Chapter 452: Words Through a Barrier

"Hmm?... no response?" I placed a hand on the barrier, trying to sense what was beyond it.

Usually, divine barriers feel like a slap in the face—electric, burning, or solid as a mountain. This? This felt like pushing my hand into a pile of cold, wet wool. It didn't fight back. It just... sagged. It was a wall made of "I'm sorry" and "Please leave me to die."

"Still nothing?" I muttered, my eyes narrowing. "Fine. Have it your way."

"..."

I waited for like... three seconds before I lost my patience and started knocking on the barrier.

"Oyy~... Lora!... Loli Lora!... open the door, your hentai friend is here!" I knocked harder with each word, my knuckles rapping against the invisible wall of her despair.

"Please go away..." a weak, trembling voice finally responded.

There it was.

Small. Thin. Like it had been sanded down by months of crying itself hoarse.

"!!!" I froze.

Not because I was surprised—but because hearing it out loud hurt worse than everything I'd felt through the barrier.

"…Wow," I said quietly. "You didn't even call me names this time. I'm offended."

No response.

I leaned my forehead against the barrier, the cold wool-like guilt pressing back weakly, as if even it didn't have the strength to keep me out anymore.

"Lora," I said, dropping the teasing completely. "Open the door."

"…I can't."

"Wrong answer," I replied flatly. "Try again."

A shaky breath came from the other side. I could hear her struggling just to breathe normally.

"I don't deserve to see you," she whispered. "Not after… after everything. I failed. I let them die. I let my world rot. I—"

I knocked again.

Not hard. Not aggressive. Just enough to interrupt the spiral.

"Lora."

She went quiet.

"Listen to me very carefully," I continued, my voice steady, grounded. "If this were about 'deserving,' half the gods in Nexus wouldn't be allowed to breathe. Including me."

"That's not the same—"

"It is," I snapped, sharper now. "You didn't betray your people. You didn't sell them out. You didn't enjoy what happened."

Silence.

"You survived," I said. "And yeah, others didn't. That hurts. It should hurt. But punishing yourself until you disappear doesn't bring them back. It just kills the rest."

The barrier pulsed weakly.

"The cycle of life and death is a beautiful, chaotic thing. I know it better than anyone," I continued, my voice softer now, but still firm. "And the cycle must continue. For some, death is the end. For others, it's a new beginning."

I sat on the ground, my back leaning on the barrier.

"I hear them when I close my eyes," she murmured. "Their prayers. Their screams. The way their light went out of this world when..."

Her breath hitched.

"I... I should have died with them," she whispered, the words laced with a self-hatred so deep it made my teeth ache. "I am the goddess of this world. I should have protected them. I am not as strong as you. I am weak. I failed them."

I let out a slow breath, the scent of rot filling my lungs.

"You know, Lora, what you're experiencing right now is nothing new," I said calmly. "I've been there."

"..." She went silent, listening.

"I... I killed my own sister," I said, my voice flat, devoid of emotion. "I was trying to save her, but I was tricked and trapped her soul inside me."

The barrier trembled.

"And after that... for many years... I was nothing more than a mindless beast, driven by grief and self-hatred," I continued, my gaze fixed on the dead ceiling. "I lost myself. I lost my purpose. I lost everything. I was a monster."

"I... I didn't know," she whispered. "I'm... sorry that you had to go through that."

"Don't be," I said, my tone softening. "Fate works in mysterious ways. If it wasn't for that, I wouldn't be here today. I wouldn't have my sister back. And I wouldn't have my kids."

I paused, letting the silence hang in the air.

"Pain doesn't make you weak, Lora," I said quietly. "It makes you human. Or… whatever the hell we are now."

"..."

"Point is, Lora," I said, my voice steady but laced with a quiet intensity, "I've been where you are. I've hated myself so much that I didn't care if I lived or died. There were centuries where I woke up every day hoping I wouldn't. Where I wished something—anything—would finally put me down."

Her breathing hitched.

"But the cruel joke?" I went on. "The universe doesn't let monsters die easily. Especially not the ones who still care."

"…I don't want to be a monster," she whispered. "I just wanted to be… kind. I wanted my world to be gentle."

"And it was," I said. "That's why this hurts so much. Cruel gods don't break like this. Tyrants don't rot their own worlds out of guilt."

I tapped the floor beside me.

"Only someone who loves too deeply does."

The barrier shuddered again. A soft creak echoed through the sanctum, like old wood shifting under a careful step.

