INTERLUDE: MY HERO
“Sorry love, but I still can’t see you as a weapon.” He declared nonchalantly as he stood against us.
I cannot understand. Why is he so adamant about denying me of my identity?
Is it because he loves me? Is someone like him even capable of that? He cannot even connect with another person; what makes him think that he loves me? Beneath that madness of his lives a child that’s crying and begging to be understood by others, because he cannot do so himself. So he cannot possibly love me.
And even if he does, then must he love me, a weapon, as a human? Could he not love me as a sword-master would adore his sword?
It’s absolutely incomprehensible.
It’d be different if I was a cat. Then I could purr for him whenever he petted me.
It’d be different if I was a rose. Then I’d bloom for him everyday and fill his life with fragrance.
It’d be different if I was a human. If I was a human, I’d be one who was way better than who I currently am, and who he currently is. Then I could have turned him into a human.
However, it is not different.
I’m but a weapon; an extinction. A tool of spreading, chaos, destruction and death. And he is the flower of Hell who has bloomed before the gates of end. He is the Lord of Darkness that will once again take us towards the light.
Solitude must be his only love, and his only ally.
And yet he claims to love me as he denies my very reason for existence and treats me like a human, a comrade, a friend. Why must he humiliate me so?
Our relationship is nothing more than a master and his weapon; a blacksmith and his tool.
However, it seems that being subjected to his poisonous words over these 3 millennia has affected me; my wings are rushing to stand in between him and his end.
Of course, this is a meticulously planned move, one that I’d thought up of ages ago, but there is still a certain part of me that is desperate to eliminate that 1% possibility of him dying.
What could be the reason for that?
Have I grown fond of him? Or have I grown fond of the idea of being something more than a mere weapon?
Or maybe I adore him for treating me, an Extinction, as his raison d’etre?
I suppose this is not the time to be thinking about that.
As I stood before him, I did not feel the blade impale me, but I did feel the end of my life. Is this what it’s like to be granted an eternal death by the Ruler of Death?
On the other hand, his face was contorted into shock and desperation. Fufu, looks like even someone of his calibre couldn’t predict my actions.
I did not feel any pain; only cold silence as my very existence was being turned into oblivion. However, a slight warmth enveloped me as he took me in his arms.
With tears that dripped on my face, he screamed.
“What the fuck was that for, Jean?!”
Seems like he is hell bent on insulting me right till my final moments. Though this time, I cannot fault him for that.
Ah, my cute, little, admirer.
My end is neigh, so I must leave you. I hope that you live a life that does not shame my end. Move on from me, and be what you’re destined to be. However-
“Fufu, why do you look so pitiful when you are holding such a beautiful woman in your arms?”
Never forget me.
The chapter that you like, yet I hate.
I’m fucking dumb.