cardboard packaging box.
The surface of the box was completely plain, save for two dark-red, gold-embossed characters stamped right in the center.
“Red Moon”
Sophie lifted the black box out of the cardboard carton.
Written on the face of the box in neat, elegant handwriting was a single line of text:
“If you already knew that the Red Moon would weep blood because of you, would you still, at this original starting point, plant the seed of calamity once more with your own hands?”
Sophie's gaze swept over the words.
She let go with one hand.
The box with the gold-embossed lettering fell carelessly onto the carpet with a dull thud.
Without giving it another glance.
She picked up the remaining black helmet with both hands and slipped it straight over her head.
...
The sunlight was bright and warm.
Deep beneath the stone slabs they sat on, massive, ancient gears ground together.
The heavy mechanism turned the bronze shafts, ticking away with a slow, rhythmic "tick, tack."
The sound traveled up the spine of the clock tower, passing through their thighs and backs to vibrate straight into their hearts.
This was the Central Clock Tower of Silvervein City, one of the places where Sophie and Kaila had spent the most time over the past few days.
At this height, the wind was fierce.
The breeze carried the scent of freshly baked wheat from distant bakeries, along with an indescribable, dry warmth.
Below, vendors pushed carts with wooden wheels over the cobblestone streets, rumbling along.
Children holding strings chased white doves that had flown in from who knows where, their laughter torn to shreds by the high-altitude wind, drifting up in faint fragments.
Women in linen clothes carried water buckets through the crisscrossing narrow alleys.
The crisp clacking of horseshoes, the heavy pounding from the blacksmith shops, and the noisy bargaining over a few Copper Shells in the distant market all blended together, riding the rising warm currents to the highest point of the city.
Kaila sat on the right edge of the clock tower, her legs dangling in the empty air.
The hem of her nun's robes whipped wildly in the wind.
She kept her head lowered, her short blonde hair ruffed by the strong wind, strands brushing against her pale cheeks.
Her gaze swept past her toes, falling straight down to the labyrinth of streets below, onto the sprawling tapestry of life and death for tens of thousands of people.
Sophie sat on the left edge of the clock tower, a couple of paces away from Kaila.
Her posture was casual, one hand propping her up on the stone slab beside her.
She didn't spare a glance for the vast city below. From beginning to end, her crimson eyes remained fixed on the short blonde hair above those nun's robes.
This was an afternoon they had actually spent together.
The two of them had once sat side by side right here, feeling the same wind, listening to the same ticking, but watching different people.
Tick.
The gear of the clock turned another notch.
“Sophie,” Kaila said, breaking the silence.
The wind carried her voice over.
“Miss Hero, you've crossed the line. Our relationship isn't close enough for us to critique each other's souls,” Sophie spoke sullenly.
She stared at Kaila, who was sitting on the edge of the clock tower with her back to her.
The folds of her nun's robes were pressed tight against her back by the wind, outlining her slender frame.
She was angry.
“I'm sorry, Sophie. But I can't actually see the world behind that door.” Kaila gestured toward the door behind Sophie. “Over there, the only thing a person has to face is themselves.”
“That's just... the innate effect of Judgment. I didn't do it on purpose.”
“But why did you use that on me?”
Sophie's tone softened considerably, though it was tinged with resentment.
Her fingers clawed at the edge of the stone slab beneath her, her fingertips turning red from pressing hard against the rough grain.
“I used every ounce of my strength to save you. I draped the dark night over myself and revealed an identity to you that no ordinary person could ever know. Just for you, I took massive risks and paid a terrible price. This was easily the hardest I've ever worked to save anyone in my life—did I do something wrong?”
Sophie didn't understand.
She had thrown away all her masks.
Begged for the blessings of multiple Witches.
Hadnot hesitated to expose a past despised by the entire world.
Had braved the killing array of the entire Vampire Council.
And swung the sword that shattered the starry river.
Her identity as the ultimate evil of all ages, those sickening past events.
She could have hidden them for a lifetime, continuing to play the part of a clever, pitiful white-haired girl.
But she had laid bare all her cards.
Every single one of them was a genuine effort to save Miss Hero.
She had played every card she had, only to receive a beam of light through her throat and a meaningless judgment.
“I am very grateful,” Kaila said.
Her golden hair shimmered faintly in the sunlight.
“I thank Sophie for everything you've done for me. But you shouldn't go any further.”
“Sophie.”
“I am dying.”
“I know you would find a way to save me.”
“So I decided to act first.”
