In the back alleys, somewhere near the border of East and West London, stood two titans of mental fortitude. The Awakened Siegella floated there in her hauntingly ethereal form. Her twisted head and sorrowful tears briefly sent shivers down John’s spine, but only for a second. John’s mental state was not broken nor shaken by her sudden appearance. The only thing that gave them pause was the emotions that Siegella’s mental waves gave off. They were full of sadness and mourning for something long gone.

Even still, Platinum John continued to resonate, their brain vibrating with a well-trained rhythm. Like consistent clockwork, mental energy enveloped them, and waited until the right moment to be unleashed. It coursed down their arms and even to the tips of their toes, gently thrumming with anticipation.

“I wasn’t aware someone like you had such potential,” John commented.

“No one did,” Seigella replied. Her voice was shrill and wispy, almost as if she was talking while breathing in. “But once Vincent and Fang left, Archard finally saw me. He saw me. He saw me.”

With a burst of movement, the ghostly Siegella rushed forward. Her body didn't run but rather drifted over toward John with immense speed. But John was ready. They threw their vibrating fist at the approaching specter, ready to unleash some mental waves when it made contact.

Before it could even hit her, Seigella instantly changed direction. It was unnatural how her momentum came to a sudden halt and shifted. She sank into the ground and was gone; John’s attack never found purchase.

Just then, her presence appeared behind them. They threw a spinning kick in response but watched as it passed right through her. Their foot collided with the narrow alley wall, cracking it upon impact. In that vulnerable state, Siegella approached again and threw a punch. This attack, unlike John’s, connected.

The platinum-haired fighter stumbled back a few feet, but managed to stay standing. While they weren't able to block the attack on time, their mental waves allowed their muscles to tighten beyond normal human tension, making it so that they didn't suffer too much damage. As they came to a stop, they looked around and saw that Seigella had once again vanished.

How did she hit me? they thought. My attack went right through her and yet she was able to physically touch me. What am I missing?

A fist emerged from one of the windows beside them, just as they sensed Siegella’s mental presence. John was barely able to dodge the attack, and the fist collided with a trash bin that was resting near the window. Within a moment, the arm was gone.

They can even move into solid matter. John’s eyes then moved to the dented bin. Unless…

John sprinted down the alley, trying to make their way to a certain location. There was an idea that was starting to brew inside of their head. As they moved with haste, they sensed Siegella moving near them, although her location was hard to exactly pinpoint.

Suddenly, her ghostly form appeared in front of them, emerging from the ground.

“You will not get away,” she said, throwing a punch that barely missed John, colliding with a wall. “I won’t allow Archard to ever be disappointed in me again. I will have someone finally recognize me.” More tears fell from her upside down head.

John allowed their mind to resonate more, focusing all their energy toward using prediction. Every strange wave that spewed out of Siegella was growing more frantic and uncontrolled. Even though she was now an Awakened Resonator, there was no experience there. There was no control. It was clear that she had only recently awakened. And by recent, that means that it couldn’t have been more than a day. So what caused it?

“You seem to care about Archard a lot. Why is that?” John asked Siegella.

Her mental waves began to widely resonate more. “He’s the only one that sees me. He’s the only one that hears me. He’s the only one that knows me.” Her tears now flowed like a waterfall and her eyes glazed over. It was like she was looking past John and into something far away. “Father, I’m finally going to be something. I now know why I alone survived the shipwreck—it was so I can serve Archard.”

John clenched their teeth in anger when they heard that. It was like looking into a dark past. For a brief second, where Siegella was, they saw their younger sibling. They saw one person they had failed. They now understood what was happening.

“He broke you, didn’t he?” John asked. “He broke your mind and forced you to give into those words.”

“I am not broke, I am finally complete!” she yelled in mournful agony.

With a flash of ghostly white, she charged him. No part of her hid her intentions. Even to the most inexperienced user of mental waves, her waves were easy to read. Of course they were. After all, a broken mind can never protect itself. It exists only to inflict pain—both on itself and on others.

Just as her ethereal fist got near John, they reached and grabbed it with one hand.

“How…” was all Siegella could say.

John looked at her with both pitiful and angry eyes, and said, “When you attack, that limb becomes corporeal.” They then slammed her arm to the ground and redirected all of their mental waves to that arm. “Platinum Shock.”

The sheer force of the saved-up mental energy exploded out of them, seeping into the ground and causing it to violently shake. Cracks formed all around, spiderwebbing up into the nearby building. Windows shattered, doors bent, and the ground shifted. After a few seconds, the entire structural integrity of the ground beneath them gave out, and both John and Siegella plummeted down into a dark chasm.

