Solo End

“Hello!”

As soon as Eizen turned on the stream, he greeted everyone with a cheerful voice and waved his hand.

💬Good morning!
💬I stayed up all night…
💬Hello.
💬It’s here, my work background noise.

As if they’d been waiting, people flooded into the stream and started chatting.

Eizen quickly scanned the incoming chat messages and slightly furrowed his brow.

“What’s up, Pooka? Why did you stay up all night?”

💬I was reading webtoons… saying ‘just one more chapter, just one more.’ Next thing I knew, it was morning.

“What webtoon was that interesting?”

Eizen burst out laughing. After a brief exchange, he addressed another noticeable chat message.

“Today’s Hopp’s birthday, everyone! Clap!”

As Eizen clapped while saying this, the chat window filled with the sound of clapping and a stream of birthday wishes.

“Happy birthday, Hopp. Eat lots of delicious things today.”

Eizen continued chatting with the people in the chat window as he walked on.

Eizen was in a vast field. No matter how far he looked around, there wasn’t a single trace of people.

Despite this, Eizen had no time to feel lonely or desolate. His viewers were always by his side. He read the chat window familiarly, chatting and laughing.

The broadcast had already been going on for ten years.

Ten years. It was a time that couldn’t be called short, even as an understatement.

‘Now, I feel a bit lost about how I’d manage without my viewers.’

The only time he was truly alone was when he slept. Even then, sometimes, he’d forget to end the broadcast after chatting with viewers about this and that until he fell asleep.

After walking for a while, Eizen looked around and stopped abruptly.

“I’ll take a break. Grab some food too.”

As he casually sat down on the ground and opened his bag, the viewers chatted with interest.

💬What did you bring?
💬Ah, I need to grab some food too. Eizen, let’s eat together in 5 minutes.
💬I need to pour water for my ramen too.
💬Are you gonna start a fire?

“I’m not starting a fire. It’s really a hassle, you know. I’ll just dip some stale bread in the stew I set aside yesterday. Got some snacks too. Everyone, bring your meals!” Eizen answered with a relaxed smile.

As he slowly opened the container holding the stew he’d made and set aside yesterday, the chat room fell silent for a moment. It seemed everyone had gone to get their actual meals.

‘I wish I could see my viewers too.’

Eizen had no complaints about becoming a broadcaster or how his life had unfolded.

But if there was one regret, it was not being able to see his viewers in person.

They could come see him whenever they wanted, day after day. Yet despite a decade together, Eizen didn’t know their faces or even their voices.

Over the years, piecing together the personal stories viewers shared one by one, he had come to know a few who had stayed by his side for a long time relatively well. But for Eizen, living in a completely different world, it was truly nothing but utterly useless information.

Who went to which university. Who got a job where. Even if he heard such stories countless times.

Eizen couldn’t return to South Korea, or to Earth.

💬I’m here.
💬Hello. Perfect timing for lunch! I actually logged in hoping to eat with Eizen!
💬Zero, have you been busy lately? You haven’t been around much.
💬T_T I just changed jobs, so it’s been crazy. Eating here with everyone is my only joy.
💬Oh right, you mentioned the new job. Don’t you eat with your coworkers?
💬Everyone does their own thing here. But it’s peaceful.
💬Huh? Zero!

Eizen smiled, watching the chat scroll up nonstop.

“Now that Zero is here, shall we eat? Everyone, enjoy your meal.”

💬Enjoy your meal!
💬You need to have something tasty to actually enjoy it though…
💬Let’s eat.
💬Enjoy your meal too, Eizen.

While he dipped the hard, dry bread into the now-cold stew broth, the chat nearly stopped again. Everyone seemed busy eating.

At times like this, he really wanted to see the viewers. Even though they were all together, it was a moment when he felt alone in this world.

‘Even after ten years, I still think like that.’

Eizen chuckled softly and chewed the bread, slightly softened by the stew. Probably even after another ten years passed, he wouldn’t get used to moments like this.

Eizen roughly brushed his hair, messed up by the gently blowing wind, back with his hand.

When the BL game began, Eizen seriously considered whether he should actually engage in BL.

‘Well. I did attend the party in person.’

That’s where he met the capture targets.

That moment must have been quite intense. Even though ten years had already passed, he could still clearly remember the faces of all five of them.

