Narrator:

Mere decades before Eliwood, Hector, and their companions vanquished the Dark Druid; Nergal was studying on the Dread Isle to perfect his dark magic. Through stolen knowledge and human experimentation, he blindly sought power. Two of his servants grasped his true nature and went to meet with him…

The mercenary marched towards the heart of Valor with his tarnished silver sword in his hand. His steps were filled with resolution as they echoed throughout the area. The thick muscles in his arms quivered with each step forward. He ignored the scent of blood that permeated the stone. He looked past the decay, where maggots festered in pools of fresh fluids. There were no corpses around, but the lingering impressions from past experiments assaulted his senses. He rushed into the room at the back of the castle, where the lord of this hell waited.

Nergal:

“It seems your sword is rusted, but your skills are not, to survive for so long in Lycia.”

(Nergal looks past Renault to the creature behind him.)

Nergal:

“Limstella, you told me he would be coming, but you failed to mention you’d be coming as well.”

Limstella:

“Greetings, Master. You assigned me to follow him to Lycia. I was unsure if that meant I should follow him back here, but he left before I could decide.”

Renault:

“Nergal, I know that Sonia, Ephidel, and Limstella were with me in Lycia. Were there any other morphs there?”

Nergal:

“Limstella already told me that you ran into that failed puppet.”

Renault:

“You don’t deny it then. That thing is one of your creations.”

Nergal:

“The first morph I ever created. I had high hopes for it. But it can’t fight or even speak. It still clings to life that it doesn’t deserve.

Renault:

“Why was it in Caelin?”

Nergal:

“Why would I know that?”

Renault:

“You made that thing! And you threw it away like garbage?!”

Nergal:

“I do not concern myself with the fate of trash.”

(Renault tightens his grip on his sword.)

Renault:

“Then what about me? What about my best friend? Are we nothing more than tools to you?!”

Limstella was hesitating. Renault was clearly putting her Master’s life in danger. She was ordered to kill him if he betrayed Master. Yet…something held her back, something bothered her. She couldn’t figure out what it was.

(Renault raises his sword and takes a step towards Nergal.)

Limstella blinked and the doubt cleared away. She didn’t have time to think about it.

Limstella:

“Defying Lord Nergal is punishable by death.”

As Renault turned to face Limstella and a fight was set to begin, Nergal spoke.

Nergal:

“Will you die here without meeting your friend? He has been waiting to see you again.”

(Renault lowers his sword.)

The anger in Renault’s eyes was wiped away by Nergal’s words. The sole reason he lived was to fulfill his dream of seeing his friend live once more.

Renault:

“Truly? He is alive again?”

Nergal:

“You gathered the quintessence needed for his resurrection. Your work deserves its reward. Turn around and your reunion will finally become reality.”

(Renault spins around on his heels. The smile on his face does not last.)

Renault’s friend had died so many lifetimes ago. Renault last saw him as a corpse, when he brought him to Nergal for his revival. His friend stood before him, living and breathing, but Renault could still only see a corpse in front of him. With pale skin, blood-red lips, and golden eyes. This was not what Renault was promised.

He once pushed the thought deep into his mind where he would forget about it. Until now, when the truth stood before him. People could not be brought back from the dead.

(Renault yells as he thrust his sword forward. The blade slides straight through his friend’s head.)

There is no blood on Renault’s sword as it pierces completely through. The morph falls down and crumbles to dust. His friend disappeared as if he never existed.

(Renault’s hands shake and he drops his sword. Renault’s boots grasp the floor and he runs. As fast as he can without looking back.)

Limstella watched as Renault thrust his sword through the morph. Something strange happened when he did. The morph’s facial muscles twitched.

Was it a smile?

A genuine smile, not the one the other morphs faked to appear friendly. Limstella shook her head, she was thinking too much again.

Limstella:

“Master, shall I kill him?”

Nergal:

“Heh heh heh… He has no more use to me. He is free to suffer however he chooses.”

Limstella:

“Shouldn’t his quintessence be valuable? He was once your strongest sword.”

Nergal:

“Once, yes. My experiments have ruined any value in him. You can’t harvest from a mere puppet.”

Limstella:

“Yes…”

Nergal:

“Let him run. He can never escape what he’s done. Mankind will never accept him again. And he’ll never forget how worthless he truly is.”

Nergal:

“He served his purpose, but he never became the killer I desired. Too many emotions clouded his mind. All he could do was fight. Now he can’t even do that. There is no use for a broken tool.”

(Nergal leaves.)

Limstella:

“…An emotionless killer. Could I become that for Master? I have been thinking of ways to assist him. Was the answer before me all along?

Limstella:

“My own thoughts are unnecessary. Mere trash. I exist because of him. I exist for him. There is no reason to doubt. I will be the perfect morph he calls me.”

(Limstella leaves to follow Nergal.)

She had one last thought of her own before shutting them away.

What expression would she make when she died?