Author's Note: Hi everyone! Welcome to the 49th chapter of End of an Era! I hope you've all been anticipating this monumental chapter. I wish I could've released this sooner, but work is (of course) been keeping me real busy again lately, not to mention I wanted to try and to capture the details I had in my head out as best as I could. On a quick side note, I'm sure many players of Tales of Destiny will recognize the title of this chapter; I think it best describes the events in this chapter.

Also, I know I normally do skits at the end of each chapter, but I'm afraid I couldn't come up with an appropriate one this time around given the revelations that we learn in this chapter. I'm afraid the skits won't be appearing for a while, but they will eventually return when I feel the time is right.

Anyway, I don't want to talk your ear off, I know what you've all come here to read. Without further ado, let's get back to the story!

Chapter 49: Irony of Fate

He always had a temper; looking back now, it was probably because he knew deep down he did not belong with the Shepherds. He was merely an orphan their leader found in the remains of a battlefield, some random kid who was at the wrong place at the wrong time. It frustrated Melrose to no end growing up that despite how much he tried to make these people his family, he could never see them as such. He could not fault the ones who raised him, they were kind and patient with him after all, and he acknowledged that they did their best to bring him up as one of their own. In time this frustration and anger would begin to disappear, but suddenly, nearly a month ago, it returned once again, but the reasoning behind this rage was completely different.

'Why?' he thought as he drove his scythe toward the editor from a foreign land. 'Why is it that every time I see you I wanna rip your heart out? Why do I want to wring your neck every time you open your mouth? Why do I feel my eyes burn when you stare at me? Why does my chest ache with every instance you wield your staff? Why? Tell me why!'

He expected some sort of answer with this final blow, this single action mimicked by the many copies he created of himself and the Head Scholar. Even if this answer was simply silence, he did not care; for the former Squire, it would at least bring a certain calmness to his life once more. However, much to his dismay, this was not the answer he was looking for.

His scythe and that of his copies had suddenly come to a halt, each of their attacks intercepted by a staff that caught themselves between their weapon's blade and shaft. To his complete surprise, multiple copies of the foreign editor were now found throughout the battlefield, finding one copy for each of his own. It was then that he recalled the trick she used during their battle in Elysia, how she created clones of herself to deal a series of her mystic arte one after the other.

"What kind of sorcery is this?!" Anastasia exclaimed upon seeing Leia's multiple replicants.

"Here comes Leia!" each of the copies sprang forward in unison now, each one targeting a clone of the former Squire. "This is my ultimate technique! Take this!"

Synchronized, each of the editor's selves swung their staff downward, sweeping the former Squire and his copies off of their feet before knocked into the air from the other side of the polearm. Unable to act, Melrose found his opponent multiplying once again as they leapt into the air, each of them striking and jabbing him and his replicas with their staffs, each of them disappearing upon striking. Gradually, one by one, each of his clones could no longer sustain themselves, his opponent's copies also disappearing in the same manner. Before long, he his other selves had completely disappeared, along with each of his foes with the exception of one that now hovered above him, her staff lunging downward into his chest as they both plummeted toward the floor, crying the name of her mystic arte as they fell.

"Azure Apocalypse!"

A flash of light erupted before his vision as a final blunt impact struck his spine and chest, causing an eruption of red to escape through his mouth. With this single cough, he felt his body become somewhat lighter, Symonne's body now reappearing beside his, the two of them having been separated from the pain and shock from the mystic arte.

Once more he felt his body ache, his eyes burn as he saw the editor staring back at him. Even though there was no malice, no sign of ill will, the very look she gave him infuriated him further. The longer he stared into those eyes however, he saw what looked like concern, perhaps even regret, and with that, visions of a woman, a person he had long forgotten, began to conjure before his eyes once more.

"My, that was a good one," he heard 'her' compliment as a gentle hand ran through his hair. "In a few more years, you'll be just as strong as your father, I know it."

"You're worried about her, I know," he remembered an instance where 'she' tried to hide her concerns with a smile. "Don't worry, no matter what happens, your sister will always be with you."

"What are you doing, how do you expect to live up to our family's legacy if you're not going to put everything into your next strike!" 'her' next words that he recalled were more cruel, filled with more sorrow. "You'll never avenge your father like that! Stop crying! Get up and do it again!"

"Your sister is never going to get better, don't you understand?!" his next memory was just as, if not more cruel. "Why do you think she's always sick; why do you think I made you the heir to our family's legacy?! She is not meant to last in this world much longer!"

Who, who was this person that comforted him at first, but berated him as time went by? Why is it that every time he remembers her voice, he is filled with joy, but also with anger and sadness?

Frustration fueled his anger once more at this point, his hands taking hold of his daggers once more as he attempted to charge at the editor with his remaining strength. However, he found that he did not have the strength to do so, his desire instead taken by another.

"Have at you, Villain!" the Head Scholar screamed at Leia. "Rampaging giant!"

The armatized dark-haired woman and seraph rushed toward the editor now, charging forth with a flurry of punches nearly impossible for the eye to see. The strikes would suddenly stop before they could meet their target, her arms and the stone gauntlets that hovered above them quickly pulled back by several dark tendrils that emerged from the ground. It was none other than the young teacher who stopped her, casting her Negative Gate arte to halt her advance. Believing it to be little more than an annoyance, Anastasia quickly found herself able to break free with little effort, only to realize soon after the incantation was supposed to be a distraction as the former butler cast his own.

"O admonishing melody, arise in the name of the Necromancer! Mystic Cage!"

Streams of white mana quickly encapsulated the Head Scholar now, the walls of the arte closing further as it mimicked the actions of the elder man's fist. Upon closing his hand completely, the streams quickly entombed Anastasia for but an instant, but it was a long enough moment to completely incinerate her body, causing her to cry out in pain, forcefully separating her body and her seraph's apart into their respective forms.

Looking to their remaining ally, Melrose saw the Lord of Monsters oddly simply standing in place, as if he were accepting their defeat. Even though it looked as if he was ready to surrender, the young agent was now rushing toward him, the contents of her watch now adorning her body as she lunged her spear forward, crying out the name of her father's mystic arte as she struck.

"Form Destroyer!"

Unlike those that had already fallen, the red-eyed spirit simply stopped the attack with a single hand, grasping the pole of her weapon with ease just below its blade. His monotone expression as he stopped her infuriated the last descendent of Kresnik, forcing her more of her strength into her lance, pushing him backward ever so slightly. Instead of simply allowing the weapon to pierce through, the Great Spirit simply flipped back a great distance, landing on the steps he was to guard, standing as confident as ever as the rest of their foes regrouped at the stairs' base.

"I think it's safe to say that's enough for now," Ratatosk simply said as he looked down upon their enemies. "You've all made your point. Victory belongs to you."

"Seriously, just like that?" Alvin questioned, taken aback by his words.

"This guy's obviously up to something," Elle spat, skeptical of his surrender.

"I have no intention of fighting you further, Elle Mel Marta," he addressed the young agent, his gaze turning to the skies above the staircase. "The end draws near."

"Like hell this is the end!" the former Squire scoffed, struggling to return to his feet again.

"I will not yet admit defeat…," the Head Scholar rose as well. "You face descendants of two who ended the Age of Chaos; we will not allow you to create another era of disarray. Even if my ancestor has strayed from her path, even if my mother attempted to bring about the end of the world in her grief, I will ensure that the legacy of Alisha Diphda-Strelka will not be tarnished by your hands!"

"And the Great Shepherd Rose's blood flows in my veins," Melrose spat. "As her descendent, we won't let you-"

"Descendent, are you serious right now?" a rather aloof voice interrupted.

Turning to the source, both parties now found themselves face-to-face with the mentioned heroes, along with their old comrades and an individual both groups had never seen before, or rather, only one member of both groups had ever seen before. Seeing his alleged ancestor now standing before them, the former Squire found himself puzzled by her indifference to his statement. At first he believed she was merely holding a grudge over keeping her and her friends captive recently, but that look in her eye seemed to say otherwise. In the few interactions he shared with her, he could already tell she was not the type to truly hold grudges, but she was certainly the type to right wrongs, no matter how little they could be.

"I get it, the red hair, blue eyes, the preference for knives, and you even the whole you got found in an old battlefield thing going on," the rogue seraph continued as she approached the former Squire. "Unfortunately that's not enough proof to make you a descendent of mine."

"Are you disowning me just because you sympathize with these foreigners?" the red-haired young man questioned. "Or is it because you're still clinging onto the ideals of the Shepherds?"

"Honestly, I'd rather have nothing to do with either one," the red-haired seraph whole-heartedly replied. "The only reason I'm caught up in this mess is because Alisha wanted to help these folks, especially considering its her descendants involved in this whole conflict. Besides, I hate to be the one to break it to you, but I never even had any children in my previous lifetime."

"Lies!" he protested. "What of your engagement to Prince Konan? Even the old records state that before you were a Shepherd, you were-"

"I thought at one point maybe I was with child after taking his life, but nothing ever came of it; I never had a baby even back then."

"Melrose, Anastasia, please stand down," it was the knight seraph turns to speak. "This conflict between our families has gone on long enough."

"I can't simply stand down," Anastasia stood firm. "The Shepherds took everything from me back then. My family is gone; as the last descendent of Diphda, I must repent for our lineage's sins. As the last surviving child of Olga Diphda and her husband, Alexandre Diphda, and the heir of the Scholars of the Crowe by proxy, I will-"

"Anastasia, you are not the last child of your parents!" her family's seraph suddenly spoke. "Roland is still alive! He is with us as we speak."

Roland, the sound of that name filled every nerve in the former Squire's body with electricity. It was a familiar name, its syllables filling his self with a sort of nostalgia. Yet it also filled him with a sense of dread, pulling up even more memories that had long been hidden, sights and sounds which suddenly flooded everything he was witnessing this moment. He remembered 'her' more clearly, remembering the person she used to be; he remembered her patience, her smiles, her warmth, but then he remembered her anger, her cruelty, and the madness that consumed her with every passing day.

He then recalled 'him'; he was a bit arrogant and standoffish, but just as warm as 'she'. 'He' was often smiling, laughing in many instances, never really taking things seriously. 'His' carefree demeanor seemed to annoy 'her' more than anything, but regardless of annoyed she became, there was still a certain respect, a certain bond the two shared, a certain love to be exact.

But most of all, he remembered another person more clearly, the one individual who had never changed despite how much time passed. This person was always smiling, always trying to do their best to make sure he and the rest of their family were happy. However, she was also always very ill; often times she was bedridden, sick with a fever. She was always so frail, often needing assistance with the smallest of tasks. Yet he was always there to help her, despite being a few years younger; no, it wasn't just him that helped, there was another person, someone much older, but he looked to be no older than a young man. The three of them were always together, especially as 'she' became further driven by madness.

