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With a knock that used the residual strength left in its body, the monkey hit the door to make its presence known.

As the door was opened, a pair of men dressed in uniforms as pale as the clouds vacant in this region showed up with swords in hand.

"...Whose there? Oh...that\'s Fai Meng, isn\'t it?"

One of the men realized in exasperation as he quickly sheathed his sword, kneeling down by the bloodied and bruised man as he placed two fingers on his neck.

Ba-dump...Ba-dump...

"How is he…?"

"Barely hanging on. We have to get him to the infirmary--quick. If he dies on our watch...I don\'t think the higher-ups will be too happy."

With urgency to his movements, the man with shorter, jet-black locks with frosted tips lifted the unconscious Outlander into his arms, beginning to retreat back inside the building.

"Wait...what about this monkey…? It brought him here, didn\'t it?"

The other man asked, looking at the small, golden-furred monkey as it seemed to resign the moment Fai was brought into their care; staring off at the sky, its essence began to unravel itself as golden particles floated off into the air.

"Huh…? Come on, you\'re a friend of his, aren\'t you? We\'ll patch you up too; we have spirit specialists here as well!"

Responding quietly with just a subtle shake of its head, the monkey seemed to smile before releasing a vibrant glow that momentarily blinded the men.

"Gah...huh--?"

Looking back at where the monkey stood, now standing tall was the proud divine spirit that possessed a human face, brandishing his golden fur--though all the same, his essence began to fade away.

"Take good care of him, you hear? That\'s an order from a god."

Carrying his sable, decorated pole over his shoulder, the golden-furred monkey\'s words prompted nods from the two guards.

"Good...well, this is it, Fai Meng. I had a helluva lot of fun in this second life; thank you for giving me the chance. It looks like you had some fun yourself--but, your journey doesn\'t end here, my friend. You still have a family you need to protect, don\'t you? Don\'t let them down. If you should blame yourself for my death, don\'t. But, if you do, then remember: every mistake is a lesson. Farewell, Fai Meng!"

Parting those words from his smiling mouth, Wukong smiled widely as the two guards holding the unconscious recipient of those words were left in silence for a moment before the exuberance of the Monkey King.

"...Do you want us to repeat those words when he wakes up?"

In response, Wukong simply shook his head, "He got it all, don\'t worry. Now, hurry up before he bleeds out!"

"R-right!"

Hurrying off into the depths of the seemingly boundless building, the two guards disappeared within the headquarters.

"Well, I did everything I could, Sanzang...it\'s time I resume my rest."

Looking up at the warm orange that filled the new morning, Wukong smiled softly before closing his eyes, relieving himself to his fate as only wind occupied the spot he stood by the next moment.

By the grace of the morning after the battle, Leon slowly opened his eyes with a few, tiresome blinks--having unknowingly fallen to slumber while riding upon the fleeting ship in the sky.

"Was it…?"

Looking to his side, he saw the blonde locks belonging to the breathless form of his comrade--a sight that answered his unfinished question harshly as tears once more returned to the rims of his eyes.

"It wasn\'t a dream…"

Sitting up, he propped his back against the railings of the miniature vessel, watching the morning clouds float gently in the brisk azure.

"We lost."

Exhaling, his breath came out in a cold mist, laced with the chilliness of the fresh beginning of a day. Sliding his gloves off of his fingers, he looked at his calloused hands before clenching them tightly; looking down at his black garments that were stained in crimson, and torn from battle.

I couldn\'t do anything. I was helpless. Powerless, he thought.

Running his hands over his worn face, his cold, yet warm fingertips grazed his skin before sliding into his oak brown locks, gripping them tightly as his expression began to falter.

"Manfred…"

It was only once the adrenaline faded and that the stillness of this empty, lonesome journey home set in that the bleak reality before him was realized.

The one, true friend he had in this lonely path had left him, and that was his new reality.

"Manfred…!"

Finally letting it all out, Leon screamed at the top of his lungs as only the heavens could listen in to the pained howls of the young man.

In the advent of dreams, reality showed itself; its dreadful, true state--on a path of heroism, anguish and death awaited.

On the eve of this somber morning, a night transpired that saw the end of dreams for some, and the ignition of ambition for others. Argonauts and Outlanders alike faced painful, bitter defeat, but most of all--it was Mastorn that for the first time in a long while--tasted failure.

Buried beneath the erasure enacted by Plan Cataclysm, the tide-changing, one-night war would go on to be only remembered by those who fought through it, and the upper-echelon of Mastorn itself; the death of those who fought on this battlefield remaining unrecognized.