World Hopping With Gacha

Before the final battle, the atmosphere at Firelink Shrine was heavy. Solaire approached me, his usually bright demeanor dimmed by contemplation. He stared at the horizon, where the faint glow of the First Flame flickered in the distance.

"Arthur," he began, his voice softer than usual. "Back in Anor Londo, you said something that's been on my mind. You asked, 'What if the goals we had or the dream we sought were an illusion?' What did you mean by that?"

I sighed, knowing this conversation was inevitable.

I turned to Solaire and gestured for him to sit beside me on the worn stone steps of the shrine. "What I meant," I said carefully, "is that sometimes, the things we chase after—the dreams, the goals—they might not be real in the way we imagine them. They could be illusions, things we create in our minds to give us purpose."

He frowned, his brow furrowed in thought. "And if that's true, what then? Does it mean everything I've done is meaningless?"

I shook my head. "Not at all. Even if our dreams turn out to be illusions, it doesn't mean they lack value. If anything, it means we have the power to make them real. If the sun you've been searching for is an illusion, that doesn't mean you can't be the sun yourself. Be the light for others. Be a figure of hope, a symbol that keeps people moving forward."

Solaire's expression softened, a small smile forming on his lips. "Be the sun…" he repeated, as if tasting the words. "You make it sound so simple."

"It's not simple," I admitted. "It's hard. But look at everything you've done so far, Solaire. You've been a beacon of hope for the Chosen Undead, for me, and for everyone you've met. Isn't that enough proof that you already are the light you've been searching for?"

He chuckled, his usual warmth returning. "You always know what to say, don't you?"

I smirked. "It's a gift."

---

As we sat there, the Chosen Undead approached, signaling that it was time to move. The final battle was upon us, and there was no turning back. Solaire stood, his confidence renewed.

"Arthur," he said, his voice steady, "thank you. If this is to be my last journey, I'll make sure it's one worth remembering. And I'll be the light, just as you said."

I nodded, feeling a swell of pride for the knight who had become a true friend.

---

Our group left Firelink Shrine, heading toward the Kiln of the First Flame.

As we approached the Kiln, Solaire turned to me one last time. "Arthur, if I fall today, promise me something."

"Don't talk like that," I said firmly. "We're all making it out of this."

"Even so," he insisted, "promise me you'll keep being the light for others. Just like you've encouraged me to do."

I hesitated but finally nodded. "I promise."

Satisfied, he smiled and turned back to face the path ahead.

---

The air was thick with ash and a burning sadness as Arthur, Solaire, and the Chosen Undead approached the Kiln of the First Flame. The world around them reflected the decayed state of its Lord, Gwyn, and the dying light of the First Flame. Every step felt heavier, not just from the heat but from the knowledge that this was the final stage of their journey.

Arthur, standing between his companions, glanced at Solaire, whose usual optimism seemed dimmed. The Chosen Undead, ever silent, marched with a stoic resolve. Arthur broke the silence.

"Ready, Solaire?" he asked, his tone lighter than the grim path they walked.

Solaire looked up, gripping his sword tighter. "Ready? That's a word I've always clung to. But... am I? Perhaps this is where I finally discover it."

Arthur gave a small grin. "You've always been the sun, Solaire. You don't need to find it anymore."

The trio entered the Kiln, where the embers of the First Flame flickered weakly. Gwyn, the once-great Lord of Cinder, stood hunched and lifelessly waiting. His hollowed form, a shadow of his former glory, charged with a sword that radiated the last remnants of his power.

Arthur stepped forward, drawing Excalibur, its holy light shining brightly, piercing through the gloom. "Gwyn... You've fought for your dream until it broke you. Let me honor that before we end this."

The battle began, swift and ferocious. Gwyn's attacks were relentless and erratic, but Arthur countered each with precise movements, his mastery of swordsmanship shining through easily overpowering Gwyn. As the Chosen Undead joined the fray, they coordinated their strikes, chipping away at the broken king.

Solaire, reinvigorated by Arthur's words, fought with fiery determination, his sword clashing against Gwyn's in bursts of sparks. Arthur admired his growth, how Solaire had embraced his own light.

Finally, Gwyn staggered. His movements slowed, his power waned. Arthur stepped back, turning to the Chosen Undead. "It's your destiny. End this."

The Chosen Undead stepped forward, blade in hand, and plunged it into Gwyn's heart. The Lord of Cinder fell, his body collapsing like ash in the wind.

As the First Flame flickered before them, Arthur turned to the Chosen Undead. "Here we are—the moment that defines the future."

Arthur gestured to the flame. "Link the Flame, and you'll sacrifice yourself to prolong the age of gods. You'll burn your soul away for a world that fears change."

Then, he pointed to the darkness beyond. "Or you can walk away. Let the flame fade and embrace the dark, trusting humanity to find its own light."

Solaire looked conflicted but remained silent. Arthur, however, stepped back. "This is your choice. I won't interfere. But remember, no matter what you choose, it's your story to write."

The Chosen Undead stood before the flame, the decision hanging heavy in the air. Arthur and Solaire watched silently, the weight of the moment pressing on them.

---

While the Chosen Undead made their decision, Arthur turned to Solaire. "You've found your sun, haven't you?"

Solaire smiled faintly. "Perhaps... I've become it, haven't I?"

Arthur chuckled. "You always were."

The trio walked away from the Kiln, leaving behind the echoes of Gwyn and the First Flame.

The Next Day

Arthur's universe was flourishing, a testament to his newfound powers and creative spirit. Amidst the lush green fields of his creation, Arthur decided it was time to unwind. A BBQ party was in order—a well-deserved celebration for the trio's journey through Dark Souls and beyond.

Solaire and the Chosen Undead looked bewildered but amused as Arthur set up a grill he'd conjured. "What's a 'barbecue?'" Solaire asked, tilting his head.

"You'll see," Arthur grinned, watching Wall-E, who zoomed around with utensils and ingredients in his little claws.

Just as the grill sizzled to life, Garuda descended from the sky, landing with a thundering crash. In his full form, he was a majestic sight, larger than any dragon they'd encountered in Lordran. The Chosen Undead froze, hand on their sword, while Solaire's eyes sparkled with awe.

Arthur waved a hand dismissively. "Relax, he's with me. Garuda's harmless... mostly and always lazy."

Garuda snorted, smoke puffing from his nostrils, and settled down, eyeing the food with interest.

The BBQ quickly turned into controlled chaos. Wall-E expertly flipped burgers while Arthur experimented with seasoning, tossing in random spices. Solaire tried roasting marshmallows but accidentally set them on fire, laughing as Arthur teased him.

The Chosen Undead, surprisingly, had a talent for grilling, using their precision to cook meat perfectly. Arthur clapped them on the back. "Who knew you were a master chef under all that armor?"

Garuda, meanwhile, sneaked bites of the food, much to Wall-E's dismay, who beeped angrily every time the bird got too close.

As the sun set over the horizon, the group sat around a fire, enjoying the feast. Solaire raised a drink Arthur had conjured. "To new beginnings and brighter suns!"

Arthur leaned back, looking at his companions. "You know, I never thought I'd end up here—creating my own universe, having a BBQ with a knight obsessed with the sun, a silent warrior, a giant bird, and a robot. But you know what? I wouldn't trade it for anything."

They laughed, as the stars lit up the sky above Arthur's creation.

---Note

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