Yes, it was becoming all the more clear now. 'She' was his mother, Olga Diphda; her hair was dark, black like the night sky, but her heart was as warm as the summer sun. Yet like the seasons, that warmth would slowly chill, becoming as cold as the winter's night. It was when her husband, his father died; that was when she started to neglect her children, that was when she started to become cruel.

His father, that was 'him', Alexandre Diphda. His red hair was like wildfire, emulating his personality quite fondly. While his mother was much more dutiful and reserved, he was more carefree and rather roguish, but always attentive when it came to his family. And yet fate was cruel to him; with time, he began to fall from grace, the power of malevolence slowly corrupting him with every job he tried to complete for his family until one day he disappeared, only to turn up again when his mother found his corpse and those that killed him.

And then there was the last individual, his sister, his older sister to be exact. She was always there to comfort him, always there to give him a smile. Though she was often unable to play with him and catch up with every move, she always tried to act as if she could do the same. She was just like their mother in many ways, in both appearance and in spirit, but unlike their mother, she was never cruel, she was never angry. His sister, of all the memories he could recall, these were the most clear, these were the ones he recently lived through, these were the ones…

"…Sister Ana…?"

"…Roland…?"

…these were the ones that were still alive.

Yet this moment of realization could not fully pass as an explosion suddenly burst from above now, originating from the platform the former Squire and his sibling were to guard. Though it was faint, the elements of fire, water, wind, and earth continued to flash, as were the sounds of steel striking against one another and the cries of battle. Yet amidst this backdrop, there was another orchestra in play, as swirls of darkness began to pool from the platform and into the sky above. Though it was faint, they could feel the icy touch that came with the dark energy, causing a slight irritation in each of the seraphim.

"Malevolence, but what's causing it?!" Lailah exclaimed as the dark clouds slowly grew.

Upon seeing the black energy, a familiar pain began to spread throughout the former Squire; the beats of his heart became heavy, the air in his lungs burning like oil, and his muscles all but paralyzed. It was now that the scenery around him began to blur, the final memory of his past life, of his mother, playing once more, more coherent than ever.

"Come, Child…," he remembered the final words he heard before his old life came to an end. "Leave your weaker sibling, Roland. Seize this moment and take my hand. Embrace the will of the old world and fulfill the wish of the First Storyteller. Together, let us reawaken her!"

"…it's the same as that day…," Meizen's words returned him to the present. "It's just like Glaivend Basin fifteen years ago, only this time-"

"The final act is about to begin," the illusionist interrupted, her voice filled with anticipation and glee. "The stage has been set; let us now make out way to the auditorium and witness the finale of this tale."

"Symonne?" Melrose found himself taken aback by his seraph's words.

"What's your game?" Meizen sneered, readying his fighting stance at the illusionist now. "First you wanted to delay them from going up top, and now-? Ow!" a familiar blunt pain now swelled in his head

"You read too much into things," Edna groaned as she tapped her parasol on her shoulder now.

"Well then, what are you waiting for, the path is clear," the Lord of Monsters now spoke. "It's like Symonne said; we've done our part, the rest is up to fate, it's up to the former Maxwell and the Avatar of Chronos."

"I don't exactly know what's going on, but I guess that means were free to just go on ahead," Sorey finally got a word in.

"Wait a sec, just who are you supposed to be?" Alvin questioned.

"Me? I'm-"

"Introductions are gonna have to wait, Milla and the others need us!" Teepo quickly interrupted.

"Agreed, we mustn't dawdle," Rowen nodded.

"Don't you want to come along as well?" the illusionist now questioned the two siblings. "Isn't it your goal to prevent the atrocities your mother attempted to commit all those years ago?"

"Just what exactly is your game, Symonne?" her vessel questioned.

"My 'game' as you call it is simple; to bring about the end of this cycle of death and rebirth. I have played my part in this cycle, so for now, I leave the rest to the main players of the stage. You too should bear witness to this spectacle. Besides, should the final act end in disappointment, we will need a new set of main characters for the sequel; however, I doubt such a tale would be as interesting as this if you and your sister were to take the main stage."

"Look, whatever you guys decide, that's all on you," Leia interrupted. "Either way, we're going up there! Come on everyone, let's go!"

Clang! Clang! Clang! The two metals continued to sing with every railed cut. The former Maxwell's sneer only deepened as the face of her nemesis remained monotone. More fire burned through her arms, withdrawing her blade for but a moment before swinging it forward with all her might with both hands at the hilt of her sword. A massive swoosh of air simply followed with her attack, the Demon King simply jumping back, swinging her empty hand outward consecutively three times to dispel a beam of light from her palm each time. Instead of attempting to evade each of the streams of mana, Milla instead charged at the blasts head on, the Eleth Sword cutting through each of the illuminations and diverting their paths with each swing. After the third cut, she soon found herself within range of her foe, cutting forward now without a break. Her sword would fail to cut flesh however, stopped by the timeless blade in Amilla's hands, positioning it an angle with the hilt a few inches hovering before her forehead, bringing the two to a stalemate once more.

"It seems you've gotten stronger since last time," the Demon King calmly remarked.

"Enough talk!"

The former Lord of Spirits would not hear another word, the element of wind now pulsing behind her, pushing toward her sword in order to increase the leverage of her cut. In the next second, Milla had quickly broke through Amilla's guard, forcing her to jump backward to avoid the cut entirely. Instead of following through with a charge, the former Maxwell pushed her palm forward as yellow sigils appeared just before her enemy's feet, pillars of sharpened earth quickly rising thereafter.

"Grave!"

"Aqua Protection!"

Spheres of water appeared before the Avatar of Chronos now, halting the advancement of each of the sharpened spikes before they could pierce her skin. Not willing to remain on the defense any longer, Amilla readied her next incantation immediately after, flinging her left palm outward as bursts of flame erupted forward.

"Fireball!"

"Wind Lance!"

As instantly as the fire arte was created was it dissipated into nothingness from Milla's wind arte. With their respective attacks cancelled once more, the former Maxwell now leapt into the air, the four elements gathering behind her as she dove forward with her sword once more.

"Flames sweep away!" she chanted as a blaze of fire followed her diving cut as she landed past her nemesis. "Water, dance and twirl!" a deluge of the life liquid now burst from below her foe's feet, launching her into the heavens. "Wind, be my blade!" a torrent of air now shot forth from her blade. "Earth, my spear!" a storm of rocks now flung toward her foe with the signal of her hand. "Elements, I call thee! Elemental Mastery!"

Another burst of mana shot from Milla's left hand now, each stream consisting of a different element that rained upon her nemesis, creating another series of explosions, one after the other, filling the entire area with smoke and debris. Despite the onslaught of mana, the former Lord of Spirits knew that this could not have simply been the end of her foe, predicting that she had still somehow survived her attack. Her instincts were soon proven right as her foe attacked immediately thereafter, countering with the exact same technique she had just used.

"Elemental powers, gather, become the beacon and shine! Elemental Mastery!"

Another barrage of mana soon found itself in the battlefield, only this time it was the former Maxwell who had experienced it. In spite of the massive attack, Milla continued to stand, albeit barely after succumbing to said arte. However, this attack would only invigorate her further, her legs once again pushing her toward her foe, swinging her sword swiftly to the side as she began the incantation of her next mystic arte.

"Into pieces!" she cried as her blade swung her blade forward. "Stampede Strike!"

"Hah!" the Demon King managed to somehow deflect the initial strike. "I'll show you! Divine Justice!"

A surge of mana burst from the Eternal Sword as its blade hammered downward, enveloping the entire area in smoke, even interrupting the coinciding battles between the two's comrades. Even with the debris barely settling, Amilla once again found her former Prime self as tenacious as ever, finding her blade lunging through the dissipating mists, the former Maxwell's charge coming to a sudden halt as the Demon King's weapon simply pointed itself forward, stopping just barely a hair's width away from Milla's belly. The former Lord of Spirits could only grit her teeth in defeat, despite the tip of the Eleth Sword also the same distance away from her foe's heart.

"How much longer are you going to keep at it?" Amilla calmly questioned. "Stronger or not, we both know you can't keep going like this."

"Even if I am reaching my limits, I have no choice but to attempt to break them, otherwise-"

"Don't be stupid," the Avatar of Chronos interrupted. "Keep going like this and that life growing inside of you will die; even if I don't give the killing blow, I'm sure even you know that the body can only succumb to so much stress before-"

"Worry about yourself instead of your opponent!" Milla hissed.

Despite her predicament, the former Maxwell jumped backward slightly before rushing forward once more. Anticipating this, her former Fractured self continued her lunge in the same path it previously traveled, her blade easily piercing through flesh and muscle. To her shock however, Milla had turned her body at the last second, diverting the lunge toward her left arm, just above her wrist instead. With the weapon now stuck in place, the former Lord of Spirits immediately countered, slashing inward with a diagonal cut. However, her nemesis also dodged at the last moment, her blade instead cleaving just below the left side of her hip instead. Simultaneously, both fighters immediately withdrew their swords from one another, the two once again gripping their weapons with both hands. Another symphony of ringing steel filled the air, neither one able to land a blow against the other.

Yet with every swing, it was clear that fatigue was slowly catching up with Milla. Each subsequent cut and lunge was becoming slower than the last, and at this rate, Amilla just needed to find the perfect opening, a strike she could easily counter. It was at this point she noticed her opponent was preparing for a rising diagonal cut from her left side. Telegraphing this, the Demon King immediately dodged said blow, finding her wide open. It was at this point Amilla attempted her final counter, a final strike that would end this battle once and for all, however…

"What the?!"

…however she did not foresee the full method of Milla's attack. The next strike was indeed a diagonal cut as she predicted, but the swing was only made with one hand on the sword; her left had actually taken hold of her weapon's scabbard, subsequently swinging it outward in an inverse manner, using it as a makeshift club as it crushed her ribs upon impact, the force that followed sending her reeling in the attack's direction, quickly sweeping her off of her feet and forcing her body to skid across the ground several feet, freeing the Eternal Sword from her grasp, knocking into the sky, embedding it the seal the stood just before the swirling light and darkness hovering above all of them. For a few seconds, Amilla found herself helpless as she reeled against the ground from the inertia of the attack, her body finally coming to a halt. Before she could rise however, she soon found the steel from another world now pointed at her throat, her opponent now standing over her and ready to deliver the finishing strike.

