Nameless' Code

by Emptied_Sky

Summary:

Massive Spoilers for Cold Steel I-IV.

“I will be the monster that plunges every rege of this empire into despair. My hands will be stained in blood, and my only compensation will be chilling iron. I will treat everyone, including you, like a mere pawn.” A pause. Only the clearest of minds with the sharpest of eyes could catch the minuscule softening of the man’s facial features. “Knowing that, you would still choose to join me?”

Innocent lilac eyes peered back at the imposing chancellor. A soft smile graced itself on the boy’s face, hiding ten years of accumulated guilt.

“Of course. I’ll always stay by your side. No matter what.”

...

AU/Canon-Divergence where Rean is on Osborne's side.

Chapter 1: Prologue - The Ashen Saint

For someone whose only purpose in life was to kill the chancellor, Crow rarely felt frustrated about the little things in life. He never deeply cared about losing bets, friends, or anything any sane person would hate losing. He also didn't care about annoying assholes. Things like money, friendship, and justice were all meaningless in the future he was paving for himself. 

The only thing that could truly twist his core was Osborne’s existence. At least, that should have been the only thing that could mess with his emotions.

But he was proven wrong. Apparently there was something else other than the chancellor that could cause his blood to boil. The object of his current rage stood at the park in the distance, cheering up a woman who had recently lost her parents’ farm to Osborne’s railway.

 

The Ashen Saint. 

 

This person first made a name for themselves about a year ago. A pure white mask that resembled the head of a divine dragon hid their face, and the rest of their body was covered by a white cloak. The only revealing physical features were their light skin and feathery, collarbone-length ashen hair. Rumor had it that if you saw them at a special angle at night, then you would see a gleam of ruby-colored eyes. Crow would have made a joke about their bizarre appearance if it weren’t for the serious aura that this person exuded with every breath they took.

Not wanting to gather any attention, he casually strolled to a nearby bench and leaned on its armrest. After taking a couple deep breaths and tracing the clouds with his eyes, his attention wandered back to the mysterious figure. 

At first glance, this mysterious person acted like a bracer. They always helped random people with menial tasks. Lost your cat or purse? They were ready to help. They even killed some wanted monsters with a style known as Hundred Forms Military Combat (suggesting that this person must have been part of the military before).

Crow wouldn’t normally care—heck, he admired those types of people—but he noticed that there were certain types of people that the Ashen Saint would go above and beyond to help. It wouldn’t have been obvious to Crow if those certain types of people weren't the same types of people who he was trying to recruit: The people most hurt by the hated chancellor.

Every time Crow found a victim who was despairing enough to consider joining the ILF, this Ashen Saint appeared before them first. After some pep talk and whatever, the victim would oftentimes be placated enough where they would hesitate or decline taking Crow’s offer. 

This frustrated him beyond words. Not because recruitment was slow these days, but because it kind of seemed like this Ashen Saint was trying to rack up enough good deeds to cancel out the Osborne's bad deeds. 

People had every right to hate anyone they wanted. It didn't matter if it was a stranger, some ex-lover, or the shit chancellor. People's feelings were on the other side of logic, so it didn't matter if their emotions were justified or not. Though, in Osborne's case... yeah, he could burn in hell and no one would care. His inevitable murder would surprise no one because he would only be getting what was coming to him. He deserved all the hatred of all his victims. 

Home, family, pride—anything precious was always stolen away by a bloody, iron fist. The chancellor took away everything except the feelings of sadness and anger. Crow could handle that. He was fine with holding onto these emotions as long as he could pay them back, tenfold.

And yet the Ashen Saint had the gall to take that away too. 

What could possibly be left of a person if everything, even their hatred, was taken away?

Nothing. The answer could only be nothing. 

But that didn't really matter to Crow. His personal identity never bothered him so much. He was a simple man: He would settle things for his grandfather even if it meant killing Osborne.

And, as of now, he could add another thing to his simplicity. The Ashen Saint's actions pissed him off so much that, while it was unreasonable, Crow hated the Ashen Saint almost as much as he hated Osborne. 

But. He wasn’t messed up enough to want to kill this person for doing innocent actions. 

Instead, he was going to be petty. Really petty. So petty that he was probably going to regret this in the future. 

Yep, he was going to dupe some money out of the so-called saint. 

Watching the two people part ways, Crow rose from the bench and made long, casual strides toward the Ashen Saint. His presence was noticed immediately, as the masked figure greeted him with an amicable wave.

“May I help you?” the Ashen Saint spoke in a genderless voice. Crow could easily tell that the mask had a voice modifier-since he had his own. 

“Not really,” he wore a friendly smile while he dropped a bag to the floor. “I just want to show you a little trick.”

The other nodded.

“Alrighty then. Got a 50 mira coin that I could borrow?”

The other made no movement for a couple seconds, as if debating whether or not they should comply with his wish. In the end, they seemed to give in to Crow's request. After shuffling through their cloak, the Ashen Saint pulled out a small pouch. From it, a 50 mira coin was plucked and handed to Crow. 

Deep breath.

Flick. Wait. Catch air with both hands. Deceptive question.

“Which hand is the coin in?”

Clockwork. 

If he didn’t go to Gehenna for shooting Osborne, then he was surely going to it for this. He honestly wouldn’t be surprised if he had a flashback of this moment just before his own inevitable death to remind himself of what an awful human being he was. 

“Neither. It fell in the bag, didn’t it?” the other nodded their head to the bag curiously. 

Crow’s smirk faltered. He really shouldn’t have underestimated the other, but it wasn’t often that people saw through his trick. “Sharp eye,” he winked, pulling the bag up and over his shoulder. Oh well, whether or not the Ashen Saint saw through his trick didn't matter in the long run—

“If you needed some money so badly, you could have asked.”

 

What?

 

The terrorist leader stood dumbfounded as the Ashen Saint suddenly grabbed his hand and poured more coins onto his palm. 

 

Wait—

 

“Sorry I can’t offer more, but I’m also low on funds. The least I can do is make sure we don’t starve tonight.” For some reason, Crow could visualize a shy smile behind the mask.

Damn, his stomach just growled. But that wasn’t important! He was trying to rob this person, not act as a charity! 

He was no longer interested in the Ashen Saint’s money and wanted nothing to do with all the coins in his hand. He was about to grab the other’s wrist, but they successfully evaded Crow’s movements.

“Speaking of food, I have to go get milk for that cat!” the Ashen Saint exclaimed. “I’ll be going. That change should be enough for a burger. Please enjoy yourself.”

Crow couldn't even respond to the unnecessary acts of kindness forced onto him before the other ran off in the opposite direction. 

It burned.

The bunch of coins burned annoyingly in the palm of his hand. Crow no longer felt hatred for the Ashen Saint, and was only left with a chilling sense of shame.

(Sometimes he wondered what the hell he was doing with his life.)

It was funny, in a way. This was the reason he hated the Ashen Saint, and yet he couldn't even muster any feelings of dislike toward the mysterious figure. It was hard to hate an extremely nice person for too long. He would know; he had tried to hate Towa as well as every other Erebonian, but that plan failed miserably.

Ultimately, it didn't matter why the Ashen Saint was dead set on helping every single person burned by the chancellor's ruthlessness. Their intention was clear: to help everyone move forward, relentlessly.

And Crow couldn't not respect that, despite how he would absolutely fight tooth and nail to stay stagnant until Osborne was dead.

Resigning himself as the temporary owner of the coins, he shoved the objects into his pocket. He was definitely capable of chasing after the Ashen Saint, but he figured he could just discreetly give them back the money whenever they would inevitably cross paths again. 

 

---

---

 

The Ashen Saint quietly snuck into the empty men’s public bathrooms. Upon realizing that he could sense no one in his range, he dropped a medium-sized travel bag to the floor and exhaled a sigh of relief.  

Silver locks of hair slowly faded back to their natural ebon color. The white cloak was shrugged off and placed into the travel bag, along with the draconic mask. Gone was the visage of the Ashen Saint. The person who replaced it was a seventeen-year-old boy who went by the name of Rean Schwarzer. 

From the bag rang a lone ENIGMA I unit. Immediately answering the call, Rean rested the device between his cheek and shoulder as he tied up his feathery, long hair. 

“Dad.” There was no doubt about who was on the other side of the line. After all, only one person could contact this unit.

Rich, throaty laughter sounded from the device, causing Rean to smile a little. It wasn’t often that he heard his dad genuinely laugh. Nowadays, almost every action from the man had a purpose. His laughs served to taunt his opponents. His words were crafted to intimidate his enemies, as well as to send a cryptic message that would never be unraveled. His actions were purely made to stir conflict. This man, Chancellor Giliath Osborne, was a terrifying monster to many. And yet, Rean believed that his dad was no monster at all.

Underneath all the meticulously crafted plans for railroads and annexations that mercilessly ruined the lives of anyone in the way was a man playing a dangerous game with a cursed entity called Ishmelga. 

This entity desired to become a god, which was only possible if the world was flooded with extreme amounts of conflict. By possessing the chancellor of Erebonia—one of the most powerful nations in the world—that desire could easily be achieved in the near future. 

Fortunately, the actions that would pave that future were a double-edged sword. Osborne capitalized on sharpening the edge that would cut himself. He was well aware that his actions hurt people and bred hatred and disgust. He was betting on the chance that the right people would disagree with him, stand against him, and stop him whenever the time came. 

To outside eyes, Chancellor Osborne may be a ruthless monster. In Rean’s eyes, he only saw a good guy playing the bad guy’s role for the greater good. 

“How’s the ultimate sacrifice doing?”

...Sometimes his dad played the bad guy role too well. 

But it was necessary. To make Ishmelga believe that he was under its absolute control. To make everyone else believe that he was a cold-blooded monster. Everyone's beliefs on Osborne's facade were all necessary for the plan to work.

He simply could not afford to risk showing his affection for his only son—showing that he wasn't controlled... showing that he did care.

That was fine, though. At this point, Rean was used to the distant words and could easily decipher the true meaning behind those words.

Are you okay?

“I’m okay.” It was mostly a lie and they both knew it. Bearing witness to the tragedies his dad intentionally inflicted on innocent people hurt . It hurt so much. Rean always felt like his soul was being torn in half every time a victim cried on his shoulder or flew into a rage with promised revenge (some of which were inflicted on him). If he wanted to continue on this path, it would be wise to kill his emotions and grow empty enough to accept all these horrors. 

Due to his connection to the curse, it would be so easy to flip the switch and just feel nothing.

And yet, he couldn’t. He deserved to feel everyone’s pain because he was actively working with the guy who hurt them… Also because he was the reason all this was happening in the first place.

(His dad was only in this predicament because of him...)

He shook his head. He couldn't allow himself to fall into a spiral of self-deprecating thoughts. It would only lead to him giving up. He knew that if he broke down now, no one would be able to pick him back up. 

Not himself. 

Not his dad. 

Not his foster family. 

 

No one. 

 

Unfortunately, he couldn’t afford to not be okay if he wanted to keep his promise to his dad two years ago. So, for now, he was okay. At least on the surface. That would have to suffice for now. 

“I received news from the Intelligence Division. It seems the Debaucherous Prince’s pet project has finally taken off. Class VII, it’s called,” his dad continued on. Rean could hear the shuffling of papers from the device. “You got in. Even without any tampering.”

Good job.

“Your orders are to observe this class. Nothing more, nothing less.”

Rean wore a tired smile. Oh, he would be doing a lot more than observing. They had worked out the details before, in a manner that even Ishmelga would not be able to detect. In his dad's grand plan, an opposing force strong enough to stand against him was absolutely necessary. If Prince Olivert was the only person who could bring such a force to the board, then Osborne would discreetly support him from the shadows. In this case, he would send his own son there to ensure that this project was successful. 

Perhaps it was dirty to help the enemy win, but too many things were at stake. And they were running out of time. 

Though Rean seriously doubted he would be able to provide much help for Prince Olivert’s project. 

“Of course. Love you, dad.”

There was no vocal response.

Love you too.

The call ended. 

His heart stilled at the unvoiced words. No, he shouldn’t be loved, not even by his “villainous” parent. Instead of looking for a third path- a better path like what his dad had wanted, Rean had decided to be a coward and stay by his dad’s side because— 

Subconsciously, his fingers wrapped themselves around a locket he wore around his neck. The feeling of the cold metal renewed him with energy.

Right.

This was no time to be doubting himself. At this moment, he needed to keep believing in his dad, he needed to keep believing in himself, and he needed to keep moving forward.

If he did that, then maybe he could find the happy ending to this wretched fairy tale.

Chapter 2: Beginning of a New Life

Summary:

Rean says bye to his family and starts his first day of school. Nearly everything goes wrong, but it turns out fine. Mostly. Barely.

Notes:

No one can stop me from giving Lucia a shotgun and from making the Schwarzer family overprotective. But to be fair, they have a reason in this story.

Edit: I finally fixed my paragraph spacing.

"Why do I have to get a haircut?" asked a bright-eyed, 5 year-old Rean who was running around the house as an attempt to escape his dad. The effort was all for naught as he accidentally slipped on a rug. “Ah—”

Before his face collided with the floor, his dad gently caught him and smirked. "Well, wouldn’t you like to have your hair out of your face so you can see where you’re going?"

"But you and mom have long hair! I can be like you guys!" Rean pouted in his arms. Eventually, his mom walked over to them and gently brushed his hair.

"Oh sweetheart, please don’t be like your dad. Not everyone’s stubborn enough to stay in love with a dense idiot.”

"You're never going to let that go, Kasia?" his dad sighed, yet he sounded full of adoration. 

"Of course not, Giliath." The woman innocently planted a brief kiss on her significant others’ cheek. 

"Can I be like you, mom?"

"I don’t think this family can handle another devil. Two is already enough.”

Rean crossed his arms in frustration. “If I can’t be like you or dad, then what can I be?”

He was met with two patient, affectionate smiles.

“Just be you. Follow your heart and do what you want to do. No matter what, we’ll love you all the same.”

"Okay!” He proudly raised his fist up high. “Then as Rean Osborne, I declare that I want long hair— definitely not because you two have long hair!"

---

For five days every week for the past two years, he had been living as the Ashen Saint. The feeling of donning that mask, wielding one of his dad’s old swords, and helping all the people within his reach was so great. The Ashen Saint had a clear purpose, was strong enough to protect people, and was unclouded by the past. He could be so blank, so free. It was just so right to act as the Ashen Saint. He wished that could be the identity he could assume forever. 

Unfortunately, his dad had sternly told him he could not with the reasoning that the “Ashen Saint” was not “him.” After all, the Ashen Saint was a persona crafted by Chancellor Osborne and the Curse. This persona was a perfect, willing pawn and thus could not be “him.”

That had been frustrating to hear because he clearly remembered a time when his birth parents told him he was free to do whatever he wanted and they would always support him. Well, he wanted to be someone else. Anyone else but “him.” But his dad didn’t keep his promise.

And so, for the other two days of every week, he had to be someone he simultaneously hated and did not know. He had to be a weak and lost child who still couldn’t get over his old past. He had to be the boy who ruined his adoptive family’s name and still had the gall to miss his old family when he already had a new one. He had to be Master Yun Ka-Fai’s only failed disciple. He had to be “Rean Schwarzer.”

Just his luck, as of today, he had to be “Rean Schwarzer” every day for the entire duration of his stay at Thors Military Academy. He had originally been excited about this because it was part of the plan to secretly help Prince Olivert. However, now that he had realized the true extent of what that meant for himself, he felt less confident.

"Are you sure you want to do this?" Elise asked. "You've had long hair for as long as I've known you."

"Yeah, I'm sure." He really wasn’t, but he couldn’t ignore the couple of reasons why he needed to do this. 

The first reason was that if he had to use his ogre form for whatever reason during school, then someone might point out a physical similarity between him and the Ashen Saint. He couldn’t have that. He couldn’t have the Ashen Saint’s name be tainted by “Rean.” This creation had no business being anything else, not even the human who hid behind its mask. 

The other reason was that there was no chance in Gehenna that “Rean Schwarzer,” as he was now, could succeed in this mission. He would need to change… need to be anyone else. And so he may as well start by cutting his hair and cutting ties with his adoptive— 

A harsh flick to his forehead shook him out of his thoughts.

“Ow,” Rean rubbed his forehead and frowned at Elise. 

His adoptive sister mirrored his expression. “You were thinking bad thoughts again, weren't you?”

“No.” He’d become accustomed to lying well, but it seemed his sister would no longer fall for his facade.

“Dear brother, I would like to remind you that I am the one holding the scissors here and your hair is my hostage. I would appreciate it if you did not lie to me,” Elise voiced in a cheerful tone before she continued to snip at his long strands of hair. “I understand that you have secrets you want to keep for yourself, but you don’t have to keep your emotions to yourself too.”

He could. But then she would worry more about him. He refused to let that happen.

After a brief silence, he lowered his eyes to the ground and muttered, “I’m sorry.”

“It’s okay.”

Even he knew it wasn’t okay. They have known each other for almost ten years now and yet he still could not tell her a single thing. The only reason why she knew that there was something terribly wrong with him was because he accidentally had a mental breakdown in front of her during that incident. He had shown her exactly how much he hated himself in that moment and in the following years… Aidios, she had been too young to understand that, let alone witness it firsthand. Ever since then, he noticed that she was much kinder to him and could see through his facades with no trouble. 

She was so nice. The whole family was, really. This was another reason why he couldn’t accept himself; he would never be someone deserving of their kindness and care. 

“Done!” Elise exclaimed joyfully and held a mirror in front of his face. And…

 

Wow.

 

He could not recognize himself at all. Without all the hair hiding his face and neck, he looked like a regular guy. If he felt like a piece of himself had just been lost, he pretended to be joyful about it. 

“I wouldn’t be surprised if a bunch of girls flocked over to you and proclaimed their love for you.”

Funny. 

“If any of them hurt your feelings, tell them that your sister knows how to use a rapier,” his sister playfully hummed while wearing an oddly cheerful grin.

“Thanks, Elise,” he managed to voice out, sounding a little embarrassed. Wasn’t it wrong for the younger sister to feel the need to protect the older brother? Great, another failure to add to his— 

Another gentle flick hit his forehead. He frowned at his sister who only smiled back at him.

“You’re welcome!”

---

Since they were both going to leave for their respective schools in an hour, Elise went to her room to make sure she prepared all her belongings. Rean did the same, going to his room to pack up his stuff. The process was fairly quick, considering that he only packed clothes, toiletries, his tachi, and some items from Master Yun Ka-Fai.

He stared at a separate bag that held all the items related to his other persona. He wasn’t going to bring it just in case there were dorm inspections, so he kicked it under his bed. Plus, school life might be too busy for him to have any side activities. If he happened to be called to do a mission during his time at school, he would just come back here to fetch his gear. But, for now, the Ashen Saint would be temporarily inactive. 

He then glanced over to the portrait of him with the Schwarzer family. Picking the frame with his fingers, he wondered if he should bring this too. Despite how much he missed his biological family, he couldn’t deny that he loved this family too. They have treated and cared for him like he was their real son or brother. 

Unfortunately, he knew he was an imposter as a son and a brother. It sometimes felt wrong to look at this family picture and see himself present in it, like he was actually part of the family. Wouldn’t it be wrong to bring this portrait with him and rely on the strength of their fraudulent memories together?

Somehow, he could imagine Elise mentally flicking him in the forehead for that thought. 

Truly, he had just been making up excuses for why he could not bring this item with him as if he had no choice in the matter. Ever since he had begged to work with his dad two years ago, every decision he made was either because it was necessary or because he was told to do it. 

This picture though… it wasn’t necessary at all. That fact was usually all it took to do an action. To bring this would mean he was making an independent choice— a product of his own desires . 

Nothing good could come out of that .

And yet...

 

Too many grueling minutes of pathetically debating in his head passed by. This was getting out of hand and he was running out of time. So he forced himself to stop thinking for one second. In a few swift motions, he opened his luggage, shoved the portrait in there, and slammed his luggage shut. 

There. Decision made. At least Rean Schwarzer could now be described as someone who wanted to remember his adoptive family when he was at school. 

If he was in a better mental state, he would have noticed his three family members standing at his door and smiling. A few more quiet moments passed before they made themselves known. 

“Rean!” he heard Lucia Schwarzer call out before he was suddenly engulfed in warm hugs. He immediately stiffened and did not return the hug, but his adoptive mother and sister did not mind. “Look at how handsome you are! Elise, you did a good job cutting his hair!”

Elise blushed. “Thank you.”

“You really did a good job,” Rean smiled before he looked at his adoptive father. “How was the conference?”

“Same old, same old,” Teo Schwarzer groaned in exasperation. “But you don’t need to worry about that. Ready for school?”

Suddenly, his adoptive mother let go of him and looked at him square in the eye. “Do you have enough pairs of clothes, underwear, toothbrushes—”

“Yeah,” Rean felt bad about cutting her off, but it would have been bad if she accidentally bit her tongue. “I’m ready.”

“Are you sure you don’t want to bring any fishing equipment or bear traps? Or do you want me to cut a deal with the school to build some hot springs there? I know how much you love the hot springs—” 

“I’m good, father,” Rean sighed. Truly, he loved his adoptive parents. But sometimes they could go too overboard for him.

“You guys are no fun,” his adoptive father childishly pouted like the grown man he was. “I told Elise the same thing and she said no too. You guys better not complain about the lack of hot springs when you’re stuck at school.”

“Father…” Elise face-palmed to hide her embarrassment. 

“Just you wait. When one of you takes over the barony, your mother and I will finally launch a hot springs business! Did I tell you about how I dreamed about making hot springs more accessible to the Erebonian pop—”

“Yes dear, you’ve told everyone many times,” his adoptive mother shook her head. “But perhaps it would not be such a great idea to make your dramatic retelling the last thing you say to our children before they leave?”

The man coughed, now embarrassed. “You’re right.” He turned his attention towards Rean and Elise. “Have fun at school, but don’t cause too much trouble!” He affectionately patted both their heads. “Also, if you meet anyone who even dares to break your hearts, be sure to let them know that I own a sword and that your mother owns a shotgun.”

“Haha…” Rean chuckled nervously while Elise grinned happily.

“Love you both,” his adoptive mother hugged both of them again. “Make sure to write letters!”

“Love you too!”

“Love you…”

---

The two siblings had been mostly silent for the train ride. Elise was dozing off while Rean was mulling over his thoughts about how he was going to contribute to the school and his class. He had seen the files on all his classmates and had been surprised to see that every classmate came from a different background. It was supposed to be a class made up of the people who had the highest aptitude for the ARCUS, but it kind of felt like each student was chosen for the unique perspective they could bring to the class. 

Thought it was quite concerning how many conflicting views would be present in this class. Would this class really be okay?

“ The Ministry of Railways wishes to thank all passengers for their patronage. This train is bound for Bareahard via Celdic. The next stop is… Trista. Trista. ”

Immediately, his sister gained all alertness as her head perked up and she directed her attention to Rean. Just before the train arrived at his stop, Elise grabbed his left hand and placed an item on his palm. She closed his fingers around the object and muttered, “Stay safe.”

“Huh?” Before he could open his hand, the train finally stopped and Elise suddenly shoved him out through the doors. “Wait—”

“Good luck Rean! Don’t forget to write me letters too!” she called out just before the doors closed once again, leaving him in mild confusion. She didn’t give him a chance to say bye...

He was still stumbling, trying to regain his balance without colliding with the crowd of passengers around him. He failed, accidentally tripping over someone’s foot and pushing someone down to the floor with him. 

“Ouch!” exclaimed his victim.

“I’m so sorry!” Rean looked to whoever he accidentally pushed and saw a red-uniform wearing boy with orange hair. He immediately stood up and tried to give the stranger his right hand. “Are you okay?”

The boy gratefully accepted the offered hand and got back on his feet. “I’m okay,” he smiled; he didn't seem upset at all. Instead, his eyes were sparking with gratefulness and interest. “And it wasn’t your fault either. I kind of saw what happened and… well, I’m no stranger to family members saying weird goodbyes, haha.”

Rean smiled back. He wondered if this boy’s family could beat Teo Schwarzer in saying a "strange" goodbye. The man had almost cried while promising death to anyone who harmed his children. 

“By the way, I’m Elliot Craig. Seems like you’re wearing a red uniform too.”

The name immediately clicked in Rean’s brain. The Intelligence Division files had shown that Elliot Craig's orbal arts aptitude was extremely high, resulting in him being one of the two individuals chosen to test an orbal staff from the Epstein Foundation. On the other hand, he had below average combat scores while his overall academic grades were average. 

Upon realizing that the boy was the son of Olaf Craig, a general of the Imperial Army and one of his dad's old friends, Rean imagined that Elliot could, in fact, have had a more ridiculous farewell with his father. 

“I’m Rean Schwarzer,” he greeted back, recomposing himself, while Elliot curiously looked at him. “Yeah, it doesn’t seem like many students were wearing red uniforms. Maybe we’ll be classmates...”

“That would be nice, but I kind of hope it doesn’t mean we’re going to be put in a special course or something,” Elliot chuckled nervously. “I’m already behind on the physical requirements for this school.”

Well, he was going to be in for a surprise. “You’ll be fine,” Rean tried to give the other boy reassurance before he opened his left hand. Sitting on the palm of his hand was a small bag of cookies. Attached to it was a note that said, Don’t forget to eat and sleep. Or else.

Mentally noting to thank her later, he couldn’t help but laugh at that. He could make no promises. 

---

It was… hard... talking to Elliot. There wasn’t any problem that lay within his companion, Elliot surprisingly proved to be a good conversationalist despite how timid he was. What was truly difficult was figuring out how “he” should act. He could use the Ashen Saint’s personality, but that would be another similarity between them. He was starting to regret spending all his time dreading over his behavior instead of actually going through the specifics of how he would act. 

Perhaps he would choose to be a character that was fitting as a member of this Class VII. A member that was needed? If they needed anyone? He didn’t exactly have enough information to determine what kind of character that would be at the moment, so he defaulted to the polite smiles and feigned interest that had become so natural to him.

“Welcome to Thors Military Academy!”

The moment they reached the school’s front gates, a petite girl in a green uniform and a chubby boy in a mechanics’ outfit approached them. He couldn’t recognize the girl, but he was fairly aware of the boy’s identity.

Rean looked at the boy warily. This guy worked for the Gnomes. His name was Georg. They… technically knew each other. When Rean had first visited the Black Workshop, he met this guy just before he was sent off to Thors. Before Georg’s memories were wiped and replaced, the boy seemed cold and calculating, but nothing else. He didn’t seem to desire anything other than to fulfill his purpose. Just like all the other homunculi. Just like how Black Alberich liked all those who worked under him. 

For now, he shouldn’t be too concerned about this. Whatever Georg’s purpose was here definitely had nothing to do with Rean. He was pretty sure Black Alberich would ignore any information pertaining to him simply because he didn’t care. 

“Um… Is there something wrong?” Georg asked, confused by Rean’s silence.

“Oh, sorry!” Rean shook his head out of his thoughts and handed Georg his weapon, followed by Elliot. He scratched his cheek in embarrassment. “Haha… I’m just a little antsy because of school starting.”

“Really? You’re the picture of calm and confidence!” Elliot exclaimed in surprise.

Good to confirm that his exterior self was still unaffected by his thoughts. 

“Understandable, I also felt nervous when I started,” the girl named Towa cheerfully smiled. “Well, the entrance ceremony is going to be held in the auditorium. I hope you enjoy your time at Thors!”

---

“Arise, O youth, and become the foundation of the world”

Sometimes he still could not believe that his dad was the reincarnation of Emperor Dreichels. That fact made this statement impact him more. These words weren’t only the hopes and expectations of the founder of this empire; they were the hopes and expectations of his dad. The thought of it led him to feel a new pressure settle on his shoulders. 

Suddenly, he could sense the feeling of someone’s stare on him. Rean looked around— by now only the students in red uniforms and the instructors were left in the room. No one seemed to be paying attention to him other than Elliot. Though he did catch the gaze of the foreigner from Nord; the other briefly smiled at him before turning his attention to a sudden boisterous voice that filled the room. 

Rean shifted his attention to a magenta haired female instructor. He remembered her: Sara Valestein. She was a former Jaeger and a former bracer; now she was an instructor at this academy. Though he did have to spend a couple nights contemplating how in Gehenna she got a job here.

A few months ago, he remembered meeting Sara when he happened to be acting as the Ashen Saint with Claire. The former bracer had constantly given the RMP officer the stink eye and even challenged them both to a drinking contest. Obviously, they had both refused. Yet for whatever reason, they had stuck around to watch Sara drink enough for the three of them.

Rean thought well of Sara; he even admired her to a certain extent. In spite of that, if she acted like that all the time, he would honestly fear the future of this class. Regardless, Rean knew Instructor Sara had sharp instincts. It wouldn’t be far from her ability to notice something “familiar” about him. He would have to make sure to be extra careful around her.

“I’d like all of you to join me for a special orienteering exercise.” She had an innocent smile on her face, but her eyes spoke of mischief. Already, none of his peers liked that look in her eyes. 

---

They were led to some abandoned schoolhouse for this special orienteering exercise. No one talked amongst themselves since everyone was new to each other. Although Rean could sense Elliot’s desire to strike up a conversation to fill the silence, the boy did not want to draw attention to himself. Rean didn’t either. At this point, he noticed Instructor Sara had thrown him a couple of curious glances so far. She had obviously noticed something even though Rean had literally done nothing so far. 

After a brief explanation of what this class was and some protests from his peers, Instructor Sara pressed a button on the wall. Suddenly, the floor beneath the class fell and everyone was dropped to the level below. 

He promised he didn't have any bad intentions when he tried to catch the fall of one of the girls nearest to him. Unfortunately, this resulted in him being trapped in a “peculiar” position beneath the girl he caught.

After one painful smack, Rean questioned once again if it was a good idea for him to be in this class for the umpteenth time. He wasn’t supposed to cause more problems...

Once they prepared their ARCUS orbments and equipment, the class split up to explore this underground dungeon. Rean briefly debated if he should go alone too, but Elliot looked so lost and nervous that he would regret it if he left the boy alone. Plus, it would be unfair to let someone as inexperienced in combat as Elliot to tackle this dungeon alone.

Fortunately, another student named Gaius Worzel stayed behind with them. If he remembered correctly, Gaius had the highest combat scores out of all the guys in this class. His ability with arts was fine and his academic scores were fairly high. The thing that stood out most about this individual was that he got a letter of recommendation from Zechs Vander, the lieutenant general of the 3rd Armored Division. From all this information, Rean already felt like he could trust this guy.

Observing the taller student, he noticed that Gaius’ presence brought a sense of peace and calm to the atmosphere. Already, Gaius had eased Elliot’s nerves about this whole orientation thing and Rean felt a little more relaxed than usual. However, when their eyes met, he detected something “off” about the way Gaius looked at him. It was the same with how Instructor Sara glanced at him a couple of times, indicating that there was something about Rean that was drawing their attention. 

Instructor Sara was one thing, but Gaius too? This was as confusing as it was concerning. Just what was catching their attention? Rean suddenly became even more self conscious of every movement he made, but he continued his friendly and polite behavior toward the two. 

The trio got along well. No one had any conflicting personalities or fighting styles. They easily engaged in fun banter. A couple of times, Gaius asked if things like dropping a class of students into a monster infested dungeon were naturally a part of all Erebonian school curriculum. Elliot had to insist that no, this was certainly not normal, but he was starting to sound doubtful at this point.

They defeated the first batch of monsters easily. Rean couldn't stop his amusement from watching Elliot attack the monster with “bubbles” while he and Gaius tore through the monsters with their weapons. 

“Tha— That was intense!” Elliot exclaimed while he looked at the two of them. “But you guys don’t seem fazed at all.”

Rean sheathed his sword as he nodded at the boy. “I sometimes fight monsters near my home for training.” And other stuff . He waited for Gaius to see what his response would be, but instead he could sense the feeling of an inquisitive stare on him again. 

He met the blue-eyed gaze in confusion. What did he do now? “Gaius?”

The other calmly closed his eyes as if coming to a conclusion about something. His smile was serene as he said, “There are a lot of monsters around my homeland. I often fight them to keep my family safe.”

“Wow,” Elliot looked at both of them in awe. “You’re both so strong!”

Rean almost laughed at that statement, but he kept his mouth shut. As his two companions moved forward, he thought back to Gaius’ behavior earlier. Gaius had looked like he wanted to ask a question but ultimately decided not to. 

He wasn’t able to think much about it when they met their second monster in this dungeon. This batch of monsters consisted of Grass Dromes, meaning that arts would be more effective on it. 

That... would be a problem. Not because he was particularly bad with casting arts. No. The problem was that Rean just realized that he only had one art and it was fire bolt . 

Fire .

Perhaps it was strange for him to have an aversion to fire considering that his main affinity was to the fire element and some of his unlearned Eight Leaves One Blade crafts used fire. It had taken so long to get used to the fireplace in the Schwarzer household, and even then he had always stayed as far as possible from the fire. To actually create fire and blast it from his hands? He couldn’t. He just… couldn’t.

Unfortunately, he also could not afford to disappoint his classmates. 

He forced himself to cast the art. But… his casting time took far too long. Despite how he acted first, Elliot and Gaius managed to cast their arts before him. When the battle ended, Rean was never able to cast anything.

Damnit, that was pathetic. If the battle involved dangerous monsters, then they would have surely faced serious repercussions for his inactivity.

“Rean, are you okay?” Elliot asked, and Rean had to try his hardest not to flinch. “You’re looking a little pale there.”

“Do you need some rest?” Gaius offered. 

“I’m okay,” he reassured them. “Using arts just… drain me.”

That was enough to convince them. They both had rarely used arts before, so they couldn’t argue against him even though he didn’t even do anything. 

To avoid the same mistake, Rean decided to attack those monsters with his sword. They were still weak enough for him to do considerable damage against them. He accepted that he would rather look dumb than cause any more issues. 

If the others casted concerned or confused glances at him, Rean ignored it. 

---

As they continued their dungeon exploration, they were able to meet up with a bespectacled boy known as Machias Regnitz. He was second best in the class when it came to academics, though his combat and arts scores were about average. Also, he had a clear disdain for nobles, making Rean want to avoid the entire subject around the other boy. 

Unfortunately, it was the first topic Machias brought up since they introduced themselves.

“Could I ask what social class you each belong to?”

What a dilemma. He really didn’t want to cause any more tension. Though if he lied now, then it may hurt him more in the future. Plus, he was definitely going to have to tell many lies in the future; he should at least be as truthful as possible to ease his mental burden.

He just hoped that Machias was currently level headed enough to not blow up so hard.

“...My birth parents are commoners, but later I was adopted and raised by nobles.”

Both the commoners gasped, widening their eyes in surprise. 

"Wait, seriously? I'm so sorry Rean," Elliot immediately bowed, flustered. "I should have treated you with more respect!"

The raven-haired boy shook his head. "There's no need. I'd prefer it if you treated me the same." Please . He didn't deserve any sort of special treatment, noble or not.

"Are you sure?" the red-haired boy looked uncertain and could only hesitantly accept Rean’s affirmative nod.

Meanwhile, everyone could just hear the gears working furiously in Machias’ head. “...Then... what are you?” the bespectacled student finally asked carefully.

He honestly had no clue. He didn’t feel like he belonged in either class. “I’m just…Rean, I guess.” Not the best answer, considering that "Rean" had yet to be defined. But they didn't know that.

Machias fell silent, trying to figure out what mental category to put Rean in. Rean was just grateful that this reaction was so far better than the previous one the commoner had with another noble. 

Suddenly, Gaius piped up, asking a sincere question. “I don’t understand social class dynamics, but do you have a problem with Rean’s social standing?”

“No!” Machias hesitantly answered, looking away from the noble. “Let’s just move on.”

To no one's surprise, Machias acted more careful and critical toward Rean. For one, he seemed more frustrated with the swordsman's performance in battle, despite being one of the better fighters of the group. However, when they engaged in battle with the Grass Dromes, the hot-headed student wasn't unreasonable.

"Why aren't you using your fire arts on the opponents who are obviously weak against fire?" Silent fury danced across the boy’s lime eyes. He was ready to snap. "You say you were born a commoner, but you grew up to be like those stuck up hedonists anyway! Do you derive pleasure from prolonging battle and watching the rest of us work more!?"

"Machias," Gaius warned. He was also on edge, but he seemed to be on Rean's side rather than against it. "He might have less nefarious reasons than you think."

Rean had no idea how Gaius picked up on that, but he was glad that someone was understanding. He coughed into his fist, embarrassed. "Sorry, I'm just a little uneasy around fire."

This answer did not have the desired effect on Machias. Instead, it seemed to make things worse. "Oh, so we should just give you special treatment and let you stay in your comfort zone? Elliot here is uncomfortable fighting monsters, yet he's still putting forth his best efforts!"

Elliot tried to interject, worried about the rising tension. "What Rean's doing is fine..." 

No. Actually, Machias was right. 

He should be doing better. Lightly grasping at the locket around his neck, Rean reluctantly complied. He supposedly threw his old self— the self that feared fire— away, so it was time to act like a changed person. It was time to take his first steps away from being a failure. "I'm sorry, I guess it was a little silly of me. I'll try better next time."

As promised, Rean used fire bolt on the next set of Grass Dromes they encountered. With his ARCUS in one hand, he launched a ball of flame toward the monster, successfully engulfing it in flames. Distantly, he was aware of Machias rolling his eyes and muttering something like, "Now, was that so hard?"

True. It wasn't so hard to cast the art.

The action was so simple and easy... 

 

So... why did his arms tremble? 

 

Why did his lungs constrict? 

 

Why… did it feel like flames engulfed him but only served to steal the heat away?

 

Why...

Deep down, he knew the answers. 

He only repeated these questions in his mind to keep him at a short distance from reliving the truth.

He didn't know when his knees had hit the cold pavement, but he was grateful for his close proximity to a hard surface. With his right hand, his other hand wrapped around the fabric near his chest while he tried to control his breathing. At the same time, he rapped his knuckles against the ground, creating a series of sounds. 

Vaguely, he heard voices calling out to him, but he could only focus on the sounds that eventually formed a pattern and translated into a million I’m sorries .

After an amount of time his mind could not measure, he could breathe normally again. But nothing in his mind returned to normal. He wanted to curse and scream. Of course it wouldn’t be so easy to throw his failed self away. Of course he still couldn’t get over it after twelve years or after this start of his supposed new life. 

 

Of course.

 

His eyes fluttered open just in time to see a pale green light engulf him. Suddenly, a sense of peace washed over him, and he no longer felt sick. Rean turned around to see a girl with glasses and plum colored hair. "Are you okay?" She asked, the concern in her eyes was as plain as day.  

He mustered up the most vigorous smile he had to offer. “I’m fine. I was just a little caught off guard” Yeah, he wasn’t on fire or pinned to the ground by some debris piercing through his chest. He was just fine. 

He barely noticed Machias approaching him. To his surprise, the bespectacled student bowed down, voice full of guilt. "I'm sorry! I shouldn't have forced you to do that."

Why was he apologizing? He was fine. 

Rean nervously rubbed the back of his neck. "No, it's my fault for downplaying my discomfort."

Bewildered green eyes met lilac. Something seemed to click in the boy’s mind. "You… what is wrong with you..?" 

Rean ignored the question and turned his attention to the others. It appeared that two other girls joined the scene. They all expressed worries about him, so he had to confirm multiple times that he was okay. Great. On the first day of school, he had just shown six of his classmates that there was something wrong with him. 

The group all agreed to take this moment to rest. In the meantime, they introduced themselves. 

“I’m Laura S. Arseid, from the town of Legram. You might recognize my name from my father, Viscount Arseid, who is the lord of Legram.” The blue-haired girl pointedly turned her attention toward Machias. “Do any of you take issue with this?”

Rean hummed thoughtfully. That information lined up with what was written in the Intelligence Division files. In addition to that, she had earned combat scores with her Arseid style of sword-fighting, placing herself as one of the best fighters in the class. Unsurprisingly, her proficiency with arts was sacrificed for her combat strength. Peculiarly, at the end of her file, there had been a note that said “KEEP HER AWAY FROM TECHNOLOGY.” He wondered what the intelligence division agent had witnessed to have felt the need to add that piece of information. 

Looking to the side, he saw Machias immediately raise his hands to symbolize peace, though his smile was wobbly. “Ah, no! You... seem like a nice person.”

“Anyone else?” Laura evaluated the rest of the boys. 

Gaius gave her a friendly greeting while Elliot cracked under her piercing gaze and nervously asked. “Uh… Should I call you Lady Laura?” The boy could barely manage to maintain eye-contact. 

“There is no need for formalities. We are all classmates after all.” Elliot did not look convinced, but he did not voice anything else. 

Obviously uncomfortable and clueless about how to deal with the noble girl, Machias awkwardly steered the focus toward the plum haired girl. 

“My name is Emma Millstein. It’s nice to meet you all," she introduced herself with a gentle smile.

The girl only revealed her name which was almost as much information the Intelligence Division had on her. Other than being the top scorer of the class and having a strong aptitude for arts that made her the other Epstein Foundation orbal staff candidate, there was nothing known about her background. With such a blank record, Rean wondered how exactly she passed through the school’s background check. Anyone would think someone with a mysterious past would be suspicious. 

This time, Machias and Elliot had an easier time talking. The former promised to beat her in their next academic test while the latter compared their orbal staves. Emma seemed embarrassed with all the attention on her, but her eyes scrutinized each of them carefully as if she was trying to find “something” in one of them. 

How curious. 

After the attention around the bespectacled girl died down, everyone looked at the last girl who had yet to introduce herself. The same girl who had slapped him earlier. She appeared conflicted, seemingly torn between looking at Rean in disgust or in worry. “My name is Alisa R.” She looked away from him. “It’s nice to meet all of you.”

Like Emma, she only elaborated on her name and nothing else. This one, however, had information in the Intelligence Division records. She was one of the top students in terms of academics. Her combat scores were a little behind but her arts scores were above average. She was the heiress to the Reinford company, being the daughter of Irina Reinford and the deceased Franz Reinford. Well, “deceased” as in being possessed by the leader of the Gnomes. 

He could feel his guilt rising again. Not only was she a significant victim of the curse, but he would have to keep his knowledge about her father a secret. 

“Also…” Ruby eyes hesitantly met lilac. “Sorry for smacking you. I kind of… overreacted.”

Oh. Right. “It’s fine,” Rean rubbed the back of his neck again out of nervous habit. “It’s my fault for—”

“Just be quiet and take the apology!” Alisa huffed as she turned on her heel and started walking away from the group. “We spent enough time chatting already. Laura, Emma, let’s go!”

The boys were left behind, standing awkwardly in silence. Machias was making an effort to not look at Rean, other than sparing a couple uneasy glances. Rean didn’t question the boy’s behavior and Elliot was also uncertain about how to break the ice. This resulted in Gaius taking the lead. 

---

As they continued through the dungeon, Elliot and Gaius started to fill the silence with a new conversation about their impressions of their female classmates. Rean was more concerned with Machias. There was still a tension between them, but it felt different from before. Rean had a feeling that the other boy was avoiding him not because he was raised as a noble, but because of something else. What that “something else” was, he had no clue. 

And he would have no chance to ask as they saw another one of their classmates just up ahead. It was Rufus' brother— Jusis Albarea. The noble had just slain a group of monsters with a swing of his sword, validating his high combat scores; his academic and arts scores were about as good. 

Gaius asked the noble if he wanted to join the group. In response, Jusis shook his head, saying, “I would prefer to reach the exit by myself.”

Machias chose this moment to end his silence. “Oh, I see, your lordship ,” he mocked, refueled with impulsive energy. “Too good for us to work with us, huh? How considerate of you!”

This was enough to irk Jusis and they spiraled into a nasty argument. Elliot’s attempts to calm them were ignored while Gaius was baffled, not fully comprehending their argument nor why they were getting so angry. Hostility radiated from the both of them and it wasn’t long until they were ready to attack each other. 

Oh no. 

Machias marched up to the noble, fully enraged. So much hatred was stored in those eyes, and Rean couldn’t help but feel like they were seeing something else. In one swift motion, he raised his fist and swung his arm. 

The punch successfully collided, but Jusis did not experience any pain or injury. Before they knew it, Rean had stepped in the way of the punch and took the hit to his face. 

“Guys—” Rean stumbled, a little disoriented. Gaius quickly grabbed his shoulder to keep him balanced while Elliot casted a quick healing art. “Lashing out at each other isn’t going to solve anything!”

This seemed to calm Jusis significantly as he looked a lot less annoyed and a lot more shameful. Unfortunately, Rean’s words seemed to have yet another undesired effect on the hot-headed commoner. 

A wild and lost look briefly flickered in Machias’ eyes as he practically screeched, “Stop defending that noble scum! Have you already—” he suddenly stopped himself, some semblance of clarity returned to his eyes. He then lowered his voice in confusion “—I…”

For a few moments, Machias stared at everyone in shock as his words failed him. Then, without any warning, he dashed out of the area, away from them.

“Machias!” Rean called out but knew it was no use. He looked to Gaius pleadingly. “Can you make sure he doesn’t get into trouble?”

Gaius seemed to already have the same thoughts as he was already chasing after the green-haired teen. “See you at the end!” he called out before he was out of range. 

“Well, that could have had a better outcome,” Elliot tried to lighten the mood but it only served to depress Rean more.

“Perhaps I did act a bit out of line,” Jusis admitted. “It appears I still have much to learn.”

“Huh, I didn’t expect a noble son to admit he was wro— Oh, I’m sorry! That came out wrong!” Elliot apologized to the both of them while looking completely out of his depth. After all, he didn’t have much experience talking to nobles.

“We’re equals at this school, supposedly, so you do not need to treat me so differently.” Jusis turned his attention to the other swordsman. “You’re a noble too?”

“Yeah, I was adopted by the Schwarzer barony, but my birth parents were both commoners.”

“Schwarzer...” He could feel the noble’s crystal blue eyes try to evaluate him, similar to what Machias did earlier.

Not wanting Jusis to comment on the nuances of being a noble by adoption, Rean hurriedly asked, “Do you mind if we join you?” In most circumstances, they would have been fine without Gaius or Machias’ help. However, seeing how the universe wanted to mess with him so much today, Rean couldn’t exactly trust himself to cover Elliot’s back by himself. 

“Like I said, I would have preferred to reach the exit by myself. However, since I am partially the reason why you are missing two members, I will accompany you.”

Thank Aidios.

“Really?” Elliot squeaked when Jusis glared at him. The noble huffed and walked ahead of them. Elliot could only helplessly look at Rean as they followed. 

---

It was apparent that Elliot had absolutely no clue how to talk to Jusis, every attempt ending in awkwardness. The noble’s cold demeanor certainly didn’t help either. It was so awkward that they reached a point where they would only converse with Rean and not with each other. 

Rean didn’t mind talking, but he didn’t like how this Class VII project seemed to be falling apart already. Now that he was currently not directly involved in any drama, he realized that there was so much conflict between the students— understandable because this was the first day of a class mixed with nobles and commoners. Based on Machias’ and Elliot’s reactions toward the nobles of the class and vice versa, it was evident that class barriers wouldn’t be so easily overcome. 

It was entirely possible that those social class barriers could be the downfall of Class VII. No, it wouldn’t just be a possibility. He could see it being a reality if nothing was done about it. That would be… sad. Unacceptable even. 

But that was why he was here, right? To make sure that Class VII didn’t fail? 

 

Right?

 

A sense of duty flared within Rean. He may have made many mistakes today but that didn’t mean all was lost. So far from what he had observed today, almost all of his classmates were kind and friendly when they weren’t pushed. Only Machias was the exception but even he didn’t seem to entirely hate all nobles if his nonviolent reaction toward Laura was any indication. Regardless, it couldn’t be entirely impossible for a nice commoner and a nice noble to become friends. 

That was what he hoped as he decided to experiment with Elliot and Jusis. If they just found something in common, maybe they wouldn’t be so awkward with each other anymore. 

As he talked to Jusis about tea, Rean wracked his brain on all the information he had on the two. Elliot’s Intelligence Division file briefly mentioned that the boy went to a music school or something of the like. He also vaguely remembered Rufus talking about music preferences— even his younger brothers’. Since music was the only thing he could find in common between the two, he would just have to go with it. 

All he had to do was ask Elliot if he liked classical music and what his favorite symphony was. The boy’s eyes lit up in a way it had never this entire day, delivering a fascinating lecture about the biographies of many different classical musicians and the pieces they created. It was a shame that Rean didn’t understand a lot of it once Elliot started using classical music jargon— but Jusis did. 

The noble seamlessly replaced Rean in the conversation, not that he minded. He was relieved that the two could actually talk to each other normally. He actually couldn’t believe it was that easy, though he wondered if it would end once Elliot remembered who he was talking to. 

But at least things weren’t as hopeless as they seemed. 

For once, Rean felt pride in himself. He’d done something good today, no matter how small it was. Perhaps he wouldn’t mind doing this more: helping people understand each other, uniting people, and guiding people. Maybe that was what he wanted to be...

...Okay, he was getting a little ahead of himself.

 

But that didn’t stop him from storing this tiny victory in his head. 

 

Not much later, they met the last girl of their class, Fie Claussell. Her combat scores were almost as high as Laura’s. However, her academic scores weren’t as high. This data wasn’t surprising considering she was a former jaeger and the adoptive daughter of Rutger Claussell, the boss of Zephyr. 

Rean automatically wore a pleasant smile to hide what he was feeling right now. It was not like he had any qualms against jaegers. Sara was a former jaeger and he didn’t mind her. It also wasn’t uncommon for his dad to hire jaegers for reasons. He understood that they worked solely for money, and sometimes it was the only way to survive in this world. Unfortunately, their weapons were sometimes still a reminder of what happened that day. But at least he usually didn't react as bad to them as he did to fire. 

He figured that as long as she didn’t suddenly set off grenades out of battle, he would be fine. 

They didn’t talk much. She only informed them that they were almost done with the dungeon before she ran up the wall and left. 

It was also at this moment that Elliot realized that he had been casually talking to a noble. The boy apologized so much, but Jusis waved them all off nonchalantly, preferring Elliot to be casual around him. 

This time, Elliot smiled and agreed.

In his head, Rean celebrated another tiny victory.

---

Eventually, they reached a long hallway with no issue. From the other end, gunshots and yells could be heard. At once, the trio rushed through the hall until they reached an open area. Before them was their entire class engaged in a fight with what seemed to be a living stone statue of a gargoyle. 

“What in Aidios’ name is that?!” Elliot exclaimed in surprise and fear. Rean briefly saw Fie turn to face them and make a peace sign before continuing to shoot at the monster. As if everything was normal. 

“Finally, a challenge,” Jusis didn’t even seem fazed.

“Keep your guard up, guys!” Rean called out and they wasted no time to join the battle. 

Considering they were the last group to join in on the battle, it didn’t take much longer for the monster to fall. Especially once all their ARCUS’ activated and linked together, allowing them to all attack at once as a finishing blow.

That was… new. He’d never used that feature of the ARCUS before since he had never needed to link up with anyone. However, the feeling of being able to read everyone’s movements and being able to catch a glimpse of each other’s emotions for a moment… it gave him mixed feelings. Though the feelings were so fleeting that he couldn’t explain— 

THUMP

Eyes widening, his hand already reached to clench the fabric over his chest. His heart was pounding. Hard. 

That was a little concerning, though he had a little theory for why it was acting up here. Luckily, none of his future classmates seemed to notice as they were too busy grilling Instructor Sara about the true purpose of Class VII. Discreetly, he took deep breaths, trying to calm down unnoticed. He would be a fool to hope Instructor Sara’s watchful eyes somehow missed this, but it wasn’t exactly her problem at the moment.

“I think that pretty much covers the hows and whys of your situation.” Instructor Sara crossed her arms, directly looking at their faces one by one. “...So now you know. And that leaves you all with an important decision to make: will you stick with Class VII, or not?”

They all looked at each other with varying degrees of uncertainty, nonchalance, or curiosity. A long amount of time passed without anyone saying anything. Rean started to grow anxious. Did no one actually want to join Class VII? Would it fail before it could begin? It was at this moment that he sensed the tension in the air. It could no longer have been caused by the fight with the gargoyle, so it must have originated from the students themselves.

This time, the tension didn’t only belong to Machias and Jusis who were still refusing to look at each other. Looking around, he noticed a stiffness in Laura’s shoulders as she stared down an indifferent Fie. That was strange. But it wasn’t as strange as the nearly imperceptible awkwardness that loomed between Emma and Gaius— of all people!

Just what did he miss?

It was becoming apparent that no one was going to step forward until someone else did. Maybe that was the role and character Rean had to take while he was here: a leader or a guiding hand. At least, that was what he thought when he was about to resign himself to taking the lead.

But Laura spoke up first.

Next was Gaius.

Then Emma.

Elliot.

Alisa.

Fie. 

Jusis.

Even Machias.

They all accepted to join Class VII. Huh. 

For once, his calm smile reflected how he genuinely felt inside. Really, he had been worrying for no reason. Despite all the evident issues, Class VII would be fine without him. He didn’t have to take any role other than observing and keeping them on the right track.

They all faced him waiting for his answer. And Rean nodded, marking the official beginning of the little project known as Class VII.

Notes:

Don't get yourselves too comfy with the lengthy chapters. This is just an exception. Hopefully.

Actual notes related to the story: Rean calls Osborne "dad" and calls Teo "father." Seemed reasonable considering nobles use more formal language anyway. Also: I'm terrified of "Jusis" being auto-corrected to "Jesus." That's it... I think.

Are you curious about the "little" changes you've probably noticed? Things do seem to be happening a bit quicker in this story... (but that's mostly because I'm impatient and have no sense of pacing, haha). Or are you confused because I created something unreadable? (English may be the only language I know, but I still suck at it). Please let me know what you think in the comments.

Take care, everyone!

Chapter 3: Obsession, Fear, and Hatred

Notes:

So sorry for inconsistent updates lol...
But I hope you enjoy!

Days had passed by, all full of activity. Parading as a fool while hanging out with supposed friends, slacking off in school for a degree that didn’t even matter, recruiting for a cause that would land everyone in Gehenna, revising plans to delay the journey to Gehenna… So many things had been done. To his surprise, nearly a month had already passed since that encounter.

And yet that 50 mira coin (plus all that change) was STILL burning in Crow’s pocket. 

Sheesh, the one time he actually planned to meet the Ashen Saint happened to be a time where said person decided to peace out of the world. By now, he should’ve interpreted that the disappearance was caused by the saint fighting off a monster too strong or accidentally sticking their nose in the wrong business. The world wasn’t that nice after all. Crow should’ve at least spent that money to get a burger so the Ashen Saint’s efforts weren’t all in vain.

He should’ve gotten over this by now. 

But it was still on his mind. Bothering him. Taking away precious thinking time he could be using to perfect more plans or to gamble on horse races. Vita had said he had an obsession. Crow had said that was stupid because what kind of moron would get obsessed because of an incident involving 50 mira?

And yet he was acting like that moron right now, still thinking about giving back this cursed change. Sometimes he didn’t understand his own thoughts. He literally spent the last six years planning a ruthless assassination attempt, but his conscience apparently drew the line at free theft? What the hell?

He rolled his eyes at the absurdness of his logic. Said action allowed him to catch a glimpse of a red-uniformed first-year walking toward the Student Union Building. Being part of the pilot study that helped create the Class VII today, Crow had a natural interest in all of the students. It didn’t help that they were all connected to so many big shots.

Seriously, the class had Rufus Albarea’s brother, Carl Regnitz’s son, and Irina Reinford’s daughter. The fact that those names were all part of Thors’ Board of Directors made Crow wonder if some form of nepotism was going on here, but their scores didn’t lie. Even then, this line-up wasn’t so surprising compared to the other outstanding connections present in Class VII.

This class also had the son of Olaf Craig—the man who literally stood on tanks in the middle of an active battlefield like nobody’s business—and an apprentice (if that recommendation was any indication) of Zechs Vander—the man who had taught that crazy debaucherous prince everything he knew. While this was a military academy, it wasn’t everyday for students connected to a general and a lieutenant general of the Imperial army to be enrolled in the same year.

But what really took the cake were the daughter of THE Radiant Blademaster, the orphan of THE Jaeger King, and the sister of THE Vita Clotilde. Those names belonged to fairly dangerous people, making Crow wonder if their relatives had just as much potential. 

Sheesh, this class had connections with high nobility, imperial government, tech giants, high-ranking military, renowned martial artists, scary jaeger bosses, and even freaking Ouroboros. Were they missing anything? If he didn’t know any better, he would have thought all the big shots put their relatives in a class just to see who would come out on top. 

Ah, but there was one guy who had no outstanding connection or background whatsoever. He was so normal compared to the others in this class that he would normally be overlooked. Forgotten for relative insignificance. 

Somehow… that kind of made him intriguing. 

It made him wonder. Was this guy, Rean Schwarzer, truly as normal as he seemed? It was unfair to think that everyone in Class VII had to be special. Too bad Crow was anything but fair. 

On the surface, Rean was friendly, helpful, and intelligent. His intuition was insanely sharp and his learning speed was extremely fast. Rean had many, many great qualities; it was no surprise so many students were gravitating toward him.

But… that was it.

Where were the flaws? One would think that Rean was a pushover (he had probably helped nearly half the people in this town by now). However, what made pushovers “flawed” was that they would sacrifice their own time or plans in order to help other people. Rean though… he didn’t appear to do anything in his free time. It could be argued that he was constantly helping people because he was bored. 

Just what were his desires? His interests? People’s desires were obvious when they were seen striving toward a goal, no matter how big or small. This guy, however, never initiated anything--never reached for anything. Not even with his "favorite" activity of helping people. He was always reacting to other people, going along with whatever they did. He never did anything for himself unless it was related to school or survival. 

On the surface, Rean had no flaws. No desires. This made him unreadable. Perfect. Impossible.

It was like "Rean" was barely existent. 

Only a puppet could achieve such, and Crow doubted that Rean was a puppet. His gut feeling told him that there was something wrong (dangerous) with this guy. No puppet would ring the alarms in his head this much. 

And it was true. Rean was wearing a “mask.” Crow could tell, being an expert crafter of masks and master of deceit. It took time, but he eventually found cracks in this mask. Brief moments of emotions passing through those lilac eyes that didn’t match his smile and faint twitches to topics he claimed to agree with suggested that he was hiding something. Though Crow would never know what it was unless he got closer.

Which Crow did. If only for his own peace of mind and to find a distraction from thinking about that stupid Ashen Saint. 

(Vita and Scarlet would later laugh at him (and Ordine would agree with them), saying that he got a new obsession. Whatever, at least he was no longer thinking about someone who was probably a ghost now.)

Obviously, he started with using his good ol’ reliable trick to see how Rean would react to having something stolen from him. People always had a reaction to loss. “Hey there, first year,” Crow walked toward the raven-haired boy, seeing him express visible confusion. “Wanna see a trick I’ve been practicing?”

“Trick..?”

“Yup,” Crow lazily grinned while his crimson eyes carefully observed the other’s face. “Got a 50 mira coin I could borrow?”

In that moment, some unreadable emotion did flicker in those eyes. That was… interesting? Crow wasn’t expecting to get some sort of reaction for mentioning something as insignificant as a 50 mira coin.

Rean took a moment to rummage through his pockets before his cheeks slightly flustered from embarrassment. “Sorry, not at the moment.”

Well, that plan was a bust already. But he was nothing but stubborn and persistent. Casually slipping an arm around Rean’s shoulders, Crow did not miss how the other tensed up. That response was common, especially if they didn’t know Crow. But normally, he would have received a smack or a shove by now. The first-year just reluctantly accepted the touch, despite the stiffness never leaving his shoulders. 

“I guess I can show you that trick later. For now, how about I show you to the Student Council room?” Crow, having absolutely no respect for other people’s personal boundaries, got so close that his head rested against the other. His sixth sense could feel Rean’s growing discomfort and he braced himself for the other to pull away in some form.

But Rean did nothing. The boy only leveled him with a calm gaze and innocent smile. 

(As if his muscles weren’t becoming rigid and his skin didn’t rise with goosebumps, his body trying to repel the guy hanging off his shoulder.) 

“How’d you know I was headed there?”

Dang, Crow was suddenly starting to feel bad about invading Rean’s personal space if he wasn’t going to receive some kind of reprimand. Like come on man, it wasn’t hard to set clear boundaries. No one would blame him for doing such either. Unfortunately, Crow couldn’t just abruptly let go—that would be even more suspicious since he was trying to play as the overly relaxed and friendly upperclassman.

Ironically, Crow was starting to feel uncomfortable. While he usually initiated such casual touches, he was used to people pushing him away. Not that he minded. Despite how often he intruded others' personal space, he honestly didn’t like to be close to anyone for so long. 

But now he was stuck in a half-hug with a stranger because this idiot still hadn’t shrugged him off. Great. Just wonderful. Well, it would do no good for two apparently intimate guys to just stand at the front door, so Crow guided Rean inside the building and up the stairs. 

“I know Sara loves to dump her work on poor, unfortunate souls, and I heard you were the lucky winner this year~” He amusedly watched a resigned sigh escape from the other’s lips. “Plus, it’s already pretty late. The Student Council president’s been worried that you got lost.”

“I’ll have to apologize—” The raven’s head lowered, eyes pointing to the ground, hiding whatever emotion that touched his face.

“Don’t worry your pretty little head over it. She won’t mind.”

“She?” 

They stopped just in front of the Student Council room. Before Rean could knock on the door, Crow nonchalantly kicked the door open and strolled into the room, finally releasing the teen from his grasp.

“Towa, I brought your guest here!” he announced joyfully.

He was met with one of the most intimidating pouts Zemuria could ever witness. Angie sure would be jealous. “Crow! How many times have I told you to knock first? Geez, you and Angie never learn.”

“My bad, my bad.” Yeah, he was sorry. But that wouldn’t stop him from doing it again.

The petite girl opened her mouth—probably to scold him some more—but then she caught a glimpse of his companion. “Oh! Welcome to the Student Council room, Rean Schwarzer!” And just like that, Crow was completely forgotten. He gracefully dropped his behind on one of the chairs while he vaguely registered their polite conversation. 

It was 100% evident that Towa had naively believed Sara’s claims about Rean agreeing to help out the Student Council. Oh well, it wouldn’t be Towa to not have faith in their instructors, even in ones like Sara. And Rean, the supposed good-natured soul that he was, resigned himself to this fate so she wouldn’t be upset.

The whole conversation spurred no new reactions from the boy. Rean had started with a gentle smile. He ended with the same gentle smile. 

No wonder no one suspected anything.

The moment their conversation came to a close, ending with Rean thanking the president, Crow almost jolted out of his seat. He stretched and croaked out a yawn, gaining their attention. “Man, I can’t understand you hard-workers, I’d rather just stay in bed.” He shot a grin at the boy. “Hey, Rean. For being a man by helping Towa out, how about I buy you a snack?”

They both looked surprised, though Towa soon shot him an ineffective glare, warning him to not pull his usual tricks on the poor first-year. 

But Crow’s attention was mostly fixed on how Rean’s fingers twitched. Now that was interesting.

“I—”

“I’m speaking from experience when I say that gofers do not get paid enough for their jobs. So you might as well take your last day of freedom to relax because tomorrow, they’ll drive you like a slave.”

“It’s really not as bad as Crow says.” Towa nervously chuckled before she beamed at Rean. “But he has a good idea! I feel bad for taking up your time, so I would at least like to reward you with something before you go…” She took out some mira out of her pocket and handed it to him. “Here, you can buy anything you want from the cafe downstairs.”

Another twitch. 

Hmm...

“What gives, Towa? I already called dibs! I’m paying for his food!” 

A third twitch. A pattern was becoming visible. 

The girl looked unimpressed, staring at him knowingly. “Last time you said that, you left without paying for the bill. I refuse to allow you to traumatize any more students, so I’ll pay for it.”

Crow dramatically gasped, donning a betrayed expression as he led the first-year out of the room, accidentally draping himself over Rean’s shoulder again because he forgot the other wouldn’t shove him off. Great, he just regretted all his decisions in his life again. Rean thanked Towa before he politely closed the door. Quietly, they walked down the stairs until he spoke up, “Judging by what Towa said, am I right to assume that you asked me for 50 mira earlier so you could steal it?”

Man, Towa was already ruining his stellar reputation even though it was true. “Correct you are, meister! But don’t worry, I would’ve given it back to you. Eventually... Probably...” He good-naturedly laughed, but was disappointed to see that Rean had no reaction.

Seriously? Not even a chuckle or a deadpan? Geez, this kid really needed to loosen up.

“Anyway, what do you want?” Crow took a seat at the nearest empty table; Rean sat directly across from him. No other students were in the area. “Whole juice or a tomato sandwich?”

“Whatever’s cheaper, so the whole juice.” How practical.

Raising a brow, he asked, “You sure? I can hear your stomach growling from here. I think Towa would prefer it if you were well fed rather than being 200 mira short.” Looking carefully, Rean was a tad bit thin. 

And there was twitch #4 since they entered this building. 

“I’m good.” That was also the first time Rean refused something. The boy hadn’t rejected Crow’s closeness, Sara’s claim to appoint him as a gofer, or Towa’s acceptance of him as said gofer; he didn't reject loss of personal space or loss of decision. No, the thing that made Rean protest was this . People giving him things.

How strange.

Innocently humming to himself, Crow left his seat to go order the food. When he returned, he pushed a box of whole juice and a tomato sandwich toward the first-year. As expected, Rean’s fingers twitched, another unreadable emotion crossing those eyes. These tics all happened in a fraction of a second before a timid chuckle escaped his lips.

“This is too much...” Rean slowly announced as he pushed the food back to Crow. Another rare, but now predictable, protest from the boy. “Towa—”

“Don’t worry about her money. I paid for the sandwich myself.” Technically. He doubted the Ashen Saint would care if he used that change on a starving kid instead of himself. Good riddance to that 50 mira though. “Really, just give me a thanks. No need to be indebted to me for such a small favor.”

His hesitant eyes glanced to the food then to Crow  for a couple of times before he reached out to the proffered items. “I— thanks…”

“No problem. Though I totally wouldn’t mind if you treated me to dinner some day~”

His response only received a polite smile. Man, couldn’t this kid at least pretend to put any consideration to his comment?

For the next half hour, they chatted about how they were doing in school—stuff Crow didn’t really care about, but he feigned interest to see if he could learn anything else about the teen. There was nothing significant that came out of the conversation, and he had the nagging feeling that Rean was also feigning interest. Not like he had anything to compare it to since Rean never showed obvious interest in anything.

Eventually, night fell and Rean’s ARCUS rang; it was a call from Sara. The boy said his quick goodbyes and thanks before he left Crow at his table. 

That was interesting. He had more fun trying to figure Rean out than he had expected. The kid had crafted a pretty effective “mask” if Crow still couldn’t see past the cracks despite being so close. He still couldn’t tell what any of those twitches or flickers of well hidden emotion meant, but at least he knew the trigger now. 

Giving him stuff, or offering acts of kindness, was apparently the only thing that made Rean uncomfortable enough to try to react against people. 

Crow couldn’t relate. He didn’t mind taking what people gave unless it was pity. He didn’t mind because he had so little that he could call his . He didn’t mind pretending that he had things (like friends) because it was the only way to distract himself from everything that was missing.

(Truth be told, some forgotten part of himself craved for all these illusions he created to be reality).

In any case, he would have to be more careful next time. Overwhelming the first-year would not be good progress and Crow did not want to spend another half month observing the teen from a distance. Plus, doing any more would be uncharacteristic for “Crow Armbrust.” No doubt his “friends” would notice. 

“Crow!”

Speak of the devils.

Angie and George suddenly emerged from the entrance while Towa stumbled down the stairs with a bunch of papers piled up in her hands. What convenient timing. Were they watching?

“I really hope you don’t plan on bothering Rean!” Towa was the first to announce her concern, setting her stack of papers on the table before she crossed her arms. “You usually never show interest in something unless you’re feeling mischievous.”

Angie casually strode to the table, adding her own two cents. “Or maybe our bachelor has a little crush~”  

A crush, huh? People did act out of character in the name of love, so no one would question Crow’s interest in Rean if they assumed he had a crush. 

That was the reason why he didn’t deny Angie’s statement. “He’s cool. And cute. Good thing he’s a guy so a certain someone can’t steal this one away from me.” 

Angie heaved a disappointed sigh. “‘Tis a shame. He would look hot as a chick.”

“You sure, Crow?” George spoke up, sounding unusually concerned. “He’s kind of…” He paused and shook his head. “...Nevermind.”

Huh. Did George notice that there was something off about Rean too? That was surprising, considering George wasn’t really known for being able to read people. He’d always been the kind of guy more in tune with orbments than humans. 

“No need to worry about me,” a loose grin spread across his face. Well, now that he had an excuse to bother Rean, he figured he had less reason to hold back in the future. “You should be more worried about him~”

They all shook their heads in exasperation.

 

---

---

 

“Instead of trying to put everything in its place, why don’t you just… go with the flow for a change? It seems like you’re desperately trying to find… “something.” But if you don’t plant yourself somewhere, you’re just going to blow away with the next big gust that comes along.”  

Rean recalled Instructor Sara’s words to him earlier as he pushed a table to the middle of his room. It was good advice—a small reminder that Instructor Sara did have her moments, but… He thought he was already going with the “flow”? He’d already established that he would be a distant observer of the class, sometimes giving a little helping hand here or there. Class VII was already capable on their own, and they didn’t need Rean accidentally messing everything up in the name of being “helpful.” His place was outside: that was what the “flow” had told him. 

But was that wrong too?

Closing his eyes in deep thought, he tried to recall the interpersonal relationships within Class VII.

Jusis had been getting along well with Elliot and Gaius (to the absolute bafflement of Machias and nearly all the nobles in Trista). He and Laura were often seen talking or sharing companionable silence. Sometimes he, Laura, and Gaius would spar with each other for fun, often providing quite a spectacle for many students.

Meanwhile, Machias would also spend time with Elliot and/or Gaius (whenever Rean or Jusis weren't around). The boy also hung out with Emma to talk about academics and some books. Sometimes the pair would bump into Laura and Jusis, leading to the girls having a friendly chatter while the boys awkwardly ignored each other.

Speaking of Emma, she was closest to both Laura and Fie who were still refusing to acknowledge each other (for a reason Rean had yet to decipher). And, surprisingly enough, she was the only person in Class VII who had befriended everyone. Well, kind of. There was still something weird between her and Gaius, but it wasn't anything hostile.

It was the complete opposite for Fie who only had Emma as a friend. Barring her quarrel with Laura, she always kept her distance from the others with her indifferent attitude and by running away to take a nap on a bench. Though she may be gaining a new friend soon if Gaius’ choice to frequently paint near her napping locations was any indication.

Then, there was Alisa who mainly stuck with a female friend group (Laura and Emma), seemingly like she was a little uncertain about how to deal with boys. Though she seemed to be trying to branch out, sometimes catching Elliot to talk about school and the little things in life.

Overall, the class could function fairly well as a unit. Only two and a half weeks had passed since the first day of school, so they still had a lot of time to get used to each other. Rean didn’t need to do anything. He’d already established that nobles and commoners could get along just fine by finding common ground between Jusis and Elliot. But honestly... he couldn’t help but think they would be friends already without his help. Maybe they would be better friends right now if he hadn’t done anything…

And that doubt was why he didn’t dare to help the others get along. They could get along by themselves naturally and better than if Rean helped. 

(Because he was unnatural. He would make things worse)

Sighing, he stared at the bed for a moment even though he was not sleepy. Tired, but not sleepy. Placing a candle on his center table, he lit it with a small lighter. Slowly, his hand waved over the tiny flame, waiting for some kind of reaction. 

Nothing. Just uneasiness. 

Well, that was good and all, but no enemy would attack with such a weak flame. They were going to have a field study soon, and he had no doubt they were going to face monsters— monsters that could possibly breathe fire or cast fire arts. He never had a problem with this when he was the Ashen Saint because his mask, crafted by gnome technology, changed his personality to make him useful, even removing his fear of flames. However, he was no longer wearing that mask, guaranteeing that he was going to react like he did back in the Old Schoolhouse.

His classmates hadn’t talked about it since that day, understanding that everyone had their own fears. But he was certain that they would be more cautious about using crafts or arts related to fire around him, meaning that he would be holding them back.

Yeah, he couldn’t let that happen. 

So for the past two weeks, he’d been trying to get used to fire by trying to cast an art or attempting to use a craft he should’ve mastered by now. Unfortunately, he had made no progress by now.

But that wouldn’t stop him from trying again today. 

With one swing of his tachi, the flame was silenced. Closing his eyes, he honed his senses and focused on the area above him. Judging by her aura and by the sound of her loud snoring, Instructor Sara was clearly asleep in her bed. Good. Widening his range of detection, he confirmed that the rest of his classmates were in their rooms. Perfect.

Quietly, he turned his lights off and slipped out of his room. His footsteps were soft, following him carefully down the stairs and out the front door. He followed the breeze that was directed to his right, and walked down the highway until he was out of sight and hearing distance from Trista.

Under the starlit sky, the hoots from owls and chirping from crickets concocted a steady lullaby for the few animals resting here. Surprisingly, there weren’t many monsters present as usual; Rean usually had to sweep up the area before he started his “training.” After slaying a couple monsters with his taichi, he took out his ARCUS.

Closing his eyes, he took a few deep, calming breaths. Everything was at peace. Everything was okay. He just had to wait for one more thing.

Only a few moments later, golden, slitted eyes narrowed at him. From the direction of Trista, a black cat stalked toward him. Ever since he started the routine of sneaking out here in the night, he noticed he’d gain a little audience in the form of a curious cat. At first, he had been shocked, accidentally thinking the cat’s presence was a person—that time he’d almost set the cat on fire and passed out. Since he’d prefer to not recreate that experience, he’d wait for the cat to arrive so he wouldn’t get surprised. 

Seeing the cat lay down, Rean started to fiddle with his device. Another deep breath. 

Okay, he was ready to go.

“ARCUS, activate.” Familiar lights danced around him as he concentrated on the art. Before him, wisps of fire burst into existence, merging into each other to become one larger ball of flame. The heat built up; he could feel the warmth travel up through his fingertips, up his arms, to his shoulders.

But not to his chest.

Never to his heart.

Despite his close proximity to the fire, the vast coldness originating from his heart only grew more intense. The chills it radiated only vanquished the warmth that the embers shared. 

It was cold. So cold. So cold so fast.

As if there wasn’t a fire right there .

As if he wasn’t right here. 

As if he was losing touch with reality— losing touch with life.

Like her, dead.

And him 

 

Dying. 

 

“ RELINQUISH IT TO ME…”

 

No— Don’t—

 

Some semblance of cold escaped him, replaced by a vague warmth he desperately tried to cling to. He reached for the source of warmth and wrapped his arms around it until the tremors in his shoulders subsided and the air could finally return to his lungs. He disguised a sob as a cough, even though there was no one to hide his sorrow from except this cat in his arms.

“Sorry…” his fingers ran through her silky fur. Many long moments passed before he released the nonplussed cat who looked like she would rather be anywhere but here. The cat meowed, sounding a lot like an annoyed huff. Truly, he didn’t know what the cat’s intentions were, but he was glad she was here. He was usually capable of bringing himself back from… that, but the cat seemed to be able to return him to reality faster.

He briefly wondered if Aidios sent this cat to watch over him, or if he was so pathetic that even animals pitied him. 

Sighing, he took note of the burnt patch of grass that was a short distance away from him. That was definitely caused by his art, but the flames had already died down… Really, he was making no progress at all. And the field study was only a few days away…

Not even realizing that he’d been crouching on the ground, he stood up. He unsheathed his sword, going through many practiced motions, as well as the motions for that craft he still couldn’t fully use. It would be so useful… it would make him so much more useful if he could use it. He knew how to do it. He just needed to get over his aversion to flames.

Once he calmed down for the most part, he put his sword away and gripped his ARCUS tightly.

He would try again.

 

To only end in failure.

 

---

---

 

Celine hated humans.

They were all so dumb. Always destroying the things they needed but never knew they needed until it was too late, and always striving for goals that would destroy themselves... it was all stupid. Celine wondered why Aidios had decided that they should dominate the land of Zemuria. Was having a bunch of living beings who carelessly destroyed themselves necessary to the world?

But that was whatever. Humans weren’t Celine’s problem. She lived with a bunch of witches who had isolated themselves from humanity, so she didn’t care.

But then she did.

Because for whatever reason, the Awakeners of the Divine Knights had to be those stupid humans. Why couldn’t it have been witches? She wouldn’t mind only having to deal with Emma.

Actually, scratch that. Emma was such a handful that she didn’t know what to do with the child. Seriously, that witch had decided to use MAGIC in front of some of her schoolmates just to heal the wound some green-haired guy got because he was careless. Good thing said schoolmates were dumb, believing that Emma happened to have some super effective medicine with her. Well, most of them were dumb. That tall guy hadn’t seemed to buy her story and had been suspicious of her ever since. 

Oh well. Emma was old enough to solve her own problems. Not like there was one unless that student somehow knew about magic and witches. Celine would just focus on the main problem:

Just who was the Awakener?

It could be any one of the foolish kids in this foolish sea of students. Actually, she and Emma had narrowed down the candidate to the eight students in Class VII. During the “special orienteering exercise,” they had sensed a shift of energies in the Divine Knight Trial site as if it was reacting to the presence of a potential Awakener. Most likely, it was reacting to one of the students. 

So Celine only had to pay attention to eight humans. That was bearable. 

Except not.

Did that silver-haired girl seriously have to snuggle up with her everytime she took those catnaps (which was usually all the time)? Did that blonde-haired guy seriously have to give her milk everytime he passed by? Did that green-haired guy have to get in a competition with said blondie about giving her milk which led to Celine having an endless supply of milk as well as an endless headache from those two arguing? Did all the members of Class VII have to rub her fur (amazingly) everytime she was near? Heck, did that silver-haired guy who didn’t even belong to Class VII have to (enticingly) wave catnip in her face whenever she was just minding her own business?

It was like they were treating her like a darn cat.

(She was more than that. She was a familiar in the form of a cat. BIG DIFFERENCE)

Fine. Whatever. She could begrudgingly get used to it.

It was nothing compared to the bane of her existence at the moment: Rean Schwarzer. Yes, this guy had bothered her so much that she could even remember his name. This guy was the absolute worst. Not only did he give her headpats and milk, he also gave her a lot of trouble.

In the middle of one night, she had seen him sneak out of the dormitories and to the highway. To the highway full of dangerous nocturnal monsters. 

Did this guy have a death wish or something?

Of course, Celine followed. This guy was a potential Awakener. It would be bad if he died (not to mention, Emma would probably be sad). She wouldn’t allow this guy to die on her watch.

It turned out that Rean was really strong. He could wipe out a whole area of monsters on his own without breaking a sweat. She didn’t know his intentions, but at least she learned that he was completely fine by himself.

Oh how wrong she was.

After he slew all the monsters, he attempted to cast a simple fire art. There was nothing concerning about this; Celine could do that in her sleep. But this guy couldn’t share the same sentiment.

When the small wisps of fire slowly started to come to life, the premature art was suddenly launched to the sky and the boy's knees failed him, dropping him to the ground. His eyes were wide, stricken by a terror from something that couldn't exist in their current peaceful environment. Celine’s sharp ears caught the sounds of his heart rapidly beating, his lungs hastily cycling through short breaths, and his voice hissing out that he was cold.

What… what was happening?

Horror and confusion struck her deep enough that she couldn’t move. She wouldn’t have been surprised if the boy lost consciousness right then and there. 

He didn’t. Instead, one his hands shifted toward the ground and started to tap harshly against the grass. This motion created an odd pattern of scrunching noises with the blades of grass; it almost sounded like a broken melody. Its meaning was lost on Celine, but it somehow calmed the human down. Eventually, the human returned to normal.

Celine was relieved. 

Until the stupid human decided to try to cast another fire art. 

She was confused and alarmed because did this stupid human not understand that fire was triggering him so much? She almost yelled in her human voice, trying to get him to stop. Admittedly, that was a bad idea because he accidentally almost roasted her before losing consciousness. 

She was not happy about that.

The boy woke up about ten minutes later. Celine scoffed, thinking he had learned his lesson and would return to the dorms. Unfortunately, this human was probably the most idiotic human in the world because he tried again, and again, and again. He kept attempting to cast the stupid fire art until only four hours remained before school would start.

And, to her absolute bafflement (and concern), he did it again the next night. And the next night. Every night. Without much progress. 

It hurt, watching this human practically kill himself. What was the purpose of this? Just to make some fire?

“...have to get better…” the boy mumbled to himself sometimes, answering Celine’s question.

The irony was that he was only getting worse. 

Celine didn’t know what to do. She didn’t understand why anyone would push themselves this much just to “get better.” She didn’t understand human emotions. She didn’t understand emotions, period. So, one day, she asked Emma what she knew about Rean’s problem with fire.

“He’s afraid of fire. It’s normal, everyone has fears.”

But was it normal to face one’s fears to the brink of a mental and physical shutdown? Celine didn’t voice her question, believing that Emma knew better because she was closer to the guy and probably understood him better than her. 

Since then, Celine watched Rean go through this normal routine every night. Watched him shake, collapse, cry, curse, and go insane like it was normal.

She then decided that she hated normal. She hated how intelligent beings thought this was normal. 

Good thing Celine was anything but normal, being a talking cat and all that. So when the human froze up and shook, she brushed her soft fur coat against his legs. At first, she didn’t know what this would achieve, but the boy snatched her and clutched her tight to his chest immediately, as if his life depended on it. This… calmed him much faster than usual. 

So she did it every single time, every single night he started to panic. If only to get him to sob and choke a little less.

Now, day broke once again. All the animals and monsters were emerging from their dens, none minding the odd burnt patch of grass here and there. None were aware of the exhausted duo; the cat lay in the hopeless boy's arms as he cursed about how much he hated himself. Celine couldn’t help but agree with him. Truth be told, she hated suffering. She understood that it was a consequence of one's duty, but she still hated it. Who needed duty when people could just be comfortable and take catnaps all the time? 

She was a hypocrite. She willingly shared Rean's suffering as part of her duty to watch over the potential Awakener. And she knew she would follow her duty to guide the true Awakener no matter what obstacles they came across.

But even still, wasn't what Rean was doing a little too much?

As Celine painfully watched the boy tiredly drag himself back to dorms, she couldn't help but silently beg him to never come back out here.

Please, stop pushing yourself.

Stop hurting yourself.

No more crying.

No more struggling.

For once, just let go and relax like a cat under the sun.

For just a moment.

 

Please.

 

She hated humans. She hated humans who caused more suffering. She hated humans who brought more suffering upon themselves. She hated everything.

Out of everything to hate, however, Celine decided she hated Rean Schwarzer the most. 

 

...

 

Celine hoped Rean wasn’t the Awakener.

She didn’t want him to push himself more. Aidios knew he couldn't handle it.

Notes:

Oh Crow, trying to dig up Rean's secrets will only lead to your downfall~ On this note though, the infamous 50 Mira scene pretty much doesn't exist (tragic). Aidios knows how that may influence the events of the second game.

Rean: *talks about Class VII interpersonal relationships*
Also Rean: *doesn't mention himself*
._.

Celine is 100% going to be a therapy cat even though she ain't happy with that.

---Actual Author's Notes---

Writing Crow and Celine's perspectives on Rean was interesting. They're part of the few people who've noticed something off. Crow is capable of seeing that Rean has a facade (having a facade himself). Meanwhile Celine has access to seeing an unfiltered Rean.

Other than them, only three people associated with Class VII have noticed something *very* wrong with Rean (because of their own unique abilities or experiences). Have you figured out who?

Til next time where we have the first field study! Canonically, that's when Rean uses his first S-Craft (which involves flames). Will he be able to pull it off? *Nervous laughter*

Please let me know what you think in the comments! Take care!

Chapter 4: A Lasting Warmth

Sara was drunk. Nothing unusual there. This time, however, she didn’t intend to be drunk. Now THAT was unusual. She just happened to be at the wrong place at the absolute WORST time when Thomas roped both her and Neithardt to drink together.

Yeah… That had been a biiiiiiig mistake on her part. 

So here she was, terribly drunk, while finalizing the groups for Class VII’s field studies. Yup, nothing could go wrong here, she thought as she absentmindedly chugged another glass of beer.

Ahhh... that hit the spot.

Anyway, it was fine, she did more serious stuff while under the influence anyway! There was no way she could screw up that badly. 

…And that was how an innocent looking paper with innocent looking words came into existence in front of her.

[Group A] Rean, Alisa, Gaius, Emma

[Group B] Machias, Jusis, Laura, Fie, Elliot

Yup, this was totally not a recipe for disaster. It made sense… in her intoxicated mind. 

Many of these pairs had some sort of conflict, ranging from mild to spicy hot, and what better solution was there than to stick them all together? Sure, Machias and Jusis despised each other because of class differences. And sure, Laura and Fie didn't get along because of their different mindsets. It was nothing good ol’ power of friendship couldn’t handle! They just needed to get to know each other better. 

It was that easy!

Plus, Jusis, Machias, and Laura all had a sense of responsibility. As if they would let their differences with their classmates get in the way of getting the job done! Ah, but just for some insurance, she added Elliot in their group. Elliot was lucky for having absolutely no tension with any of his classmates, so he would be the lucky one to help mediate this catastrophic group.

As for the pairs of the other group… they were less hostile and more awkward. And, unlike the Jusis-Machias and Laura-Fie pairs, Sara had absolutely no clue why. They all had complementary personalities, they were all “outsiders” to Erebonia’s social class conflict, and they all acted friendly to each other. No visible issues anywhere. 

Yet why did Sara sense something brewing between them?

Emma was patient, responsible, and helpful. She was a great student all around and it was no wonder no one had any issues with her. Well, no one except Gaius. Now that was baffling because he was the most understanding, dependable, and relaxed guy around. Who could be weird with him? Heck, just being around his presence was therapeutic. 

So how could these two students with non-conflicting personalities or goals have issues with each other ?

It was barely, barely noticeable. But Emma was avoiding Gaius and neither were doing anything to change that. That was uncharacteristic of them. So of course Sara put them in the same group together, if only to hope they removed whatever was going on between them.

As for the other pair, they were unusually distant. Sara thought their issue was because of an “unfortunate” accident that happened on the first day of school. However, the more she thought about it, the more she got confused. 

In general Alisa was a bit cold to people she didn’t know, but she would eventually warm up them. Sara thought that Alisa was still in the “cold” stage for Rean because of that incident, but she heard that they had made up on the first day of school. Almost a month had passed and there was still an unusual amount of distance between them.

It took her a long time to realize that it wasn’t Alisa who was avoiding Rean. It was actually becoming apparent that the girl wanted to spend more time around him. No, in reality, Rean was the one avoiding Alisa. As annoying as that was, she was actually glad that this was the case (despite how much it befuddled her even more). 

Sara considered herself a good judge of character. Being a former jaeger and a former bracer forced her to interact with a lot of good (and bad) people. She had to know how to read people in order to survive or in order to stay away from too much trouble. Observing Rean, however, she couldn’t get a grasp on his character.

He was blank. Blanker than Emma’s background records (which were really blank). He always did what he was told and nothing else. The kid got good grades because teachers wanted him to. He helped other people out because they wanted his help. He got along with other people because those people wanted to get along. While that was good and all, Sara could only conclude that Rean was an obedient type of person. However, that observation in itself didn’t reveal much because she still didn’t understand his will .

She did not believe that one's only will was to follow other people's wills.

She would be an awful instructor for saying this, but she wanted Rean to disobey or rebel just so she could figure him out.

It just so happened that avoiding Alisa was technically an act of rebellion. No one wanted him to do this. He did this of his own will. This was the only insight that Sara had into Rean’s “true” character. So of course she would stick them in the same group just to ease the tension between the two and finally learn something about the boy.

As an instructor, it was her duty to get these children on the right track; this involved having to understand them. Though, in Rean’s case, there were many other reasons why she was hellbent in trying to see past his surface.

First, there was something familiar about the guy; she couldn't put her finger on what though. She had the feeling that she had drank with the guy before… even though that notion was absurd because Rean was such a stickler for the rules that he wouldn’t underage drink. 

Another reason was because she had a gut feeling that the kid was key to uniting this class together. He had connections to both commoners and nobility, he had great communication skills, and was capable of motivating and understanding people. He just needed to break out of his shell to effectively use those skills of his own accord. 

The last reason was that it seemed like there was something fragile about Rean. He somehow reminded her of some civilians who were on the verge of breaking down because of their problems. It was strange to get that feeling from Rean, considering he always had a calm exterior, but Sara was never one to ignore her instincts.

And that was the reason why he was not in a group with disaster pairs like Jusis-Machias and Laura-Fie. She wanted to get a sense of his stability before testing to see if he could help them to get along.

(She did hope that those four could somehow sort out their differences by themselves like the mature kids that they were. Come on students, let the power of friendship save the day once again!)

Her thoughts sounded kind of funny. Why did she think Rean would make a good leader when she also thought he had to be handled delicately? Fragile Leader . That sounded like a terrible paradox to only end in failure that her drunken mind couldn’t process.

Which was why she didn’t bother thinking too hard about it. 

Leaning back against her chair, Sara lazily glanced at the piece of paper in front of her one more time. 

Hmm… she needed to make one teensy-tiny change.

[Group A] Alisa, Emma, Gaius, Rean

[Group B] Fie, Elliot, Jusis, Laura, Machias

There, she rearranged it in alphabetical order. Now it wasn’t so obvious that these groups weren't just made because of their awful dynamics!

Hehe… she was so drunk. 

Heh. 

 

---

---

 

The mysterious schoolhouse stood imposingly before Rean. Faintly, he could sense that the aura shifted from the schoolhouse since he was last here. The energy flowing from the depths of the building slightly pulsed as if it was welcoming him or maybe even warning him to stay away.

This was where a Divine Knight slumbered. Unfortunately his dad hadn’t revealed what the Divine Knight’s name was, saying that Rean would figure it out once he became the Awakener. 

Become the Awakener of a Divine Knight. That was the reason they gave Ishmelga for putting Rean in this school. It was certainly necessary in the eyes of the cursed entity, needing all seven Divine Knights to be awoken so they could all merge into one power. However, for his dad’s secret plan, Rean would use this Divine Knight to defeat Ishmelga and destroy the curse once and for all.

No pressure there.

Taking slow steps to the front doors, Rean wondered if the Divine Knight would even choose him as its awakener. There were many better candidates than himself. What if he wasn’t chosen? Or what if he failed the trials? Deep in his worries, he absentmindedly unlocked the doors with the keys given to him by Principal Vandyke. 

He opened the doors and took one step in before he froze in his tracks. With a frown, he took his ARCUS unit out of his pocket and gripped it firmly. Should he ask his classmates for help? 

But he didn’t want to bother anyone.

Not like they should waste their time to help him.

He didn't deserve it. 

In the midst of his deepest worries, his senses barely registered the quick pair of footsteps, each full with intent, zoning towards him.

"SCHWARZER!"

What completely broke him out of his thoughts wasn't the call of his adopted name. Instead, it was the blunt impact that smacked harshly against his shoulder.

Instinctively, Rean slightly unsheathed a couple rege of his sword as he turned around to face his attacker, only to find an unfamiliar boy wearing the white uniform for nobility, aura radiating hostility. In the student’s hand was a sheathed sword, most likely the blunt object that struck his shoulder.

"Resorting to violence already? I guess the rumors of you being possessed by a demon is true." Sea-green eyes pierced him from under the mop of light brown hair on the noble. "No wonder your family chained you to your room and hid you from everyone's eyes for a few years."

Rean carefully hid the tension in his arms as he sheathed his sword and hung it back against his hip. Change the topic, change the topic— “May I help you, erm…” His mind raced, trying to match this guy’s face with any of his memories. 

Nothing was surfacing.

“I suppose this is the first time we're meeting. Heard of the Henzel barony?" he mockingly laughed. "Ha, forgive me for the silly question. Of course you have, my house is quite popular after all! I’m the youngest son, Alphonse Henzel. Be grateful I came out of my way to finally formally meet you." Alphonse finished his sentence with a huff, condescendingly glaring down at Rean even with their one rege height difference. “You on the other hand, how rude of you to not know me. My house is well acquainted with your family, and I’m especially familiar with your sister.”

Lilac eyes narrowed as his fingers slightly twitched on the hilt of his sword. Despite the cold chill that stilled his bones for a moment, he offered Alphonse a kind smile. “My apologies, I wasn’t in the right state of mind back then.”

“Pathetic excuse only worthy of a filthy commoner like you.” The noble rolled his eyes and sighed. “And to think that I might one day have to call scum like you my brother in law. How deplorable.”

What.

The surprise must’ve been clear on his face, judging by the other's smug grin. “Oh, you didn’t know? I have been courting Elise the moment she debuted in society as a grown woman. Though I shouldn't be surprised by your ignorance, considering you were disgracefully absent from her debutante.” 

Rean’s mind stuttered. Elise’s fifteenth birthday celebration with the public was on a weekday. He remembered the day clearly, discreetly patrolling the perimeter of the event as the Ashen Saint. Whatever actually happened between his family and all the other nobles was beyond him.

“I feel so bad for Elise. For such a wonderful noble flower to have a brute like you as a brother… I can’t imagine how much pain that causes her.”

At that, Rean’s smile faltered. Oh he knew… And he still had so many regrets about that…

Distracted by some empty memories between him and his sister, he missed how Alphonse had darkly mouthed a few words under his breath.

“Oh, if only you were out of the way…”

After half a minute, Rean finally managed to shake himself free of his thoughts and noticed that Henzel was still standing there in front of him, watching and waiting for something.

“Well…” he shifted his eyes away from Alphonse and shamefully admitted, “I agree with you that I haven’t been the best older brother or son for the Schwarzers, but I am trying better to keep them happy—”

“Oh, how wonderful!” Alphonse’s demeanor suddenly changed to its polar opposite, the noble grinning with cheer and tightly grabbing Rean’s hand. Rean bit out a tighter smile, hiding any discomfort as their hands were forced to shake and the noble spoke kindly once again. “Since you care so much about your family, I take it that your interests lie with whatever actions are made to keep them happy and successful?”

 “Yes..?”

“Then it appears that our interests align! We’re on the same side.” His hand was released. “It was a pleasure getting to know you, Rean. Hopefully, we will work together in the future for the prosperity of the Schwarzer household!”

Rean only chuckled hollowly as he watched Alphonse turn around and head back to the main school building.

Yeah… He was going to have to ask for a background check on this Alphonse Henzel guy… 

After taking a long, deep breath, he turned around and pushed the door open again. It was then that he sensed multiple presences approaching him. 

“Rean!” 

He looked back to see Alisa jog toward him until she was only a couple arge away from. There were two familiar people following her, making his brow raise a bit in confusion. He’d caught the attention of an usual group of people. “Going into the Old Schoolhouse?”

He nodded politely. He didn’t want to interact with Alisa any more than he had to because he always felt more guilty around her. He didn’t ever want to be around if she ever talked about memories of her “deceased” father. There was no way he could tell her that he felt sorry when he actually knew the truth. If she ever found out that he knew her father was “alive” this entire time… yeah he didn’t want to think about it.

“So this is the guy who’s been stealing the attention of my childhood friend and best friend!” Exclaimed the violet-haired girl following Alisa as she leaned close to him; only a few rege separated their faces as she inspected him. 

Too close. 

Despite his discomfort, Rean could identify the girl. She was Angelica Rogner, daughter of Marquis Gerhart Rogner. She looked… astonishingly different from the pictures of her that would sometimes pop up in the newspaper. Judging by her full black leather clothing, it seemed like she had no care for noble traditions.

“My, aren’t you a cutie~ No wonder Crow’s so—”

Said guy pulled her away, cutting off her sentence, while Alisa just sighed at the girl’s antiques. “Ignore Angie,” Crow muttered before slipping an easy-going smirk on his face. “How’s my favorite junior doing?”

Oh Aidios. He was still recovering from the violet-haired girl’s comment that he was cute. He wasn’t cute! Ah… but he guessed the haircut Elise gave him made him seem cute. Yeah, that was probably it. And then his thoughts finally caught up with the guy’s words. 

He was joking, right?

These second-years were dangerous. They casually threw so many compliments at him! He didn’t know what to do with all these compliments! They were also too relaxed, getting so close to him as if they were friends. He remembered that he almost ran off and dug a hole to bury himself in when Crow had slung an arm around him yesterday. 

All these friendly compliments and closeness were all so overwhelming. All so wasted on him.

“Good,” Rean replied normally, as if he didn’t have internal turmoil. 

Oh and Crow was doing the arm-around-the-shoulders thing again. He tried to keep his shoulders relaxed, not wanting to alert the upperclassman. It helped that there was a dull ache of pain from where Alphonse had hit him so he could focus on that rather than the sensation of being close with someone else though. He still felt like running away, but at least he didn’t necessarily want to dig himself into a hole. Not yet.

(...At least it felt better than that handshake Alphonse forced him into earlier.)

“Do you have business in this old building?” Angelica asked while peeking through the doors. Nothing she saw caught her interest, and Rean would like to keep it that way. 

“Principal Vandyke asked me to conduct an investigation on the Old Schoolhouse.” Not to mention there was a Divine Knight waiting for someone to do the trial. But they didn’t need to know that.

Alisa also glanced inside the schoolhouse. Nothing had changed as far as anyone could tell. Shifting her ruby eyes to look back at Rean, she asked, “Need a hand?”

“I’m good. Nothing should have changed since we were last here; I wouldn’t want you to waste your time,” he politely rejected her offer, not noticing the crimson gaze that snapped to him. 

Crow hummed, deep in thought. The next second, the silver-haired man let go of Rean and strolled into the building with a bounce in his step. Like he was expecting a wild adventure in this dusty old building that shouldn’t have anything new. “Who knows, maybe you’ll find a Shiny Pom down here. I wouldn’t mind receiving some of those goods by helping you out~”

“Some training would do me some good,” Angie added, pumping her fists while following her friend into the building.

What?

How had things escalated so quickly? These people were offering him help like it was candy!

Like it was no problem?

“Seriously, can’t you guys stop thinking about yourselves for once?” Alisa sighed before she turned to Rean once again. “Your investigation will go faster if you have more pairs of eyes to look around, right? I really don’t mind helping out; I’m already done with my club and studies.”

Honestly, Rean would prefer it if people followed their selfish desires than intentionally helped him out. “Weren’t you three doing something together? I wouldn’t want to disturb your plans,” he said, trying to make a last ditch effort to persuade them to leave. 

“You aren’t disturbing anything.” Crow returned to the doors only to grab Rean and Alisa by the arms and drag them inside. Oh Aidios this was too close again. “I was just flirting with some girls, then Angie stole those girls from me, then this blonde-haired chick chased those girls away from her. And then we saw you and decided to see what you were up to. Basically: We’re all so lonely and would love to enjoy your lovely company~”

“I have a name you know!” Alisa huffed, crossing her arms. She paused, getting a little embarrassed when the silver-haired teen only confusedly blinked at her. She then bit her lip, flustered. “Oh, right. You don’t know. My name’s Alisa R.”

“Crow Armbrust. Happy to be of service~” he exaggeratedly winked at her, adding a ridiculous flirtatious edge to his smirk.

“Ugh, you’re just like Angie. Dealing with one was a handful, but dealing with two? Zemuria won’t last!” Alisa muttered. “Also, I didn’t chase anyone off! I was simply correcting some of their assumptions about Angie… and then they left.”

“Oh, woe is me!” Angelica enacted a dramatic fainting motion, receiving some eye-rolls from her companions. “How can I ever get my significant other if both of my friends are so unsupportive of my desired relationships?” 

Crow nonchalantly waved off her ‘distress’. “Karma’s a bitch, Angie. This is what you get for always stealing all the girls from me.” 

The girl sighed, feigning betrayal, before she reached out and wrapped her arms around Rean’s arm. “Oh, kind stranger! Surely you sympathize with me!”

Ah, too close again. Rean would like to reiterate that second-years were dangerous. “You can call me Rean. And uh… I’ll make no comment on that.” While he was trying to relax, he was unaware of the two pairs of gleaming red eyes that focused on their linked arms for different reasons.

“Name's Angelica! But you can call me Angie~” She finally released him from her grasp, settling for a simple wink at him. “I’m not usually into guys, but you’re cute, so you could be an exception~”

Getting used to the second-year’s overly friendly behavior, Rean took that compliment as a joke or something she just said to everyone. Or perhaps her actions were just to rile him (the others) up. His response to her was a simple nervous chuckle, having no clue how to react. And because he didn’t know how to act with all these people who acted so close, he started to feel even more out of place than usual. 

Yeah, he really shouldn’t be here with them— 

“Alright Reanie, go lead the way,” the silver-haired teen patted him on the shoulder while the others looked at him encouragingly. 

He sighed, supposing his wish to do this alone did not matter anymore. These people were uncontrollable forces to be reckoned with. Even if he did refuse them, they probably wouldn’t listen to him. 

---

As expected, the old schoolhouse's interior changed drastically. The layout of the dungeon was completely rearranged as if it wanted to lead to a new destination. All the monsters inhabiting the area were also different. And very difficult. Not only did they stick together in larger groups, but they were significantly stronger than the monsters they had encountered on the first day of school.

Did the trial tune the strength of its monsters to the Awakener’s power? Rean definitely couldn’t hold back anymore. He was glad he didn’t ask Elliot and Gaius for help, uncertain that they would be able to handle this. However, he still had to deal with the people who did accompany him. 

Angelica was as drained as Rean, always staying on the frontlines, holding the attention of half of the monsters, and making sure none reached the ranged combatants. Crow was in the best shape out of all of them, never getting hit from his distance while providing cover for the close-ranged fighters. It was the same for Alisa, but she didn’t have as much stamina as the rest; in fact, she was the most exhausted. 

Looking at them, Rean regretted how they had accompanied him. They could be relaxing outside, enjoying a meal on this nice day. However, Rean did wonder how he would have been able to clear this level by himself. The only way would have been to rely on his ogre form… but he’d rather not rely on that. It was still too… uncontrollable.

(He had a nagging feeling in the back of his head. Perhaps the trial was telling him he could not complete this by himself and needed the help of other people.)

(He ignored that thought.)

“Phew! We’ve finally cleared the area! Shall we take a rest?” asked Angelica, keeping a spring in her step despite her labored breathing. Immediately, Crow dropped to the floor. Alisa followed, but she was more graceful about it. Rean kept himself at a slightly greater distance from the others.

“How can you guys keep up?” Alisa heavily breathed out, wiping off sweat as she took out a bottle of water to drink from. “I thought the monsters from the orienteering exercise were hard, but this is just extreme!”

“We’re upperclassmen for a reason: We’re old AND reliable!” Crow gleefully answered.

“That doesn’t answer my question at all!” Rean had to agree with her on that. 

“It’s true though,” Angelica smirked as she fist-bumped her male friend. 

Alisa shot them both annoyed glares before her eyes landed on Rean, gaze softening. Did she misinterpret his distance from her? “Sorry about how I used flame-based attacks earlier… I forgot that you’re not comfortable with fire.”

Ah. So that was why she had recently only used space-based arts. She was holding back for him, just as he feared. “It’s fine. It’s not much trouble, especially when we’re linked up.” It was absolutely necessary for them to be linked up. He had to know at all times when she was creating a fire and where she was directing it at.

Speaking of links, Rean finally figured out why he was so unsettled by the combat link feature. He had a problem with how it allowed him to catch a glimpse of his partner’s emotions. He could tell when Alisa was upset, stressed, or in pain. He could also tell when she felt victorious or happy. That wasn’t necessarily bad, but… it kind of made him feel emptier every time she expressed a positive emotion. Despite how faint her feelings were (there was only so much new technology and a level one combat link could do), her shared emotions were still more powerful than most of his own.

This overwhelmed him. It made him feel like he was missing something.

This sensation was similar to how he felt about fire. Every time he was too near a flame, he could feel the warmth for just a second. And then it would all suddenly vanish, leaving him even colder than before. 

Thankfully, however, he didn’t have as bad of a reaction to the ARCUS link. 

He hoped it stayed that way. 

“Oh right, Alisa.” Thinking about it, this was a perfect opportunity to ask her a question that had been on his mind for a while. “Do you know what happened between Laura and Fie? And Gaius and Emma?”

The blonde-haired girl paused. Her lips turned into a frown. “I don’t know the exact details why they’re behaving the way they do, but I guess I can provide context that might help:

“I was still traveling with Laura and Emma when I saw Machias dash right past us. He didn’t seem to be paying attention to his surroundings because he ran into a monster. We tried to warn him, but it was too late... The monster inflicted a very deep gash on his shoulder.” 

Alisa paused and shuddered, repulsed at the sight she remembered. She was still not used to seeing so much blood. After a few moments, she continued her story. 

“Gaius arrived and he helped Laura kill the monster, but then we were all suddenly ambushed by a large group of monsters. We might’ve been beaten if Fie didn’t appear and toss a grenade at the monsters, stunning all of them. After all the monsters were slain, Fie admitted that she used to be a jaeger. Meanwhile, Emma completely healed Machias’ shoulder with her grandmother’s medicine… Since then, the four of them have been acting weird.”

It wasn’t hard to assume that Laura took issue with Fie’s status as a former jaeger. The other two though… Rean couldn’t think of an issue between them. Maybe Gaius was offended by Emma’s grandmother’s medicine? No, that sounded ridiculous. 

“Thanks for telling me.” He gave her a polite bow and smile.

Alisa sighed, sounding frustrated. “Geez, I’ve been trying to come up with plans to try to get them to make up. But none of it's been working!”

Angelica chuckled, “Awww… Does Class VII have drama?” A devilish smirk spread across her face as she narrowed her eyes at Crow. “I remember when you were such a drama queen because you were acting like such an edgy, brooding—” She was interrupted when her friend literally launched himself at her and they tumbled down to the ground. 

“Hey! Don’t ruin my reputation any more than you already have!” Crow hissed as he engaged in a wrestling match with the girl. That was an awful decision on his part, considering Angelica was more experienced with close combat. In the end, she won the wrestling match, a teasing and victorious grin embraced her features while Crow lay in defeat.

“You guys are such children!” Alisa exclaimed indignantly, throwing her hands down in annoyance. She stood up, heading toward the entrance of the next area. “Rean, let’s go before they act like even bigger idiots!”

“Awwww, Alisa, are you feeling left out? Do you want me to tell them how you—”

“We’re going!” Her unusually loud voice drowned out her childhood friend’s teasing remarks. 

Huh.

Rean almost chuckled for real.

---

The rest of the dungeon wasn’t bad once they got adjusted to the difficulty. They rested again once they reached a clear area with an orbment charging station. Looking at the time, Rean realized that they have been down here for over two hours now, marking the beginning of the evening. Hesitantly, he spoke, bringing everyone’s attention to him. “It’s pretty late now. If you all want to leave now, you can.” 

Crow hummed, a mischievous glint flashed in his crimson eyes. “Ohhhhh, I see your game plan. You want to kick us out before the final boss so you can reap its reward for yourself~”

No—What? “Why do you think there’s a final boss ahead of us?”

“Why else would we have a resting spot in the middle of a dungeon?” the teen nonchalantly crossed his arms behind his head, using them as a pillow as he laid on the ground. “To prepare us for the boss monster!”

“Crow, that doesn’t make sense,” Angelica yawned from where she was sitting. Her hands were currently focused on tinkering with her orbments. 

“I just don’t want this to take up so much of your time.” A slight frown graced his face. The more time they spent here with him, the guiltier he felt. In the end, this was his duty, not theirs. They had no obligation to continue being here. 

Alisa chose this moment to sit across from him, her eyes locked onto his. “Like I said, I don’t mind helping you out. We’re friends after all, Rean. Plus, if we left now, you would take longer to finish this dungeon… Not to mention, I’d be worried for your safety.”

What? Friends? She thought they were friends? But he’d been keeping his distance from her! Well, he’d only been avoiding her whenever he wasn’t helping her out with studying or chores or whatever— but still! Why would she want to call him her friend?

“Yeah, Rean, learn to rely on people for once! There are a lot of things impossible to do by yourself. But the impossible turns possible when you depend on others. That’s the power of friendship— at least, that’s what Instructor Sara offhandedly calls it,” Angelica chuckled fondly as she flashed him an earnest smile.

Power of friendship? That sounded absurd— 

“It sounds cringey and ridiculous and sappy,” Crow spoke up, sounding like he read his thoughts. “But you can’t deny that it’s effective. Not to insult you or anything, but it would have been impossible for you to finish this floor in two hours by yourself. However, with our help, it became possible. Capisce?”

Okay, that was true. As silly as it sounded, the ‘power of friendship’ made sense in simple terms. At least, for simple things like clearing a dungeon.

(He briefly thought about how it might possibly help him get over his aversion to fire.)

(He killed that thought immediately.)

Rean smiled and nodded, understanding the concept but not planning on applying it anytime soon. He stood up, signaling that he was ready to fight this ‘final boss’. The others followed his lead.

---

Out of thin air, a large monster in the form of an eight-headed snake appeared in the center of the final room. At first, the boss wasn’t that bad. It mainly attacked with bites and damaging breath attacks. The most annoying thing about it was that it almost always inflicted paralysis and poison status effects on whoever it attacked, but it wasn’t that bad because Alisa could cure it quickly.

Besides its massive health and stamina, this boss was fairly easier to handle than the groups of monsters that ambushed them earlier in the dungeon. Rean could easily defeat this on his own.

Except he couldn’t.

Because once he sliced off two of their heads, one of the snake heads sunk its teeth deep into Rean’s left shoulder, holding him in place. That was typical of its behavior; this wound could be healed later. As expected of the monster’s attack pattern, the other heads faced him, preparing for a breath attack. He braced himself. Again, this was nothing a good tear and curia art couldn’t fix.

Ah… but something was different this time. Whenever they prepared their breath attack, he could usually see sparks of poison or electricity build up at the back of all the snakes' throats. Here, he could see… embers.

It was preparing to blast him with flames.

Oh no.

This was not good. Not good at all. He needed to get out of here— Or maybe he could try to slice off its other heads while he was like this? Sure, he couldn’t use his left arm at the moment but—

Stuck between the choices of fight or flight, Rean’s body completely froze in place. He couldn’t move. He couldn't do anything. 

He would surely die right now.

“REAN!”

A well aimed arrow pierced through the snake attached to his shoulder, releasing him from its fangs. Immediately afterwards, Rean was dragged away by a familiar touch at this point. He felt his back touching a wall while he vaguely registered how the monster was knocked back by a brutal punch. 

“Hey, get your head back in the game, Rean!” the silver-haired teen yelled, executing a quick wind art to bring relief to the injured shoulder. 

Rean blinked rapidly, desperately trying to focus on the images in front of him. This was no time to get lost in his head! Shakily, he stood up, having to lean slightly against the guy next to him. “I’m alright,” he gulped as he watched the monster prepare to blast a ball of fire toward Alisa. She was only able to avoid it because Crow managed to just cast frost edge at the flames, slowing and weakening it just enough for her to jump out of the way in time. Looking to the side, Rean realized that Angelica was completely paralyzed. 

Great, their formation was completely ruined because of him. 

With the monster still distracted by Alisa, Rean used this opportunity to slice off a couple more of its heads. Then, he immediately bolted away from the monster because no way was he going to possibly get caught up in a flame attack. 

It was fine. The monster’s attacks were predictable now, so Rean could tell when he could get up close or when he had to keep his distance; he was still an effective fighter no matter the distance between him and his enemy. Eventually, the party returned to a comfortable formation (with a little adjustment on Rean’s part). 

Not long after, the monster was finally slain. 

...

Well, that was awful.

Rean would have died if the others weren’t here with him. He would have died because of his stupid fear of fire. He would have failed everyone.

And yet...

“Woo! We did it everyone!” Alisa cheered, high-fiving Angelica and Crow. 

...Why was everyone celebrating? They should be scolding him for almost ruining everything!

“That was awesome!” Angelica grinned as she high-fived Crow. “I haven’t had my blood pumping like that in ages!”

Why were they pretending like he wasn’t a problem?

“Yeah, we did good. Look at all this sepith we got! Time to use it to fund my gambling~” Crow turned to him and raised his hand, expecting Rean to reciprocate the high-five.

No, he didn’t do good. He didn’t do good at all.

Right?

But if that were the case, why did Crow look so satisfied when Rean high-fived him back (only because he didn’t want to leave the guy hanging)? Why did Alisa look so happy when he high-fived her? Why did Angelica say “Hey, don’t forget me!” just so he would high-five her?

 

Why?

 

He didn’t dare voice his questions. He didn’t want to dampen the mood. 

---

As the group journeyed out of the Old Schoolhouse (all tired yet more cheerful than when they had entered), Rean kept his eyes glued on the hand that had high-fived everyone. 

 

It was warm.

 

And unlike the fleeting warmth from the flames, the warmth from their hands wasn’t leaving.

...How strange...

Notes:

I'm so sorry! I know I said we'd be at Celdic now, but this honestly deserved its own chapter!

Sara NOOOO. This is why you don't work while drunk! Ah, this woman was SO much fun to write. Heh... she was so drunk that she messed up the alphabetical order too.

---Actual Author's Notes---

The Rean-Alisa-Crow-Angelica team was never planned. At first it was just going to be Rean and Alisa. But I needed a little chaos, so I added cooperative chaotic people. And I have no regrets.

As you've noticed in this chapter, Sara is one of the three Class VII people who has noticed something off about Rean. Like Crow, she has met so many people and has great observation skills-especially when it comes to people (In canon, she figured out Rean's issue by this time).

Two more people to go~ I'll give you a hint: one is in Group A while the other is in Group B. Feel free to make or change your guesses!

Speaking of groups... Did anyone else do a double take when they saw the two VERY different and awful groups? Celdic will be super interesting. Bareahard will be SUPER interesting. Can't wait to write those chapters! :D

Take care~

Chapter 5: Defining Friendship

Notes:

Thank you for your patience. This chapter was fun but also pretty hard to write... and it ended up being twice the length of my usual chapters. Enjoy!

Oh yeah, warning for some blood.

Even on days when the clouds let out their heaviest tears and the sky shook with devastating strikes of lightning, life at Nord Highlands could only be best described as a gentle breeze when compared to the hurricane that life with Class VII was. Gaius was used to peace; his home rarely experienced conflict amongst themselves and the military men of the Erebonia and Calvard bases were fairly nice. While he was aware of the conflict the two nations had with each other and its potential effect on his own home, he couldn’t really ‘see’ it. 

Barring the growing international issues, the most conflict he had to deal with was his brother’s knack for getting in trouble. Really, Thoma had a great heart, but he had a tendency to prioritize everyone before himself which often resulted in him not taking enough care of himself. This trait was a little concerning, but Thoma had reassured him that he would take better care of himself while Gaius studied at Thors. 

While he never outwardly showed it, Gaius was overwhelmed on the first day of school. There were many problems that he couldn’t quite wrap his head around. He tried his best to be understanding since he needed an open mind to see the darkness that could ruin his homeland, but the effort was surprisingly difficult. The social issues between noble and commoner barely made any sense to him because no such hierarchy existed in his tribe. The revelation that Fie used to be a jaeger was somewhat alarming, but he didn’t mind as long as she didn’t intend to hurt anyone. The classmates who knew somewhat agreed with him, but Laura seemed to take her existence as a personal offense. 

Gaius truly wanted to help them get along. Unfortunately, without the ability to understand their issues at the core, he knew it wasn’t his place to dig too deep into their problems. The least he could do was keep peace and make sure they didn’t attack each other. 

Peacekeeping was certainly something he was capable of doing… even when he developed a couple of his own “conflicts.”

Taking his seat on the train bound for Celdic, Gaius glanced at the two classmates who caught most of his attention: Emma and Rean. Across from him, Emma either seemed to find the roof of the train car very interesting or she was making an obvious attempt to look at anything except Gaius. Meanwhile, sitting next to him, Rean seemed to be on the verge of taking a nap, judging by the way his head frequently dipped and his eyes fluttered closed.

He closed his eyes, replaying in his mind how he had seen Emma use her “medicine” to heal Machias back at the schoolhouse on the first day. He was fairly familiar with the Church's traditional medicine-making because he sometimes helped Father Barkhorn make medicine whenever he visited. Being spiritually attuned to the flow of winds and energies in the atmosphere, Gaius could also feel a “shift” in the energies when Emma used her “medicine.” So whatever she did, it was definitely not normal. What she actually did sort of reminded him of a practice Father Barkhorn once did in the past, when Gaius had accidentally found himself in more trouble than he bargained for. 

He wondered if she was somehow connected to the church.

Suddenly feeling a weight drop on his shoulder, Gaius opened his eyes in surprise. The sight before him almost made his lips twitch up. Apparently Rean finally succumbed to slumber and was using Gaius’ shoulder as a pillow. He didn’t mind too much since his younger brother used to do this all the time. 

In fact, Rean reminded him of his brother a little too much, having the same trait as Thoma in that they both put others’ well-being over themselves. Though Rean’s tendency for this behavior seemed to be more extreme and unhealthy, often stealing away a lot more time and energy from himself than he would like to admit. Sometimes his older-brother instincts would hit him with the force and speed of this train whenever the bags under those lilac eyes grew larger, wanting him to force the boy to get some rest.

The only reason he didn’t let these instincts go crazy was because of his own self control and because his sixth sense constantly screamed at him that something wasn’t right with the boy. Despite Rean’s friendly and kind personality, his ‘spiritual presence’ was awfully foul, being able to strangle all the gentle breezes surrounding him. It was as if a dark miasma clung to him, keeping an oath of destruction that whispered to Gaius’ senses.

When Gaius first met him, he almost couldn’t breathe. His sense for these things was rarely wrong and it simply told him that Rean was evil without explanation. 

He noticed that the darkness around his classmate seemed to grow worse whenever he was exposed to fire, and he was worried that Rean would snap and show his true colors. His worries had been unfounded when he saw his classmate almost have a breakdown when Machias convinced him to use a fire art. From that moment onward, Gaius concluded that Rean’s mysterious presence did not necessarily indicate malice, instead it was a sign that he was troubled, that he needed help.

Gaius didn’t take any extreme actions, uncertain of what to do in the first place. He figured it would be best to observe first so he could avoid pushing his classmate’s buttons too much. He followed Elliot’s lead in befriending the boy and they all frequently ended up eating ice cream and having study sessions together. Here and there, they shared enjoyable silences and cooking disasters. He grew comfortable with Rean’s very strange presence and held pride in being able to call him one of his first friends in Erebonia. 

He hummed bemusedly to himself, deep in thought. Social conflicts, secrets, and dark presences… This nation sure had a lot of new things to offer. 

Suddenly, he felt a burning red gaze lock onto his own form. He shifted his attention to Alisa, taking a seat beside Emma. Judging by her expression, she was looking at both him and Emma, completely nonplussed. When she finally gained the girl’s attention, she smiled.

“Have either of you guys been to Celdic before?” Alisa had been trying to get them to hold a decent conversation with each other for weeks now, usually ending in Emma making up an excuse to leave early. Now that they were stuck in a train for a few hours, she had no means of escape this time. 

“I can’t say I have,” Gaius said, moving his gaze to rest on the plum-haired girl. “How about you, Emma?” 

“O-Oh… Umm…” She was normally a reserved person, but she was definitely more shy around him. “I haven’t either.” 

Alisa opened her mouth, ready to continue the conversation, but Emma cut her off. “Ah, I’m getting tired. I think I’ll take a nap right now.” She leaned her head against the glass of the window and closed her eyes. “Please wake me up when we arrive.”

Emma was a terrible liar, but no one had the will to call her out on her bluff.

Alisa leaned back, heaving a frustrated sigh. She turned to the side, looking at where their instructor was sitting from just across the aisle. “Geez, this is so awkward. Instructor Sara, just what were you thinking when you made these teams?”

Said woman grinned despite how she looked like she actually wanted to take a nap. “I put a lot of thought into those teams! I was totally not drunk during the process!”

By her tone, she definitely had been drunk. 

“But it’s not so bad! I didn’t expect you and Rean to investigate the schoolhouse together and get somewhat comfortable with each other! This is significantly better than what I had originally anticipated~” Instructor Sara teased, causing a faint blush to rise in the girl’s cheeks. 

“Comfortable? Don’t say things like that!” Alisa protested.

“If I had known this was going to happen, I would have switched your place with Elliot!”

Speaking of Elliot, Gaius was very concerned for his friend. Back at the train station when both groups were present, the boy seemed… ready to snap. Elliot had never been angry despite how frustrating the nobles behaved toward him or how intense schoolwork could be. The fact that he was losing patience before the field study even started just proved how special that group was. 

“Please tell me you’re joking.” Even Alisa, the person who had been actively trying her best to help everyone to get along, did not want to be stuck in that disaster group.

“Of course I’m joking!” A long pause. “Maybe.” Instructor Sara laughed as she slumped over the armrest of her seat. “Huh, I wonder if they destroyed the train yet…”

“Don’t laugh about that!” Alisa almost leaped out of her seat in exasperation. “Who in Aidios’ name hired you!?”  

“Heh~”

Gaius almost couldn’t hide his own chuckle. He had to admit, despite all the challenges this class was currently going through, they were certainly amusing to be a part of. 

He looked forward to their future together. 

 

---

---

 

Emma was not ready for any of this. 

Grandmother refused to tell her anything about what to expect or how to act. She simply said that her mission was to guide the Ashen Awakener at a certain location and to try to find hints about where Vita was without giving many details of how to do anything. 

It was kind of frustrating that her grandmother expected her to know how to do everything. Emma wasn’t Vita! She didn’t know how to instinctively follow steps to achieve a goal perfectly without a hundred page instructions manual. While she did have some confidence in her abilities, she knew that she was nothing compared to her older sister. For a mission as important as this, she needed help.

Distantly, she was aware that this was her grandmother’s way of giving her independence and setting her free to experience the outside world for herself. However, she couldn’t help but feel lost despite all the teachings she was given. She had grown up in Erin Village all her life, rarely interacting with outsiders. Now, she was thrust into a school setting and expected to blend in there… Was Grandmother crazy? Dealing with the Awakener was one thing, but having to fit in with everyone was completely outside her comfort zone. 

Celine told her to suck it up and befriend everyone so they could find the Awakener faster. With her kind and courteous personality, Emma found that she was easily able to befriend every member of Class VII. She didn’t have any issues with anyone and thus got along quite well with everyone without much issue. 

However, the closer she got with her classmates, the more she felt guilty about becoming friends with them. They opened themselves up to her and had no trouble expressing their interests and concerns. On the other hand, Emma, having most of her life influenced by her home with witches at Erin Village, could say almost nothing about her own life. 

It wasn’t fair to her classmates, but Emma wasn’t sure if she was allowed to reveal that she was a witch— or if it was even a good idea. If they found out that she was a witch… Well, she didn’t know what would happen. She didn’t know what today’s people thought of witches. Were witches feared nowadays or completely a myth? The worst case scenario would be like Fie’s situation: She would be shunned after her true identity was revealed. 

Unexpectedly, she had quickly begun to enjoy the company of her classmates and was happy to call them her friends. She didn’t want to lose it so soon, especially when it kept her mind off of Vita’s disappearance.

Not only would the experience of losing them be emotionally unpleasant, but it would also be detrimental to her mission. She needed to guide one of her classmates, whoever the Awakener was, through the Divine Knight Trial. For this, she needed everyone to trust her. Even if they didn’t really know her. 

(If she wasn’t so busy being swallowed up by her own guilt, she would have sensed that she wasn’t the only one in this class holding back deep secrets about themselves).

That was why she put an extra effort in avoiding Gaius. He had caught a glimpse of her secret. It didn’t help that he was also observant. While he didn’t talk as much as the others, he was undoubtedly absorbing every piece of information in front of him, allowing him to offer insight the others may have missed. Knowing this, she felt exposed under those blue eyes of his. She knew he was nice, but she also knew he was keeping an eye on her out of suspicion. He could very well be capable of uncovering her secret. 

Admittedly, Emma did not sleep at all on that train. The whole time, she kept her eyes closed as she listened to her classmates and her teacher talk and play card games with each other. Even when Rean woke up and panicked over having slept on Gaius’ shoulder, she still pretended to stay in slumber. She listened on with rapt attention as that was the only thing she could do at the moment. 

As time went on, the lonely feeling in her chest grew. 

---

When they parted ways with Instructor Sara and started working on the requests for their field study, Emma refused to link up with Gaius. Doing so would only get them closer— closer for him to find out her secret. 

As expected, Gaius accepted her proposal, a look of understanding crossing his eyes.  Meanwhile Alisa wanted to stammer in protest. 

“Can’t you at least try to work together?” her friend asked, a deep frown marred her face. 

Emma truly appreciated both their efforts to keep peace and harmony within the group, but she needed to protect her mission at all costs. “Judging by the link abilities that are available to us at the moment, it would be optimal for Rean and Gaius to link and for us to link, don’t you think?” 

“But—”

“It’s okay, Alisa. She’s right.” Rean eyed Emma carefully, understanding that she would not surrender her decision and that they would have to adjust to these conditions. “Until we get comfortable fighting the monsters here, I say we should keep our battle formation at its strongest.” He paused, giving his next words more thought. “Also, don’t hold back on your fire arts or crafts. It’s silly to not use fire against these monsters who are weak to it. It’s even sillier to not use any fire when three of us have fire attacks. Don’t worry about me, I’ll manage.”

Emma shot him a concerned look, along with the others. She hadn’t accounted for his fear of fire. Her mind flashed back to seeing him collapsed on the floor during the orientation exercise. Back then, he had looked pale and ready to pass out. 

She felt selfish now, not wanting to push Rean. But if he said he would be fine, then he would be fine. Who was she to doubt the words of her classmate?

Their coordination was unsurprisingly sloppy. Whenever Emma had to give support to Gaius, she took longer than usual, worried that she might somehow slip again and he would notice. Meanwhile, Rean’s movements were increasingly skittish whenever the telltale sign of a fire orbment was being used by either of the girls, leading to near-accidental friendly fires. Seeing this, she limited her use of fire arts, not quite convinced that he was entirely okay anymore. 

Despite how their results in battle were nothing close to impressive and barely acceptable, they were able to defeat all the monsters in their path without sustaining any significant injuries. She didn’t think it was necessary to take any more risks regarding her identity, so she believed that they could continue like this. 

They continued to clear the monsters on the road until they saw the ferocious monster that the field study request wanted them to defeat. The monster resembled a dinosaur and was three times Gaius’ size. Its most threatening features were its sharp fangs and claws. 

It was certainly more intimidating and sturdier-looking than any of the other monsters they fought so far. 

“Stay on guard, everyone!” Rean announced, shifting into an offensive stance. 

Pointing out the slight tremors in the boy’s fingers and his somewhat heavy breathing, Gaius suggested, “We can take a break first.”

Rean shook his head, smiling as if all was okay even though he looked the most exhausted out of all of them. “The sun will go down soon, allowing new monsters to fill up the highways again. After this fight, we might be too exhausted to deal with any of them, so I think it’ll be better if we handle this as soon as possible. I’ll be fine”

“Uhuh, sure,” Alisa did not look like she believed him, but couldn’t argue. 

After one minute of engaging in battle with the ‘Scary Dinosaur,’ Emma had to admit that fighting this monster wasn’t as bad as it seemed. While its bite attacks were powerful enough to make the air quake, it lacked speed. Rean and Gaius could attack twice before the monster could move again, and Emma was given enough time to recover whatever damage they took while Alisa kept everyone energized and provided extra support.

With the way things were going, the team would have no problem defeating this monster if they kept their strategy.

Unfortunately, the world didn’t seem to want to make this fight that easy. With a stroke of mild bad luck, the monster attacked Alisa, causing her to faint. 

That would have been fine since Emma was ready to react next and she could easily cure her status ailment. 

But then a red glow suddenly radiated from the dinosaur’s body, granting it a significant boost of speed. Against what they knew of the monster’s capabilities, it moved to attack again before Emma could do anything, hitting Gaius hard enough to also cause him to faint. 

While she could curse all this misfortune on something as simple as bad luck, she couldn’t deny the relief she felt when the monster decided to spend extra time preparing to use a craft against Gaius instead of immediately attacking her or Rean and possibly inflicting faint on them too. 

Not used to changing the ARCUS link, she forgot to link up with the only other physically fine party member, and casted fire bolt at the monster. The casting time was short enough to make contact before the monster finished charging its next attack. She hoped the collision of her art would be enough to stun the monster and give Rean enough time to swing his sword and interrupt the monster’s plan. 

The ball of flames rapidly propelled toward the monster, barely scraping past Rean’s head by a couple rege, and collided with the dinosaur’s neck. Successfully, the monster was stunned momentarily, giving Rean enough time to use a craft to impede it.

But he did nothing.

A cold terror gripped her heart when his arms stiffened and his blade made no effort to distract the monster as she had planned. She would have believed that time had frozen except she was clearly yelling her lungs out for the boy to move and the monster was clearly still moving and finally ready to release all its power on their downed teammate. 

“No…” Barely registering Rean’s gasp of disbelief, Emma lost all color in her face. 

Blood dripped from the monster’s claws, a trophy from having swiped its sharp talons across Gaius’ chest, though the wound itself wasn’t as deep as she thought it would be. 

In the back of her shocked mind, Emma had to thank Aidios for the fact that this monster used its talons instead of its fangs because its jaw strength was obviously stronger than its arm strength; if the monster decided to use its teeth then they would have had a much worse outcome. 

Still, that injury was nothing to laugh at and Emma needed to get a move on and heal — 

“GAIUS!”

The monster abruptly stepped back, jaw widening to let out a pained roar. Gaius was quickly forgotten from its mind as it turned around to face the swordsman who had just sliced its tail off. 

She had no time to wonder if Rean’s eyes looked a lot more red than they should.

Suddenly, Emma could feel Alisa’s ARCUS link to her switch to link with Rean, finally recovering from faint. Everyone decided at that moment for those two to distract the monster while Emma healed Gaius. 

Her classmate was still standing strong somehow, though his scrunched up face revealed that he could barely focus on anything except the attack he had just endured. She ran to his side, taking note of the four long gashes that ran across his chest, blood trickling down. Emma bit her lip, immediately understanding that no healing art that was currently available to her could fix him up enough to rejoin the fight or even fight for the rest of the day. 

She looked back to her other teammates. The monster was enraged by the loss of its tail and attacked harder and faster than before. On the other hand, Emma noticed that the monster had a higher chance of being unbalanced because of its missing tail. 

Her attention was brought back to her injured classmate. She had just finished casting a quick tear on him, bringing him some relief but would achieve nothing else.

Her arts could only go so far to heal him… but an incantation could help.

Wait, what was she thinking? Using that spell would only confirm Gaius’ suspicions of her, perhaps leading the rest of the class to cast doubt on her— leading to her ultimate failure. She couldn’t allow that to happen.

But then again, Emma would never forgive herself if she just left her classmate to suffer to save her own ulterior motives. Regardless of whether or not Gaius was the Awakener, she couldn’t just leave someone wounded here when she could do something about it— especially if that someone was a person she longed to be friends with!

Again, she spared a glance at her other teammates, still struggling to fend off the monster. Remembering how Rean had frozen up when her previous art whizzed past him, Emma realized that she accidentally triggered his fear of flames. In the heat of the moment, she had forgotten about it. Though even if she did remember, she wouldn’t think it would affect his performance in battle so much, being convinced by his reassuring smile and the fact that he had apparently worked well with Alisa, who had more fire crafts and arts than herself.

This was completely her fault. The sweating and shaking around the fires were an obvious sign that he was barely holding himself together. It was obvious that he was not okay with it despite how much he claimed otherwise. Alternatively, if they had practiced swapping links while they were exploring the Celdic highways earlier, Emma would have remembered to link up with Rean and warned him of what she planned to do so that this would have never happened. 

She couldn’t just blame bad luck for the events that happened today. Everyone was in danger because of her selfishness and gullibility.

She had to fix this. 

Before she finalized the decision in her mind, her mouth was already moving.

“Lux solis medicuri eum.”

A pale light glowed from her fingertips, being transferred to the wound. Before their eyes, the blood clotted immediately and the skin stitched itself back together. 

Emma ignored the question swirling in those blue eyes that blinked at her, offering a shy smile instead. “In a few moments, you’ll be as good as new. When that happens, I’ll create an opening.” Her fingers tightly gripped her ARCUS, setting up a link between them. “With this, you’ll know when to strike.”

“...Thanks,” he managed to grunt through his gritted teeth.

Out of habit, she started to cast another strong, yet quick fire art. She caught her almost-mistake and started to focus on a mirage-based art. While fire was a little more effective against the monster, it wouldn’t help Rean in the long run. 

“Luminous Ray!” As she unleashed a beam of light onto the monster, she nodded to Gaius, already on the move. “Gaius!”

“Got it!” He raised his spear and pierced it through the monster’s back. It was no killing blow, but it was enough to unbalance it. 

“Now!”

Everyone yelled in acknowledgement as they all rushed to inflict their own attacks on the dinosaur. The monster roared again before it combusted into a small cloud of purple, leaving tons of colored sepith in its place. 

Thank Aidios, they managed to recover from that near-disaster of a fight. She turned to everyone, an apology ready on the tip of her tongue, but someone beat her to it.

“I’m so sorry everyone!” Rean bowed down, hiding his face, but he couldn’t hide the tremors that were quaking through his body. Emma instantly worried about his health, also noticing that his skin was as pale as if he had seen a ghost.

Eyes dripping, Gaius leaned against his spear and reached a hand out toward Rean’s shoulder. “It’s okay—”

Their classmate flinched back, refusing to receive a comforting hand on his shoulder. “It’s not.” His tone flattened, sounding emotionless. All the previous shaking ceased as his posture suddenly stiffened as still as a rock. His head was still tilted down, hiding his eyes with his bangs. 

The next moment, a chill traveled up Emma’s spine. Her eyes widened as she could briefly sense an omen of despair hang over her classmates before it vanished as fast as it appeared. She didn’t understand what she just sensed, but she could feel a pool of guilt begin to flood her mind.

Before she knew it, she was the one bowing down and apologizing. “It’s not your fault Rean. It’s mine. I shouldn’t have—”

“Okay, that’s enough,” Alisa sharply cut in, shutting them both up, though her expression clearly showed concern. “We all make mistakes. It’ll be both of your duties to improve yourselves so you don’t make the same mistakes again later, but for now we should rest. Everyone looks like they’re ready to pass out.”

Just as she finished her sentence, Gaius dangerously swayed toward the ground, and would have fallen if Emma didn’t catch him. She struggled to hold him up, barely strong enough to carry anyone taller and heavier than her. Noticing that he was unconscious, Rean eased her burden and chose that moment to lift him up and drape him across his shoulders, performing the fireman’s carry.

“Are you sure you can carry him by yourself?” Alisa frowned, sharing Emma’s doubt. It looked like his eyes were clouded as if he wasn’t entirely present in the moment.

“I’m fine.” His lips twitched and Emma wondered if he was trying but failing to give them a reassuring smile. “Let’s just get back to Celdic as fast as possible.

---

Regardless of their worry, they slowly and silently traveled back to Celdic. 

Emma couldn’t stop herself from replaying her mistakes in her mind. Ironically, she had been so focused on her mission and on keeping these friendships that she ended up hurting both her goals in the long run. She had been so scared of accidentally revealing her identity and subsequently losing her friends that she failed to pay attention to them and ignored the importance of teamwork. 

Now… Well, she didn’t know what was going to happen now. Gaius would probably wake up and hold no grudges, but would probably be more suspicious because of the healing magic she used on him. Rean would smile encouragingly and say that he was fine even though Emma was beginning to feel like he was lying every time he said that phrase. Alisa would try to get everyone to cooperate to what was minimally acceptable but would be unable to push beyond that because of Emma’s stubbornness. 

Basically nothing would change and they were headed for another disaster unless something was altered.

Finally arriving at Celdic, they noticed that there was a commotion occurring in the Grand Market area. Alisa volunteered to check it out while she urged everyone to rest at the inn. Somehow Rean had the energy to argue about her decision, but he was silenced by the glare Alisa shot his way. 

When they reached their room, Rean gently laid Gaius on one of the beds and collapsed on the adjacent bed. Emma thought he was unconscious, but he suddenly started to move again, reaching his arms out to get something from his bag. He fished out a notebook and a pencil and started writing, presumably starting on his field study report. She wanted to say something to get rid of the pained expression that was visible in his eyes, but she didn’t know what to say. Silently, she took a seat on one of the remaining empty beds. 

Resuming her last train of thoughts, Emma decided that in order to not have a repeat of their incident today, she would have to be a better team member. She concluded that the best way to be a better team member was to open up since keeping her secret was the reason she was refusing to cooperate 100%. 

The thought of doing so brought up her original fears again. She didn’t want to see her friends look at her in disgust. However, she couldn’t bear the thought of being the one responsible for Gaius’ demise or Rean’s stress.

She reasoned that if she truly wanted to be friends with these people, it would only be fair to let go of this silly fear for them.

Oh, Celine was going to lecture her so much for this.

She counted every minute until the point of no return. 

It took thirty minutes for Gaius to wake up. 

It took five minutes more for Alisa to open the door to their room and explain the dispute that happened at the Grand Market. 

And after two extra minutes of her heart racing in silence, Emma coughed, gaining everyone’s attention. 

“My behavior today was unfair to all of you, so I would like to make my amends,” Emma tensed, ready to gauge their incoming reactions. “But first, I think there’s something more important I should tell you guys…” Another pause.  “I… uh…”

Hesitation and doubt briefly took hold of her, but she shook those thoughts away.

“I’m a witch."

 

---

---

 

Rean made two unforgivable mistakes today. 

The first was getting consumed by his fear of fire the moment he was most needed. He didn’t care how it was the law of his nature at this point, if the monster was smarter, Gaius would have been left with permanent damage today. No matter how much Gaius reassured him that he was okay or how much Emma tried to redirect the blame to herself, he would always hate himself for this. 

The second mistake was almost giving in to his ogre power. This curse always reacted to powerful emotions, especially ones of anger and hatred. What happened to Gaius today made him feel angry… an emotion he hadn’t felt in years. Even a small sliver of that emotion overwhelmed him and was certain he would have lost it if Alisa didn’t establish a combat link with him in time, showering him with feelings of trust that Emma would take care of their injured friend. 

Too occupied with drowning in his own thoughts, he barely registered Emma’s revelation of her true identity. Alisa and Gaius were undoubtedly confused, not knowing exactly what being a ‘witch’ entailed. Once he finally processed what she said, he forced himself to concentrate on the implications of her words.

He knew about the concept of witches since he was young; his mom had often told him about folktales connected to history which sometimes involved the name of the Hexen Clan. He learned that witches actually existed when his dad revealed the truth to him two years ago. However, when he entered Thors Military Academy to undergo the Divine Knight trial buried near the school, he didn’t expect to receive any help. His dad had said nothing about it, though it would be hard to get in contact with the witches without the gnomes finding out. 

After some contemplation, he concluded that he didn’t know how to feel about this. 

First, he was glad because he was going to receive help. He could receive actual guidance instead of fumbling and accidentally doing something wrong with the trial. On the other hand…

...he was going to receive help. 

Rean could find comfort in knowing that Emma intended to help the Awakener, not him . It would be like working with the Ironbloods: they helped each other out only when it was necessary to their duty. At the same time, it made him feel as guilty as when he was with the Schwarzer family. They were stuck with the duty to look after his pathetic self. They deserved more. Someone else was more deserving of their care. Not him.

He wished that someone else was chosen to be the Awakener now. 

Though he shouldn’t be thinking too hard about it anyway. What were the chances that the Divine Knight was going to choose him, out of all people? As hard as Rean might try in these trials, he knew the Divine Knight would be unimpressed with him and choose a different candidate later. After his inexcusable mess-up today, he had no hope that he would succeed in becoming the Awakener. He was doomed for failure…

That was why he chose to not alert Emma about what he already knew about Divine Knights, Awakeners, and the Old Schoolhouse. Better to not let her hopes up. Or down. 

However, there was one dying question he had. Once Emma had finished thoroughly answering Alisa and Gaius’ questions, he spoke up. “Why did you tell us this now? Based on the way you’ve been acting since the first day of school, it seemed like you wanted to keep this a secret.”

Like how he wanted to keep his identity a secret. 

Emma looked surprised, not expecting a question like that. After a brief moment of silence, she showed them a shy smile. “Well, I just wanted to get it off my chest. To be honest, I was scared about how you would all react which was why I kept it a secret in the first place.” She shifted her gaze to meet blue eyes. “I avoided you because you saw me use magic, and this whole time I’ve been hiding everything about myself from you guys. Sorry...”

“Really?” Alisa tilted her head in surprise. “I didn’t even notice…”

“When I saw you use magic, my suspicions were leaning toward you being a part of the church,” Gaius chuckled, good-naturedly. “I was certainly not expecting anything close to witchery.”

“O-oh, is that so? I feel so silly now, I thought you were close to figuring me out,” Emma’s cheeks flushed red from embarrassment. Even then, she continued her explanation. “A-anyway, I recently learned that my fear was very detrimental to our teamwork and health, and that I didn’t really feel happy with the distance I created with all of you… so I pursued the only solution: telling the truth. I reasoned that we would all benefit from that… which is why I’m telling you all this right now…” She looked away. “And I hope you don’t hate me now—”

Before Emma could continue to mutter, Alisa moved toward her to hug her, expressing genuine awe. “No, that’s actually really inspirational. We all have our secrets and it’s never easy revealing them when you don’t know how people are going to react.”

“That does take great amounts of courage,” Gaius commented, nodding his head in approval.

Rean suddenly felt more hollow. He hid this feeling in his heart as he gently smiled at her. “I think I can speak for everyone that no one thinks any less of you, Emma.

“Tha-thanks…” Emma turned her head away, blushing from all the attention and praise she was receiving. “I’m glad we can still be friends.”

“Of course!” Alisa cheerfully grinned at her before she looked down, her hands were now fiddling anxiously with her skirt. “In fact, I feel so inspired that I think I’ll piggyback off of you. My whole name is Alisa Reinford—” She turned to stare at all of them with a deadpan. “But DON’T let that name make you act any different to me, GOT IT!?”

Everyone chuckled in amusement and promised her that they would treat no one any differently. 

Rean looked away. There was no time more perfect than now for him to get all his secrets off his chest. He could tell them that he was the son of Chancellor Osborne, his true purposes for being here, and so much more. Since Emma was here, he could even explain Ishmelga and the curse without being seen as a lunatic. 

He had the perfect opportunity to say anything and everything. 

But he didn’t. He couldn’t. All of this was his burden to carry. Not theirs. 

Rean sighed, a little jealous over how easily Emma faced her fears and confided in them. He squashed those feelings immediately, knowing it would do him no good.

He shoved his pencil and field study report into his bag, then he moved off his bed. Seeing the inquiring looks in his classmates’ faces, he told them he was going to train for a while. 

“Shouldn’t you get some extra rest first?” Emma asked, concern clearly evident in her tone.

Despite how tired he felt, he doubted he could actually fall asleep when his mind was constantly turning gears to remind him of his feebleness. He bid them goodnight and left without glancing back at them. 

---

He traveled to the outskirts of the town, to the highway but not far enough for monsters to approach him. Shakily, he tightened his grasp on his ARCUS unit and tried to activate fire bolt . The words died in his throat and before he could process what was happening, and his knees buckled under his weight and his back hit the grassy ground.

Well, that wasn’t planned. 

With more effort than what should have been necessary, he sat up. He wanted to push his legs to stand up, but apparently his body seemed to be too unmotivated to move. Paralyzed in his position, he felt a couple drops of water drop onto his shirt. He turned his head up, wondering if it was starting to rain. He found that his vision was too blurry to tell if the stars or clouds dominated the sky. 

...Was his mind so disconnected from his body that he couldn’t even tell that he was crying? And what for anyway? What happened to Gaius today was just another incentive to keep working harder to beat this fear. He had no time for crying. He needed to get better now. Even though the dark thoughts in his head kept whispering that he would never make any progress, that he couldn’t be like his classmate and easily push past his fears. 

He sighed, tired of himself. Even still, he refused to stop.

Come on. Move, body. Move...

 

…

 

His head jolted, unaware of what he was doing previously. Did he pass out? There were no signs of dawn, so he couldn’t have been out of it for too long. And wait, was he leaning on something? He didn’t remember being near enough to anything to be able to lean on something. 

Whatever it was, it felt warm. Unconsciously, he pressed his head closer to it, seeking out more of that warmth because he’d been feeling unbearably cold lately. His ears caught the sounds of what suspiciously sounded like the wrinkling of clothes and soft breathing.

His eyes snapped open as he pulled himself away from his classmate. Why was Gaius here? And what were the chances that he used the teen’s shoulder as a pillow twice today? How embarrassing…

“Wha- what are you doing here?” Rean tripped over his tongue, still trying to get rid of his drowsiness. 

“You seemed troubled, so I went to check on you.”

Was that a completely normal thing to do? They were just classmates, he had no obligation to check up on Rean for whatever reason. 

“Sorry about that.”

He ignored the blue eyed gaze that was undoubtedly burning holes in the back of his head. 

Gaius’ voice held a tone of mixed confusion and curiosity. “What are you sorry for?”

Many things. He was sorry for so many things. “For making you check up on me. You should be resting at the inn instead of being out here.” He stood up (thank Aidios his legs listened to him this time) and held his hand out to his classmate. “Here, I’ll help bring you back.”

He waited for Gaius to take his hand, and was absolutely dismayed when the other made no effort to move.

“What if…” His classmate spoke slowly and carefully, prepared to study Rean’s reaction. “I came out here to help you out with training?”

Why would you want that?

“It’s what friends do.”

Apparently Rean’s mental question accidentally slipped out of his mouth. And apparently Gaius had the same delusion as Alisa about being friends with him. 

How unbelievable, he was literally the reason Gaius was almost fatally wounded today! He didn’t do anything to earn such a title. He knew what friends were: They were people you could trust. Well, Rean was the least trustworthy guy around, carrying infinite secrets, having no idea who he was, and a plan to nearly destroy the world. 

Of course, they couldn’t see that, though he wondered what they did see to believe he was worthy to be called their friend. 

Gaius opened his mouth, presumably to ask a question that Rean feared he would be unable to answer. Fortunately, his classmate caught onto his growing stress because he remained silent. 

They remained silent for half a minute until Rean could feel the guilt gnawing at his chest again. It would certainly be rude to send Gaius back to the inn, making his effort here meaningless. He had to weigh which choice was worse: Himself receiving help or letting Gaius make a pointless action because of him.

“You can... help... me train, though I don’t know what you’ll do.” Calming himself, he reasoned that this couldn’t be worse than Crow and Towa paying for his dinner or being helped with his ‘Schoolhouse Investigation’.

Gaius nodded, but he couldn’t hide his brief expression of surprise. “What kind of training do you do,” he asked.

“I… uh…” Rean scratched his cheek, lamely admitting, “I’m trying to get used to fire.”

He expected to see ridicule dance in those blue eyes because it was obvious that he was hopeless when it came to fire. Conquering his fear was an unreachable dream at this point. 

To his surprise, Gaius’ eyes held understanding and encouragement. 

As if he didn’t believe that Rean was hopeless.

Rean smiled sadly to himself, preparing to disappoint. Clenching his ARCUS, he saw the red lights flicker around. A swirl of flames formed in front of him, carrying with it the agony of what happened twelve years ago. 

…

Every experience was like being dumped into a frozen lake. So cold… he couldn’t breathe— 

He opened his eyes, gasping. Immediately he knew that he failed once again, feeling the telltale signs of his body trying to recover from almost shutting down. While his breathing had finally returned to normal, he was still shaking, still trying to blink away the phantoms from his vision, and still barely able to stand.

—Wait, he was still standing? And now that his mind was relatively more aware of his surroundings, he could feel several spots of warmth bloom on his body, each indicating a hand holding him up. He could feel six total, two on each of his arms and two on his back. 

Why were there more people here? He wanted zero but now there were three. 

His vision finally focused and he could see Alisa and Emma holding onto his arms, and he could assume that Gaius was the one keeping his back away from the ground.

“What are you guys doing here?” His shock was enough to give him energy to straighten himself up. They all let go of him, acknowledging that he was now capable of standing up by himself, though Rean vaguely felt like he missed the sense of their touch.

“Helping you out, duh,” Alisa said as if the answer was so obvious.

He was already pushing himself by allowing Gaius to see him crippled by his fears and potentially help him. The addition of two people was too overwhelming. His dislike for receiving help was almost worse than his hatred for Ishmelga. There were many troubled people out there, they shouldn’t be wasting their time here with him. 

“You really don’t have to.” 

“We want to.” Alisa sounded like her mind would not be changed no matter what, and Emma eagerly nodded to her statement. 

His first instinct was to ask why, but he knew the answer was going to be something he couldn’t believe. Frowning, he asked, “How?”

There was a beat of silence, revealing that none of his classmates had a definitive plan for how to help him. This response wasn’t surprising since no one knew how to deal with psychological stuff like this. Thinking about it, he figured that they believed the least they could do was make sure he wasn’t alone and… Well, his feelings about that were another can of worms he had no emotional energy to deal with at the moment.

Awkwardly looking away, he caught a glimpse of the remnants of his recent art. A fire burned brightly, consuming a small patch of grass. 

His eyes widened in surprise. Never before had he returned to his senses while the fire he created was still burning strong.

“How long was I out?” he asked, eyes still glued to the burning grass. 

“Two minutes,” Gaius answered, following his gaze curiously. 

Not including his breakdown on the first day of school because he wasn't sure how long that took, he knew that calming himself down by himself took about ten minutes. With the black cat, he managed to return to reality in six minutes. And apparently being with these people cut that time down to two minutes. 

 

Impossible. 

 

Was being around more people really the cause of his improvement?

Suddenly he remembered Crow and Angelica’s advice: to rely on others to achieve the impossible . 

He could barely believe it. He didn’t want to believe it. But the evidence was clearly there. 

He turned his attention to the others who seemed to be growing worried about his long silence. They were too stubborn for their own good, he realized. They were going to stick by his side whether he failed all night or not. If they were possibly the key to his success, then he wanted them to see him possibly succeed so all their time wouldn’t be wasted.

“Okay then.” Biting the bullet to fully accept their help somehow seemed more painful than the entire month he spent failing by himself. “Alisa, I want you to shoot me with flaming arrows.”

“Huh!?” They looked at him like he had gone insane, and he couldn’t help but agree.

“I have a worse reaction to fire when I conjure them up myself,” he admitted quietly. That was why he could spend ten minutes in shock when he was training, but only froze for a few seconds when he was exposed to an ally or enemy’s flame. His thoughts almost wandered back to how a certain incident all began, but he shook his head out of those thoughts, trying to focus on the people in front of him. “Getting used to other fires would be easier and more helpful in the battle setting.” He breathed in heavily and rested his hand on the hilt of his tachi. “So I guess my plan is for you to shoot me with flaming arrows, and hopefully I can push myself to slice the arrow before it can hit me.”

“Isn’t this plan too extreme?” Alisa frowned, voicing her doubt. “What if you freeze up? You’ll get hurt.”

Before Rean could respond, Gaius spoke up. “If we’re linked up, I can tell if he’s going to be unable to move.“ He glanced at the spear and ARCUS in his hands. “If he doesn’t react on time, then I’ll protect him.” 

What— 

“And if he does get hurt or sick,” Emma piped up with a gentle smile. “Then I’ll just heal him up!”

Wait, what— 

Their words stunned him. He didn’t… He didn’t know what to think. Though it turned out his body didn’t care about what his thoughts were because his eyes were stinging with tears and a pleasant warmth filled some of the hollowness he’d been feeling all night. 

He turned away, blinking away potential tears, while Alisa inputted one last concern. "You do realize that this is going to require you to put a lot of trust in all of us, right?” 

“Yeah. I already trust you guys.” He trusted them more than he could trust himself. 

“Okay then, Rean.” She raised her bow and aimed it at him. “I'll give it all I got! It's time to destroy your fear of getting burned!"

He almost chuckled at the misunderstanding. He wasn't afraid of getting burned. No, what truly terrified him was the feeling of intense heat suddenly leaving him with an internal frigid hell. The sudden absence of warmth and the reminisce of embracing death would always freeze him in his cursed thoughts. 

However, even though he felt overwhelmed, he was touched by their words. Somehow, just sensing their presence around him kindled a tiny ember within him.

Readying himself, he unsheathed his sword.

---

Unsurprisingly, he was unable to hit the first few arrows. As promised, however, Gaius swatted those arrows away from him with his spear, keeping him away from any actual danger while Emma tried to alleviate his anxiety with her arts and magic. 

When Alisa fired her seventh arrow, Rean concentrated on the presence of his classmates. He focused on their words and the tiny ember that was ignited within him. He remembered the lasting warmth from the upperclassmen during the Old Schoolhouse investigation a few days ago. He thought their comfort would make little impact on the blizzard storming through his chest, but it was finally enough to thaw his frozen limbs. 

*Fwoosh*

Without even processing his movements, his arms were able to swing his sword. Of course, he missed because it was difficult for him to focus on anything other than his inner turmoil, but it was progress he had never experienced before. 

He couldn’t hear the clink of Gaius’ spear deflecting the arrow over the sound of his heart thrumming in excitement. He stared at his sword in absolute awe and disbelief. 

He actually… He had actually consciously moved in spite of his close proximity to a flame. It felt like he just witnessed a miracle. 

More strange emotions he hadn’t felt in a long time started to flood the void in his heart, but he had little time to dwell on his feelings as another arrow was shot his way. 

*Clunk*

He blinked owlishly, unable to process how he had just cleaved the arrow in two with his blade. 

How could the solution couldn’t have been so easy, so simple, and so silly? All this time, he just had to think about his classmates to fix his problem? Or was there a deeper meaning to him finding comfort and trust in his classmates that enabled him to be fueled by something other than the icy claws of his past and the curse? Or maybe there was just something about them being by his side that kept him in the present?

His mind raced to try to find the answer, only coming up with more questions. 

Were these people even worthy of being called classmates at this point? No one with such a label should have been able to help him push past his anxiety so quickly.

Maybe Alisa and Gaius weren’t delusional. Maybe they were 'friends'. Somehow.

That was a thought he would have to contemplate on later.

Once he successfully deflected twenty arrows without any sign of tensing up, Emma suggested that they should move on to a more intense training— and woah, he still couldn’t believe that this was happening, that he was improving. 

Somehow he felt like his life was moving too fast, though maybe he had been stuck at one spot for so long that his mind was trying to catch up to where he should have been all along. 

The idea of this new training was simple: Rean and Gaius would spar while Alisa and Emma aimed fire bolts around them. It was kind of a reenactment of the incident that happened today, a test to see if Rean was still doomed to freeze in the middle of battle whenever someone used a fire attack. 

After five minutes, it was safe to say that he passed the test with flying colors. Somehow, concentrating on his ‘friends’ allowed him to keep moving in the present reality, breaking him somewhat free from the ice that glued him to the past.

And wow— what a feeling that was. His mind short circuited, unable to find the fitting words for just how… weightless he felt. 

When Gaius signaled the end of  battle, Rean didn’t even know he was grinning. He only found out because his ‘friends’ were staring at him, mouths gaping, as if they had never seen him smile before. They then mirrored his happiness as Alisa and Emma hugged him while Gaius patted him on the shoulder.

His muscles immediately stiffened up, wondering what they were doing and why they were doing this once again. But then he let himself melt in their embrace and enjoyed their warmth, thinking that maybe… for once… he's earned this. 

“Thanks, guys.”

If they saw tears fall that night, no one commented on it. 

---

Even though he was unable to make progress in regards to using his own fire-based crafts and arts, he had no nightmares and was able to have more than three hours of sleep that night. Not having to worry about holding his 'friends' back whenever a stray fireball was sent his way lifted the weight off his shoulders. 

Every footstep he took was still surprisingly light and he still couldn’t wipe off the silly grin off his face. He felt different. He felt good about himself... He was certain that this illusion of happiness was going to crash and burn any moment now, so he decided to at least enjoy every moment of it while it lasted.

Though he had to admit, he had another awkward question that had been at the center of all his thoughts since he woke up. 

When they split up in groups of two to investigate the robbery that occurred at the Grand Market last night, Rean asked his question.

“Why are we friends?” The question sounded rude in his ears, but it was the only string of words that could easily sum up his confusion. Shifting his eyes away from her, he added, “I think you’ve noticed by now that I’m kind of a mess, so…”

“Aren’t we all messes?” Alisa flipped her hair, walking next to him without making any move to look at him. 

“Yeah, but—"

The girl halted in her steps and turned around, jabbing her index finger at his chest. “But you still make an effort to be friendly and helpful, despite whatever issues you have. You didn’t let your ‘mess’ get in the way of helping me with some chores or having my back during the schoolhouse investigation and this field study.” She stepped back, giving him space, but her gaze still lingered on his eyes. “That makes you a mess that I can trust.”

Rean almost frowned in confusion. Had he really been acting like that?

“Even though you’re terribly awkward…” She was glaring at him, clearly referencing the uh… little incident on the first day of school. “But um…” Her expression softened and she smiled fondly at him. “You don’t get mad at me for my short-temper, you listen to me rant about our classmates, and you haven’t treated me any differently when you learned I was a Reinford.”

Rean nodded along, realizing that he did in fact do all that, but he didn’t think it was a big deal.

“You’re just… there for me… even though you obviously have your own problems” Alisa turned away from him again and fastened her pace so that she was walking ahead of him. “That makes you a friend.”

He stopped in his tracks. 

Still failing to process her words.

Was that what a friend was?

He couldn't understand but he also couldn’t deny the pleasant feeling in his chest. 

“That’s why…” Alisa continued walking, unaware that he had stopped. “It’s only fair that I helped you out with your ‘training’ last night. Because we’re friends.”

Rean took a whole second to blink before he rushed to catch up to her. It became obvious that she was blushing.

“Geez, that was too sappy even for my tastes.” Alisa muttered, shooting him a weak glare. Without warning, she gave him a gentle shove to the shoulder. “Don’t you DARE say a word of this to anyone else.”

A genuine laugh escaped his throat. He faced away from her, smiling. “My lips are sealed.”

---

“Why are we friends?”

The whole group was exploring Lunaria Nature Park, following a lead that the culprits of the Grand Market robbery were hiding here. It had certainly been an interesting investigation, especially when they witnessed Emma use magic to hypnotize the provincial army to give them clues. At the moment, they were taking a break. The girls were sitting off in the distance; Alisa was enthusiastically talking to Emma about a book, Red Moon Rose , that she had recently been reading. 

Rean chose this moment to ask Gaius his question. While he somewhat understood Alisa’s reasoning, he didn’t think her feelings were the same as Gaius’.

“You do your best to protect everyone in battle, and you’re always pushing everyone forward while accommodating our issues.” Gaius answered without hesitation, wearing a thoughtful expression. “That makes you a comrade in my book.”

Rean furrowed his eyebrows in deep thought, once again doubting a classmate’s observations on him. Who Gaius described sounded like someone he aspired to be but failed to ever become. 

But they sounded so confident about what they saw in him that he did have to wonder...

“And I can’t help but see you like a younger brother.”

Huh wha— 

He already had trouble wrapping his head around this whole friendship thing. Now he was part of metaphorical familiar connections?

What was worse was that Gaius just closed his eyes and sat there with a content expression on his face, having no plan to elaborate.

After a reasonable period of silence while a hurricane of confusion formed in his head, Rean asked, “Care to explain?”

“Sometimes the reason can be as simple as why the wind chooses to blow in a certain direction: Just because.”

Rean was reminded of an argument he had with Elise a long time ago. 

He could make no sense of it.

“You can call it whatever you want. Friendship, kinship, camaraderie… It doesn’t really matter,” Gaius interrupted his thoughts, as if he could sense his turmoil. He reached out his fist, gesturing half of a fist-bump. “Just know that I wish to have your back, like how you promise to have mine. It’s as simple as that, no need to think too hard on it.”

Keep things simple… okay...

“Got it.” Rean smiled shyly, reaching his hand out to complete the fist-bump. 

---

With their teamwork, defeating the fake park rangers responsible for the Grand Market robbery was a piece of cake. Rean felt like it was too easy, for some reason he anticipated a greater challenge. 

(Was his life so difficult that he could never expect to receive easy tasks?)

He was confused for a moment until he sensed a group of people coming their way. He turned around to see the Provincial Army approaching them. The man in charge wasted no time in accusing Rean and the others for trespassing and for potentially being the ones who committed the robbery since they were said to be ‘missing’ last night.

They would have been arrested if the Railway Military Police didn’t arrive and present the results of their own investigation, though Rean was a little surprised to not see Claire there. 

Without any more issues, they returned to Celdic. Market Manager Otto showed his gratitude for their help in investigating the robbery. He mentioned that Instructor Sara should be on her way to regroup with them in the next hour. 

When she didn’t show up, Alisa joked that Group B must still be giving her a lot of trouble. They all laughed, able to believe that. This led them to wonder and dread the outcome of the other group’s field study. 

They all agreed to go back to Trista by themselves when the sun set. Upon entering the train, Rean decided to sit next to Emma to ask the same question that he had asked the others.

“Why are we friends?” He kept his voice low, not really wanting Alisa and Gaius to listen in. It seemed like they diverted their attention to playing a game of Blade, respecting his wish. 

Emma jolted, acting as if Instructor Sara had just called her name to answer a question she wasn’t paying attention to. “Uh…” Her smile wobbled, confused and surprised. “...Are we not?”

He blinked, not expecting to have his own question turned against him. He watched Emma shift nervously in her seat as he tried to find an answer in his own thoughts. He thought back on Alisa and Gaius’ responses.

Helped each other out? Check. 

Accepted each other’s apparent personalities and enjoyed the other’s presence? Check.

Protected each other in battle? After Emma revealed her secret, she was even more considerate of others in battle so that was a check.

‘There’? Check.

Hmm...

“Yeah, we are,” he finally answered with a brief nod. 

“Oh.” Emma visibly relaxed. The corners of her lips quirked up as a knowing look crossed her eyes. “Then I guess you found her answer.”

“I guess I did.”

He slumped back into his chair. He was still confused, yet at the same time, he felt at peace.

So these people were his… friends.

---

Rean could have fallen asleep if the sound of a mighty roar didn’t pierce through the sky and make his ears ring. 

He should have known peace wouldn’t last so long, not with him around. 

There was a special feeling of rippling anxiety that would surface whenever he instinctively sensed danger encroaching in on his family. Right now, when the train started to move and depart from the station, that same feeling seized him and it was for the three people sitting with him right now. 

He stood up abruptly, trying to locate the reason for his sudden distress. 

His sixth sense screamed at him, warning him that a big, furious aura was racing toward the train. At its speed and direction, Rean predicted that it would collide with their train car. Whatever presence he was sensing, it exuded too much pressure to be just some dumb bird. Actually, whatever it was seemed to be thrice the size of the dinosaur monster they fought yesterday.

He was already pressing his face against the window to see this presence with his own eyes. His friends followed his action, no doubt looking for the same thing. 

His eyes snapped to a giant pink blur heading their way. With the little time he spared to look at its features, Rean noticed a gigantic baboon-like creature that resembled the depiction of Lunaria Nature Park's Lord of the Forest in some records. But what it looked like and why it was here wasn't his priority right now because it showed no signs of stopping, having every intention to run into the side of the train.

There was no time to jump out of the train and blindly hope that he had enough strength to stop that monster in its tracks.

This was an unstoppable danger. Pain and injury was inevitable for everyone here.

His senses not-so-helpfully alerted him that there were forty people on this train.

And three friends, his mind supplemented.

His arms reached out and snatched Alisa and Emma's wrists, pulling them to the opposite side of the train car; Gaius followed, also sensing what was to come.

"What the—"

"Rean, is that—"

Their voices were quickly drowned out by the sounds of glass shattering, metal crushing, and a roar loud enough to reach the depths of Gehenna.

His heart stopped. A familiar voice pierced through his mind.

 

"You will never be capable of protecting anyone."

 

As his hands let go of their wrists and their bodies were tossed as a result of the heavy collision, Rean felt ice rush through his veins, his mind plunging back into his frozen lake of broken memories.

He tried so desperately to reach out again for a touch that was increasingly becoming comfortable, to pull him back to the present.

But as everything turned black, he knew he was too late.

Notes:

Aw... look at that development~ Emma revealed that she's a witch this early and Rean's finally accepting that he can have friends too! And he kind of got over his fear of fire (It took like 4 chapters)! Kinda. We're getting there. Regardless of that, he still has a lot of problems so no one needs to worry about any angst going away.

Also, don't judge the inaccurate battle scenes. I know 'fire bolt' can't delay anyone and I know arts can't unbalance foes in the game. But it's whatever~ plus it's not farfetched logic either. XD

Actual Author's Notes:

I reason that Gaius' senses are more spiritually attuned and that Emma's senses are more magically attuned. That's why he can sense Rean's turbulent emotions, strange energies, and "something evil", which is why Gaius treats him with more care. That's not to say that there's nothing magically wrong with Rean, if Emma squinted, she could probably see something. However, she was too focused on her own problems to notice at the moment. Though I guess that don't matter anymore because she's catching on~

Next chapter we'll have a lot of special guest appearances! Many of which you're probably expecting, but some will be a surprise. :3

Thanks for reading, please comment, and take care~

Chapter 6: The Wrong Path

Notes:

Okay, I did not expect to finish a chapter this long and complicated this fast... but here we are.

Oh well, you all know that my update schedule can range from 2 days to a whole month, so... yeah, don't get used to it XD

In the raging storm of a freezing blizzard, where all that could be seen were endless sloshes of the black sky and the white storm, a devastated man marched toward his old home. The environment wasn't ideal to travel in at all, especially by foot. Anyone would freeze to death. In any other circumstance, that was fine; Giliath could stand his ground easily against the forces of nature.

However... the boy in his arms couldn't.

Rean was supposed to stay in a coma for a day or two more at least. But an extremely harsh gust of wind was enough to wake the child prematurely. He stirred awake, violently shivering and muttering as if he was still experiencing a dream. "Mom…"

Giliath stopped in tracks, horrified. He did not expect the boy to keep his memories.

Rean's eyes fluttered open, face cringing from the biting cold surrounding them. "Mom… she's... she's— " he whispered, eyes revealing a lot of pain and fear behind them.

"Shhhh… it's okay, Rean," Giliath hushed gently, placing a warm hand against the shivering boy's cheek.

"I’m so sorry… I couldn't… protect her…” Tears emerged from his eyes, quickly transforming into soft crystals of ice. “Now she’s gone…”

He hugged his son tighter, closer to his chest, before he resumed his heartless trek. “You did enough, Rean. I suppose Aidios just wanted to meet her early.”

But like hell will he allow Aidios to have his son.

“Will you go too?” Giliath could barely hear his son’s whispers, but the words sent more chills through him than this damned blizzard. 

“Why do you think that?” He couldn’t find the energy to tell the truth or to tell a lie.

“Be— because…” Rean covered his eyes with his arm. He could feel frozen tears soak through the fabric. “I broke my promise... You hate me now, don’t you...”

Oh... Why did his child have to blame himself for something he had no control over? If anything, the person at fault was...

“I don’t hate you. I’ll always love you, Rean.”

“So then… you’ll stay with me?”

Giliath was in no position to raise a child. He was going to take over this country and ruin it. He was going to work with that crazy secret society then steal their plan. He was going to make this world hate him. Said world wouldn't allow any child of his to live a good life. Rean Osborne could never forge any meaningful relationships, could never achieve his own goals, and could never be happy.

He could foresee a future full of despair for his son if he stayed.

And yet… just wanting to lift his son’s despair of the present made Giliath hesitant. Could Rean even make it to the future like this?

“I’ll stay by your side. Always.”

He turned back, even when the town of Ymir was visible.

This was the second worst decision Giliath Osborne had ever made in his life. 

 

---

---

 

Ishmelga didn’t tolerate how his contractor served people other than Himself. It didn’t matter if Dreichels was helping his only son. Familial bonds were meaningless to the cursed entity. The Awakener was only supposed to follow His will. 

Unfortunately, Dreichels was as headstrong as ever and would not listen to Ishmelga’s commands whenever it involved the boy. It was impossible to persuade the man. So Ishmelga only did the next logical course of action:

Turn the boy into a fragment of Himself.

If the boy had part of the cursed entity in his soul… if the boy and Ishmelga were both the same... then He wouldn’t mind however much Dreichels helped his son. In the end, His Awakener would technically be serving Him through the boy.

It was so easy to do. The boy was already the Ultimate Sacrifice and held Drechels’ cursed heart in his possession. All Ishmelga had to do was to prey on his many, many insecurities and the boy would practically be under its control.

The only thing Ishmelga wouldn’t be pleased to do was gain a deeper understanding of the human language. Humans were beneath Him. Communicating with them was unnecessary in most circumstances. Unfortunately, He doubted the boy would easily listen to a voice that sounded extremely ominous.

“Bye…” the boy shyly waved at the fleeting figure of his father, who was leaving to do business as Erebonia’s new Chancellor. Slowly, he moved to his room to retrieve a sword and went outside to practice his sword-swings. He knew he was weak, that was why his mom was gone and why his dad had almost abandoned him. He had quickly learned that he hated being weak. Naturally, he then resolved to be strong… strong enough to protect the people he cared about. He had begged to learn the way of the sword, and his dad had complied, teaching his son on his off-days.

Since then, he had trained with the sword every day. However, Rean was impatient and frustrated. He wanted to be strong now.

He couldn’t wait to stop being weak.

Because of His nature, Ishmelga had no trouble sensing malice or insecurities. Though, being linked with the boy, He could sense more of the boy’s emotions like happiness and hope.

It was the concept of hope that Ishmelga took advantage of. 

“ Do you want to be a lot stronger right now? ” Ishmelga’s voice boomed through the boy’s thoughts, forcing him to freeze in place and drop his sword in shock.

“Who’s there!?” The boy spun around, trying to find a person in his surroundings; the only thing he found was a deer peacefully eating some grass. He paused, biting his lip in deep thought. “I can’t see you, but… Whoever you are… there’s something familiar about you.”

Ishmelga was not surprised by this comment. After all, a part of Himself was now locked in the boy’s heart. “ I'm your guardian angel. I was the one who saved your life a couple months ago .” Its words may be blasphemy intentionally, but also not far from the truth. 

Dreichels had made another mistake not telling this child about Ishmelga, believing the cursed entity would only haunt himself and not wanting his son to get any more involved with the curse. Rean had no reason to distrust this voice, grateful for being saved and comfortable with the familiarity of this voice despite its suffocating presence. 

“Oh… Uh… Thanks for that.”

Oh this child was so innocent. 

Ishmelga had no use for innocence.

Such a trait would only get in the way. In fact, everything that the boy represented— kindness, insecurity, resolve, hope— was inconvenient. Ishmelga would have to break the boy down to nothing. Then build him back up, molded into a perfect vessel for Himself. 

Good thing the boy was already partially broken. That made His plan much easier. 

“ It was my pleasure. Now, back to the topic at hand, I know a way to make you 100 times stronger than you are right now .” He watched the boy’s eyes sparkle with curiosity. “ Do you see that deer over there? You have to kill it .”

It wasn’t the most extreme suggestion. Hunting animals and slaying monsters were activities that the Erebonian society condoned. 

The boy immediately shook his head, expressing fear. “I… I’ve never killed anything before…”

Ishmelga was not surprised by this response from the soft-hearted boy and decided to emphasize the incentive. 

“ You need to know how to kill in order to become strong. Your father has killed many animals and monsters, and you know how strong he is .”

Reluctantly, the boy finally nodded. It was hard for anyone inexperienced to catch and kill a deer with only a sword, but the boy managed. Slowly, he snuck up on the target and delivered an immediate fatal blow. The deer went down, red liquid leaking to the ground from its wound. 

“ Stab it again. It’s not dead yet .”

But the boy looked sick and his hands were trembling. “I—” He waited a few more moments to regain his composure. With one more guilty movement, he ended the creature’s life. 

This wasn’t enough for Ishmelga’s standards. The boy needed to get rid of his guilt and empathy for all things living. He needed to be desensitized to inflicting suffering.

“ Stab it again. ” 

The boy breathed heavily, horrified. “But it’s not even breathing— it’s already dead!”

“ STAB IT! ” Ishmelga commanded. 

The boy’s heart suddenly pulsed, reverberating throughout the boy’s whole body and driving him to follow the command.

“ That wasn’t so bad, was it? Stab it again. ” 

Tears streamed down his cheeks. “I don’t think—”

“ If you can’t do this much, you’ll never be strong. ”

Fearing the idea of staying weak more than being concerned over the morality of the action, the boy raised his sword again.

Ishmelga wanted to scoff when the boy eventually curled his body up, crying from the terror of what he had done.

This was going to take a while...

---

They continued like that for a few hours. When they finished, they moved the corpse to a distance far from the house. It wouldn’t be good to have Dreichels see this. Ishmelga also convinced the boy to promise to not tell his father, telling the sweet lie that it would be better to surprise him when the boy was much stronger . 

The promise of getting stronger was the only reason the boy agreed to do it again the next day. And they repeated it again with another creature or another monster the next day. And the next…

Until every piece of innocence was shattered. Until every shred of compassion for life was non-existent. 

Ishmelga wanted the boy to start killing humans. Unfortunately, that idea had even greater risk of being caught. The next best option was to convince the boy that humans were trash, below even the most unintelligent monsters. 

It wasn’t so difficult to do. Dreichels had already been isolating the boy from the rest of humanity, fearing that his enemies would catch wind of his son’s existence. Also, the boy had literally witnessed humans destroy his home and kill his mom; he already had a bad impression of mankind. In the future, if the boy would have to kill a human, he would have little trouble eliminating them if they were perceived as trash.

At this thought, Ishmelga started to craft a greater plan. He wasn’t dumb, He knew that Dreichel’s policies would conjure enough hatred for the ants to rebel against them. To counter that, Ishmelga thought it would be perfect to have an assassin that could locate and kill anyone who got too close to killing his dear Awakener.

A dead Dreichels was inconvenient, after all. 

When the boy finished off another corpse, Ishmelga tightened his link to the boy, watching a faint gleam of amusement cross those lilac eyes. He had discovered that their link was a two-way street. While Ishmelga could feel his emotions, the boy could also experience His ‘emotions’, just to a lesser extent. Knowing this, He fed feelings of malice and bloodthirst to their link. 

If Ishmelga loved conflict and violence, His vessel should enjoy it too.  

As time went on, the boy did stop trembling and crying everytime he took a life. Frequently, the predatory gleam in his eyes would reappear whenever that blade cut down another monster.

---

One day, the boy was nonchalantly cleaning his blade when he asked, “Am I strong now?”

He wouldn't ever be 'strong' by himself. Ishmelga would give him 'help'.

" Not yet… I'll now teach you how to use my power. "

"Your power?" The boy was genuinely more curious about this than the killing he had to do earlier.

" Yes… You've mentioned that my presence was familiar, correct? If you concentrate hard enough, you should sense a power similar to mine coming from within you. "

The boy closed his eyes and took a deep breath. After a few moments, he asked, "Like thi—" His eyes snapped open, revealing deep crimson irises while each strand of black hair in his head turned into the color of ashes. It must’ve been so easy since their connection was so deep now. 

He clenched and unclenched his fingers, testing out the feeling of his body. " What the… "

" You are now faster and stronger. Plus, you are immune to any status ailments. " Ishmelga noticed that the boy was tense and his arms were twitching. " Don't fight the power. Relax and let it consume you. Only then will you grow stronger. "

Immediately, his sword was drawn. With one swing to a nearby tree, the plant's thick trunk was cleanly sliced into two. Slowly, the top slid off and collapsed to the ground.

The boy's power ceased to be active, leaving him to also fall to the ground.

" See? You are much stronger now. "

A faint smile touched the boy's lips.

The boy saw it as a gift. Ishmelga saw it as a way to gain more control over him. 

---

" Am I strong now? " The boy asked, currently using Ishmelga’s power. His blade dripped the blood of an ambush of monsters he had just slain.

" Not yet. There is one more thing you must do. " Ishmelga paused for a second, trying to find the right way to phrase his words. " You must lose your identity. "

"What?" Feelings of uncertainty and suspicion rose from the boy so much that he lost concentration and returned to his normal form.

Ishmelga paused for a minute, wondering if it was still too soon.

" You are weak, Rean. " This was the first and last time Ishmelga would ever call him by his name, making this statement hit the boy even harder. " Truth is, you have always been weak. You will always be weak. The only way for you to be strong is if you become someone else. The first step is to cast away your name. "

The boy frowned, upset. He easily accepted the possibility that he truly was weak and that was all he could ever be, but he didn't like the idea of losing his name. He didn’t like the idea of losing himself… even though he was unaware that he had already lost so much. "My parents gave me my name… I don't want to throw it away."

" Then you will forever be weak. ” 

Ishmelga made a point to be silent for a while, making his words settle in the boy’s mind. 

” You will never be capable of protecting anyone. "

After many minutes of deep thinking, the boy finally conceded. "But then what will my name be?"

" You will have no name. "

"...Like the nameless one?"

" You know of that beast? " That was a surprise. Rarely anyone these days knew of that beast. Most should have treated it as a mere fairy tale. Though Ishmelga internally smirked, ready to use that knowledge to His advantage.

"Yeah, my mom… she used to talk about it a lot, along with other folk tales…"

" Do you know why the beast is nameless? "

The boy opened his mouth, seemingly ready with an answer. Whatever thought he had in mind died in his throat as he shook his head in denial.

" Truth be told, there is a curse lingering over Erebonia. In order to stop it, the holy beast absorbed the curse to protect everyone. This, however, required a sacrifice: Its name and its memory of who it was would be forgotten by itself and the world. "

"You want me to forget my name and who I am?"

" Only your name. " For now. " Are you willing to make the sacrifice to protect the ones you care about? "

Ishmelga’s question immediately washed the boy’s doubts away, nodding his head without hesitation. Despite everything that had changed about him, he was still determined to do anything to be able to protect the people he cared about. This desire the boy had was something Ishmelga never eliminated, knowing that it was the only reason He made so much progress with the boy. 

(Though later He planned for it to be gone.)

Admittedly, Ishmelga would not truly wipe the boy's name from existence. To lose one's name like this meant that his name would be wiped off all records and memories. Dreichels would notice immediately. Plus, if he really wanted to, he would just force the boy to forget without any form of consent.

Perhaps one day, Ishmelga would make it official. For now, He would just make the boy pretend to have no name. Names were pesky anyway, giving living beings a sense of identity and individuality, risking a possibility for rebellion.  Ishmelga never bothered to remember names except the ones that belonged to truly exceptional people like Dreichels. For anyone else, especially His vessel, Ishmelga would prefer if they had no identity since they were all just puppets.

" You will let your father call you whatever he wants to call you. However, unless I give you permission, you will not say your name is 'Rean' and you will not act like how 'Rean' should. You will only do what I tell you to do, okay? "

“...Okay…”

“ Perfect. From now on, you’ll be my Nameless One. And I promise you that you’ll grow strong enough to protect whoever you like. ”

That was, if the boy still liked anyone after this.

---

Just a little more time, and Ishmelga’s little project would have been complete. 

Like any other day recently, the boy ruthlessly killed an animal. Not for food, safety, or enjoyment. Just because he had nothing else to do. And he just picked at the corpse as if the significance of life and death were meaningless in this world. 

It was glorious, He had to admit. 

(Briefly, Ishmelga wondered if it could get the boy to dig up his mother’s corpse and do the same.)

Unfortunately, Lianne had finally emerged from the shadows and stopped the boy.

“Is there something wrong?” the boy asked innocently. As if he wasn’t just mutilating a living being until it died.

It was delightful to watch fury and hatred flash through the normally calm saint’s eyes. No doubt it was solely directed at Ishmelga. Lianne only nodded at the boy’s question before she dug a small hole in the ground. Allowing the boy to watch every movement, she gently cradled the bird in her hands before she respectfully placed it in the hole. Burying it with dirt, Lianne found a small branch to act as a gravestone for the dead creature.

Those actions were so caring… so respectful. It was unlike anything Ishmelga had told him about mankind. 

Lianne waved the boy over to the grave. She made him sit. Made him pray. Made him think. 

She made him remember to care. 

(With the consequence of letting him learn to hate himself.)

As if he had been shaken from a trance, the boy suddenly started to shake. With wide, crimson eyes, he stared at the blood tainting his hands before he lost consciousness.

That was the day Dreichels sent his offspring off to the snakes and then to that snowy wasteland. 

Away from him. 

Away from Him.

 

But it was too late.

 

Their link was still intact, unbreakable. Ishmelga was still able to feel the boy’s emotions. He could tell the boy was more traumatized than before. And the curse's hold on him was so tight that it would overwhelm him whenever he lost sight of himself or lost control of his emotions.

The boy learned this firsthand a few years later. A surge of desperation and protectiveness coursed through the boy, followed by the explosion ruthlessness that Ishmelga had planted in him. Ishmelga was unaware of any of the details other than that the boy was absolutely devastated after that incident. Since then, the boy had only felt sadness, guilt, and fear that only grew as time went on. 

It must have developed into something delightfully awful because, come the boy’s fifteenth year of existence, he and his adoptive father held an audience with Dreichels. 

The boy was thin. And distant. More distant than Ishmelga had ever seen him. His gaze was always pointed to the ground and the emptiness it held only proved that “he” was barely there. He was obviously hiding in his head, tending to the weeds of despair. 

The boy’s only tether to reality was the touch of his adoptive father’s hand around his own.

The boy was repressing all of his ‘identity’, all of his emotions, and all of his will. One reason was that Ishmelga's influence would be repressed to a certain extent. The other reason was because of the swelling feelings of self-hatred that triumphed over all the other emotions the boy had. 

The adoptive father raised his concerns that the boy felt a lack of purpose, causing him to act this way. His Awakener begrudgingly found a solution:

Give him a purpose.

There was hesitation on all sides for obvious reasons. The only reason this solution became reality was because the boy begged to keep in touch with his real father. Neither father could deny him. 

Ishmelga taught the boy how to use its powers to change his hair color. Then they gave him a mask that would transform the boy into a competent being. Ishmelga told Black Alberich to program it with traits that originally drew the curse to Dreichels: Confident, honorable, strong, charismatic, et cetera.

The boy’s given purpose was simple: eliminate the ants that would stand in their way. So Ishmelga wanted to turn the boy into an assassin that would kill anyone that would dare to defy them: Exactly what He planned all those years ago. 

Dreichels came up with an alternative plan. Instead of killing those annoying insects, the boy would just attempt to change their mind. That was harder and less effective, but Ishmelga ended up accepting the plan. Dreichels had been acting more cooperative recently. So perhaps a vessel was unnecessary. For once, Ishmelga decided to grant the family a small mercy. 

And so the Ashen Saint was born. 

This plan didn’t change the boy’s emotional state much. It only added “determination” to his pile of messed up feelings again. Ishmelga didn’t care. Actually, sensing the “determination” fluctuate every now and then was highly amusing. Ishmelga would always chuckle whenever the boy grasped onto false hope only to be crushed by despair moments later.

It was like this for two more years, never changing beyond what it was.

Until today.

For the first time ever, Ishmelga sensed unfamiliar emotions radiating from his link to the boy.

Joy.

Warmth.

Genuine hope.

Ishmelga was disgusted. 

He wanted to crush those feelings. 

So He let the little reserves of his curse go free. For just a moment. 

 

---

---

 

“This wasn’t part of the plan, G.” Crow’s voice modifier did well to convey his sharp disapproval of his subordinate’s actions. He was rightfully pissed, though not because of the destruction of the train. Those steel trains and railroads were Osborne’s signature, and he didn’t mind if they were wiped off the map. No, the reason he was angry was because the man standing in front of him disobeyed his orders. 

Crow didn’t usually care for rule breakers but, as a terrorist group that stood against the freaking Blood and Iron Chancellor, they couldn’t afford disobedience. They were heavily disadvantaged as it was, and while he liked to gamble, he also knew that the only way they could take down Osborne was if they did everything perfectly . 

They had little room for error and no one had enough lives to test the limits.

So this… This was unacceptable. 

“The goal here was to orchestrate the robbery at Celdic and test the abilities of the Demonic Flute as discreetly as possible. Attacking a train with that beast you summoned is not discreet!” He snapped. “The public isn’t supposed to know of our existence yet.”

Gideon kept quiet, his eyes showing more interest in the train wreckage and the beast rampaging around it than his ears to Crow’s lecture. After twirling the flute in his fingers for three whole revolutions, he spoke. “I was going to summon Grunoja earlier, to stop those kids who caught the robbers.” His gaze still didn’t move away from the thrashing beast. “But the Icy Maiden found me first.”

Crow would have pulled on his silver hair if it weren’t for the helmet in the way. “Shit.”

“I hid for a few hours. When it was becoming apparent that she wouldn’t leave without me in custody, a sudden thought crossed my mind: Why not destroy the very constructions that her division swore to protect?” Gideon’s eyes twinkled with a special kind of madness that Crow hadn't seen before. “I admit that I acted on impulse. All would have been fine if I just waited a little longer. But this…” He gestured to the RMP officers desperately rushing to the scene and listened to the screams of the passengers ring through the air. “This was worth it.”

“No, it’s not.” Crow shook his head. He was aware that every member of the ILF was unhinged to a certain extent, but seeing Gideon like this felt… different. More jittery, more malicious than usual. “The RMP are going to treat us as a severe threat, and we haven’t even started yet.” They weren’t ready. “Plus, if the Church caught wind of this incident and looked closely, they’ll start targeting us because of the flute.”

Gideon chuckled to himself, seemingly not caring of his leader’s opinion. “Do you not understand the emotional value this victory can have on us— all of us? Plus, those consequences are insignificant compared to the diamond I uncovered today.”

“Which is?”

“Don’t you think it’s strange that the Icy Maiden found me before I did anything? I’d understand if she caught onto my presence if I played the flute first, but certainly not before. This can mean one thing…”

“We have a mole.” Crow finished for him, gritting his teeth in frustration. Yes, this was definitely noteworthy and it was best that they found out about it now. That didn’t mean he didn’t hate the implications. 

Just great. They would have to be more careful about where their information went from now or they were doomed to fail now. 

He couldn’t help but wonder just who the mole was. He took pride in his people-observation skills; he wouldn’t recruit anyone who showed the slightest bit of hesitation to join their cause. He supposed he would only be fooled if there was some sort of spy, but their efforts so far were either nonexistent or hidden by the Noble Alliance. A spy would first have to have knowledge that the ILF existed and that they had ties to the Noble Alliance.

It would be more believable that the so-called spy came from the Noble Alliance’s side than the ILF. This thought didn't make him feel better at all. That meant he had absolutely no control over the situation without dealing with Cayenne— something he’d rather not do because that guy was such a pain in the ass. 

He groaned in annoyance, a talk with the Duke was inevitable. He glanced at Gideon, realizing the man was still fascinated by the destruction he caused. A little unsettled by how his subordinate was still fixated on the mess, Crow said, “Are you going to stay here until the RMP clean this up?”

“How could I not?” Gideon opened his arms up as if he was welcoming the sight. “This is a symbol of our promise: The obliteration of that man’s life and every trace of his existence!”

Gideon always had a flare for making every action more grandiose than it was. Meanwhile, Crow only saw a burning train wreckage, a rampaging monster, and a Chancellor who was still not dead. He didn’t believe for a second that Osborne would blink twice at this incident and put much thought into the damage. Meaning that this action was pointless.

As his fellow terrorist laughed to himself, Crow noticed multiple glimmers of lights manifest in the air above the beast. As quickly as they appeared, those lights transformed into large, very sharp blades. All were pointed at the monster before the snap of fingers resounded through the air. The swords took that que to rain its judgement on the monster, cleanly digging into its flesh until it broke skin on the other side of its body. 

Not even a second later, the beast’s body combusted into a plume of purple smoke and sepith dropped to the ground.

“Wha—” Gideon gaped in utter bafflement for how that monster was so quickly killed and by who; he knew it couldn’t be the work of the Icy Maiden or the Purple Lightning. Crow closed his eyes for a moment, having a pretty good idea who slayed the beast. 

“Oh really?” Both the men turned their heads when they saw a faint glow of blue light shine behind them. Out of nowhere, the one and only Vita Clotilde made her appearance. Judging by her frigid glare that sent chills up his spine and how the temperature seemed to significantly drop, she was absolutely furious. “The only promise I see is that you’re willing to take a more direct approach to ruining lives than Chancellor Osborne.”

It took a second for him to realize that Vita was continuing the conversation that Gideon had ended. Crow narrowed his eyes at her in confusion. Her presence was more hostile and all-consuming  than he had ever felt before.

Before Gideon could even open his mouth to retort, Vita continued to hiss out her thoughts. “I can tolerate your acts of terrorism when it directly involves the Chancellor himself. But what you did today was simply destroy a train full of people without any relation to Osborne.” She blasted a chilling aura that would freeze any lesser man in their shoes. The rest of the words that came out of her mouth were no short of incandescent. “While I normally wouldn’t care about that stuff either, it just so turns out someone important was on that train.”

Gideon shrugged. “Sacrifices are needed for the overarching—”

“I suggest you hold your tongue, human.” Her voice was so steady yet composed of a storm. “This ‘sacrifice’ was unnecessary but I don’t expect you to understand that. I also don’t expect an answer worth listening to from someone who currently reeks of the curse.” 

Crow would have questioned what she was talking about, but her violet eyes suddenly transformed into a piercing gold, promising pain if she was pushed further. 

“I will say this only once, so listen carefully: If you bring my sister near death again, I will personally show you seven hells before you even reach Gehenna. Do remember that you’re not the only one who knows how to exact vengeance.”

Oh. Oh— Vita’s sister was on that train? He did vaguely remember that Class VII was returning from their field studies today. Damn, what were the chances that they had to ride the same train that became victim to Gideon’s impulse?

His mind wandered to the wellbeing of his juniors before he could stop himself. 

Silly him. They were just imaginary friends to play with while he bided his time. He shouldn’t feel the need to worry about them— such feelings were beyond him by now.

Still, he found himself asking, “How are they doing?”

“Miraculously, no one has any permanent injuries,” Vita scoffed, eyes returning to normal while she crossed her arms. “They won’t be moving anytime soon though.”

He felt a strange itch in his chest.

“Well then, we’ll continue as planned.” He coughed, trying to keep his mind off this feeling. “I’ll handle the issue with the mole. G, I expect no more deviations from you. Understood?” 

“Understood.” The man nodded while finally tearing his eyes from the train disaster. It seemed like the RMP finally arrived and were dealing with the injured. “The tyrant must yet face the merciless hammer of judgement.”

“Alright then. Let’s go."

 

---

---

 

He could barely hold on to any thought or any sensation. His mind was too foggy. Swimming through his thoughts was too tiresome. He just wanted to keep sleeping. He wanted to keep running from so many awful truths. 

He couldn’t remember much right now. Everything was still too hazy.

There was only one thing he could clearly remember. Everytime this fog descended on him… Everytime he drowned in that cold lake… He could never forget one thing.

The feeling of failing to protect someone important. 

---

He could still hear things through the fog. He could still see blurs. He could still feel touch and even sense a living thing’s presence. He wouldn’t remember what he experienced a second later. But he could still sense things. 

“He’s the only one awake. Well, if you can even call his current state awake.”

The masculine voice was unfamiliar. This observation was not shocking, however. Everything to him was unfamiliar except the one thing he couldn’t forget. 

Though his mind briefly clung to the word ‘awake’. Should he wake up? Did he need to wake up?

“Can he take visitors?” This voice sounded feminine. Mature.

“Yes.”

---

“I doubt you can hear me, ****.” A sigh. “But if you can, I thought you’d like to hear the results of your field study.”

Field study?

“You get a resounding S.” The sounds of clapping banished the deafening silence for a brief moment. “Despite the challenges, you managed to successfully complete every task. Plus, according to the field study reports from your peers, it seems like the air around Emma and Gaius has cleared up! Cheers!” Another lonely round of applause . 

He didn’t understand. 

“I know it was a group effort, but the Market Manager expressed a lot of gratitude for you specifically. He said that you were the one to take the lead and encourage everyone when the others had mixed concerns about the… well... the unconventional-ness of the field study. You also pushed him to approve of your investigation of the robbery while getting your comrades to join you. And then you actually succeeded! Kudos for that!”

He didn’t understand .

The person talking chuckled. “I knew my gut instinct about you was right. There’s just… something about you that motivates and unites people, whether you’re aware of it or not.”

He didn’t understand... 

“So come on! Do me a favor and wake up so you can fix Group B’s mess too. In return, I’ll buy you a drink… someday.”

Even if he wanted to wake up…

The fog was simply too strong.

And he was simply too weak.

---

“Are you seriously eating his jello?” An indignant voice shouted. “Is your head so far up your ass that you have no shame in taking an unconscious man’s food!?”

“If he wants it so badly, he can wake up and complain about it.” A nonchalant voice replied. “Then I’ll buy him a lifetime’s worth of jello.”

“Of course, only a noble could possibly think annoying and bribing someone is the only way to make them better.” The voice sounded disgusted.

“It would work on you.”

“YOU—”

“Hey, hey, hey!” A door slammed open. A third voice cut in sharply. “Whose bright idea was it to let Machias and Jusis stand in the same room together? If I were ****, I’d want to stay knocked out too!”

A pause.

“I shall take my leave then.”

Two presences left the room.

Only one person was left.

“****.” A long pause. “I’m… uh, sorry. For avoiding you this whole month.”

He didn’t deserve to receive an apology.

“It’s just… When you kept claiming that you were fine… When you broke down at the Old Schoolhouse… And when you defended Albarea… You- You reminded me of Elsa— She’s my cousin, by the way. Well, she was.”

There was a sound of a sob.

“You have the same look in your eyes that she did. It’s the look that screams ‘I’m dying inside’ to the void, but no one picks up on it until it’s too late.

“I didn’t want to believe you were the same as her. I couldn’t stand seeing that painfully fake smile... I couldn’t handle being reminded of… So I kept my distance from you.” A sigh. “Obviously that was a mistake. I was basically repeating what led Elsa to… take her own life. And looking at you now, I can’t help but see the same expression she wore the day I found her body.”

Another sigh. This one was longer than the previous one.

“For a noble, you’re not scum. Actually, you’re a good person— a great person.”

Good person? Was the voice talking about him?

“But even if you were scum, I don’t want you to share Elsa’s fate.”

Footsteps walked away from him.

"So wake up... I'll make up for my behavior to you."

---

There was someone in the room. They didn’t talk. The only sound they made was their soft breathing.

It stayed like that for a while. Just her in the room. Silent. 

He couldn’t count in this fog. He couldn’t tell time. He just knew that an immeasurable amount of time passed when the person exhaled heavily. 

The person left.

He almost wondered what that person did here. 

---

“You know, it’s been three days since the train incident. None of you have woken yet.” 

A lazy voice yawned. 

“You and Emma always helped me with school notes even though I could care less about what we learned.” For a brief moment, he could hear the sound of papers crinkling. “ You’ll probably be upset at all the material you missed.“

Another yawn.

“The boss always told me to pay back my favors… well, when we’re not enemies on the battlefield.” The shuffling of more papers could be heard. “But I know you guys care about this stuff, so I decided to pay you guys back by taking notes for you.”

The person groaned and the noises of joints popping filled the air. 

“Honestly, these notes are terrible. Laura doesn’t believe that I put any effort into them. I don’t blame her though, I can barely even read my own handwriting.”

The door creaked open. The voice was more distant now.

“If you don’t want me to commit any more ‘atrocious’ crimes to your notebooks, you should wake up already.”

The door closed.

---

“It’s probably not surprising to you, but Group B got absolutely nothing done on their field study.” An embarrassed voice chuckled. “I got so fed up with their arguments, that I spent the entire first day composing an entire sonata that expressed my frustrations toward them while they were arguing. I was going to play it to them the next day and stop them from fighting, but I didn’t want to seem aggressive. Then Instructor Sara arrived and tried to salvage the mess.”

An exhausted groan. “Well, you know how hands-off she can be as an Instructor, so it naturally things didn't go so well. Laura ended up getting a concussion so she hasn't been able to visit...”

A chair squeaked against the floor . 

“On the bright side, I created a musical piece. I’ll play it for you and Gaius when you guys wake up.”

The door opened halfway before it was closed. The person did not leave the room. 

“Actually… I think I’ll play it right now. I hope you don’t mind.”

There was nothing to mind.

An indefinite time later, a noise gently replaced the silence. An instrument sang a calming tune. 

It didn’t sound aggressive at all. 

---

There was something wet dripping onto his shoulder. Warm arms shakily wrapped around his form. Two presences were in the room. 

What caught the little attention he had was that someone was crying.

“Alfin—” The voice sobbed uncontrollably. “I can’t— Why does **** always have to go through this? The last time he went into this state, it took him years to recover! What if… What if he never recovers?”

“Shh… Elise, don’t think like that.” The other voice softly whispered.

“It’s so hard seeing him like this. I just— I just want all his pain to go away…” 

More liquid soaked the fabric on his shoulder. 

“You told me yourself, ****’s super strong! He’ll be fine.” The other voice tried to sound assuring. “How did he recover from this the first time?”

A stifled sob. The pressure against his shoulder disappeared.

“I’ll… I’ll have to ask my father…” Something gripped his hands tightly. "****, please. Wake up."

---

“Just saying, a dead look on your face doesn’t suit you at all, ****,” An easy-going voice said. 

A chair scraped against the floor. The sound grew closer to him.

“Saying this is going to be risky as hell but, you know me, I like to gamble.”

A long pause . 

“I know the guy who is partially the reason why you’re stuck in bed like this. I only say partially because it’s not like you’re not allowed to leave bed. They said that you’re physically healthy, so you should be able to move. The only reason you’re not is because you’re stuck in here.”

Something poked his forehead.

“Anyway, I can’t believe I care enough to say this…” the voice chuckled hollowly . “On the behalf of that person, I’m sorry. He was being pretty stupid, but I’m technically responsible for his actions so...”

A long sigh.

“I know those two words don’t solve anything, but you’re not really giving me many options here. Would you prefer it if I gave you an incentive to wake up?” A sudden weight settled on his shoulder. “When you wake up, I’ll show you something special. However, if you take too long, I might start stealing mira from your friends~ Deal? Deal.”

Friends?

The weight suddenly left his shoulder and he could hear the chair scrape against the floor again. 

“School’s been a little less interesting without you around. Better not keep me waiting too long, ****~”

---

“Are you an idiot? I know I’ve been hoping for you to get more rest instead of the training you’ve been doing all night, but that doesn’t mean you get to sleep forever!”

Something small perched itself on his lap . 

“Sheesh, I think I might prefer you depriving yourself of sleep over this. You always find a way to annoy me more...” The voice scoffed . “But what’s even more annoying was that the nurses here kept saying that ‘no pets are allowed’— I’m not a pet! I even had to use magic to get in here...”

The weight on his lap shifted slightly.

“Humans are so stupid sometimes.”

A long, indefinite amount of time passed. Whatever was on his lap stretched before leaping off. 

“I’m going to check on Emma. I know you’re ‘asleep’, but I’ll still warn you to not do anything dumb. Or else I’ll scratch your face. Honestly, I wouldn’t be surprised if you managed to pull it off.”

The voice faded.

“Goodnight, ****.”

---

“Rieveldt speaking.” 

A clicking noise pierced through the silence.

“It’s on speaker.” The feminine voice affirmed. 

A pause. 

*thud* *knock* *knock* *knock* … *thud* *knock* *thud* *thud*

b-y

*thud* *knock* *thud* *thud* … *thud* *thud* *thud* … *knock* *knock*  *thud* … *knock* *thud* *knock*

y-o-u-r

*knock* *knock* *knock* … *knock* *knock* … *thud* *knock* *knock* … *knock*

s-i-d-e

*knock* *thud* … *knock* *thud* *knock* *knock* … *knock* *thud* *thud* … *knock* *thud* … *thud* *knock* *thud* *thud* … *knock* *knock* *knock*

a-l-w-a-y-s

A soft, warm image of his parents smiling and holding onto him gently permeated his mind’s eye, blowing away the fog. He could feel their grasps pulling him out to reach the surface of the frozen waters. Their hold on him was brief: Long enough to let him breath, but too short that it left him standing on thin ice.

Breaking again was always inevitable, but he was safe for now. 

Shaken out of a trance, he gasped. He blinked owlishly at his surroundings; lilac eyes were blurry with tears but his vision was the clearest since Aidios knew how long ago.

His heart ached for his mom, for his dad. It was impossible, he regretfully understood, because they were both distances of varying infinities away from him. He could never hope to reach them. The only things he could have of them were a first name, an empty locket, his dad’s heart, and his mom’s legacy. 

It wasn’t much. And he could never hope to receive any more. 

Still, he let his hand sing the broken tune. 

*knock* *thud* … *knock* *thud* *knock* *knock* … *knock* *thud* *thud* … *knock* *thud* … *thud* *knock* *thud* *thud* … *knock* *knock* *knock*

a-l-w-a-y-s

He couldn’t help but want to believe.

*click*

He looked up to see Captain Claire shutting her ARCUS closed. Her eyes met his before she flashed him a short, understanding smile. She then turned to leave. It would be strange for them to be seen talking together since they weren't supposed to have a connection. Though, at the moment, it wasn’t too big of a concern considering it was night and there were supposed to be no visitors.

“Take care, Rean,” she voiced softly before she closed the door behind her.

 

---

---

 

He slumped back into his bed, mentally and emotionally exhausted. 

His mind was too tired. He could barely remember the events leading to the train ride and everything after that was a complete blank. 

Really, his luck was as cursed as himself. What were the chances that Lunaria’s supposed guardian would attack a train— a train that he was on? Not only that, but he didn’t just have a panic attack, he apparently also went into a vegetative state.

Terrible. He was so terrible. 

He closed his eyes, trying to piece together the last thing he remembered.

"You will never be capable of protecting anyone."

Ishmelga’s voice had sounded so clear at the time, Rean had to wonder if the cursed entity was directly speaking to him or if one of his worst memories decided to choose that moment to strike him.

No wonder he went into shock. Anything involving Ishmelga burned his old scars and made him nearly revert into the ‘Ashen Devil’ that Ishmelga originally intended him to be. He could already feel his energy seeping away, robbing him of what was left of his own will and replacing it with a mindless bloodthirst.

His fingers dug into his palms as he tried to shake those thoughts away. It wasn’t like Ishmelga was to blame for all his problems. Even without Ishmelga, Rean would no doubt still be suffering from a severe case of uselessness, worthlessness and— 

"You will never be capable of protecting anyone."

Yeah... that.

It didn’t help that those words hurt more when his classmates declared him to be their friend because they trusted him to have their back… to protect them… to be there— 

Wait.

Where were they?

His back jolted off the mattress, making him sit up, suddenly full of anxious energy. 

Where were his friends? Could they even be called that anymore? He had spectacularly failed in nearly all aspects of their defined friendship, after all.

Did they leave because he failed?

The ice beneath his feet cracked .

Wait— First things first, were they okay?

He slipped out of all the medical instruments attached to him and pushed himself off the bed. His legs immediately wobbled and he collapsed under his weight. 

…

After five minutes of finally channeling enough strength in his limbs, he stood up.

Stumbling to the door, he leaned on the frame for a second before he opened the door and entered the hallway. Placing an arm on the wall to balance himself, he clumsily walked toward the next room closest to him. Peering through a small gap between the door and the wall, he spotted familiar tan skin and brown locks of hair.

Wasting no time, he crossed the distance between him and his friend.

Despite the many bandages that were peeking out of his clothing, Gaius looked peacefully asleep. Hearing the consistent rise and fall of his chest was enough to calm Rean down.

Gaius was okay. That was good. 

He was about to leave to find the others, but his eyes laid sight on Gaius’ right fist, reminding him of the fist-bump they shared on the last day he was conscious.

His birth parents may be unreachable, but his friend was right there .

In reach.

Maybe… he didn’t have to be a complete failure of a friend. Right now he could still prove that he was at least still there for his friend. Even though the relationship was new (or was it old and Rean was too slow to realize it?), he didn’t want to lose it. 

He earned this. Supposedly. 

For once, he could have something he wanted, right?

 

It was okay, right?

 

His knuckles gently brushed against the other’s, mimicking a fist-bump, proving that there was no infinity between them. He vaguely noticed that the empty feeling in his chest was a little more bearable before he turned around to leave. 

With even more struggle, he managed to reach the next room which happened to be Alisa’s. He saw the girl laying on her side, arms wrapped around a pillow.

As he stood by the side of her bed, he wondered what he could do to close the endless gap between them and show that he was still there for her. He was 100% certain that Alisa would not appreciate being touched at all and he knew he was selfish to want more evidence that she was there , but he needed this to keep himself together. He’d rather do this small crime than let her see him break down again so soon. 

He patted her head.

Her arms around the pillow tightened as she smiled in her sleep.

He traveled to the next room with more hassle. His breathing became more haggard, but he was more focused on seeing his classmate. The energy was quickly leaving his legs again now that he was calm, but he figured it wouldn’t be fair to skip Emma.

To his surprise, he not only saw Emma sleeping soundly in the hospital bed, but he also saw the black cat curled next to her lap. 

Was Emma the owner of the cat all along? Whatever, that wasn't his biggest concern at the moment.

He reached out his hand to pat the plum-colored hair once when a loud hissing noise suddenly pierced his ears. Surprised, he accidentally tripped over his feet and unfortunately hit his head on a cabinet as he fell to the ground. 

Even as his vision faded and he felt the energy escape his body, he strangely felt better than ever. They were there and he was there . 

He didn’t lose anyone. 

He didn’t completely fail them.

That was all that mattered.

“Stupid stupid stupid! What did I say about not doing anything dumb!” 

Yeah, all that mattered...

Notes:

Did I just do that? Yeah, I just did. I made Rean's problems more complicated. As if they weren't already enough XD

Oof, what a packed chapter. Some backstory, terrorist conflict, and Rean angst? Mm, it was nice to write. Too bad I couldn't fit in a Class VII vs Monkey fight in there. Would've been great.

And aw, nothing permanently bad happened! I mean, nothing much was resolved, but the chapter ended on a more fun and hopeful note despite the tone of the entire chapter. (I mean, this is still kind of the beginning... I gotta save my cards lol).

Actual Author's Notes~

Writing Ishmelga's perspective was certainly interesting. I figured that since Ishmelga has a god-complex, he would refer to himself as with the capital He/Him, cause I'm pretty sure the Bible does that for God. Oh well, since he's the main antagonist in this story, I figure I should make him as awful as possible. I did have to keep it a little short and rushed though. It's kinda new to me and I wanted to make sure I wasn't stepping on any warnings or rating changes because someone is being too evil.

Also, the stuff with the ILF? You can tell that something's just brewing there. Wonder who the spy is... *suspicious whistling*

And the code between Osborne and Rean? It'll be explained later. But technically speaking, it's basically morse code because I do not have the time or creativity to create my own code. Speaking of which, you might notice that it is significant in the story, considering I kinda showed it in previous chapters and the title's name~

Also... "Always By Your Side" is a track from Sen IV and it always brings a tear to my eye. So of course it'll be a reoccurring theme in this story!

Thanks for reading and I always appreciate a nice comment! Take care~

Chapter 7: Unveiling the Mirror

Notes:

Woah, thanks for the comments last chapter! I literally couldn't stop smiling, lol.

That being said, this will be the last super quick update in a while. I unfortunately have to deal with my real life now. XD

After they were released from the hospital, Rean noticed that most of the class seemed to treat him with more care. This… shouldn’t have been surprising. It wasn’t normal for someone to act like an empty shell after a train accident unless they sustained heavy brain damage. Making a full recovery after only a full week probably gave them a hint that something may be mentally wrong with him. Well, no one dug for any more information, so he couldn’t really mind if they had any suspicions. 

Anyway, as days went by, Rean was increasingly becoming more used to the concept of having friends. 

The amount of things that changed because of this development baffled him. Before, he would usually walk to school by himself or with Elliot and Gaius. Now, their company was almost always guaranteed every day, and sometimes Alisa and Emma would tag along and drag other members of Class VII with them. Study sessions often involved more people than the usual trio, and it was now a tradition to eat dinner  together at the dorms.

(They never had a full table though, for obvious reasons).

Normally, these details would go over Rean’s head, reasoning that these people simply invited him along because they were too kind for their own good. However, being reminded of Alisa and Gaius’ definitions of friendship and seeing Jusis, Machias, Laura, and Fie’s increased hostility to each other made him finally understand the difference between being friends with someone and not being friends with someone. 

To put it simply: Rean would not be consistently walking and eating with all these people if they were not friends.

That thought made him realize two things. One was that -oh goddess- he was actually friends with some of these people since the first day of school but he just didn’t register it in his mind. The second was that... he felt like he actually belonged somewhere. 

Well, not exactly. He could never truly belong with them as long as he held all these dark secrets to himself.

However, it was becoming glaringly obvious that his friends were willing to accept him… they still wanted Rean to be there with them. 

As much as he wanted to refuse, knowing that he didn’t deserve this, he also didn’t want to be the one to disappoint them. After they helped someone like him so much, he felt like they deserved everything they wanted. 

His cheeks flushed at the memory they all shared when he woke up in the hospital a second time. His friends were all around him, teasing him for having a late night adventure while Alisa snapped a photo. His room was also occupied by some flowers, a surplus of jello, and awfully written school notes.

(Mysteriously enough, there was also a keychain of a yellow origami horse attached to his ARCUS. No one confessed who put it there. Seeing as it did no harm, he kept it. He didn’t want to offend the person who put it there either, even if they were keeping silent about it).

Yeah… They deserved everything they wanted. Even if that something was his pathetic self.

He recalled Emma's words about how it was only fair for her, as their friend, to share her secret identity. It had been three weeks now, and the results of revealing her secret were only positive. She was much less shy, talking more about herself and her family with pride and adoration, and she freely used magic for entertainment and helpfully convenient purposes. She looked much less nervous and acted more confidently, putting her foot down whenever someone acted as childish as her grandmother.

(It was funny to see Emma and Alisa tag team to scold Instructor Sara for being an irresponsible adult).

Anyway, it seemed like everyone benefited from Emma opening up to them, cracking more smiles and forming closer bonds.

From this observation, Rean figured that his friends would appreciate it if he opened up a little to them too. Obviously, he couldn’t say anything about his past. No, the least he could do was share a ‘good’ piece of himself… if there was even a part of him that could be considered ‘good’.

Perhaps, he could tell them his hobbies or his interests.

…

Well, he would first have to figure out what those were.

This led him back to his predicament on the first day of school: The question of his identity.

When he looked at his reflection, he usually saw a monster. In his eyes, the light that bounced off the surface of a mirror or water was mostly colorless, only letting him see black, white, and crimson red. Fortunately, ever since his hair was cut, he saw this image less frequently, replaced by a stranger. 

Even after the passing of nearly two months, Rean still didn't know the person he saw in the mirror.

Actually… that was a lie. Hearing his friends’ observations of him, he recently realized that instead of seeing a stranger in the mirror, the truth was that he was blindfolded when he stared at his reflection; it wasn't that he didn't know who he was, he just refused to see himself.

It was hard to believe that he was not a monster... That he was as dependable as his friends said he was.

But if he tried… maybe he would find something more to him that wasn’t just a demon, a puppet, or something that only feared failing to protect important people. Maybe… Maybe there was something mundane about him that was a remnant of his humanity. 

He doubted it. However, on the slim chance that he actually did find something, his friends deserved to see what was left of what made him human. It was the least he could do for them. 

And that was why he was currently in the library, staring at a short book titled, “100 Hobbies to Try Out.”

Where to start...

“Hey, Rean!” He turned his head up to see a familiar silver-haired upperclassman walking toward him, loosely carrying a fishing rod over his shoulder. “What are you doing with your nose in a book? It’s a free day, for Aidios’ sake! Learn to have a little fun for once!”

“I- Uh…” Rean closed the book. “I’m just trying to find stuff that might interest me.”

Crow crossed his arms, eyebrows raising in curiosity. “Setting off on a journey of self discovery, eh?” He gripped the rod with one hand and offered it to Rean. “Here. Try fishing.”

Looking at the object with mixed feelings, Rean made no move to take the proffered item. “You don’t mind if I use your fishing rod?”

“This ain’t mine. Kenneth was just looking for a fishing buddy and Sara apparently volunteered me to be the sacrifice.”

Lilac eyes slightly narrowed, knowing the basics of how the other ticked by now. “And you want me to be your substitute?”

“Pretty much.” Crow winked, waggling the fishing rod in front of him. “So is my super cute junior—whom I’m very grateful for, by the way—willing to save me?”

“Flattery will get you nowhere,” Rean said even though he was blushing slightly. There were some aspects of friendship that he got really used to. For example, he grew quite comfortable with touch. He didn’t flinch whenever someone hugged him or when Crow wrapped an arm around his shoulders (like right now, actually). The sensation of warmth and touch was almost too irresistible now, he couldn’t help but lean closer. Compliments, however, were still impossible for Rean to mentally and emotionally deal with. “Slacking won’t get you anywhere either.”

“Nor will working too much. Come on~”

Rean almost frowned at the implication. He didn’t think he overworked himself that much… Or did he?

“Well, since neither of us are going to strike a balance by ourselves, how about we make a little deal?” They walked out of the Student Union Building and through the school gates as Crow talked. “While you teach me how to be a responsible student, I’ll teach you how to relax once in a while!”

With uneasiness, Rean finally grabbed the fishing rod. He remembered he used to go on fishing trips with his mom and dad. While the thought of doing such an activity washed him with nostalgia, it also brought a sense of emptiness, reminding him of what he could never have again. He fought against the feeling, knowing that abandoning this task would be abandoning the possible ‘good’ that hid in himself.

On the other hand, deals with Crow never worked out well...

---

He was right. This deal fell apart immediately, but this time it wasn’t even Crow’s fault. 

Rean stared at the fishing rod as if it was a gift from Aidios. He didn’t expect to lose track of time or continue the activity until his bucket was filled with fish. It was just, the peace of waiting for his line to sink and the thrill of catching a fish were too addicting. It was simply hard to stop, especially when his heart continued to beat in excitement.

Did… Did that mean he enjoyed fishing?

While he couldn’t quite grasp the feelings that were fluttering in his chest, he decided that he honestly wouldn’t mind doing this again. That meant fishing could be a hobby.

His hobby.

Vaguely, he remembered a time when his mom declared that she was going to earn the ‘Divine Angler’ title. Even if she was alive, she would probably never get the title because she was awful at fishing. Maybe… Maybe he could try to get that title in her stead?

He blinked to himself, shocked.

He just made a goal for himself that didn’t involve curses or the end of the world. That was new. This time, the emotions that coursed through his veins were a familiar feeling of determination.

There was no doubt about it. He liked fishing.

Though, had it always been so easy to figure out his interests? He’d felt neutral about most activities until today, not able to tell if he liked or disliked something. Did something change or was this simply the power of fishing?

And so here he was, half an hour later, doing all the work fishing while he was leaning back-to-back with Crow who was probably dozing off based on the sound of his steady breathing. 

It was so peaceful…

Which meant it couldn’t last long.

“Woo! Fish!”

Someone cannon-balled into the river, splashing the two students with water. Immediately, Rean moved forward to see the person who dove in the water and possibly save them from drowning if needed. Of course, this action made him leave his initial position, accidentally leaving Crow ‘s back to fall against the ground.

“Ow.”

Rean grabbed the hand of the person who had jumped into the water and pulled her up. Upon seeing turquoise hair and amber eyes, his eyes widened in surprise.

What… What was Millium doing here!?

“Millium…” A voice behind him sighed, but sounded slightly amused. He almost gaped, recognizing the voice. “What did I say about having some self control?”

He wasn't aware of the reason why two Ironbloods decided to show up at Trista, though his intelligence on what the other members did nowadays was limited anyway. He'd only been reporting to his dad once a week, and it was just his observations on the Schoolhouse. No other information was exchanged much.

“But Lechterrrr! It’s so hot out here!” The girl whined as the man picked her up by the arm.

“Sure, kid,” Lechter looked at Rean and Crow with an apology in his eyes, his eyes lingering on the former slightly longer, before he started to walk away, dragging Millium away with him. “Sorry about that. Guess we’ll be on our way~”

They awkwardly watched the pair leave as quickly as they had arrived.

Rean’s heart couldn’t stop pounding. His relationship with the Ironbloods was complicated, to say the least. He had worked with all of them a few times when he was under the persona of the Ashen Saint, but many of them didn’t know who was underneath the mask.

For varying reasons, Rufus and Altina were the only ones who knew that Rean and the Ashen Saint were one and the same, but their relationships were strictly professional. Lechter probably had suspicions, but was stumped with how Rean could possibly change his natural black strands of hair to white without any dye or a wig. The others had no clue. 

On the other hand, Lechter and Claire were very much aware that Rean was the son of Osborne and sometimes visited Ymir to treat him like a younger brother. It was another family that Rean didn’t think he earned or deserved, so he kept them at a distance like with his adoptive family.

Millium was the only one who didn’t know the connection between Rean and Osborne or the Ashen Saint, though it was most likely because she didn’t think it was important enough to do any investigation. For this, he was grateful because if she knew, then there was no way she could pretend that they were strangers and would probably compromise his identity. 

He prodded Crow’s head with his knuckles, signaling him to get up. The student was still lying on the ground, though his expression could only be described as contemplative. Eventually noticing his stare, Crow’s face relaxed and he sighed playfully, “Mm. Yeah, keep doing that. Feels nice.”

Rean immediately stopped and took a step away. For some reason, he suddenly felt the urge to push the other into the river. 

He didn’t act on his urge though, unsure if that was something friends were allowed to do with each other. 

Instead, he grabbed Crow’s hand and forced him up to his feet. While he was at it, he shoved a list into the other’s hand as well. “These are requests from the student council,” Rean explained, scratching his cheek with his other hand. “I know I kind of got too absorbed in fishing, but we can still apply our deal to my errands.”

A silver eyebrow was raised. “You sure this isn’t just a sneaky way of you asking for some help?”

Oh. It did sound like that, didn’t it? That was another aspect of friendship that Rean had trouble tolerating. Help was something friends gave to each other without expecting anything, and he was still uncomfortable with the idea of people helping him out for free. His friends didn’t deserve to spend any more time or energy on him than they already were.

His hand almost retreated, taking the list with it, but the paper wouldn't leave the other's fingers. 

“Just kidding~” Crow’s voice cut through his thoughts. He looked at Rean with an amused look, as if he was just playfully testing his limits. “A deal’s a deal, right? Let’s go.”

He nodded. He could do deals. He didn't mind being given something as long as something was taken. That way, it was somewhat fai—  

Before he could think more about it, he was pushed forward, toward the location of the first request.

(In the distance, an annoyed looking Jusis walked up to Lechter, though the effort was extremely difficult because Millium was clinging to his chest, splayed across him like a spider. With an impressive deadpan, he asked, "Is this your child?")

---

Something did change.

He realized this when they finished up his tasks from the student council. Normally when he did tasks for other people, he felt guilty, wishing that he could do more to help. It was kind of the same when he acted like the Ashen Saint, either being driven by guilt or by his orders. Helping others out wasn’t something he wanted to do, it was something he needed to do. His feelings about the action were the same he felt about breathing: neutral, leaning toward negative. 

(Though sometimes he questioned why the world allowed him to keep breathing.)

Today, however, was different. Very different.

With strange clarity, he noticed that the clients would smile, praise, and thank them when they completed the request.

It made him feel warm inside, happy that he was able to help. Only small amounts of guilt or emptiness trailed after his positive emotional experience. 

“Man, can I get the best student of the year award yet? That was a work out,” Crow groaned, stretching out his arms, before he turned to look at Rean. “Well, now that you turned me into a responsible student that will only last until I fall asleep, it’s my turn to teach you how to have some fun.”

Honestly, Rean felt happy enough doing this work. But a deal was a deal.

He carefully watched his bandana-wearing friend take out some sort of magazine from the inside of his jacket and waved it in front of his eyes. Scrutinizing the picture and words carefully, Rean raised an eyebrow in confusion. 

“Is this a horse-racing magazine?” 

“Yup,” Crow emphasized the sound of the ‘p’. “We’re going to gamble!”

Oh. About that…

“Crow, I’ve been meaning to say this for a while now, but…” Rean watched the other tilt his head in confusion and suspicion. “Students aren’t allowed to gamble.”

“But that’s part of the fun , Rean! Man, you’re more strict than I thought.” Crow pouted but he swiftly put the magazine back in his jacket, as if he expected this kind of response. “What to do then? Can’t play Blade because Towa confiscated my cards yesterday when she caught me gambling and she still hasn’t given them back… Oh, how about I show you that special something I promised?”

Rean didn’t remember Crow promising him anything, but before he had a chance to speak his mind, he was grabbed by the wrist and dragged toward the Engineering building. 

---

Rean could understand why George did not look amused.

“So let me get this straight,” the secret gnome crossed his arms while he recounted Crow’s request. “You want me to let Rean test drive Angie’s orbal bike?”

Not only did it sound more complicated than necessary, Rean wasn’t even sure why Crow thought this was a good idea in the first place. He had no experience driving. The only thing he did that could even remotely be compared to driving was riding a horse

“Pretty much,” Crow smirked, undoubtedly enjoying George’s exasperation. “I’m just trying to show Rean some fun~”

“You’re not exactly stealing any hearts by showing off your friend’s property.”

Rean chuckled nervously, gaining their attention. “I don’t have to.”

George stared at him in deep thought before his  gaze softened and he smiled in defeat. “Well, Angie, Crow and Towa all adore you and…” Rean cheeks flushed slightly at the blatant statement. “Angie was planning on sending you a request soon anyway, so I’ll let you get early access.”

“I knew I could count on you, George!” Crow grinned as he leaned his elbow against his friend's shoulder. 

Rean watched with interest as George lightly pushed Crow off, used to his antiques by now. He guessed that meant friends could indeed push each other in a playful manner.

He mentally jotted that down.

---

Driving an orbal bike was nothing like riding a horse. Well, that was an unfair comparison because horse riding was a distant memory now and he didn’t remember associating any significant emotions to the sport (though, at the time, he had trouble feeling many things).

However, zooming down the highway, narrowly avoiding monsters on the road, and letting his hair fly wildly in the wind just felt…

Exhilarating.

Every twist of his wrist assured him of his control, and every push on the gas pedal and the subsequent rush of wind made him crave for more speed. Even though he was moving so fast, he was completely attuned to his immediate environment so he could avoid any danger. 

His mind was so utterly focused on the present. The feeling of adrenaline rushing through his veins, of the wind blowing against his face, and of knowing that the only thing that mattered at the moment was just him and the bike was just so… 

 

Freeing.

 

It was too soon when he returned to Trista, seeing four people instead of two.

He hopped off the bike, a little disappointed that it was all over, when he noticed the expressions of his upperclassmen. They all stared at him with gaping mouths, feelings of surprise and awe danced in their eyes.

“What’s wrong?” Rean immediately wondered if he accidentally messed up.

Towa was the first to shake herself from her stupor, embarrassedly holding her arms up to try to hide the expression of her continued awe. “Nothing’s wrong!” She exclaimed while she flashed him a pleasant smile. “It’s just… I never noticed it before, but…” She gulped, trying to find the right words. “Your smile is kind of… mesmerizing.”

He almost choked. They were acting like this because of something as simple as that?

“Yeah, you’d think he’d never smiled before. I’d totally snatch him up right now if he was a girl~” Angie helpfully added before she nudged Crow with her elbow. “This one might be a keeper~”

Crow opened his mouth to say something, but some sort of strangled noise left his throat instead.

Rean had no idea what to think of that.

“I can’t believe you had no experience before because your driving was splendid, Rean,” George saved his friend from trying to make another attempt at speaking normally. “I also got some good test results out of that, so could I ask you to write up a report of your experience later?” 

Rean shyly scratched his cheek, nodding.

“Anyway, care to join us for lunch?” Angelica caught his attention as she leaned her arm over his shoulder. “Crow and George will be paying, of course, for their earlier transgression of not telling us about using my bike beforehand.”

“Oh, but they did this for me, so I should be the one paying,” Rean immediately offered, now feeling guilty.

Angelica easily brushed off his concerns. “We’re not going to let our cute underclassman pay for us. Come on, let’s go!”

Well, he had no choice now…

---

Rean didn’t expect a peaceful lunch to devolve into a food fight instigated by Crow and Angelica. He also didn’t expect George to have brought a water gun and a cannon designed to launch food at people as if he expected something like this to happen.

Naturally, the upperclassmen were all kicked out, but not by the owner of Kirche’s cafe. Towa apparently decided to take responsibility and kick her friends and herself out of the cafe, profusely apologizing for the mess they made and would make sure they would pay for and clean up everything. She then realized that they couldn’t clean their mess if they were kicked out, so she then proceeded to ‘unkick’ herself and her friends and forced them into extreme cleaning duty.

Towa also wouldn’t allow Rean to help because he didn’t do anything wrong (he had been too confused to even join the chaos) which was why he was standing awkwardly outside the cafe.

Still, as confused as he was, he couldn't deny that he really enjoyed his day. His bones were pleasantly buzzing with an odd sort of energy and he almost wanted to keep chasing after the things that caused him to feel this way 

(Almost.)

He was unconsciously humming to the background music that had played in Kitchen's Cafe, enjoying a mindless walk, when someone approached him.

“Rean!”

Snapping out of his thoughts, Rean turned his head to see a noble approaching him. Upon seeing the flash of sea-green eyes lock onto him, his smile tightened.

Alphonse Henzel. The guy who claimed to be dating Elise. With a few letter exchanges with his parents, Rean learned that this noble was only a suitor, not in an official relationship with his sister. On closer inspection with his ties to the Intelligence Division, Rean found nothing out of the ordinary with his background. 

(So, this guy wasn't a threat.)

Of the two sons of a respectable barony, Alphonse was the younger. In noble politics, that meant instead of inheriting and managing his parents’ land, he would only be expected to marry the daughter of another noble house, in hopes of gaining money, wealth or power.

The Schwarzer barony was in a weird position in all of this since Rean was originally a commoner and showed no interest in inheriting the Schwarzer barony. The commoner aspect of him made other nobles ridicule the Schwarzers and think it would be a disgrace to be related to such a tainted family. Yet, the aspect of him declining his right to being heir made Elise’s hand in marriage a great target. Marrying her would most likely grant the noble ownership over most of the Schwarzer family’s possessions whenever Father inevitably stepped down from being head of the barony. 

It was clear as day that Alphonse just wanted to marry Elise to benefit from their property.

And the thought of Elise marrying someone for a reason not related to love made him seethe.

Though… It wasn't like he could say anything about it. Of everyone in this world, he was the least worthy to be a part of the kind Schwarzer family…

“Is there anything I can help you with, Alphonse?” Rean masked the way he warily eyed the noble. Despite how Alphonse pretended to be nice, the guy was awful at hiding how much he actually disliked Rean. Every encounter they had since the last month had at least one condescending insult thrown at Rean. 

In a sense, it could be amusing to see Alphonse fail to gain his approval and try to wriggle his way closer to the Schwarzers. But, in a way, Rean appreciated the ' honesty'— 

“Of course,” came an entitled huff. In Alphonse’s white-gloved hands, he was nursing a full cup of tea. Part of Rean was aware that it was against noble etiquette to take a full cup of tea away from a table or tray, but he decided to keep that part of himself silent. “I wanted to talk to you about the train incident you were involved in.”

It was hard to not pull his lips into a thin line. “Why?”  

The noble leaned forward with eyes glaring down at Rean with disgust, his usual ‘nice’ act completely non-existent. “Do you even know what happened in the few days that you were unconscious?”

“No..?”

A short, disbelieving laugh escaped from the back of Alphonse’s throat. “Hmmph, of course you didn’t, you self-absorbed prick. You were so busy having a vacation in your head that you neglected to care about how those around you would be affected.”

His muscles stiffened.

“Like the good future brother in law that I am, I decided to pay you a visit in the hospital.” Without warning, Alphonse’s free hand darted forward to grab Rean’s collar and aggressively drag him up so Rean would be unable to escape his eyes. “And what do I find but your sister crying by your side, begging you to wake up while you woefully ignore her.”

Logic. A counterargument flared up in Rean’s mind for how unreasonable his line of thinking was, but his mind shut down because him, Elise, and crying should never be in the same sentence. 

Not again. 

“It seems like blatant ignorance is all that you are. And I thought you said you cared about the Schwarzers. You’re not even close to half the man I thought you were.”

He couldn’t even be offended. No matter how hard he tried, he could never not fail his family—

Deep breath. Sigh.

“I am ashamed that I put her and my parents through that experience,” Rean calmly responded, arms hanging limply by his sides and not doing anything about Alphonse’s iron grip on his collar. “I have no other excuse other than that I couldn’t do anything—”

“Yes, I’ve been getting that idea about you: That you can’t do anything good.” Rean’s fingers twitched. “Only thing you’re good at is tanking your family’s reputation and stressing them out.”

An automatic chuckle escaped the back of his throat.

"I know."

He knew that. Not a day went by when he didn't think about how much of a burden he was to his family. To hear someone state the obvious though… Some part of him was relieved that there was another person who shared his thoughts.

Alphonse's eyes widened for a moment, clearly startled by his admission. Rean was too, only because it had been such a long time since he said anything like this to anyone.

"Then…" the noble's glare intensified, scrutinizing every crack and shadow of his face. "Say it."

"Huh?"

"Say that you're worthless!" Alphonse aggressively spat the words out as he abruptly let go of Rean's collar with a small shove.

"I.." the words died in his throat. There were too many things too wrong about this, and he was finally realizing it from the cold chill prickling up his neck. Like, why did Alphonse care about what he said? And also…

He'd dedicated this whole day to finding something normal about himself— something not worthless. And, surprisingly, he was successful. To speak his degrading thoughts into existence right now, today, felt like a betrayal. To his so-called friends. 

“Tsk,” Alphonse clearly didn’t like his hesitance, scowling as raised the cup of tea in his other hand to his mouth. After taking a sip, he withdrew the cup and muttered, “You know, despite how much of a disgrace you are, I’m still  thinking of being kind enough to offer you an invitation to a tea party.”

Rean stepped backward, sensing it was time to make his leave soon. “It’s fine.”

“Oh no, I insist. You wouldn’t want to waste such delicately crafted, expensive tea, now would you? Don’t you know how much effort those poor peasants put into producing this?”

“Really, I’m good. I just had lunch—” Before he could finish, Alphonse stepped forward and raised the tea cup above his head. 

Even with the sensation of warm liquid pouring onto his head and streaming down his face to his clothes, it took Rean longer than he would’ve liked to process what just happened. 

“Much better, it serves as a fine decoration for you, emphasizing your filth. You can thank me later,” Alphonse laughed, letting the ceramic cup fall along with the last drop of tea it contained. Once it hit and rolled off his head, the cup shattered onto the ground with a sickening crash, pulling Rean out of his stupor.

What...

He didn’t even know what to feel. Despite Alphonse’s rudeness, Rean wasn’t angry with the noble at all. The tea staining his clothes and making him uncomfortably soaked in the warm liquid didn’t bother him. Instead, he just felt… nothing.

Perhaps he was no stranger to such a feeling but, after experiencing a day so full of fun, the impact of being swallowed by a vast emptiness so suddenly ripped the air out of his lungs. He felt like he was falling to a place so dark, so constricting, without any end. Such a reality check made him remember…

Another laugh almost escaped him. .

Honestly, what was the point in opening up to his classmates about the ‘good’ things about him when, in the end, he was only nothi—

“HEY!”

Rean barely had the energy to shift his eyes toward the source of the voice, seeing Machias furiously stomp toward them. For a moment, he wondered what he’d done to earn his ire again too, but his classmate stopped in front of Alphonse and snatched his collar in a livid grip.

“Get your grimy hands off me, you violent—”

“What the hell is wrong with you?!” Machias’ voice boomed over the irritated noble’s, silencing him at once. “What kind of fancy bullshit do they teach you nobles to let you even think it’s okay to treat people like this?!”

“I have no need to answer to the likes of you!” Alphonse smacked Machias’ fist and tried to pull away, all to no avail. 

“Tell me or I’ll ruin that hideous face you’re so proud of!”

“That’s not an insult, coming from a repulsive fussock like you! Punch me and you get suspended!”

“Maybe I will—”

“Machias.” Rean grabbed his classmate’s shoulder tightly. The threat of a member of Class VII being suspended was too real, especially when Machias got this volatile. Once the raging lime-green eyes met his, he smiled. “It’s fine.” 

How strange… Before now, the act of smiling never felt so exhausting. So... heavy.

(So badly, he wanted to let it drop.)

“How is this fine?!” Machias’ eyes were pinpricks, his exasperation leaving him breathless. “He poured tea all over you and threw the cup against your head, Rean! How is that fine?!”

“It’s just tea.” It wasn't even hot. Really, he could think of worse things that could’ve happened. 

“It’s just tea—?!”

“But of course it’s just tea to him. It might even be a privilege,” Alphonse huffed, finally freeing himself from the hold, only because Machias’ attention was more focused on Rean at the moment. “Like the liquid being soaked into his clothes, Rean here knows his place as just a stain in society.”

No. It was just tea. Nothing else.

“His place?!” Machias' screech was full of injustice as he failed to reclaim his death grip on the noble, only because Rean was holding his shoulder with a death grip, more to ground himself than to hold the other back. “Who gave you the right to decide—”

“Machias.” Why was he being so angry anyway? It was just tea. 

It was just him. 

“It’s nothing to get riled up over. It’s not like anyone got hurt.” Not like it should even matter if Rean did get hurt.

"You—"

"He said it's fine, so it's fine. Lay off it, Regnitz. For your own good, I'd suggest you stay out of his business."

"Don't tell me what to do!"

"Hmph, the one time I give thoughtful advice to a lowly commoner," came a scoff in the distance. Rean only gained awareness that Alphonse had started to walk away from them. "Don't say I didn't warn you."

And he left.

…

"Rean."

His shoulder was being shaken.

"Yes?"

"Are you… okay?"

"Yeah."

"How?"

...Why did Machias sound like this was wrong? Rean had problems, but this—whatever this was—wasn’t a problem. To be indifferent instead of angry wasn't a problem... Right?

"It was just tea." Even he could admit that he sounded like a broken record, but he didn't know how else to explain that Alphonse's action seemed so… insignificant. "Am I... supposed to feel something?"

He didn't mean to sound so lost.

"...Rean. Look at me."

He was. He'd been looking at Machias this whole time. Not knowing what else to do, he focused his eyes and only noticed the indignation and horror storming behind those glasses.

With clenched teeth, his classmate spoke slowly. "How long has this been happening to you?"

"This never happened to me before."

Machias' jaw twitched in surprise, as if he expected this was normal for Rean. "And you're okay with this?"

He nodded. "I just have to take a shower and do laundry earlier, but I'm not bothered."

"That doesn't mean it's not wrong," Machias grumbled as he dug through his pocket. It didn't take long for his hands to retreat with a couple napkins folded between his fingers. "Here."

“I don’t want to get your napkins dirty—”

“What else are napkins for!?” Machias snapped but seemed to immediately regret it afterward. He looked away for a second, embarrassed, and tried to calm himself down. “Just… Get yourself cleaned up while I fix this mess.” He pointed at the mess on the floor before locking his gaze back into Rean. “And if that happens again, make sure to get help. "

He shoved the napkins into Rean’s arms before he walked away, never looking back.

To himself, Rean knew he wouldn't heed Machias' advice.

Though, it was strange...

Out of all the changes that happened in the past month, Machias’ behavior was the most bizarre. For one, he seemed to treat Rean with the most caution, though it didn’t seem to be caused by his prejudice. Machias acted like he was… very concerned, but didn’t know what to do.

Oftentimes, Machias would give him a spare umbrella on rainy days (he didn’t mind the rain which was why he rarely brought an umbrella), argue with a noble just so he didn’t have to forced to go to the noble’s salon with them, and try to start decent a conversation with him (even though they were always short and awkward). While Rean appreciated the other’s effort, he didn’t know what he did to earn this change in behavior. As far as he knew, Machias was still uncomfortable with nobles like Jusis and Laura, so it wasn’t like his perspective on nobility changed.

Rean may never know what caused this change in attitude, but he was happy about the possibility that Machias wouldn’t hate nobles forever. Perhaps there was a possibility for him to become friends with Laura, and maybe even Jusis.

Drying himself up with the napkins, he returned to the dorms. One shower and one uniform change later, he checked the time and realized he still had time to kill. Even with Alphonse’s interruption, he had finished all his student council requests extremely early, thanks to Crow’s assistance.

He thought about starting the investigation of the Old Schoolhouse, but it was too early. Many of his classmates were probably still busy with clubs. He would investigate it by himself, but his friends practically demanded him to bring them along next time, especially Emma because it was her duty even though she still didn’t know who the Awakener was.

He would have decided to go back to the river and start fishing again, but someone called his name. He looked to the side to see Laura approaching him. Her hair was wet, indicating that she must have just finished swim practice. 

“Laura?” 

“I have a request for you.” She held up a paper in front of him. He looked at the paper for a moment, eyes widening at what the words asked of him. “Spar with me.”

For the first time since the field study, Rean almost paled. He didn’t think his spirits could get any more dampened. 

Ah. That. Laura used to ask him to spar with her in the first month of school, but he'd always declined, saying he was busy. He had nothing against her. He just didn’t trust himself to keep his self-control if the battle got too intense. 

Admittedly, sword fighting was one of the only activities that Rean knew he enjoyed doing already. Well, ‘enjoy’ may not be the right word for it. He just knew that he would enter a state of euphoria whenever a battle was exciting enough for his blood to pump, for sparks to fly off his blade, and for him to enter a trance-like dance where all that mattered was him, his sword, and his opponent, 

And then if his opponent was the one to fall in the fight, then he just wanted to stab it and stab it and stab it— 

“Are you okay?” The blue-haired teen asked, walking beside him.

“Yeah.” Honestly, he wasn't sure if he liked fighting or if these feelings were just Ishmelga’s influence. 

He had no problem fighting with monsters. He was desensitized to killing most of them, so he usually didn’t feel anything when he killed them. Even if he did lose control, it wouldn’t matter too much because they were monsters. He also had no problem fighting the fake park rangers at Lunaria Nature Park because they were also too weak for him to get the blood pumping. 

However, fighting a difficult human opponent could awaken the bloodthirst within him. From watching Laura spar Gaius and Jusis sometimes, Rean knew that her skills were strong enough to challenge him. If they sparred together, he could accidentally lose sight of himself and fight to kill, just like…

Yeah, no. He was not ready for this. At all.

And yet he was so deep in his thoughts that he hadn’t registered that he walked with her to the training hall.

Well, at least he could find comfort in the fact that he was a failure in the Eight Leaves One Blade school for once. Laura’s skill could outmatch his skill and he could lose before anyone got serious.

“Can we have a referee?” He was still anxious.

“We’re just sparring. We’re not having a duel,” Laura answered while she readied her blade. 

“Can we at least cast Adamantine Shield on ourselves before we start?” He needed some form of precaution in place if he could feel barely comfortable enough to go through with this. 

“Alright.”

When the shields were up, they readied their weapons, and their swords clashed. 

It was obvious before, but Rean learned first hand that Laura was an incredibly hard hitter. Every time he caught her blade with his own, his arms always shook, defenses nearly breaking. That was good. If she had more power and skill than him, then he was sure to lose. He didn’t have to worry about hurting her.

However.

His blood registered that as a challenge.

He could feel his thoughts being consumed by the void, replaced by instincts that desired blood and suffering. He struggled to fight this, desperate to not hurt the girl exchanging blows with him.

Being too focused on his inner turmoil was mostly the reason why his shield broke.

He collapsed to the ground, physically and mentally exhausted. Laura looked at him, disappointed.

“You held back.”

Rean immediately felt bad. Holding back was an insult to all martial artists, and Laura, someone who took her practice very seriously, would be greatly offended.

“I’m sorry.” He lowered his head, not able to hide the guilt in his voice. “My mind is just focused on a lot of things at the moment.”

“There’s no need to explain yourself. I could tell from the way you fought.” The disappointment vanished from her voice and she looked at him with compassion. “It’s my fault for forcing this out of you. It’s just, ever since I recovered from my concussion, I’ve been itching for a fight... and I’ve been wanting to fight you for a while now.”

Rean couldn’t stop himself from chuckling. Classic Laura. “It's fine! I heard you got your concussion from the field study. It probably wasn't fun, being unable to do much.” Apparently she and Fie were fighting despite how Instructor Sara was supposedly there to keep everyone on their best behavior, and their fight grew so out of control that Laura got hit on her head too hard.

No surprise, Laura’s view of Fie was definitely much worse now.

“Yes. And...” Laura bowed her head. “I’m sorry. I wasn’t able to visit you guys in the hospital because of that.”

“It’s okay!” Rean immediately stammered, wanting her to raise her head. “You had an understandable reason not to!” It wasn’t like he expected people to visit him in the first place. 

Finally, Laura raised her head and walked to the side to grab her bag. “I still wanted to make it up to you. I thought a good spar would be good for you, but I guess it wasn’t a good idea." She reached into her bag to retrieve something. Moments later, she presented an object to Rean. "Luckily, I had a back up plan.”

It was an origami horse.

“In Legram, paper horses symbolize strength, vitality, endurance, and freedom,” Laura explained. “Remember in history class how Saint Lianne Sandlot obtained a fatal wound by sacrificing herself to save Dreichels? Legends say that before she died, the Eisenritter crafted a hundred paper horses for her, hoping for her recovery. Since then, it has become a custom to fold paper horses to people who are bedridden. They also say that if you make a hundred paper horses, your wish will come true.” She weakly smiled for a moment. “I did it for my mom before she passed.”

That was… extremely touching. It would be a dishonor to refuse such a gift despite how his mind automatically returned to the question of whether he was deserving of this or not.

He was then reminded of the keychain attached to his ARCUS. If this was a symbol that originated from Legram and even had ties to the Lance Maiden… then there was only one person who could have given this to him.

No way— 

He blinked away the wetness in his eyes. 

Lianne hated him and wanted to forget about him (rightfully so). At least, she should. He had caused her so much trouble, trying and failing to recover from Ishmelga’s influence… 

Really, how could the one person who had to live with him when he was at his absolute worst for an entire year actually care about him? She was literally a saint and he was literally the devil. She should hate him. Though, he supposed, the fact that she was a saint was the only reason why she gave him this meaningful gift.

Still, he couldn’t just throw away this key chain now. That would be extremely rude and he did not want her to hate him more. Her efforts deserved better than that.

Unconsciously, he stepped forward, wanting to hug Laura because he was too overwhelmed by emotions, but he stopped himself. 

But apparently he didn’t have to think too hard on it because Laura crossed the distance and wrapped him in a light embrace. 

This felt… strange.

It was different from the one Alisa, Gaius, and Emma gave him, which felt earned.

It was similar to the undeserving hugs from his adoptive family.

And… because Laura's presence was full of grace, strength, honor, and compassion, he could almost feel like he was here with Lianne if he closed his eyes.

His hands twitched.

“Thank you.” His strained voice almost choked and he awkwardly pulled back, recomposing himself. Shyly scratching his cheek, he asked, “To make up for my pitiful performance during our spar, would you mind if you joined me for my Old Schoolhouse investigation?”

Laura didn't seem bothered by how he cut the hug short and eagerly grinned. “Of course!”

---

Thankfully, there were no issues with the Old Schoolhouse investigation. With a team of him, Laura, Emma, Elliot, and Alisa, they breezed through the new level. The only thing suspicious about the trial was that most of the monsters could breathe fire.

It was as if the trial was testing to see if he still couldn’t handle flames.

Thankfully, Rean was mostly over his fear now as long as he had no involvement with their creation. He may have shook a little and needed to hold someone’s hand sometimes, but he never froze up in battle nor endangered anyone. Somehow, having a panic attack over how a wisp grazed his skin seemed like the distance past now, even though a month didn’t even pass yet.

So when they left the Old Schoolhouse, Rean felt a lot more confident about himself. He went to his room immediately afterward and took the time to look in a mirror, wondering if he would see someone different… wondering if he could catch a glimpse of the person his friends saw.

Soft, lilac eyes blinked back at him. This black haired boy was wearing a red Thors uniform and held a tachi.

This human loved his friends. He would do anything for them.

This teenager liked to fish. He wanted to be a divine angler.

This person enjoyed helping people out. He felt good when he saw other people smile.

This student was enthralled with riding an orbal bike. He wondered if he would get the chance to ride one again in the future.

This guy wasn’t scared of most fires. He thought, nowadays, that the fires were warm, as they should be.

 

  This fake, worthless noble selfishly burdened his adoptive family and deluded himself into thinking he could deserve these friends. 

This monster didn’t know if he liked fighting with his sword because he was traumatized by his past and a curse. 

But that was fine, the mirror couldn’t show that.

 

This, he assumed, was the Rean Schwarzer his friends liked and deserved.

He intended to keep it that way.

A few days later, when they finished the practical exams, Rean felt a lot less confident overall.

Who knew a single piece of paper with little words on it could be strong enough to send him into despair?

[Group A] Fie,  Jusis, Laura, Machias, Rean

[Group B] Alisa, Emma, Elliot, Gaius

Rean couldn’t help but wonder if Sara was drunk again when she made these groups. Actually, she had to be because these names were obviously intended to be in alphabetical order, but she mixed up Elliot and Emma's names. Plus, why else would she put those four in the same group together? And why would she think Rean could be an effective peacekeeper?

At the very least, it would be more reasonable to put the disaster pairs in separate groups.

The four obviously had complaints, to which Instructor Sara told them that she would change her mind if the four of them could beat her in a fight. They agreed, not wanting to be stuck alone with each other for two days again.

Watching this battle, Rean realized that this mess of a group was a lot more complicated than he had originally thought.

While the Jusis-Machias and Laura-Fie pairs contributed to most of their challenges, they weren’t the sole issue. It turned out that everyone had problems with almost everyone. For example, Machias had a lot of trouble putting faith in the girls, and in hindsight this shouldn’t have been surprising. First, Laura was a noble and he despised all nobles with a passion. Second, he seemed to be apprehensive about Fie’s status as a jaeger (and not everyone could be Elliot who could easily adapt to changed perceptions of people). He simply couldn’t work well with anyone.

Meanwhile, Jusis also showed an extent of uneasiness when working with Fie, probably for the same reason as Laura. This meant Fie couldn’t work well with anyone either.

Really, the only functional relationship here was Jusis and Laura, so it would have at least made sense to keep them paired to show some extent of teamwork in this group.

But that didn’t happen.

Machias wanted to pair with Laura to prove that he was capable of working with nobles and because he didn’t want the nobles to get so cocky to think that they could win this by themselves. Fie declared that she worked better alone, so she didn’t even bother to establish a combat link with Jusis.

To no one’s surprise, this group’s coordination was completely non-existent. Laura and Fie kept getting in each other’s way, often clashing blades with each other instead of the instructor. With Machias and Jusis, they argued about who should be doing what, resulting in them barely contributing to the fight or purposely sabotaging the other’s efforts.

Needless to say, Instructor Sara ended that fight before anyone could actually get hurt by their ‘allies’.

The rest of Class VII just nervously looked at Rean, wishing him luck.

Knowing that he had the worst of luck, he had a feeling that this would go terribly.

Notes:

Looks like things are improving for Rean... totally a calm before a storm.

Oh, and hello there Millium and Lechter! Wonder why those two appeared so early...

Also, I don't know how some of you people can just easily guess that the silent visitor last chapter was Lianne. Like come on, you're supposed to assume it's Laura because I already shoved most of Class VII there. The only hints that you got was that she didn't talk (making her special in a sense, but Laura also fits this because she's a more "action" than "talk" kind of person), she apparently did something, and that Elliot said that everyone fought and "someone" got "hurt bad."-- WAIT, maybe I shouldn't have been too subtle about it. I should have made him mention that Laura couldn't visit to make you readers really wonder who that person was... missed opportunity, but I'll change that right now for future readers lol. Congrats for guessing right tho!

Actual Author's Notes~

That thing with Legram and the paper horses was inspired by the "Sadako and the Thousand Paper Cranes" story where a girl wanted to fold 1000 paper cranes to have her wish granted: to live through her disease. She was able to fold over 600 before she died, and her friends and family folded the rest of the 1000 so her dream could be achieved. Yeah... um... this is totally not foreshadowing anything. Nope. Haha...

Anyway, next is probably Bareahard... It will be so much... pain- uh, I mean fun.

Thanks for reading, I'd appreciate a comment, and take care~

Chapter 8: Not Ready to Trust

Notes:

If you noticed how the relationship tags look a little different, I just changed the order from most prominent to lest prominent (instead of whatever I found first, heh). I mean, it probably doesn't matter because a lot of those relationships are very important anyway, but I didn't want to mislead people with the initial first tag because... it hasn't happened yet lol.

There used to be a time when Rean was fascinated by fire. His child-like mind processed the dancing flames as entertainment. His mom had taught him that its heat could be used to cook his favorite foods. His hands often reached out for that warmth, reminding him of the closeness of his family. 

He thought the most interesting aspect of a flame was that it could emit light. Every time night fell, and darkness curtained his vision, he felt lost. He felt alone. He felt scared. He didn’t like the darkness. 

He wanted his parents, but he couldn’t see them. Couldn’t feel them. After all, he was sleeping in his own room. If he felt too scared to sleep, then he would reach around to grab a certain item sitting on the table beside his bed. When his hands found the item (the lantern), he would quickly turn it on with memorized movements.

Each time, a little ember would spark inside the device, illuminating his surroundings. He could see again. He felt warm again. Sometimes, however, if he was still too unsettled by himself, he would use this light to lead him out of his room and guide him toward his family.

Fire was a constant companion that provided light and warmth. He could never be scared of it.

Until one night.

He couldn’t fall asleep because some kind of ‘bad’ feeling stirring in his gut was filling him with an eerie anxiety. Burdened with unbearable, confusing dread, He turned on his lantern and moved with the goal of finding his parents… well, ‘parent’. His dad was currently away for his job, but Rean just needed at least one person with him.

As usual, he left his room and headed toward his parents’ room, but he found a strange man on the way. The light from his lantern was reflecting off of the small puddles connected to each other on the ground; the origin of these puddles came from the strange liquid that cascaded down from the container the man was holding.

The man seemed surprised to see Rean, but not more than Rean was surprised to see the man. His dad had told him about ‘bad people’ who wanted to hurt them. Rean didn’t even have time to doubt whether or not this man was but because a gun was suddenly pointed at him, a clicking noise thundered in his ears.

He stood shocked still, wanting to scream for help but he felt compelled to stay silent.

The man quickly regained his composure and turned the gun away, seeing that it would be a waste of ammo since he currently had an easier way to kill the boy. The man lit up a cigarette before breathing it in.

Seeing this opening, all Rean could think about was protecting himself and his mom. The only tool he had to protect himself was the lantern, so he hoped that he could use it to knock out the man. Believing that the fire could protect him, he threw the lantern at the strange man.

The man casually dodged, unfazed, until they could hear the sound of glass shattering against the liquid on the ground.

Before Rean could process anything, flames of terrifying size erupted from the puddles of liquid, quickly stealing all the air and engulfing everything with an ocean of fire. The scorching tendrils burned his home, burned him and the man, and burned...

*BOOO— 

.̶͎͌̀̄͆   .̵̢̰͈̱̩͓͑ ̴̜͚̜̈́͗̍̈́̈̃͜͝   .̸͙̉ ̶̢̎  .̵̢̰͈̱̩͓͑.̶̨͇̳̻̝̬͓̻̺̰̹͙͓̫̪̓̄̋͘ͅ    .̷͙̮̗̟̥̓͒̈́̄́̈́̍̄̌̐̾̓̾̐̓̄̈́̇̐͋̉̈͆͘̚ͅ   .̷̮̕ ̷͇͔͈̫̣̂̍͗̎   .̴̸̢̡̧̦̣͔̗͎̲̣͈̥͙͉̱̲̙̥͓͖̘͍̤̦͊̋    .̸̛̟̻̳̝͉̘͐̅̔͊̿̈́͘   .̷̨͈͍͙̪͂͠͠   .̶̜̰̝̺͍̰̘̭͌̌̔̃̕͝    .̶̟̼̏ ̸̦̋  .̴ ̴  .̶̧̡̤̫̻͓̜̗̪̠̤̭̱̤̟͖̇̿̽̈͂̏͛͛̿̕̚͝

Rean jolted up, gasping for air. 

He hated that dream… that memory. It was a grim reminder of what he used to have and of the mistake that led him to lose everything. Sure, his house being set ablaze was inevitable by the time the jaegers targeted his house, but he was the one who catalyzed the destruction. If he hadn’t thrown that lantern or if he tackled that jaeger and bought more time, maybe his dad would have had more time to arrive and save them. Maybe his mom would still be alive and he would be living a different life right now…

He shook his head out of his thoughts. Thinking about the what ifs would only serve to make him more depressed and he didn’t really have the privilege to waste time experiencing such an emotion. Plus, he already had so many problems. He would never be able to function properly if thought about every transgression he’d made in his life. 

His eyes darted around to his surroundings, finally remembering where he was. He was currently lying down on the floor of the end of the second level of the Old Schoolhouse; a pool of colorful sepith were scattered around him. 

Right, he had slain all the fire-breathing monsters in the second level of the Old Schoolhouse all by himself. He had even been burnt a few times during the process, but he made it to the end. 

Happiness and relief flooded his senses. The next field study would separate him from his friends for the first time since… well, since he acknowledged they were friends. Getting over his fear was mostly because of their help, and he worried that he would be useless against fire without them. Thankfully, that was not the case. Sure, he did end up passing out at the end and he felt painfully weak at the moment, physically and mentally, but he was successful overall. For the upcoming field study, he wouldn’t have to worry about himself being a liability for once. He could spend all his focus on trying to get his four classmates to work together.

(Though, to be honest, he could really use a hand to grab onto for a moment.)

He continued to lay on the floor, trying to rest, when his ARCUS suddenly rang.

He flipped open his ARCUS to see Emma calling him.

“Emma?”

“Rean?” Her nervous voice echoed from the device. “Um... Where are you at the moment?” 

“At the Old Schoolhouse.” He checked the time to see that there was only an hour left until his train would leave. He didn’t realize that he was down here for the entire night and morning. Noticing that Emma was keeping quiet at the other end of the line, he questioned, “Why’d you ask?”

He heard an embarrassed chuckle as he ignored the pain of his sore muscles, scrambling up to his feet to leave the Old Schoolhouse and to the dorms. “Oh, it’s just—”

An angry, familiar hissing noise tried to interrupt her voice.

“--Celine here misses you.”

Louder hissing could be heard. He could hear Emma yelp before the call abruptly ended.

An amused chuckle left his throat. Celine, the black cat who had always accompanied him during his late night ‘training’, apparently missed him, according to Emma. That was a surprise. This whole month, he had continued his nightly training with only himself and the cat. While he was aware that letting others help him was apparently a cure to some of his inner conflict, he couldn’t bring himself to ask them to burden them with more of his problems. Today was the first day he went to train at the Old Schoolhouse instead of at the highway. He didn’t think the cat would care, considering she never looked pleased to be around him. 

Distantly, he wondered if Celine thought it was her duty to look after him. He did remember his mother’s stories mentioning how witches could have familiars. He wondered if Celine could be Emma’s familiar… The possible truth behind that statement gave clarity to Celine’s behavior, actually. 

He only doubted that was the truth because Emma never mentioned it. After all, what reason did she have to keep her familiar a secret when everyone already knew she was a witch..?

His thoughts were interrupted when he accidentally collided into someone and a hot liquid splashed onto his chest.

“Oh goddess! Are you okay, Rean!?” 

He must’ve been so distracted by his thoughts and lingering emotions if he hadn’t been able to sense Machias before their collision.

“I’m okay—” he hissed from the heat of the coffee that had spilled onto him. Machias took out a handkerchief to dry up the liquid. Held in his classmate’s other hand was an ARCUS device used to cast a healing art to cure the burn from the coffee (and from all the burns he had sustained from the Old Schoolhouse). 

“I’m sorry about that,” Machias muttered as he struggled to meet Rean’s confused eyes. “I… Uh, I’ll pay for whatever you need to clean your clothes.”

“I’m fine, really!”

Machias wore a flat expression when he finally let their eyes meet. He didn’t look like he believed Rean at all. A long period of silence descended upon them as Machias returned his focus to soaking up as much liquid with his handkerchief as he could from his outer jacket, before opening that up to dry his shirt as well.

Rean had trouble making sense of Machias’ behavior. Really, on the list of nice people he expected to treat him with kindness, he thought Machias would be dead last. His failure to properly work together with Laura and Jusis during the practical exam clearly showed he hadn’t gotten over his prejudice. And yet…

“Why are you doing this?” he finally mustered up the courage to ask the question that had been bothering him for nearly a month. 

“It was my fault.” 

If Rean had to be honest, he thought Machias had trouble owning up to his mistakes. He was pretty sure the noble-hating teen was fully aware that the reason his links with some of their classmates was so weak was mostly the fault of his prejudice. Otherwise, Laura would be able to link with him with no problem. Jusis too, if he didn't hold any grudges. However, in their cases, Machias didn't try to fix his 'fault' with these nobles. 

"But I'm a noble." So why help him ?

Machias flinched at that response as guilt washed over his features. “You were also a commoner. I also recently learned that not… all nobles are pieces of trash.”

Rean pressed his lips into a flat line, wondering if he should continue to press the issue. Considering he would spend this entire field study getting the four to acknowledge each other, he let himself ask, “So, one day, you might get along with Jusis and Laura?”

“Hell no! Not with that pompous ass! He represents EVERYTHING I hate about nobility!” Machias snapped immediately at the mere thought of getting along with Jusis. Then, with a calmer voice, he said, “Laura though… I’m trying. It’s just difficult to change my whole perspective on nobles over one day.” 

Okay, good. It seemed like Machias wasn’t completely blind or stubborn about his opinion on the subject of nobles anymore, so the beginning of this field study might be smoother than the last field study. However, there was still that other problem…

“How about with Fie? She’s not a noble.” Rean asked, carefully watching the other’s reaction to see if he was going too far with all these questions. Luckily, Machias didn’t seem to mind answering; instead of expressing annoyance, he just seemed uneasy.

“Yeah, but she’s a jaeger.” Machias pulled his hand back, satisfied with his effort to help dry the coffee spill on Rean’s shirt. “You know what they’re like. They only follow the money. And guess who has money?”

So did that mean Machias only saw Fie as a tool that could turn against any of them if money was presented to her? That… would make his apprehension more understandable. Also, because of Fie's consistent indifference, the others could easily assume that Fie didn’t care about anything, even other people. A former jaeger who didn’t care about people couldn’t have any redeeming qualities in their eyes. Therefore, they had little reason to trust her, let alone care about her. 

However, Rean was well aware that Fie could be mindful of her fellow classmates. The awfully written notes that she wrote for him while he was absent from school was proof that she cared about other people to an extent. Sure, the notes looked awful, but a lot of work was put into them, at least, when compared to her usual school notes. He was sure that if he could clear the misconception that Fie only cared about money and fighting, then Machias and maybe the others would be more friendly toward her. 

“There have been cases where nobles hired jaegers to destroy a commoner’s life, with no reason other than that the commoner just wanted to be successful.” Machias added, sneering in disgust. “Although most of those incidents were covered up and became mere rumors, I don’t doubt some of those noble scum truly committed those crimes.” 

Rean nodded, a little pale. He knew that all too well … But… “Fie wouldn’t do that,” he firmly replied, needing to defend the youngest member in the class. “She’s not a jaeger anymore.”

“Only in name.”

“So what?” A new voice entered their conversation. They turned their heads to see Jusis walking up to them, arms crossed. “Do you seriously believe that I will pay Claussell to kill you off?” he scoffed, now standing face to face with his rival. “I wouldn’t even think to waste a single mira coin for that effort, Regnitz.”

As expected, blood rushed to Machias’ face, body tensing up with irritation. “Did your fancy private noble lessons fail to teach you that it’s rude to eavesdrop, Albarea!?”

“Hmph. It’s not eavesdropping when you speak so loudly that all of Trista could hear you.”

“Fine then. If you really insist that you had any right to listen in on our conversation, then I must beg you to join our discussion,” Machias sneered, mocking the use of his polite language. “I’m not the only one who has problems with Fie. It’s obvious you’re uneasy around her too, despite having the money to get her to do whatever you wanted! Why’s that?”

Jusis coldly shrugged as he looked away, toward the direction of the train station. “That is hardly a reason for me to explain myself, especially at this moment when we are running low on time. I suggest we use this time to properly get Rean cleaned up.” He gestured to the large coffee stain on his uniform. 

“I’ll just change into a spare uniform in my room, you guys can go ahead!” he hurriedly spoke, not wanting his classmates to bother him with any more kind acts than necessary. He rushed to the dorms, ignoring Jusis’ flat look that could only express what a dumb idea it was to leave the two of them together. 

As Rean changed clothes in his room, he summarized the information he had on his four classmates. 

There were two major problems that hindered most healthy relationship-building in this group. The first problem was Machias’ perception of nobles, but at least Machias was, thankfully, open to slowly changing his mind as he watched him and Laura perform respectable behavior. He just needed a little extra push to overcome the doubts in his mind and fully trust a noble. The second problem was everyone’s perception of Fie. It was true that jaegers didn’t have a stellar reputation, but that didn’t mean Fie couldn’t be kind-hearted. If he could let the others realize that, then he was sure most of their doubts would go away.

Though… creating a situation where Fie showed that she was trustworthy and cared about their classmates would be difficult. Her greatest strength was her prowess in battle, but she couldn’t really show that off when Laura was here and could outmatch her. Rather than appearing protective of her classmates in battle, the others could see her as competitive.

Rean sighed, stepping out of his room with clean clothes on. The key here was actually simple. If they all made an effort to look beyond prejudice and understand each other, then cooperating with each other would be easier. Now, if only it could be that easy to put into action...

In the back of his mind, he thought it was a little funny how he would be placed in a role where he would have to make others accept nobles and jaegers, considering he had every reason to hate them too, for what they did so long ago...

---

When he finally arrived at the train station, he found the rest of Class VII standing there, idly chatting about school or what they expected from the field study. 

Gaius was the first to notice them. He walked over to Rean and patted his shoulder, releasing a tension in his muscles. “You good?”

“Yeah.” For now. Rean usually had enough patience to deal with everyone, excluding himself. He didn’t see how he could run out of patience for a group of his classmates. 

“Well, you’re already doing better than me,” Elliot joined in, chuckling nervously. His bright blue eyes looked hopeful as he stared back at Rean. “But I know if anyone can help them get along, it’s you!”

Rean had no clue where Instructor Sara, Elliot, and everyone else got this strange idea that he was even remotely capable of handling this mess better than anyone else. However, this was exactly one of the reasons why he was here in the first place. He had to be absolutely sure that this class was successful, and if half the class misunderstanding each other threatened the class’ success, then he would have to fix it.

Wearing a confident smile, he said, “I’ll do my best.”

“You do realize we’re right here and we can hear you.” Machias narrowed his eyes on them, unpleased.

“Maybe if you start acting like mature adults, we’ll act like you’re here and you can join the discussion,” Alisa countered, having long since lost the patience to deal with them. To be fair, spending two months of trying to get the four to get along and only ending up in failure would frustrate anyone. 

“No need,” Jusis said, sparing no one a glance. “First, Regnitz is as immature as a child, so it’s reasonable to continue to treat him as such. Second, there is no discussion to be had. We will never get along as long as he continues to live by his narrow-minded prejudice. End of conversation.”

Machias grabbed the noble’s collar in a burst of rage. “You’re the child here who’s acting like a spoiled brat, giving the cold shoulder to anyone he doesn’t like.”

“Oh?” Jusis calmly gazed at the other, making no move to defend himself. “And who is the one currently throwing a tantrum akin to an infant’s right now? Do you seriously believe that yelling and hitting things like a crazed monkey will solve all your problems?”

“Enough!” Rean stepped between them for the first time this day, and it surely wouldn’t be the last time. “Like I said on the first day of school, lashing out at one another isn’t going to solve anything!”

Now reminded of the events that happened during their special orientation, Rean wondered if the same was about to happen: Machias running away in a fit of frustration. His bespectacled classmate twitched and seemed like he wanted to erupt, but he ended up taking a deep breath to calm himself before he peacefully stepped back.

“Fine…”

“Hmph.”

The rest of class VII sighed while Rean turned his attention to the other disastrous pair. The two girls preferred using the silent treatment instead of constantly trying to argue with each other. This was actually worse, in his opinion, because it was often more difficult to tell what one person did to set the other off. Plus, it was harder to understand their problem with each other. While Machias and Jusis tended to avoid Fie because of her former occupation, Laura seemed to have a more personal problem with her.

At least Emma was trying to set them both straight. 

“I know you both have trouble acknowledging the other, but if you get into another unsupervised duel and someone gets hurt, I will have serious words for the both of you! And I’ll have you know, Grandmother is usually left crying after my lectures!” Emma seriously stared at the both of them like a stern mother trying to get both of her children to behave.

A drop of sweat rolled down the side of Elliot’s face, representing the disbelief he felt toward the situation. “Is Emma… threatening Laura and Fie?” 

“Yeah, but we’ll see how long those two are affected by it,” Alisa sighed, resting her hand on her hip before she looked at Rean. “This is obviously going to be a handful, so you better call us anytime you feel stressed! If Elliot can compose an entire sonata when he’s stressed, then I don’t even want to know what you’re capable of when you’re pushed to the limit.”

“My guess is that either a lake will lose its entire population of fish or a field will lose its entire population of monsters,” Gaius mused, a thoughtful expression on his face. 

Rean chuckled along with them before he heard a train arrive. “Okay, that’s enough joking around. Your train’s here.”

“Well then… Good luck Rean,” Emma grabbed their attention just as she joined the rest of her group. “I know you can do it!”

He watched everyone else hurriedly say their goodbyes and good-lucks to his group before they dashed off to the train. His eyes never left the train until it disappeared from his vision. 

Huh.

The void within him slightly grew from the added sense of loneliness, a sign that he had somehow gotten too attached to them over the course of the two months.  

He recognized this feeling. He… missed them already. 

That was a silly feeling. He was going to see them again in two days, it wasn’t like they were dying. Seriously, if this was his reaction to such a temporary farewell, he wondered how he would feel when he would have to permanently leave them one day. 

Permanently leave them...

He shook his head out of those thoughts. That wasn’t his main problem at the moment. Turning to face his group, he tried to think of a way they could cooperate together. They wouldn’t make any progress on this field study if everyone continued to act hostile toward one another. At the very least, they would have to make some sort of truce. And the only way they could make a truce was if they all had a common goal to work toward…

“Guys,” he spoke up, gaining his group’s attention. He was slightly uncomfortable with having to play such an assertive role in this group, considering he was used to other people pulling the strings. However, this group had no chance of functioning otherwise. “Are you all really okay with continuing to act this way?”

“I’d rather speak my mind than let the arrogant nobles have their way,” Machias muttered, though his tone was less energetic than usual.

“Arrogant..?” Laura repeated out loud, obviously offended, as she looked at the commoner with disapproval. “We are simply acting out our duties as students, just like you.”

Jusis crossed his arms, eyes showing that he was unimpressed, before scoffing, “Don’t mind him. While I am absolutely certain Regnitz holds unparalleled knowledge and opinions that must repeatedly be announced despite its redundancy, I don’t believe his ramblings should be taken seriously.”

“Why you—” Machias stomped closer to the noble, scowling. “This is exactly what I’m talking about you nobles! You just don’t listen—”

“Enough!” Rean frustratingly grit his teeth at the rising tension between the three before he stepped between the three of them. He looked at Fie. “What about you?”

Fie casually shrugged in indifference. 

He sighed. 

“Are you all sure? Do you really want to compromise your grades again?” Three of them flinched because they did care about their success in school. “I heard you received an E on your previous field study. You also received failing marks on the practical exam a few days ago. Let me ask again: Can you really continue like this?”

Jusis, Machias, and Laura wore various expressions of disappointment in themselves. After all, they were high-achievers. They simply couldn’t afford to let themselves keep failing.

On the other hand, Fie yawned, “I don’t really care.”

This earned her a couple of glares, namely from Laura and Machias. It made sense, considering they were both extremely hard workers. As students of a prestigious academy, they were offended by someone who didn’t appreciate the work they put into this school. It also didn’t help that Fie didn’t get into this school by merit; Sara had to draw some strings to put the former jaeger here. 

Luckily, the problem of Fie’s lacking motivation could be fixed thanks to some questionable advice from their instructor. 

“Fie.” He gave her a stern look. “Instructor Sara informed me to tell you that if you don’t try your best on this field study, she’s going to take care of your flowers during the field study.” It was true, and the fact that the woman would resort to such methods with her students made Rean question, once again, how she was qualified to be an instructor here.

“Ugh, she’s gonna kill them all with that black thumb of hers,” Fie frustratingly sighed, leaning her back against the wall with a resigned expression. “Fine then. I guess I care.”

He couldn’t believe that actually worked. 

Turning to the other three, he asked, “What about you guys?”

Judging by the contemplative looks in their eyes, he could tell that they were extremely hesitant. They were deciding whether or not their grades were worth putting aside their pride and grudges. 

But, after a long silence, he received three brief nods. 

---

Rean shouldn’t have been surprised, honestly.

After a somewhat eventful and awkward train ride, the group finally arrived at Bareahard where none other than Rufus Albarea appeared to welcome them. It only made sense, considering he was on Thors’ board of directors and that this was his home. 

Still, he couldn’t stop himself from stiffening up momentarily. It wasn’t like he had any real problems with Rufus, it was just the older man had an aura of unpredictability when looking past his facade of perfection. Despite how they were both Ironbloods, he never knew what the man was thinking, resulting in him always keeping his guard up around the other. 

They were shepherded into a fancy limo where they listened to Rufus talk about their field study and about Jusis like a doting older brother. During the whole ride, Rean was struggling to maintain his composure. He probably would have been successful if the older Ironblood didn’t decide to drag him into the conversation.

“I would have never expected my younger brother to be classmates with you, Rean.” Amusement danced across Rufus’ eyes as he watched the chaos unfold from his classmates realizing the implications of this statement. 

“You know each other?” Jusis looked at Rean, raising his eyebrow in confusion. Clearly, Rufus had never told him about it. 

“Rufus is an acquaintance of my father,” he answered a little too hastily. 

“Hmm… I suppose I did notice how Rufus has been visiting Ymir more often in the past year.”

Machias narrowed his eyes at Rean, suspicious. “And yet you’re on a first name basis with a son of one of the four great houses. Are you sure you’re not friends or something?”

Friends? No. Though, having watched the way he embarrassed Jusis, Rufus seemed to enjoy teasing him as if he was another younger brother; however, Rean didn’t feel as comfortable with his teasing as he did with Lechter’s. The difference was that Lechter was loyal to his dad, whereas Rufus was first loyal to himself. The man was too unreadable, too unpredictable, leaving Rean more stressed after every encounter. 

Definitely not a friend.

“We’ve had tea together sometimes.” He let them interpret that however they wanted to.

The truth was, ever since Rean debuted as the Ashen Saint last year, Rufus apparently had the suspicion that he was the Ashen Saint. Considering how ‘Rean Schwarzer’ had nothing significant in his records, it seemed ridiculous how anyone would theorize that this seemingly random boy was the Ashen Saint. However, Rufus had the pleasure of meeting him by accident when he was still ‘Rean Osborne’, back when his dad officially declared the noble to be the first Ironblood. 

He wouldn’t be surprised if Rufus had caught a glimpse of him when he was using Ishmelga’s power. It would only make sense why the man wasn’t so doubtful of Rean’s and the Ashen Saint’s differences in appearances. Rufus’ frequent visits to Ymir last year were probably to confirm his suspicions until, one day, he had walked up to Rean and whispered with a knowing smirk, “I know who you are.”

Yeah, Rean had almost jumped out of his skin that day. Being aware that a complete stranger, at the time, knew his secret was frightening, and he feared what Rufus would do with the knowledge. Thankfully, the man was currently being faithful to his dad; he wouldn’t expose Rean’s secrets if it opposed Osborne’s will.

At least… that was what Rean hoped. 

 

---

---

 

For what seemed like the millionth time since school started, Fie thought Sara was absolutely insane. Enrolling an ex-jaeger into a Military academy? Seriously? Jaegers usually weren’t chock full of good ideas but Sara easily took the cake when it came to her unreasonable plans. 

It’s an opportunity to live a normal life , she once said. It wasn’t a convincing argument because Fie didn’t care about what kind of life she led. All she wanted was Boss and the rest of her jaeger family.

You’ll make good friends , was another of Sara’s unappealing incentives. Fie couldn’t not roll her eyes. What friends? There was already a two-year age difference between her and most of her current peers. That simple trait would have made her an outlier even if she wasn’t a jaeger and nearly everyone else was a commoner or a noble. But she was, and so the complications of making friends had the added bonus of their livelihoods being too different for anyone on either side to understand the other. 

Not to mention, Fie had trust issues. She was an orphan of the battlefield, she was never even able to learn how to trust her own parents. Everyone was her enemy, the only person she could trust was herself. At least, until she met the members of Zephyr. 

Still, that didn’t mean she would give her trust out like candy. Just because these were all teenagers didn’t mean they couldn’t be dangerous. For example, Bloody Shirley was insane as a child and still was now as a teenager. The chances were low, but somewhere out there in this sea of students could be someone who wanted to slaughter everyone and ruin the country or something. 

It was only a miracle that she found others who didn’t care about her status as a jaeger, or else she would be a complete loner. One example was Emma, who was apparently a witch who lived in an area that had secluded themselves from the rest of humanity. Gaius was another because he was a foreigner and didn't follow the same stereotypical views placed on jaegers. Because of this, they didn’t struggle to treat her like anyone else and probably even viewed her as a friend. 

And yeah, sometimes Fie lay her head on Emma’s lap while the witch read stories out loud after tutoring sessions. Sometimes she took a nap near Gaius whenever he painted. Those were times she thought that maybe Sara wasn’t completely crazy about that second point. She found that she could trust the peace they brought. She’d only been able to relax around family, so the fact that she was comfortable around these new people must’ve meant that she somewhat saw them as friends.

What had surprised her more was how Rean showed kindness to her. He helped her with her studies whenever she complained and sometimes kept an unnecessary eye out for her whenever she slept in the open. Honestly, she initially thought he had ulterior motives because, surely, no one could be this nice without getting anything in return. But then, when Rean had given her a piggy-back ride because she was too lazy to move, she decided that he was just an overly helpful friend and used that moment to fall asleep on his back.

Surprisingly, Elliot became more friendly with her despite his obvious annoyance toward every member of their first field study group. After he vented to her by playing a supposedly angry music piece about their disastrous team (and she accidentally slept because the music was surprisingly peaceful), they both became quick buddies in complaining about their heavy school workload. 

Alisa also started to warm up to her, sometimes asking for some help with target practice. Considering her sign of friendship was choosing to sleep near that ‘friend’, Fie figured they'd be officially friends whenever she felt comfortable enough to completely doze off next to the girl.

Considering how Fie had gained a few friends when she originally expected to have none, she wasn't really bothered with how the rest of Class VII avoided her. She didn’t care about people who didn’t care about her. The only things that frustrated her about this were Machias’ refusal to her request to have a gun duel (a fun jaeger activity) and the knowledge that she and Laura were potentially a good team if they could just acknowledge each other. 

But they couldn’t. And while she wanted to pin Laura with all the blame because of the knight’s inability to accept Fie’s jaeger-like way of going about life, she had to admit feeling uncomfortable fighting alongside an individual who put her entire heart into her craft. Laura fought for her sense of honor and pride, and Fie couldn't understand because she only fought for her own survival.

When would her honor allow her to attack? When would her pride allow her to flee? If someone was hurt, would she keep attacking the enemy or move to defend the ally? This noble mindset was too complicated for Fie, whose mindset was simple: fight or flee for survival. Laura’s goals and movements were too unfamiliar. Too unpredictable. Fie couldn’t trust what she didn’t know, so she couldn’t trust her. 

It was similar with Machias and Jusis, who fought to prove something or fought with honesty; she didn’t understand their priorities, so she inevitably had somewhat fragile links with them too. The only reason for her stable link to Elliot was because she could understand that he fought to not get hurt. The fact that he didn’t repel her was a good bonus to their link strength.

Fie had to wonder why Sara continued to entertain the thought of her and those three becoming friends when absolutely no progress had been made over the past two months. Though, when the second field study groups were revealed, Fie was not as interested in how the four ‘problem children’ were stuck in a group together again as she was curious about why Sara switched Elliot with Rean. She wondered if it was a mere coincidence or if there was a strategy to this arrangement. 

The moment he got the four of them to form a temporary truce made her realize that she had underestimated the guy. A lot. 

She thought Rean was just a really nice guy with decent sword skills. Turned out the guy’d been observing them all, knowing what buttons to push but never did unless necessary. Making the three prioritize school over their own prides was a good move. Then, on the train ride, he strengthened their incentive to work together by speaking to their competitive spirits, framing this field study as a competition against group B. It worked wonders on Machias, who wanted to surpass Emma in terms of how well they did in school, and was thus more convinced to cooperate despite his usual stubbornness. 

There were still arguments though, especially about the room arrangements. Splitting their rooms up by gender was only natural, but the boys had problems with each other and the girls had problems with each other. The night would certainly be interesting if both groups were left unchecked, so Rean made the final decision and said they would all share one room.

Yeah… She had no doubts that no one would be sleeping tonight. 

Also, Sara must’ve been drunk while proof-reading these teams because no one on this team was very effective at using healing arts. Jusis and Machias argued who it should be between them because Jusis had the highest arts strength while Machias had the lowest physical strength; either would be a better candidate for healing than the others. The problem was that one didn’t trust the other to heal them properly. Luckily, Rean settled the matter, unwillingly taking the decision-making role of a leader, and chose Machias. 

Then, their de facto leader also took advantage of everyone’s trust in him, deliberately linking up with Fie most of the time to show the others that he trusted her. His thinking was probably along the lines of if they trusted him, and he trusted her, then they could trust her. Fie was actually surprised that she didn’t mind linking up with him that much. His priority on the battlefield was to protect others - make sure others survive - and this was something Fie wasn’t unfamiliar with; it was part of living in a jaeger group that cared about each other. Knowing that, his movements were much easier to read and much easier to trust. 

There were already less arguments, less ‘friendly’ fires, and they already cleared one request for their field study; they made so much more progress in cooperating with each other today than they had in two months. She didn’t think he would make a good leader since he seemed like such a pushover, but now she couldn’t help but respect this surprising side of him. He was good at uniting people.

Unfortunately, linking up with Laura was still impossible. Fie actually felt bad about her own stubbornness because it was becoming quickly apparent that Rean was exhausted from having to constantly manage this group. It probably wouldn’t have been so bad if it was just two people misbehaving in the group, but all of them were, so he had to pull the entire group’s weight. He always had to settle disputes and stay on the frontlines, ready to switch at any time he sensed a pair’s link growing unstable. 

Honestly, for a group of people who respected him, they were treating him very unfairly. She was actually feeling concerned, seeing him work haggardly just for their sake. 

She decided that she didn’t like seeing him like that. She would be an awful friend if she just let him carry such a huge burden by himself. Unfortunately, she didn’t know how to lessen his burden. The obvious way would be to just trust the others, but she didn’t know how to trust unpredictability . She figured that the only solution would be to understand . 

She clicked her tongue, conflicted. She really didn't want to bother with trying to rely on people who didn't care about her, but she didn't want to be the reason why Rean drove himself into the ground.

She made her first move when they were taking a break from exploring the highway. She moved toward Machias and took a seat next to him, starting a normal conversation. 

“Hey, why don’t you like me?” 

She could see the teen look like he almost jumped out of his skin. He faced her, looking very uncomfortable and uneasy. He seemed to be debating whether or not to tell the truth. However, upon seeing Rean start to doze off under a nearby tree, he decided to talk. 

“...Let’s say, hypothetically, Albarea paid you to kill me...” Well, the conversation wasn’t exactly normal, but it was somehow a significant improvement from their usual conversations which mostly consisted of him scolding her for her laziness. “Would you do it?”

Fie normally didn’t laugh ever since she started school, but she couldn’t help a bubble of laughter from escaping her throat. “Huh? What a stupid hypothesis.” One of her eyebrows quirked up in earnest amusement. “I thought you were supposed to be smart.”

Machias immediately became flustered, tripping over his words as he tried and failed to find a rebuttal. Eventually, he sighed in defeat. “Just answer the question.”

“No, duh. I’m a former jaeger, remember? I wouldn’t do that unless I needed the money to survive.” She yawned, stretching out her muscles. “And I don’t think a time like that is going to happen anytime soon because I’m currently living off Sara's wallet.”

“I see…” Machias turned away, hiding his expression. “Sorry for… uh… not trusting you.”

“S’fine. I don’t completely trust you yet either. Plus, if I was still a jaeger, then I would’ve had a different answer anyway,” she bluntly said, taking note of the brief tensing in Machias’ shoulders. Out of the corner of her eyes, she saw signs that Laura and Jusis were going to spar. An idea formed in her head. “But I’ll call us even if you accept that gun duel.”

She earned a gaping expression from the boy, who was absolutely baffled at how she could just change the topic like that. “Seriously? A gun duel? Don’t you know how dangerous that would be!?”

Fie smirked. “Yes I’m serious. And I have rubber bullets.”

“That would hurt like hell!” Machias protested, facing contorting at the absurdness of her request. “They can also kill!”

Regardless, Fie still reached her hand out and grabbed his arm, pulling him up. “Oh pish posh , the point is to dodge the bullets. It’s a test for speed and evasiveness.”

“Do I look like an agile person to you!?” She dragged him to the part of the area opposite of where Laura and Jusis were. “Fie, I’m going to die! FIE!”

She saw Rean walk up to them with a curious and amused look in his eyes. He seemed relieved to see them casually talking together. “What are you two up to?”

“Rean, you have to help me!” Machias pleaded helplessly. “She’s going to kill me!”

His lilac eyes blinked owlishly, not taking those words too literally. Instead, he looked at Fie inquisitively.

“Gun duel,” she explained with a shrug.

Rean mulled over those two words, probably wondering if the name of the activity was entirely self-explanatory because he believed that she wouldn’t actually suggest playing such a lethal game. After a long pause, he asked, “Is it safe?”

“Yup.”

“NO, IT’S NOT!”

The black-haired teen crossed his arms, contemplative. Surprising both of them, he said, “I’m sure Fie knows what she’s doing.” He looked at her, observing her confidence and playfulness. “I trust her to not kill you.”

“Exactly.”

“GUYS—!”

…

Machias’ skin was completely unblemished after that gun duel, though he seemed to act like he lost ten years of his life in the process. Jusis didn’t miss the opportunity to mock how Machias had embarrassingly lost all his composure during the duel, causing the latter to explode with contempt. The usual stuff. Regardless, she felt much more comfortable around the stubborn, bespectacled teen, and she could tell Machias was fine with her too.

All this time, she let others befriend her, but now she was taking the reins at making a friend. Even though Machias was always scowling at her, saying he would never forgive her, the feeling of slowly befriending him felt surprisingly nice. 

She could see why Rean made an effort to stay on good terms with Machias. She didn’t really care about the prejudice since it made no sense to her, but she found him to be a really fun person to annoy and tease. His irritated, confused outbursts were actually pretty endearing (when unrelated to the topic of social status). 

She still didn’t quite understand him, but she could find herself trusting him to have part of her back, at the very least. Perhaps if it was this simple to add a tiny amount of trust to others, then maybe she wouldn’t have so much trouble linking with Laura after all. 

She looked around to see the swordswoman talking to Rean. Catching her gaze, Fie stared at her, trying to communicate a resoluteness to work together with just her gaze. 

Laura responded with a similar look in her eyes. They may not get along, but Fie could understand the silent gesture.

She was ready to work together. 

Maybe it was because she could sense a little less tension within the group, Fie felt confident about successfully linking up with the knight. 

Boy, was she wrong. 

 

---

---

 

Being in charge of decision-making for a group made him feel uncomfortable because that meant he could easily lead everyone to their doom with his awful choices. However, he found himself in a bizarre situation where he , of all people, was the only one trusted and respected by everyone in this group. The only way to not be impeded by frequent arguments was for him to take the lead because they were all apparently fine with his final decision. 

He really cursed his luck sometimes. Especially when he had to make a certain decision for the battle against the quest monster. 

“I don’t want to hold our group back anymore,” Laura spoke up suddenly while they were making preparations for the upcoming fight. “Put me in the front lines with Fie, I’ll make sure to not sever our link this time.”

Fie nodded silently, determination sparking in her eyes. 

This… was a surprise, but not unwelcome. He thought they would have to go through the entire day without much progress, but it seemed like those two were finally willing to link up for once. 

However, it seemed like the boys were also inspired by this decision since Machias asked, “Rean, can you put me and Albarea on the front lines too?”

“I admit, our performance could have been much better today and the last field study, so it’s only fair to amend that problem as quickly as possible,” Jusis added. “Plus, it’s about time for you to take a break from the front lines.”

Under normal circumstances, Rean would have been happy to hear his classmates’ desire to attempt to successfully link with each other. However, there were too many risks involved with their wish. First, Rean was still somewhat traumatized with his encounter with the quest monster back at Celdic; he knew very well how quickly a situation with a monster like this could turn dire. Second, everyone on the front lines would have significantly unstable bonds. If both (or even one) broke, then no one’s safety could be guaranteed. 

On the other hand, all the other monsters on this highway were unable to last long enough for them to truly test the limits of their shaky combat links (especially when faced with the destructive combination of Laura and Fie). Plus, all his classmates looked more ready and determined to work together than they ever did before, and he wasn’t sure if they would feel the same if they waited until later. 

His head told him to refuse and keep them safe. His gut told him to believe in his classmates.

He ended up listening to his gut and he had to wonder why he did, considering his gut usually had a knack for leading him to trouble.

Mustering up a relieved smile, he said, “I trust you guys.”

His eyes took in every movement in the battle, worried about a single move that could cause a disconnect between either pair. Honestly, it was a little difficult to do so. He didn’t have the best night’s sleep and dealing with such a chaotic group drained him more than he would have liked. 

Already five minutes into battle with the monster near death, his exhaustion was probably the reason why hearing screams akin to glass shattering almost gave him a heart attack. 

Jusis and Machias stiffened and stared at each other with disbelief and frustration. Their mouths were open as veins popped on their foreheads, ready to yell at each other for their incompetence. Rean didn’t hear what they said because their words were deafened by another screeching noise of an ARCUS link severing. 

He looked to see Laura and Fie momentarily stiffen, processing that they accidentally broke their link. In their short paralysis, the monster took this opportunity to swipe it’s crab-like arm toward Fie. Due to her sharp and swift reflexes, the former jaeger managed to block the attack with her weapons but she couldn’t stop the force of the attack from launching her backwards, her body only stopping when her back collided with the base of a tree. 

“Machias!” Rean yelled, hoping the other would understand the order to check up on Fie with just a single word. Upon hearing Laura’s and Jusis’ blade clash with the shell of the monster, Rean hurriedly joined the front-lines. 

Despite how their combat links were shattered and could no longer re-link, Jusis and Laura were still able to work well together, familiar with each other’s moves from frequently sparring with each other.  With more stable teamwork in their group, the monster no longer stood any chance. In just three minutes, they ended the battle without any more injuries. 

Rean snapped out of his temporary relief at the sight of his two male classmates stomping toward each other, wearing piercing glares that were sharp enough to kill. 

“What the hell was that, Jusis Albarea?” Machias hissed angrily as he roughly grabbed the blonde by the collar. “Why did you sever the link?”

“Don’t even bother pinning the blame on me. You know you’re the one responsible for severing the link,” Jusis icy voice growled back, retaliating by grabbing the other’s collar. 

Stop.

Machias laughed though there was no hint of any humor. “Yeah right, you know it’s because you just can’t stand to lower yourself to the same level as a commoner like me!”

Stop— 

"Need I remind you how I was perfectly capable of linking up with Elliot, a commoner like you, on our first field study?" The noble countered, fingers curling up tighter around the article of clothing. “Can’t you see that all this is born from your own prejudice and narrow-mindedness!?”

Rean finally regained the energy to step between them, tearing them away from each other with his hands. “That’s enough!”

“Stay out of this, Rean! This is a problem between me and him only!” Machias pushed himself away from the two, yet his eyes were still locked on the blonde noble. 

“Fine by me, let’s settle this once and for all,” Jusis snapped, issuing a challenge. “Let me show you how much better than you I really am.”

For once, the two rivals agreed to something, but it wasn’t something Rean could support.

And yet... he stood uselessly still as he watched the two walk away toward whatever destination they chose to duel in. He almost laughed self-deprecatingly to himself, knowing that even if he stopped them now, they would find a way to continue later. Nothing he could do would help them out in the long run. Briefly, he wondered if a duel was just what the two needed to understand each other, but he didn’t really see how it could be any different from their previous fights. Plus, if Fie could give Laura a concussion from an unsupervised duel, then he didn’t even want to imagine what pain Machias and Jusis would inflict on each other. 

This was awful. He needed to stop them. 

Struggling to compose himself, he turned to face Laura and Fie, but he noticed that the latter was missing. Sucking in a painfully deep breath, his eyes scrutinized his surroundings until he eventually saw a blur of silver move in the far distance. 

He needed to stop her. But he was torn between chasing her or after the duo. 

“Laura—” Upon glancing at his remaining classmate's humiliated expression, he knew he wasn’t going to like what she was going to say.

“I’m sorry, Rean. I just cannot bring myself to find it in my heart to accept her,” she grimaced, head lowered so she couldn’t see him. “I need to take a walk by myself and reflect on my own behavior.”

He tried to say something to convince her to help him get the group together, but his voice didn't seem to work. Plus, what right did he have to ask her to stay and help him?

She walked away shamefully, never looking back, never seeing Rean reach a hand out to her with a pained look in his eyes. 

Upon seeing blue disappear into the green of the surrounding trees, Rean let himself collapse to his knees, losing all his strength.

This was too much. This was an utter disaster.

This was such a bad idea. This was why he didn’t like making decisions, especially decisions that involved others’ well being. Or maybe it was his fault for not paying enough attention during the battle. Ugh, he just made everything much worse. He failed his mission. He failed Instructor Sara and the rest of Class VII’s expectations. Everyone was going to be utterly disappointed in him. He was such a failure. He was always— 

“I know you can do it!”

Remembering Emma’s words earlier that day, he shook his head and violently grit his teeth. He couldn’t do it. He couldn’t do anything. 

At the same time, he knew that the only thing he could do was do it . The only options were to help his classmates get along or wallow in his mental misery. He could only go forward or nowhere…

He couldn’t afford to stop. 

Heaving a sigh and pushing his legs to stand back up, he tried to banish his negative thoughts to the back of his mind. Things looked awful, but that didn’t mean the end of the world. This was no time to give up. This was only the first day, he could still fix this mess. Plus, if this was the worst that could happen, then things could only get better from now— 

"Bravo!"

The sudden sound of a man's voice and subsequent clapping drew his attention. Suddenly his senses finally alerted him, directing him toward the presence behind a lone tree. He tensed, watching as a familiar figure stepped out from behind it.

What now?

“Oh, what a beautiful display of conflict that was!” the masked, blue-haired man madly grinned, continuing to applaud to express his enjoyment. "To be alive is truly a wonderful thing, being able to bear witness to such a comedy of errors and now to watch you struggle to maintain unity in your troubled mind and your troubled group! Ah… I anticipate that your efforts will be… breathtaking.”

