Nupian’s head jerked and slipped out of her hand supporting it. Her eyes snapped open. Her heart-shaped pupils cracked. Pinkish blood, sweet and cold, seeped out of them. She opened her mouth and exhaled a puff of alcoholic vapours. Wine fragrances permeated her room, mixing with scents from her candles and mind-soothing incense.

She was sitting on a marble chair, drinking a glass of martini, when she sensed her Mark of Love. When Iris allowed it to take over her body, the mark established an unbreakable connection between them.

Unfortunately, the connection tore itself asunder when . . . what happened?

A splitting headache gripped Nupian. Fragments of her memory played in her mind, some parts concealed by thick and unclearable haze, others blanked out of existence.

She descended on Iris’s body and . . . and something happened. A crisis loomed over her. Nupian helped her, but why?

Pondering her forgotten motive, she gazed, through the window of her cabin, at the rippling reflection of the orange, solemn sun. Calm ocean waves rose and fell, casting onto the body of water their droplets, whose surfaces reflected sunlight and muddled the reflection.

“Honey, what are you thinking about?” a meek voice resounded.

Nupian recalled her focus and smiled. She turned to her king-sized bed, where an ethereal beauty sat. Subralia, cloaked under a thin white veil, drew her green hair behind her right ear. Her eyes playfully teased her wife, though she remained still, waiting.

“Our Iris, she’s in danger,” Nupian said. “I . . . failed to save her. Would all of you blame me?”

Nupian looked around the room. Multiple ladies, dressed in identical wedding dresses, stood and sat and chatted and danced with each other. They gradually quietened and turned to Nupian. They flashed her various smiles, cute, gentle, cold, flirtatious, elegant.

“Look at her, everyone, she’s pretending to be sad,” one of the brides said. “Should we comfort her?”

“She deserved it. Let her be sad.”

The brides tattered and jested Nupian, who lowered her head, her cheeks slightly pinkening. Subralia didn’t join the teases; she walked to her wife and grasped her hands.

“Do you believe in her, Honey?” she said.

“She’s my most special, our most special.”

“Then she’ll endure.”

Nupian leaned on her loveliest bride and kissed her cheek. Before her lust could take over, she separated from her bride and grabbed a briefcase under the table. She placed it on the table, drank the last bit of her martini, and unlocked the case.

Inside it lay an exquisite doll, knitted by hands, soaked in affection. It lay on a tiny heart-shaped bed, besides piles of gemstones, toys, and fake candies. Its appearance, most resembling Iris, seemed lifelike as if it were a part of Iris lost through history.

Nupian carefully held the doll in her embrace, nuzzled it against her breasts, and picked up a tiny laced choker.

Subralia examined the doll before she giggled. Her crystalised voice brightened the atmosphere, intensifying the candle radiance.

“What are you waiting for?” she said.

Nupian held Iris’s doll and tried to put the choker on her neck, but she stopped when her gaze landed on Iris’s innocent pupils. They silently stared at her, questioning her motive.

Another piece of fragmented memory appeared in her mind: the cost of her legacy.

“I . . . was I . . . blinded by revenge?” Nupian stopped her hands and raised her head. “Because of me, you all become like this. No matter what I do, you’re all trapped—”

Subralia grabbed Nupian’s wrists and squeezed them tenderly. “Because of you, we’ve lived through our deaths, and you . . . are no longer alone. Never forget, Honey: we’re always by your side.”

Nupian watched Subralia’s bright eyes and sighed. “Sorry to trouble you, Subria. I should have more confidence in myself.”

“Maybe that’s why I’m here.”

Nupian heartily laughed. She returned to Iris’s doll and, after taking a deep breath, wore her the mystical choker. It delicately wrapped around her neck, morphed to fit her shape, and became one with her membrane.

“Iris, I’m coming for you. Please wait for me, for us.”

In a few months, they’d once more meet each other.

Nupian’s Domain stirred. Her Corruption Power, mixed with it an unknown type of energy, flowed out of her fingertips and into Iris’s doll. It plaited around her figure as well as Nupian’s fingers, hands, arms, and torso until their Threads of Love interlaced as one.

…

Iris opened her eyes. She floated in the middle of a great ocean. Its churning waves, made of cloud-like material, swirled and twirled into countless whirlpools, spreading their fractal reaches to infinity and unto themselves. Their recursion grew and shrank, divided and merged, rose and fell.

They resembled nothing, yet also represented everything. This space, a place where concepts distilled into bubbles and worlds into radiances, reminded her of . . . home.