"You know it's pointless," the Demon King gloated with a scoff. "Kill me now and I'll just come back a few seconds later."

"It doesn't matter if you can revive yourself," the former Lord of Spirits retorted. "I'll kill you over and over again until you can no longer come back."

"You're certainly full of yourself. So full of it that you can't seem to fit anything else into that hard head of yours."

"You've said enough. It's time for you to die!"

Without a moment's hesitation, Milla lifted her sword once more. As expected, Amilla didn't even bat an eye as she prepared for the final blow, after all, why would she? She was certainly stubborn, definitely committed to her goals, and more than anything else, she was just like her.

…and yet it was because they were so much alike that she began to waver.

"…just leave the rest to me…," she remembered her words after their previous duel at the shrine where she was once worshipped. "Go. Go live the life I was never given. Go play house, go play Mommy and Daddy, play family, play as if this never happened."

"…why…?" doubt began to overtake her now of all times. "Why would you tell me that back then?"

"What?"

"You had the perfect opportunity to kill us back then. Not just in Nia Khera, but also in Ladylake, in the Tintagel Ruins, and in Lionel; if you had wanted to end this conflict, you could have done so at any time. Even during out battle just now, there were several opportunities you could have taken to kill me. You could have easily frozen time and delivered the killing blow; you could have easily stabbed me and my child despite being stabbed yourself; you could have lunged your sword through my heart when my back was turned when you quickly reincarnated yourself, so why? I understand that your goal is Nereid, so then why? Why have you spared my life time and time again?"

"So it seems you are beginning to see the truth," another voice now spoke amongst them.

Turning to the source, Milla found the Great Spirit of the Heart who was all but forgotten since the fight began. Just as when he first appeared, the fox-like spirit did not assume a fighting stance of any sort, simply remaining idle and somewhat relaxed as he stood, despite the ongoing battles between her comrades and the Forbidden Spirits. He approached her now, still showing no signs of malice or intention to fight. Seeing this, she lowered her guard slightly, yet keeping the grip on her sword firm. Oddly, even her former Fractured self did not take this opportunity to retaliate, instead simply lifting herself off the floor.

"My goal is indeed Nereid," Amilla admitted. "And yet, it is also my goal to bring this endless cycle to an end. For every era since his last sealing, the cycle of death and rebirth continued; but why do you think that is?"

It was strange talking to the woman who was supposed to be her nemesis like this. For the first time, it seemed the two were having a normal conversation, with animosity free from either's voice. Amilla's trademark sarcasm and wit were also nowhere to be found, even her monotone expression becoming somewhat relaxed, easing the former Maxwell further in the process.

"It seems you are now ready to accept the truth, Milla Mathis," Varius spoke, standing in between the two as his body began to emit a warm light. "With your heart now open, I can divulge to you the true events of eras past."

"Is this truly the best solution?" the Primordial Spirit of Time questioned Milla and Muzét's predecessor.

"You know that this is the only true recourse," Maxwell calmly replied. "Even after these past millennia, since the true separation of the Inferior and Celestial, the Heir of Vatenkeist will inevitably return. After all, look at the humans, they have long forgotten the dangers that their existence once faced. Nereid is a name long forgotten in their minds, little more than a myth lost in the annals of history. Even the heirs of our fellow Great Spirits do not know firsthand what they were capable of. Even his pet, Pluto has been torn asunder since that day, splitting into the Forbidden Spirits of Chameleon, Gremlin's Lair, and her current self; for that matter, this current incarnation of Pluto is practically having two souls within one existence."

"Origin, you cannot tell me you agree with this," the dark-skinned spirit questioned his old friend, trying to remain calm as he spoke.

"I cannot agree nor disagree, but I can understand Maxwell's decision," the child-like spirit replied. "Although it pains me to say this, but this is the will of existence itself. All things must eventually come to pass, and this universe is no exception. Much like how Nereid's universe was brought to its end, so must ours with time. But-"

"Can we not let the humans decide their fate at the very least?" the Primordial Spirit of Time interrupted. "After all, they are not entirely bound to the rules of nature such as us. It would be foolish for us to intervene given that the universe would literally fall apart if one of us would fall."

"You propose we let the humans decide?" Maxwell seemed to scoff at the idea. "I admit they certainly have a stronger drive and desire than any other living creature by far, but as history has shown time and time again, they continue to make the same mistakes. Every few centuries, nay, even as few as years, months or days, they are brought into conflict with one another. It would be foolish to think that we can allow them to decide the fate of the universe we had created since Nereid's last reawakening."

"I understand that it was indeed a small group of humans that sealed the Heir of Vatenkeist all those millennia ago, but can we truly take a gamble and hope a similar like-minded group can do the same?" Origin questioned. "Even then, their victory came at a great cost with the deaths of many Great Spirits and altering the laws of existence itself. We were fortunate that the Elves had decided to plant the World Tree in the remains of Inferia, after rediscovering it several millennia ago, but it appears that Celestia has in turn suffered that it may be impossible for it to recover unless another Mana Seed is germinated there."

"It is too late to save Celestia," the Lord of Spirits now spoke. "The people of that world have become too embroiled in their own conflicts with one another, relying on their dying world's precious resources to fuel the technology they created. It is only a matter of time before they wipe themselves out entirely; even if they manage to create an artificial world using their technology that continues to rapidly evolve, we can only assume it will take several more millennia to complete such a feat. By then, I predict a majority of their world's civilizations would have been ravaged by war."

"And yet you are the one proposing the very same genocide against the people of Inferia," the Primordial Spirit of Time pointed out. "Is it truly our right to pass such judgment against all living things of this world?"

"As our creator has been silent for eons, I'm afraid that responsibility has fallen upon our shoulders, my old friend," Origin replied. "After all, were we not created to maintain balance in this universe? It may not be a coincidence that the Gates of Paracelsus can only be accessed in Aselia; if this world was to be the second chance at salvation for the people of Derris-Kharlan, then mustn't we ensure that they remain on that course lest history repeat itself once more and allow the Heir of Vatenkeist to rise once more as their sins continue to grow. After all, I can only purify so much of the darkness when their souls return to the Land of Canaan; at the beginning of each new life cycle, I must allow more of the miasma to pass onto the reincarnations of the deceased, and with the number of births growing, it will only be a matter of time before each new soul will only consist of darkness."

"Even so, would our creator agree to such a plan?" the dark-skinned spirit questioned. "To destroy a majority of life simply to decrease the population; it's true it would revert technology to a prehistoric level and greatly decrease the density of life for centuries, if not millennia, but the fact remains-"

"Regardless of the facts, it would provide Origin more time to purify those souls and slow down the reincarnation process as less living creatures would be born due to the already lowered population numbers," Maxwell interrupted. "Should the time come, I too will assist in the reincarnation process."

"Even so, I still do not find this to be the right course," the Primordial Spirit of Time continued to stand. "The humans should have a say in our decision; we are not gods and thus should have no say in their fates."

"Regardless of whether we are gods or not, we cannot allow Nereid to return," the Lord of Spirits continued to argue.

"…I know that we cannot, but still, the Xillia Pact requires the power of thirteen of our own; though it requires their strength to seal the Heir of Vatenkeist, there's no guarantee all of them would survive; we know for a fact at the very least the current incarnations of Efreet, Undine, Sylph, and Gnome may not survive, and even then, we still risk-"

"It will be all right," a fourth voice interrupted the conversation. "As the guardian of this world, I can assure you that things will be okay. If I too will take part in the pact, then I know we can renew the seal and-"

"Are you certain of this, Rem?" Origin questioned the winged woman that now graced them with her presence. "Even if you are the guardian of this world, you are just as susceptible to-"

"It's fine," another, more ominous voice joined in, appearing beside the Great Spirit of Light. "I too will stand with her."

"Shadow?" the Primordial Spirit of Time questioned the Great Spirit of Darkness.

"As do the rest of us," more voices joined in as the forms of the other Great Spirits made themselves known.

"We understand the risks involved," Rem spoke on behalf of all of their brethren. "We understand that what we are about to commit is a horrendous crime, but is it also not 'His' teachings that state 'What will be, will be. Believe in what you see and proceed along the path you choose. Even if that means turning our back on 'Him'.'"

"Even if our Creator has taught us this, I still-"

"My friend, we all understand your concern, but this must be done for the greater good," Origin tried to assure his friend, though with some trepidation in his voice. "We all know that if Nereid should reawaken, the amount of death and destruction he will bring about will be even more catastrophic than what we will do."

"…yes, you are right…," the dark-skinned spirit regretfully agreed. "Let us hope however that this will be the last time we have to commit such an act. Very well, Maxwell, let us proceed with the Xillia Pact; with your Meteor Storm and my laser, we shall begin this world anew once more."

With the fading of the past, the former Maxwell found herself completely taken aback by what she had just witnessed. Her predecessor, the original Maxwell, was the original progenitor for the end of a previous era. At first she wanted to deny what she had witnessed, she could not accept what she saw as being true. Yet at the same time, she knew better than anyone else that the previous Lord of Spirits was more than capable of committing such an act. The wellbeing of the many must always outweigh the wellbeing of the few. No, it was more than that; Maxwell must always choose the option that offers greater probabilities of survival, not matter what the cost, even if it meant that some may die so that many others could live later on.

"Do you see it now, Milla Mathis?" Amilla broke the tension swirling within her prime counterpart's soul. "It was Maxwell who initiated the end of eras; instead of placing his faith in humanity to stop Nereid as they had once before, he chose the 'safer' option. He chose to destroy a majority of all life in this world, he chose to save but a few so that their descendants could live."

There was no denying the Demon King's words, there was certainly truth in them. And yet, there was also truth behind her predecessor's actions.

"It was wrong of the previous Maxwell to commit such an act, even I cannot deny that," the former Lord of Spirits conceded. "However, had he placed his faith in humanity and they had failed, then-"

"Yet it wasn't just this one instance," the Avatar of Chronos continued. "Time-and-time again, era-after-era, the same cycle continued. Instead of placing his faith in humanity, he chose to commit genocide in order to 'save' them, he 'pressed the reset button' every time he felt mankind's sins were becoming too great, he chose to eradicate civilization once they had reached a certain point. Even the other Great Spirits were disgusted by Maxwell's decision with each new era, but they reluctantly agreed each time because this was the only way they believed they could prevent Nereid's resurrection.

"However, there were always the few who tried to rebel, who tried to prevent this cycle from continuing. Despite this however, those that did try to rebel were often sacrificed in the end regardless, yet there was always one they knew they could not truly sacrifice for it would throw the very universe in chaos."