"You didn't fail because you were weak," I said. "You failed because two sadistic bastards decided to make an example out of you. That's not a moral failing. That's being outnumbered."

"…She laughed," Lora whispered. "While she killed them. While I screamed."

"I know," I said simply. "But don't worry. That blue-haired bitch got what she deserved—a never-ending torment."

I didn't have to elaborate on what I meant. The unspoken words hung in the air like a guillotine.

Lora didn't ask for details. She didn't have to. She just… knew. She could feel the truth in my words, the satisfaction in my aura.

"I want to talk to you, Lora. Face to face," I said, my tone softening further. "Not through a wall of 'I'm sorry.' Not through your guilt. Just you and me."

Silence.

Then, a soft, crumbling sound.

I looked up.

The barrier was dissolving.

Not violently. Not with a crack or a blast. It was… peeling away like old, dead bark flaking off a dying tree. Faint motes of light, weak and grey, drifted like ash. The heavy pressure of guilt in the room eased, just enough to let me draw a full breath.

The path to the inner sanctum was clear.

I pushed myself up, my joints cracking, and walked forward.

Each step felt… heavier than it should have. Not because the floor resisted me, but because the air itself was thick with exhaustion. This place wasn't hostile. It wasn't corrupted. It was tired.

The inner sanctum opened before me.

Once, it must have been beautiful.

Now… rot and despair had claimed everything.

My breath caught in my throat.

And there she was.

Lora sat curled at the base of the heartwood, knees drawn to her chest, arms wrapped tightly around herself like she was afraid she'd fall apart if she let go. Her hair, once vibrant red, was a dull, lifeless cascade, tangled and matted. Her skin was pale, almost translucent, with dark circles etched deep beneath her eyes.

Her divine glow was barely there—just a weak, uneven shimmer clinging to her skin like frost that hadn't melted yet.

She didn't look up when I entered.

"I told them not to let you in," she murmured.

"You did," I agreed, stopping a few steps away. "They listened. You didn't account for me being stubborn."

A faint huff of breath escaped her. Not quite a laugh.

"…You always were."

I didn't move closer yet. Didn't reach out. I just… stood. Let her get used to my presence. Let the room remember what it felt like to have more than one person breathing in it.

"You look like shit," I said gently. "But still pretty."

She flinched. Not at the insult, but at the gentle part. At the acknowledgement that I could still see her under all the decay.

"I don't want to be pretty," she whispered, her voice cracking. "I want to be gone."

"Bullshit," I said, sitting cross-legged in front of her. "If you don't want to be pretty, then why didn't you just ugly yourself up? Hmm? A big nose, crooked teeth, maybe some warts?"

"..." She didn't answer, her gaze fixed on a spot on the floor.

"Anyway, it doesn't matter," I shrugged. "I'll still find my way into your panties one way or another."

"Why are you here, Morgana?" she asked, finally raising her head. Her eyes… gods, her eyes. They were hollow, clouded over with a milky film of grief.

"Because I'm your friend," I said simply. "And because you're being an idiot."

Her brow furrowed.

"I'm—"

"You're what?" I cut her off, not unkindly. "Mourning? Punishing yourself? Rewriting the past? It's all the same, Lora. It's a slow, boring suicide, and frankly, I'm not in the mood to attend another funeral."

Her bottom lip trembled. She opened her mouth to speak, but no words came out.

"Do you know why I didn't just shatter this barrier and smack your ass back to life?" I continued, leaning forward slightly. "Because it would have been easy. I want you to bend over voluntarily so I can smack it with satisfaction."

"Hentai." A tear escaped, tracing a clean path through the grime on her cheek.

"And forever," I smirked.

"I can't… forget what happened," she whispered, her voice breaking. "I can't forget their faces. Their voices… their final prayers to me…"

Sigh... Sorry, but I'm not good with words. It's a miracle that I even got this far.

And if I'm going to be honest, I'm getting really tired of this depressing bullshit.

So I will do what I do best.

"I don't deserve—... HMMM!"

By smashing my lips into hers.

"!!!" Lora gasped, her whole body going rigid. Her hands, which had been limp at her sides, flew up to push me away—but they froze, hovering just above my shoulders, trembling violently.

Then she melted.

Not into passion.

Into relief.

Her lips trembled beneath mine, cold and hesitant, like she'd forgotten how to be touched without pain attached to it. I pulled back just enough to rest my forehead against hers, noses brushing, my breath warm against her chilled skin.

"You're not done, Lora," I whispered, my thumb stroking her cheek, wiping away the tear and the grime. "Your story isn't over. You just… misplaced the pen."

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