Epilogue: Salvation

“I know you can hear me. I know you are listening. Once more, I must ask this of you, in accordance with the ancient covenant. So please, please, wherever you are, hear my plea, and answer.”

“Eli, Eli, lama sabachthani.”

That was not Its name. That was not Its title. That was nothing more than a symbol of respect, a word used by a clan wandering in an ancient desert on a long forgotten world to avoid breaking the rules they themselves had placed around It. Yet, somehow, It knew, whenever that word was used, that it referred to It. As for the rest, those words asked for nothing, or complained about everything; they had every meaning, and none. Yet, they were a symbol. A symbol of what It offered to mankind, of the contract they must always remember. Of a contract It had always promised to fulfill.

Arcane felt It stir, felt It think and remember that contract long since lost to living men, long since forsaken by every race and none. Her closed eyes fixed on the doomed world, she lifted her head to the void above and began to sing.

“Eli! Eli! Lama Azavthani!” She cried, words ringing through air and void alike, heard by the dark beasts as things they had never learned, and could not understand. Yet, at the same time, and never; all at once and not at all, there came an echo from the universe. {My Lord, My Lord, Why hast thou forsaken me?}

Arcane, too, heard the reply and smiled softly, a glimmer appearing at the edge of her eyes as she continued to sing in a language no living being had spoken since before any of the current stars had shone. She was answered by a tongue that could not be spoken by any yet was known by all.

“Rachoq mi yeshuati.” {Why art thou so far from me?}

“Div’rey sha agati.” {And from the words of my roaring?”

Arcane listened to the sound fading, the dark beasts rumbling in uncertainty at the force that made even them realize how small they truly were. The thing that listened, the thing that heard her, was now awake. And so she smiled, took another breath, and continued to sing.

“Elohim, ekra yomam w’lo thani.” {Oh my god, I cry in the daytime, but thou hearest not.}

“W’lay’lah w’lo dumiyali.” {And in the nighttime, and am not silent.}

“W’atha qadosh yoshe th’hilot Israel!” {But thou art holy, that inherits the praises of Israel!}

The shouted name rang across the darkness, as Arcane lifted her head and spread her arms to the heavens above, singing louder and louder. It was no longer necessary, for the words she called were known to both of them. Even so, she sang on.

“B’ka batchu avotey’nu” {Our Fathers trusted in thee}

“Batchu wa paleti’mo.” {they trusted, and thou didst deliver them.}

“Elika sa’aq w’nimalatu.” {They cried unto thee, and were delivered.}

“B’ka vatchu w’lo voshu.” {They trusted in thee, and were not confounded.}

Arcane paused in her song, her face upraised, feeling a presence long familiar manifest Itself nearby. Smiling, she bowed her head to the world below and looked upon its dying form, her voice now echoing quietly instead of resounding throughout the heavens.

“W’atha Yehovah al’thirachoq.” {But be not thou far from me, O Yahweh}

“Eyaluti l’ezrati chusha.” {Oh my strength, haste thee to help me.}

“Natsala minchereb nepeshi.” {Deliver my soul from the sword,}

“Miyad-kelev y’chidati.” {My darling from the power of the dog.}

“Hoshiyeni mipi ar’ye.” {Save me from the lion’s mouth,}

“Uminker’ney remiym anitani.” {For thou hast heard me from the horns of the unicorns.}

The being that came in answer flowed over the dark beasts and Arcane herself, Its power washing over the world and dying it in Its colors. At the same time, the terrible fire from the star touched the outer atmosphere, a blazing corona of heat and light surging down through the clouds and blinding all the elfbeasts who saw it. Not that they would last much longer; the fire that came after killed before it touched, with radiation and pressure beyond what even a planet was equipped to handle.

“Asafra shim’ka l’echay.” {I will declare thy name unto my brethren.} Arcane sang as the fires spread across the surface of the world, an expanding ring of death and devastation in a thousand colors.

“B’tavek qahal ahal’leka.” {in the midst of the congregation will I praise thee.} She sang as the cracks in the planet were torn open by fingers of flame and light, great shuddering shaking the entire orb in space as they widened further and further, revealing the red blood of the world itself.