***

In the spare bedroom at Hal’s home, a single person lay unconscious. Fang had been sleeping for over a day, their body was exhausted. However, that was nothing compared to the state that their mind was in. While they seemed to be unconscious and unmoving to anyone else, their brain had never stopped firing. In fact, for the last 24 hours, they could do nothing but experience the torment of their memories.

STATIC

“Riki—no, father—it hurts.”

“As does all love, my child.”

“I don’t want this anymore. I want the pain to end.”

“It never will. You must learn to handle it.”

“Father, please…”

STATIC

“Fang, why are you not as strong as John yet? Have I taught you nothing?!”

“Dad, I’m sorry. I’m sorry. I’m sorry.”

“Sorry doesn’t make you strong! Focus your mind and resonate with me.”

“But it hurts.”

“And so will the outside world if you don’t get this! I need you to be stronger in order to achieve our dream. You do remember what that is, don’t you?”

“Utopia.”

STATIC

“There’s something inside my head, dad. It hurts”

“Nonsense. Stop imagining things. Such thoughts only serve to distract you. So come one, show me projection.”

“But, dad, if I do, I won’t be able to keep it in.”

“FANG! That’s enough!”

STATIC

“John, where are we going?”

“Away from here. To a place where it doesn’t hurt anymore.”

“But there’s always pain, even when he’s not around. John, there’s a monster inside of me.”

“What?”

“John, it wants out.”

“Fang, it's going to be alright. It’s not real. It’s just your brain’s response to—”

“It wants the pain to end.”

“And it will. We just have to leave with Yoshin.”

“John…it’s trying to get out. It’s going to get out again.

“Fang, what’s going on?

“I just want this pain to end.”

***

The only light in the subterranean sewers was the faint glow that emanated off of Siegella and the light from the broken ground above. John stood ankle-deep in wastewater, while the visage of Siegella remained hovering a foot or so off of the ground. They were both staring at each other, eyes locked and minds resonating. John took a step forward, their eyes covered in shadow.

“This is the end,” they said.

“Yes,” Siegella hissed, “for you!”

She raised her hand up and an impossibly bright light emitted from it, causing John to avert their gaze. But it was already too late. The light had already caused their vision to blur and go white. It was going to be a while before sight would return to them.

A searing pain suddenly appeared on their right shoulder. Then another pain emerged on their back. And then from their face. And then from their gut. They were being harried by a fast-moving Siegella, whose presence seemed to be dashing all over the place. Although they couldn’t see her, they could tell that she was moving in and out of the sewer walls.

Not only that, but John could feel pulses of mental energy forced into them, threatening to rattle their mind. Fortunately, not only were they particularly good at mental protection, but Siegella’s waves were unfocused. In fact, throughout the entire fight, her mental state was plainly deteriorating as time continued to pass. Such is the fate of a forced awakening.

“How does it feel, you inferior pest?!” Siegella screeched. “You can’t see, you can’t keep up with me, and you can barely touch me!”

Like a drop of water in a still pool, John allowed their mental waves to resonate evenly and calmly. No matter how much physical damage they took, their zen-like state was unfazed. They allowed their mind to retrace itself through time, finding the origin of their strength. As it twisted through the vein-like maze of memories, it eventually landed on a single image: Fang.

“I can’t see you?” they commented. “I don't need sight to know where you are.”

All of their resonating waves slowly began to snake its way down to their right hand.

“I can’t keep up with you? Who’s to say I’m not letting you hit me.”

The building force of psyotic energy was reaching its limit. Their hand began to shake and even the air around them thrummed with potential power.

“I can’t touch you? And what makes you sure about that?”

A banshee-like laugh emerged from in front of them. “Because you are nothing compared to me!” Siegella cried out. “I was chosen by Archard! I was—”

John reached out and clasped their hand around Siegella’s throat. Without sight, they managed to snatch the ghostly women midair.

“How did you…” Siegella asked, struggling to breathe.

“Don’t talk,” John coldly answered. “It makes your head corporeal.”

“Wha—” But before she could utter another word, a shock of mental energy erupted from John’s hand and rampaged through her mind. Memories were torn, her own self-image was ruptured, and her own mentality was about to expire.

“Platinum End,” John said.

After a few seconds, they let go and heard Siegella’s unmoving body thud to the ground, now fully corporeal and real. Sight began to make itself known to them, and as it did, the first thing they saw was that fresh corpse on the ground, now soaked in sewer water.

With tears in their eyes, John said, “I’m sorry, broken one, that it turned out this way. But this way you suffer less.”

Their eyes then glanced up at the open chasm above them and their mind only thought of one, despicable man.

“Archard…”