Locked in darkness long after the vision ended, I could only stand in the void, unshed tears burning at the corners of my eyes. A scream of frustration swirled from somewhere before fading into silence—a shriek that I had heard back in Turri so long ago, where I almost succumbed to animus overload.

  Then, there was nothing but silence.

  “Ambrose’s hypothesis was partially correct,” Raedine eventually observed from somewhere unseen, her voice soft, almost reluctant. “He was a creation of Euphridia’s design… if not an intentional one.”

  “So what?” I snapped, misdirecting my anger. The words echoed hollowly before fading into the dark. “That doesn’t excuse what she did.”

  If anything, it made it all the worse.

  “His hypothesis was the catalyst for our fallout,” she replied, the regret more evident now. “As an instrument of Euphridia’s Will, and the product of her Church’s doctrine… There was no way I could accept it at the time.”

  With no energy left to console anyone, least of all myself, I remained silent.

  Raedine, however, must have felt the need to fill the expanding quiet. “Her reaction was of an intense fear, suggestive of trauma. And we know of the myriad of myths regarding the demons of Earth. Perhaps we should consider—”

  “I’m not in the mood to be rational!” I shouted, cutting her off. “Regardless of all other factors, she did something completely unacceptable. There’s no way I’m going to allow such a thing to happen again! I—”

  The darkness began to shatter one pane at a time, revealing a glowing digital matrix of runes beneath. The background blurred into a dull grey, and then I found myself standing beside Raela’s crystal once more.

  The soft white light at its center flickered, dimming as the crystal edges began to fray.

  “Raela!”

  Hairline fractures webbed across the crystal’s surface as her body began to glow. Each fissure widened until light consumed her. Without even a sigh, she dissolved into motes of radiant mist, their culmination flooding the garden in a blinding, painful white.

  When the glare finally receded, the garden was no longer whole. Patches of trees, ground, and even sky had vanished, exposing grids of pale, floating runes. The petals drifting through the air now flickered in and out of existence, seeming to jump and relocate in odd, stuttering bursts.

  Even the klaxon’s call had been permanently silenced.

  “Oh no…”

  Several shattered mirrors formed a semicircle, their reflections converging to show me Aina, who was caught in a continuous glitch.

  “Alert. NAUGHT Emergency Protocol active. Override activated. Error. Error. Error.”

  I threw my hands behind my back and interlaced my fingers in a poor attempt to look innocent. “I’m sorry! But I swear I had nothing to do with it!”

  Aina flickered.

  “Error. Error. Error.”

  With a frown, I relaxed and dropped my hands back to my sides. “Are you looping, or is that just a running count of incoming problems?”

  “Automated security measures unavailable. Insufficient system resources to maintain containment protocols. Error. Error. Error.”

  There were multiple things she was trying to contain: the demons inside NAUGHT, the demons beyond the portal, and then there was Nora.

  “Why not let Nora out and reallocate the freed resources to other containment processes?”

  “Error.”

  Of course, it wouldn’t be that easy.

  I sighed. “Then what about—”

  This story is posted elsewhere by the author. Help them out by reading the authentic version.

  “NAUGHT Core stability is p-priority. Error,” she replied, skipping more frequently. “Error. Proceed to c-core access immediately-immediately for m-manual re-stabilization.”

  Aina’s projection fizzled, and the mirrors melted into the ground, forming a small, intricate magic circle with three rings filled with glowing glyphs. The rings spun back and forth like a puzzle being unlocked, and a portal of static and glitches opened in its center.

  “I would prefer it if you could stabilize that a little more. As it stands, uh, sort of, it’s not exactly—”

  “D-delay registered,” Aina snapped, echoing from nowhere. “Error. Proceed immediately.”

  “Yeah, yeah, I heard you!” I took a deep breath, steadied myself, and stepped through.

  The air was cooler here, a bit drier, but it hummed faintly. The chamber I entered was an incomplete fusion of science fiction and fantasy. Most of it gleamed with giant, smoothed metal conduits and floating glyphs that shifted fluidly from one design to another. A smaller section of the chamber, off to one side, appeared to be an office or perhaps a dorm room. Stacks of manga and half-filled sketchbooks lay toppled across a cluttered desk, surrounded by chewed pens, empty ramen cups, and half-eaten snack packs. A calendar from a New York Chinese restaurant hung crookedly on a nearby pegboard, its gold-leaf date long since faded. It featured a stylized dog, its gaze forward-facing.