Or maybe… it was because they were capture targets that they wouldn’t fade from Eizen’s mind.

Quests flooded in, telling him to plant flags with them, telling him what to do, telling him this and that. People demanded Eizen act in a way befitting the title of a BL game.

Eizen agonized endlessly over what to do next. Because he felt certain that the decision he made in this moment would completely overturn his life.

‘To be precise, the moment the broadcast started, my life changed completely.’

Before the broadcast started. That meant he couldn’t return to being Eizen Sarnah, the poor, fallen noble with no memories of his past life.

His entire remaining life was at stake. Thinking that, he couldn’t help but become overly cautious.

Even though the quest had arrived, it clearly couldn’t force Eizen’s actions. The need to complete the quest was merely the viewers’ demand; there wasn’t even a penalty forcing him to do it.

And while he knew a BL game meant a genre about men loving each other, he also had to consider just how far that ‘men loving each other’ went.

The broadcast started, and everything came rushing at him so frantically that he’d hastily dismissed it with ‘Guys are fine too!’ and brushed it off.

But if he was to act perfectly in line with the ‘BL’ genre, as the broadcast title implied…

Eizen could guess that simply holding hands or hugging those men wouldn’t be enough. After all, even in the all-ages visual novel games he’d played in his past life, there were kisses.

Kissing a man. It was a phrase Eizen had never once considered in his entire life.

‘Honestly, it didn’t seem completely impossible.’

It was something he couldn’t even bring himself to tell viewers for ten years…

But to be honest now, he felt he could probably close his eyes and do something like kiss the five capture targets. Even to a man like him, they were handsome and had a certain affinity.

But… what next? Close your eyes and kiss them, and then?

For Eizen, all of this was reality. That’s why he couldn’t help but think about what came after the game’s ending.

Shouldn’t he consider the possibility?

What if, after getting entangled with the capture targets, the game ended? Could they really part ways cleanly afterward, as if nothing had happened?

Above all… he hated the idea of being loved by someone, or loving someone, because of a ‘game’.

Was it genuine? Or just semi-forced emotions due to the game system? Eizen couldn’t tell.

After agonizing over it, he decided to ignore the ‘BL game’ label.

‘Of course, the initial viewers were furious.’

It was common for them to vent their frustration, demanding why he wasn’t progressing after announcing he’d play a BL game. Insults weren’t uncommon either.

Those who tuned in expecting to see Eizen get entangled with the capture targets in explicit scenes soon stopped watching his stream.

A few people came and went repeatedly. It was obvious he couldn’t even hope for substantial donations. After all, there were hardly any viewers who consistently watched Eizen’s stream to begin with.

But Eizen didn’t give up. He kept streaming, introducing various spots around. It was the only thing he could do without getting entangled with the capture targets.

A few people did show some interest and watched for a bit, but they didn’t stick around long or follow his stream consistently.

‘I was new to streaming too…’

If he did it now, he could probably stream much better than back then.

Back then, Eizen was a complete novice who knew absolutely nothing about streaming. On top of that, his mind was filled only with the thought that he didn’t want to do things like love a man or engage in adult content. He’d even forgotten the most basic thing: that he needed to provide his viewers with appropriate entertainment.

How long did he wander around like that?

Looking back now, it feels like a huge waste of time, but back then, no other solution came to mind.

What could Eizen possibly do, having nothing – no possessions, no skills, nothing at all?

After barely scraping together 100,000 won, Eizen agonized for a long, long time before deciding to invest every last penny into skills.

He needed even a meager level of skill to gain the courage to step outside the capital.

The memory of agonizing over it, pulling at his hair in frustration, before finally choosing to raise his swordsmanship was still vivid.

[Swordsmanship F-Rank]
➤ 100,000 won
➤ Allows you to swing a sword with correct posture.

Just reading that description drained his energy before he even picked up a sword. Still, he consoled himself that it was better than nothing.

And so, armed only with Swordsmanship F-Rank, Eizen set off on his journey.

The only silver lining was that he had barely managed to sell a dilapidated, crumbling house, securing enough money for about two weeks’ worth of meals.

But was it because he had only shown the mainland until he saved up 100,000 won? Or had word spread that Eizen’s broadcasts weren’t very good? Even when he ventured outside the mainland, there was no significant change in his viewer count.

