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Chapter Text

After the first time Felix boiled his blood, Subaru knew that this loop could not go on either. Beyond the fact that the pain was excruciating and incomparable to anything but getting devoured by the Great Rabbit, there was also the fear that the longer he stayed in this musty, desolate cell, the higher the chance that his checkpoint would move forward, and the thought that the checkpoint would update to the moment he was in this cell was beyond horrifying. He did not even want to consider the nightmarish scenario of such a future.

He remembered the mad and vicious glint in Felix's eyes, the sheer pleasure he got from torturing him, could not be justified as anything but self-satisfaction of getting to "repay the kindness" to an Archbishop of Sin. Pride, they called him (the Witch's scent on him rivals that of the Archbishops, in fact)—Natsuki Subaru, Sin Archbishop of the Witch Cult, representing Pride. Subaru could not help but laugh. What would Rem say, he wondered? Would she even let him explain himself in place of Beako? Would she have flung her chain and started torturing him in broad daylight just as Felix had done?

The silence of the cell pressed against his ears like a physical weight. How many times had he died for them? How many times had he screamed himself hoarse, clawed at his own flesh, begged for mercy that never came? Subaru did not ask for much, did he? He just wanted his friends to be happy, to share the love and good moments with each other. His twisted power allowed him to pursue this selfish, greedy goal—save everyone, get the "perfect ending." How proudly had he declared this to himself over and over? "Where has that determination led you in the end, Subaru?" came the bitter thought.

He did not know; he did not want to think; he did not want to exist at all in the moment. He just wanted to sleep and never wake up again. He was so, so tired. How many times had he killed himself only to still end up in this disgusting cell? It was the same every loop—the same condemnation, the same disgust, the same fury in their eyes. Beako, who was the first one to always condemn him. His sweet, cute little Beako who had stood by him, healed him, and let him cry in her lap when he could do nothing but scratch his arms till they were bloody and unrecognizable. The same Beako who would tightly cling to him whenever nightmares would not allow him rest, the same Beako who he joked with, teased, and practiced creating new spells with. His sweet, lovely Beako—contractor, ally, the one who promised to always stay by his side.

It was the same every loop, the way Emilia's eyebrows tightened in confusion, no recognition in her eyes, only wariness and readiness to fight him on the spot; the way Reinhard looked at him with steadfast alertness, hands right on his mighty Reid, waiting for it to accept him as someone worthy of being drawn. He never managed to get through to them. The more he recounted their memories of spending time together, the more wariness and fury only grew in their eyes.

It always ended the same way: he would approach them, Beatrice would condemn him, Reinhard—no matter his divine protections—could never verify what he said as truth or lie. He was the Archbishop of Pride, after all. Who knew what kind of power or authority could circumvent the divine protection of wind reading? (It did not matter that Reinhard could not sense any malice or desire to harm any of them when he watched Subaru, and why would it? Heroes were not taught to think; heroes were not taught to judge. They were taught to obey, follow, eliminate threats). By the time Beatrice or Emilia grew angry enough at his ranting, Reinhard would approach him, and everything would go black.

Every time he woke up with an agonizing sensation of his skin and blood vessels melting inside his body. Every time Felix would smile at him with his wicked gleam in his eyes. There was no escaping the pain and the humiliation. The more he begged, the more pain Felix bestowed on him—it was for Crusch's sake, after all, wasn't it? In one loop, Felix cut his black, withered arm off (thank you, Capella, thought Subaru sardonically). The rage after his arm regrew was bad enough that Felix killed him during his nerve-frying, blood-boiling "therapy" session.

Subaru woke up in Priestella once again, just after his name was eaten. This time, though, he could not shake off the phantom pain accompanying the last loop and broke down screaming right in the middle of the street. Never before had Subaru wanted to genuinely die, to rest permanently, as he wanted in that moment. The agony was so bad, invisible providence acting on his subconscious desire crushed his own heart.

Subaru woke up once again... And on and on it went. It's said the definition of madness is to repeat the same action over and over, expecting different results. Nobody could argue that Subaru was not just a little bit mad. The more he looped, the stronger his scent grew. Beatrice started to kill him immediately the moment she saw him. Getting crystallized by Minya's shard became a familiar experience. On and on it went....

Subaru learned how to avoid Beatrice's attacks quite well, long enough for Emilia to cry out, "Wait, Beako, what are you doing?" (It hurt, it hurt so much to hear that name coming from Emilia's mouth, to see his contractor's eyes soften at Emilia). Subaru then would go and explain himself over and over. It always ended the same. Reinhard would move much more quickly, no longer with the neutral expression but with the hint of animosity present on his face, and he would always wake up screaming, Felix's delighted expression greeting him for what was to come.

In one loop, he mentioned Fortuna and Geuse. Emilia did not give him even a second before he felt chilly, biting cold so similar to the one Puck bestowed on him multiple times before. It was not the biting cold that broke him; it was the way Emilia looked at him for the first time—like he was nothing but scum, the lowest of the low, a disgusting existence that should not have even been born.

Subaru stopped counting after that. Subaru forgot what it felt like to wake up without agonizing pain and Felix's eyes in front of him. Subaru forgot what it felt like to share little jokes with Beatrice. Subaru forgot what it looked like to see trust, love, and concern in Emilia's eyes every time he would brush off his problems. Subaru forgot why Rem called him her Hero. And on and on it went...

Until this loop. This loop, where something inside him finally cracked, not from the pain, not from the torture, but from a memory that surfaced unbidden—it was his mother's voice, soft and warm, calling him down for breakfast. His father's hand on his shoulder, squeezing gently, saying nothing but somehow saying everything. He felt it and accepted it fully, the way they'd loved him when he was nothing, when he had accomplished nothing, contributed nothing, been nothing but their son.

They had never asked him to die for them. They had never looked at him with disgust or fury. They had never demanded he prove his worth through an endless gauntlet of suffering. They had simply loved him, unconditionally, without question, without hesitation. And he had thrown it away. For what? For people who would torture him on suspicion alone? For a contractor who would kill him without a second thought? For a girl who would look at him like he was filth the moment he mentioned names precious to her?

"What was I thinking?" Subaru whispered to the empty cell, tears streaming down his face for the first time in countless loops. "Mom... Dad... I'm so sorry." He thought of his mother, probably still setting a place for him at dinner, still hoping he'd come home. His father, probably still making jokes to fill the silence where Subaru should have been. They were probably worried sick. They were probably blaming themselves, wondering what they did wrong, never knowing their son had simply... vanished into another world.

They didn't deserve that. They had done everything right. It was Subaru who had been wrong, wrong to think he needed to be a hero, wrong to think he needed to save everyone, wrong to think that suffering for others' happiness was somehow noble or meaningful. His parents had already saved him once, every single day of his life, with their quiet, steadfast love. And he'd been too blind, too selfish, too caught up in his own self-pity to see it.

"I want to go home," it was a startling realization for Subaru. Even after the first trial in Sanctuary, he did not in truth consider what it would be like to be home once more, to see and hug his parents after so long. But now that this thought had manifested itself, it would not go away. The desire and the determination only grew. He wanted it, he wanted it more than he ever wanted anything in his life. Home. Not the mansion. Not to be by Emilia's side. Home. His real home. But he couldn't go back. The Witch of Envy would never let him leave this world, would she? Return by Death was a curse, not a blessing. A chain that bound him here, forced him to watch everyone he tried to save condemn him, hurt him, kill him, over and over and over. If he couldn't go home... then what was the point of any of this?

The question settled over him like a shroud. He'd tried so hard. Died so many times. Suffered so much. All to save people who would never remember, never appreciate, never even believe him. He'd let himself be used, broken, discarded, all for the sake of their happiness. But who was going to save him? The answer came with bitter clarity: no one. No one was coming to save Natsuki Subaru. Not Emilia. Not Beatrice. Not Rem, who didn't even remember him. Not his parents, who didn't even know where he was.

If he wanted to escape this hell, he would have to do it himself. Subaru closed his eyes, and for the first time in countless loops, he didn't think about what came next. He didn't plan his next approach, didn't strategize how to convince them, didn't prepare for another round of torture and death and resurrection.

For the first time, Invisible Providence stirred at the edges of his consciousness, responding to the quiet, certain desire that filled him without the pain that usually accompanied using his authority. Sloth—he was anything but slothful, Subaru thought. Even in his own cycle of self-depreciation and hatred, he could recognize that what he had done, what he had bled and died for would mark him as anything but a slothful person. But for the first time, he did not want. He refused and discarded the desire to be diligent. He wanted to let go, to be free, to be without pain and suffering, to be slothful. He accepted it, the knowledge that he had finally had enough. He touched his heart. Gently. Quietly. It was the first death after his memories were eaten that felt like falling asleep after a long, terrible day.

Subaru opened his eyes. He was once again standing in one of the streets of Priestella.

"I'm sorry, everyone," Subaru said quietly, "but I can't do this anymore." He started walking—not toward the street where he could meet Emilia and Beatrice but away from it. Away from the checkpoints and the loops and the endless cycle of death. Away from the people he'd tried so hard to save. Away from the hero he'd tried so desperately to become. He didn't know where he was going. He didn't have a plan. He didn't even know if there was anywhere in this world he could truly escape to.

But for the first time since arriving in this fantasy world that had promised him a new beginning, Natsuki Subaru chose himself. "Please, love yourself"—isn't that what Satella begged him to do? He finally understood what she meant. Subaru walked away, quietly, without looking back, smiling genuinely for what felt like the first time in his life.

Chapter Text

The streets of Priestella blurred past Subaru as he walked. Each step took him further from the city centre, further from where Emilia and Beatrice would label him as an "Archbishop of Pride." That thought still stung. No matter how many times he tried, he couldn't escape the harsh accusation or the looks of disgust and mistrust from people he had sacrificed himself for repeatedly. These were people who had once been his friends. So Subaru walked on, driven by the pain, suffering, and betrayal of what he once thought were unbreakable bonds.

His body ached in ways that went beyond physical pain. The memories of Felix's torture lingered like muscle memory. He recalled the sensation of boiling from within. But he kept walking. Walking was simple. It was something he could do without feeling like he was dying.

Subaru kept his head down as he navigated through the crowds. People moved around him without a second glance. There were no suspicious stares or nervous glances. Only Beatrice, Puck, and Rem had ever sensed the Witch's presence on him. One didn't remember him, another was asleep (hopefully forever, thought Subaru darkly), while the last once wanted him dead. The thought was almost amusing. He was supposed to be an Archbishop of the Witch Cult, yet he could walk through crowds without being noticed. All that suffering in the loops, all that torture, and most people couldn't even see what he supposedly was.

By evening, he reached the outer districts, where the canals turned into earthen roads, and the elegant water-city architecture gave way to simple wooden buildings. A deadly silence loomed. What might have once been a lively market, full of children's laughter and playful fights, was now a frozen scene of crumbling wooden structures shimmering in the orange haze of the setting sun.

"I'm sorry," Subaru whispered. He spoke to no one, just the memory of people he feared he'd never seen and would never save again. "I'm so sorry."

He found a cheap inn at the edge of the district (one that didn't ask questions if you had coins). The room was barely big enough for a bed and a washbasin, but it had a lock on the door and shutters on the window. That was enough for him. He needed a place to rest for the night, to think about what he wanted to do next.

Subaru collapsed onto the bed without taking off his boots. Sleep came reluctantly. His body was too tense, and his mind was filled with thoughts of Felix's smile, Beatrice's disapproval, and Emilia's disgust when he mentioned Fortuna's name.

Subaru shivered involuntarily.

He had only tried to show that he knew her, that he had been there, that he was Subaru, not just some Archbishop. But looking back, what had he expected? That mentioning the dead mother-figure of someone would make them trust him more? That was absurd. He'd been irrational, driven mad by the loops and the desperate hope of making them remember something they couldn't possibly recall.

Subaru's eyes burned, but no tears fell. He had cried himself dry in that cell, loop after loop. There was nothing left to cry for anymore.

He left the inn before dawn, before he could second-guess himself. The plan (if it could be called that) was simple: get out of Priestella, find somewhere remote, figure out what came next.

The problem was that "what came next" was a void of uncertainty that terrified him more than any Archbishop. At least with the loops, he'd had a purpose of getting his happy ending, seeing Emilia as the future Queen of Lugnica. The pain and suffering was worth it as long as Emilia and his friends would allow him to be next to them, to share their happiness and dream together. But now? Now he was just a wandering corpse waiting to find out if there was anything in this world worth existing for. He wanted to see his parents so much. He wanted to feel his mum softly caressing his head, hugging him tightly, whispering that everything would be alright. Tears came involuntarily at the thought of ever seeing his parents, feeling their love and presence once more.

Subaru desperately shook off the depressing and bittersweet thoughts playing in his mind. He needed to focus on the way forward. The main road heading east out of Priestella was busy even in the early morning (merchants heading to other cities, travelers, adventurers). Subaru kept to the side, blending into the flow of the water city. It should have been easy enough. The witch cult suffered a devastating defeat yesterday, with one of if not their strongest Archbishops dead and one of them captured as well. Unfortunately Subaru forgot his rotten luck and how much this world seemed to despise him.

He made it maybe three hours before he heard the screaming.

Subaru froze instinctively. The wailing was heartbreaking, pain and agony that was all too similar to his own from many loops in which he died with intense agony and suffering as his parting gifts to the next life. The merchant's wagon had overturned on the side of the road, cargo spilled everywhere. But that wasn't the problem. The problem was the pack of Wolgarm that had apparently decided merchant and guard made for an easy breakfast.

There were five of them, demonic wolf-creatures with too many teeth and an appetite for human flesh. The merchant was already down, crimson spreading across the dirt. The guard was desperately trying to fend them off with a spear, but he was outmatched and knew it.

And behind the overturned wagon, pressed against the wood, were two children. A girl maybe eight years old and a boy even younger, frozen in terror.

Subaru's feet had already started moving before his mind caught up. These were children, and he couldn't, would not, walk past children about to be torn apart.

He had his trusty whip on him, Invisible Providence that seemed to be interestingly cooperative lately, and the experience of dying more times than he could count. That had to be worth something, right?

"Hey!" Subaru shouted, running toward the pack. "Over here, you mangy bastards!"

Three of the Wolgarms turned toward him, snarling. The guard, given a moment's reprieve, managed to spear one of the remaining two through the throat. That left four.

Instinctually, Invisible Providence lashed out, the shadowy hand materializing and grabbing the nearest wolgarm by its hind leg, yanking it off its feet and slamming it into a tree. The creature yelped, dazed but not dead.

Two more charged at Subaru. He dove to the side, barely avoiding the first one's jaws, but the second caught his shoulder, teeth sinking through cloth and into flesh. Subaru screamed, pain white-hot and immediate, but forced Invisible Providence to grab the wolf by its throat and squeeze.

The creature released him, choking, clawing at the invisible grip. Subaru threw it into its companion, buying himself seconds. His breath was shaking, pain subsiding, giving place to adrenaline-charged fury and determination.

The guard had managed to kill another wolf but was now on the ground, bleeding heavily. Three wolves left, and they were learning, staying spread out, circling, not giving Subaru a single target.

His shoulder throbbed. Blood soaked through his sleeve. His body started tiring from overusing his Authority. This was going badly.

One of the wolves lunged at the children.

Subaru's body moved on instinct, Invisible Providence extending further than he'd ever managed before, grabbing the wolf mid-leap and hurling it away from the kids. The strain made his head feel like it was splitting apart, but he held on. At least he wasn't bleeding and on the ground barely breathing like before from using his authority.

"Run!" he shouted at the children. "Get to the road! Just run, please!"

The little girl grabbed her brother's hand and bolted. Good. That was good.

The remaining three Wolgarm, perhaps realizing their easy prey was escaping, attacked in unison. Subaru tried to grab one with Providence, simultaneously slashing his whip at the other. This turned out to be a bad idea. His focus was shot, his body was starting to scream in protest. The strike of the whip stopped one of the wolgarms; the beast was stopped dead in its tracks, howling in pain and anger, but the other two hit him like battering rams.

He went down hard, the world spinning. Teeth at his throat. Claws raking his chest. This was it (he was going to die here, on some random road outside Priestella, trying to save two kids he didn't even know).

If Beako were here, Subaru thought desperately, blood filling his mouth, she would have already killed them all. One El Minya and it would be over. "She'd scold me for being reckless, call me foolish, but she'd heal me. She'd..."

The thought cut off with physical pain worse than the Wolgarm's teeth. Beatrice wasn't here. Beatrice had condemned him, killed him, looked at him with disgust and fury. His contractor, his partner, his Betty who had promised to always be by his side.

But once upon a time, she had been there. Once, she would have protected him. Once, they had fought together.

Something in Subaru's chest cracked open. A desperate, aching need for connection, for someone, anyone, to stand beside him like she once had.

His damaged gate suddenly surged.

The world exploded into light.

Hundreds of lesser spirits materialized in an instant, drawn to Subaru like moths to a flame, all responding to a call they couldn't resist.

The sudden manifestation of so many spirits at once turned the area into a blinding lightshow. Colors swirled and danced, drowning out everything else. The Wolgarm yelped in confusion and fear, backing away from what their instincts screamed was danger.

Subaru could only stare, completely awed, as his injuries started to heal, pain giving way to confusion and awe as the spirits circled him in a chaotic whirlwind. He could feel them, their curiosity, their eagerness, their simple desire to be acknowledged. His spirit affinity, dormant or suppressed for so long, had awakened with a vengeance.

Among the chaos, a lesser fire spirit, barely more than a floating flame the size of his palm, pushed its way through the crowd with surprising determination. It didn't speak, couldn't speak in fact, being too young and undeveloped for language, but Subaru felt its emotions like a pulse against his consciousness.

Curiosity. Recognition(?). Hope. Desire. Longing.

The tiny spirit circled around in childlike curiosity. Other minor spirits began to cluster around him, their combined presence creating a barrier the Wolgarm refused to cross.

The wolgarms, thoroughly spooked by the supernatural lightshow, finally broke and ran.

Subaru lay there in the center of a spirit storm, exhausted, as the little fire spirit orbited him like a loyal satellite. He could feel its emotions, so pure, uncomplicated by language or complex thought. It felt... safe with him. Protected. Wanted.

Just like he'd once felt with Beatrice.

The irony wasn't lost on him. The contractor who'd condemned him had been a great spirit. Now he was attracting the weakest, smallest spirits (ones that couldn't even speak, that could only feel and respond to feelings in return).

Maybe that was better. Words had only ever caused him pain. Beatrice's words. Emilia's words. Everyone's words, spoken with such conviction as they called him Archbishop, monster, cultist.

But this little spirit (Subaru could feel it) didn't care about words. It just felt his loneliness, his desperate need, and responded with simple, honest warmth.

"You want to come with me?" Subaru asked quietly, reaching out to the orbiting flame. His voice was hoarse, barely a whisper.

The spirit pulsed brighter, pressing against his palm. He felt its answer like an emotion rather than words: Yes. Yes. Yes.

Subaru thought about stars. About his own name, Subaru, the Pleiades. About navigation and guidance and the one fixed point in a spinning sky. About Beatrice, who had once been his guiding light, and this tiny spirit that seemed determined to take her place. He did not want to replace Beatrice. All the memories and happiness that he shared with her were real; he did not want to forget. But the contract was already torn; Gluttony made sure of that. And there was no future for him with Emilia's camp anymore. Had he not decided to leave them to strive for a selfish desire and future that he wanted? No, Subaru would never replace Beatrice (nothing and nobody could), but he would not deny himself the desire to light the way forward regardless.

"Polaris," Subaru said softly, naming the spirit.

The fire spirit flared brilliantly, accepting the name with pure joy. The contract settled into place naturally.

Power trickled through Subaru, warmth and happiness he had not felt in a long time. The spirit was too minor, but he could feel the potential, the desire to grow and become something more.

By now, the other minor spirits were dispersing, their curiosity satisfied, returning to wherever spirits went when they weren't manifesting. The blinding light faded, leaving just Subaru, Polaris, and the aftermath of the fight.

Other guards were approaching cautiously now, drawn by the commotion. Someone was checking on the guard (still alive, barely). The children had reached the road and were crying but safe. Guards were staring at Subaru with a mixture of awe and confusion. Subaru didn't have the energy to explain. He just lay there, one hand pressed against his healing wounds, the other extended so Polaris could orbit his fingers. The tiny fire spirit radiated simple contentment, and for the first time in countless loops, Subaru felt something like peace.

"Thanks, Polaris," he whispered.

The spirit pulsed warmer, and though it had no words, Subaru understood the acceptance for what it was.

The aftermath was less dramatic than the fight but no less painful. The merchant was dead, unfortunately. Whatever protection and healing the spirits offered to Subaru was not extended to the merchant, or by the time they arrived he was already dead and there was nothing more to do. His heart broke at seeing the children who he had saved desperately crying for their dad to come back. He considered for a second (it would be easy, painless even). Invisible Providence would guarantee it. He already knew that the merchant would be attacked; he knew the location, the time. He just needed to arrive earlier, perhaps bring some guards with him and all would be fine, would it not? Subaru just needed to... he just needed to...

"Please love yourself."

"Never forget that it's those people and others you've affected who will grieve when you die."

Subaru breathed in sharply. Was he about to... Polaris, sensing his distress, closed in on him. Love, hope, warmth spread through Subaru. That's right, he was once again about to break his promise to Satella. He was once again about to abandon his life, toy with his own life as a sacrifice to be offered. "Thank you, Polaris," breathed Subaru softly. He did not consider that killing himself would be to abandon his spirit that just saved his life. How selfish and despicable could he be? "Never forget that it's those people and others you've affected who will grieve when you die." Clarity crashed down on Subaru and he smiled warmly at his spirit. No, he would not abandon anyone for his selfish desires. He would not toy with people's lives and fate any longer. Return by Death would be his clutch, his fail-safe, not a tool to abuse for personal selfish desires. No more, no longer.

With that newfound resolve in his mind, Subaru quickly left the scene.

Three days of walking brought Subaru and Polaris to a small town of Alcor, near Radona's Plateau, far enough from Priestella that he could breathe a little easier. The town was unremarkable (a few farms, an inn that was slightly less depressing than the last one).

Subaru paid for a room and immediately went to the town's small library. If he was going to survive in this world, he needed information. Plans. Options.

The library was barely deserving of the name, more a single room attached to the town hall with perhaps a hundred books on sagging shelves. But it was something.

He started researching. The Witch of Envy. The Great Calamity four hundred years ago. The sealing. Anything that might give him a clue about Return by Death and how it worked.

Most of it was information he already knew, stories he'd heard before. Satella had destroyed half the world before being sealed by Great Sage Shaula, First Sword Saint Reid Astrea, and Divine Dragon Volcanica. The Witch Cult worshipped her. The world still feared her name.

But there were some details he'd never paid attention to before: The seal was located at the edge of the Great Waterfall. The Pleiades Watchtower stood near the seal, guarded by the Great Sage Shaula. The Watchtower was said to hold the world's accumulated knowledge, every book, every scroll, every piece of information ever recorded.

Subaru sat back, a plan beginning to form. If anyone had information about curses, about how the Witch of Envy's power worked, it would be recorded at the Watchtower. And if Satella herself was sealed nearby...

Maybe he could talk to her. Demand answers. Force her to explain why she'd cursed him with this power and what he needed to do to break free. There was one important detail as well: the watchtower's name. Pleiades (Seven Sisters star cluster located in Taurus constellation), the name of which in Japanese was Subaru. An involuntary shiver went through his body. Surely this was just a coincidence? But then again, the archbishops' names were all respective stars of his home, something that nobody other than him and Al should have known. Even more, their power was also connected to that name. Regulus, little King in Latin - that was the prime reason why he managed to defeat that piece of shit.

Polaris flickered near his shoulder, radiating a questioning warmth. The spirit couldn't speak, but Subaru was learning to interpret its emotional pulses. This one felt like curiosity mixed with concern.

"Don't worry about it," Subaru muttered, turning pages. "Just trying to figure out where to go from here."

The minor spirit pulsed again and Subaru reached up absently to let Polaris settle on his palm. She seemed to enjoy his attention quite a lot. Subaru could not help but grin. "Quite the attention seeker aren't you?"

He looked at the map and the laid-out information again, calculating distance and danger that he would have to face. So far nobody in 400 years had managed to ever breach the Watchtower. But would he let something like this stop him? Was he not Subaru Natsuki, son of Kenichi Natsuki, the slayer of Archbishop of Sloth, Great Rabbit, and White Whale? It would be a long journey. Months through foreign lands, past Mabeasts and bandits and who knew what else. He'd probably die a few more times along the way. But Subaru had already determined his way forward and nothing would stop him now. He would go back home, no matter what. That was a promise made to himself, one promise that he had no desire to break.

That night, Subaru stood by the window of his inn room, looking east toward a place he couldn’t see. Polaris circled his wrist, a steady light in the dark.

"You know," Subaru murmured, not really expecting a reply but needing to express his thoughts, "Just yesterday, I wanted to die. I wanted to stop existing. The betrayal was too much. I couldn’t see a way forward."

Polaris pulsed with warmth. She didn't grasp the words, but sensing the emotion behind them, she offered comfort in response to his pain.

"Now I have a goal. Maybe it’s a foolish goal. The Watchtower might not have any answers. The Witch of Envy might trap me forever in her shadows and claim to 'love me' in her twisted way. But I can’t give up. I finally have a goal, a desire, meaning that I want to find for myself."

The spirit glowed brighter, resting against his palm. Its feelings were simple, not complicated by words or deep thought. It shared in Subaru's determination, along with his uncertainty and fear.

"Thank you," Subaru whispered. "For choosing me. For answering my call for help."

Polaris couldn't respond in words. But its warmth grew, enveloping Subaru's hand like a promise. It was a silent understanding, there was not much more that needed to be said.

They stood together in comfortable silence. Tomorrow, they would leave town. Tomorrow, they would start the long journey east. Tomorrow, they would take the first real steps toward answers, toward freedom, and whatever fate awaited at the edge of the world. Tomorrow, Polaris would light his way.

Subaru slept peacefully that night, the warmth and love of his spirit protecting him from the despair and suffering that had followed him since he had arrived in this world.

Chapter Text

Wilhelm sat by Crusch's bedside, lost in thought, his hands were folded in his lap.

The room was quiet except for her breathing. Shallow and labored, but steady. The curse Capella had inflicted had done its work already. Black vein-like markings covered half of Crusch's face and spread across her skin like cracks in fine porcelain. A medical eyepatch covered her left eye, hiding whatever corruption the dragon's blood had wrought there.

Wilhelm had seen many things in his long life. He had slain the White Whale. He had survived the Demi-Human War that wrecked havoc and chaos on Lugnica. He had fought and bested people in duels. He was no stranger to death, gruesome sights, agony and loss. Yet, he could not stop himself and questioned How Crusch Karsten was still alive. By every law of magic and medicine, she should have died within hours of being cursed.

Felix entered the room, carrying fresh bandages and examination tools. Dark circles were under his eyes. His hands trembled slightly as he set his supplies on the small table beside the bed. His usual cheerful demeanor was gone, replaced by something hollow and worn.

"The curse stabilized, nyow. It won't grow any stronger."

His voice was flat and clinical, as if saying it that way might make it easier to accept. Ever since Crusch-sama had lost her memories, it had been difficult to navigate the political game of the royal selection. Whatever prestige and recognition the defeat of the Great Whale had brought was upended by the questioning and doubtful gazes of the previous supporters - "Could Crusch Karsten rule when she could not remember her own self?" The question stood once more in front of him. Could Crusch Karsten rule when she was barely holding on to life? Defeat of the Witch Cult in Priestella and their participation was noted by everyone, but twice great victory for Wilhelm had come with the cost of her lady's suffering. Was any of the achievements worth it, if this was the cost, if this was the "prize"?

Wilhelm said nothing at first. He had noticed already. He had watched Felix examine Crusch over and over these past days, searching for an explanation that never came. The young healer barely slept or ate. He spent every waking hour trying to understand the intricacies of the curse. In heart, Wilhelm knew it was foolish endeavour but he did not voice his thoughts, not to Felix most of all.

Felix moved to Crusch's side and checked her pulse. He examined the black markings that spread across her skin but then simply stopped. His jaw tightened, and his movements grew more frantic as he worked. He channelled a thread of mana through her body, looking for any changes, any sign the curse had progressed.

"The curse did its damage, that much is clear, but then it just stopped progressing. The fatal part is somehow diminished. Less potent than it should be, nyow."

Wilhelm watched the young healer press both hands against Crusch's arm. Healing magic glowed softly in the dim room, casting strange shadows on the walls. The light highlighted the black markings, which spread across her skin like a spider's web. But they were static. They weren't spreading. They weren't consuming her from within like they should have been.

"Could the curse have weakened on its own?"

"The curse is still inside her. Ferris-chan can feel it when Ferris-chan channels Mana through her. It's still active, still poisoning her blood, still trying to spread, nyow. But the lethality is all wrong. It's as if the killing intent behind the curse got diluted, or like someone siphoned away the most dangerous part of it."

Felix pulled his hands back and stared at them as if they had somehow failed him. As if they should have been able to do more. His voice dropped.

"Ferris-chan has gone over every moment of that battle, trying to understand what happened, nyow. But everything after Lady Crusch was cursed is just foggy. Ferris-chan remembers the panic, the flooding, trying to reach her through all the chaos and fighting. But the specific details are all blurred together, nyow. It's frustrating."

He trailed off, frustration and exhaustion clear in his stance. His shoulders sagged as he sank into the chair on the opposite side of Crusch's bed.

Wilhelm stood and moved to the window. It had been a week since the Witch Cult ravaged the city. Priestella was recovering from the attack steadily. People rebuilt their homes and businesses with determination. Merchants returned to the canals with their goods. Children played in the streets again. Life moved forward as it always did after a tragedy.

His hand moved almost automatically to his sword, resting at his hip. The familiar weight was comforting in a way few things were anymore. But as his fingers brushed the worn pommel, he paused.

Something felt off. He couldn't pinpoint what exactly.

It was a strange sensation, like walking into a room and forgetting why you went there in the first place. Or like reaching for something that should be on a shelf where you always keep it, only to find empty space.

"Wilhelm-sama, nyow?"

He turned from the window. Felix looked at him with concern written plainly on his tired face.

"You looked troubled just now. Is something wrong, nyow?"

Wilhelm considered the question carefully. Was something wrong? He felt fine, all things considered. He was strong for a man his age. His mind was sharp. His sword arm was steady. But there was that pesky feeling nagging at the back of his thoughts.

"No, nothing is wrong. Just an old man's wandering thoughts."

But Felix's expression didn't clear at his reassurance. If anything, the young healer looked more troubled.

"Does Wilhelm-sama ever feel like something is off, nyow? Not wrong exactly, but just sort of off?"

The question caught Wilhelm off guard. It was uncomfortably close to what he'd just been feeling, though he hadn't meant to put it into words.

"What do you mean by that?"

"Ferris-chan can't explain it properly, nyow. It's just that sometimes Ferris-chan goes about the day normally, doing regular tasks, and suddenly feels like there should be someone else there. Not anyone specific that Ferris-chan can name, just someone. Like when you walk into a room and feel that strong sensation that you've forgotten something important but can't remember what it was."

Felix let out a short laugh, but it sounded hollow and forced, lacking any real humor.

"Ferris-chan must be going crazy from exhaustion, nyow. Too many sleepless nights. Please forget Ferris-chan said anything."

Wilhelm didn't reply right away. He understood that feeling more than he wanted to admit, though he couldn't have put it into words the way Felix did. Sometimes, when thinking about the White Whale battle, he would get halfway through recounting the strategy in his mind before realising he couldn't remember whose idea it was to cut the Flugel tree to trap the Whale. His own suggestion? Crusch-sama's tactical insight? It seemed obvious, something he should remember clearly, but it wasn't.

The details were there. He remembered the fog rolling across the battlefield. He remembered the terror of facing multiple copies of the beast at once. He remembered the final strike, the moment when his blade cut through the creature's flesh and he knew that it was truly dead. That Theresia had been avenged.

But there were odd gaps between those clear memories. Moments where the flow felt slightly disrupted, like a book with pages torn out. Nothing major enough to make the story incomprehensible, but enough to leave a nagging sense that something was missing.

He shook his head, dismissing the thought. No point in dwelling on such things. The battle was won. The beast was dead. That was what mattered.

"Ferris-chan will keep investigating, nyow. Ferris-chan will check with all the other healers who were there during the battle. Ferris-chan will interview the soldiers nearby when she was cursed. Ferris-chan will review every single moment of that fight until Ferris-chan understands exactly what happened, nyow."

Wilhelm nodded slowly. Felix was thorough in his work, meticulous to a fault. If there was an answer, the young healer would eventually find it. Though Wilhelm suspected, for reasons he couldn't articulate, that Felix's investigation would uncover nothing useful. Or maybe it would reveal facts and details that somehow failed to paint a complete picture when put together.

Crusch stirred slightly in her sleep, her head turning on the pillow. Her breathing was easier than it had been days ago, the rattling gone from her lungs. Her color was better too, despite the curse markings that marred her skin. She was alive and stable but the pain accompanied by the pulsing curse would not fade. He could not help but feel pity for her and fury for not being there to help his lady.

Someone had saved her. Something had happened to weaken that curse just enough for her to survive. Wilhelm thought they should all be grateful for that small mercy, even if none of them could explain how.

The evening light was fading outside, painting the sky in shades of orange and pink. Wilhelm watched a flock of birds fly past the window, their silhouettes dark against the colorful sky. The sun continued its descent, casting the room into deeper shadows. Felix stood and turned on the oil lamp on the bedside table, then settled back into his chair to continue his vigil. Wilhelm returned to his seat by the window, one hand resting comfortably on the pommel of his sword.

His thoughts drifted again, unbidden, to the White Whale battle. They had won against impossible odds. The beast that had terrorized the kingdom for centuries was finally dead. Theresia had been avenged. The details of exactly how it all came together mattered less than the end result.

Still, that odd feeling was back. Faint but persistent. What was that troubled him so much, why was it that his memories and feelings battled with each other, why didn't he have assurance in the clarity of his own memories?

Wilhelm could do nothing but dismiss the thoughts once more. He was getting old, that was all. Memory played tricks on people as they aged. Details blurred together. That was normal and not worth worrying over.

He closed his eyes for a moment, letting himself rest. When he opened them again, he stared out at the darkening city beyond the window. The streets were lit with lamps now, warm points of light against the gathering darkness. Life continued, as it always did.

Whatever strange feeling had troubled him was fading again, slipping away like morning mist under the warming sun. By tomorrow, he probably wouldn't even remember what had bothered him. That was how these things went.

Felix was still sitting vigil by Crusch's bedside, his eyes fixed on her face, as if watching for any sign of change. The young healer's devotion was admirable, even if his current exhaustion was concerning. Wilhelm made a mental note to insist Felix get proper rest soon, before he collapsed from the strain.

The room settled into comfortable silence, broken only by soft sounds of breathing and distant noises from the city outside. Wilhelm let his mind drift, not thinking about anything in particular...

The main hall of Roswaal's manor buzzed with quiet activity as Emilia's camp prepared for their journey east. Maps were spread across the large oak table in the center of the room, supply lists covered several smaller tables nearby. Everyone had gathered to finalize their plans for the expedition to the Pleiades Watchtower.

Emilia stood at the head of the table, her silver hair catching the afternoon light streaming through the windows. It had been more than a month since the Witch Cult attack on Priestella had successfully been thwarted. Since then, her camp and her allies had been busy planning an expedition to Pleiades Watchtower in hope to find cure to many ailments left behind the Sin Archbishops of Gluttony and Lust. She studied the map in front of her intently, tracing the route from Priestella to the Augria Sand Dunes with her finger. The path looked deceptively simple on paper, but she knew the reality would be far more dangerous. Beside her, Beatrice sat perched on the edge of the table, her small legs dangling as she too examined the maps with a critical eye.

"The journey will take approximately three weeks if we maintain a steady pace," Julius said from his position near the window. His voice was calm and measured as always, though there was something slightly strained about his posture. It had been easy enough to prove his identity, the uniform, the way he talked and behaved, it did not take much beside from Reinhard looking at him once to confirm his identity as one of the knights of Lugnica, but that did not change the fact that everybody looked at him as if he was a stranger, as if he did not belong. He remembered the first time her lady Anastasia looked at him in confusion and distrust. Something broke in his heart that day that had not recovered since. Julius desperately dispersed his morose thoughts. "That assumes favorable weather conditions and no significant encounters with bandits, Mabeasts or other obstacles along the way."

"Three weeks feels like such a long time," Emilia said softly. She looked down at the map again, her fingers tracing over the marked location of Mirula, their last stop before entering the sand dunes proper. "But we don't really have a choice, do we? Not if we want to reach the Watchtower and find a way to restore everyone's memories and free the people from Capella's curse."

Beatrice glanced up at Emilia, her expression thoughtful. There was something odd she'd been feeling lately, an uncomfortable emptiness that she couldn't quite explain or shake off. She didn't understand it, and that bothered her more than she cared to admit.

"The Augria Sand Dunes are filled with miasma that will disorient travellers and drain corrupt their Mana if they're not careful, I suppose." Beatrice said, pushing aside that strange feeling for now. "Betty will need to maintain protective barriers around our group for long periods."

"Will that be too much of a strain on you, Beatrice?" Emilia asked, concern evident in her voice.

"Betty has more than enough Mana reserves for the task, in fact. Though having additional spirit magic users would make things easier, I suppose." Julius clenched his hands, he could have been useful in that regard if only his spirits were by his side. Gluttony made sure to not even leave him that.

Across the room, Ram stood with her arms crossed, observing the planning session with her usual critical eye. Her expression was difficult to read, but there was a tension in her shoulders that hadn't been there before the Priestella incident.

"The provisions are nearly complete," Ram said. "Frederica and Petra have been working to prepare food supplies that will keep for the duration of the journey. We should have enough for the entire group with some emergency reserves as well."

Frederica nodded from where she stood near the doorway, her tall frame making her easy to spot even in the crowded room. "Yes, we've focused on dried goods and preserved foods that can withstand the heat of the sand dunes. I've also prepared several medical kits with basic remedies and bandages".

Emilia listened to the discussion absentmindedly. She felt that strange emptiness pulse in her chest again, sharper this time. It was the oddest sensation, as if she'd forgotten something vitally important but couldn't remember what it was no matter how hard she tried. She pressed a hand to her chest absently, frowning slightly. The feeling had been coming and going for days now, ever since the end of the battle in Priestella.

"Are you alright, Emilia-sama?" Julius asked, noticing her distracted expression.

"Yes, I'm fine. Just... thinking about everything we need to do."

She wasn't lying exactly, but she also wasn't telling the whole truth. How could she explain a feeling that made no logical sense? That sometimes, when she walked through the halls of the mansion or sat in the garden, she felt like there should be someone else there? Not anyone she could name or picture, just an absence where presence should be.

Petra, who had been quietly organising supply lists at one of the smaller tables, spoke up. "Lady Emilia, I've prepared extra cloaks and wrappings for protection against the sand winds. Roswaal-sama mentioned they can be quite severe, so I made sure everyone will have protection for their eyes and faces."

"Thank you, Petra-chan. That's very thoughtful of you."

The young maid beamed at the praise, though her expression quickly turned more serious. "I wish I could come with you to help, but I understand why I need to stay here. Someone has to help manage the estate while everyone is gone."

"And you'll do an excellent job of it," Ram said, her tone leaving no room for argument. "Roswaal-sama will need all the help to oversee affairs in our absence. If you need help, Frederica and Otto will assist you as well."

As if summoned by the mention of his name, the sound of footsteps echoed from the hallway. But these footsteps were different from Roswaal's usual theatrical entrance. They were faster, more urgent. When the door opened, Roswaal stepped through with an expression that made everyone in the room fall silent.

His face was grim and serious in a way they rarely saw. The usual playful smirk was completely absent, replaced by something dark and troubled. His mismatched eyes swept across the room, taking in everyone present before settling on Emilia.

"I apologize for interrupting your plaaaanning session," Roswaal said, though his usual drawn-out speech pattern was notably subdued. "However, I've just received some rather disturbing news that you all need to hear immediately."

"What kind of news?" Emilia asked, her stomach already sinking with dread.

Roswaal moved to the table and placed both hands flat on its surface, leaning forward slightly. "I've been in contact with several information networks throughout the kingdom, gathering intelligence about potential threats and obstacles along your planned route to the Watchtower. What I've learned is... troubling, to say the least."

"What is troubling you so much Roswaal-sama?" Ram said sharply.

"The town of Mirula has been destroyed Ram; Completely burned to the ground, from what my sources tell me. The few survivors who managed to escape report that the attack came suddenly and out of nowhere. They say it happened during one of the Sand times. One big explosion destroyed much of the city and rest of it was burnt from the following fire. Buildings were set ablaze, people were killed indiscriminately, and the entire settlement was reduced to ash and rubble within a matter of hours."

The whole room was left speechless. Mirula was supposed to be their last supply stop before entering the Augria Sand Dunes. It was a crucial resting point for anyone attempting to reach the Watchtower. If the town was gone, that complicated their journey significantly.

"Who did this?" Julius demanded, his hand instinctively moving to rest on his sword pommel. "Was it the Witch Cult?"

"That's what makes this particularly disturbing," Roswaal continued, his expression growing even darker. "There are multiple reports from survivors claiming they saw a raven haired boy fleeing the town during the fire. Nobody was able to recognise him. Mirula is a small town that rarely has any visitors so everybody mostly knows each other. Whoever that person was is not something that we can know for now." Roswaal stopped for a moment, looking at Emilia particularly, "Either the reports are mistaken, or..."

"Roswaal-sama?", Ram looked at Roswaal inquisitively. "Or what?"

"Or if this was indeed an attack by the Witch Cult, then we might have a new Sin Archbishop that has become active. Powerful enough to raze a small town without an issue".

Emilia felt cold dread settling in her stomach. They had barely survived the encounter with the Archbishops in Priestella. The thought of facing another one, especially after what Gluttony had done to Rem and Julius and everyone else who had their memories or names eaten, was almost too much to bear.

"This changes things significantly," Julius said, his tactical mind already working through the implications. "If there's a new Archbishop operating in the region we need to travel through, we'll need to adjust our plans accordingly. The danger level has increased substantially."

"Which is precisely why I wanted to inform you all immediately," Roswaal said. "I know you're determined to reach the Watchtower and find a way to restore what was taken from you Ser Julius, from Crusch-sama, from Rem, and from countless others. But I would be remiss in my duties if I didn't point out that this journey has become consiiiiiiderablyyyyyy more dangerous than we initially anticipated."

Ram's expression had grown harder, her jaw set with determination. "Are you suggesting we abandon the expedition Roswaal-sama?" Ram did not want to even think about this option. Even though she did not remember her sister, that did not change her motivation and desire to see her alive, breathing and talking once more. She would do anything to see that future come true.

"I'm suggesting you consider all the facts before proceeding," Roswaal replied. "Though knowing Emilia-sama as I do, I suspect your mind is already made up regardless of the risks involved."

He was right, of course. Emilia straightened her posture, meeting Roswaal's mismatched gaze directly. "We have to go. There's no other choice. Rem is still sleeping because of what Gluttony did to her. Julius can't be recognized by the people who should know him best. Lady Crusch doesn't remember anything about her own past. People of Priestella are in constant agony from the transformation Capella did on them. We can't just give up because the journey is dangerous."

"Which brings me to another matter," came a new voice from the doorway.

Everyone turned to see Reinhard van Astrea standing in the entrance to the room. His red hair seemed to catch the light like fire, and his blue eyes were serious, missing the usual twinkle as he surveyed the gathered group. There was something almost apologetic in his expression, but also a steely determination that suggested he'd already made up his mind about something.

"Reinhard," Julius said, surprise evident in his voice. "I didn't realize you were here at the manor."

"I arrived a short time ago," Reinhard explained, stepping fully into the room. "I came specifically because I wanted to speak with you all about your planned expedition to the Watchtower. I've been following the reports about this possible new Archbishop and the aftermath of what happened in Priestella. I've also heard about what happened in Mirula."

"And?" Roswaal asked his tone curious.

"And I want to join your expedition," Reinhard said simply. "I know that might seem presumptuous, and I understand if my presence might not be welcome. But I believe I can be of assistance, and more importantly, I believe I have a responsibility to help."

Emilia blinked in surprise. "A responsibility? What do you mean?"

Reinhard's expression grew more troubled. "There are many people suffering from the curses that Capella inflicted during the attack on Priestella. For it come from the royal line of our Kingdoom makes the situation even more troubling. The Sage Council is in uproar demanding her blood. And if the Watchtower truly contains the accumulated knowledge of the world, then perhaps there are answers there about how to treat or reverse those curses. Those people are suffering because I wasn't strong enough to stop Capella before she could inflict those curses. I failed in my duty to protect the citizens of Lugnica."

"You can't blame yourself for that," Emilia protested. "The Archbishops are incredibly powerful, and you were fighting multiple threats at once. Nobody could have stopped everything that happened."

"Perhaps not," Reinhard agreed. "But that doesn't change the fact that people are suffering now, and I have the ability to potentially help them. Beyond that, I also have personal reasons for wanting to reach the Watchtower."

He paused, his expression growing even more serious.

"I attempted to breach the Pleiades Watchtower once before, several years ago. I failed. The trials and defenses of that place proved beyond even my abilities at the time. I've carried that failure with me ever since. This feels like an opportunity to atone for that failure. Please excuse my arrogance, but I will also be able to guarantee your safety. So far, I am unaware of any person to have returned from expedition to Augria Sand Dunes alive." The last words were chilling reminder to the group about the incredible danger of their endeavour. It had been four centuries since The Witch Of Envy was sealed and yet not one person managed to breach the Watchtower's defences. If even Reinhard was unable to do so, was there any point in trying? Were they laying down their lives for an absolutely pointless and delusional desire?

Beatrice had been quietly listening to the entire exchange, but now she spoke up. "The Sword Saint joining our expedition would certainly improve our chances of success, I suppose. But it also raises questions about what we'll find when we reach the Watchtower, in fact. If the defenses are strong enough to repel even Reinhard van Astrea, then we need to be prepared for trials that go beyond simple combat."

"Beatrice is right," Emilia agreed. "We can't just rely on having the strongest fighters with us. We need to think carefully about what we might face and how we'll overcome it together."

"Betty is always right, in fact".

Julius nodded, his expression thoughtful. "The Watchtower is said to be guarded by the Sage Shaula, one of the three heroes who sealed the Witch of Envy four hundred years ago. If the legends are true, then we're not just dealing with traps or monsters. We're dealing with someone who has lived for centuries and has access to knowledge and magic beyond anything we can imagine."

"Which is all the more reason to approach this carefully and with as much strength as we can muster, if you would allow me to accompany you of course." Reinhard said.

There was something almost vulnerable in the way he made that request, so different from the usual composed confidence of the Sword Saint. Emilia found herself unable to refuse him, she did not have a reason to refuse in the first place. Quite the opposite, Reinhard coming with them somehow made her heart lighten. The fear and pressure felt less overwhelming in his presence.

"Of course you can join us," she said warmly. "We'd be grateful for your help, Reinhard. The more people we have working together to reach the Watchtower and find answers, the better our chances of success."

Reinhard's expression softened with what might have been relief. "Thank you, Lady Emilia. I promise I'll do everything in my power to ensure this expedition succeeds."

"Then it's settled," Roswaal said, straightening up from where he'd been leaning on the table. "Your group will consist of Emilia-sama, Beatrice, Julius, Ram, Rem, Anastasia-sama and now Reinhard van Astrea. Quite the formidable party, I must say. Though I do wonder if perhaps you're bringing too much firepower for this expedition. All of you are quite well known and recognisable people, it will be impossible to not attract some attention during your journey to the Watchtower".

"There's no such thing as too much firepower when dealing with the Witch Cult," Anastasia deflected, choosing to speak for the first time since the conversation started - "Especially if there's an unknown Archbishop somewhere in the region we need to travel through."

"Fair point," Roswaal conceded. "In that case, I'll make sure you have the best equipment and supplies available. Frederica, please work with the quartermaster to ensure everything is ready for departure within three days."

"Three days?" Emilia repeated. "That's very soon."

"Given what's happened in Mirula and the possibility of encountering another Archbishop, I don't think we should delay any longer than necessary," Roswaal explained. "Every day we wait is another day that those suffering from Gluttony's authority remain in their current state. Another day that Rem continues to sleep without her memories. Another day that answers remain out of reach."

Emilia felt that strange emptiness pulse in her chest again, more insistent this time. She wondered what he would have.... Huh? He?" That odd thought was accompanied by an almost desperate urgency, a feeling that time was running out for something important. She didn't understand where the feeling came from or what it meant, but she couldn't shake it.

"Three days then," she agreed. "We'll be ready."

The meeting continued for another hour as they finalized the remaining details of their expedition. Supply lists were reviewed and adjusted. Route plans were modified to account for the destruction of Mirula. Contingency plans were discussed for various scenarios they might encounter along the way.

Through it all, Emilia couldn't shake that feeling of emptiness, that sense that something vital was missing. She caught Beatrice looking troubled several times as well, her small brow furrowed in confusion as if she too was struggling with something she couldn't quite identify.

When the meeting finally concluded and people began to disperse, Emilia found herself standing alone by the window, staring out at the gardens below. The afternoon sun was beginning to sink toward the horizon, painting everything in shades of gold and amber.

"You felt it too, didn't you, I suppose?"

Emilia turned to find Beatrice standing beside her, having approached so quietly she hadn't noticed.

"Felt what?"

"That strange emptiness, in fact. Like something important is missing but you can't figure out what it is, I suppose."

Emilia hesitated, then nodded slowly. "Yes, I've been feeling that for days now. Ever since we left Priestella. I thought maybe I was just tired or stressed from everything that happened, but..."

"But it feels like more than that, in fact," Beatrice finished. "Betty has been feeling it too, I suppose. It's like standing in a room that should have one more person in it, but when you look around, everyone who should be there already is."

They stood together in silence for a moment, both struggling with a feeling neither could explain or shake.

"Do you think it has something to do with what Gluttony did?" Emilia asked quietly.

"Betty doesn't know, in fact. The Gluttony authority affects memories and names, not feelings or emotions directly, I suppose. But perhaps there are side effects we don't fully understand yet."

"Maybe we'll find answers at the Watchtower," Emilia said, though she didn't sound entirely convinced.

"Maybe, I suppose," Beatrice agreed. Then, more firmly, "But regardless of what we find there, Betty will be by your side the entire time, in fact. I will honour promise that I made to Bubby."

Emilia smiled and reached down to gently pat Beatrice's head. "Thank you, Beatrice. I don't know what I'd do without you."

Outside, the sun continued its descent, and inside the manor, preparations for an uncertain journey continued.

And somewhere in the back of both their minds, that strange emptiness continued to pulse, a constant reminder that something important was missing from their lives, even if they couldn't remember what it was.

Chapter Text

The ground dragon was not cooperating.

Subaru stood in the merchant's stable yard, watching this prideful, imperious creature—a mottled grey beast about the size of a large horse—pointedly ignored him in favor of scratching its back against a fence post. Its long tail swished back and forth with what seemed like deliberate contempt.

"He's a good beast," the merchant was saying, though his tone suggested even he didn't quite believe it. "Strong legs, good stamina. A bit temperamental, but nothing a firm hand can't handle."

Temperamental was putting it mildly. The ground dragon had already tried to bite Subaru twice, and they hadn't even discussed price yet.

Polaris circled Subaru's head in agitated loops, radiating disapproval. The tiny fire spirit had taken an immediate dislike to the ground dragon, and the feeling appeared to be mutual. Every time Polaris drifted too close, the dragon's nostrils flared and it made a low rumbling sound in its throat.

"How much?" Subaru asked, keeping his voice neutral.

The merchant named a price that would have been reasonable if Subaru had any legitimate money to his name. As it was, the coins in his pocket had been "acquired" from various sources during his journey from Priestella. A drunk merchant who'd passed out in an alley. A traveling noble's discarded purse. Small thefts, carefully calculated to avoid drawing attention.

It made his stomach twist with guilt every time, but survival demanded compromises. Subaru apologised for all the thefts and people had robbed in his mind but frankly he had no other choice. He wasn't there to settle down and earn money from honest work. He had decided to embark on a seemingly suicidal quest to the watchtower nobody before had conquered. He could be forgiven slight sins considering his plight, couldn't he?

"25 Gold Coins" said the merchant.

Subaru almost choked at the price the merchant said. Was he joking, did he think he was some kind of retard? 25 Gold Coins? For a ground dragon? Subaru considered just punching the lights out of the guy for this completely unabashed and shameless attempt at extorting money from him. Although no-one of the distress and his internal thoughts showed on his face. Instead he decided to play a little "prank" on the merchant.

"That seems fair," Subaru said and the merchant's eyes narrowed slightly, as if suspicious of anyone who would agree to his first price without haggling.

Subaru reached into his pocket, and at the same moment, Invisible Providence stirred at the edge of his awareness. The shadowy hand materialized for just a moment, completely invisible to the merchant's eye and deftly extracted several additional coins from the merchant's own belt pouch. Subaru had learnt that as long as something was inside the palm of his Invisible Providence, that thing would also be hidden to plain sight. This discovery had been quite useful for his... exploits. Felt would probably be proud of me, thought Subaru.

The transaction completed smoothly. The merchant counted the coins twice, grunted his satisfaction, and handed Subaru the dragon's reins. "Stubborn as hell, but he'll get you where you need to go. Probably."

"Probably?"

"Well, he's never actually killed anyone. That I know of."

Fantastic. Subaru led the dragon out of the stable yard, the beast following with obvious reluctance. Polaris maintained her agitated circling, and Subaru could feel waves of jealous indignation radiating from the tiny spirit.

"You're being ridiculous," Subaru muttered to Polaris. "We need transportation. The Sand Dunes are too far to walk, and unless you can transform into a self-propelled carriage there is nothing we can do".

The fire spirit pulsed brighter, somehow managing to convey wounded pride without words. Subaru sighed.

"I'm not replacing you. You're still my partner. He's just... practical transportation."

Another pulse, this one feeling like reluctant acceptance mixed with continued suspicion. Subaru reached up absently, letting Polaris settle on his palm for a moment. The spirit's warmth never stopped being a comfort to him.

He looked at the dragon, thinking of Patrasche. His Patrasche, left behind with people who no longer remembered him. The dragon who had carried him through so much, who had been alongside him when he fought against the White Whale, who carried him the Sanctuary and Roswaal's mansion when Elsa attacked, who stood up bravely against Garfiel when he went on his rampage. This... beast wasn't her. Could never be her.

"I won't name you," Subaru said quietly to the dragon. "It wouldn't be right. There's only one Patrasche, and she... she deserves better than to be forgotten or replaced."

The dragon snorted, either in agreement or indifference. Subaru chose to believe it was understanding.

"Besides," Subaru continued, managing a weak smile, "someone needs to keep an eye on this guy. Make sure he doesn't try to eat me in my sleep or something."

Polaris brightened considerably at the prospect of having a job. The spirit zipped forward to hover near the dragon's head, radiating what Subaru had learned to interpret as intense scrutiny. The ground dragon's eye tracked the floating flame with obvious wariness.

This was going to be an interesting journey.

The first three days of travel established a pattern that Subaru found both comforting and absurd.

The dragon, despite his initial hostility, proved to be a surprisingly steady mount once they were actually moving. He had a smooth gait that ate up the miles without complaint, and he only tried to bite Subaru twice more.

Polaris, meanwhile, had appointed herself as the dragon's supervisor. The tiny fire spirit spent most of each day hovering around the beast's head, occasionally drifting back to circle Subaru before returning to her self-assigned post. Her presence seemed to keep the dragon on his best behavior, which Subaru suspected was less about actual intimidation and more about the creature finding the constant surveillance annoying enough to cooperate just to make it stop.

"You're like a tiny, floating drill sergeant," Subaru observed one afternoon as Polaris performed another inspection loop around the dragon's head. The spirit pulsed with what felt like pride, and Subaru couldn't help but smile.

The landscape gradually shifted as they travelled east. The lush greenery of Lugnica's forests and grasslands gave way to drier terrain, scattered trees becoming less and less frequent. The air grew warmer, carrying hints of the desert that lay ahead.

Subaru's thoughts often wandered during the long hours of travel. Without the immediate pressure of loops and deaths, his mind had space to process everything that had happened. The torture. The betrayals. The crushing realization that the people he'd died for countless times didn't even remember him.

He should have been more bitter about it. Part of him expected to stew in rage and resentment. Heck, he even considered plotting revenge against his camp, but mostly, he just felt... tired. And maybe a little bit free even.

"I wonder if they've noticed anything," Subaru mused aloud one evening as he set up camp. Polaris hovered nearby, providing light while he worked. "Probably not. Gluttony made sure of that."

The thought should have hurt more than it did. But Subaru was getting quite tired with musing on his lost past and pain that accompanied it.

Polaris drifted closer, pressing against his cheek. The gesture was so unexpectedly tender that Subaru had to blink back the moisture that suddenly appeared in his eyes.

"Thanks, Polaris. You're a good partner."

The spirit glowed brighter, radiating pure contentment.

On the fifth day, Polaris nearly set the dragon's tail on fire.

It wasn't intentional, Subaru was reasonably sure. The spirit had been investigating a strange plant by the roadside, pulsing with curiosity, when she'd accidentally drifted too close to the dragon's twitching tail. The dry grass caught immediately, flames licking up toward the beast's end.

The dragon's reaction was immediate and violent. He reared up, letting out a sound that was part screech and part roar, and if Subaru hadn't been an experienced rider by now he would have been thrown.

"Polaris, stop!" Subaru shouted, simultaneously trying to calm the panicking dragon and use Invisible Providence to smother the flames. The shadowy hand materialised, pressing down on the burning tail until the fire was out.

The dragon continued to dance sideways, snorting and clearly ready to bolt. Polaris had retreated to hover behind Subaru's head, radiating what felt distinctly like embarrassment.

"What were you thinking?" Subaru demanded, though his tone held more exasperation than real anger. "You can't just go around setting things on fire!"

The spirit dimmed slightly, pulsing with what Subaru had learned to recognise as apologetic contrition. It was hard to stay mad at something so small and earnest, even when it caused problems. Subaru also though about his spirit was just doing things on its own. As far as he was aware, Polaris was note even a quasi-spirit yet, but she was quite free-willed and did not seem to wait for his explicit instructions before acting. Not that Subaru was complaining, quite the opposite, he was happy that his spirit was showing her true nature, but still, he remembered how Julius's spirits acted and they seemed more like dead floating orbs compared to Polaris' temperamental character.

"Just... be more careful, okay? He's our transportation. We need him", sighed Subaru.

Another apologetic pulse, followed by what felt like a promise to do better. Subaru reached up to let the spirit settle on his palm.

"You're going to give me grey hair you know?" he muttered. But there was no real heat in the words, and Polaris seemed to understand, brightening slightly.

It took another ten minutes to fully calm the dragon, who kept shooting suspicious glances at the floating fire spirit. Subaru offered the beast some of their dwindling Appa supply as an apology, which he accepted with dignified snort.

They made camp early that night. As Subaru sat by his own carefully controlled campfire (Polaris was not allowed to help with fire-starting anymore, a rule established after the Dragon Incident), he found himself smiling despite the day's chaos.

This was ridiculous. He was travelling to a potentially impossible destination, accompanied by a dragon that tolerated him at best and a spirit that was more adorable menace than actual help. He had no real plan beyond "reach the Watchtower and demand answers." His former allies had condemned him. He was technically a non-existent person in this world, too.

And yet, watching Polaris circle the dragon in her nightly inspection routine (the beast had given up protesting and now simply endured it with weary patience), Subaru could not help but grin in happiness. How absurd it was that camping with a haughty ground dragon and excitable spirit could draw out more genuine emotions than smiles he had been showing Emilia during the whole last year in Miload's Mansion.

"Tomorrow we should reach Mirula," Subaru said to Polaris as the spirit returned to hover near his shoulder. "Last real town before the Sand Dunes. We'll stock up on supplies, rest for a day, then push on toward the Watchtower."

Subaru lay back, using his pack as a pillow, and watched the stars emerge one by one. His thoughts went back to The Pleiades cluster - it had been one of his favourite night-time activities; watching the seven stars brightly shining on him with his dad. Kenichi would ramble on and on about the mythology and beliefs behind all the stars and Subaru would listen captivated and eager just to hear more. He never remembered falling asleep in his dad's lap, it was one of the best memories of his childhood. Gazing at the night sky now, he did not recognise any of them, there were no familiar constellations or twinkles of light that felt familiar to him. That thought saddened him somewhat.

"I'm coming," he whispered to those distant lights. "Whatever it takes, I'm going to find my way home. We can gaze at the stars once more Dad and Mum can complain that it's very late and we should go to sleep."

The stars offered no answer to his declaration, but Polaris settled against his chest, her warmth a small comfort against the cool night. The dragon snorted softly in his sleep. And Subaru closed his eyes content smile on his face.

Mirula appeared on the horizon late in the afternoon of the seventh day, and Subaru's first thought was that it looked like the kind of place where hope went to die.

The town was surrounded everywhere by coarse sand, a collection of low buildings in varying shades of sun-bleached brown and grey. Even from a distance, Subaru could see how the desert was slowly reclaiming the settlement. Sand drifted against walls and piled in doorways. The very  few trees visible were stunted, twisted things that looked like they were fighting for every drop of water.

"Cheerful place," Subaru muttered. Polaris pulsed with what felt like agreement, pressing closer to his shoulder as if seeking comfort.

As they drew closer, more details emerged. The buildings were primarily single-story sandstone and timber monstrosities that had been weathered to the colour of old bones. Most had flat roofs weighted down with rocks against the wind. Windows were small and often shuttered, presumably to keep out the sand. The streets, such as they were, consisted mainly of packed and smooth sand that had been worn by countless feet.

There were people visible, but not many. A few figures moved between buildings, heads down and wrapped in cloth against the dust. Others sat in doorways or under extended rooftops, watching Subaru's approach with the flat, incurious stares of those who had seen too many travellers pass through to care about one more.

Subaru felt that scrutiny like a physical weight. He was obviously an outsider. His clothes, while travel-worn, were cut in the style of Lugnica's interior. His skin hadn't yet taken on the sun-darkened tone of someone who'd spent years in this border region abandoned by rain. Even his dragon, with its mottled grey hide, looked too well-fed compared to the lean, rangy mounts he could see tethered here and there.

I don't belong here, Subaru thought, and tried to ignore the uncomfortable twist in his gut that came with that realization. But I don't belong anywhere anymore, do I? So what's one more place in grand scheme of things?

He guided his dragon toward what looked like the main street, if something so informal could be called that. The buildings here were larger, including what might have been a general store and what was almost certainly a tavern, based on the faded sign depicting a mug of something frothy.

As Subaru dismounted, tying the dragon's reins to a hitching post, he became aware of the silence. It wasn't a peaceful silence. It was the silence of people deliberately not talking, of conversations cut off when a stranger came too close. He could feel eyes on him from shuttered windows and shadowed doorways.

They are Suspicious, wary, Subaru realized with a jolt.

Of course they were. Mirula sat on the edge of the Kingdom of Lugnica, just before Augria Sand Dunes would swallow the horizon, a place of danger and death. Anyone crazy enough to come here was either desperate or dangerous, and the locals had probably learned not to trust either category. Refocusing on the sight in front of him, Subaru could not help but stare. It was the sight of the Pleiades' Watchtower that took away Subaru's breath. It was fantastical, imposing and unlike anything that he had every seen before. It was blinding to look at, the smooth white stoned monstrosity that towered over the Dunes was easily couple hundred meters tall - the side pillars extending from round dome on top encased in hazy clouds looked like clip wings of an angel. It was mesmerising, unbelievable and also familiar for some reason.

Polaris flickered uncertainly near his shoulder. Subaru reached up to let the spirit settle on his palm for a moment, drawing comfort from her warmth.

"It's okay," he whispered. "We'll just get supplies, find a place to sleep, and be gone tomorrow. Easy."

The spirit pulsed with what felt like doubt, and Subaru couldn't blame her.

He approached the general store, each step stirring up small clouds of dust that coated his boots and the hem of his traveling cloak. The door was propped open, probably to encourage what little breeze existed, and Subaru stepped inside to find a dim interior packed with goods of every description.

The shopkeeper was a weathered man who might have been anywhere from forty to sixty, his skin like tanned leather and his eyes sharp beneath bushy eyebrows. He watched Subaru enter, nodded once in acknowledgment, and said nothing.

"I need supplies," Subaru said, trying to sound confident and failing. "Food, water, rope. Equipment for desert travel."

The shopkeeper's eyebrows rose slightly. "Desert travel."

"Yes."

"The Augria Sand Dunes?"

"Yes."

A long pause. Then the shopkeeper turned and began pulling items from shelves, still without speaking. Subaru watched him work, unsure if the silence was judgment or just the man's normal demeanor.

"You'll want water skins," the shopkeeper finally said. "Multiple. The heat out there will kill you faster than any Mabeast if you run out. And some proper cloth, whatever piece of fabric you are wearing now is guaranteed to leave you suffering heatstroke in less than a day. Besides the fact that sand gets everywhere during the storms."

"Storms?"

The shopkeeper gave him a look that suggested Subaru was either biggest moron he had ever talked to or suicidal. Possibly both.

"The Sand Times. Unpredictable, no pattern to it. Winds come up out of nowhere, carrying sand that is sometimes strong enough to even strip flesh from bone if you're caught in it unprotected. Anyone who knows the Dunes knows to find shelter when the Sand Times come. If you're planning to cross, you'd better learn to read the signs. Besides, there are Mabeasts that will make anything that you will see in rest of the kingdom look like cute puppies. There is also heavy Witch Miasma in the dunes, it's so heavy that it's practically impossible to not get poisoned by it. You will go mad, die from heatstroke, get devoured by Sandworms or just get plain lost in the storm. Do not go there boy, I will warn you once."

Subaru's stomach sank. The way shopkeeper was looking at him made him feel like he should have pre-ordered his gravestone before coming here. Still he did not say anything. What was there to say, he already knew about the dangers of this place. There wasn't going back, not any more.

The shopkeeper continued pulling items—water skins made from some kind of treated leather. He added dried meat, hard bread that looked like it could double as a weapon, and several sealed containers of what he labelled as emergency rations.

"This should keep you alive for maybe a week," the shopkeeper said, arranging everything on the counter. "If you're smart and careful and lucky. Most people aren't all three."

Subaru paid with the last of his stolen coins, trying not to think about what he'd do when this money ran out. The shopkeeper counted the payment twice, his expression never changing, then pushed the supplies toward Subaru.

"The inn's two buildings down. Hadir runs it. Tell him Kareem sent you and he might give you a decent rate." The shopkeeper—Kareem, apparently—paused, then added, "Though if you're really planning to cross the Dunes, there ain't any reason for you to save your money. Won't need it where you're going."

It wasn't said with malice, just flat certainty. The way someone might observe that water was wet or that the sun rose in the east.

"Thanks for the advice," Subaru said, gathering his supplies.

Kareem grunted and that was that.

The inn was exactly as promising as Mirula itself suggested.

It was a squat building of sandstone blocks, two stories tall with a flat roof and narrow windows. A faded sign hung above the door, the painted text so worn that Subaru could barely make out what might have been "Rest" or "Respite" or possibly just someone's name.

Inside was a common room that smelled of dust, old cooking oil, and something vaguely animal. A handful of patrons sat at crude wooden tables, nursing drinks and speaking in low murmurs that stopped when Subaru entered. The scrutiny was immediate and uncomfortable.

Behind a counter that doubled as a bar stood a large man with arms like tree trunks and a beard that had probably last been trimmed during the previous lunar cycle. This, presumably, was Hadir.

"Looking for a room," Subaru said, approaching the counter.

Hadir looked him up and down slowly, his gaze lingering on the dragon visible through the open door, on Polaris hovering near Subaru's shoulder, on the supplies Subaru carried.

"Desert supplies," Hadir observed. His voice was deep and gravelly, like rocks tumbling in a barrel. "Heading into the Dunes?"

"Yes."

"Alone?"

"Yes."

Hadir's expression didn't change, but something shifted in his eyes. Not quite pity, but close. "Room's two silver a night. Three if you want a meal with it. Stable for the dragon is another silver."

Subaru paid for one night with a meal, handing over coins that left his purse feeling dangerously light. Hadir took the payment, gestured to a staircase barely visible in the dimness, and said, "Third door on the right. Don't cause trouble."

The room was small, barely large enough for a narrow bed, a washstand, and a wooden chest that had seen better decades. A single window looked out over Mirula's dusty streets. The bed had a mattress that was mostly lumps and a blanket that might have originally been white but was now the color of desert sand.

Subaru dropped his supplies on the chest, sank onto the bed, and immediately regretted it as something in the mattress poked him in the lower back.

"Well," he said to Polaris, who had immediately popped up once Subaru closed to door to his room. The spirit was investigating the room with systematic curiosity, "at least we have a roof."

The spirit paused in her inspection of a cobweb in the corner and pulsed with what felt distinctly like scepticism.

"Okay, we have something vaguely roof-adjacent. Happy?"

Another pulse, this one feeling like reluctant acceptance. Polaris returned to Subaru's side, settling on his shoulder, and together they looked out the window at the desolate town beyond.

It was mid afternoon, sun was painting the desert sky in hues of yellow. It was hot and uncomfortable. Perhaps this place would have been vaguely beautiful if not for how isolated and vulnerable it felt. Mirula sat at the edge of civilization, a last outpost before endless gleam of yellowish wasteland swallowed everything.

How long before the desert takes this place too? Subaru wondered. How long before the sand buries these buildings and the people just give up and leave?

He shook off the morbid thought. He was only here for one night. Tomorrow he'd make final preparations and push on toward the Augria Sand Dunes proper. Then it would be him, his dragon, Polaris, and whatever trials lay between here and the Pleiades Watchtower.

"No pressure at all," Subaru muttered.

The meal that evening was served in the common room, and it was exactly as appetizing as Subaru had expected. Some kind of stew that might have contained meat at some point in its history, served with the moldiest bread Subaru had ever seen in his life. He barely managed not to choke.

The other patrons continued to watch him with that uncomfortable mixture of curiosity and suspicion. Subaru kept his head down, focusing on his meal, trying to be invisible. Just one night Natsuki Subaru, Just get through one night and then—

"Well, well, well! What do we have here?"

The voice cut through the low murmur of conversation like a knife. It was cheerful, almost sing-song, but with an underlying quality that made Subaru's skin crawl.

Subaru looked up.

Standing in the doorway was a young boy, endless brown hair and eyes that gleamed with an unsettling intensity and madness. He was grinning, showing too many sharpened teeth, and his gaze was fixed directly on Subaru with the focus of a predator that had just spotted prey.

The entire common room had gone silent. Hadir behind the bar had gone very still, his hand moving slowly toward something beneath the counter.

"Aaah, this scent!" The young man took a deep, theatrical breath, his grin widening impossibly further. "So thick, so rich, so delicious! The Witch's stench clings to you like perfume, doesn't it? Tell me Natsuki Subaru, are you perhaps our brother, are you pride?"

Subaru's blood ran cold. No it can't be. Not here, no, no no. His hand moved instinctively toward his whip, but his mind was frozen, unable to process what he was hearing.

"Who—"

"Oh, where are my manners?" The young man performed an exaggerated bow. "Lye Batenkaitos, Archbishop of Gluttony, at your service! Though you already know who we are don't you? After all, we ate someone very precious to you. Someone who called you... what was it? Ah yes!"

The grin became something monstrous.

"Hero."

Rem. He was talking about Rem thought Subaru in crazed fury. This was one of the Archbishops who had—

"You have messed with events quite bad, haven't you, Natsuki Subaru?" Lye's voice dropped to something darker, more dangerous, though the smile never left his face. "My brother has talked all about, and what a fun tale it was - Abandoning your precious camp, running away like a coward".

Subaru's chair scraped back as he stood, his whip already in hand. But Lye was faster.

The Archbishop moved like liquid shadow, closing the distance between them in an impossible instant. Subaru saw the blade—when had there been a blade?—saw it coming for his throat, tried to dodge—

The steel was cold against his neck. For a single, crystalline moment, Subaru felt the pressure, felt the bite of metal against flesh.

Then pain exploded through his nervous system like lightning.

His vision tilted. The world spun. He saw the ceiling of the inn, saw Polaris's flame flaring bright with panic and terror, saw Hadir frozen behind the counter with his mouth open in a shout that Subaru couldn't hear over the roaring in his ears.

He was falling.

No. Not falling.

His head was falling.

Oh god oh god oh god—

Subaru's vision tumbled, the world rotating impossibly. He saw his own body, still standing for a moment that stretched into eternity. Saw the arterial spray erupting from the stump of his neck, blood exploding like a geyeser in a crimson arc that painted the inn's walls, the floor, the faces of screaming patrons.

His body swayed. His body—his body—took one step, two, then collapsed like a puppet with its strings cut. Blood continued to pour from the ragged wound, pooling across the floorboards in an expanding lake of red.

That's me. That's my body. I'm looking at my own corpse. I'm looking at—

Polaris's scream was soundless but somehow audible anyway, a psychic wail of pure agony and terror. The tiny fire spirit blazed brighter than Subaru had ever seen, her flames turning white-hot with grief and rage.

Subaru's head hit the floor. The impact sent a final jolt of sensation through his dying nerves. His vision was fading, darkness creeping in from the edges.

The last thing he saw was Lye Batenkaitos, standing over his corpse, licking blood from his fingers with an expression of ecstasy.

"Aaah! No matter how much I eat, it's still not enough! This is why we can't stop livin'! Eat, eat, bite, chew, swallow, swallow more, tear, crush, drink! Gorge! Aaah, that was a feast—"

The voice cut off as Subaru's vision went black.

And then—

Subaru was standing at the entrance to Mirula, the sun still hanging in the sky, the town spread out before him exactly as it had been an hour ago.

He managed three steps before his stomach revolted.

Subaru fell to his knees and vomited, his entire body heaving. The contents of his stomach—food he hadn't technically eaten yet—splattered across the dusty ground. He retched again, then again, even after there was nothing left to expel.

My head. He cut off my head. I saw my own body. I saw—

Another wave of nausea. Subaru's hands clawed at the dirt, his nails breaking against the hard-packed earth. His throat burned. His whole body was shaking so hard his teeth chattered.

The blood. So much blood. My blood. My body just standing there and then falling and the blood wouldn't stop—

Polaris was frantic, terrified. The spirit circled him in tight, agitated loops, pressing against his face, his hands, trying to ground him, trying to reach him through the panic.

Subaru couldn't breathe. His chest was too tight. The world was spinning and he couldn't—he couldn't—

Warmth. Polaris settled against his chest, directly over his heart, and pushed.  The tiny fire spirit flooded him with every ounce of comfort and love she could muster, burning away the worst of the panic attack through sheer desperate affection.

Gradually, slowly, Subaru's breathing steadied. The shaking didn't stop, but it became manageable. He could think again, even if every thought was colored by the memory of cold steel and falling and watching his own corpse bleed out.

"Polaris," he whispered, his voice raw. "He's here. Gluttony. Lye Batenkaitos. He's going to attack the inn in less than an hour."

The spirit did not understand, but she could feel the panic, fear and fury intermingling in her contractor's mind.

Subaru pushed himself to his feet, wiping his mouth with a shaking hand. His dragon was nearby, having stopped when Subaru did, watching with wary concern.

"Okay," Subaru said, forcing his voice to steady even as his hands continued to tremble. "Okay. I know what's coming. I know when and where. I can... I can prepare for this."

Can you? a traitorous part of his mind whispered. He killed you in one move. You didn't even see it coming. What makes you think you can fight an Archbishop?

Subaru shoved that thought down. He'd fought Archbishops before. He'd killed Petelgeuse. He'd survived encounters with Regulus. He could do this.

He had to do this.

Because if he didn't, Lye Batenkaitos would slaughter everyone in that inn, would destroy this entire town, would— Would kill people who have nothing to do with any of this. People who are just trying to survive in this harsh place. And he is here because of you, Natsuki Subaru.

Subaru took a deep breath, then another. His hands were still shaking, but his mind was clearing. The panic was fading, replaced by cold, hard determination.

"Come on," he said to Polaris and his dragon. "We're going to get our supplies and go to that inn. But this time, I'm ready for him."

Hadir looked up when Subaru entered, taking in the pale, shaken appearance with a critical eye. The innkeeper's weathered face creased with what might have been concern.

"You look like hell, boy."

"Feel like it too," Subaru admitted, his voice hoarse.

Hadir studied him for a long moment, then grunted and reached under the counter. He produced a glass and a bottle of something amber, pouring a generous measure and sliding it across to Subaru.

"I didn't order—"

"On the house," Hadir said gruffly. "You've got that look. Seen it before on soldiers coming back from bad campaigns. Whatever's got you spooked, you need something stronger than water."

Subaru stared at the drink, then at Hadir. Subaru did not drink, he never had before, but something pushed him to accept that innkeeper's kindness. Hadir's expression was gruff, almost annoyed, but there was genuine concern in his eyes. The kind of tsundere care that said "I'm not doing this because I like you, idiot" while clearly doing exactly that.

"Thanks," Subaru managed weakly, taking the glass with both hands to keep it steady. The liquid burned going down, but it was a clean burn, and it helped chase away some of the lingering chill from death.

"You planning to tell me what's got you so rattled?" Hadir asked, refilling the glass without being asked. "Or am I supposed to guess?"

Subaru opened his mouth, closed it. How could he explain? In about forty minutes, an Archbishop of the Witch Cult is going to walk through that door and try to kill me. I know because he already succeeded once.

Yeah, that would go over great.

"Bad feeling," Subaru finally said. "About tonight. About this place."

Hadir snorted. "Bad feelings are cheap around here. This close to the Dunes, bad feelings are practically currency." He paused, then added more quietly, "But you've got more than just nerves, don't you? That's real fear in your eyes. Seen it enough times to know the difference."

Subaru took another drink, using the moment to gather his thoughts. Polaris hovered near his shoulder, still radiating protective concern.

"If something dangerous came through that door," Subaru asked carefully, "how would you deal with it?"

Hadir's eyes narrowed. "What kind of dangerous?"

"The kind that kills fast and doesn't ask questions first."

A long pause. Hadir reached under the counter again and this time produced a crossbow, already loaded, which he set down with deliberate care.

"Keep order in my inn, that's how. This close to the Dunes, you learn to be ready for trouble." His expression hardened. "You expecting trouble specifically, boy?"

"Maybe," Subaru admitted. "I'm... not sure. But if something happens, stay behind the counter. Get everyone out if you can."

"That's not exactly reassuring."

"I know."

Hadir studied Subaru for another long moment, then pushed the bottle across the bar. "Well, whatever's coming, you'll face it better with some liquid courage. And for what it's worth..." He paused, looking almost embarrassed. "You've got that look. The one that says you've lost people. Lost them bad. So if you're trying to prevent something... good luck. Not that I care or anything. Just bad for business if my customers get slaughtered."

It was so transparently false that Subaru almost smiled. "Thanks, Hadir. Really."

"Hmph. Don't thank me yet. Just don't bleed all over my floor."

Subaru positioned himself at a table with clear sight-lines to both the entrance and the back door. He'd learned it from all his loop, especially the very first one, Elsa was a good teacher—always know your exits. His whip was coiled and ready. Invisible Providence stirred at the edges of his consciousness, dark and eager.

Polaris settled near his shoulder, her flames burning steadier now, ready to act at a moment's notice.

Subaru tracked the time by his racing heartbeat. Thirty minutes. Twenty. Ten.

Come on, you scum, Subaru thought, his jaw clenched. This time I'm ready for you.

The door opened.

Lye Batenkaitos stepped inside, all wild hair and manic grin, his eyes already scanning the room with predatory focus. His gaze locked onto Subaru almost immediately, and the grin widened.

"Well, well, well! What do we have—"

Subaru didn't let him finish.

Invisible Providence lashed out with all the force Subaru could muster, the invisible shadowy hand materialising and grabbing for Lye's throat. At the same instant, Subaru's whip cracked through the air, aimed not at Lye but at the oil lamp hanging near the door.

The lamp shattered. Oil splashed across the entrance. Polaris didn't need to be told—the little fire spirit shot forward like a bullet, her flames igniting the oil in an explosive burst.

Fire roared to life, cutting off the doorway, turning the entrance into a wall of flame.

Lye's eyes widened—not in fear, but in delighted surprise. He barely twisted aside from Invisible Providence and fire with inhuman speed, his grin never faltering.

"Oho! Now this is interesting! You were ready for us Natsuki Subaru? My brother wasn't wrong about you after all. Very well, bring it on Hero!".

Chapter Text

Subaru's whip cracked again, this time aimed at Lye himself. The Archbishop moved, impossibly fast, and suddenly he was six feet to the left, as if he'd simply skipped the space between.

He can teleport short distances, Subaru realized in horror.

"Hadir!" Subaru shouted, voice full of panic. "Get everyone out! Now!"

The innkeeper needed no further encouragement. His crossbow came up, a warning bolt thudding into the wall near Lye's head as Hadir began herding the handful of terrified patrons toward the back exit.

Lye ignored them completely, his attention fixed on Subaru with that unsettling intensity. "You're prepared. How curious. Did someone warn you about us? No matter, this will be fun regardless!"

He leaped again and this time he was inside Subaru's guard, a wicked curved blade materializing in his hand. The steel came for Subaru's throat in a vicious arc.

Invisible Providence caught Lye's wrist mid-swing.

The Archbishop's eyes widened in genuine surprise as the invisible force stopped his attack cold. "Oh? OH! What a fascinating—"

Subaru's whip caught him across the face, the weighted tip drawing a line of blood across Lye's cheek. The Archbishop stumbled back, more from surprise than actual damage, his free hand coming up to touch the wound.

"You can hurt us!" Lye's voice was delighted, ecstatic. "This will be fun!"

Then he moved.

Lye became a blur of motion, his blade weaving patterns in the air that Subaru's eyes couldn't track.

The first cut opened a line across Subaru's shoulder. The second carved into his ribs. The third—

Invisible Providence lashed out wildly, forcing Lye back a step. Subaru rolled sideways, pain screaming through his body, his whip cracking out in a desperate attempt to create space.

Polaris shot forward, her flames blazing bright, forcing Lye to dodge. The fire spirit attacked with savage determination, shining the inn with concentrated Goas as her flames left scorch marks across the wooden floor.

Lye laughed, actually laughed, as he danced between Polaris's attacks. "Even your little pet has teeth! Wonderful!"

He leaped again, this time behind Subaru. The blade came for Subaru's spine—

Subaru twisted, Invisible Providence forming a barrier just in time. The steel scraped against the invisible force, Lye's eyes lighting up with manic glee.

"That authority of yours is quite something! Tell me Hero, are you perhaps pride?"

Before Subaru could even process the question, the Archbishop's knee came up, catching Subaru in the stomach. Air exploded from his lungs. Before he could recover, Lye's blade was there, stabbing down toward his chest—

A crossbow bolt whistled through the air, forcing Lye to abort his attack. Hadir stood near the bar, already reloading, his weathered face set in grim determination.

"Get away from my customer, you Cultist bastard!"

"Oh?" Lye turned his attention to the innkeeper, tilting his head with predatory interest. "A hero, are we? How—"

Wind suddenly howled through the common room.

Subaru's eyes widened as Hadir's hand extended, a visible current of air spiralling around his fingers. The wind gathered, intensified, and then roared forward in a concentrated blast that caught Lye completely off-guard.

The Archbishop was thrown backward, slamming into the wall hard enough to crack the wood. His grin finally faltered, replaced by surprise.

"Wind magic?" Lye pushed himself up, brushing dust from his clothes. "My, my. This remote little inn is full of surprises."

The wind intensified, responding to Hadir's desire, gathering into a concentrated sphere that shot toward Lye like a cannonball.

Lye leaped, appearing on the opposite side of the room. But Hadir was already moving, his hands weaving through practised motions as another wind spell formed.

"Boy!" Hadir shouted to Subaru. "I'll keep him moving, you hit him when he stops!"

Subaru struggled to his feet, his ribs screaming in agony from where Lye had cut him. Blood soaked through his shirt, warm and sticky. But he raised his whip, Invisible Providence coiling around him like a protective shroud, and nodded.

Hadir's wind magic was impressive and most importantly almost instant, he sent blasts of compressed air at Lye from multiple angles, forcing the Archbishop to keep leaping, never letting him settle into an attack rhythm.

Polaris seized the opportunity, her flames spreading across the wooden floor where the oil lamp had shattered earlier. The already roaring fire at the entrance began to grow further, fed by the dry wood and scattered alcohol from broken bottles.

"Yes!" Subaru saw the opening. "Keep the flames going!"

Hadir understood immediately. Wind magic gathered around the flames, feeding them, directing them. The fire began to spiral, forming a crude but effective vortex of heat and light.

Lye's laughter cut through the roar of flames. "Clever! Using wind to intensify fire. However..." His grin returned, manic and wild. "We've eaten many mages in our time!"

The Archbishop's hand extended. "Huma!"

A barrier of shimmering water materialized around Lye, the flames hissing and steaming as they struck the protective shell. The fire tornado collapsed, steam filling the room and obscuring visibility.

"Shit!" Subaru tried to track Lye's position through the steam, but the Archbishop could be anywhere—

Movement. A blur in the vapor. Subaru lashed out with Invisible Providence, but hit nothing.

"Too slow!" Lye's voice came from behind him.

Pain exploded through Subaru's back as the blade sank deep between his ribs. He gasped, blood filling his mouth, as Lye twisted the weapon.

"Aaah, that's the taste we were waiting for!" The Archbishop's voice was ecstatic. "The fear, the pain, the desperation! You're so full of the Witch's love, Hero, and it makes you delicious!"

Subaru's vision was darkening. He could hear Hadir shouting, could see Polaris blazing with desperate fury as she attacked Lye's face, forcing him to pull the blade free.

I need to... I need to...

The world tilted. Subaru hit the floor, blood pooling beneath him. His eyes caught sight of Lye standing over him, licking blood from his blade with that expression of absolute ecstasy.

Everything went black.

Subaru was standing at the entrance to Mirula, the sun still hanging in the sky, the town spread out before him exactly as it had been.

