Bathsheba Ahithophel 

The majority of these warnings apply to child character(s).

General:

Child abuse, medical abuse, humanoid experimentation, extreme violence, pregnancy/miscarriages, body horror, suicide/death, complete loss of bodily autonomy, dehumanization, pedophilia, incest.

Episode specific:

• Episode 5/7 - depictions of sexual assault/rape.

• Episode 6 - eye trauma.

• Episode 7 - strangulation.

Her story is the most important out of the entire Bathsheba War Arc. Please do not skip it for this reason, as vital plot points will be lost if you do.

It’s worth noting that this is the darkest a character’s story gets in the Bathsheba War Arc. The overall content in the rest of the arc should not be judged to the standards of this particular story, because it is an extreme outlier. 

A young girl, accompanied by her handmaiden, strode unsteadily towards the altar.

This place was the Cathedral of Olympias. As if hidden, the sole light source was from a large open window—without even a single lamp. A ray of light from the window illuminated the girl for a mere moment in the cathedral’s dim, melancholic atmosphere.

Slender limbs that appeared as if they could break at any moment. White, gaunt cheeks and crimson eyes. A fragile little girl that gave the ephemeral impression of delicate glasswork. However, in contrast to that transient impression, she grasped a sword that reflected a bewitching light.

The fragile young maiden—Bathsheba—lacked a “mother figure”, an important role for the natural order of the world.

Created by the Machines’ hands of God, “Paragons” were living beings created as an imitation of humans. When a Paragon was born into their fabricated existence, they were assigned another Paragon to act as a replacement for a true mother. It was as if they mimicked human behavior.

However, Bathsheba never underwent this “ritual”. The reason being—Bathsheba had a “real mother.”

There was no need for a ritual mother. Bathsheba was the only Paragon born from natural childbirth.

Having lost her real mother from death during childbirth, Bathsheba was the deified “child of destiny” of the Paragons that regarded human behavior as sacred—and was raised with care under the guidance of their leader, Ahav.

The wish of the Paragons, to become closer to humans.

That was the destiny imposed upon Bathsheba.

Bathsheba was raised in a place akin to an orphanage, with several other boys and girls. They were provided with all life necessities, including food, clothing, and shelter, but there was one thing they all lacked.

Freedom.

Tall white walls that seemed to stretch on endlessly. Its confines were Bathsheba and her friends’ entire world. However, Bathsheba didn’t consider it very important. If one never experienced freedom to begin with, one wouldn’t feel constrained by its absence.

A proper amount of study, and playing with friends. Their “world” was designed to be truly comfortable.

One day, while living in that kind of peaceful life, a young girl that was particularly close to Bathsheba suddenly vanished.

Bathsheba and the others were saddened by this sudden event, but their foster mother and educator gave them all an exceedingly simple explanation.

“The girl went to another colony.”

The children, who had been told that they would one day grow up and leave this place, felt relieved that the disappeared girl had gone to fulfill her noble duty.
But, Bathsheba was the only one that saw. That night, she saw her foster mother weeping alone, repeatedly muttering words of apology to the missing girl.
Several years had passed since then.

Just as they had been told, the children vanished from the facility one by one. The only one that was left was Bathsheba.

Although she sometimes felt lonely living in an institution where all of her friends were gone, thinking about how happy they must have been in the outside world helped alleviate her loneliness, and allowed her to look forward with positivity.

One day, while she repeated this daily routine alone, Bathsheba finally received a call from her foster mother.

“Bathsheba, the day has come for you to go out into the world.”

“I see… Is that so? Where am I headed?”

“Let’s go to Lord Ahav first. I’m sure he’ll show us the way forward from here.”

“...Understood.”

Under the guidance of her foster mother, Bathsheba crossed the threshold beyond the “white walls” for the first time. How long did they walk through the narrow tunnels for? The unchanging scenery and the inability to hear anything but her own breathing and footsteps made her lose all sense of time. Just as her thoughts started to become muddled, she was suddenly illuminated by a dazzlingly beautiful light, and realized they had reached the exit.

