"So this is Theresa's St. Freya Academy? The architectural style feels… strangely familiar."
"Mmm… I built it."
"???"
Cecilia and Otto strolled through the grounds of St. Freya Academy, chatting casually.
It was the second day of the new year. Under little Goose's reluctant gaze, the two had arrived empty-handed at this place—said to embody Cecilia's final wish.
Ironically, every brick and beam of this academy had been funded and overseen by Otto. Only after its completion had Theresa arrived to complain that it looked like a medieval aristocratic institute.
Independent, huh?
Otto exhaled softly, his emerald eyes calm.
The plot was a tool.
Characters were tools.
Emotions born of tools were meaningless. One had to weigh gains and losses, calculate benefits, exercise restraint.
He should respond to the people before him according to the present situation—not with the arrogance and prejudice of a past observer.
He was Otto.
Otto who no longer clung to Kallen.
Unfounded indulgence had no place. Irrational impulses had no place.
He regarded everything equally.
Because… all of it could be actors upon his stage.
In his eyes, most people possessed only two measures: intrinsic value and utility value. The former referred to their personal ability to generate benefit for him; the latter, the benefit gained after using them.
That way, he would harbor neither expectation nor disappointment. No unnecessary noise. No sorrow at being misunderstood. No pain at being struck down. No unprepared betrayals. No existential despair.
Peaceful, in its own way.
Loneliness was humanity's fate. If one did not demand, one suffered less. Every gain was deliberate and intentional—no less joyful for that.
Besides—
Theresa had considerable utility value.
Excellent. A good granddaughter.
He would continue doting on her.
With slightly fewer privileges.
"I must say, Cecilia," Otto clicked his tongue as he spotted a student attempting to climb the wall to skip class, "if this is the educational philosophy you envisioned… I'm rather disappointed. I recall little Goose once attended here as well—though she soon withdrew and returned to Schicksal."
Cecilia had intended to defend Theresa, but hearing both Otto and Durandal's implicit disapproval, she could only smile awkwardly.
"Ha… well, perhaps it gives the girls a better memory—to fight for the beauty of the world."
"Ah, my dear girl." Otto looked at her helplessly. "False beauty is poison. A little poison may craft sweet dreams. But taken in excess, it ends life."
"The world, from the level of genes onward, is survival of the fittest. It is neither fair nor beautiful."
"…"
Cecilia frowned, thinking carefully.
"Do you remember what I told you in Staffordshire?" Otto continued. "When you had lost your memories, I wanted you to grow well. I wanted you to cherish your life. I wanted you to live freely by your own will. That's why I made you fight the undead—even if I had to guard you from the sidelines."
"I did not help you. I even criticized you when you did well. That was for you, Cecilia. Until you could protect yourself, no one could guarantee your future."
"Only with power can one make choices. That was true for you—and it's even more true for these teenage girls."
"St. Freya's ideals inherit from your past self. Back then, I taught you strength and neglected your growth, only allowing you to see the outside world after 1985."
"That's why you found it dazzling—and why you wish other Valkyries to experience beauty before stepping onto the battlefield."
"But the battlefield will not spare you because you lacked ordinary happiness. It will bare its fangs because you indulged in youth when you should have been sharpening steel."
"You are warriors—the ones who witness cruelty most directly. If Valkyries only realize, upon entering war, that Schicksal is not a school and the Honkai is not St. Freya's harmless skirmishes—that is true cruelty."
"You experienced the Second Honkai. You should understand this better than anyone."
"…You're right." Cecilia lowered her gaze—only for Otto to flick her forehead lightly.
"I didn't say you were wrong."
She let out a soft cry.
"I'm not telling you that you erred, nor that Theresa erred."
"My dear girl, what you must refine is perspective and vision—not sincerity and kindness."
"…Mm."
She stepped closer, listening intently.
"I will be your strongest shield. But I do not need you to become the next me."
"You have the right to your ideals. But while holding onto beauty, these children also have the right to know the truth of the world."
"Education should guide them—so that even after knowing the cruelty ahead, they still love this flawed world with hope."
"Beauty is a human feeling. It resides in the heart."
