The light within the carriage faded, barely visible through the curtains. It wasn't completely dark outside, thanks to the bonfire several feet away that had been kindled hours ago. Milla the vilecross was sleeping around the corner of the carriage, curled up; a large ball of red fur that invited anyone to lie down beside her, despite her mouth open, spewing hot saliva and a formidable smell of raw meat.

But Tristessa felt strangely alone, despite the vilecross's presence and the fact that there was only a mahogany-like wooden wall separating her from her companions and her aracross.

Silent, and with that feeling of seclusion that left a bad taste in her mouth, she walked to the perimeter of the bonfire. The animal Astoria had referred to was small and scaly, similar to a land iguana, only with claws and teeth worthy of a predator. It was roasting on a smooth stone, near the flames of the fire; split in two, its entrails discarded, its interior cooking rapidly.

"I wonder if it'll taste better than smoked legiana meat," she thought, crouching in front of the small makeshift stove. The strong heat of the fire could be felt with a certain sparkling enthusiasm, thanks to new logs, courtesy of Astoria. With her hunting knife, it took her a long time to separate chunks of meat from the creature's bony chest. "It'd have been easier to boil it and make a soup. Next time I'll suggest that!"

She brought modest pieces to her mouth, realizing how hungry she was.

"Wow, it's like chicken, but tastier!"

Eating alone, the stars of the Cosmos and the two moons her companions that night of End-World, Tristessa looked toward the Hexel Valley. The terrain rose in a sharp slope on the sides where the Maturin River flowed, guided by that kilometer-long corridor shrouded by the shadows of the night. Further northeast, the Burnt Fort Hexel was a charred sentry high atop the gentle slope of the land, now devoid of any inhabitants.

The wind blew with peace, not a single cloud in the sky obscuring the view of the shower of galactic lights and the sheer blackness between them. An atmosphere of tranquility that Tristessa found shocking. Unreal, like a dream from which she believed she would wake up at any moment, just as she had told the two warriors minutes before.

"To wake up in a nightmare…" she thought, feeling the fire of the campfire and at the same time a very cold feeling. Stemming from the emotions that floated to the surface of her spirit from its dark and abandoned depths. "I still can't believe it…"

It was hard to accept reality now that her mind wasn't driven by adrenaline and newfound courage, which clashed directly with the natural fear of Death. She had grown accustomed to the horror; not to experiencing it, but to its frequency. The presence of the Dullahan, a constant every night. Escaping, hiding, letting others die so she could save herself.

The weight of those sins lingered, regardless of the timeline Tristessa found herself in. It was maddening to think that the world had been reset seven times, and all the Death, despair, and suffering she witnessed before falling victim to them herself had vanished without a trace.

Only remaining in the form of scars inflicted on her soul. Wounds that would never heal.

"…"

Crestfallen, Tristessa looked up and realized she could count with the fingers of one hand all the times she had stopped to appreciate the Nekromian night sky. Such fingers that wouldn't stop shaking; no matter how many times she clenched her fists, nothing would calm them.

"Beautiful… I think since I arrived on Nekrom, this is the first time I've felt light years away from home." Saying those words inside her head felt like one of the Ashen Soldiers' spears had pierced her stomach. Although she remembered nothing but her room, it was enough to make Tristessa feel a crushing nostalgia. Possibly fueled in her subconscious by everything she'd lost and couldn't remember. "And it's the first time I feel like something's going right in my damn life..."

Fine tears had begun to flow down her face. Hot drops that surpassed the tolerance threshold she could bear in the face of those wild, merciless emotions that twisted her heart like rotten fruit dripping dark pulp and liquid with an unbearable stench. Noxious fluid falling into a glass cup that had already overflowed and shattered into millions of shards. Free, to scatter everywhere and taint everything with its poison.

Free, like Tristessa at that very moment, crying without fear of being heard. Free from the terror of the Dullahan. Free from the darkness that she felt ice-biting her soul at nightfall.

"Is it real? Am I dreaming? Do I deserve to feel this liberated?" she wondered, alternating sobs with sighs that sought to release that purely psychological pain. "Jin, Lucahn, Tiara! I'm sorry... I'm so pathetic! Please, please be okay! I don't want to celebrate the victory over the Dullahan while you're still in danger! Please... Madame Luchie, Reiden, all of you... Please be safe."