What lay before her was a space that resembled a research laboratory, completely devoid of any signs of life, exuding an overwhelmingly inorganic and strange atmosphere. As if to exchange places, her adoptive mother quickly turned and walked back the way they came in—and Ahav, who stood in the middle of the laboratory, spread his arms wide.

“...Welcome, our ‘hope’. Welcome to my research laboratory.”

“It’s an honor to meet you, Lord Ahav. I’ve heard that you were the one who supported my upbringing. I would like to express my gratitude once again.”

Ahav merely responded to Bathsheba’s words with a smile on his face, and ordered her to completely undress. She was perplexed by the sudden instructions, so Ahav explained himself impersonally with an exasperated look on his face.

“I conduct research in various fields without adhering to any one subject, but I also hold a physician's job title. This is something of a physical exam to prepare for your arrival.”

If her benefactor said so, there must have been no ulterior motive. Believing this, Bathsheba did as she was told and undressed completely, the same as the way she was born. Ahav beckoned Bathsheba to come closer, and gently stroked her abdomen.

“Hmm… It’s somewhat ‘unripe’, but it doesn’t appear to be a problem…”

For some reason, Bathsheba felt a small sense of repulsion at that act, but she harbored no reason to oppose it. Before long, she was told it was time for her inspection and was made to lay on the examination table, where she was overcome by an intense drowsiness and lost consciousness.

As he gazed at Bathsheba, Ahav muttered to himself.

“As expected, those ‘imitators’ were incapable of accomplishing it… This time for sure… It’s time for pure, genuine ‘hope’ to bring light…”

Bathsheba woke up disoriented, not knowing where she was.

“This place… Right, I met Lord Ahav… And when did I fall asleep…?”

She felt lethargic. Sticky sweat, like that of someone waking up from a nightmare, soaked Bathsheba's bangs. Bathsheba shook her heavy head to assess the current situation. White clothes resembling a hospital patient’s gown had been put on her while she was unaware, she still laid upon the examination table, and the laboratory was as sterile and devoid of life as ever, with no one else in sight besides herself.

Suddenly, she noticed blood on the examination table. Worried that something might have happened to her body while he was asleep, she frantically checked her whole body and found no conspicuous external trauma, with the only exception being a little discomfort in her lower abdomen. Though, she didn’t fully know the kind of circumstances she was in. Nevertheless, the research laboratory’s uncanny aura made Bathsheba’s heart race with unease, and her hair stood on end.

The desire to flee from there immediately spontaneously moved her body on its own.

Bathsheba quietly stepped off the examination table, and though she staggered, she made her way out of the room and began wandering down the dark corridor. No matter how much she walked, she couldn't reach the end of the corridor, and she couldn't grasp the overall structure of the building. Some of the rooms resembled the research lab she had just been in, although there were no signs of anyone, which only made Bathsheba even more anxious. The corridor was shrouded in silence and stretched on endlessly in the dim light. As she walked with her hand against the wall, she suddenly heard what sounded like crying. Bathsheba followed the sound, when a door appeared in front of her.

Sniffling sounds like sobbing, interspersed with groans of agony. Bathsheba was convinced—this was a person’s voice.

“It’s scary… But I feel like I have to see it with my own two eyes…”

Bathsheba hesitantly placed her hand on the door, and after readying herself, she flung it open.

She regretted it as soon as she witnessed the scene that was unveiled before her eyes. This was not a spectacle one should see.

And in that moment, her entire “world” had been changed completely.

“There’s no way… This can’t be…!!”

The spacious room was circular shaped and had beds arranged in a radial pattern. The bodies of the people lying on top of it were connected to innumerable tubes in places that didn't appear to be related to medical treatment. Cries and moans blended with the sound of machinery beeping.

The true identity of “those things” who were just barely alive—were the young boys and girls that were born and raised alongside Bathsheba.

As Bathsheba's legs wobbled and quivered uncontrollably, a different strange thing caught her eye. Deep inside the very back of the room was a vertically oriented, aquarium-like pod. Floating inside was a “thing” resembling a young girl with hair growing the identical color as Bathsheba’s. Its body was symbolic—as if its appearance was a direct manifestation of a drawing made by a toddler. It was a grotesque mass of flesh, one far too unstable to be called human.