He managed two steps before dropping to his knees, his hands clutching at the packed dirt. The memory of the blade between his ribs was so fresh, so vivid. The sensation of drowning in his own blood, of watching the light fade—

No. Focus. Think.

Polaris hovered nearby, sensing his distress. Subaru took several deep breaths, forcing his hands to stop shaking.

Lye is fast. Absurdly fast. Whatever ability he has lets him teleport short distances or at least move so quickly it seems like one, and he has the accumulated combat skills of hundreds, maybe thousands, of victims. He can also most likely use any kind of magic but it seems that he wants to avoid doing it. Why? Does he not want to waste mana? Does he prefer direct hand to hand combat and using his other abilities instead? He's strong enough to completely dominate in close combat. And this wasn't even all of his strength, I am sure of it. He could have chopped my neck of multiple times but instead he toyed with me. He toyed with Hadir too. But he's arrogant. He plays with his food. And Hadir's magic caught him off-guard the first time. The element of surprise is crucial. If he underestimates us too badly, then we might have a chance.

Subaru stood, wiping dust from his pants. His dragon watched him with wary concern.

"Again," Subaru muttered. "Let's try this again."

The second attempt went worse.

Subaru tried a different tactic, ambushing Lye the moment he entered, using Invisible Providence to collapse part of the ceiling on him while Hadir hit him with wind magic from behind.

It worked for approximately five seconds.

Then Lye used something he called Carnivorous Beast, his body suddenly emanating a predatory aura that made Subaru's instincts scream. The Archbishop's strength increased dramatically, he simply punched through the falling debris, wood and stone exploding around his enhanced fist.

"Is that all?" Lye's voice was disappointed. "We expected more from person who was so praised by our brother".

He closed the distance in a heartbeat. His fist caught Subaru in the chest and it felt like being hit by a car. Subaru's ribs shattered, his sternum caved in, and he was airborne before the pain even registered.

He hit the far wall. Something in his spine made a wet crunching sound.

The last thing Subaru saw was Lye walking toward him, shaking his head in mock disappointment.

"Such a waste of potential... Hero."

Third attempt.

Subaru tried keeping his distance, using Invisible Providence to throw furniture, bottles, anything he could grab at Lye while Hadir provided covering fire with his magic. Polaris darted in and out, trying to burn the Archbishop whenever he stopped moving.

Lye responded by using Leaper in rapid succession, teleporting around the room so fast he left afterimages. One moment he was at the door, the next he was beside Hadir, his blade already swinging-

Hadir managed to block with a hastily-formed wind barrier, but the impact sent him sprawling. Before Subaru could react, Lye had leaped again, appearing directly in front of him.

"Boo."

The blade took Subaru's head off in a single, casual motion.

Fourth attempt.

Fifth attempt.

Sixth attempt.

Each one ended in death. Each one revealed new horrors of what Lye Batenkaitos was capable of.

In the fourth loop, Lye transformed for the first time, Solar Eclipse that's what he called it. Subaru could only watch helplessly in terror as Lye took on the appearance of a massive, scarred warrior. His already impressive strength doubled, and he tore through Hadir's wind barriers like they were paper. But he also noticed the intense discomfort during his transformation. So, he prefers to not use this ability for whatever reasons.

In the fifth and sixth loops, Subaru tried running. He grabbed his supplies, mounted his dragon, and fled Mirula the moment he arrived. Both times Lye caught him just outside town, appearing from the darkness with that manic grin. "Did you really think we'd let such a delicious meal escape?" The Archbishop's blade found Subaru's heart before he could even draw his whip.

Seventh attempt.

Eighth attempt.

Ninth attempt.

Subaru was breaking.

Each death chipped away at his sanity. Each reset left him more desperate, more willing to try anything, no matter how insane. He tried traps, ambushes, different weapons, different tactics. Nothing worked. Lye was simply too fast, too skilled, too experienced.

The Archbishop seemed to enjoy the challenge, as if Subaru's resistance made the meal taste better.

Tenth attempt.

Subaru stood in Mirula, staring at the town with hollow eyes. Polaris circled him frantically, her flames pulsing with agitation.

"I can't beat him," Subaru whispered to the empty air. "He's too strong. Too fast. Too... everything."

But giving up wasn't an option. If he fled, Lye would follow. If he stayed, people would die. The the Archbishop had come to Mirula specifically for Subaru. He did not know the reason, but it wasn't like it mattered. He was dead anyway. If Subaru was here, Lye would attack. If Subaru ran, Lye would chase.

Eleventh attempt.

Subaru entered the inn with a plan forming in his mind. He needed to study Lye, really study him. Watch how he moved, how he fought, how he used his stolen abilities.

When Lye entered and the fight began, Subaru focused entirely on observation. He didn't try to win, just to learn. He watched how Lye's body tensed before using Leaper, the subtle shift in weight that preceded his attacks, how he favoured the leg for the direction which he was going to leap to. Subaru observed the way his eyes tracked multiple targets simultaneously.

The Archbishop killed him in under a minute, but Subaru had learned.

Twelfth attempt.

More observation. This time Subaru noticed the patterns in how Lye combined his abilities. The way he'd teleport to close distance, then immediately follow with either Palm of the Fist King or a blade strike depending on his opponent's position. He had two blades, but the one he used for striking was the opposite of the leg he pushed on for leaping. Whenever he leaped right, he would use his right leg to create the movement and then immediately his left hand would swing his blade at Subaru.

Thirteen seconds this time before death found him.

Thirteenth attempt.

Twenty seconds before the blade found his throat.

Fourteenth attempt.

Subaru began experimenting with Invisible Providence, trying to extend multiple hands at once. It was agonising, like trying to control extra limbs that didn't exist, his mind screaming in protest at the wrongness of it.

He managed three hands before his concentration broke. Lye took advantage of the moment of weakness, his blade punching through Subaru's lung.

"Losing focus already?" Lye's voice was disappointed. "And here we thought you'd provide more entertainment."

Fifteenth attempt.

Subaru stood at Mirula's entrance, his hands shaking, his mind fraying at the edges. Fourteen deaths. Fourteen times feeling steel pierce his flesh, feeling his life drain away, feeling that horrible moment when consciousness faded to black.

"One more," he whispered. "One more time. I can do this. I will to do this."

Polaris pressed against his cheek, her warmth the only thing keeping him grounded. Subaru took a deep breath, then another, forcing his racing heart to slow.

He'd learned so much. Lye's patterns, his tells, his preferred combinations. The way he'd use Carnivorous Beast for raw power but sacrificed some speed. The way Leaper required a split-second of concentration, leaving him vulnerable mid-teleport if you timed it right.

And Subaru had felt something during the fourteenth loop. When he'd manifested three hands of Invisible Providence, there had been a moment, a brief, terrifying moment, when he'd sensed something more. A reservoir of power that he'd barely touched, dark and hungry and eager to be used.

If I push harder. If I go further. If I stop holding back...

"Let's end this," Subaru said quietly.

He entered Mirula with purpose, made his preparations with methodical precision. He spoke with Kareem, bought his supplies, secured his room at the inn. He had memorised the speech pattern, the best words to manipulate Hadir with, everything was learnt and predetermined; that first hour Subaru worked on autopilot. It was revolting and horrifying how Return By Death reduced living breathing people to checkpoints and NPC-esque dialogues in this head.

"You expecting serious trouble?" Hadir asked, eyeing Subaru with concern.

"The worst kind," Subaru admitted. "But I have a plan. When the fight starts, I need you to do something specific. Can you manipulate air? Remove it from a specific area, then return it all at once?"

Hadir frowned, scratching his beard. "Aye, I can create a vacuum with wind magic. It's taxing, but possible. Why?"

"Because we're going to create an explosion. And then we're going to trap something very dangerous in fire that won't go out."

When Lye Batenkaitos walked through the inn's door, Subaru was ready.

The Archbishop's eyes locked onto him immediately, that manic grin spreading across his face. "Well, well, well! What do we have—"

Subaru struck first, but not with his whip or Invisible Providence, but with words carefully chosen to provoke. "You talk a lot for someone who eats people because he's too weak to earn his own power."

Lye's grin froze. His eyes went cold.

"What did you say?"

"You heard me. You're a scavenger. A bottom-feeder. You can't create anything, can't earn anything, so you steal from people actually worth something. How many of those skills you and your disgusting brother use did you actually earn? Zero, right? You're empty, a revolting parasite wearing stolen skin."

The temperature in the room seemed to drop. Lye's manic energy shifted into something far more dangerous, genuine killing intent.

"You dare",

He moved, faster than before, actually angry now instead of playful. His blade came for Subaru's heart in a strike meant to kill, not maim.

Subaru was ready.

Invisible Providence caught Lye's wrist, but this time, Subaru didn't stop at one hand. He pushed, manifesting a second shadowy hand that grabbed Lye's ankle. Then a third, wrapping around the Archbishop's other arm.

The strain was immediate and excruciating. Subaru's vision blurred, pain lancing through his skull as his brain tried to process controlling three separate invisible limbs.

But he held on.

"Hadir! The lamp!"

The innkeeper didn't hesitate. His wind magic shot out, deliberately knocking over the oil lamp near the door. Fire spread immediately across the wooden floor, flames licking hungrily at the dry timber.

Lye snarled, trying to use Leaper, but Subaru's Invisible Providence held him firm for just a moment. Long enough for the fire to spread, long enough for smoke to begin filling the room.

"Everyone out! NOW!" Hadir roared, and the remaining patrons scrambled for the back exit.

Lye broke free with a burst of strength, Carnivorous Beast, his muscles swelling, and Subaru's three hands shattered like glass. The Archbishop's blade came for his throat, but Subaru was already moving, his whip cracking out to force Lye back into the spreading flames.

"You think fire will stop us?" Lye laughed, his Huma barrier forming. "We've eaten fire mages! Water mages! We are the accumulation of-"

"Hadir! Wind!"

The innkeeper's hands moved through practised patterns and wind howled through the burning common room, but instead of feeding the flames, it gathered them, spinning them into a vortex. The fire tornado formed quickly, trapping Lye in its center, but the Archbishop's water barrier held, steam exploding outward.

"Predictable!" Lye's voice cut through the roar. "We already know this trick! Water beats-"

The fire suddenly guttered out. Every bit of oxygen in the area around Lye simply vanished as Hadir's wind magic created a perfect vacuum. The fire tornado collapsed, the flames dying, leaving only smoke and super heated air around the archbishop.

Lye's eyes widened in confusion. His water barrier was still up, but there was nothing to defend against. "What-"

"Goa!" - yelled Subaru and immediately Polaris leapt to the Archbishop throwing concentrated balls of super heated air.

Lye saw it coming, he was about to leap away when Hadir released the vacuum.

Air rushed back into the space around Lye with explosive force. The superheated particles, the lingering smoke, the oxygen-starved environment - all of it ignited simultaneously as fresh air flooded in.

The explosion was magnificent.

A sphere of fire erupted around Lye, the combustion so intense it blew out the remaining windows. The Archbishop's water barrier shattered under the pressure, steam exploding outward as the flames consumed everything.

Lye screamed, not in pain, but in fury. His body was already healing, Carnivorous Beast reinforcing his flesh even as it burned. He leaped out of the fireball, his clothes smouldering, his skin blistered but already regenerating.

"CLEVER!" His voice was manic, delighted despite the damage. "Very clever! Tell us, Hero, what else can you -"

"Now!" Subaru shouted. "Keep him burning!"

The fire from the explosion had spread throughout the inn. The wooden walls were ablaze, the floor cracking and popping as flames consumed it. The entire building was becoming an inferno.

Hadir's wind magic surged again, but this time it fed the flames instead of controlling them. Great gusts of air fanned the fire, making it burn hotter, brighter, spreading it across every surface. The innkeeper was pouring mana recklessly now, his weathered face strained with effort.

"El Fura!" More wind, more oxygen, feeding the flames until they burned white-hot.

The fire tornado reformed, but this time it was massive, drawing from every burning surface in the inn, spinning faster and tighter around Lye. The Archbishop tried to Leap away, but Subaru was ready.

Four hands of Invisible Providence shot out, grabbing Lye's limbs. The strain made Subaru's nose bleed, but he held on, kept the Archbishop centered in the flames.

"You can't hold us!" Lye activated Carnivorous Beast again, his strength surging. One of Subaru's hands broke-

A fifth hand manifested, replacing it. Then a sixth, wrapping around Lye's torso.

Subaru's vision was starting to fragment. Blood ran from both nostrils. But he could feel Lye now, could sense the Archbishop's movements, his intentions. Every time Lye tried to activate Leaper, Invisible Providence squeezed, breaking his focus, forcing him to stay in the burning vortex.

"The building's coming down!" Hadir shouted. "We need to get out!"

"Not yet!" Subaru's voice was ragged. "Keep the wind going! Don't let the fire die!"

The inn's roof was collapsing, burning timbers falling. The walls were beginning to buckle. But the fire tornado burned on, fed by Hadir's relentless wind magic.

Lye was screaming now, his flesh charring, his stolen skills failing as the heat overwhelmed even Carnivorous Beast's enhancements. But he wasn't dead, the Archbishop's vitality was monstrous, his body refusing to give up.

"We'll kill you!" Lye's voice was distorted by burned vocal cords. "We'll eat you! We'll—"

A seventh hand.

Eighth.

The strain was unbearable. Subaru could feel something inside him cracking. It did not feel like the first time he had used the Invisible Providence. That time it was pure physical torture, pain beyond anything he had felt. But now he was feeling hollowness and chill invade him inside, it felt like something was eating at his core, his soul.

But he needed more. Needed to hold Lye just a little longer-

The roof collapsed.

Burning timber crashed down around them. Subaru dove aside, his concentration breaking, and Lye leaped outside, into the street, his body a charred wreck but still moving.

The Archbishop's regeneration was already working, new flesh growing over the burns. He'd survive this. There was no stopping him.

"Outside!" Hadir burst through the collapsing doorway, his hands still weaving wind magic. "Get clear!"

Subaru scrambled out of the burning inn, Polaris blazing anxiously near his head. The entire building was an inferno now, flames reaching toward the night sky. The heat was intense even from twenty feet away.

Lye stood in the middle of the street, his body smoking, his grin returning despite the damage. "Not bad! Not bad at all! You've actually hurt us! Do you know how rare that is? How delicious you've become?"

The Archbishop's body rippled. "Solar Eclipse" yelled out Lye and he was transforming. Taking on the appearance of that massive scarred warrior from before, his already monstrous strength multiplying.

"Now we'll show you what accumulated power really means!"

Subaru's mind raced. The inn was destroyed, the flames spreading to nearby buildings. People were screaming, running. If this fight continued, the entire town would burn.

Need to end it. Here. Now. No matter what it costs.

He reached for Invisible Providence again, feeling that void inside him, that hungry darkness. Eight hands had barely been enough to hold Lye. He needed more, more, more!!!

"Hadir!" Subaru's voice cut through the chaos. "Can you create another vacuum? A bigger one?"

The innkeeper's eyes widened with understanding. "Aye, but it'll drain everything I have left! And the explosion will-"

"Do it! I'll hold him!"

Lye charged, his transformed body moving with impossible speed for something so large. His fist came for Subaru's head-

Nine hands of Invisible Providence erupted from Subaru's will.

The pain was immediate and total. It felt like his skull was splitting open, his consciousness fragmenting across nine separate points of control. Blood exploded from Subaru's nose, running down his face in thick streams. His body began to shake violently.

But the hands held. They caught Lye's fist, wrapped around his arms, his legs, his massive torso. The Archbishop's eyes widened in shock as he found himself completely immobilised.

"Impossible! You-"

A tenth hand.

Subaru screamed. The void inside him opened wider, that hungry darkness rushing up to meet his reaching consciousness. He could feel it pulling at something fundamental, something that made him him, trying to devour it in exchange for power.

More. Need more.

Eleventh hand.

Subaru's vision went red. He was laughing, when had he started laughing? The sound was wrong, broken. His body convulsed, but the hands held Lye in an iron grip.

The Archbishop struggled with all his enhanced strength, but he couldn't move. Couldn't teleport. Couldn't even breathe properly with the pressure on his chest.

"What are you?!" Lye's voice held something Subaru had never heard from him before - actual fear. 

The twelfth hand manifested.

Something inside Subaru broke.

The void rushed in, flooding through the crack in his psyche. He could feel it drinking, siphoning, pulling at the very essence of his existence. His vision fractured into twelve separate viewpoints, his consciousness spread so thin he could barely remember his own name.

But the power, oh, the power-

Twelve hands of Invisible Providence held Lye Batenkaitos in a grip that could shatter steel. The Archbishop's transformations, his stolen skills, his accumulated centuries of experience, none of it mattered. He was caught, held, completely and utterly helpless.

Subaru's body shook like a leaf in a hurricane. Tears of blood streamed down his face, blood vessels cracked in his body. He didn't know if he was crying from pain or from the horrible euphoria of the power coursing through him. His laughter had become sobbing, or maybe his sobbing had become laughter, he couldn't tell the difference anymore.

I'm losing myself. I'm becoming like Petelgeuse. Like Sloth. The Authority is eating me.

But he held on. Held Lye. Held him in the street while Hadir's wind magic began to gather. The innkeeper's voice was strained to breaking. The wind started pulling away from Lye, creating a sphere of vacuum around the trapped Archbishop.

The fires from the burning inn were spreading, consuming nearby buildings. The flames were everywhere, hungry and eager. And in the center of it all, Lye Batenkaitos hung suspended by invisible hands, unable to move, unable to escape.

"You're mad!" Lye shouted, his voice muffled by the thinning air. "You're destroying yourself for this!"

"Shut up!" Subaru's voice was barely human, distorted by the laughter-sobs that kept forcing their way out. "Just shut up and BURN!"

The vacuum was complete. A perfect sphere of airless space surrounding Lye, centered in the middle of the burning street. The fires around them bent inward, drawn toward the vacuum, their flames flickering and dying at its edge. Fire rushed at Lye instantly. Screams of agony unlike anything before rang out through Mirula.

Subaru's whole body was shaking now. His soul felt like it was being siphoned away, pulled into that void inside him. The twelve hands of Invisible Providence wavered, his concentration fracturing -

"Boy!" Hadir's voice cut through the madness. "Boy, snap out of it! You're going too far! SNAP OUT OF IT!"

The words hit Subaru like a physical blow and his concentration broke.

Lye felt it immediately. The Archbishop's eyes blazed with desperate fury as one of the twelve hands weakened. He poured everything into Carnivorous Beast, his enhanced muscles bulging obscenely.

All hands broke.

"NOW!" Lye roared, activating Leaper with fury and fear combined in one. Lye materialised directly in front of Subaru, his blade already swinging for the killing blow. The Archbishop's face was a mask of burnt flesh and manic determination, his grin somehow still present despite the damage.

"YOU'RE MINE!"

Subaru's mind was fracturing. The void was still pulling, still drinking. He tried to manifest more hands, but his control was gone. The blade was coming and he couldn't move, couldn't think, couldn't -

Terror. Pure, absolute terror as that blade came for his throat.

In that moment of primal panic, Subaru's consciousness connected with Polaris in a way it never had before. The fire spirit had been hovering nearby, burning with desperate anxiety for her contractor. Now, as Subaru's mind touched hers in raw desperation, she felt his intent.

Burn him. Burn him.

"AL GOA!" Subaru screamed with desperation his very life force channelled through the fire spirit.

Polaris responded instantly.

The tiny spirit pulled on every bit of mana around her, drawing from the flames around them, from the burning buildings, from the very air itself. Fire magic on a scale that should have been impossible, that was impossible, for a minor spirit like Polaris.

A hemisphere of pure flame erupted outward from Subaru's position, consuming everything within fifty feet. The heat was so intense that sand in the street fused into glass. The remaining buildings were not even caught on fire, they did not have time, instead they vaporised, their wooden structures flash-burning to ash in an instant.

Lye Batenkaitos, standing directly in front of Subaru, was at the epicentre.

The Archbishop's scream lasted less than a second before his lungs were incinerated. His enhanced body, reinforced by Carnivorous Beast, held together for perhaps two seconds more, long enough for his eyes to go wide with shock and terror.

Then there was nothing but flames.

The shock wave hit Subaru like a physical wall. Even though the fire originated from him, the force of the explosion threw him backward through the air. He was airborne, tumbling, the world spinning-

Pain exploded through his back as he hit something hard. A wall, maybe, or rubble from a collapsed building. The impact drove the air from his lungs.

Subaru's vision was darkening at the edges. Through the fading light, he could see the inferno he'd created-a crater of molten glass and ash where Lye had been standing. The fires were still raging, spreading through Mirula like a living thing.

Did I... did I kill him? Is he...?

His body wouldn't respond. Couldn't respond. The strain of twelve hands of Invisible Providence had pushed him beyond his limits. He could feel his consciousness slipping, darkness rushing up to claim him.

The last thing Subaru saw before his vision went black was Polaris, her flames dimmed but still burning, hovering above him with desperate concern.

Then nothing.

Chapter Text

Subaru opened his eyes to darkness. An absolute void that stretched endlessly in every direction, swallowing light, sound, and sense. The ground beneath his feet—if it could even be called ground—felt solid yet intangible, like walking on the frozen lake that was about to break but refused to.

Shadow Garden.

The realization hit him immediately. He'd been here before, though the memories were fragmented, dreamlike. This was the place between places, the void where death deposited him before Return by Death rewound time. Usually he passed through so quickly he barely registered it, his consciousness yanked back to his checkpoint before he could process where he was and then he would wake up and memory of it would be gone fully.

But now he was here. Fully present. Fully aware. Why?

Subaru's hands came up instinctively, checking himself. He did not die from the fire did he? His clothes were intact, the travelling outfit he'd been wearing in Mirula. No blood. No burns. No injuries from where the explosion had thrown him against that wall. His body felt fine, perfectly healthy, as if the fight with Lye Batenkaitos had never happened.

But it had happened. He remembered it with crystalline clarity - the pain of manifesting twelve hands of Invisible Providence, the sensation of his psyche fragmenting across multiple points of control, the void inside him drinking, siphoning, pulling at his soul itself.

And Polaris. That final desperate spell, the explosion of fire that had consumed everything.

Did I kill him? Did I actually kill that bastard? - The question hung in the void, unanswered. Subaru took a tentative step forward, then another. His footfalls made no sound against the not-ground. The darkness was so complete it was disorienting, he couldn't tell if he was walking straight or in circles.

"Hello?" His voice came out small, swallowed almost immediately by the oppressive silence. "Is anyone-"

A sound cut through the void.

Sobbing.

Subaru froze, his heart suddenly hammering against his ribs. The sound was distant yet intimate, as if it was coming from both away from him and right beside his ear. It was raw, broken, the kind of crying that came from a soul in absolute agony.

He knew that voice. He knew it, even though he'd only heard it a handful of times. Even though every instinct in his body was screaming at him to run, to not look, to close his eyes and wish himself away from this place.

The sobbing continued, growing neither louder nor softer, constant terrifying presence in the void. Subaru's legs moved of their own accord, carrying him toward the sound even as his mind rebelled against the action.

Don't. Don't look. You know what this is. You know who this is.

But he couldn't stop, his feet carried him forward through the darkness, each step bringing him closer to the source. And then he saw her.

She was covered in shadows, her form both solid and ethereal at once. Silver hair that cascaded down her back in waves, so long it pooled on the ground around her. A black dress with orange ornaments that seemed to be woven from the void itself, its edges indistinct, bleeding into the darkness. And her face; Subaru's breath caught in his throat. She was beautiful. Terrifyingly beautiful.

Her features were delicate, almost fragile, with high cheekbones and full lips currently twisted in anguish. But it was her eyes that froze Subaru in place. Violet eyes that shimmered with tears, that held depths of emotion no human expression should be able to contain. Eyes that were simultaneously ancient and childlike, knowing and innocent, filled with love and madness in equal measure.

Satella, The Witch of Envy.

She curled on herself, her knees drew up to her chest, her arms wrapped around them as if trying to hold herself together. Her whole body shook with the force of her sobs, silver hair fell forward to curtain her face. The sound of her crying was heartbreaking, each sob tearing through the silence like a physical wound.

Subaru wanted to run. Every survival instinct he possessed was screaming at him to flee, to get away from the being that had cursed him with Return by Death, that represented everything terrible and inexplicable about his existence in this world.

But he couldn't move. Because beneath the terror, beneath the rational fear, there was something else, something he'd felt before, during Echidna's tea party when he'd confronted Satella for the first time. An emotion that made no sense, that shouldn't exist, that he desperately wanted to deny.

Love. Love that transcended reason, that pulled at the very core of his being. Looking at Satella's broken form, watching her sob in this void of absolute darkness, Subaru felt his heart constrict with an ache that was both agony and ecstasy.

He didn't understand it. Didn't want to understand it. But it was there, undeniable and overwhelming.

"S-Satella?" His voice came out as barely a whisper.

The sobbing stopped instantly.

Satella's head snapped up, her violet eyes going wide with shock. Her expression was one of complete, utter disbelief, as if she couldn't process what she'd just heard and what she was seeing. Tears still streamed down her pale cheeks, her lips parted in wordless surprise.

For a long moment, they simply stared at each other across the void. Then Satella's face crumpled.

"Subaru," she breathed, and the way she said his name, with such desperate longing, such overwhelming emotion, made something inside Subaru's chest twist painfully.

Fresh tears spilled from her eyes, not the broken sobs from before, instead these were tears of relief, of joy, of disbelief so profound it manifested as physical pain. Her hands came up to cover her mouth, her whole body trembling.

"You... you can see me? You can hear me? I'm not... this isn't..."

Her words dissolved into incoherent sobbing again, but this time there was something almost euphoric mixed with the anguish. She was breaking down, falling apart right in front of him, and Subaru had no idea what to do.

The rational part of his brain was still screaming. This is the monster that cursed you. Run. RUN.

But he couldn't. Because looking at her now, watching her cry with such raw, vulnerable emotion, all he could see was someone in pain and his selfless nature as much as he tried to deny it would never allow him to do so.

The feeling of love intensified, flooding through him with such force that Subaru actually gasped. It was suffocating, overwhelming, a tide of emotion that threatened to drown him. His hands started shaking, his vision blurring at the edges.

No. No, I can't feel this. I can't. This is wrong. This is insane.

He needed to focus on something else, something he could grasp and hold onto while this inexplicable emotion tried to tear him apart from the inside.

Anger. Yes, anger. He had every right to be angry. So many reasons to be furious.

"Why?" The word came out harsh, accusatory. Subaru latched onto the anger desperately, using it as a shield against the love threatening to consume him. Subaru could have asked many question, he could have demanded answers: Why am I here, why did you bring me to this world, why do you keep insisting that you love me, why does your love hurt? But the feeling of betrayal, Emilia's fury, Beatrice's Minya crystallising his body was still fresh, he could remember and feel it vividly, recall every loop, every moment of suffering and agony.

The question was out of his mouth before he even fully processed it. "Why didn't you set the checkpoint before the Archbishop of Gluttony ate my name?"

Satella flinched as if he'd struck her. Her hands dropped from her mouth to clutch at her dress, fingers digging into the dark fabric. Fresh tears spilled down her cheeks.

"Do you have any idea what that was like?" Subaru's voice was rising now echoing through the void, the anger building, feeding on itself. "Beatrice couldn't remember me. Emilia couldn't remember me. I had to watch them look at me like I was an enemy, like everything we'd been through together meant nothing. They killed me, butchered me on the spots in some loops and I could not even tell them, I could not explain, they would not believe me no matter how much I tried." Subaru was shaking in anger and pain, his eyes were stained with tears too, remembering every moment of what felt like physical ache in his heart the moment Beatrice would condemn him as Archbishop of Pride.

Each word felt like a knife in his own chest, but Subaru kept going. The anger was safer than the love. Easier to understand. More justifiable.

"I died fifteen times trying to beat Lye. Fifteen times! Do you understand? I felt steel pierce my lungs, my heart, my spine. I drowned in my own blood. I had my head cut off. And every time I came back, I had to do it all over again, completely alone because I can't tell anyone, can't explain, can't even— and the rabbit.", Subaru choked on his own words.

"I'm sorry."

The words were barely audible, choked out between sobs. Satella had curled in on herself again, her whole body shaking violently. Her silver hair fell forward, hiding her face, but Subaru could hear the absolute anguish in her voice.

"I'm sorry, I'm sorry, I'm so sorry." The words became a mantra, repeated over and over as she sobbed. "I tried. I tried to control her, I swear I tried. I've been trying so hard, but it's getting harder. She's getting stronger. More aware. I can't... I can't always..."

She looked up at him then, and the expression on her face made Subaru's anger falter. There was such desperation there, such profound helplessness and even hints of fear. Her violet eyes were swimming with tears, pleading with him to understand something he didn't have the context to grasp.

"Who?" Subaru asked, his anger momentarily forgotten in confusion. "Who's getting stronger? What are you talking about?"

Satella's hands clutched at her head, fingers tangling in her silver hair. She was shaking so hard it looked painful, her breath coming in short, sharp gasps.

"She's... we're... I'm..."

She couldn't seem to finish the sentence. Her whole body convulsed with another sob, and when she spoke again, her words came out in a desperate rush, as if she had to get them out before she lost the ability to speak at all.

"She's not me. I mean, she is me, but she's not. We're the same but different. She's the jealousy, the madness, she's everything that went wrong, everything that broke when I... when I..."

Satella's voice cracked, and she had to pause to draw in a shuddering breath.

"She wants you for herself. Forever. She doesn't want to share you with anyone, doesn't want you to love anyone else, doesn't want you to even look at anyone else. And to do that, she wants to trap you in a loop where you die over and over and over again."

The words hung in the void, their implications slowly sinking into Subaru's consciousness.

"She thinks..." Satella was crying so hard she could barely speak. "She thinks if she sets your checkpoint at a death, if you're trapped dying endlessly, you'll call out for help. You'll break the taboo completely. You'll scream my name, beg me to save you. And then... and then she can use that. She can use your desperation as a way to break free from the seal. Because you summoned her. Because you broke the taboo."

Subaru on instinct remembered that one terrifying loop at the Sanctuary. Horror crawled up his spine, cold and viscous. The implications of what Satella was saying were staggering. A checkpoint set at a death with no way forward, no way to survive, an endless loop of dying and resetting and dying again. And in that hell, he would eventually break. Would call out to Satella, would beg her for salvation. He knew this, he understood this. 

And that would free the Witch of Envy.

"But I don't want that!" Satella's voice rose to a wail. "I don't want that! I'm trying to hold her back, trying to keep her contained, but she's getting more self-aware. She's learning to think, to plan. It used to be just instinct, just raw jealous hunger, b-but now.."

She looked up at Subaru again, and the desperation in her eyes was overwhelming.

"I'm trying to protect you. I'm trying to set the checkpoints in places where you can survive, where you have a chance. But she fights me every time. We're... we're at war inside this body, inside this existence, and I'm losing, Subaru. I'm losing more ground every day, and I don't know how much longer I can hold her back."

Fresh sobs wracked her body, and she curled back into herself, forehead nearly touching her knees.

"I'm so sorry. I'm so, so sorry. For the curse, for the pain, for everything. If I could take it back, if I could undo what I did to you, I would. But I can't. And the worst part is that even though I hate what she's doing to you, even though I know it's wrong, there's a part of me, t-that wants to keep you close forever, no matter what it costs you."

She was breaking down completely now, her words becoming increasingly incoherent between the sobs.

"I'm a monster. I'm a broken, twisted thing that shouldn't exist. And you shouldn't be here. You shouldn't be talking to me. You should hate me, should want me dead, should—"

Subaru took a step forward. Then another. The love he'd been trying so desperately to suppress, to deny, to wall away behind anger, surged up with renewed force. But this time he didn't fight it. This time he let it flow through him, overwhelming and inexplicable and utterly undeniable.

He didn't understand it. Probably never would. But looking at Satella now, broken, desperate, fighting a losing battle against the madness inside her while trying to protect him, he couldn't ignore it anymore.

She was suffering. Had been suffering for four hundred years, trapped with a jealous monster wearing her face, unable to die, unable to escape, forced to watch the Witch of Envy destroy everything while she remained powerless to stop it.

And she was trying. Despite everything, despite the madness threatening to consume her, she was trying to protect him.

Subaru dropped to his knees in front of her. The movement was instinctive, driven by that overwhelming surge of emotion. His hands came up, and without really thinking about what he was doing, he pulled Satella into his arms.

"It's been rough, hasn't it?"

The words left Subaru's mouth before he'd consciously decided to speak them. They were soft, gentle, carrying none of the anger from before. And the moment he said them, something inside him seemed to settle.

He'd heard those words before. Emilia had said them to him, back at the Roswaal mansion, when he'd broken down completely. When he'd been drowning in his own failures and trauma, unable to see a way forward. She'd held him then, pulled him close, and said those simple words that had somehow meant everything.

Satella stiffened immediately, her whole body going rigid with shock. For a moment, she didn't move, didn't breathe, as if she couldn't process what was happening.

Then she melted into him.

A sound somewhere between a sob and a gasp escaped her lips, and her arms wrapped around him with desperate intensity. Her face pressed against his shoulder, her whole body trembling as she clung to him like he was the only solid thing in her void of darkness.

"Subaru," she breathed his name like a prayer, like an invocation, like the most precious word in any language.

Subaru held her tighter. He didn't know why. Didn't know what he was doing or if this was a terrible mistake or if he was making everything worse. All he knew was that holding Satella felt right in a way that transcended logic.

The void around them seemed to pulse, the darkness responding to their proximity. But Subaru barely noticed. He was acutely aware of every point of contact, her cheek against his shoulder, her arms around his back, her silver hair soft against his neck. She was both solid and ephemeral, real and dreamlike.

"You shouldn't," Satella whispered against his shoulder, her voice thick with tears. "You shouldn't touch me. Shouldn't hold me. I'm dangerous. I'm—"

"Shut up," Subaru said, but there was no heat in it. His voice was soft, almost gentle. "Just... shut up for a minute."

He felt her breath hitch, felt the tremor that ran through her body. Her arms tightened around him fractionally, as if she was afraid he'd disappear if she didn't hold on tight enough.

They stayed like that for what felt like an eternity. Time had no meaning in the Shadow Garden, seconds could be hours, or hours could be seconds. But Subaru didn't care. In this moment, holding Satella while she cried into his shoulder, he felt no rush to leave, no desperation, no fear. He was content and happy just to exist in that moment. He was where he was supposed to be. Doing what he was supposed to be doing. It made no sense. But it was true.

"I don't understand this," Subaru admitted quietly. "I should be terrified of you. Should be furious with you. And part of me is. But..."

He couldn't finish the sentence. How could he explain something he didn't understand himself? How could he put into words this inexplicable love that defied all logic and reason?

Satella pulled back slightly, just enough to look up at his face. Her violet eyes were red-rimmed from crying, her cheeks streaked with tears. But there was something else in her expression now, something beyond the anguish and desperation.

Hope.

"You don't hate me?" Her voice was so small, so vulnerable, it made Subaru's heart ache.

"I..." Subaru hesitated. "I don't know what I feel. It's complicated. Everything about this is complicated. But no. I don't hate you."

Fresh tears spilled from Satella's eyes, but these were different. Relief, perhaps. Or gratitude.

"Thank you," she whispered. "Thank you for not hating me. Thank you for... for this."

She pressed her face back against his shoulder, her arms tightening around him again. Subaru let his chin rest on top of her head, his own arms secure around her back.

The darkness of the Shadow Garden seemed less oppressive now. Or maybe Subaru was just getting used to it. Either way, the void didn't feel as threatening with Satella in his arms.

"How long have you been fighting her?" Subaru asked quietly. "The Witch of Envy. How long have you been at war with yourself?"

"Since the seal," Satella whispered. "Four hundred years. She's always been there, always fighting to get out. But it's been getting worse. Especially since you..."

Since you were brought to this world. Subaru did not Satella to finish that sentence to get the meaning. "Because of me?"

"Because she wants you." Satella's voice was tinged with sadness. "More than anything. More than breaking the seal, more than destroying the world, more than anything else. She wants you with a desperation that borders on madness. Actually, it is madness. Pure, absolute, jealous madness."

She was quiet for a moment, then added in an even smaller voice, "And so do I. B-but, I want you to be happy. I want you to be free. I want you to live a long, fulfilling life with people who love you."

Her arms tightened around him almost painfully.

"But I also want to be selfish. Want to keep you here, want to hold you forever, want to never let you go. I can't separate myself from her completely. We're too intertwined, too fundamentally the same entity."

Subaru didn't know what to say to that. So he just held her, letting his presence speak for him.

They stayed like that, wrapped in each other's arms in the void. Gradually, Satella's trembling began to subside. Her breathing evened out, though she occasionally hiccupped from crying so hard. But she didn't let go, and neither did Subaru.

"What do I do?" The question came out of nowhere, more desperate than he'd intended. "How do I stop her? How do I help you win this fight?"

Satella pulled back again to look at him. Her expression was heartbreaking in its sadness.

"I don't know," she admitted. "I don't think you can stop her. Not directly. She's part of me, woven into my very existence. The only way to stop her would be to kill me completely."

"One day, you must come to kill me" - Subaru remembered those words with clarity.

Subaru leaned into her touch despite himself. The gesture felt natural, comfortable, as if he'd done it a thousand times before.

"Then I'll just have to keep going," he said. "Keep fighting. Keep dying if I have to. I've made it this far, haven't I? Heh, I even managed to kill an archbishop by myself. It only took me fifteen deaths to beat Lye. I can handle whatever comes next."

"But you shouldn't have to." Satella's voice cracked. "You shouldn't have to suffer like this. It's not fair. None of this is fair."

"Fair?" Subaru couldn't help the bitter laugh that escaped him. "Nothing about my life has been fair since I arrived in this world. And I'm not going to stop just because things are hard."

He brought his own hand up to cover hers where it rested against his cheek.

"Besides," he added, his voice softening, "I'm not completely alone in this. Am I?"

Satella's eyes widened, fresh tears threatening to spill over. "You... you mean..."

"You're fighting for me too," Subaru said. "Aren't you? Fighting to keep the checkpoints safe, fighting to give me a chance to survive. You're suffering just as much as I am, maybe more. So no, I'm not alone." 

"I... I want to thank you, the ability that I have, it's horrible, painful, disgusting even, but I would have been dead so many times over without it. I defeated fate, altered history, kept my friends safe, found a way to the future I desired thanks to you".

The tears spilled over, tracking down Satella's cheeks. But she was smiling now, a small, fragile expression that transformed her features from tragic to beautiful.

Subaru smiled back, though it felt shaky.

They fell into silence again, but it was more comfortable now. Less desperate. Satella had stopped crying, though her eyes were still wet. She seemed content to just stay in Subaru's arms, her head resting against his shoulder, her body pressed close to his.

Subaru found himself stroking her hair absently, running his fingers through the silver strands. They were impossibly soft. Satella made a small sound—almost a purr—and pressed closer.

"I've dreamed of this for so long, being close to you, but I never thought it would actually happen. Thought you'd hate me too much to even look at me."

"I never hated you," Subaru admitted. "After the tea party, after realizing you were the one behind Return by Death. I was furious. Terrified. But..."

He trailed off, trying to find the words.

"But?" Satella prompted gently.

"But I also felt this," Subaru said, gesturing vaguely at the space between them. "And I couldn't hate you completely when this odd feeling was there, pulling at me, making me feel things I didn't understand."

"The soul remembers," Satella said softly.

Subaru looked at her in confusion, "I don't understand."

"You don't need to." Satella looked up at him, her violet eyes warm despite the tears.

Subaru wanted to argue, wanted to demand more concrete answers. But looking into Satella's eyes, seeing the pain and regret in her eyes his mouth clamped shut. "Will you be okay?" he asked instead. "When I leave here, when I go back. Will you be able to hold her off?"

Satella's expression turned uncertain. "I'll try. I'll fight with everything I have. But Subaru, you need to understand, the more, the more you d...die" chocked out Satella - "more difficult it will be for me to set a good checkpoint for you. So please, take care of yourself, value your life, live Subaru." The words were said in such intensity and warmth it made Subaru's heart painfully ache. "And there may come a time when I can't control her anymore. When she takes over completely. If that happens..."

"If that happens, I'll deal with it," Subaru said firmly. "Whatever comes, I'll face it. I've faced everything else this world has thrown at me. I can face that too."

"You're so brave," Satella whispered, wonder in her voice. "So incredibly brave. Even when you're terrified, you keep moving forward. That's what I love about you most."

The word 'love' hung between them, heavy with implication. Subaru knew he should probably address it, should maybe pull away, should create some distance between himself and this being who had cursed him with immortality and suffering.

But he didn't want to.

Instead, he pulled Satella closer, holding her tighter. She came willingly, pressing herself against him as if trying to merge their very beings.

"How much time do we have?" Subaru asked quietly.

"Not much," Satella admitted. "The Shadow Garden is a liminal space, similar construct to Echidna's Castle of Dreams. You can't stay here indefinitely. Soon you'll wake up in Mirula. And then..."

"And then I face whatever comes next," Subaru finished.

Satella's fingers traced idle patterns on Subaru's back, her touch gentle, almost reverent. Subaru let his eyes close, focusing on the sensation, on the warmth of her body against his, on the steady rhythm of her breathing.

"I wish we could stay like this," Satella whispered. "Forever. Just you and me, away from the world, away from the suffering". "Promise me something," she said.

"What?"

"Promise me you'll keep fighting. No matter what happens, no matter how dark things get, promise me you won't give up. Don't let her win. Don't let me—the Witch of Envy—trap you in despair."

Subaru met her gaze steadily. "I promise. On my life, on my death, on every reset I've endured and will endure, I promise I'll keep fighting."

Satella's smile was radiant, transforming her features into something beyond beautiful. She leaned forward, pressing her forehead against his.

They stayed like that, foreheads touching, breathing in synchronisation. The darkness around them began to shift, becoming less solid, more ephemeral.

"It's time," Satella said, sadness creeping back into her voice. "You're waking up."

"Will I see you again?" Subaru asked. "Like this, I mean. Aware in the Shadow Garden."

"I am not sure Subaru, but please don't seek me out. Don't try to force it".

"Okay," Subaru agreed.

"Oh and Subaru, when things get tough for you, when you feel like you cannot go on any longer, the moment you feel like you have given up, call for her, call for Shaula and she will come to you".

Subaru could not help but frown in confusion. He wanted to ask what she meant, but the void was definitely fading now. Subaru could feel consciousness pulling at him, dragging him back toward the waking world. But he didn't want to leave. Not yet.

"Satella," he said urgently. "I—"

She pressed a finger to his lips, silencing him.

"Don't," she whispered. "Don't say anything you might regret. Don't make promises we both know are impossible to keep".

Subaru nodded, unable to speak past the lump in his throat.

Satella's form was becoming translucent now, fading into the darkness. But she was smiling, genuinely smiling, and the expression was worth more than any words.

"I love you," she said, her voice already distant. "I've always loved you. I will always love you. Even when I can't show it, even when she takes control, know that somewhere deep inside, I'm still here, still loving you."

"I—" Subaru started, but the words died as the void swallowed him completely.

The last thing he saw was Satella's violet eyes, warm and sad and full of desperate hope.

Then darkness gave way to light, and Subaru opened his eyes to find himself lying on packed dirt. He was back in Mirula.

Subaru sat up slowly, his hand coming up to touch his chest where she'd pressed against him. He could still feel the phantom sensation of her embrace, still smell the faint scent of her hair.

Polaris materialized beside him, her flames flickering with concern. Subaru reached out absently to stroke her, his mind still half in the Shadow Garden.

"I made it," he whispered to no one. "I killed Lye. I actually killed him."

But the victory felt hollow. He was surrounded in sick miasma, the same as he was back at burning Roswaal's mansion. The town of Mirula, if it could be called that anymore was burning. The sky was fully covered in dust, ash and grey smoke. Fire and heat was licking at him at every side, daring him to come closer, to join the wailing and cries of the residents of the town burning and choking alive in crimson frenzy.

Subaru barely managed to get on his feet. Every part of his body was aching and screaming at me. His legs were shaking, his breathing was hollow, every inhale burnt and choked his lungs. Confusion and disorientation alongside pounding headache would not leave him.

Hadir, I need to check on Hadir, thought Subaru desperately. He staggered in pain to the inn and almost vomited on the spot. There lay a burnt corpse, hugging itself like a small child, face barely recognisable, eye sockets hollow and face twisted in agony. Hadir was burnt and dead all because of him. It was getting more and more difficult to breathe. He needed to run, he needed to escape, he did not want to stay here one more moment. 

Subaru rushed in the burning inn miasma deflecting any touch of fire from his body. Polaris was following him. She could feel her contractor's pain, anger and sadness. He barely made it to the second floor, fire thankfully had not touched and damaged his room yet. Immediately Subaru blasted the door and grabbed his supplies from the chest. It wasn't much, even with his generous spending Kareem did not provide him more than a week worth of supply. Still it was better than nothing.

Subaru pocketed everything in a rush and ran through the smouldering streets of Mirula. He did not want to look, he did not want to see the buildings choking in flames around him, he did not want to hear the screams and pleadings of children burning alive in their own homes. He ran and ran, ignoring the pain as much as he could.

Beast was at the stable. The Ground Dragon was clearly shaken and afraid. Subaru did not have time to console him. He immediately freed the dragon and jumped on its back. Instinctively understanding the desire of his rider, the dragon rushed through the hellish nightmare that Mirula had become and in a moment raven haired boy disappeared in the yellowish landscape of Augria Sand Dunes leaving behind churned corpses and tragedy that would be left in major footnotes of Lugnica's history.

Chapter Text

The journey from Roswaal's manor to Mirula had taken exactly two weeks and four days. They had travelled in haste, trying to arrive to Mirula as quickly as possible. The rumors and horror stories about complete destruction of the town had spread like wildfire, just like the wildfire in Mirula itself.

Emilia stood at the front of their dragon carriage in concern, watching the landscape gradually transform from the lush greenery of Lugnica's heartland to the increasingly arid terrain that marked the approach to the Augria Sand Dunes. The transition had been gradual but very noticeable, lush forests giving way to sparse grasslands, then to scrubland dotted with hardy desert plants, and finally to the yellow-brown expanse of sand that stretched endlessly toward the horizon.

Their expedition party traveled in two reinforced carriages, each pulled by a team of ground dragons specially bred for endurance in harsh climates. The lead carriage carried Emilia, Beatrice, Ram, and the still-sleeping Rem, who lay on a specially prepared bed that Frederica had insisted on installing. The second carriage held Julius, Reinhard, and Anastasia, along with the bulk of their supplies and equipment.

The first week had been almost pleasant, if one could use such a word for a journey with such a desperate and urgent purpose. They'd made good time along the well-maintained roads, stopping at established waypoints where Roswaal's considerable influence had ensured they received the best accommodations and freshest supplies. Emilia had found herself falling into a routine during those early days, studying maps with Julius each morning, practicing her magic with Beatrice in the afternoons, and spending quiet evenings sitting beside Ram and Rem.

That strange emptiness she'd felt back at the manor had persisted throughout the journey, a constant companion that never quite left her alone. Sometimes, when she looked at the empty seat across from her in the carriage, she could have sworn there should be someone sitting there. When they gathered around the evening campfire to discuss the next day's plans, she kept expecting to hear another voice chiming in with suggestions or terrible jokes that somehow made everyone laugh despite themselves.

But there was never anyone there. And Emilia was getting tired of this hollow feeling in her chest that would not go away.

The second week had been harder. The roads had deteriorated as they traveled further from civilization, becoming little more than packed dirt trails that wound through increasingly desolate terrain. The temperature had risen steadily, transforming from comfortable warmth to oppressive heat that seemed to suck the moisture from the air itself. They'd been forced to adjust their schedule, traveling primarily during the early morning and late evening hours to avoid the worst of the midday sun.

It was during the second week that they'd begun encountering other travelers fleeing in the opposite direction. Small groups of merchants, families with whatever possessions they could carry, even a few minor nobles who'd abandoned their holdings in the border regions. All of them wore the same expression: haunted, desperate, terrified of something they'd either witnessed or heard about.

Reinhard had stopped several of these groups to question them, his authoritative and also calming presence as the Sword Saint making it impossible for them to refuse. The stories they told were often contradictory, but certain details remained consistent across multiple accounts. Mirula had burned. The destruction had been sudden and catastrophic. There had been an explosion, then fire, then screaming. Those who'd managed to escape spoke of a hellscape of flame and ash, of neighbors trapped in burning buildings, of the town's wells boiling in the intense heat.

And almost all of them mentioned seeing a raven-haired boy fleeing the scene.

The descriptions were frustratingly vague. Young, they said. 17-18 years old. Dark hair, plain clothes, nothing particularly distinctive about him except that he'd been seen running from the burning town astride a ground dragon, heading deeper into the Augria Sand Dunes rather than back toward civilization.

One merchant in particular had been adamant about what he'd seen. The man had been on the outskirts of Mirula when the explosion occurred, preparing his caravan for departure the next morning. He'd described a massive fireball erupting from somewhere near the center of the settlement, followed immediately by a wave of fire that spread outward with unnatural speed. Buildings had ignited instantaneously, he claimed, as if the very air itself had become combustible.

"It wasn't normal fire," the merchant had insisted, his hands shaking as he clutched his reins. "Normal fire spreads, takes time, you can see it coming. This was... it was like the whole town just exploded into flames all at once. People didn't even have time to scream before they were burning."

Another survivor, a woman who'd been at the town's edge drawing water from one of the auxiliary wells, had spoken of the heat. "It was like standing next to a forge," she'd said, her eyes distant and haunted. "But a thousand times worse. The air itself hurt to breathe. I saw people running from their homes, their clothes already on fire. They'd take maybe three or four steps before they just... collapsed. The heat killed them before the flames even touched them."

Emilia had listened to these accounts with growing horror, trying to imagine what kind of power could cause such devastation. The Sin Archbishops they'd fought in Priestella had been terrifying, each wielding authorities that defied natural law. But even Capella's transformations or Regulus's invulnerability hadn't produced this kind of raw, overwhelming destruction.

Now, as they crested the final rise before Mirula came into view, Emilia found herself hoping against hope that the reports had been exaggerated. That perhaps the settlement had suffered damage but could be salvaged. That there might still be survivors who needed their help.

The sight that greeted them destroyed that hope instantly and completely.

"How..," Anastasia whispered, her usual composed demeanor cracking as she took in the devastation spread out before them.

Mirula, or what remained of it, lay in a shallow depression ahead of them. Calling it a town had always been generous. It was a frontier outpost, a last desperate handhold of civilization before the true wasteland of the Augria Sand Dunes began. Perhaps forty or fifty buildings at most, clustered around a central well, with a low stone wall that was more symbolic than defensive.

Now even that was gone.

Nothing remained standing. Not one structure. The low wall had been blasted apart, stones scattered across the sand like a child's abandoned toys. Beyond it, the buildings had been reduced to ash and blackened stone foundations. Wooden structures had burned completely, leaving only twisted metal fittings and charred support beams. Even the few stone buildings such as the inn, the trading post, what might have been a small shrine, had cracked and collapsed under the intense heat.

Smoke still rose from scattered points throughout the ruins, thin gray tendrils that twisted lazily in the hot air. The afternoon sun beat down mercilessly, and the heat radiating from the destroyed settlement was palpable even from a distance, distorting the air and making the ruins shimmer and waver like a mirage.

But what truly made the scene nightmarish was the silence. There was no movement, no sound, no birds, no insects, not even the whisper of wind through ruins. It was oppresive quiet of absolute desolation, broken only by the occasional crackle of dying embers.

The smell of acrid smoke and something organic reached them even from this distance. How was it possible that small embers were still crackling even after weeks the town had been destroyed? And this disgusting smell, too. She didn't want to think about what was creating that smell.

"Emilia-sama, we should stop the carriages," Reinhard said quietly, his voice carrying an edge that made everyone immediately comply. The ground dragons pulling their vehicles seemed more than happy to halt, their usual steady temperament giving way to nervous shifting and low growls of distress.

The expedition members disembarked slowly. Nobody spoke. They stood there, staring at the devastation, trying to process what they were seeing.

Emilia felt her legs trembling beneath her. She'd seen destruction before - the damage done to Priestella during the Archbishop attacks. But this was different. Those had been battles, conflicts where people fought back, where there was at least the dignity of resistance. This was annihilation. Complete, total erasure of a place that had existed for who knows how long as humanity's last foothold before the desert.

The maps in Roswaal's study had marked Mirula as a settlement dating back at three hundred years. Generations of people had lived here, carved out an existence in this harsh environment, built something from nothing. All of that history, all those lives, reduced to ash and rubble in what the survivors described as mere hours.

"Beatrice," she managed to say, her voice barely above a whisper. "Can you sense anything? Any survivors?"

"Betty can sense something, in fact," Beatrice interrupted, her small face twisted in an expression of deep discomfort. Her nose wrinkled, and she pressed a hand to her stomach as if fighting nausea. "Miasma, I suppose. Everywhere. So thick Betty can almost taste it, in fact."

She hopped down from the carriage, her small form seeming even more diminutive against the backdrop of devastation. Her eyes, usually bright with confidence or irritation, were wide and troubled as she surveyed the ruins. Emilia noticed that Beatrice's hands were trembling slightly, something she'd rarely seen from the normally unflappable spirit.

"This is wrong, I suppose," she continued, her voice uncharacteristically uncertain. "The concentration of miasma here is dangerously high, in fact. Higher than it should be naturally, even after such destruction, I suppose. It's as if something deliberately polluted this place, in fact".

Beatrice closed her eyes, and Emilia could see the small spirit concentrating, reaching out with her magical senses to probe the area around them. When her eyes opened again, there was something close to fear in them".

"The miasma isn't just residual from the destruction, in fact," Beatrice continued, her voice dropping lower as if afraid of being overheard by whatever had created this devastation. "It has a source, in fact, very powerful and revolting. Betty has never seen anything like this before, in fact".

"How dangerous are we talking?" Julius asked, his knight's training overriding his shock. His hand had moved to rest on the pommel of his sword, though what good a blade would do against corrupted mana was questionable.

Beatrice took a moment to respond, clearly weighing her words carefully. "Long exposure would be harmful to anyone without significant magical resistance, I suppose. It could cause corruption or damage if we stay too long, in fact. The miasma is trying to seep into any living thing it touches, trying to corrupt from within. Betty can maintain protective barriers around all of us, but it will be draining, I suppose. We shouldn't linger here longer than absolutely necessary."

Ram had been standing silently beside the carriage, her expression carefully controlled. But Emilia could see the tension in her shoulders, the way her eyes had narrowed as she studied the ruins. 

"How long do we have?" Ram asked, her voice steady despite the circumstances.

"A day or two at most, in fact," Beatrice replied grimly. "Maybe less if the concentration increases, I suppose. Betty will know if we need to evacuate immediately. But we shouldn't push it, this level of corruption could cause permanent damage to mana gates if we're exposed too long, in fact."

Reinhard had moved forward several paces, his blue eyes scanning the ruins with an intensity that suggested he was using more than just normal vision. The Divine Protections that made him the Sword Saint likely included enhanced perception, and he was clearly using every advantage at his disposal to assess the situation.

After a long moment of silent observation, he spoke, his voice troubled in a way that made Emilia's chest tighten with concern. "The destruction pattern is wrong," he said. "If this had been a natural disaster, even a magical one like a mana overflow of rapid scale, there would be evidence of directional spread. An epicenter with decreasing damage as you move outward. But this..."

He gestured at the ruins, his expression deeply troubled. "Everything was destroyed simultaneously, or so close to simultaneously that the difference is meaningless. It's as if someone drew a circle around Mirula and declared that everything within it would cease to exist. The uniformity of the destruction is... I haven't seen something like this."

Reinhard fell silent for a moment, then added quietly, "The force required to do this in a single moment would be staggering. I could perhaps replicate this level of damage if I focused and gathered all the spirits and mana in the air but it would take time and leave me exhausted. Whatever did this accomplished it in an instant, and apparently with enough power left over to flee the scene immediately after."

The implications of that statement settled over the group like a shroud. If even Reinhard van Astrea, the Sword Saint, the strongest warrior in the kingdom and possibly the world, would struggle to replicate this destruction, then what did that say about whoever or whatever had caused it?

"We need to check for survivors," Julius said firmly, his voice carrying a note of desperation that pulled everyone's attention. "Even if the odds are low, we have a responsibility to search. There might be people who managed to find shelter, who are trapped or injured. We can't just assume everyone died without at least looking."

His voice carried an edge that Emilia understood all too well. Julius had lost so much to Gluttony's authority - his name, his history, the recognition of everyone who should have known him best. The woman he supported as a knight looked at him like a stranger. His fellow knights treated him with professional courtesy but no warmth. Even his contracted spirits were gone, circling him without recognition. She suspected that part of him was clinging to this search as a way to prove his worth, to demonstrate that even without his name, even without recognition, he was still a knight worthy of the title.

"Julius is right," Anastasia agreed quietly, moving to stand beside him. Her hand had moved unconsciously toward Julius, as if to touch his arm in a gesture of comfort or solidarity, but she stopped herself halfway through the motion. Confusion flickered across her face, confusion at the impulse itself, at the sense that this should feel natural when everything about their current dynamic suggested otherwise.

"Even if - " Anastasia paused, gathering herself. "Even if we don't find survivors, we should at least try to understand what happened here. The more we know about this attack, the better prepared we'll be if we encounter whoever did this."

"Then we should search together," Reinhard said firmly. "No one goes more than shouting distance from the group. With this much miasma and the possibility of unstable structures or other hazards, we can't risk anyone getting separated or overwhelmed. We stay within sight of each other, and if anyone feels unwell or notices the miasma affecting them, we evacuate immediately."

The moment they passed the shattered remains of Mirula's outer wall, the full horror of the destruction became viscerally, unbearably real.

The heat hit them first, the penetrating heat that radiated from the ground itself mixed with the arid scorching wind coming from the dunes. The stone beneath their feet was still warm, still holding the memory of the inferno that had consumed everything. In some places, the stone had actually melted and re-solidified, creating smooth, glass-like surfaces that reflected the afternoon sun in distorted patterns.

The ash was everywhere, coating every surface in a thick gray blanket that puffed up in small clouds with each step. It got into their noses, their mouths, coating their tongues with a bitter, acrid taste that Beatrice's barriers could only partially filter out. Emilia found herself fighting the urge to cough, knowing that giving in would only make it worse.

The settlement's layout was still vaguely discernible beneath the destruction. They could make out what had probably been the main section of the town, a slightly wider space between foundations that would have served as the town's central street. Off to one side was a larger foundation that must have been the inn, with the collapsed remains of what looked like a stable attached. The trading post would have been the stone structure near the entrance, positioned to catch travelers before they went deeper into the settlement.

But these functional observations were just ways for Emilia's mind to avoid confronting what else was scattered throughout the ruins.

Bodies.

They found the first one almost immediately, a huddled form near the remains of the inn. The fire had consumed most of the flesh, leaving behind charred bones that still held their final position. The skeleton was curled in on itself, arms wrapped protectively around... empty air, body around it burnt to nothing.

Emilia turned away, her hand pressed to her mouth, fighting the rising nausea. But she couldn't look away for long. There were more. So many more.

Small clusters of remains near building foundations where people had tried to take shelter. Skeletal forms collapsed in the open where they'd been caught by the initial blast. Here and there, bodies that had been partially protected from the worst of the fire by fallen stone or other debris had been mummified by the heat rather than burned completely, their dried flesh shrunk tight against their bones, frozen in expressions of terror and agony that would haunt Emilia's nightmares for the rest of her life.

One corpse was reaching toward the well, arm outstretched, as if in their final moments they'd been trying to reach water that might save them. Another was clutched against a wall, knees drawn up, hands over their head in a futile attempt at protection. A third was sprawled in a doorway, as if they'd been trying to flee their home when the fire caught them.

Each body told a story. Each represented a life that had ended here in terror and pain. Merchants who'd stopped to rest before continuing their journey. Traders who'd made this harsh outpost their home. Perhaps a few families who'd chosen to raise their children on the edge of civilization, believing the isolation would keep them safe.

All of them wrong. All of them dead.

Julius moved through the ruins with mechanical precision, checking each structure, each possible hiding place where someone might have taken shelter. His face was set in hard lines, his jaw clenched so tight that Emilia could see the muscles standing out in his neck. He was pushing down his reaction, compartmentalizing his horror to focus on the task at hand. But she could see the toll it was taking in the slight tremor in his hands, the way his breathing had become shallow and controlled.

Anastasia stayed close to him, her merchant's pragmatism warring with obvious distress. She kept pulling out a small notebook, a habit born from years of recording transactions and observations, but her hands were shaking too much to write anything coherent. Eventually she gave up and just tucked the notebook away, one hand pressed against her stomach as if trying to settle her churning insides.

Ram's expression had gone completely cold, her face a mask that revealed nothing. But Emilia noticed the way her hands had clenched into fists, her nails digging into her palms hard enough that they must be drawing blood. Unbeknowst to Emilia certain childhood memory was replaying in front of the maid's eyes.

Reinhard moved with terrible purpose, his enhanced strength allowing him to shift debris that the others couldn't budge, checking beneath collapsed structures for anyone who might have survived by taking shelter. But each time he lifted a fallen beam or moved a pile of rubble, he found only more corpsies.

The Sword Saint's expression grew darker with each discovery, and Emilia noticed something she'd never seen before - Reinhard's hands were shaking slightly. Not from exertion or fear, but from barely contained rage. The strongest warrior in the world, the man who could face armies without flinching, was struggling to maintain his composure in the face of such senseless slaughter.

Beatrice remained at the center of their group, her barriers holding steady despite the obvious strain. But Emilia could see the way her breathing had become labored. Maintaining this level of protection against such concentrated corruption was taking its toll.

"Betty needs everyone to stay close, in fact," Beatrice called out, her voice strained. "The miasma is starting to test Betty's barriers, I suppose.

They continued their grim search, moving methodically through the ruins. The trading post revealed bodies that had died clutching precious cargo - merchants who'd tried to save their goods even as the fire consumed them. The inn held the most bodies, people who'd taken shelter inside thinking the stone walls would protect them, not realizing that the building would become an oven that cooked them alive before the flames ever reached them.

A frontier settlement like Mirula wouldn't have had more than couple hundred people at most, probably fewer. But based on the remains they were finding, it seemed like the majority of the population had been caught completely off-guard. The cruelty of it was staggering. Whoever had done this had either deliberately chosen a time when people would be most vulnerable, or had simply not cared that they were killing people who had no chance to defend themselves or escape.

"There's no one alive here," Reinhard said after perhaps forty minutes of searching, his voice hollow and haunted in a way Emilia had never heard from the Sword Saint before. "Everyone who could flee has already done so. Everyone else..."

He didn't need to finish the sentence. The evidence was everywhere around them.

They gathered near what had once been the central well now just a lined hole filled with ash and debris. Some of the bodies they'd found bore evidence of having tried to throw themselves into the well, perhaps hoping the water at the bottom would save them. It hadn't. The well itself had boiled, the survivors had said, the heat so intense that water had vaporized.

The sun was lowering toward the horizon, painting the ruins in shades of gold and amber that made the destruction seem almost beautiful in a terrible way. The light caught on melted glass and twisted metal, creating brief flashes of brightness among the ash and char. It was grotesquely beautiful.

"We should discuss what we've found," Reinhard said quietly, his eyes still scanning the ruins as if hoping against hope to spot some sign of life they'd missed. "And decide our next course of action before this place can do us any more harm."

Julius's jaw was clenched tight, his hands balled into fists at his sides. Emilia could see him struggling with internal conflict that was written in the tension of his shoulders and the way his eyes kept returning to the bodies scattered throughout the ruins.

"The survivors we spoke to on the road mentioned a raven-haired boy fleeing the scene," he finally said, his voice tight with controlled emotion. "This also coincides with what Roswaal-sama told as back at the mansion. If both accounts are accurate, and given what we're seeing here, I have no reason to doubt them, then we're dealing with someone young but incredibly powerful. Powerful enough to do this." He gestured at the devastation around them.

"A new Sin Archbishop," Ram said flatly. It wasn't a question but a statement of fact. Her voice was cold, devoid of inflection, but Emilia could see the fury burning in her eyes. "Roswaal-sama's intelligence was correct. Someone with power comparable to the Archbishops we fought in Priestella did this. Perhaps even stronger, given the scale and speed of the destruction."

The horn Ram had lost as a child would have given her power, perhaps sufficient to fight whatever did this, but that horn was long gone. She was limited now, restricted to miniscule magic her body could provide. The frustration of that limitation was evident in every line of her body.

Anastasia wrapped her arms around herself, her purple eyes troubled as they surveyed the ruins. Her merchant's mind was clearly working through the implications, trying to make sense of something that defied rational explanation.

"But why?" she asked, her voice carrying a note of desperate confusion. "Mirula is just a tiny outpost. There's nothing here worth destroying. No strategic value, no important targets, no significant resources. If this was a Witch Cult attack for what purpose? What would destroying a small town gain them? Was it a childish tantrum for their loss in Priestella?"

She shook her head, her perfectly styled hair coming slightly loose from its normal arrangement. "The Witch Cult's attacks usually have purpose, even if that purpose is insane by normal standards. They target royal candidates, or places with significant magical energy, or settlements with political importance. But Mirula? From a strategic standpoint, destroying this place accomplishes nothing except cutting off one route into the Sand Dunes. And there are other routes, harder routes, but they exist. So what was the point? What did this accomplish?"

"Maybe that's exactly the point," Julius suggested darkly, his knight's training evident in the way he analyzed the situation despite his obvious emotional distress. "A demonstration of power. A warning. Or perhaps whoever did this was simply passing through and destroyed Mirula because they could. Because there was no one here strong enough to stop them, and they felt like flexing their power."

The thought that someone could annihilate an entire settlement of innocent people simply as an afterthought, a momentary indulgence of destructive power without purpose or meaning beyond the act itself was horrifying but also something that was very in character for Witch Cult.

"The reports said this boy was seen fleeing toward the Augria Sand Dunes," Ram said quietly. "The same direction we need to go to reach the Watchtower. If he's truly an Archbishop, we may encounter him on our route. And if we do..." She left the threat unspoken, but the implication was clear.

Beatrice's barriers flickered slightly, drawing everyone's attention. The small spirit was struggling visibly now, her legs trembling with the effort of maintaining protection against the corrupted mana that saturated the area.

"Then we need to be vigilant, I suppose," Beatrice said firmly, despite her obvious exhaustion. Her small face was set in an unusually stern expression, all traces of her normal haughty confidence replaced by grim determination. "Betty agrees with Ram, in fact. The concentration of miasma is very similar to one held by Sin Archbishops, I suppose".

She paused, catching her breath before continuing. "Someone corrupted the mana in this area purposefully, deliberately, with skill and power that Betty has rarely encountered, in fact. Someone created that explosion and the fires that followed with full awareness of what they were doing and what the result would be. This was murder, calculated and intentional, I suppose."

Emilia wanted to argue, wanted to counsel caution about jumping to conclusions. Part of her still clung to the hope that there was some explanation, some missing piece of information that would make this make sense, that would reveal this to be something other than casual genocide.

But looking around at the ruins, at the ash that had once been people, at the skeletal remains of families who'd died together, she found she couldn't voice those objections. The evidence was damning. The destruction was too complete, too deliberate, too uniform to be anything but intentional. Someone had done this. Someone with tremendous power and apparently no conscience whatsoever had erased Mirula from existence.

And that someone might be somewhere ahead of them, in the Augria Sand Dunes, potentially between them and their destination.

"We continue forward," Emilia said finally, making the decision with more confidence than she felt. The words tasted like ash in her mouth, appropriate, given their surroundings. "We knew this journey would be dangerous when we set out. This makes it more so, considerably more so, but it doesn't change our fundamental mission. We need to reach the Watchtower and find answers. We need to save everyone affected by Gluttony's authority, help those transformed by Capella's curse. We can't turn back now, not when we've come this far."

She looked around at her companions, meeting each of their eyes in turn. "But we also need to be prepared. If we encounter this raven-haired boy, we treat him as a potential threat until we have concrete evidence otherwise. We cannot attack people just because of suspicions. Many people were running away from the town during the fire. One boy is not special to be singled out." Although there was also the fact that the boy was not a local according to the sources, he was also the only person that had run towards the Augria Sand Dunes and was the only person to have escaped from the epicenter of the explosion unscathed.

Emilia sighed, "And please do not attack any threats alone. We need to stick together".

She looked particularly pointedly at Reinhard as she said this last part. The Sword Saint had a tendency to shoulder burdens alone, to face threats single-handedly because he could, because his Divine Protections made him nearly invincible in direct combat. But the Archbishops they'd faced before had demonstrated that combat power alone wasn't always sufficient. Their authorities operated on principles that transcended normal physics, that rewrote the rules of reality itself in limited but profound ways. Reinhard already had one experience of flying at a moon as proof.

Reinhard met her gaze and nodded slowly, acknowledging the implicit command. "Understood, Lady Emilia," he said formally. "Though I should note that if this individual attacks members of our party, I may not be able to hold back".

Anastasia pulled out her notebook again, this time managing to steady her hands enough to jot down a few quick observations. "We also need to consider the logistical implications. Mirula was supposed to be our last major resupply point before the deep desert. Without it, we're looking at ten days of provisions, maybe twelve if we're very careful with rationing. After that, we'll be dependent on whatever we can hunt or forage in the Sand Dunes, and from what I understand, both hunting and foraging there is impossible considering the amount of Mabeasts we will encounter."

Emilia nodded her head in agreement. "We will be careful Anastasia, and hopefully we will reach the tower soon without having to worry abour rationing". There wasn't much else to say after that. Everybody moved to their respective carriages and ground dragons quickly headed toward the unending expanse of the Augria Dunes. Town of Mirula was left behind, but its sight and horror that the expidition had seen there would imprint in their mind for the rest of their lives.

Chapter Text

The Augria Sand Dunes stretched endlessly ahead, a sea of golden waves rolling toward the horizon. Subaru urged Beast forward, the ground dragon's powerful legs churning through the sand effortlessly. Behind them, the smoke from Mirula still stained the sky, a dark smudge against the pale blue, following him like an accusation.

The desert heat Subaru had expected never arrived.

He had braced himself for scorching temperatures, for oppressive warmth that could make each breath feel like inhaling fire. Instead, the air was simply warm, almost pleasant compared to what he had faced in Mirula. The sun beat down above, yes, but it was nothing like the suffocating desert heat he had expected.

Subaru was confused. Kareem had warned him about the desert's harshness, the dangers of Sand Time, and the creatures lurking beneath the dunes. But he had said nothing about the temperature being manageable. If anything temperature was barely more than in Mirula. Had Kareem lied to him when he mentioned the scorching heat? Was he trying to subtly dissuade him from travelling here? Well, it did not matter, Subaru would have never turned back from Mirula, only path was forward however thorny and dangerous it would be. Besides, Kareem was a churning corpse, so not like his input on the situation had any meaning in the end.

What Subaru was not aware of was the corruption from the miasma propagating in the dunes. It ate and distorted everything in its path, thus the condition of the dunes was more like magical phenomenon rather than an actual desert he learnt about on Earth. In a certain, happier timeline, Beatrice would have explained this to him, but right now Subaru only had himself, his fire spirit and temperamental ground dragon for company.

Polaris appeared beside him, her flames flickering with concern. She pressed against Beast's side, trying to catch Subaru's attention with small chirps and flickers that danced in the air like fireflies.

Subaru remained unresponsive. His gaze was fixed on the distant horizon.

The spirit tried again, forming shapes with her flames, a flower, a bird, simple things that usually made her contractor smile. Nothing. The light in Subaru's eyes, the spark of determination and mischief that usually burned brightly, had faded to almost nothing.

Even Beast seemed to notice. The ground dragon turned its head back toward its rider occasionally, making soft questioning sounds that went unanswered. Subaru simply sat there, hands gripping the reins with mechanical precision. His body moved with Beast's rhythm, but his mind was clearly elsewhere - Back in Mirula. Back to Hadir's burnt corpse, curled up like a child seeking comfort that would never come. Back to the screams of people burning alive while he enjoyed his time with Satella. Back to the realisation that his mere presence in that town had brought this disaster upon innocent lives.

I did this, Subaru thought numbly. Lye came because of me. All those people died because I was there. Families torn apart, the children who would never see another day, the lives ended because Natsuki Subaru had decided to stop in their town.

Polaris gave up trying to lift his spirits, settling into a steady flame at his side. She sensed his pain through their bond, the weight of guilt pressing down on him like physical chains. All she could do was stay close, providing warmth in the cold emptiness that had settled over her contractor's heart.

The first day passed in silence, broken only by Beast's footfalls and the whispering wind across the sand.

When afternoon came and the sky darkened with dust, Subaru mechanically set up his tent. He had learned from Kareem's warnings that Sand Time was deadly for those caught unprepared. Three times a day, the desert turned hostile, with winds carrying sand and miasma that blocked visibility and could become deadly if the corruption was not contained.

Morning Sand Time. Afternoon Sand Time. Evening Sand Time. Subaru was really getting used to feeling sand, he had even memorised the taste of it due to how much it was around him.

Subaru sat in his tent during the afternoon storm, listening to the howling winds outside. The tent's walls shook and strained, but Kareem's tent was well-made, built to withstand these daily assaults. Inside, the air was still and quiet, almost peaceful.

Subaru stared at his hands. They were steady now, but he could still feel them shaking from his fight with Lye. He could remember the moment when the Invisible Providence had almost crushed the life from that smiling, mocking face, when a simple Al Goa had turned into devastating inferno of hellfire around him, leaving everything but him burnt to crisps.

He had won. He had killed an Archbishop of the Witch Cult.

But it didn’t feel like victory, instead It felt like ashes and smoke and the smell of burning flesh. Thoughts, memories and feelings that Subaru could not get rid of no matter how much he tried. So he desperately focused on tasks and small things he needed to distract himself from thinking and remembering.

When the storm passed, Subaru packed up his tent and continued. Beast seemed grateful for the rest, but Subaru could see concern in the dragon’s eyes. He reached out absently to pat the creature's neck, a gesture of reassurance that probably looked as hollow as it felt.

The second day was much the same.

Morning came with the first Sand Time. Subaru waited it out in his tent, eating mechanically from his supplies. The dried meat and hard bread tasted bland, but he forced himself to eat. He needed his strength. The Tower was still far away, just a distant shimmer on the horizon that never seemed to get closer, no matter how far they travelled.

When the storm passed, he emerged and continued riding. The dunes rolled on endlessly, an ocean frozen in golden waves. Here and there, he spotted the bones of creatures picked clean by scavengers, massive rib cages jutting from the sand like the remains of fallen giants. Sand Earthworms, probably. Kareem had warned him about those too. Kareem had helped him a lot in truth, it was Subaru who had repaid that kindness with flames and pain.

Polaris floated alongside him, her flames dim. She had given up trying to draw him out of his shell, content to simply be there. Sometimes Subaru would reach out to touch her warmth, seeking comfort in her presence, but the gesture felt automatic and distant.

His mind kept returning to Mirula. To the Shadow Garden.

Was it worth it? he wondered. Killing him, stopping him from taking more memories, was it worth what happened to Mirula?

He didn’t have an answer. He wasn’t sure he’d ever have one.

The afternoon Sand Time came and went. Subaru set up his tent, waited out the storm, packed everything away, and continued. The routine was becoming automatic, a rhythm requiring no thought, which suited him. Thinking led to remembering, and remembering led to images of Hadir's burnt face twisted in agony.

Evening approached. The sun hung low on the horizon, painting the dunes in amber and gold. This time, the evening Sand Time struck earlier than he expected. The sky darkened rapidly, dust and sand whipping into a wall rushing toward him across the dunes. Subaru urged Beast toward a relatively flat area and quickly set up his tent, securing it just as the storm hit.

Inside, he sat in darkness lit only by Polaris's gentle flames. The spirit curled up beside him, offering whatever comfort she could. Subaru leaned against her warmth and closed his eyes, though sleep wouldn't come. Every time he tried, he saw fire and heard screaming.

So instead, he planned. The Watchtower was his goal. Hopefully the Great Sage was there, waiting. And beyond that... beyond that was just flimsy hope that he would find some answers, some guidance to his newly formed desire of going back home.

Satella had embraced him in the Shadow Garden. She had called him precious. She had promised to always love him.

But Subaru wasn't sure how to answer her feeling. He wasn't sure he deserved love and affection after the monstrosity he had unleashed on innocent people. How was he better compared to a Sin Archbishop when five of them combined did not cause the havoc and destruction Subaru alone managed to do?

The storm howled outside, giving neither peace nor answers to Subaru. So he sat in silence, his expression hard and closed off. The only thing that he could hope for that sooner or later he would reach the Watchtower.

He had to.

The morning of the third day began like the others. Sand Time came with dawn, and Subaru waited it out in his tent. When the storm passed and he emerged and urged Beast forward, and they continued across the dunes. The Tower was a still image in front of him, somehow it still hadn't gotten close - he could see details of its structure, though it still shimmered in the distance like a mirage. Subaru wasn't sure he had made any progress so far and that thought annoyed him greatly. 

Polaris appeared beside him, her flames dancing in the morning light. She seemed more energetic today, as if she had rested well during the night. Subaru wished he could say the same. He had barely slept, too caught up in memories and guilt to find peace.

The hours passed. The dunes rolled on, one after another, an endless sea of sand that all looked the same. Subaru's mind wandered, caught in dark thoughts that circled like vultures.

He was so lost in thought that he almost didn’t notice the eerie silence.

Beyond the monotonous sound of Beast's footfalls and the whispering wind, the desert was strangely quiet. No birds called overhead. No insects buzzed in the air.

I don’t like sand, Subaru thought absently, a ghost of his old humour trying to surface. It's coarse and rough and irritating, and it gets everywhere.

The thought felt hollow, the reference devoid of the joy it might have once held. Everything felt hollow now. He was so tired.

He was about to sink back into his brooding when the ground beneath Beast's feet began to tremble.

Subaru's head snapped up, his hand instinctively reaching for the whip at his belt. The trembling grew stronger, sending ripples across the dunes like waves on water. Beast let out a nervous sound and tried to change direction, but the shaking was coming from all around them.

Then the sand exploded. A massive shape burst from the dune directly in front of them, spraying golden sand in all directions. Subaru's eyes widened in shock as the creature rose higher, towering over them like a fleshy skyscraper.

A Sand Earthworm.

Subaru had seen the bones scattered across the desert, but nothing had prepared him for the sheer size of the living thing. It was easily twenty meters long, possibly more, with a body as thick as a house. Its segmented form gleamed in the sunlight, covered in mucus that dripped down its sides and sizzled where it hit the sand.

The creature had no eyes, it certainly didn’t need them underground, but its mouth was another matter. It opened wide enough to swallow Beast whole, revealing rows of hooked teeth curving inward. Saliva dripped from those teeth, thick and viscous, and where it landed on the sand, the ground began to steam and dissolve.

Acid, Subaru realised with dawning horror.

The worm let out a sound like grinding stone mixed with rushing water and began to descend toward them. It moved with terrifying speed for something so large, its mouth opening wider.

Fear froze Subaru for half a heartbeat. This thing was massive, alien, and it made every instinct scream at him to run. Then the fear crystallised into determination; Cold, sharp determination.

I just killed an Archbishop, Subaru thought, his expression hardening. I'm not dying to an oversized earthworm.

"Beast, move!" he shouted, and the ground dragon needed no further encouragement. The creature bolted to the side as the worm came crashing down, its mouth slamming into the sand where they'd been standing just moments before.

Subaru felt the familiar sensation of Invisible Providence awakening, that twisted power that came from mastering the Witch Factor of Sloth. One hand materialised first, then a second, then a third. Three unseen appendages stretched out from him, invisible to normal eyes but as real as his own limbs. Subaru had been afraid at first of using this power again, but at the same time he could not afford to not use it. He had already learnt what a bad idea forcing the full power of his authority was during his fight with Lye, but Subaru would not, could not restrict himself for the sake of self-preservation and fear.

There was nobody to help him, there was no Otto punch his face screaming at him to rely at others, there was no Beatrice to hurl Minyas at his enemies, no Emilia to cast astounding fire magic around him. He was alone, with his spirit, trusty whip and twisted power eager to be used. There could be no hesitance unless he wanted to die over and over again.

The worm began burrowing back into the sand, preparing for another attack. Subaru wouldn't give it the chance.

He focused his will, shaping the hands of Invisible Providence into a shape of a sharp spear. Subaru learnt that he could make them hard as steel or soft as silk, could extend them dozens of meters or keep them close for precise work.

Right now, he needed cutting power.

The three hands became blades, edges honed as sharp as any sword. When the worm burst from the sand again, coming at them from a different angle, Subaru was ready.

He slashed.

The invisible blades carved through the creature's flesh like it was nothing. Segmented body parts fell away, severed clean through, and the worm let out that grinding shriek again, this time in pain. Thick, foul-smelling blood sprayed from the wounds, splattering across the sand.

Subaru didn't relent. He struck again and again, the three hands-turned-blades of Invisible Providence moving in perfect coordination. Each hand was following his mental commands with precision. Slash across the body. Stab into the mouth. Carve through the segments.

His whip hung useless at his belt. Against something this large, that fought from underground and could appear anywhere, the whip was worthless. But Invisible Providence was perfect and precise - Invisible attacks the creature couldn't see coming, couldn't dodge, couldn't defend against.

Polaris circled above, her flames bright with anticipation. Subaru could feel her eagerness through their bond, the spirit practically vibrating with excitement. She wanted to be unleashed, wanted to burn, but Subaru held her back.

The ground erupted around them.

Not one worm this time. Not two. Five massive Sand Earthworms exploded from the dunes simultaneously, coming from every direction at once. They'd been drawn by the blood of their fellow, by the vibrations of combat, or perhaps by the Witch scent of prey that had dared to fight back.

The shock-wave of their emergence threw both Subaru and Beast through the air. Subaru felt himself tumbling, sand and sky spinning together in a dizzying spiral. He hit the ground hard, the impact driving the air from his lungs, and rolled several times before coming to a stop.

Everything hurt. His ribs screamed in protest. His head spun. But he could see Beast a few meters away, struggling to its feet.

Subaru pushed himself up, ignoring the pain, and ran. The worms were converging, their massive bodies creating a cage of flesh around them. He had seconds, maybe less.

He leaped onto Beast's back in a single fluid motion, the ground dragon already moving before he'd fully settled into position. "Go, go, go!" he shouted, though Beast needed no encouragement.

They bolted forward, weaving between the descending worms. Subaru's three hands of Invisible Providence lashed out constantly, carving through flesh, creating openings, buying them precious seconds. Behind them, he could hear the grinding screech of the creatures as they pursued, their massive bodies moving through the sand with terrifying speed.

"Polaris!" Subaru called out, and the spirit blazed to life.

She understood immediately. Flames erupted around Subaru's hands, not his physical hands, but the invisible ones. The unseen appendages became wreathed in fire, turning them from mere cutting tools into incinerating weapons.

The dance began.

Beast wove between the dunes at breakneck speed while Subaru became a whirlwind of violence. The three burning hands of Invisible Providence struck out in all directions, creating a defensive perimeter that the worms couldn't breach. Any flesh that came close was carved away and set ablaze, filling the air with the stench of burning meat and boiling ichor.

One worm came at them from the right. Subaru's first hand stabbed forward, the invisible blade wrapped in fire punching clean through the creature's skull. The flames spread rapidly, consuming the worm from the inside out. It thrashed and screamed, collapsing back into the sand.

Two more attacked from the left. The second and third hands moved in tandem, slashing across their bodies in perfect synchronisation. Segments of flesh fell away, each one burning, and the worms retreated underground to escape the flames.

But there were still more.

Subaru's head was beginning to pound. Controlling three hands at once required intense mental focus, and he'd been fighting for what felt like hours now. Each slash, each stab, each defensive movement took concentration and will. And he was starting to slip.

One worm got through his defences, its mouth grazing Beast's flank. The dragon cried out in pain, and Subaru felt a spike of fear. If Beast went down, they were finished.

He retaliated viciously, all three hands converging on the worm's head. They carved it apart in seconds, reducing it to chunks of burning meat. But the effort cost him, his vision blurred, and the pounding in his head intensified.

Too much, he thought desperately. Using too much power for too long.

Another worm burst from the sand. Then another. They just kept coming, drawn by the chaos, by the scent of blood and fire. How many of these things lived under the dunes? How large were their colonies?

Subaru carved through another one, then a third. Beast was slowing down, exhausted from the constant running and bleeding from the acid that had touched its flank. Polaris blazed around them, her flames forming a barrier, but even she was beginning to dim.

The fourth worm came at them from behind. Subaru's third hand lashed out, but his aim was off. The blade carved a shallow wound instead of a killing blow, and the worm kept coming.

Its mouth opened wide.

Subaru turned, ready to strike again, but the pounding in his head had become a roar. His vision was narrowing, tunnelling down to just what was directly in front of him. The mental strain of directing three hands at once, combined with the physical exhaustion of the journey and the emotional trauma of Mirula, was finally catching up to him.

The worm's acid-dripping teeth filled his vision.

Instantly Polaris materialised in front of him, jumping right into the mows of the beast. Subaru did not hesitate, screaming out "Goa" and Polaris exploded inside the earthworm, blood, flesh and bones rained down on Subaru.

Then Beast found one last burst of speed avoiding the acidic blood and spit raining down on them. Subaru pulled the Invisible hands on top of him, further shielding them from potential damage. But he couldn't see clearly anymore. Everything was swimming, doubling, his head pounding so hard he thought his skull might crack.

One more worm fell. Then another. Then-

Blessed silence.

Subaru looked around, his vision clearing slightly. They were surrounded by burning corpses and chunks of worm flesh scattered across the dunes. The sand was stained dark with blood. The air stank of burning meat and acid.

And there were no more worms coming.

He'd done it. They'd survived.

Subaru let the hands of Invisible Providence dissipate, and immediately collapsed forward onto Beast's neck. The ground dragon slowed to a halt, too exhausted to continue. All three of them, Subaru, Beast, and Polaris, were completely spent.

The pounding in Subaru's head was overwhelming now, a migraine that felt like someone was driving nails through his temples. His vision kept blurring and clearing, blurring and clearing. Every muscle in his body ached, and his mind felt like it had been scraped raw.

Controlling three hands simultaneously had really exhausted him.

But they were alive. That's what mattered. They were alive, and the worms were dead, and - 

The sky was darkening.