“Yare Yehovah, hallelujah.” {Ye that fear Yahweh, praise Him.}

“Kal-zera ya’akov, kabadujah.” {all ye the seed of yaakov, glorify Him.}

“W’guru mimenu, kal-zera Israel.” {and revere Him, all ye the seed of Israel.}

Arcane sang on as the world broke apart and bled, watching the planet's surface shatter and feeling the countless lives perish. As the light faded, as the fury of the star passed on into the distant void, the presence that surrounded the world expanded Itself, washing over the dark beasts frozen in fear. Arcane looked to it, and waited, singing only a few more words directly to It.

“Yizakar w’yashub el’Yehovah kal’efec aretz.” {All the ends of the world shall remember and turn unto Yahweh.}

“W’yish’achaw l’panemka kal’mishpacha goyim.” {And all the kindreds of the nations shall worship before thee.}

“Ki la’Yehovah hameluka umashel ba’goyim.” {For the kingdom is Yahweh’s, and He the governor among the nations.}

She let her voice trail away, the echoes in space fading as the presence seemed to face her. The dark beasts, simply watching without being able to react to the fading of the star or the power that had come before them, waited as the two faced each other down.

Then, she and It vanished, going somewhere that no living being had ever gone since an ending long forgotten, save only one.

Annabelle opened her eyes in an unfamiliar place. Pushing herself to her paws, she looked around without wondering too much about how she came to be laying on the ground.

As far as she could see, in every direction, stretched a vast plain of pale green grass and a clear blue sky. There were no hills, nor any mountains in the distance or clouds in the sky. High above, almost directly above her, shone a single light of brilliant white almost blinding her when she looked at it. Squinting against its light, far stronger than the sun she knew, Annabelle measured it with her paw and found that it was slightly off center. She was not directly below it, but some other point not far from her was. Annabelle looked in that direction by some unknowable instinct, feeling that that was where she should go, but saw nothing. Shaking her head, she looked around again and saw nothing more than the endless plain and empty sky.

Then she felt a chill as she remembered. Remembered a bargain struck in the midst of despair, and a wish that she knew had to be impossible but was still promised nonetheless. Remembered blinding light, and a burning pain before eternal darkness that made her stretch her hands to her eyes and just look at them for a while. Then she remembering fire, and death, and destruction. A world shaking apart, a harbinger of fire and fury that would massacre all who lived and even the world itself. And so she huddled in on herself again, shaking in pain and guilt and torment at the memory of attempting the destruction of her world itself. Then that light above, so much brighter than normal, must be…

“I’ve always loved this place.”

A clear voice interrupted her thoughts, familiar and yet extremely unfamiliar. It was steady and calm, with a high pitch like a child but a maturity unbefitting of that nature, just as she remembered. But this time that voice was not perfectly steady, filled with emotions deeper and more thorough than any Annabelle could imagine from the speaker.

Even so, she slowly turned around and saw exactly who she expected, a tiny, in-elfbeast girl wearing a dress of some bright blue-green hue and hair of the same color fluttering in a nonexistent breeze. Her expressionless face was focused on a point far in the distance, the precise point that Annabelle was drawn to that lay beneath the pure white light.

“Arcane…” Annabelle started to say, rising to greet the girl appropriately, when her eyes met with the swirling rainbow pupils of the finally opened eyes beneath the cyan hair of the girl in front of her. She was instantly captivated, her mind following color after color and trying to read the patterns dancing about just slightly faster than she could perceive. She felt herself falling, plummeting endlessly through a cavernous well of swirling colors into a darkness that held infinity and made it seem tiny. She was unable to think of anything else, unable to feel or notice anything except those fascinating eyes, much less move or look away.

Arcane noticed after a second, blinking rapidly to break the spell while Annabelle quickly looked away, panting. “I thought you were blind.” She commented when she re-gathered her wits, looking but not looking at the girl beside her.

“No.” Arcane said simply. Annabelle was about to open her mouth to voice another question when Arcane sighed and took a step forward. “Walk with me.” She commanded, not waiting for a reply or seeming to consider being disobeyed.

Annabelle was startled, but decided to follow her nonetheless. By some chance, or perhaps none at all, Arcane was heading towards the point beneath the sun. Annabelle herself wanted to go there anyway, though she knew not why, and decided it was no trouble to tag along with the girl who seemed to know much better where they were. Perhaps it was the place beyond the great desert, or somewhere even beyond the world she knew.