What in the world is happening? Bathsheba swallowed her saliva hard, unable to process everything happening within her mind—when she then heard someone calling out her name.

“Bath…sheba…”

“...!! Are you okay?! What on Earth happened?!”

“Kill…me…”

The voice that called out Bathsheba’s name belonged to the young girl that she was especially close with at the orphanage. Said voice was not just purely from her own body, but was also overlapped with noise in intervals, like it came from a broken speaker. Her vocal cords weren’t the only thing that was altered. Upon closer inspection, her limbs had already been replaced with something inhuman. It was as if her body was being forced to stay alive despite having reached its limits.

The little girl begged for death—all while calling out Bathsheba’s name.

When it set in that this scene was actually real, Bathsheba couldn't bear the sobs welling up from the deep recesses of her heart and fell to her knees.

“My, what a bad girl. To think that you’ve snuck into a place like this…”

Ahav, accompanied by several lab researchers, was suddenly standing behind them both. The girl on the bed noticed this and vomited curses in a hoarse voice.

“You…demon… You’ve completely ruined…my body… Give it back…!”

“Hmph, an ‘imitation.’ I thought it might still have some utility despite it being a failure, but it seems to be inferior even to livestock now.”

Ahav spat out those words, and with a movement so natural and matter-of-fact, placed his finger upon the switch of the life support machine. Bathsheba intuitively knew what this meant and tried to stop him with a voiceless scream, but she was too late.

—Click.

“AAAAAAAAAAAAAAHHHHHH!!!!!”

The children in their beds all shrieked in unison, writhing their bodies. The sight of them spewing foam out of their mouths, spasming, and tearing the tubes off of their bodies was an utterly otherworldly spectacle. Bathsheba had no choice but to sink to the floor, and a lukewarm liquid soaked her buttocks.

Such extreme terror and despair.

As if trying to convince herself, Bathsheba escaped from reality.

“No, that’s not it… Surely this is fiction… Otherwise… This would be…”

While muttering to herself, the eyes of the girl she once considered her friend flashed through her mind.

“Those eyes… They’re not an imitation… No way… No way!!”

It was a self-defense measure that everyone possessed to escape from extreme stresses on the mind and body.

Before she could no longer withstand it, Bathsheba’s mind chose to lose consciousness.

When Bathsheba woke up, she was back on the examination table in the laboratory. Her vision was blurry after being administered sedatives, unable to focus on any given subject.

“Have you woken up…? Our hope… The ‘child of destiny’...”

The vague shape of Ahav staring at himself, and his voice. The sound of his voice entered her ears by echoing over and over.

“I had planned to take things slowly, step by step, but…it seems that I have no choice but to make you understand your duty a little early.”

Ahav spoke.

For the artificial beings known as Paragons who were incapable of bearing their own children, this was the ultimate symbol of what it meant to be a person. That being—reproductive abilities.

A hope that surpassed miracles, something that should never even be possible in the first place. Bathsheba’s mother who gave birth via natural means, and Bathsheba who was born from her, manifested that miracle.

In order to secure that miracle more reliably, Ahav initiated a plan. That plan being, “to have every Paragon be born from a sole mother with reproductive capabilities.” The children who were raised with Bathsheba were a part of a group of designer babies created from her mother cells, and were valuable assets for accomplishing the plan's goals—but none of them possessed the capability to reproduce. Ultimately, Bathsheba was the only one that came to inherit perfect functionality.

In other words, Bathsheba was destined to be the penultimate supreme being; the one fate had chosen as a vessel mother that would give birth to the Paragons, making them closer to humanity than ever before.

While Ahav spoke with seemingly great enthusiasm, Bathsheba was recalling that scene.

Her mother, her friends that she shared her genes with, and the “body that failed to develop” that floated in that water tank. Even though they were artificially created beings, they had emotions and a purpose.

—It’s unforgivable…

Fury to an extent she’d never felt before boiled up in Bathsheba’s heart.

“Don’t you understand?”

“...I understand the details. But I’m not able to ‘comprehend’ it.”