Rean furrowed his eyebrows, sifting through his memories to try to remember where he had seen this man before. Really, it shouldn’t have been so hard to recognize someone with a ridiculously extravagant outfit and exaggerated way of speaking… But then he remembered a certain period of time when he hadn’t been able to process much.

 

“Aha~ So you’re the little treasure that Lady Arianrhod has been hiding.” 

“...”

 

“Bleublanc..?” His heart started to race with uncertainty. He barely remembered interacting with the thief before he became a full-fledged Enforcer of Ouroboros. Seeking beauty, the man apparently became fixated on Lianne, leading him to also find out about Rean’s existence under her care. 

“Oh, so the boy truly does remember me, though I suppose it would be difficult to forget an illustrious personality such as mine!” The Enforcer casually took a step closer, causing Rean to automatically unsheathe his tachi, defensively pointing it toward the other. “Plus, I would imagine that you would be the type of guy to remember every person he tried to stab!”

His arms stiffened, panicking at that implication. He had to admit many of his memories of that year were still too hazy, heavily oppressed by Ishmelga’s influence and his own deteriorating mind at that time. However, he remembered how insufferable he’d been acting back then. 

“No need to fret! Your little ‘greeting’ back then was warranted, considering I was not supposed to meet you. Also, it was nothing compared to Renne and Joshua’s first reactions to me, oho!” Bleublanc added, as if to assuage Rean’s concerns. 

Unfortunately, this statement did the opposite, now confirming that he’d probably been hurting a lot more people during that year than he realized, and he didn’t even remember it. The realization made him sick.

How many 'innocent' people did he hurt..?

“Ah, am I making you uncomfortable? I must apologize for that.” A barely discernible hint of concern was surprisingly laced in the Enforcer’s voice as he watched Rean try to steady his breathing. “It would be ungentlemanly of me to undo Lady Arianrhod’s efforts, after all.”

“What do you want?” The swordsman shooking his head, deciding to finally get to the point. He didn't have time to think about the past, he needed to go to his classmates. 

Bleublanc smirked, taking a few steps closer despite the threatening sword that was pointed at him. “While I admit that I would enjoy seeing where your current endeavor would bring you, a spark of inspiration has struck me and refuses to leave unless I put my newly crafted heist into action. I am intrigued to see how your dearly beloved friends will react to the game I shall present them with.”

Rean narrowed his eyes as he shifted his stance, ready to attack rather than defend. “Don’t you dare lay a hand on my classmates.”

“Ah, what a fierce display of protectiveness over a found family, much like Lady Arianrhod when Weiss—Oh, I suppose the details don’t matter.” Bleublanc remained unfazed by his threat. “In any case, I merely wish to test your bonds, however fickle they are. And what could be more enjoyable than to steal their dear leader away from them and see how they react?”

Rean had no time to debate his role in the group, instead choosing to calmly ask, "Are you planning on kidnapping me?"

"I insist you use the words 'steal you away', because I am an extraordinary thief, not a mere kidnapper."

He flipped his ARCUS open, ready to call Instructor Sara. 

"No need to be so defensive~” The blunt edge of a knife swooped toward him and knocked the ARCUS out of his hands. Their eyes locked, clashing amused or upset glares. “If you have been following my exploits, I harmlessly return all that I steal… that is, if the participants can win my game."

Rean frowned, taking a glance to see where his ARCUS landed. He hadn’t been able to dial anyone’s number, but he could see it vibrating. "You're not really giving me any incentive to play along with your game."

"I'm afraid you have no choice in the matter, for I only follow the pursuit of beauty. And this class, created by my eternal rival, could potentially be a hidden gem!” Bleublanc leaned forward until his chest was touching the tip of the sword. "I shall not change my mind."

For a reason Rean knew too well, the sight of the point of his sword digging into the fabric of Bleublanc's shirt seemed a little too tempting 

A manic gleam glowed from the masked eyes as Bleublanc blithely taunted, “Unless… you think you can defeat me?"

Notes:

Did you guys hear!? Zero, Azure, and Reverie (Hajimari) are all announced to get Western localizations!!! Woo! Such happy times to be a trails fan.

Actual Author's Notes:

The language of a noble is truly an art that is beyond me. It really doesn't help that there are nobles everywhere in this chapter. I must admit, it was pretty fun to learn some of their common phrases: "I beg your pardon," "In due course," "If I may ask," "You dare question," and so on, haha.

There will be a time where I don't add onto Rean's already tragic backstory, but it ain't happening soon. XD

Curse Bleublanc! I wanted to finish day 1 of Bareahard in one chapter, but he just... intervened. I also apologize for the cliffhanger, I'd normally like to reserve them for the 'truly awful' cliffhangers but then this chapter would be toooo long.

Thanks for taking the time to read, take care and I'd appreciate a comment :3

Chapter 9: "I Can't Say..."

How humiliating. He and Regnitz were about to settle their differences once and for all, but then a limo had stopped by them. The window rolled down to reveal his father, looking none too pleased to see him.

Jusis wanted to believe that his father would choose this moment to acknowledge him as his son or show some kind of authentic father-son relationship between them. At the very least, he wanted his father to show him anything but that disapproving frown in front of Regnitz.

“Please be mindful of the name you represent.”

Then the window rolled up and the car drove away. 

And that was it. 

He no longer had any energy to deal with whatever feud he had with Regnitz. He just wanted to go to the hotel, write a report about their deplorable field study, then sleep. Ignoring the confused and contemplative look on the commoner, Jusis walked toward his home city.

They walked all the way to the hotel in uncomfortable silence, a contrast to how they were usually shouting at each other whenever they were by themselves. The sun was setting and the cloudy sky was painted a calm orange once they reached the entrance. Before they could reach a hand to reach the handle, however, the door suddenly slammed open and a silver blur hit Regnitz right in the chest. Seeing the common fall on his rear, Jusis looked back to see that Claussell had hit him, looking a little guilty.

“Oops,” she said, reaching a hand out to pull their classmate up to his feet. She then pulled something out of her pocket, holding it out so that both of them could look at it. “Well, since you’re here, you might as well look at this.”

To my dear friends in Class VII. I’ve taken the liberty of preparing an enjoyable diversion to spice up your mundane day-to-day lives a little. I shall continue to watch your radiance from afar, and yet from close by as well. That radiance is no doubt the fruit of the bonds you share with one another. Bonds, which, today, I wish to test. 

I wish to see how you act when the seeds of distrust and discord are sown among you and I shall be watching close by. To witness such a priceless occasion, I will be stealing from you one of your beloved classmates. I hope you’ll enjoy these little experiments. I know I certainly will. 

𝓑

“Is this supposed to be some sort of prank?” Jusis flatly looked at the piece of paper. The words written on it sounded too arrogant and unnecessarily complex for him to take the meaning seriously. 

To his surprise, both Regnitz and Claussell wore serious expressions.

“I’m usually alert whenever I can sense an unfamiliar or untrustworthy presence nearby, even when I’m sleeping,” Claussell admitted with a frown. “The fact that this person was able to slip a note in our room and steal my weapons without me noticing is a sign that we’re dealing with someone who has serious skills.”

“Wait, your weapons are missing!?” Regnitz exclaimed Jusis’ exact thoughts. To be able to disarm a former jaeger as attentive as Claussell could not be the work of a mere prankster here. 

Claussell nodded, looking a little ashamed that her senses failed her. "Took them and replaced them with a note while I was napping."

Delicately grabbing the card and inspecting it with a close eye, Jusis muttered, "Is this fancy, red ‘B’ supposed to be a signature of some sort? It looks familiar..."

"It's the mark of Phantom Thief B," Regnitz calmly replied to him for the first time since they met. His rival used his index finger to push the bridge of his glasses up on his face, indicating that he was ready to explain (and Jusis hated how he was observant of the smallest, insignificant details of the person he disliked the most in his class). "He randomly steals things as small as a sign and things as significant as a giant statue from a museum without anyone knowing. Rumors say he even stole the moon, not once, but twice."

"I'm not going to entertain any silly rumors, but I suppose he does have quite the reputation for thievery... However, this is just ridiculous." He flatly looked at the writing, utterly unimpressed. "He became intrigued by our so-called 'bonds' and yet we barely have any. He's wasting his time," Jusis huffed, annoyed that a man and a piece of paper would dare to annoy them on their already horrific day. "I suppose this means that he kidnapped either Rean or Laura?"

Claussell shrugged nonchalantly. "Probably, since the three of us are here. Guess we’ll just have to wait and see who arrives and who doesn’t." Her gaze landed on Regnitz, boring into his soul, startling him out of his thoughts. “Machias.”

“Y-Yes?” He immediately broke out in a cold sweat, clearly not looking comfortable with her stare. 

“I left my hotel key in the men’s bathroom. Could you get it for me?”

“Wh- What in Aidios’ name were you doing in there!?” For once, he and Regnitz shared the same dumbfoundedness at the girl’s actions. 

Claussell didn’t look shameful at all, she merely rolled her shoulders to release the tension in her muscles. “It was closer than the women’s. If you won’t, I’ll just go back in and get it.”

It seemed like societal norms were no match for this ex-jaeger’s laziness. Regnitz sputtered something about how it was ‘not good’ for a lady to enter the men’s bathroom before he dashed into the hotel, presumably to find the item she left there. 

Wasting no time, Claussell turned to look at Jusis, speaking out her true intentions. 

“Why don’t you like me?” she asked bluntly. Despite her words, she sounded more curious rather than hurt.

Jusis raised his eyebrow in confusion, not understanding why she brought the topic up nor why it was important enough to send Regnitz on a wild goose chase, seeing that the hotel key was loosely wrapped in her hand. “You’re rather direct, aren’t you? May I ask why you wish to know my answer?”

“I figured we’d be able to work better together if we knew each other a little more, that’s all.”

That was a little surprising, considering how Claussell had shown indifference to everyone up until now. 

(Though perhaps that nonchalance was merely a facade, like how he often acted with extreme haughtiness just to keep up with his noble appearance.) 

Truthfully, if she did not care about their team, then she would have probably ignored the note from the Phantom Thief… unless her entire motivation was to get her weapons back.

Extending an olive branch to her, he answered with honesty. “There’s no good reason why, other than that I am simply too immature.” Upon seeing the confusion and dissatisfaction swirl in her eyes, he added, “I recently learned that a large sum of funds from the Albarea household suddenly disappeared around the same time a large jaeger attack was launched on Chancellor Gilliath Osborne a long time ago. It's easy to figure out where they went… No doubt, my father was behind such a deplorable incident.” Because there was no way Rufus would do such a thing . “I desire to be a noble who cares for his people, so I’ve decided to keep my distance from jaegers, resulting in our rather strained relationship.”

Claussell crossed her arms while she shifted her weight between each of  her legs. “But I’m not a jaeger anymore.”

“Yes, I know. Rean already made it clear to me a while ago,” he sighed. “Like I said, I’m immature. But I’m working on improving myself, at the very least.” He watched the girl nod her head before he repeated her initial question back to her. “It’s abundantly clear that you don’t like me either, why is that?” 

“Wow, and you say I don't beat around the bush. You’re worse because you sound so fancy with your bluntness. I wouldn’t mind taking lessons.” A smile tugged at the edge of her mouth. “I have trust issues ‘cause my parents abandoned me when I was young and I grew up in a world full of danger. I don’t really like many people.”

“I see…” Orphan. Trust issues. Lazy. Slept everywhere. It was difficult to see how this girl used to be a jaeger sometimes. And that was probably the point of her behavior because she was clearly no longer a jaeger. 

He sighed at himself for having such a stubborn mindset. Honestly, he needed to stop being so close-minded about his views if he wanted to become a noble he was proud of. 

“Though, I know a way for me to warm up to you.” Claussell’s expression betrayed nothing of her intentions; she stared at him with that same nonchalant face, only a hint of amusement flickered in those eyes.

Suspicious, he asked, “Why the sudden interest in making friends? I saw you try to befriend Regnitz earlier too.”

“Like I said: ‘Just don’t wanna hold back the team more than I already am,” she shrugged before a smirk broke out on her features. “So how about it?”

He sighed in resignation. He didn’t want to hold the group back either, and if it meant befriending this whimsical ex-jaeger, then so be it. 

---

Jusis would never disclose whatever happened between the two of them, but to say that Fie Claussell had gained the ability to give Patrick T. Hyarms a brain aneurysm with flowery trash talk befitting of a savage, noble woman would be quite an understatement.

After their ‘lesson’, it took what Jusis thought to be an absurdly long amount of time for Regnitz to return from checking a room as small and clear as the bathrooms. Disappointment was hanging over his shoulders, only to inflate with the frustration of having wasted so much time when Fie told him that she realized that the keys were in her pocket the entire time. 

And not long after that, their fourth team member joined them.

“What happened to you, Rean? And why haven’t you taken care of yourself?” Jusis was already walking forward and activating his ARCUS to cast a tear , processing Rean’s appearance. 

Raven hair was sticking out in all directions, slightly matted in blood. Uniform was torn, and they could see scratches on the skin that was peeking out from behind the clothes. And yet, there the teen stood, relief flooding his lilac eyes, as he smiled at them like everything was okay. 

His behavior juxtaposed with his appearance, just like how his personality contrasted with his status. Jusis huffed, unimpressed. Truly, this was the personification of an anomaly. 

Rean chuckled, scratching his cheek with his index finger. “I let my guard down and accidentally got ambushed by a group of monsters. I lost my ARCUS during that fight as well...” 

“ You got ambushed?” Fie bewilderingly repeated, not buying his story. “Don’t you have incredibly sharp senses?”

“Ah…” He shifted his eyes away from them while that polite smile became sheepish. “I was distracted by my thoughts…”

No one asked him any more questions, knowing that he was probably thinking about them after they separated. 

“I take it this means that the Phantom Thief kidnapped Laura,” Regnitz piped up, breaking their momentary silence, while they showed Rean the white card.

“You have to be kidding me,” Rean muttered, finally replacing his smile with an annoyed frown. “He has her?”

“Has who?” A voice spoke up behind them. They all turned around to see Laura in perfectly healthy condition. Her breathing was slightly heavy and she seemed to be sweating a bit, but that only showed that she had just finished some sort of workout.

“Is it fake then?” Regnitz mused out loud, staring at the large, cursive red B on the white card. “But could a mere imposter of the Phantom Thief really bypass Fie’s senses like that?”

“My weapons are 100% missing, so this has to be real,” Fie reminded them. 

Laura raised an eyebrow to that statement, clearly suspicious. “He stole your weapons but not you? If you weren’t alerted, then wouldn’t that have been a perfect time to kidnap you?”

“I’m still here, though.”

“Not necessarily,” Regnitz muttered out loud. “Phantom Thief B is also known as a master of disguise. There’s a possibility that he could be posing as one of us right now…”

Jusis sighed, covering his face with the palm of his hand. If that was the case, then the goal of this game was clear: find the fake, then find the missing teammate. But how could they find the imposter if they barely knew each other, or rather, barely tried knowing each other? At the same time, what if this ‘game’ was just to mess with their heads and it turned out everyone was real?

Though the part of the letter that said, ‘I shall be watching close by,’ would make more sense if he was actually pretending to be someone here.

Really, this game was not worth spending any of his mental energy on. 

“Machias, Jusis,” Rean piped up from his silence. “You two left together, so you two can vouch for each other’s identities, right?”

They both nodded slowly, panicking at the realization that the only person they could trust here was each other.

Great . Just perfect . He could already feel another headache ready to hit him. 

“I would prefer it if you lead the investigation, Rean. Even if you turned out to be the imposter,” Regnitz crossed his arms, face contorting in disgust at the thought of working with Jusis. 

Rean frowned, eyes knitting in frustration. “Machias…”

They would get nowhere like this, so Jusis decided to swallow his pride and focus on finding out who was fake. 

“Fine then. Regnitz and I will lead the investigation and figure out who the imposter is,” he sighed, throwing a glare at Regnitz to dare him to argue with his declaration. To his pleasure, the commoner only rolled his eyes before eventually agreeing. 

“Let’s just get this over with.”

---

This was absurd. They were very limited in how they could verify the identities of their classmates. The first suggestion was to see if the three could still perform their physical skills and abilities, but he refused to let anyone fight in the middle of his home city and Laura admitted to killing every monster on the highway, so no one could show the true extent of their abilities. Plus, it wasn’t fair to Fie, who was without her weapons. 

Rean suggested that they could all link up with each other and see if anything felt different, but his was lost and everyone else’s ARCUS links were still busted from their earlier battle. 

The only other option they could think of was to quiz each other about personal information and hope they knew something about their classmates that Phantom Thief B didn’t.

“What are the chances that the Phantom Thief knows more than we do about our own classmates?” Laura had questioned, supporting the idea of conducting an interrogation. 

Jusis almost scoffed at the inquiry, believing that the chances were remarkably high. First, Regnitz had distanced himself from almost everyone in this group, so there was no way he knew any information beyond a general student profile. Jusis on the other hand, knew Laura’s background and aspirations fairly well, but he barely knew anything about Fie beyond the information she had revealed to him half an hour ago. 

As for Rean…

His crystal blue eyes narrowed at his friendly classmate upon realizing that he didn’t know much about him. The only thing he was aware of his raven-haired friend was his mixed status and recently acquired hobbies.

...This was going to be difficult. 

And so there they were, sitting in chairs around a table in their hotel room. They decided to interrogate Fie first because most of the suspicion was currently casted on her for being in the same room where her weapons were taken and the note was placed.

Though, if Jusis had to be honest, he hoped she wasn’t the fake. Earlier, she had admitted to him why she didn’t trust him. If she was actually the Phantom Thief at the time, then that meant two things. One: He clearly knew much more about his classmates than he did. Two: His next interaction with the real Fie was going to be fairly awkward.  

“Name.”

“Fie Claussell.”

Jusis crossed his arms, sighing. “Regnitz, we don’t need to waste time asking them general questions that anyone else could figure out.”

“Shuddap! Can you not criticize me for one damned second!?” Regnitz hissed, annoyed. “You never know, the Phantom Thief could slip up with the basics if he got too cocky. And why wouldn’t he be cocky when he’s dealing with a bunch of teenagers?”

"I doubt a professional would slip up, especially now after hearing you say something like that out loud."

"Why, you—"

"Guys, focus," Rean’s stern voice cut through their little quarrel. Regnitz sighed, continuing the interrogation.

“Home.”

“Trista, currently. Besides that, I don’t have any.”

Jusis tapped his fingers against the table out of frustration and impatience. They were going to get nowhere with questions they knew the answers to. Obviously they knew very little about Fie, and thus the possibility that they knew something about her that the Phantom Thief didn’t was almost zero. He mused that a better strategy would be to ask questions that no one but Fie would know. Assuming the Phantom Thief also did not know the answer, he would respond with hesitation, uncertain if the others knew the answer as well. He could even feel cornered and give up this little game he set. 

“Names of parents,” Jusis took the lead in the interrogation. Knowing that Fie was an orphan, then this information wouldn’t be clearly stated on her student profile. Only a limited amount of people would know, and he doubted that the Phantom Thief was prepared enough to grab that piece of information.

“I don’t remember them. But Rutger Claussell was like a dad to me.”

No one made any indication that they were surprised that Fie was basically the daughter of the Jaeger King. In the corner of his eyes, Jusis could see Laura lean forward with interest. 

Still, this information wasn’t specific. The Phantom Thief could have easily pulled out an answer like that out of thin air, 

"Why did you enroll in Thors?"

"Sara forced me to."

“Why were you under her care when you used to be part of Zephyr?” Jusis wasn’t sure if Regnitz’s inquiry was more for their investigation or more out of curiosity.

“Boss gave Sara guardianship over me.”

Out of the corner of his eye, he saw Regnitz dial his ARCUS, presumably to call Instructor Sara to verify this information. Not wanting to waste time and wait for their instructor to answer the call while drunk (which was a high probability), Jusis continued the questioning… well, he would have, if someone else didn’t first. 

"Why do you live?" 

Everyone turned their attention to Laura, who had asked that question. He wanted to clarify to everyone that the point of this interrogation wasn’t to satisfy their own curiosities, but he knew how much Fie’s upbringing and way of life confused the swordswoman. He still felt sore from all the spars Laura had asked him to participate in because she needed to vent out her frustrations about the ex-jaeger, so he decided to let her indulge her spirit of inquiry. 

Fie shrugged, unfazed by the depth behind a seemingly simple question. “Can’t I?”

Laura shifted a hand to rest on her hip as she regarded her classmate with a deep frown. “You don’t care about anything. You don’t do anything. The only time you exercise any desire or free will is to fight or to nap.” She took a deep breath, seemingly taking time to gather her thoughts. “You say you fight to survive, but why would you care when you seem so indifferent to everything?”

“It’s not like I want to die—” 

“—True, but it is beyond me how you’ve gotten so strong with such a lack of motivation to better yourself—”

“—Oftentimes, only the strong survive—”

“—We live in a world where the strong can do good and protect the weak—”

“—That’s your world—”

“—Are you not living in the same world as me?—”

"—You grew up in a safe home. I grew up in a battlefield—"

"—I'm talking about the world we're living in now. And right now, we're living as military academy students."

"..." Instead of retorting, Fie yawned and averted her eyes away. She looked like she didn’t care enough to continue the discussion. 

In retaliation, Laura moved herself so that she was in Fie’s direct line of sight, locking their eyes with one another again. “Duel me again,” she requested and the fire in her eyes told everyone that she wouldn’t be taking no for an answer. “This time I’ll win and you’ll tell me everything.”

“Laura—” Rean tried to say, but he was cut off by the ex-jaeger. 

“Did you forget I don’t even have my weapons? And that you might be fake?” Fie rolled her eyes, not interested in fighting. 

“After this situation ends then.”

Both girls glared at each other one last time before looking away from each other and promptly falling silent. 

Jusis frowned. They both seemed honest throughout their entire conversation. If the Phantom Thief was Laura, he found it hard to believe that he would interrupt the interrogation to act like he was satisfying Laura’s curiosity. He also found it hard to believe that the Phantom Thief could replicate Laura’s passion for her chivalric philosophy.

All of a sudden, indiscernible shouting was heard from Regnitz’s ARCUS before he snapped the device closed rather forcefully. “Instructor Sara confirmed Fie’s statement,” Regnitz said, giving no elaboration on why Instructor Sara was presumably yelling at him. To be fair, he didn’t have to explain anything. Everyone already guessed that she was probably drunk and scolding him for ruining her good time. 

Hearing that confirmation made Jusis believe that Fie was genuine. After all, there couldn’t have been many present to witness the Jaeger King tell Instructor Sara to take care of her, and he doubted whoever was there would gossip about seemingly trivial matters by jaeger standards.

With these thoughts, he turned his attention to Rean, all his suspicion having left the girls and was now resting on the boy. To his surprise, his classmate’s face was completely unreadable. His expression was neutral, giving none of his thoughts away. 

“Name.” Regnitz started the interrogation once again. 

“Rean Schwarzer.”

“Names of parents.”

“Teo Schwarzer and Lucia Schwarzer.”

Regnitz paused, furrowing his eyebrows in deep thought . He eventually asked, “Names of birth parents.”

Jusis raised his brow, interested in the answer of the question. It was no secret, for those who tried to look beyond the surface, that Rean always dodged questions about himself. Jusis was one such person, curious about how a noble could act so un-noblelike. One could say it was because his adoptive parents blurred the lines between noble and commoner in their domain, but Laura’s dad was similar. It didn’t explain why Rean went out of the way to act like he was beneath everyone, regardless of their status. 

He suspected that Rean’s former family must have not been well off, and he probably worked as some sort of servant, being conditioned to act like his own well-being was inferior to everyone else's. His other, less-believable theory was that Rean was secretly arrogant and thought everyone else was unable to take care of themselves, which was why he was always ready to give a helping hand. 

Regardless, if this was the Phantom Thief, he doubted he would be getting a real answer. Unless the Phantom Thief called them out on their bluff or somehow gained access to this information, the only acceptable responses the thief could spout would be the truth, or that he didn’t remember.

“...” Lilac eyes looked up and scrutinized everyone’s faces. “...I can’t say.”

Noise ceased in their room as all eyes narrowed on the interrogee. 

A vague response. After a suspiciously long silence. It could mean he didn’t know or he didn’t want to reveal his biological parents’ identities. Either response wouldn’t have been ringing any alarm bells, but he went for such an imprecise answer. 

Why?

Jusis leaned forward, inserting his own question into the interrogation. “Where did you live before Ymir?”

“I…” The facade of indifference broke apart as Rean anxiously bit his lip, deeply frowning. “...I can’t say.”

It seemed like he wouldn’t say anything about his past. Was it because this was the Phantom Thief and he didn’t know the right way to answer? Was it because this was genuinely Rean and he didn’t want any detail of his past to slip? But wouldn’t that be uncharacteristic? Rean was always striving to push the group forward no matter how much it exhausted himself. Jusis didn’t see why Rean would genuinely impede them now, especially because of his unknown past as a commoner . 

Rean couldn't have much to hide with his commoner background. Though, if he was that uncomfortable with revealing the truth, he could have said so and everyone would have likely been understanding. 

To choose such an answer that held so much uncertainty behind it… this couldn't be Rean.

It seemed like the others silently agreed with him, pinning the raven haired student with their suspicious glares as the air filled up with more tension. 

“What was your previous last name?”

This time, Rean took a deep breath and looked at all of them defensively. “I can’t say, but I know that I never told any of you that.”

A valid answer. The point of this interrogation was to see if there were any discrepancies between their information and the Phantom Thief’s, or to make the imposter slip up. The Phantom Thief couldn’t have known that Rean had never revealed anything to them, though it was possible that he could simply be calling them out on their bluff now. After all, no one outright opposed him for his previous answers.

“You did tell me,” Jusis lied, seeing if ‘Rean’ would panic. 

Instead, his eyes were resolute and his voice did not waver. “I didn’t.”

“Okay then,” Laura calmly spoke up, though her fingers were playing with the hilt of her sword. “ Why can’t you tell us?”

“...” ‘Rean’ looked down to his fidgeting fingers, avoiding everyone else’s piercing gazes. He was clearly uncomfortable with their questions, though it could have been all an act. 

“I don’t mean to be rude, but you said your parents were commoners,” Jusis pointed out. “In our society, they couldn’t have been important enough to keep their identities a secret. So what is the point in you hiding the truth? Especially in a situation like this?”

It would make sense if he kept his noble parents a secret because they held some degree of significance. Commoners, however, rarely held significance, especially a decade or so ago when Rean supposedly still lived with his commoner parents. 

“...” He kept his silence.

“Is it because you don’t want to tell us?” Fie joined in, sitting sideways so she would be ready to move and capture if necessary. “Or because you don’t know, Phantom Thief .”

“...”

“Would it be because you just can’t trust us with the truth?” Regnitz harshly asked, pushing his glasses up with two fingers, one at each side of the frames . “Which sounds pretty absurd, considering ‘you’ said, I trust you guys , before we fought the quest monster.”

It was glaringly obvious that everyone thought that the ‘Rean’ here was fake. It was about time for the Phantom Thief to break his silence, concede his defeat and reveal his true self now. 

 

But that didn’t happen. 

 

Instead, lilac eyes widened with… sadness? Fear? Then, Rean looked away from them and shook his head in resignation, weakly saying, “I’m sorry.”

 

And Jusis hesitated. 

 

Rean had rarely shown signs of discomfort or signs of giving up. Jusis had only heard from his classmates that Rean panicked around fire. But… He never looked so fragile before. Not when he was stuck dealing with a group as chaotic as this. Not when he was hurt out on the field. 

To act so nervous and resigned…no one had seen him like this before. This behavior was too uncharacteristic of him. If the Phantom Thief was a master of disguise, wouldn’t he be focused on staying in character? Wouldn’t he have answered these questions with the usual smile and awkwardness that was so ‘Rean’? 

Plus, shouldn’t the game have ended because they all agreed that he was the fake?

Assuming… Assuming for one second this was actually Rean, despite his very inconsistent and suspicious behavior, then...

...then why was Rean refusing to answer their questions?

...And who was the imposter?

His eyes scanned over the words on the Phantom Thief’s card once more as his classmates pressured Rean to give up.

That radiance is no doubt the fruit of the bonds you share with one another. Bonds, which, today, I wish to test.

Thinking about those sentences, it would make sense if the imposter was Rean. After all, he was the one who actually had authentic bonds with the rest of the class that would be worth testing. It would seem like quite an easy game if he took advantage of everyone’s trust in Rean and guided everyone’s assumptions into thinking that someone else was the culprit. 

And yet, ‘Rean’ answered the worst way possible to their inquiries. 

I wish to see how you act when the seeds of distrust and discord are sown among you... 

The Phantom Thief seemed to have some sort of sadistic streak, deriving pleasure from watching his victims struggle to reclaim what was lost. This group already didn’t trust each other, so the Phantom Thief didn’t need to do anything to see their strife with each other. And even then, if his goal was to create more discord, then it wasn’t working. In fact, they were more unified than ever to get rid of the imposter and get their friend back. 

However... wouldn't it be ironic for them to place all their suspicion on 'Rean', hoping to get him back, and it turned out that he was real all along?

Jusis wanted to scold himself for his thoughts. This was all frustrating, useless conjecture. It was probably pointless and a waste of mental energy to continue such a line of thoughts. Plus, he never cared about another person’s personal business unless it was necessary.

...On the other hand, Rean’s situation was too abnormal. He couldn’t say anything about his commoner parents. He was adopted by nobles, but why did they specifically choose him ? If they wanted commoner children so much, then why didn’t they adopt more ? Why did he act like his secret was worse than Fie revealing that she was a jaeger, someone who potentially killed dozens or even hundreds of people?

It would make sense if the Phantom Thief was simply posing as him and did not know the answers. But if he wasn’t, and the game ended, would they still be able to trust Rean to lead them? The problem that Machias had with Jusis, and that Laura had with Fie was the inability to understand each other. It was becoming glaringly apparent that no one here knew Rean at all. No one understood him so why would they trust him when they couldn’t trust the others?

What a cruel irony. Jusis wouldn’t be surprised that would be the type of humor the Phantom Thief would enjoy…

Keeping note of those thoughts in the back of his head, he continued his analysis of the letter.

I will be stealing from you one of your beloved classmates.

Either Fie, Laura, or Rean was the imposter. Putting aside Rean for now, it couldn’t be Fie because Instructor Sara verified private information about her. Maybe it was time to interrogate Laura just to make sure…

But wait… was it wrong to presume that only those three could be the imposter?

There was still one other person...

Jusis glanced at Regnitz, who was still trying to press a silent Rean for answers. 

The group trusted him and Regnitz because they could supposedly vouch for each other’s identities, but there was a single moment where they had separated, and Regnitz had gone to the bathroom by himself. Was it possible that Regnitz was kidnapped at that very moment?

They had assumed that the Phantom Thief had already kidnapped someone by the time Fie had found that letter. But…

I will be stealing from you one of your beloved classmates.

Will. That word meant that the kidnapping would take place after she had found the letter.

So it was fully plausible for Regnitz to have been kidnapped at the bathroom. Was that why he took so long?

Thinking back on it, they had only argued twice since they returned to the hotel. Jusis didn’t put much thought into it, dreading the possibility that Regnitz was pitying him after witnessing that humiliating interaction between him and his father. There was also the possibility that Regnitz was more concerned about the imposter in their group, but in hindsight, would the commoner’s concern really have overridden his impatience with Jusis? Would it be enough for Regnitz to only have one argument with him at the beginning of their interrogation and then somehow fluidly work together since then?

And at this very moment, as if to answer his questions, Jusis saw Regnitz push up his glasses. Not with the index finger pushing up the bridge, but with the thumb and middle finger pushing up the frames of the glasses once again. 

(He hated how seeing that felt so wrong . He would absolutely tell no one of how hyper aware he was of his rival’s ridiculous habits.)

About to voice his absurd thoughts, he loudly coughed to gain everyone’s attention. 

But he was too late.

*SLAM*

The door was kicked open, harshly colliding against the wall. At the entrance stood Instructor Sara, and in her arm, being carried like baggage, was a motion sick Machias Regnitz.

“Hmmm... I seem to have one extra student, but I don’t remember hearing about another transfer request~” Instructor Sara loudly exclaimed, eyes already boring holes into the duplicate sitting on the bed. “I wonder where he came from?”

“Who the hell is that!?” The Regnitz who was with her shouted in disbelief. “Why does he look like me?”

“Wait, so does that mean…?” Laura muttered to herself. 

It meant they were wrong, Rean here was real, and he really was a treasure trove of secrets. 

“My, my…” Everyone watched as a puff of smoke suddenly filled the air surrounding ‘Regnitz’. Once the air cleared, there stood the image of a blue-haired masked man in a ridiculously fancy outfit. “I was hoping we could reach a conclusion before the Purple Lightning could arrive~”

“Cut the crap, Bleublanc,” hissed their instructor as she pointed her gun and blade at him. “What intentions do you have with my students?”

“I thought you already knew me well by now? I just wanted to play a little game, and your little ducklings certainly delivered~” His masked gaze landed on each of the students, thanking them for their ‘show’. “To bear witness to the dimming and cracking of your radiant bonds was truly a sight to behold. It brings a delightful tear to my eye to have watched the sad splendor of your failures. I must thank you all for this beautiful show! You especially,” he said as he smirked at Rean, adding onto everyone’s suspicion of him. “Until next time~”

“Wait—!”

Another puff of white smoke flooded the room. They could hear his annoying laugh echo through the smoke until the air cleared, with Bleublanc nowhere in sight. 

Everyone turned their attention to Rean, who the Phantom Thief had explicitly called out. The boy was pale and sweaty, not looking at anyone, as he slowly stood up.

His eyes seemed so... scared.

“I— I… need to get some air,” he said as he ran past Instructor Sara and left the room. 

Jusis covered his face with the palm of his hand, sighing in frustration.

They messed up.

Instructor Sara casually walked into the room, darting her gaze to the rest of her students as she tossed a couple of gunblades to Fie. “So…” She finally released Regnitz from her grip as she let a hand rest on her hip, tilting her head curiously at the silent students. “Anyone want to tell me what’s going on?”

 

---

---

 

His breathing came out in gasps, having run relentlessly and aimlessly around the city until the loud sound of an airship’s engine revving up disturbed him out of his thoughts. He looked around, barely processing much imagery as most of the objects in his surroundings were covered in the dark veil of night. The only thing he could tell was that he was currently at the airport and some employee off in the distance was sleeping on the job. 

Collapsing to the floor, he relaxed his legs as he took one long, deep breath. Closing his eyes, he let himself sort through his emotions he had for the events that occurred today. 

He had fought Bleublanc, and he… won (accidentally using a small portion of Ishmelga’s power). Rean was utterly shocked when his blade managed to cleanly cut through that white mask. It seemed… too easy, as if the fight was some sort of test. But Bleublanc non-threatenly faced him and applauded. 

“Aha… New inspiration strikes me!”

Then it turned out the man was actually fooling around this entire time because Bleublanc suddenly unleashed his whole arsenal of unpredictable illusions and magic tricks. Rean was almost entirely powerless in the fight and only managed to defend himself from most of the damage. Though, the moment a magic knife had pierced the edge of his shadow and he found himself completely immobile, he was so sure that he was done for. 

But Bleublanc, true to his erratic and spontaneous nature, changed his mind once again. The man just left, taking his ARCUS with him and leaving Rean stuck in place until the sun moved his shadow away from the knife pinning him in place. 

Rean spent the next half hour paralyzed and cursing his luck. However, he supposed Bleublanc was all about fortune: A person would have to be extremely unfortunate to cross paths with him and become a victim to one of his games, so it was no surprise Rean would find himself among the unlucky bunch to be a victim.

The moment he was freed from the magic trick, he ran all the way to the city to regroup with his classmates. He wasn’t as surprised as he was annoyed to learn that the Phantom Thief decided to kidnap and impersonate one of his other classmates. And… he had to admit feeling extremely guilty because if he didn't try to resist so much, then one of his classmates wouldn't have had to be kidnapped.

Having no way to prove himself real, he suggested that everyone could trust Machias and Jusis because they could verify each other’s identities, having supposedly been together since the group split up (and he was pleasantly surprised to see neither had an injuries they could have inflicted on each other; he wondered if they somehow made up because they weren’t acting so hostile toward each other). 

The subsequent interrogation, however, ruined him. He knew what their strategy was: To catch Bleublanc off guard with questions he couldn’t possibly answer or know if their real classmate had told everyone else the truth. Focusing questions on Rean’s past before he was adopted was smart because Bleublanc wouldn’t have known how to answer, possibly resulting in suspiciously long pauses for him to think if he couldn’t catch them in their bluff. It probably could have worked if Bleublanc was indeed pretending to be Rean. 

But he wasn’t. And what was worse was that Rean couldn’t even answer those questions himself, making himself appear more untrustworthy to the others. 

 

“Or maybe you just can’t trust us with the truth. Which sounds pretty absurd, considering ‘you’ said, ‘I trust you guys’, before we fought the quest monster.”

 

The burning sense of hatred reserved for only himself was now attacking him at full force, screaming at him how much of a hypocrite he was. Seriously, he had no right to help those four get along when he’d been hiding things about himself they were all sure to hate.

This whole situation and those words (even if they came from Bleublanc) was a painful reminder that Class VII could never trust him because he could never reveal to them who he really was. However, it hurt more to think about it now than before, having been sucked into the illusion that a lot of these people thought of him as a friend. 

And that was why he never said that he wasn't the imposter. He had felt so fake at the moment that he wondered if that was the true point of Bleublanc's game.

A drop of water splashed onto the back of his hand. He looked up, seeing the stars all cloaked by dark clouds, briefly surging with electricity. In no time, more drops of water collided against his skin and clothes until it felt like he was taking a high pressure shower.

He considered moving back to the hotel, but he wasn’t ready to confront his classmates. No doubt, they were curious and suspicious about why he withheld his answers. He decided to bear with the heavy rain and sit still. Maybe the rain would wash away his insecurities. 

(No matter how many times he found himself in this situation, it never did)

At the crackle of lightning, Rean suddenly sensed a familiar presence standing next to him.

It was Bleublanc, seemingly unbothered by the rain. Actually, looking closely, it seemed like not a drop of rain was hitting him, so he was probably using some kind of magic to keep himself dry. 

“Did you have to make it obvious to my classmates that I'm not willing to divulge a lot of information about myself?” he weakly glared at the man, very unhappy with the events that Bleublanc instigated today. Bleublanc could say Class VII was his target, but it was obvious that Rean was at the center of his schemes, intending to make him struggle more out of the rest of them. And yet, he couldn’t find it in himself to hate the man, instead placing most of the blame on himself for being an incompetent leader and classmate worth trusting. 

"Ah, that was a requirement!” Bleublanc carefreely held his arms out, as if he was shaping out his grand vision with his gestures. “After all, the most brilliant of bonds are ones that can persevere through the careful lens of suspicion!"

Rean didn’t really believe in his bonds and he didn’t want to think about their current state. What he was more curious about was why Bleublanc had targeted him . “Why are you fixated on me?”

The last time Bleublanc was reported to have an obsession with someone was two years ago, with Princess Klaudia of Liberl. And… well… Rean was nothing like her. He didn’t see why the Phantom Thief would bother to mess with him.

“Hmmm… I wouldn’t say I’m fixated on you, per se. Consider it a mere interest of mine, only because I find it fascinating how my rival believes true beauty is love , and yet you, the very center of his precious project, would spend every last breath refusing it.” Bleublanc spoke with the usual exaggerated haughtiness, yet his voice was also laced with a hint of curiosity. “You also do not fit into my wonderful definition of true beauty, which can only be born from pride .”

Rean furrowed his eyebrows, trying to decipher Bleublanc’s words behind all the sophistication and glamour. So Prince Olivert wouldn’t consider him beautiful, nor would Bleublanc. He could believe that, but he didn’t understand the point. 

“You are the antithesis of love and pride —of any form of true beauty—which can only mean you are absolutely and utterly ugly! How ironic, considering you are surrounded by beautiful bonds brimming with such traits.”

Rean suddenly felt a weight land on his lap. Picking it up, he noticed that the object of said weight was his ARCUS. 

And it was calling an unknown number. 

"What..?"

His heart stopped when the call went through, and a familiar voice sounded from the device.

"Arianrhod speaking."

He almost dropped the ARCUS, dumbfoundedly staring at Bleublanc who was nonchalantly pushing his thumb and middle finger against his mask, keeping it in place. Only a hint of a smile touched his lips.

He was so utterly confused. First, Bleublanc was messing with him, and now this? His heart thudded, telling him to hang up immediately, but his fingers wouldn’t move. 

“...” He couldn't will himself to say anything either.

He must’ve been silent for too long, even though he didn’t feel like a second had passed, because a new voice roared through the speakers. "If this is you, Campanella, and you are prank-calling my Lord again, I SWEAR I will FIND YOU and SMITE YOU AND SEND YOU ALL THE WAY TO GEHENNA!"  

Rean promptly slammed his ARCUS shut.

Keeping his voice as steady as possible as he shoved all his confusing thoughts and feelings to the depths of his heart, he asked, "Why are you doing this?"

"As I have said before, I only follow the pursuit of beauty. And you, when you are by yourself, are rarely beautiful, hence why I have taken rather extreme measures to take a glimpse at your potential.” Bleublanc spoke his next words softly, briefly losing the whimsical edge to his voice. “And perhaps I have a small favor to pay to Lady Arianrhod.”

“Huh?” It was hard to hear that last part without being deafened by the storm. 

Instead of repeating himself, Bleublanc stepped away and turned around. “Farewell now,” He raised his voice again, flashing a mischievous grin. “I do hope our next encounter will prove to be even more splendid~”

Rean had no idea what to feel at the moment, but was certain that he would not be looking forward to such a time.

With another flash of lightning obscuring his vision for just a second, he could no longer sense the Phantom Thief’s presence in the area, leaving him all alone. He sighed, putting his ARCUS in his back pocket, trying to ignore the fact that he now had Lianne’s number registered in there. 

He continued to sit there, under the pounding rain, too focused on his thoughts than to worry about his environment. After a few hours or maybe just a few minutes—he had trouble keeping track of time when he was too focused on thinking—the rain ceased to pelt him despite how the sounds of the storm were never stopping or slowing down. 

Looking up, he saw Instructor Sara holding an umbrella over him. Her expression was as carefree as always. 

“What are you doing sulking out here in the rain? You’ll catch a cold at this rate! Let’s get you back to the hotel where it’s all nice and warm, kid!”

Rean shook his head, thankful for the offer but still not ready for confrontation. “Before that… I actually have a question for you,” he slowly said as his instructor sat in a squat, lowering the umbrella near his head while listening attentively. “Why did you choose me to help this group work together? Surely Gaius would have been more effective.” He sighed, deciding that looking at the rain pitter patter on the ground was more interesting than Instructor Sara’s inquisitive look. “Plus, I know you’ve been suspicious of me since the very beginning. I almost can’t believe you let someone like me deal with your most troubled students by myself...”

“Whatever could you mean~?” Instructor Sara asked in a sing-songy voice before she saw Rean’s flat expression; he had no energy to deal with her feigned ignorance. “If I had to be honest, I felt like there was something familiar about you.”

Probably from when she met the Ashen Saint before. 

“Now, I didn’t get the happy nostalgia sort of vibes from you. My first feeling was to be cautious of you. And hearing Bleublanc casually call you out like that makes me believe you have some tie to Ouroboros.”

He felt strangely calm to hear that assumption. While the statement was somewhat true, it was also way off the mark from where his true allegiances lied. 

“The fact that you’re not questioning what Ouroboros is only proves my point that you at least know about the secret society ,” Instructor Sara added after Rean decided to not comment on anything. “Also, earlier, you said that I let someone like you deal with my students . It sounds like you view yourself as an outsider… as if you don’t belong to the class… like you’re a spy …”

His mistake. He was so overwhelmed by feelings that he didn’t notice that his true feelings were leaking out with his words.

Clearly, she was closely watching him for any changes in his expression. So now he channeled his memories about Ishmelga to remain stone-faced. Though in the back of his mind, he couldn’t help but wonder if she believed he was an Enforcer or at least worked for Ouroboros to some extent. 

“I really doubt Bleublanc would be so obvious about your connection to him, but that’s just what my gut is telling me~”

Rean frowned. That didn’t answer his question at all. In fact, it only served to confuse him more about her decision. “If that’s what you think, then why did you..?”

“Well, regardless of whatever you’re hiding, you supposedly have an interesting background that gives you a unique perspective on Jusis and Machias’ conflict. I also felt like you just have this weird ability to get people to work together, no matter their problem with each other,” she yawned, watching the rain splash against the ground with him. “Spy or not, if you have abilities I can exploit to save the rest of the class, then I sure as hell will be exploiting you to help my students~”

So Instructor Sara saw him as a tool to benefit the class? That was fairly accurate, considering that was mostly the reason why he was in this class in the first place…

(Even though he felt like such an utterly useless tool at the moment…)

“...And along the way, I’ll save you too. After all, you’re my student, and I refuse to leave one of my little lambs behind~”

Huh!?

His eyes snapped toward hers, seeing her ridiculously smirk at him as if she didn’t just spout utter nonsense. First off, he was beyond saving. Second off, this was a huge misunderstanding. He could tell what she was thinking; she believed that he was involved in some mess with Ouroboros and deemed it necessary to get him out of that mess like what Cassius Bright did for Joshua Astray. 

“I think you’re jumping to too many unreasonable conclusions,” he sternly said with a frown. “I don’t need any saving. You can ask my parents and they’ll say the same.” Truth. “I’m not Ouroboros’ spy. Bleublanc and I have met before, which is why he acted so familiar with me.” Also the truth. 

Instructor Sara’s eyes narrowed, trying to read him, before a relaxed grin broke out on her face. “Fine then, whatever you say~” Her eyes softened, giving him a sincere look. “Just know that, as your instructor, I’m willing to help you with anything. Well, almost anything~”

Rean got the feeling that she didn’t completely believe him, but her offer to help him was still completely genuine.

He sighed in defeat. Should he expect to see adoption papers again and gain a fourth mother figure? Though, if anything, Instructor Sara acted more like a crazy aunt.

Shaking his head out of such absurd thoughts, he said, “I'll let you know if I need anything." No, he wouldn't. Feeling too uncomfortable with the topic, he abruptly changed the subject of discussion. “By the way, I wasn’t expecting you to check on us so soon. How did you find Machias?”

Instructor Sara grimaced, clearly not happy with the sudden topic change, but she didn’t comment about it. Taking a deep breath, she prepared to tell a long story.

“Well…”

---

Apparently, Instructor Sara had arrived at Bareahard while the group was exploring Aurochs Canyon Path. Not soon after, she received a call from the members of Group B, saying that they were worried about Group A because Rean and the other members of Group B were not picking up the calls (which was because, by then, Bleublanc had stolen Rean’s and everyone else silenced their ARCUS’, not wanting to be bothered during the aftermath of their failed linking). 

She searched the entirety of Bareahard (that she could access) for the group, but to no avail. She then left to check North Kreuzen Highway, presumably moments before Fie returned to the city. When the rest of the group reunited at the hotel, Instructor Sara finished investigating the highway and then moved to check Aurochs Canyon Path. 

While she was exploring that area, she received a call from ‘Machias’, who asked if it was true that the Jaeger King gave her guardianship over Fie. She confirmed it, and it was moments later when she saw the real Machias tied up to a tree with duct tape covering his mouth. She then started yelling at the ARCUS, hoping the other classmates could hear her, but Bleublanc ended the call shortly after. 

Promptly, she freed Machias and hightailed it to their hotel room, revealing to everyone that she had the real Machias. 

Rean almost laughed. The situation that they experienced was only possible because of an extreme amount of bad luck. What were the chances that everyone’s ARCUS’ were silent and Instructor Sara happened to miss them, not once, but twice? He wanted to believe that Bleublanc had a hand to play in this, but he wasn’t sure if the Enforcer was capable of giving them so much misfortune. 

“Now, are you ready to go back inside?” Instructor Sara asked once she finished telling her story. Rean stubbornly looked away from her. “Come on! No one’s going to hate you for keeping a bunch of secrets!”

Maybe that was true. “...But they’re going to hate me for being a hypocrite and a liar.” He had spoken from his heart when he said that he trusted him, but now he felt like a complete fake.

“Since when have you been so pessimistic?” she asked as she pulled him up to stand, while keeping the umbrella above both their heads. 

Always . But she was right, he shouldn’t have been acting so gloomy in front of her even though his chest felt pretty heavy at the moment. His role was to move the class forward, not hold them back with his own insecurities and selfishness. This class didn’t need him if he was going to be such a burden. Fueled by these thoughts, he looked at her and showed her his usual polite smile. “I was just kidding. I’ll try to make up with them as soon as I can.”

(He had no idea how he could make up with them. Maybe tell them more lies to make it seem like he was opening up to him?)

He ignored how his response only seemed to cause her to look… concerned. 

When they arrived at the hotel and stood in front of the group’s room, Rean couldn’t move his hand to open the door. Instructor Sara placed a hand on his shoulder. “I really have no idea what’s going on in that head of yours, but I feel like I need to tell you to not underestimate the bonds you forged here in school. A mistake isn’t going to make them forget what you’ve done for them these past two months.”

Did he do anything for them these past two months? If he did, then he'd already forgotten, so he doubted they would remember. 

Still, he would temporarily repeat her words to himself, if only to relieve his anxiety for just a moment.

He opened the door and parted ways with Instructor Sara, who left to go to her own room. Inside was surprisingly peaceful, especially since these four were left by themselves for a considerable amount of time. They were all in their beds, supposedly sleeping, while only the light in the bathroom was turned on. 

Quickly, Rean went into the bathroom to change out of his soaking wet clothes as well as to prepare for bed. When he finished his business, he reentered the room and saw that Laura was sitting up and looking at him expectantly. 

He briefly nodded to her before he sat on his own bed. He could tell, by the sound of everyone’s breathing, that everyone was awake. However, it seemed like they somehow agreed that only one person would confront him about what happened earlier. 

Though… he could just ignore her.

No . He had to keep moving forward.

(Even though he hated moving forward. He was scared of the future... Another thing that made him a hypocrite.)

Taking a deep breath to mentally prepare himself, he whispered, “I… suppose you’re curious about why I neglected to reveal anything about my past.”

“Naturally,” Laura replied, also with a hushed voice even though she was aware that everyone else was listening intently. “It frustrates me when I don't know much about people I like. And it just so happens that I like you, so I want to know more about you… especially about why you refuse to spar with me.” She paused for a second before her tone shifted to sound understanding. “However, if revealing any information is uncomfortable to you, then you don’t need to say anything.”

Rean was glad that the room was veiled in darkness because he wasn’t sure what his expression looked like at the moment. There was a lot to process with what she said (as well as a lot to not believe), so he tried to focus on the important parts. 

He didn’t feel like it was fair to keep being silent. He also... really didn’t want to lie to them any more than he already did, so he figured he could try to give them the bare minimum truth. 

"I'm not sure you'll find out everything you want to know, but I'll tell you a little bit about my past… before I was adopted."

He could hear the breathing of the two guys in the beds besides his slightly quicken with anticipation and curiosity. Fie's breathing didn't change, but he supposed that she was an expert at this sort of thing. Meanwhile, Laura simply looked at him with kind patience that was reminiscent of the way Lianne once looked at him before.

"My family back then was pretty simple. A loving mom… A loving dad… They wanted to give me all the happiness in the world… And I hoped to do the same for them whenever I was capable…"

He didn't want to go too into detail about his family or else his emotions would leak into his voice. Instead of elaborating more about them, he decided to go straight to the point.

"It all ended the day a noble decided to pay jaegers to attack my home."

At that, he could sense everyone twitch. Even Fie.

"Mom died. I barely survived." Unconsciously, he raised his hand to his chest as he skipped most of the details, trying to keep the memories away. It was fine though. They got the gist of his story. "Dad couldn't take care of me anymore, so he asked the Schwarzers, who he was close with, to take care of me."

"So the reason why you couldn't say anything was because…" Laura trailed off, but Rean could figure out her conclusion. She probably thought he kept silent about this because he wasn't allowed to say anything about it, especially since the reputation of a noble was on the line here.

Well, not really. That noble was dead. As well as all of those jaegers.

"Apologies for eavesdropping, but…" Rean looked to his side to see Jusis sitting up, looking confused at him. "Don't you hate nobles and jaegers for ruining your family?"

"If I did, I don't think I would have tried so hard to get you guys to get along," he chuckled halfheartedly to himself. "Maybe I should hate all of them, but…"

All his hatred was directed toward Ishmelga.

 

And to himself.

 

"My adopted parents are nobles, but they're great. I figured not all jaegers were evil either," he offered as his explanation instead, knowing that they would be satisfied with this admission.

"To hear you say that…" Laura muttered while her fingers twirled in her hair. "I feel like my issue with Fie is petty."

"Your feelings are genuine. You shouldn't downplay them because you think you have less right to by comparing them to my feelings and experiences," he gently protested as he wrapped the blankets around himself.

(More hypocrisy.)

"Anyway, I'm sorry for not being much help during that game—"

“No need,” Jusis cut him off. “You shouldn’t apologize for things that aren't your fault. In fact, it is our fault for suspecting you when it was obviously Regnitz. I should have known the imposter was Regnitz because the Phantom Thief’s impersonation is only 75% less irritating than the real deal.”

“HEY!” Now Machias was sitting up in his bed, glaring at Jusis. 

“My point stands.”

They devolved into an argument, sending insults to each other from their beds. To Rean’s surprise, hearing them argue this time sounded almost… peaceful. 

“Guess it’s time to apologize then.” His attention was grabbed by Fie, who also sat up and yawned. “Sorry for thinking you were that weirdo just because you wanted to keep some secrets. After all, everyone has something they don’t want to talk about.”

Rean raised his hands defensively, hoping the gesture would tell them that they didn’t need to apologize to him. "You had every right to suspect me because I wasn’t cooperating well! Plus, I lied to you. I said I trust you, but I can't even tell you..."

“No, Fie is right,” Laura said, agreeing with Fie for the first time ever. “Sometimes there are circumstances where you can't say something and that's fine. Maybe it's a sign of distrust, but your actions of helping us out so many times outweighs our suspicions on your silence. What is wrong is that you trusted us, yet we failed you so many times today. Once for severing our combat links. Twice for splitting up. And a third time for believing you were fake. It is only right for us to apologize. So…” She bowed her head. “I am sorry, Rean.”

“My apologies,” Jusis spoke, mimicking Laura’s actions. “I hope one day I can make up for my actions today.”

“Sorry.” Machias followed suit, but he forced his eyes to meet Rean’s utterly baffled expression. “And thanks for telling us a little about your past. It couldn’t have been easy…”

“...I… I don’t know what to say.”

He didn’t know what to think either. He wasn’t expecting to hear his classmates apologize to him, nor would he ever have been ready to hear such words directed at him of all people.

Were they saying that all his failures today were their failures? Were they saying it was okay for him to not tell them anything about his past? About how awful he was?

It made no sense. 

No sense at all.

“You don’t have to say anything,” Fie shrugged. “As long as you heard me, I don’t care what you say.”

“Fie…” Laura shook her head in automatic disapproval. 

“I…” Now he wanted to say he was sorry for making them apologize to him so badly, but a burning glare from Machias told him those wouldn’t be the right words. “I… uh… Thanks. And I forgive you all.”

He was surprised to hear four heavy sighs of relief when he finished his words.

“Great. Now that the sentimental talk is over, we can rest—”

“Can you not ruin the moment ONCE in your Aidios-damned life, Albarea?”

“Nah, he’s right. I’m ready to finally take a nice, long nap on these super classy beds.”

“...Did you not say you already took a nap on these beds earlier today?”

“Again then.”

“Ugh, this bed... Is this what taxpayer money is wasted on?”

“Regnitz, if the bed is too fancy for you, then I suggest you sleep on the bench outside. While it is still considered high quality for a bench, I believe it may be more to your liking.”

“Not gonna lie, sleeping on that bench sounds very appealing…”

“THERE’S A THUNDERSTORM OUTSIDE!”

“Actually, that might be a good idea for some excellent endurance training…”

Despite talking about sleeping, each of them only seemed to get more energized by arguing with each other. Somehow their little clash of words were like a lullaby to Rean.

He smiled, laying his head down on the pillow as his eyes drifted shut, succumbing to exhaustion.

Notes:

Heh, I always found it hilarious how the rivals who supposedly hate each other usually notice the strange, specific details about the other.

Looks like Rean was spared from explaining himself. For now... Also, this world needs more Duvalie, so of course I gave her a cameo!

Actual Author's Notes:

I'm curious if that cliffhanger last chapter made you assume that Rean was the one being impersonated. Can't say I have much experience writing mystery things like this, but I hope I fooled you for even just a moment! :3

Man, I remember when I originally planned to be at the Heimdallr field study by Chapter 10. My, how things change~ (which I'm thankful for because I like the pacing I found myself in)

Next chapter is the conclusion of Bareahard where we also get the last POV's of this group! Hmm... Hope nothing bad happens!

Thanks for reading, I'd appreciate a comment, and take care~

Chapter 10: Counting on You

Rean didn’t mean to let go of her hand. 

It was just… There were so many people moving around them in this city. One particular person was running by and accidentally bumped into their linked hands, causing him to release his grip and fall to the ground. Despite this little accident, the traffic around them incessantly continued, widening the gap between mother and son. 

With all the nonstop footsteps of the crowd threatening to stomp on him, Rean was forced to escape to an empty alleyway. He breathed heavily, scared because he didn’t know where he was nor did he know where his mom was. The only reason he didn’t burst into tears was because the sound of a loud sob reached his ears.

He turned his head to see an orange-haired boy curled up into a ball next to a couple of boxes. The sight made him feel bad and he remembered the sight of his dad sometimes offering to help poor people on the street. 

He stepped forward, reaching a hand out to gently tap on the boy’s shoulder. “Hey, are you okay?”

The boy looked up, eyes filling up with tears. “I ca— can’t find my sister...”

“I can help you find her.” He tried to assure him with a confident smile, mimicking what his dad usually did. “I also can’t find my mom, so we can look for them together!”

“You— You’re also lost?” The boy looked terrified and confused. “Then why are you smiling? What if you never see your mom ever again?”

That sounded like a scary thought. 

He pouted, placing his fist slightly above the ground. “That won’t happen. I’ll find her, or she’ll find me. After all, she promised…”

*knock* *thud* … *knock* *thud* *knock* *knock* … *knock* *thud* *thud* … *knock* *thud* … *thud* *knock* *thud* *thud* … *knock* *knock* *knock*

“...That she’ll always be with me,” Rean smiled, withdrawing his knuckles away from the ground.

---

He woke up feeling awful.

His body shivered despite how thick blankets were wrapped around him, sticking to the sweat on his skin. Automatically, he curled up into a ball and moved his hand (which took a lot more effort than it should have) to his forehead.

His skin was... so hot to touch.

But his whole body felt so cold; he couldn't stop shaking.

With these symptoms… There was no doubt he was sick. Probably a result from staying in the heavy rain for so long yesterday.

He laid in bed for an uncountable amount of time, hoping he could just melt into the mattress so he could stop feeling cold. Fearfully, he wondered if his alarm was about to ring. He wanted to sleep more even though the chills prevented him from being comfortable.

When another indecipherable amount of time passed and no sounds disturbed him, he weakly threw the blankets out of his face and slowly opened his eyes.

Bright. It was too bright. He was never in bed when sunlight flooded his room.

It was that moment when he realized he wasn’t even in his room. Mind still foggy, he remembered that he was staying at the hotel in Bareahard with his classmates.

Wait. He was alone in the room. Where were his classmates?

Panicked, he tried to climb off his bed, but only ended up getting more trapped in his blanket before he fell to the ground with a loud thud.

“Rean!” 

He was too focused on the pounding headache that hit him worse than his collision to the ground to notice that the door had opened and someone was now by his side.

“Machias?” His vision was too blurry, but he could recognize the spiky, green hair. “What… happened? Where’s everyone?”

“Eating breakfast at Sorciere. Though, Albarea’s away for the moment because his dad called him.” 

Rean could barely process that Machias was attempting to lift him off the ground but was failing because he didn’t exactly have the best upper body strength. Suddenly, a new presence entered the room and picked him up with ease, before placing him back on his bed.

“Thanks, Laura.” Machias sounded embarrassed.

"You're welcome," Laura nodded before turning her attention to Rean. "How do you feel?"

"Fine." 

His two classmates deadpanned at him, obviously not believing his word. To be honest, Rean wouldn't believe himself either because his body still would not stop shaking. Regardless, he sat up and attempted to get off the bed again, but Laura placed her hand on his shoulder, effectively stopping him. 

Weakly, he glared at the offending appendage. "I need to get ready for our field study."

"Not like that, you aren't." Machias crossed his arms, pinning Rean with a stern look.

"No…" He stubbornly shook his head, trying to convince them with the (very persuasive) dazed look in his eyes. "I can't just let you do it by yourselves… Especially since Jusis is temporarily gone."

"Nah, we'll be fine. Just get some rest. Sara said it was alright before she left to check on the other group." Fie piped up from the opposite side of his bed—and maybe he really was out of it if he didn't notice her slip into the room. 

"But you three…" Rean sat up as he confusedly looked at them, knowing their teamwork wouldn't be great. "Can you even link..?"

"I admit, it's still difficult for me and Fie to link up together," Laura sighed. "But Machias promised to pick up the slack while we deal with our problem." 

That didn’t sound right. Machias had trouble linking up with everyone in this group except him.

Upon seeing his frown, Machias rubbed the back of his neck while his cheeks flushed with embarrassment. “I know I haven’t been the most cooperative since the first day of school, but…” His eyes steeled with determination. “Thanks to you, I’m ready to work as a team.”

What?

Rean owlishly blinked at his classmate, uncertain if he was having a hallucination. His memory of the previous day was still hazy, but he was pretty sure that most of the events that happened yesterday could all be summed up as ‘awful’. Especially for Machias, who had to work in a group where he couldn’t trust most of the members, failed at linking, and even got kidnapped. 

Just how did that make any sense?

And yet, the determined look in Machias’ eyes was genuine. He was willing to do everything to help complete the field study, even if it meant taking Rean’s role in managing the unstable links. 

Rean couldn’t stop the feeling of a small warmth bloom in his chest, realizing that he… somehow did good yesterday.

Fie snorted. “Yeah, only because Jusis isn’t here.”

“Shaddup,” he muttered, rolling her eyes at her. 

Although, despite the little victory he was celebrating in his head, Rean still felt bad. “But…”

Laura gently pushed him back to lay on the bed. “Be honest, Rean. Do you even think you’re capable of holding your sword?”

Honestly? No. No he didn’t. His arms felt heavy… his whole body felt heavy. The thought of staying in this bed was almost irresistible. 

But he couldn’t just neglect his duty. 

She seemed to read his mind. “Then rest, or you’ll end up fainting outside. You can join us later if you’re feeling better.”

“What’s the point of saving others if you can’t even spare a moment to save yourself?” 

Hearing Laura reminded him of Master Yun Ka Fai’s words to him all those years ago. He sighed. They were right. They were all right. 

But he didn’t want to feel more useless .

“I—”

Fie cut him off, lightly dropping a pillow on his face. “If you keep being stubborn, then I’ll stay here and watch over you while Machias and Laura do the field study themselves.”

He kept his mouth shut and let his eyes close. He also didn’t want to be more of a burden .

---

It became night and not every part of the city had good lighting. 

The orange-haired boy was fearfully holding onto his wrist, following closely behind, while Rean led the way with his trusty lantern to light their path. He was trying to find the police or a bracer, but he surprisingly had no luck. 

Strange...

Rean knew that all the major buildings (with bracer guilds or police stations) were in open areas with bigger roads, but every turn they took led them to a narrower path. They continued to walk around, calling for their family but to no avail. Rean was starting to feel more anxious himself, but he didn’t lose hope. They would reunite with their families. 

However, he almost had a heart attack when all the lights in the city suddenly went out. 

And never came back on. 

Rean had heard about this before. It was called a blackout… or something like that.

The boy yelped, shaking and holding on to him with a tighter grip. The only reason Rean didn’t lose his confident smile was because the memory of his heroic dad and the light and warmth from the lantern was giving him comfort. 

But then… he saw two shadows approach him. 

One of them stepped close enough for the light to illuminate his features. Rean curiously saw a tall man in a police uniform. The man stared back with closed eyes and a smile. 

He was relieved; they finally found some help.

“My, my… What are two kids doing out here in the dark?” The man kneeled down and looked at them with concern. “It’s dangerous, you two! Especially now! Haven’t you heard that a lot of children have been getting kidnapped lately? Rumor says that there’s some cult out there stealing children!”

That was scary to hear, but at least the police found them first. They were safe now.

“Can you take us home, mister?” asked the boy behind him. 

“Sure, we’ll bring you home,” said the other man who stepped toward the light. He wasn’t wearing a uniform. Actually, he kind of looked like a doctor because of the white coat that he was wearing. “Your new home.”

Rean frowned. He didn’t like the sound of that. “I don’t want a new home. I want to go back to my parents.”

“Well that’s too bad.”

There was a shriek behind him at the same time the grip around his wrist was suddenly gone. He looked behind to see that the man had grabbed the boy, holding him up by the neck. 

What..?

“Drop the lantern, boy,” said the man in front of him, losing his friendly facade.

And, well, Rean threw the lantern at the man because he was scared. The man dodged, and the light landed somewhere far off in the distance, obscuring everyone here in the dark.

“HELP!” 

He struggled as he felt himself being lifted into the air. He was being carried under the man’s arm while his mouth was covered by the man’’s hand, muffling his screams.

Danger. 

“Let’s go,” said the man carrying the orange-haired boy.

Scary. 

This... wasn’t supposed to happen. He was just supposed to be helping his mom shop in the city. Right now, he was supposed to be back at home, sleeping. 

He was supposed to be with mom and dad. 

Somehow, he managed to move his mouth and bit into the man’s fingers with as much force he could muster into his jaw. The man hissed out in pain and accidentally dropped Rean to the ground.

“DAD! HELP!” he screamed out once again. He wanted his dad. He knew his dad could save him.

The man sounded furious. “Why, you—”

But the scary man was suddenly tackled to the ground by someone else before he could finish his sentence. It was hard to see, but Rean could tell who it was. 

“Dad!” he cried out in relief; tears rolled down his cheeks as he smiled. They were definitely safe now.

“LET GO OF MY BOY!” Yet another man (with orange hair) appeared and tackled the scary man who was holding the boy. 

Rean couldn’t catch many of the details of what was happening because they seemed to be moving so fast and it was dark. He just knew that, in no time, his dad and the man who saved the boy had beaten up the scary men. 

Rean cheered and ran toward his dad, letting himself be picked up by protective arms. He was so happy his dad had won. 

“There, there, Rean. You’re safe now. I’ll protect you.”

“Yeah! I knew I could count on you!” he chirped, feeling like he was about to cry from relief. This was his hero. He wanted to be like his dad. 

Suddenly, all the lights in the city were turned back on. Rean could see a couple of police officers arrive and restrain the kidnappers. He could also see his mom and an orange-haired girl approach them. 

“MY CUTE LITTLE CHERUB, ARE YOU OKAY!?” the man cried as he inspected the boy for any injuries before crushing him with a bear hug. 

“Da—”

The orange-haired girl walked up to them and poked the man; a bead of sweat was dripping from her temple. “Dad, you’re crushing him.” 

“Big sis!” The moment the man’s arms loosened, the boy practically threw himself into the arms of the girl. “We found you—!”

“Silly little brother,” she sniffed, hugging him back with relief washing over her features. “You were the one lost, not me.”

Turning his attention away from the orange-haired family, Rean jumped out of his dad’s arms and ran toward his mom. “Mom!” He hugged her as she knelt down to wrap her comforting arms around him. “I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to let go!”

“It’s okay, Rean. I should’ve been more careful, knowing how hectic the city can be. Perhaps, if your father does become Chancellor, I’ll tell him to widen the sidewalks or something,” his mom chuckled. “While I’m at it, I’ll tell him to upgrade the police.” She looked up, flatly looking at the embarrassed uniformed men holding the kidnappers. “Seriously, how can you get lost in the city you work in? The only place you seemed to know was Racetrack Plaza..."

In his head, Rean imagined a world where walking traffic was extinct and the police looked like robots. “He can do that?”

“I can?” his dad repeated in confusion and in amusement. 

“If he can’t, then I certainly will,” she huffed, still glaring at the policeman. “But until then…” His mom leaned forward to press a gentle kiss against Rean’s forehead, eyes twinkling with affection. “I’ll make sure not to let you go again.”

---

“Get up!”

Rean’s eyes snapped open in alarm, confused about why an unfamiliar voice was shouting at him. Through his bleary vision, he saw a mix of white and blue before the blankets were abruptly torn away from his body and a harsh chill reverberated through his skin. Before he could even tell what was happening, a hand dug into his shoulders and dragged him off the bed.

“What the—” He noticed that the person holding onto him was dressed as a provincial army soldier. “Why are you…”

“We are conducting a precautionary search, following the investigation of Machias Regnitz’s unlawful entry into Aurochs’ fort.” Rean’s head swam as he was roughly pushed outside the room. “So we would appreciate it if we had no disturbances.”

The door slammed, leaving a very confused Rean to lean on the railings and get his thoughts together.

That all happened so fast that he didn’t know how to react, his mind still stuck on the statement of Machias’ supposed trespassing into Auroch’s Fort. His eyebrows furrowed as he took a seat on the stairs, trying to make sense of it all through his pounding headache. 

Machias had no reason to intrude that fort, right? And what about Laura and Fie? What were they doing? He’d only been asleep for a few hours, so how could everything go wrong so fast?

Looking up at the stern provincial army men guarding his hotel room, Rean sighed. It didn’t seem like they were willing to give him answers. He guessed he would have to conduct his own investigation. But first…

“My sword and ARCUS are in that room and I need it for my field study.” He almost cringed at how his voice croaked. “Can I at least get it?”

One of the guards shrugged with great exaggeration, looking like Rean’s request was the equivalent of running a 100 selge marathon, before he disappeared into the room. A few seconds later, he reemerged and not-so-gently tossed the items on the ground in front of Rean. 

“Thank you.”

One hand picked up his belongings while his other hand tightly gripped the railing, trying to carry most of his weight as he stumbled down the stairs. Miraculously, he reached the last step without feeling as dizzy as before. He ignored the worried look that the receptionist was giving him as he tried to recompose himself. 

After taking two deep breaths, his ARCUS suddenly rang. Immediately, he picked up and heard Laura’s voice.

“Rean, are you okay? ” 

“I’m good. I just got kicked out of the room,” he said as he exited the hotel. Adjusting to the intense light outside, he noticed that there were a lot of Provincial Army Soldiers standing around in the area. “They said Machias was under investigation for trespassing into Aurochs’ Fort.”

“They’re referencing an incident that I saw yesterday before I returned to the hotel. Apparently a flying, white object headed there, but I suspect they’re using it as an excuse to arrest him.”

A flying, white object? Rean tried his hardest to not think about Millium and Airgetlam. “An excuse? Why would they want to arrest…” He frowned, furrowing his eyebrows as the pieces started to come together in his muddled mind. “Oh... Do you think they’re using him as a hostage because his father is the Imperial Governor and key figure of the Reformist Faction?”

“We can’t think of any other reasons. Why else would they not arrest us? Or keep Jusis with them? ” said Fie’s voice through the speaker. 

This wasn’t good. They didn’t have many options. With Jusis out of the picture, he thought about possibly calling Rufus for help. However, the Ironblood was currently in the capital, probably busy making contact with his dad among other things. He couldn’t just bother him with this. 

Rean bit his lip. The only option they had left would be to take it upon themselves to fix this situation. “I think we should break him out by ourselves.”

“We already have a plan.”

He raised his eyebrow in confusion. That was… fast. Since Laura and Fie were by themselves, he found it difficult to believe they could easily reach an agreement about how to deal with the situation. 

“Toval, a bracer I know back in Legram, gave us keys to access the Underground Waterway. There are high chances that it is connected to the guardhouse that Machias is locked up in,” Laura spoke up again. 

A bracer? That was unusual, but not unwelcome. 

“Okay, I’m coming with you,” he announced, walking to Station Street. If he remembered correctly, he had seen the entrance to the waterway somewhere around there. 

“No. You need to rest.”

“I’m feeling better, so I’m going.” He refused to sit back and do nothing while they were risking their well-being to save Machias. 

“Rean—”

“If we don’t let him join us, he’ll probably come here by himself, ” Fie’s voice cut in, reading his mind. “ ‘sides, we could use a third member. The situation’s too dire for us to risk busting our combat links again.”

“Please, Laura.”

After a long period of silence, Rean heard a long, defeated sigh from his ARCUS. 

“Okay then.”

...

The moment he arrived, Laura immediately placed her hand on his forehead, checking his temperature. However, she must’ve underestimated her own strength because she accidentally ended up smacking him.

“Ah! Sorry!” she apologetically exclaimed, applying less pressure.

“It’s fine,” he chuckled. Sure, the impact slightly worsened his headache but, at the same time, he also felt less drowsy.

“Heh.” Fie made absolutely no effort to hide her amusement of Laura’s mistake, causing her to receive an embarrassed glare from her rival. 

Seeing that Laura was not making an effort to argue with his presence here, Rean assumed that his temperature must’ve been better than before. That was good, since now he only had to keep up the act of feeling okay. 

Such a task was almost impossible.

Rean realized very quickly that it was hard to fight when his entire body seemed like it was made out of lead. Likewise, constantly moving was like carryng the weight of the sky on his shoulders and he wondered if he would collapse with every step. The only thing that felt good was breathing, but he often felt like he couldn’t breathe enough.

Feeling so hot and breathless… almost reminded him of that time

It also didn’t help that the sound of every bullet releasing from Fie’s gunblades rang through his head, bouncing annoyingly against the walls of his skull and making him feel nauseous. 

Oh well… his sheer willpower of needing to save Machias was enough to prevent his body from giving up.

At least, Laura and Fie were in silent agreement to do most of the close combat while no one argued with why Rean mainly used arts. 

...

He lost track of how many monsters they killed and how many steps they took before they suddenly found Jusis in the waterways.

There was a relieved smile on his face as he awkwardly stumbled toward his classmate, asking, “Jusis! Are you okay?”

“I should be asking you that,” Jusis sighed, voice flat as he crossed his arms out of annoyance. “You’re obviously not doing well. Only idiots look at the definition of ‘good health’ and think it means running a fever.”

“Took the words right out of my mouth,” Fie agreed, twirling her gunblades around with her fingers.

Crystal blue eyes snapped toward the girls. “You two are fools too.” His eyes narrowed upon seeing their confusion. “Laura, I understand that fighting while sick might sound like a good challenge or whatever, but Rean c̶l̸e̵a̵r̵l̵y̴ ̶n̵e̷e̵d̸s̵ ̷r̷e̷s̴t̶.”

Rean furrowed his eyebrows in confusion. His ears seemed to have missed part of what Jusis said.

“I am aware. Though, now that you mention it, intentionally fighting with an ailment does sound like an interesting training routine,” Laura thoughtfully replied before throwing Rean a worried glance. “I must admit, however, while my decision to let him join us wasn’t the best idea, it also wasn’t the worst.”

“Oh?”

Fie nodded. “Yep. It was either this or he probably would have crawled to this waterway by himself and put himself in more danger.”

“You cannot be serious.” Quietly cursing to himself about why he was acquainted with such an idiot, Jusis locked his eyes with Rean’s. “Would you actually?”

“Yeah.” Perhaps the fever was the reason why his answer was unfiltered and shameless. Seeing Jusis roll his eyes, Rean weakly chuckled and scratched his cheek out of embarrassment. “Sorry.”

Jusis pinched the bridge of his nose as if he was having a headache. “Whatever. Let’s just go and find the other clown to add to our circus.”

...

Rean was almost confused about why they stopped moving. Focusing on his vision, he looked ahead to see a giant, metallic door blocking their way. He glanced to his side, seeing his classmates talk. He almost squinted at them, wondering why his mind couldn’t grasp onto any of their words. Apparently his ears didn’t want to listen. 

Eventually, they turned to look at him. Their eyes showed that they were asking for affirmation, presumably for a plan they made to get through this door. 

He nodded. Even though he had no idea what their plan was, he had confidence in them. Well, unless that plan involved him, then he wasn’t too sure. 

To his relief, they all turned their heads to the door as Fie walked up and fiddled with it. From his perspective, he couldn’t see anything she was doing because her body was blocking the way. The moment she stepped away, he finally saw her handiwork.

There was an explosive on that door. 

He didn’t know if it was because he had those dreams recently or because he was running a fever, but seeing that sent chills up his spine.

Oh well, Machias was the priority here; his feelings didn’t ma—

CLICK

His heart raced. That noise was eerily clear to his tired ears, replacing every sound he could hear with white noise. Time seemed to slow as his vision darkened, and something appeared right in front of him.

A woman. With black hair. Lilac eyes.

Warm smile.

And covered in blood.

 

No. That wasn't possible— 

 

BOOOOOOOO—  

   .̸̛̪̦͖̘̜͔̯́̓̅͐͐̄̏͊̿̐͘̚̚͜͠   .̸̢̠͓̭̓̌͝   .̴̧̣͍̩͊͗͌̓̐̆̒̈́̚̕   .̶͎͌̀̄͆   .̵̢̰͈̱̩͓͑ ̴̜͚̜̈́͗̍̈́̈̃͜͝   .̸͙̉ ̶̢̎   .̷̮̕ ̷͇͔͈̫̣̂̍͗̎   .̶̟̼̏ ̸̧̦̋   .̴ ̴ .̶̧̡̤̫̻͓̜̗̪̠̤̭̱̤̟͖̇̿̽̈͂̏͛͛̿̕̚͝   .̷͙̮̗̟̥̓͒̈́̄́̈́̍̄̌̐̾̓̾̐̓̄̈́̇̐͋̉̈͆͘̚ͅ   .̷̮̕ ̷͇͔͈̫̣̂̍͗̎   .̴̸̢̡̧̦̣͔̗͎̲̣͈̥͙͉̱̲̙̥͓͖̘͍̤̦͊̋   

— OOOOOOOOOM

 

Fire. Fire. There was fire everywhere.

His head hurt. His skin was throbbing and pulsing from the feeling of intense heat. The flames were too strong. Too big. They were burning him. Tormenting him. Torturing him—

There was… so much raw pain attacking his body that he didn’t know if he was screaming or crying. Didn't even know if his lungs were working.

How did… he get here? Why did… everything hurt so bad?

“Rean!” 

A familiar presence neared him and he felt himself be picked up by comforting arms. 

Except the arms weren’t comforting at all. The touch scorched him and he wanted to squirm away from the pain. 

“Mo— ...m..?” He seemed to have finally found part of his voice as he peeked his eyes open, and... 

He was in a burning hell. The once lively walls full of memories were charred black with the merciless flames spiraling around them. Blood seeped into the ground and nearby he saw the bad man from before, pinned to the floor by debris. The sky reflected the crimson colors of the fires and blood, or perhaps Rean’s vision was just tinged red with fear.

He closed his eyes before he could take in his mom’s appearance, painfully writhing in her arms. “It hurts—!”

“It’s okay, Rean. We’ll be okay.” Her voice was soothing despite how they were frantically running around in the house, trying to find an exit but only ending up being blockaded by flames. “We’ll be okay…”

Okay— 

         .̴̡̢̝͙͚̳͔̥͈̼̮͛͌̇͋̔̓̊̏̄̎̏̔͋̕͜͠   .̷̡̦͕̟͇͈̼̟̮̼͓̹̩̗͍̭̥̙͇͙̿͜͝ͅ   .̴̱̩̭̊͌͆̊̉̂͘   .̴̡̢̝͙͚̳͔̥͈̼̮͛͌̇͋̔̓̊̏̄̎̏̔͋̕͜͠    .̴̢̡̦̣͔̗͎̲̣͈̥͙͉̱̲̙̥͓͖̘͍̤͊    ̶̧̨̝̀̎͛̇̚͜    ̴͕̩̏̒͠   .̷̢̡̢̖̻̯͚͆̌̉͛̒̍̚͠   .̷̱͂̈́͌̂́̑̉̍̌͐̓̽̅̒͝͝   .̶̜̰̝̺͍̰̘̭͌̌̔̃̕͝   .̶̺̭̦͓͕͔̌̓͌̾ͅ       

“—okay, Rean. Just take deep breaths…” 

That wasn’t his mom’s voice. 

He squinted at the image in front of him. The image of his burning home was slightly fading as he focused on that voice. Eventually, the visage of a boy with blonde hair and blue eyes was appearing in his bleary vision.

“...Jusis..?”

What was he doing here? What was happening?

“Yes, it’s me. Do you know where you are?” Jusis’ voice was much softer than he had ever heard before.

“I…” He was home. His home was on fire. They were in danger. He could still feel the intense heat. The burns. The doom. The pain.

They were going to die— 

“Deep breaths, Rean.”

And he tried— He really tried— But all the fire was burning up all the oxygen— He couldn’t— 

“Breathe with me. Look.”

He looked. And he saw Jusis breathing normally. As if there was air to breathe.

So he copied the movements, taking a deep breath—

   ̷͇͔͈̫̣̂̍͗̎    ̷͊͜  —BAM—  ̴͕̩̏̒͠   .̵̢̰͈̱̩͓͑   

And a shockwave erupted through his body, freezing him up in fear once again… because while there may be air, the bad people were still here. And they were going to shoot—

   ̴̢̛͈̂̀̑    ̶̧̨̝̀̎͛̇̚͜    ̴͕̩̏̒͠ —BAM̵̘̈́̍̏̋ ̷͓̆BAM— ̷͇͔͈̫̣̂̍͗̎   .̶̟̼̏ ̸̧̦̋   .̴ ̴  

“Regnitz, Fie—Cease—!”

 

—And shoot—!

     .̴̢͝   .̸̦͖̦̙̫̜̪̒̇̆̒    ̵̯̾ BA̷̧͕̩͉͇̳̗̯̲̜̋̃̃̋̑͂͌͆̀̉̓̑͐̚͝M BAM̴̧̧̛̛̖̙̦̺̭͈̺̘͔͓̦̮͕͗̿̍̔͌̏̋ͅ B̵̨̡̳͕̬͎̝̖̺̲̞̝̰̜͔̞̹̺͚͜͠AM— ̶̧̨̝̀̎͛̇̚͜    ̴͕̩̏̒͠   .̸̧͇̑̚      

“—can't use—bullets!”

 

—Until they were dead—!  

 

     BAM BAM     

“—R̶e̴a̸n̷—!”

 

—Until she was dead...

 

      .̷͙̮̗̟̥̓͒̈́̄́̈́̍̄̌̐̾̓̾̐̓̄̈́̇̐͋̉̈͆͘̚ͅ    .̷̮̕ ̷͇͔͈̫̣̂̍͗̎   .̴̸̢̡̧̦̣͔̗͎̲̣͈̥͙͉̱̲̙̥͓͖̘͍̤̦͊̋  .̵̢̰͈̱̩͓͑ ̴̜͚̜̈́͗̍̈́̈̃͜͝  .̸͙̉ ̶̢̎ .̶̟̼̏ ̸̧̦̋—̷̢̨̧̛̦̖̻̫̲̪͓͉͕̺̰͚̞̝̦̼̪̘̯̝̗̫͖͚̒̿̈̑́́̊́̇̋͝BAM̵̢̨͔̝̟̫̯̲͎̐̇͆̉͋͂͂̃̌̌͋̂͝͠͝— .̴ ̴ .̶̧̡̤̫̻͓̜̗̪̠̤̭̱̤̟͖̇̿̽̈͂̏͛͛̿̕̚͝  .̷̮̕ ̷͇͔͈̫̣̂̍͗̎  .̴̸̧̧̧̜̥͈̻͓͇͚̯̣̠̯͕̞̹̦̅̒̒͆͗́͒͐̒̎̍̌͗̈̇̌̿̓̋͜͜͝͠    .̴̡̢̝͙͚̳͔̥͈̼̮͛͌̇͋̔̓̊̏̄̎̏̔͋̕͜͠    .̷̡̦͕̟͇͈̼̟̮̼͓̹̩̗͍̭̥̙͇͙̿͜͝ͅ      

 

—THUD—

 

Vibrations rippled in the arms that were carrying him before Rean was abruptly dropped to the ground. 

“Mom!” he cried out, seeing her stumble.

“I’m fine!” His mom was smiling despite how he took notice of the hole in her shoulder and the blood that dripped from it. She reached her hand out and grabbed his, remaining undeterred as she stood up and guided her son to escape to this nightmare. “Don’t worry. We’ll be safe soon.”

Rean could barely believe that. They were trapped in their burning house and they were being hunted down by terrible people for no reason. 

“Dad will come and protect us.”

That was true. He always would. Rean knew this. That was why he wasn’t completely lost to fear. 

And… out of some miracle, the wall next to them suddenly crumbled, creating a massive hole while the structure of the house still didn’t collapse onto them. The only thing that his mind could process was that they could escape all the fire and finally breathe. 

He let go of her hand.

With no resistance from her. 

And jumped through the hole in the wall. His lungs greedily swallowed as much fresh air as he could. Eventually, when he was somewhat satisfied, he looked back. 

Only to hear more gunshots before he could process what he saw. 

His mom had fallen to the ground once again, leg caught on the burning material of what used to be the wall. He rushed to her side but then— 

Her agonizing scream… Goddess, why was she screaming like that? Why did it painfully ring through his ears and seize his heart in a vice grip? Why did he feel like he was the one dying?

 

Because she was dying. And he was next.

 

Her scream deafened the continuing gunshots until another explosion caused all sound to cease.

Eventually, Rean could hear things again and all he heard was the cackling of fire. His mom’s face was contorted in anguish, jaw painfully clenched as tears threatened to fall from her eyes. However, she was obviously trying to focus on him when her mouth wobbled to slowly form what was supposed to be a reassuring smile. 

Still, that smile was effective. It made him forget that the house was being turned to ashes and that there were dangerous people trying to kill them. 

“Sweetie… you have to go…” her voice croaked, yet she still managed to sound gentle.

Rean didn’t understand her words. “Okay, let’s go.” He tugged on her hand, but her body didn’t move. “Mom…”

She shook her head, tears now cascading down her cheeks. “I can’t go with you.”

...That didn’t make sense. 

“But you said you’d always be with me,” he stubbornly argued as he desperately tried to use all his strength to move his mom. But he couldn’t. His arms hurt. He was too weak. “Come on! Let’s go!”

“No. You have to go… live, Rean.” Her arm wobbled as she struggled to push her body up, using her other arm to reach out and comfortingly pat his head with scarlet stained fingers. “I’ll still be with you… Just… You need to go. Okay?”

Rean had never seen death before. He only knew that she was in intense pain. He didn’t know that she would be gone forever.

Rean also had no reason to doubt his mom’s words. She had never lied to him; at least, he had never caught one of her lies before. So he believed that she would still be with him and moved away. Even though every part of his mind and heart were screaming to him about how there was something wrong with her words, he turned. 

And took a step toward where the sun was peeking out from the horizon, away from all the burning carnage.

 

Toward the new dawn. To survive. To live.

 

He trusted her.  

But his trust in her words was not enough to let her wish come true. 

Because it seemed like… he was never meant to live.

It seemed like… Rean Osborne was destined to die this day. 

 

His ears caught the sound of another explosion and suddenly he was pinned to the ground; a searing burn was engulfing his chest in pain. 

The pain was long and torturous and he didn’t know how long he’d been destroying his voice. All he knew was that he couldn’t see anything anymore, not even his mom. He couldn’t hear his mom trying to soothe him with her voice. He couldn’t feel his mom cradle him. 

There was nothing pleasant.

Only the pain and the heat.

Until his toes and fingers become numb…

...until that numbness spread to his arms and legs…

..until it claimed his heart. 

And… all of a sudden… there was no more pain. No more heat.

Only cold.

 

Because there was no more life. 

 

---

---

 

The explosive had been set off, and the metal doors went down. 

Laura sighed, stepping forward. “Okay, then, let’s—” She didn’t finish her sentence as the sound of a sharp intake of breath pierced through her ears. She looked back at Rean to see him kneeling down, hand tightly clutching his chest that seized for every breath he took. 

Jusis, who was nearest to the boy, rushed to his side and tried to figure out what the problem was. “Rean!” 

He made no response that could indicate that he heard him. Instead, he continued to crumple to the ground  (and would have fallen if Jusis didn’t hold him) while his eyes were squeezed shut; whimpers and gasps were escaping his throat that sounded like he’d forgotten how to breathe.

“What’s wrong!?” Even though she wanted to move, her muscles stayed still, uncertain of what to do.

It was… strange to see Rean so vulnerable. She’d seen a glimpse of that fragility last night, but it was really hard to see someone she saw as strong and confident fall down and be tormented from something that wasn’t a powerful opponent—in a physical sense. It would be like witnessing her father collapse; she would have no idea what to do other than desire to beat the cause of said collapse like it was an enemy.

She didn't like to see this, but whatever this was… it seemed like she couldn’t just cut it down with her sword. 

...She was ashamed that she wasn’t as well-versed with delicate matters as she was with fighting. This issue would have to be left in more capable hands.

“I think he’s having some kind of panic attack,” Fie’s voice was as flat as ever, but her face revealed concern and uneasiness. She may have known how to detect the signs, but she didn’t know how to respond.

Jusis clicked his tongue before he raised his eyes to meet theirs. “I’ll handle this. You two, get Regnitz now!”

They didn’t argue as they immediately turned on their heels and rushed through the opening of where the metal doors used to be. They didn’t stop until they eventually found an area full of holding cells.

“Machias!” Laura called out, hoping the boy would make a noise so they could find him faster. 

“Wha— What are you guys doing here!?” Machias voice responded, and they could see two hands grip around iron bars a few cells away. 

“No time to explain,” she said as she raised her greatsword and cut through the lock. Wasting no time, she kicked the cell door open and grabbed Machias’ wrist.

“Here,” Fie piped up as she tossed a shotgun to his arms. She must’ve found it while they were searching for him. 

He caught the gun with a little difficulty before he warily glanced at them. “Is it just you two?’

“No, Rean and Ju—”

“HALT!”

A couple of provincial army soldiers ran from the opposite side of the hall and raised their guns at them.

Laura raised her sword immediately, clicking her tongue. They didn’t have time for this. She was worried about Rean and if they needed to get him to a safe place right away. “I’m afraid that you can’t stop us.”

“Let’s just get this over with,” Fie sighed as she fired the first shot, starting the battle.

Each of the girls targeted separate targets while Machias gave them back up. It turned out that the provincial army soldiers were no match for their impatient strength and were quickly defeated. 

The only problem was that there were reinforcements, led by the irritating provincial army officer who had arrested Machias.

“Let’s go!” Laura commanded, deciding that retreating would be the better option.

“Oh, no you don’t!” angrily shouted the provincial army officer as he watched their fleeting figures escape to the Underground Waterway. “Quick! Release the beasts! Those pesky sneaks can serve as test subjects for them!”

Hearing those words echo from the walls, Machias exclaimed in shock, “Beasts!? Since when did provincial armies employ monsters!?”

“They’re probably trained. Though usually only jaeger corps use them,” Fie answered. Promptly, they heard a loud howl reverberate through the air, followed by quick, heavy footsteps.

“I imagine the public doesn’t like to see them, which is why neither the imperial or provincial armies show them off.” In the distance, Laura saw a spot of pale yellow. “Jusis!” she shouted as she glanced back and saw two giant armored dogs chasing them. “We need to go!”

“Rean still hasn’t calmed down!” She heard him shout back as they neared their friends’ location. As the beasts roared again, loud enough to make the walls shake, Jusis exclaimed in irritation, “Where in the goddess’ name did those beasts come from!?”

“They’re your family’s pets!” Machias helpfully explained.

“No one’s ever told me about—”

“Not now!” Laura ended their argument as she took in Rean’s appearance. Beads of sweat were rolling down his skin, breathing was still unstable and eyes were unseeing. Somehow, he seemed somewhat better than before. “I’ll carry him—”

“Too late,” Fie said as one of the beasts, colored blue, jumped past them, circling around them with the other beast, colored red, who had caught up. “We’re surrounded.”

Laura stressfully grit her teeth as she turned and pointed her sword at the blue-furred beast. This wasn’t good at all. These two monsters looked powerful and they had a man down. It also didn’t help that someone would need to stay by Rean to make sure his condition didn’t worsen. 

Surrounded by two big monsters.

Only three people could fight.

And they had to fight while protecting.

This was a severe disadvantage.

Out of the corner of her eye, the red beast behind her stepped forward. Promptly, Fie and Machias shot at it, momentarily making it dodge away. However, this encouraged the beast that Laura was facing to leap toward Machias. Quickly, Laura guarded him, watching large, sharp claws dig at her blade. She had to concentrate all of her strength for a singular moment to throw the monster off her greatsword. 

More gunshots and frightening roars pierced through the air as the battle devolved into a chaotic mess; the group didn’t know how to efficiently and coordinately fight off these two monsters without getting Rean and Jusis hurt. 

And like that wasn’t enough…

“Regnitz, Fie! Cease your gunfire!”  Jusis’ authoritative voice boomed through the air, and all their heads momentarily turned to him while they absorbed the sight of Rean shaking with much greater intensity, hands clawing into his hair as pained whimpers bubbled from his throat. “You can’t use bullets! The sound’s making Rean’s condition worse!”

And now the situation seemed unwinnable. 

Because now Machias couldn’t use his weapon and Fie’s strength was reduced. 

As if to mock them, the red monster pounced on Fie, pinning her to the ground as she could only use the sharp edge of her gunblades to defend herself. Laura rushed forward and swung her sword at the monster, successfully slashing the skin near its neck before it jumped away, resuming its previous behavior of circling around them like predators hunting prey. 

Unfortunately, her lack of foresight gave the blue beast an opening to attack; it ran forward to swipe its claw at Jusis. An annoyed look crossed the noble’s face as the dangerous claws neared his face, only to be saved by a last second Adamantine Shield art that was casted on him, causing the monster’s paw to bounce off.

Again, the monster leaped back, copying its companion’s movements to look for an opening.

“I don’t need your help,” Jusis flatly looked at Machias.

“Shaddap! Can I get a 'thank you' for once!? We’re in a life and death situation right now!”

Despite that momentary reprieve, Laura could not ignore how they were utterly overwhelmed. This first attack was just the monsters testing their strength. Their next assault was sure to be more relentless and merciless. 

They couldn’t win—

Laura obliterated that thought immediately. She had two goals in life: The first was to surpass her father’s strength, and the second was to be a protector. If she gave up now, she would be disgracing and betraying everything she stood for. 

There was no time to be thinking about losing. 

Now then… She took a deep breath as her mind went into overdrive.

How could they win and protect Rean at the same time?

First things first, they had to be in their strongest formation. Normally, Laura would like to be linked up to Jusis because they had a strong combat link, but she was very aware of a much, much better combination. 

“Fie! Link with me!” Laura commanded, locking her determined eyes with Fie’s. The ex-jaeger seemed caught off guard by the suggestion, but quickly complied; a strong sound of a click from the unity of their combat links resounded through their ears. 

They both knew very much how powerful of a duo they could be. They were both strong in their own rights, not to mention their fighting styles perfectly complemented each other. Fie was amazing with catching the opponent off guard and creating openings. If Laura could follow up on her movements, she could deal much heavier, critical blows. Fighting with each other would be a beautiful, ruthless dance where Fie would never give the opponent a chance to attack while Laura used her strength to completely destroy the opponent’s defenses until the battle was over. 

Fast and strong. Evasive and defensive. Unrelenting until they won. Invincible.

That was their potential.

This whole time, however, Laura was just so maddened with how Fie could be so strong and skilled but be so lazy and uncaring. Fighting and strengthening herself were Laura’s life and it was beyond her comprehension how someone could spit at all the hard work in becoming stronger just by existing.

Fie’s existence offended her way of life. Frustrated her beyond words, especially when Laura lost to said person.

It was immature of her to think this way, she knew. And she knew that she may never, ever understand Fie. And Fie may never understand her.

But now, she knew that was fine. It didn’t even matter right now.

Watching Fie handicap herself in this fight for Rean’s sake, Laura knew that their conflicting views on life and the world didn’t matter. What mattered was that Fie was a person who wanted to keep her classmates safe. Fie wanted to protect her classmates, like Laura.

What mattered was that, right now, they both had someone they needed to protect.

What mattered was that, right now, they could combine their strengths and win a seemingly hopeless fight. 

They couldn't afford to fail again. Their friends were counting on them.

At the sound of their ARCUS devices being linked up, the red beast used that as a cue to lunge toward Machias, who had switched places with Jusis. Laura moved immediately in front of him, blocking the attack while Fie wasted no time to rush in, momentarily stunning the monster with the slashes of her gunblades. Immediately following up, Laura performed a powerful swing of her greatsword, dealing a critical blow and knocking the beast back into the wall. 

…

That happened so fast, everyone almost blinked owlishly at how well that worked out. 

However, the blue beast immediately let out a vengeful cry and attacked Laura with more power. Again, she raised her greatsword to protect herself and, while all the monster’s attention was on her, Fie used this opportunity to sneak closer and deliver a critical blow to its stomach. The monster howled in pain, and once again, Laura followed up with another attack, seamlessly connecting each of their strikes together.

The tides of the battle were turning in their favor. All because of a connected link they had neglected since school started. 

Unfortunately, these beasts had teamwork that outmatched theirs (not to mention, Fie was restricted in what she could do), so it was no surprise when Laura sometimes failed to cover Fie from the other beast or when Fie sometimes failed to draw the other beast’s attention from Laura.

Fortunately, they had two things in their favor.

The first was that they were both skilled, powerful, and—most of all—they knew how to adapt to their opponent’s fighting styles. Every time Fie was caught off guard and was launched back to Laura, the swordswoman raised her sword like a shield; when Fie’s boots touched the surface of blade, Laura would push her sword so that the ex-jaeger would bounce back to the monsters and resume their assault. Likewise, everytime Laura was overwhelmed by the onslaught of both of them monsters, Fie would sneak up on them and deal more damage than what they could inflict on Laura. 

They wouldn't stop. They would be unhindered by every hit they took, and used the opportunity to deal double the pain, their combat link growing stronger and more in sync with every attack.

The second was that they were not alone. Every scratch and bruise they sustained was relieved by a quick tearal as their defenses were bolstered. Every stab and slash they inflicted was enhanced and oftentimes followed up by a devastating mirage art. 

Laura briefly nodded to Jusis, appreciating his support, as her blade ran through the monster’s skin, creating yet another huge gash on its body. 

 

Truly, when they all worked together, they were invincible.

And when they were invincible... 

(Laura took a glance at where Machias was trying to calm Rean down.)

...They could be strong enough to protect their friends. 

 

That was all that mattered.

 

---

---

 

There was a time when he only knew that the laws of his universe were built on three fundamental truths…

.̸.̸.̷f̴i̷r̶e̶ ̴a̸l̸w̸a̷y̸s̶ ̷c̵o̴m̸f̶o̷r̴t̴e̵d̴ ̵h̵i̸m̷…̶

.̸.̴.̷d̸a̵d̷ ̷a̵l̶w̶a̶y̵s̵ ̵p̶r̸o̴t̷e̵c̸t̷e̴d̷ ̵h̸i̷m̸…̸

.̸.̶.̶a̶n̶d̸ ̵m̶o̷m̵ ̴w̴a̸s̶ ̶a̷l̷w̶a̵y̴s̷ ̸t̴h̴e̵r̶e̸ ̴f̵o̴r̸ ̸h̶i̴m̵.̶

*knock* *thud* … *knock* *thud* *knock* *knock* … *knock* *thud* *thud* … *knock* *thud* … *thud* *knock* *thud* *thud* … *knock* *knock* *knock*

Always .

…

But on this day, he gained another absolute truth that would twist his world:

 

“Always is not forever.”

 

---

---

 

Really, Machias had been having an awful time in this city. Being stuck in a city full of stuck-up nobles, having to deal with Albarea, getting kidnapped, getting arrested, and getting chased by monster dogs just put him in a horrendous mood. However, upon seeing Rean’s state, Machias did not even argue with the silent meaning behind Albarea's steel gaze: Switch with me.

It only made sense. Machias couldn't even use his weapon without making Rean spiral further into his panic. Plus, Machias once read about situations like these and how to handle them after his cousin died, so he was most suited for this role.

However, Machias Regnitz—academically the second best student in the class who loved logic puzzles and loved beating political arguments with logic—did not care about sense at the moment. He just wanted to help, no matter how sensible or senseless it was.

And help he did. Because this seemed like a second chance. To help save someone when he had once failed before. Plus, he had to admit, Rean was a friend. He couldn’t just not help a friend who looked to be in so much pain. Machias may be hot-headed and rude, but he wasn’t heartless. 

"He's reexperiencing a flashback. Based on what he muttered, I assume he's remembering the time when jaegers attacked his first home," Alabarea quickly explained before they switched places and he left to join the fight.

Lime green eyes anxiously took in the sight before him as he kneeled down in front of the boy. 

Sweating. Shaking. Shortness of breath. Chest pain too, judging by the hand digging into the skin of his chest.

Signs of panic attack. 

“Rean, can you hear me?” Machias said, trying to sound as soft as possible, as he waved his hands in front of those dull eyes. “Is there any way I can help you?”

No response other than the continuing pained noises and sharp gasps.

Okay, so Rean couldn’t hear him. Or see him. That wasn’t good because Machias needed him to be distracted from whatever anxiety was eating at him by focusing on at least one of the five senses. They had less options with two senses blocked off. Though, given how the only sights and sounds around them were a deathmatch between their classmates and the monsters, maybe that was for the better. 

Smell? No, the only strong scent around here was the sewage, and Rean was undoubtedly used to the smell since he’d been exploring the area. Likewise, taste wasn’t an option because it wasn’t like someone here was carrying around strong flavored candy or food or something. 

Touch then… 

Machias hoped that Rean wouldn’t have a violent reaction to this.

Slowly and gently, he reached his fingers to brush against Rean’s knuckles. Immediately, Rean opened his hand, fingers wrapping around Machias’ in a death grip.

“Rean, can you tell me what you feel?” Machias tried to ignore the pain coming from their linked hands. 

“—not… going—”

He would take that as a no. The next thing he could think of was possibly exposing Rean to something hot or cold, but then he remembered Rean’s breakdown at the schoolhouse. The sight of the raven-haired boy crumbling to the floor after using a fire art and repeatedly muttering about how cold it was had been plaguing him since it happened. Machias would sure as hell make sure that didn’t happen again. 

So then, what could he do? It seemed like all of his senses were mostly compromised, and Machias didn’t want to try something that accidentally made it worse. 

Crap, he couldn't think—Crap, first he needed to remain calm. It would be impossible for a panicking person to calm down a panicking person.

Curse his hot-headed nature. It was nearly impossible for him to keep his calm in stressful, unpredictable situations that weren't academic tests.

Crap crap crap—

 

Wait. 

 

The schoolhouse. Right. Back at the schoolhouse, after his breakdown, Rean had done something strange with his hands. The memory of it was so clear because it had terrified him, but he remembered Rean knocking against the ground with his hand to calm himself down. 

And it wasn’t regular knocking either. There was some strange pattern to it as opposed to rapid tapping that Machias would normally expect from someone who was panicking. 

Could that help? Could it work this time, too?

Machias wrecked his brain to remember the pattern. Thankfully, his memory was incredibly good, often helping him with remembering school related information and with remembering every noble he had a grudge against. 

Slowly, he flipped their joined hands so Rean’s knuckles were facing the floor.

If he remembered correctly, it was something like...

*knock* *thud* *thud* … *knock* *thud* … *thud* *knock* *thud* *thud* … *knock* *knock* *knock* … *knock* *thud* … *knock* *thud* *knock* *knock* 

Uncertain, he kept his eyes trained on any potential reactions from Rean. For now all he saw were black eyebrows furrowing, as if confused. 

He continued this motion a few times until lilac eyes were suddenly locked onto his, glaring yet still unseeing. Actually, Machias could swear the color of those eyes were some shade of red, but that was impossible— 

“ Lies. ”

A chill shot up his spine. He had never heard Rean sound so… dangerous . Honestly, he was a little frightened and he wondered if it was okay to continue this strange grounding technique. Though, looking closely, Rean’s breathing seemed to have somewhat calmed...

That meant it was working.

… *knock* *thud* *thud* … *knock* *thud* … *thud* *knock* *thud* *thud* … *knock* *knock* *knock* … *knock* *thud* … *knock* *thud* *knock* *knock* …

“ Lies! ” Those lilac-red eyes shined from the film of tears covering it.

Machias continued knocking the pattern out with their hands, a nervous bead of sweat was rolling down his temple. He could only hope to Aidios that he was doing the right thing. 

“ You’re not here, ” Rean hissed as his hand left his chest and reached to grab Machias’ collar. “ You’re not here! ”

“I am here,” Machias' voice was losing the calm edge to it, unflinchingly meeting Rean’s intense glare. He was pretty sure arguing with someone having a panic attack was not part of the guide for dealing with panic attacks, but he couldn’t just stop being a hot-headed, impulsive teenager over one night, especially when someone was denying the obvious facts. “Can you hear me talking to you? Can you feel my hand in your hand? I’m here !” 

Lilac-red eyes widened. Speechless again.

Good, that meant that Rean could hear. He could listen to him now. 

Machias tried to calm his voice once he saw Rean flinch. Adding one more thing, he softly asked, “I’m here. But where are you?”

Hopefully that question would encourage the boy to finally focus on their surroundings and be brought back to the present.

" I… "

Some clarity entered those eyes. Suddenly, the hand that was gripping his collar tightened and pulled Machias forward until he felt a weight on his chest. He didn’t question how he felt something wet soak the fabric of his shirt as Rean pressed his face against his chest. 

“You’re here?” The voice sounded tired and broken. 

Machias honestly had no idea if Rean was asking him or the remnants of his flashback, but he still responded. 

“Yeah.” 

He was pleased to feel the tremors slowly subside and to hear breathing return to a somewhat normal rate. 

Still, for good measure…

*knock* *thud* *thud* … *knock* *thud* … *thud* *knock* *thud* *thud* … *knock* *knock* *knock* … *knock* *thud* … *knock* *thud* *knock* *knock*

Machias wasn’t sure if he was hearing right, but he could’ve sworn that Rean made an amused chuckling noise before the teen's full weight fully pressed against him, body going limp. 

“Hey, are you okay!?”

Rean apparently fainted. 

The fact wasn’t so surprising, considering what he just went through, plus he still had a fever. With a relieved sigh, Machias untangled their hands and lightly patted Rean’s back. 

One crisis averted. Thank Aidios. 

He looked up to see the clash of blades, teeth, claws, and arts.

One more crisis to go.

For a brief moment, his eyes managed to catch Albarea’s and they both nodded to each other with determination. As insufferable as the noble was, Machias hated to admit that he was someone who could be relied on...

The sound of a stable link forming between their ARCUS’ echoed through the area.

Time to finally leave this hellish city with everyone in one piece.  

Notes:

I have to say, everytime I write a new chapter, I'm like "This is the most difficult chapter I've had the pleasure of writing." But this one definitely takes the cake. I had to do... so much experimentation... XD

Yay, I've finally revealed another piece of Rean's traumatic past (even though you all knew)! *Sigh* Rean and Machias just aren't having good times in Bareahard, but at least things haven't turned to be unfixable. They'll get their short-lived break soon.

~IMPORTANT AUTHOR'S NOTE~

INFORMATION REGARDING UPDATES: So, starting September, I'm supposed to be super busy, which means I can't continue my normal updates (which was whenever I wanted but roughly 3-4 times a month). So I'm wondering what kind of schedule you guys would like. I could continue my usual schedule until end of August (post about 5-6 chapters and then probably go on a 3-4 month hiatus.) OR I could write those chapters, but instead of posting them immediately, I'll post 1-2 chapters monthly.

So if you care about that, speak now or forever hold your peace. Also, WARNING, for anyone who wants these chapters as fast as possible and wouldn't mind a hiatus... there is a HIGH chance that the last chapter before the hiatus will be 100% angst and have a 'brutal' cliffhanger. (Yeah, I've been nice to you guys by giving you slices of comfort in the angst-heavy chapters so far, but for THAT chapter? Heh, there ain't any sign of hope.)

If no one says anything, I'll go with the hiatus because I want to experience what it's like for an author to torture readers, muahaha! (I was just... holding back on that impulse because this is still the beginning...) :3

Thanks for reading, I'd appreciate a comment, and take care!

Chapter 11: My Hatred; This Illusion

Notes:

Long chapter with a bunch of secrets. Might want to pace yourselves for this one...

Rean slowly opened his eyes to find himself facing a somewhat familiar ceiling. It wasn’t the ceiling of his dorm room… no, it was the ceiling of a hotel room in Bareahard. A wave of deja vu hit him, but he couldn’t quite grasp the memories. 

“Look who’s awake.”

He turned his head to the side, where the voice sounded from, and saw Fie casually laying on a chair next to his bed. She looked drowsy as always, but the little frown on the edges of her mouth indicated that she was also concerned. 

“Fie?” His eyes squinted at her, trying to make the details of his vision clear. Upon noticing how bandages were wrapped around her forehead and around her arm, he abruptly sat up. “What happened to you? Are you okay?!”

Oh, the sudden motion gave him a headache.

“Worry about yourself,” she snickered as she leaned forward in her seat. “But yeah, ’m good. We beat up those dogs, but I guess they did a number on us too… And maybe I had another duel...”

Rean didn't even hear the last part because his brain was still trying to process the dog part. Dogs? They beat up… dogs? His face wrinkled in confusion. That sounded awful. Why would they— 

He felt like a brick full of memories of their field study just hit him in the head. His eyes were blown wide as he remembered what he’d done. Immediately, he bowed his head and apologized. “I’m sorry! I didn’t mean to—” 

Fie cut him off by pushing him back to lay down on the bed. “What, you didn’t mean to have a panic attack? I’m pretty sure you can’t control those.” Her eyes shifted away from his gaze. “And besides, I’m the one who’s sorry for… you know.”

No, he didn’t know. Though, if he had to guess, he would assume that she was apologizing for triggering his attack. “You don’t have to,” he said softly, sitting up again. “You were just solving the problem of how to get past the door. I was at fault for not saying anything.”

Her eyes snapped back to him, eyeing him warily as her lips turned into a deeper frown. “Huh, you’re worse at accepting apologies than I am at giving apologies,” she let out a long sigh. “Fine then, if it really makes you feel better, I’m not sorry… just… “ She still sounded guilty. “...Tell me how to make sure you don’t react like that again.”

He blinked, unsure of how to answer. He never had a reaction that bad in a long time. The only trigger that came close nowadays was making a fire; never had an explosion—Oh Aidios, he hoped that this wouldn’t be an issue in the future…

“Just give me a heads up when you’re using an explosive,” he managed to shoot her a reassuring smile before he awkwardly scratched his cheek.

“Roger that.”

Turning away from her, his eyes scanned across the room until the sight of four paper constructions sitting on a different chair beside his bed caught his attention. Two were very well done, another had a little more visible creases and tears, and the last was almost entirely crippled.

More paper horses. 

“I see Laura gave you guys origami lessons.”

“Mn. We did it to pass time and because she said it’s a present for people stuck in bed… Can you tell which one’s mine?”

Rean had a feeling he would gain an entire collection of these if he found himself in bed rest after every field study. The thought gave him mixed feelings as he resolved to stay in healthy condition after every field study from now on.

“The one on the far left?” he said, pointing to one of the well done ones. He didn’t exactly want to hurt her feelings…

Fie snorted. “You wish.”

At the same time she spoke, the door to the room suddenly opened. Through it, Laura entered, holding two cones full of ice cream. “Oh, Rean, you’re awake!” she happily exclaimed as a pleasantly surprised smile reached her features. “I apologize for not getting you any ice cream, I thought you would be asleep longer.”

“It’s fine.” He blankly stared at how Laura passed one ice cream to Fie... As if they were friends. And Fie unhesitantly grabbed the consumable, offering her a thanks... As if they were friends. 

Huh.

He must have been gaping at them because they turned to look at him with smug looks. “Uh…” he said to regain his composure. “How long have I been out? And what happened? ”

The two looked at each other with some knowing look, as if they were silently communicating with each other. “Five hours.” Laura was the first to answer. “And about what happened… Oh, nothing much. Fie and I decided to set aside our differences and now we are… erm…” She hesitantly looked back to Fie, eyes pleading for help. “What is the term again?”

“BFFs,” Fie casually replied, missing no beat. “It means Best Fighting Friends.”

“...Congratulations?” As confused as he was to see their sudden friendship, he was happy that they were getting along. Though if Machias and Jusis suddenly barged into the room while holding hands, he'd be certain he'd finally gone insane.

Laura nodded while taking a lick at her ice cream. "And congratulations to you too. After all, this couldn't have happened without you."

"Uhh… what?" This reminded him of yesterday, when Machias admitted that he would get along with Laura and Fie. But this case somehow made even less sense, considering he had done absolutely nothing to help except be dead weight.

Unfortunately, they could not answer, because the door abruptly slammed open, followed by an indignant voice.

“—the audacity of your father! I mean no offense—actually, I mean all offense—but is that man truly so thin-skinned that he decided to BAN me just because I gave him a LITTLE criticism!?” Machias marched in, face red with frustration. “This is exactly what I hate about nobles!”

“Just be glad you’re not back in the dungeons for all that smack talk you gave him,” Jusis cooly replied, casually following him into the room as he calmly closed the door. “I hope you do not forget the favor you owe me and Rufus.”

Machias rolled his eyes. “While it pains me to be in debt to you, it was worth it. Seriously, if that man just ran this place better, then there would be less shitty nobles, better behavior from the provincial army, no dumb false accusations, no phantom thieves going around kidnapping people, and no demon dogs that want to eat our heads off!” he shouted, reciting all the events that had wronged him ever since he stepped foot in Bareahard. “Heck, I’m glad I’m banned from this city after today! I never want to come back ever again!”

“While I am inclined to, unfortunately, agree with you, I must say that your ban brings peace to my mind. Now I never have to worry about you corrupting my home city.”

“IT’S NOT CORRUPTION! IT’S REFORM!”

“Pish posh.”

“Don’t pish posh me—!”

“Pish posh.”

“Fie, DON’T you DARE join in!”

“Pish posh.”

“YOU GUYS—!”

Laura curiously tilted her head at Rean, finishing up her ice cream. “They’re stuck in their own world, aren’t they?”

“....I guess they are,” he slowly replied, watching the unique exchange with wide eyes. Machias and Jusis were still yelling at each other like usual, but there was absolutely no ill intent in their words. Such a change was… bizarre. It reminded him of the night before, but this time he was clear and alert to actually process that this was happening.

Were they friends now, too? If so, Rean felt happy about that. He still didn’t truly understand his influence on the changed dynamics, but he was glad that this field study ended up being successful. It seemed like the whole class would finally be united now. 

After a couple of minutes of their back and forth, the door opened once again, revealing a man in a blue and white uniform. If Rean remembered correctly, that was the man who had (rudely) woken him up earlier today.

Coughing at first to gain their attention, the provincial army officer announced, “Ahem, I am here to apologize to Rean Schwarzer.”

Huh? What now? His head was spinning from all these twists.

“As you should!” Machias angrily exclaimed, glaring at the man. “However, you need to properly wait for Rean to wake up this ti—” He looked over to said person and his eyes widened, realizing that he was already awake. “You’re awake!”

Rean frowned a little, caught off guard by how relieved he sounded. 

Jusis snorted, nodding in Rean’s direction. “Do you need to get your glasses checked? He has been awake ever since we got back.”

“Why didn’t you say anything!?”

“I thought I’d entertain him by letting you make a fool of yourself.”

“You—!”

This time, Rean coughed to prematurely end their argument. “Uh…” His eyes warily glanced at everyone in the room. “What is going on?”

Fie pointed her finger at the officer. “The jerk over there is gonna apologize for kicking you out of bed earlier.”

Wait, but wasn’t no one there to witness that? Laura and Fie had been away, Jusis had been in his home, while Machias had been in jail... “How did you find out?” 

Laura’s fingers innocently brushed against the hilt of her sword. “It simply took a little encouragement . Clearly, from his behavior toward Machias earlier, we doubted he would’ve acted nice to you.”

“It’s fine,” Rean hurriedly said, flashing them a nervous smile. “I—”

“Rean, I swear to Aidios…” Machias interrupted him. “If you say it’s somehow your fault, then I will punch Jusis’ father in the face.”

He had no idea how that was related, but he did not want Machias to go to jail or get executed.

Jusis sighed, covering his face with the palm of his hand. “You’re just looking for an excuse…”

“It’s a good excuse!” 

With that being said, the officer stepped closer to his bed and bowed down. “My deepest apologies.”

"You're forgiven." Rean slowly said, mostly because he was sure any other response would gain disapproval from his classmates. Though, if he had to be honest, he couldn’t stop the feeling of butterflies fluttering in his stomach from seeing them serve justice for him. It felt like he belonged with them.

...It was a nice feeling. 

"Hmph, that's a significant improvement from your apology to Regnitz earlier." Jusis made a shooing gesture with his hand. "You may leave now."

He locked eyes with Laura, speaking without words until she nodded. "I suppose Fie and I will be outside."

Fie stood up, stretching her arms and legs before she took one last glance at Rean. "Yeah, 'wouldn't want you getting overwhelmed."

Overwhelmed? Looking at Machias and Jusis, their eyes were now steely, as if they were going to give him a lecture. Perhaps he'd finally be reprimanded for having a panic attack during such a crucial time.

Once the girls left, Machias’ eyes softened as he took a seat in the chair Fie had been sitting on. "How are you?" he carefully asked.

“Good.” It was true for once. While he was slightly warm and fatigued, he didn’t feel intense pain from a headache. Shyly meeting lime eyes, he said, “Thanks for snapping me out of it.”

He remembered feeling the touch of a hand on his, helping him tap out the code that was unique to his family. For a moment, he thought his mom was there with him, but he was broken out of his illusion when Machias tapped that word one last time.

w-a-y-s-a-l

It wasn’t quite right, but it made him remember his current reality because nothing was actually right in the present. 

“No problem.” Machias smiled at him.

Then silence reigned upon them as it looked like the other's face contorted in deep thought, struggling to find the way to say something. 

The sound of Jusis’ sigh broke that uneasy quietness. 

“Really Regnitz? You know silence isn’t going to solve anything,” he said, standing next to Machias and locking serious eyes with Rean. “You are sorely mistaken if you thought we were going to forget your panic attack just like that.”

“Albarea!” Machias hissed in annoyance. “You can’t just jump the gun with delicate matters like this!”

“And what? Instead we’re supposed to dance around the topic and get nothing done? What he needs is the truth or else he’ll never understand what's wrong.” His unimpressed eyes glanced at Machias before returning to Rean. “Rean, from observing you these past two months, I have reached a conclusion: You are a danger to yourself.”

Rean hesitantly nodded only because he didn't know how else to respond. In the back of his head, he knew that. He just didn't care. However, hearing Jusis say that made the familiar feeling of dread pool in his gut; he didn’t like the sound of where this conversation was going. 

Machias sighed, “You’re going to overwhelm him if you just say it like that.” However, instead of berating the noble more, he decided to go along with it. His voice gentle, he asked, “Were you aware that the explosion was going to send you into an attack?”

It was at that moment that Rean realized that Machias and Jusis were a duo just as dangerous as Laura and Fie, only in a different way. They were essentially the good cop and bad cop; Jusis blatantly unveiled the harsh truth to fluster the interogees while Machias defended them and acted comforting, eventually causing them to cooperate with him out of some semblance of trust or fear. 

It was certainly working on Rean, making him completely stressed out.

They probably didn’t even plan to do this, nor did they know what effect they were having. Honestly, if Bleublanc hadn’t kidnapped Machias during the investigation and if they were on good terms with each other at the time, then Rean would have probably had a breakdown. 

Really, he didn’t want to deal with Jusis’ truth, and he didn’t want to receive Machias’ comfort. 

It also didn’t help that he already trusted them and he saw them as... friends .

And thus, he felt like he was betraying them by denying them so much information. Taking a deep breath, he decided he could answer a question like that. “I'll be honest, I haven't had a reaction like that in a long time. The fever was most likely the cause for it…”

“So you admit that you were pushing yourself too much?” 

“I guess…”

Jusis sighed, keeping his eyes trained on Rean’s, which only seemed to shy away from the intensity of his gaze. “This isn’t the first time you’ve pushed yourself too far. On the first day of school, you apparently forced yourself to use a fire art which you nearly had a complete breakdown for.” 

Machias slightly flinched, knowing he was the cause of that. 

“When you were given the task to investigate the schoolhouse by yourself, you tried to go alone. And even when you knew the monsters there were tough, you tried to send away your group. Then, on the first field study, you apparently went outside by yourself to practice conjuring fire which stressed you out so much you nearly fainted. And now today, you pushed yourself when you had a fever which apparently helped drive you into a panic attack that you couldn’t even bring yourself out of.” 

Jusis’ voice was still level, calm even, but it sent a torrent of fear crashing down on Rean’s heart, knowing where he was going with this. His fingers tightly clenched the bed sheets, bracing himself for the words. 

“You do know that the people we resent are the people we intentionally hurt, right? Meanwhile, you bring yourself so much pain…”

Ah… This was it.

Jusis could see through him. He knew the truth. Judging by how he had gotten most of that information from others, then he could only imagine that the rest of Class VII had suspicions that he wasn’t just polite smiles with decent sword skills and a silly fear of fire. 

But Rean didn't want to hear it. Especially not from a mouth that wasn't his own. Because that meant that he would feel compelled to tell them exactly why . That meant that they would see the real him. Not the one who liked fishing or whatever else he didn’t know he enjoyed, but the one that was full of evil and deserved everyone's hatred. 

“...I can only imagine that means you despise yourself.”

 

Wait. 

No. 

That was wrong.

 

The only reason he didn’t flinch or recoil or laugh or breakdown from those words was because Jusis had put it lightly. 

So painfully lightly.

De-spise. The letters, the corresponding phonetics, the meaning, the word—it all seemed so far away… It was a word he would write in a paper for school, not a word to describe this feeling .

Hate . Short, simple. Close, personal. 

It was the only word that felt right . Oh, he would've very much preferred if the words "despise," "resent," "loathe," and whatever else could resonate with him because he would feel less restricted, less suffocated with this feeling. But he only had this one word. 

In a way, this was poetic. All his feelings were bottled up in himself. He couldn't say or do anything to truly let anyone know the full extent of his emotions. Just like the word h-a-t-e. No one could fully grasp the burning sensation from just seeing four letters. No one could ever understand by hearing such a simple word.

And so no one would truly know just how much he hated himself.

No one.

And why wouldn’t he hate himself? 

Why wouldn’t everyone hate him?

He set off that fire . 

He let go of her hand. 

He died even w he n she said to live.

H e let his dad make a contract with the devil to save his life.

He listened to that devil and sold his soul away.

H e killed for no reason .

He hurt Lianne. 

H e left her.  

H e made problems for his adoptive family.  

H e traumatized Elise.

And after all that —after everything his dad and Liann e and his adoptive family did to save him—he went back to the devil. 

Could somebody please tell him… how the hell anyone could possibly love an ungrateful monster like him?

But no one could. Because it wasn’t possible. 

If anyone did love him, it was out of— 

—Duty— 

—Extreme kindness— 

—Ignorance— 

 

O̴̥̞̖̟̳͂̾̊ͅr̶͕̭̦̺̓̍̿̊͘ ̶̪͙̫̻͂̋͝b̵͎͔̂͌͑̐e̷̳̱͌̓̍c̶̝̓͊̈́͑̌a̷̤̩͙͓̒ù̵̠̈́̄̎̌ͅs̸̢̫̎e̴̺̠̻̦̋̐͋ ̶̹̹͓̳̽͝ṫ̶̻̻͎͘͝ͅh̵̳̰͓̮͈́̓̚e̵̝̬̞̒͠y̵̢̔̈́̂̾͑ ̷̡̡̩͂͐͑͝ả̷̹̜̞̟̾̉ç̸̲͔̭̗͑t̸͗͜u̷͚̥͓̫͔͔͐ą̵̖̞̹̳̊ͅl̷̪̰̺̳̅͝͝͝ḷ̸͂̋̓̑y̵̜̲̎̌̌̚ ̸̫͚̻̻͌̈͑̆c̵̯̳̘̘͊ă̷̞̲̈́̚r̶̛͕͖̓͋̿̊̀ě̸̲͔̟̺̮̤̒d̵͖̹̈́.̶̹̟̪͉̜̈́̾͋̐̐

 

It was all fake . All a lie . An illusion that could only be broken when he died.

 

Ą̴̧̤̳̣̻̫̄͊͗n̸̦̥̹͓̽̀̚d̶͍͙̾̃ͅ ̵̨͍̣̮̮̖̦̞̱̉̅́̓ͅḩ̸̧̻̳̂̔̆̓̒̚͜ę̷̥̬̺̮̊̎̾̊͌ ̴̱͕̫̩̼̪̞͖͊l̵͕̮̺̦̥̙̜̺̟̑́͒͐͆͌̒̓̚͠o̸̖̺̳͛̉͛̃͂̈́̍̕n̵̥̩̪̓g̵̨̢̛̥͇͓̻̀̌̈́̕͠ẹ̵͚̫̬͖̣̣̞͈̐̕ḑ̸̪̲̏̽̔͊͌̉ ̶̪̣̩̳͍̟̞͔̣͙̟̾̽f̶̪̞̺̳̗̜̺̼̐́̐̋̉̿̕͝͝ͅõ̸̭̪̹͈̿̌͛̄̎̾͗̆͝͝ř̵͉̘̫̬̱̰̜̻͈̦̆̓ ̷̡̯̺͎̲̩͉͎̩̲̪̹̀͐ḍ̵̡̨̢̱͔̟̺̱͓͔͋̕ͅe̷̠͇͓̟͊̂̅̿̀͘͠ä̸̬̬̘̤̪́͆ͅt̷̘̤̼͍͍͎̹̀͑̆̔͗́͂͜h̷͙͉̩̘͔̪̘͉̫̻͒̾̈́̐͜.̷͕͕͙̑͐̋̉̚ 

 

But he had a mission he refused to run away from. 

He couldn’t die.

Even though he had no right to live. Even though he should be dead.

He couldn’t die. Couldn't let Ishmelga win. Couldn’t escape. Couldn’t be free from all this, Couldn’t get what he deserved— 

“Rean?” He slowly looked up at Machias, whose eyebrows were tightly pinched in concern. 

Right. He had gotten so lost in his thoughts and feelings that he completely forgot about the present. 

His eyes turned to look down at where his fingers were tightly clenching the sheets, surging with familiar power. His emotions were laughably intense just from hearing words that were wrong . He needed to get himself under control; he was so dangerously close to being consumed by that power. 

He couldn’t afford to lose it… 

But it was their fault.  

Before school started, he could control his emotions fairly well. Before school started , he could definitely control his urges. He could get out of the spiral by him self with little problem . He never had so many breakdowns . He never lost control of his thoughts when he was sim ply sitting on a bed. He never had to worry so much…

They mad e his tightly locked and dangerous emotions go haywire . They made him look for his good self, even though there wasn't anything to look for. They made him think about who he wanted to be instead of who he should be. 

 

They let him hope.

 

Truly these people … all thes e classmates… these friends …

They undid him entirely. In a way completely different from Ishmelga.

They made him want to risk everything— 

To sacrifice everything— 

To destroy himself again… and again … and again .

 

(Even though there was barely anything left of him to destroy.)

 

With them, he could pretend to feel worthy of being needed. 

Worthy of being wanted.

It was painful.

 

...No, it was wrong of him to blame these people. Instead, he would have to blame it all on the mask. It was the one thing he liked about “himself.” He could pretend that his life was normal—that he was normal. He could pretend that he earned their kindness as he miraculously helped unite the class. 

When he thought about himself like that, he could see why his peers liked “him”, even though it made him feel more like a fraud. 

He didn’t want to think about how confused he got whenever they were friendly to him when he showed his true self made mistakes.

Because of these thoughts… he wondered if he could keep the illusion going. For once, he thought about a future without Ishmelga, without the threat of the end of the world, without the fear of betraying them. He thought about graduating with them and not being strangers. 

That would be nice. Maybe he could live out a normal life like how his dad always wanted— 

What a silly thought. What an appealing thought.

Confusing—So confusing. His head was a mess. He would need to sort out his thoughts and feelings later. 

For now though, he wouldn’t stop pretending. He liked them. He didn’t want them to see the truth yet. 

He didn’t want them to hate him yet. 

…

He must have been silent for too long again, because Machias spoke up again with a voice full of understanding. “You can ignore Albarea's ramblings.”

Immediately, he shook his head, looking up at them again with a reassuring smile.

So fake.

 He didn’t need them to feel bad for him. He didn’t need to encourage them to show him more kindness. 

He wasn’t worth it.  

Anyway, they knew the truth but they didn't know the full extent; the only way to gain control of this disastrous situation was to downplay his truth...

“I'm mostly just trying to improve myself, but I go overboard sometimes, haha. Though I must admit that I do have some self-loathing issues.”

...and tell them not to worry by lying…

“Don’t worry. My family knows and they’re making sure I get help. I’m...”

...and reassure them that he was…

“...getting better.”

 

It worked. Machias and Jusis believed him, shoulders slumping in relief. They had no reason to think he was lying about something like that. 

“As long as you are aware and are receiving help, I will drop the subject unless you ask,” Jusis said, a satisfied look on his face as he bowed his head in apology. “My apologies if I pushed you too far.”

"It's fine."

"Don't be afraid to talk to us if you need to, okay?" Machias added, eyes not losing the concern. "We're h̵̰e̷̺͆r̵̫̋e̴̺͛ ̶̢͝f̷͓͝ọ̶̽ŕ̸̟ ̴̛̰y̴͈͊o̸͉̊ǔ̷̠."

“Okay.”

Rean chuckled. Even though it sounded hollow to his ears. 

Everything would only be okay if they could all pretend that he was okay.

---

After Rean thanked everyone for taking care of him and revealed to them that he hadn’t eaten anything since before they defeated that quest monster yesterday, they decided to go out and eat before they returned to Trista. To be honest, he didn’t even feel hungry despite how it had nearly been twenty-four hours since he consumed anything, but he wanted to get their minds off his problems. 

They headed to Sorciere Restaurant and were seated at a table. While they were looking through the menu to decide what to eat, Fie spotted something peculiar. 

“Hey, Jusis. Is that your brother and his girlfriend?”

At that, everyone’s heads immediately darted toward the direction of Fie’s gaze, especially Rean and Jusis because they knew for sure that Rufus did not have a girlfriend. 

Upon seeing Rufus dining at a table with an orange-haired woman wearing robes of the Church, Jusis huffed. “Don’t be ridiculous. That’s a sister of the Church, she already made a vow to not marry. My brother is most likely eating with her out of courtesy, especially if she was involved in one of his duties.”

Rean would have thought the same thing, except... There was something familiar about the woman. 

He wouldn't have figured it out if he wasn't still feeling Ishmelga’s lingering power coursing through his veins. With this power active, he was still able to access a unique ability that didn’t involve buffing this strength. Instead, this particular ability allowed him to sense an aura of hatred from other people.

Specifically, hatred for Chancellor Osborne. 

Aside from information from the Intelligence Division, this was the power that the Ashen Saint used to locate people who would potentially throw away their lives to kill his dad. Sometimes people were really good at hiding their hatred and he had to really focus or let loose more power to find such people. Others were easy to detect.

Like this woman. He could sense the hatred simmering in her soul even as she was peacefully talking to Rufus. He kind of recognized her too, only because many of the people he met didn’t wear eyepatches. 

Seeing her with Rufus… It wasn’t hard to guess what she was. Rufus never made an effort to be closely acquainted with someone for no reason . If it improved his reputation as a noble or was required for an Ironblood job, he would do it; he would do anything that benefited himself. Knowing that the woman hated his dad and knowing Rufus’ secret mission, Rean could only assume that she was a terrorist. 

He was somewhat knowledgeable about the situation. Apparently a group full of people with a grudge against his dad made an alliance with the Noble Alliance. Their combined goal was to kill his dad, take over the empire, and reinforce the class system.

Ishmelga believed that the reason his dad used Rufus as a spy was so he could help the nobles spark a war with enough conflict to start the Great Twilight. However, the cursed entity didn’t have high hopes, considering only three Divine Knights have awakened so far. While Rean was working on the Ashen Knight and Black Alberich was dealing with the Palatinate Knight, it wasn’t certain when they would finish. They still didn’t know where the Auric Knight’s trial would pop up, and as for the Vermillion… Rean didn’t want to think about it with all the guilt gnawing at him.

His dad’s true intentions were more along the lines of seeing if Ouroboros’ Phantasmal Blaze plan would work. They assumed that the Anguis who was in charge of the plan here was trying to set up a mock rivalry to release part of the curse so the whole world wouldn’t be dragged into their mess, hence why a civil war was stirring up instead of a world war. This plan was very much preferred to declaring war on the entire world and possibly ending the world, so it was worth seeing if it would work.

Even if it meant getting shot in the chest. Or in the head.

(Rean really didn’t want to think about it.)

The plans were already set in motion. Rufus was confident that all the major roles on the board were filled which was why it was fine for the Ashen Saint to try to stop anyone else from throwing their lives away and becoming an insignificant pawn for this awful game.

Looking at the female terrorist, he guiltily sighed. He couldn’t help her anymore. 

“Rean?” 

Broken out of his thoughts, he looked at Fie who was wearing a playful smirk. “You’re staring a little too hard. Is she your type?”

It took a little too long for him to process the meaning behind her words. 

“Wha?” was his intelligent response as his brain short-circuited. He’d never thought about it because he wouldn’t even wish it upon the vilest human beings to fall in love with him. He had absolutely no intention of falling in love with someone because that meant that he would want that someone to fall in love with him (and that would just be cruel to that person).

He already couldn’t accept family love or friend love. There was no chance in Gehenna that he would accept romantic love.

Not to mention… He didn’t really plan on living that long.

“I’m not interested.” He wasn’t aware of his wistful smile which prompted the others to change the direction of the conversation. 

Jusis quietly took a sip out of his drink before saying, “I bet Regnitz here is like one of the fools who are madly in love with Vita Clotilde.”

Machias choked on his drink, face turning red. “I am not!”

“Who is she?” Laura asked, not being up to date with popular culture.

Fie shrugged. “No clue.”

Suddenly, hands slammed onto the table as Machias stared at them in utter shock. “You guys don’t know who Vita Clotilde is?!”

They both shook their heads, prompting Machias to enter a fanboy mode, going into great detail about all her performances since her debut. 

Unfortunately for Machias who had yet to get halfway done with his lecture, the doors were suddenly kicked open, showing none other than Instructor Sara. This behavior earned her some disgusted glares from the seated nobles who were enjoying their evening meals.

“Hey kiddos!” She made several long strides to their table. Abruptly, her hand went to reach a loaf of bread that was on Fie’s plate, but Fie immediately pinned the bread to her plate with a firm stab of her fork. The instructor seemed unfazed, looking at all of them with a carefree smile. “Looks like you all survived! And looks like you’re best buds already!”

Machias choked on his glass of water again while Jusis simply shot her an exhausted glare. Meanwhile, Rean was focused on the peculiar presence that suddenly ran under the table. Upon hearing a familiar giggle, he stopped himself from checking. 

“How you continue to utter such blasphemy with a straight face continues to baffle me,”Jusis sighed, crossing his arms. 

Laura owlishly blinked at him, with a confused tilt to her head. “I thought she was telling the truth?”

Fie snickered. “They’re just acting like tsunderes.”

Now her eyebrows were pinched. “What is a tsundere?”

At the same time, both of the boys fervently denied that they weren’t.

“Calm down,” Instructor Sara tried to placate them with the clap of her hands but only received glares. “Anyway, since we’re all here, I’ve decided to give you early access to some news!”

Immediately, everyone looked at her suspiciously.

“Did you finally get a boyfriend?” Fie raised her brow, regarding her with a sneer.

“Haha, funny.” the woman deadpanned before she snapped her fingers. “But first, let me start from the beginning. Truth be tooold, I was never planning on checking up on you guys because I wanted a little break from the nuclear quartet~”

Rean couldn't even resist the urge to face-palm at the same time the four students realized who she was talking about. He would’ve apologized for the rude gesture, but everyone seemed amused and he was drained, so he decided to keep quiet.

“Unfortunately, I was tasked to look over a student transferring into this class and she suddenly ran off, so I tracked her down to Bareahard. When I got the call from Group B about your little ‘silence’, I completely forgot about her to find you guys!”

After yesterday’s events and Instructor Sara’s words to him, Rean almost saw her as a responsible adult. She was now shattering that vision with her carefree words. 

"Instructor Sara, I'm starting to lose faith in you," he hesitantly admitted. He didn’t want to deal with this when he still couldn’t deal with the mess of thoughts and feelings in his head. If his bad luck would have it, she would probably dump the task of looking for this girl on him.

Jusis scoffed. "I thought she lost all that the moment she dumped us through a trapdoor."

“Anywayyyyyy," she ignored them, continuing her story. "When I woke up today, I finally remembered and went out to look for her. With the help of an old colleague, I found her! Let me introduce you—Wait, where is she?” She blinked owlishly at the entrance to find no one there.

Jusis sighed, massaging his temples as if he had an awful headache. “Please do not tell me this student you’re looking for is the girl hiding under the table who’s been sneakily stealing our appetizers.”

Rean’s eyebrows furrowed while a small frown appeared on his face. Why would she transfer into his class? He hadn’t been told of this development at all...

Curiously, Sara lifted the table cloth to reveal a girl with turquoise hair sitting down, happily munching down on a salad.

Upon noticing the attention she was receiving, she grinned at them and waved.

“Heya! Name’s Millium Orion! Nice to meetcha!”

 

---

---

 

“And this is my partner, Airgetlam!” she raised her hand, summoning her best friend into the dorm with no shame. “I call him Lammy though. Say hi!” She waved her hand, as did Lammy, to the rest of the baffled class.

They had finally returned to Trista from Bareahard, and now she was officially introducing herself to the entire class in the dormitory. 

The orange-haired boy—er, his name was Elliot according to the files—was the first to respond, looking confused and concerned. “Aren’t you a little too young to be joining a military academy?”

“That’s what I was saying! But first—” Machias loudly agreed before he pointed at Lammy with an incredulous look on his face. “How come you’re not reacting to how she literally summoned that thing out of nowhere?! Isn’t that the more pressing matter here?!”

Gaius tilted his head at Lammy, seemingly amused and thoughtful. “Is this not common in Erebonia?”

Oh, she wished. That way, Lammy could have more friends!

“HELL NO!”

Laura folded her arms in front of her as she tried to determine Lammy's strength with her eyes. “Considering how Instructor Sara also has one, I thought this was another advancement in technology that I wasn’t aware of,” 

“I’ve never even seen concept notes of something like that back at Roer,” Alisa commented, gaze roaming over Lammy’s shape, trying to see if she could pick any noteworthy details.

The rest of the class muttered their thoughts about Lammy as Millium let her eyes wander over every student until they rested on her target. 

There were slight bags under those lilac eyes as well as a faint flush on his cheeks. She leapt toward him and wrapped her arms around his arm, checking his temperature. Still warm, but cooler than it had been when they left Bareahard.

Basically healthy.

Though, despite her terrible emotional intelligence, she had the feeling that he was… down. She didn’t know why she had that feeling, nor what to do about it (since the hugs didn’t seem to be cheering him up), so she just kept that piece of information in the back of her head. 

The reason why Millium was observing him so closely was because she had some very… interesting orders. She didn’t even receive them directly from Gramps, it was Lechter who gave her the mission on a piece of paper. 

The mission was long term. Apparently she had to go undercover as a student at Thors Military Academy, and that sounded pretty exciting because she had never been to school before—it would be a new experience! However, the specifics of this mission were very strange. Normally she would go and apprehend some criminals or steal information or get Lechter and Claire some coffee. Not something like:

“Keep an eye on Rean Schwarzer.”

Okay, she lied. She had done missions that required stalking before, but the details of the mission were what really made it unique. In particular, she had to report information about his health, what his life was like, and what kind of interpersonal relationships he had. 

...This kinda info was pretty mundane and Millium would’ve thought Gramps was checking on some estranged son if she didn’t know any better.

Huh. 

Now that was an interesting thought. Maybe they were scouting him out, seeing if he could be a potential Ironblood... 

Wait a minute. 

She perked up at the thoughts of gaining another Ironblood sibling. She could be the cool older sister for once!

Those thoughts were what motivated her to keep an eagle eye on him. It helped that no one was suspicious of her because they just thought she liked hugs (which wasn’t a lie). She could monitor his health by checking his temperature or seeing if he was in pain through hugs, and no one would suspect her. However, she didn’t want to be too suspicious, so she decided to draw the attention away from her true intentions by invading Jusis’ personal space. 

“Get off me, child!”

Heh, it was so funny to see his grumpy reactions every time!

“That’s enough chit-chat, kids. Make sure you treat Millium nicely, alright?” Sara clapped her hands, effectively silencing the entire class. Millium didn’t miss how the instructor sent her a suspicious glance before she walked up the stairs of the dorm, presumably to her room.

Lechter had told her that Sara wouldn’t entirely appreciate having an Ironblood in her class, especially when she didn’t know what the intention of said Ironblood was. Also, from what Millium observed in the short time that she’d been with the instructor, she noticed that the woman was strangely protective of this class. 

Back in Bareahard, Sara had been hot on Millium’s tail until she received a call on her ARCUS. After the conversation ended, the woman stopped chasing her and ran back to the city. She later learned the reason why was because Sara had to bust her students (her “kids,” she called them) out of trouble. Hearing that kind of made Millium feel warm and she finally noticed that the gleam in Sara’s eyes when Class VII was mentioned was reminiscent of the gleam in Claire’s eyes when Millium surprise-attacked her.

Millium didn’t have the best education in the department of emotions, but she was pretty sure those ”looks'' in their eyes were indicative of affection. Protection, even.

Silently stepping away from Jusis, she watched the two groups use this time to reunite. Since observing Rean’s relationships was part of her job, she wondered how these classmates treated him (and each other). 

"I can't believe they've been standing in the same room for five minutes now, and they haven't even had a single argument," Alisa gaped as she closely inspected their classmates, wondering if they'd been replaced by doppelgangers or something.

Jusis crossed his arms, scoffing under his breath. "You say that like you expect us to act like kids."

"Yeah, I don't remember us being so hopeless that you wouldn't expect some progress," Machias muttered, pushing his glasses up while shifting his eyes away from his classmates.

Their calm composure was disturbed when the temperature in the room suddenly got colder, sending chills up both their spines. Everyone turned to see Elliot wearing a dangerously innocent smile.

"Oh really?" His voice was calm, yet sinister. It reminded Millium of when she sometimes stole Claire's ice cream. "I seem to recall creating a sonata reflecting how you two hated each other's guts and agreed to never work with each other. Maybe I should play it again to… jog your memory?"

"I'm fine, thank you." 

"I'm good!" 

Emma stepped toward Laura and Fie, wearing a smile not unlike Elliot's. Millium chuckled at the surprising revelation that the people who looked the most shy ended up being the most intimidating ones in the class.

"I hope everything is fine between you two, now?"

"Yup, we're BFFs," Fie stated as her eyes glanced at the blue-haired girl. "Though we might have gotten into another duel and Laura might've hit me in the head for revenge."

Laura bowed her head down in guilt. "My apologies. We did exactly what you told us not to do."

Emma only smiled warmly as she pulled both of them into a hug. "Hehe, I'm glad as long as you two are getting along." Despite her words, the temperature in the room suddenly dropped again as she added, "But I will give you two a stern lecture about how head injuries are no-nos, okay?"

The two girls sweat-dropped at how she was treating them like children, but they supposed they deserved it. Regardless, they were definitely not looking forward to that time.

"Roger."

"Understood."

Meanwhile, Gaius stepped forward and rested a hand on Rean’s shoulder. 

“Seems like you did a good job,” he smiled.

Alisa put a hand on her hip as she curiously eyed Rean. “Question is, how’d you do it?”

“Ah, um…” Rean nervously scratched his cheek, unable to hide the blush on his face. “I didn’t really do much. They overcame their differences by themselves.”

Eight pairs of eyes suddenly narrowed at him. Millium grinned at how well they seemed to know each other, though she had to admit his statement was obviously a lie. Truth be told, once she was done infiltrating Aurochs Fort, she kept an eye on Class VII’s group in Bareahard. She saw them fight, make up, and protect each other—and Rean was surprisingly at the center of each of those situations. 

“I don’t believe you,” Alisa deadpanned. 

“Really! You can see for yourself when you read our reports,” Rean awkwardly laughed as he suspiciously backed away from the group—and then proceeded to escape toward the stairs. 

Millium watched his fleeting figure in confusion. She wondered why he felt the need to flee from his classmates.

“You’re too humble for your own good,” Machias sighed. Everyone else agreed in exasperation, but couldn’t wipe the fond smiles from their faces. 

As the rest of the class dispersed and went to go into their rooms, Millium stood still, deep in thought. From what she saw of the class so far... she could tell that everyone had varying levels of affection or care for their classmates. They teased each other, like Lechter. They scolded each other for doing something reckless, like Claire. They even chuckled at each other’s faults, while accepting them all the same, like Gramps.

Huh. Class VII was kind of like a family. 

It was pretty neat. 

Millium liked the idea of everyone in the class—including the instructor—being pretty close. It was fun playing around with strangers, but it was even more fun playing with people she was really close to! 

Man, she couldn’t wait to be friends with them!

---

The first thing she did once her first week of classes was over was drag everyone (who had nothing to do because their clubs were cancelled or whatever) to help her find a club to join. This was more of a ploy to get to know her classmates better (as well as inspect their relationships), but she had to admit that the thought of beating and smashing ingredients to make good-tasting food sounded like the best thing ever. 

And that was how Millium, Rean, Jusis and Fie found themselves participating in the cooking club.

“Goddess, the one time the horse-riding club is cancelled,” Jusis sighed, cursing how he was dragged into this mess, Millium chuckled at his reaction, somehow knowing that as grumpy as he acted, he didn’t really mind doing this. 

Fie’s eyes were trained onto the bowl she furiously whisked in. “Don’t see what you’re complaining about, this is pretty fun and we get some free food out of it.”

“Fie,” Rean said with concern as he took a peek at her actions. “There’s nothing in your bowl.”

“Still fun,” she smoothly replied, still continuing to whisk at the empty contents in the bowl. This prompted Rean to crack open some eggs against the edge of the bowl and let the yolks fall prey to Fie’s merciless movements. Moments later, he poured the rest of the ingredients in.

“Fie’s right! This is great!” Millium piped up while munching on a cookie that some other member of the cooking club just baked. “We get to break eggs, beat up some ingredients together, and shred some fruit! It’s so cool destroying things to eat good food!”

Jusis crossed his arms, unconvinced by their incentives. “That’s if we actually make something good. Don’t even try to ignore the fact that I saw you almost add salt instead of sugar, Millium.”

Millium happily hummed as if that fact wasn’t shameful at all. Pensively, she stared at him as she clapped her hands in excitement. “Hmm, you’re right! We could totally accidentally poison the food and kill anyone who ate it!”

Her classmates looked at her carefully. Honestly, she didn’t understand why she was getting this type of reaction. It was definitely possible and maybe even something to consider before they ate the food.

After the brief silence, Fie casually spoke up, “I heard a story about a jaeger who killed half his corp because he accidentally poisoned the food that he cooked.”

Jusis stared at them flatly. “What a wonderful conversation between you two, now my appetite has been effectively ruined.” His eyes glanced at Rean who looked like he was about to say something. “Have anything you want to add to this conversation?”

“Ah, no.” Sheepishly, he rubbed the back of his neck as he awkwardly met their gazes. “It just reminded me of a time when my sister used to not understand how to cook. She baked me some cookies and…” His eyes shifted away as he nervously chuckled. “I almost died.”

Millium made a mental note to keep an eye on that sister of his if they ever crossed paths. 

“How funny.” The lack of emotion in his voice clearly showed that he thought nothing they said was amusing. “It astonishes me how all of you can say such morbid pieces with smiles or nonchalance.”

“If it makes you feel any better, my sister has improved and is now a wonderful baker.” Rean’s eyes seemed to light up in pride, and Millium couldn’t help but feel like his eyes had seemed pretty dull until now. Huh, weird. 

“Yeah, ‘hope we don’t make the same mistake as your sister, Rean,” Fie snorted as she shoved their abomination into the oven and closed the oven door with a lazy kick. 

Millium curiously looked up at all of them as another brief silence loomed over them. From their fluid and playful banter, it was obvious that they were all at least friends—well, at least from what Millium understood from the word. She only had Lammy and the Ironbloods and Gramps. She didn’t really know what it was like to have friends.

Because of her uncertainty of the word, there was only one way to make sure of the status of their relationships.

“Is anyone in the class dating?”

To be honest, Millium didn’t really know the difference between friendship and the “next level,” as Lechter had called it. However, it would probably help to understand their relationships if she put them in categories more specific than being “friends.”

Three pairs of eyes snapped to her, surprised by where the conversation was suddenly steered. 

“I didn’t expect you to be the type of person to gossip, but I suppose I shouldn’t be surprised,” Jusis sighed, clearly wishing the cake would bake faster. “I will not entertain you with the private lives of our classmates.”

Unlike him, it seemed Fie was completely okay with revealing the details of their classmate’s lives. “No one’s dating anyone. Though Rean has been getting a bunch of love letters.” 

A faint blush surfaced on Rean’s cheeks as he pointed his eyes toward the floor, and Millium had to wonder if he had a fever again. 

“Yes, it appears that half the population of this school has fallen for him.”

Rean pouted, looking at Jusis with betrayed eyes. “What happened to ‘I will not entertain you with the private lives of our classmates’?”

His only response was an indifferent shrug, much to his exasperation

Millium tilted her head at Rean in confusion and in concern. “You know, I once read a file about how there was a student who had a lot of people fall in love with him. Apparently one of them was a stalker who later drugged him, kidnapped him, and killed him.” One of her fingers reached up to lightly tap her own cheek, deep in thought. It didn’t cross her mind how ironic it was for her to talk about this, considering how she was technically his stalker at the moment. “There was a similar case but, instead of a stalker, there was a guy who killed the student out of jealousy.”

Dead silence.

Rean then turned around and headed for the door, a nervous smile was adorned on his face. “I’m going to… uh… check my mail for anything suspicious.”

“Ooh! I’m coming too!” Millium happily raised her hand and followed him out of the room. Out of the corner of her eye, she saw that Jusis and Fie were right behind them with a familiar gleam in their eyes.

She mentally jotted that down. It seemed like they were protective of their classmates. 

---

Good news, there didn’t seem to be anything suspicious in Rean’s mail, other than that one letter that was from his sister. Millium wanted to see, but he stubbornly kept his mouth shut before he remembered that they left the cake baking in the cooking club. 

This led to the bad news. The unsupervised cake ended up making a mess and somehow damaged the oven. 

(As they wondered how that happened, her thoughts totally did not flash back to how she snuck in some random ingredient in there when Rean had been talking about his sister.)

While the others worked on cleaning the mess up, Millium was sent to the Engineering Building to find a guy named George who could help fix the oven.

When she opened the doors of the building and walked in, she noticed two people were inside. They were… familiar in a way, but she didn’t actually know them. Her amber eyes scanned the friendly-looking chubby boy and then the brown-haired man in a tan trench coat. 

Yep, she was sure she had seen them before, but she couldn’t quite remember...

“Heya! Do I know you two?” she asked with an innocent tilt of her head, gaining their attention. 

The chubby guy—whose appearance was a lot like the engineer she was supposed to fetch—looked at her curiously, raising a finger to thoughtfully scratch his chin. “I don’t think so…”

“I’m afraid not, young lady,” said the man, closing his eyes while showing her a pleasant smile. “It’s a pleasure to meet you. You can call me Professor Lughman.”

“And I’m George,” the other guy added, realizing he didn’t introduce himself. 

Huh. Well, those names weren’t familiar to her at all. Plus, their reactions seemed genuine, so she didn’t bother to think more about it. 

“I’m Millium! Nice to meetcha!” She gave George a note from the cooking club. Upon reading the words written on the paper, he grabbed his toolbox on the counter and rushed through the door. 

She would have followed him back to the cooking club, but her senses were begging her to learn more about the man here. 

There was just something about him that…

Before the man completed a single step to the door, signalling that he was going to leave, she asked what he was doing in the Engineering Building.

About to reply, he opened his mouth, but the door opened again and two very familiar people walked into the room.

“Greetings, Millium,” Gaius waved his hand at her, followed by Laura. They both took notice of the man in the room and their eyes lit up in recognition. “And… Professor Lughman, correct?”

He smiled warmly at them, nodding his head a little. “Correct. And your names are Gaius and Laura?”

“You guys know him?” Millium was confused. She was wondering if he was part of the faculty at Thors, but she didn’t remember ever seeing a file for him from the Intelligence Division. 

Laura answered first. “My group met him during our first field study at Parm. I’m pretty sure Fie and I were dueling at Isthmia Great Forest when we saw him and some young blonde girl there.” She hummed thoughtfully, eyes looking up as she tried to search through her memories. “I don’t remember much because of my concussion, but I do recall that you both said you were lost.”

Professor Lughman nodded. “Yes and, thanks to your instructor, we managed to get back to Parm safely and soundly.”

“How about the girl that was with you? I remember her appearing very angry and threatening to burn you for some reason.”

Huh. That sounded like an interesting character. Millium wanted to be friends with her already. 

A deep, amused chuckle escaped his throat. “Yes, Roselia is doing just fine. She was just upset because I was treating her like a child, even though she is.” His eyes then turned to focus on Gaius. “We met at Saint-Arkh, right? Tell me, is Alisa doing better? She didn’t look so well when I saw her.”

“She’s better; she said she was just a little motion sick from the train ride,” Gaius kindly replied before he asked his own question. “So, what are you up to now?”

“I am exploring shrines and other places on the continent that are known for their spiritual significance. I suspect, by the end of this month, I’ll reach Nord.”

Gaius perked up at the sound of his homeland. He smiled fondly, warmly remembering his home, before he said, “It’s beautiful, and there are a lot of historical sites there. I'm sure you'll enjoy exploring it."

Millium raised one of her eyebrows as she regarded the professor with curiosity. "So are you some kind of travelling professor?"

"Indeed I am. I have an interest in relics of the past, such as shrines and statues. Though the reason I'm at Thors is because I got a little lost,” Professor Lughman explained with an embarrassed tone. “George found me and told me he’d help me out. He just needed to take care of a few things first.”

Millium laughed, crossing her arms behind her head. “Wow, for someone who travels a lot, you sure do get easily lost! What a funny guy!” 

He smiled at her. “Yes, I fear my sense of direction is awful, but I won’t let something so simple stop me from following this path I’ve chosen.”

She was about to make a joke about how it would be difficult to follow that path if his sense of direction was awful, but her eyes caught sight of the broken toaster cradled in Laura’s hands. Her attention was seized by this object and decided to suddenly change the direction of the conversation.

“Woah Laura, what happened to that toaster?”

Laura’s eyes were now pointing to the ground, appearing oddly dejected and ashamed. “The toaster may have… had a little fight with me in the dorm kitchen. So I am here to get it fixed.”

Well that was a strange way of saying she broke the device. Millium liked it though. “Hey, same! I had a little fight with the oven in the cooking club!” She giggled when Laura’s eyes lit up as if she found a companion who could deeply understand her. “Well, it was less of a fight and more of me completely neglecting it!”

“I assume that is why you are here, then?” Laura asked as she shifted her hold on the toaster. This action somehow caused the machine to make a popping noise as smoke started to rise from the device. "Ah—!"

"Young lady," Professor Lughman said, mouth twitching as if he was pained to see her further break the machine with ease. "I suggest you put that toaster down before you do more harm."

"Ri—Right!" 

Huh, now Millium understood why her file said to keep her away from technology.

Looking at Gaius, she noticed how he was holding a broken microwave. She was surprised she didn’t notice it before. “You broke something, too?”

There was something oddly soothing about the way he chuckled. “I’m afraid Laura’s also responsible for this one’s demise.” He moved to place the machine next to the toaster. “I decided to hold onto this because it kept fizzling every time she touched it.”

Oh. So Laura’s touch was literally deadly to technology? 

Maybe she should keep Lammy away from her...

“Gaius!” Laura hissed, blushing from embarrassment. It was honestly shocking and funny to see since she usually had a stoic demeanor. “You weren’t supposed to tell anyone.”

“Oh, my bad. I suppose the wind carried the words away before I could hear it.”

Millium couldn’t help but burst out of laughter. First Laura with the toaster fighting her, and now Gaius with the wind—they sure had interesting ways of saying that they made mistakes.

Laura regarded him with a serious expression. “I do recall we were in a building when I told you.”

Gaius remained unaffected by her point and seriousness, maintaining an ‘honest’ smile. “I believe there is no place where the wind doesn’t blow.”

“Okay then.” Laura’s voice was eerily calm as she crossed her arms, but her eyes were sparking with challenge. “Shall we test out your belief by sparring in the Gymnasium, hmm? We can find out if there is wind there that will carry you away from my blade .”

Sensing an impressive intimidating aura emanate from Laura, Millium figured that any lesser man would back down from the challenge.

Apparently Gaius was not a lesser man, confidently nodding as he opened the door and waited for Laura to pass through first. 

This was another thing she mentally jotted down about Class VII’s dynamics. They were protective, but they also liked fighting each other for fun! 

Millium grew excited at the idea of watching their fight, not even thinking when she grabbed Professor Lughman’s arm (who was protesting) and enthusiastically followed after them.

Hanging out with this class was so much fun!

---

After watching a very impressive spar between Laura and Gaius, Millium finally returned to the cooking club. 

(Professor Lughman had left a long time ago without her noticing.)

Then, after a long lecture from Jusis and the president of the cooking club, Millium was miraculously still allowed to join the club. She would just need supervision just in case she forgot that she was cooking something again. 

Of course, while she needed supervision to cook in the cooking club, that didn’t mean she couldn’t cook by herself at the dorms. She’d seen an interesting cookie recipe that she wanted to try out, so she decided to test it out at midnight, when everyone was supposed to be asleep. 

While she was sitting in a chair, waiting for the cookies to bake in the oven, she heard footsteps going down the stairs.

“What a coincidence that we both felt like having a late night snack at the same time.” That was Alisa’s voice.

“Haha, I suppose that’s what we get for staying up so late studying for the midterms!” Emma’s voice replied.

Millium didn’t really process most of the conversation because most of her attention was on the timer that said there was only one minute left until the cookies were done. Just as she could tell they were standing just behind the kitchen doors, she noticed that Emma started talking quietly. 

Because of the change in volume of her voice, Millium grew curious about what the girl could possibly not want anyone nearby to hear.

Straining her ears, she heard, “Alisa, can I ask you a favor?”

“Sure!”

“Can you…” Her words cut off, as if she needed time to figure out how to say her next words carefully. “Can you skip the Schoolhouse Investigation this month?”

There was a pause. Clearly, Alisa was using the time to make sense of Emma’s request. “Why?” She sounded suspicious as she carefully spoke her suspicions out loud. "Do you... like Rean?"

Millium thought that was a dumb question. It was obvious they were all friends, so of course they liked each other.

"No, that's not why—" Emma gasped, trying to order her thoughts. "I just see him as a friend." Her next words sounded uncertain and embarrassed. "Um… Do you?"

A pause. "M- Maybe…"

"Hehe, I had a feeling, honestly," Emma lightheartedly chuckled while Millium could hear the sound of a muffled scream. "I'll be rooting for you, but ah… That's not what I really want to talk about."

"...Then what?" 

Millium could picture Alisa blushing with a frown.

“This whole time, I’ve known that the Awakener was either you or Rean. You can’t exactly complete part of the trial without the candidate,” Emma chuckled nervously. “I have a feeling it’s Rean, but I can only be certain if one of you isn't there. And I can’t exactly ask Rean because he gets this task from the principal…”

Interesting. This was the first time she was hearing about this. She wasn’t unfamiliar with the term ‘Awakener,’ but she didn’t remember what it was supposed to mean. However, if it was related to Rean, then it was now part of her business to know. 

“Okay, if he asks me, I’ll decline,” Alisa sighed. "But… um… since you know that I… Would you mind if you helped me out?"

"Of course!"

The timer on the oven made a dinging noise just before the kitchen doors opened. Before they took another step, Millium leaped toward the oven and brought the cookies out.

They were perfect! Well, their smell was perfect. She’d have to taste them when they weren’t so hot.

“Millium? Weren’t you banned from the kitchen?” Alisa deadpanned at her, crossing her arms. However, she couldn’t hide how she deliberately took in the scent of freshly baked cookies. 

“No, I was banned from the kitchen in the cooking club, not this one!” she hummed as she offered them the tray of cookies. “Cookie?”

Emma gratefully nodded. “Thank you.” But then her voice suddenly sounded nervous. “Um… Did you, by any chance, hear anything?”

“Nope!” Millium chirped as she bit into a cookie, not registering how both of the girls let out sighs of relief. 

Oh man, that tasted good.

After eating half of the cookies, a thought crossed Millium’s mind. Curiously looking up at Alisa, she decided to voice her innocent question.

“Hey, so what’s this about you liking Rean?”

They blanched. 

...

She was sworn to secrecy about Alisa’s secret, though she didn’t understand why she would hide her affection. If you like a person, then just hug them! It was as simple as that!

On the bright side, she learned more about the subtle differences in relationships, so she was excited about that. 

---

The next day, Rean, Machias, and Elliot were having a study session together for the upcoming midterms. Millium tagged along, wondering if there was anything else about the class that she could learn. 

Instead, she was reminded that watching over Rean wasn’t her only mission here.

Spotting a peculiar book with Machias, she leaned closer to him to read the title. 

Marching Towards Dystopia. By M. G.

“Hey Machias, where’d you get that neat looking book from?”

Machias looked at her with eyes full of suspicion. “I don’t remember, some guy at the train station gave this to me a while ago and told me it was a good read. Why do you want to know?”

She wanted to know because that was a book that criticized Gramps’ actions in ruling the empire. 

It was also terrorist propaganda. 

Her official mission on documents was to keep an eye out for any potential spread of ‘Liberation Ideology’ among the area as well as apprehend any potential suspects related to the ILF. The reasoning behind why she was placed in this area was because many of the people here were young and so their minds were more likely to be influenced by extremist ideologies. Also, being a member of Class VII would allow her to travel around to places without being too suspicious (not like it ever stopped her before). 

“I read it before,” she smiled brightly at him. Man, it would really suck if Machias ended up being a terrorist. He was almost as fun to mess around with as Jusis was. “What did you think about it?”

Out of the corner of her eye, she saw Rean reach for the book and look through the contents with Elliot.

Machias tapped his chin with his fingers, humming as he got his thoughts in order. “It's interesting. It's claiming that the actions of the chancellor and the Intelligence Division are igniting flames that, if left unchecked, will swallow this country whole. Basically it's saying that Chancellor Osborne is sacrificing morals and peace to fix these 'turbulent times' and is hinting that this problem could potentially burn everyone in this country- in this continent.” He sighed and closed his eyes. "I see the logic and the evidence but I feel like this book's conclusion is too extreme and, with how prominent the class system is, I feel like sacrifices are necessary to fix the discrimination in this country."

Well that was good. It seemed like Machias was in no danger of being influenced by the book. 

On the side, Rean abruptly started coughing. Elliot immediately brought him a glass of water which he greedily drank. Rean then quickly reassured him that he was fine; he just had a dry throat.

“What about you? What did you think about the book?” Machias parroted her question back at her.

“Oh, I just read the part that said ‘Gramps is evil’ and just stopped.”

“It didn't even say that!”

"Well, it sounded like it did." 

And then Machias went on a lecture about how having differing opinions didn't make one evil. Millium didn't really pay attention, mostly because she knew he was right and because she was more focused on Rean and Elliot's interest in the book. Seeing them flip through another page, Millium figured it would probably not be a good idea to leave the book in their hands. 

As discreetly as possible, she summoned Lammy and attacked the book with a very weak beam.

"What the hell was that for?!" Machias looked at the burnt collection of papers in shock and pity.

...Okay, maybe she wasn't that discreet, but at least she got the job done.

Making a peace sign gesture, she smirked. "I guess Lammy just felt like sneezing!"

Before anyone could question how that was even possible, a light voice spoke up behind her.

“Hello Class VII. How’s studying for midterms going?” 

They all looked around to see a petite, brown-haired girl. If Millium remembered correctly, she was Towa, the president of the Student Council.

“Not great,” Elliot sighed, resting his head on the book he was supposed to be reviewing. “I really don’t know how all this information is going to stay in my head…”

“That’s why I’m just going to cram it all in my head last minute!” Millium chirped, totally planning on procrastinating her studies. After all, her priority was watching these people, not reading a bunch of text.

Machias shook his head in exasperation. “Please don’t tell me you’re one of those types who barely study and manage to get a perfect score.”

“Hehe, who knows? Maybe I’ll outscore both you and Jusis!”

“Well that would be one way to destroy my pride and confidence,” he gritted his teeth as his eyes suddenly sparked with determination. “I better study so that doesn’t happen.”

Seeing him focus intently on the school papers out of desire to make sure he wasn’t beaten had a strange effect on Millium. She wouldn’t call herself a competitive person, especially in academics, but for some reason she kind of wanted to beat Machias just to spite him. Maybe she should ask Lechter for an answer key?

Unfortunately, before she resolved to make plans to cheat, Towa’s voice broke her away from her thoughts. 

“Rean?”

Her attention snapped to the black-haired boy who was looking oddly blank. Again, she had the unexplainable feeling that he was upset or something. Slowly, he blinked, regaining awareness of his surroundings.

“Oh, I’m sorry Towa. I was thinking about school a bit too much.” His smile seemed a little strange but she couldn’t quite figure out why. “What did you say?”

She shot him a brief concerned look. “Try not to push yourselves too hard. Studying is important, but so is your health.” Slowly, her frown was replaced by a smile. “And what I said was that Angie, Crow, George, and I are planning on throwing a celebration picnic for Class VII after midterms. Can I count on you to ask if everyone will be okay with that?”

“Ooh, yeah! I’m definitely okay with that!” Millium cheered, raising her hand with enthusiasm. Spending time with these people AND eating food? That sounded amazing!

With a little less enthusiasm (only because Millium had too much), Elliot nodded with anticipation. “Yeah, I’d look forward to something like that!”

Begrudgingly, Machias nodded. “I’d prefer it if Alberea wasn’t there, but I’ll deal with it.”

“Got it, I’ll ask the others as soon as I can. “ Rean chuckled, a sound that also sounded a bit weird to her. “But I don’t really think anyone will decline as long as they’re not busy.”

Towa clapped her hands together in joy. “Thank you, Rean!”

“...No problem.”

The sound of those two words made Millium furrow her eyebrows in confusion. There was something oddly familiar about the way he said that, and she had a feeling it was related to how she could somehow sense something ‘off’ about him.

Did she meet Rean somewhere before?

Unfortunately, before she could voice her question, he left the building in search of their other classmates.

She shrugged, figuring she could ask him later.

 

(She did. And he said that they didn’t.)

(Weird.)

---

As another week passed by, there was one extremely weird thing that Millium noticed. It was that there was a particular student who would hang around Rean when she wasn’t around. Every time she was looking for Rean, she would see this student (who she was not familiar with) energetically talking with him with an arm slung over his shoulder, looking fairly close.

She thought she had seen all of Rean’s close relationships in this school, but she guessed she was wrong. What was even weirder, however, was that this student would quickly leave every time she approached the pair. And whenever she tried to look for this student, she would have little luck in actually finding him and getting information from him. 

She wondered if it was all a coincidence…

Anyway, most of the information she could get on this student was second-hand. 

“You want to know about Crow?” Rean tilted his head curiosity and in suspicion, wanting to know why Millium was interested in the gray-haired student. “Why?”

“Why not?” Millium replied with a pout before it turned into a cheerful grin. “He seems like a cool guy. I wanna be friends with him!”

To her surprise, Rean stared at her with a very flat expression, as if thinking about this Crow person was uninteresting or gave him pain he wanted to hide. 

Interesting. She rarely saw him with this kind of face unless Sara really messed up with her responsible adult image. 

“He’s a slacker.” His voice was amusingly monotone (which was weird because Rean was rarely monotone, especially when talking about other people). “He cons people out of money, he pushes his tasks onto other people, he gambles even though he’s not allowed, and he cheats at Blade.”

Millium almost laughed at seeing this bizarre side to him. Never would she have thought that she would see the day he bad-mouthed someone. 

(Though she wondered if he was even aware of what he was doing.)

What was also funny was how Rean described a person who acted just like Lechter when he was in school (at least, according to Claire’s stories). Slacker... gambler… probably looked out for underclassmen too, based on what she heard from others. The two seemed a lot alike, well… except this Crow seemed to be lacking the whole “genius” and “I lead a double-life” thing.

She was about to ask more questions, but then she noticed some person approach them, calling Rean out with an irritated voice.

"Rean!"

Millium noted the slight sigh Rean masked under his breath before he turned to warmly greet the new arrival. She had a feeling that he didn't really like this person.

“Good afternoon, Alphonse. How are you feeling?”

"Drop the fake act." This Alphonse guy stomped until he was an arms length away from Rean. You know I'm obviously feeling terrible after you snitched on me!"

Ooh… Is this what Lechter meant when he said she would inevitably encounter ~juicy~ school drama?

"I… what?"

Alphonse scowled as he furiously grabbed Rean's collar and slightly pulled him up, forcing him to stand on his toes. Millium was suddenly not happy with what she was witnessing, her body tensing up and getting ready for action if needed.

"Feigning ignorance is pointless, Rean," he more or less spat the name out like it was venom. "How dare you lie to the faculty about our tea accident?!"

Rean only looked genuinely confused. "I didn't say anythi—"

"LIES! Neithardt learned about it and told Heinrich and our dear principal about it. You're lucky I was able to tell them the honest truth that it was just an accident or else you would have ruined my reputation!"

Millium tilted her head at the noble in deep confusion, asking, "Well, your reputation isn't ruined, so what's your problem?"

"My problem is that he is sabotaging me!"

"But you said it was an accident?" Her face was all scrunched up, gears turning at full speed to understand this guy’s logic. “That’s not exactly sabotaging; I would know, I’ve helped sabotage people before!”

“Tsk! I doubt a child would understand, though…” The noble’s eyes flicked down to her body before returning to sneer at Rean. “I see Class VII’s curriculum is so simple that even children can join.”

If Millium cocked her head any more, she’d probably break her neck. “Is that supposed to be an insult?” She was genuinely confused and, judging by Rean’s I-have-no-idea-how-to-react face, he had no answers either.

“Of course it is!” 

“But why?”

“Because I hate you all!”

“But we just met!”

The noble growled but didn’t say anything more, deciding that an argument with Millium was pointless. Instead, he shifted his attention back to Rean, who looked unusually more serious than usual. 

“Whatever, brat! Just leave, I have business with your classmate!”

Millium stuck her tongue out childishly. “Well, too bad! I was with Rean first, so my business with him takes priority! Claire always told me that polite people always wait their turn!!”

(That being said, Millium didn’t consider herself a polite person by that standard, hehe.)

“Brat! I’ve been waiting and I’m at the end of my patience! Leave us!” 

Millium’s eyes narrowed slightly. What did that mean? Was that related to why this was the first time she saw this student interact with Rean despite how these two clearly had a history?

“That’s a terrible way of saying please, you catastrophically weird weird person!”

Ha! She was sure Jusis would be proud of her for using such a sophisticated insult! She even got bonus points for how her phrase even drew a chuckle from Rean, whose shoulders visibly eased up!

“Shut up!” Alphonse was red in the face and redirected his attention to Rean, jabbing a finger against his chest. “Your so-called friends are like an annoying swarm of gnats, following you everywhere! I bet they won’t stay for long once I dig up your dirt and show everyone! Once they know, I bet they’ll ostracize you, and then it wouldn’t be that long for the Schwarzers to follow!”

Rean’s expression tightened, but he said nothing to give away any more about what he thought about the threat. So, Millium spoke for him once again.

“Good luck with that! I already dug up his dirt and found nothing! Haha!”

A pair of suspicious lilac eyes stared at her. “Millium? Any reason you had for looking up my records?”

She innocently beamed at him. “Just curious!”

He sighed in response. 

“Tsk!” Alphonse shoved Rean away and turned around. “Mark my words, Rean! I’ll expose every dark secret of yours and not even that naive little girl will be blind enough to still stand with you! You’ll see!”

And the noble trotted off away, all by himself. 

“Well, that Alphonse guy sounds like he hates your guts!” Millium cheerily stated the obvious, thinking a little humor would break Rean out of the faraway look in his eyes. He didn't react in the way she wanted him to, eyebrows pinched and lips still stretched into a frown.

Man, that Alphonse guy really ruined the mood! Now Rean was all withdrawn and upset, as opposed to the funny sarcastic deadpan he had on earlier.

How to bring that side of him back…

"So, about what we were talking about earlier…" Millium lightly bounced on her feet, slightly wondering if she could share some of her positive energy with her classmate. "According to you, it kinda sounds like Crow's a bad guy!"

Rean sighed and cracked a small smile, gratefully taking this opportunity to distract himself from Alphonse. "He’s not a bad guy, per se… It’s more like that he’s pretty lame.” 

“Hey now, Rean! Are you ruining my reputation? I call foul play here!” A new voice spoke from behind them. They turned to see the gray-haired student approach them, carrying a bag over his shoulder as he pouted. “I’m cool and I can be a responsible student, too! Just go ask Towa, she’ll confirm that I did my homework today!”

Rean’s smile vanished, replaced by a serious look, as he crossed his arms. “Angelica told me you copied off Towa’s work.”

Crow rolled his eyes, now smirking as he dropped the bag to the ground. “Wow, trying to discredit my accomplishments, hm?”

“Ah, no. My intent was only to dish out the truth.”

“Yeah, and it came with the side dish of ruining my image," Crow muttered, missing no beat. "You just can’t rest without sassing me, huh? I mean, I admire that I have a friend who will always tell me the truth no matter how much it hurts me…” Mockingly, he put a hand over his chest as if he was heart-broken. “...like… really hurts.”

At once, Rean stiffened. A negative emotion Millium couldn’t explain flashed through those widened eyes as he immediately bowed his head down in apology. “I didn’t mean to—I’m sorry.”

Crow seemed unfazed by this reaction, expression not changing from his relaxed smirk. Millium watched with interest how the gray-haired teen reached his hand out to playfully ruffle Rean’s raven hair. “Don’t sweat it, it’s good pain.”

“Good… pain?” Rean raised his head up, eyebrows scrunched in confusion as he watched Crow wink at him. 

“Wow Crow, I didn’t take you for a masochist!” Millium butt into the conversation, curiosity taking a hold of her. “I’ll be sure to put that in your profile!”

(Oh wait, she was probably not supposed to say that? Oh well, a few mistakes here and there weren’t going to hurt her!)

“Now hold on a moment there, Shortstack!” There was a mischievous glint in Crow’s eyes as he cupped his own chin with his fist, mocking the gesture of being deep in thought. “How about you put: Charming, good-looking, and fun instead?” He playfully tilted his head to the raven, eyes trying to encourage some support. “Come on, Rean. Agree with me here?”

His only response was a deadpan.

“Help a guy out here!” Crow pleaded, nudging the other’s elbow. 

More silence.

Well, since she was currently building the profile right now, she figured she might as be bold and ask the question that was bugging her from watching their interaction. With bright eyes and an amused grin, she asked, “What’s your relationship with Rean?”

Rean tilted his head in innocent confusion. “We’re…” His eyes narrowed as his lips were pulled into a genuine frown. “...Friends.”

“Oi, why did you look so pained to say that?! You’re breaking my heart here.” Crow dramatically sighed before he turned to look back at Millium. “But you heard the man. We’re just pals.”

And Millium left it at that because she still didn’t really understand human relationships that well. Though she had to admit, there was something fishy with how Rean seemed to be more playful around this guy than around his classmates. Well, she did hear about how it was sometimes easier to show strangers some things, so maybe it was something along those lines.

“Anyway, Shortstack…” The mischievous smirk was back on Crow’s face. “Wanna see a little trick?”

Ooh, she liked tricks! Maybe all the times he had to leave early really were coincidence, or else he wouldn’t be acting so friendly. “Show me!”

“Got a 50 mira coin I could borrow?”

To the side, Rean let out a sigh. “ Borrow , right?”

Crow snorted as he pushed him away. “Yeah, I know what I said. Now go away, I haven’t shown you the trick yet, so I don’t want you to get yourself spoiled.”

Rean immediately protested. “I’m not going to just let you steal from another of my classma—”

“Don’t worry, Rean!” Millium piped up, eyes full of confidence, as she tossed Crow a coin. “If he tries anything, I’ll just call Lammy to blast him!”

Hesitant eyes rested on her for a while before he made his decision. “Okay…” Rean said as he slowly walked away. 

Once he was out of sight, Millium beamed at Crow. “Now show me what you got!”

He did. And Millium saw through the trick immediately, seeing the coin drop into the bag.

However, when he congratulated her for not falling for the trick, he picked up the bag and left. Millium smiled to herself, proud.

Until she finally realized that Crow took her money with her.

And then she remembered how Lechter said her allowance was cut down, and so she didn’t have much money left for the month. 

Summoning Lammy, she immediately chased him down to get her change back.

...

(She was successful.)

---

“ So this class is like a dysfunctional family, ” Lechter’s voice concluded from the ARCUS’ speaker. “ I guess that’s good for him… ”

“Yep!”

“ And Rean seems to be doing well, except for the fact that he has a lot of secret admirers who’ll probably have their hearts broken, knowing him. ” 

Millium tilted her head in confusion. “You know him?”

“ Yeah, we’ve chatted a few times. ” She could envision him waving her off at the other end of the call.  After a short pause, he asked with all seriousness, “ How about mentally or emotionally? Is he okay in those regards? ”

What a silly question. “I dunno, I can’t read his mind.”

She heard a fond sigh. “ I meant if you’ve caught onto some strange behavior from him. ”

Humming for a bit to gather her thoughts, she said, “No, not really. Though I guess that’s because everything about him is weird, and so like everything weird becomes normal, right?”

“ Not exactly, but I get what you mean. ” A pause. “ Good work out there. Keep me posted next month .” 

“Will do! Oh, but Lecther… What’s the reason for us keeping an eye on him anyway? Is he going to be an Ironblood too? Am I going to be a big sister?”

There was a long silence. After what seemed like a long amount of time, she heard the sound of a loud exhale. 

“ Actually Millium, there’s probably something you should know for this mission. But I can't really tell you, so I'll give you a hint. Make sure you promise to keep this a secret, okay? ”

“Promise!”

Another sigh. As if Lechter was going to regret saying this. “ Well, Rean’s… ”

Notes:

Haha, we got the conclusion to Bareahard, but we ain’t stopping!

Thank you to everyone who talked about what kind of update schedule they preferred and encouraged me to do whatever I felt like! For now, I’ll try to update at least once a month (it really depends on how long these chapters become).

Take note how Ishmelga speaks in chapter 6. Relate that to what Rean’s thoughts look like at certain times. Ishmelga’s not directly influencing his thoughts or feelings but… uh… just keep it in mind.

Funny how I wrote Millium’s POV before Alisa and Elliot’s. It was fun writing the parts where she assumed that Rean couldn’t be Osborne’s son or that Crow didn’t have a secret identity. Ah, she’s really going to feel like an idiot when those truths come to light. Also, question: How well do you think Millium would do in the Midterms? I don’t know whether to put her as “surprisingly knows a lot,” “not her thing but does well,” or “asks Lechter to find the answer key for her.”

I hope you all noticed the colossal amount of foreshadowing and red flags that will make things "fun" for Class VII, especially Rean. I welcome any and all thoughts about that!

Take care and I'd appreciate a comment!

Also, I’ll start teasing the title of whatever chapter comes next because some of them will definitely get you to think… :3

Next Time: Chapter 12 - Two Voices

Chapter 12: Two Voices

Notes:

Here's August's Chapter!

“For goddess’ sake, I used to work with the Church! Of course I know how wrong it is to kill someone out of selfishness, even if that someone is Chancellor Osborne! But you know what? I don’t care how wrong or illogical it is! All I care about is that I'm sad and angry and I want him to pay for making me feel this way! It’s as simple as that!”

“If you follow this path, you’ll...”

“Like I said, I don’t care! I’m basically dead anyway!”

“Do dead people have emotions? Do dead people think and make goals?”

“...”

“Chancellor Osborne may have taken away your home, but he didn’t take away your life. You are still alive. Which means you can still make choices to change your future.”

“Well, my choice is killing him. I’ll have no regrets”

“...Even if it means betraying yourself?”

---

Scarlet hated to admit it, but those words from the Ashen Saint got to her. While it wasn’t enough for her to quit the ILF, it was enough to get her thinking about who she was. About what she wanted to do without being blinded by rage. 

She... always wanted to be a squire. When she finally achieved that rank, she was ecstatic. She wrote letters to her family about how she finally reached this milestone and they planned to throw a party for her. They sounded so happy for her in their letters. So happy…

But then Osborne decided to build a railroad through it. 

And then her family was not happy anymore. In fact, they were gone. She no longer had a family and it was all his fault. 

(She didn’t want to think that the bonds of her family were so weak that one simple steel construction could break it. It was a hard truth. One that she had no intention of facing any time soon.)

Anyway, the Ashen Saint had a point. She could still technically go back and live the life she had always wanted back then—just without the happy family part. Even now, a part of herself didn’t want to give up her dwindling dreams.

However, the vengeful hatred and loneliness was still building up in her heart. If she didn’t take her revenge, then what else could she do with this endless anguish and resentment? She had emotions, was there anything wrong with wanting to express her emotions?

The answer was yes. The Church had told her that acting on certain impulses would only destroy their lives. They had shown her there were other, healthier, ways to deal with her emotions.

...

This was frustrating. 

Ever since that talk with the Ashen Saint, there had basically been two voices in her head. One was Scarlet, the squire. The other was S, the terrorist. They both argued and told her two different things. Oftentimes, she found herself confused. She didn’t know who to listen to. She didn’t know if her hatred was worth destroying her old dream. 

For now, she stayed with the ILF. Staying around them and their collective hatred for Chancellor Osborne made her feel more certain of her path. 

Sometimes, however, she strongly questioned her convictions when she was around them. Especially when Gideon expressed interest in using that Demonic Flute.

She knew what that was. It was an artifact. 

A dangerous artifact. 

And artifacts should be in custody of the Church. 

That was Squire Scarlet talking in her mind again and she couldn’t really ignore it this time. That flute could cause danger to the ILF and their goals. She wouldn’t be betraying Terrorist Scarlet for wanting it to go away. 

She had told C and G about her concerns, but they brushed her off. C seemed to underestimate the potential the artifact could have while G reasoned that this tool could only benefit their cause. 

And, well, she gave up trying to convince them. 

Hopefully, the artifact wouldn’t backfire on them.

Since then, Squire Scarlet was silent. 

...

Until Rufus Albarea appeared in front of her and seemed to have read her mind (to this day, she still had no idea how). He apparently gained knowledge that they were using this artifact, and he expressed his concerns about the flute’s danger. 

(Whether they were genuine concerns, she had no idea. If they weren’t, then this man had one hell of a convincing mask.)

They made a deal. Scarlet would tell him the detailed specifics about their plan in Celdic while Rufus would leak G’s location at that time to the RMP so they could confiscate it. She didn’t feel too concerned about why he wanted to know; after all, they were closely working with the Albarea’s provincial army with the plan anyway. She was, however, uneasy about the part with G.

Rufus reasoned that a man as cunning as him should be able to escape even the Icy Maiden. If they were lucky, the RMP would at least be able to destroy the flute during their pursuit. Reluctantly, she agreed; she believed in G’s abilities and she just wanted that flute to be gone. 

The plan obviously failed. Not only did G keep his flute but he also destroyed a train. To this, Scarlet had mixed feelings because one, G was right: There was something pleasant in seeing the railway that took away her home somewhat destroyed. At the same time, that could have ended much worse. That beast could have gone and destroyed the nearby farm which reminded her of her own destroyed home.

And so, Scarlet decided to take matters into her own hands.

 

She stole the damned flute.

 

And ran all the way to Bareahard to give it to Rufus because there was no way she was going to step foot inside a Church while she had so much internal conflict going on (it already felt impossible to wear the damned nun outfit).  Perhaps she shouldn’t have easily trusted Rufus with the flute, considering how it was pretty common for nobles to abuse whatever artifacts they found. However, she wasn’t in the right state of mind at the time and figured he would just toss it to the church or the RMP.

(Maybe she should've destroyed the flute instead.)

Oh well. At least it was gone.

“You seem like you’re in a good mood today, S,” V greeted her, joining her at a table in one of their secret bases. 

“You could say that,” she inconspicuously hummed as she took a sip from her glass of water. This action earned her a raised eyebrow, but V didn’t comment further on it. 

Everything was all good now…

“Where is it? WHERE IS THE FLUTE?” G practically screamed, bursting into the room before pacing around the table.. 

Scarlet and V shot each other concerned looks while C chose that moment to enter. “What are you looking for?”

“His flute, apparently,” Scarlet shrugged, picking up a small wooden box and inspecting it very carefully. “G, where do you think you lost it?”

“I didn’t lose it, it was stolen from me!” he snarled and threw the box full of first-aid equipment against the wall. “I’m telling you, we have a damned mole!”

“Yes, I’m still working on finding out who it is,” C replied before he fixed the mess. 

“Well, I hope you find out soon, or else this mole might ruin all of our plans!”

Scarlet had no trouble hiding her inner turmoil, but she did feel incredibly bad for stressing her companions and giving C unnecessary work. There was no mole among their ranks. There was only a woman who felt offended by the artifact’s existence. However, she felt bad for G the most because, ever since the Celdic incident, he seemed more… flighty and unhinged. 

After thirty minutes of searching, G seemed to let his impatience get the better of him. “Damn it all to hell!” his fingers reached up to dig into his scalp. “Without that flute, I’m useless!”

"Calm down. You're not." C's voice was sharp and ended any other protest from G. Their leader crossed his arms and leaned back on a wall. "You know, it's not too late for you to learn how to pilot a Panzer Soldat."

G huffed, not interested in the suggestion. "You know I'm terrible in battle, which is why I need that flute."

Thoughtfully, V chose that moment to speak up. “Piloting a Panzer Soldat actually requires a lot of strategy. I think it would suit someone as crafty as you. C, S, and I are always willing to give you pointers.” 

“Having another pilot would be very beneficial,” C added. “I’ve seen the Noble Alliance pilots, and if I have to be honest, they all suck.”

“It doesn’t matter since we already have the technological advantage. It still won’t be easy for a tank to take down an inexperienced Panzer Soldat pilot.”

“True, however…” C was now humming, giving himself time to organize his thoughts. “There are certain people who can manage to take down a Soldat even without a tank. Plus… I have suspicions that someone at my school will be getting a Divine Knight like mine. Even though he’ll be severely inexperienced when the time comes… I wouldn’t underestimate him.”

“Do you seriously believe a single newbie pilot with a fancy robot will be a threat to us?” G’s voice was exasperated. 

C shrugged. “Just saying. I’ll definitely look forward to the challenge, if it ever comes.”

Huh. Were Scarlet’s ears deceiving her or did C sound like he was looking forward to something that wasn’t related to Gilliath Osborne’s death? How peculiar…

G crossed his arms, scoffing. "Hm, I guess I'll consider it."

“Anyway,” C coughed, bringing attention to a more important matter. “G, since you don’t have a reliable means to protect yourself, bring a gun with you on your next mission in Nord Highlands.” His head turned to face Scarlet; she could feel an intense, yet thoughtful stare pierce through from his helmet.

For a moment, she was wary, wondering if he was suspicious of her being the supposed ‘mole’.

“You’re going with him, too, S.”

Oh, that was fine then. 

She nodded. It was only fair after what she did to G's flute. 

 

---

---

 

His classmates were dangerous.

Having nearly more than one emotional breakdown from hearing their words alone was proof of it. 

It didn’t help that Millium suddenly joined the class and was absorbing who knew what kind information about him. Well, he doubted that her mission was to specifically keep an eye on him because nothing about him was special in relation to Intelligence Division affairs, but he knew she was here to obtain some kind of information. Because of her, he had to stop his nightly activity of trying to use fire, fearing that she would find out. 

It was weird, he felt like he was in some sort of weird limbo, being pushed to and pulled away from his so-called friends. He still liked being around them. The thought of—dare he say it— belonging with them was a bit too tempting for his selfish side, and it grew even more difficult to resist since Bareahard. However, the actual concept of him belonging to a group made him feel uncomfortable.

Because of this, he started to make an effort to avoid Class VII whenever he could. Of course, this effort was mostly futile, considering how he didn’t let himself refuse to help any of his classmates when they were in need or stop himself from being dragged into one of Millium’s adventures. 

...It was also really difficult to avoid them when hanging out with them apparently made them smile. He could say for certain that he was around them a little bit less than usual; however, it was only a bit.

He was lucky for most of this month because he could always say he wanted to focus on studying rather than chatting, allowing him to refuse some of his classmates' invitations to hang out or eat together unless they were group study sessions. Now that midterms were over, Rean had to find some other activity that could keep him busy, so he decided becoming a tutor for someone outside Class VII would help.

Though… When he asked Towa to help him find someone to tutor, he didn’t expect that his tutee would be a second-year. 

“Crow, at this rate, you’re not going to graduate,” Rean said flatly, mercilessly grabbing the scandalous magazine from the other’s hands and shoving it under a binder of material they had to go through. 

The only reason this strange arrangement was allowed to happen was because Crow was already retaking his first year of history and needed the most help on the subject while history just happened to be Rean’s best subject—which was no surprise because he’d wanted to know everything about his dad’s past life and the country he helped build. It was somewhat of a perfect match, despite how unorthodox it was. 

And that was how they found themselves in Class VII’s dormitory, using the empty room just across from Rean’s just to study. 

Crow snickered, lightly tapping his fingers on the table in a rhythmic pattern. “Heh, maybe I’ll have to redo another year so I can join your class and bother you even more~”

“Wow, how flattering. Keep this up, and I think I might just fall in love with you,” he deadpanned, barely able to hide his smile when Crow complained about his sarcasm. 

“Hey, what happened to the nice first-year who had cute and honest reactions to teasing?”

“Probably disappeared with the reliable second-year who didn’t need to be tutored by a first-year to graduate.”

Crow was a handful when it came to studying. Rean couldn’t completely play nice if he wanted him to graduate. 

(Unknowingly, while he had been keeping his guard up around his classmates, he accidentally let his guard down around this guy.)

Rean took a sip out of his glass of water as he flipped through the pages of the history textbook. In his head, he was thinking about how difficult this task would be, especially if this slacker kept slacking. He knew that even though Crow did well in the midterms, he would still be in danger of failing.

“Give me a break, man! We just finished midterms and we’re about to have our celebration later today!” Crow leaned back on the chair, balancing on only two of the chair legs, as a mischievous glint crossed his eyes. “I know just the perfect thing to do for a break… Can I finally show you my fifty mira trick?”

He shook his head in exasperation. “Aren’t you worried about the future?” Rean certainly was. He was especially dreading the point in the future where he would have to ditch all his friends. 

Funny, considering he felt like their careless kindness to him was suffocating him. He should’ve wanted to get away from them permanently. But he didn’t, because he liked them.

He wanted to stay with them.

Those stupid thoughts—That stupid voice that started back in Bareahard was annoying him again. He tried his best to keep his eyes focused on the student in front of him. 

“I don’t know what the future holds,” Crow shrugged, letting the chair drop to all four legs as he leaned on the table with his elbow. “Which is why I want to enjoy the present, especially since I know what’s in front of me right now.”

Rean raised an eyebrow, intrigued by the different perspective, but he pointed their attention to the school material. “Yeah, like these papers you should be studying.”

“Or maybe…”

Lilac eyes narrowed, noticing that Crow was leaning toward him, face moving closer to his own. This was a bit too close again and he was reminded of the first time they had met. 

Trying to read his intent, he directly looked into Crow’s crimson eyes, only just realizing how intense and deep they were. For a moment, he was mesmerized by the look, briefly torn away from his less comfortable thoughts. 

“...I’m talking about you.”

His head tilted in genuine confusion, ignoring how his heart seemed to skip a beat for some strange reason. “I don’t see what’s so enjoyable about being forced to study here by me.”

To his amusement, Crow leaned back in his chair, slumping and face-palming in disappointment as if he should’ve expected this reaction. 

“Um, are you okay?”

Crimson eyes stared flatly but his lips were pulled into a smirk. “Rean, you are one tough nut to crack, but I’ll gladly accept the challenge because I have nothing else to do!”

“I have no idea what you’re talking about, but you do have something to do: studying.”

A sigh fell from Crow's lips. “I bet you’re fun at parties.”

Reading the sarcasm, Rean’s lacking competitive spirit seemed to flare up for a moment. He didn’t want this guy to have the last word.

“I bet your grades are having parties right now.”

He wasn’t sure if this was the right thing to say because Crow mischievously grinned and that was never a good sign for anyone around the trickster. 

Watching the older teen open his mouth in retort, Rean shifted his weight on his chair and— 

Jumped.

A powerful chill suddenly crawled up his spine, causing him to shiver in place. He ignored how the chair had fallen from his sudden movements, eyes darting around to see what was causing this sensation. 

Up. He could sense something ominous on the third floor.

He noted that Crow was looking at him uneasily while asking what was wrong, but Rean couldn’t even answer when an awful sound suddenly stole their attention. 

It sounded like a scream. A terror-stricken scream.

Rean’s hand was already on the knob of the door, twisting it to open the door and step into the hallway. 

Not long after, there was another scream, though it was pitched differently from the first, echoing from upstairs. 

“WHAT THE HELL IS THAT!?”

Unmistakably, that was Machias’ voice. Promptly, Rean heard multiple loud steps shuffle on the floor upstairs as he caught sight of four of his classmates scrambling down the stairs. 

“Rean!” He was suddenly caught in Millium’s tight embrace. Looking at her face, he saw terror that didn’t suit the usually positive girl. “The-there’s a ghost!”

“A ghost?” Crow repeated, disbelieving, as he walked up to Rean’s side. “You sure you aren't just imagining things?”

“Um… I don’t think multiple people can hallucinate the same thing,” Elliot nervously spoke up as he gestured to him, Machias and Fie. Rean noted that everyone in this hallway were the only people who were preoccupying the dorm at the moment; the others had already left to attend to their clubs or other business—

Wait.

He could sense an unfamiliar presence downstairs, as well as a chilling, inhumane presence upstairs.

This was… extremely concerning. 

“I tried stabbing it,” Fie shrugged, seemingly nonchalant, but there was a small bead of sweat rolling down from her forehead. “Didn’t work, so it’s probably a ghost.”

In her state of panic, Millium helpfully added, “LAMMY’S PUNCH PHASED THROUGH IT!” 

“Oh.” Was Crow’s extremely intelligent response. He turned to face Rean, looking betrayed. “Hey, you should’ve told me this place was haunted before I agreed to study here with you.”

“THAT’S ALL YOU HAVE TO SAY?” Machias screamed, more out of exasperation than out of fear this time. Taking a short, deep breath, he hissed. “We need to get out of here!”

Fie frowned. “No, we need to beat it up or else our dorm’s gonna be haunted forever.”

“HOW?!”

“M-maybe we can ask Emma to perform an exorcism?” Elliot asked, nervously rubbing the back of his neck.

“Pretty sure the church handles exorcisms.”

“THEN LET’S GO TO THE CHURCH!”

Letting go of Millium and walking past the group to stand between them and the stairs, Rean calmly pointed to the stairs, seeing a wisp of black smoke, loosely shaping the body of a tall human with long limbs and long fingers. It was kind of reminiscent of Ishmelga’s intangible form, but Rean could tell the two had no direct relation to each other. 

“It might be too late for that,” he said, waiting a moment for all the eyes to look at where he was pointing at. 

“Damn, that’s actually a ghost.”

A moment later, the lights flickered off, swallowing them in darkness. This was strange, considering it was morning and they were in a hallway that had a window connected directly to the outside. Perhaps they had been inflicted with blind but didn’t notice?

This prompted Millium to panic more, grabbing onto Crow now. “WE’RE ALL GONNA DIE!!”

“We can jump out the window,” Fie suggested. 

"Uh, Fie, not everyone can jump off two stories without breaking their bones."

“Guys, about the window thing? Yeahhh, I don’t see one.”

“What the hell?! Windows don’t just disappear!”

Rean chuckled even though it was highly inappropriate for the situation. His friends' reactions were comical, despite how scary the situation was supposed to be.

But, this was actually serious, wasn’t it? There was a ghost here who may be dangerous to his friends, but he didn’t entirely know because it didn’t seem to attack anyone yet. It was just floating there and staring at them with glowing vermillion orbs. 

It was eerie, yet Rean only felt calm and tired around its presence. He had a feeling it wasn't dangerous, well, dangerous to his friends. 

“Has anyone tried using arts on it?” he asked, keeping his eyes trained on this thing . 

“Negative.”

“I, uh, didn’t want to damage the building.”

Machias sighed, still unnerved but slightly calmer because the ghost didn’t seem to be doing anything. “Elliot, I think our lives take priority over preventing property damage.”

“Okay then. What should I..?”

“BURN IT WITH FIRE!” Millium screeched, hiding behind Crow’s arm.

“Please don’t.” Rean had one too many experiences with burning buildings. He didn’t need another.

Thankfully, Elliot already planned on not granting Millium’s wish. He raised his orbal wand and waved it at the ghost, attacking it with orbal-energy infused bubbles. Seeing the art explode upon contact with the ghost, Rean noticed it slightly flinched but made no other reaction. 

His next train of thought was to attack it again until it died or disappeared or whatever, but that thought seemed wrong. He was okay with killing for food and material, or out of self-defense and protection. But here, they would only be killing it for existing.

And, well, that realization brought back bad memories. 

Before anyone made a move to attack it again, Rean took one step closer to the ghost, gaining confused and worried looks from his classmates.

“Do you need anything?” Rean asked the ghost with a small smile. He could hear his classmates hissing at him and questioning his sanity.

“Rean, you can’t seriously—”

And then the ghost started to raise one of its long, wispy arms, curling its fingers except the index finger which remained straight. 

It was pointing at them.

“It’s gonna eat us!” Millium sobbed while summoning Lammy to punch it without inflicting any damage again. 

No, actually, Rean had a feeling it was only pointing at him .

In an instant, the ghost suddenly moved forward, reaching out to Rean with both its long arms. He couldn’t react in time, still processing its goal and wondering the motive behind the goal. Fortunately, Fie pushed him out of the way quickly and they both fell to the floor with a loud thud. 

One moment later, the creature was knocked over by… something. It was hard to tell in the darkness, but Rean was suddenly alerted of the other presence he had sensed in this building.

All of a sudden, there was light again, filtering from the window that reappeared and the orbal lights installed on the ceiling. They were all in their exact positions as before, sans Rean and Fie who were on the floor, while the ghost was nowhere to be seen.

However, the ghost was the least of their worries now. With bated breaths, they watched a strange purple-haired woman in a maid outfit walk up the stairs like nothing was wrong. 

“Now who the hell is this?!” Machias exclaimed, still not having regained his composure. Rean had the same question, only because something about her appearance reminded him of some notes he’d read before. 

Defensively, Fie’s grip on her gunblades tightened as everyone else curiously and apprehensively watched the maid curtsy onto the final step to their floor. 

Smiling, she bowed.  "My name is Sharon.” She looked up at them with warm, dutiful eyes.  “I was sent here to serve you, courtesy of the Reinford family.”

Also known as Enforcer IX, Rean’s mind supplemented. 

---

“Bye everyone! It was delightful to meet you all! I hope you all have fun at your celebration!” Sharon waved at his classmates who were exiting the dorms with expressions that were only slightly less baffled than earlier. Once the door closed behind the last of them, she turned to face him with her usual smile. 

It turned out that Sharon was the new caretaker of the dorm and the strange presence he had noticed since the ghost had arrived.  She had been preparing food for the celebration—that she somehow knew about even though Alisa didn’t know she was here and no one else could’ve told her—and was minding her own business until she sensed killing intent. She rushed up to the second floor when she saw the ghost and attacked it with a quick soul blur, taking note that everyone else was inflicted with blind until the ghost disappeared. 

As for the ghost… No one could figure out where it came from, why it was here, or where it went. Nearly everyone reluctantly dropped the issue because they couldn’t do anything about it other than inform the school. Millium, however, made everyone promise to keep their doors unlocked so she could sneak into their beds for comfort or else she would just smash through their wall.

“Now then, Master Rean, did you need something?”

He had to sweat-drop at the title. He’d be uncomfortable with it if she didn’t give the rest of his classmates the same title. “Um…” He scratched his cheek, getting nervous. “Do you happen to know about me?”

Sharon tilted her head innocently. “My, how could I know you if I haven’t met you until today?”

True, they had never met before. However, the members of Ouroboros were kind of gossipy, so he wouldn’t be surprised if she heard of him. Especially since nearly everyone in that secret society liked Lianne in some form and were willing to attempt to find out about her private life.

(To be fair, if Rean wasn’t a complete mess and idiot, he would’ve never been discovered by some members of Ouroboros.)

“I mean if you heard about me from…” Since Sharon seemed insistent on acting like she had no ties to Ouroboros for the moment, he decided he would only get answers with vague, careful wording. “...From an acquaintance.”

“Oh, then yes. I do have information about you from a little tea party I had long ago. I believe his words were: Oho, would you believe me if I found another charming young lad who welcomed me with a sharp knife? First Joshua, then Renne, you, and now this boy. I wonder if he’ll become an enforcer, too? It does seem like a ritual for initiation among our younger members now… ”

It wasn’t hard for him to imagine Bleublanc and Sharon having a tea party together. The picture just seemed right. What was hard to believe, however, was how he could share the experience of nearly stabbing Bleublanc with Alisa’s maid.

Life was certainly surreal.

“Will you tell anyone about that?”

“Only if Lady Alisa requests it. Right now, I am the caretaker of Class VII’s dorms and you are a member of Class VII that I must take care of.”

And the chances of that were currently zero, considering she probably didn’t even know what Ouroboros was. Okay. That was a relie—

His thoughts skidded to a halt once he processed the final bit of her words. To be called a member of Class VII sounded like he...

...belonged.

Ugh, it was the voice again. 

Again, he ignored it. 

“Thanks Sharon.”

“My pleasure, Master Rean. Now then, I will bring the baskets of food to the midterms celebration that you are all having,” she said as she casually started to stack baskets of food on top of her head and around her fingers. In the end, she managed to carry ten baskets that seemed to be overloaded with its contents. There were four in each hand and the remaining two were carefully balanced on her head. It would’ve looked ridiculous if it wasn’t outright impressive. 

Curiously eyeing all the baskets she was carrying, he asked, “Um… Don’t tell me that’s all for the picnic.”

“Indeed it is. There are fourteen mouths to feed and I am still uncertain of how big each of your appetites are, so I decided to make more than necessary.” She bowed again, somehow not disturbing the balance of the baskets on her head. 

“Surely four would’ve been enough…” He didn’t even want to question how she made so much in such a short amount of time. 

Sharon didn’t lose any confidence in her decision. “You never know.”

Fair enough. He was aware that there was a student here that could eat more than twenty peculiar dishes in one sitting, so maybe someone was secretly hiding an appetite akin to a black hole. 

(He wouldn’t know. He hadn’t really been paying attention to anyone’s eating habits, especially since his own stomach seemed to be shrinking nowadays).

“Okay then. Can I—” His voice froze in his throat when the entrance doors suddenly opened and he heard a loud gasp.

“Sha- Sharon?!” Alisa exclaimed, absolutely shocked and slightly frustrated to see her maid here.

Rean’s attention, however, was more on how  he suddenly felt a tight grip on his arm and was suddenly pushed behind someone’s—Instructor Sara’s—back. 

"My, what business could you possibly have with my student?" Instructor Sara’s voice feigned innocence, but Rean couldn’t ignore how her presence seemed… hostile. Distantly, he noticed Alisa frown at this uncharacteristic behavior.

If Instructor Sara knew what Sharon’s previous occupation was, she probably thought Sharon's business was actually only with him, not Alisa.

“Instructor Sara! Calm down!” Alisa rushed toward them, standing in front of Sharon and looking at her instructor warily. “She’s just my maid.”

"Lady Alisa is correct," Sharon innocently smiled back. "My name is Sharon. I was sent here to serve you, courtesy of the Reinford family.” She bowed down. “I will do my utmost to cater to your every need. I hope I can be of service."

Instructor Sara crossed her arms, deciding to play along with the maid's ignorance. "Oh, the pleasure's all mine, Sharon Kreuger."

Rean stepped back, sensing his instructor emit a cold aura. Sharon… never mentioned her last name, which only meant that not only did Instructor Sara know about Sharon's background, but they apparently also had some kind of history if she was acting so personal.

He locked eyes with Alisa’s confused ones and silently agreed that this was their cue to leave.

"Uh, I'm just going to get the food for the celebration that Class VII is having for finishing the midterms." He awkwardly scratched his cheek as he gestured to the baskets that Sharon was carrying. “Can I help you carry some?”

He could feel Instructor Sara’s intense gaze burn through his soul. Just as Sharon nodded and handed him one basket (out of the many, many baskets she had prepared), Instructor Sara intercepted and grabbed the object instead. 

“Rean, how about you let the responsible adults handle this? Go on and enjoy having a lack of responsibility while you still can,” she said, inspecting the contents of the basket for anything suspicious.

Hearing Alisa snort, he skeptically raised his brow at her. “You consider yourself a responsible adult?” Technically, she’d been shoving most of her responsibilities onto him. 

She clicked her tongue in complaint. “Hey now, I expect this kind of sass from Alisa, Jusis, Fie or Crow, not you!” She suddenly gasped, scandalized. “Aidios forbid, have they been corrupting my sweet, innocent gofer?”

Well, this was the second time someone mentioned his change in attitude. He wondered if it was a bad thing, but no one seemed genuinely unpleased by it.

He regarded her flatly while Alisa rolled her eyes at the woman’s dramatiques. “Instructor Sara, I have no idea where to even begin with what you just said, so I’ll pretend I heard nothing.” His eyes flicked toward the pile of containers holding food, still concerned. “Are you sure you guys don’t need help? This seems like a lot, even for you two.”

“Fine, you can carry these two baskets!” the instructor let out a reassuring chuckle as she shoved two picnic baskets into his hands and nudged him and Alisa away from them. Once the door slammed behind them, he could sense the atmosphere around their area grow more tense. 

Oh Goddess, he hoped Instructor Sara wouldn’t push herself for his sake—especially out of a misunderstanding. On the other hand, he supposed she would’ve been on edge around Sharon, especially if she already knew she was from Ouroboros; their hostile confrontation was probably inevitable. 

“Okay, what was that?” Alisa huffed, glaring at the doors. “Is it just me, or was Instructor Sara acting really suspicious?”

Rean had no reason to cover up for Instructor Sara, but he didn’t want to be questioned for how he knew this information. “Yeah, she seemed threatened by Sharon, but I don’t think I’ll ever know what goes on in her mind.” Changing the subject, he turned around to face the girl, ruby eyes looking at him in comfort. “Hey, Alisa,” he smiled at the girl who walked by his side. “I thought you were already at the picnic?”

“Yeah, well, I thought I could help you out. Knowing Sharon, she probably packed us a whole month’s worth of food.” She eyed the two baskets in his hands suspiciously while following him toward their destination. They walked in comfortable silence—well, Rean thought it was comfortable. He noticed how the blonde was fidgeting and kept looking at his direction, as if she wanted to say something.

Eventually, the backs of their hands brushed together and Alisa seemed to finally muster up the courage to speak her mind. 

“Mind if I help you carry that?” she asked. 

Ever since Bareahard, Rean learned that if his classmates wanted to help him, they would—regardless of his own protests. To avoid the usual back-and-forth that would usually end in him conceding defeat, he held the basket in his right hand out to her. 

However, instead of taking the basket like he expected, she placed her hand over his, continuing to walk with the basket secured in their conjoined hands.

Wearing an embarrassed blush but making no effort to change her hand position, Alisa shyly muttered, “Is this okay? Or am I making you uncomfortable?”

“It's okay.”

It was true. The touch and warmth of her hand on his were a nice way to pretend that someone was there with him—that he wasn’t alone. It reminded him of when Machias held his hand to tap out that familiar code.

She smiled at his response and started to happily hum.

Until two people blocked their way. 

“Heh. Well, doesn’t this look like fun?” A blonde noble—Patrick Hyarms—spoke with a tone that lacked humor. “Look at the couple of outcasts act so lovey-dovey with each other.”

At those words, Rean would’ve ripped his hand away from Alisa’s if she didn’t do so first. 

“We’re just friends.” He ignored the conflicted expression that crossed his companion’s face. He was already pushing his boundaries by being friends with her while keeping his background and knowledge on her father a secret. However, to be lovers with her? He’d definitely deserve a special hell for that. 

Good thing he could easily avoid that outcome because he was way too guilty to even consider entering a relationship with anyone. 

“Yes, because hand-holding is an activity that only ‘friends’ do,” droned the purple-haired noble—her name was Ferris, if he remembered correctly. 

He was confused by her sarcasm. Machias already held his hand and no one thought their relationship was anything beyond friendship.

Unless… was he missing some sort of social context here?

“It’s none of your business,” Alisa huffed, though she was mildly blushing. 

As calmly as possible, Rean asked the nobles, “On that note, do you have business with us?” He really didn’t see the reason why the nobles would approach them right now, especially since they openly showed their dislike for his and Alisa’s abnormal statuses. 

“I was just thinking that this was a great opportunity to get a little better acquainted, considering you all have been the talk of the school lately,” Patrick said, gesturing his hands exaggeratedly at the end of his sentence. After a short silence, the noble placed his hand on the hilt of his sword and drew his weapon. “I also thought it was a good opportunity to show both of you your places—especially you, Schwarzer! Swine like you have no right with the nobility. I feel pity for your parents for having to take care of someone like you.”

Rean almost flinched, not used to hearing those words from people other than Elise and Alphonse. Perhaps Alphonse had spread the word among his circles...

Ferris followed his movements, drawing her bow and setting her foes both on guard. “This time I won’t lose, Alisa!”

“Ferris…”

Right, he was vaguely aware that those two had some kind of rivalry going on. But to ask for a duel out of nowhere was a bit extreme. 

“Wait!” Rean sternly shouted, instinctively stepping in front of Alisa as they both pointed their weapons at him. “We can’t just start an unauthorized fight in the middle of town.” He nervously glanced at the bystanders who were starting to gather because of their commotion.

Patrick huffed as he lowered his sword. “Of course I know that.” Rean was willing to bet otherwise, judging by how his face was turning red with embarrassment, but he was glad the noble could still listen to reason. “This was just an invitation to a duel, we’ll settle the matter some other day—with permission and a large crowd to watch your defeat, Schwarzer.”

For some reason, that threat sent chills down his spine. Fighting against a human in front of a group of people? He didn’t like that idea. If he had to be honest, while he thought Patrick was a respectable fighter, he didn’t think the noble would be much of a challenge, he would be stupid to underestimate him. In the chance that he was pushed in this so-called duel, he’d...

“Oh, they’ll be watching your defeat,” Alisa determinedly retorted as she crossed her arms with confidence. “We plan on winning.”

...He’d normally force himself to lose. 

But he didn’t want to disappoint her.

“I look forward to this fight,” Rean good-naturedly smiled, even though he was dreading the future already.

Patrick looked annoyed by his response. Rudely, the noble walked past them and intentionally bumped shoulders with Rean with no apology, followed by Ferris. 

Once they were out of sight, Alisa’s shoulders slumped as she let out a deep sigh. “Rude. There’s nothing wrong with a commoner gaining power that’s similar to a noble’s. This is—”

She stopped herself when she heard him chuckle. Seeing her questioning gaze about what was so funny, he said, “Careful there. Say any more, and I’ll think that you’re being possessed by Machias.”

She huffed. “I wish, so then he would’ve come up with good insults to throw at them.” Her eyes softened as she looked at him in concern. “Don’t let his words get to you. I’m sure your family is happy to have you.”

Oh. Alisa noticed that he was slightly affected by Patrick’s words?

“Yeah, I know.” He automatically lied, politely smiling at her.

“Good.” Alisa seemed happy at his response. Taking his hand in hers again, they walked together toward where the others were waiting. 

---

Oddly enough, despite how he’d been trying to avoid his classmates, he was looking forward to this celebration. Perhaps he was acting selfish, but he wanted to enjoy the moments he shared with his friends until he left them.

The moment Rean arrived at the field in front of the Old Schoolhouse, the location Class VII and the upperclassmen were having the picnic, he immediately stopped in his tracks. 

“Crow, I swear to Aidios!” Machias shouted, pointing his shotgun at the gray-haired upperclassman. “If you don’t give me back my money right now, I will pull this trigger and shoot you full of mira-shaped holes!”

“Sheesh!” Crow exclaimed, promptly tossing the coin back to its owner. “The first-years are scary!”

“You don’t mess with a commoner and their hard earned money!” Machias hissed, pocketing the money. 

Jusis shrugged. “Meh, it’s just pocket change.”

“Says the guy who threatened to turn me into a butler for taking his so-called pocket change,” Crow muttered defeatedly. 

“Can’t be worse than that gun duel Fie forced you in to get her money back.”

“George, don’t bring up my trauma.”

Rean glanced around to see a smirking Fie, hanging from a tree and making a peace-sign gesture.

“Crow, stealing is bad. So all of this is well deserved.”

Crow sighed, looking at Towa who was wearing a disappointed look. “I think gun duels are worse than petty theft!”

Machias reluctantly nodded, agreeing to that.

“Sounds like you guys had it easy,” Alisa deadpanned while releasing his hand from her grasp so she could place it on her hip. “I had to shoot him with multiple arrows until one of them caught and burned his bandana.”

Huh. No wonder Crow was wearing a black bandana nowadays. 

“I had to smash him with Lammy!”

“I just had to place my hand on my sword, and he just gave it back to me immediately,” Laura commented. 

Everyone else agreed. 

Emma giggled in amusement as she turned to look at Rean. “Looks like nearly everyone here almost got swindled by Crow, huh?”

For a moment, he had to wonder what methods the relatively peaceful classmates like Emma, Elliot and Gaius had to use to get their mira back… He was amused by the possibilities. 

“Should I be sad that I’m the only one lacking that experience?” Rean chuckled, though he vaguely remembered the time when he was the Ashen Saint and fell for this trick—and never got his money back. Oh well, he couldn’t exactly tell anyone that. 

Anyway…

He coughed, gaining everyone’s attention. Raising the baskets in the air for everyone to see, he said, “Food’s here!” 

It didn’t take too long for them to place the picnic blanket on the floor and set the food on it in an organized manner. Even with two baskets, Sharon sure didn’t pull back. They had sandwiches, lemonade, brownies, and fruits. It was typical picnic food, but when Sharon arrived, she brought four tea sets, a whole turkey, and cake. As quickly as she organized the food, she left, saying that she had to continue some business with Instructor Sara. 

He decided to not let himself think about the two adults. 

Being the last one to fix his (admittedly small) plate of food, he observed how his peers broke off into groups to chat. Emma, Laura and Fie were standing by the shade of the trees and were apparently talking about the best way to deal with a ghost, based on the small snippets of their conversation he could hear. On the opposite side, Alisa and Machias seemed to be in a heated conversation and their voices were loud enough for him to tell that they were ranting about Patrick. Meanwhile, Millium— 

“Rean! *Munch* Guess what! *Munch* Guess what!” He suddenly found Millium bounding toward him and tugging at his arm while carrying a sandwich in her mouth.

He smiled at her child-like actions even though he still had no idea what Millium's purpose here was.

Because of that incident with Machias' book, he had a hunch that the reason she was here was related to terrorism, but it didn't completely make sense why she would have to transfer into his class to keep an eye on that. Surely his dad could give him the mission instead of Millium, considering he was already part of the class. It seemed like a waste of resources to have two Ironbloods in the same place, especially when Rean could probably do the mission by himself.

He tried asking his dad for details but he got no information. Odd. Rean had no idea why he wasn't allowed to have access to this information…

“What?” He asked, fondly. Oh well, he was told to not worry about it so he wouldn't worry about it. Plus, Millium often seemed to unintentionally brighten the atmosphere at the dorms and cheer up all of his classmates, so he was grateful for her presence. 

“I ranked twenty-five on the midterms! *Munch* That’s better than the smarty trio! *Munch*” 

“That’s great,” he couldn’t hide a chuckle as he patted her head to congratulate her. “But, um, I think you have a little misunderstanding here…”

She curiously tilted her head at him. “What misunderstanding? *Munch* Twenty-five is greater than one, two, and three, so—”

“Don’t be fooled into giving her any pity, Rean.” Lilac and amber eyes looked over to Jusis, who had interrupted Millium. “Earlier today she was pouting and sulking over how she couldn’t beat me or Regnitz.”

In confusion, he raised his eyebrow at the thirteen year-old. “Why would you pretend to not understand the ranking system?”

“*Munch* ‘Cause it’s funny! *Munch* See, I was able to make you laugh!” Millium giggled as she pointed her bright-eyed gaze at Jusis. “*Munch* Right, Jusis? It’s funny!”

“Yes, because making a fool of yourself is so entertaining. I am utterly dying of laughter here.” His face and voice held as much emotion as a brick, causing Rean to laugh again. Unexpectedly, these two complemented each other’s personalities well. 

Millium was unfazed by his lack of reaction, instead choosing to release Rean’s arm and launch herself at Jusis’ chest.

“Millium—!”

And they tumbled to the floor.

Rean awkwardly moved away as Jusis spouted out a number of child-friendly, eloquent curses while Millium continued to laugh. He walked toward Elliot, Gaius and Crow, who appeared oddly unnerved.

“What are you all talking about?” he asked before he took a bite of his sandwich.

Elliot kindly answered with an interesting spark in his eyes, “The Ashen Saint.”

He almost spit out the food in his mouth.

“The what?”

He hadn’t heard anyone talk about his alternate identity ever since—well, ever since he started school. To hear it now from his classmates, after all the time that had passed, was almost jarring.

“Man, you’re Erebonian and you haven’t heard of the Ashen Saint?” Crow tsked as he regained his composure. “You know, the mysterious samaritan who wanders through this whole country, helping everyone?”

He slowly nodded. “Yeah, but what brought up this subject? I thought there hasn’t been any news on him lately?”

“Him? You sure the Ashen Saint ain’t a girl?” Crow curiously raised his eyebrow at him. 

Blushing at his mistake, he immediately explained himself. “My bad. It’s wrong of me, but I just always assumed that they were a ‘he.’ I’ll try not to make the mistake again.”

Dear Aidios, it was so weird talking about himself like this. 

“It’s okay, Rean. You had no intention to be disrespectful.” Gaius comfortingly patted his shoulder. “As for the reason why we’re talking about them… Well, I just happened to see them while I was painting outside in Trista yesterday.”

Wait. What? He didn’t dress up as the Ashen Saint yesterday. 

“I found it curious that everyone revealed that Crow had attempted to steal money from them, and yet…” Gaius continued speaking while Crow suspiciously averted his eyes. “I saw him chasing the Ashen Saint to give them some money.”

That would’ve painted a silly picture in his mind if he wasn’t still concerned about who was possibly stealing his other identity. 

A loud cough and a teasing voice suddenly joined their conversation. “Now then, what could possibly prompt our resident trickster thief to give money instead of take?” They turned to see Angie gasp, scandalized, as she and the other two upperclassmen strolled toward them. “Could it be..?”

George sighed, hiding no disappointment as he looked at his gray-haired friend. “High chances are that he stole from the Ashen Saint and then felt bad for stealing, so now he wants to give the money back.”

“Seriously?” Crow folded his arms while frowning at them. “It’s frightening how well you guys can read my mind.”

“Crow,” Towa pouted. “Do I have to confiscate your magazines again until you learn that stealing is bad!?”

“Have some mercy on me! I only just regained my Blade deck!”

Elliot pressed his lips into a flat line as he regarded Crow with mixed feelings. “You stole from the Ashen Saint and never gave it back?”

“Even the winds don’t make blows that low, Crow.”

The upperclassmen rolled his eyes. “Yeah, yeah. Whatever. I’m trying to repent, you know. Which is why I'm trying to give them back the money.”

Rean was starting to feel bad for suddenly disappearing off the face of Zemura when someone apparently had some unfinished business with him. Though he honestly didn’t care about the money anymore. 

“I guess you were unsuccessful?” he asked, keeping his voice steady.

“Yeah, they said they don’t remember me owing them anything and then left.”

Well, at least he could say for certain that whoever was posing as the Ashen Saint wasn’t doing it for the money. That realization only made him more confused about their intention with the Ashen Saint’s identity. He would have to talk to dad about it later, probably after the field study. 

Angie smirked, leaning against Crow’s shoulder. “I still can’t believe you had the guts to smooch some money off a good samaritan. I could never, especially after they helped me sneak out of my house a year ago.”

Wait a minute...

Rean tried to not let his confused emotions show on his face. He… vaguely remembered picking up a random escort mission back in Roer, but he never realized the true intentions of his escortee, nor did he realize that the escortee was from House Rogner.

Towa nodded, bringing up another interesting piece of information. “Yeah, they helped me carry my family groceries back in Heimdallr.”

“Same, the Ashen Saint once helped me get my violin back after it was stolen!”

Gaius hummed before adding another bit of info that Rean had vague memories about. “The Ashen Saint visited my home in Nord once, and they helped me gather the sheep who had run away.”

Huh. By some strange twist of fate, it seemed he met quite a few of his peers as the Ashen Saint. Though it shouldn't have been surprising, considering he’d practically travelled through all of the populated towns and cities in this country. 

“Anyway…” Crow sighed, looking directly at Rean as he not-so-discreetly shifted the topic away from his transgressions. “You’re going to explore the Old Schoolhouse again after this, right? Mind if I join?”

“Sure.” Rean glanced at the others, before loudly speaking up and gaining everyone’s attention. “If anyone wants to explore the Old Schoolhouse with me, feel free to.”

At this point, he really shouldn't have been surprised to see so many eager nods. Even if he didn’t ask, they would probably force themselves to come, and he would just have to accept that. The only people who declined his invitation were George and...

His heart nearly sank when he saw Alisa shake her head and say that she had some other business to attend to. He was able to get away with Emma being unsure of who the Awakener was because she went on every investigation with him. Now that she wasn’t… His status was going to be official now, wasn’t it?

There was going to be no more uncertainty about his fate after this Old Schoolhouse investigation anymore.

For some reason, that thought terrified him.

“Before that, Rean, can I talk to you for a minute?” 

He shoved his thoughts to the side as he looked at Towa, standing in front of him and looking a little nervous.

He curiously nodded, following her until they stopped right in front of the Old Schoolhouse doors. No one was nearby so they couldn’t exactly hear them, but he could already feel their suspicious stares burning holes in his skin. Towa didn’t seem to be bothered—or she just didn’t notice. 

Awkwardly rubbing the back of his neck, he asked her, “Mind if we talk inside?”

“Sure! It might be better that way anyway.”

Okay, now he was getting concerned about what Towa had to talk to him about if it was better for the others to not see them. 

Closing the door behind them, Rean watched the student council president bow her head to him. 

“First off, I’m so sorry for taking your time like this when we’re supposed to be celebrating the end of midterms!”

He instinctively raised his hands as if to shield himself from her apology. “It’s fine. We’ve all been so busy lately, so I guess now was the best time to talk.”

“Yeah,” Towa sighed in relief, glad that he was understanding. “So, how are you doing?”

The question sounded too innocent when he could feel the atmosphere slowly becoming tense.

“Good.”

It was somewhat true. He was feeling good just a few moments ago, but the concern over what she wanted to talk about was making him feel anxious. 

“That’s good to hear! I heard you also did wonderfully in the midterms. Seventh place is nothing to scoff at!” Towa’s smile started to fade, giving way to an expression of concern. “So, nothing’s been bothering you at all? You don’t feel overworked or anything?”

Not recently. And definitely nothing from school was bothering him other than his friends’ continued kindness and the concept of him belonging somewhere. “No? Why do you ask?”

He watched Towa bite her lip, seemingly unsure of what to say. “It’s just that… While you did so well in your midterms, I’ve heard that your overall grade has been dropping. You usually maintain grades above 85%, but recently you’ve been consistently scoring 75% on all your assignments except history.”

Oh. That did sound bad. However, what was more concerning was how he was only noticing this now. This past month, he didn’t really care about his grades, but he never thought about it until now. 

“Is it the work I’ve been piling on you? I know there have been more requests for help coming in… Or is tutoring Crow too much work?” She paused, looking almost pained to say her next words. “If so, I’m going to have to stop giving you student council tasks for the time being. After all, your grade should be your priority at the moment.”

“No.” He surprised even himself by how resolute his voice sounded, though he knew he really didn’t want to give up these small tasks. He… liked helping people. He didn’t want to stop. Even if Towa stopped giving him tasks, he was sure he could find a way around it. “The student council requests aren’t the reason why I’m doing poorly in school.”

Actually, now that he thought about it, the reason for his worsening grades had to be the ‘voice’ from Bareahard. It kept making him confused and he often found himself losing focus just to chase those thoughts. It was annoying, causing him to do poorly in school. The only reason he did well in the midterms was because he didn’t want to drag the rest of the class down. 

Towa let out a sigh of relief, but there was still a tinge of confusion and worry swirling in her eyes. “Then why—Actually, you don’t have to tell me if you don’t want to. Just know that I’ll be willing to lend an ear if you want to share. You don’t have to keep your burdens to yourself!”

Rean responded with his usual polite, empty smile. “Thanks. Maybe one day.”

He felt guilty by how Towa’s eyes seemed to brighten at his reassurance. “Okay then, I guess we should go back outside and tell everyone to get ready to explore this place?”

“Sounds like a good pla—”

THUMP

He scrunched his eyes closed as his hand practically flew to grab at the scar on his chest and the locket hidden beneath his shirt.

THUMP

THUMP

His heart.  It was throbbing painfully. 

 

······· REVEAL ·······

 

“Rean?”

Feeling the pain subside as quickly as it came, he opened his eyes to see Towa hovering beside him in worry. Once he calmed his breathing, he heavily sighed, “Sorry about that. I just got dizzy for a second.”

She pouted, unconvinced. “Are you sure you don’t need to go to the infirmary? You looked like you were in a lot of pain for a moment there.”

“Yeah… I just…”

The Divine Knight was calling out to him. 

He couldn’t keep pretending otherwise now. He was truly the Awakener of the Ashen Knight that slumbered in the depths of this dungeon.

 He… was still not happy about this, even though he should’ve been happy. After all, this was part of the reason why he was here in the first place. To hear that he was chosen should have reassured him and erased most of his concerns of failing his mission. Instead, he only felt dread.

It didn’t make sense that he wanted to resist the call. 

To resist his destiny. For just a little bit longer.

To stay…

It was that confusing voice again. 

…

He didn’t ignore it this time. 

“Actually, Towa, you’re right. I think I need to rest, but I’ll go to my room instead of the infirmary.” 

This was an impulsive decision, only made possible because his emotions were in a mess at the moment. He couldn’t stop his words, nor could he take them back without worrying the brunette even more.

He felt guilty for skipping the schoolhouse investigation for something as silly as his conflicting thoughts, making him wish he wasn’t so mentally weak. Sighing, he pushed open the door to leave, not surprised to see all his friends in close proximity to the entrance, obviously eavesdropping. 

Still feeling a heaviness in heart—which only seemed to grow with every step he took away from the dungeon—he weakly smiled at them. 

“Sorry, I don’t feel well enough to do the exploration. Maybe the shock of seeing that ghost is finally getting to me, haha.” He averted his eyes to look away from any of their worried expressions. “Would you mind if you did the investigation for me? Principal Vandyke will probably still want a report…”

Normally, he would refuse with every bone in his body to let them do his work for him. However, he figured that, without him around, they wouldn’t have much of an investigation to do. After all, the trial would only activate if the Awakener was around. 

Quickly, he walked past them and only looked back once to see them all start to enter the Old Schoolhouse. Sighing again, he let himself drift in his confused thoughts as he walked toward the dorms, not noticing how a certain black cat was following him. 

When he entered the dorms, he noticed that no one was inside the building. 

Walking up the stairs to his room, he darted toward his room and opened his door. As he moved to close and lock the door, he finally noticed how Celine had followed after him and was now taking residence in his room by leaping up to his desk chair. Her presence was a surprise, yet not unwelcome, serving to soothe his conflicted feelings just a bit. 

For the next couple of minutes, he leaned back on his door and sighed, wondering what he was going to do next. As a result of his introspection, he understood that a part of himself admittedly did not want to finish his mission and leave the school early.

He couldn’t function like this if there was a part of him that needed to complete his mission and another part that didn’t want to. So silly. He couldn’t believe he was seriously considering pursuing a fake normal life with his classmates. So stupid.

But then… What could he do? 

The only option was to kill his desires and finish the mission, right? After all, following his dad's plans were his only purpose in life.

It wasn’t like he could just rebel by quitting his mission and selfishly pursuing his desires. That would utterly defeat his purpose in life, right? And without a purpose, he wouldn't need to...

...

He wouldn't have to...

...

 

---

---

 

As loathe as she was to admit it, Celine was certain that Rean was the Awakener. The trial site should usually tune to the Awakener’s individual level of strength, and from what she observed of the Old Schoolhouse, the monsters were too strong for Alisa. There was no way that girl could manage to finish this trial by herself, so Rean must’ve been it. 

She cursed the universe for choosing such a foolish human. Sure, he’d recently stopped reliving his trauma outside every night, but that didn’t mean he stopped being stupid. He was still too dumb to know how to take care of himself. 

When he stepped out of the Old Schoolhouse after his talk with the petite girl, Celine immediately saw very early warning signs of his usual panic attack. Of course, she followed him. There was no point in investigating the trial site without the Awakener.

(Plus… Maybe she was a little bit worried.) 

Seeing him retreat into his room and stare into space for a few minutes, looking confused and in pain, Celine decided that there was no way he had the mental or emotional strength to handle the duty of the Awakener.

Seriously, she had choice words for the Divine Knight who chose Rean. Whenever they finally finished the trial and awakened the knight, she would hiss and curse at it for having a poor taste in Awakeners. 

Oh well, the only thing that she and Emma could do was to be the best damned guides an Awakener could ever ask for. This human better be grateful by the time they were done with him.

Lying on Rean’s desk chair, she let her tail hang from the edge and swished it back and forth while she watched the human push himself to bed and fall asleep.

Following his example, she also took a nap.

Only to wake up when she felt Emma form a telepathic connection to her and speak.

“Celine, I have some news.”

“Let me guess, you couldn’t find anything new in the Old Schoolhouse?”

“No, actually… uh… a new level opened up. Everyone cleared the level and even defeated the boss at the end.”

Celine’s eyes snapped open in shock in confusion, directing her gaze toward the teen still napping on his bed. Were her eyes deceiving her or what?

“Were Rean or Alisa with you?”

“No? Wasn’t Rean with you? Alisa also wasn’t with us when we explored.”

That made no sense. Wasn’t an Awakener required to finish each level? Did that mean Rean actually wasn’t the Awakener? But then, who could it be? There was no one else who explored the schoolhouse and cleared every level.

Who...? Or how...?

It was pointless to ask questions in her mind. Especially when she knew someone who probably had answers.

“I’ll contact Roselia.”

Notes:

Well, Scarlet may or may not have made a decision she'll regret. Meanwhile, there's a ghost, Sharon's here and Sara's not happy, Rean's being oblivious to certain people making moves on him, someone's pretending to be the Ashen Saint, and Rean skipped the Old Schoolhouse investigation (which still happened without him). Oh dear, hope nothing too awful happens in the future.

^^Yeah, that's a little summary just in case you need one for whenever the next chapter drops. Life's been hectic earlier than expected and it'll only get more chaotic. I've barely had time for fanfiction, so I can't exactly promise a chapter for September. I'll try my best tho. Sorry for the possible inconvenience!

Anyway, "Two Voices" refer to the identity conflict that Scarlet and Rean are having and may or may not make decisions that people will be unhappy with. Heh.

Next time: Chapter 13 - He Who Doesn't Care
Take care, and I'd appreciate a comment!

Chapter 13: He Who Doesn't Care

Notes:

Wow, I can't believe I managed to update so fast.
Here’s September’s chapter.

—-

WARNING for a suicidal attempt.
If you think I should change the rating, feel free to tell me.

—-

He didn’t want to be the Awakener.

That was the only thought that repeated in his head for the entire duration of his ‘nap’. He only found relief when he suddenly had an epiphany.

The Awakener’s destiny wasn’t often bright. They usually had a future full of fights with and, because of Ishmelga's plans, this era of Awakeners would have the fate of the world  resting on their shoulders. Knowing that, Rean countered his recent dislike of avoiding the Awakener’s destiny with his greater disgust at the possibility that one of his classmates would receive this burden.

Everyone in Class VII… Everyone in Thors all had promising futures. To gain the fate of an Awakener… It could destroy their future.

If anyone had to take on that burden, it might as well be the guy who had no future and was only good for fighting. At least, by taking this burden for them, he’d be protecting their future in a way.

(If he had to keep destroying himself for them… that was fine by him.)

With this conclusion, he was back on track with his original mission. The ‘voice’, however, was still persistent, whispering tempting possibilities like technically he could become the Awakener AND still stick with the class. It would be a win-win situation. 

Silly thoughts… silly thoughts...

He had to shake those thoughts away because he never won. So, instead of depressing himself further with hopeless dreams, he let himself sleep for the rest of the evening and night. 

(He may have missed dinner, but… He felt like he needed the rest more than he needed the food. Plus, Sharon packed dinner for him in a nice little container so he could eat it for breakfast. Everything was fine.)

In the following morning, he walked with his classmates to the train station only to be told that they were able to clear the newest level in the Old Schoolhouse by themselves.

This revelation brought many mixed feelings to the surface. First, he felt bad for letting his classmates do his work for him. He really shouldn't have left the schoolhouse, especially since the reason why he left yielded no altercations in his plan. Second, he felt like he was disrespecting his Divine Knight by skipping one of the levels and having other people do it for him.

Third, well...

His Divine Knight.

Rean still felt confident that he was the one chosen. He’d felt a connection being formed when he was inside the building, talking to Towa. Even now, if he closed his eyes, he could feel a pull toward Trista.

He had no doubts that he was the Awakener. He was only confused about how the others completed a trial without him. It wasn’t like there could be another contractor with the Divine Knight, right?

“Heard anything back from your grandmother?” Rean casually asked the witch sitting next to him on the train, successfully hiding his intense interest in the subject. She hadn’t said anything specific about what she would do to try to find the True Awakener, but he wouldn’t be surprised if she looked for answers from her grandmother or anyone from her home village. 

Emma fumbled to fix her glasses on her face since she was not expecting the sudden question. After all, the whole ride had been so nice and peaceful and quiet—barring how Jusis and Machias were loudly arguing, Fie was forcing Elliot into playing an intense game of footsies, and Laura was arm-wrestling Airegetlam while Alisa and Gaius were apologizing to the bystanders on behalf of everyone else.

...He wouldn’t be surprised if they got banned from riding a train ever again.

“Um… Well…” Emma lost the uncertainty in her voice when she suddenly let out a deep sigh of frustration. “I haven’t been able to get in contact with Grandmother. Apparently she recently left on a trip and told no one where she was going, nor when she was coming back.”

What coincidental bad timing. Apparently his next best shot to getting information about the Divine Knight situation would be to call his dad whenever he got the chance. 

“It’s a shame,” Emma continued with a slight frown on her face. “I was hoping to also ask about that ghost you all witnessed in our dormitory.”

“Hmm.. Was the ghost something related to magic?” Honestly, he hadn’t been thinking about it that much because the mystery with the schoolhouse took up most of his thoughts.

“I think so. I did find some magic residue left in the dormitory and it didn’t belong to me. And, given your description of the ghost, I think it’s a type of entity that a really powerful witch could conjure up…” She trailed off as her expression morphed into worry and betrayal.

Powerful witches, huh? According to his dad, Roselia was an incredibly powerful witch-vampire-familiar person (the details were complicated, apparently). According to Emma, her own sister and grandmother were also very skilled and talented.

He kind of found it hard to believe that Roselia or any relative of Emma’s would pull off a prank that would involve a ghost with killing intent. Actually, he couldn't believe that witches had that kind of power in the first place.

"Witches have the power to summon creatures with such malicious intent?"

Emma shifted in her seat uncomfortably. "Yes, well, we do have many forbidden magics of that nature, like summoning devils. However, no one practices them for good reason. No one would want the Septian Church to go on 'witch hunts', you know?"

"Hmm…"

How interesting, but what were the chances he happened to earn the wrath of a witch who was willing to dabble in such forbidden magic? He hadn't done anything bad in public, as far as he was aware of.

Unfortunately, he wouldn’t be able to find an answer in his head, so he shifted his focus away from the topic. Yawning, he turned his head to face the window, looking out to see the faint outline of the Vermillion Capital coming into view. They were going to stop at Heimdallr’s train station to split up and switch trains, then do it again at Roer, and finally be headed for Nord.

Though, his first thought at seeing the city was about his dad, knowing he was working somewhere in Valflame Palace. It'd been so long since he'd seen his face in person...

His second thought was about his sister who lived here. And then all he could think about was that letter he recently sent to her. It probably wouldn’t arrive to her in another week or two, and it would probably take a few days for her to get around to reading it, but he was finally certain that she would be pleased to read its contents. 

To read that he decided to…

...

There was something wrong with him, wasn’t there? 

While he’d recently been in constant turmoil over whether or not he belonged with Class VII, he felt like he had no place with his adoptive family. These were silly feelings, considering he’d lived with the Schwarzer for much longer and they understood him much better, but—that was exactly the reason why he felt the need to leave them.

It wasn’t like he disliked the Schwarzers or anything, it was the opposite. Really, they gave him a new name so he could start all over. They were great for dealing with him even though Lianne couldn’t completely fix his messed up soul. They were wonderful for never giving up on him and he loved them for the infinite kindness that they showed him.

They did everything for him, while he did nothing for them. Wait, actually, he did worse than nothing for them; he caused them to suffer. It would simply be best for them if he minimized contact with them before things happened and they would gain more reasons to worry about him.

Maybe it was a little earlier than planned, and maybe he wasn’t completely ready yet, but…

It was time to finally fulfill his promise to not trouble them any more.

“The next stop is… Heimdallr. Heimdallr.”

The chaos that Class VII was creating suddenly ceased when the train fully stopped and opened its doors. Excited, Millium skipped out of the train, followed by Jusis who stopped her from crashing into any of the surrounding passengers, then followed by the rest of the class who casually exited the vehicle.

Rean was one of the last passengers to leave and saw most of his class head towards the bathrooms while Elliot and Alisa waited for him. Though, looking at how winded they appeared, they may have waited only to catch their breaths.

“Phew, Fie plays one intense game of footsies,” Elliot exhaled, looking like he just ran a marathon. “She could give my older sister a challenge!”

Strange. Hearing him mention that he had a sister made the image of a young, orange-haired girl flash through his mind. He knew about Fiona Craig from Elliot's Intelligence Division file, but his memory should've recalled her looking much older.

“You have an older sister?” Alisa asked, raising a brow with interest as her smirk gained a teasing edge. “Honestly, that’s not surprising! You’re definitely younger brother material!”

Elliot blushed. "I guess I don't stray from the younger brother stereotype," he embarrassedly laughed before he glanced at Rean. "Kind of like how it's not a surprise to learn that Rean’s an older brother."

"Really?" Rean was generally curious and disbelieving at that observation. "I don't really think I fit the older brother type at all."

"You don't have to be so humble all the time," Alisa playfully nudged his elbow. "I can already see you being the overprotective type of brother who spoils his little sister."

"Haha, I feel pity for whoever tries to take your sister's hand in marriage."

Okay, that got him to chuckle. Maybe he'd threaten to kill whoever wanted to date Elise and broke her heart, but that didn't mean he was a good older brother.

"I really don't think—"

"Rean!"

He turned around at the familiar call of his name, feeling someone suddenly collide into his chest and sent him falling backwards. Gathering his bearings, he glanced up to see he was wrapped in the tight embrace of…

Elise. His sister. 

And she was brilliantly grinning at him?

Alisa was the first one to react, flusteredly stuttering, "Wh-Who's this? Why's she hugging you like that, Rean?!"

Chuckling nervously, he awkwardly addressed his sister first with a head pat. “Hey Elise, it’s been a while.” His eyes flicked up to meet confused red and turquoise orbs. “This is my sister.”

Elise let go of him and looked up at the blonde. Stepping back, she stood up and politely curtsied to them. "Hello there, Rean's classmates. My name is Elise Schwarzer, Rean's younger sister."

"Speak of the devil…" Elliot sweat-dropped before he shook his head and introduced himself next. "Hi, my name's Elliot Craig."

Alisa smiled, gracefully recovering from her earlier surprise, "I'm Alisa R."

Glancing at Rean as he got up to his feet, Elise covered her mouth with her hand, gleefully chuckling, "It's a pleasure to meet you all. I've heard many wonderful things about you from his letters. I’m happy to hear that you’re all such great friends to him!”

Both his classmates blushed at the praise.

“Man, I feel unprepared,” Elliot sighed, rubbing the back of his head. “You seem to know us well based on what he wrote to you, but we barely know anything about you.”

“He doesn’t say much about me?”

“Just a few quirky facts like how you used to be a terrible baker,” Alisa chuckled. 

“Thanks for throwing me under the bus, Alisa,” he shook his head but was barely hiding a smile. 

Elise was now cautiously looking at him, lips pulled tightly in a flat line.

...Was she mad at him for not talking about her to his classmates?

(No, it couldn’t be. She wanted nothing to do with him, after all. That was why he barely talked about her.)

“It’s fine.” She was smiling again, grabbing both Alisa’s and Elliot’s hands into hers. “I’m sure we’ll be able to get to know each other better in the future. Just...”

Her expression was soft as her eyes twinkled with deep emotion. 

Was it sadness? Gratitude? Hope? Or all three mixed into one? He couldn’t quite explain the kind face she was making right now. Nor could he explain why seeing this made him feel regret.

 “Thank you, really, for taking care of him.”

Her words sounded so pure and genuine, full of other emotions that couldn’t be described. It caught his classmates off guard for how sudden it was. It caught Rean off guard for how strange it was to hear her talk about him like this.

…It couldn’t be right. He knew Elise didn’t actually— 

“I have to go now,” his sister said, letting go of his classmates’ hands. Briefly, she turned around to hug Rean one more time. “We will talk later! And Rean, I’m still waiting for your letter!”

“I already sent it,” his smile was soft as he ruffled her hair, much to her surprise. “Anyway, take care of yourself and goodb—”

“I’m looking forward to it.” Elise cut him off, releasing him from her hug. She turned and ran to the entrance of the train station, noticeably having a strange skip to her step. With one glance back, she cheerfully added, “Good luck on your field study!”

Rean watched her fleeting figure, unaware that she was grinning with hope, until he saw her meet up with two people who he recognized. Seeing them, he sighed with relief. He knew that they would take care of Elise and make her happy.

“See? I don’t think she’d adore you that much if you weren’t a great older brother!” Alisa giggled, turning her attention back on him. 

“She might beat me for best younger sibling of the year award.”

“There’s an award for that?”

Elliot sheepishly rubbed the back of his head. “Well, dad says that there’s a best dad of the year award, so there’s probably one for the youngest child, right?”

“Better up your game, then! She seems pretty undefeatable with that adoring look in her eyes.”

...

No. Elise’s act of adoration was certainly convincing, but Rean knew better.

It was fake.

She was only kind to him because it was in her nature to be kind. Only because she pitied him. Even though she...

 

“Mother is CRYING right now because of you!” 

 

“Aren't you supposed to be the older child?!”

 

“You’re not supposed to cause them more trouble than me!”

 

“You’re supposed to be reliable and nice, not— not—!”

 

“—Not you !”

 

“YOU’RE THE WORST!” 

 

“LEAVE ME AND MY FAMILY ALONE!”

 

“I HATE YOU!” 

“I HATE YOU SO MUCH!” 

Y̴͔̫̭̞̼̤͕͔̥̼̗̹̙̱̺͐̂̈́͒̑͂̕͜͠Õ̷̰̱̟̗U̴̧͔͍̗̬̜͙̣̯͕̫̝̼̼͎̼̘̥̱͊̐͑̈́̄͊̈́̅̈́̂͒̔͛͆̓͝͝ ̸̧̧̹̞̖͓͕͚̠̱̪̮́͗͂̎͗̅͒̈́̿̎͗͒̏̆̕̕̚͝ͅS̵̢̜̫̭̣̬̦̣͔͈̣̥͖͚̱̙̿̾̑̊͆̐̾̍̊͛͜͝͝͝H̶̡̛͍͙̲̞͚̥̹̮̪͙̤̓͌͛̂̈̂̌͒͛̈́́̐͜͝O̵̧̪̠̗̰͔̖̠͚̹̫̫̯̥̫͙̰̾͆͊͗̌́̒͐̿̂̏̇̌̕͝͠͠ͅU̴̙̥̬̗̭̱̗̱̤͔̤̩̪̠̠̍̿̐͐͋̈́̏̽́̓́̇̎͊̋̕͠͝͝Ḻ̶̜̳̹̬̲̟͛́̉̅̔̓̃̑̓̄̾͘͘̕͝D̵̢̢̧̨̩̤̲͚͖͓̹̠̠̤͍̤̮̗̦̪̦̄ ̷̡̲͂̿̈̀̌͆̄͋͘J̸̡̢̳͖̞͕̳̳̲̊͗̋̀̍́̐͗̽͂̍̕̕͜͜͝͝Ǔ̶̧͔̭̪͉͕͍̪͔̯̹͙̠͓̹̘̯͖̗̭͂͗̿͋̆̈́̀̏͋̃̅͝S̵̪̺̘͚͍̣̩͖͝ͅŢ̶̡̢̬͇͎͇̜͐́͐̓̈́̅͋͂ ̶̨̧̡̠̝͉̭̖̻̼̬͔̝̱̪̽̇̃͒̾̈́͗̓̿͒̃̚̕ͅḒ̶̲̻͍̙͕͍̝͖̻̍̈́̍̊̔́̓̒͒̋̓͗̕̚͠I̷͖̗͔̝̗̭̮͓͓͍̮̞̺̬̮̻̳̭̯̔̊̀̐̇̕ͅͅḘ̵̻́͆̉̏̔̂͋̕

He loved them. He really did. But that was why he had to cut ties with them soon. He didn't want to burden them anymore. There was no place for him with the Schwarzers, even if he took their name. 

His hand moved to cup his abdomen, suddenly feeling a stinging sensation at the scar there.

Strange, that scar never bothered him before…

 

Dizzy. The memory made him feel dizzy. Another weird thing. That memory also never bothered him before.

 

His hand reached out to touch something—anything because he really did not want to randomly fall and worry everyone around him. He was met with the feeling of warmth and softness.

“Rean?” Alisa sounded more confused than concerned at how he suddenly grabbed her hand. Good. That meant he didn’t look sick or anything.

“Just got a little dizzy spell for a second there,” he smiled, vanquishing any possible worries they had. With all of his strength, he tried to focus on what he remembered of Alisa and Elliot’s conversation, trying to keep the attention away from himself. “Elliot, you mentioned your dad earlier… Is it possible that you’re talking about General Olaf Craig?”

Alisa gasped in surprise. “Oh, that’s why your last name sounded so familiar!”

The boy made a surprised squeaking noise, much to both their amusements. “I- uh- I didn’t mean to keep it a secret! But I didn’t want anyone to get unrealistic expectations of me, especially since we’re so different!”

“It’s fine. You’re fine just the way you are” Rean comfortingly patted Elliot’s shoulder with his other hand. He was feeling a lot less dizzy now. “It’s just… There is a dad of the year award. Olaf Craig was the winner of last year’s award. I remember hearing my father sulk over getting the second place award.”

“Wait, really?! I’m surprised dad never bragged to me about it!”

Probably because it was just a competition between close friends. He was pretty sure his dad would’ve joined, too, if not for the whole business with Ishmelga.

“Anyway, shall we remind the rest of our class that the next trains will be leaving soon? I think I can hear a commotion going around the bathroom area.”

Alisa sighed, face-palming with sudden tiredness. “I swear, if Millium tried to steal ANOTHER toilet seat—”

“I thought Fie did that last time,” Elliot asked, though he couldn’t hide his surprise that any of his classmates were willing to steal a toilet seat.

“No, Fie only came up with the idea as a joke. Millium, however, didn’t think it was a joke...” Alisa let out a long sigh. “Our class has been getting in a lot more trouble since Millium joined. If, by some bizarre circumstance, we get another transfer student, I hope they play by the rules!”

"Haha…" Rean couldn’t help but agree.

(However, he had to admit that Class VII’s chaoticness was part of the reason why he looked forward to keeping a future with them).

 

---

---

---

 

Elise didn’t clearly remember the day when Rean was welcomed into her household. She only remembered the week a boy with long, raven hair and dull lilac eyes started to become a constant existence in her life.

Her parents told her that he was her older brother, but… She didn’t think he was one at all.

She always imagined what it was like to have a sibling—especially an older sibling. She thought those types of siblings would spoil her and protect her like they were some kind of awesome prince or knight. She heard that the eldest sons of nobles were many degrees of charming, dependable, and even playful. At the very least, she hoped that getting an older brother would mean that she would have a person to play with at home.

However…

"Rean!" Her eyes lit up as she bounded toward him, grabbing his arm with enthusiasm. "Do you want to go outside with me and build snowmen?"

"Sorry. Not in the mood."

Rean wasn’t like what she hoped for at all. He was nowhere close to her expectations. He often refused to play with her or talk with her. He always gave her an excuse that he was not feeling in the mood to interact with her. 

 

...He was never in the mood to interact with her.

 

Every single day, Elise asked him if he wanted to play in the snow or even help one of their neighbors build a snowboarding course.

“Sorry” was always his answer.

 

...So fake.

 

That word meant nothing to her if he never intended to change his answer in the future.

Elise thought that—maybe—she was being annoying. Maybe she was demanding too much like some other nobles she knew. Maybe the problem lay within her.

It didn’t take her long to realize that it was Rean who was the problem.

He never returned any of mother’s hugs.

He never greeted father when he returned home from hunting or from a noble’s meeting. 

Never smiled—Never showed he was happy to be with them!

How rude and ungrateful! It was not that hard to do these things. Elise would not consider him her brother if he didn’t bother to at least show her parents any appreciation. 

Though she really did not understand why her parents would be okay with his disrespectfulness. She did not understand why he was not punished for not showing any love toward them.

In fact, she did not understand why mother and father continued to shower Rean with kindness. Sometimes they stayed by his side at night whenever he supposedly had nightmares, later waking up with bags under their eyes. Sometimes they spent many minutes and hours trying to coax him out of his room whenever he locked himself inside. Sometimes father set aside time to teach him how to play the lute or how to ride a horse while mother set aside time to teach him how to cook. 

It was unfair. Elise had to act like a ‘good girl’ to get the things she wanted while Rean didn’t have to do anything to get these things. 

What made him special? She heard from other noble children that Rean wasn’t her real brother—that he wasn’t actually a real part of her family.

It made no sense why he was the one being more spoiled and the one being shown more delicate care than her. What kind of older brother was he to need this?

---

“Why is Rean here?”

She finally gained the courage to sneak into her parents’ room one night and ask the question that had been bothering her for these past few weeks. 

Their heads turned to glance at each other in silent confusion and concern before turning to face her.

“What do you mean, sweetie?” her father asked as he climbed out of bed and kneeled right next to her, keeping their eyes level with each other. 

Elise took a deep breath because she knew that her next words were relatively harsh. She wondered if it was bad to be thinking… to be feeling these things. 

“Why does Rean live here? He doesn’t care about us.”

I don't like him.

“Why do you think he doesn’t care?” her mother asked softly, now sitting beside her. 

“Well, he doesn’t do anything nice to us. He just… does nothing.”

Her response caused both her parents to frown. 

“It’s not that he doesn’t care, it’s that…” Her father trailed off and he wore his thinking face, as if he was trying to figure out how to explain a complicated subject to a child. “He cares too much.”

But if he cared so much, then he would show it, right? Just like how she showed her family that she cared by always hugging them and telling them that she loved them. Just like how she usually tried to get them to smile and be happy. Wasn’t that how people showed love? 

Well, supposing Rean was incapable of that much, he should, at the very least, smile and show that he felt some degree of happiness or gratefulness for being here. As of now, he seemed to not care about anything. 

Sensing her befuddlement, her mother added, “He doesn’t want to be loved, so he acts in a way that won’t get people to like him.”

That didn’t make any sense. 

Why would someone not want to receive love? Love was something that made Elise feel safe and comfortable with her family.

To not want it… She had to wonder how Rean could be happy with that decision. 

However, there was a bigger question on her mind.

“Why would you love him when he doesn’t want it?”

Even though she couldn’t understand the concept of not wanting to be loved, she did understand what it was like to be given something she didn’t want. 

With a patient look, her father softly sighed. “Love’s not something you can control. We may have initially had a reason for bringing Rean home and made it our duty to take care of him, but...” he let out a breathy chuckle. “Eventually people forget about the reason why they love someone and still continue loving them.”

So they loved Rean for no reason?

Gentle arms suddenly wrapped around her back as she was pulled into her mother’s embrace. “It’s like how we love you,” she fondly whispered. “It’s purely unconditional. Yes, taking care of him will take more effort than to take care of you, but it’s all worth seeing him—seeing both of you grow into people you’ll be proud of. The pain of waiting for that is nothing compared to the joy we’ll feel when you’re both very happy with yourselves.”

Her father joined in on the hug, adding one last piece.

“Anyway, even if he hates being loved, we’ll give it to him anyway. It's a family privilege.”

---

Elise liked her parents’ answer about love. When put that way, it made sense how they could be so patient with Rean. She, however, did not like how he refused to be loved.

Her thoughts always returned to how anyone could desire to not be loved. It just didn’t make sense. She wanted to be loved by her parents. People at church wanted to be loved by Aidios. It didn’t matter where it was from, love was something people needed.

She didn’t think it was possible for someone to wish to not be loved. 

And so, her conclusion was that, despite what her parents said, Rean did desire to be loved. The reason he was acting indifferently to her family was because he didn’t want to be loved by this family. That was the only reason, she thought. 

With that assumption, Elise’s contempt for her supposed-brother grew worse. Her parents were the best parents in the world! How could he not want to be loved by them?

It was insulting.

Frustrating. 

Elise didn’t want to share her parents with someone who obviously didn’t want them. 

She absolutely hated it when, a couple months later, her parents told her that Rean would play with her outside. They said that he agreed to watch over her and make sure she stayed out of danger; after all, older siblings should protect their younger siblings.

Elise huffed at that logic. There were a lot of things Rean should have been doing, but he wasn't. What was the difference here? She didn’t want to be protected by someone as disrespectful as him. She was completely fine just by herself. 

Plus, she highly doubted that Rean would actually protect her if it was ever necessary. If he didn’t seem to care about their parents, then he wouldn’t care about her, who had been trying to avoid him as much as possible. 

At first, she always glared at him whenever she caught sight of him. She didn’t want to play with him. She didn’t want to be anywhere near him.

What was even more frustrating was that Rean didn’t seem to care. With his usual blank expression, he watched their surroundings, completely unaffected. 

He wasn’t even trying to form any kind of bond with her—positive or negative. It was as if she was nothing to him, even though they were supposed to be family. It was like he thought she and her family were insignificant to him.

This was maddening.

Unacceptable.

But Elise didn’t say or do anything rash. She was still a good girl and didn’t want her parents to get angry. She did what she had to do and played with him a bit. By ‘a bit,’ they only just drew something a few times and wandered in the snow. 

She could simply wait. 

Surely, if Rean didn’t like them that much, he would eventually leave them all alone. 

---

Elise was eight years-old when an acquaintance of her father arrived in Ymir. 

This man also apparently wanted to teach Rean how to use a sword. 

She didn’t think much of it. Apparently, this meant that he would have to start training which required him to live in the mountains until his training was complete. All she could feel was relief because she didn’t have to think about him for a while. Her life could return to normal, the way it was before he arrived.

In the following weeks and months, she noticed how the bags underneath her parents’ eyes lessened. They seemed less stressed and less worried. It was as if they were recovering from something.

And that was the moment she realized that Rean was a burden to her parents. They had to constantly pamper him like he was a baby, using up a lot of their energy while all they received was backlash from the other nobles and silence from their supposed son.

Yes, they did talk about how Rean was doing based on Yun Ka-Fai’s letters and they did seem happy at how things on his end seemed to be progressing. However, they couldn’t deny that they were much less tense now that he was gone. 

It was still a mystery to her how they missed Rean. Missing him would be like missing a plague, something that drained energy and worsened one’s overall health.

Really, how could they say he belonged to their family if he seemed to be making everyone’s lives worse?

One day, she asked them.

Again, they were patient with her and were understanding. They knew that the siblings’ relationship with each other was rocky and tried to approach this gently.

“Like we said before, it’s because we love him.”

But why would they love someone who was hurting them?

“Try to look beyond his indifference. I’m sure once you truly try to get to know him, you’ll realize he’s not as mean as you think.”

Well, since he wasn’t here, she decided to look for clues from whatever he left behind.

The next day, she invaded his room. She had never seen the inside because Rean had always locked himself in the room. Now that she could, all she could say was that it was like a ghost had been living here. No trace of him here to understand.

Nothing about the room changed since he started living here. Nothing added or removed. Strange, considering she was sure he received items for his birthday—though she wouldn’t be surprised if he threw them away without another thought. 

She made two conclusions from this.

The first was that her parents were truly amazing people to love someone and not even expect to be loved back.

The second was that Rean must really not have liked their home if he wanted to leave no trace of himself in it. The efforts of her parents to love and take care of him were all for nothing.

How sad.

They did not deserve this kind of treatment. 

---

After many months, Rean returned with a tachi and a bag full of stuff, presumably from Master Yun Kafai. There was something about the air around him that seemed different, but she couldn’t tell what. She hoped that maybe he changed and that maybe he was more open.

Her hopes were true. But it wasn’t how she expected.

Rean did change. He went outside much more, only to practice his swordsmanship and hunt. In hindsight, this may have seemed like an improvement because he was doing something of his own will for once. However, it only turned out to be an excuse to stay away from home. It was harder for her parents to take care of him if he wasn’t around. 

This sparked a number of late-night one-sided arguments between her parents and the adopted son. And by ‘one-sided,’ she meant that her parents did most of the talking while Rean remained silent, unlistening.

Elise sometimes didn’t like listening to her parents when they scolded her, but it frustrated her to see him flat out ignore them.

Eventually, the bags grew under her parents’ eyes again. They still showed Rean their usual kindness—if not more—as well as stern parental scoldings, but she could tell that they were getting more tired and frustrated and impatient. 

Honestly, they looked like they were zombies. Like they were dying…

(Like Rean was killing her family—)

It was clear that their efforts were hopeless.

Rean refused to change. He refused to ever show them that he cared.

Elise was ten years old when she heard her mother crying in her father’s arms. Her sobs were muffled through the wall, but she could clearly hear her mother vent about how nothing they did nowadays seemed to be helping Rean. Tearfully, she was questioning whether or not they were good enough parents for him. 

Witnessing that made Elise snap, because— because—

Her parents were amazing! They were great! Patient, understanding, kind, caring— She couldn’t ask for anything more! They were too good for Rean and they shouldn’t be stressing themselves out so much for someone who clearly didn’t want it! Didn't need it!

He was just a terrible person who didn’t care about anything and she finally decided that enough was enough. Obviously kindness was getting them nowhere, so she sought him out to give him a piece of her mind. 

She found him standing in Ymir Valley, casually practicing sword swings. His motions stopped once he sensed her and his brow raised in confusion, knowing that Elise usually never looked for him. 

The snow crunched loudly beneath her angry footsteps until she was standing directly in front of him. He continued to watch her with confused and uneasy eyes until he was suddenly pulled down by the fist clenching the front of his shirt, forced to look back at Elise’s furious eyes on even level. 

He had the nerve to look like he didn’t understand her actions.

Well, that would have to change.

Glaring at him with all the frustration she could muster up, she furiously hissed.

“Mother is CRYING right now because of you!” 

 

He flinched. Good. That meant he was listening.

 

"These past three years, all they’ve been trying to do was help you and make you happy! They call you part of the family because they love and care for you! How DARE you treat it all like it’s nothing?!” 

Misty clouds formed from her heavy breathing as she gritted her teeth, waiting for Rean to make some kind of response. She genuinely wanted to know what kind of awful excuse he could come up with to justify his behavior.

He apparently had no excuse.

Silence met her ears, causing Elise’s blood to boil and she really felt like pushing him off a cliff. Instead, she settled for shoving him back to create some distance between them.

“Aren't you supposed to be the older child?!” She screamed, continuing her tirade as angry tears unintentionally streamed down her cheeks. She didn’t even know why she was crying. She wanted to look furious, not sad! “You’re not supposed to cause them more trouble than me! You’re supposed to know how to take care of yourself! You’re supposed to help them around the house! You’re supposed to be reliable and nice, not— not—!

“—Not you! ”

She didn’t even know how to describe everything that was awful about him. In a way, just saying his name would be enough to express everything wrong with him. Though, in the end, it didn’t matter because her frame shook while sobs overtook her voice as she cried in frustration.

“Why aren’t you saying anything?! Aren’t you going to defend yourself and say I’m wrong at least?! Say you’re not hopeless and this is all a misunderstanding and that you’ll apologize for worrying everyone!” 

More silence. 

However, through her tear-filled eyes, she saw something that absolutely enraged her and made her want to hurt him.

It was faint, but he had the gall to smile .

All of this… Everything meant nothing to him, didn’t it?

In an instant, she raised her hand and smacked him across the face, leaving a stinging sensation against her cold skin. She hoped that it felt worse for her target.

“YOU’RE THE WORST! LEAVE ME AND MY FAMILY ALONE!” 

Her throat ached. Her eyes stung.

It all hurt.

Rean needed to leave before he did more harm to her and her parents. No one deserved to cry because of him.

“I HATE YOU! I HATE YOU SO MUCH!”

She would say it a million more times but— Aidios, she couldn’t breathe anymore. Not enough air existed for her to burn him with her anger.

“I hate you…”

She felt dizzy now and her legs felt so weak. She could collapse right now, but she refused to let Rean see her so weak. Instead, she used the last of her energy to run.

To run as far away from Rean as possible. To never see his face again, even though she knew that wouldn’t happen. 

Why— Why did he have to be her brother?

Why did her parents choose him to be her brother?

He was so stupid— 

A burden—

A plague— 

So awful— 

Cruel— 

Confusing—

Hopeless— 

As if in tune with her flurried emotions, the falling snow grew fiercer, becoming a light snow storm. Eventually there was a gust of wind that hit her, powerful enough to knock her off her feet. 

She would’ve landed on a large bank of snow if not for someone catching her. 

Thinking it was Rean, she thrashed in their arms, yelling, “LET ME GO!” 

She was only silenced when she felt the cold sting of metal on her neck and noticed that a knife was being held against her delicate skin. Eyes widening, she noticed that the hands gripping her were too large to belong to Rean.

“Ooh, looks like we caught the Baron’s daughter~” a deep voice sounded next to her ear. “Wonder how much ransom they’ll pay for her?”

Where the heck did this person come from?!

“No— Stop—!” she squirmed in his grip but was stopped when the knife dug into her neck and drew blood.

“Careful there, girlie.” A woman arrived, approaching her with a gun in her hand. “We’re ex-jaegers. If you know what that is, then you’d know we’re not afraid to hurt you.”

Oh Aidios, no… More tears fell from her eyes, already emotionally distraught from earlier. How foolish it was of her to run deep in the valley when she couldn’t even protect herself! Even if these people didn’t appear, she would’ve surely been attacked by monsters.

Hah. She bitterly whimpered. She had been screaming at Rean for giving her parents trouble but it seemed she was doing the same. 

It was all worthless, too.

Rean seemed to have no intention of ending their suffering and worries. 

Before she felt the man pull her hands behind her back and begin to tie them with some kind of rope, she heard a voice call out her name.

“Elise!” 

The sound was so unfamiliar. She didn’t think she’d ever heard that voice call her name out before. The man pulled her close to his body as he turned them around to face the source of the voice. 

Running towards them, she saw Rean desperately running up the snowy slope to reach them. 

“Hold it right there, kid!” the woman yelled, pointing the gun at him. “Unless you want a bullet in your skull!”

Elise gasped at the threat.

They— They could really die right here and now, couldn't they?

It would be the end for them with one wrong step.

However… 

Rean didn’t stop. 

 

As if that threat meant nothing to him.

 

As warned, the woman pulled the trigger of her gun, the sound of gunfire reverberating through the valley. Elise screamed in terror, knowing he was done for. Even though her opinion of Rean was admittedly very low, she didn’t want him to die. 

But…

 

He didn’t die.

 

To everyone’s shock, Rean managed to dodge the bullet by making a small leap to the side, raven locks of hair fading to the color of snow that swirled around them. They were met with a pair of sharp, gleaming red eyes that promised no mercy as the sound of his tachi leaving his scabbard echoed through their ears.

*chhk*

She couldn’t see the movement with her eyes, too fast for her to keep track, but she was aware that he cut something because of the blood that splattered over the ground.

Blood. So much.

Too much.

Mere moments later, the woman who had been pointing the gun at him suddenly collapsed to the ground. More red soaked the white snow in front of her as a strangled noise bubbled up from her throat.

It took a while for Elise to realize that...

The woman was dying.

The sight repulsed her, making her head more dizzy as she suddenly threw up over herself, disregarding the fact that a knife was still held against her throat. 

She only regained her bearings when she felt the stinging sensation on her own neck intensify, hearing the man yell at the indifferent boy.

 

Did Rean not care that he just killed someone?

Was there nothing he cared about?

Not even death?

(Though, if she looked carefully, she would’ve noticed a flicker of some kind of emotion pass through those empty, red eyes.)

 

“Make another move and she dies!”

Elise did not expect Rean to stop because she knew he didn’t care about her life. She had literally just condemned him with all her hateful words. She didn’t know what he thought of her before, but there was no way she could be seen in a positive light from his eyes. 

That threat should’ve been meaningless to him like the first one. 

But he listened. And stopped moving.

For only a moment.

Swiftly, before anyone could react, he swung his arm again. Promptly, Elise felt the man’s grip on her loosen as the knife fell from his grasp. 

Given how her body was only one-third the size of the man’s, she understood that her body couldn’t be an effective meat-shield. Feeling blood splatter against her body and hearing a soft thud in the snow behind her, she didn’t dare to look back.

 

Especially since her attention was now captured by the blade pointing at her face.

 

This was it, then.

Something about how her supposed adoptive brother threatened her with his sword made her blood freeze in a way no blizzard ever could. A spark of mirth crossed his normally dull eyes as a chuckle escaped his throat, and all she could think was that Rean was finally showing his true colors. 

He was a monster.

Her parents were wrong, so, so wrong to love a monster like him. 

 

“...You’re right.”  

 

...Huh?

 

For someone who was smiling, he jarringly sounded awfully miserable. “I already knew… that I’m the worst. I make trouble for everyone I meet. I’m really not worthy of their care…" He let out a long self-deprecating sigh. "I keep trying to stay away from them, but they won’t stop. It’s an endless cycle of suffering for them.”

His sword was lowered, reminding Elise that she could breath as she watched his arm fall limp by his side. Though his red eyes were still intense, they seemed to soften, as well as his smile. 

This action befuddled Elise, thinking that he was about to kill her.

However, now… He had a kind look on his face.

 

Why would he make that face to her after everything she said to him?

 

“But I think…” He looked down at his blood-dripping sword after briefly glancing at the dead jaegers, speaking with a strange gruffness to his voice. “This experience helped me find the solution to end the cycle now. It should’ve been obvious to someone like me, actually... 'Can’t believe I only thought about it now.”

He let out another hollow chuckle.

For a few moments, he was silent, seemingly debating something in his head. Elise wondered if she should use this chance to run home, but her body froze upon feeling his gaze return to her.

“Will you tell our pare— your parents that I'm sorry and I promise I won’t cause them any more trouble? Naturally, I promise I won’t cause you any more trouble either, Elise.”

A confused noise escaped her throat. She didn't know what to make of his words. It sounded too good to be true, especially after he just ruthlessly murdered two people. But, now that she thought about it, these were bad people and he was only trying to protect her. Sure, it made her sick and made her feel like passing out, but...

In a way, he kind of acted like a cool knight, just a little too… bloody. But... it was self-defense and he did it to save her, right?

Even though she said such terrible things, he actually cared… right?

Maybe he wasn’t hopeless. Maybe she completely misjudged him. Maybe... she didn’t try hard enough to understand him. 

Still, she couldn’t make any assumptions when he was so unpredictable. “You promise?”

“I promise.”

Since the first time they met, she felt like this was the first honest conversation he’d ever held with her. Hearing him like this surprisingly made a little bit of the anger she felt toward him disappear. 

Well, since he promised, maybe things would get better now? Maybe he’d start showing that he cared about them and her parents would stop being tired and worried. Maybe they could live as a normal, happy family now?

Maybe she could stop hating him? Maybe she could finally try to love him like he was family?

Wiping her tears away, she started walking toward the entrance of the valley so she could return home. The snow softly crunched down under her own footsteps, but not under Rean’s. Glancing back, she noticed how he hadn’t moved from his spot.

“What are you waiting for?” she asked, deliberately avoiding the sight of the bodies and blood. Briefly, she wondered what would be done about them. They couldn’t just ignore this, could they? She would… have to tell their parents about this...

He smiled again. This time it was sheepish, yet reassuring.

“Ah, give me a few minutes. I’m a little... tired.”

“Okay then, goodbye for now.” 

“Goodbye.”

Nodding, she walked down the slope. 

Somehow, despite how a lot of terrible things happened today, everything turned out fine.

Everything was going to be alright, now.

Finally.

 

…

 

Out of simple curiosity, she glanced back at him one more time.

Her eyes lied upon the sight of Rean still standing on blood-stained snow, holding his blade out.

The only difference was the look of hysteria clouding his eyes and… the sharp point of the sword that was pointing toward himself.

What..? Why was he..?

“I tried— I really tried, but I can't change! I’m just… too evil—!” His voice cracked as his fingers trembled around his grip on his sword. “This whole time, the person I should’ve been protecting everyone from was… myself.”

Tears started to flow down his cheeks.

“I- I’m sorry Lianne… Master Yun Ka-Fai… Schwarzers… dad… mom...“

Ashen hair returned to black.

Intense red eyes faded to an unseeing lilac.

 

“I love you all…”

 

He said it. He actually loved— 

But if he loved them, why did— 

The blade sank into his flesh—through his body—causing an eerily loud squelching noise that would haunt Elise forever.

Then, it was like time had frozen as the snow stopped and almost every color bled away from all life, leaving only dark crimson. The edges of her vision were fading black as she could only focus on this sight.

He… Rean, he— 

Crumpled to the ground softly, breathing even breaths.

Not at all disturbed by what he did.

Horrified, she shifted her feet in confusion, unsure of whether or not to step backward or forward. To help or get help—

Unfortunately, her foot landed on a piece of ice, causing her body to fall backwards, hitting the slope of the hill and rolling down by the force of gravity.

As she tumbled down, farther away from Rean and closer to her house, her mind replayed that scene in her head.

SQUELCH

Sword through his body.

From one end to another.

SQUELCH

Tears down his face.

Blood soaking his clothes.

SQUELCH

A look of resignation.

And...

SQUELCH

A sad smile.

 

Rean just stabbed himself.

What did that mean?

Why— 

But he promised that he wouldn’t trouble them anymore!

 

…

 

He promised that he wouldn’t trouble them anymore.

 

…

 

This had to be a nightmare, right? 

But the harsh crunches of snow and ice that brushed against her during her descent down the mountain were too clear.

The biting cold was too painful.

If this was a dream, surely the rush of pain that suddenly exploded from the back of her head would have woken her up.

But, instead, she fell asleep.

---

A day later, she woke up in her room to learn that she lost consciousness from knocking her head against a rock. She gained a concussion, causing her to not remember the events leading up to that.

Her parents had apparently retrieved her and brought her to a doctor. Since then, they’d been taking care of her while not revealing any details about what happened. 

It took a few days to fully orient herself and remember what exactly happened. The moment she remembered, she couldn’t stop herself from screaming and crying, having bits and pieces of those bloody events mercilessly replay in her mind.

So many emotions— 

So much death— 

Rean’s death— 

She felt sick.

Her mother rushed into her room and wrapped her in a tight embrace, calming her down. By the time Elise’s sobs regressed into small sniffles, her mother revealed what had happened afterwards.

After they found her passed out on the ground, her mother took her home while her father explored the valley to find Rean. He found him sitting in the snow, still breathing and somewhat conscious, along with two dead jaegers in the surrounding area. With no haste, he shrugged off his coat and wrapped it around Rean’s wound, carried him back to the village and straight to a doctor.

Rean survived and was now resting in his room, with their father beside him. (And at some point, father and some neighbors gave the ex-jaegers a proper burial.)

In the meantime, Elise was comforted by her mother as she explained the sequence of events that led to Rean hurting himself. 

She ended her confession by spouting a million apologies because it was her fault—if she didn’t seek Rean out, get angry at him and run off then this probably wouldn’t have happened. If— If she paid more attention to Rean, then maybe she would’ve realized that the situation was more complicated than she thought and maybe he had a reason for acting like he did. Because— Because— 

Insufferably disrespectful people didn’t just randomly decide to kill themselves.

(Unless this was some cruel joke, using his own life to torment them forever.)

This whole time, she thought that he didn’t care about them. It was clear now that he simply didn’t care about himself, unintentionally troubling the people who did happen to care about him.

So confusing. If she thought refusing love was unbelievable, she thought hating oneself was even more unbelievable.

And yet… She could understand the feeling. After all, with all the guilt over her actions now, Elise didn’t exactly hold herself in quite a high regard at the moment. 

She expected to be scolded by her mother once everything was out. Instead, a warm hand wiped away her tears as her mother told her everyone made mistakes. It was simply Elise’s job to fix it and make sure not to repeat it.

Elise swore she would never do something like this again. 

---

After a long talk alone with their parents, Elise was finally allowed inside his room. If she thought Rean’s eyes were dull before, then they were practically dead now. This whole time, she thought his eyes were dull because he didn’t care. It turned out they were dull because they were empty. And now they were dead because they were dead .

She didn’t know why he decided to try to take his life, but she was sure her hateful words that day were a trigger.

She... basically killed him with her words alone.

How terrifying. To kill him with words as easily as he killed those jaegers.

Immediately, she bowed her head down to him. With tearful eyes, she cried out, “I’m sorry, Rean!”

She waited minutes for a response, only to realize that she wasn’t going to receive one. She looked up to see that nothing about him moved. He didn’t even glance at her. He simply continued to stare at the nothingness that was in front of him. 

It was like his mind was gone...

(She would never forget this sight.)

---

“Hi Rean! Today’s a special day! It may come as a surprise to you, but...”

 

They went to so many doctors and hospitals, yet none of them knew what was wrong with Rean. They even consulted the Septian Church to see if he had somehow been possessed by a devil or something, but they were told that was not the case. 

 

“Happy birthday! You’re turning fourteen years-old today! Can you believe how fast time flies? Mother and Father are currently getting things ready to celebrate, but they will be here soon… 

“I know they said to wait, but I want to show my present to you now.”

 

Between all the appointments and all the traveling, Elise talked to Rean every day for so many hours. 

She apologized. 

She talked about the simple stuff. 

She talked about her life. 

She talked to him, finally making an attempt to get to know him. 

Anything to get a reaction out of him. 

 

“Hehe, do you recognize it? It’s from the one time we drew together even though you seemed kind of reluctant while I… Well, you know how I felt about you back then. Anyway, I told you that we would be drawing any outfits we wouldn’t mind wearing. You got pretty creative...”

 

How ironic that she was attempting to do this now, when there was now no way any part of him could see or hear her.

 

“You named the drawing, 'Unspeakable Costume R.' And so, what I’m holding now is your drawing coming to life! I got the fabrics and other material and sewed it up! It’s kind of big, but I’m sure you will fit it in the future. 

“Will you wear it in the future?”

 

Every day, she gave him company even though she felt more alone.

Every day, she helped take care of him even though it hurt.

 

“I- um- I know this is selfish of me to ask, but… Can you wake up soon? Please? I want to apologize to you for all the things I said that day.  I want to thank you for protecting me that day... I want to let you know that I don’t hate you anymore. 

"I want to… try to become a real sister to you, if you’re okay with that—It’s understandable if you don’t though! I’ll be happy as long as you make the choice.”

 

Originally, her actions were fueled purely by guilt. She wanted to undo the consequences of her actions by returning Rean back to normal.   

Eventually, however, she realized that he would never return back to normal. 

Eventually, she gave up on guilt. There was no point in waiting for a day to hear him forgive her when she was pretty sure she couldn’t even forgive herself.

 

“I didn’t realize it until it was too late, but… I was wrong. You gave our parents trouble, but what kind of child doesn’t ? You never should have made that promise. I cause them trouble, too, but it’s such an insignificant detail to them...

"Sure, they get upset and frustrated at times, but they don’t regret taking care of us. They don’t regret seeing you try to grow ... Even though I was blind to all of your growth . 

“While I didn’t agree with your behavior, I have to admit that they smiled more with you here— I’m not saying that they weren’t happy before, just that you helped them gain extra happiness... 

“To achieve that means… You have a place here with us.”

 

Instead, her actions became fueled by hope. Just simple, blind hope that he would one day become alive again. Hope that, if that day ever came, she would try to understand him and see what made him happy. Maybe then, she would come to love him as a real sibling.

 

“Please… Give me a second chance— Give yourself a second chance! Things may have started off terribly, but that doesn’t mean the future has to be the same! We can create a happy ending as long as you don’t let it end here! Please!”

 

(Though… The fact that she didn’t stop taking care of him despite how much her own life was taking a hit for it… she wondered if it was already love… or simply pity.)

 

“Please, Rean… Wake up…”

 

---

 

Life was like this for nearly two years.

Precisely, twenty-one dreadful months and twelve days had gone by when father gave up on the doctors.

“I don’t care about what he says. The only option I can think of is to bring Rean to him !”

Those were father’s last words before he took Rean and disappeared to a place Elise was not allowed to know.

...

A week later, they returned to Ymir.

Elise tried so much to prepare to meet her brother again. Assuming— Hoping he would be back to his old self, she knew she had to be

Patient.

Kind.

Inclusive.

Cheerful.

Hopefully, with enough time, Rean would fully crawl out of his shell and open up. Then, they could finally understand each other and be at least comfortable in each other’s presence. 

Seeing the figures of their father and adoptive brother walk towards their home, Elise rushed to the door and held it open for them.

The first thing she noticed was that he wasn’t holding onto their father’s hand. He was walking by himself with no guidance for the first time in about two years.

The second thing she noticed was that his eyes were simply dull again. Not completely dead. There was a faint gleam of light that indicated that he was somewhat seeing what was going on around him again. 

The third thing she noticed was that he was smiling at her.

She thought she would feel joyful at seeing this change.

Instead, she felt dread. 

Fear.

There were only three times she had seen him smile before: When she yelled at him, when he killed those jaegers, and when he stabbed himself.

And now… He seemed to be always smiling.

Oh, Aidios, what had she done?

This was all wrong.

So wrong.

Still…

“Welcome back, Rean!” she called out with a bright grin. Even though his smile was unsettling, she felt genuinely glad that he was living again. She truly hoped this would be a new beginning for all of them.

The moment he stood in front of their house, she walked up to him and wrapped him in her arms. She could feel his entire body stiffen while he awkwardly stood in her embrace, doing nothing.

He didn’t hug back.

But that was okay.

At least…

“I’m back?” he said, though he sounded so confused that his statement sounded like a question. 

“You’re back,” she repeated to him, making sure that question was a fact. 

---

Life did not go back to the way it was before that incident.

Since he returned home, he acted like a completely different person. Instead of being holed up in his room whenever he didn’t have to look after her, he busied himself with chores around the house and around the town. He even did chores that other members of the family were responsible for. 

It seemed like no one knew how to deal with this change. They thought they had to go through a long recovery process with Rean, but it did not seem to be needed with how he acted so normal, in a not-normal-Rean way. Their parents decided to treat him as usual, while giving him extra reminders that they cared for him and did not want him to harm himself again.

Meanwhile... Elise didn't know what to feel.

When she went outside, he ‘eagerly’ tagged along and participated in whatever snow games she wanted to do. When she walked past the stores and stared particularly long at one thing, he spoiled her by getting it for her. And when Elise wanted to walk up the mountain to pick up some rare flowers, he led her, shielding her behind his back just in case any monsters tried to attack them before they got to their destination.

He literally did everything she asked him to do with no complaint.

He was… acting exactly like the ideal older brother Elise had always wanted.

...She didn’t want this. 

She just wanted Rean to be Rean — 

Ironically, she was only comforted by the fact that he still struggled with receiving and giving signs of love. He still didn’t like hugging—touching people. Or being given compliments. Or receiving gifts. Or saying “I love you.” Perhaps those were things about him that could, sadly, never change. However, those were the only things that strayed from her ideal, which meant that he chose to behave this way. 

On the other hand, it also meant that he didn’t feel like he belonged here—or anywhere. 

Not to mention…

“Rean, I’m sorry for all the mean things I said to you.”

She said these words many times in many different ways during his ‘empty shell’ phase. Even now, when she knew he heard her, she never stopped apologizing. 

“I forgive you.”

That was always his response. Yet she never felt even the slightest bit of forgiveness.

“Aren’t you going to get angry at me? Tell me to earn your forgiveness? Or have some kind of punishment?” It was too easy to just be forgiven with those three words. Plus, in all the time that she knew him, he never got angry. She wondered if that meant he never felt anger or he was just bottling the emotion up.

...She wanted him to be angry with her. What she did was unforgivable.

“You’ve been punished enough by taking care of me these past two years.”

No she didn’t. She failed to take care of him if he was always going to wear the facade of her perfect older brother. Even though he was talking and moving around by himself, it still felt like he was dead because he was acting like how others wanted him to be instead of how he wanted to be.

With that realization, tears threatened to fall from her eyes.

She wanted to cry so much. She wanted to yell at him to return to normal and they would still accept him for who he was , but she didn’t want a repeat of the last time she blew up at him. 

Instead, she spilled her emotions to her parents and she begged them to let her go away for a while. She begged them to let her enroll and move to St. Astraia Girl’s School because maybe he was acting this way only for her. After all, she was the only one who had wished he was different. 

Just after she left, she was told that Rean was starting rehab where he’d be gone for five days a week. 

That... was a relief to hear. At least he was going to get better, too. 

---

The first time she returned home to visit, she made up her mind to treat Rean nicely. He still acted like her ideal older brother, but that didn’t matter. Whether or not he was acting real or fake, he was still her older brother. She wanted to give him a chance and love him like family. 

For a long time, talking to him was not awkward but it was stiff. She mostly carried the conversation, recalling experiences she had at school. Sometimes, he told her stories about what happened in Ymir, but he never talked about rehab. She supposed it was a sensitive topic to him and said nothing about it. 

Every conversation with him ended with the same result: Her barely learning anything about him.

That changed, however, when she finally decided to give Alfin’s ‘advice’ a try.

“I think there’s a guy in Heimdallr who really, really likes me.”

The steady sounds of a knife chopping vegetables suddenly halted as he slowly turned to look at her. His eyes were wide, probably with shock, while the rest of his face remained blank.

“Oh. Okay.” In the same pace as before, his hand resumed to cut the food on the chopping board. “Do you like him back?”

“No. I just sometimes see him watching me. That’s why I think he likes me.”

The force that was used to cut the vegetables suddenly intensified. 

“Name, address, and appearance.”

“Er…” Elise watched how Rean was now rapidly cutting the vegetables until they were tiny, tiny pieces. “I don’t actually know him, but he has brown hair and glasses. He’s also five rege taller than you, I think.”

“Okay.”

His response was confusing. Honestly, Alfin had predicted that he would suddenly go into ‘overprotective older brother mode’ for some reason and advised Elise to exploit that trait and tease him about it. His reaction here was a little disappointing, but she did learn that Rean was pretty skilled with a knife and they bonded over him teaching her how to cut food better.

(That following week, the Ashen Saint apparently solved a serial stalker case and Elise never saw the guy who liked her ever again.)

Overall, she could say their relationship improved even though she still felt guilty every time she saw his ‘perfect big brother’ mask on. 

Fortunately or unfortunately, however, there were times when his facade broke down a bit. She was proud that she could notice— that she could see the shadows pass his eyes and a different smile to his usual polite one. The look always reminded her of the incident, and so she always remained silently by his side while he went through these thoughts. 

She didn’t know anymore whether these thoughts were a real or fake part of him. The only thing she did know was to snap him out of it when he had this look for too long. From personal experience, she now knew that it was okay to think things through. But sometimes thinking too long could cause one to spiral and even reach certain… conclusions.

If she had to flick him in the head a hundred times a day to avoid this, she gladly would.

---

When he told her that he was finishing rehab and was going to enroll at Thors Military Academy, she hugged him in excitement. He even wanted her to give him a haircut! This truly seemed like a new beginning for him, and she hoped that he could be free and act like his true self there.

Then, maybe, he would be comfortable enough to act like his true self around their family.

...

Those hopes were dashed when she received a call that he was stuck in a hospital, acting like an empty shell once again. 

Maybe attending school was a bad idea for Rean— 

Maybe it was too soon—

Maybe she shouldn’t have left his side— 

Oh Goddess, was he never going to recover this ti— 

 

I’m okay.

-Rean S.

 

Those two words on his letter to her were enough to make collapse in Alfin’s arms out of relief. Though, to her surprise, Rean insisted to their family that he wanted to keep attending Thors. 

Their parents reluctantly let him continue, only because it seemed like he actually wanted to stay in school. 

This was the first time they could give him what he wanted . 

 

---

---

---

 

Elise was at the Heimdallr Train Station when she saw her brother walking out of a train with his red-uniformed classmates.

He was a stranger.

His eyes were so bright. It was like he actually wanted to see the world instead of continuing to hide in his head and his fake act.

—And then his smile—His laughter—!

It did not sound awkward. Or like he was laughing only because he felt expected to laugh or needed to buy some time to gather his thoughts.

For the most part, it sounded… Free. Relaxed. Uncontrolled.

As if he was laughing for himself instead of for others.

Was this… Rean?

Elise figured she would find out now, because she was already running toward him and wrapping her arms around him in a hug. He must’ve been caught off guard because he was literally knocked off his feet and they landed on the ground with a loud thud. Feeling how his body tensed as usual at the close contact, she knew it was him and— 

Wait, did he just head pat her?

That was new, yet not unwelcome.

Afterwards, she introduced herself to her classmates, but most of what was said went over her head because— 

“Thanks for throwing me under the bus, Alisa.” 

Did Rean just use sarcasm?

Impossible. She wanted to see more of him. She wanted to learn more about the classmates who unveiled this side of him. But first off...

“Thank you, really, for taking care of him.” 

Thank you, for giving him a place where he can thrive and comfortably be relaxed and happy.

Even these words weren’t enough to express her gratitude, so she hoped to convey all her emotions through her voice and emotions.

If that worked, she didn’t know. However, she supposed she could thank them—thank the entire class again later. Unfortunately, she didn’t have time now. She had to go with Captain Claire and Alfin to the Imperial Villa.

(Plus, she did not want to give Alfin more material to tease her about.)

Oh well, at least there was the future. If he was so comfortable around his classmates, then she didn’t have to worry about his future, right?

Feeling hope and anticipation for the future, she tightly hugged Rean one more time before she left. “We will talk later! And Rean, I’m still waiting for your letter!”

“I already sent it.”

Oh thank Aidios— 

And she felt his fingers ruffle her hair this time. Still not a hug, but these gestures were steps in the right direction! It was a sign that he was reciprocating— accepting affection for once!

She really couldn’t believe this was happening.

 

As she happily skipped away from her short reunion with her brother, she couldn’t help but wonder...

...Maybe it wouldn’t be so hopeless to hope a day may come by when Rean would finally choose to hug his family back.

 

---

---

 

“Isn’t family very peculiar?” A man said, sitting at the foot of the plateau. From the top of the raised land stood a nomadic settlement, full of laughing children, encouraging adults, and bleating sheep. “To love without condition… To love without reason… I would usually believe that people who feel these things are simply not putting enough analysis into their so-called love.”

He received no response from the masked woman beside him, though that was expected. Still, he felt compelled to continue his monologue, experiencing a certain satisfaction from mocking the idea of family in front of a former loving mother.

"After all, people are selfish beings and they always act with reason, whether they know it or not… However," His fingers brushed against a certain family photo in his pocket. "I fortunately have insight on that kind of concept, so I can believe that that type of love actually does exist. That is why I know...”

His other hand moved to tap a device— the artifact that was resting beside him. It would work well in silencing the cheerful noise above them.

“...How satisfying it is to destroy such an ultimate form of love.”

Deviously smirking, his eyes flicked back to the woman who made no response.

“Wouldn’t you agree, Orchid Brünnhilde?”

Notes:

And with the third field study, a third piece of Rean’s past has been revealed! (This was originally supposed to be a light-hearted interlude before we entered Nord... whoops).

I know I only foreshadowed it like once a long time ago because, in a messed up way, this event doesn't even bother him enough for him to think about it often (gee, thanks Ishmelga), so I hope I caught you off guard in a good way with how Rean and Elise's sibling relationship started out. At least they're getting better... until Elise receives a certain letter (I totally can’t wait for a certain rooftop scene we all know that's coming). :3

Also, can you guess who the two people were at the end? It’s probably obvious, given my very non-subtle hints here, so I’ll just put this fun fact: Brünnhilde is one of the characters from Siegfried (the opera), just like (Azure) Siegfried and (Black) Alberich.

Next chapter - Chapter 14: My Place
(We finally getting to Nord where everything's TOTALLY peaceful!!!!)

Thanks for reading, I’d appreciate a comment, and take care!

Chapter 14: My Place

Notes:

The field study group is the same as canon (except Millium is here since the beginning): Rean, Gaius, Alisa, Emma, Jusis, Millium.

Here's October's chapter! In September (well, for me, at least)!

Black Alberich was a… cruel man. He often carried a family photo taken of Franz, Irina, Gwyn, and Alisa, but it wasn't because he held some lingering feelings toward that family.

“I carry this photo as a gleeful reminder of what’s broken: The happiness I destroyed from that family” was the answer Alberich once gave Rean, maliciously smirking as his red eyes sadistically twinkled. “It pains the 'other me' so much that it's delightful. After all, to destroy one’s own happiness is the ultimate sign of faithfulness to Lord Ishmelga.”

That memory was the only thing Rean could think about as Alisa complained about her mother after they had another unexpected reunion at Roer’s train station. Clearly, the relationship between mother and daughter was strained and he was sure, somewhere in the world, Black Alberich was cackling. 

(Not like Rean was much better; he knew the truth yet he didn’t do anything to help.)