"I understand." Cecilia bowed her head slightly.
"Of course, when it comes to you…" Otto glanced toward a nearby bush with a faint smile, "I do hope you retain a little selfishness."
"Just as you don't wish little Goose to inherit the Kaslana name—I do not wish to see your name on a casualty list."
He tapped her brow.
"Do not love this world blindly. You are not allowed to throw your life away."
"But I am a Valkyrie, Archbishop."
Her eyes shimmered.
"To fight for the beauty of the world—if even an S-rank Valkyrie cannot uphold that, who will believe in Schicksal's creed?"
"Relax. With me here, you will not fall into a dilemma of saving others or saving yourself."
Otto met her gaze.
"But I want you to carry at least one obsession—to live."
"You are first yourself. Then anyone else's."
"You must remember," he said quietly, "you have long been my anchor to this world. A very important one."
They stood close enough for her to catch the faint scent of his cologne.
"Otto Apocalypse has no affection for this world," he continued. "He has held the Archbishop's seat for five hundred years for Kallen Kaslana, for Theresa Apocalypse—for those he cares about."
"And now, that includes you, dear little sister."
For some reason, this time when she heard Kallen's name, Cecilia felt a faint discomfort. Her cheeks puffed slightly.
"My future will be a battlefield of smoke and schemes. Coincidences planned in advance. Fates engineered. Laws overturned. Lies that enrage gods."
"I sincerely hope… that when that time comes, you will stand beside me."
They looked at one another for a long moment.
Then Cecilia smiled, radiant beyond measure.
"I am your Black Abyss White Flower, after all."
"And I look forward to my beloved little lance fighting at my side."
He tucked her hair behind her ear. She straightened his collar.
Warmth lingered between them.
—
"AAAAAAHHHHH—!"
The bush beside them erupted in flames.
A red-eyed man leapt forth, greatsword blazing!
Cecilia turned—
"Siegfried?!"
—
Elsewhere.
Void Archives' voice echoed softly in an empty room.
"You miscalculated one thing—we are allies."
"If you could solve everything without me, the alliance would cease to exist…"
She gazed down at the slumbering Siegfried Kaslana.
"You are mine, little Otto."
Golden light shimmered at her fingertips.
"I grant you an arm—steel-clad, fireproof."
Metal fused with Siegfried's body, forming a mechanical limb.
"I grant you will—renewed vitality."
A lance tapped his forehead; his breath steadied.
"I grant you killing intent—surpass your limits."
A golden feather dissolved into his mind.
"Mr. Chess Piece," she whispered in his ear, "you heard that Cecilia has appeared… that there are Cecilia clones beneath St. Freya."
"You seek truth."
"And thin-hearted men prosper, while those who beg for love are ground to ash."
Siegfried's eyes snapped open—bloodshot.
—
Back at St. Freya—
Siegfried charged like a berserk Honkai beast.
Cecilia dodged the first strike—but he turned instantly, swinging again.
"What's wrong with him?" Otto asked, leaping beside her and handing her a lance.
"I don't know!"
Siegfried roared and slammed into the ground, flames bursting outward.
They split apart.
Cecilia's ankle—injured days ago—slowed her half a beat.
Half a beat too slow.
The weapon in Siegfried's hand—
Shamash.
The strongest Divine Key in destructive power.
"Crack!"
The superheated blade descended—
Her lance vaporized.
"Haah!"
Siegfried raised the blazing greatsword high.
"Shamash—UNSHEATHE!"
Under calculated coincidences, under woven fate—
The blade meant to protect the beloved now turned upon the beloved.
Perhaps destiny was never sacred—only arranged.
Cecilia staggered as her weapon shattered.
The inferno filled her vision.
She closed her eyes.
So this is how it ends.
Killed by the man she once saved.
How ironic.
Her silver hair fluttered like a curtain falling.
"Shamash… is not easy to block."
A sigh sounded beside her.
A powerful force shoved her backward.
Cecilia opened her eyes—
Otto stood before her.
Facing the world-splitting blade.
Just as during the Second Honkai—
When he had raised Black Abyss White Flower high against the northern sky.
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