Bathsheba glared at Ahav, but he himself didn’t appear to notice, and continued to speak excitedly about how magnificent and sacred his plan was.

(He speaks as if he represents the collective will of the Paragons…but this devious man just wants to make his own dreams come true… And right now, I’m nothing more than his tool for that purpose…)

In contrast to Bathsheba’s growing hatred, Ahav shouted loudly, whether he was aware of what she was thinking or not.

“Hehe… At any rate, you’ll come to understand some day. You, and all of the other Paragons! And you will all come to praise me as your GOD of salvation! FUAHAHAHAHA!!”

What awaited Bathsheba was a life that was meticulously controlled.

From the moment she woke up to the moment she went to sleep, her actions were monitored by the researchers, including Ahav, and she was forcibly administered compulsory medication three times a day. Although Bathsheba had no way of knowing what kind of effects the medicine she was given would cause, she instinctively understood them.

A body that matured at a normally unthinkable rate, regardless of one’s own wishes. Rapidly lengthening limbs. Large, protruding hips. Swelling breasts.

She understood that her body was transforming into one that was suitable for motherhood. It would have been more difficult to not understand what was happening. It was what was expected of her. And as Bathsheba’s body grew, Ahav’s plan subsequently advanced to the next stage.

Bathsheba stood completely naked in front of Ahav, who sat in a chair. He placed his fingers on the white skin before his eyes, stroking it as if to ascertain its shape.

“Don’t touch me with those filthy hands.”

“This is a holy ritual for our savior. There’s no need for disgust, you should feel honored.”

With that, Ahav continued his "inspection." His fingertips grazed from her shoulders to her breasts, then to her waist, thighs, and crotch.

“Ngh…”

“Oh-ho… When you first arrived, your body was still quite unripe…but it seems like your body’s ‘functions’ have matured quite splendidly.”

While saying these words mid-inspection, Ahav suddenly stopped and took out a handkerchief to wipe his fingers with, and gave instructions to his subordinate.

“It seems that the time has come to advance to the next stage. You, start preparing the experiment.”

“Y— yes sir!”

The day she had been dreading had finally come. No matter how much she struggled with her tiny amount of strength, it was a fate she couldn’t avoid.

Bathsheba, her breathing labored and uneven as she clutched her chest, squatted immediately.

As far as she was concerned, the future of the Paragons wasn’t important. No matter how grand Ahav thought his “wish for the Paragons to become closer to humans” was, she could not approve of it at all. More than that, that her “fate” was to be a mere tool, enduring further rape for reproduction’s sake.

Bathsheba remembered the sight of her friends screaming and dying on that day.

(How I live is my decision…and when I die, I will die as myself… I’d rather die than have myself destroyed…)

—One must also consider the option of taking their own life.

At that moment, she thought that.

“AH?! STOOOOOOOOOP!!”

Bathsheba screamed as an excruciating pain filled her, and fear quickly overwhelmed her. Seeing this, Ahav gently explained something to her, without showing any evidence of himself being perturbed.

“Just as Paragons were created to be obedient to God, you too were created to not just waste your life—for the sake of successfully fulfilling your purpose.”

Hearing this, Bathsheba endured the pain, and succumbed to despair.

The fact that she had been unknowingly modified to serve solely as a vessel for the continued existence of the Paragons—And the fact that she had been nothing more than Ahav’s tool since birth. Not even being allowed to experience death, while experiencing nothing but despair while alive. Despite being called the “child of destiny”, it was in name only, and her body was slowly becoming nothing more than a puppet for Ahav.

With her life and death held in the hands of others, Bathsheba’s heart corrupted into profound darkness.

For Paragons, “being born” meant being manufactured by means of an artificial womb prepared by the Machines. It was nothing more, nothing less. A life that existed only to be utilized by God. To strive against that fate, Paragons desired the ability to reproduce and create new life of their own volition. That was Ahav’s ideal and the collective opinion of those that agreed with him.

“Sto… Stop! Let go of me!”

Despite being held down by several researchers, Bathsheba frantically struggled to resist. She called for help from the maids who usually take care of her everyday needs, but none of them responded to her pleas and kept their heads lowered. The violently thrashing Bathsheba was injected with a tranquilizer, lost consciousness, and was taken to a laboratory where experiments were to be conducted.

