It's so emotionally powerful to me that we don't hear any interactions between Minkowski and Eiffel in the finale between the scene when she tries to send him back on the Sol and the scene where she witnesses him losing his memories. That's more than an hour in the middle of the finale with no direct interaction between these two central characters whose dynamic is a core element of the show. For me, this makes both of those dramatic scenes even more moving, because they feel juxtaposed in a way they might not otherwise be if there was a Minkowski & Eiffel interaction inbetween them.
As the Sol prepares to launch, Minkowski tells Eiffel goodbye and she knows it could be the last time she speaks to him. She thinks she might never see him again, but at least he'll be safe. She thinks he might never forgive her for that choice, but at least he will have made it through this.
But his stubborn desperation to fight alongside the rest of the crew defies all her plans to protect him. And the next time she speaks to him - after she's been shot in the stomach during her attempts to reach him, after she's continued to look for him even as she's bleeding out - he is injured in a way she would never have expected. When she first sees him hooked up to Pryce's machine, maybe she thinks for a moment that he's unharmed, that they might all make it through this the way she hoped. Then she learns that his memories are already slipping away from him.
There's her desperate attempt to protect him at all costs, and then there's a life-altering harm that she couldn't protect him from, which she witnesses. Between these two moments, there aren't any scenes with both characters in together to bridge that gap. There's Eiffel yelling "Goddammit, Renée, DON'T DO THIS!", and then there's him telling her "It was an honor to serve under you, Sir." There's him pleading with her and then there's him forgiving her. There's Minkowski saying "Go home, Eiffel. Hug your daughter.[...] Goodbye, Doug.", and there's the desperate heartbroken way she says Eiffel's name after the memory wipe has gone through. There's two very different kinds of goodbyes.
And then, afterwards, there's two very different kinds of introductions.
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Meet my new (and first) Ultrakill OC: Bezaliel!
I honestly don't have a lot down in terms of his story or place within the lore, but I have been playing with some ideas based on his name meaning "The Shadow of God" (Maybe also meaning "Damaged"? Idk it's kind of mixed but the first one is most widespread. I'm learning as I go lol).
He's also mentioned as being a fallen angel (if I'm not mistaken) so I've been toying with that as well. I know that most of his abilities are related to that "Shadow" aspect of things: moving through shadow, providing aide from the shadows, or even using the shadows in battle.
The ball on the screen is similar to a familiar of sorts- something he uses to gather information or keep tabs on certain individuals. Considering the fallen angel bit, I might have him be on poor terms with the council, though that part of things is still up in the air.
I have yet to draw his physical weapon, but I do have some ideas for that as well.
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When he Ascended, he’d wanted more than anything to excise his humanity from his Soul’s composition. He’d been convinced that part of him would be left in the ashes of his death from which he rose, anew. But for a demigod, that’s not the case.
His humanity represented everything that was wrong with his life and broken inside him. The last thing he wanted was to tote that baggage into the afterlife. It was a second chance, but not necessarily a clean slate.
What the Composer couldn’t carve out of him, he’d bury. What he couldn’t bury, he’d doggedly disregard. Simply pretend it didn’t exist — which would prove much harder than he thought when the novelty of being a veritable god wore off and all the afflictions of Yoshiya crept back in. The mental malaise, the distorted thinking, unstable emotions, loneliness, the ennui —
His human half is weak. Inefficient. Disruptive. Messy. It forcefully reminded him how to dread, ache, and cry.
To cope, he had to develop resilience through spiritual evolution by harnessing his divinity enough for the two warring divions to co-exist.
He didn’t get there on his own. Most of the progress was catalyzed by others, and by learning to love, and to trust, and lean into those to be vulnerable in a way he never could as a human.
The human embodiment known as Yoshiya was finally accepted by Joshua and assimilated. In spite of his neuroses and, he’d go on to build an empire that’s unrivaled by anything the Higher Plane had ever seen. Ironically, it’s that pesky humanity that set him apart and lended itself to much of his success in relating to those he served.
It’s yet to be proven that a Composer’s existence is interminable, or invincible for that matter. Shibuya’s Composier is on record as one of the longest standing, but the Higher Plane could remove any Composer at any given time. If Shibuya’s Composer wished to rule without that looming fear, transformative changes needed to be made.
The second Ascension came as a surprise; it was premeditated but not by Joshua, not like his initial choice to cross over. With the aid of his disciple, he climbed the ladder to the stars, reaching the apex of his consciousness — fully apotheosized.
Strangely, it didn’t feel much different. It didn’t feel like anything. He didn’t feel anything. He could hear, see, and comprehend everything outside of himself, but inside it’s utter silence. Did he finally lose it — what made him human?
Ironically, it terrified him. It hit hard. There was a period of deep irreconcilable panic that he couldn’t describe, much less rationalize. What he’d wanted for so long…
The epiphany is profound. Joshua realizes that it’s his humanity that made him special. His human emotions allowed him to feel trust and love, to be open and be seen and change for the better.
If his human side disappeared, what would that leave him? A God that could no longer relate, that could no longer care, and most importantly could no longer be with them, be among them, be human.
He searched and searched and searched until he found his truth:
You will never be human again. That part of you is gone. There is no going back, which will hurt and must be grieved. But —
Your humanity is ingrained in you. There’s a difference between being a human and possessing humanity. That is what makes you special. That is what makes you an exceptional Composer, and a God to be lauded.
The fact you even feared such a thing speaks to how deserving you are. You will always belong to your people, and you don’t have to give up a shred of your humanity to be with them. You have lost nothing you haven't been ready to release and gained more than you ever imagined you'd ever hold. Congratulations, Yoshiya Joshua Kiryu ~
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