Sighing, he shifted his focus from his thoughts to his classmates’ conversation on their last train ride to Nord.

“Usually, she seems like she’s only interested in her work, but then she’ll suddenly start meddling in my life. She SAYS to just do what I want, but it always turns out that wherever I go, she’s there ahead of me!” The blonde sighed and leaned back, slumping in her seat as she uncrossed her legs. “If she’s going to not act like she cares, she might as well not even bother helping me!”

Millium tilted her head at the blond, enthusiastically swinging her legs back and forth. “I dunno, that sounds kinda fun!” 

“For once, I agree with Millium. Most people would be grateful to have a parent display that much interest,” Jusis said, showing no emotion on his face as his eyes challenged Alisa’s.

“It’s a problem when there’s too much interest!”

“It’s a problem when there is too little interest.”

It seemed as though his two classmates were shooting lightning at each other with their glares, though it was understandable because both had completely opposite relationships with their parents. It certainly didn’t help that most of his classmates didn’t even know about Jusis’s strained relationship with his father. After all, too many things happened in Bareahard so that little detail of their classmate might have been overshadowed. 

“Hmm…” Millum put a thumb under her chin, deep in thought. After a few seconds, she tugged at Gaius’ shoulder. “I don’t really know about this stuff because I don’t really have any parents, so how much do you think a parent should meddle in their kids’ lives?”

Gaius didn’t answer immediately, instead choosing to hum as a thoughtful look graced his face. Eventually, his lips warmly twitched upwards. “I wouldn’t call it meddling, but I think finding a balance between the two extremes would be best.”

The curious glint in Millium’s amber eyes only intensified. “But what’s the balance?”

“Um…” Emma spoke up, gaining their attention to share her opinion on the subject. “It’s different for every child. Some people want to have more attention from their parents while others want less.” She paused, letting her hand move to adjust her glasses before she continued. “Though, if my guardians couldn’t get that right, I would prefer if they coddled me with affection even if I hated it.”

“Hmm…” It was clear that the youngest member in their group was trying really hard to understand this. “What about you, Rean? You have more insight on this because you had, like, four parents, right?”

“Millium—” Jusis hissed. “Have some tact!”

Rean waved off the noble’s concerns with a smile. “It’s fine.” He had no problems thinking about the happy times with his birth parents even though it made him sad. Likewise, he had no problems thinking about his adoptive parents even though it made him guilty. “When I was younger, I would have agreed with Emma. But now, I personally align more with Alisa’s perspective.”

His life would’ve been much simpler if they didn’t care. 

Alisa sat up straighter and flashed him a grin, happy to know that she wasn’t the only one with this opinion, while Jusis muttered something about agreeing to disagree. 

“Huh, I really don’t get this stuff,” Millium shrugged even though she didn’t seem unhappy at all about her inability to understand. “But the gist of it is that Rean and Alisa want less hugs, Gaius wants the same amount of hugs, while Jusis and Emma want more hugs, right?”

“How in Aidios’ name did you come up with that ridiculous—”

“Yes Millium, you’re absolutely right.”

Rean thought Gaius would be the last person to throw Jusis under the bus, but he could sense the intention was to pacify the tension between the two blondes, seeing everyone except the betrayed noble relax.

“Aw, why didn’t you just say so, Jusis? C’mere!” Millium grinned as she reached out to wrap their mildly protesting friend into a big hug.

While struggling in her arms, piercing blue eyes glared at Gaius. “You. I will remember this.”

Emma chuckled while Gaius maintained his peaceful expression, completely unaffected by Jusis’ threat. At that moment, Alisa leaned close to Rean and whispered into his ear.

“Remember how we were talking about people fitting into older sibling and younger sibling stereotypes? Gaius totally fits the older brother image, but Jusis is, unexpectedly, exactly what I’d imagine a younger brother would be like.”

Rean chuckled. “Rufus must’ve had a fun time as an older brother if he could always tease him and get reactions like this.”

“Aw, I wish I could’ve had younger siblings to tease.”

“Just because I am being squeezed to death does not mean my ears cannot function.” Jusis flatly glared at them, though they didn’t feel intimidated because he couldn’t hide how Millium was still hugging him like a teddy bear.

Rean sheepishly looked away, taking note that Alisa was doing the same, and gazed out the windows once again. The long stretches of untouched mountains and fields were telltale signs that they were nearing the Nord Highlands. 

He’d visited there once before as the Ashen Saint, though the beauty of all this nature had been lost on him back then. He hoped that with this field study, he could truly experience the freshness and freeness of being in such a vast area of wilderness that Gaius always spoke— 

 

THUMP

 

Fingers lightly gripped his chest and the familiar locket sitting on top of it, heart suddenly racing for seemingly no reason while pupils became the size pin pricks; a reaction only not caught by his classmates because he was facing the window. Furiously, he blinked and took deep breaths until his vision was steady and his lungs calmed down, confusedly noticing how the blues and greens of the skies and land outside were becoming… greyer. 

What was… going on?

He turned his head to look at his classmates and noticed that their colors were off, as if they'd been blanketed by a monochrome sheet. They continued to animatedly talk like nothing changed, except Gaius whose eyebrows were now pinched while he looked out the window.

Gaius' light blue eyes eventually drifted and met Rean's perplexed eyes, sharing a look that they both sensed that something was off.

Okay, well, at least the problem didn't lie within himself for once.

“Wow, Gaius! You weren’t kidding when you said your homeland was beautiful!” Alisa exclaimed in awe, completely unaware of their dilemma, as her eyes tried to catch the last sights before they were obscured by the steel construction of Zender Gate. 

Millium was practically squishing her face against the window. “Look at how much space there is! Lammy and I can start practicing our acrobatics without destroying anything!”

“Millium…” Jusis sighed, face-palming. 

“I can’t wait to show you all,” Gaius said without a hint of concern in his voice as he rose from his seat when the train came to a full stop. “The best part is riding a horse through all this land. It's definitely a different experience compared to horseback riding in the Empire.”

Emma was the next to rise to her feet, muttering, “I wish I knew how to ride a horse.”

Rean tried not to squint his eyes at them while he strained his ears. Their lively voices were also sounding a bit… distant.

“Good thing we have three horse-riding experts who can help teach you.” Alisa gestured to Rean, Gaius and Jusis. “But for now, you can ride with me.”

“Thank you!”

They all left their seats and headed to exit the train. Rean stayed at the back of the group, still bothered by how his senses seemed to have numbed. He realized he couldn’t even register the feeling of touch well, taking many moments to notice that Alisa was gently tapping him on his shoulder. 

Looking to his side, he noticed that Alisa was walking right next to him, ruby eyes softening in genuine concern. 

“Something wrong?” Her head tilted to get a better look at his face. “You’ve been awfully quiet recently.”

“Well...” He kept blinking, trying to will the colors to bleed back into his vision but failing. “Do the colors seem off to you?”

Her head tilted in confusion, befuddled eyes shifting left and right. “The colors of what?”

How strange… she really couldn’t notice anything. He guessed he could only confirm his observations with Gaius for now.

“Nevermind, I think my eyes are just adjusting to the lighting.”

She nodded, walking at the same pace as him as they followed their classmates into Zender Gate. Led by a soldier to the office of the lieutenant general, they passed through a few halls, each footstep oddly sounding louder than everything else, making an echoing clang in sync with Rean's hammering heart.

As they turned a corner, they were greeted by the sight of two boys waiting just outside the door. Pacing back and forth while throwing distressed hand gestures was a very familiar looking blonde-haired boy. Standing to the side and listening to him was a blue-haired boy, trying to reassure his companion.

“Ohh… I don’t know how Olivert does this..! I’m really not cut out for this— coming here was a bad idea, Kurt!”

Rean stopped in his tracks, realizing who the blonde boy was. The only thing that confused him was how the boy was wearing a tourist outfit that looked similar to the outfit Lechter wore when he was travelling around Crossbell, but there was no doubt about it.

This was Cedric Reise Arnor. Crown Prince of Erebonia.

Rean would’ve been amused because of the prince's choice in apparel if not for how his gut was twisting from being in the presence of the boy. 

After all… Prince Cedric was a candidate to be the Vermillion Awakener.

Only one with royal blood could pilot that Divine Knight. Prince Olivert had already declined Osborne’s offer to help two years ago, so the ones most likely to become the Vermillion Awakener were either Prince Cedric or Princess Alfin. 

Behind the Ashen Saint’s mask, Rean had caught a glimpse of their innocent smiles. To think that their happiness could be robbed by being burdened with the role of an Awakener… It wasn’t a thought he could dwell on for the sake of his sanity. 

However, focusing on the present, Rean was surprised to see him so far away from Heimdallr. Prince Cedric was known for being frail and didn’t have quite the same independence that Prince Olivert or Princess Alfin had. 

To his side, he noticed how Jusis, Millium, and Alisa also stopped walking while Emma and Gaius walked toward the pair with curiosity. 

“Calm down. Earlier, weren’t you excited to go to Nord and appreciate the homeland of your ancestor’s ally?” asked the boy named Kurt, placing a hand on Prince Cedric’s shoulder for comfort. 

“Well, that was before I saw how vast and open this place was!” Prince Cedric threw his arms up in the air, emphasizing how exasperated he was. “It’s more than I expected— and were you not the one who was so nervous about coming here? What changed?”

“Well…” Kurt coughed, suddenly speaking with a lower voice as if to mimic someone else. “ ‘Even with your different build and different sword-style, the only thing that’s limiting you from achieving strength equal or greater than your family’s is your mind. Cast away your doubts, understand yourself, and your true strength will be set free.’ ”

Something about those words sounded familiar to Rean…

Prince Cedric’s eyes widened slightly before he looked at his friend with a small smile. “Finally listening to what the Ashen Saint told you last year?”

Did… did he actually say that?

Sometimes it was difficult to remember that he and the Ashen Saint were technically the same person, especially when his alternate persona spouted words that Rean would never listen to.

“Ah…” A nervous chuckle escaped Kurt’s throat, turning his eyes away to hide a blush. “I’m trying to, at least.”

Prince Cedric patted Kurt’s shoulder with pride and glee. “Haha! I’m going to have the best-guardian-best-friend!”

Emma chose that moment to walk up to them with a kind smile, oblivious to how the guards were tensing up with her close distance to the prince. She slightly bent her knees so that she was at eye level with Kurt. “Excuse me, is the lieutenant general busy inside?”

“Yes!” Kurt straightened his back and firmly nodded his head to the witch. “He is speaking with one of the people from the nomadic settlement.”

“Thank you.” Emma then rose to stand at her full height as she looked back to her classmates, only to be met with burning stares. Caught off guard by why everyone was focusing on her so much, she nervously asked, “Wha- what? Did I do something wrong?”

Jusis scoffed in amusement. “Yes, you blatantly ignored the Crown Prince of Erebonia. I’m sure the punishment for that disrespectfulness is equivalent to a life-sentence in prison or execution.”

“WH-” Her voice squeaked in shock and fear as her eyes widened at Prince Cedric. “What..?!” 

Millium laughed as many anxious droplets of sweat started to form on her classmate’s face. “Hehe, Jusis is exaggerating, but you definitely wouldn’t be let off the hook! Woo, this is a first! I knew something the Class President didn’t know!”

“I’m so sorry!” Emma immediately bowed down to the prince. “I didn’t recogni—”

“It’s fine,” Prince Cedric showed her a timid, reassuring smile before a spark of inspiration crossed his eyes. “Co- consider myself off duty. Right now, I’m just a mere tourist called Ce— Cedrock Lenheim!”

Rean almost snorted, seeing how the prince was copying Prince Olivert’s ‘Olivier Lenheim’ stunt in Liberl two years ago. Meanwhile, the rest of his classmates and Kurt fondly shook their heads.

“I see why he’s called one of Erebonia’s national treasures,” Gaius chuckled. 

“I- I’m not a national treasure—! I’m j- just Cedrock Lenheim, an ordinary tourist!” Prince Cedric flusteredly stammered just as the door behind him suddenly opened, revealing a well-built man wearing an eye-patch along with a boy with tan skin and brown, wavy hair similar to Gaius’.

They were Zechs Vander and a Nordian from the settlement, if Rean had to guess from their appearances. Unfortunately it seemed like they were both not in a good mood, judging by the bags underneath the boy’s eyes and how the man’s posture was more stiff than necessary.

“—said that one of their priests will be coming their way here to see what’s going on in a few hours. Until then, you need to wait a little longer,” Zechs said, finishing whatever conversation he was having with the boy. 

“O-okay,” the boy sniffled as he walked out the door and looked ahead. Suddenly, his feet stopped in their tracks, eyes widening at the sight in front of him. Tears threatened to leak out as he practically ran and rammed himself against Gaius’ chest. “GAIUS!!!”

For a second, Rean could see something in Zechs’ expression deflate as the child started rambling— crying in Gaius’ arms.

“Thoma, what’s wrong?” Seeing his classmate gently pat the boy’s back, Rean recognized that the name belonged to one of Gaius’ younger siblings. “Why are you here? Shouldn’t you be at the settlement with the rest of the family?”

“I- They—” Thoma stepped back from his brother’s arms and tried to wipe away his own tears. “Something happened— There’s something wrong with everyone!”

Tension jolted through Gaius' body, growing anxiety suddenly rolling off of his body in waves despite how he outwardly tried to hide it. “I’m sorry, I know we just got here, but…”

“I know. You want to see what happened to your family, right?” Zechs sighed, though he didn’t sound in any way disappointed. “Go ahead, I won’t stop you. In fact, there are horses just outside ready for you. I’ll also catch up with you once I’m done with some work here, okay?”

“Thank you, sir.”

The lieutenant general nodded before he diverted his attention to the rest of Class VII. “What you’re about to see isn’t part of your field study. Knowing that, would you still like to check it out?”

No one hesitated to nod their heads in affirmation. 

“Heh. Alright then, I suppose we can save our introductions for later,” Zechs chuckled under his breath despite the dampened atmosphere. “You have some good classmates here, Gaius.” To the side, he motioned for Prince Cedric and Kurt to enter his office. 

Once the door closed again, Gaius’ eyes lit up with gratitude as he slightly bowed to them. “Thank you, everyone.”

---

The beauty of exploring the Nord Highlands was lost on all of them, too focused on the uneasy weight of knowing that there was ‘something wrong’ with Gaius' home. Even Millium was silent as she rode on a horse with Jusis for the first time. 

For Rean, this sense of dread did not help the sinking feeling in his gut, threatening to swallow him with unreasonable paranoia. He let his senses go into overdrive (well, as overdrive as it could be without Ishmelga’s power), wanting to capture any possible detail that might be related to what possible danger was waiting for them. 

Naturally, with most of his focus not on his horse riding, he was much slower compared to the others. And since Gaius, with Thoma sitting behind him, was riding full speed toward his home, a large gap was created between the front and rear ends of the group. With their distance, he was pretty sure Gaius wouldn’t be able to hear him if he yelled. 

Heh, wouldn’t it be bad if they lost communication with each other and got separated?

Geez, he didn’t even understand the full extent of the problem at hand and he was already thinking about how it could get worse. 

Stopping his rather negative train of thought, he breathed in softly, closing his eyes and letting all his other senses survey the world around him.

Four horses galloping.

Grass crunching under their hooves.

Air rushing against them.

Seven human hearts beating.

Several monsters ignoring them.

And— 

“HELP!”

A cry for help.

His eyes snapped open as he looked toward the west, noticing that colors were bleeding back into what was his near-monochromatic vision. In the far distance, only the thick shell of a giant Rhinocider remained grey, in contrast to the vibrant sky blues and lime greens of the nature surrounding it. 

Oh, and the monster was also chasing two human-shaped figures.

Immediately, he yelled, hoping his companions could hear him. “There are people being attacked by monsters!”

Unsurprisingly, Gaius didn’t make any reaction to indicate he heard. Fortunately, his other classmates who were lagging behind glanced back at him for a second. Alisa and Emma nodded at Jusis and Millium as the former duo turned their horse around. 

Seeing the girls follow him, Rean steered his horse to move in the direction of where he saw those people. 

After crossing the field, Rean was finally in range of the monster. Stopping his horse, he jumped to the ground and his sword was unsheathed with a soft chhk noise. With one smooth, heavy slash, he cut deeply into the monster’s thick shell, but not managing to reach its skin. 

Still, this attack was enough to gain its attention; the monster let out a loud roar as it turned around on its two hind feet and faced Rean. It probably would’ve rammed its tusks at him if not for the sudden sound of a combat link forming between him and Alisa. Before the monster could take one step and gain momentum, an arrow was suddenly embedded into one of its eyes and Rean used this opening to slash at its feet. 

With the monster half-blinded and somewhat immobilized, the Rean waited for Emma to finish casting Flare Bomb and release it on the weak-to-fire monster while Alisa quickly unleashed the same art on the poor Rhinocider. 

Rean didn’t even flinch as the monster, even its shell, was literally disintegrated, only leaving behind a rain of sepith when the flames disappeared.

Well, that was easy. It seemed like everyone’s training at the Old Schoolhouse was paying off. 

It was also fun. He could’ve never imagined working well with a group who used fire arts four months ago. To be able to do this easily now… Really, he was so grateful to his friends.

“Great work, you too,” he grinned at them in victory, high-fiving them both.

“Same to you!” Alisa grinned, then narrowed her eyes at Emma, who was giggling at their interaction for some reason. 

Unfortunately, the feelings of victory were short-lived as Alisa suddenly stiffened at the sight of one of the two people who had been chased by that monster.

The first man was a reporter Rean recognized from the Imperial Chronicle. Under the Ashen Saint’s mask, Rean had been asked to give statements or have his photo taken whenever he solved a somewhat noteworthy incident, and he remembered working with this man from time to time.

“Hi, my name’s Norton and I'm a reporter from the Imperial Chronicle!” He amicably greeted them with a brief wave of the hand. “Thanks for saving us!”

“It’s no problem.” Rean smiled as they shook hands, intentionally keeping his focus on the reporter because he didn’t even have to look at the other man to recognize his identity. 

Really, why was—

“Professor Lughman!” Emma cheerfully greeted the other man with the gentle clap of her hands. “It’s nice to see you again!”

...Emma knew him?

“It’s a pleasure to see you again, Emma Millstein and Alisa R,” the brown-haired man wearing a tan trench coat replied. His voice, smile, and eyes were significantly much softer than what Rean was used to, catching him slightly off guard. However, no matter how this man changed his appearance or behavior, Rean could not mistake him for anyone else.

 

After all… Black Alberich was the one who taught him how to wear a mask and how to lie.

 

Waves of anger, frustration, and betrayal suddenly rushed through his veins as if all of his blood was replaced by the liquefaction of intense emotions— but these feelings weren’t his. The combat link with Alisa was still active, so he could feel the way her veins popped and how her vision was tunneling with rage at the sight of this man.

He chanced a glance at his blonde companion, taking note of the clenched teeth, stiff posture and shadowed eyes.

 

She was going to blow.

 

Unexpectedly, however, she reached out her clammy hand to grasp Rean’s, squeezing so tightly that he thought he would lose circulation in his fingers.

The next second, her shoulders visibly relaxed, though the firm grip on his hand only became more uncomfortable. Looking up at Alberich, Alisa calmly replied, “It’s nice to meet you again, Professor Lughman.”

With the way she spoke, she sounded like she was talking to a very unwanted business partner. Emma obviously caught on, looking at her with worry, while Norton observed the awkwardness between the two with curiosity.

While Rean wouldn’t have necessarily minded if Alisa slapped Alberich in the face, he was just relieved that she calmed down, though he suspected that their linked hands played a role in controlling her temper. However, as much as he was glad to somehow be a source of comfort for her, all he wanted to do was rip his hand away from her.

(Because he could feel Black Alberich's gaze burn into the sight of their joined hands, eyes crinkling with cruel mischief.)

This man, who enjoyed tormenting his family and knew how to push Rean's buttons, was certainly up to no good.

Alberich acknowledged Alisa’s greeting with a nod and then gestured to Rean. “Hello there, Rean, I didn't realize you were part of Class VII. I think I've encountered all of your classmates by now.”

...Oh, Alberich was playing a dangerous game. And, wait— He already met the rest of Class VII?!

"You know each other..?" Alisa asked, voice low.

Well, two could play at this game. It wasn't like Rean was specifically told to treat Alberich's situation in any special way.

"We're acquainted. Though, I could've sworn you were a researcher and you called yourself 'Black Alberich' last time we met." He barely masked his tight smile.  

"An amnesiac like myself has no attachment to made up names.” Alberich's words came out smoothly and fluidly, like this lie had been memorized and well-prepared. 

Amnesia, huh? So that was going to be his story? 

“Last time I was Black Alberich." The man continued. "This time I am Professor Lughman. Next time, I could be anything else. Ever heard of Weissman the Faceless ? He was said to have many faces yet, underneath them all, there was only nothing. For me, it’s like that but with names."

What a lie. He knew this man would never throw the Black Alberich name away. Rean also wanted to point out that, based on what he'd read about Weissman, that man wasn't exactly a great role model for how to lead one's life. Unfortunately, Weissman's story wasn't exactly public knowledge, so he kept his mouth shut and focused on the way Alisa’s grip on him tightened. 

With a deep frown, she eventually said, “If I had amnesia, I would think I would want to have a stable sense of identity.”

“Not everyone’s the same. Some people don’t mind leaving the past as a mystery. I’m sure not everyone enjoys history class.”

“Says the guy who explores ancient ruins for fun,” she huffed.

“I explore it to learn more about its spiritual significance, not to learn about the past, young lady.”

Feeling the temperature surrounding Alisa rise, Rean decided to squeeze her hand, silently telling her to calm down. From personal experience, he could testify that Alberich certainly had a knack for drawing out unwanted emotions and outbursts. 

It just wasn’t worth it. 

Thankfully, Alisa seemed to get the message, keeping her lips sealed. Seeing how she didn’t say anything else, Alberich took this as his cue to leave. "Well then, Rean, Alisa, and Emma, thank you for slaying that monster, but I'm afraid I must go now. I still have a lot of exploring to do before the sun sets." The man smiled before he turned his back on them and started walking north. With one last wave, he added, “I hope we meet again.”

Rean narrowed his eyes on the back of the man, full of suspicion. Alberich’s exit was as fast as his introduction; the whole encounter seemed meaningless and out of place, which only added to his confusion and concern because he knew Alberich didn’t do things for no reason.

There was a purpose to the gnome chief pretending to be a helpless man chased by a giant monster. And, based on how Rean could already sense how puppet strings twisted around him, he had a gut feeling Alberich had a scheme brewing and it involved him and Class VII.

Ugh.

Somehow dealing with the church-hating technology supremist was often worse than dealing with the literal entity that ruined his life and wanted to end the world.

Unintentionally, he let out a sigh of frustration, earning a look of confusion from Emma. His prompt smile of reassurance didn’t seem to convince her at all as she continued to carefully observe him and Alisa, having noticed that they didn’t seem to react to “Professor Lughman” well.

Oh well, at least she wasn’t like Jusis, Machias, or Laura who tended to demand an answer in one way or the other. He still got goosebumps thinking about their confrontations back at Bareahard’s field study. 

Turning to Norton, Rean asked, “Aren’t you travelling companions with Professor Lughman? Shouldn’t you be going after him?” 

Any information he could squeeze out that was related to why Alberich was here was good information. 

“Oh, no,” Norton sheepishly scratched his head. “I’m here only because I wanted to take photographs of the Nord Highlands. I bumped into the professor because he was also exploring the place, and then that monster noticed us and suddenly started chasing us, haha! It's a shame though. I was hoping we could be temporary partners in exploring this place.”

Rean seriously doubted Alberich was only here to ‘explore.’ Unfortunately, he couldn't do anything more to back up his gut feeling so he decided to keep the situation with Alberich in the back of his mind.  Shrugging his shoulders, he offered the reporter a small smile. “We’re headed to the settlement, do you need a ride somewhere before we go?”

“Actually, I was planning on going there anyway! If you don’t mind, I’ll gladly take you up on your offer.”

"Okay then."

Rean then looked at the hand that was still grasping tightly to his. Whispering softly, he asked, “Hey, you okay?”

Abruptly, Alisa finally let go of his hand, moving to grab her forearm defensively. “Oh, yeah. I’m good!” Her smile was obviously fake, but Rean wasn’t one to call people out on it. “Just... that man reminds me of someone…”

Oh, he didn't doubt that.

---

He didn’t know if the cause was from feeling Alisa’s explosive emotions earlier or because meeting Alberich gave him an increased state of stress, but he noticed the sharpness of his senses fully returned to normal. 

The world and the people around him were no longer dull colored or distant sounding; the cool colors of nature seemed to pop and the cries of monsters were so loud and clear that Rean had to cover his ears. Even the scent of lavender from Norton’s hair was so strong that it forced him to breathe through his mouth. 

His surroundings seemed more tangible than ever— Until they passed through the front gates of the settlement. As suddenly as before, he felt his senses dull like before; colors and contours faded and blurred as the crunch of grass beneath them sounded as loud as the ant climbing up Alisa’s shoulder.

(He flicked that ant away, surprising the girl until he explained it was just a bug.)

It was like there was an invisible murkiness that was blanketing the area, lowering the energy of every living being inside, and Rean was growing more certain about how the problem lay within the environment. It was just so strange how no one was making any comments on these changes. 

A familiar feeling of numbness started to buzz in the back of his mind as they approached Jusis and Millium; Gaius and Thoma were nowhere to be seen, but he could sense two presences inside one of the tents.

Speaking of presence, however, he should’ve been able to sense more than two people. There were supposed to be people in this settlement, so why did it feel like this place was so lifeless? To add to his befuddlement, as they passed by some people resting on the ground and a pen full of unusually quiet and listless sheep, he noticed how his sixth sense couldn’t even register any of their presences.

He would’ve thought they were dead if not for how their chests slightly moved with every breath they took.

“What’s the situation?” Rean asked Jusis while everyone dismounted from their horses.  

The noble stared back at him for an abnormally long amount of time, saying nothing while his stoic expression betrayed nothing of his thoughts. Eventually, he sighed and slowly gestured first to the people and then to the sheep.

“As you can tell by looking at the people and the animals in this area, they’re awake but they're not conscious.”

“What… do you mean?” Emma worriedly glanced at one of the people at the ground, only to realize that their eyes were open but they weren’t blinking and they weren’t exactly looking at anything . 

Like corpses.

“It’s like they lost their wills,” Millium said, sounding unusually contemplative. “They don’t respond to anything; they just stay still and do nothing but breathe. According to Gaius’ lil’ brother, it doesn’t seem like they sleep and they don’t eat unless someone helps them.”

Jusis hummed, eyes pinning Rean with unusual uncertainty. “Yes, it’s almost exactly like how you acted after the train incident during your field study at Celdic.”

Everyone’s heads snapped toward him, all revealing expressions full of varying degrees of shock and uneasiness. Rean did his best to focus on Jusis, knowing that Alisa, Emma, and Millium were the most confused because they missed seeing him in such a pitiful condition. 

“Do you have any insight on what causes this? Is it some sort of ailment or..?”

Uh… Um.

Rean could only shift his weight uncomfortably on his feet just to buy himself more time to think about his response. Thinking back on it, he couldn’t accurately find a pattern since it only happened two times. 

The last time, when it happened at Celdic, he went 'blank' because he thought he heard Ishmelga’s voice. The truth of Ishmelga’s statement and the belief that he failed to protect someone again just made him want to… give up.

The first time, after Rean killed those jaegers, was a little different. The bloodthirst from murdering humans for the first time was so strong, he almost sliced Elise's neck open. Just barely, he managed to stop himself and decided that the only way to protect Elise from himself was to stop himself permanently.

Of course, he couldn't let himself destroy the heart his dad gave him, so he decided to slice the artery that connected his heart to the lower half of his body. He was pretty much guaranteed to die a quick death with all the blood that gushed out.

He would've died, too.

 

If not for the Primordial Flame.

 

Somewhere in his fuzzy memory about his year with Lianne, he vaguely recalled a guy—McBurn was probably the name—giving him a pure flame that had extreme healing properties. He didn't remember why the guy gave that to him, considering he did remember how Lianne beat the crap out of the guy because of reasons related to himself, but the details of 'why' didn't really matter to him as much as the 'what' at the time.

The moment he had ripped the blade out of his body, the fire activated, rebuilding his blood vessels and torn skin with its healing properties, making his body stronger than before.

And Rean couldn’t even curse McBurn or stab himself again because— fire.

Fire.

His life was such a joke. When he wanted to survive, fire destroyed his life. When he wanted to die, fire saved his life. 

Needless to say, after being denied his own death as well as being forced to relive his trauma while his body was still in shock from being stabbed, his mind just went… blank.

 

“Rean?” 

His eyes refocused on Jusis, who seemed to be looking at him with as much concern his pride would allow him. 

Okay, maybe it was a bad idea to get stuck in a reverie about his not-death in the middle of a conversation. Especially in a situation like this.

“I honestly don’t know,” he managed to say. 

It wasn’t like the real answer was something he could reveal to them. 

Oh, it only happens when I fail to protect people I care about, so I give up on myself but my body continues to live. That’s all.

Yeah, that definitely wouldn’t make them worry about him. Plus, he seriously doubted that was the case for the people of this settlement. Usually people wouldn’t just spontaneously decide to give up, much less an entire population of a peaceful group. 

Wait a minute... “Does Thoma know why he’s the only one not affected?”

Millium shrugged. “According to him, apparently he slept over at Zender Gate last night because he was talking to his crush for so long that it was too late and dangerous to travel across the highlands. When he returned, everyone was like this.”

That was oddly specific.

“So, whatever happened to them was only specific to this location at that time?” Alisa asked.

“That’s what I assume.”

Rean sighed, anxiously crossing his arms and tapping his forearm with his right hand as his brain sorted through all the options. “Have you tried casting any ailment curing art on them?”

“That was the first thing we did. It had no effect.”

“How about items?”

“No effect.”

Lilac eyes glanced at Norton, still taking photos of everything, then shifted to focus on Emma. It wouldn't exactly be a great idea to talk about witchcraft around the reporter, so he moved close to her and lowered his voice so only she could hear him. “Can you sense if the higher elements are at play here? Or if there’s magic involved?”

Closing her eyes, she tried to focus on any possible abnormalities lingering in the area. After a full minute, she opened her eyes in disappointment. “No, I can’t sense anything.”

“Is it possible to use your magic to cure them?”

With a faint “ah” sound escaping her lips, Emma walked up to one of the sheep and whispered an incantation. A glow of green light washed over the sheep and…

FLASH

"Woah, are those new orbment devices? The ones that could surpass the ENIGMA II?" Norton snapped a photo of the lingering magic, capturing Emma’s stunned reaction, the light green swirls of magic, and the lifeless sheep in all their glory. “Class VII, right? I should’ve realized sooner that you were the students who were testing out the ARCUS prototypes!”

“Ah, um—” Sweat nervously rolled down Emma’s temple as she backed away from the man. 

Alisa stepped in front of Emma and disapprovingly placed her hands on her hips as she glared at the man. “Back off, we’re trying to focus on our field study! Shouldn’t you stay focused on whatever you originally set out here to do?”

The reporter shook his head. “Well, with all that’s going on, I think sticking with you guys will lead me to my next biggest scoop! I’m sure a story about how Thors Military Academy students solved a mysterious phenomenon at Nord will make the papers fly off the shelves!”

Millium’s turquoise hair bounced as the girl perked her head up with interest. “Wait, if that happens, then we’ll be famous!”

“Isn’t publicity the last thing someone like you would want?” Alisa sighed.

It was definitely the last thing Rean wanted. He could already imagine his class being forced into a situation where he would have to use his ogre power and Norton would show his demonic form to the world. Given his bad luck, maybe that was exactly what this bad feeling was leading up to.

He shook his head out of his negative thoughts again and ignored the rest of his companions’ conversation, instead focusing on the outcome Emma’s magic had on the sheep.

No change. 

They still acted lifeless.

Rean sighed in frustration and confusion. If medicine, orbal technology, and magic couldn’t work, then what—

 

Wait. 

Technology.

Gnome technology far surpassed this era’s understanding of orbal technology. 

That could mean...

 

Black Alberich.

 

It was a possibility. It wasn’t like Ishmelga would just let him have a nice vacation or something; the chief of the gnomes had to be here for a reason. He would've shown himself to Rean for a reason.

But, to target a human population and inflict them with apathy seemed counterproductive to their goals. After all, they needed human malice to fuel the Great Twilight…

“Class VII!” A voice boomed from the distance, and everyone turned to see Zechs riding a horse as he passed through the front gates. Along with him were a couple of soldiers and, surprisingly, Prince Cedric riding behind Kurt on their own horse. “Do you all understand the situation now, of how the settlers have been struck by some kind of curse?”

Rean glanced back at the sheep while everyone nodded their heads. 

Curse. That was certainly one way to call this condition. 

“Then I think you all understand that your field study cannot continue here.” The man took out a piece of paper and handed it to Rean. “Here are the requests that aren’t related to the settlement. You can rest at Zender Gate if needed.”

“Actually, Lieutenant General, I have a request,” spoke Gaius’ calm voice as everyone watched him exit his family’s tent. Barely, Rean could see lines of worry crease his classmate’s forehead, but it seemed faint compared to the steely light blue gaze that met Zech’s eye, full of resolve. “I would like to ask permission to focus on finding a cure to this curse that has befallen my home instead.”

Zechs hummed, fingers stroking his chin in deep thought. 

“Ooh, ooh! I wanna investigate what’s happening to Gaius’ home, too!” Millium raised her hand, enthusiastically bouncing up and down as if her excitement could play a role in convincing the man in letting her help Gaius.

Upon seeing the rest of his classmates catch his eye and nod, Rean realized that they all agreed to support Gaius and were expecting him to announce their decision. Shoving away all the awkwardness and surprise that they were giving him this role, he declared, “I think it’s safe to say that everyone in Class VII is willing to lend their aid into helping the Nordian people. Will you let us?”

A deep sigh escaped the lieutenant general’s throat, though he didn’t seem all that surprised by their response. “I suppose it would be difficult for you students to focus on the field study when there’s a much bigger problem right in front of you. Very well, then!” A faint smile touched Zechs’ mouth. “Class VII, I’ll add the investigation of this curse to the list of requests on your field study.”

“Thank you,” Gaius breathed out a sigh of relief while Millium cheered and pumped her fist in the air.

"Do keep in mind that my soldiers have investigated this settlement already and have found nothing that could possibly cause their current conditions,” Zechs added as he pulled his reins to turn his horse around. “Also, Gaius, you’re familiar with Father Barkhorn, right? He’ll be arriving here in the evening to conduct his own investigation of what is happening here. If you want full points, I suggest you solve this before he arrives.”

Okay, that wasn't fair. Looking at the position of the sun, Rean would have to guess they only had about five hours to figure out this bizarre situation by themselves. 

But… Barkhorn..? Rean’s eyebrows knitted in deep thought. Didn’t the Intelligence Division suspect that someone with that name was a Dominion?

Before Zechs signaled his steed to move forward and leave the settlement, Prince Cedric nervously spoke up.

“Ah… um… Lieutenant General Zechs, I…” Bright blue eyes shifted around his surroundings before they eventually met Zechs’ with newfound determination. “I want to help them!”

Every single person in the area, student, soldier, or whatever, visibly straightened up with surprise. 

Rean expected Zechs’ response would be outright denial because this was the Crown Prince and his movements until now have been restricted due to security reasons and his frail nature. To leave him unsupervised here when they were so close to the border with Calvard would sound absurd. 

Instead, the man asked, “Why?”

“It’s only natural to help out our allies when they’re in need!” Prince Cedric’s words came out more smooth and certain than ever before. “I think this would be part of my duties as prince.” He paused for a moment as heat started to rise to his cheeks and his eyes widened. “Wa- Wait, forget that last part! I’m actually just an ordinary tourist and just want to help out these people like any other self-respecting human being!”

Everyone stared at the prince in amusement, ignoring the loud noise of Norton’s camera capturing a picture.

Zechs, however, didn’t seem keen on playing Prince Cedric’s game of pretend, continuing to stare adamantly at the boy without any sign of accepting the request.

As a last resort, the prince pointed at Class VII and argued, "They're Thors students, right? I'm going to be like them and do these field studies with no one but my classmates. Can't I shadow them and see what it's like?"

It seemed like stubbornness was an Arnor family trait.

Though it seemed like Zechs was willing to listen this time, knowing that all chicks left the nest and flew on their own at some point. “This will be your first time acting somewhat independently. Are you sure about this decision?”

“Yes, I’m sure!”

The lieutenant general eyed the prince from head to toe, appraising his resolve. With a fond sigh, he muttered, “They grow up so fast.”

“Pardon?”

“Very well,” The man coughed into his fist as he turned his attention to Kurt. “You’ll protect him, correct?”

The blue-haired boy nodded furiously. “Of course!”

“And…” The two soldiers who accompanied them had the pleasure of being petrified by a one-eyed death stare. “You’ll protect them with your lives, right? ”

“Y- Yes, sir!”

With the edge of protectiveness and threat in the man’s voice, Rean wouldn’t be surprised if he sent an army of five-hundred soldiers to covertly keep an eye on the prince. Heck, maybe there was already someone secretly keeping an eye on Prince Cedric in the distance which was why Zechs was being lenient. It wouldn’t be surprising considering Cedric’s appearance in Nord seemed to be because of a whim. 

With that, Lieutenant General Zechs Vander urged his horse to dash at full speed, leaving behind a unique assortment of people in the settlement to figure out what to do by themselves. 

“So then, what do we do now?” Prince Cedric’s eyes brightened at them as pure excitement and eagerness to help leaked out of his voice, looking like how a child would if they were told they were going to have a vacation at Mischelam.

He was only met with silence as every student awkwardly looked at the prince. No one, not even Jusis or Millium, knew how to treat the young prince like a team member of some sort. There was simply a huge difference between treating Jusis Albarea like any other student and treating Crown Prince Cedric as an associate; one reason being that getting Jusis upset could result in a death glare while getting Prince Cedric could result in a death sentence.

(Okay, maybe Rean was exaggerating, considering how relaxed the royal family was, but still.)

Deciding that accidentally offending the prince wouldn’t be the worst way Rean could’ve ever thought of dying, he bit the bullet. 

“We gather more information. As it stands now, we don’t know what caused this, why or how it happened, or even if someone is behind this,” he strongly spoke, leveling his serious gaze with everyone, from his friends, to Thoma and Norton, Prince Cedric and Kurt, and finally to the soldiers. “According to Lieutenant General Zechs, nothing unusual was found when you investigated the area?”

They both nodded. “Correct.” 

Rean’s eyes flicked to Gaius. “Did you find anything unusual?”

“Yes,” Gaius softly sighed before surveying their surroundings. “Ever since we got off the train, I noticed that everything appears… grey.”

Rean nodded. “So you can see it, too.”

He received a nod in response, while everyone else stared at them with question marks popping up from their heads. 

Kurt was the one who actually asked the question, voice full of uncertainty. “By that, do you mean you can’t see color?”

“Only faintly. It’s almost like I’m living in an old photograph.” Rean watched as everyone started to squint at their surroundings and tried to see what they were seeing. 

“I can kind of see a grey tint if I focus,” Emma said, glasses held in her hands as her naked eyes narrowed at the grass. 

“Everything looks as colorful and vibrant as Olivert’s description of this place,” Prince Cedric muttered.

Millium smiled at him. “Same, Prince-guy!”

No one could believe she called him ‘Prince-guy,’ everyone’s mouths gaped widely at her blatant casualness. Even the soldiers almost dropped their guns in surprise.

Prince Cedric, however, didn’t seem to mind. Only pouted and crossed his arms as he stammered, “It’s Cedrock! ”

“Okay then, Cedrock! Let’s high-five for being able to see the same thing!”

Prince Cedric actually beamed at how someone called him the way he wanted to be called. He was practically glowing as he made no hesitation to raise his hand and high-five the girl.

Ignoring how the two kids were celebrating over something that didn’t actually merit any celebration, Jusis brought the conversation back on topic. “Why is it that you three see something different while the rest of us can’t?”

If Rean had to make a far-fetched guess based on the people who could see this greyness , it was related to how developed their sixth-sense was. Whether they were attuned to auras, spirits, or magic, the ability to sense these other elements of the world could be picking up whatever was affecting this settlement, or the Nord Highlands in general. But that was all his own useless conjecture.

“I don’t know, but I don’t think we have the luxury of the time to question it,” was what he ended up saying. Returning his focus on Gaius, he asked, “Do you notice anything else that’s strange?”

“Yes.” Gaius actually looked extremely disconcerted when he replied. “There is no wind here.”

That response encouraged everyone else to close their eyes and focus on the sensations in the air around them.

There wasn’t even a breeze to tickle against his skin. 

“Now that you mention it,” Emma spoke up, eyes wide with surprise. “While I can’t sense any abnormal levels of the higher elements, I noticed how there’s a lack of fire and wind elements in the environment. For a place like this, all four of the main elements should have an equal balance of presence here. However, compared to the amount of water and earth elements in the area, wind and fire elements only make up about fifteen percent of the environment.”

“Interesting…” Rean muttered, more to himself but he spoke his thoughts out loud. “Fire is often known to be the foundation of the soul of all living things while wind is known to be the breath that gave everything life. The lack of those elements are reflected here, seeing how just about everything seems lifeless and soulless.”

“How is it even possible to change the balance of elements to a state like this?!” Alisa gasped.

Sept-Terrions, certain environments, artifacts, gnome technology, witchcraft and maybe even a special type of monster or plant were the only causes Rean could think about at the moment. Knowing that Alberich was in the area only made him suspect the gnome leader more.

Unfortunately, he had no way of saying that he wanted to hunt down ‘Professor Lughman’ without arousing any confusion or suspicion. Unfortunately again, that meant he couldn’t lead this conversation in the direction he wanted it to go. 

“There’s some old news stories about some mysterious old ruins north of here,” Norton mentioned as he rummaged through some old newspapers in his bag to show them. In his hand were pictures of the Ancient Quarry that Rean knew was north of here. “Rumors say some unexplainable stuff happens there. I was thinking about checking it out during my trip there.”

“Oh yeah! I read about that in some files! It’s called the Ancient Quarry!” Millium jumped and enthusiastically waved her hand as if she didn’t already catch everyone’s attention. “Apparently the higher elements are active there and some kind of evil djinn lives there!”

“Djinn? Aren’t those said to be spirits of wind or fire?” Gaius asked.

Emma nodded. “Yes they are, according to the folklore I’ve read. It’s also said that they can take the form of humans or animals.”

The gears in everyone’s heads were turning, making the connection between the abnormal amount of fire and wind elementals here with the djinn in the Ancient Quarry. Rean didn’t blame them for thinking the two were related because he would’ve had the same thought process if Alberich wasn’t in the area.

Maybe it was wrong to assume that Alberich was the cause of all his problems, but he couldn’t ignore the sick feeling that twisted his gut.

"But the Ancient Quarry is pretty far from here, according to a map I saw," Rean said, trying to convince them that maybe they were following the wrong lead. "Would a monster from there really have an effect all the way here?"

"Well, we don't exactly have any other leads to chase," Millium shrugged, crossing her arms behind her head with a smile. "I don't see any harm in checking it out, at least!"

True. The worst that could happen was that they find nothing and the priest arrives to possibly solve the problem.

“I suppose it’s settled, then,” Jusis’ voice snapped Rean out of his thoughts. “We’ll explore the Ancient Quarry.”

“Can I go with you guys?” Prince Cedric looked up at them with puppy-dog eyes, only to have his hopes crushed by his friend.

“Your Highness, Uncle would kill both of us if we willingly went near an evil djinn,” Kurt fervently shook his head and grabbed Prince Cedric’s arm before he could possibly run off to their horse. 

The prince's arms were crossed in frustration. “Like I said before, call me Cedrock Lenheim . Anyway, I bet Olivert and Mueller beat up an evil djinn when they were our age!”

Kurt only sighed in exasperation to his friend's antics.

“Sorry guys, but I think I’ll stay,” Gaius spoke up, glancing back and looking at Thoma and then at his family’s tent. “I need to make sure my people are well fed and protected.”

Rean patted his shoulder reassuringly. “There’s no need to apologize. Looking after one’s family is admirable and shows that you deserve your place with your people.”

Yeah, it was normal to protect one’s family. Not to slice their necks.

“Same! I’m staying with Gaius to help everyone out!” Thoma pumped his fist up in determination. 

Rean let out a small smile at the brothers’ resolve to help their people, his only reprieve from all the stress that was crashing into his brain. He was still trying to shove all his paranoia to the back of his mind, but he couldn’t pretend to not be worried that they were going to waste their time exploring the northern region while Alberich was in the southern region.

This couldn’t just be some huge coincidence, could it?

At this point, however, worrying would do nothing to help the situation. They had a plan and Rean was too much of a coward to talk about any suspicions that had no evidence other than his gut to back it up. Whatever faced them in the future would just be something he would have to face head on with his friends. 

But then a hand on his shoulder stopped him from mounting his horse. He turned his head to see ruby eyes pinning him with more concern than earlier.

“Actually, Rean…” Alisa began, voice reflecting an unusual tone of uncertainty. “I think you should stay here, too.”

 

...What?

 

His unvoiced question must’ve been obvious to read from his face because Alisa continued, “You've been really quiet before we got here, plus you’ve been spacing out a lot. I honestly think you should rest!”

Rest? No. Rean rarely got any good rest on a good day. What did it matter?

“I agree with Alisa. You hid it well, but I’ve noticed some signs that you were losing focus,” Jusis stared at him with a serious, unwavering gaze. “I would rather not have another repeat of Bareahard, so I think you should stay behind.”

He should’ve felt okay with this because he could find a way to go off on his own to find Alberich. However, he couldn’t help but feel like a bucket of ice water was dumped over his head with the way his spine suddenly started to quiver.

It sounded like...

“Yeah, Rean, I noticed you didn’t eat well last night so maybe that’s why you’re not feeling so well today,” Millium added, and Gaius and Emma nodded along with her. “You should rest up and eat up so you have enough strength for later!”

...Like he was being left behind because his well-being wasn’t optimal.

The thumping of his heart only seemed to grow louder in his ears as he realized that he wouldn’t be able to convince them to let him come with them. Lips pulled in a flat line, Rean pointed to Norton. “How can he get there if I’m not going? There isn’t space for three people on one horse.”

At once, Millium snapped her fingers as a wide grin spread across her face. “Don’t worry about that, he can ride with Jusis. I have Lammy here to carry me!” Promptly, Airgetlam appeared right beside her and she jumped into its arms and positioned herself as if she was lying in a hammock.

“Wha- What in Aidios’ name is that?!”

She completely forgot that there were other people here to gasp at the sudden appearance of Airgetlam, but that wasn’t exactly important enough to draw Rean’s attention away from how his friends were warmly smiling at him. 

Were they really that happy to leave him here so he could… do what? Rest? Do nothing? Be useless? With how Gaius, Thoma, Prince Cedric, Kurt and the soldiers were here, Rean felt like his presence here would be very unnecessary. He’d be more useful in the exploration with monsters to kill.

Yet they denied him that? Even though he didn’t have a fever this time? But… His well-being was always in tatters, only hidden behind how certain supernatural elements gave him “strength” and longevity. Did that mean, if they found the truth, they would always leave him behind?

It was only now that he realized that there was no place in Class VII for someone who couldn’t take care of themselves.

And Rean doubted he would ever sincerely take care of himself, so that meant...

(...He couldn’t believe he spent a whole month getting his hopes up.)

Trying his best to keep the pain out of his voice, he weakly smiled at them. 

“I understand. Stay safe, you guys.”

He kept his eyes on his horse, so he didn’t notice the intensifying looks of concern that were directed at him. Thankfully, there were other people who couldn’t sense his inner turmoil and shifted the attention away from him. 

“Um, by the way...” The prince scratched his cheek nervously as he looked at all of them.  “Are you all part of Class VII? The class that my brother always talks fondly about?”

Because of the comment about how Prince Olivert talked about the class, Rean could sense how everyone except Millium was growing in confusion. He, luckily, did know and was too tired to waste time asking questions he knew the answers to. Kindly and still masking his previous disappointment, he replied, “Yeah, we’re Class VII.”

Sparkles danced in Prince Cedric’s eyes and Rean felt very uncomfortable with feeling like he was being admired . “I knew it! You guys are so cool!!”

Eh?

Both Alisa and Emma stepped back in surprise and with a flattered smile while Jusis was muttering lowly, “To receive this kind of praise from the Crown Prince…”

Meanwhile, Millium just took the compliment in stride. “Heck yeah! I know we’re super cool!”

Glowing even more, Prince Cedric continued his praise, encouraged by the feedback he received. “You’re all so observant, knowledgeable, and coordinated! I never would’ve thought to check the wind or the balance of the main elements! Nor would I have known about the backgrounds of any of the sites or landmarks here! You covered so much that I couldn't even think of anything to add! I didn’t know that the Thors Military Academy was this thorough in its education!”

Rean wanted to say that this wasn’t a result of their education in Thors, that Gaius, Emma and Millium specialized in wind-sensing, element-sensing, or information-gathering and they were simply contributing information based on their specialties. However, the brilliant lights in Prince Cedric’s bright blue eyes were so full of admiration and awe that it seemed like no one wanted to correct him on that statement. 

Prince Cedric was now specifically staring at Alisa, Jusis and Millium. “What impressed me the most was how you're all putting so much effort into saving your classmate's home even though you know barely anything about them. AND you all even took everyone’s well-being into consideration and made sure your comrade didn’t push himself by not bringing him to a dangerous dungeon! It’s so clear how much you all care for each other!”

Actually, Rean did have a problem with exactly the idea of his well-being being the limit of how much he could help them. And he was seriously doubting the validity of the statement of his classmates caring about him at the moment. 

Oh well. His feelings shouldn’t get in the way of the class’ desires. 

“It’s what friends do,” Gaius said, further confusing Rean.

Back at Celdic, didn’t they define friendship as being there for each other and fighting alongside one another? How was sitting back and resting related to how he could contribute as their friend?

Rean was going to get a headache.

“That’s wonderful to hear! Being stuck in the palace with little social interaction with anyone my age, I’ve always wanted to expand my connections and make new friends!” Prince Cedric excitedly looked at his blue-haired friend. “Kurt, let’s take over the school by a storm when we enroll next year, like how Olivert did when he was at Thors!”

Kurt sighed. “I’m starting to get an idea of how Mueller feels when he deals with Prince Olivert…”

And Rean was starting to think that Prince Olivert was a terrible influence.

“Well then,” Prince Cedric turned and focused his attention on the group headed to the Ancient Quarry. With an excited smile, he waved at them. “I’m sure if you were able to beat up a stone gargoyle with ease, you’ll have no problem beating up this evil djinn!”

“You were even told that story?” Alisa sweat-dropped as she mounted her horse with Emma. 

“Yes, and I can’t wait to hear more stories about you guys! Good luck!”

“Yeah! We'll do our best to solve this mystery and save the Nord Settlement! Good luck to you too, Cedrock!”

And with that, Millium flew off with Airgetlam while Alisa, Jusis, Emma, and Norton rode their horses toward the northern exit.   

Losing no enthusiasm, Prince Cedric turned and beamed at Rean and Gaius. 

“So then, what now?”

Thoma was the one who answered for his brother. “Like we said earlier, Gaius and I will take care of everyone here first. After that, we’ll look around the settlement for any other clues.” He paused, looking up at Gaius for confirmation. “Right?”

“That’s right,” Gaius nodded before his eyes focused on Rean. He felt like those light blue eyes were focused on him for an eternity too long, and Rean felt bad because Gaius should’ve been focusing on his family right now. Rean should've been the one worrying and giving comfort to him, not the other way around.

How was this guy even able to act like everything was fine when almost everyone from his home was reduced to a state like this?

“I’ll… rest,” Rean managed to bite out and didn’t miss how his remaining classmate seemed to let out a sigh of relief at his response. “After that, I’ll help investigate the area. For now, however, I think we should all prioritize the health of all the settlers and animals here, okay?”

“Okay!”

Notes:

So, I may have made some minor changes with the field study. But see? The first chapter of the Nord field study is done and no one was physically injured (I'm so sorry Gaius' home)! I call that a significant improvement over Celdic’s and Bareahard's first chapters! I told you it would be peaceful!

Also, pre-CSIII Cedric (and his relationship with Kurt) is precious and innocent. I hope nothing terrible happens to him in the future ._.

And one last thing: Don't forget that Gwyn is chillin in Nord. The Reinfords might have one hell of a reunion in the future.

To be continued in “Chapter 15: Self Denial”
Where we follow the misadventures of Cedrock Lenheim and his crew (not really).

Thanks for reading, take care, and I’d appreciate a comment!

Chapter 15: Self Denial

Notes:

Sorry for the delayed update! These past few months were hell and writing these chapters was hell and my self-confidence was hell XD. Honestly, I don’t know how to feel about how these two chapters came out, but I spent more than two whole months on them so it's time to just move forward, rElEnTlessLy—

If you’re wondering how and why I pumped out two chapters at the same time, it’s because this was supposed to be one chapter… but then it got super long… so… yeah this happened.

Also there may be formatting errors that I'll try to fix later.

Hope you enjoy it!

Cedric was well aware that he was naive, inexperienced, and oblivious to many things in the world. There was only so much he could learn from private tutors and stories from Olivert. That was why he was terrified at the idea of being the Crown Prince. 

How could he—being as ignorant as he was—be the one chosen to lead this country? He knew politics and the history of Erebonia and all the other required academic subjects, but it wasn’t enough. He didn’t know how to speak to people’s hearts like Alfin. He didn’t know how to grab everyone’s attention and be listened to like Olivert. 

And he certainly didn’t know how to rule with an iron fist like Chancellor Osborne. 

He didn’t deserve to be given the title of ‘Crown Prince.’ In fact, he was starting to lose confidence in his place as a Reise Arnor. Everyone in his family was incredibly brilliant and talented except him. 

These doubts, however, were kept inside because it wasn’t expected of someone with his status to have such insecurities. He’d never seen his siblings or parents be doubtful, so why should he?

But then there was a day when Kurt expressed his doubts over his swordsmanship. 

Cedric was well aware of these doubts beforehand, they just never talked about it because they weren’t sure if it was something to be talked about. 

But Kurt did and when asked why he started talking about it, he regaled a tale of how he was secretly practicing his sword skills in the sewers of Heimdallr one night (“like an idiot!” Cedric had screamed at him). Kurt could never get a certain technique right and, after so many hours of practicing, he grew so frustrated that he threw his swords at the wall.

Unfortunately, when he threw his swords, he didn’t realize that there was someone nearby until it was too late. Horrified, he closed his eyes so he couldn’t watch the sword hit the person’s face. A moment later, only the clang of the sword hitting the wall was heard.

“Are you okay?” a voice spoke to Kurt and he realized that the person must’ve been unharmed if they didn’t sound hurt. 

Opening his eyes, he realized that the person was the Ashen Saint and immediately apologized. Amidst all the guilt and frustration, he ended up confessing his feelings of self-doubt and pinned the blame of his lack of control on his feelings. 

Nevertheless, the Ashen Saint wasn't agitated at a potentially near-death experience. They patted Kurt’s head like everything was alright, gave him some words of wisdom, and guided him back to his family. Needless to say, Kurt received a stern scolding and punishment from his family, but it seemed like he gained a little determination to change the way he approached his swordsmanship. 

(Though he was currently stagnating again.)

The reason why he told Cedric all of this was because the first step was understanding himself and a major part of Kurt’s self was tied to being Cedric’s protector.

Unfortunately, Cedric didn’t know how to help Kurt understand himself which only discouraged his friend. The concept was too abstract for him to understand, especially when he realized he didn’t quite understand himself that well. He’d always idolized others but never gave much thought to himself. Maybe if he did, he’d finally understand why he was chosen to be next in line to the crown. 

Naturally, Cedric asked Olivert for help.

“Ah, Bosom-Buddy, look!” Olivert excitedly exclaimed, directing his words to Mueller as he brought the two boys into a light hug. “Our little brothers are finally ready to embark on a journey of self-discovery! They grow up so fast! Hey, where should their pilgrimage be? Liberl? Maybe I should go with them and meet up with Schera—”

“You—!” Mueller cruelly tore Olivert away from the boys. “If you sneak into Liberl again, with our brothers no less, I swear—”

“But wouldn’t you like to see Julia again?” Olivert was smirking deviously and wiggling his eyebrows while Mueller’s face was growing a slight shade of red that the boys had never seen before.

Ignoring the possibility that they were talking about each other’s love lives, Cedric asked, “Why would we have to go to Liberl?”

Olivert was released from Mueller’s grasp, clearing his throat with a cough. “Well, my dear little brother, every self-respecting journey of self-discovery requires an adventure. It’s easier to see your own wonderful traits when they contrast with the cruel, beautiful world, after all~ It’s also a bonus if you meet a silver-haired beauty who can drink you under the table and—”

Mueller slapped a hand over Olivert’s mouth and sighed. “Ignore that last part. But yes, I would have to agree with this idiot that it certainly helps to go to a place that’s completely different from your normal. To see the world with your own eyes will help you understand what you want.” His eyes shifted to Olivert. “And so, the day this buffoon was left to his own devices was one of Erebonia’s greatest mistakes.”

Olivert said something, a whine probably, but it was muffled. 

Cedric chuckled. They sure were as close as ever.

And so, with the approval of the rest of their families, it was decided that Cedric and Kurt would go on their “journeys of self-discovery” when they were both fifteen. They couldn’t secretly go to Liberl, unfortunately, but they could go to the Nord Highlands. It was peaceful enough, despite being so close to Calvard, and the chances of them being ambushed by nobles or reporters were low.

That was how they ended up at the Nord Highlands, and Cedric could swear he entered a completely new world. He never really thought about air, but breathing in the air here made his mind feel clearer and his body lighter. His usually frail body was surging with newfound energy and he wondered if it was possible for him to run laps around the whole area without getting tired. He really felt like he could do everything— a feeling so excitingly unfamiliar to him when he realized how limited he was by staying in the palace.

Another thing: Everything was so green . Heimdallr was red and warm and his home, while the Nord Highlands was green and cool and different, yet precious for the way the scenery could soothe his anxieties.

So, to commemorate this new life and freedom and adventure, he dubbed himself “Cedrock Lenheim.”

(It irritated him to no end that almost no one was calling him that name. Even Kurt— that traitor!)

Truly, Cedric didn't think he had been living until now. 

Especially when he was now stuttering around the Thors students as if he hadn’t taken years of proper speech and etiquette. He realized just how dependent he was on others for approving how he acted because he was always shifting his eyes, looking for someone to tell him he was acting correctly.

But there was no one except Cedric and Kurt, antisocial soldiers, and a bunch of students who didn’t seem to care that much about his blunders.

The worst part, however, was having no idea what he was doing. 

Most of the discussion between the students of Class VII went over his head, as he focused mostly on trying to find a change in the colors of the scenery— only to then get distracted by the thought of slaying an evil djinn like a hero. 

Really, in his perspective, it was like he was living one of Olivert’s stories. Because of this, he felt more compelled to be like the hero of a story. This was his chance to shine, to show that he could be the least bit comparable to Olivert, and maybe feel like he was strong enough to take the throne.

Unfortunately, his eagerness to help could only get him so far. He was still very, very inexperienced, and that trait of his showed when he and Kurt followed Thoma into the tents to help him cook food for his people. Meanwhile, the soldiers stayed outside to patrol the area, Rean was also left to rest, and Gaius, under Thoma’s reassurance that they would be fine by themselves, went to investigate the ‘curse’ outside. 

Cedric tried to help by cutting some vegetables. To his surprise, however, he learned that wielding a knife did not correlate to his ability to hold a sword, resulting in him accidentally nicking his finger with the blade.

“Your Highness, do you want to take a break?” That was Kurt’s way of banning him from using a knife.

“No, I’m good!” Cedric chirped, pretending to not wince when his friend wrapped a bandage tightly over his wound. 

Thoma stopped stirring the pot, looking at him in concern. “You’re more clumsy than I was expecting.”

He tried not to take offense to that, especially since it was true. Curiously, he asked, “What were you expecting?”

“Someone like Emperor Dreichels.” Oh Cedric wished. Thoma mused before offering him a ladle. “Here, you can stir the pot full of stew.”

Another way Cedric tried to help was by stirring the pot full of stew. He was never allowed to help cook in the royal kitchen, but he thought just moving the ladle around and around seemed easy enough. 

And it was. Spinning and spinning the liquid was so easy.

Until he started stirring faster and faster and then the thick, creamy liquid ended up spilling over the pot and splashing onto his arm and to the floor. 

The details of him rolling on the floor and hissing, getting Kurt to immediately administer first aid would not be disclosed. Needless to say, his best friend also banned him from anything cooking-related and his self-confidence severely plummeted. 

It didn’t help that he could sense frustration from the native of the Nord Highlands.

Frustration. That was new  

No one ever seriously expressed frustration with him (except Alfin who got mad if he declined her tea party invitations). Even when Cedric often failed to do something right, he never received an annoyed glare. These were honest mistakes, it wasn’t like he meant to accidentally hurt himself! He didn’t think it would warrant frustration as long as he didn’t make the mistake again..!

Wanting to change Thoma’s frustration toward him, Cedric sent a burning gaze into the side of the boy’s skull, waiting until he let out a sigh and suggested something else he could do to help. 

And so, the task now was to help the Nordian family sit up to be ready to eat the food. 

Such a simple sounding task still proved difficult for the frail prince, arms shaking as he tried to raise the upper body of the littlest girl, Lily Worzel. He placed his palm flat against her back and one hand around her shoulder and then— she hissed loudly, face scrunching up slightly while her voice cut through all sound in the tent.

Cedric flinched back, terrified that he somehow hurt her, but made sure not to release her or else she would’ve fallen backwards. 

“I’m so sorry! I didn’t mean to—!” He didn’t even know what he did wrong, but it was obvious he caused her pain. He handed Lily to Thoma the moment he approached, carefully cradling his little sister in his arms as he asked what happened. “I- I just touched her back and her shoulder and she just reacted like that!”

The boy sighed again and Cedric was starting to hate the sound because he didn’t even know what he did this time. Regardless of Cedric’s inner concerns, one of Thoma’s hands gently put pressure against Lily’s left shoulder, the girl hissing out again as she flinched away from his hold. 

“I’m sorry Lily, just one moment, okay?” 

The prince's bright blue eyes watched how the boy handled his sister with such care, and suddenly his frustration melted away. Cedric could recognize that he cared for his family with the way he moved and looked at his little sister. It was similar to his parents and his older brother and even his sister.

(It was just… so weird how Thoma was younger than him and knew how to take care of his family. If Cedric was in his shoes… he wouldn’t have a clue what to do…)

Letting her head rest against his chest, Thoma gently brushed her hair with one hand while the other carefully rolled up her left sleeve. The action revealed unblemished tan skin from her fingertips to her upper arm. However, on her shoulder was a red mark in the shape of a sun with emphasized blunt edges- no, maybe it would be more accurate to describe it as an ominous thick-inked cog. 

The marking appeared so foreign to Cedric, yet it somewhat reminded him of a story Olivert once told him, but he couldn't remember which...

“A tattoo?” Kurt asked, eyes flicking between the red marking on Lily’s shoulder to the entrance of the tent. “I recall your brother had red tattoos along his forearm. I suppose it’s normal for your tribe. Is it fresh? Is that why it hurts?”

Thoma frowned, staring deeply at the mark to try to decipher its meaning. “She shouldn’t. Even if she did, it wouldn’t look like that,” Eventually his eyes widened as his hand moved to raise his left sleeve. When the cloth rolled up over his shoulder, he let out a small grunt of pain as everyone saw the same cog-like mark sit on his skin. 

“I… This wasn’t here yesterday,” he grimaced, tracing the red mark in befuddlement, but also with wicked intrigue.

Kurt tapped his chin in deep thought before he glanced at Cedric for a second, then moved to raise the sleeves of the rest of his family, all revealing that strange mark on their left shoulders.

Again, Cedric furrowed his eyebrows. Strange red mark on shoulder… There was a name for this, he was pretty sure..!

“Do you recall anything strange happening yesterday?” Kurt asked.

“No…” Now Thoma was suddenly grasping at his head, a grunt escaping his gritted teeth. “I was just hanging out with Sharl the whole time. I don’t remember anything weird…”

That name sent shivers up Cedric’s spine as he recalled flashbacks of when he was exploring the military installation. He had been staring at one direction for a long while, daydreaming about what his adventure through the Nord Highlands would be like. Unfortunately, his blind gaze happened to be pointed at some girl named Sharl, and her father eventually stomped toward him and yelled at him about how he should keep his ‘perverted gaze’ off his girl. 

Of course, the man apologized to him once he realized who he was, but Cedric was still traumatized because he had never been yelled at like that. “Wow, from what I’ve seen of her father, he’s extremely overprotective of his daughter. I’m surprised he would let any boy or man near her."

Thoma suddenly let out a pained gasp, eyes squeezing shut as the grip on his head tightened. "Wait, you’re right— I—"  He gasped again. Cedric exchanged a concerned look with Kurt, wondering what was going on with him. "Wait— I remember meeting a man- a red-eyed man, I think— I think we talked, but I don't remember— Why don't I remember?"

Red markings…

Specific memory loss…

Kurt glanced between all the identical markings that sat on all the settlers' shoulders. “Could that man be related to the appearance of these markings? And could they be related to why everyone is acting so strange?”

Strange behavior...

“It really reminds me of a story Olivert once told me… It’s just on the tip of my tongue…” Cedric hummed, tapping his chin in deep concentration until a certain word finally popped in his head. At once, his eyes widened as if he had an epiphany and shouted, “STIGMA!”

Everyone flinched, not expecting the sudden shout from the prince but no one was too worried because he looked like he’d just struck gold. 

“Sorry, I got excited.” He sheepishly rubbed the back of his head before continuing. “But I finally remembered that Olivert once told me about how he met a person who had a stigma, and it looked like a small red tattoo on his shoulder. He said that this stigma-thing was able to change his personality or make him act against his will— it was something along the lines of mind control.” Cedric curiously looked up at everyone. “Maybe these are stigmas and they're causing everyone to act weird?”

Kurt thoughtfully considered his words as he recalled the story Olivert once told them. To his disappointment, however, Thoma looked doubtful about his idea. A reasonable reaction, he understood, especially since it was all second-hand knowledge.

“Stigmas? Controlling people? That sounds crazy,” Thoma’s voice held a tone of impatience in it, eyes still closed from what he assumed to be a headache. “Ugh— As if something like that is possible.”

Never had Cedric ever doubted Olivert’s stories, despite how crazy some of them sounded. “Well, my brother said it’s true, so—”

“Based on all the stories you’ve said about your brother, he sounds like a lunatic.”

What… Did he just say..?

His anger toward the family-loving boy rushed back in full force. Cedric felt as if time had just frozen, unable to compute how someone had the audacity to insult his brother right in front of his face. He could handle Thoma’s building frustration with him because he was aware that he was not being the best help at the moment. However, to call Olivert mad? Now that crossed a line. 

“Don’t call Olivert a lunatic!” 

“Then prove that these are stigmas!” Thoma was seething, and maybe Cedric would've wondered why he was so angry and how it escalated so fast if not for his own festering emotions. “Prove that these tattoos are the cause for everyone’s behavior, or else you’re just wasting everyone’s time!”

“I’ll prove it!” He honestly had no idea how he would go about proving that these markings were the same markings from Olivert’s stories, but he was too angry to think about it. Stepping forward, he grabbed the boy's collar. “But first, apologize for calling Olivert crazy!”

Thoma mirrored his glare, reaching out to aggressively grab Cedric’s collar in retaliation. “I’m not apologizing unless you prove it!”

Kurt moved between them, pushing against both their shoulders to pull them away from each other . “Both of you need to calm do—”

“Calm down? How can I calm down when everyone’s acting like zombies and this guy decides to waltz into our settlement and treat everything like a fun adventure?” 

“I’m no—” Cedric’s voice died in his throat when he saw how tears sprang out of Thoma’s hate-filled eyes.

“You make a big deal about what your name is, next you get excited about beating up some random djinn that may not exist, then you spend a whole minute admiring Class VII, and now you’re wasting more time by spouting some nonsense about mind-controlling tattoos! Tell me how that’s taking anything seriously!”

Cedric couldn’t form any words on his tongue, unable to think of how to refute that. Kurt was the one who had to defend him. “Cedric is just trying to get adjusted to all the new things he’s experiencing!”

“I don’t care if I’m talking to a spoiled prince or an emperor! He said that he would help us, but he couldn’t even do stuff like cut the vegetables or cook when we wanted his help to feed my people! Instead, he’s just being useless !”

The sound of heavy breathing filled the entire tent, the last word painfully ringing in Cedric's head . He wanted to argue that he was definitely taking everything seriously, there were just a lot of things that went over his head..! Maybe he got distracted easily and maybe he had no idea how to help prep with cooking, but he wasn’t useless— 

Lightless- lifeless eyes which refused to blink. Limbs with the strength equal to a ragdoll.

Cedric’s gaze landed on the littlest sister’s face, actually looking at her condition, actually processing its meaning in his head, and actually understanding what it meant for a person to not be able to wake up.

The feelings of exploring a brand new world and starting an adventure suddenly vanished, replaced by the nervousness of entering an ominous dollhouse with the family as the soulless dolls. 

If Cedric had to be honest, he never felt comfortable when Alfin asked him to have a tea party with her and her dolls. So how had he not noticed this before?

Seeing Cedric's pained face, Kurt reacted immediately by throwing scowls at the native.

“Take that ba—”

“AH—” Thoma collapsed to the floor, falling to his knees and resting his head against the floor. Shocked, Kurt lost all his aggression and stepped back, not sure what caused Thoma to fall.

“Uh.” Again, Cedric had absolutely no idea what to do and he started to feel terrified at his own powerlessness and ignorance. The only thing he could think of doing was crouch beside the boy and ask, “What’s wrong?”

“I feel like there’s something… crawling in my head..!” Thoma grit out through clenched teeth as his eyes shut and his body curled in toward itself.

Cedric’s eyes darted toward his best friend, hoping he would know what to do. “Um, Kurt, is that some kind of status condition we can cure?”

Kurt shook his head, equally bewildered by the situation. “We should go get someone to help.”

Before he could make another step toward the exit, Thoma suddenly stopped writhing on the floor as his pained grunts were silenced. They would’ve thought he fell unconscious if not for how his hands trailed down from his head to wrap around his sides.

“Thoma..? Does your stomach hurt now?” Cedric didn’t know any other reason why the other would hold his sides.

He didn’t receive any verbal response. Instead, he just saw Thoma raise his upper body, hands tucked in his sleeves. Such a detail, however, didn’t stick in his mind because Thoma’s wide-eyed, penetrating stare was freezing him on the spot.

Cedric shouldn’t have felt so intimidated by someone who had just been in so much pain, but the sudden transition of Thoma’s frustration with him, to his sudden agony, and now to his silence was making him scared. Cedric had an infinite amount of curiosity, but the unpredictability and unreasonableness of the younger’s actions made him fear the unknown.

And such feelings only reached greater heights when he stared back into those pale blue eyes, seeing them lack any light and any emotion.

Just like all the other people he thought might be hypnotized. 

The next moment went by too fast, Cedric barely processing how Thoma raised one of his arms high above his head, sleeve rolling down to his shoulder to reveal a sharp kitchen knife being brandished in his fist.

“Cedric!” Kurt alarmedly called his first name out without any honorifics, a rare action.

His body apparently forgot to move and also forgot the harm knives could bring despite being cut by one a few minutes ago. He just mutely watched as Thoma swung the knife down.

Down to Cedric’s head.

 

---

---

 

It was no surprise when his muscles were twitching from restlessness when five minutes passed after the others disappeared into one of the tents. To do nothing while everyone else was doing something? Rean felt so useless. 

Plus this paralyzed land, with the lack of wind and the almost-monochrome grass, provided little to no interesting stimuli to keep him distracted from the cursed feeling within. He could always feel a tiny portion of that blood-thirsty power providing fuel to his every movement even under non-stressful circumstances, never failing to remind him of what he was. Now however, it seemed like the somewhat dormant power was surging to life, crackling like electricity to urge his muscles to reach for his blade.

Rest, under normal conditions, just wasn’t possible for him. He could only receive it when he was tired enough that even the cursed power within was burnt out.

So then, regardless of whatever Class VII thought, he refused to stay still. Sure, he wasn’t feeling great, but so what? Doing nothing was going to help move Class VII forward. His lack of well-being wasn’t relatively bad compared to Bareahard either. 

Rising to stand on his legs, he glanced at the tent Gaius and the others were currently occupying and then glanced at the exit. An entire plan formed in his mind, about how he would march out of the exit, send Gaius a quick text that he wanted to rest at Zender Gate, and then be on his way to… find Alberich or something. 

(A dumb idea, but at least it was something.)

But, as he moved one step toward the gate, his ears suddenly caught a loud sound of wings flapping, and a heavy weight suddenly perched itself on his shoulder. Stiffly, he turned his head to see a brown-feathered hawk nonchalantly sitting on his shoulder.

As if it thought Rean was a tree or something.

Okay. This was new. 

Gently, Rean shrugged his shoulders and hoped that the hawk would get the message that he was a tree that didn’t want to be messed with. Unfortunately, the bird didn’t even react when he poked at its talons, trying to pry its feet off of him. 

He let out a heavy sigh, realizing that this bird would not let go of him. Deciding that there was nothing that could be done other than violence, Rean decided to accept his fate as the hawk’s moving perch and marched toward the exit.

Or, he would have, if the bird didn’t suddenly peck him. 

Ignoring the prick of pain that was throbbing on the side of his head, he glared at the bird that was pretending that nothing happened. Warily, he moved his foot forward, only to receive another peck on his head. 

His foot then landed on the grass, and he moved his other foot to follow it. Unsurprisingly now, the hawk pecked him again with slightly greater intensity.

It was obvious now. This bird did not want him to leave. Suddenly, he recalled how Gaius once mentioned how he was friends with a hawk. 

If he remembered correctly, the name of that bird was— 

“I see you’ve been acquainted with Zeo,” came Gaius’ amused voice, Rean turning around to see his classmate exit the Worzel tent.

THUMP

He jumped, not at the sudden arrival of his friend but at the sudden wave of annoyance that hit him. Class VII had never truly frustrated him before; Jusis and Machias’ bickering never really bothered him when it was at its worst. So it was so strange that Gaius—out of all people—incited such an awful emotion from him.

Was he that upset at them for telling him to do nothing..?

(Great, he didn't even understand his own feelings now.)

With an exasperated smile, Rean said, “He certainly seems dutiful.” Feeling those insightful eyes burn into his skin, probably seeing more behind his smile than he would’ve liked, he changed the topic of conversation. “But anyway, how are you feeling, Gaius? With your family in this state and with the wind ceasing to blow, I doubt you’re taking things as easy as me.”

Not to mention, he seemed to lack his usually graceful and smooth movements, replaced by slight languor. It wasn’t like Gaius at all. 

“I appreciate your concern, friend, but I’m fine. For the most part.” He walked up to Rean, taking a short glance back at his tent. Signs of stress were present in how his muscles were tighter than usual and in how his fingers slightly twitched. “Though I would be lying if I said I wasn’t frustrated by the situation. The reason I left home was to understand the conflict between Erebonia and Calvard better, hoping I could use that knowledge to better protect it. Yet, in my absence, they’ve become victims to a curse I can’t even begin to understand.”

Dutiful, honest, and caring. Gaius was an absolute paragon and Rean wished he could ever be a fraction of the man his classmate was. 

"Plus, with the absence of wind, I feel like I've become blind or deaf. It’s a little terrifying, to be honest.”

Hesitantly, Rean placed a hand on his friend’s shoulder. Gaius was usually the one who performed this gesture on him during moments where he was slightly more upset than usual. It often resulted in his nerves being calmed and he hoped that doing this would have the same effect on Gaius. 

It probably was, since Rean received a grateful nod.

“Fortunately, Thoma assured me that he would take care of the family, and the rest of the Class VII are trying to solve this mystery. Not only that, but Father Barkhorn is on the way and I’m sure Aidios will be here to guide us in the meantime.”

Rean stared at his classmate for a long moment, impressed by how Gaius managed to remain mostly calm and level-headed. If he was in this situation and Elise, Mother, and Father looked like that… Well, he’d probably lose sight of himself. 

Deciding to not continue that line of thought, Rean focused on the last part of Gaius' sentence. “I thought your tribe worshiped the wind, not Aidios.”

“Father Barkhorn, a traveling priest, used to visit the settlement often and gave us education. Some of that education included the teachings of Aidios.” Gaius’ lips twitched up while his eyes crinkled just a bit, as if he was recalling a nice memory. “We still worship the wind, but we also worship Aidios. Since arriving in Trista, I’ve been going to church every day and praying.”

“Oh.” 

He never noticed, especially since he always tried to avoid being near any church in general. The place seemed too… holy for him. Plus, with how he cheated death and how he has a connection to the being that wants to destroy the world, he was fairly certain that Aidios hated him. The only reason he continued saying the goddess’ name in vain was because he was sure she wasn’t even listening anyway. 

A moment of silence passed between them before Gaius' ARCUS suddenly started to ring. Flipping the device open, he noted that the caller ID belonged to Alisa and answered.

“How are things on your side?”

“We’re doing good. We just arrived at the Ancient Quarry.”

THUMP

Again? Why did the mere sound of her voice send a pang of annoyance to his gut?

“Yeah!” Millium’s voice cut in. In the background, they could hear the sound of a camera rapidly flashing, presumably from Norton taking hundreds of pictures of the site. “This place looks pretty cool, but it’s blocked. I think I’m gonna have Lammy smash our way in!”

Jusis' sigh was palpable. "What did I tell you about keeping property damage to a minimum?"

"But how else are we supposed to get in?"

Jusis and Millium's conversation faded to the background as Emma's voice prominently rang out.

"Um, I've noticed something odd. You know how there's an abnormal balance of the natural elements in the settlement? On our way here, the balance of elements returned to normal; the wind was blowing again, and I couldn't sense anything else wrong with the environment."

Ignoring the irritated feelings bubbling in his stomach, Rean focused on the realization that the abnormalities happening here would be limited to a certain area. He'd just assumed that the disturbance covered the entire Nord Highlands because he could sense the disturbance at Zender Gate...

Wait, that was wrong. He clearly remembered seeing the colors bleeding back into the setting and feeling the wind blow on his face when he encountered Alberich and Norton earlier. If that was the case, then the area between Zender Gate and the settlement had no imbalances in its environment.

"Gaius… Have you been able to sense any changes in the environment since we arrived at Zender Gate?” Rean asked, wanting to double check his findings.

The other tilted his head in confusion. “No. The air has been still ever since we stepped off that train.”

His brows furrowed, not expecting to receive a response that contradicted his own experience. How strange...

"Well,” he put the concern on the backburner for now. “If the disturbance doesn't extend to the Ancient Quarry, then I doubt the problem lies there. I think you should come back to the settlement."

"I was thinking that too but, when we arrived here, we saw some suspicious individuals sneaking around the area."

Gaius frowned “People? What are they doing there? Is it related to what’s happening in the settlement?”

“Maybe—”

“CRASH!”  

A horrible high-pitched sound echoed from the ARCUS, followed by some low rumbling noise. Before they could ask what happened, concerned of how that noise affected his classmates, Alisa’s voice reassured them.

“And it looks like Millium destroyed the entrance anyway,” she huffed, though she couldn’t hide the touch of fondness in her tone. “At this point, it’d be rude to not at least look around in this place. Guess we’ll update you later on what we find. We’ll see you later!”

“Be careful.” And the call ended.

Gaius pocketed his ARCUS before sighing, “I hope they’ll be okay. I know I was the one who asked Lieutenant General Zechs Vander for permission to investigate the settlement, but I can’t help but feel that we’re going way out of our scope as students.”

Rean snorted, “I feel like it’s becoming a requirement for each field study. I’m sure Instructor Sara doesn’t anticipate half the things that happen to us when we’re left alone.”

“Speaking of being left alone…” Gaius’ tone suddenly shifted, bringing Rean to regard him cautiously. “What’s extremely curious to me is why you tried to leave the settlement.” 

His muscles stiffened slightly, feeling oddly exposed under those inquisitive blue eyes. Ah, he was so busted.

“I asked Zeo to keep you from leaving the settlement because I thought you might run off to help the rest of the class. Clearly, he stopped you, but I didn’t expect him to stop you from going through the southern exit when our classmates are in the north.”

It was strange how Gaius’ words were acknowledging his suspicious activity, yet the guy held no sign of hostility in his smooth voice. Rean would be impressed if he was not busy being worried about what his friend’s actual thoughts were. 

What surprised him was the friendly hand that was suddenly placed on his shoulder. The weight of it wasn’t heavy, suggesting it was not a way to trap him. Instead, the hold was light enough for Rean to shrug it off if he wanted to. 

“You’re not the type to do things without a plan in mind, Rean,” he continued. “I’ve always had this impression that you knew more than you let on. Your lack of surprise to Emma’s revelation that she’s a witch proves this, unless you have one impressive poker face. Though I have a feeling it’s both,” Gaius’ face and tone was only thoughtful. “I also have this feeling that you saw something in the south which is why you just tried to sneak off there by yourself.”

Aidios, he severely underestimated Gaius' insight. There was reasoning behind his classmate's thinking process, but his instinctive feelings were leading him to conclusions which were right.

Rean didn’t exactly know how to come up with a lie that would explain everything, but he couldn’t exactly say the truth. He had a few reasons to protect Black Alberich’s identity, and he didn’t want Gaius to involve himself with the matter. 

So, he remained silent, prompting the other to continue.

“You never did say what your reasoning for attending Thors was. I’m getting the feeling that it's related to how you know so many strange things, like Emma. I won’t press the topic any more though. I can still trust you.” Those five words pierced him through the gut but he wasn’t allowed any time to recuperate. “Actually, the whole reason I brought this up was to tell you to not do everything by yourself.”

Rean almost dropped his jaw at how Gaius chuckled, casually accepting how shady he was and not needing any explanation for anything. But in hindsight, after everything that happened in Bareahard, maybe this shouldn't have been so unexpected. It seemed like all his classmates so far were extremely forgiving. 

(He kind of felt like a paranoid fool for thinking otherwise for a moment.)

“I can’t get out of this conversation, can I?”

Rean made the mistake of looking back at Gaius’ eyes for sympathy or pity. Instead, his gaze became locked with the other's, and he couldn’t help but feel petrified under that knowing look. 

“I think you need it. Lately I’ve been getting the feeling that you’ve been standing on a precipice with only your toes, and only the gentlest of breezes will tip you over.” Gaius made a long pause, giving Rean enough time to agree that, yes, he was on edge and that, at this rate, his friend was going to be the aforementioned breeze that knocked him over. “I’m worried about you.”

Rean suppressed a ridiculous chuckle. Many of the people Gaius knew were acting brain-dead, yet he could still spare enough thought to worry about him? Sure, they were friends but such feelings were wasted on him.

“So… What? You just want me to ask for help? You don’t need me to say anything of what I know?”

He received a nod. “Naturally, I’m curious about the secrets you hold, but I’ll wait for the answers whenever you’re ready.” Ready, a state Rean would probably never achieve and would disappoint all his classmates who were waiting, but he didn’t make any sound to express his hopelessness. “Just know that you can— 

THUMP

“—r̶e̶l̴y̷ ̵o̷n̶ ̷u̵s̷.”

Rean blinked, keeping his hands by his sides to resist trying to comfort his chest. His heart seemed to be acting up a lot recently…

“Okay,” he said, mostly because he wanted the conversation to be done. At least it seemed like Gaius was happy with this response as evidenced by the way he smiled and nodded. “Anyway, I think I've rested enough, so that's enough about me. Let’s focus on fixing the problem with the settlement.”

“So you’re going to go south? I’ll follow.”

While that was the initial plan, he didn’t feel comfortable finding Alberich and accusing him of being behind the ‘curse’ in front of Gaius. 

“When I was thinking of leaving the settlement, I was only acting on a bad feeling I had. I don't actually have anything concrete.” Feeling the bird still perched on his shoulder, Rean got a better idea. “I think it would be better to measure the amount of area that’s showing signs of any abnormalities.”

Gaius nodded, eyes drifting to the hawk that was still perched on Rean’s shoulder. “It seems like a big area, especially with all the non-flat land we would have to climb. But I think Zeo will be able to tell.”

Tilting his head slightly to face the bird that was casually preening, he warily said, “Okay, Zeo, if you’re as smart as Gaius says you are, then you can understand what I’m saying?”

Maybe talking to Zeo was an insane idea because talking to animals was never his forte (and because Gaius could easily communicate with this partner of his). All his experience with Celine could attest to his horrible affinity with animals. Not to mention that Badeaux and Arthur, the Schwarzers' hunting dog and horse, weren't exactly friendly to him until recently. 

To his surprise, however, the bird nodded. 

“Okay then. I’m going to walk away from the settlement—” And wow, the hawk’s glare on him actually intensified, much to Gaius’ amusement. “—until I can sense the wind.” Its head perked up at the sound of the ‘w’ word. “You probably flew around the entire highlands, so you could tell that there were some areas that had wind and some areas that had no wind, right?” He received a quick nod. “Well, I want to measure how expansive this windless zone is, okay?”

He only confirmed that the hawk truly understood his words when he stepped out of the southern entrance and didn’t get pecked. 

“You’re quite the bird whisperer, Rean,” Gaius chuckled, following him out of the gate and into the valley connecting the settlement and the southern highlands.

Rean blushed, about to retort, but then his foot took just one extra step and then his perception of the world shifted again. 

The grey skies were suddenly painted with the warm colors of a sunset as the chirps of birds and roars of monsters echoed through the mountainous landscape. Even a soft breeze brushed against his skin and ruffled his hair. It was like the world had come alive again… or like he had just exited an enclosed zone where the world was dead. 

He took a step back. At once, he could see the colors fade away from the skies and land while only silence met his ears. One step forwards, and he was back inside the colorful and lively setting.

Turning to look at his classmate who wore an equal level of puzzlement and surprise on his face, Rean asked, “You can sense the change too?”

“Yes,” he took out his spear and drew a long line across the dirt, noting how the line was slightly curved and moved from east to west. “It appears that this is the border between disturbed environment and normal. It’s strange how I didn’t notice it before because the difference in the air past this line,” he pointed toward the nomadic settlement before pointing to the area south, “Is completely different from the air before it. I feel like I would’ve noticed the difference upon arrival.”

That didn’t make any sense, unless the area of the environmental disturbance was moving with Gaius at the time… If that was the case, they could find out by returning to Zender Gate and sensing any abnormalities there, but they could save that for later. For now, they just needed to follow the border to see exactly how much area was being affected. 

“Zeo!” Gaius called out and the bird immediately flapped its wings and leapt to perch on his raised arm. “Can you trace the perimeter of the windless zone for us?” 

Rean shouldn’t have been surprised to see another affirmative nod before it took flight. 

What a smart bird.

During Zeo’s entire flight, they noticed a slight curve in its path of flight. Five minutes passed before the hawk flew a perfect, giant circle and returned to perch on Gaius’ shoulder. 

A circle. Interesting. 

“If there was something here causing the disturbance in the environment, it would be reasonable to think it could be placed in the center of the area it was affecting, right?” Rean suggested.

Though… It couldn’t be that easy… could it? Even Thoma and the soldiers couldn’t find anything when they investigated this place earlier. 

Looking at Zeo again, Gaius asked, “Can you pinpoint the exact center of this windless zone?”

Once again, the hawk nodded and took to the skies once again, this time bee-lining toward the center of this disturbed environment. However, when they moved past the drawn line in the dirt, they didn’t sense any abnormalities until they ran five extra arge.

“Could that mean the area being affected shrank?” Gaius would’ve stopped to inspect how the border between normal and abnormal moved, but his companion didn’t bother to slow down or even look back.

“Or the affected area is moving.”

They followed Zeo, eventually seeing the bird circle over the Worzel tent. Shocked, they both opened the flaps of the tent and saw Thoma and Kurt wrestling on the ground; two swords and a knife were left discarded around Prince Cedric’s feet, who stood at the opposite side of the tent. 

“What’s going on here?!” If not for the bizarre scene in front of him, Rean would’ve stared at Gaius in shock because he didn’t think he ever saw him yell with such anger before. 

(Though any big brother would get protective if they saw their siblings get in a fight.)

“Bro, help!” Thoma gasped, struggling because he was weaker in strength. “They want to hurt me!”

“He’s lying!” Kurt grit out of his teeth, finally managing to pin the other to the ground. “He tried to attack His Highness with a knife!”

Both testimonies sounded outlandish and they couldn’t bring themselves to believe either until they got a better grasp of the situation. Nodding at each other, Rean and Gaius tore the boys away from each other, restraining each by putting their hands behind their backs.

Rean found that he didn’t have to put much effort into holding Kurt back, feeling the boy give up resistance. On the other hand, Thoma didn’t look like he was planning to stop thrashing in Gaius’ arms any time soon. 

“Let go of me, Gaius!” Despite all the fury that was emitting from his tone, Rean could see how no light reflected in Thoma’s dull eyes. “I have to kill him!”

Not believing his ears, Gaius didn’t budge, refusing his brother freedom from his arms. “Stop, Thoma! What’s gotten into you? Why would you want to kill Prince Cedric?” 

Only a loud hissing noise escaped his brother's throat, refusing to elaborate any further while he continued to glare at the shell-shocked prince. Figuring they wouldn’t get anymore information from Thoma, Rean set his full attention on Prince Cedric and Kurt. 

“What happened here?

Prince Cedric didn’t meet his eyes, keeping his gaze pointed at the floor. Alarmingly, he was much less enthusiastic than when he first arrived, though almost getting stabbed would most likely have that effect on people. “Thoma got mad at me for messing a lot of things up and saying that those tattoos on their shoulders were stigmas. Then something... weird happened to him.”

Only then did Rean see how Thoma and the rest of his empty-shell-like family all had their left sleeve raised over his shoulder, revealing the 'tattoo.' He’d seen Gaius’ tattoo before and it looked nothing like this cryptic, cog-like marking. In contrast to the mostly black-and-white environment, the tattoo seemed to glow an eerie red.

“Stigma? What does that mean?” Gaius frowned. 

“Um…” Prince Cedric muttered insecurely, still avoiding the students' gazes. “I don’t think you’d believe me. I just thought the markings looked like something from a story I was once told.” 

Kurt walked over to him and comfortingly patted his friend’s back. “It’s okay, Cedric. Mueller told me that not everyone will believe Prince Olivert’s tales and that it’s fine.”

“I know,” Cedric pouted, a myriad of conflicting emotions clashing in his naive eyes. “But I still won’t forgive what he said about Olivert unless he apologizes! Though Thoma does have a point about most of the other things he said, so I’ll apologize for that whenever he recovers from this.” He bit his lip, looking at the younger boy in pity. "But I really do think that's a stigma. He didn't seem like someone to get mad enough to want to hurt someone like this."

Gaius solemnly agreed, hating that he had to restrain his brother like some animal. "This isn't like Thoma at all."

Rean directed most of his attention to the red tattoos. He had many unwelcome tea parties from Lechter to ‘secretly bond because they were technically brothers.’ Rean didn’t exactly agree with the statement and wasn’t exactly the best companion to have for conversation at the time, so these tea parties usually resulted in Lechter trying to swap his drink with alcohol and telling very outlandish-but-true stories about some of the information he dug up. 

A majority of the content in these stories followed a certain princess and her traveling companions. The words ‘stigma’ and ‘artificial stigma’ were thrown around a few times, both meaning two completely different things. A stigma was a supernatural power and was required for an individual to become a Dominion of the church. An artificial stigma was...

“Why do you think these are stigmas?”

Hearing silence for the next few seconds, he chanced a glance at the rest of the occupants in the room. Gaius confusedly glanced at him for a second before continuing to hold his brother back, making Rean just remember how they just had a conversation about his feeling that Rean knew more than he let on. Meanwhile Cedric and Kurt were openly gaping at him.

Ignoring how he was exposing himself to his classmate, he focused on the puzzling attention the two boys were giving him, Rean cautiously asked, “Did I say something wrong?”

Kurt was the one who spoke up. “You act like stigmas are real.”

Oh. Right. Because the prince was the one who mentioned it first, he just assumed they were familiar with the subject. Thinking about it, this subject wasn’t exactly well known to the public. “I’ve heard about it. Based on how the settlers are acting, I think there’s a possibility that these could be artificial stigmas.”

“What’s the difference between real stigmas and artificial stigmas?”

“I don’t really remember what the real ones do,” he lied, then continued with his explanation. “Artificial ones, however, are the physical manifestation of extreme hypnotism.” Only now did he remember that Alberich did have a distant interest in the topic and that Georg was currently under a form of hypnotism. “I can’t prove that these markings are artificial stigmas; however, if it was, it could explain the other settlers' lack of consciousness. They could be waiting to be given orders.”

Thoma growled, still trying to reach out to the prince, “Must… Kill… Foreigner…”

“Wait!” Prince Cedric yelped. “Does that mean Thoma was also hypnotized and he was given the order to kill me?!”

Honestly, Rean didn’t believe that. If Alberich was truly behind this like he suspected, then he would have no reason to kill the prince. There were only so many people who could pilot the Vermillion Knight, after all. 

“Couldn’t that also mean they could be ordered to attack us?” Kurt asked as he warily stepped between his charge and the motionless Nordian family. 

“That’s only if those are actually artificial stigmas. Plus, the information I gave you didn’t exactly come from a 100% trustworthy source.” Seriously, sometimes it was hard to tell whenever Lechter was joking or being serious. “It’s something to keep in mind, but we shouldn’t lose our wits over something we can’t prove.”

“Couldn’t we prove it by giving them an order? If they listen, then we know they’re hypnotized, right?” asked Kurt. 

The thought of ordering someone to do something against their own will made Rean sick to the stomach. Surprisingly, Gaius gave his approval, saying, “It’s worth trying if it helps us understand the problem better. If they don’t listen, then at least we know it’s not hypnotism.”

Kurt walked up to Gaius, looking directly at the boy still thrashing in his arms. “Thoma, calm down!”

“Let me kill him!” The order went over his ears as Thoma’s efforts to get out of his older brother’s arms did not lose any steam.

“Maybe we have to say it differently?” Kurt suggested.

“Um,” Prince Cedric spoke up and looked at the boy. “Can you calm down, please?”

“Prince Cedric, that’s a request, not an order…” Well, at least no one had to worry about the prince becoming a cruel ruler at this rate. 

Still, Kurt might have been on the right track. It would be a dumb decision for Alberich to hypnotize people and let them be controlled by anyone else. It would make sense if they only listened to him or even—

Ishmelga. 

Oh. Wonderful. Rean might’ve just found yet another reason to hate himself.

Stepping up to Thoma and looking directly at those lightless eyes, he said, “You.” He knew that Ishmelga and Alberich weren’t exactly fond of names; it was probably meaningless to address Thoma as anything else in this state. “Calm down.”

He didn’t.

Okay then… second try.

He placed a shaky hand over his heart and focused his mind on finding malicious energy that slept within him. Only darkness pervaded his mind's eye for a few seconds before volatile purple sparks snapped at him like whips, demanding to be released.

He really didn't want to do this… but proving his theory would get them one step closer to figuring out how to fix the problem. He was going to dread explaining this to Gaius, but helping the Nordians was more of a priority than an explanation that was mostly going to be riddled with lies. 

He sighed, before taking a deep breath.

To help them —

THUMP

A small bit of Ishmelga’s energy was let loose, and he unintentionally growled his words out, “You, calm down.”

If Rean had eaten lunch, breakfast, or even last night’s dinner, his stomach would’ve been throwing a fit with him when he saw Thoma stiffen then go unconscious in Gaius’ arms. Instead, he was left with being suffocated with the ever-present existence of the void inside him, a feeling enhanced by the four other pairs of empty eyes that stared back at him. They were waiting for an order.

Obviously Alberich would program his victims to listen to Ishmelga’s commands despite how Rean was sure Ishmelga would never bother to deal with a bunch of worthless nobodies people who haven’t caught his interest. However, the fact that Rean, using Ishmelga’s power, was capable of this was just another reminder that the two were deeply intertwined.

(That was what he always hated about Alberich. The gnome always loved to hammer that fact home.)

“Woah, so they are hypnotized!” Prince Cedric gasped. “How did you do that with your voice?”

“It’s a secret,” he muttered, slowly locking the power back inside before it could actually overwhelm him. Out of curiosity, he glanced at his classmate to see what reaction would be on his face. To his surprise, Gaius only seemed slightly less innocently confused as the boys.

(Maybe he couldn’t sense anything because the wind was absent..?)

So then… Now what? Since they established that these people were hypnotized, what would they do next to break it? “Prince Cedric, since you’ve heard of this before, is it possible that you’ve heard of another way to undo the artificial stigmas?”

“Ah!” The prince tapped his forehead, clearly revisiting all of his memories on the subject. Eventually, he nodded and said, “Oh yes, Olivert mentioned something about how a priest helped the guy with the artificial stigma and removed it. I don’t know the details though.”

So it seemed like it would be best for Father Barkhorn to arrive and deal with this matter, assuming what Prince Cedric said was true. It would be best to focus on the elemental abnormality next since it seemed like that was a separate issue from the hypnotism. 

“Now then. As for what’s causing the disturbance in the environment…” 

“I found something.” Gaius was checking Thoma’s pockets and plucked out a strange, black object. Thin, parallel lines were indented into the casing of this sleek, black device, a common signature of Black Alberich’s own inventions. 

No wonder the soldiers found nothing. They wouldn’t have suspected that Thoma would be hiding something that could be related to the curse.

Looking closely, he saw twelve lines equally placed around the perimeter of the device, making him think this was some sort of clock. However, instead of three hands in the middle that would normally indicate the hours, minutes, and seconds of any other watch, it seemed that there were eight hands on this clock; all seemingly placed at different angles.

He had no idea what any of that meant.

“Do you think this device might be the cause of most of the abnormalities in the area?” Assuming this was on Thoma this entire time, it would explain why the area around Zender Gate was abnormal, and why Rean and Gaius had discrepancies about when they could sense the environmental disturbances. “If we destroy it, do you think the place will return to normal?”

Gaius nodded. “It’s worth a shot.”

Delicately unsheathing his sword, Rean mercilessly swung it down with all the strength he could muster up. A small spark flew from the collision, but no damage could be seen on the object, nor could he sense any change in his environment.

Well, gnome technology tended to be very durable. Rean doubted he could just destroy it with a casual swing of his tachi. Maybe he could ask Millium to smash it with Airgetlam? Or maybe he could ask Alisa to tamper with the settings and shut it down if she could understand how this technology worked?

“Well, I guess we’ll wait until he wakes up so we can ask him where he got this device from. As for now, I’ll call Alisa and the others about what they found on their—”

A sudden shiver rolled up his skin, stopping himself from finishing his sentence. Gaius also tensed up, carefully placing Thoma to sit next to the rest of his family. They both marched out of the tent, eyes roaming the grey surroundings for something. All they saw were the two soldiers who were frantically running up to him. 

“What’s wrong?” Kurt didn’t miss how the two perceptive students shifted into defensive positions. “I felt something strange…”

The two soldiers nodded. “I don’t know what’s going on, but I feel chills, like something more weird is going to happen.”

So even people without sharpened senses could tell something was off…

“All I can say is that I don’t feel particularly safe at the moment,” Gaius admitted. Hearing that, both the soldiers defensively raised their guns and herded Kurt and Prince Cedric behind them. Rean’s attention was more on the clock-like device. It was shaking like it was being hit with an earthquake, cracks breaking through its sleek design while seven of its hands were making revolutions backwards and forwards.

Instinct urged him to grab the object and chuck it as far as possible. Admittedly, he wasn’t the best at throwing things, so it could only go so far. Fortunately, Zeo seemed to agree with his instincts, swooping down to grab the device and flying all the way to the northern valley to drop it.

CRACK

Even from such a distance, they could clearly hear the loud echo of the device cracking apart and exploding. 

“It self-destructed?” Prince Cedric asked.

Unfortunately, Rean couldn’t spare the time to dwell on the implications of that because another shiver raced up his spine, raising goosebumps and strands of hair along his skin. Before their eyes, space seemed to converge in itself above the area where the device broke, a black swirl appearing out of thin air. Eventually, a silver horn emerged from the space, followed by the head of a beast, then wings, and finally a body with a tail until the whole creature popped out and dropped to the ground, shaking the land and skies with its weight. 

Blocking the northern entrance of the settlement now stood a silver, rocky-like scaled monster that was bigger than the size of the Engineering Building back in Trista. The monster imposingly stood on four legs, spiky tail and wings aggressively swishing behind it and giving it the appearance of a beaked dragon.

Funny, how the rest of the class told him to take it easy and he still found himself confronted with something like this.

“What in Aidios’ name is that?!” the soldiers shrieked, hands shaking from the sheer pressure the monster was emitting, trying to point their weapons at the creature.

A cryptid. Probably. Rean never saw a cryptid before, so he didn’t exactly know. What he did know was that this was no normal monster and that it was most likely connected to the device that just self-destructed. 

Artificial stigmas and devices that could distort the elements and potentially summon cryptids— What the hell was Alberich’s plan here?!

“We can’t win against that,” Rean muttered under his breath. Despite how the black device was broken, fire and wind—his and Gaius’ primary elements—were still in depressingly low levels, already giving them an unneeded disadvantage. Even if he unleashed Ishmelga’s power, he was sure that he’d stand no chance. 

To his horror yet not surprise, Gaius didn’t hesitate to raise his spear. “You guys have to run away from here,” he told them before looking up at the soldiers. “Protect them and notify Lieutenant General Zechs about this.”

“Wait, you’re planning on fighting that thing?!” Kurt exclaimed, hand uncontrollably shaking on the hilts of his own swords. Anxious sweat was dripping from his forehead, but a small determined spark of light in his eyes showed that he would fight if he needed to.

Gaius only had to flick his eyes in one direction for everyone to understand the reasoning behind his actions. If they left that cryptid alone, it would only be a matter of time before the monster reached the settlement.

Prince Cedric dropped his jaw, breathing out, “You’re going to fight to protect your family? But...” His brows furrowed, mouth frowning in worry. “Are you even strong enough?”

“I’ll find the strength,” he smiled before turning his back on them, moving toward the cryptid that seemed to be focused on staring at the settlement. 

Rean followed, waving farewell to the astonished group before he caught up to Gaius’ side. “And you guys tell me not to bite off more than I can chew. I know you’re not planning to die. What’s your plan?”

“Says the guy who was probably going to do the same thing as me if I didn’t step up first,” he chuckled, grateful that Rean was going to fight by his side to protect his people. “Hm… I was thinking of stalling until the lieutenant general showed up with a bunch of tanks.”

The soldiers most likely had some way of communicating long distance with Zender Gate. If not, the Erebonian watchtower would be able to see the threat and alert the lieutenant general. Assuming Zender received news of this cryptid right now, it would still take at least thirty minutes for the tanks to mobilize and arrive.

Could they even last ten minutes against this monster?

“And how do you plan on stalling it?”

Once they passed the northern gate of the settlement, a strong clicking reverberated through the air, signalling that their ARCUS’ were linked.

Gaius smirked, quickening his pace until he was in the monster’s range, twirling and thrusting his spear into the air. His movements caused the air to shift, creating his own wind and blasting it toward the monster. Because of the imbalance of wind elementals in the area, the attack was much weaker than usual and probably only felt like a tickle to the monster, but it was enough for it to feel compelled to focus on him.

“By grabbing its attention and dodging its attacks,” Gaius finally replied to his question, just barely evading how the monster swiped its tail at him and left a trail of broken earth in its wake.

With their current abilities, it was the most realistic thing they could do while making sure no harm was done to the settlement. In an ideal world, that plan might’ve even worked, Gaius had exceptionally great evasive abilities so he technically could avoid all the damage until the tanks arrived.

Unfortunately, this was not an ideal world and Gaius couldn’t dodge everything every single time, especially when he openly admitted to experiencing a sensory deficit because of the lack of wind. He also forgot to take into account that physical attacks weren’t the only moves the monster had at its disposal.

Oh, what he would give to have Alisa or Emma here right now. 

Rean clenched his teeth, scrambling through his bag to find his orbement case and hastily swapping his current orbments for anything that would increase his speed, cut his casting speed and, more importantly, let him use Crescent Mirror.

If his gut feeling was right, then this monster was capable of casting devastating arts, and Gaius was not able to dodge such attacks.

The monster snapped its tail at Gaius once again, flinging more of the destroyed earth and one poor tree into the air. Almost immediately—Rean hated how this monster was large, heavy, and still faster than both of them—it let out another deafening roar. Darkness—time elementals—converged into the sky above, forming into a large Shadow Blade before gravity pulled it down toward the students.

“Crescent Mirror!” Rean shouted, finally casting an arts-protection shield, only to be immediately broken when the Shadow Blade pierced the ground and consequently failed to absorb their life force. Not stopping, the monster bellowed once more and a multitude of pointed rocks were summoned above it before they all whizzed through the air in a flash.

“We already need to catch a break,” Rean hissed, running for his life and narrowly dodging the relentless onslaught of sharp boulders being shot at him, vaguely noticing how Gaius was almost swatted by the monster’s tail.

Only three minutes have passed and so far this monster shot life-stealing swords and rocks at them and destroyed the terrain enough so that running and dodging would be harder for them. There was only so much time between each onslaught of attacks for them to cast arts to increase their evasiveness or shield them from attacks. Forget surviving for thirty minutes, he doubted they would last for another three—

ROOOOAAAAAR

Each time a boulder crashed into the ground, debris which consisted of dirt, pebbles, and dust clouded the air, blinding him from whatever the monster was doing. He was still aware that it didn’t move from its spot, so he hadn’t been concerned about any close-ranged attacks. However, the moment he heard the monster’s war-cry, his visual on it cleared, revealing the monster standing tall on its hind legs. 

He didn’t understand the monster’s intention until it started to fall forward, devastatingly crashing into the ground with its front legs, cracking the earth and sending shockwaves through the land and stunning Rean, who had his feet planted on the ground.

“Crap—” One last pointed boulder aimed at him, hurtling toward him through the air while Rean tried to force his shock-ridden legs to move.

“Rean!” Gaius managed to cut in front of him, spear held defensively in front of him to deflect the attack. 

THUMP

He didn’t know how Gaius managed to muster the inhuman strength required to hit a boulder and change its direction just barely enough so it wouldn’t directly crash into them, but he couldn’t think about it because the impact also launched the teen backwards. Rean’s breath was pushed out from how his classmate collided into him, knocking them both to the broken ground.

“My bad,” Gaius winced, already trying to stand back up but it was obvious that his dominant arm was severely strained, evidenced by the weak grasp on his spear.

“No need, you saved me,” Rean kept his gratitude short when he saw darkness converging up in the sky again.

Another Shadow Blade.  

They couldn’t protect themselves against that! Even if they survived a direct hit, they would most certainly be left vulnerable to a finishing blow.

THUMP

He needed to move— 

The echoes of the cryptid’s roar reverberated through the valley once more, making Rean wish to the Goddess that it would just shut up while he could calm his body to grab his sword, grab his ARCUS, or just do anything to at least get Gaius out of range — 

THUMP

The black-coated blade fully manifested above them, a purplish aura weaving around it as it pointed at them and started soaring in the sky toward them.

 

THUMP

 

Rean snarled in seething rage toward his own powerless body, “MOVE—”

 

Light blinded him.

 

“Roaring Heavens!”

 

Huh— 

A ray of light soared into the sky, piercing through the shadow blade and parting the clouds as it disappeared into the beyond. Light rained down, ephemeral glows of yellow bringing color to the monochromatic land, followed by a massive gold and silver gauntlet that seemed to just ooze an aura of divinity. More light converged at the first two knuckles before the gauntlet was launched downward, directly slamming into the cryptid’s back and exploding with another ray of light. 

Rean blinked, suddenly realizing that an elder man, draped in a dark red Gralsritter uniform, was now standing in front of them.

How— 

“Gaius! Long time no see, my boy!” The old man cracked a huge grin, joyously patting the aforementioned person’s back. “How are you doing?”

“Um…” At least Gaius was as shocked as him, or else Rean would feel like he was going insane. “Father Barkhorn, it’s nice to see you again, but… How did you get here? And are you the one responsible for that?” He pointed at the spectacle of lights and gigantic gauntlet still crushing and destroying the cryptid. 

Father Barkhorn bellowed out a laugh, giving Gaius another hard pat on the back. “Consider it a gift from Aidios, kid. You both get to live another day, bahahaha!”

It did not miss either of their critical eyes how faint, intricate marks of red light hovered behind the man. A true stigma. This guy was actually a Dominion. 

Clearly from how the man was not breaking a sweat from unleashing such a strong attack, Barkhorn seemed to be very powerful and experienced. Relief flooded Rean's body, knowing that they would most likely be okay now. 

“Now if you two will excuse me, I need to make sure Aidios’ will is carried through.” The old man turned around and casually stalked toward the cryptid, cracking his knuckles. “Do this old man a favor and keep this a secret, alright?”

Despite how there was a lot about Father Barkhorn that begged their attention, they both simply nodded. Gaius was definitely filled with questions but he could wait until the man finished business here. Meanwhile, Rean decided to use this as an opportunity to observe how a follower of Aidios worked.

Unfortunately, that was impossible.

At once, a loud rumble quaked through the earth as another burst of light blinded the skies. Rean shielded his eyes with his arms, still wanting to see what was going. However, the lights were too bright. Even though many seconds passed, he could not adjust his eyes to the light. He could only rely on feeling the vibrations from every CRACK of the monster's scales being crushed.

After five minutes of not being able to see anything, the sounds and vibrations ceased. Before his eyes could finally adjust to the lighting, he felt a brush of gentle air flow against his skin.

Wind.

When his vision finally recovered from the blinding light, he was met with a myriad of natural cool colors that were normal to the Nordian Highlands. At the same time, he could hear a rain of septith suddenly clink against the earthy ground in the distance, indicating that the cryptid was slain. 

Yeah, he really wouldn't want to make an enemy of the church. Alberich might actually be completely insane to want to oppose them.

Barkhorn casually sauntered back to the two students, cracking his knuckles again like he just had a good workout. “Whoops, I forgot to introduce myself to your friend, Gaius. Let me remedy that now,” he said, turning his attention to Rean. 

The man stood tall and proud, putting one hand on his hip while he held the other out for a handshake.

“Hello there. My name’s Gunther Barkhorn. I’m just your average travelling priest.”

---

Father Barkhorn pretended like his fight with the cryptid never happened, always moving the subject to something else when Gaius asked about it. Luckily for the man, there were many other important subjects to focus on, such as the hypnotism. Gaius provided a brief synopsis about what they learned, about how Prince Cedric connected it to stigmas, and about how Rean was able to prove that the Nordians were indeed affected by artificial stigmas.

(If Rean noticed that he was being eyed with intense suspicion and curiosity, he ignored it.)

Barkhorn then proceeded to erase all the artificial stigmas on the settlers, mentioning something about how these were much weaker than the stigma that an acquaintance of his had to deal with. Each time he broke the mind control on a person, that person immediately closed their eyes and actually acted like they were sleeping. 

To pacify Gaius’ concerns, Barkhorn said that these artificial stigmas likely place a heavy strain on one’s mind, so it was not unexpected to see them not immediately regain consciousness. If they woke up the next morning, then all would be okay. For the next twenty minutes, the two students followed the priest and elaborated more about the powerful monster that appeared out of nowhere. 

He did not let his thoughts about that situation show on his face. 

Once all the settlers were successfully unhypnotized, Zechs Vander and a bunch of tanks finally arrived only to find nothing. Father Barkhorn proved to be extremely capable with dodging questions and answering believable half-truths so that the military wouldn’t know the whole truth behind the defeat of the monster.

Father Barkhorn did, however, allow Lieutenant General Zechs to listen to how he believed the monster was summoned by an artifact and that everything that happened in the settlement was likely caused by humans. The conversation then led to the topic of stigmas, which also led to Rean and Prince Cedric (who had returned when Zechs dismissed the tanks) being questioned in a private tent.

“Oh, Olivert told me about it from a story!” The prince seemed to have regained his original vigor, and seemed to stare at Rean and Gaius with ten times more admiration than before. Kurt shared the same attitude, but he was more subtle about showing it. 

“A drunkard told me about it, going extremely in depth about a princess and one of her companions that had an artificial stigma” Technically Lechter did mockingly sip alcohol when they were having those meetings, so he was technically being truthful. Truth being something he needed because he didn’t know if he could get away with lying in front of a Dominion.

“Hey, that sounds like most of the stories Olivert tells me!”

One-eyed Zechs stared at Rean curiously and maybe a little bit disbelievingly. “You believed a story from someone who was drunk?”

“It was hard to believe at first, but he went into so much detail and the events he listed lined up with what newspapers reported in Liberl at the time.”

Father Barkhorn was the next one to ask him a question. “Do you remember what that fellow looked like?”

Ah. “Well, the most prominent feature he had was that he had red hair.”

The lieutenant general leaned back, casually caressing one end of his mustache. “Oh, I suppose I do recall a red-haired guy among the Liberlian crew that Prince Olivert ventured with.”

Rean suppressed a sigh of relief upon seeing the two men look like they (mostly) accepted his answer or just decided to leave him be.

After that, Kurt accidentally spilled that the prince was almost stabbed by one of the hypnotized settlers. Unsurprisingly, Zechs promptly dragged Kurt and (the unwilling) Prince Cedric back to Zender Gate. 

That left Rean in the tent with Gaius and Father Barkhorn. His friend was clearly brimming with questions about the priest. 

“Rean,” Gaius finally said out loud after a long, stretched-out silence between the trio. “Sorry, but could you give us some privacy? I have a few things to ask Father Barkhorn.”

“It’s not a problem.” Rean was already making his way out of the exit. 

Stepping outside, he enjoyed the fresh breeze of air that gently brushed against his sweaty skin. There were still a few soldiers around the area, but that didn’t distract him from how the sun was nearly down, letting the darkness emphasize the brightness of the other stars in space. With all the hectic events that happened today, this beautiful scenery was just what he needed to wind down.

FLASH

Rean could hear the familiar sound of a camera clicking before a short flash of light reflected off the grass for a second. He whirled to his side, seeing Norton take a picture of the night sky.

An hour ago, Gaius had called the rest of Class VII to tell them that the people of Nord were okay now and that they could return. They said that they were fairly deep in the Ancient Quarry, so it would take a while to return.

Seeing how Norton was already here, Rean assumed that his classmates must’ve been able to arrive much earlier than anticipated. 

“Norton!” Waving, Rean casually approached the reporter. “Have you seen where the rest of Class VII went?”

He was greeted with a puzzled look. “Do I know you?” Norton asked, curiously scanning the other from head to toe. “I don’t recall meeting you.”

Rean awkwardly scratched his cheek. “Um, we met earlier today when you were with Al- Professor Lughman.” The reporter’s confusion only intensified, much to his concern. Up until now, Rean had still been feeling a little upset at how they left him at the settlement despite how he was glad he stayed. Now he could only feel the panic and worry for them crash down onto him in waves. “You also went with the rest of Class VII to take pictures of the Ancient Quarry..?”

“What are you talking about?” Now Norton looked concerned as he dug out a piece of paper with his name on it. “I just got here, you can check my train ticket.” It stated that Norton really did just arrive at Zender Gate half an hour ago. “This whole day, I’ve been riding a train, so I couldn’t have met with you or any of your classmates.”

Wait, so then… If the real Norton was right here, then who was the Norton traveling with Class VII?

Rean could feel a headache coming on, being reminded of the only man he knew who could pull off perfect disguises. Was Bleublanc actually messing with them again?

“Sorry! I must’ve gotten the wrong person,” he briefly bid the reporter goodbye just as renewed panic fueled him. He ran toward the entrance, already dialing a number on his ARCUS when he saw the figures who arrived. Alisa and Emma on one horse. Jusis and Millium on the other. All four of his classmates were here and seemingly exhausted. 

Relief.

Norton wasn’t there.

Less relief. 

“What happened?” Rean asked them when they reached the northern gate entrance. He noticed how there were scratches and dirt all over them. “Are you all okay?”

“We’re all relatively okay,” Alisa managed to smile at him before her facial expression suddenly morphed into a scowl. “But if I get my hands on that jerk, things aren’t going to look pretty!”

“Jerk?” During the conversation, he started to guide them deeper into the settlement, toward the tent Gaius specifically prepared for Class VII.  “Who are you talking about?”

“The reporter from the Imperial Chronicle,” Jusis droned on, eyes drooping and wishing he was in a bed right now. “The moment our call ended with Gaius, Norton somehow caused a cave-in by bumping into a wall. No one was hurt, but we were stuck inside while he was outside. We asked him to get help, but he just told us ‘good luck’ and ran off.”

Millium piped up, leaping off her and Jusis’ horse once they arrived at their tent. “And after the cave-in, our ARCUS’ lost reception!” 

“And then monsters appeared and attacked us, but we defeated them and found another exit to the Ancient Quarry.” Emma’s voice was more quiet than usual, and Rean would’ve chalked it up to exhaustion if not for the fact that all her muscles were tense. Looking closely, her eyes didn’t seem entirely focused on the present.

“Emma?” Alisa noticed how the other girl’s grip around her waist tightened when they were supposed to be dismounting their horses. “Seriously, is something bothering you? You’ve been acting a little strange since we left the ruins.”

She weakly shook her head and let go of her before she slid off the horse. “No, it’s just my imagination…”

Rean wouldn’t doubt the witch’s instincts if she thought she noticed something strange, but he wouldn’t push her. “Well,” he said, gazing back at the settlement. “I guess now would be a good time to tell you all that a guy who looks exactly like Norton is currently in the settlement and he claims that he just arrived at the Nord Highlands half an hour ago. His name also happens to be Norton and he’s carrying around a camera, flashing it at everything.”

“What..?” 

“A doppleganger?” Jusis scoffed, sounding more annoyed than concerned. At the same time, he opened the flap of the tent and entered, greeted by the sight of a spacious room with five well-made beds. “Please do not tell me that Phantom Thief B is messing with us again.”

“Ooh! I wouldn’t mind playing one of his games!” 

“Wouldn’t we have received a letter from him though?” Alisa pondered, following after them. 

That… Was a good point. Rean completely forgot about that only because Bleublanc attacked him last time without any warning.

Jusis let out a long sigh, taking a seat at the edge of one of the beds. “Does anyone know any other person who can make flawless disguises? And how do we know the Norton in the settlement right now isn’t a fake?”

Oh. Rean probably shouldn’t have assumed that the Norton who just arrived at the settlement was normal. He should probably check, but he had no idea how to verify the man’s identity.

“I seriously doubt a real reporter would just leave a bunch of students stuck in some ruins because of a cave-in he caused. It’d be bad for his reputation,” Alisa reasoned. “And the news agency would probably kick him out if they found out.”

“Maybe…” Emma hesitantly spoke up, eyes still showing doubt . Her classmates looked at her in confusion and in concern before she continued. “Maybe it wasn’t my imagination. By the time the stone and soil were collapsing down on us, I thought I could sense magic being used.”

“What?” Millium had flopped onto one of the beds but her head shot up at the mention of magic. “Are you saying possibly-fake-Norton’s a witch?!”

“Witches, if skilled enough, can alter perceptions of reality. They could make themselves look like anyone they can imagine with magic.”

So… The only two options were either Bleublanc messing with them or a random witch messing with them. Neither sounded very appealing, especially when Emma mentioned earlier that a witch could’ve been the cause of the ghost in their dorms the other day. 

“Wouldn’t you have noticed they were using magic?” Rean looked at her and noticed how her shoulders were slumped. A sad frown marred her face as her downcast eyes made her appear like she was deep in unpleasant thoughts.

She looked so… forlorn.

“If they’re really skilled, they could fool an amateur witch like me, plus…”

Emma closed her eyes, taking a deep, frustrating breath.

“Whoever it was smelled like lavender.”

Notes:

Sorry-not-sorry for the million Sky references. I couldn't help it, hehe.

ANYWAY:

Because there isn't much known about Barkhorn's personality other than that he has a quirky sense of humor from a CSII quest, I kinda just decided to let him act like a jolly old man (the fact that he reminded me of Santa also influenced my decision lol). If more of his character gets mentioned in future games and he apparently acted completely differently… well, I tried my best XD

I made Barkhorn’s S-Craft, "Roaring Heavens" basically CSIII Gaius' S-Craft, "Howling Heavens" with his own personal touch (I’m not creative lol). I used "Roaring" instead because I'm sure Gaius wouldn't completely steal the idea + Barkhorn is known as the Roaring Lion.

Well, the next chapter is already out so unless you want to take a break (cause too many words and little time) or you want to leave a comment, go on ahead. If not, take a break and pace yourself. Hope you enjoyed and take care!

To be continued in "Chapter 16: The Sound of Silence"
Where silence actually does have a sound and it may not be nice.

Chapter 16: The Sound of Silence

Notes:

DOUBLE CHAPTER UPLOAD! This means I uploaded chapter 15 and 16 at the same time so make sure you've read chapter 15 before this one! Why? Uh, just read the previous chapter's beginning note.

The lino flowers were in bloom, all fluttering down from the trees and to the ground in a gentle blizzard of petals. In Trista, such a sight could only be experienced in the spring. 

This was clearly a dream, Rean being lucid enough to remember he was supposed to be at Nord and that it was summer. He definitely remembered the overwhelming confusion he felt about how Emma implied there was a connection between witches and the scent of lavender. Like, couldn’t anyone buy lavender-scented perfume?

Unfortunately, Emma didn’t elaborate any further, saying that she wanted to go outside for some fresh air. The rest of the class also decided to go outside and observe Norton to see if he did anything suspicious. 

(All he did was take a bunch of pictures before he left toward Zender Gate.)

Afterwards, Gaius returned after his long talk with Father Barkhorn and made dinner for everyone. Emma returned shortly after that, more calm than before, and the whole class began to eat together. When they finished, they all went to bed in Class VII’s tent, except for Gaius who said he wanted to keep an eye on his family. 

And now Rean was here. In a dream.

Though it was strange, rarely had he ever had dreams as pretty as this. Either his mind and body would be too exhausted to produce any dreams, or his dreams would consist of unpleasant memories.

To experience something so not unpleasant got him curious but also concerned. There was no way he would be allowed to have a nice dream… right? Fear of the unknown overwhelmed his curiosity and he ended up pinching his left wrist.

He winced from the slight stinging sensation, but none of his surroundings changed. Blood was eventually drawn when he pinched harder; nothing still changed. He frowned, eyebrows knitting in growing anxiety as he realized he might either be trapped in this dream or that this was actually reality and a major part of his memory was missing. 

He walked around for minutes, barging into every shop, all the dorms, and the train station. There was no one present. Not even the trains were running.

This had to be a dream, then. 

He walked around more, eventually approaching the front entrance. Small drops of water dripped against his uniform before rain started to pour heavily down. Before he could get entirely soaked, he took shelter into the school where he noticed that no one was around either. The whole building was quiet, the only sound that filled the air were the harsh splats of rain against the exterior of the building.

He was all alone. The feeling bothered him a little.

With steady steps, he walked up the stairs and eventually reached Class VII’s room. He turned the knob and opened the door, being greeted with the sights of—

THUMP

Still bodies. Lain across the tables. Slumped against the floor. Covered in blood.

Rean surprised even himself with how calm he was. With slow, light footsteps, he approached each body and counted.

One. A blonde girl. Two. An orange-haired boy. Three. A bespectacled guy. Four. A bespectacled girl. Five. A blonde guy. Six. A blue-haired girl. Seven. A tan-skinned guy. Eight. A silver-haired girl. Nine. A turquoise-haired girl.

It was to his frustration that he couldn't recall their names or the significance of there being nine people, but that feeling faded fast as his attention was grabbed by the sudden weight at his side.

His tachi. Unsheathed and bloody. The scabbard was missing.

He held the blade in two hands, flicking his eyes between the object and the slash marks on the bodies.

...Did he kill them?

His gaze was suddenly drawn to the windows. Crimson light filtered through the glass but he could still see his reflection.

Dark splats of red matted his otherwise ashen hair. Gleaming gold eyes stared back at him. Clothes were tattered and wounds were littered throughout his own body. He looked like a feral beast, the only thing out of place in the image was his confused expression.

So he killed these people.

What now?

 

THUMP

 

Gleaming red eyes snapped open, hand clutching his chest as he gasped for air. The sounds of his heavy breathing filled the otherwise silent room. His lungs struggled for what seemed to be an eternity, and during the entire time, he wished he could forget about breathing and focus on what was really important..!

One. Two. Three. Four. Alisa, Emma, Jusis, and Millium were all sleeping in this tent, all safe and sound. His other classmates were missing, but that didn’t set off any alarm bells once he grasped his recent memories. He grit his teeth, waiting until his lungs and heart finally calmed down, not acknowledging how quiet tears dripped onto his chest.

Goddess, rarely even his worst dreams caused him to cry anymore. This nightmare, however, was the first time his own messed up brain conjured up something so not true. Or maybe it was somewhat true? He always feared his own power and what it could do. Was that what he was capable of? 

To kill and forget the people he cared about? He knew this curse could override love, but could it also override duty? Even when he wasn’t himself, he never went against Dad’s orders. He thought Class VII was safe from him because ensuring their growth and safety was part of his mission, but…

No. He shook his head, telling himself that everything was fine and that he shouldn't dictate his decisions because of one abnormal dream. It was already a struggle to live with his own thoughts. To also be influenced by fake realities would only destroy him further. He couldn’t afford that.

Wincing from the stinging in his eyes, he glanced around the room, noting how the faint blue light of dawn peeked through the flaps of the tent. Everyone else was still sleeping peacefully, undisturbed by his abrupt awakening.

With another sigh, he quietly slipped out of bed, grabbed his sword, and headed out of the tent. If he couldn't sleep, he might as well get some training done.

"Rean…"

Just before he exited, he heard Millium softly call out his name. He looked back at her, seeing how her eyes were still closed and not aware that he was standing at the entrance. Eventually, she mumbled, “Can you give me some meat..?” and she snored away.

Chuckling under his breath, feeling a little more relieved after that nightmare, he left and walked past the southern gate of the settlement. Eventually, he arrived at the open area full of prowling monsters and he let his sword dance.

Thirty minutes passed, full of repetitive, forgetful swings of his blood-stained sword and a long trail of sepith that surprised even himself. Much to his concern, his tiredness faded away, replaced by energy that only seemed to build up and compel him to keep slashing and killing, reminding himself of that dream— 

He pinched himself before that thought could go anywhere and couldn’t help but notice that his thoughts were trailing toward violence more often than usual, like how the reactions of his heart seemed to be more frequent now. Was this a sign..?

Before he shifted his focus to pocketing all the sepith on the ground, he saw that he’d apparently gained an audience and they were now approaching him. 

“What are you two doing here?” he called out to them, knowing that they were supposed to be at Zender Gate. He was befuddled to receive an enthusiastic wave from the prince who was riding with Kurt on a horse. 

“We left because we wanted to see how the Nord tribe was doing!” After the events from yesterday, Prince Cedric seemed much more revitalized. “Then we saw you and, well, here we are!” 

Rean was pretty sure they didn’t gain any permission or else they would’ve had more bodyguards. Especially after what happened yesterday. Prince Olivert truly was a terrible influence.

Sheathing his sword, he waited for the two boys to stop in front of him. Upon seeing them dismount the horse and stare at him with sparkles in their eyes, like they were absolutely impressed by his performance, Rean grew even more befuddled.

“Was that the Eight Leaves, One Blade style?” asked Kurt, eyes glued to the tachi that rested by his side. 

“Yes, but I’m only a drop-out student who could barely even pass beginner level,” he immediately responded in hopes the other would lose interest and not invite him to a duel that was so common from every swordsman he met. 

Prince Cedric leaned forward, looking closer at his sword with great interest. “Wow, but you beat up all those monsters without a sweat! The Eight Leaves, One Blade School must be harsh if someone with your skill became a dropout.” 

To both his and the prince’s surprise, Kurt challenged him with a disbelieving look in his eyes. “I caught glimpses of how you moved in that battle with the monster. Seeing your performance yesterday and now, you have to be at an intermediate level, just like your friend who wields the spear.”

Prince Cedric tugged at his friend’s sleeve in confusion. “Does it matter what his rank is? It doesn’t change that he's pretty strong.”

“He doesn’t believe it,” Kurt muttered before locking his determined gaze with Rean. “I’ve poured my entire mind and body into my swordsmanship and yet I’m still struggling to get better. Where does my pride as a swordsman stand when I recognize a stronger swordsman who can beat me, but he thinks himself weak?” His teeth gritted, looking away to hide a disappointed look in his eyes. “Does that mean I’m weaker than weak?”

Oh. Rean was reminded of Laura’s past obsession with sparing with him and her personal issue with Fie. Honor and pride were heavily entwined with the art of swordsmanship; to lose meant to accept the other’s strength. However, to lose against someone who was considered a loser would bring great shame and would heavily damage one’s pride.

“I’m weak in a sense different from what you’re thinking—”

“I challenge you to an impromptu duel.” 

Rean unconsciously made a step back, pinned by the determined gaze of the young Vander. He didn’t expect the normally reserved boy to suddenly be so impulsive. “Huh?”

“If you insist you’re weak, then I want to measure the difference of 'weakness' between us,” Kurt said before his eyes flicked over to the prince. “I want to see how far I still have to go before I’m worthy of the Vander name and being Prince Cedric’s bodyguard.” He looked back at Rean, though his resolute tone held a bit of uncertainty now. “Also... I just have this feeling that fighting you will… Actually, nevermind.”

Prince Cedric beamed at his friend. “What are you talking about? You’re already the best-bodyguard-best-friend! All you need to do is become the most powerful swordsman whenever I become the most powerful emperor!”

“Since when have you become fixated with power?” 

“Since yesterday! If we had more power, we’d be able to protect ourselves and everyone, right?” Prince Cedric laughed. “I think this journey of self-discovery is already working like a charm!”

Turning back to face Rean, the two boys expectantly waited for an answer. As with every other invitation to a duel (except the inevitable one with Patrick he couldn’t escape), Rean would’ve normally said no. He should’ve said no since he was still unnerved by that dream. However, he could see speckles of self-doubt and insecurity swirl around in Kurt’s eyes, reminding him of himself a bit. 

At the very least, this duel could be used to prevent Kurt from repeating Rean’s mistake of drowning himself in fears and doubts and never actually progressing.

“I…” He could already feel his blood pumping. “I accept.”

Promptly, Prince Cedric gave space to the two swordsmen as they created some distance between each other.

Raising his twin swords and pointing them at his opponent, Kurt called out, “My name is Kurt Vander, intermediate level of the Vander school of swordsmanship.”

Rean’s tongue was heavy, having difficulty mustering up the strength to say his own name. “Rean Schwarzer.” His hand slowly withdrew his tachi from the sheathe. “Beginner level of the Eight Leaves, One Blade school.”

Nothing moved between them, not any breaths, any sounds, or even any shift in the air. All was still, waiting for a certain signal—

“Begin!” Prince Cedric cheered and pumped his fist in the air.

Kurt was the first to move, immediately charging headfirst with two quick, consecutive strikes with his blades. Rean raised his own sword, the cold clangs of metal sliding against metal ringing through the air as he parried off both the slashes and countered with his own. 

A few strands of light blue hair were carried away by the wind but Kurt managed to leap back before he could sustain any real damage. He let out a short breath, letting the increased distance between them serve as time for him to think of how to deal with this opponent.

Just from this first clash, Rean could already tell Kurt was fast, had good instincts, and was relatively strong for someone his age. No wonder he already achieved intermediate level at 15 years.

However, he didn’t seem to have much experience fighting swordsmen of different types. The Vander school was mostly known for its technique with the greatsword, and users of that weapon tended to be on the slow side unless they were monsters like Victor S. Arseid or Aurelia Le Guin. Kurt must’ve been used to fighting opponents holding back on him or were genuinely slower and less mobile than him.

Fast fighters like Kurt were typically used to being the ‘chaser,’ usually initiating the close combat and creating distance to avoid any attacks. This was why he was caught off guard when he was suddenly being the one ‘chased’, Rean closing the distance between them in a blink of an eye, giving him no room to breathe as the path of his tachi stopped in the space just beside Kurt’s neck.

The boy grimaced, dropping his swords to the ground as he felt a slight sting on the side of his neck. “My loss. I was no match.” A frown deeply marred his face. “I may not be an experienced fighter, but I do have good reflexes. Seeing how I could barely process or react to your movement, I don’t understand why you would be considered a failure.”

Rean sighed, withdrawing his sword and sliding it back into its scabbard. “I didn't do anything special, I was only faster than you. Though in the Eight Leaves, One Blade School— No, actually this is true for all kinds of sword practitioners. A true swordsman would know three things.” He paused, making sure he had the other’s full attention. “First, they must know what it is they are using their sword against...” 

He knelt down to grab both of Kurt’s swords. The metal was cool, and the maintenance done on it was full of genuine care. The shape, appearance, and feeling of the two blades were befitting of the school known for protecting the royal family; they were befitting of the honest, determined boy in front of him. 

“Second, the reason why they are swinging their sword…” 

He took Kurt’s hands and firmly placed the hilts in his palms. 

“And lastly, for whom they are using their for.” 

He momentarily nodded his head to Prince Cedric. In turn, Kurt briefly smiled in his charge’s direction before sheathing his swords.

“To know these three truths about yourself will keep you from getting lost,” Rean continued talking, recalling the words Master Ka-Fai once told him. “To keep these truths close to your heart will ensure you will always grow stronger.”

Kurt furrowed his brows, looking at Rean with sincere confusion. “Does that mean you don’t know your own three truths?”

No. Not really.

Ideally, his answers would be to use his sword against his enemies, and to swing his sword to protect the ones he cared about. It was like that yesterday, raising his sword against that cryptid to make sure Gaius didn’t die. However, he couldn’t say the same answers were what guided his sword to slay all these monsters this morning. Initially, he killed all these monsters in the name of training himself.

But then he forgot and he just got lost in the moment.

And eventually killed everything in sight for the heck of it, just like in the dream.

“I often don’t know the answers to these questions when I fight…” he sighed. “That’s why I consider myself to be a failure as a swordsman.”

“So… When you find those answers, will you be a true swordsman by then?”

Kurt’s expression reflected a look of sympathy that it actually caught Rean off guard. He knew the answer was ‘no’ because he’d never find the answer as long as his mind was conflicted. The chances of him truly clearing his mind was slim. “Um…” However, not wanting to spur any further argument with the boy, he said, “Maybe.”

“Good.”

“Good?”

Prince Cedric finally reached Kurt’s side, a curious look on his face. “Good? What’s going on? Are you two having some kind of cool swordsman talk?”

Kurt only acknowledged Prince Cedric’s question with a brief nod before he explained, “Rean, you have good advice. At least, I feel a little more inspired than before we dueled. If I do lose my way, expect that I’ll come to you for more advice.”

What. “It was just something my master taught me a long time ago. Surely you know someone else who’d be a better source for advice?”

“I can ask them. But it won’t stop me from asking you. Besides… I think you would be a wonderful mentor one day.”

What. Was Rean still dreaming? No, it couldn’t be, not even his nightmares were as crazy as Kurt’s suggestion. “Mentor? How did you get that from the little interaction we had?!” Rean incredulously exclaimed. Any poor student who fell under his care would be led to their dooms!

Kurt shrugged. “Just a feeling.”

What was it with people who had greater affinities with the wind element? They seemed to have spontaneous feelings about anything and everything. 

Rean sighed to force himself to recover from his shock, making a brief glance at the rising sun and forcing himself to forget any possibility of him becoming some sort of mentor. “Anyway, we should tell the Lieutenant General where you guys are before anyone worries about you.”

“Oh, but I left a note at where I was resting. It details where I decided to go” Prince Cedric explained, pouting to try to convince Rean to let them journey straight to the settlement. “Let’s just goooo.”

This kid was becoming a lot more like his older brother with every passing day. 

“No. You’re the crown prince and you were almost stabbed yesterday.” Rean crossed his arms, defiantly staring back at the stubborn kid. He did not want to see an entire military base go into a frenzied panic because they weren’t sure of the prince’s safety.

“It was just hypnotism! It’s not like anyone’s hypnotized anymore!” The naive prince huffed before he grabbed Kurt’s wrist and mounted their horse. “Well, unless you’re faster than a horse, you can’t stop us. Kurt, let’s go!”

Kurt bowed slightly toward Rean’s direction, full of apology. “I’m sorry, but there’s no stopping His Highness when he gets like this.”

“Kurt, you might want to take a page out of your big brother’s book and not spoil the prince,” Rean exasperatedly called out just as the horse moved forward at full speed. 

This was truly a stubborn family. He wondered if they got it from Dad back when he was Dreichels.

---

He made sure the two boys safely made it back to the Nord Settlement before he made a quick stop at Zender Gate to inform the soldiers that Prince Cedric and Kurt were safe. He then made the long trek back to the settlement, intending to head to the guest tent provided to Class VII before he suddenly heard voices. 

"Are you sure about this?"

"I’m sure. I thought about it all night… I realize that there are more dangers to my home than just the conflict between Erebonia and Calvard. For a while now, I've been sensing ominous, unnatural winds all across the country and I feel like it's related to more things I don't understand. Like magic. Or those artificial stigmas."

Rean slowed his steps, hearing a low rumble of voices come from the tent that was provided to Father Barkhorn. 

"I want to understand these things."

“Still, to say you want to be my disciple, Gaius… If you choose this path, you won’t see your family often for a while. Plus, you’ll have to drop out of school.”

“Actually, I was hoping to continue my studies. Apologies if I’m wrong, but isn’t Rosine in your line of work? She’s also a student. Same for Instructor Thomas.”

“In their cases, they’re not beginners. Though… You’ve even noticed their true natures?”

“The winds around them hold a certain divinity to them. The winds don’t lie, it’s different from other priests but similar to yours.”

“And here I thought I could hide my presence well. Bahahaha! You youngsters never cease to amuse me!” A pause. “Regardless, don’t you think you’re getting a little greedy? Doing an apprenticeship under the Church and continuing Class VII’s rigorous coursework seems a bit much, don’t you think?”

“I’ll find a way. If you’ll let me.”

“Ha! You have determination and a good pair of instincts! It’d be a shame to not take you in and see where you’ll go. I’ll think about it.”

Rean was already walking away, understanding that he really shouldn’t have been eavesdropping on such a private conversation. Still, he couldn’t lie that the idea of Gaius wanting to join the Gralsritter was interesting. If he was able to put his all into training with the Gralsritter, he could probably become a squire within a year or two.

That would be an interesting future. As he walked to Class VII's tent, he wondered what paths the rest of the class would take after they graduated. Stuck in his thoughts, he moved his hand toward the flap and— 

SMACK

Got rammed in the chest by a human being and fell back to the ground.

“Huh? You’re not Bro!” Exclaimed the little girl whose face was buried in his chest. Radiant blue eyes, a stark contrast to the dull look that was on her yesterday, scanned his face then paused to look at his red uniform. “Oh, but you’re Bro’s classmate! Hey, do you know where Bro is?”

Rean tried to ignore how strange it was to have such a tiny, fragile human being cling onto him. He felt like he could just breathe wrong and she would get hurt. “Gaius is with Father Barkhorn,” he eventually said. 

“Lily, manners,” a fond breath escaped the blue-coated man standing a few arge behind her. This man, sporting one scar that flatly stretched from cheek to cheek nodded to him in greeting. “Another one of Gaius’ friends? It’s a pleasure to properly meet you. I’m Lacan Worzel, Gaius’ father.”

“I’m Rean,” he politely greeted back as he helped Gaius’ little sister get off him and stand up. “The pleasure’s mi—”

“Rean!” 

The air was kicked out of his lungs again as another human being slammed herself into his back, face-planting him to the ground. 

“There you are!” Millium chirped, voice muffled from burying her face in his back. “I was wondering where you were!”

“And we were wondering where you ran off too, Millium. Seems like quite a few of our classmates have a habit of disappearing without saying anything,” droned a voice from within the tent. They looked up to see Jusis, followed by Alisa and Emma, exit the tent. 

Millium quickly got off Rean and latched herself to the blonde noble, who then seemed to regret his decision to make his presence known. “Aww, I knew you cared, Jusis!”

“Not particularly.”

“Would you prefer it if I gave you my special wake-up-surprise next time?”

“No.”

Gaius’ father chuckled at the scene, moving his hand to hold Lily’s. “You’re quite a lively bunch, huh?”

“That’s one way of putting it,” Alisa sighed before she looked at Rean and her lips drew up into a smile, about to say good morning. But then her eyes paused at the sight of his hand, brows knitting. “You’re hurt!”

She grabbed his hand, holding it up and rolling up the sleeve to reveal a wound on his wrist. It was small, but only deep enough for blood to have made a faint trail of red toward his knuckles.

There was a bruise surrounding the break in his skin, at the same place where he had pinched himself in the nightmare.

“I can heal it,” Emma volunteered as she took a step closer to him, but Alisa pulled his hand away from her. They both stared at the girl in confusion, noting how a faint tinge of red was dusting her cheeks.

“Uh, you can conserve your energy. Basic first aid should be enough.” Alisa's other hand fumbled around in the bag that was hanging by her side. Eventually her fingers plucked out a band aid. “I- I can take care of it!”

A look of realization dawned on Emma as her own hand jolted to retrieve a notebook from her bag. Pen clicking in her fingers, she rapidly wrote some notes, but she skillfully hid the words from the eyes of her onlookers. With this level of speed and dexterity she normally lacked, she definitely seemed to recover from whatever stress she was under last night.

 “Oh, that’s a good idea, Alisa,” she muttered. “I think Dorothy will appreciate it for the next lit club meeting.”

“E- Emma!” Alisa stammered; the blush on her face became more prominent.

“Oh right,” Emma turned to face Lacan with a curious spark in her eyes. “Last night, I noticed that the stars were really clear and pretty. Is the night sky always like that?”

The man nodded, a smirk pulling at his lips. “Yes. I hear it’s one of the big reasons tourists visit.”

“Ah… That would be a perfect moment to...” Her voice trailed off as she scribbled some more notes. Eventually, she shut her book. Then her gaze locked with Alisa’s, somehow silently communicating with each other.

“N- No, I’m not doing that.” The band aid was securely placed over Rean’s wound before Alisa let go of him and stared at their friend in shock, flusteredly waving her arms as if to protect her from Emma’s knowing stare. “Not this early!”

“But think about the mood levels! Nord has ambient noise, ambient light, beautiful surrounding environment, a lot of space to get away from curious onlookers—”

“STOP! StopI Not- Not here!” Alisa’s face was now as red as a tomato as she dragged the witch into the tent. Rapid, indecipherable flustered whispering or amused giggling could be heard through the fabrics. 

Rean stared at his band aid and then at the tent, not really understanding the reasoning for Alisa’s embarrassment. “What was that about?”

Millium grinned and raised her hand. “I get it!”

“Rean,” Jusis’ utterly unimpressed deadpan grabbed his attention. He turned to see the noble looking at him like he was a hopeless cause. “I don’t even know what to say about how you could take nothing away from that conversation, nor can I think of anything to say about how your level of density is higher than Millium’s. It might be better to just say nothing.”

“Gee, Jusis, glad to see you have my back,” he sighed.

Gaius’ father patted his back like everything was fine. “Ah, to be young again. Reminds me of a couple I met about 20 years ago. The guy was so dense that he didn’t even know he was on a date!” The man then started to walk away, leading his daughter—who seemed to not understand the conversation as much as Rean—toward his family’s tent. “Anyway, Class VII. When you regroup with my son and the rest of your classmates, I want you all to visit every tent. Everyone has woken up from the hypnotism, so they all want to thank you for your efforts.” 

“Some of us didn’t do that much,” Jusis shrugged.

“Still, everyone would like to meet Gaius’ new friends,” Lacan waved at them and Lily copied his movement with glee. “Come to the Worzel tent last, as I will also be giving you your long awaited field study requests. Alright?”

“Alright!”

---

Seeing and hearing the Gaius’ people go outside, work on their daily activities, and thank them for their efforts yesterday left a warm feeling in his chest. It was quite a stark contrast to how lifeless they had been yesterday, and although they admitted being concerned that this curse could happen again, they felt safe with Father Barkhorn staying around for a bit. It also helped that Lieutenant General Zechs announced that he would bring up the issue with the higher ups, showing that the tribe wouldn’t be facing the cause of the problem alone. 

Rean only wondered if this was according to Alberich’s plans. Clearly, he just set a target on his back. He might have Dad on his side for now, but the gnome leader would surely have trouble dealing with an angry church on his tail, right?

The biggest surprise to their formal tour around the settlement, however, was when they finally arrived at the Worzel tent and—

“I’m so sorry, Prince Cedric!”

Thoma was kneeling on the floor, forehead resting on hands flat against the floor. It was almost a perfect imitation of the dogeza, a type of etiquette that was usually seen in the eastern parts of Zemuria. 

The prince was as shocked as everyone else to see such a gesture, and he quickly grew embarrassed. “It’s fine! You can lift your head- your entire body for that matter!”

“But I insulted you and your brother, called you a liar even though you were right, and even tried to kill you!” His head stubbornly refused to leave the ground. 

“You were hypnotized—”

The extremely guilty boy finally looked up, only to reveal a deep frown and watery eyes like he was on the verge of crying. “But some of those thoughts were mine! I did think you were annoying!”

“Er—”

“Please, tell me what I can do to make it up to you!” His head was touching the floor again. “Though I probably can’t offer much that a prince will find value in…”

“I think an apology to this level is satisfactory,” Prince Cedric sweat-dropped, but he did take the next few minutes to sincerely think of something. Eventually, a metaphorical light bulb popped up above his head as he said, “Oh, I thought of something!”

“What is it?”

“Call me Cedrock!”

There was a moment of silence, only broken when Kurt sighed and shook his head.

Thoma eventually stood up and smiled. “O- Okay, Cedrock.”

The prince beamed brightly and his grin was almost as bright as the sun. In triumph, he pumped his fist. “Yes! That’s two people!” His eyes eagerly darted to meet Kurt’s. “Come on Kurt, say it and then I’ll have three people who recognize Cedrock’s existence!”

“I’m sorry Your Highness, but I have to draw the line somewhere.”

“Come onnnnnnnn!” He was practically clinging onto his blue-haired friend, not relenting until the other conceded.

Gaius finally chose that moment to announce their presence to all the occupants of the tent. “Pardon us.”

“Bro! You’re here!” His little sisters, Sheeda and Lily, practically threw themselves at their big brother, and he effortlessly caught Lily in his arms while Sheeda clung to his legs. Thoma stood at a distance, greeting him with a smile while Lacan and Gaius’ mother, Fatma, both waved at them. 

“Welcome back, Gaius. And it’s nice to see your classmates too.”

“It’s good to be back,” he chuckled, trying to manage with the two sisters clinging to him. 

Rean looked at the sight with a sense of wonder. It was so strange to see a family so big and whole and happy. It wasn’t often that he met families all together, and in the rare times he did see an entire family look so happy, he appreciated how such peace could exist. The world could seem a lot less bleak when witnessing stuff like this.

(It shouldn’t have been surprising that Alberich tried to ruin it, even if for just a day.)

“Ah! Your sisters are so adorable! I just want to pinch their cheeks!” Alisa squealed.

Jusis side-glanced at her, his neutral expression not breaking. “You sound like a couple of the old women I know at Bareahard. From personal experience, I can say no level of ‘cuteness’ warrants a torture as cruel as having one’s cheeks pinched.”

“Are you comparing me to an old woman?!”

“Indeed I am.”

“Ooh!” Millium raised her hand. “You can pinch my cheeks, Alisa! I’m told by the local old lady that they’re very pinchable!”

Alisa sighed, holding her forehead with her hand. “You know what? Nevermind…”

“Are you saying Gaius’ sisters are more adorable than me and that’s why you want to pinch their cheek but not mine?!” Millium puffed her cheeks, just to exaggerate how ‘pinchable’ they were. “Unfair! I’m telling Jusis!”

“I don’t care.” 

“Ah, fine!” Alisa threw her hands down, marching up to the girl and pinched her cheeks as hard as she could without actually inducing any harm.

“AH! Nevermind! That’s so uncomfortable, I regret everything!” Millium escaped from Alisa’s wrath and took refuge by clinging onto Emma. “Emma, heal me, I think she pinched too hard!”

“I did not!”

Lily giggled, peeking over Gaius’ shoulder in great amusement. “Bro, your friends are super funny! Can they stay?”

Jusis huffed at that. “We’re not a source of entertainment.”

Lily stared at him widely before a grin formed on her face. Climbing over Gaius’ shoulder, she suddenly leaped and clung onto Jusis’ chest by holding his shoulders. “Fun!” she chirped.

“Gah! I cannot fathom how you came to that conclusion. Someone please help me get her off of me before something breaks.”

Rean had no sympathy for him, only because Jusis practically called him an idiot earlier this morning. He decided to help him in the best way he could, which was to give him a taste of his own medicine. “I seem to recall how an old couple back at Bareahard mentioned that you were good with kids, so I think you’re okay.”

Jusis’ cold, deadly glare may have sent chills up his spine, but it was worth seeing their classmates eventually nod in agreement.

“Oh,” Emma giggled, glancing between Millium and Jusis. “Now everything makes sense.”

Millium looked at her in confusion. “Huh? What makes sense? I don’t get it.”

It was safe to say that no one, not even Gaius’ family, was going to remove Lily from her position.

Jusis sighed, hopelessly accepting his fate. “I despise all of you.”

---

After proper introductions, most of the kids (a.k.a. Prince Cedric, Kurt, Thoma Sheeda, and Lily) went out to play hide and seek until whenever an exasperated soldier would come to pick the prince up and teach him measures of self-preservation. Everyone else stayed in the Worzel tent for Lacan to tell them what their field study responsibility consisted of. 

The list was long, because it combined the tasks from yesterday and today. Naturally, not all of the items were required, but the whole class agreed to do them all for the experience.

“Now then, Class VII, before I let you all go, I want to inform you of what happened before the curse started.” He let out a long sigh. “Well, the only memory I have before waking up today was going to sleep two nights ago. It’s the same for the rest of our people except Thoma.”

Gaius leaned slightly forward. “What makes him different from the rest?”

His mother was the one who answered. “According to Thoma, he woke up in the middle of the night and decided to go on a small walk. At that very moment, he saw a sheep escape its pen and chased it down. When he returned with the sheep, everyone was already hypnotized, but he also saw a strange man clad in black.” 

Rean almost sighed, knowing exactly who that man was.

“He thinks the man’s eyes are red,” she continued. “But he isn’t sure because that’s when his memory becomes foggy. Before he tried to attack Prince Cedric, he kept hearing a voice that said, kill the foreigner, and it urged him to target whoever the nearest ‘foreigner’ was.”

“So it seems like Prince Cedric was targeted by chance alone.” Jusis muttered. “Also, it sounds like this whole bizarre incident was caused by a mere man?” 

“That’s a little hard to believe, even for me,” Emma admitted.

“We’re not saying anything is concrete. For all we know, that man could’ve been a small part of the cause,” Lacan reassured them. “We just want you to be wary in case you cross a man like that during your field study. It hasn’t been long, so he could still be here.”

Alisa nodded. “Okay. While the man could shed his black clothes easily, at least red eyes aren’t common.”

“Yeah,” Millium hit her her palm with her fist in understanding. “I can only list a handful of guys with red eyes. Like the Ashen Saint, Alisa, and—”

“I’m not a man, you know,” muttered the aforementioned red-eyed girl.

“Right! But you had to get those red eye genes from somewhere, like your dad or some long distance relatives.”

…Millium’s offhand speculation could be terrifyingly accurate sometimes. 

Noticing how Alisa tensed up and not wanting Millium to reach any bizarre conclusions, Rean said, “Alright. We’ll be on the lookout.”

“Good,” Gaius’ parents smiled at them. “Now then, you may go on your field study. Feel free to rest here and let the winds be with you.”

---

They cleared all sorts of quests like finding lost items, guiding lost sheep back to the settlement, teaching the Nordian kids about Erebonian history, finding out Thoma’s favorite color for Sharl, and fighting a big monster. To say they were all exhausted from going all over the place was an understatement. However, they still all agreed to do one last thing: FInd this mechanic to fix a certain machine on the settlement (despite how most of them wanted to take a nap).

That was how they ended up traversing the northern highlands (again) on horseback. Rean tried to stifle a yawn as he listened to the chatter of his classmates. 

“Ugh, it’s no wonder Instructor Sara gave us more people in our group,” Alisa let out a deep breath while tightening the grip on the horse’s reins. “This place is huge!”

“Is it bigger than Bryonia Island?” Gaius asked.

Jusis shifted his weight slightly on his horse, accommodating for how Millium seemed to fall asleep yet was still holding onto him tightly. “According to the map of Erebonia, I’d say so.”

"Yeah, Bryonia Island’s size is nothing compared to the Nord Highlands."

“You’ve been to Bryonia Island before?”

“Lived there for about a year.” 

So tired from the lack of sleep and the events from yesterday and today, Rean didn’t even realize he joined the conversation, giving answers that didn’t require much thought. The words that came out of his mouth were as noteworthy as stating his address. However, feeling the curious eyes of his friends stare at him, he recovered all alertness.

“You… lived there?”

And then he realized that living on Bryonia Island for 1/18th of his life was not a well known fact, nor was it something he was enthusiastic for the others to know. After all, that was the location where he lived with Lianne. Which meant he didn’t want to think about it, and some self-conscious part of him hoped there was no trace of him ever living there. 

“Yeah,” he said with a tone of finality, hinting that he didn’t want to elaborate on it.

Now he truly wondered how confused they were, trying to piece together how he lived with commoners, then lived on some random island for a whole year without any records of the Schwarzers going to that island, and then ended up in the care of the aforementioned nobles. Thinking about it, his life really was filled with so many changes. 

“You know…” Emma started up the conversation after the silence went on for too long. “I heard that a statue of one of the great knights is on that island. It’s kind of a coincidence how our class got sent to the two places where the husks of those great knights reside, don’t you think?”

“Perhaps it’s part of our field study?” Gaius mused, eyes glancing at the giant statue of a knight in the distance. “To dive deeper into history? From way beyond Dreichels' time?”

Jusis scoffed. “Aren’t the stories behind those knights blasphemy anyway?” One look at how Emma started to nervously fiddle with her hair made him roll his eyes. “You’ve gotta be kidding me.”

“Uh… You know how I’ve been trying to determine who the Awakener is?” 

“Yes, and you said the Awakener was supposed to ‘awaken’ something in the Old Schoolhouse, but you never explained what.”

Emma awkwardly laughed as she pointed at the great knight’s statue. “Yeah, about that… They’re supposed to awaken a knight like that. Though it’s supposed to be smaller, I think.”

“Really? Magical giant robots?” Alisa exclaimed. “How did you neglect to tell us that in the midst of all the bomb shells you dropped on us two months ago?!”

“Um…”

Emma went more into detail about Awakener’s and their Divine Knights. For the most part, Rean listened and checked to see if it aligned with his own information until… 

THUMP

There it was. He was expecting his heart to react ever since he caught a glimpse of that statue. The only reason it hurt a little more now was because looking at the statue came with the bittersweet nostalgia of his mom and her obsession for history.  

Goddess, he missed her so much; he missed those simple times. The feelings of longingness to the past were always within him but now they were exacerbated by seeing Gaius’ family. 

Tiredly, he shook his head, trying to keep the fond memories away. He kept telling himself that he needed to focus on the present and the future. 

“Hey! I think that’s Lake Lacrima!” Millium called out, now awake, and pointed toward the end of a small valley. 

Their horses eventually galloped through the valley until they reached the end of it, seeing the entirety of Lake Lacrima up close while also noticing that there was a log cabin placed right beside it.

“That’s where the mechanic lives,” Gaius said as he dismounted his horse. Everyone else followed, walking closer to the building until they could hear voices sounding from the inside. Rean could immediately sense two presences within the cabin. The familiarity of one of them made his heart drop.

Looking through the window, Millium pointed at the man with brown hair and grey eyes, “Oh, it’s Professor Lughman!” 

And the other person was— 

“Grandfather…” Alisa gasped under her breath, everyone staring between her and the old man in shock. Rean didn’t know the details of what happened to Gwyn Reinford other than that he suddenly disappeared one day. Judging by the sharp grimace on Alisa’s face and how her entire body was shaking like a volcano ready to erupt, he could assume that they weren’t on good terms at the moment.

Couple that with the fact that Black Alberich—technically her father —was here… This was not going to be a good family reunion. 

All of a sudden, she started to stiffly march towards the front door and placed a firm hand on the handle. A combination of fury and insecurity drove her hand to rip the door open.

“You foolish man!” the old man outright screamed, not noticing that he had visitors. It was now clearly obvious to Class VII that there was a hostile, suffocating air between the two men. “Just because you have lost your memories doesn’t mean you can pretend to have lost everything else!”

Alberich scoffed and crossed his arms, a habit that was so like Alisa. “On the contrary, Gwyn. I have been doing just that and I am doing just fine. I refuse to allow my actions to be dictated by some self-proclaimed father-in-law. Besides…” He turned his head to the entrance. “It seems you have other business to take care of.”

Gwyn whipped his head, jaw dropping when he noticed his granddaughter was here. 

The awkward tension that ensued was incredibly thick. Class VII could feel like they could suffocate just by standing in the same room as these people.

"Grandfather?" her voice was eventually released, sounding completely lost, bordering on the line of vulnerability. Rean swore Alberich smirked for a second.

"A- Alisa?" Her grandfather was caught so off guard he was speechless for another few seconds. "What are you doing here?!"

Hearing that, Alisa scowled at him. "Seriously? I haven't seen you in YEARS and that's your reaction?!"

"Sorry, I just wasn't expecting to see you—!"

"Yeah, that tends to happen when you run off the face of Zemuria with the intention of never being found," she huffed, refusing to show any sympathy or consideration.

The old man stuttered, failing any and every attempt to pacify the girl while the rest of Class VII awkwardly stayed where they stood, unsure if they should be listening to this conversation.

Alberich was almost forgotten until he let out the faintest of sighs. Ruby eyes snapped to him as Alisa pinned him with the coldest glare she could muster up.

"And you..!" Her voice was caught between a hiss and a scream, overwhelmed by conflicting, frustrating emotions.

"Yes?" Alberich's nonchalance surprised the other members of Class VII who only thought he was a benevolent, quirky professor. "I assume because you're his granddaughter that you think I'm your father? Your hostility to me yesterday makes more sense, yet still unreasonable."

"Unreasonable?!" She marched up to him, tense muscles ready to explode. She didn’t even notice how she was mirroring the way Alberich carried himself: Crossed arms, a slightly twitching left eyebrow, and a right foot slightly placed in front of the other. "I'm your daughter, whether you remember it or not— whether you like it or not! Of course I'm going to get frustrated when my own father refuses to try to remember me!"

"Alisa… It's no use, he's a lost cause." Gwyn reached his hand out to her but stopped when she only glowered at him.

"Stop. I'm still mad at you so I'm not going to listen to you!"

Alberich let out a deep chuckle, regaining everyone's attention. "You are my daughter? But you're so fiery tempered, volatile, and aggressive. I may not have my memories but I do know I have enough intelligence to raise a child to be more refined than whatever you turned out to be."

His words were said so nonchalantly but their cruel meaning shocked her to silence. She just stared back at him, having no idea what to say back to him. 

Wide-eyed, Emma raised a shaky hand to cover her mouth in horror. "What a terrible thing to say..!"

Jusis shook his head in sympathy. "It seems this world has no shortage of terrible fathers."

They all had the mind to just take Alisa away before the man could do more emotional damage, but Rean already found himself moving. He didn't know why Alberich's words sparked an angry flame within him, considering he'd been subjected to his insults before. He just knew that he was angry, that he hadn't felt such fury for someone else in a long time, and that he had no idea what to do with this emotion.

That was how he had no second thought when his fist soared through the air and crashed.

It was a weak punch, not strong enough to topple the guy to the floor. However, it was enough to send a message. What the message was, Rean didn't know, especially when he just realized that there would be consequences to decking Black Alberich in the face.

Oh crap.

To his credit, Alberich pretended the punch never happened despite how everyone else was openly staring at them like the universe was about to combust on the spot. Such impulse from him wasn’t something they were used to seeing. 

"Young lady," he said, with his gaze still locked on Alisa. "What do you think love is?" 

"Huh?!"

Alberich was probably the last person any of them expected to talk about love, just hearing the word come out from his mouth sounded like blasphemy.

"Respect. Loyalty. Affection. Connection . All given unconditionally because of love," he droned on like he was reading a boring textbook. "For such a powerful emotion that is not even held down by reason, you would think at least one of these characteristics would transcend memory."

He inspected her teary eyes, leaning forward and pinning her on the spot with just the cold, dead look in his eyes.

"But I don't feel anything for you, Alisa. Nor for your grandfather, nor for your mother. If I'm truly your father and yet I don't feel anything for you, maybe that means I never loved—"

SMACK

A red hand-shaped mark blossomed on the same spot where Rean had punched him. Alisa immediately turned away, holding her stinging hand. Then she took a deep breath screaming, “You’re the worst!”

She twisted, then her legs pushed her forward, past the rest of their classmates, through the door, and toward the horses.

"Alisa!" Rean chased after her with his classmates. Despite her obvious frustration, she was still considerate to wait for Emma to hop on her horse before she snapped the reins and their horse charged away, not looking back. 

Everyone else reached their horses, ready to depart when Alisa's grandfather yelled out to them. "Wait! Please, take me with you! I need to make things right with Alisa!"

Gaius nodded in understanding, moving his horse toward the Gwyn so he could sit behind him. Once he was secure and holding tightly onto Gaius’ shoulders, they were the next pair to leave on galloping the galloping steed.

 "Well, that's one way to bring the mechanic to the settlement," Jusis muttered before turning to look at Millium, who hadn't climbed into the horse yet. "What are you waiting for?"

“Coming!” With one big leap, the girl landed behind Jusis and wrapped her arms around his waist. Before the noble urged the horse to move, he glanced over at their remaining classmate, realizing Rean’s stead was chaotically thrashing about. 

“Shh, it’s okay. Nothing’s going to hurt you,” Rean tried his best to calm his steed down, but the horse continued to jerk around, trying to launch him off. He couldn’t help but feel a little frustrated. Seriously, the horse was cooperative for the past two days. Why was it choosing now of all times to suddenly hate his guts? At this rate, he might as well chase after the rest of his classmates on foot.

“Rean,” Jusis asked, keeping his own horse at a distance. “Shall we wait for you, or..?”

“Or I could ride on Lammy and you could ride with Jusis!”

“It’s fine, It wouldn’t be a good idea to abandon this horse. Go ahead on your own, right now, Alisa needs all the support she can get.”

He received a brief nod, as well as a loud “See you later! If Professor Lughman approaches you, give him another nice punch forme!” from Millium. They didn’t think leaving him in the same area as Alisa’s father was a problem.

The horse continued to spin around and try to buck him off despite how hard Rean pulled on the reins. Even five minutes later, the horse showed no signs of obeying. 

“Having trouble?”

Rean was trying so hard to ignore Alberich’s nearing presence, but seeing the knowing smirk on the man’s face made him realize that the horse’s distress must’ve been his doing. Sensing that he could do nothing to calm the horse, Rean decided to relent and push himself off the saddle while avoiding any kicks from the animal. 

“No thanks to you,” he muttered, watching the brown-haired man snap his fingers and a spherical black ball was released from its invisibility and flew to Alberich’s side. At once, the horse stopped thrashing. It wasn’t hard to see the connection.

“Oh my, first you punch me and now you exhibit such a rude attitude. Hm, school really has changed you. Where has the obedience gone?”

His monotone words were similar to a complaint Instructor Sara had told him not long ago. Instead of feeling exasperation like from before, he only felt disgust. At the same time, however, he had to remind himself that Alberich wasn’t an enemy, or at least pretend that he wasn’t an enemy. 

“Sorry.” Not really. “It’s just part of the act.”

“Is it an act or is it reality?” Alberich countered, dark eyes analyzing his general appearance and also trying to bore into his soul. Rean found himself frozen on the spot, partially because of conditioning but mostly because he didn’t know what to expect next. Alberich wouldn’t have gotten him alone without wanting something. “I’m assuming the latter. Your heart was always so weak without Lord Ishmelga, so it’s not surprising to see you sway over to the bleeding hearts of immature teenagers.”

Although Rean was still angry at him for what he said to Alisa, the insult didn’t probe any new emotions out of him. Instead, he realized that this was as good a chance as any to gain information about what happened yesterday. 

“Maybe you’re right, but what about you? Your projects and where you test them seem to have suddenly escalated and you’ve caught the attention of the Gralsritter.” He carefully watched the man’s face for any slight changes, but wasn’t surprised to see any. Carefully, he added, “I heard the Church sent an assassin after the last guy who tampered with stigmas. I heard the guy’s dead now.”

Alberch waved the information off, completely unbothered. “The problem with that dead fool is that the Septian Church already knew him. They don’t know me and they can’t follow my trail. Even if they somehow do, they will only be led to a scapegoat or two.”

“Like Georg?”

“Not particularly… Let’s just say I struck a deal with a fairly intelligent human that seemed a little interested in some tools that weren’t S-weapons.”

There was barely anything like the idea of Alberich placing tools of hypnotism or dangerous-monster-summoning devices in the wrong hands that could strike Rean with equal amounts of fear and frustration. 

"That sounds like making a trail. It also sounds like that has the great potential to backfire."

"No need to worry. He can’t remember me and I made sure he's limited enough to not cause any damage that would affect the Great Twilight."

Well, that still didn't reassure him at all.

“So your goal here was to make a deal?” Rean pushed, knowing it was obvious that he was just probing for more information. “You just hypnotized a whole settlement and almost doomed their fates to a gigantic monster because you felt like it?” 

Luckily, Alberich had just enough of a big ego when it involved his latest creations and he couldn’t resist showing off just a little bit. “Oh, that? The deal was just something that happened spontaneously, though the fact that the Dominion arrived much earlier than anticipated did factor into why I made the deal in the first place. The initial reason for my being here was to experiment. I victimized that settlement because I believed no one would care about them.”

Rean could feel the impulsive energy gather in his arm again, urging him to punch Alberich again. Oh Aidios, he was feeling so unusually violent today, and Alberich was not helping his case at all. 

“Also because I knew the curse wouldn’t affect them at all. They’re so kind and peaceful that it’s disturbing,” Alberich muttered before he held his hand up and pointed one of his fingers in the sky. “The hypnotism was to see if my technique was effective and to see if I could hypnotize them to feel malice. It didn’t work.” He held another finger up. “While the artificial stigmas induced hypnotism, their main effect was supposed to provide an extreme strength boost to the wearer. Clearly that didn’t work either.”

He let out a disappointed sigh, and Rean could only wait patiently for him to continue.

“I messed with the elements in the environment because I wanted to see if I could artificially cultivate the Great Twilight. Obviously that didn’t happen and only ended up summoning a pseudo-cryptid.” He was holding up three fingers before he dropped his hand. “That’s all the important notes I took. It was a day full of errors, though I suppose that’s the beauty of trial-and-error.”

If he could accomplish this much through failing, he dreaded to see what success would look like.

Though… Rean noticed that he neglected to mention other glaring details. “What about why Thoma tried to kill Prince Cedric? Or why the fake-Norton led my classmates to the Ancient Quarry and tried to trap them there?”

Alberich only flicked his wrist as if those two matters didn’t interest him that much. “I only ordered the boy to kill the foreigner. I wanted to see who he would attack based on that vague order. Would it be based on my perception of what a foreigner is, or his perception? Now then, as for your question about this ‘fake-Norton’, I think I've satisfied your curiosity enough so I'll answer by asking my own question: Why do you think I’m related to that?”

“You were walking together when I first encountered you here.” He was only slightly doubtful of their connection because Emma mentioned that the fake-Norton was possibly a witch. With all the bad blood between witches and gnomes, it wasn’t likely they would work together- especially not with the chief of the gnomes. 

“I suppose I made it obvious. Not one of the brightest questions I’ve ever asked, I admit,” Alberich shrugged, but his smirk didn’t change as he started to walk forward, closing the gap between him and Rean until they were only two arge apart. Rean stiffly leaned away as the other crouched down a bit and looked at him at eye-level. “But it’s expected because you also asked a not-so-bright question.”

“How so?” He didn’t like the look of cold humor swirling in Alberich’s dark eyes.

“You said it yourself. Why did the ‘fake-Norton’ lead your classmates somewhere only to trap them there? Well, why else? There can’t be that many reasons.”

“You... wanted to separate me from them?”

“Due to an unexpected variable, the goal wasn’t met.” Alberich then stood at his full height, looking down at him condescendingly. “But yes, the plan did involve separating you from them.” He nonchalantly paused, giving more emphasis to his next word. “Forever.”

 

THUMP

 

The next second was a blur, the only sense Rean could actually register was a SNAP followed by a loud TWANG of metal clashing against metal. He had to blink away all the red from his vision—why was there so much red—before he could see what happened. 

Alberich hadn’t changed from his previous position, still casually standing still. His hand was raised, positioned like he just finished snapping, and beside him was his combat shell Zoa Balor.

It took Rean a second too long to realize that Zoa Balor was protecting its master from the sharp edge of a blade— his tachi—which was digging into its metal skin. His eyes followed the length of the blade, to the hilt, and to his hands which were firmly holding it.

He just… Did he just raise his blade against Black Alberich? But he couldn’t remember controlling his movements, from his fingers brushing his hilt to his arm making a full swing. 

How..? It shouldn’t have been possible. As much as he disliked the guy, he knew Alberich’s life was necessary for the Great Twilight. He would've never raised his sword against him until after the Great Twilight started. His death now would’ve set his dad’s plans back so much.

Alberich only seemed amused at the situation, entertained by watching how Rean was trying to process his own volatility. “Does the thought of me trying to murder your friends irk you so much that you want to kill me?” 

He wasn’t so sure. His emotions were a mess, filled with confusion but also flares of anger. The intense thudding of his cursed heart, screaming for blood, didn’t help at all.

“Is it because of me?” Rean tried to force his emotions down like he always did, but they seemed intent to keep flowing, fueling his thoughts and his muscles. At least the effort it took to pull his sword away and sheathe it safely in his scabbard was arduous enough to calm him down because of exhaustion. “Are you trying to kill them because of me?”

Alberich let out a loud, mirthful laugh, catching Rean off guard. He didn’t even think this man was capable of releasing anything more than a deep chuckle. 

“You think I actually care about the life or death of them because of whatever you’re doing? How humorous of you!” What sounded like a great amusement from this man only sent chills up his spine. “It was a simple whim at the time because I thought your classmates could prove to be wonderful toys for a new project of mine. I assure you that it’s not likely to happen again. Plus why would I go through the effort of attempting to kill them again when you’re obviously capable of doing that much all by yourself?”

THUMP

“You seem to really believe that I’ll ruin my classmates,” Rean grit out, already regretting that he asked the question as he ignored his raging heart. Only sheer willpower allowed him to keep his nondominant hand moving to his chest.

A neutral expression returned to Alberich’s face when he briefly pointed to the tachi resting on Rean’s hip. “Ignoring how you tried to behead me…” His wrist tilted upward, finger pointing to Rean’s chest. “You’re a vessel for an entity created from human malice, the same as me. I know how you think. We were practically made to ruin others, especially when they offer no more value—"

THUMP

"You just have to accept—”

“Take that back.”

Alberich raised one eyebrow at the teen, curiously watching a brief gleam of red pass his eyes again. “Pardon?” he asked, undaunted. Upon hearing no response, he decided to speak more, intentionally drawing out more of this reaction. “Take what back? The part about you being a vessel? You never cared that much about it before or— are you talking about the part where I said your so-called friends have no value?”

Just like his attack on Alberich, the words had slipped out without Rean even thinking. Because he didn’t think, he didn't even know how to react to Alberich's question. He didn't even know his muscles were tensed up, torn between containing or releasing more of Ishmelga’s power.

“Ah… I see. You take offense to how I compared your friends to junk— to less than junk, because at least I can turn junk into a tool and give it a purpose. Your friends, however… What purpose do they serve? From what Georg tells me, they stir up unnecessary drama, wasting the precious time you could be using to unlock the Ashen Knight.”

Wrong..!

“In return for your kindness and help, they— what do they even do? Say thanks and just ask for more help? Give you anxiety and panic attacks? Waste more of your time? Make you forget the objectives that actually matter? How useless, worthless—”

“They help me beat the Divine Knight trials.”

Rean had no idea why he felt compelled to defend Class VII’s honor from Alberich of all people. This man wouldn’t understand— wouldn’t ever understand. 

“They steal the experience you need to become a worthy Awakener. I seriously doubt the Ashen Knight is pleased with you.” Alberich crossed his arms against his chest with a heavy huff.. "In addition to that, you wouldn't even need their help if you stopped holding back."

"They—"

"Don't tell me you'll argue that they help you by giving you happiness. In the grand scheme of things, such emotions are fleeting and meaningless anyway, unless…" The man's head tilted slightly, continuing to look down on him condescendingly but with a touch of interest. "...Your true plan is to plant the seeds of despair in them for when you inevitably leave them? They do seem like good kids, but your betrayal could leave them weak to the curse.” 

THUMP

…What?

Rean openly stared at the gnome in confusion, not immediately comprehending. Or maybe he just didn't want to comprehend.

Alberich chuckled, entertained by his confusion. “Bonds are interesting like that. People don’t pay attention to the bonds they build, but the moment it snaps…” He took out the family photo—of him and the Reinford family happily living together—out of his pocket and made a tear in the middle, to emphasize his point. “Well, it tends to result in grief, like how Alisa is right now. If that's the case, then it seems like I've underestimated you."

His body flinched in surprise. Alberich's conclusion was far from the truth, and yet it was also… plausible. How would they react if he revealed he was ‘technically’ working with an evil entity to destroy the world?

He'd been so distraught about his own inevitable departure that he never considered how the others would feel about it. 

Would it be a painful betrayal to them? Would they feel abandoned?

He just assumed that they wouldn’t care, but… He couldn't deny that his classmates didn't dislike him, especially when they believed he was someone he was not. It was hard for him to believe, but there was a possibility that leaving them would destroy them as much as it would destroy him. 

But then that meant…

 

Becoming friends with Class VII was a big… mistake.

 

“But of course, that was not your plan at all. Instead of ruining them, they ruined you,” Alberich heavily punctuated his words with a tone of disgust. “Because of them, you’re so confused. Your heart’s so lost that it can’t distinguish friend or foe. That’s why you attacked me even though you know you’re not allowed to.” He let out a long sigh, watching the wide-eyed teen in front of him breath heavily. “That’s why you can attack your so-called friends even if you don’t want to.”

Every single word that came out of his mouth couldn’t stop making sense. It explained everything. Rean had been feeling so lost since he cemented his friendship with the rest of the class in Bareahard that it could have affected his subconscious for the worse. Not to mention, the reactions he’d been experiencing on this field study were never as intense as before. 

Plus, the nightmare— 

He didn’t want to believe it.

“It’s not their fault that I'm...” What was the word for the feeling like he was a rope in a game of tug of war, being pulled between two opposing forces to the point where he was being torn in half? "...Confused."

“But of course, when are good people ever at fault?” Alberich rolled his eyes in ridicule. “But it’s not necessarily your fault either. You may be terrible, but there’s nothing wrong with being bad. You are perfectly terrible. There’s nothing wrong with that being you. ” 

Rean choked, not expecting to suddenly be reassured by Alberich of all people. 

It reminded him too much of the words all his guardians always gave him.

“Just be you. Follow your heart and do what you want to do. No matter what, we’ll love you all the same,” Mom once said.

 

“Understanding and accepting one’s own heart is not an easy task. But do not worry. It is okay to take a while to understand as long as you do not forget that you still have one,” Lianne once said. 

 

“Rean, the Ashen Saint is an identity that Ishmelga and I created. You can’t pretend that it’s ‘you.’ Instead, you have to find yourself. When that happens, I’ll leave it to ‘you’ to do whatever you will be happy doing,” Dad once said. 

 

“Don't be afraid, Rean. Be free to be yourself. We'll accept you with no regrets,” Mother and Father said many times.

 

Their words, even Alberich’s words, all had the same meaning: To be himself.

The difference between everyone else and Alberich was that he knew everyone else believed his true self was being good. Meanwhile, he and Alberich had one thing in common. One very important thing neither of them could escape from. A thing that meant Alberich could truly understand his core was filled with evil.

Obviously, he believed the latter. 

(This chosen belief managed to significantly calm him down.)

“I think the only thing that should be fixed…” Alberich continued off of their conversation, gaining a fake tone of sympathy and pity in his voice. “Is the people you choose to stand with. You know they’re too good for you. While there is nothing wrong with that, we both know that you’ll eventually destroy all of them if this goes on for too long.”

THUMP

And the cursed energy surged again, only lacking enough intensity so Rean could stop himself from grabbing his sword again.

But it was enough for him to make another decision.

“Shut. Up.”

“Of course, Lord Ishmelga’s Vessel.”

The worst part about interacting with Black Alberich was making the man listen to him. Especially since the only way to make him listen would be if Rean used his authority as Ishmelga’s Vessel .

Doing so was just… disgusting. Rean didn’t like using this privilege because to use it meant that he acknowledged and accepted his connection to Ishmelga, but Alberich was just too much. .

But, in a messed up way, he had a special type of respect for Black Alberich. This man and Elise Schwarzer were the only people who earned this kind of respect from him.

Those two were special because they were the only people who told him the truth.

The truth that he was terrible— 

The worst—

Unwanted—

Unable to belong with the people he cared about.

For telling him the truth, he cared deeply for Elise. For telling him the truth, he couldn’t not listen to Alberich’s words.

“Well then, I suppose I shall take my leave.”

At this point, Rean wasn’t really paying attention, too wrapped up in his thoughts to think about what Alberich achieved from their conversation.

“But before I go…” With a snap of his fingers, he called out, “Orchid Brünnhilde.”

A glow of light suddenly converged in the space a few arge in front of them. The whole area was engulfed with a flash of white light, blinding him for a second until his eyes recovered to see a masked woman suddenly appear before them. 

Who— 

Long, lavender hair flowed past her shoulders, hanging just below her waist. Behind the bangs that shadowed half of her face was a deep violet, ornate mask that left no rege of her face visible. 

“Let me introduce you to the newest tool in the Black Workshop’s collection.”

Any association Alberich had with another humanoid was a puppet to him, so he was not surprised by that revelation. What caught most of his attention though was an indigo robe that was long enough to almost touch her ankles, as well as the scepter, taller than her own height, that was clutched in her fingers.

She looked like a witch. 

She… also reminded him of Emma. 

“You… brainwashed a witch?”

Alberich scoffed, “It’s not brainwashing if she was already braindead. Not that the technicalities bother me.”

“Wait, she was dead? You desecrated her grave?” 

“Oh please. That’s the least sacrilegious thing I could do, especially when I’m already working on removing the Septian Church from the seat of power.” There was a short pause as the man hummed for a bit, deep in thought, just before a sadistic smirk crossed his face again. “I do wonder what Roselia's face would’ve looked like when she realized that recipe was not the only thing I stole…”

Rean briefly wondered how Alberich was even capable of grave digging in the witch’s forest without getting caught immediately, but a memory of conversation with Emma banished those thoughts.

"I did find some magic residue left in the dormitory and it didn’t belong to me. And, given your description of the ghost, I think it’s a type of entity that a really powerful witch could conjure up…”

He grimaced. “Was the ghost in my dormitory because of her— because of you?”

The chief of the gnomes offered him nothing more than a deep chuckle, casually walking toward the witch before he raised his arm and snapped his fingers. As the sound traveled through the highlands, the crystal on the witch’s staff glowed an ephemeral blue, engulfing the area in a bright light again. The light quickly disappeared, along with any trace of Black Alberich and Orchid Brünnhilde. 

Rean’s knees almost hit the ground as a wave of exhaustion crashed down on him. He must’ve been an idiot yesterday for actually wanting to find Alberich to talk to him. He should’ve known any one-on-one conversation with him would only barely be worth it. In exchange for information, he felt like his own sanity was the price he had to pay.

Just thinking about how the chief of the gnomes had control over a powerful dead witch was enough to give Rean a headache. Gnome technology and witch magic were both capable of performing the impossible in their own rights. To combine the two under Ishmelga’s influence? Absolutely nothing good could come out of that and the only reason he didn’t feel anxious about it was because he distracted himself by climbing onto his horse and weakly urging it to head to the settlement. 

But no headache caused by such thoughts could be compared to the devastating mental exhaustion caused by the problem that was him and Class VII. 

Alberich made good points- too many good points.  

Heart disorientation. Impulse to kill. The severing of bonds. Vulnerability to the curse. His classmates were doomed at this rate. The only relief he could find was that he never felt the urge to hurt any of his classmates and none of them were as annoying as Alberich to make him want to hurt them. Plus, with enough meditation, he could rebuild his control over himself, kill his desire for belongingness, and refocus on his goal.

(He just had to figure out how to clear his head enough to actually meditate.)

Meanwhile, the less controllable problem was leaving the class weak to the curse because of their bonds.

…

He didn’t know how to fix that.

---

The ride to the Nord Settlement was a blur, Rean too preoccupied with his thoughts to pay attention to the closing distance between his location and the settlement. When he passed through the northern gate, he noticed how the place seemed much livelier than it had ever been. The winds were dancing, wafting and weaving around the area and carrying the smell of mouth-watering food with it as warm fires were cackling and brightening each tent.

Based on his senses, he could tell the majority of the settlers and some of his classmates were in the Worzel tent. His first instinct was to join everyone in the tent and regroup with his classmates, but his legs suddenly felt as heavy as lead. 

“Oh, Rean, there you are!” The flaps to the tent opened as Emma stepped out and waved at him. This was the first time he ever felt uncomfortable around her, but he was at least glad that his heart wasn’t reacting. “As you can tell, everyone in the settlement is celebrating how the curse was lifted from here. They made a lot of good food, and Father Barkhorn brought some alcohol even though we can’t drink it- but I digress!” Her smile was earnest, but Rean could sense an ulterior motive starting to swirl in her eyes. “Gaius is being bear-hugged by his family, while Millium is eating all the food and Jusis is making sure she doesn’t accidentally choke herself.”

A slight smile tugged at his lips, the images of what Emma described being so easy to envision. But it didn’t last long for worry to cascade down on him when he noticed she didn’t mention the one classmate that was definitely not in the mood for a celebration.

“What happened to Alisa?”

“W- Well…” Emma glanced away from him and raised her hand to point at something in the distance. Rean followed the direction of where she was pointing and eventually found a mop of blonde hair pacing back and forth at the base of the hill. “We talked with her. Then she had another talk with her grandfather. Ever since the conversation ended, Alisa’s been pacing there while her grandfather joined the celebration to drink alcohol.”

Even from a distance, Alisa’s pacing seemed to radiate frustration and nervousness. “Does she need time alone?” he asked. 

“I think she needs someone to comfort her.”

Rean stared at Emma for a long moment, wondering why she didn’t try to comfort Alisa. Instead, his classmate mirrored his expression, as if she was expecting him to offer to comfort Alisa. 

“I think it would be better if you were the one there for her, Rean,” she eventually said.

He couldn’t help but wonder why Emma thought he would be more effective at comforting Alisa, but then he noticed how Emma’s fingers seemed to be nervously playing with her long braid of hair.  “Did something happen between the two of you?” He asked, pointing her nervous quirk out. “Is that why you’re asking me to go to her?”

Confusion manifested in the form of pinched plum eyebrows and a frown. “What? Oh— No, nothing’s wrong between me and Alisa.” Her eyes shied away from his gaze when she sighed. “I— Just go, Rean.”

Still stressed from Alberich’s conversation, he was seriously in no position to comfort anyone. On the other hand, he couldn’t just ignore Alisa’s distress, especially when Emma was so insistent. “O- Okay..?”

It was then that he realized he was in too deep. He always had trouble saying no to his friends; the most he could do was find excuses to avoid them. How was he supposed to suddenly start saying no if someone asked him to stay?

He couldn’t find the answer to that question before his legs moved forward and reached Alisa’s location. One glance backward revealed to him that Emma had disappeared back into the tent, presumably to give them privacy, before he snapped his attention back to the pacing blonde. 

“Hey, Alisa,” he greeted her quietly, trying his best to show no signs of nervousness.

She looked up at him, not too surprised by his presence. Her cheeks were flushed red, probably from frustration, as she stammered, “He- Hi.”

He was expecting to hear the leftovers of rage from her conversation with Alberich, but he was surprisingly met with a tone of restraint and nervousness. Assessing the rest of her nonverbal behavior, he noticed how her hands were tightly balled into fists, nails undoubtedly digging deeply into the skin of her palms. 

“How are you feeling?” He sounded like an idiot. Obviously she was feeling something along the lines of ‘bad’ after having someone with the face of her father basically disown her. 

“I’m fine. Talking with grandfather calmed me down just a bit,” she said, voice tight with the lie. Similarly, her eyes were still burning with the same intensity of flames from before. “There’s a lot of frustrating things for me to think about, but I feel like those thoughts are wasted on a night as beautiful as this.” She faced away from him and pointed at the sky. “See? Look how bright the stars are? You don’t see the sky as clear as this back at Roer or Heimdallr. It’d be a shame to not admire it while we’re still here.”

“You’re right.” He took a couple steps forward, positioning himself right beside her. “But are you sure you’re not confusing admiration with distraction?”

She huffed, voice slightly quivering but still speaking with a goal in mind. “I think my thoughts about my family are the distraction, not the scenery. I didn’t plan on spending my last night in Nord throwing tantrums.” 

They were both facing forward, not looking at each other but their shoulders were brushing against each other, a small comfort they both needed. But then Rean internally berated himself because this was the very definition of bonding, the thing he should’ve been avoiding. But, for the sake of his friends, he could find it easy to forget his own problems for a minute. 

“What did you plan to do instead?”

“I- Uh…” 

A few seconds of silence passed between them before Alisa shifted away from him. Turning his head slightly, he saw a faint blush dust her cheeks while her gaze searched for his. Compelled, he met her ruby-colored eyes and patiently waited for her complete response. 

“Um…”

Her smile dropped. Eventually, the nervous look that flitted through her eyes eventually morphed into irritation and she turned away from him. “Nevermind! I can’t do it!” She sounded more embarrassed than frustrated for a short second. “I’ll just keep throwing a tantrum because they ruined everything anyway!”

Rean’s eyebrow quirked up in confusion, wondering what Alisa’s plan was before she let in a deep inhale of breath and started her rant. “I can understand why Grandfather did what he did! I really can because I technically ran away from Mother as well! She’s irritating to live with, so naturally people would try to get away from her.”

She suddenly flinched, stopping her parade of words as if she’d been stung by them. Cautiously, she looked back at him, searching for something in his expression. She must’ve been satisfied with whatever she found (or didn’t find) because she continued her dialogue with the same energy.

“But I can kind of understand Mother too— Grief changes people! She changed because Father died— maybe she didn’t change for the best, but it makes sense even though I hate her for it!” Her fingers clenched and unclenched, unsure of what to do with her inner fury at her family. “It makes sense— It made sense! And then— But then— Father, he’s—”

A sole tear escaped from her left eye, making a slow journey down her cheek. 

“He’s alive. ”

Before he knew it, the girl spun around and threw herself at him, wrapping him in a tight embrace. Rean could only stay frozen in her arms, a detail she miraculously didn’t notice.

“I wanted to hug him when I first saw him back at Saint-Arkh— He’s alive when he’s supposed to be dead— That’s a happy time, right? Especially since his death was the catalyst for the rest of my family falling apart.” She buried her face in his shoulder, hopeful voice muffled to hide the traces of her disappointment. “I thought that if he came back, my family would return the way it used to— Mother would act caring again and Grandfather would return. I- I thought— I hoped— ”

Teeth gritting and throat hiccuping, she squeezed harder. All he could do now was stiffly rub her back. 

“But he has amnesia and he doesn’t even care to connect to his past— He even changed his hair color like he wanted to throw it all away! It makes no sense at all,” she laughed bitterly, loosening her grip on him. “He’s somehow alive, yet he’s still technically dead. What kind of sick joke is that?”

She then sighed deeply, saying nothing more as she leaned into his arms. A long silence passed between them, leading Rean to believe that she finally got all of her anger out of her system.

But suddenly, her muscles tensed again before she let go of him and turned away.

“Alisa—”

“DAMN IT ALL, IT’S SO UNFAIR!” Her abrupt scream cut him off, Alisa’s lungs pouring all their energy into an agonized voice that would surely reach the heavens. Bitter tears were still leaking and dripping as she threw her white-knuckled hands down by her sides. “I just want to stop FEELING for them! I thought by becoming independent, I could stop THINKING about them and just focus on my own life! I thought I could just FOCUS on studying, PLANNING a future away from my mother, and eventually CONFESSING to you, but I just CAN’T stop—”

THUMP

Her eyes widened, the indignant rage in them stilling as her voice trailed to finish her sentence. “...caring.”

Rean could only hope that he was able to keep his expression blank when he processed the meaning of her words. She said so much yet his thoughts blanked at only one part. 

Confess?

To him? About… what? Her feelings? He must've heard wrong. Wasn’t she just ranting about her family? How did the subject change so quickly? Why did she sound like she wanted to confess to him?

His heart pounded for all the wrong reasons.

“I- uh-” Most of Alisa’s face was frozen with horror. “You didn’t hear that. Pretend you didn’t hear that.”

“Okay..?”

...Yeah, it would be best to pretend...

His confused response caused her eyes to sharply pin him down. “Actually, nevermind. I don’t want to pretend nothing happened.” She sighed in frustration, wiping the tears off her face before her lips curled up in awkwardness. Yet, her eyes bolded, deciding to improvise and go with the flow. “Rean, I swear I had a better way of telling you tonight, but… I mean it.”

Nervous energy compelled her feet to slightly shuffle against the grass as her hands clasped together, held directly in front of her heart.

“I really like you, Rean. Like— I like like you, as more than a friend.”

How— Why— 

Ruby eyes were twinkling at him, more brilliant than any star in the sky. Warmth was radiating from her adoring smile while the wind blew against her hair at just the right angle and strength to make it look like she had just gently descended from the sky. Rean could swear he was looking at an angel. 

She was stunningly beautiful at this moment, especially in contrast to how she’d been scowling and crying for most of this night. Along with her beauty, he also couldn’t deny that the way she took control over her accidental confession was endearingly cute. 

But…

Even if she confessed before they encountered Alberich, he couldn’t return her feelings. He just didn’t feel like that for her- for anyone. Ignoring how he couldn’t even comprehend how she had feelings for him, it just felt so wrong to respond with fake feelings after she’d just spilled all of her deepest feelings for him to witness. To meet her vulnerable honesty with a pitying lie would just be… too cruel, even for him.

The act of looking away, feeling completely unworthy of her affection, was the only response she needed to understand.

“I’m sorry.” 

They have shared silences before, usually when deciding to study together or to walk together to school. None have ever felt as painfully long and uncomfortable as this one.

“Oh, okay then.” The breath that eventually escaped her was full of immeasurable disappointment, yet still held a tone of understanding. “I guess… it was a long shot, haha…” 

Her laughs were normally genuine or awkward, never fake because she was too honest to be fake. To hear this laugh from her sounded wrong. So entirely wrong, further twisting his insides. “W- We can still be friends though, right?”

Yeah.

But his jaw was locked and his cowardly voice hid in his throat. He wanted to say yes so bad, but he could only think about Alberich’s words to him earlier.

“I think the only thing that should be fixed… Is the people you choose to stand with. You know they’re too good for you.”

N- No— 

THUMP

His predicament could wait..! Alisa didn’t deserve another rejection tonight— 

He opened his mouth to say the answer they both wanted to hear.

 

But it was too late. 

 

“Why?” The amount of time he spent in his hurricane of inner conflict was too long, so Alisa took it as a sign of rejection. Her voice, so full of pain, cracked and her breath hitched, finally losing it from having her heart broken so many times this night. “Is it because there’s something wrong with me?” A look of horrific epiphany dawned on her face. “Is that why everyone keeps cutting ties with me?”

“No—” He reached out to her, wanting to clear the misunderstanding and to tell her there was absolutely nothing wrong with her.

But she stepped away from him, keeping herself out of his range.

“I… I—” Her voice trembled, as well as her entire frame. With bangs shadowing her eyes, her crumbling expression couldn’t be deciphered, but he hoped that she would march up to him and slap him harder than when she’d slapped him on the first day of school. If she was going to believe that he didn’t want to be friends, he hoped that she would scream at him, give him the cold shoulder, show any of the indignant rage she had shown Alberich. 

He hoped that she would fight him because she was always a fighter when it came to her family, monsters, or stuck-up nobles. 

But she didn’t fight.

“You don’t have to lie for me.”

 

She only  ran.

 

He almost chased after her, to tell her to not assume that his brief silence meant rejection.

But then a thought dawned on him. What was the point in fixing the misunderstanding and cheering Alisa up when he was going to inevitably sever ties with her anyway? Wouldn’t that be a joke crueler than any kind of torture Alberich could pull off? 

Maybe… This was for the best. To sever the bond now instead of later. Now, it hurt. Later, it would hurt much more. By bringing the pain now, wouldn’t he be saving them the pain of later? Severing the bonds earlier would also give them more time to recover and get over it. 

That was... a solution.

So then, while he was concerned by the pain he just put Alisa in, he could trust the rest of Class VII to pull her back up. Through it, they would grow stronger and be closer together. They would be fine because they had each other, now and in the cursed future.

They would be okay…

 

...As long as Rean didn’t become their weakness. 

THUMP

Sorrowful tears quietly glistened in the moonlight and trailed behind the fleeing figure. Though he made his final decision, he also couldn’t help but let the knowledge that he was no longer there for her settle in his gut, reminding him of the talk he had with Alisa back at Celdic.

“ You’re just… there for me… even though you obviously have your own problems… That makes you a friend.”

 

One gone. Just like that. 

 

Eight more to go.

Notes:

Hope that wasn't too much lol. But… Uh… Was there anything you liked about the last two chapters?

Anyway~

Time to destroy Rean’s support system before it was fully completed~! (And I’m so sorry that it had to begin with breaking Alisa’s heart and confusing the hell out of her. I may be somewhat desensitized to Rean suffering but Alisa suffering? That's an ouch.)

And since Alberich is so against the church, I thought it would be interesting for him to actually have parallels to stuff the Church has, while also making countermeasures to things unaffected by the curse (hence the topic of stigmas here). I’m trying to figure out how to build him up more as a villain and so far I managed to get 4 members of Class VII to hate him now or eventually when they learn what he’s done. That's probably a good start lol

Also, Orchid Brunhilde is Emma’s mom, the lady who got mentioned by name like only once in CSIV. Sorry, it was a little mean of me to encourage you to guess someone so obscure ._.

To be continued in “Chapter 17 - Heart Disorientation”
Aka where we return to canon stuff happening like our regularly scheduled terrorist attack! We’ll also get some fresh perspectives finally (and a lack of one, lol).

Take care, thanks for reading, and I’d appreciate a comment!

Chapter 17: Heart Disorientation

Notes:

January’s Chapter~

I changed the category tag/warning thing from M/M to Multi because I realized we’re already six digits in word count and the slow burn romance hasn’t even started—I know it changes literally nothing but I’m oddly pleased by looking at more colors :3

"Orchid Brünnhilde, this is Ishmelga’s other vessel, besides me of course." A photo of a black-haired young man with lilac eyes was placed on the table between them. "Another part of your mission is to place this on his person."

Black Alberich held a small piece of paper between his fingers. On both sides, certain markings had been inscribed into the paper, revealing that it was a paper talisman. 

"He wears an empty locket and usually never takes it off and never looks at it. It’s quite a shame because the sadness that one gets from recalling lost, happy memories is an emotion Ishmelga would certainly thrive off of—but I digress. All you need to do is get close to him and slip this into his locket."

Orchid Brünnhilde inspected the item carefully, vaguely remembering she helped make this talisman not too long ago.

Berserk-induction. It was intentionally made to have a weak effect, but the purpose of the talisman was to cause the berserk status on the owner. 

What a peculiar thing. Normally talismans were supposed to protect the wearer from things like status effects, but Black Alberich reverse engineered the tool and tweaked its functioning .

"I know you’re supposed to be incapable of having independent thoughts, but I wouldn’t be surprised if someone as powerful as you managed to maintain the curiosity ingrained in all gnomes and witches." The man chuckled. "Go ahead, ask me any question."

Orchid Brünnhilde silently plucked the talisman out of Black Alberich's fingers staring at him for a couple long moments. “Why?” The word slipped out of her mouth without any forethought. The question didn’t originate from her current headspace as Alberich’s puppet, but perhaps from something deeper. It surprised her, yet she continued to add onto the question. “Why are you doing this?”

“Of all the questions you ask, it’s one that is elementary-level? You truly have lost yourself.” The man’s expression flattened, looking disappointed in her. “You should know that all I do is because of Ishmelga’s will. The suffering I bring to that family and to everyone is all a necessary component to Lord Ishmega’s end goal. Almost nothing else can give me more satisfaction.

“However, in the case of the boy, things are a little different. The purpose behind this talisman is the same as the reasoning behind the ghost I had you summon: A way to torment him. Lord Ishmelga can sense his confusion, so it’s just a way to remind him of what he is. Plus, Lord Ishmelga is… upset with some of the emotions that have been flowing in their link recently.” His fingers retreated to loosely cup his own chin. “Now, if the boy ends up losing control, resulting in him killing people or getting himself killed… Well, I could just revive him without much problem. It would actually be a boon because his pesky feelings wouldn’t bother Lord Ishmelga again.”

As expected, the woman did not make any comment. She had no reason to. 

“I’m not too curious about what the outcome will be, especially since there will be little consequences for Ishmelga.” Alberich let out a long sigh as he folded his arms across his chest. “Anyway, when we encounter him and his classmates, you're going to get close enough to him and slip the talisman inside and…”

 

---

---

 

Seeing Gaius reunite with his family was heartwarming… but it also made Alisa jealous. Only to be replaced by the feeling of longingness. Gosh, why couldn’t her family be like that? Why couldn’t Mother look at her like his parents, like she was proud of her own growth and accomplishments? Why couldn’t her family be… whole?

Such feelings were worthless. Her mother chose to throw her entire being into her work. Her grandfather chose to disappear without a trace. Alisa chose to find her independence. 

And then… Father was apparently not dead, yet he still chose to act like the family was dead to him. 

It was all about choices. They all chose this- whatever this was.

Yet… She was still worried about them. Despite all the emotional pain swelling and burning at all her veins, she still cared. It wasn’t fair, but she couldn’t change her emotions.

That was why, when Grandfather caught up to her and apologized for being distant and promised to visit her more in the future, she reluctantly forgave him. Though the conversation involved much less annoyed huffing, cold shoulders, and snark than she actually needed to let these emotions out because—

“You are my daughter? But you're so fiery tempered, volatile, and aggressive. I may not have my memories but I do know I have enough intelligence to raise a child to be more refined than whatever you turned out to be."

—Because a member of her family was actually trying to reach out to her for once and she didn’t want to ruin it, thus she locked away her feelings somewhere inside and looked toward the future—looked toward her friends. 

“If you ever want to talk about it, just know that I’m all ears,” Emma said, eyebrows softly slanted in worry.

“I can’t say I can understand what you’re feeling,” Gaius bowed his head slightly down in sympathy. “I don’t know what to do either, but if you need any support, you know we’re here for you.”

“I just want to point out to you that your father is absolutely abhorrent and I’d even pay Regnitz to try to punch him harder than Rean did,” Jusis commented dryly.

“Alisa..? Do you need a hug?” Millium held her arms out to her, although her eyes showed less of her usual energy and more worry with uncertainty. “I can give you a hug if you need one. Claire always says they help her relax.”

For them, she was grateful. She thanked them for allowing her to meet such friends who acted more like a family for her than her actual blood-related family at the moment. However, thanking them was all she did because she didn’t want to burden them with her feelings during a time when the Nord people decided to throw a celebration for Gaius’ return and surviving the curse. 

Perhaps in a later time, she would lay her feelings bare to them. For now, however, she would just grin and bear it. After all, she had other feelings she would rather prioritize. 

…Like confessing to Rean.

It sounded silly to make something like this a priority, she knew! But she couldn’t stop thinking about him! Like she said, she couldn't control her dumb feelings! Just the thought of his cute smile made her heart flutter warmly and it sure as heck was something she’d much rather think about than her family. Plus, Emma did have a point earlier today that the nightly hours at Nord set a really good mood. 

(And it was a way for her to feel like she had control over her own life, initiating something that Mother would maybe not allow her to do.)

It was an opportunity and she didn’t want her crappy family to ruin even that! 

Rean was compassionate and protective (she still couldn’t believe he punched her dad for her sake). He had issues here and there, but who didn’t? Overall, with such a kind demeanor, a loving family (indicated by what she saw of his sister), and a penchant for heroics, Alisa saw a stable and caring young man.

And… Coming from a family full of instability and indifference, Alisa couldn’t not find herself attracted to such a person. 

So she waited and mentally prepared herself. 

Until Rean showed up and greeted her. 

Despite playing a million different scenarios in her head about how her confession would go down, she still found her throat twisting and making her forget how to speak. Then, in her panic to find words to say the right words, she began to get flustered and shifted the conversation around to something she was more comfortable with.

Which was how she ended up ranting about her parents.

Then ended up hugging him because there were still so many emotions—

Which led to her screaming out her feelings—

 

Even feelings that included her infatuation with him. 

 

Wait. 

“I- uh-” She wasn’t supposed to say that. Not like this. “You didn’t hear that. Pretend you didn’t hear that.”

Her mind raced, full of angry criticisms for how she managed to ruin even something like this up. Seriously, why couldn’t she say something as simple as “I like you” without bringing the negative emotional baggage? Why did she have such a hard time separating her past with her present?

“Okay..?” Was his eventual response. Full of confusion.

And… with relief.

Her thoughts screeched to a deafening halt at that, focusing on his strange tone. Why did he sound like that? What did that mean? Did he not want her to confess to him? Or was it something else?

The fear that her feelings were unrequited gripped her heart, insecurity cascading down on her like a tsunami rolling off the edge of the world. She didn’t want to believe such a thing, but she had to know now or else the mystery behind his true thoughts about her would cripple her mind forever. 

So she put her foot down—the way she always wanted to do when her mother was being infuriating—and confessed in the way she’d been practicing for weeks. 

“I’m sorry.”

A swift and honest rejection. 

She almost convinced herself that she misheard him. Unfortunately, she couldn’t believe in such a delusion with the way he turned his attention to the grass, acting like the vegetation was more interesting than her.

Disappointment was the first feeling weighing down on her that she could name . Two months of fuzzy feelings and hopes were all crushed in a flash. It surprisingly didn’t hurt . Such an emotion was nothing compared to the physical loss of her father and figurative loss of her mother, but she didn’t feel anything good either. 

Then, the feeling of shame haunted her for confessing because she was feeling so many disgusting emotions she didn’t really want to deal with at the moment. She regretted liking him, regretted telling him.

But... she was confused about why he rejected her. Was it something she did? Was she unappealing? Did he already have an interest in someone else? Did he not like her? Did he not like her anymore because she confessed? Were things going to be awkward between them now?

“Oh, okay then.” Her voice was so quiet and lacking her previous anticipation; her shuddering breath could not be hidden. Heat and pressure began to build up behind her eyes. “W- We can still be friends though, right?”

It was supposed to be a rhetorical question. She knew Rean wasn’t the type of person to end a friendship because of awkwardness, but…

Silence. Like he was debating whether to lie or tell the truth. Like the true answer was something that would hurt her.

Another rejection.

Another loss.

Her world tilted even more than usual. They were friends for two and a half months now, close enough for Rean to get angry on her behalf and punch Professor Lughman in the face. Maybe it wasn’t the strongest bond but it couldn’t be called weak either. For it to just stop all of a sudden…

It felt unreal.

Was he that offended that she dared to have feelings for him? Was she too annoying? Oh Goddess—was that why her father didn't want to come back, why her grandfather disappeared to the mountains, why her mother didn't involve herself in her life, and why Rean didn't want to be friends with her anymore?

If so many people left her, maybe the problem wasn’t with them, but with herself?

Maybe… She was just unlikable. 

The dam of tears broke, and everything was a blur after that. She didn't know how or when she ended up in Class VII's tent, just that she did and was pathetically crying into the sheets. 

If someone like Rean—so forgiving, patient, and kind—didn’t want to be friends with her, who was to say anyone wanted to be friends with her?

Did any one of her friends actually like her?

She despised the feeling of being alone, despite how she should’ve felt used to it under her indifferent mother’s care. Sure, Sharon was there, but the maid was only there per Mother’s orders. There was also Angie, but she wasn’t exactly a big presence in her life.

Class VII was the closest thing she had to a family in years. Once everyone finally managed to cast their differences aside, every classmate was willing to help, to care. For once, she felt like she cared for people who sincerely reciprocated her feelings. 

To think that it could all be a lie…

---

Alisa was never taught about healthy coping mechanisms. She only knew to lash out in anger and self reflect with shame when met with situations that were less than ideal, like when her chest fell on Rean’s face on the first day of school. In this situation, however, she was only angry at herself for being unlikeable, and she didn’t know how to lash out at herself.

So she adopted a different coping mechanism, specifically from her mother.

Workaholism.

That was what her mind resolved to do when she woke up the next day. To run away from all the feelings crushing her heart, to not pathetically cry in front of everyone, to not doubt her bonds with the rest of the class, she hyper-focused on every task that needed doing, even asking others to let her do more. 

She woke up early, immediately marching toward anyone if they needed help. For a whole hour, she managed to fetch some extra run-away sheep, educated some natives about cuisine and fashion trends in Erebonia, and helped prepare breakfast for her class before everyone woke up.

Not only did all the work keep her mind off of her feelings, but it kindled her sense of purpose and sense of security. If she was unlikeable—the reason why people kept rejecting her—then she would just have to be likable. Obviously, she didn’t have the best role models to follow in the likable department, so she decided to take on likable traits from Rean (because she believed that he was definitely likable).

If that meant killing people with kindness, helping people with even the most menial tasks, and smiling despite how much she actually wanted to cry, then so be it.

(Goddess, after twenty minutes, her cheeks already started to feel sore from forcing herself to smile all the time. Rean seriously must’ve been content with his life if he had no problems smiling all day.)

“Woah, Alisa, did you have a happy dream? You’re super energetic today!” Millium observed, offering her a grin as she messly ate the food she helped prepare. 

“Something like that,” she cheerily responded, hiding the quiver of her lips by sipping on her glass. According to her observations of the class, Millium and Jusis didn’t seem disturbed by her sudden need to constantly be doing something. She did notice how Gaius shot her confused glances while Emma seemed to have a permanent small frown on her face.

She probably saw what happened last night…

As for Rean… Well, she didn’t look at him ever. It was too awkward. Just hearing him breathe squeezed her heart a bit too much, so she didn’ know how she’d react by looking at him. It was only a miracle that the class didn’t notice the lack of interactions between them. 

(Or maybe they did, they just weren’t showing it.)

Anyway, the peacefulness of the day was cut short when they received news about how the Empire’s watchtower and the Republic’s facilities were both attacked early this morning and now both countries were on the brink of war. The events after that were a blur, Alisa finding herself riding a horse with Emma at her back and shooting arrows at wherever the class pointed her to shoot.

She felt like a machine, doing whatever Class VII agreed to do so they couldn’t say she was useless or find some other reason to not like her. Soon she was only just  shooting and shooting and shooting, letting her arrows fly onto all the monsters in their path.

Until her bow started pointing at a human being.

For a while now, they had been exploring the Ancient Quarry to capture the culprits behind the watchtower attacks, according to Millium. Only now did Alisa actually process in her brain that they found said culprits and were now engaging in battle with them.

Standing in front of them were a quartet of jaeger drop-outs, a bespectacled man, and a woman with blazing orange hair. Only the woman stayed out of the fight while Class VII fought with everyone else.

In more challenging battles like these, it was common for everyone to switch their links around to receive the best combat link abilities that suited the situation. By now, it must’ve been obvious to everyone how Alisa and Rean never linked. But that was fine, despite the lack of their best teamwork, Class VII managed to pull through and beat the ex- jaegers and the man who called himself G. 

Now the woman stepped forward, a smirk tugging at her lips while her hand drifted to the sword hilt on her hip, Millium jumped and pointed at her in shock.

“Wait, aren’t you the lady Fie said is Rufus Albarea’s girlfriend?!” 

Alisa blinked, forcing herself out of her mechanical state of mind to actually listen to a conversation that sounded so absurd without context. 

“She does look exactly like that nun…” Jusis muttered under his breath before he raised his voice. “Wait, what business do you have with my brother?!”

The woman wasn’t fazed by the accusation, choosing to let out a loud laugh. “So you saw that little cosplay of mine, not like it even matters.” She whipped out her sword, a wild grin now plastered on her face. “Come on Little Darlings, show me what you got!”

Alisa wasn’t good at reading her opponents, but she could sense that this woman had more combat experience than all these ex-jaegers combined. Naturally, The class tensed up, ready for another fight. They waited with bated breaths for the woman to make her first move, only to get confused when G raised his hand, signaling her to stop. 

“S, wait,” he said, receiving a puzzled pout from the woman. “There’s no need for you to fight.”

“Hm?”

“I heard legends that there’s a djinn in this quarry. I did a little research, and it turns out it does exist here. I also found out how to summon it.” He raised his gun and, to all their shock, he pointed it at one of the ex-jaegers. “With a little preparation I did beforehand, all that’s needed is the smell of sweet human blood.”

“What?!” screamed one of the ex-jaegers on the ground, still recovering from the fight with Class VII. “Wait! What are you—!”

BANG

Alisa tore her eyes away from the sight of seeing a man have his brains be blown by a bullet, feeling sick to the stomach. She was vaguely aware that her classmates were roaring about how G could kill his own comrades in cold blood, to which the man only said that these ex-jaegers were no comrades of his.

All of a sudden, eight glowing red dots appeared on the ceiling above them, falling toward them until it—a giant, demonic-looking spider—crashed into the ground. Tremors ripped through the floor and shook their bodies, stunning everyone as the spider pinned one of the living ex-jaegers down. In one swift movement, the djinn tore through the ex-jaeger’s abdomen with its mouth and—

Red.

At once, Alisa could feel her throat burning and she could hear the sound of someone vomiting. Was that her? Who was barfing? 

She couldn’t tell because all she could see now was darkness. All she could hear was monster-like screaming. And all she could feel was the sensation of falling.

Falling and falling until all she could see, hear, and feel was nothing.

---

It turned out that Alisa was not cut out to be the kind of person to act like everything was fine. Bottling up her emotions was something she was an expert at, but pretending that everything was all rainbows and unicorns? No. It wasn’t her and it wasn’t something she could turn into in the span of one night.

Case in point: When she woke up, she was already sobbing. She could quickly piece together what happened when that djinn mauled that ex-jaeger alive: She couldn’t stomach the sight so she blacked out while the floor must’ve given up from the force of the djinn’s heavy weight and landing. 

That was how she found herself in this dark abyss, the only source of light being provided by a flashlight by one of the dead ex-jaeger’s sides. To her misfortune, her only companion was her ex-crush and she was lying against something soft and warm and familiar.

It was literally like the first day of school again. She didn’t know if she should’ve felt enraged with how her chest was pressed against his face again or if she should’ve felt horror with how this meant that her ex-crush came to her rescue once again.

“What the hell, Rean?!” She decided to embrace both upsetting emotions, yelling at him and feeling her hand begin to sting after she… after she—

 Oh Goddess, she just slapped him. Again. 

Just like the first time. 

Wasn’t this the reason why he kept her distance from her at the beginning of the school year? Were impulsive actions like these the reason why he didn’t like her?

“But you're so fiery tempered, volatile, and aggressive. I may not have my memories but I do know I have enough intelligence to raise a child to be more refined than whatever you turned out to be."

Her not-dead father’s harsh words rang through her head again and the floodgates fully opened without any mercy. What was she doing? Why was she like this? Why couldn’t she do things right?!

“I didn’t need your help!” she screamed, actually wanting to say sorry but ended up blaming Rean for getting them into a situation that made her slap him without second thought. It made no sense, she knew, but it was starting to feel like this boy’s existence was starting to ruin her. “I don’t want help from someone who breaks off a friendship just because of a stupid confession! Please..! I can’t handle this..!”

To her surprise, Rean was unfazed by her screaming, or by how she was still on top of him, tears splashing with every tremor in her body. For the first time today, she made eye contact with him, watching in the dark as he calmly stared back at her with nonchalant eyes. Seeing the indifference in his face gave her another case of whiplash, as if she was looking at her mother or her not-dead father right now.

Was he so fed up with her that he didn’t even see a reason to act like he cared anymore?

Now the droplets of her tears turned into a stream, full of shame that her ex-crush, who apparently no longer cared about her, was witnessing her emotional breakdown brought her even more shame— 

“Do you want an apology for saving you?” 

His voice was ice, his words a challenge. 

She flinched back in shock. Knowing Rean (which was exponentially becoming debatable at this point), she expected him to still treat her with the usual kindness he treated with every other stranger. The only time any aggression manifested in his behavior was when he punched her father.

“H- Huh..?”

“Do you want an apology for saving you?” he repeated, voice more harsher and… borderline condescending? No, she must’ve heard wrong, Rean would never take on a tone like that—

“Well?”

That tone. It was the tone of some snobby noble getting impatient with whoever they looked down upon—the tone of Professor Lughman denouncing her as his daughter. Why was Rean— It wasn’t like she meant to— 

The feeling of injustice flared within her, feeling offended that he was talking to her like this. He wasn’t the one who had been rejected yesterday, so he had no reason to act so antagonistic towards her! If anything, she was the one who had the right to act bitter!

“Actually, yes!” she retorted, aggressively glaring at him with tear eyes as she climbed off of him. She didn’t understand why he was suddenly talking to her like this, but she wouldn’t just accept it. “I can handle myself just fine! I don’t need someone with a stupid hero complex to treat me like I'm a frail princess!”

Actually, she’d always longed to have someone just spoil her and take care of her, but she wasn’t going to say that. The point was that she didn't want her ex-crush to do that anymore because it stung her pride.

Rean’s voice became quieter as he sat up, but she still heard him mutter, “Then you should at least act like you’re capable of saving yourself.”

What the heck?!

Feelings of shame and self-hatred were becoming insignificant, replaced by pure anger.

“Are you saying that I’m weak?!” she hissed, suddenly questioning how she had a crush on him in the first place. Was she transported into some alternate universe where the people she knew were given completely different personalities without her knowledge? First it was her father, now it was Rean; what was with all these people having alter egos? 

She caught the movement of his jaw twitching, as if to respond, but no words came out. Rean only offered her silence before he moved to stand up, turning his head to survey their surroundings. Alisa debated whether or not she should finally give in to all her latent hurricane of emotions and wrangle this guy’s neck for ignoring her.

It did strike her as odd, why he was acting so out of character at the moment. However, her unresolved emotions clouded over her reason, making her immediately assume that maybe Rean was truly just a jerk and only pretended to be nice! Maybe it was a good thing they weren’t friends anymore…! Maybe Alisa was too quick to blame herself and that the blame rightfully belonged to Rean!

Heck, maybe Alisa wasn’t the problem—the cause—for everyone leaving her. Maybe she’d just been unfortunate enough to be surrounded by jerks!

Reining her own emotions in with gritted teeth, Alisa cautiously followed Rean's movements, intending to demand an actual answer from him. This turned out to be a mistake when she directly looked at the ex-jaeger’s corpse, feeling her stomach twist again at seeing the leftover organs spill— Oh. She had to look away. Since she’d somewhat calmed down from her own drama, the direness of the present situation was starting to actually hit her with the force of a runaway orbal train. 

Two people were dead. There was a giant man-eating spider on the loose. Everyone had fallen deeper into the quarry and were all separated.

There was still a potential war about to break out and they needed to bring at least one culprit back alive. The odds were not in their favor. Alisa’s inability to handle gore or gruesome death in general certainly didn’t help. 

On the other hand, Rean was unperturbed by the sight and smell of death, easily picking up the flashlight by the corpse, shining its light in all directions. They were surrounded by rocky walls for the most part, but there did appear to be a small tunnel that could lead somewhere else. 

“I’ll check out where it goes while you stay here,” he announced, already increasing Alisa’s frustration with how he made that decision by himself. 

“Nuh-uh. No. We either stay here together or we search for a way out together.” She may not want to be in his company right now or have the emotional capacity to properly work with him, but her logical brain was still functioning enough to know that splitting up right now would be a terrible idea. 

He passively faced her, expression completely flat, unreadable. Blank. So completely different from the kindness he usually displayed.

(Why? Did it matter to know why?)

Well, if that was the game he wanted to play, then she would stare back with equal indifference and stubbornness. The tears staining her cheeks probably didn't help her intimidation, but he got the point.

"Okay," Rean relented, voice strained for an unknown reason. "We'll go together."

…

By some miracle, the monsters they encountered in the tunnel were weaker than the ones they defeated earlier today. This was good because the higher elements were still in effect and they had no allies.

Not to mention, Alisa refused to link with Rean. She hadn't even linked with him this morning because of awkwardness, so there was no way she was going to link with him now when he was acting so, so UGH!

It was like he suddenly adopted a lone wolf approach to battle, choosing to engage with every enemy they came across without her input. His movements were also quick and more unpredictable than she was used to, giving her a difficult time of figuring out where to shoot. 

Their synchronicity was completely non-existent now and, despite how he was the source of much of her frustration at the moment, she couldn’t say that she didn’t miss how well they used to work together. Granted, he killed all of them before she could even let an arrow go loose, but…

It was like he was intentionally trying to keep her out of the battle. If she’d seen this behavior two days ago, she would’ve been concerned because he was carrying the burden of fighting all by himself. Now, however, Alisa couldn’t help but interpret this behavior as his way of saying that she was too weak to fight with him..!

“What’s your problem?!” she walked up to him and jabbed a finger lightly against his chest. “Why are you fighting so aggressively all of a sudden? You weren’t like this before we fell down here.”

“Compensation,” he replied coolly, like the answer was so simple. “Compensation for the lack of members in our party.”

“More like over-compensation. You’re fighting like you’re a one-man team, like my help doesn’t even exist!”

He stared at her. Silently. This was another new behavior he suddenly adopted since the fall: He’d take his time to formulate every response to her, as if every sentence that came out of her mouth was the equivalent to some algebraic equation. 

For someone with Alisa’s level of patience, she easily became more annoyed.

“We’re racing against the clock,” he said, jaw tense. 

“We’ve been racing against the clock, yet you didn’t fight like this even when we were fighting against the culprits!”

“I—” He stopped, head snapping toward the end of the tunnel. Alisa shoved her own frustration with him under the surface, still respecting that his sharp senses must’ve caught something. Tentatively, his hands tensed on the hilt of his sword as he yelled, “Who’s there?”

Stepping out from behind a large rock—or maybe it was a corner—were two figures. Alisa recognized them to be G and S, the ones cooperating with the ex-jaegers. 

“Sharp senses, kid,” the woman complimented Rean, confidently closing the distance between the two groups. “But don’t mind us. Please do continue your little lover’s quarrel.”

Oh, Alisa wished it was as simple as that.

“As if we’re going to ignore the people responsible for potentially inciting a war,” Alisa huffed, readying her bow. “You’re coming with us!”

G looked unimpressed. “Bold words coming from the little girl who fainted from seeing a little blood.”

Alisa didn’t rise to the bait, choosing to carefully watch the enemies to measure their odds of winning a battle against these characters. G wielded a gun and was probably still winded from their previous battle. Likewise could be said for Alisa and Rean. The only one who wasn’t disheveled was the woman with a sword and scars to prove that she’d seen her own fair share of fights. 

They were disadvantaged, but there was also nothing they could do but press forward, right? 

The sound of a gunshot marked the beginning of battle, metal clanging with metal when Rean blocked the bullet with his sword. Immediately, S advanced toward them in an instant, stopping just outside of Rean’s range. Her sword was shorter than his tachi, so Alisa had to question why the woman chose that particular spot to swing her sword down, only to watch her blade suddenly snap and extend, slicing the air toward her opponent. 

Rean’s reflexes were thankfully nothing to scoff at, twisting his arm so his tachi could block the attack and immediately prepared to counterattack. S only grinned, seemingly enjoying this like it was just a simple match as their swords continued to meet each other at every strike.

The duel between the two swordsmen was like some kind of wild dance, sparks flying at every few seconds while both their bodies moved to cover every inch of the limited space that this tunnel provided them. 

Alisa couldn’t even shoot her bow, their turbulent movements being too unpredictable for her to attack without worrying she might accidentally hit her ally. The fact that G hadn’t triggered his gun again showed she wasn’t the only one cautious of friendly fire to the swordsmen fighting between them.

She’d be better off sticking with arts, to enhance Rean’s strength and to—

But then the higher elements decided to screw with her, draining the rest of her EP in one moment. Oh, the universe really wanted to mess with her in these past 24 hours, didn’t it?

Unfortunately, before she could even think about using an EP charge, G raised his gun again. Realizing that he was getting ready to seize an opening, Alisa fumbled for her bow and aimed it at the man like an idiot.

She was well aware of the vast difference in speed between a bullet shot from a gun and an arrow shot from a bow; her arrows couldn’t hope to accomplish anything before G’s bullet lodged itself in some flesh or at least distracted Rean enough for S to unleash a final blow.

Combat really wasn’t her strong suit; she had no idea what was the right decision to take in this situation. Things were easier when she could just link and immediately understand what was needed—

Wait.

The combat link. Right. That was also an option that could make her position in this fight 100% easier. But, given how things were incredibly strained between them, they risked the link shattering. From what she’d heard from Laura and Fie, a shattered link would stun them at the very least, which could very well make them lose the battle.

At the same time, Alisa had to admit that she was going to be mostly useless in this battle without a link. Maybe that would’ve been okay if they were only fighting S, but G could prove to be a variable that could checkmate them. 

Yeah… This ARCUS link between her and Rean was pretty much needed in this fight at the very least. 

Okay. That was okay, she just needed to not shatter the link; to not let her complicated feelings toward Rean not interfere with their link. That was doable. Surely her sense of self-preservation would allow it this one time. 

“Rean, link with me?” She wanted to ignore how she sounded doubtful in her own suggestion. 

“Yeah!” he quickly gritted out through his teeth, blocking another strike from S. Even he knew that a combat link would be extremely  helpful right now. 

“Okay,” she said, more to herself. She took a deep breath, reaching her combat link out, connecting with Rean’s and—  

 

Ț̷͇̭͍̪͔͇͍̠̲̘̦͔͕̉̄̎̑̃H̸̤̙̖̄͒͋̍U̶̢̡̙͎̺̜̠̭̞̣̤͈̖͑͋͋͛̌̓̎͊͜͝M̴̡͚͙͕͇̣̖̝̾͆̂͂͆͆̚͠͝P̴̗̣͐͐̾̅̔̐̚͠

 

Cold water washed over her—or at least that’s what she suddenly felt, as if the ground abruptly decided to split underneath her and drop her into a frozen lake, crushing and suffocating her lungs—

Damn it, this wasn’t real! She could still see ahead of her! She didn’t remember when her knees hit the ground, but she could still see all the rocks of the tunnel she should still be in..! She could still see S and G, standing like there was no problem..! She could still see Rean, collapsed by S’ feet and struggling to breathe—

Speaking of which, why couldn’t Alisa get any air into her lungs? Why did she feel so cold? Did G do something without her noticing?

Her vision was darkening, quickly erasing everyone in her sight, much to her rising panic. She felt like she was going to… die.  

Was she going to die? Die before any of her feelings ever got resolved? 

S H A T T E R

The sound of something akin to glass shattering rang through her ears and bounced around her skull, followed by the feeling of needles prickling every inch of her body. Apparently, this finally gave her body the cue to breathe, loosening death’s grip on her. Despite this, however, her body increasingly became numb to her commands, not moving even as she poured every ounce of her will into standing up.

No..!

She was still in a battle with the culprits, right? She couldn’t just stop and let them kill her here..!

But her consciousness was drawn away, lulled into darkness. Still panicking, her racing thoughts tried to grasp onto anything to wake her up. Unfortunately, nothing could beat the temptation of sleep at the moment, even when two very alarming thoughts crossed her mind.

One: Her combat link with Rean must’ve been severed.

Two: She wasn’t the one who severed it…

 

---

---

 

A cave in.

This was not planned. 

As far as Scarlet knew, everyone—including that big-ass spider—had fallen through the ground, getting separated somewhere in their descent. That was how she found herself alone with Gideon in some naturally-made underground tunnel network, trying to find a way out. 

“My apologies, S. I didn’t expect the structure of the Ancient Quarry to fall so easily, especially after testing the integrity of the structure earlier this week.” Gideon was honest and always made his thoughts and feelings clear. He also knew when he made a mistake. Such traits were not necessary to being a terrorist, but they were parts that she respected about the man. 

Moments like these reminded Scarlet of how she got along with Gideon, despite the whole conflict between her, him, and the demonic flute.

“It’s fine, just a minor inconvenience,” she replied, patting off any dust and debris in her hair. “Since neither of us got hurt, we shouldn’t have much trouble getting ourselves out of here. If we run into vengeful ex-jaegers, we can kill them. If we run into that djinn spider, we can kill it. If we run into those students, we can knock them out. Even if we’re still stuck here at night, we know C will eventually arrive to dig us out.”

It was really no big deal. At least they got their job in Nord done. Sure, she’ll probably have to postpone a drinking match she was supposed to have with V today, but that was easily fixable.

…So why was Gideon pacing around, clearly upset? He of all people should know that these plans would never get perfect results.

“I agree with most of the things you said with one exception.” He was looking at her with one of his eyebrows raised. “Forget knocking those students out, we’ll have to kill them.”

What.

“They’re just kids who don’t want their homes to be ruined by war,” she casually shrugged, hiding how absurd she thought his suggestion was. “It’s not like they’re out here to hunt us down and ruin the rest of our plans.”

Plus, weren’t they Crow’s classmates or friends or something? As much as he denied caring about his illusion of a life back at Thors, he couldn’t pretend that he was not spending a bit more time there than he had to.

“The same kids here have disrupted the operation at Celdic two months ago,” Gideon argued calmly, offering her his reasoning. “Plus, remember that aqua-haired brat? Based on how she figured out my connection to the robberies at Celdic, she’s definitely White Rabbit of the Ironbloods. It’d benefit the ILF greatly if she was eliminated.”

Scarlet whistled at that. That girl looked like she was twelve. Leave it to their good friend Chancellor Osborne to turn a child into a spy. 

“Then we only kill her if we see her. Our priority is to escape.” As a terrorist dead set on revenge, Scarlet would like to say that she was ruthless. However, she’d rather not increase her kill count when it wasn’t necessary.

Gideon relented a bit, but no part of him looked convinced. “I don’t want their interruptions in our plans to become a pattern. Two times in a row feels like it would be a stretch to call a coincidence. What if— Wait…” His speech devolved into soft mutters, letting himself work through a proposal. “So we’ve established that there’s already a spy in the ILF. What if that spy is involved in those students’ field studies, hence why they’ve encountered us twice already?”

Scarlet might’ve actually put some thought into that theory if she didn’t already know that she was the spy he was talking about. She thought through all her potential responses cautiously, making sure she didn’t accidentally expose herself. “If that was true, then wouldn’t it make more sense for the spy to report our activities to Osborne instead of just letting some random group of students handle it?”

“Hm, you’re right,” he sighed. “But I still feel like something suspicious is going on with that class…”

“There’s no use thinking about it. For now,” she added, just to placate the man. “Anyway—”

“—like my help doesn’t even exist!”

“—We’re racing against the clock—” 

“— been racing against the clock, yet you didn’t fight—!”

Voices. Quietly, she and Gideon hugged the rocky wall, looking over the corner toward the commotion. In the distance, they saw the students they had encountered earlier. She had to shoot Gideon a look that she was still firm on her position to not kill these kids. 

“I—” The voice stopped, only to suddenly speak louder. “Who’s there?”

Already caught. Impressive for some students.

The small talk afterwards wasn’t exactly memorable to Scarlet, especially when she was suddenly engaged with a fight that got her blood pumping. Tachi-boy was fast and strong, and he surprisingly fought more fiercely when compared to his earlier fight against the ex-jaegers. Of course, his strength wasn’t quite up to par with Scarlet’s yet, but he did keep up a good fight when she was disadvantaged (fighting in a tight space with an extendable sword was not ideal).

She was about to stop holding back when he suddenly staggered for seemingly no reason. He had just parried off one of her attacks, so he was supposed to follow up with another attack, probably a sword thrust. Instead, he crashed into the ground, breathing heavily and clutching his chest like he was about to have a heart attack.

Briefly, she wondered if she somehow managed to stab him through the chest without noticing, but then a loud shatter broke her out of her thoughts. The link connecting the boy and girl suddenly vanished, and Scarlet’s best guess was that the link was the source of the high-pitched sound and could be related to how they were reacting right now. 

(Though she couldn’t say for sure because the most knowledge she had about these ARCUS units were from Crow, and he didn’t exactly go too deep into detail about their mechanisms).

“Shame it ended before any sort of climax,” she sighed, putting her sword away. She wasn’t anything like a battle maniac, but she did find enjoyment in some fights and didn’t like it when her battles ended abruptly. She placed a hand on her hip as she turned around to face Gideon. “Alright G, let’s move on—”

He shifted his gun to point at her. 

Correction: His gun pointed past her. Suddenly she could sense a presence behind her, one that definitely wasn’t there a moment ago.

“Who are you?!” Gideon demanded, waving the gun around like it had the power to demand answers. Perhaps it did for the ordinary person, but whoever was behind her held enough strength with his mere presence alone. It was enough to freeze her at her feet, and it wouldn’t be surprising if bullets were meaningless to this person.

“Me? I’m just a normal traveling priest, haha!”

Huh..?

That voice. That. Voice.

It fucking couldn’t be. 

She dared to turn around. Only for her eyes to confirm her fear.

Gunther Fucking Barkhorn. 

What the hell was he doing here?!

“Oh, is that you, Scarlet?” He was laughing and grinning like they were old friends. In reality, she’d probably only spoken to him once or twice, before she had even realized what title he held. “It’s been a while!”

Oh Aidios. This was a disaster. They were doomed.

The sound of more steps echoed through the tunnel, distracting her before her mind could even figure out how to respond. “Rean! Alisa!” their voices called out, six figures coming into view. The group consisted of the remaining students and two tied-up ex-jaegers.

This was their cue to leave. With all her willpower, Scarlet turned away from the priest and sprinted toward Gideon, grabbing his arm and forcing him to match her pace. 

“What the—? S, White Rabbit is right there!” he seethed at how they were missing this opportunity to kill the ironblood, but he couldn’t do anything because he was no match for Scarlet’s strength. 

“G, I’m only going to say this once,” she hissed at him, leaving no room in her voice for noncompliance. “That man back there is a fucking Dominion! Unless you suddenly gained the powers of some divine entity and really want to pick a fight with the gralsritter, then we’re leaving!”

To her relief, Gideon understood and shut his mouth, now willingly running with her for their lives.

---

By some miracle, they didn’t encounter the students or Gunther in the tunnels again. After many hours, they finally managed to escape the Ancient Quarry by nightfall. They had just enough time to arrive at their designated meeting area, where they would reconvene with Crow. 

“Sounds like you guys had it rough today,” he said, after Gideon had recounted all the events that happened in Nord. “Nonetheless, the plan was a resounding success.”

Gideon huffed, clearly not sharing the same sentiment. “Keep your pity to yourself. Sure, we’ve demonstrated how he faces the risk of divided ranks without warning, but our main objective was for him to let his guard down. On that front, it’s a resounding failure.”

“Lighten up, G,” Scarlet shrugged, slightly smirking. “We can still work this outcome to our advantage in the future.”

“It doesn't matter anymore. We can't change what happened,” he tiredly sighed, yet his eyes were sharp and full of determination “What does matter is that we begin making preparations for our next plan. Also, C, have you made any progress on finding that mole?”

A bead of sweat trickled down Scarlet’s temple as she listened to Crow hum in thought. She was sure she covered her tracks well, but she would be a fool to underestimate him.

“I do have my suspicions.”

She couldn’t help but feel like he was staring at her through his helmet. There was no way he…

“What do you think, S?”

He knew. The slight teasing sound at the way he said her letter screamed that this cheeky bastard knew and wanted to turn this into a game that would end with her exposing herself.

This was so… sudden. With no forewarning or anything. She didn’t know how to respond for half of a minute. 

“I think we don’t have a mole.” She decided that there was no point trying to hide when the leader knew and when said leader was Crow. That guy beat her in the art of deception and he had a knack for getting people to spill crumbs of the truth; he’d be able to tell or find out if she was lying. “If you’re referring to the missing flute, then I simply took it away before it could become a liability. I didn’t sell the ILF out to the enemy.”

A beat of silence. 

“What the hell, Scarlet?!” Gideon’s face slowly morphed from shock to looking betrayed, stomping toward to shout in her face if not for how Crow grabbed his shoulder and held him in place. “That flute was an asset, not a liability!”

“It gives us more troubles than it’s worth,” she retorted, unfazed by his piercing glare. “I told you before that it’s too unpredictable; it has more potential to backfire on us than to actually help us. Not to mention, if the Gralsritter knew we had it, they’d hunt us down—at which point we’d have to give up even thinking about assassinating Osborne. So I took things into my own hands for the ILF’s sake,” she emphasized the last word, trying to persuade them that she was still on their side. 

Crow crossed his arms as his voice filtered through the helmet, though there was no hint in his tone that indicated what his opinion on the matter was. “So you did it for the benefit of the ILF?”

“I have no regrets. I would do it again and still sincerely call you all my comrades.”

“Bullshit,” Gideon hissed, body tense with the indignation of betrayal. It must’ve taken a lot of self restraint for him to make no extra move to physically lash out at her. Scarlet herself had to make a conscious effort to not wince, knowing that she destroyed any friendship between them.

Stiffly, she turned her attention back to Crow, waiting for his response.

“Were you also the one who leaked information to the Icy Maiden about our operation in Celdic?”

Oh crap. She forgot about that.

“It was part of my first attempt to get rid of the flute,” she confessed, shoulders slumping in guilt. If there was any chance for redemption earlier, there was certainly none now because—

“You colluded with the enemy— With an Ironblood?!” Gideon roared, bristling with rage and disbelief. 

It was one thing to dispose of the flute by herself. It was another thing to sabotage their operation to get rid of the flute. In hindsight, she should’ve never agreed to work with Rufus Albarea to get the RMP to confiscate the flute in such a roundabout way, but she’d been so fixated with the disposal of the flute that she hadn’t been acting with much sense back then.

And now she was going to pay for it.

“Where is the flute now?” Crow’s voice was calm. Patient. Blank. She hated when he intentionally made himself hard to read, and the helmet sure wasn’t helping. She’d rather see his disappointment than be subjected to paranoidly wondering what the hell was cooking in his head. 

“I—”

“With me.”

The three whipped their heads around to see they had a one-man audience appear out of nowhere. Scarlet immediately froze in her place, muscles stiffening up in shock and fear when she saw Gunther Barkhorn standing a short distance away from them. No one noticed when he got here, nor how long he’d been listening to them.

In his hand, he was twirling an object familiar to all of them: The demonic flute. It would’ve looked ominous if not for the fact that there was a bright red, puffy bow wrapped around it. 

“Who are you?” To an amateur, Crow was the picture of relaxed and undaunted, but Scarlet could tell his guard was raised up high and over the sky.

“Just a traveling priest,” the old man shrugged, facing them all with a grin despite how only hostility was radiating off of the three terrorists.

“And a Dominion,” Scarlet curtly added.

“Eh, that’s just a side thing. I’m near retirement anyway.” Scarlet’s mind had to do a few mental gymnastics to process a Dominion just retiring as if they weren’t stuck with the job— the stigma for their entire life. “Anyway, Scarlet, I’m a little disappointed in you. Future-squires like you should know to keep certain details a secret.”

What the hell?! “I don’t think you got the memo, but I quit years ago. I can do whatever I damn want with whatever knowledge I gained!”

Gunther pouted—this grown-ass old man actually pouted like he was some kid who was denied to be given candy. “Yeah, it was a shame that you left. You had so much potential that I was hoping I’d have you as a squire for a bit. Though, you probably would’ve ended up being Wazy’s squire since your personalities complement each other quite nicely…”

“Should you really be saying this out loud?!”

Seriously, wasn’t Wazy supposed to be undercover somewhere? Ugh… This was why Dominions needed squires. They were so out of hand that they needed someone to keep them in check!

Wait, what was she thinking? This was none of her business anymore! This wasn’t like her at all. She was so flustered and frustrated; she couldn’t think straight anymore.

Thankfully, Crow cut into this mess of a conversation. “So, Mr. Traveling-priest-Dominion-guy, what business do you have with us? You have no obligation to do the work of an Imperial dog, so you can’t be here because of the stunt we pulled off today. You also clearly have the artifact in your possession, and I can assure you that our group has no other artifacts in our sleeve.” He slightly tilted his head to face Gideon. “Right, G?”

“Yeah,” he sighed, looking less angry. When faced with someone who had a presence as intimidating and powerful as the 8th Dominion, he probably realized it was best that they had nothing that the Gralsritter would want to tear out of their cold, dead hands.

Gunther hummed, still sounding playful despite how no one wanted him here. “There are a few reasons why I’m in Nord, but most are not relevant to why I interrupted your meeting. The reason why I’m here, specifically in front of you folks, is because I thought it was a wonderful opportunity to show Scarlet my gratitude for turning the flute into the church.”

Scarlet almost sputtered in protest, knowing for sure she never handed the damned object to anyone related to the church. 

“You even wrapped it up neatly with this nice bow and gifted some expensive chocolate along with it. I heard it was delicious,” Gunther chuckled, finally stopping the twirl of his fingers to let the flute rest flatly in his palm. With his other hand, he took out a paper. “There was also a letter attached to it with your name on it. Let’s see… It says here that you apologize for leaving so suddenly because you had personal affairs to tend to. Such affairs led you to a group in possession of an artifact.

”You decided to join this group until you could get your hands on the artifact and bring it into the Church’s custody. The flute here is proof of that and you hope this makes up for the time the Gralsritter wasted on training you. And then you sign off with your name.”

What..? Looking at the letter, she noticed that the writer had managed to perfectly replicate her own handwriting and framed it so it sounded like she was only acting under good, selfless intentions. Since Scarlet had never seen this letter before in her life, that would imply that this was all Rufus’ doing, considering how he was the one she gave the flute to.

…Why the hell would Rufus do that?

“I was surprised to see such a talented young lad quit,” Gunther continued, pocketing the letter gently. “But it makes sense when you have personal affairs to attend to. Though, judging by the contents of your writing, it appears that you’re done with whatever business you had.” He eyed the other two members of the ILF before giving Scarlet his full attention. “I just want to let you know that there’s still a seat open for you.”

What..? No fucking way..!

Her heart was pounding as she stared at the Dominion. That was impossible. But there was no trace of a lie present in his face. Granted, these Dominions were notorious with their ways of deceiving the public, but her instincts told her that he was being completely sincere at this moment. ‘

She… could still go back?

She had to mentally shake herself out of her tempting thoughts because there was no way she could just abandon the ILF like that. She’d spent years with these people, poured every ounce of sweat, tears, and blood into their plans..! She couldn’t just leave because a stubborn part of her still clung onto her dream of being a squire.

Her mouth opened, voice hesitantly crawling out to officially decline her old dream and say the whole letter was a lie, but— 

“Scarlet, from now on, you are no longer a member of the ILF.”

Whiplash.

All eyes stared at Crow, who made the decision for her. His gaze only rested on her, staring so deeply back into her eyes that she could actually picture the face he was making behind that helmet. 

A smirk. He was smirking, she could tell. Why he was making such an expression was beyond her because she played a vital role in the ILF’s future plans. To just trade her off to the church without any fight would be detrimental to their goals..!

“What about the ILF?!” she refused, marching up to Crow and grabbing him by the collar. “What about my revenge—my grief?! You can’t just expect me to let all of that go!”

She still hated Osborne! She still hated how he carelessly built a railroad through her home and ruined her family! Her hatred could never be let go until the man was dead!

(Right..?)

“You can and you did,” Crow replied calmly, plucking her trembling fingers and holding them in place with his hand. “You already let go the moment you decided to prioritize the stealing of the flute over the ILF’s own plans. Whether you know it or not, there’s a part of you that still clings to beliefs irrelevant to the ILF. There’s still a part of you that yearns for a life you can still get back.” He let go of her hand. “The ILF is for those who have no future; for those looking to die. We have no need for you.”

He turned away from her just as she felt something wet slide down her cheek. Her hand lifted to touch her face, discovering that there were… tears, even from the eye under the eyepatch. She was… crying, and she didn’t even know if it was out of sadness for being kicked out of the ILF or joy for not abandoning her long lost desire.

This couldn’t actually be happening…

“Despite the evidence of your betrayal, I know you didn’t truly betray us, S. For that, you are still- you will always be called our comrade,” Crow’s voice sounded distant as he started walking away from her, signaling Gideon to follow him. “I may have dismissed you from the group, but I’m really just giving you a role that no one else can take: I’m asking you to move forward and live for the rest of us, who are marching toward our deaths.”

Scarlet gave into the uncontrollable tremors that shook through her body, needing to use her sword as a cane to keep herself standing. She didn’t know what to feel, still reeling back from the shock that she was actually being let go from the ILF, whether she liked it or not.

This… Wasn’t her choice. Being forced to suddenly change the trajectory of her life without a choice would require a lot of thinking and the fact that part of it was because of Rufus, a guy she barely knew, she really didn't know what to feel. She didn’t completely like this despite the fact that she couldn’t deny how a tiny part of herself was satisfied with this outcome. 

“Move forward..?” 

But she had to accept this because no logical leader would keep a traitor in their ranks without punishment. Even if Gunther hadn’t appeared today, she was doomed to be cut off from the ILF. Plus… her friend was sincerely entrusting her with such an insurmountable task that no one else in the ILF could do. She couldn’t refuse. 

Managing to smile through the whirlwind of conflicting feelings in her chest, she snorted fondly, “Leave it to you to dump the most impossible of tasks onto someone else?”

“Eh, you’re better suited for it,” he waved her off. To his side, Gideon’s posture was mildly tamer compared to earlier, and she could sense that a part of him accepted this decision too, even though he might still hate her for what she did. 

“Cr- C… Thank you.” She rubbed the tears away. “Oh, but… Before we part ways, There’s something you should know first.”

He stopped in his stride, indicating that she still had his full attention.  

“Rufus Albarea… He was the one who convinced me to steal the flute. I would be wary of him if I were you.” Her mind still couldn’t wrap around why the man took actions that seemed like he wanted her to leave the ILF, and she would probably never find out. She could only hope that if Rufus had ulterior motives regarding the ILF, then Crow and everyone else would be prepared.

“Got’cha. Well then, farewell, S.”

“Good riddance, traitor,” Gideon added his own piece, but his tone didn’t hold as much bite as she expected. Maybe he heard something from their conversation that changed his opinion of her actions, if only just by a little. That was unexpected, but also sent a small wave of relief to Scarlet.

It was only a shame that Vulcan wasn't here to see her off too, because this was probably going to be the last time they were going to be together.

“What’s with sounding like we’ll never meet again?” she scoffed, waving back at them with a smirk. “If either of you are still living, drinks are on me. See you.”

And that was the end of her life with the ILF.

An odd sense of peace settled within her. She thought she would’ve been more upset with being stripped with the right to help kill Osborne. Instead, she just felt empty… 

(And free.)

It was a strange feeling.

Lost, Scarlet turned around to face Gunther, hoping the man would give her some comfort that the path she was taking right now wasn’t some sort of mistake. She was greeted with the sight of the man standing and closing his eyes, pretending like he didn’t hear her entire exchange with her former co-workers. 

“Hey.” The man didn’t respond, still choosing to keep his eyes shut. Scarlet furrowed her eyebrows at him until she heard a quiet snore from him.

…This man actually fell asleep.

She was already regretting everything, but that didn’t stop her from taking her first step forward, away from the life of terrorism.

Sighing, her hands fished around his pockets until she heard the familiar cling of metal. Not-so-carefully (because she didn’t care if he woke up), she plucked the keys out of his pocket. These keys were for the Merkabah.

Usually, the Dominion were supposed to have a crew to pilot the ship, but they sometimes didn’t out of preference. If the latter was the case, well… 

Scarlet was pretty sure she could figure it out.

Notes:

Welp, Scarlet's gone from the ILF! Thanks, Rufus! (Aren't you happy he actually returned the flute like the flawless, noble-hearted person that he is? I think we can all trust him :3)

*SLAM* And that concludes the Nord arc! I'm tired. Thankfully, we're moving onto simpler stuff… Like teenage drama :D

Actual note:
-Since Millium was already part of the party, they managed to figure out that the terrorists were in the Ancient Quarry earlier and arrived their earlier than canon. The cave-in/collapse makes them spend more time in the Ancient Quarry, but the time they hand in the culprits to the military is around the same time they do in canon.

---

To be continued in “Chapter 18 - The Shattered Link”
In which the class slowly learns that they have one more link to fix… Oh and Patrick finally gets his duel with Rean (It goes just about as well as you’d imagine).

Take care, thanks for reading, and I’d appreciate a comment~

Chapter 18: The Shattered Link

Notes:

And now we enter intermission! Or, well, I thought it was intermission but this section just turned out to be part of the Heimdallr chapter. Whatever, in this fic, we're having a whole different arc before Heimdallr starts because a lot of stuff happens here and I can't fit it all in one to two chapters lol.

Also I swear I’m really not trying to make these chapters this long. Seriously, if you need to, take breaks when reading this XD

Here's February's chapter~

The cacophony of human voices, uncoordinated footsteps, and revving of engines was too much to bear. The sounds hurt his ears and hurt his head. Elliot couldn’t not run away to a quiet area to escape the dissonance of all the noises in the city. 

That was how he was separated from his sister and got lost in the middle of nowhere at the age of five. 

Elliot didn’t know how long he was frozen in that alley, stuck between wanting to hide from the noise and wanting to find his sister. In the end, what motivated himself to stop hiding was not himself, but some random boy who found him. 

Raven hair and lilac eyes. He’d never seen such a bizarre yet pretty combination of colors on a person before, so Elliot’s curiosity was slightly more piqued than his social anxiety for once. Plus, with such a determined look in his eyes and a kind smile, Elliot felt a little calm in the other’s presence. 

After the boy offered to help him find his sister and created a strange rhythm of noises from knocking against the ground, he held his hand out toward Elliot.

Elliot stared at the proffered hand for half a minute, unsure of what to do. He wasn’t comfortable touching people he wasn’t familiar with. “Do you want me to hold your hand..?”

“Yeah!” The boy grinned so brilliantly and innocently. “Dad said it’s super hard to help people who don’t reach their own hand out.”

They both stared awkwardly at the boy’s hand.

“So, uhh…” With his other hand, the boy awkwardly scratched his cheek. “Reach your hand out?”

Hesitantly, Elliot held his hand out.

 

---

---

---

 

Elliot had a secret. 

Well, it wasn’t really his secret, but he understood how important it was to keep this bit of information under tight wraps. It all started when a boy his age found him lost in some alley in Heimdallr. He wouldn’t recall the details now—disregarding the fact that he’d been too scared at the time to even notice many details—but he could say the story ended on a high note.

He could also say that the story continued. With every passing day, Elliot forgot more and more the faces of the boy and his family, but his desire to thank the boy for reaching his hand out and to know his name never wavered. 

(He'd been too caught up in their quest to find their families and in their eventual family reunions to do either back then. With how shy Elliot used to be and still was, it was funny how he was able to easily trust some nameless boy with his safety and still want to see him.)

Unfortunately, he never saw that boy on the streets of Heimdallr ever again. The only clue he got about the boy’s existence was about a year later, when the newly appointed Chancellor Giliath Osborne’s voice chimed through the orbal radio. 

The visions from his memory were faded, but the voices of the strangers that day were vivid, crystal clear. Perhaps it sounded a little more gruff and intimidating, but he was 90% certain Chancellor Osborne’s voice belonged to the boy’s dad. Knowing that, he thought finding the son would come easily.

Until it turned out that Chancellor Osborne had no records of having a son or even a wife. At least, the newspapers always put the chancellor on the list of desired bachelors, saying nothing about if he had any children. Elliot asked Dad about it a few times, only for the man to strangely make him promise to never say a word of this ever again.

Many years passed and he was sure he’d have to give up on his quest to show gratitude to that boy. He felt a little bad about it but, as he grew up and became more focused on what the heck he wanted to do in the future, he would have to let it go.

Then came the first day of school in Thors, when some stranger tripped on his foot and accidentally pushed Elliot to the ground with him. After cringing in surprise, Elliot opened his eyes to see his old memory play right in front of him. 

Except, this wasn’t a memory. 

There was actually a boy—a teen—with black hair and lilac eyes, sheepishly smiling and holding his hand out to him. 

He couldn’t mistake this. 

He just noted that there were a few differences like how everything about this teen—Rean—was subdued compared to his child counterpart. From the way he breathed and the way he moved, he looked like he was holding back. 

But that was fine. People always change. All that mattered was that he still found the guy and he could finally thank him. Elliot even forgot all his nervousness about entering a military academy in favor of just giving his speech full of gratitude (yes, he made one when he was young and his sister even helped).

He was ready. He waited his whole life for this day, and now he could finally say “thank you.”

Elliot didn’t.

Only because Rean didn’t seem to recognize him at all. How awkward would it be to thank someone for something they didn’t even remember? Was he supposed to start with ' Hey, remember that time you were almost kidnapped with a child? Yeah, that kid back then was me!' or something?

Yeah, no. Elliot’s persistent self-doubt and anxiety said a big no to that. Maybe it was best to keep memories buried, especially if it was traumatizing to Rean. 

At the very least, Elliot was able to conquer his shyness because he was already (kind of) familiar with Rean. Becoming friends with him felt more natural than any friend-making experience he’d anticipated in Thors; the thought of stumbling around and being the school outcast had already faded away. 

It was great. Rean was just as kind and courageous as he remembered, helping him with his studies and helping him move forward whenever his body froze at the thought of fighting a monster in the old schoolhouse. At least Elliot could say that being forced to study at this school instead of being allowed to follow his passion for music wasn’t going to be a complete regret.

And then, two months later, Rean revealed that his family was attacked by jaegers and was later adopted by the Schwarzers. That was when Elliot actually remembered how Dad promised him to never speak of the boy and Chancellor Osborne again.

Therein lay his secret.

He knew Rean was the son of Chancellor Giliath Osborne. 

(Well, he was 99% sure.)

Everything clicked in his mind at that moment. This fact was probably the reason why the chancellor’s family was wiped out of all records, why they were attacked in the first place, and why Rean was under the care of some other family. Being the son of the very controversial chancellor would paint a hefty target on his back, wouldn't it? It would be safe to hide his identity.

This had to be like one of those princess-protection-program plotlines in some fiction books. Except this was real. Not wanting to jeopardize Rean’s safety, Elliot decided to never speak of the incident between them as children even if his gratitude would never be realized. 

But that was okay. Such gratitude didn’t hold a candle to— 

“So… Machias, remember that time your coffee and Jusis’ tea was mysteriously switched?” 

—to how much fun they were having all together as members of Class VII.

Elliot groaned, waking up from his nap on the train. Rubbing his eyes, he drowsily looked to see two of his classmates sitting across from him on the train. Fie was using Machias’ lap as a pillow without his permission while she stared up at him with her usual flat expression. 

“Yeah..?” Putting his book down to the side, Machias frowned at her suspiciously.

“It was my doing.”

“WHAT THE HELL?!” Machias couldn’t move from his position so he settled for sending a scandalized glare down at Fie, only to start feeling guilty because she impressively managed to stare back with puppy-dog eyes while maintaining her flat expression. Looking away, his only defense from such a paradoxical face, he hissed, “Why did you do that— Why are you telling me now?!”

“‘Cuz I was bored.” She was quiet, testing her words, as she swung her legs which were dangling from the edge of the chair. “And ‘cuz I was bored.”

Sitting beside Elliot, Laura stifled a chuckle and paid no heed to Machias’ exasperation. “While I do not agree with the methods, I must admit that it was a nice experiment to get you and Jusis to be more appreciative of the other’s culture.”

“Of all things, you decided to mess with our damned beverages?!”

“Drinks are part of one’s culture, or so Sara says," Fie muttered, lazily staring up at the ceiling. "By the way, how was the tea?”

Machias face contorted into utter disgust. “It was terrible.” After a long pause, all his disgust faded away as he leaned his head against the back of the chair and sighed. “But… It’s bearable.”

"A worthwhile outcome."

"No it wasn't!"

Elliot chuckled, looking between Machias' flustered scowl and the girls' smug grins. After the first (disastrous) field study, he would've never thought the three would get along together. Now, however, they were good friends.

To give Machias some mercy, Elliot shyly piped up, "I agree with Machias. Dad always said that a man's drink should never be messed with."

"Thank you, Elliot!" his friend nodded fervently.

They continued talking about simple stuff, keeping up a light atmosphere until their train finally arrived at Heimdallr. The moment they all walked out of the train, Machias noticed that their next train was already here. At once, they all ran to catch the vehicle, stepping through the side doors just before they shut.

“Look.” Fie pointed at a few seats ahead of them when the train started to move. “It’s the rest of the class.”

True to her keen eye, they saw Group A had also managed to catch the train and had taken their seats. Elliot raised his hand, voice ready to cheerfully greet them.

“Hey—” He froze, noticing the thick tension surrounding the group. No one was talking, a shocking feat considering that Millium was there. Some were even holding onto their breaths as if a small puff of air could set off a bomb. Though oddly enough, despite how they created no noise, Elliot could hear their dissonance.

Clashing. Crackling. Crying. He had no idea how the absence of sound could be as deafening as a hurricane.

The rest of Group B caught on, warily watching the rest of their classmates as they took the seats across the aisle from them. Not even a greeting. Not even Jusis making a shrewd comment about his rival’s appearance. 

Judging by the side glances of some of the members of Group A, it seemed like Emma, Gaius, Jusis, and Millium did want to talk. They just didn’t know if they should break the silence. 

That left Alisa and Rean, sitting right across from each other. The former had her head turned away, stubbornly glaring at the window with a wobbly scowl. The latter had his eyes closed, the only sign that he was awake was how his fingers were tightly gripping his crossed arms.

Did they… Have a fight? It didn’t seem like there would be any other explanation, but it seemed so… intense. He didn’t think anything could beat Jusis and Machias’ hostility toward each other, but this—whatever this was—felt dangerous, though not in a violent way. It was dangerous in a sense that it felt like they were on the verge of losing something important. 

As the hours passed into evening time, no one dared to do anything but observe this unchanging tension. 

The moment the train screeched to a halt at Trista's train station, Alisa was already quickly walking toward the doors at the front of the cart. The rest of the class followed her except Rean, who went in the other direction and left through the doors at the back.

By the time the rest of the class stepped off the train, Rean was already out of sight and Alisa was well on her way toward the fair gates.

“Okay, what the HELL was that?” Machias breathlessly asked, recovering from the enormous tension that seemed to have finally left. 

In a rare display of concern and uncertainty, Jusis admitted, “I don’t know.”

A grimace flashed through Gaius' normally undisturbed face. “It seems they harbor ill feelings toward each other, as evidenced by how their link shattered on the field study.”

The air blasted at them as the train hissed and pushed towards its next stop, leaving the students alone. The clinks and clanks of the wheels against the railroad filled the noise for three long seconds, the exact amount of time for Group B to process this newfound information.

“HUH?!” Machias’ voice echoed through the now empty train station. 

“Wait,” Elliot spoke up, barely disbelieving what he just heard and wanting to make sure he wasn’t just misunderstanding things. “Like, Rean and Alisa failed to link properly?”

Those two?!

Sure, there was the whole incident back on the first day of school which may have caused some tension between them, but they’d already moved on from that. He didn’t think there would be any more problems with the pairing since both tended to be too kind and at least prioritized the safety of everyone over their own misgivings.

Millium smiled but, for once, it didn’t reach her eyes. “Yeah, we found them unconscious! Other than a few cuts and scrapes, the only problem we found from them was that neither of their ARCUS’ would respond to us. After they woke up, neither even tried to talk or even look at us, much less at the other.”

“It’s our guess that their severed link might be related to how they fell unconscious, but we’re not fully sure,” Emma added. 

That sounded… intense. Elliot grimaced just by imagining that scene in his head. Not even Jusis, Machias, Laura, or Fie had a reaction like that when they shattered their links, and they hated each other.

“Perhaps it’s related to Alisa’s family situation?” Jusis suggested, just putting any idea out there no matter how absurd it could be. "She obviously didn’t take what happened to her father too well.”

That statement raised a few eyebrows from Group B. Never before had Alisa’s father been mentioned before; heck, they never heard about him even in news about the Reinford company. 

“That doesn’t explain why Rean’s been acting off, nor why Alisa started to hate him since this morning.” 

“Well—”

A loud cough from Machias interrupted the group. Having their attention, he said, “Before you continue your very interesting conversation, would you mind sharing with the rest of the class what you already know?”

At once, Emma provided a brief summary of what they knew about the situation, starting from when they took their first step into Zender Gate and finishing with the encounter in the Ancient Quarry.

And… Wow, their field study was terrifyingly packed with surprises and near-death experiences. He couldn't believe how they survived unscathed when they had to deal with giant monsters, fake newspaper reporters, war breaking out and cave-ins.

Not to mention how there was also Alisa's father who was apparently not dead, had amnesia, and declared he wanted nothing to do with his daughter. Elliot didn't even know what to think.

If someone Elliot really cared about suddenly stopped caring about him, regardless of amnesia or not, he had no idea what he'd do...

With scrunched up eyebrows, Laura was the first to respond, “I can’t think of anything that could trigger the odd behavior between the two...”

“Hey, wait!” Millium piped up energetically, looking like the answer just dawned on her. “Maybe Alisa finally confessed!”

Emma was shushing her, but she was too late. “Millium! You were supposed to keep that a secret!”

“Oops.”

If Elliot had to be completely honest, he was pretty sure everyone in this class except Rean figured out that Alisa had a crush on him. The surprising part, however, was “She confessed this early?”

He surprised himself by blurting out his inner thoughts.

Machias' eyebrows rose, taking a step back in shock. "Wait, Alisa likes Rean?"

Okay apparently not everyone knew.

"Are you daft? Her feelings are obvious to everyone who has eyes and ears."

"Oh shut up, Albarea!"

Laura coughed, bringing everyone’s attention back to the important issue. “Assuming she confessed, I think we can agree that she was rejected?” 

Shrugging, Fie added. “That’s only if we assume that the problem is because of a confession gone wrong. They could be fighting about somethin' else.”

“No.” Emma anxiously glanced at everyone before she let out a sad sigh. “I didn’t want to say anything before because I didn’t think it was something for me to say but, since the truth’s out of the bag, I’ll just say it now. Alisa did have plans to confess to him last night, I even encouraged her because the atmosphere was perfect. Since then, they’ve been acting distant from everyone. I imagine whatever happened at the Ancient Quarry didn’t help at all...”

So it was safe to assume that Rean rejected her. The reason why he was also acting distant must've been because he was feeling guilty or something else along those lines. 

Elliot looked up at the train station entrance, seeing Alisa’s lonely figure disappear through the doors. “So… Do we just wait for them to get over it and the situation will blow over by itself?”

He was met with a few faithful nods and a few uncertain shrugs.

---

The disturbance in class dynamics was palpable when dinnertime rolled around. Sharon was missing, probably dealing with Alisa, which meant that Class VII—minus two classmates—had to prepare for dinner themselves. It wasn’t a big deal, considering they'd been making dinner for themselves before Sharon arrived, but when they filled the table with plates and food…

There were two unclaimed plates, two empty seats. 

Ever since everyone made up in the second field study, they’d grown used to eating with the entire class for dinner. To be back to not having a full attendance because of unstable bonds… to eat while their other classmates weren’t… It felt wrong.

“Man… I don’t like this, it’s always more fun eating with everyone!” Millium frowned, poking at her food with a fork while staring at the empty spaces at the table. The behavior was unusual, considering she would usually be gobbling down the meal once it was freshly cooked. “Can’t they make up already?”

Elliot sweatdropped, feeling a little bad for her because he was well aware of how she had trouble understanding things related to emotions.

“The desires of the heart are delicate,” Gaius kindly responded to her, but he couldn't hide the slight pinch to his eyebrows. “To be denied would take time to be mended.”

Leaning back on his chair and not touching his plate, Jusis huffed, “Yes, and it often takes more than 24 hours to move on and accept it.” 

Millium groaned and slumped against the table, agonizing over the thought of being patient. “Okay, I think I get why we should give Alisa time, but what about Rean? His heart isn’t broken, right?”

“He looks like he needs some time to himself as well. Plus, we’re only assuming that he only rejected her confession. Maybe something more happened?” Emma piped up, also fumbling with her utensils but not using them for their actual purpose. “Regardless of the reason, he has the right to have alone time.”

Machias scoffed, arms crossed. “Knowing him, he’s probably blaming himself for being true with his feelings, which he really shouldn’t be. We can give both of them tonight to brood, but if they don’t change tomorrow, then I say we hammer them with emotional support even if they’re kicking and screaming.”

Elliot nervously rubbed the back of his head while letting out a brief chuckle. Now that was an image he never thought would ever cross his mind. “Hopefully we won’t have to resort to such extreme measures…”

“I dunno.” Fie’s voice was muffled because she was resting her head flatly against the table, completely ignoring the food beside her. “They’re both pretty stubborn.”

Everyone agreed to that, fading into silence as they mulled the situation more in their heads...

TICK

TOCK

TICK

The tocks of the clock ticked on, the volume more pronounced when no activity was happening. Elliot found himself poking at a piece of meat on his plate for every second that ticked away, too absorbed in wondering how things would change now that Rean and Alisa were on rough terms.

These kinds of things were normal for teenagers, right? Sure, the rest of the class was probably going to unwillingly watch drama unfold between their two friends, but it would all blow over soon, right? Then, everything could go back to normal. 

…

A light sigh escaped Elliot's lips.

Maybe Rean rubbed off on him a bit too much but… he wanted to help them right now, in any way possible. The fact that no one touched their food because of the situation, acting like someone just died, only motivated him further to relieve his friends’ stress.

“I’ll at least bring them their food,” he stood up from his seat, eyes sparkling in kind determination. 

“Ooh! Me too!” Millium jumped up happily, scooping up Alisa's plate into her hand.

The chair behind Laura screeched as it was pushed back. “I do as well.”

“Ditto.”

At this point, everyone was out of their chairs and standing by the door to the lobby, saying they wanted to help bring the food upstairs. They were already looking a little more animated than before.

Jusis shook his head at them in disapproval, even though he was also standing. “It does not take eight people to bring two plates of food to two people.”

“Got any better ideas?” Fie retorted flatly, mirroring his tone.

“...No.”

Elliot failed to hide quiet chuckles along with Emma, while Gaius, Laura, and Machias held amused smirks. Millium was the only one who looked confused, not seeing anything wrong with so many people doing such a simple task.

This class really came a long way in such a short span of time. Elliot remembered the first day of school, full of doubt for joining this class. Considering how his father had forced him to join a military academy instead of following his dreams, he never thought he would find a place to belong here. The tension between various members of the class on the first day certainly didn't help his eagerness to be here. 

Right now, however, feeling the kind warmth that came from everyone’s concern and care for each other… Elliot could somewhat say that joining Thors Military Academy— joining Class VII was no regret.

(It only felt a little wrong to be here because he wasn't here by choice, unlike everyone else...)

“Well,” Elliot started, holding Rean’s plate in his hands. “I guess we should—”

hm…  mm…

hm… mm… hm… hm

A strange buzzing of distorted humming whispered in his ears. Each hum was sharply detached from the next note in uneven intervals; as a whole, these sounds didn’t have any direction. 

Elliot doubted this peculiar noise was intended to form any kind of music, yet he was strangely entranced by these sounds, instinctually feeling like they had some sort of purpose… 

hm… mm… mm…

The only noteworthy thing Elliot could pick out from the voice was that it sounded feminine. Barely. And that could mean nothing if his assumption that a human was making this sound was wrong— 

“Elliot?” Gaius’s soothing voice broke him out of his mesmerization with this strange, broken melody.

“Is someone humming?” It was a rhetorical question. He knew the source of the sound didn’t come from any of his classmates. He only asked because of his usual self-doubt. “I can hear humming.”

hm… mm…

Everyone stiffened, closing their eyes and straining their ears to hear.

mm… hm… mm… mm…

“Holy—” Machias hissed out, keeping his voice low so they could all still hear it. “What the hell’s making that sound?!”

“Definitely not from any of us,” Fie muttered. Her hands brushed against the hilts of the gunblades resting at her hips, as if expecting danger. "A disembodied voice."

"Disembodied?! Don't say stuff like that!"

As much as Elliot didn't want to believe it, that statement was accurate. Unless someone was hiding in walls, just messing with them. But even if that were true… How could anyone distort their voice like this?

Millium was visibly shivering, eyes darting side to side to make sure she was aware of everything happening in this room. “Th- That sounds kinda human, right? But that would mean there’s someone else he—”

hm… hm… hm.

Elliot blinked.

No, actually, the lights flickered off. Then on. Then off. And On. Repeatedly.

The humming also ceased. 

“First, there are strange sounds. Now, the lights are acting up?” came Laura’s voice. In the brief periods of light, everyone watched her approach one of the few orbal lamps in the room, observing the device carefully but not touching it due to her ‘condition’ with technology. “I assume this isn’t some common malfunction of orbal technology?”

Machias frantically shook his head incredulously. “No, this is way too strange to be some simple malfunction! No orbal device here should sound so hauntingly human!”

“Wait a minute! I remember something like this happened before!” Millium gasped, now fearfully clinging onto the person nearest to her, which happened to be Gaius. “What if… What if the ghost’s back?!”

That was the moment the lights decided to shut off for good, blanketing them in the cold embrace of darkness.

Elliot was starting to completely share Millium’s panic now. The absence of light  was prickling against his skin like insects crawling on him. He couldn't suppress the violent shudder that sparked up his spine no matter how much he wanted to. 

Thankfully, a faint glow of white light then manifested from Emma’s orbal staff, strong enough to light up everyone’s faces at the least. 

"What is that?" Laura's eyes narrowed as she calmly pointed at something at the center of the room, more confused about the situation than scared. Elliot's gaze hesitantly trailed toward the direction of her pointed finger and—

Gasped.

The light's reach barely extended to their dining table, revealing a shadowy humanoid figure, casually sitting on the edge and slouching towards them.

"That's the—!"

"GHOST!"

A combination of shrill screams suddenly bristled everyone’s skin and Elliot was only half aware that he contributed to it. At once, Laura and Fie pushed themselves toward the front of the group, standing between the rest of the class and the shadowy figure. 

“Is that the ghost you were talking about earlier?” Gaius remained composed, helping the more jittery classmates calm down a bit.

"Y- yeah…"

Alarm bells rang in Elliot’s head, screaming at him to leave, but his eyes were oddly fixated on the ghost. Last time, it only consisted of black, wispy smoke, loosely staying condensed in the shape of a tall humanoid figure with elongated limbs and fingers. 

This ghost, however, wasn't entirely shrouded in the black smokey wisps; in fact, the swirling blackness acted like a hooded cloak, wafting around and covering what they assumed to be the ghost's head, chest, abdomen, and down to the knees. Peeking outside of the cloak were normally proportioned, translucent limbs, faintly glowing a pale white light.

"'Looks a bit different than I remember," Fie commented, unfazed. 

Elliot agreed with her statement (but could not, unfortunately, relate to her reaction). If this was the same ghost, it was like its true form had manifested.

Without prompt, the ghost's head tilted up, shadows creeping away from its pale chin and revealing a mouth twirled up in a small (too innocent) smile. Elliot wasn't sure because of the black wisps shrouding the figure, but he thought he could see a black lock of hair clinging to the side of its pale face.

"What a presence…" Gaius whispered in awe, making Elliot want to scream again because this was definitely not the time to gawk!

Emma frowned, narrowing her eyes at the ghost. "This is—"

A sudden small gust of wind briefly swirled around the room—something that shouldn't have happened because the windows were closed— 

At once, the cold wind snapped backwards at them, everyone's hair flapping backwards, just as red glowing lights flashed at them blankly from beneath the shadowy hood.

In Elliot's frankly terrified opinion, this was starting to look more like a grim reaper than a ghost. Not like it meant anything because the implications of meeting either could spell all their dooms, but— 

His feet were already moving toward the door, snapping his hand at the handle to at least create an escape route.

The door didn't budge.

"It appears that we are trapped," came Jusis' very insightful comment.

"Go away ghost..! We don't taste good!" At this point, Millium was a wailing mess, and Elliot could relate because he wanted to cry. 

“Uh, Emma…” Machias looked between the phantom and their class president, noting that the former had yet to make a move. Prominent drops of sweat were forming at his temple. “Can’t you do some magic stuff to get rid of that thing?!”

The witch anxiously shook her head, biting her bottom lip to help keep her nerves in check. “I don’t know… I don’t even think it’s a good idea to aggravate it because it might be too powerful for us to handle, not to mention that we’re not in a good place to fight. At least it's docile.”

Uh… Yeah, that would be bad. If they went on an all out attack on this thing in their dining room, then the entire dorm would probably be destroyed in the process. 

"Well, what if it decides to stop being docile?!"

Laura's grip on her sword was still steady as she asked, “Did you not say that a simple time art from Sharon was enough to get rid of it last time?” 

“Obviously that’s not a permanent solution. Plus, it seems to have… evolved, so we don’t know what’s capable of affecting it anymore,” Jusis pointed out, though his hand was already holding his ARCUS. Honestly, Elliot felt a little silly at the moment, watching as mostly everyone else had prepared themselves to fight the ghost while he was just lamely holding onto Rean’s plate like some kind of life line. 

“Then—”

Movement from the ghost’s right arm got everyone to shut up, as they cautiously tried to predict what it was doing. The pale, semi-transparent appendage raised itself and the edges of its hand spread out, fanning out five of its supposed fingers. Slowly, four fingers flexed into its palm. Only one finger stayed up, angled parallel to the ground and pointed at the whole class.

hm…  hm… hm…  hm…  hm…

The slow hums from before were emitted by the ghost, still holding no particular pattern that Elliot could decipher. It seemed repetitive, but his gut was telling him these sounds weren't intended to be simple repetition. If it was, then he couldn't explain why he found himself as mesmerized by these sounds as before.

Plus, something about this was tugging at his memory...

“AH!” Millium screeched, unconsciously summoning Lammy behind her. “IS IT CHANTING SOME KIND OF SPELL TO SUCK ALL OUR SOULS IN?!”

No one knew if there was any truth in her wild guess, but everyone was frantically already moving to stop the ghost from doing whatever the heck it was doing. Elliot watched lights of varying colors appear around Emma, Jusis, and Machias, signifying that they were casting arts. Meanwhile, Laura and Fie rushed forward to slice at the ghost, only for their blades to faze through it and hit the table.

Unfortunately, it looked like physical attacks were still useless against the ghost. 

The ghost’s finger moved to angle upwards, pointing at the empty ceiling above them.

hm… hm… hm… hm…  hm… hm…  mm… mm…

“Golden Sphere! / Aqua Bleed! / Needle Shoot!”

Each art manifested in the air above the class and converged toward the ghost, only to also faze through the ghost and completely obliterate the table full of all their food. With the table now gone, the ghost simply stayed in place, appearing to sit on air.

Oh Goddess, apparently orbal arts were no longer effective on this thing—

“What the hell are we supposed to do now?!” Now it was Machias’ turn to scream.

"Uhh—" Emma shifted her hold on her staff and started to quickly mumble words Elliot couldn't understand.

Fie shrugged. “I guess we just let the ghost eat all of our souls because we can’t do anything about it. Or we break the door and run.”

Laura shook her head at the first suggestion, stubbornly raising her sword again. “I refuse to let this be the end!”

“WE’RE ALL GONNA DIE!”

As if on cue with Millium’s hopeless cry, the ghost spoke up with a voice so scratchy and distorted; it could barely classify as human.

“D e̸͍͛a  t h.”

 

Elliot's heart felt like it stopped, while his eyes shut and his body cringed inwards to brace himself for the worst. 

When silence met his ears, he was so sure he was dead because he couldn't even hear his own breathing, let alone his classmates’.

SLAM

His muscles jolted, eyes opening and body suddenly being knocked forward by the door behind him. Thankfully Gaius caught him before he smacked face-first into the floor.

Turning around to the source of the sound, he saw Instructor Sara, leg half raised as if she just kicked the door open. In her hand was a bunch of empty beer bottles.

"Ugh, I'm gonna need a bunch of wa—" She stopped, eyes fixated on the dining table. Elliot turned around, noting that all the lights were on, and saw that the table and all their food was still just a pile of sad destruction on the ground. 

The woman smacked her forehead with her palm, groaning, “Oh crap, what’d you kids do? Now I’m gonna be subjected to another boring lecture by our grumpy vice-principal!”

No one paid any heed to her complaints, more focused on trying to find any sign of the ghost. Instructor Sara quickly grew suspicious and impatient by their odd silence, snapping her fingers at them just to gain their attention. “Hello? What happened to you guys? You all look like you’ve seen a ghost or something.”

Upon realizing that the orbal lights were functioning properly again and that they could hear no strange humming, everyone let out a deep sigh of relief. Millium, in particular, collapsed to her knees. Her fear of the ghost had sapped all her strength and the adrenaline from that fear was no longer able to keep her standing.

Still, she raised her arms and tiredly cheered. “We’re alive!”

“How disappointing,” Jusis sighed. “All that build up, and the ghost didn’t even do anything noteworthy.”

Machias whipped his head to face his rival, mouth agape with exasperation. “Is its very existence itself—which, if your high and mighty brain doesn’t remember, could not be affected by anything we attacked it with—not noteworthy enough for you?!”

“It could have at least provided us with proof that it exists. Now we simply look like fools who had a mass hallucination and decided to pick a fight with our defenseless dining table.” His crystal blue eyes gleamed and flicked over to Instructor Sara. “I’m sure that’s exactly what you’re thinking of right now.”

She only scratched her head, staring at all of her students in confusion. “I don’t even know what’s going on. Can someone explain?”

Once again, Emma took the role of explaining the situation to the ill-informed. In the meantime, Elliot continued to take deep breaths, calming himself down. His eyes trailed down to Rean's plate, still secure in his hands.

“Wow.” Instructor Sara whistled, looking at all of them with an obvious grimace. “Jusis is right, that story does make you all sound like crazies.”

“Instructor Sara…” Emma sighed, her disappointed voice holding a hint of warning.

“I believe you! I believe you!” she shot her hands up, surrendering to her students’ claims. “Geez, when did the class president get all scary too? Lately all the cute ones are becoming more intimidating! Did the school put something in the water?”

Sigh.

“I n s t r u c t o r   S a r a.” Elliot chorused with Emma, pressuring the woman to take this seriously.

“Even Elliot! My point is proven!” she whined for a good five seconds before she pulled together her act. Coughing, she leveled a relatively serious gaze at them. “Anyway, the only actions I can think of that’s worth doing is to inform the school and call some priest to inspect this dorm. Any responsible adult would probably evacuate you all until they clear this building, but I’ll give you a choice cause I trust you all to not die~ Do you all want to take temporary residence somewhere else or something?”

Elliot wasn’t the only one blinking at her to make sure he actually saw her say those words (the first part, not the part about her being an irresponsible adult). They were surprised that she actually thought this through. 

"What's that look for?!" she whined.

Jusis scoffed. "I suppose even you have your moments."

"What's that supposed to mean?!"

Elliot turned his eyes to observe the rest of his classmates, curious about what they thought about the offer. Personally, he’d rather not live in a haunted building, but…

“Ghosts are scary!” Millium raised her hand, offering her honest opinion. “But! I also don’t want to sleep anywhere else!”

“So… What do you want to do?”

“Oh…” A deep frown pulled at her lips before she innocently shrugged and grinned. “I guess I don’t know!”

Laura stepped forward, purposeful eyes staring back at their instructor. “I want to stay. I’m curious about this ghost and I wouldn’t mind doing an investigation on it.”

“I- I do too!” Emma stammered out her agreement. Next to her, Gaius firmly nodded, enough to show his decision in the matter. 

The sound of joints popping brought everyone’s attention toward Fie, who was rolling her shoulders. She looked like their encounter with the ghost was just a warm up. “Eh, one of my favorite sleeping spots happens to be here, so I’ll stay.”

“Is no one else concerned about how the last thing that ghost said was DEATH?!” Machias exclaimed, incredulously pointing at where the ghost had been.

With a thoughtful expression, Gaius hummed, “The winds didn't warn me of any killing intent when the ghost spoke. Perhaps it's a benevolent spirit?” 

“ Hah?! Do friendly ghosts even exist? And if they did, would they really scream DEATH at us?!" Machias spoke Elliot's thoughts exactly, but their friend remained steadfast with his suggestion and only offered them an open-minded smile. They then glanced at Emma for her input on the subject, but she only shrugged, uncertain. "Fine! Whatever! Obviously I’m the only one with common sense here, so I’ll stay to keep everyone else alive!”

“As if your common sense is any better,” Jusis snorted before also taking a confident step toward their instructor. “Anyway, in a situation like this, Regnitz will most likely be the first one to die. So, I'll continue to enjoy my stay here until he drops.”

“HEY!”

Fie snickered, patting their dear friend on the back. “It was nice knowing you, Macchiato.”

"LSNAKDNSL!"

Elliot usually tried to not join the tease-Machias train, but he couldn't stifle the chuckle from escaping his throat. At least he could say he wasn't the only one; to the side, Gaius and Laura were failing to hide their smiles.

“Traitors! Is it too late to change my mind..?” Machias indignantly grumbled, accepting his fate as the class punching bag at this moment. 

On the bright side, the mood of the room lightened.

“Um…” Emma shyly smiled at their devastated classmate. “Hopefully the ghost is dealt with before anything bad happens?”

“Thanks, Emma. At least someone’s on my side.” 

“Oh please. That’s just pity, not compassion. Know the difference.”

“Shut up!”

Millium raised her hand again, enthusiastically waving it in the air. “Ooh! If the whole class is staying together, then I’ll stick around too!”

And now everyone’s eyes were on Elliot, the only one who had yet to make a decision. Awkwardly, he scratched his cheek. He’d completely been on board with temporarily staying somewhere else while the ghost situation was being dealt with, but now that everyone was staying…

He couldn’t just abandon Class VII like that.

“Same for me,” he sighed, much less enthusiastically than the others.

“Ahaha! Good ol’ peer pressure!” Instructor Sara said, seeing right through him. 

"That is not something an instructor should be proud about," Jusis sighed.

Once the woman's laughter calmed, she clapped her hands together and grinned at all of them. “Aw, it brings a tear to my eye to see you all unanimously agree on something! It reminds me of the first day of school” Her tone then drastically changed, carrying something heavier, more concerning. “Well, it would if you were a full class. Where are Rean and Alisa anyway? They miss the whole ghost attack?”

Every student in the room froze, having completely forgotten the reason they never touched their dinner. Elliot slowly looked down to the plate in his hands—a plate that was holding very cold food. (Though to be fair, it was in a better state than the plates now crippled on the ground with the broken table.)

Wasn’t it... possible that the ghost didn’t just disappear? Wasn’t it possible that it just decided to haunt a different part of the dorm?

Those thoughts crossed everyone’s mind at the same time. All at once, they sprinted past their instructor and up the stairs; the group splitting up so that the boys would check on Rean while the girls would check on Alisa.

“Rean!” Machias banged on his door, failing to turn the locked doorknob. “Are you oka—”

The door clicked and moved, cracking open just enough so they could only see half of Rean’s face. Seeing him all safe and sound, Elliot felt instant relief and let out a breath he didn’t know he was holding.

All that relief suddenly came crashing down when their gazes met— or didn’t meet. Rean was staring back at them with a gaze so blank that it was like he was looking past them. Yet those eyes were so focused, as if there was something standing behind them, something more important than their own existences.

Along with the rest of his male classmates, Elliot looked behind him, only to see nothing but the door to the vacant room.

“Rean?” Gaius spoke up, looking at the raven-haired teen in concern. 

“Yes?” Rean focused on the sight closer to him, on the friends in front of him for only a second. Aftwards, he instantly pointed his gaze to the side, his visible eyebrow knitted like he was deep in thought.

Elliot frowned. Strange. Why was he avoiding eye contact with them? Was he so guilty about rejecting Alisa’s confession that he couldn’t even bear the sight of his other classmates?

Jusis nonchalantly crossed his arms, hiding any signs that he thought his behavior was odd. “Have you had issues with your lights?” Rean shook his head sideways, his visible eye narrowing in confusion. “Heard any humming or screaming?” More head shakes. “Felt anything odd with that sixth sense of yours?”

“No..? Is there a—” His mouth abruptly shut, cutting off whatever he was about to say. Tentatively, his lips formed a flat line. “I was sleeping the whole time. The field study exhausted me.”

That statement raised a few eyebrows. Rean wasn’t known to be a heavy sleeper; his senses were sharp enough to wake him up from even a tiny hint of danger. Plus, the last time the class encountered the ghost, Rean noted that he could sense its suffocating presence from a floor away.

(Not to mention Elliot kinda did scream pretty loudly.)

“Okay then..? Sorry for disrupting your slumber then?” Machias didn’t bother to hide the suspicion in his voice. The only reason no one challenged Rean’s words was because they thought he had no reason to lie.

“Alright, goodnight then.” Rean started to slowly close the door. However, before the edge of the door slotted with the doorframe, Gaius placed a palm against the cool wood, impeding it in its tracks.

Their gazes were locked for about three seconds before Rean looked away again.

Oddly breathless, Gaius eventually said, “We brought you your dinner.”

Oh. Elliot snapped his chin down to look at the plate he was still holding. Right.

Embarrassed at forgetting about the food, he tripped over his words. “Oh- Uh. Yeah, here’s your food. But it’s kind of cold so maybe I should heat it first—”

“It’s fine.” The weight in Elliot’s hands left, Rean opening the door just enough so he could retrieve the dish with one arm. “Night.”

His voice was so quiet. So subdued. It reminded him of when he bumped into Rean on the first day of school and compared him to his child version. Now, somehow Rean seemed to be even more lacking than when Elliot last saw him three days ago .

Without any more delay, the door closed and clicked, signifying that it was locked. The four teens stood there quietly for the next few seconds, staring blankly at the innocent door.

Thinking about it, all the responses out of him were so brief and allowed no room for further conversation. It was strange for someone as sociable as Rean, but Elliot believed it could be explained by his exhaustion.

Machias, however, couldn’t agree, his fists angrily digging into his palms for some strange reason. "Forget letting him brood for the night. Let's stage an intervention right now."

"Earlier, you were the one who suggested we wait a night," Jusis raised his brow, moving the lean back against the wall. "Someone’s restless."

And distressed, Elliot noted. Their green-haired companion’s jaw was tense, teeth clenching like the way it did whenever he was on an anti-noble tirade. It was unsettling to see how Rean’s reserved behavior was provoking such a reaction out of him. 

“Well that’s because he—!” Machias was hissing through gritted teeth and pointing at Rean’s door, like he was struggling to define something from this situation that no one else could see. “He—”

Gaius’ gentle hand reached Machias’ shoulder, grounding and calming him a bit. “He’s fine. For now.”

“How do you know?!”

They were both exchanging serious looks that Elliot couldn’t read. Between them, they shared the same intensities of concern and weariness. The only contrast was Gaius’ patience versus Machias’ impatience, clashing like roaring waves to figure out what to do.

Helpless, Elliot looked to Jusis for an explanation for why they were suddenly acting so serious when Rean was relatively fine, but the noble had his eyes closed, deep in thought. 

Just as Machias and Gaius were in the middle of some strange staring match, they heard a multitude of footsteps move together from upstairs. Not long after, the group of girls—minus Alisa—reunited with them on the second floor. 

Laura warily eyed the tension between their two male classmates before announcing, “Alisa and Sharon claim to not have seen a ghost, nor have they noticed any of the strange phenomena we encountered in the dining room. Alisa also has no intention of leaving the dorm because of the ghost situation.”

“And we successfully delivered her dinner!” Millium chirped. “What about you guys?”

“Um…” Elliot nervously glanced at his three companions who chose to remain quiet. “I guess the whole ghost incident was restricted to the dining room. Rean says the same thing as Alisa.” Except he ended the conversation before they could actually talk about the ghost. 

Fie hummed louder than what was normal for her, not bothering to hide her suspicion. “Looks like a little more than ‘same’.”

At once, Gaius and Machias broke their staring contest, turning to face the girls. 

“It’s nothing,” Machias sighed, taking one second to cautiously glance back at Gaius. “For now, at least. If needed, we’ll follow up with Rean and Alisa tomorrow.”

Those were supposed to be words of reassurance, but they only sent a shiver up Elliot’s spine. ' For now' sounded so foreboding, like those two anticipated that things could potentially get worse. 

It sounded a little too exaggerated for their situation, at least that was just Elliot’s opinion. They were only dealing with a case of heartbreak, right? He didn’t want to belittle the feelings of being rejected, but they were eventually going to move on from it, right? 

But… With the way his two friends were acting, it didn’t seem they agreed with him, much to his confusion. 

Did they notice something he didn’t?

Before he could question them any further, someone’s stomach growled loudly. All eyes turned toward Emma, whose face was increasingly becoming red by the moment.

“Oh,” Emma embarrassedly coughed into her fist, pretending like they didn’t hear anything. “Sorry…”

Millium grinned, rubbing her stomach. “No, it’s great! I’m hungry too! Let’s go make more food and feed our stomachs finally!”

With that, the rest of their classmates either snickered or sighed before they followed Millium down the stairs. Elliot ended up trailing at the end of the group because he still wasn’t feeling too hungry. He was genuinely more worried about how he was going to get a good sleep tonight, knowing that there was a ghost haunting this place and worried about whatever was going on between his two friends.

As he took one step down the stairs, he tried to not think too hard about the heavy, relieved sigh he heard behind Rean’s door.

---

The next morning started with Elliot having the living daylights scared out of him. Just five minutes before his alarm, Millium barged into his room with a loud slam and methodically moved to every corner of his room like she was possessed.

Possessed…

Like possessed by a ghost.

A ghost that was definitely existing somewhere around here.

“M- Millium?!” he screeched in horror, watching the girl stop at the fourth and last corner of his room. “What are you doing?!”

In an eerily slow fashion for someone as energetic as her, she turned around, revealing her face. Her eyes were wide and sunken, surrounded by dark circles. Meanwhile, her jaw was slightly unhinged, leaving her mouth slightly open.

She really looked like she was possessed.

He almost screamed.

“Elliot!” she loudly groaned as she hurled herself at his bed and landed on his legs, body spread out like a starfish. That was enough for him to calm down and realize that Millium was at least semi-fine.

"Wh- what?"

He didn't expect his question to dump him into a long monologue.

“I couldn’t sleep because of the ghost thing but I really wanted to sleep, so I decided that the best way to help me sleep was to stop being scared of the ghost. And what better way to to stop my fear than to make sure the fear can’t get me in the first place? So I went out to find and prepare some anti-ghost measures!

“Unfortunately, there isn’t much anti-ghost stuff readily available in town, especially when every store is closed at 3am, so I had to call Lechter and ask him to ship some stuff to me but I guess he was also taking a nap because he never answered any of my calls. And then I tried going to Emma's room to ask but some cat scratched me and it hurt— Anyway! I went out to gather some natural ghost warding materials but then I realized I didn’t know what any of those were, so I was basically wandering outside in the middle of the night until I stumbled across Beryl—you know, the head of the Occult Club—and she happened to have exactly what I was looking for!

“So I took all the items she offered me and ran back to the dorm just now. Sharon intercepted me when I was going up the stairs and she offered to help me put all this anti-ghost stuff in the girls’ rooms while I took care of all the guys’ rooms. Anyway, that brings me here! Well, actually, I barged into Jusis’ room first and he’s kinda mad because his beauty sleep’s ruined, but THEN he kicked me out which brings us to where we are NOW!”

That was… A lot of information to take in at 7 in the morning. Not to mention that Elliot was also sleep deprived because he had trouble sleeping last night. He wasn’t even sure he understood most of Millium's story. 

“Sounds like you had quite the… ahm… adventure.”

“I mean, yeah it was fun, but I’m TIRED!” Millium breathlessly whined, face buried in his blanket. In the next second, she jumped back, off his bed, and picked up a bag she had apparently left on the ground. Despite how tired she claimed to be, she still seemed to be full of energy. “Anyway anyway— I gave you ghost warding candles and put them at each corner of your room, but I also have other stuff you can take too. Like garlic, sharp sticks, holy water, talismans, silver swords…”

...He had the feeling that some of these items weren't meant for ghosts. Well… Knowing she wasn’t going to take no for an answer, Elliot chose the least dangerous object.

“Oh, the holy water? Good choice! I think. Beryl at least said it was a good choice.”

And just as she handed him the small glass bottle of water, she sprinted off to her next victim… which was probably Machias, judging by the cursed screaming that suddenly echoed throughout the whole building.

Well… That was one way to wake up.

By the time Elliot changed into his uniform and opened his door, he saw Millium happily skip away from Machias’ room and towards Gaius’. Before her hand even lifted to touch the doorknob, the door was pulled back by their apparently prepared classmate. 

Already Gaius was holding his hand out, silently requesting the girl to give him whatever anti-ghost materials she had left. After Millium shoved a few items in his palm, and saluted, “Stay safe!” she stalked toward the last occupied room on this floor.

Noting that Machias and Jusis had also entered the hallway, faces exhibiting utter exhaustion and hairs sticking out in all directions, Elliot hesitantly gestured toward Millium and suggested, “Maybe we should stick with her to make sure she doesn’t go overboard? After seeing Rean yesterday, I don’t think it’s a great idea to… you know.”

Gaius nodded, swiftly placing the anti-ghost items onto his desk before returning to the hallway. “We shouldn’t overwhelm him. Only one of us should go with her, preferably someone he’s 100% comfortable with.”

“Huh? Why wouldn’t he be comfortable with some of us?” 

“Well…” Gaius awkwardly shifted his gaze away from them and toward Millium, who was now standing in front of Rean’s door. “I confronted him about something during the last field study, which unintentionally intimidated him.”

Elliot eyed his companion in shock. He couldn’t even imagine any scenario that would result in Gaius intimidating Rean.

“In that case, Regnitz and I cannot go because we had a little confrontation with Rean back in Bareahard.”

Machias guiltily rubbed the back of his head. “Yeah, I could tell he’s been tense around us since then…”

Aidios— All three of them confronted Rean?! About what? Why?!

Elliot squeaked when Machias gave him a firm pat on the back. “You’re up, Elliot. Just keep Millium in check and determine if Rean’s still behaving in a way that may require an intervention.”

Regardless of whether or not Elliot was prepared, he was pushed toward Millium, who was shockingly knocking on the door instead of slamming straight through it. Before he could regain his balance and look back at the guys behind him, he already heard them walking down the stairs.

Deciding to just accept the position that was shoved onto him, Elliot curiously turned toward the young girl, asking something that caught his attention. 