One of the maids that watched the scene unfold, Isabelle Yagrush, averted her eyes and told herself that “this is to save the Paragons’ future.”

Bathsheba was laid on the operating table and experiments were performed on her while she was unconscious—all without being told what sort of medical treatment she would receive.

“...Where, am I…?

When Bathsheba regained consciousness, she found herself lying in a bed in a clean, hospital-like room, rather than the dreary research lab she was used to. A researcher who wore a white labcoat similar to a doctor’s uniform sat in a chair nearby.

“So is the experiment…finished?”

“Yes, it was a great success! You did great, Lady Bathsheba!”

This experiment that felt like hell itself for Bathsheba was probably sublime for Ahav and his followers.

Overwhelmed by the stark contrast between her own feelings and the researcher's indiscriminate enthusiasm, Bathsheba, feeling dizzy, asked about the thing that had been bothering her the most.

“This experiment…on my body… What is it doing to me…”

The same as before, the researcher replied as though he was talking about a positive subject.

Bathsheba's egg cells had been extracted in advance and stored in an artificial womb. When a specific gene was injected into the embryo, it was confirmed that the cells had begun to divide. The content of the experiment involved a surgical procedure to return the embryo to Bathsheba's body.

“From now on, we will observe your maternal functions. Lady Bathsheba, please take it easy and rest.”

“That means…there’s a…child, inside me…?”

“It’s still too ambiguous to call it a child by definition, but for the sake of simplicity, that’s essentially what it is.”

Without her own knowledge, she was pregnant with a child because of the actions by another person. The mere thought of that being reality made her turn pale, but Bathsheba, suppressing the overwhelming feeling of imminent fainting, maintained her composure and conducted herself to ask the next question.

“Those…injected genes, just who could they even…be from…?”

“Lord Ahav, of course! Everything is progressing smoothly so far. Congratulations, truly!”

The embryo of the most abominable being was growing inside her body.

When Bathsheba had reality thrust upon her, the nausea that had been rising up within her was no longer controllable. She vomited up the contents of her stomach, spilling it all over the ground.

(...Congratulations? What are you celebrating for? This is…nothing but a curse…!)

There was no longer anything keeping Bathsheba’s mind from slipping.

Upon seeing him hurriedly running towards her in a panic to help her, Bathsheba impulsively pulled out the needle from the tube connected to her body and swung it down with all her strength toward the researcher's eyeball.

“GYAAAAAAAAAAH!!!!”

Hearing his screams, other researchers came running to the scene and found one of their kin writhing on the floor, clutching their face in agony. And—

“Aha… Ahaha… Ahahahahaha…”

Bathsheba was on her bed, laughing dryly in a state of delirium. She sat as tears streamed down her face.

Everything was thought to have been progressing smoothly, but one day, something abnormal happened.

Several weeks after the experiment, the fetus within Bathsheba abruptly stopped growing, and fell out of her body. A combination of extreme mental stress and excessive dosages of medication caused her to become emaciated, and her ability to function as a mother was affected.

After her examination was complete, a researcher who wore an eyepatch called out to Bathsheba. It was the same man who had his eye gouged out by her prior.

“Lady Bathsheba… Although the outcome was unfortunate, please don’t feel disheartened…”

“Unfortunate? I’ve never felt this happy before.”

“How incredibly strong… Lady Bathsheba, you’re truly an iron-willed young lady! You have my deepest respect!”

The eyepatch-wearing researcher gave her a smile, as if he truly meant what he was saying from the bottom of his heart. Bathsheba gave him one glance before she returned to her room without so much as a reply.

The man had complete faith without a doubt that Bathsheba would become the new God of the Paragons. Even when his eye was gouged out, his devotion was so strong that he believed it was “all according to God’s will.” For some reason, that man became the doctor in charge of her physical examinations. Every time they met he would express his praises with a carefree smile—but Bathsheba’s spirit continually dried up more and more.

Although the experiment was a failure, it wasn’t without Ahav’s benefit.