“Once upon a time, this place was always crowded.” Arcane talked as if to herself, pausing to look around at the barren plains. Annabelle caught up, but politely waited for her to start moving again before falling into step beside her. “Parents waiting for children, husbands for wives, friends for friends, the wealthy for their heirs, the poor for their remembrance. Countless souls, high and low, good and evil, mundane and arcane, strong and weak… They came from every direction, camping out for days or weeks or years. Some even lasted centuries before passing on.”

Arcane stopped and sighed, kicking at a clump of grass beneath her foot. “It was a different time.”

Annabelle did not comment, sensing somehow that Arcane did not wish for her to speak yet. She had endless questions, about how they got here, about the power she had been granted, about the impending destruction of her world and why Arcane didn’t seem bothered by it. But for now, she simply waited as the girl collected herself on those endless plains beneath that cloudless sky.

“My species was the first, and perhaps the only, intelligent life to evolve completely naturally.” Arcane continued as she resumed her walk, the sudden change in subject catching Annabelle off guard. “We had no magic, were unable to cultivate, lacked any gods to guide us, or any spirits to show us the way. Imperfect, flawed, weak; even we thought that of ourselves. Of all the myriad lives and species to emerge from the infinite universe, we were undeniably the lowest.”

Arcane stopped, shaking her head and looking up at the clear sky above. “Yet, even so, we struggled on.” She smiled up at the light above, her eyes seemingly unaffected by its brightness. “In our weakness, in our uncertainty, we sought to better ourselves. Sometimes, we succeeded. Sometimes, we failed. But always it was that very weakness that drove us on. And in time, it was that very weakness that gave us such success.”

“We were born without fur, and so we stole fire from the storm and used it to warm our shrouded caves. We were born without claws, so we chiseled rocks into points and blades, sharpened them to pierce the hides of the beasts that hunted us and devour them ourselves. We were born without mighty teeth, or armored hides, without eyes to see through darkness or ears to hear the footsteps of the prey.” Arcane laments, making Annabelle consider her own species. Fur to cover them from the cold, claws to tear apart prey, mighty teeth to rend flesh and eyes and ears that could pierce even the darkest night. Every one of the things Arcane claimed her own kind lacked, Annabelle could not imagine being without. In a dangerous world, those without them couldn’t survive.

“Yet, in time, we improved.” Arcane said, walking forward with determination in her step as if mirroring her story. “From those sparks of stolen fire we created great engines of steel and crystal, and stole the power of the sun itself to ferry us between the stars. From the chiseled stones with which we battled claw and fang we forged things that could tear through space and time, and rend the very fabric of reality. From the endless cycle of failure, we learned wisdom and knowledge: to undo the deepest cold, create the most impenetrable armor, see through the darkest night or hear the whispers of the slightest wind. And with it we became the strongest, surpassing our world itself, surpassing the very stars and galaxies of the infinite heavens above, and finally surpassing everything else that has been, or will ever be.”

“We called ourselves humanity. Born from dirt, shaped from clay, made weakest of all the living, we are the strongest race to have ever lived.” Arcane declared, stopping and raising her hand to the white star above in a gesture of triumph and pride. “For we were the ones who created God.”

Annabelle finally saw the light as Arcane pointed to it, her eyes at first involuntarily following the motion before she gasped and stared at it. For in that light were figures, shaped like Arcane, with great wings of white feathers flying to and from the brilliance in the sky above. As she lowered her eyes to Arcane’s own, not meeting the hypnotic swirls of rainbow color, she felt it was finally time for her to speak.

“Where are we?” She asked, knowing that this was not her world any longer.

“The domain of Yahweh ket Israel, Lord of Heaven and Earth.” Arcane said, looking towards the point below the blinding light. “We stand upon the plains of Elysium, walking towards the city of Heaven in the final world.”

“... Elysium.” Annabelle repeated, tasting the unfamiliar word. “But how did we get here? And why am only I spared, when I…”

Arcane turned to look at her, her steady gaze causing Annabelle to drop her face out of guilt or a desire to avoid those enchanting pupils. Above her, she heard a soft sigh and felt a hand rest on her shoulder. “You were not spared, Annabelle of Roses.” Arcane told her, causing her to look up in confusion. “You see, Elysium is not a world for the living. It is a waypoint for those who are already dead.”

