There was once a woman who fell from her glory.
A woman in the middle of a long journey fraught with agony and despair.
A woman who was the embodint of hope and light... was ironically trapped in the guillotine of despair called fate.
She was cursed.
For she was immortal.
Others might call it a blessing, but the woman who knew the reason behind it walked a path of thorns others didn’t know.
Because until now, she could still hear that ’being’s’ malevolent voice.
Yes.
The woman who was thought holy by others kept a dark secret.
Inside her body, sealed away, existed an ominous dark being that could destroy the world.
’...’
The woman would clutch her chest in pain whenever that *being* threatened to erge.
And every ti it did, it felt like her soul was being torn apart piece by piece.
But the woman had to hold it together.
She could still hold it.
At least, that’s what she thought.
’How futile.’
The being mocked her as she herself could feel that the seal was weakening, her soul slowly fracturing under the pressure.
’Ah...’
The woman’s thoughts drifted as mories flashed through her consciousness.
If only ’he’ was here...
That hint of hope was poison because she knew that ’he’ would never co back.
’But...’
The woman looked at the broken statue of a forgotten goddess as she tried to smile.
For she believed in the ’prophecy’.
That her ’savior’ would co.
"..."
On a lonely night, tears fell from her face because the woman clearly knew the truth.
The prophecy she clung to was sothing her own mind had created in order to escape her ill-fate.
And the broken statue of the goddess she believed in had long lost its power.
She was fated to die, and her death would release a ’Catastrophe’ that would result in the deaths of many, if not all.
Despite her efforts of sealing herself, she knew deep down.
That the ’prophecy’... or rather, the blind belief of her own savior coming to save her from suffering and preventing the deaths of many...
An irresponsible wish of letting others take her burden would not co true.
That is, until the woman actually t ’him’.
That being she kept blindly believing would co but didn’t expect to arrive in front of her in a bizarre way.
Her savior.
***
’I hath thought I was drowned in despairity.’
At first, Celis thought that the man who introduced himself as Nero was truly her salvation.
Her Savior.
She saw him as soone who was finally the key to what could end the malevolent being inside of her and save everyone.
But that was just it.
Her goal was to get close to him with the intention of ending her suffering in this long journey of hers that should’ve ended ages ago.
She was seeking her own salvation, especially for the lives of many, even if it ant her own death.
That was her salvation, and the man in front of her was the key to that.
Nothing more, nothing less.
A ans to an end, however cruel that sounded.
She had prepared herself for this role countless tis before.
The gentle smile, the mysterious deanor, the carefully crafted words that drew people closer while keeping them at arm’s length.
It was a dance she had perfected over lifetis.
Approach with kindness, offer just enough warmth to build trust, then guide them toward the inevitable conclusion where her cursed existence would finally end.
She had done it before with others who showed potential.
Warriors who rose to prominence with legendary strength.
Mages who commanded elents with terrifying precision.
Even other heroes who carried the weight of prophecy of their own worlds on their shoulders throughout the ages.
None of them had been strong enough.
None of them had carried the weight needed to truly end what festered inside her.
So had tried.
She rembered their faces, their determination, the way their expressions shifted from confidence to horror when they realized the true scope of what lived within her.
Most had fled.
A few had attempted to so her further, only to fail spectacularly.
One had even tried to kill her outright, and she had watched with sad resignation as the being inside laughed and consud his attack entirely.
That hero had died screaming.
She carried the mory like a scar.
But Nero Walker felt different from the start.
His whole being seems to be an anomaly in itself.
She could tell...
He was the one.
She was certain.
The power radiating from him, subtle but undeniable, suggested capabilities that went beyond normal limitations.
And so the plan was simple.
Get close, earn his trust, and when the ti ca, ask him to do what needed to be done.
Guide him to the point where he could strike true, where his strength would be enough to end both her and the catastrophe sealed within.
It would hurt him, yes.
The guilt would linger.
But better one person carrying that burden than the entire world burning.
She had made peace with that decision centuries ago.
’But I was wrong.’
The man... Nero Walker.
In the short ti they had spent together, she could see the image of *him* from Nero Walker.
Although their deanor was entirely different, she could feel the semblance.
Was it really coincidence or maybe fate perhaps?