‘I was truly reckless…’

Eizen chuckled softly.

No money. No skills. No plan. Setting off on the road without a single thought, he had to endure every hardship imaginable in the beginning.

At first, he casually introduced himself as Eizen Sarnah.

Then he was chased away with a ‘We have nothing to give to a noble lord!’ So after that, he never used the surname Sarnah of the baron’s house again.

The early part of Eizen’s journey was literally a journey without money.

If there was any work that could earn him a day’s pay right away, he did it.

Once he got his hands on the money, he’d fill his stomach a little and stay in the cheapest room available. If the weather was good, he’d sleep by the roadside.

Perhaps because he’d never done hard labor before, he’d drag his sluggish body a little further. When the money ran out, he’d work a day’s job…

It was a broadcast devoid of any fun whatsoever. Yet, perhaps Eizen’s desperate survival story touched people’s hearts, because a few viewers consistently tuned in. They weren’t many, but they also sent donations.

How long did he broadcast like that?

It was hard to call it a travelogue. Yet calling it just a story of survival felt ambiguous too. In that situation, he stubbornly saved money again and raised his swordsmanship to E-rank.

Things improved slightly after that.

Registering as a mercenary and taking requests was easier money than working himself to exhaustion hauling goods all day.

‘Guess being E-rank means I barely managed to pull my weight as a mediocre mercenary.’

From then on, Eizen could finally run a broadcast somewhat fitting for the ‘travel’ he’d originally planned. Just registering as a mercenary and going out to solve requests was new content for people.

Then again, people were so sick of watching him grunt and strain while hauling cargo in a dim, dusty warehouse, what could possibly be boring now?

After that, everything flowed along reasonably well.

Eizen began roaming the continent, taking on commissions and earning money.

As he kept showing exotic landscapes unseen on Earth, Eizen’s viewership gradually grew.

Through trial and error, Eizen himself also honed his skills as a broadcaster.

The initial start was brutally tough, but once he got the ball rolling, everything progressed slowly but steadily.

‘It wasn’t what people call a ‘big hit,’ but…’

Over ten years of broadcasting, his peak viewership barely exceeded 5,000. And that was only thanks to sheer luck. Even during his most successful periods, his average viewership hovered just under 3,000.

Money to buy skills accumulated very slowly.

If the content had been overflowing with excitement, donations would have poured in… but there was little reason for viewers to shower donations on a broadcast that was essentially a travelogue.

Well. It didn’t matter anyway.

Eizen had no reason to rush. At some point, he grew accustomed to sharing every moment with his viewers. Just as they cherished Eizen, Eizen also treasured his viewers.

Now, he was even afraid the broadcast might disappear, so he was actually grateful that everything was moving slowly.

When he hit B-rank in swordsmanship, Eizen could finally stop worrying about money. That was thanks to the fact that there weren’t many mercenaries with such outstanding skill.

So, from then on, Eizen started doing the broadcasts he truly wanted. Without any worries, traveling to every corner of the world.

When he was consumed by mercenary work, even those who had faithfully watched his streams drifted away. But in their place came people who genuinely enjoyed this journey. And they stayed.

Eizen laughed, cried, and was moved with them, wandering aimlessly wherever his feet took him.

‘Who could have imagined I’d end up living this kind of life?’

Occasionally, he wondered, ‘If I’d stuck to making shows faithful to the BL game title, how would my life be now?’ But…

He had no regrets. After all, it was precisely because Eizen had strayed from the predetermined path that he was now chatting with viewers over a meal like this.

‘And according to the rumors I’ve heard, running away like this was the right choice.’

Eizen knew roughly what kind of lives the five capture targets he’d been entangled with had ended up living.

Pike and Christian were just common knights, so he didn’t know what became of them as individuals. Given that, it was inevitable they’d get swept up in various external circumstances.

Jeremiah showed his true tyrannical colors. Endless wars and brutal rule. On top of that, thousands were executed on his orders. It was only natural that countless people dreamed of revenge against Jeremiah.

Marquis Tennes Nemeo fell in battle. After the death of the Marquis Nemeo, the Emperor’s right-hand man and a brilliant strategist, the Emperor’s authority noticeably weakened, and rebellion broke out.

A brutal civil war raged for years. No news was heard of Christian, the knight, but it seemed unlikely he had escaped that war.

