EP.122 Those Who Harbor No Hope Cannot Despair
Chirrup, chirrup.
The sound that jerked the girl’s consciousness back to reality after wandering through memories for a while was an alien noise that couldn’t possibly belong to this world.
A vast, white space boasting illogical dimensions. An unidentified black box sitting not far from the entrance.
Once upon a time, these were everything that made up the girl’s world.
For her, who had lost all her memories and personality and was in a state akin to a newborn, this white space was a cozy cradle, and the black box was like a mobile to soothe her boredom.
But as her shattered identity began to take shape recently, she started to find this desolate space a bit suffocating.
Every time she was left alone here after a cheerful time with the man, the silence continuously reminded her of the loneliness she had forgotten, making her want to escape it, to run away.
“Just once…”
The faintly echoing voice of the man. That nostalgic tune brought a glimmer of light to the girl’s eyes, which seemed to have lost all vitality.
The black box, which had only exhibited vague noise, now clearly showcased the kind face of the man she had dreamt of even in her sleep.
“A, aa…”
With trembling hands, she tried to caress the cold screen a few times, but all she could manage was a muted murmur through her cracked throat that had been crying for hours.
“Hyung-hoo?”
“Oh, it’s nothing.”
Perhaps her desperate feelings reached him.
The man suddenly stopped moving, glancing around like a wary sparrow, but sadly, that twitch was merely fleeting.
“Hey! Priest! If it’s not too much trouble! When you do aang, could you shout the rescue too?”
“Eh?”
His loud command was strong enough to fix the man’s gaze in one direction as if he were chasing something.
From that moment on, a stench of despair began to bloom in the girl’s eyes, which were filled with faint hope.
“Ahem! Ready! A, aang~”
“Aang─!!!”
A warm glow that could withdraw the cold that settled on her skin.
The affection she had longed for was right there.
Yet, that had once belonged solely to her was no longer hers.
With one hand carefully supporting a utensil, the man was feeding a blonde woman with her mouth wide open.
The girl, lost in the process, unconsciously mirrored the man’s gestures, opening and closing her mouth along with him.
“Uumm!”
However, unlike the woman on the screen, who was busily flaunting her happiness, the solitude seeping into the girl felt like her entire body was decaying.
She thought briefly about being robbed.
Endless despair had worn her down, leaving no room for such passionate thoughts.
What on earth should she do?
The girl did not know.
How to express affection. How to crave affection.
Having assembled the fragments of memories floating like buoys on the ocean, her actions lacked context, frustrating the man instead.
‘Now that it has come to this, is it okay if you call me “oppai” as promised? Sister Welna?’
Suddenly recalling a moment, she speculated about what he might like to do.
‘Our Welna! Shall we have a jjo-uk! together!’
She tried to convey her feelings to him in the most intense way imprinted on her body.
Such actions were a kind of distress signal.
A desperate plea for him to guide her, lost in the fog of oblivion.
Plop.
A single tear that had gathered on the girl’s face fell weakly onto her pure white thigh.
Where did it all go wrong?
What mistake had she made?
The repeated regrets swirled fiercely once more in her mind, feeling foolish to even count.
‘Welna… won’t you be my sister…?’
Suddenly, the memory of her sister’s anguished cries made her realize that perhaps the man might never come looking for her.
‘Oppai… not coming…?’
At that time, the girl had no intent to harm her sister.
She had learned from her sister that prioritizing her own feelings and mistreating others was wrong.
It was easy to see that her sister also bore sorrow comparable to her own, simply by looking at her pained expression.
‘Sister…’
The hand that slowly reached towards the crying sister was not meant to harm but to embrace her.
However, the girl’s intentions were abruptly interrupted by a fierce uproar that surged from her sister’s chest.
‘Gah, gah!’
‘Sister!’
Unable to make a proper sound, the girl urgently leaped toward her sister, who was in imminent danger.
Having had her instincts replace her reason until now.
The source of the force trying to crush her sister’s life was not hard to discern.
Divine Authority. The power known as a piece. Holy Power.
Though inferior to her, it was of a level comparable enough to pose a threat to her sister’s breath, gnashing its fangs fiercely.
The girl’s small hands pressed down hard on her sister’s chest, acting entirely out of instinct.
If this force, threatening her sister’s life, shared roots with her own, she could somewhat neutralize it, and this unusual behavior arose within her.
Fortunately, the girl’s instinct was spot on, but it was still too early to relax.
Having only wielded power to impose Holy Power, she could only delay the advance of this force feeding on her sister’s life ever so slightly.
It was inevitable.
Originally, Divine Power is a force “bestowed” from God to humans and from one human to another.
If it were something she had used herself, that might be different.
But a third party, unclear in identity, wielded this lethal power; the girl had not mastered handling such forces.
The only person who could safely extract and absorb Divine Power lodged within someone else’s body was just one in the brief history of the girl’s life.
‘Ah, aa…’
‘Sister! Sister!’
Like a beacon in a storm, her sister seemed to be on the verge of losing her vitality.
The girl’s face, which had been hard to read emotionally, contorted greatly with intense despair.
She had to decide quickly.
Whether to try to draw in the Holy Power dwelling in her sister’s body or to crush this surge with her own Holy Power, even risking her sister’s fate to do so.
Feeling her sister’s heartbeat noticeably slowing through her palm, the girl bit her lips in tension, even as she remained liquid in focus.
Thump, thump.
Suddenly, the sound of someone’s footsteps dampened her ears.
The girl’s gaze, firmly fixed on her sister’s chest, twisted desperately towards the source of the sound.
‘O, oppa!’
The girl’s thoughts, once stained in despair and pessimism, brightened in an instant.
She had certainty.
This person.
This person who had returned warmth, memories, feelings, happiness, and a humanly life to her, who had turned into nothing more than a doll worn down by fierce Holy Power.
For sure, this person could also help her sister, who was in a similar plight to her past self.
It was a belief not tainted by primal instinct, but a pure faith.
‘Oppa! Sister! Sister is! Now! W-wait, what?’
But before long, a thick darkness started to cloak the innocent expression of the girl who seemed to have found light in the dark.
‘Oppa! Listen! Welna is right here!’
‘I’ll take you outside soon. Please endure a little longer, Sister.’
‘Huh? O, oppa…?’
‘There’s no blanket, so I’ll lend you my clothes for now. Just cover yourself with this.’
‘O, oppa! W-welna is here! Can’t you see Welna?’
Unable to contain her delight, the girl dashed out, but brushed past the man.
A sense of indescribable discomfort washed over her from his indifferent aura.
‘O, oppa! Listen! W-welna is!’
‘Please don’t come closer, Saintess.’
‘Huh…?’
The moment the girl realized a blizzard of chilling air was swirling around her was just after that.
