The Beginning Before The End l

The forest had gone quiet.

405 could hear the small mechanical clicks inside his legs as he carried N through the trees. Every few steps, something inside his right knee caught, forcing him to drag it forward before the joint could move again. His left arm wasn't much better. The fingers had stopped closing properly, and he could feel N's weight shifting whenever the damaged hand slipped.

He adjusted his grip.

N was still conscious, but barely. Her head rested against his shoulder, and her arms were wrapped around his neck. She hadn't spoken in several minutes. Every now and then, he'd feel her fingers tighten whenever a branch snapped or something moved behind them.

405 didn't look back.

He'd already seen Brass enough times to know that checking wouldn't make him disappear.

The path narrowed between two enormous trees. Their trunks were so thick that 405 couldn't see around them, and their branches tangled overhead, blocking out most of the afternoon light. The roots rose from the ground in twisted ridges, forcing him to step carefully.

Something scraped against a tree behind him.

He stopped.

The sound came again.

A slow, metallic dragging.

405 turned his head.

Brass stood at the entrance to the path.

He was far enough away that the details of his face were difficult to make out, but 405 could see the saber hanging from his hand. Its tip dragged across the ground as he walked.

There was no hurry in his movements.

405 turned forward and started running.

The path dropped sharply. He leaned into the descent, holding N close as his feet slipped over loose dirt and exposed roots. Branches struck his shoulders. One caught the damaged side of his face, scraping against the exposed mechanisms beneath it.

He stumbled.

His knee locked.

405 caught himself against a tree before he could fall, leaving a dark smear across its bark. He forced the joint forward, then continued down the slope.

A low wooden groan sounded ahead.

A narrow bridge stretched across a ravine.

405 approached it cautiously. The planks were old and warped, with gaps wide enough to see the stream far below. A rope railing hung from either side, sagging beneath its own weight.

He stepped onto the first plank.

It creaked.

The second bent beneath him.

He moved faster.

Halfway across, he heard the metallic scrape again.

405 looked back.

Brass was standing at the entrance to the bridge.

He hadn't run. He hadn't even appeared out of breath. He simply stood there, watching the puppet struggle across the narrow crossing.

405 turned forward.

The next plank cracked beneath his foot.

He jumped the gap, landed hard, and nearly lost his balance. N clung to his shoulder as he caught the railing with his damaged hand. The rope stretched, then snapped.

The bridge lurched.

405 reached the opposite side and climbed onto solid ground.

Behind him, Brass stepped onto the bridge.

The entire structure groaned.

405 ran.

He didn't wait to see whether it would hold.

---

The forest became stranger the farther they went.

The trees were thinner now, their trunks pale and smooth, with branches that twisted toward the ground. The undergrowth had disappeared. Instead, the forest floor was covered in a thick layer of dead leaves that shifted beneath 405's feet.

The path split.

One route led toward a narrow opening between two rocks. The other descended into a dark hollow where the trees grew so close together that their branches formed a wall.

405 chose the rocks.

He squeezed through the opening, turning his body sideways to keep N from striking the stone. His shoulder scraped against the surface. Something inside it shifted with a dull click.

On the other side, he stopped.

The path ahead was empty.

He looked back through the opening.

Brass was gone.

405 waited.

A few leaves drifted through the narrow gap.

Nothing else moved.

He looked down at N with a knowing glance.

She shook her head.

He adjusted his grip.

A shadow crossed the opening behind him.

405 turned.

Brass stood on the other side of the rocks.

His face was partially obscured by the stone, but his eyes were visible. He looked directly at 405.

Then he stepped backward.

The shadow disappeared.

405 stared at the opening for another moment before turning away.

He ran.

                                 ...

The ground began to rise.

The trees grew farther apart, allowing more light to pass through their branches. 405 could see patches of sky ahead, pale and washed out by the afternoon sun.

His chest gave a weak pulse.

He looked down.

The red gem was still glowing, but its light had become uneven. It flickered beneath the damaged plating, occasionally dimming until only a faint red point remained.

405 pressed his hand against it.

The gem brightened slightly.

He took another step.

His right foot struck the ground.

For a fraction of a second, everything stopped.

A leaf hung in the air beside his face. A loose pebble remained suspended above the path. Even the branches overhead seemed frozen in place.

405 moved.

His body shifted several feet forward.

Then the world snapped back.

The leaf shot past his shoulder. The pebble struck the ground. His foot landed awkwardly, and his entire frame lurched forward.

He nearly dropped N.

She lifted her head.

“405?”

He tried to take another step.

His body flickered.

For an instant, he was farther up the path. Then he appeared where he'd been standing, as if the world had corrected an error.

The gem dimmed.

405 looked at it again.

He understood what was happening.

He didn't know how many times he could do it.

He didn't know whether he'd be able to do it again.

But Brass was still behind them.

So he kept moving.

