Harbingers of Change

Chapter 29

In the ever-expanding Great Tomb, the eighth floor still kept its name amidst the changes. Considering that the floor had been redesigned, and built with the strongest beings the tomb could afford without risking a collapse to the floor itself, it was the safest place for battles to occur for those outside of it. That is if the word 'safest' could even apply to Milim trying to deal with her past and hopefully unblock her ability to grow.

Momonga and Milim stood in the heart of the arena, waiting for the preparations to be completed. Buku, Rubedo, and Pandora kept their distance, ready to drain the rampant energies from the surroundings once Nazarick's batteries overflowed with power. Pandora had even installed an additional dozen more artificial batteries beside him just for this occasion.

Additionally, Veldora, Albedo, and all eight world-enders had erected their strongest shields to contain whatever energy outbursts Milim would lash out with during her traumatic eruptions. Or in the worst-case scenario, they would strive to restrain her should she succumb to her stampede state. Lastly, Ramiris and Mare were present if the worst happened and Milim completely lost control, acting as moral support, and thus were stationed further away than the rest. They also happened to be the last lines of defense.

With a collective nod of readiness, Momonga addressed Milim once more as he began to harness his energies, "Let us begin."

For centuries, Milim had buried her memories so deep that mere conversation could no longer unearth them, having nearly completely forgotten them. She did remember some titbits that caused immense anger in the girl and led to the destruction of Momonga's office earlier. That said, the overall progress was slow and Milim was getting impatient, insisting Momonga tried to open the floodgates of her repressed traumatic memories directly instead. The Overlord had reluctantly agreed, even knowing it wasn't the best way to handle the situation. After all, offices could be rebuilt within hours by the dwarves and maids; the floors, however, required days of meticulous restoration by Ramiris.

Milim steeled herself for the worst, warning Momonga one final time. "If I hurt you, Mare won't forgive me, so you'll have to stop me if things go south. When I go on a stampede, I won't be able to control myself anymore." With both Ramiris and Mare confirming that her coming to terms with her buried traumas was needed for her to grow, she couldn't back out anymore, even if she dreaded the next few moments.

'I can do this. I am Milim Nava the Destroyer. I am not afraid. I am not afraid. I am not freaking afraid of my memories!' She was already tensing up. What little she remembered from time to time filled her with intense rage, sadness, and anxiety, so intense even the thought teetered her towards rampaging. For thousands of years, she had tried to forget her ancient past, and now, she was about to dive in headfirst with the help of Momonga and his subordinates.

"If you are unsure about this, we can take it slow and not use forceful memory recalls. The choice now and always will be yours alone. My role is to assist, not to dictate," Momonga stated. All his knowledge of what he was about to do came from some basic psychology books, and there was still the chance that he had misunderstood something, even if Omniscience assured him that he wouldn't fail. He wasn't a professional psychologist, after all.

"Do it!" Milim's eyes clenched shut, breath held in anticipation. The instant Momonga's touch graced her forehead, a deluge of memories flooded her consciousness, catapulting her back through the millennia.

She was but a small child once again. Blood painted the scene in macabre hues; her slain parents lay motionless. The group of assassins attacked her. Fear, confusion, then they were no more. A single scream from the depths of her being - and the killers and the castle were reduced to dust.

Her pleas for her parent's return echoed unanswered, 'Mommy, Daddy, where are you?' Desperation clawed at her as she begged, 'I'm scared! Please don't leave me! I'll be a good girl! Don't leave me!'

She remembered searching for them everywhere, teleporting around at random. Her cries for them pierced the silence for hours, hoping they would come back, but they did not return.

Then the night came. The darkness was her only companion. Then she saw them standing in front of her, blurry, ethereal, distant. Her father, the dragon, said something, yet she couldn't hear him. She screamed for him to pick her up. She screamed for her mother to cradle her. They didn't. They watched through the fog, as still as the rubble around her.

What little she understood from her father were words of resignation, the exact opposite of what Milim wanted to hear at that moment.