The dark-skinned could only grit his teeth in defeat as the cataclysm of mana rained from the sky. Storms of debris from beyond the heavens pulled toward the earth as the remains of his avatar's laser spread throughout the lands, turning everything it touched into nothingness or soot. His anger was soon replaced by sadness as his attention turned toward the Great Spirit of Light and the other spirits that attempted to rally with him; before his very eyes, Luna's sadness was fading with her physical form, as did the bodies of this era's incarnations of Efreet, Undine, Sylph, Gnome, Volt, and Celsius. No, it wasn't just these emotions of sorrow he saw in her eyes, it was the disbelief in betrayal, her eyes focused on her other half as his form remained as the seal that bound him began to dissipate.

"Why, Aska…?" she questioned before she fully disappeared into the void. "Why, Aska?"

As the seven disappeared before his very eyes, the Primordial Spirit of time could only fall to his knees in defeat. Once more, his attempts at rebelling against the new era had come to failure.

"Once again I am the victor," the previous Maxwell gloated to his rival. "Your champion this time was even weaker than the last."

As much as he wished to deny his foe of this fact, he could only accept the truth. Mankind was indeed becoming more sinful with every generation, and with their growing sins, the weaker they would become. In truth, he was losing more and more faith in humanity; admiration was turning more into loathing, disgusted by their growing selfishness and hatred for their fellow man.

"How much longer do you intend to defy this cycle, Sekundes?" the Lord of Spirits questioned the Primoridal Spirit of Time. "Oh my apologies, I always forget each era that you have long since abandoned that name, instead choosing to give it to your champion with every era. So then, Chronos," he corrected himself, "do you concede defeat and accept that this is the only way to prevent Nereid's resurrection?"

"…it is as you say, humans truly are disgusting creatures," he hopelessly concurred.

"Hmph, I'm glad you finally understand," Maxwell huffed. "Very well then. Pluto, Gremlin's Lair, Verius, Chameleon, Aska, Shadow, let us return to the spirit realm; we should decide new heirs for the fallen, lest the remains of this world fall asunder."

With nothing more to be said, the remaining Great Spirits and their lord disappeared, leaving the Primordial Spirit of Time alone as he was left after the end of every era. Yet just like at the end of every era, his old friend would soon appear.

"Maxwell is wrong, Chronos," Origin tried to assure him. "Humanity is not beyond salvation. If only he could see the good in humans; if just one person could touch his heart, then-"

"…humanity is little more than a cesspool of existence," the dark-skinned spirit shockingly interrupted. "They truly are nothing more than selfish, disgusting creatures."

The white spirit found himself taken aback by his old friend's words, finding an empty husk of a person now rising before him. Though his face was stern, the life in his eyes was missing. There was no anger or sadness in his voice nor his expression, there was simply nothing.

"Chronos, don't let Maxwell's words get to you," Origin tried to reason with him once again. "One day, a champion will come and prove him wrong! With this next era, I'm sure-"

"There will be no 'one day'," the Primordial Spirit of Time continued. "I was a fool to be put my faith in humans. They truly do deserve to be wiped out with every era; perhaps it would be best if they were simply wiped out entirely. After all, even you must acknowledge the miasma you accumulate from each soul you process has become even dirtier than the last. In time, there will be no actual souls to purify, only darkness that will breed even more darkness. Humanity should rot for all I care."

"Chronos, are you listening to what you're saying?! I can't believe you of all people-!"

"I'm done giving humanity chances. They should simply be left to their fate when the time comes."

"Well I'm not done giving up!" the white spirit disagreed. "Just one more time then. That's all I'm asking Chronos. However, let's not gamble on the next era, but instead, on something else. Give a fraction of your power to a human, but not just any human, a human that Maxwell himself favors."

"It seems I am not the only one who has gone mad," Chronos groaned at his friend's proposal.

"No, please, hear me out. If Maxwell should find favor to a human, I propose you offer them a fraction of your power. As you know, your power can create alternate dimensions if abused; if said human and their descendants abuse their power to create a million of these Divergence Catalysts, then humanity is truly lost and you can then destroy these inheritors of your power at that time. Maxwell can then continue to destroy civilizations at the end of era as long as he deems it necessary."

"And if these humans are to somehow pass this trial, then what? You realize that in order to pass this trial, that very same human will perish, and that will be left will be the despicable remains of their race."

"I doubt that will be the case; even you must acknowledge that this trial cannot be won by a single person alone. Even if one who is given your power should succeed, it is unlikely they can overcome the trial alone; they will need comrades, friends, who will need to assist them in this task. Surely these individuals will have the same heart and drive as the one who is bestowed with your power."

"But even if we were to create this trial of yours, even the most selfless of humans will need a reason to undergo this journey."

"Then we shall grant them a single wish, anything of their choice; surely such a simple reward will be enough to drive them to undergo the trial."

"…you're too soft on the humans, my old friend. Very well, I will agree to this trial; however, I have another proposition. Should these humans fail their trial, then you will instead unleash the entirety of miasma unto their world. Right now a majority of it has been sealed in the general area where my previous champion and Maxwell fought; even if a majority of it is being suppressed, there's no doubt it will affect the humans living in these lands. I can only hypothesize that will transform them into beasts or monsters in time, especially if they are consumed further by negative emotions such as anger and despair."

"There are rumblings within the candidates to become the next Great Spirits that they grow weary of Maxwell's cycle of death and rebirth. I've even heard that many of them instead wish to join the humans in these lands in an effort to help them rebuild their civilizations and guide them toward a brighter future."

"Then they too are fools. Surely even they realize that they too can be corrupted by the miasma, even if it is a lower concentration than what is found within the Underworld and the pockets that have been sealed away in the other continents. Do they think they can be humanity's saviors, they're 'seraphim'? In time, even they too will realize humanity is not worth saving, and they will also fall into the same cycle of death and rebirth that Maxwell brings upon the rest of the world."

The vision from the past faded once more. Again Milla was left speechless by the revelations that were presented to her; the seraphim, the people of Glenwood, they too were all victims of her predecessor's actions. It was only now that she began to understand Chronos' hatred for the one who inherited the Title of Maxwell and for humans. He was sick of them all, the endless cycle of destruction caused by the Lord of Spirits, and he was sick of what was becoming of humanity over the following eras; even his champions were becoming less and less noble with every era, so much that he had lost all faith in humanity. Origin's Trial was to be Chronos' last test to see if there was still some good in humanity, but also to see who could possibly save the world from Nereid.

Wait, save the world from Nereid? Was that what this was all about? This whole time, was this what Amilla's true goal was, to find another path to stopping the Heir of Vatenkeist instead of walking down the path of destruction once more?

"…I understand now…," the former Lord of Spirits finally spoke. "It is true when you said that your goal has always been Nereid, but-"

"When the sins of humanity reach their peak, the seal of Nereid begins to weaken," the Demon King began to explain. "At this time, Maxwell would always destroy a majority of civilizations and humankind in order to reset these sins in a way. It's like changing a bandage each time it gets dirty without every taking care of the wound itself. Even if you have to agree that your predecessor's actions are anything but just."

She was certainly right in a way. This endless cycle, this 'era of destruction and rebirth', it needed to end; even the rest of the Great Spirits now understood that. However-

The blaze ignited within her was smoldering again, the fires of anger and rage pulsing through her entire being. Yet this burning sensation would soon cool, being replaced by a chilly presence that began to swell to overtake her. The grip on her sword tightened into a strangle-like hold, her teeth biting down on another as if they were taking hold of her foe's throat, and her eyes narrowed as they fully concentrated on the woman standing before her.

"'Just', you want to talk about being 'just'?" she seethed through haggard breath. "You ended the lives of many innocent people, you destroyed my village, you killed Ivar, you-!"

"…I never wanted to get others involved if I didn't have to and it was never my intent to destroy Nia Khera…," Amilla remorsefully admitted. "I didn't want to kill Ivar, and it's like you said, it was never my goal to kill you. I won't make any excuses for my actions, but you of all people need to understand-"

"I understand that you must die!"

Something was different about the former Lord of Spirits, her ability to reason having been overtaken by emotions, feelings she would have never simply succumbed to in the past. Without speaking further, she quickly swung her sword again, the Demon King barely deflecting her strike with her left forearm. Despite have blocked Milla's strike, Amilla found herself in shock as her prime counterpart took hold of the same wrist, clenching her hand tightly around it so that she may also pull her nemesis closer as she lunged with her sword in her right. Instinctively, the Demon King retaliated before the stab could connect, flipping backward with a kick to free herself from the former Maxwell's grasp while putting some space between them.

"Verius, what the heck happened?!" Amilla questioned her subordinate. "We had her for a moment, so why-?"

There was no need for the fox-like spirit to reply however, her answer soon becoming apparent before their very eyes. Looking up, she found the Eternal Sword still embedded within the seal above them, and with it, a dark stream that sifted toward Milla now, creating a black aura that smoldered around her body. The atmosphere and the endless blue skies behind them were also beginning to darken, the touch of ice filling the air and encroaching upon her skin. There was no doubt that the desire for revenge was overtaking the former Lord of Spirits, the idea overtaking her as a swirling stream of darkness poured from the conflicting streams above.

"Lord Sekundes," Verius tried to speak now. "The Eternal Sword, it's causing the malevolence to-!"

"Yeah, no need for your report now, Captain Obvious!" the Demon King sarcastically interrupted as she cursed at her own carelessness.

The fighting that was concurrently ongoing between the Avatar of Chronos' subordinates and her prime counterpart's allies had suddenly come to a halt now, just as Amilla and Milla's remaining comrades arrived at the base of the platform. All were in shock as they saw the darkness looming over them, the growing shadows that enveloped the former Maxwell as inhuman snarls and growls escaped her lips.

"Milla, what's wrong?" her husband now began to approach her. "Milla?"

His concerning words quickly fell on deaf ears as a wave of the black aura quickly swung at him, pushing him backward, forcing him toward his allies, stopping just before their feet as they all rushed to his aid. Despite their concern, he remained fully concentrated on his wife as the darkness began to envelop her further.

"Milla!" he cried her name once again.

"…it's the same as that day…," Meizen could only watch in horror as flashes of the previous Head Scholar came to light once more. "When Olga-"

"What the?" the Head Scholar's left arm began to twitch from where she stood.

At first it seemed to be little more than a tingle, one barely noticeable to the eye, but within seconds, it began to tremble, quickly catching the attention of everyone within the vicinity as it began to rise upward. A black energy similar to the one flowing into Milla was now dissipating from her arm, forcing Ana to the ground, her voice immediately screaming in anguish as the darkness quickly pulled itself toward the former Maxwell.

