#just uuuuuhhhhh rip certain people after reading this :3c ]

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Welt: Beckoning of Finality

"What will you do when you depart Mr. Welt?" They'd all asked him the selfsame question before. Himeko, his once student, with her achingly familiar smile. March with such beautiful ice dancing across her fingertips, Dan Heng stuck in quiet contemplation of the past and the Trailblazer, ebb and flow of the stars in her hands, as if screaming how amazingly a Herrscher of Reason she would've been, the three more like beloved children than companions. How easily he'd lied, telling of his plans to return to his beloved friends as that face looked at him with such blatant disgust before departing more like Otto than divine key.

Of course he lied, far easier to tell than the truth. He knew before ever leaving for this bubble universe that there was no return for him. Even before splitting his power between both his dear Bronya and Joyce he felt the call of finality in houkai formed bones. Each surviving Herrscher knew their cores would eventually return to the cocoon his amazing student called home eventually.

He'd so willingly gave that power to Bronya, a life for her to live in happiness after all that she'd endured, and Joyce, oh his beloved Joyce who called the stars from the skies with such ease, how proud he was of both.

He wondered, of course, if not telling Himeko had been the right course of action, telling her how only the barest amount of Houkai remained in his body after fueling that gateway. Perhaps that was his repentance for the past, sacrificing himself to give her a way towards those stars another her had yearned to grasp, before the Alien Key, before he had ripped those memories from her mind.

What awaits him indeed in the Abyssal Depths of the Quantum Sea? Was it Kevin, was it a glimpse at the world he'd left in Theresa's care? Or was it the memories of the man who'd gifted him this strength so many years ago? Was it the glimpse of the trailblazer's future, written upon the roots of the golden tree?

All he knew was finality beckoned and he dared not deny the seed that had given him that bittersweet borrowed time. The clock had finally struck twelve on the lone Herrscher's life