  I wonder why it’s bearing its teeth?

  Maybe it was meant to be a Foo Dog, a symbol of protection?

  I shivered and turned away, only to have my attention drawn to a floor-to-wall display of collectible figurines.

  So many of them have pink hair…!

  After suppressing the urge to take a few of the rarer ones, I tried calling Aina. “What I’m not seeing is any sort of interactive device, let alone whatever NAUGHT truly is—”

  Runes quivered and scattered as circuits flared, and large panels shot towards the edges of the chamber. The center area was now visible, revealing a giant blue orb of shifting light, its core pulsing like a slow, struggling heartbeat. It rested on a pillar made of cables and computer towers, wrapped in electric-blue coolant tubes.

  “Okay, but where are all the—”

  Dozens of translucent pop-ups started to surround NAUGHT, flickering a dreadful crimson of code, warnings, and unread notifications.

  Someday, I’ll be able to complete my sentences without interruption by plot.

  The pop-ups seemed restless, each trying to push its way to the front.

  “Guys… Gals? Everyone, I will try to address each one of you by priority, okay?!”

  The pop-ups rattled, then shuffled like a deck of cards, the first one flipping around so I could read it.

  [Alert. Anomaly storage threshold at 99% capacity. Recommendation: Initiate Anomaly Clean-Up Protocol immediately.]

  “Oh yes, I remember you from the wastelands,” I said out loud. “Demons aren’t anomalies. But that’s what you’re storing in there.”

  The screen flickered for a moment, but the exact words typed themselves out again, as if trying to reiterate itself.

  Reasoning with it would prove futile. “Give me options on how to clean it up, and I’ll think about it—but don’t you do anything until I confirm it!”

  The screen pulsed once, then reformatted into a list of options:

  [Response options available:]

  ? Purge anomaly data from active storage.

  ? Archive anomaly data to deep void cache (data non-retrievable).

  ? Fragment anomaly data for resource reclamation.

  [Confirm Clean-Up Protocol? Y/N]

  The cursor blinked, waiting.

  I may not be the most technologically savvy person, but I know the illusion of choice when I see it.

  I rubbed my temple. “No. Give me other options.”

  The window flickered, then pulsed a steady red.

  [Clarification: Anomaly data exceeds storage parameters. Containment unstable.]

  “Yeah, but that’s not the demons’ fault, is it? They never even got a final judgment.” I sighed, propping one hand on my hip. “I bet you have some free space somewhere. Find it, and then we’ll reallocate it to anomaly storage… until I can force a certain someone to address them on a case-by-case basis.”

  There was a long pause.

  [Query received. Searching for alternate storage…]

  Lines of data scrolled faster than I could track.

  [Processing… partial result located.]

  [Sector flagged: Auxiliary Environment Partition – Paradise Garden 01.]

  [Status: Inactive. Residual processes maintaining defunct preservation subroutine.]

  Guilt made me hesitate. “That’s where Raela was before…”

  [Affirmative. Residual code detected in environment partition. Physical construct no longer present.]

  “What if she’s not really gone...? What if she—”

  “You are worried you will destroy her core soul. But you must remember that even Euphridia cannot find it. For it to have been there is extremely unlikely,” Raedine explained. “What I believe we witnessed is the physical form’s residue of regret. But even if my hypothesis is incorrect, I feel that she would agree with this choice.”

  With a long, deep sigh, I looked back at the screen. “Alright. Reallocate it. Free the space.”

  [Reallocation confirmed. Sector released. Free space created. Anomaly storage stabilized.]

  The pane faded, along with several others in line, as if they had somehow been connected. Before the next could flip over, however, a large chunk of the chamber wall collapsed. Black, acidic sludge sizzled and smoked, eating at the edges of the hole it created.

  I drew my sword as the aftermath of ashy haze cleared, but there was no need.

  “Oh, thank the Goddess—it’s just you,” I blurted in relief. “It’s about time you showed up!”

  Nora, her hair whipping without any discernible wind, twirled her staff and stepped confidently through the breech. “What do you mean, it's just me?”

  Latest Chapter on Patreon:

  https://thelastraeofhope.miraheze.org/wiki/Main_Page

  Also, feel free to join my