The world was hanging by a thread.
Guts. Rem. Betelgeuse.
Three souls.
Three abysses.
Three existences ripped from all logic.
And yet…
In that moment, they stood together.
Under a frozen sky.
In a desecrated garden.
Rem was at her limit. Her horn still glowing, her eyes haunted by everything she had lost — her sister, her world, her bearings.
Guts held his sword in a trembling hand. Blood, chaos, madness — he knew them all. But this time… it was different.
And Betelgeuse…
Still there.
Grinning in the shadows, like a priest pleased with his sermon.
Then — the impossible.
An invisible wind.
A breath without a source.
Rem was lifted off the ground.
Slowly at first.
Then violently.
She screamed. Not in pain — in panic.
Guts stepped forward. Once. Twice.
But it was already too late.
She was in the air.
Suspended like an offering.
Arms pulled backward. Eyes wide with terror.
She didn't understand.
Neither did he.
And Betelgeuse laughed.
His laughter. Insane.
Higher. Louder. Purer.
Betelgeuse (exalted):
"Look at her, brave one… Look closely!
The one you couldn't save.
The one you let love you."
(He lifts his arms to the sky, theatrical.)
Betelgeuse:
"And you, sweet child… you who still burn…
Tell him. Tell him what you never dared to say.
Just one word. One time.
A gift. Before your farewell."
Rem, suspended in the void, trembled.
Her tear-filled eyes locked onto Guts.
She opened her mouth. Hesitated.
Then… she spoke.
Rem (broken, but clear):
"I love you, Guts…
Thank you."
A deathly silence fell.
Betelgeuse smiled — a smile that was almost… satisfied.
Then he vanished, swallowed by shadow.
Guts stood frozen.
His legs wouldn't move.
But his heart — his heart was screaming.
And then he lunged.
A guttural cry burst from his throat.
A wounded beast's roar.
But the cultists surged.
Again.
Again.
Again.
They threw themselves on him like a tide of darkness.
And Guts struck.
He struck to live.
To cross the impossible.
His mechanical arm snapped.
A bolt pierced through a skull.
He fired. The cannon blew a hole through the circle of shadows.
And his blade — the Dragon Slayer — slashed, crushed, tore apart soulless bodies.
He no longer thought.
He no longer prayed.
He ran toward her.
Toward the one who, for him, represented everything he wasn't supposed to be able to love anymore.
Humanity. Tenderness. The gaze of another.
He couldn't fail.
Not again.
Not like at the Eclipse.
And deep within him, one certainty:
She's still there.
And he can still save her.
He had struck.
He had shattered the cultists, one by one, like hollow shells.
His body, pushed beyond exhaustion, moved by instinct. By refusal.
He had never fought like this — not since her.
And then…
He saw her.
Rem.
On the ground.
Lifeless.
Her body had just crashed down onto the garden stones, abandoned by the invisible force that had taken her.
A cold chill crawled up his spine.
He hadn't seen the end.
He hadn't known.
He hadn't done anything.
Once again.
Once again, it was too late.
He stepped forward.
His feet crushed the blood-soaked flowers.
His sword, still hot, slipped from his hands.
And in a silence louder than screams, he fell to his knees.
He gathered her into his arms.
Her eyes saw nothing. Her body didn't shake. She was gone.
Her.
The girl who had seen him. Understood him. Followed him.
What he held wasn't just a corpse.
It was a symbol.
A message the world had already sent him.
A cruel reminder.
As if the Eclipse had happened again.
Here.
Now.
In this world too.
And even here, he had failed.
This world — theirs — was already destroyed.
Ruined.
Without purpose.
Without future.
He held Rem's body close. Tight.
Not to pray.
But so he wouldn't forget her.
Then he looked up.
His eyes met Betelgeuse's.
The fanatic stared at him with painful, almost tender delight.
And he spoke.
Betelgeuse (softly):
"This is your fault."
(He smiled, lips covered in blood.)
Betelgeuse:
"She loved you. You know it.
And that's why she died."
(He tilted his head like a compassionate judge.)
Betelgeuse:
"Love… love kills.
And you… you led her to death."
(He raised a hand toward him.)
Betelgeuse:
"It wasn't me.
It was you.
She was blinded.
And she fell."
(Pause)
Betelgeuse:
"The half-elf will meet the same fate.
There's no reason to fight anymore.
The path ends here."
A wave of dizziness struck Guts.
And then — a flash.
He had almost forgotten.
Emilia.
The promise.
Roswaal.
The manor. The duel. The first battle. The ceremony.
All of it.
Already too far.
Already fading.
And what if they too… were already dead?
He didn't know anymore.
He didn't want to know.
This world — the one he hadn't chosen — he had believed in it. A little.
He had lived in it, for a few weeks.
But already… the end.
No time to build anything.
No time to believe.
No chance to change.
Just the end.
Betelgeuse stepped forward.
Around him, the cultists fell silent.
The wind stopped.
The world itself seemed suspended, frozen around this moment.
He bowed his head slightly, hands joined like a patient monk.
Betelgeuse (calm, almost tender):
"So, Scourge… what do you want to do now?"
Guts didn't answer.
His gaze was gone. Empty.
He was thinking.
About the only thing still left in his mind.
Death.
He no longer knew why he had fought.
He wasn't from this world.
He had never asked to be part of it.
And yet he had been thrown into its tragedies, its gods, its fanatics.
There was no Griffith to curse here.
No Apostle to kill.
No God Hand to hunt.
Nothing.
Only the absurd.
A world he had barely touched,
And which had closed on him like a jaw.
He saw it all again.
Elsa.
The Demon Beast.
The ceremony.
The duel with Julius.
The hookah with Rem.
The White Whale.
The screams. The laughter. The gazes.
All of it… for this?
All of it, to die here —
Without purpose.
Without glory.
Without hatred.
Without love.
He felt nothing now, except a void.
A void shaped like Rem.
Then he raised his eyes.
And he said it.
Guts (deep, worn, broken voice):
"I want to die."
Betelgeuse stared at him.
For a moment, he didn't laugh.
For a moment… he understood.
Guts (voice tense, with a hoarse burst of rage):
"And if you refuse…
If you give me one more chance to stand…
Then it'll be too late."
Silence fell.
And in that voice, Betelgeuse heard something.
Something he hadn't heard in a long time.
Fear.
Not the fear of a man.
But the fear of a monster who had chosen to fall…
and who, if he rose again, would leave nothing standing.
He looked at Guts.
For a long time.
He saw the Brand on his neck.
He saw the weight of thousands of deaths.
He saw an ancient shadow, one that didn't belong in this world.
And then…
Betelgeuse bowed.
His face, for a moment, almost human.
Betelgeuse:
"So be it."
Guts was still holding Rem's body
When the hands appeared.
Black.
Tinged with violet.
They came from the void, from the air, from nothingness.
He saw them.
He had seen them before.
Those hands…
The ones that had torn Rem apart before his eyes,
piece by piece,
while he could do nothing.
They came again.
But this time, for him.
He didn't move.
He didn't scream.
He accepted.
His body was pierced from every side.
The blood flowed.
His knees gave out.
He collapsed forward — gently, almost at peace.
Still holding Rem's lifeless body in his arms.
And as his vision blurred…
As the world around him faded…
He thought of her.
Not Rem.
Casca.
And deep inside,
In a corner of his soul still alive,
He knew:
He was going to come back.