Gun of Ashes-Chapter 686 - 174 Wrathful Moment_3

042 tried to resist, but it felt as though a force was guiding him. The Secret Blood was ignited once more, burning fiercely, with a bright day emerging in his pupils.

Authority · Gabriel.

The Evil Ghost opened its mouth, silently weeping with a hideous face, greedily tearing apart the dying will, crushing it bit by bit, devouring it completely.

With every bite, a fragment of memory began to shatter, until everything turned into nothingness.

The firelight in his eyes extinguished, and 042 fell into the tainted blood. 047 maintained his original posture, but as 042 fell, the parts of his body deformed by erosion began to recover, and a brand new will descended upon this body.

The ocean roiled, with endless waves crashing down, engulfing the fleeing ship. Countless bodies fell into the deep abyss of the sea, and alongside it, a biting chill swept over, freezing the entire sea into an endless ice field.

Dense snow dust was lifted by the fierce wind, and below it, a long bench appeared at some unknown time. 047 sat on the bench as if he had fallen asleep.

The scene froze once again, the open door slowly closing at this moment.

In the burning Hell, Lorenzo, devoured by flesh, was still alive, yet had lost all power to resist. He hadn't shed tears in a long time, but perhaps now, blood was flowing from the corners of his eyes.

He had long guessed what was sealed behind the last door within the Memory Palace, but he dared not think of it, avoiding it like an escape.

How regretful, even the final wish was shattered at this moment.

He was about to die, taking with him all the memories of everyone.

There was no strength left to think of anything else. His consciousness had never felt so heavy, and the scorching heat became warm, like nestled in a soft bed, where Lorenzo would peacefully sleep, with no more slaughters or sadness to speak of.

This was indeed a beautiful ending, an exceedingly gentle ending.

Just sleep like this…

"Do not go gentle into that good night…"

A deep voice arose, and with sleepy eyes, Lorenzo was somewhat angry, but he was too drowsy to bother with the person who woke him.

He embraced the bedding, sleeping peacefully, enveloped by flesh that, like the roots and stems of a plant, slowly drove deep into Lorenzo, killing him.

"Rage, rage against the dying of the light!"

That voice continued to whisper like a dream.

Lorenzo raised his head in confusion, annoyed, wanting to give this perpetually disrupting person a good lesson, but seeing the void before him, the heavy memories were picked up again, and his calm face slowly twisted as he remembered something.

The burning fire destroyed all that was beautiful, driving him to terror, sadness, depression… anger!

"Rage! Fury! Accusing the fading of the light!"

He responded in furious anger.

Infinite flames rose from the depths of his eyes, as if a blazing sun was coming down from his pupils. In the hell of flesh, Lorenzo opened his eyes, uttering a hysterical roar.

His wrecked body struggled forcefully, tearing at the surrounding flesh, biting fiercely into those filthy things.

The blazing rage burned recklessly, destroying the past, burning one familiar face after another into ash scattered across the sky.

If…

If there must be a wish…

"I want to annihilate you! All the Demons!"

The audience stepped out from the darkness, standing beneath the endless light.

Without the Nail Sword to hack and slash, then use hands, nails, teeth! Everything possible, by any means.

"For that void… but beautiful era!"

As if responding to Lorenzo's wish, steel tore apart flesh, cleaving Hell. Amidst the rising blood mist, footsteps echoed, a familiar silhouette slowly approached Lorenzo.

The frantic figure paused, and Lorenzo looked at the newcomer in disbelief.

"047… you came, no, you should be dead."

"Yes, I'm dead, 042."

047 held the Nail Sword in his hand, smiling at 042 as he reached out to heavily pat his shoulder.

"But I came back from Hell."

His expression was furiously intense.

"For our wish, our ideal…

To die once more!"

A pitch black shadow pierced through the storm, accompanied by lightning and thunder, smashing through Reichenbach's defenses layer by layer, reaching the core of the battlefield.

Blazing white flames gushed forth from the cracks in the steel, as if within that Armor of Original Sin resided a certain burning soul.