"This is something that happened long ago, in a small and narrow world."
"This absurd incident occurred in a nameless village."
"I don't know how twisted their doctrine was. Nor do I know why they came up with such an idea. Perhaps they simply wanted to live a life both pure and upright, based on their teachings—revering humanity's goodness while upholding the righteous life of light."
Sitting atop a stone platform, the speaking 'shadow' carried a tone full of ridicule and cynicism, like a delinquent youth who always wore a mocking smile.
"For them, poor and isolated from the outside world, prayer had already become part of life. Thus, existing apart from humanity, they began to harbor other ideas."
"The people of that village sincerely hoped that everyone in the world could live in harmony. They wanted all humanity to be freed from worthless malice, so they could live pure and upright lives."
"But that was impossible. Humans cannot live lives that are only pure and upright without being tainted by malice. Malice lurks in desire, always seeking to break free from the restraints of morality and rules. Evil exists from the very beginning. To sever evil, one must rely on a certain method. So—this was the method they carried out."
"Not only for their own narrow world, but also as a way to save all humanity. Yet demanding everyone in the world to do good was too difficult."
"However, proving the existence of goodness to all humanity was something that could be done. …As long as there was one person, just one person, who monopolized all the evil in the world, then the rest would be unable to commit evil deeds. They wholeheartedly believed in this foolish idea as if it were childishly simple."
"Then, a young man was chosen as the living sacrifice. They captured him, carved onto him every word of curse against humanity, forced upon him all sins they knew of. All evil deeds were to be borne by him. In this way, all disputes between good and evil would come to an end. Under the wishes of all 'good,' in this tiny world, there finally existed 'a being' who became the ultimate evil."
"'Good' cursed him from the depths of their hearts, insulted him, feared him, and yet worshiped him. 'Good' was, no matter what, pure and upright. Since all sin had already been placed on a bearer, no matter what 'good' did, it was still considered good."
"Pfft~ could there really be someone more foolish than me?"
A mocking laugh from somewhere broke the rhythm of the 'shadow's' storytelling. Yet this pitch-black 'existence' remained unfazed, continuing without pause.
"Clinging to such a twisted belief, they truly believed this approach would benefit the rest of the world. To prove humanity's goodness, they continuously tormented a young man until he went mad. No—he could not be killed until his lifespan ran out. Otherwise, the 'good' who killed 'evil' would have to select another substitute for 'evil' among themselves. Undoubtedly, the one who slew 'evil' would be the most fitting choice."
"And so, the boy burdened with all sins finally gained a non-human name—Angra Mainyu. He became the enemy of mankind in that little world, his remaining life filled only with endless slaughter and hatred."
The pitch-black figure paused for a moment. These events were so ancient that even he had to ponder repeatedly to recall the details. Though the past was long gone, he paradoxically could not forget it, and that very 'evil' had continued to persist alongside the memory until the present.
"During that process, I don't know if the young man truly became a demon, or if it was only that the villagers believed him to be one. They both hated and feared him, and while they used him as proof of humanity's goodness in the world, they also worshiped him as their so-called 'savior.'"
"They believed that since there existed a vessel bearing all evil, everyone could be saved. As long as that 'evil' still lived, no matter how great the sins humans committed, they could be pardoned. All the World's Evil absurdly became a license for 'pure and upright' absolution. Under such a ludicrous logic, in the end, he became the supreme hero in the eyes of the villagers."
The story reached a pause, and the shadow telling it turned its red-tattooed face toward a certain direction.
There, in a pure white independent space untouchable even by the murk of this world's evil, black and white were divided by a rift in space sharp as a blade.
That was the boundary line known as the realm.
The place where the shadow stood was a darkness like an 'eternal night,' while on the other side lay what could be called the paradise pursued by those so-called 'good.'
So he thought, and the corner of his twisted mouth let out a mocking laugh.
Suddenly, a strange voice resounded in the darkness.
