The next moment, Elle’s spiritual body suddenly lunged at Annan.
Annan did not feel the coldness of the spiritual body passing through him.
Almost instantly, Annan felt a churning sensation of something foreign in his abdomen.
It was as if he was about to give birth...
Without thinking, he drew a silver coin from his bosom, pinched it between the second joint of his right thumb and index finger, and flung it casually.
The silver coin seemed to spread into a thin and sharp blade with the inertia of the throw.
Immediately after, Annan pointed it toward his own abdomen.
"I knew that in the end, all of this would come together..."
Annan sighed and sliced open his abdomen.
Joseph used a great hammer, while he himself was a Wizard.
Policemen used guns and had hunting dogs.
Even Amos’s own weapon was the "Gravekeeper’s Heart-Piercing Line."
—So, where did Amos’s initial severe abdominal injury come from? Why was there an injury that affected the internal organs, but no signs of struggle or any other injuries?
There was only one answer.
The cut on his abdomen was made by Amos himself with a knife.
Annan calmly watched as half a navel cord, like a snake, slithered out from his abdomen, shattered the bottle full of wine, and connected to "Angelo’s" abdomen.
That umbilical cord burned with multicolored transparent flames... It was a color as illusive as a rainbow.
Annan saw his health rapidly decline and quickly took out the tomato containing the blood of a dozen people, connecting it to the other end of the navel cord.
By this time, Annan’s health had fallen to about half.
It was roughly the same level as when he entered the Nightmare.
And that "flesh ball" was rapidly growing and stretching out limbs and features as it extracted the blood and flesh from within the tomato.
It was as if Annan had given birth to it... In the blink of an eye, it turned from a seven- or eight-month-old dead fetus into a seven- or eight-pound baby girl.
The infant opened her eyes.
They were green eyes.
—Resurrection of a stillbirth?
Annan’s lips curled up.
"How should I refer to you?"
Annan asked softly, "Gravekeeper? Angelo? Or perhaps...
"You can call me Elle... Annan. It’s a privilege I grant you, in return for staying with me to the end, watching my birth."
The infant before him, however, spoke with a girl’s voice, "And my true name is Angelo.
"Betraying Angel—Gravekeeper’s daughter, Angelo."
The unborn child of the Gravekeeper... Angelo, who possessed half of the truth of "Betrayal."
She could almost be considered half the God of Betrayal.
She was conceived as a tool by her mother, overlooked by her biological father, slain by her foster father, and her soul imprisoned in a Nightmare crafted by her third father, the Gravekeeper, using her biological father’s relic, reenacting her betrayal over a thousand times—thereby attaining the truth of "Betrayal."
It was a truth of "Betrayal" that even the Gravekeeper himself had only fragments of.
The Gravekeeper had waited in Frostwater Harbor for decades just to have her, to complete his own truth...
To wait for the moment the flower bloomed and its fruit fell to the ground.
The child of the Gravekeeper would also be his most satisfactory Angel Envoy.
Born from betrayal, died from betrayal, resurrected by betrayal, and elevated through betrayal.
Why did Amos blurt out to Angelo, "Save me, Elle"?
Why did he insist on using Elle’s corpse to perform the ritual, to resurrect Angelo?
Why was he so fixated on this child, who was neither his own nor related by blood?
—It was precisely because he knew that Angelo might be Elle.
But precisely because of this, Elle would never forgive his sins.
"Are you satisfied, Elle?"
Annan asked in a low voice.
And Angelo, maintaining the form of an infant, laughed with her thumb in her mouth, emitting a girl’s clear laugh, "I am satisfied.
"—Dreams are a potent poison that bewitches the good and drives the wicked mad.
"Those who neglect morality for their dreams, transgress the law for their dreams, betray their loved ones for their dreams...
The dead Elle, or rather the newly born "Angelo," let out a crystal-clear cry.
"I curse you, to be betrayed by your own dreams eventually. Your talents will be depleted, your spirits will be dried up, friends and family will turn against you... until you finally betray your own dreams.
"I also curse you... The dreams you betray will become your greatest curse, your deepest nightmare. They will haunt you for life, awakening you from nightmares... in regret for everything you abandoned."