Annabelle took a few seconds to process, then gasped in disbelief. She put her paw over her chest and shook her head, refusing that unthinkable possibility. Those who died went on to the blazing plains, that was known. Those who were favored would be consumed by the fire, their cultivation used to power the…

Annabelle realized that her heart was not racing. Her breath had caught, but she felt no pain from the shortness of it. Her eyes, which she distinctly remembered being gone, were intact. As she lowered her paw from chest, she stared at Arcane and opened her mouth very slowly. “I… am dead?”

“Yes.” Arcane affirmed, looking towards the point under the light once more.

“Then you…?” Annabelle started to ask, but Arcane shook her head.

“No. The living are allowed to visit here, but it has been far, far too long since any have. Not since mankind still ruled the universe.” Arcane explained, sadly looking out across the plain.

“Mankind… your race?” Annabelle confirmed. Arcane nodded in affirmation.

“Then… this Yahweh… is this what you meant by a god?” Annabelle asked, looking around her.

“Perhaps.” Arcane shrugged. “Perhaps not. Yahweh was forged by men, after all.”

“Forged…” Annabelle repeated, seeing the infinite plains before her. “Your kind… created this?”

Arcane smiled and nodded. “Heaven… is perhaps the greatest of our achievements. In terms of beauty, it was far from the peak; in terms of power, it barely even registered. Crowded, stuffy, regulated to no end… It had far too many flaws for us to consider it perfect. Yet…” She looked up at the star hanging above and the winged messengers flowing to and from it. “Of all we have created, it still endures. A legacy, a memorial, to the forgotten dead of eons upon eons of lost time.”

Arcane sighed again, looking up at the bright light and seeming to fall into the past. “This place was created long before I was born. At its time, it was considered the crowning glory of mankind; our highest achievement.”

Annabelle remained silent, listening. She realized that she would not be able to ask the right questions, not about this place, not when Arcane so clearly remembered it with such emotion. The cyan haired girl proved her right, bowing her head and looking towards the endless plains.

“Seven hundred seventy seven hexillion. And that was an underestimation, at that. Of the number who joined together to make this place, the unified prayers of a million galaxies filled with so many billions of trillions of humans to finally make real that which we had sought since our inception. A creator; a purpose. We sought throughout the cosmos, dove back in time, tested and experimented and played god with a hundred thousand worlds to try to find the answers He promised us. Why are we here? What were we created for? What comes after death?” Arcane shook her head in memory. “Our science could reveal the truth of the universe and rip a star from the sky, but it could not answer. Our history told tales of heroes and villains uncountable, but they could not show us the way. Even the weakness in our blood made those questions simply more enigmatic, more uncertain; gave us all the more need to know.”

Arcane looked up at the sphere above again. “Yet seven hundred seventy seven hexillion prayers combined, speaking in one voice, in one moment, unifying the thoughts of more living beings that have existed in all the universes since to create a single hope, a single plea. Give us a sign, they asked. And, impossibly, He answered.”

“Our Father, who art in heaven. Hallowed be thy name.” Arcane started in an even voice, but a voice echoed around her to finish it in the form of a song. Annabelle merely listened, imagining she can hear the voices beyond number that Arcane claimed first created it.

“Thy kingdom come, thy will be done, on earth as it is in heaven.

Give us this day, our daily bread. And forgive us our trespasses, as we forgive who trespass against us. And lead us not into temptation, but deliver us from evil.

For thine is the kingdom, and the power, and the glory for ever. A, men.”

Arcane snorts as it ends, rolling her multicolored eyes. “Kingdom, power, glory… hah. We forged gods by their thousands; to fulfill every dream and desire, once we learned how. We concentrated energy, designed cultivation to amass it in our bodies that we ourselves might become gods like them. We focused that power into tools and weapons, harnessed it through contracts and faith, anticipated it in blood, sullied it with wealth, lauded those with talent in it. We tore it from its spot in heaven and made it nothing more than another aspect of our earth. How utterly… ridiculous.” She snarled, baring her teeth in an aggressive grin.

“...” Annabelle remained silent, thinking, wondering, listening. To tell the truth she did not understand the scale of the thing of which Arcane spoke, the immense significance of the creation of a god or the harnessing of its power as a weapon. So she simply waited, and listened.

