Deep in the Null Vault, the Archivist waited.
A creature draped in scrolls no one wrote. Eyes sewn shut to avoid destiny. Hands inked with the deaths of things that never lived.
Damien entered the vault alone.
"I need the name of the true enemy," he said.
The Archivist smiled.
"No one has ever wanted to know."
"Now I do."
The Archivist handed him a scroll.
Damien read it.
And fell to his knees.
"…But that's me."
"Yes," said the Archivist. "But not the version that loved her."