“I’m surprised you knocked on his door instead of just barging through like what you did for the rest of us.”

Millium wore a smug grin like she was extremely proud of her self-restraint. “Well, Lechter said—” she suddenly covered her mouth with her hand as her voice lowered in volume. “Oh wait, I’m supposed to keep that a secret, hehe.”

Elliot didn’t know what to make of her slip up. He didn’t even know who the heck “Lechter” was. What did this person have to do with her not breaking down Rean’s door?

“Basically, I’m trying to be more careful.” She loudly knocked on the door again. “Come on, open the door, Rean! I gotta give you ghost-protection stuff whether you want them or not!”

“...More careful, huh?” Elliot shook his head in exasperation, feeling a drop of sweat trail down his temple. 

“Eh? Is this not careful?” Millium banged on the door again before turning to owlishly blink at Elliot. “Hey, you’re a careful kind of person, right? Can you show me what being careful is?”

Uh… He couldn’t say no when she was staring at him with big, sparkling eyes so full of faith.

(Why did anyone think Elliot was capable of keeping Millium in line?)

Taking a step toward Rean's door, he anxiously gulped. Why was he suddenly feeling so nervous about talking to his friend? Was he unnerved by his classmates’ earlier words? Was he nervous that he might mess up something because he wasn't seeing a picture that the others were seeing— 

Before he knew it, Millium grabbed his wrist and guided it toward the door.

Oh no, now he’d been swept into her pace. Elliot was the type of guy who needed to take time to mentally prepare for these things. That wasn’t possible if he was with Millium, the literal definition of a hurricane-taking-initiative-which-drags-everyone-up-with-her. 

“I’m watching and learning!” 

She was beaming at him. To say no would be to kick a puppy.

Resisting her grip just enough so that she didn’t bash his hand into the door, Elliot softly tapped two fingers against the door. The sound wasn’t as loud as Millium’s knocks but it wasn’t so quiet that a conscious person couldn’t hear it.

“Rean, can we talk to you?”

Silence.

Now it was his turn to face Millium with a frown. “He might be ignoring us.”

“Rean, you big meanie! How could you ignore Elliot like that?” Millium exclaimed, releasing his hand so she could not-so-carefully bang on his door by herself again. “Look, he’s crying!”

“I’m not—”

“Heck! I think I might be crying too! And that’s saying something because I know you know that I don’t even know how to cry!”

“Millium—”

The door swung open. Behind it, stood Rean, already dressed for school. With the exception of slightly pinched eyebrows, his face was full of indifference. Elliot couldn’t even make a guess of what he was thinking or feeling when those lilac eyes scanned them from top to bottom, noting the obvious lack of tear trails on anyone’s face.

“Yay! You’re not ignoring us anymore!” Millium cheerfully jumped and hugged Rean, who didn’t return the gesture. That was a habit Elliot had noticed about him; he never returned hugs. Elliot could relate; he could never return his dad’s hugs, only because he was usually too busy being squeezed to death so he could never hug back even if he wanted to. 

But then— 

“Huh?”

Millium blinked owlishly as Rean placed his hands on her shoulders and pushed her away from him, creating a space between them until they were standing two arge apart. 

“Yes?”

There was no hint of his usual politeness, nor any sign of possible tiredness from Millium actions. There was just… nothing.

Why was his behavior being so inconsistent?

"Um…" Even Millium was unnerved by his sudden change in behavior, awkwardly shifting her weight between her feet and not knowing what to immediately say. "I brought you some stuff that can help keep the ghost away?"

"..." He continued to stare at them with an unreadable gaze. "Do whatever you want."

???

So many question marks were probably popping out of Elliot and Millium's heads as they confusedly watched their stoic friend waste not another moment to walk past them and go down the stairs.

"Hmm… I'm not an expert at this emotion stuff, but like he's definitely not looking sad, right?" Millium tilted her head at Elliot, deep in thought.

"Definitely not sad." He definitely looked better than yesterday. But Elliot didn't know if this was good either. “So… I guess we follow him?”

“Of course! Do you even have to ask?”

Elliot first waited for Millium to scramble all around the room to place whatever anti-ghost objects everywhere. While waiting for her to finish, he realized this was the first time he’d been in Rean’s room, so he observed the room’s personality with great interest. 

Overall, it didn’t seem much different to the default room. On the wall was an eastern poster with a few words on it that Elliot couldn’t understand. On his desk were a bunch of origami horses that Bareahard’s group made him when he was recovering from a fever and there was also a picture frame of his family. 

He could recognize Rean and Elise in the picture immediately. They didn’t look too different from the present, so this picture must’ve been taken recently. He could assume that the other two people were the Schwarzer parents, especially with how Elise looked a lot like her mother. 

It was a cute photo, reminding Elliot of the family photo in his own room… but there was something off about this picture. He couldn’t specifically explain exactly what was off, but his eyes kept returning to the image of his friend in this photo. 

Maybe it was the eyes..?

Elliot couldn’t figure it out. 

He turned his attention away and looked around for anything else noteworthy. He only found the necessities like school supplies and clothes all tidied up on the desk or in his wardrobe but— oh wait, there was a fishing rod under his bed. 

Interesting. So this was what Rean’s room was like. 

“Done!” Millium chirped, finishing up by placing a black rock by the door. She then grabbed Elliot’s arm and pointed at all the new editions. “I stopped myself from going overboard—cause, you know, I’m trying to be careful—so I put two bottles of holy water and three ghost-repelling candles on specific placements on his desk, and I put a cool clunk of obsidian by his door.”

And now Rean’s room had anti-ghost elements to it, as well as every other room in this dorm.

“What's the obsidian for?” he asked. 

“Beryl said something about how it absorbs negative energy and helps with “highlighting the truth” or whatever.” Pulling on his arm, she led him out the door and turned toward the stairs. “Anyway, let’s go— Oh, hi Sharon!”

Across from them was said maid, who had just finished climbing down the stairs from the third floor. 

With a closed-eye smile, she politely curtsied to them. "Good morning, Lady Millium, I've successfully distributed the anti-ghost items to the rest of the mistresses, as you requested." She raised her head and faced Elliot. "Good morning to you too, Master Elliot."

Millium beamed. "Yay! Thanks, Sharon!"

Elliot sweat-dropped, wondering if Sharon interrupted the girls' slumbers with the same fervor as Millium. 

"Um, Sharon..?" he spoke up, albeit nervously because he didn't know how she would react to his question. "How's Alisa doing?"

Her smile faded, replaced by a concerned frown. "Not well. She has a severe headache and nearly vomited when trying to get out of bed." Sharon sadly shook her head. "I'm afraid that if she doesn't get well soon, she'll have to miss school today."

Oof, that sounded rough. This was seriously not Alisa’s week. He'd definitely have to check on her later today. "Aw, I hope she feels better soon," Elliot offered his condolences. 

"Yeah, I hope so too! At least she can play with the anti-ghost stuff if she's bored!"

Sharon regained her smile. "I'll pass along your messages to her. Anyway, is there anything I can help you with?"

"Breakfast! Oh, but I can already smell the food from here, so I guess nothing." 

Before Elliot could say anything, Millium tugged on his arm and practically dragged him with her down the stairs. He couldn’t even count the seconds they spent running around the first floor, stopping by to grab a couple of sandwiches by the kitchen before leaving from the front doors. 

All dizzy and out of breath, he almost missed how Millium let go of his hand to confidently place her hands on her hips.

“Alright, let’s go find Rean!”

“Wait,” he exhaled, trying to catch his breath. This girl’s energy was too much for him. “Give me a second…”

She nodded, letting him rest as she turned her head to see any sign of their black-haired friend. After a minute, Elliot appeared much more composed.

“You okay now?”

“Uh, yeah.”

Not another second was wasted before she locked her grip onto his arm and they whirlwind throughout the entire town.

---

The next hour spent scouring through the whole town for Rean resulted in nothing but exhausting Elliot more than he'd already been. By the time school was starting, he dragged Millium toward class (the girl finally learned the consequences of running around while having no hours of sleep) and saw Rean enter the classroom by the time he reached the second floor.

...There were times Elliot wondered why he tried so hard and that time was now.

When he walked into their classroom with a twelve year-old hanging off his back, Jusis shot him a stare that translated into 'You had one job.'

Elliot merely responded with a sweet smile and not-so-subtly woke up Millium by exaggeratedly shrugging his shoulders. Like clockwork, she leaped off his back once she woke up and attacked Jusis with a hug.

Eheh.

"Seriously, what are they putting in the water? Remind me to not cross you!" Apparently Instructor Sara was behind him and saw that entire interaction. She stared at him with a little trepidation before clapping her hands loudly to get the attention of the quiet class. "Anyway, class is starting! Get in your seats!"

Elliot walked over to his desk while casting a glance at Rean, who was diligently ignoring everyone else’s piercing stares on him by writing in his notebook. 

Machias in particular looked like he was going to burn holes into Rean's uniform with his glaring eyes only. It seemed like he planned to take action regardless of whatever Elliot observed earlier. Meanwhile, everyone else showed more concern than demand for answers, or hid it well with a calm mask.

It was so strange… The whole situation felt like it was rising in intensity as if some invisible deadline was stamped over their heads. It was nothing compared to how everyone handled the nuclear quartet earlier this year, and Elliot actually thought someone would commit homicide during those times.

Here, where Rean had such an unbothered expression and wasn’t even in the same room as Alisa, Elliot still didn’t understand why everyone was so on edge when he'd done nothing so far.

Just what wasn’t he seeing..?

“Alright class! First up, we’re gonna talk about…”

For now, Rean was saved by the bell. But after class, hell would surely break loose.

...

zzz...

...

“No, we’re going to have this talk right now, Rean!”

Elliot jolted from his seat. Upon not seeing instructors in the room, he immediately realized he accidentally took a page out of Fie’s book and slept through all their classes. 

(Catching up later wasn’t going to be fun…)

He turned his head to face the back of the class, seeing Machias place his hands on Rean’s desk while he sent a leveled, concerned stare at their black-haired friend, who was standing from his seat. 

“There’s nothing to talk about,” Rean aloofly shrugged, gathering his papers and notebooks together in one hand. “What happened between me and Alisa is none of your business. If you want to show concern, show it to her because she needs it more than I do.”

The loud sound of a chair scraping backwards interrupted Machias from retorting. “On the contrary, this is our business,” Laura calmly said, now standing from her seat as well. “I think you’ve seen enough to know that a shattered link between two classmates is a problem that affects the entire class.”

“Plus…” came the lazy drawl of Fie’s voice. The ex-jaeger was currently leaning back in her chair, face staring at the ceiling but ears well focused on the conversation. “You always got into our businesses when it wasn’t any of your business. You can’t complain when it goes the other way ‘round.”

Rean sighed, eyes darkly flicking to the ground before returning to meet Fie’s side glance. “My bad. I shouldn’t have interfered with your personal affairs in the first place and I swear I’ll stop.” 

Elliot frowned, not liking how Rean just spontaneously decided to end his habit born out of the desire to help others right then and there. Before anyone could respond, however, Rean shifted his attention to Laura, responding to her statement.

“And about the whole situation with Alisa… What do you want me to do? Talk to her and say ‘Hey, I’m sorry I don’t like you.’ or something?"

And now Elliot was gaping because he said something so uncaring with such a detached voice. Rean always cared, even for random strangers on the street. He was always careful with how he talked, not wanting to offend anyone, and he tended to keep his opinions neutral. 

To hear him just blatantly say he didn’t like a close friend—someone he’d been working very well with up until this point—just sounded so bizarre. So unbelievable. He actually had to share a flabbergasted look with Emma and Millium to confirm that he wasn’t hallucinating. 

Gaius, sitting in the desk on the right side of Rean’s was the next to speak. “Let me get this straight. Do you want to fix your link with Alisa but have no idea how to?”

Even though Elliot still couldn’t process how or why Rean was suddenly acting so distant, he thought that was a strange question. Of course Rean would— 

“No.” A cut and dry response. With so much authority that dared anyone to question him, it sent chills up his spine. For once, he could actually see the resemblance between Rean and Chancellor Osborne. “Our link is severed. Forever.”

His words settled heavily in everyone's ears, shocking them speechless as he walked toward the door, soft steps echoing in the ensuing silence.

This was so twisted..! Elliot had to pinch himself to make sure he wasn’t actually dreaming. To his absolute horror, he felt the slight sting of pain.  

“W- Wait!” Machias stuttered, barely recovering from his shock. 

Jusis was the one who slid out of his seat—which was closest to the door—and intercepted Rean before he reached the exit. Staring back with an equally standoffish glare, he crossed his arms and said, “You can’t seriously think you can say that and expect us to roll over and accept it.”

Rean didn’t verbally respond. With his unchanging indifferent face, he took another step forward and placed his hand on Jusis’ shoulder, pushing the surprised noble to stumble to the side and—

SLAM

“SCHWARZER!”

The door was wide open as a group of haughty nobles, headed by Patrick, arrogantly strode into Class VII’s classroom like it was their property and stopped just a couple of arge away from Rean.

“Patrick T. Hyarms,” Jusis drawled with a hint of irritation, quickly recovering from the earlier shove and choosing to lean against the wall. “To what does Class VII owe the pleasure?”

“A- Albarea,” Patrick’s smirk wobbled for a moment before regaining his arrogant composure. Turning to face Rean, he announced, “I’m here to put this whole class in their place, starting with you, Rean Schwarzer! Remember that duel I promised you? It’s now in the gymnasium. Didn’t you get the details in my text?”

Rean shrugged. “Hm… I don’t think I got the message.” 

“Yeah you did! You left me on read!” Patrick scowled before coughing into his fist to recompose himself. “Anyway, I heard that your girlfriend is sick. Ferris also happens to be sick today. That means we’ll both get different partners for our match.” 

Patrick’s blue eyes scanned the whole room, starting from where the girls were sitting. Upon realizing that the female group consisted of the daughter of the Radiant Blademaster, an ex-jaeger, a witch, and a child with a mysterious robot, he quickly turned his attention to the boys. He quickly passed over Jusis who typically intimidated everyone, Gaius who had a posture and body that spoke strength, and Machias who had a reputation for being extremely violent toward nobles. That left his gaze to rest on Elliot.

He squeaked, realizing he was going to be dragged into this mess against his will. “Eh?”

“Your partner can be that commoner filth,” Patrick decided by himself, ignoring the groans from various Class VII members who understood the exact reasoning behind his choice. The only reason no one protested—other than Machias who was violently thrashing and only held back by Gaius—was because it was a waste of energy to argue with an entitled noble. Elliot pretty much was forced to just accept his fate.

Once the grumbles of the class settled down, Patrick then gestured to one of his own classmates who had followed him here. “Meanwhile, my new partner will be Alphonse of the Henzel Barony.”

Elliot eyed the named noble curiously. He never really paid attention to the nobles who looked at him like he was the scum of the earth, so he considered this the first time actually meeting this Alphonse guy. Besides the average-sized pristine-white noble uniform, nothing stood out. Even his sword was practically a replica of what many of the nobles used. This... actually made him stand out because most nobles put an effort into making their appearances draw attention. 

Alphonse pushed a strand of his gray-brown hair behind his ear as his sea-green eyes flared and viciously declared war. “I’ll put you in your place!” 

Such a response prompted a few snorts from Elliot’s classmates. Sometimes he wondered if status was the only thing in these people’s minds. This was like the hundredth time he heard some noble student say something along those lines to Rean.

For a moment, he thought Rean was going to refuse because he always tried to avoid sparring or dueling with the other students. Certainly this new cold attitude he gained overnight wouldn’t stop him from outright saying that he didn’t care to these stubborn students. 

But then… Maybe it was the lighting, but Elliot could swear a gleam of red crossed those lilac eyes before he sighed. 

“Alright.”

It seemed like everytime Rean spoke today would result in Elliot questioning how much he really knew his friend.

---

Oh Aidios, Elliot was going to die. 

When he got roped into this, he was expecting a fight between the four of them in an empty room in the gymnasium. Maybe there’d be an instructor refereeing the duel and maybe there’d be some students lazing around.

No. Apparently that wasn’t the case at all because the sparring hall hosted a whole crowd like they were ready for some concert. They were all nobles. Oh, and the referee was also a noble student who may or may not be biased whenever this duel thing would go down. 

“Like I promised, Schwarzer! I brought a whole audience to watch you lose!” Patrick grinned at them before walking all the way to the opposite side of the room with Alphonse.

“He’s gotta be kidding,” Fie snorted, standing beside Elliot. The rest of Class VII had decided to follow and watch them, mostly because their conversation with Rean was nowhere near over and were willing to wait until the end of the duel to continue it. “They stand no chance against you two.”

Elliot was still nervous though. Like… All those eyes were watching him. He wasn’t even good at battle! What if he made a dumb mistake? He’d be the laughing stock of the whole school!

“Fie’s right.” Laura placed a gentle, comforting hand on his shoulder, hoping to take some of his nervous energy away. “Everything will be fine as long as you keep doing what you usually do. And as long as…” she trailed off, her hard gaze landing on Rean, who had been silent this entire time. 

“Ugh, I have many questions I want to ask right now,” Machias groaned, also clearly referring to Rean. “But I wouldn’t miss any chance to see those snobs eat dirt.”

“I’m unfortunately inclined to agree with that,” Jusis huffed.

Millium enthusiastically nodded her head. “Yeah, Rean and Elliot, beat them up real nice and quick so we can start Interrogation #2!”

Elliot wasn't sure how that statement was supposed to motivate either of them.

Emma sweat-dropped while she offered her own suggestion. “Maybe it would be best if we all took a break after this. Everyone’s been so tense all day after all.”

“Agreed,” Gaius said as he walked up to Rean and Elliot and gave them comforting, firm pats on their backs. “Good luck out there.” 

The rest of Class VII then walked over to the side-lines, leaving Elliot with Rean. Unsurprisingly, his companion was as stoic as he was for the first half of this day, seemingly uncaring of what was going on around them. Though, on a closer look, his eyes seemed a bit distant…

“Rean…” The teen was pulled out of his thoughts by Elliot’s voice. For a moment, he had the mind to ask him why he was acting so differently today, but they first had to deal with this forced duel they found themselves in. “So, what’s the plan?”

Lilac eyes shifted between him and their opponents from across the room, clearly cooking up a strategy to beat these nobles as efficiently as possible. At least that hadn’t changed about him, Rean always seemed to have a talent for reading the battlefield and measuring strengths and weaknesses. So, despite how different his behavior was at the moment, they’d still be fi—

“You stand back while I take care of them.”

“Eh?”

Elliot shouldn’t have been surprised because he was the type of combatant to stay back, but the way Rean phrased it sounded like he didn’t have to do anythi—

“BEGIN!” shouted the noble referee. 

The following events were a blur. 

The nobles created an ARCUS link together, with Alphonse immediately beginning to cast what seemed to be a fire art while Patrick charged forward. Rean had already left his starting position in the dust as he instantly closed the gap between him and Patrick, using his first strike to push the noble back.

“What the—” Patrick gasped as Rean gracefully redirected the noble’s weapon with the sliding of his own blade and quickly followed-up with another strike, powerful enough to send Patrick’s sword into the air.

"Goddess!" Alphonse fearfully squeaked.

All of that happened so fast while Elliot was still trying to recover from the surprise that the battle had already started without any warning. By the time Rean harshly shoved Patrick down to the ground and turned his attention to Alphonse, Elliot decided now was a good time to at least establish a combat link with Rean.

CLICK

The comforting sound of an ARCUS link being established reverberated through the whole room and time slowed, much to Elliot’s relief. Everyone’s link had different characteristics depending on their own strengths and abilities. For example, linking up with Gaius tended to bring forth feelings of serenity and faintly granted him the ability to read the wind. Fie’s link was also calm but had a calculating edge to it, while granting him more insight. 

With Rean, well, his link never had any sort of feelings attached to it, but its shared ability slowed down time. Okay, not exactly, it was more like Elliot’s reaction time sped up which made it feel like time slowed down for him. It was a great boon to have when Elliot felt like things were going on too fast or he needed to catch up on what was happening, like right now. 

(Or maybe not, because it seemed like the duel was just about to end.)

Rean had finally moved close enough to Alphonse so that the tip of his sword was just in range of the caster. With his tachi by his side, his arms began to swing in a horizontal manner and— 

T̷̥̱̟̬̜́H̷̡̻̥͓̆̈̎̾͗Ủ̴̢̹̤͖̲̪͈̠̥M̵̻͍̾̃̄̍͗̍͑͝͠P̸̠̎̈́̌̽̾͆͘͠

Ah— 

Blackness descended upon his vision, almost entirely erasing all the colors and lines into nothingness. His sense of hearing was in the same shape, processing all of the sounds of the crowd or from the fight like he was behind a glass wall, leaving him to feel like he’d just been dropped into some cold, semi-empty void.

Without warning, a slight pain flashed against the front of his arms and legs. His sense of position told him he'd just fallen against the floor and the sudden impact made him gasp— 

But his lungs couldn’t catch any air. What— Where was the air?! If there was no air, then he couldn’t breath— 

S H A T T E R

The screeching sound of breaking glass was never pleasant to the ear, and the uncomfortable scratchiness of it was painfully amplified after being deprived of sound for however long.

What… What was that?! Did Rean just shatter their link?!

“Hahaha, I can’t believe this! The highly praised members of Class VII can’t even manage to link together properly?” Alphonse’s victorious laugh rang throughout the room, joined by the other disgusting laughs of mockery that echoed from many members of the noble audience, painfully ringing in Elliot's ears. 

A deep breath and a violent shudder tore through Elliot’s body against his will, but he forced himself to pay attention back to all the action even through teary eyes and faded vision.

Immediately, he felt like his breath was stolen from him again.

Rean’s back lay completely flat against the ground, his body pinned by how Alphonse walked over him and planted his foot against his chest. Faint embers and smoke lingered around Rean and the cloth around his shoulder was seared, indicating that the noble’s art managed to land on him. Judging by Rean’s stuttered breaths and trembling limbs, he clearly didn’t take the link shattering or the attacks inflicted on him well. 

“You may have caught us off guard at the beginning, but the element of surprise is all you have, fake noble trash!” Alphonse sneered down, putting all his weight on the leg pressed against Rean’s chest as he used his other leg to kick the tachi away. “You lack the elegance of a true noble, the gracefulness of a true swordsman, and the glory of a true student from this esteemed military academy! Hidden underneath your name and pretty face is nothing but a barbaric monster!”

Alphonse was now huffing and puffing, extremely riled up despite how he had a somewhat calm disposition until now. Elliot didn’t care about that though, because his own blood was starting to boil, making him forget the potential humiliation that was arising from this scene. Sure, Rean was recently acting so strange that it confused the heck out of Elliot, but he would not sit back and listen to his friend get slandered like this!

…If only his arms could stop shaking to firmly grasp his orbal wand so he could drown this guy…

The tip of Alphonse’s sword hovered just a rege above Rean’s face. “Let me at least do you a favor by fixing your face so everyone can see that true barbaric nature of yours.”

 

The blade dipped.

 

“That’s enough.”

“Gah!”

CLANG

In the blink of an eye, Alphonse managed to raise his sword to block the incoming strike of a masterfully crafted greatsword. However, preventing his skin from getting carved was the only thing he managed to do. He couldn’t avoid getting pushed out and away several arge from Rean, nor could he ignore the cold, steel bite from the gunblade on the front of his neck.

Behind him, Fie’s poisonous green eyes glowered at him. “Make a step toward him, and you’re dead.”

Alphonse’s eyes bulged from the threat and from watching Laura pin him with a deadly glare of her own as she protectively stood before their downed classmate.

“Y- You’re breaking the rules!” He yelled at them before snapping his gaze toward the sidelines. “Referee!”

He only saw Jusis standing where the previous referee had been. 

Jusis innocently glanced to the side where Millium was standing victoriously over the noble referee who was being restrained by Airgetlam while Machias was pointing his shotgun at him to make sure he didn’t move. 

“Oh my, I’m afraid the previous referee is currently out of commission, so I’m standing in for him.” His icy gaze shifted to join Laura and Fie’s efforts to ruin Alphonse with their eyes alone. “And, as referee, I say that the duel is over and should’ve been over a few minutes ago.”

“You can’t just decide that when no one has lost yet!” The noble looked around to the crowd for approval but quickly discovered that they were all… silent.

In front of them, Emma awkwardly coughed while adjusting her glasses. "Aha… I think everyone's ready for this show to end." 

Lastly, Alphonse's eyes darted to his dueling partner, only to see Gaius sitting next to Patrick, who looked like he was having an existential life crisis.

While an icy breeze somehow blew past him, Gaius calmly smiled as he placed a gentle hand on Patrick's shoulder. "Mm, he's currently busy enlightening me about your unique, individual perspectives as nobles."

Goddess, Elliot's classmates were terrifying.

“Rean!” Alphonse snarled as he snapped his attention back to Rean, who tried to sit up with the strength of his wobbly arms. “Are you so useless that you need others to end your battles for you?! Are you so weak that your classmates know that you can’t protect yourself?!”

“Oi,” Fie hissed, her grip on her weapons tightening and vowing a bloody promise. “You wanna say that again?”

That was enough to finally get Alphonse to shut up.

But the damage was done.

Wordlessly, Rean pushed himself up to his feet and turned around. From his angle, Elliot could finally see Rean’s face, but his raven hair shadowed his eyes. Only his gritted teeth showed his quaking frustration, the most emotion he’d shown all day. 

With wide eyes and closed mouths, everyone watched him walk over to his sword and sheath it. By the time he continued to walk forward, clearly heading toward the exit, Elliot was able to get the strength to stand up.

“Rean…” Elliot reached out to his friend, wanting to tell him that everything was fine despite the disaster that happened, despite all the confusion consuming him from within.

(Seriously… Forget what happened at the duel. What were those sensations when they linked up? What did it mean for Rean to sever the link?)

Before his hand could make any contact, Rean burst into a sprint, wasting no time in leaving through the exit. Only growing in more confusion, Elliot gave chase, ignoring Alphonse’s yells of “Fleeing?! How cowardly!” and ignoring how he bumped into Instructor Neithardt by the door.

Oh, there were going to be some consequences for what happened today…

But that didn’t matter at the moment! All Elliot needed to do was focus on Rean and chase him however far, even though his current physical abilities would inevitably make him lose track of his black-haired friend.

Though… Oddly enough, the distance between them was slowly growing smaller, as if to mean Elliot was faster than Rean. But that shouldn’t have been possible. Elliot was already one of the slowest members of the class and he was already exhausted. Unless… Rean was significantly more exhausted than him.

They made it to the front space of the Old Schoolhouse by the time Elliot completely caught up, mostly because Rean suddenly stopped, leaned over a fence, and—

Barfed.

The retching sounds made Elliot realize that he was also feeling kind of dizzy which made him remember how Sharon said Alisa was vomiting all morning. Was this some kind of side-effect from the link shattering? But Machias, Jusis, Laura, and Fie never mentioned this before…

Only trying to help, Elliot once again reached his hand out to at least hold his hair out of the way of any vomit, but his wrist was sharply gripped in place before he could touch anything and—

Ow.

Rean’s grip on his wrist was too tight, so painfully tight. The blood circulation to his hand was probably being cut off and he felt like his bone was on the verge of fracturing. He couldn’t not wince or bite out a whimper.

Ow ow ow— 

“Rean…” What the heck was happening? Did Rean even know he was inflicting pain? He was still in the middle of coughing out the rest of the acid in his mouth. “That hurts..!”

The pressure on his arm instantly loosened.

"S—" Rean cut himself off but his raspy voice unintentionally promised more pain while failing to hide a terrifying desperation. Without any warning, he then shoved Elliot's arm away and stepped back.

It was then that Elliot caught a glimpse of the eyes hiding under those bangs. A chaotic swirl of screeching fear and wailing despair heavily danced behind those glassy orbs, threatening to shatter completely.

Shatter…

Like the links shattering. First with Alisa. Now with Elliot. Maybe those were signs that he was on the verge of... breaking. Maybe Rean knew and that was why he said their link was severed forever and why he adopted an icy personality overnight.

Maybe...

And that was the moment he realized what he'd been missing from the picture this entire time: Rean needed help. 

Technically Elliot already knew that. The guy clearly struggled with trauma based on what he already knew and heard. But he thought it was fine because Rean acted mostly fine. He was usually so confident, unrelenting, and helpful that he didn't appear to need much help.

But… Beholding this rare, vulnerable expression of his friend, Elliot could foretell incoming destruction if nothing was done.

Whether it was to himself, to others, or to everyone was anyone's best guess, but something was going to be irreversibly changed soon.

How did he not see this before?

As if to answer his question, Rean took a deep breath. It was like a fascinating and terrifying curtain had been drawn in front of him, the tremors of his body vanished, his scowl turned into a light frown, and his eyes muffled their cries.

Indifferent again.

What… the heck did he just witness?

"Rean..?"

"Stay away from me," he darkly muttered before walking away.

And Elliot just watched.

He didn't know what to make of what he just saw. He didn't know what he was supposed to do. He didn't know what was the right thing to do.

Rean wanted him to stay away, but how could he after seeing that? How could he just leave his friend—the guy he owed so many favors to—alone like this?

Elliot couldn't. There was no way.

Rean needed help. 

Desperately. 

Suddenly, he was reminded of the incident in their childhoods, when Rean once held his hand out.

“Dad said it’s super hard to help people who don’t reach their own hand out.”

He could resolve to help all he wanted but…

Elliot gulped nervously as he held up his wrist, where a hand-shaped, throbbing bruise was sure to bloom.

...This was not going to be easy.

 

Notes:

Elliot's caught up! He was last because he had a special secret :3 Man, Rean chose the worst time to be super angsty. Also I may have gotten a bit self-indulgent about the protective Class VII part. Please forgive me but I have no regrets. I hope you at least enjoyed the... Many... Class VII interactions *exhausted sigh*

If you can tell what the ghost’s humming means, honestly big kudos to you.

I probably should’ve explained the unique combat link characteristics depending on whoever the link is with, considering I’ve been planning this since Chapter 4 and I had a bunch of chances to explain it since then. BUT Rean’s mostly oblivious to it for reasons and then I forgot because there’s so many other things to keep track of and— Yeah. Sorry about that lol.

I’m really sad that I lacked the foresight to create a bully character at the beginning of the story LIKE I COULD’VE HAD MORE BUILD UP TO THE DUEL SCENE SO IT WOULD HIT HARDER AND BETTER. Is it too late to insert "Rean gets bullied" scenes in an early chapter? XD Anyway, thanks @fuwaatan for letting me know about the Henzel barony and reminding me that bullying is a thing. :3

---

To be continued in “Chapter 19 - Chasing Shadows”
In which Machias is ready to commit homicide, Jusis finds it really difficult to not add names to the hit list, and Laura questions what it means if a friend... becomes an enemy.

Chapter 19: Chasing Shadows

Notes:

Yeah I have no excuse for this word count. I really don't, but just know you're suffering with me lmao.

Also. Um. I know time zones are still a thing, but it's still March here for me so I made it lol. Here’s March’s chapter~

WARNING: Implied suicide and cursing in the beginning, mild swearing throughout (one day I'm gonna update these tags too).

 

(If you read this entire fic after 3/10/2022, then ignore this) There are new scenes in:
Chapter 4 - A Lasting Warmth
Takes place after Sara's POV, but before Rean meets up with Alisa, Crow, and Angelica.
Chapter  7 - Unveiling the Mirror
One scene takes place after Rean hangs out with the upperclassmen, but before Machias throws a napkin at him.
The scene after Rean and Laura's sparring match is slightly altered.
Chapter 11 - My Hatred; This Illusion
Takes place while Millium and Rean are talking about Crow, but before Crow actually arrives.

Damn them.

 ̷͇͔͈̫̣̂̍͗̎     ̷͊͜    ̵̯̾     ̴̢̛͈̂̀̑    ̶̧̨̝̀̎͛̇̚͜    ̴͕̩̏̒͠   .̵̢̰͈̱̩͓͑ 

“Checkmate!” Machias’s eyes sparkled in glee as he triumphantly slammed his queen down on the board, completing the last piece of his brilliant strategy to trap his dad’s king. “I finally beat you!”

His dad rubbed his chin, making no effort to hide the pinch in his eyebrows or the slight drip of sweat running down the side of his face. “Bested by a nine year-old… I thought it would take at least ten more years before you could beat me…”

“Instead of moping around like a grumpy old man, how about celebrating the victory of your prodigy *cough* *cough* and your complete and utter loss with me?”

“Oh, I’ve really set myself up for failure, huh?” Dad shook his head, but there was a spark of warmth in his voice. He then turned his head to the side where the sound of soft clinks of glass approached them. “Hey Elsa, I’m not that old, right?”

The green-haired woman gently smiled at him as she brought a tray of an entire tea set to their table. “You might be if you’re losing to children,” she giggled, before turning her mirthful gaze toward Machias. “Congratulations! Shall we celebrate with a tea party?”

“Yeah! But can we have coffee next time?”

“Aren’t you a little too young to be a coffee-addict?”

Machias smirked with a thumbs up. “Maybe. But I’m at least old enough to beat dad!”

His dad sighed. “Hey now, you can stop rubbing it in.”

Elsa chuckled, already pouring the tea into three teacups. “That sounds reasonable enough. From today onwards, our Little Macchiato is crowned the chess champion of the Regnitz household.”

STKGDHJKSJBD

“H- Hey wait, I didn’t agree to such a silly name—”

Dad’s eyes gleamed mischievously as he raised his tea cup in his air. “Cheers for our Little Macchiato!”

“Wait—!”

“Cheers!” Elsa clinked her tea cup with Dad’s before they took sips from their tea, ignoring how heavily Machias was blushing and stuttering.

.̶͎͌̀̄͆   .̵̢̰͈̱̩͓͑ ̴̜͚̜̈́͗̍̈́̈̃͜͝   .̸͙̉ ̶̢̎   .̷̮̕ ̷͇͔͈̫̣̂̍͗̎   .̶̟̼̏ ̸̧̦̋   .̴ ̴   .̶̧̡̤̫̻͓̜̗̪̠̤̭̱̤̟͖̇̿̽̈͂̏͛͛̿̕̚͝   

Damn them…

.̴̢͝   .̸̦͖̦̙̫̜̪̒̇̆̒    ̵̯̾     ̴̢̛͈̂̀̑    ̶̧̨̝̀̎͛̇̚͜    ̴͕̩̏̒͠   .̸̧͇̑̚

It was sunset when Machias was sitting on the steps to his home, happily swinging his feet as he waited for Elsa to return home. She had said that her boyfriend had some interesting books and was going to borrow some books for him to read.

His mind was a little heavy from the summer heat when he finally spotted Elsa’s figure in the distance. Her slow movements didn’t register as anything odd in his brain, nor did the vacant look in her eyes.

“Elsa!” he chirped, cheerfully getting up and running up to her. “You’re ba—”

“M- Machias?” Much to his alarm, her knees suddenly hit and scraped against the ground as she choked out his name. “W- What are you doing here?”

He cocked his head in confusion, unsure of what to make of her reaction. Was she… scared? 

Why would she be scared?

“I was waiting for you in front of our house.” 

Why did she look surprised she was so near their house? In concern, he reached out to grab her wrists, only to notice that they were trembling. “What… happened to you?”

“Don’t!” she suddenly hissed, tearing her wrists away from his grip and tilting her head down so that her bangs would shadow her face. “Don’t… look at me…”

“Why not?” She never acted so hostile before. Why was she like this? “I’m worried about you.”

“Don’t.” Her aching voice regained some composure as she forced out a chuckle. “Honestly, I’m fine. I’m just overreacting because I… completely forgot to get those books I promised you.”

“Huh?” He didn’t think she would look like on the verge of collapsing over something so insignificant, nor did he want her to react like this over some random books. “Oh that’s completely fine! There’s always next time!”

She weakly nodded, and his concern would’ve grown deeper if not for the reassuring smile that twitched upon her face. 

.̸̛̪̦͖̘̜͔̯́̓̅͐͐̄̏͊̿̐͘̚̚͜͠   .̸̢̠͓̭̓̌͝   .̴̧̣͍̩͊͗͌̓̐̆̒̈́̚̕   .̷̡̩̣̠̣̪̹̥̖̼̳̳͍̭̠̖̰̐̑́̈́̓̒   .̷   .̴̢͝   .̸͇̣̬͓̠̾

Worthless. Worthless! WORTHLESS! These nobles..!

In his hands were dozens of pieces of papers, most filled with filthy words only the worst scum could ever imagine.

—TEAR—

Repulsive insults and abhorrent death threats. All this time, she’d been subjected to…

—RIP—

But the worst one… was the one she wrote.

“I’m so sorry for what I’m putting you all through.”

—TEAR—

“I don’t mean to hurt any of you but I just can’t bear with this pain anymore.” 

—RIP—

Damn them..!

.̵̢̰͈̱̩͓͑.̶̨͇̳̻̝̬͓̻̺̰̹͙͓̫̪̓̄̋͘ͅ    .̷͙̮̗̟̥̓͒̈́̄́̈́̍̄̌̐̾̓̾̐̓̄̈́̇̐͋̉̈͆͘̚ͅ   .̷̮̕ ̷͇͔͈̫̣̂̍͗̎   .̴̸̢̡̧̦̣͔̗͎̲̣͈̥͙͉̱̲̙̥͓͖̘͍̤̦͊̋    .̸̛̟̻̳̝͉̘͐̅̔͊̿̈́͘   .̷̨͈͍͙̪͂͠͠   .̶̜̰̝̺͍̰̘̭͌̌̔̃̕͝

“Good morning, Little Macchiato!”

Two years had passed since that little incident, and he had never seen Elsa fall like that again. Surprisingly, ever since then, she’d been more full of energy in smiles. Every step of hers radiated peace and happiness, and he wondered what had happened to make her happier than before. She never answered him directly, only saying that something ‘nice’ happened with her boyfriend, Arthur. 

“Hey—” His voice cut off, eyes widening at the sight of her.

She was positively glowing, even more than usual. Her hair was all properly made with a delicate touch that was usually reserved for the nobles, and her clothes were all neat and elegantly thought out. Her shoulders were straight and her smile actually looked looser than usual.

She looked… free. Stunning. Relatively. 

 

But there were heavy shadows, scarred deep into her soul… 

He just couldn’t see them.

 

“Can you do me a favor? Would you mind watching over my tea set for me?”

He frowned at her in confusion. “But… You like tea more than me. Plus, isn’t this your treasure? Isn’t it a gift from your late parents? I don’t think I’d take care of it well.”

“It’s fine. It’s only for a little while. I trust you to keep it safe.”

“Okay..?”

.̷̡̩̣̠̣̪̹̥̖̼̳̳͍̭̠̖̰̐̑́̈́̓̒   .̸̢̠͓̭̓̌͝   .̴̧̣͍̩͊͗͌̓̐̆̒̈́̚̕   .̸̛̥̖̂̅   .̷͙̮̗̟̥̓͒̈́̄́̈́̍̄̌̐̾̓̾̐̓̄̈́̇̐͋̉̈͆͘̚ͅ   .̶̜̰̝̺͍̰̘̭͌̌̔̃̕͝   .̶̺̭̦͓͕͔̌̓͌̾ͅ

“I love you, Carl.”

—TEAR—

“I love you, Machias.”

—RIP—

.̴̱̩̭̊͌͆̊̉̂͘   .̴̡̢̝͙͚̳͔̥͈̼̮͛͌̇͋̔̓̊̏̄̎̏̔͋̕͜͠    .̴̢̡̦̣͔̗͎̲̣͈̥͙͉̱̲̙̥͓͖̘͍̤͊    ̶̧̨̝̀̎͛̇̚͜    ̴͕̩̏̒͠   .̷̢̡̢̖̻̯͚͆̌̉͛̒̍̚͠   .̷̱͂̈́͌̂́̑̉̍̌͐̓̽̅̒͝͝

“Elsa?” he knocked on the door weakly with his elbow. It was a bit hard to deal with the door when his hands were busy holding a tray full of fragile ceramics. “You there?”

Silence.

“I’m sorry if you’re busy, but I just have some tea here. The coffee shop temporarily banned me because I got into a heated argument with a noble and made a ruckus. But, I needed something to keep me focused, so I made a bunch of tea . It’s best to have it now before it gets cold, right?”

More silence.

Maybe she was sleeping?

“Elsa, don’t kill me for intruding in your room if you’re awake, but I’ll just leave a cup on your table.”

Letting one hand to carry the tray, he used his free hand to twist the knob. Softly, he opened the door and entered the room.

“Hey,” He opened the door with a frustrated sigh, eyes quickly roaming around for his quiet cousin. “You asle—”

He froze, eyes widening at the sight before him.

“El… sa..?”

She was silent. 

Instead, it was the ominous squeak of a stretched rope that answered him.

Her precious set of teapots and teacups shattered hollowly against the ground.

.̵̢̰͈̱̩͓͑ ̴̜͚̜̈́͗̍̈́̈̃͜͝   .̸͙̉ ̶̢̎   .̷̮̕ ̷͇͔͈̫̣̂̍͗̎   .̴̸̧̧̧̜̥͈̻͓͇͚̯̣̠̯͕̞̹̦̅̒̒͆͗́͒͐̒̎̍̌͗̈̇̌̿̓̋͜͜͝͠    .̴̡̢̝͙͚̳͔̥͈̼̮͛͌̇͋̔̓̊̏̄̎̏̔͋̕͜͠   .̷̡̦͕̟͇͈̼̟̮̼͓̹̩̗͍̭̥̙͇͙̿͜͝ͅ

“Again, I’m really sorry for leaving you like this, without a proper goodbye. ~Love, Elsa”

The shreds of tear-stained papers fluttered to the floor, along with an aria of salty water.

DAMN THEM ALL—

 

---

---

---

 

“Come on, Regnitz, have you seriously forgotten how to breathe?”

If he could, he’d trade his ability to breathe with the ability to erase all these noble scum from existence with a mere glare. Unfortunately, that was impossible, and the second best option—to pop holes into all these nobles—was also unavailable to him because Laura took his gun before he could do anything with it. 

(Who knew tolerating/befriending nobles would backfire on him like this?)

Machias sucked in a deep breath.

“Of course not.”

It was just that...

“Are you so useless that you need others to end your battles for you?!”

Sounded a lot like…

“Always hiding behind men like the useless whore you are? You don’t deserve Arthur.”

While...

“Are you so weak that your classmates know that you can’t protect yourself?!”

Sounded too close to…

“Wonderful, the commoner slut has gained enough self awareness to admit she’s weak. How about do us a favor and permanently cleanse the world of your filth?”

Red. 

Machias could see so much red. If a death sentence from slaughtering all these fools didn’t end him, then the popping of all his blood vessels was surely going to do the job. Seriously, it was times like these when it felt like all the nobles were all the same disgusting pieces of rubbish, making him wish that they would all just disappear!

But… More than all the anger hazing through his mind and pumping through his blood, he felt… sick.

Rean had already painfully reminded him of Elsa on the first day they met when he said he was fine after almost having a panic attack. Rean already had that innocent, fake smile down to a T, and it fooled him. Machias was looking—especially after that first incident with that Henzel bastard—but he let his guard down when Rean said he was already receiving help.

He didn’t think such a statement was a lie because to say he was getting help would mean Rean had some self-awareness that he actually needed help. Elsa, on the other hand, had never reached such a stage. In her letter, she didn’t think she needed help, only that she thought she was helping them by…

The rope swung and squeaked.

That.

Rean’s confession at Bareahard was supposed to mean that he was different. After all, why would someone refuse help if they knew they needed it?

 

Machias wanted to believe that Rean was different. 

 

He wasn’t.

Whatever happened between him and Alisa must’ve triggered something because he no longer hid behind that damned smiley mask of happiness. Machias thought he’d appreciate the day Rean stopped hiding behind a smile, but now he was blank. So. Utterly. Blank.

It was the same look on Elsa when he… found her that day.

So yeah, could anyone really blame him for panicking when he saw Rean like that?

Could anyone blame him for wanting to snap necks when he saw Rean silently leave after being verbally assaulted and publicly humiliated?

If anyone did blame him, they'd have to speak to his shotgun fir— 

"Regnitz."

Sigh

As much as he hated to admit it, Albarea was right. He really needed to calm down.

Deep breath…

Deep breath…

Deep breath.

 

Oh, screw this.

 

“WHAT THE HELL IS YOUR PROBLEM?!” Righteous, indignant fury bellowed out of his lungs, sending shivers up the spines of the conscious nobles. His angry footsteps stormed toward Henzel—the biggest bastard of them all—and decked him across the face, using seven years of hatred and trauma as his strength.

(And oh goddess, did that feel good.)

Henzel stumbled, as did Fie, who was still restraining him. A short glimpse at her slightly widened eyes showed that she was surprised by his act of violence but also didn’t disapprove of it.

“How dare you—!” With blood streaming down from his nose, Henzel spat at Machias’ shirt, the only offensive thing he could do in his position. “How dare you lay your filthy mitts on me! I’ll have you both suspended, grimey commoner and bloody jaeger!”

In response, Fie started to poke his unbruised cheek, nonchalantly saying, “Oh no, my jaeger cooties are getting onto you, what are you going to do?”

“YOU’RE ALL TRASH! I WILL DESTROY YOUR ENTIRE CLASS!”

Machias really ought to punch this guy again to shut him up, but some ounce of self-control did return to him. Getting another hit in might constitute as torture. 

“Says the one who’s been ruthlessly harassing Rean for at least two months! And did you also just conveniently forget that you were about to carve his face open?!” His hissed accusation echoed loudly throughout the room, surprising his classmates who hadn’t been aware of the former development. “It’s an absolute wonder how you’re still in this school!”

(Seriously, he remembered immediately snitching to the faculty about the incident, hoping Henzel would be banned from the school.)

“YOU DARE ACCUSE ME—”

SLAM

All heads swiveled toward the entrance, where Instructor Neithardt was now standing. His sharp eyes dutifully scanned the entire room before he let out a long sigh. 

"Anyone care to explain what I'm looking at?"

Machias blinked owlishly at the man, and then to the bloodied noble he was holding by the collar.

…Crap. It probably looked like Class VII was threatening everyone else. This asshole was probably going to spin the story and—

"Oh, nothing serious is going on," Henzel kindly replied, to the absolute shock of everyone around him. His face, which used to have so many angry contours, was suddenly relaxed, his scowl blossoming into an innocent smile. 

"You were informed of a duel between Class I and Class VII earlier, correct? This is simply the aftermath of the duel." Henzel continued, head nodding to Machias and then to the group of nobles still silent from Emma's spell. "Although we may have taunted them a bit too much, causing them to retaliate out of a sense of self-defense."

What..?

This guy was unexpectedly telling the truth while trying to make both sides appear as innocent as possible.  

Machias found his hand retracting from the noble's collar out of surprise, while Fie also released Henzel from her grip.

What the hell was this guy's goal?

Instructor Neithardt’s steel gaze then landed on Emma, ordering her, “First, Millstein, undo whatever magic you casted on those students.”

Said student squeaked in a panic. With another adjustment of her glasses, the students' eyes started to consciously blink into alertness. Their questions of what was going on started to rise with their combined voices, but Instructor Neithardt made a point to cough loudly, daring anyone to speak more. 

“Now then, does anyone from Class VII have anything to say about how Henzel described the situation?”

“Ooh, I do!” Millium bounced up and raised her hand, answering, “That Alphonse guy was about to cut Rean’s face, which was why we all went all whammy on everyone, to stop the duel!”

That was certainly one way to explain things. Though, now that Machias had calmed down, he wondered if maybe they did go too far…

(No. Nevermind that thought. They probably didn't do enough.)

The instructor nodded, pondering something in his head silently for a couple of seconds, before asking everyone else, “Anyone have anything else to add? Any complaints?”

Out of the corner of his eye, Machias noticed how Henzel and some of the bystanding nobles shared suspicious looks but kept their mouths shut. 

He didn’t like what that could possibly imply… 

“Since both parties agreed to the duel, I don't think any of you can complain if someone gets a little roughed up.” Instructor Neithardt then notably glanced at Henzel, whose nose was still bleeding. "Next time however, whenever you decide to spar or duel or whatever, please make sure to not severely damage each other. We don't need any students getting sent to the hospital."

"Will do!" Henzel chirped, gaining another round of suspicious looks from Class VII. Machias really didn’t like how this guy was acting all innocent in front of the instructor when, just moments ago, he was screaming for their heads. 

It was… unsettling. And annoying. He didn’t think it was possible for Henzel to be even more annoying than before, but here he was. 

“On that note then, Henzel, go get yourself checked out in the infirmary.” The man surveyed the entire room again before turning on his heel and walking toward the exit. Before he left, however, he let out another drawn out sigh, “As for the rest of you, don’t get in any more trouble.”

The sound of his heels clicking against the floor slowly faded away. Shortly after, Hyarms, Henzel and the rest of the noble audience followed after. They didn't bother hiding their confused or discontented grumbles as they left the remaining members of Class VII in the room. 

Machias was honestly surprised; he expected some of the more stubborn nobles to express their dissatisfaction over how the duel went (especially Henzel who was punched), but they all ended up leaving peacefully. 

(It was too odd. Some angry and  untrusting part of himself told him that this conflict wasn’t over.)

“So…” Albarea spoke up after the door fell shut again, icy blue eyes shifting and pining Machias in place. “What’s this about Rean being harassed for a while now? Clearly it’s more than the usual verbal assault if it has gotten you this riled up.”

Groaning from the memory, Machias pinched the bridge of his nose and answered, “Ugh, apparently Henzel has some personal beef with Rean, but I don’t know the details. Whatever it was at least made Henzel think it’s apparently okay to dump tea on people’s heads.”

He shivered uncomfortably, still remembering that stone cold smile that Rean wore during that incident, as well as the soulless look in his eyes…

“Ohh, so that’s the sabotage that Alphonse guy was talking about a few weeks ago!” Millium exclaimed in realization as she walked closer to their group. “Wow, I guess he still hates Rean’s guts!”

“I’m somewhat acquainted with Baron Henzel, since his barony resides within the Kreuzen Province. He and my father often have discussions,” Albarea muttered. “I didn’t realize that his son acted so… distastefully.”

Well, since Machias still thought a good portion of the noble population was still scum, he wasn't as surprised.

Only growing in concern, Gaius asked, “Wait a minute, this has been going on for two months?”

Machias shrugged, though he didn’t like the possibility that it might’ve been going on longer than that. “The first and worst I’ve seen was the tea dumping incident a couple months ago. The other things I’ve seen or heard were typical insults from typical, jealous nobles. Nothing substantial, considering they throw those insults at every commoner anyway.”

“Yup, same! I haven’t seen anything big either!”

The others quietly mulled that information over, thinking along the lines of how they didn’t notice earlier. Eventually, Laura hummed and pointed out, “But more could have happened behind the scenes that none of us here know.”

If only Rean was more receptive to the idea of sharing his problems with other people so they could get a better idea of how troubled he was. 

Staring back at the spot where Rean had collapsed, Laura then listed off, “So, some nobles haven't been treating him nicely. He also appears to have trouble maintaining his ARCUS link, and the resultant shatter appears to have led him and Elliot to collapse." 

Albarea huffed, “He certainly has a lot of explaining to do.”

Machias hated when he could agree with this guy.

“For now, however,” Laura continued, walking up to Machias and handing him back his weapon. With a concerned furrow of her eyebrows, she softly asked, “It’s clear that no one here was okay with what Alphonse said to Rean and how he almost cut his face. You, however, went ballistic. I’ve never seen you like that, even in the height of your anger towards me and Jusis.”

“What is going on with Rean is concerning,” Emma added. “But we can’t pretend that anyone else in our class doesn't have issues. You can always talk to us!”

Oh. Um… Did he really go too far? He could feel heat start to bloom in his cheeks out of embarrassment. 

“Or you could bottle up your feelings, wallow in your misery by yourself, and eventually implode on yourself, forcing us to deal with an even bigger problem down the line.”

Did Albarea really have to ruin the mood like that?

Ignoring his rival, Machias sighed, running a slightly shaky hand through his hair. “Let’s just say… What that Henzel bastard did hit far too close to home.”

So close to home that he pondered if he was projecting his feelings about Elsa onto whatever the hell Rean was going through right now. 

The others nodded quietly, letting him mull in his thoughts for a while longer.

Eventually Fie broke the silence with a snicker, a small smirk slowly blooming on her face. “Gotta admit, I always thought you’d punch like a toddler ‘cause of your noodle arms, but that was some impressive strength you showed earlier.”

Ahem, what. “Excuse me?!”

“You don’t exactly pack muscle, Regnitz.”

Was he not allowed to have a moment for one minute in his life?!

“So then…" Emma coughed, redirecting their attention to her. "Should we look for Rean and Elliot?"

Yeah—!

"Let's let Elliot deal with it," Gaius suggested. "Crowding him after what just happened might just make the situation worse for him."

Agh, that was a good point, even if Machias was tired of waiting. 

“In the meantime,” he continued, slightly turning to face the exit of the training room. “Back in class today, remember how Instructor Sara mentioned how Father Paolo from the Trista Chapel was going to look around the dormitories for the ghost at 1700? It's almost that time. Does anyone want to tag along?”

Because of the issue with Rean, Machias completely forgot about the ghost. 

Aidios, as if they didn’t have enough problems already!

“No..?” Millium promptly grabbed Albarea’s arm like his appendage would ward off evil spirits. “That’s scary!”

“Not scary enough for me,” Albarea promptly shook her off while walking up to Gaius’ side. “I’ll join the ghost hunt.”

“Count me in too,” Laura nodded and joined their group, followed by Emma.

Machias only shook his head, thinking that encountering that ghost again after everything that happened today was not going to be good for his blood pressure. Looking at their resident former-jaeger who made no effort to move, Machias asked, “Fie? You don’t want to tag along with them?”

Fie casually twirled one of her gunblades around with her fingers before sheathing them in their holsters. “I’ve already seen it twice. The whole ghost thing loses its fun when I can’t stab or shoot it.”

Right…

“We’ll see you back at the dormitories later then,” Gaius concluded for the class. “Assuming that you take the long way back.”

Seeing how Millium was trembling and pitifully staring at Albarea as if he had betrayed her, Machias muttered, "Yeah, I think we'll be taking the long way back…"

---

“Hey, Rean, are you okay? Don’t let that bastard’s words get to you, Henzel is dumb and probably jealous, so most of what he says is meaningless anyway. No one agrees with him, and even if people do, their opinions don’t matter anyway. And… Uh… 

“Your life is yours. Not theirs. You’re the one who has to… to live with yourself, so don’t listen to assho— people who give you no reason to hate yourself. So… Yeah.”

For the whole hour that he, Fie, and Millium were walking around Trista, Machias had been running conversations of the like in his head, preparing himself to say the right thing whenever he would see Rean again. He didn’t want to mess this up. If he did, Rean was probably not going to be the only resident in this dormitory with self-loathing issues. 

"Fie, do you know that feeling when you drink orange juice, thinking it's milk?"

"Hmm, can't say I do. I bet it's something like drinking tea, thinking it's coffee."

"Ooh, let's swap someone's beverages again!"

"Dunno about that. Macchiato here gave me a lame scolding for the last one."

"Then how about we target Sara's beer this time?"

"...I'm listening."

Of course, being so deep in thought, he missed all the child-like scheming Fie and Millium were doing behind his back. That was sure to spell tragedy in the future.

…

“Well, that looks haunted.” Fie’s nonchalant voice, somewhat louder than usual, broke him out of his concentration.

In response, Machias glanced at the dorms that were only a few arge away by now. The warm, orange glow of the sunset nicely reflected off the roads and buildings of Trista behind them. This had created a somewhat comfortable walk from their school to their dorm. 

However, from the angle the sun hit their dorm, a large, looming shadow was cast from the face of their building, blanketing them all with shade. He never thought about it before, but this was certainly… ominous.

RING

“Oh, great timing!” Millium failed to hide an anxious laugh as she pulled out her ARCUS. “I’ll wait here for a bit more, I gotta talk to Lechter!”

She ran off, leaving Machias and Fie under the darkening orange sky.

He owlishly blinked at her fleeting figure. “Who the hell is Lecter?”

“I dunno,” Fie nonchalantly shrugged. Just then, he could feel her eyes sharpen and pin him in place. Such a deep look of concentration on the usually lazy ex-jaeger reminded him of the time she asked him to participate in a gun duel. It made his skin rise slightly out of fear. “Anyway, can I ask you a question?”

“Uh huh..?”

Fie was usually blunt, straightforward and never asked for permission. Why would she start with a buffer— 

“You ever been depressed before?”

Lime green eyes snapped toward her indifferent expression, completely caught off guard. That question came out of literally nowhere! And, he didn’t have an immediate answer. After Elsa’s death, he’d been angry, extremely angry. Hell, he was still angry today about it. He might’ve been too angry to ever be depressed. 

“Maybe. I’m not sure,” he eventually replied after a heavy silence. “Why are you asking?”

Thoughtfully, she started humming a flat tone as her eyes glanced at the dorms ahead of them. “Just tryin’ to figure out what’s going on with Rean or Alisa. As you can tell, I’m not always great with words or dealing with other people’s emotions. I just wanna get a good idea of what they’re feeling, so I don’t say stuff I might regret,” she muttered. “Somethin’ like that.”

For someone who was raised by jaegers, Fie had a lot more insight than him. Machias didn’t even stop to consider what their feelings were. He just saw a problem, and his immediate thought was to get to the bottom of the problem (until the whole duel had gone down.)

Maybe he really needed to sit himself down and think everything through…

“Considering what happened to Alisa, I would say she’s definitely in the grieving process, and she has every right to be. As for Rean…” Alarm bells kept ringing in his head, reminding him of Elsa Elsa Elsa. “He’s a mystery, and it doesn’t help that he’s intentionally masking his feelings. Though I don’t doubt that duel did nothing to help his emotional state…”

“Got it.” Fie yawned as she began to stretch, moving her arms behind her back and turning her head to look behind them. At once, her mouth turned into a lazy smirk. “Oh, hey Elliot.”

Machias twirled around to find their orange-haired friend shyly walking toward them. He greeted them back with a smile, though he looked oddly pensive. 

Not missing a beat, Machias was ready to release his questions, “Are you okay? What happened during that duel that made you and Rean drop?”

“O-Oh, um, I’m not exactly sure either,” he hastily answered as he strangely kept his right arm tight to his chest. “I can’t explain it exactly, but the ARCUS kind of… reacted weirdly? And my body kind of reacted by going into shock, I think.”

For Elliot’s body to go into shock because of the ARCUS..? “What the hell, that sounds terrifying!” 

Fie raised her brow in curiosity. “Wow, didn’t know these devices could malfunction like that.”

“For some reason, I don’t get the feeling that it was just a malfunction,” Elliot nervously scratched his cheek. “I’m like… really worried. I don’t want to say this without concrete evidence, but I think the issue was more related to Re—”

“Your arm,” Fie abruptly cut him off, glaring at the appendage he was clutching. Without wasting another second, she grabbed his arm and rolled up the sleeve, revealing a badly wrapped bandage that circled a few times around his wrist. “Suspicious. What happened to it?

Immediately, Elliot withdrew from her and winced as he rolled his sleeve back up. “I— Uh..!”

The burning rage was already building back up. With a low, accusing voice, Machias spoke through gritted teeth, “Was it a noble?”

“Um..!”

“I did it.”

The trio immediately spun around, away from the dorms, their troubled classmate. In hindsight, Rean steadily walked toward the dormitory, looking none the worse for wear. Other than how his shoulder was slightly tinged from the duel earlier, he seemed physically fine. 

But, with how the sunset was bouncing off the edges of his hair while his bangs overshadowed the exhausted look on his face, it reminded him too much of the time Elsa had collapsed when she returned home.

Machias almost choked. It was like history was repeating itself before his eyes. 

Hand already reaching out to his classmate, Machias hesitantly spoke out, “W- What do you mean you did it?” 

Rean side-stepped, avoiding Machias’ hand completely as he continued his path toward the dormitory. Fie watched his movement with great interest while Elliot observed in concerned trepidation. For Machias, frustration was only growing and gnawing at his gut. 

“It’s fine! He didn’t mean to do it!” Elliot tried to explain, only to be shot with a lilac glare. However, Rean merely sighed instead of inserting another rebuttal as he continued to walk toward the dorm. 

“W- wait!” He couldn't just say that and not give any kind of explanation! 

The teen continued his silent treatment as he reached the doors.

Before Machias could impulsively snap and demand Rean to stay for a much needed talk, Millium apparently returned, yelling out in warning, “Wait! They’re hunting ghosts in there so it might be dangerous!”

Rean showed no indicythat he heard, not even pausing. He just pulled the door open and walked inside. 

Machias had the mind to march in after him, but a small hand suddenly wrapped around his arm. He looked down to see Millium confidently grinning at him, like she knew exactly what she was doing. 

“Lechter says that people need alone time after stressful events!” she chirped.

Everyone just stared at her in confusion. Sure, Machias was somewhat clear-headed enough to find truth in her words; however, Rean accusing himself of harming Elliot seemed like an issue that should be IMMEDIATELY addressed. And also:

“Seriously, who the hell is Lechter and why the hell should I care what he says?!”

---

Elliot waited until they regrouped with the class to explain what happened during and after the duel so that he only had to explain once. So, when the ghost investigation ended (without success, but the priest said he would check again for the next few days), they ate dinner together while he told his story. 

Again, he went over how the ARCUS link affected him, causing him to collapse and feel slightly sick. Obviously, Rean must’ve felt the same effects, considering how he had also collapsed during the duel and apparently ran away to vomit. That was when Elliot tried to comfort him, but Rean reacted defensively, resulting in the bruise.

“Since it seemed like an instinctive reaction, I don’t blame him,” Elliot admitted, holding his arm out for Emma to heal the injury. “He seems really prone to aggression and violence right now, and it’s kind of scary to be honest, but I think it’s… I think it’s a cry for help.”

Everyone quietly mulled over those words for a while. The thought of Rean hurting any of them was absurd, to be honest. No one would’ve believed it if they weren’t currently seeing it. 

Unsure of what to say about Elliot’s story, Machias focused on the latter part, “We can’t exactly help him with anything if we don’t even know what the problem is. Maybe I should corner him in his room and not let him leave until he answers questions.”

Gaius held his hand up in a halting gesture at the suggestion. 

“You can’t seriously be telling me to be patient and wait again!”

“Consider what he’s been through today, and consider how he’s been hostile to us this whole time. If you press the issue too much and too fast, he’ll run.”

“He can’t exactly run if he’s stuck in his room.”

“Machias.”

“Sorry.” He was just… impatient. Incredibly so. He felt like time was ticking and all he’d been doing was wait!

As if sensing his inner turmoil, Laura gently sighed. “The last two days have been quite… stressful for all of us. As understandable as it is to worry about our troubled classmates, we’ll only burn ourselves at this rate. I suggest we all try to relax tonight, and then we’ll pick this back up tomorrow.”

Easier said than done. Even when Machias forcibly tried to distract himself by doing his schoolwork, his mind kept returning back to his classmates.

Of course, because of that, the night was mostly a sleepless endeavor. Especially when he was plagued— 

.̷̡̩̣̠̣̪̹̥̖̼̳̳͍̭̠̖̰̐̑́̈́̓̒   .̸̢̠͓̭̓̌͝   .̴̧̣͍̩͊͗͌̓̐̆̒̈́̚̕   .̸̛̥̖̂̅   .̷͙̮̗̟̥̓͒̈́̄́̈́̍̄̌̐̾̓̾̐̓̄̈́̇̐͋̉̈͆͘̚ͅ   .̶̜̰̝̺͍̰̘̭͌̌̔̃̕͝   .̶̺̭̦͓͕͔̌̓͌̾ͅ

“I don’t mean to hurt any of you but I just…

“...can’t bear with this pain anymore.”

.̴̱̩̭̊͌͆̊̉̂͘   .̴̡̢̝͙͚̳͔̥͈̼̮͛͌̇͋̔̓̊̏̄̎̏̔͋̕͜͠    .̴̢̡̦̣͔̗͎̲̣͈̥͙͉̱̲̙̥͓͖̘͍̤͊    ̶̧̨̝̀̎͛̇̚͜    ̴͕̩̏̒͠   .̷̢̡̢̖̻̯͚͆̌̉͛̒̍̚͠   .̷̱͂̈́͌̂́̑̉̍̌͐̓̽̅̒͝͝

—by nightmares. 

Yeah, no. He couldn't wait anymore.

His heart was racing when he woke up. The blankets had already been thrown off himself before he leaped out of bed with the mission to finally, finally have a productive conversation. After changing into his uniform, he marched across the half-empty hallway and toward his destination.

Right here and now, Rean was going to talk to him whether he liked it or not—

"Good morning, Master Machias."

Sharon popped out of nowhere and innocently blocked his way.

Dammit! 

"Good morning, Sharon," Machias greeted back while his narrowed eyes were trained on the locked door behind her. "Is there a reason why you're blocking Rean's room?"

The maid wore an apologetic smile as she slightly bowed her head forward. "Master Rean has told me that he is feeling unwell today and would like to be undisturbed as he rests."

What in the world..? So, Rean was completely fine with speaking to Alisa's maid but nobody else?! And Sharon, the maid of the girl whose heart he broke, was completely willing to go with it? 

How did any of that make sense?!

And dammit, that meant he had to wait again to talk to Rean! Agh!

Rapidly tapping his foot in frustration, he looked back through the hallway to see that everyone else’s doors were open. Change of plans then.

"Is Alisa feeling any better?"

"Yes, she is feeling better and has departed to school already. In fact, Master Machias, considering you seem to have overslept, you are the only student in this dorm besides Master Rean."

Maybe he couldn't talk to Rean yet, but he was sure not going to miss the opportunity to interrogate Alisa and get to the bottom of things.

Promptly, he thanked Sharon for sharing that information and grabbed a quick cup of coffee from the kitchen. He paced himself quickly to school, mind racing with waves of questions he was going to ask.

Nothing was going to stop him this ti—

“Hey, it’s my man, Macchiato!”

DAMMIT!

He had reached the stairs at the main entrance when a sudden weight slumped itself across Machias’ shoulders and pulled him forward into a leisurely walking pace. He irritatedly looked to his side to see Crow cheekily grinning at him and immediately decided to shrug the upperclassman off his shoulders.

“What the hell? Don’t surprise me like that!” And what was with that nickname? How did it spread around so quickly?

Crow cocked his head slightly, a mischievous glint sparking in his eyes. “Sheesh, it wasn’t much of a surprise! Ol’ Crow’s gotta teach you about a special something called situational awareness. You always gotta be ready in the chance some beautiful, fair maiden runs into your arms~” 

Shaking his head, Machias crossed his arms and directed a pointed glare at the other. “Give me a good reason why I shouldn’t call Towa to haul your ass to class before you potentially add another tally to your tardy record.”

Crow’s hands immediately shot up in surrender and let out a dramatic sigh. “You underclassmen really ought to treat your seniors with more respect! Buuuut, since I’m so nice, I’ll give you a run down of your state of affairs.”

“...What affairs?”

Crow amusedly snorted as he pointed at the area around them. Slowly and quietly, he repeated,” S i t u a t i o n a l   A w a r e n e s s~”

Machias’ eyes furrowed, looking around the hall. Nothing seemed out of the ordinary, all the walls, stairs, and floor were well-maintained. The lights from the ceiling were bright, although unnecessary because of the natural light filtering from the clean windows. The only thing here that could be of interest were the clusters of students in the distance, all whispering and making not-so-subtle glances at…

…Himself?

Students talking and impeding traffic in the hallways was normal, but Machias only just noticed the abnormal amount of space between any pair of students and him and Crow. Keeping his eyes trained on one of the students who briefly pointed at him, Machias took a step forward.

To his utter befuddlement, the students—nobles and commoners—in the distance ahead of him moved away, as if they were making space for him.

What the hell?

“Man, they really are treating you like you got the plague!” Crow raised his brow, still amused by the situation. In a lower voice, he answered Machias’ thoughts, “Apparently overnight, some rumors about your class spread like a wildfire, tanking your reputation to the sweet abyss~”

“What.” 

“Yep. I heard stuff about Fie being a bloodthirsty, sadistic jaeger and Emma being a cruel witch whose aim is to brainwash half the male student population into joining her ultimate harem.”

What?!

“Apparently there’s also some conspiracy theory going around that Gaius’ people worked with the terrorists to help spark a war between Erebonia and Calvard, so they kinda see him as an enemy to the country.”

WHAT?!

“And last but not least, they call you a violent fussock with anger problems who is likely to break noses at whim.”

First, what even was a fussock?! Second, oh it was so obvious where these xenophobic and classist rumors came from. Why did he not expect that the nobles from yesterday would hit back with some kind of revenge?

“Do people actually believe in this BS?!” It was so ridiculous! Machias would probably laugh if people weren’t actually taking it seriously. 

Crow not-so-subtly whistled as he glanced at the crowd of students keeping their distance from them again. They were all muttering quietly, staring darkly back at them. It was fairly disturbing and unsettling, giving Machias the uncomfortable sense that he was unwanted here.  

“I wouldn’t say everyone. My upperclassmen buds don’t believe a single word. The people who know you well probably don’t believe it. But, I’d say a fairly good portion of the student population here does.”

Great, another problem to add to his ever-growing list of things that made him want to bash his head against a wall. 

“But seriously, what’d you guys do to ruin your reputation so hard? It's even worse than my own!” Crow nudged him with his elbow, as if the gesture would encourage Machias to reply. “I heard a duel went down between you guys and Class I. It must’ve been quite a one-sided battle if it resulted in them being so butthurt about it that they would have to resort to dirty tactics.” He whistled again and smirked. “Man, I wish I was there to see the fight.”

Machias ignored the last comment, not wanting to divulge how disastrous the actual duel was. Instead, an idea cut across his mind and he decided to pursue his curiosity. “Hey, you talk to Rean often, right?”

He earned a raised brow, Crow obviously being confused by the sudden change in topic. “Yeah..?”

“Have you talked to him when we got back from the field studies?”

Crow shrugged. “Kinda? I tried talking to him yesterday evening when I saw him, but he just ignored me. Maybe he also needs a good whack of ‘situational awareness’ against his head.”

Considering what happened to Rean during the duel yesterday, maybe that wasn't too shocking. Though Machias did wonder… Was Rean avoiding everyone, or only members of Class VII?

Clearly, with how he apparently talked to Sharon, he couldn't just be trying to socially isolate himself…

“What’s with that question? Is he related to the sudden plethora of rumors going on about your class? I didn’t think so at first, considering the gossip says nothing about him.”

“No, he’s just been distancing himself from everyone lately,” Machias sighed, deciding to give Crow the general gist of what was going on, but nothing too specific. At this rate, Crow would’ve noticed this anyway. “We’re still trying to figure out why.”

Crow inconspicuously hummed, placing his hand underneath his chin. “Sounds rough.”

“Rough indeed. Which is why it would be wise of you to behave yourself around him.”

“What are you talking about? I’m always on my best behavior!”

Well, if all the stunts Crow pulled off in school were his best behavior, Machias didn’t want to know what his worst behavior looked like.  

“Just… go to class,” Machias waved him off while checking his wrist watch. Just a minute left until the bell would ring. “I’ll go deal with…” his eyes flatly stared at the vast space still separating them from the wary students. “Whatever this is.”

Crow light-heartedly patted him on the shoulder. “Alright then, feel free to call me anytime you need anything! I may or may not answer!” He began to stalk away toward the corner of the hallway. Suddenly, he stopped just to glance back and make a salute at Machias. “Also, situational awareness~”

“Huh?”

“Ah—!”

Something heavy barreled into him from the stairs, knocking the wind out of his lungs as he crashed into the floor. “Goddess, I'm so sorry! Are you okay, Machias?”

Emma hastily climbed off of him in embarrassment. When she was steadily on her feet, she reached out a hand to help pick him up.

"I'm fine, thanks," he breathed out as he took her hand and stood up. Upon hearing some snickering from above the stairs, he looked up to see a trio of noble girls looking down at them, not at all concerned about their collision. "Emma, did they..?"

"I- I'm not exactly sure," she nervously admitted, suddenly looking down at the clutched novel in her hands. "I was a little bit half-asleep while getting here, so I accidentally bumped into them, lost my balance, and fell down the stairs."

Machias kept his narrowed eyes trained on the girls as they walked away. They were too smug and happy about it. There was no way this was completely an accident.

"Wait, are you hurt?! And have they done this before?"

"No, I'm fine… and this hasn't happened before, not that I'm aware of."

It wouldn't be far fetched if this behavior was a result of the rumors circulating around the school. Since they were being viewed as 'threats,' it wouldn't be surprising to witness some caution and aggression from whoever believed these rumors.

But still, shouldn't these people be more worried about their grades than dumb school gossip?!

"We should report them," he angrily gritted out.

Immediately, she tried to placate him. “It really could’ve been an accident!”

Seriously, first Rean, and now Emma. What was with his friends not wanting to call harassment out like it was?

“And even if it wasn’t an accident, they would probably get a small punishment. Then, they would get more aggressive.”

Argh, she had a point there. It was incredibly hard to get justice on nobles without any sort of evidence. “Fine.” He really hated the system. “Let’s just get to class then…”

The nobles could be dealt with later. For now, it was finally time to get some damned answers!

With Emma timidly following him, Machias marched up the stairs, glared at anyone who looked like they believed in those stupid rumors, and headed toward their classroom. The school bell rang just as he opened the door, although instead of taking his seat, his eyes darted to the owner of that twin-tailed blonde hair.

Alisa seemed to be trying her best to be ignoring everything that was going around her by staring at the paper on her desk, but he could see a nervous drop of sweat roll down her temple. 

"Ali—"

“Oh, looks like the class president and vice-president finally decided to show up. How kind of you.”

SLDJNKHNWFB AIDIOS, PLEASE— 

(To be fair, he shouldn’t have expected to get anything done when the school bell just rang.)

At the front of the classroom was none other than Vice Principal Heinrich, glaring back at them disapprovingly. Beside him was Instructor Sara, slumped against the blackboard, looking like she’d rather be anywhere but here. For once in his life, Machias could relate to her. Vice Principal Heinrich put no effort into hiding his favoritism for the nobles, making it hard to hold much respect from Machias. 

(The fact that Machias had more respect for Instructor Sara than this man… That was saying something.)

“You even look sleep deprived! Do none of you know the meaning of self-care? No wonder this class appears to be spiraling downhill if even the role models are slacking. Maybe it’s not such a surprise, given that neither are nobility.”

Machias managed to conjure enough willpower to not roll his eyes as he bit his tongue and went to his seat. Getting into an argument with the vice principal (again) was not going to be beneficial. 

“Anyway, I’m sure all of you are questioning why I am here,” Vice Principal Heinrich coughed, before holding numerous sheets of paper out in front of him. “It has come to my attention that there are many complaints about how your class operates. You can’t…”

Were they actually going to listen to a lecture about some BS? 

…

“And, as students of such a prestigious academy, this is unacceptable!” The vice principal finally finished his fifteen minute tirade, ending with an irritated huff and a scornful glare toward all the occupants of the room. 

Machias was actually surprised by his own self-control, managing to stay silent these past fifteen minutes without blowing a fuse. However, this was just… too ridiculous. He couldn’t believe the nobles would come crying to the biased vice principal, accusing the class of cheating in the duel and having no sense of honor (and the fact that they didn’t mention any of this when Instructor Neithardt had interrupted them was suspicious). The fact that this topic would be important enough for the vice principal to interrupt their class just to have this lecture was also absurd!

Before he could open his mouth and refute every single detail that Heinrich had spouted, Fie surprisingly raised her hand. 

“Is that it?” she yawned, much to the man’s growing frustration. “What was the point of this anyway? Not like we can do anything about a bunch of dumb rumors.”

“These aren’t dumb rumors! They’re witness testimonies from your honored peers, as if they would stoop low enough to spread lies!” 

Behind him, Instructor Sara didn’t bother to hide herself face-palming.

“Yes, they are lies; and yes, they would stoop low enough to spread them,” Albarea bluntly stated.

“Regardless!” Vice-Principal Heinrich ignored the statement while slamming his hands against the instructor’s desk. “There are other pieces of evidence that show your class isn’t doing well! High achieving students like you, Albarea, as well as Arseid and Regnitz have earned failing marks for your practical exams and field studies.”

“We literally received perfect scores for our last practical exam and field study though. Not to mention that our class came first place in the midterms.”

Albarea was ignored again. “Your other classmates appear to have declining grades recently as well. For students who had near-perfect reputations to be reduced to having failing grades and incidents of violence, that just does not sit well with the standards of the school! Obviously, the reasoning for that is due to the chaotic nature of this class! That is why…” 

Heinrich then opened up a folder that was on the desk and plucked out a piece of paper. He held it out, towards the class, for all to see. “That is why I proposed that an evaluation be done on your class!”

Silence.

Everyone just stared at him in ridiculed silence.

Finally pulling her weight off the wall, Instructor Sara side-eyed him and asked, “What do you mean by that?”

The vice principal sneered at her, looking annoyed that she didn’t catch on quickly. “Well, considering this class was partly a social experiment, it’s a surprise there’s no evaluation set in place to track your success. I know the board of directors have other intentions but, since you are all still part of this prestigious academy, you’re expected to do better than when you initially entered this school. So, with Vandyke’s approval, I will be inspecting your class for the next few weeks and I will determine if the mixing of the commoners and nobles is proving to have a detrimental effect!”

There was a desk. Machias stared at his desk. Perhaps if he slammed his head into it, he’d wake up from this nightmare because what even..?

“Good luck with that, pal,” Instructor Sara confidently waved him off. “The power of friendship’s on my kids’ side. You won’t find even a speck of dirt on them!”

Was this woman completely oblivious to the drama currently happening between Rean and Alisa? Between Rean and potentially the entire class?

“Also, you afraid of ghosts, Heinrich?”

Pretending that his spine didn’t suddenly stiffen up or that his fist was slightly trembling, Heinrich forced a cough. “N- no, I am not. What is with that random question?”

“Oh, nothing~” Instructor Sara merely smirked as she good-naturedly patted his back. “Anyway, are you done now? I got a class to teach.”

---

This marked the second day of school where Machias could not pay attention to a single thing taught in any of the classes. His eyes just kept drifting toward Alisa, while his mind was on the mess of problems that was facing his class. Ghost being a ghost, Rean and Alisa being drama, nobles being assholes, and Heinrich being annoying. 

Goddess, why. How did all of this happen in the span of three days?

Anyway, when the bell rang and marked the end of classes, Machias was ready to make progress on one of their problems.

“Alisa—”

“No.” Stubbornly closing her eyes and crossing her arms, she huffed and turned away from him. Everyone else in the classroom stared awkwardly. 

“I just want to know what’s going on—”

“No.” Her voice was adamant and final. “What happened between me and Rean will stay between us.”

Machias tried his best to stifle his impatience. “Look, I really want to respect your feelings and your boundaries but I need to know just one thi—”

Alisa’s chair screeched as it was pushed backwards, the girl standing up and grabbing all of her things. Without another word, she huffed and stalked out of the classroom.

…How was it possible that she was being more uncooperative than Rean yesterday? How?

“Gaius,” Machias muttered, defeatedly looking at the epitome of patience. “How much longer am I supposed to wait?”

Said friend smiled awkwardly, also uncomfortable with the lack of progress on their troubled classmates so far. “If they’re both being too stubborn, I suppose the only thing we can do is wait for them to open up to us.”

.̷̡̩̣̠̣̪̹̥̖̼̳̳͍̭̠̖̰̐̑́̈́̓̒   .̸̢̠͓̭̓̌͝   .̴̧̣͍̩͊͗͌̓̐̆̒̈́̚̕   .̸̛̥̖̂̅   .̷͙̮̗̟̥̓͒̈́̄́̈́̍̄̌̐̾̓̾̐̓̄̈́̇̐͋̉̈͆͘̚ͅ   .̶̜̰̝̺͍̰̘̭͌̌̔̃̕͝   .̶̺̭̦͓͕͔̌̓͌̾ͅ

“Again, I’m really sorry for leaving you like this, without a proper goodbye.”

.̴̱̩̭̊͌͆̊̉̂͘   .̴̡̢̝͙͚̳͔̥͈̼̮͛͌̇͋̔̓̊̏̄̎̏̔͋̕͜͠    .̴̢̡̦̣͔̗͎̲̣͈̥͙͉̱̲̙̥͓͖̘͍̤͊    ̶̧̨̝̀̎͛̇̚͜    ̴͕̩̏̒͠   .̷̢̡̢̖̻̯͚͆̌̉͛̒̍̚͠   .̷̱͂̈́͌̂́̑̉̍̌͐̓̽̅̒͝͝

Screw that. 

Elsa never opened up until the very end. Like hell he was going to risk that again with his classmates..!

Those were the thoughts that led Machias to skip Chess Club, go back to the dorms, and restlessly stand directly in front of Rean’s door. Sharon wasn’t at the dormitory at the moment, so he had to make this quick. Inhaling a sharp breath of air, he knocked on the locked door. “Rean? I’m sorry that you want time by yourself, but can we talk?”

Silence.

“Rean.”

Goosebumps were suddenly jumping from his skin while his heart was racing like there was no tomorrow when he still received no answer. Wasn’t this exactly like—

.̵̢̰͈̱̩͓͑.̶̨͇̳̻̝̬͓̻̺̰̹͙͓̫̪̓̄̋͘ͅ    .̷͙̮̗̟̥̓͒̈́̄́̈́̍̄̌̐̾̓̾̐̓̄̈́̇̐͋̉̈͆͘̚ͅ   .̷̮̕ ̷͇͔͈̫̣̂̍͗̎   .̴̸̢̡̧̦̣͔̗͎̲̣͈̥͙͉̱̲̙̥͓͖̘͍̤̦͊̋    .̸̛̟̻̳̝͉̘͐̅̔͊̿̈́͘   .̷̨͈͍͙̪͂͠͠   .̶̜̰̝̺͍̰̘̭͌̌̔̃̕͝

“Elsa?” he knocked on the door weakly with his elbow. It was a bit hard to deal with the door when his hands were busy holding a tray full of fragile ceramics. “You there?”

Silence.

.̶͎͌̀̄͆   .̵̢̰͈̱̩͓͑ ̴̜͚̜̈́͗̍̈́̈̃͜͝   .̸͙̉ ̶̢̎   .̷̮̕ ̷͇͔͈̫̣̂̍͗̎   .̶̟̼̏ ̸̧̦̋   .̴ ̴   .̶̧̡̤̫̻͓̜̗̪̠̤̭̱̤̟͖̇̿̽̈͂̏͛͛̿̕̚͝   

“Rean!”

Still. No. Damned. Response. 

Aidios. It was exactly like that time. The silence; the lack of response. The closed door. 

(The only thing missing was him holding a damned tray of tea).

If he looked inside this room, would Rean be..?

He banged on the door, more heavily and frantically this time. Either Rean was opening this damned door or he’d break it down.  “Rean! Open this door!”

Silence. This DAMNED silence was the only thing answering him..!.

It… It couldn’t be, could it? 

It couldn’t happen again—

“REAN!”

His aching knuckles hit air. 

The door had swung open, with Rean cautiously shielding a quarter of his body with the door. He looked nonplussed and a bit irritated from all the abuse on his door, but that was a much better sight than the vision Machias had predicted.

Machias let out a heavy sigh of relief, much to the confusion of the other. “Seriously, even if you want to ignore everyone, can’t you at least show some sign that you’re alive earlier?”

“What, did you think I was dead?”

Ah…

Instantly, Machias froze in place, staring at the teen in… what? Shock? Shame? Was there a specific name for the feeling of falsely accusing someone of suicide?

"You haven't… been yourself," Machias defended, though he couldn't not sound a little uncertain. "I was worried."

For some reason, he felt himself shrinking under Rean's scrutinizing gaze. Had he always been this intimidating?

After another minute, Rean finally replied, "So you were worried that I might’ve killed myself because I’m acting differently?”

Machias inwardly winced, not liking how the other was talking about such a sensitive topic so bluntly. “...Yes, and also because I’ve seen how you’ve been treated by those nobles. Since you’re keeping it to yourself, everything might seem hopeless to you right now.”

“So, you think Henzel is causing me to avoid you all?" Rean deadpanned, almost sounding offended and causing Machias to doubt himself. "I am… Well aware of how I’ve been behaving toward the class, and the reasoning is not related to Alphonse." 

He felt his gut sink. What other explanation could there be? 

“Why, then?”

Rean closed his eyes, inhaling a long breath and exhaling the same depth shortly after. When he was done, flat, lilac eyes stared back at Machias. “I can’t stand any of you anymore.”

His already thin patience was cracking and severely exposed, he could feel himself ready to blow up any minute. But he couldn't let himself lose his composure in front of Rean because this was a delicate ma— 

“You expect me to believe that?!” He was unfortunately not well known for his ability to maintain his composure, giving into his frustration and not caring how his voice bounced off the walls. 

Seriously, this was the guy who helped bail him out of jail despite running a high grade fever! Now, all of a sudden, he wanted everyone to believe he couldn’t stand them anymore?!

“There’s too much drama,” Rean muttered, continuing his absolutely ridiculous explanation. “You waste my time with nonsense and ask me for favors you never pay back. It’s destroying my grades and preventing me from improving myself.” He paused for a moment, suspiciously looking away from the other. "I decided that I don't want to deal with you guys much in my present or in my future." 

Aidios—! Machias was going to lose his damned mind! In some sense, that was technically true. Yes, they stirred up drama sometimes; yes, they asked Rean for favors often and still haven’t been able to pay back, only because Rean never wanted anything from anyone. 

Also… Rean never expressed any dissatisfaction with any of that until now? He had amusedly let the class drama unfold unless he needed to step in, and he had practically welcomed anyone who wanted his help! Why was he suddenly so against it now?!

Inconsistent. There was too much inconsistency; there had to be some kind of other reason. 

“THAT’S A LIE!” he indignantly slammed his fist against the door. “Dammit Rean, you can’t just say all that and pretend that your actual feelings these past three months were all a li—”

…What was that? 

The door had swung completely open from how he’d just hit the door, revealing what Rean was hiding. Over his shoulder, he was carrying a medium-sized knapsack. By his foot was a luggage bag, clearly full from the sleeve of a shirt peeking through one of the pockets.

“What is that for?”

It would’ve looked like he was moving out if not for the fact that there were still personal items laying around in his room. 

Rean tightened his grip on the string of the bag he was carrying, heaving out a sigh before replying, “Instructor Sara said she gave everyone the choice to stay somewhere else while the ghost situation is being investigated.” He glanced away from Machias’ burning, incredulous stare. “I’m sure you can tell what my choice was.”

What. Instructor Sara let him what? How the— “You were the one who walked toward the ghost and politely asked if it needed anything! How does it make any sense for you to be the one to want to leave because of the damned ghost?!” 

No— No. Reminded of Gaius’ earlier words of how Rean would run if pushed too far, it was obvious why he was actually leaving. Even if it made NO. DAMNED. SENSE. 

Deep breaths. Machias had to take deep breaths. Deep breaths. 

“Where will you be staying?” his voice hissed through clenched teeth, using all his strength to calm his boiling blood. 

“Considering my status, and the fact that the noble dormitories have some extra rooms—”

“YOU GOTTA BE KIDDING ME!” Hands were thrown high up into the air. With all the blood pumping, his brain worked fast, quickly catching onto the MANY flaws with Rean's decision.

This guy literally just said he couldn’t stand Class VII’s drama, but then, of ALL the places to choose— “You’re throwing yourself into a lion’s den! That Henzel bastard lives there, and he HATES you! A good portion of the nobles hate OUR class and, as much as you want to pretend you don’t belong here, you’re still a member of Class VII! You’ll—” He was choking over his words at this point. “You’ll die there!”

Rean snorted. 

As if this bombshell wasn’t enough to absolutely destroy Machias’ sanity, Rean had the audacity to snort. Like he found some amusement from this. Did he want to die?!

“It’s going to be fine,” Rean reassured him, donning on that small, fake smile. Considering he hadn’t reassured anyone since his return from the field study, Machias should’ve felt a tiny bit relieved that he caught a glimpse of the ‘old’ Rean, but he only felt a spiraling dread from his next words: “I won’t die.”

H- huh?

Frozen.

Machias was absolutely frozen at the utterance of those three words. Okay, so Rean was promising that he wouldn’t die, that should’ve been reassuring. But. Those words, spoken with such resoluteness, shouldn’t have sounded so sad, so regretful.  

“Wh- What do you mean by that?”

Rean only shrugged and picked up his bags. “It means don’t worry about me,” he muttered, brushing Machias’ stunned figure aside with his shoulder and moving toward the exit of his room. 

One last burst of angry energy pulsed through him. “How the hell is anything you’re saying supposed to help me stop worrying about you?!”

After one step out the door, Rean stopped. Sighed. And looked back at Machias like he was a fool. “Consider this my last warning.” His face suddenly sparked alive with emotion— with real emotion. His eyes were blazing with restless rage and his jaw was set to an upset scowl. “If you keep worrying about me for no reason, you’ll get in my way. If you get in my way, I will cut you down.”

...Huh?

What? Wh- what?

His words had been robbed from him, and his fading outrage had sapped all his energy. He couldn’t make himself do a thing as Rean wordlessly trotted away, leaving him alone in a half-erased room. 

Rean just threatened him. Threatened to even raise his sword against him. Was he just being delusional these past two days— these past three months thinking this was another Elsa situation? Clearly, by Rean’s declaration just now, this was the exact opposite of what he thought. 

What then? Instead of possible suicide, was he supposed to worry about possible homicide? Was he just supposed to let Rean further isolate himself because he suddenly gained a hatred for Class VII? Was he just supposed to accept this?

Could he accept this? Could he just accept Rean’s decision to give up on them? In turn, could he give up on Re— 

“I won’t die.”

His gut lurched. Dread was still weighing over him at the idea of just giving up on Rean. Aside from the blatant murder threat, there was still something very, very wrong here. He still felt like, if he did nothing, he would hate the outcome. 

What did Elliot say again? That Rean’s aggression was a hidden cry for help? That fit. That could make sense. But then, how could he help? He’d been waiting and talking and waiting and talking all this time and nothing was helping. Was he supposed to try to talk to Rean again then even if it kept failing? Didn’t Gaius say something about Rean running if he was pushed too far though? Couldn’t death also be a form of running away?

Goddess. This was too overwhelming. Or maybe it had always been overwhelming and he was only realizing it now because of the sleep deprivation and all his anger being sapped away. 

He truly… did not remember the last time he felt like this. Ever since Elsa’s death, there was always a vengeful flame burning within him, pushing him forward. Even at calm times, he still had hateful embers sparking somewhere deep down within him. 

Now however, at the prospect of being completely powerless and doing absolutely nothing to prevent another tragedy, the fire had been utterly smoked out. Somehow, without any of his usual frustration, he felt like his body was shutting down. Mind hazing a bit and fists weakly trembling, he felt utterly exhausted and hopeless. He had no idea what to do with himself.

…No. He still had to do something…

After who knew how long, some semblance of energy returned to him. Stumbling out of the room and down the stairs, he almost tripped over himself when he reached the lobby. It was at that moment that the door opened, and in walked Alisa.

Judging by the look of shock and concern on her face when their eyes met, some part of his mind registered that he must’ve looked awful. However, such a thought was only a whisper when desperation seized control of his muscles. 

“Alisa…” He was staggering like some sort of walking corpse until he reached her and grabbed her shoulders. The moment he could afford to shift any weight to his arms, he found his legs collapsing, bringing the two of them to the floor on their knees.

“M- Machias, what’s wrong..?” Whatever cold, indifferent facade she was wearing earlier was gone as she helplessly looked around the room. By then, he noted that the rest of their classmates were in the dormitory, either already inside or trickling inside now from the entrance. A small part of him cringed that Albarea was probably seeing him act so pathetic.

Regardless. “Please…” His throat was suddenly all dry, making his voice hoarse. Without his permission, a hiccup was torn out of his throat while tears…

…Was he actually crying? Seriously?

At least he knew Alisa was a soft hearted person and pitiful sympathy could possibly persuade her to end her silence. Maybe it was emotional manipulation (was it emotional manipulation if he was genuinely crying his heart out without control?) but he was willing to do anything at this point to stop the sense of dread and hopelessness stirring within him.

“I- I’m sorry. I know you need your damned privacy and time to sort out your feelings— You have every right to be upset and I don’t mean to invalidate any of your feelings but—!” D- Dammit, he could still feel the salty water leaking down his chin. “But I c- can’t. I’m at my wit’s end— I can’t stop worrying— Can’t stop being paranoid because this whole situation- Rean is reminding me so much of..!”

What was he even saying? 

He cringed at the mess that his words made up. He had studied up on persuasive argument so that he could play nobles like fiddles, but hearing himself made him want to barf. Or maybe he already wanted to barf like ten minutes ago. Whatever. The point was that he wouldn’t even be persuaded by himself with just this.

He needed to say something else. Something else so that she would understand why he was going crazy. 

“I need to…”

Yes it was selfish. She was still broken and didn’t need his sob story. But. He. He was admittedly already pretty damned selfish and he realized that he— 

.̵̢̰͈̱̩͓͑ ̴̜͚̜̈́͗̍̈́̈̃͜͝   .̸͙̉ ̶̢̎   .̷̮̕ ̷͇͔͈̫̣̂̍͗̎   .̴̸̧̧̧̜̥͈̻͓͇͚̯̣̠̯͕̞̹̦̅̒̒͆͗́͒͐̒̎̍̌͗̈̇̌̿̓̋͜͜͝͠    .̴̡̢̝͙͚̳͔̥͈̼̮͛͌̇͋̔̓̊̏̄̎̏̔͋̕͜͠   .̷̡̦͕̟͇͈̼̟̮̼͓̹̩̗͍̭̥̙͇͙̿͜͝ͅ

DAMN THEM ALL—

.̷̡̩̣̠̣̪̹̥̖̼̳̳͍̭̠̖̰̐̑́̈́̓̒   .̸̢̠͓̭̓̌͝   .̴̧̣͍̩͊͗͌̓̐̆̒̈́̚̕   .̸̛̥̖̂̅   .̷͙̮̗̟̥̓͒̈́̄́̈́̍̄̌̐̾̓̾̐̓̄̈́̇̐͋̉̈͆͘̚ͅ   .̶̜̰̝̺͍̰̘̭͌̌̔̃̕͝   .̶̺̭̦͓͕͔̌̓͌̾ͅ

—needed this. He really needed to let this out, or else he wouldn’t be able to take another step forward nor be able to help with a single thing from now on.

“...I- I have to say something about myself...”

 

---

---

 

Regnitz's story explained things. That was all Jusis was willing to let himself think as he watched his rival be awkwardly comforted by Alisa while Elliot sat by his side and rubbed his back. 

It didn't justify the commoner's aggressive behavior in the beginning of the school year at all; if he reverted back into an explosive mine, Jusis wouldn't just sit idly and take it. No, this story only explained things: The powerful anger in his voice, the shameful terror in his eyes. 

Sometimes, an explanation was all that was needed.

(After all, Regnitz's many other behaviors explained why he could be… tolerated.)

Anyway, dwelling on that wasn't Jusis' priority. Their other classmates were better sources for comfort. Jusis himself would stick to doing what he was better at, like analyzing the unexplained.

In this case, Rean's recent behavior.

The revelation back at Bareahard had explained all of Jusis’ questions about why Rean acted without the pride that was so natural to the nobility. Clearly, he still blamed himself for what happened to his biological family, so he acted like his own well-being didn’t matter while going above and beyond for others as some sort of compensation.

However, now, he was pretending he only cared about his own interests now? It didn’t line up with what they knew about him, and he doubted Rean’s prior confessions had been all false.

Due to the perceived similarities between Rean and his cousin, Regnitz assumed that the problem was caused by foul-mouthed, jealous nobles. Jusis thought that assumption was too narrow minded and blinded by emotion. Nobility had nothing to do with Alisa’s confession to Rean, the supposed trigger to this whole mess. The logic was wrong.

…They would need more information. 

After Regnitz finally calmed down, Jusis intentionally coughed loudly into his fist, bringing everyone’s attention to him. “I don’t mean to rudely ignore both your feelings, but it’s clear that not everyone’s on the same page. Regarding Rean’s bizarre behavior recently, I think it’s about time we stockpile all we know.” His authoritative gaze landed on Alisa, who was anxiously rubbing her forearm and staring down at her feet. “It would help if we knew what exactly happened during that confession.”

She tensed in discomfort as she moved away from Regnitz and placed herself near the wall.

Emma moved toward her and gently patted her shoulder, “But, you don’t have to force yourself.” 

“Like I said, it would be helpful. If not, we will make do with whatever we can compile by ourselves.”

The blonde girl clenched her teeth before sighing, visibly relaxing. Defeatedly, she admitted, “I don’t exactly view him the way Machias does, nor do I completely believe that his cousin and Rean have the same problem. But…” A bitter chuckle left her throat as she wiped a tear from her cheek. “I feel like the villain for pushing him away without trying to understand why he did what he did. I really just thought he didn’t like me anymore but, if he’s acting like a jerk to everyone, there’s clearly something else going on…”

Laura compassionately shook her head, also moving to Alisa’s side. “Rean himself once said that everyone’s feelings are genuine and that no one should downplay what they feel by comparing them to others’ feelings and experiences. Don’t belittle yourself for being human, you can’t ignore how you have your own issues as well. In fact, you’re not obligated to forgive him for what he put you through—no one here is.”

Alisa cracked a faint smile.

“However, once we’re sure Rean doesn’t intend to harm himself or anyone, we’re going to place our full efforts into poking our noses into your business and making sure you’re truly okay.” Her eyes shifted to pierce through Regnitz's. "You too."

“Basically, everyone who needs therapy,” Jusis added, pinning them with his own sharp gaze.

Regnitz and Alisa groaned.

“Not to mention,” Fie piped up, idly toying with a spoon in her hand as she leaned against the doors of the kitchen. “He pushed first. It’s only natural that you push back.” Her gaze flicked up and eyed everyone in the room with interest. “It’s pretty impressive that no one else tried to push him away either. Like really, really impressive.”

“Okay, I get it! I’m only human and apparently the rest of this class is just built differently, I get it!” The blonde covered her face with her hands but failed to hide the faint redness that touched her ears. “Geez, you people just can’t mind your own business.” Her hands pulled away and revealed eyes full of warmth.

Ironically, Jusis thought, that aspect of the class was also Rean’s fault.

“But anyway…” A heavy sigh fell from Alisa’s lips. “I don’t know what else to tell you. He rejected my confession. Then, when I asked if we could still be friends, he looked like he knew he was going to say something that would hurt me. I didn’t want him to lie, so I just left after that.”

How curious. “That was quick,” Jusis dully commented. “It’s a complete 180 from when he punched your father earlier that day.”

“Hmm…” Millium, who had been confusedly watching everything since the beginning of Regnitz’s breakdown, was tilting her head to the side, deep in thought. “Can a confession really change someone’s mind like that?”

“Nothing can be assumed. We don’t know what Rean associates with a love confession. Alisa’s confession could have brought up bad memories.”

“That… seems like a stretch though,” Elliot awkwardly scratched his cheek. “If that were the case, wouldn’t he avoid Alisa only? Why would he distance himself from anyone who had nothing to do with the confession?”

A beat of silence fell over them. 

“What if…” Gaius spoke up, rubbing his chin in forethought. “...Her confession wasn’t the trigger? What if it was something else?”

Intriguing conjecture.

“What else could it be?” Laura asked before shifting her eyes to look at Alisa. “He was 'normal' before you confessed, correct?”

“Uh… I think so? To be honest, what happened before I confessed is kind of blurry to me.”

Gaius moved toward the table in the middle of their lobby, and placed a sheet of paper down. At once, he drew a straight line across the middle of it. “Here’s the timeline.” He tapped the center of the line with the edge of his pencil and started to write ‘rejection’ in small, neat words. "This is three days ago, when Rean first considered pushing one of us away for reasons unknown.”

“Uh- Um…” Emma nervously interrupted, wearing a tight frown. “Are we going to trace back his steps? I feel like we’re crossing enough boundaries by having this meeting about him. I get that he needs help but… Isn’t this going a bit too far?”

A bitter sound escaped the back of Regnitz's throat, speaking out for the first time since he shared his story. “I’d rather cross some boundaries than do nothing even if he is fine. ” His eyes solemnly stared down at his fiddling hands, just before he moved to sit on the couch beside the table, followed by Elliot. “I don’t want to make the same mistakes again.”

Gaius nodded, then drew a dot at the first quarter of the line. “This represents when Rean punches Professor Lughman out of anger for Alisa. It’s unusual for him, but this is the last time we see him act like he cares.” With two fingers, he tapped at the two points he created and said, “The trigger could’ve been at any time between these two events.”

Fie raised an eyebrow. “Didn’t he spend that entire time just riding his horse back to the settlement with you guys?”

“Rean stayed behind because his horse wasn't being cooperative.” Jusis closed his eyes, briefly going through the events of his mind one more time. “Professor Lughman could have possibly intercepted him before he left.”

“Oh! Maybe Professor Lughman yelled at Rean for punching him!” came Millium's innocent prediction. 

Regnitz's fist pounded lightly against the table, fingers digging into his palm angrily. “Any chance that this Lughman guy is secretly a dirty noble? I think that would explain everything.”

Alisa rolled her eyes. “No, he isn’t. And he didn’t seem to care about Rean for punching him anyway. I don’t see why he would directly seek Rean out.”

At once, a high pitched gasp rang from beside her, causing everyone to look at Emma who was hiding her mouth with her hand.

“Wait,” she muttered, eyes widening as a memory struck her. She turned to Alisa with a worried look. “Remember when we first met Professor Lughman in the highlands? He said he was acquainted with Rean before he started calling himself Professor Lughman, so they must’ve met way before Class VII had their first field study.”

Everyone leaned forward, minds whirling and trying to figure out what this new piece of information could entail. Perhaps there was more reason behind Rean’s punch than they initially thought, too. 

“You’re right…” Alisa breathlessly murmured before her teeth clenched into a snarl. “Wait, are you trying to tell me that my not-father is the reason why Rean’s acting like this?!”

“It’s a possibility,” the placating tone of Gaius’ voice calmed her down. “We won’t know for sure without asking either one of them, and I doubt we’ll be successful on either of those fronts. Is there anything else anyone can think might've happened?"

Millium raised her hand and piped up, "I dunno if this is relevant, but the last time he was actually acting like himself was the night before, when he looked genuinely relieved that we made it back from the cave-in! The morning after, he was already closing up, but probably not intentionally! So I guess something happened in the middle of night too!"

What.

Jusis, Emma and Alisa just stared at her, dumbfounded.

"I didn't notice anything different at all…" Emma sweat-dropped as Alisa nodded in agreement with her. Jusis was only suspicious.

"Well, aren’t you awfully observant all of a sudden?"

Full of pride, Millium laughed. "What are you talking about! I'm always super observant!"

Fie snorted. "Like how you noticed Emma’s cat stole one of your cookies yesterday?"

"Huh? Emma has a cat?"

“Exactly.”

Jusis kept his serious gaze trained on the youngest member of the class, undeterred by how she dodged his question. Millium could be sharp when she knew what to look for. The fact that she was apparently keeping a close eye on Rean was a surprise, especially since it was obvious she didn’t give that same level of attention to every member of Class VII. 

And… Now that he thought about it…

Millium hadn’t spoken up much through their conversation today. She usually set off an avalanche of questions fitting for the endless curiosity of a child, often about feelings. With the topic at hand, they’ve touched upon numerous complex emotions, so he expected the girl to at least ask about self-loathing, the theme of Regnitz’s story. He expected this to be an emotion she’d have the most trouble grasping. 

Yet she didn’t appear the least bit surprised. That was extremely suspicious.

…Ugh.

He had to pinch the bridge of his nose to fight the onset of a headache. This was such a deja vu moment, with all the unusual behavior going on. It was exactly like playing another one of Phantom Thief B’s games, especially with how Rean ended up being the main topic.

Seriously, how much mystery could one person hold?

"Alright then, we’ll keep the trigger for Rean’s mysterious new behavior as a question mark between our three options,” Gaius concluded.

That was one way of saying that they were no closer to an answer than before.

His pencil then clicked at the right half of the paper. “Now then, Alisa, can you tell us what happened when you were with Rean during the cave-in?”

She immediately scowled, clearly not having happy memories of that time. “I got a bit emotional until he started acting all cold. He said he only caught my fall because I didn't look like I could even save myself. Then, when we explored the tunnels to find an exit, he started fighting so aggressively to make sure that I couldn't help.” She frustratedly sighed, “He made me feel weak and useless.”

Jusis only scoffed, remembering the time when he suspected Rean’s extreme habit of helping everyone for everything appeared arrogant, as if he thought everyone else was unable to take care of themselves. It seemed like Rean was taking that idea to heart now.

For his unsympathetic reaction, everyone warily stared at him. Jusis only crossed his arms against his chest, sending them all a flat look. “Are you complaining that he caught your fall and killed all the monsters so you wouldn’t get hurt or have to exert yourself? Sounds like classic Rean behavior, just with a different attitude.”

Alisa blanched. “What..?” Eventually his words clicked into her mind, causing her to instantly groan and drop her head to her arms. “Ugh… How did I not notice that..?”

“Not everyone would, and not many would appreciate being on the receiving end of such a frigid attitude. Don't beat yourself up over it,” Gaius quickly reassured her before facing Jusis with an innocent smirk. “But, it’s no surprise that Jusis of all people would be able to see the truth of one’s actions behind cold words.”

“Silence, you,” Jusis huffed, ignoring how everyone was beginning to smile deviously at him. “I still haven’t forgiven you for sicking Millium on me during that train ride.” His glare shifted to Elliot, who nervously gulped. “You too, for doing the same thing. And Rean. I hate all three of you.”

Regnitz rolled his eyes. “You hate everyone.”

“Tsundere—” Fie coughed against her elbow.

Jusis ignored them. For there was a bigger threat sitting right next to him.

“Aw, you don’t mean that!” Millium grinned at him before clinging to his side with a hug tight enough to deplete him of oxygen. “Hug time!”

Ugh. Tolerating these fools was a mistake.

“You brought this upon yourself,” Laura chuckled, before turning her attention back to Alisa. “I heard the rest of Group A found both you and Rean unconscious in those tunnels. Can you explain how that happened?”

“Urk…” Alisa hesitantly peeked through her fingers. “We encountered G and S and got into a fight. In the middle of it, I finally convinced myself to link up with him and then—” Her eyes suddenly widened as a violent shiver visibly crawled up her skin. Looking distraught, she placed a hand on her head and muttered, “Without any warning, I felt like I was trapped in an iced-over lake. I was so cold and I couldn’t breathe… I could barely move while my vision was fading fast. After Rean severed the link, I just… fainted. And when I woke up, I felt so nauseous, which was why I missed the next day of school.”

“Wait,” Elliot spoke up, also looking oddly anxious. “I experienced the same thing when I linked up with Rean during that duel. However, it wasn’t for very long and I only felt a little nauseous afterwards… Maybe because we were only linked for a short time?”

Jusis still remembered when Regnitz was still intolerable, and the most he felt from their unstable link was heated waves of frustration and anger. Sure, there was a moment of paralysis when the link shattered, but he never felt any lasting effects from a severed link. Nothing like what they just explained.

Alisa’s lips pulled into a thoughtful frown. “So it wasn’t just a me thing? Linking up with Rean just has that effect now?” She shook her head in befuddlement. “That doesn’t even make sense. He can't just spontaneously alter the functions of the ARCUS like that!"

Laura cleared her throat, before speaking her own mind. "Perhaps I should be the last one to speak about this because of my incompetence around this sort of thing, but maybe the ARCUS didn’t change at all. Everyone is aware that the ARCUS link picks up on emotions, correct? Well, before now, what was the last emotion any of you picked up from Rean through the ARCUS?”

Nothing.

That answer was shared when no one could say a thing.

“He’s always been holding back. I can tell because I sparred with him once before. In secret,” she added, before anyone could ask how and when this happened. “I quickly figured out that he was holding back in that fight. I also learned that he has been holding back every time the class fights together on our field studies and during the schoolhouse investigations.”

Emma raised her brows in surprise. “Wait, are you saying that he’s even stronger than he already is?”

“I do not know if what he’s holding back is raw strength, some secret skill, or something else entirely. But I would surmise that it would make him fiercer in battle.” Laura leaned back. “I simply think it’s curious that he would hold back even against monsters.”

Jusis pondered about that as well. What could anyone gain from withholding power? He had heard stories from his classmates who fought with Rean in battles where they nearly lost. Would it not have been useful to use whatever it was that he was hiding?

“And that brings me back to my original point,” Laura sighed sadly. “If he holds back in fights, then I don’t think it’s beyond reason to surmise that he holds back his emotions with the ARCUS link. Perhaps what Alisa and Elliot experienced was simply a glimpse into his actual feelings.”

Said two classmates paled.

“Th-that?” Alisa winced, fingers twitching against the table. “What we felt might've been a glimpse of his feelings? How can anyone even function in life like that?"

"Yeah…" Elliot muttered, face all scrunched up from the memory. “That’s not… healthy.”

Fie leaned back in her chair, staring up at the ceiling while her arms lazily hung by her sides. “Clearly, he’s not functioning or healthy, based on what we see of him in the aftermath. It might even be related to why he shatters the link in the first place. It’s funny,” she humorlessly said, mouth still forming a flat line. “He’s holding back a lot, but he’s also pushing himself a lot.”

“And that's the big question for this whole situation, isn't it?” Emma murmured in concern. “Why?”

Jusis' patience was wearing thin. “We’ve been talking about this for 20 minutes and have not gotten any closer to an answer.”

“Not necessarily,” Gaius said, jotting down a few last notes about what they just talked about. “First, let's take a step back. So far, we've been looking at what changed about him. Let's look at what stayed the same."

"Huh?" Millium asked, still not tired of clinging onto Jusis’ arm apparently. "What's so special about the not-different stuff?"

Emma was the one who answered just as a look of epiphany dawned on her. "It will help us understand what he's doing."

Jusis flicked his wrist in dismissal of the idea. "We already know what he's doing: Avoiding all of us."

"No- I mean yes, but no. What I’m trying to say is that we can figure out what he’s accomplishing with these actions."

Regnitz frowned, but nodded in agreement. "When… I talked to him earlier, he did say that we were in his way. Now, he didn’t specify what his way was, just that we could be an obstacle to it and was the reason why he’s distancing himself. Also—" His teeth grit, regaining some of his old anger. “He already decided to temporarily room at the noble dorms, I think he left before you guys arrived.”

Almost everyone’s eyes widened. With their voices rising in protest of the ridiculous nature of that decision, Laura had to cough loudly to calm them down. As for Jusis, he immediately thought of a plan to counter Rean’s decision.

Returning back to the conversation, Elliot quietly murmured, “If I remember correctly, he said that his reason for going to Thors was to find himself .”

“Kinda hard to believe, considering how much attention he gives to other people instead of himself,” Fie shrugged. 

Jusis snorted in agreement. "Not to mention, I don't see how we are suddenly obstacles to his journey of self discovery. How is dealing with us possibly worse than dealing with a sizable group of jealous nobles?"

"Well…" Elliot glanced down at his hands, eyes distantly searching for a memory. "I think… No, I don't believe he was lying when he said he was looking for himself. But now I don't think he was telling the complete truth either… Did anyone get a clue about some other reason for him being here?"

Apparently no, judging by the silence that descended once again in their dorm. .

Regnitz groaned in frustration, throwing his head back against the head of the couch, glaring upwards as if he had a personal vendetta against the ceiling. "This is impossible, there's too much we don't know about Rean, so we can't just find the answers through sheer thinking."

"Maybe you're right that there's nothing more we can discover by ourselves…" Alisa hummed in agreement, though her head perked up with a new idea. "But we could contact his sister and parents to see what they know! Anyone know how we can contact them?"

Jusis internally scoffed, wondering how no one thought about contacting his family earlier. Though he had his doubts; with how secretive Rean was, what were the chances his adoptive family knew much else? 

"Ooh! I can dig up his address! And then I can fly there with Lammy!"

Emma sweat-dropped. "Let's not go to such extremes yet."

"Albarea." Jusis' eyes drifted away from the disappointed child and toward his rival. "Your brother is acquainted with the Schwarzers, right? You could possibly contact him to get us in touch with them."

"Rufus is most likely too busy," Jusis sighed. "But I'll see what I can do." Though, thinking about his brother now, he remembered that he also wanted to talk to him about his connection with S.

"Alright." Gaius spoke while scribbling a few more notes. "Is there anything else anyone wants to add?"

Regnitz unsubtly looked around, looking if anyway was going to add anything. When no one opened their mouths, he spoke his mind, "It's not something to add, but what are we going to do about Rean moving into the noble dorms? I don't like the idea of him dealing with them by himself."

What a silly question. Nonchalantly waving his hand as if to push the concern away, Jusis said, "Simple, I'm moving out with him."

Everyone turned and stared at him, eyes completely bugged out. This reaction was ridiculous, considering this was the next logical course of option.

"In that case, I suppose I'll temporarily move out too." Thank Aidios for Laura and her ability to quickly get on the same page as him. "There's less likely to be any kind of incident with both of us around."

"Ooh!" Millium whined, squeezing his arm tighter and giving him a pouty look. "Can I join too?"

Jusis shut her down quickly. "Nobles only."

"Awwwwww!"

"Wow," Elliot nervously chuckled. "Rean, Jusis, and Laura aren't going to stay here for a while? This dorm is going to feel really empty soon, but at least you guys won't have to worry about the ghost."

"Oh believe me, I'd rather eat dinner with that ghost than spend any more seconds around the likes of Hyarms and Henzel." But, for Rean's sake…

Ugh, the things he did for 'friendship.'

"Well, then…" Laura stood up from her seat, looking determined. "I will tell Instructor Sara about our decisions. Jusis, I assume you will speak to your brother about talking to the Schwarzers?"

"Yes, I'll—"

The entrance door to their dormitory opened without warning; to their surprise, none other than Angelica Rogner and Towa Herschel walked in. The violet-haired girl grinned at them as she announced, "Good early evening, our little chickadees! We're here to check up on you, like the brilliant seniors that we are!"

Alisa grumbled, "I hope you're not talking about the perverted kind of check up."

"I mean, if you want—"

Towa nudged her companion's side with her elbow, wearing a full-blown pout. She then sighed and apologetically bowed to the class. "Sorry! We're here because we heard those awful rumors about you. We were worried about how you were affected."

"And," Angelica added before anyone could show gratitude and reassurance for their concern. "Because I wanna steal someone for a moment~"

"Angie..!"

"Oh, don't worry so much, Towa! I'm not gonna bother one of the fair maidens tonight!" she chuckled as her sharp eyes scanned the class and eventually landed on Jusis. "I'm just gonna borrow Pretty Boy over there for a moment."

What.

Regnitz didn't bother to hide a laugh, completely more relaxed than earlier. Meanwhile, Jusis only died inside more. What in the world..?

"I have no desire to get involved in any of your promiscuous schemes, Rogner," he huffed, crossing his arms and leaning away as she dauntlessly walked a couple steps closer to him. "I'm serious."

"Oh, I'm serious, too," she winked at him and placed a hand on her hip. "I heard that our beloved Patastrophe is currently relaxing at the noble saloon in the Student Union Building. I was thinking about intimidating him into spilling the beans about the rumors going on, and I was wondering if you wanted to join and abuse our privileges of being members of the Four Great Houses~"

Oh.  

Indeed, that caught his interest.

"You want me to help you torment Hyarms?" He couldn't hide the slight, amused smirk that grew on his lips. "How could I ever decline?"

"That sounds like fun!" Millium turned to Fie. "We should get popcorn!"

"Roger."

"Wait!" Towa called out loudly, stopping Fie from dashing to the orbal microwave. "I made Angie promise me to not go overboard, so it won't be as interesting as you think!" Angelica, on the other hand, had her eyes pointed at the ceiling and was silently whistling in innocence. "So, while they're dealing with that, I want the rest of you to tell me everything."

"Well, that's our cue to go!" Angelica turned around and opened the doors. Looking back at Jusis, she smirked, "Shall we?"

---

“C- Celestin, h- heeeeelp me!”

“Haha, worried that your friends are dehydrated, Master Patrick? Your kindness and consideration never fails to touch my heart. I shall go and prepare some tea for you and your friends now.”

“CELESTIN!”

The door closed behind Hyarms’ butler, leaving Jusis, Angelica, and Hyarms all alone. 

Jusis huffed, glaring down at the blonde teen who was shrinking against his lounge chair. “Oh please, no need to pretend you’re being cornered by a couple of wolves.” 

“Yeah!” Angelica barked with a toothy grin as she raised her foot on one of the chair’s arms and crouched forward, deviously staring down at the terrified noble. “We just want to have a nice, friendly chat~”

“Do you both need a mirror?!” Hyarms hissed incredulously with wide, fearful eyes. “You’re both searing me alive with your eyes!” 

Sigh. 

Jusis did not have the patience for this. Letting out another huff, he backed off, walking a short distance to the wall behind him to lean against. “Just tell us what you know about all the rumors circulating about my class, and then we’ll leave you alone.”

“I don’t know what you’re talking about!”

Angelica shook her head in disappointment. “Patrick, if you don’t tell us what we want to know, then I’ll tell everyone about that time when you dressed—”

Hyarms immediately went red in the face as he launched himself forward and clasped a hand over her mouth, yelling, “Silence! Albarea doesn’t need to know that!”

No, this sounded exactly like something he should know. “Oh? Know about what?”

With little effort, Angelica escaped from Hyarms’ grasp and sing-songed, “Fun story: Patrick and I met when we were children a couple of times. There was one time when I tricked him into—”

“ROGNER, STOP! I’LL SAY EVERYTHING YOU WANT TO KNOW!” Hyarms all but screeched, completely out of breath as his cheeks were still red with embarrassment (or trauma, in this case). He needed a couple minutes to himself to regain his breaths and his noble-like composure. “A- Ahem, now then… What exactly do you want to know?”

“Why are you and your friends spreading lies about my class?” The only rumor he was comfortable with was the one about Regnitz, mostly because it was 90% accurate. “Have you fallen so far from grace that you can’t accept the outcome of the duel?”

Hyarms’ face scrunched up in disgust, looking utterly offended. “I may have disdain for your class, but I wouldn’t stoop low enough to spread any rumors!” His voice then grew less powerful and he could no longer keep eye-contact with his contemporaries. “The others, however, may be less willing to accept that Class VII is… competent.”

Jusis scoffed. “So, what? They simply can’t accept the reality that not all non-nobles are below them, and so they’re trying to belittle my class as much as possible? How pathetic.”

“Damn, this ended up being a lackluster revelation,” Angelica sighed, stepping back from Hyarms, giving him more space to feel comfortable. “And here I was thinking we could uncover some kind of conspiracy.”

“E- erm,” Hyarms stuttered, looking bewilderedly between the two. “Are you two not aware..?”

Was Hyarms seriously implying that there was a conspiracy going on?  “Aware of what?”

With the space they had given him, Hyarms shakily rose from his seat and coughed, "W-well, if you're not aware by now, then I suppose it is not important to tell you." He hastily moved to the door with the obvious intention to escape. 

Jusis only rolled his eyes at the other's behavior. He wasn't satisfied with Hyarms' answers and was definitely not going to allow him to leave like this. The only reason he didn’t make any move was because the door opened before Hyarms’ reached it.

“I have returned with the tea, Master Patrick. Shall I prepare a table for you three?”

Celestin was such an impeccable butler.  

“I insist,” Jusis answered while Hyarms was failing to stutter out a refusal.

At once, they all settled at a table, Hyarms gripping the arms of his chair for dear life and Angelica inappropriately resting her legs against the edge of the table. Taking a long sip of his tea, Jusis waited for their dear host to continue off where they left off. 

“Seriously, you’re both children of the Four Great Houses, yet you don’t know anything about what’s been circulating around in our circles?!” 

Angelica wore a sheepish, yet not actually guilty smile. “Well, I’m sure it’s pretty obvious I’ve been on a rebellious streak, so my old man doesn’t tell me anything. Not like I care.”

As for Jusis, his father never told him anything. If he ever wanted to know anything, he would usually have to dig around for the information by himself.

Still. “I’m not going to explain myself to you.”

“You’re both unbelievable..!” Hyarms exclaimed, looking like he wanted to tear his hair out. All of a sudden, however, an arrogant look of epiphany seemed to hit him as he froze in place for a second. Slowly, his frustrated scowl turned into a proud smirk. “I- I suppose this is a prime opportunity to share my valuable knowledge and prove to you that I’m not to be taken lightly!”

“Says the guy who was literally about to bolt outta here a couple minutes ago,” Angelica whistled as she signaled Celestin for her tea to be refilled. 

“A- Ahem! Anyway! You are aware of the current rising political conflict between the noble faction in the reformist faction, correct?”

“That’s obvious. Just get to the point, Hyarms.”

Said teen sputtered at Jusis’ lack of care for context, only to snap from losing his patience with them. “Fine! There’s talk of a civil war that might start soon! That's my point!”

Jusis and Angelica's eyes widened at him. War?

True, when he thought about how his father was spending more resources on the provincial army as well as shifting funds to untraceable donors, it was fairly obvious that he was preparing for something. But, to think he would actually agree to resort to a full-blown war because he didn’t agree with the Reformist Faction..?

“I don’t know when it will happen, or how it will spark,” Hyarms solemnly continued. “But it will happen soon. Many of the nobles at our school are secretly aware of this from their own families, hence why there has been more aggression toward the lower class recently.”

To the side, Celestine politely bowed his head to them. "My apologies for interrupting, but may I add something to your conversation?"

"Of course," Angelica casually waved at him in encouragement.

Raising his head up, he nodded. "It is to my understanding that some nobles see your class as an antithesis of the class hierarchy. Some are afraid your class represents a future where they are no longer relevant, causing a sort of backlash against Class VII."

Seriously? Jusis was unimpressed. To be fearful of a class full of struggling teenagers because of some delusion? He may not think commoner's are trash like other nobles, but he also wasn't going to throw away his name and title because of this class.

Ridiculous.

“I assume that’s why the rumors about my classmates started," he sighed. There were also many follow-up questions he wanted to ask about the possible incoming war. However, Jusis was not here to talk about that, and he had a more reliable source to ask for that information (if Rufus was willing to divulge anything). Instead, he shifted the conversation back to his other pressing concern. "Though, I have to ask, is that also the reason why you forced Rean to duel with you?”

The idiot sputtered and choked on his tea. “No..!” Red shame began to tint his cheeks, but he kept his mouth shut from saying anything else.

"Then what is it?"

"As if I'll ans—"

Angelica hummed. “Ohhh, I get it~ Our little Patastrophe was just jealous!”

Choking noises could be heard from said blonde.

“Indeed,” Celestin innocently nodded, oblivious to his master’s distress. “He’s well aware of Class VII’s recent achievements, and he wanted to celebrate that by showing off his strength and proving that your mixed class was equal to a noble class.”

Jusis was no expert, but that sounded like a terrible way to try making friends.

“I didn’t—”

“Aw, why didn’t you say so, Patastrophe!” Without warning, Angelica swung her legs down to the floor and scooted her chair closer to Hyarms, only to capture him into a headlock and noogie. “Sure, you’re not my type, but I wouldn’t mind spending some quality bonding time like the old times!”

“THERE’S A REASON WHY I’VE BEEN AVOIDING YOU LIKE THE PLAGUE!”

Jusis pretended the utter buffoonery occurring right in front of him wasn’t happening as he focused on finishing his tea. When he finished, he let out a long, warranted sigh, causing Angelica to laugh and spare Hyarms from any further humiliation.

"Does Pretty Boy want some big sisterly affection too?"

Hyarms choked on his tea again. His butler aided him by soothingly rubbing his back. Jusis simply shielded his lips with his teacup, not at all amused.

"Moving on…" He had no patience for her, especially when she ridiculously wiggled her eyebrows at him. “Setting aside your jealousy or whatever other melodramatic feelings you have, explain your partner’s intentions during the duel. While he clearly hates non-nobles, it was clear that this duel was more than proving whatever idiotic sense of superiority you all have.”

"I don't want my superiority complex to be called out by you of all people!"

Unfazed by the obvious attempt to dodge the topic, he flatly stated, "Answer the question."

Hyarms lamely sighed, deflating a bit in his seat. “I wasn’t aware of this until I talked to Henzel about yesterday, but apparently Schwarzer has quite a bad reputation in some circles.”

Rean and bad reputation? This was the first Jusis ever heard of it as well. However, his lack of access to this sort of information was now no longer a surprise, considering he hadn’t even known about a potential war from his family so far. 

Narrowing her eyes, Angelica asked, “Do you mean the typical stuff like how he wasn’t born a noble?”

“No, I mean…” There was clear hesitation in his voice, creating a sense of suspense that made the other two lean forward in interest. “They say he’s possessed by a demon.”

Jusis immediately groaned in disappointment. “Seriously? Another ridiculous conspiracy theory is the basis for the trouble that’s happening? Does anyone in this school have any common sense?”

“Damn,” whistled Angelica as she leaned back in her chair. “I mean, I get their intent: They’re trying to eliminate Rean’s legitimacy as an heir to the Schwarzer barony while trying to get someone to marry his little sister so they can control the barony. Happens all the time. But this demon thing? While it’s not unheard of, that’s kinda stretching it— Oh.”

Jusis narrowed his eyes at her, who looked like an epiphany had just dawned on her. “Oh?”

“Hmm…” Her face was all scrunched up, deep in thought. “I do remember hearing gossip some years ago about some noble’s kid being catatonic for a couple years. Everyone thought he was possessed or something, especially when he woke up with a completely different attitude.” She then sighed and shook her head. “Don’t quote me on that ‘cause I didn’t care about noble gossip way back then either.”

Hyarms cringed away. “That sounds terrifying..! That was Schwarzer?”

“Dunno, don’t remember. The demon talk just reminded me of it, but it could just be someone else.”

Jusis huffed. That was unreliable information, so he wasn’t going to take it seriously. Even if there was some truth to it, he didn’t exactly see how the details of it were relevant now. And, if it was true, he’d rather hear it directly from Rean’s mouth. 

(Of course, that wasn’t to say that he wasn’t a little curious.)

RING

Everyone curiously glanced at Jusis, whose ARCUS had started to ring. Heaving out another sigh, he stood up from the table and set his empty cup of tea down to the table. “Excuse me,” he said before he left the room.

Closing the door gently behind him, his eyes widened when he saw the caller ID. Of course, he had been intending to have a conversation with this person in the near future, but to think they would call first. Instinctively straightening his back, he answered the call.

"Rufus? What do you want?”

A dry chuckle sounded through his ARCUS.

"Hm? What's with that melodramatic greeting? What happened to the little brother who used to cry into my arms whenever I returned home from business?"

Jusis groaned, unable to pretend to be unfazed by his brother's teasing words.

"Just get to the point of why you're calling me."

"Ah, can't I call you just to see how you're doing? I would be quite an awful older brother to not check up on you from time to time."

So, Rufus called him on a whim. The timing couldn't have been any more perfect.

He had to ask him for contact with the Schwarzers. The fact that Rufus knew Rean for a while now also made Jusis want to ask if Rean had acted differently before school started, for reference to see if his behavior now was unusual. There were also questions about what Rufus knew about the war Hyarms was talking about, as well as if he was aware of S’ status as a terrori—

His mind halted for a moment. With the noble faction supposedly wanting to go to war with the reformist faction, was it a coincidence that terrorist activity started up recently? Could the two be connected?

No. Priorities first. Jusis couldn’t get distracted from the more pressing concerns at the moment.

(Plus, he doubted his brother would stoop so low as to work with terrorists, even if he agreed with the war.)

"Okay then. I have a few questions for you…”

Where to begin...

Notes:

These word counts are going to kill me lmao. I tried breaking down and combining scenes as much as possible, but I still ended up with this. So.. I'm just gonna accept that the chapters for this arc are gonna be a lot longer than usual and hope you guys know how to pace yourselves lol.

Anway, apparently in one of Machias’ flashbacks, there’s a picture of him and his dad playing chess. Machias looks happy while his dad looks cornered. Elsa is there in front of their table, holding out a tray of tea. Those were some interesting details so that’s where the idea at the beginning came from.

Due to how I wanted the juxtaposition of Machias’ “I’m trying to get answers but the universe is against me” and Jusis’ “I just have to wait and answers will just fall into my lap,” I deliberately kicked Laura’s POV to the next chapter because, um… something different happens there (and cause word count lol).

—-

To be continued in “Chapter 20 - Scattered and Carved.”
In which Fie isn’t a stranger to people scattering, and Laura needs to carve out a name tag for herself.

Thanks for getting through this massive wall of text, I'd appreciate a comment and take care~

Chapter 20: Scattered and Carved

Notes:

Woo, an update at last. Honestly, I’ve been busy with school and existential crises, so I haven’t had much chance to touch fanfiction. And I really should not have written this and uploaded this now because exams are literally next week, but… I didn’t want you guys to wait too long, especially in the middle of this arc lol.

(That being said, I'mma go and... actually do responsible student stuff now while you deal with whatever happens in this mess of a chapter XD)

Anyway, here’s May’s chapter~

“Look kid, I know you don’t trust me. I know I don’t even trust me. Everyone knows to not trust a big, scary jaeger boss with a young girl like you,” casually said the burly man crouching down in front of her, arms resting on his knees in an open posture to lessen his intimidation. “As you can tell, there isn’t much trust for me in this relationship right here.”

“Mn,” she grunted, rolling to her other side to face away from the man. She didn’t care about whatever this man was saying, she just wanted more sleep. 

A long sigh suddenly fell out of the man’s throat before she could sense him walking around her. Opening one eye, she saw the man in her direct line of sight again, in the same non-threatening posture.

“Kid, you really shouldn’t show your back to people you don’t trust.”

That statement only prompted a careless yawn, an eye roll, and a roll of her body back to her original position. 

The man sighed again, stepping around her to also return to his original position. Her eyes snapped closed so that she wouldn’t have to look at him. “Okay kid, you’ve made your point. Clearly, you don’t give a crap about why the scary jaeger boss is trying to talk to you.”

“Duh,” she stubbornly stuck her tongue out in disrespect. “You’re bothering me, old man. Go away.”

Once again, she rolled over to her other side.

“You little…” The man sounded more amused than frustrated. This time, he stayed in his place. Clothes slightly rustled before a small clink echoed through the cave. At once, the smell of tobacco and smoke filled the air.

Slightly annoyed, her eyelids lifted a little as she turned around to look back at him. “You’re not doing a good job at earning my trust.”

“Good, or else the first thing I'd teach you is to not trust strangers.”

Her eyebrows furrowed slightly, silently asking him why he was even here. He responded with a long exhale, full of smoke.

“Well even if you don’t care or trust me, I want to do something for you.”

Lime green eyes narrowed at the man who reached his hand out to her. A confident smirk was stretched across his face. 

“So first off, how about I get you a drink?”

Drink? As in that fancy stuff that made people stupid and easier for Fie to steal from them? She may be young, but she knew enough about it to stay away from that stuff like her life depended on it. 

In other words, she was unimpressed with this man, and resorted to flatly staring at him. 

“I’m literally six years old.”

---

“...Sorry.”

After finally accepting to get a drink (which turned out to be a glass of milk, of all things), Fie somehow ended up joining Zephyr, learning how to be a badass with gunblades, and seeing the rest of these idiots in this group as family. Who knew beating up armed merchants, bandits, and assassins would make a great bonding experience? Surviving various members’ terrible cooking (seriously, Xeno, the former assassin, somehow could not cook well even if his life depended on it) also helped cement deep ties with the group.

And somewhere along the way, Fie learned how to make adult drinks, despite not being able to have even a sip.

Life was strange. Really strange. But, she wouldn’t have it any other way. 

Anyway, that led to her current predicament. During their last battle, one of Fie’s bullets somehow strayed off course and ended up… grazing Boss’s cheek. Suddenly, an unfamiliar emotion surfaced within her:

Guilt. She didn’t like how she hurt Boss, even if it was an accident.

“It’s basically a cat scratch,” he chuckled, reaching down to ruffle her hair. “The boys all agree that it makes me more manly anyway.”

Alright. She had to admit, it kinda did look cool.

“Boss.”

They turned toward Leo, who had approached them from the side. At once, he pointed toward a man in the distance. His head was full of silver hair and his eyes gleamed red. Despite being surrounded by defensive and suspicious jaegers, the man appeared unbothered at all, only impatient.

“You know him? He’s been asking to talk with you.”

Under his breath, Boss lowly muttered, “Alberich.”

It was a somewhat familiar name. Something related to weapons or something.

“Oh, he’s the weapons dealer?” Leo asked.

Boss wordlessly nodded and stood up, giving Fie one last pat on the head. Fie just took this as a cue to take a nap, hopefully sleeping this feeling of guilt away.

 

---

---

---

 

Slowly, her eyelids fluttered open, only for her to stare at the sheets of her bed. At once, she closed her eyes again as she flipped herself over the bed, only to land deftly on her feet. 

Five days have passed since the whole class discussion and since Rean, Jusis, and Laura officially moved into the noble dorms. Nothing much had changed. Rean was still ignoring everyone to the best of his ability and students in this school were still passive-aggressively bothering certain members of Class VII because of the rumors. As for Jusis’ conversation with his brother, Rufus apparently stated that he would “speak to Rean’s father about it” and they hadn’t gotten any updates on that front yet. 

Basically, they still couldn’t do much; no progress happened on any front. Even Fie, who loved doing nothing, disliked not having any leads and not doing anything about the situation. 

That would change now.

Now standing, she felt the relief of stretching her back as her mind furiously ran through her fresh dream. Was the content just a coincidence? Or were her instincts onto something?

This Lughman guy… She had seen him before. The guy had different colored eyes and hair but he had the same face structure. Unless Alisa missed the detail that her father had a twin, Fie was sure that Professor Lughman and the guy from her dream were one and the same. Though, that only begged the question of why Alisa's once dead father was going around under another name and selling weapons to jaegers.

What was the name again? Alberich? This man was the one who supplied her corp with S-weapons, if she remembered correctly. This man was also present and having a discussion with Boss just a few days before Boss's deathmatch with Baldur.

Hm… 

With a yawn, she slipped her uniform on and quietly stalked her way out of her room. Keeping her door slightly open, she noticed that the natural light from the windows were still dim, meaning that she must've woken up early. Again.

It was kinda a hassle that she hadn't been able to get as much sleep as before, but she somehow felt more awake now than usual. She just hadn't been having that constant feeling of tiredness recently. Even before the most recent field study, she started to prefer messing with her classmates instead of daydreaming about the past with her naps.

She didn't know what that could possibly mean, but she sure wasn't going to waste her not-sleep time doing something boring.

Upon reaching the stairs, she heard another door open. Cracking her neck slightly, she saw Alisa walk out of her room.

"Fie?" She stopped and stared at the petite girl in confusion. "You're up early."

"Couldn't sleep," Fie shrugged while continuing to walk down the stairs. Alisa caught up and adjusted her fast pace to the other's lazy stroll.

"Going out for a walk then? We have a couple of hours before class, so Sharon hasn't made any breakfast yet."

"Nah." When they reached the second floor, Fie turned right into the hall instead of walking the next flight down. To answer Alisa's silent question, she gestured to the door on the right. "Investigation."

Slight tension then settled over Alisa's shoulders since she was still somewhat awkward around the topic.

"So, you're… breaking into his room?"

"Ja, he basically moved out anyway. If he's smart, he wouldn't have left any incriminating evidence behind."

Alisa sweat-dropped. "What are you hoping to find?"

Probably something related to Alberich or Professor Lughman or whatever he called himself. She doubted Rean would leave something like that around, but it didn't hurt to check. However, just because she wanted to get a rise out of her companion, Fie said, "Porn."

Already, Alisa's head was steaming, her face all red and scrunched up in embarrassment. Man, if only Laura was here so she could get two prude tomatoes steaming up on the boys' floor.

"Wh- wha—?"

"Just kidding," Fie chuckled as she pushed the door open. Inside was a fairly plain room; there was nothing weird here at first glance. When she walked in, she noticed that Alisa just stayed beside the door frame. "You not looking?"

"As if!" Alisa sheepishly waved her off. "I'll just wait for you."

"Huh. Is everyone in this class bad at feelings?"

More red blossomed on the blonde's face, but she decided to say nothing in response.

Fie took that as her cue to start scanning through the room. Clothes, school supplies, and other necessities were obviously missing. Elliot also once mentioned that Rean had an Eastern poster on his wall, but that didn't seem to be here at the moment.

As for the personal items still here, Fie glanced at the rock and holy water that Millium undoubtedly planted here a few days ago. There was still the crappy origami horse Fie had made for Rean that was sitting on the bookshelf, as well as the others that the class had made for him everytime he got bedridden. There was also the fishing rod he sometimes used that was laying beside his bookshelf. 

The most interesting thing still here, however, was the family portrait. In the picture was Rean, as well as who she assumed to be his adoptive parents and sister. Such an item would seem like it was important enough to bring along—Fie didn't consider herself to be a sentimental dork, but she would kill to have one picture of Boss and the rest of the corp—but apparently Rean didn't bring it with him.

That could mean two things. One: Rean was going to return. 

Doubtful. 

She was more willing to bet that his decision to leave behind this picture was a symbol of him… leaving his own family behind.

…

Machias was right. This whole situation hit far too close to home, though for different reasons in her case. 

Oh well. The best Fie could do now was follow her hunch, and right now her hunch told her to look more into the Alberich-Lughman guy. Chances were low that she would find something related to him, but whatever. At least she could say she tried. 

"Alisa," she called out, looking at the door where her classmate was awkwardly peeking through. "Ever heard of Alberich?"

The question was random and based on a dream. She didn’t expect to get a useful answer.

Said girl's eyebrows pinched immediately. "That sounds familiar, where did I— Oh!" Despite sounding like she remembered, she only looked more confused. "Yeah, um… I'm pretty sure Rean called my not-father something like that…"

Wow. Unexpected.

"How do you know that name? Have you… met him before when he went by that name?"

Judging by how Alisa had shown conflicting feelings about the Reinford company and their involvement in making weapons before, Fie decided not to tell her that her "not-father" was involved in making special weapons for jaegers and was possibly involved in a jaeger leader death brawl. She didn't want to stress her out more. Especially since, after Machias' meltdown yesterday, it was clear that some people were more stressed than others and Fie really didn't want to step on a landmine again.

(When her bomb set off Rean's panic attack in Bareahard, she didn’t like it. She really didn’t want to accidentally hurt any of them again.)

"Heard about him around," Fie shrugged, trying to play it off as nothing special. 

Alisa didn't budge on the deflection; she only grew more concerned. "Around? Like, when you were a jaeger?"

Oh whoops, she didn't think that far. Well, it would be pretty hard to hide this cat in the bag so she just nodded, watching her friend's eyes widen in horror.

"He's been… dealing with jaegers?! What kind of deals?! "

Walking around the room and making closer inspections, Fie murmured, sounding slightly concerned. "You think you can handle the truth?"

Alisa wasn't exactly known for handling unexpected situations well.

"I…" Her words died as she closed her mouth. A short, silent pause went by before she closed her eyes and shook her head, as if banishing some thoughts away. "... You're right, with all the things going on right now, I probably shouldn't get distracted by this. So…" Another tense pause. "...Yeah, don't tell me about that now."

Fie nodded as she opened up the drawer, only to find some spare notebooks. Nothing interesting at first glance, but she still flipped through every page. 

All blank.

"Though… if he has been making shady deals with jaegers and possibly other shady groups…" Alisa pondered out loud, voice now tinged with suspicion. "Don't you think it's strange that he and Rean are acquaintances?"

Mn… Fie stopped her investigation and curiously turned to look back at Alisa. "You think the reason Rean knows this Alberich guy is because he’s part of a shady group or something?"

The blonde hesitantly shrugged, clearly nervous and ashamed to come up with such a suggestion. "I don't know, I'm not familiar with this kind of stuff. Heck, I wouldn't have known you were a jaeger if no one said anything. And, I'm only assuming Alberich only made illegal transactions" she sighed while her fingers were awkwardly playing together. "But, that's why I'm asking you. Do you think… he might've been a jaeger or something before..?"

…Huh. Rean possibly being an ex-jaeger. What a thought.

"Nevermind, that's a silly thought!" Alisa blurted out in embarrassment. "I mean, his biological family was attacked by jaegers. Why would he…"

Fie was thinking about it. Really, really thinking about it. Ignoring his inconsistent behavior at the moment, nothing about his weapon or style of fighting gave her jaeger vibes. The way he moved was way too disciplined (or restrained, if Laura was right about him holding back). She couldn’t say she was completely sure, but she felt 99% sure that he was not a jaeger.

At the same time, she was 100% sure there was more to his background than being a victim of noble jealousy and getting adopted by nobles. His imperfect technique with his crafts hid it well, but Fie could tell that Rean had a lot of experience with fighting. 

Reflexes, sensory perception, situation alertness, battle tactics and strategy… These were things that got honed through sheer amounts of training and experience. Rean's level with these things were surprisingly advanced, far more advanced than his skill with his Eight Leaves One Blade training. It didn't line up with how he claimed to be a beginner dropout of his sword school and only wielded his tachi for only about five years. 

Fie was terrible at math, but even she knew his skills didn't add up.

"Didn't he also say that his father brought him to the Schwarzers afterwards?” Fie tuned back into her companion’s argument. “There's no period of time in his life where he could've been dealing with shady people if he was busy adjusting to the life of a noble," Alisa said, ending Fie's musings with logic.

Okay, maybe the only reasoning was that Rean was just stupidly talented.

Still, they could both sense that there was something inconsistent with this story.

"Doesn't explain how he knows the Alberich guy."

Alisa ran a hand down her face, frustrated that they got nowhere with this train of thought. "I guess we'll just have to wait for answers from his family. Like, just because not-father made some shady deals with jaegers doesn't mean he couldn't make not-shady deals with nobles." 

Fie almost clicked her tongue in slight annoyance, not exactly wanting to keep playing the waiting game, but then her ears picked up on rapid footsteps.

“Alisa? Fie?”

Millium suddenly appeared by the door frame, followed by Machias. The former looked at the curiously, while the latter’s gaze held grogginess from just waking up.

“Looking around Rean’s room?” The stickler for the rules didn’t sound too upset. Rather, he sounded interested. “What did you find?”

“Nothin’ interesting,” Fie sighed, ready to leave the room. For someone who kept his secrets close to himself, she really shouldn’t be surprised that no clues were left behi—

“Woah!” Millium exclaimed, pointing at the bookshelf full of origami horses. “There’s more!”

The three watched her suddenly bounce toward the bookshelf and pluck out the three in the front of the bunch. Oddly enough, while their shape seemed perfect, the paper was all crippled, like they had been crumpled up into balls of paper before being used for origami. Millium held the three paper horses out toward them, letting them get a closer look.

There, fragmented sentences glared back at them, only incomplete from the folds that held the paper structures together. None of the other origami creations had any words on them, and Fie didn’t remember anyone using non-blank paper to make these things. 

“I barged into Rean’s room last week to give him ghost protection like I did for all of you, remember?” Millium’s eyes sparkled during her explanation. “I remember looking at these because they looked pretty neat and there were only five back then. Now there are more friends!”

Suddenly, Fie grabbed one of the creations, attempting to unfold the horses and accidentally tearing the paper apart. 

“What are you doing?” Machias cringed at the sound.

“The words. I wanna see what’s on them,” Fie replied, though she did stop fiddling with the origami creation, knowing she was only going to destroy them further. Walking up to her blonde companion, she handed her the origami horses. “Can you unfold them without ripping them up more?”

Alisa wordlessly accepted, immediately moving to delicately unfold the paper..

“This… looks like a letter,” Machias noted, looking over Alisa’s shoulder as she completely unwrapped the first origami horse. 

Ruby eyes quickly scanned the letter. “It’s Rean's handwriting, and it's to… His little sister.” She hesitantly looked up to the rest of her classmates. “Should we really be looking at this?” 

Fie snatched the paper without a care. The concept of privacy was scarce in the jaeger life, and she hadn’t yet learned to respect such a thing either. “Could be a clue. Let’s see…”

Dear Elise,

It’s good to hear that you’re doing well in school and making great friends. I hope you continue to stay safe and enjoy school life.

You don’t have to worry about me. Like you, I’ve been enjoying school as well. While the workload is intense, I'm handling myself well. It helps that I’ve made wonderful friends here too, so things don’t seem too overwhelming with them.

I know this is off topic, but I’ve been thinking about the future recently. About what I want to do. Can you believe it? Me and the future? Haha. Anyway, one option is that I’ll join the army. This way, I also won’t be causing any more trouble for our family, so at least you can all have the respect you deserve from your peers. It’s the only way I can repay you, Mom, and Dad for all you’ve done for me.

The other option, however… 

“Looks like it ends there,” Machias observed, raising one of his eyebrows in interest. “Seems like a draft that he wasn’t happy with, hence why it’s probably all crippled up if he wanted to trash this.”

And he definitely wrote this before their most recent field study. “Wow, look at that. He called us his friends. And he sounds so positive and friendly and self depreciating, just like how he used to. Completely different from now.” 

Alisa nodded to Fie’s statement, already getting ready to unwrap the other horse. “Yeah, and it sounds so heartfelt and honest here… Kind of like he was writing to himself more than to his sister. It makes his current act all the more harder to believe, if this is him being honest.”

Well, there was still the possibility that Rean was lying to his family too, so they couldn’t be one hundred percent sure this was an accurate representation of his true feelings. 

“I’m super surprised that Rean wants to be a soldier though,” Millium piped up with an innocent grin, curiously rereading the letter. “Like, he doesn’t suit the soldier type at all, compared to Instructor Neithardt and that guy we met at Nord!”

“Sounds more like he chose that occupation to get away from his family though,” Alisa muttered. Given how he ditched his family picture here, Fie would have to agree. 

Though… She wondered what Rean's second option was…

“Huh?” Millium owlishly blinked, not having heard Alisa's mutter.

“Nothing! Let’s just see what this next paper says…”

Everyone gathered around her, watching her open the last fold.

0000. Old Schoolhouse.

~ G

Now this was just oozing suspiciousness. 

“A meeting at the old schoolhouse at midnight? That’s definitely a conversation they want no one to hear,” Fie mulled. “Too bad there’s no date and the sender is pretty much a myster—”

Her voice died when she saw Alisa’s eyes widen, expression full of alarm. Fie and Machias exchanged curious glances.

“Alisa? Do you perhaps know something about this?”

The blonde choked over her words. “It’s… probably nothing. There’s no way—”

Fie nudged her arm with an elbow. “Spill anyway.”

Instead, Millium was the one who answered, jumping up with a loud, surprised gasp. “Woah! Isn’t G the name of one of those terrorist guys we met at Nord?!”

“...”

“...”

“...”

“WHAT?!” Machias eventually broke the silence with a loud shriek, adding his perfectly understandable two cents of the situation. 

“So.” Fie turned her gaze to the paper, scrutinizing every detail even though she would gain nothing. “Rean’s secretly a terrorist then?”

“L- Let’s not jump to conclusions. G is just an initial, so it could be anyone…”Alisa held her hands out as if to stop her turbulent thoughts. “We literally just had a discussion about how Rean isn’t actually a bad person! It doesn’t make sense based on what we observed. This—” The paper in her hands crumpled. “--Would make him a super jerk! And a criminal! And unforgivable!”

True, it wouldn’t be consistent with what they understood of Rean’s character so far. (Whatever their understanding was). 

Still, Fie couldn’t not play the devil’s advocate. “I mean, Rean started acting all weird in Nord. And this guy named G happened to be there too. Plus, we did say Rean could be part of a shady group because of his connection to the Alberich guy. I’d say terrorism is pretty shady…”

Before Alisa could reply, Machias held a slightly shaky hand up between them. “H- Hold on a minute. What do you mean Rean could be part of a shady group? And who the hell is Alberich?”

“Lughman is Alberich,” Fie bluntly summarized. “Alberich sells weapons to jaegers. Alberich’s acquaintances are probably mostly shady. Rean knows him so he might be shady. Could even be a jaeger. Or something shadier.”

“W H A T.”

Machias’ jaw could’ve dropped to the floor from the crazy theories. Fie even waved her hand in front of his eyes and poked his shoulder to get a response, but there was nothing. 

Well, they officially broke  Machias’ brain.

Millium hummed, slightly pouting at the revelation of this new information. “His background information didn’t say anything about that, and nothing gets past the Intelligence Division for too long! Well, except terrorism and other shady groups for now!”

Fie turned to look back at Alisa. “See, terrorism’s completely plausible.” 

“You’re taking this too lightly,” Alisa sighed, successfully managing to reign her shock in. “That would mean he’s related to almost sparking a war between Erebonia and Calvard. Not to mention, he willingly endangered Gaius’ home. If he’s willing to hurt one of classmates to that extent, it would definitely mean that everything we thought we knew about him up until now is a lie.”

Alright, maybe she should abandon the conspiracy theory, especially after seeing Alisa get all upset. Personally, she wouldn’t mind at all if Rean was secretly a terrorist, although she had her upbringing as a jaeger to thank for that. Conflict and war? Nothing new there. 

(However, she had to admit that bringing conflict to a friend’s family did cross a line… Could she be okay with someone who hurt her friends, even if that someone was also a friend?)

Nonchalantly changing the topic, Fie shrugged, “I’m surprised you were quick to defend him though. Considering, you know.” 

The blonde shrugged, turning her head away. “It’s just that Rean being a terrorist is a pretty stupid idea!” 

Machias finally regained his composure, moving his hands to adjust his glasses on his face. “I’d eat my shoe before I believe Rean—or anyone here—is secretly into terrorism!”

“Aha, yeah!” Millium agreed, somewhat awkwardly. “And I’m totally not in this school to investigate any connections between people in this school and terrorism! Yeah.”

“...”

“...”

“...”

“...Sometimes you say stuff so crazy that I don’t even know when you're lying or telling the truth,” their bespectacled classmate eventually sighed.

“Anyway…” Alisa decided to ignore the entire outburst. Her fingers then moved to pick the third paper horse. “Let's see what's written on this one."

"Someone's eager now. What happened to respecting privacy?"

Alisa hissed at Fie. "You started it! I just don't like to leave jobs unfinished!"

"Uh huh, sure," Fie smirked in amusement as she looked around the other's shoulder to read the opened paper.

Alas, what the boy truly yearns for but believes that he will never achieve…

Is to be himself.

"That's different,” was her astute observation.

“This is less of a message and more of a narration. Maybe a quote from a book or something?” Alisa noted, eyebrows furrowing deep in thought. “The handwriting is different from Rean or this ‘G’ person. It doesn't look familiar at all to me.”

Hm.

Upon further inspection, the handwriting looked somewhat familiar to her. It had the extravagant, slick strokes and curved lines that were normal for noble penmanship, based on what she had seen from Laura, Jusis, and Rean.

The handwriting here was distinct because each stroke was exaggeratedly long and the curves were extremely pronounced. Fie wasn't the type to pay attention to details like this, but even this stood out to her.

“Wait a minute,” Machias started to say, thinking along the same lines as Fie. “Isn’t this—!”

She had already broken into a sprint toward the third floor, driven by a sudden memory. Bursting into her own room, she rummaged through her drawers to find a notebook.

Alisa, Machias, and Millium managed to catch up by the time Fie flipped through the pages and a familiar letter fell out. She had kept it all this time stuck in her field study journal this whole time, mostly because she was too lazy to walk to a trash can whenever she thought about disposing of it. 

“You gotta be kidding me!” Machias hissed under his breath. 

"What is that?"

Fie smirked as she glanced at the letter, confirming that the handwriting was the same. Holding the paper at Alisa, she explained, "It's from Phantom Thief B. When he kidnapped Machias and challenged us to an imposter game."

"Huh?!" Alisa practically snatched the phantom thief's letter, closely comparing the two notes. They were the same. Her eyes widened more as if her brain crashed and she almost screamed in frustration. "What the heck is this even supposed to mean?!"

“They know each other? He did call Rean out before he disappeared,” Machias suggested, though he was grasping for straws when trying to figure out how and why. “But then, what did that mean?”

Right… The phantom thief did mention that Rean amused him the most, though she only thought it was because they kinda grilled him during the interrogations.

Millium hummed out loud again, letting her imagination run wild. “Maybe he’s conspiring with the world’s greatest thief to steal something!  Or maybe they’re just casual penpals? Ooh! Or maybe it’s related to Boroso!” Before anyone could question what the heck she was talking about, she suddenly tilted her head in confusion. “Borosu? Or Orboros? Orb-something? It's a secret society or something like that.”

Wow, so they went from theorizing the possibility of Rean being an ex-jaeger, to being a terrorist, and now to belonging to a secret society. She was sure that if Jusis or any other sensible member of the class was here, they'd tell them to knock it off with the conspiracy.

Alisa and Machias’ faces were both scrunched up in equal levels of extreme exasperation. “What are you even talking about?!”

“Ohrrb-ross— Uhhhhhhhh…”

Fie turned toward the shocked duo, unbothered by Millium’s apparent devolving thought process. “Anyway, while she’s figuring that out, I have a bigger question.” Taking the crumpled papers into her hand, she explained, “Don’t you think it’s strange that he would just make origami out of these papers instead of properly disposing of them? He doesn’t like talking much about his own feelings, and this second paper… I seriously doubt he would want anyone to see this. Same with the third paper.”

Rean hadn’t left anything suspicious behind except these papers. 

Was it intentional?

“That’s true…” Machias rubbed his chin, deep in thought. “Clearly, he meant to dispose of them, considering how the papers seemed to be all crippled up before. Instead, he ended up folding them and keeping them on his shelf… Anyone looking closely enough would spot the words on them.”

“...It’s kind of like they were intended to be found by other people, in a discrete way,” Alisa frowned. “But then, why would Rean do that?”

People only went through such lengths to communicate with others if they were worried about being listened to. However, Fie felt no such concern in this dorm besides the ghost. Plus, if there was someone constantly observing Rean, then surely Sara would’ve noticed? The woman may be lacking in various aspects, but she had skill and instincts. Something like this wouldn’t bypass her senses.

Fie shrugged. “Maybe it was someone else? They could’ve planted these here for us to find? The phantom thief's impressively sneaky, so he could've done it."

If that was true, then that meant they couldn't completely trust what was written on these papers. The second and third letters didn’t address anyone’s name, so it was entirely possible they weren’t even for Rean. They could just be red herrings to distract the class. 

And that would only bring up a billion more questions. 

“But then, why—”

“Good morning Lady Alisa, Lady Fie, Lady Millium, and Master Machias.”

"Aidios!" Machias hissed, spinning around to greet the newcomer. "You nearly gave me a heart attack!"

"Oh, that doesn't sound good. My apologies, Master Machias. Would you like me to rush you to the infirmary?"

"No, it's alright…"

Fie hid her surprise as she turned to face the maid who was now bowing at them from the doorway. She had to admit, Sharon was pretty darn good at concealing her presence wherever she went, managing to not alert her senses until the last moment. 

Were all maids and butlers supposed to be like ninjas? She remembered Patrick's butler had some impressive skills too.

“Good morning, Sharon,” Alisa slightly smiled, although her soft expression seemed a bit forced. It was probably hard to pretend to be happy after unraveling several potential conspiracies about Rean. “Do you have something to tell us?”

Looking around the room, the woman’s gaze seemed to stay slightly longer on the papers bunched in Fie's hands before moving on.

(And, was it just her imagination, or did Sharon's eyes crinkle for just a moment? She couldn't tell; Sharon's poker face could rival Boss's.)

“I just wanted to let you all know that I have prepared breakfast for all of you in the kitchen,” Sharon smiled, deftly spinning on her heel to turn away from the room. “I’m sure you all need to restore your energy levels after all the detective work you’ve been doing.”

Alisa sighed. “I will admit that I’m kind of drained from processing all of this information, and it doesn’t help that a lot of what we came up with might just be misunderstandings…”

Fie's stomach growled in agreement.

“We should also start getting ready to go to class,” Machias mumbled as he glanced at his watch. The school day was going to begin soon.  “We can continue the rest of this discussion with the rest of the class when we return to the dorms, alright?”

Fie and Alisa started to follow them, only to glance back when they realized Millium was still mumbling to herself, still trying to figure out the name of the random secret society she had brought up. “Houro? No, oar! And the b part was borus? Or baras? Boar? Pig… Hm…”

“Millium?” Alisa cautiously approached the girl. She almost leapt backwards in shock when said girl suddenly jumped, grinning in victory as she probably remembered the name.

"Oar-boars! That's the name of the secret society!"

No one believed her.

And, probably due to Millium’s randomness, Sharon stifled a chuckle.

---

Class had gone by normally, without any drama. By that, she meant: Rean left the classroom without saying a word and the rest of the class didn’t try to hunt him down. They had all decided beforehand to give him space, in fear that he might pull another move to separate himself more from the class.

Anyway, instead of meeting up with the gardening club after school, Fie hunted down the flash of magenta hair that zoomed up the school stairs. Thankfully, no students got in her way because of the whole "I'm a bloodthirsty jaeger thing," and Fie couldn't help but think it was a blessing. 

Arriving at the rooftop, she found Class VII’s notorious homeroom instructor standing by the railing. There was a slight fog covering the area, though it wasn't strong enough to hide the students milling around school grounds, participating in school clubs. The fog, however, was effective enough in instilling a feeling of mystery and anticipation within Fie. Somehow, just the small weather change made her upcoming conversation with Sara feel a little more… tense.

“Sara, you been productive recently?”

"Excuse you, I've always been productive!" Sara huffed, crossing her arms and sending Fie a whiney glare.

Nevermind, take that thought back. There was no universe where Fie could take Sara seriously.

A smirk edged on her lips. "Productive as a teacher or as a drunk?"

The woman responded by placing the back of her hand against her forehead, pretending like she was about to faint. "Oh, I do so much for you kids that you'll never know!” Her head dramatically shook side to side. “I’m sooo underappreciated!”

"Luckily for you, you have a chance to earn some brownie points." Fie thrust out two wrinkly papers out to the woman. 

Right. This was her last resort. As much as Sara pretended to be a useless instructor who let her students just figure out stuff on their own, she was still an ex-jaeger and, more importantly, an ex-bracer.

This woman had connections. Resources. While Fie preferred to not rely on Sara as much as she already did, she was willing to make some sacrifices if it meant fixing the uncomfortable mess between Class VII and Rean.

"Whaa's this?"

This is why she preferred not relying on Sara. She took forever to get serious, always in the name of 'Enjoy youth while I deal with the fun adult things!'

Fie shoved the papers against the woman's shoulder. "I know you're not drunk. Read it."

Just one glance at G’s note was enough to get those amber eyes to sharpen, her body slightly stiffening in surprise. The next moment, her body loosened, not wanting her student to get the wrong idea that this was something serious (even though Fie already knew otherwise). “Where did these come from?” 

"Rean's room."

Fie watched for any change in Sara's body language, immediately picking up on the slight frown on the edge of her lips.

"Wow, that kid's sure got some interesting pen-pals. And oh my, I can't believe he's been breaking curfew like that!"

They were going to get nowhere if Sara was going to keep being like this.

Thankfully, Fie had a talent in getting straight to the point. Bluntly, she asked, "Do you think Rean has a connection to terrorism or Oar-Boars?"

While Millium often came up with outlandish connections, these were the only two leads they had on why these letters were in Rean's room.

It didn't matter whether or not Sara confirmed or denied the question, at least they could focus on looking elsewhere—

"What the heck is an Oar-Boars?!" Sara’s confusion was so palpable and genuine that Fie actually felt stupid. And she didn't like it when it was Sara out of all people who made her feel dumb.

Though, to be fair, Oar-Boars did sound too stupid of a name for any  secret society that took itself seriously.

"Secret society," Fie muttered, trying to sound like she wasn't a complete idiot. "We think Rean has some shady background because he has some shady connections with that masked thief and an illegal weapons dealer. He's also been acting weird since that terrorist incident at the others' last field study, so…"

She rarely talked long, so it felt strange to recount everything the Class had managed to loosely string together. Especially in front of Sara, she actually felt like a student who was giving a report that she put effort into.

It was such a strange feeling.

When she finished talking, she noticed how Sara's eyes were wide, though she didn't know the reason. Maybe Sara didn't even know much of what they figured out?

The woman did regain her usual composure, by dramatically raising her voice.

“Man, you kids are scary! You dug up all this, and all you had to do was snoop around and use your heads together. These field studies really taught you well,” Sara sighed, wiping a fake tear from her eye. “Honestly, it brings a tear to my eye, and to think you all hated each other on day one!”

Fie flatly glared at her, not at all amused by the emotional talk or performance. “You can cut the sentimental crap, old lady. I just want answers.”

At once, Sara scowled as she crossed her arms. “Come on! Can I get just a little teacher appreciation here?”

“No. I just want answers from you.”

Amber eyes glared back at her until a smug grin suddenly creeped along her features. “I’ll tell you one thing if you tell me one good thing I’ve done as an instructor!”

Aw crap.

“...”

The wind whistled through the air, blowing a couple of leaves with it as the silence continued.

“Seriously?! You can’t even think of a single thing?!” 

Ugh, Sara could be so petty. 

“I… appreciate you for…” Fie grit out, mind racing for the right words to appease this woman. “For… Forcing me to attend this school. Against my will. To learn stuff I don’t really care about.” Judging by Sara’s deteriorating grin, she wasn’t saying anything the instructor wanted to hear.   

Time to start all over.

"I don't regret this. You as an instructor. Me as a student. Them..." The levels of sap emanating from these spoken words were mildly strange but not quite uncomfortable. "As my friends."

Sara's eyes softened as she let out a sigh. "I guess that's the best compliment I can get from you. You've really grown from that uncaring, loner girl you used to be." A hand lowered to pat Fie's head, much to her indifference. "I'm proud of ya; I bet Ol' Rutger would be too."

What was this woman talking about? Fie didn’t do much special. But, just thinking Boss would be proud of her warmed her cheeks a bit.

"Kay, so gimme my answer now."

"The heck's with that transition?! You kids gotta take the time to appreciate youth more!"

"Then stop wasting my precious time as a "youth" by spouting old lady advice at me." Fie stuck her tongue out in mischief. "Answers. Now."

Sara huffed, childishly turning her head away. A silence then passed as she stubbornly refused to say anything to the girl who probably ruined her pride.

"Sara—"

"Ouroboros."

Fie blinked, not understanding the word. "What?"

"That's all I'm saying for the lack of respect you've shown me." Oh crap, she really pissed her off now. Heels clicked together as Sara waved her off and moved towards the doors. “Information about that group’s already scarce enough, but I’m sure you kids will figure some things out together as you’ve been. Especially since you have Millium on your side.”

Was… that a confirmation then? That Sara had suspicions that Rean had a connection to Ouroboros?

(Wow, that sounded way cooler than Oar-Boars).

Sighing when she heard the door slam behind the whimsical instructor, Fie walked toward the edge of the roof and leaned against the railing, deep in thought.

Despite receiving more information and confirming that Millium wasn’t the only one who thought Rean had connections to a super mysterious group, she felt like a dead end. If Rean was part of this Ouroboros thing or something else, what were they going to do about it?

It wasn't like they could just tell him to quit. Loyalties or whatnot were hard to break. That would be like asking Fie to choose between Zephyr and Class VII. Of course she would choose—

Eyes sweeping across the school grounds from the vantage point of the top, Fie easily caught the figures of her classmates. Jusis was feeding the horses, Alisa was arguing with her noble rival, Machias was yelling at nobles, Laura and Emma were talking to their respective clubmates, and Millium was in a silly pose as Gaius painted her figure. One of the windows was open below her, allowing melodious music to reach her ears, telling her that Elliot was also peacefully minding his business.

The scene would’ve felt complete if she could catch a glimpse of Rean running around and doing some errands, but such a sight never showed itself. 

Oh— wait. 

Her head slightly jolted the moment her eyes caught a glimpse of black hair appearing from the direction of the old schoolhouse. He was clearly ignoring Towa and Crow, who seemed to be trailing after him. For some reason, the sight of Rean and the sight of him not being completely alone brought her some strange feeling of… 

Relief. 

…

She was no stranger to loneliness but she had no interest in a reunion with it. That being said, if she could choose between Zephyr and Class VII… If Rean had to choose between his own thing and Class VII… They would obviously choose…

…

…Hm.

 

---

---

 

“Laura.”

It was a strange thing, how Rean’s avoidance of them was beginning to be a status quo— to the point where no one would blink an eye whenever he left without a word. It had only been five days since they last spoke; ten days since they last held an actual conversation. 

So much change… In so little time. 

Time was a fickle thing. Same as acceptance. Even while everyone was still scrambling for answers behind his sudden change in behavior, Laura sometimes found herself having strange thoughts. 

If days continued to go by without any explanation about Rean, could enough time pass where they would simply have to give up? If Rean refused to change in the coming days and in the coming months, could they accept this as the new normal?

She shook her head, as if shaking those thoughts away. 

Giving up on your friends was… wrong. 

…

“Laura!”

Amber eyes blinked awake at the voices calling out to her. Paying attention to her surroundings, she saw her classmates—with the exception of Rean and Fie—around her in their classroom. 

“Are you alright?” Emma tilted her head at her in concern. “You look tired.”

Well.

She had been investigating everything and came up empty on all fronts. There had been no trace of the ghost ever since their return from their field studies. The move into the noble dorms also bore little new nuggets of knowledge. As opposed to initial concerns, she, Jusis, and Rean faced no drama upon their arrival (as far as she was aware). Not to say they had a warm welcome; the majority of the nobles here avoided them, only the ones whom they were already friendly with continued to be amicable.

Patrolling every nook and cranny for any danger in this school may have taken a toll out of her, especially combined with her studies. It would be wise to take a nap soon; she would have to later consult Fie on how to get the most efficient daytime sleep.

“I admit, I feel somewhat tired,” she couldn't help the yawn that escaped her. To be honest, however, she didn’t feel like she pushed herself far enough to feel this drained. “The evidence we have just been presented with the rest of the class certainly doesn’t help give me any relief.”

Jusis sighed, agreeing with her. “True. On top of all the problems we already face, we now also have this ridiculous riddle from that annoying thief.” His crystal blue eyes pointed upwards, as if to glare at the imaginary figure of the phantom thief. “That guy needs to get a life.”

“At least it’s not a priority, right?” Elliot tried to assure them. “We can just ignore that note in favor of, well, everything else.”

Everything else was quite a lot.

Covering her mouth, Laura tried to stifle another tired yawn. This action clearly didn’t go unnoticed by the others.

"With so many issues to deal with, how about we split the work more evenly?" Gaius suggested. "Of course we'll all be on the lookout for anything new, but each of us will focus on a specific investigation."

There were nods from multiple classmates.

"What do you suggest?" asked Elliot.

Gaius glanced at both Laura and Jusis. "You two can keep monitoring what's happening in the noble dorms. As for the rest of us…" His even, thoughtful gaze matched all of their inquisitive stares. "We can split into three groups, alternating each day. Three of us will rest. Two will investigate the dorms for any signs of the ghost or any possible intruder. And two will… patrol the town at night."

"That makes sense," Machias grunted in agreement. "If we take the notes in Rean's room seriously, then that means someone has been having secret meetings at night and someone wants us to know about it. We might find out an answer to who."

"I hope Instructor Sara doesn't find out," Emma muttered.

Jusis nonchalantly shrugged. "I seriously doubt she would care." 

"Plus," Alisa flipped her hair back, smiling to assuage Emma's concerns. "I can just ask Sharon to distract her with another crate of beer."

Millium laughed. "Wow, why does it sound like you've done that before?"

The blonde awkwardly looked away, providing no response.

Well, it seemed like there were no disagreements with this arrangement. Laura was only slightly upset that her searches would mostly remain in one location, but she knew to be aware of her limits.

---

She had to leave swim practice early. Her fatigue was simply not allowing her to perform at her best, much to her frustration. Thankfully, all the members understood and encouraged her to take a break. Monica even walked her out and wished her to feel better soon. 

So, now Laura was walking away from the Gymnasium, relaxing in the refreshing coolness of the slight fog that reminded her of Legram. When she walked around the corner of the main school building, she saw two familiar faces arrive from the direction of the Old Schoolhouse. 

“It’s like what they said, he’s really like a completely different person,” Towa solemnly admitted to her companion. “He even looked a bit scary when you intervened…”

Crow shrugged, putting his arms behind his head as he continued his relaxed walk, a stark contrast to Towa’s timid gait. “To be fair, that noble was pretty annoying. I’d want to punch him in the face too if I was Rean.”

Suddenly feeling more awake upon hearing her elusive friend’s name, Laura eagerly approached them. “Pardon me,” she slightly bowed toward them. “Did you just see Rean? What happened?”

“Yep, it’s an interesting story,” Crow snorted. “Me an’ Towa were just minding our own business when a coin of mine accidentally fell out of my pocket. So, I chase after it and that’s when I hear the melodic voice of everyone’s favorite gofer. I find Rean and he’s apparently with that Alphonse dude and Patty Cakes. All of a sudden, Alphonse randomly throws a punch." His hands then hid themselves in his pockets. "Rean dodged and probably would’ve followed up with a pretty sick punch to that guy’s face if I didn’t catch it in time.”

“Rean looked really mad,” Towa added in worry.

“Understatement of the century! He was practically screaming bloody murder with that glare! Gotta admit tho, it did look pretty hot. No wonder half the school’s in love with him.”

“Crow! Focus on the priorities here!”

“My bad, my bad~”

While the two continued their banter, Laura couldn’t help but narrow her eyes as she ran the story through her head one more time. What were Alphonse and Patrick doing near the Old Schoolhouse? What was Rean doing there? Could it be that he wanted to complete a trial by himself or that he wanted to rest in a place where not many people gather? 

She supposed she would have to ask one of them directly if she wanted any answers. Fortunately, while Rean and Alphonse were more likely to ignore her, at least Patrick was cooperative (whenever she held her sword).

The bigger question was…

“Towa, Crow, do you know the context of why Rean was so upset?” Even during the duel, Rean did not appear anywhere close to angry despite how it ended. He was upset, but he wasn’t quite as furious as these two made it sound.

What could make him snap like that?

Crow thoughtfully hummed before his mouth broke out into an apologetic chucke. “Ah, sorry, can’t say. He told me not to tell anyone, so I shall honor his wish~”

Wearing an upset pout, Towa turned back to face him. “Why is this the one time you do something someone tells you to do? You know, we’re really worried about him!”

“Hey, don’t make it sound like I ain’t a reliable senior. Remember when I did that one thing some time ago that I can’t remember the details of?”

Towa’s pout intensified. “Crow, I can think of multiple examples of your reliable behavior in the past week, but you’re only making yourself sound worse…”

Meanwhile, Laura had to suppress a frown. She didn’t know Crow that well, but his character reminded her a lot of the problems she used to have with Fie. Like Fie, he wasn’t doing great academically and he didn’t really seem to care about school at all. 

It sometimes made her wonder what such an odd character was doing in a rigorous school like Thors Military Academy in the first place.

“Crow,” Laura sighed. “Can you at least give us a hint about what happened?”

“A hint, huh?” He didn’t sound interested in relenting.

“Please.”

Passive crimson eyes looked up at the unclear sky for a few seconds. Eventually, Crow’s gaze returned back to her and his mischievous smirk was perfectly in place. 

“Let’s say, hypothetically, you’re in danger…”

She couldn’t conceal her frown any longer. Already, her thoughts were racing. 

“...What would you expect Rean to do?”

---

If it was the Rean they used to know, it would be that he would protect the one in danger.

Laura did want to keep the same faith and say that the answer was the same, but he was far too… unpredictable. She still couldn’t wrap her head around how he had bruised Elliot, so she didn't think anyone could predict or expect any typical behavior from him. 

Plus, he’d been acting like the whole class didn’t exist for the past few days, so why would he let himself react with anger on someone else’s behalf? 

Regardless of the answer though, she also couldn’t see how the question was related to whatever Crow saw happen between Rean and Alphonse. Yes, it was a hypothetical, but only in terms of who was in danger and to what extent. He still meant that someone was possibly being threatened, causing Rean to lash out at Alphonse. 

Did that mean Alphonse was threatening someone who Rean still dared to care about? Or did that mean there was a different danger?

Unfortunately, Crow refused to answer any of her questions and went about his day with a mildly concerned Towa. Laura, on the other hand, decided to check the Old Schoolhouse to see if any new levels had opened up. 

None had. That ruled out the possibility that Rean was trying to do a trial by himself, though she wouldn’t put it past him to try such a thing in the future. 

Afterwards, she continued her walk to the noble dorms with these answerless questions, failing to deduce anything by herself. It didn’t help that her thoughts were starting to feel like the fog still haunting Trista; she really needed to get some rest.

Once she arrived at the dorm’s entrance, she spotted Vice-Principal Heinrich, holding a notebook and looking ready to barge into the building.

“Ah, Arseid!” Apparently he managed to see her in his peripheral vision. “How are you doing?”

“Well.” She neutrally responded. His tune was much more amicable and respectful than how he complained about Class VII in their classroom a few days ago. “What brings you here?”

Vice-Principal Heinrich twirled his mustache with his index and thumb. “Like I said before, I will be conducting an evaluation of your class. I have decided to start with the more finer students of Class VII, to at least pretend there is some hope for your class before I test the unrefined portion of your batch.”

Laura stifled a sigh, not liking the view Heinrich had on her class but also not wanting him to be aggravated by her attitude. Thankfully, she was gifted with an abundance of patience.

“I must admit that it was an intelligent move of you, Albarea, and Schwarzer to move into the noble dormitory and be surrounded by people more fitting of your status. It must have been tiring to associate with the lower class for so long.”

Laura. Had. An. Abundance. Of. Patience.

“I plan on returning to Class VII’s dormitory eventually,” she said with an even tone as she touched the handle of the entrance door. “This current arrangement was simply done because I wanted to grow more connections with other students. It is only temporary.”

Technically, it was not a lie. She did want to face other students, though not necessarily in a friendly way. 

She opened the door and walked inside, followed by the vice-principal who wanted to ask more questions. 

“WAIT! HOLD THE DOOR OPEN!”

She recognized the scream belonged to Patrick. At the command, she looked back to see Vice-Principal Heinrich just pass through the door and—

SLAM

The door suddenly shut by some extreme, invisible force. All at once, the lights flickered off and echoes of a multitude of other door slams sounded within the building.

“Wh- What in Aidios’ name is going on here?!” Heinrich immediately grabbed the door handles and used all his might to yank them open, only to fail. 

In the almost complete darkness, Laura could barely recognize the shadows of Patrick and Jusis.

“Oh, thank goodness you’re here, Laura,” Jusis sighed with the most relief she had ever heard from him. “I was going insane by being stuck with this nincompoop.”

“Don’t call me that!” Patrick hissed. “And I, on one hand, fear more for my safety with the appearance of another of your classmates! First you, then Schwarzer, and now Arseid! If she sends me a death glare too, I might combust!”

“Laura, please. Glare at him.”

She squinted around, trying to grasp anything else in their surroundings. With everything too dark, she opened her ARCUS, using the small glow from her master quartz to give some light. Keeping up with the conversation, she said, “Sorry, Jusis. Unfortunately, I need him alive to answer some questions of mine.”

“GODDESS, PLEASE! SPARE ME FROM ANY MORE INTERROGATIONS FROM THIS DEVILISH CLASS!” Patrick stepped away from her, fearfully shuddering. “Celestin needs to come back from his shopping duties already!”

A harsh cough sounded from behind Laura. Heinrich scowled at all of them, screeching, “Can someone explain to me what is going on?!”

Jusis folded his arms. “Isn’t it obvious? This place is haunted and wants to trap us here. Hyarms and I have been stuck here for a good quarter of an hour.” His blue eyes met her ambers. “Perhaps it’s related to the ghost.”

“Why would it be here—”

“G- Ghost?!” The vice-principal interrupted again, face completely stretched incredulously. “What are you spouting about?! There’s no such thing!” Despite his words, he enhanced his futile efforts in trying to open the door. 

“Uh…” Patrick lifted a finger, pointing over at the staircase. Hovering over the steps was a pair of glowing red orbs. “Is that..?”

The red orbs blinked just as an ominous, feminine chuckle echoed through the building. 

How strange. The voice sounded less broken this time. Was this even the same gho— 

THUD

Laura didn’t shift her eyes even as the red orbs vanished once more and the chill in the room seemed to also disappear, but she didn’t need to look to know that Vice-Principal Heinrich had collapsed.

“Goddess, even Millium was more dignified than that,” Jusis muttered, completely unimpressed with how the man fainted out of sheer fear. 

“How are you both so calm?!” Patrick exclaimed, now rubbing his eyes as if he thought this was a dream. “That thing might kill us!”

“Well, since Regnitz isn’t here, then I suppose you’ll be the first one to die instead, Hyarms. So, until then, I have nothing to worry about.”

"ALBAREA!"

Laura stifled a chuckle for Patrick’s unstable sanity (and for the fact that this was not an appropriate time to laugh). Jusis, you are a very cruel one.

With the ‘ghost’ seemingly gone, she picked up Heinrich’s unconscious form, uncaring for his notebook which fell to the floor. Jusis picked it up as she carried him toward one of the couches in the lobby and tried to lay him down as comfortably as possible.

“Interesting,” Jusis voiced out, uncaring for invading the man's privacy as he flipped through the pages of the notebook. “Looks like he already has some notes on us.”

Laura normally didn’t want to intrude on anyone’s personal notes without consent. However, given how much snooping around the class had to do to get any idea about what was going on with Rean, she had to admit becoming a little desensitized to the idea of violating privacy.

“Are you seriously ignoring our situation right now in favor of a notebook?!” Patrick exclaimed again, eyes darting around the area for any sign of the phantom.

Yes, she had to admit that doing such a thing was irresponsible, but… “Is there anyone else in the dorm?”

“No,” Jusis replied, having searched all the rooms with Patrick before she arrived.

“Then, with the ghost out of sight and everyone here, there is not much else we can do.” 

If danger presented itself, she would do everything to protect them. With a steady hand, she moved her ARCUS over the notebook to get a better view of the words. Apparently, Jusis had stopped on a page about her.

Laura S. Arseid.

Notes: Calm, dignified, strong, honorable (Not as much as Rixia though).

Extra note: FOR THE SWEET LOVE OF— KEEP HER AWAY FROM THE ORBAL COMPUTER CLASS.

Patrick looked over as well, curiosity getting the better of him (or maybe he needed a distraction from the fact this dormitory was still being haunted). “Rixia? Like that celebrity in Crossbell? This is… very not what I expected from our esteemed vice-principal,” he sweat-dropped.

“Agreed,” she muttered, not liking the extra note that was tagged onto her profile. She simply needed more training in the art of technology; surely, she wouldn’t be doomed to destroying every orbal vacuum she touched.

“I’m curious what he has to say about the likes of Regnitz, Fie, and Millium,” Jusis couldn’t hide his tone of amusement. After flipping through a couple blank pages, they discovered another profile, filled with much more writing.

Rean Schwarzer.

Notes: His commoner background shines through, failing to uphold the dignity of being the son of a baron. Shown to at least put an effort into maintaining Thor’s high-esteemed reputation, until recently. Grades are slipping. Rising tension between him and Henzel. Something changed - maybe due to the barbarous nature of Class VII? 

Extra note: Repeated offender of breaking curfew. Maybe actually listen to Valestein’s suggestion  

Her mind latched onto the part about Rean breaking curfew. 

“Seems more likely that Rean has had at least one rendezvous with G from the other letter,” Jusis shared her same thoughts. “As much as that concerns me, at least there’s a better chance of the class uncovering secrets when they start their investigations at night.”

"Indeed." And, speaking of uncovering secrets… “While no one is here, perhaps we could use this chance to dig up more information.” They could even be alerted to any new arrivals by the harsh slam of the door if the ghost continued to trap people in here. 

Instead of being an obstacle, this ghost thing presented them an opportunity. 

She earned an eyebrow hitch from Jusis. “The troublemakers’ bad influence must be rubbing off of you if you’re suggesting we break into Rean’s room.”

“Says the one who stole Vice-Principal Heinrich’s notebook.” She amusedly watched as Jusis then placed said object on the chest of the unconscious man.

“I did not,” Jusis said as he innocently raised his hands and showed how empty they now were. His eyes then pointed in the direction of the stairs. “Shall we, then?”

Throughout the whole conversation, Patrick stared at them with open-mouthed stupor. “How unnoble-like! To think that this is the behavior of the son of one of the great houses and the daughter of the Radiant Blademaster? Preposterous!”

“Like I said before, I don’t care about your opinion,” was all Jusis said about that as he started heading up the stairs. “Just stay there and watch over Heinrich.”

“I don’t take orders from you! And there’s no way I’m being left alone in these conditions!”

Laura gently placed a hand on the distressed noble’s shoulder. Whether it was a comforting gesture or not, she had no clue because of the eep! that escaped him. “That’s true. I still have questions for you. Let’s go.”

“NEVERMIND, MAYBE I’D RATHER DEAL WITH THE GHOST THAN THE TWO OF YOU!”

“Hmph. I’m glad we share the same sentiment, Hyarms.”

---

Laura ended up carrying the vice-principal as she followed her two companions up the barely visible stairs.

“It’s locked,” Jusis said as the door knob didn’t budge. “You wouldn’t happen to have picked up lock-picking from Fie, have you?”

“Unfortunately, no.” It was okay though, they still had another option. “How about we check Alphonse’s room? Perhaps we can find something about why he has a fixation on Rean?” 

(And perhaps end whatever possible harassment was going on between the two.)

Jusis nodded while Patrick seemed to simply accept his fate to be dragged along their investigation. 

Alphonse’s door was already slightly open when they arrived, so there was no concern about how to get inside. Laura laid the vice-principal against the wall as she started searching the room opposite of Jusis, starting with the desk full of papers. Already, she noticed that the handwriting wasn’t familiar to G. 

Sifting through the materials without greatly disturbing the organization, she side-glanced at Patrick and figured she might as well multitask. Hopefully, with her focused split, the teen wouldn’t feel as anxious as before. “So then, Patrick, I heard you and Alphonse encountered Rean earlier. How was that?”

She noticed Jusis glance up in interest while Patrick tensed slightly. “Ah, it was simply… small talk.”

She let out a neutral hum. “I heard that Alphonse attempted to attack Rean. How did that start?”

“Uh…” Patrick was pale, but he managed to cough into his fist and regain his composure. His voice returned with some confidence. “Well, while I would love to provide the information you desire, I have unfortunately agreed with Schwarzer to not speak a single word of what happened to anyone else. I cannot simply dishonor myself by breaking my word.”

“What a change of tune,” Jusis commented on the obvious excuse. “I thought you detested Rean’s guts.”

“I- I do! But even I would not go back on my word for someone like him!”

How curious. Rean managed to get both Crow and Patrick to not say anything about what they witnessed. With his current apathetic behavior, it was hard to imagine he could maintain respect with people who were less familiar with him…

Yet these two were willing to do him a favor and keep a secret. 

What could be so unique about this encounter that would warrant secrecy..?

Her pondering was interrupted by how a folded piece of paper slipped out of one of the books she was flipping through. Crouching to pick it up from underneath the table, she noticed the title, “Future Letter of Victory - Draft,” written on it. Opening up the fold, it appeared the words were formatted in a letter.

Dear Esteemed Older Brother,

I reject you and I reject this family. And guess who can’t do anything about it because I’ve achieved the same power that you love more than anything else. No longer can you look down on me because I earned this place while you were simply fed it, you fraud of a noble. No longer can you insult me because I have secured a wife—no, a princess more beautiful than yours! No longer can you intimidate me because I’ve proven to be strong enough to slay a demon!

Cross me and I swear that you will be next.

P.S. Here’s the wedding invitation.

This… sounded like quite a fantasy fueled by bitter feelings. Power? Princess? Demon? It was hard to believe he had such an imagination after all those insults he threw at Rean. It was also a little hard to take him seriously after reading this.

However… Should she be concerned by hints of violence that was written here?

Jusis walked over to her. “I found nothing of interest. Did you—”

He stopped when the lights suddenly flashed back on and the closing of a heavy door could be heard from the first floor. Laura didn’t know if that was a cue that the ghost was leaving them alone or if it was a trap, but she immediately slammed the letter back into the book and placed it back where she found it.

Patrick was trying and failing to act normal as he paced back-and-forth through the hallway. The sounds of footsteps climbed the stairs while Jusis swiftly closed Alphonse’s door after her.

Oh. Right. Heinrich. What was she going to do about his still fainted body laying against the wall?

She ended up doing nothing about it.

“What are you all doing here?” asked Alphonse’s somewhat haughty, somewhat suspicious voice as he climbed the final step to the second floor. His eyes narrowed at Heinrich’s form on the floor, but he decided not to comment.

“Apparently there was some malfunction with the orbal lights, so we decided to investigate it with the vice-principal,” Jusis smoothly lied without hesitation. “Heinrich did something with the machinery and accidentally zapped himself, resulting in what you are seeing now.”

Patrick wisely kept his mouth shut.

In response, Alphonse shrugged, not caring to spare them another glance as he walked toward his room. Laura, however, moved to block his way when she realized that this was an opportunity. 

It might be easier to get an answer out of him because he actually hated Rean and wouldn’t care to keep any secrets about him. 

“Alphonse, what did you talk to Rean about today?” Perhaps she jumped too quickly to the point, but the other was already glaring at her, full of impatience and annoyance.

“None of your business,” he hissed. “Now, could you please allow me entrance to my own room?”

Jusis only joined Laura in her stubborn effort to block the annoyed teen. “Not until you tell us.”

Even Alphonse wasn’t immune to the demands of the higher class. His teeth grit momentarily before turning into a smirk. “Just the usual putting trash in its rightful place, but he dared to try to attack me! For the life of me, I cannot fathom how you two tolerate and even go as far as befriending him.”

“You attacked him first,” Laura sternly said, watching the smirk immediately turn into a scowl.

“Tch. If you know that much, then there’s nothing new for you to know.”

…She should have known that talking to Alphonse would be a fruitless effort. Not seeing any more worth in the conversation, Laura and Jusis moved to the sides, allowing their foe to access his room.

Surprisingly, just before he closed the door behind him, Alphonse added with a scoff, “You ought to put a leash on that guard dog of yours before I don’t need to lie about self defense.”

Guard dog? They didn’t have a dog.

“Wha—”

The door closed. The two members of Class VII shared looks of confusion before turning to Patrick for an explanation. Or, they would have, if not for the fact that Patrick was no longer present on the floor.

Instead, frantic footsteps could be heard, rushing down the steps and out the entrance of the dorm.

Jusis sighed. “I didn’t think it was possible, but now I have more questions.”

“At least we have more pieces of the puzzle now.” Even if she didn’t know what meaning they had in the overall picture. All she really learned was that something happened between Rean and Alphonse today, and Rean somehow convinced Crow and Patrick to keep quiet about it.

And, only to add to the confusion, the ghost apparently appeared in the noble dormitory. Clearly, from Patrick’s reaction, this was the first time he had ever seen or heard about it. Did that mean it followed them here? Was it haunting them? Was it the same ghost as before? Why didn’t it do anything noteworthy, besides locking them in the dorm?

The urge to yawn returned, her brain protesting all these questions.

“I suppose we’ll re-analyze everything we learned later, with the rest of the class.” Jusis eyed her warily. “I think we earned some rest.”

Laura nodded, though she glanced at Heinrich, who was still unconscious. “What about him?”

“...I’ll handle it.”

The thing was, in Jusis’ language, sometimes that meant not doing anything at all if it involved someone he deemed to be a complete moron. She, however, would place faith in her friend and accept this chance to finally rest.

---

On the morning of the next day, the entire class except Rean arrived to class early, sharing anything new anyone learned from yesterday. Laura and Jusis had the most information to share, the content of which only resulted in more growing surprise and cluelessness. The following conversation ended up providing no insight about the Rean or ghost situation.

"Should we continue the ghost patrol in Class VII's dorms then?" Elliot asked, finger nervously scratching his cheek. "And for that matter, wouldn't Rean lose his excuse for staying in the noble dorms?"

Jusis huffed. "We all know Rean didn't leave our dormitory because of the ghost. He'll simply find another excuse to stay in the noble dormitory. As for the patrol, the ghost could potentially haunt anywhere, so I say keep it."

Machias and Millium were the next to share, explaining that they patrolled at night. Much to their disappointment, they discovered zero secret meetings. 

Fie was the last to add anything. She was slumping in her chair when she turned her head to face Millium and said, "Oh yeah. I talked to Sara yesterday. It's Ouroboros, not Oar-boars."

"Ohhhh," Millium sheepishly grinned. "Whoopsie. At least I was close enough for Sara to recognize it."

Laura furrowed her eyebrows. They had briefly mentioned the name yesterday, although they hadn’t emphasized it enough to be important to the discussion. “How would Sara know about it if it’s supposed to be a secret to the public? And what even is Ouroboros?”

“Well, Sara used to be a bracer. And before that, she used to be jaeger,” Millium hummed, completely ignorant of the shock quickly spreading through the class. “Bracers and some jaeger groups have a history of working against or working with Ouroboros.”

"...Pardon?" 

Fie, amused by how she casually dropped a bombshell of a secret, decided to add, “Sara wanted to keep it a secret because she thought it’d make her look cool and mysterious to the rest of you.”

“Not like that worked,” Alisa groaned.

“Our instructor is an ex-bracer and ex-jaeger…” Elliot muttered, unable to close his jaw from complete surprise. “I— Wait, was she Purple Lightning?!”

“There’s no freaking way!” Machias slammed his fists against his desk, oddly offended that he would say such a thing. “Purple Lightning was so efficient and graceful when she did her bracer work in Heimdallr. I even admired and idolized her for how she was always ready to help the common folk. There’s no way our deadbeat instructor could be—”

“Purple Lightning is Sara’s epithet,” Fie snorted, watching Machias’ sense of reality shatter before her eyes. “Looks like someone had a crush on our instructor. How scandalous~”

“Guess that woman isn’t so hopeless in the romance department if people like Regnitz exist.”

“SHUT THE F—”

Laura coughed loudly, stopping the conversation in its tracks and bringing the attention back to her. “Let’s get back on track.” Glancing at the clock, there wasn’t much time before classes officially started. “Millium. Again, what is Ouroboros?”

As she bounced from side to side in her chair, the young girl squeezed her eyes shut, trying to dig out the information from her memory. “Mmm, there’s not much about them. But they did cause the Orbal Shutdown phenomenon, if you remember that from a couple years ago. It was part of their plan to get a Sept-Terrion or something. It’s pretty complicated.”

Complicated indeed. For that matter, Millium was probably not the best person to explain such a group.

“It sounds like Ouroboros has the power to create a lot of chaos,” Gaius summarized while the others were still trying to wrap their heads around what was just revealed. “But then, how is this relevant to Rean?”

“Oh, it’s just that Bleublanc a.k.a Phantom Thief B is known to be an agent in Ouroboros! So I thought that, if Rean’s a penpal of his, then maybe there’s some connection to Ouroboros!”

Jusis pinched the bridge of his nose. “That is the most illogical deduction I’ve ever heard of.”

“Yeah…” Emma frowned. “Isn’t there the possibility that the phantom thief just snuck that note in Rean’s room just to mess with us?”

Laura agreed. “Perhaps B just wanted to plant false evidence to get us to doubt Rean like last time, for his own amusement.”  It would not be the first time. 

“I was thinking that too, but…” Fie lifted her legs to rest on her desk. “Sara basically confirmed it. At least, even she thinks there’s a connection between Rean and that organization.”

“...”

Well then. 

"Uh…" Elliot was surprisingly the one who broke the silence, awkwardly looking at Millium. “Do you know what Chancellor Osborne’s opinion on Ouroboros is?” 

What an oddly specific question.

“Uh… Gramps calls them snakes. Pretty sure I heard that he stole something from them too. I just know I’ve been told to be careful around them.”

“I see…” Elliot nervously folded his hands on his desk once he noticed everyone staring at him. “Then, I don’t think Rean would want to work with Ouroboros?”

What a seemingly random deduction.

Alisa narrowed her eyes at him. “How on a second! Why does it matter what the chancellor thinks about them?”

His eyes widened in surprise, like he wasn’t expecting this kind of follow-up question. “Oh, uh..!”

Elliot knew something.

With everyone’s intensifying stares, he started to nervously squirm in his seat and blurted out, “It's just that Rean’s like a big fan of Chancellor Osborne, so I doubt he’d work with an organization that the chancellor disapproves of!”

Well then. It did sound strange, but Laura wouldn't think Elliot would come up with such a random, specific statement.

“Wait.” Machias’ face scrunched up in confusion. “When did Rean show any indication that—”

RING

He was interrupted by the bell that announced the beginning of class, but… The class wasn't full. Everyone tried leaning to get a better look of the window through the door, wondering if they would see anyone outside their class room.

They didn’t.

And then a minute passed, marking both Rean and Instructor Sara late for class. 

“That’s not a good sign.”

Just as Fie said that, the door opened. Instead of anyone they were expecting, it was Vice-Principal Heinrich who marched in, looking like the ghost-scare yesterday never happened. While Laura was relieved that he seemed to have recovered from the events of yesterday, she grew increasingly concerned—

“Valestein is in Vandyke’s office with Schwarzer, so I will be teaching you until she returns,” Heinrich wasted no time explaining. 

What.

He pushed his glasses up the bridge of his nose and stared them all down, silently telling them that he refused to elaborate and was only here to teach them. “Now, unlike your lazy homeroom instructor, I am much more strict and fast-paced. May Aidios be with you if you fall behind.”

The class was a bit more concerned about what was going on in the principal’s office to even worry about that…

---

As promised, Rean and Instructor Sara returned to class about an hour later, both giving no indication whether the meeting at the principal’s office was good or bad. They acted the same as usual: Nonchalant. The lack of elaboration on their parts was nothing surprising, but no one was satisfied with it.

So, when school officially ended, nearly every member of Class VII badgered Instructor Sara for more answers before she could escape. Laura, however, discreetly watched Rean silently get up from his desk and leave the room.

She followed him.

There was no plan to confront him; she wouldn’t dare to do such a thing without consulting the class, especially after what happened with Machias. No, all she wanted was to keep him in her sight.

It was an impulsive decision, based purely on concern. With what occurred yesterday and with the visit to the principal’s office today, it felt like events in Rean’s life were suddenly increasing, and they had little clue about it.

Laura didn’t need to hear anything from him, not like she expected him to exchange any words with her. She was simply curious if she could witness something happen to him. Of course, this was assuming she didn’t lose track of him, and she didn’t have very high hopes because Rean proved to be quite an evasive individual.

By the time Rean exited the building, she was surprised he didn’t immediately bolt away like he usually did when someone was trying to follow him. The fact that there was thick fog covering the area would have aided in his escape as well.

But he didn’t. And she knew that Rean knew she was following him, because of that skill of his to be able to sense people’s presences. Laura also wasn’t even making much of an effort to hide herself since that was never a strength of hers. 

…Did that mean he didn’t care this time around? Or was he purposely leading her somewhere?

She wanted to ask, but she feared it might provoke him into running off as usual. Instead, she maintained her silence, taking her time to admire the (barely visible) surroundings and be self-conscious of the state of her—

She frowned as she glanced at her dominant arm. She could sense… a slight weakness there. Did she not rest enough yesterday?

“Laura.”

Her eyes widened in shock, reaching up to meet the lilacs staring back at her. 

“Why are you following me?”

She gulped, still processing the fact that Rean was actually speaking to and looking at her. She never expected him to actually initiate a conversation with her, especially after how he made it clear he didn’t want to talk to anyone anymore. 

Did something change during that meeting in the principal’s office? Or was this also a result of what happened between him and Alphonse yesterday?

“I wanted to ask you about what happened in Principal Vandyke’s office.” Her voice returned to her, perfectly level and honest. Only now did she notice that they had stopped in front of Class VII’s dormitory, an odd location since Rean was the one who wanted to move out.

He shrugged in reply. “It’s none of your business.”

The ensuing silence was heavy as they both stared each other down. Laura wasn’t quite sure what was going on, questioning what Rean was trying to get from interacting with her. He was smart enough to figure out why Laura was concerned. They had quite literally just watched their class burst into chaos over the topic, so he couldn’t have been expecting a different answer, could he?

“Let me rephrase that,” Rean then said, not breaking their eye-contact. “Why do you still care about my business?”

Something was different. His tone, while trying to maintain indifference, held hints of something else, something… fragile.

“I…” Her tongue was heavy, burdened by the worry she might say something to break whatever fragility she was witnessing, and Rean would completely close up again. “We’re friends. I’d worry if something happened to you, and a trip to the principal’s office is often a cause for concern.”

Slowly, Rean took in a long breath of air through his nose, and eventually exhaled slowly though his mouth. How peculiar that he’d been using this breathing technique quite often recently. 

“I’ve made it clear that I want nothing to do with you guys. Yet I still see you snooping around in the name of being worried about me.” 

His gaze was as hard as steel, but Laura refused to be intimidated.

“We still think you’re our friend.” Her eyes narrowed, catching an almost imperceptible twitch in his fingers. “It takes more than a cold shoulder to convince us to abandon you, especially after everything we’ve been through together.”

“It’s only been three months.”

“Many things happened these three months,” she firmly rebutted, growing more confident and knowing full well where his logic was leading up to. “This class started off all scattered apart, no one really knowing how to fit in because everyone was too different. After only three months, we were able to happily dine last week, united.” 

An indifferent shrug came from the other. “It was thanks to everyone else for overcoming their differences.”

This again. Laura remembered Rean said something of the like when they had returned from Bareahard. At the time, it sounded like he was dodging the credit out of embarrassment. Here, he was trying to pretend that he didn’t contribute to fixing the shattered links in the class.

She would have to correct that misconception. 

Calmly sighing, her eyes softened. “You helped bring this class together, Rean. You played a role in getting us to accept a place for each other in this class. You are part of this place, especially since you helped build it.” 

She took a step forward, wanting to place a hand on his shoulder to achieve some sort of additional emotional effect, but he leaned away. 

Unbothered, her gentle voice continued. “As someone who once thought I would never befriend Fie or Machias, I would say that you accomplished quite a miracle.”

“I…” For a moment, she thought a phantom smile twitched upon his mouth, but his face continued to be neutral. Shaking his head, he fixed his sentence, “It doesn't mean anything now though, I won’t do anything like that anymore.”

…?

Suddenly, his hand was moving up to his side, resting on the hilt of his tachi. His neutral tone turned into something condescending as he breathed out, “Laura, your whole schtick is to grow stronger until you can surpass your father while using your current strength to protect the people you care about, right?”

That pulled a frown out of her. She didn't like how he summarized her main goal and principle in such a lackadaisical manner. It was said so simply and plainly, as if it meant nothing. Even if she reminded herself that nothing Rean said at the moment should be taken at face value, she couldn’t stop herself from feeling offended.

“Rean, I don’t appre—”

chhk

She was silenced by the sound of a steel blade sliding out of a scabbard. Instinctively, she stepped back, staring down at the blade pointed at her.

He was actually raising his sword against her. 

And yet… She didn't feel threatened at all. It was a surprise, but she didn’t feel in danger.

“I told Machias that I wouldn’t hesitate to cut anyone down if they got in my way.” Somehow the death threat didn’t grab as much of Laura’s attention as his expression. His face still posed to be indifferent, yet she could see fire raging in his eyes, full of conflict and even… 

Trust? 

“If I ended up hurting you or any of them, would you still call me your friend?”

She ignored the question, instead latching onto the sense that there was something deeper going on between the mismatch of his words and his expression. The missing puzzle piece of Rean’s behavior was hidden there, her mind rushing to find the deeper meaning. Frustratingly, as seconds passed and silence encroached upon them, she only came up with blanks. 

“Laura,” he sighed, sounding slightly disappointed at her muteness. “The answer is obvious.”

No, it wasn't. If Rean was the instigator of violence against their friends, she would certainly defend the others from him. However, that didn't mean she could just give up on him. Not without answers. 

Not without understanding.

“I do not see how wanting to help you will get in your way. Regardless, however…” Staring back with an equally steel, determined gaze, she declared, “I won’t let you hurt anyone.”

There it was. A red gleam. 

She had noticed this a few times now, but she always thought it was a simple trick of the lighting. Now though, facing him, the crimson glow was obvious, especially when it slightly reflected off the surrounding fog. 

His eye colors seemed to be capable of changing spontaneously. But then, what did that mean?

In a gruff murmur, he said, “Prove it.” His sword lowered to point at her right hand. “In a fight.”

“You mean… like a duel?” 

Given his track record in fighting herself and the nobles, the notion of Rean requesting such a thing sounded absurd.

Rean silently nodded, slowly and carefully moving his arms to sheath his sword. He then broke eye contact by turning his head, chin shyly ducking down. The behavior was so reminiscent of the shyness and vulnerability he showed back at Bareahard, it almost shocked Laura to see this side of him when he had been indifferent this past week. 

Did he intend for his facade to break at this moment?

“If you can stop me, I'll… rethink everything I’ve been doing recently,” he muttered, sounding so honest and almost mute. It felt honest and… something else. 

Laura couldn’t stop herself from owlishly blinking at him, not quite believing what he was saying. She would never expect that Rean would surrender his recent behavior via a fight, yet he was making it clear that he would accept such a simple method and, of all people to choose to fight with, he chose her.  

Unfortunately, she was still hopelessly blind to the deeper meaning of everything. Her only hope was to have faith in her strength.

“Stop you…?”

He nodded, letting out another long exhale of air through his mouth. 

“Stop me.”

---

Rean wordlessly led her to their future arena, which ended up being a ten minute walk into the highway. She wondered if he initially planned this, hence why he had their conversation in front of Class VII’s dormitory which was near the highway. 

While there were surprisingly no active monsters around, the environment was still not suited for a typical duel. The wet ground from the fog’s condensation meant she would have to be careful where she stepped. The fog also limited visibility, but it shouldn’t be an issue for close-combat. Thankfully, she was used to these conditions from training in the highways of Legram, which were often filled with fog, but she couldn’t be too careful.

Especially since Rean implied he wasn’t going to hold back in this fight. He was already fairly strong from what she had already seen from him. To have more would prove to be much more difficult than a challenge for her. 

Regardless, Laura was determined. If her winning this fight would result in the positive change the class had been waiting for, then so be it; she would push past her limits if she needed to. 

(Not to mention, she could never resist an opportunity to test her strength). 

“Adamantine Shield?” she asked, remembering how he was so insistent to cast this art the last time they fought. Once she received a nod, she let the earthen art wash over them, granting them the perfect protection from one attack. She then pocketed her ARCUS, not bothering to recharge it. With a fight like this, and with an opponent as fast as Rean, Laura would never be given a chance to cast anything.

“Alright, there’s no turning back now” Rean muttered, sounding like he was talking more to himself than her. He then walked at least a dozen arge away from her before turning to face her. With his sword unsheathed, he called out, “On the count of three.”

Laura nodded, getting her sword ready. “Three.”

“Two.” Rean’s stance changed, turning into one she recognized.

 

One.

 

CLANG

Their blades already met at the very moment they counted to zero in their heads. As expected, Rean would make the first move, considering their speed difference and the predictability of his stance. Unexpectedly, however…

Using her sheer strength, she pushed Rean’s sword back considerably, causing him to leap back in caution.

“You’re still holding back!” Just that one strike allowed her to read the hesitance behind his force. It was exactly like their first duel. “Is this what you want? To stop you while you're holding back? What will that prove?”

She didn’t expect him to respond with a snarl from such a simple taunt. 

Almost immediately, his posture changed into something more tense and wild. She only barely registered hearing the squelch of muddy dirt before their blades clashed once more, sending up sparks in the air.

He was faster, Laura noted as the tachi’s blade slid off of hers and immediately retaliated with another strike. More notably, however, was his strength. Her heels were quite literally digging against the ground as she warded off his attacks.

If she had to say, she’d guess there was about a quarter difference between these attacks and his first one, and she had a feeling that wasn’t all he had to offer. It could match hers, especially if she remained on the defensive and could never get in a full swing. 

Thankfully, her strength was endurance; she could keep her strength steady throughout the entirety of each clash. Meanwhile, Rean’s power waxed on impact and waned the longer their blades were locked with each other, hence why he often needed to renew his power with another strike. If she could just—

There!

Gritting her teeth, she trudged one step forward, chasing his blade before it could leave her steel bite. She managed to have swords deadlocked, and Rean must’ve noticed her plan because he immediately tried to shift into a defensive stance.

She wouldn’t let him.

“Ha!”

Kicking her feet hard against the ground, she gained enough force to overpower her opponent and even managed to unbalance him. By some stroke of luck, his foot also slipped on mud, toppling over to the ground. Laura didn’t waste this chance to bring a heavy swing forward—

S H A T T E R

Her eyes widened, seeing not only Rean’s shield break, but also her own. Rean apparently managed to land a hit on her at the same time, without her noticing.

A tie. Did that mean they would have to restart—

SCHWING

Laura barely shifted her sword to block the sudden attack, listening to the ringing metal reverberating through the area.

Wasn’t the fight over?  “Rean, wai—”

Sharp, blazing red eyes silently stared back at her, unrelenting with the next strike he harshly slammed against her greatsword. His message was clear.

Stop me.

This was what he meant. The true battle began now.

SLASH

She didn’t know how much time passed when she could no longer keep track of the number of times their swords had exchanged blows. All she knew was that she was constantly blocking, being left little chances to counter. It didn’t help that she felt as though Rean was getting faster or stronger, while she felt herself grow weaker.

Frustrating.  

The only thing she had going for her was Rean’s weakening technique; his swings were growing much less refined in favor of this more frenzied approach, leaving him vulnerable to multiple openings. While yes, he did compensate for this weakness with his growing speed and the recoil inflicted upon her from his growing strength, but she would simply have to adapt.

She only—

Horizontal slice at 3.

—Had to—

Diagonal from 10.

—Wait—

Step back.

—For the right—

Stance for Autumn Leaf Cutter.

—Time!

SHLING

She heavily exhaled, wincing from the pain of several cuts that nicked her arms and chest. Blood trailed down from each wound, but none were too deep. The outcome wasn’t the worst it could be, and the sacrifice was worth what she achieved.

Turning around, Laura eyed the modest amount of blood dripping down Rean’s left arm. The pain of drawing blood from a friend was worse than the pain from her injuries, but she was going to stop him no matter what. Even if Rean wanted to continue to fight, the injury on his arm would weaken his next onslaught.

She would make him keep his word for her win.

Rean’s hair shadowed his eyes as he slowly turned around to face her. He assumed yet another offensive stance, ready to dash forward at her like before, but… He was holding his sword with only one hand, letting his injured arm simply hang limply by his side.

A reckless decision.

His tachi was fairly large and needed two hands to maintain control and stability of the weapon. To use only one, well… Laura would find it easier to knock his blade out of his hands. She wouldn’t even need to defend if he was going to act so recklessly. 

Only one more strike was necessar—

..!

His pose had changed. Rean’s injured arm spread out in front of him as he held his sword behind him. Clearly, the intent was to keep his balance with his upcoming slash, but this left him completely vulnerable! Laura couldn’t attack him without the risk of seriously injuring him!

At the last second, she opted to defend herself. If this was his usual attack, she probably wouldn’t have been able to block in time. This move however, was much slower than his previous moves, building up a couple more seconds of tension before his sword sliced through the air.

CLANG

Truly, a reckless move.

But, it wasn't a wild attack.

The movements, the timing, the grace— Every sword style had a unique signature. Rean didn't charge in with only one hand on his sword out of desperation to get another hit in, it was simply a different technique with a one-handed sword style.

And it was definitely not something that belonged in the Eight Leaves One Blade school.

She couldn’t even afford to be distracted by how that technique looked oddly familiar to something else related to the military when the sheer unexpectedness and force managed to knock her back and topple her down to the wet ground. 

Not good at all.

She struggled to recover from the fall, legs and nondominant hand pushing against the ground to try to support her back up. She was aware Rean was stepping toward her, two hands now firmly holding the sword in front of him and—

HISS

Amber eyes widened. A scarlet light surrounded by a wispy blackness began to slither on his sword until it suddenly burst in size like it ignited itself into a billowing fire. Ignoring how it should’ve already been mentally impossible for Rean to hold a sword swallowed in something akin to flames without a flinch, Laura almost believed the fog was deceiving her. 

The colors were all wrong. The fringes of his raven hair were inverting as crimson eyes frigidly glared down at her. Meanwhile, the otherworldly energy surrounding his blade seemed to steal heat, sending chills up every muscle in her body. 

It felt all wrong. 

Somewhere along the fight, it was almost as if she had fallen into another dimension and was now facing a demon.

Once again, he removed his left hand from the hilt as he drew his sword back behind him, preparing another swing.

Jaw clenched, she held her greatsword out to shield her, hoping she could take the hit in this unfavorable position. 

Stop me.

She messed up.

CLANG

Just as the blazing tachi arched towards her, a flash of white landed between the two sword-practitioners, using a familiar pair of gunblades to intercept the attack.

“Fie?!”

A barely imperceptible nod came from the girl just before Rean’s strength overpowered her, launching her backwards into the air. A small grunt escaped Fie’s throat as she spun in the air and landed deftly behind Laura. 

Crimson energy from Rean’s sword seemed to pulse into the area from the end of his swing, but that only signaled the swift transition into his next attack. Already, he was swinging his arm back to make another horizontal slice at them.

“Gaius!” Fie yelled, and suddenly Laura felt her ARCUS resonate with their Nordian friend.

CLASH

Strong winds blew outwards from where a spear tried to catch a sword. Just in time, Gaius had managed to cover her, though it wouldn’t be for long. She could see Gaius’ arms shake from trying to keep Rean’s sword at bay.

Rean hissed, and suddenly the abnormal flames pulsed again, growing slightly larger. He seemingly drew more strength from that, his blade forcefully breaking through the deadlock Gaius had caught him in. The spearman stumbled backwards and almost fell, unbalanced from the sheer power of the attack.

The abnormal fire pulsed once again, expanding and completely consuming the blade of Rean’s sword as his arm greatly flexed to send one more strike. 

“Obsidian Blaze,” an ominous mockery of Rean’s voice muttered, just as he released the tension in his arm and let it swing with an unstoppable force, a conflagration of black and red already starting to burn them without touching them.

An instinctive lurch in her gut told her the damage wasn't going to be pretty, but she dauntlessly braced for it anyway.

Laura only barely managed to get back to her feet and used her sword as a shield, just as the tachi whistled and burned through the air.

Just endure—!

"Holy shield, protect us!"

Jusis' desperate order rang through her ears at once, an impenetrable shield immediately building up around her before being mercilessly carved away by a fiery slash.

S H A T T E R

Piercing hot pain blossomed on her sides, the searing flames streaming around her blade and destroying everything else down in its path. 

At once, her vision suddenly started to blacken, despite how her mind was crystal clear. The only grasp she had on her surroundings was quickly becoming limited to the smell of smoke and burnt grass, as well as the sounds of—

  S H A T T E R  

  S H A T T E R  

  S H A T T E R  

The shields on Fie, Gaius and Jusis must have broken if that attack filled a good portion of the area. At least that meant they were not harmed by the flames.

Still… How powerful. To be able to release three powerful slashes in rapid succession while breaking through most of the defenses of four people? Not to mention this mysterious fire that burned and also seemed to blind her…

This was what he was holding back? Was there possibly more?

There was no way she could handle more, much to her teeth-grinding frustration. Her honor also wouldn’t allow this fight to continue after receiving the help of three of their classmates.

Her loss. 

“I… yield,” she gritted out.

She couldn’t stop him.

At that moment, a wave of refreshment washed over her, causing her burns to fade and her vision to be restored. One of the others must’ve cast Breath on her, but she couldn’t even think to thank them when her attention was stolen by the expression of the victor.

Back to their normal lilac color, trembling, pinprick eyes stared back at her, as if he was watching a nightmare, before being shadowed by the bangs of his hair. His lips pulled into a deeper frown, muttering:

“You’re not strong enough…”

It was like he didn’t realize he spoke his thoughts out because the words were so quiet, but the statement was deafening to Laura’s ears. Her heart sank in shock, trying to delay the pain of hearing her pride be tarnished while dealing with how Rean sounded so utterly disappointed.

No way. She couldn't let it end like this.

His sword clicked back into its sheath when she began to reach out to him. She was only vaguely aware of the three classmates behind her, full of confusion but wisely decided to keep silent. “Rean—”

“No.” He flinched away from her, yet his stoney expression allowed no emotion to escape. "You're hurt," he hissed. "You failed."

More disappointment leaked from his voice, but with a hint of hurt. As if all the damage he had inflicted in the battle was coming back to himself. As if he felt betrayed that Laura couldn't prove herself.

“If you can stop me, I'll… rethink everything I’ve been doing recently."

Was it strange to think that the conversation before their fight had also sounded slightly hopeful?

That he had wanted her to win?

“Please, give me another chance,” she pleaded, throwing away her pride just this once. She couldn’t let him close all the way up again after this. “I just need to train more.”

"Laura—"

"I will grow stronger.” 

Please. Just another chance.

“L—”

“And then, I will help—”

He abruptly tightly snatched her wrist in the air, keeping her from getting any closer.

“Just give it up, Lianne!” he suddenly yelled in frustration. His mouth was set in a full-blown scowl. One of his eyes peeked through his bangs, showing a lilac whirlwind of bitterness, hatred, and emotions she couldn’t place. 

Not like she had the mental capacity to decipher such hidden emotions when she realized he had called her the wrong name. 

Lianne…

“You just saw what I’m capable of.” He spat, pointing at the healing burns on her arms and the flaming devastation inflicted on the environment. "You would be smart to stay away from me, or I will seriously place you in danger, regardless of whether or not you think we’re friends.”

Danger..?

“Let’s say, hypothetically, you’re in danger…”

“...What would you expect Rean to do?”

..!

It all clicked.

That hadn’t been a trick question from Crow, nor was it meant to be vague.   

She had thought the answer would be different from what was expected because he was so unpredictable… but it turned out that this was one part of him that remained the same as ever.

 

Rean dropped her arm from his grip before he turned around, walking in the direction of Trista.

(If she was in danger, then he would provide his protection, as expected).

Stunned, Laura watched his figure vanish within the deep fog. 

 

(Even if he was the danger…)

 

This appeared to be the core of Rean’s issue. She should’ve been relieved to finally discover that, but…

He also just demonstrated that Class VII wouldn't be able to provide a solution. 

“Laura!”

She dropped to her feet, completely exhausted without the adrenaline to keep her up. Her friends hovered around her, checking for any other injuries while probing her with intensely inquisitive stares.

“Everyone,” she sighed, releasing a long, deep breath. "Call an urgent class meeting.”

Notes:

Things totally won’t get worse from here on out ._.

Fight scenes, when I write them, are always interesting because I feel like I lack too much of a vocabulary and imagery to get the readers to understand what the heck is actually going on lol. Oh well, onomatopoeia is free real estate now~

P.S. The last attack Rean did with the ebon flames was “Obsidian Blaze,” one of Osborne’s crafts. Apparently the user manifests ebon flames on his sword with two hands and then follows up with three one-handed sword strikes. At the end of his third hit, the flames disperse into the area in front of him, burning/blinding its victims. Papa Osborne would be proud. (McBurn too, lmao)

And one last thing I want to say is… Wow, it’s been one year since I published this thing. Gotta be honest, I never expected to keep going for this long, or write 200k+ words (for goodness sake, I’m not even halfway through CS1 yet). It’s surreal. Like seriously, wow.

—-

To be continued in "Chapter 21 - When a Shadow Ignites a Flame"
In which Sara owes Thomas a drink, Emma catches a couple of curfew breakers, and Alisa tries to not have an existential crisis.

Chapter 21: When a Shadow Ignites a Flame

Notes:

Lol because I skipped April, here's another May chapter!

NOTE: Sara’s POV starts on the night of Rean and Elliot’s duel with the nobles, then jumps around which will be specified in the writing. Emma’s POV starts directly after Laura’s fight with Rean.

“Permission to move out of the dorms?”

Sara paused, her wrist smoothly swinging her bottle of beer away from her mouth as her amber eyes flicked up to see the student at her door. 

Rean. Such a fact was obvious from the voice, but she has to wonder if she time-traveled or something. His tone was a little too restricted and his posture seemed eternally guarded. It reminded her of how he was at the beginning of school, when he pretended to be nobody. 

Carefully keeping her sloppy grin in place, she tilted her head in confusion and elegantly asked from her bed, “Wha?”

Rean’s gaze was pointed at the floor, slightly grimacing as he repeated, “I heard we could temporarily move out of the dormitory because of concerns about the ghost. I want to take that offer.”

A long, thoughtful hum fell from her lips as she watched her student slowly meet her stare in nervous anticipation. It was quite a different act compared to the masked indifference he had tried to maintain in class today.

It was… extremely odd. Concerning, even. 

Sara wasn’t dumb. She knew when her students were acting strange. She knew something was up with Rean ever since she reunited with the Nord Highland’s field study group just before their departure back to Trista. 

The only reason she didn’t think much of it until now was because one, he was having drama with Alisa. Two, Sara was kinda preoccupied with how she and Sharon—of all people—managed to spy on a conversation between an unnamed terrorist group and a Dominion.

(That had been quite the show; good on that S woman for ditching before things probably got messy.)

“Why?” she asked, still keeping her carefree tone as she capped her bottle and lazily dropped it next to her on the bed. “You scared of a little ghost?”

“Yes, I’m uncomfortable with it… My sleep has been worse because of it.” If anything, at least those heavy eye-bags were a point in his favor. “That’s why I want to move out.”

“Alright, I’ll let you move out. On one condition though…” Her satisfied grin never dimmed even as her eyes closed in false delight. “You gotta tell me your real reason for leaving.”

Oh please, give her more credit than that. Like hell she would believe the guy—who'd recklessly thrown himself into the face of danger several times—was more scared of ghosts than Millium to the point where he had to leave.

His posture stiffened even more, just for a fraction of a second. Without glancing around, Rean took a step into her room and gently closed the door behind him. Letting a few more seconds of silence fill between them, he eventually exhaled.

“I don’t want to be around Class VII any longer than necessary.”

Instinctively, Sara’s first response would be to tell him to man up and deal with it as a joke, especially if this discomfort was simply related to whatever drama he had with Alisa. Wisely, however, she kept her teasing mouth shut.

This was an opportunity, and she could not ruin it by continuing to act like an irresponsible instructor. The fact that Rean was asking her permission and showing a different side to himself meant she was in a position to dig out more information from him than any of his classmates. Any wrong step and he’d walk away. 

“They’re bothering you?” she mused out loud, even though they both knew it wasn’t true. “Or maybe… Someone’s forcing you to keep your distance?”

Ever since the second field study, Sara had been hellbent on looking for the connection between Rean and Ouroboros. She sure as hell wasn’t about to stop now, especially since his behavior was shifting. Either that meant his initial goal was over or he’d been given new orders and thus, had a different role to play. 

Unexpectedly, Rean’s eyes suddenly steeled, finally returning her level gaze. It was like he had finally resolved himself to something, and gone was the vulnerability he had given her glimpses to. 

“Only myself.”

Damnit. She couldn’t decipher whether that was a lie or not.

“Well then, I guess that’s that.” The disappointment in her voice was hidden. “I guess I'll talk to Vandyke about it, alright?”

His head politely bowed down. “Thank you, Instructor Sara,” he said as he opened the door. “Have a good night then.”

She wanted to stop him and press for more answers, but she knew better than to push when she could sense that she hit the kid’s limit. Instead, she just waved at him, despite how he wouldn’t see the gesture.

“You too.”

Sharply watching him leave through the closing door, she was unable to ignore the rising feeling of discomfort sitting on her gut.

---

Since then, she watched an interesting shift in the class dynamics. The kids used to crowd around Rean’s desk and just discuss school or life for a few minutes, before leaving to go to their respective clubs or whatnot. Almost always, Rean was the last to leave. 

Now however, her most wayward student was always the first to leave, while the rest of the class stayed behind, crowding around whoever seemed to have new information. They would talk and talk until their leads ran into dead ends. Somehow, this also led them to being super attentive to each other’s needs, always ready to give support when someone was on the edge of exhaustion or emotional breakdown. 

Oh, and the stuff about the nasty rumors and consequent harassment against Class VII? That only made her kids more protective of each other. Just one wrong look at them earned you several glares that promised very not nice things to happen. Heck, Sara was sure she caught a glimpse of a cold, dark, murderous smile from Elliot of all people! Even she got chills up her spine from seeing that!

And yeah, this didn’t help with the issue of the other students purposely avoiding Class VII, but at least it stopped any of the more jealous nobles from thinking about more harassment. At this rate though, if one of them was cruelly snatched away for whatever reason, Sara was sure terrorism would be the least of Erebonia’s problems. 

Anyway, the whole development of the class was surprising, even to someone who kept joking about the “Power of Friendship.” It was impressive, even. It wasn’t like these kids were shedding their blood, sweat, and tears every day together to forge such a bond already.

(...Or maybe they were. This school and this particular class was intense. If Sara was a student here, she’d probably cry a bunch, honestly). 

So then, it was pretty much a shock when Fie—of all people—approached her. Now, it wasn't like their relationship was anything bad, it was just that Fie usually gave no craps about anything, and she usually didn’t like to rely on the carefree-lady-who-can’t-compare-to-Zephyr-and-forced-her-into-a-dumb-school

Really… Olivier would probably be ecstatic if he heard of these developments. 

First things first though, Sara was going to have to deal with the implications of these mysterious letters Fie found in Rean’s room.

Old Schoolhouse.

~ G

---

Alas, what the boy truly yearns for but believes that he will never achieve…

Is to be himself.

Oh boy. Sara had her work cut out for her. Bleublanc’s writing was clearly a message to someone else, which meant that this guy—a.k.a an Enforcer of Ouroboros—was keeping tabs on Rean. What for, she had no clue, but at least she could conclude that Rean wasn’t some high ranking member. Surely an Enforcer—or, Goddess-forbid, an Anguis—would not need to be monitored by another Enforcer.

Wait, actually, she was assuming this was a recent message. What if this was written years ago?

You know what. Nevermind. Sara wasn’t going to think about that. Riddles were never her strong suit. No point running her head in circles around something so vague. Especially something from Bleublanc of all people.

G’s message was also pretty much a dead end. There was too little known about that unnamed terrorist group. Too little was known about Rean to even think of why he would be connected to such a group, unless there was some connection between the terrorist and Ouroboros—

Okay, she did not want to think about that possibility right now.

Anyway, Sara wasn’t going to completely jump to conclusions. Any cunning individual would not put their whole name on a paper about some secret meeting. This could be another person whose name starts with G, or at least some person Rean would recognize just with this initial and this handwriting. 

Regardless, there was frustratingly little Sara could do about it other than two things, both of which involved a confrontation.

Which was what she did.

“What do you know about these?” Sara slipped past the kitchen doors without so much as a noise. When she walked up beside the resident maid, she ditched her stealthy maneuvers in favor of brute force, loudly slamming the two letters on the counter.

While washing the dishes at the sink, Sharon’s eyes deftly scanned the papers. Then, she turned to face the ex-bracer, head tilting in false innocent confusion. “My apologies, but I don’t know anything about these, Lady Sara.”

Sara scoffed, twisting her body so that she leaned against the counter. With crossed arms against her chest, she sent an impatient glare at the other woman. 

Their first conversation had been full of Sara trying to get her to confess to her ties with Ouroboros, only to earn giggles and statements of how Sharon was only the Reinford family’s maid, nothing more and nothing less. Despite the amount of time she had wasted on that conversation, Sara at least learned that digging up any information related to the secret society was futile, so she had to try a slightly different approach.

“Cut the crap. I know you’re awfully skilled because of your background—which shall not be named—so you should know about every single person who’s stepped foot into this building. So, I will ask you only one simple question: Who put these in Rean’s room?”

Because it sure as hell wasn’t Rean, nor was it any of the other kids in the building. 

There was that amused giggle again. “Oh my, Lady Sara, I can only assure you that, besides the people connected to Thors, only a cat and a ghost have been inside this building. As for what happens inside of each room, well, not even I know exactly everything.”

“You’re not denying that you know. Who planted these papers in Rean’s room?” Sara repeated, unwavering in her determination to get at least something out from this maid. 

“Why do you think I know?”

Because one of these letters was connected to Ouroboros. Who else here other than Rean would know— wait.

Sharon was also…

How did she overlook something so obvious?

“Are you the one responsible for leaving these letters around?!” Sara could barely maintain her composure, internally groaning for not thinking about this sooner. It wasn't completely her fault though, this whole game had Bleublanc's classic signature on it!

“Oh my, why do you sound like I’ve committed a crime?” Confirming Sara’s suspicions, Sharon covered her obvious smile with a wrist. “I have simply been reusing papers I find in the trash and turning them into art. What is so wrong about that?”

“So this letter…” Sara incredulously pointed to the paper from Bleublanc as she raised a nonplussed eyebrow at the maid. “You just happened to dive that out of Class VII’s trash?”

“Oh, that one? I think I may have found that from a different trash source.”

“And you just… decided to fold it up into a horse and put it in Rean’s room.”

“That is correct, Lady Sara.”

…Sara’s trigger finger was itching. At this point, she was honestly not expecting a useful answer. Still, with the most exasperation she could muster up, she asked, “Why?”

Sharon closed the sink’s faucet, having finished washing all the dishes throughout their conversation. Turning away from the instructor, she faced the bleak windows; not much light had been shining through them because of the fog. 

“I myself know little of the details.” Her usual cheery tone was subdued. “I only know that two of my old acquaintances have asked me for a favor. What you have found is a result of my favor, though I would like to reassure you that there are no bad intentions. If anything, these are simply little tests and hints.”

Sara’s eyes narrowed. Tests and hints? "For who, Class VII?"

“Perhaps.”

Oh dammit. Not the vague responses again. 

“I must say congratulations though, Lady Sara, for figuring out I was the one who folded up the papers.” Sharon’s right hand moved to dig something out from her dress pocket, revealing a white, folded piece of paper. “I was told to give you this as a reward. I heard it's part two of one of the letters you’ve shown me.”

Oh, this was so very much like Bleublanc’s style. At this point, why was Sharon still bothering to pretend like she didn’t know the guy? 

Sighing, Sara grabbed it and scanned through the contents, breath stilling throughout her second reread.

Such a desire turns into such a tragedy, however, for someone like him. We tend to believe we are masters of our own fate, but I never witnessed anyone more strangled by the iron strings of fate than your boy. How can any shred of individuality survive when their destiny calls for its destruction?

Unless he finds the right person who can cut the rope, I foresee that there is no escaping the noose for him. No offense to you milady, but given how powerless even your hand in this is, I fear that the struggle is futile.

Ah, but I wonder… If such an empty struggle can be another kind of beauty.

~ The One and Only

“Like I said, I myself know little of the details,” Sharon eventually said, as if to remind Sara to not waste her breath in asking a bunch of questions that would never be answered.

“Why am I not surprised?” She pushed herself away from the counter as she folded the paper and neatly placed it inside her own coat pocket. The odd thing about Bleublanc was that, despite how riddled his messages were, there was always a spark of truth behind them. 

This too must've held truth, at least in his perspective. 

Which sucked because the message itself was damning. It was essentially: There is a plan for Rean and you can’t do anything about it.

Sara couldn’t stop her gut from tightening. She was a staunch believer in being able to carve one’s own path instead of all that destiny bullcrap. The thought of someone else puppeteering the lives of anyone she cared about… it left a bitter taste in her mouth.

So naturally, Sara wouldn’t just roll over and let it happen without a fight. She had watched Rean grow so much these past three months, despite how much he pretended it was fake. She didn't want all that to be undone.

The other thing that stood out in this letter though was how it was addressed to “milady.” Obviously, he wasn’t talking about Sara.

Damn, now she really was going to have her work cut out for her now. Maybe she should consult a couple of friends. Surely Toval had enough free time to take a crack at interpreting this. Or maybe she should find a chance to swing by Crossbell since Estelle and Joshua were there and they were practically experts at this sort of thi—

Actually. Wait. How could she forget?! Was Joshua a former Enforcer? Didn’t they also adopt Renne recently, another former Enforcer? She could've contacted them ages ago instead of dancing around this tight-lipped maid for information!

Oh, her sweet connections! This was why she loved being a bracer~

Well, she knew what she was going to do when she got more time off.

She was already walking toward the doors when she passively waved at her companion. “Thanks Sharon, this was actually kind of a useful conversation.”

With a polite bow, Sharon smiled.

“It was my pleasure, Lady Sara.”

---

Sara didn’t waste any time in delaying confrontation #2 after her talk with Sharon. She already knew her target would be as or more uncooperative than the maid, but it wouldn’t hurt to try. Probably.

In the midst of the swirling, thick fog, she found Rean peacefully walking back to the Noble Dormitory, looking as disinterested in his surroundings as what had been usual for a week now. True to her nature, she would disturb the peace by moving to stand in his path. 

“You’re not in trouble or anything,” Sara started, noting the eyebags the kid still sported on his face since last week. With the letters in her hands, she held them in front of his face. “Is there any chance you happen to know what these two letters mean?”

Unlike Sharon, a spark of recognition managed to flitter throughout those lilacs, even as his eyebrows furrowed in confusion. Good to have more proof that these letters weren’t fraud. 

Scanning the area for any eavesdroppers and finding none, Sara added with a low, unaccusing voice, “Terrorist or Ouroboros?” 

Unexpectedly, Rean snorted. Like he was amused.

“What would you do if I was either?”

He wasn’t denying he was either, but he sounded way too comfortable for someone whose identity might have been exposed. Granted, there were a bunch of wackos in Ouroboros who didn’t give a crap about revealing their affiliation—except people like Sharon—but shouldn’t Rean feel threatened? There was a reason he was in Thors; revealing an active affiliation with either of these shady groups could chase him out.

Did that mean his purpose here really was accomplished, or that he thought the question was a joke because of how inaccurate it was?

“Like I said before,” Sara’s tone was confident and resolute as her stern gaze rested on the teen. “I refuse to leave any of my students behind.”

The last time she had said something like this to him, his lilac eyes had snapped to her, wide with disbelief. This time, however, he slowly shut his passive gaze closed and took a deep breath.

“I'm realizing that.”

He sounded resigned. And final.

Sara could only watch in suspicion as Rean wordlessly walked past her, ignoring any of the other burning questions that were slipping out of her tongue.

---

“He punched me!”

The next day started not-so-peacefully, with Sara being called to the Vandyke’s office the moment she stepped on campus. While Vandyke sat at his fancy desk, Sara stood with Neithardt as they listened to the complaint that started this mess.

“This morning I was just minding my own business,” the kid—Henzel or something—frustratedly explained, sporting a black and blue bruise on his cheek. “And then Schwarzer comes out of nowhere and picks a fight with me!”

It seemed like Rean had spent the last week perfecting his I-couldn’t-care-less mask because Sara could not spot a single crack. He really did not look like he gave a crap about Henzel’s accusation. 

Not like Sara did either, given what she was witnessing right now. Seriously, what did Rean do to get this kid to hate him so much to resort to such shallow tricks? 

“Right…” Even Neithardt couldn’t completely take this seriously. Turning towards Rean, he asked, “What do you have to say about that, Schwarzer?”

Rean carefully eyed the ‘injury’ on the noble’s face, before turning to look back at Neithardt. 

“Sure,” was his stoic response.

Oh, you gotta be kidding— Was Rean intentionally trying to make this process longer?!

“See!” Henzel’s index finger was pointed at Rean while he stood triumphantly. “The heathen even admits to it! Suspend him!”

Sara sighed before giving the noble a look that told him to sit back down. “Okay, that’s enough, kid. All of us here can see that your ‘bruise’ is just make-up, so you can stop wasting your breath.”

“Henzel…” Neithardt sounded disappointed and tired. “As you know, physical assault is not tolerated in this school and would give the offender suspension. Likewise, falsely accusing another student of such a thing is not to go without punishment.”

“Okay fine, but he’s going to hit me in the future!” Henzel scowled, unfazed by the threat or the direction this conversation was leading to. He was surprisingly so calm about it that Sara briefly wondered if this was part of the plan or he just wanted to waste their time. “I’m simply ridding this place of him before he can do any harm!”

Groaning, Sara turned to face Rean to confirm that the argument was senseless so they could all move on with their day. 

“Rean, do you think you’re going to hit this guy in the future?”

Said student passively shrugged. “Maybe.”

Oh Aidios, it was like he was trying to get suspended or something. Neither of these two could be taken seriously!

“See—”

“Enough!” Vandyke’s authoritative voice boomed through the room, speaking for the first time since this meeting started. Staring down at the two students, he continued, “Thors Military Academy only punishes actions of the present, not the future. So, Henzel, your request is denied. As for you, Schwarzer, you ought to be more active in defending yourself from a false accusation.”

Henzel stiffly shrinked back into his chair while Rean slowly nodded.

A heavy sigh escaped the principal. “There’s nothing more to add to this discussion then. Neithardt, I trust you with Henzel’s punishment. Everyone’s dismissed!” 

Well, that was a complete waste of time. Sara would’ve even preferred to be in homeroom, teaching—

“Except you, Schwarzer.” Vandyke’s additional announcement stopped Sara in her tracks, boot halfway out the door. “I have something I want to talk to you about.”

Rean himself looked surprised, the first emotion he’d shown all day. Sara could relate, she had absolutely no clue what Vandyke would want to talk privately with him about.

“Should I stay since I’m his homeroom instructor?” she asked, hoping to get in on whatever this conversation was.

“It’s a private conversation, Valestein.”

Damnit. That made her even more curious.

Closing the door behind her, she barely caught how Neithardt ordered Henzel to get his ass to class. The man then turned to face her, all arms crossed against his chest and expectant. She had no idea what he wanted because she couldn’t read his mind, so she just offered her own frown and comment.

“You should put a leash on that kid,” she gestured to Henzel who vanished around the corner. “My students have been complaining about him all the time.”

“I’m on it, he just needs more guidance than the rest. Henzel is just one of the more difficult ones to crack…” Neithardt muttered, though a twinge of hope was heard in his tone. “But anyway, you still haven’t gotten a handle on Schwarzer?”

If there was one thing they shared in common, it was the tendency to worry about students without outwardly showing it.

Shrugging, she said, “Nope. He’s still not budging on whatever philosophy he's following now. Can't really do much about it if he's not breaking any rules, and Heinrich already dished out the punishment for whenever he caught Rean sneaking out at night."

Not like those punishments were anything terrible. Crow had been caught breaking curfew a couple times too, but he was still fine (besides his already terrible grades).

"If only I could talk to his parents… Maybe they could smack some sense into him.” Or maybe not. Sara wasn’t exactly too sure how close Rean was to his adoptive parents, especially if he was doing shady stuff behind their backs. "Too bad he's technically an adult, so the school only holds him individually responsible for his actions." 

Heinrich kept nagging her over and over again that it was not within the range of an instructor's duty to speak with a student's guardians if said student was too old. It was so annoying. 

(Oh what she would give to be a bracer again, where she would usually dig up loopholes and act through those.)

"Aw, that is indeed a shame, Sara!" 

Both Neithardt and Sara jumped at the sudden, unexpected voice of their outlandish co-worker. 

"If only there was some kind of loophole you could exploit!"

Huh?

"Thomas?!" Sara almost shrieked, having a terrifying flashback of the last time this guy popped out of nowhere and forced her into a deadly conversation over drinks. Surprisingly, despite how… whimsical… he could be, he could be a freaking ninja sometimes. "Don't you have class to teach?!"

Thomas grinned at her, completely oblivious to how his fellow instructors slightly backed away from him, another rare thing Sara shared in common with Neithardt. "Oh, I gave them a self-study period!"

"You're not supposed to give the students self-study periods whenever you feel like it," Neithardt admonished him, though he was lacking his usual intimidation in place of cautiousness.

Thomas dramatically gasped, like he was being misunderstood. "But how could I teach at my maximum capacity when I felt bothered by the announcement of you two and a couple of students having to go to the principal's office? I was fretting with so much worry, that I deemed it more efficient for my students to study by themselves while I go check up on you all!" His eyes, behind those dumb spiral, circle framed glasses, scanned them over. "Oh, it looks like you're both fine."

Neithardt couldn't stop himself from running a hand down his face. "If students are involved, then neither of us would be in trouble, you know."

"Ah, but how could I also not fret over my favorite history student as well?"

"You're not supposed to declare favorites."

"Anyway." Ignoring Neithardt's comment, Thomas gleefully turned his attention to Sara. "I heard you're in a little predicament on how to deal with Rean and his seemingly spiraling behavior! Well, I have a solution!"

"...Huh?"

This man had the tendency to come up with strange ideas and solutions for generally anything, and Sara wasn't sure she wanted to be involved.

With a push of his glasses up his nose, Thomas explained, “What if, hypothetically, someone went there, not as a concerned teacher but as someone who's been requested to help?"

Her eyes narrowed as her heat rate picked up slightly.

…Was he implying what she thought he was implying..?

Neithardt pinched the bridge of his nose in utter exasperation. "You can't seriously be telling this woman to drop her instructor duties to play bracer."

"Just for one day!" he chirped. “I’ll even write the paper out, offer a reward, and keep a time limit!”

Wait-wait-wait— Seriously? Actually-seriously-really?

Sara didn't bother to hide her excitement as she shared Thomas' grin. "Are you so upset that your favorite history student isn't talking to you anymore that you'd suggest this?"

"Of course! Rean's being more standoffish than even our precious Knighty-Neit here! I can't just do nothing!"

'Knighty-Neit' looked like he regretted everything in life. "Don't call me that."

Meanwhile, Sara's knuckles were cracking. "Okay, I'm ready to pull out of retirement!"

“Hold on. You know it's not that easy, or else you would've ditched this place a long time ago.” The buzzkill of a man held his hand up, as if to stop her from booking it out of here. It unfortunately worked. “Leaving school unannounced is low, even for you. You have to report to Vandyke about it and hope he'll allow you. And, what about your other students?"

She casually waved him off. "I'll just go when school ends and hope no one needs me. The trip to Ymir is like, what, a 6-ish hour trip or something? Adding one hour of a talk with the parents, I should be gone for 13 hours at the minimum, so I'll be back before school starts tomorrow!"

"... You're assuming there are no delays. The weather there isn't always train friendly."

Oh, whatever!

Sara suddenly clasped her hands together, voice rising into a higher, more innocent pitch. "I'll pray to the Goddess that I have a smooth trip! And just for extra measures, how about you two pray for me as well?"

"Naturally!" Thomas gave her a thumbs up.

"And you, Knighty-Neit?"

The resulting glare was unflinching.

Sighing, she added, "I guess I'll talk to Vandyke just in case I get delayed or something…"

His blonde brow was curiously raised. "I'm honestly surprised you listened to me."

"It's for the kids! I don't need them crying if they get worried about the low chance that I'm absent!"

"Of course that's the reason…"

CLICK

Without warning, Vandyke's door opened. Rean stepped out, posture untelling of the conversation he just had, and suspiciously looked up at the three instructors.

"I'll go and work on the request then!" Thomas readily announced as he patted Sara on the shoulder. He then turned to look at the confused student. "Morning to you, Rean! How are you doing?"

"...Fine."

Unfazed by the lackluster response, Thomas reached out to also pat Rean on the shoulder and received an uncomfortable look from the student. "Well, it's good to see you all fine and dandy then! I guess I feel better enough to resume teaching my students! Bye~"

“I shall also return to my class,” Neithardt said, almost sending Sara a stern glare as he walked away.

Sara didn’t bother giving either of her co-workers a second glance as her gaze drifted back to her problem student. “So…” She nudged his arm with her elbow, wondering what kind of response she would get. Rean didn’t react at all. “Any chance you’re gonna spill any details about what Vandyke talked to you about?”

His eyes were purposely pointed to the floor, barely hiding from Sara the traces of conflict and uncertainty in his face. It had been a while since she last saw this side of him.

She couldn’t mistake this. It was like his resolve was… shaken.

Interesting. That little detail made her want to break down Vandyke’s door and ask for whatever magic trick he did to weaken her student's resolve. 

To her surprise then, Rean took a deep breath, a recent sign of his that implied he was actually going to reply. “Instructor Sara,” he started, voice still neutral with a faint shake. “Have you ever given up on someone you once cared about?”

“Eh?” Was this related to what he and Vandyke spoke about? Or was this something that had been on his mind for a while? “Uh, no, I don’t think so.”

The people close to her were either dead or making some really dumb life decisions right now. If a chance presented itself to save them, she would take it, but… That was far in the past. Sara wanted to focus on the future. 

“What’s with the question?” 

Instead, Rean only followed up with another question, mouth in a slight frown “What would make you give up on them?”

This was… ringing alarm bells in her head.

“I don’t like to think about it, so it’s hard to say,” she answered carefully, eyeing him suspiciously. “Especially if they’re acting like a complete idiot.”  

Frustratingly, Rean didn’t say anything else in response to her answer, instead choosing to turn away from her and walk toward the stairs. Sara followed after him, hoping he was getting the message that she thought he was an idiot who she wouldn't give up on.

---

After school officially ended for the day, Sara tried to book it out of the class— Only to be blocked by Fie and Millium. The majority of Class VII took that opportunity to bombard her with questions about what happened in the principal’s office, which she didn’t even have a satisfactory answer for. From what she had seen, everything was technically fine. 

After fifteen frustrating minutes passed of them just pestering her without getting any real answers, the door to their classroom opened, revealing Thomas. He announced that there was something he wanted to talk to Sara about alone, forcing the students to reluctantly back down. 

It turned out this was just an excuse to get her out of the class, and Sara gave him a high-five as she ran toward Vandyke’s office. The principal himself let no detail of his private conversation with Rean slip, but he surprisingly did allow Sara to go on her sudden trip to Ymir. In an event she was delayed in her return, he would make sure Heinrich was available to cover for her (which caused some protest from the vice principal). 

Anyway, that was the gist of her day before she stepped onto the train, gleefully holding onto a piece of paper Thomas had passed onto her.

Task: My Poor History Buddy

Client: Thomas

Rean’s been pretty sad recently, and I find myself no longer able to indulge in our passions for l’histoire together. It’s a great tragedy! I need help! Ahhhhhh.

Could you find a happy piece of his own history to possibly cheer him up?

—Thomas

The man was clearly overselling the fact that he needed help, it kinda made Sara cringe. But who cared, as long as it worked! It was also thankfully vague enough to allow her to check out Rean’s hometown and—more importantly—the Schwarzers. 

Man, she should’ve asked him to do this ages ago. 

And after this, she still had to get in contact with Cassius’ dysfunctional Ouroboros family. That could also prove to be another treasure trove of information.

Hehe. Looks like she finally caught a break. 

Sara couldn’t stop herself from cackling out loud, unbothered by the passengers around her staring with wary looks. She was really anticipating all the potential information she could finally dig up

Oh Rean, if everything goes well, you might be soooo screwed. Heh...

 

---

---

 

Emma once recalled reading somewhere in a book that a fire needs two things to be sustained: fuel and oxygen. To be sparked, fire needed heat.

She had seen this law play out multiple times: when Instructor Sara's lightning attacks caught some grass on fire and when their orbments generated heat which could transform into fire. Even Emma's own magic used mana and converted it into a heat and fuel source.

With everyone sitting around Class VII's dining room under the pretense of an urgent meeting, Laura described how she apparently got into a fight with Rean, and how her downfall was to some blackish-red flames he had conjured up. 

It was clearly not from his orbments, nor was it from any natural cause of fire.

By the end of the story, several chairs scratched against the floor as Machias, Alisa and Elliot stood up and looked across the table in shock. Fie, Jusis, and Gaius, the ones who had witnessed the end of the fight, were leaning forward in interest. Sitting besides Laura were Millium and Emma, the former wearing sparkly, curious eyes, while Emma ran her mind over the description of Rean’s mysterious power.

"Emma, do you think what Rean did was… witch-related?" 

Uh… 

Emma gulped, hands slightly fidgeting against her thighs. “I don’t think I’ve heard of any magic like that.”

But she was still very much a beginner. She knew there was a lot she didn't know.

“Then what could it be?” Laura asked, tilting her head in confusion. “I doubt it’s something a normal human can do.” She turned to face Fie, Jusis, and Gaius for affirmation. “Right?”

Both Fie and Jusis shook their heads. Gaius, on the other hand, replied, “Some humans are granted supernatural powers, carved into their souls. Apparently, those are called stigmas.” He then let out a low hum, as if pondering something. Eventually, he added, “But, I do not think this is the case for Rean.”

Many of their classmates looked at him in confusion, having never heard the term before. For Emma, however, a vague memory tickled the surface of her mind. That specific word had popped up a few times when Grandmother was complaining about the Septian Church. “Why do you think stigmas aren’t related to what’s going on with Rean?”

“The winds speak a different story.”

And that was just another way of him saying that he wouldn’t explain anything. It all made Emma slightly curious because, if she remembered correctly from Grandmother’s rants and her own curious research about the church, then the topic of stigmas weren’t supposed to be common knowledge. He also implied that he had experience with stigmas, or at least knew someone with a stigma. Or else there was no way he could outright deny a connection between stigmas and Rean. 

Emma would keep quiet about it though. This knowledge wasn’t a priority compared to everything else going on right now, and at least she didn’t hold any resentment against church-related stuff like her grandmother. 

“Rean could have used his mana to convert it into those flames,” she said instead, suggesting an alternative explanation. Humans didn’t typically know how to manipulate their own mana, but it was possible. 

“So Rean just knows how to use his mana then?” Millium concluded with a little uncertainty, her mind slightly struggling to keep up with the new concepts being tossed around in the discussion.

Emma shook her head. “Possibly, but I can’t know for sure unless I see it. Plus, if this is the case and Rean did convert his own mana into those flames, then…” Her eyebrows furrowed, not liking the direction her deductive reasoning was leading to. “Well, mana tends to be closely tied to one’s soul. If those otherworldly flames came from his mana, then that would suggest that his own soul is…”

Was it really possible..?

“Not from this world?” Alisa hesitantly guessed after the prolonged silence, mouth set in a trembling frown.  

Emma shook her head. “Not necessarily…”

“Not human.”

Looking at Gaius who answered, Emma hesitantly nodded. At this point, even if those flames weren’t created through mana, then, well, it would definitely not be the doing of a human. 

But, it still made no sense. Despite what happened at the last Old Schoolhouse investigation, Celine still firmly believed that Rean was the potential awakener. The potential awakener could only be human, so that either meant that Rean was partially human and still the potential awakener, or that their target was someone else entirely.

(Just another thing that made her brain jump through hoops.)

There was also the fact that Rean used to have panic attacks around fire. If he could always naturally make flames like that by himself… Then why did he panic around flames before? Why didn’t he panic when he was making fire during his battle with Laura?

“Rean’s not human..?” Elliot repeated in confusion, sounding quiet enough like he didn’t intend to say his thoughts out loud. 

“Well, that’s a surprise! But not really a surprise!” Millium chirped. “After all, not everyone in this class is completely human anyway. We have Emma, a witch, and we have me, a hummus! If Rean turns out to be a devil or something, then we can boast that we have even more diversity!”

Machias turned toward the youngest student, his gaping mouth reflecting the same flabbergasted spirit that Alisa and Jusis had. “You’re a what now?”

“I'm a hummus!”

Ignoring the confused outbursts that Millium had triggered out of several of their classmates, Elliot spoke up, a little more nervous with his speech than usual. “Speaking of things that kind of go against normal… Does anyone else think that Rean’s eyes sometimes change into a scarlet color, or is it just me?”

At once, Machias’, Gaius’, and Laura’s heads perked up, already acknowledging that he wasn’t the only one who witnessed this phenomenon. 

“Yeah, it kinda changed when he was panicking back at Bareahard—”

“It did flicker red during Nord’s field study, when he—”

“At the second phase of our fight, they stayed red—”

The four witnesses stared at each other in surprise, as did the rest of the class.

“So, Rean can change his eyes red, kinda like how Emma’s eyes turn gold sometimes?” Millium concluded for everyone, curiosity bringing her to the edge of her seat. “Do you think we can learn how to do it too?”

Fie shrugged. “Wouldn’t hurt to try, but I don’t think that’s something a normal human can do.” Her head was leaning against her hand, held up by her elbow resting on the table. “Which is the point.”

Jusis scoffed, offhandedly muttering, “Perhaps that rumor about a noble being possessed by a demon wasn’t complete hearsay.” 

Despite how he sounded disinterested in explaining more, his comment drew everyone’s attention. Machias nearly squawked in ridicule, “Are you saying Rean might’ve been possessed by a demon?!”

Demonic possession… Emma couldn’t say she knew enough about the topic to offer any wisdom. It seemed like she had another thing to ask Grandmother whenever she got the chance…

“Rogner and Hyarms apparently say there’s talk of a demon possessing a noble years ago, that noble possibly being Rean,” Jusis sighed in exasperation, like he couldn’t quite believe what he was saying. “But, given what we’ve witnessed, I can see where the rumors come from, even if the nature of the issue isn’t actually demonic at all.”

“S- So then,” Alisa stammered out, saying a question that had been on the tip of her tongue for a while now. “What do we do about it?”

Common sense said to consult with the church about anything supernatural, but they were dealing with Rean here, not some ghost. It didn’t feel right to ask the church to pounce on him, just because they weren’t sure about what they were seeing.

“Maybe…” Emma eventually spoke up with a mutter. “If I could see this power of his… Then I could possibly craft some sort of talisman that could help him control it. It's certainly possible if the core issue is poor mana control.” She suddenly blinked, her mind catching up to the assumption she just made. “Wait, does Rean even have problems controlling his power?”

Laura shrugged, looking a little unsure. “That actually brings me to the main thing I wanted to discuss with you all.” Absent-mindedly, her hands rubbed her fully healed arms. “I’m sure we all know Rean usually avoided getting into any fights with any of us, even if it was for training. This time, however, he was the one who asked me for a duel.”

“So that’s why…” Jusis absentmindedly hummed. “Did you provoke him?”

“I merely followed him. I know he could have escaped from my sight at any time if he wanted to, so I would think this was planned to some extent. He also claimed the reason he was challenging me was to give myself a chance to prove myself.”

“Prove what? Your strength?” Gaius asked, one of his eyebrows quicking up in interest.

“That’s part of it.” She shook her head sideways, eyes closing as if she was recounting a solemn memory. Sighing, she added, “He wanted me to prove if I could stop him… From hurting any of you.”

Several pairs of eyes widened around the table. Nervously tapping her fingers against the table, Alisa hesitantly asked, “He… plans to hurt us?”

“Anyone who gets in his way,” Laura clarified, before turning to face the class’s vice president. “Machias, he said he once threatened to kill you and anyone who got in his way.”

“Kill?!” Alisa and Elliot exclaimed in horror, sharing the same sentiment as Emma’s racing heart. 

Machias coughed into his fist, failing to hide his look of unease. “He did mention that, yes.”

“You say that like it’s an afterthought,” Jusis shot him an annoyed roll of the eyes. “Don’t you think that bit of information can change our perspective on things?”

“I didn’t think he meant it!”

“No,” Laura confidently stated, sounding like there was no room for question. “He meant it.”

“What?!” It was Emma’s turn to squeak in terror, though it couldn’t be heard over the other confused exclamations of her other classmates. This conversation made such a drastic turn for the worse that her head was reeling from metaphoric whiplash. 

“Huh. I really didn’t think he would be the type,” Fie casually commented, completely unfazed by the revelation. 

For once, Millium’s smile dimmed and stopped bouncing around in her chair, her mouth actually forming a deep frown. "Really?" 

Before the class could devolve further into chaos, Gaius held his hand up, as if to ask for peace. Seeing him, any mutters of opinions died down. 

“We should let Laura finish explaining herself before we come up with any conclusions ourselves,” he firmly said, receiving a grateful nod from the swordswoman.

“My apologies, I shouldn’t have started with such an alarming statement,” Laura shamefully shook her head. “I don’t think he has any real intention to harm anyone. But, I believe he thinks this strange power of his can end up hurting someone, and potentially kill. His recent distant behavior is merely a precaution to keep us safe from him, at least that is what I surmise based on my earlier interaction with him.”

Emma tapped her chin, the rhythm of her thoughts flowing much easier around this idea than the earlier idea. “That would suggest that Rean has trouble controlling his power, otherwise he wouldn’t need to be worried about it hurting anyone. But then, if that’s the case, why would he show it to you if it’s so unstable and dangerous? Based on your description, it seemed like he was able to create those flames and end the attack without a problem.”

Honestly, his fear of fire would make sense if he couldn't control it, but he apparently demonstrated control of it during the duel. 

…Just another detail not adding up.

“That…” Laura sighed with uncertainty. “I cannot explain that part.”

Jusis huffed, “Well, given the recent conspiracy theories, this is certainly a more hopeful theory than I was expecting. But, at the end of the day, it is only an assumption. We need proof before we waste our time thinking about it or even taking any actions about it.”

“Didn’t we talk about looking at the parts of Rean that stayed the same so that we could find out his true goal behind his actions?'' Elliot suddenly countered, eagerly. “He never liked to see any of us hurt. We’ve seen proof of that from the first day of school, when he broke Alisa’s fall and took a hit for you, Jusis. He also pushed himself in Bareahard, when your group was a mess and Machias needed to be rescued… There are more examples, but yeah… He’s always been considerate of us, so maybe he’s still looking out for us? In his own way?”

“Protecting us even if it’s from himself?” Fie quietly mused. “Sounds like something he’d normally do before this entire fiasco.”

Machias rolled his eyes as he pointed an annoyed glare at his rival. “Weren’t you the one who said before that nothing even changed about Rean except his attitude?”

Jusis shrugged. “Just playing the devil’s advocate.”

"That does remind me…" Laura curled her hands together, voice a soft murmur. "After I lost, he became frustrated with me and called me another name…"

Fie passively nodded. "He called her Lianne or something like that."

“Yes. It makes me wonder if he went through something like this before, and this Lianne person was there to witness it…”

In Emma’s opinion, what was more concerning about that revelation was that Rean had confused Laura with this ‘Lianne’ person. He obviously knew he was fighting Laura beforehand, so how did he confuse her? How far gone in his head did he have to be to make such a mistake, and why was his mind jumbled up in the first place?

She couldn’t voice any of her questions, however, when Millium made a comment first. “I never heard of a Lianne before, oh unless it’s that  woman we learned about in history. Forgot what she did though.”

With a roll of his eyes, Jusis turned to the girl. “I doubt Saint Lianne Sandlot has anything to do with this since she’s dead,” he emphasized with the last word with a hiss. “And I doubt it’s worthwhile to try to dig up her identity when we have no clue where she’s from, at least not before we talk to his adoptive family.”

Machias scoffed at that statement, “Maybe Millium should’ve snuck off to Rean’s address since your brother is taking too long to give us any updates.”

Before Jusis could retort, Laura interrupted them with a stern frown. “If we don’t get any updates from Rufus, then we can take measures to contact the Schwarzers ourselves, but let’s stay on topic.”

“Uh, I have a question though,” Alisa suddenly piped up, fingers fidgeting against each other on the table. “If the rumors Jusis heard were true, then Rean had this power for a long time now, so why is he only acting up after the last field study?”

Regaining her enthusiasm, Millium suggested with a pump of her fist, “Maybe those rumors are a lie and he got possessed by a demon during the field study!”

At this point, all the information they dug up so far about Rean had gotten so crazy that no one decided to argue against the girl.

“There’s also his possible connection with the terrorists or that secret society that might have caused a change. Maybe even that witch casted a spell on him,” Gaius mused, a thoughtful expression adjourning his face. Upon hearing about the witch, Emma made a note to double check for any magical traces. “Regardless of the origin and trigger of Rean’s mysterious power, I do think Laura’s theory holds some truth to it.”

“Let me guess,” Jusis muttered in resignation. “Because the wind says so?”

Gaius chuckled, which was enough for an answer. 

“I think the same thing,” Fie joined in, while precariously balancing herself on only two legs of her chair. “But it’s more of a gut feeling for me.”

“You two…” Alisa shook her head in exasperation, yet there was a slight shadow of a smile on her face. “Well, your instinctive feelings haven’t failed us so far, so let’s assume Laura’s theory is right. Emma has to see his power to make any magical interventions to it, which means we’d have to first convince Rean to let loose.” A groan then fell from her lips as she slightly slumped over the table. “I seriously doubt he’d agree to cooperate.”

Elliot agreed with less enthusiasm. “Yeah… He’s not the type to easily accept help…”

“I don’t think it’ll hurt to try,” Millium chirped with an innocent tilt to her head. “Let’s just ask him and see how that goes! If he agrees, then that’s great! If not, I guess we’ll go back to the drawing board!”

“Fine  then.” Jusis crossed his arms, leaning back in his seat to get a good look of everyone. “Who’s asking, then?”

Machias pinched the bridge of his nose, frustration bleeding through his tense features. “I don’t think it can be any of the guys, considering we’ve all done our private confrontations and they didn’t exactly end on good notes.”

“You all know my story,” Alisa was shaking her head fervently. “Can’t be me.”

“I doubt he would want to talk to me so soon after the fight,” Laura sighed.

With all that being said, all eyes darted toward Emma, Fie, and Millium. Apparently they were the only ones who haven’t had a serious talk with Rean, at least to their knowledge. 

“No offense to you, Fie and Millium, but you both have the subtlety of a brick,” Alisa shuddered in horror, just thinking of the dangerous outcome of either of them confronting Rean in his current state.

“None taken.”

“Hey! You never know! I might be the one who breaks the camel’s back!”

“I don’t think you understand what that phrase means and that’s exactly why we can’t let you do it!” Machias quickly scolded Millium while a few exasperated sighs could be heard from around the table. His eyes darted toward Emma as he declared, “It’s final. Your turn, Emma.”

Nearly everyone nodded in agreement, leaving her no room for argument.

“I— I’ll try my best…”

---

The class discussion ended after that, with everyone’s hopes apparently riding on how well Emma could get through to Rean. No pressure there…

Tonight also just happened to be her turn to break curfew and investigate Trista to potentially catch Rean in a secret meeting tonight. Emma could only imagine that, if they caught him in the act of colluding with a terrorist or something, then that would only make the subsequent “let us help you” talk only more difficult. 

However, she didn’t want anyone else to push themselves and take her place. It was becoming quite clear during dinner that Millium, Machias, and Alisa were growing sleepy. She also didn’t want to burden Fie and Elliot who had spent the evening searching town for ghosts. 

As a couple of hours had passed of her patrolling Trista in this unhelpful fog with Gaius. She could only keep hoping that this night would continue to be uneventful. That would help make her planned talk with Rean tomorrow go as peacefully as possible— 

“Emma!”

The witch jumped, surprised that Celine was yelling at her through their telepathic connection at… midnight?! Standing beside her, Gaius sent her a suspicious look due to her sudden reaction, and Emma could only reassuringly chuckle and say she was about to sneeze.

(Celine still didn’t want anyone to know that she was a sentient being and Emma’s familiar.)

“Celine? What is it?”

“You have to come to the Old Schoolhouse. Now.”

Already, goosebumps were forming on her skin from the distressed tone of Celine's voice. She'd never heard her sound so urgent before.  

“O- Okay. I’m on my way.”

“Emma?” Gaius’ concerned voice broke her focus from her telepathic connection. “Are you okay?”

“Yeah…” Well, it would be awfully suspicious to suddenly ditch him in the middle of their patrol. “Can we check the Old Schoolhouse? I know we were just there half an hour ago…”

(So much for keeping Celine's secret a secret…)

He nodded, thankfully without question. 

As they passed Thors’ main campus and neared the Old Schoolhouse, Emma couldn’t help but notice that the fog grew thicker, making it harder to see anything ten arge away. The shade of night certainly didn’t help, and the lights from their flashlights were almost as useful.

The moment they reached the opening before the Old Schoolhouse, a shrill hiss pierced through the fog. “There you are, Emma. You took fore—” Celine appeared from the fog, grumpily padding toward them with her usual elegance until she froze and all the hairs on her body stood. “Wh- What the heck! I didn’t tell you to bring company!”

An awkward laugh fell from the witch, remembering she didn’t tell Celine about any of Class VII’s recent plans regarding the Rean situation.

To her surprise, Gaius appeared unfazed as he crouched down to the cat’s level and ran his hand through her silky black fur. “Hm,” he finally spoke, an amused smile crossing his face as Celine jumped away from his touch, though she couldn’t completely muffle the pur that escaped her throat. “So you can talk.”

“Wh- WHAT!?”

Whipping her head in the direction of her human companion, Emma stared at Gaius in disbelief. “You knew?” 

He nodded, curious eyes still on the defensive familiar. “Zeo has scoured around these parts for prey sometimes. One time he spotted something that looked like a giant black rat. He was about to swoop in, but then the giant rat started cursing in human tongue and summoned a fire ball out of nowhere. I thought it was strange because animals don’t talk, but seeing you…”

Celine was trembling with fury, a ferocious snarl peeking through her lips. “DID THAT BIRD COMPARE ME TO A RAT—”

“It’s amusing,” Gaius lightly chuckled, completely ignoring the familiar’s rage. “Zeo fears no man or monster. But you… You terrify him, apparently.”

“Hmph! Whatever! I happen to hate birds anyway!”

Throughout the short conversation, Emma just stood in the background, quietly thankful that she didn’t have to explain that Celine could talk, nor try to ease tensions between the two. 

“Anyway,” Emma awkwardly spoke up, trying to get the attention of the two. Glancing down at her frazzled familiar, she asked, “What was it that you wanted to speak to me about? It sounded urgent.”

“Right…” Celine coughed, sending a glare at Gaius before she turned to face the Old Schoolhouse. With the moonlight illuminating the surrounding fog but casting shadows from the front of the unmaintained building, it sort of looked like a haunted house. “Tall guy, I’m going to talk about magic stuff only Emma needs to know, so I don’t care if you get confused.”

“That’s alright.”

“Emma,” she continued with a huff. “I want you to read the mana waves around the area.”

With her lips pulled into a frown due to the strange request, Emma followed her familiar’s gaze. She took her glasses off for a moment, blue eyes transforming into glowing gold. 

The familiar semi-transparent blue mists of mana became visible to her, casting a smokey shadow around every living being. This was normal to see around every living being. What wasn’t normal, however, was to see a great pool of ethereal blue reside within something like fog and flow toward the Old Schoolhouse.

“Oh my…” Her eyes widened as her hands moved to hide her gaping mouth. 

This was abnormal. Terrifyingly abnormal. 

“What do you see?” Gaius asked.

“Remember how I talked about mana earlier, and how it’s somewhat tied to people’s souls? Well…”

From the pattern she was seeing, the fog was carrying mana, and the Old Schoolhouse was absorbing it. While the implications of why the Old Schoolhouse was suddenly trying to store up mana were fairly concerning at best, the fact that it was receiving mana from fog was a bigger issue.

Fog shouldn’t have mana. Only living beings, spirits, and special inanimate objects could store it. Considering there shouldn’t be any spirits (the ghost didn’t count) or mana-imbued objects anywhere in Trista, that meant the fog was siphoning off mana from everyone in Trista and giving it to the Old Schoolhouse.

If she concentrated enough, she could even feel some of her own mana being unwillingly taken away from her, and transferring toward this building. 

(Suddenly, Emma wondered if Laura’s fatigue earlier was natural or because of this.)

“Let’s just say that it seems like the Old Schoolhouse appears to be using the fog as some sort of conduit to steal the mana from every living thing within it,” she explained, hoping she didn’t simplify it enough for Gaius to not understand. 

He at least seemed to grasp that this was not a good thing. “Can we reverse this?” 

“At Emma’s level?” There was a low sneer from the feline familiar. “No.”

The witch’s frown tightened, inwardly cursing her amateurity. “Can we at least stop it? This fog had to come from somewhere, so if we stop the source, then the problem will end?”

Celine’s tail swished back and forth, deep in thought. “Hypothetically yes. But, the source is this trial site, the thing made up of nearly unbreakable gnome technology and witch magic enhancements. I doubt you could stop that.”

“But, there has to be a trigger for this! We weren’t told the trials could self-accelerate themselves!” Though at this point, Emma was realizing she wasn’t told many things about her duty, and it was building her frustration. 

She heard a long hum from the familiar. “The only explanation is if a powerful gnome or witch tinkered with it. I doubt you know any gnomes or witches in the area, nor would I feel comfortable with the idea of you facing one alone like an idiot. So, either way, I’d say we can’t do anything about it.”

Briefly, unwanted memories of Vita’s departure shrouded her head.

No. Vita couldn’t be here, causing this. Even she wouldn’t go that far… 

Unconsciously, her legs moved forward, causing her to pace back and forwards. So much stress was piling up over this past week, and there seemed to be a familiar pattern behind it all: She didn’t know enough. Vita had always told that to have knowledge was half the battle, and yet she knew nothing about:

Rean's increasingly avoidant behavior and his possible ties to a secret, possibly illegal organization.

The lavender-smelling shape-shifter-possibly-witch back at Nord.

The ghost haunting the dorms which, based on what she witnessed, was definitely something an all power witch could conjure up.

And now this fog leeching off of everyone’s mana.

Her ignorance was costing her dearly. 

"Calm down."

A firm grip on her shoulder pulled her out of her thoughts as she looked up at Gaius, wearing a soft, concerned frown. She then looked down at Celine, who was hesitantly rubbing the side of body against her leg. Then, she stared up at the Old Schoolhouse, where she was standing in front of, and then to the fog.

Deep breaths…

"I am… overwhelmed."

Celine snorted. "Obviously. You look like Rean every time he passes out. Well, every time before he passes out because passing out obviously lets you escape the panic, but you get what I mean."

Every time he… what? No, she didn't get what she meant! Was Celine going to drop another bombshell on her?!

"You've seen him pass out multiple times?" Gaius asked, his calm tone helping keep Emma somewhat relaxed. Honestly though, if she wasn’t so speechless, she might have screamed.

As far as she was aware, Celine could've only seen the time when he was almost fainting on their first day of school. There were only two other times, as far as she was aware, and each only happened on a field study where she shouldn't have been.

"Yeah, it was so annoying," Celine scoffed in annoyance, like she was so used to it that she was tired of it. "He used to do it all the time, going outside at night and fainting because of a dumb fire spell. I didn't see him do it after your second field study, but I see he never fails to cause problems."

…What? "Why am I only hearing about this now?!"

"I told you before!" The cat defensively hissed, gleaming yellow eyes piercing the witch through the fog. "You said this was normal!"

In what universe would she—

"What's that black-haired guy's problem with fire?"

"Do you mean Rean? Well, he's afraid of fire. It's normal; everyone has fears."

The conversation back from her third week in school rang back in her mind. Emma was gaping in horror. "You didn't say anything about him purposefully triggering himself to faint all the time!"

"It's the same thing: A problem! A normal problem according to you!"

"I—" Deep breath. There was no point in arguing with Celine over this, especially when the familiar typically lacked understanding of this sort of stuff. "I'm sorry, that was a misunderstanding. Fears are normal, fainting isn't. So, if you catch him fainting again, you have to tell me about it."

Celine huffed, finally in agreement. "I guess humans aren't as stupid as I thought."

On the side, Gaius spared both of them a considerate glance, letting a brief, calm silence enveloped between the two. When Emma finally let out a deep exhale, he took the opportunity to muse out loud, “I wonder if it’s related to the weird flames Rean showed today…”

Oh, that was right.

“Celine, if he was trying to conjure up fire, do you know what color the flames were?”

The familiar responded with her usual are-you-dumb look. “Orange-yellow, like most normal flames are, especially ones caused by basic spells are quartz.”

That wasn’t helpful. Perhaps he used his orbments to cast those flames instead of his mana. That was the only explanation for the difference. Emma just groaned to that, letting her glasses rest on the bridge of her nose again. It seemed like this was just another dead end. 

Celine closed her eyes impatiently and huffed, “I’m not worried a single bit about that guy, so let's go focus on the fog again.”

Gaius nodded, warily keeping an eye on Emma’s decelerating breaths. She was going to need to… take a moment to compose herself. 

Turning his attention to Celine, he asked, “What can we do, then?”

“Well, it’s not depleting anyone’s mana levels to a point where it’s life-threatening, since people usually recover it when they sleep. Unless people actually start falling over, I don’t think it’s a problem. In fact, I think it’s a boon for us.”

Emma bit her lip. “How is this possibly any good?”

“What else do you think this crusty old building could be doing with mana?” Celine nonchalantly replied. “It’s using the mana to activate the trials faster. That means the potential Awakener could beat the trials faster and awaken the Divine Knight, and then our duties move to the next stage.”

That still wasn’t a good thing.

“We can’t just rush this. No one’s ready!” Forgetting the fact that each already difficult level became significantly more difficult—and that they were only able to succeed through teamwork and the improvement they gained from the field studies—Class VII was currently in a state where this trial was the least of their concerns. 

Not to even mention that Rean was the only one of them who had access to the buildings, and he was very much not in a state of cooperation at the moment. Granted, Emma or Celine could just unlock the doors by themselves, but then there was also still the possibility that he was the potential Awakener. 

“You better get ready then.” Celine ignored the small outburst, rising to her paws and looking away toward the trees. “For whatever reason and for whatever intention, these trials are being sped up. I doubt that’s an indication that you can just sit back and relax.”

"Okay…" Emma sighed, trying to manage her stress with a single breath. When that didn't work, she recalled how Gaius had run his fingers through Celine's glossy coat of black fur, and decided to follow that same urge. “Thanks, Celine.”

“W- What the heck!” Celine hissed as she jumped away from the touch in disgust. However, she couldn’t hide the faint blush. “Don’t get any ideas like the other fools in your class!”

Despite the protest, Emma didn't regret the action. It was… soothing at least, and Celine didn’t seem to truly mind. Maybe she should force her familiar to visit Class VII more, it would certainly… ease tensions.

To the side, Gaius stifled a chuckle, not like it stopped Celine from sending a glare at him. “Alright then.” he started, calmly gazing over his shoulder toward the main campus. “Should we—”

His voice stopped, body posture abruptly stiffening up. 

“What is it?” Emma whispered, slightly moving closer to her classmate as her eyes tried to see what he might’ve seen.

“There’s someone near.”

The moment he finished his sentence, there was a loud snap that echoed through the area, sounding like a tree branch just snapped. Turning their heads toward the source of the sound, they saw a shadowy figure emerge from the fog and—

“Crow?” Emma voiced out the new arrival’s name in surprise. “What are you doing here?”

The upperclassman awkwardly rubbed the back of his neck, seemingly sharing their surprise. “Gaius and Emma? Now that’s a pair I’d never think would break curfew.” As usual, his mouth was pursed into an easy-going grin as he held a mischievous finger in front of his lips. “Just saying I was totally not sneaking out to do some gambling~”

It was safe to say that he was probably out gambling.

“You’ve certainly chosen a peculiar area to sneak back into Trista,” Gaius curiously pointed out how he had arrived from the middle of the forest of all places.

“The damned fog messed with my sense of direction, heh,” Crow shrugged, just before his eyes narrowed at the two members of Class VII. “What brings you two here out at night? I wouldn’t say this is a great place for a romantic getaway~”

A slight blush adjourned Emma’s cheeks, not having thought about what this might look like to others. Thankfully, Gaius had an explanation ready to spare them any suspicion. 

“Emma’s cat ran off, so we decided to look around for her.” He turned his gaze down to Celine, who was laying on her stomach, to show proof. “We ended up finding her here.”

Technically that was true. 

“That’s it?” Crow crossed his arms behind his head, sounding a little disappointed. “I was expecting som—”

The remnants of his sentence were abruptly drowned out by a sudden blood-curdling scream. The woods seemed to vibrate to the distressed, unrecognizable voice before it was abruptly cut off into silence, not doing any favors to how Emma’s heart seemed to freeze for a moment.

“—Interesting…” the upperclassmen lamely finished, having been just proven wrong. 

Gaius was already heading southeast of the Old Schoolhouse, running in the direction of the scream. With chills making her skin rise, Emma wasn’t far behind him, nor were Crow and Celine. 

In the midst of the fog and uneven terrain full of sneaky tree roots and rocks, it was a miracle no one tripped on their search for the scream’s source—

CLATTER

“Aw crap—” Crow bit out a curse as the sound of metal whistling against the grass and stone reached everyone’s ears. They looked to his feet to see that he had kicked a sword that was hiding in the tufts of the grass.

“That’s a sword the nobles typically use for court fencing…” Gaius calmly observed, eyes now scanning their surroundings in suspicion. 

Crow shook his head in disbelief. “Man, what kind of idiot would leave their weapon lying around like this? It could cut someone’s leg off!”

Emma sent him an upset glare, though she timidly squeaked, “Please don’t say stuff like that so casually!” Carefully, she bent down to pick up the sword to make sure no one else would trip over it. The cold hilt bit against her soft hands, and she was reminded why she never felt comfortable holding weapons like this. “Maybe the owner was the one who screamed?”

“So then what made the screamer scream?” Crow mused out loud, showing more curiosity than any real signs of worry. 

There was a low hum from Gaius as he tilted his head up to the dark shadows of tree branches and leaves, surrounded by moonlit swirls of fog. Eventually, he voiced, “Above.”

Following his gaze, Emma caught a glimpse of a familiar red uniform hiding up on one of the tree branches. Moving around that specific tree to get a better angle, she could see the wearer of the uniform more clearly. She gasped immediately.

“Rean?” 

What the heck was he doing here, hiding up in a tree of all places? Actually nevermind, that was the entire point of Class VII’s nightly patrols, to prove that Rean was having secret meetings at night with shady people. But, looking around… There didn’t seem to be anyone else. 

His back was leaning against the base of the tree while his knees were bent slightly away from his chest, both feet planted against the branch he was sitting on. At the sound of her voice, lilac eyes cracked open, quickly narrowing when they spotted her.

Sensing he wasn’t going to say anything, Emma asked, “Uh, what are you doing up there?”

He remained eerily silent, though his piercing lilac gaze didn’t leave them.

“Oh, come on~” Crow teased, trying to get a response out of their friend. “You know no one’s going to stop bothering you unless you spill some beans! Is it something interesting like a secret rendezvous with a secret lover or are you secretly planning the country’s destruction up there?”

Emma sweatdropped. Was Crow so unaware of the recent events with Rean that he could keep being so casually teasing him?

Unexpectedly, however, that somehow convinced Rean to actually speak. 

“Alphonse wanted to talk.”

Somehow that response was almost as bad as terrorism or secret agents, assuming this wasn’t a lie. After everything she had witnessed of the two, she was pretty sure it was a terrible idea for Rean and Alphonse to be alone together ever. The fact that Alphonse’s sword was here by itself wasn’t exactly a good sign either. 

“He wanted to talk up in the trees?” Crow chuckled, not sounding like he completely believed that answer. Unfortunately for him, Rean decided to ignore him.

Emma was trying to hide any signs of nervousness as she suddenly held the weapon up in the air for Rean to get a better look. “Is this sword his, then?” 

“Probably,” he shrugged.

As usual, he wasn’t being very cooperative. Yet, at the same time, he was more talkative than lately, despite his actual answers not being helpful. That should’ve been a good sign of improvement, but Emma couldn’t help but be worried about what spurred this abrupt inconsistency again. It couldn’t have been the duel…. 

Patiently, Gaius asked, “Was Alphonse the one who screamed?” 

Black eyebrows furrowed, faintly showing confusion. “I didn’t hear anything.”

Emma and Gaius shared a concerned look, knowing for certain that they both heard the scream and that it came from this direction. He could have been lying, but there was a genuine flash of surprise in his facial features…

Trying to not sound suspicious, Emma followed up with another question, “Um… Do you know where he went?” 

“Don’t know,” Rean darkly muttered, closing his eyes again as he turned his legs to dangle off the tree branch. At once, he dropped to the ground and deftly landed without issue. “I don’t want to know.”

His feet were already on the move, clearly showing he didn’t want to be around them any longer. They had probably reached the limit of how much patience he had of them, but…

Emma hesitantly took a step towards her classmate. There were still many questions filling up her head, regarding the current situation and the entirety of the past week. Her mind even wondered if now was a good time to ask if he would let her get a glimpse of his strange power, especially since he seemed willing to talk for once. 

In the end, however, the question that ended up falling from her lips was, “Rean, uh… Are you alright?”

“I’m fine.”

Crow snorted, undaunted by the glare Rean threw at him. “So he says, but I spy with my little eye two very not fine cuts on his left arm~”

Almost immediately, Rean moved his arm closer to his chest, trying to hide any proof of injury. Unfortunately for him, despite his attempts to hide his arm, the action kind of proved that Crow was right. 

Sharing another concerned look with Gaius, Emma carefully reached a hand out toward their troubled classmate. Blood was rushing up to her head as she gathered up the courage to point him with a stern look. The over-nurturing side of her was strongly rearing its head, and she couldn’t stop herself from scolding him, “It’s dangerous to leave a wound unattended. I won't leave until I heal it or I’ll watch you take care of it yourself. Either way, we’re taking care of the injury now.”

She probably shouldn’t have been so firm. After all, she desperately needed to tread carefully to have any hope of getting him to cooperate with the Class’s suggestion about his suggestion. 

But… She couldn’t just let him walk off and bleed.

With pinched eyebrows and bared teeth, Rean’s eyes shut, seemingly in pained contemplation. It was a rather surprising response; Emma almost feared that she ticked him off. 

After listening to him take a few deep breaths, Rean eventually pulled his left arm away from his chest, revealing a torn, bloody sleeve. Underneath that were two long cuts intersecting each other, forming a narrow, dark red X shape on his forearm. As he showed his arm to her, his eyes glanced away to the side.

He was… actually letting her heal him? This strayed extremely far from how he had wanted no one’s assistance this past week. 

Despite the surprise, Emma was already whispering the chant for a healing spell, watching the skin slowly close itself up, although her mind was elsewhere. The injury itself didn’t surprise her; dueling with Laura was bound to have some consequences. What was more surprising was his apparent refusal to heal himself.

Enough hours had gone by. That was enough time to recharge his EP and find a healing orbment, assuming he originally had neither. Right now, he could have just taken his ARCUS out and healed himself with an art. 

But he didn’t. 

He didn’t even wrap a bandage around the injury, so why..? 

For a moment, her thoughts drifted to something more disturbing, something akin to self-harm, but then he obviously didn’t want anyone to see this. He wouldn’t have cut through his own uniform if that was his intention. That being said though, if he received these injuries from his fight with Laura, why hadn’t he even changed his clothes? It was like he was completely unaware of his current physical state—

"He called her Lianne or something like that."

His mental status couldn’t have been good either at this moment. 

She paused, and slowly looked up to his face. His eyes were a little unfocused and there was a slight tremor to his hands, possibly due to blood loss, but it could also be something else. Like sleep deprivation, as was apparent by the bags under his eyes. Or…

“How are you feeling?” she decided to ask.

She earned a low mutter as Rean turned his head away from her, hiding his expression. “None of your business.”

Okay, she should have expected that. But… “I’m just worried because I noticed that the Old Schoolhouse has been acting up and, well… It’s kind of draining everyone’s mana,” she slowly said, carefully watching any alarming reaction. “If you don’t replenish your mana with regular sleep, you could notice some weakness and tiredness.”

Considering how Rean’s sleep hygiene seemed to be horrendous according to Celine, he probably wasn’t doing so well under these conditions. Maybe that was why he confused Laura’s name with someone else’s. It could also be why he was being oddly talkative right now.

“Damn.” Well, Emma got a reaction, just not from the person she was trying to pull one out of. Briefly glancing at Crow, she heard his voice continue. “Does that mean I have an excuse to be late to class now?”

“How carefree of you.” Gaius quietly observed. 

“What can I say, adaptability just happens to be one of my strengths,” Crow whistled, slightly moving to casually lean against the tree beside him. His easy-going smirk didn’t disappear as he looked at Rean. “Unless there exists a goody-two-shoes who wants to beat up the building and solve the problem, I’ll make the best of a crappy situation~”

With his eyes closing once again, Rean muttered, “If only.” 

He began to walk toward the direction of the main campus, seemingly unworried about the fog potentially messing with his sense of direction. Worried he might end up toppling over, Emma almost followed after him if not for how Gaius held out an arm in front of her.

Right… No pushing… 

But she could still observe.

Peeking over her glasses, her eyes shifted into glimmering golds. Amateur witches couldn’t specifically measure how much mana each individual had, but she could at least read the flow. And staring at his fleeting figure, she could see…

Stagnancy?

She glanced back at Gaius and Crow for a moment, both of which stared back at her curiously, and saw faint blue trails of mana drain into the surrounding thick fog. Gaze darting back to Rean before he was wrapped up into the fog and disappeared, she found no movement. All of his mana stayed within his body; not a single drop was pulled away.

Her mind calculated two reasons for this. One: He was so efficient with mana control that he could prevent it from being absorbed by the Old Schoolhouse. Since this idea contradicted the idea that he had poor control over his potentially mana-fueled power, she was leaning toward her second reason:

The Divine Knight Trial was intentionally not stealing any of his mana. 

That could make sense on the assumption he truly was the potential awakener. After all, it wouldn’t be fair to weaken the one attempting the trial. At the same time, however, this brought into question once again just what Rean was...

At this point, with her obvious lack of knowledge, she wasn't sure if any her deductive reasoning could hold true. So, her mouth opened, ready to ask Celine for her opinion, but Crow interrupted her.

“Now, how much you wanna bet he investigates that Old Schoolhouse thing by himself?” Crow asked, regarding the two remaining members of Class VII with a mischievous glint in his red eyes.

Gaius eyed their senior in slight suspicion. “You sound confident in that prediction.”

Seeing how the flow of the conversation was going elsewhere, Emma decided to keep her mouth shut. She could always consult with Celine later, and it would be preferable to talk with her about it while there was no one around to listen to confusing witch-talk. It would make especially no sense to Crow here, who she hadn't even mentioned an ounce about Awakeners and Divine Knights to.

“I just get the feeling that, with or without you guys, he can’t resist the call of a danger like that~” the upperclassman proudly explained as he kicked against the tree and started to walk his own way toward the dormitories. “Consider it Ol’ Crow’s reliable gut feeling or, in this case, I can feel it in my bones. So, a bone feeling if you will.”

Emma could feel her own face scrunch up in confusion from the explanation. By now, she was no stranger to hearing her companions follow some sort of gut instinct of theirs, but this was… oddly specific. 

Casting a curious glance at the upperclassman, Emma questioned, “How can you feel so confident when Rean’s been mostly unpredictable recently? How much do you even know about what’s going on with him?”

A sharp grin spread across his features, teasingly replying to her second question, “Absolutely nothing~” 

He had moved far enough so that the fog half shrouded his body. With his back facing them, he made a casual wave of his hand before the thick, white mists hid him from view.

“He can be quite… the enigma sometimes, surprisingly,” Gaius amusedly commented when Crow had completely left before he turned to face the witch. “But he’s also reliable; I would trust that instinct of his.”

“That Rean might tackle the Old Schoolhouse by himself to fix how it's stealing everyone’s mana?” Celine asked as she stood by Emma’s legs, finally speaking up now that the other two were gone. “Kind of sounds like a dumb prediction since he’s been uncaring of everything recently.”

Emma awkwardly coughed. “We’re actually beginning to think he never stopped caring about us and that his current actions are just another way of keeping us away from harm.”

“Hah?!” Celine exclaimed, looking at the two students like she just heard the stupidest thing ever. “You’re joking, right? That doesn’t even make sense!”

The two students shook their heads.

“Tch. This is why I hate humans! So complicated!”

Gaius let out an amused chuckle as he stared back up at the treetops, particularly at where Rean had been sitting earlier. “Well, there is one way to prove if that theory is right. If Rean truly doesn’t care about anyone and continues to ignore requests, then he has absolutely no reason to check the Old Schoolhouse out. If we catch him sneaking into the Old Schoolhouse, then he can’t exactly say he doesn’t care.”

“I don’t know about that,” Celine grumbled. “If it were me, I’d say I was only helping because I don’t need this old building sucking up my mana…”

That was doubtful, but Emma didn’t dare to voice her thoughts to the familiar. Instead, she nodded in agreement with Gaius’ suggestion. “Either way, I think any motivation to explore the Old Schoolhouse while it’s acting like this would contradict whatever it is he wants us to believe. If he does try to investigate it himself, we need to catch up so we can bring to light his motivations… and to make sure he doesn’t possibly tackle the trials by himself…”

Celine let out a painful sigh. “By track, I assume you want me to keep an eye on him.”

“Please?” 

“Ughhhhhhhhhh…”

Not bothering to stifle a chuckle at Celine’s dramatic antics, Emma turned to face her human companion with determination. “If he doesn’t agree to cooperate after my talk with him tomorrow, then we can keep that plan in mind. For now though, shall we head back to the dorms?”

“Let’s.”

 

---

---

 

Without conclusion or some sort of closure, it was difficult to move on. Without consistency, it was difficult to hold trust. Without progress, it was difficult to keep believing and not give up.

Rean was… certainly testing all these virtues for Alisa. Obviously there was something deeply troubling him. However, the further they dug into his recent unapproachable behavior, the more it looked like he was not a good person. Shady connections, demonic powers, threats to hurt/kill anyone in his way… It wasn’t a good picture and Alisa didn’t know what to believe.

The only reason she didn’t give up was because some cursed part of her didn’t know how to stop caring about people, even if they hurt her. She wanted to care about Rean despite how he clearly wanted to destroy all his relationships. More importantly, however, she still cared for this class that stopped at nothing to support each other. That was why she tried to steer any conversations away from painting Rean as a completely irredeemable character, despite how wrong it felt.

Yeah, she would try to keep up with Class VII and move forward to finding the truth. A hopefully good truth.

But, oh Goddess, Rean was seriously testing her.

Especially after this rough morning.

It started with Emma and Gaius explaining what they had seen during their patrol last night, of the Old Schoolhouse apparently sucking up everyone’s mana and their encounters with Rean and Crow. Obviously, this was all very concerning and Alisa might’ve actually ripped her hair out because of stress if not for how tired she was.

She had no idea what mana felt like, nor had she known it existed before Emma described it yesterday. But, after having a bad case of insomnia ever since the Nord Field Study’s second day, she was definitely feeling the effects of mana deprivation as she entered class. Judging by Millium’s lack of enthusiasm and the yawns from Laura, Fie and Machias, she wasn’t the only one affected.

Sleep deprivation was never an issue for Alisa because her parents were workaholics. She was pretty sure their genes found a way to combat sleep just to get their work done, so she never had to worry about staying awake on only four hours of sleep.

But this? She could barely keep her eyes open when she sat down at her desk and waited for class to start in five minutes. It would be fine, Emma said that the Old Schoolhouse wasn’t draining so much mana at a fast rate to actually harm anyone, so it would be fine. 

(At least it was kind of a blessing as she didn’t have to tense up in awkwardness whenever Rean took his usual seat beside her.)

The bell rang and, just as she thought she could pay attention in this class with her eyes closed, someone’s voice other than Instructor Sara’s boomed throughout the room.

“Yes, much to all your blatant excitement…” Vice Principal Heinrich crankily sighed, obviously not happy to be here. “I’m here in this class full of you simpletons once again. Valestein herself cannot make it because it turns out that her return trip was delayed due to weather issues.”

Return trip..? No one knew Instructor Sara went on a trip, period. Despite Jusis and Machias throwing questions about why the heck she left in the first place, the vice principal ignored them and continued, “However, Valestein’s absence will mean little today, due to this other important announcement I have to make.”

He waited for the mutters and comments about Instructor Sara to die down before he puffed up his chest and sent a deep frown at all the students before him.

“The school has received reports that one of our students has gone missing” He paused, eyes narrowing at one particular student in the center of the classroom. “I’m sure you’re all familiar with him. His name is Alphonse Henzel.”

Alisa’s eyes snapped open, fatigue suddenly washing away like it never existed. Emma had said that Rean claimed to have been talking to Alphonse late last night, and that Alphonse’s sword was carelessly laying around. The quick conclusion was that Rean might’ve been the last person to see the noble before he went missing.

And they had heard a scream last night… Given how violent he’d been recently, he could’ve…

Oh Goddess, to keep having faith in someone so tight-lipped was such a struggle.

“If anyone knows anything about his whereabouts, please speak with one of the staff immediately.”

Alisa wasn’t looking at Rean; she never had the courage to after Nord’s Field study, but she could see Emma and Elliot sneak worried glances at him, while the postures of others had tensed.

Rean didn’t say anything, looking as disinterested as usual. Nothing of his body posture hinted that he felt alarmed, and no one knew if that was a good or bad thing. 

With no one bringing forward any information, Heinrich let out a tired grunt. “Well then, if no one has anything to say, then class is dismissed. After all, with one student missing, it’s imperative that he be found as soon as possible, so all the school staff will try to locate him.” The man turned away from the class and walked toward the door, muttering some curse about how annoying the fog was going to be for the search. Though, he didn’t leave without snapping at them one last time. “You all better not go missing yourselves or I’ll give all of you detention!”

The door slammed, afterwards letting silence crash down in the classroom. Everyone had the same disbelieving thoughts swirling in their heads, and everyone knew Rean wasn’t going to try to prove them wrong.

Eventually, only the sounds of papers shuffling and a chair scooting against the floor could be heard. Rean was preparing to leave.

This was the moment they planned Emma to talk to him about his powers and how they could potentially help him, but the witch seemed paralyzed by her own conclusions. Out of the corner of her eyes, Alisa spotted movement from Millium, the girl turning and opening her mouth—

“Rean!” Alisa said before a sound could escape her youngest classmate’s throat. She refused to let her ‘break the camel’s back.’ However, finding herself standing by her desk with everyone’s attention on her, she kind of regretted everything.

This was part of no plan and she was nowhere near comfortable holding a conversation with the guy who gave her so many mixed, annoying feelings. Even after this mess was possibly solved, she predicted things would still be awkward between them, so to initiate a conversation with him— Well…

Words just didn’t want to form in her mouth.

Thankfully, Rean ignored that she said anything at all. Nothing about his body language even indicated that he’d heard her at all. Still finding her mouth a desert of sound, she frantically locked eyes with Emma and silently begged her to get on with it.

“Oh—” It seemed like the top scorer’s brain finally rebooted. Gently standing up from her chair and approaching Rean’s desk, Emma sent him a small smile. “Uh…”

Alisa took that moment to speedily gather her things and dash out the door, not needing to stay in that room any longer.

Ah… Her heart was racing. Stupid unstable teenage emotions and hormones. The unresolved tension between her and Rean was so draining and taxing on her emotions. No matter how much she pretended to make peace with Rean in her head, it seemed like actually speaking to him made her body go into a complete flight response.

It was pretty pathetic, especially since Rean was dealing with deeper issues if what she’d experienced through that ARCUS link was accurate, but…

“Don’t belittle yourself for being human, you can’t ignore how you have your own issues as well. In fact, you’re not obligated to forgive him for what he put you through”

They would understand. 

With a hand over her heart, she tried walking off her stress as she exited the school. Students were everywhere since school was canceled today, some gossiping insane theories about what might’ve happened while others were genuinely trying to figure out the noble’s whereabouts. 

Honestly, it kind of just struck her at that very moment how awful it probably was to be overwhelmed by her own selfishness while there was a missing person . Sure, she really really hated Alphonse’s guts, but he didn’t deserve to be suddenly stolen away from his normal life.

Maybe, when she calmed down, she should help search for the guy. She was clearly going to be useless in how to directly deal with Rean, so she might as well—

“Oh, hello there! Aren’t you Rean’s classmate?”

Blonde hair whipped around as her head darted to face the person who seemed to call her.

Apparently, while she was swimming in her heavy thoughts, she had passed the school gates. To her right, the shrouds of fog seemed to lift and revealed this black-haired girl, wearing a cute uniform from—

“Elise?!” As in Rean’s sister?!