Arcane sensed that, and sighed. “But my complaints about my past are my issue, not yours. I apologize. This place always makes me a bit… sentimental, perhaps. Here I am closest to that which once was… and may never be again.” Arcane looks into the distance, her rainbow eyes swirling slowly as she stares at the boundless horizon. “Not even I am immune to grief.”

Annabelle nods, looking out towards the horizon herself and seeing green and blue alone, the clear air never seeming to stop her sight. She felt as if she could see forever, as if she could walk that way from now until the end of eternity and never reach the furthest point she saw. It was almost as hypnotic as Arcane’s eyes, she decided as she shook her head and looked back towards the ground. “Why did you bring me here?”

“... For salvation.” Arcane answered, abruptly resuming her walk towards the point beneath the light.

Annabelle hurried to catch up. “What do you mean, salvation?” She demanded, not seeing how she needed to be saved. If she was already dead, it was kind of pointless, wasn’t it? Unless Arcane could return the dead to life… “Are you going to bring me back to life?”

“Even I cannot do some things, child.” Arcane shook her head. “Or at least I will not. No, the salvation I speak of is something very different from that.”

“... What do you mean, then?” Annabelle asked in a snide tone that Arcane did not seem to notice. She simply walked in silence for a time, until Annabelle grew frustrated and growled, “Explain yourself!”

“What do you know of sin?” Arcane asked, looking towards the distant green.

“Sin? Never heard of it.” Annabelle replied immediately. This was not what she asked, she thought to herself.

“That’s not surprising.” Arcane muttered. “The concept of evil in actions was defined by nearly every religion; the concept of evil in thoughts, well, that came from only one.” Annabelle waited, sure Arcane was actually going somewhere this time. “In essence, sin is the source of guilt and regret, the premise that some things we wish we had not done, some feeling we wish we did not feel. Our punishment towards ourselves for the crimes we believe we have committed.”

Arcane stopped and looked directly at Annabelle, holding her in place with those unnatural eyes of hers. “The sin of failing to save someone we care about, perhaps, or of destroying all that we hold dear in a moment of rage.”

Annabelle swallowed, her ears and tail stiffening for a second. Guilt? Yes, she did feel guilt about what had happened. But even so… “Call it failure, call it sin, what does it matter? That does not explain anything, Arcane.” She said aggressively.

“No.” Arcane replied softly. “But those emotions that we curse ourselves with after all is said and done… they take a toll. And many believe that after death, we carry that burden with us, and are punished for it.”

Annabelle snorted. “There is nothing after death, Arcane.”

“So many claimed, once.” Arcane agreed, whirling to continue her walk. “All biological and chemical functions had stopped, all processes that could be called thought were ended, nothing remained but an empty husk that decayed into oblivion.” Arcane shook her head and smiled at the sun. “But… the soul is real, Annabelle. Else even seven hundred and seventy seven hexillion prayers would not be enough.”

“...” Annabelle was once again quiet, thinking about it. It made sense, honestly. That there was life after death, that there was something waiting beyond. Perhaps she could see her father again, perhaps the black prince was being punished for his crimes. Then she grimaced. If the Black Prince was being punished, then she would not be any better off. After all, he had merely destroyed a nation. She had destroyed a world.

“When we learned that, our primordial fears came back. What if we were punished? What if we had done wrong, and never known it? Could there perhaps be… an escape?” Arcane continued, her eyes steady and her voice clear. “How fortunate for us that we had already created the very method we now so desperately sought.” She laughed.

“What do you mean?” Annabelle asked, not thinking the possibility of punishment after death to be a laughing matter. How long would it last? What form would it take? Yet even so, would it change her mind, about anything she had done?

“Eli, Eli, Lama Sabachthani.” Arcane said in a language Annabelle could not understand. “The precise meaning is not entirely clear, unfortunately; the ancient tongues of man are long forgotten. However, that those are the words spoken on the heights of Golgotha in the oldest age of man is undeniable. The words that signify the newly written covenant, between man on earth, and god in heaven:

“Believe, and you shall be forgiven. Accept, and you shall be blessed. Worship, and you shall be rewarded.”

