Honkai: Strijder
Chapter 462: Maybe It's Today
Theresa's body was dragged backward for more than ten steps.
In the real world, something like this would be nothing unusual. With Theresa's small frame and light weight, as long as she didn't resist, any able-bodied adult could easily do it.
But this was different.
Before the God of Honkai, pulling away an Apostle chosen by It—that step wasn't something even Kevin could necessarily accomplish. This was no longer a matter of strength. Comparing power with a higher-order law like the Honkai, which permeates countless worlds, would be utterly foolish.
And so, Otto paid the price.
From Theresa's perspective, Otto's body flickered and turned intangible for a moment, then cracks spread across him.
"G-grand…pa…"
Theresa collapsed weakly to her knees, staring blankly at Otto's back. Her mind was still muddled, but instinctively, she began to worry about him.
Otto turned back, a doting smile on his face, now lined with golden cracks.
"You did very well, Little Theresa. Not just anyone could struggle to the very end against this one as you did."
"Grandpa… why are you here…"
"You didn't think I would just let my adorable granddaughter face such an indescribable danger alone, did you?"
Otto replied matter-of-factly, then turned to look ahead at the god who had stood there silently from beginning to end.
Otto saw a pure white face identical to his own, just like when he had glimpsed the God of Honkai through Sirin years ago. He also knew that what Theresa saw was different—another Theresa, the so-called reflection of all beings.
"It has been some time. Facing your radiance once again truly fills me with awe, O God."
Ignoring the abnormalities in his body, Otto bowed with one hand over his chest, his cracked face composed.
"..."
The god stood silently, offering neither response nor reaction.
But that was only natural.
Etiquette and rules were human inventions. Human history is insignificant compared to the world itself. Before a higher-order law like the Honkai—one that existed before the birth of the world and endures beyond its destruction—if you feel it lacks manners, then it is likely your concept of "manners" that is mistaken.
It's like trying to reason with the universe about morality and humanity—there's no logic to be had.
Otto understood this well, so after his ritual display of respect, he straightened up without concern.
Crack!
At that moment, fragments of Otto's face fell off like shattered porcelain, dissolving into countless motes of light before they hit the ground.
He glanced back.
Theresa sat weakly on the ground, utterly unable to stand. He sighed.
"Ah~"
"Little Theresa, I would very much like to be like the heroes you admire and effortlessly carry you out of danger. Unfortunately, the one before us exists beyond common sense. This version of me can only pull you slightly away from the center of the vortex… Can you still stand?"
"I… can!"
Theresa answered firmly between breaths—but her frail body didn't move at all.
Otto let out a long sigh.
"Alas…"
"As civilization advances, the Honkai grows stronger. It seems the unseen will of the Honkai has placed far heavier weight upon you, the Herrscher of Binding, than I expected."
"But it's alright. Grandpa knows magic, you see, Little Theresa!"
That last sentence did not come from in front of Theresa—but from behind her, spoken with a smile.
…
In the real world, above the surging sea, crisscrossing chains suspended the sleeping Theresa in midair.
Sigurd stood upon the ocean surface, looking up at her, then toward the Ottos approaching across the sea from all directions.
"More troublesome than expected?"
"Its gaze is far stronger than the last time I saw it. Little Theresa did her best, but with the Herrscher personality uncooperative, she had no way to turn the situation around."
"Then… will you die in there?"
Sigurd asked calmly, his icy blue eyes fixed on the nearest Otto—emotionless, yet sharply solemn.
Otto simply smiled.
"Who knows? Perhaps I will."
"Though it feels a bit wasteful, let me say this in advance—farewell."
"Haha! Considering all the sins I committed in my early years, that 'farewell' of yours is quite lenient—hardly your usual style, my dear friend."
"The dead deserve respect. Don't worry, I'll do my best to stop people from digging up your grave and desecrating your corpse… well, I'll try."
Sigurd said this with complete seriousness.
Everyone knew Otto had countless bodies. If one really insisted on building graves, there would be hundreds, thousands—even tens of thousands of them. Guarding that many graves wouldn't be easy, so Sigurd only promised to "try."
…
"Hahahaha!"
Deep within the consciousness realm, in a white space whose dimensions were impossible to define, the foremost Otto suddenly burst into laughter—perhaps amused by Sigurd's "humor."
Theresa had no mind to care about the reason for the laughter. Her eyes widened slightly as she knelt on the ground, staring blankly as one Otto after another passed by her, smiling and nodding.
"Grandpa…"
Theresa knew Otto had many lives and was almost impossible to truly threaten in the real world. That fact had once driven her to despair. There was only one way to kill Otto—eliminate every single one of his bodies.