Kaila stated this in a flat, detached tone, as if discussing something as mundane as what bread to eat for dinner.
“What is this supposed to be? Killing me first so I can wait for you in the afterlife?” Sophie asked. “I didn't know Miss Hero had such a morbid hobby.”
“But Sophie can resurrect, can't you?” Kaila said softly. “I've seen it many times.”
“So this is only to hold you back. As long as Judgment doesn't end, you can't leave.”
“I plan to keep you here like this.”
“Until I die.”
The wind died down for a brief moment.
“Just because you want to die?” Sophie asked.
“Fine, you could have just told me. Why did you have to do something so hurtful?”
She spun around.
Her legs traced an arc through the air as her slender body turned, sitting down on the opposite side of the clock tower.
Across the empty stone slab, she and Kaila sat back-to-back, facing opposite directions, looking down at the masses below whom she didn't care about in the slightest.
Separated by the empty air, they couldn't even feel the rise and fall of each other's breathing.
“I'm not so bored that I'd go out of my way to save someone who doesn't want to live anyway—let's just say I misread you. I thought you actually valued the bond between us and wanted to prolong our time together.”
Sophie's chin lifted.
She wrapped all her emotions in sarcasm.
“Let's just say I misjudged Miss Hero, and didn't realize you were such a self-destructive person.”
“In any case, I never expected any reward from you from the very beginning.”
Sophie crossed her arms over her chest.
She watched the tiny black specks of people bustling back and forth below.
“Let me go, and I'll watch you die from the outside—fantastic, the people are finally going to lose their Hero. I'm sure their future will be incredibly bright.”
Kaila didn't answer immediately.
The wind swept through the clock tower, stirring her blonde hair.
She stared down at a particular street below.
A child in coarse linen clothes tripped and fell into a puddle. The passersby didn't pause, simply stepping around him to keep walking. The child got up on his own, brushing off the muddy water.
A long time passed before she spoke.
“...I don't want to die.”
“Sophie.”
“If I only wanted to die.”
“I wouldn't have raised my hand against you.”
Her voice drifted over from behind, carrying an unmistakable weakness.
Sophie didn't look back.
Her crimson eyes stared at the distant clouds.
She maintained her cold, rejecting back.
“I know that by doing this, you feel I am being ungrateful.”
“You draped yourself in the night, exposed your identity, and took such a massive risk, only for me to lock you away in the end.”
“I'm sorry.”
“For everything Sophie has done for me, I am truly, deeply grateful.”
Sophie's shoulders twitched slightly.
Still, she didn't turn around.
“I don't hear much sincerity,” Sophie said.
“Forgive me. I am not good at expressing my feelings,” Kaila apologized.
But why?
Sophie had inadvertently bitten her lip with her fangs, and the metallic taste of blood filled her mouth.
“Then Miss Hero should have just lain there quietly and let me save you,” Sophie muttered.
“But doing it that way... won't work,” Kaila softly said.
“What I rejected was what Sophie wanted to take from me.”
Sophie's brow furrowed.
She turned her upper body slightly.
“Are you talking about the Hero Class?” Sophie asked, frowning.
Was that some kind of precious treasure? It was a noose around her neck that could tighten and strangle her at any moment, an instrument of torture that stripped her of all freedom and joy.
“But if I don't take away your identity curse, I can't save you. You don't have to worry about that curse hurting me either—I have far more tricks up my sleeve than you think.”
It was just a mere curse. Perhaps upon entering her body, the Heart of Yin would directly transform it into a Demon King identity.
And in any case, it was nothing more than a derivative of the Destined Crown.
She could even create Witches; a simple curse couldn't stir up any trouble.
“I don't understand. Have you actually grown attached to this curse? Do you know how painful it is for me to watch you forced to do those 'Hero' things all the time?”
“If it weren't for this curse, you wouldn't be so exhausted, nor would you have faced such a life-or-death crisis.”
“Miss Hero... clearly deserves a better life,” Sophie spoke heavily.
Even dates had to be conducted under the guise of commissions, and when the time was up, she had to go off on new commissions. Her scarce moments of leisure amounted to nothing more than standing around for a bit. Was that fun?
There was absolutely no freedom to speak of.
Throw away that shackle, cast aside that obsession with the Witches.
Become a Hero who only looked at her.
To walk together—that was the only right path.
“It's not that I'm attached to the curse. It's simply because I am the Hero, Kaila,” Kaila said.
Without defense or hesitation, Kaila's words were filled with absolute conviction.
“And just now, Sophie wanted to take away the 'Hero' part of me.”