Subaru looked up through pain-blurred eyes and realised with sinking dread that Sand Time was approaching. Afternoon Sand Time, coming early, or perhaps right on schedule and he'd just lost track of time during the fight.

He needed to set up the tent. Needed to secure Beast. Needed to - 

He managed to slide off the dragon's back before his legs gave out. Beast looked at him with concern, but Subaru waved the creature off weakly. "I'm fine," he lied. "Just... need a minute."

The wind was already picking up, carrying the first hints of the sand and miasma to come. Subaru forced himself to move, to pull out the tent and set it up with shaking hands. Every movement sent spikes of pain through his skull, but he kept going through sheer stubbornness.

Polaris tried to help, using her flames to drive stakes into the sand, but even she was dimmed from the extended combat. The spirit was usually tireless, but they'd been fighting for so long, burning through so much mana.

By the time the full storm hit, Subaru had managed to get the tent secured and Beast tied nearby with a covering over its eyes and nose to protect from the worst of the sand. He collapsed inside the tent and lay there, gasping, as the world outside became a howling nightmare.

His head felt like it was splitting in two. The price of using so much of the Authority's power, of pushing himself beyond his limits. But he'd had no choice. It was that or die.

Just like always, he thought bitterly. Fight or die. Use the power or be consumed. There's never a third option.

Polaris curled up against him, her warmth comforting even in her exhausted state. Subaru reached out with a trembling hand to stroke her flames, drawing what comfort he could from her presence.

Outside, the storm raged. Inside, Subaru lay in darkness, his mind too fractured by pain and exhaustion to think clearly. He just had to wait it out. Wait for the storm to pass, wait for his head to stop pounding, wait for his strength to return - Always surviving. Always one step away from death.

Please, he thought desperately, please be worth all of this. Please have the answers I need.

The storm howled on, and Subaru closed his eyes, seeking the temporary oblivion of sleep. But even that refuge was denied him, every time he started to drift off, he saw Hadir's burnt face or felt the phantom sensation of being sliced apart by the Archbishop of Gluttony.

So instead he lay there, conscious but not truly awake, listening to the sand scour the walls of his tent and wondering how much more he could endure before he would finally give out.

When Subaru emerged from his tent after the storm passed, the desert had returned to its usual eerie calm. The worm corpses were already being covered by the shifting sand, nature reclaiming its dead. In a few days, there would be nothing but bones to mark the battle.

He felt slightly better, the pounding in his head had subsided to a dull ache, and his vision was clear again. Rest, even fitful rest, had done him some good. But he was still exhausted, his body and mind running on fumes.

Beast seemed recovered enough to continue, the acid burns on its skin painful but not debilitating. Subaru spent a few minutes treating them with supplies from his pack, basic medicines that Kareem had included. The ground dragon bore the treatment stoically, though Subaru could see the pain in its eyes.

"Sorry," he murmured, running a hand along the creature's neck. "I know it hurts. But we have to keep going.

The Tower did not seem noticeably closer after their mad dash during the worm fight, though. It loomed larger on the horizon, its white stone gleaming in the afternoon light.

Subaru packed up his tent and mounted Beast once more. Polaris materialised beside him, her flames back to their normal brightness after the rest. She seemed pleased with herself, probably replaying the fight in her mind and remembering the destruction they'd wrought.

Subaru felt nothing but exhaustion at the memory.

They continued across the dunes as the day wore into evening. The sun hung low, painting the sand in shades of copper and gold. Subaru kept his eyes fixed on the Tower, using it as a focal point to avoid sinking back into dark thoughts.

Evening Sand Time came and went. Subaru set up his tent, waited out the storm, packed everything away. The routine was becoming second nature now, his body moving automatically while his mind wandered elsewhere.

When night fell, he allowed himself to rest properly.

The Tower looking impossibly close and yet still distant. It shimmered in the morning light, like a mirage that refused to become real.

He frowned. They'd been travelling for days now, and the Towers still hadn't gotten closer. But why? Was this what Kareem meant that many were lost during their trip to the tower? He had been travelling for days now, resources and patience dwindling. Subaru was exhausted and just wanted to get to that blasted tower. How much space did he need to cover to even make a dent on his journey? It was like the Watchtower was there to mock him, unreachable and glorious at the same time. I have travelled quite some distance, I know this, I am sure of it. I should have covered at least some space between the Desert and Watchtower by now... Space... Space... Wait, could it be? Some kind of spatial distortion? he wondered. Or temporal magic? Something to protect the Tower from casual visitors?

Subaru urged Beast forward, his eyes fixed on the Tower. If there was spatial magic involved, there had to be a way through it. A key, a trigger, something that would allow passage to those who—

His thoughts were interrupted by the sky darkening.

Afternoon Sand Time had come. It was far too early for the afternoon storm, though, Subaru wondered. Did the storms randomly move around deciding the time themselves? The horizon was filling with dust and sand, a wall of churning darkness that rushed toward him across the dunes.

Still, Subaru thought, The storms came at regular intervals - morning, afternoon, evening. They'd been consistent for the past three days. 

The storm was almost on him. Subaru quickly dismounted and began setting up his tent, moving with practised speed. Beast stood nearby, waiting patiently, while Polaris hovered overhead, her flames flickering with concern.

The first gusts of wind hit just as Subaru finished securing the last stake. He ducked inside the tent, pulling Beast's covering over the dragon's face, and then settled in to wait.

But this storm was different from the others.

It howled with a fury that made the previous Sand Times seem gentle by comparison. The wind didn't just blow, it was intense, it screamed, a sound like thousands of voices crying out in unison. The tent walls strained and shook, threatening to tear free despite the stakes driven deep into the sand.

Subaru huddled in the center, Polaris pressed close to provide light and warmth. Through the canvas, he could hear Beast's frightened sounds, the ground dragon clearly disturbed by the intensity of the storm.

The sand didn't just scour the tent, it hammered it, driven by winds so strong they felt like physical blows. Subaru could feel each impact, could hear the tent tearing in places. If this kept up, the tent would be shredded, and they'd be exposed to the full fury of the storm.

He'd die out there. The sand and wind would strip flesh from bone in minutes.

But even as fear gripped him, something else caught Subaru's attention. There, just at the edge of his vision through a small tear he finally noticed something for the first time - a small shimmer. A distortion in the air that had nothing to do with the sand or wind - Space was twisting around him.

Subaru's mind raced. If he could see the barrier, that meant he could potentially interact with it. Could find a way through. But that would mean leaving the protection of the tent, exposing himself to the storm's full force.

That's suicide, the logical part of his brain insisted. You'll die in seconds. But Subaru learned to think beyond normal limits, he was already calculating. He had Invisible Providence. He had Polaris. He had survived an Archbishop of the Witch Cult alone.

If he used the hands to create a shield in front of him, angled so the wind was forced to flow around and to the sides rather than hitting him head-on... if Polaris helped reinforce his body against the tearing sand... if he moved quickly, directly toward the shimmer...

He might make it. Might breach the barrier before the storm killed him.

The key word being might.

Subaru looked at Polaris. The spirit's flames flickered with concern, but also with trust. She'd follow him anywhere, even into certain death if that's what he chose.

I'm insane, he thought. This is insane.

But he was also out of options. They couldn't keep travelling toward a Tower they'd never reach. The spatial distortion would keep them at bay forever, slowly draining their supplies until they died of thirst or fell to witchbeasts. This might be his only chance to breach whatever protection covered the Sand Dunes.

Subaru took a deep breath. "Polaris," he said quietly, "I need you to burn as bright as possible, create a beacon I can follow if I get disoriented."

The spirit chirped acknowledgement, her flames intensifying slightly.

Subaru crawled to the tent entrance and peered out through the small opening. The storm was a nightmare of churning sand and howling wind. Visibility was nearly zero. But there, he could see the shimmer, that telltale distortion in the air that marked the barrier's presence.

He focused his will, calling forth Invisible Providence. Three hands materialised, invisible to normal sight but as real as flesh and blood. He shaped them carefully, turning them into a curved shield, angled in a way that would force the wind to split and flow around him rather than striking head-on.

Polaris's flames enveloped him, forming a thin layer of protection over his skin and clothes. It wouldn't stop the full might of the storm, but every bit of protection could mean the difference between life and death.

"Beast!" Subaru called out over the roar of the storm. "When the storm passes, follow my trail! Head toward the Tower!"

He didn't know if the ground dragon understood, but he couldn't wait any longer. The shimmer was there, visible, and might fade once the storm passed.

Subaru pushed out of the tent.

The wind hit him like a physical wall, nearly driving him back inside. Only his Invisible Providence shield kept him from being immediately thrown backward. The sand tore at his exposed skin, tiny particles moving so fast they felt like needles. Polaris's flames burned brighter, creating a barrier, but sand got through it regardless.

It was agony. Pure, screaming agony as the desert tried to flay him alive.

He forced himself forward, one step at a time. The Invisible Providence shield curved in front of him, forcing the wind sideways. Yet, air kept finding gaps, sand kept slipping through, but it was enough to keep him upright and moving.

The shimmer was directly ahead, maybe twenty meters away. It looked like heat distortion, like reality itself was rippling and uncertain. Through it, Subaru thought he could see a landscape that didn't match the desert around him.

Fifteen meters.

His skin was raw where the sand had touched it, blood mixing with the grit that coated him. Polaris was burning so bright she was almost blinding, her flames a beacon of defiance against the storm. But even she was struggling, her flames flickering and dimming with each passing second.

Ten meters.

Subaru's legs were screaming in protest, every muscle straining against the wind. The Invisible Providence shield was faltering, his mental control weakening under the assault. He could feel his concentration slipping, the hands beginning to lose their shape.

Not yet, he thought desperately. Just a little further!

Five meters.

The shimmer was right in front of him now, a wall of rippling reality. Up close, it was more pronounced, he could see the distortion clearly, could make out hints of what lay beyond. Flowers. Somehow, impossibly, there were flowers on the other side.

Three meters.

Two meters.

Subaru reached out with his physical hand, fingers extended toward the barrier. The wind was so strong he could barely move, his body beginning to fail, Polaris's flames sputtering. Just a little—

His fingers touched the shimmer.

Reality lurched.

There was a sensation of falling, of being stretched and compressed simultaneously. Then the world snapped back into focus, and Subaru stumbled forward, the wind suddenly gone.

He fell to his knees, gasping.

Subaru raised his head and looked around. The only thing in sight was unending field of Flowers.

The ground before him was covered in them, white and pink blooms that stretched as far as the eye could see across the sand. They swayed gently in a breeze that had nothing to do with the storm he'd just escaped, their petals perfect and pristine despite the hostile environment.

Subaru's breath caught in his throat. His hands were still shaking from the ordeal of breaching the barrier, his skin raw and bleeding from where the sand had torn through Polaris's protection. But his mind was already racing ahead, connecting dots.

Flowers on sand. In the Augria Sand Dunes.

"No," he whispered, the word barely audible. "No, no, no..."

He knew what these were of course, Courtesan Bears.

The flowers weren't just growing on the sand. They were growing on the bears themselves. Subaru's eyes tracked across the field, noting the uneven mounds, the way certain areas rose higher than others. Each mound was covered in those beautiful, deadly blooms.

Each mound was a sleeping monster.

But it wasn't just dozens or hundreds. As Subaru's eyes adjusted, as he truly looked at the expanse before him, the horrible truth became clear: The entire field, every square meter between him and the Tower kilometers away was covered in those flower-laden mounds. They were packed so tightly together that there was barely any clear sand visible between them. Thousands upon thousands of Courtesan Bears, their bodies pressed against each other, forming a living carpet of death.

There was nowhere to run. Nowhere to hide. The moment one woke up, they would all wake up. And he would be standing in the middle of them.

Subaru's throat went dry. His hand instinctively went to the whip at his belt.

Polaris materialised beside him, her flames dim and flickering from the effort of protecting him through the storm. She looked around at the field of flowers, and even the spirit seemed to understand the precarious situation they found themselves in.

"This is impossible," Subaru whispered. His voice was shaking. "This is... there's no way through this."

He looked back toward where he'd come from. The spatial barrier shimmered behind him, and beyond it he could still hear the muffled roar of the storm. Beast was on the other side, probably terrified and confused by his rider's disappearance.

Subaru couldn't go back. The storm would kill him before he made it to the tent.

He couldn't go forward. The bears would tear him apart the moment they woke.

He was trapped between two impossible choices, and the only way out was death.

One of the nearest mounds shifted slightly in its sleep. Flowers rustled.

Subaru took a step backward instinctively, and his foot came down on something that made a soft crunch.

The sound was tiny. Barely audible.

The nearest mound went still for a moment. Then slowly, deliberately, it began to rise.

"No," Subaru breathed. "Please, no..."

The Courtesan Bear stood to its full height, nearly three meters tall even on its short legs. Flowers cascaded from its body as it moved, revealing the mummified flesh beneath. Its face turned toward him, withered, with sunken eyes that still somehow conveyed intelligence.

Its nostrils flared. Scenting the air. Scenting him.

For one frozen moment, nothing happened. The bear just stared at him. Subaru didn't breathe. Didn't move. Maybe if he stayed perfectly still—

The bear's mouth opened, revealing rows of yellowed teeth, and it let out a howl that pierced right through Subaru's heart.

The entire field exploded into motion.

Every mound erupted simultaneously. Bears rose from sleep in a wave that spread across the entire expanse, their movements creating a sound like thunder rolling across the dunes. Flowers fell like rain as the creatures shook themselves awake, and the air filled with that grinding shriek repeated thousands of times over.

Subaru stood frozen in the center of an army of witchbeasts, every single one turning its eyeless, mummified face toward him.

There was nowhere to run. The bears surrounded him on all sides, packed so tightly that their bodies touched. Even if he could somehow fight through the ones directly in front of him, there were hundreds more behind those. And hundreds more behind those.

The nearest bear took a step toward him. Its long arms reached out, hooked claws extended.

"Fuck," Subaru whispered.

Then they were on him.

The first bear's claws raked across his chest, tearing through cloth and flesh. Subaru screamed and tried to dodge, but there was nowhere to go. Another bear grabbed his arm, its grip like a vice, and pulled. He felt muscles and tendons being torn apart.

Polaris blazed to life, her flames exploding outward in desperation. But there were so many bears that her fire barely made a dent. For every one she drove back, three more took its place.

Subaru tried to summon Invisible Providence, but he was too exhausted, too terrified. His mind couldn't focus through the pain and panic. The hands flickered into existence for a moment, then dissipated.

Claws found his legs, his back, his face. The bears weren't even fighting over him—there were simply so many that they all got a piece. He felt himself being pulled in multiple directions at once, felt his body beginning to come apart.

The pain was indescribable.

Through it all, he could see the Tower in the distance. So close. So impossibly far.

Then teeth found his throat, and darkness claimed him.

Subaru gasped. He was once again standing at the edge of the field of flowers, Polaris beside him, the storm barrier shimmering behind him.

Return by Death had activated.

He immediately fell to his knees, retching. Nothing came up, his stomach was empty, but his body convulsed with the memory of being torn apart. Five seconds. Maybe less. That's how long he'd survived once the bears woke up.

"Fuck," he gasped between heaves. "Fuck, fuck, fuck..."

Polaris chirped worriedly, pressing close to him. Subaru reached out with a shaking hand to touch her flames, but he couldn't stop trembling. Even if he somehow managed to not make a sound, the bears would smell him eventually. The Witch's scent that clung to him, the blood from his sand-torn skin, it would draw them no matter what he did.

Subaru forced himself to stand, to think. The storm was still raging on the other side. He could hear it, could see the darkness beyond the shimmer. How could he fight them? What could he even fight them with? He did not have the energy, the firepower and time to defeat all of them. Even if he made blazing straight line to the tower with Al Goas he could only run so much, Polaris would only be able to support him for a little bit. Fire would die out and he would get shredded once more. 

He looked at Polaris. "Can you burn hot enough to hurt those bears? Really hurt them?"

The spirit flickered, considering. Then she pulsed with affirmation, though Subaru could feel her uncertainty through their bond. She could burn hot, yes, but sustaining that heat against so many targets... The explosion back in Mirula was instantaneous, the fact that Polaris had managed to create such an explosion was incredible in itself, but to ask her to sustain such firepower for prolonged amount of time - it was impossible and pointless to even consider.

"I'm not asking you to kill them all," Subaru said quietly. "I just need you to create a distraction. Something big enough that..." He trailed off, the plan still forming in his mind.

No. That wouldn't work either. Even if Polaris created the biggest fire she could, even if it drew some of the bears away, there would still be thousands more between him and the Tower.

Subaru sat down heavily on the sand, his head in his hands. Think. Think. There had to be something he was missing, some angle he hadn't considered.

The Witch's scent attracted Witchbeasts. That was a constant, an unavoidable fact. The more he died, the stronger it got. And he'd died so many times already, the scent must be overwhelming.

The Sand Earthworms had been drawn to him before. They'd burst from the ground specifically to attack him, driven mad by the concentrated scent that surrounded him. What if he could lure one here, to this exact spot? But how?

The answer was simple of course, exactly how he had done before with the White Whale.

Subaru looked at Polaris, his intention to fully give her the knowledge of the ability he possessed. It did not matter whether or not Polaris understood him, the intent was what mattered behind his declaration. As long as he wanted to break the taboo, the witch would appear to "punish him".

"I can return by dea-", time and space itself froze. Shadows erupted  around him, condensing on him with warning and love mixed in each other. The shadow hand extended from thin air, slowly reaching out to his heart. He did not feel the pain and agony and fear that should have accompanied the sensation of his heart being touched by her shadowy hand.

Instead he felt a vague feeling of fondness and amusement permeate around him, as if the Witch of Envy understood exactly what his intention in invoking the taboo was, intelligence and understanding that she had not demonstrated in any other loops before.

Before Subaru could focus on that though, time unfroze once more and field of flowers exploded in howls. The bears awoke with fury and madness, incited by Subaru's reckless actions. Subaru observed the situation with uncontrollable tremble, the bears would descend on him soon enough.

Please work, please work!!! 

His prayers were answered soon enough - In the middle of the flower garden, sand exploded outwards, the field breaking apart in a cascade. A huge, easily 50 meter tall earthworm shrieked itself to life as it descended on Subaru without hesitation, trampling and eviscerating bears that stood on its way.

Subaru did not hesitate, Polaris understanding his contractor's intention started vibrating around Subaru's whip, engulfing it in a hot, frenzied fire extending outwards with a scorpion like tail at the end. Subaru slashed his whip as if a harpoon directly hitting and sizzling into the skin of the earthworm. The beast screamed but did not stop even a second - Subaru did not want it to - with single invocation of Al Goa, the ground below him exploded into fire, the shock wave sending him through the air. Using his invisible providence and whip that had been deeply stuck and boiled into the skin of the earthworm, Subaru jumped and landed on its head. 

Without hesitation he extended invisible providence into sharp hooks that descended on the beasts head and Subaru became first person in the history of Lugunica to become a rider of a sand earthworm.

The beast writhed in fury and pain, desperately trying to throw the raven haired boy from itself, but Subaru persisted, both his whip and Invisible Providence acting like iron-strong hooks that would not budge, as long as his mental capacity and determination allowed him to withstand the absolute power and rage of the earthworm.

Subaru knew this was a temporary solution, as long as he had mental power and control he could ride the earthworm and trash the bears around him like pancakes, but what happened after? What happened after he got tired, after the earthworm threw him off and remaining thousands of bears descended on him in their gluttonous frenzy? With that thought in mind, desperation, adrenaline and fear fuelled Subaru to reach deep into his conscience, pulling every knowledge, every tool or help that he could use to win this unwinnable battle.

And Subaru's mind cleared, descending on one conversation that he did not understand before but made perfect sense in his current predicament, the advice that Satella left him before the Shadow Garden ebbed away from his mind. - The moment you feel like you have given up, call for her, and she will come to you.

With desperation Subaru yelled out to the Dunes, "Shaula, please help me!!!"

For a moment, all stood still, bears stopped ravaging the tail of the earthworm, the earthworm itself stopped thrashing, no longer trying to throw of the intruder on its back. The very air itself seemed to have frozen. Polaris stopped vibrating around his whip, the fire disappearing into the air peacefully.

Then the world exploded into white.

Because Author-Sama is trash at both drawing and writing, here instead the closest AI generated image of what I imagine our "Mysterious Archbishop" looks like during his expedition in Augria Sand Dunes. Suffice to say Hornytella and Witch of Envy are observing Subaru in delight :D

Chapter Text

The first thing Subaru noticed when he opened his eyes was red, a soft, welcoming crimson that seemed to embrace the world around him. He found himself lying in an endless field of red flowers, their petals swaying gently in a breeze that felt perfectly orchestrated. The flowers stretched as far as he could see, creating a rolling sea of scarlet that rippled with every passing wind.

Slowly, Subaru pushed himself into a sitting position, his hands sinking slightly into the soft earth beneath him. The flowers under his palms felt cool and smooth, their petals like silk against his skin. He brought one hand up to his face, examining it in the unusual light, and found no trace of the dirt and grime he was used to. His hands were clean and unmarred, as if he had just stepped out of a bath.

The sky above was a masterpiece no artist could replicate: Every shades of azure, sapphire, and cerulean imaginable were blending into streaks of gold and amber near the horizon. Wisps of clouds drifted lazily across this canvas, their edges tinged with pink and purple that seemed to glow. The sun hung in the sky like a kind eye, its light warm, casting everything in a golden haze that made the red flowers seem like they were glowing.

Subaru stood, his legs steady beneath him like they hadn't been for what felt like ages. The exhaustion that had become his constant companion was gone, replaced by a lightness that made him feel as if he could float away with the slightest breeze. He took a deep breath, and the scent filling his lungs was intoxicating, sweet and overwhelming, a perfect blend of floral notes that seemed to wash away every bad memory, every moment of suffering, every bit of pain that had piled up in his mind like layers of sediment.

"Where..." he started to say, but the word died on his lips. The question felt unnecessary, even unwelcome in this place. Wherever he was, it felt right. It felt like going back home.

As he walked through the field, the flowers parted before him as if welcoming an honored guest. Each step released new waves of that incredible scent, and Subaru found himself smiling, without forcing it, without the bitterness of irony or the weight of false cheer.

That's when he saw the lake. It appeared suddenly, as if it had been waiting for him to notice it. The water was crystal clear, reflecting the magnificent sky above with such clarity that it was hard to tell where the water ended and the heavens began. The lake stretched out before him, its surface occasionally disturbed by ripples that caught the light and scattered it into tiny rainbows.

And there, sitting at the edge of the lake with her feet dangling in the water, was a silver haired girl.

Subaru's breath caught in his throat.

Her silver hair cascaded down her back like a waterfall of moonlight, each strand seeming to glow. The breeze played with those silvery locks, lifting them gently and letting them settle back against her shoulders in a mesmerizing dance. She wore a simple black dress with orange ornmanents that managed to be both modest and alluring, the fabric moving with her small movements as she kicked her feet playfully in the water.

As if sensing his presence, she turned her head, and Subaru felt his heart stop. Her face was beauty personified, delicate features that seemed carved from the finest marble, skin that glowed with an ethereal quality, and those eyes. Those amethyst eyes fixed upon him with warmth and genuine delight, making him feel so much warmth inside his chest. She smiled, and that smile was like the sun breaking through storm clouds, radiant and life-giving.

"Subaru," she said, her voice like music. "You are here." 

He tried to respond, tried to form words, but his mouth wouldn't cooperate. He stood frozen, his heart pounding against his ribs so hard he was sure she could hear it. His throat worked soundlessly, opening and closing like a fish out of water, and all he could do was stare at her with wide eyes and a look he was sure was the most ridiculous he'd ever worn.

Satella's smile widened, a playful glint entering those incredible eyes. "What's wrong?" she asked, tilting her head slightly in a gesture so endearing it felt illegal. "Cat got your tongue? Or maybe you've forgotten how to speak? Should I be worried?" 

The teasing in her voice sent heat rushing through Subaru's body, and he felt his face burning with a blush that likely matched the red flowers around them. "I - you, that's not -" he stammered, each attempt at coherent speech falling apart. "You're just, and I - why are you -" (Poor Subaru broke lmao)

"Oh beloved," Satella laughed, the sound like wind chimes in a gentle breeze. "I don't think I've ever seen you so flustered. It's rather cute, actually." 

"B-beloved? Cute?!" Subaru finally managed to squeak out, his voice cracking. "You can't just, I mean, look at you! How am I supposed to - "

"Yes, yes, what do I look like Subaru?" - Satelle teased him further. Impossibly Subaru felt his cheeks flame even further.

"Come sit with me," finally having mercy on him, she gently interrupted with a teasing smile, patting the ground beside her. "Before you work yourself into a mess."

Somehow, Subaru's legs remembered how to move, carrying him forward until he stood beside her. He lowered himself to the ground with all the grace of a newborn foal, aware of every movement, every breath, every inch of space between them. He settled beside her, close enough to feel the warmth radiating from her presence.

"See?" Satella said softly. "That wasn't so hard, was it?"

"Everything is hard when you're around," Subaru muttered before his brain caught up with his mouth. His eyes widened in horror. "Wait, I didn't mean, that came out wrong, I meant -"

Her laughter cut through his panic, and despite his embarrassment, Subaru found himself smiling, then chuckling, and finally laughing along with her. The tension that had seized him began to dissolve, replaced by a warmth that had nothing to do with the sunlight.

"I missed this," Satella said once their laughter subsided. "I missed you. Your silly reactions, the way you always manage to say the wrong thing at the right time." 

"Well, I'm glad my social awkwardness brings you joy," Subaru replied, some of his usual snark returning as his heart rate approached something resembling normal.

"It does," she confirmed quickly. "Everything about you brings me joy, Subaru." The explosive blush was once again hunting Subaru's cheeks and ears.

While Subaru desperately tried to control his emotions, Satella reached beside her and pulled forward a wooden basket he hadn't noticed before. "I prepared a picnic," she announced proudly. "I hope you're hungry." - It wasn't a question, the stern tone very much implied You better be, I made this for you.

The basket was filled with an array of foods that made Subaru's mouth water just looking at them. Fresh bread that still steamed slightly, its crust golden brown and perfect. Rich-looking cheese. Fresh fruit that gleamed, apples so red they matched the flowers, grapes that were deep purple and perfectly round, strawberries that were impossibly large and fragrant. There were sandwiches carefully wrapped, small cakes that looked professionally made.

"This is amazing," Subaru breathed. "When did you? -"

"Don't think too hard about it," Satella advised, already unwrapping one of the sandwiches and offering it to him. "Just enjoy. That's what this moment is for, isn't it?" 

Subaru took the sandwich, their fingers brushing briefly during the exchange, and that small contact sent electricity racing through his nerves. He bit into the sandwich and nearly groaned, it was perfect, absolutely perfect, with flavors dancing across his tongue in a way he hadn't known food could achieve.

They ate in comfortable silence for a while, passing items back and forth, sharing pieces of fruit and bread.

"Lie back," Satella suggested after they'd eaten their fill. "Gaze at the sky with me."

Subaru did as she asked, stretching out in the soft flowers with his hands behind his head. Satella settled beside him, close enough that their shoulders almost touched. They lay there together, watching clouds drift across that beautiful sky, and Subaru felt a contentment so complete it was almost painful.

"This is nice," he said quietly. "Really nice. I don't remember the last time I felt this...calm."

"That's because you're always running," Satella replied softly. "Always moving, always fighting, always pushing yourself".

"Yeah, well," Subaru said with a slight smile. "Stopping usually means dying, in my experience."

"Not here," she assured him. "Here, you're safe. Here, nothing can hurt you."

Subaru turned to look at her and found she was already looking at him. Their faces were close, close enough that he could see the individual colors in her amethyst eyes, the subtle shades that made them so captivating. Time seemed to slow, the world narrowing to just the two of them.

Slowly, hesitantly, Subaru reached out. His hand found hers, their fingers intertwining naturally, like coming home. Satella's hand was warm in his, her grip gentle but firm, as if she never wanted to let go.

"Is this okay?" he asked, his voice barely above a whisper.

"More than okay," she replied, squeezing his hand. "Everything with you is okay, Subaru. Everything with you is perfect." 

They lay there, hands clasped, watching the sky paint itself in ever-changing light and color. After a while, Satella shifted, moving closer until her head rested on his shoulder. Subaru froze for a moment, uncertain, before slowly relaxing and wrapping his arm around her, holding her against him. She fit perfectly, as if that space had been designed for her.

Her silver hair spilled across his chest, soft as silk, and he could feel the gentle rise and fall of her breathing. He turned his face slightly, breathing in her scent - floral and sweet like strawberries.

"Subaru," she murmured against him. "Can I tell you something?"

"Anything," he replied, his free hand gently stroking her hair, the silvery strands sliding between his fingers like liquid moonlight.

"I think about you all the time," she confessed. "Every moment, every second. You're always with me, even when you're not. Especially when you're not."

Subaru's chest tightened. "I think about you too," he admitted. "More than I probably should".

"There's no such thing as thinking about someone you love too much," Satella said, tilting her head up to look at him. Their faces were inches apart, and Subaru could feel her breath on his skin.

They stayed like that, gazing at each other, the tension building between them like a physical force. Subaru's hand moved from her hair to her cheek, cupping her face gently, his thumb tracing the line of her cheekbone. Her skin was impossibly soft, warm, alive beneath his touch.

Satella leaned into his palm, her eyes fluttering closed for a moment as if savoring the contact. When she opened them again, there was such depth of emotion in those amethyst depths that Subaru felt like he was drowning, willingly and gladly.

"Subaru," she breathed.

They stayed locked in that moment where nothing else existed but the two of them, the red flowers, the perfect sky, and the feeling of complete and utter rightness that filled every corner of Subaru's being. This was better than anything he'd ever experienced in his entire life. This was better than half-hearted look Emilia could give her, better than any love declaration Rem could offer him. The warmth of her against him, the softness of her hair, the gentle pressure of her body pressed to his - "I don't want this to end," he whispered, his voice cracking slightly. "I don't ever want to leave this place."

"Then don't," Satella suggested, her tone still soft, "Stay here. Stay with me. Forever."

"If only it were that simple," Subaru said with a sad smile. "If only anything were that simple."

Satella pulled back slightly, just enough to look at him properly, and there was something in her expression now, that made unease begin to coil in Subaru's stomach. Her smile remained, but it had changed somehow, not quite reaching her eyes anymore.

"Subaru," she said, her voice still gentle but carrying an edge now, like silk wrapped around a blade. "Why did you leave me?"

The question hit him like a physical blow. "What? I didn't? I'm right here."

"Why did you leave me to rot by myself for four hundred years?"

The words were soft, but there was an edge of madness and fury behind them. Subaru's blood ran cold, panic beginning to claw its way up his throat. The perfect contentment he'd felt moments before was crumbling.

"I don't understand," he managed, his voice strangled. "What are you talking about? Four hundred years? I haven't -"

"Alone," Satella continued, her eyes still fixed on him but somehow looking through him now. "All alone in the darkness, waiting, hoping, believing you'd come back. That you'd save me. That you'd remember."

"Satella, please, I don't - " Subaru tried to sit up, tried to move, but his body wouldn't respond. It was as if he'd been paralyzed, frozen in place by some invisible force.

Then her expression softened, that gentle smile returning, and somehow that was worse than any anger she could have showed him. "It's alright though," she said, reaching out to touch his face with fingers that felt too cold now, too wrong. "I love you. I will love you always, no matter what."

"Satella -"

"And you can always keep trying, can't you? Next time, right?" Her head tilted at an angle that was slightly too far to be natural. "Next time you'll get it right. Next time you'll save everyone. Isn't that what you do? Isn't that what you are?"

Something was very, very wrong. The sky was darkening at the edges, the perfect blue bleeding into shades of purple and black. The flowers around them were wilting, their petals turning brown and falling away.

"Try next time, Hero," Satella said, and her voice was completely different now - fractured, mad, layered with a thousand screaming echoes that seemed to come from everywhere and nowhere at once.

As the word left her lips, her head simply fell off, bouncing once on the ground before rolling to a stop beside him. Her amethyst eyes, wide and staring, gazed at nothing, reflecting an emptiness that was absolute. Her face was frozen in that gentle smile.

Subaru screamed.

The sound that tore from his throat was primal, raw, an expression of pure terror that seemed to shake the very air around him. He scrambled backward, his paralysis broken by sheer panic, his hands digging into the ground as he tried to get away from the body - from the thing that had been Satella.

That's when the flowers moved.

All around him, the red flowers that had seemed so beautiful, so welcoming, began to shift and bulge. The ground heaved, massive shapes pushing up from beneath the earth. Subaru watched in mounting horror as what he'd thought were flowers revealed themselves to be something else entirely - fur, black and matted, covered in those red blossoms that were attached like parasitic growths.

The Courtesan Bears erupted from the field.

They were massive, two to three meters of twisted, rotting flesh, their bodies shambling forward on short, stunted legs that seemed barely able to support their bulk. Their arms, in contrast, were grotesquely long, dragging across the ground with each lurching step, tipped with curved claws that looked more like scythes than anything natural. The flowers covering their bodies pulsed and writhed, their petals opening and closing like hungry mouths.

But it was their faces that truly crystallized Subaru's terror. They were mummified, skin stretched tight over bone, lips pulled back to reveal yellowed teeth that were far too long, far too sharp. Empty eye sockets stared at him with a hunger that was palpable, and the withered flesh of their faces cracked and flaked with each movement.

The closest bear lunged with a speed that seemed impossible for something so large and malformed. Subaru tried to run, tried to escape, but his legs tangled in the dying flowers and he went down hard. Before he could even process the fall, massive paws crashed down on either side of him, trapping him, and that mummified face lowered toward his with a sound between a growl and a death rattle.

"No, no, no, please - " Subaru babbled, but his pleas were cut short as teeth sank into his shoulder.

The pain was indescribable. Those too-long teeth punched through flesh and muscle, grinding against bone as the creature's jaws clamped down with hydraulic force. Subaru felt his shoulder joint pop and dislocate, felt tendons tear like wet paper, felt blood gush hot and thick down his arm and chest. He screamed again, a sound that dissolved into a gurgling shriek as the bear yanked its head back, ripping away a chunk of his shoulder in a spray of crimson.

There was no respite, no moment to process the agony. Another bear was on him, its claws hooking into his leg. The curved talons punched through his thigh like it was tissue paper, sinking deep until they scraped against femur. The bear pulled, and Subaru felt his leg come apart, muscles separating from bone, skin tearing in jagged lines that burned like liquid fire.

"HELP!" he screamed into the empty sky, the word emerging as a wet, broken thing. "SOMEONE, PLEASE—"

A third bear's claws found his stomach. They hooked and tore, opening his abdomen in a ragged line that spilled his insides onto the dying flowers beneath him. Subaru looked down in shock and horror as his own intestines tumbled out, steaming in the suddenly cold air, glistening and pink. Your intestines have such a beautiful color to them - Elsa's voice permiated around the crimson garden.

The bears descended in a frenzy, and Subaru was helpless to stop them. Teeth found his other arm, clamping down on his bicep and twisting, tearing, until the arm came free in a wet sucking sound. He could only watch, consciousness fading in and out, as his own limb was devoured, bone crunching between massive jaws.

One of the creatures' claws hooked into his ribcage, the curved talon sliding between his ribs like a metal fork scrapping on a plate - plate that were his bones. The bear pulled, and Subaru felt his ribs separate from his sternum, felt his chest cavity open like a grotesque flower. Air that shouldn't reach his lungs directly rushed in, cold and burning all at once.

"Please," he whimpered, the word bubbling through blood that was filling his mouth, drowning him from within. "Please, I don't want to..."

A massive paw pressed down on his head, claws piercing his scalp, and Subaru felt the pressure building, building, building as the bear applied more force. His skull creaked, and he knew - knew with absolute certainty - what was about to happen. He tried to close his eyes, tried to retreat somewhere inside himself where the horror couldn't reach, but there was nowhere to go, nowhere to hide from the reality of his own body being torn apart piece by piece.

The last thing Subaru registered before his skull gave way was the sensation of teeth finding his exposed throat, and the wet tearing sound as—

He woke up screaming in white expanse covered by moss.

Chapter Text

Subaru's scream tore through the silence of the Green Room like a knife through silk, echoing off walls that seemed to absorb the sound even as they amplified it. His body convulsed upward, hands clawing at his throat, his stomach, his shoulder, searching for wounds that weren't there, for pain that had been real only moments ago. His fingers dug into his skin with desperate intensity, scratching, searching, needing to confirm that he was whole, that he was intact, that his intestines weren't spilling onto red flowers that had turned out to be the fur of nightmares.

"No, no, no -" The words tumbled from his lips in a broken litany, barely coherent through the hyperventilation that seized his chest. His vision swam with afterimages of mummified faces and long yellowed teeth, of amethyst eyes going dark and empty, of a head rolling across crimson flowers while that gentle smile remained frozen in place.

"Master! Master, it's okay! You're safe!"

A voice cut through the panic - feminine, concerned and unfamiliar. Subaru's eyes snapped toward the source, wild and unfocused, still half-trapped in the nightmare that had felt more real than any dream had the right to be. He could still taste copper in his mouth, could still feel the ghost of teeth punching through muscle and bone.

Warm hands grasped his wrists, firm but gentle, stopping his frantic scratching before he could draw blood. The touch anchored him, pulled him back from the edge of hysteria with surprising effectiveness. Subaru blinked rapidly, his racing thoughts beginning to slow as his surroundings came into focus.

The room around him glowed with a soft green luminescence. Moss covered every surface - the walls, the floor, even parts of the ceiling -all of it emanating a soothing light that seemed to pulse with life itself. The air tasted fresh and clean, carrying a subtle fragrance of earth and growing things that was nothing like the cloying sweetness of those red flowers. The temperature felt perfect, neither too warm nor too cool, and the moss beneath him provided a surprisingly comfortable cushion.

"There we go, that's it. Just breathe, Master. In and out.", The voice continued its gentle guidance, and Subaru finally managed to focus on its owner.

The woman kneeling beside him was striking in a way that made his still-addled brain stumble. She was tall, he could tell even with her kneeling, with a physique that belonged on a runway model. Her long blackish-brown hair was tied in an unusual style behind her that somehow reminded him of a scorpion's tail, and her green eyes regarded him with genuine concern. But what really caught his attention were the three additional red dots around each of her pupils, giving her an otherworldly appearance.

Her outfit, however, was something else entirely. A black bikini-bra, a necklace, black hotpants with an orange belt, and a tattered black-and-orange cloak that... wait. Those colors. Subaru looked down at his own outfit, noting the same color scheme, and his confusion deepened.

"Easy there, easy," she said again, her grip on his wrists loosening as his breathing steadied. "You had quite the nightmare, huh? Your hands are all scratched up. Good thing you're in the Green Room - the Spirit here will patch you right up."

Subaru followed her gaze to his hands and winced. He'd managed to rake his nails across his skin hard enough to leave angry red welts that were already starting to fade, the luminous moss beneath them seeming to pulse with increased intensity. As he watched, the scratches began to heal, the damaged skin knitting back together with a speed that would have been alarming if he wasn't already used to magical healing.

"Who..." Subaru's voice came out hoarse, and he had to clear his throat before trying again. "Who are you?"

The woman's expression shifted through several emotions in rapid succession - surprise, confusion, hurt, and then settling on something between exasperation and amusement. She released his wrists and sat back on her heels, one hand coming up to rest on her hip.

"Master, that's not funny. I know you like to joke around, but pretending you don't know me is a bit much, don't you think?" Her tone carried a playful reprimand,  "Did you hit your head on something? Again?"

"Again?" Subaru repeated, bewildered. The panic from his nightmare was fading now, replaced by a different kind of confusion. "I'm sorry, but I really don't know who you are. Did you save me? Thank you, seriously, but - "

"Oh wow, you're reaaaaally committed to this Master." She leaned forward, her face coming uncomfortably close to his as those unusual eyes studied him intently. "Or wait, did you actually hit your head? Is this amnesia? Master, you can't still be bashing your skull on toilet seats and forgetting things".

"Eh?" Subaru's voice cracked. "What are you talking about? And what's this about toilet seats? And why do you keep calling me Master?"

The woman pulled back, her expression cycling through confusion again before settling on something that looked almost offended. "Master, this isn't funny anymore. If you're trying to prank me, it's not working. I'm Shaula! The one you left here to guard the tower?"

Immediately memories rushed in through Subaru's head like a hurricane. His desperate desire to go back home, hours of going through libraries seeking knowledge of how to reach the Pleiades watchtower, his fight with archbishop of Gluttony, days in miasma ridden desert, the earthworms, the bears, his desperate gambit and last cry out for Shaula".

Before Subaru could say anything, Shaula jumped on him, "Master, you know you don't have to do the whole mysterious identity thing with me, right? How can master not remember his one and only and his favorite apprentice?"

"Shaula," Subaru said carefully, trying to keep his voice calm and reasonable despite the growing surreality of the situation. "I think there's been some kind of misunderstanding. I'm not whoever you think I am. I definitely haven't had time to take on any apprentices."

"Master, you're hilarious! Is this a new form of training? Are you testing my loyalty by pretending to be someone else? Because if so, I have to tell you, it's not going to work. I'd know you anywhere."

"But you just said I might have hit my head and gotten amnesia," Subaru pointed out, grasping for any thread of logic in this increasingly bizarre exchange.

"Well yeah, but that's different from you claiming to be a completely different person!" Shaula's hands moved expressively as she spoke, gesturing in a way that suggested this should be obvious. "Amnesia means you forgot me. This whole claim that you were never my Master to begin with, is clearly ridiculous because I can smell you."

Subaru blinked. "You can... smell me?"

"Yep!" Shaula leaned in again, this time close enough that Subaru instinctively leaned back, his shoulders pressing against the moss-covered wall. She took an exaggerated sniff, her nose nearly touching his collar. "That's definitely Master's scent. That distinct, unique, utterly putrid smell that only you have. Like old socks marinated in month old milk. Very distinctive!"

"Did you just call me putrid?!" Subaru's offense was genuine, even as a small, hysterical part of his brain noted the absurdity of being more insulted by the smell comment than by the continued case of mistaken identity. "And old socks?! I refuse to believe that."

"Oh, don't take it personally, Master!" Shaula said cheerfully, finally pulling back to give him some breathing room. "It's not a bad smell. It's just... you. I'd recognize it anywhere, even after all this time. Scent doesn't lie, not like faces or names."

"Once again I am not your master!" Subaru protested, his voice rising. "I am not! Thank you for saving me, really, but this is the first time I am seeing you. And I'm sorry about the smell, I guess, but that doesn't make me this 'Master' person you're talking about!"

Shaula's expression softened, losing some of its playful edge. Before Subaru could react, she reached out and took his hand in both of hers, holding it with a gentleness that contrasted sharply with her earlier enthusiasm. Her skin was warm, and the gesture carried a weight of familiarity that made Subaru's protests die in his throat.

"Master," she said quietly, and there was something vulnerable in her voice now, "I know I can't remember faces very well. But I've been waiting here for four hundred years, and the one thing I can absolutely, positively, one hundred percent guarantee is that I know my Master's scent. And you have it. Maybe you hit your head really hard this time. Maybe something else happened. But you're my Master, and I'm not letting you go until you remember."

The sincerity in her words, the way her hands gripped his with a desperation she was trying to hide behind humor, made Subaru's heart ache. This woman genuinely believed what she was saying. She wasn't trying to trick him or manipulate him.

"I'm sorry," Subaru said softly, not pulling his hand away despite the strangeness of the situation. "I'm really, truly sorry. But I'm not who you think I am. And uuh, you mentioned that you are my apprentice. If this is true, then you should my name, right?"

Shaula's eyes lit up. "Of course I know your name. There is only one master and that master is Great Sage Flugel!"

Wait, Flugel, the tree guy? Or this someone else she is talking about?

"Well, you are certainly mistaken. My name is definitely not Flugel. To be frank with you, I'm just some guy who got pulled into this world against his will and has been stumbling from one disaster to another ever since. My purpose for coming here was to learn how to go back home actually". But looking at you and this situation, that hope might as well be dead and buried.

"Pulled into this world?" Shaula's head tilted again, and Subaru was starting to recognize it as her thinking expression. "You mean like being summoned? Master, you told me about that. About coming from another world where - "

"Wait, Flugel was from another world?" The information hit Subaru like a physical blow. He'd known there had been another person from Japan here - Hoshin of the Wastes as Anastasia called him, but Flugel too? How many people had been summoned to this insane world?

"See! You didn't know that before I mentioned it, which means you reaaaaally have forgotten!" Shaula's grip on his hand tightened, her other hand coming up to grab his wrist as if afraid he might try to escape. "This is serious, Master. We need to figure out what happened to your memories. Did you get cursed? Attacked? Did you finally hit your head hard enough to knock something loose permanently?"

"I didn't hit my head!" Subaru protested, then paused. "Well, I mean, I've hit my head plenty of times, but not recently! And definitely not hard enough to make me forget four hundred years that I never lived!"

"Master?" Shaula's voice pulled him back from his spiraling thoughts. "You're making that face again. The one you used to make when you were thinking really hard about something stupid".

"I'm not making any face," Subaru muttered, but he could feel the tension in his expression, the way his brows had drawn together. He forced himself to relax, looking back at Shaula. Her hands still held his, warm and solid and quite strong in its grip. "Look, Shaula, I appreciate your concern, really. And I'm grateful that you... saved me? Healed me? Whatever happened to get me into this room. But I need you to understand that I'm not Flugel. I don't have centuries of memories locked away somewhere".

"But the smell - "

"I know, I know, the putrid smell," Subaru interrupted, unable to keep a note of amusement from creeping into his voice despite everything. "I'm still offended by that, by the way. But maybe Flugel and I use the same soap? Or maybe everyone from Japan smells the same to you?"

"Japan?" Shaula's eyes widened. "Master, you never told me the name of your homeland! Is that what it was called? Japan?"

Subaru winced, realizing he'd just provided more ammunition for her case of mistaken identity. "Yes, but that doesn't mean I'm Flugel. It just means we came from the same place originally. There have been others. It's not impossible that multiple people from Japan ended up here."

"But none of them smelled like you," Shaula said stubbornly, her grip on his hand remaining firm. "I've seen a lot of people, Master. Lots of them. Of course, I don't remember them - people trying to reach the watchtower, people exploring the desert, people who got lost in the sand. None of them smelled this bad. Only you."  (Poor Subaru 😭)

The conviction in her voice made arguing feel futile. Subaru sighed, looking down at their joined hands. "Okay," Subaru said slowly, trying a different approach. "Let's say, hypothetically, that I am Flugel suffering from extreme amnesia. What exactly did this Flugel person ask you to do? What are you supposed to be guarding?"

Shaula's face brightened immediately, clearly taking his question as acceptance of her theory. "Master told me to stay at the  Watchtower and keep watch! Anyone who tries to approach without Master's permission, I'm supposed to eliminate them with my Hell's Snipe. I am really good at it, too! My accuracy is perfect, and I can take out targets from incredible distances. It's actually gotten a bit boring over the years because most people don't make it very far before - "

"You kill them?" Subaru interrupted, alarmed. "You kill anyone who approaches?"

"Of course," Shaula said matter-of-factly. "Unless they're Master, obviously. That's the whole point of guarding the place. To keep people away from the stupid shrine. You were very clear about that. No one can be allowed to reach the shrine."

The shrine, of course. I completely forgot about that. I was so focused on coming here for knowledge that I forgot the actual purpose of this place.

The casual way she discussed murder made Subaru's stomach turn, but he forced himself to push past it. This world had different rules, different standards. He'd learned that the hard way. "And you've been doing this for four hundred years? Just... waiting and killing anyone who gets too close?"

"Yep!" Shaula's cheerfulness seemed inappropriate given the topic. "It's what you asked me to do, Master. And I always follow your orders. Even when you're gone for four centuries without so much as a letter or a visit or even a quick 'hey Shaula, thanks for doing that thing I asked, sorry I forgot about you for longer than most civilizations exist.'"

Subaru felt another pang of sympathy for this strange woman who had apparently spent an incomprehensible amount of time alone, waiting for someone who had never returned.

"That sounds... incredibly lonely," Subaru said softly.

Shaula's expression flickered, vulnerability showing through before she covered it with a smile. "It's fine! I had witchbeasts to hunt and people to shoot and the tower to maintain. And I knew Master would come back eventually. I never doubted it. Not once. Not even after the first hundred years. Or the second. Or the - okay, maybe I had some doubts around year three-fifty, but they were very brief doubts! Barely worth mentioning!"

"Shaula..."

"And now you're here!" She continued, her voice picking up speed as if trying to outrun her own emotions. "Sure, you've forgotten me and everything about who you are, and you smell somehow even worse than before, but you're here Master! That's what matters! And I'm not letting you leave again, not until we fix whatever's wrong with your memory and you remember why you left me here in the first place!"

The outburst left her slightly breathless, her chest heaving and her eyes suspiciously bright. Subaru stared at her, his mind trying to process the sheer weight of emotion behind those words. Four hundred years. Four hundred years of waiting, of loneliness, of clinging to orders given by someone who never came back. It was beyond comprehension, beyond anything he could truly understand.

And yet, looking at Shaula's face, at the desperate hope barely concealed behind her cheerful facade, Subaru felt his resolve to correct her wavering. What harm would it do to play along, at least for a little while? If it gave her some comfort after centuries of isolation, if it made her feel less alone...

No. No, that was the wrong approach. Lying to her, even with good intentions, would only make things worse when the truth inevitably came out. She deserved honesty, even if that honesty hurt.

"Shaula," Subaru began carefully, "I understand that you've been waiting a long time for Flugel to return. And I'm sorry, truly, deeply sorry, that he hasn't. But lying to you about who I am wouldn't be fair to either of us. I'm not Flugel. I wish I could be the person you're waiting for, but I can't -"

"The smell doesn't lie," Shaula interrupted, her voice firm. Her hands squeezed his with renewed intensity. "I told you, Master. I might not be good with faces or names, but I know my Master's scent. And you have it".

"And what did your master look like?" Subaru questioned dubiously.

"Well, Master looks like master, of course. He has a head, mouth, face, eyes, nose and ears".

"Does he know? Color me surprised" - What kind of answer did I expect from this incorrigble girl?

Subaru was starting to understand that arguing this point was futile. Shaula believed what she believed with the absolute conviction of someone who had nothing else to hold onto.

"It's not subjective!" Shaula protested. "Smell is very objective! It's just molecules entering your nose and triggering specific responses. Science! Master, you taught me that! Well, you tried to teach me that. I didn't really understand the lecture, but I memorized the words. See? I am very smart, hehe."

Despite everything, the confusion, the lingering terror from his nightmare, the surreal nature of this entire conversation, Subaru found himself smiling. There was something endearing about Shaula's earnest certainty, her willingness to cling to hope despite all evidence suggesting she might be wrong.

"Alright," he said, making a decision. "How about this: I'm not going to claim to be Flugel, because I honestly don't remember being him. But I won't keep arguing about the smell thing, either. We can just agree to disagree. Is that acceptable?"

Shaula's face scrunched up as she considered this. "I guess that's better than you trying to leave while insisting you're someone else. But Master, we really do need to figure out what happened to your memories. What if it's something dangerous? What if there's a curse affecting you?"

"If there is, I'm sure it'll reveal itself eventually," Subaru said dryly. "That's how my life tends to work. But speaking of which -" He gestured around the green-lit room with his free hand, the other still trapped in Shaula's grip. "What is this place? You called it the Green Room?"

"Oh, right!" Shaula's mood brightened again, the shift in topic seeming to help her recalibrate. "This is one of the special rooms in Alcyone - that's the fourth floor of the tower. The Green Room has a Spirit that provides healing to anyone inside it. That's why your scratches are all better now! The Spirit is suuuuuper helpful, even if it's a bit shy. I've never actually seen it, but I can feel its presence."

Subaru looked around with new appreciation. The pulsing green moss, the comfortable temperature, the fresh air - all of it was the work of a Spirit? "That's... actually really impressive. How long was I in here?"

"Oh, not long at all! Maybe a day?" Shaula tilted her head, considering. "I found you outside the tower, passed out in the sand. "It made my heart reaaaally excited. I did not know it was you at first master and I thought about just killing you, but then I got close enough to smell you and realized you were Master, so obviously I had to bring you inside!" Then Shaula started giggling uncontrollably.

Subaru could only look at her in confusion, desperately ignoring the I thought about just killing you part - "Why are you laughing?"

"Well, master was in big trouble and you were screaming for me for help. It made my heart so happy, hehe".

Subaru clearly remembering his desperate shout ontop of the earthworm, could not help but blush intensly. Still, this whole situation was troubling him greately. Shaula clearly was useless at least in helping him to find a way home. So...what was all this trouble for? Why did he die so many times if this was the result? What did the sacrifice of Mirula mean if Subaru did not even reach his true goal here?

"Master?" Shaula's voice carried concern again. "You're making a face again. The depressed one this time."

"It's nothing," Subaru said quickly, pushing the thoughts away. Dwelling on these thoughts wouldn't help anything. "Just trying to remember how I got hear", lied Subaru without hesitation.

"Memory loss is definitely a symptom of severe dehydration," Shaula said in her professor voice . "Or is it? I might be making that up. Master, you should probably drink some water. There's a well in the dining hall if you're thirsty."

The mention of water made Subaru realize his mouth was, in fact, incredibly dry. "That... would be great, actually. Thank you."

"Of course!" Shaula beamed at him, but notably, she didn't let go of his hand. "Come on, I'll take you there!"

She pulled him to his feet with surprising strength, and Subaru stumbled slightly as his legs remembered how to work. The moss beneath his feet felt springy and alive, cushioning each step. Shaula kept her grip on his hand as she led him toward the door, her fingers interlaced with his in a way that felt far too familiar for someone he'd just met.

"Shaula," Subaru said as they walked, "you can let go of my hand now. I'm not going to collapse or anything."

"Nope!" Shaula said cheerfully. "Not taking that risk! Master might hit his head on something else or suddenly remember that he is supposed to be somewhere else. This way I can keep you safe and make sure you don't do anything reckless, master. It's what a good apprentice does!"

"I'm pretty sure apprentices don't usually hold their masters' hands like this," Subaru pointed out, but he didn't actually try to pull away, not like he could with Shaula's insane strenght.

"Well, maybe that's why all those other master-apprentice relationships fail," Shaula said matter-of-factly. "Not enough hand-holding. I'm revolutionizing the teaching methodology!"

Subaru laughed. It was a short, surprised sound that caught him off guard. "You're completely ridiculous, you know that?"

"Absolute slander, Shaula will sue master in court!" Shaula grinned back at him, her cheerfullnes was infective and it made the weight on Subaru's chest feel just a little lighter.

They exited the Green Room and immediately Polaris sprang up in front of him. Subaru greened at his spirit, who was excitedely circling him throwing feelings of love and adoration through his bond. Shaula seemed to sense and pouted at him. Subaru's grin only widened at her reaction.

They went into a larger space that must have been the rest of Alcyone. The architecture was impressive - high ceilings, stone walls covered in intricate carvings, magical lamps providing warm illumination. Subaru tried to take it all in, but Shaula was pulling him along with single-minded determination toward what she'd called the dining hall.

As they walked, Subaru's mind churned with questions. The Pleiades Watchtower and Flugel the Sage who had possibly also come from Japan. And now this strange, earnest woman who was convinced he was her long-lost master based purely on how he smelled.

The absurdity of it all should have been overwhelming, but after everything Subaru had experienced since arriving in this world, the deaths, the suffering, the impossible loops through time, he had gotten used to bizarre events surrounding his life. At least Shaula's delusion came from a place of genuine feeling rather than malice.

"Here we are!" Shaula announced, pulling him into a spacious room that did indeed contain a well in its center, along with a long table and several chairs. "Master can drink as much as he wants! The water here is suuuuuper clean and fresh".

She finally released his hand to fetch a bucket and rope, and Subaru immediately felt the absence of her warmth. He flexed his fingers, surprised to find he'd almost gotten used to the contact. Shaula worked efficiently, lowering the bucket into the well and hauling it back up with ease that spoke of long practice.

"Here!" She poured water into a clay cup and held it out to him. "Drink slowly, though. If you chug it after being dehydrated, you might throw up, and that would be gross."

"Thanks for the vote of confidence," Subaru said dryly, but he took the cup and sipped carefully. The water was indeed clean and cold, refreshing in a way that made him realize just how thirsty he'd been. He drank slowly, mindful of Shaula's warning, and felt the liquid settle in his stomach with relief.

Shaula watched him with intensity, her green eyes tracking his every movement. When he finished the cup, she immediately refilled it without being asked, pressing it back into his hands.

"More," she insisted. "Master needs to drink properly. I won't have you passing out on me again."

"Yes, mother," Subaru said with a slight smile, accepting the second cup. As he drank, he studied Shaula over the rim. Now that the immediate crisis had passed, he could see the telltale signs of long isolation in her behavior - the way she hovered close, reluctant to leave his personal space; the desperation behind her cheerfulness; the intensity with which she focused on him as if afraid he might disappear if she blinked.

Four hundred years. The number kept circling back in his mind. What would that do to a person? How would anyone maintain their sanity through that kind of loneliness?

"Shaula," Subaru said quietly, setting down the empty cup. "What have you been doing here? For all this time?"

"My job!" Shaula said immediately. "Guarding the tower, keeping watch for intruders, maintaining the defenses. It's what Master asked me to do."

"But that's not... I mean, what do you do for yourself? For fun? To pass the time?"

Shaula's expression went blank for a moment, as if the question had never occurred to her. "I... hunt witchbeasts sometimes? That's kind of fun. And I practice my Hell's Snipe to keep my skills sharp".

The matter-of-fact way she described a life devoid of any real joy made Subaru's heart ache. "That sounds incredibly depressing."

"It's fine!" Shaula said brightly, but the brittleness in her tone gave her away. "I knew what I was signing up for when Master gave me this duty. I'm honored to serve. And besides, now Master is back, so everything will be better!"

"Shaula, I am sorry but I cannot stay here."

"W-what? B-but master just came back and he is already leaving? Y-you can't do that!! Stop being a meanie master".

Subaru raised his eyebrows, a sense of pity settling inside him for the scropion-braided girl. "I am really sorry Shaula, staying here would only further delay my goal of going back home".

"Hmph, no can do master. The watchtower has rules you know? The rules master created himself".

"Uuh, what rules are you talking about Shaula?"

Shaula, inhaled sharply, turning her face back to him, one hand poised in the air, like an instructor about to give a lecture and with serious voice listed out all the rules of the watchtower: It is forbidden to leave the tower without completing the trials. It is forbidden to violate the rules of the trials. It is forbidden to disrespect the library. It is forbidden to damage the tower".

Trials? Library? Not allowed to leave? What the hell?

"Oh, this reminds me" Shaula interrupted the question forming on Subaru's mouth. "We need to talk about the trials! Since you're here master, that means you're probably here to finally complete them, right? That would make sense. Maybe that's why you came back after all this time!"

"Trials?" Subaru latched onto the topic change, "What kind of trials?"

"The tower's trials!" Shaula explained enthusiastically. "There are three main floors that have trials: Taygeta, Electra, and Maia. You have to complete each one in order to access the upper floors of the tower. It's all very clever and complicated, which is totally Master's style!"

Subaru's interest piqued despite himself. "And what happens if someone completes all the trials?"

"I don't know!" Shaula admitted cheerfully. "No one's ever done it before. People die to my Hell's Snipe before they even reach the tower. And don't even think about leaving the tower before you complete them master. That would mean I would have to kill you, and I reaaally don't want to do that master. But now that Master is here, you'll definitely be able to complete them, so you should not have to worry about that."

Subaru felt chill running down his spine -"So I'm trapped here," Subaru said flatly.

"Trapped is such a negative word!" Shaula protested. "You're more like... enthusiastically encouraged to stay until you complete the challenges Master designed! It's tooootally different!"

"That's literally the definition of trapped."

"Is it though?" Shaula tilted her head, her professor-voice activating again as she genuinely seemed to consider this point. "I mean, if you're trapped somewhere, that means that you don't want to be there. But Master came here for a reason, right? To complete the trials and access whatever's at the top of the tower?"

Subaru pinched the bridge of his nose, feeling a headache building behind his eyes. "Shaula, with all due respect, that's the most twisted logic I've ever heard."

"Master says that like it's a bad thing!" Shaula replied with cheerful energy. "Besides, is it really so terrible? You get to spend time with me! I'm fun! I'm great company! I've had four hundred years to think of interesting conversation topics!"

"Four hundred years of conversation topics," Subaru repeated weakly. "That sounds both impressive and terrifying."

"Right?!" Shaula's enthusiasm was palpable. "I can tell you all about the different types of witchbeasts in the area, or the various ways sand moves during different types of storms, or my top one hundred memorable Hell's Snipe kills! Number thirty-seven is particularly interesting because the witchbeast.."

"Maybe we can save that for later," Subaru interrupted quickly. The last thing he needed right now was a detailed breakdown of Shaula's greatest hits in murdering things. "For now, I should probably focus on these trials. You said the first one is on Taygeta?"

"Yes!" Shaula nodded eagerly. "It's the floor above this one. Well, technically above and to the side, because of how the staircases work".

"And what do I get for completing this trial? What is it even about?" Subaru asked.

"Hmm, master needs to see the trials to know what they are about. Shaula will not spoil his fun!"

"This is insane," Subaru muttered. "I can't do any of this. I'm not Flugel. I'm not the Sage. I'm just-"

"Master." Shaula's voice cut through his spiral, firm and unyielding. She stepped closer, her hands coming up to grip his shoulders. Those green eyes with their red dots stared into his with an intensity that made him fall silent. "Even if you don't remember who you are, I know you can do this".

"H-how can you be so sure about this?"

Shaula visibly brightened - "Because master is master and master can do anything!" - She said this with utmost confidence and trust that was practically blinding Subaru.

"But what if I fail?" Subaru still asked quietly. "What if I try the trials and I can't complete them? What then?"

"Then you try again," Shaula said simply. "And again. And again. Until you succeed. That's what Master always did. You never gave up, no matter how many times you failed. You just kept trying until you found the answer."

The words hit closer to home than Shaula could possibly know. Return by Death had taught Subaru the same brutal lesson over and over again: keep trying, keep dying, keep coming back until you find the one path that works. The idea that Flugel might have operated under a similar philosophy made Subaru wonder if there was more to Shaula's insistence about their connection than simple delusion.

"Besides," Shaula continued, her tone lightening as she released his shoulders, "the first trial isn't that hard! I believe in Master! You'll definitely be able to solve it! Probably! Maybe! I have a good feeling about it!"

"Your confidence is underwhelming," Subaru said dryly.

"I'm being realistic!" Shaula protested. "The trial is tricky, but it's not impossible. You just have to think about it the right way. And Master is great at thinking about things the right way! When you're not hitting your head on toilets and forgetting everything, anyway."

"Can we please stop bringing up the toilet thing?" Subaru rubbed his face with both hands. "I'm never going to live that down, am I?"

"Nope!" Shaula said cheerfully, and despite everything, Subaru found himself smiling again.

Shaula's relentless optimism, her refusal to let him wallow in self-doubt greatly reminded him of other people he'd met in this world. Rem, with her unwavering faith in him. Otto, with his exasperated loyalty. Emilia, with complete trust and belief in her eyes. Beako, who would have followed any of his suicidal plan with "Betty's contractor is hopeless, I suppose, but Betty will help him, in fact".

The thought of them made Subaru sick. Where were they now? Did they feel any abscence of him? Even after what they had done to him, Subaru could not help but worry. He knew chances of returning to them would be slim-to-none with Roy still around, and even then, he wasn't sure he ever could properly face him, laugh and joke with them like nothing happened, like his torture and torment was just a long-forgotten nightmare.

"Master?" Shaula's voice pulled him back. "Are you okay? Do you need more water? Or food? I have witchbeast meat! It tastes terrible, but it's very nutritious!"

"I'm fine," Subaru assured her, pushing aside his troubled thoughts. "Just thinking. You said I can't leave until I complete the trials, right?"

"Right!" Shaula nodded.

"Then I guess I don't have much choice." Subaru straightened his shoulders, trying to summon some semblance of determination. "If I'm stuck here anyway, I might as well try to complete them".

"Yes!" Shaula's face lit up like Subaru had just told her she'd won the lottery. "Master is going to try the trials! This is so exciting! Come on, let's go to Taygeta right now! Unless Master wants to rest more? Or eat? I really do have witchbeast meat if-"

"I'm good on the witchbeast meat, thanks," Subaru said quickly. "But actually, before we go to Taygeta, I have a question."

"Yes, Master?"

"You mentioned different floors of the tower. Alcyone, Taygeta. Are there others?" Subaru already suspected from the watchtower's name and the floor names that Shaula gave him, which other floors there would be and what names they would have, but he still wanted the confirmation.

"Oh yes!" Shaula nodded. "There's Celaeno, which is the ground floor where the entrance is. And Asterope, which is the basement. There's also Electra and Maia". She paused, her expression shifting to something more guarded.

"And where's Merope?" asked Subaru

Shaula's eyes darted away from his, her fingers tightening around his hand. "I don't know what Master means. I listed all the floors."

"Shaula," Subaru said gently. "You're a terrible liar. What are you hiding?"

For a moment, Shaula looked like she might deny it again. Then her shoulders slumped slightly, her usual cheerfulness cracking. "It's on Floor Zero. But Master, you're not supposed to ask about that. I'm not supposed to talk about it."

"Why not?"

"Because..." Shaula bit her lip, looking genuinely conflicted. "Because it was built after you left. And I'm not supposed to tell anyone about it. Besides it is pointless for you to worry about. You only have three of them yet".

Subaru's interest sharpened. A floor built after Flugel left, by someone other than the Sage? That was potentially important information. "Who built it? And what do you mean I only have three of them?"

"I am sorry but I cannot say more Master. For now, let's focus on Taygeta! That's exciting enough!"

Subaru nodded, filing the information about Merope away for later consideration. He still wanted to argue but knew that Shaula would not say anything to him. He added this another mystery to the growing pile of secrets. This tower, like everything else in this world, seemed determined to be as complicated and dangerous as possible.

"Alright," he said. "Lead the way to Taygeta. Let's see what this trial is all about."

Shaula's face split into a grin that was almost blinding in its intensity. She practically dragged him out of the dining hall, her excitement palpable. Subaru stumbled after her, his hand still clasped in hers, and tried to prepare himself mentally for whatever awaited him on Taygeta.

They reached the top of the staircase, and Shaula pushed open a door to reveal a room that made Subaru stop in his tracks. It was completely white - walls, floor, ceiling, everything. The space was circular and expansive, easily thirty meters in diameter. And in the center of the room stood floated a single, what could only be described as black monolith, a pillar of stone about two meters tall that seemed to glow with a faint inner light.

"This is Taygeta," Shaula announced, her voice echoing slightly in the empty space. 

Subaru approached the monolith in front of him, studying it in curiosity. It did not seem to have any inscriptions or patterns on it.

"Before I start," Subaru said slowly, "can you tell me anything about the trial? Any hints?"

Shaula tilted her head, considering. "Master designed it, so Master should already know the answer.

Of course, it would not be so easy, sighed Subaru. He touched the monolith and a voice pierced directly through his mind - Touch the brightest of the hero destroyed by Shaula.

More than a voice, this felt like a thought directly implanted in his mind. It did not have a sensation of a sound being emitted, it was literally a flow of words that settled in his mind.

Subaru watched as the monoliths in front of him multiplied, surrounding and engulfing the area. They were of different sizes, but the shape in general was the same. It did not take a genius to guess that he needed to find the correct one. But of course the problem was understanding what correct even meant here? What did Shaula destroy exactly?

He went ahead and asked her the question directly - "Shaula, what exactly did you destroy? Can you tell me that at least?"

Shaula tilted her head, her expression going adorably blank. "Destroyed? I destroy lots of things, Master! Witchbeasts, intruders Oh! And there was this really annoying bird that kept making noise outside the watchtower and I.."

"No, no, I mean in the context of the trial," Subaru interrupted quickly. "The trial said 'the hero destroyed by Shaula.' Does that mean anything to you?"

"Hmm?" Shaula put a finger to her lips, looking genuinely confused. "A hero? I don't think I've destroyed any heroes though? Most people I kill people trying to reach the watchtower. I don't really ask them if they're heroes first. That would be weird, right?"

Subaru felt his eye twitch. Of course she wouldn't know. "Never mind," he muttered, turning back to study the monoliths.

"If Master needs help, just ask!" Shaula called out cheerfully. "Though I probably won't be much help! I'm not very smart! But I can cheer you on!"

Subaru tuned her out, his mind already working. Touch the brightest star of the hero destroyed by Shaula, "destroyed by Shaula." Shaula could easily represent something beyond just the woman at the doorway.

A name. Names in this world mattered. He'd learned that with Regulus Corneas - named after the brightest star in Leo, the Little King, the heart of the lion. Understanding that connection had been crucial to defeating him.

So what did Shaula mean?

Subaru looked back at her. The scorpion-tail hairstyle. All those late nights in Japan, browsing astronomy websites, and star charts because they were more interesting than his suffocating reality flashed through his mind.

Shaula. A star in Scorpius. The scorpion constellation. And the scorpion, in Greek mythology, was the creature that killed Orion the Hunter.

The hero destroyed by Shaula. Orion was not a star, but rather a constellation and then meaning of the brightest in Orion was easy enough to guess -  Subaru needed to find Orion's brightest star among these monoliths.

But which star? Orion had two prominent ones. Betelgeuse - the red supergiant marking the shoulder, famous and distinctive, sharing its name with the mad Archbishop whose power Subaru now wielded. And Rigel - the blue-white supergiant marking the foot.

Any astronomy enthusiast knew the truth, Rigel was actually brighter, but Betelgeuse that was about to go supernova any moment could appear to burn brighter for several periods of time in the nightsky. Subaru needed to find the constellation. From ground level, the three-dimensional arrangement was impossible to parse. He needed height.

Subaru raised his hand, summoning Invisible Providence. The unseen hands manifested beneath him, and he began to rise, floating upward past the monoliths until he was suspended high above in the air.

The change in perspective was immediate. The chaos became order. There it was, three monoliths in a perfect line. Orion's Belt. And radiating from them, the rest of the constellation. Two stars marked the shoulders, one of them being Betelgeuse. And below the Belt, two more stars marked the legs, one of them being Rigel.

Subaru descended carefully, released the Authority, and began navigating the maze. Left past the Betelgeuse monolith, between the Belt stars and Right, then forward toward that blue- he finally stood before Rigel's monolith. Subaru pressed his palm against it.

The monolith flared for a moment and suddently white walls started transforming, erupting with shelves. Books materialized by the thousands - ancient and new, every size and color imaginable.

The room expanded impossibly, the ceiling rising into distant heights. Within moments, the trial chamber had become a vast library.

"Master did it!" Shaula rushed in, eyes wide with wonder. "I knew you could do it!"

Subaru barely heard her. He was staring at the impossible expanse of shelves stretching endlessly in every direction.

The hope that had died in this place since his awakening roared once more. Perhaps, with this library in sight Subaru could finally find his anwers and go back home.

Chapter Text

The transformation of Taygeta was breathtaking. One moment, Subaru stood in a stark white chamber with scattered monoliths. The next, reality itself folded and expanded, walls erupting with endless shelves that stretched into impossible distances. Books materialised by the thousands - ancient tomes bound in cracked leather, pristine volumes with gilded edges, worn paperbacks that looked like they'd survived centuries, manuscripts tied with faded ribbons.

The ceiling rose until it vanished into shadow, and the floor extended in all directions like a vast cathedral devoted to knowledge itself. The air filled with the distinctive scent of old paper and binding glue, mixed with a magical quality that made Subaru's skin tingle.

"Master did it! I knew you could!" Shaula rushed forward, her eyes wide with wonder. "The first trial! You completed it on your first try! That's so amazing! You really are amazing Masterl!"

Subaru barely heard her. His gaze swept across the impossible expanse of shelves stretching endlessly in every direction. The hope that had died since his awakening in this place roared back to life. Perhaps, with this library finally in sight, he could find his answers and go back home.

"Books," he breathed, moving toward the nearest shelf. His fingers traced along the spines, reading names embossed in gold lettering. "Aliana Greyson. Meckart Rillion. Thessia Marcellus."

He pulled out the first book and opened it. Blank pages stared back at him.

Subaru blinked, flipped through several more pages. All blank. Every single page was empty, pristine white paper unmarked by ink or text.

"What the..." He returned it to the shelf and grabbed another. Meckart Rillion. He opened it.

Blank.

Another book. Thessia Marcellus.

Blank.

"Shaula," Subaru said slowly, his voice tight. "Why are all these books empty?"

"Empty?" Shaula peered over his shoulder at the open book in his hands. "Huh! That's weird! I've never really looked at the books before, so I wouldn't know! Master, are you sure you're opening them right?"

"I'm opening them right," Subaru said through gritted teeth. He grabbed another book at random - Cornelius Velt - and flipped it open.

Blank.

"Maybe those are the wrong books?" Shaula suggested helpfully. "Try a different shelf!"

Subaru moved to another section, his movements becoming more frantic. He pulled out book after book, opening each one with growing desperation.

Wilhelm Andres. Blank. Phillora Vilhaust. Blank. Marcus Leonhardt. Blank. Sophia Tremaine. Blank.

Every single one. Empty. Useless.

"No, no, no!" Subaru's hands shook as he grabbed another volume. "There has to be something!"

He moved faster now, pulling books seemingly at random from different shelves, different sections. His breathing quickened as the pile of opened, useless books grew around him.

All blank. Every single one.

"Master?" Shaula's voice held genuine concern now. "Master, are you okay?"

"Okay?!" Subaru whirled on her, clutching yet another empty book. "I came here for answers! I struggled so much to get here! I fought through witchbeasts and sand and archbishops, left behind my past and life and friends because this place was supposed to have knowledge! And it's all EMPTY!"

He hurled the book at the nearest shelf. It bounced off harmlessly and fell to the floor.

Polaris chirped nervously, sensing his master's distress. The little spirit circled Subaru's head, trying to offer comfort.

"I just..." Subaru's voice cracked. "I just want to go home. That's all. And even here, even after everything, there's nothing. Nothing!"

Shaula watched him with those strange multi-pupiled eyes, her usual cheerfulness subdued. "Master... I'm sorry. I don't know why the books are empty. Maybe there's a trick to them? Master was always doing tricks with things!"

"A trick," Subaru repeated hollowly. He looked around at the vast library - thousands upon thousands of books stretching into infinity. If they were all empty, or if there was some special method needed to read them that he didn't know... "This is pointless."

"Don't say that, Master!" Shaula bounced over to him. "We just cleared the first trial! That's amazing! And there are more floors to explore! Maybe the information Master needs is on a different floor!"

"Or maybe it doesn't exist at all," Subaru muttered. But he forced himself to take a deep breath, to calm the panic threatening to overwhelm him. Falling apart wouldn't help. It never did.

"Fine," he said. "Let's keep looking around. Maybe we'll find something useful."

"That's the spirit, Master!" Shaula grabbed his hand and started pulling him toward the exit of the library section. "Come on! Let's explore! I haven't been to the upper floors in forever! Well, I've never been to them at all, but that's basically the same thing!"

They left the library behind, returning to the corridors of Alcyone. Subaru's earlier hope had curdled into bitter frustration, but he pushed it down. Getting angry wouldn't solve anything.

They passed room after room. Some were furnished simply, others elaborately. All showed signs of age and disuse, covered in a thin layer of dust that suggested Shaula didn't bother with housekeeping.

Then they turned a corner and Subaru stopped.

Where there had been blank wall before right next to the Green room, now stood a doorway. Beyond it, a grand staircase spiralled upward, each step carved from white stone that seemed to glow with internal light.

"Oh!" Shaula clapped her hands.

Subaru approached slowly, staring up at the ascending staircase. It rose far beyond what should be physically possible, spiralling up and up into shadow.

"This wasn't here before," he said.

"Nope! Totally new! I've never seen these stairs before in my life! Well, my very long life, but still! This is exciting, Master! We're exploring new parts of the tower together!"

Subaru peered up the staircase. The steps seemed to go on forever, disappearing into darkness far above. He took the first step, testing his weight on it. The stone was solid, cool beneath his feet.

They began climbing.

And climbing.

And climbing.

After the first hundred steps, Subaru's legs began to burn. After two hundred, his breathing grew laboured. After three hundred, he had to stop to rest, leaning against the wall while his lungs heaved.

"Master, are you okay?" Shaula asked, not even slightly winded.

"I'm fine," Subaru gasped out. "Just... give me a minute."

Polaris settled on his shoulder, chirping encouragement. The little spirit's warmth was comforting, even as Subaru's muscles screamed in protest.

After a few minutes of rest, Subaru forced himself to continue. The climb seemed endless. His thighs burned, his calves cramped, and sweat poured down his face. But he kept going, one step at a time.

Finally, after what felt like an eternity, the stairs opened into a new space.

Subaru emerged into another white room - circular, vast, completely empty except for a single object in its center.

A sword.

It stood upright, blade piercing into the white floor, hilt facing upward.

"Wow!" Shaula breathed. "That's really pretty! Master, is that the trial sword?"

Subaru approached it carefully. The sword seemed to call to him, drawing his attention like a magnet. "I think so."

"Be careful, Master! Once you touch it, the trial might start! And I don't know what this trial is! I've never been up here before!"

Subaru circled the sword, examining it from all angles. It looked like a standard long-sword - maybe slightly longer than average, with a straight cross-guard and a simple leather-wrapped hilt. Nothing about it seemed particularly special or magical.

"Well," Subaru said. "Only one way to find out."

He reached out and grasped the hilt.

The sword came free easily, sliding from the floor as if it had been thrust into water rather than stone. The moment it cleared the ground, a voice echoed directly into Subaru's skull:

"Gain his forgiveness, by hand of the Fool who has reached the Heavenly Sword."

The words reverberated through his consciousness, alien and intrusive. Like before during the first trial, they weren't spoken aloud - they simply appeared in his mind, as if someone had written them directly onto his thoughts.

Before Subaru could process what he'd just heard, the space ahead of him rippled and distorted like heat waves rising from sun-baked sand.

A figure materialised.

A man with long red hair flowing down his back, muscular frame adorned in a crimson robe that left his right side exposed. A black eye-patch covered his left eye, while his right eye gleamed an impossible blue - the colour of a sky that had never seen clouds. His face held a savage beauty, marred by a smile full of teeth that reminded Subaru of a shark about to feed. He had a wild, untamed beauty and savage look that would have made most people swoon around him.

The man's presence hit like a physical force. The air itself seemed to thicken around him, pressing down on Subaru's shoulders with crushing weight. Every instinct screamed danger - predator, threat, run.

Behind Subaru, there was a strangled gasp followed by a heavy thud.

He glanced back to see Shaula collapsed on the floor, her body rigid with terror. Her eyes were wide, pupils dilated so much that only thin rings of green remained. She was shaking violently, her mouth opening and closing soundlessly. Foam flecked the corners of her lips.

She'd fainted from fear.

Shaula - the woman who'd casually killed witchbeasts, who'd guarded this tower for four centuries, who possessed enough power to shoot down targets from kilometres away with absolute precision had taken one look at this man and lost consciousness.

"Aahn?" The man scratched his bare chest idly, that shark-like grin widening. "Someone finally showed up? Took long enough, you."

Subaru's grip tightened on the sword. His palms were slick with sweat. "Who are you?"

"Who am I?" The man threw back his head and laughed, the sound echoing through the white chamber like thunder rolling across empty plains. "Ain't got no name worth givin' ya. Just a mere 'Stick Swinger,' I am."

"Stick Swinger?" Despite the terror crawling up his spine, Subaru felt his mouth twitch. The absurdity of it broke through his fear for just a moment. "If you're the Stick Swinger, then I guess I'm the Whip Slasher."

The man's grin widened impossibly further, revealing more teeth than should fit in a human mouth. "Kah! Got a mouth on ya, don't ya? Good. Makes it more fun to shut it, you."

He reached into his robe and pulled something out - a pair of simple wooden chopsticks. The kind you'd use to eat noodles. He twirled them between his fingers with casual grace, the movement almost hypnotic.

"Well then, Whip Slasher," the Stick Swinger said, his blue eye fixed on Subaru with predatory intensity. "Let's see if ya worth the air ya breathin', you."

Subaru barely had time to register the words before the man moved.

There was no warning. No tensing of muscles, no shift in weight, no indication of intent. One instant the Stick Swinger stood twenty meters away. The next, he was in Subaru's face, chopsticks already in motion.

Subaru's brain couldn't process what was happening. His eyes saw movement - a blur of red and wood - but couldn't track it. His body tried to react, muscles tensing to bring the sword up in defence, but he was moving through molasses compared to this monster.

The chopstick struck Subaru's wrist.

Pain exploded up his arm. The sword flew from nerveless fingers, clattering across the white floor. Subaru's hand hung limp, the bones in his wrist fractured from a single tap.

Before he could even register what had happened, the second chopstick jabbed into his solar plexus.

All the air left Subaru's lungs in an explosive gasp. His diaphragm spasmed, refusing to draw breath. His vision went white at the edges. He doubled over, mouth opening and closing like a fish out of water.

The Stick Swinger's foot came up in a lazy arc and caught Subaru under the chin.

Subaru's head snapped back. His teeth clacked together with bone-jarring force, biting through the tip of his tongue. Blood filled his mouth. His body left the ground, airborne for a brief, terrifying moment before gravity reasserted itself.

He crashed onto the white floor fifteen meters away, the impact driving what little air remained from his lungs. Something in his chest cracked - ribs, sternum, he couldn't tell. Everything was pain and confusion and the taste of copper.

"That's it?" The Stick Swinger's voice carried across the chamber, dripping with disdain. "Ya took one hit and ya already done, you? What a waste, you. I thought ya might be interestin', but ya just trash, you. Worthless, pathetic trash, you."

Subaru tried to push himself up. His broken wrist collapsed under his weight, sending fresh agony shooting up his arm. He fell back down, face pressed against the cool floor.

"Can't even stand, you. What ya even doin' here, you? This is a trial for fighters, not weaklings who can't take a love tap, you. Ya insultin' me by showin' up like this, you."

Subaru's vision swam. The edges of his consciousness frayed. His body screamed at him to just give up, to let the darkness take him.

But he couldn't. Not yet. Not after everything.

He tried to activate Invisible Providence. The familiar sensation of the Authority manifested - three unseen hands forming from his will.

They shot toward the Stick Swinger from different angles.

The man didn't even look at them. His chopstick flicked through the air almost lazily.

The Invisible Providence hands ceased to exist. The concept of the Authority itself was sliced apart like paper, and the hands vanished as if they'd never been.

"Tricks, you?" The Stick Swinger's voice held pure contempt. "Ya think tricks'll work on me, you? Pathetic, you. My chopsticks cut everythin', you. Don't matter if it's real or not, you. If I can feel it, I can cut it, you."

He walked forward slowly, each footstep deliberate. But his feet never left the spot where he'd first materialised. He was rotating in place, turning to face Subaru's prone form, but not taking a single step.

"Ya know what the saddest part is, you?" The Stick Swinger continued, his voice thick with mockery. "Ya got potential, you. I can see it, you. Ya got spirit in ya eyes, you. But ya got no skill, no trainin', no technique, you. Ya just flaili' around like a child throwin' a tantrum, you. Embarrassin', you."

Subaru coughed, blood spattering onto the white floor. He tried to summon Polaris, to call on the fire spirit's power.

Polaris responded, flames erupting around Subaru's prone form. The spirit launched a concentrated stream of fire at the Stick Swinger - heat intense enough to melt stone, flames hot enough to incinerate flesh.

The Stick Swinger cut through it.

His chopstick moved in a straight line through the air, and the flames simply parted. They curved around him like water around a rock, dissipating harmlessly into nothing.

"Fire too, huh?" The disdain in his voice was palpable. "What's next, you gonna cry at me, you? Maybe that'll work, you. Can't imagine anythin' else from a weakling like you, you."

Subaru's consciousness was fading. The pain, the lack of oxygen, the overwhelming sense of helplessness - it was too much. His vision tunnelled to a pinpoint.

"Don't pass out yet, you," the Stick Swinger said, and there was genuine anger in his voice now. "I ain't done tellin' ya how worthless ya are, you. Stay conscious and listen, you piece of trash, you."

But Subaru couldn't. His body had reached its limit.

The last thing he saw before darkness claimed him was that shark-like grin, twisted with disgust.

The last thing he heard was: "Waste of my time, you were."

Subaru's eyes snapped open.

He gasped, hands flying to his chest, his wrist, searching for injuries that were no longer there. His fingers found smooth, unbroken skin. No blood. No pain.

He was lying in the Green Room. The soft moss cushioned his body, and the healing glow washed over him like warm water. Polaris curled up beside him, chirping softly in what might have been distress.

How...?

Memories flooded back. The fight. The complete, total, overwhelming defeat. Three seconds. He'd lasted three seconds against that monster.

"Master!" Shaula's face appeared above him, eyes red and swollen from crying. Her voice was raw, hoarse from sobbing. "Master, you're awake! I was so scared! You weren't moving and there was so much blood and - "

"How did I get here?" Subaru croaked.

"I carried you!" Shaula said, tears still streaming down her face. "After... after you passed out, Reid just stood there for a moment, then he disappeared. The trial ended, I think? And I grabbed you and ran down all the stairs and brought you here and you still weren't waking up and I didn't know what to do - "

"Reid," Subaru interrupted. "That was Reid Astrea?"

Shaula nodded miserably. "Yes, that disgusting, abhorrent, vile and cruel womanising peace of trash. I hate him, I hate him so much". Subaru could not help but notice even in her passionate fury how scared Shaula was, visibly trembling from just mentioning Reid's name.

Subaru sat up slowly. His body felt fine- the Green Room had healed everything - but his mind was reeling. Three seconds. In three seconds, that man had broken his wrist, ruptured his diaphragm, cracked his ribs, and made him feel more helpless than he'd ever felt in his life.

And he'd done it with chopsticks.

While calling him worthless trash.

"The trial condition," Subaru said slowly. "It said I needed to gain his forgiveness. What does that mean?"

"I don't know!" Shaula wailed. "Every time I sense him, I run away! I can't fight him, Master! Nobody can! I only managed to make him use two hands every ten fights master."

Subaru looked at his hands. They were steady, unmarked. But he could still feel the phantom sensation of his wrist bones shattering. The memory of utter helplessness.

