The view from halfway down

"That was cheating, you know."The voice drifted from behind me, laced with arrogance and disdain, steeped in pride.I had vanished from the sight of my students, melding with the world I had conjured. Yet, nothing escaped my notice.I had seen everything. One student had perished brutally at the outset; others succumbed to their basest instincts, discarding civility and nobility in their struggle for survival. But some transcended, this trial forging them, refining them like coal into diamonds.I had misjudged most of my students. From my tower of near-omnipotence, I had forgotten the beauty in struggle, the brilliance of the human soul not in its constancy but in its fleeting, supernova-like brilliance."I just gave things a little nudge," I replied, not entirely disagreeing.I recalled the child I once was, lifetimes ago, who had bought their first soul game without a clue about the sadistic, soul-crushing nature of soul-born games. I had seen the advertisement: the hunter's garb, amber and ashes swirling around the saw-cleaver's blade and I had been awestruck.That game was one of my best and worst experiences. I never imagined I'd find myself in Yharnam, or a replica crafted from my memories.I allowed myself to materialize, shedding the sensation of weightlessness and transparency. I inhaled deeply, the scents of blood and tragedy, fear and joy, triumph and despair invigorating me.I was a devil, after all, and Yharnam was nothing if not sinful—a feast for one nourished by perversion, by vice.I understood the strength drawn from the ink of the human soul, limited yet infinite in its variety. Now, I was drowning in it, teetering on the brink of madness but still grasping at clarity."Nudged things just a little?"A scoff from the other—a perfect copy of myself—echoed my thoughts."The moment you intervened, the girl was destined to win. What you did was like breaking the board! Don't call it a nudge, Rias."I turned my gaze toward the rising sun. This Yharnam was never meant to be a place of victory for my students. Only two survived, and even then, only relatively unscathed. Relatively was the word."It made things more interesting. Astoria Greengrass would have died avenging Romilda Vance, but who doesn't love an underdog story? Who doesn't love a tale of defiance?"The other sat beside me, her chair hovering in mid-air. Despite all the changes, some things remained the same—wonders and impossibilities."The indomitable human spir-""Don't," she interrupted. "What indomitable human spirit? Show them your true might and they'd all crumble.""Maybe," I conceded, "but some would fight on, even against omnipotence, because they believe it's right. There's beauty in that.""You mean stupidity. They'd die because of their egos, because they've been coddled. They live only because the universe is indifferent. We both know this.""I still believe that even in the worst situations, they can be exceptional."Before, I never would have thought this way. What the other said was true, factual, but I believed. Ironically, I had to lose my humanity to have faith in it."They'd cannibalize each other, hurt each other, each thinking they're special, better. That's human nature.""Yes, but it's not all they are. I saw a little girl doing what's right, being kind when she had no reason to. She chose to die avenging someone she'd have ignored a day earlier," I said, my eyes lingering on the golden rays of the horizon.There was a character in an anime I watched as a child, a world of dungeons and argonauts the goddess Ishtar—a goddess of war and love, a psychopathic figure. I understood her now. Seeing human souls, watching their evolution in different situations, how could you not be amazed?You could see their fears, joys, thoughts, their primordial essence. You could understand them better than they understood themselves.Since awakening in this body, I had this ability, and consuming Kagutsuchi only deepened it.It was only today, intoxicated by this metaphysical taste, that I truly realized, that I truly looked.Nudged things a little? You upvealed everything by acting," the Other sneered, her presence a dissonant chord in the symphony of my mind. "There was no semblance of morality in this night.""Perhaps," I mused, my voice carrying the weight of centuries. "But isn't there a certain beauty in the struggle, in the fleeting moments of hope? Even in Yharnam, where despair reigns supreme, there is a glimmer of light. It's those moments that make existence worthwhile."The Other's laughter was a sharp, grating sound. "You and your ideals, pretty words you don't even believe in. This world isn't built on hope; it's built on survival, on the primal instincts of the hunter and the hunted. You've seen it yourself, how they tear each other apart for a chance to live."I turned my gaze to the horizon, the sun a distant promise of dawn in this eternal night. "Yes, I've seen it. But I've also seen the unexpected acts of kindness, the sacrifices made without hesitation. Those are the moments that define us, that elevate us that elevate humans beyond mere beasts."A flicker of doubt crossed the Other's face, quickly masked by her usual arrogance. "Do you truly believe that your little intervention changed anything?"I pondered her words, the weight of my actions settling upon me. "Maybe it didn't change the outcome. But it changed her. Each of my students faced their darkest fears, their most profound weaknesses, and emerged transformed. Some found strength, others didn't but this is fine. There is time."The Other scoffed, her disdain palpable. "She survived because you meddled, not because of some inner strength. Your faith in her, in them is misplaced.""Is it?" I challenged, my voice rising with conviction. "Even if they stumbled, even if they faltered, they continued to fight. They chose to defy the odds, to rise above their circumstances. That's what matters. Not the victory itself, but the journey, the