"Then, this so-called Evil of This World… was his fate voluntary, or was it forced upon him?"
The shadow froze. This voice was not the same inorganic yet lively laugh heard earlier.
It was unmistakably a woman's voice.
—A tone he had never heard before he was imprisoned atop a mountain by those who called themselves 'good,' when they gouged out his right eye, severed his limbs, and continuously tortured him with contempt as the embodiment of absolute evil.
It was not that this cold and ethereal voice was particularly moving. Rather, it was because the voice carried something else—'equality.'
For this was a question no one had ever asked him. Not the ones who personally forged him into a 'demon,' nor those who had been devoured by the mire he himself had become.
Within their hearts was only the joy of securing a future never tainted by sin, and the fear of facing their vanishing fates and forgotten futures. Never once had anyone thought of the 'Evil of This World': whether such a role was of his own will.
As though his birth and his deeds alike were a matter of course, as if everything had been predetermined, defined by rules.
As if pollution, devouring, destruction, corruption, chaos—these despised words and emotions were destined to accompany evil, and evil itself was appointed by good.
So when that boy, chosen as the [Evil Threatening the Goodness of the Villagers], was branded a demon… when his mutilated body was bound atop the mountain… before the red glow of sunset fell upon his fading frame, he had already tasted all the suffering humanity could inflict.
Yet in that process, he also truly beheld the goodness of humanity: the young girl who secretly brought him porridge at dawn, the elder who fainted while pondering the village's fate at dusk, and the men and women who toiled in the fields day after day to sustain life.
Thus, the shadow tsk'ed, turning his head away without answering the ethereal woman's question. His gaze returned instead to the one patch of white that existed within the entire darkness beneath him.
That was the treasure belonging to the youth who bore All the World's Evil—the last remaining color amid a mire of hatred, collapse, resentment, and rage spanning a thousand years. It was his final attachment, found after transcending the constraints of flesh and surveying the world with a more detached spirit.
—Its name was [The Last Fragment].
Then, the white light walked toward him.
It was a white radiance in the shape of a human. Flowing behind it was waist-length hair black as satin, wrapping the girl's light-reflecting body like a curtain dividing good and evil.
Her hand easily crossed the boundary of black and white, plunging into the surrounding darkness. From the endless murk she tore away a portion, and then, with a flash of blue light upon her hand, the rebellious black mire stilled obediently and reshaped into a splendid black kimono traced with golden patterns, adorning her figure.
After this, a pair of organs resembling eyes slowly appeared upon her head. Within those radiant golden pupils, dazzling like the starry sky, Angra Mainyu seemed to glimpse an illusion.
He beheld the end of all things—the conclusion of every heroic epic in myth, every entangled love and hatred of poetry, every glorious achievement recorded in history. All of it, within those eyes, would ultimately fade to nothing.
All that takes form shall return to emptiness, and all sins shall eventually be purged.
And all beings shall bear the karma of their actions, before reaching the far shore. As the light dispersed, Angra Mainyu at last beheld the true face of the one before him.
It was a young girl, and at once an unparalleled beauty favored by heaven and earth alike.
As with all words that falter before soul-shaking art, as with all artistry that fails to equal nature's majesty, this was beauty of an entirely different realm.
Of course, she was not perfect. Yet even the most critical painter would only wish for less cold gray in the corner of her eyes and brows, and even the harshest designer would only hope for fewer mismatched accents upon her hands.
She was a muse that could drive artists mad, a siren to make sailors forsake reason, a Helen to ignite wars, and the purest yet dirtiest dream buried in every heart.
Without any deliberate action, she simply stood before the shadow, naturally, her head slightly lowered as she gazed into the eyes of All the World's Evil. On her right wrist gleamed a bracelet inlaid with three gems of differing colors.
Her radiance shone upon All the World's Evil, stirring within the demon-shadow an absurd intuition—perhaps this girl before him was the salvation he had waited for across a thousand years as All the World's Evil.