Worthless. Pathetic. Trash.

The words echoed in his mind, mixing with other voices from other times. Voices telling him he was useless, that he didn't belong, that he would never amount to anything.

"I have to go back," Subaru said.

"What?!" Shaula grabbed his shoulders. "Master, no! You can't! Reid will just - he'll hurt you again! Please, Master, don't go back there!"

"I don't have a choice," Subaru said flatly. "I need to complete this trial. I need to get to the top of the tower."

"But you can't beat Reid! Nobody can!"

"Then I'll keep trying until I figure out how."

Shaula's grip tightened. "Master, please! I can't watch you get hurt like that again! Please!"

But Subaru was already standing, pulling free from her grasp. His legs felt strong - the Green Room had done its work perfectly. His body was ready.

His mind, though... his mind was a different story.

Three seconds. He'd been destroyed in three seconds.

How many times would he have to fail before he found a way to win?

"I'll be back," Subaru said, heading for the door.

"Master!" Shaula's voice cracked with desperation.

But he didn't stop. Couldn't stop.

The staircase loomed ahead. Subaru took the first step, then the second. His legs moved automatically, climbing while his mind tried to process what had just happened.

Reid Astrea. The Stick Swinger. The first Sword Saint.

The man who had called Subaru worthless trash.

Up and up the stairs. Each step felt heavier than the last, not from physical exertion but from the weight of knowing exactly what waited at the top.

He emerged into the white chamber.

The sword stood in its center, waiting. No sign of Reid - he only appeared after the sword was drawn.

Subaru walked forward, his footsteps echoing in the vast space. He reached out and grasped the hilt.

"Gain his forgiveness, by hand of the Fool who has reached the Heavenly Sword."

Reid materialised, that same shark-like grin on his face. He pulled out his chopsticks.

"Back already?" Reid's voice dripped with mockery. "Thought ya learned ya lesson, you. Guess trash is too stupid to know when to quit, you."

Subaru raised his whip and Polaris immediately ignited it with flames.

"Let's try this again," Subaru said, his voice steadier than he felt.

Reid's grin widened. "Kah! Look at this, you. Still got some fight in ya despite bein' crushed like a bug, you. Too stupid to know when ya beaten, you. Let's see how long ya last this time, trash, you."

Reid moved.

Subaru tried to track him this time, tried to anticipate the movement based on the previous fight. But it was useless. Reid was simply too fast.

The chopstick came at his face. Subaru tried to dodge, twisting his head to the side.

The chopstick jabbed into his temple with pinpoint precision. Stars exploded across Subaru's vision. His balance vanished. He stumbled sideways, arms windmilling uselessly.

Reid's other chopstick caught him in the kidney.

Subaru screamed. The pain was indescribable - a lance of pure agony that shut down his entire nervous system. His legs gave out. He collapsed to his knees.

Reid's foot came up and caught him in the chest, sending him flying backward.

Subaru crashed into the floor, sliding across the smooth surface. Blood poured from his mouth where he'd bitten through his tongue again.

"Four whole seconds this time, you," Reid said, his voice thick with contempt. "Real progress there, trash, you. At this rate, ya might last a whole minute by the time ya a hundred years old, you. If ya live that long, you. Which ya won't, you, cause ya too weak to survive anythin', you."

Subaru tried to activate Invisible Providence again. Four hands this time, attacking from all sides simultaneously.

Reid's chopsticks moved in a blur, cutting through all four in less than a second.

"Still usin' the same trash tricks, you. Ya don't learn, do ya, you. That's what makes ya trash, you. Real fighters adapt, you. Real fighters learn, you. But you? Ya just a stubborn piece of garbage who keeps makin' the same mistakes, you."

Polaris launched another wave of flames.

Reid cut through them without even looking.

"Ya spirit's got more fight than you do, you. Pathetic, you. When ya familiar's braver than ya are, ya know ya worthless, you."

Subaru's consciousness was fading again. The pain, the overwhelming sense of inadequacy, the crushing reality of how impossibly outmatched he was—it all pressed down on him like a physical weight.

"Don't ya dare pass out yet, you," Reid snarled. "I said stay conscious, you. Ya gonna listen to everythin' I got to say about how worthless ya are, you. Ya owe me that much for wastin' my time, you."

But Subaru couldn't help it. His body shut down, seeking escape from the pain.

Darkness claimed him again.

Green Room.

Shaula crying.

"Master, please stop! Please don't go back there!"

But Subaru stood and headed for the stairs.

Up. Four hundred-plus steps.

White chamber.

Sword.

"Gain his forgiveness, by hand of the Fool who has reached the Heavenly Sword."

Reid's grin. "Back for more, trash, you? Ya really are stupid, ain't ya, you."

Fight.

Five seconds this time. Subaru tried a different approach - staying mobile, using his whip from distance.

Reid closed the gap instantly and broke both his legs with two precise strikes of the chopsticks.

"Ya think runnin' away'll help, you? That's the thinkin' of a coward, you. Worthless coward trash, you."

Darkness.

Green Room.

Shaula sobbing.

Stairs.

Chamber.

Sword.

Reid.

Three seconds. Subaru tried to use Invisible Providence to create a shield.

Reid cut through it and drove a chopstick through Subaru's shoulder, pinning him to the floor.

"Defense, you? When ya got nothin' worth defendin', you? Waste of effort, you."

Darkness.

Again.

Four seconds. Subaru tried combining attacks - whip and Invisible Providence simultaneously from different angles.

Reid yawned and destroyed everything with casual flicks of his chopsticks.

"Combination attacks only work if the individual parts ain't trash, you. All ya doin' is combinın' trash with trash to make bigger trash, you."

Darkness.

Again.

Six seconds. A new record. Subaru had tried pure aggression - rushing in with everything he had.

Reid side-stepped the charge without moving his feet, just rotating his upper body, and jabbed both chopsticks into Subaru's spine.

Subaru's legs stopped working. He collapsed face-first onto the floor, unable to move anything below his waist.

"Ya swingin' like a drunk toddler, you. No form, no technique, no skill, you. Just flaili' around hopin' to get lucky, you. That ain't fightin', that's garbage, you."

Darkness.

Again and again and again.

Subaru lost count. Ten attempts? Twenty? Thirty?

Each time, he lasted between three and seven seconds. Never longer. Usually shorter.

Each time, Reid destroyed him with contemptuous ease, all while never taking a single step from his starting position.

Each time, Reid's words cut deeper than his chopsticks.

"Worthless, you."

"Trash, you."

"Waste of space, you."

"Ya don't deserve to be here, you."

"Ya insultin' real fighters by existin', you."

The physical pain was horrible, but Subaru's body healed every time in the Green Room. The mental pain, though - that accumulated. Each defeat piled on top of the previous one, building a mountain of inadequacy that threatened to crush him entirely.

Shaula stopped trying to convince him not to go back. She just cried silently, watching him leave each time with haunted eyes.

The stairs became automatic. Four hundred-plus steps that Subaru's legs knew by heart now. Up and up, knowing exactly what waited at the top.

Knowing he would lose.

Knowing Reid would call him trash.

Knowing he would fail again.

But still climbing.

Because what else could he do?

Attempt thirty-seven. Or maybe thirty-eight. Subaru had stopped counting.

He grabbed the sword. Reid appeared.

"Still comin' back, you," Reid said, and for the first time, there was something other than contempt in his voice. Curiosity, maybe. "Most trash would've given up by now, you. But not you, you. Ya keep comin' back to get crushed, you. Why, you?"

Subaru didn't answer. He raised his whip and charged.

Reid destroyed him in four seconds.

But as Subaru's consciousness faded, he heard Reid mutter, almost too quiet to hear:

"Ya footwork's all wrong, you. Can't fight proper when ya standin' like that, you."

The words were buried under layers of insults and mockery, barely noticeable. But they were there.

A hint? Or just more trash talk?

Subaru didn't know. The darkness took him before he could think about it.

Green Room.

Subaru lay on the moss, staring at the ceiling. His body felt fine. The Green Room had healed everything, as always.

But his mind...

His mind felt like it was fracturing. Each defeat carved away another piece of his sanity. The constant cycle of pain and failure and humiliation was wearing him down in ways that physical healing couldn't fix.

Worthless. Trash. Waste of space.

Reid's words echoed in his skull, mixing with his own dark thoughts.

Maybe Reid was right. Maybe he was worthless. Maybe he had no business being here, trying to complete trials designed for actual heroes.

Maybe he should just give up.

The thought was seductive. Comforting, almost. If he gave up, the pain would stop. The constant cycle of defeat would end. He could just... rest.

But then what?

He'd be trapped in this tower forever. Unable to complete the trials. Unable to reach the top. Unable to find a way home.

Unable to see his mother again.

The thought of his mother—her smile, her cooking, her voice—cut through the fog of despair like a knife.

No.

He couldn't give up. Not when going home was still possible. Not when there was still a chance.

Even if that chance seemed impossible.

Even if Reid Astrea seemed unbeatable.

Even if Subaru himself was worthless trash who couldn't last more than a few seconds.

He had to keep trying.

Because the alternative was giving up on everything he'd been fighting for.

Subaru pushed himself to his feet.

Shaula looked up from where she sat in the corner. Her eyes were red and puffy, her face streaked with tears. She didn't say anything. Just watched him with that haunted expression.

"I'm going back," Subaru said.

Shaula nodded slowly. She'd stopped protesting twenty attempts ago.

"Master," she said quietly. "Why? Why do you keep going back when it hurts so much?"

Subaru paused at the doorway.

"Because I have to," he said simply. "Because giving up isn't an option. Because somewhere beyond all this pain, there's a way home. And I'll do whatever it takes to reach it."

Even if it meant being crushed by Reid Astrea a hundred times.

Even if it meant listening to that voice call him trash over and over.

Even if it seemed impossible.

He would keep fighting.

Because that's all he knew how to do anymore.

Attempt thirty-nine.

Subaru climbed the stairs in a daze. His legs moved automatically, muscle memory carrying him upward while his mind drifted somewhere far away. The white stone steps blurred together, indistinguishable from one another.

The white chamber materialized around him like it always did. The sword waited in the center like it always did.

Subaru grabbed the hilt with mechanical precision.

"Gain his forgiveness, by hand of the Fool who has reached the Heavenly Sword."

The words barely registered anymore. They were just noise. Background static in the endless loop of his existence.

Reid appeared, chopsticks already in hand. That shark-like grin plastered across his face.

"Look at them eyes, you," Reid said, peering at Subaru closely. "Dead inside, you are. That's what happens to trash when reality crushes 'em, you. Ya finally realizin' what ya are, you."

Subaru raised his whip. The motion was lifeless, empty. He didn't expect it to work. Didn't expect anything to work.

But he did it anyway.

Because stopping meant giving up.

Reid moved.

This time, Subaru didn't even try to track the movement. What was the point? He couldn't see it anyway. Couldn't react to it. Couldn't do anything but stand there and wait for the pain.

The chopstick struck his collarbone, shattering it instantly. Subaru's arm went numb, the whip falling from nerveless fingers. The second chopstick jabbed into his liver with surgical precision.

Subaru coughed blood and dropped to his knees.

Three seconds. Same as always.

Reid circled him - or rather, rotated in place to keep facing him. Still hadn't taken a single step from his starting position.

"Ya know what the difference between a fighter and trash is, you?" Reid asked, his voice conversational. "A fighter learns, you. A fighter adapts, you. A fighter looks at what went wrong and fixes it, you."

He jabbed a chopstick into Subaru's shoulder, pinning him to the floor.

"But trash? Trash just keeps makin' the same mistakes, you. Over and over and over, you. That's you, you. Ya haven't learned a damn thing. Ya just keep throwin' yaself at me like a broken toy, you."

Subaru's vision swam. The pain was distant now, almost abstract. His mind had learned to disconnect from it, to float somewhere above his body while the physical sensations happened to someone else.

"Ya stance is garbage, you," Reid continued, and there was almost a lecturing quality to his voice now. Almost. Buried deep under layers of contempt. "Ya got no balance, you. No center of gravity, you. First hit knocks ya over cause ya standin' like a newborn baby, you."

The chopstick twisted in Subaru's shoulder. Fresh agony lanced through the numbness.

"And ya weapons, you. Ya got no idea how to use 'em proper, you. That whip's meant for range, but ya keep tryin' to use it up close, you. Stupid, you. And ya sword,ya were grippin' it all wrong, you. Too tight in the fingers, not enough support from the palm, you. Amateur garbage, you."

Darkness crept in at the edges of Subaru's vision.

"Ya invisible hands are the only interestin' thing about ya, you," Reid said, his voice growing distant. "But even those ya use wrong, you. Tryin' to grab me, tryin' to crush me, you. Waste of time, you. Can't crush what ya can't catch, you. Should be usin' 'em to control the space, not control me, you. But ya too stupid to figure that out, you."

The world faded.

Reid's voice followed him into the darkness: "Maybe next time ya'll actually listen, trash, you."

Green Room.

Subaru's eyes opened. He stared at the moss-covered ceiling, not moving.

His body was healed. His mind was fractured.

Reid's words echoed in his skull, mixing with the dozens of other times Reid had called him trash, had pointed out his failures, had demonstrated his complete inadequacy.

Ya stance is garbage.

Ya got no balance.

Ya grippin' it all wrong.

Should be usin' 'em to control the space, not control me.

Wait.

Subaru's thoughts stuttered, catching on something. He replayed Reid's words in his mind, separating them from the insults and contempt.

Reid had criticized his stance. His grip. His use of Invisible Providence.

But more than that - Reid had told him what was wrong. And buried in those criticisms, almost invisible beneath the mockery, were hints about what he should be doing instead.

No balance. No center of gravity.

Fix the stance. Lower the center of gravity.

Grippin' it wrong. Too tight in the fingers.

Adjust the grip. Support from the palm.

Should be usin' 'em to control the space, not control me.

Use Invisible Providence differently. Not to attack Reid directly, but to control the battlefield, to lock him in smaller area, giving Polaris more concentrated area for her firepower.

Subaru sat up slowly.

These weren't just insults. Reid was... teaching him? No, that couldn't be right. Reid hated him. Called him trash constantly. There was no kindness in those words, no desire to help.

But the information was there regardless. Scattered among the abuse like gold dust in mud.

"Master?" Shaula's voice was quiet, cautious. She'd been sitting in the corner as always, watching him. "Are you... okay?"

"No," Subaru said honestly. "But I think I just figured something out."

He stood up. His legs were steady. The Green Room had done its work.

"I'm going back," he said.

"Already?" Shaula's voice cracked. "Master, you just woke up. Please, rest for a bit - "

"I need to test something," Subaru interrupted. "If I'm right, then maybe... maybe I can last a little longer this time."

Shaula looked at him with those haunted eyes. "And if you're wrong?"

"Then I'll get crushed in three seconds like always," Subaru said with a hollow laugh. "But at least I'll have tried something different."

He headed for the stairs.

Attempts continued to blur together, but now there was progress. Measurable, infinitesimally small progress.

Attempt forty-one: Five seconds. Reid commented that Subaru's breathing was slightly less garbage than before, then shattered his collarbone with a casual tap. "Still breathin' like a fish outta water, you. But at least ya not hyperventilatin' like a panicked child no more, you."

Attempt forty-two: Three seconds. Subaru had gotten overconfident and abandoned his proper stance halfway through - or rather, one and a half seconds through. Reid's chopstick obliterated his kneecap as punishment. "Ya had it right for one whole second, then ya got cocky, you. Cocky trash dies even faster than regular trash, you."

Attempt forty-three: Six seconds. Reid actually paused mid-strike - genuinely paused for a fraction of a second - and said "Huh, you," before jamming both chopsticks through Subaru's shoulders and pinning him to the floor like an insect. "Ya actually made me think for half a heartbeat, you. Still crushed ya like a bug, but ya made me think, you."

Attempt forty-four: Four seconds. Subaru had tried a new tactic - using Invisible Providence to attack Reid from behind while engaging from the front. Reid cut through the Authority without looking and broke three of Subaru's ribs with a casual backhand. "Stupid, you. Predictable, you. Ya think I can't sense attacks from behind, you? I can sense a fly landin' on my back from a mile away, you. Amateur garbage thinkin', you."

Attempt forty-five: Seven seconds. Reid's chopstick hovered near Subaru's throat at the end, and Reid actually smiled. "Seven seconds, you. Ya doubling ya survival time from when ya started, you. Still dies faster than most insects, but for trash, that's real progress, you."

Each attempt, Subaru absorbed more lessons. Each failure taught him something new. Each insult contained another hint about what he needed to improve.

His stance became more solid. His grip more natural. His use of Invisible Providence more tactical. His whip work more precise.

But it barely mattered.

Seven seconds was his absolute maximum. Seven seconds of perfect technique, perfect execution, perfect everything - and Reid still destroyed him like he was made of paper.

The toll was devastating.

Shaula stopped crying every time he left, but only because she'd run out of tears. She just sat in the Green Room, hollow-eyed, watching him go, like a ghost trapped in an endless loop.

"What did Reid teach you this time, Master?" she would ask, her voice flat.

And Subaru would tell her, parsing through the insults and mockery to find the actual lessons buried within.

"He said my footwork's too static. I need to move more, create angles. But when I tried, he broke both my legs before I could complete the step."

"He said I'm telegraphing my attacks. My shoulders tense up before I strike. But even when I fixed it, he still saw it coming."

"He said I'm not using Polaris effectively. The fire should be for zoning, not direct damage. But he cuts through fire like it's not even there."

Each lesson implemented. Each mistake corrected. Each fraction of a second earned through blood and pain and endless repetition.

And it was never enough.

Seven seconds was the wall. The absolute limit. No matter what Subaru did, no matter how much he improved, he couldn't break past seven seconds.

Because Reid Astrea was simply that overwhelming.

The mental fatigue was worse than the physical. The Green Room healed his body perfectly every time, but it couldn't heal the accumulated weight of fifty failures. The constant barrage of insults. The unending reminder of his inadequacy.

Worthless. Trash. Garbage. Pathetic. Weak. Useless. Waste of space. Waste of air. Waste of existence.

The words carved themselves into Subaru's psyche, layering atop each other until they formed the foundation of his self-perception. He was trash. Reid had proven it over and over. The only question was whether he could become useful trash.

But he kept going.

Because what else could he do?

Giving up meant staying trapped forever. Meant never going home. Meant accepting that he truly was worthless.

So he climbed the stairs. And fought. And failed. And climbed again.

Over and over and over.

Attempt seventy-eight.

Subaru climbed the stairs in a trance. His legs moved automatically. His mind was somewhere else, floating in a grey space between determination and despair.

Four hundred and forty-four steps. He'd climbed them so many times now that he could do it with his eyes closed. His body knew every step, every turn of the spiral.

He grabbed the sword without thinking.

Reid appeared, assessed him with that single blue eye.

"Ya look like death, you," Reid observed. "Eyes all hollow, you. Face all gaunt, you. Skin's gone grey, you. Ya actually eatin' and sleepin', or ya just climbin' these stairs like a broken toy, you?" To Subaru's blank mind, it did not register that Reid had genuinely asked about his health and he didn't answer either.

He just raised his weapons - sword in one hand, whip in the other - and settled into his stance. Weight low. Center balanced. Ready to die again.

Reid's grin widened. "Good, you. No more talkin', just fightin', you. That's the spirit, you. Trash that knows it's trash and fights anyway, you. That's almost respectable, you. Almost, you."

Reid moved.

Subaru's improved reflexes let him see the beginning of the movement. Just the beginning. Reid's shoulder shifted, his weight transferred, his arm began to extend - 

Then Reid was in his face, chopsticks already in motion.

Subaru twisted, his improved stance letting him absorb the first impact without immediately collapsing. The chopstick almost struck his shoulder with the force of a cannonball, but he shifted on his feet just in time.

One second.

He lashed out with his whip, keeping distance like Reid had taught him. At the same time, four Invisible Providence hands materialised around Reid, not attacking him directly, but creating barriers in the space itself, limiting his movement options.

Reid's chopsticks cut through the hands instantly, but they'd bought Subaru a fraction of a second. He used it to reposition, to create a new angle.

Two seconds.

Polaris launched flames at Reid's position. Reid cut through the flames with a casual flick.

Three seconds.

Subaru's breathing was already getting ragged. His muscles burned. His vision started to blur at the edges. Mental and physical strain of fighting three seconds with Reid Astrea was like three hours of fighting anyone else.

He pressed forward anyway, combining whip strikes with Invisible Providence hands, trying to create openings that didn't exist.

Reid deflected everything with contemptuous ease. But he was watching Subaru now, actually paying attention rather than just swatting him aside.

Four seconds.

Subaru's stance started to collapse. His technique began to deteriorate. Fatigue was setting in, making his movements sloppy, his reactions slow.

Reid's chopstick swept low, hooking Subaru's ankle.

Subaru's balance vanished. He crashed to one knee.

Five seconds.

The second chopstick came at his face. Subaru managed to raise his sword in a desperate block.

The chopstick hit the blade, and the steel sword - forged from the finest materials, enchanted by the tower itself - shattered like glass.

Subaru's eyes widened in shock. He'd seen Reid cut through Invisible Providence, through fire, through space itself. But seeing a wooden chopstick obliterate a steel sword...

Six seconds.

Reid's foot came up, almost lazily, and caught Subaru in the chest.

Subaru flew backward, his body ragdolling through the air. He crashed into the white floor thirty feet away, ribs cracking, blood filling his mouth. He skidded, rolled, and came to a stop in a crumpled heap.

Subaru tried to push himself up. His arms shook. His vision swam. Blood poured from his mouth, from his nose, from where he'd bitten through his tongue again.

He couldn't get up. His body wouldn't respond.

Reid walked over - still hadn't taken a step from his starting position, just rotated to face where Subaru had landed—and looked down at him.

"Six and a half seconds, you," Reid said. His voice was still contemptuous, still mocking. But there was something else there too. Something that might have been approval. "Ya gettin' close to that seven-second wall again, you. But ya hit a new problem, you."

He crouched down, bringing his face close to Subaru's. That blue eye bored into Subaru's fading consciousness.

"Ya technique's almost good enough now, you," Reid said quietly. "Ya stance is solid, ya weapon work is improvin', ya tactical thinkin' ain't completely garbage anymore, you. But ya body, you. Ya body can't handle more than six, seven seconds of fightin' someone at my level, you."

The chopstick tapped Subaru's chest, right over his heart.

"Ya fightin' like someone who's already given up half of what they got, you," Reid continued. "Like ya holdin' somethin' back, you. Can't win if ya not puttin' everythin' on the line, you. Can't break through limits if ya scared of payin' the price, you."

Reid's eye narrowed.

"Ya got somethin' inside ya that ya not usin', you. I can feel it, you.

"Next time ya come back, you," Reid said, his voice carrying an edge of command, "ya better stop holdin' back, you. Ya either come at me with everythin', or don't bother comin' back, you. I'm done wastin' time on trash that's too scared to use all its strength, you."

Darkness crept in at the edges of Subaru's vision.

Reid's final words followed him into unconsciousness: "Show me what ya really are, Whip Slasher, you. Or stay down where trash belongs, you."

Green Room.

Subaru's eyes opened to the familiar moss-covered ceiling. His body was healed - perfectly healed, as always. Subaru was at the point of his mind breaking. He tried everything, every movement, every strategy, every technique. Literally everything he was capable of had been tried, his body and mind beyond its limits at this point.

It still wasn't enough, nowhere close to being enough.

Subaru sat up slowly, his hands shaking. He did not feel fear any more, just exhaustion -  the weight of uncountable attempts pressing down on his shoulders.

Shaula looked up from her corner. She didn't ask what happened. She could see it in his face.

"Master," she said quietly. "Are you going back?"

"I..." Subaru paused. "I don't know."

For the first time in dozens of attempts, he actually didn't know if he should keep going.

Reid was right. He'd hit a wall. His technique was improving, yes. But his body, his stamina, his raw power - they weren't enough. Seven seconds was his absolute limit, and it wasn't enough to make Reid move.

What was he supposed to do? How could he fight this calamity wearing a human skin? How was it even remotely possible for a trash like him to even come close to beating him?

What would Beako have done? What would Emilia have done? Otto? Garfiel? Julius? How would they have handled this monster? Obviously better than him, that was the truth. He was just Natsuki Subaru, a broken man who did not even have the guts to face his friends and instead walked away.

At the point of mental break, it was surprisingly Wilhelm's words that once more helped Subaru focus - If you have made the decision for yourself to fight, to struggle, then fight with all you have. Do not give up for one second, one moment, or one instant. If you can still stand, if your fingers still move, if all your teeth have not broken, stand and fight.

But how? What else could Subaru try? What option was there that he had not explored in his pain and struggle to shake the monster that mocked and laughed at this failure?

Ya got somethin' inside ya that ya not usin'."

Subaru's blood ran cold.

The Witch Factor.

The Authority he'd absorbed from Regulus Corneas.

He'd... he'd completely forgotten about it. Or rather, he'd deliberately avoided thinking about it. Because the idea of using another Witch Factor, of embracing even more power that came from the Archbishops, from the Witch Cult...

It terrified him.

What if using it changed him? What if it made him more like them - like Petelgeuse, like Regulus, like all the monsters who'd caused so much suffering? Hadn't that already happened in Mirula, when he desperately tried to use all of his authority trying to defeat Lye?

"I can't," Subaru whispered. "I can't use that. It's too dangerous. I don't even know how. Invisible Providence and Return by Death came to me naturally. I did not force them on myself."

Subaru had been willing to endure unending brutal defeats. Had been willing to listen to Reid call him trash, worthless, garbage. Had been willing to push his body to its absolute limits.

But he hadn't been willing to risk using the Authority he'd taken from Regulus.

Because he was afraid.

Afraid of what it might do. Afraid of what it might make him become.

"Master," Shaula said softly. "What is that you are thinking about? You look reaaally troubled now."

"I... I have a power in me that I am scared of using, scared that it will turn me into someone I will be unable to recognise. Scared that it will make me a monster".

Shaula looked at him in genuine confusion, her face cutely twisting into a frown. She placed a hand on his shoulder.

"If Master uses that power to defeat Reid, to complete this trial, to get one step closer to going home... how is that monstrous?"

Subaru was quiet for a long time.

Then he said, "I don't even know how it works. I've never tried to use it. What if I can't control it?"

"Then you'll figure it out," Shaula said simply. "Just like you figured out everything else. That's how my master Flugel is."

Subaru looked down at his hands. At the fingers that had gripped sword and whip for dozens and dozens of attempts.

Ya either come at me with everythin', or don't bother comin' back.

Reid's words echoed in his mind.

Everything. Not just his technique, not just his weapons, not just his determination.

Everything.

Including the parts of himself he was afraid of.

"Alright," Subaru said quietly. "Alright. I'll try."

"Then Master needs to eat first," Shaula said firmly. "And sleep. If Master is going to use everything, Master needs to be at full strength."

Despite the gravity of the situation, Subaru found himself smiling slightly. "You sound like a mother hen."

"Shaula is Master's apprentice!" she protested. "It's Shaula's job to make sure Master takes care of himself! Especially when Master is terrible at it!"

They went to the kitchen together. Shaula's cooking was still terrible, some kind of witchbeast jerky that tasted like boot leather, but Subaru forced it down. His body needed fuel for what was coming.

After eating, Shaula made him sleep. Actually sleep, not just rest in the Green Room. She guarded the door to the bedroom, refusing to let him leave for a full eight hours.

When Subaru finally woke, he felt... different. Rested, yes. But also focused. Clear-headed in a way he hadn't been for dozens of attempts.

And beneath his ribcage, he could feel it.

The Witch Factor.

A presence that had been dormant since he'd absorbed it from Regulus. Quiet and waiting to be acknowledged.

"I'm going," Subaru said when he emerged from the bedroom.

Shaula nodded. "Master is going to win this time."

"I'm going to try," Subaru said. "With everything I have."

He headed for the stairs.

Four hundred and forty-four steps. Subaru climbed them with purpose now, not in a daze. His mind was sharp, focused on what needed to happen.

He would use everything. Invisible Providence. Polaris's flames. His whip. His sword.

And whatever the Witch Factor of Greed could do.

He didn't know how it worked. Had no idea what would happen when he tried to activate it. But he would find out.

Because he was done holding back.

Subaru reached the white chamber. The sword waited in the center.

He grabbed it.

"Gain his forgiveness, by hand of the Fool who has reached the Heavenly Sword."

Reid materialized, chopsticks already in hand. He looked at Subaru, and his grin widened.

"Well, well, you," Reid said. "Look at them eyes, you. Finally stopped bein' scared, you. Finally ready to show me everythin', you."

Subaru settled into his stance. The proper stance. Weight low. Center balanced. Sword and whip ready.

And deep inside his chest, he felt the Witch Factor stir. Responding to his determination. To his need.

"Come on then, trash, you," Reid said, his voice carrying genuine excitement for the first time. "Show me what ya really got, you. Show me what makes ya different from all the other garbage that couldn't last three seconds, you."

Reid moved.

And Subaru met him.

One second. Subaru's improved technique let him deflect the first chopstick strike. The impact nearly shattered his wrist, but he held on.

Two seconds. His whip lashed out, forcing Reid to block. Invisible Providence hands materialized, obstructing the space.

Three seconds. Polaris unleashed a torrent of flames. Reid cut through them, but they bought Subaru a precious fraction of a second.

Four seconds. Subaru's breathing was already labored, his muscles burning. But he pressed forward, combining attacks, creating pressure.

Five seconds. Reid's chopstick swept toward Subaru's throat.

And in that moment - facing true death for the first time since the second trial began - Subaru's desperation reached its peak.

He didn't want to fail again. Didn't want to be called trash again.

He wanted to WIN. Wanted to go HOME. Wanted to take back everything that had been stolen from him.

He wanted MORE.

The Witch Factor responded to that desire.

Something inside Subaru's chest cracked open like an egg breaking, and power flooded through him. Alien, Incomprehensible and utterly exhilarating.

But it was HIS. His power. His to control. His to use.

His vision doubled, tripled, showing him... layers. Dimensions. The fabric of reality itself, laid bare before him.

And he understood, instinctively, what this power could do.

The Authority manifested - Spatial vortex.

Reid's chopstick came at his throat—

And the space around Reid's arms suddenly began to expand.

The distance itself grew. Stretched. The space between Reid's weapon and Subaru's throat elongated, grew, became vast even though nothing had actually moved.

It was as if reality itself was being pulled apart like taffy, creating more and more distance where there should have been none.

Reid's eye widened. On instinct, his arm moved forward, the chopstick cutting through the expanded space. But the moment he cut through one section, that section behind his weapon expanded again. And the section ahead expanded even faster.

He was moving forward. But he was also standing still. Caught in an ever-expanding bubble of space that stretched faster than he could cross it.

Every inch Reid's arm moved forward, the space between his weapon and Subaru grew by two inches. Three inches. Four.

This was the Authority of Greed - designed specifically to stop the monster that was Reid Astrea, master swordsman who could cut space itself if he so desired.

"Clever, you! Real clever, trash, you!" Reid's grin widened impossibly. "Spatial manipulation, you! Makin' the distance grow faster than I can close it, you! But ya think that's enough, you?"

Reid's other chopstick came up and stabbed forward, trying to cut through the spatial distortion itself rather than just moving through it.

The chopstick found the edge of the expanded space and began slicing through it - cutting reality itself.

Subaru gritted his teeth and poured more power into the Authority. The space around both of Reid's arms expanded faster, grew larger, stretched further.

But the cost...

Pain exploded behind Subaru's eyes. It felt like his brain was being squeezed in a vice, like his skull was too small to contain the power flowing through it. Blood poured from his nose, from his eyes, from his ears.

The mental strain of maintaining the spatial manipulation was astronomical - like trying to hold up a mountain with his mind while that mountain was actively trying to crush him.

Six seconds.

Subaru didn't waste the opening he'd created. He couldn't hold this forever - maybe not even for another second.

He had to use everything. RIGHT NOW.

Subaru summoned every Invisible Providence hand he could manage, fifteen hands sprang out, more than he'd ever manifested at once and wrapped them around Reid's torso, to keep him in place while the spatial distortion did its work.

At the same time, Polaris ignited Reid with the full force of his power. Every ounce of the fire spirit's strength was unleashed at once. The entire chamber filled with white-hot flames that turned the air itself into plasma, temperatures that should have melted the floor itself.

Seven seconds.

Subaru's whip cracked forward, wreathed in Polaris's flames, lashing at Reid's position from the side. At the same time, he charged forward with the sword raised high, aiming for Reid's neck, putting every ounce of remaining strength into the strike.

Everything. Every technique. Every power. Every ounce of strength and will and desperation.

All concentrated into one overwhelming, desperate assault.

But the pain...

The mental strain was tearing Subaru apart from the inside. It felt like his consciousness was fragmenting, like his mind was being shredded into ribbons. The spatial distortion fought against him, reality itself pushing back against his attempts to manipulate it.

Blood poured from every orifice on his face. His vision flickered, going dark at the edges. His body screamed at him to stop, to let go, to accept defeat.

Eight seconds.

The sword came down toward Reid's neck—

And Subaru's concentration shattered.

For one crucial moment, one instant the agony overwhelmed him. His focus slipped. His grip on the Authority faltered. His mind couldn't hold all the pieces together anymore.

The expanded space around Reid's arms collapsed in an instant.

Reid's chopsticks, which had been painstakingly cutting through the spatial distortion, suddenly had nothing to resist them. They moved forward freely.

One chopstick severed all Invisible Providence hands simultaneously, cutting through them so fast it was like they'd never existed.

The other chopstick sliced through Polaris's flames like they were smoke, dispersing them with a single cut.

Reid twisted his body, breaking free of the momentarily weakened restraints, and his foot came up in a blurred motion - catching the descending sword and stopping it dead in mid-air.

Then Reid's chopstick jabbed into Subaru's solar plexus with surgical precision.

All the air left Subaru's lungs in an explosive gasp. The sword fell from nerveless fingers, clattering on the white floor. His whip's fire dissipated into nothing. The flames vanished. The Invisible Providence hands ceased to exist. The spatial distortion collapsed completely.

Subaru collapsed to his knees, blood streaming down his face from eyes, nose, mouth, and ears. His body convulsed from the feedback of the Authority, every nerve ending screaming in protest.

He'd broken through the seven-second wall.

But it hadn't been enough.

Reid stood over him, and for the first time, the Stick Swinger was actually breathing hard. The faintest sheen of sweat on his forehead. The barest hint of actual exertion.

Silence stretched between them for a long moment.

Shaula grabbed Subaru's collar, pulling him up from the floor. Subaru's legs dangled uselessly, unable to support his weight.

But it wasn't Shaula who had picked him up.

Reid's blue eye bored into Subaru's fading consciousness.

"Now THAT," Reid said slowly, his voice carrying genuine satisfaction, "was worth my time, you."

His grip shifted, he pulled Subaru's body close to him, letting his left hand envelop his neck and shoulders. The way Reid held him was almost gentle.

"Ya showed me what ya really are, you," Reid said quietly. "Ya showed me ya willin' to tear yaself apart to win, you. Ya showed me ya got the conviction, the technique, and the power, you. Ya showed me ya can use forces that'd break lesser men just by touchin' 'em, you."

His grin widened, but there was respect in it now.

"But ya also showed me ya limit, you," Reid continued. "Ya can't maintain that level of power, you. Ya concentration broke at the crucial moment, you. Against a weaker opponent, that combo woulda worked, you. Hell, against most opponents, that combo woulda worked, you. But against me..."

Reid trailed off, his expression becoming thoughtful.

"Ya need to last longer, you," he finally said. "Ya need to push harder, you. Ya need to suffer more, you. But more than that..."

He set Subaru down carefully, lowering him until he was sitting rather than collapsed.

"Ya need to grow stronger first, you," Reid said. "Ya technique, ya power, ya determination - they're all there, you. But ya body can't handle it yet, you. Ya mind can't hold it all together for long enough, you. Ya at the edge of what ya capable of right now, you."

Reid stood up, looking down at Subaru's broken, bleeding form.

"Ya made me work for it, you," Reid said, and there was no mockery in his voice now. Just acknowledgement and even hints of pride. "Ya made me actually try, you. Made me sweat, you."

He turned slightly, preparing to fade as the trial ended.

"But here's the truth, Whip Slasher, you," Reid said. "Ya at ya limit right now, you. Ya pushed yaself as hard as ya body and mind can handle, and it still wasn't enough to make me take a step, you. But.. you have earned the fool's forgiveness, haven't ya?"

Reid's started to fade, his form becoming translucent. Subaru's eyes slowly widened at the meaning of his words reached him.

His final words echoed through the chamber:

"Ya got potential, Natsuki Subaru, you. Don't waste it and don't make me regret for teaching ya."

And then he was gone.

Subaru sat at the center of the white chamber, blood pooling around him, his mind shredded from the strain, his body exhausted beyond anything he'd ever experienced. At that moment, Subaru did not even realise that he had never given Reid his true name.

Instead he was smiling.

Eight and a half seconds.

He'd made Reid acknowledge him. Made Reid actually work. Made Reid sweat, even if just a little.

And more than that, he'd awakened his Authority. Had used it, even if only briefly. Had shown Reid everything he had.

It hadn't been enough to make Reid take a step.

But it had been enough to earn his respect.

Footsteps echoed behind him. Shaula burst into the chamber, her eyes wide with terror when she saw Subaru's condition.

"Master!" She rushed over, dropping to her knees beside him. "Master, you're - there's so much blood - what did you—"

"Did it," Subaru croaked, his voice barely audible. "Showed him... everything..."

"Master, don't talk! We need to get you to the Green Room right now!"

Shaula scooped him up as carefully as she could, cradling his broken body against her chest. Tears streamed down her face as she ran for the stairs.

"You did it, Master," she whispered as she carried him down. "You really did it. You showed that bastard who's the best."

Subaru's consciousness was fading, but he held onto those words.

Respect.

He'd earned it.

He had won.

Second trial was finally complete.

Chapter Text

The Green Room's luminescent moss pulsed with gentle healing light as Subaru lay sprawled across its soft surface, every muscle in his body screaming in protest. The battle with Reid had pushed him beyond any limit he'd known existed. His mind felt fractured, pieced back together by the room's restorative properties but still bearing the phantom aches of eighty-plus near-deaths and the mental strain of awakening his Authority of Greed.

Shaula sat nearby, her legs tucked under her as she watched him with those unusual green eyes marked by three red dots around each pupil. She'd been quiet since carrying him down from Electra, unusually so. The cheerful energy that normally radiated from her had and become softer, more contemplative.

"Shaula," Subaru said quietly, his voice hoarse, "I need to thank you."

"Eeeh?" She tilted her head in that now-familiar way. "Thank me? For what, Master? I didn't do anything special!"

Subaru pushed himself up to sitting, ignoring the protests from his ribs. The Green Room had healed most of the physical damage, but the exhaustion and the remaining scars still would bother him for the rest of the day. "You carried me down those stairs every single time. Four hundred and forty-four steps. Over and over again."

"Well, of course I did! Master was hurt, so naturally -"

"You're scared of Reid," Subaru interrupted gently. His eyes found hers and held them. "I saw you faint the first time he appeared. You were shaking so hard I thought you'd break apart. And yet every single time he destroyed me, you went up there. You went into that chamber where he might still have been present. You picked me up and carried me down all those stairs, over and over, even though you were scared out of your mind."

Shaula's cheerful mask cracked slightly. Her fingers twisted in the fabric of her hotpants. "Master was hurting more than I was scared."

"And that justifies it?," Subaru asked voice becoming firmer. He took a breath, steeling himself. "And I need to apologize."

"Apologize?" Shaula blinked rapidly. "Master doesn't need to apologize to me! I'm just -"

"Don't say you're just an apprentice or just anything else," Subaru cut her off. He remembered his frustration in the Taygeta library, surrounded by those useless blank books, the hope he'd carried to this tower crumbling around him. "When I realized all those books were empty, when I thought I'd come all this way for nothing, I took that anger out on you. I yelled at you. I treated you like you were in my way instead of someone who'd been helping me."

Shaula shook her head vigorously, her scorpion-tail hairstyle swaying. "No, no! Master was upset and that's totally understandable! I didn't take it personally at all! Really, it's fine."

"It's not fine," Subaru insisted. His hands clenched into fists on his lap. "You've been alone here for four hundred years. Four hundred years, Shaula. Waiting for someone who never came back. And then I show up, and even though I don't remember you, even though I keep insisting I'm not who you think I am, you've done nothing but help me. You saved my life in the Dunes, you, you've supported me through every trial. And I repaid that by snapping at you when things didn't go my way."

"But Master, I really don't - "

"Please." Subaru's voice cracked slightly. "Please don't brush this off. Let me apologize properly. You deserve that much."

Shaula fell silent, her cheerful deflections dying in her throat. For a moment, she just looked at him, and Subaru could see the vulnerability beneath her usual brightness. The loneliness she tried so hard to hide behind enthusiasm and jokes.

"Okay," she said softly. "Okay, Master. I'm listening."

Subaru took another breath. "I'm sorry. I'm sorry for yelling at you in the library. I'm sorry for being harsh when you were only trying to help. I'm sorry that I keep denying being Flugel when I know that's hurting you. And I'm sorry that someone you care about left you alone for so long."

Shaula's eyes began to shimmer with unshed tears. She opened her mouth, probably to make another joke or deflection, but Subaru didn't give her the chance. He moved forward and wrapped his arms around her, pulling her into a hug.

Shaula went completely rigid with shock.

"You don't have to be alone anymore," Subaru said quietly into her shoulder. "Even if I don't remember the past you insist I should, I'm here now. And I'm not leaving you behind again."

For a heartbeat, two, three, Shaula remained frozen. Then her arms tentatively came up to clutch at Subaru's back, her fingers digging into the fabric of his jacket with desperate strength. A sound escaped her throat, something between a sob and a gasp, and then she was fully crying - four hundred years of loneliness finally finding release. Great, heaving sobs shook her entire body. She clung to Subaru like he might disappear if she let go, her face pressed against his shoulder as tears soaked through his clothing.

"I tried so hard," she choked out between sobs. "I tried so hard to be good, to follow orders, to guard the tower like Master asked. I killed so many people, Master. So many. And I kept thinking, kept hoping that maybe Master would come back and tell me I did well".

Subaru's chest constricted painfully. He held her tighter, one hand coming up to stroke her hair. "You did so well. You did amazing."

"But you don't remember!" Shaula wailed. "You don't remember and it's not your fault but it hurts so much! I kept trying to make you remember, kept calling you Master hoping you would, but you just kept insisting you weren't my master and every time you said it I felt like I was losing you all over again!"

"I know," Subaru said, his own eyes burning now. "I know, and I'm sorry. But Shaula, listen to me."

He pulled back just enough to cup her face in his hands, his thumbs wiping away her tears even as new ones fell. "Not remembering the past or not being your master Flugel doesn't mean I don't care about you now. These past days with you, even with all the pain and the absolute insanity of this tower, you've been here with me. You've been a wonderful companion and friend. Fuck your master Flugel. I am Natsuki Subaru and once I finish this last blasted trial you are not staying here one single moment."

Shaula's breath hitched. "Master..."

"Maybe I can't remember our history," Subaru continued, a small smile tugging at his lips despite the tears on his own cheeks. "But we're making new memories right now, aren't we? And these ones, I promise I won't forget. Because you're impossible to forget, Shaula. You're loud, enthusiastic, obnoxious and you have absolutely terrible taste in food and you call me Master even when I protest and you're completely, utterly irreplaceable."

A watery laugh burst from Shaula's throat. "Master just called my cooking terrible!"

"Because it is terrible," Subaru said with complete seriousness. "That witchbeast jerky tasted like should be qualified as highest grade poison."

"It was nutritious!"

"It was disgusting."

"Master is so mean!" But Shaula was smiling now, tears still flowing but mixed with genuine laughter.

"And Master stinks apparently," Subaru shot back, referencing her initial assessment of his smell. "Like old socks marinated in month-old milk, if I recall correctly."

Shaula's face flushed bright red. "I said it was a distinctive smell! Not necessarily a bad one!"

"Uh-huh, sure." Subaru grinned. "That's definitely what 'utterly putrid' means. A compliment."

"I was trying to identify you! Scent is very objective and scientific!" Shaula protested in her professor-voice, but she was giggling now, the heavy atmosphere lifting.

"Objective and scientific, got it." Subaru nodded sagely. "So when I say your cooking is objectively terrible and scientifically classified as a war crime, you'll accept that as fact?"

"Master!" Shaula shoved at his chest, but there was no real force behind it. "Master is being a bully! I will sue master in court for slandering Shaula's masterful cooking."

"Master is being honest," Subaru corrected. Then his expression softened again. "But Master is also incredibly grateful to have you here. Even if you're a terrible cook who insults how I smell."

Shaula's hands, which had been pushing against his chest, curled into fists in his jacket instead. She looked up at him, her multi-pupiled eyes still swimming with tears but filled with warmth. "Shaula is grateful too. Even if Master hit his head on a toilet and forgot everything and is in denial about being Flugel."

"I didn't hit my head on a toilet!" Subaru protested.

"That's what everyone says after they hit their head," Shaula said wisely. "The toilet incident is a classic form of denial, Master. I've seen it happen at least three times before."

"Three times?" Subaru stared at her. "Flugel hit his head on toilets three separate times?"

"At minimum! Maybe more that Shaula doesn't know about!" She nodded seriously. "Master was very prone to bathroom-related accidents. Shaula thinks it's because Master would read while using the toilet."

Subaru buried his face in his hands. "That's the most embarrassing thing I've heard all day, and today included Reid calling me trash eighty times."

"At least  that bastard's insults were about Master's fighting ability!" Shaula pointed out cheerfully. "The toilet thing is much more embarrassing because it happened during peaceful times! There's no excuse!"

"Please stop talking about toilets," Subaru groaned.

"Shaula will consider it," Shaula said primly. "For a price."

Subaru peeked at her through his fingers. "What price?"

"Master has to admit that Shaula's cooking isn't that bad!"

"Absolutely not. I refuse to lie."

"Master!" Shaula grabbed his wrists, trying to pull his hands away from his face. "Master is being stubborn!"

They wrestled playfully for a moment, the tension and tears of earlier completely dissolved. When they finally settled, both slightly out of breath and grinning, Subaru felt warmth that had nothing to do with Polaris's flames spread through him.

This felt right. Sitting here with Shaula, teasing each other, laughing despite everything they'd been through.

"Shaula," he said quietly.

"Yes, Master?"

"Thank you!", Subaru did not have to specify for what or why, the word everything was very much unspoken but there for Shaula to grasp.

Shaula's expression softened into something unbearably tender. "Master is Master, and Shaula loves Master no matter what."

The simple, honest declaration made Subaru's throat tight. He pulled her into another hug, this one gentler than before. "I don't deserve you."

"Too bad!" Shaula's voice was muffled against his shoulder. "Master is stuck with Shaula now! No returns or exchanges allowed!"

"Good," Subaru said, and meant it. "I wouldn't return you anyway. Even if your cooking is terrible."

"Master is the worst!" But Shaula was laughing, her arms tight around him.

They stayed like that for a long while, holding each other in the gentle glow of the Green Room.

Unlike the stark white rooms of the previous trials, Maia was simply magnificent. The ceiling soared impossibly high, disappearing into the sky. The walls were decorated with intricate murals depicting scenes Subaru couldn't quite make out in the dim light. And in the center of the room, coiled around a massive pillar that extended both up and down into infinity, was something that stole Subaru's breath.

A dragon.

But calling it simply a dragon felt like calling the ocean simply water. Volcanica, as Subaru suspected, was enormous. It stood easily sixteen meters tall even in its crouched position, but something told Subaru that this wasn't even close to its true size. Pale blue scales covered its body, each gleaming like a polished sapphire and sharper than any forged sword. They caught the ambient light and reflected it back in prismatic patterns that painted the walls in shifting colors.

The dragon's form was ancient and timeless. Its thick limbs ended in black claws that looked more like natural rock formations than anything living. Each claw could tear stone as easily as paper. Its face resembled an earth dragon's but was elevated to divine proportions. Intelligent golden eyes held centuries of wisdom and sorrow in their depths. Two large, milky-white horns curved from the sides of its head, adding to its otherworldly majesty.

But what truly captivated Subaru was the presence. The sheer weight of Volcanica's existence pressed down on the room like a physical force. Every breath Subaru took felt like it required permission. Every movement felt presumptuous in the face of this being's magnificence. The Divine Dragon radiated power and dignity as easily as breathing came to Subaru.

A mysterious white scar marked the flesh directly beneath Volcanica's jaw, stark against the blue scales. And atop the dragon's head, barely visible, was a faint shimmer.

Polaris chirped nervously from Subaru's shoulder, the little fire spirit clearly overwhelmed by the dragon's presence.

"It's okay," Subaru whispered, though he wasn't sure if he was reassuring Polaris or himself.

Volcanica's golden eyes turned toward him, and Subaru felt the full weight of that ancient gaze. For a moment, nothing happened. The dragon simply looked at him, and Subaru looked back, unable to move, unable to breathe.

Then Volcanica's mouth opened, and a voice like distant thunder rolled through the chamber:

"Thou, who hath reached the top of the tower. Step forth through the first floor, almighty petitioner."

Excitement surged through Subaru's chest, temporarily overriding his awe. The dragon was speaking to him! This was it, this was his chance to get real answers. He could ask Volcanica directly about returning home, about the tower's knowledge, about everything he needed to know!

"I am Volcanica," the dragon continued, its voice carrying the weight of ages. "In accordance with the ancient covenant, I ask the will of thee who hath reached the summit."

"Volcanica!" Subaru stepped forward eagerly. "I need to ask you something important! I need to know how to - "

He stopped.

Volcanica's golden eyes were looking at him, but not really seeing him. The gaze became distant, something vacant. The intelligence Subaru had sensed initially seemed clouded, as if viewing the world through thick fog.

Then, like a candle flickering to life in darkness, something flashed in those ancient eyes. Recognition. Awareness. And immediately following it was aggression.

Volcanica's jaw opened, and white-blue light began to build in its throat.

"Oh shit," Subaru barely had time to think before the Divine Dragon's breath roared toward him.

Instinct took over. Subaru reached for the power he'd awakened during his battle with Reid, and the Authority of Greed responded. Space itself warped around him, expanding outward, creating a bubble where distance became meaningless. The dragon's breath struck the edge of that expanded space and began to travel, but for every meter it moved forward, the space between it and Subaru grew by two meters, then three, then four.

But maintaining the spatial distortion against something as powerful as Divine Dragon's breath was like trying to hold back an ocean with a paper dam. Pain exploded behind Subaru's eyes immediately. His concentration wavered, his grip on the Authority faltering.

Subaru threw himself to the side, and the spatial vortex shattered like glass. The white-blue flames carved through where he'd been standing a heartbeat before, so hot they actually burned away sound itself.

Subaru rolled, came up in a crouch, his heart hammering. "Wait! I'm not your enemy! I just want to talk!"

But Volcanica wasn't listening. The dragon's eyes held that same faraway quality, operating on pure instinct rather than reason. Its massive form shifted, preparing to attack again.

"Master, get back!" Shaula shouted from the stairway entrance, terror clear in her voice.

But Subaru couldn't retreat. Not when he'd come this far. Not when completion of this trial might give him the answers he desperately needed.

"Alright then," Subaru muttered, his whip unfurling from his side as Polaris ignited with eager flames. "Let's dance, you fat lizard!"

Volcanica moved with speed that shouldn't have been possible for something so massive. Its tail whipped around, carving through the air with the sound of tearing fabric. Subaru ducked, feeling the wind of its passage ruffle his hair, and lashed out with his whip.

The weapon, enhanced by Polaris's flames, extended far beyond its normal length. Fifty meters of burning fire cracked toward Volcanica's flank. It connected with a sound like a thunderclap, and Subaru felt satisfaction surge through him - Until he saw the result. The flames had barely singed the outermost layer of the dragon's scales. The attack that could have carved through steel left only the faintest discoloration on Volcanica's hide.

"You've got to be kidding me," Subaru breathed.

Volcanica's massive head swung toward him, jaws opening for another breath attack. Subaru summoned fifteen Invisible Providence hands at once, the maximum he could maintain, and sent them rushing forward. The dragon barely seemed to have noticed them, instead Volcanica's breath launched, and Subaru activated his Authority of Greed again, expanding the space directly in front of the dragon's mouth. The flames traveled forward but the distance kept growing, the breath dissipating before it could reach him.

But the mental strain was immediate and crushing. Subaru's nose began to bleed. His vision flickered at the edges. He couldn't maintain the shields long enough. Subaru had to consciously increase the speed by which his infinite dimension expanded. Volcanica's breath attacks were fast, expanding at intense speeds, speeds quick enough to override his conjured special dimensions before Subaru was mentally able to offset the distance covered by them.

So, he let the spatial distortion collapse and dove behind one of the chamber's pillars. Volcanica's tail slammed into where he'd been standing, creating a crater in the stone floor. Subaru circled around, using the pillar as cover while his mind raced.

The dragon was powerful, impossibly so. And yet, Volcanica's movements, while devastating, lacked the precision and intent Subaru would expect from a being of its reputation. It was fighting like something operating on autopilot, not truly engaged with the battle.

If it was actually trying to kill me, Subaru realized, I'd already be dead.

The thought gave him hope. If Volcanica wasn't fighting at full capacity, then maybe he had a chance.

Subaru emerged from behind the pillar, whip spinning in complex patterns as Polaris poured power into the flames. He lashed out repeatedly, each strike extending the flaming weapon to its maximum range, targeting different points on the dragon's body. Most attacks glanced off harmlessly, but a few found gaps between scales, drawing thin lines of gold-colored blood.

Volcanica roared, the sound shaking dust from the ceiling. Its wings unfurled - massive, and magnificent, they seemed to eclipse the entire chamber, and soon it began to rise into the air.

"Oh no you don't," Subaru growled. His Invisible Providence hands shot upward, wrapping around the dragon's wings, trying to drag it back down. At the same time, he activated his Authority of Greed, targeting the space around Volcanica's ascending form and attempting to compress it, to trap the dragons wings in a bubble it couldn't escape.

For a moment, it worked. Volcanica's ascent halted as the spatial manipulation fought against its attempt to fly. The dragon's wings beat furiously, but the space around it had become a prison, expanding when it tried to move up, contracting when it tried to move down.

Then Volcanica simply breathed.

The white-blue flames erupted in all directions at once. Subaru's Invisible Providence hands burned away instantly. The spatial compression shattered under the sheer power of the attack. And Subaru, still holding onto his Authority, felt the backlash slam into his mind like a physical blow.

He screamed, blood pouring from his nose, his ears, his eyes. His concentration broke completely, and he collapsed to one knee, the world spinning around him.

Through his blurred vision, he saw Volcanica fully airborne now, circling the chamber with terrifying grace. The dragon's movements were fluid, almost beautiful, as it positioned itself for another attack.

Subaru forced himself to stand. His legs shook. His entire body trembled with exhaustion. But it wasn't fear or anger that was displayed on his face. Instead his expression looked manic, delighted, insane even. Because, Subaru realized very quickly into the fight, this whole dance was fun - Insane, dangerous, potentially suicidal, but undeniably, incredibly fun.

This feeling of dancing on the edge of death, of pushing himself beyond every limit, of matching strength against a fucking dragon, something that should be completely unbeatable. This was what he'd felt during those final attempts against Reid.

A grin impossible widened further across Subaru's face, wild and fierce. "Come on then!" he shouted up at the Divine Dragon. "Let's see what you've really got!"

The battle became a blur of motion and flame. Subaru danced across the chamber floor, his whip extending and contracting with fire, striking at Volcanica from impossible angles. When the dragon's tail swept toward him, he used his Authority to expand the space between them, buying precious seconds. When its claws swiped down, he used Invisible Providence hands to alter his trajectory mid-dodge, defying normal physics.

Polaris blazed with joy, the fire spirit clearly enjoying the challenge. Together, they created patterns of flame that lit up the entire chamber, turning it into a sea of orange and red light. 

Volcanica breathed again, and this time Subaru didn't try to block or avoid it entirely. Instead, he used his Authority to create a corridor of expanded space, channeling the breath away from him like water flowing around a rock. The strain was immediate and agonizing, but it worked. The flames passed on either side of him, close enough that he could feel their heat but not close enough to burn.

His whip lashed out while the dragon was still recovering from its breath attack, wrapping around one of Volcanica's horns. Subaru channeled Polaris's power through the weapon, and the flame intensified to white-hot heat. The horn began to glow red where the whip gripped it.

Volcanica roared in pain and shook its head violently. Subaru held on, using the momentum to swing himself upward. At the apex of his arc, he released the whip and summoned every Invisible Providence hand he could manage—twenty, the absolute maximum, pushing far beyond what should be safe.

The hands grabbed onto various parts of Volcanica's body and pulled, trying to destabilize the dragon's flight. At the same time, Subaru activated his Authority, compressing the space around Volcanica's wings specifically, making it harder for them to generate lift.

The combined assault worked. Volcanica's flight faltered, and the massive dragon began to descend. Subaru landed on the creature's back, his feet finding purchase between scales, and immediately drove his scorpion-tailed whip downward, trying to find a gap in the armor.

Volcanica twisted in midair, and suddenly Subaru was riding a living tornado. He clung desperately to his whip, which was still embedded between scales, as the dragon spun and rolled. The world became a dizzying blur - Then Volcanica crashed into the floor, deliberately rolling to crush whatever was on its back.

Subaru released his hold at the last second and used an Invisible Providence hand to yank himself clear. He hit the ground hard, rolled, and came up bleeding from a dozen small cuts. But he was still grinning.

"That all you got, lizard?" he called out, his voice slightly manic.

Volcanica struggled to its feet, and for the first time, Subaru saw an expression change in its face ever since the fight began. The dragon was looking at him now, really looking at him.

And Subaru saw his opportunity.

He charged forward, whip trailing behind him as Polaris blazed at his shoulder. Volcanica's tail swept in from the left - Subaru expanded the space around it, making it miss by centimeters. Its right claw swiped down - Invisible Providence hands caught it and diverted it slightly off course. Its jaws opened for another breath - Subaru threw everything he had into one final spatial manipulation. The space around Volcanica's open mouth compressed violently, then expanded, then compressed again, creating a wave of distortion that traveled up the dragon's throat. The breath attack building there destabilized, backfiring, and Volcanica's eyes went wide with pain as its own breath crashed into its mouth.

In that moment of vulnerability, Subaru's whip, extended to its maximum length and burning with the full force of Polaris's power, wrapped around Volcanica's neck. Fifteen Invisible Providence hands grabbed onto the dragon's limbs and tail. And Subaru's Authority of Greed created overlapping layers of spatial compression around the dragon's body, not strong enough to hurt something with Volcanica's durability, but enough to restrict movement.

"Yield," Subaru panted, blood streaming down his face, his entire body shaking with exhaustion. "Please. I don't want to hurt you anymore."

For a long moment, Volcanica remained still, testing the restraints. The dragon could probably break free if it really tried, but Subaru had proven he could make that process painful and difficult.

Then, slowly, the distant fog in Volcanica's golden eyes began to clear. Awareness flooded back into them, true awareness, and the dragon's entire demeanor changed. The aggressive tension melted away, replaced by something gentle and almost regretful.

"Thou..." Volcanica's voice, when it came, was different from before. Still majestic, still ancient, but warm and conscious. "Mine old friend, I nearly struck thee down. For this transgression, I must offer mine deepest apologies."

Subaru released his hold immediately, his whip uncoiling as the Invisible Providence hands dissipated. He staggered back, exhausted beyond measure, but unable to stop smiling. "You're... you're actually talking to me? Really talking?"

"Aye," Volcanica confirmed, lowering its massive head to look at Subaru more closely. "'Tis good to see thee again, Flugel. Though I must confess, thou dost appear somewhat different than I recall."

"That's because I'm not - " Subaru started, then stopped himself. The automatic denial died in his throat as he looked into Volcanica's wise, knowing eyes.

"Master! Master, you did it!" Shaula's voice rang out as she suddenly appeared beside him, having apparently overcome her fear in her excitement. "Master beat the stupid dragon! Master is the best! The most amazing! The absolutely perfect Master who - "

"The lizard is not stupid, impudent child," Volcanica interrupted, though there was warmth in the rebuke. Then the dragon's eyes focused on Shaula with clear recognition. "Though I suppose some things never change. Tell me, young Shaula, hath Flugel once again had an unfortunate encounter with a lavatory fixture?"

Shaula's face lit up like a sunrise. "Yes! Yes, exactly! Master has been insisting he's not Flugel ever since he came back! Shaula thinks he hit his head super hard this time!"

"I did not hit my head on a toilet!" Subaru protested, but his objection was halfhearted. He was too busy trying to process the surreal nature of this conversation and the implications of not only Shaula but Volcanica calling him Flugel.

"Denial is the first sign, you," came a new voice, lazy and mocking.

Subaru spun around to find Reid Astrea leaning against one of the chamber's pillars, chopsticks tucked behind his ear like always. That shark-like grin was firmly in place, blue eye gleaming with amusement.

"You," Subaru said, half accusatory, half grateful. He wanted to yell at Reid for all those brutal beatings, for every time he'd been called trash, for every single one of those eighty-plus near-death beatings. But the words caught in his throat because despite everything, he was thankful. Reid had taught him, had pushed him, had made him strong enough to stand here now.

"Yeah, me," Reid drawled. "Look at ya now, Whip Slasher, you. Actually managed to not embarass yaself for once, you. I'm almost proud, you."

Heat flooded Subaru's face as the nickname he'd given Reid in a moment of panicked creativity came back to haunt him. "Don't call me that."

"Why not, you? You're the one who gave yaself that name first, remember, ya? 'If you're the Stick Swinger, then I'm the Whip Slasher,' you," Reid's grin widened impossibly. "Worst trash talk I ever heard, but it was your trash talk, so I'm keepin' it, you."

"Master, protect Shaula from this lecherous bastard!" Shaula immediately ducked behind Subaru, peeking out at Reid with exaggerated fear. "He's going to say and something inappropriate! He always does! Master, please!"

"Lecherous, you?" Reid looked genuinely offended. "I ain't said nothin' inappropriate yet, you. Ya just pre-judgin' me based on past actions, you."

"Past action that was consistently lecherous!" Shaula countered.

Volcanica made a sound that might have been a chuckle, deep and resonant. "Hath thou come to try mine flesh once more Reid?"

Reid almost looked offended at the question - "I have come to taste better things than ya meat lizard". Like women and booze, thought Reid.

"How familiar this feels. How much like the old days, when we all - " The dragon paused, as melancholy entered its voice. "When almost all of us would gather thus."

As if summoned by those words, darkness began to seep into around the chamber. The temperature dropped. Frost crept across the stone floor in delicate patterns. And from that darkness, a figure began to emerge.

Yin magic swirled in the air, visible as purple-black energy that seemed to devour light itself. The shadows condensed, took form, and Satella stepped out of them like she was walking through a doorway between worlds.

As usual, she was breathtaking. Silver hair cascaded down her back, moving as if in an unfelt breeze. Her black dress with orange ornaments seemed woven from the darkness itself, its edges indistinct, bleeding into the shadows that clung to her like a living cloak. The yin magic that surrounded her was terrifying in its intensity, power that could unmake reality with a thought.

But from her shroud, she looked up, and her violet eyes found Subaru's. The terrifying aura vanished, replaced by pure, unrestrained joy. Her face broke into a brilliant smile that could have lit up the entire tower.

"Subaru!" 

She ran toward him, and Subaru found himself frozen, devoid of any conscious thought. She collided with, engulfing him in a hug that drove the breath from his lungs, Satella's arms wrapping around him with desperate strength. Subaru momentarlly unfreezing from his shock immediately hugged her back just as tightly, confused but undeniably happy to see her.

"How?" he managed to gasp out. "How are you here?"

Satella pulled back just enough to look at his face, her smile never wavering. "I accumulated enough mana to manifest outside the seal for a few minutes. It's temporary, but I had to come. I had to see you. All of you are here. I.. I thought this would never happen again. I could not just stay and watch any longer".

"But the seal - "

"Was created with yin magic," Satella interrupted, and there was something almost smug in her expression. "Perhaps sealing the master of yin magic with yin magic wasn't the brightest idea someone had."

"'Tis good to see thee, daughter," Volcanica rumbled. "Even if thy visit must needs be brief."

"These two lovebirds at it again, you," Reid commented dryly. "Some things never change, you."

"Satella onee-sama!" Shaula bounded over, her earlier fear forgotten in her excitement. "Shaula missed you so much! Master came back but then he hit his head and forgot everything and it's been very confusing!"

"I can imagine," Satella said, laughing as she released one arm from around Subaru to embrace Shaula as well. "I've missed you too, Shaula. All of you."

Subaru stood there, one arm still around Satella, looking at the gathered group. Volcanica watching with warm golden eyes. Reid leaning against his pillar with that insufferable grin. Shaula beaming with pure happiness, sometimes shooting glares at Reid as she wanted him to disappear from the face of the earth. And Satella, pressed against his side, radiating pure joy.

Warmth once more bloomed in Subaru's chest. A feeling of belonging so intense it was almost painful. He didn't understand it, couldn't explain it, but standing here with them, the legendary swordsman, this enthusiastic apprentice, this beautiful and terrifying witch and the Divine Dragon, it all felt right. 

He found himself grinning, unable to stop even if he wanted to. This was insane. This entire situation was completely, utterly insane. But he didn't care.

Then his eyes caught on Satella's face, and the smile faltered slightly. "Satella. Can you please tell them to stop calling me Flugel? They won't listen to me."

Satella's expression crumpled with guilt. She looked away, unable to meet his eyes. "I... I can't do that, Subaru."

"Why not?"

"Because," she said softly, her voice barely above a whisper, "that would be like denying the truth."

The words hit Subaru like a physical blow. His retort died unspoken, anger flaring for a moment before sputtering out. Because he couldn't ignore reality anymore, could he? Shaula recognized him by scent, something impossible to fake as she called it. Volcanica had called him old friend and Flugel with complete certainty. Reid had trained him like he knew exactly what Subaru was capable of becoming. And Satella...

Satella had held him back in the Shadow Garden like it was something she'd been waiting centuries to do.

The evidence was overwhelming. The only person still in denial was him.

"What troubles thee so, mine friend?" Volcanica asked gently. "Speak thy heart."

Subaru wanted to brush it off, to fake a smile and change the subject. But everyone was looking at him with such genuine concern that he couldn't maintain the facade. His shoulders sagged.

"How can you all look at me like that?" The words burst out of him, raw and pained. "How can you smile at me when I don't even remember you? When I abandoned you?" 

His voice cracked. "Didn't my so-called friends do the same thing to me after Gluttony ate my name? They forgot me, couldn't remember anything we'd been through together. They abandoned me to rot, in a cell with a psycopath healer who used his gift for torture and pain. How am I any better than them if I did the exact same thing to all of you?"

He turned to Shaula, his eyes burning. "You waited four hundred years. Four hundred years alone in this tower, and I...I".

"Master", Shaula started, but Subaru wasn't finished.

"What kind of monster forgets the people who cared about him? What kind of person abandons his friends and doesn't even remember doing it?"

The silence that followed was heavy. Subaru stood there, trembling, waiting for judgment, for confirmation that yes, he was exactly as terrible as he felt.

"Ya done bein' a twat, you?" Reid's voice cut through the tension.

Subaru's head snapped toward him. "What?"

"I asked if ya done bein' a twat, you," Reid repeated, pushing off from his pillar. "Cause that's what ya bein' right now, you. A complete and total twat, you."

"How is this - "

"It ain't ya choice whether people love ya or not, you," Reid interrupted, his single blue eye boring into Subaru. "Ya don't get to decide if ya worthy of it, you. Ya don't get to decide if ya earned it, you. People feel what they feel, and they ain't gonna stop just cause ya start whinin' about not deservin' it, you."

He walked closer, and despite the harsh words, there was something almost gentle in his expression. "And everybody fucks up, you. Everybody fails the people they care about, you. The difference between trash and not-trash ain't whether ya make mistakes, you. It's whether ya let those mistakes define ya, or whether ya stand back up and keep tryin', you."

"Master is Master," Shaula said firmly, moving to Subaru's other side. "Shaula loves Master no matter what. Whether Master remembers or not doesn't change that."

"If... if anyone should be blamed..." Satella's voice was thick with tears. Subaru turned to find her crying, her violet eyes overflowing. "If anyone deserves to be called a monster, it's me. I caused so much death, so much destruction. I nearly destroyed the world. Everything that happened, all the pain everyone endured - that was my fault. Not yours."

"No." Subaru grabbed her shoulders, his voice fierce. "Don't you dare. Don't you dare apologize for not being able to control the monstosity of a witch factor. Don't you dare apologize for being so selfless and kind, so fully incapable of envy that it had to manifest as a different entity in you."

"But - "

"No buts." Subaru pulled her into a tight hug, feeling her shake against him. "You are not the Witch of Envy. You're Satella. You're the person who's been trying to keep me safe all this time, despite fighting a war inside your own mind. You're the person who held me in the Shadow Garden and apologized for things that weren't even your fault. Don't you ever, ever apologize for that monster's actions again."

Satella made a small, broken sound and buried her face in his shoulder. Subaru held her tighter, one hand coming up to stroke her silver hair. He felt her tears soaking through his jacket, felt her arms clutching at him like he was her only anchor to the world.

"I love you," she whispered against his shoulder, so quietly he almost didn't hear it. "I love you so much it hurts. Four hundred years and not one moment I could ever stop loving you."

Subaru's breath caught. He opened his mouth, not sure what he was going to say, but knowing he needed to say something - 

"Master is making Satella onee-sama cry again," Shaula observed. "Master really did hit his head hard if he forgot how to comfort people properly."

The tension broke slightly. Satella let out a watery laugh, and Subaru felt his lips twitch into a reluctant smile.

"I suppose," Shaula continued thoughtfully, "Master was always a bit stupid. Remember that time Master didn't realize Satella onee-sama was trying to confess and thought she was just talking about the stars?"

"That was one time!" Satella protested, pulling back from Subaru just enough to wipe her eyes. "And the stars were relevant to what I was saying!"

"'Tis a clear night with many stars, much like mine feelings for thee,'" Volcanica quoted in a surprisingly good impression of Satella's voice. "And Flugel's response was -"

"'Yeah, it would be great to build a telescope to see them better - the next project we should start" Reid finished, quoting in also very similar Subaru-soundning voice. "Completely oblivious, you. It was painful to watch, you."

Subaru felt his face burning. "That sounds exactly like something I would do."

"It was exactly something you did," Satella confirmed, but she was smiling now, the tears still falling but mixed with genuine amusement. "Multiple times. I was very patient."

"Very, very patient," Shaula agreed. "I love master very much but even I would have been tired after so many tries."

"Shaula gave up after three attempts to explain what a metaphor was, you," Reid pointed out.

"That's different! Master was being very stupid about metaphors on purpose! With Satella onee-sama, he was reaaaally stupid without trying!"

As they bickered, Subaru felt the heavy mood lifting. He was still holding Satella, her warmth pressed against him, and he found he didn't want to let go. The confusion and guilt were still there, but they were smaller and less overwhelming.

"Hey," he said suddenly, wanting to change the subject entirely. "Where did the name Flugel even come from?." - Subaru knew it meant wings, but he wanted some context behind the name.

Everyone immediately brightened. Reid actually started laughing, a full belly laugh that echoed through the chamber. Satella began giggling against Subaru's chest. Shaula turned bright red and started whistling innocently while studying the ceiling. Even Volcanica's eyes twinkled with amusement.

"It can't be that funny, right?" - Subaru could only ask in confusion.

"Oh, it absolutely is," Satella managed between giggles. She pulled back to look at his face, her tears forgotten - "You were obsessed with the idea of human flight, so we decided to build wings." Satella's smile was fond. "We were working on a Murak spell that could permanently stick to an object without actively feeding it Yin magic. You were really determined to make functional wings."

"That actually sounds kind of cool," Subaru admitted.

"It was cool!" Satella agreed. "But you had zero creativity when it came to naming things—"

"Hey!"

"-So you called the project 'Vogel.' Which apparently means 'bird' in some language from your world."

Subaru felt recognition stirring. "German. It means bird in German."

"Yes! So the Vogel project." Satella was fully grinning now. "But then you got sick one day. Really sick, with this terrible flu. You were completely miserable, stuck in bed, and Shaula was taking care of you."

All eyes turned to Shaula, who had somehow become even more red. She refused to meet anyone's gaze.

"Shaula was young and inexperienced," Volcanica continued the story. "And she did not understand the nature of thy project with Satella."

"She burst into my workshop in a panic," Satella picked up the tale. "Asking if we had 'Master's Flu-gel ready yet because Master was very sick and needed the gel right away!'" And she was so sincere about it, so worried".

"It doesn't end there," Reid jumped in, clearly enjoying this,

"What do you mean?" Subaru asked, dreading the answer.

"Shaula went and introduced you to Alec Hoshin, another one thine's apprentice as 'Master Flugel,' Volcanica finished. "And Hoshin, thinking it was thine actual name, began addressing thy as such. By the time the misunderstanding was discovered, the name had already spread."

Subaru stared at Shaula, who looked like she wanted the floor to swallow her whole. "You accidentally named me after a supposed flu-curing gel".

"It was an honest mistake!" Shaula squeaked. "Shaula was young and didn't understand complex magical projects yet!"

"'Twas rather adorable, in truth," Volcanica said. "Thy determination to find medicine for Flugel's ailment was most touching."

"And hilarious, you," Reid added. "Especially when ya decided you actually liked the name and refused to correct anybody, you."

"Wait, I kept it on purpose?" Subaru asked.

"You thought it was funny," Satella said, her giggles finally subsiding. "You said if people were going to give you a name based on a misunderstanding, you might as well commit to the bit. Very you, honestly."

Subaru couldn't help it. He started laughing. The absurdity of it, the sheer ridiculous nature of his legendary name's origin, was too much. He laughed until his sides hurt, until tears ran down his face, until he had to lean against Satella for support.

"I'm named after flu gel, a fucking gel," he gasped out between laughs. "The Great Sage Flugel. Named after flu gel. Oh my god."

"Master!" Shaula wailed. "Stop laughing! It's embarrassing!"

"It's perfect," Subaru managed. "It's the most ridiculous thing I've ever heard".

"'Twas ever thus with thee," Volcanica observed warmly. "Finding joy in the absurd, humor in the chaos."

The laughter eventually subsided, leaving everyone with grins and lighter hearts. But as it faded, Subaru noticed something. Satella's form was becoming translucent at the edges, her solid presence starting to waver.

"Satella?" Panic crept into his voice.

"I know." Her smile turned sad. "My time is running out. I can't maintain this manifestation much longer."

The mood plummeted instantly. Everyone could see it now - how Satella was slowly fading, returning to the seal that held her.

"No," Subaru said, his grip on her tightening. "Not yet. You just got here."

"I know," Satella repeated, her voice breaking. "I don't want to go. I never want to leave you."

"How long until you can come back?" Subaru demanded. "How long until you accumulate enough mana again?"

"Decades," Satella whispered.

"That's not acceptable." Subaru's mind raced desperately. "There has to be another way. There has to be - "

"Thou couldst form a contract with her," Volcanica suggested gently.

Subaru and Satella both turned to stare at the dragon.

"A contract?" Subaru repeated.

"Aye. A spirit contract, similar to what thou hast with young Polaris there." Volcanica's golden eyes moved between them. "Though Satella is not precisely a spirit, the principles would be similar. It would create a bond that would allow her to manifest more easily, to exist partially outside the seal through thy connection."

Hope surged in Subaru's chest. "Why didn't I think of that? Why didn't anyone mention this before?"

"Would that work? Could we do that?"

Satella's eyes were wide, her translucent form trembling. "I... yes. Yes, it should work. But Subaru, you need to understand what you'd be binding yourself to. A contract with me means -"

"I don't care," Subaru interrupted. He had once been offered a contract by Echidna and that almost doomed him to life full of pain and misery, life reduced to being a lab rat for a greedy witch. This time Subaru did not care. "I don't care about the technicalities or the risks or whatever warnings you're about to give me. I just care about not losing you again."

"But - "

"Do you want this?" Subaru asked directly. "Do you want to form a contract with me?"

Satella's breath hitched. "More than anything," she whispered. "But I can't ask you to - "

"You're not asking. I'm offering." Subaru's hands cupped her face, tilting it up so she had to meet his eyes. "How do we do this?"

"It's a simple invocation," Satella said, her voice shaking. "A declaration of intent. You say: 'I, Natsuki Subaru, freely and in sound mind, wish to form a contract with the Witch of Envy Satella.'"

"And you?"

"I repeat the same for you."

"That's it?"

"That's it. Though..." Satella hesitated. "We can shake hands on it after. It's not necessary, but it reinforces the power of the contract. Truly, it's just the word and intent behind them that matters."

Subaru's heart was pounding. This was reckless, probably insane, definitely not something he should do without thinking it through more carefully. But looking at Satella's fading form, at the tears gathering in her violet eyes, he knew he didn't care about any of that.

"I, Natsuki Subaru," he began, his voice clear and firm, "freely and in sound mind, wish to form a contract with the Witch of Envy Satella."

Power rippled through the air. Satella gasped, her form solidifying slightly.

"I, Witch of Envy Satella," she said, her voice trembling but steady, "freely and in sound mind, wish to form a contract with Natsuki Subaru."

The power intensified, forming visible threads of silver and black that wound between them. The air crackled with magic, and Subaru felt contract settle into his chest, warm and right as a crystal appeared on his neck. Satella extended her hand toward him.

Subaru looked at her offered hand. Then he grinned, that same wild grin from the battle with Volcanica.

"Well," he said, "I know one stronger way to reinforce it."

"What - " Satella started to ask, her head tilting in adorable confusion.

Subaru kissed her.

Time stopped. The world narrowed to just the two of them, to the sensation of Satella's lips against his, soft and warm and perfect. For a heartbeat, she was frozen in complete shock.

Then she was kissing him back with desperate, eager intensity, four hundred years of longing pouring into her lips. Her hands came up to tangle in his hair, pulling him closer. Subaru's arms wrapped around her waist, holding her tight against him as the kiss deepened.

The contract magic exploded around them, silver and black threads becoming a vortex of power that lit up the entire chamber. But neither of them noticed. They were lost in each other, in this moment they'd both wanted without fully realizing how much.

When they finally broke apart, both breathing hard, they were grinning at each other with pure joy and love, completely lost in their own world.

"Well, you," Reid's voice broke through their bubble, "maybe hittin' his head on that toilet wasn't so bad after all, you. Ya got some boldness now, you."

There was clear approval in his tone, and Subaru felt his face flush bright red. Satella was blushing too, but she couldn't seem to stop smiling or looking at Subaru's face.

"Master is very bold!" Shaula observed gleefully. "Shaula approves!"

"Thou hast ever had excellent timing," Volcanica said with what might have been a draconic smile.

But Satella's attention was entirely on Subaru. Her form was fading faster now, nearly transparent, but her smile was radiant. "I have to go," she whispered. "The seal is pulling me back."

"Satella.." Subaru's arms tightened around her.

"I love you," Satella said, tears streaming down her fading face. "I love you so much. Four hundred years wasn't enough to stop loving you."

The words were out of Subaru's mouth before he could think about them, but they felt true, undeniably true: "I love you too."

Satella's eyes went impossibly wide. She stared at him like he'd just given her the entire world. "You... you mean..."

"I mean it," Subaru confirmed, his voice firm despite his own shock at the declaration. "I don't remember our past. But right now, in this moment, I know I love you. Maybe it's insane, maybe it's too fast, but it's true."

"Subaru," Satella breathed, and she looked like she might shatter from too much happiness.

"The soul remembers," Subaru said, quoting her own words back to her. "You told me that. Maybe I don't remember with my mind, but my soul knows. My soul has always known. And no matter what, no matter how long it takes to recover my memories, I promise I will never forget this. I will never forget you again."

Satella was openly sobbing now, but her smile was brilliant enough to eclipse the sun. "The soul remembers," she echoed. "Oh, Subaru. I waited four hundred years, and it was worth it. Every second was worth it for this moment."

And then she was gone, vanished back into the seal that held her. The chamber felt colder without her presence, emptier, but Subaru could still feel the warmth of the contract in his chest. The connection between them, newly forged, thrumming with power.

"She'll be able to visit more easily now," Volcanica said gently. "The contract provides a tether. 'Twill not be as long before thou seest her again."

"Good," Subaru said quietly. "That's good."

Shaula bounced over and wrapped her arms around him from behind. "Master did amazing! Master was so cool! Master made Satella onee-sama so happy!"

"Yeah," Subaru agreed, allowing himself to smile. "Yeah, I think I did."

"Still trash at namin' things though, you," Reid observed. "Whip Slasher, Seriously, you."

"It was under pressure!" Subaru protested, but he was laughing.

The chamber slowly returned to normal and Subaru looked around at his companions - Volcanica watching with warm golden eyes, Reid leaning against his pillar with that insufferable grin, Shaula hugging him tight, Polaris chirping happily on his shoulder.

This was his family. He didn't remember how they'd become his family, but standing here in this moment, he knew it was true.

And with complete certainty, he knew that he would do anything, absolutely anything to keep it like that.

Chapter Text

The dunes stretched endlessly before them, an ocean of crimson sand that rippled like waves frozen in time. Each step forward sent cascades of fine particles sliding down the slopes, the grains catching the afternoon light and glittering like scattered rubies. The expedition moved in a careful formation, with Reinhard taking point, his distinctive red hair a beacon against the monochromatic landscape.

"Betty thinks this is tolerable, I suppose," Beatrice announced, her small form hovering slightly above the sand rather than trudging through it. Around the group, a faint shimmer of protective magic undulated against miasma waves, keeping the more aggressive elements of the dunes at bay. "Though Betty must remind everyone that maintaining this barrier is not easy, in fact."

Emilia walked close beside her contracted spirit, one hand raised as if to touch the protective field. "Thank you for your hard work, Beako. Please don't hesitate to draw on my mana whenever you need it. I have more than enough to spare."

"Betty is well aware of your excessive mana capacity," Beatrice replied with a hint of exasperation, though her tone carried an underlying warmth. "If anything, the problem is moderating the flow so Betty doesn't become overwhelmed, I suppose".

Julius, walking a few paces behind, allowed himself a slight smile at the exchange. His purple hair was tied back to keep it from his face, and his knight's uniform had been modified for desert travel, though he still maintained an air of pristine dignity despite their surroundings.

"Ram agrees that Beatrice-sama's magic is adequate," Ram interjected, her pink hair somehow managing to look immaculate despite the dry air and sand. She walked with her characteristic grace, as if she were strolling through a garden rather than a hostile desert. "Though Ram notes that if the great Roswaal-sama were present, such concerns would be entirely unnecessary. Ram's Roswaal-sama could manage this with a mere fraction of his attention."

"The conditions have been surprisingly favorable," Julius observed, his golden eyes scanning the horizon. "Beyond having to taste sand at every breath, we've encountered minimal resistance. The journey has been far safer than initial reports suggested it might be. And there has been no signs of any archbishops or cult activity so far."

"That's because -" Emilia began, but her words were cut short by a sudden rumbling beneath their feet.

The sand erupted twenty feet ahead of them. Speak of the devil - thought Julius. A massive segmented form burst from the dunes, its body easily fifteen meters in length, covered in chitinous plates that gleamed wetly despite the arid environment. It was followed immediately by a second creature, then a third, each earthworm-like monstrosity opening circular maws lined with rings of teeth that rotated like some nightmarish drill.

"Sandworms!" Anastasia yelped, stumbling backward.

The creatures barely had time to orient themselves toward the group before Reinhard moved. There was no dramatic flourish, no battle cry, with just a fluid motion that was almost too fast to perceive his slashed his hands through the creatures: The first worm split vertically, its halves falling to either side with wet thuds. The second was bisected horizontally at three points simultaneously, its segments collapsing like a demolished tower. The third never even completed its emergence from the sand before it simply ceased movement, a single perfect line appearing across what would have been its skull.

The entire encounter lasted three seconds.

"My apologies for the disturbance. Please continue."

Julius's smile shifted into something more wry, one eyebrow raised in amusement. "I believe I may have spoken too soon about the minimal resistance. Though I should have been more precise - the journey appears safe specifically because of who's accompanying us".

"Ya could say that again," Anastasia muttered, her heart still racing from the sudden appearance of the creatures. "Though I'll admit, it's right comfortin' to know we've got someone who can handle beasties like that without breakin' a sweat."

"Reinhard is very cool isnt't he," Emilia agreed, though she was looking at the remains of the creatures with concern. "Still, we should remain cautious. If there are three of them here, there might be more elsewhere."

"Betty thinks you all worry too much, I suppose," Beatrice chimed in, though she had to exert herself more after Reinhard lost control over his mana inflow. She tightened the protective barrier reflexively during the brief encounter. "With Betty's magic and everyone else's competence, we will reach the watchtower without significant difficulty, in fact."

They continued onward, the conversation shifting to lighter topics as they traversed the undulating landscape. Anastasia shared a story about a merchant's negotiation gone awry, which prompted Julius to recount a diplomatic incident from his early days as a knight. Even Ram contributed, though her anecdotes invariably circled back to Roswaal's superiority in whatever domain was being discussed.

The sun began its descent toward the horizon, painting the crimson dunes in shades of deep burgundy and orange.

"We're approaching the Sand Time now," Anastasia announced, her merchant's instincts for timing and distance proving accurate. "If the reports are right, we should be experiencing' its effect soon."

Beatrice's expression grew more serious. "Betty has been monitoring the spacetime distortions, in fact. The closer we get to the Pleiades Watchtower's theoretical location, the more pronounced the temporal inconsistencies become, I suppose."

"Temporal inconsistencies?" Emilia echoed, her violet eyes widening with concern. "What does that mean exactly?"

It was of course Eridna, speaking through Anastasia's dormant body ever since the battle of Priestella that answered - "The watchtower exists in a state of time-space distortion. Think of it as a bubble outside the normal flow of time, the tower is isolated".

As Anastasia finished speaking, intense sand storm erupted around them completely covering the sky and surrounding, carrying intense amount of miasma that crushed into Beatrice's protective shield with intensity of a roaring lion trying to catch its prey. She could not help but shiver.