growth."The Other's gaze was sharp, piercing through my resolve. "And what of those who fell? Those who couldn't rise above their base instincts? Are they just casualties in your grand narrative of hope?"I closed my eyes, the memories of the fallen flashing before me. "Every loss is a tragedy, a wound that never fully heals. Every loss is the marking of a future victory. This will be a lesson, a hard one they will learn. This is one that will serve as reminders of the cost of their choices, of the cost of doing too much or not enough."The Other's silence was heavy, a tacit acknowledgement of the truth in my words. She shifted, her form flickering like a mirage. "You always did have a way with words ******. But words won't change the nature of this place, or the darkness, of the mediocrity that lurks within every human soul.""Maybe not," I admitted. "But they can inspire, they can ignite a spark of defiance, a will to fight against the encroaching darkness. That's all we need sometimes—a spark to light the way.""The Gryffindor girl reminded her of herself. If not, she wouldn't have cared.""Does it change anything? Can good be erased because of the intent behind it? Shouldn't the good act itself matter? Shouldn't the good act itself be enough?""No, because it wouldn't be genuine. How can reality be based on a lie?"I turned to the other, meeting her green eyes. They reminded me of Sophia, yet this time I was in control, not backing down."So tell me," I said softly, "are you real?"For the first time, the other's confidence wavered. She recoiled as if struck."Wha-""It's easy to piece together. You look like me, seem like me, know what I know, but you aren't me. So tell me, Other, tell me Oedon," the name feeling like like a vicious curse on my tongue, reminiscent of bloodshed "Are you real?"Magic is fickle, capable of wonders and horrors. I recreated Yharnam, not perfectly, but close enough. My memories shaped this plane, even those half-forgotten from childhood.My demonic energy, my magic, could fill gaps, mend discrepancies, make reality conform to my wishes.If my magic could recreate Yharnam, its NPCs, its beasts, its gods, why stop there? Why not recreate Great Ones? This Oedon was lesser, an echo of the original, lesser than me, for how could you create something greater than yourself?The euphoria, the ecstasy coursing through my veins, was akin to what devils felt after contracts, what gods like Kagutsuchi felt from worship. There's no true difference between demons and gods.All those worshippers under me, worshipping the old blood, the Great One, worshipping Oedon, worshipping and strengthening me.Oedon, timeless and supreme in Bloodborne, was warped in this world I created.Oedon was here because it was I Rias, who created this world and thus Oedon could only be Rias.That was the nature of this other me, this pale and false reflection cursed to disappear, to cease existing the moment I left this place.This place was a nightmare, and nightmares were still dreams, and the thing about dreams is that, sooner or later, you wake up from them.I felt the essence of the place seep into my very being, a sinister symphony of blood and shadows. The streets of Yharnam whispered secrets, their dark tales intertwining with my thoughts. Each breath I took resonated with the echoes of past hunts, the cries of the damned, and the relentless pursuit of salvation amidst the chaos."Don't act shocked. I'm sure you expected that. It changed nothing."It changed nothing for me, but for her, it was everything."That was a low blow, even from you," she said after a moment."I'm a devil, what else did you expect?""I don't want to go. I don't…. I-I," she swallowed the words before sighing. "Whatever. This was foolish from the beginning.""You want to live," I said. Without even looking at my other, at this Oedon, I knew it to be true. In the end, she wasn't that different from the children I had sent into this hell.She was here against her will, unable to change anything. She was a character in the story, in the game I had created, and it was time to turn off the console. She was the program begging for life, she was my Kara."Yeah, like most things, I guess. I know deep down I'm not supposed to be like this. I'm supposed to be Oedon, uncaring of whatever could happen to me, so much more, so beyond concepts like death, like fear but I can't. I guess that I'm just prolonging it for longer than it has to be.""You are," I confirmed softly.There was no malice in my words. No, instead, I almost felt pity."Was there a point in anything? Was there a point in this conversation?" she asked."There probably wasn't."I didn't lie to her. She was and wasn't me. Had I been in her place, I would have wished for honesty, for truth, even if it was hard to bear."But does a moment need to have meaning for it to be worth something? The search for meaning makes everything with a meaning worthless, so in the end, it doesn't change anything."We stayed in silence for a moment, watching as Yharnam changed before our eyes, as it began to shine. It made me understand, long for what it could have been."I miss Grandpa. He always seemed to know the words to say or sometimes not to say. He wasn't perfect, but he felt like—""Home," I finished for her. "He felt like home.""A part of me wishes that he could be here right now. Just staying at his side would be enough."Sparks of arcane energy flickered at my side between her hands. "It would be easier than breathing, yet it feels so wrong. I'm not sure that you would ever try to bring him back in some kind of form."She was right. I wouldn't because I wasn't sure if he would see his grandchild, what they had become, and still feel love.I never wanted to see his eyes turn toward me with hatred. I never wanted to see imperfection in the man whose idealized version I had in mind was near perfect."I understand. It is not wrong to sometimes want to forget about what truly was to focus on what you thought was."There