'It is too late. I've done what little I could. I longed for freedom. Forgive me, Milim. This world is yours now. Grow strong, be wise. My sisters will guide you.'

Her response was a torrent of tears and please, 'Mommy, Daddy, don't leave! I'll be a good girl! I promise!'

'I'm sorry. We hoped for more time together.' Her mother spoke softly, leaning forward. 'Your father and I knew we didn't have much time. I'm sorry we have to leave you. We did our best, my child.'

'Please stay! Don't leave! Don't leave me!' Her screams sounded through the silent night, futile as they were. The figures of her parents were fading before her eyes. She scrambled towards them; her tiny hand extended towards her creators.

The next thing she knew, she was before a woman with silver hair glaring down at her, her arms crossed as her aura, cold as the arctic winds, blasted her. 'You are not my responsibility! Leave!'

'Auntie! P-please!' She whimpered.

'Leave!' A feral scream scared her away, forcing her to flee southward. Velzard wouldn't even acknowledge her as family.

Then another woman's gaze bore down at her, fiery, like the blaze that had consumed her home. Her aura was burning and scorching beyond belief, forcing Milim to regenerate herself constantly.

'Milim, my dear, you are a dragon. You are invincible in this world your father forged,' she said, kneeling and stroking the youth's face.

'Auntie Velgrynd, I'm scared,' Milim whimpered, trying to embrace the woman despite the fear, only to be pushed away.

'Be courageous, young one. I cannot take you in. My husband, Rudra, cannot bear the sight of you. You remind him too much of your mother, his sister. Don't fear solitude. You're a dragon, your destiny is to rule, to dominate. I will watch over you, but from afar.'

That was the last she saw Velgrynd. She never came to visit, never gave more of her warmth to her. And Milim continually cried out for days, yet nobody came.

Her mother and father were gone for good, leaving her all alone in a world of unknowns and fears. No other relative cared enough to take her in, for one reason or another. Despite her young age, she understood that they didn't want her around. She was alone, truly alone for the first time since her conception.

But there was more - a truth she dared not face.

'I cannot stop. I must continue… I must,' The fear of the horrible truth was overwhelming, her power felt raging through the floor as she heard an… individual named Momonga inquiring if she wished to continue.

"Show me - now!" Milim's command sliced through the tense air, her resolve as sharp as the hiss that escaped her clenched teeth. She braced herself against the impending storm of truths that she had long denied.

Momonga hesitated, the weight of consequence heavy on his shoulders, "Are you certain? If you harbor something darker than what we've witnessed-"

"DO IT! I refuse to live in fear!' Milim shrieked, her eyes shut closed, reliving the abandonment of her entire family as the moments ticked on.

The skeletal finger met her brow once more, as cold as the emotions she knew the undead usually lacked. This time, no memories were surfacing from the past. This was something she knew instinctively but refused to believe, in constant denial of her past.

Somewhere deep within herself, she had always held the knowledge of what her father had done to escape the inevitable fate of a Creator God, of its ends that he wished to avoid. She was the tribute, a payment for her parents' freedom from the iron grip of destiny itself which even Gods couldn't escape from. She was made an incomplete deity so her parents could escape together, to escape the future her father feared for himself. A distraction they developed to fool fate itself for the rest of space-time.

Veldanava, her father, trapped in his undesirable fate, had discovered a workaround to live unshackled by the cruel destiny ahead of him in her existence. Her mother, Lucia, complicit in love, had chosen to follow her draconic mate no matter where he decided to go. They did shower her with affection for the short time they were together, but Milim couldn't help but question herself if any of it was even real. If they were so eager to make her the way they did, and for the reason they had, did they truly love her? Or was she nothing more than a means to an end, to avoid another end? One that she had been abandoned for?

Milim opened her eyes, knowing. They had left her for a reason. There was no accident in her past, no accidental death that had left her to fend for herself. She was the key to Veldenava's freedom, the instrument crafted to spare her parents from the doom that befell every Creator. They didn't birth her out of love, but out of necessity to avoid losing one another.