The young girl beamed, happy to be recognized. “Yes, and you’re… Alisa, correct?”

“Yeah…” This was so awkward. She was on such terrible terms with Rean, and now she found herself in the company of his sister who probably still thought they were best of friends. 

“It’s nice to see you. What brings you here?” Alisa sounded stiff to her own ears, almost like she was talking to Mother on her busier days. But she couldn’t just run away because, well, wasn’t this an opportunity to finally get much needed information to crack the code on Rean’s behavior? This might be the break they needed, assuming that Elise had an idea about what was going on. 

Though, just by looking at that sweet smile on the girl, Alisa had to wonder how much Elise knew about her own brother. Could she hold the same innocent care and affection for Rean if she knew how he was acting recently?

To the question, Elise’s head slightly lowered as she could barely hide her grimace. “Oh, it’s just that Rean sent me a questionable letter, and I wanted to talk to him about it.”

Not a good sign.

“But since I found you first, can I ask you how he’s doing? He’s not skipping any meals or anything, right?”

She would’ve found the sisterly concern sweet if not for how the actual answer to that question was probably much worse than Elise was expecting. And Alisa really didn’t know if she could break the news. Too bad she wouldn’t get the information Class VII needed about Rean by sugarcoating information to his sister. 

“Actually…” Out of habit, her finger was nervously twirling a lock of her hair. “He’s been pretty distant recently. He doesn’t like to talk or do anything with anyone anymore, and he’s kind of…” No sugarcoating. “Actually, not kind of. It’s like he doesn’t care about us anymore, he even says he wants nothing to do with us.”

Alisa expected disbelief and denial to be the first thing Elise expressed. Something like how she and everyone else felt when Rean first coldly shrugged them away like they were nothing important.

Already, shock was filtering throughout those eyes, quickly dawning with horror. However, instead of demanding for an explanation like what had been anticipated, Elise turned as pale as a ghost and breathlessly whispered:

“...Again?”

Notes:

As promised, things didn't actually get worse~ This was a relatively a chill chapter!

---

To be continued in "Chapter 22 - Nine Point Eight"
In which someone’s been getting prank phone calls, someone is having a totally normal tea party with a totally normal person, and Elise feels like things are spiraling down at the acceleration of gravity

AKA, the rooftop scene.

Take care, thanks for reading, and I’d appreciate a comment!

Chapter 22: Nine Point Eight

Notes:

Here's June's chapter~

Long locks of smooth, golden hair swayed to the fresh breeze of night. Silver white armor glistened in the face of the moon. Atop Stargazer's Tower was a heavily armored woman, bathing in moonlight, her powerful presence keeping all the monsters within this tower at bay.

The whole picture exuded elegance and peace, according to her subordinates. While Lianne did not intend to look as such, she could not deny that she enjoyed moments such as these, especially since they were soon to grow scarce.

RING

The chime of her calling device suddenly pierced through the peaceful silence. Several arge away from her, she could hear Duvalie screech and complain, cursing about how the caller should receive divine retribution for ruining this fine moment.

Although amused, Lianne paid Duvalie no mind. With no hesitation or irritation, she picked up the call.

Usually, these odd calls from Campanella would begin with him pretending to be a scam caller, acting like she just earned a reward for merely existing. Usually, she would wait quietly until he was done and ask if there was anything needed of her.

This time, however, nothing could be heard except soft breathing.

This too, was also becoming a common reoccurrence. 

But, she knew this was not Campanella's doing.

“My lord,” Duvalie sighed, muscles tensing with frustration and confusion. “Why do you keep answering those prank calls when we’re already so busy with preparations in Crossbell?”

“Who said they were prank calls?” Lianne answered, pointing her gaze up at the western skies. 

These calls, although soundless, were not pointless.

“Perhaps the person on the other side of the line wants to say something but doesn’t have the courage to."

She paused, wondering if that statement would garner a reaction. Nothing could be heard from the device, not even the breathing from before, but the call was still active.

Continuing, she let out a soft exhale. "The reason I keep answering is to let whoever is on this call know that I’m always willing to listen.”

CLICK

The call ended.

Patience was key, especially with him. Although with how frequent these silent calls have been, Lianne could not help but be concerned. If he was left to his own devices too long, he could be his own undoing force, if fate didn't destroy him first. That was the consensus she had reached with Gilliath. 

She had to check up on him again soon. But, her duties restrained her here for just a while longer. Perhaps she could ask another for a favor…

“Duvalie?”

Said woman jumped, immediately turning and saluting. “Yes, my Lord?”

There were still quite a few of her co-workers who were currently staying in Erebonia. She didn't want to ask Bleublanc and Kreuger again so soon, so that left…

“Hm… I have a request for you. It involves asking another one of them for a favor.” She was so thankful that she was on good terms with most of her co-workers, it made asking for help a much smoother process. 

“Again?!" Duvalie practically squawks in disbelief. "Do you really have to waste your time on some punk who ran away from you?”

Lianne let her eyes fall shut, hiding the beautiful dusk scenery from her and replacing the sight of a far gone memory. “Yes. For that child, anything’s worth it.”

She estimated she would finish a majority of her pressing duties in the next two months. After that, depending on his progress…

Perhaps it would be time to finally reconcile.

 

---

---

 

Ceramic tea cups clinked against their respective saucers on a finely decorated table sitting outside in Trista. In all her years since becoming a maid for the Reinford family, Sharon would’ve never expected so many separate entities to collide here, now, like this.

Black Alberich and the exception he made, certain members of Ouroboros and their individual selfish interests, Lady Alisa and her insecurities… All these people of vastly different backgrounds and goals were acting out differently from normal, and it all seemed to trace back to the teen named Rean Schwarzer…

“Ah, it appears that even the fickle strings of fate are elusive to a master with strings like yourself!” commented her guest. The well-dressed man sitting across from her had medium length brown hair; he could fool anyone into believing he was some no-name noble. 

To her, it was obvious this man was none other than Phantom Thief B, otherwise known as Bleublanc, Enforcer X. Never did she think she would be drinking tea with his man so soon, especially when her duties to the Reinford family were her priority, but it seemed like their interests overlapped just this once. 

Refilling both their cups of tea, Sharon politely replied, “Unfortunately, the assassin organization did not find fate-reading a worthy investment.”

“Oho, true. I suppose an organization dedicating to cutting the strings of life would see no point in reading them~”

If Sharon had to explain how she ended up here, she would have to begin from the first day of Class VII’s Field Study at the Nord Highlands. As any maid tasked with the duty of watching over her master, she dutifully stalked Alisa on the trip from afar, only being noticed by Sara on the third day.

Anyway, that first day held the occurrence of an event Sharon had been dreading ever since she grew attached to Irina and Alisa. Franz Reinford had shown himself to the public—assuming the students of Class VII were public—and so she thought her contract with the Reinford family had come to an end without any warning. 

Hiding her dejectment, she approached the man to confirm that her contract was over and that she would have to return to being an active Enforcer. 

“I told them that I am Professor Lughman, not Franz Reinford,” the nonchalant man answered, keeping her contract intact for a while longer. “Just because that delusional girl thinks I’m someone else, doesn’t mean that someone has returned.”

It was an unexpected response from the usually cold and merciless man, but Sharon was not going to complain.

“Now though, if Franz Reinford suddenly starts to have memory pings… Then we’ll talk.”

What a devious man, but that was not currently any of her business. 

The day after that was somehow more disastrous when Lady Alisa encountered Black Alberich once again. Rejected by her ‘amnesiac’ father, Lady Alisa had ran away with a broken and confused heart. Sharon knew she should have been chasing after Lady Alisa but, since she didn’t have to consider Black Alberich as an associate at the moment, she thought watching his moves would be the best way to be useful to the young girl. If he planned any more emotional torment, she would be prepared.

Except… She didn’t expect this plan would involve Master Rean. 

This complicated things because she was currently supposed to be serving every member of Class VII, so she could not simply expose him out of her own will. That meant she could not warn Alisa of any potential misfortunes in the future because it conflicted with another person she was supposed to be serving.

(Though, not even she could predict Lady Alisa’s confession to happen so early, nor Master Rean’s handling of it.)

From there, the following dominoes fell. The aftermath left Class VII thrown in disarray, and Alisa in distress. It made sense, people needed connections, and they lost a friend in merely three days. Alisa herself lost her father again, her crush, and her friend. Sharon never quite experienced such stuff in her earlier years, but she understood they were hurting.

The most stunning of all was when Sharon had personally confronted Master Rean about his poor management of his diet. Despite the tension going on in the whole class, and his effect on Lady Alisa’s emotional turmoil, it was still her duty to make sure the residents of this dorm were properly meeting their needs. 

When faced with Master Rean, however, she couldn’t help but be reminded of when she had that mission all those years ago to contact Franz Reinford, only to find out he was already possessed by Black Alberich. In this moment, despite looking crippled on the floor, Master Rean looked like he had been possessed by something else, causing her instincts to defend herself to flare up.

Instead, he brought up a solution that would stop her from bothering him any further…

So, she could only stand back and watch…

Until a message arrived for her.

A message primarily from Lady Arianrhod, no less. Unexpected. But, she knew a favor from a woman of that caliber could not have any malicious intentions, assuming it was unrelated to Ouroboros activity. 

The contents were simple: to check on Rean and make sure he was okay.

The woman probably had no idea what Sharon's current position was which already included watching over the teen, but it was quite a surprise. Sharon was aware that Lady Arianrhod had taken care of this boy before (the members of Ouroboros were surprisingly gossipy during tea time), but she didn't expect that care to extend beyond his leave.

After hearing Bleublanc's stories, it then became clear that Lady Arianrhod acted especially very… motherly to Master Rean. Sometimes she could act overprotective over him, hence why she spent her favors mostly on him. That had been a heartwarming discovery, though not a surprise because that fit the woman's nature.

Anyway, Sharon had the choice of following through with the favor, specifically the part about making sure Master Rean was okay. Of course, she had little reason not to. First, she had deep respect for Lady Arianrhod and wouldn't mind doing a small favor as long as it didn't interfere with her role as the Reinford family's maid. Second, Master Rean was currently the source of distress for Lady Alisa and the other members of Class VII. It fell within her duty to quell that distress in one way or the other.

The question then was how to go about it. Master Rean had previously told her to keep her lips sealed about anything she knew about him outside from his life in Thors. She couldn't do much with such an order.

That was when Bleublanc offered one of his whimsical plans, one that went through loopholes and provided even more "lovely" confusion for the class, and even more for the one who could figure out the main culprit.

"Perhaps your lips are sealed, but his are not, nor are mine~"

He had given her a fragment of a letter he once sent to Lady Arianrhod to riddle with the class, and implied that she should meticulously dig through the trashed papers from Rean's room and reveal them.

So, she did.

Sharon had chosen the letter from Master Rean to his little sister. Since the letter became more of a diary toward the end, it would be good to give insight into his (once) true feelings. It was simply proof that he cared, if anyone's faith was dwindling, and perhaps refuel them in their quest to get Master Rean on their side again.

Bleublanc had suggested she also choose the letter from the person named "G." Combined with his own letter, it would cast more seeds of doubt, possibly resulting in completely fractured bonds from the revelation/misunderstanding.

Now, that sounded terrible, but cutting off their attachment to a source of distress would ultimately relieve them in one way or the other. This was also exactly what Master Rean desired, so this path didn't necessarily stray from either of her duties.

From now on, however, whichever road they go down would be a result of their own decisions. Sharon could only do damage control from whatever happens.

Anyway that led to her out here, enjoying tea on her own prepared table in the forest next to the school, joined by Bleublanc. They weren't meeting as Enforcers, but simply as old acquaintances with shared interests.

"I know it's not my place, but may I ask why you're playing a hand in this?" Sharon questioned just before placing her lips on the tea cup.

"Ask and you shall receive~" The man exaggeratedly raised his tea cup like it was a glass of beer. "As you know, I'm constantly on the journey to finding true beauty! The growing bonds of Class VII have caught my interest and I want to test them against the stormy tides of deceit and darkness of the unknown."

Sharon didn't say anything as she quietly sipped from her tea.

"Well, I say test, but I'm not doing anything much this time. Rean himself is the one conjuring this entire mess up and I'm all for watching how they save it…"

There was a mischievous glint in his fake-colored eyes.

"…or destroy it."

---

---

 

I’ll join the army. I’ll be so busy, I’ll barely have any time to visit, but at least I’ll be protecting all of you. This way, I also won’t be causing any more trouble for your parents, so at least you can all have the respect you deserve from your peers. It’s the only way I can repay you, Mom and Dad for all they’ve done for me.

Take care,

Rean 

What a stupid, stupid letter! How many times did her parents have to tell him that they didn’t mind? That they would take care of him regardless of whatever others thought? This wasn’t repayment..! This was far from it! They didn’t want this crazy delusion Rean created in his mind!

Elise didn’t want it either!

Which was why she made it all the way to Trista when she found the time to correct her brother’s misunderstanding and end these thoughts. And what was this stuff about “your parents”? After how they stuck with him through his worst, did he really think Mother and Father didn’t see him as their son?

Ohh… Elise was definitely going to give him a piece of her mind, which may or may not be influenced by Alfin’s mischievousness. 

Or, at least that was the plan until her conversation with Alisa…

Already, the hair on her skin was rising with the chills crawling up her nerves. The weak light of morning shining through the ominously dancing fogs didn't help calm her at all.

“...Again?” she gasped, Alisa’s description of Rean’s recent behavior giving her memories to a time she wanted to forget. 

Acting like he didn’t care. Not saying much. Isolating himself. It was all too familiar, and she didn’t like the implications. First, he said he wanted to stop bothering their family, and now he was avoiding his classmates?

He was literally laughing and chattering so brightly with his friends a little less than two weeks ago, what could have happened? Had that also been a facade..?

Oh, she had a dreadful feeling sinking in her gut…

Elise was already moving on her feet, emboldened by the news to quickly walk toward the silhouette of the school building behind the fog. Alisa kept up with the frantic pace, unable to contain her questions as she pushed through the streams of students leaving school. 

“Again? Is this normal? How did you deal with it?”

“No, it’s not normal. I dealt with it terribly,” she shamefully admitted, then paused, taking a moment to shake the intruding terrible memory from the forefront of her mind. “It… Had a terrible outcome as well…”

Alisa’s face scrunched up in disbelief. “No way, you and Rean were so caring for each other when I last saw you.”

Honestly, it was a miracle that Rean himself didn’t hate her, after every sickening thing she had said on that day…

“I don’t know how long you’ve had to deal with Rean like this, but he acted like that for years when he was first adopted…” An embarrassed sigh fell from her lips, but she had long accepted her mistakes… For the most part. “I grew frustrated and lost my patience, and… I’m sure you can figure out how that ended…”

Well, perhaps not entirely. She doubted an ending with Rean ramming his sword through his… would be any of his classmates’ first predictions, but Elise wasn't keen on explaining that right now. She couldn't spare the emotional drain if she was going to confront Rean about his letter soon… 

There was an audible gulp from Alisa, a cold sweat trailing down her temple. “Yeah… I think I understand how you feel…”

Oh… That was not a good sign. How long had he been acting like this now?

Before she could ask, however, Elise suddenly stopped in front of the split of halls and a staircase. She finally remembered she had never been here before and had no idea where to go. Instinctively, she just went forward, thinking Rean would automatically show up… 

Turning around to face Alisa with a lost look and trembling lip. “Please, guide me to where he is.”

The blonde froze for a moment, hesitant. It really seemed like she and Rean were on rocky terms right now, and Elise could only wonder if Rean was acting worse than back then. At least when he had been adopted, Elise never knew him before and never liked him from the beginning. Here, he had obviously developed bonds with his classmates, so she couldn’t imagine how confused and possibly betrayed they felt…

It only took a second for Alisa to regain her composure and smile, with a little force. “Follow me,” she said as she walked ahead and climbed the stairs. After the first flight of stairs, they turned around the corner and walked until they stopped in front of one specific classroom. 

With one hand on the door handle, Alisa took a deep breath before she pulled the door open and gestured for Elise to enter first. Taking one step into the room, Elise peeked inside for the familiar mop of black-hair that belonged to her brother.

…He wasn’t here.

Instead there was a colorful assortment of students, all wearing the same red uniform Rean had worn before he had departed to school. These must have all been Rean’s classmates, and she briefly grew excited at the idea of placing faces to the names she had seen in his letters.

…However, she could sense an aura of gloom hanging over them, emphasized by the varying slanted shoulders, bowed heads, and frowns of familiar frustration on each student. Surprisingly though, their determined gazes didn’t seem to lose the shine of hope.

“Sounds like that went as well as I thought it would,” muttered a blonde-haired boy. His posture and appearance were as proper as a nobleman’s and his blue eyes were full of authority and icy seriousness. She assumed this was Jusis Albarea.

“Well, I guess we really are back at the drawing board then!” chirped a girl, younger than Elise herself. With bubbly features and an obliviousness to the mood of the room, this must have been Millium Orion. 

“Sorry…” Softly muttered a bespectacled girl with a braided, plum hair. Perhaps this was Emma Millstein? “If I was more stern and unrelenting, then maybe things would’ve turned out differently…”

Suddenly, Alisa stepped forward and coughed loudly, bringing the class’ attention to her. It seemed like most of her classmates’ were so wrapped inside their minds that they didn’t even notice the new arrivals. She asked, “What happened?”

“Wait, Alisa?” Elliot, the one she had met at the train station over a week ago, spoke up in shock, pointing directly at her. “Is that Elise?!”

“Elise? As in, Rean’s little sister..?” the tall, tan-skinned teen, fitting the physical description of Gaius Worzel, asked for clarification. The rest of the room fell silent and unintentionally gaped at her, not prepared for this development. 

Politely bowing to them, Elise introduced herself. “Yes, my name is Elise Schwarzer, Rean’s younger sister. I would say it’s a pleasure to meet you all, but it doesn’t sound like now is the time for such pleasantries since it seems like my brother is acting like an idiot at the moment.”

There were a few raised eyebrows from the blatant statement. 

The green-haired guy with green eyes behind his glasses, presumably Machias Regnitz, spoke up next. “Please tell me you’re here to smack some sense into Rean,” he sighed, sounding so tired. Actually, looking closely, some pairs of eyelids were even drooping.

Nodding determinedly, Elise assured them. “I came here to confront him about something he mentioned in his last letter, but I suppose I should ask him what’s going with you all. Alisa told me things haven’t been pretty between you all and him. Did he tell any of you why he’s suddenly avoiding you all?”

The silver-haired girl, slouched at her desk, lazily shook her head. The posture and movements belonged to Fie Claussell’s description in the letters. “Nope. He told us nothing.”

“But we have a few predictions based on what we’ve observed and found,” cut in a girl with a presence not unlike Jusis’. Elise could guess this was the last noble of the class, Laura Arseid. She shared a nod with the rest of the class. “We can run them down with you, if you’re willing to provide your own insight.”

Wow… After hearing how uncooperative Rean was being, it was a surprised these people were still trying to give him a chance. Elise felt touched and appreciative that Rean found these people as his friends. A stark difference to herself, who didn’t bother giving him a chance when he didn’t act the way she wanted him to. 

“Perhaps later, but I would like to speak to Rean first. Do you know where he is?”

“I just talked to him on the rooftop,” Emma answered with a shy frown. “He might still be there.”

“Thank you!” Elise was already turning, speedily running out the classroom and heading up the stairs. Behind her, she noticed the others were beginning to follow her, but she kept that at the back of her mind.

Based on all the red flags from the letter and from his classmates’ testimonies. Elise didn’t want to waste another second to reunite with Rean.

---

The door to the schooltop swung open, and her breath immediately hitched upon seeing him. He was leaning against the railings with his elbows steadily placed on the surface, while his eyes surveyed the clouded view beyond the edge of the schoolroof. He was the picture of calm, but only at a glance. 

His gaze was vacant.

His shoulders held a slight shake to them.

His breathing wasn’t as composed as what he learned from Master Ka-Fai.

No smile.

For a long time now, Elise knew what the consequences of anyone pushing everyone away would be. Yet somehow… She had never seen Rean look so lonely before. He wasn’t even like this when he rammed that sword through…

Deep breath.

Still, he was recognizable. He was more recognizable than the brother she met at Heimdallr’s train station a few weeks ago. This was the person she met when her parents first introduced her to her new adoptive brother. 

She knew what to do with him. Or rather, she knew what not to do.

Glancing back, she saw the members of Class VII not so subtly peek through the door. She smiled at them to reassure them, and to reassure herself because her track record for dealing with Rean when he was like this wasn’t so stellar.

With determined footsteps, she approached her brother until she stood by his side, resting her sweaty palms on the cool railings.

“What a pleasant view.” It was a silly thing for her to say, considering the only thing they could see was the dull white fog covering the sky and the ground. 

In response to her, only a quiet laugh broke out of Rean.

Elise tried her best to stop her eyebrows from furrowing in concern. She learned a long time ago that showing too much worry for him only repelled him. “Is it not?”

He only chuckled again. 

“Rean.”

No response this time. A chill crawled up her spine, growing in anxiety because everything about the situation was too eerie and unpredictable. She couldn't predict what Rean was thinking if he gave her nothing.

Adios, she had only just arrived and she felt like she already lost him.

Change of tactics.

“I’ve seen you like this before.” She placed a hand on his fingers. Only she could notice the slight tremble to them. They flinched to her touch and tried to tug away, but she only tightened her grip. “Can you tell me what’s going on?”

With the swirling fog, a long, cold silence waved around them. It was almost like he could vaporize along with their misty surroundings at any given moment.

Elise couldn’t help herself from feeling the tempting electricity of frustration she had felt during that day. Her fist, the one not holding Rean’s hand, subconsciously clenched. She had forgotten how much she hated it when he didn’t listen, or at least acted like he didn’t care. 

But, she was better than who she was back then. She forced herself to cast her old impatience aside and focused on not letting Rean’s hand escape from her grasp. And so, it was a surprise when he actually did choose to speak.

“You know.”  

Her hand stiffened slightly upon hearing that voice. It had the same, ominous gruff echo from when he killed those jaegers all those years ago. Was he implying this was the reason why he was avoiding everyone? Because the strange power inside him was overwhelming him? It reminded her of— 

“This whole time the person I should’ve been protecting everyone from was… myself.”

“You’re…” she tried to sound as patient and calm as possible. “You're scared of what you might do, is that right?”

His fingers twitched again under her hand, and there was a near imperceptible nod from his head. This reaction was actually another surprise. Based on what his classmates had said, she didn’t expect him to be open or honest at all. 

Unless this reaction wasn't true at all..?

"Okay…" she gently said, mostly to fill the ensuing silence as her mind raced through the possibilities of her next response. She had to tread lightly here; she knew that if she said anything along the lines of getting him help, he would surely explode. "Would you like to take a break then? I know school can be stressful, so maybe you could take a break, return home and relax until you have everything under control again."

A small breeze blew over their heads and slightly tousled their hairs before he spoke up again, his voice somewhat back to normal. "You read my letter, that's why you're here. I don’t need a break," he sighed, leaning further against the railing. "I just want everyone to stop bothering me.”

And now he was definitely lying. 

She sucked in a breath and held it for a while. “Is it that you want everyone to stop bothering you, or that you want to stop bothering everyone?” 

If there was one thing she knew about Rean through all his complicated behavioral changes, it was that he hated being a burden to people. His actions to protect or distance himself stemmed from that. 

He didn’t reply to her statement, as expected. Elise paid no heed to his silence and continued, “You don’t trouble our family, Rean. And I’m sure you don’t trouble Class VII either, or else they wouldn’t continue to try repairing your friendships.”

A silent pause.

Another empty chuckle then escaped his throat. 

This wasn’t working.

Frustration— 

Perhaps she shouldn’t be the one having this fragile conversation with him— But she had to make up for that awful day. She wasn’t going to push him away again; she refused to. 

Time to try yet another angle then. 

She spoke softly, “Actually, nevermind, you’re right.” Validate his opinion. Her mother once told her that never agreeing sometimes sounded to the other person like she wasn't listening. She had to prove she was. “You are trouble.”

His head finally turned, eyes returning her stern gaze. Now, his attentiveness at the moment reminded her of when she yelled at him all those cruel words. It was disturbing how his attention could only be successfully grabbed by negative ideas, but she would have to use it to her advantage. 

“But, who isn’t? I’m sure I’ve burdened you and our parents before. Your classmates have also caused trouble. You’re not alone in being a burden; everyone is. It’s a natural part of being human.”

At once, his eyes turned away from her, down to the side. With the slight slant in his eyebrows and faintly deeper frown, he was the picture of shamefulness with a mix of bitterness. A heavy feeling suddenly weighed down on her chest, making her internally panic about if she just said something wrong, though she couldn’t figure out what. 

Fueled by her worries, she didn’t pause for too long so her words wouldn’t settle for too long in his mind. “All I’m saying is that Mother, Father and I would be happy if you stayed with us. No one wants you to leave, especially under the pretense of lifting our burdens.”

Her brother shook his head indifferently, as if dismissing her words as nonsense. He wasn’t listening again. 

So frustrating..!

Deep breath. 

Losing her temple would result in a terrible outcome again. 

She sighed, “But… If you really want to leave us, then that is your decision. Naturally, we’d do everything to keep in contact with you, but if you do… You do." 

Father once told her the double-edged truth of how truly determined individuals usually get what they want in the end. This went for positive things like achieving dreams. This also went for negative things like running away from family and friends, like what Rean was doing. 

And the grim reality was sometimes to let them go and do what they wanted. 

Now, despite what her father once said, she truly couldn't find any part of herself that could accept Rean's decision to leave. Still, she had to say these words because there were few options left with the lack of response. Desperation was gaining control over her, looking for anything to get him to react again.

She added, “But it can only be because you truly desire to, not because you think it will stop bothering us.”

His fingers finally stilled under hers.

Elise didn't know what to make of that.

“But I’m wondering…" She moved her head so that she was visible in his averted sight. With a confused pout, she asked, "If you want to separate from us… and from your friends in Class VII, then where will you be going?”

It was an innocent question. Rean wasn't dumb, he had to have a plan after he left. Like his letter, she wouldn't be surprised if he restated that he was going to the army, but he didn't say anything at all.

But, he didn't need to say anything for Elise to understand.

In the flash of a second, he yanked his hand from hers and rested it on his tachi, slightly trembling once again. His eyes became pinpricks for a mere moment, exactly like when he had begun to hysterically talk to himself on that day. Somehow, he'd been triggered.

The eerie fog surrounding them almost resembled the snowy backdrop of that time as well, in her eyes. All he had to do was unsheath the tachi and point it at himself, and Elise would be sure she was living in her painful memory.

Was that supposed to be his answer? A gesture that reminded her of that terrible day?

If she didn't know any better, Rean just unintentionally implied his plans after this was to go nowhere— to die..?

…Elise didn't know any better, and so her heart raced in fear. 

Her mouth opened in panic.

“Where... will you be going?” she repeated the question firmly, her terror-filled eyes widening at him. 

Rean stepped away from her, head lowering and gaze averting again. No part of him looked proud about his plans for the future. 

“Rean.”

She stepped forward. He stepped back.

Forward. Back. Until his back dug into the edge of the railings.

“Please, answer me honestly.” Her low voice was trembling and wavering, but she kept her eyes locked onto the hand on his tachi. “Are you thinking of ending your life again..?”

The thought of him abandoning her family was already sickening itself. However, if he truly meant death as a form of leaving— well, that changed things..!

His eyes squeezed shut as he shook his head, looking offended and troubled by her question. “...No.”

He sounded genuine, yet… she sensed a lie inside. Rean himself might not even realize it, but the flash of defeat that slanted the features of his face for a moment spoke volumes about, well, something. Something bad. With these inconsistencies, she wasn’t exactly sure what she was seeing or listening to at the moment anymore, but her heart still shattered for him.

“No..?” she intended to whisper, but the volume of her voice was rising instead. “Just look at yourself! Listen to yourself!” 

Since she had walked up close, she had immediately noticed how his skin had a bit less color than usual, how his hair lost its neatness and shine. His eyes were also sunken, not helped by the bags under them. And then she had noticed how his hands were dry when she touched them, and she wouldn’t be surprised if the shakiness was not entirely due to his emotions. To top it all off was his raspy voice, based on what little he’d been saying. 

This was not healthy at all.

He was already rotting, and Elise feared what she would feel if she hugged him tightly.

“I’m not going to die,” he hissed back, still keeping his eyes shut.

“You say that, but you’re already killing yourself! At this rate, the only place for you will be a coffin—” It felt like the air was knocked out of her lungs when she finished, only for her mind to frantically piece together the testimonies of his classmates and what she was witnessing right now to make a conclusion. A conclusion that made her scream.

“Is that why you’re cutting ties with everyone?! Is your plan to get everyone to stop caring about you so no one would care if you were gone?!”

Her patience was gone, replaced by complete and utter shame. She felt stupid for asking these questions— for not realizing this earlier. He’d done it before; he could do it again..!

This time, Rean was the one who took a deep breath. His hand raised and was placed against his chest as he gritted out, “ No.”

But his damned hand was still tightly gripping the hilt of his sword. 

“Then tell me what’s going on! Or tell someone!” She didn’t even realize when she had walked up to him, grasping her hands tightly onto his arms, willing and wishing and begging him to stay. She looked up at him, staring into those unseeing lilacs with watery eyes. “I can’t stand to see you like this! Forcing yourself to be alone? Not even taking care of your basic needs?! I’ve seen the end results of it, and you’ve experienced it! I know you know how this will end!”

He grimaced, then darkly muttered, “It's not your problem.”

What.

“It's not my—?! Why wouldn't it be my problem?!” She was gasping exasperatedly at him. What kind of statement— Nevermind. Instead of asking more questions, she deliberately spoke every following word slowly, hoping to make him understand. “Rean, you’re family. We’ve been through enough together that I can care about you. I’ve seen you struggle with yourself enough that I want you to find happiness.” 

I don’t need a reason to not want you to die.  

But it was impossible because his stubbornness to hate himself was too strong to let him believe anyone could care about him.

Playing nice wasn’t getting through to him, and she didn’t have the heart or wit to keep trying to twist his own twisted thinking. She only had a voice and her feelings, and her feelings were— 

Her heart leaped, freeing the words from her throat before her confused brain could process it. “I love you! For Aidios’ sake, Rean! I can’t go back to not caring for you!”

From all the trauma that involved him, she wasn’t sure before if she could actually love him. Before now, she wasn’t sure if everything she did to change and support him was out of obligation or guilt. So… it was strange to feel warmth fill her up, to have it dawn on her that she actually meant these precious words.

This person, who caused her so much frustration and grief, was still the same person who protected her while they explored through the valley full of monsters. He was the same person who saved her from being abducted. He was the same person who came back to them after almost dying and gave them a chance to make this family work.

She had wanted this family to work, and now she truly saw him as part of the family.

And something changed about him because of those three words. His eyes were no longer pointing away but were now locked on with hers, shaking like she had just blurted out some lunacy. And then his teeth bared, twisting into a scowl fueled by… 

…Betrayal?

Their parents have always said they loved him, yet his reaction was never anything energetic. This time, however, the colors of his eyes were bleeding into a faint red, shooting electricity at her with a hurt glare. Only during the incident had he ever looked like this, like he was being possessed by madness.

“Don’t you start lying to me too.”

Huh?

Her eyes were wide, staring back at him with pure confusion and hurt from being accused that her feelings were a lie. “I’m not lying! I don’t hate you anymore!” A cold sweat rolled down from her brow, but she continued to determinedly return his sharp gaze. “I’m allowed to change my opinion!”

However, it wasn’t enough. Nothing was ever enough with him. He stopped looking. Again. He stopped listening. Again. Staring into his unseeing eyes, she was disappointed at what she found. 

“...But you don’t believe me.”

That was one core of the issue.

And she hated how she had no way to make him believe. If words didn’t work—If actions didn’t work—If feelings didn’t work— 

Then, what would?

Would he be doomed to never understand?

A drop of water fell on her shoe. 

 

“ You're right. I don’t believe you .” 

 

Elise almost flinched; the harshness and anger in his voice was reminiscent of the one he used years ago with that power, but she wasn’t used to it being directed at herself . 

“ It doesn’t make sense. ” He put his hands on her wrists, gently prying her fingers off him, a stunning contrast to the utter insanity radiating from the familiar red gleam in his eyes as his voice rose. “ How can I believe that you can care for the guy who RUINED your family’s reputation?! ”

His words were slow and building with frustration, mirroring the way she had been speaking a few moments ago, wanting her to understand.

“ How can you wish HAPPINESS for the guy who TRAUMATIZED you because he's a MONSTER?!”

“You’re not—” 

His voice rose and snapped, coiling around her throat with such volume that she could not argue.

“ How can you even LOVE—" The word was spat out like pure venom, like it was dangerous to his very being. "—the guy who’s SCREAMING at you and making you CRY at this very moment?! ”

Wide eyed, her fingers slowly lifted to touch her face, feeling the wet sensation against her soft fingertips. She only realized now that the stream of salty water was dripping down to her shoe. 

She hadn't even known she was crying.

His teeth were still ferociously bared at her, so filled with heated wrath. “You hate me. I can tell you hate me. You’re supposed to hate me..!”

These false beliefs were spoken like they were an undeniable law that could never be broken. 

It was so… sad.

Was that what triggered him then? Her confession that she could actually see him as her brother? If so, then she would have to correct Rean’s false assumptions. Unknowingly stomping her foot and gritting her teeth, she didn't back down.

“You are sorely mistaken, Rean. I told you before that we want you to stay BECAUSE we care more about you than a silly reputation.” She was surprised by how she managed to keep her voice firm and steady while never shying her eyes away from a gaze that wanted to mercilessly swallow her up in fire. “You didn’t traumatize me because you’re a monster . You protected me because you had the strength to, and—”

"Not a monster?" His laugh was hollow as his eyes stared at her incredulously. "Do you not remember those guys I murdered without remorse? I still can't care about them! And right now, I still want to kill someone!" Crimson eyes, so empty yet vibrant, flicked over to the sword holstered to his hip, then back to Elise. "...I could kill you!"

“You're not going to kill me! In fact, if you didn't care, I would not be ALIVE right now!” She sharply retorted without flinching, unintimidated by the threat. "You did care about taking their lives. Do you not remember how you trapped yourself in your mind for two years? Do you not remember how you had to do rehab five days every week until you started school? You STOPPED yourself from hurting anyone else. Then you tried to get BETTER. No monster would do that!"

“A pathetic redemption quest doesn’t stop monsters from being monsters!”

“I’m saying that you were NEVER a monster!”

He was yelling. She was yelling. They were both escalating, and she was too riled up by his assumptions to calm down. Even a deep breath failed to keep her patience, especially when she was breathless. 

“And this?” she humorlessly chuckled, wiping the tears away from her face. Suddenly she was grabbing him by the collar, shrieking her next words out. “I didn’t cry when the nobles shunned mother and father! I didn’t cry because you transformed!” 

He flinched backwards, but there wasn't much space for him to move between Elise and the metal railings still pressing against his back.

“I cry because I want to! These tears aren't to be pitied! Back then, I was crying for OUR mother and father! I was crying for MYSELF! And I’m only crying NOW because I care about YOU! I’m crying because you’re hurting so much and it’s so painful to just watch and do nothing while you suffer!"

The tears weren't stopping. Only flowing stronger. 

"You're my ONLY brother, Rean! Of course I don't want to lose you!" 

Yes, they didn’t do many normal sibling things. Yes, he wasn’t the knight in shining armor she originally wanted. But, he was still there. Despite how much she hated him at the time, he was still giving them a chance as a family. He still watched over her to keep her safe when he obviously didn't have to. He was obviously capable of running away from home even back then, but he still stayed until she told him to leave!

It didn't matter how small his presence was. It was one she grew comfortable with and she wanted him to stay around and learn more about him..! 

“I barely even remember life before you! I don’t want to think about what life would be like without you!”

Not like this!

Her throat hurt so much. Her eyes stung so much. Dizziness was flooding her mind, but the stunned expression on her brother gave her balance. She could sense her words were finally getting to him. 

"If I didn’t care about you...” Just another push— Prove that she cared for this knucklehead..! “...THEN I WOULDN’T BE CRYING!”

…

He didn’t retort, making silence crash down upon them after her outburst.

Rean suddenly became very still and quiet.... 

Slowly and gently, he pried her fingers off his collar. One. Two. Three... All ten were released under a deafening silence. Elise didn’t know the meaning of why he was taking his time nor if this gesture was trying to tell her something. She was more focused on how his hold on her was the tightest it had ever been since they first met. 

He was holding onto her. Tightly. Securely.

Until he let go of her hands, dropping them to her sides.

“You can get a better brother.” He droned on so emotionlessly, his mutter so quiet, full of words so ridiculous that she thought she was hallucinating. “Then, you could stop caring about me. So you can stop crying for me.”

“No!” What was with this twisted logic?! Why did it matter so much if she cried for him?!

"I can be replaced by someone much more worthy—”

What the—?

“You can’t be replaced!”

“—by someone much less dangerous—”

“You’re not dangerous!”

“—by someone who didn't trouble you so much."

“LISTEN TO ME!”

Her breaking point was well beyond breached. Her hand raised with fingers all spread out, ready to smack some sense into him. 

But then, the world tilted as she fell backwards to the ground, a dull pain immediately reaching her rear.

SQUEAK

Recovering from the shock that Rean just pushed her, a high pitched squeak reached her ears and suddenly blood drained from her face. Her heart plummeted and her ears rang in the way it usually did when she climbed far too up the Eisenguard Range of mountains.

Too high. Why were her senses suddenly screaming at her that the school rooftop was too high?

Her eyes finally caught sight of the source of the squeaking, seeing Rean’s shoes rub against the top of the railing. 

What was he..?

Looking further up, she saw him standing on the railing, and she witnessed how his red-lilac eyes gazed down at the sea of fog like it was a body of water he could dive in.

No- Don't— 

“Rean!” Raw desperation pushed her up and toward the railings. “Stop!”

Please-please— "Please stop! Rean, please—"

His shoes squeaked against the railing again as he pushed against the metal, entire body now flying.

Time seemed slow, searing the moment her hand reached out, to only brush against the back of his jacket but grab only air forever in her memory.

“Ah…”

He plummeted. Swallowed by the fog. 

But she could still hear it. The sound of— 

SQUEAK

—His end. Again. There was no denying it. She’d gone through this once before, she knew that he knew how to kill.

And that sound was still ringing— 

SQUEAK

—In her ears. Not stopping because that sound would be the last sound she would ever hear Rean make— 

SQUEAK

It was terrifyingly echoing in her head.

And then the second sound she would remember about him would not be his awkward laughs or anything as nice. It would be the— 

SQUELCH

“Hah…”

A flurry of memories—Of bloodstained snow, impaled flesh, dead bodies, dead smiles—All crashed down on her. Air ripped out of her lungs and was never invited back inside as she screeched his name out and started pulling herself over the railing, trying to dig through the fog with her hand.

“Please..! Come back!”

This was all her fault..! She said those hateful things so long ago which pushed him to taking his life the first time— She vowed to fix things between them and help him live— And she thought she did, but look— 

Her eyes couldn’t look, stinging from all the tears cascading down her face. But she’d seen enough, her brother had taken his life in front of her again— Because they talked— Because of her again — All her fault— She couldn’t fix anything— 

Her upper body tipped over the railing, toes no longer touching the ground. A harsh blast of air suddenly rushed against her face and her body was now in a freefall.

In her desperation to reach her brother, she didn’t realize that she climbed over the railing and fell over. 

And was now falling.

The feeling of ungroundedness was so long yet so brief, only ending when pain blossomed from her body smacking into something hard.

 

...

 

“Got her,” cut in a familiar voice. It belonged to Fie, her exhausted mind supplemented for her. She had grabbed her and tethered her to the roof, causing her body to swing into the outer wall of the building. “A little help would be appreciated though.”

There was a collective sigh of relief as someone else yelled.

“Lammy!” 

And suddenly, Elise could feel herself rising through the air until she was softly placed on a cold floor.

“I’m going to check on Rean,” said that same voice. Elise didn’t spend any amount of time questioning who that voice belonged to because the name that was said cleared the sadness and fogginess in her head. The squeaks and squelches were still trying to drown her thoughts but his name ended up being a beacon for her to return to reality. Somewhat.

Tremors and sobs wrecked through her body. “Rean..! Why....?”

This couldn’t be happening…

In the midst of her cries, she stumbled and tried to force herself toward the stairs. She had to see him— Maybe he survived? Maybe she was in denial. Regardless, she still had to see him..!

But, she collapsed to her feet.

What did she do wrong this time..? How did she fail him again..?

Something gentle and soft pressed against her front as warm arms wrapped around her. Seeing the blonde locks of hair through the blurry tears, Elise realized that Alisa was holding her in a sympathetic embrace. 

As comforting as the gesture was, Elise only found herself crying and screaming more, cursing stuff typical nobles should never say.

“Elise...” She was listening to Alisa softly talk to her, but what did it even matter? “I—”

RING

She could barely hear the noise, but she felt how one hand left her back as Alisa dug into her skirt pocket to grab a device she’d seen glimpses of before. With a tired glance around, she saw the seven remaining students of Class VII still standing around, unsure of what to do; unsure of how to move.

“M- Millium?” The blonde’s voice had a slight tremble to it, unable to hide how she was affected by the situation. With a glance at Elise, still stifling her wails, Alisa hesitantly asked, “Good news or bad news?”

“Uh…” The uncertainty didn’t help ease anyone’s nerves, and Elise already felt another oncoming storm of tears threatening her eyes. “I kinda have good news and bad news?”

How dizzying… The answer was simple. He was either alive or on the brink of death. There was no possibility of good news…

After a short pause, the girl on the call continued, “ The good news is that Rean didn’t go splat.”

Didn’t go… splat.

Splat.

Elise was speechless.

“Millium,” a voice who belonged to Jusis sighed. “Mind your blunt language.”

“Oops! Sorry!” The innocent tone of the girl was so disproportionate to this entire situation, Elise probably would’ve blown up at the lack of consideration if she hadn’t already used up all her energy.

“Then…” cut in another voice. It was Elliot’s. “If Rean isn’t the… uh… result of what we saw, then what is he?”

“That’s the bad news… uh…” 

Elise wanted to throw up. What could be worse than… ' Splat? '

“He’s, well… He’s not here.”

Notes:

Sometimes I wonder if I made the most needlessly complicated, dramatic, angstiest thing possible, but I can’t exactly turn back now lol. But if you people are still tagging along for the ride, I guess it's okay, haha.

Since there is literally only one big scene happening in this chapter (lol finally, after so freaking long), this update was earlier than usual. Also, I may have written 60% of this literally 12 months ago, back when this story was so much simpler. Just a few edits and, voila, done lol. That being said, the next chapter will most likely take longer because…

…Well, it’s a mess. I haven't touched it. And I’m very rusty with the POV.

—-

To be continued in “Chapter 23 - Coin Toss”
In which Rean is constantly falling and struggles to control which face he lands on.
AKA, the gaps shall be filled.

Chapter 23: Coin Toss: Heads

Notes:

If you care about excuses, let's just say I got burnt out. I couldn't feel anything while trying to write this, nor could I enjoy anything to read. I was numb to a bunch of things, so I decided to step away from all this until I was in a better state to read and write. I'm getting back into the groove but I still have trouble focusing without having my mind wander while I read/write, but I hope this chapter conveys the appropriate emotions lol.

Anywayyyy, I’mma just put it out there that this chapter may be really weirdly formatted. It’s a testament to Rean’s *amazingly well* mental state, so good luck navigating through this.

WARNING: Intrusive thoughts, self-harm, suicide-baiting, mentioned suicide attempt, questionable writing decisions

Also NOTE: After the flashback, the POV starts after the duel with the nobles. And yes, bathrooms exist here, adjoined to everyone's room.

KNOCK T HUD … KNO CK THUD K NOC K KNOC K … KN OCK THUD T HUD … K NOCK THU D … T HUD KN OCK TH UD THU D … KNOCK K NOCK KNOCK

Lilac eyes fluttered open, only to immediately squeeze shut at the blinding light searing into his vision. He tried to pull the blanket over his eyes, but his muscles, so unusually stiff and weak, immediately started screaming at him as if he hadn’t moved in years.

A pained groan rumbled through his throat as he attempted to lift his arm, feeling heavier than usual. Everything was heavy. Everything was sore and aching. With every simple movement feeling too strenuous, it didn’t feel like he was in his own body…

Wait.

He… wasn’t supposed to have a functional body. He wasn’t even supposed to see the light..! He very clearly remembered the searing sensation of running his sword through his—

How was he still alive?! Why was he still alive..? If some miracle didn’t allow him to die quick enough from severing half his blood flow to his heart, then the snowstorm should’ve been able to hit the final nail in his coffin!

Was this some kind of messed up joke? Was Aidios up there laughing at him? He couldn’t live properly, and now he apparently couldn’t kill himself properly either! 

Damn it! What was he supposed to do now..? Run away again? Die? Again? Wouldn’t he just fail again and burden even more people? Obviously his survival was the doing of someone else, so would they just get in his way again?

At this point, he gave up on trying to sit up or even move his arm. He was just so… so exhausted, only having the energy to grit his teeth in tearful frustration. Was it possible that wasting away in bed was also going to backfire on him?

“Rean Schwarzer.”

No. This was pointless!

His body felt so heavy and empty and dead, but his emotions seemed to spark to life in an instant. More waves of frustration bubbled under his skin, mind irrationally concluding that the speaker must’ve “saved” him. Was he angry? Maybe. If moving wasn’t so painful and meaningless, he might’ve lashed out because, well, how dare this person stop him from making everything right?

Dry throat rasping as if it hadn’t been used ever, he bitterly grumbled, “You shouldn’t have saved me.”

"Rean…"

Go away. Just leave him alo—

Wait. 

Stop. 

Hold on a minute. 

There was something about that voice that trudged up more unwanted emotions from his corpse-like body. It was something familiar. Something he lo—

Breath hitching, shaky, disbelieving eyes snapped open. The lights and blurry images overwhelmed him, but—

That— That voice..!

He immediately shot up into a sitting position, against all the protests of his muscles. 

That was— That was—

Vision slowly and painfully clearing, the figure of a broad-shouldered man appeared in his sight, standing a few rege by the foot of his bed. Dark brown hair with a single white streak neatly flowed down from his head, not hiding the emerald green eyes staring firmly back at him.

Terror seizing and strangling his throat, he barely gasped out, “Dad..?”

Oh… Oh no. What was Dad doing here? Why was..? Why was he here with him? Dad shouldn't be here, watching him recover from the aftermath of his attempted suici—

Dad was here. 

Seeing the aftermath of his attempted suicide. 

Aidios.

Dad knew that he tried to kill himself. The same dad who made a deal with Ishmelga to save his life. The same dad who listened to him beg to not be abandoned and let him stay . 

This man sacrificed so much for him, and yet he… he tried to end his own life.

This was messed up. He caused this messed up situation. He did this. Why did he..?

Air was trapped in his lungs. Tears welled up in his horrified eyes, forcing their way out and making wet streams down his face.

"I didn't mean to—!"

Liar. He did mean to. He really meant to die.

He covered his face with his trembling hands, not wanting his deplorable existence to be seen by the man he loved so much. Seriously, what kind of pitiful excuse of a son would repay his parent by undoing all of the love and care? 

“I- I’m sorry— I’m so sorry..!” 

These words were the only honest things he could give. These worthless words… What a disappointment.

He was such a disappointment..!

“Rean…” The man's voice was much softer this time, and it was accompanied by the sensation of a warm hand carding through his hair. “It’s okay.”

No..! Nothing was okay! Everything about this situation was wrong! So wrong wrong wrong! His dad shouldn’t be here, comforting him and all his patheticness! 

“It’s not!” He tearfully bellowed out in fear and guilt, moving his head away from the man’s hand. “Don’t touch me! Stay away from me!”

This wasn’t right either. This was the first time they’d seen each other in so long, and Rean’s response was something as cold as this. Nothing was right.  

He could do nothing right.

“Gah…” he gritted out, clutching his hand to his chest. His heart was so painfully tight, at the complete mercy of the tendrils of the curse that lived within him. He shouldn’t even be surprised that all semblance of control he had over this power was nonexistent again. At this rate, he was going to wind up hurting someone again..!

D- damn it all!

Vaguely, he sensed his dad reaching a hand out toward him. He instinctively responded by leaning away, thinking it was another comforting gesture when—

TH U M P

He choked out a gasp, feeling the pain subside and the curse’s influence over him recede. Confused and exhausted, he weakly peeked at his dad, seeing the man smirk.

“Now then, Rean Schwarzer, let’s have a talk.”

His attention was more glued to his dad’s hand, silently speaking a message:

I missed you.

.̷̢̗̰͈̹̜̤͎̙͚͍̻̙͈̈́͛̾̅͒̑̿͐̏̍̍́͛̀   ̶͉͎̺͒́̉̉ .̵̢̰͈̱̩͓͑.̶̨͇̳̻̝̬͓̻̺̰̹͙͓̫̪̓̄́̋́͘ͅ    ̸̘̿ .̷͙̮̗̟̥̓͒̈́̄́̈́̍̄̌̐̾̓̾̐̓̄̈́̇̐͋̉̈͆͘̚ͅ    .̵̢͈̝̳͔͎͉̪͈̤̗͉̺̝̗̂͒̇̌́̔͊͗̄̄͋͒̐̄͌̄̃͑̾͌̈́̈́͌̋̌̃͘̕͜͜͠͝͝  .̷̮̕ ̷͇͔͈̫̣̂̍͗̎   .̴̸̢̡̧̦̣͔̗͎̲̣͈̥͙͉̱̲̙̥͓͖̘͍̤̦͊̀̋   .̴̢̛̛̯͇͕̬̠̯̺͇̹͎̟̍́͛̿́̿̆̃͑̾̉̅̄̐̇͒͛̄͋̑͆͆͛̌̾͒̍̿̈́̓͗̎̔̓̈́͜͜͝͠   .̸̛̟̻̳̝͉̘͐̀̅̔͊̿̈́͘   .̷̨͈͍͙̪͂͠͠   .̶̜̰̝̺͍̰̘̭͌̀̌̔́̃̕͝   .̴̢̳̠͉̠̮̭̱̯̥̠̎ 

Seven more to go.

His head painfully spins. Acid burns and scratches his throat as he retches whatever food from his stomach into his filthy trash can. None of the pain and irritation, however, can compare to his disgraceful performance in the duel earlier today, especially the part where he had to sever his link with Elliot.

Utter disgrace. And now he ends up back like this:

All so regretful and hopeless. 

All so lost and without control. 

All so absolutely weak, death clinging onto his shadow like it’s his only friend.

It's strange. It's confusing. Why is his body reacting like this? Why is his body punishing him for a severed link? He’s not even supposed to be here. He’s not supposed to be working together with them for so long. Everything about his place in Class VII is wrong, so why..?

He grits his teeth. The answer has been festering in his mind for days now like a poison trying to eat away at his whole body. 

(He knows. Oh, he knows why, but it isn't right. Nothing is right. So, he lets himself keep retching and denying.)

.

Retching

.

Denying

.

KNOCK

His head whips toward his door, a terrible idea with the killer headache storming in his skull, and listens. He doesn’t trust what he will do if another friendclassmate checks up on him so soon, so he holds his breath to pretend he simply doesn’t exist. As if that has ever solved his problems before.

“Master Rean? May I come in?”

Enforcer IX— No, what is his head doing? That’s Sharon. 

Added with the muddling confusion of how his mind begins to not feel like it belongs to himself, he debates whether or not to allow the maid in. With the mess he’s currently in, he obviously shouldn’t let anyone see him, but he opens his eyes and—

It’s bright. He remembers gripping Elliot’s wrist hard enough to cause bruising. He remembers hiding from Elliot to stop himself from doing any more damage, while checking up on the teen from afar to make sure he didn’t actually break his arm. He remembers the sun setting when he returned to the dorms, and he remembers his re-encounter with his classmates causing his stomach to act up again. Since then, he had gone directly to his room to hurl more spit and acid into his trash can. 

He doesn’t remember sleeping. Perhaps those flashes of memories here and there could serve as a replacement, but all he remembers is pitifully hugging his trashcan and literally throwing his guts up until now. It hasn’t seemed like much time passed.

By all means, it shouldn’t be morning right now.

But the rays of dawn are annoyingly peeking through his curtains. It’s the next day. It’s early morning. 

“Master Rean..?” Sharon sounds concerned. Rean has no idea why she sounds concerned when her top priority is to watch over Alisa, and he knows he's been purposely treating the girl like she’s the burden here. The maid should have no reason to be concerned over him. No one does. 

He needs to squash the worry.

“Sure,” he rasps, inflamed throat killing him as he kicks the trash can under his desk, although he’s sure that action does nothing to hide the foul smell. 

To her credit, Sharon doesn’t even flinch at the smell of vomit or the sight of Rean’s soiled top and sharp eyes. Instead, she looks around with her usual polite smile before stepping inside and closing his door, trapping herself with him.

A terrible idea. A former assassin and a monster in the same room together. Rean doesn’t know who’s more in danger right now. Doesn't know if he cares if he's the one in danger right now.

“Master Rean, I’ve noticed that you haven’t touched your share of dinner yesterday. It’s my duty as the caretaker of these dorms for every resident to be in their best shape, including taking care of everyone's nutritional status.” Only now does he notice the tray of food gracefully balanced on her left hand. “So please, Master Rean, eat.”

His stomach growls. Apparently he has forgotten to eat, but that’s not his priority. Instead, his mind latches onto her specific wording, immediately finding a loophole that would allow Sharon to forget about his diet.

“So, if I leave here, it wouldn’t be your duty to keep track of my nutrition?”

Sharon is typically extremely hard to read, her poker face nearly unmatched. This moment, however, he catches a glimpse of guardedness, and notices her back is tense. Rean wonders if he looks like he wants to pick a fight.

Albeit stiffly, she nods. “I suppose so.”

Memories conveniently flitter across his mind, of his classmates yelling outside his door yesterday about the ghost and how Sara suggested to them that they could temporarily stay somewhere else because of the threat. He immediately decides to take this offer as soon as he can. It will stop Sharon from bothering him. It will give Class VII less opportunities to bother him. 

Reaching his (trembling) hand out to the maid, he takes the plate.

The glass of water looks tolerable, but he feels sick looking at the rest of the plate, which is paradoxical because he’s so hungry. He knows Sharon’s cooking is delicious, but the sight of food draws focus to his burning throat.

“I’ll eat," he lies. "But I must admit I’m feeling unwell. Please tell my classmates that I would like to rest and not be disturbed.”

By the narrowing of her eyes, Sharon looks skeptical about something, but doesn’t share her thoughts. 

“...If that is what you wish, Master Rean.”

---

He knows he shows weakness when he talks to Sara. He can’t even look at her, knowing she wants to “save” him and knowing that he won’t let her. There’s nothing to be saved. This is his choice. The right choice. Even though his body starts betraying him, he knows this is right.

This is why he feels grounded when Sara asks about why he wants to leave the dormitory. “They’re bothering you? Or maybe… Someone’s forcing you to keep your distance?”

He has been telling himself the answer to that question a thousand times throughout this entire conversation like it's some kind of mantra, so he easily answers, “Only myself.”

He’s doing this to himself. It’s what he deserves.

(When has he ever gotten what he deserved?)

It’s his will. His choice. The right choice.

His choice.

…

The rest of the discussion is insignificant besides how Sara gives him permission to leave the dorms, so the memory of the conversation quickly becomes forgotten fragments. He focuses on his next step: Packing his belongings.

…And, it takes him longer than it should to remember what items he needs to bring. He paces across his room, often pausing to look at whatever exists before deciding it’s worth packing. School materials, clothes, toiletries—

A piece of paper falls when he picks up his field study journal. His eyebrows knit. 

Rean knows he's a mess, but he still has the decency to securely stuff all loose sheets of paper inside his notebooks or folders so he doesn't accidentally lose anything.

Bending down, he picks up the paper and unfolds it, wondering if it's anything actually important.

0000. Old Schoolhouse.

~ G

The handwriting is too precise, every repeated letter looking exactly the same, almost like it’s typed. There's no personality in any of the strokes other than the lack of imperfection. Rean knows a man who strives for perfect homogeneity. He knows a guy who works under that man, and whose name starts with a G.

THUMP

His hands immediately roll the paper into a wrinkly ball, and he tosses it in the trash he just cleaned. Then, he just leans against his wall, slowly sliding down until his thighs hit the floor. He doesn’t know how long he’s sitting, just gathering his breaths and remembering Master Ka-Fai’s teachings on how to clear his mind.

It doesn’t really work to calm him—especially when he’s already trying to not dwell on the past—but he eventually finds himself steady enough to be able to get up again and continue packing.

Once he's sure he has everything, he walks to his door. However, just as his hand is on the door handle, his eyes catch a glimpse of a small picture frame on his desk. 

He stiffens.

Deja vu.

He’s done this before, when he had to pack his things at home—whatever home is—and leave for school. He remembers the feeling of 'stuckness' while trying to decide whether or not to bring it along.

To think the struggle would end up being a waste of conscious effort.

Rean’s so wrapped up in his mind that he doesn’t notice there’s someone banging on the other side of his door and yelling out his name in fear. He doesn’t notice until he finally looks away from the damned family picture and lets his hand finally open the door before it gets damaged. 

He’s suddenly face-to-face with Machias, who looks as pale as a ghost. The classmate stares at him with eyes wide with fear, entire body shaking like he’s about to explode. 

Even so, Rean prepares to zone out of this conversation, like with Sara’s. As long as he obtains his goal of getting the hell away from here, he’s ready to make this conversation as pointless as any—

“...can’t you at least show some sign that you’re alive earlier?

“...You haven’t been yourself. I was worried…

“Everything might seem hopeless to you right now.”

THUMP

His attention is immediately grasped when Machias implies that he might kill himself. 

His vision tints with red and his muscles tense with vengeful energy. He suddenly wants to unsheathe his tachi and he wants the cold steel of his blade to spill blood—

Rean catches himself. He feels like his pupils are shaking as he steers his mind away from these abrupt violent thoughts. He knows these furious thoughts. He’s had them before. 

These aren’t his thoughts. 

But, he can’t dwell on the realization for too long because his mind lingers on Machias’ offending statement. Rean can’t ignore that he has issues with it, issues that grip his heart so painfully that it could explode. 

No, Machias.

He will not kill himself. 

Absolutely not. Not again. He refuses to waste Dad’s efforts again. 

Such an assumption angers him so much that lying about hating everyone in Class VII isn’t as difficult as he thinks it would be. It comes doubly easier when all he has to do is repeat Alberich’s words. He doesn’t even flinch when he sees Machias’ breaths quicken, nor when his door is suddenly abused again and his classmate screams at his decision to move out of the dorms. 

Some part of Rean has the urge to stop everything he's doing from seeing his classmate grow agitated and panicked. However, why should he show sympathy when Machias is making such a big deal out of something so worthless? 

All things considered, Machias is the one who sounds like a complete idiot right now.

Perhaps it’s better this way, instead of having them coddle him because of some old issues he can’t escape. Why comfort something so worthless, meaningless, hopeless— 

Rean wants them to stop caring. That is the whole point of all of this. Keep them safe from his power. Keep them safe from when he eventually leaves. 

So, to end Machias’ stubborn desire to help him or whatever, he finds the right words:

“I won’t die.”

Seriously. He won’t. He refuses to let Dad down like that again. No one needs to worry about him again. He won’t. kill

himself.

So, stop worrying about him!

But, Machias is still stubborn and insists on worrying about him. Insists that Rean will do something that’s worth worrying about. Insists that he’s worth worrying about in general. 

Rean's not.

In fact, Machias should be worrying about himself! He’s here without a weapon, alone in the room with Rean. And Rean can feel his muscles twitching, his wrist inching toward the sword on his hip. He feels the electrifying anger within him fester in his heart again because Machias won't listen. And, he’s really craving to see some blood, as if such a sight could satisfy this aching stomach of his—

“If you get in my way, I will cut you down.”

He says it because he’s furious that Machias is so stubborn and refuses to back down. He says it with finality because it’s true. He can feel the proof; his grasp on his power is loose, just like Alberich had said. That’s the only reason why his mind is obviously trying to trick him, tempt him to do the very thing he definitely does not want to do.

But he could.

Images of the dead jaegers staining the snow with their blood invades his mind's eye, soon replaced by the haunting visions of his classmates all dead in that nightmare not so long ago.

He can’t let that happen. He refuses to let that happen.

(His own death could prevent it.)

Before his dominant hand gets any ideas, he grabs his packed items and walks past Machias, catching a glimpse of how the usual indignant flames in those lime green eyes have been snuffed out, replaced by horrors Rean cannot see.

His pathetic heart sinks when he chooses to ignore this.

(He… doesn't want to do this.) 

He feels like their roles had been reversed some time ago, but with Machias actually trying to calm him down like a good friend. Cold ignorance is apparently how Rean repays it. So, with every step he takes away from Machias, away from Class VII dorms, he feels something shatter inside.

Six more to go.

---

On the night of the same day, his plan to move into the noble dormitory goes smoothly—

“Oh my, if it isn’t Rean? Are you so ashamed of your class having to save you that you’ve had to run away from them? What a smart decision!”

—As smoothly as it can with Alphonse immediately mocking him, coupled with a harsh shove against the shoulder. At this point, Rean doesn’t care about whatever hatred Alphonse spews out of his mouth; none of it holds a candle of the irritation to Class VII’s stubbornness and optimism.

However, speaking of hate, he can sense so much of it. With Ishmelga’s powers running wildly close to the surface, some of its passive abilities are in effect again. It's probably why he still has energy despite not eating or sleeping. It's definitely the reason he could start sensing black misty swirls of malice, normally invisible to the naked eye, emanating around Alphonse’s being.

He has sensed it before with that S woman back in Bareahard. He has sensed it before with both her and G at Nord. He’s sensing it now with Alphonse, and this noble is filled with hatred. 

Unfortunately, however, as much as he usually appreciates Alphonse’s feelings, this isn’t good.

Ishmelga’s curse on him responds to hatred. It grows from hatred . It lives and thrives on h at re d .

Being around Alphonse, who is brimming with such an emotion, only makes this deranged power more unstable, further tightening around his chest and making him gasp. If Rean’s mere existence feeds into Alphonse’s hate which feeds into Ishmelga’s power, then they would be stuck in an infinite toxic feedback loop where they both lose more control over themselves until one of them bursts.

Thankfully, his room is at the far end, opposite of where Alphonse’s room is. So, he turns away and goes to his room, ignoring the disgruntled stares of the noble bystanders around. More terrible emotions for no reason. This place is full of it. Erebonia is teeming with it.

He tosses his extra clothes in the closet, having no care for folding or hanging them. He leaves his untouched homework in his bag and dumps all the toiletries around the sink in his bathroom. 

He then lets himself collapse to his knees in the middle of his room, trying to meditate, trying again to listen to Master Ka-Fai’s old words that used to give him peace.

…

He still can't focus on them. This frazzling power is ricocheting off the inner walls of his body, quaking his mind with demands to be released. It’s impossible to concentrate like this. It’s impossible to breathe like this. He’s going insane like this.

It needs to be let out.

So, he takes his sword.

Opens the window and jumps 

out

Deftly lands on a tree and then the ground. Runs. 

He has no direction for where he wants to go. He just lets the wind hit his face and lets his energy out with the exercise, in hopes that it would calm the curse down just a bit. 

When his feet stop in front of the Old Schoolhouse, he isn’t too surprised. Somewhere inside himself, he’s drawn to this building. He can’t escape the pull. Nor can he ignore the fact that there are a bunch of monsters he can endlessly kill in here while night passes.

Nothing will disturb him as he cuts and slices and stabs—

“I’m surprised you’re here.”

Rean curses inwardly to himself as soon as he realizes who’s here. 

It’s midnight, isn’t it? And he has gone to the Old Schoolhouse. This is the exact meeting place and time as stated in that note, isn’t it?

Stiffly, he turns to the source of the monotonous voice and finds George. However, the eyes are lacking the usual friendliness, stripped of their will. In a different sense, it looks familiar to Rean, but he keeps the memories at bay as he focuses on his upperclassman— or rather, Georg, agent of the Black Workshop.

“What do you want?” Rean growls, impatient and not happy to be approached by the gnome. He already knows the conversation will be anything but pleasant, and the curse living within him is only more encouraged to lash out and violently beg to get out— 

“I’m just here to deliver a proposal,” Georg starts and smiles so hollowly. Rean doesn’t want to hear it, so his foot immediately pivots as he turns to walk toward the Old Schoolhouse. “We’ve noticed that your classmates are giving you trouble in doing what needs to be done…”

Rean knows where this is going. After the conversation with Machias earlier, he really does not need to hear this. He wants to close his ears.

“With how much you care about your classmates, we know that you won’t intentionally harm them, so there’s no point in doing the obvious first option.”

Disgusting. His hand twitches at the suggestion. The image of Georg blurs at the suggestion. The crimson filter is back. A haunting dream plays behind his eyes.

“But then, since you need this bond to be severed beyond repair, there’s only one other option…”

Georg’s head tilts slightly, almost innocently. A stark contrast to how his lips twist up maliciously and his brown eyes twinkle with frigid sharpness. A chill runs up Rean’s spine because he knows the gnome is supposed to be a constant face of nonchalance. Georg shouldn’t look like this—

Rean blinks. 

Then, the sadistic expression on Georg disappears, replaced by the usual cold indifference. The distortion between reality and illusion leaves him completely unprepared for when Georg stops humming and speaks again.

“...Why don’t you just kill yourself?”

—THUMP    

Unlike with Machias, this isn’t an assumption. It’s a suggestion.

But, instead of feeling frustration and anger build up, he suddenly feels grounded. His breathing evens, his hands still. The colors before him return to normal as his vision clears. It’s almost like he’s at pea—

No. How many times does he have to repeat in his mind that he refuses to die, and he refuses to entertain such a damned thought—

“Let Rean Schwarzer die. We’ll revive you.”

His heart stops. For just a moment. 

And then something snaps.  

Rean chuckles. He can’t help it. He’s spiraling and he knows he can barely do anything to help himself. Plus, it’s funny, he thinks, that this guy can talk as if he knows who Rean Schwarzer is. As if he knows who he is. 

“Who will die?” His voice is sharp and tight. Possibly even ridiculing. “And who am I?”

For once, Georg looks caught off guard, and perhaps a little wary that Rean’s laughing at something that probably isn’t funny at all. Still, with no hesitation, he answers, “You are Lord Ishmelga’s vessel. Everything outside of that can be erased.”

THUMP

  .̸̛̪̦͖̘̜͔̯́̓̅͐͐̄̏͊̿̐͘̚̚͜͠   .̸̢̠͓̭̓̀̌͝   .̴̧̣͍̩͊͗́͌̓̐̆́̒̈́̚̕   .̷̡̩̣̠̣̪̹̥̖̼̳̳͍̭̠̖̰̐̑́̈́̓̒   .̷   .̴̢͝   .̸͇̣̬͓̠́̾

Please, my son…

It had been a few days since he was awakened from his coma. Despite how his body had only deteriorated for the past two years, he recovered quickly, probably due to the curse. During these days, Dad told him everything, especially the details of why he was working with Ishmelga and what his end goal was.

Rean didn't think it was possible to admire the man even more than he already did. Dad had planned everything out. He was only biding his time and letting the pieces find their place on the board. He was sacrificing so much, and he only had one request…

I need you to survive… I want you to live.

Rean let his eyes close softly in consideration. He already regretted killing himself, especially since it made his dad so disappointed. Plus, since he failed to die twice already, maybe it wouldn’t be so hard to survive. 

But, to live..?

Was it called living when he had to spend every minute of his life in fear and hatred of himself..?

Rean could only reluctantly nod in response, to which Dad's frown slightly deepened. Then, unexpectedly, he gave Rean a choice. To choose between continuing his peaceful life with the Schwarzers or to join the dark, messy path Dad was carving for himself.

The choice was obvious.

“Of course. I’ll always stay by your side. No matter what.”

.̵̢̰͈̱̩͓͑.̶̨͇̳̻̝̬͓̻̺̰̹͙͓̫̪̓̄́̋́͘ͅ    .̷͙̮̗̟̥̓͒̈́̄́̈́̍̄̌̐̾̓̾̐̓̄̈́̇̐͋̉̈͆͘̚ͅ   .̷̮̕ ̷͇͔͈̫̣̂̍͗̎   .̴̸̢̡̧̦̣͔̗͎̲̣͈̥͙͉̱̲̙̥͓͖̘͍̤̦͊̀̋    .̸̛̟̻̳̝͉̘͐̀̅̔͊̿̈́͘   .̷̨͈͍͙̪͂͠͠   .̶̜̰̝̺͍̰̘̭͌̀̌̔́̃̕͝ 

S̵l̴i̴c̶e̵— 

—    -Slash

Carve

Cut

Cut

Cut

.

THUMP

.

He has eliminated every living thing in sight inside the Old Schoolhouse. Every room and hall is hauntingly empty. Only the hollow echoes of his footsteps and his heavy breathing accompany him as he is left utterly alone in this eerie dungeon. This fact that he caused this place to be so devoid of life doesn’t help him argue in his head that he isn't Ishmelga’s.

He isn’t. Or, he at least isn’t going to fulfill the role of Ishmelga’s vessel. He's only going to fulfill Dad’s true orders, none of which involve making him a useful vessel to Ishmelga.

He's on Dad's side. That's all.

In the center of his chaos-filled mind, this is one thing he knows for certain. So, he won’t kill himself. He won’t let himself be revived into a puppet. He’ll just control his murderous urges by directing them all to these monsters… which are all dead.

Sigh. His muscles are still roaring with chaotic energy. They all died too soon. What is he going to kill now—

(There’s still one more monster—

  CU T

Pain starts to blossom in his left forearm.

Damnit. How did he…

Didn't he say he wasn’t going to—

DRIP… 

DROP…

The cursed energy is ebbing and fading away like the crimson liquid he's losing, finally replaced by tiring aches in his muscles. The cut isn't deep but there's blood. And with blood trailing down from his fingertips to the floor, he feels his thirst to spill blood has finally been quenched.

This is g—

No! How many times does he have to remind himself?!

This isn’t good.

Rean knows what self-harm can eventually spiral and twist into. He knows he can't go down this path. He knows this is what Ishmelga wants. So, he immediately grabs his ARCUS, heals the wound up until the bleeding stops and pretends this never happened.

Even if the action has apparently calmed himself, he can’t let this become a habit. The fact that Georg—and the Black Workshop and Ishmelga by extension—are completely okay with him dying, he really can't let himself do this.

He can't make Dad more sad! He can't mess up any more plans..!

So, he leaves. Away from where he spilt his own blood. Away from the Old Schoolhouse which hollowly calls his name. He moves until he's back at his new dormitory and inside his new room.

He cleans himself up then flops onto his bed, ashamed and exhausted. He hopes his mind will be so tired that it won't bring any nightmares or even dreams when he sleeps.

…If he sleeps.

An hour passes and he finds himself absolutely unable to sleep despite how heavy his eyes are. Another contradiction. 

He isn't sleeping… 

He isn't eating… 

Is he even human anymore? 

Is he even alive? Is he… dying or—

His alarm rings. That’s supposed to mean that a new day has begun but, without sleep, the days are all bleeding into each other. Rean feels like the day he personally talked with Alberich has not ended yet. 

At this rate, the day will never truly end for him. There is only one end, and it’s—

Stop it.

Managing to ignore his chaotic thoughts for a moment, he goes on with his morning routine. He tidies himself as best as possible and then grabs his stuff for school (he’s lucky that no homework is due today). Then, he opens his door.

The door from the room across from him opens at the same time.

“Gah— Schwarzer!”

It’s just Patrick. The noble takes one step back with his arms somewhat raised defensively, as if he’s ready to run at any moment. He’s clearly trying to avoid him, something Rean doesn’t mind at all.

Without a meaningful glance, Rean turns and walks down the hall. Or, he would, if not for the cluster of noble students blocking the way. He had sensed this gathering of people before he opened his door, but he hadn’t thought anything of it. Now, however, after seeing every single one of them face him with contemptful glares and crossed arms, he realizes that this group is here for him.

Rean is clearly not welcomed by some of the residents here. Luckily, he doesn’t care at the moment. 

“Fake noble, you don’t belong here! Get out of our prestigious dormitory!” exclaims some girl at the front of the crowd. Rean doesn’t know if they have never met before or his mind’s messing with him again because he genuinely can’t recognize her.

Regardless, this doesn’t bother him too much. It reminds him of how the nobles spoke of him whenever they visited the Schwarzer Barony. At least in this case, he doesn’t have to worry about his family hearing this and feeling ashamed for keeping him. 

(All things considered though, he’s surprised that he survived three months of avoiding most of this. Perhaps it was another undeserving benefit from being surrounded by the members of Class VII.)

On the other hand, the negative emotions—the jealousy, disgust, and condescension—are suffocating. This is… too much. It's stirring his power out of its slumber. After the damned action he’s taken to calm it down, he thinks he’s growing annoyed about how easily his effort is being undone. 

“Hey! Don’t ignore us, you lowly—”

“—Don’t think you’re so superior because you’re friends with Arseid and Alberea—”

Their voices are making his head hurt…

“—Just because you got one lucky shot on Hyarms doesn’t mean you get to act all high and mighty—”

“—Speaking of the duel, there should be a rematch. You were lucky last time, but we’ll get a clean victory this time—”

Shut up…

“—Yes! Let’s show Schwarzer he’s not such a hot shot—”

“—(I mean, he kind of is)—”

Rean heads straight for the stairs, but then a couple of male nobles block his way. He immediately squashes the tempting thought of pushing them down the stairs, and chooses instead to silently question them for an explanation. They only smirk and point behind him, towards Patrick who looks unimpressed.

“—Hyarms! Bring your sword out! Settle it with Schwarzer once and for all!”

”Are you all blind?” Patrick's voice suddenly breaks through all the other voices, sounding all confident and unrelenting, a stark contrast to his pitifulgreeting earlier. “Schwarzer beat me fair and square; I would be an insane fool to challenge him again when I know the gap in our strengths. Fortunately, I am a proud noble, not a hopeless fool.” For a brief moment, their eyes meet, only for Patrick to immediately turn away and scowl. “However, if you are truly not satisfied with the results of the duel, go ahead and challenge him yourselves. Do not drag me into this.”

Unhappy mumbles rivet through the crowd, but no one dares to step forward to the challenge. With that, Patrick scoffs and walks past the crowd and down the stairs, leaving Rean alone with all these pensive nobles. Not wanting to wait for them to get any ideas, he retreats into his room, closes the door, and decides to leave through the window.

It turns out to be a great idea because he can sense and hear Jusis and Laura at the front of the building, talking to a dumbfounded Patrick about how they will be moving into these dorms as well.

Obviously, they’re moving in because of him.

Obviously, they’re fools.

---

Despite the change in living arrangements and all the drama Rean must’ve caused for Machias, he’s surprised that Class VII decides to actually keep their distance from him. There is no more of anyone chasing after him whenever he leaves. There is no more confrontation whenever there is an opportunity. Not even Laura and Jusis take advantage when they all live in the same dorm as him. Rean is left blissfully alone by his classmates. 

Georg was wrong. No one had to die to produce favorable outcomes. Sure, he still feels the burning worried gazes of his classmates but, if Class VII continues to act like this, all will be fine. 

The upperclassmen are a different story. 

He knows Towa is hunting him down to the ends of Zemuria. He knows that she’s worried about him, as she tends to get worried about every big and little thing in this world. He knows she wants to talk about his self-isolation and dismissal of requests he used to always get from the student council. 

With Towa like this, it’s inevitable for her friends to try to get on his case too. Of the four, Rean most definitely does not want to see George. It doesn’t matter if he’s not hypnotized at the moment, Rean doesn’t want to risk seeing the sudden shift from student to gnome agent, and then possibly hearing something that will make him spiral again. 

The second most person he doesn’t want to be confronted by is Towa, only because she worries too much. 

So, when someone actually manages to catch him while he’s hellbent on hiding himself away from everyone, he’s glad it’s Angelica.

“Towa fainted from exhaustion because of you.”

Those harsh, cold words make Rean's borrowed heart drop to the floor.

“I’m just kidding~” Angelica suddenly laughs as she immediately closes the distance between them and leans against his shoulder before he can recover from shock. Her eyes, sharp as a wolf's fangs, see right through him. “Man, you should’ve seen the look on your face! I didn't think a guy who acts like he doesn’t care would ever make a face like that!”

Rean shrugs her off and the woman gracefully twirls with a couple pivots of her feet, never losing balance. She grins dangerously at him as she puts a hand on her hip. 

“Hey, no need to get all defensive now~ I’ll keep your secret.”

Rean doesn’t find that believable. This woman would do almost anything for Towa, and that includes ending her worries one way or the other. He is undoubtedly making the Student Council President worried, and that should make him Angelica’s enemy.

“I’m serious.” It seems like she can read his mind now. “I have no problems if you want to d̶i̷e̵.”

…Huh? 

He blinks in shock and a word finally falls from his lips for the first time in this conversation.

“What?”

He wonders what expression he’s making when Angelica rapidly blinks back, clearly confused by his reaction. “I said that I have no problems if this change is your choice.”

O- Oh. 

“After all, that means you can stay away from Towa and lessen the chances of her falling in love with you!” 

Rean isn’t fooled by the obvious joke and silently stares at her for a real explanation. With a shrug and a sigh, probably disappointed that he isn’t playing along with her game, Angelica looks to the side and closes her eyes. The mischief in her tone disappears and is replaced by seriousness. 

“Well, and I know what it's like to do something no one wants you to do.”

Rean almost digs into his mind about what he knows about the Rogners, but quickly realizes that any noble lady with Angelica’s personality would most likely not be at peace with her upbringing. 

“I like being free to do whatever the hell I want,” she continues, brows relaxing as she turns back to face him directly. “If whatever the hell you’re doing right now is your free will, I can’t judge.”

How oddly… considerate of her.

The smirk returns to her face as a roguish glint gleams in her sharp eyes. “Gotta warn you though, if other people have a will that clashes with yours, I won't be rooting for you. And, if your resolve ends up being the weaker one, you will be the one who bends. At least, that’s what my master told me.”

Angelica reaches her hand out, and Rean steps away before she can pat his shoulder. The confident smirk still on her face shows that she isn't fazed by his reaction. 

“Your master, huh?” Rean says before he thinks. The conversation slightly reminds him of some teachings from Master Ka-Fai, and he can’t help but chase after the memories to help keep his insanity at bay. There are some teachings that could calm him down, he just needs to…

“Yep. She definitely had a bunch of wise words that went over my head back then,” Angelica closes her eyes and nods proudly. “But, seeing you, some of her teachings are starting to make sense.”

Seeing me?

“You’re doing a pretty good job at hiding it, but you kinda look like you’re suffering.”

Obviously, he isn’t doing a good enough job at hiding it if she can tell, although he isn’t going to confirm her observations.

“And you know what she told me is the first step to clearing away your suffering? It's having the right view: Being able to see the world and everything in it as it really is, not as what you believe it to be or want it to be.”

̷͇͔͈̫̣̂̍͗̎     ̷͊͜    ̵̯̾     ̴̢̛͈̂̀̑    ̶̧̨̝̀̎͛̇̚͜    ̴͕̩̏̒͠   .̵̢̰͈̱̩͓͑ 

“First, you must clear your path of confusion and deluded thinking. You must gain the right understanding of reality… 

"To be able to clear yourself of bias and preconceived notions will allow you to unlock the Unclouded Eye. This is just one of the many steps to…”

.̴̢͝   .̸̦͖̦̙̫̜̪̒̇̆̒    ̵̯̾     ̴̢̛͈̂̀̑    ̶̧̨̝̀̎͛̇̚͜    ̴͕̩̏̒͠   .

It's muddling. After so long, the memory of the teaching finally comes back to him and calms his heart just a bit. He feels like he remembered how to breathe correctly again. A long inhale through the nostrils, then hold. Slowly exhale, then hold. Repeat. It’s such a nice feeling that he almost forgets he’s supposed to be keeping to himself.

Almost.

“I have a pretty good hunch that you aren’t seeing right at the moment,” Angelica hums, staring at him knowingly, like they’re disciples of a similar craft. “I can see it in your eyes.”

With a sharp inhale, he grits out, “That’s quite an assumption to make, coming from someone who pretends to be carefree while escaping from her own reality.” It’s a low blow, to abruptly bring up Angelica’s personal issues, but… Rean really doesn’t like what Angelica is insinuating here.

He’s not deluded. He knows reality even though his head feels very light at the moment. He knows his willpower will be stronger than anything Class VII throws at him. After all, he’s finally back on the right path.

So, he steps away before Angelica can respond.

And steps away before he has another thought.

Steps away.

Away.

And away.

Until he’s out of sight.

Until he stumbles— 

THUD

.̵̢̰͈̱̩͓͑ ̴̜͚̜̈́͗̍̈́̈̃͜͝   .̸͙̉ ̶̢̎   .̷̮̕ ̷͇͔͈̫̣̂̍͗̎   .̴̸̧̧̧̜̥͈̻͓͇͚̯̣̠̯͕̞̹̦̅̒̒͆͗́͒͐̒̎̍̌͗̈̇̌̿̓̀̋͜͜͝͠    .̴̡̢̝͙͚̳͔̥͈̼̮͛͌̇͋̔̓̊̏̄̎̏̔͋̕͜͠   .̷̡̦͕̟͇͈̼̟̮̼͓̹̩̗͍̭̥̙͇͙̿͜͝ͅ

“Look who has returned to my side.”

Rean Osborne would’ve stood tall with courage and unbreakable resolve. He’d always fantasized a day where he would come across a great evil and slay it with a shining sword. He’d always wanted this when his mom told him stories about Dad’s heroic deeds, and this desire was only amplified when Dad saved him from being kidnapped in Heimdallr. 

In the face of something like Ishmelga, Rean Osborne imagined he would not cower, being so filled with courageous fire. He imagined he would always be ready with witty comebacks during their pre-battle conversation and never relent in the inevitable fight between steel and steel. He would be the awesome hero that could’ve stepped out of a fairy tale.

Rean Osborne would never agree or consent to working with a cursed entity— Would never accept a plan that would involve plunging the world into chaos and despair. He would’ve found another way, or at least be kicking and screaming like a toddler if he was forced.

But alas, he was just Rean, unworthy of any honorable last name. His old self died with his original heart, along with his ideals.

So, he chose this: To be given a purpose by the monsters known as “Chancellor Gilliath Osborne” and the manifestation of human sin.

“What’s with that face? It’s not my fault you seek this.”

Ishmelga was right, but he couldn't control how his heavy heart was pounding so agonizingly hard and fast. The shapeless form of Ishmelga and everything around them were blurring until darkness eroded his vision. He knew where he was and he knew what he had been doing up until now, but his eyes weren’t working. So, his brain decided to fill the gaps with visions of his memories as this cursed being waited for an answer. 

Rean said nothing. Didn’t know what to say when he couldn’t hear his own thoughts over his beating heart. Couldn’t even let his impulsive emotions loose when they were a swirling vortex of fear, fear, and fear.

Still, he could do this. 

For Dad. 

“I see you’re still weak. So very, very weak. But that shall be fixed now.”

There was a pricklish, creeping sensation that made his skin rise as he felt Ishmelga's form hover over him. Laying on the cold metal table, Rean finally couldn’t stop himself from tensing up.

“Stay still,” Black Alberich hissed, standing over him as he held his chin and carefully moved the pure white mask closer and closer until it was fixed onto his face. It felt like steel. 

Heavy, cold, and unyielding.

THUMP 

Yet, it felt… nice.

His heart was calming down, like it was finally in control after so many years. His body no longer felt like deadweight, energy surging through him to give him the strength that had been lost for a couple of years. His mind was no longer swirling with so many useless thoughts which involved his fears, his hatred, and his longing. At the forefront of his mind was just a simple purpose which he had been void of for so long, something he needed to keep moving forward.

Even if the purpose partially came from Ishmelga, who wanted him to destroy every little thing in His way, he finally found some form of peace. 

He could finally move forward.

.̵̢̰͈̱̩͓͑.̶̨͇̳̻̝̬͓̻̺̰̹͙͓̫̪̓̄́̋́͘ͅ    .̷͙̮̗̟̥̓͒̈́̄́̈́̍̄̌̐̾̓̾̐̓̄̈́̇̐͋̉̈͆͘̚ͅ   .̷̮̕ ̷͇͔͈̫̣̂̍͗̎   .̴̸̢̡̧̦̣͔̗͎̲̣͈̥͙͉̱̲̙̥͓͖̘͍̤̦͊̀̋    .̸̛̟̻̳̝͉̘͐̀̅̔͊̿̈́͘   .̷̨͈͍͙̪͂͠͠   .̶̜̰̝̺͍̰̘̭͌̀̌̔́̃̕͝ 

Keep going. Keep on going…

Another few days pass without it feeling like any day passes. There’s always a blur. Spin. Red. Pain in his head. His heart. Sometimes he falls. Sometimes he blanks out. It's a hassle how his body sabotages him whenever he mindlessly does his school assignments in the confines of his room, but at least no one is around to witness it.

It’s much worse when I’m alone

Since this happens all the time now, all its impact is becoming lost; he's getting used to it. It doesn’t matter. It's not worrying. It’s not so bad to feel like this anymore. He’s okay.

It hurts

He must be, since no one bothers him anymore. The nobles at the dorms have been quiet ever since Jusis and Laura moved in. Class VII has practically faded into the background because he’s managed to avoid most conversation and eye-contact with them. Not having to constantly think about them has almost made him forget why he feels so threatened by them. 

It’s so peaceful. 

I’m so tired

Everything is absolutely okay. 

I can’t handle this

RING

The ARCUS unceremoniously falls to the floor, having been dropped from a hand that feels like it has been burned. He doesn’t mean to call the forbidden number. He doesn’t know why he does. He should be getting in contact with Dad instead, giving him updates about what’s happening, but

I don’t want to burden him

CLICK  

“Arianrhod speaking.”

Despite how his lungs briefly stop functioning, he’s still okay.

help

After a long silence on his part, the voice speaks again, “Hello?”

He’s still okay…

— make it stop…

Another long silence ensues. He wonders if she hung up because this is a complete waste of time. However, before he grabs his ARCUS, her calming voice chimes through once again.

“...Rean?”

He ends the call immediately with a jab of his fingers, choking on his own breaths. He’s fine. Completely absolutely fine. He definitely doesn’t think of the past they share, of all the times she sheltered him and told him everything was going to be fine. He certainly doesn’t wish that she could materialize right in front of him and make everything feel better like she used to. He clearly doesn’t need to hold onto someone and scream that he can’t live with the chaos inside him.

Surely, he thinks none of those stupid things, because he’s just fine. And because he’s fine, he will keep moving and moving until he’s served his purpose. He will not

can I just—

stop

  .̸̛̪̦͖̘̜͔̯́̓̅͐͐̄̏͊̿̐͘̚̚͜͠   .̸̢̠͓̭̓̀̌͝   .̴̧̣͍̩͊͗́͌̓̐̆́̒̈́̚̕   .̷̡̩̣̠̣̪̹̥̖̼̳̳͍̭̠̖̰̐̑́̈́̓̒   .̷   .̴̢͝   .̸͇̣̬͓̠́̾

“Why are you stopping me?”

The smell of smoke dances in the air. His blade is stopped mid-swing, managing to do no more than draw a drop of blood from the brown-haired man’s neck. He would have been successful in ending a life, if not for the intervention from Black Rabbit’s puppet. The trembling, black gauntlets of the puppet’s arms are pushing against his double-edged sword as the girl pleads without breaking through her own stoney expression. 

“Elimination of the targets, Lloyd Bannings and Rixia Mao, is not part of the objective.”

It may not be part of her orders, but this certainly falls within his duties. These two are in His way; therefore, they must disappear.  

While Altina speaks, Lloyd takes advantage of the opportunity to leap back, grabbing the two tonfas on the ground. The determined flames in his gaze are still unwavering. Rixia stands a few arge away with the same look, exhaling in relief as she readies her weapon in spite of the long gash on her arm.

They have fallen, but they know how to rise up again. They stand in His way. Again.

(He envies them).

Scarlet eyes glower at them. This fight isn’t over. 

Meanwhile, Altina is still talking to him, telling him to lower his weapon because they have already completed their objective. She’s still trying to keep his sword at bay with her puppet. She still has little tears in her bright green eyes, threatening to fall. 

Seeing this, he feels nothing. 

Altina should feel nothing as well. Instead, she’s getting emotional over this, which is strange for the homunculus. This unusualness compels him to at least listen to the last bit of what she says and assess why she's upset.

“—You said you never wanted to kill anyone ever again.”

His eyes narrow in confusion and the force he pours into his weapon weakens. He doesn’t remember ever telling her such a thing.

Hell, he barely remembers why he’s fighting in the first place.

Not like the reasons matter, as long as it’s Lord Ishmelga’s will—

.̴̱̩̭̊́͌͆̊̀̉̂͘   .̴̡̢̝͙͚̳͔̥͈̼̮͛͌̇͋̔̓̊̏̄̎̏̔͋̕͜͠ T.̴̢̡̦̣͔̗͎̲̣͈̥͙͉̱̲̙̥͓͖̘͍̤͊HUMP ̴͕̩̏̒͠  .̷̢̡̢̖̻̯͚͆̌̉͛̒̍̚͠   .̷̱͂̈́͌̂́̑̉̍̌͐̓̽̅̒͝͝

Inhale, exhale.

His teeth grit, hissing out another curse.

Inhale. Exhale.

He can’t focus. He still can’t—

Inhale. Hold. Exhale. Hold.

Papers and pens are swept up into the air and scatter about as they rain down to the floor. One paper manages to swing just the right way, edge grazing his cheek. The papercut slightly stings, affirming to him that the chaos he’s causing in his room is reality, not soothing his worries at all.

If this is reality, then what was that vision with Altina and characters he's read from Crossbell-related news? He doesn’t remember sleeping or waking up. How can he be plagued with nightmares without being granted some mercy of rest? That can’t be fair.

Inhale… Exhale.

His ARCUS is ringing, somewhere on the floor, buried beneath the papers. It gives him something to focus on, as well as something else to direct his anxieties toward. It’s better than looking at his tachi, which innocently rests against his bed. He just needs…

Inhale, exha—

His eyes catch a full-body mirror by his door. It’s cracked. He doesn’t know how long it’s been damaged or what caused it to break, but he sees something unsettling in the broken shards. He sees his—

 .̸̛̥̖̂̅ .̷̡̩̣̠̣̪̹̥̖̼̳̳͍̭̠̖̰̐̑́̈́̓̒   ̶̛͇̻͔̪̦͉̲̈́͐͐̓̄͝ .̸̢̠͓̭̓̀̌͝   ̵͚͙̓͊ .̴̧̣͍̩͊͗́͌̓̐̆́̒̈́̚̕  ̶ .̸̛̥̖̂̅   ̴͎͖̦̹̪̥̈͆́̒ .̷͙̮̗̟̥̓͒̈́̄́̈́̍̄̌̐̾̓̾̐̓̄̈́̇̐͋̉̈͆͘̚ͅ   ̵̝͒ .̶̜̰̝̺͍̰̘̭͌̀̌̔́̃̕͝   .̶̺̭̦͓͕͔̌̓͌̀̾ͅ

—hands soaked in blood. 

He’s strong. Every kill is proof of that, and he’s worked so hard to kill many. He’s even done everything Ishmelga told him to do so he could get stronger, so why… Why is the woman with golden hair looking at him so pitifully?

The only positive affirmation he gets is Ishemelga’s cackling in the background as the lady takes the corpse—the proof of his strength—away from him. She holds it with respect, trying to maintain whatever’s left of the creature’s dignity as she gently lays it down into the ground.

It’s strange. Her movements, her presence reminds him of someone he once cared about. It’s hard to remember who that someone is when his mind has been solely preoccupied with getting stronger in the past however many years, but he knows he longs for someone to hold him gently like that.

He continues to stare at the woman intently, wondering why she shows that much care for a corpse. Was that her pet or something?

Black eyebrows knit together in confusion. The confusion spreads to his fingers, which dig into the ground.

“Did you… care about that bird?” his asks, nervousness creeping into his voice for a reason he can’t discern.

The woman turns to face him. There’s a tear trailing down from one eye. The answer is clear. She cares about this bird which is dead. Dead because of him.

Dead because of him.

Those words ring loudly, mournfully in his head. There is someone else who died because of him. He’s not thinking about the monsters and animals slain by his hand, he’s thinking of a person who died because he let go of her hand…

THUMP

Ishmelga stops cackling

.̵̢̰͈̱̩͓͑.̶̨͇̳̻̝̬͓̻̺̰̹͙͓̫̪̓̄́̋́͘ͅ    .̷͙̮̗̟̥̓͒̈́̄́̈́̍̄̌̐̾̓̾̐̓̄̈́̇̐͋̉̈͆͘̚ͅ   .̷̮̕ ̷͇͔͈̫̣̂̍͗̎   .̴̸̢̡̧̦̣͔̗͎̲̣͈̥͙͉̱̲̙̥͓͖̘͍̤̦͊̀̋    .̸̛̟̻̳̝͉̘͐̀̅̔͊̿̈́͘   .̷̨͈͍͙̪͂͠͠   .̶̜̰̝̺͍̰̘̭͌̀̌̔́̃̕͝ 

I’m fine.

“It appears that you are still a terrible liar. Are you truly convinced that anyone will believe you?”

liar

believe 

“Why would you care? I don’t expect you to do anything about it.”

care

anything

“On the contrary, my vessel. There is still some use of you left for me.”

vessel

you

left

me

"There isn't."

Hmph, if you desire that to be true, then know that you are doomed to keep on moving, forever standing. For whenever you begin falling…”

moving

standing

falling

“...I will catch you.”

You   

 

will   

 

catch   

 

me

.̷̢̗̰͈̹̜̤͎̙͚͍̻̙͈̈́͛̾̅͒̑̿͐̏̍̍́͛̀   ̶͉͎̺͒́̉̉ .̵̢̰͈̱̩͓͑.̶̨͇̳̻̝̬͓̻̺̰̹͙͓̫̪̓̄́̋́͘ͅ    ̸̘̿ .̷͙̮̗̟̥̓͒̈́̄́̈́̍̄̌̐̾̓̾̐̓̄̈́̇̐͋̉̈͆͘̚ͅ    .̵̢͈̝̳͔͎͉̪͈̤̗͉̺̝̗̂͒̇̌́̔͊͗̄̄͋͒̐̄͌̄̃͑̾͌̈́̈́͌̋̌̃͘̕͜͜͠͝͝  .̷̮̕ ̷͇͔͈̫̣̂̍͗̎   .̴̸̢̡̧̦̣͔̗͎̲̣͈̥͙͉̱̲̙̥͓͖̘͍̤̦͊̀̋   .̴̢̛̛̯͇͕̬̠̯̺͇̹͎̟̍́͛̿́̿̆̃͑̾̉̅̄̐̇͒͛̄͋̑͆͆͛̌̾͒̍̿̈́̓͗̎̔̓̈́͜͜͝͠   .̸̛̟̻̳̝͉̘͐̀̅̔͊̿̈́͘   .̷̨͈͍͙̪͂͠͠   .̶̜̰̝̺͍̰̘̭͌̀̌̔́̃̕͝   .̴̢̳̠͉̠̮̭̱̯̥̠̎   

His eyes flutter open.Turquoise is in his vision.

“—drink this!”

With a little more focus, the turquoise turns into Millium. She’s pressing a warm cup of liquid into his hands. 

“It’ll help you sleep!” she says, tone sounding slightly desperate.

Rean struggles to remember what exactly has been happening to lead up to this moment, struggles to focus on what exactly is happening now as Millium becomes a turquoise thing again. 

“Uh, Rean..?” the color asks him. He must be hallucinating if colors are speaking to him. No. Wait. It’s Millium. Or it’s just turquoise with two dots of gold.

In deep confusion, his eyebrows furrow at the image in front of him.

Millium? Turquoise? Turquoise. Turquoise… 

“Please?”

The politeness doesn’t convince him, but his ever-looming tiredness does. All he’s been wanting to do for a while now is sleep. If this thing will help him, why would he refuse? It’s not like turquoise is a threat. Turquoise is…

Without another thought, he takes the cup and drinks. He notes the liquid is somewhat bitter, but it feels refreshing when it pours down his achingly dry throat.

Time stops. Or, it feels like it does. Worries of the future and shadows from the past stop intruding in his every thought for once; with no past, present or future to think about,.time may as well have stopped for him.

He feels light, weightless even. Nothing is holding him down—or up, in this case—as gravity pulls his head backwards to the ground. He expects to feel pain from the impact, yet he doesn’t even have the mind to brace himself.

Air whooshes past him as he falls.

And falls.

For only a short time.

Instead of something hard, however, something soft catches him.

“Oh…” the color’s voice mutters nervously above him, though it sounds so distant. “I hope I didn’t put in too much…”

Unable to ponder too deeply on those words, his eyes flutter closed, gladly welcoming the darkness waiting for him.

Notes:

Yeah, I really had to split this chapter into two. Sure, this chapter doesn't have too much in it, but next chapter has all the action and TOO MUCH in it. Plus, with how his sanity goes up and down, it's probably better structured this way, haha. But hey, I suppose it's no surprise to have two giant chapters of pure suffering XD

I plan to release the next chapter soon (whenever I finish it), aka hopefully you don't have to wait another whole month. I think I might be able to manage it, but no promises lol.

Anyway, as you could probably tell, I experimented the heck out of the chapter. I'm not sorry because I'm definitely doing it again in the future. I will explain that the line break veiled in glitch/zalgo text usually indicates a to and out of a flashback or "hallucination." I used present tense just to show he's so messed up that he's breaking my consistency, (and note that the beginning flashbacks had past tense, but later become present tense to show that it's becoming hard to differentiate between present/reality and past/illusion.

If you got any questions, feel free to ask. This is probably the most intentionally and unintentionally confusing chapter I've written so far, so I want to clear up any unintentional confusion if possible lol.

---

To be continued in "Chapter 24 - Coin Toss: Tails"
In which Rean faces off against a hateful noble, a principal who knows too much, a homeroom teacher who doesn't have good answers, his classmates-not-friends, and his sister who thinks he's going to do the thing he promised to not do. Needless to say, it's a bit too much.

Thanks for reading and take care!

Chapter 24: Coin Toss: Tails

Notes:

I tried my best lol. All I have to honestly say is, if you manage to get through this insanity while making sense of most of it, kudos to you!

Warnings: Suicidal ideation, self-harm, the rhythm of Rean’s sanity looks like ventricular fibrillation, confusing things but things that happen with mental decline never really makes sense anyway, author is still experimenting

There's a leaf falling. It dances and twirls in the air, making green arcs this way and that way until it gently lands in the palm of Rean's hand. Blinking down at it, a relieved sigh escaping his mouth. 

His focus is back. He can focus on the present and on reality again. 

His memories of the past few days are fuzzy, but it seems his body has finally succumbed to sleep. It couldn't have been a long rest though, considering he woke up before dawn. Still, he can definitely say he's more well rested than he's been in a week. 

He feels safer with himself now. The thoughts aren't as… uncontrollable, nor is Ishmelga's power. Even after a whole school day passes, he isn't plagued by a single hallucination or flashback. 

It's nice. Just lounging in the branches among the treetops, feeling the gentle breeze brush against his hair is nice. It's like he's been given a second wind. Unfortunately, however, with every hour that passes, he feels Ishmelga's power grow slightly more unstable, so he knows his reprieve can't last long.

Goosebumps rise along his skin at the thought of going crazy again and being able to do nothing about it. His best shot is to figure out how he fell asleep in the first place if sleep is the thing that keeps him off the edge of insanity. If not, then finishing the Divine Knight trial without accidentally hurting someone will only be a dream.

All he remembers is waking up on his bed, alone in his room. His mirror was broken, glass shards shining warningly near its stand. His ARCUS was flipped open, buried under the sheets of paper strewn across the floor. Nothing else really seemed out of the ordinary, besides a bitter, strange taste in his mouth.

Only the last clue makes him suspect that he must've drank something, but… surely he would remember buying something with sleeping properties? Or at least have proof of it nearby when he had woken up?

He's stuck in his thoughts for a while, unsuccessfully grasping at his last conscious memory before he had fallen asleep. The sun is already setting when his sixth sense alerts him to people walking on the ground below him. 

"They really get on my nerves, acting like we're nothing."

“Maybe chucking Craig’s instrument down the stairwell will show them.”

"Maybe—"

“Quiet, are you all idiots? That’s only begging for trouble! If this is all you wish to speak about, then I'll take my leave! I want no part of these schemes!”

Rean blinks. It takes him a moment to realize they're talking about Elliot and the rest of the class. It takes him another moment to realize they're talking about hurting Elliot through destroying his violin.

Inhale… Exhale…  

Rean has been so calm and at peace. He can’t just—

THUMP

Just when he finally convinces himself that the members of Class VII are now background characters to him, he feels overprotective flames of some other side of him take the reins of his cursed heart. 

Muscles tense and shake. Blood flows stronger through his veins. Heart is racing. Racing. Racing…

All of a sudden, it’s like he’s so close to losing it, like he's standing on the edge of some cliff and staring down at some tidal wave threatening to erode away the land.

He knows how much Elliot treasures his elegantly-crafted instrument. He knows too well that breaking it will bring the boy devastation, as he’s had intrusive thoughts of breaking it himself on his quest to sever these bonds earlier. However, despite how much he’s convinced himself that it’s okay to hurt and ignore his classmates so that they can hate him, the thought of these fools doing it makes him dig his fingers into his palms.

Perhaps he hasn't recovered as much control as he originally thought he did.

Inhale. Exhale.

He's not supposed to lose himself so quickly. He needs to clear his mind again.

Inhale. Exhale.

And his clear mind tells him to intervene with the nobles without unsheathing his sword.

Doable.

Rean drops from where he’s perched on the branch and lands a few arge behind the four nobles, rustling through green leaves and snapping a few branches along the way. The noises alert them, causing them to immediately turn around.

“Schwarzer?!”

He recognizes Alphonse and Patrick, stiffly leaning away in surprise. The other two nobles don’t bring up any significant memories, so they nearly fade from his focus as if they’re simply background noise. They certainly don’t help draw attention to themselves as they cautiously continue to step away from him, looking ready to run. 

“Oh, I’ve been looking for you, Rean,” Alphonse immediately regains his composure with false glee, smirking as if this is part of his plan and pretending as though there aren’t malicious intentions hiding beneath his innocent facade.

Rean should stay away. Alphonse’s barely concealed animosity toward him is still as strong as ever; being near him only worsens his mental condition. However—

He refuses to let this guy mess with his class.

—instead of listening to his better judgment, he retaliates with a venomous glare he can’t seem to control. 

“Clearly you haven’t, since you’re plotting to harm my classmates.”

The background faceless nobles back away even more, sweat beginning to form at their temples. Meanwhile, Patrick’s surprised frown turns into alarm. 

They seem intimidated. 

Good. Or maybe that’s not good. It seems his judgment is failing him again. 

“I simply thought to continue my duty to show you commoners your rightful place. Instead of wasting my precious time trying to track a coward like you down, I thought I should start with someone more available, more vulnerable…"

He's baiting you, Rean's thoughts are purposely loud in his head, as he watches how Alphonse still smiles and doesn’t flinch at the darkening glare directed at him. He's baiting you.

“Someone more... weak.”

Elliot is not weak. None of them are.

Though… the thought of Alphonse trying to torment him or any of his other classmates… That’s an idea he will not tolerate .

THUMP

A threat spills from his mouth before he can even think, "If you lay a hand on one of my classmates—"

"I have no time for empty threats, Rean. I know you’ll be doing nothing because you don’t even care about them." Alphonse has his arms crossed, mouth now set in a serious frown.

Whiplash. 

Right. That. He’s supposed to be minimally involved with them now to protect them. It’s silly that he forgets so easily after everything he's been doing—maybe sleep deprivation doesn't help—but he also wants to protect them from whatever malicious plans Alphonse has in store for them.

He’s torn. He can’t protect them from himself and from some bully at the same time. He can’t—

Inhale, exhale.

Rean turns away. He needs to— Inhale, exhale. He needs to… to… He doesn’t know what he needs to do. 

"Hey, I'm not done talking with you yet!"

He doesn't stop walking away, not trusting himself to do anything smart in this situation as he can sense Alphonse suddenly erupt in frustration. It doesn’t help that the hatred-filled aura surrounding the noble seems to expand and billow, making it harder for Rean to think and reevaluate what he’s supposed to be doing. 

Inhale… Exhale…

Loud crunches sound from the footsteps that wildly crush the leaves on the ground.

"Ha, maybe I’ll hit Craig straight in the face, just like this—"

Unexpectedly, Alphonse catches up to him and his fist clenches, raises, then aims it toward Rean's head. 

…

The action is all too slow.

THUMP

It is all instinct, how Rean tilts his head to the left, feeling the air of the punch whoosh past his face. It is all emotion— all cold passion that compels his body to twist around, arm tensing up with electrifying strength as it shoots toward the noble's face.

He wants to hurt. He wants to kill— 

Rean stops.

No, his fist is stopped, only a couple rege away from impact.

He almost snarls, but he settles for an icy glare at the offending appendage holding his hand before his eyes flick up to meet an amused wink.

Crow. 

He should be happy it's at least not someone from Class VII, but his nose automatically scrunches up in disgust. He can sense hatred from this one too. It's barely detectable with Alphonse's overwhelming emotions still buzzing at him, but he can sense an addition of a different type of hatred simmering and smoldering like smoke rising from invisible flames. 

It also feels familiar— 

"Calm down, kiddos! Beating each other up is against school rules!"

The sensation vanishes beyond detection.

Patrick scowls at Crow. "I don't want to hear that from a rule-breaking commoner like you!" 

“I was just making a demonstration. I wasn’t actually going to hit him, unlike Rean here,” Alphonse says with a smug grin. It’s unclear whether or not he’s telling the truth. Turning to face the other nobles, he announces, "Come on. Let's not waste our time dealing with such riff-raff."

Of the group, only Patrick stays still as he watches the other nobles leave with false pride. Ignoring the blonde's narrowed gaze, Crow faces Rean with an impressed whistle.

"Well damn~ that was one hell of a punch."

Well, yeah. He hasn't exactly been trying to hold back. What’s more impressive is how this slacker has enough strength to hold him back.

"For someone who claims to not care about his classmates, you certainly are quick to defend them when it really matters," Patrick randomly decides to offer his insight from the side, causing Rean to shoot a glare at the lingering noble. Why is he still here anyway? What does he gain from speaking—

His spontaneous, boiling annoyance flickers into infinite emptiness when he finally realizes the consequences of these people witnessing that. 

"I don't know what you're talking about," he stubbornly denies, eyes pointing away from them.

"Well then, if you don't know and don't care, I'm sure it doesn't matter to you if I tell your lovely classmates about it~" 

There is no surprise that the trickster immediately figures out exactly what Rean doesn't want, especially since Crow sometimes makes it his sacred duty to piss off anyone available. However, not being surprised doesn't stop his anxiety from spiking through the roof. Class VII hearing about how he almost decked Alphonse in the face because of verbal threats to them is the absolute last thing that needs to happen.

"Mind your own business," Rean hisses.

This time, Patrick crosses his arms, losing all wariness he had before as he snorts, "Hmph, that's no way to ask for any favors."

Rean turns away from them, patience wearing thin. He would've never expected these two to tag-team ever, let alone against him over a matter as meaningless as this. 

" Please . "

He must look weird or he must sound weird, because their eyes widen at him and an awkward silence ensues between them.

"Crow!" Towa emerges from the surrounding foliage, sparks of shock and worry immediately lighting up her face when she sees that her friend is not alone. "Oh, Rean!” she gasps, shudders of horror filling up her tone. “What happened to you?"

He flinches. The question, filled with much concern, strikes him like lightning. He knows he's an absolute mess due to self-neglect and all the other cursed things going on in his life. He knows he looks a bit wrong, when inspected closely.

She should've asked, what's wrong with you. Instead, she has asked a question which makes it sound like he's not to blame for his own near self-destruction.

His eyes twitch.

Perhaps Towa is the most dangerous of the upperclassmen. She always assumes the best in people. She effortlessly says the right—or wrong, in his case—words.

Rean greatly admires it. He's kind of like that too, mostly because everyone is better than himself. However, he can't handle being on the receiving end of such care. It strangles his thoughts and his first instinct is to run. Unfortunately, he can’t risk making Towa worry even more than she already does, so he just ignores her and walks away at a somewhat natural pace.

It’s pathetic that he let himself be riled up so easily, especially when he’s actively trying to not lose himself again. It’s so pathetic. Unfortunately, constantly insulting himself isn’t getting him any closer to achieving some sort of inner calm, so he forces himself to focus on the falling leaves from the forest, to the fog swirling around Trista, to the lights shining through the fog. 

If he can just calm down, he can go back to trying to figure out the solution to keep himself sane—

A flash of magenta pierces through the peripheral of his vision until the source stands directly in front of him.

Instructor Sara.

Well, this does nothing to calm him down, but he can just tune her out like last time—

“Like I said before, I refuse to leave any of my students behind.”

He sucks in a sharp breath.

Rean must admit, he can respect Sara. Even after falsely believing he might be tied to a terrorist group or to Ouroboros, she’s still trying to give him a chance.

Unfortunately, Rean thinks of another woman who made a promise similar to that, back when everything was much simpler. Back when he was much more willing to not let go. 

He knows better now. He knows promises to himself can’t be kept; the death in his shadow is sure to swallow everyone up but him. So, Sara’s promise sounds like a warning to him. A warning that she could get too tangled into whatever plans fate has for him and end up dead because of him. Just like Mom. 

Unlike with Class VII though, it’s not friendship which ties him and her together, it’s duty. Despite acting terrible at her job, as an instructor, Sara might feel like she has an obligation to help Rean out. He can’t simply give her the cold shoulder and expect her to stop. And, if she doesn’t stop, then she also might…

“I’m realizing that.”

Well, maybe Sara can't let go of her student, but Rean sure as hell can let go of her class. Surely, she... Surely all of them will let go by then...

It's only a matter of time.

---

“He punched me!”

Alphonse's accusation somehow does a good job of tugging Rean back to reality, despite how false it is.

Another night has passed with no luck finding any sleep. He can't even tell if it's the curse or the building feelings of anger to Alphonse's threat, anxiety to Crow and Patrick's knowledge, and guilt to Towa and Sara's fruitless help that keep him awake.

Understandably, Rean doesn't have the energy to care about the current situation, especially when none of the staff looks convinced by the false accusation. But, he entertains Alphonse's game, only so the noble's focus is on him instead of any of his classmates. Part of him feels bad when Sara's annoyed gaze lands on him for doing absolutely nothing to defend himself, but it might help encourage the instructor to give up on him.

Unsurprisingly, Alphonse's plan doesn't work; it only succeeds in getting the staff minor headaches. Rean doesn't mind, he's at least satisfied by the distraction before his mind inevitably plays tricks on him agai—

"Except you, Schwarzer," Vandyck's voice rings out so seriously, so solemnly. "I have something I want to talk to you about." 

When the man clarifies that it's a private conversation, forcing Sara to leave, the anxiety from the day before claws up through his stomach. 

This discussion can’t be related to school if the homeroom teacher can’t be present, right? His thoughts weigh on this as the door clicks shut, leaving him and the principal alone. Silence reins over them for a few long seconds, leaving Rean at the mercy of Vandyck's piercing gaze.

He takes a pen out from his pocket, fiddling with it with his fingers to ease off some nervous energy as more seconds tick by without a word. Eventually, he can’t stand the anticipation anymore and finally decides to voice his questions, but then Vandyck clears his throat first.

“A man cannot hope to protect what he loves if he is at war with himself.”

Rean’s lips twist and his eyebrows furrow in deeper confusion. “Pardon?”

Vandyck's eyes are closed, arms folded against his desk. A small chuckle leaves him as his lips curl into a nostalgic smile. “Ah, my apologies, you’ve caught me reminiscing. I just couldn’t help but think this situation is awfully familiar to me.”

He doesn’t respond, doesn’t know how to respond. 

“You see, you remind me of an officer I’ve once had the pleasure of supervising,” the principal continues. “Despite being a newbie, he had the strategic mind and physical prowess to easily compete with the higher ranks. Many say he was born a leader, with a sword in one hand and a chessboard in the other. With his masterful skills and charisma, the military and the people were quick to pin their futures on him.”

Rean doesn’t know how any of those traits apply to himself. And… actually… Is it possible that Vandyck is talking about…

“To have half a country entrust their futures and hopes to you, it sounds like a lot to carry for one person. This officer, however, had an indomitable will. Like with everything else he’d done, he could earnestly and easily stand strong and do his best to serve and protect his country.

“At least, that’s how he appeared on the surface.” There’s a bitter smile on the man’s face now. “It’s difficult to have an indomitable will without a vision. It’s hard to reach one’s vision without a path. And unfortunately, with the poison of politics and other unsightly obstacles in the way, his path was doomed to twist and grayen, changing— almost corrupting his vision.”

There's a pause. And Rean waits, trying to not think about the identity of the officer in Vandyck's story. However, when the silence stays with no intention of being broken by the other, he hesitantly asks, “Why are you telling me this?”

Vandyck finally reopens his eyes and returns his steady, firm gaze toward him.

“I’ve watched many men crumble, their paths to their vision being too much for them and shattering their wills. I’ve even seen a genius like that officer falter,” he sighs. “My point is, I know what a person looks like when the world starts to swallow them and they lose sight of what they want.”

Rean feels dread pool in his stomach. Not another person telling him that he can't see—

“I see you have a will, Schwarzer, a very strong one at that. It almost reminds me of that officer: you both have a fierce will to protect. But tell me, what is it that you see for yourself? Do you see anything at all, or do you not like what you see?”

Rean's gone over it in his head a thousand times, yet his brain chooses this moment to malfunction. What he wants is for people to be alive and safe, and what he sees is—

“I’ll say it again, the words I’ve said to that officer a long time ago. Please do consider them carefully this time, it might help you get your thoughts in order.”

Rean doubts it. He's heard him clearly the first time, and thinking about it doesn't spur any epiphanies. While the curse is still meddling with him, he knows he’s clear minded right now. His thoughts are perfectly in order and he doesn’t think the principal can say anything to sway his foundations—

“A man cannot hope to protect what he loves if he is at war with himself….” A soul-piercing gaze suddenly stabs Rean and leaves him an unbearable weight over his shoulders. “...Osborne.”

The pen drops from Rean’s hands.

And clunks loudly against the ground.

Vandyck stares back at him knowingly, sincerely. There’s two meanings behind his last word: He speaks like he must’ve said the same thing to Dad once before, and he speaks like he’s talking to Rean right now, implying he knows his true heritage.

“I—” he chokes out as a harrowing chill spreads up his spine. So much for helping him get his thoughts in order, this— How? How does he know? No one’s supposed to know except Dad, his adoptive parents, the Ironbloods— “What?”

“Surprised I know?”

With the bead of sweat streaming down the side of his temple, he doesn’t need to say anything for Vandyck to know the answer. 

“I was a close friend of your father. I even helped him get with your mother.” There’s a faint smile on the man’s lips, as if recalling a fond memory while Rean is still malfunctioning. He doesn’t know what to do with this information; amongst the chaos in his mind, he never had time to think about what to do if his identity was ever compromised. 

“There’s no need to be distracted from my point though. Your secret is safe with me, and you shouldn’t let it hold yourself back." 

Hold himself back? From what? He's never thought the secret was detrimental to himself ever before now, how could it hold him back?

Does Vandyck think this is the reason for his sudden change in behavior?

"I only ask you to reflect on what I said, just as your father once did.”

There isn’t much to reflect on, especially when he’s still reeling from the recent revelation that Vandyck knows and he still has no idea how to feel about that. Maybe he should feel ashamed that Dad’s old friend is seeing him when he's such a mess? 

There aren't enough seconds in the world for Rean to get his thoughts together, so he chokes out, “You sound like I’m incapable of protecting anyone as I am now. Because I’m…” weak, pathetic, going crazy— these familiar thoughts don't give him a stroke, yet he can't find his voice to say them.

“Lost,” Vandyck finishes for him. 

As if being lost is better.

Deja vu. This conversation sounds like his last conversation with Alberich. Back then, the gnome called him confused, and now he’s being told he’s lost. Despite how he’s spent the past week changing everything about his own actions to produce a better outcome, it looks like he’s made no progress with himself. 

“I’m working on it.” He’ll be all better when he destroys his whole school social life. Supposedly.

As if his mind is read, Vandyck warns, “It helps to not push away the people who know you when you’re feeling lost. People close to you can remind you of who you are, if you ever forget.”

The problem is that people close to him get hurt; he’d rather cut ties with them all and figure out how to pick up his own pieces by himself. 

That’s… What he sees for himself… 

“Of all the things you had to take after them, it had to be their ridiculously insurmountable stubbornness,” he mutters below his breath, almost too low for Rean to hear. But he does… and it's so weird to know someone who knew his parents before… everything.

The principal eventually lets out a long-suffering exhale, looking tired. 

"I suppose there’s no point in saying anything else, seeing how you’ve already made up your mind.”

Rean stiffly nods, watching Vandyck stand from his seat, crossing his arms behind his back as he turns his back toward him. 

“That is all then. You are dismissed, Schwarzer.”

Rising from his seat, Rean walks to the door slowly, as if encumbered by the weight of this entire discussion. Unfortunately, just as his hand brushes against the door handle, the principal speaks once more.

“Ah wait, I have one last thing to say.” 

Rean doesn't want to wait. Every line that comes from the man's mouth is too thought-provoking, the next one could flip—

“You may be completely willing to let go of your friends, but know that they may not be as willing to let go of you… After all, it’s human nature to end up wanting to stay by someone’s side, especially if that person is someone who needs you.” 

.̴̢͝   .̸̦͖̦̙̫̜̪̒̇̆̒  T̵̡̫͔̤͓̠̹̩͐̈́̿̈́̈̊͘ H̷̺̦̮̮̍́̽ ̵̯̾U̸͙͛̑ M̴̧̛̘͓̤͗̈͐͜ P̷̜̋̈́̎  ̴̢̛͈̂̀̑   ̴͕̩̏̒͠   .̸̧͇̑̚

“So then, you’ll stay with me?”

The blizzard lapped at their frozen skin while Rean tightly hugged the man holding him, pretending his stomach didn’t drop when Dad didn’t give an immediate answer. The man’s face was tense, full of regret, uncertainty, hope, and despair. With every snowflake that pelted his head from the storm surrounding them, Rean could feel his own emotions freeze up. 

Dad will abandon him, won’t he? But Rean needed him, he can’t—

A warm smile suddenly cracked on Dad’s face, warm enough to melt the ice in his veins.

“I’ll stay by your side. Always.”

 ̷͇͔͈̫̣̂̍͗̎     ̷͊͜    ̵̯̾     ̴̢̛͈̂̀̑    ̶̧̨̝̀̎͛̇̚͜    ̴͕̩̏̒͠   .̵̢̰͈̱̩͓͑ 

—his world upside down.

Rean feels his mouth run dry as a realization strikes through him. He knows it all too well. It’s because Rean needed him that Dad decided to keep him around. 

But… It can’t be… Class VII can’t have similar feelings. After shattering their links, avoiding them, and threatening Machias— after everything he's done, they can’t possibly think he needs their help. They have to let go— they can't be as hopeless as Rean.

“I—” 

.

Wait, he was still standing? And now that his mind was relatively more aware of his surroundings, he could feel several spots of warmth bloom on his body, each indicating a hand holding him up.

.

“If he doesn’t react in time, then I’ll protect him.”

“And if he does get hurt or sick, then I’ll just heal him up!”

“I’ll give it all I got! It’s time to destroy your fear of getting burned!”

.

-w-a-y-s a-l-w-a-y-s a-l-

w-a-y-s-a-l

.

“Is everyone alright?”

“There’s monster blood stuck on everyone, but I think we good.”

“Good… Even him?”

“To our misfortune, yes. Even Regnitz is fine.”

“She wasn’t talking about me, you—”

.

Rean stones his expression, trying to ward off the abrupt warmness in his chest from recalling all the precious times his classmates have helped him. Of course they have a just reason for thinking he needs something— someone, they’ve seen him at his weakest points multiple times now.  And of course it would be a right assumption. He knows this. He already knows this, there's no point in trying to convince himself otherwise: He's so pathetic that he needs other people to be somewhat okay.

He just can't be selfish. 

“I don’t need them.”

He forces himself to not think about how he suddenly doesn’t have to think about breathing. Blood no longer rushes through his veins in a frenzied hurry, calming him down and relaxing his muscles. His heart is relieved of an invisible pressure, and the curse’s pull on him is subdued. 

He really tries… to not think about how the mere thought of them helping him out seems to relieve him as effectively as slitting his own wrist. But his efforts end up being futile; the gears turn in his head, miraculously without any distractions or loss of focus.  

Alberich has said that his friends classmates are the cause of him losing sight of himself, and thus losing control of his power. Vandyck has countered that, by saying they can help him be not-lost by reminding him who he is.

They don’t know who I am.

Rean closes his eyes, raising his left hand to rest against his chest. His fingertips feel the gentle and steady rhythm of his heart beating beneath his chest. The warm feeling from earlier still hasn’t left.

A soft exhale escapes his lips. 

He can't keep lying to himself.

There is a war still waging within. That’s why he’s still messing up even though it shouldn’t be so difficult to sever these bonds if he truly tried. That’s why he messed up in his encounter with Alphonse in the forest yesterday. Rean's always known this, he just doesn't want to admit it. As much as he should leave— is supposed to leave— he can't deny that there's still a part of himself that wants to stay.

This part of him has always lingered with him despite how he tries to ignore it. It should've been extinguished since he cut ties with Alisa, but Vandyck has rekindled the desire. To be able to fall back into this kind of thinking so easily feels like an unwanted miracle. It proves he's still hesitating. It proves he's still…

Lost

Vandyck might have a point. If he’s lost right now, how can he be sure he’s doing the right thing? As he is right now, how can he be sure he’s actually protecting anyone?

Is Vandyck’s wisdom right?

Is Alberich’s logic… wrong?

Because the principal can’t read his thoughts, Rean isn't graced with an answer. Still, even from only viewing Vandyck’s backside, the man looks satisfied. As former supreme commander, Vandyck must know how to sway and lead people to whatever path he sets for them.

As Dad’s friend, Vandyck wouldn't try to mislead him.

Fingers slightly trembling, Rean finally turns the handle and opens the door. He walks out to find Sara, Neithardt, and Thomas talking to each other until they notice him. Rean barely pays any attention to the latter two, not putting much effort in the greetings and farewells, as he focuses on his instructor.

If I prove I don't need you, will you finally go away?

The question burns on his tongue but Sara is not the one he wants to hear the answer from.

“Have you ever given up on someone you once cared about?” is what spills out instead. It’s less direct. Less attached to him. The right answer would help squash his hesitations. Sure, Instructor Sara says she won't leave him behind but... Sara, as ex-jaeger and former bracer, would have the right answer. She must’ve seen plenty of people leaving, staying, and switching sides in her experience.

Please say yes—

She doesn’t give the answer he hopes for.

“What would make you give up on them?”

Please, tell me how—

“Why don’t you just kill yourself?”

Again, the instructor doesn’t give him a good answer…

---

“What happened?!”

“Are you all right?”

“You’re not in trouble, are you?”

“I bet a noble falsely accused him of something stupid.”

“Spill the beans, Rean!”

Some sort of switch must’ve flipped because, the moment Rean stepped into his classroom, the members of Class VII were suddenly in his face, hounding him for answers. It’s weird to see, especially after they’ve been giving him space for the past few days. The fact that they (unfortunately) still somewhat care about him feels all real again when they openly express their concern. 

It certainly doesn’t help vanquish the hesitations which are still stirring in his gut by the time class ends. The doubts just keep building and building, creating an invisible pressure with enough power to match the curse’s ability to conflict with his mind.

He has to know… If he’s still been doing everything wrong…

He won’t, however, confront the entire class about it. So, when he leaves class while most of his classmates badger Sara for answers about what happened in the principal's office, Rean is relieved that someone is following him. 

He's even more relieved that it's Laura who's following him. She's level-headed enough to see how his presence hinders the class. She's also strong and knows how to take care of herself. It will be easy for Rean to see that straying from the class has not changed anything.

So, he's going to turn around and look at her. As usual, he’s going to see a strong young woman who would be better off focusing her energy on honing her skills rather than worry about him. He’s going to see—

Shadows hang below tired, unfocused eyes which stare down at her forearm. Her ponytail is a bit crooked, blue strands of hair loose from lack of brushing. Her shoulders slightly slump, forgetting about the impeccable posture she usually has.

She looks like she hasn’t been taking care of herself. It’s like he’s looking at some messed up mirror.

Is he hallucinating again? Laura shouldn’t look like that.

He blinks. And blinks. And rubs his eyes. To his dismay, no matter how many times he tries to fix his eyes, the image before him remains unchanged. Laura truly looks… w̶e̸a̶k̶—

She's not. He wants to smack himself for the thought.

Is this because of him as well? Why would they sacrifice aspects of their well-being for him? Why don’t they just give up on him? 

Concern is the emotion that causes Rean to end his silence. He's tired of waiting for them to give up. He has to ask what's keeping her here, with him.

So, he asks.

“We’re friends. I would worry if something happened to you, and a trip to the principal’s office is often a cause for concern.”

He hasn't been acting like their friend in a while now, so he doesn’t get it. He asks again.

"We still think you're our friend. It takes more than a cold shoulder to convince us to abandon you, especially after everything we've been through together."

And asks again. 

“You helped bring this class together, Rean. You played a role in getting us to accept a place for each other in this class. You are part of this place, especially since you helped build it.”  

…His messed up mind can't even think of an argument— he doesn't know how to deny anything she said because it actually makes sense for once, why they haven't let go.

He’s been here since the conception of this class. The students have a sense of belonging to this class. He’s somehow helped this class become the place that it is now, for every member to feel accepted within it. For anyone to leave will make Class VII feel like it’s missing something, and Rean is no exception. 

And, when you lose something, it’s human nature to want it back.

It's also apparently human nature to not want to leave someone who needs you.

His classmates are just humans. Rean is stupid for thinking they should be heartless to him, especially when they don’t truly understand how much trouble he is.

It’s… touching, to say the least. That they still think he has a place with him. 

Maybe, for all their efforts, it wouldn’t be fair to not give them a chance. Maybe he should give a chance to the part of him that yearns to still be friends with them. Maybe… Alberich is wrong and Vandyck is right. Maybe there is a better path to take to keep everyone safe.

If not, he will hurt them enough for them to hate him for it.

And when they learn to hate him, everyone can give up.

“I won’t let you hurt anyone.”

THUMP

His veins throb, registering those words as a challenge. Laura is the strongest member of the class. Can she back up her words with her strength? Can she handle his curse?

If she can, then he might reconsider everything. He might even dream… of a path where he doesn’t cut contact with them after he retrieves the Divine Knight, and then everyone will still be alright.

Until he has to die

Haha… how silly of him. He shouldn’t get ahead of himself with some flightless dream.

---

CLANG

Laura is a force to be reckoned with, her physical strength able rival the force of a canon. Rean’s the one who made the first attack, using his momentum and speed to pour more force into his swing yet he still finds himself easily pushed back. With how his muscles already twitch from strain, it’s absolutely foolish to underestimate her.

Yet he’s instinctively holding back. It’s ridiculous. He’s the one who challenged her, but he’s too cowardly to even fight properly.

“You’re still holding back!” Laura calls him out on it, voice holding a twinge of disappointment and confusion. “Is this what you want? To stop you while you’re holding back? What will that prove?”

Nothing. It proves nothing. She’s right. He’s being stupid. He needs to stop being stupid for just one moment—

THUMP

Luckily, it’s not difficult to draw fragments of his cursed power to the surface, especially when it’s been mostly begging to be released for a whole week now. Unfortunately, it’s still almost impossible to control it. He doesn’t know how he keeps his hair black and his eyes lilac when instincts take over his thoughts, guiding his sword through whistling air to meet steel. 

Again and again and again. 

It’s riveting. Every clash of their swords cause vibrations in his arms, much to the excitement of his cursed heart. He can hear the blood rushing in his ears, he can feel the blood pumping faster throughout his body to wake up every muscle, every cell and make him even faster, even stronger..!

What are these feelings? Why does he feel so…

Alive?

THUMP

Alive!

He feels alive! So alive! How has he forgotten this feeling? Because of doubts? What doubts? Why would he doubt when he feels so much stronger? So much better! He’s never felt this good in forever!

Whatever remains of his thoughts focuses on the greatsword, wondering how much he has to hit it for it to crack and fracture apart. Sure, his arms would become extremely fatigued, but it would be worth destroying something so strong and leaving his opponent virtually defenseless . It would be nice to hear the screams as he carves crimson trails across clear, unblemished ski—

 

.̵̢̰͈̱̩͓͑.̶̨͇̳̻̝̬͓̻̺̰̹͙͓̫̪̓̄́̋́͘ͅ  ̷̱̳̹̝͉̘̈́ ̴͚͚̱̪̃̏ .̷͙̮̗̟̥̓͒̈́̄́̈́̍̄̌̐̾̓̾̐̓̄̈́̇̐͋̉̈͆͘̚ͅ   ̷̞̊̌̍̋ ̴̼̮͈̘̃́̉̆͗ ̷͚̹̱̦͚̃ ̶̤̙̍͑͝  .̷̮̕ ̷͇͔͈̫̣̂̍͗̎  S  H  A T  T  E  R   .̴̸̢̡̧̦̣͔̗͎̲̣͈̥͙͉̱̲̙̥͓͖̘͍̤̦͊̀̋   ̷̩͈̹̒̾ ̸̢͔̗̙̯̝̏̏̍̈́͝͠.̸̛̟̻̳̝͉̘͐̀̅̔͊̿̈́͘   .̷̨͈͍͙̪͂͠͠   .̶̜̰̝̺͍̰̘̭͌̀̌̔́̃̕͝ 

 

"There is no need to fear that, little one."

The nickname calms him down, making him feel like there is no threat within himself. Making him not have to think about the meaning behind his actual name.

"Why, you ask?"

Still, something needlessly tugs on his urges.

"It's because you have a very tender heart."

It wants to control his body. It wants to move his arm. It wants to flex his wrist.

"You would rather suffer than cause pain to others."

It wants to—

"That's why you won't hurt me."

He wants to—

"So please, just take my hand."

 

.̵̢͈̝̳͔͎͉̪͈̤̗͉̺̝̗̂͒̇̌́̔͊͗̄̄͋͒̐̄͌̄̃͑̾͌̈́̈́͌̋̌̃͘̕͜͜͠͝͝  .̷̮̕S ̷͇͔͈̫̣̂̍͗̎   H.̴̸̢̡̧̦̣͔̗͎̲̣͈̥͙͉̱̲̙̥͓͖̘͍̤̦͊̀̋  ̷̩͈̹̒̾ ̸̢͔̗̙̯̝̏̏̍̈́͝͠.̴̢̛̛̯͇͕̬̠̯̺͇̹͎̟̍́͛̿́̿̆̃͑̾̉̅̄̐̇͒͛̄͋̑͆͆͛̌̾͒̍̿̈́̓͗̎̔̓̈́͜͜͝͠A   .̸̛̟̻̳̝͉̘͐̀̅̔͊̿̈́͘T   T.̷̨͈͍͙̪͂͠͠  ̷̩͈̹̒̾ Ȑ̸̢͔̗̙̯̝̏̍̈́͝͠.̶̜̰̝̺͍̰̘̭͌̀̌̔́̃̕͝   .̴̢̳̠͉̠̮̭̱̯̥̠̎  

 

Five—

Broken bells must be ringing in his head, feeling as if the shattered pieces of his Adamantine Shield have chosen to stab his brain. It hurts, damnit! What kind of ill-designed shield allows him to feel its pain?! What kind of shield forces him to remember those memories?!

There are reasons why memories of those times are foggy!  Why does his head choose the middle of battle to let these memories resurface?! He was having so much fun thinking about—

 

S̴̛̩͈̦͇͕͓̞͉̭̈́͛̽͐͒̀̌̚͠CHWĮ̸̟̙̜̦̹͂͋̐͑̈̽͒̓̈́̑̌̋̕͝N̶̰̯̦̻̪̩͈̼̦̗̣̺̰͛̃̒͂͜G̶̢̳̜̩̯̳̮̈͗̇͜

 

the broken steel—

 

SLA̵̢̱͈͔͚̙̭̫͔͎̍ͅS̴͔̠̺͂̀̕Ḩ̶̧͎̈́͑̿͊͑̈̌́̿̿̓͐͂͛͊͘

 

the flow of blood—

 

S̵̡̧̺̯͖̳̖͕͔̲̳͇̔̆̒̀̔̏́̌̅̓̓̆̊̓̆̅̀̔̏̄͝ͅC̶̢̝͔͎̤͔̗͇̏́̿͑̇̈́̒̋ͅḨ̷̳͐̄̑͊̊̐̓̈́͛̃̒͂̈́̊̃̈́́̚͝L̴̡̨̹͕̖̝̯̩̲̀̍̋̈́̑͑̆̂̋̀̿͜ING

 

the rush of power—

 

CLA̶̝̰̗̺͚͍̼͛̑̓̅́̆̊̎̓͠N̴̰̜͎̒̂͋̎̃̓̾͋̅̈́G

 

and the roars of fire, calling to destroy—!

 

CL̸A̴N̴G̴

 

Wait… Fire?

 

HISS

 

His instincts override his confusion and continue to guide him, and for once there is no instinct to panic. The dark flames whisper to him calmingly like they’re part of his second nature. They gently flicker and lick around his sword as if they’re not any harm. The fires are not hot. The fires do not burn.

There is nothing to worry about. Nothing to think about. 

Shadows begin to surround his thoughts, heightening his focus to the point where there’s only space for killing the opponent by any means.

By any means… 

By any means…

By any means—

 

 ̷̩͈̹̒̾ ̸̢͔̗̙̯̝̏̏̍̈́͝͠.̸̛̟̻̳̝͉̘͐̀̅̔͊̿̈́͘  —̸͔̻͗̆̉̒͛͘ .̵̢̰͈̱̩͓͑.̶̨͇̳̻̝̬͓̻̺̰̹͙͓̫̪̓̄́̋́͘ͅ  ̷̱̳̹̝͉̘̈́ ̴͚͚̱̪̃̏ .̷͙̮̗̟̥̓͒̈́̄́̈́̍̄̌̐̾̓̾̐̓̄̈́̇̐͋̉̈͆͘̚ͅ ̸̘̿ .̷͙̮̗̟̥̓͒̈́̄́̈́̍̄̌̐̾̓̾̐̓̄̈́̇̐͋̉̈͆͘̚ͅ   ̶̣̯̤̰͍͎͕͓͚̽̀̍ ̸̩̯͖̮̞́́̏.̵̢͈̝̳͔͎͉̪͈̤̗͉̺̝̗̂͒̇̌́̔͊͗̄̄͋͒̐̄͌̄̃͑̾͌̈́̈́͌̋̌̃͘̕͜͜͠͝͝  .̷̮̕ ̷͇͔͈̫̣̂̍͗̎    .̵̢̰͈̱̩͓͑.̶̨͇̳̻̝̬͓̻̺̰̹͙͓̫̪̓̄́̋́͘ͅ  ̷̱̳̹̝͉̘̈́ ̴͚͚̱̪̃̏  .̷̮̕ ̷͇͔͈̫̣̂̍͗̎ 

 

S  H  A  T  T  E  R   

"The one who spends the most time watching your back would find it pretty easy to slip a knife into it, be it the one you trust to have your back or the one you keep behind you to protect~"

   ̷͊͜    ̵̯̾   ̷̩͈̹̒̾ ̸̢͔̗̙̯̝̏̏̍̈́͝͠ ̴̢̛͈̂̀̑    ̶̧̨̝̀̎͛̇̚͜    ̴͕̩̏̒͠   .̵̢̰͈̱̩͓͑ ̷̞̊̌̍̋ ̴̼̮͈̘̃́̉̆͗ ̷͚̹̱̦͚̃ ̶̤̙̍͑͝ .̷̮̕ ̷͇͔͈̫̣̂̍͗̎   .̴̸̢̡̧̦̣͔̗͎̲̣͈̥͙͉̱̲̙̥͓͖̘͍̤̦͊̀̋   ̷̩͈̹̒̾ ̸̢͔̗̙̯̝̏̏̍̈́͝͠.̸̛̟̻̳̝͉̘͐̀̅̔͊̿̈́͘   

.

Four—

.

.̷̨͈͍͙̪͂͠͠   .̶̜̰̝̺͍̰̘̭͌̀̌̔́̃̕͝   ̴̨̮͑̔̔͆̃͝  ̶͚̙̀͗̄͗͜S.  H  A  T T E R—̷̟͑͜.̴̸̢̡̧̦̣͔̗͎̲̣͈̥͙͉̱̲̙̥͓͖̘͍̤̦͊̀̋   ̷̩͈̹̒̾ ̸̢͔̗̙̯̝̏̏̍̈́͝͠.̸̛̟̻̳̝͉̘͐̀̅̔͊̿̈́͘   

"Careful there, kid. This sword supposedly incinerates anyone unworthy who holds it… How about we get you a normal one if you're so fascinated with sharp things?"

̷̞̊̌̍̋ ̴̼̮͈̘̃́̉̆͗ ̷͚̹̱̦͚̃ ̶̤̙̍͑͝ .̷̮̕ ̷͇͔͈̫̣̂̍͗̎   .̴̸̢̡̧̦̣͔̗͎̲̣͈̥͙͉̱̲̙̥͓͖̘͍̤̦͊̀̋   ̷̩͈̹̒̾ ̸̢͔̗̙̯̝̏̏̍̈́͝͠.̸̛̟̻̳̝͉̘͐̀̅̔͊̿̈́͘    ̷̞̊̌̍̋ ̴̼̮͈̘̃́̉̆͗ ̷͚̹̱̦͚̃ ̶̤̙̍͑͝   .̷̢̗̰͈̹̜̤͎̙͚͍̻̙͈̈́͛̾̅͒̑̿͐̏̍̍́͛̀    ̶͉͎̺͒́̉̉  .̵̢̰͈̱̩͓͑.̶̓̄́͘    ̸̘̿  .̷̓͒̈́̄́̈́̍    .̵̂͒̇̌́̔͘̕͠

.

Three—

.

   ̴̷̼͎̘̬̬̞̻̺̹̾̾̇̇ ̵͇͇͎̥̘̉     S̴̲̜̟̻̥̱̖̀̔̅̄̔͗̑̄̚ ̵̧͓̦̰̬̻̞͖͙͙̟̯̜̉͌͗̊̈́̈̄͛̔͒̓̇̽͝  H̵̝̭̽͐̃̐́̈́͝  A T T̶̗͔̬̦̬̥̂̅̅ ̵͚͇͔̲̟̩͔̫͐̒͑ Ę̵̍̈́ ̶̤͙̼̘̤̏̿̚  R̵͎̻̽͗   ̷̞̊̌̍̋ ̴̼̮͈̘̃́̉̆͗ ̷͚̹̱̦͚̃ ̶̤̙̍͑͝ —

"STAB HER!"

 ̸̡̛ ̷̘͗    ̴̢̘̰̦̔̌̓ ̷̛̓̍͂̐̍͑̓̈̀͂̓ͅ    ̷̡̢̡̧͉̗͎͍̜͓̤͚̮̻̘͒̂̏̅͑͂̈́̇̋̔̽͋́͗͐̊̿̒̚̚͜͝ ̵̡̫̳̳̞̟̩͎̲͚͎̃͝͝ͅ   .̶͎͌̀̄͆   .̵̢̰͈̱̩͓͑ ̴̜͚̜̈́͗̍̈́̈̃͜͝   .̸͙̉ ̶̢̎   .̷̮̕ ̷͇͔͈̫̣̂̍͗̎     ̷̧̛̠̖͚̣̱͖͖̲̰̲̤̏̈́̎̃̈́̓͊    ̸̨͔̞̣̟͑̄͗̀͝͠ ̵̢̭̥̘͍̱̗̯͎̠͓͉͇͓̪́̈́̾̑͂͋̎̅̓̈́̔͆̽͌́̏͋̇̄ ̴̨̛̛̗̪̪̯̠̩̣͇͈̗̦̩͓͛͂̍͋͌́̏̇̀̃̿̀̓͌̕͝ ̴̠͕̟̯͚͇̍ ̶̧̞̥̬̍̊͑̾͛̈́͗̏̀  ̷̺͍̤̰̍ ̵͍̳͔̗̠̥͎̬̹̥̩̱͌̃̅ ̵̛̥͙̹̫̼̠̝͎͊    ̸̧̦̀̋ 

.

Two more to go

.

Agh…

His head is splitting open, his mind shattering into a million pieces. It hurts. The sound hurts. Everything—

Black turns to white. White turns to black. Fog and smoke make a terrible mix, combining to look like a hollow substance ready to suck the life out of everything it touches. And, with the blood and bodies and ashes on the ground, Rean could almost believe that if not for the fact that he caused this.

What… What has he done?

She’s hurt— He hurt her— He hurt them—

Them.

Laura isn’t the only one here anymore. Instead of one, four pairs of eyes stare at him in shock. Fie… Gaius… Jusis… None of them are the type to act rashly. None of them would interfere in a duel unless necessary.

That must mean they all deemed it necessary to jump between him and Laura. They must have decided that Laura could no longer protect herself, so they had to do it for her. They had to protect her. Protect her from him.

This— He didn’t— He knew— 

This is a mistake. He should've never—

He lets his hair shield his eyes from them. They must look at him like he's a monster.

Monster. That’s the only word to describe the one who created this carnage. The word also happens to perfectly describe the liar who claims to fear flames, and yet… Well, just look at the charred grass and Laura’s all-too-red arm. Look at himself, who all-too-readily carved this path of burning destruction into the area and people around him.

Why did he hesitate earlier? Why did he think for one second that it might be alright to take a path where Class VII might be able to share some of his burden? Did he think they would actually be able to handle his chaotic power? How stupid is he?

There’s no doubt anymore. No more hesitations. He’s a damned monster. Monsters don’t belong with normal people.

Ah… He hates himself so much….

And yet… There’s another feeling brewing and boiling in his stomach, growing stronger as he watches Laura get treated by her friends.

Regret… Bitterness… Disappointment.

After all, she helped get his hopes up. She made him think there was a chance. She was the one who said—

 

 ̷͇͔͈̫̣̂̍͗̎     ̷͊͜    ̵̯̾   ̷̱̳̹̝͉̘̈́ ̴͚͚̱̪̃̏ ̴̢̛͈̂̀̑    ̶̧̨̝̀̎͛̇̚͜    ̴͕̩̏̒͠   .̵̢̰͈̱̩͓͑
“That's why you won't hurt me.”
.̶͎͌̀̄͆   .̵̢̰͈̱̩͓͑ ̴̜͚̜̈́͗̍̈́̈̃͜͝   .̸͙̉ ̶̢̎   .̷̮̕ ̷͇͔͈̫̣̂̍͗̎   .̶̟̼̏ ̸̧̦̀̋   .̴ ̴   .̶̧̡̤̫̻͓̜̗̪̠̤̭̱̤̟͖̇̿̽́̈͂̏́͛͛̿̀̕̚͝   

 

—that she wouldn't let him hurt anyone, right?

But, it's so hot. Too hot. The roaring fire— the scorching burns like— 

 

.̶͎͌̀̄͆   .̵̢̰͈̱̩͓͑ ̴̜͚̜̈́͗̍̈́̈̃͜͝   .̸͙̉ ̶̢̎   .̷̮̕ ̷͇͔͈̫̣̂̍͗̎   .̶̟̼̏ ̸̧̦̀̋  ̷̱̳̹̝͉̘̈́ ̴͚͚̱̪̃̏ .̴ ̴   .̶̧̡̤̫̻͓̜̗̪̠̤̭̱̤̟͖̇̿̽́̈͂̏́͛͛̿̀̕̚͝  
The once lively walls full of memories were charred black by the merciless flames spiraling around them...
.̴̢͝   .̸̦͖̦̙̫̜̪̒̇̆̒    ̵̯̾     ̴̢̛͈̂̀̑    ̶̧̨̝̀̎͛̇̚͜    ̴͕̩̏̒͠   .̸̧͇̑̚

 

the scarlet cuts— the trails of blood— 

 

.̷̡̩̣̐̑́̈́̓̒  .̸̢̠͓̭̓̀̌͝   .̴̧̣͍̩͊͗́͌̓̐̆́̒̈́̚̕   .̸̛̥̖̂̅   .̷͙̮̗̟̥̓͒̈́̄́̈́̍̄̌̐̾̓̾̐̓̄̈́̇̐͋̉̈͆͘̚ͅ   .̶̜̰̝̺͍̰̘̭͌̀̌̔́̃̕͝   .̶̺̭̦͓͕͔̌̓͌̀̾ͅ
Blood seeped into the ground. Nearby, the bad man from before was pinned to the floor by debris, red crawling out from the center of his body. The sky reflected the crimson colors of the fires and blood…
.̴̱̩̭̊́͌͆̊̀̉̂͘   .̴̡̢̝͙͚̳͔̥͈̼̮͛͌̇͋̔̓̊̏̄̎̏̔͋̕͜͠    .̴̢̡̦̣͔̗͎̲̣͈̥͙͉̱̲̙̥͓͖̘͍̤͊    ̶̧̨̝̀̎͛̇̚͜    ̴͕̩̏̒͠   .̷̢̡̢̖̻̯͚͆̌̉͛̒̍̚͠   .̷̱͂̈́͌̂́̑̉̍̌͐̓̽̅̒͝͝

 

the grimaces— the pain— oh, his head—

.̵̢̰͈̱̩͓͑ ̴̜͚̜̈́͗̍̈́̈̃͜͝   .̸͙̉ ̶̢̎   .̷̮̕ ̷͇͔͈̫̣̂̍͗̎   .̴̸̧̧̧̜̥͈̻͓͇͚̯̣̠̯͕̞̹̦̅̒̒͆͗́͒͐̒̎̍̌͗̈̇̌̿̓̀̋͜͜͝͠    .̴̡̢̝͙͚̳͔̥͈̼̮͛͌̇͋̔̓̊̏̄̎̏̔͋̕͜͠   .̷̡̦͕̟͇͈̼̟̮̼͓̹̩̗͍̭̥̙͇͙̿͜͝ͅ
—painfully writhing in her arms.
“It hurts—”
It hurts so much..!
Please make it stop, mom—
.̶͎͌̀̄͆   .̵̢̰͈̱̩͓͑ ̴̜͚̜̈́͗̍̈́̈̃͜͝   .̸͙̉ ̶̢̎   .̷̮̕ ̷͇͔͈̫̣̂̍͗̎   .̶̟̼̏ ̸̧̦̀̋   .̴ ̴ 

 

Inhale— exhale— damn it!

He can't succumb to the painful memories. Not again, not in front of them. Not to the ambers, the blues, and the greens which see it all. He can’t give them proof that he needs them— because he doesn't! She didn't stop him when he needed it—

Inhale, exhale…

Inhale, exhale…

Inhale, exhale…

Still, no matter how much he breathes, this is anything but safe. The present is all full of hurt, just like the past. 

And, it's all because he's too weak to control himself. 

Or, she's

not strong enough.

"Please," her voice reaches him. The sound, filled with naive worry, is piercing. It rings in his head. It scatters his mind. It carves his brain. “Give me another chance.”

No. You're hurt. Don't you understand? I hurt you— 

"Laura—"

"I will grow stronger."

.̴̢͝  T̵̡̫͔̤͓̠̹̩͐̈́̿̈́̈̊͘ H̷̺̦̮̮̍́̽ ̵̯̾U̸͙͛̑ M̴̧̛̘͓̤͗̈͐͜ P̷̜̋̈́̎  ̴̢̛͈̂̀̑   ̴͕̩̏̒͠   

"You need to know how to kill in order to become strong—

"Don't fight the power. Relax and let it consume you. Only then will you grow stronger."

 ̶̢̎   .̷̮̕ ̷͇͔͈̫̣̂̍͗̎   ̶̣̯̤̰͍͎͕͓͚̽̀̍ ̸̩̯͖̮̞́́̏ .̴̸̧̧̧̜̥͈̻͓͇͚̯̣̠̯͕̞̹̦̅̒̒͆͗́͒͐̒̎̍̌͗̈̇̌̿̓̀̋͜͜͝͠    .̴̡̢̝͙͚̳͔̥͈̼̮͛͌̇͋̔̓̊̏̄̎̏̔͋̕͜͠   .̷̡̦͕̟͇͈̼̟̮̼͓̹̩̗͍̭̥̙͇͙̿͜͝ͅ

No. Don’t. Stop—

His head screams. His heart plummets. Something hurts. Everything hurts. It hurts..! Stop— just stop—

But she stops nothing. Her kindness, her persistence, her hope— none of it stops..! She only continues without hesitation, spewing out utterly insane words like, "And then, I will help—"

THUMP

.̴̱̩̭̊́͌͆̊̀̉̂͘   .̴̡̢̝͙͚̳͔̥͈̼̮͛͌̇͋̔̓̊̏̄̎̏̔͋̕͜͠    .̴̢̡̦̣͔̗͎̲̣͈̥͙͉̱̲̙̥͓͖̘͍̤͊    ̶̧̨̝̀̎͛̇̚͜    ̴͕̩̏̒͠ 

"You did no wrong.”

He did.

.

"You're okay.”

She’s not.

.

"You're here.”

That’s the problem.

.

"If you need me, I'll return to your side."

That’s what he’s afraid of.

.

“Allow me help—”

Help.

Help. help. help

He receives so much help, yet he never seems to get better.

It’s time to give up.

Give up on him. Abandon him. Forget him.

“Please—”

No.

No more!

—T̶ Ḧ̵͚́̕͜U̸̮͋̓̉͌̕MP̸͔͘—

“JUST GIVE IT UP, LIANNE!”

 

.̷̢̗̰͈̹̜̤͎̙͚͍̻̙͈̈́͛̾̅͒̑̿͐̏̍̍́͛̀   ̶͉͎̺͒́̉̉ .̵̢̰͈̱̩͓͑.̶̨͇̳̻̝̬͓̻̺̰̹͙͓̫̪̓̄́̋́͘ͅ  ̵̨̡͔̩̮̻̠͎̰͕̯͊̀̏̍̈́̑̊̈́̈́̈́ ̵̛̯̠̠̳̣̥̻̲̮̺͓͛͆̀̾͂̋̄͋̿͜͝ ̸͎̟͙̺̹̱̲̯̼̘̻̳̽̃͑̋̿ ̸̘̿ .̷͙̮̗̟̥̓͒̈́̄́̈́̍̄̌̐̾̓̾̐̓̄̈́̇̐͋̉̈͆͘̚ͅ   ̶̣̯̤̰͍͎͕͓͚̽̀̍ ̸̩̯͖̮̞́́̏.̵̢͈̝̳͔͎͉̪͈̤̗͉̺̝̗̂͒̇̌́̔͊͗̄̄͋͒̐̄͌̄̃͑̾͌̈́̈́͌̋̌̃͘̕͜͜͠͝͝  .̷̮̕ ̷͇͔͈̫̣̂̍͗̎  ̷̢̛̣͈̮͈̖̻̰̗͇̝̯̌̔̿̓̈̇͐̓͑̔̇͋̔͂͐͌̓͋̚͜ ̴̢̠͍̥̤͎͕̮̥͔͓̘̱͓̆̊̌̈́̂͛͆̉̏̒̈́͗.̴̸̢̡̧̦̣͔̗͎̲̣͈̥͙͉̱̲̙̥͓͖̘͍̤̦͊̀̋   .̴̢̛̛̯͇͕̬̠̯̺͇̹͎̟̍́͛̿́̿̆̃͑̾̉̅̄̐̇͒͛̄͋̑͆͆͛̌̾͒̍̿̈́̓͗̎̔̓̈́͜͜͝͠   .̸̛̟̻̳̝͉̘͐̀̅̔͊̿̈́͘   .̷̨͈͍͙̪͂͠͠  ̴͈̩͍͈̖̜̩̱̭͐̎͒̀̋͆ ̵̛̗̪͋͝͝ ̷͚͇̔.̶̜̰̝̺͍̰̘̭͌̀̌̔́̃̕͝   .̴̢̳̠͉̠̮̭̱̯̥̠̎   

 

Inhale. Exhale.

 

Inhale. Exhale.

 

Inhale. Exhale.

 

Everything is winding down. The diurnal creatures within the woods have taken shelter in their homes to rest. The cool, misty air from the oppressing fog relieves his heaving throat and sweat-soaked skin. Deep shadows fall from where the moonlight cannot reach within the forest, blanketing his despair.

Everything winds down… Even Rean.

His heart slows down with every beat. His lungs heave less with every push for air. His arms fall limp to his side as his back drags against the hard bark of the tree behind him.

He’s so tired, fresh out of reexperiencing some of his worst memories. He's so done , plagued with the knowledge that he actually lost sight of himself and attacked Laura with the full intent to hurt. To k il l.

Yet, she still tried to reach a hand out to him.

She’s hopelessly persistent and forgiving, just like her ancestor. Rean wishes the classmates who witnessed the carnage will be able to show her sense, but… Somehow, he’s doubtful. He can already sense their logic. After everything they've dealt with so far, they didn't go all this way only to let it end there.

And, if threat to one’s life won’t stop them, at this point death will be the only option.

“Why don’t you just kill yourself?”

He leans back, resting his head against the tree as he lets his eyes gently fall shut. Gerog’s words ring clearly, too clearly, in his mind. Usually he would do anything to deny the thought because he can’t let Dad down, but he just feels so empty right now. It’s as if every bit of emotion he had was burnt up in those flames, even the cursed energy cackles weakly through his veins.

He remembers how he was so desperate to avoid death, how he was so confused on how to find his own life. Now… It’s like death doesn’t matter right now, nor does life. 

It’s dangerous to be like this, to not care. Unfortunately, Rean doesn’t care.

He doesn't care if he dies, yet…

CLANG

His muscles do not hesitate to contract, foot pushing off the tree as his wrists unsheath his tachi to deflect the point of a rapier aimed at his throat. Rean’s nose scrunches up, unable to pretend that the wielder of the double-edged sword does not exude such a heavy, foul presence. 

Sea-green pierces through the shadows like daggers, staring down at Rean with swirls of fury and hatred. Blending in with the darkness are stray wisps of a familiar curse, clinging onto the attacker like a damned parasite.

“Alphonse,” Rean mutters out, taking a step back cautiously. His emotions may be absent, but not his awareness. This noble is the last thing he needs to deal with, so he tries to move away.

Unfortunately, Rean isn’t even able to let out a single breath when there's another flash of steel, glinting in dispersed moonlight. 

C L A N G

The clash of two metals blow away the fog as frenzied winds whirl around them. The sound and the rush of air calls for more blood to rush through his veins. 

Must he fight again?

Must he lose himself again?

“You’re awfully cold-hearted." Sword still digging into the edge of Rean's own, Alphonse talks like that's supposed to explain his actions. “I saw your fight with your friends.”

That gets Rean to raise an eyebrow. The fog was so dense that he could only see who he was fighting whenever the flashbacks weren’t impeding his vision. He doubts Alphonse could’ve seen any of it without anyone noticing. If anything, the most he got was probably the tail-end of the fight, when Rean was much less aware of his surroundings. 

“How does that have anything to do with you?” he dryly replies, sensing the aura of deep, festering hatred pulse around the noble. “It shouldn’t matter to you.”

It really shouldn’t, especially when Rean is currently struggling to make it matter to himself again.

“I am simply curious…” The noble's sword slides away and slashes again. This is the third time their blades catch each other now. It's a pattern. A monotonous pattern. Nothing like the impassioned delusion that fuels Alphonse’s dark and stormy eyes. “...About how you still have friends.”

Looks like they’re both in the same boat.

“Really? You show your curiosity by…" attempting murder? That first strike had definitely been aimed at his vitals. "...attacking me?”

Rean chooses to not say something so extreme when the curse staining Alphonse's shadow is clearly influencing his judgment. He knows the curse amplifies negative emotions, pushing humans over the edge. Without it, Alphonse would not so rashly try to kill him.

Probably.

Alphonse scowls and retracts his arms, pulling his blade away again. Lilac eyes narrow as he uses the brief reprieve to step to the side where there's more moonlight shining through the trees. Predictably, Alphonse follows, where his appearance is bathed in the light.

His appearance is unexpectedly frazzled. Brown hair sticks out like he just got out of bed, completely unlike the way he usually puts excessive gel to tame his hair. Bags stick under his eyes, though they do nothing to undermine his permanent scowl and blind glower. Meanwhile, below his head, it looks like he half-hazardly threw on his uniform, white jacket being unbuttoned, open, and wrinkly. 

He looks like a person running himself through the ground due to obsession, though maybe that's what he is.

“Show your true self, fiend!” Alphonse hisses, pupils shrinking into pinpricks as he glares at but not quite sees Rean. “It won’t do me any good to bring back the head of a human!”

The curse amplifies negative emotions , Rean tells himself again. This is one reason why he takes no offense to the noble wanting to slice his head off. The other reason is

 ̶̢̎   .̷̮̕ ̷͇͔͈̫̣̂̍͗̎   .̴̸̧̧̧̜̥͈̻͓͇͚̯̣̠̯͕̞̹̦̅̒̒͆͗́͒͐̒̎̍̌͗̈̇̌̿̓̀̋͜͜͝͠    .̴̡̢̝͙͚̳͔̥͈̼̮͛͌̇͋̔̓̊̏̄̎̏̔͋̕͜͠   .̷̡̦͕̟͇͈̼̟̮̼͓̹̩̗͍̭̥̙͇͙̿͜͝ͅ

he longed for death

.̴̱̩̭̊́͌͆̊̀̉̂͘   .̴̡̢̝͙͚̳͔̥͈̼̮͛͌̇͋̔̓̊̏̄̎̏̔͋̕͜͠    .̴̢̡̦̣͔̗͎̲̣͈̥͙͉̱̲̙̥͓͖̘͍̤͊    ̶̧̨̝̀̎͛̇̚͜    ̴͕̩̏̒͠ 

Without warning, Alphonse’s blade swings again, but with more strength this time. Rean has to grit his teeth, not because the force is anything he can’t handle but because the negative emotions emanating from Alphonse are beginning to make his own curse eat away at him.

It’s hard to focus again. It’s hard to block every strike again. It’s hard to survive again. 

Especially when there’s a sudden surge of his deepest wishfear washing over his bones, drawn out by the curse. It’s painfully hard to focus— to survive— to live, when all he thinks is—

I want to die

The only thing that helps is that, with every blow their swords exchange, his heart pulses harder. Emotions spark inside him again, but none of them good. His feelings only want to reflect the feelings of his attacker, who screams for murder. To destroy— To kill—

"How is it that you get to have everything?!"

It's a miracle Rean is still able to register the words Alphonse screams at him while the curse urges him to stop thinking and let go. Perhaps it's because Alphonse's frustration sounds so ridiculous that his head automatically goes into denial.

Rean has nothing. He will have nothing. He deserves nothing. Therefore, he has nothing to say in response to the question.

CLANG

"You’re a monster! You hurt everyone around you!”

Rean knows. Still, those horrible words do the job to ground him again. It’s nice to be reminded that he’s not the only one who knows this. It’s nice to know that someone is actually seeing him for what he is.

He just wishes that—

CLANG

—it was the people he cared about who could see his perspective. 

Sparks fly from another strike that Rean catches with his own blade. His head is relatively clear again, or he at least feels like he has more control over his thoughts.

That’s why he sees no reason to really attack when his opponent is already heaving. Alphonse’s arms are shaking and the lights in his eyes don't reflect the present. It looks like all Alphonse really needs is to vent since his strength seems to rapidly fade with every blow. If not for the curse, the noble would’ve probably collapsed to the ground by now. 

But he still keeps going, body still dancing to the cursed strings that push him forward.

It’s a familiar sight.

…and Rean doesn’t like what he sees.

“So, why…” Alphonse continues, attempting to shout but only producing something less. His voice, which used to constantly spew venom, sounds tired now. Broken. 

It would do him good for the battle to end now.

As their swords cross once more, Rean finally changes stance. He closes his eyes as he steps away, barely grazed by another sword-swing from his opponent, and resheaths his sword. 

“Why is it that someone like you still has family and friends, while I—”

He listens to every word spoken, to every leaf that crunches beneath their feet, to the wind that whistles from a blade that dares to cut through it.

“—have to fight for mine?!"

Inhale… Exhale…

"Yet they still slip away from me!"

chhk—

SCHWING

A sword flies into the air, Alphonse losing his grip on it when Rean unsheathed his tachi and struck his wrist with the back of the blade. There’s a thud and more leaves are crushed, sounds crying to the surrounding deaf fog. Rean eventually opens his eyes to see his opponent sink to his hands and knees with a stream of tears running down the left side of his face.

"Tell me how that's fair!" He pounds at the ground with his fist, defeated. "Tell me how any of that makes sense!"

Still, the curse doesn’t release its hold, Alphonse managing to shoot teary glare at Rean before his pupils desperately dart to where the double-edged sword lands. Rean says nothing when Alphonse’s intentions are obvious. After all, he has no answers for those questions. There is nothing to say.

But… For once in the past week, there’s an emotion other than frustration that surfaces within him. Just watching Alphonse struggle to drag himself to where his weapon is makes this tired emotion flood his stomach.

Pity.

Rean pities this guy. He pities how Alphonse is so entangled with the curse. 

He pities how Alphonse is envious of him.

It’s pathetic. He may not know much about Alphonse, but he knows no one should ever reach a point in their life where they envy Rean of all people. No one deserves to feel that way. No one deserves to be a victim to a curse that makes them feel that way more.

Unfortunately, there isn’t much Rean can do to fix Alphonse’s feelings. He’s already trying to get rid of the part of him that is apparently envied, and that hasn’t been working. The only way he can help him now is to

absorb the curse

There aren't any second thoughts about the idea. Rean may not like Alphonse, but the bully doesn’t deserve to live with this curse. He shouldn’t even be burdened with it in the first place.

Touching his chest with his free hand , Rean closes his eyes and focuses on the corrupted energy from the other. Spirals of black wisps wickedly and dangerously cling close to Alphonse, immediately threatening to drown Rean as he tentatively pulls at it.

Rean has been dealing with this for twelve years now. Surely , he'll be able to somewhat handle this…

Surely this is… the right thing to do…

THUMP

 

Į̷̼͎̺͖̼̺͚̲͕͕̞̋̑̕͝nha̸̛͉͉͈̟͚͓̞̬͖͖̺̦̞̐͛̋͑̉̄ͅle—-.̵̛̛̻͖̟̖̼̪͈͍̟͓̈́́̾̉͐̇̈́͌̈͑̚.̵͚̠̰̮̹̳͔̣̳̗͓͎̹́̊̌̍̇̇̆̾͐̇ͅ Ẹ̴̐x̷̧͒ hã̴̧̧̛̛̺̮̥̳͈̰͖͙̞̱͛́̐̀͒̉̈̌̊͗͂̈̍̿͊̈́̑̀̄̍̕̕͝͝͝ͅlȩ̵̼̱̦͎̟͇̪̪̄̒̍̆̇̒̕.̶̆̆̈̈—

 

He— He can’t breathe..!

Knees crash against the ground as his lungs squeeze. His left hand presses against his chest harder, hoping to ease the burden, but it doesn’t— work! A wheeze escapes him and, in desperation to get air in of his lungs or to get something out, his right hand reaches out for something— anything— perhaps the sword it’s already carrying and—

SLASH

It’s free. Something’s free. His breaths are free. He feels free, not from this damned curse of course, but from… something. He doesn’t know. He just knows he feels better right now and he won’t question it. 

“Aidios.”

The colors of sea-green, brown, and white— they shift into his vision before colliding and making up Alphonse’s form. He’s standing tall in front of Rean, letting out a shaken chuckle that carries less lingering burden. He only looks… tired, but it’s nothing compared to how desperate and delirious he was earlier. 

Still… His sword is back in his hands, pointing down at Rean. 

Maybe his judgment of Alphonse is incorrect. Maybe the noble would still attempt murder even without the curse—

The sword is suddenly dropped to the ground beside Rean. There’s a satisfied, weak smile on Alphonse’s face. 

“If I had known you would destroy yourself, I wouldn’t have done anything.”

Rean doesn’t care for any of the snide comments, too busy fighting for control over his own body. It’s difficult when his muscles protest for movement, stirred by the sudden smell of blood in the air. 

All he can really do to respond is grit out, "Just stay away from me."

Just stay away. Stay away because he wants—

Alphonse barely smirks and starts walking past Rean.

"That's the plan."

He does not wait for Alphonse to leave before pushing the noble’s sword away from him and sheathing his own. He does not wait longer to scramble toward the nearest tree and climb. Up to where there’s air. Up where he’s farther away from the other. Up where he can fall and—

That’s a new thought. A thought he shouldn’t entertain at all. 

Why did he even think about it in the first place? Is it due to the curse? The curse does amplify negative emotions, but since Rean's directly connected to Ishmelga, he's usually forced to experience Ishmelga's desires. 

To hurt— destroy— kill others— that's all Ishmelga's will. 

On the other hand, when Rean tried to kill himself all those years ago, that was all him. Everytime he hurts himself is all his own decision, not influenced by the curse because it’s a way to escape its hold on him. 

After absorbing the cursed energy surrounding Alphonse, why does it choose now to encourage—

I want to die

—his deepest desire?

.

 

.

 

.

 

.

 

.

“Rean?”

That voice. It's… it's Emma's voice. And she's not alone. He can sense three other familiar presences with her. Upon opening his eyes, he finds Gaius and Crow with her, as well as Celine.

“Uh, what are you doing up there?” Emma asks.

Rean ignores the question, thinking how much of a miracle it is that there is no stray, invasive thought demanding any of their deaths. Only his own death wish echoes in his mind— 

He forces himself to focus on anything but his own desires, like the question of why these people are here. They shouldn’t be here. The duel with Laura must've reached their ears, surely. Knowing what he's done, they couldn't still be worried about him.

Surely, they know he’s a monster. Surely, they know he will hurt them. 

Is knowing that still not enough for them to give up on him..?

“Oh, come on~ You know no one’s going to stop bothering you unless you spill some beans! Is it something interesting like a secret rendezvous with a secret lover or are you secretly planning the country’s destruction up there?”

Crow says all that, being as playful as usual, but Rean has to hide a grimace when looking at him again. Not even a drop of cursed energy is involved with the upperclassman, but he can sense something off about him as he ends his ridiculous question. However, despite how much it bothers him, Rean just has no energy or focus to decipher what it is, too plagued by his own demons. 

He just wants them to leave him alone. Fighting is strictly not an option, though he’s currently not concerned that they’ll be the ones in danger. Moving is also not a favorable option because he doesn’t trust himself to move while the curse is still throbbing, pushing, consuming—

So, he decides to answer them if only to make them leave faster.

But the questions keep coming and the questions become too exhausting to deal with, especially when he starts feeling… lightheaded. He would rather not pass out in front of them and force them to take care of him, especially when he’s supposed to convince them to ignore him, so he slides off the tree branch and lands on the ground.

His vision whites out for a bit and his ears buzz, but he catches the concerned question from Emma’s mouth.

“I’m fine,” he says, automatically.

“So he says, but I spy with my little eye two very not fine cuts on his left arm~”

Rean really doesn’t like being told he’s not fine, but even he has to glance down at his arm to see what Crow’s talking about, and— Yeah, those are two fairly deep and blood cuts running down his arm. Part of him worries about the fact that he can’t quite remember where he got either wound, but he’s more concerned by the fact that Emma forces him to let her heal him. 

Burdening her with his wound only makes his wish for death sound louder in his head. And it repeats. And gets louder. Repeats— Loudens—

I want to die

Oh… his dominant hand itches…

Of course, he won't die. He won't kill himself. He's made that mistake once and he's learned from it.

It's just… 

He barely hears the others talk about something related to the Old Schoolhouse. He's more focused on the energy suddenly erupting up his dominant arm, so he steps away from Emma the very moment the green glow of her healing spell vanishes. Ignoring the concerned looks they’re probably shooting at him, he thanks the thick fog for immediately hiding him from their sights.

After all, it would be unwise to let them watch him gain new wounds so soon after being healed.

It will be okay though, as long as it's just a little…

 

---

 

Inhale… Exhale…

As expected, another sleepless night goes by. But, he’s actually productive with school assignments in the meantime. He really shouldn't be doing it... but his newfound coping mechanism helps him focus on the present whenever his thoughts trail too far away or the curse feels too energetic. A little pain is much more preferrable over damned voices and hallucinations. 

Unfortunately, at some point in the night, he runs out of EP and he refuses to use any of the items that he’d bought for the class, so his alternative is good old fashioned gauze.

See, he can take care of himself. As long as he doesn’t get too carried away, he’ll be just fine…

“Rean!”

When class is canceled for a reason he didn’t pay attention to, he almost stiffens at the call of his name. He never thought that voice would ever speak to him again, after everything he’d done to her. He at least hoped that Alisa wouldn't get swept up in Class VII’s agenda to help him or whatever.

It turns out to be a fluke though, because Emma immediately comes over to his desk while Alisa hurriedly leaves the room. 

“Oh— Uh… could we talk in private, Rean?”

After being forced to be healed by her yesterday, he has every reason to stay out of her way in case she sees the bandages under his sleeve. 

So, he completely ignores her and leaves the room. He’s about to head down the stairs, but he spots Towa down there, talking with a crowd of students he recognizes from the student council, along with George and Angelica.

Before he can even think, his feet pivot and he finds himself heading up the stairs and to the roof, where there’s surprisingly no one.

Footsteps tap behind him, and he doesn’t have to turn around to know that Emma follows him. He considers throwing himself off this building to get away from her, but—

“I might know a way for you to control your power!” the witch blurts out, sounding nervous and hopeful at the same time. 

THUMP

Rean has no idea what she’s talking about. What he has is a curse, something that cannot be controlled. 

“I could gather materials and create a pendant to help you control it. I just need to see—”

Let her see him? In a form that constantly compels him to attack everything? Using a power that even broke through Laura's defense? Just the thought of it makes acid rise in his throat.

Not again will he risk hurting them. Not again.

“No.”

Thankfully, Emma isn’t pushy like some of their other classmates. She still lingers on the rooftop for a few long, awkward seconds, until she shuffles away.

Dizzy. The moment Emma leaves down the stairs, his head starts to feel light and the sky slants for a second—

A pained sigh escapes him as his arm catches onto the rooftop railings before he can completely fall. Oh… His body can't choose to pass out again now… He needs to at least wait until he's somewhere less public…

There's a few black dots already tainting his eyesight, but he forces them away by blinking and focusing on his present surroundings. Still weakly leaning against the railings for support, he gazes down, only to find a sea of white fog gazing back at him.

It does nothing to help ground him.

It looks so white and puffy, like the snow in Ymir. The fog covers the land and sky, like that blizzard five years ago. If there were splashes of red splattered across this white, puffy canvas, it would be like that day he killed those jaegers who tried to kidnap Elise.

The scenery makes it easy to forget the present. It makes it easier to remember the past, though it isn’t like he would forget the memory so easily. Very clearly, he recalls the feeling of moving… moving to protect his sister.

But the moment his cold blade flashed against that woman’s neck and blood painted the snow, a lost feeling surged through his veins. Excitement. 

It’s so strange. Thanks to Lianne, he regained a disliking to hurting living beings. But the thought of killing? Destroying futures? It makes him feel alive.  

So paradoxical, but it’s to be expected. He couldn’t always pretend that his heart wasn't corrupted— that Ishmelga didn’t manipulate his emotions and desires when he was young. That’s why…

I want to die

Somehow, Rean isn’t at all surprised when he senses a new, familiar presence run up the stairs to the school rooftop. He isn’t surprised that the new arrival takes her time looking at him, before tentatively moving closer to him. Somewhere deep inside, he always knew this encounter was bound to happen, ever since he mailed that letter to Heimdallr. Perhaps that’s why his mind has drifted off to that time, to prepare him for this.

Might today be the day he says goodbye again? It’s too early, considering he’s nowhere near finished with the Divine Knight trials, but it’s not like Rean has to leave Thors to leave the Schwarzers.

“What a pleasant view,” she finally says, trying to break the tension between them.  

Rean keeps silent, unwilling to let the tension fade. Elise is not supposed to truly be comfortable with him, no matter how long they play the game of pretend-siblings. She can’t get comfortable with him, when he’s so close to letting go of everything.

“Is it not?”

If he’s in her view, it can’t be pleasant.

“Rean.”

He still doesn’t respond, even when a warm hand rests on his fingers. 

“I’ve seen you like this before.” Her voice is so gentle, so careful. Ever since the incident between the two of them, she has always spoken to him like this, even though she dislikes him. “Can you tell me what’s going on?”

Elise is his weak point. She’s the only person he cares about who’s able to understand that he’s a terrible person. After his failure, it’s hard to deny her what she wants, especially when he feels obligated to not give her any more burdens.

Rean only doesn’t immediately give her what she wants because he doesn’t know the answer. He doesn’t really know what’s going on right now, other than that there’s a burning touch on his hand and he’s mesmerized by the endless, empty fog surrounding him. 

If he could just disappear like the mist…

“You know,” he eventually says, almost wincing when the curse bubbles up his throat. She could probably figure out what’s going on just from glancing at him and listening to him speak. Like she has said, she has seen him like this before.

“You’re…” she hesitates. Along with the hot touch of her hand, Rean now starts to feel burned by her careful gaze. “You're scared of what you might do, is that right?”

I want to die

Maybe. She might be right.

His fingers just itch, wanting to feel the hilt of his blade, but they’re still locked by Elise’s delicate hands. It's for the best. He doesn't want to do it in front of his sister again.

Of course, it's not like he's going to die right now, not by his own hands. But if he does, he refuses to die in front of Elise again.

"Okay… Would you like to take a break then? I know school can be stressful, so maybe you could take a break, return home and relax until you have everything under control again."

No. He will never have control again. He has never had control ever since that debris pierced through his heart during that damned jaeger attack. It’s pointless.

"You read my letter, that's why you're here. I don’t need a break. I just want everyone to stop bothering me.”

He won’t hurt them if they’re not around. He’ll only be able to hurt…

Anxious energy floods his veins and pokes at every single one of his nerves. If only he could go somewhere in private so he could see his own blood and make the stupid thought shut up.

I won't die, he tells himself again. I won't kill myself.

Elise continues, oblivious to his internal struggle. “Is it that you want everyone to stop bothering you, or that you want to stop bothering everyone?” 

He doesn't say anything. She can, unfortunately, read him well enough to know that the answer is both. Despite understanding this, however, his silence only compels her to convince him that his wants are unnecessary.

“You don’t trouble our family, Rean. And I’m sure you don’t trouble Class VII either, or else they wouldn’t continue to try repairing your friendships.”

Ha. The first sentence is a big, fat lie. They both know that the Schwarzers have run themselves to the ground for him. They still face obstacles because of him.

As for how Class VII feels about him… they're just hopelessly stupid.

“Actually, nevermind, you’re right. You are trouble.”

Rean turns his head to finally look at her, a sense of gratitude swelling in his chest. At least his sister gets it. At least he can rely on her to be objective on what he truly is.

He's just a bunch of trouble, better off dead—

“But, who isn’t? I’m sure I’ve burdened you and our parents before. Your classmates have also caused trouble. You’re not alone in being a burden; everyone is. It’s a natural part of being human.”

His eyebrows knit together, suddenly confused. First, nothing about him is natural anymore. He barely qualifies as a human. This logic doesn't apply to him. Second, why does it sound like she's genuinely trying to comfort him?

They're not at home. She doesn't have to pretend that she cares—

“All I’m saying is that Mother, Father and I would be happy if you stayed with us." Elise's eyes are still wide and bright and kind. Why does she look at him like this? They're alone. "No one wants you to leave, especially under the pretense of lifting our burdens.”

Mother and Father's opinions aren't unexpected. They have an obligation to love him. Elise, on the other hand, shouldn't care about whether he leaves. She should be happy— why would she include herself in that statement?

“But… If you really want to leave us, then that is your decision. Naturally, we’d do everything to keep in contact with you, but if you do… You do. But it can only be because you truly desire to, not because you think it will stop bothering us.”

Why does Elise sound like she'll respect his opinion? Why does she sound like she cares about him?

She can't. She's not supposed to—

“But I’m wondering… If you want to separate from us… and from your friends in Class VII, then where will you be going?”

THUMP

I will die

There are things he will need to do after he awakens his knight, but he knows his early doom is inevitable.

“Where... will you be going?” With wide, terror-stricken eyes, Elise looks down. Rean tentatively follows her gaze, noticing that their hands have separated and his are now resting—trembling—on the hilt of his sword.

He can't bear to see her so scared, so he looks away, moves away.

“Rean.”

He steps back. She steps forward. 

Back. Forward. Until his back digs into the cold edge of the railings.

“Please, answer me honestly.” She's still staring at his hand on his sword. The gaze is searing and judging. “Are you thinking of ending your life again..?”

I want to die

“...No.”

He can't look at her when he says it. The consequence is two hands suddenly—desperately—grasping both his arms as she shouts.

“No..? Just look at yourself! Listen to yourself!” 

Looking at himself has caused a broken mirror. Listening to himself will kill him. He knows the point she's getting at, but—

“I’m not going to die." Really. Truly. He won't make that mistake again. As long as he thinks of Dad, he won't kill himself.

He won't.

Everyone needs to stop saying that he will!

“You say that, but you’re already killing yourself! At this rate, the only place for you will be a coffin—” Horror must dawn on her with how an abrupt gasp leaves her breathless. Rean doesn't think when he instinctively opens his eyes out of worry for her.

Immediate regret descends upon him when he sees her. The eyes of his sister are too shaky, too watery, too heartbroken. The lips of his sister tremble too much, set in a perpetual, wobbly frown.

Why is she so upset?

“Is that why you’re cutting ties with everyone?! Is your plan to get everyone to stop caring about you so no one would care if you were gone?!”

THUMP

Inhale... Exhale...

"No.”

“Then tell me what’s going on! Or tell someone!" 

Why should he, when it will soon be none of their business?

"I can’t stand to see you like this!"

Why can't she?

"Forcing yourself to be alone? Not even taking care of your basic needs?! I’ve seen the end results of it, and you’ve experienced it! I know you know how this will end!”

She knows, yet why does she care this time? Why can't she be indifferent like last time? Does he have to remind her?

“It's not your problem.”

Elise flinches, as if she's burned by his statement. Her eyebrows slant and her mouth scowls just as her frustrated voice rises even more.

“It's not my—?! Why wouldn't it be my problem?!” 

Because you hate me.

As she should.

“Rean, you’re family."

He's not. She knows he's not.

"We’ve been through enough together that I can care about you."

He's put her through enough by herself that she should care less if he's dead.

"I’ve seen you struggle with yourself enough that I want you to find happiness.”

What kind of—

His thoughts halt when something in her expression changes. She's on the verge of crying, but her eyes soften so much. It reminds him of how Mom used to kiss his forehead goodnight. It reminds him of how Lianne once hugged him even after he— 

“I love you!" 

The world stops. 

It unravels and ceases to exist. 

It has to, because in no universe should Elise find it in her heart to not only forgive him, but also accept him into her family. 

This isn't happening— He must be hallucinating—

THUMP

"For Aidios’ sake, Rean! I can’t go back to not caring for you!”

Why does she say that like it's obvious to everyone but him? She can't truly believe…

THUMP

No… Elise can't do this to him— He can't lose the only person who he cares about who also sees him for the monster he is. She's lying! Everyone is lying—

“Don’t you start lying to me too.”

Elise has the audacity to look offended.

“I’m not lying! I don’t hate you anymore! “I’m allowed to change my opinion!”

Lies. Rean has no idea what would motivate Elise to suddenly lie to him, but she has to be lying to him. She can't stop being the only one— 

“...But you don’t believe me.”

The world stops again when he watches a single tear escape her eyes and carve a lonely trail down her face. The world darkens when it slips off her face. It darkens— everything darkens so much that all color is lost except—

Red.  

He sees red again. His heart is furiously pumping, calling for the curse-infused blood to his muscles.

Ah...There it is.

The old, familiar feeling of wanting to kill the ones who made his precious little sister cry. It surges. It calls for his sword. The first time was those jaegers. Now, it's… 

Himself.

Of course it's himself. He is the one who always makes Elise cry. 

Hah… It looks like history is coming full circle. It's time for Elise to remember that nothing has changed between them.

No matter how much they pretend at home, she will always be frustrated with him in the end. He will always make her cry in the end.

“You're right. I don’t believe you. It doesn’t make sense.”  

He puts his hands on her wrists, gently prying her fingers off him. She doesn’t deserve to be holding an utter disgrace like him. She doesn’t deserve to be so close to someone so close to snapping, unable to control the building frustration inside— unable to shield his little sister from all the snarls and shouts he only reserves for himsel—

“How can I believe that you can care for the guy who RUINED your family’s reputation?!”

.̶͎͌̀̄͆   .̵̢̰͈̱̩͓͑ ̴̜͚̜̈́͗̍̈́̈̃͜͝   .̸͙̉ ̶̢̎   .̷̮̕ ̷͇͔͈̫̣̂̍͗̎   .̶̟̼̏ ̸̧̦̀̋  ̷̱̳̹̝͉̘̈́ ̴͚͚̱̪̃̏ .̴ ̴   .̶̧̡̤̫̻͓̜̗̪̠̤̭̱̤̟͖̇̿̽́̈͂̏́͛͛̿̀̕̚͝  
“You’re not supposed to cause them more trouble than me! You’re supposed to know how to take care of yourself! You’re supposed to help them around the house! You’re supposed to be reliable and nice, not— not— Not be you!”
.̶͎͌̀̄͆   .̵̢̰͈̱̩͓͑ ̴̜͚̜̈́͗̍̈́̈̃͜͝   .̸͙̉ ̶̢̎   .̷̮̕ ̷͇͔͈̫̣̂̍͗̎   .̶̟̼̏ ̸̧̦̀̋   .̴ ̴   .̶̧̡̤̫̻͓̜̗̪̠̤̭̱̤̟͖̇̿̽́̈͂̏́͛͛̿̀̕̚͝   

not

supposed

“How can you wish HAPPINESS for the guy who TRAUMATIZED you because he's a MONSTER?!”

to

be

me

.̶͎͌̀̄͆   .̵̢̰͈̱̩͓͑ ̴̜͚̜̈́͗̍̈́̈̃͜͝   .̸͙̉ ̶̢̎   .̷̮̕ ̷͇͔͈̫̣̂̍͗̎   .̶̟̼̏ ̸̧̦̀̋  ̷̱̳̹̝͉̘̈́ ̴͚͚̱̪̃̏ .̴ ̴   .̶̧̡̤̫̻͓̜̗̪̠̤̭̱̤̟͖̇̿̽́̈͂̏́͛͛̿̀̕̚͝  
“Mother and Father are wrong, so, so wrong to love a monster like you.”
.̴̢͝   .̸̦͖̦̙̫̜̪̒̇̆̒    ̵̯̾     ̴̢̛͈̂̀̑    ̶̧̨̝̀̎͛̇̚͜    ̴͕̩̏̒͠   .̸̧͇̑̚

wrong 

to love 

“How can you even LOVE—" 

a monster 

like 

me

.̵̢̰͈̱̩͓͑ ̴̜͚̜̈́͗̍̈́̈̃͜͝   .̸͙̉ ̶̢̎   .̷̮̕ ̷͇͔͈̫̣̂̍͗̎   .̴̸̧̧̧̜̥͈̻͓͇͚̯̣̠̯͕̞̹̦̅̒̒͆͗́͒͐̒̎̍̌͗̈̇̌̿̓̀̋͜͜͝͠    .̴̡̢̝͙͚̳͔̥͈̼̮͛͌̇͋̔̓̊̏̄̎̏̔͋̕͜͠   .̷̡̦͕̟͇͈̼̟̮̼͓̹̩̗͍̭̥̿͜͝ͅ

“I HATE YOU! I HATE YOU SO MUCH!”

Until now, Rean hasn't truly known hatred. This whole time, he has only been scared of himself. He's only been guilty. He's only been sad.

Today, he learns what pure hatred is. Today, he learns that he truly hates himself.

At least he can feel safe in knowing that he is not alone in that matter.

 ̶̢̎   .̷̮̕ ̷͇͔͈̫̣̂̍͗̎   ̶̣̯̤̰͍͎͕͓͚̽̀̍ ̸̩̯͖̮̞́́̏ .̴̸̧̧̧̜̥͈̻͓͇͚̯̣̠̯͕̞̹̦̅̒̒͆͗́͒͐̒̎̍̌͗̈̇̌̿̓̀̋͜͜͝͠    .̴̡̢̝͙͚̳͔̥͈̼̮͛͌̇͋̔̓̊̏̄̎̏̔͋̕͜͠   .̷̡̦͕̟͇͈̼̟̮̼͓̹̩̗͍̭̥̙͇͙̿͜͝ͅ

I 

hate 

me, too

  "—the guy who’s SCREAMING at you and making you CRY at this very moment?!”

Water. Salt. Tears. There's a ticklish feeling behind his eyes, swaying in rhythm with a tightness in his chest. 

Rean has the urge to cry. Remembering those painful words from his little sister hurt, but he doesn't blame her because it's true. He has caused much pain, he doesn't deserve any sympathy, so he doesn't cry.

Instead, it's almost like Elise cries for him. Almost like his pain is her pain. More tears cascade down her shocked face, more proof that he’s the bad guy here. He always will be.

“You hate me. I can tell you hate me. You’re supposed to hate me..!”

Hate me. Hate me. Please, hate me. Make this easier.

But... Rean senses none of the old hatred from Elise. He doesn't sense any new hatred from her either, despite how she sheds more tears because of him. Instead, there's a new, unwavering light in her eyes, enhanced by the glistening tears.

Her eyes must sting but her gaze is firm and steady as they lock onto his, as if she's not scared of him. As if she's not regretful to be here with him. She takes a deep breath and reignites her own argument. As if she still has patience for him.

“You are sorely mistaken, Rean. I told you before that we want you to stay BECAUSE we care more about you than a silly reputation.” 

Stay. Him. They would sacrifice their reputation for him because of some misplaced care?

How ridiculous..! Rean is worthless. He should be the one doing the sacrificing..!

“You didn’t traumatize me because you’re a monster. You protected me because you had the strength to, and—”

"Not a monster? Do you not remember those guys I murdered without remorse? I still can't care about them! And right now, I still want to kill someone!" 

Myself. Let me kill myself. If it’s not myself, then 

"...I could kill you!"

“You're not going to kill me!"

Lies. Lies. Everyone he cares about is lying to him!

 ̷͇͔͈̫̣̂̍͗̎     ̷͊͜    ̵̯̾   ̷̱̳̹̝͉̘̈́ ̴͚͚̱̪̃̏ ̴̢̛͈̂̀̑    ̶̧̨̝̀̎͛̇̚͜    ̴͕̩̏̒͠   .̵̢̰͈̱̩͓͑
“That's why you won't hurt me.”
.̶͎͌̀̄͆   .̵̢̰͈̱̩͓͑ ̴̜͚̜̈́͗̍̈́̈̃͜͝   .̸͙̉ ̶̢̎   .̷̮̕ ̷͇͔͈̫̣̂̍͗̎   .̶̟̼̏ ̸̧̦̀̋   .̴ ̴   .̶̧̡̤̫̻͓̜̗̪̠̤̭̱̤̟͖̇̿̽́̈͂̏́͛͛̿̀̕̚͝   

"In fact, if you didn't care, I would not be ALIVE right now!” 

Her scream, still full of deceit, tears him back to reality and dumps him straight into denial. They both know she would be perfectly fine if he never intruded upon her life!

"You did care about taking their lives. Do you not remember how you trapped yourself in your mind for two years? Do you not remember how you had to do rehab five days every week until you started school? You STOPPED yourself from hurting anyone else. Then you tried to get BETTER. No monster would do that!"

Oh, he remembers. He knows. She’s wrong for the most part though. He hasn’t gotten better. He’s still a monster.

“I’m saying that you were NEVER a monster!”

He is. Ishmelga is a monster and Rean's its vessel. He's a monster. 

Tell him. Tell him again that he's a monster. She’s done it before.

If not… If she doesn't think he's a monster anymore— then what the hell is he?! What is he supposed to think—

“And this?” 

He's tugged down when Elise grabs his collar, forced to stare at the smeared tears on her face, forced to see the desperation in her shaking eyes. Then, she screams so loud that, even though his ears begin to ring, he is forced to listen to every single word.

“I didn’t cry when the nobles shunned mother and father! I didn’t cry because you transformed!” 

The cold railings dig into his back again. He remembers he's on the rooftop. He thinks about how there's fog he wishes to disappear into. He thinks about something calling him from somewhere beneath the clouds. It’s better to focus on those than think too hard on any of these lies. 

“I cry because I want to! These tears aren't to be pitied! Back then, I was crying for OUR mother and father! I was crying for MYSELF! And I’m only crying NOW because I care about YOU! I’m crying because you’re hurting so much and it’s so painful to just watch and do nothing while you suffer!"

New tears replace the old ones on her twitching face. Her voice breaks and the sentences break from uncontrollable sobs. Rean can't help but think he's the cause for reducing his sister into such an ugly mess. She’s even saying it herself. She’s crying because of him.

"You're my ONLY brother, Rean! Of course I don't want to lose you!" 

No. You don't mean that. Just look at yourself. The tears prove it all. You would be better off without me.

“I barely even remember life before you! I don’t want to think about what life would be like without you!”

Stop. Stop lying—

Stop caring—

"If I didn’t care about you… “

Stop—

“THEN I WOULDN’T BE CRYING!"

.

.

.

"Mom..? What's wrong? The bad guys got beat up and we're home now. We're safe, so… why are you crying?"

Warmth envelops his body as he's drawn into a hug. 

"It's nothing to worry about, sweetie. These are… good tears. I'm just… so glad that we found you in time… I'm so happy you came back home with me that I just can't stop the tears."

.

.

.

…Oh.

Elise… isn't lying. People can show care like this, too.

She has somehow found it in herself to care about him. That’s why she’s screaming and crying and holding onto him so tightly. That’s why she’s doing all these things that are so uncharacteristic of her, things that make no sense to anyone else. It’s all because she cares. It’s all because he’s in a situation she doesn’t like, and she’s desperately willing to do anything to pull him out of it.

She wants him to stay. She loves him. Really. Truly. Sincerely.

But… 

 ̶̢̎   .̷̮̕ ̷͇͔͈̫̣̂̍͗̎   .̴̸̧̧̧̜̥͈̻͓͇͚̯̣̠̯͕̞̹̦̅̒̒͆͗́͒͐̒̎̍̌͗̈̇̌̿̓̀̋͜͜͝͠    .̴̡̢̝͙͚̳͔̥͈̼̮͛͌̇͋̔̓̊̏̄̎̏̔͋̕͜͠   .̷̡̦͕̟͇͈̼̟̮̼͓̹̩̗͍̭̥̙͇͙̿͜͝ͅ

I want to die

.̴̱̩̭̊́͌͆̊̀̉̂͘   .̴̡̢̝͙͚̳͔̥͈̼̮͛͌̇͋̔̓̊̏̄̎̏̔͋̕͜͠    .̴̢̡̦̣͔̗͎̲̣͈̥͙͉̱̲̙̥͓͖̘͍̤͊    ̶̧̨̝̀̎͛̇̚͜    ̴͕̩̏̒͠

 

The feelings are all wasted on him.

She deserves better.

 

One...
(it’s much worse when he’s alone)

Two...
(when has he ever gotten what he deserved?)

Three...
(he… doesn’t want to do this)

Elise's hands are soft. He's reminded of all the times they've traveled into the canyon together, her freezing hand clasping his.

Four...
(so tired)

Five...
(it hurts)

Six...
(help)

Her hands are warm. He doesn't remember much during the times when he was catatonic, but he remembers a small warmth.

Seven...
(I don't want to burden)

Eight...
(can I just)

Nine...
(I can’t handle)

Her hands are here, in his. There are many people out of his reach, many people he cannot hold anymore.

 

Ten
(Let me die)

 

Elise will be one of those people too.

 

He lets go of her. The warmth leaves with her hands. It's summer and, while the fog does cool the temperature, Rean can't help but feel the instant bitter cold of loneliness.

It's fine.

…It's better this way.

Especially since—

I want to die

—the urge is strong. Her love and care have stirred this urge —stirred and stirred and stirred— until it’s too much. Every time she says she cares about him— he just can't help but think how her life would be better if they never met.

Living is a mistake. His existence is a mistake. He ruins so many lives and he just wants to fix it by killing himself—

But he also can't. He can't kill himself. He has all this energy that desires death and he has to direct this energy somewhere else before he forgets himself and succumbs to his wish—

He can't kill himself— he has to kill something else—

Who do I kill?

His eyes refocus to the present— to the girl standing in front him, turquoise eyes foolishly daring to hope.

I could kill you

This is why he must leave now.

“You can get a better brother. Then, you could stop caring about me. So you can stop crying for me.”

“̸N̸o̷!̸”̶ ̴

"I can be replaced by someone much more worthy…”

“̵Y̷o̸u̸ ̶c̸a̵n̸’̸t̶ ̴b̷e̵ ̵r̸e̶p̴l̸a̷c̵e̶d̴!̴”̸

“...by someone much less dangerous…”

“̵Y̷o̸u̸’̷r̸e̸ ̶n̸o̸t̴ ̴d̷a̸n̶g̴e̴r̷o̷u̵s̸!̴”̸

“...by someone who didn't trouble you so much."

“̷͚̹̘̣̠̒̾͌L̵̪̪̹̓͋Í̷̡͕͖̙̑͝ͅSTË̸̡̼̻̗̲͚̱͔͓̯̯͉̠́̄̇͆̚͝͝N̴̛̯̦̬̣̐̈ ̴̧̡̟̞͓̦̎̿͋̂͜͝TO ME̴̢̢̹̩̲̱͉̼̜͉͎͎̺̭̬͈͔̬̰̙͕͛̓͂̊͐͜͜͝͝!̸̡͔͚͍͈̫͕̤̩̘̰̦͖̘̼̰̉”̸̨̢̥̟͔̙̟͓̤̠̘̦͍̙͍̪̲̑͒̉͊̈̀̉̆̿͗̍̓̒̓͐͆͋͗̏̕̕̚͠͝͝

Get away. 

Get away from her.

He doesn’t care how— push, shove, lie— do anything that doesn’t kill her. Do anything to get away from here—

SQUEAK

His shoes rub against the railing as he stares down at the seemingly never-ending pool of fog below him. It’s ominous, yet there’s something calming about it— maybe it’s the idea that it can swallow him whole and hide him from his sister. It’s an escape.

That’s why he has no second thoughts about jumping off even when he can’t see the bottom. Wind rushes against him and his heart plummets inside his own body. This is the sensation of

Falling

Falling

Falling

F̸a̵l̵l̶i̴n̶g̴.̴

F̸̮͘a̸͑ͅl̴͂ͅl̸͖̍i̶̢̓ṋ̷̂g̶̱̎.̴̘̀

.̵̢̰͈̱̩͓͑.̶̨͇̳̻̝̬͓̻̺̰̹͙͓̫̪̓̄́̋́͘ͅ    .̷͙̮̗̟̥̓͒̈́̄́̈́̍̄̌̐̾̓̾̐̓̄̈́̇̐͋̉̈͆͘̚ͅ   .̷̮̕ ̷͇͔͈̫̣̂̍͗̎   .̴̸̢̡̧̦̣͔̗͎̲̣͈̥͙͉̱̲̙̥͓͖̘͍̤̦͊̀̋    .̸̛̟̻̳̝͉̘͐̀̅̔͊̿̈́͘   .̷̨͈͍͙̪͂͠͠   .̶̜̰̝̺͍̰̘̭͌̀̌̔́̃̕͝ 

“I want to be a hero like dad—”

"You must lose your identity."

“—Then I’ll be strong enough to protect you when you’re both suuuuper old—”

"You are weak, Rean." 

“—And help Mom fulfill her dream to solve that mystery about the Nameless One!”

"Truth is, you have always been weak. You will always be weak.”

“I swear it upon the name you gave me—”

“The only way for you to be strong is if you become someone else.”

“—As Rean Osborne!”

“The first step is to cast away your name…"

.̸̛̪̦͖̘̜͔̯́̓̅͐͐̄̏͊̿̐͘̚̚͜͠   ̵̝͒ .̸̢̠͓̭̓̀̌͝   ̴̧̙͍͔̠̇̈́͗̓̅̍̒͘̕ .̴̧̣͍̩͊͗́͌̓̐̆́̒̈́̚̕   ̶̡̛̥͍͖͖̟̮̤͍͇͇͍̱̇̒̎̋͊͑͗ .̷̡̩̣̠̣̪̹̥̖̼̳̳͍̭̠̖̰̐̑́̈́̓̒   ̶̨̣̘̭̙̣̻̩̺̮͖͌́̕ͅ .̷   ̶̨̣̘̭̙̣̻̩̺̮͖͌́̕ͅ .̴̢͝   .̸͇̣̬͓̠́̾

F̷̙̀ă̵̠l̸̲̈́l̷̟̍i̴̳͐n̷̻̾g̷͍̓.̷̫̇ ̵̹͊

F̶a̴l̵l̸i̸n̶g̶.̴ ̷

Falling

 

.

 

Falling

 

.

 

̵̝͒ .̸̢̠͓̭̓̀̌͝   ̴̧̙͍͔̠̇̈́͗̓̅̍̒͘̕ .̴̧̣͍̩͊͗́͌̓̐̆́̒̈́̚̕  I will catch you    ̶̨̣̘̭̙̣̻̩̺̮͖͌́̕ͅ .̷   ̶̨̣̘̭̙̣̻̩͌́̕ͅ .̴̢͝

 

.

 

He could fall forever.

He is unhinged. He is fully aware of it. 

But. He. Cannot . Contr o l. It.

There is no control over the urges to stab cu t des tr oy k i ll— 

SLICE

THUD

STEP

Step.

Step.

Breath.

Breath.

And here he is. At the Old Schoolhouse already. Where he could

Kill. 

Kill who? 

Kill Everything.

All is clear now… If not for the two figures blocking his path.

“Schwar— What in Aidios’ name happened to you!?” White and gold. That pair of colors screams at him. There is shock in that scream, as well as fear.

Beside it are silver, crimson, and green, all brightly hiding the smoldering negativity within. It talks as well. “Geez Rean. I know I told you stressing so much would give you white hairs, but this is going too far!” 

Meaningless. Their words are meaningless. None of their feelings matter to him. 

The only thing that matters is that

 

They     are     in     my     way . 

 

“ I swear to Aidios ...” 

A tachi, glinting scarlet for the taste of blood, points at the things that speak. Can they be killed?  

“If you don’t get out of my way right now...”

Someone needs to die...

“... I'll cut you all down where you stand..!”

Notes:

To be continued in "Chapter 25 - Hug Me; Please Kill Me"
In which—it's all too much—there are two choices, and Crow’s not really known to be the type of person to ever choose the best one.

Take care!

Chapter 25: Hug Me; Please Kill Me

Notes:

Warning: Literally all the warnings this fic has ever had + a lot of cursing. It's probably too late at this point to say it but take care of yourself before reading lol.

Crow wasn’t an idiot, he could clearly see the shift in tension since Class VII arrived back from their field study. Apparently some drama was stirring about in the class, centering around how a certain guy couldn’t return a certain girl’s feelings. It was typical highschool drama stuff, nothing to worry about since time would eventually cause the two to move on.

And, as much as he loved juicy gossip to distract himself from his shady side-business, he did not have the energy to really pay attention to it. While Scarlet’s resignation did not shake up the ILF, it did leave Crow and Gideon sitting over the drawing board for a few days, restructuring the operation that would take place in Heimdallr less than a month from now. Cayenne also started being more of an ass again and requested—demanded—for someone to fill in Scarlet’s role in teaching members how to pilot the Panzer Soldats, forcing Crow to occasionally help and work with Vulcan on the matter. 

As if that wasn’t enough, during their planning, Gideon introduced the idea of using some sort of strange device that basically functioned the same way as the Demonic Flute, given to him by some shady researcher in Nord. Naturally, Crow would be suspicious of a shady deal that sounded like a scam, but Vulcan confirmed that Gideon’s dealer was the same person the jaegers went to for S-weapons; therefore, it was trustworthy.

Well, as trustworthy as a blackmarket deal could get. On the condition that Gideon at least try to pilot a Panzer Soldat, Crow agreed that they could use the device if they really really needed it.

Of course, with all this going on, Crow was basically a zombie dragging his feet everywhere, only to slack off more in school; he knew his grades were going to be in jeopardy, which would inevitably cause Towa to fret over him and George and ‘Gelica to annoy the hell out of him. His only saving grace was that he could still wing most of his classes and his tutor was practically a godsend and made learning this useless history crap so much easier and—

Rean quit being his tutor.

Well, it wasn’t like graduation was ever on his bucket list anyway. It wasn't like Crow enjoyed surprise attacking his tutor with raunchy magazines in the middle of each tutoring session, as if each vulgar image would make a dent in that perfect, innocent mask, either. 

(Of course, none of those attempts have worked, but still).

Anyway, this turn of events was only proving to be an opportunity.

 

“Crow, can you keep a secret?”

He was just mindlessly flipping through horse racing magazines with his legs kicked up on the table outside the cafe when ‘Gelica approached him. Without asking for permission, she just plopped her ass onto the chair opposite of him, giving him a look that practically meant she wouldn’t take no as an answer.

Naturally, he winked. “Secret’s my middle name~”

She mirrored his good-natured expression while leaning back in her chair. “First, tell me what you think about how your favorite junior’s been shutting everyone out.”

Hm… Guy acts friendly in the beginning then turns around and starts acting cold? Quitting his gofer hobbies, isolating himself from his friends, moving into the not-so-friendly noble dorm, and never wearing a fake smile? Crow hadn’t seen Rean enough recently to make an educated guess, but the idea was something he could relate to, in the future at least.

“Might be his true colors.” Or maybe Crow was just projecting.

His friend waved him off with an easy smile. “Nah, it’s all an act! The secret’s that there’s still a heart of gold somewhere in there.” She then stretched her arms up in the air before adding, “Honestly, what kind of idiot would act nice, then act out like an uncaring ass, but then also actually still care? Does he seriously think anyone's gonna fall for such an inconsistency?”

Uhhh…

Crow ignored the last comment. “You gonna do anything with this oh-so-sacred knowledge?”

“Sometimes everyone just needs to see the effects of something you can’t understand to measure the shape of the unknown, so I won't do a thing,” she said, using her legs to kick his own off the table and steal his spot. “And I have a feeling that unknown ain't something to be messed with, which is why I ain’t telling Towa or George. Don't want them near the blast zone.”

"Hey, glad to know one of my best friends doesn't care if I'm the one taking an explosion to the face!"

A smirk pulled at her lips as her gaze mischievously sharpened at him, like she could see right through him. 

“Oh, you know it's nothing like that~ I just want to measure the shape of the your unknown~”

 

Angelica was suspicious of him, and was thus testing him. Of what, he had no clue. Why, he had no clue. Regardless, he had to keep a closer eye on that vixen. 

Still, he should've been relieved. Rean’s behavior distracted his other friends from paying attention to his worsening slack. He wouldn't have to deal with their nagging and teasing and support.

Too bad there could be no relief when something as cold as death, something as heavy as a sinking anchor, and something as prickly as a thorned rose was stirring in Crow's gut. It was a ridiculous feeling— all feelings except bored amusement were ridiculous in this context. There wasn't supposed to be any real feelings within Crow's "life" at school.

As any other responsible adult, Crow squashed the feelings down like it was a bug, distracting himself with curiosity staying on the sidelines and watching Rean's classmates do all the hard work. He was no hero, and it wasn’t like he felt any kind of urgency with the situation—nor did he particularly care too much.

Well, until that little encounter in the forest with his junior and the other nobles.

“Please,” Rean had said, practically pleading with them to not tell anyone he almost broke a noble’s face because Elliot—who he supposedly didn’t care about—was being threatened. Crow at least had the decency to respect such wishes, especially when pure exhaustion and vulnerability was dripping off the raven's sagged shoulders. It was bad manners to kick a man when he was down after all.

But those lilac eyes—gentle on their best days and jaded on their worst—bled into a deep red for a moment. A deep, dangerous red that was on the verge of exploding, ready to consume everything around it with merciless flames. 

Some of the mystery kind of made sense then, why 'Gelica was being cautious and why Rean was estranging himself while obviously still caring. Crow could just smell the preluding ashes and danger.

He thought about his little game in the beginning of the year, trying to whittle down at that perfectly crafted mask little by little. If he wanted to know what Rean was hiding, now was the perfect time to crack the damned mask open.

And of course, since Crow was too invested at this point about Rean’s true secret, he went all in. Still not doing any of the hard work, he gave one of the members of Class VII a little hint just before leaving for an ILF meeting.

Whenever he returned, hopefully something would've changed…

 

---

 

“I swear to Aidios, if you don’t get out of my way right now, I'll cut you all down where you stand..!”

 

Blasting through the ominous swirls of fog was a bloodthirsty sword pointing in his direction, heralding the storm of change. Along with it was a distorted, echoing voice that sounded like a snarl from an abyss.

Patastrophe practically leaped out of the way before the sentence was even finished. Meanwhile, Crow leisurely stuck his hands in his pockets, ignoring the goosebumps prickling up his skin, and strolled away from the path. While he was naturally a rebel and wanted to do the opposite of what anyone told him, he did not plan to die today.  

The sight triggered a gut-instinct in him to wince, reminding him of the time McBurn asked him to spar and Crow only survived because he was piloting Ordine. Seriously, what was up with that black and red-ish aura leaking out of his body and billowing out around him like they were ready to incinerate everything in its way? 

Though, judging by the insane, furious look that emanated from Rean’s now-crimson eyes, the teen probably was planning on initiating a bloody slaughter. Crow was well-acquainted with the look of hatred, and this first-year had a glare like infernos in the darkness, intense enough to consume all of Erebonia.

It was a headache to compare this sight to the guy who climbed a tree to save a kitten, fell when the branch couldn't hold his weight and unceremoniously landed on Crow, who had been standing at the wrong place and wrong time. This was the same guy who made a comfortable bed out of a cardboard box and nurtured the kitten until it was adopted— the same guy who made Crow wish he was the fucking cat for a good two minutes.

If he wasn’t seeing this, he wouldn’t have believed it. It was such a peculiar sight; what exactly, or who exactly could be deserving of so much hate from a guy like Rean? What could possibly push Rean to tear off his peaceful act and blast everyone away with this uncharacteristically violent version of him?

The moment Crow’s foot stepped off the path of dirt, the ashen-haired teen bolted past the two witnesses. Immediately, the sound of doors creaking reached their ears. They turned to watch Rean nearly rip the doors off its hinges, slamming them against the adjacent walls, before he disappeared inside the building. 

Not after long, the doors fell back shut and the fog shrouded the building once again, continuing as if nothing happened. Silence weighed over the two remaining students, both trying to process what just happened and making sure they both didn’t just see an illusion.

While Crow wasn’t one to doubt his own senses, he was still kinda sleep deprived, and Vita’s little sis did say that this rickety old building was siphoning off everyone’s mana. Hell, he’s half sure there’s something magical going on with the constant fog over the past few days, so it wasn’t improbable that they just saw an illusion. He could honestly be hallucinating right now.

But then a spot of red caught his eye.

Small drops of blood were on the ground where Rean had stood

 

(The cold, heavy, and prickly feeling became like ice and iron, stabbing his gut and echoing through his entire frame.)

 

If he was a smart terrorist leader, he would stay the hell away from the guy. If Rean’s transformation was anything like McBurn’s, then this was definitely not something he could deal with alone, only able to use two orbal guns instead of his preferred weapon. It was not worth being killed by curiosity, especially when changes to his well-being would annoyingly change the ILF’s plans again. Plus, given how Rean, the damned trouble magnet, had gotten mixed up in two ILF operations already, maybe it was best to leave him to whatever trouble was waiting for him. 

Well, good thing that C was a smart terrorist leader. So far, none of the ironbloods were aware of his identity, nor were they aware of just what he would do next. There weren’t many who could boast that achievement, so he considered himself pretty damn smart right now.

There was only just one teensy tiny problem.

 

Crow had a slight unhealthy addiction to chaos. 

 

It’d only be natural for him to be pulled toward someone who was always at the center of disorder. While Rean’s transformation had initially caught him off guard, Crow couldn’t stop his interest from bursting through the stratosphere. It seemed like that damned mask had finally been ripped apart and revealed something wholly unexpected and troubling.

Really, a trouble magnet and a chaos addict. It was too risky of a combination, he was practically in danger of drowning in an abyss if he jumped in and this sea of problems proved to be as deep and enticing as it looked.

And unfortunately, if Crow Armbrust was anything besides the whole fraud thing he got going for him, it was that he liked gambling with high risks. If he won this gamble, he could finally satisfy his own curiosity, gain more knowledge on what to expect when he and Rean would inevitably clash as Awakeners, end his friends' worry over their wayward underclassman, and maybe be owed a fun favor by the other.

 

Those were the reasons why he took one step toward the schoolhouse.

 

He was not even a tad bit genuinely concerned for his junior. Nope. Not at all.

 

He took another step.

“Okay Patty-Cakes, you go tell some instructor about this. I’ll chase after him to make sure he doesn’t get too hurt.” There was no blood on that tachi, so he could only assume the blood came from Rean himself. 

The wide-eyed noble shouted at him in disbelief. “Do you have a death wish, Armbrust!? If you go after him, you’ll be the one who ends up hurt!”

“Aw, so you do care!” Crow winked, wiping the fear off the other’s face and replacing it with sputtered disgust. “I’ll be fine! It would ruin my reputation if I got beat up by a first-year. Just have a little faith in good ol’ Crow!”

“First off, your reputation is already in tatters! Second, I have absolutely ZERO faith in a slacker like you!” Patastrophe deadpanned at him before he turned around. “But fine! See if I care if you die by Schwarzer’s hand!”

---

The elevator was already stationed at the ground level, as if it was already waiting for him. On the control panel were five separate glowing lights, each marking a stage in the Divine Knight Trial. If Crow recalled correctly, Class VII had only completed three levels so far, so that must’ve meant the fourth and fifth levels must’ve opened recently. 

It was a little strange though, considering each level seemed to activate on a monthly basis, yet two new levels opened up only less than two weeks after the last trial. He really needed to ask Vita some questions whenever she got back from her opera-singing gig in Heimdallr. 

Before Crow could even ponder which floor to head to, a small black blur suddenly leaped onto the control panel and hit the fourth glowing button.

“Meow,” the black cat mewled, not at all phased by the way the elevator started its descent. 

Recovering from a little bit of shock, Crow wasn’t too surprised to see this cat’s behavior once he recognized it as the familiar belonging to Emma, according to Vita. It was probably monitoring the potential Awakener’s progress, just as Griannos had once done for his own trials.

Hopefully this cat wasn't as annoying—

"Hey, wait for me!"

The cheery announcement was followed by a turquoise and white blur suddenly landing beside Crow, revealing Class VII’s newest member hanging onto her silver combat puppet. 

The White Rabbit.

Cooling his expression, Crow pretended to focus on the moving walls and levels they were passing through, before lazily shifting his gaze to the girl. 

He could never figure out the reasoning for her transfer into this school. Part of him had thought it was related to him, but C and the ILF have yet to publicly announce their existence to the country. They haven’t done enough yet for their enemies to even think there was a spy in this school, let alone waste resources when they didn’t know what they were dealing with yet.

His only clue was that she must’ve been specifically placed in Class VII for a different reason, and that reason might be related to the curriculum of the class or the members inside of it. Though considering how she seemed more interested in making friends instead of the schoolwork, she probably had business with a student.

Like… A potential Awakener.

“Is it true that Rean’s here?” she asked, amber eyes sparking with a touch of worry. “That Patrick guy said that Rean would be here.”

Was her concern from their genuine friendship or from her duty? He wouldn’t be surprised if Osborne knew about this whole Awakener business and wanted to build up his own assets. Didn’t help that Vita said Awakeners were fated to clash; a clash between someone on Osborne’s side and Osborne’s future assassin might as well be engraved on some ancient, prophecy-telling stone somewhere.

“I’m following him right now,” Crow replied smoothly, masking his caution around the Ironblood. “He looked pretty strange when I saw him. Got any idea what happened?”

“Uhhh, I’m not really sure. He got into a really bad argument with his sister, and then jumped off the roof.”

“...What?”

No offense to her, but Millium was crap at explaining things. Unfortunately, before she could elaborate, her attention was stolen by the way the platform beneath their feet shook and abruptly halted, clicking in place with the fourth level. Unsurprisingly, she immediately leaped off the elevator and headed straight through the only door in the room, the black cat on her heels. 

Crow shook his head with a sigh, spending an extra moment checking his surroundings for anything amiss. As usual, the cold gray walls stared back at him, unscathed and clean, as if they had no memory of anyone or anything passing through. It was at least a good thing that there were no more signs of blood. 

With a couple lucky spins around his fingers, he pulled out his twin orbal guns before running through the wide doors and long corridor into the fourth trial. The first thing that hit his senses was the sound of running water, which were then deafened by frequent rumbles of groaning.

He kept running until the corridor opened into a room filled with platforms separated by streams of water but connected by bridges. A particularly loud whine from the left caught his ear, and he saw a crimson elk-like monster with boiling blood leaking out of several long cuts dragged across its body. It lay on its side on the floor, legs twitching and unintentionally pushing against the bunches of sepith scattered on the ground with it. 

Crow almost felt bad for it, but that didn’t stop him from aiming at its head and shooting. The monster combusted into vanishing black mist, leaving behind more colorful sepith to join the ones on the ground. 

He continued on his way, noticing the continued presence of blood trails, sepith, and dying monsters on his path. Killing spree might’ve been the best way to describe what Crow saw in Rean earlier; from what he was seeing, it was obvious Rean was blitzing through the trial, killing everything in its path yet not having the patience to look back and finish off any barely clinging to life.

There was no flinching as he pulled the trigger on his gun again and again and again. Barely living or not, he was going to take no chances around these things. 

Another thing he noticed was that none of the puzzles had been touched in this trial. There were still levers to pull and bridges to move in order to pave a dry path to the next room. Millium probably already cheated with her combat puppet, but Rean… 

Dark red footprints on the walls caught the corner of his eyes.

Well. Crow couldn’t run against the walls no matter how much he wanted to, so he begrudgingly finished the puzzle for the potential Awakener. After pulling a few levers and technically mercy-killing several other monsters drowning in their own blood, he finally reached the end of the room.

…Only to step through the door and be greeted by another room with an untouched puzzle and more dying monsters.

(Crow absolutely did not miss how much of a pain in the ass it was to finish his own trials to get Ordine).

Once he cleaned the second room up, he finally reached the resting area and hastily ran up the staircase connected to the boss’ room. He was greeted by the sights of Millium and the black cat standing by the wide open doors. Despite how he didn’t bother softening his footsteps, they paid him no attention, seeming entranced by—

A bright ray of light suddenly engulfed the area, but Crow caught sight of a lone shadow in the center of the boss’ room before he was blinded. 

“ ... it's not enough … ” 

The sound of Rean’s distorted hiss was followed by the familiar sound of a splash of sepith clinking against the cold, unbreakable floor. Crow didn’t have to wait for his eyes to readjust to the light to know that the potential Awakener just defeated a boss by himself, probably beating Crow’s record time.

It seemed like ol’ polite and honest Rean was hiding quite a bit of strength beneath his sleeves. He definitely didn’t need an entire class to help him tackle these trials. 

When his eyes finally readjusted to the light, he couldn't help but stop and stare at the room before him in awe. In the center of red spirals and rainbow glitter on the ground stood his junior, who seemed to be repelling all the colors in the world except for white, black and red. 

Sometime in the battle, his Class VII jacket and tie seemed to slip off, leaving him with black pants, black shoes, and a white shirt. His deathly pale skin and ashen hair only added to the white canvas of his figure. With the lack of colors on him, the ethereal scarlet gleam in his eyes, the red stained bandage on his arm, and the streaks of blood splattered across his shirt and skin only served to paint a bewitching, deadly picture. 

But all that wasn’t really drawing his attention.

It was the glowing, monochromatic visage of a woman hovering behind him.

A cloak of wafting shadows pooled around its body, only revealing the phosphorescent white skin of the lower half of her face which rested against the side of Rean's head, as well as the arms wrapped loosely around his neck.

Then, just for a moment, Rean's eyes softened, radiating chills of sorrow. It all vanished when his gaze shifted towards his audience and locked onto Crow’s, then the red anguish was drowned out by a dark, murderous storm. Hearing a snarl, Crow defensively leaned back, not ready to fight like this.

One footstep approached them, deafeningly echoing through the room. Almost another footstep followed, only to stop at the sudden, gentle humming from the phantom. This seemed to be the only thing that compelled Rean to tear his murderous gaze from Crow and Millium.

Without warning, the floor and walls violently shook as hard as an earthquake, causing Millium to lose balance and topple over. Reflexively, Crow caught her, though his eyes were trained on how Rean—the ghost warping out of visible existence before his eyes—began to turn around, away from them and toward where the walls were moving to open up and reveal a new passageway.

The Divine Knight Trial was shifting again. Past the newly-opened walls was a set of stairs leading down, and Rean wasted no time sprinting down.

Crow was waiting for Millium to sprint after him again—after all, if she was here, then he would let her deal with all the hard work while he would watch things unfold. Unexpectedly, she turned to face him, completely unable to hide the guilty look in her eyes.

“Can you go after him?” She was pale and shaking, failing to hide her unease as she sheepishly rubbed the back of her head. “I think I should do something here first.”

He didn’t expect Millium’s fear of ghosts to actually stop her, especially when Rean's 'safety' should probably be a priority to a 'friend' like her. However, he couldn’t refuse when the cat started clawing at his favorite boots and pointedly glared at him to go. He sent his obligatory see ya and don’t get into too much trouble before running after Rean, the cat running ahead of him. 

The sounds of boots clicking echoed through the long and lifeless staircase. There were many, many stairs. Too many stairs. Crow was dangerously close to following his random impulse to pull out his double sabre, using some kind of magic-summoning paper Vita had told him to only use in emergencies, and surf on it down the stairs. Too bad there were many reasons why it wouldn’t work, most of all the fact that he didn’t know how to surf anything at all. 

The stairs eventually ended, leading up to another big room. The layout was immediately familiar, showing one wide door and a station area for the massive elevator—

Said elevator suddenly descended from above, carrying familiar people with familiar voices. And, if he had to be honest, most of them looked like shit. The constant worry over a dear friend and having the mana gradually drained by this building must’ve been taking a heavy toll on them. 

“Armbrust! I see you’re still alive,” Patty-Cakes, the only one looking relatively fine, was the first to step off the elevator. The agitation he had displayed earlier was nonexistent, replaced by false arrogance. 

“And I see you didn’t bring any instructors,” Crow greeted him back with a fake disapproving shake of his head, eyes roaming over the entire crowd. It seemed like all the remaining members of Class VII were here, as well as an unfamiliar girl in a black dress. “You had one job, man!”

“I- I couldn’t find anyone in the damned fog, not to mention all the instructors are spread out looking for my missing classmate—"

"Don't you have any of their contact information?"

The question was swiftly ignored.

"—And then I just happened to bump into Lady Elise, who happened to be with the rest of Class VII, and she begged me to lead her to her brother! How could I refuse the tears of a noble woman?” 

“Is that what happened?” Elise glared at Patrick with puffy eyes and a disapproving pout. “According to my memory, you said I would never befriend a ruffian like him , so I smacked you and ran into this building. Then you chased me, begging for an apology.”

Huh. So that was why Patty-Cakes’ face had a red handprint on it.

“I- I—” he stuttered but no retort bubbled past his throat. 

“I don’t need your apology,” Elise huffed, coldly shrugging away from him. “Let’s hurry and find my brother already!”

An intentionally loud cough interrupted them, drawing their attention to Jusis. “Speaking of Rean, is he here?” He spared Patrick an uninterested glance. “I can’t say I completely trust Hyarms’ word here.”

Crow couldn’t suppress a laugh. “I'm touched to hear that you’d trust mine!”

A sharp hiss interrupted any reply, everyone turning to look at the black cat impatiently glaring at them from the doorway. Without wasting another second, the cat sprinted off into the fifth trial's first room. 

“Celine!” Emma was the first person to sprint after the cat, prompting everyone else to follow. For any of the members looking closely, they would’ve noticed a few drops of blood erratically staining the floor every here and there.

Running through the first corridor with the group, Crow didn’t waste any time to finally dig up some real answers. “Someone wanna give me the rundown on why Rean has red eyes and white hair and acts like he’s possessed by a demon?”

Nearly everyone shot a confused glance at him, before shifting to look at Elise. Her nonverbal response wasn’t comforting at all, her eyes widening in fear and skin breaking out a cold sweat. “He’s like that..? Oh no…” Her steps quickened, running faster than everyone else here.

Elise didn’t manage to get a word in by the time the corridor finally opened into a large room. Rean’s path of destruction, full of groaning, spasming monsters and the sprinkles of sepith were all visible to see in the three paths that branched out from where they were standing. The only things different were the species of monsters and the black flames slowly engulfing some of them, particularly the giant turtle-like monsters lying on their broken shells.

A terrified gasp escaped Machias, immediately moving to adjust his glasses in disbelief. “What the hell..?” 

“What a cruel sight,” Laura lamented, fist tightening around the hilt of her weapon. “Is this truly Rean’s doing..?”

“Not his style,” Fie answered quickly, but her eyes darkened in the direction of the black flames. “But I don’t know any other person capable of that.”

Silver eyebrows furrowed in confusion. Didn’t Rean have some kind of fear of fire? How did that chalk up to him being able to use black fire willy-nilly here?

A shuddering breath fell from Elise’s lips, but what drew Crow’s attention was Elliot in the corner of his vision, cautiously approaching one of the smaller monsters. It wasn’t burning nor was it bleeding due to being made up of some black-magenta jello, but several slashes were evident across its mangled body.

Crow raised his gun.

BANG

Elliot jumped away as everyone’s gaze darted to the tip of his gun. Crow shrugged as he flashed them an easy-going smile. “Those things turn anyone it touches into stone. It may look pathetic enough to want to give it sympathy, but don’t forget it’s still a monster. A dying monster is still a monster.”

It would do them well to remember this whenever he would reveal his true identity and inevitably get hit by divine karma.

“Monster…” Elise sighed dejectedly, to no one in particular. She then walked forward until she was several arge ahead of the entire group. She stopped, turning her head slightly to look back at them from the corner of her eye. 

“It shouldn’t be my place to share, but you all should know what’s happening before you accidentally get involved in something you don’t want to deal with…”

Lamentful eyes looked down at the rainbow glitters of sepith on the ground.

“I don’t know why he’s able to transform like that. I’ve only seen it once, but the result was very much like this: Him carving through all the threats in his way without mercy.”

“Was that when he killed those jaegers?” Fie asked, face and tone neutral. 

Elise weakly nodded, hands slightly shaking by her sides. Crow impassively looked to the side, trying to not look too intrigued. However, when the girl didn’t say anything else, looking like her mind was focused on the past, he tried to steer the direction forward.

“Well, since it happened before, at least you know how to solve it. Just do what you did last time to stop him and everything will resolve agai—.”

Oh crap. That was apparently not a good thing to say because a tear rolled down one of her cheeks, her whole face twitching in an effort to remain composed. 

“No…” she said under her breath, almost too quiet for anyone to hear. “I didn’t stop him. He stopped himself by… attempting suicide.”

Despite her small, shaking body, her hand rose and rested against her chest while her eyes gained a determined light. “When there is no longer anything in his way, he’ll… turn his blade against himself, thinking he’s the last threat. I want to stop him before he does that again, but that might cause him to fight us instead.”

A deep, shaky breath. 

“So… I would understand it if all of you wanted to stop here.”

A few seconds passed, everyone exchanged confused glances with each other, before Gaius asked, “Why would you think we would stop here?”

“I doubt Rean's shown this side of himself to you before.” She turned her head forward as she continued her brisk walk, allowing everyone to only see the back of her head. “I wouldn't be surprised if you thought it was scary. It would be understandable if you leave now because you don’t like what you see.”

Astonishingly, Patrick was the one who responded first and took a step toward Elise. “And leave you alone to deal with this whole mess by yourself? Where would my manners be?”

If the atmosphere surrounding nearly everyone wasn't so heavy, Crow would've snickered. Oh this guy caught a bad case of the love-at-first-sight disease. Unfortunately for Patrick, Elise didn't seem to appreciate this as much as the rest of the class, so she ignored him.

The classmates all shared glances with each other, until one of them eventually spoke up.

“Honestly, I don't think anyone here is actually bothered by this weird power he has…” Alisa trailed off, lips pulling into a flat line as her eyebrows knitted in deep thought. "Putting aside all the questions, they just—" Her eyes squeezed shut. "We just want our friend back."

The others shared her thoughts, nodding with bright determination.

"And you?" Crow blinked, realizing that Elise was now speaking to him. "Are you going to continue with us, um…”

Realizing he never introduced himself to her, he responded with a playful wink. “Name’s Crow Armbrust, at your service~ As for the question of me ditching you guys...”

One day, sure—

(He saw the wispy visages of Towa's pouts during her well-meaning lectures, the first bumps with George after forcing him to help out with his gambling, and the bandages he and 'Gelica shared when they had accidentally got ambushed by a group of bandages. He also remembered the curious look Rean shot him with when he was caught losing to some kids, as well as the roll of those lilac eyes when his swim-suit magazine was snatched from his hands and replaced with a boring textbook thrown at his face.

He looked past his memories, to the present now with these members of Class VII. Flashes of their hilarious reactions to him stealing their money overlapped with their current solemn expressions for just a brief moment.)

—But not today.

“Nah, I’m gonna keep tagging along! I wouldn’t be the reliable senior you all know and love if I didn’t help out~”

The ensuing groans and shaken heads were something Crow took great pride in.

"Okay then." Elise was facing them, smiling gratefully at them. "Let's bring my brother back."

After that, it didn’t take long to reach the end of the level, especially with all the incapacitated monsters and with how they could split up and finish the puzzles faster. Their footsteps only faltered when they ran up the stairs to the boss room.

A loud, pitiful growl echoed from the room, a sound easily deduced to come from the large cryptid-looking monster stood at the center of the room, leering down on their lone swordsman. Some gashes were strewn across the monster’s azure skin, its damaged cells were already disintegrating into black ashes.

Crow hung at the rear end of the group, listening to the gasps of his companions while his eyes drifted toward the back of the room where a massive red door stood, before drawing his vision towards Rean. The guy looked as delusional as before, bearing the same heinous energy but also looking like a zombie. After passing through two trial floors and beating a boss already, it was a miracle that he was still standing.

But Aidios, with the amount of blood that had been dripping from Rean since he entered the Old Schoolhouse, Crow had to wonder how much blood the guy had left.

“Leave this to us!”

Without any other word, the members of Class VII nodded to each other before dispersing into a formation familiar to themselves. Crow took his place to stand at the sidelines by Elise and Patty-Cakes, who looked like they couldn’t join the fight without hindering the others. 

Rean seemed to finally notice their presence, his eyes darting toward the members of Class VII as a growl escaped through his clenched teeth. The monster used his momentary distraction as an opportunity to stand up on its hind legs, to then let gravity crash its upper body against the floor. Shockwaves were followed by glaciers of ice rising from the ground to hit everyone in the area.

Crow quickly grabbed both Elise and Patrick to move them out of danger while keeping everyone else in his line of vision. There was no cause for concern as everyone else either shielded themselves or jumped out of the way. Rean, having leaped into the air to dodge the attack, used gravity and his own momentum to slash the enemy from above, effortlessly staggering it.

 

And… wow.

Crow could see everything. 

He’d seen it before, but it was always a treat to watch the synchronicity of this class. Almost like clockwork, the rest of his classmates didn’t hesitate to use this opportunity to deal as much damage as they could while the monster couldn’t attack. None of them even flinched when Rean sent a nasty glower towards them as he landed on the floor, keeping his sword unsheathed. For a moment, Crow thought Rean’s clear lack of mind would make him target his own classmates when he raised his sword again

And, while Crow had many questions about the sword techniques that did not belong to the Eight Leaves One Blade style, Rean only moved when all his classmates finished their rush of attacks, igniting his blade in a mix of black and red flames.

The resulting torrent of flames engulfed the giant monster, burning it until it was only a pile of ashes and a splash of sepith on the ground. For a moment, they could almost pretend this was the usual monthly dungeon-crawling experience in the Old Schoolhouse.

Of course, that wasn’t the case. 

“Why…” Rean was squinting at all of them, as if he couldn’t make sense of what he was looking at. As if he didn’t know what to do with the information that there were non-hostile people here. It only took a few second-long pause for a fragment of light to reach his dull eyes, suddenly pushing him to shout, “What are all of you doing here?!”

Crow could see everything, how everyone—except Patrick—was unfazed by Rean’s uncharacteristic burst of anger. Elise shifted, preparing to step toward her brother, but Laura moved first, standing directly in his line of sight.

Laura stood tall, gaze unwavering as she responded with a firm voice.

“We’re here to protect you.”

Crow could see everything.

The tension in Class VII’s muscles, the determined light in their eyes, and the resolve carrying their weight. He could see Elise step back, yet still stand firm, as if she decided to place all her faith in her brother’s classmates. He could see Patrick’s eyes widen, mouth slightly falling to release a silent gasp.

But, most of all, he could see a thin string of his underclassman’s sanity snap, heralding his descent into madness with a maniacal laugh.

“Protect me?”  

Then, it wasn't long before he couldn't see anything at all .

 

---

---

 

Protect… me?!

A hysterical laugh echoes through the hollow walls. Is it coming from himself? Probably. It is hilarious after all. It's hilarious how dumb those words sound as they foolishly roll off his tongue! How funny! How stupid! 

“That sort of nonsense will only get yourselves killed!”

Haha! It hurts. It hurts… Oh, it has always hurt. But now it's just outright unbearable. It's like pressure keeps building upon the crushing pain in his chest, a constant reminder of being destroyed from the inside out. 

Oh he’s laughing. 

Why is he laughing?

“That’s what my parents said and they’re—” Haunted! Forgotten! Trapped!

Dead! 

He wants to scream out the truth. He wants this hollow sounding board of these dumb colors to hear him scream, to hear the anguish of someone who keeps failing to move on.

Maybe then, they would learn to not protect a failure.

But he doesn’t scream, not in the right way, not in the way that will lift this unbearable pressure off his lungs. Only frenzied laughter overtakes him again, an exaggeration of his habit to show everyone that this… is fine.

“That’s what I said and… Well, just look at this!”

That everything is absolutely fine.  

“Look at me!”

Me.

He doesn’t need a mirror to know his hair is the color of ashes, a reminder that he is a cursed remnant of his burnt down house, the only one who witnessed the whole incident and was forced to keep on living with all the scars. He already knows that his eyes reflect a sea of blood, boiling and deep with fear and hatred, not unlike the eyes of Ishmelga in the shadows.

This is undeniably him. It’s not someone he wants to be, but he can’t change the fact that it’s him right now. This has always been him! He can’t change this..!

His vision catches movement, and he accusingly glares at the colors which surround and mock him. The edge of his blade desperately wants to slice through all of it, tear it to shreds.

“Even if I care about you, I’ll still hurt you!”

Tear it to shreds…

“—Even when I’m the one who should die—!” Something wet is traitorously trailing down his cheeks, dripping off his chin. He's still laughing. Or maybe he's crying. There’s no difference to him. It’s all meaningless anyway. "You're the ones who'll end up dead, because of me..!” 

"Rean, stop!"

Can’t stop. He can't stop. For the world, for his dad, for everyone— he can't ever stop moving until he does what he needs to do. It's the only way he can't do more wrong. It’s the only way he can hide from the past.

“D on’t you dare say you want to protect me!"

The colors blur and shift even more, his eyes sting and burn too much to be able to see anymore. The only color that sticks out are the blossoms of crimson red. 

It's such an alluring color on his skin…

"And just let me— “

SLASH

 ̸̡̛ ̷̘͗    ̴̢̘̰̦̔̌̓ ̷̛̓̍͂̐̍͑̓̈̀͂̓ͅ    ̷̡̢̡̧͉̗͎͍̜͓̤͚̮̻̘͒̂̏̅͑͂̈́̇̋̔̽͋́͗͐̊̿̒̚̚͜͝ ̵̡̫̳̳̞̟̩͎̲͚͎̃͝͝ͅ   .̶͎͌̀̄͆   .̵̢̰͈̱̩͓͑ ̴̜͚̜̈́͗̍̈́̈̃͜͝   .̸͙̉ ̶̢̎   .̷̮̕ ̷͇͔͈̫̣̂̍͗̎     ̷̧̛̠̖͚̣̱͖͖̲̰̲̤̏̈́̎̃̈́̓͊    ̸̨͔̞̣̟͑̄͗̀͝͠ ̵̢̭̥̘͍̱̗̯͎̠͓͉͇͓̪́̈́̾̑͂͋̎̅̓̈́̔͆̽͌́̏͋̇̄ ̴̨̛̛̗̪̪̯̠̩̣͇͈̗̦̩͓͛͂̍͋͌́̏̇̀̃̿̀̓͌̕͝ ̴̠͕̟̯͚͇̍ ̶̧̞̥̬̍̊͑̾͛̈́͗̏̀  ̷̺͍̤̰̍ ̵͍̳͔̗̠̥͎̬̹̥̩̱͌̃̅ ̵̛̥͙̹̫̼̠̝͎͊    ̸̧̦̀̋ 

There’s a sudden flash of blue that washes over him, clearing away the mesmerizing red. The other irrelevant colors are converging towards him, moving almost frantically. They’re trying to stop him. He can’t let them stop him. 

He swings his sword out, metal whistling through the air before it catches on fire, guided by black wisps as a wave of dark flames disperse around him and consume all the light in the room. All colors are erased by the darkness, but he can still sense the presence of life around him.

It isn’t long before light suddenly radiates from one point— from the staff of the Witch, allowing others to see their allies, their enemy, and the flames. He doesn’t like that. He doesn’t like seeing the light, seeing the colors, hearing the names attached to the colors. 

Everything should just be oblivion.

The Witch needs to go away first. 

He just doesn’t know how, when she’s the farthest one away and the others are in his way. He could just kill everything again, but this Witch—

(Two more to go)

—is still special. He still hasn’t broken their link, and that is something that must be fixed. 

His knuckles brush against his ARCUS when his gaze locks with the Witch’s. She looks so apprehensive, so confused. They all do, wondering why he’s not making another move. She has no idea that he can cripple her in an instant.

“̷R̵e̸a̸n̷—̸”̴

CLICK

It’s such a strange feeling, to link with someone again. The last two times had felt like an anvil had been dropped onto his chest, crushing his lungs, heart, and the ice beneath his feet, dragging him down into frigid waters where no more hope could be left for him. It doesn’t bother him this time, now used to the feeling, and readily accepts it.

Unlike the others, he doesn’t shatter the link immediately. He keeps his eyes on her, watching the Witch’s face suddenly morph into dread and panic, before her legs fail her and she sinks to her knees. There are shouts for her name, telling her to do the obvious.

The Witch refuses, struggling to keep her head up, one eye squeezed shut and the other barely staying open to return his cold, scarlet gaze. She knows exactly what he wants, yet she refuses to give it to him.

Just shatter the link.

Shatter it.

Let go of him…

 

A chill runs up his spine the exact moment her eyes lose focus and begin to roll up.

   ̴̷̼͎̘̬̬̞̻̺̹̾̾̇̇ ̵͇͇͎̥̘̉     S̴̲̜̟̻̥̱̖̀̔̅̄̔͗̑̄̚ ̵̧͓̦̰̬̻̞͖͙͙̟̯̜̉͌͗̊̈́̈̄͛̔͒̓̇̽͝  H̵̝̭̽͐̃̐́̈́͝  A T T̶̗͔̬̦̬̥̂̅̅ ̵͚͇͔̲̟̩͔̫͐̒͑ Ę̵̍̈́ ̶̤͙̼̘̤̏̿̚  R̵͎̻̽͗   ̷̞̊̌̍̋ ̴̼̮͈̘̃́̉̆͗ ̷͚̹̱̦͚̃ ̶̤̙̍͑͝ —

He doesn’t think about why he spares her, shattering the link himself. It doesn’t matter anyway, the Witch is down, and so is the bright, ethereal light from her staff. All is dark again except for the minimal glows that exude from the scarlet embers staining the battlefield.

One more to go

There is relief in knowing that there is only one more left. Soon, he can…

A presence charges their way toward him. He effortlessly blocks with his tachi, vaguely noting the strength of the Knight is even weaker than last time.

“Snap out of it, R̶e̷a̵n̵!̴”̷

His attention is more focused on how the darkness recedes again from the rain of golden light coming from the Archer. The Mage beside her focuses on dousing the flames with water arts. He should target them next, but—

CLANG

The Knight is relentless. It would be okay if it was just her, but she’s not alone. While his sword is locked with hers, the Jaeger takes this opportunity to stalk up behind him, gunblades swinging. Very narrowly, he manages to twist his body by kicking the Knight away, only getting a cut on his arm before he retreats.

It’s fine, he’s cut himself there before. It’s only annoying that the bandage covering his proof of self-harm limply falls away. How much blood has he lost at this point? The question is a waste of mental effort, especially when another blue glow washes over him and his wounds close up.

It’s odd. How they heal him after they cut him. How they still choose to heal him when he’s hurting them. What foolishness, but he doesn’t mind it. 

What he does mind is how he’s surrounded again by people. By colors.

By silhouettes. 

The Knight and the Jaeger are the closest to him, waiting to attack or to defend. The Lord is not too far from them, shouting commands and boosting everyone’s strength, while the Rook raises his shotgun to pierce through time and allow all his allies to keep up with his speed. Not too far from them is the Spearman, staying back to support while guarding the Archer, Mage, and the downed Witch. He also can’t forget about the Trickster on the opposite side of the room, aiming with guns and standing next to the Sister and the Noble. 

With how the odds are suddenly stacked against him right now, they might actually be able to stop him. 

Inhale… Exhale…

When the barrier of time is shattered and all his enemies begin to make their moves, he closes his eyes. Not to surrender. Not to stop. He can still fight.

 

“Flames, gather on my blade..!”

 

It shouldn’t be a spectacle at this point. He has already created so many flames in the past hour, it shouldn’t be any different from the last Obsidian Blaze he’d thrown at them. The difference is that this technique comes from the Master, not the Father. It’s more appropriate for the weapon in his hands, therefore the attack will be faster and more efficient. 

It will be for the best, even if cursed flames must meet a divine teaching. 

 

SLASH

 

It’s for the best, so that the self-hatred within him will finally end him…

 

SLASH

 ̸̡̛ ̷̘͗    ̴̢̘̰̦̔̌̓ ̷̛̓̍͂̐̍͑̓̈̀͂̓ͅ    ̷̡̢̡̧͉̗͎͍̜͓̤͚̮̻̘͒̂̏̅͑͂̈́̇̋̔̽͋́͗͐̊̿̒̚̚͜͝ ̵̡̫̳̳̞̟̩͎̲͚͎̃͝͝ͅ   .̶͎͌̀̄͆   .̵̢̰͈̱̩͓͑ ̴̜͚̜̈́͗̍̈́̈̃͜͝   .̸͙̉ ̶̢̎   .̷̮̕ ̷͇͔͈̫̣̂̍͗̎     ̷̧̛̠̖͚̣̱͖͖̲̰̲̤̏̈́̎̃̈́̓͊    ̸̨͔̞̣̟͑̄͗̀͝͠ ̵̢̭̥̘͍̱̗̯͎̠͓͉͇͓̪́̈́̾̑͂͋̎̅̓̈́̔͆̽͌́̏͋̇̄ ̴̨̛̛̗̪̪̯̠̩̣͇͈̗̦̩͓͛͂̍͋͌́̏̇̀̃̿̀̓͌̕͝ ̴̠͕̟̯͚͇̍ ̶̧̞̥̬̍̊͑̾͛̈́͗̏̀  ̷̺͍̤̰̍ ̵͍̳͔̗̠̥͎̬̹̥̩̱͌̃̅ ̵̛̥͙̹̫̼̠̝͎͊    ̸̧̦̀̋ 

.

| FOURTH LOCK RELEASED… INITIALIZATION COMPLETE |

.

“Stop it, Rean!”

It’s loud. Everything’s so loud, so deafening. The voice in his head talking about some lock. The shrieks of the rising sea of flames, which have hurt nearly everyone, which continue to hurt hurt and hurt. The pounding in his ears and his head cannot compare to their pain.

Wasn't it ugly, the rage and all the resultant pain? And it was all his, wasn't it.

“Please, stop hurting yourself!”

It’s just a small cut, nothing compared to how a few swings of his sword have reduced nearly everyone to a knee, at best. It must be a nightmare. Or a hallucination. Anything but real.

But the red is still here. The physical stings of pain are still here.

The people he keeps hurting are still here. Oh why are they still here…

.

| POTENTIAL AWAKENER WAVEFORM CONFIRMED WITHIN 50 ARGE |

.

“SHUT UP!”

Someone is holding his hand, the one holding onto his sword. She’s exerting force to pull his hand, and the sword by extension, away from his bloody forearm. It’s futile because she is too close… but how did she get so close?

“I don’t want to see you hurt!” she screams. 

She cries. Tears were dripping relentlessly to mix with blood, adding to his pool of sins. 

He’s already hurting, but not from this. This doesn’t hurt enough to scream. This doesn’t bleed enough to soothe his boiling urge to cut everything apart. It’s not enough. 

It’s never enough. 

“I don’t care!”

“But then you’ll die!”

He pushes her away, more forcefully than how he pushed her away on the rooftop. She lands at a distance on her side as he turns to step away. 

.

| COMMENCING THE FIRST TRIAL |

.

The building shakes and screams, compounding the quakes wrecking his mind. The flames are still dancing, the other colors are still alive, but there is suddenly an abundance of red shining on the wall. A door of the same color begins to open, revealing a giant contraption with a massive sword in its hands. 

It’s shaped like a headless human, but it moves like a program. Its toes are noticeably pointed at the black and pale color on the ground, the one he had just pushed away.

Only a moment passes when the contraption’s feet push against the ground, leaping toward the Sister. 

 

He doesn’t know what’s going on anymore when his muscles move on their own, and suddenly he’s launched into the air until his back hits the ground. His body rolls and rolls farther away from the colors until there are no more cackling flames and, more importantly, no more colors.

There is no one here anymore.

There is no one in his way anymore.

Except…

“One more… to go..!”

When there is no more to go… he will have made everything right. Just one more link to slice through, just one last monster to slay, and then everything will be alright..!

 

His hands shake. They shake so much, much of his strength sapped from his fight with the others. But, it’s alright. The cold chill of steel comfortingly caresses his neck. His eyelids gently fall shut as a faded smile pulls at his lips, welcoming the feeling.

At last…

 

Inhale… Exhale…

Inhale… Exhale…

Inhale… Exhale…

The quivering blade slides and meets his skin.

I'm sorry—

S H A T T E R

 

---

---

 

Crow couldn’t breathe. It felt like just the simple act of releasing the air from his lungs would cause Class VII to lose. At some period in the midst of Class VII’s battle with Rean, he found himself actively rooting for them.

His feelings usually ranged from indifferent and weak amusement to cold-blooded revenge, but even he was sick to his stomach when Rean’s response to his classmates’ pleas to save him was a slice to his own body. An unorthodox battle was inevitable after that, the members of Class VII having to heal their opponent, stop him from causing further harm to himself, and subdue him without further injury to him while avoiding his lethal attacks.

And maybe they had a chance, if Rean was a normal opponent. But, he wasn’t normal, being capable of crippling Emma with the force of linking their ARCUS’ up together alone. And even when the class managed to get the upper hand afterwards with stellar teamwork—elements of all kinds had managed to converge on the guy while Laura had launched Fie to get close enough to take him down at the last moment—Rean unleashed an attack that covered the whole room, blinding and burning everyone in his sights.

Even though he’d been doing absolutely nothing throughout the whole battle, standing behind as backup was his excuse. At the least, he still used whatever time he had to protect himself along with Elise and Patrick with Adamantine Shield just in case.

Just in case indeed.

Amongst the chaos and confusion, Elise—followed by Patrick—ran toward her brother while Class VII were desperately trying to recover as fast as possible. Between all the smoke and lack of light in the room, he could barely see anything until the bright red doors at the back of the room glowed and opened up.

Uncanny timing, but the giant, headless knight that came out of it could distract Rean long enough for the others to heal themselves and get back into formation. 

Except that one attack was enough to launch Rean out of the room, and the headless knight relentlessly continued to target Elise. Patrick was finally useful and tried to maneuver Elise out of the way while whoever else was awake—Crow could barely tell who was still in action in this cursed darkness—tried to distract the headless knight. The telltale sounds of heavy sword swings and piercing strikes were enough to give him confidence that they could maybe manage.

Maybe.

Alright, it was time to stop slacking, or else they would obviously get suspicious of him. He rushed toward where he predicted the downed students were, uncorking some healing items to heal whoever he found first.

He found Alisa first. She was no Elliot, but she would have to do for now. After slathering a reviving balm on her face, she coughed and weakly grasped at his arm. 

“Go after Rean,” she hissed, barely able to keep one eye open.

“You should worry about your own hides,” Crow dropped his teasing manner and gestured toward the headless knight who was now blocking the exit. “At this rate, no one will come out alive.”

“We’ll be fine, I’ll make sure of it.” Even when her whole face was grimacing, her lone eye was still shining with determination and promise. “But someone needs to go after him, and you’re the only one in the best condition to go alone and avoid his attacks and distract him from killing himself!”

Crow couldn’t help but laugh hollowly as he passed her a Tear Balm and charged the EP on her ARCUS. “I’m sorry, but have you seen me in battle?” 

She rolled her eyes as she leaned on him to help her stand up. “You’re barely passable, but it’s enough.” Then, she patted his back with shaky hands. “Now go and be the reliable senior you claim to be and look out for your juniors.”

“You—” No. Nevermind. This was no time for teasing. “Alright then, I’ll show all you juniors why Ol’ Crow is the best.” He eyed the headless knight in the distance, still focusing on Elise but not budging from its spot. If he remembered correctly…

“Aim for the joint in its arms, I think that’s the weak point. I’ll use that opening to slip through.”

If she wondered how he knew that, she didn’t make a comment about it. 

Not another moment was spared when he ran as fast as he could toward the headless knight. On his signal, a golden arrow pierced through its elbow, stopping its movements for a moment. It was enough for Crow to get through but not any others.

For their peace of mind, he called out to them, “I’ll handle Rean! You guys just focus on surviving!”

He had to shield his eyes when he left the room, the light returning to his senses in full force now that the light-sucking flames were nowhere near. He couldn’t help the feeling of relief soaring through his veins now that he was out of that hellhole.

To then have his heart stop when his eyes adjusted to the sight before him.

There, Rean kneeled, holding the sharp end of his blade against his neck. The muscles in his arms were shaking and tense, ready to snap and end it all.

Oh.

He was too late.

He could only numbly watch as the blade slid against skin. He couldn’t do anything. 

 

Just like back then…

 

 

 

“ADAMANTINE SHIELD!”

S H A T T E R

Crow’s heart started beating again at a rapid pace, the blood rushing back to his head to make sense of what was going on. The sword bounced off of Rean’s skin, only leaving behind a thin red streak behind. They both stared in shock at the opposite end of the room, where Millium was standing, grinning widely while tightly holding her ARCUS out.

“I won’t let you die, Rean!”

How the hell had she casted that art so fast? She had clearly arrived after Crow. Or maybe he was fucking losing it already and she'd been there the whole time?

Whatever, he'd have to ponder that later, especially since tension and anger seemed to rise within Rean’s muscles and expression. His eyes caught Millium’s gaze once more as an unspoken agreement was passed between them, their ARCUS’ immediately syncing with each other.

Crow raised his gun while Millium rushed forward to the teen in the center of the room, intending to finally stop this madness while Rean was still on the ground. Unfortunately, Millium’s forte wasn’t speed while Rean’s was. He’d pushed himself back to his feet before the girl could reach him, sprinting in the opposite direction— towards Crow.

“OUT OF MY WAY!”

And— Gehenna— He was not equipped to fight at close combat, nor was he equipped to fight without killing or badly injuring—

“Adamantine Shield!”

Rean’s tachi managed to smack one of Crow’s orbal guns out of his hands before the blade bounced away from his body. His blood was pumped full of adrenaline at his clear disadvantage, but confusion also managed a place in his racing mind.

Really, what orbments did she feed her ARCUS to cast so fast? 

“Crow!”

He grit his teeth, using Rean’s temporary shock to grab his arm and manifest all of his memories of ‘Gelica wrestling him into defeat.

But. This guy. Was. Too. Damn. Strong.

It was pathetic, and maybe embarrassing, when Crow ended up being the one pulled and pushed away, barely managing to use his remaining gun to parry an incoming sword-swing and— Well, he couldn’t just wildly shoot at the guy, damnit!

He leapt a few spaces back, landing right next to Millium.

“You think you can distract him for me?”

“Well, I’ve been trying to, but it looks like he really wants to kill you first, Crow! Though, to be fair, if I had to choose who to kill first between you or me, I’d choose you first too!”

“Sheesh, how nice it is to hear how loved everyone’s favorite senior is!”

“Die!”

Crow cursed under his breath, jumping to the side when Rean launched himself back toward his direction. They were essentially playing a game of tag now, which was at least preferable over the deathmatch earlier. He’d also noticed how Rean’s movements were slightly more sluggish than before.

Looks like Class VII’s prior efforts weren’t ineffective. .

“Alright, I’ll create an opening for you,” Crow yelled out, breathless while somewhat dodging Rean’s relentless wave of sword swings and there on his skin. “You better be fast, Shortstack!”

“I will! Oh, but I can’t cast anymore arts because I ran out of EP, so uh… No pressure?”

He’d be annoyed if his life wasn’t already full of knowing that one mistake could cost him his life. It was a blessing to know that someone had his back in the first place, even if it was an Ironblood. 

Thankfully, the lag in Rean’s movements was growing more apparent. Maybe he didn’t need to take any risks at all because he was beginning to see plenty of chances for a counterattack. 

Perhaps this was the winning strategy, to let Rean overexert himself until he would faint. It would be a battle of endurance. Unfortunately, the streaks of red on the ground was still an issue. While Millium was managing to cast healing arts here and there on Rean, there was no way it would be enough. And, there would be no point in prolonging this battle if Rean just died from blood loss…

Yeah okay, he should end this now.

After twisting his body to dance away one more swing of Rean’s tachi, he let his gun spin twice around his fingers before aiming it towards his opponent’s wrist. There, that should be a good spot to hit. One weak orbal bullet could sprain his wrist, but at least it would be enough to cause Rean to drop his weapon.

With one signature smirk, his finger pulled the trigger and—

Nothing happened. 

 

Just his luck.

 

“Die!”

 

This was it, huh? Slain by an eighteen year-old having a mental breakdown because his gun decided to malfunction. 

 

What a shitty way to die.

 

“CROW!”

The air was punched out of his lungs when a sudden force pushed him, causing his back to slam against the floor. Streaks of dense liquid hit his face, his eyes barely catching the turquoise blur flying across the room and crashing against the wall. 

His own breathing nearly stopped, mind full of confusion as he tried to process what just happened. 

Did Millium protect him?

Seeing how he was mostly unscathed while the girl was laying against the cracked wall like a stringless puppet was enough proof to know the answer to that question, but his mind dove into the spiral of 

Why did Millium do that when it could’ve gotten herself killed?!

Why, when they barely fucking talked to each other because he’d mostly been avoiding her?!

Why was Rean’s blade finally pointed away from him and now pointed at her?!

Why was he panicking over this?!

 

Crow found himself on his feet before he even thought to stand, muscles bringing himself toward the two until his racing thoughts froze. What the hell was he doing? Both his guns were useless right now— he had nothing to stop Rean’s sword from killing either of them now! All he had were his fists, but what was he planning to do? Punch the blade away?

If only he had another weapon with him—

 

He did.

 

The piece of paper tucked in his glove felt like it was burning through his skin. A simple trick with witch-imbued magic would be enough to summon his double saber—

No.

No.

That would ruin everything.

These people were not worth putting his plan into jeopardy.

They were not worth it.

Millium's apparent faith in him wasn't worth it.

Rean's life and sanity were not worth it.

All things considered, it would probably benefit him if both of them died. 

He should just give up and let them die.

 

Rean’s stance shifted into something much like an executioner ready to chop a criminal’s head off. 

 

Fuck

 

“DIE!”

 

A blue flash of light engulfed the room as sparks flew between a tachi and a dual-bladed saber. 

 

Rean had spun around at just the last second, catching Crow's saber with his blade.

 

Fuck fuck fuck—

"Why won’t you get out of my way?!"

Crow didn’t know anymore. Rean would be gone from his life one way or the other. In the long run, none of this mattered. 

"BECAUSE YOU’RE BEING A COMPLETE DUMBASS!"

The shout of his words came out before he even knew what he was saying. It felt like something was stirring inside of him, pushing against his aloof mask to be set free. The sudden rush of anger coursing through his veins could rival the thundering pulses of his heart whenever he thought of Osborne.

He hated this feeling. He didn’t come to this fucking school to feel like this.

"I don't deserve their kindness. They can finally give up on me—" And the feelings couldn’t stop pouring out with his words as he mocked Rean's beliefs with bitterness, the growing fury within him matching the other’s heated glare. "What the hell are you talking about?! If they REALLY gave no fucks about you, then they wouldn't waste a single moment turning their backs on you!"

Like the people of Jurai.  

He needed to shut up. This was dangerous territory. One outburst alone was revealing too much about himself. Somehow this was getting personal.

But the words couldn’t stop flowing. His buried heart… couldn’t stop bleeding. 

"You're the one who needs to get a fucking reality check! I've seen them— They're doing EVERYTHING they can to keep you by their side, and yet you still want to throw all their effort away by GIVING UP?!"

 

Like his grandfather..!

 

.̶̠̘̪͓̓̔̊   .̸̢̠͓̭̓̀̌͝   .̴̧̣͍̩͊͗́͌̓̐̆́̒̈́̚̕   .̸̛̥̖̂̅   .̷

“Sorry brat…” The hand that had been brushing back his silver locks of hair moved down to wipe away a single tear. “But I just can’t keep going…”

“Pops… Why not?!” He angrily snatched that old hand with both of his, holding it tightly. It felt so cold. “Why not?! You’re hurting a lot, so what?! Weren’t you the one who kept telling me to move FORWARD?! Relentlessly?! No matter how much it hurts?!”

“Hah… There are some exceptions… You’ll understand one day, Crow…”

No..!

“I don’t want to understand! I don’t want you to leave! It can’t hurt that much if we’re together, right?!”

Pops simply turned his head toward him and cracked a gentle smile. He had no right to look so peaceful when he was burdening his grandson with a flood of fury and despair.

“C’mon! Stay with me!” His voice was shaking. His hands were trembling around the deadweight it was holding. Unbidden tears rolled down his face, dropping onto the sheets of the bed. “I swear I’ll even be good! I’ll do all the child labor you drop on me, you old fart, just don't…”

“...”

“...don’t leave me…”

 ̷͊͜    ̵̯̾     ̴̢̛͈̂̀̑    ̶̧̨̝̀̎͛̇̚͜    ̴͕̩̏̒͠

Shit.

Those words. This situation. Everything.

 

It all stirred something within Crow.

The emotions and memories of a cursed time. The sadness that beckoned his tears and the bitterness that commanded his raging blood. They were all supposed to be dead, only to echo hollowly throughout the rest of his short lifespan.

But now it was pulsating.

C L A S H

And unraveling every time their blades struck and sent shockwaves through his arms.

This thing… These things… that Crow thought he buried in the ground a long time ago, they climbed and clawed their way toward the surface of his soul and— 

 

“You don’t understand anything!” Rean insanely bellowed out and leapt back; a black flame-like substance was licking along his sword’s edge as he raised his weapon.

 

—burst into life.

 

A swing from his own weapon was enough to silence the other's flames.

 

Fuck fuck fuck. He was screwing with all his plans so badly. Summoning his double saber was one thing—still an absolute shitshow—but he could bluff out of it somehow. However, tapping into his connection with Ordine and recklessly using Azure Destiny because of some emotional outburst?

Just fuck.

Oh fucking whatever! That was future Crow’s problem! What was done was done and he should focus on finally putting an end to Rean’s madness. 

As well as his own, because Aidios— Gehenna— Whoever or whatever was watching—

Crow was furious that his pain from the past came back— indignant that the old pain still hurt so much— hateful of the guy standing in front of him— and so hurt that he wanted to hurt the guy who brought these cursed feelings back to life..!

Only the irrational nature of emotions could explain why Crow suddenly hurled his saber at the teen with all of his renewed strength. At least the attack interrupted Rean, forcing him to change his stance to defend himself from the incoming attack at the last second. 

However, the force of blocking the weapon was apparently strong enough to stagger Rean, allowing Crow just enough time to dash forward and collide into his chest with his upper body while also grabbing Rean’s right wrist—the appendage still holding onto the tachi. With the momentum he had from running forward, he pushed the teen down to the floor while using all his strength to crash Rean’s swordhand against the ground. 

Rean was already shrieking out in pain by the time his back hit the ground and Crow was somewhat aware that he might’ve broken his hand, but that didn’t matter because the sword finally slipped from the other's grasp and Crow was split between the relief that Rean couldn’t attempt to stab himself again and the wrath of—

“What don’t I understand?!” Crow snarled, glaring so deeply into red eyes with a darkness so painfully familiar to him. For a moment he thought he was seeing triple. Of Rean. Of Pops. 

Of a mirror. 

No.

Crow wouldn't let his feelings control him. He was the type to control his impulses and direct them toward his greater goal. He was too calm and collected to do anything reckless.

 

He was in control— His fist decked Rean across the face.

“Is it that you’re so blind you can’t even see how much people love you?!”

 

Every move was calculated by logic, not emotion— Another punch. Blood flew.

“That you’re so selfish that you want to leave everyone and everything behind?!”

 

Crow Armbrust was only a phantom, a mask. There weren't even any emotions to override his actions— Another.

Another.

Another.

“That you’re so weak that you’re looking to die?!"

 

(Ah…)

What was he saying?

What was he doing?!

Why was he getting so riled up over this? 

This was… nothing new to him. These questions should’ve been buried with his grandfather. 

“You're wrong..!”

A punch to Crow's own face snapped him out of these thoughts. Immediately afterward, a kick to his gut pushed him back and the only reason his head didn’t hit the ground was because Rean was gripping onto his collar with his non-broken hand, keeping him up. 

“I’m not looking to die…” 

It took seeing two streams of tears running down Rean’s scowling face to realize that his eyes had returned to a broken lilac shade while his hair was fading back to its natural black.  

“I really wasn’t…” His voice cracked. “I swear, I was only trying to stop myself… It was all going to be fine...”

He sounded like he was trying to convince himself. 

Maybe it wasn’t the best thing to do at the moment, but Crow was never one to do the right thing, snapping, “Last time I checked, slitting your throat was an instant train ride to Gehenna. Stop fucking lying— You want to kill yourself!”

“I—” Rean let go of his collar and suddenly scooted back. His eyes flickered between the fragile lilacs and bloodthirsty reds, staring back in fear. “I don’t…”

“You do." Crow's anger was reluctantly flickering into exhaustion, feeling like he was arguing with a wall. "Everyone has seen that you do. You don’t have to bottle the feeling up anymore because everyone knows!” 

Unlike himself. 

He hissed. “I don’t know what the hell is going on with you, but at least take one step forward by admitting it. Or else you'll be stuck like this forever, Rean.”

Crow was no therapist. Really, he was the worst person suited for this task. He didn’t do emotions. He had to kill his own heart years ago to become an efficient terrorist leader, there was no way he would know how to calm someone so distressed. 

However, if Crow reached back to his memories and remembered the time where he may have felt somewhat as hopeless and frustrated as Rean was right now, then he would recall a certain wish of his. 

The wish had already died a long time ago, but he remembered what it was.

Maybe this… old wish… was what Rean needed right now. 

“I…” Rean cradled his broken sword-hand with his uninjured hand, staring down at it with disgust before squeezing his eyes closed, unaware of his approaching companion. "I—'

To be comforted. To be secured. To be safe.

To not be abandoned. To not be alone.

It was awkward as hell because Crow hadn’t done this properly in a long-ass time and the feeling felt extremely foreign to him, but he carefully wrapped his own arms around the other’s back.

An intense flinch riveted through the teen's body like an earthquake. And, just like magic, honest words finally spilled out of his mouth like a final cry to the heavens.

 

“I HATE MYSELF!”

 

His weight suddenly rested against Crow, hiding his face against the other's shoulder. His broken voice was now only a pained whisper.

“I don’t want to see a future… Where I become a monster and hurt everyone…”

His uninjured hand reached up to tightly grasp the green jacket. Five fingers pierced into Crow's back, like daggers.

“I’d rather die than let that happen..! I wish I could just…” 

Something between a sob and a pained chuckle tore out of his throat, muffled against fabric. Crow patiently listened, closing his eyes and hesitantly patting the other’s back. His own hands were trembling, some hidden piece inside of him resonating with some of the words he was listening to.

Was this the right thing to do?

Was Crow doing the right thing?

“...disappear..!”

More tears bled through his shirt as the body in his arms violently shook. 

“I just want to die, Crow…”

What were the right words to say?

"...I'm sorry—"

A strangled gasp abruptly choked out of Rean's lungs, Crow suddenly felt the teen's entire body pulse. He was pushed away, Rean scooting away from him with his uninjured hand clutching his chest too tightly, face contorted in so much pain, confusion and panic.

"Rean—?" Crow found his own heart beating rapidly as he helplessly watched the other suddenly fall backwards, upper body hitting the floor and not responding to any calls for his name. What the hell was going on now?

Rean could've just finally succumbed to exhaustion, especially after all the physical and emotional battles he'd been dealing with, but… the gasp… the hand clenching the chest…

Obviously something wasn't right—

Crow stilled, realizing that the other's chest wasn't rising and falling.

Rean had stopped breathing.

He wasn't thinking when he placed two fingers on the skin above the carotid artery.

 

No pulse.

 

What the hell— Was Rean's wish for death so powerful that it sent him into cardiac arrest— Aidios had to be fucking with him because no way— Seriously?

Was everything he did up until now a pointless effort?

Again?

Shit— Crow was panicking. He was actually panicking and he almost laughed at the realization because Crow Armbrust isn't the type to panic.

Especially not over something like this. He'd seen enough people die in front of him to no longer care. Rean himself had already shown how willing he was to die; no matter how many times he gets saved, he'll drag himself to death's door again and again one way or the other. Was there any point in saving him again right now, when Crow could easily see a future where Rean ended his life when no one was looking?

Honestly, Crow should just save everyone the trouble and just let Rean die right here and now. Not like he was even qualified to do any saving in the first place.

 

But his body was already moving.

 

(He was a godforsaken terrorist, dammit! He wasn't some Aidios-damned hero!)

 

“Rean?!?

“What happened?!”

“His heart stopped— He needs CPR. You guys, stop his bleeding!” 

“I don’t have any healing orb—”

“I don’t give a damn! Put pressure with your hands or clothes— Grab whatever healing items are on me— I don’t care!”

“I—”

Sounds of tearing fabric ripped through the air from their side.

“On it!”

“Patrick, if you can’t get your hands dirty, then grab my ARCUS and call Sara!”

 

(He was not the type of person to save lives; he was the type to end them.)

 

One, two, three— 

Ignore the sounds of bones cracking and keep 

pushing down, pushing, and 

pushing— 

 

(So, where did this sense of urgency come from? When did things start to feel real when he was only living a fake life here?)

 

—and pushing until the count of thirty.

 

(Why did his heart thud so furiously? Why did his muscles desperately follow the memory of a life-saving skill and perform it on someone who didn’t even want to be saved?)

 

Tilt the head back and lift the chin. 

Pinch the nose and open the mouth.  

Take a deep breath. 

Seal the mouth and—

 

(How could he desire to save the life of someone who wanted to die, when his first attempt had futilely ended in selfish betrayal?)

 

Blow air out. 

Give air to the frozen lungs. 

Retreat. 

Breathe deeply again. 

 

(If he couldn’t save his grandfather from some dumb heartache, he sure as hell couldn’t save this guy stuck in some overwhelming vortex of self-hatred and insanity. Why was he trying so hard to do something that would mean nothing?)

 

Return. 

Seal his mouth. 

Share oxygen again.

 

(Why..?)

 

Move back. 

Continue the chest compressions.

Thirty times again. 

 

(This was futile.)

 

Keep pushing.

Keep him alive until someone arrives with a fucking AED.

 

(Crow just wasn’t capable of saving anyone.)

 

Thirty. 

Breathe in. 

Lean in. 

Sobs are heard from across, “Rean, please don’t leave me..!”

 ̷͊͜    ̵̯̾     ̴̢̛͈̂̀̑    ̶̧̨̝̀̎͛̇̚͜    ̴͕̩̏̒͠

“...don’t leave me…”

 ̷͊͜    ̵̯̾     ̴̢̛͈̂̀̑    ̶̧̨̝̀̎͛̇̚͜    ̴͕̩̏̒͠

Breathe out.

 

(His hands just weren’t made to save people..!)

 

Push down—

“Instructor Sara—”

“Move!”

“I hope you fucking live up to your nickname because Rean needs something to restart his heart!”

Push down.

Push down.

Push down—

 

(They were too late.)

 

Move away.

“All clear!”

Watch.

Wait.

Watch.

Wait. 

Watch.

Wait. 

 

(Nothing.)

 

Watch.

Wait. 

 

Wait—

 

(He wasn’t enough.)

 

“Rean..!”

Look away.

Give up—

“Rean!”

Gasps. 

He could hear… gasps?

Crimson eyes turned back to what should’ve been a corpse.

Rean was gasping. He was… alive.

No way…

But his eyes and ears could not lie to him. The guy was coughing and sputtering out droplets of blood, but that meant he was breathing. Alive. Sure, he was extremely pale and unresponsive to the fact that his sister was now tightly hugging him, but he was actually alive.

Crow stared at his own two hands in shock, deaf to the noise around him. He… didn’t actually believe that would work. 

But it did. He had no idea what to think.

He was only brought out by his static thoughts by the sudden pressure wrapping around his chest.

“Thank you!” He looked down to see Elise hugging him, tears full of relief streaming down his cheeks. “Thank you for saving him…”

His usual response would be to let that boost his false ego, but he still couldn’t process this outcome. For once, he was humble, only because he couldn’t believe his efforts actually meant something.

He'd just done something meaningful in this fake life of his.

Fuck.

“Save your thanks for when we know he’s stable in a hospital, and save it for the right people.. This wouldn’t have happened without Class VII. Speaking of which, are they still back in that boss room?”

“Awww, when did Crow grow up and become humble and worry about others?,” Sara’s voice stole his attention, seeing her send him a sly grin. “They grow up so fast. It brings a tear to my eye..!”

“You’re ruining the mood, you know.”

“I will thank everyone. They all managed to recover enough to let Patrick and I through, though I don't doubt they'll finish soon,” Elise leaned back, showing him the softest smile he had ever seen on her face before she turned to hug Sara. “But that doesn’t mean you don’t deserve your own share of gratitude.”

Crow didn’t—couldn’t respond. Instead, he numbly watched Elise and Patrick make sure that Rean’s condition was stable. It wasn’t long before a stampede of footsteps could be heard from behind them, signaling that Class VII must’ve successfully defeated the headless knight.

One glance at their fearful—but not sorrowful—faces was enough to know that no one died on their side. Within a blink of an eye, they were crowded by all the students, questions of is he alright and are you okay passing back and forth. It was clear that some were getting concerned by Crow’s lack of response, but even he couldn’t muster up the energy to bear his easy-going mask.

This was a lot to take in. It was like time had stopped when Rean stopped breathing and then restarted at twice its normal speed once Rean was able to breathe again. It was too much.

Thankfully, all the voices were silenced when a groan arose from Millium, who suddenly sat up and stretched like she had no care in the world. Once she regained her bearings, her eyes turned into the size of dinner plates as she screeched.

“Hold on, is everyone alive?!”

Everyone’s eyes looked around, finally taking a pause to gauge everyone’s well-being, especially Rean’s. Bruised, burnt, and bloody of varying degrees of severity, but yes. Everyone was alive. He was alive. 

It wasn’t like this day would change anything. It wasn’t like Rean would stop hating himself and stop wanting to kill himself. It also wasn’t like there wouldn’t be a Civil War to take this country by a storm later, not promising a deathless journey and rendering many moments here meaningless.

This was only temporary.

But grins and smiles blossomed on everyone’s faces as Crow felt himself be pulled into a group hug, feeling warmer than he could ever imagine. 

---

---

Gleaming golden eyes narrowed at the relieved group, watching them leave when backup arrived and carefully placed Rean on a gurney.

Since the whole mess with Rean seemed to be dealt with for now until he woke up, Celine focused her attention on the unexpected information she had gained from watching this fight.

Catching one last glance at the bandana-guy, she picked up a small piece of paper with her mouth. She looked at the inscription written on the paper and noted that it was indeed imbued with magic that could summon objects from a pocket space. That was how the guy was able to summon that double saber out of nowhere.

Obviously, these types of items were made by witches and they usually had some sort of signature and… yep, there was Vita’s. Celine would recognize the flashy blue light that signaled the start of the spell from anywhere, so she just checked the paper to make sure.

How suspicious.

This bandana guy apparently had some kind of connection with Vita. To what extent, she didn’t know. All she knew was that this would have to be investigated later.

Next, she carefully padded over back to the room where the entire class had fought Rean. No scratches, nor burn marks from the flames remained in the room. The only sign that a battle had taken place was the splatters of blood and sepith scattered around everywhere.

She approached a particular puddle of blood, eyeing the shine of an object that was sitting in it.

When half of the class had managed to land weak arts on the Rean and Fie had gotten close enough to nick his chest before black flames had engulfed the whole area, Celine could feel a shift in magic in the area. That was the moment she could sense a certain magical power emanating from behind his shirt, which had then fallen to the floor.

Raising her head, she clenched her teeth around the silver locket. Ugh, this was so unsanitary. Good thing she was a familiar and blood pacts weren't unfamiliar to her, despite her utter disgust toward the topic. Carefully, she dragged the string and the item away from the blood so she could inspect it without feeling nauseous.

With a little fiddling, she finally managed to locket open, revealing a peculiar piece of black paper. It was definitely made by a witch. Unfortunately, she couldn't tell what magic was imbued in it since it was now fading. 

As for this object’s signature… She couldn’t recognize it.

Yet, somehow, it was familiar. Reminiscent of Emma's, but not the same. 

Ugh, it seemed like things were just getting more complicated around here. Celine had her work cut out for herself.

Silently, she moved the paper and the pendant over to a corner and hid it in a crack in the wall. She would retrieve these later to show to Emma.

For now, however…

She burst into a run. Ran as fast as she could, catching up with the group of students and teachers when they arrived at the elevator. Softly, she padded over to Rean's side and curled into herself, ignoring the knowing stares of Emma and Gaius.

Oh whatever! She'd scratch them later if she felt like it.

But geez! This potential Awakener worried her so much. For giving her so much trouble, she was going to use him as a pillow for the next following weeks as punishment—totally not to make sure he wasn’t going to do something stupid or whatever!

Notes:

So I may have been a little recklessly overindulgent. And I would say sorry for not updating or interacting in a long ass time, but I have worse news for you guys. Despite how I tried my best at writing this chapter, I plan on abandoning this story.

It’s not a decision taken lightly, I’ve been thinking about it since January 2022 and so I'm firm in my decision now. I didn’t give up back then because I really wanted to see this through and I really love getting sucked into my own writing. And it’s strange, considering how I still get so much joy from writing this, so you might be wondering why I would give up something I like doing. It might be a lame excuse, but I just have other things I like to do more, and this fic… is hella high maintenance, and I want to use that energy for other things. It’s always been my dream to write my own characters and worlds as books or comics, and I’m slowly and painfully ready to start that process. This fic has always been for practice and I am forever thankful for how it helped me improve as a writer and storyteller.

Now, you may be feeling angry, sad, or resigned because you thought this would never update again anyway, and I know some are willing to wait forever again for this fic to update. I also know well the pain of reading a fic with some potential being abandoned, so I’ll give you guys the only options I could think of. If you guys are still interested after a hella long hiatus, I can drop the whole outline (50,000+ words long) and maybe also properly write the next chapter since it would wrap up the current arc quite nicely. If you all don’t want to see a monstrous outline, then good, you're honestly sparing yourselves in a way lol.

Regardless, thank you to everyone who has supported me thus far! I literally would have never gotten this far without you guys. That being said, anticipate me disappearing again for a while because I'm currently undergoing a lot of stress and I want to get my shit back together before touching this fic again if anyone wants me to wrap it up.

As for my thoughts on this chapter:

It’s hella hard to write this because of the balance—or imbalance of emotions—going on. The Elise and Rean chapters previously were easier because they were supercharged with emotions. This one, however, has Crow, who is usually is so in denial that it was kinda comical. His aloof nature and his teasing facade can take away the serious tone that Rean had built up in the past however many chapters and so I was trying to make that not as disorienting for you readers. Also note that at this point of the story, none of them have actual feelings for each other yet. Interest, maybe, but not romantically. Here’s hoping scenes and actions didn’t feel too forced in this chapter. Aw man tho, kinda sucks how I was never able to properly write the romance tho…

Anyway, the CPR scene. I was super on the fence about adding it because “dumb trope lol” but this is potentially the last proper chapter I ever write so I might as well throw you a bone. It worked anyway lol. Like awww, they punched each other and Crow broke Rean’s hand and ribs! Isn’t that so romantic? Lmao, why am I shipping them?

Also, fight scenes? Fight scenes. So many ugh. I hope the action made sense despite how I rushed some of them after staring at a blank screen for almost a year. Also, angst? Angst. Do you ever get the feeling that you try too hard but kinda miss the target? Dear lord I hope I didn't overdo it but at the same time I'll just be proud that it was done XD

Again, I’m really sorry. This chapter had been planned to be the massive turning point of the story since I wrote the second chapter and was actually serious about writing this story, meaning that a lot of divergences would be happening now, but I’m just not going to write it properly anymore. I do hope you don’t let this news bog you down too much. And, as always, take care!

Chapter 26: Dreaming of Dawn

Notes:

I don't know how younger me used to pump out these chapters every month or less because it took me MONTHS to finish this. I know last chapter took a long time, but that was because business and that *one* scene being a pain in the ass to write. This one… IDK, maybe I suck at writing the comfort part of hurt/comfort or something, cuz I can't think of any alternate reality that would have me release this earlier lol.

Warning: Self harm and suicidal ideation. It's very tame compared to previous chapters though. Also beware, I wrote a bunch of this on my phone and there's probably some weird autocorrects that I couldn't catch on my revisions.

There is a flood of despair. It drags Rean down, pumps static into his lungs, and pins his chest to the depths of an abyss. All that remains here is paralysis. Numbness.

Emptiness.

“I’m scared..!”

In the pool of darkness, there’s a human child with raven hair. It would look like him if he was a child, if not for the gaping hole in the middle of its chest. Still, it seems alive since it sobs, collapsing to its knees as hands rise to hide its face.

“Mom… Dad… Where are you?”

Instinctively, Rean’s hand reaches out to the boy. But… this is him, technically. For all he knows, this could just be a nightmare. Or maybe this is just his personal hell. 

Is he dead? What… happened?

“Oh. I remember now.” The sobs turn into soft sniffles. The boy’s voice rings out hollow. “Mom is dead. And Dad made a deal with a monster.”

Rean tries to ignore the words, racking his mind for any memory that would answer what brought him here. The last thing he remembers…

“It's all your fault. This is what you deserve.”

A knife manifests in the void. Fierce lilac eyes peek from beneath the boy’s bangs, holding so much trembling range. The boy reaches out to the knife, squeezes the handle with both hands, and plunges it—

“Die!”

Rean hisses as beads of blood surface from his skin. The blade is caught between his hands, stopping it before it could touch his chest.

“Die!” The boy screams, using every bit of strength he has to push the knife deeper. Tears stream down his face when seconds pass, and all his efforts are futile.   “I can't do this anymore! I don't want to live like this anymore! Please! Just die!”

The knife digs into his chest. It unearths an overwhelming urge to just give up, a powerful call that demands for his self destruction. It leaves his eyes burning, his muscles shaking.  It hurts— Yet… There’s an odd sense of… hope. Blooming in his chest.

Hope for what, he doesn’t know. It’s abnormal in general. It doesn’t belong here, with him. 

The boy grunts out in frustration as he pulls away. He flips the blade so that it points to his own neck. “If you won’t die, then I need to at least—” 

Reaan reaches out and grabs the knife’s blade again, distantly aware of the blood dripping from his fingers. The boy retches out a desperate cry when the knife can’t move any deeper again.. 

“Why?!”

Rean doesn’t know. He still doesn't remember why he's here or what he's been doing. Doesn’t know how it’s even possible to interact with a younger reflection of himself. The only thing he knows is his vague sense of self, and he—

“Why won't anyone let me die?

This boy… It looks like him, acts like him. He could let the boy die and it would be no different than killing himself. It's no big deal.

But… There is something different here. Watching this boy, no matter how identical it is to him, commit suicide just leaves a bad taste in his mouth. A faraway voice screams hypocrisy at him. He can't say he cares. He supposes that this is just who he is.

“Please… This is my last chance to take all the pain away…”

Rean scoffs, finally choosing to speak, “Are you a coward?” His voice, it sounds off. “You want to run away just because you’re in some pain?”

“You don’t understand!”

“Are we not the same?”

The blade cuts deeper into his skin. The boy screams. 

“I’D RATHER DIE THAN ACCEPT YOU!”

 

S H A T T E R

 

A crack ripples through the void. The static in his lungs fade away, paving space for air to flow in. He can feel himself breathing. He can feel—

Crushing guilt his chest.

Needles crawling in his head.

Burning, stabbing pain. Endless. All encompassing.

He's off his feet before he realizes it. There's a crack. There's a splash.

Instead of hitting ground, he feels himself sinking deeper into the void. He's helpless as he's assaulted by bursts of memories. By a flood of fire. It's overwhelming. The shattering. The cutting.

Everything.

.

It's too much.

.

I don't want to wake up anymore.

.

Please.

.

Don't wake me up.

.

Don't make me remember any more.

.

Don't let me feel any more.

 

.

 

THUMP

 

“...Rean?” A familiar voice drifts into the void. There are two of them. If he thinks hard enough, he'll recognize their voices, their names, but then he'll also remember the full extent of his worthlessness. “Are you awake?”

He dares not to speak, nor to move. The voice is light. And warm. He has no right. No right. To be touched by such kindness. It’s better to just stay here in the darkness. Where nothing matters. Where he won’t hurt anyone. 

“It’s okay, Rean. You’re alive. You’ll be okay.”

But why am I still alive?

The proof is everywhere. In the burning cuts strewn all across his body. In the sore hand that wielded a sword to hurt his friends. In the pounding aches in his chest. In the exhaustion weighing his muscles down. 

Despite all this, however, he is still… detached.

It’s the only way to keep him safe from the flashing memories. Of each drop of blood drawn by his blade seared into his mind.Of the crimson images… the harmful actions… the cruel words… It’s all so ugly. And it’s his. Everything terrible. It’s all him.

Damn it. Just. Damn it all.

What was the point in everything I worked for in my life if it led to this?

If it always leads to this?

Something warm gently swipes against his cheek. It brings to attention the wetness trailing down his face and the wet fabric against the side of his head. 

Numbness. Emptiness. A void is fighting to swallow up his entire soul but his eyes still manage to squeeze out more unfeeling tears.

“Open your eyes, Rean. Look at us. It’s okay.”

No. No. 

Don't look at me.

Don't look at how far I’ve fallen again.

Again.

A hand touches his shoulder. He can feel the warmth transfer over to his skin. It makes him realize how deathly cold he feels. It brings attention to the IV in his arm, infusing fluids and medicine. It brings to life the static beeps of the machines and the melodious chirps from the birds outside.

Please.

I'm so done with this.

“Do you remember your fifth birthday?”

Why would he, when he wishes he was never born?

“We spent it together on a fishing trip. Your parents always had a knack for finding the greatest of joys in even the simplest activities. I fondly remember watching you and Elise stare at the fish in awe as we competed for the best fisherman title. I won, of course.”

“I don’t mean to damage your ego, sweetie, but you lost. Both you and your brother suffered humiliating defeats to Kasia, if I remember correctly.”

“Ah- Ahem. Anyway, I still had the pleasure of teaching you, Rean, some of the basics of fishing. I actually helped you catch your first fish. My brother and Kasia were so jealous, but I couldn’t even think about teasing them when I saw the brilliant smile on your face. I was so proud of you. I was so happy I was your uncle.”

Proud?

Of me?

The bed dips. His back is suddenly on fire. Something is touching him from behind, covering his back and wrapping around his arms. It burns. It burns. The warmth of a motherly embrace. 

“Do you remember the day when we adopted you?”

He could never forget. That was back when he had run away from Lianne after… after…

 

“That's why you won't hurt me.”

 

And by sheer coincidence, he had bumped into his uncle, who had recognized him. Who had reached out to him and immediately asked to take him to their home.

“Ever since Kasia’s death, my brother was never the same. He refused to let us see you. By the time I finally dug up his new address, he said that you had disappeared. That you were dead to him.

“I didn't care that he was the so-called Blood and Iron Chancellor, I broke his nose when he said that,” The voice suddenly laughed, startling him. “I don't know what kind of deal you two have between you right now, but no parent would give up on their child like that, and that's when we knew we had to find you.”

Find me..?

The hug is tight. Suffocating. Squeezing out more hollow tears. “We're under no sense of obligation. We chose you to be our son the moment we realized you lost both your parents. Even after all this…” There’s a light brush against the bandages wrapped around his arms. “We still choose you.”

“So don't go thinking that we don't deserve you. Don't falsely believe that you're too much trouble for us, because we're willing to do anything and everything to see you smile again.”

Why? What’s the point? He’s been smiling for them every day for the past two years. At this point, it’s basically second nature for the muscles in his face to move and… 

…

He places his hand on his mouth, realizing his face isn’t moving to his command. Even after bearing his teeth, he can’t feel a smile. Is he not even capable of something as simple as that anymore?

Something is aching. His head? His chest? He doesn’t know. But, even when his voice is so hoarse and scratchy and ugly, the aches compel him to point out the things that have never made any sense. 

“You wanted a mistake that can’t be fixed by your love or kindness?”

I'm tired of everything

“You want to see a monster—who hurts everyone he gets close to—smile?”

I'm tired of being scared for them.

“How can you think you deserve that?”

I'm tired of being scared of myself.

“How can you think I deserve that?”

Without missing a beat, the bed dips with another weight added to it, and a burning hand glides through his hair. 

“We wanted the boy who was torn away from his family and home. We wanted to give that boy another chance to have a family and home, because that’s what he deserves.” 

“It does hurt, yes. We won’t deny that. But the pain of watching you struggle to find yourself is nothing compared to the joy we’ll feel when you’re finally happy with yourself.”

Happy?

With myself?

What a joke.

“That may be impossible for you to believe in right now, so let’s focus on the simple things. Whether you do something as familiar as catching a fish or making a small step to becoming who you want to be, we’ll always be proud of you as long as you live. If you feel like you’re straying from your path, you can always come to us for help or guidance. We won’t give up on you. So please, don’t… give up on yourself.”

He doesn’t respond. Doesn’t think any muscle in his body has the same desire as his adoptive parents. Doesn’t want to waste his breath and disappoint them any further.

They don’t speak anymore either, allowing him to stew in their words. Still, there’s hope in the way their presences never falter. They must truly believe in a brighter future for him. Their hope pulls on his fingers, guiding him up. Forward.

But, he still can’t believe. He still can’t leave the emptiness consuming him. He can’t…

A wave of exhaustion washes over him. As his consciousness leaves him, he hears: 

“We love you, Rean.”

.

 

.

 

.

There is a sudden warmth flowing through him. The pain is a little less, but it's not enough to stop his body from locking in on itself. He can only manage to crack open his eyes for a short moment, catching a glimpse of the boy.

The boy looks slightly older. Still a child with chubby cheeks, but he seems to be somewhat taller. And the hole in his chest is smaller, in the sense that there’s a fragment of some kind of stone that’s filling in some of the space. Wracked with sobs, the boy’s sinking with him, further into the abyss. The knife floats between them, in arm’s reach.

“I don’t want to hear this! Why am I still here?”

With the memories and the pain, Rean feels… even more detached. Like he owns none of these thoughts or feelings. Like the past doesn't matter. There is no sense of urgency to kill himself or this boy.

Plus, this isn't a dream. He doesn't know exactly what this is, but his gut tells him that his actions here have consequences. The boy isn't just some simple apparition; if he dies…

“They love you. Do you really want to die after hearing them say all that?”

“Yes!” The boy growls. In one moment, he picks up the knife and throws it. The knife digs into Rean’s shoulder. “If only to protect them from you!”

Again with this “you” and “me” business. They’re the same, so the boy is making no sense. Even if they were different, Rean has no desire to harm the Schwarzers. There’s no reason to be this protective. 

Unfazed by his new injury, Rean sighs, “You’re hopeless.”

The boy makes fists, but doesn’t respond. Instead, he turns away and reflects on the vast sea of emptiness.

…Hopeless. This boy is hopeless, while Rean can feel a spark of hope. He doesn’t fear death, but he doesn’t want to die either. If the boy wasn’t such a fool, they could both easily grasp the life that they want.

Hm. Why are they so different?

Rean takes into stock their differences. Aside from the obvious difference in their ages, the boy is much more emotional and obsessed with death. He cares far more about doing what's best for everyone, even if it makes no sense. 

Meanwhile, Rean… doesn't even feel like himself. His thoughts and feelings don't match his earlier desperation to attempt suicide. He can't even say he cares much for Teo and Lucia Schwarzer’s words in the real world because he already knows they love him. It's obvious in the way they’ve nurtured him. He can't say he loves them back, but he's grateful for their ability to make the emptiness easier to bear.

Hm. This is not like him. Not like Rean.

…

…Who is he?

What is he?

He cracks his eyes open for a fraction of a second, and he sees a streak of silver. He reaches out and grabs it. With a careless tug, he can feel his scalp being pulled at.

It's his hair.

Ashen.

…Oh.

.

 

.

 

.

There's a weight on his legs. It breathes. It whistles.

“Fie, stop that, you're going to cut off the circulation to his legs. Do you really have to take a nap on someone who literally almost just died?”

“It's his fault for depriving me of one of my most favorite napping spots for the past few weeks.”

“There's a time and place for everything!”

“Shh, you’re waking him up. Between cutting off his blood circulation or depriving him of much-needed rest, who do you think is the true evil here?”

“Oh my Aidios, I’m going to get kicked out of the hospital again at this rate.”

“Oh, pish posh.”

“Can you stop with that!”

“It’s too late anyway. He’s already awake. Right, Rean?”

He lays still in his bed, paralyzed. He doesn’t need this. He doesn’t need to hear what they have to say after what he did to them. The only comfort he needs is in the stillness. The lack of change.

“Fie?! What the hell are you doing?!”

His nose twitches. The stench of fresh blood is near.

“I’m just trying to understand how he felt when he did what he did.”

Instinct pulls at him. Grabs him by the heart and squeezes. Until he can’t breathe.

“You didn’t have to— Stay still, let me cast teara on you before the nurse comes back.”

It’s like he’s sinking in concrete. It’s crushing him.

Urges him to—

“It hurts.”

“No shit! That’s what happens when you carve your arm open with a— Don’t do it again!”

—Reach out.

“So, you are awake.”

In one instance, he sees everything. First, to the rays of light shining down through the window, adding warm glows  to the one sitting on his legs and the one standing by his bed. To the white bandages covering recent wounds and burns on their bodies. To the fresh blood trailing down her arm. Then, to his bandaged fist which has caught her bandaged hand, a simple knife trapped in between. And finally, to the viridian eyes that can see through him.

He squeezes his eyes shut.

Too much. Too much.

He lets go of her hand— or, attempts to, because Fie chases after him and entwines their fingers together in a steel grip. The hilt of the knife is still stuck in between. It’s nauseating. Sickening. 

His head is now pounding, splitting. A curtain of red infects his mind’s eye. The feeling of the knife becomes the only thing he can feel. The path of the blade is the only thing he can see. He— 

“Sorry, this is triggering you again like when I set off that bomb in Bareahard, isn’t it?” The hand and the knife disappear from his grasp. “I’m really bad at this emotional intelligence kind of thing, huh.”

His lungs are quivering. Dozens of dialogue options flitter through his trembling mind, most consistent to how he’s been coldly treating them recently. The only response that breaks out, however, is:

“It’s okay.” 

Like a broken record. 

“It’s not okay,” Machias hisses without a beat of silence. “You almost killed yourself.”

Yeah. He did. Yet he’s still here. 

When he doesn’t respond, he can hear forced deep breaths from his side. He counts them. One. Two. Three.

Eventually, Machias responds with a slightly calmer voice. “Do you not understand why what you did is wrong?” 

He understands. It’s the wrong way to show gratitude to the one who sacrificed his own heart and future to save his. He’s the worst kind of son. The only reason he’s alive is because…

“The only thing I don’t understand is why you guys tried to save me.” 

“You—!”

“Calm down, Machias,” Fie cuts in. “Since you know killing yourself can be a bad idea, why try to do it anyway?”

There are many reasons. And he’s already shown them many of those reasons. Is there any point in explaining himself?

With a sigh, he mutters. “Would you honestly want to live like this?”

Like every breath he takes promises another scar on people he cares about?

“I don't know,” Fie says without any shame in her lack of understanding. “But, would you do nothing but watch your friend kill themselves?”

Her hand catches his wrist. Through the bandages, she lightly traces one of the deeper scars with her thumb. It doesn’t hurt. As if his skin is worth being treated with such gentleness. 

“No, but—”

“No buts. I know I’m nowhere close to understanding how you think or how you feel, but I do understand what it means to be a friend.” She pauses for a moment. “Because you taught me how.”

If that's the case, Rean feels like he's forgotten how to even be a friend.

“After pushing you all away and hurting you…” He opens his eyes again to see the bandages covering her and Machias’ skin, while deftly avoiding their burning stares. “How can you still call me your friend?”

“What, this?” Fie chuckles as she stretches her arms, like it doesn’t hurt to move with such injuries. “Psh, it’s just a scratch. You wouldn’t abandon a cat for a little scratch, right? Not to mention, I'm the one responsible for that nick on your shoulder.”

“That wasn't just a scratch. I could've killed you.”

“That was then, look at yourself right now! Does it look like you’re about to kill us?” Machias speaks up again with restrained frustration. “And even if you go crazy again in the future and successfully get yourself killed, how do you think we’d feel?!”

That gets a tired chuckle out of him.

“At least you wouldn’t have to worry about me.”

