With the sunset signaling the end of the adventuring day, adventurers far and wide seeking to retire for the day all headed to the largest tavern in Finweald, the Sultry Poultry. Among the rowdy and famished adventuring crowd was a gruff, older man whose refined attire made him stand out from the rest.

The older man kept to himself as he headed straight toward the barkeep. The counter was largely occupied so he waited for his turn like a proper gentleman before he took a spot for himself. There, he put his hand down on the countertop before requesting a pint of mead.

While waiting for his order, the older man studied the barkeep’s burn mark that ran from his hand up to his neck. He took a few gulps before inquiring.

"You're... a survivor of that... incident in Vintergard? " the older man asked.

"Oh, this? Yeah. Made it out alive with my wife and daughter," the barkeep replied without missing a beat like it was routine for him.

The older man emptied his mug and gestured for more as he continued the conversation, "Uh, know anything about a tall lady statue? Heard some weird rumors ‘round it."

The barkeep kept silent and stopped pouring the mead as his expression soured. "Look mister, I don't know if you're a spy from Falderen or Tertoria, but—"

"It was a goddess!"

Both men raised their eyebrows and turned to see a little girl, who appeared to have had half of her face taken by fire. Unlike the barkeep’s scar, which was an intriguing topic starter, the girl’s face was a morbid topic ender.

Poor girl, the older man thought to himself.

"Lyssa, why aren’t you in bed, girl? Get upstairs!" the barkeep growled, clearly aggravated by his daughter’s attempt at joining their conversation.

"But it's true! I heard her speaking to me!" the little girl insisted.

The barkeep rushed to the girl and shoved her through the door off to the side, scolding in the process, "Lyssa, did you go back there? How many times have I told you not’ta go back there? Now stop yammering about’ta goddess nonsense and get’ta bed, you little scamp!"

The barkeep was huffing when he stomped back to the counter with annoyance all over his face.

"Relax, I'm no spy. Not an enemy either..." the older man spoke while looking down at his hand. "Used to work for our King. Not anymore, though. Just looking into a strange rumour—a favour for a friend... " he continued, running his thumb over an engraving of a "V" on his palm.

The barkeep sighed, "Well… there’s all kind’da stories about the giantess statue. You heard one of ‘em. I don’t know where it came from but anyone claiming the statue was moving the day of the impact must’ta been huffing a lot of smoke or just damn kids spreading fairytales. I wouldn’t trust those stories one bit. Anyways, it would have made a good memorial for that tragedy if it weren’tta all the haunting ‘round that area. Not exactly surprising after what we went through," he paused to let out another sigh. "Anyways, you should go see it for yourself, mister. It’s south of Vintergard, you can’t miss the large silhouette during the day. "

The older man tipped the barkeep for his story and stayed for another drink before donning his hat. A drunk tried to accost the departing man, but he easily weaved out of the way as though he had practised the manoeuvre a million times.

Even on horseback, it took the man some time to get to Vintergard from Finweald. Despite the dark Astorean night, he was still able to make out the enormous carcass of the airship nestled at the heart of the capital. A thousand people used to live in this place, now not even their memories remain.

The man took his time navigating through the ruins on the city’s outskirt, steering clear of the ship’s automatic defences.

"There you are..." the man muttered as he moved his horse closer to the giantess statue. She was kneeling on one knee with a tower mounted atop her shoulder.

When he got off his horse and approached the statue on foot, the size difference between them became apparent. If the statue were to stand, it would have been about five times his height at 30 feet. The barkeep wasn’t kidding, it was massive.

Upon closer inspection, something about the statue appeared off. The armour on the statue felt like actual armour. It had a breathtaking design, though most of it was obscured by a thick layer of decay.

The man was overcome with emotions as he looked up at the face within the helmet. He didn’t want to believe it at first, but it was someone he knew well. The man instinctively extended his hand toward the statue.

As soon as he made contact with the colossal statue, embers and winds burst beneath his feet. The scenery around him began changing rapidly as words echoed in his ears, wracking his mind.

"Hh! Illusion Magic?!" he grunted.

As the winds forced him to brace himself while remaining rooted in place, he spotted a purplish apparition of a woman sitting atop the statue’s head. When he looked up at the person he had been looking for all this time, the apparition returned his gaze but seemed to be looking through him.

He shouted at the top of his lungs, "Agent Six?!"

The apparition began its dialogue.

Freya, Freya Eleria. They named me after a goddess. Not a goddess of battle, or of wisdom, but of beauty and love.

Looking back, my fate was already set in stone at birth. I was a bird in a tiny cage, grown as a perfect puppet for my mother’s ambitions.

God knows the hell I went through to escape from the real world and enter this unknown and forbidden world, which had become my paradise.