‘After the civil war ended, the Pope stepped forward claiming the Holy Empire…’

After Jeremiah’s death, the Pope, backed by the temple, sought to devour the weakened Empire.

War erupted once more. Pike, too, would have been mobilized for the Pope’s so-called holy war.

Ultimately, the Empire transformed into the Holy Empire.

The Pope installed a mere figurehead Emperor, then purged the mages first. Their crime? Daring to mimic the gods.

News reached him about Bartholomew, one of the Tower of Magic’s most brilliant mages. His chimera research marked him as ‘the Holy Empire’s greatest enemy’. They hunted him down and executed him.

All five of the capture targets met unfortunate ends.

Eizen had once wondered, ‘If I’d been involved with them, would things have been different?’

But dwelling on that now held no meaning.

Fortunately, Eizen was still alive. He was living happily with his viewers. That was enough.

Eizen desired only one thing.

For this broadcast to continue just one more day.

[Starting Broadcast]

Just like that one phrase had suddenly started the broadcast one day.

Eizen prayed fervently that it wouldn’t just end one day without any warning.

No matter how much Eizen struggled, he couldn’t prevent the broadcast from ending completely someday. But he at least wanted to say a final goodbye.

‘What a pointless thought.’

Furrowing his brow slightly, Eizen swallowed the last piece of meat from the stew, which had become quite tough and chewy.

It had been a broadcast he’d done for ten years. There was no need to dwell on ominous thoughts.

Eizen rinsed the pot that had held the stew with water and gave it a vigorous shake.

“Has everyone eaten?”

💬Yep
💬I’m gonna go clear my dishes real quick.
💬I’m going back to work T_T. See you all later.
💬Hang in there, Zero!

Eizen, too, offered words of encouragement after seeing Zero’s message. “Zero. Don’t push yourself too hard. Take care of your health first. Have a strong afternoon!”

💬I’ll come back tonight if I have time, Eizen.
💬Huh? Zero, are you leaving? I just got here.

Someone who had just arrived acknowledged Zero, but whether it was bad timing or not, they left without saying a word.

💬Got ignored by Zero.
💬Lololol try sending a message.
💬Should I? But Zero seems super busy lately, so I feel bad messaging.
💬He just came here, ate, and left.

“Anonymous, did you eat?”

💬Yeah. I had plans today, so I already ate. Had some beef!
💬Beef? What? Who did you eat it with?
💬Ate with my mom.
💬Ugh, lame.
💬Lololol Pooka, how is it lame that Anon ate beef?
💬Beef is the kind of meat you can’t buy or receive without intent. Generosity only extends to pork. Don’t you know?
💬Pooka always says that whenever meat is mentioned.

“I agree with Pooka. The only meat you can buy as a favor is pork.”

People started buzzing again at Eizen’s words.

The viewer count, which once averaged nearly 3,000, was now barely over 100 at best.

‘Judging by the decent ad revenue, I guess a lot of people watch the edited version later.’

Well, that made sense. Eizen was active from morning until early evening, and once night fell, he’d settle in and spend his time chatting with viewers. For the average student or office worker, watching Eizen’s live stream was impossible.

And it wasn’t like he could maintain an upward trend forever.

He hadn’t maxed out all his skills, but he’d raised them enough to live reasonably well.

Thanks to that, he didn’t even need many people coming to give him money anymore. Besides, he preferred the current laid-back chatting atmosphere to the overwhelming crowds where it was hard to even read the chat.

A breeze carrying the scent of grass ruffled Eizen’s hair again.

He swept his hair back and narrowed his eyes.

“Oh, did I mention we’re heading to ‘The Edge of the World’?”

💬I’ve never heard that before.
💬That ‘Edge of the World’ name is everywhere, lol.
💬But once you go there, you realize why people back then called it the end of the world.
💬Honestly, I thought ‘It’s just the ocean, no matter if they call it the Edgr of the World.’ But maybe because of the name… it just felt different.
💬Where did you go, though?

Eizen smiled as he read the people’s chat.

The end of the world.

To Eizen, that meaning felt a little more special.

Because it didn’t just feel like the point where the land ended, but like ‘the moment this world truly ends’.

‘The world I live in might actually be a game…’

Or, as Eizen had always believed, it might just be a game for the viewers, but for Eizen, it could simply be reality.

Eizen couldn’t be sure which was the correct answer.