It had only been a few weeks, but the embryo had definitely grown. It was that moment that proved Bathsheba’s body worked as a cradle for new life. This was all anticipated in Ahav’s plans from the very beginning.

While waiting for Bathsheba to finish recovering from her reproductive injuries, Ahav begun preparations for his next experiment.

“Lady Bathsheba, we’ve arrived.”

Bathsheba, whose arms were held down with restraints, had a researcher remove her blindfold. She squinted from the glare of bright lights. As she slowly regained her vision, what lay before her was a room built of pure white walls and a bed with the same white sheets.

Alongside that was a young boy that was around the same age as herself.

“Today’s ‘ritual’ will be held here. We’ll be waiting outside this room, so please give us a call if you need anything.”

The man with the eyepatch left Bathsheba with those parting words. Bathsheba pondered the meaning of those words with consideration to the state of affairs she was in. The boy stared at her with a puzzled expression; and Bathsheba, who felt his gaze, stared back at him.

She recognized his face.

(This is… Ahav…!)

A boy who bore a striking resemblance to Ahav. He was his clone…

If administering medication and compulsory surgeries had taken a great toll on Bathsheba’s mind and body, then Ahav decided it was best to let “human nature” do its job. That was the next experiment Ahav devised.

(I see… So, you want me to copulate with this boy… Hehe, hehehe…)

Bathsheba laughed mockingly, understanding his intent.

Eventually, the researchers stripped her of all restraints and clothing, and she slowly approached the bed where the boy was sitting.

“Y— You… Why are you naked? What are you planning to do to me?!”

The boy was bewildered by the sudden sight of a beautiful, sensual body. With a smile, Bathsheba, unfazed, gently held the boy down and guided his hand to her breast.

“What are you so flustered for. How about this? You’re feeling a little calmer now, right?”

“Y-Yeah… But, this is…”

“Hehe, there's no need to be scared. This is a ritual. If you don't know how to do it, I'll teach you.”

She guided the boy's hand, which she had been holding, from her chest down to her lower abdomen. She placed her palm on the back of his hand and guided his fingers precisely.

“Ah…”

The boy caught Bathsheba's long sigh on his face—experienced her with all five of his senses—and caught his own breath. And, she leaned over him, having used all of her body weight. Having savored the softness of her skin with his entire body, and his cheeks blushing from nervousness; the boy, as if possessed, devoured Bathsheba’s body greedily with his fingertips.

“Ah… Haah… Y-Yeah… You’re really good…”

Bathsheba, with a faint sheen of sweat on her forehead, said this and stroked the boy's head. That pleasant feeling caused the boy's body to slightly quiver. Since the boy was a clone that underwent rapid growth, he hadn’t received sufficient enough “education.” But perhaps due to the instincts of the “humans” it was modeled after, it started to understand the actions it should take.

Without even trying to control his uneven heavy breathing, he grabbed Bathsheba's hips. As if she accepted his advances, she placed both hands on the boy’s cheeks and gave him a crooked smile.

At that moment…

“...?! Ghaah…ha… Aa, ghh…”

Bathsheba put all of her body weight onto the boy’s neck, strangling him. There was no sign of anxiety or dread on her face—just a persistent pure, ordinary smile.

“Wh…y…are, you…”

“Why? There’s no reason why. It’s just because you’re ‘that person,’ that’s all.”

A piercing alarm bell started to ring, as though it was caused by something sensing an abnormality in the boy. Researchers immediately rushed into the room and pulled Bathsheba off of the boy, but he had already expelled his final breath.

The corpse of a young boy, with foam at his mouth and his eyes rolled to the back of his head. The researchers all averted their gaze from the pitiful sight, except for one. The man with the eyepatch, who merely stared at Bathsheba with a bewildered look on his face.

“What are you staring at? Do you want this to happen to you, too?”

“If it soothes your heart even a little, It’d be an honor, Lady Bathsheba.”

The eyepatch-wearing man walked up to Bathsheba. She slowly dug her fingers into the man’s neck, not showing a hint of emotion on her face. Within a short moment, his blood vessels engorged, and the man’s life ended. Nevertheless, the expression he wore was the same smile he always gave whenever he praised her. Bathsheba watched that expression as he crumpled helplessly to the floor, and she suddenly pushed past the other researchers and exited the room.

