The last echo of Isaac's rage faded into the night air, replaced by a silent, overwhelming ringing in his ears. There was no more chasing, no more screams of hatred, no crunching of bones under the blades of summoned demons. There was only a cold, indifferent gloom and a subtle, sweet fragrance floating from somewhere in the darkness.

Hector staggered and fell to his knees, and then to his back, into the tall, cool grass. The earth took his weight with a silent sigh. He no longer felt the pain of his wounds, just overwhelming, deafening fatigue, heavier than any armor. He lay staring at the vast velvety canvas of the sky, dotted with prickly silver needles of stars. They shone coldly and far away, promising nothing but eternity.

It was an incredible effort to turn his head. Nearby, in a thicket of grasses, there was a single white flower. Its petals, perfect and fragile, seemed to be carved out of the moonlight. He bloomed here, in the wilderness, all alone, for no one, just for the night itself. And there was some piercing, final meaning in it.

Hector froze. His breathing became even and quiet. His hand lay limply on the ground, his fingers almost touching the velvety stem. He looked at this perfect, invisible flower and saw himself in it. The same kind of unnecessary beauty that bloomed on the edge of the world to fade away in silence, unrecognized and unsung by anyone.

That's the place. The end of the road. Not in a fierce battle, not in the flames of a castle, but here, in the grass, under the cold stars, in the company of a single flower. He closed his eyes, surrendering to the silence. No more running. No need to fight. No need to remember. Just to let go of everything, finally allowing myself to disappear into this silent, indifferent and so beautiful peace.… But someone has other plans. Someone was already walking around the bushes with a light source in their hands, making Hector wince and grunt hoarsely.

"...Don't worry, I'm going to be a corpse soon. Go your own way..."