As the storm intensified the shimmering distortion of spacetime materialised in front of it. Emilia immediately created a dome of a crystaline, see-through ice that covered them from the physical effects of the sand-time, while Beatrice continued holding her shield against the ever-increasing miasma. Reinhard had to consciously suppress his intake of mana, to not destabilise the two powerful spells Emilia and Beatrice had employed.

"Can ya break it?" - Anastasia asked Beatrice, looking at her inquisitively.

"Betty can, I suppose," Beatrice confirmed, though she sounded somewhat uncertain. "The EMT spell should be sufficient to negate the paradox loop, in fact".

"But?" Julius prompted when she trailed off.

"Betty will require significant mana, and more importantly, Betty will need certain individuals to distance themselves, I suppose." She turned her gaze directly to Reinhard, who did not look surprised at being singled out. "No offense is intended, in fact, but the Sword Saint's hunger for mana is disorienting for Betty, in fact".

Reinhard nodded immediately, his understanding clear. "Of course. How far should I withdraw?"

"Betty estimates two hundred meters should suffice, in fact. Perhaps take knight with you and scout the perimeter, I suppose. Make certain nothing attempts to interfere while Betty is concentrating."

Julius and Reinhard exchanged glances, then nodded in unison. "A sound tactical decision," Julius agreed. "We'll ensure your work proceeds uninterrupted, Lady Beatrice." 

Emilia mentally opened her shield at the rear and as the two men withdrew, their forms growing smaller against the darkening dunes, the remaining members of the expedition formed a loose circle around Beatrice. The small spirit descended until her feet touched the sand, her expression grave and focused.

Her hands already beginning to weave complex patterns in the air. 

Emilia stepped closer, her hand extended. "Take whatever mana you need, Beako. Don't hold back."

The connection between them flared to life, visible as threads of iridescent light flowing from Emilia to Beatrice. The sheer volume was staggering - most mages would have been overwhelmed in seconds, but Beatrice simply absorbed the torrent, her small body beginning to glow with accumulated power.

The sand around them began to vibrate, each grain moving in perfect synchronisation. The air grew thick, almost gelatinous, resisting movement like water. Emilia felt her hair standing on end, not from static but from the sheer density of magical energy being wielded.

Beatrice's hands moved faster now and then it was as if the reality itself had shattered. This was the only way to describe the sensation. For a heartbeat, everything felt wrong - up was down, forward was backward, and time itself seemed to hiccup. Colors inverted briefly before snapping back. The group felt simultaneously that hours had passed and that no time had elapsed at all.

Then, with a sound like glass breaking in reverse, shards assembling rather than shattering,  the temporal distortion slowly wobbled and the rift between the distortions opened away.

"Betty has done it, in fact!" Beatrice announced, though she swayed slightly, the effort clearly taxing despite Emilia's mana support. "The temporal displacement is negated, I suppose. The path to the Pleiades Watchtower is accessible."

As everyone entered past the distorted space, the sounds of the sand storm gave away to quiet swirling of sand. Air felt cleaner, atmosphere less tense and everyone simultaneously started dusting themselves of the accumulated sand. Reinhard and Julius were naturally the last to pierce the distorted spacetime.

Suddenly, against that sky, something moved.

At first, it seemed like a cloud - a massive, dark shape that occluded the stars just beginning to appear. But clouds didn't move with such purpose, didn't cut through the air with such precision. As the shape drew closer, details began to emerge.

"What in the world..." Emilia whispered, her hand moving to shade her eyes as she tried to make sense of what she was seeing.

Anastasia's composure cracked, genuine shock colouring her voice. "That's impossible. It can't be - "

"It is," Beatrice breathed, her exhaustion forgotten in the face of what approached. "Betty never thought to see such a thing, in fact."

The Divine Dragon Volcanica descended from the heavens like a god made manifest.

His wingspan stretched impossibly wide, each beat of those magnificent wings creating pressure waves that could be felt even at this distance. The dragon's scales caught the dying light, refracting it into rainbow cascades that painted the dunes below in shifting colors. The dragon embodied grace, power, and ancient majesty all at once.

Its eyes that glowed with inner light. Horns swept back from his skull in elegant curves, and a mane of what looked like silver fire flowed behind him as he flew. His scales were primarily silver-white, but they shifted through blues and purples.

"Is that..." Emilia couldn't finish the question, her voice lost to wonder.

"The Divine Dragon Volcanica," Ram confirmed, her tone carrying reverence and awe unusual for every-unflappable maid".

Both Julius and Reinhard had stopped their patrol, staring upward in equal astonishment. Julius's knightly composure had completely cracked, his hands swaying in animated gestures, excitement and awe colouring his expression.

The dragon's shadow passed over them, and despite the fading daylight, it darkened the landscape noticeably. His size was such that his shadow covered not just the expedition but the entire visible stretch of dunes, a darkness that moved with deliberate grace. The wind from his passage arrived seconds later, strong enough that they had to brace themselves against it.

"He's magnificent," Emilia said softly, her violet eyes reflecting the dragon's iridescent scales. "I've never seen anything so... majestic."

"Betty agrees, I suppose," Beatrice added, her earlier weariness forgotten in her awe. "Betty has existed for over four hundred years, in fact, and Betty has never witnessed anything comparable."

Julius came sprinting back to the group, his dignified bearing entirely abandoned in his enthusiasm. His face was flushed, his eyes bright with an almost childlike excitement that seemed at odds with his normally composed demeanor.

"Did you see?!" he practically shouted as he reached them, completely forgetting his usual formal speech patterns. "This is incredible! I can't believe on the way to meet the legendary Sage of the Pleiades Watchtower, we even witnessed the Divine Dragon himself!"

Anastasia could not help but grin at the usually composed knight's fanboying. Ever since Julius had lost his name, everyone could see how pained, subdued and hurt he was. To see him so excited, with happiness gleaming in his eyes made Anastasia's heart warm. "Easy there, Julius. Ya look like a kid who just got told he's goin' to the festival. Though I can't blame ya - that was quite the sight."

Emilia also smiled at his enthusiasm, finding it endearing. "I understand Julius. I'd be lying if I said I wasn't a little excited myself".

Julius had finally realised how unbecomming of a knight he was acting and immediately felt his face explode into a fierce blush - " He caught himself, taking a deep breath. "My apologies Emilia-sama, Anastasia-sama. I.. I'm behaving rather unprofessionally."

"Ram thinks the knight's enthusiasm is somewhat amusing, though Ram understands the sentiment," Ram said, a tiny smile playing at her lips. "Even Ram admits that meeting such legendary figures would be noteworthy".

Reinhard rejoined them, walking with his characteristic calm, though there was something in his eyes - a distant, thoughtful quality. Unlike Julius, his excitement was internalised, manifesting as quiet intensity rather than open enthusiasm.

"Did you see something, Reinhard?" Emilia asked, noting his expression.

Reinhard hesitated, his enhanced vision replaying what he'd observed. When the dragon had passed directly overhead, he'd seen what looked like two distinct silhouettes riding upon the divine being's back. He could barely make out their shapes, they seemed to be humans.

But he couldn't be certain of what he'd seen. The distance, the speed, the failing light - any of these could have caused his eyes to deceive him. And making claims about impossible things without certainty seemed unwise.

"Just admiring the dragon's magnificence," Reinhard replied diplomatically. "It's not every day one witnesses the Divine Dragon in flight."

The group stood in contemplative silence for a moment, watching as Volcanica's form grew smaller against the darkening sky, heading away from the watchtower that must now be visible on the horizon. Everyone wondered where exactly the Divine Dragon was going, and Julius was about to voice the question openly to the group, but Beatrice broke the reverie. "As impressive as this sighting has been, Betty points out that we still have a destination to reach, I suppose. Standing here gawking is pointless, in fact."

"Beako's right," Emilia agreed, though she cast one last glance at the sky. "We should keep moving while we still have some daylight left."

As they resumed their trek, their path brought them to an unexpected sight. The flat expanse of dunes gave way to a massive crater, easily two hundred meters in diameter and perhaps thirty meters deep at its center. The impact had transformed the crimson sand into glass in places, creating patches that caught the light like polished mirrors.

"What could have caused this?" Emilia wondered aloud, approaching the crater's edge carefully.

"Ram suggests the Divine Dragon's landing might create such an effect," Ram offered. "Though Ram notes this crater appears old, based on how the sand has already begun to reclaim the edges."

They were so focused on examining the crater that they almost missed the movement among the Crimson Flowers that dotted its slopes - unusual vegetation that somehow thrived in this hostile environment, their deep red petals almost black in the fading light.

Reinhard's hand went to his sword hilt instantly. "Courtesan bears!", he said in alarm, easily hundreds of them.

The creatures emerged from their hiding places among the flowers, massive ursine forms covered in thick, reddish fur that helped them blend with the environment. Each stood easily five meters on all fours, with claws that looked capable of bending steel. Their small eyes gleamed with predatory intelligence as they sized up the expedition.

Julius had already drown his sword. "Reinhard and I can handle this."

What followed could barely be called a battle. It was more akin to a natural disaster that descended on the dunes. Julius moved with elegant precision, his blade finding the gaps in the bears' natural armor with unerring accuracy. Beams of Jiwald vaporised whichever Bear Julius had not already slashed with his sword. Each strike was measured, economical, wasting no motion or energy. He danced between the creatures like water flowing around stones, always moving, never stopping.

Reinhard's approach was even more absolute. Wherever he walked, the corpse of a courtesan bear would be left behind in just a moment, having been slashed with a bare twitch of his hand. The fight could have ended much sooner, but he could not afford gathering mana while Beatrice was still holding the shield around them.

It did not matter much. Within three minutes, the dunes were silent again. The bears lay still, their threat neutralised with minimal effort. Reinhard and Julius stood among the fallen creatures, barely winded, their clothes not even dusty from the encounter.

"Well," Anastasia said into the silence, "that was... thorough."

Everyone could only watch and admire the precision and the beauty of the knights as they carved the way towards The Pleiades Watchtower. The said tower rose in front of them the like a pillar connecting earth to heaven. Its architecture was unlike anything they had seen before - elegant spirals of white stone that seemed to glow with internal light, the side walls decorating the inner beam of wall as if they were clipped wings of an angel.

"We're very close," Julius breathed, his earlier enthusiasm returning.

"Betty supposes we should stop standing around like tourists, in fact," Beatrice said, though even she sounded impressed by the tower's majesty. "Betty suggests we actually enter before full night falls, I suppose."

They crossed the remaining distance in silence, each person lost in their own thoughts about what they might find within. The tower's entrance was a massive arch easily ten meters high, seemingly designed for beings much larger than humans.

The interior was cool, almost refreshing after the desert's miasma-induced suffocating atmosphere. Their footsteps echoed in the vast entrance hall, the acoustics suggesting the space was even larger than it appeared. Soft light emanated from the walls themselves, gentle and even, casting no shadows.

"Well now, ain't this somethin'," Anastasia said, examining the light sources. "This here's ancient magic, far more sophisticated than what we got nowadays. The whole structure's sustainin' itself by drawin' in mana from the surroundings. Could theoretically keep runnin' forever without anyone needin' to lift a finger for maintenance."

They spent the next several hours methodically exploring the lower floors. The tower revealed its secrets slowly, each discovery more fascinating than the last. One thing was abundantly clear though, no matter how far they looked, no matter which room they explored there was no sight of the Great Sage Shaula. This had greatly confused everyone. The final and natural conclusion that they reached was that the Great Sage must be at the top of the water, perhaps even waiting for them to com to him.

As they continued to explore they naturally came upon The green or the moss room, as they came to call it. The chamber was suffused with verdant light that seemed to pulse gently, like a heartbeat. Vegetation grew impossibly within - flowers and vines that required no soil, drawing sustenance directly from the mana-rich air. More importantly, the moment they entered, minor aches and fatigue began to fade.

"Incredible," Julius murmured, flexing his hand and noting how a small cut from the bear encounter had already closed. "This is healing magic on a scale I've never encountered."

But the true prize was the library.

They found it on the third floor, through a door that seemed no different from dozens of others they'd passed. But when Julius pushed it open, they all stopped, struck speechless by what lay before them.

The library was infinite. That was the only way to describe it. Bookshelves stretched upward farther than eyes could see, disappearing into a ceiling so distant it might as well not exist. More shelves extended in every direction, creating corridors and alcoves and reading spaces that went on forever. The sheer number of books was incomprehensible - millions, certainly. Perhaps tens of millions.

"By all the spirits..." Emilia whispered, her voice lost in the vast space. "This is... I don't even have words."

"The entire collected knowledge of four centuries," Julius said, his voice thick with emotion. "Maybe longer. Everything the Sage Shaula would have observed, recorded, preserved. This is beyond price. This is..."

"This is exactly what we're needin'," Anastasia finished pragmatically, though even she couldn't help but be awed. "If there's a cure for that Archbishop Capella's authority anywhere, it'd be here. Same goes for Gluttony's victims."

"Betty suggests we begin our research, I suppose," Beatrice said, barely able to contain her own excitement. She had spent centuries guarding her own library, so the presence of so many books were disorienting, familiar and nostalgic. "Though Betty must warn that this will take considerable time, in fact. Even with all of us working, we could spend years here and not read everything."

"Then we'd better start now," Reinhard agreed, already moving toward a different section.

They spread out, each person gravitating toward different areas of the vast library. Julius selected a book at random, drawn by its unusual binding. He opened it carefully, conscious of its age, and began to read.

There was no text on the first pages.

He frowned, turning pages, still not finding even a single letter on it. He selected another book, then another. Each one of them was blank and pristine white.

"Is anyone else finding these books completely blank?" he called out, his frustration evident.

"Betty sees nothing but empty pages, in fact," Beatrice confirmed from several shelves away. "Every single one, I suppose."

"Same here," Anastasia called out. "Not a single word in any of 'em. Just blank pages through and through."

Emilia ran her fingers along the spines of books on her shelf, feeling oddly drawn to certain volumes without understanding why. "Maybe they're not meant to be read in the conventional sense? The tower has so much unusual magic..."

"Ram finds only blank pages as well," Ram announced. "No text, no illustrations. Nothing."

As the hours passed, frustration mounted. They could sense that crucial information surrounded them, yet remained tantalisingly out of reach.

In her search, Beatrice found herself drawn to a particular section, almost against her will. Her feet carried her to a shelf, and there among the uniform black spines, she found one with a title she could read: "The Witch of Greed - Echidna."

A book about her mother.

Beatrice's hands trembled as she reached for it. Every instinct screamed at her to walk away, to leave this particular truth undiscovered. But she'd been seeking truth for four centuries, and she couldn't stop now.

The moment her fingers touched the cover and she opened the book, the world fell away.

She was pulled into memories, not viewing them, but experiencing them. She experienced Echidna's birth, her first thoughts, her awakening to magic. She felt her mother's insatiable curiosity, the hunger for knowledge that grew from a spark into an all-consuming flame. She witnessed every experiment, every discovery, every moment of triumph and frustration.

And she experienced the moment of her own creation.

Through Echidna's eyes, through Echidna's thoughts, she lived through the moment when Echidna gave her a copy of the Book of Wisdom, the moment when her mother's instructions were laid out: wait in the Forbidden Library for "that person" to arrive and save her. She understood her mother's thought -  "It's a test. I want to know if she'll ever choose someone for herself, or if she'll rot in that library waiting for an impossibility. Will she exercise free will, or will she remain bound by the purpose I gave her? That's the curiosity that drives me."

Beatrice lived through Echidna's death, felt her mother's final thoughts. There was no message left for her, no words of comfort or explanation.

Echidna had loved knowledge more than she'd ever loved her daughter. The memories made that abundantly, painfully clear.

Beatrice came back to herself standing in the library, the book still in her hands, tears streaming down her face. The weight of four centuries - of waiting, of devotion, of absolute faith in a purpose that had never existed, crashed down upon her all at once.

"Betty..." she whispered to herself, her voice breaking. "Betty was never supposed to succeed, in fact. Betty's entire existence was a... was a..."

She couldn't finish the thought. Her hands loosened, the book falling from her grasp. She didn't watch it fall, didn't hear it hit the floor. Everything was static, white noise, the sound of a world ending in silence.

She needed to leave. Needed to be anywhere but here, with this book, with this truth. Beatrice fled down a hallway - any hallway - not caring where it led, just needing distance from the revelation that had torn her heart in two.

She found an alcove, small and secluded, and collapsed there. The tears came freely now, four centuries of suppressed pain expressing itself in wracking sobs that shook her small frame. She pressed her hands over her mouth, trying to muffle the sounds, not wanting anyone to hear, not wanting anyone to know.

But knowing, even as she did so, that she couldn't hide this. Couldn't pretend everything was fine.

Some time later, minutes or hours, she couldn't tell - she heard footsteps approaching. The others had apparently noticed her absence.

"There ya are," Anastasia's voice came from the main library. "We were startin' to worry - "

She stopped mid-sentence. They all did, as Beatrice emerged from the hallway. Even without seeing what she'd experienced, the change in her was visible. Her face was pale, her eyes red-rimmed and haunted. She moved like someone in shock, each step mechanical, as if she'd forgotten how her own body worked.

"Beatrice?" Emilia breathed, rushing forward. "What happened? Are you hurt?"

"Betty is..." Beatrice started, then stopped. What could she say? How could she explain? "Betty... overextended herself with the protection spell, I suppose. Betty needs to rest, in fact."

The lie was transparent. Everyone could see it was a lie. But Beatrice's expression, broken, desperate and pleading made it clear she couldn't talk about whatever had actually happened.

"Of course," Julius said gently, his voice carefully neutral. "We've all been pushing ourselves hard. Perhaps we should all rest for the evening and resume our research tomorrow."

"Ram agrees that rest would be advisable," Ram added. She wanted to see her sister again that they had left with the healing magic of the mossy room. Although her eyes never left Beatrice's face.

They didn't press for more and simply accepted the obvious lie and moved on, giving Beatrice the space she so clearly needed.

But Emilia felt a different kind of discomfort as they settled in for the evening. She'd noticed something during their journey from Mirula to the desert, something she'd been trying to ignore: she felt better, stronger, more energized.

The closer they got to the watchtower - the closer they got to where the Witch of Envy had been sealed - the more at ease she felt. It was as if the ambient miasma and its presence, were somehow nourishing rather than harmful. She thrived in an environment that should have been toxic.

What did that say about her? What did it mean that the Witch's presence made her feel more like herself than anywhere else?

She didn't want to think about it. Didn't want to examine what it might imply about her nature, the fears that plagued her deepest nightmares. So like Beatrice with her truth, Emilia chose to ignore hers.

Ram, watching everyone grapple with their private turmoil, felt a different kind of unease. The group functioned well enough together  - everyone was capable, competent, working toward common goals. But there was no cohesion, no real unity. They were individuals cooperating, not a team.

Something was missing. Someone was missing, though Ram couldn't quite articulate who or what. There should be someone here who could bridge the gaps between them, someone who could turn this collection of skilled individuals into a unified team. A person who could make Emilia laugh when she was drowning in dark thoughts, who could get Beatrice to open up instead of bottling everything inside, who could ground even the Sword Saint when his burden grew too heavy.

But whoever that person was, they weren't here.

The evening passed in uncomfortable silence, each person lost in their own thoughts. They made camp in the green room, its healing properties providing at least physical comfort if not emotional solace.

Morning came with renewed determination. They'd made a promise to explore the library more thoroughly, and they would keep it. But first, they needed to see what else the tower held.

"The stairs are this way," Julius announced, having found the main stairwell adjacent to the green room. He pulled open the door and immediately groaned. "Of course."

The stairway spiralled upward, seemingly forever. Each step was carved from the same luminescent white stone as the rest of the tower, but there were hundreds of them.

"Betty is not climbing all those stairs, in fact," Beatrice declared immediately. "Betty will float, I suppose."

"That seems like cheating," Anastasia joked, though she was eyeing the stairs with trepidation. "But I'll not complain if someone wants to carry me."

They began to climb.

And climb.

And climb.

"I wonder if it's part of the tower's defence," Reinhard mused, not even breathing hard. "Ensuring that only those with sufficient determination reach the higher levels."

"Or maybe the architect just really liked stairs," Anastasia panted.

Emilia, surprisingly, had taken on a new hobby, softly whispering to herself "two hundred and one, two hundred and two..."

"Are you counting them?" Julius asked, incredulous.

"It helps pass the time. Besides, when we go back down, I'll know exactly how many there are." Emilia defended herself.

Both Reinhard and Julius smiled at that, finding her earnest dedication oddly charming.

They finally reached a landing, all of them (except Beatrice and Reinhard) breathing heavily from the exertion.

"Four hundred and forty four," Emilia announced proudly.

"That's... very specific," Anastasia said between breaths. "And also way too many stairs."

The landing opened into a large chamber, circular and open, with a high ceiling that caught and amplified their voices. The room was dominated by a single feature: a sword, embedded in a pedestal at the chamber's center.

It was a beautiful weapon, with an elegant curve to its blade and a hilt wrapped in crimson cloth. The sword seemed to glow with inner light, pulsing gently like a heartbeat.

"Everyone stay back," Julius cautioned immediately, his knight's training asserting itself. "Until we understand what this is, we shouldn't touch anything."

"Ram agrees. This is clearly some kind of guardian or test," Ram added. "Touching it randomly would be foolish."

"I don't sense any hostile intent," Reinhard observed, though he too made no move toward the sword. "But caution is warranted nonetheless."

They circled the pedestal carefully, examining it from all angles. There were no visible inscriptions, no obvious warnings. The sword looked at them, patiently, almost mockingly.

"I suppose some has to touch it to find out what will happen," Julius concluded. "In which case, it should be me. As a knight, it's my duty to face danger first."

Before anyone could object, he stepped forward and placed his hand on the sword's hilt.

The chamber exploded with light.

When their vision cleared, someone new stood before them. A man, tall and powerfully built, with waist-length fiery red hair. He wore a crimson kimono, but only half of it, the left side properly worn while the right side hung open, leaving that half of his muscular, scar-covered torso exposed beneath a white sarashi wrapped around his body. A black eyepatch covered his left eye. His right eye, sky blue and sharp, gleamed with fierce intensity as it swept across the group.

He was, objectively, beautiful, with a raw, savage beauty that was almost primal. Everything about him radiated barely contained violence and absolute confidence.

That single visible eye lingered on each of them before stopping on Emilia. His lips curved into a grin that was equal parts charming and predatory.

"Well, well," he drawled, his voice rough like gravel but somehow pleasant. "If I was still breathin', I'd show ya just how much delight and ecstasy I could bring ya in a single night, pretty lady. Whatcha say?"

The chamber fell silent.

Anastasia's face turned scarlet, her mouth falling open in shock at the brazen inappropriateness. Emilia blushed as well, though for different reasons - she knew he'd said something scandalous by everyone's reactions, but didn't quite understand what. She was also, despite herself, finding the wild-looking man incredibly pretty. Interesting - different from anyone she'd ever seen.

Reinhard had gone completely still, his face carefully neutral. Inside, his mind was racing. His dragon sword Reid, usually so docile in its sheath, was practically vibrating with excitement, pressing against its confinement like a dog seeing its master after a long absence. His divine protections were reacting similarly, resonating with the man before them in ways that confirmed what Reinhard's instincts already told him.

This was Reid Astrea. The first Sword Saint. His ancestor.

"You lecherous pervert" Ram started, her face also flushed but with anger rather than embarrassment. She'd also noticed how attractive the man was, which made his crude comment even more infuriating. "What kind of greeting is that?"

Reid's attention shifted to her, and his grin widened. "Ya've got spirit, I'll give ya that. Pretty too. But ya're too small to handle what I'm offerin', if ya catch my meanin', you."

Ram's face went from pink to crimson. She wanted to attack him, to put this insufferable man in his place. But her instincts screamed that fighting him would be a very, very bad idea. She would lose. Badly.

"What is your name?" she demanded instead, trying to reclaim some dignity. "Who are you to make such inappropriate comments?"

Reid shrugged, the motion casual despite the rippling of muscle it revealed. "I'm just a stick-swinger. Nothin' special, you."

"A stick-swinger?" Julius echoed, finding his voice despite his own anger at the man's earlier comment. He stepped forward, placing himself partially between Reid and the ladies, a protective instinct asserting itself. "I am Julius Juukulius, knight of the Kingdom of Lugnica, member of the Royal Guard, and I -"

Reid yawned. Actually yawned, his mouth opening wide without any attempt to cover it politely. "Yeah, yeah. Got a fancy name, got fancy titles. Question is: ya gonna fight or just keep talkin'? 'Cause if ya wanna keep talkin', I'm gonna take a nap."

Julius felt his temper flare, which was unusual for him. He prided himself on his composure, his ability to remain diplomatic even under duress. But something about this crude, disrespectful man pushed every button he had.

"Very well," Julius said coldly, drawing his sword. "If combat is required to progress, then I shall defend the honor and virtue of the ladies present by defeating you in single combat."

Reid's grin became a full smile. Incredulously he pulled out chopsticks  and readied himself in a casual stance. "Now that's more like it. Come on then, fancy knight. Show me what ya got, you."

Julius moved.

He was fast, incredibly fast. His blade struck in a complex pattern, high and low, feinting left before attacking right. It was a technique that had defeated dozens of opponents, a sequence that should have been impossible to defend against without significant skill.

Reid didn't defend.

Julius felt the ground vanish from beneath his feet. The world spun, the ceiling and floor trading places in a dizzying rotation. Wind rushed in his ears, cold and sharp. And then pain exploded in his stomach, deep, crushing agony of a perfectly placed strike.

He was flying. Actually flying through the air, his body completely out of his control and the wall caught him.

Julius's back struck the stone with enough force to crack the supposedly unbreakable material. His lungs emptied in a single violent exhalation. His vision went white, then black, then white again. Blood filled his mouth, copper and salt. His legs... he couldn't feel his legs.

"JULIUS!" Anastasia screamed, already running toward him. Emilia was right behind her, her healing magic already gathering in her hands.

Julius tried to stand. His pride demanded it. His duty demanded it. He was a knight. He couldn't just lie here defeated after a single exchange.

His legs wouldn't respond. Terror joined the agony - had he been paralyzed? Was it temporary or permanent?

"Don't move!" Anastasia commanded, her hands pressing against his shoulders to keep him down. Tears streamed down her face, fear and concern overwhelming her usual composure. "Ya're hurt bad. Don't try to fight anymore. Please."

Julius wanted to object, wanted to stand, wanted to continue the battle. But the pain was too overwhelming, and darkness crept in at the edges of his vision. He fought to stay conscious, fought to remain aware, but his body had reached its limit.

He'd failed. One attack. One exchange. And he'd been defeated so utterly, so completely, that he couldn't even remember how it had happened.

Across the chamber, Reid had already lost interest in the downed knight. His single eye had found a new target, and his grin returned with renewed intensity.

"Yer interesting," he said, staring directly at Reinhard. "Real strong, ya." He tilted his head, studying the redheaded Sword Saint like a predator sizing up particularly intriguing prey. "Yer interesting and dull, punk. Let's fight, yeah?"

Reinhard didn't get a chance to object, to refuse, to even prepare himself mentally. Instead he immediately grabbed the trial sword and in that moment Reid moved.

The sound barrier broke. The shockwave hit the chamber like a physical force, making the entire tower shake. Stone cracked. The air itself screamed.

Everyone except Reid and Reinhard was thrown to the ground by the shockwave alone.

And then the real fight began.

To anyone watching, it was impossible to follow. Blurs of motion, the sound of metal on wood so rapid it became a continuous shriek, splashes of red that might have been blood, the twirling hair of the two monsters fighting or might have been imagination.

The chamber became a storm of violence. From Reinhard's perspective, time diluted differently. Each microsecond stretched into comprehensible moments, his divine protections allowing him to perceive what his body could barely react to.

Reid was everywhere: A strike from above, Reinhard blocked, the impact sending tremors through his arms despite his enhanced strength. A sweep at his legs, he jumped, barely clearing the attack. A thrust at his heart, he parried, the chopstick Reid was using as a weapon somehow having more force than most legendary swords.

Yes, a chopstick. Reid wasn't even using a real weapon.

Reinhard's dragon sword was vibrating in its scabbard without rest. Reinhard ignored it, instead he attacked with everything he had, techniques refined over years of training, enhanced by divine protections that made him unmatched and undefeatable by anything in the world.

Reid blocked each strike with the chopstick. The Divine Protection of the Sword Saint, which granted Reinhard unparalleled skill with any weapon, wasn't working properly. The lines of attack, the weaknesses he should have been able to see in any opponent's defense, they weren't there. The lines, the path to cut and strike weren't even blurred, they just did not exist. 

The Divine Protection of First Sight, which should have made any first attack against him fail, had already been bypassed. Reid had hit him squarely three times now, drawing blood from his shoulder, his cheek, his thigh.

Reinhard found himself in a position he'd never experienced before: he was being matched strike to strike. He was dismantling ans was also being dismantled piece by piece by his ancestor fighting with a chopstick and an eyepatch.

Blood ran down his face from a cut above his eye. His breathing was labored, something that hadn't happened since he had been five years old. His muscles ached, not from exhaustion but from the sheer impact of blocking attacks that carried impossible force.

And Reid... Reid was worse off, actually. His body was a canvas of cuts, each one bleeding freely. His kimono was more red than its original color. His breathing was ragged, his one visible eye slightly unfocused from blood loss.

But he was grinning. That same wild, fierce grin. "Not bad, punk," Reid panted, blood speckling his lips as he spoke. "Yer actually makin' me work for it. Been a couple days since I had a decent fight."

Reinhard didn't respond. Couldn't respond. All his focus was on survival, on keeping up with an opponent, who fought with a style that predated all modern techniques, who wielded a chopstick like it was the greatest weapon ever forged.

They clashed again, and again, and again. The chamber's walls cracked further. The floor fractured under the impact of their movements. The air itself grew hot from the friction of their speeds.

And then Reid spoke, his voice cutting through the chaos with unnatural clarity- "That brat won't achieve his goals with a cheater like you walkin' the earth."

Reinhard's concentration broke for a fraction of a second. Cheater? What did he -

Killing intent.

Pure, absolute, undiluted killing intent, focused on his throat with laser precision. Every combat-oriented divine protection Reinhard possessed screamed in alarm. Every combat instinct, every survival reflex, every iota of his sword mastery all aligned on a single message: DEFEND YOUR NECK.

Reinhard moved automatically, bringing his sword up to guard, angling his body to present less of a target, preparing to dodge if the block failed.

The attack never came.

Confusion froze Reinhard for the briefest moment. Reid's killing intent had been absolute - there was no way it had been a feint. So why -

He looked down.

Reid was holding the dragon sword.

The dragon sword Reid, namesake of its original wielder, the legendary weapon that had supposedly brought an end to the Witch of Envy four hundred years ago. The sword that only a Sword Saint could draw, that had remained dormant in its sheath for generations.

It was in Reid Astrea's hands, drawn fully, the blade catching the light and reflecting it in rainbow cascades.

The chamber fell silent. Even the ongoing sounds of Julius's labored breathing, Anastasia's quiet sobbing, Emilia's whispered healing spells - all of it seemed to fade into background static.

Everyone stared at the impossible sight.

The sword was magnificent beyond words. Its blade seemed to be forged from light itself, perfectly straight yet somehow fluid, as if it existed in multiple states simultaneously. The edge was so sharp it appeared to cut the air around it, creating visible distortions in space. The hilt was wrapped in silver and red, the colors interweaving in patterns that hurt to look at directly. But more than its physical beauty, the sword radiated joy. Pure, unadulterated joy. It vibrated in Reid's grip, humming with a sound just at the edge of hearing, like a puppy whining in happiness at seeing its owner after a long separation.

"Hey there, partner," Reid murmured to the blade, his voice surprisingly gentle. "Been a while, hasn't it?, you?"

The sword's humming intensified, its light growing brighter.

Reinhard wanted to speak, wanted to understand what was happening. The dragon sword had never shown this level of emotion before, had never resonated with him the way it was resonating with Reid. He'd thought they had a bond, that being the Sword Saint meant he was the sword's chosen wielder.

But seeing it now in Reid's hands, seeing how it practically sang with happiness, Reinhard realized he'd been wrong. He hadn't been the sword's chosen wielder. He'd been its temporary custodian, keeping it safe until its true master returned.

"Sorry about this," Reid said, his tone still strangely gentle. Not apologetic, exactly, but something close. "Nothin' personal, punk. But ya're too dangerous. Ya got too much power, and too much love for ya. That brat needs obstacles to grow, but ya just gonna ruin his future, you".

"What are you - " Reinhard started.

Reid raised the dragon sword. He held it high, the blade pointing upward, and swung it down at nothing. At empty air. At the space between spaces where reality was thinnest.

Light exploded. It filled the chamber, filled the tower in its intensity. For one moment Pleiades Watchtower took on a role of a beacon, illuminating the world from all sides in its brilliance. The shockwave followed a heartbeat later.

And then, as quickly as it had appeared, both light and shockwave faded.

The chamber returned to normal. The sword was gone, completely and absolutely. It simply no longer existed. Reid's hand was empty, his fingers still curved as if gripping something, but there was nothing there.

Silence was like the calm before the storm. And then it broke when Reinhard screamed.

It was a sound that none of them had ever heard before, never even imagined they could hear from the Sword Saint. Raw, primal agony that bypassed all dignity, all composure, all the careful control Reinhard always maintained

"No, no, NO!" Reinhard collapsed to his knees, his hands clutching at his chest as if trying to hold something inside that was trying to escape. "What did you do?! WHAT DID YOU DO?!"

Fear. Real, genuine, absolute terror filled his voice. Reinhard, who had faced Archbishops without flinching, who had been killed and resurrected without losing his calm, who stood as an immovable pillar of strength for everyone around him - Reinhard was afraid.

Everyone in the chamber felt chills run down their spines. The fear was contagious, spreading like ice water through their veins. If Reinhard was this terrified, if something could reduce the Sword Saint to this state, then what hope did any of them have?

Julius tried to stand, tried to go to Reinhard's aid, but his body still wouldn't respond properly. Anastasia held him down, tears streaming down her face as she watched both knights suffer in their different ways.

Emilia wanted to help, wanted to do something, but she didn't understand what had happened. What had the sword strike done? What had changed? She could not comprehend the absurdity of this situation.

It was only Ram who noticed it at first, the sensation of the ability, her connection to her sister immediately cutting of like a string snapped at once.

She joined the screaming with Reinhard.

In Miload's mansion, far from the Pleiades Watchtower, Otto and Garfiel walked through the garden enjoying the morning air.

"This is nice change of scenery," Otto admitted, feeling unusually content. The flowers were blooming beautifully, the paths were well-maintained, and most importantly, he wasn't in immediate danger for the first time in what felt like months. "After everything that happened in Priestella..."

"Yer bein' all expressive 'n shit, brotto," Garfiel teased, his sharp-toothed grin wide and friendly. "That the booze from last night talkin'? My amazin' self saw how much ya put away."

Otto's face flushed scarlet. "I may have... indulged slightly more than intended," he admitted, his merchant's dignity warring with his embarrassment. "Stop talking about it please".

"Why not, it's fuckin' funny," Garfiel laughed. "Never thought I'd see so drunk that ya'd start singin' songs 'bout merchantin' and—"

"We agreed never to speak of that!" Otto interrupted hastily.

Their banter was cut short by Roswaal's appearance. One moment the path ahead was empty, the next moment the court mage stood before them as if he'd always been there, his distinctive makeup and costume making him look like something from a stage play rather than a formal advisor.

Both Otto and Garfiel jumped, startled by the silent arrival.

"You clown" Garfiel hissed, his hand going to his chest. "Don't be sneakin' up on my amazin' self like that!"

"Quiiite the reaction," Roswaal drawled, his hetero-chromatic eyes gleaming with amusement. "Can I not take a stroll through my ooown garden? Or must I announce my presence like some common visitor?"

"It's your garden, obviously," Otto replied, trying to regain his composure. "But perhaps a bit more noise when you walk would be appreciated. You nearly gave me a heart attack."

Garfiel was about to respond with another quip when he froze. His confident grin vanished, replaced by confusion, then growing horror.

Otto noticed it a heartbeat later. The birds had stopped singing. It wasn't gradual, the sounds and the voices that he had been hearing since his childhood, they had simply stopped, all at once, as if someone had cut the strings of a puppet. The insects' buzzing, the rustle of small animals in the underbrush, even the sound of wind through the leaves- 

Silence - Complete, absolute, unnatural silence.

"What's happening?" Otto asked, his voice chocked out in the oppressive quiet.

Garfiel was looking down at his feet, at the ground beneath him. The earth, which always felt warm to him, which always gave him a sense of strength and connection - It was cold. Dead. Empty.

"The earth's... it's..." Garfiel couldn't find words for what he was feeling.

Roswaal wasn't looking at them. His eyes were fixed on the sky, specifically on the sun.

The sun that was dying.

It happened slowly at first, then with increasing speed. The warm yellow-white of the life-giving star began to shift, its color bleeding away like water running through paint. Yellow became orange. Orange became red.

The red intensified, darkening to crimson, then to a deep, bloody maroon. The sun's size seemed to fluctuate, swelling and contracting in irregular pulses that hurt to watch. Its light, which had been bright and warm, became dim and cold, casting the garden in shadows despite being directly overhead.

The temperature dropped in a single crushing wave. The flowers around them withered, their petals turning brown and falling. The grass beneath their feet frost-covered in seconds, crackling under their weight.

"This isn't possible," Otto breathed, his merchant's mind trying to rationalise what he was seeing and failing completely. "The sun can't just... change like this."

Roswaal's expression, usually so carefully controlled and theatrical, showed genuine shock. His eyes were wide, his mouth slightly open, all pretence of composure abandoned. T-teacher, did you... did you foresee this too?

And in the Pleiades Watchtower, Reid Astrea stood over the broken form of Reinhard van Astrea, his purpose complete as the world's connection to its source of blessings, miracles, and divine interventions had been cut.

The Age of Divine Protections had ended.

Reid spoke the following words grimly: "Happy Birthday, descendant. It's a new you."

Chapter Text

First of all, I have to thank everyone for the absolutely mind-boggling amount of support, positive comments, and outreach for this fic. I literally started writing this just a week ago, and objectively, I can say what a success this endeavor has been. Every step of the way, your encouragement, your positive comments, and - most importantly - your genuine interest and engagement with the plot and development of this fic have been a massive ego boost and motivator for me to write as much as I can and deliver the highest quality I'm capable of as a writer.

Again, thank you so much, everyone. Author-sama loves you all and is thrilled to see that you're enjoying reading this fic as much as I enjoy writing it.

With that out of the way, I want to discuss the main point of this fic, where I want to go with it, and what this fic is not about. (Please allow Author-sama some time to yap here).

There is a very important quote about what constitutes good fiction and good writing in general, and that quote is very much the guideline I write by: "The only thing worth writing about is the human heart in conflict with itself." - William Faulkner.

Now, what do I mean by this exactly? Simply put, every character I write about, every battle, every plot point, every twist, every interaction - literally everything I want to convey with this writing - is about characters struggling with their motives, emotions, desires, and actions. Nothing, absolutely nothing else, is anywhere close to as important when it comes to writing.

If I write a battle or action scene, I want to explore what motivates the character to fight. What kind of way do they want to fight? Will they be able to overcome the emotional scars of that fight? What does winning or losing actually mean to them?

If I write an interaction between characters, I want to dig into what's actually happening beneath the surface. What do they want from each other? What are they afraid to say? How does their history affect how they treat each other in that moment?

If I write a twist or revelation, it's about forcing characters to confront something about themselves they've been running from. How does it change what they believe? How does it shake up who they think they are? How will they confront the situation where their whole reality is altered and nothing is the same anymore?

Every scene is about the internal conflict. That's it. That's what matters:

Reinhard - Who is Reinhard without his OP Divine Protections? Who is Reinhard if not the Sword Saint? How can he be anything else other than the monster his grandfather/father insist he is? What is he without the power that has been bestowed on him since his childhood? How will he handle his whole persona being absolutely destroyed in just one second? Will he even handle this? Will he find himself, will he forgive himself?

Julius - Arrogant, proud, and finest of the knights. Except he is not. Nobody remembers him, he lost his brother, his title, his reputation, name, spirits, everything. Yet he still proudly clings on to his self-delusion only to get completely trashed by Reid in the blink of an eye. Julius, who arrogantly steps up to defend "fair maidens" from a "lecherous pervert" without their input, without considering for one second if this is something he should be doing. And guess exactly who was in the same situation in Arc 3? Which person got trashed by the same Julius for a selfish expression of his own desires?

Beatrice - the whole point of her persona was to choose someone to cling to. This is literally it. You guys might disagree, but Beatrice was one step away from suicide because her whole identity is based around clinging to someone like a parasite. Subaru was the convenient host for her, but now she knows what Echidna was like, she knows that everything she suffered through was pointless and because of her good nature - because of her trust in her mom. How is she gonna deal with this? Who is she going to cling to without Subaru? How is she going to overcome her own personal conflict?

Crusch - defeat after defeat. Loss after loss. Now she doesn't even have her Divine Protection of Wind Reading - one clutch that guided her through the political mess that is Lugnica, one important skillset she relied on. She is reduced to an amnesiac cripple without her main ability. So what exactly is she now? What is even the point of her trying to become King of Lugnica? How can she justify to herself that she can lead when tragedy and loss follow her over and over?

Wilhelm and Heinkel - Their family is ruined. Wilhelm is furious at Reinhard but also apologetic. His revenge did not give him peace as he expected. It did not mend the years of abuse and shitty behavior that destroyed his family. And now he has a catatonic, lost grandchild without power, without anything that has defined his life. Will he help him? Will Heinkel help him?

Felix - Do I even need to say? If Beatrice is just maybe a parasite, this guy is 100% a parasite. His whole personality, his whole motivation for existence at this point is to serve his lady. And the main tool for service - his Divine Protection that grants him one way to perhaps serve her and the people of Lugnica - poof, gone. We already saw how broken Felix can become in Pride IF. The question is, how will he handle his inner conflict - his desire to help without having the power to do so anymore in this timeline?

Subaru - Oh, I love this one the most. Rem's Hero speech, in my genuine opinion, was one of the best and also the worst things to have ever happened to Subaru. Yes, it gave him the catalyst - the drive and motivation to go through his goals and desires, but at what cost? Is it okay for Subaru to die, get tortured, and suffer for others because now he's a hero? Is it okay for him to only have the pain and burden of knowing lost loops and all the agony they have as long as he can see Emilia smile?

Satella is the first one to challenge him during Sanctuary on this when she mentions how it will be his friends that suffer to see him in pain (Average Goat-tella moment, no bias of course lol). But then we have something even more extreme. Amnesiac Rem in Arc 7 slapping Subaru with the "You are not a Hero" speech - complete antithesis, complete breakdown and destruction of the persona and character he has built so far. So who the fuck is he? If he's not Rem's hero, why did he suffer so much? Why didn't he put his own self and mental well-being as a priority? For whom did he sacrifice his life if nobody is there to appreciate it?

This fic goes even further in this. Subaru actually gets slapped in the face by getting killed by his own friends even after everything he did for them. There's no "you are not a Hero" speech from Rem, but there is internal self-reflection, his own selfish greed to seek happiness for himself, to dissociate himself from past Subaru.

Will he be able to do this though? Will his humble and kind heart be able to handle all the death and destruction that such a selfish path will have? If he is not there to die for people, people will die in spite of it and there will be no more RBD to save the day. Will Subaru be able to actually handle his desire to help, his own issue with self-worth, his Rem-induced "I am a hero" mentality, or will he snap out of it?

Conflict, conflict, conflict - literally everything is conflict of the character with their own heart, and that's what makes this so fun to write for me.

So what does this mean in a nutshell? Simply put - if any of you expect me to bash, dumb down, insult, trash, or just straight up assassinate the characters for the sake of getting stupid dialogue like: "OmG WiTcH CulTisT HoW DiD yOu FooL DiViNe DrAGon?" then please click off this fic. Thank you so far for reading, but you have misjudged what this fic is about and how I want to handle writing it.

Every character for me is a protagonist in their own story. Every character will go through their own arcs, their own battles with their self-conflicts, and they might lose, might become worse, might become better. The point is I respect and love every single character I am writing in this fic and will try my best to do them the justice they deserve.

With that, I once again want to thank everyone for the support you have given me so far. I will most likely not be able to write a new chapter till next Saturday due to personal_life.exe issues, so please forgive Author-sama for small hiatus.

P.S. Reid cut the connection between DPs and Od Lagna. Both DPs and Od Lagna are fine, they still exist. Nobody can access them though.

P.P.S And yes, Reid uses the similar quote that Subaru says in the Pride IF to Reinhard. The Pride IF tag is here for more than the Fire Spirit :D

Chapter Text

The wind roared past Subaru's ears, cold and crisp against his face as they soared high above the world. Volcanica's massive wings beat rhythmically on either side, creating powerful drafts that occasionally made his stomach lurch. Below them, the Augria Sand Dunes stretched like an endless golden tapestry, the watchtower now just a thin spire in the distance.

"This is amazing!" Subaru shouted over the wind, unable to contain his excitement. Despite everything he'd been through, despite all the pain and hardship, in this moment he felt weightless. Free. Like all his burdens had been left on the ground far below.

"Master's face looks so silly right now!" Shaula giggled behind him, her arms wrapped tightly around his waist. "Your mouth is hanging open like a frog waiting for flies master!"

"I'm appreciating the view!" Subaru protested, though he couldn't keep the smile from his face. "How often does someone get to ride on the back of a legendary dragon? You should be more impressed!"

Shaula pressed her cheek against his back, squeezing him tighter. "I'm holding onto Master just to be safe! If you fell from here, your head would go splat like an appa, and all your memories would leak out for sure!" She paused, her voice taking on that teasing lilt that Subaru had come to both dread and appreciate. "If toilets can cause memory loss, maybe Master will become reaaaally retarded after falling from this height!"

Subaru twisted to glare at her over his shoulder. "Why do you keep bringing up that toilet incident? And don't use that word! It's-"

A sound interrupted him - deep, rumbling, and completely unexpected. It took Subaru a moment to realize what it was: Volcanica was laughing. The dragon's enormous body trembled beneath them with the undignified snort, sending vibrations through Subaru's legs.

"Thy squabbles amuse me greatly," Volcanica said, his ancient voice carrying effortlessly despite the wind. "Tis not often I have had passengers who argue like nestlings upon my back."

"Great, even the thousand-year-old dragon is laughing at me," Subaru muttered, though he couldn't muster any real annoyance. The warmth spreading through his chest was too pleasant and comforting.

Shaula's laughter joined the dragon's, her entire body shaking against Subaru's back. He wanted to retort, to defend what little dignity he had left, but instead found himself laughing too. The sound escaped him before he could stop it - genuine, carefree laughter that seemed to float away on the wind...

Then Subaru's laughter cut off abruptly as realization struck him like a physical blow.

"Wait - Beast! Volcanica, I left my ground dragon behind!" Panic surged through him, images of the loyal creature being surrounded by Witchbeasts or succumbing to the desert's dangers flashing through his mind. "We need to go back! He'll be devoured if we leave him out there alone!"

Volcanica's massive head tilted slightly. "Fear not, I shall retrieve him."

Without warning, the great dragon banked sharply to the left, wings angling to catch the currents. Subaru and Shaula both yelped, clutching desperately at the dragon's scales as the world tilted around them. The horizon swung wildly as Volcanica circled back, descending toward the desert floor with a speed that made Subaru's stomach drop.

The landing was surprisingly gentle for something so massive. The dragon touched down with the grace of a bird, his enormous claws barely disturbing the sand. Wind whipped around them as his wings folded, sending small dunes shifting and swirling.

Subaru's heart pounded as he scanned the area, already rehearsing an apology in his mind for abandoning the loyal beast that had carried him through the dunes. He expected to find the ground dragon cowering, injured, or worse - gone entirely, having fled or fallen prey to the desert's dangers.

What he did not expect was to find Beast sprawled comfortably on his side, legs extended lazily, basking in the desert sun. The ground dragon's eyes were half-lidded with contentment, his scales gleaming in the sunlight as if he'd been carefully grooming himself.

Subaru's jaw dropped.

Beast finally seemed to notice the enormous shadow falling over him and cracked one eye open fully. Upon seeing Subaru, the ground dragon made a sound that could only be described as a dismissive snort, as if to say, "Oh, it's you. Been a while."

"You... you're just... sunbathing?" Subaru sputtered, his carefully prepared apology evaporating. "I thought you'd be terrified! Or in danger! Or - or at least a little concerned about being left alone in a desert full of Witchbeasts!"

Beast yawned, displaying rows of sharp teeth before lazily rolling to his feet. He stretched like a cat, arching his back and extending his limbs one by one, in no particular hurry.

"I think he was enjoying the vacation from Master!" Shaula observed cheerfully, sliding down from Volcanica's back with inhuman grace. "Look at him! All relaxed and happy without you around to boss him around!"

"I don't boss him around!" Subaru protested, following Shaula down with considerably less elegance. His feet hit the sand with a thump that sent him staggering forward a few steps before he caught his balance. "We're partners!" And I left him behind, the though flashed through his mind shamefully.

He was interrupted by a familiar chirping sound. Polaris, his fire spirit, emerged from his jacket pocket in a burst of excited flames. The little spirit immediately darted toward Beast, circling the ground dragon's head in quick, erratic patterns. The spirit seemed absolutely delighted to be reunited with the ground dragon, emitting happy little bursts of warmth that Subaru could feel through their bond.

Beast's reaction was equally surprising. The normally stoic creature's tail began to sway, his posture becoming more animated. When Polaris darted past his nose, the ground dragon snapped playfully at the spirit, missing intentionally but clearly engaged in the game.

Within moments, the two were engaged in what could only be described as play. Polaris zoomed around Beast, occasionally diving close to his tail and sending small sparks dancing across his scales. Beast, for his part, swatted at the spirit with surprising gentleness, always careful not to actually hit the tiny flame.

Subaru watched in utter bewilderment. "Since when are they friends?"

The great dragon was observing the interaction with an expression that Subaru could only describe as mixed offense and amusement. The ground dragon, unlike most creatures when confronted with a being of Volcanica's power and majesty, was completely ignoring him - more interested in his game with Polaris than acknowledging the legendary presence looming above.

"The audacity of lesser beasts," Volcanica commented dryly. "No proper respect for their betters." Despite his words, there was unmistakable fondness in the dragon's golden eyes.

After Beast and Polaris had exhausted themselves with their reunion play, Subaru approached his ground dragon cautiously. "So... are we good? No hard feelings about me leaving you behind?"

Beast blinked at him languidly, then huffed a warm breath directly into Subaru's face.

"I'll take that as a yes," Subaru said, patting the creature's neck. "Ready for the next part of our adventure? Though you might have to share me with a few new friends."

Beast looked past Subaru to where Shaula was bouncing on her toes with excitement, then up to the massive form of Volcanica, and somehow managed to express complete indifference with just the angle of his head.

Soon they were airborne again, but this time with an unlikely trio: Subaru seated between Shaula and Beast, all riding on Volcanica's massive back as they soared across the dunes. Beast had initially seemed skeptical about the arrangement but had settled into a dignified acceptance once they were in the air.

The journey was peaceful, almost dreamlike. The landscape below transformed gradually as they left the heart of the desert behind, harsh dunes giving way to scrubland, then patches of grass... and burnt ashy buildings - they were in outskirts of Mirula once more.

Volcanica descended slowly, choosing a secluded area far enough from the town to avoid causing panic among the inhabitants. As they touched down, the great dragon let out a soft sigh, his scales shimmering in the late afternoon light.

"This is as far as I can journey with thee," Volcanica said, his voice carrying a weight that hadn't been present during their flight. "The contract binding me to the watchtower will not permit me to venture further without due reason." Subaru understood what the Divine Dragon meant - unless Lugunica was attacked by an outside threat the contract would not permit him to leave the watchtower.

Subaru slid from the dragon's back, landing softly on the patchy grass. The reality of the situation settled over him like a physical weight. "So this is goodbye, then."

Subaru felt a hollow ache spread through his chest. He'd found something at the tower he hadn't expected: a family. Flugel's family, perhaps, but they had accepted him as Natsuki Subaru without those memories anywya. And now he was being forced to leave most of them behind.

Reid, bound to the tower by the magic sustaining his existence. Volcanica, tethered by ancient oaths and responsibilities. Satella, sealed away for centuries, only able to visit briefly through their contract. The crystal at his neck pulsed warmly with the thought, as if responding to her name in his mind.

"It feels like I found my family only to get slapped in the face and denied them again," Subaru said softly, his hands clenching at his sides. "I finally found people who... who see me, who accept me completely, and I can't even stay with them."

Volcanica lowered his massive head until his eyes were level with Subaru's. "I share thy sentiment, young one. Our time together has been brief but precious to me as well." The ancient dragon's golden eyes held a gentleness that belied his immense power. "But remember, thou can visit us now. The path is known to thee, and as administrator, thou art welcome at any time."

Subaru brightened slightly at this. "That's true. I can come back whenever I want, can't I?"

"Indeed," Volcanica confirmed. "Distance need not sever all bonds."

"Could I... could I have a contract with you too?" Subaru asked suddenly, his hand moving unconsciously to touch the crystal on his neck. "Like the one I have with Satella. So we could communicate even when we're apart."

Volcanica's expression grew solemn. "The danger would be immense, young one. Thou hast already bound thy soul to a witch and a spirit." The dragon's gaze flickered briefly to Polaris, who was hovering near Subaru's shoulder. "The mental strain of such a connection to thy od would be beyond what a human vessel could safely contain. Even one as unusually resilient as thyself."

"Oh." The simple hope deflated as quickly as it had formed, leaving Subaru feeling hollow once more.

Shaula, who had been uncharacteristically quiet during the exchange, suddenly threw her arms around Subaru from behind. "Don't look so sad, Master! We're together now, right? After four hundred years, that's what matters most!"

Subaru couldn't help the small smile that tugged at his lips. Leave it to Shaula to cut through his melancholy with her straightforward enthusiasm.

"You're right," he agreed, placing a hand over hers where they were clasped at his chest. "A week ago I had myself, Polaris and a hope for a better future. Now I have it as a present to cherish".

Volcanica watched them with ancient wisdom in his eyes. "A lesson many take lifetimes to learn, young one."

They said their goodbyes under the deepening purple of the twilight sky. Subaru found himself fighting back tears as he pressed his forehead against Volcanica's massive snout in a gesture of affection that seemed to surprise and please the dragon.

"Take care of that bastard Reid for me," Subaru said, his voice thick with emotion. "Tell him... I'll be back soon."

"I shall convey thy message," Volcanica promised. "And I shall await thy return with anticipation."

With that, the great dragon spread his enormous wings and launched himself skyward. The downdraft nearly knocked Subaru off his feet, sending grass and leaves swirling in chaotic patterns around them. They watched as Volcanica climbed higher and higher, his massive form growing smaller against the darkening sky until, with a final glint of scales catching the last rays of sunlight, he disappeared into the distance.

The silence he left behind felt oppressive.

Then Shaula's arms were around Subaru again, squeezing him tight enough to make his ribs protest. "Don't be sad, Master! Look, we're in the outside world! There are so many new things to see!"

Her enthusiasm was infectious, her eyes wide with wonder as she gazed toward the distant lights of Mirula. "There will be new foods to try, new clothes to wear, new people to meet! Everything's probably so different after four hundred years!"

Subaru felt a sudden, crushing weight of guilt. Four hundred years. Shaula had been alone in that tower for four hundred years because of Flugel's - because of his orders. She'd killed countless people who approached the tower, following instructions that had isolated her completely from the world. And all that time, she'd been waiting for him to return.

He'd condemned her to a life of loneliness, and she was still looking at him with complete adoration.

The thought must have shown on his face, because Shaula's expression suddenly sharpened. She released him from her hug only to flick her finger against his forehead with enough force to make him yelp in pain.

"Ow! What was that for?!"

"Master's thinking stupid thoughts again," Shaula declared, hands on her hips. "I can tell by that gloomy face. Stop it right now."

"I wasn't - "

"You were," she insisted. "You were thinking about how I was alone for so long, and feeling guilty about it, weren't you?" She leaned in close, her green eyes fierce and direct. "Stop it. I chose to stay and guard the tower. I'm with Master now, and that's all that matters. So no more sad thoughts! I want to see Master smiling now that we're together again."

Subaru rubbed his forehead, feeling properly chastised. "Are you sure Flugel didn't just keep you around because he needed someone to beat sense into him when he was being stupid?"

"That was definitely part of it," Shaula agreed cheerfully. "Master has always needed Shaula to help with his overthinking problem!"

Despite himself, Subaru laughed. "Fine, fine. I'll try not to think bad thoughts anymore. Let's focus on getting somewhere comfortable for the night, and tomorrow we can start figuring out our next move."

Beast, who had been grazing nearby, trotted over at Subaru's words. The ground dragon seemed eager to get moving, perhaps sensing the promise of proper shelter and feed ahead.

Polaris darted excited circles around all of them, her flame burning bright with what Subaru could feel was happiness through their bond. The little spirit seemed delighted to have their strange group together and moving forward.

Of course, Natsuki Subaru's twisted fate could never allow him to cherish and savour happiness for more than a moment, could it? The warmth of the moment lasted only a few precious seconds before something changed.

Beast suddenly stopped moving, his body going rigid. The ground dragon's eyes widened, and he began to tremble, making distressed sounds unlike anything Subaru had heard from him before.

"Beast? What's wrong?" Subaru moved toward his mount in alarm, but before he could reach him, Polaris shot away from his shoulder, the little spirit vibrating and darting around in chaotic patterns that screamed confusion and pain through their connection.

The sudden flood of negative emotions from the spirit hit Subaru like a physical blow, nearly doubling him over. "Polaris? What's happening?"

Shaula was instantly alert, her posture shifting from relaxed to battle-ready in a heartbeat. "Master, something's wrong. The mana in the air is fluctuating wildly."

Before Subaru could respond, the world changed.

It began with the light. The last rays of the setting sun, which had been painting the landscape in warm golds and oranges, suddenly shifted. The color drained away, replaced by a sickly hue that made Subaru's stomach turn. The sun itself seemed to pulsate, growing and shrinking in rapid, irregular patterns that hurt his eyes to watch.

"What the hell...?" Subaru whispered, unable to look away from the horrifying spectacle.

The sun's color continued to change, deepening to a bloody crimson, then darkening further to a deep maroon - the color of a dying dwarf star. The light it cast was no longer warm and golden but cold and harsh, creating stark, unnatural shadows across the landscape.

Temperature plummeted around them. Subaru's breath suddenly fogged in front of his face, and he watched in horror as frost began to spread across the grass at his feet, the blades turning brittle and white in seconds. The leaves on nearby bushes withered and curled, becoming brown and lifeless in moments.

Shaula pressed close to Subaru's side, her eyes wide with a fear he'd never seen in her before. "Master, this isn't right. This isn't natural."

Beast had stopped shaking and now stood completely still, as if frozen in place by terror or confusion. Polaris had returned to Subaru, the spirit huddling against his chest as if seeking protection from whatever was happening around them.

The sky continued its unnatural transformation. What had been clear blue darkened to a murky purple-red, like a bruise spreading across the heavens. Sun no longer giving enough light to brighten the sky instead gave away to stars of the night.

Wind whipped up around them, carrying a biting cold that cut through Subaru's clothing as if it weren't there. The air itself seemed to change, becoming thin and difficult to breathe.

"It's the end," Shaula whispered, her voice barely audible above the howling wind. "Master, it's happening again."

"Again? What's happening again?" Subaru grabbed her shoulders, forcing her to look at him instead of the nightmare unfolding in the sky. "Shaula, talk to me! What is this?"

Her eyes, when they met his, were filled with ancient knowledge and terrible certainty. "Just like before. When the world nearly ended the first time."

Subaru's blood ran cold. "The first time? You mean - "

Subaru followed her gaze, watching as the dying sun cast its sickly light over a world rapidly descending into an unnatural winter.

"What do we do?" he asked, the question sounding hopelessly inadequate even as he voiced it.

Shaula's hand found his, her fingers intertwining with his own. For once, there was no teasing, no cheerful optimism in her voice when she answered.

"I don't know, Master. I don't think anyone does."

Together, they stood watching as the sky continued to change above them, heralding the the true beginning of the inevitable destruction of the world.

The dying light of the red dwarf sun cast its perpetual twilight through the grimy windows of the Broken Compass Inn, painting everything in sickly crimson hues that had become the world's new reality.

Alexis Bowhalf wiped down a mug with mechanical precision, his weathered hands moving in the same routine they had followed for fifteen years, though the world beyond these walls had become something unrecognizable. The mug gleamed dully in the orange light - one of the few things that still held its original colour in this hellscape of perpetual dusk.

It had been over a month since the Great Silence, as the scholars and priests had taken to calling it.

One day the divine protections had simply vanished - every blessing bestowed by Od Laguna snuffed out like candles in a hurricane. The red ball now hung mockingly in the sky where their life-giving sun once blazed was merely the cherry atop this catastrophe.

Ground dragons, once capable of racing across continents at speeds that defied comprehension, now struggled to reach from town to town in a day. Trade routes that had been the arteries of civilisation were now clogged with the slow death of commerce.

Alexis set the mug down with more force than necessary, the sound echoing through the eerily quiet tavern. His usual crowd of merchants, travellers, and local workers sat hunched over their drinks, speaking in hushed tones when they spoke at all. Everyone felt it - the creeping certainty that the world was dying by degrees. Crops would never yield again in this perpetual frost. Prices had already begun their inexorable climb toward starvation. The very air seemed thinner, colder, more hostile with each passing day.

The tavern door creaked open, letting in a gust of frigid air that made everyone reflexively pull their cloaks tighter.

Two figures entered, both shrouded in heavy black cloaks adorned with orange ornaments that seemed to absorb and reflect the red light in mesmerising patterns. The taller of the two was a girl with brilliant brown hair that gleamed like burnished copper in the dying light streaming through the doorway. But it was her companion who immediately commanded the room's attention.

A raven-haired boy stepped into the tavern, and dancing around him was something that made every patron's breath catch in their throats - a fire spirit.

The small elemental creature twirled through the air with playful grace, its flames casting actual warmth into the bone-deep chill that had settled over the world. The boy himself cut an imposing figure despite his youth; intense dark eyes that seemed to hold depths of experience far beyond his years, and coiled on his right leg was a whip that spoke of someone accustomed to danger.

Both newcomers moved with a synchronised precision that suggested they were far more than mere travelling companions.

The room fell silent as all eyes fixed on the fire spirit. Alexis could see the naked jealousy and desperate hope warring in his patrons' faces. Warmth had become more precious than gold, more coveted than water in a desert. Several men shifted in their seats, hands unconsciously moving toward their coin purses or weapons, though none dared make any aggressive moves - not yet.

The boy and girl approached the bar, their boots clicking against the wooden floor. The fire spirit - Polaris, Alexis would learn later - continued its aerial dance, and he could feel the blessed warmth beginning to chase away the frost that had taken permanent residence in his bones.

"We need a r single room for the night," the boy said, his voice carrying an authority that seemed at odds with his apparent age.

The girl immediately flushed a deep crimson that was visible even in the red-tinted light, and Alexis couldn't help but smirk despite the grim circumstances. Young love (or so he thought) would even persist at the end of the world it seemed.

"Where are you from, boy?" Alexis asked, polishing another mug as he studied the newcomer's face.

Immediately, every conversation in the tavern died. The only sounds were the crackling of the fire spirit and the distant howl of wind through the city's narrow streets. Alexis felt the weight of two dozen pairs of eyes focused intently on their exchange.

"We're heading to the capital city," the boy deflected instead, seemingly oblivious to the sudden spike in tension his presence and this answer in particular had created.

A harsh bark of laughter erupted from one of the tables. "Good luck with that, boy!" called out Hendrick, a scarred former merchant whose caravan business had died alongside his divine protections. Several others joined in with bitter chuckles and knowing shakes of their heads.

The boy's confusion was evident, and Alexis felt a stab of pity for him. Clearly, these travellers had been on the road long enough to miss some crucial developments. "The capital's under quarantine, lad," he explained gently. "Has been for two weeks now."

"Quarantine?" The boy's brow furrowed deeper.

"Military quarantine," spat Gareth, whose crops and future with it now lay buried under permanent frost. His words were slurred with drink and bitterness. "The whole bloody city's locked down". The sage council - those gold-licking cowards - they've barricaded themselves behind stone walls, warming their arses with fire stones and the finest cloth while the rest of us freeze."

The girl leaned closer to the boy and whispered something that Alexis couldn't quite catch, though the urgency in her tone was unmistakable.

"What exactly is happening there?" the boy asked, and as if summoned by his question, Polaris began to expand its dance, spiralling wider around the room. The blessed warmth spread like rippling water, and Alexis watched his patrons' rigid postures begin to relax for the first time in weeks. The frost that had gathered on the windows started to melt, and steam rose from previously frozen mugs of ale.

The boy was clearly no fool - this display of warmth was calculated to loosen tongues and build goodwill. Alexis's estimation of the young man rose several notches. 

"What's happening?" Hendrick laughed bitterly, but there was genuine gratitude in his voice as he turned his face toward the fire spirit's warmth. "Everything's gone to hell, that's what's happening. Some say the kingdom of Lugunica has fallen completely - that the quarantine's just a way to maintain what little stability we've got left."

"And if Lugunica's fallen," added Marcus, "then Kararagi and Vollachia might as well be called walking corpses."

The girl straightened, her bright-brown hair catching the light as she turned toward the speakers. "These countries," she said carefully, as if the names were unfamiliar to her, "tell me about them."

"Vollachia?" Gareth snorted. "That empire apparently didn't get it bad enough with just the red sun and the loss of divine protections. Word is there's some kind of undead uprising tearing through their territories. Dead folk getting back up and attacking the living. Some say it started in the capital itself."

"The Buddheim Jungle's just... gone," whispered Elena, her life and business depended on ingredients from that very forest. "Nobody knows how. One day it was there, the next - nothing but empty earth".

"Dragons," said another voice from the back of the room. "Flying dragons burning and devouring whole villages. That's what they're saying about the countryside around Chaosflame."

"Chaosflame's living up to its name," Hendrick continued. "Complete chaos, just like it says. And all this talk of Vollachia kinda reminds me - that candidate - what was her name? Barielle, or something like that? She's vanished completely. Nobody's seen hide nor hair of her since... well, you know."

Alexis watched the boy's hands clench into fists, his knuckles white with tension as the full scope of the world's devastation became clear. The girl placed a gentle hand on his arm, but her own face had gone pale beneath the red light.

"Anything else?" the boy asked, his voice barely above a whisper.

"Two cities have fallen to the Witch Cult," Alexis said quietly, the words tasting like ash in his mouth. "But it's not their usual slaughter and terror campaign. They've actually captured Azamaki and Esperga - set up an actual government there like they mean to stay and rule."

The boy's confusion was evident. "I don't know those cities."

"They're both close to Jimuna Volcano," Alexis explained, and he saw understanding dawn in the boy's dark eyes like a terrible sunrise.

"The warmth," the boy murmured, his expression grim. "They want the volcano's heat."

"Clever lad," Alexis nodded approvingly. "That's exactly what we figure. While the rest of us freeze, the Witch Cult's securing the only reliable sources of warmth left in the world."

"It's even worse than you think, boy," called out Tomas, a merchant whose cousin had barely escaped with his life the week before. "My cousin was trading in Fusumi—steel weapons, mostly—when he barely escaped getting skinned alive. The city mayors are uniting, demanding war against Lugunica."

"War?" The boy's voice cracked slightly. "Right now? In this situation?.. Why?"

"Because the Witch Cult has been razing the trade routes and the trade between cities have become impossible in Kararagi. The one doing so calls herself Capella Emerada Lugunica," Tomas spat. "They can't deal with her themselves, so they're shifting the blame to Lugunica. Figure if they can point their people's anger at a foreign enemy, maybe they won't turn on their own leaders for failing to protect them."

The boy's face had gone ashen. "And rest of Gusteko?" he asked weakly.

At the mention of Gusteko, the room fell silent again.

Alexis was the one to speak, his voice heavy with unspoken knowledge. "Nobody knows much about what's happening in Gusteko. But what little communication we had with them has gone completely silent. Dead silent."

The boy stared into his mug, and Alexis could see him imagining what that silence might mean for a kingdom already locked in permanent winter. Piles of corpses freezing in the streets, entire cities becoming tombs of ice and despair.

Marcus always one for dark humor tried to lighten the mood - "Heh, maybe the mad prince will get his balls frozen off at least," he said, but the laughter that followed was weak and strained. Everyone was trying to deny the inevitable truth that the world was rushing toward its end.

In the corner, old Jeremiah once again began muttering to himself, his words becoming increasingly frantic. "The observers," he gurgled, his eyes wide and unfocused. "They're still watching, still watching. We just need to listen to the stars, wait for guidance. The stars will tell us what to do."

Alexis caught the boy's concerned look and shook his head sadly. "Don't mind Jeremiah," he said quietly. "He's from the slums outside the city. He...lost his mind when the knights... - Alexis could barely finish the following words - used his frozen children as fuel to warm themselves during their patrols."

The boy's face went green, and Alexis saw bile rise in his throat. The reality of their new world was too harsh... too brutal for most people to accept all at once.

"I think we'll take that room now," the boy said, his voice strained. He reached for his coin purse, then paused. "Do any of you have fire crystals that need charging? I can fill them up before we retire."

The offer was met with a chorus of grateful voices and the scraping of chairs as patrons rushed to retrieve their precious warming stones. Alexis smiled despite everything, the boy understood the value of goodwill in these dark times.

"Thank you," Elena said, tears in her eyes as she pressed a small crystal into the boy's hands. "I haven't felt truly warm in weeks."

"Bless you, lad," added Hendrick, offering his own collection of stones. "You're an angel in these dark times."

The boy smiled, but Alexis could see the weight of the world's suffering crushing down on his young shoulders. As Polaris danced from crystal to crystal, recharging them with precious warmth, the boy's smile became increasingly strained.

Subaru's hands trembled as he turned the iron key in the lock, the cold metal biting into his fingers despite Polaris's warmth. The cheerful voices and grateful thanks from below felt like they belonged to another world, one where hope wasn't a luxury he could barely afford. He pushed open the door to their small room, and Shaula slipped in behind him, her presence comforting.

The room was sparse - a single bed with threadbare blankets, a washbasin with a thin layer of ice across its surface, and a small window that looked out onto the dying city of Fleur. Through the frost-covered glass, he could see the sun's or to be more apt - red dwarf's sickly light painting the rooftops in shades of rust and blood. Somewhere out there, people were freezing to death in their homes. Somewhere out there, the Witch Cult was consolidating power around the only sources of warmth left in the world. Somewhere out there Vollachia was consumed by the corpses and undead. Somewhere.. out there.. the last child would draw their last breath in their mother's frozen hug.

"Master," Shaula whispered, her voice barely audible as she closed the door behind them. The brown of her hair had dulled in the red light, making her look almost ghostly. "What should we do? Should we try to find them somewhere else?"

Subaru's chest tightened. She knew as well as he did how slim their chances were becoming. Every day that passed, every report of kingdoms falling and cities freezing, made their mission seem more impossible.

Subaru sat heavily on the edge of the bed, the old wood creaking under his weight. His whip pressed against his leg. "I don't know," he admitted, the words tasting like defeat. "The capital's quarantined. Two cities taken by the Witch Cult. We know that Sirius is held somewhere in the capital. At the same time, there's Capella. But where to go? Which way to take? This was the million dollar question, wasn't it?

Polaris drifted over to him, settling near his shoulder with a soft crackling sound. The spirit's warmth was a blessing, but it couldn't touch the cold of despair that had settled deep in his bones.

Shaula moved to sit beside him, her hand finding his in the dim light. Her touch was warm and welcome.

"Capella," he said, the name bitter on his tongue. "Of course it would be her. I never thought her sharing the royal name could be turned into a weapon against us." His fists clenched involuntarily. How can I do anything Shaula? How can I save anyone when the world seems to be intending to destroy itself?"

"Master," Shaula said softly, squeezing his hand. "You gave those people something precious tonight. And I am not talking about the fire crystals. I saw Hope. I saw it in their faces."

"Hope for what?" Subaru's voice cracked. "That they'll survive another week? Another day? Shaula, the sun is dying. The divine protections are gone. Ground dragons can barely move fast enough to matter. Trade is collapsing, crops are failing, and the Witch Cult is capturing the only habitable places left." He stood abruptly, beginning to pace the small confines of the room.

Polaris followed his movement, its light casting dancing shadows on the walls. The spirit seemed almost melancholic, its usual playful energy subdued by the weight of their circumstances.

"You don't know," Shaula said quietly. "But you're still trying. That's what makes you who you are, Master. Even when everything seems impossible, you don't give up. Did I not tell you that when you completed the first trial? Did you not do that when defeating that lecherous vermin seemed impossible to you?"

Subaru stopped pacing and looked at her.

"I pulled you from your tower hoping to show you the world and instead you got this," he said, his voice thick with guilt. "You were safe there, and I - "

"And you gave me a reason to live beyond just waiting," she interrupted firmly. "Master, I chose to follow you. I choose to follow you still, even into this hell. Because I believe in you."

Subaru looked out from the window. The town of Fleur was spread out to him, deadly silent. The roads were cracking from the frost that covered it like a blanket. Stone-wood walls were illuminated with sickly red radiance from the star that mockingly hovered in the air. The streets were empty and lifeless. In desperation he touched the crystal on his neck, the one connection he had left to Satella. Its surface was cold and dark, as it had been for weeks now. No matter how desperately he called to her, no matter how much he needed her guidance, she remained silent.

"She's not answering," he whispered, clutching the crystal so tightly his knuckles went white. "Satella's not answering, and I don't know what that means. I don't know if she can't hear me, or if she's..." And if there comes a time when she takes over - He couldn't finish the thought.

Shaula moved to stand behind him, her arms encircling his waist in a gentle embrace. "Please believe in her master, she would never abandon you." she said against his shoulder. "We'll figure out what happened to the divine protections, to the sun and we'll fix this."

Subaru leaned back against her warmth, drawing strength from her unwavering faith. Outside, the wind howled through the streets of Fleur, carrying with it the scent of frost and desperation. Below, the tavern patrons were probably settling in for the first warm night they'd had in a month, their fire crystals glowing steadily.

"The capital," he said finally. "We still have to try to reach it, quarantine or not. Kararagi is too far away, too dangerous to consider going there. And by the time we arrive to one of the cities Capella might not even be there anymore. As much as Subaru wanted to bash that fucker's brains out, he could not risk it, not yet. Besides he needed to talk to the Sage Council, get any information that might explain the devastating phenomenon going throughout the world.

"And if they won't let us in?"

Subaru's jaw tightened, a twisted smile forming on his face. "Do you think I will give them a choice?" He turned in her arms, meeting her eyes in the dancing light of Polaris's flames. "But first, we rest. Tomorrow will be quite the day. I can feel it in my bones"

As they settled onto the narrow bed, Polaris expanded its orbit to warm the entire room, chasing away the frost that had begun to form in the corners. Shaula curled against Subaru's side, her breathing gradually evening out as exhaustion claimed her. But sleep eluded him, his mind churning with plans and fears in equal measure.

The reports from the tavern below played over and over in his thoughts. Vollachia overrun by the undead. Gusteko silent as the grave. The Witch Cult carving out an empire from the ashes of civilization. And somewhere in all this chaos, his friends and allies were either fighting for their lives or already lost. Garfiel, Otto, Beatrice, Emilia, Ram, Julius... Are you alive, are you ok? Reinhard... Oh god, Reinhard must be catatonic. He will be blaming himself for this as usual...

Once more he pulled the crystal closer to his chest, whispering another desperate prayer to Satella. "Please," he breathed into the darkness. "I need you.  I don't know how to fix this alone."

But the crystal remained cold and silent, offering no comfort beyond its familiar weight in his hands.

As the night deepened and the red dwarf's light faded to its dimmest ebb, Subaru finally succumbed to an uneasy sleep. His dreams were filled with fire and ice, with familiar faces calling his name demanding answers for why he abandoned them, why he had left them alone to freeze and rot.

And as Subaru dreamed his nightmares, observers from high above watched and laughed.

Chapter Text

The first time Heinkel Astrea wanted to drink he was sitting in the Crown and Sword tavern, staring at the amber liquid in the glass before him. The tavern was mercifully quiet at this hour with just him, the bartender, and two off-duty guards playing cards in the corner. He savored the familiar burn of anticipation as he raised the glass to his lips for the first time today.

That's when the screaming started from outside, high and raw enough that made the hair on the back of Heinkel's neck stand up. The glass he was about to drink from nearly slipped from his fingers.

Heinkel was already on his feet, the untouched drink forgotten on the bar as one hand instinctively went to his sword at his hip. He strode toward the door while behind him the guards scrambled up from their card game, chairs clattering to the floor.

He burst through the tavern doors into absolute chaos. Hundreds of people filled the streets, all staring upward with expressions of horror. Some screamed while others stood frozen in shock. A woman near him had collapsed to her knees sobbing. A merchant backed away from nothing with his hands raised as if warding off an invisible attacker.

"My protection!" someone shrieked. "It's gone! My Divine Protection is gone!"

The panic spread through the crowd like wildfire. Heinkel felt his own heart hammering as he followed their collective gaze skyward. The sun was dying, there was no other way to describe what he was seeing. The brilliant yellow orb that had always hung in the sky was changing, its color bleeding away like dye washing out of fabric. It shifted from gold to orange to a sickly red that reminded him of infected wounds.

As he watched, transfixed in horror, the red deepened to crimson and then to a dark bloody maroon. The sun's light became cold and harsh. Shadows stretched across the cobblestones in unnatural angles while the temperature plummeted so suddenly that Heinkel could see his breath misting in front of his face.

"Deputy Commander!"

Heinkel tore his gaze from the nightmare above to find three Royal Guards pushing through the crowd toward him. Their faces were pale with eyes wide in barely controlled panic. These were trained soldiers who had faced Witch Beasts and Witch Cult without flinching, yet now they looked terrified.

"Sir, what's happening?" The youngest one, Garrett who was barely twenty, could barely get the words out.

Heinkel's mouth was dry. He wanted to tell them something reassuring, something that would calm the growing hysteria in the streets, but what could he say? That everything would be fine? That this was temporary? He didn't believe it himself.

"Form up!" he barked instead, falling back on training and protocol because it was all he had. "Get the civilians off the streets and into their homes. Send runners to the castle and inform Commander Marcos that we have a situation."

What a pathetic understatement. The world was ending and he was calling it a situation.

The guards scattered to follow his orders. Heinkel turned back toward the tavern where his abandoned glass of alcohol sat on the bar, amber and inviting. His hands were shaking from cold or fear, he couldn't tell which. Every instinct screamed at him to go back inside and drink until the shaking stopped, until the dying sun didn't seem quite so terrifying.

But already more people were converging on him, recognizing the Deputy Commander's distinctive Astrea red hair and the sword at his hip. They were looking to him for answers, for leadership, for some sign that someone knew what to do.

"Deputy Commander, what's happening?"

"Sir, is this an attack?"

"The Divine Protections, are they really gone?"

Heinkel squared his shoulders and forced his expression into something resembling confidence. The drink would have to wait. It always did.

The second time Heinkel Astrea wanted to drink, five days had passed since the sun died and the world had descended into barely controlled chaos. The temperature continued to drop with frost covering the cobblestones even at what should have been midday. The perpetual twilight cast by the red dwarf made it impossible to tell time without a clock, and people's circadian rhythms were already showing the strain.

Heinkel sat in the same corner of the Crown and Sword with an empty glass in front of him and a full bottle just within reach. The tavern had become his unofficial office, a place where panicked citizens and overwhelmed guards knew they could find him at almost any hour. He'd barely slept in three days, surviving on adrenaline and whatever scraps of food Petrov shoved in front of him when he remembered to eat.

His fingers wrapped around the bottle's neck as he prepared to pour himself the first drink of the evening. The chair across from him scraped as someone sat down uninvited.

"You look like death," Marcos Gildark said without preamble.

Heinkel's hand froze on the bottle but he didn't look up. "Good to see you too, Marcos."

"When was the last time you went home?"

"What's home?" Heinkel laughed bitterly, his grip tightening on the bottle.

Marcos's expression remained impassive though something flickered in his blue eyes. "The Sage Council has called an emergency session. They want reports from all divisions of the Royal Guard on the situation throughout the city."

"Of course they do." Heinkel started to lift the bottle but Marcos's massive hand shot out and covered it, pressing it firmly back down to the table.

"You need to be sober for this."

"I'm always sober enough." - Heinkel bit out.

"Heinkel." Marcos's voice dropped, taking on a quality that made even the Deputy Commander sit up straighter. "They're talking about martial law. About rationing. About closing the city gates entirely." He paused with weight in his words. "There have been incidents in the slums. People are desperate."

The implications made Heinkel's stomach turn. He'd heard the reports too, looting and violence and bodies found frozen in alleyways. The thin veneer of civilization was cracking fast.

"How bad?"

"Bad enough that we're instituting mandatory patrols through all districts. Including the slums. Tonight."

Heinkel closed his eyes. The slums at night in this cold with mad and suspicious people. It would be a nightmare.

"I'll be there," he said, pushing both the glass and bottle away from him. The liquor inside had a thin skin of ice forming on top.

Marcos stood with his massive frame blocking what little light filtered through the tavern's grimy windows. "After midnight, whatever the fuck midnight is now. Main gate. Don't be late."

After he left, Heinkel stared at the untouched bottle for a long moment. His hands had stopped shaking from before but now they trembled again with anticipation of what was coming. Then he stood, dropped a few coins on the table, and walked out into the dying light. The cold hit him like a physical blow though his body adjusted quickly, another curse and another reminder that he was too durable for his own good.

The bottle would have to wait again.

The pounding in Heinkel's skull was a living thing with claws that dug into his brain with every heartbeat. He'd managed to grab maybe two hours of sleep before the patrol and it wasn't enough. It was never enough anymore. It was the third time he wanted to drink after the Great Silence as morons had dubbed it.

He stood in the armory methodically checking his equipment while the headache screamed at him to find a bottle, any bottle, and drink until the pain went away. His hands moved automatically through the routine: sword, check. Spare blade, check. Fire crystal, barely charged but it would have to do.

The flask at his hip called to him. He'd filled it earlier in a moment of weakness, telling himself it was just for emergencies, just to take the edge off if things got bad. His fingers brushed against it and he was half a second from unscrewing the cap when Garrett appeared in the doorway.

"Sir?" The young guard looked like he'd aged ten years in three days. "We're ready when you are."

Heinkel's hand dropped away from the flask. He nodded curtly and followed Garrett out into the courtyard where two other guards waited. Sven the veteran and a woman named Lydia who'd only joined the Royal Guard six months ago. All of them looked exhausted and scared and desperately trying to hide both.

"Standard patrol route through the western slums," Heinkel said, his voice rough from lack of sleep. "Stay together. Don't engage unless absolutely necessary. If someone's freezing, get them to a warming station. If they're dead..." He paused, the words catching in his throat. "Mark the location for the morning collection crews."

The unspoken reality hung in the air between them. There would be bodies. Lots of them.

They set out into the night and Heinkel immediately regretted not taking that drink. Snow was falling, actual snow in summer, swirling down from the bruised purple-red sky in thick wet flakes that melted on contact with their warm skin but accumulated on everything else. The streets were treacherous with ice and more than once Heinkel felt his feet slip before his supernatural durability kept him upright.

The slums were quiet in a way that made his skin crawl. The silence was like a grave, like a battlefield after all the screaming stops.

They found the first bodies two blocks in.

Three children huddled together in a doorway for warmth. They'd frozen solid with their faces pressed together and arms wrapped around each other. The smallest one couldn't have been more than five and still had her thumb in her mouth. Her eyes were open, frost coating the lashes, staring at nothing.

Lydia made a choking sound and turned away with her hand pressed to her mouth. Garrett's face went white as fresh snow. Even Sven, who'd seen plenty of death in his fifteen-year career, looked uncomfortable.

Heinkel forced himself to look, to really look and commit every detail to memory because someone had to bear witness. These were his people, citizens of Lugunica who'd died while he sat in a tavern nursing his self-pity and contemplating which bottle to open next.

"Mark it," he said, his voice hollow and distant. "Keep moving."

The patrol got worse from there. They passed beggars in rags curled in fetal positions, shivering so violently their teeth clacked like castanets against each other. Some were still alive, barely clinging to consciousness. Others had simply frozen where they sat, their bodies covered in a fine layer of frost that made them look like grotesque ice sculptures in a madman's gallery.

Barrels of fire dotted the street corners with huddled masses of humanity pressed together around them for warmth. Desperate faces turned toward the patrol as they passed but no one spoke. What was there to say? The guards had no food to offer, no shelter, nothing but their presence and that was worth less than nothing in the face of this cold.

The smell hit them in the next block, charred meat that made Heinkel's stomach turn and his mouth water simultaneously in a nauseating combination. At first he thought it was pork but then he saw the woman crouched over a makeshift spit, turning something with mechanical precision. The shape was wrong, too small with four legs and a tail.

Dogs. They were roasting dogs over an open fire.

And rats. He could see the skinned carcasses piled in a wicker basket nearby, pink and obscene in the red light, their tiny hands almost human-looking without the fur.

"Od us," Sven whispered beside him.

Heinkel wanted to tell him that the Od Laguna had already abandoned them, left them all to freeze in the dark. But he bit his tongue and kept moving forward because that's all there was left to do.

"Sir, look out!"

A figure lurched from an alley ahead of them, moving with the jerky uncoordinated movements of someone far past rational thought. The man was skeletal thin with wild unfocused eyes that reflected the red light like an animal's. He was holding a knife and the blade caught the firelight as he charged directly at Heinkel.

"Stay back!" Heinkel shouted, his hand going to his sword, ready to attack. The smell of alcohol filled the air, sharp and clean against the stench of desperation. "I'm warning you, stay back!"

But the man didn't stop. He didn't even slow down. He ran straight at Heinkel's drawn blade with something like joy on his face, his mouth open in a soundless cry.

Heinkel understanding what the man was attempting, tried to pull the sword back, tried to turn it aside, but his reflexes were dulled from exhaustion, from the cold, and the man was moving too fast. The blade slid into his chest with the terrible ease of a hot knife through butter, punching through ribs and into his heart.