She belonged here; this was where . . . everything began.

But where was she? She couldn’t quite remember how she got here.

What was she doing before this?

Her thoughts rose from her body and morphed into a monumental flower, whose petals spanned the size of a continent. Yet she easily plucked it from its stem and held it in her palm.

She looked at its middle, where a mountain of nectar rippled under her gaze. Her thoughts, stripped from her control, flickered with countless information. Their detail eluded all comprehension, exposing the infinite secrets of the universe.

As she gazed upon it, a complete understanding of the world entered her head, and it dissipated as quickly as it manifested.

She wanted to mull over that piece of nectar, but her body threw away the flower and turned to an insignificant firefly. She descended from her impossibly high altitude and knelt before that drifting firefly.

Unable to control her body, Iris could only observe her surroundings. Nothing made sense. Everything was alien, yet it all felt familiar.

And the most familiar of all . . . was that firefly.

It aimlessly drifted forwards, its glow dimming. This mustn’t go on, or it would extinguish itself, and the soul would cease to exist.

Iris held her hands underneath the firefly, supporting it. Rays of comforting light glowed from her palms, fueling the dying soul with a hint of Divinity, of mystical knowledge.

That soul gradually enlarged, its surface becoming transparent.

Iris peered inside it. Her sight landed on a sleeping beauty, whose stoic expression hinted at her calm, resolute, yet rebellious personality.

That firefly was her soul, that sleeping beauty her body!

The soul shivered. Its transparent shell became murky. Iris’s reflection manifested, and she . . . saw her unfamiliar appearance, herself no longer.

The goddess in the reflection smiled. An ocean of Divinity ruptured from Iris and flooded the infinite conceptual space. It overflowed her view, permeated her slumbering soul, and filled her thoughts with emptiness.

Although the world felt suffocating, Iris only felt liberated. The invisible ceiling above her finally shattered, and her soul ascended beyond her limit.

…

Seven Virtues rested her hands on a large sphere of light, in which Iris lay asleep. They floated in the middle of Cathedral of Deliverance. Their radiance illuminated the stained glasses, metallic supporting beams, reflective lanterns and chandeliers, as well as waving curtains and flags.

The once disorganised surroundings had regained their order. Arianne, the Saintess of Pure Mind, fixed the damaged parts and restored the cathedral to its former glory. She now knelt in front of The Goddess’s statue, facing her goddess and the dreaming Iris.

She couldn’t know what her goddess was planning, but she trusted in her goddess to bestow upon Iris what she deserved. She only needed to faithfully follow her heart, serving her goddess with all she had.

Seven Virtues pressed her right ear on the sphere. The sound of soft heartbeats reverberated. She, smiling, stroked its smooth surface before separating from it.

“Are you not curious, Arianne?” Seven Virtues said. “A birth of a Blessed One, this might be the first and last time you’ll witness it.”

“How could I disturb your grand scheme, my goddess?” Arianne raised her head to look at the sphere. Iris was hugging her knees while floating at the centre. “When she’s reborn, I could always ask her. Our time together will offer me plenty of opportunities.”

“Am I partial to her?” Seven Virtues covered her mouth, though Arianne could feel her sophisticated smile. “You’ve been by my side for millennia, yet the one I choose to be my eternal partner is a stranger of another world.”

Arianne bent down her head. Her dark brown hair fell down, covering her face. She clenched her stomach, holding her breath. “I dare not, my goddess. I . . . please forgive my feeble heart.”

“No one is free from their desires, Arianne. I shan’t blame you for your feelings, for your doubt isn’t unfound.”

“Then . . . could you enlighten me on my mistake?”

“Iris . . . she’s truly special. An otherworldly mortal, with a soul divine and a vessel incomparable, she . . . is the key to the gate of liberation.”

Seven Virtues frowned. She pressed her hands on the sphere. Her seven pairs of wings spread. Divine light shone from her back, forming seven layers of halos above her head. Her Divinity rose all around, projecting an illusion of her Heavenly Kingdom into the cathedral.

The sphere aggressively shook. Its surface split into a crack, and multiple followed suit. Azure mists flowed out of them, their colours shifting to purple to black and to azure. A rosy scent also seeped out and permeated the cathedral.

Iris, hovering motionlessly in the sphere, twitched. Her eyebrows furrowed and relaxed, and her mouth, formerly aloof, curved into a satisfied smile.

Her purified appearance, resembling her human self, melted back to her Slime Girl appearance. Her smooth, bouncy, wet membrane wrapped around her body, highlighting her curve, smoothening her imperfection.