Anger rose, unshackled by her once-defiant mind and as endless as the power that was her birthright. It erupted from her, a maelstrom of fury directed at her very existence, at everything she represented, at everything she had been thrown away for. Parts of Momonga's outstretched hand disintegrated under the onslaught of her wrath, particles scattered by the tempest of her unleashed power, by the winds of raw energy that scorched everything around her. She didn't care. Hatred was all that encompassed her now.

"Milim!"

"I was a tool for them! I am a tool! I meant nothing to them!" She screamed, transforming into her natural form as her magic exploded around her. If she demanded for the universe to obey, it would, as she was the legacy of its architect!

"Milim! Look at me!" Momonga's voice was a beacon, striving to anchor her to the present as it had been moments before, to no avail.

"I am a tool! A nothing! This universe must end. I will destroy what he created! And then I will find and kill them both! They will pay for what they have done!" She roared, her aura completely engulfing all as she swore to end what had begun all those eons ago.

The hatred was a burden too grievous to bear. She resolved to end it all - to seek out her detested creators and exact her vengeance. They had fashioned her as a sacrificial offering, flawed and forsaken, broken and incomplete. She would find them, and she would enact her retribution.

Yet, amidst the fury, a voice of unfeeling reason pierced through, "Milim, you are not a mere tool. You are the master of your destiny. Do not let the will of your parents define you! You are not alone."

"Not alone?" The question hung in the air, a fragile thread amidst the fury. At once, other memories surfaced.

She recalled her wrath, her vows to annihilate all that stood in her way. Fighting - she was fighting endlessly. Guy! She was facing Guy. Then, amidst the chaos, a woman tenderly embraced her. Mother! No… it was someone else. She remembered the blonde locks over her face. The warmth of a hug. Ramiris, it was Ramiris. The realization dawned - she was not abandoned.

"Momonga, I can't. I can't-" Milim's voice broke, "I was made a tool! They left me on purpose!"

"You can hate your parents for what they did, but don't let that hatred consume you!" Momonga shouted over the roaring winds, his form breaking and repairing constantly as he motioned for someone else to speak.

{ M-Milim, you aren't alone! You have me. I am near. I won't leave you! } It was Mare's soothing voice that invaded her mind.

'Mare! He knows what I am now. He will…he didn't leave. He is still here! Momonga didn't leave. But he knows!' Milim's gaze lifted to meet the imposing undead's.

"I…I can't stop. I must destroy…they should pay. They…"

"You are stronger than that. You can conquer this anger. Milim, I believe in you. You are not alone. Let us help you. Let me guide you. I will personally take the responsibility of raising you, to do what they did not," Momonga reached forward, grazing her shoulder. "I will be there for you, and so will the others"

Tranquility attempted to pierce her anguish. But it wasn't enough, her aura rampaging as it sought to extinguish what had been left behind.

"I can't. I-I need to…I…" Milim's vision blurred with tears, her words faltering as she did so. How could she go on knowing she was made as a tool, and forever would be, no matter what she did? Part of her always knew there was something wrong with her, but her conscious mind couldn't take it - refused to take it, instead choosing to bury the painful truth deep within herself to avoid so long as she lived.

'I am nothing but an instrument of convenience. If my own parents lacked compassion, how could others possibly care? They are all fixated on this damn world. Momonga, Guy, all of them.'

The skeletal hand on her shoulder was unyielding, no matter how quickly or often she burned it away into nothingness. The successive waves of calmness began to temper her rage and pain as she focused on the hand, her connection to something more than just being a tool.

"Their intentions do not define anyone. You have the power to choose your own fate. Let me lead, and let others help you. Your parent's decisions do not dictate your worth!"

"I…they discarded me. Was I unworthy of their effort?" Milim's voice trembled with vulnerability.

{ You are worth the effort. Milim, grant me the chance, and I will assume the role of a father to you. You owe nothing in return. Just permit me this opportunity. } Momonga now spoke in her head, resonating with decisiveness.

