The figure stood there calmly, his black hair cascading like a waterfall.
But he spoke.
Perhaps because, after endless ages, he had once again met the only old friend he had ever had, he did not refuse Lynn's question.
"Did you know? I was never supposed to awaken in this era."
Lynn froze.
It was the first time he had heard words like these from that cold, numb figure.
In fact, he knew perfectly well that this awakening had been an accident. The Jailers had originally targeted him to awaken their Great Lord's Mark within him, a raven. But in the end, they had touched something deeper within his soul-him...
Because, in a sense, they had always been one. They shared the same soul. The only difference was their pasts, shaped by vastly different experiences.
The figure paced, looking up at the surging river of time.
His voice sounded as though he were looking back into the distant past.
"The struggle for control of the soul back then was indeed a trap I laid for him. Only that way could I break myself down and rise anew, becoming the one and only Firstborn. And only as a Firstborn would I be qualified to successfully take possession of the Sleeper."
"Because I believed that only by taking that path could I truly end this endless cycle of Reincarnation and decide my own life and death."
Lynn's brow furrowed deeply. He wanted to speak, but held back.
"But I failed."
The figure's voice was indifferent, his gaze calm as still water.
Lynn remembered the scenes the Silver Sun had shown him not long ago. Perhaps those were flaws he had refused to acknowledge at all: the trace of guilt lingering in his heart, the bewilderment that surfaced as his end approached. They