The man's momentum carried him forward until he was pressed against Heinkel, impaled on his sword. Blood poured from his mouth, hot and red and steaming in the cold air. It soaked into Heinkel's uniform, spreading warmth across his chest.

And the man smiled.

"So warm," he whispered, blood bubbling between his lips. His eyes were clear now, focused and almost peaceful. "My blood is so warm. I feel alive again." His hands came up to grip Heinkel's shoulders, not in attack but in something like gratitude or relief. "Thank you. Thank you for making me warm."

He died seconds later with that smile still on his face, his weight going slack and dragging Heinkel forward.

For a long moment nobody moved. Nobody spoke. The only sound was the crackling of the barrel fires and the soft hiss of snow hitting them. Heinkel stared down at the dead man still impaled on his sword, at the blood that was already starting to freeze on his uniform in silence.

He pulled his sword free and the body crumpled to the ground. The blood on the blade was steaming, melting the snow where it dripped.

"Sir?" Lydia's voice was small and scared. "Sir, are you alright?"

Heinkel wanted to laugh. Alright? How could anyone be alright in a world where people killed themselves just to feel the warmth of their own blood? Where children froze in doorways and people ate rats to survive? Where the sun itself had died and taken all hope with it?

"Mark it," he said again, his voice mechanical and empty. "We need to keep moving."

They finished the patrol in silence. Heinkel moved through it like a ghost, going through the motions because the alternative was to stop and if he stopped he didn't think he'd ever be able to start again. His mind kept replaying that moment, the man's smile and his words. Thank you for making me warm.

When they finally returned to the castle as dawn broke with no real sunrise, just a gradual lessening of the red darkness, Heinkel dismissed his patrol and walked back to his quarters in a daze. He passed the barracks kitchen where someone had left a bottle of cheap wine on the counter. His hand reached for it automatically but stopped halfway.

He could still smell the alcohol from his spilled flask mixing with blood and snow. Could still see that man's grateful smile as he died. Could still feel the weight of all those frozen bodies they'd marked for collection.

Heinkel walked past the bottle and went to his room. He collapsed on his bed still in his blood-stained uniform, too stunned to think or feel or do anything but close his eyes. Sleep took him quickly, dragging him down into nightmares where he saw that man's smile over and over, heard his whispered thanks echoing in the darkness.

The fourth time Heinkel Astread wanted to drink he stood outside the Astrea Manor. Three weeks since the world ended. Three weeks of patrols and frozen bodies and people eating rats in the streets Three weeks of that man's grateful smile as he died on Heinkel's sword, thanking him for the warmth of his own blood.

He needed a drink. Needed it like he needed air. Needed to be out of that cursed capital.

He pushed open the heavy door and stepped into the entrance hall. The temperature inside was barely warmer than outside, frost creeping along the edges of the windows. The manor felt emptier than usual.

He was heading toward the stairs when he heard it. A crash from somewhere above. The sound of glass breaking. Then cursing, slurred and vicious.

Heinkel froze. He knew that voice.

Another crash, followed by more cursing. The sounds were coming from upstairs. From Reinhard's room.

Heinkel climbed the stairs. The hallway looked the same as always, pristine and perfect, awards and commendations lining the walls.

The door to Reinhard's room was slightly ajar. Heinkel pushed it open.

The space inside looked like a disaster had hit it. Reinhard's usually immaculate room was destroyed. Clothes strewn everywhere, furniture overturned, and bottles scattered across the floor. Some empty, some half-full, some shattered against the walls. The smell of wine and stronger spirits was overwhelming.

And in the middle of it all sat Reinhard van Astrea, slumped against his bed with another bottle clutched in his hand. His red hair was disheveled, his uniform jacket discarded somewhere, his eyes unfocused and bloodshot.

He looked up when Heinkel entered and laughed, the sound bitter and broken. "Father.  Of course it's you." He raised the bottle in a mocking toast, liquid sloshing over the sides. "Come to see your son finally—finally following in your footsteps?"

Heinkel's jaw clenched. "What the hell are you doing?"

"What's it look like?" Reinhard's words slurred together. "Having a drink. Or ten. Lost count." He laughed again, high and strained. "You should be proud. Your failure of a son is finally acting like a proper failure."

"Get up."

"No." Reinhard took another drink, some spilling down his chin. "Don't wanna. World's ending anyway. Why bother?"

Heinkel stepped into the room, his boots crunching on broken glass. "How long have you been here?"

"Dunno. Day? Two days?" Reinhard waved the bottle vaguely.

"Reinhard—"

"Don't." The word came out sharp despite the slurring. "Don't use that voice. The disappointed father voice. I know, okay? I know I'm pathetic. I know I'm—" He choked on the words, his face twisting. "I know."

Heinkel's hands clenched further. Part of him wanted to turn around and leave, to go find his own corner and drink until he stopped caring. But something kept him rooted there, watching his son fall apart.

"What happened at the tower?"

Reinhard's whole body went rigid. The bottle slipped from his fingers, hitting the floor with a dull thunk. Wine spread across the hardwood in a dark stain.

"No," Reinhard said, his voice suddenly small. "No no no, can't - can't talk about -"

"What happened?"

"He took it!" The words burst out of Reinhard like they'd been trapped inside too long, desperate and broken. "He took my sword and he - he cut - " His hands came up to clutch his head, fingers digging into his hair.

"You're not making sense."

"I KNOW!" Reinhard's voice rose to a shout that dissolved into a sob. "I know I'm not making sense! Nothing makes sense! He was better than me and that's impossible but he was and he took my sword - my own sword - and he cut the world and now everyone's dying and it's ME! It's all my fault!"

His hands dropped from his head to press against his chest, his breathing coming in harsh gasps. "The children in the streets, the people freezing, the sun - that's all me! I did that! Your monster of a son destroyed the world!"

"Stop - "

"I should never have been born!" Reinhard was openly sobbing now, his words barely coherent. "Grandmother would be alive, Mother wouldn't be sleeping, and the world wouldn't be ending! Everything would be - would be better if I'd never - if I just - "

He couldn't finish the sentence, dissolving into harsh, ugly crying that shook his entire body. His hands were still pressed against his chest like he was trying to hold himself together physically.

Heinkel stood there staring at him. This was the Sword Saint. The Knight Among Knights. The perfect golden boy who'd made Heinkel's every failure stark and obvious just by existing. And now he was on the floor crying like a child, drunk and broken and incoherent.

Part of Heinkel felt vindicated. See? Even this monster could fail. Even he could fall apart. But a larger part, one he'd tried to bury under years of resentment and alcohol, just felt hollow.

"Get up," Heinkel said, his voice flat.

Reinhard didn't respond, still sobbing into his hands.

"I said get up." Heinkel moved closer, his boot crunching on more glass. "You're drunk. You're not making sense. Sleep it off and - "

"Can't sleep!" Reinhard's head snapped up, his face blotchy and wet with tears. "Every time I close my eyes I see him! I see his face and he's smiling and he says... says it's my birthday and... it's a new me and I don't understand! I don't understand what that means!"

His voice cracked completely. "Father, I don't know what to do. I've never - never not known what to do before and now I don't and I'm so scared. I'm so scared and I don't know how to fix it and everyone's dying and it's my fault - "

The words dissolved into more sobbing, harsh and desperate. Reinhard's whole body curled in on itself, his forehead nearly touching his knees as he cried.

Heinkel stood there watching his son break apart and felt something twist in his chest. He should say something. Do something. But what? What could he possibly say that would make any of this better?

His hand went to his flask. Just one drink. Just one.

But as he unscrewed the cap, as the smell of whiskey filled the air even more, Reinhard's sobs got louder. More desperate. Like a child who'd finally reached the end of their endurance.

Heinkel looked down at the flask in his hand, then at his son on the floor surrounded by broken glass and empty bottles.

Slowly, he screwed the cap back on and put the flask away.

"Move over," he said gruffly.

Reinhard didn't seem to hear him, still crying into his knees.

Heinkel stepped over the broken glass and sat down heavily on the floor next to him. Close enough that Reinhard gradually became aware of his presence and lifted his head slightly. 

"Father?" His voice was wrecked, barely recognizable.

"Shut up," Heinkel said without heat. "Just... shut up for a minute."

They sat there in silence broken only by Reinhard's gradually quieting sobs. The red light from outside painted everything in shades of rust. The smell of spilled alcohol was overwhelming.

Finally, Reinhard's breathing started to even out, exhaustion and alcohol pulling at him. His eyes were half-closed, his head bobbing slightly as he fought to stay conscious.

"Sorry," he mumbled, the words barely coherent. "So sorry. For everything. For being - " He couldn't finish, his eyes finally closing completely.

Within moments he was unconscious, slumping sideways. Heinkel caught him automatically, his son's weight heavy and warm against his shoulder.

Heinkel sat there holding Reinhard as he slept, surrounded by the evidence of his breakdown, and felt something close to guilt and shame crack open in his chest.

The door opened quietly. Carol peeked in. Her eyes widened at the scene but she had the sense not to comment.

"Do you need help getting him to bed, Heinkel-sama?" she asked softly.

Heinkel looked down at Reinhard's tear-stained face, slack in sleep. His son's hand had fisted in his uniform unconsciously.

"No," Heinkel said quietly. "Not yet."

Carol only nodded and quietly closed the door.

Heinkel sat there holding his son in the ruins of his perfect room. Reinhard's breathing had deepened into true sleep, his face slack and tear-stained. The weight of him was warm and solid against Heinkel's shoulder.

After couple minutes, carefully, Heinkel shifted and maneuvered Reinhard's unconscious form. His son was heavy, all muscle and height, but Heinkel managed to get him onto the bed. Reinhard didn't wake, didn't even stir as Heinkel pulled off his boots and threw a blanket over him.

For a moment, Heinkel just stood there looking down at him. Reinhard's face was blotchy from crying, his hair a mess, his uniform wrinkled and stained. He looked nothing like the perfect Sword Saint. Not that, we are going to have that title anymore with the Divine Protections gone.

Heinkel turned and left the room, closing the door quietly behind him.

The hallway was cold and empty. The red light from outside painted everything in rust. His hand went to his flask automatically, the metal familiar against his palm.

He walked through the manor without thinking about where he was going, his feet carrying him on autopilot. Past the sitting room. Past his father's quarters where Wilhelm had not stepped a foot in ages. Past the servants' wing.

He stopped outside Louanna's room.

The door was slightly ajar, a sliver of red light cutting across the hallway floor. Heinkel pushed it open and stepped inside.

The room was warmer than the rest of the manor, kept heated by what few fire crystals they could spare. Louanna lay on the bed exactly as she always did, her breathing slow and steady, her face peaceful. Beautiful and untouchable.

Seventeen years. Seventeen years she'd been like this while the world moved on around her. While their son grew up without a mother. While Heinkel drank himself stupid trying to forget.

He crossed to the bed and sat down heavily in the chair beside it. His hand found hers, her skin cool and smooth. She didn't respond, didn't squeeze back, didn't acknowledge his presence in any way.

"He thinks it's his fault," Heinkel said quietly to the silent room. "Your condition. The world ending. All of it. He thinks he's a curse."

Louanna's face remained serene, unchanging.

"I let him think that." Heinkel's voice cracked. "For years I let him drown in guilt and pain. I never said anything."

His other hand went to the flask in his pocket, pulling it out. He stared at it for a long moment, at the dull gleam of metal in the red light.

"I don't know what to do, Louanna." The words came out broken, desperate. "The world is dying. Our son is breaking apart. People are freezing in the streets. And I'm sitting here with a flask in my hand because it's the only thing I know how to do anymore."

He unscrewed the cap. The smell of whiskey filled the air, sharp and familiar.

"I found him drunk," Heinkel continued, his voice shaking now. "Reinhard, Reinhard who has never touched a single glass of alcohol, Reinhard who hasn't cried, who has barely ever expressed himself was drunk and sobbing and saying he should never have been born. And I didn't know what to say to him. I don't know how to be a father. I never did."

His vision blurred. He blinked hard but the tears came anyway, hot and unwelcome.

"I need you to wake up." The words tore out of him. "I need you to wake up and tell me what to do because..."

The tears were falling freely now, dripping onto their clasped hands. Heinkel's shoulders started to shake.

"Please," he whispered, his voice breaking completely. "Please wake up. I don't know how to fix any of this. I don't know how to help him. I don't know how to be what he needs. I don't know anything except how to drink and fail and I can't - I can't keep doing that. Not anymore".

His forehead dropped to rest against her hand, his whole body shaking with sobs he'd been holding back for years. The flask slipped from his other hand, hitting the floor with a dull thunk. Whiskey spread across the hardwood in a dark stain.

"I'm sorry," Heinkel choked out between sobs. "I'm so sorry".

Louanna didn't answer. Didn't wake up. Didn't offer any comfort or guidance. She just lay there breathing slowly while Heinkel broke apart beside her.

He cried until he had nothing left, until his throat was raw and his eyes burned and his chest ached from the force of it. The spilled whiskey slowly seeped into the floorboards, filling the room with its sharp scent.

When the tears finally stopped, Heinkel stayed where he was, his forehead still pressed against Louanna's hand. The flask lay empty on the floor beside him.

For the first time in seventeen years, he'd wanted a drink and stopped himself. It should have made him feel proud. It should have been a victory, something to ironically enough celebrate with a drink. It didn't feel like victory. It felt like surrender and loss.

Crusch Karsten lay in her bed staring at the ceiling while Lord Balthus droned on about trade agreements and supply routes. The red light filtering through her window painted everything the color of old blood, making the room feel like the inside of a wound.

"Of course, Lady Crusch, you understand that in these trying times, consolidation of resources is paramount," Balthus was saying, his jowls wobbling as he spoke. "The Karsten domain has always been prosperous, and with proper management - my management, if you would permit - we could ensure your family's holdings remain secure throughout this crisis."

Crusch wanted to laugh. Or cry. Or scream. Instead she just lay there listening, her hands folded neatly over her chest, the black veins from Capella's curse crawling across her skin like roots seeking purchase.

She couldn't tell if he was lying.

For the first time in her life, she couldn't tell if someone was lying to her face.

The Divine Protection of Wind Reading had been with her for as long as she could remember. It was as fundamental to her existence as breathing, as intrinsic as her own heartbeat. The wind had always whispered the truth to her, had always told her when words were sincere or false, when promises were genuine or empty.

Now there was only silence.

"The Sage Council, of course, has expressed concern about leadership during this unprecedented catastrophe," Balthus continued, his small eyes studying her with barely concealed calculation. "A bedridden candidate, no matter how noble, may find it difficult to maintain their position. However, with the right advisors, the right support structure - "

Was he threatening her? Offering genuine help? Planning to usurp her authority while she was weak? She had no idea. His words washed over her like meaningless noise, each sentence potentially sincere or potentially a dagger wrapped in silk.

"I appreciate your concern, Lord Balthus," Crusch managed, her voice hoarse from disuse. Even speaking hurt, the curse sending jolts of pain through her chest. "I will consider your words."

"Excellent, excellent." Balthus stood, his bulk making the chair creak in relief. "I shall return tomorrow to discuss the specifics. Rest well, Lady Crusch. The kingdom needs you strong."

Did it? Or did he need her weak?

She couldn't tell.

After he left, Crusch continued staring at the ceiling. The silence in the room was oppressive, broken only by her laboured breathing and the distant sounds of the city beyond her window. Somewhere out there people were freezing, dying. The world was ending by degrees and she lay here useless, unable even to trust her own judgement anymore.

Her hands clenched into fists against her chest. The curse pulsed in response, sending fresh waves of agony through her body. She bit down on her lip to keep from crying out, tasting copper.

When had she become so weak?

She'd built her entire identity on strength, on competence, on the ability to see through deception and lead with clarity. She was Crusch Karsten, head of her house, candidate for the throne, the woman who had slain the White Whale. Or at least that what's the world told her. She was supposed to be unshakeable.

But she couldn't even remember who she was. - That Crusch Karsten was as dead as the one lying in bed.

The memories were gone, eaten by Gluttony, leaving only hollow spaces where her past should be. People told her stories about herself, about her courage, her convictions, her achievements, and she had to simply believe them because she had no way to verify the truth.

Just like she had no way to verify anything anymore.

A knock on the door interrupted her spiral of thoughts. "Lady Crusch?" It was one of the maids, her voice tentative. "Duchess Belmont is here to see you. She says it's urgent."

Crusch closed her eyes. Another visitor. Another person whose motives she couldn't read, whose words she couldn't trust. "Send her in."

Duchess Belmont swept into the room with the kind of practiced elegance that spoke of decades navigating court politics. She was an older woman, her gray hair perfectly coiffed despite the world ending outside, her dress immaculate. She smiled warmly as she approached the bed.

"My dear Crusch," she said, her voice dripping with concern. "I came as soon as I heard about your condition worsening. How are you holding up?"

"As well as can be expected," Crusch replied carefully, studying the woman's face for any tells. But without the wind to guide her, every expression could be genuine or manufactured. Every word could be truth or lies wrapped in honey.

"I wanted to discuss the matter of your succession," Belmont said, settling into the chair Balthus had vacated. "Given your current state - and please don't think me cruel for saying so - it might be wise to consider who will manage your affairs should the worst come to pass."

There it was. The same conversation, just dressed in different words. Everyone circling like vultures, waiting to pick apart what she'd built.

"My retainers are more than capable - " Crusch began.

"Your knight Felix is in no state to lead anything," Belmont interrupted gently. "The poor boy has barely left his room since this disaster has befallen on us. And the Sword Demon, well, he's a warrior, not an administrator." She leaned forward, her expression earnest. "You need someone with political experience Lady Crusch. Someone who can navigate the Sage Council, who can protect your interests."

Was she offering help? Or positioning herself to seize power?

"I appreciate your concern," Crusch said, the words mechanical. "But I'm not dead yet."

"Of course not, my dear. Of course not." Belmont patted her hand, the gesture almost maternal. "I simply want you to know that I'm here for you. Whatever you need."

After she left, Crusch lay in the silence again. Two visitors in one day, both offering support, both discussing succession. Both potentially sincere. Both potentially lying through their teeth.

She would never know.

The Divine Protection of Wind Reading had been the foundation of everything she'd accomplished. It had let her see through the political machinations of the capital, had helped her identify true allies from false friends, had given her the confidence to trust her own judgement even when everyone else doubted her.

Now she was blind, stumbling through conversations trying to parse meaning from tone and expression alone like everyone else had to do. And she was terrible at it. How did people live like this? How did they function without certainty, without the ability to know when they were being deceived?

She was alone. Bedridden. Cursed. Dying. Without her memories, without her divine protection, without any way to navigate the world she was supposed to lead.

The curse pulsed, sending another wave of agony through her chest. Crusch bit back a scream, her body arching off the bed. When the pain finally subsided, she lay gasping, sweat beading on her forehead.

This was her life now. Pain and uncertainty and slow death while vultures circled and she couldn't tell which ones wanted to help and which ones wanted to feed.

"I'm sorry," she whispered to no one, to everyone. "I'm so sorry. I don't know what I'm doing anymore."

Crusch Karsten cried silently in her bed as the red sun cast its dying light across a world she could no longer understand, a word, a thought of Fourier dying on her lips before it even formed.

Felix sat on the floor of his room with his back against the wall, staring at his hands. They were shaking. They'd been shaking for days now, a fine tremor he couldn't control no matter how hard he tried.

These hands had healed thousands of people. These hands had pulled soldiers back from the brink of death, had closed wounds that should have been fatal, had performed miracles through water magic.

The Divine Protection of Water was gone, torn out like a piece of his soul.

Water magic had always been effortless for Felix. He could sense water in all its forms, could manipulate it with a thought, could channel healing through it as naturally as breathing. The protection had made him one of the most gifted water mages in the kingdom despite his relatively modest mana capacity.

Now every spell was a struggle.

He'd tried earlier that day. Lady Crusch had been in so much pain, the curse eating away at her from the inside, and he'd tried to ease her suffering. It had taken him twenty minutes of intense concentration to manage what should have been a basic pain relief spell. Twenty minutes for something he used to do without thinking.

And it had barely worked.

"Ferris-chan is useless, nyow," he whispered to the empty room. "Completely useless."

Without the divine protection, his connection to water was like trying to grasp smoke. He could still use water magic, but it required active focus for every little thing. The intuitive understanding was gone. The effortless control was gone.

He was just another mediocre mage now, and mediocre wasn't enough to save Lady Crusch.

A knock on the door made him flinch. "Felix? Are you in there?"

Wilhelm's voice, gruff and concerned. Felix didn't answer, just continued staring at his useless hands.

"Felix, I know you're in there. Lady Crusch is asking for you."

"Tell her Ferris-chan is resting, nyow," he managed, his voice thin and strained.

"She needs you, Felix."

"Ferris-chan can't help her!" The words burst out before he could stop them. "Don't you understand? Ferris-chan can't help anyone anymore, nyow! The protection is gone and Ferris-chan is just a failure who can barely manage basic water spells!"

Silence from the other side of the door. Then: "That's not true."

"It is true, nyow!" Felix's voice cracked. "Ferris-chan tried to help Lady Crusch earlier and it took forever and didn't even work properly and she's dying because Ferris-chan can't heal her and—"

He couldn't finish, dissolving into harsh sobs. His hands came up to cover his face, to hide the tears he couldn't control anymore.

Everything Felix had built his identity on was tied to healing. He'd dedicated himself completely to mastering water magic, to perfecting his healing arts, to being useful to Lady Crusch. Every choice he'd made, every skill he'd developed, had been in service to keeping her safe and healthy.

And now when she needed him most, the divine protection that had made all of it possible was gone.

He wasn't a prodigy anymore. He was just Felix, a moderately talented water mage who couldn't save the person he cared about most.

The curse from Capella was beyond his ability to cure even with his divine protection. But at least before he could have eased her pain properly, could have kept her comfortable, could have done something meaningful.

Now he could barely manage simple pain relief. And every day Lady Crusch suffered a little more while Felix failed her over and over again.

"Ferris-chan is sorry, Crusch-sama, nyow," he whispered through his tears. "Ferris-chan is so sorry. You're in pain and dying and Ferris-chan promised to always be there for you and now Ferris-chan can't even ease your suffering."

What good was a healer who couldn't heal?

What good was Felix without his divine protection?

What was Felix without Crusch?

The answer felt terrifyingly clear: He did not know.

Wilhelm van Astrea stood in the training yard behind the mansion with his sword drawn, facing opponents that didn't exist. The violet-red sky above cast strange shadows across the ground, making everything look diseased and twisted.

He moved through the forms with mechanical precision, his blade cutting arcs through the cold air. Strike, parry, riposte, advance. The movements were as natural as breathing, honed over decades of practice until they'd become instinct.

But they meant nothing.

A lifetime of sword mastery, of perfecting his technique, of becoming one of the greatest swordsmen in the kingdom. And it was all useless against an enemy that couldn't be cut.

How did you fight the sun dying?

How did you battle cold and starvation with a blade?

How did you protect anyone from an apocalypse that had no face, no form, no throat to cut?

Wilhelm's strikes became more aggressive, faster, harder. His breath misted in the freezing air. Sweat beaded on his forehead despite the cold, running down his temples and stinging his eyes.

"Come on then!" he snarled at the empty yard, at the red sky, at the universe itself. "Face me! Let me fight you! Let me cut you!"

But there was no enemy to fight, only the slow, inexorable death of everything.

He spun through a complex combination, his sword a blur of motion. In his prime, this sequence could cut through three men before any of them realised they were dead. It was beautiful, efficient, lethal.

And completely worthless.

Wilhelm finished the combination and stood there panting, his sword still raised. His muscles ached. His joints protested. He wasn't young anymore, hadn't been young for a long time, but he'd kept himself sharp through constant training.

But training for what? For enemies that could be cut? For threats that had throats to slit and hearts to pierce?

"Theresia," he whispered, her name a prayer and a curse. "I've failed you again."

He'd failed her when she died fighting the White Whale. Failed her by not being strong enough to protect her, to fight beside her, to save her from that monster's maw.

And now he was failing her memory by being powerless again. By being unable to protect their family, their grandson, their kingdom. By standing in this frozen yard with a sword that couldn't cut the problems that mattered.

Wilhelm lowered his blade and stared at it. The steel gleamed dully in the red light, perfectly maintained despite everything. He'd kept it sharp, kept it oiled, kept it ready for battle.

Ready for what battle? Against who?

"The White Whale is dead," he said to the empty yard. "I avenged you, my love. I cut that beast apart with these hands, with this blade. I felt its blood on my skin and I knew you were watching, knew you were proud."

His voice cracked. "But what good did it do? The world is ending anyway. Crusch is dying from a curse I can't cut. Reinhard is broken and I am too scared to even look at him. Heinkel is... Heinkel. And I stand here with my sword like it matters, like I matter, like anything I've ever done made a difference."

He raised the blade again and attacked the air with renewed fury. Strike after strike, combination after combination, techniques that had taken years to master pouring out in desperate sequence.

"I fought in the Demi-Human War! I slew the White Whale! I've killed more men than I can count!" Each sentence was punctuated by another strike, the sword whistling through air. "I mastered the blade! I perfected my art! I became the Sword Devil!"

He spun and slashed, his movements becoming almost wild. "And I'm USELESS! Completely and utterly useless! My wife is dead, my son is a drunk, my grandson is breaking apart, and I can't do ANYTHING about it!"

Wilhelm's strikes became even more frantic, less controlled. His perfect form started to slip, desperation overriding discipline.

He stabbed forward with all his strength, burying his blade in one of the training posts. The wood split with a satisfying crack. Wilhelm left it there, embedded to the hilt, and stepped back breathing heavily.

His hands were shaking from rage and grief and helplessness all mixed together into something that felt like it would tear him apart from the inside.

"I'm sorry, Theresia," he whispered. "I'm so sorry. You died believing I'd protect what we built. Protect our family. Protect our legacy. And I've failed at all of it."

The training yard was silent except for his laboured breathing and the distant sounds of the dying city. Somewhere out there, people were freezing. Children were going hungry. The thin veneer of civilisation was cracking apart.

And Wilhelm van Astrea, the Sword Devil, could only watch with a useless blade in his hand.

He thought about Reinhard, about his grandson's breakdown. About the words Heinkel had mentioned in passing, about how Reinhard blamed himself for everything. About how the boy had been crushed under the weight of being perfect, of being the Sword Saint, of being expected to solve every problem.

Wilhelm had contributed to that. He knew he had. After Theresia's death, he'd blamed Reinhard for surviving when she hadn't. For taking the Divine Protection that might have saved her. For being alive when she was dead.

It hadn't been fair. It hadn't been right. But grief made people cruel, and Wilhelm had been drowning in grief for so long he'd forgotten how to be anything else.

"I've failed you, boy," Wilhelm said, though Reinhard wasn't there to hear it. "I've failed you just like I failed your mother. I put the weight of my loss on your shoulders when you were just a child."

But apologies didn't matter now. Nothing mattered now except the slow death of everything.

Wilhelm pulled his sword from the training post and cleaned the blade with mechanical precision. The ritual of care was soothing, familiar, something he could do even when everything else was falling apart.

When the blade was clean and returned to its sheath, Wilhelm stood in the yard and looked up at the red sun. It hung in the sky like a wound, like a dying ember, casting its sickly light over a world that was freezing beneath it.

"I don't know how to fight you," Wilhelm said to the sky. "I don't know how to protect anyone from you. I've spent my whole life mastering the sword, and it means nothing. I'm nothing."

The cold wind bit at his face, carrying with it the scent of smoke and death from the city. Wilhelm closed his eyes and let it wash over him, let himself feel the full weight of his uselessness.

He'd wanted to die when Theresia was taken from him. Had wanted to throw himself at the White Whale until it killed him too, just so he didn't have to feel the emptiness anymore.

But he'd survived. Had kept going out of spite and rage and the desperate need for vengeance. Had kept himself sharp for the day he could cut down the beast that had taken his wife.

And he'd succeeded. He'd helped kill the White Whale, had struck the final blow, had watched that monster die and felt satisfaction for the first time in years.

But what had it accomplished? Theresia was still dead. The world was still ending. And Wilhelm was still useless with a sword that couldn't cut the enemies that mattered.

"I'm tired," Wilhelm whispered to the empty yard. "Theresia, I'm so tired".

He opened his eyes and looked at his hands. Weathered, scarred, callused from decades of gripping a sword hilt. These hands had killed so many people. Had mastered techniques that could cut through anything.

But they couldn't save anyone now.

Wilhelm sheathed his sword and walked back toward the mansion, his footsteps heavy. The training had accomplished nothing, had solved nothing, had changed nothing.

Tomorrow he would train again. Would go through the forms, perfect his technique, maintain his edge. Because it was all he knew how to do, even if it meant nothing.

He was the Sword Devil, and even at the end of the world, a devil could only do what his nature demanded.

Even if it was completely and utterly pointless.

Ram walked down the hallway toward Rem's room with her steps measured and controlled. She made this journey three times a day now, a ritual that gave structure to days that otherwise blurred together in meaningless succession.

Morning visit: check on Rem's breathing, adjust her blankets, make sure she was warm enough in this terrible cold.

Afternoon visit: read aloud from whatever book was at hand, fill the silence with words even though Rem couldn't hear them.

Evening visit: sit in silence, hold her sister's hand, and allow herself to feel the grief she kept locked away the rest of the day.

Ram stopped outside Rem's door and took a deep breath, composing herself. She was Ram of the Roswaal Manor, master servant and right hand to Roswaal L. Mathers. She didn't break down. She didn't lose control. She was perfect in all things at all times.

But that facade was getting harder to maintain with each passing day.

She pushed open the door and stepped inside. The room was cold despite the fire crystal burning in the corner, its meagre warmth barely making a dent in the freezing air. Rem lay on the bed exactly as she always did, her face peaceful in sleep, her breathing slow and steady.

She looked like she might wake up at any moment. Like Ram could shake her shoulder and she'd open her eyes and smile and everything would be fine.

But she wouldn't. Ram knew she wouldn't.

"Good evening, sister," Ram said, moving to sit in the chair beside the bed. Her voice was perfectly controlled, betraying none of the turmoil beneath. "Ram hopes you're resting well."

Silence answered her. It always did.

Ram reached out and took Rem's hand, feeling the coolness of her skin. They'd piled extra blankets on her but it never seemed to be enough. The cold was seeping into everything, claiming everything, and Rem was so vulnerable lying here unable to move or defend herself.

"The world continues its descent into chaos," Ram continued, her tone conversational despite the horror of the words. "The sun remains dead. The divine protections remain absent. People are freezing in the streets. But Ram is managing the household efficiently, as always."

She paused, studying her sister's face for any sign of response. There was none.

"Ram has been thinking," she said quietly. "About what will happen if things don't improve. About how long the supplies will last, how cold it will get, whether we'll be able to keep you warm and safe through what's coming."

Her hand tightened on Rem's.

"Ram is scared, sister. Ram won't admit that to anyone else, but Ram is terrified that Ram will fail to protect you. That all of Ram's efforts will be meaningless and you'll die here in your sleep without ever knowing Ram was trying to save you."

The tears came without permission, sliding down her cheeks despite her best efforts to control them. Ram didn't let go of Rem's hand, didn't look away from her face, just let the tears fall while she spoke.

"Ram misses you," she whispered.

"Ram doesn't even remember you properly. The memories are gone, eaten by that monster in Priestella. But Ram knows you're Ram's sister. Ram knows you matter more than anything else in this world. And Ram knows that losing you would destroy Ram. Ram doesn't need synesthesia to love you and feel you."

The tears were falling faster now, dripping onto their clasped hands. Ram's perfect composure had finally shattered, leaving behind just a terrified girl watching her sister wither and unable to do anything to stop it.

"Please wake up, Rem," Ram whispered. "Ram knows you can't hear this. Ram knows you're trapped somewhere in your own mind where Ram can't reach you. But please. Please wake up. The world is ending and Ram needs you."

She stayed like that for a long time, crying silently while holding her sister's hand, letting herself feel all the fear and grief and helplessness she couldn't allow herself to feel anywhere else.

Outside in the hallway, Emilia stood with her back pressed against the wall beside Rem's door. She'd been on her way to her own room when she'd heard Ram's voice through the door, had stopped to listen despite knowing she shouldn't eavesdrop.

Now she stood frozen, her own eyes welling with tears as she heard Ram's breakdown. She'd never heard the proud maid sound so vulnerable, so broken, so utterly lost.

Emilia wanted to go in, wanted to offer comfort, wanted to do something to help. But this was Ram's private moment with her sister, and interrupting would be a cruelty.

So Emilia just stood there in the hallway, listening to Ram cry and feeling her own heart break for both sisters. Eventually Ram's sobs quieted, and Emilia heard her speaking again in a more controlled voice, reading aloud from a book like she always did.

Emilia slipped away quietly.

Otto Suwen sat at his desk in Roswaal's manor surrounded by papers, books, and empty bottles. The red light filtering through the window made the words on the pages dance and blur, or maybe that was the alcohol. He couldn't tell anymore.

The silence was driving him mad.

For as long as he could remember, Otto had lived in a world of voices. The Divine Protection of Soul Language had let him communicate with everything: insects, animals, plants, the nature itself. He could hear their thoughts, their feelings, their perspectives on the world.

A merchant's ground dragon would tell him about the quality of care it received. Birds would gossip about events they'd witnessed. The wind would whisper warnings about coming storms.

The world had never been quiet. Even in the dead of night, there had always been the murmur of life all around him, the constant companionship of a thousand small voices keeping him company, giving him information, making him feel connected to everything.

Now there was nothing but terrible, oppressive, maddening silence.

Otto took another drink from the bottle beside him, barely tasting the burn anymore. His eyes were red-rimmed from exhaustion, his hair dishevelled from running his hands through it compulsively. Papers covered every surface of his temporary office: trade routes and supply calculations and desperate attempts to find some solution to the catastrophe unfolding around them.

But how could he find solutions when half his ability to gather information was gone?

"Talk to me," he whispered, pressing his palm against the wooden surface of the desk. "Please, someone... just say something. Anything."

The world remained silent, dead and inert beneath his hand.

He'd tried everything. Tried talking to the ground dragons in the stable, but they just stared at him with blank animal eyes. Tried asking the birds outside his window for news from the city, but they only chirped meaningless sounds. He crawled like an animal next to insects, but... Nothing. Just silence.

"There has to be something," Otto muttered, reaching for another bottle. His hands were shaking badly enough that he almost knocked it over. "There has to be a solution. Always a solution. Just have to find the right angle..."

But what angle? What solution? The sun was dying, divine protections were gone, people were freezing in the streets. What could one powerless merchant do against the end of the world?

He'd been going through every document in the manor's library, searching for anything that might explain what was happening. Ancient texts about Od Laguna, historical records of previous catastrophes, even fairy tales about the end times.

Otto stood up too fast and had to grab the desk to keep from falling. The room spun around him. How many bottles had he drunk? Three? Four? He'd lost count.

"Need to keep looking," he slurred to himself. "Can't give up. Emilia-sama wouldn't give up. Can't be the one who gives up..."

Otto stumbled through his quarters, his hands grasping at book spines. He yanked volumes free and let them fall to the floor. His vision swam; red light bled into darkness, and alcohol softened everything, making it feel distant. 

"Something," he slurred, pawing at pages. "There has to be something. Hidden knowledge, secret solution. There’s always an answer; you just have to look hard enough..."

His foot caught on a fallen book, and he went down hard. The impact jolted his body; books exploded outward, and pain shot through his knee. He barely registered it through the thick fog of drink.

When his eyes focused again, one book lay open in front of him. That book. The burnt, ruined Tome of Wisdom he had tried so hard to repair but failed. 

"Useless," Otto spat, reaching to shove it away. "You’re as useless as -"

He froze. 

The charred pages were changing. Words appeared on the blackened surface like frost forming on glass, shimmering faintly in the crimson light. Otto's breath caught. He dragged himself closer, his heart suddenly pounding. He strained to read the letters as they formed with agonising slowness: 

"If this world in its form is to be spared from the inevitable descent into absolute ruin, the one known as Natsuki Subaru must be eliminated from existence."

As a small teaser, here is one scene that will happen in the future Capella/Subaru confrontation:

Chapter Text

The Sage Council chamber felt smaller than it should have. Fifteen people crammed into a space designed for dignified deliberation, but dignity had died with the sun. The red light filtering through the stained glass windows painted everyone in shades of rust and blood.

Miklotov McMahon's aged hands trembled as he gripped the edge of the table. "The fourth district reported another thirty-seven deaths this morning. Hypothermia. Starvation. Violence over the last fire crystals."

"Forty-two in the fifth," Bordeaux Zergev added, his voice hollow. "The city guard found a mother who'd -" He stopped, jaw working. "She'd eaten her own child."

Silence crashed through the room.

Emilia's hands clenched in her lap. She could still feel the cold from her morning walk through the capital's streets, frost creeping across buildings that should have been warm. People huddled in doorways, their breath fogging, their eyes empty. A woman had reached for her cloak, begging for warmth, and Emilia had given it without thinking. The woman had wept.

"The trade routes from Kararagi have completely collapsed," Anastasia said quietly. Her merchant's composure was fraying at the edges. "Even if we had coin, there's nothin' to buy. No food. No supplies. The caravans aren't runnin' anymore - can't run when the ground dragons are barely faster than a man at a jog."

Otto cleared his throat. He looked worse than Emilia had ever seen him, dark circles under his eyes, his usual composed appearance abandoned. His jacket was rumpled, his hair uncombed. "The economic projections are... they're catastrophic. The capital has perhaps two months of viable food stores. After that, we'll need to implement rationing protocols that will still result in mass starvation within a month."

He spread papers across the table, charts and figures that told the story of a kingdom's death in neat columns. "Even if we implement emergency measures today - full rationing, commandeering of private food stocks, suspension of normal trade laws - we're looking at a sixty percent mortality rate within three months. That's assuming no additional catastrophes."

"Rationing protocols." Wilhelm's voice cut through like a blade scraping stone. The Sword Devil sat with his arms crossed, his weathered face unreadable. "Polite words for choosing who lives and who dies."

"We don't have a choice!" Bordeaux slammed his fist on the table. "The divine protections are gone! The sun is dying! Everything we built, everything that made this kingdom function, this world function - it's all collapsing!"

Ricardo shifted in his seat, his feline features set in a grim expression. "Been through bad times before, but nothin' like this. We had hope things'd get better. Now?" He shook his head. "People are scared. Real scared. The kind of scared that makes folks do things they'd never consider otherwise."

"The city guard is reporting increased incidents of violence every day," Julius added. His purple hair was dishevelled, his uniform less pristine than usual. "Not just theft or assault. We've had three cases of murder over food supplies in the past week alone. People are turning on their neighbours, their families. The social fabric that holds this city together is tearing apart."

Felt slouched in her chair, her red eyes tracking each speaker. She'd cleaned up since becoming a royal candidate, but her posture still carried the streets. "Sounds like you're all dancing around the real problem. You got resources, yeah? The royal family's warehouses, the noble stockpiles, all that stuff the rich have been hoardin' for generations. But you're too scared to actually use 'em because that'd mean admittin' things are really that bad."

"It's not that simple," Miklotov protested. "Those reserves represent - "

"Food that people need right now," Felt interrupted. "While you're countin' coins and worryin' about protocols, people are dyin'. I've seen it. You all have. So either do somethin' about it or stop pretendin' you give a damn."

Miklotov's face flushed. "Young lady, you may be a royal candidate, but you have no concept of the complexities involved in -"

"Then explain it to us those complexities you spout about Mikltovo," Crusch Karsten said.

Every eye in the room turned to her. She sat straight despite the black veins crawling up her neck, despite the curse eating her from within, despite the amnesia that had stolen most of her past. The Divine Protection of Wind Reading was gone, leaving her blind to lies and truth alike. Her green hair was pulled back severely, emphasizing the pallor of her skin and the dark circles under her amber eyes.

She looked like she should be in a sickbed. Instead, she commanded the room.

"Lady Crusch, with all due respect, your condition - "

"My condition is irrelevant." Crusch's amber eyes swept the table, sharp as cut glass. "What matters is that we have a kingdom to govern and people dying in our streets. So we will adapt, or we will watch everything burn."

"Easy to say," one of the lesser council members muttered. "But without your Divine Protection, how can we trust your judgment? You can't read the wind anymore. You can't tell truth from lies. For all we know, your condition has compromised your -"

"My condition has compromised nothing except my patience for cowards." Crusch's smile was cold. "Without my Divine Protection, I'm forced to actually listen to the words people say instead of relying on the wind to tell me if they're lying. A novel experience, I'll admit. But I've discovered something interesting - most of you couldn't lie convincingly even with divine assistance."

Felix flinched at his lady's words, his cat ears flattening slightly. He'd positioned himself close to her chair, ready to support her if the curse's effects worsened. His own Divine Protection of Water was gone, leaving him to rely on pure magical skill for healing - skill that was considerable, but no longer supernatural.

Miklotov straightened, affronted. "Lady Crusch, I must object to - "

"You were about to suggest we abandon the outer districts," Crusch continued, her voice cutting through his protest like a knife through silk. "Save resources by consolidating the population into the inner rings where we can maintain order more easily. Let the poor freeze while we preserve the capital's core. Am I wrong?"

The silence that followed was damning.

"I... we must consider all options," Miklotov said weakly.

"Consider this option instead." Crusch leaned forward despite the obvious pain the movement caused, black veins pulsing at her temples. "We open the royal warehouses completely. Every fire crystal, every preserved food store, every resource we've been hoarding for 'emergencies' - we distribute it now. Because if there was ever an emergency, gentlemen, this is it."

"That's insane," Bordeaux protested. "Those reserves are meant to last years in case of - "

"In case of what? Something worse than the sun dying?" Crusch's laugh was sharp. "We hoard resources while people freeze, and you wonder why riots are breaking out? We're creating the very chaos we fear by clinging to protocols designed for a world that no longer exists."

Roswaal, who had been silent until now, stirred. His makeup was slightly smudged, his usual theatrical composure strained. The loss of his ability to swap bodies had aged him in ways that went beyond physical appearance. "Lady Crusch makes an intriguing point. Though I wonder if the good councilmen are more concerned about maintaining order than maintaining lives."

"That's unfair, Lord Roswaal," Miklotov said stiffly. "We're doing everything we can!"

"Are you?" Emilia spoke for the first time, her voice soft but carrying through the chamber. "Because from where I'm sitting, it looks like you're more worried about protecting your positions than protecting your people."

Miklotov's face reddened. "The situation is complex. There are economic factors, social considerations, political ramifications..."

"It's actually very simple." Emilia met his gaze steadily. "People are dying. We have resources that could save them. We're choosing not to use those resources because of politics and fear. That's just cruel."

"The half-elf speaks of cruelty?" One of the council members - Emilia thought his name was Karstein or something similar - sneered. "Rich, coming from someone who bears the Witch's face. For all we know, this calamity is connected to - "

"Finish that sentence." Reinhard van Astrea's voice was quiet, but the room froze. "Please. I'd very much like to hear how you plan to accuse Lady Emilia of responsibility for a global catastrophe."

The Sword Saint sat with an unnatural stillness. Even without his divine protections, even broken and exhausted, Reinhard carried authority in his bones. His red hair caught the dying light, and despite everything, he still looked like a hero from the old stories.

At one point nobody would have expected, nobody would have even tolerated such tone from the sword saint. Whatever had happened at the watchtower changed more than the lack of divine protections implied, it had fundamentally altered Reinhard in a way that terrified most people in positions of power.

The council member paled. "I merely meant - "

"You meant to shift blame because you're terrified and grasping for any explanation that doesn't require you to actually do anything useful." Reinhard's blue eyes were cold. "We're past that now. Either contribute solutions or stop wasting oxygen."

Otto adjusted his glasses nervously. "Perhaps we should focus on what we can control. I've been working on distribution models that could maximize the efficiency of our remaining resources. If we can establish secure supply lines between the warehouses and the outer districts, implement a fair rationing system, and maintain order during the transition - "

"You're assumin' we can maintain order," Anastasia interjected. "People are desperate, Otto-san. Desperate people don't line up nicely for rations. They riot. They steal. They kill. We need security forces to manage any kind of distribution, and our security forces are stretched thinner than paper right now."

Wilhelm nodded grimly. "The city guard has lost over a third of their personnel. Some deserted to protect their own families. Others simply... gave up. And those who remain are exhausted, demoralized, and facing threats they were never trained to handle."

"Then we supplement them," Crusch said. "Every able-bodied person with combat training gets deputized. Mercenaries, adventurers, retired soldiers - anyone who can maintain order gets conscripted and paid from the emergency funds."

"With what money?" Bordeaux demanded. "The treasury is emtpy!"

"There is no treasury if there's no kingdom," Crusch interrupted. "Pay them with the gold you've been hoarding. Pay them with promises. Pay them with food. I don't care. But get them on the streets maintaining order while we implement these distributions."

"Lady Crusch, you're talking about martial law," Miklotov said carefully.

"Far more effective one that you have implemented." Crusch's voice didn't rise, but the steel in it was unmistakable. "Everything else is semantics."

Felt grinned, showing teeth. "Finally, someone talkin' sense. Been sayin' we need to stop tiptoein' around and actually do somethin' for weeks now."

Heinkel Astrea stirred from where he'd been sitting silently. His presence at the meeting had surprised everyone - the Deputy Commander rarely attended official functions anymore, preferring to spend his days drunk and bitter. But today his eyes were clear, his posture straight. "The girl's right. Open the warehouses, distribute the resources, enforce order with every sword we can muster. I will personally train and organise the district guards under my role as a deputy commander."

Reinhard stared at his father, something unreadable flickering across his face. Heinkel didn't meet his eyes.

"Perhaps," Felix said, his voice carrying a unusual tremor, "we should also consider the medical situation. With divine protections gone, injuries that would have been minor are now potentially fatal. There aren't many healers well attuned with water magic. We're seeing infection rates skyrocket. People are dying from wounds that I could have healed with a touch just weeks ago. Now I'm limited to conventional medicine and my remaining mana reserves."

He touched his chest where the Divine Protection of Water had once resided. "We need to establish proper medical stations in each district. Train people in basic first aid. Distribute what medical supplies we have before they're all hoarded by the wealthy."

"Another excellent point," Crusch said. "Wilhelm, work with Felix on the medical infrastructure. Anastasia, you and Otto handle the logistics of warehouse distribution. Roswaal, Lord Heinkel, coordinate with the guard on security measures. Reinhard, Julius—you'll need to be visible. People need to see that we have strength, that order still exists."

Julius shifted uncomfortably. His spirits were gone, leaving him feeling hollow in a way he'd never experienced before. "Without my spirits, I'm not certain how effective - "

"You're still the Finest of Knights," Crusch said firmly pain lancing through her eyes as tremors from Capella's curse shook her. "That.. That title wasn't earned through spirits alone. You trained for years before you contracted spirits. That skill remains."

"As does my sword," Wilhelm added. "Which has never relied on blessings. Only steel and will."

Emilia watched them plan, feeling simultaneously included and separate... The looks some of the council members gave her, the barely concealed suspicion, the fear...

"Lady Emilia," Miklotov said carefully, as if approaching a dangerous animal, "perhaps you could assist with... that is, your ice magic could be useful for... preservation? Of food stores?"

"I can do more than preserve food," Emilia said quietly. "I can protect people. I can fight. I mainly utilise my fire magic by lowering temperature, but I can help with creating and charging fire crystals too. I can -"

"No one's questionin' your capabilities," Anastasia said quickly, shooting a sharp look at Miklotov. "We're gonna need everyone at their best, and that includes you, Lady Emilia."

Roswaal finally spoke again, his mismatched eyes fixed on the table. "The larger concern remains unaddressed. These are temporary measures to extend our survival, but survival alone is not enough. We need to determine the cause of this calamity and find a way to reverse it. Otherwise, we're simply delaying the inevitable."

"Does anyone have any insights on that front?" Miklotov asked, relief evident at shifting to a topic less immediately contentious.

Silence stretched. Then Otto pulled out another set of papers, these ones covered in cramped handwriting. "I've been researching historical records. There are scattered references to similar phenomena throughout history... But this situation is unique. There are no references to Divine Protections or the sun itself just...dying".

Before anyone could answer, the chamber door burst open.

A city guard stumbled in, his armor scorched, his face white with terror. Blood ran from a gash across his forehead, dripping onto the polished floor. "They're here! The Witch Cult - they're attacking the city!"

Reinhard was moving before the words fully registered, his hand going to his hip where his sword should have been. The Reid Dragon Sword was gone, destroyed by his ancestor's impossible technique. Instead he had a random sword chosen from the armoury stuck to his hip.

"How many?" Wilhelm was already on his feet, his hand on his own blade.

"Thousands!" The guard's voice cracked. "They came from the sewers, from the abandoned districts - they're everywhere! And there's a dragon, a massive black dragon breathing dark fire across the second district - "

"Capella," Anastasia breathed, her face going pale.

Felt was up, her hand on the knife at her belt. "We gotta move, now!"

"Agreed." Heinkel Astrea stood, and several people did double-takes. The Deputy Commander looked focused, his eyes clear in a way they hadn't been in years. "Brat, you're with me. We're getting you to the safe room."

"Like hell," Felt snarled. "I'm not hidin' while—"

"You're a royal candidate. One that looks particularly related to that bitch Capella." Heinkel's voice was flat, brooking no argument. "Which makes you a priority target for the Witch Cult. You will go to the safe room, and I will ensure you get there alive. You can yell and get pissed off with me after we all survive."

Felt looked ready to punch him. Her red eyes blazed with fury, fists clenching at her sides. "You drunk bastard think you can order me around - "

"Felt-sama, please listen to my father".

Reinhard stared at his father, something unrecognizable flickering across his face. Heinkel hadn't been sober, hadn't been functional, hadn't been anything resembling a father or a warrior in so long that seeing him like this was disorienting. For a moment, Reinhard saw the man his father used to be - the Deputy Commander, the Astrea, the hero.

"Go," Heinkel said to his son, meeting his eyes for the first time since the meeting began. "Do your job. Protect this city. That's what we Astrea do."

For the first time in what felt like forever, Reinhard smiled. "Thank you, Father."

Then he was gone, moving with the speed that divine protections or not, was still his birthright as an Astrea.

"Wilhelm, Felix." Crusch's voice cut through the chaos with absolute authority despite her condition. "Get me somewhere I can coordinate from. I'm not hiding in a safe room while my city burns."

"My lady - " Felix began, his ears flat against his head.

"That wasn't a request, Felix." She looked at both of them, and something in her gaze made Wilhelm nod grimly.

"Understood. Felix, you're on her right. I'll take the left. We'll secure the eastern watchtower - good vantage point, defensible, close enough to direct forces."

Julius drew his sword, the blade singing as it left the scabbard. No spirits answered the call. The silence where their voices should have been felt like a physical wound. But he stood straight anyway, jaw set. "Anastasia-sama, Ricardo will guard you. I'm going to the front lines."

"Be careful, Julius." Anastasia's voice was soft, carrying worry she rarely let show. "Please. I can't afford to lose you, and I don't just mean strategically."

Ricardo cracked his knuckles, his feline features set in a fierce grin despite the situation. "Don't worry, Ana-bou. Nobody's gettin' past me. Got claws and teeth that don't need blessings to work."

Roswaal moved to Emilia's side, his movements quick despite his usual languid grace being replaced by urgency. "Emilia-sama, we should coordinate our response. Your ice magic and my abilities in combination - "

But Emilia was already running, not waiting for permission or coordination or any of the careful planning they'd been attempting moments ago. She burst through the doors and into the corridor beyond, ice already forming around her hands, frost spreading across the stone floor with each step.

"Emilia!" Roswaal's voice carried after her, but she didn't stop.

She couldn't stop. Not when she could already hear the screams. Not when her people—and despite everything, despite the suspicion and fear directed at her, they were her people now—were dying.

The corridor blurred past as she ran, Roswaal's footsteps pounding behind her. They emerged into the palace courtyard just in time to see the sky darken with smoke and ash.

The capital was burning.

Emilia skidded to a halt in the main plaza, her breath catching at the sight before her. Buildings she'd walked past just this morning were engulfed in flames - but not normal flames. These fires were black, writhing like living things, consuming stone and wood and flesh with equal hunger. The flames didn't spread like natural fire. They moved with purpose, seeking victims, wrapping around them like serpents before burning them from the inside out.

People ran screaming through the streets. Some were already dead, their bodies charred beyond recognition, collapsed in positions that spoke of final agonies. Others crawled, pleading for help that wasn't coming, their hands reaching toward Emilia before the black flames found them too.

A child stood in the middle of the street, crying for her mother. A woman lay nearby, her body half-consumed by the dark fire, still twitching.

And above it all, circling like a nightmare made real, was the dragon.

Massive and black with golden horns that caught the red light of the dying sun, it breathed those terrible flames across the city in sweeping arcs. Each pass left devastation in its wake, entire buildings collapsing into burning rubble. The creature's form was wrong somehow, its proportions shifting slightly between moments as if it couldn't quite decide what shape to hold. One moment its neck was longer, the next its wings were smaller, a constant state of flux that hurt to look at directly.

"Capella," Emilia whispered.

The dragon's head swiveled, golden eyes fixing on her with predatory intelligence. Then it laughed, a sound no dragon should make, feminine and mocking and full of cruel delight.

"Well, well! If it isn't the half-breed!" Capella's voice boomed across the plaza, somehow heard clearly over the screams and roaring flames. "Come to watch your precious kingdom burn? How delightful! How absolutely perfect!"

The dragon swooped lower, its massive form blotting out the red sun. Heat washed over the plaza, intense enough to make the air shimmer. "Tell me, little half-elf, do you like what I've done with the place? I think the black flames really complement the aesthetic of a dying civilization, don't you?"

Roswaal appeared at Emilia's side in a burst of displaced air, his expression grim. 

Capella swooped low, her massive form casting everything in shadow. Black flames erupted from her maw, a torrent of fire that could melt stone, aimed directly at where they stood.

"El Huma!" Emilia thrust her hands forward, massive ice pillars erupting from the ground to meet the flames. Steam exploded outward as fire met ice, obscuring the plaza in a thick white cloud that smelled of sulphur and ozone.

Roswaal didn't wait. "Al Fura!" The wind spell cut through the steam with the force of a hurricane, clearing their vision just in time to see Capella transforming mid-flight.

The dragon's form collapsed inward, flesh and scales rippling like water. The massive creature became smaller, more compact, its shape flowing like liquid metal. In the space of a heartbeat, the dragon had become a person, falling toward them with impossible grace.

A young man with black hair and dark eyes, wearing a tracksuit that looked completely out of place in this medieval world. His features were sharp, carrying a kind of determination that seemed at odds with the mocking grin on his face. He looked like - 

Emilia's mind stuttered. The features tugged at something in her memory, something important, but the name and recognition wouldn't come.

"Like what you see?" The voice was wrong - Capella's, feminine and mocking, coming from a male body. The figure examined its borrowed hands with theatrical interest, flexing fingers, touching its own face. "I've been working on this one especially. I thought you would like it a lot".

The figure turned to face them fully, and despite the borrowed face, the body language was all Capella, confident, cruel. 

"Why that form?" Roswaal demanded, his voice sharp with an edge Emilia rarely heard.

"Why not?" Capella examined the tracksuit with exaggerated interest. "This appearance is connected to so much pain, so much suffering. The Witch loves this face." she pointed at Emilia with a grin that looked wrong on those features, " - you should remember it, shouldn't you? But you can't. How tragic!"

She lunged.

The speed was impossible for someone who'd just transformed, but Capella crossed the thirty feet between them in less than a second. Her hand shot toward Emilia's throat, fingers curled into claws, and Emilia barely managed to throw up an ice shield.

Capella's fingers shattered it like glass.

"Too slow, half-breed!"

Roswaal's spell caught Capella in the side before she could follow through, a concentrated beam of fire that would have incinerated anyone else. The beam punched through Capella's borrowed torso, leaving a hole the size of a fist clean through her chest.

Capella glanced down at the wound, then up at Roswaal. She laughed. "Is that the best you can do, clown?"

The flesh where the spell had hit began to ripple, the wound transforming into something that looked like liquid metal before regenerating completely. Within seconds, there wasn't even a scar. The tracksuit remained damaged, burned fabric revealing unmarred skin beneath.

"My turn!" Capella grabbed a fallen piece of rubble—a chunk of stone the size of a small cart—and hurled it at Roswaal with enough force to shatter a building.

"Ul Huma!" Emilia's spell intercepted the projectile, massive ice pillars erupting to catch it mid-flight. The rubble shattered against the frozen barrier, chunks of stone and ice exploding outward.

But Capella was already moving through the debris field, her borrowed body moving with inhuman flexibility. She twisted between falling rubble, her movements fluid, predatory. This time Emilia was ready.

"Ice Brand Arts!"

A dozen ice weapons materialized in the air around her - spears, swords, halberds, all gleaming with crystalline edges sharp enough to cut through steel. They launched toward Capella simultaneously, coming from every angle, giving no room to dodge.

Capella tried. Her body contorted impossibly, joints bending in ways that should have broken bones. She avoided most of the weapons, but several found their mark.

Blood sprayed. A spear punched through Capella's shoulder, the force of it spinning her mid-air. Another blade opened a deep gash across her ribs, cutting through tracksuit and flesh alike. A third caught her leg, nearly severing it at the thigh.

She hit the ground hard, skidding across the plaza stones, leaving a trail of blood.

And she laughed harder.

"Yes! That's more like it!" Capella pushed herself up despite the spear through her shoulder, despite the blood pouring from multiple wounds. Her injured flesh began to bubble and shift, the injuries healing as her body transformed around the embedded weapons. "But you're still holding back! Where's that famous ice magic? Where's the power that froze an entire forest and killed everyone in it? Oooh... Is little pure Emilia afraid, did Pandora-chan scare her?"

Emilia's mind went blank. Her mana surged, responding to her anger and fear. Frost spread across the plaza in waves, the temperature plummeting. Breath fogged. Stones cracked from the sudden cold. The black flames guttered and died wherever her ice reached."

"Emilia, wait - " Roswaal's warning came too late.

Emilia released the spell building inside her, and the world turned white. Ice exploded outward in a hemisphere, flash-freezing everything in a hundred-meter radius. Buildings were encased in ice in the span of a heartbeat. Rubble became crystallised sculptures. The few remaining people who hadn't fled - merchants, guards, civilians caught in the wrong place at the wrong time - were frozen mid-motion, their final moments of terror preserved forever in translucent ice.

The air itself seemed to fracture, condensed nitrogen snow hanging suspended like diamond dust catching the red light of the dying sun.

When the light faded, Capella stood in the center of the devastation, completely unharmed. Her borrowed body had transformed again, the male features becoming metallic, skin turning to what looked like liquid silver that reflected the ice around her like a mirror. The tracksuit had vanished, replaced by that revealing outfit Emilia recognized - hot pants, a bikini top, nothing else. But the face remained the same, that male visage now rendered in living metal.

"Beautiful!" Capella spread her arms wide, the metallic form catching light and throwing it back in prismatic bursts. "Absolutely beautiful! Look what you've created - a monument to your own destructive power! All these people, frozen forever because you couldn't control yourself. So much power, so little control. So much LOVE!"

She looked around at the frozen civilians, her metallic face approximating a grin. "How many this time? Thirty? Forty? You didn't even check before you released that spell, did you? Just lashed out like a child having a tantrum."

Emilia stared at the ice-locked people, horror dawning. She'd meant to freeze just Capella, to stop the Archbishop before she could transform again. But the spell had been too strong, too broad, fed by anger she hadn't properly controlled.

"Don't listen to her," Roswaal said quietly. "She's trying to - "

"Trying to what? Tell the truth?" Capella's laugh was mocking. "The half-breed killed dozens of innocents because she was too angry to aim properly. That's your future queen. Hahaha. Mineself would be so much better suited for that rule. I have got the name of a queen too, don't I?"

Capella's metallic form began to shift again, the liquid silver flowing, reforming. Within moments, she was back to the male form from before - the tracksuit-wearing young man with dark eyes and black hair. But now Emilia could see the wrongness more clearly. The mannerisms were too feminine. The voice didn't match the appearance. The grin was too cruel.

"You know what?" Capella said, examining her borrowed hands again. "I think I'll keep this form for a while. It's just so perfectly ironic, don't you think? The face of the person who should have been your ally, your friend, maybe something more - used against you by someone who wants nothing but your suffering."

She locked eyes with Emilia. "Tell me, half-breed - does it hurt? Looking at this face and feeling nothing? Knowing you should remember but can't? That's the gift we gave you. The gift of forgetting someone important."

Emilia's hands clenched, ice forming between her fingers. "I don't know who you're pretending to be, but it won't work. You're just a monster wearing stolen skin."

"Oh, but I'm wearing it so well!" Capella struck a pose, hamming it up. "This person - this nobody you can't remember - they cared about you, you know, would die for you, had soooo much love for you. And now you can't even recall their name. How tragic! How utterly perfect!"

She lunged again, and this time Roswaal was ready. Multiple spells launched simultaneously - fire, wind, ice, earth - all converging on Capella's position. The Archbishop dodged most of them with that inhuman speed, but several hit home. An explosion of flame consumed her left side. A wind blade took off her right arm. An earth spike punched through her stomach.

Capella hit the ground, wounds covering her borrowed body. Blood pooled beneath her, more blood than should be possible for someone still conscious.

"Not bad, not bad," she gasped. Then giggled. "But here's the fun part - it doesn't matter!"

Her wounds healed instantly. The missing arm regrew in seconds, flesh flowing like water to form new tissue, new bone, new skin. The burns faded. The hole in her stomach closed.

Within five seconds, Capella stood whole again, grinning with that wrong smile on the borrowed face.

"You can't kill me," she said simply. "You can barely hurt me. And while this has been fun, I'm getting bored. So how about - "

She transformed again, faster than before. The male form exploded outward, flesh rippling and expanding. Within two heartbeats, the dragon was back, larger than before, its black scales gleaming wetly in the red light - "we increase the stakes!"

Black flames erupted from the dragon's maw in a torrent, sweeping across the plaza. Emilia threw up ice barriers, but the flames were too hot, too concentrated. The ice melted almost as fast as she could create it.

"Al Fura!" Roswaal's wind spell caught the flames and redirected them upward, away from the plaza and into the sky.

"Can't keep that up forever, can you?" Capella's dragon form circled above them. "And I can breathe fire all day. Eventually, you'll slip. Eventually, everyone here dies. That's just math."

She was right. Emilia knew it, and the knowledge tasted like ash. They couldn't win this. Capella was too strong, too adaptable. "No." Emilia's voice was flat. "We can't stop fighting. If we retreat, she burns the rest of the city."

She gestured to the surrounding districts. Black flames were spreading, consuming building after building. Capella had probably scattered transformations of herself throughout the capital - all breathing those terrible flames.

"Then what do you suggest?" Roswaal demanded.

Before Emilia could answer, Capella transformed again. The dragon vanished, replaced once more by the male form in the tracksuit. But this time, the transformation was more complete. The voice that came from the borrowed throat was different - deeper, more masculine, carrying an accent Emilia didn't recognize.

The borrowed face twisted into an expression of exaggerated grief. "Oh no! The capital is burning! Whatever shall I do?" Then it shifted to a manic grin. "Oh wait, I'm the one burning it! How silly of me!"

Emilia's ice magic surged again, but this time it was colder, more focused. She wasn't trying to freeze the area anymore - she was trying to freeze Capella specifically, to lock her in place, to stop the transformations.

"Ice Brand Arts: Icicle Line!"

A barrier of ice particles formed around Capella, a sphere of cold that began to crystallize the air itself. The Archbishop tried to leap away, but the sphere moved with her, contracting, intensifying.

"Clever," Capella admitted. Her breath fogged inside the sphere. "Very clever. But here's the thing about ice, half-breed - "

Her body transformed into that metallic form again, and suddenly the cold didn't affect her. The liquid metal skin simply didn't freeze, conducting heat from somewhere inside her transformed body.

"- it doesn't work on everything."

She punched through the ice barrier like it wasn't there, shattering Emilia's spell with pure physical force. Then she was closing the distance again, moving with speed that Emilia couldn't track.

A fist caught Emilia in the stomach. The air exploded from her lungs. She doubled over, gasping, and Capella's knee came up toward her face.

Roswaal's spell intercepted it just in time - a concentrated blast of fire that forced Capella to twist away. But even as she dodged, her free hand was already moving, grabbing for Emilia's throat.

Ice formed around Emilia's neck as Capella's fingers closed, a thin barrier of frozen protection. It wouldn't hold long, but it gave Emilia enough time to counter.

"Al Huma!"

The massive ice pillar erupted directly beneath Capella, launching her into the air with bone-breaking force. The Archbishop tumbled, her metallic form ringing like a bell as she hit the pillar's peak.

"Good!" Capella shouted from above. "That's what I wanted! Show me more! Show me the power that makes everyone fear you!"

She fell back toward them, and halfway down, she transformed into a swarm of rats, hundreds of them, all with that same liquid metal skin. They scattered in every direction, impossible to target, moving with coordinated intelligence that normal rats could never possess.

"Try freezing all of them!" Capella's voice came from every rat simultaneously, a chorus of mocking laughter.

The swarm converged on Emilia from all sides. Each rat carried those terrible black flames in its mouth, tiny sparks that would burn just as hot as the dragon's breath. If even one reached her - 

"El Fura! Ul Goa!" Roswaal's wind spell swept through the plaza like a tornado, catching rats and flinging them away while fire burnt away any of them that evaded the wind.

Emilia released her ice magic in all directions at once, not trying for precision anymore, just raw power. Frost exploded outward in waves, freezing rats mid-leap, crystallizing the air, turning the plaza into a winter landscape.

When the spell faded, dozens of rats were frozen in ice sculptures. But dozens more had survived, and they were reforming, flowing together, becoming Capella again.

The Archbishop stood before them, back in the male form, breathing hard for the first time since the fight began. Her tracksuit was torn and burned, showing patches of metallic skin beneath.

"You're getting better," Capella admitted. "Starting to really fight instead of holding back. But you know what? I'm bored of this form. Let me show you something else."

She transformed again, and this time the result made Roswaal curse.

Capella became an exact copy of Emilia.

Same silver hair. Same violet eyes. Same face, same body, same everything. The only difference was the outfit - Capella kept her revealing clothes, which looked bizarre on Emilia's features.

"What do you think?" Capella asked, and even the voice was perfect. "Think anyone will be able to tell us apart? Maybe I should go introduce myself to the Sage Council, claim you've been replaced by the real Witch of Envy, and watch them execute you. That would be fun!"

"Change back," Emilia said, her voice dangerous.

"Why? Don't like seeing yourself? Or maybe - "Capella's stolen face twisted into a leer, " - you don't like being reminded that you and the Witch are identical? That everyone who looks at you sees her? That no matter what you do, you'll always be just a pale copy of the real thing?"

Roswaal fired without warning, a spell designed to obliterate, but Capella was already moving, using Emilia's face to dodge with grace that the real Emilia couldn't quite match.

"Temper, temper!" Capella scolded in Emilia's voice. "Is that any way to treat a royal candidate? What will people think?"

She gestured to the surrounding buildings, and Emilia realized with horror that people were watching. Civilians who'd emerged from hiding, drawn by the sounds of battle, now saw two Emilias fighting in the plaza. Saw one who looked like a hero, using ice magic to fight. And saw another in revealing clothes, laughing and mocking.

"Which one is the real half-breed, do you think?" Capella called out to the watching crowd. "The one trying to kill me? Or the one just defending herself? Maybe neither! Maybe we're both Witches, and you're all doomed regardless!"

Some of the watchers fled. Others remained, frozen by fear or morbid curiosity.

"Enough!" Emilia's magic surged again, her anger finally overriding her control. "Stop wearing that face!"

"Make me!" Capella taunted. "Oh wait, you can't! Because to stop me, you'd have to kill me, and you can't kill me, and even if you could, you'd probably freeze another fifty civilians while you were trying!"

It was too much. The mockery, the stolen face, the reminder of her lack of control, everything. Emilia released the spell she'd been building, the one she'd sworn she'd only use as a last resort.

The temperature in the plaza collapsed. The very atmosphere froze, air solidifying into crystalline structures. Time itself seemed to slow as entropy ground to a halt within the spell's area of effect.

Capella's stolen expression shifted from mockery to genuine surprise as the freezing spread toward her. Her body tried to transform, but the cold was too fast, too absolute. It caught her mid-change, freezing flesh that was half-melted, crystallizing forms that were neither one thing nor another.

Within three seconds, Capella was frozen solid, trapped in a block of ice so cold it burned to look at.

The plaza was silent except for Emilia's ragged breathing. She stood in the center of a winter landscape that shouldn't exist in summer, surrounded by frozen civilians who'd been caught in the spell's edge, and stared at the frozen Archbishop.

"Is she..." Roswaal began.

"Dead?" Emilia finished.

They approached the frozen block cautiously. Inside, they could see Capella's trapped form, frozen in a twisted mockery of Emilia's appearance, her expression locked in that moment of surprise.

"We need to destroy the ice," Roswaal said. "Make sure she can't regenerate when it thaws."

"It won't thaw," Emilia said quietly but confidently.

"Then we should - "

The ice cracked.

A single line appeared in the perfect crystalline surface, so thin it was almost invisible. Then another. And another.

The block shattered.

Capella stood amid the fragments, her body still shifting between forms, unable to settle on one. Parts of her were still frozen, but she was moving through it, transforming so quickly that the ice couldn't keep up.

"Impressive!" Capella's voice was distorted, coming from a mouth that was half-frozen, half-melted. "Very impressive! I almost died there! I am almost proud of you!"

She finished transforming, and suddenly she was the male form again - that tracksuit-wearing young man with dark eyes.

Capella's grin widened. "This has been fun, half-breed, but I've got places to be. Can't let Sirius have all the attention. So how about we call it here?"

"You're not going anywhere," Emilia said, ice already forming.

"Oh, but I am." Capella's body began to ripple. "You can't stop me. Proved that already. And honestly? I'm done playing with you. You're strong, but you're not what I'm looking. If I had wished you dead, you would not have been standing here, so make sure to say thank you Mother Capella before going to sleep at night".

Before Emilia could respond, Capella's body exploded into that swarm of rats again. But this time, they didn't attack. They scattered in every direction, dozens becoming hundreds becoming thousands, spreading through the city too fast to track or stop.

Within seconds, Capella was gone, and all that remained was destruction.

Emilia stood panting in the center of the frozen plaza, surrounded by ice-locked civilians and the burning ruins of buildings. Her mana reserves were dangerously low, her body shaking from exertion and cold.

"Roswaal," she said quietly. "The people I froze - can we - "

"I'll try," Roswaal said, already moving to examine the nearest frozen civilian. "But Emilia-sama... some of these are beyond saving. Their bodies stopped functioning at the molecular level. Even if we thaw them, they're - "

"Dead," Emilia finished, her voice hollow. "I killed them. Trying to stop Capella, and I killed them."

"You did what you had to," Roswaal said firmly. "Capella would have killed far more if you hadn't stopped her."

"Did I stop her? She left. She chose to leave. I didn't stop anything."

Before Roswaal could respond, screams erupted from the east, toward the main square. Different screams than before - synchronized, as if a hundred voices were crying out in perfect unison.

"Sirius," Emilia breathed, recognizing the authority at work.

She looked at Roswaal, at the frozen civilians, at the burning city around them. Every instinct screamed to stay, to try to save who she could here. But those screams from the east - 

"Go," Roswaal said, reading her expression. "I'll handle this. You're needed elsewhere."

Emilia hesitated only a moment. Then she ran, leaving the frozen plaza behind, toward whatever fresh horror awaited in the dying light of the red sun.

"This is the stupidest plan you've ever had, Master," Shaula said cheerfully as they crept through the capital's sewers. "And I've known you for four hundred years, so that's saying something!"

Subaru wiped muck from his face, trying not to think about what exactly was floating in the ankle-deep water around them. The smell was indescribable - a mixture of human waste, rotting vegetation, and something chemical that made his eyes water.

"It's not stupid if it works," he muttered, navigating around what looked like a collapsed support beam. The sewers were in worse shape than he'd expected, more evidence of the kingdom's decay.

"It's stupid regardless of whether it works. Those are independent variables." Shaula's voice carried that bright enthusiasm that suggested she was having a wonderful time despite the circumstances.

"Did you just use the phrase 'independent variables'?"

"Master taught it to me!" Shaula's pride was audible even in the darkness. "I didn't really understand the explanation, but I remembered the words because they sounded smart!"

"Shh.. we're trying to be stealthy here."

"Ohhh, right!" Shaula immediately dropped her voice to what she probably thought was a whisper but was actually just slightly quieter than normal volume. "Sneaky sneaky! Like when Master used to sneak into that elf village to see Satella onee-sama! Except that always ended with Master getting caught. This will be different though, right Master?"

"Hopefully very different," Subaru said drily having no recollection of that memory but still blushing slightly at the thought of him doing something like that.

They moved through the darkness, Polaris providing just enough light to navigate by. The fire spirit seemed agitated, her flames flickering nervously, casting dancing shadows on the curved walls.

"I know, girl," Subaru murmured to the spirit. "I don't like it either. But we need Sirius. She's the only lead we have on where the rest of the Cult is hiding."

The plan was simple in concept, suicidal in execution. The capital was under lock-down, the gates sealed, the walls manned by what guards remained. Getting in through normal means would be impossible, and even if Subaru could have talked his way past the guards, he needed to move unseen.

So they'd taken the abnormal route.

The sewer systems connected to old maintenance tunnels that predated the current capital by centuries - apparently designed by himself and Farsel Lugunica.

"Master seems more aggressive lately," Shaula observed as they navigated a particularly disgusting junction where three tunnels met in a pool of standing water. "It's kind of hot?"

"What?"

"Nothing!" Shaula's voice was suddenly bright and innocent. "Shaula was just remembering that poor guard she almost tortured for information! Master was very persuasive in getting him to talk!"

Subaru winced at the memory. He'd gone into that interrogation intending to be reasonable, but something in the guard's attempt to play dumb had snapped something inside him. He hadn't hurt the man - Shaula had made sure of that by being present, her threat of violence enough without needing to follow through - but the fear Subaru had inspired...

"I didn't hurt him," Subaru said defensively.

"No, but Master made him think Master would! Very efficiently too! Shaula was impressed! Usually Master is all 'please' and 'thank you' and 'let's talk this out peacefully.' But lately Master's been more... forceful? Direct? Is this character growth? I thinks it might be character growth!"

"It's called desperation."

"Potato, potato!" Shaula said cheerfully, completely mangling the idiom.

They emerged from the sewers into a maintenance corridor that looked like it hadn't been used in decades. Cobwebs draped from the ceiling in thick curtains, and the air smelled of dust and old stone instead of sewage - a marked improvement that Subaru appreciated immensely.

"The prison tower should be three levels up," Subaru said, checking his mental map. The guard had been very specific about the layout before his fear had overwhelmed his loyalty. "We find Sirius's containment cell, I use my Authority to break the seals, we grab her, and we run."

"And if she tries to kill us?"

"Then you shoot her with Hell's Snipe. Non-lethally if possible, but I'll settle for 'not immediately fatal' at this point."

"Gotcha!" Shaula gave him an enthusiastic thumbs up that somehow looked wrong in the dim light from Polaris. "This is just like old times, Master! You make the questionable decisions. I give you the overwhelming firepower, everything explodes!"

"Nothing is going to explode this time."

"Master says that every time," Shaula said with the certainty of someone who had witnessed many explosions.

They climbed through the maintenance corridors, using a mixture of Subaru's Invisible Providence to quietly move obstacles and Shaula's inhuman strength to force open sealed doors that had rusted shut over decades. The deeper they went into the capital's infrastructure, the more evidence of collapse they found.

Frost crept along stone walls that should have been insulated. Support beams had stress fractures that hadn't been there weeks ago. In one corridor, they found a section of ceiling that had partially collapsed, rubble blocking half the passage. The entire structure felt fragile, as if one good push would bring it all down.

They reached the prison level without encountering any guards - which should have been suspicious, should have raised all sorts of red flags, but Subaru was too focused to care. The corridor stretched before them, lit by failing mage lights that flickered like dying stars. Each flicker cast strange shadows, making it look like the walls were breathing.

At the far end, he could see it: a reinforced door with glowing runes carved into its surface, pulsing with the sickly light of containment magic. Even from this distance, Subaru could feel the power radiating from those seals - multiple layers of binding, designed to hold something that should never be let free.

"That's it," Subaru breathed.

They started forward, and Subaru felt his Authority coiling inside him in anticipation. This was going to work. It had to work. He'd get Sirius, interrogate her, find out where the Cult was hiding, and - 

The world twisted.

Reality bent around them like water circling a drain. Subaru's vision fractured, the corridor multiplying into impossible geometries that hurt to look at. Up became down, left became right, and distance lost all meaning. Shaula's hand vanished from his shoulder, and he couldn't tell if she was still beside him or if she'd been displaced into one of the other corridors that were and weren't there.

A figure materialized in the impossible space.

A girl...No, a woman - small and delicate, with platinum hair that seemed to glow with its own light. She wore simple white fabric draped over her like a poncho, and her eyes were the deepest blue Subaru had ever seen, with slit pupils that marked her as inhuman. Beautiful didn't begin to describe her. Looking at her felt like staring at the sun - painful and impossible to look away from. Just her presence made Subaru's body want to kneel, to worship, to do whatever she commanded. Subaru was shaking trying to control his emotions and his own body from quivering.

She smiled, and the expression was almost sad.

"To say one small change would lead to such exquisitely pleasant consequences." Her voice was soft, almost gentle, carrying a musical quality that made Subaru's chest ache. "Truly, you are an amazing person, Natsuki Subaru."

Subaru's hand moved toward his whip, but his body wouldn't respond properly. The space around him felt thick, resistant, like moving through honey. Every motion was slow, dream-like, disconnected from his intentions.

"Who - " he managed to force out.

Darkness swallowed him whole.

---

Consciousness returned like surfacing from deep water and he heard it, muffled but still easily recognisable - Screams, lots of screams.

"Master!" Shaula grabbed his arm, her consciousness coming back slowly, pulling him toward the window at the corridor's end. "Look!"

Subaru looked.

The capital was burning. Black flames consumed entire districts, spreading faster than should be possible. People ran through the streets in panic, and above it all, he could see the shape of something massive circling, something looking like a dragon.

And in the main plaza, clearly visible even from this distance through the prison tower's high window, was a figure wrapped in white bandages. Her golden chains whipped through the air as she moved through a crowd of people who all moved in perfect synchronisation with her movements, experiencing her emotions as their own - Sirius. Free.

"How - " Subaru started.

But he already knew the answer. That girl with the platinum hair - she'd done this. Set it all in motion.

"We need to move," Subaru said, running for the stairs. "Now! We have to stop her before-"

Before what? Before she killed more people? Before she found whatever she was looking for? Before the capital burned completely?

Yes. All of that.

They burst out of the prison tower and into chaos. The capital had descended into a war zone in the minutes they'd been inside. Buildings burned with those terrible black flames. People screamed, some from pain, others from emotions that weren't their own. And everywhere Subaru looked, he could see the effects of Sirius's Authority—clusters of people moving in perfect unison, experiencing the same emotions simultaneously, killing each other or themselves as the Archbishop's shared suffering rippled through them.

A man was stabbing himself repeatedly, tears streaming down his face, apologising over and over. Nearby, a woman hugged her children so tightly she was suffocating them, sobbing about how much she loved them. A group of guards had turned on each other, their synchronised rage making them attack anything that moved.

Shaula's hand found his. "Master, where?"

"There!" Subaru pointed toward the plaza where Sirius's figure was most visible, standing atop what looked like the remains of a fountain.

They ran through burning streets, Polaris blazing a path before them. The fire spirit seemed to sense Subaru's determination, her flames burning hotter, brighter, clearing debris and frightening away anyone in their path.

Subaru could feel his Authority coiling inside him like a spring wound too tight. Twelve hands wasn't enough. He'd need more. Maybe fifteen. Maybe twenty. However many it took to pin Sirius down, to make her talk, to end this nightmare.

This time, he wouldn't hold back.

Sirius turned, her single visible eye fixing on him across the distance. Her chains fell still. The people around her stopped moving, all turning as one to face him.

And she screamed.

"YOU'RE NOT MY PETELGEUSE! YOU'RE NOT! YOU DISGUSTING LECHEROUS THIEF! GIVE HIM BACK! GIVE HIM BACK RIGHT NOW!"

Her chains lashed out, crossing the intervening space impossibly fast, and the real battle began.

Reinhard's replacement sword sang as it left its sheath, the steel gleaming in the red light of the dying sun. He hit the first wave of Witch Cultists like a hurricane made flesh, his blade finding throats and hearts with the precision that divine protections or not, was simply who he was.

Three Cultists fell in the first second. Seven more in the next. His sword arm moved in patterns drilled into muscle memory through endless training, and training didn't need blessings. The Astrea style, the techniques passed down through generations, the fundamental understanding of combat that existed beneath supernatural advantage - these remained.

But he was slower now. Mortal. The absolute certainty that had guided his blade was gone, replaced with hard-won skill that could still fail. He could miss. He could be hit. He could die.

A Cultist's blade got through his guard, almost opening a line of fire across his ribs. He gritted his teeth, killed the attacker with a quick thrust, and kept moving.

Julius fought beside him, purple hair whipping as he moved through the combat forms he'd learned before he'd ever contracted spirits. His sword was a blur, each strike precise, economical, beautiful in its efficiency. He'd always been a master swordsman - the spirits had simply enhanced that base talent to supernatural levels.

"On your left!" Julius called, and Reinhard adjusted without thinking, his sword intercepting a spear thrust meant for Julius's kidney.

"Behind you!" Reinhard returned the favor seconds later, and Julius spun, his blade taking off the head of a Cultist who'd been going for a backstab.

Even if Reinhard did not remember, he knew they'd fought together dozens of times before, their coordination honed through battle and trust. That hadn't changed. What had changed was the scope of what they could handle.

Before, Reinhard alone could have dealt with a thousand Cultists without breaking stride, his divine protections ensuring he couldn't be hit and every strike was perfectly placed. Now, while not lacking the power and skill, he needed to be more cautious, more aware of his own body and damage it could sustain. Regulus had destroyed his leg once, if he was fighting him now, Reinhard knew who would win that battle.

A massive surge of killing intent from behind made Reinhard drop and roll without thinking. A blade whistled through the space his head had occupied, close enough that he felt the air displacement. He came up to see a figure standing where none had been a moment before.

Short, maybe four feet eleven. Dark brown hair with red tips tied into a braid. Emerald green eyes with yellow centers that gleamed with predatory hunger. The boy - because despite his apparent age, something about him screamed ancient - wore torn green clothes, and when he grinned, all his teeth were pointed like fangs.

"Well, tsu," the boy said, his voice carrying that familiar collective cadence that marked him as Gluttony. "We were wondering when we'd get to play with you two. The Sword Saint and the Finest of Knights, both stripped of their toys. This should be delicious."

"Roy Alphard," Julius breathed, his sword coming up in a guard position. His face had gone pale with fury, sweat beading on his forehead despite the cold.

"The very same!" Roy grinned, showing all those pointed teeth.

He moved.

Reinhard got his sword up in time to block, and the impact sent shockwaves up his arms. Roy's physical strength was impossible for someone his size, each strike hitting like a sledgehammer wrapped in razors. Still Reinhard himself was monstrous, the force of the blow barely making him move one step back.

Julius attacked from the side, his blade going for Roy's exposed back, but the Archbishop simply teleported, appearing couple meters to the left and lashing out with a kick that caught Julius in the ribs hard enough to crack bone.

"Too slow!" Roy laughed, his voice carrying genuine delight. "Remember us, Julius? Remember how we made everyone forget about you? That was fun! Watching you realize nobody knew your name, seeing the confusion and hurt, tsu" He sighed happily. "Such good memories!"

Julius's face went white with rage and pain. He charged, his sword moving in patterns designed to overwhelm, to give no opening. But Roy had eaten too many skilled fighters, absorbed too many techniques. He wove between Julius's strikes like water, occasionally lashing out with stolen abilities that made Reinhard's instincts scream.

A palm strike that could shatter steel - Ultimate Palm - caught Julius's blade and deflected it with pure force.

A grappling technique strong enough to stop an avalanche let Roy catch Julius's follow-up strike with his bare hand.

The predatory aura of Carnivorous Beast made every nerve in both knights' bodies scream danger.

And through it all, Roy kept talking.

"Tell us something, Reinhard-tsu," Roy said, and Reinhard hated how the Archbishop mangled his name with that speech pattern. "What's it feel like to be human? We've eaten so many people, experienced so many different lives, but we've never quite figured out what makes you all tick. The pride, the guilt, the self-hatred - it's all so delicious!"

Reinhard didn't respond. Every ounce of concentration was focused on reading Roy's movements, on finding an opening that wasn't a trap.

"The old you would have ended this fight by now," Roy continued, almost conversational as he dodged another strike from Reinhard. "One swing. Maybe two. We wouldn't have stood a chance. But now? Now you're just... ordinary. Must be quite the adjustment, being the same as everyone else. Being replaceable. Being forgettable."

"Shut up," Reinhard said through gritted teeth.

"Ooh, we struck a nerve-tsu!" Roy's grin widened. "Are we wondering if Grandfather's right now? Are we questioning whether that monster he keeps talking about is the real you, and this pathetic human is just the mask? Because from where we're standing, it looks like you're barely holding together, tsu. All that pressure, all those expectations, and now you can't even rely on your blessings to carry you through. It's almost...as if you are a new you, tsu."

Reinhard's concentration broke at one moment, fear and horror engulfing him as Roy's face and the burning Lugunica twisted into the watchtower and red-haired Reid mockingly looking down at him with those cursed words leaving his mouth. 

And in that second Roy was there. Julius could not catch up in time.

His daggers came up in a vicious arc that Reinhard dodged in panic, but not fast enough, not without the divine protections that had made him impossible to hit.

The blow intended to cut his neck instead took Reinhard's left eye.

Pain exploded through his skull like nothing he'd ever experienced. Agony beyond description, beyond reason, beyond anything his training had prepared him for. The claws ripped through flesh and socket, tearing, destroying, leaving ruin behind. Blood poured down his face in hot cascades, and Reinhard screamed.

He stumbled backward, his free hand coming up to his ruined eye, his sword wavering. Through the agony and the blood and the terror of realizing he'd just lost a part of himself permanently, he could see Roy grinning, those fanged teeth painted red with Reinhard's blood.