---

A clearing appeared beyond the trees.

405 reached it and slowed.

The ground was covered in grass, and the hillside stretched upward toward a broad mountain peak. Flowers grew in thick patches along the slope, their petals moving gently in the breeze. The sunlight fell across the field without obstruction.

It was beautiful.

After the forest, the open space felt almost unreal.

405 stood at the edge of the clearing.

He looked behind him.

There was no Brass.

No saber.

No movement between the trees.

He waited for a moment, listening.

Only the wind.

N lifted her head from his shoulder.

“What is it?"

She looked toward the summit.

“Are we going there?”

405 nodded.

He stepped into the field.

The flowers brushed against his legs. Their stems bent beneath his feet, and the grass moved around his ankles. N watched them as they climbed, her eyes following the small blossoms scattered across the hillside.

For a while, the only sounds were the wind and the irregular clicking of 405's joints.

He reached the summit.

The view stretched across the surrounding land. The forest they'd escaped lay far below, its canopy forming a dark green blanket across the valley. Beyond it, distant hills faded into the horizon.

405 looked back toward the trees.

Nothing.

He lowered himself into the grass.

The movement sent a tremor through his damaged torso, but he managed to sit without losing his grip on N. She leaned against him, watching the flowers sway.

“It's pretty,” she said.

“Can we stay?”

405 looked at the mountain around them.

He wanted to say yes.

Instead, he looked down at the gem.

Its red light was barely visible.

N rested her head against him.

405 stared toward the forest.

He didn't see Brass.

He didn't hear him.

For the first time in what felt like hours, he allowed himself to stop moving.

Then N lifted her head.

She was awake now.

405 looked down at her.

And the world turned white.

There was no warning.

No snowflake drifting from the sky. No distant rumble of thunder. No sudden gust of wind.

The grass vanished beneath a layer of frost in an instant. 

The flowers disappeared.

The hillside, the distant forest, and the entire valley were covered in snow as far as the eye could see.

405 stood so abruptly that his knee nearly gave out.

N looked around.

Her breath came out in a small cloud.

The wind had become bitterly cold. It swept across the summit, carrying loose snow over the ground in thin, drifting sheets.

405 turned toward the edge of the mountain.

Something moved behind him.

A soft crunch.

Then another.

Brass stood several yards away.

His saber hung at his side.

He looked at 405, then at the child in his arms.

“You've pulled yourself a long way, 405.”

405 didn't move.

Brass stepped forward, his boots pressing into the snow.

“Across a crater, through the rain, and up a mountain that was never going to give you what you came for. Look at you. Half your face is gone. Your chest is caved in. That gem that Kaguya gave you is running out of light.”

405's remaining face flickered.

Brass's gaze briefly moved toward the red gem.

“There’s no anger in this. It truly isn't personal, and it isn't malice. You aren't a monster to be slain, and I'm not a villain in whatever story you were trying to tell. You're just a vessel holding on past its expiration date, dragging a five-year-old child through the cold because your joints don't know how to stop clicking.”

N tightened her arms around 405.

He shifted his hand against her back.

Brass continued.

“It's time to let go of the end of your rope. You've held on long enough.”

The wind moved across the frozen field.

“There's no shame in stopping here. The grass is buried. The flowers are asleep beneath the frost. Everything reaches its end, puppet. You don't have to keep fighting a world that was never built for you to survive in.”

405 stared at him.

Brass reached out his hand and turned the blade toward the ground.

Then he released it.

The saber dropped into the frost.

Its point slipped effortlessly beneath the surface. The metal sank into the ice until only the hilt remained visible, and then even that began to disappear. Pale blue light spread beneath the snow, traveling outward in thin, branching lines.

405 looked down.

The light was moving toward him.

Brass watched the fading red gem one last time.

His voice remained calm.

“Requiem Kai: Heavenly Funeral of The Flower Garden.”

The ground cracked.

A thin line appeared beneath the snow, stretching from Brass's feet toward the far edge of the summit. Another formed beside it. Then another.

405 stepped backward.

Something pushed against the frozen earth.

A spear of ice erupted from the ground.

It rose a few feet before bending, splitting into smaller branches that curled toward the sky. Its surface was translucent, and pale blue light traveled through its center.

A second formation emerged.

Then a third.

The snow began to move.

Frozen vines pushed through the surface, twisting around one another as they climbed. Their branches spread across the summit, and enormous crystalline flowers began to form at their tips.

Roses.

405 stared as the first one opened.

Its petals were made entirely of ice, each one curved and translucent. Light gathered inside the flower, pulsing beneath its surface.

A crack traveled across one of the petals.

The sound echoed across the mountain.

Then the entire flower shuddered.

405 tightened his arms around N.

The vines were growing too quickly.

They pushed through the snow, spread across the field, and climbed over one another. More roses opened, their petals trembling beneath the pressure building inside them. The ground beneath 405's feet began to vibrate.

