On the island near the Ancient Chaos.
Kneeling on the ground, Al gazed into the Ancient Chaos at the edge of the world.
He had witnessed the flames that burst forth and ignited the sky, seen the sallow power subside and no longer surge recklessly.
For some reason, at this moment, which should bring joy, Al instead felt not an iota of happiness.
On the contrary, the corners of the Prophet's eyes stung, and a tear fell abruptly.
He looked in astonishment as the tear hit the ground.
A tightness gripped Al's heart, and he sensed in the depths of his being what had transpired within the Chaos.
Yarlessto, still not having regained his senses, stared dumbfounded at the burning firmament.
No more rain fell from the sky, and the waves of the great sea gradually calmed.
Al watched the Ancient Chaos intently, the aged prophet involuntarily walked toward it, nearly tumbling into the sea.
His hands joined in prayer, waiting, his heartbeat becoming more frantic with each second.