For the first time in my life, I met people who saw the real me, allies I could rely on, and those I was honoured to call friends. Together, we uncovered many of the mysteries and beauties that were impossible to find in the real world.

At first, I thought that the people native to this world—the ones we call "Landers"—were beneath us. They were weak and insignificant, mere background props for our adventures in this fantastical world. However, all of the adventures I went through showed me how wrong I was.

I was there when the Prince of Fire, Azog, awakened. I escaped Falderen's betrayal with our King and his entourage. I defended the capital against countless rabid Caenis. The Bandit King? Hah, punched him in the face. Titanius? Not so invincible there... I even explored a whole city atop a flying whale.

I was my own person in this world. I had control. I carved my own path. I was free, marless, and invincible, like a goddess.

Such freedom broke me free from my birdcage.

At some point in time, I became a protector of Landers, hoping to spare them from the madness and monstrosity of this beautiful, but deadly world with my gift of immortality.

I wish I could relive each and every one of those memories again—even the bad ones. Despite everything, I wanted to permanently become a part of that virtual paradise.

Everything changed after Titanius. That single encounter humbled us, revealing to many of us that we Travelers might not have been as invincible as we thought—just three strikes and we're out.

When the rumours got out, I ushered the people closest to me to return to the real world before it took them, but my words fell on deaf ears. They stayed… the fools… but I was too.

A few months before the civil war, I enlisted in the Vigil, a secret organization that served the King and his nation. I thought it was the best way to protect the people of Astorea. Little did I know I had to fight the very people I had sworn to protect.

The time leading up to the war was one of upheaval. At the time, the rumours of Travelers dying in real life upon the third in-game death spread like wildfire. We were stretched too thin with the incendiary news that we weren’t able to stop the spike of Player Killings until it was too late.

I still remember the details of my second death. There was a cold downpour that veiled the bloodshed as our mission devolved into a desperate fight for survival between the Vigil and a group of Player Killers that day. I knew that death was a possibility going into it, but it was a sacrifice I was ready to make. After all, I had Travelers’ powers, unlike my Lander peers.

The second death took its toll, but I shrugged it off… or rather, ignored it. I continued pressing forward without looking back, out of fear that if I were to stop and think about the implication of my second death, I might have left my paradise and return to my birdcage… willingly.

When the confrontation between King Astor and Duke Roland sparked the Astorean civil war, the Vigil carried out secret operations to prevent a full-fledged war from taking place. We bent the arms of the aristocracy into surrendering their title and land to the new government for redistribution.

Despite our every effort to proceed with caution, the opposition fought tooth and nail to defend their rights. All it took was a single botched mission to halve our ranks.

I experienced my third death that day.

I still remember waking up in a forest with all of my items strewn about me. Even in my distraught state, I could still hear the hungry monsters lurking along the tree line, staking out their meal. I chewed my nails off in search of the logout button that used to fill me with dread but had now become my only means of escape.

I must have closed and opened my palm a million times, but the menu didn’t materialize. When that didn’t work, I screamed and wailed until I lost my voice, begging for a miracle from the gods or some kind of higher power. There was nothing. No one answered. I couldn’t reach any of my friends either. For the first time in a long time, I felt completely alone, trapped inside my paradise.

When I lost my divinity, I reverted back to my true self—the weak and frail Freya Eleria, bound to a world she never belonged to. No more playing goddess.

I spent a long time lost in my own head and it wasn’t until Cessia found me that returned a little to how I used to be before I became a permanent addition to this world. By then, my tears had dried and my voice was lost. At least I had come to accept my fate.

When I tried to reintegrate myself, it quickly dawned on me that I had remained hidden for so long that everyone thought that I had disappeared the day of the Great Disappearance. It made things… a lot more convenient. Without telling a soul, I put down my visor and became a different person.

I hid from friends and comrades alike, keeping distance to watch them from afar. Protecting others became my lifeline—my only purpose.

One night while on a mission near Vintergard, I noticed the sky appearing darker than usual. Thunders roared wildly as lightning raced across the sky. Descending from those ominous dark clouds was a magitech giant. It was something I had seen before, but not at that scale.

My mind completely emptied itself of any thought other than stopping the flying juggernaut from unleashing hell on the Astorean capital.

I have survived all kinds of hardships before, this is just another notch on my adventuring belt. They called me the Titan for a reason. I can stop this. I told myself. With a tight clutch on my shield and steeled resolve, I rushed toward the city.

Inside the city proper, I braced at the sight of the colossal death machine casting a dreadful shadow over the city.