And now, with so many Ottos appearing… did that mean he was about to use all his power? Did it mean—he might also die?
"Grandpa!"
Theresa's pupils shrank as her body pitched forward. She called out with difficulty.
But the Otto ahead did not turn back. The ones passing by did not stop.
"O Great God, I, Otto Apocalypse, have a question. I humbly request your answer." ×N
One after another, fragments of consciousness stepped into this domain. Their scattered power continued to converge, as Otto Apocalypse spoke to the god.
"..."
The god remained silent, just as during their first encounter in the Second Honkai Eruption. It did not converse with humans by human standards, nor engage in eloquent dialogue. But at the same time, it did not refuse questions.
The last time Otto had asked a question, he had witnessed the image of himself committing suicide with a blade—accompanied by an overwhelming flood of knowledge that nearly shattered his mind. Had it not been for the support of the Void Archives, and his use of multiple consciousness backups to distribute and process the burden, there might no longer be anyone in the world calling himself Otto.
But after that, Otto's ultimate plan had taken shape, followed by more than a decade of meticulous preparation.
Though he had now abandoned that plan, one thing remained certain—the god would not refuse questions.
Perhaps that was simply the rule.
Just as nature does not resist humanity's study and use of gravity, magnetism, or microscopic structures, it does not reject human inquiry. Whether one has the ability to comprehend and endure the answers—that is the questioner's own problem.
In any case, asking questions was the best way to draw the god's attention and buy time for Theresa to escape.
Otherwise, what? Fight the God of Honkai? With what?
"First question: If the Life Equation is combined with a temporal information replacement model, and operated through informational interference—would it be possible to truly resurrect Kallen?"
Otto asked this, voicing a question whose confirmation alone would make his death here worthwhile.
The god remained silent for a long moment, then slowly nodded.
A vast amount of information flooded into his mind. But since he was not seeking a method, only verification, the volume was relatively limited—and the cost was not as high.
"Ahhh!!"
Bang!!
Several Otto bodies clutched their heads in agony, screaming, before shattering into a sky full of golden light and vanishing.
Then, the remaining Ottos all lifted the corners of their mouths—some even bursting into wild laughter.
"Hahaha! It's correct!"
"Just as I thought—it works!"
"It can be done. My long-cherished wish can come true!"
"Kallen! I knew it—one day, I would achieve this!"
"Hahaha!"
The overlapping voices, speaking in unison, created a chaotic clamor that made Theresa narrow her eyes in confusion. But she had no time to dwell on this strange scene. Instead, she shifted her focus inward, descending into the depths of her own consciousness—to face the Herrscher personality, who was idly swinging on chains of restraint.
Help me!
[Don't be ridiculous. Why should I help you?]
You have to help me!
[I'd be delighted if Otto died. Whether he dies before that god or returns gravely weakened, either outcome suits me just fine. I'm not like you—clinging to the culprit behind everything, calling him "Grandpa, Grandpa" all day long… You disgust me, Theresa!]
I… If it were Siegfried, Kiana, or anyone he has wronged seeking revenge, maybe I could stand by and do nothing. But now, he's risking himself for me! This is the last time I'll ask—will you help me? If you are me, then you should understand how I feel!
[…Get out. If you want to play out your touching grandparent-grandchild drama, do it far away from me. I'm not interested!]
Deep within her consciousness, Theresa stared at that version of herself—hesitant for a moment, yet ultimately twisted and defiant.
After a long silence, Theresa turned away and ventured deeper still, seeking strength in the deeper layers of her mind.
'The stigmata… it protected me once in a situation like this. Perhaps its power is far greater than I imagined. Grandpa, don't do anything foolish. Trading your life for mine… it's not worth it!'
She had once thought about killing Otto… Theresa admitted that. She hated him.
But if this moment were truly about to happen, there was no way she could remain indifferent.
Especially now that Otto had calmed down in recent years, becoming less harmful… the feelings she held for this grandfather—the complicated yet genuine bond between them—had become clear once more.
Humans are emotional creatures.
And Theresa was among the most so.
The last Otto calmly walked to her side. Seeing the dimness in her eyes, he didn't have the luxury to examine her condition closely. He merely paused, sighed, and said:
"It seems you've reached your limit as well, Little Theresa. But don't be afraid. When you wake up, everything will be fine. Grandpa will protect you. The story of Otto Apocalypse—five hundred years in the making—its end… and today, the weather is quite nice."
As he spoke, Otto crouched down and gently ruffled Theresa's hair, a trace of reluctance in his expression. Then he stood up with a smile, joining the countless versions of himself to face the pure white, silent god.
"Second question: Who… can kill Sigurd?" ×N