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I am the ace killer of the Space-Time Administration.
Task? Erase the sources of pollution in history - those beings called "heresies".
I have thought about death countless times. For a "person" like me who wanders in the gray area, should I return to the holy light of heaven or the flames of hell after death?
"... Hiss... You won't die..."
The strange whispers wrapped around the ears like ice snakes, carrying a chill that was not human. A bone-cold hand suddenly grabbed my neck, and an inhuman force pinned me to the spot. The thing clung to my back, and the smell of decay and sulfur filled the air.
"How did you die?" The voice was distorted, with an almost mocking pleasure, "Whether it is the chants of heaven or the wailing of hell... You are not worthy to go! Your soul... Is only worthy of being in my hands... Forever... Forever wandering!"
The blade tore through the air, accurately cutting off the cold arm and even cutting off half of the illusory head. "Blood" as thick as asphalt spattered on the ancient stone wall.
It returns from the scorched earth again and again,
Broken limbs were reassembled in the black mist, and severed heads condensed in the shadows.
Every time I come back, those inhuman eyes burning with green flames lock onto me more tightly.
I nailed it to the ancient altar again, and the alchemical runes burned its inhuman body, making a sizzling sound. It didn't struggle, it just looked up at me. On its broken and reorganized face, there was a strange, creepy... Contentment?
"Ah..." It sighed from its broken throat, green flames jumped wildly in the depths of its eyes, but its voice had a strange tenderness, "Oops..."
The cold fingertips, carrying the residual warmth of hell, gently brushed my wrist holding the knife, causing a shiver.
"... I seem... To like you, my 'scavenger'."
Intention: Hate is deeper than love