The collar of his shirt is suddenly yanked forward. He finds himself pulled up from the bed, forced to look up. There are flames in Machias’ eyes. 

There are budding tears.

“We'd be devastated, Rean! There are ten seats in our classroom! Do you know what we would think everytime we see your empty seat? We'd think we were helpless to save our friend!”

“You don't know—”

“I do!” Machias shouts, and tears make twin journeys down his cheeks. Weaker, he grits out, “I've failed someone once before and it made me feel like crap! If I failed you too, I'd— I don't know what I'd do…”

“I… I’m sorry.” The words tumble out of his mouth automatically. 

“Sorry for what? That we care about you? No,” Machias lets go of his collar, letting him fall back into bed. “The only thing you should be sorry for is denying yourself our help.”

There's a bitter taste in his mouth. Frustration is building up in the back of his throat.

“What's the point? I’m going to disappear from your lives one way or the other in the future. I was just trying to make things easier for all of you.” 

For a moment, they stare. There’s a beat of silence. It takes him a moment to realize what he's just confessed. Maybe it's better this way, so they can understand yet another reason they should just leave him alone.

A weight suddenly falls against his back. The tickle of hair against his neck tells him that Fie’s leaning against him.

“Is this…” she starts, albeit hesitantly. “Are you talking about whatever secret organization you’re part of? You're saying you'll have to leave us to go back to them?” 

He simply nods, not having the energy to be surprised that they know. Sara has probably told them of her suspicions, even if she's off the mark. 

With a long sigh, Fie says, “I won't say anything about who you should align yourself with, especially since I would probably still choose Zephyr if given the choice. You don't owe us— or anyone your loyalty. But, you do owe yourself to make choices you actually believe in.”

“It's not that easy—”

“She didn't say it's easy,” Machias cuts in with a huff. “But Rean, you don't live because it's easy. From the moment we met, I've never seen you do anything easy. From your complicated sword style, to uniting this crazy class, to dealing with your trauma… You're not one to give up because it's not easy!”

A chill crawls up his spine. His eyes shake and blink away the rising flood of tears.

“I’m tired… of life never getting easier..!”

“Then lean on us! Life will never get easier, but being alone will make it infinitely harder! You taught me that!”

“But I'm…”

Machias pokes at his chest with his index finger. “I’ll make life so cushy for you that even all the nobles will be jealous! I'll chase all those damned bullies away, I'll shoot your sword away when you're having those thoughts, and I'll even get on my knees and beg Sharon to install some hot springs in the dorm because I know you like hot springs and I know she'll somehow find a way!”

“Slow down, Macchiato,” Fie chuckles. “Say any more, and it's like you're proposing to him.”

“Will you take this seriously?!”

“I am,” she says as she moves to lie beside him and curls up against his side. “I'll take your notes for you if you're not feeling well and I'll sleep around you to force you to finally get some good sleep. Life is going to be so easy that you're not gonna want to leave.”

Rean doesn’t respond, too overwhelmed from what they’re asking of him. 

He doesn’t even deserve to be helped.

He doesn’t deserve friends like them.

Even if he could ask for help, he doesn’t know what they could even do for him. 

The casual atmosphere that Machias and Fie had tried so hard to create slowly becomes an awkward silence. It’s easy to tell from how they hold their breaths that they’re worried that they’ve said something wrong.

It’s unbearable.

 ̷͊͜    ̵̯̾     ̴̢̛͈̂̀̑    ̶̧̨̝̀̎͛̇̚͜    ̴͕̩̏̒͠

“You’re hopeless.”

 ̸̡̛ ̷̘͗    ̴̢̘̰̦̔̌̓ ̷̛̓̍͂̐̍͑̓̈̀͂̓ͅ    ̷̡̢̡̧͉̗͎͍̜͓̤͚̮̻̘͒̂̏̅͑͂̈́̇̋̔̽͋́͗͐̊̿̒̚̚͜͝ ̵̡̫̳̳̞̟̩͎̲͚͎̃͝͝ͅ   .̶͎͌̀̄͆   .̵̢̰͈̱̩͓͑ ̴̜͚̜̈́͗̍̈́̈̃͜͝   .̸͙̉ ̶̢̎   .̷̮̕ ̷͇͔͈̫̣̂̍͗̎     ̷̧̛̠̖͚̣̱͖͖̲̰̲̤̏̈́̎̃̈́̓͊    ̸̨͔̞̣̟͑̄͗̀͝͠ ̵̢̭̥̘͍̱̗̯͎̠͓͉͇͓̪́̈́̾̑͂͋̎̅̓̈́̔͆̽͌́̏͋̇̄ ̴̨̛̛̗̪̪̯̠̩̣͇͈̗̦̩͓͛͂̍͋͌́̏̇̀̃̿̀̓͌̕͝ ̴̠͕̟̯͚͇̍ ̶̧̞̥̬̍̊͑̾͛̈́͗̏̀  ̷̺͍̤̰̍ ̵͍̳͔̗̠̥͎̬̹̥̩̱͌̃̅ ̵̛̥͙̹̫̼̠̝͎͊    ̸̧̦̀̋ 

He really is.

But… For all their efforts in fighting him and trying to find the right words for him, can he really leave them with the same hopelessness strangling him?

Rean takes in a shuddering breath. He can’t hide from them, considering how Fie’s sitting on his left and Machias is standing on his right, so he just closes his eyes and grits his teeth. 

“Despite everything you know and don’t know about me, is it okay…” 

  “Only thing you’re good at is tanking your family’s reputation and stressing them out.”

“YOU’RE THE WORST!”

"You’re a monster!” 

     “You hurt everyone around you!”

“You’re a vessel for an entity created from human malice.”     

“We were practically made to ruin others.”

Sheer willpower can hold the tears back, but he’s already lost all his. They just flow. And flow. With how vulnerable he feels, it’s like his skin is shedding for his friends to look into his heart.

“...Is it really okay for me to ask you for help?”

A beat isn’t wasted. Pressure surrounds him. Warmth floods everywhere around him. They’re hugging him from both his sides, and he feels trapped. 

He also feels… light.

“Of course, you idiot!” Machias declares. Something wet bleeds into his shoulder. “You can ask for help! Ask for help every day if you need to! It’ll be okay, you hear me?!”

“Aye,” Fie chimes in. “No matter what side you’re on in the future, we won’t abandon a friend in need.”

There are tears and snot everywhere. It’s too much and he can’t catch his breath. He regrets asking the question and he feels the need to just shut down again, but—

“You hear us?!”

His friends are relentless.

“I…” He hiccups. “I heard you…”

.

 

.

 

.

The pain is much less. It's bearable enough for his body to relax, letting him drift peacefully in the endless darkness. Though, even if it becomes too much again, he wouldn't mind. He would rather feel pain than emptiness. Unfortunately, the boy would beg to differ.

Speaking of which…

“Hey,” he calls out to the still inconsolable boy in the distance. Again, he’s grown. He’s about as tall as when he finished training with the hermit swordsman, his body now packing some light muscles. Also, another fragment of a stone fits snugly next to the other fragment, slightly filling the hole in his chest a bit more. “Are you feeling better yet?”

No response. 

“How cold. It's like that whole conversation with your friends was meaningless.”

The boy wipes away at his face. “It wasn't meaningless. It just… doesn't change anything. I'm scared of paying back their kindness with pain.”

This guy really is hopeless when he’s all by himself. 

“I get that you’re looking for any and every excuse to die, but I think you've gotten yourself confused. Did you forget why you wanted to kill me?”

He digs into his sleeves and rips through a couple of bandages until he can finally see his skin, with glowing red lines dancing beneath. There it is. Now he's certain about what he is, even if it shouldn’t be possible.

They are supposed to be one. They should’ve been the same. Ishmelga made sure of it.

It makes sense now why the boy treats him as someone different, and he will take advantage of it while he’s currently free of any other influence. There’s a reason why he’s the one with scars littered throughout his whole body. There’s a reason why he’s the one whose appearance is most altered by Ishmelga’s influence. 

There’s a reason why he’s the one who bears all the hope between them.

For both their sakes, Rean needs to learn that they are the same. 

Pulling out the knife from his shoulder, he cocks his head at the boy and lets free a crooked smile. “Hurting people is what I do, remember?” 

He lunges toward the defenseless boy.

He slashes.

But, the boy has already disappeared.

.

 

.

 

.

His whole body jerks awake.

“Laura, I'd advise you to stay away from the vitals machine.”

“I just want to see—” The monotonous, slow beeps suddenly sound like endless screeching. His ears ring as the aching in his head steadily becomes more apparent. “Oh.”

“Aidios, I'm going to get kicked out of the hospital again and Regnitz isn’t even here to take the blame.”

The door opens and someone steps in. The beeping returns to normal and the two nobles are subjected to a brief scolding before the person leaves.

“I’m sorry, Rean. I accidentally woke you up, didn’t I?”

He stays silent, but his heart betrays him. His heart rate on the monitor seems to pick up. He can hear Jusis sigh.

“If you let me know one thing, then I won’t bother you more than Regnitz did,” Jusis says, tone firm, unyielding. Straight to the point, as usual. “Why do you hate yourself?”

“Jusis,” Laura whispers in disagreement. “I may not be an expert in therapeutic communication, but shouldn’t you give him a moment to ease into the topic?”

“It’s fine,” he finally speaks up, even if it’s in a low mutter. His mind is still racing through the contents of his dreams. It’s a blur, but it feels like he’s been fighting something while he sleeps. “It’s not like you guys haven’t figured it out already. You’ve seen me. The real me.”

“The real you? Do you mean the one crippled in bed, wallowing in misery?”

Rean sighs, knowing Jusis’ choice in language is intentionally supposed to rile him up. But, it doesn’t matter. A bloodthirsty monster or a pathetic, crippled boy. Just like the ones in his dream. They’re both him. They’re both nothing to be proud of.

He opens his eyes, staring back into the window beside his bed. In its reflection, Jusis stands with his arms crossed against his chest while Laura sits on a chair, folding an origami crane. Beneath their uniforms, he can see white bandages covering their arms.

He remembers brandishing his sword against them. He remembers conjuring dark flames to incinerate them. 

“Do you regret hurting us?”

He nods. Of course he does. Guilt and regret. They’re almost the only emotions he can pull out of the void in his chest. However, with all these talks with his family and friends, he can also feel rising frustration. 

He tried to die. He wanted to die. He still wants to die. They can try to lift him up all they want, but he will always sink back down. He will always disappoint them. 

Jusis huffs, his voice taking a confused and irritated tone. “So, if you regret it so much, then just don’t do it again.”

His fist hits the mattress and he shouts. “If it was that easy, I would! But the power I have, it’s in its nature to be violent, so the only way to keep anyone safe is to stay away!”

He doesn’t get a chance to regret his outburst of anger when Jusis retaliates in the same way.

“Stay away? Why stay away when the better option is to get help and learn how to control that power so you don’t end up fighting the people by your side?”

Because I’m not good enough! I’m not strong enough! After everything I’ve done, I don’t deserve—

“Spare the lousy bullshit and look at me, Rean!”

A violent flinch overtakes him. Shaken and wide-eyed, he slowly turns, lifting his gaze up to stare into the space beside the breathless noble. Still, he can see Jusis red in the face, teeth grinding together, and small droplets of sweat at the side of his face…  He’s never heard Jusis snap and shout before, not to this extent even when he used to bicker with Machias all the time. 

“Not good enough? Not strong enough? Not worthy? Because you’ve done something bad that you can’t control? That’s why you avoid the people who care about you? That’s why you choose to destroy yourself? Oh please.”

“Jusis—” Laura tries to interrupt him, but Jusis pulls on the collar of Rean’s shirt, dragging him up so that they’re eye level. It’s a tactic Machais has already pulled, so he’s prepared to point his eyes down to the floor. 

“This is what I don’t understand about the way you think. You don’t need to torture yourself to qualify as a decent human being!”  

Torture himself? This is nothing—

The endless crosshatches of cuts on his arms sting.

“If you want to be worthy of accepting people’s goodwill, I can think of plenty of better options. Like donating to charities, lightening the load of the overworked student council, helping people with their individual struggles and— Oh wait. You’ve been doing that.”

But it’s not enough. It’s never—

“If anything, you should be proud of yourself, Rean. Unlike most of those purebred snobs, you’re one of the few who maintain the true meaning of noblesse oblige. You’re better than them; stop acting like you’re just gum under their shoes.”

“I—”

“Even more so, stop acting like you’re beneath us. You’re a noble. Look up. Look at us in the eyes. Get out of your delusional wonderland about what you do or don’t deserve and see what you’ve earned.”

His vision shakes, but slowly rises. From the floor, to Laura carefully watching them from the side, to the fist holding him up, and to… Their eyes lock. There is no escaping the quiet determination building in the noble’s icy blue eyes.

“Tell me what you see.”

“You.”

Angry. At me.

“Your equal. Your friend,” Jusis corrects him with a hiss. “So I don’t care if this power of yours is evil in nature, that doesn’t erase all the kindness you’ve shown us. That doesn’t mean you no longer deserve to hold your head high and stand with us.”

Jusis releases his shirt from his grip, causing Rean to fall back into bed. Despite everything Jusis has said, he can't bring himself to keep looking up. His small acts of kindness also don't erase the fact that he's still

Shameful.

Ungrateful.

Too weak—

“You're strong, Rean.” His hand burns. A quick glance shows that Laura's bandaged hand is covering his. He still points his gaze downward as she speaks to him, trying not to pay attention to the bandages on her neck. On her face. “I can't imagine living with such a corrupted power for so long, always on the verge of losing myself. I can't imagine still fighting to protect others while being scared of myself. I think you've done a good job at protecting us.”

No. “Not good enough. In the end, I still couldn't—”

“Even steel has its limits.” She squeezes his hand. “But, even when it breaks, that doesn't mean it was ever weak. The same goes for people, for you.”

“Steel weapons are reliable.”

While I'm volatile. I'm weak. Always have been.

“Reliable, only when they’re properly taken care of. You broke because you can’t take care of yourself. If we're talking about strength, then I was the weak one.” Laura whispers, but it rings loud to him. “You trusted me, but I wasn't strong enough to stop you. Even with the whole class with me, we still failed you.”

“You didn't—”

“It's fine. Being weak is no crime, staying weak is. And I refuse to stay weak. I— No, we will get stronger for you. So you won’t have to fear hurting us. So you won't feel like you need to be alone.”

Her hand leaves his. When she takes a step back and only silence remains, he knows they're wordlessly communicating with their eyes.

“Let's make a vow,” she announces just as something wooden is pressed against his hand. He doesn't believe his eyes when he sees that Laura is handing him a practice sword.

“A vow between nobles. A vow between swordsmen,” Jusis explains. “For obvious reasons, we couldn’t bring you a real sword.”

“We don’t expect you to believe in yourself after this one conversation, or even after dozens. However, that spark of belief begins with a wish for something you want. A dream that seems unreachable. So, I vow…” Laura holds her own blunt, wooden sword up in the air. “To become strong enough to protect the ones we care about.”

Jusis crosses his fake weapon with hers. “To become proud enough of ourselves to hold our heads up high.”

The weight of the pure, wooden sword makes his hands tremble. It’s heavy, or he’s grown weak. Such bloodstained hands have no right making any hopeful promises. Yet, they stare at him. He can feel their iron wills trying to pierce through his broken soul.

Still…

“I don't want to break any more promises to you—”

“This isn’t a promise to us.” Laura's voice leaves no room for debate. “This is a promise to our individual selves. For me to be a better Laura. For him to be a better Jusis. And for you to be a better Rean, however you envision that person to be. Even if you have to fight against us for whatever reason in the future, I want you to fight as someone who's stronger, prouder than you are now. The only way you can break this promise is if you give up on yourself.”

“But I’ve already…” given up on myself.

Laura’s steel grip meets his again, steadying his hold on the sword. 

“Do you want to stay the same forever?”

The very thought is crippling. It keeps him chained to this bed.

He closes his eyes as he weakly raises his sword. He doesn't believe in the words, especially when he can no longer even make himself smile. He doesn't think there's much hope left for him. He falters, about to lower his sword.

But his friends push him again.

Their blades unite with his.

He trembles. He regrets. He doesn’t really believe. But, if he’s being forced to live, it is true that he doesn’t want to stay the same forever.

Even if it’s an impossible dream.

“To become… a better Rean.”

.

 

.

 

.

The boy returns to the void, except that the boy isn’t a boy anymore. He’s grown into the pathetic young man of the present, and yet another fragment fills the hole in his chest. How blessed he is to have friends and family to help mend his soul .

He scoffs at the other’s continued passiveness. “Do you still want to be a coward who kills himself?”

“I…” Rean faces the abyss below, lost, depressed. “I don’t know.”

Well, that’s an improvement. With a satisfied huff, he twirls the knife around a couple of revolutions before using it to harmlessly trace the bandages on his arms. This is the most peace he’s gotten since waking up, he’ll enjoy it while it lasts. 

Rean looks back at him in confusion. “Weren’t you trying to kill me?”

He has no obligation to explain himself. “Just because I can, doesn't mean I will. Unlike you, I would prefer it if you’re alive.”

“But you’re…”

A silence hangs between them. It’s awkward, annoying, and he’s suddenly getting the urge to stab something.

“Go on. Do tell me exactly what you think I am.”

“You’re… Ishmelga.”

He stares at Rean in ridicule. He’s getting tired of these games.

Standing up, he lets his black cloak unfurl around him, showing off all the bandages. He cuts them off, all the strips of white falling away and revealing more cuts than how many he can feel throbbing. Long and short, deep and shallow. Red.

If he takes his clothes off, he’s sure there would be more to count. 

“Now, I know you don’t believe that. Ishmelga would not look as pathetic as I do. You just don’t want to admit what I really am because it will make you sound more pitiful than you already are.”

Rean looks away from him. The audacity, when this is all his doing.

He rewraps the cloak around himself, displeased with all the warmth that has faded away. It’s cold when Rean wallows in his self-hatred. He can’t do anything about it.

It’s quiet for minutes. 

Hours. 

Until a soft melody reaches his ears.

“Now, that's enough of that. Your friends are calling for you again.”

There’s that look of confusion again, but before Rean can say anything, he’s gone. He would say good riddance, but it’s… lonely. Being left behind. Stuck in this void with nothing to talk to.

Yes, the worst thing about this whole situation is that he continues to exist while Rean is gone. It makes him hateful of the other. It makes him want to kill him when he comes back.

He sucks in a deep breath as he lies down on his back. He listens to the melody filling up the void and begins to hum along.

.

Rean may not want anything to do with him, but at least his friends are willing to reach all the way down here for him. 

.

 

.

 

.

There's a hum of a lonely melody. It's soothing. It gently lifts him from his slumber. For a moment, he forgets everything, all the pain, and opens his eyes in blissful ignorance.

“Ba-dum-pah-pow! Ba-dum-pah-pow! My name is Millium and I bake pancake. This my first time rapping and so I'll just keep adding….. Words. Elliooooot, am I doing it right?” 

There's a shy chuckle from the side, where Elliot lowers his violin. “I can't say the violin was ever meant to accompany beatboxing.”

It’s a whim. A silly whim. He’s been worn down by his adoptive parents, Fie, Machias, Jusis, and Laura. He doesn’t even feel the urge to die at this moment. The rest of Class VII are undoubtedly going to check on him at this rate, and he doesn’t think he has any more emotional strength to hear all of them try to convince him to live. 

If he fights less, then they won’t get the chance to find the right words to break him further. 

Thankfully, it’s just Elliot and Millium here. It’s easier to open his mouth and not be rebutted by unconditional love, understanding gazes, and indomitable wills. 

“I'm sure you guys can make it work.”

Millium enthusiastically nods along. “Yeah well if Rean thinks it's possible, then we gotta try it again!”

There's a beat of silence.

“What a minute.”

There's another beat of silence.

“Rean! You're awake!”

He's saved from being glomped by Millium when Elliot manages to hold her back. Depression weighs down on him when he can’t even smile at their antics. The one time he willingly reaches out to them, he still ends up not being enough.

“Are you okay— Actually, don’t answer that because you’re still stuck in a hospital bed after trying to kill yourself, so you’re probably not that okay—”

“Millium!” Elliot shushes her in exasperation just as they trip on each other and tumble to the floor.

“Ow.”

“Are…” Again, it’s instinct that drives him, making him move up from his bed. There’s hesitance in the stretch of his muscles. There’s doubt when he speaks. Is he even allowed to ask, “Are you okay?”

The room begins to spin. Darkness invades his vision. His legs feel very weak…

“Rean!”

He’s caught in the middle of his fall. The two support him until he’s sitting safely back in bed.

“Sorry, sorry!” Millium laughs with an odd grin on her face. “I’m kinda dumb on these things, so I don’t really know why you want to die. I don't really know the right thing to say.”

He studies her for a second, and he sees a slight tremor in the way she stands. It’s not the usual bounce she gets when she’s excited. It’s more of a… nervous shake. 

“But I do know what to do because you haven’t eaten, and everyone needs to eat!” She pulls up the bedside tray and swings it so that it’s directly in front of him. “Eat up!”

“I…” There’s a bowl of soup, crackers, jello, and water. “I don’t feel like eating.”

“Oh yeah, Lechter did tell me that depressed people don’t really have an appetite— but, uh, you gotta eat if you want that IV out of your arm!” Millium’s eyes dart left and right. “Uh… Unless you want to keep the IV in? But then, I don’t think the hospital will discharge you like that?”

He still doesn’t know what she and Lechter are talking about with each other, but… it’s so odd. Seeing Millium be so careful. So awkward.

She’s only going to keep squirming in place with that worried look on her face if he waits any longer, so he eventually decides to pick up the spoon. He takes a hesitant sip, and he can’t say he can complain about the taste when food has been the last thing on his mind this past month.

Still, that simple action gets Millium to bounce in glee. “Yay! You’re eating! High five!”

She lifts both her hands up high in the air. Rean stares at her, uncertain. His arms tremble, unable to lift higher than his heart level.

Her smile doesn’t fade. “Or not, but that’s okay! Just keep eating! I actually have something else for you, but I gotta leave for a minute because I accidentally left it behind, okay? I will—” She dashes out the door. “—Be back!”

“...She’s like a hurricane.” Elliot lets out a fond exhale before turning to face him. “Can you believe it? The class told me I was in charge of keeping her reined in. Me! Again!”

Rean takes another slow sip of the bland soup. There is a sense of relief in hearing Elliot talk to him like everything’s normal. There’s also the returning guilt.

He doesn't want to have the same conversation, but he can see a healing bruise on Elliot’s wrist. The one that he gave him at the beginning of this whole mess. Maybe all the others are fine with the pain he’s inflicted on them because they’re used to being in combat, but Elliot isn’t the same as them. He stays in the back. He focuses on healing. He doesn’t even want anything to do with the military, his heart lies with being a musician.

Of everyone in the class, Elliot should probably fear him the most.

“Doesn't it hurt?” He ignores the other’s earlier attempt at conversation. Pretending everything's normal is painful. 

“Oh, this? Um…” Elliot rolls his sleeve up to hide the bruise. He opens his mouth, looks like he's about to lie, then closes it. Then, opens it again. He mutters in resignation. “It does hurt.”

“Then why are you pretending it doesn't?”

“Because…” The bed creaks as Elliot takes a seat next to him, though he looks the other way. “Because you're hurt.”

“That's not an excuse.”

“Because…” There are many pauses and ums and shakes of his head. Eventually, Elliot takes a deep breath and slides closer to him, so that their shoulders are almost touching. “I won’t let something like pain get in the way of our friendship.”

Rean takes another sip of his soup, just to distract himself from the building determination in the other’s eyes. “You'll have more trouble protecting yourself from me than the others. Aren't you scared?”

To his surprise, he hears a light chuckle. “It's strange, but I'm not scared of you. Ever since our link shattered, you've never been scary to me.”

The soup is halfway finished.

“Instead, I thought you looked lonely. You looked like you needed help but believed no one could give you any, so you decided to do things your own way.”

Another sip, another spoonful. Rean mutters, “I don't mean to be rude, but I still don't think there's any way for you guys to help me in my situation.”

“Big or small, relevant or irrelevant to your situation, everyone will figure out their own way to help you out. Your job is only to accept their help.” Elliot takes in a long, deep breath. “For example… I can help you by being your confidant.”

Rean glances at him from the corner of his vision. Elliot is fidgeting with his fingers. “I’m sorry, but I can't just tell you my secrets.”

“No! I— Uh… I already know one of your secrets.” Elliot's voice becomes a haste whisper. It makes his skin rise and hair stand. “Iknowwhoyourbiologicaldadis.”

It takes a moment for him to process what was just said. He feels the spoon slip away from his fingers and hears it hit the tray. His heart rate on the monitor picks up quickly, in contrast to how he slowly turns to face the other.

“How—”

Elliot flails his arms in an attempt to calm him down. “You didn't do anything to leak your secret, so no one else in the class knows! I just— I met you and your dad back when we were kids, so it's all kind of a coincidence that I know!”

“When—”

“Remember almost getting kidnapped with another kid in Heimdallr? I was that kid. And you helped save me.” Elliot looks down at his fingers as his voice becomes quieter, calmer. “So, it's hard to be scared of you when you're my hero.”

His thoughts are a whirlwind. His thoughts are scattered all over as he tries to figure out what to say or how to respond to this revelation. Is this a bad thing or a good thing? 

Elliot continues. “That ‘shady group' you're in, it's with your dad, isn't it? Maybe I shouldn't say this because I only met him once over a decade ago, but your dad is as big a softie for his son as my dad is. In no way can I believe that either of you have evil intentions when I've seen you both be heroes... When I still see you trying to save everyone, even if it's from yourself. Maybe you have to get your hands dirty and that's why you feel guilty, but I believe in you. I'm on your side.”

Water is building up behind his eyes.

“You can confide in me.”

He's helpless when his vision gets blurry. There's a warmth from his side as Elliot speaks over his shoulder:

“You're not alone.”

It breaks the dam. Again.

He's such a mess.

“I’m baaack— Oh, group hug time? Group hug time!”

Air is punched out of their lungs as Millium pushes the tray aside and crashes into the bed with him. Something soft smacks Rean in the face, drying up the tears a bit, but what he sees makes him almost choke.

“It's a gramps ride-along-plushie! I heard from Elliot that you're like a super big fan of gramps, so I got you one! I also have one, so we can match!”

There's a soft ring of laughter from Elliot as Millium demonstrates the many ways to wear it.

This is so dumb. So silly.

Such a mess.

Tears are frustratingly still rolling down his face. He still can't smile.

Oh, but he feels so weightless. So light.

.

 

.

 

.

He doesn’t move when Rean returns. He’s content to keep lying on his back as he watches stars form in the space above them. It’s nice to finally have some light in here. It’s something to distract himself while the darkness licks at his back.

“You’re…” Rean approaches him hesitantly. “I can’t put into words what you are.”

“You don’t need words. Your feelings speak well enough.”

He rolls his eyes when Rean continues to look confused. He sits up and reaches out to the other. Rean flinches back.

“Those feelings. You’ve already said that you will never accept me.” He lies back down and stares up at his hand. It’s glowing with red veins, shining through his blood stained skin. “I am just mere trash in your eyes.”

“But you’re so…”

“Tranquil? Don’t be fooled. I’m only like this because you’re so messed up in the head. I am still what you hate… What you fear…” 

His other hand reaches out to pick at the scars. Cris cross. Slash slash. How ugly.

“I am you, but you do not want to be me. I am the blade in your heart that you fail to grasp. You let me slip. You hurt me. You want to destroy me. This ends up hurting everyone around you.”

The stars in the sky begin to dim. Just wonderful.

“For that, I hate you. For as long as you reject me, I will never give you control.”

Rean bites his lip. “I’m sor—”

“Don’t say what you don’t mean. You would never apologize to yourself, so don’t apologize to me just because I’ve been personified in your mind. As you are now, I will still hurt everyone if you try calling for me.”

“But…”

“Have you already forgotten?” He scoffs, moving to stand up. “Then, let me show you.”

He lunges forward and grabs Rean’s arm.

.

 

.

 

.

“Schwarzer, stop! Wake up!”

He gasps awake, heart pounding, veins thrumming with power that needs to be let out. Everywhere he looks, there’s a tint of red. Again. Again. It’s happening again. 

“Rean, breathe with me. One. Two. Three.” It’s Elise. She’s here. Again. While he’s like this. He can’t keep doing this to her. “One. Two. Three. There we go.”

He’s breathing more steadily now, but he can still feel the power creeping up his spine. It’s unshakeable. Suffocating. 

“His wounds have reopened.” It’s Patrick’s voice. “I’ll… call a nurse.”

“Your eyes,” Elise mutters more to herself than to him. 

It isn’t long before Elise and Patrick are asked to leave the room as a doctor and nurse fix his stitches. There isn’t any pain thanks to the analgesic they gave him, but there is a disturbing calm that washes over him when he sees how many stitches he has, how many scars have been left alone.

Eventually, the raging power fades away. 

The doctor tells him the obligatory “Don’t move around” and “Don’t take off your bandages” before they leave. Elise and Patrick return to the room.

He can't bear to look at his sister. He looks down at his lap.

They wade in awkward silence until Elise takes a seat in the chair beside his bed. She tries to grab his hand, but he flinches back.

Softly, she whispers, “I'm sorry.”

“You have nothing to apologize for.”

“I was the one who set you off on the rooftop.”

“It was inevitable.”

He can hear teeth grinding together from beside him. It's no surprise that she's getting frustrated. It’s always like this with her. He always feels like a robot around her, spouting out automatic responses so he doesn't have to think about the red, the real problem here.

It's silent again.

They really can't talk to each other like normal siblings.

A loud huff comes from the door. Patrick is standing by it as he puts his foot past the exit to leave. 

“Perhaps it's not my place to speak in your family conversation,“ Patrick sighs. “But I believe your sister at least deserves to be looked at when she’s talking to you.”

The door closes, leaving him alone with his sister.

Rean’s hands twitch, fingers digging deeper into the bedsheets. Patrick has a point, but… Elise doesn't deserve to be looked at by a monster like him. He, who never seems to do anything but inflict pain upon her.

On the other hand, she doesn't deserve to be more disrespected by him.

Hesitantly. He tips his chin up, vision slowly trailing up her body until their eyes lock together. 

“Wha… What’s with that face?” Her eyes are soft, glistening with tears but hold no fury or disappointment. Just simple patience and glimmering hope. “Why do you look so… happy?”

Elise sniffles just before stifling a laugh. 

“I already told you why, silly. It’s because I care about you.” Her hand moves to hold his own, and he's too shocked to run away this time. “I’m just happy… that you’re alive and here right now.”

He still doesn't get it.

“How…” His voice cracks and trembles. “How can you still care deeply about me?” 

After I’ve failed you.

“We’ve been through this before. Do you really think that just because of a mistake, I can't keep loving you?” 

Rean looks away, but then Patrick’s words echo in his mind. With a frustrated clench in his teeth, he continues meeting her steel gaze.

“You're too kind.” Are the only words he can find to retort.

Elise takes a deep breath.

“I'm not, Rean. Please throw that belief out the window. I'm not some kind saint that you don't deserve. I'm here with you because I want to be. I'm trying to help you because I want to make up for what I said in the past.” She bites her lip, stifling a hiccup. “I called you so many terrible things that were wrong, and I’m sorry for that! I’m sorry for making you believe that you’re a monster! I’m sorry for making you believe that you had to hide your pain and wear that stupid fake smile every day! I’m so sorry! For not being a better sister to you!”

 “No— I’m the one who’s—”

“We both haven’t been good siblings to each other!” Elise interrupts him, voice shaking. Her other hand moves to clasp his own together in a tight grip. “But that’s why I’m here! Apologizing! Crying! Holding onto you! That’s why I keep coming back to you whenever you fall! And I’ll keep coming back to you every time you fall because I don’t want to believe that we can’t ever be better for each other! Because I don’t want to give up! Because I want to change! And I know, somewhere deep inside, you want to, too! So don’t you dare leave me behind and not even try to do the same!”

Rean feels his breath be taken away as she releases his hand to wipe away her tears. Turquoise eyes glimmer and overflow with determination, staring at him as if to erase his lingering despair with her hope.

He shakes his head. He can’t. I can’t.

“The only way you can't change is if you’ve convinced yourself that you can’t be the person that I know you can be.”

Her hand is then held out in the air, waiting for him. For him to be the one to reach out first.

The clock ticks away.

A cloud covers the sun.

Moments pass, and Rean never takes her waiting hand. Eventually, she lowers her arm.

“It’s okay. I can wait.” There is still no disappointment, only infinite patience. “In the meantime, however, until you reach out, I’m confiscating your tachi.”

Part of his heart drops, realizing he is truly a failure of a Eight Leaves One Blade disciple. On the other hand, he can understand. He doesn't think he could trust himself to hold a weapon without hurting… well, himself.

“This isn’t a punishment, Rean,” Elise gently says while she raises her hand to glide her fingers over his hair. It's a pleasant feeling, although the voice in the back of his head whispers that it's another thing he doesn't deserve. “But, for everyone’s sake— for your sake, you have to change.”

.

 

.

 

.

Rean gasps and gasps, curling into himself as he clutches at the almost filled hole in his chest.

“Don't force yourself. I have no desire to hurt anyone either.”

He walks away from the other, content to focus on the change in the landscape. The darkness that used to cling onto their feet has turned into clear water. It's less maddening, even when it allows him to see his full reflection.

Ashen hair that flows past his shoulders. Scarlet eyes to match the blood on his hands. Eerie lines of red that trace all the way from his fingertips to his face. Behind him is a… vast shadow that stretches all the way to the horizon. Within it, infinite wild eyes open and stare up at him. It has infinite mouths as well, destroying the silence with garbled words. 

 

.̸̛̪̦͖̘̜͔̯́̓̅͐͐̄̏͊̿̐͘̚̚͜͠   .̸̢̠͓̭̓̀̌͝   .̴̧̣͍̩͊͗́͌̓̐̆́̒̈́̚̕   “I’m jealous.” .̷̡̩̣̠̣̪̹̥̖̼̳̳͍̭̠̖̰̐̑́̈́̓̒   .̷   .̴̢͝   .̸͇̣̬͓̠́̾

.̵̢̰͈̱̩͓͑.̶̨͇̳̻̝̬͓̻̺̰̹͙͓̫̪̓̄́̋́͘ͅ    .̷͙̮̗̟̥̓͒̈́̄́̈́̍̄̌̐̾̓̾̐̓̄̈́̇̐͋̉̈͆͘̚ͅ   .̷̮̕ ̷͇͔͈̫̣̂̍͗̎  “What is this warmth?” .̸̛̟̻̳̝͉̘͐̀̅̔͊̿̈́͘   .̷̨͈͍͙̪͂͠͠   .̶̜̰̝̺͍̰̘̭͌̀̌̔́̃̕͝

  .̷͙̮̗̟̥̓͒̈́̄́̈́̍̄̌̐̾̓̾̐̓̄̈́̇̐͋̉̈͆͘̚ͅ   .̶̜̰̝̺͍̰̘̭͌̀̌̔́̃̕͝ “This light?” .̷̡̩̣̠̣̪̹̥̖̼̳̳͍̭̠̖̰̐̑́̈́̓̒   .̸̢̠͓̭̓̀̌͝   

“Get it away from me.” .̴̱̩̭̊́͌͆̊̀̉̂͘   .̴̡̢̝͙͚̳͔̥͈̼̮͛͌̇͋̔̓̊̏̄̎̏̔͋̕͜͠    .̴̢̡̦̣͔̗͎̲̣͈̥͙͉̱̲̙̥͓͖̘͍̤͊

.̴̱̩̭̊́͌͆̊̀̉̂͘   .̴̡̢̝͙͚̳͔̥͈̼̮͛͌̇͋̔̓̊̏̄̎̏̔͋̕͜͠    .̴̢̡̦̣͔̗͎̲̣͈̥͙͉̱̲̙̥͓͖̘͍̤͊ “Fall.” ̴͕̩̏̒͠   .̷̢̡̢̖̻̯͚͆̌̉͛̒̍̚͠   .̷̱͂̈́͌̂́̑̉̍̌͐̓̽̅̒͝͝

.̵̢̰͈̱̩͓͑ ̴̜͚̜̈́͗̍̈́̈̃͜͝   .̸͙̉ ̶̢̎   .̷̮̕ ̷͇͔͈̫̣̂̍͗̎  “We are nothing.” .̴̸̧̧̧̜̥͈̻͓͇͚̯̣̠̯͕̞̹̦̅̒̒͆͗́͒͐̒̎̍̌͗̈̇̌̿̓̀̋͜͜͝͠    .̴̡̢̝͙͚̳͔̥͈̼̮͛͌̇͋̔̓̊̏̄̎̏̔͋̕͜͠   

“Lack of happiness is the root cause of all hatred.”

    .̸̛̟̻̳̝͉̘͐̀̅̔͊̿̈́͘   .̷̨͈͍͙̪͂͠͠  “Keep it away.” .̴̱̩̭̊́͌͆̊̀̉̂͘   .̴̡̢̝͙͚̳͔̥͈̼̮͛͌̇͋̔̓̊̏̄̎̏̔͋̕͜͠    .̴̢̡̦̣͔̗͎̲̣͈̥͙͉̱̲̙̥͓͖̘͍̤͊

 .̴̸̧̧̧̜̥͈̻͓͇͚̯̣̠̯͕̞̹̦̅̒̒͆͗́͒͐̒̎̍̌͗̈̇̌̿̓̀̋͜͜͝͠    .̴̡̢̝͙͚̳͔̥͈̼̮͛͌̇͋̔̓̊̏̄̎̏̔͋̕͜͠   “Keep it away!” ̶̧̨̝̀̎͛̇̚͜    ̴͕̩̏̒͠   .̷̢̡̢̖̻̯͚͆̌̉͛̒̍̚͠   

    .̸̛̟̻̳̝͉̘͐̀̅̔͊̿̈́͘   .̷̨͈͍͙̪͂͠͠  “Hatred is all I have.” .̴̸̧̧̧̜̥͈̻͓͇͚̯̣̠̯͕̞̹̦̅̒̒͆͗́͒͐̒̎̍̌͗̈̇̌̿̓̀̋͜͜͝͠    .̴̡̢̝͙͚̳͔̥͈̼̮͛͌̇͋̔̓̊̏̄̎̏̔͋̕͜͠   

̶̧̨̝̀̎͛̇̚͜    ̴͕̩̏̒͠   .̷̢̡̢̖̻̯͚͆̌̉͛̒̍̚͠   “Don’t take it away from me!” .̵̢̰͈̱̩͓͑ ̴̜͚̜̈́͗̍̈́̈̃͜͝   .̸͙̉ ̶̢̎   .̷̮̕ ̷͇͔͈̫̣̂̍͗̎  

He closes his eyes, envisioning a woman with golden hair and silver armor. He remembers her kindness, her light. He recalls the happiness she tried to foster within him. Rean may be completely clueless, but it’s because of her, that…

With one swing, the knife severs the shadow. 

“Shh. You’re already history.”

The ghastly voices are silenced as the abomination is fractured and shattered into pieces. Fragments of darkness sink into the clear water.

He is not Ishmelga’s, not any longer. 

Still, he is hideous. He doesn’t blame Rean at all for wanting to reject him. He can't even blame Rean if he never accepts him. 

.

 

.

 

.

A breeze brushes against his cheek. His eyes crack open to see the window lifted up slightly.

“It’s nice weather out there. Some fresh air would be a nice change in pace,” Gaius says, standing beside the window.

Rean shields his eyes from the rays of light until his eyes adjust, ready to shift his body away until he feels a weight against his lap. With one pat against the weight, he feels silky fur and hears a pleased purr.

“I told Celine to give you a break, but she insisted.” Emma sits on a chair beside the foot of his bed. Her hands fiddle with a tiny string of chains. It appears to be a necklace of some sort. “I guess Fie wasn’t lying when she said you’re a very comfortable napping partner.”

He stares at them for a few awkward moments before closing his eyes and relaxing in bed. He feels… oddly peaceful right now, despite how his mind can’t stop running through his talk with Elise. With everyone else.

They ask him to reach out for help. They ask him to be better, to change. They ask him to do things he doesn’t know how to do. He doesn’t even know what to do. For the longest time, he’s been fueled by his promise to fulfill the mission his dad gave him. After losing himself and almost killing himself, it feels like he’s even forfeited that. 

Will Dad even continue to trust him with his mission? They haven’t contacted him once since he’s woken up. Does that mean the plan hasn’t changed or that Dad has given up on him? If he loses this mission, then what does he do?

Some part of him feels silly to worry about these things when he could be dead right now and none of that would matter anymore.

Resigned, he sighs. “Okay, let’s get this over with.”

“Uh, Rean?”

“Every time I wake up, someone’s always there to give me a motivational speech.”

Gaius chuckles, “You could say they’ve learned from the best.”

“You don’t need to flatter me.”

“As your friend, it’s my duty to feed your ego.”

“It’s stuff like that…” Rean makes a point to turn his head to face away from Gaius. For the first time, he sees the vital signs machine and finds that he’s completely stable. It seems like a lie, but he closes his eyes and he feels… good? There’s soreness from not moving, but he feels… awake. Energized. Like he actually wants to go outside and feel more of the breeze.

So strange.

“Well, since we’re getting permission, I did want to talk to you about something, Rean,” Emma says as she moves her chair closer to him. She holds up the necklace to him. “Though it’s nothing like a life-changing speech.”

Gravity pushes something to the bottom of the necklace. It’s a locket.

His locket.

“It was cut off during our fight in the Old Schoolhouse.” She drops the necklace into his waiting palm. “Unfortunately, too much of the chain was broken, so I had to help make a new one.”

He thumbs over the flat surface of the locket before closing his fist around it. “That’s fine… I don’t think I can thank you enough for fixing it and giving it back to me.”

“No need to feel indebted. It seems special to you.” Emma smiles brightly for a moment. Then, her expression morphs into something more hesitant. “I just have one question. Did you know that there was a paper talisman inside the locket?”

She pulls out a small piece of black paper.

He shakes his head.

“We found it in your locket. It’s a talisman that induces the berserk status on its wearer.”

“Berserk..?” When? How? Is this the reason why he’s been feeling so out of control lately? 

A talisman… Only a witch would be capable of crafting such a thing. And a black piece of paper… 

Black Alberich.

His fist clenches the bedsheets. The pieces start clicking together faster than he can process the conclusion.

Alberich planned this. Everything. Their meeting in Nord wasn’t just to test out his new technology, he specifically sought Rean out to put this talisman on him. He scripted that whole conversation to enhance his fear of himself. That whole conversation with Georg must’ve been set up to make him lose himself further.

The realization makes him click his tongue out of frustration. Spite grows within him.

The worst part of all this, was that he believed in Alberich’s words.

He still believes in them.

Another gentle breeze passes through the window and combs through his hair. It soothes him somewhat.

“By that reaction, I’m going to guess that you figured out how you ended up with that,” Gaius says.

Rean bites his lip. They’ve received many hints, but he can’t just talk about Ishmelga and Alberich with them. No matter what they say, he’s alone in this matter. 

Unfortunately for him, his friends are too insightful for their own good.

“It happened back during our field study in the Nord Highlands,” Gaius continues, though he talks like they’re discussing something as pleasant as the weather. “Maybe back when you encountered a man who goes by Professor Lughman? When you rode a horse with a witch impersonating a reporter?”

His silence is as good as a yes.

His nails dig into his palm.

“Now, now,” Emma tries to placate him. She takes his hand and gently opens up his fingers. “We don’t expect you to tell us why you’ve been targeted by a witch and whoever Professor Lughman really is. We just want to let you know that it isn’t your fault.”

Not… His fault?

He stares at her like she’s grown a second head.

“I know you’re scared of your power, but you only lost control of it because of someone else’s meddling. You’ve done a good job keeping yourself under control. Even under the talisman’s influence, the only thing you had on your mind was protecting us. That’s… no small feat.”

“It’s nothing.”

“It is.” Gaius steps closer and places a comforting hand on his shoulder. “We tried wearing the talisman when we were trying to figure out what it did. When Machias put it on, he punched Jusis in the face. And when I put it on, I had the sudden urge to see Alphonse Q. Henzel’s head on a pike.”

What a terrifying thing to say with a pleasant smile.

At least he has something to direct the conversation away from him for once. “Alphonse has been found?”

“Yeah. Alphonse Q. Henzel is fine.”

Why does he keep saying the full name? “...Is that it?”

“Yeah.”

“A- Anyway,” Emma coughs into her fist. “Since we’re already off topic, can I ask you another question?”

He nods. He’ll take anything to stop talking about himself.

“What do you remember when you fought Crow in the Old Schoolhouse?”

He doesn’t even need to dig into his head for an answer, not like he wants to relive all those memories. “It’s all a blur. At some point, everyone turned into colors that I just had to… slash away at. I remember everything I did, but I don’t really know what you guys did to fight back. With Crow, I just know that he beat me.”

He also remembers…

“What don’t I understand?!” 

“Is it that you’re so blind you can’t even see how much people love you?!”

“That you’re so selfish that you want to leave everyone and everything behind?!”

“That you’re so weak that you’re looking to die?!"

Crow’s voice was the only one to really reach him during his frenzy. While he’d been blocking everyone else’s words of desperate hope, Crow had met him head on with a storm of hatred. He’s always been weak to those emotions, so of course that he wouldn’t be able to resist drowning in it at his lowest point.

Ha… He hadn’t believed in those words at that time, but now… He knows he’s been seen right through.

Though, to be carrying that much burning hatred, he wonders if Crow will be fine. An easygoing smile isn’t enough to erase buried demons. Rean would know that best. 

“Why are you asking? Is he okay?”

“He’s fine.” Emma’s face betrays nothing. “I was just wondering what kind of technique he used to stop you in case it might be useful for the future, but he keeps saying that ‘the good ol’ power of friendship saved the day.’”

“Okay..?”

Silence drifts in, no one wanting to elaborate any further. Anxiety rises within him as he thinks this is the moment. They’re going to hit him with a kind speech about letting him rely on them, about believing in himself, about—

Emma pulls out another thing that looks like a necklace and fiddles with it. Gaius opens the window just a little more and basks in the sunlight as he pulls a book out to read. They say no more, they ask nothing more of him. They really just wanted some information, and it benefited him as well.

Now, they’re just… here.

And that speaks louder than words.

Minutes pass. He listens to everyone’s breathing. Steady and calm, like the wind. He looks outside, then at the locket in his hand.

He’s not going to lose control. If his recent dreams mean anything, he won’t lose control unless he actively calls for that cursed power. He doesn’t have to worry about hurting anyone. Not right now.

He’s still mad about what Alberich did to him, and part of him is spiteful enough to want to do something not according to his plans. Like… Take a walk. If he can’t die right now, then he wants to go outside. He can take a walk without fearing he’ll lose control. 

Is that… Is that okay?

“Hey…” This voice brings Gaius and Emma’s soft gazes toward him. Even Celine wakes up and looks at him with a hint of curiosity. “Do you… Do you think I can change?”

They all exchange a surprised look, but it quickly melts into something fond.

“To change makes it sound more difficult than it actually is,” Gaius smiles.  “You are who you choose to be, as long as you decide who that is.” 

.

“We wanted to give that boy another chance to have a family and home.”

.

“You do owe yourself to make choices you actually believe in.”

.

“Do you want to stay the same forever?”

.

“It's hard to be scared of you when you're my hero.”

.

“The only way you can't change is if you’ve convinced yourself that you can’t be the person that I know you can be.”

.̴̢͝   .̸̦͖̦̙̫̜̪̒̇̆̒    ̵̯̾     ̴̢̛͈̂̀̑    ̶̧̨̝̀̎͛̇̚͜    ̴͕̩̏̒͠   .̸̧͇̑̚

“Do you still want to be a coward who kills himself?”

.̶͎͌̀̄͆   .̵̢̰͈̱̩͓͑ ̴̜͚̜̈́͗̍̈́̈̃͜͝   .̸͙̉ ̶̢̎   .̷̮̕ ̷͇͔͈̫̣̂̍͗̎   .̶̟̼̏ ̸̧̦̀̋   .̴ ̴   .̶̧̡̤̫̻͓̜̗̪̠̤̭̱̤̟͖̇̿̽́̈͂̏́͛͛̿̀̕̚͝   

“Who do you want to be?” Emma wipes away the tear in the corner of his eye.

There's so much he wants to be. He doesn’t know if it’s possible anymore at this point. He doesn’t even know if he deserves his dreams.

“I…” He closes his eyes. He can’t believe he’s about to say this. It’s so silly, so insignificant. “I want to at least be someone who can walk outside.”

It’s not a difficult endeavor. After the doctor tests his strength and balance, he’s cleared to take a short walk outside. His classmates don’t hesitate to assist him while he moves. He’s still a little wobbly and he’s short of breath every so often, but it’s all worth it when the sun hits his face and the wind brushes against his whole body. 

He still doesn’t want to see the future, but this… The present is fine. If he can let himself forget the past and the future, then he can say he doesn’t mind living out this one moment right now.

When they return to his room, Gaius and Emma stick around for a little longer. They continue the silence, the peace. It’s been a while, but he feels… safe.

.

 

.

 

.

“The fact that you keep coming back here makes me wonder if you need me, even though I know better.”

“Why do we keep meeting like this?”

He stares down at Rean. In his chest, there are only two missing fragments left. Alisa and…

“You can choose to let these meetings stop now that you’re feeling a little better. You can go back to ignoring me like you've been for the past however many years.”

“I see…”

“Don't sound so conflicted. Your friend was right. It all boils down to who you choose to be. Do you want me to be part of you or not? The answer is obvious.”

He closes his eyes as he feels a blow of wind against his face. It's so refreshing. This place is so much more comfortable now. There's only one thing missing. Only one thing he wants to see:

A new dawn.

Such is a pipe dream.

“I don't like you.”

“I know.”

“I'm still scared of you.”

“We've established this already.”

“But I…” Rean takes a step toward him. He doesn’t do anything else, doesn’t even meet his gaze like the coward that he is. “I want to be someone who’s not scared of you.”

That catches his interest. His eyelids open halfway as a smirk twists at his lips. “Oh..?”

“I don’t know if it’s possible. I don’t even know where to start being less scared of you. But, I just want to say it while I’m already saying silly things.”

This is the least silly thing Rean has said since they’ve been in this space. It’s infuriating to hear it be called such. 

“It’s not silly. People aren’t meant to be scared of themselves, so why should you?”

“What..?” Judging by Rean’s tone, he doesn’t expect to hear the encouragement from him —of all people. It’s only a testament to how twisted Rean’s mind is, that he’s the one of them who’s inherited all the hope. 

Ha. Such an irony will only make it more tragic if Rean never accepts him. 

“People are supposed to believe in themselves.”

“Why are you..?”

He turns away and walks on this endless ocean, under this endless sky. He’ll have to wait a long time before he’ll be able to see what he wants, but he can’t help but wonder if he can chase after it.

“Your bonds. They’ve taught me that.”

He can hear Rean walk after him, but he can sense that he will disappear very soon. There’s also… This gut feeling. That they won’t meet again for a long time. Not until Rean is ready. 

Or until Ishmelga decides to interfere with them again.

“So, you better not abandon them again.”

.

 

.

 

.

Rean finds himself alone in his room for once. It’s been seven days, but today is the day he gets discharged from the hospital. He’s already gone over the plan yesterday. The Schwarzers will pick him up and let him mentally rest back at Ymir for a couple of extra days. After that, he will be returning to school. 

The thought of that makes his heart heavy. He’s done many things at school that he regrets, and he doesn’t want to think about how everyone will treat him when he returns. Most of Class VII seem to be willing to welcome him back with open arms, but he disrespected so many other people there. The Student Council, his friends from other classes, all the nobles…

It would be so easy to quit school. But, he’s had no contact from his dad during his whole stay at the hospital. It can only mean that none of their plans have changed, as long as Rean doesn’t try to kill himself again. Clearly it doesn't matter, seeing how Georg had already told him that they would just revive him as a shell of himself if he were to die?

He grimaces at the thought. He dreads the day he will have talk to Dad again after he'd already promised to not kill himself before. How disappointed must he be to know that Rean keeps making the same mistakes.

There’s a knock on his door.

“Excuse me.” The door opens to reveal Principal Vandyke. Closing the door behind him, he says, “Good morning, Rean Schwarzer.”

“Good morning…” He narrows his eyes at the principal, wondering if he’s seeing things again. This is an unplanned meeting. 

“I know this seems abrupt to you, and I would prefer to have this conversation while you are feeling better. Unfortunately, certain nobles have been getting restless, so I have to get to the bottom of this now. It’s about Alphonse Henzel’s disappearance.”

“I thought he was found?” 

“Indeed.” Vandyle sighs as he takes a seat in one of the chairs next to Rean’s bed. “He was found gagged and tied up to a chair in your room in the Noble Dormitory.”

“What?”

Really? Of all the things to accuse Rean of, it’s that? He vaguely remembers Alphonse’s attempt to kill him the night before the incident, it would be easier for Alphonse to switch the story and accuse him of attempted murder.

“Your classmates don’t believe it. Your teachers don’t believe it. As your principal, I am unbiased, but—keep this between us—I don’t believe it. Some of the nobles, however, think you did it because Henzel claims to have seen you before knocking him out. In addition to the fact that he was found in your room and no one claims to have seen you the morning before his disappearance was announced.”

He barely even remembers what he had been doing that morning. He remembers being in the woods. He remembers seeing streaks of red— Oh. The cuts.

Timidly, he lightly rubs at his arms. “The only thing I can say to defend myself is that no one would’ve seen me return or leave the dorms all morning.”

“They claim that you have a tendency to jump out the window.”

That gets him exasperated. “Does anyone really think I can drag a human body through a window on the second floor of the dormitory without anyone noticing?”

“They claim that you have supernatural strength.”

“I get the feeling they're just throwing claims around…” Even though that one is technically true.

Vandyke barks out a hearty laugh as he pats him on the back. “I'm glad to see you engaged in this discussion and are actively defending yourself. Thankfully, with some logical reasoning and evidence being dug up by your classmates, the case will be dismissed and Henzel will be punished accordingly for falsely accusing you.”

That brings some relief, but Rean isn’t a fool. Principal Vandyke wouldn’t come all the way here just to tell him this.

“Now, onto the real issue. There's a witness who claims that you led all of your classmates plus some others to the Old Schoolhouse and attempted to murder all of them. Based on the health records, it is an undeniable fact that your injuries were caused by them, and their injuries were caused by you.”

A witness? At this point, he doubts it would be anyone who tried to save him, or else why bother saving him? But then, who else would just happen to travel to the depths of the Old Schoolhouse while there’s a thick fog and a missing student? To his knowledge, the only people who’ve even been inside the Old Schoolhouse and know how it works are teachers, Class VII, and select upperclassmen…

“They were only trying to—”

Vandyke shakes his head. “The reason doesn’t matter to them.”

“To who?”

“The integrity of Class VII is being put up for scrutinization. The class has already received backlash for its unprecedented mixture of social classes. However, because of what you’ve done as a commoner-born noble in a class like this, many nobles keep claiming that this is evidence that the co-existence of nobles and commoners on the same level is impossible. The board of directors are forced to have a meeting about whether or not Class VII should continue to exist.”

His heart sinks. 

Because of him… Class VII is being threatened to dismantle… Wait.

 

“But yes, the plan did involve separating you from them. Forever.”

 

This reeks of Black Alberich’s doing again. This is his plan B since Rean has survived.

Principal Vandyke pats him in the shoulder again, as if to nudge him out of his thoughts. "Schwarzer, it’s too early to despair. From my perspective, I believe we’ll be able to calm those nobles down and keep the class running. Though, it will heavily depend on what you choose to do.”

“My choice?”

“Many eyes will be on you. You’ve become what many people see as the prime example of what happens when the two classes mix. Many will want to see you fail to prove that social classes should continue to be divided. That’s why, it will be on you to prove that this social experiment of a class isn’t a failure.”

Rean stares at Principal Vandyke in disbelief. He can’t even believe in himself. How can he prove himself to anyone?

The air is suffocating. “That… Doesn’t sound like I have much of a choice…”

“That is unfortunately the reality you have to face if you don’t want Class VII to disband,” Principal Vandyke says. “I know the true reason that brought you to the hospital, so I’m sorry that you have to deal with this while you’re still recovering. All I can do to help you is to give you time.”

“Time for what?”

“With all accusations and the evidence of you heavily injuring your classmates, you will be suspended. Part of it is to not stoke the flames of this whole debacle with you returning so soon. The other part is to give you time to recollect yourself. You’ll have to be stronger and unwavering. You’ll have to carve a place for yourself in this world and be comfortable with it if you want to get through this without another breakdown.”

He already feels his body shaking with despair. “How much time do I have?”

“Until your next field study.”

That’s in two weeks. He might as well be expelled and be deemed a failure. This is impossible.

But, he can’t just ruin Class VII because of his dumb choices.

He can’t.

He can’t…

“I don't want to be the reason Class VII falls apart.” The words are choked out. "I'll... I'll get better..."

He doesn’t believe. He doesn’t believe in himself at all. But… A spark of belief begins with a wish for something you want, apparently. Wishes don’t come true without trying. He has to believe in their words. He has to try.

If it's for them, he'll even... 

Notes:

Finally, I tried so damn hard to get Rean just one step away from this giant depressed hole I dug him in, and he's finally… well, not gonna kill himself at the moment mode. Seriously, as a writer, I try to avoid redundancies and the same lessons learned. Realistically, however, you gotta throw the same message in different flavors to someone like this until they decide to listen. It was a hard juggle, but I think I managed? Near the end of the chapter feels a little rushed though, but that’s because I saw the finish line and SPRINTED.

Anyway, there’s a little bump in the road, but it’s motivation! It’s the official start of Rean’s mental/emotional healing journey where he starts getting better until, well, you’ll see the outline. No Alisa because their reconciliation was planned for later. No Crow because he's a coward battling with an existential crisis. No Sara because she pops in soon. Ideally, Towa would be here, but Rean's already super overwhelmed and I don't have enough life-changing speeches, so I'll give us a break lol.

Next chapter would be Millium and Gaius’ POVs (I didn’t forget about them!) and they would give insight on certain things behind the scenes and detail school life while Rean’s under suspension. But alas, to the outline they go. Well, Millium’s POV had already been mostly written out before (she's so easy to write, she has to be my spirit animal or something), so unfortunately, Gaius is the one who gets the short end of the stick.

So you may have noticed that this fic will be 32 chapters long. If you missed it before, I’m abandoning this fic and this is technically the final properly written chapter. The rest will be the outline. And considering its length, I decided to split each section according to the games. So, chapter 27 and 28 will be the rest of CS1’s outline, chapter 29 will be CS2, chapter 30 will be its intermission, chapter 31 will be CS3 and chapter 32 will be CS4. This is for organization’s sake and ain’t no way am I going to fix the formatting errors—that AO3 gets whenever I transfer the writing over—for 50,000+ words in one sitting lmao. I’m also going to spend some time writing stuff that’s just simple fun. Like, Class VII trying to figure out what the berserk talisman does is just too hilarious to me.

Again, thank you all for your support! You’ve all been a wonderful community and this fic would have never made it this far or been of this quality without all of you! Really, the only thing I actually planned when I wrote the first chapter was how CS1 ends lol. 300,000+ words later: -_-. So yeah, thanks. I really am going to miss this! XD

Oh, last thing. I recently finished Reverie. That finale… Mn, chef’s kiss! I enjoyed the conclusion to many of the characters, Rean especially. What a lovely send off to them.

Anyway, take care~

Chapter 27: CSI - Part One

Notes:

Guess who's back and it's still May~

This outline is divided in “chapters” for the sake of organization. If I actually wrote this all out, I doubt it would all be contained in just 10 chapters lol.

There is one thing about the outline’s structure that is weird but is too tedious for me to fix, and it's my use of past and present tense. When I outline, I tend to write in the present tense. When I actually write, I tend to go past tense (unless the POV is on the edge of a mental breakdown, in which case present tense just feels *right*). What I'm basically saying is that there's a bunch of prewritten stuff and a bunch of outlines, so you're going to see the tenses swap a lot. I tried to at least keep it consistent in the sections, but… oh well.

“What has really happened when you feel alone is that you’ve abandoned yourself. You have stopped taking care of your own basic needs— you don't value your own thoughts, and you don’t take care of your physical, emotional, or spiritual self. This is what is causing you to feel alone. You have abandoned you.” - Gregg Michaelson

 

---

---

Chapter 27 - Pulsation to Tomorrow 

[Millium POV]

“Well, Rean’s… important.” 

A gentle wind had ruffled her hair as she bathed in the gaps of sunlight peeking through the trees. Casually laying against Lammy, Millium tilted her head, confused about the vague answer. Lechter was usually pretty good at explaining things in a way that Millium could understand, but important could mean anything. Like Lammy, food, the rest of the Ironbloods, and Gramps. What made Rean different?

Hearing nothing but silence on the other end of the line, she made up her own conclusion.

“Is it because he might be the Awakener or something? One of my classmates was talking about that.”

“Huh? Well, I guess that’s part of it… Anyway, because he’s important, you have to look after him.”

Well, that didn’t really explain anything, but if Lechter was being unclear on purpose, she wouldn’t question it. “Oh! So I’m basically his big sister, then! Er… But why do I have to look after him? Is he in danger? Who do I have to protect him from?”

“You catch on quick. Listen carefully, you have to protect him from himself.”

Her eyebrows scrunched together in confusion, having never heard of such an order before. Plus, why would anyone ever want to hurt themselves? That sounded counterproductive!

“He’s… a danger to himself? Why?”

”Sorry, I can’t give you the details. Just know that he is and you have to make sure he doesn’t do something stupid.”

“Okay! No problemo!” She’d had to work with less information for other missions before, so this was no biggie. “But… Um… Define stupid because Jusis says Machias does a lot of stupid stuff, but no one’s doing anything about it.”

“By stupid, I mean… Hm… Well, if you notice any signs like…”

…

Isolation; withdrawing from friends. 

Eating or sleeping more or less.

Violent behavior. Self harm.

Wishing for death.

Et cetera et cetera.

No matter how hard she tried, Millium could not comprehend why anyone would want to ruin their life. Friends were fun! Eating was great! No pain is, well, better than having pain! Rean had all of that! Why deprive yourself of the good things in life? Why make it harder to want to wake up the next morning?

Oh well. An order was an order, she'd try her best to succeed like this was any other mission. Just make sure Rean doesn't die, easy-peasy lemon squeezy. If he doesn't eat, throw snacks into his room. If he doesn’t sleep, drug him! Yep, easy solutions!

Why would he even want to kill himself anyway?

What was there to gain from death?

What even was death, really?

It wasn't an unfamiliar concept to her. While she had a tendency to capture enemies alive for Lechter to interrogate later, she was no stranger to witnessing jaegers brutally eliminate their enemies. Or seeing enemies kill themselves to keep their mouths shut.

People die. It was just a fact of life. Millium was indifferent to it.

So, it was strange.

When a sudden chill began to creep into her bones.

When a strange pressure built up behind her eyes during Machias’ confession about what happened to his cousin and how he could see the same in Rean.

Screams. Cries. Exhaustion.

Disbelief. Defeat. Fear.

Hopelessness. Helplessness.

Emotions. Emotions.

Millium was not one to feel many emotions. She didn't think it was possible to understand anything besides her default feelings.

But… Watching Class VII… Watching her friend nearly ruin themselves trying to figure out— trying to help Rean was almost… overwhelming.

Touching.

Real.

When Rean jumped off the school rooftop, it felt like the world was cracking. Not in the sense that her whole life was falling apart or that she didn't know what to believe in anymore, no. It felt like she just noticed that she'd been seeing the world in some fake, bright lense.

Like nothing had really mattered but she didn't care, happy with just the simple pleasures of life.

Like she was free. Indestructible. With nothing to lose as long as she did her best. Gramps always had a backup plan in case she failed, after all.

But.

But…

In the Old Schoolhouse. Seeing Rean be embraced by that ghost. Seeing the peace in her posture. Seeing the longing in his eyes…

She understood two things at that moment.

Why Rean wanted to die so badly.

How Millium could lose someone she cared about, and never come back.

That was death.

An end.

Peace.

To never be able to play games with someone ever again.

That was when her world shattered.

Heart racing. Limbs shaking. Smile wobbling.

Panic. Panic. Fear. Dread.

Panic and fear were somewhat familiar to her, especially with the ghost haunting the dorms, but dread? She'd never experienced such an emotion before, but she let it drive her. If it would let her act faster. Think smarter. Do anything— she'd accept it and move on.

Even if they made her curse her own weakness for the first time in her existence. She was slow. Rean was fast.

How was she supposed to stop him?

The many sprinkles of sepith on the ground were her answer.

How to protect someone before they kill themselves? There was an easy recipe. Earth for protection. Time for speed. Rinse and repeat. Might as well cast a bunch of buffs on herself right now too.

And that was how she found herself skipping down those stairs until she saw Rean, with a blade against his neck. She stopped in her tracks, ARCUS activating in an instant and throwing out a spell so fast it made her dizzy. 

But, she couldn’t stop. Lechter taught her that actions have consequences, and the consequence of her stopping would be Rean’s death. Or Crow’s, considering the ferocious backlash from Rean was more targeted to the upperclassman. And while she didn’t consider herself too close with Crow, she knew Rean would never forgive himself if he were to kill any of them.

And oh boy, Rean was too strong! No wonder Gramps and Lechter wanted to recruit him! She wondered if she gave him the offer right now, maybe he would reconsider this whole killing himself business? After all, who wouldn’t want to work with Gramps and the Ironbloods! They were so much fun!

But alas, Crow’s stupid gun decided to break at the worst time, and Millium knew there was only one thing to do to keep them both alive. After getting smacked into the wall and seeing darkness erode her vision, she could only hope that she wouldn’t wake up to a nightmare. 

When she woke up, she found…

Smiles. Tears of joy. A group hug.

Yes, this was more like it…

She joined the class and would’ve cried in relief if she could, thankful that no one had to say any goodbyes today.

Death… Goodbyes… It can be a scary thing.

And, it was inevitable.

…

What a scary thought.

If she had to die… How would she say goodbye?

 

[Gaius POV]

Talk about what’s been going on with the church. Since the Nord Highlands Field Study, he’s been studying at a distance when Father Barkhorn offered him a position. He also learned of a “curse” that he could vaguely sense during that field study, and sometimes from Rean. He learns of the actual curse when studying texts from the church and connects it to Rean without telling anyone. He does talk about it in general with Rosine and Thomas.

He also joins Emma’s and Celine’s investigation on the fog (which has disappeared) and on the necklace that had fallen from Rean during the fight. They’re able to deduce that the talisman had been placed on Rean back in the Nord Field Study and that the witch from back then might be the culprit for both the talisman and the fog.

Still, they have to figure out what exactly this thing does… So they get the whole class to help. 

When Machias tries, he punches Jusis. Jusis puts it on just to get an excuse to punch Machias back, twice. Laura has to stop Fie and Gaius from murdering Alphonse when it’s they’re turn. They have to stop Laura from doing the same. Seeing all this chaos, the others don’t bother trying out the talisman. 

By then, they encounter Alphonse and they learn of all the accusations he’s been throwing at Rean. This is when they learn that Class VII’s existence is at jeopardy because of all the complaints being thrown at them. The rumors spiral further out of control and their reputation gets worse. Sara talks about the situation with them and tells them not to worry about it. Only thing they have to do is not actually kill anyone and keep their grade up.

Meanwhile, Gaius notes what the rest of the class is doing to help. 

• Elliot and Millium are on support/therapy duty. The whole class is exhausted after everything that happened, so they keep reminding them to take care of themselves.
• Laura and Fie are training with the class to get stronger. Since Rean is out of commission, Principal Vandyke gave her the keys to the Old Schoolhouse, so they sometimes go there just to train. 
• Gaius also talks to Jusis about if the conversation with Rufus was productive. Jusis shakes his head in frustration, saying that his brother is as dodgy as ever. 
• Jusis, Alisa, and Machias reach out to their respective relatives about Class VII’s future. 

Gaius and Emma also round back to what Celine witnessed during Rean and Crow’s fight. The double saber and the spell used to summon it… They confront Crow about the spell (not the weapon), but he says he just happened to be gambling with a witch, said witch lost and didn’t have money so she gave him this nifty spell instead. 

Emma is concerned about the idea of Vita being broke and resorting to gambling. Gaius doesn’t say anything, but he’s suspicious that Crow is in possession of such a strange weapon and was able to use it to beat Rean. Clearly, there’s something more going on with Crow, but he won’t press the issue because this is the least of their concerns at the moment. 

 

---

Chapter 28 - How to Not Give Up 101

[Scene 1]

Rean returns to Ymir and tries to figure out how to feel better. His parents help him out and make sure the house feels as safe and comfortable as possible. 

• Music therapy - His dad teaches him how to play the lute
• Pet therapy with the dog and horse lol
• Looks at the ENIGMA under his bed, wondering if he should call Osborne. He doesn’t. He also debates about calling Lianne with his ARCUS, but doesn’t.
• He returns to tapping out his family code to ground himself. 

 

[Scene 2]

Sara visits. Rean admits that it’s difficult trusting any of his thoughts. She gives him advice.

“I get it. I used to have trust issues, being a jaeger and all that. But, I did learn of a method to keep all of my connections in check, and I look at it whenever I doubt myself.” She takes out her old bracer notebook. She flips to the free space pages, which are covered in sticky notes. One of the notes say: Victor S. Arseid is hot.

Rean deadpans at her. “I don’t know if you’re making fun of me or not.”

Sara barks out a laugh. “Sorry, sorry! Wrong page. Here.” She flips to another page.

Toval has questionable tastes in women, but you can trust him to have your back.

Estelle and Joshua are lovebirds who’ve gone through some shit, but they have good hearts. You can trust them.

Scherazard can drink me under the table but there’s no one you can trust more while they’re drunk.

Agate is a punk, but a good punk. You can trust him.

There are many more with names and notes that say she can trust them. Sara takes out a new sticky note and writes on it. She hands it over to Rean when she’s done.

“If you can’t trust yourself right now, then trust these words.” 

Sara = BEST TEACHER EVER <3 Super trustworthy!

“Instructor Sara…”

Sara grins and hugs him around the shoulder. “Am I wrong though? It doesn’t just have to be about who you can trust though. You can keep note of your goals or what you like to do so you don’t accidentally give up on them, like fishing.”

Rean frowns. “Don’t you think it’s pathetic that I have to rely on sticky notes to remember who I am?”

“Do you think I’m pathetic? This is my idea after all.”

“No!”

“Then you’re not pathetic! End of conversation.” Sara huffs. 

She sticks around as Rean tries out this new method, giving him guidance whenever he’s doubtful. He writes in his book about all his friends, about how they’re good and what they can trust them with. He writes about how he misses fishing and riding on that orbal bike. He writes how he wants to be an intermediate Eight Leaves One Blade practitioner.

 

[Scene 3]

Some nobles visit the Scharzers and tells Teo to get rid of Rean because he’s tarnishing their name or whatever. Heated debate begins. Rean hears familiar words that drops his self esteem again. Someone new arrives and joins in the conversation.

“Now, now. I do believe it’s rather impolite for guests to needlessly harass their well-esteemed guests for something non-negotiable.”

It’s Rufus.

 

---

Chapter 30 - Gemini

[Scene 1 - Intro]

Rufus deescalates the situation between the rude nobles and the Schwarzers. The nobles leave. He talks to Teo a bit about falconry and then eases into the political state of the empire.

“Things are getting heated between the Noble Faction and the Reformist Faction. I predict it won’t be too soon before a conflict breaks. If that ever happens, I wonder where you will stand, Baron Schwarzer?”

“I’d rather stay out of such matters. The most I’ll do is provide a safe haven for those who want to escape all the fighting. Thankfully, I don’t see any advantage for either side to attack a town in the mountains.”

“I suppose so. Only an idiot would set fire to Erebonia’s favorite hot springs paradise.”

“What about you, Lord Rufus? In a hypothetical war like that, which side would you choose?”

“Isn’t it obvious? As a perfect son, I would choose the side of the one I call my father.”

“You are a scary man. I pray for all your enemies.”

 

[Scene 2 - Rean and Rufus talk]

Tea is served. Someone comes in and asks Teo for his attention. Teo leaves briefly with Lucia. Rufus asks to have a private conversation with Rean.

“I know you don’t have tea parties for no reason, Rufus. What do you really want to talk about?”

“I’m not lying. Jusis did ask me to check up on you. Not only that, but as one of the directors endorsing Class VII, it would be negligent of me to not see the center of all the chaos. It’s as they say… You really are a mess.”

“Will that be your public opinion of me? What about Class VII?”

“That’s just a project created by one of Prince Olivert’s whims. I could not care less about its conclusion, especially since it has little impact in the times to come. As for my opinion of you… Well, someone has to acquire that Ashen Knight, and it won’t be me. I would hate to disappoint a certain man of blood and iron.”

“Has he..?”

Rufus smiles. “You know he tells me nothing of the sort. But, I would like to think that I know what disappointment looks like on a father’s face.”

 

[Scene 3 - Party of Questionable Individuals]

Teo returns. He and Rufus continue chatting. Rean goes to the footbath to chill off. That’s when he’s approached by someone unexpected. 

It’s Vita, disguised as Misty. She asks him for a tour around Ymir. She also says that she’s looking for a flower called a Glacial Snapdragon that only blooms in these mountains in the summer (side quest time) and requests him to accompany her.

She drops a hint that she’s here to check on him on behalf of Lianne. That’s when Rufus joins them and then this weird trio dynamic is created.

Rufus smiles with no warmth. “Ah, about that, Misty, I promised his parents to keep an eye on him at all times.”

Rean, still bitter from their conversation, retorts, “Looks like you’re doing a great job so far, kicking me out of my house to talk to my dad in private.”

Misty— Vita nods along. “I can keep an eye on him. After all, it doesn’t take too long to find a flower.”

“Your argument is unconvincing, Misty. It does not sound like a wise decision for me to let a stranger watch over Rean as you search for this flower that can only be found in the Canyon full of monsters. Not to mention, it appears you have no means to fight, Misty. Can you even handle yourself in a fight?”

[Vita POV] 

Vita was staring at him with cold eyes. He was doing this on purpose. “I appreciate your consideration for my lack of strength, Rufus Albarea. I simply offered you an out because it would be quite a shame if you suddenly got frozen. I thought it might be best for a noble of your status to avoid that.”

Her magic was itching to make Albarea themed ice cubes.

Rufus shrugged. “I like to take pride in my endurance. I’ve visited Ymir in the most frightening of blizzards before, I’m sure I can manage. It would take some crazy witch to get me to freeze.”

She could arrange that.

They coldly smiled at each other.

“Um…” Rean cut in, uncomfortably looking between the two of them. “Do you know each other?”

Unfortunately yes, Vita said to herself. Rufus, despite how perfect of a noble he was supposed to be, failed to endear himself to her from their first encounter. But it would be best to keep this a secret—

“Ah yes,” Rufus chuckled lightly, as if remembering a fond memory. “You see, Misty has a beautiful pet bird. And I plucked one of its majestic feathers out of sheer curiosity.”

Oh, she wanted to kill him so badly.

“Griannos is still traumatized from that incident.”

“Oh? Would you like me to pay for its therapy?”

“How about I pluck off one of your own arms and we call it even?”

“Unfortunately, that is a request I must decline.”

Rean stepped away from them, unsettled by the growing tension between them. "You know, I could just go by myself to—"

"No," they both said, on the same page. 

[End Vita’s POV]

The two keep bickering, neither willing to lose this weird conversation. Rean hears a crunch of footsteps coming from behind and the sound of a lute playing. He looks behind and sees…

“Well, if it isn’t Lord Rufus Albarea, Radio talk show host Misty, and the leader of Class VII. I must say, this is quite the colorful combination I wasn’t expecting, but it looks thrilling!”

Olivier joins this maskless masquerade. He talks to Rean as well as puzzles out whatever the heck is going on with the other two adults. He talks about how he founded the class. Rean is embarrassed to hear that, especially when he messed up so badly. He doesn’t deserve the leader title either.

Olivier agrees that an ideal leader must never lose faith in himself. However, what he went through was entirely human and that it was fine. 

“It’s fine to fail as long as you strive to do better for your team next time. Change is beautiful. What will you change so that you can do better for your team next time?”

 

[Scene 4 - Glacial Snapdragon]

Upon Vita’s insistence and Olivier’s devil advocacy, this whole party trek through Ymir’s valley to find some flowers.

On the way, they come across Alberich. Vita pretends like she doesn’t know the guy. Rufus also feigns ignorance. Olivier is the only one who is completely oblivious of everyone’s secret identity, but even he has a hunch that all these people coming together is no coincidence. Still, he plays the lute and lightens the atmosphere. 

Unfortunately, a Cryptid appears (thanks to Alberich) and Rufus, Vita, and Olivier have to beat it up as they are the only ones equipped with weapons.

Rean feels awfully useless watching them fight while he does nothing. Also Alberich uses this chance to pummel his self esteem down. Alberich leaves by the time the cryptid is defeated. Rean is left shaking and says it’s because he’s cold. 

They keep walking until they find a small field of glacial snapdragons in a small cove. It’s night time.

“We came all this way to take a flower from its home. How cruel.”

“I’m not surprised you’re unable to appreciate a flower’s beauty, Lord Rufus,” Vita huffs. “This is a glacial snapdragon, they typically symbolize deceit. The moon also represents deceit. As the saying goes: When a deceitful thing gets exposed to a deceitful light, the truth warps into a giant… monster.”

She picks a glacial snapdragon up and pulls it away from the cove. She holds it up to the moonlight. In an instant, the pale blue flower melts and morphs into a pale blue sludge-like monster.

“Oh, that is… quite an intense message,” Olivier says. “But it does have its own beauty.”

“Yes, it’s a cautionary tale to not lose yourself to your lies. The world isn’t a kind place. Deceit is everywhere. You won’t be able to believe in yourself if you lose the ability to discern the truth.” Vita’s eyes pierce through Rean. 

“All this to turn a flower into a monster. Have you no shame?” Rufus sighs.

“Shut it. They turn back into flowers when not in the moonlight and they only bloom in the summer. This is mostly harmless.” With a smile that will convince no one of any innocence, she adds. “I just wanted to see it for myself. It would damage my pride as a talk show host to talk about something I have no proper knowledge of.”

They go back to Ymir. Vita and Olivier leave. Rufus stays behind for a little longer to say one thing to Rean.

“...Failing to change sometimes means becoming a worse version of yourself.”

Rean stares at him in confusion.

“Oh, don’t mind me. It’s just a riddle that someone mentioned to me, though I can’t understand why they felt the need to say it to me…”

 

[Scene 5 - Transition]

Basically Rean keeps working on himself. He follows all the advice that everyone’s given him. He does feel slightly more confident in himself. He does feel like he has been able to change for the better these past two weeks.

Now, it’s just time to prepare to go back to school.

Though he won’t go back to Thors immediately. He’ll be dropped off at Heimdallr and start right off on the first day of the field study. He’ll meet the others there. 

 

[Scene 6 - Departure to Heimdallr]

Rean sits on the train and takes note of a rowdy family. One of the children bumps into him.

The child's older sister, Juna, apologizes to him and talks about how her siblings are a little bit too excited to see this celebration since they don't know anything about borders. She mentions how they missed their stop and that their parents are waiting at Heimdallr. Juna wanted to prove what an independent person she was by getting them to Heimdallr by herself, but her siblings ended up getting her to fall asleep.

Rean is like: “But to get here from Crossbell, you would have to switch trains at Heimdallr's train station…”

Juna blushes so badly.

Juna's sister helpfully explains, “Oh, Heimdallr is the capital? Big sis Juna thought Ymir was the capital!”

Juna complains that they sound the same, in the sense that they don't sound like words.

Rean gives her a brief history lesson

Juna calls him a nerd.

They relax for the rest of the trip.

He closes his eyes and thinks about what he's gonna do when he meets with Class VII again. He meditates.

*BAM*

He almost has a heart attack. His eyes blow wide open, quickly scanning the cart to see a group of three people waving guns around.

"THIS IS AN ARMED ROBBERY!"

…So much for meditation.

 

---

Chapter 31 - Reunion Pandemonium

[Scene 1 - Train Robbery]

Because Rean doesn’t have a weapon (Elise still has it), he can’t really do anything that will involve fighting. While he is familiar with the weaponless form of the Eight Leaves One Blade, he is not testing his ability against guns.

Juna, however, is incredibly anxious since she has to protect her siblings. She has (new) tonfas and she sure as hell will use them if the robbers look at her siblings too long. 

Since this is a robbery, everyone is forced to give whatever valuables they have to the robbers. While Rean takes his wallet out, one of the robbers recognizes his last name belonging to nobles. They demand him to give them more money, but he’s not carrying much money at the moment. They think he’s lying (because what kind of noble only carries around pocket change) and threaten to shoot Juna’s siblings.

Now Juna is pissed because who are they to think they have the right to harm people? Who are they to threaten her siblings? So, she attacks them. Unfortunately, she’s very inexperienced with the tonfas (she’s recently become a fan of the SSS). She puts up a good enough struggle but she gets defeated and the robbers threaten to kill her unless Rean gives them a bunch of money. Her siblings cry.

Rean is feeling pretty darn useless at the moment. 

Thankfully, the RMP comes to the rescue and Claire arrests all the robbers (she gains Juna’s respect). 

Rean reflects. Could he have stopped the robbers before anyone was hurt? No. That was… a dumb question. He knew he could take them. From watching their scuffle with Juna, it was clear that they were also amateurs. At the right moment, he would’ve been able to handle them by himself. He thought having no weapon would be in everyone’s best interests, to keep everyone safe from him, but…

He apologizes to Juna for not helping out. She says it’s alright because everyone turned out fine. It wasn’t like she could expect a normal civilian to disarm all the robbers by himself. They part ways.

A normal civilian, huh…

Was Rean okay with simply being a normal civilian..?

 

[Scene 2 - Reunion with Class VII]

Reunion with Class VII. The classmates are ready to ambush him with a group hug but thye back off after seeing his clear discomfort. They do reassure him that they’re happy he’s back and clearly looks like he’s doing better. 

Sara explains that since it’s his first day back in school, he’s allowed to observe and readjust to the school/field study flow for the first day. By the final day, he’ll be evaluated on his ability to control himself and work well with his team. Also, Class VII’s critics are expecting perfect scores all around for all of them to justify the continued existence of Class VII. That means no fighting/disruptions amongst them, no failed side quests, no clients or witnesses complaining about them, else the class should be abolished. The Board of Directors have agreed on the terms.

Machias groans. “Nobles and their unrealistically high expectations.”

Rean feels all the pressure, because he’s shattered all his links within the class and he’s afraid of shattering them again. 

Millium, Machias, Laura, Fie, Elliot are in Rean’s group. Rean questions why he and Millium are the only ones who changed groups. Sara's excuse is to get Millium accustomed to everyone and Rean can help her out with that. The truth is, the classmates all asked Sara to be in a field study group with Rean every other field study.

Gaius pats him on the back. “No pressure. We have your back.”

They split into their groups. Rean’s group hears pedestrians mention how the Ashen Saint is here. Millium mentions how she worked with the Ashen Saint before and that she was even saved by them before.

Elliot mentions how he once got lost in the city and almost got kidnapped. He also has to deal with his conflict of wanting to pursue music. He asks the others what dreams they have, what plans they have after they graduate. Rean automatically thinks that he’ll just go back working for his dad full time, but for once he wonders what he could’ve been if his life was normal. 

Group A meets Elliot’s sister, Fiona. She actually remembers Rean and his mom (Elliot is silently signaling her to not talk about the topic but is missed). She asks how Kasia is doing and Rean admits that she died a long time ago. Fiona offers her condolences, but also asks if she was buried in Heimdallr cemetery. She would like to go there to pay her respects to the mother of the boy who became her brother’s friend (Elliot wrote a bunch of mushy letters about his friends lol). 

Rean has actually not visited her grave… ever. He’s been too ashamed to visit her. With all the stuff that’s happened between him and Ishmelga, she would not be proud of him, he thinks. Still, he doesn’t want to seem rude and offers to escort her to Kasia’s grave later. 

 

[Scene 3 - Reunion with Other Friends]

When the rest of Class VII is dungeoneering, Rean doesn’t go because he doesn’t have a weapon and still fears linking with them. He doesn’t want to burden them. So, he walks around Heimdallr’s plaza to calm himself and encourage himself to try linking when they’re in a safe setting. 

Here, Rean finally sees the Ashen Saint and the imposter is… short. He realizes it’s Altina. She mentions that she’s doing this to keep the Ashen Sain reputation alive. Since the Ashen Saint is a popular figure in Erebonia, it would do no good to have this persona completely disappear.

(He wonders how no one has realized the height difference between the original and the imposter.)

Altina mentions that she is annoyed because some person (Crow) keeps trying to give her spare change for no reason. She then spots someone in the distance and heads toward them. Rean follows, surprised Altina is heading toward Elise and… Patrick. Apparently Altina had accepted her request to look for a handkerchief she had dropped and was now returning it to her. Elise thanks her, then turns to Rean and envelops him in a hug.

“Rean! You look like you’re doing better! How are you feeling?”

“I’m…” Elise would be mad if he said the typical fine. “...still trying to change. I’m sorry I still have to make you wait…”

“It’s okay! Don’t push yourself too hard because I know it can be difficult.”

“Thanks. Anyway. What’s Patrick doing here?” 

A shiver runs up Patrick’s spine before he straightens up and tries to look cool. 

“Oh, he’s just trying to court me.”

“What.” Rean knows he has no right to judge, but like… Patrick? The same guy that ditched class just to offend Gaius, Elliot, and Machias just because of their origins? Really?

“Elise, are you… going to accept him?”

A devious glint sparks up in Elise’s eyes as she faces Patrick with an innocent grin. “If you manage to earn my brother’s approval, then I’ll agree to date you.”

Rean really, really wanted to be considerate. Who was he to judge the quality of a man when he himself was the worst? Still, Elise deserved a good man, and Patrick was… He didn’t know. He would have to assess later on how much Patrick had changed since then.

Change, huh.

This whole time, Altina has been sticking around in the background, analyzing Rean’s dynamic with the two. However, Crow suddenly appears and sees them all together. He makes a comment about how it’s nice to see Rean back and in one piece before he tries to give Altina the money back (mistaking her for the Ashen Saint), but she flees quickly.

 

[Scene 4 - Reunion with Old Friends]

They split up. To pass time, Rean walks around alone. He doesn’t expect to see McBurn casually waiting in line for some ice cream. What a sight. He tries to hide from the man but fails.

“Yo. Long time no see, Kid. ‘This how you normally look?” Referring to how Rean's physical appearance was white hair and red eyes during his whole stay with Lianne.

Rean almost has a heart attack. “Why are you here?” 

“Arionrhod told me to cool down so I’m here.” Getting ice cream that’s the same color as his hair, and now talking to Rean who’s ignoring him.

“Should you really be here?”

“Eh. Only people here who can recognize me are the Azure Kid and the homunculus. It’s not a problem.”

“Azure kid..?”

McBurn shrugs. “How about you? I can see that, after a decade, you’re still weak as hell.” He snaps a finger and holds a tiny ember in the palm of his hand. Rean doesn’t flinch. “But better, I guess.”

Then McBurn proceeds to have multiple flashbacks of him trying to deal with/raise Rean whenever Lianne’s busy (she literally has no one else to turn to omg). His opinion: It wasn’t… boring.

 

[Flashback #1]

McBurn gets a manual for raising children. When he’s trying to focus on reading, a bunch of monsters stir for some reason. He walks up to them and yells, “Shut up! Can’t you tell I’m busy babysitting a kid?! I even got a pair of reading glasses for this shit, so if you see these glasses on my face, it means shut up! Got it?”

The monsters cower. McBurn looks to his hand which is on fire. This same hand is holding the manual.

“Oh crap.”

 

[Flashback #2]

McBurn reads a section where human kids need to socialize. He goes to Loewe and asks for a battle while the kids (Rean and Joshua) have a playdate or something. 

“What the hell, Campanella? What are you doing there?” McBurn looked at how the green-haired brat joined where the kids were at.

“You said the kids can watch over here, didn’t you? Do I not qualify as a kid?”

“No.” Both McBurn and Loewe deadpanned. 

“Aw,” Campanella fake whined, obvious by how he was still smiling. “Can I still watch?”

“Whatever,” McBurn huffed, summoning his sword as his power leaked out. “Just keep out of the way and don’t scare the kid.”

“Kids,” Loewe corrected him.

He waved him off nonchalantly. “Yeah whatever.”

“Hmmm…” Campanella turned his gaze from the intensity that was swirling between the strongest enforcers and to the kids. “Do you mind if I show them my shiny knife collection?”

Doing a show and tell of a knife collection to human kids sounded… not unreasonable. At least, the manual didn’t say anything about not doing that.

(To be fair, McBurn was only in chapter five of the damned thing, which wasn't much because the first four chapters were burnt to a crisp.)

“Sure.” Meanwhile Loewe nodded. See, if Loewe had no protests about this, then it was probably fine.

(Unless they were all nutjobs)

McBurn has the time of his life until Loewe stops and points at the kids. 

“He’s shaking.”

He looks over to Rean and notes that he is indeed shaking. And struggling to breathe.

“Oh crap.”

McBurn calms him down, much to Loewe and Campanella’s surprise, and decides to dip. “Oh well, I guess I gotta go. Let’s fight next time, Loewe.”

[End flashback]

 

“Oh yeah,” McBurn droned, lazily taking a lick at his cotton candy-colored ice cream. “There was also that time when you begged me to show you Angbar.”

Rean actually remembered that moment, much to his absolute horror. “I did not beg,” he weakly countered, knowing full well that he was going to be subjected to yet another walk down memory lane with this insane, off-duty enforcer.

“Uh, yeah you did, kid. You were staring. That was basically your language for begging back then.”

 

[Flashback #3]:

McBurn pulled out Angbar. He could feel those dull, red eyes follow the movements of his sword with great interest. It was pretty obvious because the usually stoic kid was actually leaning forward, slightly gaping at the weapon like it was catnip for him. 

“What’s that? You want to hold it?”

A slight nod. Geez, that was more response than he usually got from the kid on a normal day.

Hm… Was it a good idea to let some traumatized 8-year old human kid borrow his demonic sword? It wasn’t like the How to Decently Babysit a Child manual that Arianrhod gave him said anything about not letting a kid get his hands on a demonic sword. 

“I dunno, this thing is kinda cursed. If some normal person held this, they’d probably disintegrate into an ash pile, at least that’s what the Grandmaster told me.” McBurn held his sword up, parallel to the ground, giving it a good look-over. Damn, he didn’t even do any maintenance on this thing and it still looked awesome. Angbar was the absolute best. 

Nonchalantly, he glanced back at the kid. “You still want to hold it?”

Another nod.

Hm…

For once, McBurn succumbed to his better judgment and pulled Angbar back into its dimensional pocket space. “Eh, it might be too heavy for you,” was his reasoning. 

Casually, he shoved his hands in his pockets, thinking about what to do next. The kid was finally interested in something for once; it’d be a damn shame to not spoil him this time. “Maybe we should find a normal sword first. I’m sure there’s one in some random pile of corpses on this island.”

True to his guess, they found a pile of dead corpses and a sword lying somewhere under them. 

“Perfect.”

The moment Rean gets his hands on that sword, he be zoomin.

“Oh crap,” McBurn whistled.

[End flashback]

 

Just as McBurn wraps up his last flashback, Estelle, Renne, and Joshua appear (they’re all eating ice cream). They have decided to visit Heimdallr after the conversation with Sara. While Bracers are very limited in how much they can operate in the Empire, that doesn’t mean they can’t have vacation here during one of the nation’s holidays. 

“Of all the faces I’d think I’d see today, I never thought I would see you, McBurn,” Joshua greets the enforcer, raising a curious eyebrow at the man. 

“Wait, McBurn?” Estelle jerks up, accidentally smearing ice cream over her mouth. “Like the McBurn who’s stronger than Loewe? That McBurn?!”

McBurn and Renne chuckle at Estelle’s flabbergasted response. 

“Long time no see, Renne, Joshua. And I’m guessing the lady here is Estelle Bright, the one who’s been adopting my former colleagues.”

Estelle crosses her arms and huffs. “You better not be thinking about taking them back!”

“Ha! Someone’s feisty! I wonder how Cassius Bright’s daughter would hold up in a fight. Actually, you did fight Loewe… Maybe you would prove to be a challenge…”

"You said you weren't here to cause trouble," Rean sighed, forcing himself to relax after seeing some rather unexpected faces. Honestly, after meeting Altina and McBurn here, he doubted he could be surprised anymore by whoever else would show up today.

"No, I said I was off duty. There's a difference, Kid."

"And who's this..?" Estelle leaned a little closer, staring at Rean with a frown. "Don't tell me he's another Enforcer…"

"Actually, he's an Anguis," Renne smoothly lied, clearly relishing the surprised squawk that came from Estelle.

"AN ANGUIS?! But he looks as old as us— wait, actually, if Campanella is a thing, then I guess I shouldn't be surprised."

"Renne is messing with you, Estelle," Joshua fondly shook his head before turning to face Rean. "You're… the boy McBurn used to take care of back then, right? I almost didn't recognize you."

Rean awkwardly chuckled. Was it alright to be talking about this stuff in broad daylight in public? It was so bizarre that none of these people were concerned about talking about this as if it was just the weather.

"Yeah… I am. Glad to see that you're doing better, Joshua."

"Oh, this is priceless!" Renne cackled. "McBurn babysat a boy and the boy didn't grow up to become a disaster? I'm actually impressed."

"Right? I think I'm actually feeling a little proud."

Ignoring the two, Joshua said, "Good to see you're doing better as well, uh… Sorry, I don't think I ever got your name. McBurn always called you Kid."

And it wasn't like Rean had been aware of much back then to say his own name.

"That's fine. My name is Rean."

"Oh, you're Rean Schwarzer?" Estelle perked up, her ice cream now fully finished. "Sara told us about how she thought you were part of Ouroboros! Joshua didn’t recognize you, so he said no though.”

Of course Sara contacted her vast network of connections about him.

“Well, well, well,” A new voice popped up behind him. “Look at what we have here, Rean.”

Speak of the devil. Oh well, it was better to get this clear now while the others could verify it instead of having Instructor Sara give anyone else the wrong idea. 

McBurn cracked his knuckles. “Oh, even the Purple Lightning is here? Man, it’s really getting difficult to not fight, you know?”

“This isn’t what it looks like,” Rean shook his head, ignoring McBurn’s comment. “I’m not an Enforcer or an Anguis. I’m not obligated to help Ouroboros in any shape or form, nor do I have any intentions to do so.”

“Really?” Sara deadpanned, crossing her arms and sounding so unconvinced. “So Ouroboros just decided to take care of a kid and not use them like they did to Joshua and Renne?”

“The Kid’s telling the truth, Purple Lightning. He was under special circumstances.”

“And here I thought all folks at Ouroboros were their own brand of special. What does it take for a typical other kid to be more special?”

Oh no.

McBurn shrugged, scratching the back of his neck casually. “Being the godson of Arianrhod.”

Aidios, Rean wanted to melt into a puddle right then and there. Was this how all his secrets are going to be exposed? By an off-duty Enforcer coping with his lack of fighting by talking a bit too much?

“Oh my,” Renne covered her mouth, feigning shock but she was actually smirking behind her hand. “Even I wasn’t expecting that.”

“There’s no need to worry, Sara,” Joshua reassured the teacher. “From what I recall, Arianrhod is a very kind woman. The only reason she would let an Enforcer babysit any child would be if she felt like there was no other option.”

From then, Rean could feel a sharp amber gaze pierce into his back. Joshua must’ve had suspicions that Rean had been burdened by more than just trauma when they had originally met.

“Okay, but isn’t McBurn a demon or something? Who in their right mind would let a demon babysit a kid?!”

“Hey, that’s rude,” McBurn chuckled. “But yeah, I’d see your point if the Kid was just a kid. But in this case, who better than a demon to babysit a—”

“Okay that’s enough!” Rean hastily interrupted him, sending a strong glare at the Enforcer. Honestly, he shouldn’t have expected McBurn to comply with his wish, considering Rean had literally no power to oppose him, but the man surprisingly backed off. 

“Alright, alright. I’ll stop. I need to blow off some steam anyway. See all of you later, probably.” 

McBurn then teleported away. Meanwhile, Sara was just staring at Rean, as if looking at him hard enough would dig up more secrets. Thankfully, a new face came up to approach them.

“Joshua, Estelle and Renne! Long time no see!”

“Olivier?! You’re here too?” Estelle exclaimed.

“Right, it’s a shock to myself, too. It’s as if I live here or something.”

Estelle playfully smacked him on the shoulder. “Oh shut up.”

Anyway, they have their whole reunion. Sara told Rean it's time to get back to work (his classmates have finished exploring the sewers).

Watching them leave, Renne shook her head. “Sheesh though, with all of us coincidentally meeting up here, you can’t help but wonder if something bad is going to happen.”

“Renne, don’t jinx it! I was hoping to have a peaceful vacation for once!”

“Well, it’s not like you would use your vacation time well, Estelle, considering you still freeze up when Joshua’s trying to kiss you.”

Olivier laughed. “Estelle, if you don't take this chance, then I will. It's been a while since Joshua and I—”

“Did you forget I have a very BIG stick, Olivier?!”

 

[Scene 5 - Reunion with Her]

Class VII returns to their respective inns. Rean remembers his agreement with Fiona to visit the cemetery and tells his classmates to go ahead while he meets up with Fiona. The class looks reluctant. 

Elliot requests to join him because he technically knew her too. Rean doesn’t refuse him. As a trio, they buy flowers and make their way to the graveyard. They mention the Orbal Blackout that happened over a decade ago in Heimdallr, when Rean and Elliot were almost kidnapped. They compare it to the Orbal Shutdown Phenomenon that happened not too long ago in Liberl. 

They arrive at the cemetery and see Kasia’s grave. He notes how her maiden name is inscribed on the grave instead of “Kasia Osborne” to hide her connection with his dad. He also notices that the grave is the least clean/maintained. How tragic that his old family is supposed to pretend that they never existed. 

Seeing her grave brings to surface many emotions he’s been suppressing since she died. He asks to be given a moment of privacy. They understand and leave. 

He kneels down in front of the grave, placing the flowers down. His heart is pounding. His body is shaking. He's all alone. It's all silent here.

But, he can hear her voice. He can imagine exactly what she would say if she was here.

“How have you been, Rean?”

“I'm doing better, I guess. I'm alive at least, thanks to my friends… Thanks to you.” He bites his lip. “I—”

His vision blurs. His body shakes. The tears are already building up behind his eyes. 

“I wish Dad had saved you instead of me. You would've known what to do. You wouldn't have fallen and failed as badly as I have. You wouldn't have left him to fight alone..!”

Drops of water hit the ground. It starts to drizzle. He squeezes his eyes closed. His fingers dig into his legs. 

“If I was forced to live through that day again, I would choose your life over mine.”

He tries to control his breathing.

"I haven't done much good with my life. All I've done is worry everyone and give them more trouble. I'm… really pathetic.”

He sighs.

“Even still… Would you be… proud of me?”

 

*knock* *thud* … *knock* *thud* *knock* *knock* … *knock* *thud* *thud* … *knock* *thud* … *thud* *knock* *thud* *thud* … *knock* *knock* *knock*

 

Two hands rest on the sides of his head, thumbs wiping his tears away.

 

| Always. |

 

His eyes snap open. There's someone in front of him, sitting on his mom's grave. Connected to a shadowy robe, two pearly, translucent arms are reaching out to his face. The rest of the body is covered, except for the bottom of its head.

It's the ghost. It's smiling.

The ghost tilts its head and the hood falls off.

His breath is taken away. There isn't a moment to question how this is possible. His arms twitch, and his hand reaches out to her.

 

| I love you. |

 

In one blink, the ghost is gone. His arm falls uselessly to his side.

“I miss you,” he whispers.

He's about to leave, but he sees something left behind on the grave. It's a small picture.

A picture of him as a kid, being held up and adored by his mom and dad.

It happens to fit exactly inside his locket.

This is a family that isn't supposed to have any proof of existence anymore. But, Rean decides to keep it inside his locket instead of burning it up.

 

---

*Chapter 32 -  Liminal Void

[Scene 1 - Kasia’s Gift]

Kasia loved many things. Before she met Giliath Osborne and gave birth to Rean, one of the things she loved most were stories. Particularly, the story of Erebonia—its history—fascinated her. Without considering Dreichels and the War of the Lions, the events that shaped this nation into what it was today seemed like… a fairy tale. In fact, many history textbooks today regarded such events as mere folk tales, preferring to focus on the War of the Lions and onwards. 

She also found something called a Black Record that lends more evidence to the bizarre tales that helped build the Empire.

If someone dared to draw knight-shaped robots, anyone would pass it off as a myth. Kasia was one of those people, but that didn’t stop her from doing more research into it. Where did the myth originate from? Why have multiple records mentioned the use of these “Great Knights” during times of great strife? It was all so peculiar, so stimulating to her endlessly curious brain.

The desire to answer these questions drove Kasia to spend countless hours in libraries, trying to find more information. She even visited the Nord Highlands and Bryonia island to check out ancient sites and the giants who were said to be connected to these Great Knights. 

During these adventures, she brought Giliath along too, hoping to create some fun memories and maybe (finally) get through that dense skull of his. The only thing achieved was Giliath getting some strange headaches…

In the end, Kasia didn’t learn much. Instead, she only gained more questions. The topic that drew her attention the most, however, was the “Nameless One.” How could a supposed Holy Beast, a creature with a promise with Aidios herself, lose its name? Was it because it was simply forgotten by the long passage of time? Or was there a specific reason why every mention of its name was censored in every record? And what did it have to do with Erebonia’s situation 900 years ago?

She would’ve loved to continue searching for the answers, but then she finally married Gilliath and—

“Rean, what are you doing here?” Her husband asked when he opened their bedroom door at night and found the five year-old child sitting beside it with his trusty lantern and a wooden spoon.

—They had a beloved son who was so adorable and raising him was more important than finding a truth she may never find. 

Rean blushed, his little fingers twiddling with the wooden spoon in embarrassment. “Oh, um… For some reason I kept thinking that some monsters were going to attack our house.” His tiny fists clenched as a spark of determination sparked through his bright eyes. “So, I decided to camp out here to protect you guys in your sleep! Just in case.”

“With a wooden spoon?” Gilliath chuckled, swooping the boy and his belongings into his arms. 

Rean didn’t protest as he happily grabbed the man’s shoulders and looked over to see Kasia, perfectly relaxed and safe on the big bed. “Mom said you used to beat up bullies with a spoon. I can do the same with some monsters!”

Kasia let out soft laughter under her breath as her husband brought their son to her. Immediately, she wrapped her arms around Rean and placed a gentle kiss on his head. “Our knight in shining armor.” 

Then, Gilliath affectionately patted Rean’s head and let out a low sigh. “Alright, before your old man teaches you the art of spoonsmanship, how about warning us if you actually decide to bring a spoon to a monster fight?”

Rean pouted. It was unintentionally too cute. “But you both need your sleep!”

“As do you,” she smiled, placing him at the center of the bed, still wrapped in her hug.

Rean tried to squirm in her grip while waving his spoon around in protest. “What? Noooooooooo!”

The opposite side of the bed dipped, where Gilliath had climbed on. Inevitably, he brought his wife and child into his warm embrace, dooming Rean to sleep in their bed instead of the hallway tonight.

…

When she married Giliath and had a child, she knew her chances of finding the answers were slim to none. She could no longer live solely to serve her own curiosity because she had a family to take care of now. However, she also didn’t want all the knowledge she gained to be used for nothing. So, using her story-telling skills, she transformed all her knowledge into something more kid-friendly, yet more specific than the other common folk tales. She would tell parts of this story to Rean every night until he fell asleep.

“What’s the Nameless One’s name?” her son asked, on the verge of sleep but his eyes were still brimming with interest. This was a question he asked often, most interested in the mystery of one who could have no name. 

Kasia gently chuckled as she ran her fingers through Rean’s hair. “He’s called the Nameless One because he has no name.”

“Nuh-uh!” Rean pouted, adorably hugging the blanket tighter to his chest. “How come Roselia has a name but he doesn’t? They’re both Holy Beasts, right? Why wouldn’t they both have names?”

“It’s certainly a mystery, isn’t it?”

“Or maybe…” the child’s voice grew softer, becoming closer to the embrace of sleep. “Maybe people just don’t know how to pronounce his name? Maybe they call him Nameless ‘cuz it’s easier than saying his real name…”

That answer was as logical as any child could be; meaning, no one would take the argument seriously. However, watching Rean fall asleep with a satisfied smirk on his face, Kasia got an idea.

The next week, Giliath was home from work, and they all went on a little fishing trip. The parents casted their lines into the lake while Rean watched the fishes swim around, great interest swirling in his wide, lilac eyes. 

Kasia wasn’t very lucky; barely any fish swam near her bait. Meanwhile, Giliath seemed to be having the time of his life, catching a fish every couple of minutes. 

No, she was not childishly pouting at the man in jealousy. 

She turned to Rean, a smile slowly curled her lips up. Well, there was no time like the unlucky present to try out her idea. 

"Sweetheart," Kasia beckoned her son toward her. He leaned closer, eyebrows pinched in curiosity. "I found out how to pronounce Nameless' name."

"Really!?"

Kasia nodded, though it was a lie. She made it up, but she wanted to satisfy her child’s curiosity for a bit. “Listen carefully.” She raised her hand above the side of the boat they were sitting in. Gently, she hit her knuckles against the surface a few times, creating a strange pattern of noises. 

*thud* *knock* ... *knock* *thud* ... *thud* *thud* … *knock*

Both her loved ones stared at her in confusion. Chuckling softly to herself, she elaborated, “Humans can’t say the Nameless One’s name with their mouths, so the Nameless One created a code for humans to use to ‘say’ its name.”

“A code?” Rean tilted his head, trying to process her words. In a few moments, his eyes shone even brighter in excitement. “Wait, you mean people can talk with their hands and say Nameless’ true name?”

“Yes.”

“That’s so cool! Teach me! Teach me!” He was already wrapping his arms around her, stubbornly squishing himself against her side and giving her irresistible puppy-dog-eyes until she promised she would teach him. 

Undoubtedly, if Rean learned this code, he would figure out that Kasia just created a series of unique sounds that corresponded with each letter of the alphabet. The Nameless One was still without a name in this code. 

Oh well. Kasia was not one to deny her son anything, especially something as harmless as this. To see him so happy… that was all she needed. 

Perhaps one day, when he was all grown up, they could all go on an adventure together to truly find the Nameless One’s name. For now, however, they could pretend to have the answer.

“Okay, I’ll teach you Nameless’ Code.”

 

[Scene 2 - Reconnecting a Disconnect]

Rean finds himself using the code to calm himself down after testing out his combat link with Elliot. Because he still does not believe himself worthy of their friendship, he subconsciously severs the link. Even after convincing himself that he needs to do this or else the class fails, the link is never stable enough to last more than a minute.

Thankfully there are no terrible side effects this time.

Rean starts feeling more hopeless when multiple attempts to link with everyone in his group fails.

Millium pats him on the back. “Don't you worry! If all else fails, then I'll just tell Gramps to scare all those nobles! They'll be too preoccupied with that and forget about destroying our class!”

Laura sweat drops. “I doubt someone as busy as the Chancellor himself has the time or the need to do something like that. If anything, that will only push for more conflict between the Noble and Reformist factions…”

“Ohhh… But then, what about my mission? Can't really do that if we're separated into classes based on who's a noble and who's a commoner…”

Machias crosses his arms. “What even is your mission anyway?”

“Oops! Sorry, but that's top secret!” she laughs. “But anyway, you got this, Rean! We're all cheering for you!”

 

[Scene 3 - To Grasp a Change]

They do all their quests. Rean still hasn't made much progress. They get invited to meet with Prince Olivert and Princess Alfin. 

The meeting is basically the same, except that Musse introduces herself too, tagging along with Elise.

“Is this Elise’s highly esteemed big brother that I've heard so much about? He's even more dashing in person!”

“Musse!”

Rean feels threatened by her. He doesn't know if it's because of the blatant infatuation or because there's something stewing behind those sharp, calculating eyes.

Rean and Elise have a private conversation afterwards.

He looks downcast. “A little over two weeks have passed, and I still haven't accomplished anything. I can't establish a stable link. I can't fight. I still can't even smile. I'm… nothing.”

Elise shakes her head. “You’re not nothing, Rean. You’re focusing only on the things that you can’t do that you’re blind to what you can do.”

“Like what?”

“You’re living. You’re trying. You’re already more than when I saw you in the hospital. There's only one thing more I could ask of you.”

Rean looks at her in confusion. Wordlessly, Elise holds her hand out. Though hesitant, he reaches out and takes her hand.

Elise gives him his tachi back.

Rean holds his weapon, in awe of himself. He doesn’t feel like hurting himself. 

“I trust you,” Elise says. 

 

[Scene 4 - A Meeting Veiled by the Moonlight]

Crow has a meeting with the ILF. The plan is to kidnap Alfin and attack the major three locations where festivities are happening (and where each member of Royalty are gathering a.k.a. Olivert, Cedric, and Alfin).

He emphasizes that their goal is to make their existence public to the world. There's no expectation to do real damage, but to make enough of an upheaval that will make the public see them as a threat to the government.

Gideon brings up that his contact (Alberich) has given him a device that basically replicates the same function as the Demonic Flute that S had stolen and given to the Church. Instead of being near monsters, however, this device can summon a monster from wherever, whenever. As a bonus, he also received a device that can shut down anything and everything powered by orbal energy, similar to another artifact that had been used in Liberl. 

Crow is suspicious about this contact and about how they’re capable of replicating so-called “pre-mature gifts from the goddess.” However, he won’t complain about extra indirect support since S is gone. It also doesn’t help that he’s reluctant to use his double saber, since he doesn’t know how much Rean remembers from their fight. Oh well, they’re already guaranteed a spot in Gehenna, might as well go all in.

 

---

Chapter 33 - Breaking the Blackout

[Scene 1 - Build Up]

Sara reveals that the ILF will make their move and Class VII is going to help as festival security detail. Rean’s group will be covering Crystal Garden in Mater Park and the area around, (Alfin and Elise will be attending the garden party. Oh, Patrick is there too.)

The group does their rounds. They hear about how the Liberl group are hanging around with Prince Olivert. Rean practices his combat link with the others. It still feels fragile.

They pass by the Ashen Saint (who is just then parting ways with Juna and her family). Literally everyone in the group (Elliot, Machias, Laura, Millium, and even Fie) recount a time where they were helped out by the Ashen Saint some time in the last two years. They all express their thanks.

Even behind the mask, Rean can see that Altina is malfunctioning with their display of gratitude, even though it wasn’t her that did anything. Rean himself is fighting off a blush, because they’re really thanking him for things he barely remembers.

Looking at him, Altina mutters, “I don’t know how you do this all the time.”

Rean looks back in confusion, but he doesn’t get a chance to say anything because Altina turns away and leaves. They continue doing their rounds.

 

[Scene 2 - Chaos]

They meet up with Towa, Angeleca, and Crow. They each mention what they’re up to today. It’s then that they see the water fountains grow more intense, as if the water pressure is rising. Just then, the fountains explode from pressure. They realize it’s a terrorist attack. The upperclassmen set out to evacuate the civilians. Rean’s group goes back to Mater Park. 

They see weird monsters on the way, and the guards are having trouble piercing through their crystal-like skin with their guns. Laura and Elliot stick behind to help out quickly. 

They reach the garden. Only Alfin is captured. Patrick manages to keep Elise from getting kidnapped. Machias’ dad is wounded. Gideon summons some monsters and leaves behind a couple of ILF soldiers to deal with Rean’s group.

Machias is enraged that his dad is hurt. Rean, Fie, Machias, and Millium fight. Rean gets into the flow of the fight and he feels more clear than ever, albeit a little rusty. His sword feels comfortable in his grip. He doesn't burden his friends.

Fie whistles good teamwork as they kill one of the monsters, but then their link is severed. Just as Rean is about to lose hope in his ability to use the ARCUS link with his friends, Millium panics.

“Lammy, what's happening?!”

It looks like Lammy is shutting down. Her and Machias’ combat link have also been severed.

The ILF soldiers smirk. Rean sees all the orbal lights flicker off in the garden. Reminiscent to that blackout in Heimdallr many years ago, he figures out what's going on.

“Orbal shutdown…” he gasps.

“Bingo! Looks like someone did their studies.” The ILF member taunts. “Now be a good boy and give up.”

Fie and Rean help block the gunfire from hitting Machias and Millium. 

Millium, undeterred, yells, “I may not have Lammy at the moment, but I have cooked a whooooole lot of food that can do some major damage!”

Rean realizes that Laura will have no backup since Elliot won't be able to use his Orbal wand or orbments. He debates if maybe he should go back to grab them so they can all regroup. Just as he makes a decision, he sees Elise and Patrick sneaking behind the ILF and the monsters, presumably to chase after Gideon and Alfin.

“Rean, go!” Fie yells, reading his mind. “I believe Laura will be able to handle herself! Believe in her too!”

“And believe in us! We got this!” Machias adds. “Go after them!”

Rean can't help but wonder, Do you believe in me to go on my own?

The ILF notice Elise and Patrick and are about to attack them. Fie and Machias shoot at them, diverting their attention. Rean takes this chance to follow Elise and Patrick into the catacombs.

 

[Scene 3 - Dungeon Exploration]

Rean doesn't realize how angry he is until he groups up with the two and yells at Elise.

“What were you thinking?! Do you know how reckless this is?!”

“I can't just sit back, knowing that Alfin is getting farther and farther away from us! I know I can't do much, but I can at least stall for some time for everyone else to catch up!”

“You could get hurt!”

“That hasn't stopped you before, Rean! You always do this, so you can't tell me I can't do the same! I don't mind getting hurt as long as I do everything in my power to save her highness!”

Although frustrated, Rean can't think of anything else to say without sounding more like a hypocrite. 

“Stay in the back. You'll be our support,” he eventually says before turning to glare at Patrick. “Protect her with your life.”

“Rean!” Elise whines.

Patrick does a shaky salute. His voice is a squeak. “Aye, sir!”

They trek through the catacombs. The fights with the monsters aren't back, Rean just treats them as warm up. He does note that Elise is somewhat out of breath and Patrick is struggling to keep up.

“Even without that creepy power, you're this strong, Schwarzer?! What in Gehenna are you eating?”

“Not strong enough to control it though…”

“I don't intend to cheer you up or anything, but we're literally teenagers. Being in a military academy, we're already above average as it is…”

“Still… Terrorists won’t care if we’re teenagers or not.”

Patrick huffs. “I think I’m more scared of that power of yours than some pathetic terrorists… You’re not planning on using that again, are you?”

“I don’t intend to…”

“You don’t sound so certain.” 

Elise grabs his hand. “Rean, promise you won’t resort to that power! I don’t want to see you lose control again when you’re still building yourself back up again. I’m going to be strong enough so that you won’t have to use it, so… No matter what happens, please hold out on it until reinforcements arrive.” 

Rean squeezes her hand back. “...Okay…”

 

[Scene 4 - Fight with G]

They make it to the catacomb’s depths. Gideon summons a monster or reanimates the dragon with the pseudo-artifact. They struggle with it, being very limited in what they can do. Rean feels a crushing numbness that comes whenever he realizes he’s too weak. He debates on whether or not to grasp his power even though he knows he’s not ready, but Elise begs him to wait for his friends. 

Rean reluctantly listens and stays on the defense for the rest of the fight. Fatigue wears him down and he eventually slips up. He gets hit by the monster’s tail and crashes into some rocks. It dazes him, and it leaves him unprepared for when the dragon’s foot moves in an attempt to squash him. 

As he is, he knows he can’t dodge without some help. The curse within him calls out to him. But…

Reach out.

He hears Elise’s and Patricks screams for him to move. 

Reach out!

“REAN!”

REACH OUT!

The dragon’s foot descends. A loud snap reverberates in the air. Rean is still on the floor. In front of him, blocking the attack, is Laura. A warm link is safely established between them. 

She grins. “Thank you for believing in us, Rean.”

The rest of their group arrives. With the establishment of a new link, it’s clear that whatever’s been shutting down all the orbal power has been deactivated. They link up and fight with all they have against the dragon skeleton. 

They beat the monster and Rean is able to catch up to G and slice the pseudo-artifact in half. Seeing it, he’s reminded of Alberich’s technology again. It makes him wonder why Alberich is getting himself involved with terrorists. He’s aware that the gnome has a tendency to test out his devices, but he’s giving them to a group that wants to kill Chancellor Osborne.

It seems counter-intuitive. At the same time, Alberich is arrogant enough to believe that no one, not even with the help of his technology, is capable of defeating Ishmelga’s chosen. Plus, could his dad even die? He doesn’t have a heart, so technically… he wouldn’t be killed by normal means… Right?

The others rescue Alfin. They surround G and tell him to surrender. This is when “C” and V arrive and stop them. They formally announce themselves as the Imperial Liberation Front and leave. They’ve accomplished their goal.

Rean collapses, physically and mentally exhausted from everything going on. Laura and Machias assist him as they leave the catacombs. 

“Hey, guys?” Rean talks even though everyone’s telling him to rest. “Thank you for being there for me.”

Everyone smiles.

 

[Scene 5 - Reunion with Him]

Sara congratulates them all for contributing so much to thwart the terrorists’ plans. She runs down all the damage from the plot.  Due to the Orbal shutdown, several orbal cars and buses have crashed and led to many going to hospitals for injuries. Heimdallr’s water system is also undergoing maintenance, so most of the city’s water supply is not accessible for a while. But, what really matters most are everyone’s lives, and it looks like no one has been killed or kidnapped. 

Sara also says, “Your scores for this field study are also stellar and it should get those pesky nobles off their back for the time being. Especially since…” Dramatic pause. “We’ll be getting a direct audience with the Emperor and the Chancellor to thank you for your efforts!”

Rean’s blood runs cold.

He and Elliot have a private chat before they depart. Rean tells him the truth that his dad has saved him many times and he’s scared of meeting him after committing suicide… again. Elliot reassures him that a father’s love does not disappear after a mistake… or many mistakes for that matter. (Though Elliot is still struggling to believe this as well). 

“That’s the thing. He won’t hate me. But he will be… disappointed.”

“What’s done is done. Though if he’s like any of us, he’ll just be happy that you’re still alive.”

They go to Valflame Palace. Emperor Eugent, the rest of the royal family, and Giliath Osborne give their thanks to them. 

“With the Royal Family’s recognition, only few would dare to question the integrity of Class VII’s structure. It would be the same few who resist rebuilding old traditions, but resistance like that is normal in the face of change. Don’t let it hinder you.”

While the whole conversation is happening, Rean is hyperfixated in the subtle sway of Osborne’s hand. It’s barely noticeable unless you know what you’re looking for.

| I’m glad you’re alive. |

That’s all Osborne says. The conversation ends. They leave. They get on the train back to Trista. When his seatmates fall asleep (exhausted from this whole day), Rean lets the tears flow.

 

---

Chapter 34 - A World Built on Our Choices

[Scene 1 - Ignite]

Crow officially transfers into Class VII. It’s because Gideon starts getting an obsession with Class VII for always ruining their plans. Crow reassures him by saying that he’ll keep on closer eye on them (by joining the class). It also gives him more flexibility, because he caught a peek on their future field studies and… What a coincidence, the ILF has plans in each of those locations at those exact times.

He wonders if Aidios has a hand to play here, especially since he’s 100% certain that Rean’s the Ashen Awakener for the Divine Knight at the schoolhouse. It’s like their predestined rivalry is being set up or something. 

Speaking of Rean, Crow thinks it’s so weird to see him alive. He feels like everything that happened at the old schoolhouse was a dream because there was no way he should’ve been able to stop Rean with his words. There was no way Rean would’ve remembered his words when he was alone and completely capable of killing himself. 

It was strange that someone actually listened to him. 

Crow was no hero, but he did save a life. He wanted to see the life he saved.

It was curious how someone standing on the precipice of hopelessness by the tips of his toes was able to step back and continue on with his normal routine. It was also interesting to see someone like that actually try to move forward. As much as he liked to hear people moving forward relentlessly, he never really saw it. 

It was quite the opposite of Crow, who jumped off the cliff and took a swan dive into Cayenne and Vita’s agendas.

He would be a liar if Rean’s path wasn’t intriguing to him. Seeing his classmates swarm him with eagerness and boundless playfulness, he wondered what the world would be like if Rean successfully died. What would the world look like? 

“Millium, what are you trying to do with the fuse box?” Rean asks.

“Fuse box? What does that do?”

Jusis sighs. “It basically controls the electricity in the building.”

Millium tilts her head as a grin blossoms on her face. “So, you’re telling me, I have our whole dorm’s electricity in my hands?”

“MILLIUM!”

All the lights go out. Manic laughter erupts through the yelling.

It probably wouldn’t look like this. Crow would be lying if he said he didn’t prefer the world like this: Peaceful and without a care for the future. What a shame it was that he would be taking this world away from them in a few months time. 

He also asks Rean about what he remembers from their fight. Rean explains that he doesn’t remember anything significant about the fight itself other than that he lost and his words. This gives Crow some relief, though he will be cautious about using his double saber as C in the future.

What is he saying? He should be prioritizing Osborne’s assassination than his life here at school. Really, he shouldn’t get too greedy…

“Are you okay though? I’m sorry if I triggered you…”

This guy…

“How are you worrying about me when you’re the one who was on the verge of death?” Crow sighs in exasperation. “Seriously, worry about yourself before you worry about others.”

 

[Scene 2 - Rekindle]

Things are awkward between Rean and Alisa as they don’t know how to talk to each other anymore. Even with Rean’s whole crisis, Alisa can’t stop cringing at how she overreacted during and after her confession. Meanwhile, Rean gives her space, thinking she hates him.

Eventually, Alisa approaches him for a private conversation. 

“Oh, Alisa? Sorry, I’ll be on my way—”

“No, it’s fine. I wanted to talk to you anyway.”

“Why?”

“Because I’m tired of this awkwardness between us. I want things to change, so… here I am.”

“You want things to change? Between us?”

“Yes. I want us to be friends again. If you’re willing. That’s all.”

Rean stares at her, dumbfounded. “How?”

“I don’t know. We could start by, maybe, not avoiding each other? Saying good morning when we see each other? Maybe fish together sometimes, just to have company?”

“You fish?”

“Uh… I’ve been trying it out recently.”

Rean takes out a fishing rod. “Alright, let’s try this.”

They fish. They compete, though since they’re both amateurs, it’s not such a heated competition. It’s chill fun.

When they’re done, Rean asks, “Does this mean we’re friends again?”

Alisa stares at him in shock. It’s reminiscent of their first field study. It takes a weight off her chest to be back at this point.

“Do you want to fish with me again?” she answers with a question.

There is hesitation, but eventually he says “Yeah.”

She smiles. “Then, we’re friends.”

 

[Scene 3 - Extinguish]

Meeting with Alphonse happens. Alphonse is as hostile as ever, but Rean makes an effort to ignore him. Alphonse is frustrated and eventually corners and confronts him. He says he’s just been suspended for all his “lies” and “false accusations.”  Rean senses that he’s not being influenced by the curse at all. 

“This is the newest low for you. How dare you have the audacity to come back?”

“Normally, I wouldn’t. But, I owe it to my friends to come back and take care of myself better.”

“How they haven’t fled away from you after seeing how terrible you are, I can’t believe it.”

“I don't understand it either. But, it's because all these people are so relentless in keeping our bond that I can't help but believe that there's something good in the person they see, even if I can't see it. They've taught me that people can change and shape their worlds how they want it.”

“How naive.”

“Maybe, but I owe it to them to at least figure out what I want and to fight for it. And what I want… Is to stay away from you.”

Rean walks away despite how Alphonse is cursing his name. 

 

[Scene 4  - Burn]

Rean practices linking and is glad that he’s not accidentally severing the links anymore. He does side quests again and apologizes to everyone for his behavior in the previous month. 

Things seem to be looking up for him, but he’s still ashamed of himself.

Investigating the Old Schoolhouse is tough on him because it brings back memories and feelings. It’s also become more supernatural than before, and it calls on his power. But, he knows he has to do this. He knows that he wants to awaken this Divine Knight. 

Sara reveals that the group for the next field study in Legram is him, Crow, Emma, Gaius, Jusis, and Laura. 

 

---

Chapter 35 - Proud? Of Me?

[Legram Intro]

Legram’s introduction. Things mostly stay the same except Rean is more doubtful and Crow’s here to bring more teasing. Crow is also notably tired because he’s juggling his terrorist operation in Crossbell and this field study at the same time. He’s getting no sleep.

The biggest plot change is when they get to Lohengrin Castle. Because of its supernatural nature and connection to a Divine Knight trial, Rean feels it resonating with his power like with the Old Schoolhouse. The monsters are also way more powerful than they're used to, so he’s worried he might have to tap into that power. His friends reassure him that they’ll be strong enough so that he won’t have to resort to his power.

Rean also questions why they’re letting him take the lead. Jusis and Laura and Gaius are easily leader types. 

Crow jokes with a goofy wink. “Because you’re cute when you’re in charge.”

Jusis channels all his judgment into the void-piercing deadpan he sends to Crow. “Will you take this seriously?” He then turns to face Rean. “I know you’re still struggling to believe in yourself, but you do act like you’re more experienced when it comes to exploring dungeons. I feel like I can rest easy knowing you’re in charge and won’t walk into the blatantly obvious traps… Unlike a certain someone else.”

Laura stands tall, proud. “I don’t know why you’re framing that like it’s a bad thing. It’s just another form of endurance training.”

“What about Gaius?”

“He’s worse. He knows where and what the traps are but doesn’t say anything until something triggers it.”

“I thought the goal was for all of us to get stronger? I’m just assessing everyone’s perception and finding ways to make everyone more situationally aware. Even Fie agrees.”

Rean sweat-drops. “Then you, Jusis? Or Emma, since you’re more familiar with the supernatural?”

“This isn’t my specialty,” Jusis huffs.

Emma says, “Leading isn’t something I’m comfortable with at the moment…”

“How about me?” Crow lazily raises his hand around. “I’m sure I’d make a great leader!”

“And let you slack off while you tell us what to do? I’d rather be deserted on an island with Millium.”

“You know me so well~”

Jusis turns back to Rean. “So, there you have it.”

 

[Choice]

They explore the dungeon. Eventually they reach a hall. There’s a miniboss. Rean lands the finishing blow with an attack that moves him to the other side of the monster. Just as they regroup, a barrier forms that separates Rean from everyone else. 

Rean reassures them to get ahead and fight whatever is at the top of the castle. Maybe defeating it will make the castle turn back to normal. Meanwhile, he can find another way to regroup with them. 

They separate. Just when his classmates are out of range, Black Alberich appears. 

“Lord Ishmelga is angry at you, Vessel.”

Alberich summons Zoa Balor and attacks him. Rean is still exhausted from the fight with the mini boss. All his items are with his classmates. While he is familiar with Zoa Balor’s functions, he doubts he has the strength to defeat it.

And perhaps it’s because Alberich is here, Rean can feel his power’s call getting stronger. He doesn’t want to lose himself around this guy again though.

Just when his exhaustion makes him trip on the floor and he’s about to get hit, someone protects him.

It’s Lianne. 

Rean just about gets another heart attack.

They fight, but Black Alberich knows he stands no chance against the Lance Maiden. Instead, he resorts to a conversation. He points at Rean.

“If you truly cared for him, then you would let Rean follow whatever path he chooses, right? I’m just giving him an opportunity to return to his dearest father instead of wasting his time in school.”

So then it’s up to Rean. To stay with Class VII or not. After two months of pondering the same question, his choice is surprisingly easy. It does help that he can recognize that this is clearly a trap. Now, if his dad was actually here, that would make him choose something else.

Taking a deep breath, he stands his ground.

“No… I’m not going with you! I… I want to stay with Class VII!” Refusing Black Alberich, and Ishmelga by extension, felt so freeing. 

Alberich gets mad and clashes with Lianne before he retreats.

She mentions how Ouroboros has a plan to end the great power without activating the great twilight. It gives them some hope for an alternative fight for Erebonia’s peace that doesn't require any great sacrifice and the like.

Lianne also says she's proud of how Rean is making his own decisions.

“You’re… proud of me?”

He tears up and she gives him a hug.

Rean asks for her help to control his power without hurting anyone. She suggests challenging her descendant, Victor S Arseid. She believes that he will be enough to handle his inner demon. Plus, it would allow him to open up to his classmates. 

“Everyone falls from grace. I can’t even count the amount of times that I’ve fallen or how many times Dreichels has fallen. It’s all normal and okay. What matters is how you move forward,” Lianne whispers gently. "Let's start right now by saving your friends."

Because they currently have no way to beat the final boss of the dungeon. Lianne helps them like in canon and Rean swoops in to help end the fight. 

 

---

Chapter 36 - Nurturing Steel

Rean Osborne was dead.

That was the only thing Lianne could think about, looking at the child in front of her. 

The last straw was letting him remember the value of life and making him realize that he had soiled it. At the time, she thought it was a good idea to return a bit of his humanity by reminding him of kindness, but that action only caused him to bury himself in his head. Since then, his body was basically like a machine, only moving to do what he was programmed to do. 

And what he did was basically: hurting, cutting, and killing other living things, along with basic survival functions. 

Lianne was forced to isolate him in an area where no human would usually visit. She chose a cave in the mountains of Bryonia Island. She doubted any sane person would manage to find this particular spot because of the climbing and fighting required to even get here.

Plus, she had Argreion watching over the area. If some anomaly did find this place, then Lianne could be alerted and would arrive here to “scare off” whoever dare to venture near. Her plan seemed fine. 

Though, every time she returned from Ouroboros meetings, she was always faced with a sword or any kind of sharp object pointed toward her throat. To turn Dreichel’s child— to turn any child into this. Oh, Aidios needed to give her the strength to absolutely obliterate Ishmelga.

But first, Rean was the priority.

...

“It’s too late. The remnants of Ishmelga’s spirit is the only thing holding the boy’s unstable soul together. Even if you somehow remove all of Ishmelga’s influence, the boy will truly be a simple husk of his former self.”

Within twenty days of taking Rean into her care, there had been no progress with his recovery. To hear that he was still getting worse did not ease the burden on her mind.

“Argreion, do you know what we can do for him?”

“If he is to live on, then he will have to live carrying a piece of Ishmelga within him. He will grow, it along with him, and they will become one and the same. If something goes wrong, he could become just as dangerous as Ishmelga. Are you sure this is the right decision?”

“Are you suggesting I leave him to die?”

“If you wish for Ishmelga to die, then he is fated to die regardless.”

Sighing, Lianne looked over to her charge, sleeping soundly on a little cot next to the window. Like this, he looked so harmless, so innocent. 

“You are right. As he is, the right thing to do would be to kill him and spare everyone the misery. But, I am selfish... And hopeful... That Aidios won’t deny him a bright future if we fight for it.”

“And how are you going to do that?”

She let her hand drift to the boy’s hair. It was all matted and dirty because he wouldn’t stay in the bath without resisting. She couldn’t clean him without either of them getting hurt.

“There are two things to do first. One, we bring back his humanity. Two, we teach his Ishmelga side that there’s more to the world than nothingness and despair.”

…

Again, there’s no progress for the next three days. No matter how much kindness Lianne showers him with, it seems like nothing will pierce through Rean’s hollow exterior. She contemplates a different method. It’s at this point that an unexpected visitor teleports in.

“Arianrhod, I’m bored. Can I duel with you—”

McBurn stops when he sees Rean, who is sitting against the wall and staring into space. He goes to approach the boy, but Lianne steps between them, glaring.

Unfazed, McBurn mutters, “He has power like mine…” 

With a snap of his fingers, a ball of flame appears over his palm. 

Lianne knows about his situation, but she would prefer if he and any other member of Ouroboros would stay away. They are not… the best influence. Before she can chase him out, however, she hears a gasp from behind her.

Rean’s gaze is fixed on the flame. His whole body is shaking and it sounds like he’s gasping for air. It’s a panic attack. That realization almost makes Lianne skewer McBurn, but then she realizes that this is the first time Rean has shown emotion since the incident.

Even if it is fear.

That means Rean isn’t lost. 

Lianne goes to comfort the boy, and it works for once. Rean calms down and returns to just staring into nothingness, though there’s notable tension in his shoulders as he cowers away from McBurn’s flame. 

McBurn lets the flame disappear. “What’s up with him?”

She contemplates her options and decides to explain a bit to McBurn. She doesn’t go into detail about what happened to Rean, but just says he’s been forced to carry another power inside himself and it’s mostly taken over him. He can barely remember who he is.

McBurn rubs his chin. “Hm… Can I help?”

“What?”

“His situation sounds kinda like mine, don’t you think? Maybe I can learn something about myself from him.”

“How can you help?”

“I can give you advice. You’ve been sheltering him too much. With power that unstable, clearly he just needs to go all out and release all that pent up energy. He’s probably bottling everything in, even himself. If he lets loose, then maybe it’ll jog his memory.”

“Is that why you keep asking to fight anyone you deem strong? To regain your memory?”

“That and I’m bored. Hey, since I gave you that advice, how about you pay me with a duel?”

They let him go all out and he emits black and white flames with his attacks. It’s nothing in the face of the likes of Lianne and McBurn, but it would be dangerous if this boy was in the care of a normal family. Rean is raging for three days straight while Lianne just makes sure he doesn’t hurt himself. After the third day, he passes out, but not before he’s able to cut a few strands of Lianne’s hair.

When he wakes up, he’s more complacent. There’s less spontaneous violence and he doesn’t try to hurt Lianne every time she returns home. Sometimes she does have to leave on long missions from the Grandmaster, and she very reluctantly leaves Rean in McBurn’s care.

Surprisingly, Rean is safe and the house is intact when she returns. She finds out he’s oddly more proficient with a blade and blames McBurn for it. But, it does seem that his compulsion for violence is more controlled, in that it’s only directed to the monsters on the island. As long as he gets it out of his system, he lets her bathe him and read books to him without a fuss. At least this side of the boy is getting better.

As for Rean, there are moments when he surfaces. Like when he says a quiet good morning to her. Or when he finds flipped tortoises on the ground and returns them back to their feet. Especially when he apologizes to her prolonging the suffering of the monsters he kills.

He even hugs her.

.

.

.

Until he stabs her.

It’s her fifteenth month of taking care of Rean. Recently, they’ve been visiting Ordis just to get him readjusted to society. While it’s mostly Ishmelga’s side that’s taking control of the boy’s body, he’s at least tame enough to not attack anyone. It’s a normal day like any other.

However, when they’re about to leave, Rean reaches out for a hug. She leans down, wraps her arms around him and— There’s a sharp pain in her abdomen. Her hand reaches down and feels blood trickle down.

The knife clatters to the ground. 

She stares back at the boy, who’s hair and eyes have suddenly reverted back to how he was before Ishmelga corrupted him. She has no time to be glad for how he returned to normal because he flees her. 

She heals herself and runs after him, but stops in her tracks when she sees Rean bump into a familiar family. It’s Dreichel’s— Giliath’s adoptive brother. They talk about how they’ve been looking for him and want to take care of him as their son. Rean looks scared, confused, but mostly exhausted. Maybe it’s because he recognizes them that he passes out on them without worry.

She observes for the next few days. Judging by how Rean doesn’t run away from the Schwarzers at every chance he gets, that he probably doesn’t remember that he stabbed her. Else, he’d probably retreat into his shell and they would be back at step zero. 

After feeling comfortable enough with him in their care and knowing that he’s better off growing up with a normal family, Lianne leaves to focus on her own missions. 

 

---

Chapter 37 - “Flames, Gather on My Blade!”

 

[Scene 1 - Crow’s POV]

He just watches Rean pacing around the room being all anxious. He’s panicking about asking Laura’s dad to duel. Laura tells Rean multiple times that he can cancel the duel, but he says he has to, though doesn’t explain why.

Crow notes the rapid tapping of his hand against his side. There’s a rhythm. He decides to tap out the rhythm, curious if Rean’s conscious of what he’s doing.

Rean pauses and asks “What are you doing?”

Crow parrots the question back, adding “Is this supposed to be music. It has an… interesting beat.” 

Rean stops. “It’s not music.”

The rest of the class notices. Laura asks, “Then… Is it like a secret code?” 

“Or a language?” Emma offers.

Crow ponders. He does recall that there have been times when people have used knocks to communicate with each other. There was a time when the ILF was considering using something like that so it would be harder to leak information, but then they figured out how to use technology and Vita’s magic to encrypt their messages. 

Rean didn’t say anything. 

“It seems like they hit the nail right on the head,” Gaius concluded. 

Crow grinned. “What kind of secrets could the goodie-two-shoes be hiding? Who could he be telling them to? Cats? Birds?” The idea of Rean somehow communicating with animals wouldn’t surprise him that much. He had been teased by Vita and Griannos talking about him behind his back (or rather, in front of his face but he couldn’t understand anything). 

“I guess it's like a code. But I'm not talking to anyone. Not like there's anyone who can listen.”

“What’s the point in communicating if no one is going to understand you?” Crow said off-handedly. Upon seeing the raven’s shoulders slump a bit, he quickly added in a cheerful tone, “Come on, you’re wasting this code’s potential! Just imagine: if I understood it, we could secretly swap answers while we’re taking an exam!”

Jusis groaned and smacked him in the head with their field study notebook. “Seriously? Are you not able to read the mood?”

The others nodded furiously, like they were privy to knowledge he didn’t know.

“Crow, I do not condone cheating.” His junior crossed his arms and gave him the most unimpressed look he ever had the pleasure of seeing.

“Hey, don’t you want me to graduate?” the silver-haired teen smirked back.

Rean huffed and looked away. After a brief silence, their eyes met again. “Are you serious?”

“About cheating? Sure.”

An eraser suddenly collided with Crow’s forehead. “I meant if you were serious about learning the code.”

He could see pain and hesitant trust clash in Rean’s eyes. This… meant a lot more to the swordsman than Crow had realized. 

Considering his position, the terrorist knew it was a bad idea to get even closer to the other. But he couldn’t find it in himself to refuse. He had a feeling that if he refused, Rean would just close himself up again.

He sighed. This was his fault for always pushing boundaries.

“Of course! Now I don’t have to study for my exams!”

A notebook smacked him square in the face. Rean then ignored him and looked to the rest of their classmates.

“Would you all like to learn it, too?”

They chorused with their agreement.

Rean took a deep breath.

Then, he let his hand sing. 

 

[Scene 2 - Rean’s POV]:

Rean asks to fight the Radiant Blademaster. He feels secure because Lianne and the class are watching over him and believe in him. 

Their blades clash. Rean’s vision whites out.

He wakes up and he’s finally back in the weird dreamscape he found himself back in when he was in the hospital. In front of him, he sees a reflection of himself, though it’s all corrupted with Ishmelga’s influence.

He has a talk with his “other self,” He finally accepts it. 

“If it’s to protect the ones I care about… If it’s to grasp a future where I can be happy… Then I’ll stop hating you. I’ll stop fearing you.”

“You will? I’m going to need more than that.”

Rean rushes forward. His other half thinks it’s an attack, but Rean doesn’t draw his blade. Instead, he hugs him.

“I am you, and you are me. I accept you. Now, give me the strength I need!”

He returns to reality. Victor S. Arseid questions his lack of focus. Rean apologizes and changes his stance. 

He uses his ogre form. He also uses fire.

For some reason the flames are black and white

“Forget that— mindclearmindclearmindclearmindclear—”

Black and white wisps started to form around his blade. Calming flames… Whispering flames… He was starting to feel like he could do anything. That he could kill anyone — his mind focused on Lianne’s presence. Right, there was no need to kill anyone. The important thing here was to understand his own strength and then hopefully tame it to protect everyone he cares about. 

They fight. Rean doesn’t win, but he puts up an impressive fight. Of his own will, the power fades without issue.

His classmates tackle him into a group hug. They laugh. For the first time in a long time, Rean laughs.

He smiles.

 

[Scene 3 - Osborne’s POV]

Black Alberich reports back that the vessel is resisting. Ishmelga is pissed, and Osborne barely restrains a laugh. Hearing Rean commit suicide a second time almost made him lose his mind to Ishmelga. It’s been a rough couple of months, but things are looking up again.

“You planned this, didn’t you?”

“Whatever could you mean? I merely placed him in a position that would allow him to access Valimar. I couldn’t have possibly known that joining that class would make him enter a rebellious phase? Anyway, I don’t see why you should care? I thought he was just trash to you?”

Osborne notes that he's aware of Ishmelga’s and Alberich’s attempts to kill Rean or make him submit to them. He deduces it’s because Ishmelga is connected to Rean via their link, and therefore feels all the positive feelings that Rean’s experiencing.

Undoubtedly, Ishmelga hates that. Poor thing. Not.

Osborne also contemplates if it would've been better to leave Rean in the snow. If Rean would've still thought about himself like this. If staying together as father and son was going to be their ultimate downfall.

He ponders if it would be better to cut ties with his son right now and then almost laughs. Rean had tried that with his friends just now, didn't he? And it ended terribly. Osborne doubts repeating the same mistake would have a better outcome.

He figures that he can't have regrets. What's done is done. He just has to believe in Rean to get through. But of course, he has ways to help with that.

 

---

Chapter 38 - The Best We Can Be

[Garrelia Fortress - Key Point 1]

The plot goes mostly the same. Maybe dig more into Crow’s perspective about the terrorist’s objective and that they’re in contact with Dieter Crois of Crossbell. 

“Don’t you think it would be hypocritical for Chancellor Osborne to say that Crossbell is lacking in security when the very impregnable Garrelia fortress is being infiltrated by terrorists?”

The key part of the plan is to cause enough chaos to force Chancellor Osborne to make a public address at Dreichel’s plaza. While it is reliant on yet another party, Crow has no complaints if it’ll give him the perfect assassination opportunity. 

 

[Garrelia Fortress - Key Point 2]

They fight the terrorists. When the terrorists escape on the vehicle “C” is piloting, Rean notices that he can’t sense any sign of life in the vehicle. He thought that maybe it was out of range, but Ishmelga’s power always boosted his senses

 

[Garrelia Fortress - Key Point 3]

Laura’s determination falters after seeing so many tanks. Like her strength just cannot compare. Rean notices and the conversation reminds her of something she once told him.

“I know it seems intimidating, but that doesn’t mean we should give up the meaning of our swords to it. We made a promise that, no matter what, we would be the best that we could be, right?”

Laura laughs. “I can’t believe I’d see the day that you, of all people, would scold me over something like this.”

“It’s thanks to you and everyone.” Rean smiles. “Anyway, I’d like to renew that promise. I didn’t really believe in it back then, and I think it would be good for both of us to have a reminder.”

“Sure, let’s do it.” They both hold their swords up.

Someone coughs behind them. “Aren’t you forgetting someone?”

It’s Jusis. He joins them. Just as they’re about to renew the vow, someone from Class VII stumbles upon them and asks to join in. Eventually, the whole class is here, they even drag Crow in (who just snuck back in from terrorism meetings and stuff).

They raise their weapons and unite them all together.

“To be the best that we can be!” 

 

---

 

[Bonus: The rest of the class learns the code too.]

Millium: m-a-c-h-i--a-n-s--#-6--p-l-s

Machias: n-o

Crow: i-t-s--C

Machias: n-o--i-t-s--A

Fie: t-h-x

Millium and Crow: t-y

Two loud face palms resound through the class. 

“Kids, I know the test is hard, but there’s no need to hurt your heads over it!”

(Despite how they were using it to cheat, Rean felt less alone.)

 

---

---

 

“When we honestly ask ourselves which persons in our lives mean the most to us, we often find that it is those who, instead of giving advice, solutions, or cures, have chosen rather to share our pain and touch our wounds with a warm and tender hand. The friend who can be silent with us in a moment of despair and confusion, who can stay with us in an hour of grief and bereavement, who can tolerate not knowing, not curing, not healing and face with us the reality of our powerlessness, that is a friend who cares.” ~ Henri Novwen

Notes:

Any of the events go like you expected or nah? I definitely had fun with a bunch of this stuff :3 I almost started plotting for a Rufus and Vita ship just cuz of that one scene and they're both super hot

Like I said before, I split CSI’s outline in two due to it being too long. So far, this story has been focusing on Rean’s struggles and him growing to surpass them. From here on, romance is slowly going to become more prominent as Crow begins to slowly creep up to the throne of the deuteragonist lol (which is totally not gonna make the ending of CSI more dramatic or whatever, haha...)

If you have any questions about certain events/developments (or events that you expected to happen but didn't) let me know. Or maybe you noticed a gap that I didn't. There's a lot of stuff to keep track of and past me was not as keen on writing everything down when she needed to. I totally don't mind explaining or going into more detail on parts of this story that was glossed over or missed.

Also let me know if this outline format is okay or if you think it could be done better differently.

Take care!

Also also: I 100% ship Elise with Patrick and I’m pushing that in this story whether anyone wants it or not (Plus, it’s an excuse to get more Rean-Crow-PattyCake dynamic in my life lol… I’m sure Patrick will absolutely adore his in-laws)

Chapter 28: CSI - Part Two

Notes:

Warning! I am speedrunning and I am being as self-indulgent as possible!

(This part was lucky because it had the most pre-written stuff)

“To betray, one must first belong.” ~ Harold Philby

 

---

---

*Chapter 39 - Black and White

(After Legram, Rean feels like he should be on a path to becoming mentally stronger. Turns out healing isn’t a simple upward arrow)

White. Blank. No cracks. No paint flaking. A little dust. White. Blank. No cracks. No paint flaking. A little dust. 

He blinked.

He didn’t realize his eyes were wide open, blankly staring at the ceiling. His thoughts were motionless and the details of how there was a bird softly chirping or how his ARCUS was loudly ringing simply weren’t registering in his mind until the fourth ring.

Snapping back into reality, Rean’s hand lurched over to the sound of the ringing, clumsily opening the device and answering the call without looking at the caller ID.

“Hello..?” His voice sounded so distant, he wasn’t even sure if he actually spoke or just imagined himself talking.

“Rean! Where are you? Class is about to start!” came Alisa’s concerned voice. 

It took a while, but when he finally understood what that string of words meant, he suddenly sat up.

He was going to be late to school.

“Uh- Sorry, I must’ve overslept. I’ll try to get there as fast as possible!”

He ended the call before he could hear any response. Sighing, he dropped the ARCUS to his side and observed his surroundings. Family photo sitting on top of the desk, tachi and Eastern poster hanging on the wall, and a bunch of paper horses flooding his shelf.

Nothing was out of place, but it looked so… weird. Everything looked so dull— so uninteresting, despite all the emotional memories attached to each object. 

Even the stress of being late to class was losing its intensity as the blackness from closing his eyelids seemed to be the thing he’d rather keep his focus on.

And yet he didn’t feel like sleeping. He didn’t feel like doing anythi—

No. 

He couldn’t do this- couldn’t feel like this when things were finally looking up for him. How could he allow himself to wallow in his depression when he promised everyone that he’d only strive to improve himself from now on?

The guilt and fear of breaking his promise was what pushed him out of his bed, made him throw on a crinkled uniform and crooked tie, and allowed him to look at the mirror of a guy with bed-hair and tired eyes. 

Acceptable enough. He didn’t exactly have the luxury of having a nice appearance when he was already late (and when the remaining energy in his arms was barely enough to turn the knob of his door). 

His wrist twisted, opening the door and then—

His fingers suddenly twitched, the fabric of his bed sheet depressing from the brief pressure. His bleary eyes slowly blinked open, only to realize he was still in his bed and the whole sequence of him getting out of his bed was a dream. Glancing at the call logs, the call with Alisa definitely happened five minutes ago, but apparently he did succumb to sleep.

He let out a hopeless sigh. If it was so difficult to get out of his bed in his dreams, then how was he going to do it in real life?

After a good five minutes of debating whether he was capable of moving, he concluded that he'd rather not worry everyone by not showing up and finally decided to get moving.

(Though he ended up looking a little messier than the dream version.)

He took only one step out of his door and he already felt like giving up his quest to go to school. For no reason, too. While only his muscles were fatigued, there was nothing wrong with his body to be excused from attendance.

And yet moving seemed to be too much effort.

Whatever. At least he didn’t have to think much to force his legs to move to the stairs and—

Apparently trip down the first step.

With gravity mercilessly pulling him down.

He crashed and rolled against the edges of the stairs again and again until his back slammed against the wall.

How clumsy of him. Now he had to deal with a lack of motivation, tiredness, and pain, but at least it didn't feel like he sprained or broke anything. 

Wonderful. Going to school was going to be just wonderful. But first, he needed to wait for his vision to steady.

“Rean?”

The voice was muffled to his ringing ears, so he couldn’t really distinguish whose it was. However, knowing that Sharon usually did groceries at this time while most of Class VII was at school, it could only be one person. 

He was not surprised that, when his vision cleared up, he saw Crow nonchalantly sliding down the railing of the stairs before jumping off at the end and making a graceful landing. 

The slacker’s relaxed, dramatic performance was only betrayed by the concerned edge in his voice. “Shouldn’t you be at school?”

“Shouldn’t you?” Rean retorted, not feeling in the mood to describe how complicated it was to do something as simple as getting out of bed. 

“Well, I was going to, buuuuuuut my bed seemed to really love my ass and didn’t want to let go, and who am I to go against the bed’s wishes?” Crow yawned, stretching his arms up but his gaze never left their target. Despite how they seemed to be having a normal conversation, Rean was well aware of the other's sharp senses that were scanning over his appearance, assessing for any injuries. “I’m assuming the floor took a liking to your ass, too?”

It was a really strange way of him asking, Did you fall?

Crow may be in danger of failing, but he wasn’t actually an idiot. While his attention span around academics was practically nonexistent, his ability to assess and deal with situations or people was ridiculously precise. At this rate, Crow was probably going to achieve a mastery level at how to deal with him because Rean was actually comfortable about admitting something so pathetic about himself without actually saying it.

“Yeah, the floor likes me so much that I think it married me." Seriously, he couldn’t get his legs to pick himself up. His lower muscles felt so boneless and energy-depleted that he wondered if they turned into jello. “I don’t think it understands that I need to go to school.”

Warily, he watched Crow hum and crouch by his side. “Hey, I understand that you need to go to school.” There was a smirk stretched across his face, coupled with a smooth wink. “How about you divorce the floor and elope with me? I promise it’ll be a bunch of fun~”

Perhaps it was because of his poor mental state, but Rean didn’t even feel exasperated at the shameless flirting. Behind the teasing was Crow genuinely asking if he needed help, and Rean was feeling extremely stubborn and introverted today so he wasn’t sure if he was ready to accept something he normally rejected. 

After another lengthy debate in his head, however, he decided he really didn’t like the idea of Sharon or anyone else finding him like this, so he sighed, “Yeah. Take me away.”

He reached his hand out, expecting Crow to grab it and help pull him up.

He didn’t expect an arm to gently hook under his legs while the other supported his back.

“What—”

And he was slowly lifted into the air.

The realization that he was a victim to the princess-carry clicked in his mind faster than he would’ve liked. Somehow feelings of embarrassment seemed to burst into his empty emotional reservoir, heat rising to his face as his body jerked like it hadn’t just been depleted of energy. 

“Okay, nevermind. I take it back. Drop me.”

Crow laughed with no restraint and the sound made Rean feel a little lighter, despite how much he’d rather plummet into the depths of emptiness than deal with this humiliation. “Oh, there are no take-backs. You’re stuck with me now~”

His chest twitched with feelings he couldn’t understand before the delayed wave of exasperation finally hit him with a force comparable to being hit by Angie’s orbal bike. It was already hard winning against Crow on a good day, so he was doomed to lose when he was already in an awful condition. 

And yet… Crow had a way of riling him that made him not want to give up the battle.

“I think you have a misunderstanding, I was only offering you an out.” Rean had to tear out whatever fire currently existed in his soul so he could have even a chance of challenging the trickster. His lips twitched up and formed a perfect smile while his eyes closed, mimicking the joyous expression he usually wore when Patrick talked about Elise. “But, since you’re so persistent , I want you to know that you’re the one stuck with me. You’re going to school now, whether you like it or not, Crow.”

He figured his intimidation was effective when he could feel Crow’s body shiver for a moment. 

Crow's face, however, was still full of undeterred mischief. “You would be more convincing if you weren’t the one being carried right now.”

Would it be dumb to use his ogre power just for the benefit of getting the strength he needed to stand?

No. He didn’t think so. At least at this moment.

So he did.  

With familiar, somewhat now-comfortable power crackling throughout his body like electricity, he rolled out of Crow’s grasp in one swift movement and softly landed on two feet and one arm. Shortly afterwards, he stood up to his full height and dusted himself off before reaching his hand to grasp Crow's wrist. 

Looking at his amused classmate, he breathed out, “Shall we, then?”

...

Rean lost all of his bravado and energy when he walked out of the doors with Crow.

Why? Because there was fog. In Trista. 

The last time there was fog in this town, he…

No wonder he felt so awful today. Though it wasn’t like his body usually needed a reason to feel bad.

Weakly, his hand slipped from the other as he slightly leaned on the door. His breaths came out a little harsher than usual, trying to calm himself down from the memory. 

It was so weird to think that if things went a little differently, he could’ve been dead right now. 

He would’ve never been able to make up with Elise. He would’ve never had closure with his mom nor would he have had any resolution with Lianne. Least of all would he have ever accepted his power if he had died beforehand. 

It was true that he still hated himself, particularly the parts that remained of his past. At the same time, however, he was happy with what he had accomplished so far. He was okay with who he was in the present, and he had a slight hope that he would be even better in the future.

So this… The fog. The twitches of his fingers, craving to wrap around his tachi and feel the cold metal against his skin. This was all terrifying.

He needed to get out of here.

“Rean?” He was closing his eyes, so he didn’t notice how Crow was hovering around him, looking at him with masked concern. 

Thinking about it, this guy was one of the big reasons why he was still here today. He never thanked him for that, did he?

“Hey, Crow?” His eyes slightly opened and timidly met the other’s. “It’s long overdue, but I just want to say thanks for saving me on that day.”

He was grateful that he didn’t have to elaborate what that day meant, sensing the understanding coming from the other. 

Crow snorted, “You saved yourself.”

“With your help.” His smile was weak but full of sincerity. “Seriously, thanks so much. I’m really glad I'm still alive.”

If he was more aware of his surroundings instead of fighting with violent memories trying to resurface, he would’ve noticed a tinge of red on his friend's cheeks.

“You say that but you’re raising a bunch of red flags right now, Rean.”

Ugh. He only realized this now, but Crow, despite acting egotistical and dramatic at times, always deflected or ignored his own achievements when they actually mattered. How frustrating. Was this how everyone felt when he was being too humble?

His eyes closed halfway, deadpanning at his companion. “I don’t think I’d thank you for saving me, only to off myself later.” Before Crow could say otherwise, Rean took a step forward. “But if you don’t believe me, I’ll prove it right now. We’ll go to school. When that’s over, we’ll go back to the dorms and I’ll fall asleep in my bed, safe and sound. I promise.”

Crow only made a hum of acknowledgement, saying nothing as he followed Rean toward their school.

…

The walk to Thors Military Academy was exhausting; he could collapse any moment now. How pathetic, and he had the audacity to call himself a martial artist? Disgrace. 

Unfortunately, no matter how much he insulted himself, it didn’t help to increase his energy levels at all. Embarrassingly, he was leaning onto Crow to keep his balance by the time they passed through the main gates. At this point, he was closing his eyes and letting Crow steer him toward the building.

However, it was dumb of him to trust Crow to lead him to school because, when he opened his eyes, he found himself standing in front of the engineering building. 

“This isn’t class,” he deadpanned. 

“Astute observation there, Rean-o.” Crow said, casuallying leading him to where the orbal bike was covered by a thick plastic sheet. Dramatically, he unveiled the machine and grinned, “Like I said before, I’m eloping with you, partner.”

“And I said that we’re going to school.”

Crow pointed at the main gates with his thumb, mischievously smirking. “Yeah? And we’re at school. Now it’s time to leave~”

Rean probably would’ve punched this guy with whatever non-existent strength he could muster up if his mind wasn’t so caught up on Crow’s last word. “Leave?”

“Yeah, it’s criminal that we have to go to school in this awful weather! No one can focus under these conditions, so I think it’d be better to cool our heads and go to Heimdallr or something. I bet it’s sunny over there.”

Beneath all the exaggeration, Crow seemed to have read his mind with terrifying accuracy.  And because those were his exact thoughts earlier, it was harder for Rean to ignore the trickster’s temptations for once. 

"Angie will get mad," he tried to reason.

"She owes me for stealing some girls I had my eyes on."

"George will get mad."

"He wants me to pick something up at Heimdallr."

"Towa will get mad."

"She advocates taking mental health days off."

“Skipping school is bad.”

“Going to school without being in the right state of mind is pointless though.”

Aidios— This guy had a counter to everything. This was truly an awful idea. But, the more Crow kept talking, the more it sounded less like a bad idea.

He was going to regret this, wasn’t he?

• Anyway, they go to Heimdallr. Rean takes the side car because he doesn’t really have the strength to hold on and because he’d rather not
• Crow dumps him off at his sister’s school. He feels better after talking to Elise. 
• Crow’s excuse for leaving is to gamble on horse races.
• He says that they can meet up at the orbal bike.
• He leaves early and starts looking for Crow so they can leave.
• He sees him talking with Misty. He wonders if they’re dating.
• He also feels kinda betrayed cause it seemed like Crow used Rean as an excuse to use the orbal bikes to go to Heimdallr for gambling and to hit on people.
• “Are you dating?”
• “Would I really be out here flirting with all these chicks if I didn’t have a special someone?”
• Vita tells him that Crow's like a younger brother she never wanted.
• “Oh come on, I know you love me~”
• Vita ignores him. "How about you two go on a friendly date together instead! You're in Heimdallr already anyway!"
• Rean shrugs. "I doubt I'd be worth the effort."
• Crow and Vita look at each other.
• Date it is! 
• They somehow get roped in a side quest with Anton who’s searching for the love of his life. 
• Funny enough, despite how they went here for better weather, it starts storming when they have to leave. 
• They return. Class VII tackles him because they were worried and didn’t know where he was at.
• It turns out that Rean left his ARCUS at his room. Crow only shot a text to Angie that he was stealing the bike but not saying anything about bringing Rean. 
• When he wakes up, he feels much better and sees various copies of notes from his classmates. He smiles, keeping note to thank them later. 

---

Chapter 40 - White with Black (To be Needed)

Crow made a big mistake. He was trying to rectify it by avoiding the current bane of existence, but he was failing terribly.

Yeah, he was talking about Rean. No, this wasn't some silly crush. It was just that he was getting just as attached to the teen as their classmates. It was just that, after seeing Rean’s fake smiles and period of depression, maybe finally seeing him make a real smile made Crow feel a little proud 

Maybe Crow just wanted to see that real smile again.

No, seriously, it was an experience witnessing that smile bloom for the first time in the aftermath of finally controlling the power that made him want to kill himself. It was like watching a bird with a broken wing finally fly again after giving it so much care. 

It didn’t help that he generally had been feeling lighter after venting all his frustrations to the suicidal maniac back then. He had been hoping that a bullet through Osborne’s skull would cure him of all his hatred, no… whatever that hot mess back then had been.

Damn, this was too dangerous.

He had told himself that he would steer clear from Rean from then on because seeing that smile made him feel things, but seeing him all depressed one day…

What else could he do? Let him wallow in misery and maybe kill himself again? Ugh, Crow was a piece of shit, but he wasn’t that cruel. That had been why he pulled that whole stint and took them out of Trista. Heimdallr had been the chosen location because his sister was there and could cheer him up while Crow could distract himself with gambling, the ultimate sin. 

And maybe he really liked seeing Rean smile a real smile. Nothing wrong with that. He can indulge himself a bit before he will eventually ruin his life. Sure. 

And maybe seeing the entire class light up like puppies at their return made him feel wanted. A bit. Maybe even a little needed.

…Shit. He needed to get his mind out of the gutter. 

Now, as the dawn rose and he could feel himself coming down with a fever, he could say that he didn’t regret anything. Yeah, maybe driving out in the cold rain and giving Rean his jacket to cover himself had been another bad idea. At least that meant he could stay in the dorm and be all by himself while the others would be stuck studying in schoo—

There was a knock on his door. 

“Crow, wake up or you’ll miss school Again.”

Crow’s immune system decided to fuck him over by answering with a loud sneeze. 

“Hey, are you okay?”

“Just dandy!” he said as he sat up and wiped away his snot on his bedsheets. Ugh, gross. 

He should’ve known that his response wouldn’t be enough for the goody-two-shoes. The door opened, revealing Rean with a slightly concerned tilt in his eyebrow. Upon seeing Crow in all his glorified sickness, those eyes widened with guilt.

“Hey, it’s not your fault that we got assaulted by lady luck’s tears last night,” he groaned. “You ought to take care of yourself before thinking about taking care of anyone else.”

Rean stared at him for a bit, no doubt trying to figure out how sick he really was. Eventually, a soft smile crept up on his face. “Well, thanks to you, I ate all my meals yesterday and had adequate sleep, so I’m well enough to take care of another person.”

Where was Osborne when you most needed him to manifest all your hatred and disgust? Please, this was too… nice for him. 

Disguising his constant inner turmoil, Crow teased, “Well then, you know what’ll make me feel better? A nice big hug~”

Rean kicked the bed.

“Oi, oi, I thought you said you were going to be my nurse! What kind of service are you running here?!”

“Sorry, this is my first day,” Rean smiled sweetly at him. Now he knew how Patty-Cakes felt. “You’ll have to bear with any amateur mistakes here and there.”

“Oi, Rean. Your smile is kinda sending fear straight to my soul.” He warily eyed the hand that was reaching toward his face. “And what are you planning to do with your hand? My handsome face can’t take another beating!”

The hand patted the fluffy hair on his head.

“Eh?”

“You need sleep to recover.” Rean’s eyes turned away. “Elise tells me this gesture has a soothing effect, so I’m hoping this will help you sleep faster.”

Well, it did feel really good. And it also reminded him of his other problem. Ever since he hugged Rean in the Old Schoolhouse, he had noticed something. A pull for more. Vita would call him touch-starved. Crow would insist that he wasn’t. Still, that didn’t stop him from joining in all of Class VII’s group hugs.

“Hmm, yeah… That’s nice. I might even sleep faster if you join me~”

Another kick to the bed.

“Hey, my poor bed doesn’t deserve this kind of abuse!”

A sigh fell from Rean’s lips. “Seriously Crow, what will it take for you to lie in bed and rest?”

Maybe being super annoying would drive Rean away. And because “Crow” was never serious, he offered the other a dumb grin and said, “A bedtime story. I got a bunch of porn magazines under my be that you can read to me~”

Rean glared at him with the most exasperation he’d ever seen. "Nevermind, I may have self loathing issues but I don't think I hate myself enough to be subjected to a fate as cruel as that." 

Then, without another word, he pulled up a chair beside Crow’s bed and sat. Then, he took out his journal, flipping it all the way until it opened to a page full of sticky notes.

“What’s that?”

“It’s something Sara taught me. Because I sometimes have moments when I forget about what I have and who I am, I write down reminders whenever I have a clear head. And I look at them whenever I feel lost,” Rean explained as he held up one of the sticky notes.

Crow = Good friend. You can trust him.

If Crow wasn’t going to die from a guillotine, then he was definitely going to die from being crushed by guilt. 

Rean pulled out a pen and scribbled over the sticky note. With a deadpan, he lifted the newly revised sticky note for Crow to see.

Crow = Perverted gambling addict who doesn’t know how to take care of himself. 

You can still trust him though.

One day, that last line will have to be crossed out. Still hiding his guilt behind a dumb joke, he complained, “Hey, I would think handsome and funny would make it to that sticky note!”

“You’ll have to earn it if you really want me to write that down. It can start with you actually lying down. I’ll get you breakfast.”

“Then you’ll go to school?”

Rean shook his head. “Since it is kind of my fault that you got sick—”

“I told you not to worry about that.”

“Still, I’d feel guilty for leaving you alone since this wouldn’t have happened if I wasn’t such a mess yesterday. I’ll just say I need another day to recover.”

Crow sighed, knowing there was no way to convince Rean otherwise at this point. Letting himself fall back into bed, he sighed. “When’d you become such a delinquent?”

A small laugh fell from Rean’s lips. “Well, there’s this very bad influence…”

Really. That sound and that smile were making his heart do flips. He really needed to invest in a poster of Osborne just to remind himself how to kill his heart.

Still, for this moment, Crow grinned. “Inflating my big ego is going to be your biggest mistake. Just watch.” 

It only took a few minutes for Rean to leave and come back with some soup and fruit. They didn’t say anything else, just basked in each other’s company until Crow felt his strength leave him. He rolled over in his bed and closed his eyes. Just then, he felt a hand pat his head. 

It was so nice. And strange. Why did being around this guy make Crow feel oddly content?

That was the only question that pinged around his head before he bonked out. 

---

Chapter 41 - Find the Way

[Scene 1 - Roselia’s Adventure]

Between Celdic - Barehard field studies: Roselia is fortifying the barrier so no stinking gnomes can enter (Alberich spends this time ‘reviving’ Isola. She isn’t an Awakener, so she’s essentially a mindless zombie. He uses her so he can gain access to more complicated witch spells.)

Bareahard-Nord: Roselia finds out that Emma’s mother’s grave has been disturbed. She investigates how and what happened. She sets off on a manhunt for Alberich.

Nord-Heimdallr: Still on a manhunt

Heimdallr-Legram: Roselia returns. She receives a report from Celine. She goes to Trista to see what’s going on. She wonders how she’s going to tell Emma about what happened

When Class VII returns from the Legram field study, Roselia visits. First, she checks in with the Awakener because they are most confused about that. She barges into his room (because she don’t knock) and hears a familiar voice. It’s Lianne’s voice coming from the speaker of the phone. 

Yeah, Rean and Lianne just casually call each other whenever they're both free.

Rean’s eyes sparkle around her, having a fanboy moment when he realizes who Roselia is (a trait from Kasia being a massive history nerd). 

 

[Scene 2 - Awakening]

Old Schoolhouse Investigation

They reach the final level early (because Rean had cleared two levels just before his suicide attempt two months back. 

They reach Valimar. Valimar activates.

“It’s finally nice to meet you, son of Dreichels.” 

Rean does a double take. Everyone is confused by that phrase. Emma guesses that he means in the sense that since Dreichels is like a founding father of the Empire, then all born in Erebonia are like his children. In a way. He silently thanks Emma in his head.

He sneaks in at night to visit Valimar. They chat. It turns out that Valimar has all his memories from fighting with Dreichels.

Rean didn't know that. His self loathing leaks out.

“Are you disappointed that you got stuck with a weak Awakener like me?”

“I barely know you, but I sense great potential in you. I don't regret my choice.”

• Emma also does her job and helps guide him on how to pilot a Divine Knight.

---

Chapter 42 - Miasma of Hatred

• Roer Field Study: - C
• Crow, Machias, Fie, Alisa, Elliot. At this point, Rean doesn’t even question why it seems like he’s the only one who seems to be swapping teams. Sara says, just like with Millium, his job is to show the new transferee around the ropes and class dynamics.
• Rean senses no life force in the airship again. He also notices something vaguely familiar about C's presence but can't pinpoint exactly what it is
• He gets into contact with Claire secretly and tells her that no one was on the ship when she shot it down. The terrorist leader is still alive. 

---

*Chapter 43 - Incandescent Love

Alisa notices that Rean’s carrying one of Dorothy’s books. Rean says he bumped into Dorothy and ended up asking her for some dating advice and so she gave him a BL novel.

“Sorry, is this an uncomfortable topic? You know… since you…” The words that she had feelings for him were left unsaid, though it wasn’t hard for her to pick up what he was trying to say.

“Oh, no. It’s fine,” she smiled at him to show she wasn’t bothered. “Like I said before, I’ve accepted that we just weren’t meant to be. Though…” She pointed at the book in his arms. “You made it sound like you never wanted to look for a special someone before. What’s with the change?”

"Um…” Rean scratched his cheek as he usually did when he felt awkward. “Since Anton and Sharon got together, he’s asking for some dating advice. I don’t have any experience, so I thought I’d do some research.”

“WAIT, SHARON’S DATING SOMEONE? WHO? WHEN?!” How come she hadn’t mentioned anything to her?!

“To be honest, I think she's just politely humoring him.”

“Still! For the whole time I've known Sharon, she's never dated anyone! I always thought she was too invested in her maid duty to even consider… Oh, I just have to see this guy.”

“He’s not a bad guy,” Rean awkwardly chuckled. “But, it made me realize that I’m not cut out for this love thing.”

“So you are thinking about love for yourself.”

Rean's gaze shyly shifted away as he nervously tapped on the book.

"I’ve been thinking about my future and about what I want and, while I’m still confused about most things, I think it’d be nice to have someone by my side… I know I don’t deserve it and whoever is with me doesn’t deserve it… Still, it’s a nice thought… ” He would’ve continued to mumble if Alisa didn’t lightly place her hand on his shoulder.

“I get it, you don’t need to explain any further. Honestly I’m happy to see you moving forward too,” she beamed at him before she pointed at the book again. “But… Uh… I don’t think that book is going to be much help.”

“Why not? You’ve read it before?”

Alisa failed to hide the blush on her cheeks. “I- yeah. It’s not like a dating manual, I can tell you that for sure. Plus… Wait, are you into guys?”

“Never really thought about it,” Rean shrugged. “But I don’t want to limit my options because I don’t think a lot of people would like me once they got to know me better…”

Alisa almost wanted to sigh at his idiocy. 

“Okay then, do you know your type? Like, do you know what kind of people you would be interested in?”

“Again, I haven’t really thought about—”

RING

Rean bit out a quick apology as he pulled his ARCUS out of his pocket and answered.

Like a switch turned off, his kind demeanor faded into a deadpan while his voice flattened. “What do you want, Crow?”

Alisa just stared at her friend curiously, watching him grumble, sigh, and sound generally sarcastic at the ARCUS. It was a rare side to him, usually reserved for the irresponsible ones like Crow and Sara. Honestly, it was pretty amusing how he could switch between being an overprotective friend to being someone who looked like they couldn’t care less if an idiot dropped dead in front of him. 

He was like the opposite of herself actually. She was cold on the outside, but warm on the inside. In contrast, Rean was warm on the outside, but dished out his inner cold to people he could trust to handle it. 

After a couple more minutes, Rean shut his ARCUS closed, indicating the conversation ended. His smile was full of apology toward her, but there was also a different emotion swirling in his lilac eyes that hadn’t been there before. Like a spark that usually wasn’t there.

“Sorry,” he scratched his cheek, pushing his ARCUS into his back pocket. “It seems like Crow needs me to drive him to Heimdallr again.”

It took her a little longer than she would’ve liked to process his words. 

“Huh?!” And now she was gaping because Rean just casually dropped a bomb and she didn’t understand why he was acting like it was completely normal. “Drive? Like, using Angie’s orbal bike? To Heimdallr? With Crow? Again?”

“Uh, yeah.” He actually had the audacity to look at Alisa in confusion, as if she was the one malfunctioning. “After the first time, Angelica banned Crow from driving her bike but said it was fine if I drove it. Sometimes they give him errands to do in Heimdallr and he’s not a fan of the trains, so he kind of begs me to drive him every time.”

Her eyebrows were twisted, trying to make sense of why the upperclassmen would give Crow —of all people—errands and make it so that Rean was the only person other than Angie who could drive him. “I’m guessing he rides in the sidecar while you’re driving the orbal bike?” 

And then Rean snorted, as if she said something so silly again. “You know Crow; he’s stubbornly perverted. He always insists on riding behind me and then holds onto me tightly in an attempt to tease me.” He glanced away for a second. “I got over it.”

Or so he said, but the momentary lack of eye contact was extremely odd.

Frowning, she pressed for more details, “And it’s the same thing when you guys return to Trista?”

Huh.

She could swear there was a faint blush dusting his cheeks right now.

…

Oh.

…

OH.

He was scratching his cheek again and it would've made her worry that he was about to hurt himself if not for how her focus was more on how his eyes were outright refusing to meet hers and how his face was steadily blooming red. 

“I… I don’t know how he does it, but he always manages to steal the keys from me when we’re shopping. Even with the extra effort I’m putting into my Eight Leaves training, he seems to always be able to evade my senses, so…” Alisa didn’t think she’d ever seen Rean look so embarrassed, but it made him look incredibly adorable in this moment. “He drives us back and, since the side car is usually full of the stuff he has to buy, I sit behind him.”

“...Do you have a problem with being in the backseat?”

A pause.

“It's… embarrassing?” He genuinely sounded like a lost child. “I think I’m just frustrated that he manages to pull off that trick everytime and I still can’t figure out how he manages to do it.”

Alisa just nodded along, totally not believing frustration was the only reason he was acting so flustered.

“Okay… Well, is there anything else that he does that makes you frustrated?”

He took a deep breath, closing his eyes with a slight pinch to his eyebrows. “There was one time he used my lap as a pillow. Even though we were sitting on a couch. With a bunch of pillows on it."

Yeah, she could agree that that would be frustrating. It was also suspicious because she'd never seen Crow cross boundaries like that with anyone else. Now that she thought about it, he mostly pulled off his perverted stunts when Rean was around to reprimand him.

Kind of like a puppy doing bad tricks to gain attention.

Wait. 

Did that mean the feelings were mutual..?

Holy— 

"You know you could've just pushed him off."

"I did, but he was stubborn and made a point to express how comfortable he was. And then his hair… I don't know what hair products he uses, but his hair was really soft and fluffy."

No matter how much she tried, she couldn't clear the utter look of dumbfoundedness that her face was probably showing. "Okay. Let me get this straight. He rested his head on your lap and you patted his head? Just like that?"

Suddenly his flustered face turned sour. "No. I kicked him off after that." Then the blush on his face returned. "Though I have to admit that my mood was improved compared to the morning of that day."

Alisa was blinking owlishly.

"...Does he always pull off some dumb stunts when you're feeling down?"

"Um…" He pensively looked up at the sky for a moment. "Yeah, actually. What a coincidence."

Alisa did not believe it was a coincidence.

Actually, Alisa didn't believe how she was only seeing the connection now. She actually wanted to slap herself for being so blind because all her memories of their interactions together were making more sense under this new light she just uncovered.

Also, the fact that Crow seemed to be pulling off the stupidest tricks to cheer up Rean… That sounded so adorable, what the—! 

"I should get going now," Rean muttered, turning around. "It was really nice talking to you, A—"

"Wait."

He stopped, glancing at her curiously.

"That book," Alisa pointed at the BL novel he was holding. "Try practicing some of the stuff in there on Crow."

"Huh?!"

"It's just practice. If he minds, he'll stop you. And you tell him it's revenge for messing with you all the time."

Now it was his turn to stare at the dumb book for an absurd amount of time. "Revenge," he repeated blankly. Eventually, a smile pulled at his lips again as he grinned at her. "Thanks! I might do exactly that!"

He turned away and ran, leaving Alisa to watch his fleeting back.

She sighed, holding a hand to her chest and hating how his smile made her heart leap for a moment. It really was tough to get over these feelings, huh?

Surprisingly enough though, she couldn't help but also feel happy for her ex-crush.

If a guy like him, riddled with so much trauma and insecurity and fear, could start moving forward, then Alisa could too.

 

—- Later —- 

 

“...And then they said something about how our eyes would meet and we would feel an instant connection,” Rean finished, recalling the advice the members of the Lit club gave him for dating. 

His eyes cutely flicked up to meet Crow’s for his opinion, reminiscent of the beginning of the school year he correctly thought Crow, being the impeccable student that he was, had the best advice. 

“Is that actually how love works..?”

(Nowadays, Rean was usually sending him a cold-hearted deadpan.)

“I see…” Crow purposely exaggerated the pensiveness in his tone as he raised his hand to cup his own chin, pretending to think deeply. After a few long moments, he snapped his fingers and winked. “Of course that’s how it works! Just look into my eyes and you’ll feel an instant zap~”

Aaaaand there was the aforementioned signature deadpan from his junior. It also had a cute charm to it, he couldn’t not admit. 

“I knew I shouldn't have gone to you for dating advice,” Rean sighed, turning to place his hand on the doorknob for his own room. 

“Now, now~” Crow jokingly tsked, adding a little sharpness to his voice to stop Rean from twisting his whole body away from him. “I’m just a little offended that you didn’t come to your best pal for advice first! I’m pretty sure the wisdom I’ve accrued from all my dating experience can prove to be quite valuable knowledge to you~”

“Or. You would teach me exactly what not to do.”

A bubble of laughter escaped from Crow’s throat. “Heh, it’s still valuable knowledge. Here, Lemme give you one of my five-star lessons right now, free of charge~ Step one: Trap them.”

“Huh—?!”

SLAM

Lilac eyes were impossibly wide, tracking how Crow had slammed his right forearm on the space next to his head, while the rest of Crow’s body allowed little space for him to run. The sudden action caused Rean to press his back flatly against his door while his left hand slightly trembled on his doorknob.

His heart was beating… fast. Really fast. He wasn’t sure if his body was registering Crow’s demonstration as a threat or as something else.

“Step two: Get closer.”

Their foreheads and noses were almost touching, locking his lilac eyes with an intense crimson gaze. Mesmerized and perplexed as hell how someone could look so playful and serious at the same time, he felt his body freeze in place, vulnerable to whatever advances Crow would do next.

“And step three: Kiss~”

Rean turned the doorknob, causing both their weights to push open the door. Their bodies fell to the ground in a tangled mess, and Rean’s face lit up on fire when he realized their lips—

He pushed Crow off of him. He really had to, because his heart was raging and his whole body felt so warm from such a simple touch that he didn’t know how to deal with it. Not looking at how Crow reacted because he didn’t want to make the mistake of looking at those eyes again, Rean shut the door.

And locked it.

Leaving an absolutely flabbergasted and flustered Crow to stare at Rean’s door in stupor for the next five minutes. 

---

*Chapter 44 - Hot Cocoa Coupled with Edge and Love

[Scene 1 - Train Ride to Ymir Shenanigans]

They go to Ymir for vacation. The train ride is all calm and peaceful, full of Class VII and the upperclassmen. Some are sleeping, some are playing blade, and some are just having pleasant conversation. That peace quickly breaks when Fie wakes up with a startle.

“Nightmare?” Emma asks.

“No, just a really weird dream.” Fie looks around until her gaze lands on Rean, who is about to drink a bottle of water. “I had a dream that we became Rean’s harem.”

Laura tilts her head at her. “What is a… harem?”

Gaius laughs. “It’s when one person has multiple lovers. I guess it’s not too far-fetched a dream, considering how overprotective some of us are.” 

Rean is dying in embarrassment. He only just wanted to go to sleep.

Elliot is sitting next to him, patting his back in comfort. “They’re just teasing… I think.”

Alisa slides her palm down her face. “Actually, I heard from Ferris. Apparently there’s a big rumor in our school, saying that either we’re Rean’s harem or we’re all engaging in one big polygamous relationship.”

Machias makes the mistake of drinking his coffee when hearing this and accidentally spits it out. “WHAT?”

Jusis takes a moment to look at him in disgust before saying, “It seems like they’ve ceased the gossip of who Rean will end up with and decided to just bring us all into his scandalous love life.”

Rean is still dying. “Guys, can we please move onto a different conversation—”

“First and foremost, since it’s come down to this, I need to clear things about who the main concubine is,” Crow stands up and announces with a loud voice. “It's me, so this position is already occupied. You can have battle royal for other vacant positions like second and third concubine. Good luck by the way, even me, the very first one, still can’t break Rean’s steel wall of denseness.”

Machias shouts in retaliation. “This is just ridiculous, who cares about what kind of love life Rean leads?!”

Millium bounces off her seat and raises her hand with pure glee. “Me!!”

“Me,” Crow laughs.

“Alisa, too,” Fie adds, still curled up in her seat like a cat.

“Fie?!”

Fie ignores the flustered blonde and continues. “Not to mention, Macchiato, you’re also quite the opponent. Don’t forget that speech you gave Rean back in the hospital. Also, when you first acted all hostile and tsundere so Rean would constantly think about you and how to improve the relationship between you both. Then, when his thoughts are full of you, you “warm up” to show your best sides and qualities. Very cunning, I didn't expect this from you.”

“Damn, Macchiato,” Crow whistles. “You seem quite determined, maybe you can become the second concubine.”

“CAN YOU ALL SHUT UP!”

Gaius, no matter how hard he tries, can’t hide his smile. “The winds of love seem as turbulent as all other social life aspects of our class.”

As red as a tomato, Rean hides his face in his hands. “Please stop, even though I know you’re all just teasing me…”

Fie smirks. “Yet you still fall for it~”

 

[Scene 2 - A Warm Welcome]

Greeting with the Schwarzer family. When Lucia hugs Rean, he finally musters the courage to hug her back. Lucia squeals. Elise rushes to Rean to get a reciprocated hug. Teo joins and they have this giant group family hug.

Rean’s about to suffocate, but he’s glad he’s able to make his family happy. 

Teo also talks about how Master Yun Ka-Fai has visited recently and passed a riddle on for him to solve. Since, at this point of the game, Rean has stopped running from himself, he already has an answer to the question. Teo tells him he passed and gives him a scroll. Rean is now an intermediate practitioner of the Eight Leaves One Blade school. 

 

[Scene 3 - School Festival Plans]

While the Schwarzers are busy with themselves, the rest of the class talk about what they’re doing for the school festival. Outraged after hearing the plans, Machias asks why the heck Crow isn’t involved in this.

Crow waves him off and says “It’s for the first-years to shine. If I’m on stage, then I’ll steal all the spotlight~”

Everyone sends him side eyes. “I somehow doubt that,” Jusis deadpans.

Millium is the one who hits the mark. “Oh, I get it! Crow’s just embarrassed because he joined the class late and doesn’t feel like he belongs on the stage with us!”

Crow stares at her in stupor. Where the fuck did that conclusion come from.

The idea clicks into everyone’s heads and they smirk at him. Crow still refuses, to which Fie suggests they ask Rean to ask him.

Crow says “Hold up, Rean’s opinion ain’t gonna change a thing.”

“Oh come on,” Alisa smirks. “Past all your teasing, we all know you can’t resist him. If he says he wants you to join the stage, then you’re joining the stage.”

“Yeah right.” Crow is in denial.

Everyone just smirks at him as Millium bounces up the stairs to get their remaining classmate. She explains everything and returns to the class with Rean in tow. 

“Crow, I didn’t know you felt that way about your position in the class,” Rean looks away with that damned guilty look on his face again. Crow hates it because he knows it’s genuine. “I know we tease you a lot for your questionable grades, but I’m sorry if I ever made you feel—”

“Alright, that’s enough sappiness,” Crow groans. “It’s not that I don’t feel like I belong…” A damn lie. “But I’m trying not to embarrass you guys—”

“Embarrass?” Rean loses all emotion in his voice. “Have you seen the girl’s designs which you picked? Heck, have you seen the guys’ designs?! We look like a pampered rich kid boy band!”

“Hey, guys love seeing boobs and butts. And girls love their male idols.”

“E X C U S E   M E,   W H A T.” 

Alisa, Laura, and Emma glare at Crow. “Show us the damn drafts.” 

Millium looks at them confused. “I don’t see what the problem is? If people like boobs and butts, then I totally wanna jump in on the fun!”

Fie whistles. “Oh, you’re so dead, Crow.” 

Crow pleads with his fellow upperclassmen. “Buddies, help a guy out here—”

“Actions have consequences,” Towa sighs as she shakes her head. “Actions have consequences.”

Angie barks out a laugh. “I know great minds think alike and I’m probably on board with whatever designs you came up with, but this isn’t going to be a mistake I’m going to bear!”

George stares at him with disappointment. “Sometimes I wonder how we’re still friends.”

Crow looks to his fellow guys in Class VII. “Please?

“You’ve dug your own grave,” Jusis shrugs.

“Yeah! I already can’t stand the idea of having a duet with HIM of all people, but putting ME in such snobbish garments?! Are you trying to kill my dignity?!” 

Elliot shrugs. “As long as it doesn’t impact our music performance.” 

“The winds can only help with so much.”

Rean shows him no pity. “I’ll only help if you join us in the performance.”

“Aidios’ tits, fine!”

Crow’s going to regret this, isn’t he?

 

[Scene 4 - Spilled Beans]

Elise spills a lot of secrets about Rean. For example, he helped construct a snowboarding course… though he never finished. This revelation motivates everyone to help him finish that snowboarding course and they all get coached on how to snowboard by the two siblings. 

“Oh, there was also this one time I got Rean to draw some clothes with me, the theme being what would they wear if we were in some fantasy world.”

Rean loses all color in his face. “Elise, please don’t—”

She shows them the drawing of the Unspeakable R Costume

“Wow Rean, you had quite the active imagination when you were young,” Elliot chuckled.

“It’s very… edgy,” Alisa laughed along as she playfully nudged his elbow. “I was not expecting that from you.”

He was blushing so hard. He’d take Crow reading that dumb BL novel to him over this. “I regret everything.”

When Crow is shown the picture, he smirks and grabs a pencil and paper. He draws an outfit of his own imagination and shows it to Rean. “Heh, you aren’t the only one with cool tastes, Rean.” 

“That’s dumb,” Fie points out mercilessly.

Machias agrees. “Crow, that looks like a villain from some crappy soap opera.”

“That mask is especially ugly,” Jusis nods.

“Hey! Don’t discriminate against guys with edgy imaginations! That’s what gals these days love!”

Emma stares at him in disgust. “No, that’s just utter cringe.”

Both their spirits were broken that day.

Still. “Embrace the cringe!” Crow stubbornly insists.

Rean is melting into a pool of embarrassment. However, hearing Crow laugh and defend both their edgy imaginations, it doesn’t feel so unbearable.

 

[Scene 5 - Shovel Talk]

Elise watches all their shenanigans. When she gets the chance, she pulls Crow aside. In a creepy smile that rivals Rean’s whenever he sees Patrick, she says:

“If you hurt him, I will decapitate you, feed your body to rodents, and mount your head on my wall.”

It takes Crow a long time to process such a blatant threat from someone he saw as a pampered princess type.

“What the hell did I do to you?”

“Nothing.” Elise smooths her face to a neutral expression. “I thought I would give you the obligatory shovel talk. This is nothing compared to what Mother and Father will do when they find out.”

“Shovel talk? Woah there, miss. I think you got the wrong idea. Rean and I aren't like that.”

“You… aren't?”

“We aren't! What got that idea in your head?”

Elise blushes. “Well, you're always… touching. Either both your shoulders are touching or you're leaning over him.”

The realization dawns on him like a lightning bolt striking him down. Still, he feigns confusion. “Uhh what?”

“Are you… not aware?”

“Ah, those are just casual friendly touches.”

Elise looks suspicious. “But you don’t do it as much with your other friends. And no one else crowds Rean’s personal space as much as you do. Not even Millium.”

Damn, there’s no way for him to explain his way out of this one. And, like she deduced, he didn’t even know until now. Is this circling back to that touch-starveness Vita was talking about way before? Aidios damn it.

“Look, there’s no need to be in denial.” Elise says. “I already approve of you. After all, Rean would have died if you weren’t there. And, I can see that your presence gives him comfort. I don’t mind if things don’t work out between you two, sometimes that’s just how life works out. I just… He doesn’t easily trust love. If you betray that trust, I’m afraid he’ll stop believing in himself first before he stops believing in you.” 

There is nervous laughter bubbling up his throat, but he pushes it down. Even if he wanted to entertain a romantic fling, Osborne’s assassination date is coming very soon. 

Crow is beyond love at this point. 

“Well, it’s a good thing we’re not in love.”

Elise narrows her eyes and assesses him. “Do you even know what love feels like?”

“According to certain novelists of certain genres, it’s that spark when your eyes meet.”

She sighs. “Perhaps I really have nothing to worry about for now.”

The conversation may be over, but Crow becomes more self conscious of how he views and interacts with Rean. He resolves to try to avoid him more so their relationship doesn’t spiral into something that will keep Rean attached even after Crow puts the mask on. 

 

[Scene 6 - Obligatory Bleublanc Quest]

• Blueblanc messes with the weather. Class VII goes out to investigate it. They reach the place where Rean killed two jaegers and tried to kill himself. He only reveals the first part to his classmates, not wanting to worry them more about his first suicidal attempt and that this place just makes him feel sick. 
• They fight a monster. Bleublanc reveals himself. Says that he’s impressed with how much Class VII has grown since they last met. He also calls out Rean again, saying how a certain someone wishes him the best. 

“Oi, Rean,” Fie says. “He’s making it really hard for us not to believe you’re part of this Oar-boars group.”

“It’s Ouroboros, Fie,” Emma sweat-drops. 

Rean sighs. “I’ve told you before, I’m not. You can even ask Instructor Sara and she’ll confirm.”

“How much beer did you bribe her to keep her silent?”

“Fie!”

Crow contemplates Rean’s connection with Ouroboros. This is the first time he’s hearing it, and Vita has mentioned nothing of it. Maybe he’s just friends with one of the members, just like how he’s just friends-ish with Vita…

 

[Scene 7 - Our Promised Futures]

Crow talks with his fellow upperclassmen about their plans after graduation. He hears that Angie gave her bike away to Rean (and complains why she couldn’t have given such a beaut to him). George says he’s going to visit all the major technological institutes to learn more about engineering. Towa says she’s still uncertain. 

The three do say that they’re all mostly worried about his future since his grades seem to still be on the edge of passing. 

“Nah, I’ll be fine. I make it through, you know I always do.”

“Yeah, but…” Towa sees through him. “Compared to when we first met, you look like you’ve given up.” 

Crow forces the edges of his mouth to twist into a smirk. “What’cha all talking about? I know I’m more tired, but that’s because of all this festival prep.”

“You can fool the others and yourself, but you can’t fool us,” George says. “There’s something weighing you down.”

Angie is actually clueless on this, too focused on her own issues, but she does pump out a “Yeah!”

“That goes for you as well, Angie!” Towa scolds her. “I don’t know what’s going on with the two of you, but I want to let you know you can always come to us for support. Whether you want advice or to just hang out to relieve some stress, we’ll be there for you!”

Crow is speechless.

“So please… I know our paths will diverge, but can you at least promise that we’ll graduate together?”

Towa puts her hand out. George is the first to place his hand over hers. Angie, though reluctantly, places her hand out next.

Crow doesn’t have the heart to deny them, so his hand joins them.

“To graduating together!”

Even if it’s a big fat lie.

 

*Chapter 45 - Varying Infinities

[Scene 1 - Old Memories]

“I already knew… that I’m the worst. I make trouble for everyone I meet. I’m really not worthy of their care… I keep trying to stay away from them, but they won’t stop. It’s an endless cycle of suffering for them.

“I tried— I really tried, but I can't change! I’m just… too evil—! This whole time, the person I should’ve been protecting everyone from was… myself.

“I- I’m sorry Lianne… Master Yun Ka-Fai… Schwarzers… dad… mom...

“I love you all…”

—-

It’s a bad idea, really. 

When the lights turn off and his friends and family fall asleep, he finds himself alone with his thoughts. It’s one of those sleepless nights. It’s nothing unusual, whether he’s able to fall asleep with ease is usually a hit or miss, and he tends to find himself in reveries.

This isn’t the first time he’s reminisced about this particular memory either. In fact, knowing that it’s happened doesn’t bother him as much as it used to. 

That had been one of his weakest moments—though he has admittedly had many, many weak moments. But, it’s difficult, trying to remember the feelings that had been drowning him at the time.

It’s a memory, but it’s like his past self has become a stranger. 

Has he lost a part of himself by taking a path to better himself? Is that what it means to change? To have a weakening connection to the person you once were?

Is this proof that he’s changed? That he’s better?

The urge to find out drives him to rise from his bed and sneak out from his room. His travel coat is all he needs to protect him from the biting cold.

It doesn't take long to find the place where he first tried to kill himself. Even if the past is submerged in only red and white, he can never forget the trail of broken promises leading up to here.

And yet, he feels at peace even when a despairing ghost of the past overlaps with the pure falling snow of the present.

Taking a deep breath, he draws his sword and points it at the illusion before him.

I already knew… that I’m the worst. I make trouble for everyone I meet. I’m really not worthy of their care…

“I'm not the worst. I can be worthy.”

I tried— I really tried, but I can't change! I’m just… too evil—! 

“I can change. I'm not evil.”

This whole time, the person I should’ve been protecting everyone from was… myself.

“I won't hurt them.”

“I- I’m sorry Lianne… Master Yun Ka-Fai… Schwarzers… dad… mom...

“I love you all…”

“I love—”

The sound of crunching snow halts his movements. A presence approaches, though there is no hostility. In fact, this new arrival appears familiarly lax and playful.

 

[Scene 2 - New memories]

“And here I thought you finally manned up and snuck into one of the fair maiden’s rooms. What a shame— ACHOO!”

Rean sheaths his sword and turns around. Crow stands not too far away, all in his shivering and runny-nosed glory (in all honesty, he couldn’t sleep after his conversation with his friends and decided to take a stroll).

Ignoring the poor attempt to tease him, Rean takes pity and shrugs his coat off. “Someone seems out of his element,” he smirks as he offers his coat to other.

Crow accepts it and wraps it around his shoulders, although it's a bit too narrow for his broader shoulders. “Heh, well unfortunately, Ol’ Crow didn't grow up on a freezing mountain of death. I'm more of a summer and beach person.”

“For the bounce vectors?”

“You know me so well~” Crow flashes him a grin and pats him on the back. “But anyway, what are you doing all alone on this death mountain?”

“Just reminiscing.”

“Oh, about the jaegers that attacked you here?”

“Ah…”

“Ah? Oh, there’s more to that story, huh? You don't have to tell me if you don't want to.”

“It's okay. Compared to what you've seen from me, the truth shouldn't really surprise you.”

He tells Crow about the first time he tried to kill himself. Things are silent between them for a minute. No doubt, Crow is probably thinking he’s pathetic for not learning his lesson the first time—

“Hey,” Crow says. “How about we replace your bad memory of this place with a good memory? I mean, I think we already did it with the class earlier today, but another good to cancel the negative can’t hurt.”

Rean looks back in confusion. 

Crow decides to distract them from all this serious stuff and have fun. To show off how much of a ‘senpai’ he is, he suggests doing a little fun sharpshooting. Rean raises his brow, stating the obvious that he doesn’t shoot. Crow responds by saying this is where the senpai part comes in and he teaches Rean how to aim.

They aim and miss. Rean notices that Crow is shaking and says, “Self-proclaimed expert, looks like you’re shaking a lot.”

“Sh- Shut up! Like I said, I ain’t great with cold weather!” He shifts his position, moving closer to Rean. “If you’re gonna complain about it, then I’m just gonna steal your body heat.”

His first instinct is to shrug Crow off but Rean feels comfortable and relaxes, letting loose some tension.

“It’s all about focus.”

Rean shoots and he hits the target. “I admit, it’s interesting using a gun, but I can’t say it’s my preference. How about you? When did you learn to use a gun?”

“My old man taught me how to shoot,” Crow laughs but there’s an edge of bitterness to it. “Hunting was a big thing in my home, back before…”

Rean stiffens. 

So close like this, he can feel a lick of hatred ooze out from the other. It’s raging and pure, not at all influenced by the curse. He remembers now why C’s miasma of hatred felt so familiar. It’s the same as the one that had been billowing around Crow during their fight back in the Old Schoolhouse.

C.

.

.

.

Crow is C.

Crow notices how he’s shaking and is like "Oh, look who's getting cold now."

It gets a laugh out of Rean, not because it's particularly funny but because Crow is such a chill guy. It makes him wonder how this could possibly be a terrorist… but he knows that his dad’s policies are ruthless for a reason. There’s a reason why there are terrorists hellbent on seeing his downfall. 

The fact that such a silly guy like Crow had to be caught up in it— became a terrorist leader for it… It’s tragic.

Rean smiles. It’s the fakest smile he’s ever mustered since Legram.

…

 

[Scene 3 - Confirmation]

Early next morning

Rean asks Millium for information about C. He says Lechter’s fine with her telling him. (A lie.)

Millium is suspicious, doesn’t want to say anything because Rean could know C which is why he wants information. But then realizes that the goal is to recruit him anyway, so it’ll be better if he knows the truth.

And so Rean gets crucial information needed which confirms his suspicions about Crow being C. And it makes him feel worse when he remembers telling Claire that C didn’t die back in Roer. He kinda ruined Crow’s plans already, huh.

It’s also a little funny because he’s sure if Millium could connect all the dots, she could figure it all out, too. But she tends to take a while to find the answer.

Millium says that in return for giving this information, he has to promise to join the Ironbloods.

He is so confused. “Why would you care about that?”

“Because it’s my mission!”

He is more confused because why would Dad give her a mission like that?

 

[Scene 4 - Past or Present Bonds]

Everyone else wakes up. The class is supposed to leave. Rean asks to have one more day with his family, by himself. Sara says why the hell not and lets him stay with his family one more day.

Rean questions what to do. What Crow and his allies were doing, it was all part of Osborne’s plan in the long run, wasn’t it? All the conflict was needed for them to end this stupid curse over the country. To try to convince Crow to stop would be going against his dad’s plan wouldn’t it? It would be a betrayal to the father who supported him for all these years and went along with his selfish wishes.

He couldn’t do that to his dad…

But what about Crow? The ILF made it clear that they hate the chancellor and want to see him fall. But such a task was impossible. Dad couldn’t die through normal means. If they ever succeeded in their goal… It would only be all for nothing. All their pain, hatred, and efforts were already for nothing. If they died for their cause, their lives and deaths too would all be for nothing. They would only be a footnote in history textbooks.

For Crow to destroy himself when Rean just watched and did nothing… It would be a massive disservice to the guy who saved him and helped him keep moving forward. Rean was far too indebted to Crow to just let him fall to a meaningless fate.

Plus, just thinking about Crow dying…

THUMP

…Rean wasn’t sure he’d be able to handle it.

Dilemma. He was going to have to choose between Dad and Crow. Between loyalty and selfishness. 

The answer should’ve been obvious.

Deeply sighing, he rolled off his bed and landed on his feet. With determined strides, he quickly passed his door and knocked on the door across from it. Lazy footsteps approached the opposite end of the door before it opened, revealing his tired-looking friend.

“Yo, Rean,” Crow yawned. “What’s u—”

His voice was silenced by the tight embrace he was suddenly pulled into. Rean didn’t even mean to hug too tightly, but he was only just realizing how much he needed this. The warmth of the other’s body, the strength from the awkward pat on his head, and the—

“Woah there! I thought for sure that the cologne I put on said that it’d make me a chick magnet. Instead I find a hot dude in my arms. Well, not that I’m complaining~”

—the stupid joke.

(And this stupid smell. What even was this? Some kind of blend of citrus, cedarwood, sandalwood and musk..? This guy was impressing no one.)

This was Crow. This was C.

To think that all of this could be soon out of his reach made Rean realize that this silly trickster was… important to him.

Eventually, the rest of the class leaves Ymr. Rean sits on his bed in contemplation. After minutes and an hour, he reaches the Enigma under his bed. 

He calls Osborne.

.

.

.

[A/N:] No more Rean’s POV until end of school festival. Crow takes main POV until then

 

Chapter 46 - To Resist Loneliness

[Major Point 1 - Distance]

Crow takes the main POV for the school festival prep and the going ons during it. His classmates sense that he and Rean are both obviously attracted to each other and tell Crow to make a move. 

But, he notices that Rean has grown somewhat distant and decides it's better that way. Easier, too. He finally doesn’t have to get distracted. Not like he even believes Rean has feelings back, but he tries to avoid Rean to avoid any potential feelings from blooming before the big date with his sniper. 

Crow does also have to deal with how he’s growing more attached to this class as they continue to work closely for the concert. Less interaction with Rean actually means more interaction with their groupie. 

 

[Major Point 2 - Unwanted Love]

He’s actually surprised that he can feel warmth that reminds him of his old home. Crow does because he's greedy and wants to fill the void left by his deceased grandfather and altered home. It wants to pretend he can have everything: his friends and the revenge plan. Though he knows it won't last long and the crash will hit hard. 

Class VII was going to be the end of him.

His friends push Crow to confess his (obvious) feelings. (Jusis is straightforward as always).  Even if he was in love, he truly wonders if someone like him is capable of sending genuine, warm feelings. He keeps being in denial, but he notices that his thoughts turn to a certain goody-two-shoes more often now that they don’t interact as much anymore.

School feels a little more boring now with this unexpected development. He kind of wants to talk—

No. And, he doubts this is love. At most, he’ll accept it as a silly little crush. 

Days pass with minimal interaction with Rean. He asks the rest of Class VII if they noticed any changes in Rean. They say he’s mostly the same, though maybe preoccupied with his thoughts.

It’s setting Crow more on edge than the impending assassination date. 

Eventually, he forces him to approach Rean and ask to play Blade in the park outside. Rean agrees, though he’s notably more muted than usual. It’s a quiet game. Well, until Patrick approaches them. 

"Schwarzer, may I speak to you privately?"

Rean didn't spare him a glance, too focused on the blade game he was playing with Crow. "Give me a moment, I'm about to win."

"Hey now, don't count me out just yet," Crow huffs.

Since Rean is so focused, Patrick decides to say it.

"I want to date Elise."

Rean's hand stills… then places a card down. "Bolt."

"Dammit! That's unfair, you really had all the bolts in your hand!" Crow sighs, throwing his cards down. "Alright then. You win, you can ask me for any favor you want~"

Rean not so subtly side eyes Patrick.

"Help me hide a dead body."

"Eep!"

"Your wish is my command, partner~ In fact, I already know a place to dump the body!"

Rean smiles and it gets Crow feeling things again. 

Patrick cries to himself.

It’s stuff like this, Rean’s duality that Crow enjoys seeing. It’s been too much of the kind, responsible gofer these days, he’s actually been missing when Rean takes that no-nonsense attitude. 

Ugh, why is he like this?

Rean leaves, satisfied, though doesn’t indulge Crow in his usual bullshit. He just goes straight back to his dorm. Crow sighs and turns to Patrick.

“Hey, what makes you think you’re in love with his sister anyway?”

“She’s pretty.”

“And..?”

Patrick blushes. “I have no obligation to explain it to you!”

“Or maybe you can’t think of anything else.” Crow shakes his head. “How shallow, man.”

“Shut up, you! I just— She makes me want to love myself!”

Crow leans away from him. “Sheesh, I didn’t think you could get more self centered…”

“That’s not it, let me finish!” Patrick shouts before he realizes they’re in public. He leans closer and continues in a lower voice. “When you love someone so much, you notice how much you love or don’t love about yourself. Now, I don’t have massive self-loathing issues like a certain someone we both know, but even I can admit that I’m not proud of who I once was—”

“Yeah, you were insufferable.”

“—ANYWAY, meeting Elise made me want to be a better version of myself. She makes me want to be someone that I can love, so that I can feel comfortable with her loving me back. It’s that feeling that you’ve finally connected with yourself, that realization that this person accepts you for who you are and who you want to be… These things improve your life when you were alone. They bring you peace. That’s…” Patrick coughs and realizes he says the most sappiest thing ever. “..Love.”

“Damn.”

Crow concludes that love will always evade him.

He can’t love himself. He can’t strive to be better when he has a ticket to Gehenna calling his name. No one will like him once he reveals he’s a terrorist leader.

And, no matter whatever these feelings in his chest are, he’s not going to throw away Osborne’s assassination for something like a crush. 

He really fucked himself over, huh?

---

Chapter 47 - Unified Chaos

“Drinks are on me! Some day…”

Class VII made Instructor Sara regret those words when they took her up on that offer on the day before their concert to ease their nerves. It was mostly Crow’s idea, saying that they should relax before their big day by “drinking our asses off!”

For obvious reasons, the idea was rejected by Rean, but then Millium reformed the idea into something they could all agree on.

“Let’s party at Heimdallr!”

And so that was how Instructor Sara lost her next paycheck and how the students of Class VII found themselves all dressed nicely as they dined at one of the more expensive restaurants in Heimdallr. 

It was a mistake.

“Let me help you with that,” Rean offered, springing up to his legs as he approached a patron cleaning up some food that fell on the floor. He was quickly rewarded with a thankful nod as his arm reached out to lend a hand.

Alisa slumped back in her chair, sighing as she surveyed her classmates. Fie was curled up on her chair like a cat, sleeping until their food was ready. Millium was furiously playing a deadly game of tic-tac-toe on the child’s menu with Elliot, who seemed to be getting demolished in the game if the girl’s cries of victory was any indication. The volume was also rising around Jusis and Machias’ area, no doubt arguing about who sang better during the duet, and it was loud enough to shake the table as much as Laura and Gaius’ current arm wrestle. Meanwhile, Crow was around here somewhere, flirting with some girls and inevitably failing to actually pick them up.

It was a mess, a perfect reflection of the restaurant bill that would surely cause Instructor Sara to force herself to forget by digging into her emergency stash of beer. On the bright side, with all the noise and chaos they were creating, the restaurant staff were most likely trying their hardest to deliver their food so that they could leave early.

“This is less like a celebration and more like the usual dinner at our dorm.” With how all her classmates were all over the place, all distracted in their own little worlds, the idea that they were all able to unite and perfect their concert rehearsal was almost a miracle. 

“It’s better this way, don’t you think?” Sitting beside her, Emma softly giggled, closing her book and setting it to the side. 

“Well, yeah.” There was no argument there. Alisa did prefer it when everyone just acted like themselves. “But… This is a celebration. I was expecting something a little different from usual, like we would do something more group-oriented…”

“What are you talking about?” Millium exclaimed, a grin plastered on her face despite her confusion. “We’re all eating together! And it’s different this time because we’re eating different food this time!”

“You got me there,” Alisa sighed fondly as she took another glance at all her classmates at the table. Though… she noticed Laura and Gaius’ arm wrestle ended and something was off with the latter’s expression. Turning her attention to her foreign friend, she asked, “What’s wrong?”

Gaius closed his eyes for a moment, taking a long sip out of his glass of water before he replied, “It appears a woman with an unsavory wind around her has set her sights on Rean.”

Fast enough to give whiplash, everyone’s heads snapped in the direction of where their leader was positioned. He was still talking with the stranger who had spilled her food, even taking a seat on the stool beside her to continue the conversation. It seemed like typical Rean behavior: talk with whoever he helped to make sure everything was fine.

It seemed like everything was fine with this picture.

But then…

But then— 

The stranger placed a hand on Rean’s knee.

And then Class VII’s table became eerily silent. Eight pairs of eyes were now staring at the stranger’s back, hoping that their piercing gazes were sharp and tangible enough to burn holes into the stranger’s body.

They were no strangers to Rean being hit on. Good-looking, nice personality, will literally die for you; his characteristics were practically irresistible. They were only impeded by Rean's insurmountable obliviousness, an unfortunate result of his low self-esteem. At this point, they were just making bets for the day someone from Thors ( *cough* *cough* Crow ) finally got through his dense skull. 

But this stranger was old. Probably twenty years older than the eldest of their group. Too old unless they somehow fell so hopelessly in love with each other that even the universe couldn’t stop them— but they just met.

“Maybe she’s being friendly?” Elliot optimistically suggested, not willing to determine one’s guilt from just a glance.

“Ah yes. I, too, place my hands on people’s knees as a friendly gesture,” came Jusis’ sardonic response as he raised his glass to his lips.

Machias rolled his eyes and sneered. “Like you’re ever friendly.”

“If that’s friendly, then I’d rather not be.”

They continued watching the pair for a few minutes, making small comments here and there about the situation but never intervening because such a minor offense didn’t warrant a head rolling to the ground. 

“I wonder what they’re talking about to have a conversation this long,” Alisa hissed, growing more impatient with every tick from her watch while nothing about the situation changed. 

“Mmm…” Millium scrunched her eyes, eyebrows deeply creasing her forehead. “Something about the School Festival? I guess the woman is looking forward to seeing it, but it’s kinda hard to lip read at this angle.”

“You can lip read?!”

“Of course! What kind of self respecting spy doesn’t know how to lip read?”

That conversation ended quickly, mostly because this was going to be the most logic they could get out of the girl and because— 

The woman’s hand moved up to Rean’s thigh.

The action was outrageous enough for gasps to escape some classmate’s throats. Venomous green eyes from Fie even snapped open to glare at the sight, no longer pretending to be sleeping.

If looks could kill, this woman would die nine times.

“I know he’s oblivious as hell, but I think even he would know something’s up,” Fie commented, triggerhappy fingers reaching for her gunblades.

“W- Well, he does appear agitated now,” Emma pointed out. 

True. Behind Rean’s polite smile was a faint twist in his lips, a sign that he was somewhat uncomfortable. That he was faking it. But, no stranger would be able to capture such a subtle difference.

"Ooh!" Millium excitedly whispered. "I think Rean's saying he's going to leave!" 

Just as those words left her mouth, the teen did indeed push his chair back and gently shrugged the hand off his knee. His feet planted to the ground as he rose up to stand.

The collective sigh of relief from Class VII was palpable.

But then the woman grabbed his arm, stopping him in place, closing the space between them just a little. If it was just a bit more, Class VII would've sprang to action, weapons blazing.

"I think there's something wrong with me because I see a loooot of red now," Millium calmly admitted with an eerie tone. "I don't know why seeing this makes me feel… I don't know."

Laura softly tapped her fingers along the hilt of her blade. "It's anger. I also have the same feelings, so I don't think you have a problem."

"Or maybe there's just a problem with all of us," Alisa muttered, fingers twitching in a way that was similar to how she usually drew her bow and arrows.

"Well, it makes sense. Rean did help us out a bunch." Emma chuckled nervously, trying to placate the dangerous auras of her classmates. “But I don’t think he’ll appreciate us lynching the woman.”

“The winds would forgive us for such a minor offense, so I’m sure Rean will eventually forgive us, too.”

“I hate to be the voice of reason,” Fie said. “But I don’t think we need to do anything. Look.”

Too focused on the woman, they almost didn’t see Crow break away from all the ladies he was flirting with, making a beeline toward the pair. In one instant, the woman’s hand was only touching air as Crow slung his arm around Rean’s shoulder and started guiding them back to the class’ table.

“And he says he doesn’t have any feelings for Rean,” Jusis huffed. “Fools. Both of them.”

---

Chapter 48 - The Night Before We Let Go

• Show Emma is looking for Celine but can't find her  
• Crow doesn’t spend any of his tickets on Rean. He’s surprised that Rean doesn’t seek him out either.
• When Crow asks Rean to grab the clothes for the concert, he tells him to get someone to help him. Rean doesn’t and Crow catches him, begrudgingly ending up riding with him

During the festival and all the attractions, the whole class tries to get the two of them to do events lmao. Even the upperclassmen help. However, Crow doesn’t spend any of his tickets on Rean. He’s surprised that Rean doesn’t seek him out either. 

(Also offhandedly mention that Emma is looking for Celine but can’t find her).

For the dance, Crow is content to just bask in the shadows. He’s surprised this is the moment Rean finally approaches him. He tells him to find a partner. Rean says he just wants to talk with him and leads him into a private area.

Crow dreads this. Though the timing and the behaviors prior are awfully strange.

Being led away from prying eyes and seeing Rean act so anxious to say something, Crow honestly believed his junior was going to confess his feelings for him.

And… well… he was hoping to avoid this. Especially today, considering he was going to ditch his school persona and shoot the chancellor tomorrow.

It sucked so much because Crow really liked Rean. He couldn’t deny it anymore. What started as a small interest in the seemingly only normal guy in Class VII somehow blossomed into a merciless hurricane that pulled him closer every time mirth crossed those lilac eyes, every time smiles tugged onto those tempting lips, and every time snark left that usually polite voice.

Really, it was completely his fault for getting close. If he wasn’t such an idiot, he wouldn’t have been granted the pleasure of meeting a guy who gave him a challenge with each conversation, adventure, and fight. Sometimes he looked forward to hanging out with Rean (and consequently, Class VII and his supposed friends) as much as he looked forward to shooting Osborne.

It was a damned shame. If Crow wasn’t just a simple guy driven by revenge, then maybe he would’ve considered starting an actual relationship.

But it was too late now. He’d hurt and nearly hurt many of his friends and their families, including Rean. He’d never be forgiven. Rean would finally know what a real monster looked like and never think again that he and Crow could even compare. 

There was no turning back. He couldn’t stop anymore. 

When Rean finally snapped out of his silence and opened his mouth to say whatever words, Crow used the time to decide whether he would say:

“You sure you don’t want to spend this night with a girl you like?” Crow repeated again as he weakly attempted to get out of his grasp. “I’m sure any person you choose would be completely willing to dance with you~”

“I just want to talk to you,” Rean said with a pleasant smile, more to reassure the other than anything else. 

Crow knew him well enough that this smile was usually used to hide something, and so a worried frown tugged at his lips. “What’s wrong?” The resistance against Rean’s grip faded away as he quickened his pace and walked side-by-side with the raven to get a better look at his face.

Something about his action made Rean’s posture relax.

Taking a couple steps back, Rean raised his eyes to meet Crow’s. They were determined. Full of fire. Resolution. He’d never seen Rean look so alive.

Rean takes a deep breath in—

This was going to be the worst day of his life.

—And a deep breath out:

 

“Chancellor Osborne wants to die.”

 

---

Chapter 49 - Dangerous Confessions

[Scene 1 - Revelation]

“Can you repeat that?” Crow asked, wondering if he was hallucinating. After all, why would Rean—

“Chancellor Osborne wants to die.” 

He apparently did hear right.

And it made no sense at all.

Noun. Verb. Verb. How could such a blunt, simple sentence make no sense?

Slowly, he shifted his eyes and rested his gaze on the face of his junior. Rean looked too peaceful and calm. 

“He’s already set up a stage to be killed on. During his speech, he will be out in the open. It would be so easy for anyone to shoot him... It looks like a good opportunity for anyone who hates him...”

No, that was the plan, to get Osborne out in the open to shoot him. Even that bastard couldn’t have thought that far with the whole mess going on domestically and internationally.

But then, why was Rean talking like the plan had been seen through? How did Rean know this? How could Rean act like he could understand Osborne’s actions? If this was true, wouldn’t this information be better told to someone else? 

“Why are you telling me this?” was the question he settled for.

Sorrowful lilac eyes locked with his own. Crow was still too shocked to even breathe properly at the moment. 

Chuckling nervously, Rean finally spoke. “Because I don’t want you to shoot him tomorrow.” A brief, anxious pause. “I believe that’s your intention. Right, C?”

What?

He couldn’t even find the energy to pretend that those words were wrong. Crow had seen the teen act doubtful about his own answers and actions. His supposed empty heart had always swelled with pride whenever the timid boy acted with confidence. Right now, Rean was resolute with his confrontation, and the terrorist leader couldn’t find it in himself to have that resolve be broken by a lie.

So he acted in accordance with his true self. The jig was up, so why continue pretending?

“How did you find out?” A distant and cold tone leaked into his voice as ruthless crimson eyes pinned the teen in front of him. He had always known it was a bad idea to befriend Towa, Angie, and George. It had been an awful idea to get close to Rean, gain a stupid crush on the idiot, and gain bonds with Class VII. Only complete idiots would create a dream that was inevitably going to be forgotten and lost, and Crow was one of them. 

He regretted everything.

It was a day early, but he might as well cut all his ties right now. Even if he wasn’t ready.

He expected Rean to respond with equal seriousness and hostility. Instead, the boy was silent, and his eyes were wide with surprise. 

Was he scared? Damn, somehow the thought of his junior fearing him was worse than being hated. But, on a closer look, Crow could see a faint blush—

Rean coughed into his fist and seemingly regained his composure. But the blush didn’t go away. In fact, it only got more intense. “S—Sorry, what did you say? I got a little distracted…”

As if it would be that easy to get distracted during a serious conversation with a terrorist leader who planned to kill someone tomorrow! But here Rean was, doing exactly that.

Stupefied, it took Crow a little longer than he would have liked to realize what exactly Rean was distracted by. At the realization, however, the spell broke. 

He no longer felt distant or that his lie—his dream—was broken at this moment. At this moment, he wasn’t C, the terrorist leader with some side-gig as a student. Right now he was just Crow Armbrust, a professional slacker who did some shady stuff on the side, a friend to people somehow crazier than himself, and a guy who maybe wouldn’t mind forsaking blind revenge to stay with the idiot in front of him. 

Dear Aidios, it shouldn’t be possible for someone to still have a crush on him while knowing about his secret identity. By now, he should have lost one friend and one heart. 

And yet…

And yet— 

“Oh, Rean,” Crow smirked and wriggled his eyebrows, the actions came back to him so naturally . All stiffness from his previous shock left him as he swaggered toward his junior, who responded by stepping back. “You couldn’t have possibly been distracted by my hot, charming gaze, could you?” 

How can you like me after knowing who I am and what I’ve done?

Rean’s face only grew more red. Whether it was due to embarrassment or Crow’s behavior was unknown. Their eyes locked again before he shifted his eyes to the side. “I… I must admit, you were looking fairly handsome there.”

“How rude. You don’t think I look handsome all the time?” he chuckled playfully before a hint of seriousness was added to his voice. “Don’t you think there might be something wrong with you for still liking me while knowing that I’m evil?”

Immediately, the blush faded and Rean frowned. “I know evil. You aren’t evil.”

I am.

“Planning an assassination attempt on the chancellor sounds pretty evil to me.”

The other was silent for a while, as if he was ruminating over his next words. “You can be a good person and still perform evil actions.” His lips twisted into a bitter smile. “Though I’m rather tired of seeing people like that. I don’t want to see you end up like that.” 

Crow chuckled humorlessly, stubbornly putting up a fight he had little energy to participate in. He still had a chance to change his mind again. “You really think I would give up my six year-long revenge campaign just because you said so?”

“No. At the end of the day, the decision is yours to make. I just want you to know that if you shoot the Chancellor tomorrow, in the heart or even the head, he won’t die. War will spark, many will die, and your future will be robbed. All of it will be for nothing.” 

Where did the confidence to say such lunacy and ask Crow to believe him come from? Rean was no liar, and he wouldn't accuse anyone of such allegations if his evidence was weak. Whatever he was saying was a truth he firmly believed in.

How else could Rean be certain Crow was C? How else could he know that Osborne would survive the assassination attempt tomorrow?

He had to be part of an intelligence network… And he had to be close with Osborne—

"You're an Ironblood," Crow whispered, breathless.

Solemnly, Rean nodded, and it felt like an anvil just dropped onto his gut. Still, his blood was singing to the thrill and utter horror that he could only focus on the fire burning behind those lilac eyes.

Goddess, he wanted that handsome face to look at him with that passion for a little bit longer—

Crow stopped.

This was not the time for those thoughts!

"I know this is a recipe for us to be sworn enemies, but I want to let you know I haven't told anyone of my discovery. I also won't call anyone to capture you. If, even after hearing everything I have to say, and you still go through your plans, I want to let you know that I won't stop you. In the end, it's your choice… And that choice won't stop Osborne's plans at all."

Crow still couldn’t find any words to say as Rean continued to stare at him with that burning determination. "Objectively speaking, as an Ironblood, I have nothing to gain from stopping you." A blush returned to his cheeks. "But… As your friend… I can't just knowingly let you make a drastic decision without letting you know how futile it is."

Pounding. Pounding. Crow’s heart was pounding furiously. It wasn’t anger or hatred. It wasn’t fear or desperation. It was—

This was—

A million words want to pour out of his soul, but the ones that come out are:

“Can I dance with you?”

 

[Betrayal]

What.

Rean’s eyes snapped open in shock. He expected to find the usual playful and joking expression that Crow always wore, but he was met with deep, serious crimson eyes that were only focused on the only person in front of him. 

And the first thing he thought of was

“Why?”

Rean was at peace with this whole conversation. He chose this. He chose Crow over his dad. and was jeopardizing his whole future and their whole plan for this. He was fine, but only because he had a whole month to think about it. He even let his dad know in advance.

Crow… was quite literally having his whole world flipped upside down. To learn that his goal would be futile, that his friend was his sworn enemy, that his life meant nothing… How could his response not be an outlash of anger or pure disbelieve, but instead—

“I don’t know if you’re acting oblivious or you just want me to say it.” Crow’s laugh was unusually husky and it made Rean’s heart beat like crazy. “I like you.”

Oh.

In the back of the dark recesses of his mind, he kind of knew that. Crow was always invading his personal space, trying to make him laugh, and giving him special attention—clear signs of some sort of affection or attraction. However, Rean didn’t want to believe it. 

He’d barely just accepted his adoptive family’s love for him. 

To hear Crow’s gave him mixed feelings. On one hand, his mouth was smiling from joy because it should’ve been impossible for Crow to return his feelings, and yet they were living in the impossible right now. On the other hand, Rean wasn’t ready to receive more affection and had extreme trouble believing those words.

Settling on making a frown, Rean shifted his eyes away from Crow’s. 

“No you don’t. I just revealed to you that I’m an Ironblood. You should hate me, right?”

Crow wasn’t even upset by this response. With a breathless chuckle, he reached his hand out to gently stroke his raven locks of hair. Such an affectionate gesture. One that Rean was weak to.

“I know. I wish I didn’t. It just makes me feel even more insane.” These honest words were as cruel as they were tender. “I already had my whole life planned out: Settle the score with Osborne, clean up my mess, do Vita a favor, and then die and be forgotten like my grandfather. I didn't need stupid feelings to get in the way."

So Crow’s feelings for him were unplanned. Unwanted, in a sense, but uncontrolled.

“Then why are you letting yourself indulge in such feelings?” 

Crow chuckled, amused. “Sheesh, what’s with that question? Aren’t you supposed to be trying to convince me to not shoot Osborne because feelings? Man, if you just used your sex appeal to your advantage, I would’ve totally destroyed my sniper by now~”

Lilac eyes glanced back, although embarrassed. “As much as I would love for you to quit being a terrorist, I wouldn’t want you to have regrets because of some silly feelings toward someone like myself. I’ll accept whatever your decision is as long as you have no regrets.”

“Hmm… Let’s just say…” Crow used one of his hands to cup Rean’s chin and slightly raised it up. “I might want to try out this teenage fling as much as I want to kill Osborne. This might be our last day we get the chance. I’d regret it if I didn’t try, right?”

It was more of these feelings that couldn’t be explained. Feelings that he could barely accept.

But… Rean truly wanted this, too. He didn’t want either one of them to regret anything, so he could let himself accept this. 

His heart beat faster and faster as Crow’s face came up to his own, still pinned by an intense, crimson gaze. Though, he still squeezed his eyes shut, body tensing at the idea of being on the receiving end of affection.

This was going to be a big leap out of his comfort zone.

"I—I don't know what I'm doing…" 

Crow smirked. "Yeah, me neither. Especially with this whole romance thing—I just copied something I saw in Dorothea's BL novel.”

"You're ruining the mood," Rean opened his eyes and sighed in exasperation, feeling his body melt a little as Crow grabbed his hand and reached for his hip. He was just a bit comforted by the fact that even though they revealed they liked each other, they were still the same.

To the music, they swayed. 

"Heh, when do I not ruin the mood? I'm trying to convince you that maybe I'm not as appealing as you thought."

And swayed. 

“I’m trying my hardest to change your mind. You’re trying you hardest to change my mind. What a bunch of idiots we are. We might just get nowhere if we keep dancing around the topic.”

“The push and pull is what makes this fun though. But, you’re right. We should just move forward and figure out what to do afterwards.”

Rean’s eyes snapped open in shock as his feet no longer moved to the rhythm of the song. He expected to find the usual playful and joking expression that Crow always wore, but he was met with deep, serious crimson eyes that were only focused on the dance partner in front of him. 

“Can I kiss you?”

Struck by that soul-piercing gaze, he didn’t realize he was maneuvered to a tree until he felt his back press against the base of one. Cautiously watching Crow place a hand flat against the tree, beside his head, Rean couldn’t help but tense up with bated breaths as he tried to find the words to say.

He couldn’t find any. Just feelings that couldn’t be explained. 

So he moved forward.

Crow moved his hand from Rean’s waist to clutch at raven locks of hair, gently tilting his head to the right. Not long after, he closed the distance between them, pressing his lips to Rean’s. 

So, this was what a real kiss was like. A kiss not borne out of spite or accidents, but of…

Rean didn’t really know what he was feeling. Logically, he knew that Crow was just putting pressure on his lips but it felt strange… A rush of helplessness was flowing through his veins, leaving behind a trail of warmth that was making him feel boneless. He let the arms circling around his waist push their bodies closer as he was kissed again by impossibly soft lips and tickled by Crow’s gentle breath beneath his nose.

Then, he felt a nibble—

“Don’t get ahead of yourself,” Rean's face was still hopelessly flustered as he hushed Crow with a chaste kiss on the cheek. After a couple of seconds, he retreated, and raised his hand to rub the back of his head. “Maybe, if ‘Crow Armbrust’ and ‘Rean Schwarzer’ aren’t consumed by their secret identities tomorrow morning, then we can do more. But tonight, I don't want to influence your decision any more than I might have so far…”

Crow forced himself to chuckle, to pretend he wasn't affected. "Damn Rean, you're so cruel. Are you seriously going to leave me like this, craving for more?"

"O- Oh." Red was always a good look on Rean, but Crow thought this shade of red on his face was probably the best look on him. "Then should we—?"

“I’m just kidding,” Crow laughed, rubbing Rean’s head, trying to pretend his heart wasn’t about to explode from his chest. “You’re right. We should think about our choices tonight. We gotta make sure our tomorrows aren’t something we regret, yeah?”

Rean smiles with a nod. “Yeah.”

 

[Scene 2 - Vision]

The skies were clear. The sun was shining. This was a beautiful morning.

All ruined by Osborne’s harsh voice echoing through all the speakers and radios in the city of Heimdallr. Oh well, Crow was a patient person. He set up his sniper, gazed through the scope with an eerie calm as Osborne’s chest was dead center of his shot.

This was his choice.

This was his future.

This was what he wanted.

“...to deliver unto Crossbell a swift response to their impudence, and to form a bulward against the threat from the East—”

“Go finish your speech in hell.”

 

— BANG —

[Scene 3 - Rebellion]

Crow wakes up, mildly annoyed that his dream was just a dream. Now he has to do all that again, oh just let this hell end already. 

He changes his clothes, grabs a bunch of things, and opens his door to leave. The meeting with the ILF was soon. At the same time, he sees the door directly across slowly open, showing his junior, fully clothed in an outfit that isn’t a red Thors uniform or his casual clothes.

Was it strange that his first thought was that Rean was leaving him, just like everyone else, even though he had every intention of leaving too?

“So is this your answer, Rean? Or do you go by a different name now?” Crow asked.

Rean closed his eyes, taking a couple of deep breaths. After what seemed like forever, he opened his eyes, revealing the same bright, determined lilacs from last night. 

His breath was stolen away. Crow would never get used to seeing this guy, who used to be so full of self-loathing and uncertainty, harden his resolve and free himself from doubt.

“My name is Rean Schwarzer, a proud member of Class VII. So yes, I would like you to keep calling me that. As for my answer…”

He stepped forward and grabbed Crow’s wrist, making his palm face upward. He placed his other hand on top of Crow’s and a familiar, cold weight was pressed against his skin.

“I’ll be gone for a few hours, but I’ll be coming back. To see your trick, and...”

A blush overcame Rean’s features as he withdrew his hand, revealing a single 50 mira coin in Crow’s palm. 

“... to collect you.”

“Even if I decide to be C?”

Even if I show you what a real monster I am?

“No matter who you act like, I will get you. All of you.” He cracked a gentle smile. "Because I want you in my life."

Crow let out an exasperated sigh. "How can you say that with a strai—"

He cut off his voice at the feeling of two hands grabbing his shoulders. Before he could process what was happening, a gentle warmth was pressed against his lips. 

“Well, you taught me how to be selfish.”

Just as he could even think about kissing back, Rean pulled back, blushing madly, before he turned around and quickly walked toward the stairs. 

Crow sighed, watching the fleeting back of his junior disappear down the stairs.

This feeling…

The safety… The warmth.

These were addicting feelings.

These feelings were strong enough to make him act like an idiot.

 

…

 

Was it true then?

 

Had he fallen in love?

 

There was no other reason why he was thinking about making the dumbest decision of his life and throwing away six years of work for a dumb impulse. What was it that Patrick said again? That love made you want to be a better person? So dumb…

.

.

.

Oh well. 

There were worse things than love that he could gamble on.

.

.

.

Letting out another sigh, his legs raced down the stairs until he caught up to his junior, their bags bumping into each other. Weaving their fingers together and seeing those beautiful lilac eyes widen at him in surprise, Crow smirked.

“Hey, Rean, call me Crow Armbrust." 

He didn't even run that far and yet he was breathless, feeling like he just closed an infinite gap between them. This was really happening.  

He was really doing this.

"I'm the resident slacker of Class VII. Wanna walk together to the station?”

Out of all the smiles Rean made since school started, Crow was willing to bet that the one he was making at this moment was the brightest one yet. Somehow the sight of it eased all of his conflicting feelings about this decisive moment. It felt like everything was somehow going to be alright as long as they were together.

Oh, he couldn’t stop himself from claiming those lips again, grinning when the kiss was enthusiastically reciprocated.

...

Yep.

Crow was an idiot.

 

He was hopelessly in love with Rean Schwarzer.

---

Chapter 50 - Becoming the Mask

[Scene 1 - Quitting Destiny]

• Basically, it starts with Crow’s perspective. He quits the ILF 
• “No one’s been a full time terrorist! You’ve all still got lives you can return to! Or, if you don’t, get a life!”
• He doesn’t actually expect the ILF to fall apart even with him gone. They’d come too far, he doubted that any would stop now.
• Also talks with Vita about future plans. Vita doesn’t know if she should be frustrated or bemused.
• After this he goes to school. 
• He’s waiting for Rean. He considers calling him but doesn’t want to interrupt if Rean happens to be in a conversation. People ask him where he is and what happened last night (everyone saw them leaving together).
• He talks about their plan to tell Class VII about who he is. He doubts he’ll have a warm reception but Rean will be with him every step of the way. 

 

[Scene 2 - Changing the Future]

Rean goes to Heimdallr to watch the speech. He needed this because he knew he wouldn't be able to see or hear his dad again until whenever the upcoming war would end. 

Just before Osborne finishes the speech, a hand grabs Rean’s shoulder. “Rean Schwarzer?” asks the owner of the appendage. Rean eyes the person warily. He feels like he’s met this person before. (It's Gideon or Vulcan. Or maybe just a jaeger). “You’re coming with me.” 

A gunshot echoes through the plaza, though the sound is too close. His ears are ringing.

His stomach is screaming. 

His hands reach down, trembling when they pull away with blood on them. He stares defiantly at his attackers.

Another gunshot echoes through the plaza.

 

[Scene 3 - Departure of Fate]

Switches back to Crow’s POV. He’s with the rest of the class as they watch the broadcast. Crow ignores how Millium is eyeing him in confusion. 

When they hear a gunshot, everyone but those two are shocked. Crow is more disappointed that the gunshot completely missed Osborne. Like come on, he personally trained some people in the ILF how to snipe and this is the best they could do? He felt the urge to break his promise to Rean just to show them how it was done. 

Not even a few seconds later, another shot rang through the speakers and it appears to have actually hit Osborne this time. “Good riddance” Crow thinks but doesn’t feel victorious because he remembers what Rean told him. 

Elliot is notably more alarmed and dreadful than anyone else.

(Crow notes that he and Rean planned to reveal their identities to the class once they got back together.)

Then begins the Battle of Trista. When soldats come, he watches Class VII try to fight it by themselves. He secretly changes as C and summons Ordine. Surprises everyone by fighting by their side. He has a ton of experience, so it’s an easy win for him. 

The Courageous appears. Everyone escapes to it, even Crow. He makes sure they’re all not injured before he tries to leave. He doesn’t want to deal with this shitshow all by himself, no thank you!

Since the Old Schoolhouse Incident, Emma has been clawing her way for clues on how he's connected with Vita and the fact that she remembers him wielding a double saber. So, she realizes who he is.

“Crow?!” 

---

---

 

“Flatter me, and I may not believe you. Criticize me, and I may not like you. Ignore me, and I may not forgive you. Encourage me, and I will not forget you. Love me and I may be forced to love you” - William Arthur Ward

Notes:

THAT’S WHY THIS IS CROWREAN! That specific scene was this third scene I wrote when I first began this project. Ah, back in the good ol' days when this was supposed to be some crack story. I ain't good at romance, but spilling all of it here in an outline makes me less worried somehow. You know, gotta dump as much mush and fluff as possible before shit hits the fan.

Thus begins Crow's redemption arc because I planned forgiveness to come harder this time for him. Who wants to bet on if Crow still dies at the end of CSII though lol.

Also also, I couldn't find a way to squeeze it in the outline, but Rean was ignoring Crow for that last month because he was preoccupied with what choice he was going to make. It was unintentional, but he was basically ignoring anything that wasn't getting straight in his face.

Also, that uhh... kiss scene. I wrote that like 3 months after I started this fic and the amount of research I did on kissing tho O_O. It turned into the smuttiest thing no first kiss has any right being. Rereading it like two years later, I was like "oh my god, what have I written?" So I cut that thing down and left it short.

Anyway, special thanks to Frau_Benham if you're still reading this. I stole quite a few ideas, especially for that Ymir trip. I have no regrets, that was fun :3

---

Anyway anyway, CSII's outline is full of gaps and I wanna try to close as many as possible, so it's gonna take longer to update. Just cuz I can tho, I'll give you a sneak peak:

“On that note, though, where is Rean?” Millium asked, tilting her head at Crow.

Still feeling defensive around his classmates, he leaned back to the wall to pretend he was relaxed. “Shouldn’t I be asking you that, Shortstack?” He raised his brow in suspicion. “Shouldn’t you know the whereabouts of your fellow Ironbloods?”

Millium blinked.

Once.

Twice.

Three and four times.

Meanwhile, the rest of the room fell silent as everyone took a moment to process his words.

“Wait-wait-wait-wait—WAIT JUST A MINUTE!!!” Millium shrieked in wide-eyed surprise, taking a few extra moments to gather air back into her lungs. “Rean’s an IRONBLOOD?!”

-----

Take care everyone~

Chapter 29: CSII - Part One

Notes:

IMPORTANT

In my rush to pump out the last chapter, I completely forgot to mention that Gideon survives the operation in Crossbell (cuz he doesn’t go, Shirley still kills everyone she sees lol). With Scarlet gone, they don’t want to risk another one of their elites. It’s also to keep the Black Workshop’s influence distantly present throughout the game. While Roselia is visiting, she confirms with Emma that the mana signature of the mysterious witch who’s been messing with them is Isola. Also, during Roer’s field study, Alisa confronts her mom about her dad. She was told that Franz was dead. Irina feigns ignorance (Best wife and mom of the year award goes to her). Alphonse is expelled from Thors after one more attempt to sabotage Rean.

Also I forgot to mention it (though you probably noticed it), this outline is very Rean and Crow focused. I didn't initially plan for Class VII to have a major part, but then all that just happened. The power of being a pantser writer lol. So yeah, there is unfortunately less focus on them.

And last but not least: There’s a bit of serious stuff that happens, then there’s a bunch of crack stuff that happens. I don’t know what the heck that does to the overall tone, I don't even know if it makes sense anymore, but whatever. Too tired for this. You can go ask questions if you really need to. But yeah. I had fun lol. Thus is the power of the outline!

“Sorry.

Sorry means you feel the pulse of other people's pain as well as your own, and saying it means you take a share of it. And so it binds us together, makes us trodden and sodden as one another. Sorry is a lot of things. It's a hole refilled. A debt repaid. Sorry is the wake of misdeed. It's the crippling ripple of consequence. Sorry is sadness, just as knowing is sadness. Sorry is sometimes self-pity. But Sorry, really, is not about you. It's theirs to take or leave.

Sorry means you leave yourself open, to embrace or to ridicule or to revenge. Sorry is a question that begs forgiveness, because the metronome of a good heart won't settle until things are set right and true. Sorry doesn't take things back, but it pushes things forward. It bridges the gap. Sorry is a sacrament. It's an offering. A gift.”

~ Craig Silvey

---

---

*Chapter 51 - Enter: Crow Armbrust

 

[Scene 1 - Unmasked]

“Crow?!”

“That’s my name~” he jokes but awkwardly rubs the back of his neck. “I guess the cat's out of the bag, huh?”

The class is speechless. Crow wavers in his choice to stay or to leave.

Millium breaks the silence with the sound of her fist hitting her palm as she says the above. “I KNEW IT!”

Machias does a double take. “Wait, what? You're seriously Crow?! Our Crow?! What— Aidios, I can't have this conversation while you're in that giant robot! Come out here!”

Reluctantly, Crow leaves Ordine and faces them in person. He takes off the mask.

“Hey, what's up…”

“Don't what's up us, Crow,” Jusis hisses. “You have a lot of explaining to do. Let's start with why you're here, especially since I doubt a terrorist leader would want to join us for a picnic for no reason.”

Crow took out a fifty mira coin out of his pocket before he tossed it in the air and caught it. With a fond smirk, he said, “Let’s just say a certain someone was very convincing last night.”

Everyone looked at him in confusion before they remembered seeing him leave the field with a certain friend of theirs.

“Wait, are you telling me that Rean convinced a terrorist leader to stop being— well, a terrorist leader?!” Machias exclaimed.

“He never ceases to amaze me,” Jusis muttered.

“On that note, though, where is Rean?” Millium asked, tilting her head at Crow.

Still feeling defensive around his classmates, he leaned back to the wall to pretend he was relaxed. “Shouldn’t I be asking you that, Shortstack?” He raised his brow in suspicion. “Shouldn’t you know the whereabouts of your fellow Ironbloods?”

Millium blinked.

Once. 

Twice.

Three and four times.

Meanwhile, the rest of the room fell silent as everyone took a moment to process his words.

“Wait-wait-wait-wait—WAIT JUST A MINUTE!!!” Millium shrieked in wide-eyed surprise, taking a few extra moments to gather air back into her lungs. “Rean’s an IRONBLOOD?!”

Her confused reaction was so comically over the top that he would’ve laughed, if not for the fact that she didn’t know. "You didn't know?!"

Everyone else’s eyes widened, not knowing which question to be shocked with more. 

“I thought I was keeping an eye on him to recruit him! I didn’t know he was already an Ironblood?!” The girl’s jaw dropped in exasperation, her fingers clutching her head to help rack her mind around all this information. “But waaaaaaaaait a second… What’s the point of me trying to recruit him if he was already part of the team?!!!!”

Laura folded her arms. “It is curious. Why hide his identity from you? Why place two Ironbloods in the same location? Why act so guilty when we had no issues with you, who made it very clear that you worked for the chancellor?” 

“I know it doesn’t make sense, but he said a lot of things that didn’t make sense,” Crow sighed. “Either he’s lost his marbles or he’s the real deal. I’m willing to bet on the latter.”

But what the hell was Rean's rank if even Millium didn't know?

Millium frowned. “But the only Ironbloods I know of are me, Lechter, and Claire. There’s also the Jade Rook, whose identity is a secret, but I don’t think that’d be Rean…”

So, it seemed that other Ironbloods were hiding their identities from others, but for Millium to not even be aware of the existence of another member was… peculiar. Perhaps it was in the nature of Rean's and this apparent Jade Rook's roles to have their identities on a need to know basis, but if that was the case… What did it mean for Rean to reveal his secret?

What consequences would he have to face?

Would he be punished? Would he even be let go? Unlike Crow, Rean wasn't the leader of his affiliation, so he couldn't simply just quit.

His hand immediately opened his ARCUS and called a number he'd memorized a dozen times by now.

He felt like an idiot. How did he not even consider the possibility that Rean wouldn't be allowed to leave the Ironbloods? It would make sense if that was the case, because he hadn't returned to school and he wasn't picking up his damned ARCUS right now.

He should look for him.

Shrugging and keeping his inner turmoil buried behind an indifferent facade, he turned around to walk toward the cockpit. “Anyway—”

“Don’t ‘anyway’ us!” A hand suddenly grabbed onto his shoulder, stopping the rest of the words from leaving his mouth. He turned around to see ruby eyes coldly glaring at him. “You can’t just walk away and pretend that we’re okay with everything you said!”

Confused, he glanced up to see the rest of his classmates looking at him warily.

Oh. 

This was what he'd been dreading.

They probably felt betrayed, and they were rightfully allowed to feel this way. Crow would be an idiot to think that they would have no qualms about being okay with the things he nearly did to their lives.

Crow starts saying something stupid, his automatic response to push people away. This is why Rean should've been here, to stop Crow from digging his own grave.

However, Crow had zero mental preparation for this kind of talk. If he stuck with his original plan, then he would’ve shrugged them off indifferently and told them that the ‘Crow Armbrust’ they knew never existed. To stay on this path he had chosen, he would have to make an effort to reforge his bonds with them and make them trust him enough to work together. 

Or else…

Well, what else did he have then?

(If only Rean was here right now, then maybe this experience would’ve been more bearable.)

Crow awkwardly rubs the back of his neck. “I can't say I have an excuse for what I've done. I just wanted revenge on Osborne, I'm as simple as that.”

They stared down at him, none of them looking like they appreciated that answer.

“Sorry, Crow.” He turned his attention to Gaius, whose voice was calm. The peaceful tone of his words were a stark contrast to the intensity in his eyes, surprising him with this rare, ferocious side to his normally soothing classmate. “The reasoning behind your actions might be understandable if you explained your circumstances, but I…” 

Crow felt a chill go up his spine as the atmosphere seemed to darken. 

“I can’t forgive you for what you almost did to my homeland and family for the sake of your own selfishness. I don't know if I ever will. So, for now…” Gaius sighed as he headed to exit the room. “I need space.”

The door closed. 

“Um…” Everyone looked to Elliot who was struggling to speak his mind. Rubbing the back of his head, he nervously muttered, “The fact that you protected us and you’re here instead of somewhere else speaks volumes as to where your heart lies… Just…” Elliot coughed, using the short moment to gather his thoughts. “You intentionally hurt many people… I don’t know what to feel about how you were willing to hurt anyone to achieve your goal... I…” He lowered his head as he started moving toward the exit. “Ah—Sorry, I need more time to think…”

“I think the point of what Elliot was trying to say is that we can’t trust you,” Machias said, pushing his glasses up as the door closed behind Elliot. “Clearly, being friends didn’t stop you from nearly blowing up my dad—AND Towa—at Crossbell. If I still called you my friend now, what’s to stop you from doing it again if it was required for your goal?” 

All of a sudden, Machias slammed both his fists against the conference room table, making almost everyone around him flinch from the sound of the impact. Heavily breathing, he hissed, “Frankly, I should punch you right now.” Raising his head, his lime eyes pierced through crimson. “However, I want to savor that feeling, so I’ll save it for when I’m more level headed.”

Stomping his feet, he moved toward the door. Crow swore Machias would’ve slammed the doors open if they weren’t automatic.

Jusis sighed, moving toward the door that was still open. “He’s a little dramatic, but I completely agree with him. I can’t trust you because I don’t think I can say I know who you are anymore. You were obviously lying about your grades—I doubt the cunning leader of a successful terrorist group would be such a slacker. It makes me wonder what else you were faking. Your belongings? Your personality? Are you lying to us right now to get our guards down? Who knows?” His crystal blue eyes glanced at Crow’s, expectantly. “If you wish to stand with us once again, I expect a truthful answer about everything that you are, but not now. Everyone’s already too overwhelmed by everything at the moment.” 

And with that piece being said, Jusis left the room. Now, only his female classmates were left in the room.

After a short silence, Laura walked up to him, sword in hand.

“Laura—” Emma gasped, moving to stop her friend.

Crow didn’t even flinch when the sword was pointed at his throat. Calmly, the swordswoman spoke. “I swore to protect my friends. I’ve protected you, thinking you were my friend. I’ve also attacked you, thinking that I needed to protect my friends from you. Seeing where you stand now, I should think that we are friends again, however…” 

Laura’s pupils constricted, pinning him with a bitter glare. Crow wouldn’t be surprised if he was going to be headless in the next second; however, she moved her gaze toward the door. 

Eyes softening, she sighed, “It seems I must still spend time protecting my friends from you.”

Ouch.

Before the door closed behind her, Laura glanced at him, still keeping that soft look in her eyes. “When you make up with them, I will consider you someone worthy of having my blade’s protection. Until then… prove yourself to us.”

The door closed.

Well, that was surprisingly hopeful—

SMACK

“You are the absolute worst!” 

A sharp stinging sensation bloomed against the skin of his cheek as the impact sent him collapsing against a chair. He bit his lip in pain as he looked up to the blonde standing over him, unforgiving tears glistening down her cheeks. 

“I’m angry about how your little terrorist plot disturbed my home, but that anger pales in comparison to what you said earlier!”

To be honest, he expected the physical pain to come a lot earlier, so he didn’t question why Alisa slapped him. What he did question, however, was what she was talking about. Holding his cheek with one hand, his eyebrows furrowed in confusion. “What I said?”

“Let’s just say a certain someone was very convincing last night,” she repeated his earlier words with a mock inflection of his voice. Her lips then twisted as she started to hiss at him. “So you were totally planning on leaving us—leaving him before that?!”

“Yeah.” He couldn’t lie. Not anymore.

Fists clenching, Alisa tried her best to not lose herself and inflict anymore damage on Crow. But, oh Goddess, she wanted to shoot him full of arrows and toss him over the ship. Instead, she let the rage crash into her in waves and used her voice as her only outlet. “Do you even know how much you mean to him?! Do you even know how much your betrayal would destroy him?!”

“Yeah.”

Alisa hated how blank Crow’s expression was. She hated how blank he appeared throughout the entire time their classmates were revealing their thoughts about his confessions. It was as if he didn’t care that they could’ve had a completely different situation right now, and that thought made her blood boil.

If Rean hadn't figured out Crow's plan the night before, Crow wouldn't even be here right now. He would be truly living the life of a terrorist leader instead.

“You were there when he tried to kill himself! I trusted you to stop him! And you did! Then you were the one he fell in love with!” Her breaths came out raggedly but every word she screamed was clear and sharp enough to feel like he was being stabbed by a knife. “How could someone like you claim to like him? Claim to even be friends with him? How, when you knew DAMN well what effect your actions could’ve had on him?!”

Self-deprecatingly, Crow chuckled. “Honestly, I was hoping he’d forget me after this stunt, but...” He paused, waiting for Alisa’s breathing to calm down just a bit. “Let me tell you three things. First, you underestimate yourselves. You guys would’ve gotten him in tip-top shape if he broke down. You’re as important to him as I somehow am to him. 

"Second, you underestimate Rean. I don’t know what the hell he did, but he seemed to free himself from whatever was holding him down two months ago. He’s stronger now, and he’s not so willing to take away his own life now…”

A long pause.

“And third?” Alisa impatiently asked, though she was visibly much calmer now. 

Third was that she underestimated him. If Crow followed his own goal, he would’ve kept an eye on Rean. He would’ve made sure he didn’t fall too far down the abyss. 

But he wouldn’t say that.

“Eh, I must’ve miscounted!” Crow shrugged.

“Ugh, you’re awful!” Alisa yelled before she turned on her heel and walked through the door. “I won’t forgive you for what you almost did to Rean until he comes back and I hear he’s okay! And as for my feelings about what you did at Roer?" 

SMACK

His face was suddenly the victim of another harsh slap. 

"You’ll get another painful lecture for that later, got it?!”

The door closed.

Only for it to open five seconds later.

“But… thanks… for choosing to not betray us in the end..”

The door closed again. 

Crow slumped to the floor, emotionally drained. He didn’t expect his classmates would have this much of an effect on him— And they weren’t even done! Not to mention, Towa, Angie, and George were sure to have a lecture for him…

Sighing, he glanced at his three remaining classmates in the room: Millium, Emma, and Fie. “Who wants to lecture me next?”

“Meh,” Fie shrugged nonchalantly. “You suck, but I’ll consider us good if you don’t pull off any more terrorist stunts. Oh, and you owe me five gun duels and your favorite place to nap.”

Crow reluctantly nodded, more confused about how Fie was willing to forgive him or whatever so easily. “That’s it?”

“Yeah, well, um…” Emma awkwardly smiled at him. “I think they covered everything. Having another lecture would just be beating the dead horse.” For a moment, however, her eyes flashed a chilling gold. “But, make no mistake, I haven’t forgiven you for the harm you placed our friends and their families in, so you better not make any more mistakes.”

Sheesh, Emma could be as scary as Vita sometimes.

Turning his head, he curiously eyed Millium, wondering what the Ironblood’s response would be.

“Hmm…” 

Millium’s face was all scrunched up from thinking and sorting out her thoughts. After a few more seconds, her expression softened and she looked at him brightly.

“In regards to you as a terrorist, I was only supposed to figure out your identity. Now that I know that you’re C…” She grinned, raising her hands in the air in carefree confusion. “Well, I dunno what to do about you next! I didn’t get any orders for when I reached this point! I guess you’re cool if you stop doing terrorism and stuff! But, only because everyone’s expecting some form of repentance from you, I demand you pay for eleven cones of ice cream, each stacked with seven scoops!”

Crow sighed in relief at the girl. Really, he didn’t know what he should’ve expected from her. “Seriously? You sure you don’t want more?”

“Of course I’d want more!” Millium laughed, spreading smiles to the rest of the occupants in the room. “But the ice cream’s for when Class VII officially reunites—all eleven of us!”

“Poor Sara will cry a river for being forgotten.”

“Oh, whoops! Make that twelve ice creams, Crow!”

The fact that they didn’t even hesitate to count him in made him feel something he wasn’t used to. Silently nodding, he turned his head away from the girls.

Oh fuck his heart for still existing and getting contaminated by Rean’s sappiness because—damn—he swore his eye just stung for a moment there and almost produced a tear.

He was not one to get emotional.

“Oh, is Crow crying~?” Fie snickered.

“I ain't crying!” 

Even though he wasn’t lying, he had to admit that his choked voice didn’t sound so convincing. 

 

[Scene 2 - New Plans]

Olivier swoops into the room and announces that he has to drop them off before leaving to tell the others. It's better if they're separated so they're less noticeable. Also because he needs to take the Courageous somewhere else.

“Then you guys should split into three groups of three and figure out what you want to do. I’ll go look for Rean by myself since I have easy mobility, I think he got caught up in the mess at Heimdallr anyway…” He digs out his ARCUS out of his pocket again. “I guess I’ll call Vita.”

“I hope that isn’t an excuse to avoid our classmates. I know you need to give them space, but that doesn’t mean you get to run away,” Emma scolds him, though her focus shifts quickly to his ARCUS.

“I know, I know. I’ll… come back. After I figure out my own shit too.”

A boldfaced lie. Crow doesn't know what the fuck he's doing anymore.

The ARCUS clicks and Vita shows up at the other end of the call. Emma gasps but keeps herself quiet.

“Yo Vita, how’re you doing?”

Vita flips her hair and huffs. “I’m doing great. Things are moving according to plan, no thanks to you.”

Crow shrugs. “Hey, there’s no plan if Osborne can’t die.”

“I saw his corpse. He’s dead.”

His stomach sinks. Did Rean lie to him? 

“He’s not dead.” The camera shifts to the side, pointing at a familiar face. From what he can see, there are railings on the bed he's sitting on, and an IV pole next to it.

Millium pops up in front of Crow so that they see her on the camera. “Rean? What are you doing with her? And are you hurt?”

The idiot scratches his cheek sheepishly. “I may have gotten shot…”

Crow doesn’t know how low his heart can keep sinking. “What.”

“I’m fine, haha. Vita helped heal it.”

There’s too much confusion, disbelief, and shock going on through his mind. The whole situation was a hot mess already, but Vita and Rean—two people who have no reason to lie about this—disagreeing about Osborne’s death are messing with him. The fact that they’re together adds more to the pile of garbage fire, and now this? 

“Fine my ass! Is someone trying to kill you?”

“Ah… No. It was just a misunderstanding.”

“Yeah…” For once, Rean’s serenity fools Crow into believing that everything’s fine. Only for one moment though. “THAT’S ONE HELL OF A MISUNDERSTANDING!”

“Anyway…”

Crow knows he’s a hypocrite, but he says it anyway. “Don’t anyway us.”

Millium furiously nods. “Yeah! And why didn’t you tell me you’re already—”

Crow moves to cover Millium’s mouth. “Shortstack, Vita’s here.”

A smile creeps up on the witch’s face. “Oh? Is there something I should know?”

Emma crosses her arms. “Only if you’re willing to tell me EVERYTHING you’ve been up to.”

“Oh, Emma!” A hint of nervousness weaves into Vita’s suave act. “You’re there too? Goodness, what happened to my sweet little sister?”

A dangerous smile crosses Emma’s lips. “And what happened to my very reliable and trustworthy older sister?”

“Ah…”

Crow is wheezing. “Wait. Stop. I gotta record this!”

Vita glares at him. “Crow…”

“Hey, you’re talking to Crow—the little brother I wish I never had—Armbrust.”

Fie whistles. “Damn. I’m starting to feel bad for her.”

“Back to the topic at hand,” Vita cleared her throat. "I've already explained my ultimate goal to you, Crow. Do you remember what it was?”

“Yeah, a rivalry between Divine Knights.”

Millium looks over to Fie. “What are they talking about?”

“No clue.” Fie looks over to Emma, who looks deeply engrossed in the conversation. “I guess Emma can explain it to us later.”

“Indeed,” Vita ignores them. “I was supposed to give you your chance to shoot the chancellor and then you were supposed to help me with the aftermath. Thankfully, the war still sparked—”

“Wait, Vita,” Emma exclaims, indignant. “You wanted this war to happen?”

“Believe me, dear sister. This is better than the alternative. You’ll understand why if you do more digging. Anyway, Erebonia’s Civil War was a long time coming. All it needed was a catalyst, really.”

Crow laughs bitterly. “I know I was that catalyst, but the way you phrase it makes me feel insignificant in the grand scheme of things.”

“Oh, Crow. You have no idea how insignificant many players are in this game Erebonia has locked itself in. Even more so if I’m to believe Rean about Osborne’s fate.” She nudges Rean’s shoulder. “And the fact that you didn’t outright refuse the deal makes me even more suspicious about you in particular.”

Oops. Did they force Rean to say something he shouldn’t have said earlier in the call? Well, with all the headaches Rean had been giving him recently, maybe he should get a taste of having his own plans ruined.

Wait a minute. “What deal?” he asks.

“Duke Cayenne wants me to work with the Noble Alliance,” Rean says. “He says it’s to help end the war faster with Valimar, though I doubt that's his true goal. I’m thinking of doing it to mitigate the conflicts in Western Erebonia, since it’s predicted that the war will be worse there.”

“Hey, I didn’t agree to not shoot Osborne only for us to swap places.”

Rean shakes his head. That small, confident smile starts blooming on his face. “We’re not swapping places. If anything, I want us to stay on the same side. I’m just going to… cheat this war a bit.”

“Cheating? Damn, how badly have I influenced you?” Crow chuckles weakly before turning serious. “But it would’ve been nice to get a heads up if you had this all planned.”

Rean sheepishly scratches his cheek. “Actually, I had no idea what was going to happen today. I really was planning to come back to Trista as soon as possible, but then…”

“You got shot, abducted by Cayenne, then hatched a plan with Vita. Is that it?”

“Yeah… But, I won’t make my choice until I talk to everyone in Class VII about it, because that’s whose side I’ve chosen. I want to be transparent with you all about why I joined Thors.” His eyes dart around. “Uh, is everyone there with you?”

“Uhhhhhhhhhh.”

Emma explains how things are tense between Crow and the rest of Class VII.

Rean looks guilty. “Crow, I’m so sorry. With everything going on, I forgot that you were…”

Crow wants to shake this idiot. “You forgot that I’m a terrorist?!”

“Former terrorist.” Rean points out.

Fie snickers. “So that’s what it’s like to be blinded by love. By the way, did you guys K I S S last night?”

Crow may be able to school his face, but the blush overtaking Rean’s face is easy for everyone to see. Emma’s eyes sparkle.

“Anyway…” Rean coughs into his fist. “Is there anything I can do to help on that end?”

Crow waves him off. “Nah, that’s something I gotta do on my own, if they even give me the chance.” 

Though… Does he even want their forgiveness? After everything he’s done, does he even deserve it? Sure, he didn’t shoot Osborne in the end, but he did carve a path of ruin toward that goal.

Sensing Crow’s hesitance, Rean suggests, “Then, while you give everyone some time to think, maybe you could stay with me in the meantime?”

“Yeahhhhh, after the stunt I pulled, you can’t expect me to just walk back in without being locked behind bars. .” Especially from Gideon and Vulcan. 

“And that’s where you’re wrong, Crow,” Vita wags her finger at him. “All we need is some illusory magic, a disguise, and convincing Cayenne that Rean won’t help him out unless he has his trusty butler by his side.”

“You are not putting me in a butler outfit. And there’s no way anyone’s gonna get fooled by that!”

“Fine, would you prefer being a maid then?” Vita cackles. “We can spread word of Crowtina’s beauty around the nation~”

Rean tries his hardest to hide his laughter. Fie has no problem letting her chuckles ring through the room. “Forget the gun duels, Crow. I won’t forgive you unless you dress up as a maid and call yourself Crowtina.”

Emma nods furiously along. Millium starts chanting, “Crowtina! Crowtina! Crowtina!”

“You're all making me question all my life's decisions…”

Rean and Vita try to talk a bit more, but the sound of a door opening can be heard from the ARCUS. They abruptly end the call but Vita says she’ll handle Crow’s situation later, just meet up with her in Ymir. 

[A/N]: Vita is using her magic to encrypt this call.

 

[Scene 3 - Separation]

Olivier drops Crow off first at Ymir. The goodbyes are cold between Crow and certain classmates. It makes him doubt himself a bit more, though it’s not like he doesn’t deserve it. 

---

Chapter 52 - Cheating the Game

[A/N] This chapter begins slightly before the last chapter.

[Scene 1 - Cayenne]

Rean wakes up in what looks like an infirmary. Though when he looks out the window, all he can see are the skies and clouds. He’s on the Pantagruel. He had blacked out after getting shot and hit in the head. He finds Duke Cayenne entering his room. They talk. 

“Given how terribly my peers have treated you, my request might feel antithetical to you, Schwarzer,” Cayenne says. “But, I have heard of your good deeds and prowess from Lord Rufus, not to mention that you are the pilot of one of the Divine Knights. It would serve us greatly if you could cooperate with us and end this war swiftly.”

Rean is confused, mostly by why Rufus told Cayenne that he was an Awakener. Rufus’ role was to monitor the Noble Alliance’s and Ouroboros’ movements. Rean knows that he messed with the plans, what with revealing that he’s an Ironblood to Crow and somehow convincing Crow to not shoot Osborne, but he doesn’t think it warrants getting dragged into the Noble Alliance’s plot.

He remembers talking to Osborne about finding out C’s real identity. He talked about his conflict about wanting to potentially stop Crow but also not wanting to betray Osborne. 

Osborne said, “You’ve grown up so much that I don’t think you need to follow everything I say anymore. It’s time for you to fly from the nest and make your own decisions, ones that you won’t regret. Maybe it doesn’t go according to my plans, but that doesn’t mean there isn’t a third path to ending this curse. I believe in you.

“But anyway, since it seems the snakes are getting their noses into Erebonia’s conflict, I might just sit back and watch what they do. I’ll let them do their own plan, and I’ll intervene if it doesn’t work. So really, whatever choice you make won’t affect the plan.”

So he basically got the okay from Osborne to do whatever he wants. For Rufus to change his course is confusing. Did that mean their plans had to change as well? 

After all this thinking, Rean tells Cayenne to give him some time to think about it. 

 

[Scene 2 - Vita]

Next, Vita walks into his room. Thanks to Lianne (who’s been casually letting Ouroboros’ plans slip as if it’s normal conversation), he knows what her goal is. It’s to replicate the rivalries without unleashing 100% of the curse, so the whole world wouldn’t have to be dragged into war and there would be less risk in reforming the Great One. 

Also, thanks to Lianne, Vita is completely aware that Rean knows Ouroboros’ plans. And based on what she heard about Rean from McBurn, she has an inkling that he’s connected to the curse.

 “You’re aware that we’re trying to avoid the Great Twilight, right? This country needs to be consumed by enough conflict for the Infernal Palace to be summoned. And frankly, if both Awakeners fight on the same side right now, there’s no telling how that could affect the conflict stirring up. Worse case scenario, this civil war will not be enough and then it will all be for nothing in terms of ending the curse.”

Rean tilts his head in confusion. “Why would the other Awakener fight against the Noble Alliance? If you’re on the Noble Alliance’s side, shouldn’t they be helping you since I assume you guided them?”

Vita laughs without any amusement. "Shouldn't that be my question? You're the reason— Unless… you don't know the Azure Awakener's identity?"

"No? Should I?"

“My, you didn’t even know and yet you…” Vita shakes her head. “The Azure Awakener is Crow.”

…

…

…Oh.

Things are starting to make sense now. Especially why Rufus told Cayenne about him and consequently got him dragged here. To his knowledge, there were only four Awakeners at the moment. With Lianne busy in Crossbell and Osborne ‘out of the picture,’ there were only two left that could participate in a rivalry. And it wouldn’t be much of a rivalry… or much of a conflict since two Divine Knights on the same side could easily turn the tides of war. 

“I’ve calculated everything. In theory, my plan can work and we can mitigate the damage to both you and Crow as well as the rest of the world. I know Crow doesn’t fully understand how serious Erebonia’s curse is, but I trust that you do. So, if we want to avoid the worst case scenario, we can’t let you two just do whatever you want.”

“I… I understand. But I still want to be by Class VII’s side. I’ll consider working with you, but I’m going to let the rest of them know first and see what they think.”

Speaking of the devil, they get the call from Crow right then and there. The whole conversation happens. Near the end, the door suddenly opens and reveals Rufus. Vita hangs up on the call. 

 

[Scene 3 - Rufus]

“You always interrupt us out of nowhere. I don’t see why everyone calls you the perfect noble. Haven’t you heard of knocking?” Vita groans.

“My apologies, but I don’t believe there’s a door in Ymir’s footbaths to knock on. As for here?” Rufus casually steps into the room with the usual perfect smile on his face. The doors shut automatically. “See? It’s automatic. It opens before I even get the chance, unfortunately.”

“Careful there, Lord Rufus. This is a private room. I have no qualms of making an ice cube out of you here.”

“Oh my, you’re so violent. Are all witches like this?” Rufus says, unfazed at all. “No wonder your kind is hated by the church, and the gnomes, and normal people. Is that why you all isolate yourself from the rest of the world in a cute little forest?”

“Oh dear, how can such ugly assumptions fall from such a pretty smile like yours? Is that why you have no real friends?”

“At the very least I can proudly announce that I haven’t disappeared without a trace on those that I share blood with.” 

“At least I don’t have to call a pathetic excuse of a human being my father.”

“Well, I at least have a cute little brother to return home to.”

“Well, I have a little sister who’s WAY cuter.”

Rean finally understands why they were acting so vile to each other back when they met in Ymir. “Um… Can I leave?”

“No,” they both say at the same time. Again. 

Vita asks Rufus what he wants. He says he just wants to talk to Rean in private. Although a little suspicious, Vita leaves the room.

“I take it that you’re a little surprised about the recent developments?” Rufus takes a seat in a chair across from Rean.

“That’s a bit of an understatement… Though after learning about the Azure Awakener’s identity, I guess I get it now.”

• They talk about how Osborne’s doing. He’s still dead to convince everyone he’s dead, though Rean is dreading the consequence of Vita, Crow and the rest of Class VII know that he’s dead. He’s not worried about the latter two, and maybe Vita won’t care because his death has gotten the Civil War to spring forward in full motion.
• Rufus says he knows exactly what to do, moving forward. Though it’s going to heavily depend on Rean.
• He also warns Rean that if he takes too long to decide, then Cayenne is just going to take Ymir hostage to make him compliant. So much for having a choice…

 

[Scene 4 - Ouroboros]

He passes by McBurn’s room. McBurn and Bleublanc are playing Blade. Duvalie is standing beside them, glaring at them.

“McBurn, you do know that we have to leave for a mission like RIGHT NOW, right?” Duvalie hisses.

“Eh, really?” McBurn says but then his attention is grabbed by Rean’s arrival. “Oh, it’s you again, Kid. Huh, everytime we meet up, I feel like you’re a different person. Any chance you’ll be a good fight for me yet?”

Duvalie stomps her foot on the ground, “Are you listening to me?!!”

Rean backs away from the rampaging Stahlritter. He doesn’t know who is worse to ignore, McBurn or Duvalie. He decides to respond to McBurn.  “Yeah… I don’t think so.”

McBurn sighs. “What a shame. It’s great seeing you well and all yourself, but it makes me kinda jealous, you know?”

“What do you mean?” 

At this point, Duvalie flails her arms in frustration before flopping down on the couch. “Milord, what have I done to deserve this?”

Bleublanc hums as he places a card or something. “McBurn’s just struggling with the beautiful question of identity. If he were to gain all his memories, would he be different too? If any of us lose our memories, how different would we be? What do you think, Rean?”

Rean regrets walking into this room. “Is it too late to leave this conversation?” 

“Just humor me for a bit,” Bleublanc smirks. 

He shrugs. “If you lose your memories, you become a stranger to yourself. If you don’t know who you are, how are you supposed to know what you want to do? How are you supposed to know how you usually interact with the world?”

“A splendid answer. I agree, but I also disagree. I don’t believe identity is solely based on memories. See, if McBurn were to regain his memories, I bet he’d still be grumpy, bored, and thirsty for battle. Such traits don’t simply come out of nowhere.”

“I guess...”

“Duvalie,” Bleublanc turns to face her. “What’s your take on this subject?”

“I DON’T CARE. Can we go on our mission now?”

McBurn groans. “Ugh, this philosophical bullshit makes me want to evaporate a lake or something.”

Duvalie runs a hand down her face as she groans in frustration.

Rean asks, “You’re still trying to find a battle where you can go all out?”

“Yeah.” McBurn pauses, as if considering something. “Hey, if you train up your Divine Knight and team up with Azure Kid, maybe you’ll both prove to be a good fight.”

“I’ll pass.”

The enforcer sighs. “You’re no fun anymore.”

Rean chuckles awkwardly. “Well, I do owe you for helping me out, so I’ll keep getting stronger. Then, maybe I’ll accept a fight with you.”

“Then what are you standing over there for? Go train or do whatever humans do to get stronger already. I’m dying of boredom over here and I wanna see what happens when you hone that flame of yours inside of you!”

“I'll try my best…”

“Bolt,” Bleublanc says as he places another card down, tearing McBurn’s attention back to the game.

A fire lights up in his hand. “Ugh, and this is why I hate playing with you. You always cheat.” 

“And you always burn the deck.”

“Because I don’t wanna play with you anymore!” McBurn leans back and sees Duvalie. “Oh, you’re still here? I thought you were going to leave for the mission?”

“I’m WAITING!!!! For YOUUUUU!!!!!”

“Really?” he sighs. “Sounds like a drag. You can handle it all yourself.”

“AUGHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH!”

 

[Scene 5 - Altina]

Rean checks and visits another room. He doesn’t expect to see Altina in it, though he supposes he shouldn’t be surprised when he remembers that she’s working with Rufus. She’s in her normal outfit. 

“So, how was your tour around Erebonia as the Ashen Saint?”

Altina stares at him, nonplussed. “Terrible. I would rather be out there eliminating targets instead of doing… Whatever it is that you do.”

“What’s terrible about helping people out?”

Rean notices a faint blush surface on her cheeks. “People. Too many people with unpredictable words and unpredictable actions. When they express gratitude, they grab me and suffocate me for a few seconds. When they say I’m cute, they hit me on the head. I do not understand why so-called kindness is rewarded with such violence and I do not understand why you tolerate this.”

“Um, when you say people hit you on the head, do you mean this?” Rean pats her on the head.

Altina recoils and puts distance between them. “Yes, that. It’s dangerous.”

“It’s not dangerous, here let me show you.”

“No, it is dangerous. Especially in your hands. I was told by the Black Workshop that your role will be to hurt and kill targets.”

Curse Alberich and his tendency to assume that Rean will just be Ishmelga’s backup vessel. He probably talks to all the homunculi because he has no one else to talk to.

Rean gently shakes his head. “No, I won’t hurt you, and I definitely won’t kill you—or anyone for that matter. I just want to try to be happy, and I know doing either of those won’t make me happy.”

“How odd, you should not go against the purpose that has been given to you.”

Recalling his conversation with Osborne, he says, “People aren’t meant to be given purposes. We forge our own.”

Altina tilts her head at him like he’s a giant puzzle. “You are… Very different from when we last had a private conversation.”

Rean smiles. “I’m aware, and I’m glad I’ve changed. Now, if you would allow it, I would like to show you that the world isn’t as unforgiving as you’ve been told to believe.”

Altina narrows her eyes at him. Hesitantly, she steps closer to him. “I shall put my trust in you, Ashen Saint.”

“You know you don’t have to call me that anymore, right? Especially since you’re impersonating the Ashen Saint. You can just call me Rean.”

“Negative, I am under direct orders to not call you by your name. It’s either Ashen Saint or Vessel.”

Yet another reason to hate Alberich. 

“Okay, fine. As long as you know not to call me either when we’re around other people,” Rean sighs as he raises his hand. “Are you ready?”

“Yes.”

He pats her head. She flinches, but does not move away this time.

“I do not know how to explain how this feels, but I am affirmative that it is not painful at least.”

Rean stops, letting out an awkward chuckle. “Well, at least you know it’s not dangerous anymore and that people aren’t trying to hit you.”

Altina stares at him intensely.

“What?”

She says, “I do not recall telling you to stop.”

Now that gets him to let out a warm laugh. He starts patting her head again.

After a couple more headpats later, Altina asks, “So what about when people grab me and suffocate me? Is that not dangerous as well?”

“Oh, that’s a hug.” Rean is still not completely used to giving people hugs. “It’s another form of affection.”

“What a strange method,” Altina says to the air before looking at him. “Can I test it out?”

Rean gives a very awkward hug to her.

Altina frowns. “This is strange. I don't know if I can tolerate this.”

“Well, Millium is known to give really good hugs. Maybe you can ask her—”

“No. I have seen her do those hug things from a distance. I doubt I would survive from such an attack.”

 

[Scene 6 - A New Road]

By then, Rean finally gets his ARCUS back (it was taken from him when he got shot). He calls Class VII (minus Crow who already got dropped off at Ymir) and vaguely talks about his plans (the same stuff he said earlier when Crow called Vita). 

He can’t go into detail in case this call gets hacked or something and he doesn’t want to ask Vita for help to encrypt the call (cuz she’ll probably eavesdrop anyway).. 

They’re obviously worried because this is a full-blown war and none of them are particularly in agreement with the Noble Alliance’s endgame goal. 

Laura even asks, “If you have to fight, then why with them? Why not against them?”

“ Yeah,” Millium furiously nods. “Since you’re a you-know-what—hey why didn’t you tell me earlier anyway—it seems kinda counterintuitive to work for the other guys, you know?”

“Ah…”

“OOH! Unless! This is like some kinda spy mission!”

Rean runs a hand down his face. Millium’s just begging to get him in trouble. “Certain circumstances are keeping me with them for the time being…”

“Circumstances which you won’t tell us about?” Jusis points out.

“Blink twice if you’re being threatened to join them,” Machias loudly whispers.

“Ah, it’s not that… Sorry, I know I’m asking a lot from you guys and I’m not giving you much in return…”

“Sorry for what?” Alisa huffs. “You haven’t even asked us for a single thing.”

Elliot nods. “Yeah, it already sucks that you’re going to have to fight in this war alone on a side you don’t even agree with, and I know you feel like you have no right to reach out to us because of your secrets. But, tell us what you really want first. Then, we’ll decide whether or not we’ll give you what you want.”

Rean looks away from the screen. He knocks against the table, right beside his ARCUS.

| When the time is right, I’m going to ditch the Noble Alliance. |

He can see his classmates’ eyes widen from his peripheral vision. 

| When that happens, will you let me fight by your side, not as an Ironblood, but as a member of Class VII? |

“Well, I think you’ll have a lot of explaining to do when we see each other again,” Gaius says. “But…” 

Everyone chimes in. “Of course!”

Rean considers telling them to give Crow another chance, but he recalls his own path of accepting himself. It was hard, but he’s happy he got through it. He wouldn’t want someone else to make it easier for him, so he keeps silent about it. He knows Crow is capable of earning redemption, and he’ll help out as much as he can. 

Before they say their farewells, Rean asks them what they plan on doing during the war. Some are uncertain (Laura, Jusis), some know they’re definitely against the Noble Alliance (Machias, Elliot, Gaius, Alisa, Millium), and others will give all their support (Fie, Emma). He tells them to think about how they want to go about the war. If they want to stay safe until it clears or something else. He promises he’ll follow their choice in the future.

Before Fie hangs up, she says, “Hey, Rean. Make sure to take a picture of Crowtina and send it to me, got it?”

Almost everyone gangs up on her, demanding for further elaboration.  

 

[Scene 7 - Step Ahead]

Rean accepts Cayenne’s deal. Because many of the nobles are wary of “Rean Schwarzer” because of his mixed heritage and connection to Class VII, they’re not going to play nice with him. Cayenne suggests making sure that no one realizes that “Rean Schwarzer” and the “Ashen Chevalier” are the same person. Just to make his life easier around here. 

(If he had a nickel for every secret identity he had that included the word “Ashen,” he’d have two.)

Rean and Vita go to the Pantagruel’s hangars while no one’s around. 

While Vita summons Crow, Rean tries summoning Valimar. Vita manages to summon Crow first and they reunite (though they’ve only been separated for like a day). And it’s ruined when Vita reminds them:

“In two months, I predict that the conflict will be at its highest and the Infernal Palace will be summoned for a rivalry to take place. I’ll give it one or one and a half months before you both pick a side and actively fight together with your Divine Knights. Until then, Rean will be helping out the Noble Alliance while Crow can sit on his butt and do nothing.”

“Thanks for encouraging my lazy tendencies.”

“I don't care what you do, really. Just please keep the PDA low.”

Crow says fuck that and kisses Rean.

“Now I’ve been reminded, I’m pretty sure you said we could continue off from last night if we chose each others’ sides~”

Rean rolls his eyes. “Priorities, Crow.”

“That doesn’t sound like a no to me~”

They kiss again.

Vita groans. She gets vengeance later when she figures out how to make him look like an awesome maid.

Eventually, Valimar flies in… And he’s with company. Celine just about jumps off the robot toward Vita so she can scratch her. Griannos gets in the way and they become a fighting mess on the floor. Celine cusses at Vita for ditching Emma and everyone else. Vita shakes her head.

Rean and Crow just stare at the scene in shock.

“The cat can talk?!”

---

Chapter 53 - Take My Hand

[Scene 1 - Going-Ons]

• Vita and Crow help give tips as Rean continues to get better at piloting Valimar.
•  After hearing everything, Celine agrees to help. Vita teleports them to barren areas so that Rean can have mock duels with him and Ordine. 
• When Cayenne notices them teleporting so much, they explain that it’s just training so that he’ll do better on the battlefield. Thankfully, Rean has some time before he goes to war because he’s still healing from his injury. He also needs to build his stamina for polioting Valimar. 
• Crow questions how Rean is so buddy-buddy with Ouroboros, “Are you also a secret enforcer or something?”
• Rean explains how he's connected with them through an Anguis who took care of him when he was young.
• Crow has drinks with McBurn when he’s not needed. (McBurn doesn’t get fooled by the disguise).
• “So this what you’re into, Armbrust?”
• At this point, Crow has resigned to the fact that he’s going to have to play maid for about a month and decides to take it in stride. “At least it gives me an excuse to slack off. No one can seriously expect me to give me my all in a dress like this.”
• McBurn raises his glass. “Cheers to finding excuses to not do boring things that are such a drag.”
• “Cheers.”
• Duvalie stares at them in disgust. “Oh my goddess there are two of you.”
• Crow glances at Vulcan and Gideon
• Crow wonders what would’ve happened if he told them that their plans are futile. At the same time, he knows they wouldn’t believe him if he told them. 
• He wonders if this is what his alternative future would’ve looked like: Chilling on the Pantagruel until Cayenne gave them orders. 
• He notes that Vulcan and Gideon don’t look happy. Maybe satisfied, but they look like they’ve lost their energy for anything else. Just looking forward to nothing but the end.
• Right now, Crow can say he doesn’t want to be like them, but he also feels guilty. He led them to this path. He should be with them, rotting away. 

 

[Scene 2 - Regret]

Crow admits to Rean that he’s feeling doubtful of himself after everyone in Class VII reminded him of how much bad he did to them and a bunch of others. Also guilty for ditching the terrorists and not getting the consequences he deserves. 

“Do you regret not shooting Osborne?”

“See, that’s the thing. If you told me I had a chance to kill him right now, I probably would. I didn’t choose to not shoot him solely because I wanted to be on your side, but because I believed it was pointless. You know what that says about me as a person?” Crow sighs. “This whole redemption thing sounds kinda futile when I know I haven’t changed.”

Rean considers him for a moment. “Would you kill me if it meant you would be able to kill Osborne?”

Crow takes a while to respond. “...No.”

“Then I think you’ve changed. I hate to remind you, but you almost blew up Towa when she was in Crossbell.”

“See, I don’t understand how you can say something like that about me and still like me. The fact that I wanted to kill the guy you work for doesn’t help at all.”

“It helps that those plans were stopped.”

“Yeah, by you and the rest of Class VII.”

“You helped, too.”

“Didn’t try my best.”

Rean sighs. “I didn’t start liking you because you were a terrorist. I liked you because I liked being around you.” He blushes. “I like you even more now for choosing not to shoot Osborne in the end. I think that choice says a lot about you as a person. I think the choices you keep making from now on to redeem yourself will say even more about yourself, and it’s up to you if you want good things to be said about you.” 

“I really don’t know how you can be so positive—”

“Maybe it’s because I’m not intentionally forgetting that you have a heart. A cruel, hopeless terrorist leader wouldn’t just get a crush randomly, much less forsake his revenge plan to pursue said crush. I know us liking each other would’ve never happened if either of us found out about the other’s true identity earlier, but that doesn’t mean our feelings are lying right now. And you—” Rean stops himself for a moment, a look of confusion dawning on his face. “Wait, what even made you so interested in me in the first place?”

“Honestly, I just wanted to knock your fake smile off when I first met you,” Crow scratches the back of his head, feeling a new onset of embarrassment wash over him. “Eventually, well…” 

“Well?”

“Don’t laugh.”

“I won’t.”

“Well, when I saw you smile for real that one time… I kind of just wanted to keep seeing you smile.”

Rean laughs.

“Hey, I told you not to laugh! The sappiness is already killing me enough! I don’t need the King of Sappiness to laugh at me!”

“No! I’m not laughing at you! It’s just… Wanting to see you smile for real instead of that dumb smirk… That’s how I started to get interested in you, too...”

“Damn, so we’re both a couple of hopeless dorks, huh?”

“And that’s why I believe in you. Don’t forget that my past isn’t clean either,” Rean smiles at him. “If there’s hope for me, then I know there’s hope for you, too.”

Crow’s heart really can’t say no to that. From then on, he starts seriously trying to figure out how to make amends with the people he hurt. Rean helps him along the way, tossing out ideas or just giving him company.

He decides he can start with helping other people in bracer-style while Rean trains with Vita and Celine. Along the way, he meets torn families, wounded innocents, people cursing the nobles, people cursing the imperials…

He doesn’t have a massive bleeding heart like Rean, but he does know when there’s debt he owes. 

And a debt like this will only take death or a lifetime to pay it back. 

 

[Scene 4 - Shaken Resolve]

Rean recovers enough and Cayenne sends him into the battlefield. (Celine accompanies him). He must say, using a Divine Knight to fight off the Imperial Faction’s tanks feels extremely unfair. The Noble Alliance already have the technological advantage with their soldats, not to mention Ouroboros is already throwing in Archaisms to help them out. Is a Divine Knight really necessary?

He’s proven wrong when he realizes that the Imperial Faction has better cohesion and structure with their military. Because the Noble Alliance’s army is made up of several different provincial armies used to only answering to their own house instead of cooperating as one, their teamwork is lacking. They also argue over what the best strategy is.

Then, he faces off against the likes of Olaf Craig who easily proves he doesn’t need a soldat to take a soldat down. Rean isn’t a leader (not like any of the nobles would listen to him anyway), he’s just here to provide backup. When he sees the provincial army losing against the 4th Armored Division, he swoops in to help out, but doesn’t try to win. 

He manages to let the battle end in a draw and the Noble Alliance retreats for a bit. Not bad for his first battle, but he is shaken by seeing the fatalities and the wounded. He feels guilty because he’s not trying to end the war as soon as possible. Even if the goal is to avoid the Great Twilight, he hates that lives still have to be sacrificed for it. 

Rean feels like a fool. He said he wanted to cheat this war by saving as many lives as possible while on this side. He doesn't feel capable enough to make that happen. 

 

[Scene 3 - Guilt]

Rean and Crow are just chilling in their room. Crow is trying to get comfortable in his maid outfit, but the dress is too puffy— he can’t. Oh, the things he does for Rean and Class VII. 

Defeated, he settles for flopping onto the bed and flipping a coin—the one Rean gave him—in his hand. He notices how Rean has been preoccupied with his thoughts since he came back from his first battle. 

“Alright, that’s enough bottling up your feelings. It was my turn last time, now it’s your turn. What’s on your mind?”

Rean fidgets with his hands. “I hate this war. I hate how I’m not trying my hardest to end this war. I hate that I have to wait two months and let people suffer during that time until Vita’s plan bears fruit. I just… I feel like crap.”

Crow pats his back. “Hey, you’re not the only one bearing this guilt. I technically triggered this war, remember? And now I’m not doing much to end the war either. If you’re gonna hate yourself, then hate me as well.”

“Sometimes I just want to hate myself only, you know?” Rean sighs.

“None of that while I’m around,” Crow teasingly flicks his forehead. “Like you said, if there’s hope for me, then there’s hope for you. We’re in this together, partner. Either we rise up and redeem ourselves or… eh, I ain’t opposed to walking in Gehenna with you.”

Rean looks at him in awe for a second. He considers a thought for a moment.

“I know I told the rest of Class VII I’d tell them the truth later, but since we’re… whatever we are, I think it’s only fair that I tell you something about myself.”

“Oh?”

“But before I say anything, I want you to show me that fifty mira trick.”

Crow clenches his fist around the coin in hand. “Oh, now you want to see the trick, after denying me for so long~” He pauses then hums. “Hmm, nah. I think I’ll keep this as a promise for our future. I ain’t showing you this trick until the end of the war, when we’re both alive.”

“But… If we’re going to get closer, I feel like you have a right to know—”

“I already know you have some weird power and that you’re an Ironblood. At this point, you could be McBurn’s cousin or Osborne’s blood and my heart would still be beating faster around you.”

“That’s so… sappy.”

“I don’t want to hear that from you!” Crow blushes. “But seriously. All I need to know to want to fuck you is that you’re Rean Schwarzer of Class VII. I don’t care for any other baggage that tags along to that name.”

“Thanks. But did you have to say it like that?” Rean runs a hand down his face. 

“I’m just being honest~”

Rean deadpans at him. “Then I hope you don't mind that this coin is racking up interest.”

“Hey, you didn't say there was any interest in this thing!”

---

Chapter 54 - Path of Redemption

At the end of the month, Rean tells Crow that it’s time to stop stalling and reunite with the class and make amends with them. Rean, in the meantime, will keep working with the Noble Alliance. 

The groups are the same. Note that Crow is unable to link with the people who lost their trust in him. He’s able to link with Fie, Millium, and Emma though, who happen to each be in a different group. 

• Celdic Machias, Elliot, Fie
• Nord: Gaius, Alisa,  Millium
• Legram-Bareahard: Laura, Jusis, Emma

 

[Crow POV]

Crow is questioning his whole life and all his decisions as he walks around Celdic, following a bunch of ridiculous clues to find his classmates. He comes across another orphan along the way, who is wandering alone in a monster-infested path. To no one’s surprise, monsters attack the boy.

Crow saves him by killing all the monsters. Having a soft spot for kids, he gives the boy sage advice: “How about you don’t stray too far away from the adults who can keep you safe?”

The boy lashes out at him with tearful anger. His parents had apparently died a long time ago, so he’s been being raised by his grandfather. It wasn’t so bad, until the Civil War started and his grandfather got caught up in the crossfire and had to be bedridden. 

The boy hates the terrorists and nobles for starting the war, is angry at everyone participating in the war, but most of all, he’s desperate for his remaining family to survive. With healing supplies at an all time low, the boy thought he should just get materials from the nature park for the church to make medicine from. 

It’s a familiar story.

Crow decides to postpone his reunion with the class and helps the boy out. He tells the boy to stay put in Celdic while he’ll just grab whatever materials the church needs from Lunaria Nature Park. 

It’s an easy affair. He grabs some herbs and walks back to Celdic. It does start pouring, so he takes shelter in a windmill… where he’s greeted with a shotgun and a gunblade. 

Thinking about it, that dumb clue from earlier makes a lot more sense now.

“Really, a whole month?!” Machias exclaims. “I know we said to give us time, but were you banking on letting time make us forget how angry we are? I ought to shoot you right now for that!”

Crow raises his hands in surrender. “I gotta be honest, this whole redemption and forgiveness thing ain’t really my forte…”

“That’s something I don’t get about you,” Fie says. “After having so much time to think, you made me realize you’re like Boss. You always go all in on a gamble. So, why’d you switch?”

Crow sighs. “Because I learned it was no gamble.”

Machias grumbles, “Then, the only reason you stayed with us was because Rean told you Osborne can’t die. Sure, you gained a massive dumb crush, but has the part of you that wanted to kill Osborne really changed? Or, if you knew you could kill him, would you still try?”

Since he had posed the same question to himself less than a month ago, Crow was somewhat prepared for this question. “If there were no consequences, I would still shoot him at the first chance I get. Back then, I didn’t care about the consequences because I knew I’d be a dead man anyway. But now…”

He thinks about how this war is affecting Rean, his friends, random people, and orphaned kids who only have their grandpa left. Sure, there’s some whole greater threat hanging over them and controlling the fate of this country, but Crow was still one to help set it in motion. He ain’t gonna blame fate for his actions. 

“I don’t think I would shoot him.”

“Well, that’s an improvement. I guess,” Machias sighs.

“But that doesn’t mean I trust you yet,” Elliot speaks up. “You prioritized your revenge plan over the lives of countless innocents. People have been dying every day since the war started. I know you aren’t the main cause, but does that give you any right to take away from others? I just… I don’t understand what you were thinking.”

Crow smiles bitterly. “Like I said, I didn’t care. That’s it. As long as I got the chance to shoot him, I didn’t care about what had to be sacrificed. That’s all I was thinking.”

“Don’t you think that kind of thinking is wrong?” 

“I didn’t say it was right. I always knew I was in the wrong, but I was just… bitter. Hateful. I’m as plain and simple as that.”

“Is that all you are?” Fie asks. 

He clenches the herbs in his hands.

“I guess not. Or else I wouldn’t be standing here…”

“Then, who are you?” Elliot asks. 

The turn in the conversation reminds him of the night before the Civil War started. When he grew doubtful of Rean when he saw him in that red winter jacket and ready to leave. When he asked Rean the same question. 

It had been so easy to say who he was back then because Rean’s confidence and acceptance of him made it easy to forget all the karma he’d been racking up. Now, faced with the consequences of his actions and with former-friends who can’t trust him anymore, he’s not sure who he’s allowed to be.

“I’m still trying to figure that out, but…” Crow shows them the herbs in his hands. “I think I’d like to start by stopping a kid from following my footsteps.”

With his classmates in tow, he returns to the boy and gives him the herbs. The boy rushes to the church, gets the medicine, and gives it to his grandfather. Like a miracle, the grandfather isn’t breathing so hard, breaks his fever, and finally opens his eyes for the first time in a week. The boy’s rage and despair melts away, leaving only hope and gratitude.

“Thanks, big brother Crow!”

Damn his heart. 

When they leave Celdic, he tells them about his past, about his motivations for revenge, and how that made him who he is today.

“That’s who Crow Armbrust is. It’s no excuse, but that’s who I am. Who I was. But…” 

He thinks about what a future with Rean and his friends will look like. He thinks about how Scarlet’s been doing since she left the ILF. He thinks about how he’s not allowed to take the easy way out anymore. Fie’s right. Once he makes up his mind, he goes all in.

“...Who I think I want to be right now is to make amends and slack off in your class until I graduate. If you’ll have me.”

He hesitantly reaches his hand out as a sign of peace. 

He gets punched in the face instead and stumbles to the ground. Before he completely falls, however, Machias grabs his hand.

“I’m Machias Regnitz, pleasure to meet you. I think I wanted to be someone who really wanted to punch you, but I guess that’s settled now. Anyway, nice to have you aboard.”

“Fie Claussell.” A small hand joined with theirs. “Nice to meet you, Crowtina.”

“You’re never going to let that one go, huh?”

“Nope.”

Then, Elliot joins their pile of hands. “Elliot Craig.” He smiles. “I’m glad you’re on our side, Crow.”

Rest of Celdic’s plot is probably the same, except maybe an addition of a gun duel between Class VII and Zephyr when they fight them at the end. Also cue successful linking!

They join up with Sara and regroup at Ymir which becomes their base of operations. It’s then that he learns that Alfin was kidnapped by the Noble Alliance and Elise is pissed.

Teo is also heavily wounded.

 

[Bonus]

“Oh yeah, Macchiato, didn’t you say you were going to eat your shoe if any one of us was a terrorist?”

“Why do you remember that, Fie?” Machias groans in frustration. “And this doesn’t count! Crow wasn’t even part of our class when I said that!”

“Why the heck were you even talking about any of you guys being a terrorist?”

“Feels like a long time ago,” Fie snickers. “But there was a point when we were wondering if Rean was a terrorist.”

Crow is choking at the idea. 

 

[Rean POV]

Rean travels through Western Erebonia, helping out whenever he can, but still feeling dragged down by the feeling of guilt. Celine tries her best to cheer him up, but only manages to snap at him.

“Get your head straight! You either do this or run away. Your choice!”

Rean awkwardly chuckles. “You’re supposed to tell me to just do it and not run away.”

“Ugh, this is what I hate about humans. Always doing things they don’t want because it’s too complicated. Why can’t you all just sleep when you want to, eat when you want to, and live as you please? Sacrifice this, sacrifice that! So dumb!”

Even though she ended up ranting and forgot she was supposed to cheer him up, Rean feels slightly better. He just has to steel his resolve every time he says a wounded soldier, crippling architecture, or a dead body. 

This is the path he chose.

He’ll make sure these sacrifices aren’t for nothing. 

On his travels, he actually meets Musse (as Mildine) when escorting Cayenne back to his home. Rean can’t tell what’s going on behind that innocent smile at all. And the way she keeps looking at him… Yeah, there’s something off about that one.

He also meets Ash and a certain fortune teller, saving them from a bunch of monsters.

“Hey, I didn’t need your help, asshole!” 

Because Rean’s so nice, he escorts them back to Raquel and listens to a bunch of colorful expletives along the way. He really doesn’t know if he did something to piss Ash off or if this is how he usually is. Not like Ash is cussing at the fortune teller either.

