Origin of The End

Author's Note: This chapter ended up being longer than I anticipated. I'm not complaining, though. However, it still feels like the ending is somewhat lacking... well, maybe not that lacking, but I think it's better to just post the chapter now. Otherwise, I'll probably agonize over it for weeks before posting it. And I'll most likely post it without making any changes. Ha~ Also, is it wrong if I feel dirty writing all those expletives? Hmm... I wonder...

Disclaimer: Honkai Impact 3rd belongs to miHoYo; Honkai: Star Rail belongs to miHoYo; Worm belongs to Wildbow.

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Proofreading and Editing by QAI521.

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The wind blew at a relentless pace, strands of purple hair whipping around her face. Sounds of distant sirens echoed through the deserted streets, yet despite the cacophony, the afternoon retained a misleading calm.

Indeed, it was a deceptively serene day — the sun was shining, the sky was clear, and the breeze seemed to whisper peace. Had someone else seen this place, they might have mistaken it for a quiet, somewhat sleepy town... that is, if they had taken no more than a cursory glance.

The truth, however, was that it was anything but; the city was a wounded animal, limping through the aftermath of its tormentors. Look close enough, and you could see the shattered windows, the scorched marks, and the hastily abandoned vehicles. It was a city gripped by fear — a ghost of its former self — though how far those scars went was anyone's guess.

Nonetheless, even in their broken state, the inhabitants were not without hope. Some of the residents were determined to rebuild, not content to remain a remnant of their past. An attempt to deny the Villains the satisfaction of winning, perhaps?

Makeshift shelters, organized patrols, and basic supplies for those affected by the tragedy; efforts were made to stitch together the frayed edges of their lives. Commendable, really, but ultimately, an endeavor that was far from enough... in a month or two, perhaps.

She could see the signs of struggle, purple orbs picking up and dissecting the tiniest details...

How the city, or the planet as a whole, managed to survive up until now she could never understand... or perhaps she would. Still, she had seen countless such moments — instances where hope and chaos collided in a maelstrom that was human resilience. A tragic yet fascinating situation, as some would say.

This, however, felt... different; more contrived, as if the pieces had been meticulously placed by an unseen hand. It was as though she could see the outline of some unseen stage for the players, the world twisting and dancing to their unheard tune of wroth madness.

Shaking off the thought, she turned her focus on the task at hand. Her vantage point offered a panoramic view of the city, the perfect spot to observe any suspicious activity. Anyone trying to move under the radar would be seen, and those who stood out would be easily identified. Granted, it wasn't foolproof — much of the structures provided ample cover for anyone who might wish to remain hidden.

Then again, considering their past records, subtlety seems to be a rare trait among the...what was their name again? Something to do with numbers?

...no, that would be stupid.

Where most would lay low and avoid detection, this motley band thrived on spectacle instead, reveling in the attention their atrocities and madness garnered. One might assume that such tactics stemmed from a lack of fear, but a closer examination would reveal that it was more likely a calculated effort to cultivate their legend of terror. The unwillingness to commit against superior forces, the ease at which they fled when faced with an unassailable force.