“You wanted to turn the Hero into a Hero who belongs to you alone. I heard those words.”
That condition Sophie had joyfully proposed in the ruins, at the very edge of life and death.
Come subjugate me. Forget about the other Witches. Be a Hero who belongs only to me.
Kaila had heard it.
Kaila had remembered it.
“Sophie wants a Miss Hero who only looks at Sophie.”
“Sophie wants a Miss Hero who will go with her whenever she says so.”
The clock beneath them let out a sound.
Tick, tack. Tick, tack.
“Precisely because I've spent some time with Sophie, I can say that I understand you, at least a little,” Kaila said softly.
The Hero's Eye could see through lies.
Naturally, she had also seen the exclusive, possessive desire lurking behind Sophie's seemingly affectionate facade.
“But if I were to do that, then that person...”
“...would no longer be me.”
Sophie froze.
Kaila's voice grew even weaker.
“Sophie once asked me—are commissions really more important than you?”
It was a question Sophie had thrown out with a mix of jealousy and teasing on an afternoon bogged down by countless trivial tasks.
“I didn't answer that day.”
“I will answer now.”
Kaila took the initiative to sit down right next to Sophie.
Her rose-colored Hero's Eye looked out at the bustling streets below, watching the sunlight spill over the rows of roofs, reflecting a vibrant, golden glow.
Kaila curled the corners of her mouth.
—It was her smile.
“Sophie is very important to me. Extremely important,” Kaila said.
“But there are some things that are more important than me.”
Sophie toyed idly with her fingernails, looking completely detached.
“If I am not there to watch over those struggling in calamity, then who will watch over them?”
“Sophie, will you look?”
Sophie focused intently on playing with her fingers.
“That little girl crying for her bunny... there will no longer be anyone willing to jump into the tanning vat for her.”
Kaila's gaze fell on the distant artisans' district, where the lime pits emitted a pungent stench.
That filthy stuffed bunny.
That little girl who would have wept by the pit forever if no one had saved her.
“That old woman whose cart is stuck in the stone cracks... there will no longer be anyone passing by to help.”
“Those arrogant 'noble guards' standing in the middle of the street... there will be no one to stop them when they extort others.”
“Those who are being devoured, cursed, or captured by cultists... there will no longer be anyone to halt their steps for them.”
Those trivial, insignificant struggles that yielded no material reward.
Those useless interactions that Sophie deemed utterly worthless and a waste of energy.
“Because the only person who would have stopped for them has been kept like a pet by Sophie.”
Kaila let out a self-deprecating laugh.
“Sophie is a very good person, by no means the cold and heartless entity depicted in the prophecies.”
“But Sophie is also cold enough that you wouldn't remember how many slices of bread you've eaten.”
“Sophie only cares about the people who are worth caring about.”
Kaila remembered the night she had awakened her Eye of Judgment.
That soul named Hiso, whose core was illuminated by the Eye of Judgment to reveal a wickedness value of negative one sextillion.
“But the Hero, Kaila, remembers how many slices of bread she has eaten. She will never ignore anyone in need right before her eyes.”
“What are human lives to you, Sophie?” Kaila asked softly.
“Are they bargaining chips? Background scenery? Food?”
“I'm not asking Sophie for an answer.”
“I only—”
Kaila coughed twice, wiping away the blood with her sleeve before continuing.
“I just want to tell Sophie that to me, it isn't like that.”
“To me, being the Hero may be my curse, but it is also my destined path—the path I choose to walk.”
For Sylvia's freedom.
For those nameless souls struggling in the mire.
To preserve the very last shred of what could be called kindness on this cursed earth.
It was a shackle she had willingly accepted.
She was born to be a Hero, from the very beginning.
If the greatest misfortune in life is to be needed by no one.
Then Kaila was undoubtedly fortunate.
Everyone needed her.
The wind grew slightly stronger.
Kaila's face grew even paler.
The color rapidly drained from beneath her skin.
“If Sophie wants to save me by stripping away my Hero identity, then please, stay your hand and let me die as the Hero.”
A calm rejection.
Without a single trace of fear toward death.
Only the solemnity of defending her own definition.
“Even without the curse, Miss Hero can still do those good deeds,” Sophie said. “Losing the identity doesn't instantly turn you into a villain.”
“Without the identity curse forcing you to go, you can still go of your own accord. What difference does it make?”
She watched Kaila, who could barely maintain her sitting posture, swaying more and more.
Pursing her lips, she pulled Kaila down against her shoulder, supporting her body.
“Is that really how it is?” Kaila asked weakly.
