With Cecilia secured—and, through her, an entourage of unparalleled powerhouses now within his grasp—the next phase crystallized clearly in Otto's mind: cripple the godlike Kevin, rally every conceivable ally, and confront the Herrscher of Finality.
This had been his foundational roadmap ever since transmigrating and claiming his golden finger.
Kevin's Stigmata Project alone ensured they would remain irreconcilable foes.
For an ordinary soul, letting another bear the burden against Honkai while drifting through a carefree dream might suffice.
But for him—the Overseer—both personal ambition and the survival of modern civilization demanded he seize that plan.
In essence: strip Kevin of any capacity to defy him.
If anyone was to orchestrate a Stigmata Project, it would be Otto Apocalypse, wielding absolute dominion.
Only as a final recourse—should every other path collapse—would he stage a "surrender" along those lines. No haste required.
In summary: as long as Kevin pursued the Stigmata Project, he stood as Otto's greatest adversary, second only to Finality itself.
Any reluctance to eliminate that zealot stemmed solely from Otto's intent to preserve him as a scapegoat in the endgame.
To weaken Kevin, World Serpent must suffer first—the organization hoarding the Previous Era's vast knowledge legacy, far eclipsing Schicksal in research prowess.
World Serpent was Schicksal's true nemesis, beyond Honkai itself.
—What? Anti-Entropy? Wasn't that merely a future St. Freya—a rebellious offshoot throwing tantrums?
When had a superior ever needed to eradicate subordinates for mere discontent?
Naturally, one extracts every drop of value first, then shepherds them toward a more profound demise—or, if feasible, spares them. Living assets brimmed with exploitable potential.
Schicksal scarcely bothered vilifying these "foes" in Valkyrie training. In the era of Kolosten, even Durandal dismissed them as impostors or mere clones.
Anti-Entropy hardly qualified as an enemy—merely an employee to be wrung dry.
World Serpent was the genuine threat.
Thus, to unravel that Previous-Era-worshipping cabal, he must first unearth them, comprehend them… until, at last… devour them whole.
In the original timeline, they emerged on their own terms, deliberately unveiling themselves.
That served no purpose for Schicksal.
Now… he would claim the initiative, rip away the shroud from this enigmatic faction, and then… purge them utterly.
Speaking of which—Gray Serpent would make quite the morsel. Does Gray Serpent even exist at this juncture?
"Pay particular heed to the term 'Schicksal Pharmaceuticals,'" Otto instructed, drawing upon game lore and manga fragments concerning World Serpent. "Adam Ruani is another pivotal name. Both link directly to the organization."
Amber yearned to inquire how the Overseer possessed such intimate knowledge of a shadowy cabal while sequestered for days immersed in Kallen Fantasy, allowing continental paperwork to avalanche—but recalling this was Otto Apocalypse, all curiosity dissolved into reverent assent.
"Yes, Lord Overseer."
Near-omnipotence was the unwavering creed Schicksal held toward him, and Amber was no outlier.
Even as his closest secretary, stripped of much mystery and distance, she clung to that faith unyieldingly.
If he decreed it, it would come to pass.
In that vein, every member of Schicksal was, at heart, an Otto devotee.
"Anything further?"
"Nothing for the moment," Amber replied, lifting her gaze in thought—only to swiftly lower it again. She had glimpsed Otto and Cecilia's intertwined fingers. "That is all. Enjoy your meal, Lord Overseer."
She withdrew, sealing the door softly behind her.
Otto settled at the desk and released Cecilia's hand.
The woman curled her fingertips, rubbing them gently in her palm, savoring the lingering warmth. A faint reluctance stirred within her heart.
Otto portioned their plates, uncorked the red wine, filled both glasses to the brim, and slid one toward Cecilia. His lips curved in quiet amusement.
"Come. To your rebirth."
Cecilia accepted it with care, clinking gently against his. She stole furtive glances at his motions, observed him drain his glass, and mirrored the gesture.
"Cough cough… mm…"
One glass emptied, Cecilia couldn't suppress a delicate frown.
Otto watched her reaction, his smile deepening.
How could he not know red wine was typically savored in sips? Filling the glass had been pure mischief on his part.
A subtle flush bloomed across porcelain cheeks—one of a woman's most enchanting instants.
Otto beheld the warm glow creep from Cecilia's fragrant cheeks to her earlobes, ripples shimmering in her starry eyes. Utterly mesmerizing.
As a certain scribe once penned: truth is scarce in this world; a woman's blush conveys more than volumes of dialogue.
He shook his head, forcibly dispelling the wine's haze and creeping drowsiness.
Damage one thousand enemies, wound eight hundred oneself—classic.
Yet utterly worthwhile.
"Eat." He extended her utensils.
"Mm."
That quantity posed no challenge to an S-rank Valkyrie. Cecilia swiftly composed herself, accepted the silverware, and began dining with earnest grace.
Seeing her manage admirably, Otto bowed his head, casually slicing into his steak, then refilled his glass. He savored the exquisite vintage, eyes drifting shut.
So much upheaval in mere hours… truly surreal…
Lost in reverie, Otto scarcely noted time's passage. When his eyes reopened, Cecilia had finished. Her cyan gaze fixed upon him, blank yet inscrutable.
"Sated?"
"Mostly."
"Then let us continue our stroll. Amber will tend to this."
"Okay."
Otto retrieved paper and pen from the desk, dashed a swift note, then naturally hooked Cecilia's pinky once more. She rose with his gentle tug.
"Come. A walk to aid digestion."
…
Amber eased open the office door and approached the makeshift dining table. One plate gleamed spotless; the other bore only the remnants of steak.
She knew the Overseer no longer required sustenance and offered no remark on the waste—only a fleeting, indefinable emotion flickered in her eyes.
As though… relieved for that man.
A note rested upon the table. She lifted it.
"Red wine is truly fine—it merely craves variety. Pouring it out is a grand, majestic rite of passage, a transmission steeped in occult tradition. You will comprehend in time. —Otto Apocalypse"
Amber: …
Lord Overseer must harbor profound intent.
…
The pair departed the office. Streetlamps now cast their glow; Schicksal shimmered bright as day beneath the velvet night.
Yet no nightlife stirred here. Daytime already felt sparse; evening descended into deeper hush. Most Valkyries stood vigilant at branches or clashed against simulated Honkai beasts in training halls.
Those at rest existed, but idlers were scarce—save perhaps low-rank D-class logistics personnel.
After all, their drive was survival incarnate.
Otto and Cecilia wandered silent paths in companionable quiet.
Only upon reaching the residence where Cecilia had bathed did they pause.
The man lifted his gaze to the star-strewn vault, exhaling long and slow, helplessness softening his eyes.
"Bianca Hollander Ataegina. You have shadowed us the entire way. What detains you from approaching? That hesitance… is unlike you."