"Ana!" the Head Scholar's brother cried as his sibling's pain intensified.

Things were definitely going from bad to worse, but why was this happening? None of this was going how Amilla predicted. Despite the anger and hatred she stirred within her prime counterpart, it should have definitely been not enough to make her into a candidate for Nereid's avatar, especially considering she still had her friends and husband to keep her grounded.

Yet it was at this point she truly began to notice where a majority of the malevolence was flowing into. It's true that Milla was far from the perfect host for Nereid, but she had forgotten about the other life growing inside her, the pure soul that was absorbing every essence of mana within it. The Heir of Vatenkeist wasn't looking to take control of Milla, it was intending to take control of the child growing within her!

"Damn it, this isn't what I wanted!" Amilla cursed once more. "Everyone, we need to stop fighting each other and-!"

A sharp pain suddenly began to pull against the Avatar of Chronos now, quickly wrenching her into the ground as a sigil of created by violet mana circled beneath her. The Demon King found herself unable to stand now, her chest completely flat against the floor, her head barely able to look up to see a white sigil encircling above her and the prime counterpart of her sister speaking the incantation of a mystic arte Chronos himself had warned her of.

"I stand in the place of bathed in heavenly light," the current Maxwell chanted as the two sigils began to collapse on one another with the Demon King in its center. "Thou art where the gate to the Underworld opens."

"Lord Sekundes, no!" the Lord of Monsters cried.

Without warning, Ratatosk immediately charged at the current Lord of Spirits, leaping into the air with his sword swinging above his head, attempting to slam it down toward Muzét. However, the Rieze Maxian king quickly came to her aid, knocking away the spirit's strike. Immediately thereafter, the Forbidden Spirit Chameleon's tongue immediately wrapped itself around the monarch's wrist in retaliation. Seeing this, the former mercenary now opened fire at the lizard-like entity, the comrades of both parties resuming their battle as the darkness and light loomed underneath and above her, ready to take her at the end of the current Lord of Spirits' chanting. She had told her prime counterpart that she could easily reincarnate should she die, but to be sealed away by this arte like her predecessors, this was not something that could easily be undone, this was not something she could afford if she was to save their world!

"Come forth divine lightning. Indig-!"

"Rain of destruction, I summon thee…," the former Maxwell's voice now spoke above everyone else's, bringing her sister's words to a halt.

"Milla?" her sister immediately stopped the casting of her arte as the rest of the fighting quickly came to an immediate halt.

"We need to stop her!" Amilla quickly ordered everyone. "She's going to destroy the entire world if we let her keep this up!"

"Wait a second, aren't you the one who's trying to destroy the world?!" the former mercenary found himself puzzled by her words.

"I was under that impression too," Mikleo also joined in disbelief. "What the heck is going on?!"

"Through the Will of Paracelsus, I invoke the Xillia Pact. Muzét Maxwell, Efreet, Undine, Sylph, Gnome, Ratatosk, Mikleo, Edna, Lailah, Zaveid, Rose, Alisha, Symonne, accept these thirteen Great Spirits and those descended from their exiled brethren I have gathered and use their existence as the catalyst that shall end this reign of sin and cleanse it all new once more!"

With the names of the thirteen names now spoken, the aforementioned spirits and seraphim immediately found themselves being flung backward, stopping before sigils of red mana that outlined the perimeter of the platform from which they stood.

"Edna!" the water seraph screamed to his wife as she hovered across from him.

"Meebo!" the earth seraph cried in return.

"Damn it, why can't I move?!" Rose cursed as she struggled in futility.

"…so it seems it has come to this…," Undine could only hang her head in sorrowful acceptance.

"As it once was, it shall be again," the Great Spirit of Fire hesitantly accepted their fate.

"I don't understand what's going on," Lailah spoke to Efreet, attempting to retain her composure. "What are you-? Augh!"

A crimson hue began to glow from the bodies of the thirteen now, the light adorning them pulling toward the former Maxwell, joining with the darkness that surrounded her. The red light that emitted from the thirteen darkened with every passing second, their struggles and screams becoming weaker. At the same time, the Head Scholar was now also writhing on the floor, the dark energy from her arm pulsating deeper as it combined with the aura that was overtaking Milla. Yet despite the atrocities that were being committed, the former Maxwell remained in place as thirteen sigils of mana began to take shape around her, being formed from the energy of the thirteen she had placed in seals.

"Milla, do you not realize what you're doing?!" her sister tried to plea now. "Milla!"

"Origins of time and space, bend to my will and crush Heaven and Earth as it was destined!" the former Lord of Spirits continued to chant in what seemed like an empty trance.

"I stopped it once before, so I can easily do it again!"

The son of the water and earth seraphim quickly sprang toward Milla now, his fist already launching itself forward at blinding speed. However, his body was quickly pushed back by the accumulating darkness, tossing back from whence he came as if he were little more than a ragdoll. Regardless, it was her friends' turn to act, each of them reluctantly taking up their arms against their beloved comrade.

"Milla, we're sorry about all this…," Leia said on behalf of everyone before leading the charge forward.

Without saying another word, the editor quickly charged forward with her staff, her boyfriend, the monarch, and even the former Squire quickly following behind. Yet just like Meizen however, the four were quickly knocked back by a wall of dark energy. Undeterred, Rowen and Elize now attempted to act, beginning their own incantations of elemental artes as the young agent activated the contents of her watch once more. Their efforts were quickly made for naught however as the same dark energy quickly found the three of them, lashing out at them and striking them down just as quickly as their allies. Only two remained standing other than the Demon King and the spirits tethered to her now, both somewhat hesitant to act, but for different reasons.

"Please, stay back," Sorey ordered the young researcher.

"Wait, what are you doing?" Jude questioned as he began his approach. "That's my wife!"

"I'm really sorry about all this, but as a Shepherd, it's my duty to purify all forms of malevolence. I know it's not much consolation, but I promise you I'll do everything I can to make sure your wife doesn't suffer."

"Wait!"

The Legendary Shepherd now charged, his entire form now set ablaze with a familiar silver flame that adorned his entire body. The dark energy quickly dissipated from the touch of Maotelus's blessing, creating what seemed like a clear path as he charged. Within seconds, he was within reach of the former Maxwell, finding her essentially wide open. Another concentration of the silver flame now burned into his left fist, his arm quickly launching itself forward as his next words.

"Please forgive me, but this is my everything! Lion's How-!"

The dissipated black mana immediately took shape again, taking the form of what seemed like infinite prehensile limbs, wrapping themselves around his around his arms and legs, preventing him from moving another inch. Unlike the others, it seemed she saw him as a more viable threat, instead ordering the darkness that surrounded him to simply pull him away from her, yet keep him completely bound as she continued her incantation.

"May the souls of the unworthy perish and those that seek rebirth prevail! Meteor Sto-!"

Her words quickly came to a halt now, her body suddenly being pulled backward as the familiar embrace of another wrapped around her now. The instant she felt his presence, her body immediately react by attempting to draw her sword, but the moment her eyes met his amber pupils, clarity seemed to return to her for but a moment, the aura around her beginning to dissipate and her heart cleansed once more.

"Jude?"

"This isn't you, Milla," her husband tried to reason with her. "Wasn't it your duty to save the world, not destroy it?"

"It is my duty to save the world, but as the former Maxwell, it is also my duty to stop her, no matter what the cost!"

"Milla-!"

The darkness once again came between them, attempting to rip husband and wife apart. Despite the violent of rush of freezing energy that tried to pull them apart, the young researcher remained completely in place, his body now battered and bloodied from the sudden burst of malevolence. Another rush of the black aura tried to come between them again thereafter, this time tearing him asunder, hurling him into the deep into the darkness and away from sight. Upon seeing this, the Avatar of Chronos knew that her former Prime self was now losing any semblance of her self, the source of darkness slowly overtaking the last vestiges of her being.

Regret was all the more clear in Amilla's heart as a familiar look of sorrow became all the more apparent on her face now. Like one of her predecessors, she too hoped that taking the role of 'villain' would end this cycle once for all, that it would unite her old comrades and her prime self into making the right decision, to prevent the acts of genocide that had continued since the birth of the universe as they knew it.

Her attention turned to the spirits and seraphim that were bound by ancient sigils, their deafening screams piercing into the heavens as the mana that gave rise to their existence pulled into the growing darkness. Pity filled her further as she saw the allies she had gathered also writhing in pain or captured by the darkness. Regret consumed further consumed her as she saw the men and women she befriended ten years ago defeated and unmoving, the aura of malevolence slowly consuming them. Yet above all, frustration, anger, and sorrow overtook her as she looked into the monotone and empty eyes of Milla Mathis, finding the same look her predecessor had displayed before the end of every era prior.

Though the previous Maxwell was never overtaken by the Heir of Vatenkeist, the intended result was the same. Through Milla, Nereid was going to destroy this world before moving onto the next. Using her powers as the former Maxwell, he will unleash the Lord of Spirits' mystic arte upon this world and plunge it into chaos. There was no other choice now it seemed; destiny was once again doomed to repeat itself. Despite how hard she tried, how much she wished, her quest had ended in failure. However, she would not lose hope; if she could not end this cycle of destruction, death, and rebirth, then perhaps another could and her death would not be in vain. With regret, the Demon King rose once more and began to chant the words of her predecessor.

"Blessed by the Lord of Creation, I culminate the light of life into my hands…," she began.

White streams of mana began to pull away from the Great Spirits and seraphim bound to the sigils now, the energy beginning to flow into the Avatar of Chronos in the same manner as the former Maxwell. Seals of white light soon took shape as they surrounded Amilla, just as her prime counterpart began to chant the words of destruction once more.

"Through the Will of Paracelsus, I invoke the Xillia Pact," Milla chanted once more. "Muzét Maxwell, Efreet, Undine, Sylph, Gnome, Ratatosk, Mikleo, Edna, Lailah, Zaveid, Rose, Alisha, Symonne, accept these thirteen Great Spirits and those descended from their exiled brethren I have gathered and use their existence as the catalyst that shall end this reign of sin and cleanse it all new once more!"

Light and darkness immediately began to wrestle with one another, entangling between themselves as the savior and destroyer continued in their destined struggle. In spite of the events occurring before, the young researcher remained completely in place, the clashing of light and darkness continuing to freeze and burn him simultaneously as his pleas became silent, but still earnest. He was little more than spectator at this point it seemed, nothing more than an insect in the eyes of the fated ones that fought before him as they both continued their incantations.

