Ledah's Epilogue -- Inspired by Ayame
This honor, this greatest of privileges. To think that I may finally be redeemed for my sins, that the greatest mantle of all may be placed upon my shoulders. The first Grim Angel in nearly a thousand years. Don't you understand? . . . Emotion. What is the use of it? It was emotion that led to my fall, it is emotion that skews the logical mind, emotion that brings only grief and sorrow and pain. If I should lose it . . . I would never have to suffer through such again. Only a fool would refuse.
And yet a fool I am . . . For why is it that I hesitate? . . .
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He awakens in a shallow pool of his own blood. For a moment, he cannot remember how it is that he has come into such a state. It seems, strangely, as if everything had taken place so very long ago.
But the memories return quickly. His battle against Ein, his defeat at the younger angel's hands, his plea for the deceiver to be cast down. He had asked Ein to finish it. Why hadn't the boy done so? Why? The look in his eyes as he'd gazed down upon his fallen enemy . . . his fallen friend. What had it been? Pity? Sorrow? Compassion? He couldn't know. How long had it been since he had felt any of it, since he had been able to feel anything at all but emptiness? And yet . . . in that moment, within the depths of his own heart, it had almost been as if something had stirred.
He feels it even now, this . . . fluttering. It seems important, somehow, that he grasp hold of it. He cannot imagine why he does so, but for the first time in centuries, Ledah, Grim Angel, arbiter of the gods, reaper of souls, closes his eyes and seeks to hear the whispers of his heart.
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I finally understand now. How empty I am. To better serve Asgard, I became a well-oiled machine. Emotions would only get in the way. This is my sole reason for existence. This is my duty.
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"Stop!"
They rush into the room, weapons drawn, ready to confront the black-winged angel of death before she can destroy their hope. They are too late. The Aquarium lies in pieces before them, and they cannot help but cry out for they know what this portends. She, with a toss of her golden hair, smiles devilishly as she advances.
"So you made it all the way . . . But it was all for nothing."
He bares his teeth in anger, Einherjar held steadily before him. "We're still here. We'll protect her!"
And she laughs, a harsh, hopeless, cruel sound. "Incompetent angel! I'll play with you. Just don't die so easily, or it won't be any fun!"
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Get rid of all of that, then what're you left with? You'd just be a drone. That's so stu -- No, whatever. They're your emotions. Go right ahead and throw them away.
That's got to be the least convincing self-denial I've ever heard.
Forgive my disrespect, but I don't think there is anything worth trading your emotions for, milord.
I want you to listen to me. Man may forge a sword so that he can kill with it, but that is not necessarily the sword's only use. Do you understand, Ledah?
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Yes. I understand. Duty. Obedience. The will of the gods.
"Ahahahahaha! Impressive! But playtime's over. You die now!" The blade flew faster than the eye could see, and though the boy raised his Diviner in response, he would not be swift enough. His companions could do nothing. The insanity in her eyes . . . There was no mercy left.
What are they, if I lose all else? My will. My life. My emotions. . . . My friend.
"No."
He moves faster than he has ever moved in his centuries of life. In an instant, he intercepts the blade with his body, feeling it tear into his back, severing his muscles, ripping through his wings. But he cannot help but smile. And he continues to smile as he watches Ein's eyes, screwed shut in anticipation of the strike that would have killed him, open wide in astonishment.
"It seems . . . I made it in time."
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You were nothing but a nuisance to me. Thinking, worrying, doubting . . . Watching you, I felt something similar to anger. But I realize now that wasn't anger . . . I may actually have been envious of you. You, Ein. You, who was as weak as a newborn child . . . returned far stronger than I thought possible.
Ein . . . you might . . . you might be able to find it . . . the answer . . . The answer I could never find, no matter how hard I tried as a Grim Angel.
Farewell . . . My friend.
Ein.