Bathsheba’s emotions were not clearly discernible in the research facility’s dimly lit hallway. But the truth was, only Bathsheba herself knew that her eyes were slightly wet.

Bathsheba’s hatred for Ahav had completely broken her heart. However, the idea to care about her mental wellbeing had not entered the minds of Ahav or the researchers in the slightest. They were merely inconvenienced by the way Bathsheba’s sudden change had prevented experiments from progressing smoothly.

In a subsequent experiment, they tried to have Bathsheba perform another “ritual” with a clone as she was in restraints, but she resisted at the last moment by biting the clone’s throat off.

Even clones are not infinite. Cost, and time—with no results.

Ahav passed judgement that there was no hope of success with further forced experiments at that point in time, and decided to abandon all plans of continued treatment.

—Bathsheba’s assigned room.

Ahav had already evacuated other people from the room, and he appeared in front of her as she stared far into the distance with a hollow look to her eyes. Then, he breathed a deep sigh through his nose before opening his mouth.

“...What could you possibly be unhappy about? You have the capability to become a mother that gives birth to the Paragons, a successor to God itself. Why can’t you understand how magnificent that is?”

Bathsheba didn’t answer Ahav’s questions, nor did she turn around, she only muttered to herself under her breath—

“...Everyone…should just die… You too…and everyone that thinks the same as you… All of you…”

Although Ahav had always conducted himself calmly, he was undoubtedly becoming increasingly anxious by his numerous experiments consistently failing.

And, he lost his patience. 

A feeling of anger welled up in him. Not only did Bathsheba not understand his most sublime plan for the Paragons, she also spat a hex at him.

Ahav reflexively raised his hand overhead and struck Bathsheba on the cheek. She was knocked to the floor with no resistance, her expression unchanged as she laid on the floor.

“...Never utter such nonsense again.”

Flustered by his own display of raw emotion, Ahav muttered those words and left.

Bathsheba who was now alone did not get up, but instead opened her mouth ever so slightly and began to sing a song in a hoarse voice.

—Going mad. Going mad. I’m going crazy. I’ve gone crazy.

They have, and me too. The whole world has gone crazy.

That man tried to create life by using a life.

That man faced even his own death with a smile.

Who made the world like this?

Was it, me?

If it was me, then I have to fulfill my responsibilities.

I’ll save them.

The entire world.

It was a lullaby to soothe young children.

Bathsheba’s quiet song was the only sound that echoed throughout the white room.

The experiments were making no progress, and Ahav’s plans came to a complete standstill. But Bathsheba shouldn’t have just been left to rot. Having made that decision, Ahav relocated Bathsheba to the Cathedral of Olympias—the headquarters his followers flock to—and instructed her to fulfill her duty as a “symbol of motherhood” in exchange for a comfortable life.

As Bathsheba sat on the cathedral’s throne, one after another, Paragons came to worship her as a deity.

(Male doll… Female doll… Child doll… Worn out doll…)

Bathsheba was so mentally broken that she could no longer see Paragons as Paragons, and instead perceived everything that came into her sight as dolls.

(Doll… Doll… Displayed like this…I’m no different from a doll, aren’t I…)

Unable to kill herself, unable to kill the accursed Ahav, she was nothing more than a doll simply sitting there. Upon realizing this, Bathsheba could no longer contain the strange laughter that welled up within her.

“Ghaha… Hehehe…”

“Lady Bathsheba…?”

The maid that diligently and overly-eagerly took care of Bathsheba had a puzzled look on her face. But Bathsheba’s laughter of pure insanity didn’t stop.

“Ahaha… Ahahahahaha…”

—Bathsheba hated.

She hated her birth, which was burdened with a singular destiny.

She hated her foster mother and handmaiden, who gave her up despite knowing what future awaited her.

She hated the researchers who played with her whole body.

And more than anything—she hated Ahav.

No, Bathsheba’s hatred didn’t stop there.

She hated all of the Paragons, who despite their manufactured existence, had such undeserved desires.

Bathsheba hated.

