"What greater torment than to be offered everything you ever wanted… in a world that was never meant to last?"
The Stillness After Rain
The rain had stopped.
But Haldria remained drowned—not in water, but in silence. The kind that filled old tombs and forgotten altars, not because life had ended, but because no one dared to remember.
Within the ruined chapel at the city's center, Yvonne stirred.
The warmth from her brother's presence should have been enough to comfort her—but as she reached for him, her fingers passed through the space where his arm should have been.
Kaizen's body shimmered faintly like mist in moonlight.
He was slipping.
"Kaizen?" she whispered. "No, no, not now—"
The room darkened. A silver fog seeped through the stained-glass windows, curling around the pillars like a serpent, weaving between memory and dream. It smelled of springtime, warm bread, almond blossoms, and something else—something she hadn't tasted in centuries.
Peace.
"This… this isn't real," she told herself, retreating from the fog.
But sorrow doesn't knock.
It wraps.
A Life That Could Have Been
She blinked—and the ruined chapel was gone.
In its place stood a garden of light, blooming with golden fire-lilies beneath a warm sky. The air shimmered with the scent of honey and rain-kissed stone. A wind chime sang in the distance, tuned to the rhythm of a heart that had never broken.
And there he stood.
Kaizen, not war-worn or guarded—but grinning, barefoot in sunlit grass, holding a child's hand. The little girl looked up at him with Yvonne's eyes.
"Where… are we?" she murmured.
"Home," Kaizen replied.
"No… this isn't—"
But her voice faltered.
Because she wanted to believe it.
Their castle stood on the hill beyond the garden—restored, its towers gilded in sunlight. And from inside echoed music and laughter. Her laughter.
She wore a sapphire gown and no crown. Her arms were bare. Her flame didn't burn—it glowed.
A voice beside her cooed gently:
"Isn't this what you longed for?"
She turned.
And saw herself.
The Devil of Sorrow
The figure before her wore a gown of ash-blue silk, translucent as smoke, and her hair was laced with silver streaks. Her face… was Yvonne's. Aged by grief, softened by love, hardened by the weight of surrender.
Her voice was a balm. No threat. No fire.
Only understanding.
"You've carried lifetimes of suffering. Let it end, flame-born."
"Stay here. No pain. No more hiding. No more blood."
"The world out there never deserved you."
Yvonne swallowed, tears burning down her cheeks. The child ran up to her—a little girl, giggling, arms outstretched. Her child.
Yvonne fell to her knees and caught the girl in trembling arms.
"Is she real…?"
The Devil smiled.
"If you want her to be."
Kaizen's Intervention
Kaizen appeared once more.
But this time, the real one.
Armor cracked. Hands bloodstained. Eyes shadowed by all he had seen.
"Yvonne, don't listen."
"She's lying," he growled, staring at the Devil. "You're not her. You're the Devil of Sorrow."
The woman tilted her head gently.
"I'm only what she needs."
"A place without suffering. A moment where she can finally breathe."
"You would drag her back into war. I would give her peace."
Kaizen walked forward. The flowers withered beneath his boots.
"She doesn't need peace without truth. She needs the strength to grieve."
"Don't take that from her."
Yvonne clutched the child tighter.
Her hands shook.
She had always dreamed of this. A life where her powers didn't make her a threat. A family. A castle filled with laughter, not echoes.
"Just one more minute," she whispered.
"No," Kaizen said softly. "No more minutes. No more illusions."
The Shattering Choice
Yvonne stood.
The girl pulled at her sleeve.
"Stay, Mama. Stay…"
And Yvonne said something she never thought she could.
"I love you…"
"But you're not mine."
The world shivered.
The Devil's face cracked—like porcelain struck by frost.
"You would choose pain over paradise?" she asked.
"No," Yvonne whispered, flame blooming behind her like wings of sorrow.
"I choose truth."
She raised her hand, and Kaizen stepped beside her.
Together, they touched the child's face.
She smiled.
And vanished.
The garden burned away.
The Devil Retreats
The Devil staggered.
Gone was her warmth. Her veil. Her lie.
She stood now in her true form—tattered, her eyes voids, her hands clawed and trembling.
"Fools," she hissed. "I offered you release."
"And we offer you memory," Yvonne said.
"Because we will never forget what we lost."
Kaizen drew his blade. The Devil shrieked and dissolved into mist, scattering into the rising wind.
The dream collapsed.
The city returned.
The rain did not fall.
The fourth Veil was broken.
And behind it, far darker… the fifth stirred.
The Silence That Followed
Yvonne and Kaizen sat beneath the chapel's broken dome.
They did not speak.
There was no triumph in this victory.
Only understanding.
Only grief that had finally been acknowledged.
A star shimmered in the sky above—a fourth light, flickering like a healed scar.
"We mourned," Kaizen said quietly.
"And we didn't shatter."
Yvonne closed her eyes.
"The Devil of Sorrow didn't fail because she lied…"
"She failed because we remembered."