Arcane smiled up at the light above. “It sounds so… unbelievable. And perhaps in this world, it is; for so much, to be given for so little. Yet… It was a powerful ideal. That all wrongs could be made right, and all goods receive reward; that an all loving god cherished each and every one of us with a purity beyond conception.” She shook her head. “Perhaps that is why, of all the beliefs and faiths of man throughout the ages of time, it has been most enduring.”

“... Salvation.” Annabelle said, pieces falling into place. “To be forgiven of sins, blessed by this god, and rewarded in the beyond death.”

“Yes.” Arcane agreed.

Annabelle nodded, things making sense to her now, although how such a powerful being existed or why it was willing to help her she could not understand. “Why?” She voiced that very concern. “Why me, why all of this?”

Arcane shrugged. “Perhaps, because you seem a bit like me. That is why I gave you that sword, and that power; that is why I stood by as you burned the world around you, even though it was technically my own fault.”

“That was not your choice, Arcane.” Annabelle protested, glaring at the colorful girl. “That was my own decision, not yours.”

“Does it matter?” Arcane tilted her head. “I do not think so. It is not like I would have allowed your world to survive anyway; things far too dangerous were brewing on it, and it was more convenient for me to leave nothing behind. That you did so for me I am grateful for, yes, but I will not pretend I did not help that along.”

Annabelle drew in a quick breath as Arcane casually mentioned destroying the world before she left, staring at the other girl. “... why?” She wondered aloud.

“Haha.” Arcane chuckled lightly. “If we compare the number of worlds I’ve destroyed to the number of people you killed I would far surpass you. If we compare it to the number of insects you’ve accidentally squashed the gap gets closer, but still remains insurmountable. It would have been more convenient for me, nothing more and nothing less.”

Annabelle stared at Arcane for a while before giving up, dropping her head and continuing to walk along the endless plain. “So you offer me salvation in exchange for… that?”

“Not really.” Arcane denied. “I offer you salvation for the simple reason that I want to. That’s all.”

“You really are…” Annabelle started, disbelieving. “... strange.”

“I thank you.” Arcane replies with sincere gratitude.

They walked in silence for a while longer, until directly below the white light a gleaming city of unbelievable size came into view. Arcane stopped once it did, looking up at the towering pillars of white and the shining walls of purity. Annabelle went forward a couple more steps before doing the same, wanting to go to the city but wondering why Arcane had stopped.

“This is all the further I go, I’m afraid.” Arcane said, looking at the city beyond Annabelle. “The true kingdom of heaven lies within those walls. You should be feeling an instinct to go closer, to follow some path; just follow it and you’ll reach the gates. There will be someone like me waiting for you there; his name is Peter.”

Arcane smiled softly as if in memory. “Saint Peter; he is even older than I, and would not be happy to see me again, I suspect. He will let you pass; He owes me that much. Once you enter the city, you will be cleansed of sins. After that, it’s just a matter of time before you pass on; how, I am not precisely sure. I’ve never died, after all.” She giggled at her own joke while Annabelle watched her. “Say hi to Yahweh for me, if you see him. And, Annabelle… I’m sorry. For everything.”

Arcane bowed her head, before straightening and turning away. Annabelle called after her. “Arcane!” The girl paused, looking back. Annabelle hesitated for what to say, then finally decided to just be blunt. “I… I… I don’t regret it, you know. Everything that happened… I feel like it all makes so much more sense, now. Even with what I did… I don’t think I’d do any differently, even if I knew how it would all turn out. So there’s no need for you to apologize!”

Arcane smiled and nodded. “You don’t regret it? That’s good. It seems there will be less to clean than I thought, then.” She turned away and waved over her shoulder as she walked off. “Safe travels, then! And I hope you find what you desire.”

Annabelle nodded and turned, taking a deep breath before starting the long walk towards the pearly gates of the white city before her.

Arcane watched her while walking the other way, then turned her eyes up to the glory in the sky. Here, in the personal domain of the strongest god known to man, her power was possible to suppress, and so she could look upon the world without fear. She smiled, waiting as one of the winged figures descended to where she waited, shining in eternal light.

“Last Daughter of Eve.” it greeted in a deep, sonorous voice.

“First son of Heaven… or should I call you the second?” Arcane replied, smiling slightly. “After all, Luciel technically came first, didn’t she, Michael?”

“It matters not.” The figure responded, looking towards the catgirl making her way to the Holy city. “She bears much… yet her heart is pure. Another lost lamb returned to the fold.”