Tristessa prayed. To humans or gods, to anyone, to keep at bay the dangers that sought to destroy that family and the mercenaries by association.

Two dangers that had the potential to reverse all the progress made so far.

First, the Coven. With Daiana Mercer-Archeos and the mysterious and prophetic Moebius at its head. Seeking to kill Jin and Tiara, and kidnap Lucahn and the unborn child. For reasons only the Lord of Forbidden Knowledge knew; and Daiana, in her unrelenting madness, was willing to fulfill her master's wishes no matter the cost.

Then, Aurelia Eramisaptor and her iron-clad justice. Enemy of Strangers and anyone who shows sympathy for them. Unyielding, it was going to be difficult to convince her to grant mercy to the Mercer-Archeos, using the pen as a sword and the word as a shield. No, there was only one way to subdue that woman, Tiara had already warned Tristessa about that in a previous loop…

These threats worsened the guilty torment that overwhelmed Tristessa. To the point where she covered her eyes with one hand, her gaze downcast in shame, still trembling with tears. Further magnifying the achievement accomplished that very night.

The joy of success against the Dullahan suffocated her, squeezing her chest with disgust, the pain of the responsibility on her shoulders… And without the supernatural cold.

Without that soul-chilling frostbite to which Tristessa had grown accustomed, for better or worse. It no longer existed, and it was cause for alarm.

"Ah?!" Taken by surprise, she quickly unbuttoned the top two buttons of her sweaty shirt. She was left agape when she stared at the skin in the center of her chest and the top of her breasts. Pristine. Free of vascular veins, of the Curse of the Nemesis and any feeling of imminent danger. "M-my mark! The [Baptism in Ruins]...! It's gone!"

Indeed, that symbol that had represented her first return from Death no longer existed. A logical outcome, considering the implicit connection between the Dullahan and the Baptism in Ruins: a mysterious and deadly byproduct of [Death and Resurrection], which came to a critical point by dying and returning so many times, resulting in the conception of the Dullahan; the haunter of the dark, seeking to punish Tristessa through a challenge almost impossible to overcome.

Tristessa still didn't understand the mechanisms behind that Mark of Death, but she cared little now that it was gone. And she would have jumped of joy like a little girl receiving a birthday present, if not for the fact that the absence of the Baptism in Ruins made her realize there was something there, beneath the skin and bones.

Something unknown. Hidden behind the shadow of her heart.

Had the mark on her chest always hindered or enveloped that strange presence? Or was it something new, something born with the Dullahan's defeat?

Tristessa couldn't know for sure, but she had her suspicions. Her face damp with tears, her grimy, dirty nails digging into her uncorrupted skin, she meditated silently. The Nekromian night was her only witness to her inner inquiry.

"What is this...? It doesn't feel wrong, but it's strange. Something supernatural... It feels like a..."

She knew it was impossible. There was no way, after having been interrogated in the most private way possible by an expert like Master Caius. But the option existed in her mind, and it wouldn't go away. That option that gave her chills and excitement in equal measure. That odd, hidden presence within her, behaving like something familiar.

Like a new Divinity.

DIVINITY OF THE DARK ROOM

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BLACK MIRROR – Stats after victory against the Dullahan - Updates in Yellow

TRISTESSA IRANDELL

MAIN STATS

Strength:

3

out of 100

Dexterity:

7

(+3) out of 100

Endurance:

6

out of 100

Vitality:

6

(+2) out of 100

Intelligence:

7

out of 100

Spirit:

10

out of 100

Willpower:

5

(+3) out of 100

Luck:

1

out of 100

SUBSTATS

Hit Points:

25

(+5) out of 10000

Magic Points:

2

out of 5000

Spirit Points:

85

out of 5000

Stamina:

50

out of 5000

Poise:

12

out of 1000

Immunities:

7

out of 500

Physical Resistance:

20

out of 500

Magic Resistance:

15

out of 500

Instant Death Resistance:

3

(+3) out of 500

Terror Resistance:

9

(+3) out of 500

Madness Resistance:

10

out of 500

Karma:

-10

points between [-100 and 100]

PASSIVES

First Echo of Viktor Enma: +3 Dexterity points. Bonus on daggers and knives.