Her Shadow Heart Core brightened, and Shadow Plane’s projection resurfaced. A tide of Corruption Power shattered the sphere and overflowed the cathedral.

If not for divine protection, the Corruption Power tide would have flooded the entire Donhalgen.

All the Corruption Power flowed inside Iris, darkening her slime. Her chest rose and fell, quivering.

She opened her eyes. Her Corruption Power exploded out of her, imploded into her, and repeated its cycles countlessly. Its quality evolved beyond limit before condensing into a purer, grander presence that pervaded the cathedral, able to, even if for an instant, contest against the divine aura.

Iris stretched her arms outwards. The sphere shattered under her lightest touch. A pair of slimy, luminous wings grew out of her back. She looked down at the Saintess of Pure Mind and Seven Virtues, her gentle golden eyes expressing her delicacy.

Seven Virtues raised her head and stared into Iris’s bright, unwavering eyes. Within that pair of most beautiful jewels existed no anomaly, no corruption, no possession.

She . . . overcame her Fate?

“You’re indeed the most special,” Seven Virtues said. “Holy despite the darkness, Pure despite Corruption. Are you . . . really a mortal?”

“I . . . don’t know.” Iris smiled. She crossed her arms on her chest. A handkerchief manifested in front of her. “I only know that . . . I mustn’t fail here.”

She injected her Corruption Power into the handkerchief. An insignia of a feather pen writing a poem about forbidden love manifested atop the heart-shaped symbol on it.

Innumerable red strings revealed themselves. They connected countless people across Donhalgen, pairing each with their potential soulmate, connecting their emotions and hearts with a resonating affection.

Iris curled her fingers. Her motion drew and vibrated the strings, sending a ripple of sensation throughout the cathedral. The atmosphere pinkened, showering the surroundings with a mental paradise, where their everlasting love came true.

Saintess of Pure Mind activated her Domains. Her heart fluttered when thoughts of her goddess’s embracing soaked her mind with warmth for which she didn’t know she yearned. Though her power prevented her infatuation from overflowing, it couldn’t stop the influence entirely.

Arianne bit her lips. She couldn’t understand. How could her goddess fail? How could Iris affect her?

She carefully raised her head, making sure not to lay her eyes upon her most beloved, most graceful goddess.

At the centre of the cathedral, Iris waved her wings. Her slimy feathers concealed her full appearance, but they failed to obscure her flushes. The overwhelming emotions coursed through her, affecting every part of her soul.

Purple tendrils rose from her membrane, playing with her sensitive slime, which threatened to melt.

Seven Virtues observed her Chosen One. Such a combination of Pure and Corrupted Powers intrigued her. She waved her right hand. Seven masks manifested around her, but she stayed her might.

This display of impossibility . . . she had a feeling that it would be beneficial to her goal. She shouldn’t disturb the process.

Her plan . . . had already failed, thawed by an invisible hand she couldn’t see, overcame by impossible chances.

As Iris opened her mouth and exhaled steamy air, her body turned completely red. Her tendrils merged back into her skin, and her membrane split apart. Her slime gushed out of herself, and she dissolved into a rain of sticky liquid, which dirtied the cathedral with a scent of love.

Arianne blew a puff of cold air. A series of barriers emerged throughout the cathedral, stopping the rain from tainting the statue of the goddess and her holy possessions.

Seven Virtues let the slime rain on her. The droplets dripped upon her clothes, dampened her cloak, and dissipated as if they never existed in the first place.

Along with them, Iris also vanished.

Silence filled Cathedral of Deliverance. Arianne swiftly fixed the damage and chaos, but she dared not comment on the situation.

What happened today was too absurd, even if it was Iris’s doing.

Seven Virtues glanced at her saintess and chuckled.

“There’s no point in chasing after her,” she said. “I’ve got more than enough.”

“But . . .”

“I’ve come to realise that I’m not the only one aiming for her.” Seven Virtues looked at the cathedral’s gate, peering into the emptiness outside. “If my goal is true freedom, what then is yours, Fate?”

Quietude was the answer, but Seven Virtues didn’t expect anything in the first place. Her friend had always been mysterious and silent, but her secretive style was too eye-catching.

The activation of Shadow Heart Core, the critical success of that handkerchief, the unexpected destruction of the isolation field, the disappearance of Iris, and the invisible seal preventing time reversal, what was Fate thinking?

“I’ll be waiting to see what you have in store for her,” Seven Virtues said. She took a step forwards and disappeared, leaving Arianne confused and alarmed.