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As Noir lowered her head, she was still thinking.
Thinking about the memories that had suddenly resurfaced and the emotions that had come with them. About those names from long ago that she didn’t consider to be anything special to her and weren’t even worth remembering.
As for those that she did consider special….
The Twilight Witch.
The Saint of the God of War.
And the name that he had personally given her: Aria.
In all of the hundreds of years she had been alive, Noir had never once been as perplexed as she was now. For Noir, the only thing that should influence her judgment and actions was herself. That was how Noir had lived her life up until this point.
Even while experiencing joy, anger, sadness, and all those types of emotions, all of Noir’s judgments, concerns, and choices were still ultimately decided through the force of her own will.
The same applied when it came to her decision on when to kill Hamel.
Noir had spent a long time pondering her complex and heartfelt feelings for Hamel. She had placed all of her desires on a scale, weighing her love and affection for Hamel and the intense killing intent that he would direct toward her against the sense of loss, regret, sorrow, and grief that she would have to experience for the rest of her long life if she were to kill him. She also contemplated the fulfillment and satisfaction that she might feel if she were the one to die….
Noir had taken all of that into account and made her choice. No one else had forced that decision for her.
But now….
Now, things no longer felt under her control. The current Noir was like a glass of water with far too many foreign impurities mixed into it. Such a state was extremely unpleasant in and of itself, and she especially hated how she was being affected by...
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