Second Echo of Viktor Enma: +2 Vitality points. Bonus on HP.

Third Echo of Viktor Enma: +3 Willpower points. Bonus on Spirit Points, Terror Resistance and Instant Death Resistance.

Fourth Echo of Viktor Enma: +3 Terror Resistance and Madness Resistance.

Curse of the Nemesis (Dullahan): -1 on every main stat and -5 for every substat for each confrontation against the Dullahan. Cumulative.

JOBS

Necromancer –

Practitioner of the dark arts, capable of bringing the dead back to life and force them to do their bidding

.

Level 4

– Skills and passives defined by effectiveness of the [Divinity of Accursed Existence] and [Divinity of Whispers in the Dark]

She-Dragoon -

Warrior capable of fighting as a cavalryman or as infantry on foot. High mobility and effective in flanking and surprising enemy forces.

Level 1 - Skill: Aracross Riding

EQUIPMENT

Casual Shirt: No damage negation bonuses

Casual Trench Coat: No damage negation bonuses

Casual Trousers: No damage negation bonuses

Casual Boots: No damage negation bonuses

Hunting Knife: +D physical damage bonus from Dexterity scaling

Hunting Knife - Stats

-

Damage

Defense

Physical

10(+5)

5

Magic

0

5

Lightning

0

5

Holy

0

0

Unholy

0

0

Critical

5

-

DIVINITIES

Death and Resurrection (Dark Resurrection)

–

Divinity of Death, granted by the God of Chaos, Vel'Moran. Banished from Death, there is no end to the abyss on the horizon.

Dying is a straight line. Resurrecting is a spiral

.

Baptism in Ruins

–

HIDDEN BY UNNATURAL DARKNESS

Gradient of Madness

–

The forbidden truth emanates from the overlapping of multiple realities. No sentient being can endure it. The logical result is madness

. (Grants +9999 points of Madness-status effect to friends and foes alike after consciously learning about the

[Divinity of Death and Resurrection]

)

Accursed Existence

–

Divinity of Life, granted by the Goddess of Order, Xiliarra. Life is a gift, rejoicing in it is an obligation. Even for those who reopen their eyes and beg for oblivion

.

Arising Capacity

: 1

Soul Strain

:

1 SP per second for Fading Souls – 5 SP per second to use a Divinity

5 SP per second for Lesser Souls

Curse of the Evil Eye

–

From the Empyrean of Dead Gods, the Shadow Queen casts her malevolent gaze over Nekrom, wishing for an Age of Eternal Darkness where everything bends to her relentless will

. (+1 point of Terror-status effect while a returned soul tainted with the malice of the Shadow Queen is active. Incremental in value the mightiest the soul to return.)

Demiurgic Regression

–

Nekronomika created all living beings with the idea that eventually all of them shall return to their primal state of pure essence in the epilogue of the everything. She knew that the reverse process was possible, but such a void existence was something She did not desire for her children.

(Recompose the body of a deceased in order to make it an acceptable receptacle for its broken soul.) – 10 SP per second + normal values of Soul Strain.

Whispers in the Dark

–

Divinity of Power, granted by the God of Balance, Kantrus. It is believed that the dead tell no tales. The reality is that it is a matter of who is willing to listen

.

Harvested Echoes

: 3

Spiritual Resonance

–

A premonition of the other side, a message sent with the serenity of the grave. The dead fear oblivion. Show them that they are not forsaken

.

Dark Room

–

Divinity of the Mind, granted by the God of Balance, Kantrus. The mind can always be a darker place than one believes. Its corridors can be endless, a labyrinth capable of swallowing its owner alive, and no one will hear their screams.

Room of Knowledge

Room of Phantom Remembrances

Negative Altar

Projector Room

Assistant's Offce

Black Mirror

HIDDEN BY UNNAURAL DARKNESS

Unknown Divinity

–

HIDDEN BY UNNAURAL DARKNESS

TITLE – Lost

"Still weak and fragile, chasing an inexistent speck of light within the infinite dark. Your allies see you as a tool, ready to discard you after use. Your enemies mock you at your attempts at survival. Even after some small victories, the weight of your failures will bring you down into darkness and despair."

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