Mister Zero, Her Story: Interlude – The last
“Madam One, this way please, the Saint has been waiting for you.”
A deep voice echoed, and a towering figure in full armor stood before them.
Beside the armored figure stood a girl—or rather, a child—with short, icy-blue hair.
At barely 1.4 meters tall, with a childish face, being addressed as “Madam” seemed almost comical, but no one dared laugh.
Besides the Holy Knight-Captain who had just spoken, several other Holy Knights flanked her, whether as guards or as a precaution, it was unclear.
The newly established “Noah” was still young, and this girl, who called herself “One,” possessed a mysterious power comparable to the Saint’s.
Even if the Saint herself didn’t mind, Noah couldn’t afford to offend this girl.
During the recent “Calamity Infected” expulsion incident, this girl, leading “Dawn,” had successfully retrieved numerous human calamities from various mega-cities, even Noah, their power a miracle unseen in the New Era. No weapon could stop them, not even the relics of the Old Era.
Because of this, when the Saint decided to invite One, Dawn’s leader, to Noah, most of the Twelve Saints had objected, only a few remaining silent.
So, for the first time, the Saint had used her rarely invoked power… the veto.
And so, the invitation was sent to Dawn headquarters, and One arrived alone, without a single escort.
“I’ve been wanting to meet her as well, for a long time,” One nodded slightly.
This seemingly childish girl’s eyes held the calmness of someone who had weathered countless storms, even venturing alone into enemy territory didn’t faze her.
Along the way, all One saw were ordinary people, including the Holy Knights.
Those with unusual abilities, born from disasters, were considered human calamities, rejected by all mega-cities, forced to wander the Wasteland.
One wanted to ask this Saint, who had brought a new future to humanity, why she had made such a decision.
They passed through the bustling outdoor camps, people working tirelessly to build their new homes.
Ahead, on a mist-shrouded mountain, a white palace shimmered, seemingly untouched by human hands.
“Madam One, we can only escort you this far,” the Holy Knight-Captain stopped and turned. “Beyond this point is a restricted area, personally designated by the Saint. These mountains, and the palace you see… were all created by the Saint’s power. We are not allowed to enter without permission.”
“Such rules?” One said with a hint of mockery. “Your Saint is quite… exclusive.”
The Holy Knights gripped their weapons, but under the Knight-Captain’s warning gaze, they stepped aside.
“I hope you and the Saint can reach an agreement,” the Knight-Captain said gravely. “May the Saint’s light shine upon you.”
“If that happens, I’ll make sure to dodge.”
One walked forward, her small figure disappearing into the mountains under the Holy Knights’ watchful eyes.
…
After what seemed like both a long journey and a single step, One reached the white palace.
The palace wasn’t large, radiating a holy, gentle white light, a faint chanting echoing from within.
“Putting on a show,” One muttered, then pushed open the doors and entered.
Inside was a single, spacious hall, filled with a soft, white light.
Intricate, beautiful patterns adorned the walls, seemingly imbued with a mysterious power that soothed the soul and mind.
And in the center of the hall stood a holy throne.
A faint, vaguely humanoid, silver light sat upon it, silent.
“Is this… the Saint?”
One frowned, a sense of familiarity, yet no clear memory.
But this wasn’t unusual. Since the destruction of “Dawn City,” all nine siblings had experienced varying degrees of memory loss, and One’s condition was the best among them.
Just then, a calm, indifferent voice echoed.
“You’ve come.”
“Who?”
One turned sharply, spatial fragments swirling around her.
“Many call me ‘Saint,’ but I believe you wouldn’t like that title.”
An ordinary-looking woman slowly emerged, yet One felt a strange sense of familiarity.
Something stirred in her memory, but nothing surfaced, only two tears rolling down her cheeks.
Why… was she crying?
One stared at the woman as she walked towards the throne, gently touching the silver light upon it.
A faint, almost imperceptible, smile appeared on her lips.
“You seem to have many questions,” the Saint glanced at One. “I will answer… selectively.”
One did have many questions. Upon receiving the Saint’s invitation, countless questions had flooded her mind.
Why had she expelled those with unusual abilities?
Why had she been able to find an “Ember” identical to Dawn City’s?
Why…
So many whys.
But upon seeing the Saint, these questions faded, leaving only one.
Who are you?
Who is the Saint?
“Have we… met before?” One whispered.
She felt as if she were back in the Endless Wasteland, many years ago.
Those hazy, yet warm, days…
Now just fragmented memories, scattered and lost.
“We’ve met… many times,” the Saint nodded. “The end and the beginning of civilizations are a cycle. You are at one end, and I am at the other, but now… we stand together.
“But now… your life flickers like a candle in the wind, about to be extinguished.”
One was silent.
She knew the Saint was right.
Although both were God’s Chosen, One’s condition was far worse than her siblings’.
