CHAPTER EIGHTEEN.

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she could only live when the night comes. when midnight came — the clock struck twelve — only then, could she feel alive.

she craved for death yet she wanted to live.

when the night comes, it is the only time she can live. how odd wasn't it? the way she contradicts herself in every aspect possible. living but dead, as if she was suffocating but breathing just fine. heart pustulating yet the blood didn't flow. it just didn't make sense.

"ah finally~ some fresh air." sighing, a hefty melody escaped the apostle's lips. her encounter with rex lapis... was rather unpleasant, and foul nonetheless. "signora, where are we headed next?"

"i will be departing to inazuma under the tsarista's order." signora's slender hand brushed over her funerary mask; an obsidian black mask carved with the utmost perfection. "me and the balladeer will be there to settle certain matters with the shogun and gnosis."

"and i will be going back to liyue~" childe interrupted. at a glance, the apostle could roughly guess that the gingered haired man was most likely visiting his younger sibling. "how about you, apostle?"

whatever should she do? pay a visit to her fellow adepti, ganyu and xiao? or should she venture a little longer, a little further. maybe visit her beloved barbatos and strangle his neck with her bare hands, or she could tag along her fellow balladeer and fair lady to inazuma and interfere with raiden shogun's ideology of eternal.

though, the apostle found it rather odd preserving life. she wanted to live forever, but not physically. maybe through a tale or fable of some sort — the one who reigned over gods — rather than carrying a heavy burden of continuously living and living in the depleted life that slowly drained her will to live.

only then, would her eternity and forever last.

"i'm not too sure myself." drifting like a clueless atom. a single molecule that didn't know where it belonged, slowly, randomly floating as it pioneered its own path. humming along tune that strummed within her heart, a tune from a lyre that felt like home. "who knows~ perhaps i might start a revolution against archons!"

revolution against gods was like defying her own existence.

but she wanted to rest.

the apostle was tired. "because i wanted to live" these words engraved within her mind kept on ringing over and over again. a never ending curse that she wanted to end. those mere words she uttered begun as a simple plea.

she "wanted to live" for revenge.

she "wanted to live" for amusement.

but as time passed, the apostle questioned herself. why did she want to live in the first place? it was as if she were tied onto some sort of red string of fate that forced her to live when she wanted peace; an unknown force tugging her soul that supposedly rotted in the pile of corpses back to life. after all, war is alive and it could never die.

is this the consequence of being a deity?

she would constantly told herself that living was a need and not a want. living is a concept of being alive, where the apostle would believe that one had to be strong enough to live. if they died, they weren't deserving to live.

she had to live, she must live.

for what purpose?

she wanted to live but she couldn't even remember the reason of living anymore. there was no value. when each day passed, she was afraid of dying even though she is death itself. each day the apostle would live like a death convict, not knowing when her time would come.

she only knew that she was well alive and breathing for a purpose that she simply could not remember. like a soulless marionette doll decorated in the most exquisite dress and draped with silk linen cloth, only to be drenched in blood.

the only thing the apostle knew, was when she opened her eyes, she wasn't her.

she was someone who now served under the heavenly sustainer.

oh, the cynicism of life. nostalgic, isn't it? not knowing what made her alive once more. the apostle was well aware that she wasn't meant to be alive. yet here she is, breathing.

"oh! i did promise i'd visit them once more hm~" batting her eyelids, the apostle demeanor seemed unfitting with her inner thoughts. she plastered a cheeky grin, before her consciousness fell back once again, to reality. "it's been awfully pleasant, cooperating with the both of you."

"likewise." signora gave a conceited laugh, before she begun taking elegant steps, back turned on the apostle and childe. she lifted her hand with soft remains of cryo bits floating around. "try to stay alive with my absence, apostle and childe."

"huh, you should take a good care of yourself fair lady." the apostle snickered, eyes turning into a luminescent violent glow that represented clashing storms of lightning and thunder. she squinted her eyes slightly, raising her brows in a pompous manner. "i hope you remember raiden shogun isn't as weak as barbatos, nor civilized like rex lapis."

raiden shogun was someone who... someone who longed for longevity from the fear of death.

unlike the apostle who would naturally smile and tolerate ones behavior — like barbatos and rex lapis for an example — in order to gain benefits, the shogun however, would use other means when it came to confronting others. execution. a bash and bold method, though the apostle had to agree with the raiden's method, it was rather efficient.

"thank you for your helpful advice. i will keep that in mind."

if the apostle wanted to live, she would rather live in solidarity rather knowing the fact that she was a lifeless corpse.

"then, shall we part ways."

oh, if she were alive. if she could breathe without worrying when her heart would stop pustulating before her own eternity is achieved.

there would be no limit to the damage she could bring.

━━━━━

( CHAPTER XVIII )

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