Good Begets Good, Evil Begets Evil
Good begets good fruit, evil begets evil fruit. Certain horrific sins cannot be forgiven the moment they are committed. One must regret them for a lifetime.
"I'm sorry. Truly, I'm so sorry... I... I killed you..."
That is why people seek out gods. They believe in immortal souls and an afterlife where those souls can live and breathe once more. This is the doctrine of salvation. That everyone gets one more chance to beg for forgiveness. That even the most horrific sin has an opportunity for absolution. That the end is not truly the end, and the last is not truly the last.
And so, when that chance for forgiveness finally arrives, the sinner utters words that are all too predictable.
"...It was a mistake."
Ridiculously verbose and pathetic—
an excuse.
"I... back then, I truly didn't know. I didn't know people could die. I didn't know what death even was."
Zara's good deeds go unrewarded. Zara's devotion goes unrewarded. Zara's efforts go unrewarded. Zara's suffering. Receives no compensation.
Because the malice directed at Zara has no reason. No one takes responsibility for her pain.
This is the way of the world. Zara's innate, horrific fate.
"I... I was too young. Too immature to understand my wrongs."
The more Noah spoke, the more pathetic she became. She could no longer distinguish words she shouldn't say from those she could. Her intellect melted into her sin. Her cool self-examination, her kindness toward others, her wisdom in discerning right from wrong—all lost their light in the valley of guilt.
"A-and... Mother, you've come back to life like this, so..."
In that instant, Noah bit her own tongue. Hard enough to draw blood. As if she wanted to sever it entirely.
What had she just been about to say? Back to life, so what? It's fine? It can be that way? So forgive me?
Even knowing how horrific her mother's fate was. Knowing it full well. No longer a child who knew nothing.
Was she really about to say that?
Ah. To think I'm this ugly, this loathsome.
"..."
As Noah trembled in self-loathing, the door opened.
Noah knew who stood beyond it. That was why she squeezed her eyes shut tight. As if closing them would hide her wretched self from view.
Please. Please don't come in. Charlotte. No. Not to you. To you, of all people, I don't want to show this side of me.
"Huh? Who's in the house... Mother?! Are you okay?! Your mouth is bleeding—"
"..."
"Who the hell are you people?! What did you do to my mom—! You bastards—!"
Charlotte rushed at Zara, spewing fury and resentment at the strangers menacing her mother.
It was a misunderstanding. Noah had to stop her. Block her. Explain it wasn't them. That it was all her fault. Beg her not to do it.
She had to confess her sin right now.
"Ah..."
But courage failed her. One word was missing.
Noah crumbled.
"..."
Noah knew Zara. She knew how many misunderstandings and resentments Zara endured. Zara never made excuses. Never defended herself.
So it was too late. Irreversible.
Charlotte would lash out violently at her mother.
But the scene that followed was utterly unlike Noah's expectations.
"I didn't do anything!"
"Huh?"
Zara grabbed Charlotte's arm. She blocked the violence. Resisted. Boldly proclaimed her innocence.
"Total misunderstanding! Why are you swinging at me like a crazy bitch?"
"Mother?"
Noah was stunned. Her mother... swearing? Was it not her mother after all? Just a mistake?
No. No, it was her mother. Even young, it was unmistakably the same person. Noah had once been part of her, after all. No mistaking it.
"Urgh—let go! You villain! Trash! Bitch!"
"Calm down and maybe I will! What, you think short because your brain's even shorter?"
And yet. What was this? Bickering like ordinary kids tussling.
Noah's head spun.
Then the blind woman watching it all spoke softly to Charlotte.
"Dear. Why don't you calm down for a bit? We were just talking with your mother. No need to worry. We won't do anything bad."
"...Okay."
Charlotte nodded, her anger cooling. Her face still pouty. Eyes on Zara mixed with resentment. But she didn't lash out.
It was bizarre. Calming rage toward her own mother—impossible.
"Step out for a moment, please. Just a few minutes."
"...Don't bully my mom."
"I promise. I won't bully your mother at all."
Charlotte glanced anxiously at Noah, then left the room. The door clicked shut.
The blind woman beamed. Tapped her cane on the floor twice—tap, tap.
"Looks like there's a lot piled up."
"..."
"But one person talking endlessly isn't fair. That's not a conversation. Zara. Mind lending me your shoulder for a moment?"
"Yes! Sis!"
The blind woman leaned on Zara's shoulder. Zara supported her as she suddenly went limp and slumped.
Clang— Somewhere, scales tipped with a metallic ring.