Even slight emotional fluctuations caused spatial fragments to appear around her.
In severe cases, even spatial rifts.
For a God’s Chosen nearing the peak of human power, this was unbelievable.
And worse, as her life force faded, her control weakened.
One couldn’t imagine the consequences if she lost control completely.
Even as a child, she had easily destroyed a settlement of hundreds.
And now…
Even Noah might not be able to withstand her uncontrolled power.
“It’s none of your concern,” One looked away. “I will leave… on my own.”
She paused, then whispered, “After… everything is… arranged.”
“You asked if we have met. The answer is yes,” the Saint said calmly. “I can also tell you… that besides ‘Saint,’ I once had another name.”
—”Absolute Death.”
“!!!”
One’s eyes widened in shock, the space around her fracturing.
But the silver light on the throne flickered, and the fractured space instantly healed.
One, however, was too shocked to notice, her gaze fixed on the Saint, filled with hatred.
…In her fragmented memories, the hatred for “Absolute Death” hadn’t faded, but intensified over time.
“I am ‘Absolute Death,’ but not… the ‘Witch of Absolute Death’,” the Saint turned away and whispered. “I am no longer the ‘Witch of Absolute Death,’ I am simply ‘Absolute Death,’… her ‘Absolute Death’.”
The Saint’s gaze fell upon the silver light, as if looking at someone else.
“Our story… isn’t over yet.”
After the initial shock and anger, One quickly calmed down.
Although her appearance and physique hadn’t changed, she was no longer the naive child she once was.
“Why are you telling me this?” One asked coldly. “Although I’ve lost many memories… I still remember… you and the ‘Malice of All Worlds’… you planned to destroy this world.”
“I… they never intended to destroy the world,” the Saint glanced at One, her indifferent gaze causing a pang of pain. “Only to destroy this current civilization. And this… has happened many times before.
“For tens of thousands of years, it has never stopped.”
“What are you saying?” One frowned. “Destroying a civilization and destroying the world… aren’t they the same thing?”
“To you, they are,” the Saint whispered. “But to Her… and to them… they are not.
“Because destroying a civilization… is to free this world… from the despairing prison of the ‘gods’… A futile attempt to escape, repeated again and again… an endless cycle of… failure.
“I’m tired of it. I’m willing to stay in this civilization and try to save it, even if the cost of failure… is eternity.”
The Saint turned to face One, her tall figure looking down at her, yet her demeanor wasn’t arrogant, but almost… pleading.
“I need your help, One,” the Saint said seriously. “To exile the ‘Malice of All Worlds’ and the ‘gods’ to a place beyond comprehension… your help is essential.”
“Laughable! You said the same thing to her back then, didn’t you?” One exclaimed, regaining her composure. “Saving the world… it was all a lie!”
One hadn’t forgotten the tears and sorrow of that forgotten person.
“I didn’t lie, I simply… deceived her,” the Saint said calmly. “This time… I’m willing to… join her.”
“Absurd! I won’t fall for your tricks again! I’ll reveal your true nature to the world, let everyone know… the truth about the so-called ‘Saint’!”
One turned to leave.
Seeing this, the Saint sighed. She hadn’t intended to awaken One’s true consciousness.
“At least for now… I still need this ‘Saint’ identity to guide humanity…” The Saint shook her head, looking at One’s back. “How long do you intend to hide, Witch of End? Or rather… ‘Future’ (true name)?”
One’s body stiffened.
And then, she began to fade, as if in a dream.
She slowly turned around, her icy blue eyes like a vast, empty void.
“‘Life’,” she said, “what are you planning?”
…The Witch of End had awakened.
Or rather, One had always been a part of the Witch of End’s consciousness, her memories of the Witch deliberately erased.
Absolute Death was a traitor to the “Malice of All Worlds,” but the Witch of End… was neutral.
Like Absolute Death, after millennia of repeated failures, she had grown weary.
However, the Witch of End didn’t have Luo Yan’s sacrifice as a catalyst, nor Absolute Death’s courage to take that final step.
She had split off a part of her consciousness, becoming the God’s Chosen One, observing this flawed, continuing civilization.
Upon One’s death, this fragment would return to the “Malice of All Worlds,” continuing the endless cycle of failure.
If the Saint hadn’t awakened her by revealing her true name, One would have simply died as One, the part of her that was the Witch of End never resurfacing.
“I am no longer the ‘Witch of Absolute Death,’ but the ‘Witch of Absolute Death’ will continue to exist.”
Facing the Witch of End, whom she knew so well, the Saint didn’t waste any words. She revealed something.
…Or rather, someone.
A beautiful, dark-haired girl lay there, as if asleep.
“This is… your mortal vessel?” the Witch of End asked, surprised. “Do you intend to…?”