"There we go," Roy said with satisfaction. "That's the sound we wanted to hear. The Sword Saint, screaming. Beautiful-tsu."

Julius charged back into the fight, his face a mask of fury despite his injuries. His sword was a storm of steel, each strike meant to kill, but Roy dodged them all with contemptuous ease.

"Are you angry, Julius-tsu?" Roy taunted, his voice sing-song. "Good! That's what we want! Get angrier! Make us work for it! Show us you're not just a has-been riding on spirit contracts!"

Despite the pain, despite the blood flowing from his ruined eye, Reinhard forced himself back into the fight. They couldn't let Roy keep talking, keep attacking their psyches while destroying their bodies. They had to end this.

Together, Julius and Reinhard pressed the assault. They'd fought side by side enough to know each other's rhythms, to compensate for each other's weaknesses. Julius feinted high, drawing Roy's defense upward, and Reinhard swept low, his blade opening a deep gash across the Archbishop's leg.

Roy staggered, his grin finally faltering. "Not bad-tsu. Not bad at all. We actually felt that one."

They pressed harder, not giving him space to recover. Julius's blade scored a hit across Roy's ribs, cutting deep enough to show bone. Reinhard's follow-up attack took off two of the Archbishop's fingers when Roy tried to block. Blood sprayed, and for the first time, Roy looked concerned.

"Alright-tsu, you've earned it," he said, his voice losing its mocking edge. "Time for us to get serious."

His body began to ripple, preparing for Solar Eclipse. Flesh started to flow, bones restructuring, as Roy prepared to transform into one of his stolen identities.

But before the transformation could complete reality bent.

A figure appeared between the combatants, and the sheer presence of her made both Reinhard and Julius stumble backward. Their swords suddenly felt like toys in their hands, useless against whatever this was.

Small and delicate, with platinum hair that seemed to glow with inner light. Her presence was so overwhelming that both knights found themselves frozen, unable to move, unable to even think about attacking.

Pandora - though neither of them knew that name.

"That's quite enough," the girl said softly. Her voice was gentle, but it carried absolute authority. Both knights found themselves unable to move, their muscles locked, their minds screaming but their bodies refusing to respond.

Roy's eyes widened.

"You've played enough for today," the girl intoned softly. She reached out and touched Roy's forehead almost tenderly. "Rest now. You've done well. Roy Alphard was never injured in this fight."

Roy's wounds began to heal, flesh knitting together at impossible speed. His missing fingers regrew. The gash across his ribs closed. Within seconds, he looked completely unharmed, though his expression had gone oddly blank.

The girl turned to look at Reinhard and Julius, and her smile was radiant. Beautiful and terrible in equal measure.

"You should be proud," she said. "You hurt him quite badly. Not many can claim that, especially without your blessings. You're adapting remarkably well to mortality. It's admirable, really."

And then she and Roy were simply gone, as if they'd never been there. The world snapped back into focus, and suddenly Reinhard and Julius could move again.

The paralysis broke. Reinhard collapsed to one knee, his hand still pressed against his ruined eye socket. Blood was still pouring down his face, pooling on the ground beneath him. His vision was a fractured mess, depth perception completely destroyed, balance thrown off.

Julius stumbled over to him, his own injuries making every movement agony. "Reinhard - we need to get you medical attention. Now."

"I'm fine," Reinhard lied. Everything hurt. His eye was gone. He could feel the empty socket, the destroyed tissue, and the knowledge that it would never grow back was terrifying in a way he'd never experienced before.

"You're not fine!" Julius grabbed Reinhard's shoulder, forcing the taller man to look at him with his remaining eye. "You're mortal now, Reinhard. You can die now. So stop acting like you're still invincible and let me get you to Felix!"

Reinhard wanted to argue. Wanted to push Julius away and charge back into battle because that's what the Sword Saint would do, what the Sword Saint had always done. But he wasn't the Sword Saint anymore. That title felt like a joke now, a remnant of a person who'd ceased to exist.

He was just Reinhard. Mortal, wounded and useless.

"Alright," he said quietly, hating how weak his voice sounded. "Alright."

Julius helped him stand, supporting his weight as they limped away from the battlefield. Behind them, the capital continued to burn, and somewhere in that chaos, the real horror was just beginning.

Subaru's whip cracked through the air, its length extended by Polaris's flames into a fifty-meter rope of fire. The burning cord wrapped around Sirius's chains, and for a moment, they were locked in a contest of strength - Archbishop versus contractor.

Sirius won. Her chains yanked hard, and Subaru was pulled off his feet. He hit the ground hard enough to drive the air from his lungs, rolled, and came up to see Shaula already firing.

"Hell's Snipe!"

A dozen glowing red needles materialized and shot toward Sirius with impossible speed and precision. The Archbishop's single visible eye widened, and she threw up her chains in defense.

Most of the needles were deflected. Three got through.

Blood sprayed as the needles punched through Sirius's bandaged form—shoulder, thigh, and one that came terrifyingly close to her head before she twisted away at the last second.

But the people around her screamed.

A dozen civilians collapsed simultaneously, blood erupting from identical wounds on their bodies even though Shaula's needles had hit only Sirius. A man clutched his shoulder, sobbing. A woman fell to her knees, her thigh spouting blood. The Authority of Wrath at work, sharing damage across everyone caught in its influence.

Subaru reached for his Authority and six hands materialized around him, invisible, but he could feel them, extensions of his will made manifest through stolen power.

The hands shot forward, wrapping around Sirius's chains. This time, when she tried to yank them away, the hands held firm.

Subaru pulled.

The chains went taut, and Sirius stumbled forward, her feet slipping on the blood-slick stones. Subaru's whip was already moving, cracking toward her exposed side. This time, she couldn't dodge.

The flaming cord wrapped around her torso, and Polaris poured power into it. Heat intense enough to melt steel scorched the bandages, and Sirius screamed.

Everyone in her sphere of influence screamed with her, experiencing the same burning agony. The sound was horrible - dozens of voices crying out in perfect synchronization, a chorus of suffering that echoed across the plaza.

Subaru's face was unreadable as he poured more power into his Authority. Two more hands manifested, grabbing Sirius's arms and pulling them wide, preventing her from using her chains to defend herself.

"Talk," Subaru said, his voice flat and cold. "Tell me where the rest of the Cult is. What they're planning. Everything."

"Never!" Sirius shrieked, her eye blazing with fanatic devotion. "We'll never betray him! Our beloved! Our precious Petelgeuse! We'd die a thousand times before - "

Subaru's eighth hand materialized and grabbed her throat, squeezing.

Sirius choked, her eye bulging, and around the plaza, people grabbed their own throats, experiencing strangulation through her Authority's connection. Some collapsed, turning blue, dying from suffocation that was happening to them.

"Master," Shaula said quietly, her usual cheer completely gone. "The people... Master, they're dying."

Subaru didn't acknowledge her. His attention was fixed entirely on Sirius, on making her talk, on getting the information he needed to end this. The people in the plaza didn't matter right now. Only stopping the Cult mattered. Only finding out how to save the world mattered. Only getting The Witch Factor of Wrath mattered. Only saving Satella mattered. Only going home, home, home, home, HOME mattered.

His ninth hand appeared, then his tenth. They grabbed Sirius's chains and began pulling in opposite directions, testing their tensile strength. The golden metal groaned under the stress, beginning to warp and bend.

"Last chance," Subaru said, his voice carrying a chill that had nothing to do with ice magic. "Talk, or I start breaking things. Starting with these chains you seem so fond of."

Sirius's eye blazed with fury and fear. "You wouldn't dare! You'd kill everyone connected to my Authority! Dozens of innocents!"

"Then I suggest," Subaru said quietly, pulling the chains tighter, "you release them from your Authority before I start."

For a long moment, silence hung in the plaza except for the sounds of people choking, struggling to breathe. Then Sirius laughed, high and manic and broken.

"You're just like him! Just like Petelgeuse! That same willingness to sacrifice anything for your goals! That same ruthless determination! But you're not him! You don't smell like him! You're not MY BELOVED!"

The chains shattered.

Subaru's Authority of Greed had found the weak point in the golden metal and simply torn them apart as the space itself compressed around them. The fragments fell to the ground with musical chiming sounds, and Sirius's shriek of rage was almost inhuman.

"NO! Those were gifts! Precious gifts from my beloved! How DARE you! HOW DARE YOU DESTROY THEM!"

Shaula's Hell's Snipe took off her left arm at the shoulder.

The needle punched through with such force that it continued through, embedding itself in the wall behind. Blood sprayed in an arterial gush, painting the plaza stones red. Sirius stumbled, her scream cutting off mid-note as shock set in.

Around the plaza, dozens of people grabbed at their left shoulders, some collapsing as their bodies tried to process the limb loss. An old man fell, clutching his shoulder, confusion and terror on his face.

Subaru barely noticed. His hands grabbed Sirius again, wrapping around her remaining limbs, pinning her in place. He activated the spatial manipulation he'd discovered in the tower.

Space around Sirius began to expand.

It started subtle, the air around her distorting slightly. Then more pronounced. Her remaining arm, trying to reach for Subaru, found the distance growing faster than she could close it. Five meters became ten. Ten became twenty. She was moving forward but getting nowhere, trapped in an ever-expanding bubble of space.

"What is this?!" Sirius screamed. "What are you doing?! This isn't - this can't - "

Subaru didn't answer. He was concentrating too hard on maintaining the spatial distortion while simultaneously holding her with Invisible Providence. The mental strain was enormous, like trying to solve complex equations while being beaten with hammers. But he held on.

Polaris shot forward, understanding what her contractor wanted. Her flames wrapped around Sirius's bandaged form, and the Archbishop shrieked as the fire caught. Her remaining arm flailed uselessly as she tried to put out flames that wouldn't be extinguished.

The people connected to her Authority screamed in shared agony, their bodies burning with Sirius. A woman tore at her clothes, trying to put out fire. A man rolled on the ground, beating at flames only way he could.

"Make it stop!" Someone in the crowd shouted. "Please, make it stop!"

"Release your Authority," Subaru said to Sirius, his voice carrying no mercy. "Let them go and I'll make the fire stop."

"Never!" Sirius shrieked through the flames. "They're mine! My children! My family! We share everything! That's what love means! To become one!"

Subaru's jaw clenched, but he didn't release the spell. He couldn't. Not until Sirius talked. Not until he got what he needed. He had made the choice - to walk for himself, to reach for his own selfish goals at the cost of the world once. He would not go back now.

The Archbishop's body collapsed, her legs giving out, her remaining arm blackened and useless. The bandages had burned away from most of her face now, revealing features that - 

Subaru's eyes widened.

The face beneath the bandages was changing. The wrathful expression was softening, the manic gleam fading from her eye. And as the flames died down enough for him to see clearly, he realised the face looking back at him wasn't the fanatic Archbishop he'd been fighting.

Silver hair where it wasn't burned away. Delicate features that looked almost.. Elven. Eyes that were now both visible, amethyst purple instead of the single eye he'd been seeing.

"Emilia..." Sirius was looking behind him now. The word came out as barely a whisper from Sirius's ruined throat, but Subaru heard it clearly in the sudden silence. "I'm sorry... I couldn't... protect you..."

Subaru's concentration shattered.

The spatial distortion collapsed. His Invisible Providence hands vanished. He stood there, frozen, staring at the burned and broken form before him.

This wasn't Sirius.

Reality bent again - that same sensation from before, like the world folding in on itself. The small figure with platinum hair appeared, materializing between Subaru and the fallen Archbishop. Her expression was unreadable this time, but something like regret flickered across her perfect features.

"You're too efficient," she said softly, looking at Subaru with those deep blue eyes. "This wasn't how this scene was supposed to play out. I tried to adjust, tried to give her more time, but you're too determined and too ruthless. You've changed, Natsuki Subaru, and not in ways I'd anticipated."

She reached toward the fallen Archbishop, and Subaru moved on instinct.

His whip lashed out, its flaming length extending impossibly far. The cord wrapped around the Archbishop's throat and pulled, and in one brutal motion, the head separated from the body in a spray of blood and ash.

"NO!"

The scream came from behind him. Subaru turned, his whip still extended, and saw her...Emilia.

She stood at the plaza's entrance, her clothes burned and torn, blood and ash mixing on her skin. Her violet eyes were wide with horror, fixed on the decapitated body before them. Tears were already streaming down her face.

"Mother Fortuna," Emilia whispered, her voice breaking. "No... why... WHY?!"

Subaru's world tilted. The head that had rolled to a stop near his feet... he looked at it properly for the first time, really looked at the features now that the bandages were mostly burned away.

Not Sirius Romanée-Conti.

Fortuna. Emilia's adoptive mother. Somehow alive, somehow wearing Sirius's identity, and now dead by Subaru's hand.

He'd just killed her.

"Emilia-" Subaru started, but she wasn't listening.

Her hands came up, ice already forming around them, her mana surging so violently that frost spread across the entire plaza in seconds. The temperature plummeted. Her face was twisted with grief and rage in equal measure, tears streaming down her cheeks and freezing on her skin.

"I hate you," she said, her voice breaking looking at both Pandora and Subaru, eyes manic in hate. Standing in the centre of the capital's Plaza the dying sun mockingly illuminated Emilia's frame - "I hate you. I hate you so much. Since the day I met you, I've hated you so much I can't bear it."

The ice spread faster, sharper. Buildings began to crack from the sudden temperature change. The frozen civilians from earlier became covered in another layer of frost.

"Capella, Regulus, Pandora, the Witch Cult - you've only made my life hell! You took Geuse from me! You took Mother Fortuna from me! My family! Everyone!"

She was sobbing now, her composure completely shattered. The half-elf princess who always tried to be kind, who always tried to see the best in people, was gone. What remained was raw grief and rage.

"I HATE YOU!"

The ice magic surged forward, a wave of absolute zero that would freeze everything in its path, that would kill Subaru where he stood.

Darkness exploded across the plaza.

Shadows erupted from every corner, from every crack in the stone, from the very air itself. They poured into the space like a tsunami made of night, and within seconds, the entire plaza was drowning in darkness so absolute that even the red sun couldn't penetrate it.

The crystal around Subaru's neck blazed with light, warm and familiar.

Satella materialized from the shadows themselves, her silver hair moving in an unfelt wind, her black dress with orange ornaments seeming to be woven from the darkness around her. Her presence was overwhelming, so massive that reality itself had to bend to accommodate her existence.

And her face.. it wasn't the gentle and soft embrace of Satella's warm amethyst eyes full of love and adoration. She looked delighted, manic, mad.

Subaru couldn't speak. Could barely breathe.

Behind Satella, he could see Emilia standing frozen, her ice magic halted mid-spell. Her face was a mask of shock as she stared at the Witch.

And behind Emilia, Roswaal had just arrived, his expression going from concerned to utterly terrified as he took in the scene. The court magician's face went white as paper as he recognised what stood before them.

"Y-you" he breathed, the name barely audible.

Satella turned away from Subaru back to the plaza, to everyone present, and spoke a single word that reverberated throughout the whole capital with absolute authority.

"Enough."

The command hit like a physical force. Everyone, but Subaru who could still stand dropped to their knees, their bodies responding to a power that transcended mortal authority. Even Shaula fell, her usual cheerful expression replaced by something close to worry.

The shadows intensified, madness seeping through them like poison. Subaru could hear people screaming as they clawed at their own faces, as sanity fractured under the weight of the Witch's presence. The miasma was spreading, the corruption inherent in Satella's existence affecting everyone except him.

In that moment Subaru realised that this wasn't Satella who stood in front of him anymore. This was Witch of Envy.

Chapter Text

The shadows poured from Satella like blood from a mortal wound, thick and viscous, spreading across the plaza in waves. Each wave carried miasma so concentrated that the very air turned black. The red light of the dying sun couldn't penetrate the darkness. The flames from burning buildings guttered and died, suffocated by the Witch's presence.

Subaru stood frozen, his hand still outstretched from where he'd killed Fortuna - from where he'd murdered Emilia's mother without knowing, without understanding. The blood on his whip hadn't even dried yet. The head still lay at his feet, silver hair spread across the blood-slick stones like a broken halo.

Satella stood before him, except it wasn't Satella anymore. The gentle woman who'd held him in the Shadow Garden had been consumed by the Witch of Envy. Her smile stretched too wide across her face, showing too many teeth, cracked at the edges like porcelain about to shatter. This was the smile of something that had forgotten how to be human, that had been locked away for so long it no longer remembered what joy or love or mercy looked like.

Her violet eyes found his, and for a brief moment, Subaru saw Satella in there, the woman who'd apologized for crimes that weren't hers, who'd looked at him with such desperate love it made his heart ache. But that Satella was drowning, being pulled under by the personality of the Witch of Envy.

"I love you," the Witch said, and her voice was Satella's but layered with inhumanity and wrongness that made Subaru's bones vibrate and his teeth ache. "I love you I love you I love you I love you—"

The words kept repeating, faster and faster, overlapping with themselves until they became a mantra, a prayer, a curse. Each repetition sent fresh waves of miasma rolling across the plaza, and Subaru watched in horror as people began to go completely mad.

A city guard clawed at his eyes, his fingernails digging into the sockets with desperate strength. Blood ran down his face in thick rivulets as he sobbed, begging for it to stop, begging for the voices in his head to be silent. He dug deeper, and there was a wet pop as something gave way. He kept digging.

A merchant woman tore at her own throat with her fingernails, raking deep furrows in her flesh. Her mouth opened and closed silently, trying to scream but producing only wet gurgling sounds. Blood bubbled between her lips and ran down her chin. Her eyes had rolled back in her head, showing only whites.

All around the plaza, people were dying. The miasma saturated every breath they took, driving them to madness. Some screamed. Some laughed. Some did both at once, their voices cracking and breaking as sanity fled.

Roswaal had collapsed to his knees, his makeup running down his face in black and white streaks mixed with blood from where he'd bitten through his own tongue. His body convulsed, muscles spasming uncontrollably. The court magician who'd survived four hundred years, who'd orchestrated so much, reduced to a twitching mess on the ground. He felt just as weak and powerless as the day he vomited in front of Echidna, the day he barely survived against Hector.

Shaula stood beside Subaru, her body coiled like a spring ready to release. Her usual cheer had vanished completely, replaced by the cold efficiency of a predator. Her multi-pupiled eyes tracked the Witch's every movement, her hands already glowing with the preliminary light of Hell's Snipe. As a mabeast, the miasma couldn't affect her, but she'd seen enough to know what stood before them. The muscles in her legs were tensed, ready to move, ready to strike if the Witch made a move toward Subaru.

Only Subaru remained standing without defensive posture, protected by his connection to the Witch through their contract. The crystal at his neck blazed with light, creating a small bubble of sanctuary around him. But he couldn't look away from what was happening, couldn't close his eyes to the suffering.

In the distance, the small figure with platinum hair had gone pale as death itself. Pandora stood at the edge of the plaza, and for the first time in her existence, genuine fear showed on her perfect features. The Witch of Envy had manifested fully, and even Pandora's reality-warping Authority trembled before that presence.

Pandora disappeared.

She simply vanished, fleeing without notice.

And then the Witch turned.

Her gaze moved away from Subaru, those violet eyes finding a new target. The smile on her face changed, warping from manic affection into absolute, unrestrained hatred.

"I hate you," the Witch said, and this time her voice carried venom instead of love.

She was looking at Emilia.

The half-elf stood twenty meters away, frozen in place. Her violet eyes were wide with horror, tears streaming down her face as she stared at Fortuna's decapitated body. Ice had formed around her feet, spreading outward in jagged patterns. She stared at the ruins of her mother's corpse with an expression of absolute devastation, unable to move, unable to breathe.

The Witch began to walk toward her, shadows flowing in her wake. Each step left behind a footprint of pure darkness that ate into the stone, corroding it, turning solid rock into something that looked like ash.

"I hate you I hate you I hate you I HATE YOU—"

The words came faster, louder, each repetition more vicious than the last. The miasma intensified, and Subaru could see space beginning to bend around the Witch, warping under the weight of her presence.

Emilia finally moved, stumbling backward. Her eyes had gone wider, recognition and terror warring on her face. She was looking at the Witch, at that face that was identical to her own, and understanding was dawning. The resemblance she'd always known about, always feared, suddenly made terrifyingly real. They looked like twins. Perfect, identical twins. And one of those twins was the monster that had nearly destroyed the world.

"You," Emilia whispered, her voice breaking. "You're... we look..."

"I HATE YOU!" the Witch screamed, and the sound shattered every remaining window in the plaza. "I HATE YOU! I HATE YOU!"

Shadows erupted from the ground around Emilia, reaching for her like grasping hands. The half-elf tried to dodge, tried to throw up an ice barrier, but she was too slow, too shocked, too paralysed by the revelation of what she was looking at.

The Witch raised her hand, and darkness coalesced around it, taking shape, forming into something that looked like a blade made of pure void. She brought it down toward Emilia's neck.

"NO!" Subaru's scream tore from his throat, raw and desperate. "SATELLA, NO!"

The blade stopped.

The Witch froze mid-strike, her hand trembling, the void blade mere inches from Emilia's throat. Her face twisted, warring emotions flickering across it too fast to follow. Love and hate. Sanity and madness. Satella and the Witch, fighting for control.

"I... love... you..." the Witch said, but her voice was cracking now, breaking apart. "I love you I hate her I love you I want to kill her I love you I LOVE YOU—"

The blade moved closer. Emilia whimpered, trying to back away, but the shadows had wrapped around her legs, holding her in place. The void blade touched her throat, and Subaru saw frost forming where it made contact, her skin turning white, blood vessels bursting beneath the surface.

"SATELLA, PLEASE!" Subaru was already moving, running toward them even though he knew he'd never make it in time. "DON'T DO THIS! PLEASE!"

The Witch's head turned toward him, and the expression on her face made Subaru's heart break. She was crying, black and red tears running down her cheeks and eating into her skin like acid. Her mouth was still stretched in that terrible smile, but her eyes were screaming, begging him to understand, to help, to save her from herself.

"She's hurting you. I LOVE YOU. She doesn't love you. I LOVE YOU! I HATE HER!"

The void blade pressed harder against Emilia's throat. Blood began to well up, black instead of red, corrupted by the touch of the Witch's power. Emilia's eyes rolled back in her head.

Subaru reached them. His hand closed around the Witch's wrist, and he could feel the power flowing through her, could feel the madness trying to consume everything it touched. But he didn't let go. Couldn't let go.

Out of desperation Subaru mentally pulled at his contract as much as he could. Both Satella and him collapsed on the ground from mental shock and power it took to contain the presence of the Witch of Envy. But it worked - just as suddenly the Witch of Envy manifested, her presence quickly vanished and even in the rotting and freezing world, warmth and life came back to the world.

Emilia collapsed on the ground and Subaru did not even have time to properly process what happened as Shaula grabbed his arm and they fled the capital together.

The world blurred past in shades of red and black as Beast thundered through the dying landscape. Subaru clung to the ground dragon's scales with numb fingers, Shaula pressed against his back, her arms wrapped tight around his waist. Behind them, the capital burned with those terrible black flames, smoke rising in thick columns that merged with the bruised purple-red sky.

Subaru's mind kept replaying the moment. Not the kill itself. The moment after. When Emilia had screamed "Mother Fortuna." When understanding had crashed down on him like a physical weight.

Sirius had been Fortuna. Emilia's adoptive mother, twisted and corrupted by Pandora into the fanatical Archbishop of Wrath. And he'd executed her without checking, without verifying, without even a moment's hesitation.

"Master," Shaula said quietly against his shoulder. "We need to stop soon. Beast is getting tired."

Subaru didn't respond immediately. His throat felt dry.

They'd been riding for hours. The landscape had shifted from cobblestone streets to trampled farmland to sparse forest that looked half-dead even before the sun had died. Frost covered everything despite it being summer, or what should have been summer.

"Master," Shaula tried again. "Please say something."

"I should have checked," Subaru finally managed, his voice hoarse. "Should have verified who was under those bandages."

"The woman with the chains attacked first," Shaula said simply. "Shaula saw her. What was Master supposed to do?"

"Not kill her immediately. Take her prisoner. Question her. Anything else."

Shaula was quiet for a moment. "Shaula doesn't understand. Master killed an enemy who was attacking. That's what happens in fights."

"She was someone Emilia..." Subaru's hands tightened on Beast's scales. "... I killed her without even trying to understand what happened."

"Oh." Shaula's voice was small. "Master is upset because Master acted too brashly."

"I've been doing that a lot lately Shaula".

They rode in silence for another hour before finding something that might pass for shelter. A collapsed barn, its roof half-caved in, its walls barely standing. The structure looked like it had been abandoned weeks ago.

Shaula dismounted first, checking the interior quickly. "No people, only some hay."

Subaru slid off Beast's back, his legs nearly buckling when his feet hit the ground. The ground dragon immediately moved to a corner and collapsed, exhausted. Polaris emerged from Subaru's jacket, her flames subdued, barely bright enough to see by.

Inside the barn, Subaru sat heavily on a bale of hay. His hands had stopped shaking at least.

Shaula crouched in front of him, pulling out some dried meat and a waterskin from their packs. "Here. Master needs to eat."

Subaru took the food without argument, chewing mechanically. The meat was tough and tasteless. The water helped with the dryness in his throat.

"Any better?" Shaula asked after he'd eaten.

"Not really."

Shaula settled beside him on the hay. "So what does Master want to do now?"

Subaru opened his mouth to answer, then closed it. What did he want to do? The question felt too big. Everything had gone wrong in the capital. The Witch had manifested. Emilia had seen him kill Fortuna. He'd lost any chance of working with them.

"I don't know," he admitted quietly.

Shaula blinked, surprised. In all their time together since leaving the tower, Master had always had a plan. Always known what the next step was. Hearing him admit uncertainty was new.

"That's okay," she said after a moment. "Master doesn't have to know everything right away. Master can just rest and think."

"Rest." Subaru laughed bitterly. "The world is ending and I'm supposed to rest."

"The world has been ending for weeks now. It can wait a few more hours while Master recovers." Shaula's tone was firm. "Master is exhausted. Master just went through something horrible. Master needs time."

Subaru wanted to argue, but she was right. His body ached. His mind felt foggy. Every time he tried to think, his thoughts circled back to silver hair spread across stones and Emilia's expression of horror.

"Fine," he said. "A few hours. Then we figure out what to do."

"Good! Shaula will keep watch. Master should try to sleep."

"I don't think I can."

"Try anyway. Even just resting with eyes closed will help."

Subaru lay back on the hay, staring up at the barn's broken roof. Through the gaps, he could see the red sun hanging in the sky. Polaris settled on his chest, her warmth a small comfort.

Sleep came eventually, fitful and filled with fragments. Chains wrapping around throats. Silver hair. Violet eyes filled with horror. The Witch's too-wide smile saying "I love you and I hate her" over and over until the words lost meaning.

He woke several times during the night, each time finding Shaula still at her post by the entrance, silhouetted against the red light outside. Each time she'd glance back at him, making sure he was alright, then return to her vigil.

The third time he woke, it was to find her humming something quietly to herself. A melody he didn't recognize but somehow felt familiar. When she noticed he was awake, she stopped immediately.

"Sorry, Master. Shaula didn't mean to wake you."

"You didn't. Can't seem to stay asleep anyway." Subaru sat up, rubbing his face. "What were you humming?"

"Oh, just an old song. Master used to hum it sometimes when Master was working on projects at the watchtower. Shaula never learned the words, but the I remember the melody."

Subaru tried to remember, but like everything else from his supposed past as Flugel, it was just empty buzz in his head. "Was I any good at it?"

"Master was okay at it! Better than Satella onee-sama! And Master seemed to enjoy singing it."

They sat in comfortable silence for a while. The red light outside was starting to brighten slightly.

"Master," Shaula said quietly. "Shaula has been thinking."

"About what?"

"About what happened in the capital. With that bandaged woman." Shaula's voice was careful. "Shaula knows Master is upset about acting too quickly. But Shaula also saw how that woman was fighting. She wasn't trying to capture Master or talk. She was trying to kill Master. Her chains were aiming for Master's throat and heart."

"I know."

"And Shaula knows Master feels bad about the half-elf girl being upset. But that woman, even if she was the half-elf's mother before, she wasn't anymore. She was using her power to hurt people. Making them feel things that weren't real. Making them kill themselves." Shaula's expression was troubled. "Shaula doesn't understand everything about this world after being in the tower so long. But Shaula knows that killing someone who's actively trying to kill Master and hurt others isn't wrong... And if you did not stop her time.. I would have killed the bandaged woman anyway to protect you so don't blame yourself."

Subaru was quiet for a long moment. "You're probably right. Logically, I know you're right. Sirius was dangerous. She needed to be stopped", just like Petelgeuse - thought Subaru, "But I keep thinking about Emilia's face. The way she looked at me after."

"The half-elf girl doesn't know Master. Subaru could not help but flinch at those words. She just sees a stranger who killed someone important to her." Shaula shifted closer. "But that doesn't mean Master did the wrong thing. It was a bad situation with no good choices."

"Story of my life," Subaru muttered.

"Well, Shaula thinks Master makes the best choices possible with what Master knows at the time. And that's all anyone can do."

When morning came properly, Subaru felt marginally more functional. His body still ached, his mind still churned, but at least he could think somewhat clearly.

Shaula noticed him stirring and came over with their remaining supplies. "Master is awake. How does Master feel?"

"Like I got trampled by Beast and then set on fire."

"So normal after a big fight, then!" Shaula's attempt at cheerfulness was strained but genuine. "Shaula has some more dried meat if Master is hungry."

They ate in silence, the morning light casting everything in shades of crimson and shadow. The dried meat was getting low. They'd need to find more food soon.

After they'd finished, Shaula spoke again. "Has Master figured out what we're doing next?"

Subaru touched the crystal at his neck. Still cold. Satella hadn't responded to any of his attempts to reach through the contract since the Witch had manifested. The silence hurt more than he'd expected.

"We continue as we have planned, I need the Witch Factors," he said finally. "All of them."

"That's a lot of very dangerous people Master needs to kill."

"I know. But what else can I do? The world is dying. The divine protections are gone. Even if I wanted to help Emilia and the others fix things, they'd never work with me now. Not after what happened."

Shaula was quiet for a moment. "So Master's plan is to hunt down the remaining Archbishops, take their powers, and use them to go home?"

"That's the plan. It's not a great plan, quite a selfish one too... But, I am done playing the hero for others, I have decided that a while ago".

"Master misses home a lot."

"Yeah. More than anything." Subaru looked at his hands. "My parents are probably losing their minds wondering where I am. My mom is probably setting a place for me at dinner every night, hoping I'll walk through the door. My dad is probably trying to stay strong for her while falling apart inside. And I'm here, stuck in this dying world, with no way to tell them I'm still alive and okay."

Shaula was quiet, then reached over and squeezed his shoulder. "Then Shaula will help Master get home. Whatever it takes."

"Even if it means killing Archbishops? You still can go and live your own life Shaula, I won't force you to follow me."

"Stupid master, as if Shaula would go anywhere without him. You are not leaving me ever again. Also, Shaula is very good at killing things! Master has seen Shaula's Hell's Snipe! Shaula can shoot people from kilometres away!" She grinned. "Plus, if these Archbishop people are as bad as that bandaged woman, then killing them is probably doing the world a favour anyway."

Despite everything, Subaru felt something loosen in his chest. "Thanks, Shaula."

"Master doesn't need to thank Shaula. Shaula follows Master. That's what Shaula does." She stood, brushing hay off her hotpants. "So! If we're going after the dragon lady, we need to head to Jimuna Volcano?"

"Eventually. But we need to be smart about it." Subaru forced himself to plan. "We're low on supplies. We need information about the Cult's forces there. And I need to figure out how to actually deal with Capella's transformation ability and her regeneration. From what I saw in the capital, and Priestella she's really hard to kill."

"Those are all very good points." Shaula tapped her chin thoughtfully. "Maybe we should find a town first? Get supplies and information before heading into enemy territory?"

"A town where no one will recognize me," Subaru said dryly; "It's risky. But you're right that we need supplies. We're almost out of food, and Beast needs proper rest and feeding."

"Then that's the plan! Find a small town, trade for supplies and information, then head to Jimuna Volcano to kill the dragon lady and take her power!" Shaula said it so cheerfully, as if they were planning a shopping trip rather than an assassination mission.

"You make it sound so simple."

"Master is the one who makes impossible things happen! Shaula is just along to provide overwhelming firepower and moral support!"

Subaru stood, testing his legs. They felt steadier than yesterday at least. "Alright. Let's move. The sooner we start, the sooner we can finish this."

They gathered their supplies and mounted Beast, who seemed somewhat recovered from yesterday's extended voyage. The ground dragon made a grumbling sound but didn't protest when Subaru climbed onto his back. Polaris emerged from Subaru's jacket, her flames brighter than they'd been the previous night.

As they rode out of the barn and back onto the frozen road, Subaru found himself touching the crystal at his neck again. Still cold. Satella still silent.

He wanted to reach her, to explain what had happened, to make sure she understood that he didn't blame her for the Witch manifesting. But the connection remained closed, as if she'd deliberately shut him out.

Or maybe she was ashamed. Maybe she couldn't face him after what the Witch had done. After nearly killing Emilia. After showing him that side of herself.

The thought hurt more than Subaru expected. He'd formed the contract because he cared about Satella. Because she'd been kind to him when he needed it most. Because despite everything, despite the Witch and the madness and the four hundred years of imprisonment, she'd looked at him with genuine love.

And now she wouldn't even talk to him.

"Master is thinking sad thoughts again," Shaula observed from behind him.

"How can you tell?"

"Master's shoulders do this thing. They get all tense and hunched up. It's very obvious to anyone paying attention."

Subaru consciously straightened his posture. "Better?"

"A little. But Master should try to focus on the plan instead of dwelling on things Master can't control right now."

"When did you become so wise about this stuff?"

"Shaula has always been wise! Master just never noticed because Master was too busy being distracted by Shaula's incredible beauty and overwhelming charm!"

Despite himself, Subaru almost smiled. "Right. How could I forget your humility."

"Exactly! Shaula is also very humble! Shaula has so many good qualities! Master should shower Shaula in kisses for being so amazing!"

They rode in silence for a while after that, the landscape slowly shifting around them. More abandoned farms. More empty villages. Signs of people who'd fled or died in the weeks since the sun had changed. The world felt like it was holding its breath, waiting for the final collapse.

Around midday, they spotted smoke in the distance.

"People," Shaula said. "Should we see them?"

Subaru considered. It could be dangerous. Could be cultists or bandits taking advantage of the chaos. But it could also be exactly what they needed.

"Carefully," he decided. "We approach carefully and see what's there before committing to anything."

They guided Beast off the main road, circling around to approach the smoke's source from a different angle. It took another hour of careful navigation through the frozen forest before they could see what was producing the smoke.

A small settlement, maybe twenty buildings clustered together. Not a proper town, more like an extended family compound or a small farming community. The buildings looked weathered but maintained. Smoke rose from several chimneys, suggesting people were actually living there and had fuel to burn.

"What do you think?" Shaula whispered.

Subaru studied the settlement through the trees. He could see people moving between buildings. They looked thin, hungry, but alive and functional. No obvious signs of Witch Cult presence or military organization. Just people trying to survive.

"We try it," Subaru decided. "But we stay ready to run if things go wrong."

"Shaula is always ready to run! Or fight! Running and fighting are Shaula's two best skills!"

They guided Beast out of the trees and toward the settlement's edge. Almost immediately, someone spotted them. A woman, maybe forty, with gaunt features and suspicious eyes. She was holding a reaping hook, not quite pointing it at them like a weapon but clearly ready to if needed.

"Who are you?" she called out, her voice carrying across the frozen ground.

"Travellers," Subaru called back. "We're looking to trade for supplies."

"Don't have much to spare. Times are hard."

"We have fire crystals." Subaru pulled one from his pack, letting Polaris charge it slightly so it glowed with warm orange light. "Real ones. And we can charge more if you have them. We need food and maybe some information about the roads."

The woman's eyes locked onto the glowing crystal with naked hunger. In this cold, with the sun dying, warmth was more valuable than gold. "Fire crystals? Those are real?"

"Real as it gets."

She hesitated, suspicion warring with desperation on her face. Then she called over her shoulder. "Daniel! Get out here!"

A man emerged from one of the buildings, older than the woman, his face weathered by years of hard living. He took one look at the glowing crystal in Subaru's hand and his expression shifted from suspicion to calculation.

"How many you got?" he asked bluntly.

"Enough to make a trade worth your time," Subaru said carefully. "If you have what we need."

Daniel studied them for a long moment. His eyes lingered on Subaru's black hair, on the whip coiled at his side, on Shaula's unusual appearance and revealing clothes. On the fire spirit perched on Subaru's shoulder. But the promise of warmth clearly outweighed his suspicion.

"Come inside," he said finally. "We'll talk. But no funny business. We might be desperate, but we're not stupid."

"Fair enough," Subaru agreed.

Subaru and Shaula exchanged glances, then dismounted from Beast. Subaru led the ground dragon to a nearby post, tying him loosely so he could break free if needed. Beast immediately settled down, clearly grateful for the rest.

They followed Daniel and the woman, who introduced herself as Sandra, into the largest building in the compound. Inside, it was warmer than outside but not by much. A fire burned in a stone hearth, carefully tended to conserve fuel. Several other people were gathered inside, all looking thin and tired.

"They have fire crystals to trade.", Daniel announced

The reaction was immediate. Everyone's attention focused on Subaru with an intensity that made him uncomfortable. These people were desperate, and desperate people were unpredictable.

"How many crystals?" an older man asked, his voice rough.

"Depends on what you're offering," Subaru said. "We need food. Preserved stuff that'll travel. Information about the roads toward Kararagi. And maybe news about what's happening in the region."

"Food we got some of," Sandra said. "Not much, but some. Dried meat, some grain, a few root vegetables we managed to harvest before everything froze." She gestured to a corner where supplies were carefully stacked. "Information we can provide. Roads are dangerous. Bandits, Witch Cult activity, refugees turning desperate."

"The Witch Cult," Subaru said carefully. "Where are they active?"

"Everywhere and nowhere," Daniel said grimly. "They hit the Ivada and Fusumi a few days ago. Before that, they'd been spotted near the border regions. Some say they're gathering at Jimuna Volcano, but that's Gusteko territory and we don't get much news from there anymore."

"What about the Archbishops? Any sightings?"

The room went silent. Everyone was staring at Subaru now with a mixture of fear and confusion.

"Why would you want to know about Archbishops?" Sandra asked slowly.

Subaru realized he'd pushed too far too fast. "Just trying to avoid them. Want to know where not to go."

"Smart," Daniel said, though he still looked suspicious. "Sorry, but we can't tell you much. Most people who are cursed enough to meet an archbishop don't make it out alive to report them. Rarely do they leave any witnesses either".

"Alright," Subaru said. "We'll trade twenty charged fire crystals for whatever food you can spare and the information about the roads."

"Twenty crystals?", Sandra's eyes widened. "That's... that's generous."

"We need the supplies," Subaru said simply. "And you need the warmth. Fair trade."

They haggled for a bit more, working out the specifics. In the end, Subaru and Shaula walked away with a decent amount of dried meat, some grain, a few root vegetables, and detailed information about which roads were still passable and which had been taken over by bandits or worse.

As they were preparing to leave, a young girl, maybe ten years old, approached Subaru shyly.

"Mister?" she said quietly. "Is the world really ending?"

Subaru looked down at her. She was too thin, her clothes too big, her eyes too old for her age. She'd seen too much suffering already.

"I don't know," he admitted honestly. "Things are really bad right now. But people are still fighting. Still trying to survive.

"My mama says the Witch is going to kill us all. That the red sun means she's coming back."

Subaru felt something twist in his chest. "The Witch isn't going to kill you. I promise."

"How do you know?"

Because I have promised to save her and I will. "I just know. Trust me."

The girl studied him for a moment, then nodded. "Okay. I trust you, mister."

She ran back to her mother, and Subaru felt exhaustion creeping through him. Another promise he might not be able to keep. Another person who might die because he couldn't fix this broken world.

"Master is very good with children," Shaula observed as they mounted Beast. "Shaula noticed."

"I'm not good with anyone," Subaru muttered.

They rode out of the settlement as the afternoon light began to fade. Behind them, Subaru could hear the sounds of people gathering around the charged fire crystals, grateful for even a few hours of warmth.

"Master did a good thing back there," Shaula said.

Subaru didn't respond. He didn't feel kind. He felt tired and guilty and lost. But if three fire crystals could keep those people alive a little longer, it was worth it.

They made camp that night in another abandoned structure, this time an old mill by a frozen stream. The water wheel had stopped turning, ice locking it in place. Inside, they found evidence that someone had sheltered here recently, but whoever it was had moved on.

"How far to the border of Kararagi?" Subaru asked as they ate their newly acquired supplies.

"Daniel said about three days by ground dragon if we push reasonably hard," Shaula said. "Maybe four if we're being more careful. Then another two weeks to reach Jimuna Volcano if we are lucky."

A lot could happen in that time. The world could decay further. The Witch Cult could move. Capella could disappear.

But they had no choice. This was the only lead they had. Still, he needed to be more careful -

"No point rushing into Cult territory and getting caught immediately. We need to be smart about this."

"Smart is good! Shaula likes smart plans better than Master's usual approach of charging in and hoping things work out!"

"I don't usually charge in without a plan."

"Master absolutely does! Master charged Reid at least eighty times before figuring out how to actually fight him! It was very... very stressful to watch!"

Despite everything, Subaru felt his lips twitch. "Fair point."

They settled in for the night, Shaula taking first watch. Subaru lay on his bedroll, staring at the ceiling, touching the crystal at his neck periodically. Still cold. Still silent.

"Satella," he whispered into the darkness. "I know you can hear me through the contract. I know you're deliberately not responding. And I get it. What happened in the capital was terrifying... It was horrible. But I don't blame you for that. I never could. You're not the Witch. You're Satella. And I..." He paused, the words catching in his throat. "I miss talking to you. Please. When you're ready, please respond. I'm here."

No answer came. But Subaru thought, maybe, the crystal felt fractionally less cold.

Or maybe that was just wishful thinking.

In the capital, Emilia sat in her room at the Sage Council chambers, unable to sleep. Every time she closed her eyes, she saw it. That face. Her face. Twisted with madness, eyes too wide, smile too sharp, saying "I hate you" over and over.

The Witch of Envy wore her face.

Everyone knew it now. Not just suspected or theorised, but knew it as absolute fact. People had seen the Witch manifest. Had all seen that the resemblance wasn't just similar, it was identical.

And the fear in people's eyes when they looked at Emilia now was different. Not the usual suspicion and wariness she'd dealt with her whole life. This was genuine terror. Fear that she might become that monster. Fear that she already was that monster wearing a mask of kindness.

She'd overheard two guards talking earlier. One had said, "How do we know the half-elf isn't the Witch pretending to be human?" The other had responded, "We don't. We just have to hope she keeps pretending."

Emilia looked at her hands. At the ice that kept forming and melting around her fingers, responding to emotions she couldn't quite control.

What if they were right? What if there was some deeper connection? What if she wasn't just someone who happened to look like the Witch? Mother Fortuna had tried to shield her from something, from Pandora perhaps? Or perhaps it was the opposite way, was she shielding the world from her? She remembered freezing the Forest, the power and the loss of control".

The thoughts terrified her more than anything.

A knock on the door interrupted her spiral. "Will you come out from this room or not, I suppose?"

Emilia sighed, "Come in, Beatrice".

Beatrice entered, her small form looking even tinier in the large room. She climbed onto the chair across from Emilia, her expression troubled.

"We need to talk about what happened I suppose... And about that boy".

"Emilia's expression hardened. "The one who killed Mother."

"Yes. Betty has been talking with the sword saint and that forgotten knight, in fact. They have some theories, I suppose."

"What kind of theories?"

"They think he was at the Pleiades Watchtower, in fact. Think he's connected to what happened with the divine protections, I suppose. Reinhard said his dragon sword was reacting to someone before Reid destroyed it, in fact. When Volcanica was flying over, he noticed two people were flying on him. He thought that the sword was reacting to Volcanica at first, but...he thinks otherwise now. The sword only does that when it senses someone worthy of being drawn against. Someone who can summon Witch of Envy from her seal and control her..."

"So he's dangerous."

"Very dangerous, I suppose. But Betty also thinks he might have answers, in fact. About the tower. About the Witch. About everything that's happening."

Emilia was quiet for a moment. "Do you think he knew? That Fortuna was under those bandages? Or did he just see an Archbishop and kill her?"

"Betty doesn't know, in fact, but it cannot be denied that F-Sirius was dangerous Archbishop, corrupted like Geuse and many had suffered under her. Perhaps he thought she was beyond saving, in fact. Perhaps he thought the corruption was permanent and the person Fortuna had been was already gone, I suppose."

"Or perhaps he just didn't care." Emilia's voice was bitter. "Perhaps he saw an Archbishop and decided killing her was easier than trying to understand."

"That's possible too, I suppose. But Betty thinks you shouldn't assume the worst without evidence, in fact."

Emilia knew Beatrice was right. But the anger felt good, felt righteous. It was easier to be angry at the mysterious boy than to confront the complicated truth that Fortuna had become a monster who needed to be stopped - Just like Geuse - Two people who had turned monsters and caused havoc and pain for a century now.

"We're going to find him," Emilia said. "Reinhard and Julius are coordinating the search?"

"Yes. Now that we know his face, he is easier to track. Apparently he stopped at some small village and gave people fire crystals in exchange for food. They think he might be headed toward Jimuna Volcano, in fact, towards the rest of the Witch Cult".

"Then we intercept him there. Get answers about what he knew and why he did it."

"And if he doesn't have good answers, I suppose? The boy is already dangerous enough with his powers and if he's the same person that burnt down Mirula, which I am starting to think he is, then you will not be able to stop him, I suppose. Besides, we did not know about Sirius' true identity either so why would anyone else? "

Emilia's hands clenched, ice spreading across the armrests of her chair. She thought that her hatred for Pandora would no know no limits, but every day it seemed to grow. She would find that boy, try to understand what happened that day and she would make Pandora pay for her crimes too.

Reinhard sat in the strategy room, maps spread across the table before him. His remaining eye scanned the documents, trying to compensate for the loss of depth perception that made everything off centre and wrong.

Julius sat across from him, his own injuries mostly healed but still visible in how carefully he moved.

"His next target is predictable," Julius said, pointing to Jimuna Volcano on the map. "Capella is there. The boy seems to be hell bent on destroying the Witch Cult. In any other situation we would consider him an ally, he would even deserve a knighthood for defeating Sirius... but the other events.."

There was no reason to explain. The Witch's appearance and even worse, the control the boy held over her according to Emilia's and Roswaal's reports currently turned the boy into the most wanted person in the kingdom. The Sage Council was in uproar, whatever semblance of competency and control they had was fully shattered. Half of the Capital City and residents were dead, central control was gone, everyone was out for themselves. The defection rate of the knights were astronomical. Lugunica was at the precipice of a disaster.

"Agreed. But we need to consider he might go after Gluttony first if Roy is still in the capital region."

"Roy fled during the chaos. Multiple witnesses saw him disappear with that strange girl with the platinum hair."

Pandora. Neither of them said the name, but they both knew who Julius meant.

"Then Jimuna Volcano is our best bet," Reinhard concluded. "We position ourselves there, wait for him to make his move, then intercept."

"And if he's as dangerous as we think? If confronting him gets us killed?"

Reinhard's remaining eye was hard. Death, a permanent death was a truly new concept to him. "We must try anyway. The world's fate is under question here".

"Fair enough." Julius traced possible routes on the map. "It'll take us some time to reach Jimuna Volcano. We also need to keep you disguised. We will have to pass through Kararagi and they are already crying for war. If they learn about your involvement..."

"Agreed. We leave tomorrow. Small group, just us and whoever volunteers." Reinhard paused. "Lady Emilia wants to come."

"I expected that. She has her own reasons for wanting to find him."

"She's too emotionally invested. It could compromise the mission."

"True. But try telling her that and see how far it gets you."

Reinhard sighed. "Point taken. We bring her, but we make sure Beatrice-sama comes too. She can provide backup and maybe keep Emilia-sama from doing something rash."

They continued planning into the night, mapping routes and contingencies. In couple weeks, they'd either have answers, or they'd be dead.

Either way, the waiting would be over.

Far away, in a seal deep beneath the frozen earth, Satella sat in absolute darkness. Her silver hair hung around her face, hiding her expression.

She could still feel the contract with Subaru. Could still sense him through their connection. But she couldn't bring herself to respond.

She'd tried to kill Emilia. Had manifested with madness and hatred. Had screamed "I hate you" at a girl whose only crime was looking like herself.

But that wasn't the truth was it? After 400 years of being stuck with a mad persona, and seeing her Subaru fall in love with that lookalike only to get abandoned by her snapped something inside her. Even without the Envy's encouragement and madness Satella would have harmed Emilia.

And Subaru had seen it all. Had seen the Witch, seen the madness, seen what Satella became when she lost control.

But he'd also stopped it. Had pulled on their contract hard enough to force the Witch back into the seal. Had saved both Satella and Emilia despite the pain it must have caused him.

"I heard you," she whispered to the darkness, responding to his earlier words even though she still couldn't open the connection properly. "I heard what you said, Subaru. And I'm grateful. More grateful than you'll ever know. But I'm afraid. So afraid of what I might do if I manifest again. So afraid of hurting you or the people you care about."

The crystal around Subaru's neck pulsed faintly with her anguish, warming fractionally as her emotions bled through despite her attempts to keep the connection closed.

"I love you," she continued, tears falling in the darkness where no one could see. "I love you so much it terrifies me. The Witch loves you too, and her love is violent and possessive and horrible. I don't know how to separate myself from her. Don't know how to love you without that madness bleeding through."

She pressed her hand to her chest, where the contract mark burned. "So I'm staying here. Staying quiet. Keeping the Witch locked away where she can't hurt anyone.

But she knew Subaru wouldn't accept that. Knew he'd keep trying to reach her, keep pushing against her silence. He was stubborn like that. It was one of the things she loved most about him.

And one of the things that scared her most.

Because if he pushed too hard, if he forced the connection open, the Witch might manifest again. And next time, he might not be able to stop her.

Next time, she might just finish the job and the rest of the world would be doomed under her shadows.

So she sat in her darkness, feeling him through the connection but refusing to respond fully. Knowing he was trying to contact her but unable to risk opening that door.

It was better this way.

Even if it hurt more than anything.

Even if it felt like slowly dying inside.

As Subaru rode through the frozen wasteland toward Jimuna Volcano, he had no idea that multiple groups were now hunting him. Had no idea that Reinhard and Julius had deduced his general plans. Had no idea that Emilia was coming with vengeance and questions in equal measure. Had no idea that Otto was methodically tracking his movements, believing the Tome's directive that Natsuki Subaru must be eliminated was now fully tied to a raven haired boy who had summoned the Witch and destroyed the capital of Lugunica alongside the Witch Cult.

All he knew was that he needed to collect the remaining Witch Factors, find a way home, preferably with Satella and Shaula alongside him.

Subaru did not realise that the more he pushed onto this path, the more he strayed away from the Path of A Fool, the closer world approached its natural and final end.

Chapter Text

"Wherefore hast thou done this?"

Volcanica's voice rumbled through the white stone chamber of the Pleiades Watchtower, each word carrying the weight of centuries and the accusation of a world's death. The Divine Dragon's massive form coiled around the central pillar, scales that had once gleamed like polished sapphires now appearing dull in the perpetual twilight that filtered through the tower's ancient windows.

Reid Astrea rolled his single eye, leaning back against the wall with his arms crossed. His crimson kimono hung open on one side as always, exposing the scarred flesh beneath. "Ya gonna have to be more specific than that, lizard. I've done a lotta things."

"The sun." Volcanica's golden eyes fixed on Reid with an intensity that would have made lesser beings crumble to ash. "The divine protections. The very foundation upon which this world was built. Thou hast severed the connection between Od Laguna and all living things. Wherefore?"

"Ah. That." Reid scratched his bare chest idly, his expression shifting from casual dismissal to something harder.

"Explain thyself." The command carried no room for deflection.

Reid was quiet for a moment, his blue eye distant. When he spoke again, his tone was flat, matter-of-fact. "The brat's sword was powerful. Course it was. That idiot knew exactly what he was doin' when he forged it. Problem is, cuttin' the connection between a world and its source? That takes more power than even the Dragon Sword could sustain on its own."

Volcanica's pupils narrowed to slits. "Continue."

"Needed a catalyst. Somethin' to enhance the blade's power beyond its normal limits. Somethin' with enough raw energy to fuel a cut that could sever conceptual bonds across an entire world." Reid's hand moved to touch his eyepatch, a gesture that might have been unconscious. "What better source than the sun itself? All that energy, all that power, just sittin' there in the sky. So when I cut the connection, I used the sun as a battery."

The chamber fell silent except for the distant sound of wind howling through the tower's upper reaches. Volcanica's massive body tensed, muscles coiling beneath scales as rage built within the ancient dragon.

"Thou... THOU USED THE LIFE-GIVING SUN AS FUEL FOR DESTRUCTION?" The roar shook the very foundations of the tower, dust raining from the ceiling in fine cascades. "THOU HAST DOOMED THIS WORLD! HAST CONDEMNED MILLIONS TO FREEZE AND STARVE IN THE DARK! WAS THIS NECESSARY? WOULD FLUGEL HAVE AGREED TO SUCH DEVASTATION?"

Reid didn't flinch. He met Volcanica's rage with calm acceptance, his expression almost peaceful. "No. He wouldn't have agreed. That's exactly why I did it."

The rage in Volcanica's eyes flickered, confusion bleeding through the anger. "What dost thou mean?"

"The brat's too soft. Always has been." Reid's voice carried a bitter edge now, cutting. "He'd sit there and watch everything fall apart, watch everyone destroy the world, watch people he cared about suffer, and he wouldn't do what needed to be done. He'd wallow in misery, torture himself with guilt, find a thousand reasons why he couldn't act. But he'd never actually pull the trigger."

"Then why—"

"Because I ain't him." Reid pushed off from the wall, beginning to pace. His bare feet made no sound on the stone floor. "I don't give a damn about bein' liked or understood or forgiven. I care about my friend. And my friend was gonna lose. Was gonna fail. And ya know what would've caused it? That brat with my blood runnin' through his veins."

Understanding dawned in Volcanica's eyes. "Reinhard."

"Yeah. Reinhard van Astrea." Reid spat the name. "That kid had so much power he couldn't fail, couldn't grow. And Flugel? He'd never have the guts to take that power away. Would probably try to help the kid instead, make things worse."

Reid stopped pacing and turned to face Volcanica fully. His single eye blazed with conviction. "So I did it. I stripped away the divine protections, made that kid mortal, forced him to actually struggle for once in his life. And yeah, the world's dyin' because of it. Yeah, people are sufferin'. But better that than watchin' my friend fail because he was too kind to do what needed to be done."

"Thou art condemning the world for one person's growth." Volcanica's voice had lost its rage, replaced by something heavier. Sadness, perhaps. Resignation.

"Yep. And I'd do it again. A thousand times over." Reid's grin returned, sharp and unapologetic. "Call me a monster if ya want. Call me evil. I don't care. I never abandoned my friends when they needed me, even if they hated me for it afterward. That's what bein' a friend means. Doin' the hard thing when they can't."

Volcanica was silent for a long moment, his massive head lowering until it rested on the floor between his front claws. The gesture made him look smaller, more vulnerable than Reid had ever seen him.

"I am dying, old friend."

The words were soft, barely above a whisper, but they hit Reid like a physical blow. His posture stiffened.

"The clarity that Flugel granted me in our reunion is disappearing. The fog that has plagued my mind for centuries is returning. I can feel it creeping back, consuming my thoughts one by one." Volcanica's voice carried the weight of acceptance, of someone who had already made peace with their fate. "This time, when the confusion takes me fully, I do not believe I shall emerge from it. This death will be final."

Reid moved closer, his usual swagger absent. He knelt beside the dragon's massive head, close enough to see his own reflection in those golden eyes. "How long?"

"Time grows difficult to measure." Volcanica's eye focused on Reid with effort, as if even maintaining that much awareness required immense concentration. "Thou wilt follow soon, I suspect."

"Yeah. My purpose as a construct is done. I existed to guard the Tower, to test Flugel, to push that brat, to force him to grow. And I did my job. There's nothin' left to linger for." Reid's hand reached out, resting against the dragon's scales. The gesture was gentle, at odds with his usual violence. "We had a good run though, didn't we?"

"Aye. We did." Something that might have been a smile crossed Volcanica's features. "Thou art still an insufferable bastard, Reid Astrea."

"And you're still a pompous lizard. I regret not eating you greatly, you." Reid's grin was sad this time, tinged with genuine affection.

They sat in silence, two ancient beings waiting for death, surrounded by the accumulated knowledge of four hundred years that would soon have no guardians. The tower felt emptier than it should, as if it too sensed what was coming.

Outside, the world continued its slow death. Frost crept across continents. People huddled around dying fires. Kingdoms collapsed. And in the sky, the red dwarf sun that had replaced their golden star hung like a wound against the purple-bruised heavens.

Then it began.

The change started subtly. A flicker in the sun's light, so brief that if anyone had been watching, they might have dismissed it as their imagination. Then another flicker, longer this time. The red glow intensified, burning brighter for a handful of seconds before dimming again.

Reid's eye snapped upward, tracking the phenomenon through the tower's windows. "It's startin'."

The sun pulsed. The red light swelled, expanding outward in a ring of crimson brilliance that painted the landscape below in shades of blood and rust. For one glorious moment, it looked almost like the old sun, bright and warm and life-giving.

Then it collapsed back in on itself, smaller than before, darker. The light it cast grew dim, barely enough to see by.

Another pulse. Brighter this time, the red intensifying to an orange that hurt to look at directly. The temperature in the chamber rose fractionally, the first genuine warmth Reid had felt since he'd used the Reid Dragon Sword weeks ago. Ice that had begun forming on the tower's exterior walls started to melt, water running in thin rivulets down the white stone.

Then darkness. Deeper than before. The sun contracted further, its light fading to barely more than a coal's ember glow. The warmth vanished instantly, replaced by cold that bit through even Reid's supernatural constitution.

Pulse. Flash. Darkness.

Pulse. Flash. Darkness.

The rhythm was irregular, chaotic. Sometimes the bright phases lasted seconds. Sometimes they were gone in an eyeblink. Sometimes the darkness between stretched for minutes. The light cast through the tower's windows created a strobe effect, shadows dancing and writhing across the walls like living things.

"The fuel is exhausted," Volcanica murmured, his voice already sounding more distant, more confused. "The sun cannot sustain itself. It dies as we die."

Reid said nothing. He watched the pulsing continue, accelerating now. Bright-dark-bright-dark-bright-dark, faster and faster until the flashes blurred together into a flickering that made his eye water.

The pulsing reached a crescendo. The sun blazed one final time, a brilliant flash that lit up the entire world as bright as noon had ever been. For three heartbeats, everything was visible in perfect clarity. Every shadow burned away. Every hidden corner exposed. The light was almost painful in its intensity.

Then it stopped.

The sun didn't fade gradually. It didn't dim over minutes or hours. It simply ceased to exist as a source of light between one heartbeat and the next.

Total darkness crashed down on the world like a physical blow. The stars still hung in the sky, but their light was distant and cold. The sun remained visible as an absence, a dark sphere blocking out the stars behind it.

In the tower chamber, Reid and Volcanica sat in darkness so complete that Reid couldn't see his hand when he held it directly in front of his face. The only light came from the faintest glimmer of starlight filtering through the windows, barely enough to suggest shapes and forms rather than truly illuminate them.

"It is done," Volcanica whispered, his voice already losing coherence. "The sun... where did it... I cannot..."

Reid could hear the confusion taking hold, the fog that Volcanica had described consuming the dragon's mind with terrible speed. The darkness seemed to accelerate the process, as if the absence of light was pulling away the last threads of Volcanica's awareness.

Minutes passed. Or maybe hours. Time was difficult to gauge in the absolute darkness. Volcanica's confused muttering gradually faded, replaced by the slow rhythm of the dragon's breathing. In and out. In and out. Each breath coming slightly slower than the last.

Then even that stopped.

The silence that followed was complete. No breathing. No movement. Nothing.

"Goodbye, old friend," Reid said to the darkness.

He felt it then. His own dissolution beginning. The magic that had sustained him as a construct was unraveling, no longer tethered to purpose. He'd existed to test Flugel, to forge the boy into what he needed to be. That task was done. The trials complete. There was no reason for Reid Astrea to continue existing.

It didn't hurt. It felt more like falling asleep, consciousness gently fading around the edges. His sense of the physical world grew distant, muffled. The cold became abstract. His body became a suggestion rather than a certainty.

"Worth it," Reid murmured to no one, his voice already sounding far away even to his own ears. "Whatever happens next... worth it..."

The darkness claimed him, and Reid Astrea, the first Sword Saint, ceased to exist for the second and final time.

In the tower, two bodies lay in the absolute dark. A dragon and a man, both unmoving, both silent. Around them, four hundred years of accumulated knowledge sat in shelves and rooms that no one would ever read now. The trials that had been designed to test those who sought wisdom would never be attempted again. The watchtower that had stood as a monument to Flugel's legacy was now a tomb.

And outside, across the world, humanity faced its first night in a darkness unbroken by sun or moon.

The stars remained. Millions of them, scattered across the black canvas of the sky like diamonds on velvet. Without the sun's light to wash them out, they shone with a clarity and brightness that had never been visible before. The Milky Way stretched across the heavens in a river of light, nebulae visible as faint smudges of color against the dark. Distant galaxies that human eyes had never perceived before now glimmered on the edge of visibility.

The universe revealed itself in all its vast, uncaring glory. A reminder of how small the world was, how insignificant, how fragile.

People stared upward at the alien sky, seeing the cosmos properly for the first time in their lives. The darkness pressed down on them, heavy and suffocating. The cold intensified without even the red sun's meager warmth to ward it off.

In towns and villages across the kingdoms, people began lighting every fire they could. Torches, lanterns, braziers, anything that would push back the dark. But fire could only illuminate so much, and the darkness beyond the flickering circles of light seemed to have weight, seemed to be alive and hungry.

The temperature plummeted. Without any solar radiation at all, the world's heat began radiating out into space with nothing to replenish it. Frost that had been forming slowly over weeks now appeared in minutes. Water froze solid. Exposed skin went numb within seconds. Breath clouded and crystallized, ice forming in beards and hair.

People retreated into their homes, huddling around fires, wrapping themselves in every piece of cloth they owned. But even stone walls couldn't keep out the cold that was settling over the world. Even the most secure shelter was only delaying the inevitable.

The world had entered its final night.

The town of Zesperga huddled at the base of Jimuna Volcano like a collection of children seeking warmth from a dangerous parent. Even from a distance, Subaru could see the orange glow emanating from the volcano's peak, the only natural source of heat left in this dying world. Smoke rose in thick columns, and the air itself seemed to shimmer with warmth that felt almost offensive after weeks of bone-deep cold.

"That's a lot of Witch Cultists," Shaula observed from where they'd stopped Beast on a ridge overlooking the town. Her multi-pupiled eyes tracked the movement below with predatory focus. "Shaula counts maybe... three hundred? Four hundred? They're everywhere."

Subaru could see them too. Black-robed figures moved through the streets with the confidence of occupiers rather than invaders. The townspeople who remained visible looked thin and haunted, moving quickly from building to building with their heads down. Guard posts had been established at every major intersection, and the Witch Cult's banners hung from buildings that should have been flying Gusteko's colors.

"Capella's turned this into a fortress," Subaru muttered, his hand unconsciously moving to touch the crystal at his neck. Still cold. Still silent. "Getting in quietly is going to be difficult."

"Does Master want to get in quietly?" Shaula's tone suggested she already knew the answer.

Subaru was quiet for a moment, studying the town. His whip coiled at his side. Polaris burned bright on his shoulder, the fire spirit's flames reflecting his own determination. He could feel the Authority of Greed coiled inside him, ready to expand space and create impossible distances. The Authority of Sloth manifested as phantom hands that waited for his command.

"No," he said finally. "Quiet was never really an option. We're going in, we're finding Capella, and we're taking her Witch Factor. Whatever happens after that... we'll deal with it."

"That's the Master Shaula knows!" Shaula's grin was fierce. "Should Shaula start shooting, or does Master want to make an entrance first?"

Before Subaru could answer, the decision was made for them.

A patrol of Cultists had spotted them on the ridge. Subaru saw them pointing, shouting, raising what looked like signal flares. Within seconds, bells began ringing throughout Zesperga, an alarm that sent Cultists scrambling toward weapons and defensive positions.

"So much for the element of surprise," Subaru said.

"Shaula thinks Master jinxed it by saying 'quiet was never an option'!" Shaula was already taking aim, her fingers glowing with the preliminary light of Hell's Snipe. "Permission to engage?"

Where did she learn all these military quotes?

"Permission granted. Let's make this count."

Shaula's first shot vaporized the signal tower before the flare could be fully raised. The needle of concentrated mana punched through stone and wood like they were paper, and the structure collapsed in a shower of debris. Her second shot took out a guard post, the explosion of impact sending Cultists scattering.

"Hell's Snipe!" Another dozen needles materialized, each one glowing with deadly intent. They launched simultaneously, arcing through the air at speeds that turned them into streaks of plasma. Each one found a target—guard towers, weapon caches, concentrations of Cultists. The air itself screamed as the needles passed through it, the heat and speed creating miniature sonic booms.

Subaru didn't wait to see the results. He urged Beast forward, charging down the ridge toward the town's outskirts. His whip unfurled, Polaris's flames extending its reach to fifty meters of burning cord. The first group of Cultists who moved to intercept him never stood a chance.

The whip cracked, and three Cultists were caught in its burning length. Subaru yanked them off their feet, flinging them into their companions. Before the rest could recover, his Invisible Providence hands materialised. They grabbed Cultists and slammed them into the ground, into walls, into each other with bone-breaking force.

A Cultist tried to stab him with a dagger. Subaru activated his Authority of Greed, and the space between them expanded. The man lunged forward but covered no ground, trapped in an ever-growing bubble of distance. Subaru's whip found him anyway, wrapping around his throat and squeezing until the man went limp.

"FOR THE WITCH!" A group of Cultists charged from a side street, maybe twenty of them, their faces twisted with fanatical devotion.

"Wrong Witch," Subaru said coldly.

His Authority compressed the space around them, creating a sphere where distance became meaningless. They were suddenly pressed together, unable to move, unable to breathe. Then Subaru released it, and the space snapped back to normal. Several Cultists collapsed immediately, their bodies unable to handle the sudden spatial distortion. The rest scattered in panic.

Behind him, Shaula was providing covering fire. Her Hell's Snipe needles continued to rain down, each shot precise and devastating. A group of Cultists trying to flank Subaru from rooftops found themselves turned to paste as needles punched through their positions. A barricade that had been set up to block the main street exploded into splinters.

"Master! Incoming from the left!" Shaula's warning came just in time.

Subaru turned to see a massive fireball heading directly for him. He couldn't dodge - it was too large, moving too fast. Instead, he activated his Authority of Greed and expanded the space between himself and the attack. The fireball traveled and traveled, its distance growing exponentially with each meter it covered, until it fizzled out from losing momentum.

The mage who'd cast it stared in confusion, then terror, as Subaru's Invisible Providence hands grabbed him and lifted him thirty feet into the air before dropping him.

They pushed deeper into the town, and Subaru began to notice something. The townspeople weren't hiding anymore. Windows and doors that had been shuttered were opening. People were emerging, and they were armed with whatever they could find. Farming tools. Kitchen knives. Clubs made from broken furniture.

A man, maybe forty years old with gaunt features and desperate eyes, drove a pitchfork through a Cultist's back. A woman hit another with a frying pan hard enough to cave in his skull. An old man threw oil from his lamp onto a group of Cultists and set them ablaze with a torch.

The riot had begun.

"THE WITCH CULT IS BEING ATTACKED!" someone shouted. "FIGHT! FIGHT FOR YOUR HOMES!"

Cultists who'd been confident moments ago now found themselves surrounded by angry townspeople. The Witch Cult's occupation had been maintained through fear and superior numbers, but those numbers were suddenly far less superior as the population rose up. And with Subaru and Shaula tearing through their defensive positions, that fear was evaporating, replaced by rage and desperation.

"Master's caused a rebellion!" Shaula called out, her voice carrying a note of approval. "Very effective strategy!"

"I'll take credit for it later," Subaru responded, his whip taking down another group of Cultists. "Right now, we need to find Capella before she rallies a proper defense!"

But even as he said it, Subaru felt the hairs on the back of his neck stand up. A presence, massive and malevolent, had just become aware of him. He could feel eyes on him, attention focusing with predatory intensity.

"Well, well, well," a voice rang out across the chaos, amplified somehow to be heard over the sounds of battle. It was feminine, mocking, with an undercurrent of cruelty that made Subaru's teeth clench. "What do we have here? A little rat who thinks he can invade Mother's territory?"

"Shaula! Remember our plan, do your part now!"

Shaula nodded, looking a little troubled.. but she would follow her master's orders without fail.

Capella appeared on a rooftop ahead of them, her golden hair catching the light from Jimuna Volcano. She wore her revealing outfit - hot pants, bikini top, nothing else - and her yaeba became prominent as she grinned down at them. Even from this distance, Subaru could see the resemblance to the Lugunican Royal Family in her features.

"Oh my, oh my!" Capella's grin widened. "It's you! How wonderful! Mother was hoping you'd come visit!"

Subaru's grip on his whip tightened.

Capella threw her head back and laughed, the sound grating against Subaru's nerves. "Your expression. Your anger! How presumptuous! How arrogant! Mother loves it! You remind Mother of someone... someone equally foolish, equally bold..." Her eyes gleamed with malicious delight. "You'd make such a wonderful Archbishop of Pride! Has anyone told you that? The way you strut around, convinced you're the hero, convinced you're doing the right thing while leaving destruction in your wake! It's perfect! It's beautiful!"

"I'm nothing like Pride," Subaru said, but the words felt hollow even to him.

"Aren't you though?" Capella's form began to shift, her body rippling like liquid metal. "Let Mother show you what she sees!"

Her transformation was rapid and nauseating. Her golden hair darkened to black. Her features rearranged themselves. Within seconds, she'd taken on a familiar face - Subaru's face, but twisted with cruelty and arrogance.

"Look at me!" Capella said in Subaru's voice, though with that mocking tone still present. "I'm Natsuki Subaru! I kill people without checking if they're innocent! I abandon my friends to pursue my own selfish goals! I summon the Witch of Envy and nearly destroy a city! But it's okay, because I'm the protagonist! I'm special!"

Subaru's vision went red. His Authority of Greed surged, and he didn't even consciously direct it. Space around Capella compressed violently, trying to crush her where she stood.

But Capella was already moving, leaping from the rooftop as the building collapsed behind her. She transformed mid-air, her body becoming something serpentine and quick. She landed in the street between them, her form shifting back to her default appearance.

"Ooh, Mother struck a nerve! How delightful!" Capella's grin was manic now.

"Shut up." Subaru's whip lashed out, extending to its maximum range.

Capella transformed her arm into a lion's head, and the jaws caught the whip mid-strike. The flames from Polaris burned the flesh, but Capella just laughed as her body healed the damage instantly. She yanked on the whip, trying to pull Subaru off balance.

Instead, Subaru used his Invisible Providence hands to anchor himself in place, and activated his Authority of Greed to expand the space along the whip's length. Suddenly Capella was holding onto a weapon that stretched hundreds of meters, the tension in the cord multiplying exponentially. When Subaru released the expansion, the whip snapped back with devastating force.

Capella was yanked forward, her feet leaving the ground. She transformed mid-flight, her body becoming dozens of rats that scattered in every direction.

Subaru's Invisible Providence hands grabbed ten of the rats, slamming them into the ground. Polaris's flames incinerated another five. But the rest escaped, reforming behind Subaru as Capella's default form.

"Mother is impressed!" Capella clapped her hands together. "You've learned some tricks! But let Mother show you what real power looks like!"

Her body exploded outward, flesh rippling and expanding. Horns grew from her head. Scales covered her skin. Wings unfurled from her back. Within seconds, she'd become the black dragon Subaru had seen in the capital, though smaller—maybe ten meters tall rather than the massive form she'd used before.

Black flames erupted from her maw.

Subaru expanded the space between himself and the flames, creating a corridor where the fire couldn't reach. At the same time, his Invisible Providence hands grabbed chunks of rubble from destroyed buildings and hurled them at Capella's dragon form.

The dragon's tail swept out, shattering the rubble mid-flight. Her wings beat once, lifting her into the air. More black flames rained down, and Subaru had to keep moving, keep dodging, keep using his Authority to create safe zones in the firestorm.

A building to his left collapsed, consumed by Capella's flames. People screamed—townspeople who'd been taking shelter there. Subaru saw bodies in the wreckage, some burning, some already dead.

"Having fun yet?" Capella's voice boomed from the dragon's throat. "Mother certainly is! Look at all this destruction! Look at all these people dying because you came here! Just like the capital! Just like everywhere you go! Death follows you, Natsuki Subaru! You're a walking disaster!"

"I said shut up!" Subaru's rage peaked, and he stopped holding back.

Twenty Invisible Providence hands materialized at once, far more than he should be able to maintain. The mental strain was immediate and agonizing, but Subaru pushed through it. The hands grabbed Capella's dragon form from every angle—wings, tail, legs, neck. They pulled, constricting, preventing movement.

Capella struggled, her dragon form thrashing. Black flames poured from her mouth, but Subaru's spatial manipulation kept them away.

"Polaris!" Subaru commanded. "Everything you've got!"

The fire spirit blazed white-hot, her flames concentrating into a single point. She shot forward like a comet, trailing plasma, and hit Capella's chest with the force of a meteor.

The explosion was blinding. When Subaru's vision cleared, Capella's dragon form was charred and smoking, a massive hole punched through her chest.

For a moment, Subaru dared to hope he'd actually killed her.

Then the flesh around the wound began to ripple. The hole filled in with new tissue, flowing like liquid metal. Within seconds, Capella was completely healed, and she was laughing.

"Wonderful! Magnificent! Mother hasn't felt this alive in years!" The dragon's form shifted, becoming smaller, more compact. Capella returned to her default appearance, though her skin still held that liquid metal quality. "But Mother is getting bored of this form. Let's try something else!"

Her body rippled again, and this time she became... Emilia.

Perfect silver hair. Violet eyes. That gentle expression that Subaru had seen twisted with horror in the capital. Capella wore Emilia's face like a mask, and her grin was all wrong on those features.

"How about this?" Capella said in Emilia's voice. "Does this face make it harder to attack Mother? Are you remembering her expression when you killed her mother? When you summoned the Witch who wears her face? Such delicious pain!"

"How the fuck does she know that?"

Subaru's whip struck before he'd consciously decided to move. It wrapped around Capella's throat, and he pulled hard enough to snap a normal person's neck.

Capella just laughed, her body transforming to absorb the blow. The whip passed through flesh that had become liquid, offering no resistance.

"Still fighting? Good!" Capella's form shifted back to her default. "But Mother needs to attend to another pest. Roy! Stop playing with your food and actually contribute!"

"We were wondering when you'd call, Mother," Roy said, his voice carrying that collective speech pattern. "We were having too much fun with the scorpion lady, tsu."

Subaru looked to where Roy had been, and saw Shaula engaged in combat. Except it wasn't really combat - it was suppression. Shaula stood on a distant rooftop, and her hands were glowing constantly with Hell's Snipe. Needle after needle materialized and launched, each one turning the air around it into plasma from sheer speed and heat.

Roy was dodging, leaping, using that teleportation. But he couldn't get close. Couldn't attack. Every time he tried to advance, another needle would force him back, or clip him, leaving bleeding wounds that healed too slowly.

"Shaula is not interested in Gluttony's games!" Shaula's voice carried across the distance, cheerful despite the deadly dance she was performing. "Shaula only cares about keeping Master safe! So Gluttony can either keep dodging or die! Shaula doesn't care which!"

Roy's frustration was visible even from this distance. He was fast, incredibly fast. But Shaula's needles were faster. And there were so many of them, a constant barrage that gave no openings.

"We're getting frustrated, tsu," Roy muttered, dodging another cluster of needles that vaporized the rooftop where he'd been standing. "This isn't how this is supposed to go, tsu. We're supposed to be eating you, tsu. We're supposed to be devouring your memories and skills and adding them to our collection, tsu."

The needles kept coming. Hell's Snipe after Hell's Snipe, each one capable of punching through steel, each one moving fast enough to create sonic booms. The air around the battlefield was filled with the screaming of displaced atmosphere and the flash of plasma trails.

Roy used Leaper to teleport behind Shaula, trying to get an angle. But she'd already anticipated it, spinning and firing before he'd fully materialized. He had to abort the attack and leap away again.

"Stand still, tsu!" Roy snarled.

"Shaula thinks Gluttony should take his own advice!" More needles, forming a cage of plasma around Roy's position. He barely escaped, his clothes singed from the heat.

They were in a stalemate. Roy couldn't advance. Shaula couldn't pursue without leaving Subaru vulnerable. So they danced, predator and predator, neither able to land a killing blow.

Subaru turned his attention back to Capella, who'd been watching the exchange with amusement. "Your Archbishop is losing."

"Mother doesn't care about Roy's performance," Capella said dismissively. "He's useful sometimes, but ultimately disposable. Just like everyone except Mother herself!" Her grin widened. "Now, where were we? Oh yes! Mother was showing you what real power looks like!"

She lunged, faster than Subaru could track. Her hand, transformed into a blade, stabbed toward his heart.

Subaru's Invisible Providence hands intercepted, catching her wrist. But the flesh simply flowed around the grip, liquid metal that couldn't be held. The blade punched through his jacket, through his shirt, stopping just as it touched skin.

Then Subaru compressed the space around Capella's entire body.

The effect was immediate. Capella's form, which had been flowing and liquid, suddenly compressed into a sphere no larger than a fist. The pressure was immense, reality itself squeezing down on her with crushing force.

For three seconds, it held.

Then Capella's Authority pushed back. Her body exploded outward, breaking free of the spatial compression through pure transformative power. She reformed several meters away, her default appearance restored, though her breathing was heavier.

"That... that actually hurt" Capella said, and for the first time, there was genuine surprise in her voice. "Mother didn't expect that. You're more interesting than Mother thought!"

"Good," Subaru said. His head was pounding from the strain of using both his Authority and maintaining so many Invisible Providence hands. Blood was running from his nose. "Because I'm done being interesting. I'm done playing games. And I'm done with you."

He activated his Authority again, but this time, instead of trying to compress or expand space around Capella, he did something different. He created a corridor of compressed space leading directly from his position to the volcano in the distance.

Then his Invisible Providence hands grabbed Capella with every ounce of strength they possessed.

And he threw her.

Capella rocketed through the compressed space corridor, covering miles in seconds. Her scream of surprise and rage carried across the distance. 

He released the spatial compression.

Capella hit the inside of Jimuna Volcano's caldera with enough force to shake the ground beneath Zesperga.

For a moment, everything stopped. The fighting. The screaming. The chaos. Everyone stared toward the volcano in stunned silence.

Subaru stood in the center of the destroyed street, breathing hard, blood running down his face from the strain of pushing his Authority too far. His Invisible Providence hands had dissipated from the effort. His whip hung limp at his side, the flames guttering.

"Master..." Shaula's voice was awed. "Master just threw a dragon into a volcano."

"Yeah," Subaru managed. "I did."

Then the volcano erupted. It was violent, catastrophic, the entire mountain seeming to explode outward. Massive chunks of rock flew into the air. The ground shook so hard that buildings in Zesperga began to collapse. People fell to their knees, unable to stand.

And from the heart of the eruption, a massive black-scaled monstrosity Subaru had seen in the capital emerged. Thirty meters tall, maybe forty, with golden horns that gleamed in the light of the erupting volcano. Her wings were vast enough to blot out the sky. Her eyes burned with pure, incandescent rage.

"YOU DARE!" Capella's voice shook the air itself, a roar that made buildings vibrate. "YOU DARE THROW MOTHER INTO A VOLCANO?! MOTHER WILL MAKE YOU REGRET EXISTING! MOTHER WILL TURN YOU INTO A FORMLESS PILE OF MEAT AND KEEP YOU ALIVE TO EXPERIENCE IT FOR ETERNITY!"

Black flames poured from her maw, not in controlled bursts but in a continuous torrent that set entire blocks of Zesperga ablaze. Her tail swept out, demolishing buildings. Her claws tore through stone like paper.

The earthquake intensified. Jimuna Volcano, disturbed by Capella's impact and subsequent transformation, was now actively erupting. Lava began to flow down its sides, and the air filled with ash and heat.

Subaru stared up at the massive dragon, at the destruction she was causing in her rage, and one thought crystallised in his mind with absolute clarity: "I fucked up."

"MASTER!" Shaula appeared beside him, her usual cheer completely gone. "MASTER, WHAT DO WE DO?! SHAULA CAN'T SHOOT HER DOWN WHEN SHE'S THAT BIG! THE NEEDLES WON'T PENETRATE DEEP ENOUGH!"

"I don't know," Subaru admitted, his voice barely audible over the sounds of destruction. "I don't know."

Roy appeared on a nearby pile of rubble, his emerald eyes wide with something that might have been fear or excitement or both. "Well, tsu," he said, his voice carrying dark amusement. "We suppose Mother is serious now, tsu. We almost feel bad for you, tsu. Almost."

Capella's massive form turned toward them, her burning eyes fixing on Subaru with murderous intent. Her wings beat once, creating winds strong enough to knock over what few buildings remained standing. She began to descend, and Subaru could see her jaws opening, black flames building in her throat.

This was it. This was the moment where his arrogance, his anger, his refusal to think through consequences finally caught up to him in a way he couldn't escape.

The massive dragon opened her maw, and hellfire descended.

Subaru's hands shot up instinctively, and he pulled on his Authority of Greed with everything he had left. Space expanded around him and Shaula, creating a bubble where distance became meaningless. The flames hit the edge of the expanded space and began traveling, covering meters that stretched into hundreds, into thousands, as the bubble grew.

But the cost was immediate and devastating.

Blood exploded from Subaru's nose, his ears, the corners of his eyes. His entire body convulsed, muscles spasming uncontrollably as his brain tried to process the mental strain of maintaining a spatial distortion large enough to encompass both him and Shaula while Capella's full draconic fury poured down around them. It felt like his skull was being crushed in a vice, like his consciousness was fragmenting into a thousand pieces.

"Master!" Shaula grabbed him as his legs gave out, supporting his weight. "Master, you're bleeding everywhere! You need to stop!"

"Can't... stop..." Subaru forced the words out through gritted teeth. His vision was going dark at the edges, his hands shaking so violently he could barely keep them raised. "If I stop... we die..."

The flames continued to pour down, and Subaru watched in horror as his spatial bubble began to collapse. He couldn't maintain it. His concentration was slipping, his power faltering. The black fire was getting closer, the heat becoming unbearable even through the protection.

Capella's massive draconic form circled above them, her wings beating to maintain altitude. "PATHETIC!" her voice boomed across the burning town. "IS THIS ALL THE BOY WHO SUMMONED THE WITCH CAN DO?! MOTHER EXPECTED MORE! MOTHER IS DISAPPOINTED!"

She dove, her massive bulk descending with terrifying speed. Her claws, each one larger than Subaru's entire body, reached for them.

Shaula's Hell's Snipe materialized instantly, dozens of needles launching upward. They struck Capella's scales and penetrated, drawing golden blood. But against her massive form, they were like bee stings to an elephant.

The dragon's claw swept through Subaru's spatial bubble, and the distortion shattered like glass. The backlash hit Subaru's mind like a physical blow, and he screamed. His legs collapsed completely, and only Shaula's grip kept him from hitting the ground.

"Master!" Shaula was firing continuously now, her needles creating a barrier of plasma between them and the descending dragon. "Master, Shaula needs Master to stay conscious! Please!"

Subaru tried to respond, but his tongue wouldn't work properly. His entire nervous system felt like it was on fire. He could barely see through the blood running down his face, could barely hear over the ringing in his ears. His hands continued to shake uncontrollably, phantom pains shooting through his fingers.

This was it. This was how he died. He had almost forgotten the feeling of it.

Roy Alphard chose that moment to attack.

The Archbishop appeared behind them using Leaper, his clawed hands reaching for Subaru's exposed back. "We've been waiting for this, tsu!" His voice carried manic glee. "We're going to eat you, tsu! Eat your name, your memories, everything you are, tsu!"

Shaula spun, still supporting Subaru with one arm while her other hand glowed with Hell's Snipe. The needle launched, and Roy barely dodged. It clipped his shoulder, tearing through flesh and sending him stumbling back.

"Stay away from Master!" Shaula's voice had lost all its cheerfulness. She sounded deadly now, a predator protecting her injured companion. "Shaula will kill Gluttony! Shaula promises!"

"We'd like to see you try, tsu!" Roy grinned, his pointed teeth visible. "We've eaten so many techniques, tsu. We've devoured so many skills, tsu. What makes you think you can beat us, tsu?"

He moved, using Leaper to appear on Shaula's left, then her right, then above her. Each time she fired, forcing him back. But she couldn't pursue while holding Subaru, and Roy knew it. He was probing her defense, looking for the opening that would let him get to Subaru.

Meanwhile, Capella had landed, her massive draconic form crushing what remained of several buildings. Her golden eyes fixed on Subaru with such hatred that he could feel it like a physical weight.

She opened her maw, black flames building - 

And then reality itself seemed to shift.

Two figures appeared as if materializing from thin air. One wore a cloak with the hood pulled low, but brilliant red hair escaped from beneath it, catching the light from the burning buildings and the volcano's glow. The other was more composed, purple hair tied back, a knight's bearing evident despite the lack of formal uniform.

Roy's hands were reaching for Subaru's face, his fingers glowing with the activation of his Authority -

A blade flashed, impossibly fast, impossibly precise. Roy's hands separated from his wrists in sprays of blood. The Archbishop stumbled backward, shock replacing his manic grin, staring at the stumps where his hands used to be.

Then a boot caught him in the chest with enough force to send him flying, his body tumbling through the air before crashing into a pile of rubble thirty meters away.