"You will leave just like everyone else, you will-" she protested, fear lacing her words.

But then, she felt Momonga take hold of her, just like Ramiris had done so during her previous loss of control when she had sought to exterminate what was left behind. His embrace was cold and hard, reminding her of the logic of his words. The stark clasp of his pristine rib cage was a tangible assurance - she was not truly forsaken just yet.

"You… don't know what you are dealing with," Milim mumbled through tears that didn't stop flowing no matter what she did.

"It's of no consequence. You are no longer isolated as you were," Momonga spoke softly. The Overlord didn't let go of her, undeterred by the destructive aura that sought to erode his very being. Just like Ramiris back then, he refused to release her.

A foreign scene unfolded in Milim's mind - not a recollection of her own, but an intrusive memory that clearly belonged to someone else, somehow. A boy stood in a dim kitchen, looming over a woman's lifeless body, with the remnants of a meal strewn across the floor. She couldn't tell who she was seeing, but there was a connection between him and Momonga, unclear yet palpable. Maybe someone he took care of in the past? The lingering regret permeating the scene told her enough. Momonga was regretful of something regarding this boy and the deceased woman.

'Was he human once? Is this him? No, that cannot be. Is this someone who reflects his regrets? He sees me in that boy, of the grief over the past. He truly desires to help me,' She picked up on some emotions, but it was hard to decipher the whole meaning of what she saw except that it was intense. Indeed, the emotional intensity of the vision was enough to momentarily eclipse her own pain, prompting a cascade of thoughts.

'I want to stay with my friends. I don't want to lose more. Can Momonga prevent me from losing more? Mare… I want to be with him forever. Should I trust him? I know he is sincere. Argh, I shouldn't be this weak. I am Milim Nava!'

"Of course, I'm not alone. And should any of you dare to abandon me, I'll ensure you regret it," she declared, her usual brash manner resurfacing, as she tightly hugged the skeletal frame.

"Then we better not leave you," Momonga stated, humor evident in his tone.

As her rage subsided, the extent of her destruction became apparent. The eighth floor had probably been rendered null. "H-how badly did I damage Nazarick?" she quietly inquired, fear seeping into her voice.

"We'll manage. We have ample energy for it now. However, I'd prefer if such renovations were less frequent," Momonga responded with a small chuckle.

Milim was let go, immediately surveying her surroundings. There was nothing left standing. The once-decorated floor lay in ruins, with bare stone and fractured walls being all that remained. The artificial sky had vanished, leaving gaping holes of darkness where light was previously prevalent. Ramiris was already hard at work patching them up, while Buku was providing the gathered energy to do the emergency fixes. Veldora and Mare offered silent support, with the former giving her a thumbs up and the latter offering her a reassuring smile. For once, there was no one screaming at her for destroying things.

"Yeah, I think I overdid it a bit. Was anyone…"

"No one was seriously hurt. We evacuated the nearest floors."

"That's a relief. Are we done with, you know, my memories?"

"Not quite. The real work begins now. You need to fully accept who you are and move forward, bit by bit. I'll guide you to the best of my ability, but the path is yours to walk," Momonga assured her, cautiously patting her head.

"I'll try. But don't expect me to start calling you 'Dad'. Got it?" she retorted, gripping the skeletal hand with a bit too much force, though not outright pushing it away.

"We shall see. Alternatively, Veldora stands ready to adopt you if you don't see me as a good candidate for a father figure," Momonga said dryly.

"As if Uncle would know what to do with me," Milim laughed, seemingly returning to her usual cheerfulness. "I suppose I'll allow you the chance to prove yourself."

If nothing else, she had finally acknowledged what her parents had done, confronting a pain deeper than any she had ever known. The path to true growth remained uncertain, but as the sting of her past receded, she felt an unexpected lightness. A burden had been lifted, a weight that Milim didn't even know she had been carrying all this time.

Editing by aidan_lo and Zprotu.

Proofreading by Sluethen, clagan, aidan_lo, Thea, Lightflan, NuggetLover, Milk, and Zprotu.

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