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Mutually reaching out for him as she tried to dash up to him, praying to help him, cracking a small hopeful smile. As the petrification was settling in, her left eye mirrored his, breaking a sorrowful tear - destroying that last optimistic smile. Her voice cracked up, barely murmuring a heartbroken sound in complete grief, mouthing out air,
"...N-no... Dear... Please... Stay with me... "
Her palm quenched, trembling as they were overcome with lamentation once more having rewitnessed what she feared as the petrification finalised. Shaking for a moment as her very body felt the running sickening sensation of loss course through her body, she heaved air intently, becoming overwhelmed in emotion as it built up over the scene.
Angrily, her face warped in determination, charging in, trying to resist the otherworldy entities in effort to strike back at them in retribution, keeping to her promise of her protection to him. Nevermind the Final Journey, she still ultimately thought of him as a dear friend, not as a tool, unlike Harbinger and everyone else.
Her actions against the ruinous waves of ethereal tendrils would only result in her untimely death. Many of them pierced her limbs, forcing her on a kneeling position before she started feeling her own mind twist and bend. Fading away into the nothingness of the void. Eventually she had only become part of the environment as a soulless statue fallen prey to the waves of change.
Again. Her eyes opened only to see herself at the bed of the same lake she first emerged from. In the distance her former body laid bare, already covered by rot. Whether she was a copy or the original never felt so indistinguishable. Like a hard reset she found herself next to the lake facing the two giants clashing, while the winged Sun kept watch over her every move. Never moving. Always watching.
"Test the sharpness of your sword against another. And when that is not enough, unsheathe your cunning as the hidden dagger that ends the fight."
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Once more, emerging out of the lake, completely disorientated, fluttering with a blink within her eye. What just happened? Was it a dream? Did she wake up - ... No, she had come to realisation from the displacement. She died. This isn't a dream. It is a psychic connection. That gnawing pain that grated all around her mind. Glaring down at her palms, then back at the environment, the realisation hit. Her mind felt wabbled, warped all over, confused. Observing the environment once more, she glared up to the two giants, the sensation of deja vu was incapacitating. Debating, whether that corpse in the distance was truly hers or not, confusion arose.
But what was for certain was the determination, burning furiously within her own spirit. Snapping onto the tentacles. She went again. That fierce loyalty burning through in interest of trying to vanquish the infestation. She tried.
And again.
And again.
The bodies kept piling on. The mind kept fragmenting, more and more. But there was no progression, after the sixth attempt, she was completely splintered, mentally incapable of piecing together thoughtlines. There was only one focus, Vincent himself. An obsession to protect gone wrong. A small column of her own bodies, petrified in a hallway, each succumbing to loss in their own way.
Stumbling around like a corpse, she did not know what she was finding for, only that her feelings were bringing her to the great Temple. The mind was spinning. Spinning. Mental coherence was slipping into madness, barely holding together. Yet that odd determination remained. The 'cursed' trait of inquisition afflicted upon her mind years ago from an alien artifact. It added on to the drive, the 'instinct' to investigate. Beckoning the ruptured soul to move forth.
Her approach to the Cathedral became more and more intense. The ground shook as if an earthquake was taking place. Whispers began to hum in Raven's mind, overriding everything she said within the confines of her own mind with chanting she could not decipher. The sickening landscape surrounding the monument was littered with hundreds of statues in different poses expressing a sense of despair and pain. Through their wounds a foul smell escaped. Every crack had a green glow to it, followed by a smell not unlike sulfur should anyone be "daring" enough to take a wiff. It was an eerie atmosphere nonetheless, and the closer Raven got to the large, closed doors, the more her vision would be impaired by a thick smog appearing out of nowhere. All of it fell quiet. Dead silence as she took one, seemingly random step forward.
Caretakers, they were called. Shadowy figures just barely floating above the ground, patrolling the Courtyard. Some were vicious, some were merely tending to the statues. And then there were Preachers. Hulking monstrosities with tendrils hanging from their backs and a bright light resembling floodlights coming out of their head. Every step they took was an imposing stomp, leaving marks into the dead grass. Their pattern was so fixed that there were no steps taken outside of their normal routes.
Among all the whispers clouding Raven's mind, one stood out. Thousands of voices merged into one, speaking louder than all the others. Its words were coated in a familiar warmth, not unlike the Harbinger's. Yet there was something else. A feeling she could not identify even if she tried her best.
Come, Bird. Cast your sins away at the door. Let your soul wander the path of freedom. Of enlightenment. Your arrival has been long overdue.
