Honkai Impact 3rd: Don't Die For Me Book 2 Purgatory

Chapter 1 Return

The sky was gruel gray once more. It lacked all the intricacies to motivate a painter's eye. No color or tone was present on all three grounds. Perhaps the only thing that could entice an artist to swish their brush across a blank canvas would be the challenge of the task. Not even the most skilled painters could capture the desolate canopy. Even if they swapped out their brush for a horse bristle or their paint with a variety of marsh mud harvested fresh from the bog.

Shakespeare had tried her best to lighten up Vera's world. But the subject matter of her plays was too stale for Vera's taste. She didn't need to watch a play about sinful ambition, nor did she need to watch a play about a child's filial obligation. Tragedy in the stories couldn't compare to what she already witnessed. Her beloved sister, the person who saved her back near Greece, nearly killed her. What's worse was that she stole away the brother Vera loved so dearly.

There was a brief moment in time when Vera wondered why Kallen acted so viciously. Kallen was supposed to be a kind soul, the hero of the people. Otto was the kindest of them all. Why would she hurt him? As the days past Vera no longer cared for Kallen's reasons. Whatever the conflict, couldn't they have just talked it out? She didn't need to hurt him to get what she wanted. Otto would always try to give Kallen what she wanted.

Vera walked by beaming citizens and scuffled orphans. The city of Kolosten was a confused symphony of joy and terror. The church was still feared as the sale of indulgences hadn't ceased. Cain Kaslana on the other hand rose up as a defender of the weak, establishing numerous charities for the hard times. Despite Kallen's betrayal, the reputation of the Kaslana house didn't falter. Instead, their reputation was better than ever before thanks to his efforts.

Vera sighed as the sun began to peek through the clouds. Her sack of herbs which she effortlessly carried tousled buoyantly over her shoulder. It was too bright today, brighter than the others before it. She made her way to the grand gates of the Apocalypse family mansion. Gates that glowed expectantly. Its dull steel reflected the brilliance of the sun that promised her better.

A group of battered figures stood at its entrance. One wore a ranger's cloak and sat atop a majestic gray steed. The other soddened figure, standing a half head taller than the horse, rapted his knuckles against the leafy acanthus design of the gate's steel bars. The jagged leaves of the ornamental spinous cut the scarred skin of the soulless gentleman. The plant whose symbolism was rooted in the medicinal arts could do nothing but open up old wounds.

"I've sent a courier ahead, don't you dare lose a finger before you finish the task."

Glory's chilled voice was lighter than anyone would expect. The man beside her, propped up by legs made of splintered sticks, atop a decorated stone pavement, had committed the worst sins known to man. He had a most handsome appearance, the sharp chiseled jaw line that made ladies swoon, the apt lean muscular figure that awakened the envy of every man, and the face of an angel, so divine that even attempting to sculpt it would be a sin.

That angelic body stopped its skeptical rapture against the gates that would soon confine him. He didn't bring his gaze to meet the elfish figure of the duchess. He couldn't face anyone the way he was. His eyes were lifeless and sorrowful, his movements mundane and single noted. He was a puppet with only one string lifting him up, a string that he hung from by his neck, a noose so to speak.

"Sorry."

His simple response devoid of ego and self-respect ignited the sparks of Vera's world. He sounded beyond defeated, like a trumpet with a cup mute attached to its horn. But the accent of his gentle rich voice was all Vera recognized. The promise that the reflecting sun had made to her on this day was fulfilled as the colors of the world started to manifest for her once more.