“Indeed, since the Witch of Absolute Death will continue to exist, the best solution… is to control her,” the Saint’s voice was calm, as if she wasn’t talking about her former self.
“This is my ‘Artificial Witch’ plan, to ensure that the new ‘Witch of Absolute Death’… will continue to protect humanity after I, along with you and the gods, are exiled to a place beyond comprehension.”
“To control a member of the ‘Malice of All Worlds’… using a mortal vessel…?” The Witch of End looked at the Saint. “I have to say, even among us, few are as… audacious… as you.”
“No, I’m not audacious enough,” the Saint glanced at the white light, then at the Witch of End. “It’s you who are audacious.”
“Suit yourself, I’ll help you if you want,” the Witch of End glanced at the white light, then looked away, seemingly indifferent. “But prepare a good coffin for me first.”
She was the Witch of End, simply forgetting this fact most of the time.
Only in her dream state would that part of her awaken.
And her greatest worry was that after her death, her body would lose control, becoming a disaster.
But if it were Absolute Death…
She would surely find a way to control it, wouldn’t she?
“Is this… a deal? It seems I’m getting the better end of it.”
“…If you think so.”
-Volume 2 End-
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Mister Zero, Her Story: “IF” Side Story – A Rotting Journal
(Smeared text) June 13th, Record.
Three months have passed since the Calamity Tide returned. The disaster that occurred millennia ago has descended once more, catching humanity off guard…
No, at least we knew.
Because… the Calamity Tide started in Yan City.
An invisible, strange wave spread from the Ember Furnace, driving anyone who touched it into an endless frenzy, transforming them into twisted monsters.
Yan City was destroyed.
Our Yan City, the city of our forefathers… destroyed in an instant.
The “Ember” that gave us hope became a source of terror, devouring lives.
Uncle Lin is dead, and Rhine, the Dawn Captain who invaded, is also dead. Only the old man managed to escape with us.
So this is what it feels like… to be a refugee…
Miss Luo Yan also seems to be dead, but the old man, whenever I mention her, hesitates, refusing to say more.
I suddenly miss her.
And Sister… where is she?
July 6th, Record.
Refugees fleeing from the west brought shocking news.
Noah has fallen.
The Noah Holy Church, which guided humanity in the New Era, is gone, including the Twelve Saints.
What happened…? Why is human civilization on the verge of collapse? This feeling of unreality… where does it come from?
The old man said he would continue our fathers’ legacy, build a new Yan City, a new future.
But… do we even have a future?
August 12th, Record.
The old man is dead.
I killed him.
He cried and begged me to kill him. It was the first time I saw him cry.
I didn’t want to…
But he had become a monster, grotesque and ugly, only a sliver of his consciousness remaining, begging me to end his suffering.
I buried his remains, what little was left of him, a pile of deformed flesh, and placed a wooden marker: “Li Ping’s Grave.”
But a gust of wind swept through, and the grave was gone, I couldn’t even find him…
Few remain from Yan City, and I’ve released several more these past few days.
I also want to die.
October 3rd, Record.
A long and lonely journey…
I’m alone now, everyone else is dead.
I can still see the stars at night. There was an old saying in the Old Era that when people die, they become stars.
But after becoming a monster… can we still become stars?
Just wishful thinking…
Record.
How many days have passed? Or years?
I often see Miss Luo Yan, watching me silently, but I can’t touch her. Are these… deathbed hallucinations?
My hands… don’t seem like hands anymore…
I’m awake.
But I’m crying.
I finally understand…
Miss Luo Yan… why…?
I’m coming, Miss Luo Yan… come closer… please?
**
(Author notes)
Phew… Volume Two is finally finished! Although the results are, as always, not ideal, I expected that (laughs).
This is a story about redemption, Miss Luo Yan walking a path towards redemption, both for herself and for this world.
But… what if she fails?
What if she can’t awaken from the whispers of divinity?
What would be the outcome?
The “IF” side story offers a glimpse of this terrifying possibility.
But thankfully, our Miss Luo Yan hasn’t failed yet, at least not yet…
Volume Two, “Mister Zero, Her Story,” reveals Miss Luo Yan’s past and the struggles of the world and human civilization against the Calamity Tide and the gods.
There is no absolute right or wrong; everyone acts according to their own beliefs, making their own choices, eventually reaching their own end.
I don’t want to over-analyze the plot or explain the foreshadowing and easter eggs.
Because I believe every reader has their own understanding, whether they find it enjoyable or poorly written.
Once Miss Luo Yan’s story was written, it no longer belonged solely to me. Every reader has their own unique “Miss Luo Yan” in their mind.
Anyway, that’s enough rambling for now. Due to recent overtime and work commitments, and the discouraging results, I haven’t been able to reply to comments. If you want to chat, you can join the book discussion group~
Please look forward to—Volume Three, “Night of the Witches”!
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