The cloaked figure landed in front of Subaru and Shaula, his stance casual despite the apocalyptic scene around them. "Huh," the man said, his voice carrying an almost apologetic tone. "Just in time. Sorry for the delay."

Subaru stared at the figure, his exhausted mind trying to process what he was seeing. The red hair was unmistakable. The way he moved, the presence he carried, even the slight awkwardness in his apology -

"Reinhard?" Subaru's voice came out as barely a whisper, broken by exhaustion and disbelief.

The cloaked figure stiffened slightly.

Subaru felt relief so intense it felt like drowning. He started laughing, except the laugh turned into a sob halfway through, tears mixing with the blood on his face. "The... the eyepatch," he managed between gasps that were half-laughter, half-crying. "It actually... it actually suits you. You look so mysterious now. Very... very dramatic entrance."

Julius, standing beside the cloaked figure, let out an undignified snicker before catching himself. His hand went to his mouth, but the damage was done - his composed knightly facade had cracked completely.

The cloaked figure - Reinhard - panicked. "How- how did you recognize me?!" His hand went up to check his hood and eyepatch, making sure they were in place.

Subaru rolled his eyes despite his exhaustion, his cry-laughing subsiding into something more controlled. "Are you kidding? No one else in this entire world would make such a dramatic entrance. And also-" He gestured weakly at the escaped red hair. "-that hair is brighter than the sun used to be. You're not exactly subtle, Reinhard."

Reinhard's remaining eye went wide, and he reached up to frantically tuck the escaped strands back under his hood.

Julius stepped forward, his purple eyes studying Subaru with a mixture of wariness and curiosity. The knight's posture was guarded, one hand resting near his sword hilt, but his expression was conflicted. "You seem... friendly enough," Julius said carefully. "But after what happened in the capital, after the Witch of Envy's manifestation, and the reports of Mirula..." He paused. "We need to be cautious."

"I understand," Subaru said, forcing himself to focus despite the exhaustion threatening to pull him under. "I know how it looks. I know what you must think of me."

Then his expression shifted, something mischievous breaking through the pain and fatigue. He turned his gaze directly to Julius. "But seriously, it's been a while, bastard. I certainly haven't missed your voice and face. Even without your spirits and outfit, you look so knightly it's nauseating."

The teasing tone was unmistakable, carrying a familiarity that spoke of shared history and inside jokes. And despite the words being technically insulting, they were delivered with a warmth that made them sound almost affectionate.

Julius froze. His eyes went wide. His mind was racing, putting pieces together. This boy clearly knew them. Knew them intimately. Called Reinhard by name despite his disguise. Teased Julius with the kind of familiarity that only came from deep friendship. And he'd mentioned not missing Julius specifically...

"How..." Julius's voice came out strangled, stuttering. "How do you remember me?"

The question hung in the air, heavy with implication. Because Julius's name had been eaten by Gluttony. Everyone had forgotten him.

Subaru's expression softened, the teasing fading into something sadder, more understanding. His voice, when he spoke, was quiet but carried clearly in the sudden stillness. "I'm not the only one suffering from Gluttony's power."

Reinhard's remaining eye widened as understanding crashed over him. This boy - this stranger who wasn't a stranger at all - had also been a victim of Gluttony's Authority. Had lost something precious to that monster's hunger.

They were seeing someone who not only knew them intimately but had been their friend once. Someone who'd fought beside them, laughed with them, probably saved their lives and been saved in return. Someone who should have been with them all along but had been stolen away by the same power that had taken Julius's name.

Reinhard's hand tightened on his sword hilt, and his face set with determination. Julius nodded, his own resolve crystallizing. Whatever doubts they'd had, whatever suspicions, didn't matter anymore. This person needed their help.

"I know you can't trust me," Subaru continued, his voice still weak but steady. "I know how everything looks. But please, believe me when I say I mean no harm to you or anyone innocent. I just want Capella and Roy dead. I want the whole fucking Witch Cult gone from this world."

Reinhard pulled his sword free - Even without his divine protections, the weapon sang as it left its sheath. "Then let's make it happen," he said simply.

"Agreed," Julius added, his own blade coming free with practiced ease. "We'll get answers after we deal with these monsters."

They turned as one toward Capella's massive draconic form, and for a moment, Subaru almost felt hope again.

Then the battle truly began.

Reinhard moved first, and even without his divine protections, his speed was breathtaking. He closed the distance to Capella's dragon form in seconds, his blade already in motion. The strike carved a line across her front leg, deep enough to draw golden blood.

Capella roared, her massive head swinging toward this new threat. Black flames erupted from her maw, but Reinhard was already moving, dodging with reflexes honed through years of training. His blade found her neck, opening another wound.

"YOU DARE?!" Capella's voice shook the air. "MOTHER WILL CRUSH YOU! MOTHER WILL—"

Julius's sword found her eye.

The knight had used Reinhard's attack as a distraction, circling around to strike at the dragon's vulnerable spots. The blade punched through the membrane, and Capella's roar became a shriek of genuine pain. She thrashed, her tail sweeping out to crush the annoying insects attacking her.

But they were already gone, moving with a coordination that spoke of countless battles fought side by side. Reinhard struck high while Julius went low. They wove between her attacks, their blades finding scales and flesh with devastating precision.

Subaru watched in awe despite his exhaustion. Even weakened, even mortal, Reinhard was still the Sword Saint in skill if not in title. And Julius moved like water, his blade an extension of his will. Together, they were a force of nature.

Capella tried to fly, her wings beating to gain altitude. But Julius's sword found the membrane of her left wing, tearing a hole that made sustained flight impossible. She crashed back down, buildings collapsing under her weight.

"Roy!" Capella bellowed. "Stop playing and help Mother!"

But Roy had his own problems.

Subaru had staggered to his feet, using Shaula for support. His head was still pounding, his hands still shaking, but he could stand. And standing meant he could fight.

Roy had regenerated his hands, the flesh flowing back into place with Capella's healing, but he looked wary now. He'd seen what happened to Capella when she faced serious opponents. The cocky grin was gone, replaced by calculation.

"We need to eat you quickly, tsu," Roy muttered, his emerald eyes fixed on Subaru. "Before we lose our chance, tsu."

"You're not eating anyone," Shaula said coldly. Her hands glowed with Hell's Snipe, but she didn't fire yet. She was waiting, watching Roy's positioning.

Roy used Leaper to close the distance, appearing directly in front of Subaru. His hand reached out, glowing with the activation of his Authority—

Subaru's Invisible Providence hands materialized, far fewer than before, only five, the most he could maintain in his current state, but they were enough. They grabbed Roy's arms, his legs, his torso, holding him in place.

"Shaula!" Subaru gasped. "Now!"

But Roy was already breaking free, his consumed techniques giving him the strength to tear through the invisible restraints. He twisted, his hand coming up toward Subaru's face-

Shaula's Hell's Snipe took him in the shoulder, spinning him around. The Archbishop stumbled, and Subaru used the opening to activate his Authority of Greed.

Space compressed around Roy, shrinking the bubble he occupied. The Archbishop's eyes went wide as he felt the pressure building, felt reality itself trying to crush him into an impossibly small point.

"We won't— we can't—" Roy's voice was strained, his body struggling against the compression. "We refuse to die here, tsu!"

He used every technique he'd devoured. Ultimate Palm to try to break the compression. Carnivorous Beast to strengthen his body against the pressure. Leaper to try to escape-

But Subaru held on. His entire focus narrowed to this single task: keeping Roy trapped, keeping the space compressed, not letting him escape. Blood poured from his nose, his eyes, his ears. His consciousness wavered, threatening to slip away.

"Master is going to kill himself!" Shaula shouted, but she understood what needed to happen. Her hands began to glow, brighter than before, as she poured everything she had into one final Hell's Snipe. The air around her hands turned to plasma, the heat intense enough to make nearby stones glow.

The needle formed a massive, brilliant, more concentrated mana than should be possible to compress into such a small space. It looked less like a physical projectile and more like a piece of a star, burning with impossible heat.

Subaru released the spatial compression.

For a fraction of a second, Roy's body snapped back to awareness, his form no longer constrained. He had just enough time to realize what was happening, to understand that he'd been released not out of mercy but to make him a better target.

Shaula's final Hell's Snipe launched.

The needle crossed the distance between them faster than sound, faster than thought. The air around it ionized completely, creating a trail of pure plasma that burned away everything in its path.

Roy tried to dodge, tried to use Leaper one final time-

The needle hit him in the center of his chest and continued through, punching out his back and continuing for another hundred meters before detonating against a distant building.

But the real damage was what it did to Roy's body on the way through.

The Archbishop's torso simply ceased to exist. The heat and force of the impact vaporized everything from his shoulders to his waist, leaving only his head and upper neck attached to nothing, falling toward the ground.

The head hit the stones and rolled, those emerald eyes wide with shock and disbelief. The mouth opened and closed soundlessly, trying to form words with a throat that no longer existed.

Then the eyes went glassy, and Roy Alphard moved no more.

Subaru collapsed. His legs gave out completely, and he hit the ground hard, every muscle in his body screaming. His consciousness flickered, threatening to go out like a candle in a storm.

Shaula was beside him instantly. "Master! Master, please stay awake! Master did it! Master killed Gluttony!"

But Subaru barely heard her. His attention was fixed on the battle between Reinhard, Julius, and Capella, which had reached a fever pitch.

The dragon was wounded now, seriously wounded. Her scales were cracked and bleeding from dozens of strikes. One eye was ruined. Her wings were tattered. Golden blood pooled beneath her massive form.

But she was still fighting, still regenerating, still refusing to fall.

"MOTHER WILL NOT BE DEFEATED BY INSECTS!" Capella roared. "MOTHER IS ETERNAL! MOTHER IS PERFECT! MOTHER IS—"

Reinhard's blade found her throat, opening a massive wound. Julius's sword stabbed into her other eye, blinding her completely.

The dragon thrashed, her movements becoming more desperate, more erratic. She tried to transform, to shift into something smaller and faster, but the knights were relentless. Every time her body began to change, another sword strike would disrupt the transformation.

Shaula joined the fight, her needles striking from a distance. Each one penetrated deep, far deeper than they had when Capella was at full strength.

Subaru watched from the ground, unable to move, barely able to stay conscious and then the sky itself changed.

It started with a flicker. The red sun that had hung in the sky for weeks, dying and dim, began to pulse again. Not regularly like before, but erratically, desperately.

Everyone stopped fighting. Cultists who'd been fleeing or hiding. Townspeople who'd been rioting. Even Capella's thrashing stilled as all eyes turned skyward.

The sun's red light intensified, burning brighter, then darker, then brighter again. The rhythm was chaotic, unpredictable. Pulse-flash-darkness. Pulse-flash-darkness. Getting faster, more frantic.

"What..." Julius's voice was barely audible. "What's happening?"

Subaru knew. Somehow, he knew. This was the final collapse, whatever had caused the sun to change in the first place, was reaching its conclusion.

He reached for the crystal at his neck, pulled on the connection to Satella with every ounce of will he had left. "Satella," he whispered desperately. "Please. I need you. Please respond. Please."

Nothing.

The sun pulsed again, brighter than it had been in days. For one glorious moment, it looked almost normal, golden and warm. The temperature actually rose fractionally, enough that people could feel it through the perpetual cold.

Then it collapsed, it simply stopped, like someone had flipped a switch. The sun went from brilliant gold to absolute darkness in the space between heartbeats.

Total darkness crashed down on the world. The only light came from the fires still burning in Zesperga and the glow of Jimuna Volcano, casting everything in hellish orange and red.

People screamed. Some fell to their knees in prayer. Others simply wept. The Witch Cultists began chanting, their voices rising in some dark hymn to powers they didn't understand.

Subaru kept pulling on the connection to Satella, desperate, terrified. "Please," he begged. "Please answer me. Please-"

And then, finally, after weeks of silence, he felt it.

Warmth flooded through the connection. Satella's consciousness touched his, and Subaru felt relief so intense it brought fresh tears to his eyes.

I'm here, her voice echoed in his mind. I'm sorry I made you wait. But I'm here now. I'll always be here for you.

"Satella," Subaru said aloud, his voice carrying across the suddenly silent battlefield. 

Darkness exploded from the ground beneath Subaru, shadows erupting in a fountain of pure void. They spread outward in waves, drowning everything in their path. The fires guttered and died. The glow from the volcano dimmed. Even the starlight seemed to be absorbed, consumed by the absolute black of Satella's shadows.

And from those shadows, she emerged.

Silver hair that seemed to glow with its own light despite the darkness. Violet eyes that held both infinite love and infinite sorrow. Her black dress with orange ornaments flowed around her like it was woven from the shadows themselves, its edges indistinct, bleeding into the void that surrounded her.

The Witch of Envy had manifested.

Her presence was overwhelming. Everyone who looked at her felt it - a weight that crushed their thoughts, a power that made them want to kneel and worship and flee all at once. The Witch Cultists' chanting reached a fever pitch, many of them collapsing as madness took them completely.

"THE WITCH! THE WITCH! THE WITCH OF ENVY HAS COME!"

"THE MESSIAH! THE APOSTLE! THE ONE WHO COMMANDS HER!"

"BLESSED BE THE WITCH'S CHOSEN! BLESSED BE HER VESSEL!"

The cultists' voices overlapped, creating a cacophony of worship and madness. Some were pointing at Subaru, prostrating themselves in his direction. Others simply clawed at their own faces, unable to handle the reality of seeing their deity made flesh.

But Satella ignored them all. Her eyes were fixed on Subaru, and in three steps, she was beside him. Her hands cupped his face gently, her expression one of absolute concern.

"You're hurt," she said softly, her voice carrying despite the chaos. "You pushed yourself too far again. You beautiful, stubborn fool."

"I'm okay," Subaru lied. "I'm just glad you're here."

"I am sorry that I did not come before. I was scared.." Satella's thumb gently wiped blood from his cheek. "But I will never abandon you Subaru."

Then her expression hardened, and she turned to look at Capella.

The dragon had been trying to flee, to take advantage of the confusion and escape. But the moment Satella's gaze fell on her, Capella froze, the shadowy hands had erupted from the ground, wrapping around her massive limbs, her wings, her throat. They held her completely immobile, and for the first time since the battle began, genuine fear showed in the Archbishop's remaining eye.

"No," Capella's voice was small now, all her arrogance gone. "No, please. Mother doesn't want to die. Mother just wanted to be loved."

"Al Shamak," Satella said softly.

The spell activated with terrifying simplicity. There was no dramatic buildup, no visible casting. Satella simply spoke the words, and reality obeyed.

Capella Emerada Lugunica, the Sin Archbishop of Lust, had been removed from existence.

Satella turned back to Subaru and knelt beside him, gathering him into her arms. She clutched him tightly, almost desperately, and Subaru could feel her shaking slightly.

"I was so worried," she whispered into his hair. "When I felt your panic through the connection, when I sensed how much danger you were in, I thought..."

"You won't lose me," Subaru promised, though he could barely keep his eyes open. "At worse, I would just come back.", Subaru tried to joke.

Satella seemed to become only sadder at that.

Around them, the scene was one of absolute chaos. The Witch Cultists who hadn't gone completely mad were prostrating themselves, chanting Subaru's name alongside Satella's. The townspeople stared in horror and awe, not sure whether they'd been saved or doomed.

Reinhard and Julius stood frozen, their weapons still drawn, staring at the impossible sight before them. The Witch of Envy, the monster who'd nearly destroyed the world four hundred years ago, who'd killed countless people was kneeling on the ground and holding a boy like he was the most precious thing in existence.

And more than that, she was completely obedient to him. She'd manifested at his call. She'd eliminated their enemy with a single spell. She was nuzzling against his hair like a lover reuniting after a long separation.

Julius's voice came out strangled. "This... this is what Lady Emilia and Roswaal meant. I thought... I thought it was exaggeration."

But Subaru didn't have time to deal with their shock, their questions, their fear. Because something was wrong. Something worse than Capella, worse than Roy, worse than anything they'd faced so far.

The sun was dead. The world was plunged into absolute darkness. And Jimuna Volcano was still erupting, still spewing ash into the atmosphere. Subaru could feel the air growing thicker, harder to breathe, as volcanic particles filled the sky.

How long before the ash covered everything? How long before it became toxic to breathe? How long before the entire world suffocated under a blanket of darkness and choking dust?

His exhausted mind tried to find a solution, tried to think of some way to fix this. But he had nothing left. No power. No plans. No answers.

Then Polaris pulsed.

The little fire spirit emerged from where she'd been resting in Subaru's jacket. But she looked different now. Brighter. More intense. Her flames burned with a clarity and purpose they'd never held before.

Through their connection, Subaru felt an overwhelming wave of emotion. Sorrow that this was necessary. Regret that they wouldn't have more time together. Happiness at having met him. Pride in what they'd accomplished together.

"No," Subaru said, understanding dawning with horrible clarity. "No, Polaris, please don't!"

But the little spirit was already flying upward, rising into the ash-choked sky. Her flames grew brighter with each meter she ascended, illuminating the darkness around her.

Shaula's hand found Subaru's, squeezing tight. She understood too.

Polaris rose higher and higher, and then her voice rang out. A declaration that bypassed language and spoke directly to the soul of every living thing on the planet.

"IN ACCORDANCE WITH MY CONTRACT WITH THE GREAT SAGE OF THE PLEIADES WATCHTOWER, NATSUKI SUBARU, I, POLARIS, THE DIVINE SPIRIT OF FIRE, SHALL BECOME THE NEW LIGHT OF THIS WORLD."

Her voice echoed, reaching every corner of the dying world. In Lugunica, people looked up from their cold shelters. In Kararagi, merchants stopped counting their dwindling supplies. In Vollachia, even the undead paused their mindless destruction. In Gusteko, the few survivors emerged from their hiding places.

Everyone heard. Everyone understood.

"I WHO HAVE WITNESSED THE KINDNESS AND DETERMINATION OF HUMANITY THROUGH MY CONTRACTOR'S EYES, I WHO HAVE SEEN THE BEAUTY AND POTENTIAL OF THIS WORLD, I WHO HAVE KNOWN LOVE AND FRIENDSHIP AND PURPOSE..."

Polaris's flames intensified, growing from the size of a baseball to a bonfire to a conflagration that lit up the entire sky. The ash around her burned away, vaporized by heat that exceeded anything fire had ever produced.

"I CHOOSE TO BECOME YOUR SUN. I CHOOSE TO GIVE MY EXISTENCE SO THAT LIFE MAY CONTINUE. I CHOOSE TO BURN UNTIL THE LAST LIVING THING DRAWS ITS FINAL BREATH, AND THEN I SHALL BURN LONGER STILL."

Subaru was crying now, tears streaming down his blood-stained face. "Polaris, please."

But through their connection, he felt her response - Gratitude for their time together. Love for him as her contractor and friend. And absolute certainty that this was the right choice, the only choice.

"THANK YOU, NATSUKI SUBARU, FOR GIVING THIS WANDERING SPIRIT A PURPOSE. THANK YOU FOR SHOWING ME WHAT IT MEANS TO FIGHT FOR SOMETHING GREATER THAN MYSELF. THANK YOU FOR YOUR FRIENDSHIP AND LOVE!"

The flames around Polaris had grown to the size of a house, then a building, then larger still. They burned with colors that blinded everyone from their beauty - blues and purples and golds all swirling together in a dance of pure elemental power.

The transformation accelerated. Polaris's flames expanded exponentially, growing from building-sized to mountain-sized to continent-sized. The heat was intense but not destructive -it warmed without burning, illuminated without blinding. The volcanic ash that had been choking the atmosphere burned away, turned to harmless particles that drifted down like snow.

Jimuna Volcano's eruption calmed, the magma retreating back into the earth as if acknowledging a greater fire now existed. The lava flows that had been threatening Zesperga cooled and solidified, becoming harmless basalt.

"GOODBYE, MY FRIEND. UNTIL WE MEET AGAIN IN WHATEVER COMES AFTER."

The flames expanded one final time, and then they stabilized, taking their place in the sky where the old sun had been.

The new sun hung in the heavens, slightly smaller than the original, burning with a warm orange-gold light that was distinctly Polaris's color. It cast gentle warmth over the world, immediately magically melting the frost that had accumulated over weeks, bringing light back to the absolute darkness.

And in that light, people began to cheer. To laugh. To cry with relief. The nightmare was over. The sun had returned and the hope returned.

Subaru collapsed completely, Satella catching him before he hit the ground. He was sobbing openly now, his body shaking with grief and exhaustion and too many emotions to name.

"She's gone," he whispered. "Polaris is gone."

"She's not gone," Satella said gently, her own voice thick with tears as she held him. "Look up. She's right there, shining down on us. On everyone. She'll always be there now, keeping the world alive."

But it wasn't the same. Subaru had lost another companion in this world, the little fire spirit who'd been with him through everything. She'd literally given her life for this world, transformed herself into a star to save millions of people she'd never met.

"Subaru?"

The voice came from nearby, tentative and disbelieving and thick with emotion.

Subaru looked up through his tears and saw two figures approaching. A silver-haired half-elf with violet eyes that were wide with shock. And a small girl with drill-styled blonde hair, her expression equally stunned.

Emilia and Beatrice stood at the edge of the battlefield, having arrived just in time to witness Polaris's transformation. Their clothes were tattered, hair dirty and skin covered in blotches of red and brown mud signifying that they were battling their own battle.

"S-Subaru?" Emilia's voice cracked, tears already streaming down her face. "Is that... is that really you?

Chapter Text

The battlefield was quiet for the first time since the battle started. There was the crackling of dying fires and the gentle whisper of ash falling upon the charred ground. Polaris’s new luminance was casting a warm orange-gold glow over all in its path.

Subaru was at the center of the turmoil, Satella’s arms still holding him up, her figure a shield of darkness between him and the world. Shaula was hovering in the background, her multi-colored eyes fixed on every movement, her hands still glowing softly from the Hell’s Snipe that had destroyed Roy Alphard.

And there, at the edge of the destruction, stood Emilia and Beatrice.

Her violet eyes were wide, tears streaming down her face as she gazed at Subaru. Her silver hair was dishevelled, her clothes a mess of tears and burns from the battle she must have fought to arrive here. Beatrice was standing by her side. Her drills were slightly crooked, her face a complex mixture of expressions.

“Subaru".

That one word seemed to hang in the air like a question, a voice of accusation but also of plea. Subaru had just returned to them—Roy's death having shattered the rule of Gluttony, restoring what had been taken.

Subaru noticed Satella tensing up next to him. Her darkness was wrapping around her tightly. He felt her internal struggle to protect him being overruled by her realization that she was making the situation even more difficult.

“I should go,” Satella whispered softly enough that he was the only one who heard. “My presence here is only adding to their fear.”

“You don't have to—” Subaru started.

“I do,” Satella replied softly. “They have to see you, not fear me. I’ll be there for you whenever you want me. Always. Simply call for me me through the contract."

The darkness that had settled around them all started to shrink back. The heavy presence of Satella was no longer there. There was one final pulse of warmth in the crystal before she was gone.

Subaru stumbled a bit when the exhaustion caught up to him without the aid of Satella. Shaula was there in a flash to wrap her arm around his waist.

“Master is very tired,” she said firmly, her usual cheerful expression replaced by one of determined protectiveness. “Master just fought a very difficult battle and killed an Archbishop. Master needs rest.”

Emilia took a step forward, her hand extended even further. There was no longer a wall of darkness to hold her back. But for a moment, she seemed to hesitate. Her violet eyes searched Subaru’s face for something.

“Subaru, please,” Emilia’s voice shook. “I... I don’t comprehend what’s going on. I.. finally remember you.. everything..I am so sorry.. But, but where were you?"

Swallowing the words was a struggle for her. They poured forth anyway. Her hands came up to her chest. Her fingers pressed into her chest. “And int the capital.. You appeared.. And you killed her. You killed Fortuna. I watched you. I watched you kill her. And I don’t know. I know she was Sirius. I know she was the Archbishop. We fought her side by side in Priestella. I remember that. I remember how deadly she was. Her Authority was a terrifying thing. But beyond all of that. she was..”

Emilia's face contorted in its entirety. "She raised me. That was all I had left of childhood. Left of the years in the forest before the fall. And I know. I know she was corrupted. That she wasn't the same person. But the sight of her dying. Of you killing her without even knowing that—”

Her voice gave way to sobs.

Subaru's jaw locked. He wanted to defend himself. That there was no way to know. But what was the point of explaining all of that? Even if he knew, he needed that authority - Fortuna would still be dead at his hands. And the pain of Emilia would not change.

“The woman attacked Master first,” Shaula asserted matter-of-factly. “She was trying to kill Master. She was trying to kill innocent people. Shaula watched her. Master protected himself.”

“I know,” Emilia whispered back slowly. “I know she struck the first blow. I know she was deadly. I know she was the Archbishop who had to be taken down. 

Her hands tightened into fists. Ice was forming around her fingers before she controlled the reaction. “But none of that makes the pain less. The knowledge that she was a woman who had to be stopped doesn’t change the facts that she was my mother and she’s dead. I’ll never have the chance to say goodbye to who she was before."

A pain twisted in his chest. “Sorry,” he said softly. “If I’d known—if there was a way of knowing who she was—I would have.done something else. But she was killing people, Emilia. Her Authority was causing them to kill themselves. I made the best of a bad job to stop that."

"S-Subaru," it was the pained and small voice of Beatrice that punched through Subaru this time. He wanted to run away, desperately.”

Her small body was shaking. "Subaru.. Betty doesn’t remember what happened after Priestella, in fact! Betty doesn’t remember Subaru leaving! There’s just a hole where Subaru should have been, like something was ripped out of Betty’s chest. And Betty doesn’t understand why!!"

“You don't remember because Gluttony ate my name,” Subaru said, trying to maintain a steady voice. “I ceased to exist to you. To all of you. I became a stranger,” he continued.

“But Betty wouldn’t have let Subaru become a stranger to her, I suppose!” Beatrice protested desperately. “Betty would have known. Betty would have felt even without the name. Because Betty and Subaru had a contract. And contracts don’t just vanish into thin air!”

“The contract was destroyed when my name was eaten,” stated Subaru flatly.

Beatrice's face turned white. "No. No no no, that's not—Betty would have known anyway, in fact! Betty would have felt something! Betty wouldn't have just forgotten Subaru existed like Subaru meant nothing!"

“But you did,” Subaru said softly, and he loathed the pain of the words he was speaking. “You forgot me completely, Beako. Just like everyone else."

"Then why didn't you come to Betty, I suppose? Why didn't you try to explain? Julius lost his name too but we did not abandon him for that. Why did you decide to give up and abandon us Subaru?"

Subaru stayed silent, every word twisting the knife that was lodged in his heart more and more, leaving him breathless.

"S-so, you left me, just like that in fact?"

“I never left you,” he said a bit harshly. “I-I had to leave. There's a difference", Subaru tried to weakly justify himself.

“Is there, in fact?” Beatrice asked, her words punctuated by her tears. “Because Betty has Subaru’s last name back now. Betty remembers everything. And Subaru did not show up. Subaru who was ready to burn himself in a mansion to take me out of my own misery. Subaru decided to stay away instead of carrying out the contract between him and Betty!”

"Because I formed a contract with someone else," Subaru replied, even knowing how the words sounded coming from him.

Beatrice drew back as if he had struck her. "What. what do you mean, in fact?"

“The fire spirit,” he said softly.  “Polaris. We made a contract. And well.. You can see the result of that if you look up in the sky.”

Beatrice looked at him in a mixture of disbelief, pain, and betrayal. “But. but Betty was the contractor to Subaru before. Betty protected Subaru before. Betty trusted Subaru before.”

Her voice lowered to a whisper. “Betty loved Subaru first."

The silence that ensued was deafening.

Emilia’s hand reached Beatrice’s shoulder to comfort her. The small spirit was already shaking in her anguish, her tears falling in rapid succession.

“So that’s it, in fact?" Beatrice asked emptily. “Betty wasn’t good enough, I suppose? Betty wasn’t strong enough to protect Subaru. That meant Subaru had to replace Betty with another spirit?”

“I never replaced you,” he said softly despite his exhaustion. "You were the very first contractor I had. My partner. A person I trusted more than life itself,” he said.

“Then why did Subaru leave?” The words slipped out in no more than a whisper. “Why did Subaru contract someone else instead of waiting for Betty?”

Subaru closed his eyes. The memories of Minyas crystallising him over and over, the face of hatred and distrust, Felix's glee and happiness from torturing him. The memories that he had kept suppressed were taunting him without remorse.

“Because I needed power,” he finished finally. “Power to survive when no one remembered who I was. Power to fight the Archbishops. Power to protect myself when there was no one else to do it.”

"Betty would have shielded Subaru if Betty had known, in fact!" Beatrice wept. "Betty would have done anything for Subaru, I suppose."

Reinhard and Julius, who had been keeping a safe distance away, drew closer. There was discomfort in the remaining eye of the one whose sword was at the ready.

Julius' expression was a mixture of emotions. The boy, no this was a young man who stood in place of the spoiled boy who he had beaten up in the capital - He could not recognise the person standing in front of him.

“Subaru,” he said. “We need to figure some things out. First of all, you’ve already killed two Archbishops in one day. And you’re journeying around with people we don’t even know." - His gaze swept to Shaula. He was watching her intently. "And the Witch of Envy herself appeared to protect you. These events are no small matters. These require explanation."

“Master doesn't owe anyone any explanation,” Shaula stated firmly, her grip on Subaru tightening. “Master just rescued the whole town from the Witch Cult. Master slew two Archbishops who would have harmed a multitude of people. Master should be receiving thanks, not interrogation."

"You talk about him in a very courteous manner. Almost as if—" He caught himself, a connection forming in his mind. "You addressed him as Master. Not contractor, not fellow. Master."

“Yes,” Shaula said. “Because that’s what he is. Shaula’s Master. The Great Sage.”

These words landed like a bomb in the tense silence.

Julius held perfectly still. He was in denial, he did not want to believe, he did not want to understand. The words that the Great.. no the Divine Spirit had left behind before saving the world would not leave him - “What did you just say?”

“Shaula said Master is the Great Sage,” Shaula repeated, tilting her head in confusion at his reaction. “Is that strange? Everyone should know that, shouldn’t they?”

“The Great Sage,” Julius repeated slowly, his face turning pale. “You're saying that Subaru is. but that can't be true. The Sage Shaula protects the Pleiades Watchtower. The Sage is a legendary figure from four hundred years ago."

“Shaula is Shaula,” said the scorpion woman cheerfully, as if that settled the question. “And Master is Master. Shaula has been waiting for Master at the tower for four hundred years, and now Master is back!”

Julius was taken aback to the point of literally choking on his words. “You’re. you’re saying you’re *THE* Shaula? The Great Sage of the Pleiades Watchtower?”

“Shaula is not the great Sage, silly knight!” Shaula laughed. “Shaula is Master’s apprentice! Master is the Great Sage! Shaula just guards the tower for Master! Shaula is Master’s humble apprentice, Shaula of the Pleiades Watchtower!”

Julius could no longer deny it, could not longer pretend. All of them fixated on Subaru with newfound scrutiny, trying to associate the exhausted, blood-soaked young man before them with the legendary Sage who had sealed the Witch of Envy four hundred years prior.

Rather than drawing the sword, the grip of the sword in Reinhard’s hand tightened. His entire body was tensed up, but a ripple in his fingers betrayed the tremor in him. “This is the truth?"

Subaru was eager to debunk the claim. To dismiss it all as the hallucination of Shaula. But for what end? Polaris had already left behind the bombshell of that revelation.

“It’s...complicated,” he replied wearily.

“It’s not complex at all, in fact!” Beatrice shouted abruptly, her voice laced with something akin to hysteria. “Subaru can’t be the Sage. The Sage sealed the Witch four hundred years ago. The Sage was a great man who saved the world. Unless we are supposed to believe that humans can live for four hundred years in fact?"

“Betty doesn’t understand, I suppose,” she whispered.

“Neither do I,” replied Emilia softly. And her gaze passed from Subaru to where Satella had disappeared to the crystal resting around his neck that was even then radiating a warm glow. “But I think. I think we have to talk about what happened back in the capital. About the Witch,” she said slowly.

The chill of the wind seemed to have grown despite the radiant heat of the new sun shining down. All of them tensed up, some of them taking a step back without thinking. Even the seasoned soldiers like Julius and Reinhard experienced a less-than-suppressed fear that the very mention of the Witch of Envy brought forth. All of them noticed the tightening of Julius’s grip on the hilt of his sword, the flicker of Reinhard’s glance to the crystal around his own neck.

Surrounding them all, the assembled crowd of what was left of Zesperga’s citizens and some of the shattered Witch Cultists who had been too frightened to leave seemed to be shaking in their shoes. Some of them already had taken a number of steps backward.

“The Witch appeared in the capital,” Emilia continued, her voice a little shaky despite her best efforts to remain calm. “She appeared when you were there. She tried to kill me. Even people around her died just from her presence - the darkness crushed them, smothered them. And look at her; she’s here, guarding you, as if you belong to her.”

Her violet eyes locked onto his, demanding the truth even as a glimmer of fear danced in their depths. “How are you linked to her, Subaru? Why does she protect you? Why did she claim you as her own?”

But he felt the exhaustion pulling at him, weighing down his thoughts. He should be lying. Should be dodging. Should be doing anything but stating the truth that would make all of this considerably worse.

But he was so tired of lying. So tired of hiding. So tired of deceiving.

“Because I love her,” he said.

The words ended in stunned silence.

Her face turned white. “What?”

"I love her," Subaru asserted confidently. "And she loves me. We have a contract, a contract of equals, of partners, of two people who chose each other."

The effect was immediate and visceral. A number of people in the audience literally stumbled backward in horror. A man hit the pavement on one knee to vomit. A woman grabbed her child and ran without looking back.

Julius’s sword shook in his hand. “You can’t. you can’t mean that,” he said.

“It can’t be,” Emilia whispered, but her voice was drowned out by the muttering of the crowd. “She’s the Witch of Envy. She’s a monster. She destroyed half the world. She’s-No.. You can’t love the Witch of Envy. That’s.. .that’s insane... That’s.”-

"Is it?" Subaru asked wearily. "Or is it just inconvenient for you to hear?"

Emilia recoiled as if she had been struck. But around them, the assembled crowd was in a range of states of shock. Some of the Witch Cultists had fallen to their knees in worshipful awe. Some of the others stood whispering to one another.

Beatrice was looking at Subaru as if he was a stranger in front of her. “Subaru can’t possibly mean that. Subaru can’t love the Witch. That’s. that’s incorrect, I think. That’s—the Witch is evil. The Witch destroyed everything. The Witch—”

He took a nervous breath, “I sealed her away, you see. Four hundred years ago, when I was the Sage, I sealed away the woman I loved in order to save the world. But all I have accomplished was to lock her away for four hundred years of solitude with a personality that was born from the madness of loneliness.” - And I don't even fucking remember it.

The crystal around his neck was warm with sadness and longing.

“And that was my mistake,” Subaru continued. “Four hundred years ago, I failed her. I chose the world over her. Fear and duty over love. And she’s been paying the price for all of that all these years. Alone in the darkness. With the Witch of Envy for her only companion.”

“So yes,” he continued, his voice growing even stronger despite the exhaustion that was weighing him down. “I love her. And I’m not going to make the same mistake twice. I’m not going to leave her again. I’m not going to lock her away and think that makes me some kind of hero. I’m going to fix the problem I made four hundred years ago. I’m going to give her her freedom.”

The muttering in the crowd was growing louder, more urgent. Some of the members of the Witch Cult were sobbing in rapture. “The Chosen One who will deliver our Lady."

“The Sage returned to correct his ancient transgression,” announced another.

“He loves the Witch! The Witch loves him!”

“The Lightbringer!” a voice shouted abruptly, and the cry was echoed by others. “The Lightbringer! The Lightbringer!”

Emilia was shaking her head vigorously, tears streaming down her face. “No. No, you can’t mean that. You can’t love her. You can’t free her. If the Witch of Envy gets loose, if she gets unsealed, she’ll destroy everything! The whole world will burn to the ground. Everyone will die!”

“Who knows?,” Subaru softly replied. "Maybe that’s just what everyone thinks because they’re scared to think about something else."

"AFRAID?" Emilia’s voice was wobbly, rising to the point of a scream. "Of course we have something to fear. That’s the Witch of Envy. Millions of people died in her hands".

But one thing was different. Her hands extended in a plea. "Subaru, listen to me. This isn’t you. This isn’t the person I remember. The person I knew would never. he would never risk the lives of so many for.”

“For what?” Subaru cut him off. “For love? You have a point. The Subaru you knew wouldn’t. That’s because the Subaru you knew was a dummy who always felt the need to save the world. Who always felt the need to give up everything. Who always felt that loving someone wasn’t a good enough reason to choose them over the world.”

“But I'm not that person anymore.” he laughed harshly.

“Come back with us,” Emilia pleaded. She switched to a new approach. Her voice was quivering behind every word. “Please, Subaru. Come back to the mansion. Come back home. We can figure something out together. We can help you. Whatever the Witch has done to you. Whatever hold she has over you. We can break it. Please. Come home,” she begged.

Home.

The word hung in the air, and something in Subaru's chest twisted painfully. For a moment, he could almost see it, the mansion in Roswaal's territory, Rem's empty room, the library where he and Beatrice used to sit together, the gardens where he'd walked with Emilia.

But that wasn’t his home. It never had been.

“No,” he merely said.

Emilia’s face scrunched up

“It’s not my home, Emilia,” Subaru followed up, his voice growing harder. “It never was. It was just a place I stayed while trying to figure out a way to live in the world. A place I kept coming back to since I did not know where else to go to."

“It’s not true!” protested Emilia. “You had friends there. People who cared for you. People to whom you cared. To whom you—”

“You want me to go home?” Subaru asked, a touch of mocking in his voice. “Which home? The only home for me would be back in Japan, in a place where the people who gave birth to me recognize me. They recognize me because I’m their son,” he said.

“You have a home here!” Emilia threw herself forward. “You have people who love you here! I—” Her words shortened to sobs as her tears poured forth. “I love you, Subaru. I remember all of that. All the times you protected me. All of the moments we’ve shared. I love you. Please come back to me,” she begged.

For a moment, Subaru was silent. He simply looked at her. At the desperation in her eyes. At the tears falling down her face. At how she was keeping herself together by sheer will.

And something in him snapped.

“Do you?” he asked softly. “Do you love me, Emilia? Or the idea of me? The selfless hero who would do anything for you, who would die for you? The idiot who would keep throwing himself into the fray just to see you smile?”

“That's not fair Subaru. I have.. I have never asked you to do that.” Emilia whispered.

“Isn’t it?” Subaru’s voice hardened. “Tell me, Emilia.if I returned with you in the present, what would you want me to do? Would you want me to keep being the hero? Keeping on sacrificing myself for the sake of everyone else? Keeping on putting your needs before mine, before the needs of everyone else?”

“I would never ask you to—” started Emilia.

“You wouldn’t have to ask!” Subaru’s voice was raised in exasperation. “That’s the problem. They would just assume. They would all assume. ‘Oh, Subaru will take care of this. He’ll fix that. He will make everything all right.’ That’s what I am to you, isn’t it?  A convenient hero to rely on to fix all their problems?”

“NO!” Emilia was crying. “That’s not—I never thought of you in that way. I never wanted you to suffer.”

“Then why did you let me?” This was asked in a cold, accusatory fashion. “All of the times I threw myself into the fray, all of the times I returned to you battered and worn down—you watched, Emilia. You knew something was off. But you never questioned me about it. You never tell me to stop. Instead, you simply let me continue to be the one who saves you no matter what the cost to me may be?”

“I didn’t know,” Emilia protested. “I didn’t realize what was going on. If I had known,I would have—”

“You would have what?” Subaru aggressively interrupted. “Stopped me? Made me choose myself over you? Oh no, of course not. That would never happen. But the truth? As soon as I CHOSE myself - which was when I made a contract with Satella instead of prioritising the needs of everyone else but me - you told me I was wrong. Told me that was the Witch’s influence. Now you want me to go back to being the selfless hero?”

He took a tremulous breath, and when he spoke again, he was quieter but no less biting. “You don't love me, Emilia. You love what I did for you. You love the safety and the security of having someone who would die for you without question. And now that I'm no longer that person for you, no longer willing to be that person for you but have instead chosen someone else, chosen myself,” he continued. “You can't handle that."

“That’s not true,” Emilia sobbed. “That’s not—please, Subaru, you’re not thinking clearly. The Witch has done something to you, made you think these terrible things—”

“There it is again,” said Subaru, a slight bitterness in his laughter. “The Witch always takes the fall. Instead of me being the one to make my own decisions. To follow my own wants instead of doing what everyone else needs me to do,” he said.

He straightened even when he was exhausted. Even when Shaula was holding his arm to keep him up. And he met her gaze. “Listen. I’m not going back with you. I’m not going to be your hero. I’m not going to keep suffering for this world. I have my own plans. My own journey. And that journey doesn’t involve you."

But the words struck Emilia like blows. In fact, she stumbled backward, her own hand reaching up to her chest in a reflexive attempt to hold herself together. Her breathing was coming in short gasps.

“You rescued me from my own despair,” she whispered urgently, clutching at anything that might reach him. “You fought for me when the whole world was calling me a witch. You helped me, loved me and fought with and for me Subaru.. Please.."

“I was a fool,” Subaru interrupted her, the coldness in his voice making him hardly recognizable. “It meant that I was pathetic enough to want to be a hero to the point of risking my own life for a girl I hardly even knew. That I was idiotic enough to believe that pain for you would give me some meaning.”

He noticed the point where the words broke something in Emilia. Her face sagged, her eyes empty of all expression but pain.

“But I am important to Satella,” Subaru presses on. “I am important to her not for what I can give to her. Nor for what I will sacrifice for her. But for the simple reason that I am me. That she loves me for who I am, not for what I am willing to offer in sacrifice. Which one of you did that for?”

“Stop,” Beatrice said abruptly. “Stop it, to tell the truth. Subaru is being cruel, I presume. Subaru is saying things that Subaru doesn’t mean merely to wound Emilia,” she stated.

'Am I?' Subaru questioned, looking at the small spirit. 'Or am I simply being truthful about how I feel? About how tired I am of being everyone’s useful toolbox? About how painful it was to be forgotten when I clearly meant nothing to anyone at all?'

Beatrice was crying. Her small hands were balled into fists. "Betty knows that Subaru is injured. Betty knows that Subaru is angry about being forgotten, in fact. But this isn't how Subaru truly feels. The Witch has affected Subaru in some way. The contract between her and the Witch has altered Subaru."

"The contract with Satella saved me," Subaru stated bluntly.

He glanced back at Emilia, who was standing there looking like she'd been broken apart from the inside out. “I won’t be coming back with you. I won’t be your knight. I won’t continue to keep putting myself in the way for people who call me a friend but would twist in a knife in my back. I’ll become strong enough to fully break the seal of Satella. And then I’ll figure a way back to where I belong. With the people who truly know me."

“Please,” Emilia whispered, the word more of a breath than a spoken statement. “Please don’t do this. Please don’t leave this way. Please—I can’t lose you. Not this way. Not after I’ve gotten you back,” she pleaded.

His expression hardened. “Go away Emilia. You are not welcome here.”

Emilia stumbled to her knees, a sob ripping from her chest. Beatrice hurried to her side, embracing the crying girl in her small arms, but her own gaze stayed fixed on Subaru. Her eyes held a mixture of confusion, pain, and the realization that the person standing before her was not the same Subaru she had known.

“It’s the doing of the Witch herself,” Beatrice stated determinedly. “Betty must know that. The true Subaru would never speak the likes of these words. The true Subaru would never treat half-elf in such a manner."

"Look at me," Emilia said. "Look at me. I'm crying. Look at me." Her eyes met his over her tears. "I don't believe you. I don't believe any of this. You love the Witch? You're the Sage returned? You want to destroy the world? All of it makes no sense. All of it isn't you."

“Then who am I?" Subaru asked. “Who do you think I am, Emilia? Tell me. What do you know about your knight? What do you know about who I am?"

Since Emilia wasn’t answering, couldn’t answer because of her sobbing, Subaru turned around to leave. “I’m finished. Shaula, let’s go".

“Wait!” Emilia’s voice broke into a desperation. “Wait, please. Reinhard!” Her gaze appealed to the Sword Saint. “Please, you have to stop him. He isn’t himself. The Witch has, the Witch has worked her magic on him. You have to—You have to take him into custody. We can save him. We can fix him if you’ll just—"

Reinhard was pale in the face, his hand shaking in his grip of the sword. He was clearly divided in his own mind but took a step forward.. He stepped in front of Emilia, guarding Subaru.

At the same time - “You will not touch Master" - Shaula’s voice was hardly loud, but it rang in the battlefield in a manner that was absolute in its conclusiveness. Her hands started to emit the preliminary illumination of Hell’s Snipe, her many-eyed gaze locked on to Reinhard and Julius.

“Shaula will not let anyone hurt Master,” she continued. There was no trace of her playfulness about her. “Shaula has been waiting for four hundred years for Master to come back. Shaula will not lose Master again."

"Stand down," Julius ordered, his voice strong despite the fear laced in his eye. "I don't want to have to fight you. But I will if I must."

“Then you will die,” Shaula stated simply.

"Julius please, don't be rash", Reinhard gripped his arm tightly.

The crowd was slowly backing away. Fear was etched on all their faces. They had a glimpse of what Hell's Snipe was capable of doing to Roy. They knew the abilities of Shaula.

“We can’t let him go. Especially when he declared he would unseal the Witch. The whole world will be in danger,” said Julius, unsheathing his sword to position himself by the side of Reinhard.

“The Light-

The scream erupted from the group of Witch Cultists who had stayed behind. They charged forward in a sudden movement, their faces ecstatic and insane, putting themselves between the knights and Subaru.

“You will not touch the Witch’s Beloved!“

“The Chosen One who will free our Lady!”

“The Light-bringer must fulfil his holy mission!”

More people joined in, not only cultists but some members of the town itself—the ones that he had protected, the ones who had witnessed him kill the Archbishops and give them a new sun.

“He saved us!”

“He gave us the sun!”

“Whatever else he is, he’s a hero,”

The crowd thickened into a sort of human shield between the knights and Subaru. Some of them were injured. Some of them seemed to hardly be able to remain on their feet. But they kept coming.

Julius face turned even paler. He was no warrior to kill unarmed civilians. They may be acting foolishly; they may be shielding a dangerous person. But he just could not bring himself to kill them.

“Please,” he urged. “Please step aside. You don’t realize what the stakes are in a place like this.”

“THE LIGHT-BRINGER!” the cultists shouted back in a frenzy of devotion. “THE LIGHT-BRINGER! THE LIGHT-BRINGER!”

Subaru watched in dismay as the chaos erupted before him. This was not supposed to occur. This was not—

At his throat was the crystal pulsing brightly, and he sensed the concern of Satella in the connection he shared with her.

“NO,” he thought frantically. “If you show up now, if they see you again, there’ll be a massacre.

Her presence lessened somewhat.

“Let him go,” a voice said softly.

Every head turned to look at Emilia. She was still kneeling there, tears streaming down her face, but her expression was empty. All the emotions had been sucked out of her, leaving a shell.

“Let him go,” she repeated, her voice devoid of emotion. “He’s made his mind up. He’s chosen her over us. Over me. There’s nothing we can do about that,” she said.

“Emilia-sama,”-

“But he doesn’t want to be saved,” Emilia went on. Every word seemed to cost her something. “And he doesn’t think he needs to be. He thinks. he thinks we’re the ones who are wrong. That we’re the ones who don’t understand.”

Her eyes locked on Subaru, but they held no expression. "Perhaps he is correct. Perhaps I never truly knew him. Perhaps the person that I loved was never real in the first place."

New tears streamed down her face, but her voice was devoid of emotion. "Then let him go. Let him walk away".

With the support of Beatrice, she was able to stand up. Catching the eye of Julius she pleaded. “Please. Don’t make things worse than they already are."

Julius seemed to be in great distress, but gradually, grudgingly, he backed away. His grip on his sword loosened, but his whole body stayed tense. "This isn’t over," he whispered. "The capital has to know about all of this. About all of this."

“I know,” said Emilia hollowly.

Subaru had the sense that he ought to speak up. Apologize for something, or explain something, or—

But what was there to say? He'd meant every word. Maybe he hadn't meant to say them in that way. Maybe he'd been too harsh. But the truth remained the same. He was not going back. He was not going to be their hero.

He turned away, supported by the arm of Shaula, and walked. People made way for him, reaching to touch his clothing, his hands. They prayed for him.

“The Lightbringer,” they whispered

“The Witch's Beloved".

While the town of Zesperga had crowned their new King and messiah, Roswaal L. Mathers had in the meantime sliced his own neck off in the pain and fury of the realisation that the path laid out for four centuries was finally and truly dead.

And hours later as Natsuki Rigel held the fraying corpse of Prisca Benedict, he desperately looked up at the stars for guidance, only to find them mocking him with silence.

Chapter Text

The castle of Zesperga stood where ruins had been weeks before.

Marble walls rose from the earth, so pure they almost glowed. Veins of pale gold and rose threaded through the white stone. The blocks fit together without mortar, each one flush against the next.

The main hallway stretched thirty paces wide. Its vaulted ceiling arced so high you had to strain to see where it ended in shadow. Pale marble columns lined the length, carved with patterns of flames and flowing water.

The light changed everything.

Polaris hung beyond the castle walls. Her radiance poured through tall, narrow windows with palpable intensity. 

The windows stood three times a tall man's height. Ancient dark wood framed them, inlaid with silver filigree. Hundreds of individual glass panes made up each window, each one a different thickness. Light fractured through them into countless variations of color and intensity.

Where Polaris's light hit the marble floor, it created pools of brightness so intense they looked solid. Gold veins in the marble caught and held the light, glowing with inner fire. The floor seemed to pulse with gentle warmth. Shadows fell soft at the column bases, graduating from light to dark without harsh edges.

Tapestries hung between the windows, woven from silk and gold thread. Each one told part of the story. The black-haired sage's arrival. Battles against impossible odds. The small spirit of flame making her sacrifice. When Polaris's light touched them, the figures seemed to move and breathe.

Alcoves carved into the walls held relics. A charred timber from the old town. A salvaged child's toy. A broken knight's sword. Each one lit by its own shaft of Polaris's light, displayed with reverence.

At the hallway's heart, where Polaris's light fell most directly, stood a massive circular table. Carved from a single enormous oak cross-section, its polished surface reflected golden light like still water. Silver and copper inlays depicted territories, rivers, mountains. A functional map and a work of art in one.

The assembled council sat around it, faces lit by warm window-glow. Papers and ledgers covered the surface, weighted down by smooth river stones. Ink bottles and quills rested at each seat. They'd been discussing for hours.

A gray-haired man with weathered hands traced a silver inlay southward, following a river's path. He had spent a lifetime managing resources and was also a local expert on trade routes. He hadn't been chosen as a member of the council by accident.

He glanced at his fellow council members, then back at the map. His voice carried clearly through the hallway's acoustics.

"I still think we should expand our control north of Virga mountains. There are a lot of fertile lands we can acquire that would free us from the dependency on simple things such as wheat supply."

Multiple sighs spread throughout the massive hallway. If you could have witnessed the expressions of the present council members it could only have been described as tired and exasperated.

"Will you ever drop this topic Alexis? We had barely rebuilt the town and you were already advising us to go and conquer land. Land, that I remind you for how many times at this point? I have even lost count. The land that does not belong to us. Perhaps you are eager to fight Odglass on this?"

The frustration was voiced out by Zeneb, the newly appointed steward, whose predecessor had unfortunately suffered a nasty fall and was permanently out of service after that accident. It had been a painful realization for the council. The lack of skilled water magic users. If only someone had some kind of magical or any source of power that could have stepped in for such a demanding and important job.

"I don't fully agree with Alexis, but I think as a council and as someone who represents the will of the very people and their labor upon which this castle and town have been built, we should at least consider seriously what Alexis is proposing." The woman who had voiced this opinion was of blonde hair, with gray streaks already signifying her advancing age, but her hazel eyes sparkled with knowledge and wisdom.

"Of course, you of all people would support a course of action leading us to unnecessary war and bloodshed Witch Cul—"

"Enough!"

The voice that cut through like a striking echo through the hallway was exhausted yet powerful and commanding. Hazel eyes zeroed on every member of the council mixed with disappointment and wariness in equal measure. "As you said Miranda, all of you here are chosen by the people to represent their will and hope for the better future and I expect more than childish bickering from you."

Everyone swallowed loudly and looked away from their king in shame. "This name calling, personal attacks and attempts to sabotage each other is not something that I will be tolerating for any longer. Either grow up, or you are permanently dismissed from the council. And when your district asks you why their chosen representative is barred from future council meetings, please do go ahead and explain to them that the king has disallowed them from council because they cannot act like grown adults."

The king's tone was soft but the voice still carried like a booming echo throughout the castle. The words of admonishment only drew the knife harder. Most of the seven members of the Pleiades Council were elderly people with great experience and knowledge in economics, war, trade, agriculture, masonry and construction.

Suffice to say more mature and diligent behavior would be natural expectation from that.

"Let me discuss the topic of the so-called Witch Cult one last time with you Tyrol. I do not in any way forgive and neither do I ask you to forget their actions but they have been on their best behavior and I have personally visited most districts many times already to assess their conduct. And guess how many complaints I have from people?"

"My lord? When did you-"

"Zero," intoned the king softly. "There have been zero complaints from the very same people who have suffered under the Cult Tyrol. And I have already taken personal responsibility for the conduct of each previous member of the said cult. Their thoughts are my thoughts, their words are spoken only if I will it so, their actions represent my own will and nothing more. And if any of them dare defy me, they will have need to fear repercussion from me directly."

"Do you know why is that so Miranda?"

"Because our king is our lord and apostle, and what the apostle commands, we do not question. We follow without hesitation!" Miranda's voice grew louder, her hands gripping the edge of the table. "Without pride telling us our judgment is superior to his! Without sloth letting us shirk the duties he has entrusted to us!"

Her eyes blazed now, words tumbling faster. "Without wrath poisoning our hearts against those he chooses to forgive! Without envy making us resent the paths he lays before others instead of celebrating them!"

She leaned forward, nearly shouting, her face flushed with fervor. "Without greed demanding recognition for every service we render! Without gluttony gorging ourselves on his favor until we forget those who also need it!"

Miranda slammed her palm on the table, voice reaching a fever pitch. "And without lust. Lust for power, for control, for anything beyond what he has given us. Corrupting the purity of our service! This is what it means to serve! This is what it means to follow!"

The council including the king and Shaula were looking at Miranda speechless, while she herself looked proud and ready to stab herself on the spot if her apostle and lord demanded so.

The king coughed to hide his awkwardness. "Their uuh… zealousness is still work in progress. The cult has brainwashed most of their minds from the very childhood so most of them are quite…"

"Enthusiastic?" Shaula intervened, her multicolored eyes sparkling with mischief.

"Y-yes, enthusiastic in their will to serve and atone for their mistakes."

Naturally, nobody from the council believed the king's words even for a second, but the results were quite promising. If a town like Zesperga could get along with the Witch Cult cordially enough to not start another "St. Bartholomew's Day massacre," then perhaps there was a chance for true co-existence down the line?

"Your majesty-"

"Alexis, I swear, I will hang you by your balls one day if you continue calling me that."

Light snickers passed through the hallway, defusing the previous awkward and tense atmosphere.

"I am afraid that my balls aren't up to their performance in their old age. You won't have much to hang me with-"

"Don't say it!"

"-Your grace," Alexis finished with a barely hidden smirk. Nobody was trying to really hide their laughter anymore.

"Should I also call master your grace?" Shaula intervened with even more mischievousness than before.

"Not you too Shaula! Uuh… Fine bully your king, all of you deserve execution for such treason."

Even Subaru could not help but smile at the jokes even if it was on his expense. This is why he signed up for when he took the mantle of the king of Zesperga. He wanted to rebuild, share happiness and live with these people, even if temporarily. Not accuse and point fingers in distrust and animosity.

"Speaking of your kingly duties my lord," Miranda's smile grew, "Have you considered who you are going to marry now? Will you perhaps take the Scorpion girl as your Queen? I myself would happily volunteer for such duty."

Immediately protests rang out from the councilors. The very thought that a former Witch Cultist would become the Queen of Zesperga was preposterous.

"Or do you perhaps have someone else in mind?" Miranda intently focused on Subaru's neck where his crystal was pulsing slightly.

"Enough! No more talks about marriage or I will actually kick you out of the council." Subaru's face was burning hot.

"But master, I would happily marry you. We can do it right here if you want!" Shaula was jumping in excitement, looking very intently at Subaru who could only whimper as crystal almost scorched his neck. Satella's annoyance at the way this discussion had gone was very much apparent to Subaru.

"Enough teasing Shaula! We have important things to discuss. Alexis, about the wheat supply. Please give me general assessment of our situation. How are our food stocks, have we managed to establish trade routes with Kararagi? Any news from Kingdom of Gusteko? If there is anything important that you or the council knows please discuss. We cannot postpone this any longer."

The mood immediately grew somber and even Polaris' light dimmed as it hid behind the gathering rain clouds.

Alexis cleared his throat and straightened his papers. "My lord, our food stocks are adequate for now. The harvest before the calamity was better than expected. We've been rationing carefully. We have enough grain to last through winter if consumption stays at current levels."

"If." Zeneb's voice cut sharp. "That's the word that matters. Our population has grown significantly. Refugees from the surrounding territories keep arriving daily. Every week we take in another fifty mouths to feed, sometimes more."

"The refugees bring valuable skills though," Miranda said. "We're getting craftsmen who know their trade, farmers who understand the land, laborers willing to work hard. They're contributing to our growth."

"Sure, after we feed them through their first month." Zeneb wasn't backing down. "After we clothe them, house them, integrate them into our districts. The initial cost is considerable and we're burning through reserves we don't actually have."

Subaru leaned back and drummed his fingers on the armrest. "What about Kararagi? Any response to our trade proposals?"

Alexis's face darkened. "No, my lord. Not a single caravan has crossed our borders. The merchants who used to travel these routes regularly have redirected their business elsewhere. They're avoiding us completely."

"They're waiting." Tyrol had a salt-and-pepper beard and the careful posture of someone who'd seen too many battles. "Waiting to see if we collapse on our own. Why waste resources trading with a kingdom that might not exist in six months? Better to let nature take its course."

"We've been standing for three months already," Miranda said with an edge in her voice. "How long must we prove ourselves? How many more months of survival do we need before they acknowledge our legitimacy?"

"It's not about time," Helena said. She had blonde-and-gray hair and the worn hands of someone who worked the land. "It's about who leads us. Kararagi is a nation of merchants and pragmatists. They deal in certainties, things they can predict and control. And our king is…"

She stopped, uncertain how to continue without giving offense.

"A boy who claims to be the Great Sage of the Pleiades Watchtower." Subaru's voice was flat. "A boy who commands the Witch of Envy. A boy who rebuilt a town from ashes in three months using former Witch Cultists as labor. A boy whose spirit became the new sun of the world. Yes, I can see why that might make them nervous."

"My lord, I meant no disrespect," Helena said quickly.

"None taken. You're right." Subaru looked at his hands. "From their perspective, I'm a threat they'd rather not engage with at all."

"The Witch Cult connection doesn't help," Tyrol said carefully. "Even with reformed members working peacefully in our districts, even with zero complaints from the citizens, the stigma remains. Kararagi merchants hear 'Witch Cult' and think madness and danger. They remember Archbishop Capella terrorizing their mountain passes for years."

"Capella is dead," Miranda said, her voice cold. "Killed by our king alongside the rest of the archbishops. This organization is done and dusted. That should count for something."

"It does count," Alexis said. "It counts as proof that our king is powerful and dangerous, which brings us back to the problem. Merchants don't trade with dangerous unknowns. They don't want partners who will…suddenly manifest the Witch of Envy and destroy half a city." - Alexis looked apologetically at Subaru.

Subaru rubbed his temples. Three months of this. Three months of trying to establish legitimacy. And the world beyond their borders still treated them like a temporary aberration, something to be ignored until it inevitably collapsed.

"So we're in a deadlock," he said. "We need trade to survive long-term, but we can't get trade because they don't believe we'll survive, or even worse, they don't want us to survive in the first place."

Alexis spread a larger map across the table. His weathered fingers traced the silver inlay depicting rivers and territories. "There is another option that our spies have presented us with".

He tapped a city north of their position. "Azamiki."

Zeneb's face went pale. "Absolutely not."

"Hear me out," Alexis said. "Azamiki is technically Kararagi territory, yes. But the situation there has changed dramatically in the past month. Word of what happened here has spread. Word of Polaris becoming the new sun. Word of our king's role in saving the world from freezing to death. And the people of Azamiki are responding."

"Responding how?" Subaru asked.

"They're worshipping Polaris," Miranda said, her eyes gleaming. "Shrines have been erected in the city. Prayers are offered daily. And by extension, they're worshipping you, my lord. The Great Sage who contracted with Polaris. The one who made her sacrifice possible. And Azamiki is not the only town, Lugunica's Dragon Chuch is already battling with the Church of the New Sun that has been established in  Flanders."

Subaru did not need to think deeply as to why. Flanders was the original town where apparently he, Reid and Volcanica met to create a covenant to seal Satella. It was also rather close to Augria Sand Dunes and would hold a very symbolic meaning for its people.

"That's religious fervor that doesn't give us much" Zeneb said sharply. "Azamiki is still under Kararagi's administration. They pay taxes to Kararagi. They follow Kararagi's laws. The merchant council there answers to the guilds in Banan."

"Not anymore," Alexis said. "Or rather, not for much longer. The city council in Azamiki is in complete uproar. Half the representatives are demanding unification with Zesperga. They want to join us formally. They're arguing that following the Great Sage is more important than following distant merchant guilds who did nothing to save them during the calamity. As far they see, while the Witch Cult ravaged the trade routes and nobody was there to help the town, our king has eliminated the cult fully and has established a prospering kingdom right next to their doorsteps".

Subaru's eyes widened. "They want to defect?"

"Why woudn't they?. - Miranda asked rhetorically. "Zesperga is where our Divine Spirit ascended. Where the miracle happened. Where the Great Sage resides. To them, joining us is a natural conclusion."

"And the other half of their council?" Tyrol asked.

"They also want to join but they are terrified," Alexis said bluntly. "Terrified of what Kararagi will do if they actually go through with it. Kararagi doesn't take kindly to cities declaring independence. There are historical precedents, none of them good. Economic sanctions at minimum. Military intervention if they feel the threat is serious enough."

"So we have a city that wants to join us but is too afraid to actually do it," Subaru said.

"Exactly," Alexis confirmed. "Which brings us to the question. Do we help them? Do we formally invite Azamiki to join Zesperga and promise to defend them if Kararagi responds? Or do we stay out of it and let Kararagi crush this movement before it spreads further?"

"It's not our fight," Zeneb said firmly. "Azamiki is Kararagi's problem. If we interfere, we're declaring ourselves an enemy of Kararagi. That means no trade, no diplomacy, no chance of peaceful coexistence. We'd be choosing war."

"We'd be choosing to protect people who worship our king and our principles," Miranda countered. "People who see the truth of what we've built here and want to be part of it. How can we turn our backs on them? And what trade and cooperation are you talking about Zeneb? Isn't this whole discussion exactly because we have no such thing present yet?"

"Taking them in means we'll all starve!" Zeneb's voice rose. "Even if we successfully annex Azamiki without military conflict, which is a huge if, we'd be adding another city's worth of mouths to feed. Our food situation is already critical. We'd collapse within months."

"Unless," Alexis said slowly, moving his finger south on the map. "Unless we also secure additional farmland."

He tapped the green fields south of Azamiki, deep into Kararagi territory. "These river valleys. Some of the most fertile land in the region. Mostly used for wheat and vegetable production. If we controlled this territory, we could feed Azamiki plus our own growing population with room to spare."

The council exploded.

"You want us to invade Kararagi!" Zeneb was shouting now. "Not just accept a defecting city, but actually march into their heartland and seize their farmland!"

"I want us to survive," Alexis shot back. "I want us to not starve. And I want us to protect people who are calling out for our help. Those farmlands are the key to all of it."

"Those farmlands are defended," Tyrol said, his military mind already calculating. "Not heavily, mind you. Kararagi isn't expecting an invasion from the north. But there are garrisons, local militias, probably some hired mercenaries. We'd be facing resistance."

"Resistance we could overcome," Miranda said. "With our king's power, with the former Cultists who've been training as soldiers, with Shaula's support. We could take that territory."

"Taking it isn't the same as holding it," Tyrol warned. "Even if we win the initial battles, Kararagi will respond. They'll send larger forces. They'll blockade us. They'll turn every neighboring nation against us as a warning about what happens to expansionist upstarts."

"Or they'll recognize that we're a legitimate power that can't be ignored anymore," Alexis said. "Right now we're a curiosity, an anomaly they're waiting to collapse. But if we control Azamiki plus those southern farmlands? If we demonstrate that we can project power beyond our immediate borders? They'll have to take us seriously. They'll have to negotiate with us as equals."

Helena had been quiet through most of the argument. Now she spoke up, her voice measured. "There's another consideration. The refugees. If we go to war with Kararagi, even a limited war over territory, the refugees will stop coming. They flee here because we're stable and safe, because we're not fighting anyone. War changes that calculation completely. Our king's presence and reputation as Natsuki Subaru is greatly known throughout the world. This also drives many people to come here."

"But if we successfully annex Azamiki and secure those farmlands, we won't need as many refugees," Alexis pointed out. "We'll have the population and resources to be self-sufficient. We can grow at our own pace instead of desperately hoping enough people show up to keep our economy functioning."

"That's assuming we win," Zeneb said. "Assuming Kararagi doesn't crush us. Assuming we can actually hold territory that far from our capital. Assuming our supply lines hold. Assuming our soldiers don't break under pressure from professional mercenaries. There are a lot of assumptions in your plan, Alexis."

"There are a lot of assumptions in doing nothing too," Alexis replied. "Like assuming Kararagi will eventually open trade with us. Like assuming we can find enough food to survive the winter. Like assuming the refugees will keep coming indefinitely. Your plan has just as many risks as mine."

Subaru listened to them argue, his eyes tracing the map. Azamiki to the south, already half-converted to worshipping Polaris and himself. A city that wanted to join them but was paralyzed by fear of Kararagi's response. And south of that, green fertile valleys that could solve their food crisis permanently.

Two problems. One potential solution. And the cost would be war with the largest merchant confederation in the world.

"What's the population of Azamiki?" he asked suddenly.

"About eight thousand," Helena said. "Mostly merchants, craftsmen, and support workers for the trade routes that pass through. It's a significant city, not a minor outpost."

"And the farmlands to the south? How many people work those fields?"

"Hard to say exactly," Alexis said. "The labor is seasonal and migrant. Probably two to three thousand during harvest time. Much fewer during planting season. Most of the actual landowners live in Banan or other larger cities. The fields are worked by hired hands."

"So we'd be displacing thousands of workers," Subaru said quietly.

"We'd be employing them under better conditions," Miranda said quickly. "The pay for farmworkers in Kararagi is terrible. Most of them are slaves. We could offer them citizenship, fair wages, protection and most importantly freedom. Most would probably stay if we treated them well."

"Some would see us as invaders no matter how good our intentions."

"That's true of any territorial expansion," Alexis said. "There's always cost."

Subaru stood up and walked to the window. Rain was falling heavier now, Polaris's light diffused and softened by the storm. He watched water run down the glass and thought about Azamiki. Eight thousand people who wanted to join them. Who saw him as some kind of savior figure because he'd contracted with the spirit who became their sun.

He thought about those southern farmlands. Fertile valleys that could feed tens of thousands. That could make Zesperga truly independent, truly self-sufficient. Zesperga already had abundance of natural resources due to its close proximity to the rich Jimuna Volcano deposits. The only issue was dependency on food. Something he could solve in a small war.

And he thought about the cost. War with Kararagi. Refugees stopping their migration. Soldiers dying in battles over wheat fields. The world seeing him not as a builder but as a conqueror.

"Tyrol," he said, still looking out the window. "Military assessment. If we move to annex Azamiki and the southern farmlands, what are we looking at?"

Tyrol straightened. "Azamiki itself would be completely bloodless if we time it right. Move in with a show of force when the council is voting on unification. Make it clear we're there to protect them, not conquer them. The population would welcome us. The minority who oppose it would probably flee rather than fight."

"And the farmlands?"

"That's trickier. We'd need to secure multiple valley regions simultaneously. If we take them piecemeal, Kararagi has time to reinforce and dig in. But if we strike fast and hard, we could control the entire territory before they mount an effective response." Tyrol paused. "The key here is element of surprise. They don't expect a war from their northern front. The council is still barely holding on, trying to unite the cities back into proper federation."

"And expected losses?"

"Depends on how much resistance we face. If the garrisons surrender peacefully, minimal. If they fight, could be several hundred. Plus whatever civilian casualties occur in the chaos." Tyrol's expression was grim. "War is never clean, my lord. Even quick, decisive war."

"And after we take the land, they can't let this stand."- Subaru continued - "Best case, they impose economic sanctions. Worst case, they mobilize for a major military campaign to retake their territory and punish us for the aggression. We'd be looking at defending against potentially tens of thousands of trained soldiers or more."

"Could we hold?"

"With your power and the Witch's support? Yes, probably. But the cost would be enormous. The destruction would set back everything we've built. And the political cost would make us permanent pariahs in the international community."

"There's one other factor to consider," Miranda said quietly. "The Witch Cultists still operating in other regions. If we're at war with Kararagi, some of them might see it as an opportunity. They might attack Kararagi's other holdings, trying to help us. And then we're responsible for Witch Cult attacks again, even if we're not ordering them."

"I can prevent that," Miranda said quickly. "I can send word through old channels that any Cultist action not explicitly ordered by our apostle will be punished. They won't dare disobey".

Subaru turned back to face the council. "Helena, the refugees. If we go to war, you really think they'll stop coming?"

Helena nodded slowly. "Many will. Not all, but many. Word will spread that we're fighting Kararagi. People fleeing violence don't run toward more violence. They'll go to Gusteko, or try to make it to Lugunica. Anywhere but here."

"And our current population? How will they react?"

"Mixed," Helena admitted. "Some will support it, especially if we frame it as protecting fellow believers in Polaris. Some will be terrified, worried we're biting off more than we can chew. Most some won't care as long as they're fed and safe."

Subaru looked at each council member in turn. Alexis, eager and certain this was the right move. Zeneb, terrified and convinced it would destroy them. Helena, worried but pragmatic. Tyrol, professionally calculating the military reality. Miranda, zealously supportive of whatever he decided.

"I need to think," he said finally. "This isn't a decision I can make right now. I want updated intelligence on Azamiki's situation. I want detailed maps of the southern farmlands. I want contingency plans for every scenario Tyrol can imagine. And I want estimates on how long we can actually hold out without solving our food problem."

"How long do we have before Azamiki forces the issue?" he asked Alexis.

"Their council is voting in two weeks," Alexis said. "If they vote for unification and we're not there to support them, Kararagi will crack down hard. Arrests, executions of the ringleaders, military occupation. The whole movement will be crushed and we'll have lost any chance of expanding peacefully."

"Two weeks to decide if we're going to war," Zeneb said quietly.

"Yes," Subaru agreed. "Two weeks to decide that."

The council sat in heavy silence. Outside, the rain continued falling. Polaris's light struggled through the storm clouds. Subaru touched the crystal at his neck and felt Satella's warmth in response.

In Azamiki, eight thousand people and slaves were praying to his contracted spirit and waiting for salvation. In the southern valleys, farmers were working fields they didn't know might soon become a battlefield.

Two weeks. Two weeks to decide the future of everything they'd built.

"Before we adjourn," Subaru said quietly, his voice carrying through the perfect acoustics of the hall. "There's something else you all need to know. Something that might change the political situation with Kararagi entirely."

The council members, who had been gathering their papers, froze. Something in Subaru's tone made them all sit back down slowly.

"My lord?" Alexis asked carefully.

Subaru turned from the window to face them. His expression was strange, caught between exhaustion and something that might have been bitter amusement. "I've been thinking about why Kararagi refuses to acknowledge us. Why they're so determined to pretend we don't exist. And I realized something. It's not just about the Witch of Envy. It's not just about the Witch Cult. It's about me specifically."

"We already discussed this," Zeneb said. "You and our spirit claim you to be the Great Sage of the Pleiades Watchtower. They think you're either a fraud or a threat."

"They think I'm a fraud," Subaru agreed. "But what if I could prove I'm not? What if I could prove that I really am Flugel, the Great Sage who built the Watchtower four hundred years ago?"

"How would you prove that?" Helena asked. "To them the Great Sage is dead. Has been for centuries. There's no way to verify your claim one way or another."

"Actually, there is," Subaru said. He walked back to the table and placed his hand on the map, directly over where Kararagi's territory was marked. "Tell me, what do you all know about the founding of Kararagi? About how the nation came to be?"

"It was founded by Hoshin of the Wilderness," Tyrol said. "A legendary figure who unified the merchant clans and established the trade routes that became the foundation of Kararagi's prosperity. This is basic history."

"Hoshin of the Wilderness," Subaru repeated slowly. "Also known as Alec Hoshin. A man who appeared seemingly from nowhere with revolutionary ideas about commerce, trade, and organization. A man who spoke with a strange accent that became the foundation of Kararagi's dialect. A man who left behind manuscripts written in a unique language that scholars in Kararagi have been studying for four hundred years."

The council stared at him.

"My lord," Alexis said slowly. "What are you saying?"

"I'm saying that Alec Hoshin was Flugel's apprentice," Subaru said flatly. "I'm saying that I took in a young man with potential and taught him everything he needed to know to build a nation. I'm saying that Kararagi exists because Flugel made it exist."

The silence that followed was absolute. Even the rain seemed to quiet.

The crystal at Subaru's neck pulsed with sudden, intense warmth. Through the connection, he felt Satella's reaction - Recogntion and understanding.

She remembered Hoshin. She remembered Flugel teaching him. She remembered all of it.

And Subaru remembered… nothing. Not the man's face. Not their conversations. Not the lessons or the journey or any of it.

But the knowledge remained. He knew the Kansai dialect. He knew Japanese. He knew things about commerce and organization that shouldn't exist in this world. The skills and understanding were still there, embedded in him like muscle memory. He just couldn't remember learning them or teaching them to anyone else.

Through the crystal, Satella pulsed with sad understanding. She knew. She understood that he was claiming a past he couldn't remember, relying on knowledge divorced from its context.

But it was true. All of it was true. Hoshin had been Flugel's apprentice. Subaru just had to trust that the knowledge he possessed was proof enough, even without the memories to back it up.

Miranda was the first to find her voice. "The Kararagi dialect. It's based on…"

"The Kansai dialect from my homeland," Subaru confirmed, keeping his voice steady. "The place I came from before I arrived in this world. Hoshin learned it from me. He thought it sounded more casual, more approachable for merchants. Better for building trust and rapport. So when he founded Kararagi, he unintentionally made it the official way of speaking."

Through the crystal, Satella pulsed warmth. Confirmation. That was exactly what happened.

The words came easily because they were true, even if Subaru couldn't picture Hoshin's face or remember the sound of his voice. The knowledge was there. Hoshin had traveled with Flugel's group. Had learned from them. Had built a nation using those lessons.

"And the manuscripts," Helena breathed. "The ones their scholars study…"

"Japanese," Subaru said. "My native language. I taught Hoshin how to read and write it. Hoshin used it for record-keeping, for important documents. Over four hundred years, some of the knowledge has been lost, but they still have enough to recognize the script when they see it."

Another pulse of warmth from Satella.

Alexis leaned back in his chair, his mind clearly racing. "If this is true. If you can prove this. Then Kararagi isn't just ignoring a new kingdom. They're ignoring the master of their founder. The man who made their entire civilization possible."

"Exactly," Subaru said. "And that's a problem for them. Because how do you maintain legitimacy as a nation if you're actively opposing the person who taught your founder everything he knew? How do you claim to honor Hoshin's legacy while refusing to acknowledge his master?"

"They'll say you're lying," Zeneb said, but his voice was uncertain. "They'll claim it's an elaborate fraud."

"They can try," Subaru said. "But I can write in Japanese. I can speak in proper Kansai dialect."

Through the crystal, he felt Satella's presence grow stronger. She was there, ready to provide whatever details he needed. The memories he'd lost, she still held. Stories about Hoshin that only someone who'd been there would know.

"I can reference things about Hoshin that aren't in any historical record," Subaru continued, more confident now. "Details about his training, his personality, his goals. Things only Flugel would know."

Things Satella would tell him, because she'd been there. She remembered everything Flugel had forgotten.

"This is…" Tyrol shook his head. "This is enormous. If even half the population of Kararagi believes you, it could tear the nation apart. Some would want to acknowledge you immediately. Others would see it as a threat to their independence."

"Which brings me to my next point," Subaru said, looking at Miranda. "This information needs to spread. Not officially from us, but through other channels. Rumors. Whispers. Stories about the Great Sage and his relationship to Hoshin. Let the people of Kararagi hear it and draw their own conclusions."

Miranda's eyes gleamed with understanding. "You want me to use the old Witch Cult networks."

"I want you to use whatever networks you have access to," Subaru corrected. "Former Cultists, traveling merchants, refugees who've passed through here and are moving on to Kararagi. Plant the seeds of the story. Let it grow organically. By the time Kararagi's leadership tries to suppress it, it'll be too late. Too many people will have heard it."

"You're destabilizing them from within. Making them question their own legitimacy. Making them second-guess whether opposing you is the right move." - Alexi's voice had approval and realization that he had not been wrong to pledge to Natsuki Subaru.

"I'm giving them a reason to negotiate," Subaru said. "Right now, they see us as irrelevant or dangerous. But if they start to believe that I really am Flugel, that Flugel really did teach their founder, then suddenly we're not just some upstart kingdom.

"Which is why the message needs to be carefully crafted," Subaru said. "I wasn't trying to rule Kararagi. I wasn't trying to control them. I simply helped a talented young man build something great. I'm acknowledging that historical connection and suggesting that maybe, just maybe, the founder's master and the founder's legacy should be able to coexist peacefully."

"How do we prove the connection to Hoshin?" Zeneb asked. "Beyond your ability to speak and write in his language?"

Subaru felt Satella's warmth pulse through the crystal. She was ready. Ready to feed him whatever stories he needed. Whatever details would make this convincing.

"I have stories," Subaru said. "Personal anecdotes about Flugel teaching him. About his struggles and triumphs. About the advice Flugel gave him when he was planning Kararagi's structure. Some of these stories might corroborate details in their historical records. Others might fill in gaps they've always wondered about. Hoshin introduced Japanese culture to this world. Kimonos, yukatas, food like okonomiyaki and dorayaki. All of it came from knowledge I shared with him. The more I can provide, the harder it becomes to dismiss as fraud."

"And if they still don't believe you?" Tyrol asked.

"Then we're no worse off than we are now," Subaru said with a shrug. "They're already refusing to trade with us. They're already treating us as irrelevant. But if even a fraction of Kararagi's population starts to believe, it makes it more likely for Kararagi to at least open diplomatic ties with us".

Miranda was already taking notes, her quill moving rapidly across parchment. "I'll need specific details. Names, dates, events. The more authentic the stories sound, the more convincing they'll be."

"I'll provide everything," Subaru said. Everything Satella remembered, everything his knowledge confirmed, everything that would make this claim impossible to dismiss. Through their connection, he felt her readiness to help.

"We'll start spreading the information immediately. By the time Azamiki votes on unification, the rumors should have reached at least some parts of Kararagi. It might make them more hesitant to crack down hard if they're not sure whether doing so would be seen as disrespecting Hoshin's master."

"This is brilliant," Alexis said. "Risky, but brilliant. You're fighting them on cultural and historical grounds instead of just military and economic ones."

"The timing is suspicious though," Zeneb pointed out. "Convenient that you're revealing this connection just as we're considering expansion into their territory."

"They don't know that," Subaru corrected. "They don't know we are planning any war with them. Besides I didn't mention it before because I was trying to avoid conflict. I was hoping Kararagi would eventually come around on their own. But they haven't. They're still treating us like we don't matter. So now I'm using every tool available to change their minds."

Helena nodded slowly. "It makes sense. And if it works, if it makes them more willing to negotiate, then we might be able to resolve the food crisis without war. We might be able to secure trade agreements, maybe even get them to accept Azamiki's unification peacefully in exchange for other concessions."

"That's the hope," Subaru said.

"And if it doesn't work?" Zeneb asked. "If they reject your claim and crack down on Azamiki anyway?"

Subaru's gaze hardened. "Then I can with clear conscience say that at least we'll have tried the diplomatic route first. At least we'll have given them every chance to do this peacefully."

Miranda looked up from her notes. "There's another angle to this. If word spreads that you're Hoshin's master, other nations will start questioning their own relationship with you. Lugunica already knows about your connection to the Witch. Vollachia is dealing with their undead problem. But Gusteko might be interested in establishing ties if they think you're really the Great Sage. Not to mention the fact that your very spirit is our sun currently. Whoever is left alive after the Great Silence in Gusteko will be worshipping your name."

"One step at a time," Subaru said tired and uncomfortable with that revelation. "Right now, let's focus on Kararagi. Let's get this information spreading. Let's see how they react."

"Speaking of preparation," Tyrol said. "If we're going to potentially move on Azamiki and the farmlands, I need more time to train our forces. The former Cultists are enthusiastic but they're not soldiers yet. They need discipline, tactics, proper equipment."

"You have two weeks," Subaru said. "Use them well. But Tyrol, I want to be clear about something. If we do go to war, if we do move into Kararagi's territory, civilian casualties are unacceptable. I won't have innocent people dying because of our expansion."

"My lord, in any military operation, some civilian casualties are inevitable," Tyrol said carefully. "It's a tragic reality of war."

"Then we make sure it's not war," Subaru said, his voice hard. "We make sure it's a police action. A peacekeeping operation. We move in to protect Azamiki's right to self-determination. We secure the farmlands by offering the workers there better terms than they currently have. We don't burn villages. We don't loot homes. We don't terrorize populations. We show them we're better than that."

"That's idealistic," Zeneb said quietly.

"That's necessary," Subaru corrected. "Because if we become the kind of nation that slaughters civilians to achieve our goals, then what are we even building? What's the point of all this if we're just going to repeat the same cycles of violence and oppression?"

"The Witch Cult killed civilians," Miranda said softly. "For centuries, we killed without mercy or restraint. And you're asking us to be different now. To show restraint even when it might cost us strategically."

"Yes," Subaru said, meeting her eyes. "Because you're not the Witch Cult anymore. You're citizens of Zesperga. And that means holding yourselves to a higher standard.

Miranda was quiet for a moment, then nodded. "We'll follow your orders, my lord. If you command restraint, there will be restraint. The former Cultists answer to you absolutely. Your will is our will."

"I appreciate that," Subaru said. "But I also need you all to understand something else. The Witch Cult members who are still out there, operating independently in other regions. They don't answer to you. They answer to me. Directly."

He touched the crystal at his neck, and through the connection felt Satella's power surge. She understood what he was saying. What he was claiming.

"Any Witch Cult action not explicitly ordered by me will be considered treason," Subaru continued. "Any Cultist who harms civilians or acts without authorization will answer to me personally. And when I say personally, I mean they'll answer to Satella."

The temperature in the room seemed to drop. Everyone remembered what had happened to Capella, how she'd simply been erased from existence with two words from the Witch.

"I have absolute control over the Witch Cult," Subaru said flatly. "Not because I was an Archbishop. But because Satella gives me that control. Because every Cultist who worships the Witch is ultimately worshipping her, and she listens to me. So when I give an order, it's not a suggestion. It's not a request. It's the will of the Witch of Envy channeled through her contractor."

Through the crystal, Satella pulsed with agreement.

Subaru was greatly uncomfortable to use Satella's name in such way but it had clear effect. Miranda was looking at him mystified.

"So there will be no rogue attacks," Subaru continued. "No independent initiatives. No Cultists deciding to 'help' by terrorizing Kararagi's civilians. If anyone steps out of line, they'll be eliminated. Permanently. Is that clear?"

"Crystal clear, my lord," Miranda said reverently.

"Good," Subaru said. "Because I'm not going to let people die for my actions. Especially not civilians who have nothing to do with this conflict.

At first Subaru was completely adamant to not take the title of the king of Zesperga and perhaps more naive, younger version of himself who had been idealistic and full of hope about the world would have ignored the possibility presented to him.

But he was no longer the naive boy. He had seen death and destruction, personally orchestrated it and had been victim to it more times than he could count.

He could no longer hold to childish delusion that everything would go well if he played the hero. He had much more important things to care about now. He needed to plan ahead for every possible issues - What if he never managed to escape this world? What would happen to himself and Satella in that case? Where would he find shelter and free space to exist peacefully in that scenario?

The answer was nowhere - simple as that. He would be hunted till the end of the day and the world would end with Satella and himself the main catalyst for that destruction.

So if he could, he would without hesitation take a possibility to create and carve his own kingdom, his own garden of eden for himself, Satella, Shaula and perhaps later for his family too.

"I want updated intelligence on Azamiki's situation by tonight," Subaru said. "I want detailed maps of the southern farmlands. I want contingency plans for every scenario Tyrol can imagine. And Miranda, I want you to start working with me on stories about Hoshin."

"I'll compile everything we know from historical records," Miranda said. "We can cross-reference them with your knowledge."

"Good," Subaru said. Through the crystal, he felt Satella's readiness to provide the memories he lacked. Between his knowledge and her memories, they could reconstruct enough of the truth to make it impossible to deny.

"Two weeks to decide if we're going to war," Zeneb said quietly.

"Yes," Subaru agreed. "Two weeks to decide that."

The council sat in heavy silence. Then, one by one, they began to rise, gathering their papers and preparing to execute their assigned tasks. But before they could exit the chamber, a disheveled looking guard, a boy barely eighteen years of age ran in. He looked flushed and embarassed to have disrupted the council meeting.

Subaru immediately looked at him - "What is it Killan?"

"I am sorry for interrupting the council your M-majesty, but we caught this merchant and a pink haired girl sneaking through our fifth district during the patrol. They are insisting that they know you and they want personal audience with you".

Subaru froze on the spot.

"I see…And did they perhaps mention their names?"

The guard nodded eagerly - "Yes my lord, the boy calls himself Otto, Otto Suwen."