At the moment of impact, I lost all of my senses simultaneously…

When I snapped awake, I opened my eyes to a vision of hell. I frantically searched for people to protect, but only saw destruction and suffering everywhere I looked. I tried to listen, but screams and cries were drowned out by the sound of fire and collapse. I swore I was able to hear the faintest sound of people burning inside buildings and trapped children begging for help. Every second I spent in that hellscape felt like an eternity.

While I took some time to calm myself, a group of crying children came to me. A single glance at my body’s condition should have been enough to tell them that I was a dead woman walking, but they sought help from me regardless. I was their last shelter.

Deep-seated anger at the worldly injustice sustained me. I made it clear to myself that I had to get them out of danger, no matter the cost. After I got up on shaking knees, I motioned them to head for the main gate as limped after them from behind, shielding them from flame and debris.

As we approached the gate, a massive explosion could be heard from the distance. Seconds later, a broken tower could be seen barreling through the sky, heading straight for us.

In that split second, time seemed to slow to a standstill as I closed my eyes and prayed to the gods. Not with words, but with my entire being. I would give everything just to protect those children.

This time, they answered.

A single bolt of lightning from the sky struck me. I could feel the heat coursing through my veins as my pain dulled. I got up to my feet, and instinctively extended my arms to catch the flying tower with ease. I looked below to find the children frozen in awe... or fear. Regardless of how they felt, the children kept a safe distance while continuing to follow me.

I inspected my altered form. The gods had bestowed upon me the Champion Armor. It was porcelain white with gold lining, complemented by a flowing golden mane cascading from the helmet.

A single glance at my surroundings made me realize that I was standing over buildings. I assessed the state of the city before taking actions.

When I moved, each step covered great distance. I could feel the city trembling as I walked. I tore apart the nearest burning building with a single sweep of the gigantic tower I caught earlier, freeing the people trapped inside. I hoisted the tower on my shoulder and shielded everyone I saved from the flaming debris with my colossal hands.

I could save them all, each and every single one of them. It was my second chance.

Or so I thought.

The suffering did not stop. No matter how many steps I took, how many buildings I tore apart, how many people I protected. No matter how much of the fire I managed to snuff, the capital remained as bright as the sun. The flames ignored my every effort and continued dancing atop the city ruins and its inhabitants. As if to mock my futile attempt to save the city, the ship’s automated defences activated, slaughtering what few survivors were left.

When fatigue began setting in, I walked away from the inferno to catch my breath. Once I was away from the city, I felt my steps getting heavier. Each step took a lot more effort and double the willpower. My senses were quickly deteriorating. It was at that moment that I could feel blood spurting from the fractures that had formed over my entire form.

I finally understood then. The gods didn’t grant me a Champion Armor—the mocking bastards turned me into one.

One of the girls in front of me stopped and looked back at me. The sight of her fresh half-burnt face, strained by a mix of confusion and concern was one of the last things I committed to memory. She must have taken notes of my increasing unresponsiveness and my inability to put down the tower sitting on my shoulder. For some reason, I felt the tower getting heavier by the second. When I reached my limit, my legs buckled. I couldn’t even feel my one knee slamming into the ground.

“God...dess?” she muttered in a raspy mumble. The poor girl, the fire must have injured her throat.

“G… o…” I fought my body to form the word. It was enough to spur her forward, though she kept looking back at me as she ran to her people. I hope her burns heal well.

Although the pain was immense after the cracks appeared, it gradually faded as my body became rigid, hardening to the point where I could no longer move a single muscle.

With the remaining time I had, I resigned to the possibility that the miracle was simply a gambit in another one of the gods' twisted games. The optimist in me earnestly hoped that they had given me a second chance to do right and to continue as the protector of paradise, but my true self knew better.

I found it ironic that the bird was once again trapped in its cage. Only this time, it was a perfect bird, immortalized in stone without a thought of escape.

It only took a split second for the older man to snap out of the hypnotic state he had been in. The purple apparition that had shown him its recorded memory extended its hand as if to plead with him.

I don't know how long this magic will last, but this was the only way I could reach them. If you are still able to listen to the end...

Please tell them,

Gwyn, Kyupin, Ashiore, Zeus, Magdalyn, Comet, Majolica, Haru, Brad, Janet, Portia, Rook, Hanno, Seigi, Alphabet, and Iván.

I'm sorry I wasn't there,

But I'll always watch over y--

The voice ended abruptly, unable to finish the last word as the apparition disappeared into thin air.

As he wiped the sweat from his brows, the man looked up at the statue with soft eyes. He was incredibly thankful that he managed to get there just in time to inherit the last of her words.

Having found what he came to find, the man adjusted his hat and headed back to his horse. He turned and looked at the statue one last time, muttering his final goodbye to a former friend and comrade.

“Rest well, Corvella.”