A transmigrator who arrived tens of thousands of years too late from the start uses simulations to spark a glimmer of salvation in an age when the Star Gods have fallen silent.
Amphoreus:
The world is on the brink of extinction, and the sun has been replaced by a cold machine of dawn.
The Flame-Chasers rule from their holy city, feeding lies into the fire and using all living beings as fuel to sustain a false Golden Apocalypse.
A luckless young man is cursed by fate. Even his memories and existence slip away like drifting sand.
He is a walking calamity, a plaything in the eyes of the gods.
A girl bearing forbidden blood is imprisoned in a tower. She is the last echo of the old gods, prophesying a dark tide that will drown the holy city.
When the desperate remains of kindling meet a faint spark,
when a fatal curse collides with a purifying glimmer,
they set out on a thorn-covered road to pass on the flame.
Under the gaze of the gods, in the shadow of gold,
with lies for a shield and misfortune for a blade,
they struggle, before the end arrives, to ignite the faint hope that can still tear through the endless night:
the fire of hope.
Curses and blessings walk together; destruction and rebirth intertwine.
This is a thousand-year journey in pursuit of the flame. At prophecy's end, at the farthest edge of the west wind, see you tomorrow.
Evernight: Let's be Chrysos Heirs together for all our lives.
Hysilens: Let thorns be our pact and waves our witness. Next time we meet, you have to bring me a glass of wine.
Cipher: You old coot, that was our last supper!
Tribbie: It's okay if you've forgotten. When we meet again, “we” will still remember you.
Seele: ...I don't want...to lose...my friends...
(Thousands of years later, Welt looked at the celebrated epic and smiled in acceptance.)
