Exiled from Elysium

Have you ever killed the one you love?

The one who saved your soul. The one who treasures you greatly. The one who vowed to protect you, even if the entire world turned against you.

I have.

The feeling of warm blood flowing down my hands. The bayonet’s metallic glow stained by a dash of vermillion. His machine gun, with its rustic and utilitarian look, slipping from his grasp. The faces of civilians, awed by the scene, fixing their gazes on me. I remembered it all.

Yes, I remembered it all. Even my love’s fading smile, and my best friend’s teary eyes.

“Edward… why?!” I shouted in frustration, my rifle remained in my firm grip. Somewhere in my mind, I recognised Edward not as my childhood friend and love, but as an enemy to eliminate.

Silence was his answer, as a patch of blood dyed his tactical vest red. With a sudden move, he pulled the bayonet out of his heart, and threw himself on me. A hail of bullet followed, blowing the young man’s body apart. Yet he remained obstinately silent, even as his comrades condemned him to death.

“Edward…” I finally whispered back, but he could answer my call no longer. Bloodlust clouded my eyes, and a storm of blood followed. Only in battle, I could find solace.

The blood-stained dust settled, the severed limbs of terrorists littering the ground. With the young man’s body in my hands, I approached his lover — my best friend. “Abigail,” I said, “I will leave him in your hands.”

With my best friend and her boyfriend’s body behind me, I dashed away. Cheers soon broke out, drowning out the incredulous girl’s crying screams.

I killed Edward, and many others. I was a demon, baptised in the blood of my enemies. Yet in the eyes of the people, I was the hero, and he was the villain. I became the woman of the hour, showered with love and honour by the common folk and the highest authorities alike, and paved myself a brilliant future with Edward’s corpse and Abby’s broken heart.

I was not worthy of such praise. I was not worthy of such love. I was not worthy of my life. Such thoughts in my mind, I spent my days wandering around the capital, unaware of my future path.

Then, on a rainy day, that happened before my eyes.

A speeding truck, its driver hasty and impatient. A young boy of elementary school age, his legs giving out in the face of danger. A slippery road, where the breaks would not function. Just like in those Japanese novels.

The protagonist will try to save the child, then die and be reincarnated into another world… the so-called “isekai” genre. Of course, such stories are mere fantasies; if I ran to save the child, I would simply die.

I made my decision.

If I strengthened myself using military magic, I might be able to scoop the child and leap away. But that was by no means guaranteed, and it would not be necessary. My worthless life will eventually come to an end. If I could give my life to save another person… even if I can’t make up for the sins I committed, I would gladly take that choice.

I jumped in front of the truck and pushed the boy away. A powerful impact knocked me away, and consciousness began to fade.

…The child is safe. I am glad.

I let my soul — if it even exists — be exiled from this beautiful world, as my body calmly embraced certain death.

Or not.

From death’s grip, a piercing light freed my soul. Thus, the laws of the universe were made manifest.

And uttered was a name. Not mine yet, but, for some reason, one that would become mine.