Gate of Memoirs/Cradle to Grave

Forbidden is the rite, sacred the soul-
Dialogue
—It is upon us.—This is how it all ends.
Portrait 	Dialogue
Music: "Source Hall"	Music: "Source Hall"
 	
*What prodigious heat that should accompany so violent a burst seems to translate to an insidious burning at your very soul instead.
*As if each streak slithering its way across your skin trailed countless piercing needles in its wake.
 	
*Then, you see it: a vaguely feminine yet monstrous form, wreathed in fragments of molten rock and singed shell.
 	
*A tongue of flame licks its way from the jagged maw of her mouth as she focuses those glowing, hollow eyes on you.
*Ascha: ... ...
*Ascha: Yes.͡.͜.͡ yes͠, ͢I r̨e͞m̕...ember..͘.͞
 	
*You shudder at the discordant bent of her voice; how such a maw could attempt coherent sentences.
 	
*That slew of eldritch tones and accents overlaid upon each other resembled—
 	
*No. You shake your head, and steel your mind against the insidious terror that threatens to overtake your sanity.
*This entity is an abomination born from consumed souls and beings.
*Like the Orebus Revenants Giselle once told you about, but in flesh.
*Whoever she—it—is, it is no longer Hypaea...
 	
*Or Inara, for that matter.
*The simulacrum's final stand was valiant, with all the haughty ire of a goddess of eld. Tsovinar.
 	
*And now, consumed by that hungry flame, had she too become part of this entity?
*You glance at the unfurling column of flame, black rock forming some semblance of a ghastly visage.
*How many others had fed the gestating creature within?
*Was Ascha even cognizant of such disjointed identities?
*You look down at Giselle, whose deathly pallor now resembles the brittle grey of the spaces where you were once prisoner.
*What had transpired in her final moments...?
Portrait 	Dialogue
Music: "Overcome" 	Music: "Overcome"
 	
*Giselle: Ugh...
 	
*S'eljah: Stubborn fool. You cling to blind hope as the rest of these pathetic creatures do.
*S'eljah: You have *forgotten* the truth of this existence.
*S'eljah: What tragedy it is to be so ruled by the poison called "life".
 	
*S'eljah: We were perfect.
 	
*Giselle: How could we be perfect if we never knew change...?
 	
*Giselle falls onto her back, and the Queen angrily withdraws her hand.
 	
*S'eljah: You dare...
 	
*Giselle: I dare, because I learned that eternal silence is a frightening fate.
*Giselle: I learned to speak their strange words. I learned to exist in this strange form they call a "human."
*Giselle: I set out...to observe them, as you do. Because I acted on what I believed was our instinct.
*Giselle: To seek. To watch. And to silence.
 	
*Giselle: But I found Grand Gaia and the Summoners' Hall...and .
*Giselle: And I found...me.
*Giselle: That's when I realised I had become my own person. Not a mere "Hound" or part of the Queen.
*Giselle: I am Giselle Tyndalos...and that is the only thing that will never change.
 	
*Kranus seems oddly pensive as it stares at the unmoving form of Giselle.
*You wonder if it understands Giselle's sacrifice, or if like all things, it was merely convenient...
 	
*Ascha: Kk̀k̵h̕.͘.. Khhrr̀r͏rg͟gh̶...
*Ascha: .̵.͏.͘ ̧..͟.̨!
 	
*The creature surges forth with explosive force.
*You manage to evade in time, but turn and come face to face with those unsettling eyes.
 	
*Ascha gurgles in delight, and takes a shuddering breath before her next sentence catches you off-guard.
Music: "Dead God's Law"	Music: "Dead God's Law"
 	
*A surprisingly eloquent lilt.
 	
*Ascha: You̡ seem ss͝ss̛ur̛p̢ri̢sed̸......
*Ascha: Maybe you r͜em̀e̢ḿb͠e͏r̀...as well?
 	
*The sinuous column of flame with its earthen mask shudders, like a corrupted facsimile of...Vishap.
*You can feel your mind slowly unravelling.
Portrait	Dialogue
 	
*Hadn't you experienced that before when you first perceived Hypaea?
*To be slowly consumed from the inside out—grey and brittle and—
 	
*S'eljah: Enough of this farce.
 	
*S'eljah: To me, Devourer. And we shall deal with this rabble...
*S'eljah: Condemn them to nothingness, and purify their pitiful existence!
 	
*Ascha: Silence,͏ ͡d͜e͜b̵r̕is͜.
 	
*There is a pause before Ascha tilts her head away from the Queen and smiles at you.
*You think you catch a flash of the Queen's indignant frown, but force yourself to keep your gaze on this...thing.
 	
*Ascha: Hey...
*Ascha: ...What is your ẁo̵ŗl͞d̀ like?
 	
*Ascha: What is it like to believe you could accompany me—thát̶ ̡gi͞rl—for so long, watching, w̛ai̶ti͡ńg͏...
 	
*Ascha: And think y͏our̛sȩlf͡... Your w̴o̶ŕl̕d͞, somehow... Şáfe͢?
*Ascha: No matter. You must have a good ręa͘s͝ǫn. But I will f͢i̢n̕d͘ it, regardless.
 	
*Ascha: Oh, tr͞u͠śt ̧ me: I will.
*Ascha: We can start...n̸̛͠òw͘͡.