"Origins of time and space, bend to my will and crush Heaven and Earth as it was destined!"

"Fire, water, wind, earth, light, darkness, I command thee bend to my will to shape this era…"

Another rush of light and darkness, the swirling contradictions continuing to violent pull everything apart. From the corner of her eye, Amilla could see the effects of their artes already taking effect, the several crackles of the energy ricocheting outward and into the world below them. Though these blasts were tiny any perhaps insignificant at first glance, the Demon King could only imagine what destruction it caused below. However, she could not bring herself to be concerned with that at this very moment, there was still a more important task she had to complete.

"May the souls of the unworthy perish and those that seek rebirth prevail!"

"Rain upon my foes and those that who dare stand before the streams of time itself; I heed that you defy thy blessing of Paracelsus and deliver the Reins of Fate to those who walk down its path…"

"Meteor Sto-!"

"Sekundes Las-!"

"Enough!"

A blunt impact suddenly interrupted both of their chants, followed by a blunt impact that struck the two in the jaw simultaneously. With the surprise attack, the clashing of light and darkness suddenly came to a stop, as did the steams of mana that flowed from the Great Spirits and seraphim, the atmosphere becoming clear once more. Anger immediately filled Amilla's being as she quickly pulled herself from the floor after realizing she had been punched by a third party, her temper lightening somewhat as she noticed Milla had also been struck in the same manner by the same individual. Yet who was it that had attacked the two of them; the last thing she recalled before being interrupted was a purple blur that-

"Both of you need to stop this!" the visitor from another world pleaded with both of them, now standing in between the two.

"Don't interfere, Sophie," the former Maxwell ordered, seemingly still under the influence of the darkness. "This doesn't concern you."

"Of course it concerns me!" the purple-haired girl replied, her tone as serious as ever. "You said it yourself; the two of us walk down the same path, as both savior and a mother. It's because we both walk down the same path that I can't let you continue the way you're currently going."

"I see," Amilla now picked herself off the ground now, "so you were the backup plan Martel talked about, Sophie Lhant."

"This isn't your world, and this shouldn't be your concern," Milla continued. "As the former Maxwell, it is my duty to end the life of the Demon King, it is my duty to kill-!"

"Milla, don't you see what's happening to you?"

Turning to the source of this fourth voice, the Demon King now found her prime counterpart's husband weakly standing from where he had been flung, and standing behind him, each of their comrades and friends they had made ten years ago. Even further back were Amilla's own comrades, the Head Scholar, her brother, and their seraph, also recovering from their injuries. Even the Great Spirits and seraphim that were still bound by the sigils were also seemingly recovering, each of them alert and looking toward the scene playing before them.

"Your wish to kill Amilla, it's consuming you, it's blinding you from everything else; Nereid is using it to control you!" Jude continued as he made his approach to the battlefield. "This isn't like you, Milla, it's not like you at all to put things like 'waxing sentimentality' as you used to call it above what truly matters."

"She killed so many just to accomplish her goals," the former Maxwell tried to reason. "She destroyed my village, she murdered Ivar! How can you simply refer to these things as 'waxing sentimentality' when-?"

"Milla, wasn't it our wish to create a peaceful world where our daughter could live?" he reminded her. "Didn't we want to create a place where she wouldn't have to struggle, where she could simply exist and enjoy the life she was given?"

His words were calming her further, the black aura surrounding her gradually disappearing as the mana and the sigils around them began to stop glowing. Her 'waxing sentimentality' was getting the best of her now, the subject of their daughter slowly returning her composure. Yet her anger still remained, the painful last memory of the ones who raised her still fresh as she spoke her next words.

"Even I didn't destroy this era, then what happens to our daughter? She'll be hunted down simply for existing. It was not her decision to absorb mana at an alarming rate, to cause nature to wither and die with her presence alone. Perhaps by resetting everything, she can-!"

"But can you really live with that decision, Milla? To give her such a world by destroying ours?"

"…I…"

"And of the other mothers who have their own children to care for?" Sophie now questioned. "Would you destroy myself and my child, along with many others just so yours could live? How would they feel? How would you feel if it was you and your daughter that were made to such a sacrifice?"

The light in her eyes began to take shape once more, emotion and reason becoming balanced within the former Lord of Spirits' soul once more. Yet as she began to recompose herself, another vision of the past also became more clear, the final piece of the puzzle as to why she and Jude were brought to Glenwood centuries ago.

"So this will decide everything…," Milla recalled back then as she and her future husband waited at the top of this strange island.

This would be the final test against the Lord of Calamity, to see if she had still kept some semblance of her humanity or if she had truly become an irredeemable monster. Will she choose to let the world continue on its current course, or would she choose the path of selfishness and accept Goldipen's 'offer' to take her back to the past in hopes of changing the present and future?

"May I ask you something?" the Harbinger of the End suddenly inquired of the two. "I'm aware that you have committed yourselves as being the guardians of your world and that you would go to such great lengths to save it. However, if the time came between choosing between the few or the many, what would you choose?"

"I'd try to save as many as I could to be honest," Jude replied.

"Unfortunately, I must question who are the few and who are the many," Milla answered. "For example, those many could potentially be individuals with nothing but evil in their hearts, and the few many be innocents. But as you've pointed out not too long ago, one's perception of good and another's perception of evil may also vary. Unfortunately, this is not an answer that would be easy to give, but as Jude said, I too would try to save as many as I could."

"Then what about sacrificing the current generation in order to save a future one?" Goldipen now inquired. "Say the current generation contains a population of a million, would you sacrifice them in order to save potentially a billion or more in the years to come? Or would you save this million, but prevent many of those in the future from being born?"

Another difficult question, one that certainly made Milla question her own validity to inherit the role of Maxwell. However, she couldn't help but acknowledge that this decision may one day fall upon her. Before her journey with Jude and the others, she knew she would certainly choose to sacrifice the few, to save the many, but things were different now. Still, it was a different question to answer, one she couldn't help but give a moment to ponder on.

"When Desolation first came to be, the malakhim believed they could live in harmony with the humans that roamed these lands," the Harbinger of the End began to speak. "The ancient myths of this land forgotten by humans and all but the eldest malakhim state that this land was borne from sin, and that the humans that inhabited it were but a few precious survivors of wrath brought about by the heavens. However, these survivors were not chosen by the heavens for some were just as sinful as their brethren that had perished. The malakhim believed they could try to come to an understanding with these people regardless, but unfortunately, after they descended from the heavens, they too would be affected by the humans' sins, transforming into great beasts just like the most sinful of Man. Many malakhim came to regret their decision, but unfortunately, they would not be permitted to return to the heavens and they were forced to remain on this earthly plane.

"In time, the humans began to multiply, as well as the evils within their hearts. With the number of malakhim quickly dwindling with every generation, one malak decided to bring retribution against the sinful humans. Using their accumulating sins to empower himself, he would one day bring upon the same heavenly wrath that had destroyed their ancestors prior, destroying countless lives. In order to save the masses of the future, he would sacrifice the masses of the now, time and time again; however, just as the malakhim's own predecessor who brought about the original divine retribution, the destruction did not discriminate between sinner and saint.

"This cycle of death and rebirth has occurred over thousands of years; every time humanity reaches a certain point, Innominat would absorb this land's malevolence to empower himself before bringing divine wrath unto it, cleansing these lands as it were. That time is once again nigh, but this time, the fate of this world lies in the hand of Velvet Crowe. I do not know if she will bring this world salvation or damnation, but I believe after fighting you, I will have my answer.

"So once again, I ask you, Milla Maxwell, what would you choose? Sacrifice the many of the present so that many more could live in the future, or save the many of the present and prevent the lives of tomorrow from being born?"

Even after hearing Goldipen's tale, a decision to his question was still hard to come by. No, it wasn't difficult to come by; she had an answer, but one many would not find satisfactory, one even her old self would have scoffed at. Thinking of no other reply, Milla gave her answer.

"As Jude and I said before, I would still try to save as many as I could."

"You certainly are an interesting one," the golden bird smiled. "Perhaps you really are different than your predecessor."

"My predecessor? You mean you know-?"

"Hold on," Jude quickly interrupted their conversation. "Someone's coming!"

"Oh, it's Jude and Milla!" a young boy and the Lord of Calamity's party now approached.

"…this isn't me…," the former Maxwell began to calm down further with the fading memory. "I said I would never-"

"We would try to save as many as we could, that's what we said back then, right?" her husband reminded her of their words back then.

"It's not just you who decided that," Leia now joined the conversation. "I think I speak for all of us when I say we feel the same way."

"After all, why would we have been willing to go through hell three times and back if that weren't the case?" Alvin added.

"It is unfortunate, but there will always be casualties in war, but that doesn't mean we would simply stand idly by and not try to save as many as we could," Rowen was the next to speak.

"Ten years ago when we traveled to the Land of Canaan with Ludger, even though we couldn't save everyone from the Fractured Dimensions, you still made the effort to save me," Elle recalled.

"The innocent should never have to suffer if it can be helped, and help we must, not just because of my role as king, but because we are human," Gaius spoke next.

"Or in our case, spirits, or rather former spirits," Muzét corrected herself from where she still hung.

"Or puppets and seraphim," Elize added with Teepo and Bienfu sitting on her shoulders.

"Or beings that are simply alive," Sophie added herself in as well.

"We share the same goal, Milla Mathis," Amilla surprisingly spoke now. "To save as many people as possible, to end this cycle of death and rebirth that has occurred since the inception of this world. Look, I know you're going to find it hard to trust me after everything I put you all through," the Demon King quickly saw the animosity in each of their eyes. "But trust me, I had my reasons, I had my role I had to play in order to bring you all to this point."

"And what role would that be?" Milla questioned.

"…every epic must have its villain…," Symonne weakly replied, remaining bound by the seal that kept her. "There must always be a device that unites the heroes to their noble cause. It is only natural for individuals to grow apart over time, and thus, there needed to be a force that would tie you all together once more; as such, we chose to become that force."

"It's unfortunate that we had to drag Gilford into this, but we had to make sure that all of you would participate in this venture, even if it meant tugging at your heartstrings," Ratatosk apologized to the businessman. "That, and he was the only one who could truly keep Luna sane."

"I'm not going to ask for forgiveness, redemption, or whatever; I know my fate was sealed the moment I was reborn as Sekundes," the Avatar of Chronos continued. "However, if I can do just one good deed, if I can save your world from a fate worse than mine, then it will all be worth it."

"…Milla…," the last heir of Kresnik addressed her by her former name. "Why would you do all this?"

