Silence settled into Reinhard's mind as he realized that Odin was right.

He hadn't felt fear when Mimir explained the plan or when Fenrir's attack blasted a hole through his chest. And even as his life bled out, his consciousness faded.

At first, he'd attributed it to that calm he always experienced in battle. But this was different, as he still had some fear in battle to help warn him of dangerous attacks or one that he should not let touch him.

But currently, he felt no fear.

Even now, as he examined this realization, he felt nothing wrong. No concern about what that might mean or worry that something was fundamentally wrong with him.

But I shouldn't feel this way-

Stop deluding yourself. Odin's voice rang out calmly. You were never a normal person. You've known that since you forced your mother to abandon the three of you and since you set the orphanage on fire even as screams rang out. Stop lying to yourself.

The silhouette of Odin appeared more clearly now.

One eye became visible through the helmet's opening. The crimson-blue light peered down at Reinhard's consciousness as if it were seeing through everything and judging it against standards unknowable.

But I suppose that's the reason for this pitiful journey. Alas, I suppose I'll still have to wait till that day comes. But for now. The tone shifted a bit more seriously. You are close to death. And once it happens, everything you hold dear will be erased.

The words should spark panic, but they didn't. He only felt they were reality and truth, ones that he could easily accept and wouldn't care much about.

I once asked you before. Odin's voice dropped lower, becoming something that resonated in Reinhard's consciousness like a struck bell. What is your desire? What do you seek from my power? And you gave me an answer.

The memory surfaced as Reinhard recalled standing in darkness much like this, facing this same presence, and giving his answer. The Elixir of Life that could cure Klein Dark Tide was the only reason he wanted Odin's power.

Is it the same?

Reinhard's consciousness examined the question from all angles. Was it the same? Did he still want just the Elixir? Just Klein's cure? Was that still the only thing that mattered?

Yes... His thoughts formed slowly, carefully. I still want the Elixir of Life...

But then he paused as more seemed to have surged within him.

But now I want to protect these people who have somehow entered my heart and become my friends. The admission came easier than expected. I don't want a future where they aren't there, where I regret not making more memories and only having memories of them.

A better answer than before, Odin's crimson-blue eye narrowed as the horse snorted. But still lacking.

The crimson-blue eye shone even brighter.

Now then, what type of future do you envision against Fenrir? What type of future do you envision to save your friends from being destroyed by this existence?

I...

Reinhard's thought trailed off as he felt it was impossible.

But then something screamed at him. It wasn't a sound or voice, but something primal that existed beneath conscious thought. One that demanded he look further, to see more, expand his vision, and thoughts beyond what should be possible.

Create a future that should never exist.

His consciousness reached outward, and it began searching for something he couldn't name or define.

An image began forming.

Slowly at first, with just shapes and impressions without detail. But then it gradually became clearer, showing himself not as he should be in reality, where he was powerless and dying.

But as he could be, standing straight with his eyes shining and his sword in his hand.

And beneath him.

No, that's impossible… That shouldn't be possible.

But the image continued forming anyway, as it refused to be dismissed and demanded to be seen.

Reinhard saw himself standing still while beneath him was an absurd and impossible sight.

There below him lay Fenrir, the Phantasm Beast that could erase cities with a thought, lying out defeated. He stood above it with his foot planted on its head as if he were a conqueror in a reality that should never exist.

The image was laughable, a delusion born of desperation.

He was nothing but an ant to be crushed beneath Fenrir's claw, and yet the vision refused to fade.

"I see myself defeating Fenrir."

Then Odin spoke again, and this time, something like satisfaction appeared in his voice. Good. That's how it should be, never cower, even when the enemy seems impossible to overcome. If you can't defeat them straight, then find another way to overcome them.

The crimson-blue eye blazed so bright it consumed everything else.

Now it's time to show you, little ant, what you can become when you reach the end of the road and ascend to the top of the pyramid where the throne awaits.

A pause happened for a second before then.

Now...

Odin spoke words, and Reinhard echoed them.

But even as the sounds formed in his consciousness, they slipped away. He knew he spoke to them, but couldn't recall what they were even as they left him.

Time returned to normal.

Martha's words echo, and Mimir's wings finish their flutter while blood droplets hit the ground with soft spatters.

And Reinhard's eyes ignited, both glowing bright blue while his hair shimmered with a black-blue aura, and the hole in his chest instantly closed.

One moment, there was a massive hole in his chest, and the next moment it was gone as if the wound was just an illusion. His clothing dissolved, the tattered black suit melting into smoke.

In its place, dark jagged armor appeared with its surface etched with glowing blue lines that glowed and interwoven with intricate patterns of gold. It fit him perfectly, as if forged for his body alone, each plate molding to his form with unnatural precision. A helmet rose from his shoulders, piece by piece, before forming its horned design, mirroring Odin's own.

The eye slits cast his face in shadow and hid the bright blue light of his gaze.

Then a black-blue light erupted from him and swept across the platform, washing over everything in its path.

Martha and Mimir were caught in its tide, lifted gently, and carried upward through the massive hole Fenrir had torn in the Mehko Building's core.

The light spread further, outward and upward, consuming the ruins without destruction, a paradox of force and care.

Above the pitch-black flower opened up, and Fenrir rose up while its eyes darted as if sensing something it couldn't yet name. Then it leapt, a blur of motion, reappearing across the city ruins in an instant.

Just as the black-blue light burst through the ground, shattering the pitch-black root and surging upward to pierce the crimson-black sky. For a moment, the crimson-black sky shone with every color before the wound began to mend back together.

Streaks of black-blue light shot from the beam, carrying the figures of Martha, Mimir, Marie, Joseph, Scath, Nikki, and Roana, each enveloped in its glow. They appeared beside Gran and Anasha, who stood wide-eyed and stunned by the spectacle before them.

The beam began to fade, and from its heart emerged a towering figure, equal in size to Fenrir itself.

Reinhard sat atop an eight-legged warhorse, its mane flickering like faint blue flames, its hooves trailing sparks of light. Blue streaked the tops of its legs, gold the bottoms, each step a ripple in the fabric of reality.

Reinhard's armor glowed with glowing blue lines and gold patterns that shifted. His horned helmet masked his face, the eye slits cloaked in shadow, unreadable. A tattered cloak trailed from his shoulders, billowing without wind, its edges fraying into wisps of black-blue energy.

In his right hand was a jagged blade etched with engravings that seemed to pulse and flow, trailing wisps of energy like flames.

Zenuken felt alive and shined with terrifying power

A light blue shine gleamed on the right side of his helmet as Reinhard peered down at Fenrir, who was staring back at him.

While the sky above sealed itself fully, the black roots below continued their slow descent.

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