Moments later, the blind woman let out a strained groan. Then she gently stroked Zara's hair and stood.
"Thank you, Zara."
"Heh heh."
"Noah. Sorry for the late introduction. I'm Priscilla."
Noah didn't know Priscilla. Priscilla didn't know Noah. For them to understand each other would require a very long self-introduction.
"I used to be a witch. Now I'm a shrine maiden of the Scales and Contracts."
"Witch...?"
Priscilla. Once the Suicide Witch, now the shrine maiden of the Scales. On the day she received her baptism, Priscilla saw Gigachad's true nature. Beyond the shimmering window, she beheld the transcendent being tuning the entire world. She saw it endlessly attempting to avert this world's doom.
But remembering it all was forbidden. Some futures weren't meant for her. Bearing all those memories would be utterly unfair.
Thus, Priscilla knew little of the other doomsday buttons.
"Noah. Introduce yourself to Zara. Greetings are important. Truly."
"..."
This was the "ability to the extent of trying to understand you." The rules were simple. It didn't allow one person to unilaterally know another.
"Zara."
"Yes! Sis!"
"This time, I want to borrow your shoulder. That makes it fair, right?"
"Heh heh. Sure!"
Zara leaned her head on Priscilla's shoulder. Her eyes closed. Steady breathing signaled sleep.
Zara dreamed. The dream of the world's most unfortunate girl.
Soon, Zara awoke from her long dream and opened her eyes. She yawned, looked at Noah, and smiled brightly. A smile warm as sunlight.
"Ahh. Long time no see, Noah."
"...Mother."
"Heh heh."
Tales of virgin births—girls who never knew a man bearing and raising monsters—are common in myths.
Innocent, pure girl. Grotesque-born monster.
These stories usually end in tragedy. People come to slay the monster, and the girl dies shielding it.
But the tale of "the world's most unfortunate girl" was different.
["Ah, how beautiful... Cells with eternal youth..."]
What emerged from the girl's womb was no monster. It wasn't born grotesquely envious of the world, with ominous horns piercing its forehead, tail, or fangs. It was a girl. Beautiful, and thus fatal.
["But if it grows like this, its bloated vitality will consume itself for sustenance. Such a pity. Truly..."]
The witch who extracted it from the unfortunate girl's womb fell in love with that tiny life. Inevitably.
["Unfortunate child. Your daughter will die like this. So I'll cast a spell for her."]
The girl's true misfortune was that the witch was one of immense talent, researching eternal life.
["This child is your disease by nature... Children are parasites growing on their mother, no? She remains your disease. All she devours—nutrients, flesh, bones, marrow, blood— she'll draw back from you. This child is your life. Your life is her food."]
A spell demanding endless sacrifice from one person. A failed invention from a witch's immortality research.
["This spell's name... Yes. Maternal Love suits it."]
Thus, one girl and one plague demon truly became mother and daughter. By some witch's cruel joke.
["Name her yourself. A witch's name carries curses... Fitting for you, her mother."]
But the girl affirmed her fate. Shouldered the responsibility. The plague received a name.
["Noah. Rest... An intriguing name. Do you hope she'll be your resting place?"]
Noah. The world's most horrific plague demon named "Rest." What a joke.
And like that name, the girl who wouldn't die even stabbed survived to eternal rest. Not so eternal, it seems.
The unfortunate girl, Zara, taught Noah many things.
["Noah. Don't hit others."]
["Why?"]
["It hurts them."]
["I don't hurt when hit!"]
["Heh heh. If our Noah gets hit, I hurt in your place."]
Mostly about "things you mustn't do." Back then, Zara despised the horrific evil lurking in her heart. She feared not birthing a monster, but birthing something like herself.
In truth, Zara didn't love Noah. Hating herself, she couldn't love Noah. It was mere duty.
["Too many 'don'ts'... I don't get it."]
["It's okay. Learn slowly."]
And Noah felt it. Unloved. Knew Zara didn't love her.
That was why she did the forbidden— what she'd been taught not to do. A small act of defiance.
["Noah? Noah!"]
["Mom! Look! I'm glowing!"]
Flames. Noah blazed brightly within them. Zara had to stop her—but breathless, stolen by Noah, she couldn't.
All that life Noah lavishly wasted came from Zara.
Only when the flames grew hot and painful did Noah leap out in shock.
["Mom!"]
No answer.
["...Mom?"]
Cause and effect retribution. Just as Zara's sufferings lack reason, Noah's all have cause.
["..."]
This was Noah's original sin.
Some horrific sins cannot be forgiven the moment committed. One must regret them eternally.