The nation that built its glory on lies had lost its light long ago.

In a room darkened by blackout curtains to block out every bit of light, a man lay face down.

The desk was piled high with evidence of the man’s desperate attempts to save his fading country. Various ancient texts, crumpled books, stacks of documents taller than a man, an open ink bottle dried up, and pens worn down to the nib. Strong stimulants to reduce the need for sleep.

And rolling on the floor beneath the desk were signs of his torment.

Empty liquor bottles. Broken liquor bottles. Stains of spilled alcohol.

A sword carelessly discarded, its sharp blade stained with blood from cutting something… or someone.

And… bloodstains.

Blood had soaked the desk, dripping drop by drop until it finally ceased.

Then, a small light flew into the dark room, illuminating it brightly.

A lone white shining bird perched on the wrist of the prostrate man.

As the bird tilted its head a few times, the man lying there opened his eyes.

He blinked his blurry focus several times, the red eyes staring at the white bird before him, and he murmured unknowingly.

“A, Akarna…?”

No, that couldn’t be.

To think of Akarna at the sight of this was madness.

…But it resembled her.

The man’s exhausted voice continued.

“…How did you get in?”

The palace was already desolate enough. Not even a mouse could enter, let alone intruders. Especially his office, which should have been off-limits to everyone for a while.

And why today of all days?

Today was…

He had been unable to bear the heart-wrenching pain, attempting to distract himself with another form of agony.

No, he hadn’t hoped it would end there.

He wasn’t sure if he had wished for it all to end this way.

But when he checked his wrist, the wound he had inflicted was gone. As if it had never been wounded in the first place. Only Akarna could do such a thing.

“…I must have finally gone mad.”

Being in such a state, it wasn’t too far-fetched to feel as if Akarna had returned to him at the sight of a mere bird.

The man drew back the blackout curtains and let the bird fly into the dazzling light.

However, after circling the sky once, the bird returned.

“…Won’t you leave?”

The white bird hopped along the window sill and pecked at the man’s hand with its beak.

It seemed to want to convey something.

A voice was heard.

Like a hallucination.

…Don’t make me regret having loved you.

Tell me what kept me alive above all else.

So, Your Highness should be able to do it too.

The bird that climbed onto his hand wasn’t a living creature, yet it was incredibly warm. It felt similar to the warmth Akarna provided when she tended to his wounds.

“Haa…”

The man cradled the white bird and knelt on the floor.

A groan finally escaped his tightly closed lips.

“Hu, huuh, Akarna… Aahh…”

The prostrate man cried out like a beast.

No matter how much he prostrated himself on the ground and begged, no one was there to accept his excuses of actually wanting to protect, to tell him that his methods had been wrong all along.

Instead, the only thing truly being protected was himself. Even in this moment when he wanted to give up everything.

You were there until the end. Until the very end…

Yes.

That’s something he shouldn’t forget.

But yes, it was time to let go.

Even this heart that he still clung to as if obsessed.

“Goodbye…”

The man murmured.

Rising to his feet, the man covered his face with his hands for a long while. After several deep breaths, the man’s face that emerged was markedly different from moments before.

Life returned to his previously dull expression, and focus to his once vacant eyes.

The man stepped out of the dark room, the luminous white bird following behind him.

Someone would carry this feeling of liberation with him forever.

It was the end of his lingering regret.

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