A voice came from an empty room coated in ribbons of black and gold streaks shifting constantly.
The voice sat in a chair, fractured and slightly leaning as if it wanted to fall.
"This…This message is not for me." The figure exhaled sharply, courage to say what it needed trying to run away.
"It's for anyone who comes across this. Well, maybe not. By the time you find this I'm certain I'll be dead." Its gaze slowly lowered to the floor, as if the words themselves had just sealed its fate.
"But for introductions sake, I'll tell you who I am and what I do."
"I am Vaeria, A librarian at the Memory Pillars of Keia. These pillars store resonant memory echoes from timelines that have collapsed…or will." She slowly turned her head toward the scroll that was recording her words.
"I once recorded the death of a Shunogai whose energy broke a thousand suns. This? This is worse." She tossed a bitter look at the scroll.
"Look. I don't…I don't want to die. I still have so many things I want to do. But nothing revolves around me and nothing ever will. It is always about the strongest here."
"…The creators' arrogance is causing inhabitants here to divide and fracture. War is going on right now as I speak to you." Tears began to stream down her face, although she made no effort to wipe it off, its as if she didn't acknowledge them.
"I was introduced to someone last month by a friend. Oh—his name is Chronos, by the way. All he does is just sit in these broken chairs and read records me and other lore keepers here put on these dusty shelves." A faint laugh escaped from her lips—drenched in regret. Most of it still caught in her throat.
"The person who my friend introduced me to was a Radiant called Aetheron. His colors always contrasted Chronos's. I still don't know how they even became…associates. I never see Radiants leave Vor'nael, never."
"But never mind that. We need to talk about something more important." She looks at the scroll to see if it is still recording.
"…Right. As I was saying before I got sidetracked, The Creators' might send a God wave soon."
Her eyes widened, and then— loud banging echoed from somewhere beyond this room "Shit. Uh, listen. Remember what we lost. And you—whoever you are…" She pauses; her mind spun, searching for a reason to validate what she is going to say next. "…Don't try to save this timeline, or any. Let them burn."
She gets up— the chair skidding away a few inches from where it once was. She stared at the scroll, wondering if it should be remembered. "…Why is it always me?" One last look at the scroll. Tears clouded her vision. She turned off the recording anyways.
Filed under: Timeline Collapse Candidates — Class Seven.
Sundered Files Sub Category: unknown.
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