He looked toward Brass.

The swordsman hadn't moved.

He stood beside the place where his saber had disappeared, watching the frozen garden take shape.

405 looked toward the cliff.

It was five yards away.

The vines were already spreading between them.

He started moving.

His first step was slow.

His second nearly failed.

The damaged leg caught beneath him, forcing him to shift his weight forward. He held N tighter and tried again.

A vine erupted from the snow.

It rose directly in front of him, twisting into a thick branch before splitting into several smaller tendrils. A rose began to form at its tip.

405 changed direction.

Another vine emerged.

Then another.

The path was closing.

He looked toward the cliff again.

The frozen garden was spreading across the summit, and the flowers were beginning to crack. Their petals strained against the energy building inside them. Long fractures traveled through the ice, splitting the crystalline surfaces from the inside out.

A deep vibration rolled beneath the snow.

405's chest flickered.

He looked down.

The gem was almost dark.

He pressed his hand against it.

Nothing.

A faint red pulse answered.

405 lifted his head.

The nearest rose began to bend.

Its stem twisted beneath the pressure, and the flower's petals cracked apart. Pale blue light spilled through the fractures.

405 ran.

His body skipped forward.

One moment he was standing beside the vine. The next, he was three feet away, his outline briefly disappearing before snapping back into view.

The snow beneath his feet erupted.

He stumbled.

N grabbed his shoulder.

“405!”

He kept moving.

Another burst carried him forward.

The world froze for an instant. Snow hung in the air, and the vines remained motionless as he passed between them. He appeared farther down the slope.

Then everything moved again.

The ice shattered behind him.

A wave of snow rushed across the field, throwing him off balance. He caught himself before falling, but the impact sent a sharp tremor through his torso.

The gem dimmed.

His body flickered once.

Then stopped.

405 looked toward the cliff.

He was close now.

Behind him, the roses continued to crack.

The sound was becoming unbearable. It echoed across the summit in overlapping bursts, each fracture followed by another as the frozen vines strained beneath the force building inside them.

A massive branch rose from the ground.

It twisted across the slope, blocking the path to the cliff.

405 stopped.

He looked left.

Another vine.

Right.

Another.

The frozen flowers had surrounded him.

N's fingers tightened against his shoulder.

“405?”

He looked down at her.

She was frightened.

He could feel it in the way she held him, in the way her small hands refused to loosen their grip.

He shifted her higher against his chest.

A rose behind them split open.

Its petals broke apart, and a burst of pale blue light illuminated the summit.

405 turned toward the cliff.

There was no path left.

He'd have to make one.

The gem gave a weak pulse.

405 leaned forward.

His body flickered.

For a fraction of a second, he disappeared from the frozen garden. He reappeared several feet ahead, his foot already striking the snow.

Another pulse.

Another burst.

His movements were no longer smooth. He seemed to jump between moments, skipping the spaces that connected one step to the next. Each time he reappeared, his body was slightly out of alignment. His damaged shoulder jerked. His leg dragged. His head tilted as the mechanisms inside his neck struggled to keep up.

But he was moving.

The cliff was closer.

A vine snapped behind him.

The sound was enormous.

405 glanced back.

The largest rose on the summit had begun to collapse. Its petals were breaking apart, and the branches beneath it were splitting under the pressure. More vines twisted around its base, cracking as they tried to support the weight.

Brass remained in the distance.

He was still watching.

405 faced forward.

His foot struck the snow.

The world stopped.

He moved.

One step.

Another.

The gem flickered.

Then the world returned.

405 appeared near the edge of the cliff.

His knees buckled.

He caught himself.

The drop stretched beneath him, disappearing into the pale distance. There was no visible path down, no ledge he could reach, no way to climb the mountain from the side.

Behind him, the garden groaned.

405 looked down at N.

Her eyes were open.

“I'm scared.”

He looked at her for a moment.

His remaining eye flickered, struggling to stay focused.

He turned toward the edge.

N tightened her grip.

405 held her closer.

The final vine erupted behind them.

It rose above the snow, branching into a towering formation of ice. A rose opened at its peak, its petals trembling as cracks spread across their surfaces. The entire structure bent beneath the energy trapped inside it.

The ground broke.

405 took one step.

Then another.

His body flickered forward.

The red gem flashed once.

He reached the edge.

For a fraction of a second, he remained there, suspended between the frozen garden behind him and the empty space ahead.

N pressed her face against his broken chest.

405 looked down at her.

She did.

He tightened his arms around her.

Then he jumped.

The mountain rose above them.

405 and N fell through open air, the frozen summit disappearing into the clouds overhead. The wind tore at their clothes. Snow drifted past them in long, pale streaks.

405's remaining eye stayed fixed on the child in his arms.

The red gem gave one final pulse.

Then its light weakened.

This is it.

It's time to let go of the bottom the rope.