When they reach Raquel, Ash ditches them. The fortune teller offers to read Rean’s fortune. He says why not.

“So, I will place three cards down. The card on the left reads how the past influences your present. The card in the middle will represent the energies going on in the present. The card on the right reveals the direction your life seems to be moving in.”

“Okay…”

She flips the card on the left up. “Death,” she says. “I know it sounds ominous, but in this context, it represents cutting the cord to the past to be reborn for the present.”

Rean doesn’t know if this fortune teller is a real deal or not, but the reading does seem relevant enough to his experiences.

The middle card is flipped over. “The Sun. It means you’re trying to step into the light of truth.”

Fair enough.

The last card is revealed. The fortune teller lets out a sorrowful sound. “Oh, how unfortunate. This is The Devil. Negative forces will trap you in the future.”

Well, that’s grim and honestly not what he wants to hear. With how Ishmelga is very much still a present threat, it seems plausible, but… Even with how he’s changed things up, his future still looks dark? Would it look the same if he didn’t change anything?

He shakes his head. No use thinking of what ifs. This might even just be a hoax. He asks for another prediction. “What do I need to do to avoid that?”

The fortune teller pulls out another card. She looks at it, contemplative.

“Reverse Strength,” she eventually explains. “In this context, it can mean two things. One, it means you have no power to change your future.” Rean is really really hoping that this fortune teller is a hoax. “On the other hand, it could be referencing someone you know. Someone who is weak, insecure, and full of doubt may be key to helping you in the future.”

Rean frowns at her. “That doesn’t make any sense.”

“Sorry, I didn’t expect for this to have such a gloomy outcome. I thought this was just going to be some simple fun,” the fortune teller chuckles awkwardly. “So, how about we move away from this topic and talk about something more fun. Would you like me to read your tarot regarding your relationship?” 

Rean blushes and leaves. (How did she even know).

---

Chapter 55 - If You Can’t Make Even the First Step…

[Crow POV]

Before he leaves for Nord, Crow explains how he was a former terrorist to Sara, Toval and Elise.

Sara huffs. “Should’ve known you were more cunning than how you seemed. Ugh, I knew my Bracer instincts were tingling around you.”

Toval joins the conversation. “Speaking of which, you wanna be a Bracer? We could do with some extra help. Oh, and don’t worry about your shady past. We already have ex-enforcers, ex-jaegers, etc. Also, I heard from Carnelia that they got an ex-terrorist with them, so I don't think there's any problem with an ex-terrorist becoming a Bracer.”

Crow is getting whiplash for the slap on the wrist treatment he’s getting with them.

Then Elise slaps him in the face. “That’s what you get for kidnapping Alfin back then. And can you tell your friends to stop kidnapping her? She’s getting tired of it.”

“Last I heard, she’s waiting for a knight in shining armor to come to her rescue for the ultimate recipe of romance.”

Elise leers at him. “Shouldn’t you be concerned then? At this rate, Rean’s going to be that knight in shining armor.”

“Oh crap.”

…

Crow goes to the Nord Highlands and reunites with Gaius, Alisa, and Millium. The former two are ignoring him for obvious reasons, especially when Nord is currently being touched by war.

Millium breaks the ice. “Wow Crow, I know this isn’t the first time I’ve seen this place, but the Nord Highlands look as awesome as ever! Can’t believe you wanted to turn this place into dust, huh.”

When he’s not blinded by revenge and gives himself time to admire the view, he has to admit that she’s right. He runs his hand down his face. “Yeah, I was a selfish idiot.”

“Was? But you still are,” Millium tilts her head at him in confusion. “I know you’re helping us chase off the Noble Alliance and the Republic from this place, but you kinda skipped the first step, silly!”

As much as he tries, Crow has no idea what she’s talking about. 

“Man, even I know that the first thing you do after you make a mistake is…” She points at Gaius and Alisa, who are giving him the cold shoulder. “...to say sorry!”

Oh. 

He knows the word. He knows how to say it. But he doesn’t have the energy to form it in any breath he takes.

“I mean, you’re right. But, a sorry from me ain't gonna cut it.”

That’s when Alisa finally breaks her silence. “An apology isn’t about what you think it can or can’t do. A sorry is for us to decide whether to push things forward or to cut things loose. How can you prove to us that you want to be a better person if you can’t even take the first step?”

“I…” Crow starts and stops. “It doesn’t feel right.”

“Cause you’ve never done it before in a meaningful way,” Gaius chimes in. “A confession is supposed to be uncomfortable. It’s about bearing yourself open for us to see your sins. About letting us see who you really are and waiting for us to see if we’ll accept you or not. It’s heavy, but that’s what it means to be sorry.”

“I…” Crow looks away. Then realizes he has to put his all into this. He looks into their eyes. “I’m sorry for almost turning Nord into a battlefield in the past.”

No, that doesn't sound right. He remembers watching his plot in Nord unfold without remorse. If everything went according to plan, he wouldn’t be sorry for that. As much as it makes him sound like a complete asshole, this isn’t what he’s really sorry for. 

“I’m sorry for blowing up the mines in Roer.”

That's not right either… It was an integral part of the plan to fake his death to lower Osborne’s guard for the perfect assassination. Well, would-be-perfect if it wasn't discovered and if Osborne could've been killed. Also, while Alisa would slap him for thinking this, apologizing for his plot in Roer seems impersonal to him.

It was just an objective to him back then. He can’t see it as anything else. 

“I'm sorry for being a terrorist…”

Wrong. 

Another empty apology. How can he say sorry about something he put his all in, even if he knew it was wrong? It’s like saying I’m sorry I willingly decided to eat nails for breakfast. It doesn’t feel right.

Is it the words that are wrong? Or is he just… not sorry? It feels like the only thing he's sorry for is that all his efforts were for nothing.

Is it even possible to change if he isn’t sorry?

It seems they can tell, too. The narrowing glares tell him they're not convinced. Gaius is the first to nudge his horse to rush past him. Alisa doesn’t waste a second following him.

“Huh, now I get why my sorries don’t sound so good,” Millium stares at him like she just solved a puzzle before heading off with the others. “Lechter says a good apology needs to be about them, not you.”

What the hell does that mean? 

Despite the silent treatment from half their party, Crow still tags along with them. It’s strange how he’s stuck linking with Millium when he’d been most cautious of her in the beginning, but he helps out as much as he can. Even if he’s not sorry or even if he doesn’t know how to be sorry, that doesn’t mean he can’t help protect their homes, since they care about it so much…

Oh. 

Wait.

He thinks he gets it now.

Before they charge into the watchtower, Crow speaks up. 

“I’m sorry for not being able to understand how much your homes mean to you.” Especially when mine turned their back on me and my old man.

These words earn him a curious glance. He keeps going.

“I’m sorry for pretending to be a friend while I hurt the people and things you care about behind your back.”

And going.

“You don’t deserve to have to deal with me when I’ve betrayed you multiple times, but I don’t want to hurt you or anyone else anymore for the sake of revenge. I’m going to be better, so… Is there anything I can do to make you forgive me?”

Alisa and Gaius glance at each other before giving him their full attention. .

“I still won’t forgive you for what you did to my homeland in the past,” Gaius says, but he’s showing a small smile. He even holds his hand out. “But, I’ll be happy if you could help me save my home this time, C.”

Crow grins, tightly grabbing his hand. “Call me Crow Armbrust. By the end of the day, I’ll be a certified Nord Highlands protector, just watch~” 

They shake hands. “Gaius Worzel. Glad that you’re on our side.”

Alisa joins in. “Alisa Reinford. Just letting you know that I’ll shoot you full of arrows if you betray us again.”

“Thanks for the warning…”

They look to Millium who shakes their head at them.

“What’s with all this formal hand shake business?” A bright grin spreads across her face. “You know what this calls for? Millium Orion here for a big group hug!” 

They all tumble to the grass in a warm tangled mess. 

It makes Crow feel less regretful.

The rest of Nord is probably the same-ish. Cue successful linking! They beat off Bleublanc and Altina at the watchtower. Sharon joins them. They regroup in Ymir. 

 

[Rean POV]

• Rean meets with Claire and Lechter out of pure coincidence.
• Lechter implies that he found out Rean’s connection to the Ashen Saint thanks to Millium’s reports. 
• They notice how he’s looking exhausted and they’re surprised he’s even working with the Noble Alliance, considering they kinda killed Osborne.
• “I know you both don’t believe that he’s actually dead.”
• “Got me there,” Lechter shrugs. 
• “Still, take care of yourself, Rean. Like Millium, you’re like a little brother to us.” Claire says. “The role you’ve found yourself in isn't easy, don’t pretend otherwise.”
• “Yeah, the old man will have my head if something terrible happens to you. Again.”
• Rean assures them that he'll be fine. They separate.

 

It’s raining. In the aftermath of one of the battles that resulted in a higher number of casualties, Rean finds a survivor hiding in some bushes. They look heavily injured though, a large trail of blood is leaking from their stomach.

Rean goes to help him. His hand is slapped away.

“Get your hands away from me, Schwarzer!”

His eyes widen when he realizes that he’s faced with Alphonse.

“Seriously, thanks to you, my family decided the only way to prove myself was to throw me into this goddess-forsaken war and become a hero! And look where I am now. Bleeding in the middle of Aidios-knows-where in front of my sworn enemy! DAMMIT!”

Rean reaches for his ARCUS but realizes it has no more EP. He’s used up all his charges and other items helping all the other soldiers and civilians who got caught up in the mess. He takes his jacket off and tries to use it to staunch the bleeding.

“I WOULD RATHER DIE THAN RECEIVE HELP FROM YOU!” Alphonse screams at him and pushes him away. “This is all your fault! If I’m going to die, then I can at least be happy knowing that my death will curse you..!”

“You want to die for something like that?” Rean exclaims. “What’s wrong with you?!”

“It’s not like there’s much worth living for,” Alphonse spits out. “I’m never going to prove myself to my family, might as well throw out the trash and give up.”

“That’s not true—”

“Says the one who tried killing himself despite all the love he gets from his family and friends! I don’t need to hear this from you! Now, can you kindly shut up?”

Rean hisses. He may hate this guy’s guts, but... “I’m better now, I’m not just going to let you die!”

“You’re as worthless as me! You’re no hero! You can’t save me. You can’t save anyone!” Alphonse’s voice starts to grow weaker. “And, since you’re as pathetic as me… Your friends… cannot save you!”

Since Alphonse is too weak to fight back now, Rean forces him to get his wounds treated. “You can be saved if you just make the first step and let yourself be helped!”

“Help..? I can’t believe I’m only realizing this now.” Alphonse laughs without humor. “There is no help. That’s all a lie. We live alone. And we die… alone.”

Rean grits his teeth as he stops the bleeding as best he can and tries carrying Alphonse to a medic tent. He’s all muddy and bloody and his whole body is trembling and shaking under the other’s weight. He ignores how he doesn’t hear any breaths.

He gets to the medical tent. It’s already a mess with medics running around and keeping the other injured alive. One medic looks at him, assesses Alphonse for one minute.

She shakes her head.

Leaving Rean with a dead body on his back as she tends to the next soldier. 

…

Soaked in rain and blood, Rean returns to Valimar and Celine. He’s silent when they greet him. He just tells them that they’re going to go back to the Pantagruel. They look at him in concern, but no matter how much they probe him to open up, he refuses.

He locks himself in his room. He’s not sad. Doesn’t want to cry or anything. He just feels so… heavy.

Devastated.

.

.

.

.

It’s a sleepless night.

When sunlight filters through the window. There’s a knock on his door. He ignores it.

“Rean, I know you're in there sulking. Celine told me. Open up.”

His brain malfunctions for a minute as he places a name to that voice. There’s no way he’s here.

“Good morning, Rean!” A new voice sounds from the door. 

Wait.

What is she doing here? What are they doing here?

“It’s embarrassing to say this, but I got kidnapped again. Can I see you? It would be nice to see a familiar face for a change.”

Rean reluctantly opens the door. Alfin and Jusis gasp at him in shock. He hasn’t changed from his clothes from last night, so he’s still muddy and bloody. 

“Rean! Uh, pardon my language, but you look like a mess. Here, I’ll fetch you some towels.”

“I can’t ask a princess to do that for me.”

Alfin pouts at him. 

Jusis rolls his eyes. “Fine, then I'll fetch you some towels because I'm not a princess. But, you’re taking a shower and that’s final.”

“But—” 

“No buts!  I can't have my best friend’s brother in such a state while I’m here! You’re taking a shower or…” Alfin waggles her eyebrows at him. “Would you like me to take a shower with you?”

That kicks Rean into gear. He takes the towels and a fresh set of clothes and takes a shower. In the meantime, Alfin and Jusis get the cleaning staff to clean his room. 

(Celine shakes her head at the scene and sighs, “Finally.”)

When Rean returns, Alfin asks, “Do you feel better?”

The incident last night keeps repeating in his head. Rean mutters, “I guess.”

They analyze his attitude and posture for a moment before Alfin claps her hands. “Then that means you’re good enough to join my tea party.” She grabs his hand. “Let's go!”

They have tea. Alfin explains that she was kidnapped in Ymir, but Elise is fine so he doesn't need to worry about her.

As for Jusis… “As the son of Duke Albarea, it’s my duty to fight for the Noble Alliance. Though I only used that as an excuse to see you, and I’m glad I did. To be quite frank, you look terrible.”

Rean’s vision shakes at the thought of Jusis donning the provincial army’s uniform and… 

A ghost of Alphonse’ corpse overlaps with Jusis. Blood trailing down from the mouth, eyes, and stomach. Rean flinches, but the visage disappears a second later. His heart sinks at the thought of his friend ending up like that. 

Aidios, he would break if one of his friends were to die from this war. 

How selfish is he to wish all his friends safe when he lets this war continue to wage, taking the lives of more each day? He— He doesn’t know what he’s doing anymore. His and Vita’s goals seem so less worth it.

And the fact that Dad had planned to let the curse go 100% and potentially wage a world war to end this curse? He doesn’t know how they can handle that mental burden of having so many lives on their hands, or maybe they just accept that they’re going to Gehenna…

| Rean, breathe. |

He slowly returns to the present when he can hear a familiar pattern of knocks and thuds. A sharp inhale for breath overtakes him as he focuses on the two blonde blurbs hovering over him. His fingers dig into his knees as he takes another couple of breaths. 

“Now I’m really glad I came here,” Jusis says bluntly, though there’s an edge of concern in his voice. “What happened to you? And why isn’t that dumb bird anywhere around to give you support?”

It takes him a moment to process what Jusis is referring to. “You know, war stuff. I’m a little shaken.” He exhales deeply. “And Crow set off on a journey to reunite the rest of Class VII and apologize to you all.”

“What kind of blithering idiot takes more than a month to make an apology? I thought he gave up because of his radio silence,” Jusis huffs. “But enough of that. Back to you, you’re obviously more than a little shaken.”

Rean can’t find any words to say. He still can’t shake off the ghost. 

.

“You can’t save anyone!” 

.

He can’t shake it off him…

“Do you need me to recite what everyone in Class VII has said to you about opening up?”

“I…” He shakes his head and takes a deep breath. Alphonse’s words and fate have shaken him, but that doesn’t mean he should start following in his footsteps. He needs to follow his own advice.

Reach out.

Reach out…

“I feel powerless,” Rean lets out an empty chuckle. “I know it doesn’t make sense, considering I have Valimar, my own power, and my training, but I just feel… dread. That everything I’m doing is wrong.” 

He sighs, covering his face with his hands.

“Really, I’ve had this conversation enough times with Crow, Celine, and Valimar. I know it’s all for a long-term goal and I keep trying to believe that I’m not weak. I’m just… going through it, I guess.”

“Then I won’t repeat what you already know,” Jusis huffs. “But it doesn’t hurt to have the same conversation to remind yourself of what you’re fighting for when you’re feeling doubtful.”

Rean sighs. “I kind of feel pathetic for needing to hear the same reminders over and over again. It’s like I can’t learn.”

Alfin contemplates that for a bit until her face lightens up with cheer. She claps her hands together. “Well then, instead of hearing some encouraging words, let's try something different! This is perfect timing, actually.”

He and Jusis give her a confused look. Alfin stands up from her chair and curtsies.

“Well, I just so happen to be a kidnapped princess who needs a little saving from a knight in shining armor.” She smiles. “There’s only one objectively good thing to do in this situation, so I say take this opportunity to prove that you’re not powerless and wrong!”

---

Chapter 56 - Reconnection

[Crow POV]

When Crow enters Legram, he can’t find Emma, Laura, or Jusis anywhere. He talks to the townsfolk and they say that they saw Laura and Emma go off to investigate Lohengrin Castle. Apparently, supernatural stuff is happening there. And it just so happens that it’s nighttime, so Crow has to go off on his own to see this haunted castle at night again.

Before he opens the front gates, he hears a scream that sounds a lot like Emma. He kicks the doors open and sees Emma on the floor. Laura is creeping towards her, swinging her heavy blade off from the ground.

“Crow!” Emma yells. “Laura's been possessed by ghosts!”

Not this ghost nonsense again. 

Laura starts charging toward Emma, but Crow summons his double saber and blocks the hit.

In an instant, he’s greeted by a greatsword swinging down his face. Crow jumps away the last minute unscathed, as the sword digs deep into the ground and he can feel its vibrations in his feet. 

“Laura, it’d be really nice if you could snap out of it right about now!” 

She doesn’t say anything as she charges toward him again. He leads her away from Emma, who appears unable to move.

They have a whole fight, but Crow manages to pull a win over her.

Laura sighs, sounding disappointed. “Almost had you.”

“Wait, so you're not possessed?”

“No, I just wanted to test my strength against you,” she says. “Looks like I still have a long way to go…”

Emma adds, “Also, we heard from the others that you've been going around unifying the class and making amends with them. We figured we'd give you a change of pace.”

Crow scratches the back of his head. “I can't say being attacked by you guys is a change of pace.”

“Still, a clash of one's blades can say more than words,” Laura says. “I'll say you passed the test.”

Emma nods. “I know it was an act, but thanks for protecting me.”

“No problem, but uhh… Thanks for giving me a chance,” Crow says, feeling his cheeks heat up slightly. “And I'm sorry for fooling all of you into believing you could trust me.”

Laura waves him off. “Fortunately, I don't think it's impossible for me to place my trust in you again, Crow Armbrust.”

“Hey, I’m supposed to reintroduce myself first,” Crow sighs. “Man, you guys really went full throttle with this change of pace thing, huh? Oh whatever, it’s nice seeing you both again, Laura Arseid and Emma Milstein.”

Emma coughs. “Um, it’s Laura S. Arseid.”

“Sheesh, can you blame a guy for not remembering everyone’s middle initial? You guys have high standards, I swear.”

Laura chuckles. “Well, said high standards are still willing to welcome you, Crow.”

This is getting too sappy for Crow. “ANYWAY, are there any more surprises I should expect? Is Jusis going to appear out of nowhere and stab me in the back or something?”

“Actually…”

They explain that Jusis went and joined the Noble Alliance. Last they heard, he went aboard the Pantagruel. 

Crow groans. “Please do not tell me that I have to wear that dumb maid outfit again just to drag him back here.”

 

[Rean POV]

[A/N]: Since Rean had been busy traveling through Western Erebonia, he isn’t aware that Ymir was attacked by jaegers in their successful attempt to kidnap Alfin. Something something plot reason why Class VII haven’t contacted him via ARCUS to tell him about it. Alfin and Jusis are aware, but they haven’t told Rean, seeing how he’s already in poor emotional shape. 

Just as Rean, Jusis, Celine, and Alfin are plotting their escape plan, Rean is summoned to the cockpit to talk to Cayenne. Cayenne shares intel that they found out that Crow’s hiding out in Ymir. He says that the plan is to invade Ymir to drag Crow out and invite him back to the Noble Alliance’s side.

Rean stares at him in horror. “Have you forgotten that Ymir’s my hometown?”

“No. We’ve been largely ignoring it despite its refusal to join the Noble Alliance because of you, but the benefits of having two Awakeners on our side outweigh the cost of a little damage. Don’t you want this war to end as soon as possible?”

“Ymir doesn’t deserve to get dragged into this mess, especially when it’s just a neutral party.”

“I know we all have homes we want to protect,” Cayenne tsks. “But don’t you think it’s selfish of you to prioritize keeping your little town safe over having peace over the whole country?”

He’s not going to fall for this. Thanks to all the emotional manipulation Alberich has thrown at him before, he can say he’s more immune to these tactics now.

He takes a deep breath.

Timeline-wise, it’s been about a month and a half since the war began. The timing really couldn’t be more perfect.

“You’re right,” Rean eventually says after a long exhale. “The war will end faster with two Awakeners on the same side.”

“I’m glad you understand.”

His gut screams at him when a sinister smile twitches at the edges of Cayenne’s mouth.

With a single raise of a hand, the two provincial army soldiers standing by Rean’s side are suddenly pointing their guns at him. Instinctively, he places his hand on the hilt of his sword, glaring at Cayenne.

“I know you’ve been plotting an escape with Princess Alfin and Helmut’s kid,” Cayenne explains. “I’m also aware that you’re the reason why Armbrust jumped ship. If you peacefully give up your plans, then I’ll be nice and do little harm to Ymir. I believe your head will be enough to ensure Armbrust’s cooperation. If not, then I’m sure Helmut can send jaegers to raze your home to the ground and properly kill Baron Schwarzer for real this time.”

THUMP

“What?” Rean bites his tongue the moment he hears his voice, his mind a whirlwind of thoughts. In addition to the implications that his adoptive father and Ymir have been attacked before, it’s been a long time since he’s felt himself lose control. Though maybe he shouldn’t be surprised. With everything he’s been experiencing in this damned war, he’s been hating himself more. 

Doubting himself. 

Regretting.

.

He’s falling again.

.

.

He can feel it. He can see it. It’s the unending darkness.

He’s always doomed to fall.

.

.

.

“Fall.”

|

No, dammit!

The sound of steel flashing against his scabbard reverberates through the area, bringing light back into his eyes. There are splashes of blood flying in three different directions. The two soldiers stumble to the ground. 

Rean feels his shoulder aching. Not that it matters. His focus is trying to control the irresistible urg̷e̷ ̴ t̶o̸ kill everyone in this room—

— SLICE — 

Rean lets out a deep breath of air as a shallow line of blood leaks from his skin. He doesn’t hate himself, not like back then. It’s just that old habits apparently die hard, and he’s in no situation to use any other solution to calm himself down without getting gunned down in the process. 

No, he hasn’t lost control. Everything is clear. Cayenne is shouting for help. The two soldiers on the ground have minor cuts; however, their guns are in pieces on the ground. The doors slam open and more soldiers come rushing in.

The only escape… The windows. 

He doesn’t hesitate to charge forward and crash through the glass, vaguely feeling some shards dig into his skin. The air rushes against him. He falls in the present this time, but he’s calm. He’s aware he just jumped from the second floor of the ship. That means—

He uses his sword to claw at the side of the Pantagruel when he sees another large pane of glass to reenter the ship from. He uses the momentum to crash into the windows again and land roughly against the floor.

“Ashen Saint?”

Looks like he landed in Altina’s room. He’ll have to apologize to her later.

He sprints out of her room and back to his own, hearing the provincial army soldiers' footsteps rushing down from the second floor. He doesn’t give Jusis, Alfin, or Celine the chance to react when rushes in and yells, “The vents, go! We need to get to Valimar!”

“Rean,” Jusis asks while they’re climbing through the vents. “Are you still in control of your power?”

“Mostly,” he huffs, trying to ignore the rage bubbling in his veins. “I don’t feel like hurting you or myself at least.”

It’s true. When they exit the ducts and reach a hall full of archaisms they need to fight, he wields his power without fear of losing control. Yes, it feels slightly less stable, but he can manage. Why it’s even slightly unstable or why the power burst forth without him calling for it, he doesn’t know. He supposes they’ll be mysteries to solve later.

By the time he faces the terrorists and the two elite Zephyr jaegers, it’s obvious that Cayenne has ordered everyone on this ship to capture them.

By the time he fights Bleublanc, Duvalie, and Vita, it’s clear that they’re not trying so hard to catch them. That probably means that their escape plan has Vita’s approval. However, when they reach the deck, they come face to face with McBurn…

“Just like old times, huh, Kid?”

Celine screeches at him. “What does that mean? You fought this madman as a kid?! What the heck is wrong with you!”

“I hope this will be part of your explanation later, Rean,” Jusis mutters. 

Alfin just looks at him in awe. “To think that you already have experience fighting demons. It’s just like in that one novel with the white knight~”

“This isn't the time, princess!”

“Just back me up and stay away from his flames. They’re not normal!”

“Like yours?” Jusis huffs.

Just as McBurn throws a wave of fire at him, Rean lights his own sword with black and white flames and cuts through the attack.

“To think that there are flames that mine can’t burn,” McBurn smirks wildly at him. “I knew you wouldn’t disappoint, Kid! Maybe I can heat things up a little!”

Please no. Even with Jusis’ and Celine’s support, he’s barely keeping up.

“That won’t be necessary!”

The voice is instantly recognizable. A giant flash of blue zooms from his peripheral until it lands in front of him, taking the form of Crow’s Divine Knight, Ordine. 

From inside, a voice chuckles, “Heh, I always wanted to say that.”

“Crow?!” 

“That’s my name~ And I’m not alone.”

A blur of red approaches from the distance, eventually revealing Prince Olivert’s Courageous, now flying side-by-side with the Pantagruel. On its deck is the rest of Class VII, as well as Sara, Toval, and Elise.

The timing is almost too perfect. Out of the corner of his eye, he sees Vita wink.

Looks like she approves of their escape plan. 

Seeing how the tides have changed, he doubts Cayenne will get what he wants. Rean lets go of his power, letting his hair wash back into black. He ignores McBurn’s disappointed groan. 

With the threat of facing two Divine Knights at the same time, and per Rufus’ advice and Vita’s reassurance that this will not change their plans, Cayenne backs off and says he’ll let them go.

Rean and Jusis reunite with the rest of Class VII. Cue massive group hug. Meanwhile Elise and Alfin have their own little reunion hug. 

It’s stunning how the presence of all his friends immediately lifts his spirits. He feels like he’s never needed to hug anyone so tight before, but here he is, squeezing his arms as tightly as possible around whoever was in range. He misses this. They flood them with warmth, hope, and the reminder that everything… won’t be for nothing. 

He’ll make sure of it. 

 

---

---

 

We cultivate love when we allow our most vulnerable and powerful selves to be deeply seen and known, and when we honor the spiritual connection that grows from that offering with trust, respect, kindness and affection.

Love is not something we give or get; it is something that we nurture and grow, a connection that can only be cultivated between two people when it exists within each one of them – we can only love others as much as we love ourselves.

Shame, blame, disrespect, betrayal, and the withholding of affection damage the roots from which love grows. Love can only survive these injuries if they are acknowledged, healed and rare.

~ Brené Brown

Notes:

So… yeah, I didn't think I needed to split CS2 into yet another part (since I already planned the Divertissement as a separate chapter), but here I am. It started off as 8,000+ words, ended up being 25,000+ words long without splitting it… I haven't even finished fleshing out part 2. Why do I do this to myself lmao

I know Valimar is not getting any spotlight, but his moments in CSIII make up for it big time, mark my words :3 I might try getting the Ironbloods more time to shine, but we’ll see how much of a headache these twists and turns give me lol.

For the tarot reading, I did bare minimum research on that like two years ago and now I forgot. I contemplated shoving the Hanged Man in there, but nahhhh, that’s too obvious for you all lol.

But look at that! They’re all together and reunited. Next part of CSII will be very happy for everyone, I promise. I’ll even give you a sneak peek of the happiness ahead :)

—-

“So, Rean, we got a million questions for you, but the most burning question of them all is…” She takes a deep breath, creating very much unneeded suspense with a pause. “How’d you convince Crow to stop the whole terrorism gig?”

Crow smirks and says, “Well, Rean made a deal with me.”

Rean raises his brow, wondering what nonsense this guy was going to come up with this time.

“If I quit terrorism, he said he’d marry me.”

Utter silence.

Cue Rean facepalm. “I didn’t say that.”

“WAIT, YOU TWO ARE A THING?!” Machias slams the table. “Dammit, I lost the bet!”

“Yeah, I didn’t mention anything earlier because the whole redemption thing takes priority, but yeah. We’re a thing.”

Cue screaming.

Chapter 30: CSII - Part Two

Notes:

I need to stop uploading at the dead of night. My eyes... so tired lmao

Also, a couple bits were written like two years ago and... I have no idea what I was on while writing it, but reading it in the present sure was making me O_O lmao. Still, I decided not to touch it too much, it is what it is I guess. Hope you enjoy~

“There is only one basic human right, the right to do as you damn well please. And with it comes the only basic human duty, the duty to take the consequences.”

P. J. O'Rourke

 

---

Chapter 57 - Pride of Our Bonds

[Scene 1 - Warning]

“You're slipping.”

Rean blinked, suddenly face to face with the visage of his inner power. He was back in his mind space, standing on the endless still water with the rising dawn as a backdrop. 

The last time a meeting like this happened was back in Legram, when he finally accepted himself during the fight with Victor S. Arseid. Being in harmony with himself since then, he would think these meetings would never happen again…

“What are you talking about? I'm stronger than I was before. I ask for help more than ever before.” 

He could even believe himself to be better and somewhat proud of himself, thanks to all his friend's help. He wasn't perfect, nowhere close to perfect. But, he wasn't the worst that he could be.

He thought back to what he had just been doing. Right, he had been reuniting with his friends. He had been getting ready to share almost everything with them.

“I'm even making my own choices and opening up to them about my plans. How can I be slipping?”

“Because you're becoming greedy. It's no surprise, considering you initially wanted nothing except death. But, now that you have a taste of what you could have, your hunger has become as endless as the void.”

Rean frowned, crossing his arms. “I don't see how I'm being greedy.”

“You want to live. You want your friends to live. You want everyone to live. It's unrealistic. You forget that you're in a war with a curse, a curse that demands loss and sacrifice. Inevitably, what you fight for is a losing battle.”

He knew this already. He knew it from the neverending dread bearing down on his chest. He knew it from the tremors that control his body at the thought of… 

He took a long breath in. A slow breath out. “Is it wrong to want everyone to live?”

“People become devastated when they cannot have what they want. You set yourself up for disaster if you want too much of what you can't have. That's why you are slipping, because you're already losing things you don't wish to sacrifice.”

His teeth grit. “I can’t stop wanting for everyone to live their lives in peace.”

The reflection of his power narrowed its eyes at him, unamused. But, it wasn’t angry. If anything, it seemed resigned.

“I know. You are too kind. You always have been, and it’s made you a guiding light for others… It also makes you weak.”

The rays of dawn suddenly dimmed. Rean took a step back, sensing the other’s aura grow thicker— so thick it was eating away the air. He choked and almost stumbled when his foot sunk into the water. He looked down to see it losing color. Everything was becoming black again.

“I fear for how easily that kindness can be crushed by despair.”

He was sinking. This shouldn’t be happening. He wasn’t scared. He wasn’t that hateful. He shouldn’t be feeling like he was losing control.

Staring back at the manifestation of his power, he tried to voice his confusion, but he found that he couldn’t speak. The other seemed unfazed by his helplessness and by all the changes going on in their environment. Judging by its steel gaze, it only seemed determined to pass on a warning.

“No matter how much you may lose in the future, do whatever it takes to not let that one piece shatter.” 

Everything was fading.

“If you can, then I—”

“Rean!”

 

[Scene 2 - Revelation]

His eyes snapped open. Light returned to his vision, along with the concerned faces of all his friends looking at him. They were all seated at the conference room of the Courageous. Right, he remembered that he was about to tell them everything.

“Hey, are you sure you’re alright?” Crow asked, carefully nudging him. “You keep zoning out.”

Out of habit, he wore a smile to show them that he was all fine, though he doubted any would believe him at this point.

“I think it’s obvious from the bags under his eyes that he hasn’t been doing alright,” Jusis huffed at Crow, then quickly returning his attention back to Rean. “You look like you haven’t slept well in days. I know you tried minimizing the issue by calling it war stuff, but even the most decorated veterans are scarred by war.”

“Yeah,” Machias added. “You can stop pretending that you’re okay now that we’re all here.”

“As if your presence will bring relief to anyone’s mind, Regnitz.”

“CAN ANYONE IN THIS CLASS READ THE ROOM?!”

That choked out a chuckle out of him, breaking through the overwhelming memories of the war and the warning his power gave him. 

“Thanks,” he breathed out. “But, I have to explain the reason why I joined Class VII and the Noble Alliance for any of my feelings to be understood.”

“Oh, then can you preface this by saying whether or not your reasons were nefarious?” Alisa asked, sheepishly twirling her hair. “I need to prepare myself in case I feel the need to slap you or hug you.”

“What the heck is this unfair treatment?” Crow rounded on her in betrayal. “How come Rean gets a warning and I don’t?”

Alisa grumbled at him. “Well, you didn’t warn us that you were a terrorist beforehand, now did you?”

“Plus, your face is so punchable,” Fie snickered.

“Man, you guys are ruthless,” Crow sighed before winking at Rean. “Well, at least you don't think so.”

Rean smiled, seeing how the others seemed to make amends with the former-terrorist, though it seemed like he wouldn’t be spared from endless teasing in the future. In the end, there was nothing to worry about.

Plucking out a few books from his back, he leaned forward and placed them on the table. He couldn’t believe he was actually doing this…

“Have you guys heard of the Great One?” 

Most shook their heads, but to his surprise, Emma and Gaius nodded. Emma had seemed so out of the loop about the purpose of the Divine Knights back when she helped him pilot Valimar a couple months ago, so it seemed that she did more research in the months they had apart. As for Gaius, he didn’t even know how he would have access to this kind of information. 

Emma and Gaius explain the basic information about how it's a sept terrion forged by the sept terrains of earth and fire and how it's been divided into the seven divine knights.

“I feel like I’ve stepped into an alternate universe with all this new information,” Laura muttered. 

“I couldn’t even do that well in history!” Millium blurted out. “Now you’re telling me it gets even wackier?!”

“Well, it does get weirder.” Rean looked down on the table, noticing how his nails were digging into his palms. Here went nothing… “How much do you two know about the name Ishmelga?”

“Oh, that’s the name of one of the Divine Knights,” Emma answered. “Not much is known about it, and it hasn’t caused any ripples through history like the Vermillion Apocalypse.”

“Alright, you lost me,” Fie said as she kicked her feet up the table and leaned back. “Wake me up for a crash course later.”

Elliot nodded. “I’d have trouble believing any of this, but since the three of you are on the same page, it can’t be made up.”

Alisa made a point to stare at Crow. “How come you’re an Awakener and you don’t know any of this?”

“Hey, Vita just told me all I needed to know was to use Ordine to beat the other Divine Knights up. I didn’t care about the details as long as I got to complete my goal.”

Jusis huffed. “How useful are you?”

“Hey!”

“I’ll try to keep it as simple as possible,” Rean said, trying to steer them back to the conversation. The whole thing was a convoluted mess, so he doubted they would even fully understand without multiple explanations. “Basically, each Divine Knight is influenced by mankind. Ishmelga, in particular, is influenced by the worst aspects of humanity, and desires to become a god through acquiring the Great One. He's actually the one who helped trigger the war of the lions and the tragedy of Hamel, and he's going to keep influencing more tragedies until he gets what he wants.”

He could hear crickets in the air from how silent everyone was. It really was a lot of crazy information to dump on them in one sitting.

“But that’s… impossible.” Emma finally muttered.

Rean pushed his two books out toward the center of their table. Gaius and Emma were the only ones who bothered to pick up the books and flip through them. “It is possible. These are the Black Records, and they foretell the steps required to reawaken the Great One. Though they’ve been damaged to a point where much of the text is unreadable, and I don’t have all of the texts.”

Crow hummed before also digging into his bag and grabbing out identical books. “Oh, so that’s what these are. I picked them up while I was picking up everyone around the country… Hey, why are you looking at me like that?”

Rean’s eyes sparkled, the history nerd within him screaming in glee. He already knew the basic gist of what was in these books, but to have the complete collection?

He was not one to show public affection, but there was an urge to show his gratitude. So instead of giving him a kiss, he patted Crow’s head. “I really, really like you now.”

“Oh, two reallys now? I’m moving up in the world~”

“Ugh,” Jusis groaned. “As a commoner would say: Get a room.”

“Sorry,” Rean smiled. “I’ll spare all those details for later. I'm sure you're all more interested in how this relates to my goal.”

That got more heads to perk up in interest.

Now, this was the tricky part. As much as he wanted to tell them everything, he couldn't give them any clue that his dad was planning for Ishmelga’s demise. It was of highest importance that Ishmelga believe that Dad was under his complete will. If he caught a whiff that Dad’s will was as indomitable as ever, then Ishmelga would do worse things just to subjugate Dad.

It wasn't that he didn't trust his friends to keep this a secret. He was just… paranoid. This was absolutely the last thing he wanted to mess up for Dad.

So, that meant he couldn’t say that Dad was doing this to end the curse. He couldn’t say that he joined this class to see if the seeds Prince Olivert had been planting would be any force to be reckoned with in the future. He couldn’t say that his dad only made a pact with Ishmelga just to save his life. 

There would still be quite a few secrets, but Rean didn’t feel guilty about it this time. There was still plenty to say for them to understand who Rean was and is.

“As you may have guessed, I was sent here to become Valimar’s Awakener.” It was still the truth. “That was my whole purpose, to further progress the awakening of the Great One by unsealing one of the seven Divine Knights. And then, whenever the rivalries are unlocked, I would have to fight until the end.”

“Wait, that’s all you have to do as an Ironblood?” Millium asked. “You didn’t have to do any espionage or arresting or anything?”

“I did have other missions, but I promised Crow to not reveal the details until after the war.”

Crow nudged him on the side. “Hey, I don’t remember making a promise like that!”

“You did, when you refused to show me your fifty mira trick until after the war.”

“Wait, that was the secret you were trying to tell me back then? Damn.”

Yeah, Rean had planned to reveal that he was the Ashen Saint by catching the coin before it would land in Crow’s bag and explaining how he already knew the trick. He had even planned to reveal that he was Osborne’s biological son because he didn’t think Crow would appreciate dating the actual son of his sworn enemy. But then Crow said…

“At this point, you could be McBurn’s cousin or Osborne’s blood and my heart would still be beating faster around you.”

…and so telling the truth didn’t seem to have any urgency anymore. 

“We really don’t have to wait until after the war though,” Rean said. “If you want to know more, then just show me the trick first.”

Crow shook his head. “Nah, a promise is a promise, and I plan on keeping my promises from here on out.”

“What was the promise?” Laura asked.

“To see the end of the war together,” Crow shrugged. “It really goes to show how much your positivity and naivete have influenced a pessimist like me to say something like that.”

Millium pouted. “Well, we’re not Crow, so can you spill the deets with us when he’s not here?”

“Sorry, this is something I think Crow should be the first to know.”

Though it wasn’t like Elliot didn’t already know his true heritage. 

“Anyway, back to the topic,” Rean muttered. “Where was I again?”

Gaius answered for him. “You were talking about how your main purpose as an Ironblood was to awaken Valimar and fight in the rivalries. Though, I do have a question about that.”

“What is it?”

“Like you said, all this talk of Divine Knights would be brushed off as a fairy tale by any ordinary person. How did Chancellor Osborne convince you this was something worth fighting for? Actually, what even is the chancellor’s connection to this?”

An awkward smile tugged at the edge of his lips. “Well, to answer your second question, Chancellor Osborne is Ishmelga’s Awakener.”

Celine groaned. “Are you kidding me?”

Crow whistled. “Figures that the bastard would awaken a Divine Knight fueled by the literal worst aspects of humanity.”

“Haha…” Okay this was really awkward now. He knew he couldn't change Crow’s perspective, but it was going to be rough talking to him about his dad. “Anyway, to answer your first question, Gaius, I didn’t need any convincing about the Divine Knights in the first place. Long before I became an Ironblood, I already knew about them.”

He looked over to where Laura, Fie, Jusis, and Machias were sitting. It felt like such a long time since their talk in Bareahard. To think he would reach a point where he would tell them a fuller truth…

“Remember when I told you about how my biological parents and I had been attacked by jaegers? I told you my mom had died, but I didn’t tell you that I had died as well.” He placed a hand on his heart as he heard a wave of gasps spread around the room. “This scar on my chest… It’s from when a piece of debris from an explosion pierced through my heart.”

Elliot’s voice trembled, along with the rest of his body. “W- Wait, then how are you..?”

“Ishmelga made a pact with me so that I could survive. My ogre power is actually a remnant of him,” he said, staring down at his hands. He could still feel the power thrumming from within, though it didn’t feel unstable. It seemed like that conversation with himself earlier was more of a warning than a present change. “For the following two years, you could say that Ishmelga convinced me to throw away my humanity and become whatever monster he desired.”

He closed his eyes in shame, remembering how Ishmelga convinced him to cast away everything he loved and made him constantly stain his hands with blood.

“I was saved by a member of Ouroboros, and she helped me regain my humanity by helping me out for more than a year. Afterwards, I was taken by the Schwarzers, and the rest is a history you already know.”

Upon hearing seconds of silence pass, Rean looked around, first to see horror dawn on Crow’s face, then to see the same on all their faces. And now it was making him feel self conscious, because how could he assume they would all just accept his truth like that?

He looked back down to his fingers, watching them fidget against the table. 

“I understand if this makes you more suspicious of me…”

He saw a pinky nudge against his own pinkie. Looking up, he saw Crow wink at him in reassurance.

“Man, I was wayyyyyy off the mark,” Sara whistled sheepishly. 

“It is a shock, for sure,” Laura shook her head firmly. “But I'm glad you're telling us all this. It actually connects all the pieces we already knew about you, so I feel like I understand you better now.”

Elliot nodded in agreement. “Yeah, and you were like five when you… died, so it's not like you could control anything that happened to you since then.”

“Yeah…” Rean muttered, still believing he did have the choice to resist Ishmelga back then. He was just too foolish back then.

“But, that doesn't explain how you became an Ironblood,” Millium wondered.

“They knew I would have an affinity for piloting a Divine Knight, so they promised me that I would have the opportunity to fight and beat Ishmelga as long as I joined them. Not like they believed that I would be able to pull it off because Valimar is the weakest Divine Knight, and I… was very weak back then.”

Weak enough to almost kill himself again.

He was getting stronger though. Maybe he will have a chance later if he continues to improve himself.

“Huh,” Crow chuckled. “You’re another flavor of a revenge story, can't say I'm opposed to it. Is that why you said Osborne couldn't be killed, because this Ishmelga thing can just revive him?”

“Yeah.  And that brings me back to my goal.” He looked back up to have all of them, eyes glimmering in determination. “I want to end Ishmelga. Vita told me of a plan to unleash the Great One, but not at 100% of its power so that it could be defeated, so I wanted to take this chance.”

Even though it crushed him to know that many would have to die in this prolonged war.

“Are you really an Ironblood if you're conspiring against Chancellor Osborne?” Machias blurted out in exasperation. “Heck, is it even okay for you to be telling us all this? If they’re both still alive and they know you’re just casually revealing their plans to everyone, won’t they try to punish you?!”

Rean only chuckled to hide his anxiety. “To be fair, working with Vita is the highest degree of mutiny I can commit against them, and I already did that. It’s definitely a gamble with dire consequences for losing, so I might as well go all in, right?”

Alisa sighed. “Figures even you wouldn’t be immune to Crow’s gambling influences.”

“No worries, I’ll teach you everything about how to win an all or nothing gamble~” Crow smirked at him.

Rean looked down. “Yeah, I really hope this works.”

Or else the Civil War would have been for nothing, hundreds would have died for nothing, they would have all suffered for nothing. Plus, he really didn’t want to think about what Ishmelga would do to retaliate against him…

“Chin up, Rean,” Jusis said with a firm voice. “It’s not often we see you rebel against your past. You clearly never planned to work with Vita or to open up about your entire background with us before, but you chose to do so anyway. If this was what you really wanted, then you should be proud of your choices.”

Rean scratched his cheek, slowly raising his head to look directly at all of them again. “It’s still hard to say that I’m proud, but I can say that I’m happy that I chose to stick by your side.”

“And I’ll fight by yours, too,” Laura brandished her sword and held it up to the air. “If there’s a centuries-old curse messing with our homeland, I feel like it’s within my duty to vanquish it.”

Seeing what she was up to, Jusis smirked and brought his own sword to meet hers. “If it means stopping this ridiculous war and getting my father to stop humiliating himself any further, then I will fight too.”

Gaius smiled, bringing out his spear and joining it with their swords. “Of course, I would do everything to protect our homes, even if it’s from a curse, a demon, or something beyond.”

“Oh, we’re doing the thing? I love doing the thing!” Millium jumped up, calling forth Lammy and holding its arm with their weapons. “I dunno about the whole beating up Gramps thing—cuz, well, he’s Gramps—but I like fighting with you all! I’ll help out as much as I can!”

“Well, it is within my duty as a witch to see this through, so this works perfectly for me.” Emma united her staff with their weapons. “But, as a friend, of course I’d fight with everything I have!”

Fie shrugged, already joining her gunblade with them. “I really don’t understand much about the magical stuff, but tell me where to aim, and I’ll shoot.”

“Same!” Machias reloaded his shotgun and pointed it up with theirs. “Whether it’s a noble, a commoner, a monster, or a blasted curse, I don’t discriminate against evil.”

“I can’t say I joined this class, expecting to fight a calamity at the end, but…” Alisa held her bow by the bottom end and let it touch the others. “I can’t just do nothing while this curse or whatever messes with everyone’s life.”

“I’m not exactly confident in my abilities to beat something like that up.” Elliot awkwardly scratched his cheek but held up his orbal wand all the same. “But you all have my full support!”

Crow snorted. “You’re all so sappy.” Still, he took out his double saber and let it join with theirs. “But seriously, revenge? Gambling? Even the power of friendship? You guys got me hook, line, and sinker.”

They all looked to Instructor Sara, who’d been mostly quiet while watching them discuss. “Oh, what’s this now? Don’t you think I’m too old to be joining in your rallying cries?”

“It’s that mindset that keeps you single,” Crow snorts and fistbumps with Fie.

“Oh shut up, fine!” Sara gets up and adds her sword to the mix. “Just to be real with you all, fighting against something like that sounds like it’s gonna knock you down at least a hundred times. Thankfully, you have such an amazing instructor like myself to guide you along the way~”

“What guidance?” Jusis deadpans.

“You want me to beat all your asses again?!”

A genuine smile of relief spread across Rean’s face. He unsheathed his tachi and let it rest against everyone’s weapons. A silent promise to protect all of them for dragging them into this convoluted mess with Erebonia’s curse.

“Class VII.” There would be no long sappy speeches for him today, seeing how they already covered for him. “We got this!”

“Yeah!”

 

[Scene 3 - Wrapping up]

Crow tries to do his proper redemption with Jusis, but Jusis just shrugs him off.

“I could tell from just one look at the class that you didn’t need to prove yourself to me anymore.”

“Oh come on, I’ve already gotten this far, lemme finish off my Crow Armbrust introductions with a bang!”

“No.”

“Why not?”

Millium slips into their conversation. “I think it’s because Jusis feels guilty that could’ve ended up on your side, Crow, if you had stuck with the Noble Alliance.”

Jusis curses and chases after Millium, who starts running around the whole room. “Millium, how in the world do you come up with the most random conclusions?!”

“They’re not random, they’re the truth, haha! I’m gonna tell everyone!” Millium says before she escapes through the vents.

Crow shakes his head in sympathy. “Been there. Millium just has a knack for seeing through some people.” He sticks his hand out toward Jusis. “Anyway, name’s Crow Armbrust, Class VII’s slacking enthusiast~ I’ll definitely won’t be joining hands with Cayenne or his posse any time soon!”

“I hate both of you.” Jusis sighs as he grabs Crow’s hand. “Jusis Albarea. I’ll hate you less if you help me capture Millium and duct tape her mouth before she says such ridiculous things to the rest of the class.”

“Deal!”

 

[Scene 4 - Loose Ends]

• Alisa asks him later if her father is still alive because of Ishmelga. 
• Rean confirms. He explains that Black Alberich is a personality that can take control over descendants of gnomes, and Franz Reinford happens to be a descendant. Emma elaborates more about the gnomes later

“So it’s like a split personality?” Alisa asks, the sound of hope encroaching her voice. “It’s not that he never loved us, it’s that he’s being controlled by someone else?”

“I’ve never met your father, but I assume you’re correct,” Rean nods. “Black Alberich has no warmth and is unable to care for anything that isn’t necessary in his plans. I don’t think he’d be able to fool your mother with fake love.”

Alisa solemnly looks down. “I don’t know. These days, Mother seems just as cold. Based on the way she treats me and Grandfather, I wonder if she even knows what love is anymore.”

“I genuinely don’t think she wouldn’t send Sharon to look after you if she didn’t care about you, but I agree you have every right to be frustrated with her.”

She sighs. “Right? Is it so wrong to just want a hug from her? Or to hear ‘ good job’ from her mouth? I know she’s my mother, but I really hate her sometimes.” She closes her eyes. “I hate this Black Alberich person more for ruining my family.”

They remain silent for a moment as Rean lets Alisa take a few calming breaths.

“Hey,” she eventually says after her fifth deep breath. “Is Alberich the reason why you started acting all weird during our field study in the Nord Highlands?”

He nods, fighting off bitter memories of that trip. It truly is a miracle that they were able to save him from himself back then. “I think you already figured out that he’s working with the witch who put that berserk talisman on me, but it definitely didn’t help that he convinced me that I didn’t deserve to be with you guys.”

Alisa lets out a frustrated groan. “Ugh! That’s it! Next time I see him, I’m going to smack him so hard that it drags my father back to his senses! Then, I’m going to smack my father for losing control to such a jerk! While I’m at it, I’m going to smack Mother for forgetting how to be a mom!”

Rean chuckles. “You and your smacks. I can’t say they’re not effective.”

“Careful there,” she smirks at him and raises her hand. “I think you still deserve a smack for doubting your place with us.”

Rean closes his eyes as her hand closes in on him. But, instead of feeling a flash of stinging pain, there’s only a light pat on his cheek. He opens his eyes to see Alisa smiling warmly at him.

“After everything we’ve been through together, I think I can say that you’re a treasured friend. Don’t go forgetting that, okay?”

Mirroring her smile, Rean grabs her hand. “I won’t forget. You’re my treasured friend too.”

Alisa lets out a laugh. “I swear, you need to stop doing stuff like this. People get the wrong idea, you kno—”

The door opens.

“Rean and Alisa sitting in a tree, K-I-S-S-I-N-G—” 

Alisa rips herself away from him and screeches, “INSTRUCTOR, WILL YOU PLEASE AND KINDLY SHUT UP!”

Then, the next idiot barges in.

“Oi, Rean! I know I was joking about the concubine thing a few months ago, but I didn’t think you’d actually go for it!”

Rean and Alisa facepalm. 

Machias walks by, looking at them in pity. “Seriously, no one can have a damn moment with the rest of the class around.”

 

[Scene 5 - Checking In]

Rean retires to his room early, still fatigued from his fights on the Pantagruel and after talking to everyone about his past. He lies down on his bed and tries to sleep.

Minutes pass. 

Despite being tired, his mind can’t quiet down. He should feel relieved, knowing that his friends aren’t going to ditch him after learning about his past and his motivations. Sure, he kept the stuff about the Ashen Saint a secret, but he didn’t do anything too nefarious under that mask. Plus, they seem to have good impressions of his alter ego, so revealing the truth later wouldn’t be a big problem, probably.

The part about him being Osborne’s blood son also can’t end up with explosive reactions because they already know he’s an Ironblood. At this point, there’s not much difference.

He’s really not… worried about that.

He’s just…

Sigh.

The door opens.

He hears a familiar pattern of footsteps and realizes it’s Crow after the fourth lazy, yet confident step. 

“Asleep already?”

Rean shakes his head. “Can’t sleep.”

“Cool, I wanna show you something.”

Crow drags him out of bed, through the halls and to Courageous’ open deck. There, they’re greeted by a night sky full of glimmering stars and . The sight is breathtaking. It’s vaguely familiar. 

“The ship is currently flying above the Nord Highlands,” Crow explains. “It’s even more crazy beautiful when we’re up here, touching the sky, huh.”

“Yeah…” Rean exhales, moving his arm up to reach for the stars. He looks around the deck and realizes that no one’s around. “We should show the others—”

Crow grabs his shoulder and stops him in place. “Nah, they’re all on the other deck, so they’re not missing out. I actually asked them to give us some private time, even your sister approved~”

“Oh.” He lets himself lean against Crow’s shoulder. “That’s thoughtful of them.”

“Thoughtful of them? What about me? I came up with this idea,” Crow chuckles as he leads them to sit down on a… picnic blanket on the floor? Rean hadn’t noticed it before, but there’s a spot set up for them with a picnic basket and a warm orbal candle to add to the atmosphere.

There’s no way Crow could’ve set this up by himself, he had to have gotten some ideas from the others. It’s way too romantic for the ex-terrorist.

When they sit down on the picnic blanket, Rean says, “I guess you can take some credit.”

“Hey, I demand better treatment than this!”

Rean lets out a short laugh before turning his head to leave a peck on Crow’s cheek. “Better?”

Crow wiggles his eyebrows. “Gonna need a little more than that~”

Rean snorts, but doesn’t do anything else, letting his body stay dragged down by the weight of his exhaustion. He can’t say he exactly wants to be caught having a makeout session out here. Crow doesn’t seem to mind, letting them bask in silence as they watch the stars twinkle in awe.

It’s funny how the world can be so cruel… yet so beautiful.

“I’m glad I’m here,” Crow eventually says as he opens up the picnic basket and takes out two burgers. “I don’t think I’d be appreciating this view or eating fish burgers with you if I had shot the chancellor.”

“I would’ve dragged you back anyway, but I’m glad you’re here too.” Rean grabs the burger and takes a bite. “Who made this?”

There’s a smug grin on Crow’s face as he proudly points at himself with his thumb. “Yours truly~”

He takes another bite. “It’s really good.” He pauses. “Are you okay?”

“Shouldn’t I be the one asking you that? You've been looking gloomy every now and then.”

Rean hides his face with the burger. “That doesn't mean you're not struggling either. Being sent off alone to face our classmates with the backdrop of war couldn't have been easy on you.”

Crow shrugs, “Says the guy who was sent off fighting in a war surrounded by strangers and death.”

At this point, they were going to keep going in circles and circles until one of them spilled the beans first. Having no energy to play that kind of game with Crow, Rean folds. 

“Like I said before, war stuff,” he sighs, taking another bite. “I saw more death than I wanted. Even though I didn’t know most of them, it still… makes me feel heavy. And, do you remember Alphonse?”

“You mean the prick who used to bully you before he got expelled?”

Funny how such a terrible experience felt so distant now. “He died in my arms. I know he was awful to me in the past, but I don't think he deserved that. No one deserves to die in this pointless war, no matter how awful they are.”

Crow lets out a very eloquent “Oh.”

“Yeah.” He doesn't even know he finished the burger until he realized he was just holding an empty wrapper in his hands. “It’s going to bother me for a while, but I think that's… normal. I won't let it get in the way of me grasping for the future I want though.”

“Man, I'm glad you figured that out because I really had no idea what I was supposed to say to you to cheer you up,” Crow sighs in relief.

“Thank you for trying, but you don't need to rack your brain for the right words. You don't even need to say anything.” He scratches his cheek and makes a slight smile. “Honestly, just being here with me is enough.”

“Sap.”

“Whatever. Anyway, what's on your mind? I doubt you prepared this whole picnic just to hear me vent.”

“Yeahhhhh, well this is gonna be a bit awkward because nothing as serious was on my mind.”

“You know that I don't actually judge you, right?”

“Yeah.” Crow fiddles with the burger in his hands. Unlike Rean, he's nowhere near done. “I did a lot of awful shit I'm not proud about, but after making our decisions to stick together before the Civil War started, I did a lot of soul searching and self improvement. I think, for the first time since I was a kid, I'm actually proud of where I am.”

Rean's eyelids grow heavier, but his heart skips a beat.

“So, I just wanted to say: Thank you, Rean.”

For the first time in a while, Rean falls asleep with ease. Vaguely, he feels a blanket drape over him before he loses all consciousness.”

 

“I love you.”

Chapter 58 - Remain Unbreakable

[Part 1 - Roer] 

[Reunion with Angelica and Towa and George]

Angelica punches Crow in the shoulder. “Seriously, Crow, terrorism? No wonder you have no game!”

“I know, I know, but I can happily admit I'm a changed man. No longer am I a terrorist nor am I single~”

George crosses his arms. “What kind of idiot would go out with a self-proclaimed terrorist who has a history of gambling, reading porn in school, and wearing that dumb bandana.”

“Damn, no mercy for me.”

Rean, in the back, sheepishly raises his hand. “I think the bandana is actually kind of cool.”

The upperclassmen stare at them in confusion for a few moments before it clicks in their heads. In the next instant, they tackle Rean and Crow to the ground in a crushing hug.

“Congratulations!”

“Thank goodness, watching you two figure out your feelings was torture.”

“I believe I should get a thank you for setting you two up so many times~”

Crow smiles but it doesn’t reach his eyes. “Hey, don't you guys think you're letting me off too easily? I figured the truth would hurt you guys more, since we’ve known each other longer. Not to mention, Towa…”

“What are you talking about?” Towa looks at him, eyes burning with determination. “After learning that my life could've ended in an instant… After living this far into the Civil War, I've learned that life is much, much harder. We fight for our survival, struggle to reach our dreams, and sometimes get betrayed along the way... Don't mistake us, Crow. We won't make things easy for you. You're not allowed to die until you have our forgiveness!”

Angelica smirks. “Yeah, and I'll never forgive you for almost blowing up our dear Towa, so cheers to a long, painful life, Crow!”

“Where should we start?” George hums. “No orbal bike privileges, burn down all his porn magazines, confiscate that terrible cologne…”

“Ooh!” Angelica grins like a shark. “No fish burgers for a month!’

“Hey, c’mon. That's too cruel!”

Towa shakes her head and adds: “No gambling until you graduate!”

“Gah, I'm not going to survive…” Crow nudges Rean’s shoulder. “Help a guy out, will ya?”

Rean offers him a sweet smile and pats his back. “Good luck.”

“You’re the cruelest of them all, I swear.”

Rean shrugs. “I’ve recently discovered that I thrive off other people’s suffering as long as it helps them achieve their goals in the long run.”

"Wow, I think you'd make a great teacher."

[Class VII and the upperclassmen split up. Vulcan confronts them and sees Crow with Towa, Angelica, and George.]

Vulcan comments on how nice it is to see Crow with a better trio of friends who will pick him up and steer him toward a better path. Though part of him does feel like Crow has replaced him, G, and S with his new trio of friends.

Crow shakes his head. “I’m not saying we shouldn’t have become friends, but we were all bad for each other, agreeing to go on paths of self destruction in the name of united revenge.”

Vulcan scoffs. “What else is there to do when you’ve lost everything?”

“I wouldn’t have known it back then, but…” Crow looks at his friends. “I’ve learned that you can always build something new worth living for out of nothing.”

“Crow, I see you’ve really grown a lot. I always believed that there was something better waiting for you. As for me, however, I’m afraid it’s too late.”

They fight. Crow’s bandana doesn’t survive. Due to a malfunction of the soldat, Vulcan dies

They question why Crow isn’t so fazed about it. Crow turns away from them and says that they were all prepared to die.

“It’s strange though. I never told him how our plans were futile because I knew he’d follow through with the plan anyway. He was a man looking to die, and I didn’t regret that I never told him the truth. I’d rather he die, feeling like he had a purpose, instead of knowing that he wasted his life for nothing. I’m… kind of messed up, aren’t I?”

“Yeah. you’re going to feel messed up because you did messed up things,” Angelica states bluntly. “But I don’t think you’re messed up. Not everyone has access to the full truth, but people are still able to make good or bad decisions based on what little they know. If he knew the whole story, I don’t know if he would’ve chosen differently, but he had enough information to choose whether to fight and die, or to surrender and live. In the end, this was his choice alone.”

Towa nods. “Yeah, you’re not responsible for his actions.”

“I was his leader though.”

“You said you weren’t regretful, but you’re sounding pretty regretful right now,” George pointed out.

“I don’t know,” Crow sighs. “I think I might need time alone to think about this…”

“Go ahead.”

• Irina is being held hostage on a train. Despite Alisa’s mixed feelings about her, she goes to hijack the plane just to smack her. 
• Sara, Machias, Millium, Fie, and Jusis cheer a bit too much for this blatant display of domestic violence. 
• “Instructor Sara, aren’t you setting a bad example for us?” Elliot sweatdrops.
• “Eh.”
• Marquis Rogner withdraws from war thanks to Class VII’s and Angelica’s efforts.
• Crow becomes less sociable and isolative as he thinks about Vulcan’s death. 
• Everyone is concerned, but they give him space. 
• Rean knows the importance of having time to oneself at certain times, but he tries to help out by doing the small things. Like trying and failing to figure out how to make a fish burger for him for lunch. And buying a new bandana for him. 

 

[Part 2 - Celdic, Set ablaze]

• Celdic is attacked on orders of Helmut Albarea. More people than the mayor die. 
• Rufus disowns his father. Jusis is about to ditch but Class VII convinces him otherwise. He still can’t help but feel guilty for his father’s actions, but resolves to stop him together with the rest of the class.

 

[They get confronted by Gideon.]

This time, Crow decides to tell him the truth of Osborne’s not-death. He realizes that he did regret not telling Vulcan the truth earlier, so he doesn’t want to make the same mistake with Gideon. 

Gideon laughs hollowly. “I’m sorry, but you can’t expect me to believe that after you’ve betrayed us, C.”

Ouch. 

They fight. Gideon’s soldat is about to explode, just like Vulcan’s. Crow bites his lip, accepting his fate, but Rean rushes forward to try to save Gideon. However, not seeing how it happened with Vulcan, he’s too late. Gideon dies and Rean ends up getting a bit injured.

Crow gets mad and worried as he tends to his injury. “Idiot! You don’t need to pay up for Gideon’s karma.”

“I didn’t want you to be sad at the loss of another one of your friends,” Rean explains, looking away and feeling guilty at failing.

“Don’t let it get to you. You can’t save everyone. Especially those who’ve made up their mind. This is just the reality of war.”

“But… If I can’t even save the people in front of me, then what good am I?” Rean blurts out, then pauses. “Forget it, I shouldn’t be making this about myself after what just happened...”

Crow takes a deep breath. The loss of his old friends hits hard, but he also can’t ignore the idiots he calls friends around him. “Hey, don’t go deluding yourself. You saved me, didn’t you?”

Rean forces himself to smile. “Thanks, really. But focus on yourself. I understand if you need time to grieve.”

“Hey, none of this ‘focus on your own stuff’ like you’re trying to give me an excuse to ignore you.” He pats the space next to him and winks. “Come here, we can both grieve and lament together. It’s like the perfect match.”

Rean sighs but takes a seat next to Crow. Eventually, he says, “Hey, you can lean on me if you want.”

“I’m not saying I’m going to cry or anything, but I’d rather you not see your cool jacket with tears and snot.”

Rean closes his eyes. “Then lean on my back. I won’t turn around.”

Crow lets a couple tears fall as he leans against Rean’s back. They bask in serious, yet comfortable silence as they let their friends confront Jusis’ dad. 

• They arrest Helmut Albarea.
• Taking a page out of Alisa’s book, Jusis punches his father in the face.
• Again, Sara, Millium, Fie cheer. Alisa joins in. 
• Machias asks, “Can I punch him too? This would be the only time I could punch his face and not be arrested, right? I need to pay him back for how he treated me back during our Bareahard field study anyway.”
• Jusis deadpans at him, but surprisingly says, “Sure.”
• Alisa questions how the ILF had such weird technology. Crow says they made a deal way back with someone named Black Alberich. Alisa digs for more information, but Crow doesn’t know much because Gideon was the one most in contact with the guy.
• Later, they set out to make small graves for Vulcan and Gideon.
• The weight on his shoulders feel a little lighter
• Rean gives him the new bandana. 

 

[Part 3 - Retaking Trista in Style]

• To cheer them up:
• So, Crow remembers the edgy costume design Rean made when he was little. Crow had also designed something edgy back then. So, with Sharon’s help, he gets those costumes made in real life. 
• They both wear it and act cool (or embarrassed, in Rean’s case). Crow then hatches the idea that they should wear this stuff when they take back the school. 
• “Hey, if we’re going to take back the school, we may as well do it in style.”
• “This doesn’t even look cool, Crow.”
• “If it’s not cool, then we’ll make it cool! We’ll start a whole revolution! A fashion revolution!”
• Crow regrets the open chest part of Rean’s costume because he notices a couple of people ogling him. 
• Rean protests, “Says the guy wearing a skin-tight suit that defines his muscles well.”
• "Oh, so you have been looking!"
• Rean is oblivious as ever when he notices that people are hitting on him. 
• Crow points this out to him.
• “Why would they be interested in someone who looks like a complete idiot?”
• “I can’t even get mad,” Crow shakes his head. 
• "Rean, stop seducing the cat. You're making a certain someone jealous here."
• “They’re a couple of idiots,” remarks their friends. Crow shows them a whole arsenal of clothing that he’s going to force them all to wear. 
• “Don’t you know, Magical Girls and Demon aesthetics are popular these days!” 
• So the entirety of Class VII retakes Trista in the most absurd and outlandish garments possible.
• Patrick can’t even take them seriously and screams to the world when he loses to this bunch of idiots
• Elise openly laughs at him but offers her hand to him to help pick him up from the ground.. 

 

Chapter 59 - To Hope and Dream and Choose

For the night, they celebrate at Thors for being able to retake it. Rean walks around the school, going on a whole nostalgia trip. He’s still burdened by worries, but he can push through them thanks to his friends. He eventually ends up back at Class VII’s dorms. 

He plans to go to his room, but he senses that he’s not the only one in the dorm. He sighs when he opens Crow’s door and sees the guy lying in bed. 

“You know, I expect this from Fie, not you.”

“Man, sometimes I think someone needs to light a fire under my ass so I can stay out of bed, you know?”

Rean studies him for a second. “I mean, it isn’t hard to use your ARCUS and cast firebolt and light your pants on fire until it reaches your behind.”

“No mercy for me at all, huh?” 

“Given your track record at school, it would take nothing short of a wildfire to get you up and moving.”

Crow sighed in defeat. “Ahh… so this is the fire under the ass, fine. I respect it. Even though I hate it… Well, it’s settled then, I’ll be on my best behavior just so you won’t get any more material to roast me.”

“Mmm yeah, you said that two months ago and I don’t see much improvement to be honest.”

“I see improvement. I used to sleep through three alarms, but I haven’t done it once since I left the Pantagruel to reunite our class.”

“No, I’ve just been ignoring it. Since we’ve been sleeping in the same room, I just turn off the first two alarms when I wake up, but you definitely need an extra kick to get out of bed sometimes.”

“I’m going to be on fire for the entirety of our relationship, I just know it.”

Rean chuckled as he went to leave the room. “You made the choice to get close. Shouldn’t be surprised to get a little warm.”

“Ah well, it’s totally worth it~” Crow stepped behind Rean and wrapped his arms around the waist in front of him, keeping the other close. He nuzzled the side of the face that was surely blushing as he whispered, “Hm? Now who’s the one warm here?”

“Unfair,” Rean muttered as he melted into the embrace and shyly turned his head to face Crow’s. “You know I’m weak to this.”

“And you know I don’t play fair,” Crow smirked before he leaned forward, teasingly keeping a small gap between their lips. 

Rean happily sighed, "Oh shut up."

This constant pull towards the other… The fluttering of his heart… The warmth in his chest… The urge to keep seeing him smile…

He wondered if this was what love was.

And the gap closed.

 

*Chapter 60 - Loving You

• They go to the Karel Imperial Villa to rescue the Imperial family and Governor Regnitz. They learn that Duke Cayenne has taken Prince Cedric. Then they see a pillar of light erupt from Heimdalr. Emma explains that this is the Infernal Castle, where their Rivalry can take place.
• For once, Rean doesn’t feel anxious. He’s mostly just excited to get this over with finally and end the Civil War. Since their enemies consist of monsters (which they can get through easily), members of Ouroboros (who definitely won’t kill Rean or his friends, even though McBurn really wants to go all out), and members of Zephyr (who definitely won’t kill Fie or her friends), everything seems like it will go as plan.

The only one who has any malicious intent toward them is Cayenne, but he’s also their least biggest threat. Even when he explains that his goal is to make sure Ereboonia is controlled only by nobility, Vita kinda just ignores him so Rean and Crow can have their rivalry. 

Cayenne slams his foot against the ground. “I refuse! I’ve had enough of you common-borne filth telling me what to do just because you’re from some organization that happens to know more than most! I’ll do things my own way!”

He shoves Prince Cedric into the Vermillion Knight, unleashing the full might of the Vermillion Apocalypse. 

THUMP

Rean can feel the curse on the Vermillion Knight resonate with him at the same time his gut sinks, uncertain about how this is going to affect Vita’s plan, but he has no time to despair when the prince’s life is on the line. He and Crow jump into their respective Divine Knights and start to fight with all they have. 

At first, it’s rough. The Vermillion Apocalypse is not only draining everyone’s mana, but it’s also attacking everything in an area within range. They’re both ill-prepared for the first attack, causing them both to dodge. The attack ends up hitting the others, pushing them to the far back of the room. 

“Guys!”

“They’re okay, Vita can protect them!” Crow yells. “We gotta focus on taking the core out!”

“Right!”

They skirt around the Vermillion Knight’s attacks, but get no closer to landing an attack. Rean can feel chunks of Valimar’s armor being chipped and torn off by each attack he narrowly evades. It isn’t long before Crow has to block a hit and it sends him crashing into a wall, making despair nearly crush him.

Even after conquering his ogre power, even after training to pilot Valimar almost every day, even after having his friends’ full support, is he still not enough? Is this going to ruin Vita’s plan, effectively making the Civil War pointless in the grand scheme of things? 

\Worse yet, are they all going to die?

Rean hasn’t given up, but they’re running out of options..! What else can he do—

“Rean!” 

He can’t spare a moment to look behind him, but it seems like Crow has recovered. 

“Hey, I can hear you thinking too much from all the way back here! Relax! Remember, the power of love and friendship always prevails!”

 

…Love?

 

Blocking the next onslaught of attacks, Rean’s eyebrows furrow. Crow always says such nonsense even at the worst of times, but this is the first time he’s ever heard love come out of his mouth. It’s off putting because he avoids this word like the plague.

It’s also… silly. 

 

So, so silly.

Here they were, barely staving off the Vermillion Apocalypse and risking their lives to save Prince Cedric, and all Rean could think about was the blooming warmth in his chest from Crow’s words.

Really… With such simple words and a confident, mischievous smirk, Crow was able to pull him out of the fog of despair and set him back on his feet and feel like everything was going to be alright. 

This guy had a habit of reminding him to not give up, didn’t he?

Like at the schoolhouse… at Legram… on the Pantagruel… and even on senseless bad days. 

Whether it was coincidence or fate or because the guy truly cared, Crow seemed to always be there for him when he needed it the most. Always cheered him up with his playful mischief. Always showed reality to his delusions. 

Always nudged him out of his mask to help him discover himself. 

Ah. These feelings. They bubbled in his chest, and made him feel all giddy inside. This isn’t just a simple like.

Rean never considered himself an idiot despite how many times his friends told him he was. 

However… 

There was a saying that love turned people into idiots. To feel like this in the middle of a battlefield? In the middle of a battle where a simple mistake could cost them their lives?

The only explanation could be that Rean turned into an idiot.

All because...

 

I love Crow.

 

Huh.

Somehow it all made sense now.  How his dad, Lianne, the Schwarzers, and Class VII all cared and loved him despite all the trouble he gave them.

It was because they were idiots.

They were all idiots. 

 

And that was fine. That was completely fine. 

Rean could finally understand that. He could finally accept their love if that was the case. He couldn’t help but laugh at the realization, even as Crow got slightly knocked back.

“Hey, my wonderfully dearly beloved, I know you’re having fun with the fight, but how about getting your head back in the game?”

Ah… Rean was such an idiot. But that was fine because he felt his mind clear and his body surge with strength and energy in a way that was nothing like how he used Ishmelga’s power. 

Every movement became light while every slash against crimson armor became much more devastating. The fight to the death with the Vermillion Apocalypse faded into just another dance with Crow, hitting harder with every strike, moving faster with every swing, yet never losing their rhythm.

Pure giddiness and excitement flowed through Rean’s veins as they overwhelmed their foe.

Honestly, he was disappointed when he landed the finishing blow on the Vermillion Apocalypse, wanting to dance with Crow a little longer. 

After ripping Prince Cedric out of the Vermillion Knight, Crow raised his hand, waiting for a high five. They could also hear the cheers of their allies who were running up to regroup with them. 

“Hell yeah! Looks like we did it, Rean!” 

And yet, he was happy because they won and Rean was going on a high from all these bubbly feelings surging through him. He needed to let it out.

Returning the high five, Rean began to say, “Crow—”

 

THUMP

And stopped.

 

A bad feeling.

 

This wasn't the end. 

 

Something was coming.

 

CRUNCH

 

The Vermillion Apocalypse hadn’t disappeared yet. Its tail dug into the ground.

 

THUMP

THUMP

THUMP

 

Unlike Crow, Rean didn’t even think about the possibility that the Divine Knight was just using its tail to keep its faltering balance.

 

THUMP

 

He didn’t have time to think about such a reasonable possibility.

 

THUMP

 

Because he could see it. Because his heart was beating so hard that he thought it was about to burst out of his chest, telling him that they were in danger— 

THUMP

He was in danger— 

THUMP

This was the Vermillion Apocalypse’s last attempt to destroy something—  

THUMP

To kill C̸r̸o̷w̶—!

THUMP

C̴R̴U̴N̵C̴H̶

 

No—

Dread. Fear. Despair.

All. Crashing down. On him.

 

Don’t do this to me again—

 

Stop taking away the people I love like this—

 

I can’t go through this again— 

 

I̴ ̷c̴a̷n̷'̵t̵.̸.̷.̶

(His feet are stuck)

I̶ ̷c̴a̸-̵ ̶ ̶ ̷ ̷

(His lungs are frozen)

I̸.̵.̸.̴

(The strings of fate are keeping him still)

 

THUMP

P̸͙͚͂ĺ̷̼̹ě̸̘̙̂a̶̙̓͘ş̷̄e̸͚͂—̵͔͠

THUMP

THUMP

S̸̺͚̜̭͙̀̃̽͜ͅt̵̮̽̆̂́̅o̶̖͖̩̤̲̫̝͛̽͠͠p̸̢̧̖̪̯͔̏͜—̸̻̫͍̪͇̿̔̋ ̸̢̪̝̦̲̤̑̓̆̒

THUMP

THUMP

THUMP

THUMP

STOP

— C    R   A   S    H —

 

 ̵ ̶ ̸ ̸ ̷ ̴ ̵ ̴ ̷̨̡̦̗̣̪̫̻̟̗̗̈́̍͗̀̊̕ ̴̠͌̎ ̶̠̗̭̗̻́͌ ̴̮̑͠  ̸̢͚̩̤͔̬̙́͆ ̵̡̭̣̖̔̃̇́̀̉͐̀͋͋̆ ̸͇̬́̐ ̷̨̩͈̣̰̞̤̫̺̯̹̮̱͓̠̇̈́̋͋̕ͅͅ  ̴̢̧̞̩̖͉͓̫̯̲̟̟͚̗̻̺̩̘̥̤̭̍̂̃͐̇̉́́͂͂̊̽̂̕͜͠  ̶̢̧̮͔̯͎͖̫̤̞͊̈́̿͑  ̷̡̢̛̯̝̖̖͚̤̮̖̱̻̬̌̔͑͊̓̓̅̾̐̂̎̍́́̒͊͋͗̈́͘͘̚͝͝   ̷̡̢̗̳͈͓̯̹͍̻̰̱̤̠̦͙̬̝̱̪̲̖͉̘̹̩͉̞̙̩͙̫̲̬̐͗̇̏́̔́̆̄̾̑͆͘͘͜ ̴̨̢̖̜͇̻̜̥̺̱͇̻̠̘̜͙͍̞̘̘̫̳̩͔̳̪͗́̀̿͆͌̈́́͋̎̑͑̐̒̈́̅͂̀̈́̍̒̕̚͠͠   ̷̢̨͎̭̩̫̤̳̱̠͉͖̙̤̫̱̑̋̄̈́̄͆͐̈́͌̃̈̒͒͆̾̋͌́̊͠͠ͅ   ̸̛͎̥̈̾̈́̽̂̓̇̓̈́̂̒͋̋̋͒̾̈͋̚̕͝ͅ  ̶̗̥̝̯̖̪̹̼̖̮͑̅͗̌͗̊̅̎͂̂  ̵̧̛͓̫͓̤̰̠̻̰̮̯͕̬͖͚͕̤͕̹̱͂͋̀̀̒͛͌̅̒̅̋̓̔̀͂̂̽̈́̋̍͗̈́́͒́̃̚͜͝ ̷̨̩͈̣̰̞̤̫̺̯̹̮̱͓̠̇̈́̋͋̕ͅͅ ̶̨̢̛̣̖̱͇̤̟̤̤̝̝̤̤̣͙͐̾͂̎͆͑͛͝͝ ̸̧̧̜̞͇̳͙̦̩̫̦͙̑͐̏̈̇̃̐̾̄͋͝͝ ̴̢͎̦̘̬̯̹̣̐͆ ̴̢̧̞̩̖͉͓̫̯̲̟̟͚̗̻̺̩̘̥̤̭̍̂̃͐̇̉́́͂͂̊̽̂̕͜͠  ̴̭̖͓̬̱͙̯̟͇̬̮̤̹̳̙̯̻͌̃͆͌͗̊̅͂̓͌̒̃̒̏  ̵̧̧̤̗͚͉̬̝͉̺̗͔͉͚͇̩̬͙̩̦̰͍̽̈́  ̵̢̨̧̤̤̹͎̤̹̻̘̮̝̠̝͖̠̠͔͈̩̞͈̀͂̓̔͘ ̸̡̛͚̖͙̣̘̪̽ ̴̳̩̖̲͉͕͈͙̗͊͗̀͋̿̐ͅ ̶̶̳̦͚͑̌͑͂  ̴̴ ̴ ̷ ̵ 

 

̴̧̛͖̫͎̺͙̪̮̜̫̣̦̥̗͔͉̭̙͕̙͈̲̫̙̈́̎̍̿͂̆̄̔̈́̋̀́́̌̐͊̐͛̈̄̓͒̚͜ͅ ̷̧̧̨̡̱͖̰̣̬̤̤͔̘͔̟̬̳̦̬͙͎͕͖̘̖̭̤͑͆͑͒͋̌̃̂͒͑̑͛̆̉̏̍̓̓̾̚̚͘͝͠͠ͅ ̸̛̤́̓̀̄̇͑̾͗̋̓͛͒̄ ̴̧̞͔̭̠̩̮͉̫͕͈͈͎̻̰͍̳̲̞̳̘̾̄͛͊̒͑̈̍͛̑͋̔̏́̍̈̇̂̊̅̐̕͝ ̶̛̫̲͎̰͕̘̩͙͓͍̥͓̬̽̏͐͐̂̏̑̽́̂̽̂̉͑̑̾̂̄̽̂͋͠͝ ̷̧̧̛̻̫̗͖̟̬͔̘̣͚͇̇͐̈́̃͗̑͛̇̀̋̏͌͋̀̅͋̍̓̏͋̋̉̕͘͘͜͝͝ ̶̧̧̻͖͙͚͉̰̜͓̮̲͚͕̩͚̣̱̙̘͖͓͍̺̮̙͛̐̓̕ͅ ̸̢̘̰͇̙̮̣͖̺̥̜̲̜͚̦̙̯͕͍͉̹̯̟̤͈͖̔̕͜ͅ ̶̧̡̛̛̝̤̳̲̼̣̬̭̲͓͖͇͔͙̽͊͆́͐͌͒̊́̀̂͊͊̈́̒̆͆̈́͌͌̕͠ ̴̠̫̞̗̤͈̂̄͛̈̒̍̈́̀̄̂̿̋̿̄̐͑̉̔̐̏͘͝͝͝ ̸̡̜̫͎͙̥̟̳̰̱͕̝͓̼̠̬̞̮̩̻́̎̄̍͛̒͜͜͜͜ ̷̡̨̨̠͚̙̥̞̓͛̓̀̉͂̽́̾̐́̇̓̂̆̓̕̚ ̷̨̝̹͉̬̘̞̩̃̇ ̶̡̨̢̻̟̻͍̥͍̞̥͉̪̼͗̈́͋̀͐̔ͅ ̷̞̬͕͓̜͙̬̹̗̠͈̹̼̖͉̺̮͚͖̙́̆͌̎͆̋͋̎͊͆̈́̓́̓̀̇͂͊̀̕͝͝͝͠͠ ̸̧̛̛͕̲͔̜͉͇̂͑̅͛̊͑̄̽̈́͆͊̎̅̇̐̅̕͝ ̶̨̟̝͉̭̳̼̹͇̯͈̱͖̪͍̙̂̏̅̓̉̄̑̈́̒͂̃̊̔̓̃̔̎̕͘̕͠͠͠͠͝͝͝ ̷̨̳̙̺̲̭̳̠̩̱̞̖̯̦̭̾͋̌̂̿̒̓̎͗ͅ ̷̧̢̡̹̘̘̝̝̦͚͉͚͕̖̳̞̫̝͓̩̣͓̮͓̙̘̌͒́̊͆͒̆̀͌͌͜ͅ ̷͚̮͇̘̱̯͍͙̙̯̝̤̲̠̯̫͓̱͍̱͖̃̾ ̵̞̫̠̹͙̪̩̠̞̟̫̀͆͊̃͋͐͋̀̽̈́̌̕̕ ̵̡̢̠̖̘̰̮̣̤̙̍̅̄͒̃͛͑͒͘̚͜ ̸̩̠̑̑͊͑̍̄̒̇́̉͗͂͒͋̽̌̕̚͘̚͝͠ ̴̡̧̢̞̼̘͙̣̤̲̫̠̺̦͍̼̼͍̺͈̝̥͕̖̹͛̇̍̈́̀̂̑̓̋̑͌̑̓̅́̊̍͗̄͆͑̔͘͜͝ ̵̢̨͙̙̺̇̀͛̆̈́̓̒̓̃̿̉́͆͂͝͝͠ͅ ̵̨̟͙̟͕̥̠̩̆̐͂̑̎̐͋̌̏͜͠ ̶̧̢̨̛̫͇̮͉͈̠̳̦̜̱̬̳̻̳̯͗̄̌̎̇̄̓̊̓̈́̉̾̾́̀̃̈́́̑̈͘̕͘ ̸̨̨̱̤̯̟̮̗̰͚̯̮̫͎͖̙̬͉̰̳͚̒̀̅̎͛̄̌̌͛̿̅̂̿́̕ ̷̡̧̨͔͕̺͖̙͇͎̻̮̺̱̥̗̹̰͚̘̞̂́̆̍̐̄̓͂͌̎̉͂̂̈́̀͛̓͘̚̚͝ ̸̡̛̹̳̥͉͓͓̼̝͍̱̳͖̼̻̦̝͙̜̯̩̰̑̋̈́̈͑̒̂ͅ ̷̛̦̫͚̯͚̬̭̪̞̘̺͈̼̠̟̝̰̲͖̓͂̆͐̎̑̀̾̀̾̋̾͂̈́̔͘̚͘͝͝͠ ̶̡̼̰̝̳̯͓̲̼̖̹͚̓ ̸̻̣͚̞̫̜͇̗̹̋ ̵̨̛̛̣̱̼̻̜͍̪̺͔̹̫̠̼͕̣̟͙͇̈́̍͌̍̈̑̄͑̏͂̎̈́̌̽̒́͑͑̾̀́̏̉͘͜͠͠ ̷̲̼̬̰̼̝͖͌̿ ̷̧̢͈̩̙̜̰͙̯̝͔̲̲̩̰̤͎͎̦͒̇̐̈͂̋͗̿̿͑̚͝͝ ̵̢̢̧̗͚̩̱̭̺͕̬̥̣̤̥̦͇̫͇̝̥̜͖̜̤́͂ ̵͙̝͎̀̍̊̀̎̈́̅̔̐̎̾͂͆̌̐̇̉͗̋͋͘͘͝͝͝͝͝ͅ ̶̡̨͈̟͚͍̮̀͐͊̌͆̈́̈́͆̔̚͜͝ ̵͚̤̯̭͙̼͍̝͒̇̊̇̒͛̈̈́̓̈̑͒̈́̚̚ͅ ̴̧̖̩̬͓̙̮͇͈̺̹͖́̌̀͊͑̊̓̿͂̅͒̊͋́͆̓͜͝͝͝͝ ̸̧͚͓̹̰̭͔͔̝͓͔̜̩͓̥̒̏̿́̈́̂͌̿͂̈́̍͊̿̂̀̓̾̚̚̕͜͠͝ ̵̪̽́̈́͆͊̎̽̿̒̓͗͊͐́̈́̇̇̈͂̚͘̕͝ ̸̤͉̺̪̟̲͖͙̱̙̪͉̣͔̙̰̖̩̘̯̜̦͙̳̥̻̰̑̎̌̌͊̚ͅ ̸̨̨̡̞̩̠͔̰̱̦̦̝͎̦̖͉̩̜̱̰͎̗͓͌͑́́͜͜ ̷̧̪͎̦̞͇͍̗̠̯̦̪̯̠̥̿̈́̈͑̊̚̕͜ͅ ̵͍̗̮̹̪̦̬͇̣̻̭̻͒̒͛̾̈́̆̓̚ ̴̺̤̾́́̓̓̐̂̄͂̇͛̕ ̴̡̪͉̦͈̯̞̼͙̞̫̬̼̩̥̆͌̍̓̀͐̀͊̐̑͆͊́͌́̋̈̍̑͐̐͜͝͝͝͝ ̶̡̖̰̠͖̙̬͓͇̜͚̲̼̝̖̓͆̎͊̑̍͐̈́́͝ ̶̛̛̯̠̬͕̂́̎͛̊͒̎͑̃͑̋̈́͑̎͋͌͒͠͠ ̴̨̬̞̭͔̼̫͍͙̖͈̜̥̲̥͎̦͕̟͔̭̍͆͌̈̒̎̒̌̒͗͂̔͛̈́͆͂̈̈́̕͜͠ ̷̯̼̻͔̼̣͔̟̄̏͝ ̵̡̢̡̣̞͈̠̯̙͕͍̘̪͎͇̗̦̖̦̪͔̜̝͕͇͔̬̍ ̴̧̛͖̫͎̺͙̪̮̜̫̣̦̥̗͔͉̭̙͕̙͈̲̫̙̈́̎̍̿͂̆̄̔̈́̋̀́́̌̐͊̐͛̈̄̓͒̚͜ͅ ̷̧̧̨̡̱͖̰̣̬̤̤͔̘͔̟̬̳̦̬͙͎͕͖̘̖̭̤͑͆͑͒͋̌̃̂͒͑̑͛̆̉̏̍̓̓̾̚̚͘͝͠͠ͅ ̶̧̖̤̟͚͍̼͕̟̦̗͇̠̜͍̿̍̆͂̅͆͘͠ͅ ̵̡̡̧̧̧̢͇̺͈̠̰̪̬̥͌̂͂̿̕̕͜

 ̸̧̢̨͓̞̘̦͐̓̐̀̈̿̈́̒̋͂̔͒̽͗̂́͗̓̐̑̄̐́̚͠͝͝ ̶̛̛̯̠̬͕̂́̎͛̊͒̎͑̃͑̋̈́͑̎͋͌͒͠͠ ̴̧̛͖̫͎̺͙̪̮̜̫̣̦̥̗͔͉̭̙͕̙͈̲̫̙̈́̎̍̿͂̆̄̔̈́̋̀́́̌̐͊̐͛̈̄̓͒̚͜ͅ ̷̧̧̨̡̱͖̰̣̬̤̤͔̘͔̟̬̳̦̬͙͎͕͖̘̖̭̤͑͆͑͒͋̌̃̂͒͑̑͛̆̉̏̍̓̓̾̚̚͘͝͠͠ͅ ̸̛̤́̓̀̄̇͑̾͗̋̓͛͒̄ ̴̧̞͔̭̠̩̮͉̫͕͈͈͎̻̰͍̳̲̞̳̘̾̄͛͊̒͑̈̍͛̑͋̔̏́̍̈̇̂̊̅̐̕͝ ̶̛̫̲͎̰͕̘̩͙͓͍̥͓̬̽̏͐͐̂̏̑̽́̂̽̂̉͑̑̾̂̄̽̂͋͠͝ ̷̖͎̩̙͚̖̟̬̬̖̱̣͕̽̿̓́͗̇͒̀͌͋̀͊̽͒͂͗̕̕͠ ̶̡̡̨̛̛͇͓̘͙̰̫͖͔͇̺̠̤͓̪͔͈͉̲̮̥̲͖̹̰͚̝͔͉͓̱͓͕̼͙̤̖̯̻͈̘̭͎̝́͒̅̏̊͂̅̈́́͗̋̕͝ͅͅͅ ̶̢̢̡̡̡̡̛̹̖̳̜̟̖̘͕͙̲̭͉͕̝̠̫̹̼̖̜͇̘̱͍̪̦͕̖̣̭̫̫̘̝̟̱͕̘͂̉͑͑̑̔͌̐̋̔̄̏̓͋̉͂̑̈́̐͊̾͂̉͘͘̕͘͘ͅ ̷̧̧̛̻̫̗͖̟̬͔̘̣͚͇̇͐̈́̃͗̑͛̇̀̋̏͌͋̀̅͋̍̓̏͋̋̉̕͘͘͜͝͝ ̶̧̧̻͖͙͚͉̰̜͓̮̲͚͕̩͚̣̱̙̘͖͓͍̺̮̙͛̐̓̕ͅ ̸̢̘̰͇̙̮̣͖̺̥̜̲̜͚̦̙̯͕͍͉̹̯̟̤͈͖̔̕͜ͅ ̶̧̡̛̛̝̤̳̲̼̣̬̭̲͓͖͇͔͙̽͊͆́͐͌͒̊́̀̂͊͊̈́̒̆͆̈́͌͌̕͠ ̴̠̫̞̗̤͈̂̄͛̈̒̍̈́̀̄̂̿̋̿̄̐͑̉̔̐̏͘͝͝͝  ̴̢̨̢̨̩͓͓̬̪̙͕͎̱̫̣̗͉̖̜̠͈͈̼̥̳̩̻͍̯̲̱̱̯͇̫͍̖͇͖̝͈̙̬̍̇͑̃̋̈́̐͊͌͑̚̚͘͠͝ͅ ̴̨̨̧̢̨̧̟̱̫͉̻̥̼̫̣͈͚̬̜̣̣̯̫̣̬̗͇̟̼̫͕̟̮͔̠̆̀͆̂̇̎͂̈̉̀̊͗͛́́̽͗͐͐̈̈́͐͂͂̇̈̆̊̃͂͊̋̒̎̎̈́̚̕͜͜͠ ̵̧̢̧̡̢̻̩̬̳͍̲̦̖͓͉̲̙͈͚̯͍̞̖̖̞̯̠̞̬̳̘̪͕̪̞̱̇̒̅̉́̊̃̉̀͜ͅ ̶̷̡̡̧͖͎̼̭̖͓̲̭̩͚̲̬̰̭̥̞̭̻̜̠̼̩̮̥̜̗̱͎̗̗̪̗̟̰̥͔̣̞̬͕͓̜͙̬̹̗̠͈̹̼̖͉̺̮͚͖̙̓̿̄̈́͊͋̈͛͒̊͂̀͛͛́̋͋̀́̃̏̽̀̓̆͐̍́̆͌̎͆̋͋̎͊͆̈́̓́̓̀̇͂͊̀̚̕̕͝͝͝͠͠ ̸̧̛̛͕̲͔̜͉͇̂͑̅͛̊͑̄̽̈́͆͊̎̅̇̐̅̕͝ ̶̨̟̝͉̭̳̼̹͇̯͈̱͖̪͍̙̂̏̅̓̉̄̑̈́̒͂̃̊̔̓̃̔̎̕͘̕͠͠͠͠͝͝͝ ̷̨̳̙̺̲̭̳̠̩̱̞̖̯̦̭̾͋̌̂̿̒̓̎͗ͅ ̷̧̢̡̹̘̘̝̝̦͚͉͚͕̖̳̞̫̝͓̩̣͓̮͓̙̘̌͒́̊͆͒̆̀͌͌͜ͅ ̷͚̮͇̘̱̯͍͙̙̯̝̤̲̠̯̫͓̱͍̱͖̃̾ ̵̞̫̠̹͙̪̩̠̞̟̫̀͆͊̃͋͐͋̀̽̈́̌̕̕ ̵̡̢̠̖̘̰̮̣̤̙̍̅̄͒̃͛͑͒͘̚͜ ̸̩̠̑̑͊͑̍̄̒̇́̉͗͂͒͋̽̌̕̚͘̚͝͠ ̴̡̧̢̞̼̘͙̣̤̲̫̠̺̦͍̼̼͍̺͈̝̥͕̖̹͛̇̍̈́̀̂̑̓̋̑͌̑̓̅́̊̍͗̄͆͑̔͘͜͝ ̵̢̨͙̙̺̇̀͛̆̈́̓̒̓̃̿̉́͆͂͝͝͠ͅ ̵̨̟͙̟͕̥̠̩̆̐͂̑̎̐͋̌̏͜͠ ̶̧̢̨̛̫͇̮͉͈̠̳̦̜̱̬̳̻̳̯͗̄̌̎̇̄̓̊̓̈́̉̾̾́̀̃̈́́̑̈͘̕͘ ̸̨̨̱̤̯̟̮̗̰͚̯̮̫͎͖̙̬͉̰̳͚̒̀̅̎͛̄̌̌͛̿̅̂̿́̕ ̷̡̧̨͔͕̺͖̙͇͎̻̮̺̱̥̗̹̰͚̘̞̂́̆̍̐̄̓͂͌̎̉͂̂̈́̀͛̓͘̚̚͝ ̸̡̛̹̳̥͉͓͓̼̝͍̱̳͖̼̻̦̝͙̜̯̩̰̑̋̈́̈͑̒̂ͅ ̷̛̦̫͚̯͚̬̭̪̞̘̺͈̼̠̟̝̰̲͖̓͂̆͐̎̑̀̾̀̾̋̾͂̈́̔͘̚͘͝͝͠ ̶̡̼̰̝̳̯͓̲̼̖̹͚̓  ̶̡̡̨̛̛͇͓̘͙̰̫͖͔͇̺̠̤͓̪͔͈͉̲̮̥̲͖̹̰͚̝͔͉͓̱͓͕̼͙̤̖̯̻͈̘̭͎̝́͒̅̏̊͂̅̈́́͗̋̕͝ͅͅͅ ̶̢̢̡̡̡̡̛̹̖̳̜̟̖̘͕͙̲̭͉͕̝̠̫̹̼̖̜͇̘̱͍̪̦͕̖̣̭̫̫̘̝̟̱͕̘͂̉͑͑̑̔͌̐̋̔̄̏̓͋̉͂̑̈́̐͊̾͂̉͘͘̕͘͘ͅ ̷̲̼̬̰̼̝͖͌̿ ̷̧̢͈̩̙̜̰͙̯̝͔̲̲̩̰̤͎͎̦͒̇̐̈͂̋͗̿̿͑̚͝͝ ̵̢̢̧̗͚̩̱̭̺͕̬̥̣̤̥̦͇̫͇̝̥̜͖̜̤́͂ ̵͙̝͎̀̍̊̀̎̈́̅̔̐̎̾͂͆̌̐̇̉͗̋͋͘͘͝͝͝͝͝ͅ ̴̧̖̩̬͓̙̮͇͈̺̹͖́̌̀͊͑̊̓̿͂̅͒̊͋́͆̓͜͝͝͝͝ ̸̧͚͓̹̰̭͔͔̝͓͔̜̩͓̥̒̏̿́̈́̂͌̿͂̈́̍͊̿̂̀̓̾̚̚̕͜͠͝  ̶̢̢̺̻̳̭̘̩̙̼͍͈̣̰̠̠̹̑̈̔̈́͊̈́̉̏̏͆̓̃̕͝ͅ ̴̨̧̡̛͎̮̘̹̬͚̫̱̥̲͔͎͇͈̠̲͇̳̮̙̦̠͙͈̭̠͕͔͈͖͇̔̐̑͒́̔̒̈́̊̍͐̅͗͐͊̽̾́̑̉͌̾̀̀͌̾̚͘͜͜͝ͅͅͅͅ ̸̡̝̣̤̟͚̦͚̠̺̯̙̀̔́̓͗̔̓̀̕̚ ̸̨̨̡̞̩̠͔̰̱̦̦̝͎̦̖͉̩̜̱̰͎̗͓͌͑́́͜͜ ̷̧̪͎̦̞͇͍̗̠̯̦̪̯̠̥̿̈́̈͑̊̚̕͜ͅ ̵͍̗̮̹̪̦̬͇̣̻̭̻͒̒͛̾̈́̆̓̚ ̴̺̤̾́́̓̓̐̂̄͂̇͛̕ ̴̡̪͉̦͈̯̞̼͙̞̫̬̼̩̥̆͌̍̓̀͐̀͊̐̑͆͊́͌́̋̈̍̑͐̐͜͝͝͝͝ ̷̛̜̉̇̑́̍̔̄̒̃̅̚̕̕͝͝ ̶̡̖̰̠͖̙̬͓͇̜͚̲̼̝̖̓͆̎͊̑̍͐̈́́͝ ̶̢̠̮̮̺̹͙̤̮͈͕͚̱̠͖͈̻́̓̉̓͐̉́͒́̓͌̌̌͒̑́̈́̕ ̵̨̘̲̩͙̫̗̖̟͎͍͉̤͕͙̞̮̼͍̜̪̯͎̉ ̷̢̢̢̡͉̮̪̠͍̗̞͙̰̞͍̼̠͖̭̳͈̜̥̍́̓̽͒̽͘͜͜͝ ̴̡̢̛̭̼͓͉̯̲̱̻̂̀̍ ̵̢̛̛̼͔͖̮̝̼̜̠̗̱̼͍̣̭͖̬̗̘͙̜̥̹̺̐͂̍̔̌́͒̐̌̈́͆̾̎̚͝͝͝ͅ ̷̡̯̦͚̝͇͍̳̝̗̟͚̠̯̹͚͙̺̦̭̼͕̉̆́̂̋͒̋͊͊̾͂̌̍̽͊ ̶̢̧̡̟͕̪̱̰͙̼̠̪̠̥͎̫̞͎͕̩͖̥͙̰̲̙̭̇̈́̓̒͒̄̉̊̒̿̾͑͒̂͘̕͜͝ ̷̶̢̧̨̢̲̠̘̙̩̫̣͓̼̺͚̲͔̜͎̜͙̜̗͕̻̖͂͋̑͛̓̏̄̇͒̑̎̊̃̾̋͗̂̈́͊̅̀̈́̾̊͆̍͗̿̽̕̕͠͠ ̶̧̖̤̟͚͍̼͕̟̦̗͇̠̜͍̿̍̆͂̅͆͘͠ͅ ̵̡̡̧̧̧̢͇̺͈̠̰̪̬̥͌̂͂̿̕̕͜

̸̧̢̨͓̞̘̦͐̓̐̀̈̿̈́̒̋͂̔͒̽͗̂́͗̓̐̑̄̐́̚͠͝͝ ̶̛̛̯̠̬͕̂́̎͛̊͒̎͑̃͑̋̈́͑̎͋͌͒͠͠ ̴̨̬̞̭͔̼̫͍͙̖͈̜̥̲̥͎̦͕̟͔̭̍͆͌̈̒̎̒̌̒͗͂̔͛̈́͆͂̈̈́̕͜͠ ̷̯̼̻͔̼̣͔̟̄̏͝ ̵̡̢̡̣̞͈̠̯̙͕͍̘̪͎͇̗̦̖̦̪͔̜̝͕͇͔̬̍ ̴̧̛͖̫͎̺͙̪̮̜̫̣̦̥̗͔͉̭̙͕̙͈̲̫̙̈́̎̍̿͂̆̄̔̈́̋̀́́̌̐͊̐͛̈̄̓͒̚͜ͅ ̷̧̧̨̡̱͖̰̣̬̤̤͔̘͔̟̬̳̦̬͙͎͕͖̘̖̭̤͑͆͑͒͋̌̃̂͒͑̑͛̆̉̏̍̓̓̾̚̚͘͝͠͠ͅ ̸̛̤́̓̀̄̇͑̾͗̋̓͛͒̄ ̴̧̞͔̭̠̩̮͉̫͕͈͈͎̻̰͍̳̲̞̳̘̾̄͛͊̒͑̈̍͛̑͋̔̏́̍̈̇̂̊̅̐̕͝ ̶̛̫̲͎̰͕̘̩͙͓͍̥͓̬̽̏͐͐̂̏̑̽́̂̽̂̉͑̑̾̂̄̽̂͋͠͝ ̷̖͎̩̙͚̖̟̬̬̖̱̣͕̽̿̓́͗̇͒̀͌͋̀͊̽͒͂͗̕̕͠ ̶̡̡̨̛̛͇͓̘͙̰̫͖͔͇̺̠̤͓̪͔͈͉̲̮̥̲͖̹̰͚̝͔͉͓̱͓͕̼͙̤̖̯̻͈̘̭͎̝́͒̅̏̊͂̅̈́́͗̋̕͝ͅͅͅ ̶̢̢̡̡̡̡̛̹̖̳̜̟̖̘͕͙̲̭͉͕̝̠̫̹̼̖̜͇̘̱͍̪̦͕̖̣̭̫̫̘̝̟̱͕̘͂̉͑͑̑̔͌̐̋̔̄̏̓͋̉͂̑̈́̐͊̾͂̉͘͘̕͘͘ͅ ̷̧̧̛̻̫̗͖̟̬͔̘̣͚͇̇͐̈́̃͗̑͛̇̀̋̏͌͋̀̅͋̍̓̏͋̋̉̕͘͘͜͝͝ ̶̧̧̻͖͙͚͉̰̜͓̮̲͚͕̩͚̣̱̙̘͖͓͍̺̮̙͛̐̓̕ͅ ̸̢̘̰͇̙̮̣͖̺̥̜̲̜͚̦̙̯͕͍͉̹̯̟̤͈͖̔̕͜ͅ ̶̧̡̛̛̝̤̳̲̼̣̬̭̲͓͖͇͔͙̽͊͆́͐͌͒̊́̀̂͊͊̈́̒̆͆̈́͌͌̕͠ ̴̠̫̞̗̤͈̂̄͛̈̒̍̈́̀̄̂̿̋̿̄̐͑̉̔̐̏͘͝͝͝  ̴̢̨̢̨̩͓͓̬̪̙͕͎̱̫̣̗͉̖̜̠͈͈̼̥̳̩̻͍̯̲̱̱̯͇̫͍̖͇͖̝͈̙̬̍̇͑̃̋̈́̐͊͌͑̚̚͘͠͝ͅ ̴̨̨̧̢̨̧̟̱̫͉̻̥̼̫̣͈͚̬̜̣̣̯̫̣̬̗͇̟̼̫͕̟̮͔̠̆̀͆̂̇̎͂̈̉̀̊͗͛́́̽͗͐͐̈̈́͐͂͂̇̈̆̊̃͂͊̋̒̎̎̈́̚̕͜͜͠ ̵̧̢̧̡̢̻̩̬̳͍̲̦̖͓͉̲̙͈͚̯͍̞̖̖̞̯̠̞̬̳̘̪͕̪̞̱̇̒̅̉́̊̃̉̀͜ͅ ̶̷̡̡̧͖͎̼̭̖͓̲̭̩͚̲̬̰̭̥̞̭̻̜̠̼̩̮̥̜̗̱͎̗̗̪̗̟̰̥͔̣̞̬͕͓̜͙̬̹̗̠͈̹̼̖͉̺̮͚͖̙̓̿̄̈́͊͋̈͛͒̊͂̀͛͛́̋͋̀́̃̏̽̀̓̆͐̍́̆͌̎͆̋͋̎͊͆̈́̓́̓̀̇͂͊̀̚̕̕͝͝͝͠͠ ̸̧̛̛͕̲͔̜͉͇̂͑̅͛̊͑̄̽̈́͆͊̎̅̇̐̅̕͝ ̶̨̟̝͉̭̳̼̹͇̯͈̱͖̪͍̙̂̏̅̓̉̄̑̈́̒͂̃̊̔̓̃̔̎̕͘̕͠͠͠͠͝͝͝ ̷̨̳̙̺̲̭̳̠̩̱̞̖̯̦̭̾͋̌̂̿̒̓̎͗ͅ ̷̧̢̡̹̘̘̝̝̦͚͉͚͕̖̳̞̫̝͓̩̣͓̮͓̙̘̌͒́̊͆͒̆̀͌͌͜ͅ ̷͚̮͇̘̱̯͍͙̙̯̝̤̲̠̯̫͓̱͍̱͖̃̾ ̵̞̫̠̹͙̪̩̠̞̟̫̀͆͊̃͋͐͋̀̽̈́̌̕̕ ̵̡̢̠̖̘̰̮̣̤̙̍̅̄͒̃͛͑͒͘̚͜ ̸̩̠̑̑͊͑̍̄̒̇́̉͗͂͒͋̽̌̕̚͘̚͝͠ ̴̡̧̢̞̼̘͙̣̤̲̫̠̺̦͍̼̼͍̺͈̝̥͕̖̹͛̇̍̈́̀̂̑̓̋̑͌̑̓̅́̊̍͗̄͆͑̔͘͜͝ ̵̢̨͙̙̺̇̀͛̆̈́̓̒̓̃̿̉́͆͂͝͝͠ͅ ̵̨̟͙̟͕̥̠̩̆̐͂̑̎̐͋̌̏͜͠ ̶̧̢̨̛̫͇̮͉͈̠̳̦̜̱̬̳̻̳̯͗̄̌̎̇̄̓̊̓̈́̉̾̾́̀̃̈́́̑̈͘̕͘ ̸̨̨̱̤̯̟̮̗̰͚̯̮̫͎͖̙̬͉̰̳͚̒̀̅̎͛̄̌̌͛̿̅̂̿́̕ ̷̡̧̨͔͕̺͖̙͇͎̻̮̺̱̥̗̹̰͚̘̞̂́̆̍̐̄̓͂͌̎̉͂̂̈́̀͛̓͘̚̚͝ ̸̡̛̹̳̥͉͓͓̼̝͍̱̳͖̼̻̦̝͙̜̯̩̰̑̋̈́̈͑̒̂ͅ ̷̛̦̫͚̯͚̬̭̪̞̘̺͈̼̠̟̝̰̲͖̓͂̆͐̎̑̀̾̀̾̋̾͂̈́̔͘̚͘͝͝͠ ̶̡̼̰̝̳̯͓̲̼̖̹͚̓  ̶̡̡̨̛̛͇͓̘͙̰̫͖͔͇̺̠̤͓̪͔͈͉̲̮̥̲͖̹̰͚̝͔͉͓̱͓͕̼͙̤̖̯̻͈̘̭͎̝́͒̅̏̊͂̅̈́́͗̋̕͝ͅͅͅ ̶̢̢̡̡̡̡̛̹̖̳̜̟̖̘͕͙̲̭͉͕̝̠̫̹̼̖̜͇̘̱͍̪̦͕̖̣̭̫̫̘̝̟̱͕̘͂̉͑͑̑̔͌̐̋̔̄̏̓͋̉͂̑̈́̐͊̾͂̉͘͘̕͘͘ͅ ̷̲̼̬̰̼̝͖͌̿ ̷̧̢͈̩̙̜̰͙̯̝͔̲̲̩̰̤͎͎̦͒̇̐̈͂̋͗̿̿͑̚͝͝ ̵̢̢̧̗͚̩̱̭̺͕̬̥̣̤̥̦͇̫͇̝̥̜͖̜̤́͂ ̵͙̝͎̀̍̊̀̎̈́̅̔̐̎̾͂͆̌̐̇̉͗̋͋͘͘͝͝͝͝͝ͅ ̴̧̖̩̬͓̙̮͇͈̺̹͖́̌̀͊͑̊̓̿͂̅͒̊͋́͆̓͜͝͝͝͝ ̸̧͚͓̹̰̭͔͔̝͓͔̜̩͓̥̒̏̿́̈́̂͌̿͂̈́̍͊̿̂̀̓̾̚̚̕͜͠͝  ̶̢̢̺̻̳̭̘̩̙̼͍͈̣̰̠̠̹̑̈̔̈́͊̈́̉̏̏͆̓̃̕͝ͅ ̴̨̧̡̛͎̮̘̹̬͚̫̱̥̲͔͎͇͈̠̲͇̳̮̙̦̠͙͈̭̠͕͔͈͖͇̔̐̑͒́̔̒̈́̊̍͐̅͗͐͊̽̾́̑̉͌̾̀̀͌̾̚͘͜͜͝ͅͅͅͅ ̸̡̝̣̤̟͚̦͚̠̺̯̙̀̔́̓͗̔̓̀̕̚ ̸̨̨̡̞̩̠͔̰̱̦̦̝͎̦̖͉̩̜̱̰͎̗͓͌͑́́͜͜ ̷̧̪͎̦̞͇͍̗̠̯̦̪̯̠̥̿̈́̈͑̊̚̕͜ͅ ̵͍̗̮̹̪̦̬͇̣̻̭̻͒̒͛̾̈́̆̓̚ ̴̺̤̾́́̓̓̐̂̄͂̇͛̕ ̴̡̪͉̦͈̯̞̼͙̞̫̬̼̩̥̆͌̍̓̀͐̀͊̐̑͆͊́͌́̋̈̍̑͐̐͜͝͝͝͝ ̷̛̜̉̇̑́̍̔̄̒̃̅̚̕̕͝͝ ̶̡̖̰̠͖̙̬͓͇̜͚̲̼̝̖̓͆̎͊̑̍͐̈́́͝ ̶̢̠̮̮̺̹͙̤̮͈͕͚̱̠͖͈̻́̓̉̓͐̉́͒́̓͌̌̌͒̑́̈́̕ ̵̨̘̲̩͙̫̗̖̟͎͍͉̤͕͙̞̮̼͍̜̪̯͎̉ ̷̢̢̢̡͉̮̪̠͍̗̞͙̰̞͍̼̠͖̭̳͈̜̥̍́̓̽͒̽͘͜͜͝ ̴̡̢̛̭̼͓͉̯̲̱̻̂̀̍ ̵̢̛̛̼͔͖̮̝̼̜̠̗̱̼͍̣̭͖̬̗̘͙̜̥̹̺̐͂̍̔̌́͒̐̌̈́͆̾̎̚͝͝͝ͅ ̷̡̯̦͚̝͇͍̳̝̗̟͚̠̯̹͚͙̺̦̭̼͕̉̆́̂̋͒̋͊͊̾͂̌̍̽͊

 ̸̧̢̨͓̞̘̦͐̓̐̀̈̿̈́̒̋͂̔͒̽͗̂́͗̓̐̑̄̐́̚͠͝͝ ̶̛̛̯̠̬͕̂́̎͛̊͒̎͑̃͑̋̈́͑̎͋͌͒͠͠ ̴̨̬̞̭͔̼̫͍͙̖͈̜̥̲̥͎̦͕̟͔̭̍͆͌̈̒̎̒̌̒͗͂̔͛̈́͆͂̈̈́̕͜͠ ̷̯̼̻͔̼̣͔̟̄̏͝ ̵̡̢̡̣̞͈̠̯̙͕͍̘̪͎͇̗̦̖̦̪͔̜̝͕͇͔̬̍ ̴̧̛͖̫͎̺͙̪̮̜̫̣̦̥̗͔͉̭̙͕̙͈̲̫̙̈́̎̍̿͂̆̄̔̈́̋̀́́̌̐͊̐͛̈̄̓͒̚͜ͅ ̷̧̧̨̡̱͖̰̣̬̤̤͔̘͔̟̬̳̦̬͙͎͕͖̘̖̭̤͑͆͑͒͋̌̃̂͒͑̑͛̆̉̏̍̓̓̾̚̚͘͝͠͠ͅ ̸̛̤́̓̀̄̇͑̾͗̋̓͛͒̄ ̴̧̞͔̭̠̩̮͉̫͕͈͈͎̻̰͍̳̲̞̳̘̾̄͛͊̒͑̈̍͛̑͋̔̏́̍̈̇̂̊̅̐̕͝ ̶̛̫̲͎̰͕̘̩͙͓͍̥͓̬̽̏͐͐̂̏̑̽́̂̽̂̉͑̑̾̂̄̽̂͋͠͝ ̷̖͎̩̙͚̖̟̬̬̖̱̣͕̽̿̓́͗̇͒̀͌͋̀͊̽͒͂͗̕̕͠ ̶̡̡̨̛̛͇͓̘͙̰̫͖͔͇̺̠̤͓̪͔͈͉̲̮̥̲͖̹̰͚̝͔͉͓̱͓͕̼͙̤̖̯̻͈̘̭͎̝́͒̅̏̊͂̅̈́́͗̋̕͝ͅͅͅ ̶̢̢̡̡̡̡̛̹̖̳̜̟̖̘͕͙̲̭͉͕̝̠̫̹̼̖̜͇̘̱͍̪̦͕̖̣̭̫̫̘̝̟̱͕̘͂̉͑͑̑̔͌̐̋̔̄̏̓͋̉͂̑̈́̐͊̾͂̉͘͘̕͘͘ͅ ̷̧̧̛̻̫̗͖̟̬͔̘̣͚͇̇͐̈́̃͗̑͛̇̀̋̏͌͋̀̅͋̍̓̏͋̋̉̕͘͘͜͝͝ ̶̧̧̻͖͙͚͉̰̜͓̮̲͚͕̩͚̣̱̙̘͖͓͍̺̮̙͛̐̓̕ͅ ̸̢̘̰͇̙̮̣͖̺̥̜̲̜͚̦̙̯͕͍͉̹̯̟̤͈͖̔̕͜ͅ ̶̧̡̛̛̝̤̳̲̼̣̬̭̲͓͖͇͔͙̽͊͆́͐͌͒̊́̀̂͊͊̈́̒̆͆̈́͌͌̕͠ ̴̠̫̞̗̤͈̂̄͛̈̒̍̈́̀̄̂̿̋̿̄̐͑̉̔̐̏͘͝͝͝  ̴̢̨̢̨̩͓͓̬̪̙͕͎̱̫̣̗͉̖̜̠͈͈̼̥̳̩̻͍̯̲̱̱̯͇̫͍̖͇͖̝͈̙̬̍̇͑̃̋̈́̐͊͌͑̚̚͘͠͝ͅ ̴̨̨̧̢̨̧̟̱̫͉̻̥̼̫̣͈͚̬̜̣̣̯̫̣̬̗͇̟̼̫͕̟̮͔̠̆̀͆̂̇̎͂̈̉̀̊͗͛́́̽͗͐͐̈̈́͐͂͂̇̈̆̊̃͂͊̋̒̎̎̈́̚̕͜͜͠ ̵̧̢̧̡̢̻̩̬̳͍̲̦̖͓͉̲̙͈͚̯͍̞̖̖̞̯̠̞̬̳̘̪͕̪̞̱̇̒̅̉́̊̃̉̀͜ͅ ̶̷̡̡̧͖͎̼̭̖͓̲̭̩͚̲̬̰̭̥̞̭̻̜̠̼̩̮̥̜̗̱͎̗̗̪̗̟̰̥͔̣̞̬͕͓̜͙̬̹̗̠͈̹̼̖͉̺̮͚͖̙̓̿̄̈́͊͋̈͛͒̊͂̀͛͛́̋͋̀́̃̏̽̀̓̆͐̍́̆͌̎͆̋͋̎͊͆̈́̓́̓̀̇͂͊̀̚̕̕͝͝͝͠͠ ̸̧̛̛͕̲͔̜͉͇̂͑̅͛̊͑̄̽̈́͆͊̎̅̇̐̅̕͝ ̶̨̟̝͉̭̳̼̹͇̯͈̱͖̪͍̙̂̏̅̓̉̄̑̈́̒͂̃̊̔̓̃̔̎̕͘̕͠͠͠͠͝͝͝ ̷̨̳̙̺̲̭̳̠̩̱̞̖̯̦̭̾͋̌̂̿̒̓̎͗ͅ ̷̧̢̡̹̘̘̝̝̦͚͉͚͕̖̳̞̫̝͓̩̣͓̮͓̙̘̌͒́̊͆͒̆̀͌͌͜ͅ ̷͚̮͇̘̱̯͍͙̙̯̝̤̲̠̯̫͓̱͍̱͖̃̾ ̵̞̫̠̹͙̪̩̠̞̟̫̀͆͊̃͋͐͋̀̽̈́̌̕̕ ̵̡̢̠̖̘̰̮̣̤̙̍̅̄͒̃͛͑͒͘̚͜ ̸̩̠̑̑͊͑̍̄̒̇́̉͗͂͒͋̽̌̕̚͘̚͝͠ ̴̡̧̢̞̼̘͙̣̤̲̫̠̺̦͍̼̼͍̺͈̝̥͕̖̹͛̇̍̈́̀̂̑̓̋̑͌̑̓̅́̊̍͗̄͆͑̔͘͜͝ ̵̢̨͙̙̺̇̀͛̆̈́̓̒̓̃̿̉́͆͂͝͝͠ͅ ̵̨̟͙̟͕̥̠̩̆̐͂̑̎̐͋̌̏͜͠ ̶̧̢̨̛̫͇̮͉͈̠̳̦̜̱̬̳̻̳̯͗̄̌̎̇̄̓̊̓̈́̉̾̾́̀̃̈́́̑̈͘̕͘ ̸̨̨̱̤̯̟̮̗̰͚̯̮̫͎͖̙̬͉̰̳͚̒̀̅̎͛̄̌̌͛̿̅̂̿́̕ ̷̡̧̨͔͕̺͖̙͇͎̻̮̺̱̥̗̹̰͚̘̞̂́̆̍̐̄̓͂͌̎̉͂̂̈́̀͛̓͘̚̚͝ ̸̡̛̹̳̥͉͓͓̼̝͍̱̳͖̼̻̦̝͙̜̯̩̰̑̋̈́̈͑̒̂ͅ ̷̛̦̫͚̯͚̬̭̪̞̘̺͈̼̠̟̝̰̲͖̓͂̆͐̎̑̀̾̀̾̋̾͂̈́̔͘̚͘͝͝͠ ̶̡̼̰̝̳̯͓̲̼̖̹͚̓  ̶̡̡̨̛̛͇͓̘͙̰̫͖͔͇̺̠̤͓̪͔͈͉̲̮̥̲͖̹̰͚̝͔͉͓̱͓͕̼͙̤̖̯̻͈̘̭͎̝́͒̅̏̊͂̅̈́́͗̋̕͝ͅͅͅ ̶̢̢̡̡̡̡̛̹̖̳̜̟̖̘͕͙̲̭͉͕̝̠̫̹̼̖̜͇̘̱͍̪̦͕̖̣̭̫̫̘̝̟̱͕̘͂̉͑͑̑̔͌̐̋̔̄̏̓͋̉͂̑̈́̐͊̾͂̉͘͘̕͘͘ͅ ̷̲̼̬̰̼̝͖͌̿ ̷̧̢͈̩̙̜̰͙̯̝͔̲̲̩̰̤͎͎̦͒̇̐̈͂̋͗̿̿͑̚͝͝ ̵̢̢̧̗͚̩̱̭̺͕̬̥̣̤̥̦͇̫͇̝̥̜͖̜̤́͂ ̵͙̝͎̀̍̊̀̎̈́̅̔̐̎̾͂͆̌̐̇̉͗̋͋͘͘͝͝͝͝͝ͅ ̴̧̖̩̬͓̙̮͇͈̺̹͖́̌̀͊͑̊̓̿͂̅͒̊͋́͆̓͜͝͝͝͝ ̸̧͚͓̹̰̭͔͔̝͓͔̜̩͓̥̒̏̿́̈́̂͌̿͂̈́̍͊̿̂̀̓̾̚̚̕͜͠͝  ̶̢̢̺̻̳̭̘̩̙̼͍͈̣̰̠̠̹̑̈̔̈́͊̈́̉̏̏͆̓̃̕͝ͅ ̴̨̧̡̛͎̮̘̹̬͚̫̱̥̲͔͎͇͈̠̲͇̳̮̙̦̠͙͈̭̠͕͔͈͖͇̔̐̑͒́̔̒̈́̊̍͐̅͗͐͊̽̾́̑̉͌̾̀̀͌̾̚͘͜͜͝ͅͅͅͅ ̸̡̝̣̤̟͚̦͚̠̺̯̙̀̔́̓͗̔̓̀̕̚ ̸̨̨̡̞̩̠͔̰̱̦̦̝͎̦̖͉̩̜̱̰͎̗͓͌͑́́͜͜ ̷̧̪͎̦̞͇͍̗̠̯̦̪̯̠̥̿̈́̈͑̊̚̕͜ͅ ̵͍̗̮̹̪̦̬͇̣̻̭̻͒̒͛̾̈́̆̓̚ ̴̺̤̾́́̓̓̐̂̄͂̇͛̕ ̴̡̪͉̦͈̯̞̼͙̞̫̬̼̩̥̆͌̍̓̀͐̀͊̐̑͆͊́͌́̋̈̍̑͐̐͜͝͝͝͝ ̷̛̜̉̇̑́̍̔̄̒̃̅̚̕̕͝͝ ̶̡̖̰̠͖̙̬͓͇̜͚̲̼̝̖̓͆̎͊̑̍͐̈́́͝ ̶̢̠̮̮̺̹͙̤̮͈͕͚̱̠͖͈̻́̓̉̓͐̉́͒́̓͌̌̌͒̑́̈́̕ ̵̨̘̲̩͙̫̗̖̟͎͍͉̤͕͙̞̮̼͍̜̪̯͎̉ ̷̢̢̢̡͉̮̪̠͍̗̞͙̰̞͍̼̠͖̭̳͈̜̥̍́̓̽͒̽͘͜͜͝ ̴̡̢̛̭̼͓͉̯̲̱̻̂̀̍ ̵̢̛̛̼͔͖̮̝̼̜̠̗̱̼͍̣̭͖̬̗̘͙̜̥̹̺̐͂̍̔̌́͒̐̌̈́͆̾̎̚͝͝͝ͅ ̷̡̯̦͚̝͇͍̳̝̗̟͚̠̯̹͚͙̺̦̭̼͕̉̆́̂̋͒̋͊͊̾͂̌̍̽͊ ̶̢̧̡̟͕̪̱̰͙̼̠̪̠̥͎̫̞͎͕̩͖̥͙̰̲̙̭̇̈́̓̒͒̄̉̊̒̿̾͑͒̂͘̕͜͝ ̷̶̢̧̨̢̲̠̘̙̩̫̣͓̼̺͚̲͔̜͎̜͙̜̗͕̻̖͂͋̑͛̓̏̄̇͒̑̎̊̃̾̋͗̂̈́͊̅̀̈́̾̊͆̍͗̿̽̕̕͠͠ ̶̧̖̤̟͚͍̼͕̟̦̗͇̠̜͍̿̍̆͂̅͆͘͠ͅ ̵̡̡̧̧̧̢͇̺͈̠̰̪̬̥͌̂͂̿̕̕͜

̸̧̢̨͓̞̘̦͐̓̐̀̈̿̈́̒̋͂̔͒̽͗̂́͗̓̐̑̄̐́̚͠͝͝ ̶̛̛̯̠̬͕̂́̎͛̊͒̎͑̃͑̋̈́͑̎͋͌͒͠͠ ̴̨̬̞̭͔̼̫͍͙̖͈̜̥̲̥͎̦͕̟͔̭̍͆͌̈̒̎̒̌̒͗͂̔͛̈́͆͂̈̈́̕͜͠ ̷̯̼̻͔̼̣͔̟̄̏͝ ̵̡̢̡̣̞͈̠̯̙͕͍̘̪͎͇̗̦̖̦̪͔̜̝͕͇͔̬̍ ̴̧̛͖̫͎̺͙̪̮̜̫̣̦̥̗͔͉̭̙͕̙͈̲̫̙̈́̎̍̿͂̆̄̔̈́̋̀́́̌̐͊̐͛̈̄̓͒̚͜ͅ ̷̧̧̨̡̱͖̰̣̬̤̤͔̘͔̟̬̳̦̬͙͎͕͖̘̖̭̤͑͆͑͒͋̌̃̂͒͑̑͛̆̉̏̍̓̓̾̚̚͘͝͠͠ͅ ̸̛̤́̓̀̄̇͑̾͗̋̓͛͒̄ ̴̧̞͔̭̠̩̮͉̫͕͈͈͎̻̰͍̳̲̞̳̘̾̄͛͊̒͑̈̍͛̑͋̔̏́̍̈̇̂̊̅̐̕͝ ̶̛̫̲͎̰͕̘̩͙͓͍̥͓̬̽̏͐͐̂̏̑̽́̂̽̂̉͑̑̾̂̄̽̂͋͠͝ ̷̖͎̩̙͚̖̟̬̬̖̱̣͕̽̿̓́͗̇͒̀͌͋̀͊̽͒͂͗̕̕͠ ̶̡̡̨̛̛͇͓̘͙̰̫͖͔͇̺̠̤͓̪͔͈͉̲̮̥̲͖̹̰͚̝͔͉͓̱͓͕̼͙̤̖̯̻͈̘̭͎̝́͒̅̏̊͂̅̈́́͗̋̕͝ͅͅͅ ̶̢̢̡̡̡̡̛̹̖̳̜̟̖̘͕͙̲̭͉͕̝̠̫̹̼̖̜͇̘̱͍̪̦͕̖̣̭̫̫̘̝̟̱͕̘͂̉͑͑̑̔͌̐̋̔̄̏̓͋̉͂̑̈́̐͊̾͂̉͘͘̕͘͘ͅ ̷̧̧̛̻̫̗͖̟̬͔̘̣͚͇̇͐̈́̃͗̑͛̇̀̋̏͌͋̀̅͋̍̓̏͋̋̉̕͘͘͜͝͝ ̶̧̧̻͖͙͚͉̰̜͓̮̲͚͕̩͚̣̱̙̘͖͓͍̺̮̙͛̐̓̕ͅ ̸̢̘̰͇̙̮̣͖̺̥̜̲̜͚̦̙̯͕͍͉̹̯̟̤͈͖̔̕͜ͅ ̶̧̡̛̛̝̤̳̲̼̣̬̭̲͓͖͇͔͙̽͊͆́͐͌͒̊́̀̂͊͊̈́̒̆͆̈́͌͌̕͠ ̴̠̫̞̗̤͈̂̄͛̈̒̍̈́̀̄̂̿̋̿̄̐͑̉̔̐̏͘͝͝͝  ̴̢̨̢̨̩͓͓̬̪̙͕͎̱̫̣̗͉̖̜̠͈͈̼̥̳̩̻͍̯̲̱̱̯͇̫͍̖͇͖̝͈̙̬̍̇͑̃̋̈́̐͊͌͑̚̚͘͠͝ͅ ̴̨̨̧̢̨̧̟̱̫͉̻̥̼̫̣͈͚̬̜̣̣̯̫̣̬̗͇̟̼̫͕̟̮͔̠̆̀͆̂̇̎͂̈̉̀̊͗͛́́̽͗͐͐̈̈́͐͂͂̇̈̆̊̃͂͊̋̒̎̎̈́̚̕͜͜͠ ̵̧̢̧̡̢̻̩̬̳͍̲̦̖͓͉̲̙͈͚̯͍̞̖̖̞̯̠̞̬̳̘̪͕̪̞̱̇̒̅̉́̊̃̉̀͜ͅ ̶̷̡̡̧͖͎̼̭̖͓̲̭̩͚̲̬̰̭̥̞̭̻̜̠̼̩̮̥̜̗̱͎̗̗̪̗̟̰̥͔̣̞̬͕͓̜͙̬̹̗̠͈̹̼̖͉̺̮͚͖̙̓̿̄̈́͊͋̈͛͒̊͂̀͛͛́̋͋̀́̃̏̽̀̓̆͐̍́̆͌̎͆̋͋̎͊͆̈́̓́̓̀̇͂͊̀̚̕̕͝͝͝͠͠ ̸̧̛̛͕̲͔̜͉͇̂͑̅͛̊͑̄̽̈́͆͊̎̅̇̐̅̕͝ ̶̨̟̝͉̭̳̼̹͇̯͈̱͖̪͍̙̂̏̅̓̉̄̑̈́̒͂̃̊̔̓̃̔̎̕͘̕͠͠͠͠͝͝͝ ̷̨̳̙̺̲̭̳̠̩̱̞̖̯̦̭̾͋̌̂̿̒̓̎͗ͅ ̷̧̢̡̹̘̘̝̝̦͚͉͚͕̖̳̞̫̝͓̩̣͓̮͓̙̘̌͒́̊͆͒̆̀͌͌͜ͅ ̷͚̮͇̘̱̯͍͙̙̯̝̤̲̠̯̫͓̱͍̱͖̃̾ ̵̞̫̠̹͙̪̩̠̞̟̫̀͆͊̃͋͐͋̀̽̈́̌̕̕ ̵̡̢̠̖̘̰̮̣̤̙̍̅̄͒̃͛͑͒͘̚͜ ̸̩̠̑̑͊͑̍̄̒̇́̉͗͂͒͋̽̌̕̚͘̚͝͠ ̴̡̧̢̞̼̘͙̣̤̲̫̠̺̦͍̼̼͍̺͈̝̥͕̖̹͛̇̍̈́̀̂̑̓̋̑͌̑̓̅́̊̍͗̄͆͑̔͘͜͝ ̵̢̨͙̙̺̇̀͛̆̈́̓̒̓̃̿̉́͆͂͝͝͠ͅ ̵̨̟͙̟͕̥̠̩̆̐͂̑̎̐͋̌̏͜͠ ̶̧̢̨̛̫͇̮͉͈̠̳̦̜̱̬̳̻̳̯͗̄̌̎̇̄̓̊̓̈́̉̾̾́̀̃̈́́̑̈͘̕͘ ̸̨̨̱̤̯̟̮̗̰͚̯̮̫͎͖̙̬͉̰̳͚̒̀̅̎͛̄̌̌͛̿̅̂̿́̕ ̷̡̧̨͔͕̺͖̙͇͎̻̮̺̱̥̗̹̰͚̘̞̂́̆̍̐̄̓͂͌̎̉͂̂̈́̀͛̓͘̚̚͝ ̸̡̛̹̳̥͉͓͓̼̝͍̱̳͖̼̻̦̝͙̜̯̩̰̑̋̈́̈͑̒̂ͅ ̷̛̦̫͚̯͚̬̭̪̞̘̺͈̼̠̟̝̰̲͖̓͂̆͐̎̑̀̾̀̾̋̾͂̈́̔͘̚͘͝͝͠ ̶̡̼̰̝̳̯͓̲̼̖̹͚̓  ̶̡̡̨̛̛͇͓̘͙̰̫͖͔͇̺̠̤͓̪͔͈͉̲̮̥̲͖̹̰͚̝͔͉͓̱͓͕̼͙̤̖̯̻͈̘̭͎̝́͒̅̏̊͂̅̈́́͗̋̕͝ͅͅͅ ̶̢̢̡̡̡̡̛̹̖̳̜̟̖̘͕͙̲̭͉͕̝̠̫̹̼̖̜͇̘̱͍̪̦͕̖̣̭̫̫̘̝̟̱͕̘͂̉͑͑̑̔͌̐̋̔̄̏̓͋̉͂̑̈́̐͊̾͂̉͘͘̕͘͘ͅ ̷̲̼̬̰̼̝͖͌̿ ̷̧̢͈̩̙̜̰͙̯̝͔̲̲̩̰̤͎͎̦͒̇̐̈͂̋͗̿̿͑̚͝͝ ̵̢̢̧̗͚̩̱̭̺͕̬̥̣̤̥̦͇̫͇̝̥̜͖̜̤́͂ ̵͙̝͎̀̍̊̀̎̈́̅̔̐̎̾͂͆̌̐̇̉͗̋͋͘͘͝͝͝͝͝ͅ ̴̧̖̩̬͓̙̮͇͈̺̹͖́̌̀͊͑̊̓̿͂̅͒̊͋́͆̓͜͝͝͝͝ ̸̧͚͓̹̰̭͔͔̝͓͔̜̩͓̥̒̏̿́̈́̂͌̿͂̈́̍͊̿̂̀̓̾̚̚̕͜͠͝  ̶̢̢̺̻̳̭̘̩̙̼͍͈̣̰̠̠̹̑̈̔̈́͊̈́̉̏̏͆̓̃̕͝ͅ ̴̨̧̡̛͎̮̘̹̬͚̫̱̥̲͔͎͇͈̠̲͇̳̮̙̦̠͙͈̭̠͕͔͈͖͇̔̐̑͒́̔̒̈́̊̍͐̅͗͐͊̽̾́̑̉͌̾̀̀͌̾̚͘͜͜͝ͅͅͅͅ ̸̡̝̣̤̟͚̦͚̠̺̯̙̀̔́̓͗̔̓̀̕̚ ̸̨̨̡̞̩̠͔̰̱̦̦̝͎̦̖͉̩̜̱̰͎̗͓͌͑́́͜͜ ̷̧̪͎̦̞͇͍̗̠̯̦̪̯̠̥̿̈́̈͑̊̚̕͜ͅ ̵͍̗̮̹̪̦̬͇̣̻̭̻͒̒͛̾̈́̆̓̚ ̴̺̤̾́́̓̓̐̂̄͂̇͛̕ ̴̡̪͉̦͈̯̞̼͙̞̫̬̼̩̥̆͌̍̓̀͐̀͊̐̑͆͊́͌́̋̈̍̑͐̐͜͝͝͝͝ ̷̛̜̉̇̑́̍̔̄̒̃̅̚̕̕͝͝ ̶̡̖̰̠͖̙̬͓͇̜͚̲̼̝̖̓͆̎͊̑̍͐̈́́͝ ̶̢̠̮̮̺̹͙̤̮͈͕͚̱̠͖͈̻́̓̉̓͐̉́͒́̓͌̌̌͒̑́̈́̕ ̵̨̘̲̩͙̫̗̖̟͎͍͉̤͕͙̞̮̼͍̜̪̯͎̉ ̷̷̢̢̢̡̡͉̮̪̠͍̗̞͙̰̞͍̼̠͖̭̳͈̜̥̯̦͚̝͇͍̳̝̗̟͚̠̯̹͚͙̺̦̭̼͕̍́̓̽͒̽̉̆́̂̋͒̋͊͊̾͂̌̍̽͊͘͜͜͝

̴̛̹̥̲̤̈́̀̈́̎̚͜ͅ ̶̢̢̭̹̳̦̹̓͛́̏̀͆̅͒͒ ̵͔̙̫͚̹̯̰͔̹̠̄̋͜ ̷̝̫̱̮̳͉̟̞̣̀̂̈́̏̽́̌̀̈́͛ ̶͓̖̩̠͚͍̺̙̍̍̎͜ ̴̨̪͙̠͕̖̘̒̎̂̎̈́͌͑̏͋̀̊̚̚ ̶̺͙̱̘͎͛̀̅̓ͅ ̴̭̩͈̳̳͓̝͇̠̬̟͇̞̼̌̉̓͌̇̒̌ͅ ̵̧̛̦̻̬̯̖̹͙̤̅͆͒̐̑̐͘͜͠ ̶̢̢̢̘͙̥̗̖͎̲̝͓͚̰̽͆̌̍̽̋̎̆͑͜͜͝ ̷̨͉̾̓̀͛̅̈͑̔̓͒͌͝͝ ̴̨̨̞̹͔̭̟̀̑̽͊̃͑̄͋̓́̕ͅ ̸͓͇͈͉͔͚̎̓̽̋̂̔̏̒͛͊̊͆͘ ̷̖̞̦̻͉̺͇͍̠̺͎̔̄̃̋̾͐͋̀̈́͆̈́͊̚͝ ̵̢̡̛̩̳͉̱̙̘̘̱͓̮̠͚͙̌͂̑̿̽̋̌́͊̍͠͝ ̷̪͍̞̋̎̏̈́̾̐͘͝ͅ ̵̛̞̫͇̗̑͊́ ̸̡̱̠̙̱͉̳̤̭̞̉̅̄͋̅͒ ̷̭̣̙̼̗̻̠̄̉̋̅̊̑͂͋̑̂̐̓̽̎͝ ̷̡̢̖͕͎̬̣̩͕͈̭͙̭̆̇̿̾̿̆̄͒̚͜ ̶̙̫̜̜̬̼̰̻͌̈́͑̓͛͑̓͐̋̀̎͜ͅ ̴̢̢͙̳̬̦͚̼͙̳̭̟͉̬̬̃̌ ̴̡̹̙̰̓͐̀̀̐̽̎̿͜ ̴̞͖̫̘̪̈́ ̵͍̝̠͉̀̈́͐͘͜ ̴̧̧̪̦͚̜̤̼̬͕̞̻̤̞͓̯̉̄̒ ̴̨̡͙̠͎͌̃̋͘ ̸̨̧̠̰͍̪̫͇̣̥̭͈͓̩̲̅͠ ̷̛͙͉͕̺̝̘̗̮̝̺̳͚͌͗͋̈́͐̐̂͛͠ ̸̨̦̼̘͖͑̀̓ ̷̨̗͌̍̾̋̀͆͗̈́̃̉̽͒͘̚̚͠ ̸̢̨̲̪̠̪͓̻̿̅̈̈̇̚͠ ̴̛̤̦̣̤͎̲̖̩̓̒̑̽̒̚ ̷̰̖̫̱͎̓͋͛͑̀̇́̎̈́͌̂̎̒͝͠͝ ̸̡̧̯͛͌̐͑͌̓̐̇̀̋̆̃̂͘͝͝ ̵̡̡̺̩͓̺̫̫̺͎̫̝̝̓ ̶̨̦̠͙̦̞͉̬̹̯̰̭̏͐͠͝ ̷̢̢̙̺̹͓̪̄̉́͌̀͑͌̇̋̀́̈̈́̕ ̴̱͚̞̲̰̳͂͜ ̵̢̭̭̰̖̻̘̹̹̖̼̻͔͗̄̓͜ ̴͓͋̅͛̇͊͗̕ ̷̨̨͔̓̓ ̶̨͔̣̣̭̺̞͔̌̏̀̄ͅ ̸̩͖͇̼̺̟̇̄̋̈́͋͑̍̽̌̆͘͘ ̴̢̛̛̜͚͔͚̼̬͇͓̻̙̱̪̪͇̀̎̆͆̽̍̈́̈́̉͂̐̇͠ ̸̧̤̪̲̝͇̫͎̯͈͐͑ ̶̮̟̯̘̟̳͗͌͋ ̴̨̨̨̹̪͔͔̳͇̗͚̥̀͒̂́͗̇̏̚̕ ̸̢̬̈́͂͑̏͛́͘ ̷̡̢͚͖̺͚̱̥̪̦̝̰͈̀̂̏̌̎́͛̒̃̇̀̿͘͜͝͠ͅ ̵̨̰͙͈͎͚͛̐̀͆̌ ̴̢̛̳̝͙͖̭͙̟̝͚̹̥̲̭͑͌̎̌́̏̀̽͘͘͜͝ ̶̢͖̲͕͉̗̭̭̭͇͍̜̼̞̆̅̈́͗́͂͐̈́̌̌̃̉̌̃̑͝ ̷̢̨̧̙͎̫̜̤̤̯̟̪̮̮̀̽͜ͅ ̴̨͚̪̅̒̊̓̐̉ ̴̪͈̫̗̜͗̿̄̕͜͝ ̷̢̪̯͕́̐́͌̒̌̒̕̚ ̴̠͍̥̞̰̣͖͙͂̌̔͑ ̸̡̲͉̰̪̱̫̰͖̰͔͍̜̱̬̥̅͐̈́͛̌͐̈́̑̊͗̋͌̈́̀̀̅ ̵̨̛͔̳͙̄̌̊͊́̒̎̿̐͑̕ ̵̡̩̖̣̬͐̈́̊̈́̕͝ ̶̨̢̺͚̲͔̜͎̜͙̜̗͕̻̖̾̊͆̍͗̿̽̕ ̶̧̖̤̟͚͍̼͕̟̦̗͇̠̜͍̿̍̆͂̅͆͘͠ͅ ̵̡̡̧̧̧̢͇̺͈̠̰̪̬̥͌̂͂̿̕̕͜

̵ ̶ ̸ ̸ ̷ ̴ ̵ ̴ ̷̨̡̦̗̣̪̫̻̟̗̗̈́̍͗̀̊̕ ̴̠͌̎ ̶̠̗̭̗̻́͌ ̴̮̑͠  ̸̢͚̩̤͔̬̙́͆ ̵̡̭̣̖̔̃̇́̀̉͐̀͋͋̆ ̸͇̬́̐ ̷̨̩͈̣̰̞̤̫̺̯̹̮̱͓̠̇̈́̋͋̕ͅͅ  ̴̢̧̞̩̖͉͓̫̯̲̟̟͚̗̻̺̩̘̥̤̭̍̂̃͐̇̉́́͂͂̊̽̂̕͜͠  ̶̢̧̮͔̯͎͖̫̤̞͊̈́̿͑  ̷̡̢̛̯̝̖̖͚̤̮̖̱̻̬̌̔͑͊̓̓̅̾̐̂̎̍́́̒͊͋͗̈́͘͘̚͝͝   ̷̡̢̗̳͈͓̯̹͍̻̰̱̤̠̦͙̬̝̱̪̲̖͉̘̹̩͉̞̙̩͙̫̲̬̐͗̇̏́̔́̆̄̾̑͆͘͘͜ ̴̨̢̖̜͇̻̜̥̺̱͇̻̠̘̜͙͍̞̘̘̫̳̩͔̳̪͗́̀̿͆͌̈́́͋̎̑͑̐̒̈́̅͂̀̈́̍̒̕̚͠͠   ̷̢̨͎̭̩̫̤̳̱̠͉͖̙̤̫̱̑̋̄̈́̄͆͐̈́͌̃̈̒͒͆̾̋͌́̊͠͠ͅ   ̸̛͎̥̈̾̈́̽̂̓̇̓̈́̂̒͋̋̋͒̾̈͋̚̕͝ͅ  ̶̗̥̝̯̖̪̹̼̖̮͑̅͗̌͗̊̅̎͂̂  ̵̧̛͓̫͓̤̰̠̻̰̮̯͕̬͖͚͕̤͕̹̱͂͋̀̀̒͛͌̅̒̅̋̓̔̀͂̂̽̈́̋̍͗̈́́͒́̃̚͜͝ ̷̨̩͈̣̰̞̤̫̺̯̹̮̱͓̠̇̈́̋͋̕ͅͅ ̶̨̢̛̣̖̱͇̤̟̤̤̝̝̤̤̣͙͐̾͂̎͆͑͛͝͝ ̸̧̧̜̞͇̳͙̦̩̫̦͙̑͐̏̈̇̃̐̾̄͋͝͝ ̴̢͎̦̘̬̯̹̣̐͆ ̴̢̧̞̩̖͉͓̫̯̲̟̟͚̗̻̺̩̘̥̤̭̍̂̃͐̇̉́́͂͂̊̽̂̕͜͠  ̴̭̖͓̬̱͙̯̟͇̬̮̤̹̳̙̯̻͌̃͆͌͗̊̅͂̓͌̒̃̒̏  ̵̧̧̤̗͚͉̬̝͉̺̗͔͉͚͇̩̬͙̩̦̰͍̽̈́  ̵̢̨̧̤̤̹͎̤̹̻̘̮̝̠̝͖̠̠͔͈̩̞͈̀͂̓̔͘ ̸̡̛͚̖͙̣̘̪̽ ̴̳̩̖̲͉͕͈͙̗͊͗̀͋̿̐ͅ ̶̶̳̦͚͑̌͑͂  ̴̴ ̴ ̷ ̵ ̸

 

"̷R̵e̴a̶.̸.̷.̸n̴.̴.̷.̴"

 

̴̢̨̢̨̩͓͓̬̪̙͕͎̱̫̣̗͉̖̜̠͈͈̼̥̳̩̻͍̯̲̱̱̯͇̫͍̖͇͖̝͈̙̬̍̇͑̃̋̈́̐͊͌͑̚̚͘͠͝ͅ ̴̨̨̧̢̨̧̟̱̫͉̻̥̼̫̣͈͚̬̜̣̣̯̫̣̬̗͇̟̼̫͕̟̮͔̠̆̀͆̂̇̎͂̈̉̀̊͗͛́́̽͗͐͐̈̈́͐͂͂̇̈̆̊̃͂͊̋̒̎̎̈́̚̕͜͜͠ ̵̧̢̧̡̢̻̩̬̳͍̲̦̖͓͉̲̙͈͚̯͍̞̖̖̞̯̠̞̬̳̘̪͕̪̞̱̇̒̅̉́̊̃̉̀͜ͅ ̶̷̡̡̧͖͎̼̭̖͓̲̭̩͚̲̬̰̭̥̞̭̻̜̠̼̩̮̥̜̗̱͎̗̗̪̗̟̰̥͔̣̞̬͕͓̜͙̬̹̗̠͈̹̼̖͉̺̮͚͖̙̓̿̄̈́͊͋̈͛͒̊͂̀͛͛́̋͋̀́̃̏̽̀̓̆͐̍́̆͌̎͆̋͋̎͊͆̈́̓́̓̀̇͂͊̀̚̕̕͝͝͝͠͠ ̸̧̛̛͕̲͔̜͉͇̂͑̅͛̊͑̄̽̈́͆͊̎̅̇̐̅̕͝ ̶̨̟̝͉̭̳̼̹͇̯͈̱͖̪͍̙̂̏̅̓̉̄̑̈́̒͂̃̊̔̓̃̔̎̕͘̕͠͠͠͠͝͝͝ “̷̨̳̙̺̲̭̳̠̩̱̞̖̯̦̭̾͋̌̂̿̒̓̎͗ͅẎ̵̹͇͇̅̈́̉ͅo̴̜͉͉̗͕̒͜u̶̩̺̙͔̾̄͛̾̆̏ ̷̧̢̡̹̘̘̝̝̦͚͉͚͕̖̳̞̫̝͓̩̣͓̮͓̙̘̌͒́̊͆͒̆̀͌͌͜ͅ ̷͚̮͇̘̱̯͍͙̙̯̝̤̲̠̯̫͓̱͍̱͖̃̾ ̵̞̫̠̹͙̪̩̠̞̟̫̀͆͊̃͋͐͋̀̽̈́̌̕̕ ̵̡̢̠̖̘̰̮̣̤̙̍̅̄͒̃͛͑͒͘̚͜ ̸̩̠̑̑͊͑̍̄̒̇́̉͗͂͒͋̽̌̕̚͘̚͝͠ ̴̡̧̢̞̼̘͙̣̤̲̫̠̺̦͍̼̼͍̺͈̝̥͕̖̹͛̇̍̈́̀̂̑̓̋̑͌̑̓̅́̊̍͗̄͆͑̔͘͜͝ ̵̢̨͙̙̺̇̀͛̆̈́̓̒̓̃̿̉́͆͂͝͝͠ͅ ̵̨̟͙̟͕̥̠̩̆̐͂̑̎̐͋̌̏͜͠ c̸̮͙̙̓̈̓̄̽̓ͅȧ̵͉͐̃͗͆̽n̴̳͎̕͘'̸͎͆̾̀t̵̡̤͎̰̆ ̷̡̧̨͔͕̺͖̙͇͎̻̮̺̱̥̗̹̰͚̘̞̂́̆̍̐̄̓͂͌̎̉͂̂̈́̀͛̓͘̚̚͝ ̸̡̛̹̳̥͉͓͓̼̝͍̱̳͖̼̻̦̝͙̜̯̩̰̑̋̈́̈͑̒̂ͅ ̷̛̦̫͚̯͚̬̭̪̞̘̺͈̼̠̟̝̰̲͖̓͂̆͐̎̑̀̾̀̾̋̾͂̈́̔͘̚͘͝͝͠ ̶̡̼̰̝̳̯͓̲̼̖̹͚̓  ̶̡̡̨̛̛͇͓̘͙̰̫͖͔͇̺̠̤͓̪͔͈͉̲̮̥̲͖̹̰͚̝͔͉͓̱͓͕̼͙̤̖̯̻͈̘̭͎̝́͒̅̏̊͂̅̈́́͗̋̕͝ͅͅͅ ̶̢̢̡̡̡̡̛̹̖̳̜̟̖̘͕͙̲̭͉͕̝̠̫̹̼̖̜͇̘̱͍̪̦͕̖̣̭̫̫̘̝̟̱͕̘͂̉͑͑̑̔͌̐̋̔̄̏̓͋̉͂̑̈́̐͊̾͂̉͘͘̕͘͘ͅ ̷̲̼̬̰̼̝͖͌̿ ̷̧̢͈̩̙̜̰͙̯̝͔̲̲̩̰̤͎͎̦͒̇̐̈͂̋͗̿̿͑̚͝͝ ̵̢̢̧̗͚̩̱̭̺͕̬̥̣̤̥̦͇̫͇̝̥̜͖̜̤́͂ ̵̀̍̊̀̎̈́̅̔̐̎̾͂͆̌̐̇͘͘͝͝͝͝

 

Haha…

 ̸͓͇͈͉͔͚̎̓̽̋̂̔̏̒͛͊̊͆͘ ̷̖̞̦̻͉̺͇͍̠̺͎̔̄̃̋̾͐͋̀̈́͆̈́͊̚͝ ̵̢̡̛̩̳͉̱̙̘̘̱͓̮̠͚͙̌͂̑̿̽̋̌́͊̍͠͝ ̷̪͍̞̋̎̏̈́̾̐͘͝ͅ ̵̛̞̫͇̗̑͊́ ̸̡̱̠̙̱͉̳̤̭̞̉̅̄͋̅͒ ̷̭̣̙̼̗̻̠̄̉̋̅̊̑͂͋̑̂̐̓̽̎͝  ̴̜̻̣̻̄̀̍͂̊͐̾̊̀̅̆̊̑̓̈̐͌̉̈͐̓̉͑͝͠s̴̛͙̒̔͛͑̎̊̇̉̈͌̏͆͘̕̚͘͜͝a̵̧͙̣̘͎͆̈́͋̈̀̚̚v̶̢̢̨͕̱͖̲͉̺̥͖͕̲̙͉̆̽͗͆̎̎̎͛̓̀̓̐̈́̅̓͊̍̂͌̋̇̉͌̀̌̽́̏̌̽̃̔͒́̈́͜͝͝ê̶̡̨̨̡̤̩͙̭̘͕̼̻͇̬͕̰͕̖̲̰̘͋̃̏́͒̄̒̑́͘̚͝ ̷̡̢̗̳͈͓̯̹͍̻̰̱̤̠̦͙̬̝̱̪̲̖͉̘̹̩͉̞̙̩͙̫̲̬̐͗̇̏́̔́̆̄̾̑͆͘͘͜ ̴̨̢̖̜͇̻̜̥̺̱͇̻̠̘̜͙͍̞̘̘̫̳̩͔̳̪͗́̀̿͆͌̈́́͋̎̑͑̐̒̈́̅͂̀̈́̍̒̕̚͠͠   ̷̢̨͎̭̩̫̤̳̱̠͉͖̙̤̫̱̑̋̄̈́̄͆͐̈́͌̃̈̒͒͆̾̋͌́̊͠͠ͅ   ̸̛͎̥̈̾̈́̽̂̓̇̓̈́̂̒͋̋̋͒̾̈͋̚̕͝ͅ  ̶̗̥̝̯̖̪̹̼̖̮͑̅͗̌͗̊̅̎͂̂  ̵̧̛͓̫͓̤̰̠̻̰̮̯͕̬͖͚͕̤͕̹̱͂͋̀̀̒͛͌̅̒̅̋̓̔̀͂̂̽̈́̋̍͗̈́́͒́̃̚͜͝ ̷̨̩͈̣̰̞̤̫̺̯̹̮̱͓̠̇̈́̋͋̕ͅͅ ̶̨̢̛̣̖̱͇̤̟̤̤̝̝̤̤̣͙͐̾͂̎͆͑͛͝͝  ̴̧̧̢̨̡̧̛͚̜̹͚͖̣̦̩̥̮̻̞̗͔̞͉̬̯̞̰̫̪̤͉̱͚̳̫̜̜͚͈̠͉̫͙͚͙̻̻̣̫̇͆̏̀̽͗́̍̐̽̉͂̀͆̋͛̏̿̉̋͌̊̾͊́̃̀̊̈͛́̋̍̔̕͘͜͠͝͝͠͠ ̸̡̢̡̡̡̛̩̗̬̮̭̤̫̬̠͇̹̺̰̻͖̬̤̻̝̺͉̭͚͔̱̪͖͇̖͇̩̩͚͎̰̦̝̈̏̽̍̀̌̈́̈̑͛̑̂̔̏͛͛̒̅́͊̾͑̈̇̅̅̈́̅̉̄̎̐̔́̏͂͋̌̕͠ͅä̷̰͇͙͎͈̤̳̲̻̩͎̖͚̮̺͔̗̠̱͖͈̪́͌̏̔̇̋͛̑̕͝n̵̨̨̗̠̼͖̺̟̺͔͍̝̻͙̳̰̮̊̆͐̏͊̄͋̾̇́͌̑̓̈̄̎̐̎̀͋̕̚͝͝ͅý̷͍̭͚̼̫̦̬̲̦͚̥̻̖̤̏͂́͂́̂̓͂̈́̇͆̚͝o̶͓̫͕̟͇͚͇̤̹̮̿̑n̶̢̢̨̨̨̟̫̹̱̳͖̳̖͇̩̙̜͓̹͇̭̈́̑͆̀̈́́̽́́͂̇̿͑̋͐̓̃́͐̐̚͜͝ͅe̴̜̖̤̫̺͛͂̿̔́̇͛͘͘͜͝ ̵̪̽́̈́͆͊̎̽̿̒̓͗͊͐́̈́̇̇̈͂̚͘̕͝ ̸̤͉̺̪̟̲͖͙̱̙̪͉̣͔̙̰̖̩̘̯̜̦͙̳̥̻̰̑̎̌̌͊̚ͅ ̸̨̨̡̞̩̠͔̰̱̦̦̝͎̦̖͉̩̜̱̰͎̗͓͌͑́́͜͜ ̷̧̪͎̦̞͇͍̗̠̯̦̪̯̠̥̿̈́̈͑̊̚̕͜ͅ ̵͍̗̮̹̪̦̬͇̣̻̭̻͒̒͛̾̈́̆̓̚ ̴̺̤̾́́̓̓̐̂̄͂̇͛̕ ̴̡̪͉̦͈̯̞̼͙̞̫̬̼̩̥̆͌̍̓̀͐̀͊̐̑͆͊́͌́̋̈̍̑͐̐͜͝͝͝͝ ̴̨̢̧̧̨̡̧̛̙̻͎̳͍̹̯͈̞̜̯̗̔́̌͆͊͌̾́̀̂̓̄̒̕̚͘͘͜ͅ ̴̗̥̆̅͂̎̾͒̂̌̀̋̓͊͘̕̚͘͝͠͝͠ ̷̛̜̉̇̑́̍̔̄̒̃̅̚̕̕͝͝

If…

 

If he only could've just done something so simple— if he only could’ve just m̴o̷v̵e̵d.̵.̷.̵

 

If he only could've just r̷͍̎a̷̼͠ḯ̵̺s̴̱͊è̴̜d̵̞͋ ̴̮͆his arms and p̷̻̄l̶͖͌̕a̶̱͌c̸̜̑è̴̘̘̏d̶̞́̿ his hands against the Azure Knights’ armor…

 

And just p̷͖̃u̷͈̿s̶̯͑h̴̯̚e̷̖͑d̷̠̄ as hard as he could…

 

So hard that he would just t̵͇̂u̴̕͜m̴̩͊b̷͍̔l̶̺̀e̶̞͘ and s̸͚͗t̴̻͋ä̷̹́n̷̹̈́d̷̫͆ where Ordine was standing…

 

And just t̶̺͝ a̶͍̯͒k̷̢̰̏e̸͔͝ ̵̤̾͂ͅṯ̶̙̇́h̸̘͔͂e̶̺͍͐͘ ̴̘͋h̵̬͙̍i̸̒͜t̶͎̗̄.̴̙̞̔.̶̬̈́.̴̫̊̏..

 

And just t̷̬́a̵̲͛k̷̯̅e̵͋ͅ the ḧ̴̯i̶̮̾ṭ̸͠..

 

And just take the hit…

 

So Crow wouldn’t get h̷͓̮͆̀ǘ̸͍̆r̷̖͊̒̄t̵̘̐̋́.̸͇͙̰̊͘.̶̗͊̔̚.̸̘̆̽͝

 

So Crow wouldn’t d̴̘͓̻̰͇͎̼̣̑͂̒̈́͐͛̓̈́̏͑̏̔́̽̑̈į̸̡̨̨̙̮̣̙̼̲͍̣̏̿͛̿̍͑̍̾͘̚è̷̢̲̥̹̺̼̤̠̩̮̘̾̐͑͜.̴̧̡̧̠̝̱͙̣̻̗̻̖̺̾̌͆̕.̸̹̜̙͈̹̺͛̇́͊̕ͅ.̴͖͈̣͉̲̙̠͈̗̰͉͈̳͉͔̀̈́̊͑̔̎̐̏̄̿

Then Rean would.

.

.

.

THUMP

.

THUMP

.

THUMP

.

.

.

.

 

So he did.

T̸̙̤̟̓̆̊͌́̚͝ͅH̷͖͈̐̿̑̑̐̍͋̉̾̓̆͌Ữ̷̢̻̘̯̣̲̠̯̖̻̔̓̄̇͗̑̽̌͗͂̍͝M̷̜̼͎̠̹̼̰̪̫̮̗̟͇̻̐̔̇͘P̶͙̗̋͊͘

.

The Azure Knight stumbled to the right, having been abruptly pushed by a desperate hand. Meanwhile, Valimar’s ashen armor succumbed to the Vermillion Apocalypse’s sharp tail, becoming cleanly impaled through the chest.

 

Hah…

 

Lights flickered in the cockpit, of unending warning signals and dangerous vital signs levels flashing on his screen. Sharp crackling noises deafened throughout the air as the crimson-coated tail started to recede, leaving a giant, gaping hole in the center of the Ashen Knight. 

 

CRASH , resounded from how a vengeful, trustworthy double saber cleanly cut the tail off.

 

CRASH, came another hit to the Vermillion Knight.

 

CRASH, another.

 

C R A S H

 

Hah…

 

Valimar crumpled to his knees with an echoing thud, the sound endlessly looping and reverberating and layering in everyone’s ears until they stopped denying what they were seeing.

The only exceptions were the Ashen Awakener and his Knight, both raising a shaky hand to hover over a vital piece that was now missing to them.

“I’m sorry… Valimar…”

 

It was so strange how everything hurt…

 

Red painted his fingers. 

Blood streamed from the corner of his lips.

Tears burned trails down his cheeks.

Hot, searing pain blossomed from his center, a familiar sensation to that time the flaming debris had pierced through his chest on the day those jaegers attacked.

 

...yet this didn’t hurt as much as back then.

 

“There is no need to apologize, Rean.”

The voice, usually so robotic, offered a reassuring, human-sounding chuckle. It filled him with immense warmth and relief that… Valimar didn't hate him and that… Everyone else was safe.

 

Oh. 

That was it. 

The reason this didn’t hurt as much as before must've been because... 

 

“You were only protecting your loved one. Why would you be sorry for that?”

*Chapter 61- Losing You

“So, this was your choice.”

For a moment, everyone disappeared. Everything disappeared. Rean was still lying down, feeling the blood pool from his wound, but he was in complete darkness. In front of him, stood the manifestation of his power.

Rean closed his eyes. Breathing in. Breathing out.

“Do you have a problem with it?”

 For once, on the face that seemed scarred with a frown, Rean could see a glimpse of a smile.

“It went beyond my expectations, but I… don’t disapprove. Even if it came with sacrifice, it is nice… to finally understand what love feels like.”

That choked out a small laugh out of him.

“Yeah.”

His other self turned away and began to walk away from him.

“Rest well, Rean Schwarzer.”

.

.

.

“Vita, please! He’s dying! Save him!”

He’d never heard Crow’s voice beg before.

“I’m sorry… But it’s futile.”

His vision was blurry, having trouble readjusting to the light. He relied on his other senses to tell him that all his classmates were circling around him, trying every method to tend to the wound in his chest.

But, the pain was fading. It wasn’t due to their healing.

He grit his teeth.

Breathing in.

Breathing out.

"Is the prince… alright..?"

It was Emma who spoke. “Rean, please stop talking. He’s alright, just- just conserve your energy.”

He shook his head, knowing that it was too late for him. What a liar he was. He’d promised to see the next day with them, to see peace with them, to graduate together with them. 

"I guess the plan… to unleash the Great One before it reaches its full power… is a bust… And now I… I have to break our promise… All that… for nothing…" His voice was only a mere squeak, a tiny laugh. “It’s strange though… I’m not…”

This was his choice.

His sacrifice. 

The only way he wouldn’t be crushed by despair. 

“...I’m not even sorry.”

His eyes wandered around to look at the rest of Class VII's expressions. He couldn't read a single one of them. Maybe they didn't care about him because he was so unapologetic for his failure and breaking his promise?

Ah. That would sting.

He closed his eyes and took a deep breath.

“...but even then… would you... still… call me your friend..?”

Everything was fading. The sight of them, the sound of them, the smell of blood, the taste of iron, his warmth. All going away. 

He was. 

Going away.

..

Was it… 

…

…too late..?

.

..

…

 

"OF COURSE!" 

 

The world lights up around him for just a moment, his friends firmly chorus those words as if it's law, like the way the moon tells the ocean to turn tides. 

Then, warmth seeps from them. 

"You'll always be our friend, Rean..!"

They all say with varying volumes and cracks but all with the same tears streaming down their faces. 

They say it without hesitation. They say it like Rean is a fool for ever thinking they would give up on him.

More tears well up in his own eyes, feeling regret that he ever doubted them for a moment. He truly is a fool and he only realizes it at the very end when Alisa collapses to her knees, letting the sobs escape her first

When Elliot shakes his shoulders for him to stay awake

When Emma desperately continues to use her magic to heal him

When Machias grabs his wrist, yelling and shouting and crying at him about how he promised to not die

When Jusis closes his eyes, yet failing to his grief with his crumbling stoic expression

When Gaius manages to show a wobbly smile, barely able to respect his friend’s last wish

When Fie lowers her head in painful acceptance of his fate

When Laura tries to maintain a strong face, but her whole body is shaking

While Millium holds onto Laura’s arm, confused by how how tears couldn't stop streaming down her face

And when Crow grips his hand tightly, whispering apologies and wishing how their places were swapped. 

They're crying for him. Wanting him to stay. They all want to keep him in Class VII. Even after all the trouble he caused them. 

This is tragedy. This is love.

At last, his calm smile reflects how he genuinely feels inside. Really, he had been worrying for no reason. It's ironic how, only now while he's on his deathbed, that he is finally without any shred of doubt that he is a member of this class… that he really belongs here. 

And yet, despite how he's going to be lost and how everyone pleads to him with agonizing expressions, he continues to believe that Class VII will be fine without him. 

“Thank you.” By some miracle, he finds the strength to speak and squeeze Crow’s hand one last time, before moving it up to his lover’s chest. “Meeting you all was the best thing to happen to me.”

At that moment, from the massive holes in the sides of the castle, the warm rays of dawn shine on them. The timing makes him chuckle before he takes a deep breath.

His last breath.

“I love you all… so… so much…”

More knees drop, more tears fall. Undoubtedly, most of them continue to protest, unable to accept his fate, although he wouldn't be able to tell when darkness mercilessly consumes his vision and empty static envelopes his hearing.

He has faith in them. They will move forward from this.

As for himself… Upon distantly feeling the touch of lips against his forehead, Rean feels his light smile turn into a relieved grin. Blind and deaf to all the ensuing cries, his eyelids flutter closed, marking a new beginning for his beloved family known as Class VII.

 

*Chapter 62 - Slipping Between My Fingers

Crow doesn’t know what he’s feeling when Rean’s hand slips from his.

It reminds him so much of when he once sat beside his grandfather’s deathbed. Of when he once clutched an old hand so tightly, believing if he held tight enough, then the other wouldn’t leave. 

It’s strange to have that feeling echo hollowly at him again. 

That is it. 

Rean is dead. 

An ugly sound is bubbling up his throat, mirroring the sobs he could hear from around him. 

His vision blurs as tears surface.

Rean is—

“Spare me the sentimental drivel!” screamed Cayenne from the distance, holding the prince at knifepoint. 

The sound grates on his ears.

“Damn it all!” Cayenne keeps whining, keeps piercing through the static in Crow’s ears. “Why must I be surrounded by nothing but disappointments?! And that goes for you, too, Azure Chevalier, witch, and your useless society!”

He stands up, face unreadable to all his classmates.

“I gave you my favor, and THIS is how you choose to repay me? By standing in the way of my ambition?!”

He takes an eerie step forward. Vaguely, he can hear his classmates call out his name in confusion.

They're not loud enough to block out Cayenne's annoying yammering.

“I should never have wasted my time on you from a fallen country to begin with!”

He pulls out his gun.

“Crow!”  

They're still too distant.

They can’t stop the calm emptiness engulfing his mind.

They can’t stop the fury tugging at the trigger of his gun.

He aims.

His heart is steady. His vision is too clear.

“Wha— What are you doing?!” The bastard stammers. “Don't you know what will happen if you—”

Furious crimson eyes glare back at the man, stunning him into silence.

Crow growls.

“Go to hell.”

 

— BANG —

 

Shot dead center in the head.

His gun falls to the ground.

“Ah, it appears I'm too late.”

He's too slow to process the rushing footsteps from behind him, a sword poised to stab him from behind.

He senses it before he sees it. How Vita covers him from behind and blocks the sword with her staff. Being less proficient with close combat, she can't avoid the way the sword disengages from her weapon and carves a trail of blood up her arm.

He doesn't waste another second to switch places with her and slam into the blade with his double saber.

The attacker is wise to leap back.

“Rufus?!” Jusis exclaims. “What are you doing?!”

“Here to avenge the late Duke Cayenne?” Vita sneers, casting a healing spell on her gashed arm. “I didn't think you cared that much for the world's greatest shit stain.”

“Please,” Rufus shows his damned perfect smile at them. “I know you think lowly of me, but even I’m offended to be associated with such filth.”

“Then what's your aim?”

Crow twitches, sensing another presence arrive and jump down next to Cayenne’s corpse. It's Altina.

“Target has already been eliminated, unable to capture. Awaiting further orders.” She glances over to the direction of Class VII, and her eyes widen just a little slightly.

What even is her deal—

“Take his body.”

A new voice booms through the room. With it, an intense pressure forces itself down against everyone, choking out the air out of everyone's lungs. 

For Crow, it only makes fire erupt from his veins.

Wide-eyed, he turns with the rest of the class to watch Giliath Osborne walk into the room with the Icy Maiden and Scarecrow trailing behind him.

“Man, you really want a little girl like her to do the dirty work?” Lechter marches toward Altina with his hands crossed behind his head. “Nah, I got it.”

It's barely noticeable how he freezes in his step when he glances at Class VII’s fallen member. Crow puts no thought into it when Osborne heads straight for them. No thought when his classmates part to make way for the chancellor, as if being pushed away by the sheer intimidation radiating off of the man.

No thought when the bastard kneels down by Rean’s side.

First, his home. Then, his only family. Now, his precious friend. This guy just loved to take things away from him.

It snaps something inside of him.

“Get the fuck away from him!” Crow yells, ready to swing his blade, but is impeded by Rufus.

This other bastard has the gall to smirk at him, his tone screaming the arrogance of knowing more than they do.

“Now, now. Don’t you believe that a father has every right to take care of his own flesh and blood?”

“...What?”

Blank. 

Crow's mind skids to a screeching halt.

And reboots itself as the piece clicks in faster than he would've ever expected.

It makes sense. 

Rean and Osborne couldn't be any more different. Rean has too much of a bleeding heart to actually follow through with Osborne's harsh policies. 

He figured out the only reason Rean would willingly work for the guy is if he had a debt to owe, else he could’ve just veered off on his own until he could accomplish his goal.

It makes too much sense.

And it… It doesn't really matter. He had even joked about it a month ago, so he's not really bothered by the truth that Rean is Osborne's biological son.

After everything they went through together, after everything Rean has done for him, such a truth is negligible.

No.

What bothers him the most is the nonchalant smirk that has no business on the so-called father whose son just died. 

“You're acting like everything's going according to plan,” he grits out.

He could laugh. Really. Of course Rean, who has a bleeding heart and would die for anyone who has his loyalty, would be stuck with an absolute monster for a parent. Would end up as just a mere tool to be used.

It reignites his past hatred for the man and sparks a damn wildfire. His teeth gnash against each other and his voice billows.

“Are you telling me that you planned this— You planned Rean’s— your own son’s death!? I'LL KILL YOU!”

The bastard is still smirking.

“Go ahead and try.”

Blood flies from his weapon as he lunges forward and swings his blade toward the bastard's neck—

The sound of steel clashing echoes through the room. In front of him, his double saber is being impeded by a greatsword and a spear.

“Crow, stop,” Laura begs as he keeps pushing forward, relentlessly. 

Especially when the bastard keeps yapping.

"If he had stuck with the plan, then a certain terrorist leader would have taken his shot at a certain prime opportunity,” Osborne snorts, as if his life is in no imminent danger. And it reminds Crow that the bastard can't even die. That killing him is pointless. “If he had stuck with the plan, then he wouldn’t have died for you today.”

“Don't act like this is all his fault!”

“Of course not. This is all his choice, and this is the consequence.”

The bastard reaches toward his son, holds Rean from behind his head and his knees, and picks him up.

All Crow can see is crimson red.

 

[Osborne POV]

Every day, Giliath Osborne walked a delicate tightrope. Each day, he was haunted by Ishmelga’s taunting, by the whispers for destruction, control, war, and despair.

On good days, he could drown out the voice without a problem. It was easy to ignore the calls for destruction when the people of Erebonia reminded him that they were worth fighting for. It was easy to ignore when he remembered he had a son who was struggling to fight for his own future.

On bad days…

It felt like being swallowed by a tornado of flames. Like his skin was melting away, his sanity crumbling away to ashes. 

His will was not indomitable. Even if he was the reincarnation of Dreichels, he was still human. 

A human who could break.

The sight of his son's corpse is enough for him to lose his balance. Enough for him to question what even was the point of anything and everything.

What was the point in fighting when he couldn’t even keep his own damn son safe?

Even though he could regain his balance, he couldn’t help but stare into the abyss past the tightrope. He was fated to drown in eternal darkness. 

It was so tempting to meet his fate early.

But…

“Then get your hands off of him!” Armbrust yelled, still struggling to break past his classmates. “You don't even care! What right do you have?! To take him away from us?!”

It was a curious sight, how Laura S. Arseid and Gaius Worzel stood against Armbrust, while Fie Claussell and Machias Regnitz looked ready to support the former terrorist. To the side, Jusis Albarea stood, contemplative and neutral, focus split between the argument of his friends and the appearance of his older brother. Meanwhile, Emma Millstein was trying to help the teary-eyed Alisa Reinford and Elliot Craig off the floor, the latter begging for everything to stop 

Rean had truly gained a wonderful set of friends. 

This was a future worth fighting for.

"Crow, please," Worzel cautiously said. "Rean wouldn't want this."

"He didn't want to die either!" Armbrust shouted, veins popping with pure, unadulterated fury. Still, he was clearly holding himself back to not hurt his friends. "If there's one thing I know, he'd want to stay with us! Let me fight for his place here!"

"Crow. Think about what will result from your actions." Arseid's voice was as steady and firm as ever, but her lips were trembling, accented by the tears rolling down the side of her cheeks. "We can't lose you too…"

A beat of silence.

Slowly, the double saber lowered, pointing down at the floor before it was suddenly dropped. The sound of the metal clanking against the floor echoed hollowly throughout the room, just before Armbrust released a scream so heartrending that it could pierce through Gehenna.

It looked like Rean had truly found a wonderful partner as well.

 

What a shame it was, that Giliath had to use him.

 

At the simple raise of his hand, Claire stepped forward. 

"Crow Armbrust, you're under arrest for being the suspected leader of the ILF, responsible for the destruction of key infrastructure, the attacks in Nord, Heimdallr, Garrelia Fortress and Roer, the attempted kidnapping of Princess Alfin, and the assassination plot of Chancellor Osborne. Turn yourself in peacefully."

"Wait, no!"

"He's not…"

Armbrust shook his head, raising his hands as a sign of surrender. "Don't even bother defending me. It's impossible."

As Claire approached him, handcuffs swinging in her hands, Armbrust rolled his eyes and held his wrists out together. Before she could cuff him, however, Millium jumped between them and grabbed Claire's arm.

Never before had Giliath seen the child so full of emotion besides excitement. Instead of vibrating with energy, every muscle in her body twitched in shock; she could barely hold herself up. The grin that had been so permanent on her face since her beginning of existence appeared so… weak.

"Gramps, Claire… Can't we let him go just this once..? He— While he did all that bad stuff, he also did try to disband the ILF and he h— helped fight the Noble Alliance!" She argued, scrunching up her face as tears welled up again. "Surely that means we don't have to be so harsh on him..?"

Her grip on the older Ironblood slipped and she would've fallen if Claire hadn't caught her. From then, Millium buried her face in Claire's chest and pleaded, "Right..?"

Hesitant, Claire looked between the shocked expression on Armbrust's face and the girl crippled against her. Deciding to prioritize Millium's feelings, she slowly wrapped her arms around the girl before Rufus walked past her and grabbed the handcuffs.

"There's no need to worry," Rufus smirked, mercilessly cuffing the ex-terrorist without wasting another second. "Perhaps his heroic actions of saving the crown prince and taking down the enemy commander will tip the scales for him."

"What..?" Armbrust said, breathless. Likewise, a wave of confusion washed over the rest of the class.

Giliath turned away from everyone and began walking toward the exit, unbothered by whatever reactions would come. Sparing another glance at the peaceful expression on his dead son, he let a single tear escape from his right eye.

His voice, however, still unwavering as he continued to bring down his blood and iron fist.

"Indeed, this is only the beginning. From here on out, Erebonia will face many great obstacles and wars to ensure its success in the future. I'm thinking we would need a capable hero to rise up to the challenges ahead, right?"

"You can't seriously—"

"You heartless bastard—"

"It's either this, lifelong imprisonment, or execution. Though, if you truly cared about my son, I'm sure I know which decision you will pick."

Each and every footstep of his and the Ironbloods clapped like thunder, yet he was deaf to it all. The shrieks, the shock; the struggles, the strife… Nothing in the world mattered at this very second except the lifelessness seeping from the body in his arms. 

No, Crow Armbrust. Giliath Osborne did care. 

He would never accept a plan that would result in the death of his son. 

 

Never.

 

…Even if he had to make another deal with the devil.

 

Chapter 63 - I'll Remember Y—

[Scene 1 - Lost Pieces]

• Elise, Alfin, Patrick, Towa and the rest of the upperclassmen reunite with them and asks where Rean (and Crow and Millium) is. She’s being casual about it but then sadness arrives again. Before they say anything, she can feel dread pulling down her chest.
• When the truth is revealed, she’s crushed and she falls.

 

[Scene 2 - Fake Hero]

Later, Osborne strikes a deal with Crow.

“You have two options, Armbrust. Either you go to prison or you work for me.” 

"Putting a terrorist who wants to kill you in charge of National Security? I gotta say, I've overestimated your intelligence."

"Indeed, when you say it like that, I sound like a fool. However…" Osborne smirks in a way that infuriates Crow. "It's a good thing that you aren't a terrorist, and I'm just putting the hero of the Civil War in a role he's suited for. As for the killing me part, you're still welcome to try."

"Is that a challenge?"

"Maybe. Maybe not. Far be it from me to tell you what to do, you should be in control of your decisions."

"You really want me to kill you, huh?" Crow hisses through gritted teeth. Nearly every fiber of his being is telling him to refuse, but his heart…

He had promised Rean that he would graduate. That would never happen if he chose to go to prison, presumably for life. 

The Azure Chevalier becomes a national hero. 

Rufus smirks at him. "It will be a pleasure working with you, Azure Chevalier."

 

[Scene 3 - Farewell]

• A few days pass. Funeral at Heimdallr Cemetery
• Teo is pissed that Osborne isn't even there for his son's funeral. 
• Crow almost doesn’t attend, but his friends drag him out from his room and force him to attend and properly grieve. 
• Altina watches the funeral briefly for a few minutes before she leaves.
• Rean is buried with the origami horses that the class made for him throughout their time together. 
• They say their goodbyes. They all cry. 

Alisa is one of the first to leave the funeral, telling everyone she needs alone time. Everyone understands, leaving to go their separate ways and have time for themselves.

She sits on a bench in the plaza, not thinking about much as she watches kids run and play, people eat ice cream together, and people throw coins in the fountain for wishes. 

Time passes too fast. The sun finally fades, replaced by thunder clouds. It pours and the weather finally reflects how she feels. 

Then, she stops feeling the rain fall onto her, despite how she can still hear the continuous splash of water against the ground. She looks up to see that there’s an umbrella being held over her. She looks to her side, not aware that someone had taken a seat next to her.

She does a double take when she sees her not-father sitting beside her.

“Professor Lughman?!” she blurts out. She wants to be angry at him, what with the connection to her father and especially since she now knows that he’s the reason Rean started to act weird during their Nord Highlands field study. But, she just feels overwhelming sadness and confusion.

The man flashes her a pleasant smile.

Underneath it is endless malice.

“Call me Black Alberich.”

• Alberich already knows from watching Rean that a child will do anything to be with their father. He wants to take advantage of this. 

 

[Scene 4 - Mission]

Lechter was sitting on the edge of Osborne’s desk, leaning back and watching a flock of birds take flight through the window. 

“Armbrust was wrong.”

All the accusations against Osborne, saying he didn’t love his son were all false. Osborne was good at hiding it from nearly everyone. Lechter, however, was able to pick up some of the old man’s quirks during his time working for him.

While a normal person might shake and cry a dance and song of grief, Osborne could remain still and silent. Too still. Too silent. He was good at hiding, but he couldn’t hide how he tried too hard to remain indomitable.

“You loved Rean with all your heart, more than you could ever love any of us,” Lechter said, not bothering to take another glance at the so-called Blood and Iron Chancellor. “Remember the promise we made?”

He closed his eyes.

“That if you were to stray from your path, then I would cut you down?”

A dangerous promise. He wouldn’t even know where to begin plotting Osborne’s downfall, what with everything he now knew about the man.

“You could say I’m concerned that this turn of events might make you stray.”

Osborne barked out a laugh. It was hollow. Only a robot wouldn’t be able to tell otherwise.

“Lechter, you figured out the Ashen Saint’s identity, right?”

Leave it to Osborne to steer the conversation into the territory of unpredictability. Really, he could never get into this guy’s head.

“Yeah..?”

It was Rean. And now that Rean was dead, the Ashen Saint was effectively dead too, unless they made Altina continue the mantle.

“I need you to perish the thought.” 

Osborne leaned to the side of his chair, picking up a sword and placing it on his desk. Lechter’s eyes widened in confusion.

It was Rean’s tachi.

“Your next mission is to give this to the Ashen Saint when you next see him. Tell him that this is the only type of sword he's allowed to use from now on.”

For all that Lechter could boast about his genius, it felt like no amount of intuition or deduction could lead him to anything that made sense. Has the old man lost it already?

“I don’t understand—”

“That's an order.” Osborne’s voice was absolute. His steel eyes staring ahead into nothing, a sign that he was plotting out the future. “And, if you can manage, I want you to dig up all the information you can on his true identity.”

Osborne stood up from his desk and walked toward the doors. A quiet slam left Lechter alone in the room, alone with a torrent of questions. 

He picked up the blade, unsheathing it and watching the metal reflect the rays of sunlight filtering through the windows.

He sighed.

“Things never get boring around your dearest dad, huh?”

 

[Scene 5 - Gamble]

“And here I thought you had crumbled,” Ishmelga snarled, rising from his shadow. “But it appears that you are still trying to do everything to save that pathetic son of yours. You already figured out what I plan to do when we revive him and you’re trying to put forth plans to counter it.”

“Of course, having spent all this time together, I should think I would have a clue about what your plan is. Though I do believe the punishment to be too severe.” 

Ishmelga was too predictable. Never once had it been unpredictable back when Giliath was still Dreichels, what with its mind being dead set on power and conquering the world.

It had only been showing signs of unpredictability ever since Rean joined Class VII. 

After Lianne had taken custody of Rean, Ishmelga had ceased to tamper with the boy’s life. In Ishmelga’s eyes, Rean was simply an ant. He had a purpose, but wouldn’t be missed if he were to disappear. Ishmelga would’ve never spared the time to mess with Rean more than he already had.

But, while Rean’s connections with his newfound friends in school had offered him much positive growth…

They had become a poison for Ishmelga. 

“You believe the punishment is too severe? The best punishments are the ones that ensure the offender won’t make the same mistake twice. As the one who keeps flooding our link with these disgustingly positive emotions… As the one who went along with the snakes’ plans to awaken the Great One without it being at full strength, I could think of no better punishment.”

If it had been any other Awakener who died, like Crow Armbrust, the most they would do would wipe their memories so they could serve as a mindless puppet until the Rivalries. Like he said, Ishmelga spared no time for those who were ants to him. And it would be fine, because at least he would’ve had friends who could remember and save him.

However, since Ishmelga now deemed Rean a threat due to his bonds and their connection, it was no doubt that Ishmelga planned to…

“I will place a curse on your pathetic son, the same curse that befell Earthen Holy Beast. All traces of his existence will disappear. His name will be wiped from all records and no one will remember who ‘Rean Schwarzer’ is, not even you, not even himself. If it was his bonds that caused the plan to go astray, then those bonds must be erased to ensure My future success.”

It was a fate worse than death.

Giliath had the option to refuse, but then they wouldn’t revive his son.

And Giliath Osborne was a selfish man who wanted his son to live. 

He was also hopeful. With a curse as abstract and undefined as this, there might be a loophole to save Rean from this curse. There might be a way to remember him, even when his existence is erased. 

This was going to be a huge gamble. It was either accept his son’s death or possibly tarnish his memory forever. He had already placed his bets on what he thought would work. Only time would tell if they pay off. 

Oh Kasia, help him. 

• When they dig up Rean’s body to replace it with a fake, Osborne places Rean’s locket with the doll. 
• Osborne returns to the cemetery and pays the graveyard security guy to not work for the night and next morning.
• He sits by Rean's grave and waits under the rain.
• What a coincidence that he was buried next to Kasia. Though perhaps it was his friend's doing if Rean had revealed to them about his birth mother.
• He prays.

 

[Scene 6 - Forgotten]

It’s the night after the funeral. Many go to bed with tears in their eyes and led in their hearts. The last thoughts of many are a whirlwind of what they could’ve done differently that day to lead to a better outcome. Many go to sleep wondering how the heck they’re going to keep living on without their dear friend or family in their lives.

When Crow goes to sleep, he clutches a fifty mira coin in his left hand. 

When he wakes up, he has no memory of why his face is stained with tears.

 

—-

 

When Osborne wakes up, his back is stiff. He opens his eyes to find himself sitting in the middle of the cemetery. His clothes are drenched in the rain from last night, and mud is clinging to where his body touches the ground.

In front of him is a grave with no name.

He looks around and sees nothing of importance until he realizes that the grave beside the nameless headstone is Kasia’s.

Ishmelga is cackling in the background, and that gives him the clue that he needs.

He remembers now that he made another deal with Ishmelga.

It was to… erase all memory of their existence in exchange for their life.

He remembers the details, but not the who. The fact that he had camped in front of this grave must have been his way of remembering the who.

The way this curse works is curious though. Not only has it erased his memory of the who, it also has the power to make the name of the headstone unreadable, even though it's clearly new.

There's a shovel nearby. He picks it up.

He digs up the grave.

The fake corpse he finds in the coffin is unfamiliar to him, but… he looks nearly identical to Kasia.

Giliath has no memory of having a child, raising one, or loving one. But there can be no mistake. 

This is his son.

His only child.

It fills him with immense rage that he's completely forgotten the birth of his son and the death of his son, but that just goes to show how powerful this curse is.

Then, what is he to do now? 

It's only through deduction, not memory, that he knows this is his son. There's no way of knowing anything else about him without any clues.

Without any more clues, this child might as well still be a stranger to him.

He lets out a deep sigh.

After burying the coffin, Giliath moves to kneel in front of Kasia's grave.

He doesn't speak, knowing that Ishmelga is listening. Still, his voice is loud in his head. 

“Please forgive me, Kasia, for forgetting our son.” 

The only response he gets is the sound of raindrops falling from a nearby tree and hitting the grave, making two different sounds depending on whether they hit the grave or the empty flower vase set on top of it.

They drip.

And drop. 

Drip.

So rhythmically. 

 

In a pattern.

 

Drip. Drop. Drip.

It reminds him of…

Drop. Drip.

 

It repeats.

 

His eyes widen. It's inconceivable. But… He moves his hand to tap against the grave, following its pattern.

Drip. Drop. Drip.

R.

Drip.

E.

Drip. Drop.

A.

Drop. Drip.

N.

R-e-a-n

Even his mind can’t process the meaning behind this pattern. But… his gut tells him that this is right. That this is what is missing.

Oh Kasia. Thank you for your gift. 

*Chapter 64 - Path of Oblivion

 

"...Mnnh."

His bleary eyes were struggling to focus on the images in front of him, only to realize that the effort was futile. There wasn't anything he could see even though he was sure that his eyes were blinking open.

Darkness. There was simply darkness everywhere, as if the sun had been snuffed out.

...Where was he?

Such a question was pointless, nothing in this void could answer him.

The better question was where was he supposed to be?

…The Infernal Castle. Right. He… Died.

Looking down, he could see his hands instinctively landing on his chest.

No pain. No heat. No heaviness. No beat.

Nothing.

He sharply inhaled.

 

If nothing else, he’d remember that he has to keep moving forward, no matter how painful it is. He can trust Dad and Class VII to—

 ̵ ̶ ̸ ̸ ̷ ̴ ̵ ̴ ̷̨̡̦̗̣̪̫̻̟̗̗̈́̍͗̀̊̕ ̴̠͌̎ ̶̠̗̭̗̻́͌ ̴̮̑͠ S H A̷ ̷T̶ ̴T̴ E R ̸̡̛͚̖͙̣̘̪̽ ̴̳̩̖̲͉͕͈͙̗͊͗̀͋̿̐ͅ ̶̶̳̦͚͑̌͑͂  ̴̴ ̴ ̷ ̵ ̸

The high-pitched cry of broken glass screamed inside his head.

 

Who was he talking about?

They were important. The name still brought a sense of warmth. Just like Dad.

He could still remember Dad—

 ̵ ̶ ̸ ̸ ̷ ̴ ̵ ̴ ̷̨̡̦̗̣̪̫̻̟̗̗̈́̍͗̀̊̕ ̴̠͌̎ ̶̠̗̭̗̻́͌ ̴̮̑͠ S H̸ ̵A̸̷̷ ̷̷̴T̷̶̶ ̴T E R ̸̡̛͚̖͙̣̘̪̽ ̴̳̩̖̲͉͕͈͙̗͊͗̀͋̿̐ͅ ̶̶̳̦͚͑̌͑͂  ̴̴ ̴ ̷ ̵ ̸

He could still remember Chancellor Osborne, who he couldn’t disobey.

What else..?

He's panting, on his knees, as he senses a presence in front of him. It sends chills through him and he recognizes the swelling of hatred within him. He remembers this wretched thing, he remembers how much he hates Ishmel— 

 ̵ ̶ ̸ ̸ ̷ ̴ ̵ ̴ ̷̨̡̦̗̣̪̫̻̟̗̗̈́̍͗̀̊̕ ̴̠͌̎ ̶̠̗̭̗̻́͌ ̴̮̑͠ S H A̶̢̛̛̭̗̳̙̬̳͚͐̀͠ ̷̢͎͈̲̩͑̆̿̇́̎̈́̽͝T̶̡̨͍̞̯͔̪̪͇͎̪͂̒ T ̸E̷ ̶R̸ ̸̡̛͚̖͙̣̘̪̽ ̴̳̩̖̲͉͕͈͙̗͊͗̀͋̿̐ͅ ̶̶̳̦͚͑̌͑͂  ̴̴ ̴ ̷ ̵ ̸

“You will address me as Lord Ishmelga,” the thing’s voice booms through his fuzzy, empty head, giving him a headache. 

Still, he refuses. He remembers the burning hatred for this— 

 ̵ ̶ ̸ ̸ ̷ ̴ ̵ ̴ ̷̨̡̦̗̣̪̫̻̟̗̗̈́̍͗̀̊̕ ̴̠͌̎ ̶̠̗̭̗̻́͌ ̴̮̑͠ S H̶ ̷A̵̶̵̶̴̷̶̸̷̸̸̷̷̸̴̷̢̛̛̭̗̳̙̬̳͚͐̀͠ ̶̷̶̸̸̸̴̵̴̶̸̷̸̸̸̷̴̢͎͈̲̩͑̆̿̇́̎̈́̽͝T̸̶̸̴̶̷̴̷̷̸̴̶̴̶̵̷̡̨͍̞̯͔̪̪͇͎̪͂̒ T ̸̸̶̣͉̭͂̑͠ͅĘ̶̷̵̫̯̯̽̍́̑̅ ̸̶̶̛̰̳͎͖̾͑R̷̸̴̸̴̵̷̸̷̸̷̵̸̶̡̛̦̩̝̳̞͕̥̹̯͚͕̳̖̣͈͍͕̺̟͙̹̣̣̘͕̝͍̪͚̩̭̍̈́̀̏̀͌̑̽̑̐̆̄͌͗̈́̐͆̊́̓̊̋̕͘͝͝ͅ ̴̳̩̖̲͉͕͈͙̗͊͗̀͋̿̐ͅ ̶̶̳̦͚͑̌͑͂  ̴̴ ̴ ̷ ̵ ̸

“N- No..!” he grits out, feeling himself fall deeper and deeper into the void, heaviness and pain wracking through his body.

It hurts.

It hurts so much.

 ̵ ̶ ̸ ̸ ̷ ̴ ̵ ̴ ̷̨̡̦̗̣̪̫̻̟̗̗̈́̍͗̀̊̕ ̴̠͌̎ ̶̠̗̭̗̻́͌ ̴̮̑͠ S H̸ ̵A̸̷̷ ̷̷̴T̷̶̶ ̴T ̸̸̶̣͉̭͂̑͠ͅĘ̶̷̵̫̯̯̽̍́̑̅ ̸̶̶̛̰̳͎͖̾͑R̷̸̴̸̴̵̷̸̷̸̷̵̸̶̡̛̦̩̝̳̞͕̥̹̯͚͕̳̖̣͈͍͕̺̟͙̹̣̣̘͕̝͍̪͚̩̭̍̈́̀̏̀͌̑̽̑̐̆̄͌͗̈́̐͆̊́̓̊̋̕͘͝͝ͅ ̸̡̛͚̖͙̣̘̪̽ ̴̳̩̖̲͉͕͈͙̗͊͗̀͋̿̐ͅ ̶̶̳̦͚͑̌͑͂  ̴̴ ̴ ̷ ̵ ̸

“You will submit to me.”

It shouldn’t have been possible, but he feels his heart racing in fear. The idea of who this Ishmelga was is fading, but his instincts scream at him to not trust it— not again— 

Never again—

 ̵ ̶ ̸ ̸ ̷ ̴ ̵ ̴ ̷̨̡̦̗̣̪̫̻̟̗̗̈́̍͗̀̊̕ ̴̠͌̎ ̶̠̗̭̗̻́͌ ̴̮̑͠ S H A̶̢̛̛̭̗̳̙̬̳͚͐̀͠ ̷̢͎͈̲̩͑̆̿̇́̎̈́̽͝T̶̡̨͍̞̯͔̪̪͇͎̪͂̒ T ̸E̷ ̶R̸ ̸̡̛͚̖͙̣̘̪̽ ̴̳̩̖̲͉͕͈͙̗͊͗̀͋̿̐ͅ ̶̶̳̦͚͑̌͑͂  ̴̴ ̴ ̷ ̵ ̸

“Obey me.”

No— I hate you! I hate you— I HATE YOU—

 ̵ ̶ ̸ ̸ ̷ ̴ ̵ ̴ ̷̨̡̦̗̣̪̫̻̟̗̗̈́̍͗̀̊̕ ̴̠͌̎ ̶̠̗̭̗̻́͌ ̴̮̑͠ S H̶ ̷A̵̶̵̶̴̷̶̸̷̸̸̷̷̸̴̷̢̛̛̭̗̳̙̬̳͚͐̀͠ ̶̷̶̸̸̸̴̵̴̶̸̷̸̸̸̷̴̢͎͈̲̩͑̆̿̇́̎̈́̽͝T̸̶̸̴̶̷̴̷̷̸̴̶̴̶̵̷̡̨͍̞̯͔̪̪͇͎̪͂̒ T ̸̸̶̣͉̭͂̑͠ͅĘ̶̷̵̫̯̯̽̍́̑̅ ̸̶̶̛̰̳͎͖̾͑R̷̸̴̸̴̵̷̸̷̸̷̵̸̶̡̛̦̩̝̳̞͕̥̹̯͚͕̳̖̣͈͍͕̺̟͙̹̣̣̘͕̝͍̪͚̩̭̍̈́̀̏̀͌̑̽̑̐̆̄͌͗̈́̐͆̊́̓̊̋̕͘͝͝ͅ ̴̳̩̖̲͉͕͈͙̗͊͗̀͋̿̐ͅ ̶̶̳̦͚͑̌͑͂  ̴̴ ̴ ̷ ̵ ̸

“How about this, then? In return for acknowledging me, I will tell your name. Aren’t you curious to know why you’re here?”

Shut up— 

He knows who he is. He is Rean S—

 ̵ ̶ ̸ ̸ ̷ ̴ ̵ ̴ ̷̨̡̦̗̣̪̫̻̟̗̗̈́̍͗̀̊̕ ̴̠͌̎ ̶̠̗̭̗̻́͌ ̴̮̑͠ S H̸ ̵A̸̷̷ ̷̷̴T̷̶̶ ̴T ̸̸̶̣͉̭͂̑͠ͅĘ̶̷̵̫̯̯̽̍́̑̅ ̸̶̶̛̰̳͎͖̾͑R̷̸̴̸̴̵̷̸̷̸̷̵̸̶̡̛̦̩̝̳̞͕̥̹̯͚͕̳̖̣͈͍͕̺̟͙̹̣̣̘͕̝͍̪͚̩̭̍̈́̀̏̀͌̑̽̑̐̆̄͌͗̈́̐͆̊́̓̊̋̕͘͝͝ͅ ̸̡̛͚̖͙̣̘̪̽ ̴̳̩̖̲͉͕͈͙̗͊͗̀͋̿̐ͅ ̶̶̳̦͚͑̌͑͂  ̴̴ ̴ ̷ ̵ ̸

He howls in pain, nails digging into his skull as if to keep his memories contained in his head.

Rean.

Rean!

Rean—

 ̵ ̶ ̸ ̸ ̷ ̴ ̵ ̴ ̷̨̡̦̗̣̪̫̻̟̗̗̈́̍͗̀̊̕ ̴̠͌̎ ̶̠̗̭̗̻́͌ ̴̮̑͠ S H A̶̢̛̛̭̗̳̙̬̳͚͐̀͠ ̷̢͎͈̲̩͑̆̿̇́̎̈́̽͝T̶̡̨͍̞̯͔̪̪͇͎̪͂̒ T ̸E̷ ̶R̸ ̸̡̛͚̖͙̣̘̪̽ ̴̳̩̖̲͉͕͈͙̗͊͗̀͋̿̐ͅ ̶̶̳̦͚͑̌͑͂  ̴̴ ̴ ̷ ̵ ̸

The name disappears from the tip of his tongue.

His name… His past... His identity— 

Where did it all go?

When had he lost them?

Surely he hadn't been without such things this whole time? Surely this empty feeling crushing his chest hadn't been there this whole time?

He couldn't have lived long in this state for that long, right?

 ̵ ̶ ̸ ̸ ̷ ̴ ̵ ̴ ̷̨̡̦̗̣̪̫̻̟̗̗̈́̍͗̀̊̕ ̴̠͌̎ ̶̠̗̭̗̻́͌ ̴̮̑͠ S H̶ ̷A̵̶̵̶̴̷̶̸̷̸̸̷̷̸̴̷̢̛̛̭̗̳̙̬̳͚͐̀͠ ̶̷̶̸̸̸̴̵̴̶̸̷̸̸̸̷̴̢͎͈̲̩͑̆̿̇́̎̈́̽͝T̸̶̸̴̶̷̴̷̷̸̴̶̴̶̵̷̡̨͍̞̯͔̪̪͇͎̪͂̒ T ̸̸̶̣͉̭͂̑͠ͅĘ̶̷̵̫̯̯̽̍́̑̅ ̸̶̶̛̰̳͎͖̾͑R̷̸̴̸̴̵̷̸̷̸̷̵̸̶̡̛̦̩̝̳̞͕̥̹̯͚͕̳̖̣͈͍͕̺̟͙̹̣̣̘͕̝͍̪͚̩̭̍̈́̀̏̀͌̑̽̑̐̆̄͌͗̈́̐͆̊́̓̊̋̕͘͝͝ͅ ̴̳̩̖̲͉͕͈͙̗͊͗̀͋̿̐ͅ ̶̶̳̦͚͑̌͑͂  ̴̴ ̴ ̷ ̵ ̸

"Well? Don't you want to know who you are?"

He does. He wants to know. He's so empty and lost right now. He needs his memories to fill the void.

But, this hatred. It could not end. It should not end. Because Ishmelga is the one destroying his precious memories—

 ̵ ̶ ̸ ̸ ̷ ̴ ̵ ̴ ̷̨̡̦̗̣̪̫̻̟̗̗̈́̍͗̀̊̕ ̴̠͌̎ ̶̠̗̭̗̻́͌ ̴̮̑͠ S H̸ ̵A̸̷̷ ̷̷̴T̷̶̶ ̴T ̸̸̶̣͉̭͂̑͠ͅĘ̶̷̵̫̯̯̽̍́̑̅ ̸̶̶̛̰̳͎͖̾͑R̷̸̴̸̴̵̷̸̷̸̷̵̸̶̡̛̦̩̝̳̞͕̥̹̯͚͕̳̖̣͈͍͕̺̟͙̹̣̣̘͕̝͍̪͚̩̭̍̈́̀̏̀͌̑̽̑̐̆̄͌͗̈́̐͆̊́̓̊̋̕͘͝͝ͅ ̸̡̛͚̖͙̣̘̪̽ ̴̳̩̖̲͉͕͈͙̗͊͗̀͋̿̐ͅ ̶̶̳̦͚͑̌͑͂  ̴̴ ̴ ̷ ̵ ̸

“L- Lord…” His voice trembles and he can't even recognise the sound. He doesn't know which is worse, the pain of bells screeching in his head or the weight crashing down on his heart when he finally spits out, “...Ishmelga.”

Somehow, just by saying that, the pain in his head subsides. Just a little.

“See, that wasn’t hard, now was it? You even feel a bit better, I can tell. You feel better whenever you obey me.”

Doubts linger in his head. If that's the case, then why is his heart still bursting with emotions like wrongness—

 

 ̵ ̶ ̸ ̸ ̷ ̴ ̵ ̴ ̷̨̡̦̗̣̪̫̻̟̗̗̈́̍͗̀̊̕ ̴̠͌̎ ̶̠̗̭̗̻́͌ ̴̮̑͠ S̸̩͕̾͒́̀ ̵̩͚̪̜̞̳̤̙́̾̔̊͊̓̀͗̓H̵̦̼̉͋̈́ͅ ̶͍͉̥̯͇̮͑̆͋̽̊́̅̈́͜A̸̷̷ ̷̷̴T̷̶̶ ̴T ̸̸̶̣͉̭͂̑͠ͅĘ̶̷̵̫̯̯̽̍́̑̅ ̸̶̶̛̰̳͎͖̾͑R̷̸̴̸̴̵̷̸̷̸̷̵̸̶̡̛̦̩̝̳̞͕̥̹̯͚͕̳̖̣͈͍͕̺̟͙̹̣̣̘͕̝͍̪͚̩̭̍̈́̀̏̀͌̑̽̑̐̆̄͌͗̈́̐͆̊́̓̊̋̕͘͝͝ͅ ̸̡̛͚̖͙̣̘̪̽ ̴̳̩̖̲͉͕͈͙̗͊͗̀͋̿̐ͅ ̶̶̳̦͚͑̌͑͂  ̴̴ ̴ ̷ ̵ ̸

 

Like sadness

"You'll always be our friend—"

 

 ̵ ̶ ̸ ̸ ̷ ̴ ̵ ̴ ̷̨̡̦̗̣̪̫̻̟̗̗̈́̍͗̀̊̕ ̴̠͌̎ ̶̠̗̭̗̻́͌ ̴̮̑͠ S H̸ ̵A̸̷̷ ̷̷̴T̷̶̶ ̴T E R ̸̡̛͚̖͙̣̘̪̽ ̴̳̩̖̲͉͕͈͙̗͊͗̀͋̿̐ͅ ̶̶̳̦͚͑̌͑͂  ̴̴ ̴ ̷ ̵ ̸

 

Like longing

"Even now, I feel connected to them and I’m sure we both know that we’re all standing by each other’s side—”

 

 ̵ ̶ ̸ ̸ ̷ ̴ ̵ ̴ ̷̨̡̦̗̣̪̫̻̟̗̗̈́̍͗̀̊̕ ̴̠͌̎ ̶̠̗̭̗̻́͌ ̴̮̑͠ S H A̶̢̛̛̭̗̳̙̬̳͚͐̀͠ ̷̢͎͈̲̩͑̆̿̇́̎̈́̽͝T̶̡̨͍̞̯͔̪̪͇͎̪͂̒ T ̸E̷ ̶R̸ ̸̡̛͚̖͙̣̘̪̽ ̴̳̩̖̲͉͕͈͙̗͊͗̀͋̿̐ͅ ̶̶̳̦͚͑̌͑͂  ̴̴ ̴ ̷ ̵ ̸

 

Love

“No! I’m not laughing at you! It’s just… Wanting to see you smile for real… That’s how I started to get interested in you, too—”

 

 ̵ ̶ ̸ ̸ ̷ ̴ ̵ ̴ ̷̨̡̦̗̣̪̫̻̟̗̗̈́̍͗̀̊̕ ̴̠͌̎ ̶̠̗̭̗̻́͌ ̴̮̑͠ S̸̩͕̾͒́̀ ̵̩͚̪̜̞̳̤̙́̾̔̊͊̓̀͗̓H̵̦̼̉͋̈́ͅ ̶͍͉̥̯͇̮͑̆͋̽̊́̅̈́͜A̵̶̵̶̴̷̶̸̷̸̸̷̷̸̴̷̢̛̛̭̗̳̙̬̳͚͐̀͠ ̶̷̶̸̸̸̴̵̴̶̸̷̸̸̸̷̴̢͎͈̲̩͑̆̿̇́̎̈́̽͝T̸̶̸̴̶̷̴̷̷̸̴̶̴̶̵̷̡̨͍̞̯͔̪̪͇͎̪͂̒ T ̸̸̶̣͉̭͂̑͠ͅĘ̶̷̵̫̯̯̽̍́̑̅ ̸̶̶̛̰̳͎͖̾͑R̷̸̴̸̴̵̷̸̷̸̷̵̸̶̡̛̦̩̝̳̞͕̥̹̯͚͕̳̖̣͈͍͕̺̟͙̹̣̣̘͕̝͍̪͚̩̭̍̈́̀̏̀͌̑̽̑̐̆̄͌͗̈́̐͆̊́̓̊̋̕͘͝͝ͅ ̴̳̩̖̲͉͕͈͙̗͊͗̀͋̿̐ͅ ̶̶̳̦͚͑̌͑͂  ̴̴ ̴ ̷ ̵ ̸

 

And hatred

"I HATE MYSELF—"

 

S H A T T E R

 ̶̨͕͇̘͛ ̴̨̬̮̱̈́̓̓͑̈́̈́̃̐͘̕͜ ̶͚͙̘̘̬͑̈́̐̔̂̀ ̸̳͝ ̴͖̳̗͚̈́̾͜ͅ ̵̰̙̀̓ͅ ̷̠̲̅̋̈́̿̋́̿̈́ ̷̨͎̠͇̆͛̾͘ ̸̨͉̮̪̝͇͓̲̒͒̒͆̎̑͐̋̓ ̸̥͓̼͍̄̌̏̌̎̽͑ͅ ̷̘͋̎͘̚ ̴̼̙͕͕̝͇̞̝̒̽͛̓͆̄͊̒͝ ̵̟̀̕͘ ̴̣̭̞́̄ ̵̧͎̩̟͈̟͖͓̟̽ͅ ̵̡̥̙̖͖̳̮̩͔͑̿͂́́͘͜͝͠ ̸͖̹͈̥̟̪̮̹͊͌̆͑̀͋̃̓̎̓ ̶̻̥̓́̊̄̇̒͒̚ ̵͚̾̿̋̔̅̃̕͘ ̶̗̥͖̀͒̽̒̃́͆͌ ̷͙̲̽͊̓̒̎̃̉ ̷̢̧̞͓̖͉̤͗̐̄͊̃͛̌͌͘ ̷̛̣̱̼͊͒͂̌͋̇͘ ̸̱̠̞̥̘̮̈́ ̴̛̫̗̩̓͊͑͑̋͛̉͒̐ ̵͙̮̯͉̅̂̓̒̔̓̅̀̕͜͝ ̵͎̱̭̞͙̮̱͕̏́̒͗̇͗́ ̷̥̙͆̌́͜ͅ ̵̧̡̬̭̬̼͍͕̦̝̇̐́͗͗̕͝͝ ̸̼̻̎̂̋̋̍͜ ̶͈̾̽̅̈́ ̸̭̏͘ ̷̨̮̞̖̬͔̹̙̦̾

 

He's panting.

 

For a while or for a short time—he doesn't know; time is only an illusion here—there's silence. The voice from before is gone, leaving him alone to pick up his pieces.

 

Oh, who is he kidding? There are no pieces to pick up. No memories to relive. No feelings to grasp. No identity to believe in.

 

He is nothing.

 

That's why he's here, with no one else around and no one to even know of this place. Because no one needs him…

 

No one needs him.

 

It's lonely. 

 

So lonely. That's the only feeling he's able to cling onto as he realizes he will forever drift in this blank space as a meaningless existence… Does he even exist if there's no one else to perceive him?

 

"I'm sorry."

 

He apologizes again and again, not really knowing what for. It's just… He assumes that if he's condemned to an existence like this, then he must've done something wrong before, even if he only remembers doing nothing at all. Who else, besides sinners, are meant to live like this..?

 

"I'm sorry."

 

He drifts.

 

"I'm sorry."

 

He disappears—

 

"There you are." A familiar voice. A name pops up in his mind.

"Ishmelga," he cautiously greets back, stuck between wondering what's the point in talking and wanting this being to stay just so he won't be so alone.

Maybe a connection like this, with him, could manage to mean something for once.

"Do you still want to know who you are?"

Does he still? Oh, right, he vaguely remembers something like that from a timeless period ago.

"I have my assumptions."

He is nothing.

Something barely tangible tilts his chin up, causing him to instinctively hold his breath. He forgot he even had a form, a body. In contrast, something glides through his hair and pats his head, forcing a chilling calmness to settle over his mind. 

“Right. You are emptiness itself. Such a thing doesn't have a name. You are nothing, and no one else will ever want you because you can only offer nothing of value to them.”

He is emptiness. He is void. He will never be anything worthy. No one could ever care for him… These are the first thoughts that feel strongly familiar… so it must be right.

But then…

Despite weakness and exhaustion weighing down on every cell of his body, an indestructible instinct compels him to ask, “Then what’s the point in existing at all..?”

“For me.”

But no one could ever care for him, right? His eyebrows knit together in confusion. “But I offer nothing—”

“I am a God. I alone can defy logic and desire. I alone am the only being capable of accepting the essence of void itself. That's why I'm here for you, in this place no one else cares to know about.”

Unbelievable.

His throat feels dry and his fingers twitch at something, for something. "You would… accept me?"

“I would. Because I need you." If he had to choose any words that could break him, it would be those. "But, only if you would have me." 

"You..?"

"I myself am a universally despised concept like yourself. However, instead of emptiness, I am vile, corrupt… evil."

Evil. Ishmelga is evil. Right. That is also a familiar thought.

"Knowing that, would you still… accept me?”

Is it possible for an evil being to sound so vulnerable? To sound like… himself?

“I—” For a moment, he thinks he could hear a voice, a call for resistance, but it all fades into the static haze growing between his ears. So what, if this god is evil? Why would he care? Why resist the only one that would have him? 

Why deny the only being willing to distract him from the vast, aching emptiness within?

This God— His God will be his only salvation.

Lowering his head, he finally relents. “Yes. I… I accept you… Lord Ishmelga.”

The response earns him a dark, inharmonious chuckle. Glowing crimson lines suddenly appear in the darkness, giving form to the shadows in front of him. Soon enough, a multitude of blood-stained eyes open and stare delightfully back at him. 

It is an odd sight, but he has no fear for his God.

“Thank you, my Nameless One.”

It is here, when a formless essence within him grows.

His hands are lifted off the floor by a pair of shadowy hands, its crimons lines spreading over to his own pale skin and then blazing trails across his whole body. For once, finally, he can feel something. Sparks of power pump through his veins before a sudden pulse reverberates through his entire body.

 

THUMP

 

A mimicry of a real heart.

Soon, the hands move up, tracing up his arms, wrapping around his neck, choking him. Meanwhile, the rest of the shadow's body imprints itself into his chest, feeding him more power to fill his void. 

It hurts, as if his body is being forcefully broken down and transformed and modified into something he shouldn't be. And perhaps that's true, considering he is nothing and Lord Ishmelga is giving him something. This whole process… is against his nature, isn't it? That's why the pain is almost so unbearable that he wants to scream and cry and push the darkness away.

"It's okay… There's no need to struggle. I will be here with you."

Right. The pain is not as unbearable as the thought of drifting away meaninglessly forever in this void, alone.

Eventually, his eyes glaze over as his mind gets invaded by knowledge. Ishmelga's vision, Ishmelga's purpose for him, the backdrop of wars for Erebonia, the pawns who will also serve…

It's so much. Too much.

But he accepts it all.

His eyelids grow heavy, closing after watching the last of the red streaks transfer over to his body, the shadow then camouflaging back with the rest of the black in this space. Then, as if the shadow had been the only thing holding him up, he falls headfirst into the infinite abyss below. Or above. He no longer knows.

THUMP

A cruel laugh echoes through the void, and he believes it to be a sign of Lord Ishmelga’s approval. Thus, he does not struggle. He shall continue to follow his duty, even if it is simply to fall—

                        Fall

 

Fall                        

 ̵ ̶ ̸ ̸ ̷ ̴ ̵ ̴ ̷̨̡̦̗̣̪̫̻̟̗̗̈́̍͗̀̊̕ Fall̴̳̩̖̲͉͕͈͙̗͊͗̀͋̿̐ͅ   ̶̶̳̦͚͑̌͑͂  ̴̴ ̴ ̷ ̵ ̸

 ̴̴ ̴ ̷ -̵͕͙̱͖̮̫͉̮͆̐͂Into the in̸̛̹̗̲finite dă̵̳̬ṙ̴̨̮̗͚̉́̋̋͝͠k̴̩̋ǹ̸̨͈̜̣̦̻̍̾̈́ess ̸̧̬͚̀̓͐ ̵̬̹̞̹͍̹̔̾̓̍͛̍͜͝ ̷̲̓ ̵̦̈́ ̴̴ ̴ ̷ ̵ ̸̵͓̓ ̷̞͒-̸

 ̴̴ ̴ ̷ ̵ ̸-̸̦͖̠̺͇̣̤̊̏̃̆͆̿͛̕͝ Where-̴̝̝͚͎̘͆̋̍̽́́͋͘He̸̢̘̞͕̬̥̭̪̔̇̋̓̇̾͗͋̏̽ will a̸l̷w̸a̴y̴s̴ catch y̸͎̱̠̥̳͉̻͠ou  ̶ ̸ ̸ ̷ ̴

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 ̸̛̫̉̾̒ ̵̪̗̀̿͋ ̷̖͐̋̇͗ ̵̘̋̅̂ ̶̢͐͂̌͝ ̴̻̥̃͑̓͗ ̸̧̛̛͕̲͔̜͉͇̂͑̅͛̊͑̄̽̈́͆͊̎̅̇̐̅̕͝ ̶̨̟̝͉̭̳̼̹͇̯͈̱͖̪͍̙̂̏̅̓̉̄̑̈́̒͂̃̊̔̓̃̔̎̕͘̕͠͠͠͠͝͝͝ ̷̨̳̙̺̲̭̳̠̩̱̞̖̯̦̭̾͋̌̂̿̒̓̎͗ͅ ̷̧̢̡̹̘̘̝̝̦͚͉͚͕̖̳̞̫̝͓̩̣͓̮͓̙̘̌͒́̊͆͒̆̀͌͌͜ͅ ̷͚̮͇̘̱̯͍͙̙̯̝̤̲̠̯̫͓̱͍̱͖̃̾ ̵̞̫̠̹͙̪̩̠̞̟̫̀͆͊̃͋͐͋̀̽̈́̌̕̕ ̵̡̢̠̖̘̰̮̣̤̙̍̅̄͒̃͛͑͒͘̚͜ ̸̩̠̑̑͊͑̍̄̒̇́̉͗͂͒͋̽̌̕̚͘̚͝͠ ̴̡̧̢̞̼̘͙̣̤̲̫̠̺̦͍̼̼͍̺͈̝̥͕̖̹͛̇̍̈́̀̂̑̓̋̑͌̑̓̅́̊̍͗̄͆͑̔͘͜͝ ̵̢̨͙̙̺̇̀͛̆̈́̓̒̓̃̿̉́͆͂͝͝͠ͅ ̵̨̟͙̟͕̥̠̩̆̐͂̑̎̐͋̌̏͜͠ ̶̧̢̨̛̫͇̮͉͈̠̳̦̜̱̬̳̻̳̯͗̄̌̎̇̄̓̊̓̈́̉̾̾́̀̃̈́́̑̈͘̕͘ ̸̨̨̱̤̯̟̮̗̰͚̯̮̫͎͖̙̬͉̰̳͚̒̀̅̎͛̄̌̌͛̿̅̂̿́̕ ̷̡̧̨͔͕̺͖̙͇͎̻̮̺̱̥̗̹̰͚̘̞̂́̆̍̐̄̓͂͌̎̉͂̂̈́̀͛̓͘̚̚͝ ̸̡̛̹̳̥͉͓͓̼̝͍̱̳͖̼̻̦̝͙̜̯̩̰̑̋̈́̈͑̒̂ͅ ̷̛̦̫͚̯͚̬̭̪̞̘̺͈̼̠̟̝̰̲͖̓͂̆͐̎̑̀̾̀̾̋̾͂̈́̔͘̚͘͝͝͠ ̶̡̼̰̝̳̯͓̲̼̖̹͚̓  ̶̡̡̨̛̛͇͓̘͙̰̫͖͔͇̺̠̤͓̪͔͈͉̲̮̥̲͖̹̰͚̝͔͉͓̱͓͕̼͙̤̖̯̻͈̘̭͎̝́͒̅̏̊͂̅̈́́͗̋̕͝ͅͅͅ ̶̢̢̡̡̡̡̛̹̖̳̜̟̖̘͕͙̲̭͉͕̝̠̫̹̼̖̜͇̘̱͍̪̦͕̖̣̭̫̫̘̝̟̱͕̘͂̉͑͑̑̔͌̐̋̔̄̏̓͋̉͂̑̈́̐͊̾͂̉͘͘̕͘͘ͅ ̷̲̼̬̰̼̝͖͌̿ ̷̧̢͈̩̙̜̰͙̯̝͔̲̲̩̰̤͎͎̦͒̇̐̈͂̋͗̿̿͑̚͝͝ ̵̢̢̧̗͚̩̱̭̺͕̬̥̣̤̥̦͇̫͇̝̥̜͖̜̤́͂ ̵̀̍̊̀̎̈́̅̔̐̎̾͂͆̌̐̇͘͘͝͝͝͝ ̶̧̖̤̟͚͍̼͕̟̦̗͇̠̜͍̿̍̆͂̅͆͘͠ͅ ̵̡̡̧̧̧̢͇̺͈̠̰̪̬̥͌̂͂̿̕̕͜ ̵̘̋̅̂ ̶̢͐͂̌͝ ̴̻̥̃͑̓͗

 

“̵This time, 

"«You» will stay by «My» side."

 ̶̨͕͇̘͛ ̴̨̬̮̱̈́̓̓͑̈́̈́̃̐͘̕͜ ̶͚͙̘̘̬͑̈́̐̔̂̀ ̸̳͝ ̴͖̳̗͚̈́̾͜ͅ ̵̰̙̀̓ͅ ̷̠̲̅̋̈́̿̋́̿̈́ ̷̨͎̠͇̆͛̾͘ ̸̨͉̮̪̝͇͓̲̒͒̒͆̎̑͐̋̓ ̸̥͓̼͍̄̌̏̌̎̽͑ͅ ̷̘͋̎͘̚ ̴̼̙͕͕̝͇̞̝̒̽͛̓͆̄͊̒͝ ̵̟̀̕͘ ̴̣̭̞́̄ ̵̧͎̩̟͈̟͖͓̟̽ͅ ̵̡̥̙̖͖̳̮̩͔͑̿͂́́͘͜͝͠ ̸͖̹͈̥̟̪̮̹͊͌̆͑̀͋̃̓̎̓ ̶̻̥̓́̊̄̇̒͒̚ ̵͚̾̿̋̔̅̃̕͘ ̶̗̥͖̀͒̽̒̃́͆͌ ̷͙̲̽͊̓̒̎̃̉ ̷̢̧̞͓̖͉̤͗̐̄͊̃͛̌͌͘ ̷̛̣̱̼͊͒͂̌͋̇͘ ̸̱̠̞̥̘̮̈́ ̴̛̫̗̩̓͊͑͑̋͛̉͒̐ ̵͙̮̯͉̅̂̓̒̔̓̅̀̕͜͝ ̵͎̱̭̞͙̮̱͕̏́̒͗̇͗́ ̷̥̙͆̌́͜ͅ ̵̧̡̬̭̬̼͍͕̦̝̇̐́͗͗̕͝͝ ̸̼̻̎̂̋̋̍͜ ̶͈̾̽̅̈́ ̸̭̏͘ ̷̨̮̞̖̬͔̹̙̦̾

 ̴̛̹̥̲̤̈́̀̈́̎̚͜ͅ ̶̢̢̭̹̳̦̹̓͛́̏̀͆̅͒͒ ̵͔̙̫͚̹̯̰͔̹̠̄̋͜ ̷̝̫̱̮̳͉̟̞̣̀̂̈́̏̽́̌̀̈́͛ ̶͓̖̩̠͚͍̺̙̍̍̎͜ ̴̨̪͙̠͕̖̘̒̎̂̎̈́͌͑̏͋̀̊̚̚ ̶̺͙̱̘͎͛̀̅̓ͅ ̴̭̩͈̳̳͓̝͇̠̬̟͇̞̼̌̉̓͌̇̒̌ͅ ̵̧̛̦̻̬̯̖̹͙̤̅͆͒̐̑̐͘͜͠ ̶̢̢̢̘͙̥̗̖͎̲̝͓͚̰̽͆̌̍̽̋̎̆͑͜͜͝ ̷̨͉̾̓̀͛̅̈͑̔̓͒͌͝͝ ̴̨̨̞̹͔̭̟̀̑̽͊̃͑̄͋̓́̕ͅ ̸͓͇͈͉͔͚̎̓̽̋̂̔̏̒͛͊̊͆͘ ̷̖̞̦̻͉̺͇͍̠̺͎̔̄̃̋̾͐͋̀̈́͆̈́͊̚͝ ̵̢̡̛̩̳͉̱̙̘̘̱͓̮̠͚͙̌͂̑̿̽̋̌́͊̍͠͝ ̷̪͍̞̋̎̏̈́̾̐͘͝ͅ ̵̛̞̫͇̗̑͊́ ̸̡̱̠̙̱͉̳̤̭̞̉̅̄͋̅͒ ̷̭̣̙̼̗̻̠̄̉̋̅̊̑͂͋̑̂̐̓̽̎͝ ̷̡̢̖͕͎̬̣̩͕͈̭͙̭̆̇̿̾̿̆̄͒̚͜ ̶̙̫̜̜̬̼̰̻͌̈́͑̓͛͑̓͐̋̀̎͜ͅ ̴̢̢͙̳̬̦͚̼͙̳̭̟͉̬̬̃̌ ̴̡̹̙̰̓͐̀̀̐̽̎̿͜ ̴̞͖̫̘̪̈́ ̵͍̝̠͉̀̈́͐͘͜ ̴̧̧̪̦͚̜̤̼̬͕̞̻̤̞͓̯̉̄̒ ̴̨̡͙̠͎͌̃̋͘ ̸̨̧̠̰͍̪̫͇̣̥̭͈͓̩̲̅͠ ̷̛͙͉͕̺̝̘̗̮̝̺̳͚͌͗͋̈́͐̐̂͛͠ ̸̨̦̼̘͖͑̀̓ ̷̨̗͌̍̾̋̀͆͗̈́̃̉̽͒͘̚̚͠ ̸̢̨̲̪̠̪͓̻̿̅̈̈̇̚͠ ̴̛̤̦̣̤͎̲̖̩̓̒̑̽̒̚ ̷̰̖̫̱͎̓͋͛͑̀̇́̎̈́͌̂̎̒͝͠͝ ̸̡̧̯͛͌̐͑͌̓̐̇̀̋̆̃̂͘͝͝ ̵̡̡̺̩͓̺̫̫̺͎̫̝̝̓ ̶̨̦̠͙̦̞͉̬̹̯̰̭̏͐͠͝ ̷̢̢̙̺̹͓̪̄̉́͌̀͑͌̇̋̀́̈̈́̕ ̴̱͚̞̲̰̳͂͜ ̵̢̭̭̰̖̻̘̹̹̖̼̻͔͗̄̓͜ ̴͓͋̅͛̇͊͗̕ ̷̨̨͔̓̓ ̶̨͔̣̣̭̺̞͔̌̏̀̄ͅ ̸̩͖͇̼̺̟̇̄̋̈́͋͑̍̽̌̆͘͘ ̴̢̛̛̜͚͔͚̼̬͇͓̻̙̱̪̪͇̀̎̆͆̽̍̈́̈́̉͂̐̇͠ ̸̧̤̪̲̝͇̫͎̯͈͐͑ ̶̮̟̯̘̟̳͗͌͋ ̴̨̨̨̹̪͔͔̳͇̗͚̥̀͒̂́͗̇̏̚̕ ̸̢̬̈́͂͑̏͛́͘ ̷̡̢͚͖̺͚̱̥̪̦̝̰͈̀̂̏̌̎́͛̒̃̇̀̿͘͜͝͠ͅ ̵̨̰͙͈͎͚͛̐̀͆̌ ̴̢̛̳̝͙͖̭͙̟̝͚̹̥̲̭͑͌̎̌́̏̀̽͘͘͜͝ ̶̢͖̲͕͉̗̭̭̭͇͍̜̼̞̆̅̈́͗́͂͐̈́̌̌̃̉̌̃̑͝ ̷̢̨̧̙͎̫̜̤̤̯̟̪̮̮̀̽͜ͅ ̴̨͚̪̅̒̊̓̐̉ ̴̪͈̫̗̜͗̿̄̕͜͝ ̷̢̪̯͕́̐́͌̒̌̒̕̚ ̴̠͍̥̞̰̣͖͙͂̌̔͑ ̸̡̲͉̰̪̱̫̰͖̰͔͍̜̱̬̥̅͐̈́͛̌͐̈́̑̊͗̋͌̈́̀̀̅ ̵̨̛͔̳͙̄̌̊͊́̒̎̿̐͑̕ ̵̡̩̖̣̬͐̈́̊̈́̕͝ ̶̨̢̺͚̲͔̜͎̜͙̜̗͕̻̖̾̊͆̍͗̿̽̕ ̶̧̖̤̟͚͍̼͕̟̦̗͇̠̜͍̿̍̆͂̅͆͘͠ͅ ̵̡̡̧̧̧̢͇̺͈̠̰̪̬̥͌̂͂̿̕̕͜

 ̸̛̫̉̾̒ ̵̪̗̀̿͋ ̷̖͐̋̇͗ ̵̘̋̅̂ ̶̢͐͂̌͝ ̴̻̥̃͑̓͗ ̵̡̜̹͍͂͘͝ ̷̬̫͕͌̂ ̴̺̺̠͍̇̉̀͝ ̸̴̢̛͍͔̮̹̥̲̤̄̈́̀̈́̎͘̚͜͝͝ͅ ̶̢̢̭̹̳̦̹̓͛́̏̀͆̅͒͒ ̵͔̙̫͚̹̯̰͔̹̠̄̋͜ ̷̝̫̱̮̳͉̟̞̣̀̂̈́̏̽́̌̀̈́͛ ̶͓̖̩̠͚͍̺̙̍̍̎͜ ̴̨̪͙̠͕̖̘̒̎̂̎̈́͌͑̏͋̀̊̚̚ ̶̺͙̱̘͎͛̀̅̓ͅ ̴̭̩͈̳̳͓̝͇̠̬̟͇̞̼̌̉̓͌̇̒̌ͅ ̵̧̛̦̻̬̯̖̹͙̤̅͆͒̐̑̐͘͜͠ ̶̢̢̢̘͙̥̗̖͎̲̝͓͚̰̽͆̌̍̽̋̎̆͑͜͜͝ ̷̨͉̾̓̀͛̅̈͑̔̓͒͌͝͝ ̴̨̨̞̹͔̭̟̀̑̽͊̃͑̄͋̓́̕ͅ ̸͓͇͈͉͔͚̎̓̽̋̂̔̏̒͛͊̊͆͘ ̷̖̞̦̻͉̺͇͍̠̺͎̔̄̃̋̾͐͋̀̈́͆̈́͊̚͝ ̵̢̡̛̩̳͉̱̙̘̘̱͓̮̠͚͙̌͂̑̿̽̋̌́͊̍͠͝ ̷̪͍̞̋̎̏̈́̾̐͘͝ͅ ̵̛̞̫͇̗̑͊́ ̸̡̱̠̙̱͉̳̤̭̞̉̅̄͋̅͒ ̷̭̣̙̼̗̻̠̄̉̋̅̊̑͂͋̑̂̐̓̽̎͝ ̷̡̢̖͕͎̬̣̩͕͈̭͙̭̆̇̿̾̿̆̄͒̚͜ ̶̙̫̜̜̬̼̰̻͌̈́͑̓͛͑̓͐̋̀̎͜ͅ ̴̢̢͙̳̬̦͚̼͙̳̭̟͉̬̬̃̌ ̴̡̹̙̰̓͐̀̀̐̽̎̿͜ ̴̞͖̫̘̪̈́ ̵͍̝̠͉̀̈́͐͘͜ ̴̧̧̪̦͚̜̤̼̬͕̞̻̤̞͓̯̉̄̒ ̴̨̡͙̠͎͌̃̋͘ ̸̨̧̠̰͍̪̫͇̣̥̭͈͓̩̲̅͠ ̷̛͙͉͕̺̝̘̗̮̝̺̳͚͌͗͋̈́͐̐̂͛͠ ̸̨̦̼̘͖͑̀̓ ̷̨̗͌̍̾̋̀͆͗̈́̃̉̽͒͘̚̚͠ ̸̢̨̲̪̠̪͓̻̿̅̈̈̇̚͠ ̴̛̤̦̣̤͎̲̖̩̓̒̑̽̒̚ ̷̰̖̫̱͎̓͋͛͑̀̇́̎̈́͌̂̎̒͝͠͝ ̸̡̧̯͛͌̐͑͌̓̐̇̀̋̆̃̂͘͝͝ ̵̡̡̺̩͓̺̫̫̺͎̫̝̝̓ ̶̨̦̠͙̦̞͉̬̹̯̰̭̏͐͠͝ ̷̢̢̙̺̹͓̪̄̉́͌̀͑͌̇̋̀́̈̈́̕ ̴̱͚̞̲̰̳͂͜ ̵̢̭̭̰̖̻̘̹̹̖̼̻͔͗̄̓͜ ̴͓͋̅͛̇͊͗̕ ̷̨̨͔̓̓ ̶̨͔̣̣̭̺̞͔̌̏̀̄ͅ ̸̩͖͇̼̺̟̇̄̋̈́͋͑̍̽̌̆͘͘ ̴̢̛̛̜͚͔͚̼̬͇͓̻̙̱̪̪͇̀̎̆͆̽̍̈́̈́̉͂̐̇͠ ̸̧̤̪̲̝͇̫͎̯͈͐͑ ̶̮̟̯̘̟̳͗͌͋ ̴̨̨̨̹̪͔͔̳͇̗͚̥̀͒̂́͗̇̏̚̕ ̸̢̬̈́͂͑̏͛́͘ ̷̡̢͚͖̺͚̱̥̪̦̝̰͈̀̂̏̌̎́͛̒̃̇̀̿͘͜͝͠ͅ ̵̨̰͙͈͎͚͛̐̀͆̌ ̴̢̛̳̝͙͖̭͙̟̝͚̹̥̲̭͑͌̎̌́̏̀̽͘͘͜͝ ̶̢͖̲͕͉̗̭̭̭͇͍̜̼̞̆̅̈́͗́͂͐̈́̌̌̃̉̌̃̑͝ ̷̢̨̧̙͎̫̜̤̤̯̟̪̮̮̀̽͜ͅ ̴̨͚̪̅̒̊̓̐̉ ̴̪͈̫̗̜͗̿̄̕͜͝ ̷̢̪̯͕́̐́͌̒̌̒̕̚ ̴̠͍̥̞̰̣͖͙͂̌̔͑ ̸̡̲͉̰̪̱̫̰͖̰͔͍̜̱̬̥̅͐̈́͛̌͐̈́̑̊͗̋͌̈́̀̀̅ ̵̨̛͔̳͙̄̌̊͊́̒̎̿̐͑̕ ̵̡̩̖̣̬͐̈́̊̈́̕͝ ̶̨̢̺͚̲͔̜͎̜͙̜̗͕̻̖̾̊͆̍͗̿̽̕ ̶̧̖̤̟͚͍̼͕̟̦̗͇̠̜͍̿̍̆͂̅͆͘͠ͅ ̵̡̡̧̧̧̢͇̺͈̠̰̪̬̥͌̂͂̿̕̕͜

 ̸̢̏̏̆̕ ̸̡̢̞̣͍̼̗̤̲̭̏͊͐̓̚̕ ̶̬̼̣͕̱͍̎ ̵̭̖͋͑́̿̔͒̀̐̑̄͜ ̸̘̝̝̥͚͕͎̯̀͊̑͑ͅ ̵̲͓͇̬͕̏̒̆́̊ ̶̟͙̱̯̗̼̹͔̮̱͒͂͋̕ ̵̧̘̰̘̿̔̃ ̴͓̼̠̥̽̉̇̀͛͠ ̴̛̼̝̫͂̉͛ ̷̧͓͚͎̗̩͔͚̑͆̀ͅ ̶̢̡̰̠̫̟̯̺̉͒̚ͅ ̵͈̤̘̰̝̐̕͜ ̶̢͎̟͇̙̹̾ ̵̠̼̪̲̖͙͍̉̔͗͌̅̚͘͜͝ ̶̺͉̭̜͇͊͋̆̑̌̓̕ ̶̭̺̝̭̊̌́̋̌͝ ̷̰͇̩̄͠ ̸͖͎̻̄́̈́̈́̏ ̶̧̬͈̻̤͕̟̒͌̉̈͊̚͝͝ ̶̢̯͓̻̰̼̗̲̉̕͝ ̵̛̬̲̘͕̤̩̲̄͊̉͊̈́̕ͅ ̷̣̰͎̜̬̲͒͋͌͊̈͐̂͂͜ ̶̥̤̜̺͔̍́̓̔͆̽̿̎͜͝ ̷̳̤͕͓͔̼̄̄̈́̏̌͋͐̈́ ̸̞͔̯͈̺̮̮̗̀̀͌̀͆ͅ ̵̢͚̑̈́͘ ̴̲̥̬͓̿ ̸̣͖́ ̵̱̥͎̖̤͛͊̕͜ ̶̣͕̙̰̞̒ ̷̛͎̮̼̮̌̓͑̉͌̆̏̚ͅ ̴̧͔͒̐͠ ̴̯͉͈͕̣͇̟̲̻͋͑̀̔̅͌͛̍̚ ̶̗͇̤̓̎̅͆̎̌͂̌́ ̸̧̳̝͙͈̣̯̹̉͘̚̚ ̴̙̩̭̩̙̺̐̌̓́͂̉̔̆̈́̚ͅ ̶̺͕̜̈́ ̵̪͇̬̙͔͇͇̝͒͒̕͜ͅ ̷̧͚̝̬̲̭͍͖̳̊̓̀̄̅̓̉̎̿̕ͅ ̵̯̋̅͊͗̊̈̈́͘̕ ̴͇͈̥̑̊͠ ̵̢̤̫̝͙͖̬͐͘͜͠ͅͅ ̴̜̲̉͒̇͝ ̷̬͇͐̅̇̄͘͜͠ ̴͍̟͒̈́̊̈́̋ ̶̰̩̰͆͐͊͝͝ ̴̛͔̟͉͙̠̳͚͉̄̏̄̓̕͜ͅ

 ̸̧̢̨͓̞̘̦͐̓̐̀̈̿̈́̒̋͂̔͒̽͗̂́͗̓̐̑̄̐́̚͠͝͝ ̶̛̛̯̠̬͕̂́̎͛̊͒̎͑̃͑̋̈́͑̎͋͌͒͠͠ ̴̨̬̞̭͔̼̫͍͙̖͈̜̥̲̥͎̦͕̟͔̭̍͆͌̈̒̎̒̌̒͗͂̔͛̈́͆͂̈̈́̕͜͠ ̷̯̼̻͔̼̣͔̟̄̏͝ ̵̡̢̡̣̞͈̠̯̙͕͍̘̪͎͇̗̦̖̦̪͔̜̝͕͇͔̬̍ ̴̧̛͖̫͎̺͙̪̮̜̫̣̦̥̗͔͉̭̙͕̙͈̲̫̙̈́̎̍̿͂̆̄̔̈́̋̀́́̌̐͊̐͛̈̄̓͒̚͜ͅ ̷̧̧̨̡̱͖̰̣̬̤̤͔̘͔̟̬̳̦̬͙͎͕͖̘̖̭̤͑͆͑͒͋̌̃̂͒͑̑͛̆̉̏̍̓̓̾̚̚͘͝͠͠ͅ ̸̛̤́̓̀̄̇͑̾͗̋̓͛͒̄ ̴̧̞͔̭̠̩̮͉̫͕͈͈͎̻̰͍̳̲̞̳̘̾̄͛͊̒͑̈̍͛̑͋̔̏́̍̈̇̂̊̅̐̕͝ ̶̛̫̲͎̰͕̘̩͙͓͍̥͓̬̽̏͐͐̂̏̑̽́̂̽̂̉͑̑̾̂̄̽̂͋͠͝ ̷̖͎̩̙͚̖̟̬̬̖̱̣͕̽̿̓́͗̇͒̀͌͋̀͊̽͒͂͗̕̕͠ ̶̡̡̨̛̛͇͓̘͙̰̫͖͔͇̺̠̤͓̪͔͈͉̲̮̥̲͖̹̰͚̝͔͉͓̱͓͕̼͙̤̖̯̻͈̘̭͎̝́͒̅̏̊͂̅̈́́͗̋̕͝ͅͅͅ ̶̢̢̡̡̡̡̛̹̖̳̜̟̖̘͕͙̲̭͉͕̝̠̫̹̼̖̜͇̘̱͍̪̦͕̖̣̭̫̫̘̝̟̱͕̘͂̉͑͑̑̔͌̐̋̔̄̏̓͋̉͂̑̈́̐͊̾͂̉͘͘̕͘͘ͅ ̷̧̧̛̻̫̗͖̟̬͔̘̣͚͇̇͐̈́̃͗̑͛̇̀̋̏͌͋̀̅͋̍̓̏͋̋̉̕͘͘͜͝͝ ̶̧̧̻͖͙͚͉̰̜͓̮̲͚͕̩͚̣̱̙̘͖͓͍̺̮̙͛̐̓̕ͅ ̸̢̘̰͇̙̮̣͖̺̥̜̲̜͚̦̙̯͕͍͉̹̯̟̤͈͖̔̕͜ͅ ̶̧̡̛̛̝̤̳̲̼̣̬̭̲͓͖͇͔͙̽͊͆́͐͌͒̊́̀̂͊͊̈́̒̆͆̈́͌͌̕͠ ̴̠̫̞̗̤͈̂̄͛̈̒̍̈́̀̄̂̿̋̿̄̐͑̉̔̐̏͘͝͝͝  ̴̢̨̢̨̩͓͓̬̪̙͕͎̱̫̣̗͉̖̜̠͈͈̼̥̳̩̻͍̯̲̱̱̯͇̫͍̖͇͖̝͈̙̬̍̇͑̃̋̈́̐͊͌͑̚̚͘͠͝ͅ ̴̨̨̧̢̨̧̟̱̫͉̻̥̼̫̣͈͚̬̜̣̣̯̫̣̬̗͇̟̼̫͕̟̮͔̠̆̀͆̂̇̎͂̈̉̀̊͗͛́́̽͗͐͐̈̈́͐͂͂̇̈̆̊̃͂͊̋̒̎̎̈́̚̕͜͜͠ ̵̧̢̧̡̢̻̩̬̳͍̲̦̖͓͉̲̙͈͚̯͍̞̖̖̞̯̠̞̬̳̘̪͕̪̞̱̇̒̅̉́̊̃̉̀͜ͅ ̶̷̡̡̧͖͎̼̭̖͓̲̭̩͚̲̬̰̭̥̞̭̻̜̠̼̩̮̥̜̗̱͎̗̗̪̗̟̰̥͔̣̞̬͕͓̜͙̬̹̗̠͈̹̼̖͉̺̮͚͖̙̓̿̄̈́͊͋̈͛͒̊͂̀͛͛́̋͋̀́̃̏̽̀̓̆͐̍́̆͌̎͆̋͋̎͊͆̈́̓́̓̀̇͂͊̀̚̕̕͝͝͝͠͠ ̸̧̛̛͕̲͔̜͉͇̂͑̅͛̊͑̄̽̈́͆͊̎̅̇̐̅̕͝ ̶̨̟̝͉̭̳̼̹͇̯͈̱͖̪͍̙̂̏̅̓̉̄̑̈́̒͂̃̊̔̓̃̔̎̕͘̕͠͠͠͠͝͝͝ ̷̨̳̙̺̲̭̳̠̩̱̞̖̯̦̭̾͋̌̂̿̒̓̎͗ͅ ̷̧̢̡̹̘̘̝̝̦͚͉͚͕̖̳̞̫̝͓̩̣͓̮͓̙̘̌͒́̊͆͒̆̀͌͌͜ͅ ̷͚̮͇̘̱̯͍͙̙̯̝̤̲̠̯̫͓̱͍̱͖̃̾ ̵̞̫̠̹͙̪̩̠̞̟̫̀͆͊̃͋͐͋̀̽̈́̌̕̕ ̵̡̢̠̖̘̰̮̣̤̙̍̅̄͒̃͛͑͒͘̚͜ ̸̩̠̑̑͊͑̍̄̒̇́̉͗͂͒͋̽̌̕̚͘̚͝͠ ̴̡̧̢̞̼̘͙̣̤̲̫̠̺̦͍̼̼͍̺͈̝̥͕̖̹͛̇̍̈́̀̂̑̓̋̑͌̑̓̅́̊̍͗̄͆͑̔͘͜͝ ̵̢̨͙̙̺̇̀͛̆̈́̓̒̓̃̿̉́͆͂͝͝͠ͅ ̵̨̟͙̟͕̥̠̩̆̐͂̑̎̐͋̌̏͜͠ ̶̧̢̨̛̫͇̮͉͈̠̳̦̜̱̬̳̻̳̯͗̄̌̎̇̄̓̊̓̈́̉̾̾́̀̃̈́́̑̈͘̕͘ ̸̨̨̱̤̯̟̮̗̰͚̯̮̫͎͖̙̬͉̰̳͚̒̀̅̎͛̄̌̌͛̿̅̂̿́̕ ̷̡̧̨͔͕̺͖̙͇͎̻̮̺̱̥̗̹̰͚̘̞̂́̆̍̐̄̓͂͌̎̉͂̂̈́̀͛̓͘̚̚͝ ̸̡̛̹̳̥͉͓͓̼̝͍̱̳͖̼̻̦̝͙̜̯̩̰̑̋̈́̈͑̒̂ͅ ̷̛̦̫͚̯͚̬̭̪̞̘̺͈̼̠̟̝̰̲͖̓͂̆͐̎̑̀̾̀̾̋̾͂̈́̔͘̚͘͝͝͠ ̶̡̼̰̝̳̯͓̲̼̖̹͚̓  ̶̡̡̨̛̛͇͓̘͙̰̫͖͔͇̺̠̤͓̪͔͈͉̲̮̥̲͖̹̰͚̝͔͉͓̱͓͕̼͙̤̖̯̻͈̘̭͎̝́͒̅̏̊͂̅̈́́͗̋̕͝ͅͅͅ ̶̢̢̡̡̡̡̛̹̖̳̜̟̖̘͕͙̲̭͉͕̝̠̫̹̼̖̜͇̘̱͍̪̦͕̖̣̭̫̫̘̝̟̱͕̘͂̉͑͑̑̔͌̐̋̔̄̏̓͋̉͂̑̈́̐͊̾͂̉͘͘̕͘͘ͅ ̷̲̼̬̰̼̝͖͌̿ ̷̧̢͈̩̙̜̰͙̯̝͔̲̲̩̰̤͎͎̦͒̇̐̈͂̋͗̿̿͑̚͝͝ ̵̢̢̧̗͚̩̱̭̺͕̬̥̣̤̥̦͇̫͇̝̥̜͖̜̤́͂ ̵͙̝͎̀̍̊̀̎̈́̅̔̐̎̾͂͆̌̐̇̉͗̋͋͘͘͝͝͝͝͝ͅ ̴̧̖̩̬͓̙̮͇͈̺̹͖́̌̀͊͑̊̓̿͂̅͒̊͋́͆̓͜͝͝͝͝ ̸̧͚͓̹̰̭͔͔̝͓͔̜̩͓̥̒̏̿́̈́̂͌̿͂̈́̍͊̿̂̀̓̾̚̚̕͜͠͝  ̶̢̢̺̻̳̭̘̩̙̼͍͈̣̰̠̠̹̑̈̔̈́͊̈́̉̏̏͆̓̃̕͝ͅ ̴̨̧̡̛͎̮̘̹̬͚̫̱̥̲͔͎͇͈̠̲͇̳̮̙̦̠͙͈̭̠͕͔͈͖͇̔̐̑͒́̔̒̈́̊̍͐̅͗͐͊̽̾́̑̉͌̾̀̀͌̾̚͘͜͜͝ͅͅͅͅ ̸̡̝̣̤̟͚̦͚̠̺̯̙̀̔́̓͗̔̓̀̕̚ ̸̨̨̡̞̩̠͔̰̱̦̦̝͎̦̖͉̩̜̱̰͎̗͓͌͑́́͜͜ ̷̧̪͎̦̞͇͍̗̠̯̦̪̯̠̥̿̈́̈͑̊̚̕͜ͅ ̵͍̗̮̹̪̦̬͇̣̻̭̻͒̒͛̾̈́̆̓̚ ̴̺̤̾́́̓̓̐̂̄͂̇͛̕ ̴̡̪͉̦͈̯̞̼͙̞̫̬̼̩̥̆͌̍̓̀͐̀͊̐̑͆͊́͌́̋̈̍̑͐̐͜͝͝͝͝ ̷̛̜̉̇̑́̍̔̄̒̃̅̚̕̕͝͝ ̶̡̖̰̠͖̙̬͓͇̜͚̲̼̝̖̓͆̎͊̑̍͐̈́́͝ ̶̢̠̮̮̺̹͙̤̮͈͕͚̱̠͖͈̻́̓̉̓͐̉́͒́̓͌̌̌͒̑́̈́̕ ̵̨̘̲̩͙̫̗̖̟͎͍͉̤͕͙̞̮̼͍̜̪̯͎̉ ̷̢̢̢̡͉̮̪̠͍̗̞͙̰̞͍̼̠͖̭̳͈̜̥̍́̓̽͒̽͘͜͜͝ ̴̡̢̛̭̼͓͉̯̲̱̻̂̀̍ ̵̢̛̛̼͔͖̮̝̼̜̠̗̱̼͍̣̭͖̬̗̘͙̜̥̹̺̐͂̍̔̌́͒̐̌̈́͆̾̎̚͝͝͝ͅ ̷̡̯̦͚̝͇͍̳̝̗̟͚̠̯̹͚͙̺̦̭̼͕̉̆́̂̋͒̋͊͊̾͂̌̍̽͊ ̶̢̧̡̟͕̪̱̰͙̼̠̪̠̥͎̫̞͎͕̩͖̥͙̰̲̙̭̇̈́̓̒͒̄̉̊̒̿̾͑͒̂͘̕͜͝ ̷̶̢̧̨̢̲̠̘̙̩̫̣͓̼̺͚̲͔̜͎̜͙̜̗͕̻̖͂͋̑͛̓̏̄̇͒̑̎̊̃̾̋͗̂̈́͊̅̀̈́̾̊͆̍͗̿̽̕̕͠͠ ̶̧̖̤̟͚͍̼͕̟̦̗͇̠̜͍̿̍̆͂̅͆͘͠ͅ ̵̡̡̧̧̧̢͇̺͈̠̰̪̬̥͌̂͂̿̕̕͜

̴̛̹̥̲̤̈́̀̈́̎̚͜ͅ ̶̢̢̭̹̳̦̹̓͛́̏̀͆̅͒͒ ̵͔̙̫͚̹̯̰͔̹̠̄̋͜ ̷̝̫̱̮̳͉̟̞̣̀̂̈́̏̽́̌̀̈́͛ ̶͓̖̩̠͚͍̺̙̍̍̎͜ ̴̨̪͙̠͕̖̘̒̎̂̎̈́͌͑̏͋̀̊̚̚ ̶̺͙̱̘͎͛̀̅̓ͅ ̴̭̩͈̳̳͓̝͇̠̬̟͇̞̼̌̉̓͌̇̒̌ͅ ̵̧̛̦̻̬̯̖̹͙̤̅͆͒̐̑̐͘͜͠ ̶̢̢̢̘͙̥̗̖͎̲̝͓͚̰̽͆̌̍̽̋̎̆͑͜͜͝ ̷̨͉̾̓̀͛̅̈͑̔̓͒͌͝͝ ̴̨̨̞̹͔̭̟̀̑̽͊̃͑̄͋̓́̕ͅ ̸͓͇͈͉͔͚̎̓̽̋̂̔̏̒͛͊̊͆͘ ̷̖̞̦̻͉̺͇͍̠̺͎̔̄̃̋̾͐͋̀̈́͆̈́͊̚͝ ̵̢̡̛̩̳͉̱̙̘̘̱͓̮̠͚͙̌͂̑̿̽̋̌́͊̍͠͝ ̷̪͍̞̋̎̏̈́̾̐͘͝ͅ ̵̛̞̫͇̗̑͊́ ̸̡̱̠̙̱͉̳̤̭̞̉̅̄͋̅͒ ̷̭̣̙̼̗̻̠̄̉̋̅̊̑͂͋̑̂̐̓̽̎͝ ̷̡̢̖͕͎̬̣̩͕͈̭͙̭̆̇̿̾̿̆̄͒̚͜ ̶̙̫̜̜̬̼̰̻͌̈́͑̓͛͑̓͐̋̀̎͜ͅ ̴̢̢͙̳̬̦͚̼͙̳̭̟͉̬̬̃̌ ̴̡̹̙̰̓͐̀̀̐̽̎̿͜ ̴̞͖̫̘̪̈́ ̵͍̝̠͉̀̈́͐͘͜ ̴̧̧̪̦͚̜̤̼̬͕̞̻̤̞͓̯̉̄̒ ̴̨̡͙̠͎͌̃̋͘ ̸̨̧̠̰͍̪̫͇̣̥̭͈͓̩̲̅͠ ̷̛͙͉͕̺̝̘̗̮̝̺̳͚͌͗͋̈́͐̐̂͛͠ ̸̨̦̼̘͖͑̀̓ ̷̨̗͌̍̾̋̀͆͗̈́̃̉̽͒͘̚̚͠ ̸̢̨̲̪̠̪͓̻̿̅̈̈̇̚͠ ̴̛̤̦̣̤͎̲̖̩̓̒̑̽̒̚ ̷̰̖̫̱͎̓͋͛͑̀̇́̎̈́͌̂̎̒͝͠͝ ̸̡̧̯͛͌̐͑͌̓̐̇̀̋̆̃̂͘͝͝ ̵̡̡̺̩͓̺̫̫̺͎̫̝̝̓ ̶̨̦̠͙̦̞͉̬̹̯̰̭̏͐͠͝ ̷̢̢̙̺̹͓̪̄̉́͌̀͑͌̇̋̀́̈̈́̕ ̴̱͚̞̲̰̳͂͜ ̵̢̭̭̰̖̻̘̹̹̖̼̻͔͗̄̓͜ ̴͓͋̅͛̇͊͗̕ ̷̨̨͔̓̓ ̶̨͔̣̣̭̺̞͔̌̏̀̄ͅ ̸̩͖͇̼̺̟̇̄̋̈́͋͑̍̽̌̆͘͘ ̴̢̛̛̜͚͔͚̼̬͇͓̻̙̱̪̪͇̀̎̆͆̽̍̈́̈́̉͂̐̇͠ ̸̧̤̪̲̝͇̫͎̯͈͐͑ ̶̮̟̯̘̟̳͗͌͋ ̴̨̨̨̹̪͔͔̳͇̗͚̥̀͒̂́͗̇̏̚̕ ̸̢̬̈́͂͑̏͛́͘ ̷̡̢͚͖̺͚̱̥̪̦̝̰͈̀̂̏̌̎́͛̒̃̇̀̿͘͜͝͠ͅ ̵̨̰͙͈͎͚͛̐̀͆̌ ̴̢̛̳̝͙͖̭͙̟̝͚̹̥̲̭͑͌̎̌́̏̀̽͘͘͜͝ ̶̢͖̲͕͉̗̭̭̭͇͍̜̼̞̆̅̈́͗́͂͐̈́̌̌̃̉̌̃̑͝ ̷̢̨̧̙͎̫̜̤̤̯̟̪̮̮̀̽͜ͅ ̴̨͚̪̅̒̊̓̐̉ ̴̪͈̫̗̜͗̿̄̕͜͝ ̷̢̪̯͕́̐́͌̒̌̒̕̚ ̴̠͍̥̞̰̣͖͙͂̌̔͑ ̸̡̲͉̰̪̱̫̰͖̰͔͍̜̱̬̥̅͐̈́͛̌͐̈́̑̊͗̋͌̈́̀̀̅ ̵̨̛͔̳͙̄̌̊͊́̒̎̿̐͑̕ ̵̡̩̖̣̬͐̈́̊̈́̕͝ ̶̨̢̺͚̲͔̜͎̜͙̜̗͕̻̖̾̊͆̍͗̿̽̕ ̶̧̖̤̟͚͍̼͕̟̦̗͇̠̜͍̿̍̆͂̅͆͘͠ͅ ̵̡̡̧̧̧̢͇̺͈̠̰̪̬̥͌̂͂̿̕̕͜

 ̸̧̢̨͓̞̘̦͐̓̐̀̈̿̈́̒̋͂̔͒̽͗̂́͗̓̐̑̄̐́̚͠͝͝ ̶̛̛̯̠̬͕̂́̎͛̊͒̎͑̃͑̋̈́͑̎͋͌͒͠͠ ̴̨̬̞̭͔̼̫͍͙̖͈̜̥̲̥͎̦͕̟͔̭̍͆͌̈̒̎̒̌̒͗͂̔͛̈́͆͂̈̈́̕͜͠ ̷̯̼̻͔̼̣͔̟̄̏͝ ̵̡̢̡̣̞͈̠̯̙͕͍̘̪͎͇̗̦̖̦̪͔̜̝͕͇͔̬̍ ̴̧̛͖̫͎̺͙̪̮̜̫̣̦̥̗͔͉̭̙͕̙͈̲̫̙̈́̎̍̿͂̆̄̔̈́̋̀́́̌̐͊̐͛̈̄̓͒̚͜ͅ ̷̧̧̨̡̱͖̰̣̬̤̤͔̘͔̟̬̳̦̬͙͎͕͖̘̖̭̤͑͆͑͒͋̌̃̂͒͑̑͛̆̉̏̍̓̓̾̚̚͘͝͠͠ͅ ̸̛̤́̓̀̄̇͑̾͗̋̓͛͒̄ ̴̧̞͔̭̠̩̮͉̫͕͈͈͎̻̰͍̳̲̞̳̘̾̄͛͊̒͑̈̍͛̑͋̔̏́̍̈̇̂̊̅̐̕͝ ̶̛̫̲͎̰͕̘̩͙͓͍̥͓̬̽̏͐͐̂̏̑̽́̂̽̂̉͑̑̾̂̄̽̂͋͠͝ ̷̖͎̩̙͚̖̟̬̬̖̱̣͕̽̿̓́͗̇͒̀͌͋̀͊̽͒͂͗̕̕͠ ̶̡̡̨̛̛͇͓̘͙̰̫͖͔͇̺̠̤͓̪͔͈͉̲̮̥̲͖̹̰͚̝͔͉͓̱͓͕̼͙̤̖̯̻͈̘̭͎̝́͒̅̏̊͂̅̈́́͗̋̕͝ͅͅͅ ̶̢̢̡̡̡̡̛̹̖̳̜̟̖̘͕͙̲̭͉͕̝̠̫̹̼̖̜͇̘̱͍̪̦͕̖̣̭̫̫̘̝̟̱͕̘͂̉͑͑̑̔͌̐̋̔̄̏̓͋̉͂̑̈́̐͊̾͂̉͘͘̕͘͘ͅ ̷̧̧̛̻̫̗͖̟̬͔̘̣͚͇̇͐̈́̃͗̑͛̇̀̋̏͌͋̀̅͋̍̓̏͋̋̉̕͘͘͜͝͝ ̶̧̧̻͖͙͚͉̰̜͓̮̲͚͕̩͚̣̱̙̘͖͓͍̺̮̙͛̐̓̕ͅ ̸̢̘̰͇̙̮̣͖̺̥̜̲̜͚̦̙̯͕͍͉̹̯̟̤͈͖̔̕͜ͅ ̶̧̡̛̛̝̤̳̲̼̣̬̭̲͓͖͇͔͙̽͊͆́͐͌͒̊́̀̂͊͊̈́̒̆͆̈́͌͌̕͠ ̴̠̫̞̗̤͈̂̄͛̈̒̍̈́̀̄̂̿̋̿̄̐͑̉̔̐̏͘͝͝͝  ̴̢̨̢̨̩͓͓̬̪̙͕͎̱̫̣̗͉̖̜̠͈͈̼̥̳̩̻͍̯̲̱̱̯͇̫͍̖͇͖̝͈̙̬̍̇͑̃̋̈́̐͊͌͑̚̚͘͠͝ͅ ̴̨̨̧̢̨̧̟̱̫͉̻̥̼̫̣͈͚̬̜̣̣̯̫̣̬̗͇̟̼̫͕̟̮͔̠̆̀͆̂̇̎͂̈̉̀̊͗͛́́̽͗͐͐̈̈́͐͂͂̇̈̆̊̃͂͊̋̒̎̎̈́̚̕͜͜͠ ̵̧̢̧̡̢̻̩̬̳͍̲̦̖͓͉̲̙͈͚̯͍̞̖̖̞̯̠̞̬̳̘̪͕̪̞̱̇̒̅̉́̊̃̉̀͜ͅ ̶̷̡̡̧͖͎̼̭̖͓̲̭̩͚̲̬̰̭̥̞̭̻̜̠̼̩̮̥̜̗̱͎̗̗̪̗̟̰̥͔̣̞̬͕͓̜͙̬̹̗̠͈̹̼̖͉̺̮͚͖̙̓̿̄̈́͊͋̈͛͒̊͂̀͛͛́̋͋̀́̃̏̽̀̓̆͐̍́̆͌̎͆̋͋̎͊͆̈́̓́̓̀̇͂͊̀̚̕̕͝͝͝͠͠ ̸̧̛̛͕̲͔̜͉͇̂͑̅͛̊͑̄̽̈́͆͊̎̅̇̐̅̕͝ ̶̨̟̝͉̭̳̼̹͇̯͈̱͖̪͍̙̂̏̅̓̉̄̑̈́̒͂̃̊̔̓̃̔̎̕͘̕͠͠͠͠͝͝͝ ̷̨̳̙̺̲̭̳̠̩̱̞̖̯̦̭̾͋̌̂̿̒̓̎͗ͅ ̷̧̢̡̹̘̘̝̝̦͚͉͚͕̖̳̞̫̝͓̩̣͓̮͓̙̘̌͒́̊͆͒̆̀͌͌͜ͅ ̷͚̮͇̘̱̯͍͙̙̯̝̤̲̠̯̫͓̱͍̱͖̃̾ ̵̞̫̠̹͙̪̩̠̞̟̫̀͆͊̃͋͐͋̀̽̈́̌̕̕ ̵̡̢̠̖̘̰̮̣̤̙̍̅̄͒̃͛͑͒͘̚͜ ̸̩̠̑̑͊͑̍̄̒̇́̉͗͂͒͋̽̌̕̚͘̚͝͠ ̴̡̧̢̞̼̘͙̣̤̲̫̠̺̦͍̼̼͍̺͈̝̥͕̖̹͛̇̍̈́̀̂̑̓̋̑͌̑̓̅́̊̍͗̄͆͑̔͘͜͝ ̵̢̨͙̙̺̇̀͛̆̈́̓̒̓̃̿̉́͆͂͝͝͠ͅ ̵̨̟͙̟͕̥̠̩̆̐͂̑̎̐͋̌̏͜͠ ̶̧̢̨̛̫͇̮͉͈̠̳̦̜̱̬̳̻̳̯͗̄̌̎̇̄̓̊̓̈́̉̾̾́̀̃̈́́̑̈͘̕͘ ̸̨̨̱̤̯̟̮̗̰͚̯̮̫͎͖̙̬͉̰̳͚̒̀̅̎͛̄̌̌͛̿̅̂̿́̕ ̷̡̧̨͔͕̺͖̙͇͎̻̮̺̱̥̗̹̰͚̘̞̂́̆̍̐̄̓͂͌̎̉͂̂̈́̀͛̓͘̚̚͝ ̸̡̛̹̳̥͉͓͓̼̝͍̱̳͖̼̻̦̝͙̜̯̩̰̑̋̈́̈͑̒̂ͅ ̷̛̦̫͚̯͚̬̭̪̞̘̺͈̼̠̟̝̰̲͖̓͂̆͐̎̑̀̾̀̾̋̾͂̈́̔͘̚͘͝͝͠ ̶̡̼̰̝̳̯͓̲̼̖̹͚̓  ̶̡̡̨̛̛͇͓̘͙̰̫͖͔͇̺̠̤͓̪͔͈͉̲̮̥̲͖̹̰͚̝͔͉͓̱͓͕̼͙̤̖̯̻͈̘̭͎̝́͒̅̏̊͂̅̈́́͗̋̕͝ͅͅͅ ̶̢̢̡̡̡̡̛̹̖̳̜̟̖̘͕͙̲̭͉͕̝̠̫̹̼̖̜͇̘̱͍̪̦͕̖̣̭̫̫̘̝̟̱͕̘͂̉͑͑̑̔͌̐̋̔̄̏̓͋̉͂̑̈́̐͊̾͂̉͘͘̕͘͘ͅ ̷̲̼̬̰̼̝͖͌̿ ̷̧̢͈̩̙̜̰͙̯̝͔̲̲̩̰̤͎͎̦͒̇̐̈͂̋͗̿̿͑̚͝͝ ̵̢̢̧̗͚̩̱̭̺͕̬̥̣̤̥̦͇̫͇̝̥̜͖̜̤́͂ ̵͙̝͎̀̍̊̀̎̈́̅̔̐̎̾͂͆̌̐̇̉͗̋͋͘͘͝͝͝͝͝ͅ ̴̧̖̩̬͓̙̮͇͈̺̹͖́̌̀͊͑̊̓̿͂̅͒̊͋́͆̓͜͝͝͝͝ ̸̧͚͓̹̰̭͔͔̝͓͔̜̩͓̥̒̏̿́̈́̂͌̿͂̈́̍͊̿̂̀̓̾̚̚̕͜͠͝  ̶̢̢̺̻̳̭̘̩̙̼͍͈̣̰̠̠̹̑̈̔̈́͊̈́̉̏̏͆̓̃̕͝ͅ ̴̨̧̡̛͎̮̘̹̬͚̫̱̥̲͔͎͇͈̠̲͇̳̮̙̦̠͙͈̭̠͕͔͈͖͇̔̐̑͒́̔̒̈́̊̍͐̅͗͐͊̽̾́̑̉͌̾̀̀͌̾̚͘͜͜͝ͅͅͅͅ ̸̡̝̣̤̟͚̦͚̠̺̯̙̀̔́̓͗̔̓̀̕̚ ̸̨̨̡̞̩̠͔̰̱̦̦̝͎̦̖͉̩̜̱̰͎̗͓͌͑́́͜͜ ̷̧̪͎̦̞͇͍̗̠̯̦̪̯̠̥̿̈́̈͑̊̚̕͜ͅ ̵͍̗̮̹̪̦̬͇̣̻̭̻͒̒͛̾̈́̆̓̚ ̴̺̤̾́́̓̓̐̂̄͂̇͛̕ ̴̡̪͉̦͈̯̞̼͙̞̫̬̼̩̥̆͌̍̓̀͐̀͊̐̑͆͊́͌́̋̈̍̑͐̐͜͝͝͝͝ ̷̛̜̉̇̑́̍̔̄̒̃̅̚̕̕͝͝ ̶̡̖̰̠͖̙̬͓͇̜͚̲̼̝̖̓͆̎͊̑̍͐̈́́͝ ̶̢̠̮̮̺̹͙̤̮͈͕͚̱̠͖͈̻́̓̉̓͐̉́͒́̓͌̌̌͒̑́̈́̕ ̵̨̘̲̩͙̫̗̖̟͎͍͉̤͕͙̞̮̼͍̜̪̯͎̉ ̷̢̢̢̡͉̮̪̠͍̗̞͙̰̞͍̼̠͖̭̳͈̜̥̍́̓̽͒̽͘͜͜͝ ̴̡̢̛̭̼͓͉̯̲̱̻̂̀̍ ̵̢̛̛̼͔͖̮̝̼̜̠̗̱̼͍̣̭͖̬̗̘͙̜̥̹̺̐͂̍̔̌́͒̐̌̈́͆̾̎̚͝͝͝ͅ ̷̡̯̦͚̝͇͍̳̝̗̟͚̠̯̹͚͙̺̦̭̼͕̉̆́̂̋͒̋͊͊̾͂̌̍̽͊ ̶̢̧̡̟͕̪̱̰͙̼̠̪̠̥͎̫̞͎͕̩͖̥͙̰̲̙̭̇̈́̓̒͒̄̉̊̒̿̾͑͒̂͘̕͜͝ ̷̶̢̧̨̢̲̠̘̙̩̫̣͓̼̺͚̲͔̜͎̜͙̜̗͕̻̖͂͋̑͛̓̏̄̇͒̑̎̊̃̾̋͗̂̈́͊̅̀̈́̾̊͆̍͗̿̽̕̕͠͠ ̶̧̖̤̟͚͍̼͕̟̦̗͇̠̜͍̿̍̆͂̅͆͘͠ͅ ̵̡̡̧̧̧̢͇̺͈̠̰̪̬̥͌̂͂̿̕̕͜

 ̷̡̧̨͔͕̺͖̙͇͎̻̮̺̱̥̗̹̰͚̘̞̂́̆̍̐̄̓͂͌̎̉͂̂̈́̀͛̓͘̚̚͝ ̸̡̛̹̳̥͉͓͓̼̝͍̱̳͖̼̻̦̝͙̜̯̩̰̑̋̈́̈͑̒̂ͅ ̷̛̦̫͚̯͚̬̭̪̞̘̺͈̼̠̟̝̰̲͖̓͂̆͐̎̑̀̾̀̾̋̾͂̈́̔͘̚͘͝͝͠ ̶̡̼̰̝̳̯͓̲̼̖̹͚̓  ̶̡̡̨̛̛͇͓̘͙̰̫͖͔͇̺̠̤͓̪͔͈͉̲̮̥̲͖̹̰͚̝͔͉͓̱͓͕̼͙̤̖̯̻͈̘̭͎̝́͒̅̏̊͂̅̈́́͗̋̕͝ͅͅͅ ̶̢̢̡̡̡̡̛̹̖̳̜̟̖̘͕͙̲̭͉͕̝̠̫̹̼̖̜͇̘̱͍̪̦͕̖̣̭̫̫̘̝̟̱͕̘͂̉͑͑̑̔͌̐̋̔̄̏̓͋̉͂̑̈́̐͊̾͂̉͘͘̕͘͘ͅ ̷̲̼̬̰̼̝͖͌̿ ̷̧̢͈̩̙̜̰͙̯̝͔̲̲̩̰̤͎͎̦͒̇̐̈͂̋͗̿̿͑̚͝͝ ̵̢̢̧̗͚̩̱̭̺͕̬̥̣̤̥̦͇̫͇̝̥̜͖̜̤́͂ ̵͙̝͎̀̍̊̀̎̈́̅̔̐̎̾͂͆̌̐̇̉͗̋͋͘͘͝͝͝͝͝ͅ ̴̧̖̩̬͓̙̮͇͈̺̹͖́̌̀͊͑̊̓̿͂̅͒̊͋́͆̓͜͝͝͝͝ ̸̧͚͓̹̰̭͔͔̝͓͔̜̩͓̥̒̏̿́̈́̂͌̿͂̈́̍͊̿̂̀̓̾̚̚̕͜͠͝  ̶̢̢̺̻̳̭̘̩̙̼͍͈̣̰̠̠̹̑̈̔̈́͊̈́̉̏̏͆̓̃̕͝ͅ ̴̨̧̡̛͎̮̘̹̬͚̫̱̥̲͔͎͇͈̠̲͇̳̮̙̦̠͙͈̭̠͕͔͈͖͇̔̐̑͒́̔̒̈́̊̍͐̅͗͐͊̽̾́̑̉͌̾̀̀͌̾̚͘͜͜͝ͅͅͅͅ ̸̡̝̣̤̟͚̦͚̠̺̯̙̀̔́̓͗̔̓̀̕̚ ̸̨̨̡̞̩̠͔̰̱̦̦̝͎̦̖͉̩̜̱̰͎̗͓͌͑́́͜͜ ̷̧̪͎̦̞͇͍̗̠̯̦̪̯̠̥̿̈́̈͑̊̚̕͜ͅ ̵͍̗̮̹̪̦̬͇̣̻̭̻͒̒͛̾̈́̆̓̚ ̴̺̤̾́́̓̓̐̂̄͂̇͛̕  ̴̢̨̢̨̩͓͓̬̪̙͕͎̱̫̣̗͉̖̜̠͈͈̼̥̳̩̻͍̯̲̱̱̯͇̫͍̖͇͖̝͈̙̬̍̇͑̃̋̈́̐͊͌͑̚̚͘͠͝ͅ ̴̨̨̧̢̨̧̟̱̫͉̻̥̼̫̣͈͚̬̜̣̣̯̫̣̬̗͇̟̼̫͕̟̮͔̠̆̀͆̂̇̎͂̈̉̀̊͗͛́́̽͗͐͐̈̈́͐͂͂̇̈̆̊̃͂͊̋̒̎̎̈́̚̕͜͜͠ ̵̧̢̧̡̢̻̩̬̳͍̲̦̖͓͉̲̙͈͚̯͍̞̖̖̞̯̠̞̬̳̘̪͕̪̞̱̇̒̅̉́̊̃̉̀͜ͅ  ̸̧̢̨͓̞̘̦͐̓̐̀̈̿̈́̒̋͂̔͒̽͗̂́͗̓̐̑̄̐́̚͠͝͝ ̶̛̛̯̠̬͕̂́̎͛̊͒̎͑̃͑̋̈́͑̎͋͌͒͠͠ ̴̨̬̞̭͔̼̫͍͙̖͈̜̥̲̥͎̦͕̟͔̭̍͆͌̈̒̎̒̌̒͗͂̔͛̈́͆͂̈̈́̕͜͠ ̷̯̼̻͔̼̣͔̟̄̏͝ ̵̡̢̡̣̞͈̠̯̙͕͍̘̪͎͇̗̦̖̦̪͔̜̝͕͇͔̬̍ ̴̧̛͖̫͎̺͙̪̮̜̫̣̦̥̗͔͉̭̙͕̙͈̲̫̙̈́̎̍̿͂̆̄̔̈́̋̀́́̌̐͊̐͛̈̄̓͒̚͜ͅ ̷̧̧̨̡̱͖̰̣̬̤̤͔̘͔̟̬̳̦̬͙͎͕͖̘̖̭̤͑͆͑͒͋̌̃̂͒͑̑͛̆̉̏̍̓̓̾̚̚͘͝͠͠ͅ ̸̛̤́̓̀̄̇͑̾͗̋̓͛͒̄ ̴̧̞͔̭̠̩̮͉̫͕͈͈͎̻̰͍̳̲̞̳̘̾̄͛͊̒͑̈̍͛̑͋̔̏́̍̈̇̂̊̅̐̕͝ ̶̛̫̲͎̰͕̘̩͙͓͍̥͓̬̽̏͐͐̂̏̑̽́̂̽̂̉͑̑̾̂̄̽̂͋͠͝ ̷̖͎̩̙͚̖̟̬̬̖̱̣͕̽̿̓́͗̇͒̀͌͋̀͊̽͒͂͗̕̕͠ ̶̡̡̨̛̛͇͓̘͙̰̫͖͔͇̺̠̤͓̪͔͈͉̲̮̥̲͖̹̰͚̝͔͉͓̱͓͕̼͙̤̖̯̻͈̘̭͎̝́͒̅̏̊͂̅̈́́͗̋̕͝ͅͅͅ ̶̢̢̡̡̡̡̛̹̖̳̜̟̖̘͕͙̲̭͉͕̝̠̫̹̼̖̜͇̘̱͍̪̦͕̖̣̭̫̫̘̝̟̱͕̘͂̉͑͑̑̔͌̐̋̔̄̏̓͋̉͂̑̈́̐͊̾͂̉͘͘̕͘͘ͅ ̷̧̧̛̻̫̗͖̟̬͔̘̣͚͇̇͐̈́̃͗̑͛̇̀̋̏͌͋̀̅͋̍̓̏͋̋̉̕͘͘͜͝͝ ̶̧̧̻͖͙͚͉̰̜͓̮̲͚͕̩͚̣̱̙̘͖͓͍̺̮̙͛̐̓̕ͅ ̸̢̘̰͇̙̮̣͖̺̥̜̲̜͚̦̙̯͕͍͉̹̯̟̤͈͖̔̕͜ͅ ̶̧̡̛̛̝̤̳̲̼̣̬̭̲͓͖͇͔͙̽͊͆́͐͌͒̊́̀̂͊͊̈́̒̆͆̈́͌͌̕͠ ̴̠̫̞̗̤͈̂̄͛̈̒̍̈́̀̄̂̿̋̿̄̐͑̉̔̐̏͘͝͝͝ ̷̨̳̙̺̲̭̳̠̩̱̞̖̯̦̭̾͋̌̂̿̒̓̎͗ͅ ̷̧̢̡̹̘̘̝̝̦͚͉͚͕̖̳̞̫̝͓̩̣͓̮͓̙̘̌͒́̊͆͒̆̀͌͌͜ͅ ̷͚̮͇̘̱̯͍͙̙̯̝̤̲̠̯̫͓̱͍̱͖̃̾ ̵̞̫̠̹͙̪̩̠̞̟̫̀͆͊̃͋͐͋̀̽̈́̌̕̕ ̵̡̢̠̖̘̰̮̣̤̙̍̅̄͒̃͛͑͒͘̚͜ ̸̩̠̑̑͊͑̍̄̒̇́̉͗͂͒͋̽̌̕̚͘̚͝͠ ̴̡̧̢̞̼̘͙̣̤̲̫̠̺̦͍̼̼͍̺͈̝̥͕̖̹͛̇̍̈́̀̂̑̓̋̑͌̑̓̅́̊̍͗̄͆͑̔͘͜͝ ̵̢̨͙̙̺̇̀͛̆̈́̓̒̓̃̿̉́͆͂͝͝͠ͅ ̵̨̟͙̟͕̥̠̩̆̐͂̑̎̐͋̌̏͜͠ ̶̧̢̨̛̫͇̮͉͈̠̳̦̜̱̬̳̻̳̯͗̄̌̎̇̄̓̊̓̈́̉̾̾́̀̃̈́́̑̈͘̕͘ ̸̶̷̨̨̡̡̧̱̤̯̟̮̗̰͚̯̮̫͎͖̙̬͉̰̳͚͖͎̼̭̖͓̲̭̩͚̲̬̰̭̥̞̭̻̜̠̼̩̮̥̜̗̱͎̗̗̪̗̟̰̥͔̣̞̬͕͓̜͙̬̹̗̠͈̹̼̖͉̺̮͚͖̙̒̀̅̎͛̄̌̌͛̿̅̂̿́̓̿̄̈́͊͋̈͛͒̊͂̀͛͛́̋͋̀́̃̏̽̀̓̆͐̍́̆͌̎͆̋͋̎͊͆̈́̓́̓̀̇͂͊̀̕̚̕̕͝͝͝͠͠ ̸̧̛̛͕̲͔̜͉͇̂͑̅͛̊͑̄̽̈́͆͊̎̅̇̐̅̕͝ ̶̴̨̡̟̝͉̭̳̼̹͇̯͈̱͖̪͍̙̪͉̦͈̯̞̼͙̞̫̬̼̩̥̂̏̅̓̉̄̑̈́̒͂̃̊̔̓̃̔̎̆͌̍̓̀͐̀͊̐̑͆͊́͌́̋̈̍̑͐̐̕͘̕͜͠͠͠͠͝͝͝͝͝͝͝ ̷̛̜̉̇̑́̍̔̄̒̃̅̚̕̕͝͝ ̶̡̖̰̠͖̙̬͓͇̜͚̲̼̝̖̓͆̎͊̑̍͐̈́́͝ ̶̢̠̮̮̺̹͙̤̮͈͕͚̱̠͖͈̻́̓̉̓͐̉́͒́̓͌̌̌͒̑́̈́̕ ̵̨̘̲̩͙̫̗̖̟͎͍͉̤͕͙̞̮̼͍̜̪̯͎̉ ̷̢̢̢̡͉̮̪̠͍̗̞͙̰̞͍̼̠͖̭̳͈̜̥̍́̓̽͒̽͘͜͜͝ ̴̡̢̛̭̼͓͉̯̲̱̻̂̀̍ ̵̢̛̛̼͔͖̮̝̼̜̠̗̱̼͍̣̭͖̬̗̘͙̜̥̹̺̐͂̍̔̌́͒̐̌̈́͆̾̎̚͝͝͝ͅ ̷̡̯̦͚̝͇͍̳̝̗̟͚̠̯̹͚͙̺̦̭̼͕̉̆́̂̋͒̋͊͊̾͂̌̍̽͊ ̶̢̧̡̟͕̪̱̰͙̼̠̪̠̥͎̫̞͎͕̩͖̥͙̰̲̙̭̇̈́̓̒͒̄̉̊̒̿̾͑͒̂͘̕͜͝ ̷̶̢̧̨̢̲̠̘̙̩̫̣͓̼̺͚̲͔̜͎̜͙̜̗͕̻̖͂͋̑͛̓̏̄̇͒̑̎̊̃̾̋͗̂̈́͊̅̀̈́̾̊͆̍͗̿̽̕̕͠͠ ̶̧̖̤̟͚͍̼͕̟̦̗͇̠̜͍̿̍̆͂̅͆͘͠ͅ ̵̡̡̧̧̧̢͇̺͈̠̰̪̬̥͌̂͂̿̕̕͜

̴̛̹̥̲̤̈́̀̈́̎̚͜ͅ ̶̢̢̭̹̳̦̹̓͛́̏̀͆̅͒͒ ̵͔̙̫͚̹̯̰͔̹̠̄̋͜ ̷̝̫̱̮̳͉̟̞̣̀̂̈́̏̽́̌̀̈́͛ ̶͓̖̩̠͚͍̺̙̍̍̎͜ ̴̨̪͙̠͕̖̘̒̎̂̎̈́͌͑̏͋̀̊̚̚ ̶̺͙̱̘͎͛̀̅̓ͅ ̴̭̩͈̳̳͓̝͇̠̬̟͇̞̼̌̉̓͌̇̒̌ͅ ̵̧̛̦̻̬̯̖̹͙̤̅͆͒̐̑̐͘͜͠ ̶̢̢̢̘͙̥̗̖͎̲̝͓͚̰̽͆̌̍̽̋̎̆͑͜͜͝ ̷̨͉̾̓̀͛̅̈͑̔̓͒͌͝͝ ̴̨̨̞̹͔̭̟̀̑̽͊̃͑̄͋̓́̕ͅ  ̷̨̗͌̍̾̋̀͆͗̈́̃̉̽͒͘̚̚͠ ̸̢̨̲̪̠̪͓̻̿̅̈̈̇̚͠ ̴̛̤̦̣̤͎̲̖̩̓̒̑̽̒̚ ̷̰̖̫̱͎̓͋͛͑̀̇́̎̈́͌̂̎̒͝͠͝ ̸̡̧̯͛͌̐͑͌̓̐̇̀̋̆̃̂͘͝͝ ̵̡̡̺̩͓̺̫̫̺͎̫̝̝̓ ̶̨̦̠͙̦̞͉̬̹̯̰̭̏͐͠͝ ̷̢̢̙̺̹͓̪̄̉́͌̀͑͌̇̋̀́̈̈́̕ ̴̱͚̞̲̰̳͂͜ ̵̸̢̭̭̰̖̻̘̹̹̖̼̻͔͓͇͈͉͔͚͗̄̓̎̓̽̋̂̔̏̒͛͊̊͆͘͜ ̷̖̞̦̻͉̺͇͍̠̺͎̔̄̃̋̾͐͋̀̈́͆̈́͊̚͝ ̵̢̡̛̩̳͉̱̙̘̘̱͓̮̠͚͙̌͂̑̿̽̋̌́͊̍͠͝ ̷̪͍̞̋̎̏̈́̾̐͘͝ͅ ̵̛̞̫͇̗̑͊́ ̸̡̱̠̙̱͉̳̤̭̞̉̅̄͋̅͒ ̷̭̣̙̼̗̻̠̄̉̋̅̊̑͂͋̑̂̐̓̽̎͝ ̷̡̢̖͕͎̬̣̩͕͈̭͙̭̆̇̿̾̿̆̄͒̚͜ ̶̙̫̜̜̬̼̰̻͌̈́͑̓͛͑̓͐̋̀̎͜ͅ ̴̢̢͙̳̬̦͚̼͙̳̭̟͉̬̬̃̌ ̴̡̹̙̰̓͐̀̀̐̽̎̿͜ ̴̞͖̫̘̪̈́ ̵͍̝̠͉̀̈́͐͘͜ ̴̧̧̪̦͚̜̤̼̬͕̞̻̤̞͓̯̉̄̒ ̴̨̡͙̠͎͌̃̋͘ ̸̨̧̠̰͍̪̫͇̣̥̭͈͓̩̲̅͠ ̷̛͙͉͕̺̝̘̗̮̝̺̳͚͌͗͋̈́͐̐̂͛͠ ̸̨̦̼̘͖͑̀̓ ̴͓͋̅͛̇͊͗̕ ̷̨̨͔̓̓ ̶̨͔̣̣̭̺̞͔̌̏̀̄ͅ ̸̩͖͇̼̺̟̇̄̋̈́͋͑̍̽̌̆͘͘ ̴̢̛̛̜͚͔͚̼̬͇͓̻̙̱̪̪͇̀̎̆͆̽̍̈́̈́̉͂̐̇͠ ̸̧̤̪̲̝͇̫͎̯͈͐͑ ̶̮̟̯̘̟̳͗͌͋ ̴̨̨̨̹̪͔͔̳͇̗͚̥̀͒̂́͗̇̏̚̕ ̸̢̬̈́͂͑̏͛́͘ ̷̡̢͚͖̺͚̱̥̪̦̝̰͈̀̂̏̌̎́͛̒̃̇̀̿͘͜͝͠ͅ ̵̨̰͙͈͎͚͛̐̀͆̌ ̴̢̛̳̝͙͖̭͙̟̝͚̹̥̲̭͑͌̎̌́̏̀̽͘͘͜͝ ̶̢͖̲͕͉̗̭̭̭͇͍̜̼̞̆̅̈́͗́͂͐̈́̌̌̃̉̌̃̑͝ ̷̢̨̧̙͎̫̜̤̤̯̟̪̮̮̀̽͜ͅ ̴̨͚̪̅̒̊̓̐̉ ̴̪͈̫̗̜͗̿̄̕͜͝ ̷̢̪̯͕́̐́͌̒̌̒̕̚ ̴̠͍̥̞̰̣͖͙͂̌̔͑ ̸̡̲͉̰̪̱̫̰͖̰͔͍̜̱̬̥̅͐̈́͛̌͐̈́̑̊͗̋͌̈́̀̀̅ ̵̨̛͔̳͙̄̌̊͊́̒̎̿̐͑̕ ̵̡̩̖̣̬͐̈́̊̈́̕͝ ̶̨̢̺͚̲͔̜͎̜͙̜̗͕̻̖̾̊͆̍͗̿̽̕ ̶̧̖̤̟͚͍̼͕̟̦̗͇̠̜͍̿̍̆͂̅͆͘͠ͅ ̵̡̡̧̧̧̢͇̺͈̠̰̪̬̥͌̂͂̿̕̕͜

̴̛̹̥̲̤̈́̀̈́̎̚͜ͅ ̶̢̢̭̹̳̦̹̓͛́̏̀͆̅͒͒ ̵͔̙̫͚̹̯̰͔̹̠̄̋͜ ̷̝̫̱̮̳͉̟̞̣̀̂̈́̏̽́̌̀̈́͛ ̶͓̖̩̠͚͍̺̙̍̍̎͜ ̴̨̪͙̠͕̖̘̒̎̂̎̈́͌͑̏͋̀̊̚̚ ̶̺͙̱̘͎͛̀̅̓ͅ ̴̭̩͈̳̳͓̝͇̠̬̟͇̞̼̌̉̓͌̇̒̌ͅ ̵̧̛̦̻̬̯̖̹͙̤̅͆͒̐̑̐͘͜͠ ̶̢̢̢̘͙̥̗̖͎̲̝͓͚̰̽͆̌̍̽̋̎̆͑͜͜͝ ̷̨͉̾̓̀͛̅̈͑̔̓͒͌͝͝ ̴̨̨̞̹͔̭̟̀̑̽͊̃͑̄͋̓́̕ͅ ̸͓͇͈͉͔͚̎̓̽̋̂̔̏̒͛͊̊͆͘ ̷̖̞̦̻͉̺͇͍̠̺͎̔̄̃̋̾͐͋̀̈́͆̈́͊̚͝ ̵̢̡̛̩̳͉̱̙̘̘̱͓̮̠͚͙̌͂̑̿̽̋̌́͊̍͠͝ ̷̪͍̞̋̎̏̈́̾̐͘͝ͅ ̵̛̞̫͇̗̑͊́ ̸̡̱̠̙̱͉̳̤̭̞̉̅̄͋̅͒ ̷̭̣̙̼̗̻̠̄̉̋̅̊̑͂͋̑̂̐̓̽̎͝ ̷̡̢̖͕͎̬̣̩͕͈̭͙̭̆̇̿̾̿̆̄͒̚͜ ̶̙̫̜̜̬̼̰̻͌̈́͑̓͛͑̓͐̋̀̎͜ͅ ̴̢̢͙̳̬̦͚̼͙̳̭̟͉̬̬̃̌ ̴̡̹̙̰̓͐̀̀̐̽̎̿͜ ̴̞͖̫̘̪̈́ ̵͍̝̠͉̀̈́͐͘͜ ̴̧̧̪̦͚̜̤̼̬͕̞̻̤̞͓̯̉̄̒ ̴̨̡͙̠͎͌̃̋͘ ̸̨̧̠̰͍̪̫͇̣̥̭͈͓̩̲̅͠ ̷̛͙͉͕̺̝̘̗̮̝̺̳͚͌͗͋̈́͐̐̂͛͠ ̸̨̦̼̘͖͑̀̓ ̷̨̗͌̍̾̋̀͆͗̈́̃̉̽͒͘̚̚͠ ̸̢̨̲̪̠̪͓̻̿̅̈̈̇̚͠ ̴̛̤̦̣̤͎̲̖̩̓̒̑̽̒̚ ̷̰̖̫̱͎̓͋͛͑̀̇́̎̈́͌̂̎̒͝͠͝ ̸̡̧̯͛͌̐͑͌̓̐̇̀̋̆̃̂͘͝͝ ̵̡̡̺̩͓̺̫̫̺͎̫̝̝̓ ̶̨̦̠͙̦̞͉̬̹̯̰̭̏͐͠͝ ̷̢̢̙̺̹͓̪̄̉́͌̀͑͌̇̋̀́̈̈́̕ ̴̱͚̞̲̰̳͂͜ ̵̢̭̭̰̖̻̘̹̹̖̼̻͔͗̄̓͜ ̴͓͋̅͛̇͊͗̕ ̷̨̨͔̓̓ ̶̨͔̣̣̭̺̞͔̌̏̀̄ͅ ̸̩͖͇̼̺̟̇̄̋̈́͋͑̍̽̌̆͘͘ ̴̢̛̛̜͚͔͚̼̬͇͓̻̙̱̪̪͇̀̎̆͆̽̍̈́̈́̉͂̐̇͠ ̸̧̤̪̲̝͇̫͎̯͈͐͑ ̶̮̟̯̘̟̳͗͌͋ ̴̨̨̨̹̪͔͔̳͇̗͚̥̀͒̂́͗̇̏̚̕ ̸̢̬̈́͂͑̏͛́͘ ̷̡̢͚͖̺͚̱̥̪̦̝̰͈̀̂̏̌̎́͛̒̃̇̀̿͘͜͝͠ͅ ̵̨̰͙͈͎͚͛̐̀͆̌ ̴̢̛̳̝͙͖̭͙̟̝͚̹̥̲̭͑͌̎̌́̏̀̽͘͘͜͝ ̶̢͖̲͕͉̗̭̭̭͇͍̜̼̞̆̅̈́͗́͂͐̈́̌̌̃̉̌̃̑͝ ̷̢̨̧̙͎̫̜̤̤̯̟̪̮̮̀̽͜ͅ ̴̨͚̪̅̒̊̓̐̉ ̴̪͈̫̗̜͗̿̄̕͜͝ ̷̢̪̯͕́̐́͌̒̌̒̕̚ ̴̠͍̥̞̰̣͖͙͂̌̔͑ ̸̡̲͉̰̪̱̫̰͖̰͔͍̜̱̬̥̅͐̈́͛̌͐̈́̑̊͗̋͌̈́̀̀̅ ̵̨̛͔̳͙̄̌̊͊́̒̎̿̐͑̕ ̵̡̩̖̣̬͐̈́̊̈́̕͝ ̶̨̢̺͚̲͔̜͎̜͙̜̗͕̻̖̾̊͆̍͗̿̽̕ ̶̧̖̤̟͚͍̼͕̟̦̗͇̠̜͍̿̍̆͂̅͆͘͠ͅ ̵̡̡̧̧̧̢͇̺͈̠̰̪̬̥͌̂͂̿̕̕͜