"Test the sharpness of your sword against another. And when that is not enough, unsheathe your cunning as the hidden dagger that ends the fight."
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Slumbering forth into the endless fog, her senses swirled - overwhelmed by the chanting voices echoing on, still perceiving the rancid mist that escaped the cracks. Noticing the creatures, her mind barely perceived the pattern, the marks they left in their tracks. Quietly, she attempted to sneak by, slipping within the mist that drowned the area.
The pain remained within the head, ever so lightly grunting as they ventured forth, feeling the weight of the noise putting pressure on. That voice that emerged, a vague familiarity, yet so distant... Incapable of thought, only murmured broken words muttered in silence could emerge from the shattered pieces of the mind that barely held together,
The doors leading deeper into the Cathedral creaked open as she stepped closer. Unlike the stinging smell of sulfur on the outside, a breeze blew a sweet aroma towards Raven, inviting her with the warmth that followed. The hallways were adorned with various trophies and paintings left haphazardly against the wall. Everything was covered by a thick layer of dust as if no one has visited in years, and the further she advanced the further she could see every decision made by the man she tried to protect.
Some paintings were well worn, and some outright torn apart, clawed diagonally from one side to the other. Their condition worsened the further Raven progressed down the hallway until reaching a wide, open space with thick pillars in eight points of the room. The ninth pillar was different from the rest. Compared to the rugged, baroque finish the others had, this one was entirely smooth and covered in webs all the way to the top.
A bright light shined from the top of the pillar, illuminating the area around the pillar where a tall figure stood, floating above the ground like all the others. Yet its aura was different. Its tendrils floated against the wind, towards the south. A sense of familiarity grew stronger the closer she would get to it. And it only stared back. Its head tilting ever so slightly to either side with every step. The whispers tormenting her mind slowly ceased, dominated by Its soft voices expressing themselves at unison.
"Welcome home."
"Test the sharpness of your sword against another. And when that is not enough, unsheathe your cunning as the hidden dagger that ends the fight."
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Briefly investigating the paintings as she made her way in, a vague familiarity was had, yet there was no mental clarity to process such things. Having ignored it, the sensation was piquing her instictual curiosity, cautiously following the path laid along the decrepit hallways.
There it was. The bipedal figure that hovered above the pillar captivated her interest. Glaring at it in silence, trying to assess it as the voices faded out, providing some relief to the tormented soul. Curiosity raised higher, and as the conscious slowly pieced itself together, the relayed message invoked inner conflictation, that certain insecurity about identity.
"Yes." it paused, gesturing with a firm horizontal waving motion, using one of its hanging tendrils. Raven would find every instance of her death, now exposed on pedestals positioned symmetrically along the hallway she had just walked through. Each in the same striking pose before death. "Home."
The entity closed the gap between itself and Raven in a swift, fluid motion. It stood dangerously close to her. Its tendrils shifting around, as if looking for something. It then spoke again. "Another piece of the puzzle. Father never failed to dissappoint, even if pieces fight. it pondered before continuing its inspection upon the newest guest to be welcomed under its roof. A sense of familiarity in you. A sliver of Father's presence resting within.
"Test the sharpness of your sword against another. And when that is not enough, unsheathe your cunning as the hidden dagger that ends the fight."
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As it sharply closed the gap, she remained unmoving - figuring she was about to die, gawking at it with a confused hunch to her posture, glaring sideways. As it affirmed its affiliation to Harbinger, some clarity came to mind. How it perhaps came to be. Her theory regarding the psychometric imprint of the Dyson Ore Vincent held may have had some substance to it.
"The Key."
Retaining the dead-pan glare, listening to it half-drunkenly from prior disorientation. Blinking slowly, she affirmed its observation, but there was evident distrust to its motives - not elaborating too much in vain effort of trying to see its angle,
"Fragments of yourself. Lost as you threw them away at the waves of change. Feeble attempts at saving the future sacrificial lamb."
Its words were woven in sadness as it spoke. Slight disappointment dripped down between every sentence. It looked up, gazing at the Unmoving Sun, and the Sun looked back.
"Father enacts influence upon you. When the time comes, will you sacrifice the one you fought valiantly to keep alive, yet shunned through your acts of despair? A question, worthy of an answer to be put on display for the events to come. "
"Test the sharpness of your sword against another. And when that is not enough, unsheathe your cunning as the hidden dagger that ends the fight."
![[Image: boueOSq.png?1]](https://i.imgur.com/boueOSq.png?1)