Was it because he’d maintained this absurd situation of a live broadcast for ten whole years? At times, he felt like he was truly a being made of game data. Yet, at other moments, he felt distinctly alive, breathing, thinking… a human being…

“I wonder what lies at the edge of the world.”

Eizen hid his complicated feelings.

It was a pointless thought. What great meaning could the phrase ‘edge of the world’ possibly hold?

It would likely just be an endless horizon waiting there.

💬Which way does the sun set? I hope the Edge of the World is west.
💬I know, right? The sunset view would be amazing.

Viewers expressed their anticipation for the world’s edge.

Eizen scanned the sky and chuckled briefly.

“As it happens, the world’s edge is in the west. I’ll watch the sunset, spend the night here, and head out tomorrow.”

💬I’m glad the weather is clear today.
💬Hasn’t the weather been nice lately? Seems like a sunny area.

Eizen walked leisurely, exchanging light conversation. They traded meaningless jokes and fully enjoyed the surrounding scenery.

Even moving so slowly, by the time Eizen reached the Edge of the World, only about an hour remained until sunset.

“They say this is the Edge of the World.”

Eizen stood at the edge of the distant cliff, staring blankly at the horizon.

The viewer was right.

Even though he’d seen the horizon countless times before, the mere fact that this place was called ‘the edge of the world’ made everything feel different.

💬The view is stunning…
💬I keep saying, they put so much work into every tiny detail in this game.
💬I want to go to the ocean, too!

Eizen perched on the cliff’s edge. While dangling his toes and chatting with viewers, a message suddenly appeared.

[Broadcast Ends with Sunset]
[Remaining Time: 00:59:59]

He froze in that instant. As always, there was no detailed explanation.

But Eizen understood exactly what it meant.

This broadcast, which seemed like it would last forever, was ending.

A trembling breath escaped him.

He had never actually met them or heard their voices. Yet, they were the most precious people to him, having spent more time with Eizen than anyone else.

‘I thought it wouldn’t end because it was a BL game.’

After all, the essence of this broadcast was BL. Since Eizen had completely avoided BL, there was no way an ending would come, no matter what. He had held onto that hope, so recklessly.

Who knew there would actually be an ending.

Was the broadcast ending because Eizen’s long, long journey had truly concluded?

Or was it ending because Eizen had arrived at the place called ‘The Edge of the World’?

Eizen wondered too. If he hadn’t come here, could he have stayed with the viewers a little longer?

When Eizen suddenly clamped his mouth shut, everyone grew worried.

💬Eizen?
💬I told you, the Edge of the World isn’t much, but it’s still moving. He must be touched.

‘How should I bring it up?’

Even though he knew that where there is meeting, there is parting. Yet, when parting actually arrived, everything felt impossibly difficult.

After parting like this, from now on, he wouldn’t be able to meet the viewers again.

Eizen wanted to cling on, crying that they shouldn’t part like this. If it meant staying with the viewers forever, Eizen didn’t care how ugly it looked – even throwing a tantrum or acting unreasonable.

But just as the start of the broadcast hadn’t been Eizen’s choice, the end wasn’t influenced by Eizen’s opinion in the slightest.

Then it was best to part as gracefully as possible.

💬Eizen, are you okay?
💬Eizen?

Eizen closed his eyes tightly and exhaled a trembling breath.

“Everyone. I’ve finally… reached the edge of the world.” He tried to speak as calmly as possible.

Rather than revealing that Eizen’s will hadn’t been reflected in this entire situation, it seemed better to present it as if everything had happened according to his own wishes.

“It really took a long time, didn’t it?”

He deliberately avoided reading the chat.

His tears were already brimming to the limit; if someone mentioned parting, Eizen would inevitably cry too.

“Thank you for being with me all this time.”

The chat speed surged dramatically.

Eizen bit his lip hard.

“Since we’ve reached the edge of the world, It’s time to face the ending.” The harder he tried not to cry, the hotter his eyes burned.

Eizen could no longer hold back and tears began to fall steadily.

“I was happy being with you. Thanks to you watching over me, I wasn’t lonely or afraid… and…”

He had resolved to part ways gracefully. But once the tears burst forth, he couldn’t control himself.

Eizen tearfully said his final goodbyes.