Either way, she could see the semblance of him, the *First Hero*, from her Savior.
The sa determination in his eyes when facing impossible odds, that stubborn refusal to accept defeat even when logic scread otherwise.
The sa protective instinct that flared whenever those under his care were threatened, turning casual deanor into cold focus.
The sa warmth that radiated from him despite the darkness of the world they lived in, an inexplicable light that refused to be extinguished.
The sa tendency to shoulder burdens alone, hiding pain behind smiles and jokes.
’Yet... he art not him.’
But even so, she knew that the man in front of her was not him.
Nero laughed louder, joked more freely, carried himself with a casual confidence that bordered on shalessness.
The First Hero had been noble, dignified, weighed down by the burden of his role as humanity’s champion.
Every word asured, every action calculated, every smile tinged with the lancholy of soone who knew his path ended in sacrifice.
Nero seed to treat his responsibilities with equal seriousness but without letting them crush his spirit entirely.
He joked about serious situations, flirted shalessly, and sohow made the apocalypse feel less suffocating through sheer force of personality.
It was refreshing in a way that frightened her.
Because it made forgetting the plan dangerously easy.
The distance she needed to maintain kept shrinking every ti they spoke.
The emotional walls she had reinforced over centuries developed cracks she couldn’t quite repair.
And so she tried to keep her own emotions at a distance.
She maintained the mysterious persona... to create a barrier between them, smiled gently without letting true feelings show through.
She kept conversations pleasant but vague, offered help but never asked for anything in return.
The perfect image of a benevolent, enigmatic figure with unclear motives.
’Tried’ is the keyword.
Because as ti passed by, she actually grew to like him.
Not as a tool.
Not as salvation.
But as a person.
’Tis strange...’
The way he spoke so casually, treating her not as so divine figure but as a person.
No reverence in his tone when addressing her, no careful dancing around potential offense.
Just direct conversation, teasing comnts, genuine questions about her thoughts and feelings.
No worship, no fear, no distant admiration.
Just... normalcy.
Like she was soone worth knowing instead of soone to be used or feared or placed on an untouchable pedestal.
The way he smiled without guarding his expression, so open and genuine it made her chest ache with sothing she couldn’t quite na.
His grin carried no hidden agenda, no political calculation, no mask of propriety.
Just pure unfiltered emotion that she had forgotten people could express so freely.
Every laugh reached his eyes, every smirk held actual amusent, every soft smile carried real affection.
It was honest in a way that disard her completely.
The way he looked at her sotis, like she mattered beyond whatever power or mystery she carried.
Those monts when his dark eyes would soften slightly, studying her face with curiosity mixed with sothing warr that made her heart skip unexpectedly.
Not analyzing her capabilities or calculating her usefulness.
Just... seeing her.
The person beneath the titles and the curse and the centuries of carefully maintained distance.
The way he gave without expecting anything in return, offering kindness with the sa casual ease he offered jokes.
The casual gifts that showed he paid attention to small details she ntioned.
The consideration for her comfort without making it seem like an obligation or transaction.
The way he’d check on her wellbeing with genuine concern, not because duty demanded it but because he actually cared.
It was a generosity of spirit she hadn’t encountered in so long it felt almost foreign.
The way he made her laugh with his ridiculous antics despite everything weighing on her soul.
His terrible jokes that shouldn’t be funny but sohow were.
His shaless declarations about his intentions with his "waifus" that made her cover her mouth to hide genuine amusent.
His completely unserious approach to situations that should demand gravity, turning tense monts into sothing bearable.
And sohow, it all worked to lift the crushing weight she carried, even if just for fleeting monts.
She found herself looking forward to their conversations with an eagerness that alard her.
Found herself smiling genuinely instead of wearing the carefully crafted mask she’d perfected over lifetis.
Found herself thinking about him during quiet monts when she should have been focused on her mission, on the seal, on the approaching end.
Instead, her thoughts drifted to the way he’d waved goodnight the previous evening.
The way his eyes lit up when explaining so detail about his system.
The way his voice softened when he was being sincere beneath the jokes.
’When didst this happen...?’
The shift had been gradual, insidious in its subtlety.
One day she was maintaining professional distance as planned, and the next she was catching herself staring at his profile during shared als.