The curses that spilled from Elle’s mouth turned into chains and vanished into the void.
This was a curse seen by no one, known by no one.
"...So, am I your confidant?"
Annan whispered softly.
The baby girl let out a gentle and pleasant voice, "You are the witness to this curse... Do you accept?"
Though it was a question, her tone held not a hint of hatred, bitterness, or hysteria.
There was only utter calmness.
A calmness like the sea—unfathomable and unreachable by those who tread upon the earth for all their lives.
It was then, they could clearly realize—that "Elle" had already died long ago.
"—I would, of course."
Annan replied with equal seriousness, "Although I am late, I still have to say... that you’re not the one at fault.
"So you can certainly hate them, take revenge on them, and even curse them. This is the privilege of the betrayed—you don’t need to suppress your emotions .
"In fact... your curse is too gentle."
From her birth to her death, and even until her resurrection, Elle was used and betrayed by people "dreaming of going one step further."
Even if she cursed everyone "in pursuit of dreams," Annan would understand.
But she did not do so.
She kept her sense, only cursing those who "ignored morality, law, and even betrayed friends and lovers for their own dreams."
"...You’re far stronger than the Pope."
Annan remarked with a sigh, "If only you were the God of Betrayal."
"—It would have been so, Annan."
Just then, the Pope’s voice spoke through Angelo’s mouth, "She and I each held half of the truth of ’betrayal.’ Eventually, we would become a god with two facets... Together with Elle, I am the complete God of Betrayal.
"She will act as the ’betrayed,’ overseeing the acts of betrayers; while I will act as the ’betrayer,’ listening to the lamentations of the betrayed.
"We shall meet again... I told you before that you would become Frost Speech. I didn’t lie to you. I won’t this time either.
"I hope that when we meet again, you will still recognize us."
Annan casually responded.
At that moment, the nightmare surrounding them... or rather the Gallery itself, began to shatter and collapse.
And Joseph, who had been holding a hammer and standing rigidly at the entrance, also turned into an empty clay figure that crumbled and broke, spilling black mud from within.
This time, Angelo did not turn into "colorful orbs of light" but became a beautiful, vibrant baby girl. And in the end, they didn’t fight.
"Am I about to witness the birth of a new deity... I really don’t want to become your Pope."
Annan sighed, placing the gun with only one last bullet left in his pocket on the table, then turned and walked towards the stairs.
This last bullet was meant to apply the Curse Binding on Angelo, preventing him from traveling far.
This was definitely the Pope’s final act of malice.
The baby girl had no means of evasion; if Annan had fired, Angelo would have been confined to Frostwater Harbor... and Annan would have been held in higher regard for killing the Betraying Angel.
—But Annan chose to refuse.
Elle had already suffered enough. As Elle’s secret-keeper, he didn’t want to betray her again.
Annan had his principles after all.
"Don’t really start treating players like emotionless, amoral demons now..."
Annan muttered softly.
The ice on the ground cracked and shattered amid the tremors, finally allowing Annan to set foot on it.
"Where are you going?"
The baby girl on the table, with two voices overlaid, said, "This nightmare has been completely purified by you... You don’t need to go anywhere, just let it fade naturally."
Annan said offhandedly, "Just satisfying a small personal compulsion of mine..."
He said this as he walked to the basement door.
Annan took off his shirt and hung it on the coat rack.
On the display case, Elle’s left eye had already vanished.
And with a deep cut on his abdomen that reached his internal organs, Annan walked to the entrance of the gallery.
At that moment, the tightly shut doors of the gallery, had somehow opened.
Outside lay blue skies and white clouds, and the sounds and scents of nature.
While the entire gallery continued to collapse.
Once he stepped out of the gallery, Amos’ soul would be released.
"—Some people do not deserve redemption."
Annan murmured softly, heading towards the entrance.
With all his might, he closed the door, then turned inward.
He looked back at the brightly lit gallery, his abdomen soaked in blood, his life hanging by a thread.
Everything was just like it was in the beginning.
And amid Elle’s contented chuckles, the ceiling of the gallery finally collapsed.
Annan’s world turned to pitch black in an instant.
Nightmare: Gallery—completely cleared.