“Then, those Witches who interacted with Sophie in the past... did they actively choose to become 'calamities'?”
“There was a reason for that,” Sophie said after a moment of silence.
“It's not like interacting with me automatically turns someone into a Witch... I, I also resolve their traumas, you know? And this time, I definitely wouldn't...”
“Sophie,” Kaila interrupted her.
Leaning against Sophie's shoulder, Kaila only had to look up to see that exquisite face flusteredly trying to explain.
“I believe Sophie,” Kaila said. “And I have met most of the Witches.”
“Precisely because I have interacted with the Witches... and know that they aren't bad at heart, I am even more afraid.”
If the Puppet Witch, the New Moon Witch, and all the others were truly heinous monsters, she could have simply subjugated them.
But during her battles with them, Kaila hadn't felt much intent to kill. They had even gone out of their way to let her off.
This matter had always troubled her.
Now, she finally had the answer.
Sophie was speechless.
She understood, but she couldn't explain.
Even if she admitted here that she had only done it in passing for titles, and didn't need any titles this time, what would be the use?
“The time I spent with Sophie was very happy.”
Kaila gazed down at the citizens, who looked like tiny ants.
“Truly.”
Those gazes in the deep night.
Those flowers in the plaza.
Those memories of dates and battles.
“To me, they were a rare respite,” Kaila said.
Very few people were willing to get close to her, to listen to her.
Admiration is the furthest distance from understanding. People admired her, but they did not understand her.
“...But you were never just a rest stop along the way.”
“Sophie, I never thought of you as just a pavilion in my journey as the Hero.”
She withdrew her gaze from below and looked up, staring at Sophie's tense profile.
“You weigh far more than that in my heart.”
“So heavy that—”
She paused. Her chest rose and fell with her faint breathing.
“So heavy that... I am afraid.”
The Hero, who had single-handedly resisted the great array and had never taken half a step back in the face of Witches and Ancestors, uttered that word.
“I am afraid that one day, for your sake, I will forget my own path.”
“I am afraid that one day, when I look at you, there will be nothing left in my eyes but you.”
By the time she turned back, her origin would already be lost.
“That Kaila... is not the Kaila you cherish right now.”
“She would only bear my face, becoming the newly emerged Eighth Witch.”
Sophie did not answer.
But Kaila continued to speak softly:
“So, when you reached out to take away my Hero identity...”
“...I struck.”
“Not because I wanted to attack Sophie.”
“But simply because... I was afraid.”
“If I let you save me like this—”
A mere shell stripped of its mission, stripped of its concern for others, wrapped in Sophie's selfish love.
“Sophie.”
“I really don't want to become the next Witch.”
Sophie did not answer, and Kaila did not speak further.
The mechanical gears turned tirelessly.
Tick, tack. Tick, tack. Tick, tack.
The silence stretched on for a long time.
The high-altitude wind swept through the clock tower.
The sound of the wind filled the dead space between them.
“Cough...”
Kaila coughed softly.
Her body was gradually turning translucent, and her words carried a hint of self-mockery.
“...Originally.”
“I only wanted to buy time.”
“To drag things out until I died completely.”
“I didn't plan on saying so much to you.”
The Hero's eyes began to lose focus.
“I thought... you would curse at me, smash this clock tower, and do everything in your power to break Judgment.”
“I was prepared to be hated by you.”
“But you.”
“You are still willing to talk to me.”
The ultimate evil of all ages, possessing godlike power and hands stained with blood.
Behind those guarded, sarcastic words, she had ultimately sat quietly with her back turned, accompanying her on the edge of this boring clock tower, listening to this heartbreaking ticking.
“So I think—”
“Since things have already reached this point.”
Her breath was like a thread.
She no longer had the strength to lift her head. Her chin sank back into her collar, and her eyelids drooped inch by inch.
“Sophie.”
“If my passing can awaken a part of your conscience...”
“...then that is enough.”
“I don't expect you to change.”
“I know I don't carry that kind of weight.”
An evil that could casually manufacture Witches, a terrifying existence capable of destroying the world.
What could a mere Hero born of a curse possibly change?
“I only hope—”
The wind stopped.
The edges of this eternally bright clock tower began to crumble into drifting shards.
“That in the future, before Sophie destroys the world...”
“...you will think of me.”
“Even if only for a single second.”
“That will be enough.”
The ticking of the clock finally ceased.
The surrounding scenery began to shatter.
“I suppose... that counts as fulfilling the Hero's mission, right?”
Rate on N.U.
