White, all and ever.

A colourless land that stretches endlessly no matter how far one tries to reach. Only emptiness filled each direction. No dust and dirt, untouched by the living. Leaving the pure colour that accompanies the lonely spaces within.

A man stood in the middle of nowhere of the said land. Unmoving and dazed, seeming to be in deeper thought with his eyes dilated.

“Did I die, again?” He asked himself.

Failure painted his mind. A void filled his thoughts. The desire to deny the possibility grew as he hugged himself out of desperation. He hated losing much more thought of it, ever since he learned rage and anger, his blood was burning and carving for a retry.

“If you did die, you'll be meeting that shitface instead of me, mon chou,” A familiar voice answered.

The smooth and deep tone, yet draws one's ear within, 101's voice. Hearing her words gave him relief. She seems to be always there each time he feels lost, ever since he died the first time. Coincidence or not, at least he slightly felt at ease having company.

“Where are we, 101?” He asked, turning around and seeing 101 sitting on a vintage chair with one of her knees over the other.

An area of a wooden floor could be seen beneath her, which blends with the white land. A coffee table, in front of her, with an identical chair on the opposite side. Lace was awed at the surreal sight.

“Non non, please have a seat first, mon chou. I may be reckless and relentless in violent acts, but I know my manners as a lady,” She gestured with a wave of her hand.

(Non means ‘no’ in French)

Lace panned at her words, the word 'lady' in particular, which is a contrast to her monstrous strength that she used on him once during the afterlife.

“I know you saved me a few times, yet I couldn't help but feel suspicious…” He took a seat and leaned forwards. “Who exactly are you? No human could ever shoot a large death ray from their eyes and stop a god's flaming fist with their own!”

“Attendez, mon petit chou à la crème! We have all the time in the world here, so no need to rush, I'll answer your question one by one—”

—so please, pay attention to me.”

(Attendez means 'hold on' in French)

101 reached out towards the coffee table, as a cup of tea materialized out of thin air. She took a sip while maintaining a gentle gaze on Lace, who was easily surprised by feats she deemed as trivial.

“We're in your dreamland, a lucid dream. I have been waiting for your consciousness here, ever since I killed that old fart Vulkan and saved you,”

“So, he died along with Hans?”

“There was nothing that could be done to save the vessel of the fallen gods. At least, your friend is in a better place now.”

Lace's fists tightened as a moment of silence came after. 101 was familiar with the sense of loss, so she gave him some time to subside his emotions, before drinking her tea again.

“For who I am, or what I am. I'm once a human, but then became a Machina by my own will. A combination of human and machine, weaved with vibranium metal by the Goddess of machine herself and was placed in her army known as 'Iron Flower' to fight against the corrupted divine during the age of gods,” 101 explained.

“Technically like an android?” Lace asked.

“Oui, A Machina is similar to a bionic android but with consciousness intact.”

(Oui means in ‘yes’ in French)

“The age of gods… How many years ago was that?”

“Around a billion years ago, I lost track of time when travelling alone across the stars with my one-man ship.”

“That’s, people would normally go insane living for that long,” Lace’s frowns loosened, and sat properly on his armchair. “But you did say you’re not human, which makes sense you could withstand it.”

“If only that was true, mon chou,” Her smile grew as she stared at the reflection in her tea. “Maybe you just haven't noticed that, I'm very self-aware.”

“Isn't that the same case for everyone else?”

“If so, no human would be lost in their life. Being self-aware erases the hesitation within and gives way for quick decisions, which I see none of that in you.”

Lace had no comment, she had spoken the truth. He remembered the little hesitations behind each of his actions despite being enraged. He felt like a clown to fall unconscious after making a bold statement to the god of fire before.

“Though, I understand. I, too, had to end the life of a dear friend of mine in the past and have grown cold from it ever since.” 101 continued.

It was all the fallen gods' fault, Lace thought.

They forced his hands to become dirty, and his heart riddled with guilt. The sudden adrenaline rush in his blood was proof of that. While the anger swelled in his heart became the bane of his happiness. All of which, hidden under his indifferent face.

“You're angry, aren't you? Thinking 'It was all the fallen gods' fault. It seems like it's more than meets the eye, despite your usual gentle smiles,” 101 said and pointed at him with her index finger.

“Something vicious? What do you mean– no, more importantly, how did you know my thoughts?”

101 gracefully placed down her empty cup on the coffee table. She bent over and gazed at Lace from a lower angle with a mysterious smile, as she brushed one side of her hair before her figure blurred and disappeared.

“Our souls are one, combined inside your body by the will of the true god,” she whispered, her lips an inch apart from his ears. “Each of your thoughts ran through mine. Your anger, your sadness, your sorrow, all of your emotions, I can hear it very well. Even your lucid dream is also my dream.”

“...so, you know all about me?”

“Don’t worry, I have no interest in sharing secrets with anyone else. Unless, mon chou, wants me to?”

“I refuse, and you’re a real piece of work to talk to.”

Lace glanced from his shoulders and 101 disappeared once again with a giggle. He turned around again and saw her back on her seat, and sighed. It is unsettling at the thought of a person knowing all of his pasts and secrets, but it is also the same person he needed answers from. For so, he deemed it as some kind of equivalent exchange.

“Any more questions? If not, I would like to ask if I could admire that lovely expression of yours,” 101 asked.

“No, I still have questions,” He coughed and shook his head to hide the tints of red from his cheeks. “What the hell is the deal with ‘The Blood of the Willing’? It gives me the creeps whenever that thing called out to me back in the afterlife.”

“The Blood of the Willing, is the one who willing to give all of their being to the Unchosen, with desires to bring the world to damnation in exchange for a wish.”

“Hold it, I, would destroy planet Earth?” He pointed towards himself and chuckled. “No way, even if that’s from some kind of prophecy or whatever, it won’t happen.”

“Perhaps, I know you wouldn’t dare to bring an end to the world, considering your current personality–”

Relief waves over Lace, rubbing his face in an attempt to dispel his stress. The wounds in his palms reflects his real physical condition, so does his entire body.

“...because you already destroyed earth once, in your past life,” 101 added, her eyes glinted and reflected the shocked Lace, as the surroundings turned dark.