“Lady Bathsheba… Are you feeling unwell…?”

The handmaiden appeared anxious as she asked how Bathsheba felt, but she never received a reply.

(This world is so crazy… Surely my birth into it was a mistake… God, Paragons, myself. We’re all things that should not exist here… If no one realizes that… Then I…)

The world itself was an error. Bathsheba was certain about her belief.

The pupils of Bathsheba’s eyes began to shine with a distorted light after being hollow for so long.

“L-Lord Ahav…has passed away…”

Ahav's death came suddenly and without any warning.

Over and over and over and over and over. The man she had fantasized about killing with her own hands had died. But Bathsheba’s heart remained unchanged.

Bathsheba’s target was no longer the small entity known as Ahav. It shifted to all the Paragons that infested the world.

The Paragons that took up residence in Olympias were the ones truly caught in the maelstrom of chaos. With the now deceased Ahav, any Paragons that had defied God’s will would be purged. Those who feared this began to argue that in order to reconcile as a whole, they should offer Bathsheba as a sign of allegiance to God. In contrast, there were those who said they should carry out Ahav’s wishes, and continue to wage war as a militant group under Bathsheba’s guidance. Ahav’s followers, whose goal was to utilize Bathsheba as the mother of all Paragons and to then immediately defeat the Machine Gods, split into two factions after losing their leader.

The council met every day in the cathedral, and each time their arguments got more heated. They had no true intent to bow down to the Machine Gods, but the fact of the matter was that God’s power was immense.

From her throne, Bathsheba overlooked the two sides pitching opposing ideas back and forth, which both seemed to fail to reach an agreement, and summoned her handmaiden to give her instructions.

“The representative of the reconciliation faction... Please call him over here.”

“U-Understood.”

Bathsheba, left alone on her throne, stared at a single thing. At the end of that gaze, a sword prepared for the ritual ceremony emitted a dull ray of light.

The council was scheduled to meet on that specific day as well. All of Ahav’s followers were present and waiting for the meeting to begin—but the representative of the reconciliation faction was nowhere to be seen. After waiting for a long time with no sign of their arrival, a commotion gradually began to spread through the crowd. Bathsheba was the one to extinguish the pandemonium.

When Bathsheba first appeared to the council, she walked closer to everyone gathered around the long table, abruptly dropping the thing she held in her hands. Pure white skin drained of blood, an expression contorted in agony. A twisted cross-section, as if mashed by a ceremonial sword of some sort. There it was—the head of the reconciliation party leader. To Ahav's followers, their great leader Ahav and Bathsheba as well were revered above any gods. When Bathsheba ordered the beheading, the reconciliation party leader became a willing sacrifice with no hesitation.

As the others gasped, Bathsheba asked, "Will you sit by and wait to be killed by Machine Gods, or will you fight and die for me? I will give you no grace period. Choose, now. However, those who choose not to fight...will end up just like this head."

Every last one who refused became a blood offering. On the other hand, those who swore to fight would create a new organization with an emphasis on military strength. To them, Bathsheba was the true God, the mother of all things. From here on, they would deepen their faith even further than before.

"The Machines' reign as gods is already a thing of the past. Now is the time for Paragons to rise as the true 'humans' who will rule this world!"

"Ohhhhhh!"

The Paragons hailed the rousing voice of their new leader, Bathsheba. She had incited them with false words. She cared not for being a god or a mother, much less the Paragons' future. She had a true goal. That was—release.

"Desires of humanity, defiance against God. The 'curse of life' causes all. I will bring death to all Paragons and free them from this curse. That is the true mission given unto me."

Bathsheba, thinking so in her obstinacy, would use any means necessary for the sake of her mission. Paragons, gods, and the very Earth itself were no more than pawns to her.

"Then, finally... Until the day I can 'release' myself..."

Upon her throne, looking down at the brave, raging Paragons below, Bathsheba muttered to herself, a look of ecstasy on her face. Filled with endless purity, endless madness—the words of a "new leader."

[1] “Rock-a-bye baby” is the most common lullaby in American English. The original term used here was “ねんねんころり” (nen nen korori), which is derived from the “Edo Lullaby”.