One mont she was carefully crafting responses to guide the relationship toward her goals, and the next she was responding honestly without thinking, letting real thoughts slip through.
The walls she had built so carefully over centuries, reinforced through countless encounters and bitter lessons, were crumbling faster than she could repair them.
And she wasn’t sure she wanted to repair them anymore.
That realization terrified her more than the being sealed inside.
And in the end, she knew with crystalline certainty that couldn’t be denied.
A budding feeling was growing inside her, tender and fragile and completely inappropriate given her circumstances.
Affection that went beyond gratitude or strategic manipulation or even the nostalgia of seeing echoes of the First Hero.
Sothing real and terrifying and completely unwelco given what she was, what she carried, what she would inevitably beco.
A wry smile ca to her lips as she tended flowers in the garden one afternoon.
’How cruel fate art...’
To finally feel sothing genuine after centuries of emptiness, only to know it was dood from the start.
But fate played with them, as it always did.
She was cursed, and with her carried a being that could destroy the world.
If she were to truly commit and be honest about these growing feelings, they would only experience pain.
The being inside her would sense the emotional weakness and exploit it viciously.
Nero would try to save her because that’s who he was, and in doing so, likely trigger the very catastrophe she was trying to prevent.
Or worse, he would succeed in killing her as planned, but the attachnt would haunt him forever.
She had seen it happen before with the First Hero.
The guilt that consud him after ending her previous vessel.
The grief that carved hollows in his eyes even as he smiled for his companions.
The way it broke sothing fundantal inside him that never quite healed.
She had watched from beyond as his light dimd, slowly, inexorably, until he could barely recognize himself.
She would not do that to Nero.
Could not bear to see that sa light in him extinguished by her burden.
And so, she would rather finish what she started and co across as a mysterious woman with a suspicious motive of seducing him.
Let him think she was manipulating him for unclear reasons, playing so long ga he couldn’t quite figure out.
Let him maintain emotional distance through healthy suspicion and wariness.
It was kinder that way, even if it hurt to maintain the charade.
Safer for his heart, safer for his future.
The loneliness was a familiar companion anyway, an old friend that had walked beside her for so long.
Days ca and went with increasing speed.
In very little ti, she found the man in front of her... cute at the sa ti quite precious?
The duality confused her at first, but both feelings rang true simultaneously.
’Twas a feeling I hath not felt in eons...’
Her savior gave her a gift.
The necklace with its protective properties, offered with casual sincerity like it wasn’t an SSR-tier relic worth fortunes.
She felt genuinely happy.
For the first ti in longer than she could rember, her genuine emotion ca to her face without any mask or pretense or calculated performance.
The smile that broke through was real, unguarded, and she saw his expression shift in response.
That mont of connection, brief as it was, felt more valuable than centuries of careful planning and strategic maneuvering.
’Perhaps... just this once...’
Maybe she could allow herself this small happiness before the end.
Maybe she could let him see glimpses of who she really was beneath the mysterious persona and archaic speech.
Maybe in the little ti she had left, she could experience genuine companionship one last ti instead of dying alone with secrets.
The thought was selfish, irresponsible even.
But she was tired of being strong, tired of being alone, tired of carrying everything by herself.
But as the days neared, she could feel her soul getting weaker with alarming speed.
The seal was deteriorating faster now, accelerating beyond her initial calculations.
Each morning she woke with the ache deeper in her core, spreading through her spiritual channels like cracks spreading through glass under pressure.
The pain ca more frequently, lasted longer, required more effort to conceal.
Not good.
Nobody needs to notice for now, especially not him.
And so, often she would spend her ti in an environnt with lots of life energy.
A garden to tend to, where flowers blood and vitality flowed naturally.
The flowers and plants helped stabilize the fractures temporarily, their natural vitality providing a buffer against the darkness trying to consu her from within.
It was a temporary asure, buying ti she didn’t really have.
Until...
***
"Haaahhh... haaahhh..."
She clutched her chest.
A searing pain ca to her soul that made the woman bite her lips hard enough to draw blood.
The ti was nearing, and it seed it would co sooner than she thought.
But then a high-pitched voice disrupted her concentration.
"... Ms. Celis?"
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