“Yes.” Arcane agreed. “Take care of her, won’t you?”

“When have we ever not?” Michael wondered, wings of light beating softly around them. “Still, I would ask… Why do you avoid the Holy City, Last Daughter? The Father has waited long to forgive you, yet you continue to choose torment over salvation.”

“My sins are not so easily forgiven, Michael.” Arcane said coldly, looking towards the city with a distant expression. “Not even by your god. I will continue to bear them, myself.”

“... It is every man’s choice to accept salvation.” Michael accepted softly. “I hope you find the answers you seek soon. You have been in pain far, far too long, Arcane.”

Arcane remained silent, simply waiting while Michael spread his luminous wings and ascended back to the blinding light above. She sighed softly, shaking her head once he was beyond the ability to hear, though she knew his master was not. “I no longer even know if it is possible for me to find them, Michael. But even so, I will continue to search. As for my pain…” She grimaced, looking away from the city at the endless plains and imagining she saw something there. “I knew the cost when I made my choice. It is nothing more than I deserve.”

She turned, disappearing from the endless plains of heaven and reemerging into the darkness of the void, the greenish blue orb of the living world shining below her. The dark beasts seemed to have barely noticed her disappearance, focused on the overwhelming power of the god around them.

Yahweh surged, omnipresent and yet focused here, and withdrew from seeming to focus on Arcane and instead turned his attention to the world. He seemed to ask her a question, and she whispered into the void in answer. “All of it. There need be nothing left behind.”

The eldest god agreed, and the world began to collapse. Its energy dissipated, its light was withdrawn, the traces of the unstable star that had once blown it away removed from the memory of the universe. Arcane watched as every trace of the elfbeasts civilization, of the Rose Kingdom and its prideful princess, of the east and west divided, even of the lizards in their desert and the myriad beasts in the darkened forests, was removed totally from everything.

“In sure and certain hope of resurrection to eternal life through our Lord, I commend you to the Almighty.” Arcane whispered as the planet fell in on itself, great holes opening in its surface as the interior of the world was removed Yahweh’s power. “And commit your body to the void; earth to earth, ashes to ashes, dust to dust. The Lord bless you and keep you; the Lord shine upon you and be gracious to you. And let his countenance be on you and give you peace. Amen.” She bowed her head in prayer over clasped hands as the collapsing world scattered at the loss of the gravity holding it together. The dust, too, slowly faded from existence, leaving nothing but emptiness behind.

Soon, the God of Israel, of Christ and Muhammed, and a thousand more prophets besides, withdrew His presence from the system and allowed things to start moving again. Shaitan looked at his pet in confusion, then around the system. Romeo and Juliet didn’t seem at all confused, and Nemesis was now wondering why they were all waiting around.

{{It seems this system, too, was fruitless.}} Romeo announced, rippling in discontent. {{We may have to travel outside our domains to find food for your pet, Shaitan.}}

{{More Adventures, yay!}} Nemesis exclaimed in joy, Juliet tolerantly watching the younger dark beast circle around her in the darkness of space.

Shaitan looked at Arcane in concern, and noticed her eating a small, rounded thing of a yellowed red hue. She smiled as she took each bite, her closed eyes somehow conveying happiness and satisfaction despite her earlier claims not to need to eat. {{Where did you get that?}} He asked as she slowly ate the fruit.

“Don’t you remember, void swimmer?” Arcane asked teasingly, holding up a small bag containing several of them. “You gave these to me, after all.”

{{Oh.}} Shaitan replied, not entirely convinced. {{Well, that’s good. It seems I still cannot find a mortal planet for you, though… I am sorry.}}

“It’s perfectly fine.” Arcane answered, letting him pull her back inside his body with one of his tongues. “I don’t think I’d do so well meeting any mortals yet anyway.”

{{I see.}} Shaitan replied, though he really didn’t and was simply chalking it up as another of his pet’s eccentricities. {{Well, I’ll find you something soon. Remember to be careful when I do; you are weak, after all.}}

“I wonder.” Arcane smiled, shaking her head. “Tell me, void swimmer. Would you like me to tell you a story? It’s a tale of adventure and hardships, strangers and treachery, struggle and hope, then defeat and, eventually... salvation.”