The realm shuddered violently.

Not a gentle tremor but a violent shake, as if it were experiencing something fundamentally incompatible.

As Reinhard kept walking, cracks split across the mirror ground beneath his feet with a sound like bones breaking. The fractures spread in lightning patterns, racing toward the horizon faster than the eye could track.

The floating shards vibrated, and each shard emitted a distinct sound based on its size and orientation, creating a terrifying sound. The notes clashed deliberately before they began to swirl around Reinhard with more appearing.

Reinhard stopped before looking around the shards surrounding him. They moved faster with each rotation, creating a continuous stream of images showing every failure, every evil action, every selfish choice, and every time a person cursed him.

He closed his eyes.

The visual assault continued even through closed lids, images appearing in his mind. But closing eyes allowed focusing inward rather than outward.

Reinhard remembered the first warrior he helped. The warrior had a burned face, broken body, and dim eyes searching for hope that wouldn't come. He remembered the weight of that warrior in his arms, surprisingly light as if curses had hollowed physical form.

He remembered the trembling grip on his hand and the desperate clutch of someone drowning being offered a rope.

He remembered the small, grateful smile when given a makeshift walking stick. How the warrior expression transforms from despair to little sparks of hope. He remembered all the others after, each one pulled another forward once they found strength.

Their actions created a chain reaction of compassion spreading through the crowd that had drowned in curses and sins.

He opened his eyes.

The shards still spun around him.

His past evil actions are still displayed in an endless loop. But their power had diminished somehow, as he knew he wasn't the same person as before.

"I was selfish once, and I am most likely still selfish now." His voice emerged quiet but steady, cutting through discordant notes. "I don't regret it… Doing anything I could to make sure we survived, and not helping others when they wouldn't do the same for us… But I won't lie, I sometimes wish I had taken another way… Another path."

The shards swirled faster, hungry, angry at being diminished. They pressed closer, trying to overwhelm through proximity what they couldn't achieve through content.

"But those actions I did… None of it means I can't change who I am now and who I will be in the future."

The realm growled as a deep grinding tremor rang beneath.

Angra Mainyu's voice pressed against him like a crushing weight.

"Change is an illusion. A weak excuse that others continued telling themselves, but never implemented fully. How many times have you told yourself you would be better? But when it actually comes to doing it, you never do. It's a lie everyone says, but none truly implements, and so the world remains broken."

The words carried absolute certainty born from witnessing billions of humans across an extremely long time. The Source of All Evil had seen every attempt at redemption, every claim of transformation.

But none had succeeded; all eventually reverted to their true nature when another situation appeared.

Reinhard looked up toward where the voice seemed to originate, despite coming from everywhere equally.

"No." The word emerged without hesitation or doubt. "It's a choice, and one that I will continue making until I eventually succeed. So no matter how many times you show me my past, I will simply use that as motivation to keep on trying to change."

Something in the mirror plane cracked.

"So, thank you for reminding me that I have changed from the person I was before. And that I can continue to be better if I keep on trying."

Another crack rang out; this time it was thunderous.

A spiderweb cracks shot across the horizon, and every mirror that displays his past actions shows damage.

And then Reinhard gently touched the mirror and said with a faint smile. "Now do as the past is meant to do, and remain as a learning experience for me."

The first hundred shards shattered midair.

They exploded into smaller fragments, then dust, and then nothing. Hundreds of reflected failures dissipated like dreams upon waking, leaving only an empty void.

Then Reinhard felt warmth behind him before all of the warriors had reappeared behind with a dazed look on their faces. Their eyes blinked rapidly, adjusting to the new area while their bodies swayed, and some of them stumbled.

One warrior stepped forward.

She leaned heavily on the walking stick Reinhard had given her. Her half-charred face showed determination despite obvious exhaustion.

"He changed." She said it simply, stating observed facts. "I saw it. The person in those mirrors you showed us wouldn't have knelt down and picked us up."

Another nodded, golden light flickering with emotion. "He wouldn't have convinced others to work together and helped the useless."

The third warrior placed a hand on Reinhard's shoulder. "Sure, he is using us all to leave, but we are all doing the same. No one is taking advantage of anyone; all of us, regardless of our condition, are working towards the same goal."

The remaining shards flickered, their images weakened, becoming translucent, and then becoming silent.

Angra Mainyu's voice rang out.

"Humans do not change. They repeat the same things, over and over, without fail."

Reinhard faced the unseen presence directly. His light blue eyes stared into a colorless void as if perceiving something beyond the visual spectrum.

"But we do change. And we do that by choosing to not repeat the cycle. I am sure that's something you have seen. Even if the change is a little bit, the fact we change is more than enough, and shows me that we can be better."

The glass pane screamed before shattering completely.

Shards exploded in a storm of glittering memory, and the void trembled. The colorless void rippled like disturbed water.

Waves spread outward from where Reinhard stood, each one carrying a force that disrupted the space around.

Reinhard didn't flinch.

He stepped forward toward the breaking horizon, and each step landed on a fragmented ground that shouldn't support weight.

Each step defied the realm's attempt to consume him.

"Whatever I was before, I am not anymore." Reinhard said softly before the voidless realm shattered.

And everyone finds themselves back in the ash-filled area they were. They blinked before glancing around and then checked to see if everyone was alright.

As this happened, a voice echoed out.

"...How?"

Single question containing genuine confusion.

The Source of All Evil couldn't comprehend what it observed. It had seen many people with higher positions than Reinhard, greater than him, but all of them had fallen apart when shown their pasts, failures, and evil.

So why didn't Reinhard fall apart as well?

Reinhard answered without hesitation. No contemplation needed, no searching for words. The truth was simple enough that complexity would only obscure it.

"By deciding to." Reinhard answered without hesitation.

And it was a simple one, no fancy or deep context behind it.

The realm is still.

Before then, a low grinding whisper seeped into the space. It didn't emerge from a single source but rose from everywhere simultaneously, from the fragmenting ground, from the warriors' feet, from Reinhard's own boots.

"One more truth test..."

The world trembled.

The ash landscape collapsed inward, and each fragment became thousands of particles, all glowing with malevolent light.

The light spread out, forming a new terrain that was designed solely for Reinhard and his words.

The terrain displayed the ground stretching ahead into a narrow bridge of bone. Beneath the bridge churned the flames and lava that surged under with some geyser rising up.

It was like a crimson-black sea was below, occasionally forming shapes of screaming faces before dissolving back into formless horror.

The flames rushed upwards, spreading out like tendrils. Each one stretched toward the bridge before leaving behind trails of corruption where they passed, the area itself showing damage from contact.

And on the far ledge, barely visible through the crimson light, were two small figures clinging desperately to the crumbling edge.

Klein's small fingers strained against stone that offered minimal purchase. His knuckles had gone white from pressure, skin stretched tight over bone. His body dangled over the void, legs kicking uselessly as he fought gravity's pull.

Anna's tiny legs kicked frantically. She'd found a single foothold, but it was crumbling, while her arms wrapped around a larger rock. But her fingers were slipping incrementally with each second.

The crimson fire below painted their faces in crimson red.

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