A lonely, desolate night under the vast, boundless sky.
Faint stars flickered intermittently amidst heavy, brooding clouds.
Inside the room, shadows danced under the flickering warm light.
A child and a young man sat facing each other.
The lamplight softened the young man’s brows and eyes, making him look exceptionally gentle.
“Dalang, come, drink your medicine~”
“…”: Little Otto looked at the smiling Lucien, then at the medicinal soup shoved right in front of his face.
The liquid in the porcelain bowl was crystal clear, glowing with a brilliant golden light, and atop it floated a flower of the same color.
The flower was indescribably elegant and holy.
Whether the medicine was good or not remained unknown, but the expression on Lucien’s face while holding it was definitely not a good one.
It left little Otto feeling as if this were a bowl of…
heartbreaking poison soup?
Even so, throwing caution to the wind, he took the bowl, drank it all in one gulp, and showed the empty bowl containing only the flower to Lucien.
“Good, good, good,” Lucien nodded with satisfaction, picking up the flower petals one by one and feeding them into little Otto’s mouth.
“This is good stuff too, don’t waste it.”
Little Otto was forced to gobble down the fine flower like a bull chewing peonies, finishing the whole blossom.
The next second, a sudden change occurred.
Having truly “drunk” the medicine, little Otto suddenly felt heat surging through his entire body—especially, especially between his legs…
Could it be…
that kind of drug?!
Great—no, wait…
Terrible!
“What on earth is this?” His small face flushed bright red as he asked bashfully.
To this, Lucien merely smiled.
“This is a magical soup.
After taking it for a few courses of treatment—it can make you stand up.”
Mischievously prolonging his voice, he successfully piqued little Otto’s curiosity before uttering words that sounded like a fantasy in the calmest manner possible.
As the words fell, little Otto froze for a full second, his body tensing up before shuddering violently.
The force was so strong that even the sturdy wheelchair beneath him shook.
“Stand up!!???”
Whether he could stand up after drinking the soup was unknown, but at that moment, he almost genuinely jumped up in shock.
“…” Holding onto little Otto’s wheelchair, Lucien opened his mouth, unsure of what to say.
[Truth be told, you didn’t expect Otto to be so thrilled.]
[Then again, your legs are completely fine, so naturally you didn’t understand a mobility-impaired person’s longing and pursuit of standing firmly on the ground.]
[The young future Bishop had endlessly fantasized about the wonderful scene of being able to stand.]
[Just as he had secretly fantasized about someone loving him and holding him in an embrace.]
[He knew he was ridiculous, and he knew he was pathetic, yet he never imagined that these ethereal, intangible fantasies could actually become reality.]
[Perhaps—no, he was certain that after living in this world for years, only today had he truly become a living, breathing human being.]
[ Otto Apocalypse died.
]
[ Otto Apocalypse was born.
]
[ He curled up in your arms and cried his heart out.
]
[ Later on, the Immaculate Bishop walked a long and distant road on his own legs, and countless times, he would recall the scene before him.
] Enjoying the story? Read on at g.com.
[ He never felt any shame.
]
[ Because someone had shown him with practical actions that tears shed for love would only ever be his strength.
]
” Not just your legs, your constitution isn’t too good either.
When the time comes, I’ll condition you back bit by bit, and strive to turn you into a double-door refrigerator.
”
” Hiss…
double-door…
refrigerator?
”
” It means being covered in muscle, with pectoral muscles on one side as big as the entire you…
”
” No way!
”
“?
”
Lucien looked at little Otto in his arms, who was exceptionally resistant to muscles, tilted his head, and then felt somewhat relieved.
He hadn’t liked muscles back when he was a foolish boy either, believing that being as thin as a bamboo pole looked good.
When little Otto grew a bit older, perhaps he would start liking muscles.
Thinking this, Lucien smiled.
The dim yellow light illuminated his smile and masked the trace of exhaustion that was already deeply buried within.
[ What cured Otto was not that bowl of medicinal soup, but the power of the mimetic Black Abyss White Flower represented behind it.
]
[ As the Divine Key of Creation among the many Divine Keys, it possesses both the properties of creation and decay.
]
[ Void Archives’s ability is amazing, isn’t it?
]
[ Well, Void Archives’s ability isn’t that amazing after all.
]
[ The mimetically created Black Abyss White Flower can heal others, but it can probably only treat some superficial wounds.
]
[ Let alone making someone with inconvenient legs stand up again—a task with a difficulty roughly comparable to resurrecting someone on the verge of death.
]
[ What’s amazing is your ability as the “Void Archives”.
]
[ As long as you add just a little bit of your own existence while using the mimetic Divine Key, the power it blooms will be no different from a normal Divine Key.
]
[ Seizing the body of Void Archives, amazing isn’t it?
]
[ As for your existence, it’s also very easy to understand; all existing things will experience the erosion of time, and even you, as the Void Archives, cannot avoid this wear and tear.
[ But the time you can exist is simply too long, so long that from a human perspective it is almost indistinguishable from immortality.
]
[ And at the moment you decided to cut off a part of your own existence and transform it into the white flower to help Otto, the clock hands turned, and a countdown belonging solely to you appeared.
]
[ It is still a span of time too long for ordinary humans to imagine, but it ultimately has an end.
]
[ However, you don’t care.
]
[ Looking at Otto, who couldn’t help shedding tears of joy in your arms, you felt that your decision was incomparably correct.
]
[ Such a sigh in your life is unprecedented; whether it is a mistake or not worthwhile, you will carry this “mistake” through to the end without complaints or regrets.
]
[ A distant snow-covered wall is built in your heart’s core, and you already have “resolve”.
]
[…
]
[ Otto’s legs were truly cured.
As soon as he could stand, he and Kallen would run wildly chasing airplanes, jumping around every day, completely losing that preachy little-adult look from before.
]
[ You were happy to watch the two of them running wild.
]
[ As for whether Otto would be targeted by people with ulterior motives, you didn’t worry, nor did you need to worry.
]
[ After all, he was the bishop’s son; even if he lost that identity, weren’t you still here?
]
[ The mimetic fenghuang down that “someone” who might not appear in later generations ate from childhood to adulthood is unusually useful.
]
[ A very good Divine Key, love from the Divine Land.
]
[ Just like that, running and watching, Otto and Kallen grew up before you knew it.
]
[ The young child grew into a youth, and the girl blossomed into a young maiden.
]
[ And you remained just as you had always been, unchanged.
]
[ You knew that perhaps one day Otto would grow as tall as you, and Kallen wouldn’t always have to look up at you anymore.
]
[ By then, you probably wouldn’t be able to call yourself their elder anymore.
]
[ What a fact, so regretful it makes one want to cry, yet so heartwarming it brings an involuntary smile to one’s face.
]
[ Time that was ordinary and rippleless, yet unexpectedly made one want to linger, passed by repeatedly, until…
]
1466, church.
Fourteen-year-old Otto looked at Kallen, who was a year younger than him, kneeling beside her father’s coffin and weeping bitterly, momentarily speechless.