Rotavitea scavenged what she could from the wreckage, salvaging parts of the vehicle's turrets for herself. Virno, however, took something else entirely. He moved methodically, gathering small pieces of scrap -- some small enough to fit inside his pockets. Strangely, he didn't pick up a single weapon.

  Rotavitea: "Aren't you going to take anything...?"

  He didn't answer. His blindfolded gaze swept over the battlefield, scanning, searching. Finally, he found what he was looking for.

  Rotavitea: "It's still gripping it..."

  She followed as he walked toward his own severed arm. It lay limp in the dirt, but its fingers were locked tight around something -- the necklace Sadducee had once given him.

  Even detached from his body, the fingers clung to it with unnatural force, gripping it far tighter than Virno ever could while it was still a part of him.

  He crouched down. Without hesitation, he pried his own hand open, snapping its fingers in the process. Freed at last, the necklace dissolved in his palm, re-materializing around his neck.

  Virno: "Filthy artifacts..."

  His left hand gripped the necklace. At his touch, alien runes etched themselves into his skin.

  But unlike before, they didn't wound him.

  Instead, the magic channeled into the necklace. Its metal trembled violently, glowing too brightly to behold. It vibrated, screeching in protest -- then shattered.

  Tiny shards fell to the ground, lifeless, stripped of their magic.

  Rotavitea: "Why would you do that?! That was your sword!"

  Virno let the metallic dust slip through his fingertips.

  Then, without a word, he turned toward the woods and started walking.

  Virno: "My sword lies in wait... And it has been waiting for much too long."

  Rotavitea hesitated. Every second, Virno was becoming less like himself. But Ballo had entrusted her with one last mission... No matter how much she distrusted him, she had to follow.

  The hours dragged on, and with them came the creeping light of dawn. The exhaustion gnawed at her. When was the last time she had rested?

  Meanwhile, Virno strode forward effortlessly, untouched by fatigue.

  Rotavitea: "Hey! Can we stop to rest? I'm dragging my feet over here..."

  No answer.

  Rotavitea: "HEY!"

  Virno halted.

  Rotavitea: "Can you act like a normal person?!"

  He turned. Walked back toward her.

  Rotavitea: "Keep your distance. KEEP YOUR DISTANCE!"

  She raised her weapon, finger trembling over the trigger.

  Rota didn't trust him. Not anymore.

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  Virno stopped just outside her reach.

  Virno: "Your courage is admirable... Yet it can easily be mistaken for insolence."

  Her pulse pounded in her throat. Shoot him. SHOOT HIM!

  He raised his hand -- placed it on her shoulder.

  And then --

  Power surged into her.

  Her limbs collapsed beneath her, her weapons slipping from her grasp.

  An unbearable force pressed down on her spirit, rendering her helpless.

  Virno: "Do not fool yourself... I am not the one in need of protection. *You* are."

  His voice didn't just speak -- it echoed inside her mind.

  Virno: "If you wish to rest, I will grant you the most peaceful of slumbers..."

  Darkness crept over her vision.

  She fought. Fought to resist.

  But her body did not obey.

  She collapsed into his arms.

  Virno caught her with ease. Her weapons were left behind as he resumed his path through the forest, carrying her.

  Virno: "I forget how annoying some of you can be. But tell me, Virno -- how are you enjoying your stay in the Cradle...?"

  Trapped.

  Before him stood the obelisk -- the towering pillar inscribed with the laws that governed all.

  Virno's spirit knelt before it, bound and shackled. Unlike before, when he merely glimpsed this place in fleeting visions, now he was truly imprisoned within it. He could see, could feel everything his body did -- but he could not move it. Could not command it.

  The only voices that reached him were Greed's and the silent, immutable laws of the obelisk, whispering their knowledge into his mind.

  Greed (possessing Virno): "Though my name has been twisted by history, though I have been bound and reduced to nothing but whispers... my essence endured. Inhibited. Limited. Locked away. You asked me what I stand to gain in all of this..."

  The orbs floating around the obelisk pulsed with green light, arranging themselves into shifting patterns. Visions flickered before Virno's mind's eye, revealing truths long buried beneath time.

  Greed: "You ought to know... The title of Greed was not given to me. It was one I unfortunately earned... It is not my true name. My true name is --"

  The images sharpened.

  A battlefield.

  A warrior wielding a dark-green sword, his presence overwhelming the enemy.

  Greed: "Zephyr..."

  A weakened deity, forced to his knees before that blade.

  Zephyr (Greed): "... The Fallen God of Wind."

  Virno's heart pounded as he saw the sword drink deep of divine energy. Green sigils burned into its surface -- the same sigils that had appeared on Virno's own body.

  Zephyr: "The sword of Greed... a weapon that can sever anything, that can be destroyed by nothing. It did not come into existence through mere mortal hands. No cursed witch, no masterful smith could have forged such a thing... It took more than that."

  The vision shifted again.

  Zephyr: "It took a god... It took *me*."

  Bodies. Piled high.

  The countless victims of the sword's curse.

  Virno saw his father -- young, trembling, venturing into the ruins where the sword lay in wait. His footsteps hesitated as he passed the remains of those who had come before him. Then --

  He turned back.

  Fled in terror.

  Virno watched his father retreat, saw the way his expression twisted with unshakable fear. The fear that would haunt him for the rest of his days.

  Zephyr: "For centuries, I have searched for keys... for unyielding souls. Those who resist my whispers. Who spit in the face of divinity. Who sacrifice body and soul to claim victory. Their will fuels mine. Their ambition feeds my power."

  Another vision.

  The wielders.

  Famous heroes -- each one rising, each one falling. Their names known across the world, their triumphs legendary. But in the end, they all paid the same price.

  With every death, the sword grew stronger.

  It feasted upon their very souls.

  Zephyr: "Although the strongest of you shine brighter than the rest... I still need many. Too many."

  The visions faded, and Virno found himself back in the Cradle. The obelisk lay dormant once more.

  He saw only what Zephyr allowed him to see through his stolen body.

  Zephyr: "But no matter... Patience is key. No vessel can hold infinity. It may take centuries. Millennia. Perhaps millions of years. Yet one day, the sword vessel *will* crack. And when it does..."

  Through Virno's own eyes, Zephyr clenched his fists.

  Zephyr: "My wrath will be unleashed upon this world. Just as I laid the bricks of its creation, so too shall I swing the hammer that shatters it."

  In the distance, the forest gave way to a clearing. A lake glistened beneath the moonlight, silent and undisturbed.

  Virno knew, instinctively, that this was it.

  The place where the sword awaited.

  Zephyr: "But rest assured, Virno von Virtus... you alone will not bring about the end. You are merely another stepping stone. One in a long line of wielders. So enjoy your new power. Live an enviable, glorious life -- filled with riches, fame, and blood."

  Zephyr grinned as he approached the lake's edge.

  Zephyr: "All I require... is your soul."