The battlefield was a graveyard.
Arthur struggled to rise from the rubble, Galahad's spectral armor cracked and fading beside him.
Across the ruined square, Sin's stitched face twisted in mock disappointment as his spider like limbs retracted back into his human flesh.
"You hatred is weak, it lacks the wrath natural you allowed within your heart?" he crooned, golden scripture pulsing across his skin, "Where is the fire that should consume me?"
A shadow blotted out the sun.
The air itself screamed as Miles Wyrm erupted from the ground, its form bloated with rage.
Dozens of shadow hands lashed out like whips, smashing buildings to dust as it wailed:
"WHO HURT YOU! WHO HURT YOUUUU!"
Arthur barely had time to raise his arms before the Wyrm's maw split open before a sonic cannon was blasted towards him.
The concussive blast sent him flying through three buildings before Galahad's fading strength cushioned the impact.
Blood filled Arthur's mouth as he watched the Wyrm turn on Sin, its hollow eyes burning with mindless fury.
Sin sighed, his mouth unhinging like a serpent's, "How tedious."
A sphere of golden light formed between his teeth before a beam of light went straight towards the Wyrm.
The Wyrm vaporized mid-roar.
Silence.
Then—
A crimson lance pierced Sin's shoulder.
The preacher staggered, his mocking smile freezing as he turned.
High atop a crumbling cathedral, Gwin stood motionless—her limbs jerked by marionette strings of blood with blood hands control her movement.
Her mask remained fixed in its eternal smile, but her eyes...
Her eyes were empty.
"Envy...?" Sin whispered, genuine shock cracking his voice.
A second blood-spike shot through his spine, then a dozen more erupted from within his body, pinning him like a grotesque butterfly, "You... defy your own nature... for them?"
Tears of euphoria streamed down his stitched cheeks as Gwin's puppet-body raised another trembling hand.
"Oh child..." His mouth distended unnaturally wide, "Let me SAVE YOU—" Then a golden wave hit Gwin square in the chest.
Her strings snapped.
Her body fell down and her lifeless head turned to direction where Arthur was standing.
For a moment, he forgot that this world was nothing but a simulation of what could happen out there.
---
Consciousness returned like a sledgehammer. Miles left arm hung limp, bones protruding through skin, but the sound of a child's whimpers cut through the pain.
He found her curled beneath collapsed shelves—a little girl no older than eight, her legs crushed under debris. Her yellow dress was stained red.
"H-Hey..." Miles winced as shadow tendrils gently lifted the rubble, "We're getting out of—"
"P-Please..." She clutched his shirt with bloodied fingers, "The bad man... he killed the lady..."
Miles didn't trust his voice to answer. The shadows coiled around them both as he stood, the girl secured tightly against his back.
One thought propelled him forward:
Get her out.
Get her out.
GET HER OUT.
---
The preacher knelt beside Gwin's body, his mutilated hands clasped in prayer.
"May the Lord welcome you to—"
He felt Arthur presence from behind.
Arthur sat slumped on a broken pillar, his left hand pressed against his face. His arms were trembling as his right eye stared at Gwin lifeless body.
"I'm glad..." His voice was frighteningly calm, "...this is just a simulation. But I'm scared to admit that this will be something, I will have to get used to seeing."
Sin's breath hitched. The aura around Arthur wasn't burning red anymore.
It was pale. Translucent. Infinite.
"Serenity...?" The preacher trembled with awe, "You... you've touched the door—"
Arthur looked up.
His left eye pulsed with an infinite symbol.
Sin's world ended.
For eternal second, the Messenger of Salvation stared into Death Door and understood true judgment.
Arthur let Sin see himself, in a peaceful world with law and order that oppress Sins and worship Virtues.
Then Arthur's fist, wreathed in ghostly blue flame, punched clean through his chest, "That's the only paradise you will get, because hell will forever be your true domain."
---
Miles blinked as the sterile white walls materialized around them. His arm was intact. The girl was gone, "Is it—"
The words died in his throat.
Across the room, Arthur had Gwin in a soft hug, her face tomato-red as she flailed uselessly, "A-Arthur?! When did you—"
"Shut up," Arthur muttered, his voice muffled against Gwin's hair, "Just... shut up."
Gwin's flailing slowed. Then, very carefully, her arms wrapped around his back.
They didn't see his face but Arthur was far more determined then before. When saw Gwin died, when he realised that it was still a simulation.
He told himself that, no matter what. He must not make that simulation outcome become reality.