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Who They Call "Charon" | |||
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| He moved slowly and silently, often leading a black horse through shattered battlefields to recover the fallen and preserve keepsakes. Soldiers in the trenches watched him carry the dead and wondered how artillery fire never seemed to touch him. Years passed, and while new soldiers perished or became weary veterans, he and his black horse continued their task of burying the dead in the heart of war zones. At first, soldiers called him "the soldier who cheated death," but in time, knew him as "Charon"—the one who gently guided the departed across the River Styx. | ||||
| The Shadow of War | ||||
| Soldiers who fall in war may forget the quiet of ordinary life, but they never forget the terror of dying. From the lingering shadows and memories of war, "the resurrected soldier" was born, leading Charon to dedicate himself to "bringing peace to the deceased." Though he despises war with his entire being, he still walks the frontlines each day. His "face" bears the weight of endless conflict, and he will remain until the day the war truly ends. | ||||
| The Diary of a Soldier | ||||
| Paul had long kept a record of his thoughts on war, life, and death. The notebook holding these reflections outlived him, remaining inside his coat until Charon awoke and opened its pages. Its earlier sections depicted an "ordinary and unremarkable" soldier. Now, the pages tell the story of a "gravedigger" moving through death. | ||||
Version 3.0 Trailer - A Long Long Way - Reverse- 1999
Xtreme Talent - Charon - Reverse- 1999
Charon Trailer - Memories of the Dead - Reverse- 1999
Items
| Paul's Legacy 0%
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Dog Tags 60%
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Poppy 100%
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| A red journal filled with thoughts and notes, decorated in butterfly patterns. Though its cover shows years of wear, its owner continues to treasure it with great care. It holds Paul's memories and carries Charon's story. |
Metal dog tags worn by soldiers on both sides. Each one engraved with vital details—blood type, military unit, serial number, and name—serving its final purpose should a soldier fall in battle. The interviewee feels compelled to bury these fallen soldiers, performing this ritual as an unconscious act of remembrance. |
Feel free to pick one of the poppies from the interviewee's chest if you wish to listen for echoes of departed souls. Fresh buds will always reappear the next day where you plucked the flower. Stories are told of a soldier who placed such a poppy behind their ear for a nap. He dreamed of dim figures roaming the field around him—wandering aimlessly, faces open as if to wail but never making a sound. |
| "End and Rebirth" 0%
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"In Night Calls the Reaper" 60%
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"Quivering with Life" 100%
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Story
| A Soul's Departure 0%
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| Dark rain clouds gather over Europe. Under that heavy sky, exhausted young men trudge forward like columns of ants, mechanically obeying their orders. At the word, they rise from their shelters, throwing themselves by the thousand into tempests of steel. In shattered moments between the blast and before their screams, their bodies broken apart, and their last thoughts hanging on the warmth of summer and home. Then something rises from the broken parts of a man. From above, it sees other young soldiers crying in pain on the battlefield. It watches as new bodies are pulled up from the line only to soak the next barrage of bullets. It sees charred trees and lifeless streets. It sees a mother's gaze fixed on the path where her child marched off to war. It passes children and the elderly huddled in abandoned fields. Then—at last—a white figure that moves calmly through the burned land, accompanied by a black horse. The soul observes as this white figure lifts a body onto the horse's back. It watches them as they make their way through battlefields and fierce combat, leaving that hellish place for places still green and good. There, the figure takes each body and buries it in cold ground. Where have all the young people disappeared to? The soul continues floating upward, dissolving into the thick white fog that now covers everything. Dark clouds still hang over Europe. Countless raindrops form and begin to fall. And from that ground soaked with sorrow, tiny green shoots push their way through. | ||
| A Diary 40%
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| March 28, 1910 I finished reading that adventure novel after visiting my aunt, and ever since, those distant kingdoms have been filling my dreams. I wish I could travel to magical lands and come back with bags full of gold and jewels. But for now, I'd better hop in the shower before Mom comes in yelling and grabs me by the ear. There can't be anything more frightening than that angry tone in her voice. ... July 12, 1912 I'm tired of playing this soldier game. Stand at ease, snap to attention, march back and forth, press your rifle to your shoulder, then salute our fatherland. Then we dig trenches, and just when we've dug them, we fill them in, knowing tomorrow we'll do it all over again. ... January 13, 1914 Mom and Dad are always worried that a war will break out, but I think we're ready for it. We've been preparing for this war for years; I don't think anyone can stand against us. ... September 5, 1916 Martin's gone too. Scheiße. When is this nightmare going to end? Ever since that bomb went off near me, my ears keep ringing. I think I'm going deaf. Mama, please write me a letter about home. Is everyone safe? I hope you won't have to be the one to tell Aunt Elizabeth that her son is dead. Gott, we were as close as brothers for 10 years ... and now, it'll never be more than just 10. * Ink strokes grow shaky and distorted for unknown reasons. October, 1920 I am Paul. No. I'm not. October, 1920 Hans. Joseph. Max. Werner. Frantz. Erik. Drehtisch. Iron pieces in a sack. | ||
| The Meaning of Existence [UTTU×Charon] 80%
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| Pandora Wilson: May they rest in peace. Pandora Wilson: After the funeral, I'd like to speak with you, Mr. Charon. Pandora Wilson: About "death," about "war," about the respect and care that you show for the dead. Charon: ... Pandora Wilson: If understanding mortality gives life its value and you are somewhere between living and death, does the concept of "existence" still hold weight for you? Charon: ... Charon: These are only words. Charon: Their weight and purpose exist only in the minds of the living. Pandora Wilson: So they are all meaningless to you. Charon: The search for meaning ends in the dark of the grave. Pandora Wilson: Then you truly are a nihilist. Charon: That is a word some have used ... Charon: But words fade, drowned in artillery and the din of war. Yet names survive to mark our resting place ... and more must be dug. Pandora Wilson: I see. So even meaninglessness itself holds no meaning to you. | ||
Birthday Letter
1: This was not the day written in the notebook—the day when Paul's friends would visit. This was the day Charon woke up on the battlefield. On the day marked in the notebook, Paul wandered along lakes and through woods with nets, returning at nightfall to present captured butterflies beneath the glow of firelight and a mother's proud smile. Charon had never shared the day of his awakening; to him, it was neither birth nor death and held no meaning worth celebrating.
2: When Sonetto handed him the standard personnel form, Charon completed it meticulously, without considering what would come next. The significance only struck him when the Chief Assistant accidentally dropped a party cracker, and Bunny Bunny began laying out cake, beer, and steak before him.
3: Though familiar with how the Suitcase residents celebrate birthdays, Charon remained motionless before the cake, unable to grasp why his existence deserved any celebration. Yet the long-closed poppy buds growing on his chest quietly unfurled their petals.
Wilderness Conversation
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...*heavy panting* It's you, Vertin. | ||||||||||||||||
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You're here. It is good to be in a place where nothing is destroyed without reason. | ||||||||||||||||
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Appearances
| Story Appearance | Type | Role |
|---|---|---|
 A Long Long Way |
Main Story: Ch. 11 | Main cast |
 Fuga a 3 Soggetti |
Character Story: Charon | Main cast |
 The Campaign's Tale |
Main Story: Ch. 12 | Side cast |