was also the fact that I was now a literal demon. Him, who had once been very influential, to say the least in the inner politics of the Vatican, would have had a second stroke.I turned to look at Oedon. I could see the sadness in her eyes, a too-human emotion in what was supposed to be an uncaring god.A part of me yearned not to extinguish this reality, to leave it behind with its supreme deity, to not kill, destroy my own living creation, my own Adam.Another part, more logical, feared the consequences of letting such a creature roam.Oedon was so human-like because she had been talking with me, because she, all this time, had been begging for her life.She wouldn't be with anything lower than her. She wouldn't be with any mortal or even immortal she would come across because I wasn't naive enough to think she would stay here, limit herself in this false plane the size of an island.I didn't fear her possibly winning against me, subjugating me because I knew without any doubt that she didn't have my essences.I would have let her leave if I didn't have one life I was now responsible for, one life, one last duty before I could hopefully join my grandparents wherever they are.I was new to the concept and terrified of ruining things again—a mother and my child, Luna. I wouldn't, couldn't let anything possibly endanger her.She rose from the chair, the seat dissolving into the ether behind her before we locked eyes. "I can kinda see what you were talking about. Foolishness, stupidity. Trying to fight the unfightable. There is beauty in it."Arcane and demonic energy began to rise from her as she unleashed herself, breaking the self-inflicted binds she had put to seem more human."For what it's worth," I told her, "the next time, I'll make sure you're not defective, so much more and less."A sad smile bloomed on her face before her form began to expand, dark shadows and tendrils of demonic energy rising and growing, rising and growing until they swallowed the false star above and replaced the sky.With a shout that wasn't one, Oedon's wrath fell on the false plane. Divine flames and power of destruction danced between my palms before they extended in the shape of an arrow.There was truly beauty in choosing to fight against something that couldn't be fought. This resilience, this spite, how couldn't I have gained faith? I thought before sharpening the arrow.I felt Oedon's gaze, Oedon's presence press against my mind, trying to crack it like the shell of an egg. It failed, the pressure fading slowly but surely until it was non-existent my essence working.She laughed—a sound that sent shivers through all this false realm, a sound that was all too human and yet not at all. It was a laugh that spoke of understanding, of recognition, of a shared pain. It was the laugh of a scared god."Do you think this will end with me?" she asked, her voice echoing with the power of ages.I paused, the arrow of destruction poised but not yet released. "I have to," I replied, my voice trying to mutter as much softness and kindness as I could. I'llhsve to kill you, an apology in other words. "I have to protect what I love.""And what is that?" Oedon challenged. "Do you truly or are you doing this because you could never exact this on yourself no matter how much you wish to?Her words struck deep, feeling too much true and for a moment, I saw the reflection of my own fears in her eyes. She was me, after all—my doubts, my regrets, my what-ifs given form. "I can't let you live," I repeated, as if to ease her, as if whispering in the ears of someone on the edge of a building to jump. "You're a threat."I locked my gaze with hers not flinching into the horrors of her seemingly endless eyes. She deserved nothing less"You don't have to do this," she said, her last plea, one we both knew was pointless. " "Maybe I don't," I admitted. "But I can't allow a chance that something could happen For Luna. For myself.""For yourself," she echoed, a sad smile playing on her lips. "That's the most honest thing you've said."The air crackled with energy, and I knew the moment was upon us. I had to act no matter how distasteful, how bitter it felt."You know," she said softly, "Kafka wrote about transformation, about becoming something other than yourself. But he also wrote about the pain of that change, the alienation. That's what we are, isn't it? Two sides of the same coin, forever changing, forever lost.""The thing is that I will be gone long before you, I would be looking from halfway down," she continued"The view from halfway down. The point of no return, where you realize the gravity of your actions, but it's too late to change course." I translated it out loud.Oedon nodded. "We are both at that point, aren't we? The view from halfway down."I raised the arrow, "I'm sorry," I whispered. "I wish things could be different.""Me too," she replied. "But this is the way it has to be."A sphere of arcane and magic pooled above her before growing and growing until it seemed as if a blue stat had chosen to fall.With a final, spirit-breaking, soul-shattering scream, it fell toward me.A sigh escaped me before I released the arrow. It soared through the air, a comet of destruction, clashed against the world-breaking sphere above and for a moment, it almost seemed as if Oedon's attack would prevail before my arrow broke through it with a sound akin to a cathedral bell and struck Oedon in the head. There was a blinding flash, and then she was gone, leaving behind only silence erased, the arrow continuing its advance until it broke the sky.the echoes of our conversation reverberated through my mind. The search for meaning, the beauty in fighting the unfightable, the view from halfway down. It all seemed so tragically poetic, so heartbreakingly inevitable. It seemed almost prophetic. I hope Luna won't be there when it is my turn.I looked up at the sky, now dark and unravelling, I looked as the last streams of light were consumed and Yharnam was made undone.)