Why would she? She was not of this world, she had no business saving a plane of existence she did not dwell from. She was from a realm that should have existed, a manifestation of a world that diverged from the path fate had forged. She should never have existed, she should never have lived, she never should have been born, but…

"…it's because I still care about all of you and this world we saved…"

…but these emotions, these feelings she had, these memories she treasured, they did exist, they were indeed real, in her hearts and theirs.

"Amilla…," her prime self's expression began to soften.

She did not think it was possible; even though they were supposed to be the same person, even though they were supposed to be enemies, Amilla believed, no, Amilla knew she and Milla had come to an understanding. Even though anger and hate was still evident in Milla's heart, Amilla knew that for now, she could look past that, she could look toward the goal that was set out for them; the task both of their predecessors were too scared to accomplish on their own, a task that had been neglected for far too long.

"Argh!" the Head Scholar screamed once more.

"Sister Ana!" the former Squire cried in response.

"Damn it, it wasn't like this last time!" Meizen cursed as the black energy from her left arm glowed once more.

The darkness that had subsided became evident once more, escaping from Anastasia's arm as her brother and seraph attempted to console her from the pain. The black aura once again swirled around the party, remaining within the confines of the thirteen Great Spirits and seraphim, hovering into the pierced ancient seal that hung above them.

"We haven't much time," the Avatar of Chronos announced as the darkness attempted to swallow them once again. "We need to reseal the miasma and malevolence; once it's all in there, I can finally bring it all to an end."

"And just how are we supposed to do that?!" the former mercenary questioned.

"We'll need to divert the miasma and malevolence back into the seal," Amilla began to explain. "I can do it; using the thirteen bound to the Xillia Pact, it should give us mana to safely divert it back into the and repair the seal. By combining our powers as the former Lord of Spirits and Avatar of Chronos, Milla and I should be able to force the darkness into a single path; we'll need all of you to lend me your mana as well in order to accomplish this. Once all of the darkness is back in place, I can jump inside it with the Eternal Sword and bring a stop to its existence. Don't worry, even if I'm using all of your mana, it shouldn't be enough to kill or turn you like the previous pacts."

"When you say 'stop its existence', what exactly do you mean?" Jude questioned.

"I'm the Avatar of Chronos, his power flows through me as long as he wills it, and as such, once I'm in its center, I'll activate his power one more time, freezing Nereid's existence once and for all, preventing them from ever attempting to break out once more. Furthermore, by taking the Eternal Sword with me, it will create a subspace that will make it nigh impossible for anyone to venture into, one even Chronos cannot enter."

"Amilla, do you realize what will happen if you do that?" it was Milla's turn to inquire. "Should you freeze Nereid when you are at their center, you too will also be frozen for the rest of eternity. Chronos will simply use you as a conduit for the rest of eternity to keep Nereid from ever rising again; time will forever be frozen to you, leaving you unable to ever move, smile, cry, or even recall any memories. You will simply exist in nothingness, between life and death forevermore."

"It doesn't matter, I never should have existed to begin with…," Amilla lamented once more. "However, these feelings I developed for you all ten years ago, these memories we share, the time we spent together, they do exist. If my sacrifice ensures that these things can still live on through you all, then that's enough for me."

"Amilla…"

"Don't try and give me your 'waxing sentimentality'," she looked to her prime counterpart with an uneasy smile. "You're supposed to hate me, remember? If it helps, I can say the feeling's mutual; I knew I would never like you."

"Fair enough."

"Now then, please bear this just a little longer," the Lord of Time and Space addressed those still bound to their sigils. "Let this be the last time such a pact would ever have to be made, the last time Nereid's seal would ever risk breaking.

"I call to the Lord of Creation, grant me and the Lord of Spirits your blessing!" Amilla called to the heavens once more.

The thirteen that sigils bound the Great Spirits and seraphim suddenly turned white, containing the black energy that was flowing from the open seal and the Head Scholar's arm. Despite now being caged, the darkness immediately fell into disarray, with several tendrils of the dark aura crashing against the invisible confines the mana symbols created. However, within seconds, the miasma soon turned its attention to the center who remained at the chaos's center, immediately rushing toward them from every possible angle. However, the black aura would again ricochet outward by another barrier, this one a wall of silver flame ignite by one who had been all but forgotten for a few moments.

"I'm not sure what exactly this is, but if it's anything like malevolence, I can keep it at bay, no problem," Sorey assured everyone, his arms stretched outward as the flames of purification continued to protect them.

"Thank you," Jude spoke on behalf of everyone.

"We call upon the those bound to the Xillia Pact and the men, women, spirits and seraphim who accompany us to lend us their mana," Milla continued their chant as she and her former Fractured counterpart raised their open palms into the air. "Friends and family, we beseech your aid, grant us the power to forever dispel the darkness into the light."

A pure white aura began to emanate from everyone now, said light soon flowing into the former Lord of Spirits and the Avatar of Chronos like air and water. With the flow of mana now traversing into the pair, the sigils that carried their comrades now drawing inward, funneling the dark aura into a single column of darkness.

"With the Light of His Grace, we plunge the darkness back to whence it came as we transfer the Reins of Fate back to those who were forced upon its pact," Amilla continued.

The black aura was now forcefully shooting upward, the darkness practically being torn as it was being pulled back into the seal above them. The miasma would only become more wild, more desperate with every passing second, continuing to crash against the invisible barriers set up by the sigils like a wild animal desperate to escape its cage. However, its efforts would be for naught as the dark aura slowly began to lose its strength, the last of it nearing the seal once more.

"…I guess this really is the end…," Amilla said as she addressed all of her former comrades.

"Milla, don't-," Elle tried to object, only to be silenced by her former guardian's next words.

"As I said many times before, Elle. I am no longer Milla; I am Amilla Sekundes, the Lord of Time and Space. And as the Lord of Time and Space, I have a task I need to fulfill."

"Amilla…"

"…hold it stead while I finish it…," she ordered her prime self, placing her hand on her shoulder before turning to the sky above.

The swirling darkness was become even more violent, more desperate as it tried to crash against the original seal that held it. Its efforts appeared to be in vain as the mana borrowed began to reform each of the symbols on the seal; the Heir of Vatenkeist's will was becoming all the more weaker, as if it were a beast using the last of its strength before falling. With all but a sliver of the dark aura now confined, the Eternal Sword now fell from where it hung, its hilt perfectly falling into the wielder's hand. For but a moment, the Avatar of Chronos stared into the violet blade, peering into own reflection, and with it, the memories she had made in both of her lifetimes in practically an instant. Though filled with many regrets, she knew what she had to do; this would never excuse her for the many atrocities she committed in either of her lifetimes, but at the very least, it would prevent even more deaths for generations to come.

"Eternal Sword, grant me the Power of Creation for but a moment," she chanted as she glided the fingers of her left hand over the flat sides of the relic. "Create a space that is between life and death, an existence that stands amidst past, present, and future, but never intersecting. Create a world that is all but impossible to enter, a universe of everything and nothing that shall come from the swing of your blade."

With the violet relic in hand, the Lord of Time and Space leapt toward the center of the chaos, her form standing out amongst the never-ending sea of darkness and chaos. She was but a single light in the eternal black, a single beacon in the starless night, and soon, she would find herself at its center, a world with nothingness forevermore and yet…

"Grant us this blessing, O Lord of Creation! Grant us this freedom humans, spirits, seraphim, and all living creatures have sought. May this cycle finally come to an end as I speak thy name that had long since been forgotten. Syf-!"

…and yet like several shooting stars, this beacon would also fall.

"Ugh?!"

A piece of dark metal had embedded itself within Amilla's spine, the black iron emitting an aura of red. As quickly as it cut into her flesh, the body plummeted back from whence she leapt, her body violently bouncing from the ground once before settling at the feet of her allies old and new. Much to her surprise, her prime self was the first one to come to her aid, kneeling beside her and holding her upright as best as she could to investigate the piece of metal that interrupted their ritual. Without even touching the dark piece, Milla already found herself wincing in pain, immediately recognizing the material this weapon was made of.

"This is the power of the void," the former Lord of Spirits quickly concluded.

"Pardon the intrusion," a rather dignified voice suddenly swept the area.

Turning to the source, standing behind all of them stood the red-haired magician, the darkness that was once gathering around Milla now being absorbed into her being. The black energy passed into her like the wind, causing the tresses of her hair to stand ever so slightly, but her body simply standing still, almost completely limp in fact. The very sight of her seemed to paralyze all those that gazed upon her, the former Splintered magician seemingly paying no mind. 'No mind', it truly felt as if that were the case as they looked closer, finding her booster hovering over her, as if invisible strings were dangled from Claritha's hands as they bound Zoe's limbs.

"Zoe?!" the young teacher exclaimed.

"It seems like a lot of things haven't been going the way I've been planning lately," Amilla seethed as she glared at the puppet's black eyes.

"My dear Lord Sekundes, you're just as short sighted as your predecessors it seems," the plush said, speaking rather haughtily. "Still, I must admit, you did try to see the bigger picture and did account for many factors when you planned this whole scenario; however, it seems your vision became all the more narrow in the end when it came to your former Prime self."

"You wanna talk about sight, I've got you in mine right now!"

Blam! Blam! Blam! Alvin had fired three shots from his pistol at the pair. To his surprise, two of the three bullets had struck the puppet, but one having met with the shoulder of its 'master'. The red-haired magician simply flinched at the impact of the bullet, despite it piercing through to the other side. She didn't even bother to take a glance at the wound, even as it began to bleed downward, enveloping her arm in the red rivers.

Yet even more surprising was the doll's reaction, who simply accepted the bullets and let them piece through her. Even though they had shot through her cotton-filled body, she simply dusted herself off as if the projectiles were little more than dirt that stained her clothes.

"Come now, did you really think it would be that easy?" the doll gloated.

"Guess I expected too much out of you in the end as well," Amilla spat, addressing her former comrades and the former Lord of Spirits. "Of course, it's easier to blame all of you than myself; I should've known it'd be too risky to bring you in along with your successor back then."

"Successor, what are you talking about?" Jude questioned.

"Before Luna and Aska, it was said that there was but a single Great Spirit that represented the element of Light," Verius recalled.

"Something like that," Pluto added. "She used to be a real big wig back then, nearly on par in terms of power as the old Maxwell and Chronis in fact. Something happened to her though after the end of a past era; now what was her name again?"

"I can answer that," Amilla interrupted. "She was the original Guardian of this World; in fact, she was its guardian during the last sealing of Nereid and the first sacrifice of the Xillia Pact millions of years ago. The people of her era called her 'Rem'; the original Great Spirit of Light."

