This is all of my tale I can remember. Wisps and shadows cling to my mind, alarming me with persistence, torturing me with hope. I cannot give them form, substance. All I recall are Miru's bewitching eyes, her beckoning hand.
And then nothing. Something has happened. I must be - what?
How many times have I played through the events? How often have I wondered if I am awake, or alive, at all? Where is Lucifer? Where am I? What am I?
I can't seem to find myself. My soul is just out of reach, behind a veil of existence. If I could only remember - only tell how long I've been trapped inside my own mind. But even this knowledge is lost to me.
This is my life now. A puzzle with every piece missing. Was I ever Samael? Or Jerek? Did I finally kill the Hermit, or was the one who did this to me?
I may never know. Beyond a terrible, guilty feeling that I am responsible for something truly horrific, and the story I've told you, I have nothing left of myself.
I do, however, have one more story.
I doubt this story is mine. Where all of myself is vague, these events are as crisp and sure as their subject. Is he a figment of my imagination? A relic of my past? Or is he my future? Dare I hope - my redemption?
All I can do is watch, and wait.
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