Once, there was a battlefield.

It was the greatest one there ever was – in a place hidden from mortal views - where the blood of the greatest and the most powerful beings in the world was shed.

Signs of destructions were everywhere. A charred mountain stood, along with a river of magma and a frozen valley. Phenomenons later would be known as black holes stood by the hundred, slowly eating the world at a magnificently slower pace than they ought to. At the top of everything, instead of a sky, electrical spheres of unknown forms covered the world.

Within this dreaded place, four corpses exist. The only ones alive were a girl with raven, black wings and a man... no, a Being that took up the form of a man. No mere man had ichors of gold and gave off a presence such as He.

The girl thought, she was not supposed to be here.

She was not supposed to be born with pure white wings behind her back. She was not supposed to walk among pure white marbles of Heaven. She was not supposed to be look into His eyes and be chosen as one of His favored child. She was not supposed to feel her wings darkened as she deliberately rejected her chosen purpose. She was not supposed to be flinging spears of light and watched it skewer a man. She was not supposed to participate in the greatest war in existence.

Most of all, she was not supposed to be watching Him dying, and yet, somehow she was.

All these were the honest thoughts of a certain girl.

Oblivious to these thoughts – or maybe because He knew precisely what she was thinking – He had greeted her with a smile, as if His dying body, the gaping wounds at His chest and the slowly receding light of His life was nothing but an inconvenience.

And the girl spoke, "I'm not supposed to be here."

"Oh?" the man answered, patiently, curiously, "Why is that?"

"You know exactly what I mean." the girl huffed, some of her siblings would have called it disrespectful, but this was the way she always was whenever she talked to Him, "This isn't my world, and her existence was not mine. I've told you this before."

"And?" the man asked, patiently, curiously.

The girl sighed, feeling intensely awkward at the knowing smile he'd keep shooting her with.

"She'd never gotten this far. Not her, not the real...me. She-I, I'm not supposed to be here."

"Yet, look at what you've done," the man shook his head, this was an old argument repeated all over again. "I'm quite proud of this alternate dimension I made, you know. It was supposed to be an isolation barrier to let me deal with the Four personally. Do tell, how did you slip in?"

"Believe it or not, it was an accident." She lied.

The man laughed at that. A clear, melodic laugh that soothed and confused her at the same time.

"Then you are wrong, Child." the man smiled, "I do not believe in accidents. Fate, on the other hand, was something I'm quite familiar with."

He clearly knew she was lying. Everything made by His hands were not the kind that could be so easily subverted by mere accidents, no matter how bizarre. If it really was, then the laws of physics wold have been jumbled around thousands of years ago.

Even though He knew, He also did not point out her lies. Instead, He just plastered His usual smile and gave out His usual pearls of wisdom. He did not ask her why. He already knew why she did it. He also knew the girl was always a troublemaker who'd always managed to prank and vandalized all of Heaven. Usually involving creative uses of magic. Oh, how He'd really missed those days. Still, who'd have thought she would have end up having a knack on cracking the system's He had made?

"Does that mean this was all part of your plan, then?"

"Not all of it." The man answered simply. "You being here was unexpected. Though not an unwelcome one."

"Really? Considering how much of a brat I was, I don't think I'm really fit to witness your end."

The implication that He planned His own death was not missed by the girl. She ignored it though; she'd always known He'd meet His end in this particular time, in this particular world, and this particular universe.

"On the contrary, I think you're a perfect witness for my end." His smile turned somewhat mischievous. "Your previous life. You were an advocate, yes?"

The girl blinked. "Advocate? The hell's an advocate? I used to be a lawyer way back then, not an..." An incredulous look of confusion entered her face before realization sets in, and then she groaned and looked at the man.

"Your last will?"

He chuckled at her long-suffering look, "Such as it was."

"Damn it." the girl massaged her head, "This is going to be a pain in the ass, I can tell."

"It will be a terrible burden, yes." He nodded, rather sadly this time. "Much heavier than I would ask any Child of mine, perhaps. If you so choose, I could refrain from passing this to you."

The smile had faded from the man, replacing it with a look of determination that no mere Man could ever hope to replicate. It was also a sign of His concern towards this girl whom Fate had thrown into His lap as one of His Children. He was about to place a burden to this lost and fallen girl that He had never given to anyone before in His long, long period of existence.

As if in response to that determination, a heavy presence suddenly looms in the air. It felt as if the entire World had stopped turning and that Time no longer holds any meaning. Such a thing could even be felt outside of this artificial dimension where all participants of the war suddenly ceased fighting. It showed just how significant that His final request would be on the girl. A true testament to the power that this dying being bearing the looks of a man could wield.

Against all that, the girl shrugged nonchalantly.

"Eh, whatever." She waved off his concern and the rolling power she'd felt with a single careless and challenging smile, "What's life without a little risk, anyway?"

For the first time, the man blinked in surprised, and then showed her a dazzling smile.

"That, Raynare, is more reassuring than you know."

A single tear dropped from the eyes of the girl, yet she still smiled. It was a sign of her gratitude and her farewell.

After all, it's best to send off a dying loved one with a smile.

"Empty platitudes were never my style, Father."