"Rem…, now that's a name I haven't literally heard in over a billion years," the plush's lips stretched.

"If you're supposed to be this world's guardian, why did you attack Amilla just now?!" Elize questioned on everyone's behalf. "Why do you continue to manipulate Zoe to do such horrible things?!"

"Oh I'm sure you can already answer that first question yourself," the former Great Spirit replied with a huff. "After all, you needn't look further than my successor, Luna, to see what happened with her. Hmph, it's pathetic really; even after coming into the service of the Lord of Vatenkeist, a weakling such as her was willing to sacrifice everything for a mere human."

"Stuff it, Rags!" Alvin threatened, cocking his gun at the offhand mention of his cousin. "Unless you wanna replace all that hot air and cotton with lead."

"Go ahead and try, it's not like it will do anything in the long run," their foe continued to gloat. "After all, it's like you said; this body is merely a bunch of rags strewn together and is of little relevance to me.

"And as far as me manipulating Zoe to 'do such horrible things', I have done nothing of the sort. It was Zoe's decision to kill all those people who got in her way, it was her choice to consume the corpses of the hellions she had slain, it was her decision to kill those men that tried to harm you in Nia Khera all those years ago."

"No, that's not-," Elize tried to deny the doll of her words.

"Even if Zoe was the one to do a lot of those things, you were the one who coerced into doing them!" Teepo spoke on the young teacher's behalf. "You took advantage of her emotional state, pretending to be her support, acting like her protector when all you've been doing is bringing her more harm, doing all of these things to further your own personal goals!"

"Then what about you, can you not admit the same of yourself?" Claritha questioned. "Have you also not taken advantage of Zoe? Using her to shield you from the reality of Nia Khera, using her as your source of comfort after each of those experiments, toying with her emotions on love in order to stop her from fighting you, manipulating her heart's strings so that you and your friends could escape; tell me, Elize Lutus, aren't you also guilty of manipulating Zoe?"

Elize found herself unable to retort the doll's words, knowing full well that they were indeed true. Seeing this, the plush simply scoffed again, her attention returning to the matter at hand.

"I think we've talked enough on this subject for now. In any case, Lord Nereid, I beseech that you awaken and return to this world once more!"

The sheen of the Exsphere on Zoe's chest suddenly transformed into an endless black, her back arching backward as she screamed. Dark light taking the shape of a beast-like claw emerged outward from one of the plush's limbs, reaching into the path the party had created when attempting to seal the dark deity once more. The limb immediately took hold of the growing mass, attempting to pry it free from the seal, only to be stopped as the flames of purification attempted to push the seal and the demonic arm back into place.

"What a formidable opponent!" Sorey spat as he attempted to keep the darkness in place.

"Even if I didn't intervene, did you really think your plan was going to work?" Claritha taunted. "That seal is just like a dam after all; over time, sometimes the substance that it's trying to keep simply accumulates so much over time that it will not be enough to hold it back. Even if you were to have tried to freeze Nereid in a sub-space of its own, a portion of their existence would have still made it out just as it had 15 years ago; after all, what power do you think possessed the last two Head Scholars up until now?"

"You talk too much, you know that…," Amilla seethed, attempting to rise once more, only to be stopped by her Prime counterpart.

"Save your strength," Milla ordered. "If you can indeed stop the Heir of Vatenkeist, then we'll be counting on you to do so."

"Do you lot really think you can stop us?" Claritha boasted once more. "Your lot is already battered and bruised, each of you nearly at your limits if not already there. I really should thank you all for tiring each other out and-"

"Zip it…," the red-haired magician finally spoke, her voice as empty as the light in her eyes. "Let's just get this over with."

"Zoe?" Elize tried to plea with her childhood friend, but unable to find any other words to speak.

"Agreed," the doll nodded. "Zoe, you know what needs to be done then."

"Claritha, release all restrictions. Integrate usage of Classes One through Four Spirit Artes."

"Zoe, no, don't do it!" the young teacher tried to plea to her childhood friend. "Zoe!"

"Acknowledged," the plush spoke with a sense of glee. "Releasing Restrictions One through Four. Integrating usage of all known Spirit Artes!"

"Zoe!"

Streams of red mana immediately poured into the magician, forcing another bloodcurdling scream to escape her lips. The beams of energy quickly embedded themselves on her flesh, cutting into her skin like blades before resting on various parts of her body. Her wrists and ankles were fully wrapped in this red light, each of them moving like a conveyor belt that displayed runic scripture that dug further into her flesh with each revolution. The white on her clothes and eyes had been drained instantaneously, replaced by a crimson sheen that also dripped like the blood in represented. The tresses of her hair also became longer, wilder, almost as if each strand became a prehensile limb of their own. Tears that strewn from her eyes and down her cheeks created more strands of red moving runic lines, the scriptures themselves glowing with a brilliant font. Lastly, the chakrams that normally adorned her wrists had now broken into several pieces, only to hover behind her, acting as points as more scarlet mana streams emerged from the sides of her spine, creating the impression of wings that seemed to drag her body into the air.

"…Zoe…?" Elize tried to call to her friend once more.

"Elize…," an inhuman voice seethed through the red-haired woman's lips. "Waitun' (Prepare yourself)!"

Author's Note: And for now, the story comes to a close once more. As several revelations have been made in this chapter, I guess we should go over what happened.

I guess the big takeaway we came out with this chapter is Amilla has truly not been a villain this entire time; while she did state to the party that her goal has always been Nereid, she never did specifically mention what that goal was. However, I'm sure some readers would probably ask then why didn't just Amilla be honest with Milla from the beginning? If Amilla did try to talk to Milla in the beginning of the story when she was still Maxwell, I don't think it would have been likely that Milla would have believed her, and even if she did, she may have still decided to destroy the current era like the previous Maxwell (I think with Milla becoming pregnant, she is better able to empathize with humans if such an action was forced on them). For that matter, the entire party has been living their own separate lives, practically as strangers to one another prior to this current quest; in order to bring them back together, Amilla decided to take it upon herself and her subordinates to become 'villains' to unite them all against a single cause.

Another revelation we learned in this chapter is that Melrose is in fact Anastasia's long lost, little brother and true heir to the Scholars of the Crowe, Roland Diphda. I'm guessing this one wasn't as a big of a surprise as there were several allusions to it throughout this act. I don't think there's really a need for me to go into this one in much detail, so let's move on.

The next big takeaway from this chapter is the truth of the conflict between Maxwell and Sekundes. Just a head's up, this is going to get very wordy. (Keep in mind my [overly long] theory below is not canon to the entire Tales universe; although it uses official events and time periods, there is no official statement from Bandai Namco that the games depicted in this story are in fact linked and share a single timeline).

As we saw in this chapter, we now see why the conflict between Maxwell and Sekundes (who acts on Chronos' behalf) began. Again, this is only my personal theory that all of the Tales series are linked in some way, with Tales of Eternia being the "first game" in the timeline. To summarize my theory, after the events of Tales of Eternia, Celestia and Inferia were separated as per the game's ending, and over time, the two worlds drifted further apart over time, with each world forgetting the existence of the other over time. Celestia would then become Derris-Kharlan and then Fodra over time, while Inferia became Aselia, and in turn, the current world of Tales of Xillia and Tales of Zestiria (at least in terms of this story); other worlds were also created as a result of Nereid's sealing over time (worlds such as Tales of Abyss's Auldrant and Tales of Arise's Dahna and Rena).

However, the sealing of Nereid resulted in the deaths of all Great Spirits, with only Maxwell, Origin, and Sekundes (who would later change his name to 'Chronos') surviving; other spirits would eventually mature and become the new incarnations of the Great Spirits. The seraphim of Glenwood were once candidates to become Great Spirits, but after the a previous era came to an end (this era being the one prior to the events of Tales of Xillia, Tales of Berseria, Tales of Zestiria, and Tales of Graces), they became disgusted by Maxwell's actions and opted to live amongst the humans instead. However, as time went on, Innominat would eventually understand Maxwell's reasoning with time, and thus, enact his own version of ending eras in Desolation during periods humans had become too corrupted by malevolence.

Also, I'm aware that the official Tales of Berseria / Tales of Zestiria timeline's first recorded period occurred "tens of thousands of years ago" and that the current era for Tales of Xillia is listed as being approximately 4,300 years old (at least according to Elympios' calendar [a spreadsheet can be found at the (slash)timeline]; it's about 2,300 years old according to Rieze Maxia's calendar [note that I will be referring to this spreadsheet hereon forward] [also a spreadsheet of Tales of Berseria's timeline can be found on the Taleslations tumblr page, I'll be referring to this spreadsheet as well]).

At first this might appear to be discrepancy between the two games' timelines; however, I think there may have been thousands of years of lost history for the Elympios/Rieze Maxia timeline that may have not been recorded. If we look at the Tales of Xillia timeline, there are periods of events that occur that do not list a year whatsoever (such as "The Birth of the World", "Development of Spirit Artes", etc.); it can be safe to assume that this is where some of the "lost history" may have occurred, a period of time that occurred concurrently with the beginning of the timeline found in Tales of Berseria / Tales of Zestiria. However, we can also safely assume that the "Maxwell's Warning" event (which is when he becomes acquainted with Milla Kresnik) occurred sometime in the "close" as the first recorded year for Elympios' calendar is 2011, which is listed as the "Birth of Rieze Maxia" event. As to why Elympios only kept a timeline from 2011 going forward, I'd just like to think that the original game's developers didn't have anything significant to note that was important to the actual lore of Tales of Xillia at the time.

To summarize, perhaps there were thousands of years of unrecorded history that occurred in the "Unknown" years of the Tales of Xillia timeline; this period of time may have run between the "Era of the Gods" and "Era of Asgard" periods in the Tales of Berseria timeline. To further go along with this theory, the events of Tales of Berseria occurred between the "Rise of the United States of Rashugal" and "Reign of the Seven Sons" events in the Tales of Xillia timeline; the events of Tales of Zestiria occurred between the "Era of Conflicts" and "Howe's Egg Principle" events in the Tales of Xillia timeline.

Anyway, I think I've gone on enough with my explanation for now, sorry for the long rant.

Next time, on End of an Era: With the party weakened from their previous battle, the original guardian of their world stands before Milla and her comrades as they teeter at the edge of this era. Unable to fend themselves against her relentless assault, Elize knows that their only hope to win this battle is if she can finally come to terms with how she truly feels about her former childhood friend. Yet even if she is able to be honest and true, will it be enough to save the world? Sacrifices are made, the truth comes to light, and the end has come in the next exciting chapter of End of an Era!