💬Is this really the end? No way…
💬So the journey was supposed to end when we reached the Edge of the World?
💬Eizen, thank you, it was such a blast.

“You’ll stay with me until sunset, right?” At those words, viewers erupted, insisting he call back those who weren’t currently online.

It was fortunate that those who consistently participated in the live broadcasts had personal connections. If it weren’t for the people reaching out now, even after ten years together, they would have parted without a single word of farewell.

Eizen wiped his wet cheeks, smiling through his tears.

Word must have spread quickly, because familiar nicknames started popping up one after another.

‘Thank goodness. We had time for a final goodbye.’

Eizen deliberately used a brighter voice to greet those who had returned after so long. “What? You’re just logging in now because it’s the ending?”

💬Is this seriously the end?
💬Nooo! ㅠㅠ My meal companion, Eizen!
💬Wait, is this for real? The true ending?

Sadness and confusion, joy and relief, all jumbled together in a chaotic mix.

Eizen tried to squeeze in one more word with each person during the time left.

“The sun is setting.”

The sky was completely dyed red.

Though an hour wasn’t exactly generous, it hadn’t been too short either. With about three minutes left now, everyone was calmly exchanging final goodbyes.

Eizen wiped his slightly stinging eyes once more, having rubbed them too hard.

He’d thought they’d part in a tearful, pathetic mess. He was grateful they could smile at the end.

[Remaining Time: 00:02:04]

“Everyone. I truly, I could only get this far because of you all.” Eizen began, smiling faintly. “Thank you for being there through the happy times, the sad times, the times I was scared or lonely – every single one.”

As if sensing the time was truly running out now, the chat window filled so rapidly it became hard to read.

“I’ve been so happy all this time.”

It was almost heartbreaking that no words could perfectly capture this feeling. If only he could explain what all this meant in Eizen’s life.

When the remaining time hit 10 seconds, Eizen began the countdown.

The viewers chanted the numbers together.

“3! Everyone, goodbye!”

The moment Eizen shouted, waving with the brightest smile he could muster, everything ended.

“…”

Was it because it had never truly existed in the first place?

Nothing remained. As if to say that Eizen had only ever seen the chat window in a dream.

Eizen pressed his lips tightly together and closed his eyes.

It felt like a part of him had just fallen off. Somehow it felt empty, and lonely.

‘So this is what it really feels like to be left alone.’

Before starting the broadcast, he had been used to being alone.

But perhaps because he’d been with others for so long, everything now felt unfamiliar.

Eizen absentmindedly turned his eyes toward the chat window, only to see empty space. He gave a wry smile.

“Haa…”

What should he do now?

Not having to worry about others’ gazes felt liberating, yet at the same time, he felt lonely.

Having arrived at the edge of the world, should he now turn back and look around? Or should he settle down somewhere?

Eizen tapped his toes, then let out a long sigh and flopped back down.

The stars scattered across the night sky caught his eye.

Now there was no one to show this to.

No one to respond to the words ‘It’s beautiful.’

No one at all.

Eizen had to fully embrace all of this alone. He stared blankly at the shining stars and murmured softly.

”It’s beautiful.“

No one answered.

It was perfect silence.

Only now did Eizen slowly accept that the broadcast had truly ended.

“…”

Eizen pondered deeply, then chuckled softly. He thought he had nothing left, but in truth, something remained.

His skills and abilities, and even the life free from hunger that Eizen, the fallen noble, had so desperately desired.

‘And I’ve escaped the BL game too, haven’t I?’

Now, even if he fell in love with someone, he could be certain it wasn’t because of the game.

Because until now, the very concept of ‘the world within the game’ had made love itself terrifying. He thought he’d never be able to cast off the doubts about his own heart for the rest of his life.

It wasn’t that he’d firmly resolved never to love anyone, but it was true he’d kept his distance because of it.

Eizen scanned the stars one by one with his eyes.

Now it was perfect freedom. Emotionally and physically.

He’d been happy broadcasting for ten years. But only now did he realize he’d never truly pursued the joy and happiness that belonged solely to Eizen Sarnah.

Realizing this, he felt both a desire for viewers to see him and a sense of relief.

Should he love now?

Should he embark on a journey solely for himself this time?

Or should he live an ordinary life somewhere, as if nothing had ever happened?

Eizen smiled and closed his eyes.

It was the end, and the beginning.