 ̷̝̫̱̮̳͉̟̞̣̀̂̈́̏̽́̌̀̈́͛ ̶͓̖̩̠͚͍̺̙̍̍̎͜ ̴̨̪͙̠͕̖̘̒̎̂̎̈́͌͑̏͋̀̊̚̚ ̶̺͙̱̘͎͛̀̅̓ͅ ̴̭̩͈̳̳͓̝͇̠̬̟͇̞̼̌̉̓͌̇̒̌ͅ ̵̧̛̦̻̬̯̖̹͙̤̅͆͒̐̑̐͘͜͠ ̶̢̢̢̘͙̥̗̖͎̲̝͓͚̰̽͆̌̍̽̋̎̆͑͜͜͝ ̷̨͉̾̓̀͛̅̈͑̔̓͒͌͝͝ ̴̨̨̞̹͔̭̟̀̑̽͊̃͑̄͋̓́̕ͅ ̸͓͇͈͉͔͚̎̓̽̋̂̔̏̒͛͊̊͆͘ ̷̖̞̦̻͉̺͇͍̠̺͎̔̄̃̋̾͐͋̀̈́͆̈́͊̚͝ ̵̢̡̛̩̳͉̱̙̘̘̱͓̮̠͚͙̌͂̑̿̽̋̌́͊̍͠͝ ̷̪͍̞̋̎̏̈́̾̐͘͝ͅ ̵̛̞̫͇̗̑͊́ ̸̡̱̠̙̱͉̳̤̭̞̉̅̄͋̅͒ ̷̭̣̙̼̗̻̠̄̉̋̅̊̑͂͋̑̂̐̓̽̎͝ ̷̡̢̖͕͎̬̣̩͕͈̭͙̭̆̇̿̾̿̆̄͒̚͜ ̶̙̫̜̜̬̼̰̻͌̈́͑̓͛͑̓͐̋̀̎͜ͅ ̴̢̢͙̳̬̦͚̼͙̳̭̟͉̬̬̃̌ ̴̡̹̙̰̓͐̀̀̐̽̎̿͜ ̴̞͖̫̘̪̈́ ̵͍̝̠͉̀̈́͐͘͜ ̴̧̧̪̦͚̜̤̼̬͕̞̻̤̞͓̯̉̄̒ ̴̨̡͙̠͎͌̃̋͘ ̸̨̧̠̰͍̪̫͇̣̥̭͈͓̩̲̅͠ ̷̛͙͉͕̺̝̘̗̮̝̺̳͚͌͗͋̈́͐̐̂͛͠ ̸̨̦̼̘͖͑̀̓ ̷̨̗͌̍̾̋̀͆͗̈́̃̉̽͒͘̚̚͠ ̸̢̨̲̪̠̪͓̻̿̅̈̈̇̚͠ ̴̛̤̦̣̤͎̲̖̩̓̒̑̽̒̚ ̷̰̖̫̱͎̓͋͛͑̀̇́̎̈́͌̂̎̒͝͠͝ ̸̡̧̯͛͌̐͑͌̓̐̇̀̋̆̃̂͘͝͝ ̵̡̡̺̩͓̺̫̫̺͎̫̝̝̓ ̶̨̦̠͙̦̞͉̬̹̯̰̭̏͐͠͝ ̷̢̢̙̺̹͓̪̄̉́͌̀͑͌̇̋̀́̈̈́̕ ̴̱͚̞̲̰̳͂͜ ̵̢̭̭̰̖̻̘̹̹̖̼̻͔͗̄̓͜ ̴͓͋̅͛̇͊͗̕ ̷̨̨͔̓̓ ̶̨͔̣̣̭̺̞͔̌̏̀̄ͅ ̸̩͖͇̼̺̟̇̄̋̈́͋͑̍̽̌̆͘͘ ̴̢̛̛̜͚͔͚̼̬͇͓̻̙̱̪̪͇̀̎̆͆̽̍̈́̈́̉͂̐̇͠ ̸̧̤̪̲̝͇̫͎̯͈͐͑ ̶̮̟̯̘̟̳͗͌͋ ̴̨̨̨̹̪͔͔̳͇̗͚̥̀͒̂́͗̇̏̚̕ ̸̢̬̈́͂͑̏͛́͘ ̷̡̢͚͖̺͚̱̥̪̦̝̰͈̀̂̏̌̎́͛̒̃̇̀̿͘͜͝͠ͅ ̵̨̰͙͈͎͚͛̐̀͆̌ ̴̢̛̳̝͙͖̭͙̟̝͚̹̥̲̭͑͌̎̌́̏̀̽͘͘͜͝ ̶̢͖̲͕͉̗̭̭̭͇͍̜̼̞̆̅̈́͗́͂͐̈́̌̌̃̉̌̃̑͝ ̷̢̨̧̙͎̫̜̤̤̯̟̪̮̮̀̽͜ͅ ̴̨͚̪̅̒̊̓̐̉ ̴̪͈̫̗̜͗̿̄̕͜͝ ̷̢̪̯͕́̐́͌̒̌̒̕̚ ̴̠͍̥̞̰̣͖͙͂̌̔͑ ̸̡̲͉̰̪̱̫̰͖̰͔͍̜̱̬̥̅͐̈́͛̌͐̈́̑̊͗̋͌̈́̀̀̅ ̵̨̛͔̳͙̄̌̊͊́̒̎̿̐͑̕ ̵̡̩̖̣̬͐̈́̊̈́̕͝ ̶̨̢̺͚̲͔̜͎̜͙̜̗͕̻̖̾̊͆̍͗̿̽̕ ̶̧̖̤̟͚͍̼͕̟̦̗͇̠̜͍̿̍̆͂̅͆͘͠ͅ ̵̡̡̧̧̧̢͇̺͈̠̰̪̬̥͌̂͂̿̕̕͜

̸̧̢̨͓̞̘̦͐̓̐̀̈̿̈́̒̋͂̔͒̽͗̂́͗̓̐̑̄̐́̚͠͝͝ ̶̛̛̯̠̬͕̂́̎͛̊͒̎͑̃͑̋̈́͑̎͋͌͒͠͠ ̴̨̬̞̭͔̼̫͍͙̖͈̜̥̲̥͎̦͕̟͔̭̍͆͌̈̒̎̒̌̒͗͂̔͛̈́͆͂̈̈́̕͜͠ ̷̯̼̻͔̼̣͔̟̄̏͝ ̵̡̢̡̣̞͈̠̯̙͕͍̘̪͎͇̗̦̖̦̪͔̜̝͕͇͔̬̍ ̴̧̛͖̫͎̺͙̪̮̜̫̣̦̥̗͔͉̭̙͕̙͈̲̫̙̈́̎̍̿͂̆̄̔̈́̋̀́́̌̐͊̐͛̈̄̓͒̚͜ͅ ̷̧̧̨̡̱͖̰̣̬̤̤͔̘͔̟̬̳̦̬͙͎͕͖̘̖̭̤͑͆͑͒͋̌̃̂͒͑̑͛̆̉̏̍̓̓̾̚̚͘͝͠͠ͅ ̸̛̤́̓̀̄̇͑̾͗̋̓͛͒̄ ̴̧̞͔̭̠̩̮͉̫͕͈͈͎̻̰͍̳̲̞̳̘̾̄͛͊̒͑̈̍͛̑͋̔̏́̍̈̇̂̊̅̐̕͝ ̶̛̫̲͎̰͕̘̩͙͓͍̥͓̬̽̏͐͐̂̏̑̽́̂̽̂̉͑̑̾̂̄̽̂͋͠͝ ̷̖͎̩̙͚̖̟̬̬̖̱̣͕̽̿̓́͗̇͒̀͌͋̀͊̽͒͂͗̕̕͠ ̶̡̡̨̛̛͇͓̘͙̰̫͖͔͇̺̠̤͓̪͔͈͉̲̮̥̲͖̹̰͚̝͔͉͓̱͓͕̼͙̤̖̯̻͈̘̭͎̝́͒̅̏̊͂̅̈́́͗̋̕͝ͅͅͅ ̶̢̢̡̡̡̡̛̹̖̳̜̟̖̘͕͙̲̭͉͕̝̠̫̹̼̖̜͇̘̱͍̪̦͕̖̣̭̫̫̘̝̟̱͕̘͂̉͑͑̑̔͌̐̋̔̄̏̓͋̉͂̑̈́̐͊̾͂̉͘͘̕͘͘ͅ ̷̧̧̛̻̫̗͖̟̬͔̘̣͚͇̇͐̈́̃͗̑͛̇̀̋̏͌͋̀̅͋̍̓̏͋̋̉̕͘͘͜͝͝ ̶̧̧̻͖͙͚͉̰̜͓̮̲͚͕̩͚̣̱̙̘͖͓͍̺̮̙͛̐̓̕ͅ ̸̢̘̰͇̙̮̣͖̺̥̜̲̜͚̦̙̯͕͍͉̹̯̟̤͈͖̔̕͜ͅ ̶̧̡̛̛̝̤̳̲̼̣̬̭̲͓͖͇͔͙̽͊͆́͐͌͒̊́̀̂͊͊̈́̒̆͆̈́͌͌̕͠ ̴̠̫̞̗̤͈̂̄͛̈̒̍̈́̀̄̂̿̋̿̄̐͑̉̔̐̏͘͝͝͝  ̴̢̨̢̨̩͓͓̬̪̙͕͎̱̫̣̗͉̖̜̠͈͈̼̥̳̩̻͍̯̲̱̱̯͇̫͍̖͇͖̝͈̙̬̍̇͑̃̋̈́̐͊͌͑̚̚͘͠͝ͅ ̴̨̨̧̢̨̧̟̱̫͉̻̥̼̫̣͈͚̬̜̣̣̯̫̣̬̗͇̟̼̫͕̟̮͔̠̆̀͆̂̇̎͂̈̉̀̊͗͛́́̽͗͐͐̈̈́͐͂͂̇̈̆̊̃͂͊̋̒̎̎̈́̚̕͜͜͠ ̵̧̢̧̡̢̻̩̬̳͍̲̦̖͓͉̲̙͈͚̯͍̞̖̖̞̯̠̞̬̳̘̪͕̪̞̱̇̒̅̉́̊̃̉̀͜ͅ ̶̷̡̡̧͖͎̼̭̖͓̲̭̩͚̲̬̰̭̥̞̭̻̜̠̼̩̮̥̜̗̱͎̗̗̪̗̟̰̥͔̣̞̬͕͓̜͙̬̹̗̠͈̹̼̖͉̺̮͚͖̙̓̿̄̈́͊͋̈͛͒̊͂̀͛͛́̋͋̀́̃̏̽̀̓̆͐̍́̆͌̎͆̋͋̎͊͆̈́̓́̓̀̇͂͊̀̚̕̕͝͝͝͠͠ ̸̧̛̛͕̲͔̜͉͇̂͑̅͛̊͑̄̽̈́͆͊̎̅̇̐̅̕͝ ̶̨̟̝͉̭̳̼̹͇̯͈̱͖̪͍̙̂̏̅̓̉̄̑̈́̒͂̃̊̔̓̃̔̎̕͘̕͠͠͠͠͝͝͝ ̷̨̳̙̺̲̭̳̠̩̱̞̖̯̦̭̾͋̌̂̿̒̓̎͗ͅ ̷̧̢̡̹̘̘̝̝̦͚͉͚͕̖̳̞̫̝͓̩̣͓̮͓̙̘̌͒́̊͆͒̆̀͌͌͜ͅ ̷͚̮͇̘̱̯͍͙̙̯̝̤̲̠̯̫͓̱͍̱͖̃̾ ̵̞̫̠̹͙̪̩̠̞̟̫̀͆͊̃͋͐͋̀̽̈́̌̕̕ ̵̡̢̠̖̘̰̮̣̤̙̍̅̄͒̃͛͑͒͘̚͜ ̸̩̠̑̑͊͑̍̄̒̇́̉͗͂͒͋̽̌̕̚͘̚͝͠ ̴̡̧̢̞̼̘͙̣̤̲̫̠̺̦͍̼̼͍̺͈̝̥͕̖̹͛̇̍̈́̀̂̑̓̋̑͌̑̓̅́̊̍͗̄͆͑̔͘͜͝ ̵̢̨͙̙̺̇̀͛̆̈́̓̒̓̃̿̉́͆͂͝͝͠ͅ ̵̨̟͙̟͕̥̠̩̆̐͂̑̎̐͋̌̏͜͠ ̶̧̢̨̛̫͇̮͉͈̠̳̦̜̱̬̳̻̳̯͗̄̌̎̇̄̓̊̓̈́̉̾̾́̀̃̈́́̑̈͘̕͘ ̸̨̨̱̤̯̟̮̗̰͚̯̮̫͎͖̙̬͉̰̳͚̒̀̅̎͛̄̌̌͛̿̅̂̿́̕ ̷̡̧̨͔͕̺͖̙͇͎̻̮̺̱̥̗̹̰͚̘̞̂́̆̍̐̄̓͂͌̎̉͂̂̈́̀͛̓͘̚̚͝ ̸̡̛̹̳̥͉͓͓̼̝͍̱̳͖̼̻̦̝͙̜̯̩̰̑̋̈́̈͑̒̂ͅ ̷̛̦̫͚̯͚̬̭̪̞̘̺͈̼̠̟̝̰̲͖̓͂̆͐̎̑̀̾̀̾̋̾͂̈́̔͘̚͘͝͝͠ ̶̡̼̰̝̳̯͓̲̼̖̹͚̓  ̶̡̡̨̛̛͇͓̘͙̰̫͖͔͇̺̠̤͓̪͔͈͉̲̮̥̲͖̹̰͚̝͔͉͓̱͓͕̼͙̤̖̯̻͈̘̭͎̝́͒̅̏̊͂̅̈́́͗̋̕͝ͅͅͅ ̶̢̢̡̡̡̡̛̹̖̳̜̟̖̘͕͙̲̭͉͕̝̠̫̹̼̖̜͇̘̱͍̪̦͕̖̣̭̫̫̘̝̟̱͕̘͂̉͑͑̑̔͌̐̋̔̄̏̓͋̉͂̑̈́̐͊̾͂̉͘͘̕͘͘ͅ ̷̲̼̬̰̼̝͖͌̿ ̷̧̢͈̩̙̜̰͙̯̝͔̲̲̩̰̤͎͎̦͒̇̐̈͂̋͗̿̿͑̚͝͝ ̵̢̢̧̗͚̩̱̭̺͕̬̥̣̤̥̦͇̫͇̝̥̜͖̜̤́͂ ̵͙̝͎̀̍̊̀̎̈́̅̔̐̎̾͂͆̌̐̇̉͗̋͋͘͘͝͝͝͝͝ͅ ̴̧̖̩̬͓̙̮͇͈̺̹͖́̌̀͊͑̊̓̿͂̅͒̊͋́͆̓͜͝͝͝͝ ̸̧͚͓̹̰̭͔͔̝͓͔̜̩͓̥̒̏̿́̈́̂͌̿͂̈́̍͊̿̂̀̓̾̚̚̕͜͠͝  ̶̢̢̺̻̳̭̘̩̙̼͍͈̣̰̠̠̹̑̈̔̈́͊̈́̉̏̏͆̓̃̕͝ͅ ̴̨̧̡̛͎̮̘̹̬͚̫̱̥̲͔͎͇͈̠̲͇̳̮̙̦̠͙͈̭̠͕͔͈͖͇̔̐̑͒́̔̒̈́̊̍͐̅͗͐͊̽̾́̑̉͌̾̀̀͌̾̚͘͜͜͝ͅͅͅͅ ̸̡̝̣̤̟͚̦͚̠̺̯̙̀̔́̓͗̔̓̀̕̚ ̸̨̨̡̞̩̠͔̰̱̦̦̝͎̦̖͉̩̜̱̰͎̗͓͌͑́́͜͜ ̷̧̪͎̦̞͇͍̗̠̯̦̪̯̠̥̿̈́̈͑̊̚̕͜ͅ ̵͍̗̮̹̪̦̬͇̣̻̭̻͒̒͛̾̈́̆̓̚ ̴̺̤̾́́̓̓̐̂̄͂̇͛̕ ̴̡̪͉̦͈̯̞̼͙̞̫̬̼̩̥̆͌̍̓̀͐̀͊̐̑͆͊́͌́̋̈̍̑͐̐͜͝͝͝͝ ̷̛̜̉̇̑́̍̔̄̒̃̅̚̕̕͝͝ ̶̡̖̰̠͖̙̬͓͇̜͚̲̼̝̖̓͆̎͊̑̍͐̈́́͝ ̶̢̠̮̮̺̹͙̤̮͈͕͚̱̠͖͈̻́̓̉̓͐̉́͒́̓͌̌̌͒̑́̈́̕ ̵̨̘̲̩͙̫̗̖̟͎͍͉̤͕͙̞̮̼͍̜̪̯͎̉ ̷̢̢̢̡͉̮̪̠͍̗̞͙̰̞͍̼̠͖̭̳͈̜̥̍́̓̽͒̽͘͜͜͝ ̴̡̢̛̭̼͓͉̯̲̱̻̂̀̍ ̵̢̛̛̼͔͖̮̝̼̜̠̗̱̼͍̣̭͖̬̗̘͙̜̥̹̺̐͂̍̔̌́͒̐̌̈́͆̾̎̚͝͝͝ͅ ̷̡̯̦͚̝͇͍̳̝̗̟͚̠̯̹͚͙̺̦̭̼͕̉̆́̂̋͒̋͊͊̾͂̌̍̽͊ ̶̢̧̡̟͕̪̱̰͙̼̠̪̠̥͎̫̞͎͕̩͖̥͙̰̲̙̭̇̈́̓̒͒̄̉̊̒̿̾͑͒̂͘̕͜͝ ̷̶̢̧̨̢̲̠̘̙̩̫̣͓̼̺͚̲͔̜͎̜͙̜̗͕̻̖͂͋̑͛̓̏̄̇͒̑̎̊̃̾̋͗̂̈́͊̅̀̈́̾̊͆̍͗̿̽̕̕͠͠ ̶̧̖̤̟͚͍̼͕̟̦̗͇̠̜͍̿̍̆͂̅͆͘͠ͅ ̵̡̡̧̧̧̢͇̺͈̠̰̪̬̥͌̂͂̿̕̕͜

̸̧̢̨͓̞̘̦͐̓̐̀̈̿̈́̒̋͂̔͒̽͗̂́͗̓̐̑̄̐́̚͠͝͝ ̶̛̛̯̠̬͕̂́̎͛̊͒̎͑̃͑̋̈́͑̎͋͌͒͠͠ ̴̨̬̞̭͔̼̫͍͙̖͈̜̥̲̥͎̦͕̟͔̭̍͆͌̈̒̎̒̌̒͗͂̔͛̈́͆͂̈̈́̕͜͠ ̷̯̼̻͔̼̣͔̟̄̏͝ ̵̡̢̡̣̞͈̠̯̙͕͍̘̪͎͇̗̦̖̦̪͔̜̝͕͇͔̬̍ ̴̧̛͖̫͎̺͙̪̮̜̫̣̦̥̗͔͉̭̙͕̙͈̲̫̙̈́̎̍̿͂̆̄̔̈́̋̀́́̌̐͊̐͛̈̄̓͒̚͜ͅ ̷̧̧̨̡̱͖̰̣̬̤̤͔̘͔̟̬̳̦̬͙͎͕͖̘̖̭̤͑͆͑͒͋̌̃̂͒͑̑͛̆̉̏̍̓̓̾̚̚͘͝͠͠ͅ ̸̛̤́̓̀̄̇͑̾͗̋̓͛͒̄ ̴̧̞͔̭̠̩̮͉̫͕͈͈͎̻̰͍̳̲̞̳̘̾̄͛͊̒͑̈̍͛̑͋̔̏́̍̈̇̂̊̅̐̕͝ ̶̛̫̲͎̰͕̘̩͙͓͍̥͓̬̽̏͐͐̂̏̑̽́̂̽̂̉͑̑̾̂̄̽̂͋͠͝ ̷̖͎̩̙͚̖̟̬̬̖̱̣͕̽̿̓́͗̇͒̀͌͋̀͊̽͒͂͗̕̕͠ ̶̡̡̨̛̛͇͓̘͙̰̫͖͔͇̺̠̤͓̪͔͈͉̲̮̥̲͖̹̰͚̝͔͉͓̱͓͕̼͙̤̖̯̻͈̘̭͎̝́͒̅̏̊͂̅̈́́͗̋̕͝ͅͅͅ ̶̢̢̡̡̡̡̛̹̖̳̜̟̖̘͕͙̲̭͉͕̝̠̫̹̼̖̜͇̘̱͍̪̦͕̖̣̭̫̫̘̝̟̱͕̘͂̉͑͑̑̔͌̐̋̔̄̏̓͋̉͂̑̈́̐͊̾͂̉͘͘̕͘͘ͅ ̷̧̧̛̻̫̗͖̟̬͔̘̣͚͇̇͐̈́̃͗̑͛̇̀̋̏͌͋̀̅͋̍̓̏͋̋̉̕͘͘͜͝͝ ̶̧̧̻͖͙͚͉̰̜͓̮̲͚͕̩͚̣̱̙̘͖͓͍̺̮̙͛̐̓̕ͅ ̸̢̘̰͇̙̮̣͖̺̥̜̲̜͚̦̙̯͕͍͉̹̯̟̤͈͖̔̕͜ͅ ̶̧̡̛̛̝̤̳̲̼̣̬̭̲͓͖͇͔͙̽͊͆́͐͌͒̊́̀̂͊͊̈́̒̆͆̈́͌͌̕͠ ̴̠̫̞̗̤͈̂̄͛̈̒̍̈́̀̄̂̿̋̿̄̐͑̉̔̐̏͘͝͝͝  ̴̢̨̢̨̩͓͓̬̪̙͕͎̱̫̣̗͉̖̜̠͈͈̼̥̳̩̻͍̯̲̱̱̯͇̫͍̖͇͖̝͈̙̬̍̇͑̃̋̈́̐͊͌͑̚̚͘͠͝ͅ ̴̨̨̧̢̨̧̟̱̫͉̻̥̼̫̣͈͚̬̜̣̣̯̫̣̬̗͇̟̼̫͕̟̮͔̠̆̀͆̂̇̎͂̈̉̀̊͗͛́́̽͗͐͐̈̈́͐͂͂̇̈̆̊̃͂͊̋̒̎̎̈́̚̕͜͜͠ ̵̧̢̧̡̢̻̩̬̳͍̲̦̖͓͉̲̙͈͚̯͍̞̖̖̞̯̠̞̬̳̘̪͕̪̞̱̇̒̅̉́̊̃̉̀͜ͅ ̶̷̡̡̧͖͎̼̭̖͓̲̭̩͚̲̬̰̭̥̞̭̻̜̠̼̩̮̥̜̗̱͎̗̗̪̗̟̰̥͔̣̞̬͕͓̜͙̬̹̗̠͈̹̼̖͉̺̮͚͖̙̓̿̄̈́͊͋̈͛͒̊͂̀͛͛́̋͋̀́̃̏̽̀̓̆͐̍́̆͌̎͆̋͋̎͊͆̈́̓́̓̀̇͂͊̀̚̕̕͝͝͝͠͠ ̸̧̛̛͕̲͔̜͉͇̂͑̅͛̊͑̄̽̈́͆͊̎̅̇̐̅̕͝ ̶̨̟̝͉̭̳̼̹͇̯͈̱͖̪͍̙̂̏̅̓̉̄̑̈́̒͂̃̊̔̓̃̔̎̕͘̕͠͠͠͠͝͝͝ ̷̨̳̙̺̲̭̳̠̩̱̞̖̯̦̭̾͋̌̂̿̒̓̎͗ͅ ̷̧̢̡̹̘̘̝̝̦͚͉͚͕̖̳̞̫̝͓̩̣͓̮͓̙̘̌͒́̊͆͒̆̀͌͌͜ͅ ̷͚̮͇̘̱̯͍͙̙̯̝̤̲̠̯̫͓̱͍̱͖̃̾ ̵̞̫̠̹͙̪̩̠̞̟̫̀͆͊̃͋͐͋̀̽̈́̌̕̕ ̵̡̢̠̖̘̰̮̣̤̙̍̅̄͒̃͛͑͒͘̚͜ ̸̩̠̑̑͊͑̍̄̒̇́̉͗͂͒͋̽̌̕̚͘̚͝͠ ̴̡̧̢̞̼̘͙̣̤̲̫̠̺̦͍̼̼͍̺͈̝̥͕̖̹͛̇̍̈́̀̂̑̓̋̑͌̑̓̅́̊̍͗̄͆͑̔͘͜͝ ̵̢̨͙̙̺̇̀͛̆̈́̓̒̓̃̿̉́͆͂͝͝͠ͅ ̵̨̟͙̟͕̥̠̩̆̐͂̑̎̐͋̌̏͜͠ ̶̧̢̨̛̫͇̮͉͈̠̳̦̜̱̬̳̻̳̯͗̄̌̎̇̄̓̊̓̈́̉̾̾́̀̃̈́́̑̈͘̕͘ ̸̨̨̱̤̯̟̮̗̰͚̯̮̫͎͖̙̬͉̰̳͚̒̀̅̎͛̄̌̌͛̿̅̂̿́̕ ̷̡̧̨͔͕̺͖̙͇͎̻̮̺̱̥̗̹̰͚̘̞̂́̆̍̐̄̓͂͌̎̉͂̂̈́̀͛̓͘̚̚͝ ̸̡̛̹̳̥͉͓͓̼̝͍̱̳͖̼̻̦̝͙̜̯̩̰̑̋̈́̈͑̒̂ͅ ̷̛̦̫͚̯͚̬̭̪̞̘̺͈̼̠̟̝̰̲͖̓͂̆͐̎̑̀̾̀̾̋̾͂̈́̔͘̚͘͝͝͠ ̶̡̼̰̝̳̯͓̲̼̖̹͚̓  ̶̡̡̨̛̛͇͓̘͙̰̫͖͔͇̺̠̤͓̪͔͈͉̲̮̥̲͖̹̰͚̝͔͉͓̱͓͕̼͙̤̖̯̻͈̘̭͎̝́͒̅̏̊͂̅̈́́͗̋̕͝ͅͅͅ ̶̢̢̡̡̡̡̛̹̖̳̜̟̖̘͕͙̲̭͉͕̝̠̫̹̼̖̜͇̘̱͍̪̦͕̖̣̭̫̫̘̝̟̱͕̘͂̉͑͑̑̔͌̐̋̔̄̏̓͋̉͂̑̈́̐͊̾͂̉͘͘̕͘͘ͅ ̷̲̼̬̰̼̝͖͌̿ ̷̧̢͈̩̙̜̰͙̯̝͔̲̲̩̰̤͎͎̦͒̇̐̈͂̋͗̿̿͑̚͝͝ ̵̢̢̧̗͚̩̱̭̺͕̬̥̣̤̥̦͇̫͇̝̥̜͖̜̤́͂ ̵͙̝͎̀̍̊̀̎̈́̅̔̐̎̾͂͆̌̐̇̉͗̋͋͘͘͝͝͝͝͝ͅ ̴̧̖̩̬͓̙̮͇͈̺̹͖́̌̀͊͑̊̓̿͂̅͒̊͋́͆̓͜͝͝͝͝ ̸̧͚͓̹̰̭͔͔̝͓͔̜̩͓̥̒̏̿́̈́̂͌̿͂̈́̍͊̿̂̀̓̾̚̚̕͜͠͝  ̶̢̢̺̻̳̭̘̩̙̼͍͈̣̰̠̠̹̑̈̔̈́͊̈́̉̏̏͆̓̃̕͝ͅ ̴̨̧̡̛͎̮̘̹̬͚̫̱̥̲͔͎͇͈̠̲͇̳̮̙̦̠͙͈̭̠͕͔͈͖͇̔̐̑͒́̔̒̈́̊̍͐̅͗͐͊̽̾́̑̉͌̾̀̀͌̾̚͘͜͜͝ͅͅͅͅ ̸̡̝̣̤̟͚̦͚̠̺̯̙̀̔́̓͗̔̓̀̕̚ ̸̨̨̡̞̩̠͔̰̱̦̦̝͎̦̖͉̩̜̱̰͎̗͓͌͑́́͜͜ ̷̧̪͎̦̞͇͍̗̠̯̦̪̯̠̥̿̈́̈͑̊̚̕͜ͅ ̵͍̗̮̹̪̦̬͇̣̻̭̻͒̒͛̾̈́̆̓̚ ̴̺̤̾́́̓̓̐̂̄͂̇͛̕ ̴̡̪͉̦͈̯̞̼͙̞̫̬̼̩̥̆͌̍̓̀͐̀͊̐̑͆͊́͌́̋̈̍̑͐̐͜͝͝͝͝ ̷̛̜̉̇̑́̍̔̄̒̃̅̚̕̕͝͝ ̶̡̖̰̠͖̙̬͓͇̜͚̲̼̝̖̓͆̎͊̑̍͐̈́́͝ ̶̢̠̮̮̺̹͙̤̮͈͕͚̱̠͖͈̻́̓̉̓͐̉́͒́̓͌̌̌͒̑́̈́̕ ̵̨̘̲̩͙̫̗̖̟͎͍͉̤͕͙̞̮̼͍̜̪̯͎̉ ̷̢̢̢̡͉̮̪̠͍̗̞͙̰̞͍̼̠͖̭̳͈̜̥̍́̓̽͒̽͘͜͜͝ ̴̡̢̛̭̼͓͉̯̲̱̻̂̀̍ ̵̢̛̛̼͔͖̮̝̼̜̠̗̱̼͍̣̭͖̬̗̘͙̜̥̹̺̐͂̍̔̌́͒̐̌̈́͆̾̎̚͝͝͝ͅ ̷̡̯̦͚̝͇͍̳̝̗̟͚̠̯̹͚͙̺̦̭̼͕̉̆́̂̋͒̋͊͊̾͂̌̍̽͊ ̶̢̧̡̟͕̪̱̰͙̼̠̪̠̥͎̫̞͎͕̩͖̥͙̰̲̙̭̇̈́̓̒͒̄̉̊̒̿̾͑͒̂͘̕͜͝ ̷̶̢̧̨̢̲̠̘̙̩̫̣͓̼̺͚̲͔̜͎̜͙̜̗͕̻̖͂͋̑͛̓̏̄̇͒̑̎̊̃̾̋͗̂̈́͊̅̀̈́̾̊͆̍͗̿̽̕̕͠͠ ̶̧̖̤̟͚͍̼͕̟̦̗͇̠̜͍̿̍̆͂̅͆͘͠ͅ ̵̡̡͇̺͈̠͌̂͂̿̕̕

̴̛̹̥̲̤̈́̀̈́̎̚͜ͅ ̶̢̢̭̹̳̦̹̓͛́̏̀͆̅͒͒ ̵͔̙̫͚̹̯̰͔̹̠̄̋͜ ̷̝̫̱̮̳͉̟̞̣̀̂̈́̏̽́̌̀̈́͛ ̶͓̖̩̠͚͍̺̙̍̍̎͜ ̴̨̪͙̠͕̖̘̒̎̂̎̈́͌͑̏͋̀̊̚̚ ̶̺͙̱̘͎͛̀̅̓ͅ ̴̭̩͈̳̳͓̝͇̠̬̟͇̞̼̌̉̓͌̇̒̌ͅ ̵̧̛̦̻̬̯̖̹͙̤̅͆͒̐̑̐͘͜͠ ̶̢̢̢̘͙̥̗̖͎̲̝͓͚̰̽͆̌̍̽̋̎̆͑͜͜͝ ̷̨͉̾̓̀͛̅̈͑̔̓͒͌͝͝ ̴̨̨̞̹͔̭̟̀̑̽͊̃͑̄͋̓́̕ͅ ̸͓͇͈͉͔͚̎̓̽̋̂̔̏̒͛͊̊͆͘ ̷̖̞̦̻͉̺͇͍̠̺͎̔̄̃̋̾͐͋̀̈́͆̈́͊̚͝ ̵̢̡̛̩̳͉̱̙̘̘̱͓̮̠͚͙̌͂̑̿̽̋̌́͊̍͠͝ ̷̪͍̞̋̎̏̈́̾̐͘͝ͅ ̵̛̞̫͇̗̑͊́ ̸̡̱̠̙̱͉̳̤̭̞̉̅̄͋̅͒ ̷̭̣̙̼̗̻̠̄̉̋̅̊̑͂͋̑̂̐̓̽̎͝ ̷̡̢̖͕͎̬̣̩͕͈̭͙̭̆̇̿̾̿̆̄͒̚͜ ̶̙̫̜̜̬̼̰̻͌̈́͑̓͛͑̓͐̋̀̎͜ͅ ̴̢̢͙̳̬̦͚̼͙̳̭̟͉̬̬̃̌ ̴̡̹̙̰̓͐̀̀̐̽̎̿͜ ̴̞͖̫̘̪̈́ ̵͍̝̠͉̀̈́͐͘͜ ̴̧̧̪̦͚̜̤̼̬͕̞̻̤̞͓̯̉̄̒ ̴̨̡͙̠͎͌̃̋͘ ̸̨̧̠̰͍̪̫͇̣̥̭͈͓̩̲̅͠ ̷̛͙͉͕̺̝̘̗̮̝̺̳͚͌͗͋̈́͐̐̂͛͠ ̸̨̦̼̘͖͑̀̓ ̷̨̗͌̍̾̋̀͆͗̈́̃̉̽͒͘̚̚͠ ̸̢̨̲̪̠̪͓̻̿̅̈̈̇̚͠ ̴̛̤̦̣̤͎̲̖̩̓̒̑̽̒̚ ̷̰̖̫̱͎̓͋͛͑̀̇́̎̈́͌̂̎̒͝͠͝ ̸̡̧̯͛͌̐͑͌̓̐̇̀̋̆̃̂͘͝͝ ̵̡̡̺̩͓̺̫̫̺͎̫̝̝̓ ̶̨̦̠͙̦̞͉̬̹̯̰̭̏͐͠͝ ̷̢̢̙̺̹͓̪̄̉́͌̀͑͌̇̋̀́̈̈́̕ ̴̱͚̞̲̰̳͂͜ ̵̢̭̭̰̖̻̘̹̹̖̼̻͔͗̄̓͜ ̴͓͋̅͛̇͊͗̕ ̷̨̨͔̓̓ ̶̨͔̣̣̭̺̞͔̌̏̀̄ͅ ̸̩͖͇̼̺̟̇̄̋̈́͋͑̍̽̌̆͘͘ ̴̢̛̛̜͚͔͚̼̬͇͓̻̙̱̪̪͇̀̎̆͆̽̍̈́̈́̉͂̐̇͠ ̸̧̤̪̲̝͇̫͎̯͈͐͑ ̶̮̟̯̘̟̳͗͌͋ ̴̨̨̨̹̪͔͔̳͇̗͚̥̀͒̂́͗̇̏̚̕ ̸̢̬̈́͂͑̏͛́͘ ̷̡̢͚͖̺͚̱̥̪̦̝̰͈̀̂̏̌̎́͛̒̃̇̀̿͘͜͝͠ͅ ̵̨̰͙͈͎͚͛̐̀͆̌ ̴̢̛̳̝͙͖̭͙̟̝͚̹̥̲̭͑͌̎̌́̏̀̽͘͘͜͝ ̶̢͖̲͕͉̗̭̭̭͇͍̜̼̞̆̅̈́͗́͂͐̈́̌̌̃̉̌̃̑͝ ̷̢̨̧̙͎̫̜̤̤̯̟̪̮̮̀̽͜ͅ ̴̨͚̪̅̒̊̓̐̉ ̴̪͈̫̗̜͗̿̄̕͜͝ ̷̢̪̯͕́̐́͌̒̌̒̕̚ ̴̠͍̥̞̰̣͖͙͂̌̔͑ ̸̡̲͉̰̪̱̫̰͖̰͔͍̜̱̬̥̅͐̈́͛̌͐̈́̑̊͗̋͌̈́̀̀̅ ̵̨̛͔̳͙̄̌̊͊́̒̎̿̐͑̕ ̵̡̩̖̣̬͐̈́̊̈́̕͝ ̶̨̢̺͚̲͔̜͎̜͙̜̗͕̻̖̾̊͆̍͗̿̽̕ ̶̧̖̤̟͚͍̼͕̟̦̗͇̠̜͍̿̍̆͂̅͆͘͠ͅ ̵̡̡̧̧̧̢͇̺͈̠̰̪̬̥͌̂͂̿̕̕͜

  ̶̡̡̨̛̛͇͓̘͙̰̫͖͔͇̺̠̤͓̪͔͈͉̲̮̥̲͖̹̰͚̝͔͉͓̱͓͕̼͙̤̖̯̻͈̘̭͎̝́͒̅̏̊͂̅̈́́͗̋̕͝ͅͅͅ ̶̢̢̡̡̡̡̛̹̖̳̜̟̖̘͕͙̲̭͉͕̝̠̫̹̼̖̜͇̘̱͍̪̦͕̖̣̭̫̫̘̝̟̱͕̘͂̉͑͑̑̔͌̐̋̔̄̏̓͋̉͂̑̈́̐͊̾͂̉͘͘̕͘͘ͅ ̷̲̼̬̰̼̝͖͌̿ ̷̧̢͈̩̙̜̰͙̯̝͔̲̲̩̰̤͎͎̦͒̇̐̈͂̋͗̿̿͑̚͝͝ ̵̢̢̧̗͚̩̱̭̺͕̬̥̣̤̥̦͇̫͇̝̥̜͖̜̤́͂ ̵͙̝͎̀̍̊̀̎̈́̅̔̐̎̾͂͆̌̐̇̉͗̋͋͘͘͝͝͝͝͝ͅ ̴̧̖̩̬͓̙̮͇͈̺̹͖́̌̀͊͑̊̓̿͂̅͒̊͋́͆̓͜͝͝͝͝ ̸̧͚͓̹̰̭͔͔̝͓͔̜̩͓̥̒̏̿́̈́̂͌̿͂̈́̍͊̿̂̀̓̾̚̚̕͜͠͝  ̶̢̢̺̻̳̭̘̩̙̼͍͈̣̰̠̠̹̑̈̔̈́͊̈́̉̏̏͆̓̃̕͝ͅ ̴̨̧̡̛͎̮̘̹̬͚̫̱̥̲͔͎͇͈̠̲͇̳̮̙̦̠͙͈̭̠͕͔͈͖͇̔̐̑͒́̔̒̈́̊̍͐̅͗͐͊̽̾́̑̉͌̾̀̀͌̾̚͘͜͜͝ͅͅͅͅ ̸̡̝̣̤̟͚̦͚̠̺̯̙̀̔́̓͗̔̓̀̕̚ ̸̨̨̡̞̩̠͔̰̱̦̦̝͎̦̖͉̩̜̱̰͎̗͓͌͑́́͜͜ ̷̧̪͎̦̞͇͍̗̠̯̦̪̯̠̥̿̈́̈͑̊̚̕͜ͅ ̵͍̗̮̹̪̦̬͇̣̻̭̻͒̒͛̾̈́̆̓̚ ̴̺̤̾́́̓̓̐̂̄͂̇͛̕ ̴̡̪͉̦͈̯̞̼͙̞̫̬̼̩̥̆͌̍̓̀͐̀͊̐̑͆͊́͌́̋̈̍̑͐̐͜͝͝͝͝ ̷̛̜̉̇̑́̍̔̄̒̃̅̚̕̕͝͝ ̶̡̖̰̠͖̙̬͓͇̜͚̲̼̝̖̓͆̎͊̑̍͐̈́́͝ ̶̢̠̮̮̺̹͙̤̮͈͕͚̱̠͖͈̻́̓̉̓͐̉́͒́̓͌̌̌͒̑́̈́̕ ̵̨̘̲̩͙̫̗̖̟͎͍͉̤͕͙̞̮̼͍̜̪̯͎̉ ̷̢̢̢̡͉̮̪̠͍̗̞͙̰̞͍̼̠͖̭̳͈̜̥̍́̓̽͒̽͘͜͜͝ ̴̡̢̛̭̼͓͉̯̲̱̻̂̀̍ ̵̢̛̛̼͔͖̮̝̼̜̠̗̱̼͍̣̭͖̬̗̘͙̜̥̹̺̐͂̍̔̌́͒̐̌̈́͆̾̎̚͝͝͝ͅ ̷̡̯̦͚̝͇͍̳̝̗̟͚̠̯̹͚͙̺̦̭̼͕̉̆́̂̋͒̋͊͊̾͂̌̍̽͊ ̶̢̧̡̟͕̪̱̰͙̼̠̪̠̥͎̫̞͎͕̩͖̥͙̰̲̙̭̇̈́̓̒͒̄̉̊̒̿̾͑͒̂͘̕͜͝ ̷̶̢̧̨̢̲̠̘̙̩̫̣͓̼̺͚̲͔̜͎̜͙̜̗͕̻̖͂͋̑͛̓̏̄̇͒̑̎̊̃̾̋͗̂̈́͊̅̀̈́̾̊͆̍͗̿̽̕̕͠͠ ̶̧̖̤̟͚͍̼͕̟̦̗͇̠̜͍̿̍̆͂̅͆͘͠ͅ ̵̡̡͇̺͈̠͌̂͂̿̕̕ ̶̛̛̯̠̬͕̂́̎͛̊͒̎͑̃͑̋̈́͑̎͋͌͒͠͠ ̴̨̬̞̭͔̼̫͍͙̖͈̜̥̲̥͎̦͕̟͔̭̍͆͌̈̒̎̒̌̒͗͂̔͛̈́͆͂̈̈́̕͜͠ ̷̯̼̻͔̼̣͔̟̄̏͝ ̵̡̢̡̣̞͈̠̯̙͕͍̘̪͎͇̗̦̖̦̪͔̜̝͕͇͔̬̍ ̴̧̛͖̫͎̺͙̪̮̜̫̣̦̥̗͔͉̭̙͕̙͈̲̫̙̈́̎̍̿͂̆̄̔̈́̋̀́́̌̐͊̐͛̈̄̓͒̚͜ͅ ̷̧̧̨̡̱͖̰̣̬̤̤͔̘͔̟̬̳̦̬͙͎͕͖̘̖̭̤͑͆͑͒͋̌̃̂͒͑̑͛̆̉̏̍̓̓̾̚̚͘͝͠͠ͅ ̸̛̤́̓̀̄̇͑̾͗̋̓͛͒̄ ̴̧̞͔̭̠̩̮͉̫͕͈͈͎̻̰͍̳̲̞̳̘̾̄͛͊̒͑̈̍͛̑͋̔̏́̍̈̇̂̊̅̐̕͝ ̶̛̫̲͎̰͕̘̩͙͓͍̥͓̬̽̏͐͐̂̏̑̽́̂̽̂̉͑̑̾̂̄̽̂͋͠͝ ̷̖͎̩̙͚̖̟̬̬̖̱̣͕̽̿̓́͗̇͒̀͌͋̀͊̽͒͂͗̕̕͠ ̶̡̡̨̛̛͇͓̘͙̰̫͖͔͇̺̠̤͓̪͔͈͉̲̮̥̲͖̹̰͚̝͔͉͓̱͓͕̼͙̤̖̯̻͈̘̭͎̝́͒̅̏̊͂̅̈́́͗̋̕͝ͅͅͅ ̶̢̢̡̡̡̡̛̹̖̳̜̟̖̘͕͙̲̭͉͕̝̠̫̹̼̖̜͇̘̱͍̪̦͕̖̣̭̫̫̘̝̟̱͕̘͂̉͑͑̑̔͌̐̋̔̄̏̓͋̉͂̑̈́̐͊̾͂̉͘͘̕͘͘ͅ ̷̧̧̛̻̫̗͖̟̬͔̘̣͚͇̇͐̈́̃͗̑͛̇̀̋̏͌͋̀̅͋̍̓̏͋̋̉̕͘͘͜͝͝ ̶̧̧̻͖͙͚͉̰̜͓̮̲͚͕̩͚̣̱̙̘͖͓͍̺̮̙͛̐̓̕ͅ ̸̢̘̰͇̙̮̣͖̺̥̜̲̜͚̦̙̯͕͍͉̹̯̟̤͈͖̔̕͜ͅ ̶̧̡̛̛̝̤̳̲̼̣̬̭̲͓͖͇͔͙̽͊͆́͐͌͒̊́̀̂͊͊̈́̒̆͆̈́͌͌̕͠ ̴̠̫̞̗̤͈̂̄͛̈̒̍̈́̀̄̂̿̋̿̄̐͑̉̔̐̏͘͝͝͝  ̴̢̨̢̨̩͓͓̬̪̙͕͎̱̫̣̗͉̖̜̠͈͈̼̥̳̩̻͍̯̲̱̱̯͇̫͍̖͇͖̝͈̙̬̍̇͑̃̋̈́̐͊͌͑̚̚͘͠͝ͅ ̴̨̨̧̢̨̧̟̱̫͉̻̥̼̫̣͈͚̬̜̣̣̯̫̣̬̗͇̟̼̫͕̟̮͔̠̆̀͆̂̇̎͂̈̉̀̊͗͛́́̽͗͐͐̈̈́͐͂͂̇̈̆̊̃͂͊̋̒̎̎̈́̚̕͜͜͠ ̵̧̢̧̡̢̻̩̬̳͍̲̦̖͓͉̲̙͈͚̯͍̞̖̖̞̯̠̞̬̳̘̪͕̪̞̱̇̒̅̉́̊̃̉̀͜ͅ ̶̷̡̡̧͖͎̼̭̖͓̲̭̩͚̲̬̰̭̥̞̭̻̜̠̼̩̮̥̜̗̱͎̗̗̪̗̟̰̥͔̣̞̬͕͓̜͙̬̹̗̠͈̹̼̖͉̺̮͚͖̙̓̿̄̈́͊͋̈͛͒̊͂̀͛͛́̋͋̀́̃̏̽̀̓̆͐̍́̆͌̎͆̋͋̎͊͆̈́̓́̓̀̇͂͊̀̚̕̕͝͝͝͠͠ ̸̧̛̛͕̲͔̜͉͇̂͑̅͛̊͑̄̽̈́͆͊̎̅̇̐̅̕͝ ̶̨̟̝͉̭̳̼̹͇̯͈̱͖̪͍̙̂̏̅̓̉̄̑̈́̒͂̃̊̔̓̃̔̎̕͘̕͠͠͠͠͝͝͝ ̷̨̳̙̺̲̭̳̠̩̱̞̖̯̦̭̾͋̌̂̿̒̓̎͗ͅ ̷̧̢̡̹̘̘̝̝̦͚͉͚͕̖̳̞̫̝͓̩̣͓̮͓̙̘̌͒́̊͆͒̆̀͌͌͜ͅ ̷͚̮͇̘̱̯͍͙̙̯̝̤̲̠̯̫͓̱͍̱͖̃̾ ̵̞̫̠̹͙̪̩̠̞̟̫̀͆͊̃͋͐͋̀̽̈́̌̕̕ ̵̡̢̠̖̘̰̮̣̤̙̍̅̄͒̃͛͑͒͘̚͜ ̸̩̠̑̑͊͑̍̄̒̇́̉͗͂͒͋̽̌̕̚͘̚͝͠ ̴̡̧̢̞̼̘͙̣̤̲̫̠̺̦͍̼̼͍̺͈̝̥͕̖̹͛̇̍̈́̀̂̑̓̋̑͌̑̓̅́̊̍͗̄͆͑̔͘͜͝ ̵̢̨͙̙̺̇̀͛̆̈́̓̒̓̃̿̉́͆͂͝͝͠ͅ ̵̨̟͙̟͕̥̠̩̆̐͂̑̎̐͋̌̏͜͠ ̶̧̢̨̛̫͇̮͉͈̠̳̦̜̱̬̳̻̳̯͗̄̌̎̇̄̓̊̓̈́̉̾̾́̀̃̈́́̑̈͘̕͘ ̸̨̨̱̤̯̟̮̗̰͚̯̮̫͎͖̙̬͉̰̳͚̒̀̅̎͛̄̌̌͛̿̅̂̿́̕ ̷̡̧̨͔͕̺͖̙͇͎̻̮̺̱̥̗̹̰͚̘̞̂́̆̍̐̄̓͂͌̎̉͂̂̈́̀͛̓͘̚̚͝ ̸̡̛̹̳̥͉͓͓̼̝͍̱̳͖̼̻̦̝͙̜̯̩̰̑̋̈́̈͑̒̂ͅ ̷̛̦̫͚̯͚̬̭̪̞̘̺͈̼̠̟̝̰̲͖̓͂̆͐̎̑̀̾̀̾̋̾͂̈́̔͘̚͘͝͝͠ ̶̡̼̰̝̳̯͓̲̼̖̹͚̓

̸̧̢̨͓̞̘̦͐̓̐̀̈̿̈́̒̋͂̔͒̽͗̂́͗̓̐̑̄̐́̚͠͝͝ ̶̛̛̯̠̬͕̂́̎͛̊͒̎͑̃͑̋̈́͑̎͋͌͒͠͠ ̴̨̬̞̭͔̼̫͍͙̖͈̜̥̲̥͎̦͕̟͔̭̍͆͌̈̒̎̒̌̒͗͂̔͛̈́͆͂̈̈́̕͜͠ ̷̯̼̻͔̼̣͔̟̄̏͝ ̵̡̢̡̣̞͈̠̯̙͕͍̘̪͎͇̗̦̖̦̪͔̜̝͕͇͔̬̍ ̴̧̛͖̫͎̺͙̪̮̜̫̣̦̥̗͔͉̭̙͕̙͈̲̫̙̈́̎̍̿͂̆̄̔̈́̋̀́́̌̐͊̐͛̈̄̓͒̚͜ͅ ̷̧̧̨̡̱͖̰̣̬̤̤͔̘͔̟̬̳̦̬͙͎͕͖̘̖̭̤͑͆͑͒͋̌̃̂͒͑̑͛̆̉̏̍̓̓̾̚̚͘͝͠͠ͅ ̸̛̤́̓̀̄̇͑̾͗̋̓͛͒̄ ̴̧̞͔̭̠̩̮͉̫͕͈͈͎̻̰͍̳̲̞̳̘̾̄͛͊̒͑̈̍͛̑͋̔̏́̍̈̇̂̊̅̐̕͝ ̶̛̫̲͎̰͕̘̩͙͓͍̥͓̬̽̏͐͐̂̏̑̽́̂̽̂̉͑̑̾̂̄̽̂͋͠͝ ̷̖͎̩̙͚̖̟̬̬̖̱̣͕̽̿̓́͗̇͒̀͌͋̀͊̽͒͂͗̕̕͠ ̶̡̡̨̛̛͇͓̘͙̰̫͖͔͇̺̠̤͓̪͔͈͉̲̮̥̲͖̹̰͚̝͔͉͓̱͓͕̼͙̤̖̯̻͈̘̭͎̝́͒̅̏̊͂̅̈́́͗̋̕͝ͅͅͅ ̶̢̢̡̡̡̡̛̹̖̳̜̟̖̘͕͙̲̭͉͕̝̠̫̹̼̖̜͇̘̱͍̪̦͕̖̣̭̫̫̘̝̟̱͕̘͂̉͑͑̑̔͌̐̋̔̄̏̓͋̉͂̑̈́̐͊̾͂̉͘͘̕͘͘ͅ ̷̧̧̛̻̫̗͖̟̬͔̘̣͚͇̇͐̈́̃͗̑͛̇̀̋̏͌͋̀̅͋̍̓̏͋̋̉̕͘͘͜͝͝ ̶̧̧̻͖͙͚͉̰̜͓̮̲͚͕̩͚̣̱̙̘͖͓͍̺̮̙͛̐̓̕ͅ ̸̢̘̰͇̙̮̣͖̺̥̜̲̜͚̦̙̯͕͍͉̹̯̟̤͈͖̔̕͜ͅ ̶̧̡̛̛̝̤̳̲̼̣̬̭̲͓͖͇͔͙̽͊͆́͐͌͒̊́̀̂͊͊̈́̒̆͆̈́͌͌̕͠ ̴̠̫̞̗̤͈̂̄͛̈̒̍̈́̀̄̂̿̋̿̄̐͑̉̔̐̏͘͝͝͝  ̴̢̨̢̨̩͓͓̬̪̙͕͎̱̫̣̗͉̖̜̠͈͈̼̥̳̩̻͍̯̲̱̱̯͇̫͍̖͇͖̝͈̙̬̍̇͑̃̋̈́̐͊͌͑̚̚͘͠͝ͅ ̴̨̨̧̢̨̧̟̱̫͉̻̥̼̫̣͈͚̬̜̣̣̯̫̣̬̗͇̟̼̫͕̟̮͔̠̆̀͆̂̇̎͂̈̉̀̊͗͛́́̽͗͐͐̈̈́͐͂͂̇̈̆̊̃͂͊̋̒̎̎̈́̚̕͜͜͠ ̵̧̢̧̡̢̻̩̬̳͍̲̦̖͓͉̲̙͈͚̯͍̞̖̖̞̯̠̞̬̳̘̪͕̪̞̱̇̒̅̉́̊̃̉̀͜ͅ ̶̷̡̡̧͖͎̼̭̖͓̲̭̩͚̲̬̰̭̥̞̭̻̜̠̼̩̮̥̜̗̱͎̗̗̪̗̟̰̥͔̣̞̬͕͓̜͙̬̹̗̠͈̹̼̖͉̺̮͚͖̙̓̿̄̈́͊͋̈͛͒̊͂̀͛͛́̋͋̀́̃̏̽̀̓̆͐̍́̆͌̎͆̋͋̎͊͆̈́̓́̓̀̇͂͊̀̚̕̕͝͝͝͠͠ ̸̧̛̛͕̲͔̜͉͇̂͑̅͛̊͑̄̽̈́͆͊̎̅̇̐̅̕͝ ̶̨̟̝͉̭̳̼̹͇̯͈̱͖̪͍̙̂̏̅̓̉̄̑̈́̒͂̃̊̔̓̃̔̎̕͘̕͠͠͠͠͝͝͝ ̷̨̳̙̺̲̭̳̠̩̱̞̖̯̦̭̾͋̌̂̿̒̓̎͗ͅ ̷̧̢̡̹̘̘̝̝̦͚͉͚͕̖̳̞̫̝͓̩̣͓̮͓̙̘̌͒́̊͆͒̆̀͌͌͜ͅ ̷͚̮͇̘̱̯͍͙̙̯̝̤̲̠̯̫͓̱͍̱͖̃̾ ̵̞̫̠̹͙̪̩̠̞̟̫̀͆͊̃͋͐͋̀̽̈́̌̕̕ ̵̡̢̠̖̘̰̮̣̤̙̍̅̄͒̃͛͑͒͘̚͜ ̸̩̠̑̑͊͑̍̄̒̇́̉͗͂͒͋̽̌̕̚͘̚͝͠ ̴̡̧̢̞̼̘͙̣̤̲̫̠̺̦͍̼̼͍̺͈̝̥͕̖̹͛̇̍̈́̀̂̑̓̋̑͌̑̓̅́̊̍͗̄͆͑̔͘͜͝ ̵̢̨͙̙̺̇̀͛̆̈́̓̒̓̃̿̉́͆͂͝͝͠ͅ ̵̨̟͙̟͕̥̠̩̆̐͂̑̎̐͋̌̏͜͠ ̶̧̢̨̛̫͇̮͉͈̠̳̦̜̱̬̳̻̳̯͗̄̌̎̇̄̓̊̓̈́̉̾̾́̀̃̈́́̑̈͘̕͘ ̸̨̨̱̤̯̟̮̗̰͚̯̮̫͎͖̙̬͉̰̳͚̒̀̅̎͛̄̌̌͛̿̅̂̿́̕ ̷̡̧̨͔͕̺͖̙͇͎̻̮̺̱̥̗̹̰͚̘̞̂́̆̍̐̄̓͂͌̎̉͂̂̈́̀͛̓͘̚̚͝ ̸̡̛̹̳̥͉͓͓̼̝͍̱̳͖̼̻̦̝͙̜̯̩̰̑̋̈́̈͑̒̂ͅ ̷̛̦̫͚̯͚̬̭̪̞̘̺͈̼̠̟̝̰̲͖̓͂̆͐̎̑̀̾̀̾̋̾͂̈́̔͘̚͘͝͝͠ ̶̡̼̰̝̳̯͓̲̼̖̹͚̓  ̶̡̡̨̛̛͇͓̘͙̰̫͖͔͇̺̠̤͓̪͔͈͉̲̮̥̲͖̹̰͚̝͔͉͓̱͓͕̼͙̤̖̯̻͈̘̭͎̝́͒̅̏̊͂̅̈́́͗̋̕͝ͅͅͅ ̶̢̢̡̡̡̡̛̹̖̳̜̟̖̘͕͙̲̭͉͕̝̠̫̹̼̖̜͇̘̱͍̪̦͕̖̣̭̫̫̘̝̟̱͕̘͂̉͑͑̑̔͌̐̋̔̄̏̓͋̉͂̑̈́̐͊̾͂̉͘͘̕͘͘ͅ ̷̲̼̬̰̼̝͖͌̿ ̷̧̢͈̩̙̜̰͙̯̝͔̲̲̩̰̤͎͎̦͒̇̐̈͂̋͗̿̿͑̚͝͝ ̵̢̢̧̗͚̩̱̭̺͕̬̥̣̤̥̦͇̫͇̝̥̜͖̜̤́͂ ̵͙̝͎̀̍̊̀̎̈́̅̔̐̎̾͂͆̌̐̇̉͗̋͋͘͘͝͝͝͝͝ͅ ̴̧̖̩̬͓̙̮͇͈̺̹͖́̌̀͊͑̊̓̿͂̅͒̊͋́͆̓͜͝͝͝͝ ̸̧͚͓̹̰̭͔͔̝͓͔̜̩͓̥̒̏̿́̈́̂͌̿͂̈́̍͊̿̂̀̓̾̚̚̕͜͠͝  ̶̢̢̺̻̳̭̘̩̙̼͍͈̣̰̠̠̹̑̈̔̈́͊̈́̉̏̏͆̓̃̕͝ͅ ̴̨̧̡̛͎̮̘̹̬͚̫̱̥̲͔͎͇͈̠̲͇̳̮̙̦̠͙͈̭̠͕͔͈͖͇̔̐̑͒́̔̒̈́̊̍͐̅͗͐͊̽̾́̑̉͌̾̀̀͌̾̚͘͜͜͝ͅͅͅͅ ̸̡̝̣̤̟͚̦͚̠̺̯̙̀̔́̓͗̔̓̀̕̚ ̸̨̨̡̞̩̠͔̰̱̦̦̝͎̦̖͉̩̜̱̰͎̗͓͌͑́́͜͜ ̷̧̪͎̦̞͇͍̗̠̯̦̪̯̠̥̿̈́̈͑̊̚̕͜ͅ ̵͍̗̮̹̪̦̬͇̣̻̭̻͒̒͛̾̈́̆̓̚ ̴̺̤̾́́̓̓̐̂̄͂̇͛̕ ̴̡̪͉̦͈̯̞̼͙̞̫̬̼̩̥̆͌̍̓̀͐̀͊̐̑͆͊́͌́̋̈̍̑͐̐͜͝͝͝͝ ̷̛̜̉̇̑́̍̔̄̒̃̅̚̕̕͝͝ ̶̡̖̰̠͖̙̬͓͇̜͚̲̼̝̖̓͆̎͊̑̍͐̈́́͝ ̶̢̠̮̮̺̹͙̤̮͈͕͚̱̠͖͈̻́̓̉̓͐̉́͒́̓͌̌̌͒̑́̈́̕ ̵̨̘̲̩͙̫̗̖̟͎͍͉̤͕͙̞̮̼͍̜̪̯͎̉ ̷̢̢̢̡͉̮̪̠͍̗̞͙̰̞͍̼̠͖̭̳͈̜̥̍́̓̽͒̽͘͜͜͝ ̴̡̢̛̭̼͓͉̯̲̱̻̂̀̍ ̵̢̛̛̼͔͖̮̝̼̜̠̗̱̼͍̣̭͖̬̗̘͙̜̥̹̺̐͂̍̔̌́͒̐̌̈́͆̾̎̚͝͝͝ͅ ̷̡̯̦͚̝͇͍̳̝̗̟͚̠̯̹͚͙̺̦̭̼͕̉̆́̂̋͒̋͊͊̾͂̌̍̽͊ ̶̢̧̡̟͕̪̱̰͙̼̠̪̠̥͎̫̞͎͕̩͖̥͙̰̲̙̭̇̈́̓̒͒̄̉̊̒̿̾͑͒̂͘̕͜͝ ̷̶̢̧̨̢̲̠̘̙̩̫̣͓̼̺͚̲͔̜͎̜͙̜̗͕̻̖͂͋̑͛̓̏̄̇͒̑̎̊̃̾̋͗̂̈́͊̅̀̈́̾̊͆̍͗̿̽̕̕͠͠ ̶̧̖̤̟͚͍̼͕̟̦̗͇̠̜͍̿̍̆͂̅͆͘͠ͅ ̵̡̡͇̺͈̠͌̂͂̿̕̕

---

“Death leaves a heartache no one can heal, love leaves a memory no one can steal.”

- Richard Puz

Notes:

:) Happy times, just like I said!

Seriously, the writers of those games really had the right idea to stack plot twist after plot twist after plot twist mercilessly at the end, like man that was so much fun XD A shame that I had to forgo a bunch of set up and rush it a lot… but still fun.

I debated on whether or not to kill Cayenne because it would probably(?) affect the dynamic between the murderer and Musse, but I rewatched how the scene went in Cold Steel 2 and was like… Yeah, Vita was nice for giving you a warning, but this guy won’t. :D

Also I think you can predict the true reason why I titled this fic “Nameless’ Code.” Welcome to one of my most favorite tropes :3

Fun fact: I also contemplated killing Teo for Rean and Elise’s development, as well as Sara for Class VII’s development. Unfortunately, if I do major character death, I need the setup, the impact, and the grief + development—the whole shebang, else it don’t feel right to me. So I think purely because this was in an outline format, I spared their lives. If I had properly written this out, RIP lol.

Next is the Divertissement. I think it’ll be pretty short… Unless the temptation to fix Northern War’s plot is too strong lmao but that’s very unlikely lmao. I don’t know how that would even go with what has changed.

As always, take care!

Chapter 31: Divertissement

Notes:

Hey look, a relatively short chapter!

Warning: A lot of cussing, especially in Crow's part. Also, some suicidal ideation :3

Chapter 65 - Loopholes

[Scene 1 - Deduction]

His head hurts.

For the first time ever in his life, Lechter’s mind is in a fog. Pieces of information aren't quite fitting together, his gut intuition feels far away, and he wakes up from a nightmare of losing poker.

He jolts up, back aching from sleeping on his desk. Geez he's only in his mid twenties and he's having problems like this already? How do monsters like Osborne and Le Guin wave around their giant swords without breaking their back?

Wiping away drool from his face, he peels his crusted eyelids open to see a hot mess of papers on his desk. A tragically normal sight for the Captain of the Intelligence Division.

He groans. Too lazy to go to the bathroom to wash his face, he just splashes a cup of water into some tissues and wipes all his morning fatigue away.

Stretching and waving a yawn away, he finally opens his eyes again to look at the chaos in front of him. What was he working on again? Oh—

His eyes widen as he stares down at the files. The writing on them is pure gibberish; he can't comprehend a single scratch of words on the papers. Even the picture, which he could've sworn had been clear, is now completely blurred. No matter how much he digs into his memory, he can't remember a single piece of information from reading these documents last night. 

He's pretty sure he read these with no problem last night, right? He doesn't remember feeling perplexed or intrigued or… Is he finally going senile? Of course his genius would have a downside—

The shine of steel in his peripheral catches his attention, drawing his sights to a peculiar sword laying against his wall.

There's a block in his mind. An urge to look away.

 

A whisper to forget.

 

A headache crashes into him with the force of the Courageous when he pushes through the fog. Dammit, it hurts. It hurts.

It hurts.

Fuck. Lechter isn't strong, but he is stubborn—

The pain is worth it when there are pieces slowly, finally connecting together.

He… He remembers Osborne telling him to give that sword to the Ashen Saint, who he hasn't seen since the terrorist attack in Heimdallr. Wait, no, that had been the Black Rabbit back then. The real Ashen Saint had been MIA since last spring.

A torrent of confusion continuously washes over him. He could've sworn he had cracked the Ashen Saint’s identity. He… He remembers the absolute dumbfoundedness he had felt when Osborne gave him the mission to dig up the true identity because he knew they both knew the truth.

And now the truth has been erased. From his impeccable memory. From these official documents.

His mind is finally whirling up, bursting through the fog. It makes no sense… But it makes all the sense. The only explanation is that the Ashen Saint’s true identity has been erased. It sounds like something only possible in a novel, but since ol’ Osborne—the guy who survived a bullet to the heart—is still alive, Lechter knows that anything is possible.

The fact that Osborne had given him this mission in the first place means that he knew this was going to happen.

He lets out a big sigh. In no way does he get paid enough for this. 

On the other hand, a bizarre mystery like this gets him excited to crack the code. Having the right to boast about figuring out the identity of someone who doesn't exist is too good of an opportunity to pass up. Bannings would have a field day with this case… well, if he wasn't currently on the run.

Picking up the tachi, he unsheathes it for a moment, twirling it around and listening to the steel cut through the air. 

So sharp. So well-maintained. A tachi like this could belong to quite a few sword disciplines. He won't be able to deduct which school the Ashen Saint is from until he puts in his hands and sees if muscle memory works.

Hm… Would the Ashen Saint not have memories of his true identity? Does Osborne even know?

If they don't, then it makes sense why all the work is being piled into Lechter.

Sheathing the sword, he does a brief scan over all the documents on his desk. None of the writing is legible, but the structure clearly screams a student profile from Thors Military Academy. That's enough information to test a theory.

Taking out his ARCUS, he dials a familiar number. After a few rings, the call is picked up.

“Hi Lechter…”

The depressed tone catches him off guard. Millium's voice is always bright and cheerful, even when they call each other at the buttcrack of dawn. Never once has he heard her sound so… empty.

Feelings of emptiness often equate to loss.

Did she lose something?

“Hey.” He tries to sound not too upbeat, not too lazy. “What's got you so down, Millium?”

“I… I don't know…” He can hear a sniffle. A splash of a tear. “I think… I feel like I just lost Lammy. But that's not possible because Lammy is right here! So I don't know—”

Sobs ring out from the ARCUS.

Lechter runs through a quick list of things that would give Millium a sadness equivalent to losing her precious partner. Maybe if he or Claire died, but he's pretty damn sure they're both alive and kicking. There isn't any other answer that pops up in his head.

“How long have you been feeling sad?” he asks.

“I don't know…” Another sniffle. “When the war ended?”

The only things of any permanent significance to Millium that had occurred back then are that Armbrust killed Cayenne and was subsequently arrested for all his prior terrorist activities. It's not like the punishment on her classmate is severe, just be a government puppet for as long as needed.

So, the fact that Millium doesn't know what could cause her sadness… Is it because she has no insight or no memory of the cause?

The piece connects so easily.

He can't help the smirk splitting his face. Insensitive, yes, but it seems like a bunch of clues are falling straight for his lap and he doesn't have to lift a finger. Apparently, not even a wacky phenomenon powerful enough to erase a person's entire existence is a match for Lechter Arundel’s crazy intuition.

“Hey, off topic, but do you know if there's a student in Thors who wields a tachi— those long one-edged swords that the Divine Blades use?”

Millium's voice is still wobbly. “Um… No?”

There isn’t only a single reason why Millium wouldn’t know. It could be that the Ashen Saint’s true identity had already graduated from Thors way before she joined the school. It could be that there’s another student like Armbrust, secretly carrying another weapon for their alter ego to use.

But… The Ashen Saint already uses a standard, military-issued blade. There’s no need to use a different weapon to cover their identity. Plus, why would Osborne tell him to give this sword to the Ashen Saint to use from now on? 

His gut screams a dangerous assumption to him, and he's not going to make any effort to wave it away. His intuition has never failed him and he won't just shrug it off now. Especially when the pain in his head is only getting more intense.

This pain… can't be normal.

It's like the culprit is telling him he's getting warmer and hotter and closer to the truth.

Lechter laughs, uncaring of the pain as he doesn't stop his mind from arriving to a simple conclusion.

The Ashen Saint joined Thors Military Academy last year, explaining their need for a substitute since last spring. They were probably in Class VII, the same class Millium joined, forming a close enough attachment for her to grieve over his loss even without any memory of him. 

Case solved. Easy peasy. Even the headache begins to subside. Whatever this supernatural phenomenon is, it's not so subtle, huh?

Except not.

Being a member of Class VII and a student of Thors Military Academy is hardly an identity, an answer. That doesn’t explain why the Ashen Saint is an Ironblood, nor why Osborne is so invested in making sure his true identity isn’t lost when some weird phenomenon is trying to destroy it. 

The only thing he can really do with this information is convince Millium that she lost a friend she can’t remember. He won't tell her that said friend might be the Ashen Saint though. The Ashen Saint’s true identity has clearly been erased from existence for a reason, it would be stupid to try undoing that without knowing what exactly he’s up against. The last thing he needs is for him or Millium to be erased as well.

“Hey, Millium. I gotta go, but let's talk over some ice cream soon, okay?”

“Okay…”

CLICK

Shuffling all the papers into a folder and slides it into one of his drawers. He pulls his jacket on, gulps down a painkiller, and heads straight to Valflame Palace.

 

[Fade in, Fade Out]

Her mind is a haze.

“The process has put too much strain on his body. Any more and he'll be useless.” There's an impatient sigh. “This is why I'd rather deal with machines or homunculi. They can break, but at least they're replaceable. Alisa, go take care of him.”

The response is pulled out of her automatically. “Yes, Father.”

Alberich huffs before turning toward the exit, his footsteps echoing loudly through the room before the doors shut behind him.

Silence befalls the room as Alisa feels strings pull at her joints to fulfill the order. She is moved toward a table where a body rests.

It's wearing plain clothes, though bandages hug nearly every inch of its skin. Unruly white hair cascades way past its shoulders. Its skin is too pale.

She blinks.

Invisible strings are pulled taut around her, but they all snap when she feels struck by a bolt of lightning. With it, comes a flood of rain.

A storm of grief.

Eyes wide, she falls to the ground and looks all around. She's surrounded by technology she's never seen before, alone with a person she's never seen before.

Her heart is thundering.

The last thing she remembers is sitting on a bench at Heimdallr, letting the rain drench her. Aidios knows why she had been there in the first place, because she sure as hell doesn't know.

Then… Then… Not-father— Professor Lughman— Black Alberich or whatever name he wants to go by— had approached her.

The rest is blank. She has no clue how she got here or where she is. She has no clue why she had been following Alberich’s orders. It's like she's being controlled. Like…

The Nord Highlands field study. Gaius’ whole tribe had been mind controlled and they had no memory of what they did while being controlled.

Is the same thing happening to her?

Alisa tries rummaging through her clothes for an ARCUS to call someone or a mirror to find a mark on her body, but comes back empty-handed.

Oh, she's in big trouble.

However, she won't not count her blessings. She's aware of herself right now. Whether that's intentional or due to some miracle, she doesn't know, but she's grateful all the same. Even if she forgets this moment later, maybe she can do something right now?

She sighs, getting ready to stand back up. However, when she tilts her head up, she sees the body on the table sitting up. A frenzied gleam of golden eyes is the first thing she processes before she's slammed down to the ground.

Air is choked out of her lungs as a pair of hands squeeze around her throat. She kicks up and grabs the hands to pull them away— and they do. Quite easily, in fact.

Her assailant leaps away from her, slamming his back against the metal table. The impact causes the table to shake.

Alisa’s eyebrows furrow, looking at the stranger now groaning and clutching at their head. Something about him is familiar.

Something about him makes her feel… incredibly sad, actually. The sight of him is ripping her heart apart and calling tears to bead at the corners of her eyes. There's an urge to reach out to this stranger—

The table stops shaking and something falls off from it, clanking as it hits the ground.

A black mask.

It reminds her of another masked individual, who has long white hair… Though she could’ve sworn his eyes were supposed to be red.

“The Ashen Saint..?”

The stranger grunts, dull eyes steadying to stare directly at her. The frenzied look from before is gone, replaced by an eerie calm.

“I… remember…” he mutters.

Alisa flinches away when the stranger suddenly breaks out into a manic fit of laughter. He drags his hand down his face, only letting a twisted smirk show.

The words that come out of his mouth, however, are spat out like venom. “What a flawed curse.”

“Ummm…” Really, what is Alisa supposed to do in this situation? “Are you okay?”

He laughs again, though it rings hollowly. “You should worry more about yourself, gnome descendant who is marked with an artificial stigma. If you do nothing, you'll remain a mere pawn to forever struggle when you fade in, helpless when you fade out.”

He looks down at the mask.

“...Just like me.”

He says it so solemnly. It makes her fear of this stranger dissipate a bit, even though she can feel a bruise form on her neck.

Urged on by unexplainable grief and a sparkle of curiosity, she asks, “Who are you?”

He shakes his head. “That doesn't matter. You will likely forget this encounter later, as will I.”

Alisa frowns. Forget. She doesn't like that word being thrown so carelessly, especially when it reminds her of Alberich's words a long time ago…

.

"Respect. Loyalty. Affection. Connection. All given unconditionally because of love. For such a powerful emotion that is not even held down by reason, you would think at least one of these characteristics would transcend memory."

"But I don't feel anything for you, Alisa. Nor for your grandfather, nor for your mother. If I'm truly your father and yet I don't feel anything for you, maybe that means I never loved—”

.

Still, Alisa is not special by any means. She doesn't know much about the mechanics of artificial stigmas, but she doubts there's any difference in her physiology that would make her more resistant to it than the people of Nord. The fact that she's self aware after being given a task from Alberich can't be a mistake. Maybe, somewhere deep inside, Father is still…

No. She won't get her hopes up right now. Not while she has no actual proof. 

But, there is a way to get proof. The opportunity is waiting right there in front of her.

“I won't forget.” There's a surge of confidence and pure spite bursting through her veins. “We're not machines. I want to prove that, even when memories are lost, a connection will still exist.”

The Ashen Saint snorts. “That's assuming that a connection already exists. We are but mere strangers to each other.”

“Then let's change that.” She shifts to sit closer to him, holding her hand out. “Let's be friends.”

A deadpan is shot at her. 

“Are you dumb or have you forgotten that I attempted to choke you to death earlier?”

“Well, I definitely won't forget that,” Alisa retorts with a roll of her eyes. “But, like you said, we're in the same boat: Under the control of someone else with only brief moments of clarity. I think we have something to gain from enjoying each other's company.”

“So, just because we’re both trapped, you want us to become so-called friends? How foolish.”

She leers at him. “Wow, you must have no friends.”

“I don't,” he states bluntly. Still, his bandaged hand takes hers. “But, just because you insulted me, I'll show you why I have no friends.”

She huffs. “Well then, I'll show you why I have plenty of friends.”

They shake each other's hand with heated glares.

“By the way, my name is Alisa Reinford. What should I call you? The Ashen Saint?”

There's a look of repulsion in his face. “No, Ashen Saint sounds too refined. It will also be confusing when…” He lifts a finger to tap his chin, pensive. “I could go by… hm… It's still wrong… but the fact that some of my memories are intact means I was never… I guess this name is better fitting than anything else…”

A shark-like grin spreads on his face.

“You may call me Ishmelga.”

The name tickles her brain. Isn't that the same name as some evil Divine Knight Emma and Gaius had talked about some time ago? 

Is this some kind of coincidence?

“Well, nice to meet you, Ishmelga.” She pulls away and stands up, placing her hands on her hips. “Now, what should I— Hey!”

Ishmelga, in an attempt to stand up, stumbles back down to the ground. A frustrated click of his tongue is heard. “I believe you should be doing the damn job Alberich gave you. This body won’t move to my demands…” 

“Your body seemed to move perfectly fine back when you tried to choke me to death,” she grumbled, squatting down in front of him. Judging by how thin he is and how weak his grip had been earlier, she doesn’t doubt her ability to assist him. “Here, grab onto my shoulders. I’ll help lift you up so you can sit back on this table.” 

“What’s the difference between the floor and the table anyway? They’re both awfully cold and uncomfortable.”

Her teeth grit as she forces out a smile. “Do you want to get up or not?”

Ishmelga grumbles but ultimately grabs her shoulders. One… Two… Their legs push against the ground so that they end up standing. Despite how he clearly has some height over her, he doesn’t weigh as much as she expects. While her muscles do strain, she’s able to seat him back onto the edge of the table. 

“There…” she heaves out an exhausted breath. “Now—”

The bandages on Ishmelga’s forearms slip off, revealing scars of all kinds. Clean, jagged. Long, short.

“What..?” 

A bitter smile twists the bottom half of his face. “Who knows. This body is just full of lost memories.” 

It's that phrasing again. He speaks as if this isn't his body. He speaks as if his memories have been tampered. 

It's painfully obvious that there's something wrong with this guy. Not to mention, he acts nothing like how she remembers the Ashen Saint. In her memory, he was quiet, reserved, but definitely spoke with kindness and respect.

Meanwhile, this guy is difficult, whiny, and outright rude.

There's no way they're the same, yet he hasn't bothered confirming or denying the title. What could possibly—

“I can hear you thinking from here,” he sighs, glaring at her. “I won't bother answering any of your questions until you prove to me that you won't forget this moment. So, unless you want to waste our time, I suggest you get to this ridiculous friendship stuff already.”

“Okay, fine!” Alisa turns around and crosses her arms. 

She clearly won't get anymore information about his background and there's only so much she can say about herself without making this a one-sided conversation. The other way to build a bond is to engage in mutual interests then. 

“So, is there anything you like doing?”

Casually, he counts off his fingers. “Killing worthless beings. Watching the light fade from my victim’s eyes. Sharpening my blade with the bones of the fallen…”

“Is there ANYTHING unrelated to violence?” Aidios, is she about to befriend an absolute psychopath?

His lips pull into a frown. Dull eyes grow distant as he stares into the space in front of him. Seconds pass. Minutes pass.

Alisa starts thinking that this is a mistake, but he eventually speaks with… fondness.

“I have a memory. Of a golden-haired woman who would read stories to me at night.” He closes his eyes. His hand drifts to cover the scars on his other arm. “Despite how mundane it was, I… Enjoyed those times.”

Huh. It’s comforting to know that even a guy with such… violent tendencies isn't immune to the charm of such an innocent childhood activity.

Alisa looks around for any books and of course there are none. In fact, there's nothing of any interest here. Just black walls and black floors etched with strange computer circuit-esque designs.

How in the world does Alberich expect her to fulfill her mission when there's nothing here that can be used to take care of another person? No food. No blanket. No anything. Seriously?

“Well, there are no books here to read…” She'll figure out the food and comfort later, if she even has enough time. “But, I can tell you about the stories of some books I've read. What kind of stories are you interested in?”

Ishmelga hums, leaning back against his arms. Another long pause follows.

“Tell me a story about love.”

It's the last answer she would ever expect to hear from him. It's also… sweet.

“Not like I'd expect a brash girl like you to know anything about it.”

And there’s the scathingly rude comment.

Unfortunately for him, Alisa has read a whole arsenal of books about love. Whether it's romantic, platonic, or familial, she's always been drawn to these types of stories. Maybe the reason is because she longs for the love that's been denied to her by her family, but it's nice to dream.

Maybe Ishmelga, too, longs for what he lacks…

She takes a seat beside him.

Love. A story about love…

The first person that pops into her mind about love stories is Crow. Which is silly because she's never seen the guy ever successfully date anyone, especially when his attempts to flirt with any and every girl always fails. Plus, given the position he's been forced in by the chancellor, she doubts he'll have any time for love…

She pushes the thought aside. 

“Once upon a time, there was a magical girl who was friends with a demon prince…”

It's a long story. Her throat goes dry and she wonders if her audience is even paying attention when she can see him twitch, like he's trying to stay awake. When he completely slumps against her side, she stops.

Go figure that the guy obsessed with stabbing things isn’t interested in people shooting heart magic at demons. Though maybe she should be more concerned with how this guy just spontaneously decided that she was his pillow. They literally just met. Does he have no shame—

“Why did you stop?” he grumbles lethargically.

“I thought you weren’t interested,” she says, not wanting to talk about something she likes with someone who won't appreciate it. “I guess the story can be overly convoluted for some people.”

“Convoluted? This is the most rudimentary story I’ve ever heard.”

A pause.

“Still, the idea has value. To have someone love you so much that they're willing to do anything to save you?” He glances down at his hands before staring into the distance. “It sounds pleasant.”

Again, Alisa finds herself surprised by the duality between his cold attitude and his longing for warm, innocent concepts. It reminds her of herself when she first started Thors, especially when she acted around… 

Around…

.

.

.

Ugh, her head hurts.

Regardless, this makes Alisa more determined to give this guy a chance, even if he does present himself to be some bloodthirsty monster. 

Nudging him off with her shoulder, she says, “Okay, but can you get off of me first?”

“You're the only damn warm and soft thing in this godforsaken cold and hard place. No.”

Nevermind. This guy is too insufferable. Though now that he mentions it, she can't feel even a spark of warmth coming from his body.

Is he even human?

“Fine.”

It takes hours for the story to finish, ending with a bittersweet touch. Curse how there must always be a price to pay for saving the world in these stories. However, judging from Ishmelga’s comments, he seems to have enjoyed the direction of the story and demands for more.

What a handful.

But, because Alisa wants to make this strange star-crossed friendship work, she tells another love story.

And another.

.

Another.

.

Until Alisa feels something burning on her neck, causing the haze to roll back. 

.

.

Until Black Alberich returns and fits the mask perfectly over Ishmelga’s face. 

.

.

.

And thus, they fade out.

 

[Foreign Connections]

“Heed my call, Valimar…”

Lights flicker on. The darkness erodes away. Energy whirls through his armored body and Valimar lifts off.

And returns to the ground after two seconds of air time. 

It’s purely his programming that makes him kneel down in front of his Awakener… even though there is not one string of data in his memory that explains the how, when, and who his Awakener is. He recalls no trial, no contract in the past however many years. His last contractor had been Dreichels, not this masked young man standing before him. 

Is his memory corrupted? 

Or have these people found a way to bypass the Divine Knight Trial and Awakening?

“It appears that there’s no issue with his functionality,” states the taller man standing beside the Awakener. Valimar recognizes him immediately from his memories with past Awakeners. Black Alberich, or so the man had called himself before. “Though I’m surprised that there’s no hint of the curse’s influence on him, considering you’re…” 

The Awakener tilts his head. “Is there something wrong?”

“It’s nothing,” Black Alberich shrugs and begins to walk away. “Just sync up with each other. I have something else to attend to, so find me later if you find any abnormalities. If not, then go back to your quarters. Lord Ishmelga and Osborne will see you later.”

When the man leaves the room, Valimar dares to ask, “Have we met before?”

The answer is swift.

“No.”

The answer must also be a lie because when the Awakener pilots him, their movements are smooth, purposeful, and unwasted. The Awakener handles the controls like an expert, even when they test out more complicated actions like aerial maneuvers or combat specific to the Awakener’s style. Valimar also finds that he has no issue adapting to the Awakener’s unique movements. 

How strange. Usually, when an Awakener successfully makes a contract with a Divine Knight, it takes time and practice for each to adjust to the other, usually facilitated by the help of a witch. Even a man as capable as Dreichels took a couple weeks mastering his piloting skills. 

In no way is it possible for Valimar and this Awakener to be completely in sync within their first hour of meeting each other. Either the Awakener is lying or—

A warning sign flashes on the side of their screen. It shows the vital signs. All are stable, except his body temperature is below normal limits and…

The heart rate is zero. 

Nothing about this Awakener makes any logical sense. Not only that, but the more that Valimar digs into his own system, the more things he finds about himself that don’t make any sense. While this Awakener is his primary contractor, it appears that Valimar has several secondary contracts. Eleven of them to be exact.

These secondary contracts appear to be dormant, but not discontinued. He can only conclude that those contractors are still alive…

Hm.

Still, while Valimar cannot process the discrepancies spread throughout the gaps in his system, it is not in his duty to question his Awakener, no matter how suspicious they may be. If they have fought together before, if Valimar had actively chosen this Awakener sometime in the forgotten past, then he cannot doubt their bond.

What he can doubt, however, is the situation. Divine Knights are tuned to their Awakeners in every single way. They embody the way Awakeners hold themselves, their styles of fighting, their ambition, and their emotions. So, if they’re already 100% synced, then why can he sense none of the latter from the Awakener?

Psychologically-wise, he’s a blank space.

Such things are vulnerable. So easily manipulated. Black Alberich is a master at manipulation.

Valimar does not know what is right or what is wrong in this ever-changing world ruled by man, but he believes that even his odd Awakener deserves a safe place to just… find himself.

However, judging by the Awakener’s dismissive nature and unwillingness to engage in any meaningful conversation with him, it will be difficult for Valimar to be seen as a trusted confidant in the first place.

How to connect…

How do humans connect…

When the Awakener leaves the cockpit, Valimar kneels down to address him.

“How is the weather today?”

The Awakener only spares him an indifferent glance before walking away.

Maybe Valimar would have to use a different tactic later…

 

[Memories of a World No One Knows]

Reuniting with the Ashen Saint is a bizarre experience, one that makes Altina wonder if she's having the phenomenon known as dreaming. Otherwise she is quite certain she had seen the Ashen Saint's corpse in the Infernal Castle. She also clearly recalls witnessing his subsequent funeral.

So, to see him alive and breathing is… confusing. And a relief.

Altina does not have emotions, but she does notice that her chest is much lighter now that she knows that he's okay. Breathing takes less effort, and her body temperature appears to rise slowly.

Good. This is good. She's been wanting to talk to him more about the topic they last discussed: Pancakes.

So, while she guides him through the Geofront on a mission to stop Lloyd Bannings and Rixia Mao, she brings the subject up. There are no monsters in the way. There’s only the silence pierced by their footsteps. Millium once told her that this was an appropriate time for something called small talk.

She is shut down the moment she finishes her question.

“Ashen Saint?” Her hand reaches out to his fading back.

She is completely ignored.

Different. Inconsistent. Uncharacteristic. These are the only words she can find to describe the current situation. It’s been like this since they reunited. It's like everytime she reunites with him, he changes. However, this change…

Is it wrong of her to say she does not like this change? Is she allowed to have an opinion about the trajectory of his development? Such things aren't expected of her after all.

Still, there is a strange part of her. She doesn't know how to describe it. It's like… some sort of calling. Some sort of urge to not accept the current situation. She wanted to learn more about people from him. She wanted to experience the sensation of a head pat again from him. She wanted to… understand more the concept of happiness that he yearned for.

Will this version of him not allow her to indulge in such selfishness? A few months ago, Altina did not want anything. However…  but is it not unfair how he teaches her this forbidden concept, only to deny her later?

This situation gives her a new want. A strange urge.

To rebel.

It hasn't really bothered her before, but now… It's making her breaths short, her chest squeeze. Before she can even process such feelings, her legs break into a sprint, his back eventually enters her reach, and her arms grab—

Altina trips over her foot, accidentally causing her to tackle the Ashen Saint to the ground. There's a thud and a groan.

While this is an unexpected outcome, Altina has learned to adapt. So… Is what it's like to be on the giving side of Millium's hugs? She ignores the strange, distant feeling in her chest as she tries to find any logical benefit to this action. To this touch. Really, it’s pointless. Why would anyone—

“Then get your hands off of him! You don’t even care! What right do you have?! To take him away from us?!”

The memory of Crow Armbrust trying to retrieve the Ashen Saint from Giliath Osborne crosses her mind. She still does not understand the purpose of holding one another, but perhaps she can agree that it is preferable to the inability to do so.

“What are you doing?”

Judging by the Ashen Saint’s scathing tone, she must be doing this wrong. Is the quality judged by how tight her hold is?

“Hugging you.”

A pause. Ever since his return from the dead, his speech has become detached and delayed. “Why?”

As Millium would put it, this is the million mira question. Recently, Altina has been having thoughts and physiological reactions that don't make sense. Something about her is changing in a way she doesn't understand, so it's hard to describe why she is doing what she is doing.

She's been told by the Ashen Saint himself that it's okay to not understand yet. She's been told by Millium to “wing it” when she finds herself in these predicaments.

“You once told me that this action was a sign of affection and that I had permission to practice it on you,” is the answer she comes up with. “I also believe that you need to be reminded that you are appreciated. It's been a long time since you have been with the ones you call friends.”

Another pause. The Ashen Saint's confusion is palpable. He says nothing, but the question hangs in the air. 

Altina tilts her head, absorbing the other's confusion. “In November, back on the Pantagruel, you taught me what hugs and headpats mean. Do you not remember?”

She climbs off of him, letting him turn around to face her. With the mask in the way, it's hard to read his expression when he stares at her longer than necessary.

“You have confused me for someone else.”

Altina detects no lie. No uncertainty. It makes her doubt herself for once. The Ashen Saint would never deceive her, the worst he would do is say weird things that confuse her. This has given Altina the habit of treating most of the things he says like they are rules or facts, much like how she perceives the orders from Black Alberich.

Any other day, she would let this be the end of the conversation. If the Ashen Saint says that Altina is mistaking him for someone else, then she would believe it.

But…

This is wrong.

Altina knows her memory is not defective. As someone who acted as his imposter, she knows there is only one Ashen Saint. She knows that the person in front of her is just as responsible as Millium for the strange feelings in her chest.

Her stomach ties itself into knots. This is a new sensation to her. She does not like it. 

“If you are not who I think you are, then who are you?”

The only answer is silence. Altina is left to ponder on the question as they wordlessly continue toward their objective. Is this what it means to change? To throw away one’s past self?

When the targets, Lloyd Bannings and Rixia Mao, are in sight and they all engage in combat, Altina tries to push away her inner turmoil. She can’t let irrelevant thoughts and feelings affect the mission. However, the longer she looks at the unwavering gleam in Lloyd Bannings’ eyes, she can’t help but think that the Ashen Saint was once the same.

Even as the Ashen Saint calls upon dark flames to overwhelm their enemies and make them tumble to the floor, Lloyd Bannings and Rixia Mao keep getting up. They have burns and cuts and they’re clearly more exhausted, but they don’t give up. They keep fighting. 

Even when Lloyd Bannings is disarmed and unbalanced, even when Ashen Saint readies his blade to make a fatal blow through the opening, and even when Rixia Mao shouts at the Ashen Saint to stop, the fight still burns in the detective’s eyes.

There was once a time when the Ashen Saint wanted to fight for a better future.

There was once a time he wanted to live.

There was once a time when he wanted…

.

“I just want to try to be happy, and I know doing either of those won’t make me happy.”

.

…to be happy.

…

Happiness. She has made many people smile while she was filling in the Ashen Saint’s role for him. It always made her feel weird, but she can tolerate the feeling. She doesn’t mind seeing people’s faces stretch that way.

…

What about his smile? It's gone.

…

Is it strange? 

That she wants to see it again?

 

—CLASH—

 

Sparks fly. There is a loud ringing in Altina’s ears, but she manages to hear the sharp, disgruntled tone of her partner.

“Why are you stopping me?”

Claimh Solais is shaking, a devastating slash now runs ragged against its left arm as it struggles to push against the Ashen Saint’s fiery blade. Acutely, she is aware of the stunned looks their enemies are giving her from behind.

While Altina is still trying to process the rationale behind protecting the detective, she answers him with a fact. “Elimination of the targets, Lloyd Bannings and Rixia Mao, is not part of the objective. We have already completed our objective.”

The Ashen Saint snarls as he applies more force against Claimh Solais. Clearly, he’s not in agreement, but at least this gives Lloyd Bannings time to leap back, recover his tonfas, and regroup with Rixia Mao.

“Stop.” Altina’s voice trembles, looking at her partner’s crimson eyes. There is no genuine fight. There is no undying will. They remind her of the eyes she sees in the mirror: Empty. Made to only see whatever darkness Black Alberich shows them. They fight because they have to, not because they want to. Again, she compares them to Lloyd Bannings. She compares them to his past self. Her own eyes begin to sting. “You said you never wanted to kill anyone ever again.”

She doesn’t know if it's because of her words or how she says them, but the strength behind the Ashen Saint’s blade starts to fade. He then swings his blade away and takes a step back, all the while his eyes never stop scrutinizing her.

“I said you’re confusing me for someone else.”

Altina doesn’t say anything this time, knowing it’s futile trying to convince him otherwise. 

The Ashen Saint lets out a long sigh as he finally looks past Altina. “Whatever. It looks like they have escaped. Continuing this argument is pointless.”

He turns around and starts to leave, not bothering to wait for her. Altina trails after him in disbelief that he won’t punish her for getting in his way. It is then that she notices blood dripping down from his left arm.

“Wait. Your wounds. It’s inefficient to leave them untreated while we have time to rest.”

“It doesn’t matter what happens to me.”

Her stomach twists again. She really… does not like this. Ironically, this is also the first time he has said something that is reminiscent of his past self. So, regardless of the Ashen Saint’s beliefs, she still pulls out her ARCUS to cast a quick healing art. 

“You didn’t have to do that.”

Altina remains silent, thoughts racing through memories of the Ashen Saint doing things he didn’t have to do for her. Some of his past behavior makes sense now. Well, if it was okay for his past self to do things he didn’t have to do, then there should be no issue with her doing things she doesn’t have to do. 

“It's part of my mission to not let you die.” This is just a fact, but not the words that are trying to burst from her chest. 

“I’m already dead. My life does not matter.”

So, it is true that he died at the Infernal Castle. For him to be walking among the living can only be a miracle. Perhaps, even for a price.

She pushes the thoughts aside. She is not one to entertain baseless conjecture, especially when she can do nothing with the conclusion. Instead, what she should prioritize is...

She tugs at his arm.

“Black Rabbit, this is unnecessary.”

Still, he doesn't fight against her grip. It is then that she decides that, if he won’t fight for himself, then she will fight to make sure he can still return to the vision of happiness he once had for himself.

“Regardless of what you believe, I will protect your happiness”

He scoffs, but doesn't say anything further.

 

[A Trauma that can’t be Healed]

 

— C    R   A   S    H —

 ̵ ̶ ̸ ̸ ̷ ̴ ̵ ̴ ̷̨̡̦̗̣̪̫̻̟̗̗̈́̍͗̀̊̕ ̴̠͌̎ ̶̠̗̭̗̻́͌ ̴̮̑͠  ̸̢͚̩̤͔̬̙́͆ ̵̡̭̣̖̔̃̇́̀̉͐̀͋͋̆ ̸͇̬́̐ ̷̨̩͈̣̰̞̤̫̺̯̹̮̱͓̠̇̈́̋͋̕ͅͅ  ̴̢̧̞̩̖͉͓̫̯̲̟̟͚̗̻̺̩̘̥̤̭̍̂̃͐̇̉́́͂͂̊̽̂̕͜͠  ̶̢̧̮͔̯͎͖̫̤̞͊̈́̿͑  ̷̡̢̛̯̝̖̖͚̤̮̖̱̻̬̌̔͑͊̓̓̅̾̐̂̎̍́́̒͊͋͗̈́͘͘̚͝͝   ̷̡̢̗̳͈͓̯̹͍̻̰̱̤̠̦͙̬̝̱̪̲̖͉̘̹̩͉̞̙̩͙̫̲̬̐͗̇̏́̔́̆̄̾̑͆͘͘͜ ̴̨̢̖̜͇̻̜̥̺̱͇̻̠̘̜͙͍̞̘̘̫̳̩͔̳̪͗́̀̿͆͌̈́́͋̎̑͑̐̒̈́̅͂̀̈́̍̒̕̚͠͠   ̷̢̨͎̭̩̫̤̳̱̠͉͖̙̤̫̱̑̋̄̈́̄͆͐̈́͌̃̈̒͒͆̾̋͌́̊͠͠ͅ   ̸̛͎̥̈̾̈́̽̂̓̇̓̈́̂̒͋̋̋͒̾̈͋̚̕͝ͅ  ̶̗̥̝̯̖̪̹̼̖̮͑̅͗̌͗̊̅̎͂̂  ̵̧̛͓̫͓̤̰̠̻̰̮̯͕̬͖͚͕̤͕̹̱͂͋̀̀̒͛͌̅̒̅̋̓̔̀͂̂̽̈́̋̍͗̈́́͒́̃̚͜͝ ̷̨̩͈̣̰̞̤̫̺̯̹̮̱͓̠̇̈́̋͋̕ͅͅ ̶̨̢̛̣̖̱͇̤̟̤̤̝̝̤̤̣͙͐̾͂̎͆͑͛͝͝ ̸̧̧̜̞͇̳͙̦̩̫̦͙̑͐̏̈̇̃̐̾̄͋͝͝ ̴̢͎̦̘̬̯̹̣̐͆ ̴̢̧̞̩̖͉͓̫̯̲̟̟͚̗̻̺̩̘̥̤̭̍̂̃͐̇̉́́͂͂̊̽̂̕͜͠  ̴̭̖͓̬̱͙̯̟͇̬̮̤̹̳̙̯̻͌̃͆͌͗̊̅͂̓͌̒̃̒̏  ̵̧̧̤̗͚͉̬̝͉̺̗͔͉͚͇̩̬͙̩̦̰͍̽̈́  ̵̢̨̧̤̤̹͎̤̹̻̘̮̝̠̝͖̠̠͔͈̩̞͈̀͂̓̔͘ ̸̡̛͚̖͙̣̘̪̽ ̴̳̩̖̲͉͕͈͙̗͊͗̀͋̿̐ͅ ̶̶̳̦͚͑̌͑͂  ̴̴ ̴ ̷ ̵ 

 

̴̧̛͖̫͎̺͙̪̮̜̫̣̦̥̗͔͉̭̙͕̙͈̲̫̙̈́̎̍̿͂̆̄̔̈́̋̀́́̌̐͊̐͛̈̄̓͒̚͜ͅ ̷̧̧̨̡̱͖̰̣̬̤̤͔̘͔̟̬̳̦̬͙͎͕͖̘̖̭̤͑͆͑͒͋̌̃̂͒͑̑͛̆̉̏̍̓̓̾̚̚͘͝͠͠ͅ ̸̛̤́̓̀̄̇͑̾͗̋̓͛͒̄ ̴̧̞͔̭̠̩̮͉̫͕͈͈͎̻̰͍̳̲̞̳̘̾̄͛͊̒͑̈̍͛̑͋̔̏́̍̈̇̂̊̅̐̕͝ ̶̛̫̲͎̰͕̘̩͙͓͍̥͓̬̽̏͐͐̂̏̑̽́̂̽̂̉͑̑̾̂̄̽̂͋͠͝ ̷̧̧̛̻̫̗͖̟̬͔̘̣͚͇̇͐̈́̃͗̑͛̇̀̋̏͌͋̀̅͋̍̓̏͋̋̉̕͘͘͜͝͝ ̶̧̧̻͖͙͚͉̰̜͓̮̲͚͕̩͚̣̱̙̘͖͓͍̺̮̙͛̐̓̕ͅ ̸̢̘̰͇̙̮̣͖̺̥̜̲̜͚̦̙̯͕͍͉̹̯̟̤͈͖̔̕͜ͅ ̶̧̡̛̛̝̤̳̲̼̣̬̭̲͓͖͇͔͙̽͊͆́͐͌͒̊́̀̂͊͊̈́̒̆͆̈́͌͌̕͠ ̴̠̫̞̗̤͈̂̄͛̈̒̍̈́̀̄̂̿̋̿̄̐͑̉̔̐̏͘͝͝͝ ̸̡̜̫͎͙̥̟̳̰̱͕̝͓̼̠̬̞̮̩̻́̎̄̍͛̒͜͜͜͜ ̷̡̨̨̠͚̙̥̞̓͛̓̀̉͂̽́̾̐́̇̓̂̆̓̕̚ ̷̨̝̹͉̬̘̞̩̃̇ ̶̡̨̢̻̟̻͍̥͍̞̥͉̪̼͗̈́͋̀͐̔ͅ ̷̞̬͕͓̜͙̬̹̗̠͈̹̼̖͉̺̮͚͖̙́̆͌̎͆̋͋̎͊͆̈́̓́̓̀̇͂͊̀̕͝͝͝͠͠ ̸̧̛̛͕̲͔̜͉͇̂͑̅͛̊͑̄̽̈́͆͊̎̅̇̐̅̕͝ ̶̨̟̝͉̭̳̼̹͇̯͈̱͖̪͍̙̂̏̅̓̉̄̑̈́̒͂̃̊̔̓̃̔̎̕͘̕͠͠͠͠͝͝͝ ̷̨̳̙̺̲̭̳̠̩̱̞̖̯̦̭̾͋̌̂̿̒̓̎͗ͅ ̷̧̢̡̹̘̘̝̝̦͚͉͚͕̖̳̞̫̝͓̩̣͓̮͓̙̘̌͒́̊͆͒̆̀͌͌͜ͅ ̷͚̮͇̘̱̯͍͙̙̯̝̤̲̠̯̫͓̱͍̱͖̃̾ ̵̞̫̠̹͙̪̩̠̞̟̫̀͆͊̃͋͐͋̀̽̈́̌̕̕ ̵̡̢̠̖̘̰̮̣̤̙̍̅̄͒̃͛͑͒͘̚͜ ̸̩̠̑̑͊͑̍̄̒̇́̉͗͂͒͋̽̌̕̚͘̚͝͠ ̴̡̧̢̞̼̘͙̣̤̲̫̠̺̦͍̼̼͍̺͈̝̥͕̖̹͛̇̍̈́̀̂̑̓̋̑͌̑̓̅́̊̍͗̄͆͑̔͘͜͝ ̵̢̨͙̙̺̇̀͛̆̈́̓̒̓̃̿̉́͆͂͝͝͠ͅ ̵̨̟͙̟͕̥̠̩̆̐͂̑̎̐͋̌̏͜͠ ̶̧̢̨̛̫͇̮͉͈̠̳̦̜̱̬̳̻̳̯͗̄̌̎̇̄̓̊̓̈́̉̾̾́̀̃̈́́̑̈͘̕͘ ̸̨̨̱̤̯̟̮̗̰͚̯̮̫͎͖̙̬͉̰̳͚̒̀̅̎͛̄̌̌͛̿̅̂̿́̕ ̷̡̧̨͔͕̺͖̙͇͎̻̮̺̱̥̗̹̰͚̘̞̂́̆̍̐̄̓͂͌̎̉͂̂̈́̀͛̓͘̚̚͝ ̸̡̛̹̳̥͉͓͓̼̝͍̱̳͖̼̻̦̝͙̜̯̩̰̑̋̈́̈͑̒̂ͅ ̷̛̦̫͚̯͚̬̭̪̞̘̺͈̼̠̟̝̰̲͖̓͂̆͐̎̑̀̾̀̾̋̾͂̈́̔͘̚͘͝͝͠ ̶̡̼̰̝̳̯͓̲̼̖̹͚̓ ̸̻̣͚̞̫̜͇̗̹̋ ̵̨̛̛̣̱̼̻̜͍̪̺͔̹̫̠̼͕̣̟͙͇̈́̍͌̍̈̑̄͑̏͂̎̈́̌̽̒́͑͑̾̀́̏̉͘͜͠͠ ̷̲̼̬̰̼̝͖͌̿ ̷̧̢͈̩̙̜̰͙̯̝͔̲̲̩̰̤͎͎̦͒̇̐̈͂̋͗̿̿͑̚͝͝ ̵̢̢̧̗͚̩̱̭̺͕̬̥̣̤̥̦͇̫͇̝̥̜͖̜̤́͂ ̵͙̝͎̀̍̊̀̎̈́̅̔̐̎̾͂͆̌̐̇̉͗̋͋͘͘͝͝͝͝͝ͅ ̶̡̨͈̟͚͍̮̀͐͊̌͆̈́̈́͆̔̚͜͝ ̵͚̤̯̭͙̼͍̝͒̇̊̇̒͛̈̈́̓̈̑͒̈́̚̚ͅ ̴̧̖̩̬͓̙̮͇͈̺̹͖́̌̀͊͑̊̓̿͂̅͒̊͋́͆̓͜͝͝͝͝ ̸̧͚͓̹̰̭͔͔̝͓͔̜̩͓̥̒̏̿́̈́̂͌̿͂̈́̍͊̿̂̀̓̾̚̚̕͜͠͝ ̵̪̽́̈́͆͊̎̽̿̒̓͗͊͐́̈́̇̇̈͂̚͘̕͝ ̸̤͉̺̪̟̲͖͙̱̙̪͉̣͔̙̰̖̩̘̯̜̦͙̳̥̻̰̑̎̌̌͊̚ͅ ̸̨̨̡̞̩̠͔̰̱̦̦̝͎̦̖͉̩̜̱̰͎̗͓͌͑́́͜͜ ̷̧̪͎̦̞͇͍̗̠̯̦̪̯̠̥̿̈́̈͑̊̚̕͜ͅ ̵͍̗̮̹̪̦̬͇̣̻̭̻͒̒͛̾̈́̆̓̚ ̴̺̤̾́́̓̓̐̂̄͂̇͛̕ ̴̡̪͉̦͈̯̞̼͙̞̫̬̼̩̥̆͌̍̓̀͐̀͊̐̑͆͊́͌́̋̈̍̑͐̐͜͝͝͝͝ ̶̡̖̰̠͖̙̬͓͇̜͚̲̼̝̖̓͆̎͊̑̍͐̈́́͝ ̶̛̛̯̠̬͕̂́̎͛̊͒̎͑̃͑̋̈́͑̎͋͌͒͠͠ ̴̨̬̞̭͔̼̫͍͙̖͈̜̥̲̥͎̦͕̟͔̭̍͆͌̈̒̎̒̌̒͗͂̔͛̈́͆͂̈̈́̕͜͠ ̷̯̼̻͔̼̣͔̟̄̏͝ ̵̡̢̡̣̞͈̠̯̙͕͍̘̪͎͇̗̦̖̦̪͔̜̝͕͇͔̬̍ ̴̧̛͖̫͎̺͙̪̮̜̫̣̦̥̗͔͉̭̙͕̙͈̲̫̙̈́̎̍̿͂̆̄̔̈́̋̀́́̌̐͊̐͛̈̄̓͒̚͜ͅ ̷̧̧̨̡̱͖̰̣̬̤̤͔̘͔̟̬̳̦̬͙͎͕͖̘̖̭̤͑͆͑͒͋̌̃̂͒͑̑͛̆̉̏̍̓̓̾̚̚͘͝͠͠ͅ ̶̧̖̤̟͚͍̼͕̟̦̗͇̠̜͍̿̍̆͂̅͆͘͠ͅ ̵̡̡̧̧̧̢͇̺͈̠̰̪̬̥͌̂͂̿̕̕͜

 ̸̧̢̨͓̞̘̦͐̓̐̀̈̿̈́̒̋͂̔͒̽͗̂́͗̓̐̑̄̐́̚͠͝͝ ̶̛̛̯̠̬͕̂́̎͛̊͒̎͑̃͑̋̈́͑̎͋͌͒͠͠ ̴̧̛͖̫͎̺͙̪̮̜̫̣̦̥̗͔͉̭̙͕̙͈̲̫̙̈́̎̍̿͂̆̄̔̈́̋̀́́̌̐͊̐͛̈̄̓͒̚͜ͅ ̷̧̧̨̡̱͖̰̣̬̤̤͔̘͔̟̬̳̦̬͙͎͕͖̘̖̭̤͑͆͑͒͋̌̃̂͒͑̑͛̆̉̏̍̓̓̾̚̚͘͝͠͠ͅ ̸̛̤́̓̀̄̇͑̾͗̋̓͛͒̄ ̴̧̞͔̭̠̩̮͉̫͕͈͈͎̻̰͍̳̲̞̳̘̾̄͛͊̒͑̈̍͛̑͋̔̏́̍̈̇̂̊̅̐̕͝ ̶̛̫̲͎̰͕̘̩͙͓͍̥͓̬̽̏͐͐̂̏̑̽́̂̽̂̉͑̑̾̂̄̽̂͋͠͝ ̷̖͎̩̙͚̖̟̬̬̖̱̣͕̽̿̓́͗̇͒̀͌͋̀͊̽͒͂͗̕̕͠ ̶̡̡̨̛̛͇͓̘͙̰̫͖͔͇̺̠̤͓̪͔͈͉̲̮̥̲͖̹̰͚̝͔͉͓̱͓͕̼͙̤̖̯̻͈̘̭͎̝́͒̅̏̊͂̅̈́́͗̋̕͝ͅͅͅ ̶̢̢̡̡̡̡̛̹̖̳̜̟̖̘͕͙̲̭͉͕̝̠̫̹̼̖̜͇̘̱͍̪̦͕̖̣̭̫̫̘̝̟̱͕̘͂̉͑͑̑̔͌̐̋̔̄̏̓͋̉͂̑̈́̐͊̾͂̉͘͘̕͘͘ͅ ̷̧̧̛̻̫̗͖̟̬͔̘̣͚͇̇͐̈́̃͗̑͛̇̀̋̏͌͋̀̅͋̍̓̏͋̋̉̕͘͘͜͝͝ ̶̧̧̻͖͙͚͉̰̜͓̮̲͚͕̩͚̣̱̙̘͖͓͍̺̮̙͛̐̓̕ͅ ̸̢̘̰͇̙̮̣͖̺̥̜̲̜͚̦̙̯͕͍͉̹̯̟̤͈͖̔̕͜ͅ ̶̧̡̛̛̝̤̳̲̼̣̬̭̲͓͖͇͔͙̽͊͆́͐͌͒̊́̀̂͊͊̈́̒̆͆̈́͌͌̕͠ ̴̠̫̞̗̤͈̂̄͛̈̒̍̈́̀̄̂̿̋̿̄̐͑̉̔̐̏͘͝͝͝  ̴̢̨̢̨̩͓͓̬̪̙͕͎̱̫̣̗͉̖̜̠͈͈̼̥̳̩̻͍̯̲̱̱̯͇̫͍̖͇͖̝͈̙̬̍̇͑̃̋̈́̐͊͌͑̚̚͘͠͝ͅ ̴̨̨̧̢̨̧̟̱̫͉̻̥̼̫̣͈͚̬̜̣̣̯̫̣̬̗͇̟̼̫͕̟̮͔̠̆̀͆̂̇̎͂̈̉̀̊͗͛́́̽͗͐͐̈̈́͐͂͂̇̈̆̊̃͂͊̋̒̎̎̈́̚̕͜͜͠ ̵̧̢̧̡̢̻̩̬̳͍̲̦̖͓͉̲̙͈͚̯͍̞̖̖̞̯̠̞̬̳̘̪͕̪̞̱̇̒̅̉́̊̃̉̀͜ͅ ̶̷̡̡̧͖͎̼̭̖͓̲̭̩͚̲̬̰̭̥̞̭̻̜̠̼̩̮̥̜̗̱͎̗̗̪̗̟̰̥͔̣̞̬͕͓̜͙̬̹̗̠͈̹̼̖͉̺̮͚͖̙̓̿̄̈́͊͋̈͛͒̊͂̀͛͛́̋͋̀́̃̏̽̀̓̆͐̍́̆͌̎͆̋͋̎͊͆̈́̓́̓̀̇͂͊̀̚̕̕͝͝͝͠͠ ̸̧̛̛͕̲͔̜͉͇̂͑̅͛̊͑̄̽̈́͆͊̎̅̇̐̅̕͝ ̶̨̟̝͉̭̳̼̹͇̯͈̱͖̪͍̙̂̏̅̓̉̄̑̈́̒͂̃̊̔̓̃̔̎̕͘̕͠͠͠͠͝͝͝ ̷̨̳̙̺̲̭̳̠̩̱̞̖̯̦̭̾͋̌̂̿̒̓̎͗ͅ ̷̧̢̡̹̘̘̝̝̦͚͉͚͕̖̳̞̫̝͓̩̣͓̮͓̙̘̌͒́̊͆͒̆̀͌͌͜ͅ ̷͚̮͇̘̱̯͍͙̙̯̝̤̲̠̯̫͓̱͍̱͖̃̾ ̵̞̫̠̹͙̪̩̠̞̟̫̀͆͊̃͋͐͋̀̽̈́̌̕̕ ̵̡̢̠̖̘̰̮̣̤̙̍̅̄͒̃͛͑͒͘̚͜ ̸̩̠̑̑͊͑̍̄̒̇́̉͗͂͒͋̽̌̕̚͘̚͝͠ ̴̡̧̢̞̼̘͙̣̤̲̫̠̺̦͍̼̼͍̺͈̝̥͕̖̹͛̇̍̈́̀̂̑̓̋̑͌̑̓̅́̊̍͗̄͆͑̔͘͜͝ ̵̢̨͙̙̺̇̀͛̆̈́̓̒̓̃̿̉́͆͂͝͝͠ͅ ̵̨̟͙̟͕̥̠̩̆̐͂̑̎̐͋̌̏͜͠ ̶̧̢̨̛̫͇̮͉͈̠̳̦̜̱̬̳̻̳̯͗̄̌̎̇̄̓̊̓̈́̉̾̾́̀̃̈́́̑̈͘̕͘ ̸̨̨̱̤̯̟̮̗̰͚̯̮̫͎͖̙̬͉̰̳͚̒̀̅̎͛̄̌̌͛̿̅̂̿́̕ ̷̡̧̨͔͕̺͖̙͇͎̻̮̺̱̥̗̹̰͚̘̞̂́̆̍̐̄̓͂͌̎̉͂̂̈́̀͛̓͘̚̚͝ ̸̡̛̹̳̥͉͓͓̼̝͍̱̳͖̼̻̦̝͙̜̯̩̰̑̋̈́̈͑̒̂ͅ ̷̛̦̫͚̯͚̬̭̪̞̘̺͈̼̠̟̝̰̲͖̓͂̆͐̎̑̀̾̀̾̋̾͂̈́̔͘̚͘͝͝͠ ̶̡̼̰̝̳̯͓̲̼̖̹͚̓  ̶̡̡̨̛̛͇͓̘͙̰̫͖͔͇̺̠̤͓̪͔͈͉̲̮̥̲͖̹̰͚̝͔͉͓̱͓͕̼͙̤̖̯̻͈̘̭͎̝́͒̅̏̊͂̅̈́́͗̋̕͝ͅͅͅ ̶̢̢̡̡̡̡̛̹̖̳̜̟̖̘͕͙̲̭͉͕̝̠̫̹̼̖̜͇̘̱͍̪̦͕̖̣̭̫̫̘̝̟̱͕̘͂̉͑͑̑̔͌̐̋̔̄̏̓͋̉͂̑̈́̐͊̾͂̉͘͘̕͘͘ͅ ̷̲̼̬̰̼̝͖͌̿ ̷̧̢͈̩̙̜̰͙̯̝͔̲̲̩̰̤͎͎̦͒̇̐̈͂̋͗̿̿͑̚͝͝ ̵̢̢̧̗͚̩̱̭̺͕̬̥̣̤̥̦͇̫͇̝̥̜͖̜̤́͂ ̵͙̝͎̀̍̊̀̎̈́̅̔̐̎̾͂͆̌̐̇̉͗̋͋͘͘͝͝͝͝͝ͅ ̴̧̖̩̬͓̙̮͇͈̺̹͖́̌̀͊͑̊̓̿͂̅͒̊͋́͆̓͜͝͝͝͝ ̸̧͚͓̹̰̭͔͔̝͓͔̜̩͓̥̒̏̿́̈́̂͌̿͂̈́̍͊̿̂̀̓̾̚̚̕͜͠͝  ̶̢̢̺̻̳̭̘̩̙̼͍͈̣̰̠̠̹̑̈̔̈́͊̈́̉̏̏͆̓̃̕͝ͅ ̴̨̧̡̛͎̮̘̹̬͚̫̱̥̲͔͎͇͈̠̲͇̳̮̙̦̠͙͈̭̠͕͔͈͖͇̔̐̑͒́̔̒̈́̊̍͐̅͗͐͊̽̾́̑̉͌̾̀̀͌̾̚͘͜͜͝ͅͅͅͅ ̸̡̝̣̤̟͚̦͚̠̺̯̙̀̔́̓͗̔̓̀̕̚ ̸̨̨̡̞̩̠͔̰̱̦̦̝͎̦̖͉̩̜̱̰͎̗͓͌͑́́͜͜ ̷̧̪͎̦̞͇͍̗̠̯̦̪̯̠̥̿̈́̈͑̊̚̕͜ͅ ̵͍̗̮̹̪̦̬͇̣̻̭̻͒̒͛̾̈́̆̓̚ ̴̺̤̾́́̓̓̐̂̄͂̇͛̕ ̴̡̪͉̦͈̯̞̼͙̞̫̬̼̩̥̆͌̍̓̀͐̀͊̐̑͆͊́͌́̋̈̍̑͐̐͜͝͝͝͝ ̷̛̜̉̇̑́̍̔̄̒̃̅̚̕̕͝͝ ̶̡̖̰̠͖̙̬͓͇̜͚̲̼̝̖̓͆̎͊̑̍͐̈́́͝ ̶̢̠̮̮̺̹͙̤̮͈͕͚̱̠͖͈̻́̓̉̓͐̉́͒́̓͌̌̌͒̑́̈́̕ ̵̨̘̲̩͙̫̗̖̟͎͍͉̤͕͙̞̮̼͍̜̪̯͎̉ ̷̢̢̢̡͉̮̪̠͍̗̞͙̰̞͍̼̠͖̭̳͈̜̥̍́̓̽͒̽͘͜͜͝ ̴̡̢̛̭̼͓͉̯̲̱̻̂̀̍ ̵̢̛̛̼͔͖̮̝̼̜̠̗̱̼͍̣̭͖̬̗̘͙̜̥̹̺̐͂̍̔̌́͒̐̌̈́͆̾̎̚͝͝͝ͅ ̷̡̯̦͚̝͇͍̳̝̗̟͚̠̯̹͚͙̺̦̭̼͕̉̆́̂̋͒̋͊͊̾͂̌̍̽͊ ̶̢̧̡̟͕̪̱̰͙̼̠̪̠̥͎̫̞͎͕̩͖̥͙̰̲̙̭̇̈́̓̒͒̄̉̊̒̿̾͑͒̂͘̕͜͝ ̷̶̢̧̨̢̲̠̘̙̩̫̣͓̼̺͚̲͔̜͎̜͙̜̗͕̻̖͂͋̑͛̓̏̄̇͒̑̎̊̃̾̋͗̂̈́͊̅̀̈́̾̊͆̍͗̿̽̕̕͠͠ ̶̧̖̤̟͚͍̼͕̟̦̗͇̠̜͍̿̍̆͂̅͆͘͠ͅ ̵̡̡̧̧̧̢͇̺͈̠̰̪̬̥͌̂͂̿̕̕͜

̸̧̢̨͓̞̘̦͐̓̐̀̈̿̈́̒̋͂̔͒̽͗̂́͗̓̐̑̄̐́̚͠͝͝ ̶̛̛̯̠̬͕̂́̎͛̊͒̎͑̃͑̋̈́͑̎͋͌͒͠͠ ̴̨̬̞̭͔̼̫͍͙̖͈̜̥̲̥͎̦͕̟͔̭̍͆͌̈̒̎̒̌̒͗͂̔͛̈́͆͂̈̈́̕͜͠ ̷̯̼̻͔̼̣͔̟̄̏͝ ̵̡̢̡̣̞͈̠̯̙͕͍̘̪͎͇̗̦̖̦̪͔̜̝͕͇͔̬̍ ̴̧̛͖̫͎̺͙̪̮̜̫̣̦̥̗͔͉̭̙͕̙͈̲̫̙̈́̎̍̿͂̆̄̔̈́̋̀́́̌̐͊̐͛̈̄̓͒̚͜ͅ ̷̧̧̨̡̱͖̰̣̬̤̤͔̘͔̟̬̳̦̬͙͎͕͖̘̖̭̤͑͆͑͒͋̌̃̂͒͑̑͛̆̉̏̍̓̓̾̚̚͘͝͠͠ͅ ̸̛̤́̓̀̄̇͑̾͗̋̓͛͒̄ ̴̧̞͔̭̠̩̮͉̫͕͈͈͎̻̰͍̳̲̞̳̘̾̄͛͊̒͑̈̍͛̑͋̔̏́̍̈̇̂̊̅̐̕͝ ̶̛̫̲͎̰͕̘̩͙͓͍̥͓̬̽̏͐͐̂̏̑̽́̂̽̂̉͑̑̾̂̄̽̂͋͠͝ ̷̖͎̩̙͚̖̟̬̬̖̱̣͕̽̿̓́͗̇͒̀͌͋̀͊̽͒͂͗̕̕͠ ̶̡̡̨̛̛͇͓̘͙̰̫͖͔͇̺̠̤͓̪͔͈͉̲̮̥̲͖̹̰͚̝͔͉͓̱͓͕̼͙̤̖̯̻͈̘̭͎̝́͒̅̏̊͂̅̈́́͗̋̕͝ͅͅͅ ̶̢̢̡̡̡̡̛̹̖̳̜̟̖̘͕͙̲̭͉͕̝̠̫̹̼̖̜͇̘̱͍̪̦͕̖̣̭̫̫̘̝̟̱͕̘͂̉͑͑̑̔͌̐̋̔̄̏̓͋̉͂̑̈́̐͊̾͂̉͘͘̕͘͘ͅ ̷̧̧̛̻̫̗͖̟̬͔̘̣͚͇̇͐̈́̃͗̑͛̇̀̋̏͌͋̀̅͋̍̓̏͋̋̉̕͘͘͜͝͝ ̶̧̧̻͖͙͚͉̰̜͓̮̲͚͕̩͚̣̱̙̘͖͓͍̺̮̙͛̐̓̕ͅ ̸̢̘̰͇̙̮̣͖̺̥̜̲̜͚̦̙̯͕͍͉̹̯̟̤͈͖̔̕͜ͅ ̶̧̡̛̛̝̤̳̲̼̣̬̭̲͓͖͇͔͙̽͊͆́͐͌͒̊́̀̂͊͊̈́̒̆͆̈́͌͌̕͠ ̴̠̫̞̗̤͈̂̄͛̈̒̍̈́̀̄̂̿̋̿̄̐͑̉̔̐̏͘͝͝͝  ̴̢̨̢̨̩͓͓̬̪̙͕͎̱̫̣̗͉̖̜̠͈͈̼̥̳̩̻͍̯̲̱̱̯͇̫͍̖͇͖̝͈̙̬̍̇͑̃̋̈́̐͊͌͑̚̚͘͠͝ͅ ̴̨̨̧̢̨̧̟̱̫͉̻̥̼̫̣͈͚̬̜̣̣̯̫̣̬̗͇̟̼̫͕̟̮͔̠̆̀͆̂̇̎͂̈̉̀̊͗͛́́̽͗͐͐̈̈́͐͂͂̇̈̆̊̃͂͊̋̒̎̎̈́̚̕͜͜͠ ̵̧̢̧̡̢̻̩̬̳͍̲̦̖͓͉̲̙͈͚̯͍̞̖̖̞̯̠̞̬̳̘̪͕̪̞̱̇̒̅̉́̊̃̉̀͜ͅ ̶̷̡̡̧͖͎̼̭̖͓̲̭̩͚̲̬̰̭̥̞̭̻̜̠̼̩̮̥̜̗̱͎̗̗̪̗̟̰̥͔̣̞̬͕͓̜͙̬̹̗̠͈̹̼̖͉̺̮͚͖̙̓̿̄̈́͊͋̈͛͒̊͂̀͛͛́̋͋̀́̃̏̽̀̓̆͐̍́̆͌̎͆̋͋̎͊͆̈́̓́̓̀̇͂͊̀̚̕̕͝͝͝͠͠ ̸̧̛̛͕̲͔̜͉͇̂͑̅͛̊͑̄̽̈́͆͊̎̅̇̐̅̕͝ ̶̨̟̝͉̭̳̼̹͇̯͈̱͖̪͍̙̂̏̅̓̉̄̑̈́̒͂̃̊̔̓̃̔̎̕͘̕͠͠͠͠͝͝͝ ̷̨̳̙̺̲̭̳̠̩̱̞̖̯̦̭̾͋̌̂̿̒̓̎͗ͅ ̷̧̢̡̹̘̘̝̝̦͚͉͚͕̖̳̞̫̝͓̩̣͓̮͓̙̘̌͒́̊͆͒̆̀͌͌͜ͅ ̷͚̮͇̘̱̯͍͙̙̯̝̤̲̠̯̫͓̱͍̱͖̃̾ ̵̞̫̠̹͙̪̩̠̞̟̫̀͆͊̃͋͐͋̀̽̈́̌̕̕ ̵̡̢̠̖̘̰̮̣̤̙̍̅̄͒̃͛͑͒͘̚͜ ̸̩̠̑̑͊͑̍̄̒̇́̉͗͂͒͋̽̌̕̚͘̚͝͠ ̴̡̧̢̞̼̘͙̣̤̲̫̠̺̦͍̼̼͍̺͈̝̥͕̖̹͛̇̍̈́̀̂̑̓̋̑͌̑̓̅́̊̍͗̄͆͑̔͘͜͝ ̵̢̨͙̙̺̇̀͛̆̈́̓̒̓̃̿̉́͆͂͝͝͠ͅ ̵̨̟͙̟͕̥̠̩̆̐͂̑̎̐͋̌̏͜͠ ̶̧̢̨̛̫͇̮͉͈̠̳̦̜̱̬̳̻̳̯͗̄̌̎̇̄̓̊̓̈́̉̾̾́̀̃̈́́̑̈͘̕͘ ̸̨̨̱̤̯̟̮̗̰͚̯̮̫͎͖̙̬͉̰̳͚̒̀̅̎͛̄̌̌͛̿̅̂̿́̕ ̷̡̧̨͔͕̺͖̙͇͎̻̮̺̱̥̗̹̰͚̘̞̂́̆̍̐̄̓͂͌̎̉͂̂̈́̀͛̓͘̚̚͝ ̸̡̛̹̳̥͉͓͓̼̝͍̱̳͖̼̻̦̝͙̜̯̩̰̑̋̈́̈͑̒̂ͅ ̷̛̦̫͚̯͚̬̭̪̞̘̺͈̼̠̟̝̰̲͖̓͂̆͐̎̑̀̾̀̾̋̾͂̈́̔͘̚͘͝͝͠ ̶̡̼̰̝̳̯͓̲̼̖̹͚̓  ̶̡̡̨̛̛͇͓̘͙̰̫͖͔͇̺̠̤͓̪͔͈͉̲̮̥̲͖̹̰͚̝͔͉͓̱͓͕̼͙̤̖̯̻͈̘̭͎̝́͒̅̏̊͂̅̈́́͗̋̕͝ͅͅͅ ̶̢̢̡̡̡̡̛̹̖̳̜̟̖̘͕͙̲̭͉͕̝̠̫̹̼̖̜͇̘̱͍̪̦͕̖̣̭̫̫̘̝̟̱͕̘͂̉͑͑̑̔͌̐̋̔̄̏̓͋̉͂̑̈́̐͊̾͂̉͘͘̕͘͘ͅ ̷̲̼̬̰̼̝͖͌̿ ̷̧̢͈̩̙̜̰͙̯̝͔̲̲̩̰̤͎͎̦͒̇̐̈͂̋͗̿̿͑̚͝͝ ̵̢̢̧̗͚̩̱̭̺͕̬̥̣̤̥̦͇̫͇̝̥̜͖̜̤́͂ ̵͙̝͎̀̍̊̀̎̈́̅̔̐̎̾͂͆̌̐̇̉͗̋͋͘͘͝͝͝͝͝ͅ ̴̧̖̩̬͓̙̮͇͈̺̹͖́̌̀͊͑̊̓̿͂̅͒̊͋́͆̓͜͝͝͝͝ ̸̧͚͓̹̰̭͔͔̝͓͔̜̩͓̥̒̏̿́̈́̂͌̿͂̈́̍͊̿̂̀̓̾̚̚̕͜͠͝  ̶̢̢̺̻̳̭̘̩̙̼͍͈̣̰̠̠̹̑̈̔̈́͊̈́̉̏̏͆̓̃̕͝ͅ ̴̨̧̡̛͎̮̘̹̬͚̫̱̥̲͔͎͇͈̠̲͇̳̮̙̦̠͙͈̭̠͕͔͈͖͇̔̐̑͒́̔̒̈́̊̍͐̅͗͐͊̽̾́̑̉͌̾̀̀͌̾̚͘͜͜͝ͅͅͅͅ ̸̡̝̣̤̟͚̦͚̠̺̯̙̀̔́̓͗̔̓̀̕̚ ̸̨̨̡̞̩̠͔̰̱̦̦̝͎̦̖͉̩̜̱̰͎̗͓͌͑́́͜͜ ̷̧̪͎̦̞͇͍̗̠̯̦̪̯̠̥̿̈́̈͑̊̚̕͜ͅ ̵͍̗̮̹̪̦̬͇̣̻̭̻͒̒͛̾̈́̆̓̚ ̴̺̤̾́́̓̓̐̂̄͂̇͛̕ ̴̡̪͉̦͈̯̞̼͙̞̫̬̼̩̥̆͌̍̓̀͐̀͊̐̑͆͊́͌́̋̈̍̑͐̐͜͝͝͝͝ ̷̛̜̉̇̑́̍̔̄̒̃̅̚̕̕͝͝ ̶̡̖̰̠͖̙̬͓͇̜͚̲̼̝̖̓͆̎͊̑̍͐̈́́͝ ̶̢̠̮̮̺̹͙̤̮͈͕͚̱̠͖͈̻́̓̉̓͐̉́͒́̓͌̌̌͒̑́̈́̕ ̵̨̘̲̩͙̫̗̖̟͎͍͉̤͕͙̞̮̼͍̜̪̯͎̉ ̷̢̢̢̡͉̮̪̠͍̗̞͙̰̞͍̼̠͖̭̳͈̜̥̍́̓̽͒̽͘͜͜͝ ̴̡̢̛̭̼͓͉̯̲̱̻̂̀̍ ̵̢̛̛̼͔͖̮̝̼̜̠̗̱̼͍̣̭͖̬̗̘͙̜̥̹̺̐͂̍̔̌́͒̐̌̈́͆̾̎̚͝͝͝ͅ ̷̡̯̦͚̝͇͍̳̝̗̟͚̠̯̹͚͙̺̦̭̼͕̉̆́̂̋͒̋͊͊̾͂̌̍̽͊

 ̸̧̢̨͓̞̘̦͐̓̐̀̈̿̈́̒̋͂̔͒̽͗̂́͗̓̐̑̄̐́̚͠͝͝ ̶̛̛̯̠̬͕̂́̎͛̊͒̎͑̃͑̋̈́͑̎͋͌͒͠͠ ̴̨̬̞̭͔̼̫͍͙̖͈̜̥̲̥͎̦͕̟͔̭̍͆͌̈̒̎̒̌̒͗͂̔͛̈́͆͂̈̈́̕͜͠ ̷̯̼̻͔̼̣͔̟̄̏͝ ̵̡̢̡̣̞͈̠̯̙͕͍̘̪͎͇̗̦̖̦̪͔̜̝͕͇͔̬̍ ̴̧̛͖̫͎̺͙̪̮̜̫̣̦̥̗͔͉̭̙͕̙͈̲̫̙̈́̎̍̿͂̆̄̔̈́̋̀́́̌̐͊̐͛̈̄̓͒̚͜ͅ ̷̧̧̨̡̱͖̰̣̬̤̤͔̘͔̟̬̳̦̬͙͎͕͖̘̖̭̤͑͆͑͒͋̌̃̂͒͑̑͛̆̉̏̍̓̓̾̚̚͘͝͠͠ͅ ̸̛̤́̓̀̄̇͑̾͗̋̓͛͒̄ ̴̧̞͔̭̠̩̮͉̫͕͈͈͎̻̰͍̳̲̞̳̘̾̄͛͊̒͑̈̍͛̑͋̔̏́̍̈̇̂̊̅̐̕͝ ̶̛̫̲͎̰͕̘̩͙͓͍̥͓̬̽̏͐͐̂̏̑̽́̂̽̂̉͑̑̾̂̄̽̂͋͠͝ ̷̖͎̩̙͚̖̟̬̬̖̱̣͕̽̿̓́͗̇͒̀͌͋̀͊̽͒͂͗̕̕͠ ̶̡̡̨̛̛͇͓̘͙̰̫͖͔͇̺̠̤͓̪͔͈͉̲̮̥̲͖̹̰͚̝͔͉͓̱͓͕̼͙̤̖̯̻͈̘̭͎̝́͒̅̏̊͂̅̈́́͗̋̕͝ͅͅͅ ̶̢̢̡̡̡̡̛̹̖̳̜̟̖̘͕͙̲̭͉͕̝̠̫̹̼̖̜͇̘̱͍̪̦͕̖̣̭̫̫̘̝̟̱͕̘͂̉͑͑̑̔͌̐̋̔̄̏̓͋̉͂̑̈́̐͊̾͂̉͘͘̕͘͘ͅ ̷̧̧̛̻̫̗͖̟̬͔̘̣͚͇̇͐̈́̃͗̑͛̇̀̋̏͌͋̀̅͋̍̓̏͋̋̉̕͘͘͜͝͝ ̶̧̧̻͖͙͚͉̰̜͓̮̲͚͕̩͚̣̱̙̘͖͓͍̺̮̙͛̐̓̕ͅ ̸̢̘̰͇̙̮̣͖̺̥̜̲̜͚̦̙̯͕͍͉̹̯̟̤͈͖̔̕͜ͅ ̶̧̡̛̛̝̤̳̲̼̣̬̭̲͓͖͇͔͙̽͊͆́͐͌͒̊́̀̂͊͊̈́̒̆͆̈́͌͌̕͠ ̴̠̫̞̗̤͈̂̄͛̈̒̍̈́̀̄̂̿̋̿̄̐͑̉̔̐̏͘͝͝͝  ̴̢̨̢̨̩͓͓̬̪̙͕͎̱̫̣̗͉̖̜̠͈͈̼̥̳̩̻͍̯̲̱̱̯͇̫͍̖͇͖̝͈̙̬̍̇͑̃̋̈́̐͊͌͑̚̚͘͠͝ͅ ̴̨̨̧̢̨̧̟̱̫͉̻̥̼̫̣͈͚̬̜̣̣̯̫̣̬̗͇̟̼̫͕̟̮͔̠̆̀͆̂̇̎͂̈̉̀̊͗͛́́̽͗͐͐̈̈́͐͂͂̇̈̆̊̃͂͊̋̒̎̎̈́̚̕͜͜͠ ̵̧̢̧̡̢̻̩̬̳͍̲̦̖͓͉̲̙͈͚̯͍̞̖̖̞̯̠̞̬̳̘̪͕̪̞̱̇̒̅̉́̊̃̉̀͜ͅ ̶̷̡̡̧͖͎̼̭̖͓̲̭̩͚̲̬̰̭̥̞̭̻̜̠̼̩̮̥̜̗̱͎̗̗̪̗̟̰̥͔̣̞̬͕͓̜͙̬̹̗̠͈̹̼̖͉̺̮͚͖̙̓̿̄̈́͊͋̈͛͒̊͂̀͛͛́̋͋̀́̃̏̽̀̓̆͐̍́̆͌̎͆̋͋̎͊͆̈́̓́̓̀̇͂͊̀̚̕̕͝͝͝͠͠ ̸̧̛̛͕̲͔̜͉͇̂͑̅͛̊͑̄̽̈́͆͊̎̅̇̐̅̕͝ ̶̨̟̝͉̭̳̼̹͇̯͈̱͖̪͍̙̂̏̅̓̉̄̑̈́̒͂̃̊̔̓̃̔̎̕͘̕͠͠͠͠͝͝͝ ̷̨̳̙̺̲̭̳̠̩̱̞̖̯̦̭̾͋̌̂̿̒̓̎͗ͅ ̷̧̢̡̹̘̘̝̝̦͚͉͚͕̖̳̞̫̝͓̩̣͓̮͓̙̘̌͒́̊͆͒̆̀͌͌͜ͅ ̷͚̮͇̘̱̯͍͙̙̯̝̤̲̠̯̫͓̱͍̱͖̃̾ ̵̞̫̠̹͙̪̩̠̞̟̫̀͆͊̃͋͐͋̀̽̈́̌̕̕ ̵̡̢̠̖̘̰̮̣̤̙̍̅̄͒̃͛͑͒͘̚͜ ̸̩̠̑̑͊͑̍̄̒̇́̉͗͂͒͋̽̌̕̚͘̚͝͠ ̴̡̧̢̞̼̘͙̣̤̲̫̠̺̦͍̼̼͍̺͈̝̥͕̖̹͛̇̍̈́̀̂̑̓̋̑͌̑̓̅́̊̍͗̄͆͑̔͘͜͝ ̵̢̨͙̙̺̇̀͛̆̈́̓̒̓̃̿̉́͆͂͝͝͠ͅ ̵̨̟͙̟͕̥̠̩̆̐͂̑̎̐͋̌̏͜͠ ̶̧̢̨̛̫͇̮͉͈̠̳̦̜̱̬̳̻̳̯͗̄̌̎̇̄̓̊̓̈́̉̾̾́̀̃̈́́̑̈͘̕͘ ̸̨̨̱̤̯̟̮̗̰͚̯̮̫͎͖̙̬͉̰̳͚̒̀̅̎͛̄̌̌͛̿̅̂̿́̕ ̷̡̧̨͔͕̺͖̙͇͎̻̮̺̱̥̗̹̰͚̘̞̂́̆̍̐̄̓͂͌̎̉͂̂̈́̀͛̓͘̚̚͝ ̸̡̛̹̳̥͉͓͓̼̝͍̱̳͖̼̻̦̝͙̜̯̩̰̑̋̈́̈͑̒̂ͅ ̷̛̦̫͚̯͚̬̭̪̞̘̺͈̼̠̟̝̰̲͖̓͂̆͐̎̑̀̾̀̾̋̾͂̈́̔͘̚͘͝͝͠ ̶̡̼̰̝̳̯͓̲̼̖̹͚̓  ̶̡̡̨̛̛͇͓̘͙̰̫͖͔͇̺̠̤͓̪͔͈͉̲̮̥̲͖̹̰͚̝͔͉͓̱͓͕̼͙̤̖̯̻͈̘̭͎̝́͒̅̏̊͂̅̈́́͗̋̕͝ͅͅͅ ̶̢̢̡̡̡̡̛̹̖̳̜̟̖̘͕͙̲̭͉͕̝̠̫̹̼̖̜͇̘̱͍̪̦͕̖̣̭̫̫̘̝̟̱͕̘͂̉͑͑̑̔͌̐̋̔̄̏̓͋̉͂̑̈́̐͊̾͂̉͘͘̕͘͘ͅ ̷̲̼̬̰̼̝͖͌̿ ̷̧̢͈̩̙̜̰͙̯̝͔̲̲̩̰̤͎͎̦͒̇̐̈͂̋͗̿̿͑̚͝͝ ̵̢̢̧̗͚̩̱̭̺͕̬̥̣̤̥̦͇̫͇̝̥̜͖̜̤́͂ ̵͙̝͎̀̍̊̀̎̈́̅̔̐̎̾͂͆̌̐̇̉͗̋͋͘͘͝͝͝͝͝ͅ ̴̧̖̩̬͓̙̮͇͈̺̹͖́̌̀͊͑̊̓̿͂̅͒̊͋́͆̓͜͝͝͝͝ ̸̧͚͓̹̰̭͔͔̝͓͔̜̩͓̥̒̏̿́̈́̂͌̿͂̈́̍͊̿̂̀̓̾̚̚̕͜͠͝  ̶̢̢̺̻̳̭̘̩̙̼͍͈̣̰̠̠̹̑̈̔̈́͊̈́̉̏̏͆̓̃̕͝ͅ ̴̨̧̡̛͎̮̘̹̬͚̫̱̥̲͔͎͇͈̠̲͇̳̮̙̦̠͙͈̭̠͕͔͈͖͇̔̐̑͒́̔̒̈́̊̍͐̅͗͐͊̽̾́̑̉͌̾̀̀͌̾̚͘͜͜͝ͅͅͅͅ ̸̡̝̣̤̟͚̦͚̠̺̯̙̀̔́̓͗̔̓̀̕̚ ̸̨̨̡̞̩̠͔̰̱̦̦̝͎̦̖͉̩̜̱̰͎̗͓͌͑́́͜͜ ̷̧̪͎̦̞͇͍̗̠̯̦̪̯̠̥̿̈́̈͑̊̚̕͜ͅ ̵͍̗̮̹̪̦̬͇̣̻̭̻͒̒͛̾̈́̆̓̚ ̴̺̤̾́́̓̓̐̂̄͂̇͛̕ ̴̡̪͉̦͈̯̞̼͙̞̫̬̼̩̥̆͌̍̓̀͐̀͊̐̑͆͊́͌́̋̈̍̑͐̐͜͝͝͝͝ ̷̛̜̉̇̑́̍̔̄̒̃̅̚̕̕͝͝ ̶̡̖̰̠͖̙̬͓͇̜͚̲̼̝̖̓͆̎͊̑̍͐̈́́͝ ̶̢̠̮̮̺̹͙̤̮͈͕͚̱̠͖͈̻́̓̉̓͐̉́͒́̓͌̌̌͒̑́̈́̕ ̵̨̘̲̩͙̫̗̖̟͎͍͉̤͕͙̞̮̼͍̜̪̯͎̉ ̷̢̢̢̡͉̮̪̠͍̗̞͙̰̞͍̼̠͖̭̳͈̜̥̍́̓̽͒̽͘͜͜͝ ̴̡̢̛̭̼͓͉̯̲̱̻̂̀̍ ̵̢̛̛̼͔͖̮̝̼̜̠̗̱̼͍̣̭͖̬̗̘͙̜̥̹̺̐͂̍̔̌́͒̐̌̈́͆̾̎̚͝͝͝ͅ ̷̡̯̦͚̝͇͍̳̝̗̟͚̠̯̹͚͙̺̦̭̼͕̉̆́̂̋͒̋͊͊̾͂̌̍̽͊ ̶̢̧̡̟͕̪̱̰͙̼̠̪̠̥͎̫̞͎͕̩͖̥͙̰̲̙̭̇̈́̓̒͒̄̉̊̒̿̾͑͒̂͘̕͜͝ ̷̶̢̧̨̢̲̠̘̙̩̫̣͓̼̺͚̲͔̜͎̜͙̜̗͕̻̖͂͋̑͛̓̏̄̇͒̑̎̊̃̾̋͗̂̈́͊̅̀̈́̾̊͆̍͗̿̽̕̕͠͠ ̶̧̖̤̟͚͍̼͕̟̦̗͇̠̜͍̿̍̆͂̅͆͘͠ͅ ̵̡̡̧̧̧̢͇̺͈̠̰̪̬̥͌̂͂̿̕̕͜

̸̧̢̨͓̞̘̦͐̓̐̀̈̿̈́̒̋͂̔͒̽͗̂́͗̓̐̑̄̐́̚͠͝͝ ̶̛̛̯̠̬͕̂́̎͛̊͒̎͑̃͑̋̈́͑̎͋͌͒͠͠ ̴̨̬̞̭͔̼̫͍͙̖͈̜̥̲̥͎̦͕̟͔̭̍͆͌̈̒̎̒̌̒͗͂̔͛̈́͆͂̈̈́̕͜͠ ̷̯̼̻͔̼̣͔̟̄̏͝ ̵̡̢̡̣̞͈̠̯̙͕͍̘̪͎͇̗̦̖̦̪͔̜̝͕͇͔̬̍ ̴̧̛͖̫͎̺͙̪̮̜̫̣̦̥̗͔͉̭̙͕̙͈̲̫̙̈́̎̍̿͂̆̄̔̈́̋̀́́̌̐͊̐͛̈̄̓͒̚͜ͅ ̷̧̧̨̡̱͖̰̣̬̤̤͔̘͔̟̬̳̦̬͙͎͕͖̘̖̭̤͑͆͑͒͋̌̃̂͒͑̑͛̆̉̏̍̓̓̾̚̚͘͝͠͠ͅ ̸̛̤́̓̀̄̇͑̾͗̋̓͛͒̄ ̴̧̞͔̭̠̩̮͉̫͕͈͈͎̻̰͍̳̲̞̳̘̾̄͛͊̒͑̈̍͛̑͋̔̏́̍̈̇̂̊̅̐̕͝ ̶̛̫̲͎̰͕̘̩͙͓͍̥͓̬̽̏͐͐̂̏̑̽́̂̽̂̉͑̑̾̂̄̽̂͋͠͝ ̷̖͎̩̙͚̖̟̬̬̖̱̣͕̽̿̓́͗̇͒̀͌͋̀͊̽͒͂͗̕̕͠ ̶̡̡̨̛̛͇͓̘͙̰̫͖͔͇̺̠̤͓̪͔͈͉̲̮̥̲͖̹̰͚̝͔͉͓̱͓͕̼͙̤̖̯̻͈̘̭͎̝́͒̅̏̊͂̅̈́́͗̋̕͝ͅͅͅ ̶̢̢̡̡̡̡̛̹̖̳̜̟̖̘͕͙̲̭͉͕̝̠̫̹̼̖̜͇̘̱͍̪̦͕̖̣̭̫̫̘̝̟̱͕̘͂̉͑͑̑̔͌̐̋̔̄̏̓͋̉͂̑̈́̐͊̾͂̉͘͘̕͘͘ͅ ̷̧̧̛̻̫̗͖̟̬͔̘̣͚͇̇͐̈́̃͗̑͛̇̀̋̏͌͋̀̅͋̍̓̏͋̋̉̕͘͘͜͝͝ ̶̧̧̻͖͙͚͉̰̜͓̮̲͚͕̩͚̣̱̙̘͖͓͍̺̮̙͛̐̓̕ͅ ̸̢̘̰͇̙̮̣͖̺̥̜̲̜͚̦̙̯͕͍͉̹̯̟̤͈͖̔̕͜ͅ ̶̧̡̛̛̝̤̳̲̼̣̬̭̲͓͖͇͔͙̽͊͆́͐͌͒̊́̀̂͊͊̈́̒̆͆̈́͌͌̕͠ ̴̠̫̞̗̤͈̂̄͛̈̒̍̈́̀̄̂̿̋̿̄̐͑̉̔̐̏͘͝͝͝  ̴̢̨̢̨̩͓͓̬̪̙͕͎̱̫̣̗͉̖̜̠͈͈̼̥̳̩̻͍̯̲̱̱̯͇̫͍̖͇͖̝͈̙̬̍̇͑̃̋̈́̐͊͌͑̚̚͘͠͝ͅ ̴̨̨̧̢̨̧̟̱̫͉̻̥̼̫̣͈͚̬̜̣̣̯̫̣̬̗͇̟̼̫͕̟̮͔̠̆̀͆̂̇̎͂̈̉̀̊͗͛́́̽͗͐͐̈̈́͐͂͂̇̈̆̊̃͂͊̋̒̎̎̈́̚̕͜͜͠ ̵̧̢̧̡̢̻̩̬̳͍̲̦̖͓͉̲̙͈͚̯͍̞̖̖̞̯̠̞̬̳̘̪͕̪̞̱̇̒̅̉́̊̃̉̀͜ͅ ̶̷̡̡̧͖͎̼̭̖͓̲̭̩͚̲̬̰̭̥̞̭̻̜̠̼̩̮̥̜̗̱͎̗̗̪̗̟̰̥͔̣̞̬͕͓̜͙̬̹̗̠͈̹̼̖͉̺̮͚͖̙̓̿̄̈́͊͋̈͛͒̊͂̀͛͛́̋͋̀́̃̏̽̀̓̆͐̍́̆͌̎͆̋͋̎͊͆̈́̓́̓̀̇͂͊̀̚̕̕͝͝͝͠͠ ̸̧̛̛͕̲͔̜͉͇̂͑̅͛̊͑̄̽̈́͆͊̎̅̇̐̅̕͝ ̶̨̟̝͉̭̳̼̹͇̯͈̱͖̪͍̙̂̏̅̓̉̄̑̈́̒͂̃̊̔̓̃̔̎̕͘̕͠͠͠͠͝͝͝ ̷̨̳̙̺̲̭̳̠̩̱̞̖̯̦̭̾͋̌̂̿̒̓̎͗ͅ ̷̧̢̡̹̘̘̝̝̦͚͉͚͕̖̳̞̫̝͓̩̣͓̮͓̙̘̌͒́̊͆͒̆̀͌͌͜ͅ ̷͚̮͇̘̱̯͍͙̙̯̝̤̲̠̯̫͓̱͍̱͖̃̾ ̵̞̫̠̹͙̪̩̠̞̟̫̀͆͊̃͋͐͋̀̽̈́̌̕̕ ̵̡̢̠̖̘̰̮̣̤̙̍̅̄͒̃͛͑͒͘̚͜ ̸̩̠̑̑͊͑̍̄̒̇́̉͗͂͒͋̽̌̕̚͘̚͝͠ ̴̡̧̢̞̼̘͙̣̤̲̫̠̺̦͍̼̼͍̺͈̝̥͕̖̹͛̇̍̈́̀̂̑̓̋̑͌̑̓̅́̊̍͗̄͆͑̔͘͜͝ ̵̢̨͙̙̺̇̀͛̆̈́̓̒̓̃̿̉́͆͂͝͝͠ͅ ̵̨̟͙̟͕̥̠̩̆̐͂̑̎̐͋̌̏͜͠ ̶̧̢̨̛̫͇̮͉͈̠̳̦̜̱̬̳̻̳̯͗̄̌̎̇̄̓̊̓̈́̉̾̾́̀̃̈́́̑̈͘̕͘ ̸̨̨̱̤̯̟̮̗̰͚̯̮̫͎͖̙̬͉̰̳͚̒̀̅̎͛̄̌̌͛̿̅̂̿́̕ ̷̡̧̨͔͕̺͖̙͇͎̻̮̺̱̥̗̹̰͚̘̞̂́̆̍̐̄̓͂͌̎̉͂̂̈́̀͛̓͘̚̚͝ ̸̡̛̹̳̥͉͓͓̼̝͍̱̳͖̼̻̦̝͙̜̯̩̰̑̋̈́̈͑̒̂ͅ ̷̛̦̫͚̯͚̬̭̪̞̘̺͈̼̠̟̝̰̲͖̓͂̆͐̎̑̀̾̀̾̋̾͂̈́̔͘̚͘͝͝͠ ̶̡̼̰̝̳̯͓̲̼̖̹͚̓  ̶̡̡̨̛̛͇͓̘͙̰̫͖͔͇̺̠̤͓̪͔͈͉̲̮̥̲͖̹̰͚̝͔͉͓̱͓͕̼͙̤̖̯̻͈̘̭͎̝́͒̅̏̊͂̅̈́́͗̋̕͝ͅͅͅ ̶̢̢̡̡̡̡̛̹̖̳̜̟̖̘͕͙̲̭͉͕̝̠̫̹̼̖̜͇̘̱͍̪̦͕̖̣̭̫̫̘̝̟̱͕̘͂̉͑͑̑̔͌̐̋̔̄̏̓͋̉͂̑̈́̐͊̾͂̉͘͘̕͘͘ͅ ̷̲̼̬̰̼̝͖͌̿ ̷̧̢͈̩̙̜̰͙̯̝͔̲̲̩̰̤͎͎̦͒̇̐̈͂̋͗̿̿͑̚͝͝ ̵̢̢̧̗͚̩̱̭̺͕̬̥̣̤̥̦͇̫͇̝̥̜͖̜̤́͂ ̵͙̝͎̀̍̊̀̎̈́̅̔̐̎̾͂͆̌̐̇̉͗̋͋͘͘͝͝͝͝͝ͅ ̴̧̖̩̬͓̙̮͇͈̺̹͖́̌̀͊͑̊̓̿͂̅͒̊͋́͆̓͜͝͝͝͝ ̸̧͚͓̹̰̭͔͔̝͓͔̜̩͓̥̒̏̿́̈́̂͌̿͂̈́̍͊̿̂̀̓̾̚̚̕͜͠͝  ̶̢̢̺̻̳̭̘̩̙̼͍͈̣̰̠̠̹̑̈̔̈́͊̈́̉̏̏͆̓̃̕͝ͅ ̴̨̧̡̛͎̮̘̹̬͚̫̱̥̲͔͎͇͈̠̲͇̳̮̙̦̠͙͈̭̠͕͔͈͖͇̔̐̑͒́̔̒̈́̊̍͐̅͗͐͊̽̾́̑̉͌̾̀̀͌̾̚͘͜͜͝ͅͅͅͅ ̸̡̝̣̤̟͚̦͚̠̺̯̙̀̔́̓͗̔̓̀̕̚ ̸̨̨̡̞̩̠͔̰̱̦̦̝͎̦̖͉̩̜̱̰͎̗͓͌͑́́͜͜ ̷̧̪͎̦̞͇͍̗̠̯̦̪̯̠̥̿̈́̈͑̊̚̕͜ͅ ̵͍̗̮̹̪̦̬͇̣̻̭̻͒̒͛̾̈́̆̓̚ ̴̺̤̾́́̓̓̐̂̄͂̇͛̕ ̴̡̪͉̦͈̯̞̼͙̞̫̬̼̩̥̆͌̍̓̀͐̀͊̐̑͆͊́͌́̋̈̍̑͐̐͜͝͝͝͝ ̷̛̜̉̇̑́̍̔̄̒̃̅̚̕̕͝͝ ̶̡̖̰̠͖̙̬͓͇̜͚̲̼̝̖̓͆̎͊̑̍͐̈́́͝ ̶̢̠̮̮̺̹͙̤̮͈͕͚̱̠͖͈̻́̓̉̓͐̉́͒́̓͌̌̌͒̑́̈́̕ ̵̨̘̲̩͙̫̗̖̟͎͍͉̤͕͙̞̮̼͍̜̪̯͎̉ ̷̷̢̢̢̡̡͉̮̪̠͍̗̞͙̰̞͍̼̠͖̭̳͈̜̥̯̦͚̝͇͍̳̝̗̟͚̠̯̹͚͙̺̦̭̼͕̍́̓̽͒̽̉̆́̂̋͒̋͊͊̾͂̌̍̽͊͘͜͜͝

̴̛̹̥̲̤̈́̀̈́̎̚͜ͅ ̶̢̢̭̹̳̦̹̓͛́̏̀͆̅͒͒ ̵͔̙̫͚̹̯̰͔̹̠̄̋͜ ̷̝̫̱̮̳͉̟̞̣̀̂̈́̏̽́̌̀̈́͛ ̶͓̖̩̠͚͍̺̙̍̍̎͜ ̴̨̪͙̠͕̖̘̒̎̂̎̈́͌͑̏͋̀̊̚̚ ̶̺͙̱̘͎͛̀̅̓ͅ ̴̭̩͈̳̳͓̝͇̠̬̟͇̞̼̌̉̓͌̇̒̌ͅ ̵̧̛̦̻̬̯̖̹͙̤̅͆͒̐̑̐͘͜͠ ̶̢̢̢̘͙̥̗̖͎̲̝͓͚̰̽͆̌̍̽̋̎̆͑͜͜͝ ̷̨͉̾̓̀͛̅̈͑̔̓͒͌͝͝ ̴̨̨̞̹͔̭̟̀̑̽͊̃͑̄͋̓́̕ͅ ̸͓͇͈͉͔͚̎̓̽̋̂̔̏̒͛͊̊͆͘ ̷̖̞̦̻͉̺͇͍̠̺͎̔̄̃̋̾͐͋̀̈́͆̈́͊̚͝ ̵̢̡̛̩̳͉̱̙̘̘̱͓̮̠͚͙̌͂̑̿̽̋̌́͊̍͠͝ ̷̪͍̞̋̎̏̈́̾̐͘͝ͅ ̵̛̞̫͇̗̑͊́ ̸̡̱̠̙̱͉̳̤̭̞̉̅̄͋̅͒ ̷̭̣̙̼̗̻̠̄̉̋̅̊̑͂͋̑̂̐̓̽̎͝ ̷̡̢̖͕͎̬̣̩͕͈̭͙̭̆̇̿̾̿̆̄͒̚͜ ̶̙̫̜̜̬̼̰̻͌̈́͑̓͛͑̓͐̋̀̎͜ͅ ̴̢̢͙̳̬̦͚̼͙̳̭̟͉̬̬̃̌ ̴̡̹̙̰̓͐̀̀̐̽̎̿͜ ̴̞͖̫̘̪̈́ ̵͍̝̠͉̀̈́͐͘͜ ̴̧̧̪̦͚̜̤̼̬͕̞̻̤̞͓̯̉̄̒ ̴̨̡͙̠͎͌̃̋͘ ̸̨̧̠̰͍̪̫͇̣̥̭͈͓̩̲̅͠ ̷̛͙͉͕̺̝̘̗̮̝̺̳͚͌͗͋̈́͐̐̂͛͠ ̸̨̦̼̘͖͑̀̓ ̷̨̗͌̍̾̋̀͆͗̈́̃̉̽͒͘̚̚͠ ̸̢̨̲̪̠̪͓̻̿̅̈̈̇̚͠ ̴̛̤̦̣̤͎̲̖̩̓̒̑̽̒̚ ̷̰̖̫̱͎̓͋͛͑̀̇́̎̈́͌̂̎̒͝͠͝ ̸̡̧̯͛͌̐͑͌̓̐̇̀̋̆̃̂͘͝͝ ̵̡̡̺̩͓̺̫̫̺͎̫̝̝̓ ̶̨̦̠͙̦̞͉̬̹̯̰̭̏͐͠͝ ̷̢̢̙̺̹͓̪̄̉́͌̀͑͌̇̋̀́̈̈́̕ ̴̱͚̞̲̰̳͂͜ ̵̢̭̭̰̖̻̘̹̹̖̼̻͔͗̄̓͜ ̴͓͋̅͛̇͊͗̕ ̷̨̨͔̓̓ ̶̨͔̣̣̭̺̞͔̌̏̀̄ͅ ̸̩͖͇̼̺̟̇̄̋̈́͋͑̍̽̌̆͘͘ ̴̢̛̛̜͚͔͚̼̬͇͓̻̙̱̪̪͇̀̎̆͆̽̍̈́̈́̉͂̐̇͠ ̸̧̤̪̲̝͇̫͎̯͈͐͑ ̶̮̟̯̘̟̳͗͌͋ ̴̨̨̨̹̪͔͔̳͇̗͚̥̀͒̂́͗̇̏̚̕ ̸̢̬̈́͂͑̏͛́͘ ̷̡̢͚͖̺͚̱̥̪̦̝̰͈̀̂̏̌̎́͛̒̃̇̀̿͘͜͝͠ͅ ̵̨̰͙͈͎͚͛̐̀͆̌ ̴̢̛̳̝͙͖̭͙̟̝͚̹̥̲̭͑͌̎̌́̏̀̽͘͘͜͝ ̶̢͖̲͕͉̗̭̭̭͇͍̜̼̞̆̅̈́͗́͂͐̈́̌̌̃̉̌̃̑͝ ̷̢̨̧̙͎̫̜̤̤̯̟̪̮̮̀̽͜ͅ ̴̨͚̪̅̒̊̓̐̉ ̴̪͈̫̗̜͗̿̄̕͜͝ ̷̢̪̯͕́̐́͌̒̌̒̕̚ ̴̠͍̥̞̰̣͖͙͂̌̔͑ ̸̡̲͉̰̪̱̫̰͖̰͔͍̜̱̬̥̅͐̈́͛̌͐̈́̑̊͗̋͌̈́̀̀̅ ̵̨̛͔̳͙̄̌̊͊́̒̎̿̐͑̕ ̵̡̩̖̣̬͐̈́̊̈́̕͝ ̶̨̢̺͚̲͔̜͎̜͙̜̗͕̻̖̾̊͆̍͗̿̽̕ ̶̧̖̤̟͚͍̼͕̟̦̗͇̠̜͍̿̍̆͂̅͆͘͠ͅ ̵̡̡̧̧̧̢͇̺͈̠̰̪̬̥͌̂͂̿̕̕͜

̵ ̶ ̸ ̸ ̷ ̴ ̵ ̴ ̷̨̡̦̗̣̪̫̻̟̗̗̈́̍͗̀̊̕ ̴̠͌̎ ̶̠̗̭̗̻́͌ ̴̮̑͠  ̸̢͚̩̤͔̬̙́͆ ̵̡̭̣̖̔̃̇́̀̉͐̀͋͋̆ ̸͇̬́̐ ̷̨̩͈̣̰̞̤̫̺̯̹̮̱͓̠̇̈́̋͋̕ͅͅ  ̴̢̧̞̩̖͉͓̫̯̲̟̟͚̗̻̺̩̘̥̤̭̍̂̃͐̇̉́́͂͂̊̽̂̕͜͠  ̶̢̧̮͔̯͎͖̫̤̞͊̈́̿͑  ̷̡̢̛̯̝̖̖͚̤̮̖̱̻̬̌̔͑͊̓̓̅̾̐̂̎̍́́̒͊͋͗̈́͘͘̚͝͝   ̷̡̢̗̳͈͓̯̹͍̻̰̱̤̠̦͙̬̝̱̪̲̖͉̘̹̩͉̞̙̩͙̫̲̬̐͗̇̏́̔́̆̄̾̑͆͘͘͜ ̴̨̢̖̜͇̻̜̥̺̱͇̻̠̘̜͙͍̞̘̘̫̳̩͔̳̪͗́̀̿͆͌̈́́͋̎̑͑̐̒̈́̅͂̀̈́̍̒̕̚͠͠   ̷̢̨͎̭̩̫̤̳̱̠͉͖̙̤̫̱̑̋̄̈́̄͆͐̈́͌̃̈̒͒͆̾̋͌́̊͠͠ͅ   ̸̛͎̥̈̾̈́̽̂̓̇̓̈́̂̒͋̋̋͒̾̈͋̚̕͝ͅ  ̶̗̥̝̯̖̪̹̼̖̮͑̅͗̌͗̊̅̎͂̂  ̵̧̛͓̫͓̤̰̠̻̰̮̯͕̬͖͚͕̤͕̹̱͂͋̀̀̒͛͌̅̒̅̋̓̔̀͂̂̽̈́̋̍͗̈́́͒́̃̚͜͝ ̷̨̩͈̣̰̞̤̫̺̯̹̮̱͓̠̇̈́̋͋̕ͅͅ ̶̨̢̛̣̖̱͇̤̟̤̤̝̝̤̤̣͙͐̾͂̎͆͑͛͝͝ ̸̧̧̜̞͇̳͙̦̩̫̦͙̑͐̏̈̇̃̐̾̄͋͝͝ ̴̢͎̦̘̬̯̹̣̐͆ ̴̢̧̞̩̖͉͓̫̯̲̟̟͚̗̻̺̩̘̥̤̭̍̂̃͐̇̉́́͂͂̊̽̂̕͜͠  ̴̭̖͓̬̱͙̯̟͇̬̮̤̹̳̙̯̻͌̃͆͌͗̊̅͂̓͌̒̃̒̏  ̵̧̧̤̗͚͉̬̝͉̺̗͔͉͚͇̩̬͙̩̦̰͍̽̈́  ̵̢̨̧̤̤̹͎̤̹̻̘̮̝̠̝͖̠̠͔͈̩̞͈̀͂̓̔͘ ̸̡̛͚̖͙̣̘̪̽ ̴̳̩̖̲͉͕͈͙̗͊͗̀͋̿̐ͅ ̶̶̳̦͚͑̌͑͂  ̴̴ ̴ ̷ ̵ ̸

 

—Vita, please! He's dying! Save him!—

—It's futile—

—I'm not even sorry—

—I love you all… so… so much—

—Get the fuck away from him!—

—Of course not. This is all his choice, and this is the consequence—

—He didn't want to die either! If there's one thing I know, he'd want to stay with us! Let me fight for his place here!—

—Rean—

 ̶̨͕͇̘͛ ̴̨̬̮̱̈́̓̓͑̈́̈́̃̐͘̕͜ ̶͚͙̘̘̬͑̈́̐̔̂̀ ̸̳͝ ̴͖̳̗͚̈́̾͜ͅ ̵̰̙̀̓ͅ ̷̠̲̅̋̈́̿̋́̿̈́ ̷̨͎̠͇̆͛̾͘ ̸̨͉̮̪̝͇͓̲̒͒̒͆̎̑͐̋̓ ̸̥͓̼͍̄̌̏̌̎̽͑ͅ ̷̘͋̎͘̚ ̴̼̙͕͕̝͇̞̝̒̽͛̓͆̄͊̒͝ ̵̟̀̕͘ ̴̣̭̞́̄ ̵̧͎̩̟͈̟͖͓̟̽ͅ ̵̡̥̙̖͖̳̮̩͔͑̿͂́́͘͜͝͠ ̸͖̹͈̥̟̪̮̹͊͌̆͑̀͋̃̓̎̓ ̶̻̥̓́̊̄̇̒͒̚ ̵͚̾̿̋̔̅̃̕͘ ̶̗̥͖̀͒̽̒̃́͆͌ ̷͙̲̽͊̓̒̎̃̉ ̷̢̧̞͓̖͉̤͗̐̄͊̃͛̌͌͘ ̷̛̣̱̼͊͒͂̌͋̇͘ ̸̱̠̞̥̘̮̈́ ̴̛̫̗̩̓͊͑͑̋͛̉͒̐ ̵͙̮̯͉̅̂̓̒̔̓̅̀̕͜͝ ̵͎̱̭̞͙̮̱͕̏́̒͗̇͗́ ̷̥̙͆̌́͜ͅ ̵̧̡̬̭̬̼͍͕̦̝̇̐́͗͗̕͝͝ ̸̼̻̎̂̋̋̍͜ ̶͈̾̽̅̈́ ̸̭̏͘ ̷̨̮̞̖̬͔̹̙̦̾

 ̴̛̹̥̲̤̈́̀̈́̎̚͜ͅ ̶̢̢̭̹̳̦̹̓͛́̏̀͆̅͒͒ ̵͔̙̫͚̹̯̰͔̹̠̄̋͜ ̷̝̫̱̮̳͉̟̞̣̀̂̈́̏̽́̌̀̈́͛ ̶͓̖̩̠͚͍̺̙̍̍̎͜ ̴̨̪͙̠͕̖̘̒̎̂̎̈́͌͑̏͋̀̊̚̚ ̶̺͙̱̘͎͛̀̅̓ͅ ̴̭̩͈̳̳͓̝͇̠̬̟͇̞̼̌̉̓͌̇̒̌ͅ ̵̧̛̦̻̬̯̖̹͙̤̅͆͒̐̑̐͘͜͠ ̶̢̢̢̘͙̥̗̖͎̲̝͓͚̰̽͆̌̍̽̋̎̆͑͜͜͝ ̷̨͉̾̓̀͛̅̈͑̔̓͒͌͝͝ ̴̨̨̞̹͔̭̟̀̑̽͊̃͑̄͋̓́̕ͅ ̸͓͇͈͉͔͚̎̓̽̋̂̔̏̒͛͊̊͆͘ ̷̖̞̦̻͉̺͇͍̠̺͎̔̄̃̋̾͐͋̀̈́͆̈́͊̚͝ ̵̢̡̛̩̳͉̱̙̘̘̱͓̮̠͚͙̌͂̑̿̽̋̌́͊̍͠͝ ̷̪͍̞̋̎̏̈́̾̐͘͝ͅ ̵̛̞̫͇̗̑͊́ ̸̡̱̠̙̱͉̳̤̭̞̉̅̄͋̅͒ ̷̭̣̙̼̗̻̠̄̉̋̅̊̑͂͋̑̂̐̓̽̎͝ ̷̡̢̖͕͎̬̣̩͕͈̭͙̭̆̇̿̾̿̆̄͒̚͜ ̶̙̫̜̜̬̼̰̻͌̈́͑̓͛͑̓͐̋̀̎͜ͅ ̴̢̢͙̳̬̦͚̼͙̳̭̟͉̬̬̃̌ ̴̡̹̙̰̓͐̀̀̐̽̎̿͜ ̴̞͖̫̘̪̈́ ̵͍̝̠͉̀̈́͐͘͜ ̴̧̧̪̦͚̜̤̼̬͕̞̻̤̞͓̯̉̄̒ ̴̨̡͙̠͎͌̃̋͘ ̸̨̧̠̰͍̪̫͇̣̥̭͈͓̩̲̅͠ ̷̛͙͉͕̺̝̘̗̮̝̺̳͚͌͗͋̈́͐̐̂͛͠ ̸̨̦̼̘͖͑̀̓ ̷̨̗͌̍̾̋̀͆͗̈́̃̉̽͒͘̚̚͠ ̸̢̨̲̪̠̪͓̻̿̅̈̈̇̚͠ ̴̛̤̦̣̤͎̲̖̩̓̒̑̽̒̚ ̷̰̖̫̱͎̓͋͛͑̀̇́̎̈́͌̂̎̒͝͠͝ ̸̡̧̯͛͌̐͑͌̓̐̇̀̋̆̃̂͘͝͝ ̵̡̡̺̩͓̺̫̫̺͎̫̝̝̓ ̶̨̦̠͙̦̞͉̬̹̯̰̭̏͐͠͝ ̷̢̢̙̺̹͓̪̄̉́͌̀͑͌̇̋̀́̈̈́̕ ̴̱͚̞̲̰̳͂͜ ̵̢̭̭̰̖̻̘̹̹̖̼̻͔͗̄̓͜ ̴͓͋̅͛̇͊͗̕ ̷̨̨͔̓̓ ̶̨͔̣̣̭̺̞͔̌̏̀̄ͅ ̸̩͖͇̼̺̟̇̄̋̈́͋͑̍̽̌̆͘͘ ̴̢̛̛̜͚͔͚̼̬͇͓̻̙̱̪̪͇̀̎̆͆̽̍̈́̈́̉͂̐̇͠ ̸̧̤̪̲̝͇̫͎̯͈͐͑ ̶̮̟̯̘̟̳͗͌͋ ̴̨̨̨̹̪͔͔̳͇̗͚̥̀͒̂́͗̇̏̚̕ ̸̢̬̈́͂͑̏͛́͘ ̷̡̢͚͖̺͚̱̥̪̦̝̰͈̀̂̏̌̎́͛̒̃̇̀̿͘͜͝͠ͅ ̵̨̰͙͈͎͚͛̐̀͆̌ ̴̢̛̳̝͙͖̭͙̟̝͚̹̥̲̭͑͌̎̌́̏̀̽͘͘͜͝ ̶̢͖̲͕͉̗̭̭̭͇͍̜̼̞̆̅̈́͗́͂͐̈́̌̌̃̉̌̃̑͝ ̷̢̨̧̙͎̫̜̤̤̯̟̪̮̮̀̽͜ͅ ̴̨͚̪̅̒̊̓̐̉ ̴̪͈̫̗̜͗̿̄̕͜͝ ̷̢̪̯͕́̐́͌̒̌̒̕̚ ̴̠͍̥̞̰̣͖͙͂̌̔͑ ̸̡̲͉̰̪̱̫̰͖̰͔͍̜̱̬̥̅͐̈́͛̌͐̈́̑̊͗̋͌̈́̀̀̅ ̵̨̛͔̳͙̄̌̊͊́̒̎̿̐͑̕ ̵̡̩̖̣̬͐̈́̊̈́̕͝ ̶̨̢̺͚̲͔̜͎̜͙̜̗͕̻̖̾̊͆̍͗̿̽̕ ̶̧̖̤̟͚͍̼͕̟̦̗͇̠̜͍̿̍̆͂̅͆͘͠ͅ ̵̡̡̧̧̧̢͇̺͈̠̰̪̬̥͌̂͂̿̕̕͜

 ̸̛̫̉̾̒ ̵̪̗̀̿͋ ̷̖͐̋̇͗ ̵̘̋̅̂ ̶̢͐͂̌͝ ̴̻̥̃͑̓͗ ̵̡̜̹͍͂͘͝ ̷̬̫͕͌̂ ̴̺̺̠͍̇̉̀͝ ̸̴̢̛͍͔̮̹̥̲̤̄̈́̀̈́̎͘̚͜͝͝ͅ ̶̢̢̭̹̳̦̹̓͛́̏̀͆̅͒͒ ̵͔̙̫͚̹̯̰͔̹̠̄̋͜ ̷̝̫̱̮̳͉̟̞̣̀̂̈́̏̽́̌̀̈́͛ ̶͓̖̩̠͚͍̺̙̍̍̎͜ ̴̨̪͙̠͕̖̘̒̎̂̎̈́͌͑̏͋̀̊̚̚ ̶̺͙̱̘͎͛̀̅̓ͅ ̴̭̩͈̳̳͓̝͇̠̬̟͇̞̼̌̉̓͌̇̒̌ͅ ̵̧̛̦̻̬̯̖̹͙̤̅͆͒̐̑̐͘͜͠ ̶̢̢̢̘͙̥̗̖͎̲̝͓͚̰̽͆̌̍̽̋̎̆͑͜͜͝ ̷̨͉̾̓̀͛̅̈͑̔̓͒͌͝͝ ̴̨̨̞̹͔̭̟̀̑̽͊̃͑̄͋̓́̕ͅ ̸͓͇͈͉͔͚̎̓̽̋̂̔̏̒͛͊̊͆͘ ̷̖̞̦̻͉̺͇͍̠̺͎̔̄̃̋̾͐͋̀̈́͆̈́͊̚͝ ̵̢̡̛̩̳͉̱̙̘̘̱͓̮̠͚͙̌͂̑̿̽̋̌́͊̍͠͝ ̷̪͍̞̋̎̏̈́̾̐͘͝ͅ ̵̛̞̫͇̗̑͊́ ̸̡̱̠̙̱͉̳̤̭̞̉̅̄͋̅͒ ̷̭̣̙̼̗̻̠̄̉̋̅̊̑͂͋̑̂̐̓̽̎͝ ̷̡̢̖͕͎̬̣̩͕͈̭͙̭̆̇̿̾̿̆̄͒̚͜ ̶̙̫̜̜̬̼̰̻͌̈́͑̓͛͑̓͐̋̀̎͜ͅ ̴̢̢͙̳̬̦͚̼͙̳̭̟͉̬̬̃̌ ̴̡̹̙̰̓͐̀̀̐̽̎̿͜ ̴̞͖̫̘̪̈́ ̵͍̝̠͉̀̈́͐͘͜ ̴̧̧̪̦͚̜̤̼̬͕̞̻̤̞͓̯̉̄̒ ̴̨̡͙̠͎͌̃̋͘ ̸̨̧̠̰͍̪̫͇̣̥̭͈͓̩̲̅͠ ̷̛͙͉͕̺̝̘̗̮̝̺̳͚͌͗͋̈́͐̐̂͛͠ ̸̨̦̼̘͖͑̀̓ ̷̨̗͌̍̾̋̀͆͗̈́̃̉̽͒͘̚̚͠ ̸̢̨̲̪̠̪͓̻̿̅̈̈̇̚͠ ̴̛̤̦̣̤͎̲̖̩̓̒̑̽̒̚ ̷̰̖̫̱͎̓͋͛͑̀̇́̎̈́͌̂̎̒͝͠͝ ̸̡̧̯͛͌̐͑͌̓̐̇̀̋̆̃̂͘͝͝ ̵̡̡̺̩͓̺̫̫̺͎̫̝̝̓ ̶̨̦̠͙̦̞͉̬̹̯̰̭̏͐͠͝ ̷̢̢̙̺̹͓̪̄̉́͌̀͑͌̇̋̀́̈̈́̕ ̴̱͚̞̲̰̳͂͜ ̵̢̭̭̰̖̻̘̹̹̖̼̻͔͗̄̓͜ ̴͓͋̅͛̇͊͗̕ ̷̨̨͔̓̓ ̶̨͔̣̣̭̺̞͔̌̏̀̄ͅ ̸̩͖͇̼̺̟̇̄̋̈́͋͑̍̽̌̆͘͘ ̴̢̛̛̜͚͔͚̼̬͇͓̻̙̱̪̪͇̀̎̆͆̽̍̈́̈́̉͂̐̇͠ ̸̧̤̪̲̝͇̫͎̯͈͐͑ ̶̮̟̯̘̟̳͗͌͋ ̴̨̨̨̹̪͔͔̳͇̗͚̥̀͒̂́͗̇̏̚̕ ̸̢̬̈́͂͑̏͛́͘ ̷̡̢͚͖̺͚̱̥̪̦̝̰͈̀̂̏̌̎́͛̒̃̇̀̿͘͜͝͠ͅ ̵̨̰͙͈͎͚͛̐̀͆̌ ̴̢̛̳̝͙͖̭͙̟̝͚̹̥̲̭͑͌̎̌́̏̀̽͘͘͜͝ ̶̢͖̲͕͉̗̭̭̭͇͍̜̼̞̆̅̈́͗́͂͐̈́̌̌̃̉̌̃̑͝ ̷̢̨̧̙͎̫̜̤̤̯̟̪̮̮̀̽͜ͅ ̴̨͚̪̅̒̊̓̐̉ ̴̪͈̫̗̜͗̿̄̕͜͝ ̷̢̪̯͕́̐́͌̒̌̒̕̚ ̴̠͍̥̞̰̣͖͙͂̌̔͑ ̸̡̲͉̰̪̱̫̰͖̰͔͍̜̱̬̥̅͐̈́͛̌͐̈́̑̊͗̋͌̈́̀̀̅ ̵̨̛͔̳͙̄̌̊͊́̒̎̿̐͑̕ ̵̡̩̖̣̬͐̈́̊̈́̕͝ ̶̨̢̺͚̲͔̜͎̜͙̜̗͕̻̖̾̊͆̍͗̿̽̕ ̶̧̖̤̟͚͍̼͕̟̦̗͇̠̜͍̿̍̆͂̅͆͘͠ͅ ̵̡̡̧̧̧̢͇̺͈̠̰̪̬̥͌̂͂̿̕̕͜

 

Fuck. These nightmares are driving him crazier than being put on a leash by Osborne. He lets out a deep exhale. His hands reach up to cover his face, trying to will his pounding heart to stop leaping out of his chest. Fear. Desperation. Grief. He can name all the emotions the strange dream shackles him with, but he doesn’t know why or what the dream is even about.

What the hell did he do to have to deal with this? Or is this Cayenne’s ghost way of haunting him?

Eventually, his breaths slow down. The onslaught of rain against the windows is heavy in his ears, but not loud enough to drown out Crow’s thoughts.

Really, it wouldn't take much energy to just grab the damn gun, point it at his brain, and pull the trigger. It would be so easy to stop feeling. To stop thinking. 

To stop living.

Nausea climbs up his throat.

Crow groans as he tosses the orbal gun at the wall opposite of him. He really fucked up big time. How did he start out on a revenge quest for Osborne’s head only to end up working for the fucker? Why didn't he just die?

Why is he unable to kill himself now? Why does his body shut down at the thought of suicide? He has never been scared of death before. Surely death would be preferable over his fate. 

A shuddering exhale escapes him.

Closing his eyes, he thinks about the only things that make life more bearable. Towa. ‘Gelica. George. The members of Class VII who convinced him to toss away his sniper. They're all supposedly the reasons why he isn't taking his life right now. Keyword: supposedly.  

Despite how he knows they wouldn’t approve of him acting so pathetic, he can’t help but feel so damn lonely. So damn trapped. Just thinking of getting out of bed and acting as Osborne’s puppet is crushing his chest. Just looking at the window makes him want to crash through and be free.

Fuck. It’s so tempting. So, so damn tempting. He hates this. He hates his life. Is he a bad person for not caring about what his friends think anymore? This isn’t what he signed up for.  Piloting a giant robot to whoop Calvard’s ass is one thing, but doing it to annex Crossbell? After the hell he raised for what Osborne did to Jurai? This isn’t atonement. Not repentance. Nor Redemption.

This is just against everything he stood for.

It's like everything he did has been for nothing. 

He was… so stupid…

 

His hands slapped his cheeks.

Okay, stop it. Stop it. His thoughts are becoming too pathetic even for himself.

He moves to sit up, only to be assaulted by the world's worst headache. How much beer did he chug down last night? Fuck.

Emptying the glass of water in his nightstand, he stumbles towards the bathroom. He doesn't bother turning the light on, not wanting to see the mess that is his reflection. Really, the charming and witty Crow Armbrust is nowhere to be seen, nor is the indomitable C. There's only a lost and pathetic zombie here.

After puking and finishing his business, he leaves the bathroom, only to find an even bigger headache leaning against his door.

“My, it’s filthy in here. Very unfitting for our hero.”

Ugh, can't Crow drown in his misery alone for a day? These assholes are working him like a slave.

“Fuck off, Rufus.”

He can't stand this man and his fake smile. It pisses him off to no end. He just wants to punch that stupid face of his.

“As much as I would like to leave, it has come to my attention that your state of mind is too unstable for our liking. It wouldn't look well if Erebonia’s national hero committed suicide so soon.”

What the actual f— “You are the second-to-last person I want to talk about my mental health! Hell, I'd take Scarecrow over you!”

“Fair enough, but unfortunately my fellow Ironbloods are occupied in other parts of the country, so you will have to settle for me.”

“This is hell.”

“A hell that you brought onto yourself,” Rufus smirks. “Just imagine, if you didn't side with Class VII during the Civil War, you would most likely be dead like most of your terrorist companions.”

Crow grits his teeth, kicking an empty can of beer on the floor over to the bastard. “For the sake of everyone else, please never give therapy to anyone ever again. You suck at it.”

Despite the insults, Rufus is unfazed. “Do you think a former terrorist leader is deserving of therapy? What nonsense. I’m simply here to remind you that people like you don’t have the privilege to complain about the way your life turned out, especially after selfishly ruining the lives of many others.”

“I doubt helping out your bastard of a leader is giving me much points in redemption.”

“We’ve gone over this many times. You provide damage mitigation in these trying times. Isn’t that honorable? That’s why they call you a hero, after all.”

“Or maybe you wouldn’t be able to easily wage these fucking wars if I didn’t exist.”

“If not you, then another poor soul would be dragged into this mess and take your place. Look at it this way, you’re sparing them the burden of being Erebonia’s dear hero.”

Crow rolls his eyes and kicks another beer can toward Rufus. “Wow, so motivational. I’m totally gonna stop thinking about offing myself now.”

Rufus lets out that annoying chuckle of his as he finally stops leaning against the door. Crow can finally see a glimmer of hope when he sees his hand grasp the doorknob.

“I’m glad you could be honest with me. This makes things easier.”

“What?”

The door swings open, and Crow has to blink twice at the sight.

“Crow!”

Rufus steps away and slinks away like the damn snake he is while Towa, ‘Gelica, and George tumble through the door and tackle Crow to the floor. There’s a thud and a bunch of beer cans rattle and roll away.

“Aidios, you reek!” ‘Gelica scolds him, nose wrinkling up in disgust. “You smell worse than Sara!”

Crow groans, his headache now stabbing him in the brain. “Shut up. At least her coworkers don’t suck ass.”

He doesn’t know what’s worse, the pitying looks that ‘Gelica and George wear, or the frown of deep concern marring Towa’s face. 

“I’m sorry,” Towa stares down at him solemnly. He takes everything back, this reaction is definitely much worse.

“There’s nothing to be sorry about,” he grunts out, unable to maintain eye contact with any of them. There’s a feeling burning deep within him. It’s shame. “You’re not the ones who’ve been making stupid decisions every turn of your life. Karma’s just being a bitch to me.”

“I know you’re far from perfect, Crow,” George says. “But don’t convince yourself that this is what you deserve. Forget what Rufus said.”

“Rufus is the bitch here, forget about him,” ‘Gelica nods in agreement. 

“Yeah, Rufus is a b- bitch…”

They all stare widely at Towa, who promptly covers her mouth in embarrassment. ‘Gelica then wraps her in a tight hug and yells, “Oh my goddess, I need a recording! Towa, say that again!”

“No! I’m not saying that ever again!”

A breath of air escapes from Crow. Can that even be called a laugh? How long has it been since he had a good laugh? Oh whatever, he’ll take what he can get… and he can appreciate all their attempts to cheer him up. 

Feeling a slight smile at the edge of his mouth, he speaks up. “Alright, I know you all didn’t come here to call Rufus a bitch. What are you all here for, really?”

They all stare at him like he’s stupid. 

“It’s been almost two months since we last saw each other, Crow!” Towa suddenly yells at him. “Do we need a reason to come see you?! Honestly, I wish we could’ve visited earlier, maybe we could’ve made things easier for you.” Her voice softens. “Maybe you wouldn’t have had to carry your dark thoughts alone…”

“Yeah, we should’ve kidnapped you from day one,” ‘Gelica laughs.

George snorts. “Well, it’s better late than never. Let’s just kidnap him now.”

Without any warning, ‘Gelica and George pull his arms and force him to get up. The room spins, but his friends prove to be more disorienting than his unsteady vision.

“Wait, what?”

Again, they stare at him with blank, unimpressed looks.

Towa is the one to enlighten him. “I know recent events haven’t been kind to you, but did you forget that there was a reward to all this madness?”

He stares at them like they all grew eight heads.

“Graduation!” ‘Gelica winks at him and pats him on the shoulder. “Remember? We promised we’d graduate together.”

“I’m not graduating though. My grades were already crap. The fact that I was forced to ditch class for the last two months means there’s no way I can graduate on time. The promise is broken.”

“Well, you’re right about that,” Towa says. “But that doesn’t mean we still can’t keep our promise. You can be there for us when we graduate, and we’ll be there for you when you graduate. Even if it takes another year.”

“But—”

“Did you turn into a masochist while we were away?” George pats him on the back. “Come on, you deserve a break.”

Crow’s mouth is dry while his eyes shine with tears. They drag him out of the dark, filthy room.

“Let’s go back home.”

 

Chapter 66 - A Miracle No One Knows

[One… Two…]

There is a ghost. No one knows his name. No one knows his past, present, or future. Not even the ghost himself knows. All he knows is that he has one wish.

He wanders through Erebonia, looking for people he can’t quite remember. He travels through the mountains, the highlands, the snow, the lakes until he finds himself in a place with heavy fog. A place where lino flowers bloom. Trista, the place is called. Trista, there’s something in this place calling for him.

He wanders in and out buildings, in and out rooms, until he happens to find the sight of two oddly familiar students sitting at a table in the library. They both have papers laid out in front of them, both untouched. It looks like math homework. Calculus, specifically. While it is a difficult subject, he doubts that these two would have trouble with even the first question. After all, they’re one of the smartest people he knows. 

Their names… Ah. Machias and Jusis.

Giving them another glance, it looks less like they don’t know how to solve the problems and more like they can’t focus. Their eyes are so… distant. Like their minds are stuck on something else. It’s a strange sight, especially since the two of them are together. From his faint memory, he recalls how much they used to purposely annoy each other.

They were always so lively. Now, they lack the fire that used to fuel their every argument.

This won’t do.

Being an invisible ghost does have its drawbacks, but it also has its perks. He can still interact with objects, just that it takes a lot of control to make sure it doesn't slip through his body. He grabs a pencil—miraculously unnoticed by the two—and starts writing stuff down on their papers.

Of course, he doesn’t write the correct answers. Instead, he writes down yes and no to fill the space where the quadratic equations should be. Actually, why stop there? He starts writing stuff like pancakes and headpats. Inspired by a certain novel, he even writes Jusis x Machias <3 on both their papers. That will surely knock them out of their gloom for a moment.

And, sure enough, the moment he drops the pencil to the ground, the two snap their attention toward the pencil, then toward each other, and then toward their homework.

“Regnitz, did you seriously write no as the answer to question #1?”

Predictably, Machias blows up, first at himself for somehow doing such a thing, then at Jusis. “What about you, Mr. d(x) = 3x^2 - 2x + 5 = PANCAKES!”

They furiously erase the graphite off their papers. The ghost waits for both of them to flip to the next page and hears them scream when they see Dorothy -inspired words on their papers. With a satisfied smile, he leaves. 

 

[Three… Four…]

He finds himself drifting in and out of buildings again, only to find a familiar face— Fie, if he remembers right—sleeping on a bench. It’s March, but it snowed this morning. It’s still really cold, isn’t it? The ghost can’t really tell, but he can see the girl’s body shiver. 

Well, he can’t quite bring a blanket over here, or else rumors of a ghost will probably start popping up. He would hate for someone to call a priest and have him exorcized before he accomplishes his goal. Hm, what to do…

In the distance, he spots another familiar face. Laura. She’s leaning against a tree. Her sword is drawn but the hand holding it isn’t very firm. It’s like there’s no energy left in her, but she hardly seems out of breath. What could be…

In the next second, Laura’s hands shake around the grip of her weapon. She lifts it up for a moment, only to let the blade dip into the ground again. A loud, frustrated sigh escapes her. She has never appeared so… unmotivated before. 

The ghost looks at her, then looks at Fie. They’re both obviously cold and not moving much. If he can’t bring blankets to them, then he can think of another way for them to warm up.

Biting the inside of his cheek, his hands dip into the snow to make two snowballs. He then marches to a point equidistant to both of the girls before hurling snowballs at both of them. At once, both the snowballs are cut in half. On one side, Fie is on her feet, crouching on the bench with both her gunblades drawn. On the other side, Laura takes a defensive stance, her greatsword effortlessly held up high.

“What is the meaning of this, Fie?”

“That should be my line, Laura. I thought knights didn’t play dirty, even in snowball fights.”

They both then stare blankly at each other, confused. “Wait, if you didn’t throw the snowball, then who..?”

Their eyes scan the area until their both lock onto Patrick, who just happened to see the moment both snowballs hit the two. He steps back when he notices their predatory gazes.

“Wait, I was just standing here!”

That doesn’t stop them from scooping the snow and hurling snowballs back at him. The ghost sends Patrick his condolences. He… did not expect this to be the outcome, but he was glad he got the two up and moving.

Regardless, he continues his wandering. There are still others here that he has to see. 

 

[Five…]

Dusk begins to fall when he phases into a room of a girl with turquoise hair lying still in her bed. Millium, the ghost recalls. Though there is something unfamiliar about the way she acts. She doesn’t move. She doesn’t smile. She’s just lying miserably on her bed, ignoring the loud grumbles of her stomach.

This really won’t do.

Going to the kitchen, he saw the maid— Sharon —leave. On the dining table, he finds plates full of sandwiches.

Taking one plate, he carefully returns to Millium’s room. Apparently, she's too depressed to notice that her door is opening seemingly without any force. Perhaps it's for the best. He vaguely remembers that she's terrified of ghosts. Without any fanfare, he places the plate on her nightstand. 

Leaving the room, he closes his eyes. There are only two other people on the floor. One person is in their room with the door slightly cracked open. 

 

[Six…]

Peering through, the ghost sees the instructor— Sara —haphazardly lying on her bed with beer bottles everywhere. It’s not an unfamiliar sight, though he wonders how much she drank for fun and how much she drank to cope.

Again, he goes to the kitchen to fetch a glass of water and returns to Instructor Sara’s room. Just before he places it on her nightstand, she flinches violently in her sleep, startling him. To his misfortune, this causes him to lose his grip on the glass of water and it ends up spilling all over the woman.

In a flash, she’s standing up, weapons drawn from under her pillow, sharp eyes gazing around her room. The ghost holds his breath, even though it's unnecessary. After a few moments pass, Instructor Sara looks at the glass of water strangely then yawns. 

“Must’ve knocked it towards me somehow.” She stretches and plops back into bed, despite how it’s wet. “Back to sleep~”

The ghost stares slack jawed at the instructor for a minute before leaving. When he closes the door, he starts marching toward the last occupant of this floor, but stops in his tracks when he sees a black cat— Celine —staring at him.

Curious, he waves at her.

Celine hisses at him.

Oh, so she can see him. Pensive, the ghost decides to go back to the kitchen yet again and grabs a carton of milk. He turns around and shows it to the cat, who has followed him.

“You think that will work on me?!” she hisses again and tries to scratch him. Alas, he has no physical form to be scratched. “Seriously? Another ghost? Was this dorm built on top of a cemetery or something?”

He smiles sheepishly at her. 

“Still, I sense no ill intent from you,” Celine grumbles under her breath. “What’s your deal?”

“I…” Strangely, speaking is difficult for him. “Help. Cheer. Them.”

“What? You want to cheer them up? You don’t even know them!”

The ghost smiles sadly at her. Celine casts him a suspicious glance before sighing. “Fine, but if I see any funny business from you, I’m finding a way to exorcize you!”

 

[Seven… Eight…]

They return to the third floor and the ghost wavers in front of one of the rooms. It belongs to Alisa, if he recalls correctly, and he wonders if it’s okay to enter her room. Unlike Millium, who is a serial offender of breaking into people’s rooms, and Sara, show is Sara, the ghost doubts Alisa would be okay with him checking in on her while she’s in her room. 

Granted, she can’t see him, but still.

Before he decides to leave, the door opens. He sees Alisa walk literally right through him, humming a soft tune. She walks down the stairs before Celine speaks up.

“You don’t need to help that one too much. She’s not affected by whatever doom and gloom is dragging the rest of these dumb humans down. Same for Emma, I smacked some sense into her a long time ago. Let’s be real, they’re all probably sad because they’re all gonna go separate ways soon.”

Oh. That’s good. He’s glad they can continue looking toward the future without any issue.

“What…” He stutters out, looking down at the cat. “About… You..?”

Celine scoffs. “There’s no need to worry about me! My only dumb problem is that my stomach is empty no matter how much I eat, but that just means I’m growing! I’m not depressed or anything!”

The ghost frowns at her before crouching down. Hesitantly, he lifts his hand and glides it over Celine’s head. With enough willpower, he can feel her fur.

“Hey! Stop— Stop that!”

He stops, especially when he sees tears shed from her eyes. 

“I’m not crying!” Celine rubs her eyes against her arms. “This is just— You’re just a really weird ghost!”

He flashes her another sad smile.

 

[Nine… Ten…]

They walk down toward the second floor. Here, there are only three presences. Two of them are both in the same room. Since the door is already ajar, he peeks in. Elliot is lying on the bed, covering his eyes with his arm, while Gaius is sitting on a stool in front of a blank canvas.

“Those idiots are trying to do the same thing as you,” Celine says from behind him. “Instead of doing whatever you’re doing, they’re trying to create something happy with their art and spread some joy. Doesn’t look like there’s any progress.”

The ghost is no expert in the arts, but he knows it is more difficult creating things that aren’t from the heart. Forget cheering others up, they shouldn’t pretend that everything will be fixed if they force themselves to feel a certain way.

…Wait. Is it hypocritical of him to think this? For some reason, he feels guilty, but he can’t pinpoint why. 

Looking between Celine, Elliot, and Gaius, the ghost gets an idea. He kneels down in front of Celine and whispers into her ear.

“Repeat.. After… Me.”

When he’s done, Celine looks at him in stupor. “You want me to say all that? I didn’t say I’d help you out! Ugh, that’s so sappy!”

If he could, he would do more, but he has to entrust this to Celine. It is mostly because he’s aware that Gaius is more sensitive to the spiritual side of things and doesn’t know what he’ll do when he finds out that there’s a ghost here. However, he also feels like the way Celine would say these words would be more impactful than anything that can come out of his mouth.

He nods at her. Celine sighs before barging into the room and starts hissing at them.

“You suckers need to stop trying to force yourselves to be happy and instead just let yourselves feel your stupid grief!”

See, her flavor with words just packs more of a punch. 

“I don’t care that you don’t know why you’re sad, but just get it out there on that dumb canvas or on that dumb violin! You can paint the rainbows later, but you’re allowed to express the storm now, you know! Just get it out! And let me see it! Let me hear it! D- Don’t—”

The ghost closes his eyes.

“Don’t forget that I’m here for you too!”

In the instant she finishes that sentence, she runs out of the room and kicks the door closed. Glaring at him, she hisses, “I’m so embarrassed I could die—”

The door opens behind her and suddenly she’s wrapped securely in Gaius’ grip.

“I knew you cared,” he chuckles lightly.

“Shut up! That wasn’t me—”

She’s transferred over to Elliot’s arms. “Well, since you so kindly asked, I’ll give you front row seats to my practice. It won’t be refined, but… it will be from the heart.”

There’s a look in Celine’s eyes that screams Help me!

The ghost sheepishly waves goodbye at her while she’s dragged back into the room. He will join them later, but after checking out two more rooms. The first room he goes to, the door is shut and locked. He has no problem phasing through it though because, well, it’s empty.

He doesn't know how he knows, but he has a feeling that this used to be his room. There are no clues to his identity here. He wonders if it's the same for wherever his home is.

 

[Eleven]

Sighing, he leaves and approaches the opposite room. The door is closed, but he doesn't feel uncomfortable with just barking in. There, Crow lies on his side, snoozing away the evening.

At first, the ghost is disappointed. He wanted to see him awake, see how he's doing. However, seeing the peaceful look on his face changes the ghost’s mind. He is okay as long as Crow is okay.

“...get… the fuck away…”

Crow's face scrunches up. His muscles tense. The breathing is becoming shallow.

The ghost hovers over him in concern, wondering if he should grab a glass of water and splash it over him.

“...No..!”

Or maybe he should grab Celine—

“R̵̘͔̟̫̯̳̰̆͒̓̈́̒̒͂e̸̛̙̳̼̓̔̐̈͒̒̿̒͝a̴̱̻̙̫̻̲͔̮̒̐̂͆̂n̶̫͕̝͈͍̈̏̚!” Crow shouts, arm reaching up to the air as his upper body rises into a sitting position. Immediately covering his face with shaking hands, his breaths morph into uncontrollable gasps. “Fuck…Not again…”

The ghost stares at him in shock.

Ȓ̴̨̝̼e̶̛̥̭̔ḁ̶̠̾n̷̝̗̏ .

It sounds like otherworldly gibberish, but… he knows.

That's his name.

A strange warmth floods Ȓ̴̨̝̼e̶̛̥̭̔ḁ̶̠̾n̷̝̗̏ , but he can't ignore how Crow is failing to calm down. Reaching out, he wraps his arms around the other and pats his head.

“It's… okay…”

He doubts that Crow can feel or hear anything from him, but he's alarmed when the gasps turn into sniffles.

“What the hell is wrong with me?” Crow mutters to himself as he rubs his eyes. “Why…”

Ȓ̴̨̝̼e̶̛̥̭̔ḁ̶̠̾n̷̝̗̏ has no way of soothing him with words, so he settles for a distraction. Hovering up towards the wall, he peels off the poster of a not-so modestly dressed woman and lets it fall onto Crow’s lap.

“Oi, now I know that even Aidios is messing with me.”

Okay, maybe he should not do things that will make Crow think he’s going insane. Just… He’ll just do one more thing.

Returning to Crow’s side, Ȓ̴̨̝̼e̶̛̥̭̔ḁ̶̠̾n̷̝̗̏ leaves a kiss where the headband sits on his forehead. There are many things he doesn’t know about himself. Strangely enough, he knows more about these strangers than he knows about himself. However, he realizes that there’s one more thing about himself that he does know.

“I love you.”

Ȓ̴̨̝̼e̶̛̥̭̔ḁ̶̠̾n̷̝̗̏ turns away and heads toward the door. 

He leaves the room with a bittersweet taste in his mouth. He’s glad that he can see them all one more time, but he wishes they could see him too. 

Hearing the soft cry of a violin, the ghost returns to the room with the source of the sound. When he enters, he hears the addition of quiet sobs and forced breaths. Really, despite how they’re both focused on their tasks, they can barely keep themselves composed. While Elliot is standing and his grip on his instrument is firm, his knees wobble. While Gaius’ paintbrush is steady, carefully painting a dark setting of some sort of castle, there’s a tear running down his cheek. Meanwhile, Celine’s face is buried in the bed, but she can’t hide the twitching of her ears. 

Elliot’s song is sorrowful. Gaius’ painting is depressing, yet mesmerizing. This is how they really feel, this is how most of the others must feel. It’s strange how a forgotten ghost seems to have had a lasting impact on them, but he can’t deny their feelings. 

They're sad. Because he died. He remembers now.

He remembers being at peace when he died. He still can’t be convinced that his action wasn’t the right thing to do.

Here, however, he weeps with them.

 

[Finale]

“CLASS MEETING!”

That night, Ȓ̴̨̝̼e̶̛̥̭̔ḁ̶̠̾n̷̝̗̏ watches the entirety of Class VII gather in the dining room, called upon by Millium. The girl paces around the table as she waits for the last member to join the room.

“Millium, what's the meaning of this?” Jusis pinches his nose as if he has a headache. “You can't call a class meeting everytime we run out of baking soda.”

“No, it's not that—though I did use the last egg, but Sharon said she would restock it later—ANYWAY! I think there's a ghost in the dorm again!”

“Again?” Machias snacks his own forehead. “You gotta be kidding me!”

“You sure?” Instructor Sara side glances at all of them. “How come I never get to see it?”

“Is it the same ghost?” Fie asks. “Or do you think I can slash at it this time?”

“Does anyone even remember how we got rid of the last ghost?” Elliot adds in nervously. “Like, after those few incidents in the summer, it just stopped showing up.”

“I believe we won't have to worry much about this ghost,” Gaius says. “I have been sensing a strange, benevolent wind recently. I think it means no harm.” 

Ȓ̴̨̝̼e̶̛̥̭̔ḁ̶̠̾n̷̝̗̏ can feel Celine’s sharp gaze pierce through him. He just shrugs.

“That's right, and the ghost is literally right there.” Celine points at him with her tail, directing everyone's gazes toward empty air. “Though I'm the only one who can see him.”

“Um, Celine…” Emma grabs the cat and holds her in her arms before taking a step away. “Why didn't you tell us about this earlier..?”

“He’s harmless. Plus, he just wants to cheer you all up, so why should I stop him? It seems to have worked anyway. You're all less moody now.”

“Wait a minute,” Machias gasps before indignantly pointing in Ȓ̴̨̝̼e̶̛̥̭̔ḁ̶̠̾n̷̝̗̏’s direction. “Are you the one who messed around with our homework?!”

“He's smiling,” Celine answers for him.

“Why— if I ever get my hands on you—”

“So, that snowball attack wasn't Patrick's fault,” Laura adds. “I'll have to apologize to him later.”

“And that really tasty sandwich really was your doing, wasn’t it?!” Millium accused the ghost.

Jusis sighs. “Why are you getting mad at a ghost for making you a sandwich?”

“Oh. Uh. I dunno. Because he's a ghost?”

“Shortstack, that's discrimination,” Crow snorted. “So anyway, you're the one who peeled my poster off my wall? Man, what the hell? It's like you're saying there's something wrong with having posters of almost nude ladies hanging up.”

“Wait, what—” Alisa interjects.

“Anywayyyyy, what's your deal? Are you only here to cheer us up? What's in it for you?”

It’s simple, really. He just wants to see them all again. He just wants to be by their side, one more time. However, explaining this to people who don’t know him anymore would make him seem creepy, so he just lifts his index finger against his lips.

“It’s a secret, apparently,” Celine translates for him. 

“So, is he just going to stick around until we leave?” Alisa asks.

The ghost shakes his head. Whatever miracle that’s allowing him to linger here can’t last long. Now that his wish has been granted, he feels himself fading—

BROOOOOOONG

Everyone just acknowledges the sound casually. The ghost, however, clutches its chest at the sudden surge of energy pulsing through him.

“Isn’t that the old schoolhouse bell?” Millium speaks their minds out loud. “Huh. Wonder why it’s ringing.”

Ȓ̴̨̝̼e̶̛̥̭̔ḁ̶̠̾n̷̝̗̏ narrows his eyes in deep thought. The mention of the old schoolhouse brings up another memory. That place was a site for a Divine Knight Trial, and it would only react to… him. Why would it act up like this when he’s dead?

Curious, he stands up and starts to run toward the Old Schoolhouse. 

“Wait!” Celine shouts after him. “Where are you going now?!”

He’s distantly aware that everyone else is chasing after him, to his surprise. However, since he has the power to phase through buildings and land, he reaches his destination much faster than they can. The building is as daunting as he expected, though the surrounding glow of light is not so familiar. While physical things have no effect on him, he’s curious about magic…

Anti-climatically, going through the barrier doesn’t affect him whatsoever. Shrugging, he arrives at the Old Schoolhouse’s double doors. They’re wide open, as if beckoning for him to enter. He wonders what it could want from him. He has nothing to give.

Nothing to lose, either. 

The moment he steps inside the building, he feels an electrical shock spark through his body. The strange sensation almost makes him not realize that the inside of the building looks nothing like the inside of a building. The walls are gone, replaced by a vast, endless sky. There are stones and islands floating in the air. 

Even then, he’s not too fazed. If he can be a ghost, then this is probably not outside the realm of possibility. 

“What the heck is going on?!”

He turns around, watching the rest of Class VII filter into this bizarre dimension. Most of them are bug eyed as they point to the objects in the sky.

“Who the heck are you?!”

Ȓ̴̨̝̼e̶̛̥̭̔ḁ̶̠̾n̷̝̗̏ tilts his head at the question, looking around for an unfamiliar face. One two three… He can count only ten people and one cat here, and they’re all members of Class VII, so who… He looks at them again and realizes they’re all staring at him. 

He looks behind him and finds no one there.

“Wait, you can see him now?” Celine asks.

Ȓ̴̨̝̼e̶̛̥̭̔ḁ̶̠̾n̷̝̗̏ points to himself in confusion while everyone else nods suspiciously at him.

“For a ghost, he doesn’t look that scary,” Crow breaks the silence with a shrug. “Heck, he’s cute compared to the previous ghost.”

“He looks kind of familiar,” Alisa mutters.

“Forget that!” Machias exclaims. “Is no one bothered by how it looks like we’ve been transported to another world?!”

“If you can’t handle it, Regnitz, you can quite literally just walk back out the door.”

While the two rivals bicker, Emma steps forward toward the ghost. “Are you responsible for turning the Old Schoolhouse into this?”

He shakes his head. “I’m…” Despite how he feels a little stronger, his voice is difficult to get out. In fact, it makes him grow so… very… tired. “Also. Surprised.”

“Still, you seem to have a connection to this place. I doubt it’s a coincidence that we’re able to see you just when the Old Schoolhouse is acting up.” Emma then looks down, voice growing quiet. Sounding disappointed. Guilty. “And it makes no sense why it’s acting up in the first place, since no one here is the Awakener…”

“Speaking of Awakeners, do you know what’s going on, Crow?” Laura asks. “Did something like this show up during your trial?”

“Nah. After I got Ordine, nothing else happened at that place.”

Millium perks up. “So it's a mystery!”

“Does that mean it's schoolhouse investigation time?” Fie stretches her arms up high. “It's been a while.”

• The whole class decides to officially solve the mystery of the Old Schoolhouse.
• Ȓ̴̨̝̼e̶̛̥̭̔ḁ̶̠̾n̷̝̗̏ asks them if he can join them. While some are suspicious, Emma surmises that the ghost might be key to the mystery lurking here, so they let him tag along. Not like they can even stop him.
• Just as they begin the investigation, they all look at each other in confusion. It's like they're waiting for something. They ask each other who wants to lead.
• Choosing a leader for this feels extremely odd for some reason to them. The ghost decides to suggest Crow take the lead.
• Again, Crow looks at him in suspicion. “Uh, why? I'm more of a slacker than a leader.”
• “Because you’re cute.” (This was something Crow once said to him back at Legram)
• Fie snickers. “Looks like the ghost has the hots for you.”
• The ghost can't fight. Even if he wasn't intangible, he doesn't have a weapon. So, he just waits in the sidelines, guiding them along.
• Everyone reminisces about their adventures together, sharing their favorite memories. The ghost listens, noting some holes in their stories. Some of them get headaches just thinking about the past.
• He notices how Instructor Sara’s gaze lands on him more than most. When he asks her what she’s thinking, she just sighs. “You’re just a kid…”
• While Emma is on the sidelines, she admits she's been feeling worthless. Her sole purpose for coming to Trista was to guide the Awakener, and she wasn't able to even find one. And now, somehow being granted access to this trial, she can't even help guide the group.
• The ghost reassures her and attempts to par her head. “You… did more… than enough…”
• For a second, she’s overwhelmed by a feeling of sorrow. She wonders if it's because she just needed to hear those words or if it's because of something else.
• Wiping away a tear, she shows him a wobbly smile, “You know us a bit too well. Have you been with us since the beginning?”
• The ghost doesn't reply.
• When Class VII beats the final boss with a final hurrah, the ghost begins to fade.
• They question if he has any words for the people he loves… so they can pass it on to them.
• “There is… no need. Thank… you. For everything.”
• He disappears.
• With that, they all start to break down, knowing this was their last adventure together… and burdened by a weight long forgotten.

Notes:

Look, I already killed Rean physically. I already killed him mentally. To say goodbye to him spiritually? Yeah, even I have my limits, so I let ghost!Rean’s adventure end in bullet points. That's enough for me. Totally hope I don't end up accidentally killing him again or something.

I thought I finally could get away with not writing Rean's name in a chapter, but then Crow surprised me. Seriously, this wasn't the plan. He was supposed to be a fool, like mostly everyone else… but he decided to take the steering wheel and make himself more relevant than he already is. Oh well…

I also never expected that I would give Alisa a bigger role, but my fingers typed and voila. I blame Magical Girl Alisa. I actually really like her and Demon Prince Rean together. They're cute (not like I'm going to make her fall in love with him again. That's just cruel lol).

Also, there's too many different Reans here, so I'm just gonna clarify some things right now. First, ghost!Rean is the one that appears in chapter 66. That's the last time he ever appears, so say goodbye to him. In chapter 65 with Alisa’s POV, that's “Ishmelga.” In chapter 65 with Valimar and Altina’s POV, that's the “Ashen Saint.” Hopefully, you can figure out why there are two personalities with different memories. If not, then you'll probably find out in CSIII Part 2… cuz yeah I decided it'll need two parts now… yey…

Btw, the ghost!Rean segment was inspired by a game called Goodbye, Doggy. It's basically about a dog helping his family move on from his death. If that dog can do all that through sheer willpower and undying loyalty, then Rean can do it here too lmao.

I actually did write an outline for North Ambria, but the focus started really drifting away from the main protags of this fic, and it started feeling like an anime filler movie lol. You can assume that the events go about the same (according to the game not the anime lol), it's just that Crow is doing the Chevaliering here (and can't go berserk). Lavi and her posse can still go to Erebonia and investigate the Azure Chevalier (and actually be competent at it this time even though it’s probably more difficult to dig up Crow’s identity compared to Rean in canon). However, instead of meeting Crow and not realizing that he's the person they're looking for until he calls Ordine, Lavi stumbles into the Ashen Saint in the underground tunnels. For two people who barely speak, they have a nice chat lol.

Anyway, that's the end of this super long note. Take care~

Chapter 32: CSIII - Part One

Notes:

Still alive ack. I was peacefully going about my life but recently I kept getting dreams about this cast despite being preoccupied with other things. I still haven’t even touched the first Daybreak game yet lol. Still, those dreams were interesting and it lit a fire under my butt and I decided it was finally time to tackle this again. Here you go~

“Hold fast to dreams,

For if dreams die

Life is a broken-winged bird,

That cannot fly.” 

-  Langston Hughes 

 

---

 

Chapter 67 - The Ashen Chevalier 

For someone who spectacularly failed his life goal to kill the chancellor in exchange for the power of friendship, Crow found himself drifting. This, paired with unclear nightmares that have been relentlessly hounding him every night and the missions he is oh-so eager to complete for Chancellor Bastard, Crow had to find a way to cope in a way that wouldn’t severely traumatize his friends.

Sheesh, when did he become so selfless?

Anyway, after being forced to basically fight in three wars, he became terribly accustomed to just doing what other people told him to do. Just to not give in to the temptation to punch the messenger’s face, he would oftentimes zone out during a spiel about his next mission, nod along while barely paying any attention, and do the bare minimum to accomplish the mission. It was basically how he treated being at school, except this was the only way to keep any semblance of peace he was allowed to have.

Of course, Crow wasn’t a fool. If there was something he had objections to, of course he would raise hell to get out of the mess. Exhibit A: His conversation with the empire’s one and only debaucherous prince.

“Hold up. Have you seen my resume? You want me—a former terrorist, gambling addict, alcoholic, and chronic slacker—to teach at your new school?”

“Precisely!” Olivert beamed at him, as if there was nothing wrong with his logic. “I think you make a rather admirable role model for the students there.”

“You’re as deranged as Osborne if you think putting this kinda responsibility on me is a good idea,” Crow scratched the back of his head as he held up a piece of paper in his hands. On it were the list of students enrolled in Thors Branch Campus. “And you want me to oversee this line up in Class VII? Do you have a vendetta against me or something?”

Olivert innocently batted his eyelashes, pretending like everything was fine. “My, what’s wrong with it?”

“Oh, I don’t know. How about this Mildine chick? Did you conveniently forget that I killed her fucking uncle?”

“Hm… That may have slipped my memory. Though, to be fair, she specifically insisted on joining Class VII once she heard you might be its instructor.”

“She looks like the type to stab someone with a smile on their face. If she ends up murdering me out of revenge, I blame you,” Crow groaned as he pointed to the next name of biggest concern. “And what about this Kurt guy? You know he hates my guts after he learned that I basically helped set the civil war up which ended up traumatizing your little brother, right?”

“I personally asked Kurt, and he didn’t seem to mind the possibility of having you as an instructor.”

“He’s probably gonna collude with Mildine to assassinate me. I can feel it in my bones.” He then pointed to the next name. “I don’t even need to explain this Juna girl. She’s from Crossbell. You know they all hate my guts.”

“Perhaps you might be right~”

“And lastly! This Ash kid! He looks like a punk! He’s probably gonna plan my assassination attempt with the rest of them just for fun. I already know I ain’t gonna vibe well with him!” Crow let his hand tap against the table roughly. Aidios, was this his punishment for not shooting Osborne in the head? “You gotta be delusional to think this is a good idea.”

The damn prince just continued to grin at him. 

“So, is that a yes or a no?”

“It’s a no!”

Unfortunately, no one in this damn empire knows what no means. While Crow was able to dodge a full time position as an instructor, they somehow roped him into a part-time position at the school. He wouldn’t be an instructor for any class or anything. At best, he would give pointers to the kids’ soldat training. At worst, he would be a chaperone.

A low stress and low effort job. Crow couldn’t ask for any better.

And that was how he found himself boarding a train to Leeves, packing Ordine with the cargo and wearing the shadiest getup so no one would recognize him as the Azure Chevalier. Leaning back against the window and kicking his feet up against the armrest, Crow resigned to taking a nap.

“Hey, do you remember the Ashen Chevalier?” 

Unfortunately, the whispers from the other passengers kept his mind whirling. 

“Ashen? Don’t you mean Azure?”

“No, I’m talking about another person. I heard this one had a white Divine Knight.”

“Are you sure you aren’t making things up? If the empire had another one of those, then it’d make all the headlines. We probably would’ve taken over Calvard already if we had two of those monstrosities.” 

“No, I swear I’m not making things up! I remember hearing rumors about the Ashen Chevalier all the time during the Civil War!”

“Rumors, huh? What a reliable source to get your information from.”

“Ugh! Forget I said anything if you’re not going to believe me!”

Before he had realized it, his eyes were open, just staring into space as he pondered over this information. Ha, if there was another Awakener in town, his life would be so easy. Or not. The only reason he wasn’t rotting in prison was because he still had a use. Plus, weren’t Awakeners destined to clash? He’d probably be fighting for his life every second around another hypothetical Awakener. 

What was his mind even doing, wasting his precious time and energy over a what if? He should be taking a nap—

CLINK

The lazy part of him told him to just ignore the sound and try to get some shut eye. Another part of him decided to shoot adrenaline down his veins, causing his body to twist to his side, letting his eyes watch a fifty mira coin roll away from where it fell. Really, he could ignore it. It was just some change that wouldn’t afford anything by itself. Plus, as much as he gripes about working under Osborne, at least they pay him well. 

With that thought, he closed his eyes once again. 

…Only to sense that someone was approaching him via the aisle a minute later. Barely opening his eyelids, he saw a brown-cloaked figure standing beside where his feet were resting. In an instant, the stranger tossed a small object towards him. 

Reflexively, he caught the object with ease, opening his hand to find the fifty mira coin he had just dropped. He eyed the stranger in confusion.

His first impression of the stranger was that they were a traveler. The cloak on their shoulders was dusty and damaged by the forces of nature. Upon further scrutiny, however, there were strands of white hair hidden under that hood, and hidden under the hair was a peculiar mask he’d never seen before. Yet, there was a spark of familiarity. The fifty mira coin, the random act of kindness, white hair, and a mask… Oh.

Woah, was the Ashen Saint going through an edgy phase? Not only that, the jawline was more defined, clearly more masculine and it looked like he got taller. Was this guy a kid or something while he was traveling the country doing samaritan work? How long ago was it since he last saw him anyway? Two years ago?

Despite all the questions floating in his head, his eyes narrowed in suspicion. What was such a goody-two-shoes with a beloved reputation doing, hiding his identity?

Tossing the coin back to the other, Crow scoffed, “Don’t need it. That’s technically yours anyway.”

Unsurprisingly, the Ashen Saint just flicked the coin into the air. It spun and spun until it fell precisely into his bag, which had a tiny opening from him not zipping it up all the way.

He snorted. “Show off—” Only to stop himself when the Ashen Saint was nowhere to be seen. Well, that was definitely shady as hell. But Crow didn’t get paid enough to investigate. Heck, even if the guy was going around joining plots to take down the chancellor, he couldn’t care less.

Resigning himself to keeping the dumb change once again, Crow shut his eyes and went to sleep.

 

---

 

Chapter 68 - Hatred, Weakness, and Kindness

Potters. Instructor Potters. That was the name of Class VII’s brand new instructor. Crow was not impressed.

After gathering some information on his colleagues (by basically asking Millium for the Intelligence Division files and telling Lechter to fuck off), Crow decided that he very much did not like this Potters guy. He was worse than Aurelia, who was batshit insane. He was worse than Michael, who had a stick up his ass. He was worse than Schmidt. Schmidt!

Why was he worse? Well…

“Don’t touch me, you filthy commoner!”

As much as he didn’t care about Erebonia’s weird fixation with social status, this guy acted all high and mighty for a sore loser of the Civil War. Granted, Aurelia didn't change at all after the war, but she took her loss in stride and respectfully followed this country’s new (terrible) direction. Meanwhile, this guy? All he did was complain.

“You expect me to talk about this material for several hours? Are you trying to kill my wonderful voice?”

His voice sounded like nails scratching against a chalkboard.

“Tsk. If these kids are already the empire’s bottom of the barrel, then they might as well learn discipline through self-study. They’re not worth my time and effort.”

How the hell did this guy get hired? He made Sara look like a saint compared to him. At least she had good intentions, despite how irresponsible she had been. 

With annoyed, twitching eyes, he wordlessly pleaded with Towa to give him permission to smack this idiot up the head. Unfortunately, Towa condemned this type of violence, and just gave him that ‘things will get better’ smile.

Things did not get better. It was far from that. 

According to his deal with Olivert, he was supposed to just watch Class VII from the sidelines and make sure no one gets killed. Well, when it was time for their first assignment to explore the first floor of Einhel Keep, Potters threw a fucking fit.

“What do you mean I have to go through this crusty dungeon with these plebeians?! And are those monsters?! Like, real monsters?! You expect me to fight them? I wouldn’t touch those with even a ten selge pole!” 

Potters then proceeded to walk out of Einhel Keep, leaving the students in the dust. 

Thors Branch Campus’ reputation will certainly be getting five stars after this. He gotta admit though, it was nice seeing Schmidt getting pissed off from that comment about the keep. Unfortunately his fun couldn’t last long because it was eventually decided unanimously by everyone except him that he would help guide the kids through the first floor.

“Can’t I just pull a Sara and just let them figure out how to do it themselves?”

Schmidt crossed his arms. “No. I calibrated the difficulty of this level to the students’ and the instructors’ combined strength. I believe the lack of one member will make this challenge impossible.”

“I don’t believe that for a second, considering Potters’ strength is probably less than one percent of their combined strength. Plus, you’ve been hounding me to get data for months now, I bet you’ve been planning this all along.”

“Wow, you’ve caught me red handed, Armbrust. Not that it changes anything. While that Old Schoolhouse phenomenon was kind to you, I won’t be. Get in there before someone gets killed.”

And that was the story of how Crow Armbrust got dumped into the trenches with his biggest haters.

“The Azure Chevalier… So that’s what you look like up close,” Juna muttered distastefully. “You look shady.”

Hey now, that was just rude. 

“Right?” Mildine, who went by Musse, giggled even though her voice was laced with disappointment. “I expected my uncle’s murderer to look a lot more dashing…”

Wow, she didn't even hesitate to let the cat out the bag.

“HE’S YOUR UNCLE’S WHAT NOW?!”

“He’s also the leader of the terrorist group who started the Civil War,” Kurt helpfully added in his two mira with a glare. 

“WHAT?!” Juna did another double take before the implications fully dawned on her. “Wait, are you the one responsible for almost blowing up Orchis Tower during the West Zemuria Trade Conference?”

Oh yeah, that did happen.

“WHAT THE HECK IS WRONG WITH YOU?!”

“Wow, the national hero has more baggage than I thought,” Ash smirked, crossing his arms behind his head. “I guess it’s par the course for the empire. Twisted country. Twisted hero.”

Man, compared to this, reconciling with Old Class VII while they all hated his guts during the Civil War seemed like a piece of cake. 

“Alright, that’s enough bashing of Ol’ Crow. I know I’ve made my mistakes.” Many, many mistakes. “But I’ll see to it that you all survive this ordeal.”

“Ordeal?”

He didn’t bother to explain, what with the floor disappearing under them and all. Without batting an eye, Crow watched everyone fall. Musse didn't seem surprised at all and allowed gravity to carry her down with grace. Ash hissed out a curse but maneuvers through the air well. Kurt grabbed Juna, who was screaming, and he…

Got a face full of two melons. Some men would be jealous.

A loud smack echoes through the air as Juna screeches again.

Ah, youth. Aw man, he was starting to sound like Sara.

Anyway, after explaining the basics of combat, Crow lets them lead the way on their little dungeon crawl. Even if he wanted to, there was no way they were going to take his orders and he was completely A-OK with that.

But then, they came across the first monster.

It was an upgraded version of a soldat from the civil war. Yeah, this ain't gonna be a fight where he can sit on the sidelines, huh.

“What the fuck, Schmidt?! The boss is supposed to be at the end of the dungeon, not be the very first grunt!”

Crow's patience was wearing very thin with this shit. He used to be able to take things in stride, but with literally everything being out of his control, he couldn't hide his complaints anymore.

“Oh, please. Armbrust, this will be a walk in the park for you.”

“Did you conveniently forget that the students are the ones being tested here?”

“Of course. They are free to join. However, with your lazy track record, I had to put measures in place so you don't slack off either.”

This world sucks. He just wants to let that be known.

Anyway, the next level of the dungeon is just filled with monsters that any beginner could beat up. On their own, Class VII’s new hatchlings are fine. Together? By Aidios’ tits, their teamwork sucks. 

Ash is pretty much doing his own thing, either taunting his teammates or stealing the final blow from Juna and Kurt, effectively pissing them off. Juna is practically either yelling at Ash for being an asshole, yelling at Musse for doing nothing but drink tea in the back, or yelling at Kurt because they’re so uncoordinated that they keep tripping over each other. 

Watching all this chaos unfold, Crow can’t help but be reminded of one of Old Class VII’s adventures: When Sara stuck Jusis, Machias, Fie, and Laura in the same group two field studies in a row while they all hated each other’s guts. 

Yeah… He ain’t gonna bother trying to fix this dysfunctional group right now, especially when he has the added bonus of being everyone’s most hated instructor. Maybe he’ll ask Sara for some notes about nuclear group bonding first before tackling whatever he’s looking at right now.

It takes way longer than expected, but they finally make it to the final level. At the center of the room is an enemy fitting for a final boss. A bit too fitting, especially when the sight of it shakes Crow to his core. 

Over the intercom, Schmidt speaks: “This one is…”

“Modeled after the Vermilion Knight, I know.”

“Then what are you waiting for? Finish it off already.”

He would. He really would because the sight of that thing makes his blood boil with rage. Every muscle in his body is telling him to immobilize and crush that thing before it can—

Before its tail—

His heart feels lodged in his throat. It's… getting a bit difficult to breathe. Is this another of Schmidt's tricks?

Seeing how unaffected everyone else is tells him otherwise.

He's the only one who's… stuck.

This isn't new to him.

This always happens when he wakes up from a nightmare he can't remember. Damn, why is his body acting up now? Why does the sight of that thing strike fear into him?

He’s defeated it before with no casualty. He can do it again, easy-peasy, especially since it's not the real thing.

It's just… another. Walk in the park. Even as black dots start growing in his vision for no reason.

“Crow!”

That's Towa. Why does she sound so worried for no reason?

Wait. Why is the world starting to spin?

Why—

Vaguely, he feels his upper body hit the floor before he feels nothing at all.

 

…

…

 

…

 

Ugh, his head is killing him.

“Look, he's waking up.”

“Good, then it's likely just vasovagal syncope.”

“Just?! You make it sound like no big deal!”

“If this is the first time this ever happened to him, then it probably is no big deal. Maybe he was just dehydrated or something.”

“Or maybe you put him through too much stress!”

“If you're that worried, make him see a medical doctor.”

Crow opens his eyes to see Towa and Schmidt arguing. Even though Schmidt’s awful personality compels any normal person to clash with him, Towa seemed to have the most patience with him out of everyone he knew. This definitely was not on his bingo list this year.

“Yo.” He tries to show his best lazy smirk. “What did I miss?”

“See, he's fine.”

Towa shoves a glass of water into his hands and orders him to drink it. It's only then that he notices he's laying on the bed in the infirmary. By the time he gulps down the last drop, Schmidt is already out of the door. 

Which means he's left with Towa, who's giving him a menacing pout. That's usually the face she has when she's trying to get him and ‘Gelica to ‘fess up to their crimes.

Just when he makes up his mind to shrug his problems away, Towa asks, “Are you still having those nightmares?”

“Yeah,” he mutters, holding his head with a sigh. “I don’t see how that’s relevant here though.”

Towa’s gaze softens. She gently grabs his hand. “Before you fainted, you looked like… Sometimes you look like that when you wake up from a dream about your battle at the Infernal Castle.” 

“Yeah, but it’s whatever though. It’s not like I should be traumatized by. I didn't lose anything big that day.”

Except his freedom.

Except his hope.

Except his…

Her grip tightens. 

“It’s not whatever if it’s causing you to faint in the middle of a battle.”

Crow turns away. He can’t stand the kindness in her eyes. It really shouldn’t be wasted on him. Despite turning a new leaf during the Civil War, he still doesn’t feel like he truly redeemed himself for almost blowing up Towa at Crossbell however many years ago. Being a government puppet now definitely isn’t steering him toward a path he can be proud of. 

“I really don’t know what to tell you. This is the first time this happened while I was up on my feet. I don’t know what’s going on. I just… I feel crippled for no reason.”

“Oh, Crow…” 

He’s pulled into a small hug. Part of him feels like he doesn’t want this pity. The other, better part of him reminds him to not push away a friend. 

Not ever again. 

The door slides open. Crow doesn’t bother to look. If it’s anyone other than George, ‘Gelica or anyone from Old Class VII, his mood is only going to sour. Maybe he should be allowed one moment of comfort once in a while.

However, the person who steps into the room brings a peculiar scent with them. It reminds him of the fresh ocean breeze in Jurai—

“Crow!”

Towa slinks away from him, only for him to be slammed by a reckless hug. His face is smacked by a brown bag that smells distinctly of… fish burgers?

The stranger releases him from the hug quickly and Crow has to stare at his face for a few long moments to understand who he was looking at. Vaguely, a child-like voice echoes at the back of his mind, followed by an image of a kid that used to follow him everywhere. The image of that child overlaps with the guy in front of him and…

“Stark?!”

A bright smile overtakes the boy’s face. “You remember me!”

“What are you doing in a trash heap school like this?”

• Scene ends with some Crow and Stark and Towa fluff. 

 

[Scene 3 - Slightly Broken Ice]

When he meets up with New Class VII again, they all look at him strangely. Like, even stranger than before. Even Musse isn't bothering to hide her thinking cap around him.

Part of him isn't even surprised. To witness the nation's hero faint from shock at one of the giant robots he supposedly defeated before, they probably thought he’s a fraud or something. He wouldn't blame them.

Though, he doesn't expect anything new to happen because of this development.

“Perhaps I was too quick to pass judgement on you.”

It's Kurt who corners him on his walk to the dormitories.

Crow shrugs, “Hey, you're not wrong to. I'm not going to lie and say that I didn't help trigger the Civil War.”

“Still, you deserve some goodwill for saving Prince Cedric from the clutches of the Vermilion Knight and when I was powerless to do anything.” Kurt turns his face but still looks at him from the corner of his eye. “Especially since you clearly did not come out of that battle unscathed.”

“Ha, what are you talking about? Ol’ Crow didn't get a single scratch from that fight!”

He's met with a look of appraisal. Kurt’s just a kid, but his eyes are so sharp. Like he can see right through him. These types are always a pain in the ass to deal with, and it's just his luck that New Class VII has two other cases like this.

Crow will never admit out loud that being around them puts him a bit on edge.

He lets out a groan. “So? If you're right, that just means I'm damaged goods. What's it to you?”

Kurt's eyes narrow and his mouth curls into a firm frown. “I wouldn't use words as crude as those, but I digress. I just want to say it puts a new perspective on your character and it wouldn't help me to just write you off as someone to ignore. You are still a strong warrior, one I could learn a lot from. So…”

He pulls out his twin swords.

“Will you allow me to spar with you?”

Crow stares at the boy bowing his head. There’s something… oddly familiar about this. He doesn’t know what part of any of this is familiar, but there’s something here making his head itch. Perhaps this is the reason why he doesn’t even hesitate.

“Sure, but loosen up a little first! How about I show you a trick?”

Kurt tilts his head in confusion.

“Got a 50 mira coin on ya?”

 

[Extra: Randy and Crow “Accidentally” Get Drunk]

It all starts with Crow getting a drink and having a certain red-head take a seat next to him. 

“You don't really seem like the type to work for the chancellor. Though I never would’ve thought someone with Lechter’s personality would be an Ironblood either.”

“Yeah, can you imagine I spent six years of my life planning a perfect assassination attempt on him? And now I'm working for him.”

Randy spits out the drink in surprise.

“Why?”

“I guess the power of friendship saved my ass or whatever. To be honest, it’s still hard for me to believe I destroyed my sniper for them.”

“Oh? You’re a sniper kind of guy? I guess it suits you and your shifty-looking eyes.” 

“Heh, have you looked in the mirror? Lemme guess, you’re probably something like your cousin, waving a giant chainsaw around like it’s nothing.” 

“Nahhh, I’m way more refined than that. I got a giant automatic rifle instead with a cool blade on it.” 

“Automatic is for losersssss. Just means you're compensating for your lack of aim.” 

“Oh yeahhhh? I’ve been shooting since you were a baby. I bet you I’m wayyyyy more skilled than you.”

“Bring it on!”

Crow and Randy end up having a duel. They’re deadlocked until Aurelia strolls along and challenges them both to a duel.

Towa sees the aftermath and just facepalms.

 

---

 

Chapter 69 - Caged Bird

 

[Scene 1 - Intro]

Somehow, despite Crow’s terrible performance as Class VII’s not-instructor and Potters not hiding the fact that he’s here for the money only, no one in New Class VII decides to leave and transfer to any better class. Really, he’s sure they’re all plotting some kind of revenge plan on him. 

Somehow, he survives two weeks with all his organs intact. Part of the reason is because he’s been avoiding them like the plague. Another part of the reason is that it’s possible the students might be too busy trying to get Potters to do his job so they don’t get kicked out of the school. Whatever, Crow is going to ignore that mess and live as a chill substitute instructor who does nothing because none of the other instructors need his help. 

It’s great. He can just lounge peacefully on the roof and—

A shadow blocks the sun from warming his face. As Potters would say: How rude.

Opening his eyes is a mistake because he sees a blob of red hair and it doesn’t belong to Randy.

He heaves the most insufferable groan known to man. “What do you want from me now, Scarecrow?”

The man has the guts to flash him a bright smile and hold up a letter. It has Erebonia’s imperial seal on the back of it. Fuck. So much for peace.

The following conversation with the Captain of the Intelligence Division leaves Crow wondering why this couldn’t just be mailed to him. All the flare and dramatics were for nothing except to scare the students, and now rumors of his terrible reputation begin to circulate the school again. Just great. 

Anyway, Crow is assigned to a mission in Saint Arkh and New Class VII coincidentally has a field study scheduled there at the same time. 

And, to no one’s surprise, this is when Potters throws another hissy fit and says “Who do you take me for? A lowly babysitter? No, no, no. I refuse to take these gremlins out for a mere field trip. I will fine dine with the Hyarms instead. I’ll see you at the end of the field study, thank you very much.”

And so Crow becomes the chaperone for New Class VII again.

He is no stranger to destructive thoughts. He can think of many, many ways of how he can get out of his little predicament.

So. Crow ditches the students on their first field study. He has learned from the best. Thank you Sara, for being such an inspiration. 

 

[Scene 2 - Eyes Closed to the World]

Crow goes to hang out (mess) with Patrick.

“They’ll be fine. The best team bonding is surviving death together. First off, I’m not even their instructor. It’ll be like how Sara handled Old Class VII. They probably came out better with her laissez faire style. These New Class VII kids will definitely be better off without my guidance.”

Patrick narrows his eyes at him, still simmering in disapproval. “There are two reasons why Sara was able to get away with her teaching approach. First, she struck gold with that class. No other group mixed with nobles, commoners, or outsiders would have survived and grown stronger as a team. I’m sure we know people who would rather die than work with their opposing class, and not many of them can turn a new leaf like Regnitz. Can you imagine if Alphonse was part of that class? It would’ve never worked out.” 

“Well, the fact that none of them have transferred yet means I don’t have to worry about them disbanding. Plus, social status does not appear to be a problem with this class.”

“Yet they still have trouble working together despite knowing each other for two weeks. At least Old Class VII had people who could act as a backbone to keep the more turbulent ones from making the class implode. However, who does your class have? If what you’re telling me is true, none of their attitudes mesh well with each other, causing them to all instigate one another.”

Crossing his arms, Crow leans back in his seat. “Well, it’s not like I can do anything about that unless they transfer a miracle into the class.”

“They don’t need a miracle student to fix all their problems when there’s clearly someone else here who’s capable of uniting people.”

Crow lets out an unamused laugh. “Yeah, uniting people for a cause that means nothing.”

Patrick sighs. “And this is where I tell you the second reason that Sara was able to succeed while you might not be. She has a keen eye—”

“I have a keen eye, too.”

“—Let me finish, Armbrust! Both of you have a keen eye for people and both of you have sharp intuitions. Honestly, if I was talking to the you before the Civil War ended, I wouldn’t even be having this conversation but, unlike Sara, you stopped bothering to care.” 

Crow’s casual smirk becomes flat. 

“I don’t know if it’s your way of coping with the hand you’ve been dealt, and I can’t even say you’re wrong for doing so. However, it’s clear as day to all your friends that you’ve been closing your eyes to the world. You look at people like they’re made of cardboard. You treat every day like a new checklist that needs to be completed. You act like you’re… just a cog in a machine, doing no more or less than what’s expected of you. Given your record for rebellion, your behavior is worrying to see.”

“Aw, are you saying that you’re my friend, Patty-Cake?”

“There you go, deflecting again. Hiding from a truth you don’t want to admit.” 

Sheesh, when did this guy get so mature, so good at reading him? He remembers when their connection was shallow, when he always made jokes about assisting in his murder with Elise’s overprotective— 

“I’m not hiding. This is who I really am.” He tips his chair back and carefully balances himself on the back two legs of the chair. “This is just who C is without a goal. Just surviving, not living.”

Patrick still stares at him with a stubborn gaze. It’s getting frustrating. He’s staying alive for his friends. What more can they ask for him when he’s been stripped of his freedom?

“You were still kind enough to watch out for your juniors.”

“...”

“Look, I know—”

“Sorry, but you don’t know.”

“—Fine, I don’t know what you’re going through. But, as someone who used to not care like you, I have an obligation to warn you: If those students die, would you regret not having done more to protect them?”

Crow pushes his weight forward, letting the chair stand on all four legs again. “Where is this question coming from?” 

“You would hear it more if you actually paid attention to the world.” Patrick looks around before he leans closer and whispers. “Something is in the air. Monsters are growing stronger. Otherworldly monsters are growing more plentiful. The chancellor’s international policies are becoming increasingly aggressive and the people are being swept in a wave of dark nationalism. It’s clear that something big will happen soon, and it might be worse than the Civil War.” 

“I know that.” He may not have been paying attention to those specific events, but he’s not surprised. Osborne has made it clear that he’s a greedy son of a bitch. First Jurai, then Crossbell, and then North Ambria. “But I still don’t see your point.”

Patrick groans. “You sing your woes about being a caged bird, but you forget there are things you can do in your cage. Prince Olivert has given you a chance to change the future. Perhaps not your own, but of others.”

Crow grumbles. “I doubt they’d want my help.”

“See, that's the thing. If we stop trying because people hate us, we wouldn't go so far. Plus, when has that stopped you before?”

It… hasn't. The Civil War was the best time to cut everyone off, but he didn't. For whatever reason.

Crow leans his cheek in the palm of his hand while his other hand knocks a familiar rhythm against the table. “Man, I was so much cooler back when I was a student, huh?”

Patrick huffs. “You were never cool, Armbrust.”

That gets a chuckle out of him. He stands up and ruffles Patastrophe’s hair out of revenge.

“Hey! Stop! Do you have any idea how long it took for me to fix my hair today!?”

Heh, he misses this.

…

He misses… this? How often has he done this?

Again, a familiar ache creeps up his head.

“You’re right, I really shouldn't be sitting on my ass doing nothing. If something terrible does happen, there's a chance these kiddos might be able to stop it. Wouldn't be the first time Class VII ended a war~”

Patrick snorts. “Just leave your sister out of it this time.”

They pause and stare at each other.

“Sister?” Crow’s 100% sure he doesn’t have one.

“Sorry, I don’t know what came over me,” Patrick’s brows pinch together as he stares into the distance. “For some reason, I thought you were…”

“Thought I was what?”

“Nevermind.” 

 

[Scene 3 - What can be done within a cage]

Crow looks around for his students. They’re nowhere to be found in the highway surrounding Saint Arkh. He hears from the locals that they saw them go into Isthmia Great Forest for a quest.

He bumps into Potters who’s complaining to him. “Plebeian! Where are those students? Aren’t you supposed to be watching them?! You know if they die, then they’re going to blame me! Me! And then I’m going to blame YOU! Do you really want that?!”

Crow rolls his eyes. Potters doesn’t stop pestering him and even follows him to Isthmia Great Forest but doesn’t contribute in any way to destroying the monsters in their path. He gets a call from Kurt via their ARCUS. Kurt states that they need some help.

They find New Class VII at the heart of the forest. Crow’s gut sinks when he realizes that they’re fighting a cryptid—what’s a fucking cryptid doing in the middle of nowhere—and swoops in to save the day with a little help from Ordine. 

“Instructor Crow!” Kurt breathes out a sigh of relief. “Thank you for coming!”

“Are you daft? Why are you thanking him?” Potters screeches. “I am the one who told him to save you so I should be getting the credit here!”

Ash sarcastically rolls his eyes. “Yeahhh, thank you so much for doing the bare minimum. Want us to rub your shoulders and hand you a crown while we’re at it?”

“The disrespect is unbelievable! I don’t know what Prince Olivert sees in you scum! He’s clearly delusional!” 

“Scum? You’re calling us scum?” Juna growls from where she sits on the floor. There’s a bloody gash on her shoulder. It definitely needs immediate medical attention. “We’re the ones fighting with our lives, completing requests for a corrupt government that sees us as trash! We’re doing our best here while all you do is bitch and moan about how your coffee doesn’t have enough sugar! Like, seriously?! There’s so much wrong with the world but the little inconveniences in life are where you want to die on a hill! That’s so pathetic! You’re the scum here!”

“Why you—” Potters steps forward and, for the first time ever, pulls out his rapier. “You dare speak to me when you’re from a failed little country? You ought to be taught your place!”

Before he can swing his sword, Crow knocks it out of his grip with a swift punch to his wrist.

“OW! Armbrust! You dare lay a hand on nobility—”

Crow scoffs. “Dude, did you forget who won the war? I basically have more status than you. They ain’t gonna throw me in prison for this.” 

“That’s it! There’s no hope for you filth!” Potters stomps his foot on the ground. “I quit! Ha, good luck getting a replacement instructor as good as me!” 

He stomps away and out of the forest, probably forgetting that monsters are still lurking about. Whatever. Good riddance. 

When he hears Juna grunt, however, Crow has to reevaluate his priorities. Right, injured students means aid is required. He takes out a first aid kit and approaches her. 

“Stay away from me!” she shouts. Her eyes are unsteady. Possibly reaching a state of delirium from blood loss. “You’re the last person I need help from!”

“Yeah, sorry you hate me, but you need first aid.”

“Yeah, well I don’t need it from you!”

“Tch, you’re being so stubborn. Are you so proud that you’d rather die than accept help from someone you hate?”

Juna grits her teeth, but the fire burning in her eyes is enough of an answer. It makes Crow pause. For a moment, he sees a reflection of his younger self.

As ironic as it is, Crow can probably relate with Juna the most about her situation. The hatred for the Empire is all there. It burns.

It blinds. 

He knows it too well, reflected in a mirror and in all his former comrades. He knows too well the fate of what happens to those who cling to their hatred. He doubts she has the guts to become a terrorist, but a road paved by hate always leads to demise. 

He wasn’t really convinced earlier, but maybe Patrick had a point. His freedom is limited, but that doesn’t mean he can’t do anything. If he cares to look, if he cares to try, maybe he can at least nudge these gremlins on a better path. He can at least prove that he learned from his mistakes by teaching others not to repeat them. 

Maybe someone might agree that it’s one way to redeem himself. 

“Allow me,” Musse grabs the first aid kid. He’s vaguely aware of how her ARCUS has no more EP. “Juna, will you allow me to help you?”

“Who? Oh… Musse? I.. I don’t know, I guess?” 

Good enough for them.

Crow lets out a sigh as he sits back and watches Musse stop the bleeding and wrap up the wounds. Glancing around, he assesses the other students.

“Ash, how are you holding up?”

“Relax, it’s just a paper cut,” is what Crow gets for showing a modicum of concern. 

He huffs out a laugh. “Well, luckily for you, I have a bandaid perfect for paper cuts. It has cute bunnies and rainbows on it, just for you~”

“Asshole.” 

“Instructor Crow…” There’s a guilty look in Kurt’s eyes; he can’t even look straight at Crow. “I’m sorry. We failed the quest.” 

“What are you sorry about? Just means you weren’t ready for it yet.”

He must’ve said the wrong words when he sees a visible flinch from all the students. Alright, time to backtrack.

“It’s okay to not be ready—”

“Old Class VII would’ve handled it without failure,” Kurt cuts him off. “I doubt the others care as much as I do, but I look up to our predecessors. I feel like We— I’m failing to uphold Class VII’s legacy.” 

“Hey now, that class was ten times more of a shitstorm than you all. First off, one of its guys was a fucking terrorist who wanted to plunge this country into chaos. I don’t think any of you can get any lower than that.” 

He closes his eyes but he can still feel their gazes pierce through him. 

“Still, there was hope for him. There still is. If that’s possible, then you guys have nothing to worry about,” he sighs. “I know all of you have your reasons for joining this class, and maybe it’s to get revenge on the guy who started a war, killed someone you knew, or played a massive role in taking over your home. Who knows? I won’t judge, but… Here’s my advice. Make sure to make your time here worth it. You don’t have to live up to Old Class VII’s legacy, you only have to live up to your own.”

A beat of silence.

And then Musse ruins the moment with some—he feels like it’s patronizing—claps. “Aw, how inspirational, Instructor Crow! I think I’m falling for you already~♡”

What the fuck.

Her innocent smile betrays none of her thoughts. 

He really… can’t get a read on this Mildine chick at all. Oh well, never trust a Cayenne. 

“Inspirational? Yeah right, he just sounds like he’s old,” Ash helpfully adds in his two mira. 

Is this what it feels like to be Sara?

Juna doesn’t say anything, presumably passed out. 

“If it’s any consolation to you, Instructor Crow, I believe your words hold merit.”

Well, at least one of the students will take his words to heart. That takes away a significant amount of regret for spewing out so much sap. 

“Alright, enough of this Instructor♡ business. I’m just a part-time substitute.”

“Are you sure about that?” Musse winks at him, now finished with wrapping Juna up in bandages. “Instructor Potters just quit, so wouldn’t that make you our full-time instructor from now on?”

Solely because of Musse’s devious good-girl act and Ash’s penchant for making smartass comments to everything he has to say, Crow yells out “Oh hell no!”

Plus, while he studied a bunch to graduate, he forgot all the material like three days after the tests were over. If he had to teach that shit, he’d be doomed. Doomed!

 

• This part is just a refresher on what else happens that’s relevant but pretty much unchanged in this version of the story. 
• They try to explore more but Michael refuses to let them. They get attacked by archaisms but Laura saves the day
• Upon returning to base camp, Duvalie and Shirley attack them. Fie and Elliot appear to help out. Duvalie and Shirley retreat
• Next day, Lechter delivers an order from Osborne: “Discover the motives of the society and prevent them from realizing them.” Fie, Elliot, and Laura join to help
• They talk to Toval about how Osborne took over the Phantasmal Blaze Plan and Ouroboros are trying to take it back. 
• Agate appears and gives them a bunch of quests
• They go to the Dreknor Fortress to visit Olaf Craig and Neithardt for information about where Ouroboros’ base is. Apparently, they’re not allowed to divulge any information, but after more persuasion, they will help them get there. It’s Hamel and they need Marquis’ Hyarms’ permission to get there
• Warns them about the truth behind Hamel
• They head off to Parm to enter Hamel. 

 

---

Chapter  70 - Strings of Fate

[Scene 1 - Self Discovery]

Two years have passed and Altina’s attempts to reconnect the Ashen Saint with his past have all proven to be futile. They’ve been on enough missions to wander past his old hometown, his old school, and his old friends, yet none of his reactions have been significant. 

Though, perhaps this is a good thing. Neither his family nor his friends appear to recognize him. Altina still struggles with empathy, but she knows what it’s like to be forgotten. While they weren’t particularly close, she can finally admit that the Ashen Saint’s lack of memory of her has caused her distress. It might be distressing for others if they realized that everyone they knew forgot about them. 

Of course, she prefers not to make assumptions on how others feel due to her lack of experience, so she had (reluctantly) consulted Milium for her opinion. 

…

“How would I feel if someone forgot about me? Hm, I don’t know because it never happened to me! Hm, but if someone like Jusis told me he doesn’t know me anymore… Oh yeah, I’d DEFINITELY be sad.”

Altina cocked her head at the familiar homunculus. “You know what it’s like to be sad?”

“Yeah! Wait, I do? Oh yeah, I’ve been sad before, but I don’t remember why… Huh. I wonder if I have ambrosia or whatever it’s called.”

“Amnesia.”

“Yeah! That word!”

…

So, Altina doesn’t bother rekindling the past anymore when all efforts seem wasted. Instead, she has come up with a different strategy, one that she knows will work based on experience. Before the Ashen Saint died, he had given her one final request: To discover herself.

She had dismissed it immediately at first. Such a thing is a waste of time and effort, according to Black Alberich. However, having been dissatisfied at watching the Ashen Saint not act like himself for too long, she began to wonder if there is value in self discovery. 

After two years of trying this so-called “Journey of Self Discovery” out, she can objectively say that there is worth in letting oneself be who they are. She knows because otherwise, she would not have been able to experience humanity’s objectively best creation: Pancakes. 

Mn. Delicious. 

“Black Rabbit, it’s time to go.” 

“Negative.” This has become her most frequent word since working with the new version of the Ashen Saint. “You haven’t eaten breakfast yet.”

He sighs as he pulls on his worn cloak. “You know I don’t need to.” 

“True, but I refuse to waste a single pancake. I won’t share the target’s coordinates with you until these are finished?” 

Without an argument, the Ashen Saint (begrudgingly) grabs a pancake and takes a bite out of it. “By now, I would think you would know how many pancakes you’re able to finish in one sitting.”

She does know, but not all of them are for her.

It hasn’t been long since she has discovered that there is value in selfishness, too.

 

[Scene 2 - Mission]

• So, their mission is to track down a member of Ouroboros who has been spotted in the area. After some investigation, they find the target (it’s Gilbert. Of course it is). Gilbert flees and of course he flees into restricted territory (Hamel). 
• They catch up to Gilbert at the gravesite. The Ashen Saint falters for a moment at the sight of it. In true Gilbert fashion, he picks this place to start his counterattack with his archaeisms and jaegers. 
• The Ashen Saint and Altina beat them up. Before they can restrain them, two new presences show up.

“We’re surrounded,” Altina notes as she observes the newcomers. Shirley Orlando and Stahlritter Duvalie. Enemies. 

The Ashen Saint acknowledges their presence with a simple tilt of his head. 

“HAHA! LOOKS LIKE THE TABLES HAVE TURNED!” Gilbert laughs maniacally as he leaps towards his allies and begs them for help. 

Duvalie just points her sword at his neck and seethes. “Have you no shame?! Do you have any idea how disgraceful it is for the dead to fight on top of the land where their corpses are buried?!”

“Well, they’re already dead— GAH!”

Shirley kicks his side and he tumbles over. “Man, I know I’m unhinged, but even I know there’s a time and place for a fight.” She calls over to the jaegers. “Boys, pack it up!”

Before they can move, the Ashen Saint levels his blade at one of the jaeger’s necks. “Do you think we’ll let you go that easily?” 

“Yeah, I mean. Who the heck are you anyway? What do you care about some shady people doing in some place no one cares about anymore?” Shirley crosses her hands behind her back. “Actually, aren’t you the more shady one here? At least we have an excuse coming from a shady organization. What’s your deal being here? Ain't this place restricted or something?”

“The Black Rabbit is with him, so I imagine he’s part of the Intelligence Division. A higher up if he has access here,” Duvalie mutters. “An Eight Leaves One Blade practitioner too.” 

Shirley grins like a shark. “Ooh, a big shot, huh? Wonder how strong he is?”

Duvalie hisses at her and whacks her head with a bundle of flowers. “Did you forget what I said about disrespecting the dead?!” She calms down and addresses Altina and the Ashen Saint. “If you’re looking for a fight, we’ll give you one. Can you at least allow us to pay our respects to the fallen?”

From what Altina has observed, the Ashen Saint discards any morals if they become obstacles to their missions. So, it surprises her when he nods and sheaths his sword. 

“Go ahead.” 

• They wait farther away from the gravesite as they watch the two pay their respects to Loewe. True to their word, the members of Ouroboros return and fight. 
• Altina focuses on defense but finds herself lagging behind. Between Duvalie’s speed—being able to act multiple turns before Altina can act again—and Shirley’s raw strength—breaking through her defenses with ease—Altina feels a little useless. Even while the Ashen Saint is managing to hold up on his own, it will be inevitable before he gets overwhelmed by their teamwork. 
• Eventually, they unbalance him and move in for the final blow. Alrina won't be able to shield him and (almost) panics, but unexpected reinforcements arrive. 
• A double sabre intercepts the attack.
• “Wow, when I heard fighting, this was the last lineup I was expecting to see,” Crow says. Fie, Elliot, Laura, and Agate arrive with him. 
• They win, but are repelled by Ines and Ennea and Gareth.
• Ash comes from behind and strikes, along with Kurt, Juna, and Musse appearing from the sides
• Shirley pushes a button which activates Aion Type-Gamma II, the same type that wiped out Crossbell’s 5th Division. 
• Altina waits to see if the Ashen Saint will summon Valimar. But Crow beats him to the punch and summons Ordine. After the fight, Rutger, Xeno and Leo appear and greet Fie.
• Then all Ouroboros people leave.

While everyone else is still watching in confusion how Rutger Claussell is not dead and escaped on a Divine Knight, Altina gets a signal from the Ashen Saint to leave. Before they can leave, Crow blocks their way. 

“And where do you think you’re going, Ashen Saint?” 

Altina stares at the silent tension building between the two. It’s an odd sight, especially when she remembers how close they used to be. She wonders if she’s unlucky for being the only one who remembers the truth. If she didn’t remember, she could live without worrying about the Ashen Saint.

Hm. No. She isn’t satisfied with this thought.

She would rather carry the burden of these memories than be wiped of them. 

“...Azure Chevalier,” her partner finally responds. “I don’t believe I’m obligated to tell you about my whereabouts.” 

Crow crosses his arms. “Well, whether I like it or not, I’m kinda in charge of this nation’s security. And you’re trespassing on a national secret.”

“We have clearance,” Altina says.

“So the Ashen Saint is working with the Intelligence Division? And here I thought you were some good samaritan, not a government dog. Should’ve known some things are too good to be true.”

“Perhaps. Now, will you let us go without any trouble?”

“Not so fast,” a new voice joins in. They all turn and see General Aurelia Le Guin stroll towards them, walking as if there isn’t a giant greatsword hanging on her back. 

Altina hears Crow and Randolph Orlando grumble.

The woman pats the Ashen Saint on the back a little too hard. Altina flinches, knowing that the center of his chest is still sore, even if it has been two years. 

“I haven’t seen you since North Ambria. Still parading around as a wanderer?”

“...I have my orders.” 

“Orders, huh?” Aurelia Le Guin mutters. Her sharp gaze drifts over him until they land on his tachi. “You know, one of my instructors just quit for reasons unknown and it’ll take some time to find a replacement. Think you can spare some time and fill in for him?”

Altina can hear everyone else eavesdropping on this conversation squawk in surprise. 

“Like I said, I have my orders.”

Aurelia pats him in the back again. “Well then, I'll make a formal request to ol’ Osborne. Maybe you can squeeze in a teaching gig along with your other duties, because Aidios knows Armbrust can't teach.”

Crow deadpans at her. “I’m just going to ignore that dig at me and ask: Does he even have a diploma?”

“Orlando doesn't have a diploma and look where he is. Plus, I doubt someone so incompetent would be called one of Osborne’s Ironbloods.”

Pause.

“WHAT?!”

While the chaos of the eavesdroppers converge on the topic of interest, Altina just stands to the side, wondering if she’ll have to file an application for the school if Aurelia Le Guin succeeds. 

 

[Scene 3 - Together, Strings make a Web]

Crow talks with Laura, Fie and Elliot before they separate at the train station.

“An Ironblood, huh,” Fie chuckles without humor. “Anyone else getting hit with a sense of deja vu?”

Elliot nods. “Yeah, it sure was a shock when we found out Rufus was one too.’

That revelation didn't hit so hard back then due to all the other shit happening at the same time though.

Laura pensively stares at the Ashen Saint, who's stepping onto the train. “The Chancellor certainly has a good eye for talent.” Her eyes drift to the sword strapped to his side. “Not many practice the Eight Leaves One Blade style in the empire.”

Fie wiggles her eyebrows at her. “Ooh? You wanna pick a fight with the Ashen Saint?”

Even though the question isn't for him, Crow entertains the thought. The practitioners of that school are crafty. If that guy is experienced, he'd surely be a difficult opponent.

His thoughts stop.

…Wait, how does he know this? Has he fought someone from that school before?

No? No. He hasn't.

“Perhaps,” Laura replies after a terse silence. “But, I must admit, I'm getting a bad feeling from him.”

“You can feel it too?” Elliot asks.

“Oh good, I thought I was the only one,” Crow sighs.

Fie nods. “Yeah. I don't know if it's because we're more experienced now, but there's something off about this guy compared to the last time we met.”

“Well, considering he's working directly under Osborne now, I wouldn't be surprised if he had his own evil agenda,” Crow grumbles.

They all stare at him awkwardly. They always do that when he mentions the employer he's stuck with.

“Anyway…” Fie not-so-smoothly changes the subject. “How's your teaching gig going? I see we lost our bet, seeing how you haven't got fired yet.”

“Why the hell did you bet on that? C’mon, Ol’ Crow ain't even that bad.”

They all deadpan at him.

Laura starts. “Well, given how much of a slacker—”

“Troublemaker,” Elliot says.

“And cheater,” Fie adds in.

“—you were in school, we thought you would've been fired by now.”

“Damn! Do none of you have any faith in my teaching abilities?”

“No.” As confident as ever, Laura.

“Nope.” As casual as ever, Fie.

“Sorry…” As unapologetic as ever, Elliot.

Wow, thanks guys. Are they trying to fill in their “Bully Crow” quota or something?

Crow scoffs. “Well, I'll have you know, I'm the number one most famous instructor in the school. I can't just leave and let my fans down~”

“Yeah right, more like infamous.”

Oh dammit, looks like his little ducklings started to eavesdrop on their conversation.

“Oh?” Fie smirks as she looks toward Ash. His other lovely students take that as a cue to join in. “Do tell.”

“Caught him smuggling porn in the train,” Juna deadpans.

“To be fair, that was for Randy.”

(“Hey, don't rat me out!” A certain red-head yells from the back.)

Musse smiles. And nothing good comes out of her mouth when she does. “Not to mention, our lovely instructor went rogue and ditched us in the middle of our field study to get mauled by a big, scary monster~♡”

Crow feels like his friends are drowning him in their looks of judgement. He shrugs. “What? Just channeling my inner Sara.”

Fie snorts. “Should've known she'd be your role model.” She then points to the last student who has yet to speak. Kurt. “What about you? Got any dirt on Ol’ Crow here?”

For once, Crow is spared from some humiliation.

“No. I've already aired out my grievances with him. Compared to the instructor of Old Class VII, I suppose Instructor Crow is… passable.”

Crow pats his back in good nature. “See! This is why this guy is my favorite.”

Elliot chuckles awkwardly. “I'm not sure you're supposed to say that…”

“Whatever. Anyway, as much as I would love to continue this session of bashing yours truly, looks like my train’s here. See ya!”

And so Crow makes his smoothest escape away from his friends.

---

 

Chapter 71  - Beneath the Mask

[Scene 1 - Crow]

“Holy shit, I can’t believe that demon principal actually did it.” 

Crow is also still in disbelief. Not long after they returned from the field study, life returned to normal. As normal as it could get with the addition of four little ducklings who hated him less. Because he was forced to actually teach some material (history, his worst subject), he thought Aurelia’s offer to the Ashen Saint was just a joke. 

So, tell him why, on the day he is actually somewhat prepared for the class, he walks in and finds the lil’ bunny eating a stack of pancakes at one of the seats while the Ashen Saint sits at the teacher’s desk. 

“Azure Chevalier, you’re late to class.”

Man, he ain’t even a student so he can come and go as he pleases! Especially now that he clearly has a replacement.

Still, Crow is curious. While he doesn’t believe this guy will be as bad as Potters, he doubts he’ll be that good. The monotonous drawl of his voice already makes for a good lullaby—

Crow wakes up with some drool hanging from the corner of his mouth and half of his face sore from being squished against the desk. His vision is still a little bleary, so when he looks up to the front of the class where someone is speaking, he sees a stranger. At the same time, it looks like… someone he knows. 

His heart begins to fill with ache.

Well, until his vision clears up, then all he sees is just the Ashen Saint. Man, with every day that passes, he feels like he’s losing more of his goddess-damned mind. 

He sits through the rest of class without passing out. Honestly, the guy isn’t a bad teacher. He clearly knows his material and he has the patience to answer the kiddos’ questions. He’s definitely doing a better job at this than Crow would. As a teacher, Crow holds nothing against him.

As a person? Crow doesn’t trust this guy one bit. Everytime he looks at this guy, his gut sinks, and he always trusts his gut. Plus, being an Ironblood disguised as a saint? There’s obviously an agenda behind all his good will. Maybe Crow doesn’t regret stealing his mira anymore. 

When it’s time for lunch, the Ashen Saint is the first to leave class, followed by Altina. Crow tries to catch up with them, but they vanish the moment he gets a step through the door. They’re slick, though he’s not surprised when he remembers Altina has some stealth capabilities.

He sighs and pushes his hands in his pockets. As the rest of the students filter out of their classes, he listens to their gossip.

“Hey, did you hear that the Ashen Saint is the new homeroom instructor for Class VII?” 

“Yeah, I saw a glimpse of him in the hallway and oh. my gosh. The way he carries himself? His hair? His face? He’s so dreamy!”

“Haha, you can’t even see half of his face.” 

“Yeah, but based on the structure of it, he’s probably hot!”

“I wonder what he’s hiding underneath the mask.”

“Can you imagine if it’s someone you know?!”

“Oh stop, how many people do you know even have white hair?”

“Well, some girl with white hair just transferred into Class VII.”

“What if they’re siblings?” 

Crow hears more conversations of the like as he rounds the floor and enters the faculty lounge. There, he sees Towa and Randy getting their lunch out.

“Man, some guys have all the luck,” Randy laments. “This Ashen Saint guy just got here and half the school has already fallen for him. How is that even possible? The dude’s covering half his face and that cloak shows not even a rege of his figure!”

Towa chuckles. “To be fair, he’s kind of like an urban legend in the empire. They say he’s a symbol of good luck, especially since he has a reputation of helping you out if you ask.”

“Seems kinda sus now that we know he’s an Ironblood. Man, this takes me back to when I thought Lechter was just some weird tourist. Ironbloods sure have a penchant for hiding in plain sight, huh?”

“I guess you’re right,” Crow says, taking his seat and opening his lunch box. “Milium and Rufus also hid in plain sight, though one was more obvious than the other.”

Randy groans at the mention of the governor general. Right, sore topic…

“Makes you wonder why he's still hiding his face when the gig is up. It's not like anyone will not be able to recognize him from his hair alone.”

“Maybe he just looks ugly,” Crow grumbles.

“Now, now. I know some of us have biases towards the people who work directly under Chancellor Osborne…” Towa tries to placate them as if she isn't speaking to an ex-terrorist and Crossbellian. “But that doesn't mean we should be mean to him. He hasn't done anything to hurt us.”

Yet. That they know of.

“Well, I'm not gonna trust anyone who hides his face,” Crow says as if he didn't have a habit of doing exactly that a few years ago. He'd know better than anyone.

“Same. Plus, he almost killed Lloyd and Rixia.”

Crow chokes on his burger. Based on the sputtering he hears from a distance, he suspects Towa met with a similar fate.

“WHAT?!”

“Yeah, I heard the lil’ bunny girl stopped him, but…” Randy's face darkens. “I'm not going to forgive and forget that easily.”

Crow and Towa stare at him in silence, not really sure what to say. Hell, it really makes him wonder what the Ashen Saint’s role is amongst the Ironbloods. It isn't every or any day you hear Rufus, Lechter, Claire, or Million out on a mission to kill anyone, let alone a random detective in another land. In the end, Crow decides to try to lighten the mood.

“Think he wears that mask to bed or the shower? Maybe we can catch him removing it.”

Towa pouts. “Crow...”

“C’mon, Towa. Aren't you a little curious?” Crow says. “Don't you think it's crazy no one recognizes a guy with those features? Plus, doesn't he practice the Eight Leaf One Blade sword thing? That's like the ultimate recipe for popularity.”

“Eight Leaf One Blade, huh?” Randy mutters. “I wonder if Arios would know anything about him…”

“Man, it’s a shame you can't just contact him and ask.”

“Yeah…”

And it's not like they're going to Crossbell anytime soon.

 

[Scene 2 - Altina]

Instructor Crow doesn't return to class. Based on the debriefing, he doesn't have to. It seems the Ashen Saint will take over teaching the classes while Instructor Crow will lead the field studies, thus giving them more time to fulfil their individual missions.

Speaking of missions, Altina has her own.

“Instructor. The answer is 1142.”

“Correct.”

Yes, adapting to the life of a student and addressing  the Ashen Saint as “Instructor.”

At first, she had no issues. The material isn't too difficult to comprehend and it doesn't seem like Instructor is having trouble adapting either. All is well.

“Allie!”

Except, she hasn't taken into account the possibility of making… friends. She doesn't try. She really doesn't. Doesn't even know how to.

But then, Juna and her are roommates, so talking at night about their day is inevitable. Musse sometimes drags her along when she wants to pull a prank on one of their classmates or instructors (specifically her Instructor). Kurt lets her spar with him and Ash sometimes grabs a book that's a little too high on the shelf in the library (and it's too narrow to just summon Clahm-Solais).

Before she knows it, many days pass and she's a member of the swimming club. Now everyone greets her when she passes by.

It's… overwhelming. Having so-called friends. But not unwelcome.

She wonders if this is why Instructor used to look so happy when he was a student. She wonders if he's lonely now that he no longer has any.

Unlike her, Instructor is successful in keeping to himself. Despite being a hot topic of discussion at school, not many approach him anymore.

Half of the faculty have noticeably distanced themselves away from him while the students have probably grown tired of looking for answers and getting nothing. If someone strikes a conversation with the instructor, there's a good chance he won't even say anything. 

Some say he's rude for ignoring them. Others say he looks like he's living in his own world. Everyone agrees that he is different from the Ashen Saint they remember.

It's curious how they remember the Ashen Saint but have no recollection of the Ashen Chevalier.

Regardless, Altina feels unsatisfied with this situation. It compels her to confront the instructor on the rooftop one day. She finds him leaning his back against the fence. 

(Rooftop. It gives her a sense of unease. She recalls a record where he once fell off a roof.)

“Altina.”

She perks up at the sound of her name. Automatically, she knows the person beneath the mask is not the instructor, not the Ashen Saint, but is. Split personality, he had once summarized to her when she once caught him stripping and diving into a hot spring during one of their missions. Ishmelga, this one prefers to be called, and Altina allows herself to do so because he is not the instructor. 

“What’s the situation now?”

It used to be rare for this alternate personality to surface. When he did, he would usually disappear in the night, uncaring of their current mission, and return to the bed of their inn a few mornings later, waking up as his normal self. No matter what, Altina could never track him down.

This year, she has noticed that Ishmelga has been able to consistently surface at least once a month. He used to not care to pretend to be his other self’s life, but now he asks. Now he tries to blend in when more eyes start to look at them.

Altina is not obligated to tell him anything. After all, he is not the Ashen Saint. He has said so himself.

Yet, compared to his counterpart, he acts more like the Ashen Saint before he died, so…

He is. He has to be. Even if he’s just a tiny fragment. 

That is why Altina has no problem cooperating with this so-called Ishmelga.

A deep chuckle reverberates from his throat. It’s one unique to him and not his other self. “Dreichels… Haha… That man never fails to surprise me.” 

“Will this affect your progress?”

“None at all.” 

Altina breathes a sigh of relief. There is another reason why she chooses to cooperate with this alternate personality. He has promised her that he’s working on bringing his other self back to normal. His only request is that she does not report to the Black Workshop about his existence. 

It’s a little suspicious, but this is the only help she can get help on this matter. She will overlook it. 

“While you’re still here, can we resume our previous activity?” she asks.

“Hm? What was it again?”

“You were teaching me how to fish.” 

She catches a glimpse of sharp teeth behind his smile. 

They go fishing near the stream in Leeves. She has already grasped the theory of the sport. Cast, lure, hook, and catch. In practice, however, she’s hopeless. Especially when compared to her mentor, who seems to be catching fish in seconds. 

After all this time, she hasn’t been able to catch a single fish.

Sometimes she gets thoughts of throwing away the rod and just taking a swim herself. 

But then…

A fish bites.

Her body whirls before her mind can. Before she knows it, she pulls her rod up and there’s a fish dangling from the hook.

“Instructor, look!” she exclaims before remembering she’s not with the Instructor. She’s with—

A hand pats the hat on her head.

She looks up. The man is silent. It’s difficult to determine who is behind the mask when he doesn’t speak, but it doesn’t matter. She still takes off her hat and enjoys the moment. 

“Looks like someone’s having fun.”

“Right? Isn’t that adorable?”

“And here I was beginning to think this guy had no hobbies. Of course it had to be the most boring one though.” 

Drawn by their voices, she looks back to see the rest of her classmates staring at them. His hand leaves her head and she places her hat back on. 

She tilts her head inquisitively to them. “Do you… want to join?”

Musse is the first with a reaction, clasping her hands together with a bright smile. “Oh, how I would love to get the chance to spend quality time with our dear instructor and dear new classmate!”

Ash huffs. “Who’d wanna fish with a couple of suckers like you?”

“Aw, Ash…” Musse snickers. “Don’t think we can’t tell that your whole tough guy act is compensating for your complete lack of fishing skill.”

“And don’t think I’m going to fall for your obvious bait.”

“Well, don’t come to us if you’re ever looking for a fish,” Juna says as she takes a seat at the edge of the dock. She grabs one of the spare fishing rods. “I, for one, am not passing up this opportunity! Maybe I can become an Angler God like someone I know…”  

Kurt nods. “Fishing is an essential skill to have. You never know if you might be stranded on an island in the middle of nowhere.” 

Ash scoffs. “Fat chance of that happening.”

“It’s not nonzero,” Altina adds in her two mira. “The Instructor and I were stranded on an island for three days for one of our missions.”

It had been the only time the Instructor had taken out a fishing rod out of his own volition, mostly so that Altina would have something to eat. 

“You two are a real piece of work.” 

“Are you joining us or not?” 

Ash turns around and waves them a lazy goodbye, but Altina doesn't focus on that. She swivels her head to focus on her partner. She forgot, too swept up in the pace of her classmates. He may not even bother teaching the rest of her class how to fish. Ishmelga might, if he’s in the right mood. His counterpart, however, does not take any action that is unnecessary. 

It all depends on whoever is beneath the mask at this moment. 

Their Instructor lets out a small sigh and scooches over, making more space on the dock. 

“Do as you wish,” he says and Altina knows exactly who it is now.

She can’t help but think back to her original goal when all her classmates get flabbergasted, screaming and gasping and reacting in all the ways unique to them, at how the Instructor manages to reel in a Blue Marlin, the size of an average adult man. It flies over them and lands with a loud wet thump on the ground. 

Maybe her classmates or friends or whatever they're called are a bit overwhelming, but maybe that means she won't have to worry too much about his self-imposed isolation. 

 

[Scene 3 - Can't Look Away]

Ash: “What the hell do we call you anyway. No offense—Actually, all offense—but calling you Ashen Saint all the time is weird.”

Juna: “Yeah, don’t you have a name or something? I get that you want your privacy, but isn’t this going too far?”

Musse: “Come now, you guys don’t understand. All the mystery is part of his charm. Secret name, secret past, secret face? Ah, he’s a man after my heart~”

Juna, sweatdropping: “I thought you had the hots for Instructor Crow.”

Musse: “Don’t you know? Love triangles are the dream of every teenage maiden~”

Kurt: “If secrecy is a must, then I suppose we can just call you Instructor.”

Ash: “No way! I ain’t showing this guy any hint of respect. If he doesn’t care what we call him, then he can just be Asshole.”

Kurt: “At least come up with a name more accurate.”

Ash: “Secret Asshole then.” 

Juna bursts out laughing: “Stop it! You sound like you have an obsession with a certain part of our instructor.”

“Fuck off!”

“That’s what you get for trying too hard to be a bad boy~”

Ash clicks his tongue. “Fine, whatever. He gets “Teach” but that’s as far as I’m willing to go.” 

The students of this class are a chaotic mess, but the Ashen Saint can't help but keep watching them. He reaches up and traces the edge of his mask.

He has no opinion on them individually, nor as a whole. They're only variables of another mission.

But… There's just something about them that he can't look away from.

 

---

 

“Freedom is what you do with what's been done to you” - Jean-Paul Sartre

Notes:

I know this isn't as far as you all were probably expecting for a chapter, but like… I wrote way more than I ever thought I would. Still somehow having a lot of fun here lol. So CSIII part one ends here. And on that note, I've decided that CSIII will have three parts. Yay…

The ideas were darker in my head, but it ended up being more lighthearted/crack than I thought. This cast is so silly. It helps that I'm not really touching you-know-who’s POV lol.

Man, it has been more than four years since I touched CSIV (Almost five years since CSIII). That's crazy to me. Also, that made it way harder for me to write New Class VII (with Altina being the only exception). I’m like partially aware that I’m kinda writing them like how they would act in Reverie cuz the beginning of CSIII is hazy to me. It also made it so hella hard writing their dynamic with Crow (especially with like… all their grievances toward him lol). Juna definitely is the hardest for me considering her thing in Crossbell didn't happen yet. It's also weird writing her with not so much tension with you-know-who... though I guess this gets a pass because she doesn't know that he almost tried to kill Lloyd yet lolll.

Also, I made the final executive decision to somewhat keep him the instructor of New Class VII. I really can’t imagine any universe where he’s not, and between Aurelia getting whatever she wants and Osborne secretly agreeing… That’s what happened lol. Even if it seems kinda convoluted, but whatever. Let’s just say that fate has its ways. Part of me feels like it’s too soon, but to be fair pacing is super off due to this format and… in retrospect, CSIII is kinda short. Short… Yeah... Haha…

Chapter 33: CSIII - Part Two

“Come back. Even as a shadow, even as a dream.”

— Euripides

 

---

 

Chapter  72 - Missing You

[Scene 1 - Clouded Eyes]

To say that Kurt is stressed is an understatement. A severe one at that.

Being forcibly separated from Prince Cedric— Losing the purpose he'd been given since he was a child is not something he can just easily bounce back from. What is he supposed to do now? What purpose does he have for continuing to?

He's not codependent. He's really not. That's why he enrolled at Thors Branch Campus instead of the main one. That and he doesn't know how to face Prince Cedric in the state that he's in now.

That's why he doesn't crumble internally when he’s attempting to fish alone and an all-too-familiar voice shatters his concentration. 

“Taking up a new hobby, huh. Kurt?”

His head snaps to face Prince Cedric standing not too far from him, wearing a friendly smile and the Thors Main Campus uniform.

“P- Prince Cedric! What brings you here?”

The prince claps him on his back, completely oblivious to the tension threatening to snap Kurtg’s back. Prince Cedric’s eyes are so sharp behind his innocent expression, a characteristic that wasn’t present when they separated. Since birth, they have been on the same wavelength, able to read each other no matter what. He would know better than anyone else that the person standing in front of him is not the same naive prince as before. 

“Am I not allowed to visit a dear friend?” 

A chill crawls up his spine. He doesn’t know what it is, but there is something dangerous lurking behind Prince Cedric’s smile. It reminds him of Musse, but it feels wrong to see this from his childhood friend. 

“I suppose not…” For a moment, Kurt has to look away from how different the prince is, but then looks back when he realizes his behavior might be perceived as betrayal. He shouldn’t be scared of Prince Cedric. “Is there anything here you want to do?”

“Hm, how about you show me around the place? I want a perspective of your experience here?”

And so Kurt gives Prince Cedric a tour of Leeves. It’s really nothing too different compared to when they toured Trista. They end up getting lunch and Kurt shows him how he’s trying to improve his fishing skills. 

Their conversations are filled with the changes in their lives and the new friends they’ve made. It lulls Kurt into a false sense of comfort until Prince Cedric stops in the middle of his excited chatter. He follows the prince’s gaze and sees Instructor Crow walking by, accompanied by Instructor Towa.

“I really am jealous of this school,” Prince Cedric eventually says when the instructors leave their line of sight. “You get the Golden Rakshasa and the Azure Chevalier. I’ve even heard that the elusive Ashen Saint is helping out…” 

“To be fair, I’ve heard that Prince Olivert had a hand in Instructor Crow’s placement here.”

“Then there should be no problem if Crow gets transferred over to the Main Campus, correct?”

Kurt stares at the prince, unsure what to think. Unsure what to say. 

“Naturally, you can transfer to my school too. I know Chancellor Osborne has said you can’t be my bodyguard anymore, but we can still be together as friends, right? If you want, some of your friends can come with you.” 

“Uh…”

Prince Cedric leans close to him, blue eyes piercing through him. “How about it, Kurt? Help me convince Crow to come to the Branch Campus so we can be together forever again.”

There is really something wrong here. He doesn’t know if it’s the prince’s attitude, his eyes, his smile, or his words, but he does not feel right standing next to the prince like this. Yet another failure as a Vander to feel this way. 

Still, he could never say no to his best friend.

—-

Their quest ends in failure immediately.

“Huh? Why the heck would you want me as your teacher?” Crow shrugs and scratches his head. “I’m not even good at my job.” 

“Naturally, anyone would love to have the experience of having the guidance of a hero like yourself,” Prince Cedric counters, still as stubborn as the rest of his family. “Plus, I would like to have more opportunities to show you my gratitude. If it weren’t for you, who knows if I would still be standing here today.” 

 For a moment, Crow gets a blank look on his face. Kurt notices it happen frequently when he’s reminded of the Civil War, especially of what happened in the Infernal Castle. 

“Nah, I already got enough thanks. It’s good enough for me that you’re alive, kid.” 

Of course, Prince Cedric still isn’t used to taking no for an answer. His innocent facade crumbles away, replaced by a frustrated sigh. “Is there anything I can do to change your mind?” 

“Hmm…” A devious glint flashes in Instructor Crow’s eyes. “Let’s spice things up here then. If you and your schoolmates can beat my kids up in a duel, then maybe I’ll consider joining.” 

There are shouts of protest, mostly from Juna and Ash (both of whom’s existence were ignored by Prince Cedric), but Crow waves away their displeasure. His words have already been said, and the prince is already hooked. 

“Then it’s a deal. Let’s arrange a duel for tomorrow,” Prince Cedric says, smiling again. It doesn’t reach his eyes. He turns around and walks away.

Then stops.

“Kurt? Aren’t you coming with me?”

Everyone stares at him. Kurt feels like his shoes have been glued to the ground. 

He is… expected to fight by Prince Cedric’s side. That has been his duty since he was young. Really, there is nothing wrong with fighting by his side again. There is nothing wrong with wanting to be back by his best friend’s side. 

Still, he can feel the eyes of all his classmates burning into him. Even though they haven’t been together for long, even if they have been fighting each other most of the time, to fight against them now feels like… betrayal. He still feels a duty toward them, toward Class VII. He still…

“Make sure to make your time here worth it. You don’t have to live up to Old Class VII’s legacy, you only have to live up to your own.”

It all comes down to betraying his best friend or betraying a legacy he has yet to discover. 

Both choices are their own mistakes. 

In the end, all Kurt can do is look away and say, “I'm sorry.”

The look of displeasure on Prince Cedric’s face is a stab to his gut.

The next day, the prince returns with a few other classmates to challenge New Class VII to the duel. Kurt feels hesitation in every swing of his sword, feels so wrong fighting against his oppenent. Every strike to Prince Cedric leaves him shaking, heaving. 

Something stronger than shame burns him alive when his former liege disarms him with ease. He truly isn’t worthy of standing by Prince Cedric’s side. 

Even though he's pretty sure he's holding his class back, New Class VII surprisingly comes out on top from the skirmish.

He's a little proud of them. This would've never been possible a few weeks ago.

Still, that doesn't dismiss the pain in his chest when Prince Cedric seethes. To anyone else, it seems like he's mad that he lost and feels inferior. To Kurt, it looks like he's angry because he's weak.

It's Kurt’s failure as a Vander for allowing him to feel such a way, but he can't ignore his own shortcomings. He refuses to stand by Prince Cedric’s side while he is still weak, still lost.

So, he practices under the moonlight, guided by a teaching he carries deep in his heart. Even if he doesn't remember where he originally heard these words from.

“First, they must know what it is they are using their sword against...” 

He doesn't know.

“Second, the reason why they are swinging their sword…” 

He doesn't know.

“And lastly, for whom they are using their sword.” 

“I don't know,” he grits out softly, wistfully, finally collapsing to the ground. That's it. Another day with no progress.

His eyes stare at the world above. The sky is empty tonight. It's nothing like the view at the Nord Highlands, full of stars.

No matter how many friends he makes here, he can't escape a certain loneliness.

The crunch of leaves catches his attention.

“Kurt, I don't believe that place is optimal for sleeping.”

It's Altina, accompanied by the Ashen Saint.

He would be lying if he said he wasn't suspicious about why an Ironblood and an Intelligence Division operative were allowed positions at the school. He doubts they're here just to teach and study. Judging by the fact that grime and blood are sticking to their clothes, a fact that was not apparent earlier today, he's pretty sure they're not even bothering to hide it.

“I’m just taking a break. I’ll return to the dormitory shortly.

Altina nods her head. The two walk past him.

Kurt is about to follow, but seeing the tachi rest by the Instructor’s side reignites his desperation. 

“Instructor.” 

Both their footsteps stop. Altina, however, looks at them for a moment before leaving them alone. 

The Ashen Saint doesn’t say anything, but the fact that he hasn’t left means that Kurt has his attention. It’s good enough.

“Can you spar with me?”

Again, he’s met with no words, but he hears the sound of metal unsheathing from a scabbard. He looks up to see the Ashen Saint assume an offensive stance, blood red tachi gleaming in the moonlight. The sight has Kurt scrambling to get up.

To be fair, he has asked the instructor this request a couple times before but he was now indulged. For the Instructor to change his mind now was curious, but he wasn’t going to lose this opportunity by questioning it. He picks up his two blades and fights with all he has. 

Of course, he stands no chance. Like with his duel with Instructor Crow, Kurt is left battered and bruised on the floor within a few minutes. 

The Ashen Saint observes him for a moment before pulling away his sword. The moment he turns away, Kurt chokes out: “Wait. I have a question for you.” 

His instructor doesn’t move. 

“I…” Kurt says with a pained exhale. “Do I appear lost to you?”

Again there are no words, yet also no movement. The Instructor is a very quiet person, never talking unless needed. It must be his way of prompting further explanation. 

“I’ve heard swordsmen, especially those from your discipline, are more intuitive with reading the hearts of those they clash with. So I just want to know… what you see in me.” 

There is another beat of silence. The wind gusts gently over them. 

“I see…” Quietly, the Instructor finally speaks. “...A hole. You fight like you are missing something.”

Kurt lets out a humorless sigh. He feels seen right through. 

“It is up to you to decide how that defines you, but you are not alone in this matter. I get the sense… that the Azure Chevalier is in a condition similar to yours. What matters now is not that you have an emptiness within you, it’s how you choose to balance it with other things in your life.”

Does balancing his emptiness mean replacing Prince Cedric? Would Kurt even be capable of that? Does he want to do that?

“What happens if I don’t find that balance?”

There’s another beat of silence.

“Then I suppose the emptiness will grow until it consumes you whole…” For once, his monotonous voice has an edge of melancholy to it. “And then you would become like me.” 

Kurt sits up quickly, intrigued. The Instructor never shares things about himself, so it’s a shock to hear any revelation, especially one so depressing, from the man. However, when Kurt turns to look, his instructor is gone. 

 

[Scene 2 - To be a Hero]

Of course, the announcement that they will be going to Crossbell for their field study reignites her anger. Juna hates Erebonia, hates its stupid government, hates its food, places, and people.

Okay, no. She's just being pathetic. She hates the empire's international policies, but she can't say that she hates its people and culture. Ugh! Why does everyone here have to be so nice?! Well, except Potters, Schmidt, Cedric, Ash, and Crow. They can all eat shi—

“Juna.”

“Wah— Yes?!” She blinks awake and wipes the drool off her face before holding her head up. There's no one else in the classroom except… “Instructor?”

It's odd. He's usually the one who leaves first. He usually doesn't approach anyone either unless it's part of his job.

After a couple weeks of having him as their instructor, she still doesn't know what to make of him. Besides teaching and fishing, she literally knows nothing about him and wonders if there really is nothing beneath the surface. She's still debating whether that's creepy or sad, not like she has much time for that when she's still trying to convince herself that she hates everyone in the empire.

Even when she’s making friends here. 

Even when she respects Claire, an Ironblood.

Even when she holds no ill will toward the person in front of her.

“I get the sense that you hold extreme hatred toward the Azure Chevalier.”

“Uh, what?” Her mind is still trying to wake up. “Where's this conversation coming from?”

“Your grades are falling behind. I assume it's because you're so fixated with him,” he says something so not true—definitely not true, she would not use the word fixated to describe herself—so nonchalantly before holding up a piece of paper. “You also wrote an essay about how much you hate the Azure Chevalier on your last homework assignment.”

“Wait a minute, I only got a 79 on that?”

“There are too many logical fallacies. The author is clearly clouded by her biases.”

Juna groans and buries her head in her arms. She thought she did really well on that essay.

“Is it so wrong to hate someone?”

It's a rhetorical question. She doesn't actually expect the instructor to reply, since he rarely does.

“It's not wrong.” She looks up at him in surprise. “But some might say that yours is misguided. Based on your proclaimed principles and the forces working against such principles, there are other candidates better suited to be the target of your hatred.”

Yeah. Like that Rufus guy or Osborne. She hates them too.

“I just really hate how he's paraded around as a hero when he's just an awful subjugator! What the heck is it about him that makes him heroic? He just makes people miserable!”

For a long moment of silence, the Ashen Saint just stares at her. Even this close, she can't even see the color of his eyes with that weird mask on. She hates how she can't tell if he's being patient with her or just flat out ignoring her.

It turns out to be the former.

“What do you think a hero is?”

Juna tries her best to suppress the memory of Crow, piloting his Divine Knight, protecting her and her siblings from what would've been a lethal attack.

“Someone who saves people,” is the answer she eventually bites out.

Like Lloyd and the SSS. Definitely not like Crow.

As always, the Ashen Saint doesn't visibly judge her for her response. He never does, even when she accidentally says stupid things.

She wonders if he's capable of judgement. Is this what a saint is meant to be?

“I won't say your answer is right or wrong. However, as many see it, the Azure Chevalier is a hero because he slew Cayenne and the imperial army won, ending the war. In another world, where the noble army wins, Cayenne would be the hero.”

“Are you saying that heroes are the ones who win wars?” 

“In the perspective of the empire’s general populace, yes.”

Juna narrows her eyes at him. He's so quick to distance himself from the discussion. “What about your perspective?”

“I don't have a perspective.”

“Come on. I'm having an existential crisis,” she whines. “Can't you help me out like the good teacher you're said to be?”

“You don't sound like you're having an existential crisis.”

“And you don't sound like you don't have a perspective.”

The Ashen Saint sighs, raising his hand to trace the edge of his mask. “Based on what little I know about so-called heroes, I suspect what makes them that way is how much they're willing to sacrifice.”

Juna considers the response with a small frown. Eventually, she asks, “Then, can someone with nothing to lose become a hero?”

The Ashen Saint is not the one who responds to her question.

“Eh, why would such a person want to become a hero in the first place?” 

Juna's gaze shoots toward the doorway. There, Crow stands, leaning against the door.

“H- How long were you standing there?!”

“Not long. Didn't hear one bit of you hating my guts and thinking I make everything miserable.”

So basically the whole conversation. Great. Well, it's not like she's spreading gossip about him, just her true feelings. It's his fault for eavesdropping.

“Then shoo! You're not part of the conversation!”

“I normally would, but…” For some reason, Crow misinterprets her obvious go-away gesture as an invitation to approach them. He now stands not too far from them and leans his hand against the table. “You’re having an interesting conversation with interesting perspectives. Consider me curious.”

Juna grumbles at him. “Don't complain when you realize not everyone thinks you deserve the glory you have.”

“Believe me, even I think I'm getting a little overrated,” he says, winking at her. She just stares back in disgust. “Won’t complain about all the ladies throwing themselves at m—”

The Ashen Saint stands up before he can finish his sentence. Without a word, he begins to walk away.

“Hey, where are you going?” Juna calls out as she stands. “Don't leave me alone with this jerk!”

“The topic has changed. My input is no longer relevant.”

“No need to make such a polite excuse, I'm already getting the impression that you don't like talking to me~” So he says, but even Juna can tell that Crow appears tense. Like he's raising his guard against an enemy he actually feels threatened by. “Are you like a certain student of ours? Do you hate my guts too?”

Something in the air shifts. A chill rises up Juna's spine. The edge of the Ashen Saint's mouth is curled, a ghost of a smile.

This is the most expressive she's ever seen him.

It's also… ominous.

“What gives you that impression, hero?”

The last word is said so mockingly, filled with vitriol. Juna has to blink and rub her eyes to make sure it's the Ashen Saint in front of her and not someone else.

“Well, you sure don't sound friendly to me.” Crow’s tone is also oddly out of character. He usually sounds so annoyingly carefree, but there's an edge of provocation behind his voice.

Is it just her or do these two really not like each other? She didn't get that impression when they first met the Ashen Saint on the first field study.

Again, the Ashen Saint delays his response. He simply stares in Crow’s direction before turning to leave.

“You're just going to ignore—”

“Consider it a test,” the Ashen Saint interrupts the other, cloak fluttering behind him as he opens the door. He spares one glance back toward Crow. “And you are failing it, Azure Chevalier.”

“Well maybe I don't wanna pass your dumb tests—”

The door shuts, the Ashen Saint gone behind it.

Crow clicks his tongue.

And Juna realizes it's awkward being alone in the same room as the guy she really hates, so she gathers her stuff and leaves. If she notices anything about the pensive expression Crow gets when he reaches into his pocket to flick a coin into the air, she ignores it. 

 

[Scene 3 - The Shadow You’re Expecting to Follow You]

For two years, Millium swears a ghost has been haunting her! She must be cursed or something, because this is her third time dealing with a ghost. THIRD. Unlike the first two times, when she asks the other members of Class VII if they’ve been experiencing the same thing she has, they shake their heads.

So it looks like this new ghost only wants to haunt her. What the heck, that’s so scary! Why her?

This ghost, however, is different. She can’t ever see it, she just… Sometimes when she turns her head, she gets a strange feeling that someone is beside her, but when she turns her head there’s no one there. This phenomenon-whatever has happened so many times in public and everyone around her tells her they never see anyone when she gets her weird feelings.

Jusis tells her she’s being paranoid. Millium can’t argue against that when she has no clue what paranoia feels.

Lechter, however, tells her something different. 

“It sounds like you might be subconsciously looking for something,” he says one day when they’re eating ice cream together. “Think of it like conditioning; with certain stimuli, you expect a certain response. For example, when some people train dogs, they use a clicker. When they click, the dog is expected to perform a trick so that it can get a treat. The clicker is then associated with reward. The stimulus is the clicker, the response is the trick, and the treat is to encourage the dog to keep doing the trick. Does that make sense?”

“Sooo does that mean I’m turning into a dog or something?”

Lechter laughs, but it’s not mocking. It’s just fond. “No. Conditioning doesn’t have to be trained. There’s so many stimuli in the world, people decide their response to certain stimuli, and if it happens often enough, their response becomes a subconscious habit.”

Millium tilts her head, still confused. “Then what’s my stimuli? What’s making me look around for something that isn’t there?” 

“Unfortunately, the only one who has the answer is yourself,” Lechter says, but that sharp look in his eyes betrays his ignorance. It’s that look that means he knows more than he lets on but isn’t going to say anything more. “The easiest way to find out is to find a pattern. What stimulus is always present when you get the feeling that there’s a ghost around?” 

It takes a while for Millium to figure it out. There’s so much of this stimulus in the world that she can’t tell which one is always there when she gets her weird feeling. It could be the air, the wind, the people, or Lammy!

Eventually, however, the pieces start clicking together.

The weird feeling always happens when she’s not alone. Always happens when talking with someone. Always happens when she talks to Jusis, Crow, Machias, Laura, Fie, Elliot, Gaius, Emma, Alisa, and Sara.  

It’s always Class VII.

…Wait a minute, does that mean they’re all ghosts or something?! Is that what Lechter was trying to get her to figure out?!

Okay hold on there— Millium can already hear Lechter telling her to slow down her thinking. Right. Don’t jump to conclusions just yet. She needs to think about why she’s looking for a ghost while she’s talking to them. Is it because they already had two ghost incidents together?

Ah! She’s tired of thinking! She can’t think like this! She needs to wash her face.

“CANNONBALL!”

She dives right into the river of Leeves, making a nice big splash. Ah… How refreshing.

She breaks the surface of the water and sees the pour soul she accidentally drenched with her stunt.

“I shouldn't even be surprised,” Crow sighs, already taking his coat off to squeeze the water out from it. “Shortstack.”

“Crow!” 

She jumps out of the water and barrels into him for a hug. He uses her momentum to let her spin around once and twice before setting her back down on her feet.

“Thanks, now I'm gonna need all my clothes to be dried now.”

Million just barks out a laugh. “Same!”

THUMP 

And the weird feeling hits her. Automatically, her head turns, eyes drifting left and right to find the ghost, the expectation, the whatever.

Oh. Wait… She's only now realizing that… This isn't the only time she does this. 

Sometimes she gets missions to observe certain targets, watching and reporting their every move. What she's doing now… feels like that.

Like there's a target who sticks close to Class VII that she's meant to observe. But… that can't be the case, can it? She was placed in Class VII to find out C’s secret identity. There was no one specific she had to keep an eye on…

̸ ̷ ̴ ̵ ̴ ̷̨̡̦̗̣̪̫̻̟̗̗̈́̍͗̀̊̕ ̴̠͌̎ ̶̠̗̭̗̻́͌ ̴̮̑͠  ̸̢͚̩̤͔̬̙́͆ ̵̶̶̡̭̣̖̳̦͚̔̃̇́̀̉͐̀͋͋̆͑̌͑͂  ̴̴ ̴ ̷ ̵ ̸

“Listen carefully, you have to protect him from himself.”

̵ ̶ ̸ ̸ ̷̢̨͎̭̩̫̤̳̱̠͉͖̙̤̫̱̑̋̄̈́̄͆͐̈́͌̃̈̒͒͆̾̋͌́̊͠͠ͅ   ̸̛͎̥̈̾̈́̽̂̓̇̓̈́̂̒͋̋̋͒̾̈͋̚̕͝ͅ ̵̢̨̧̤̤̹͎̤̹̻̘̮̝̠̝͖̠̠͔͈̩̞͈̀͂̓̔͘ ̸̡̛͚̖͙̣̘̪̽ ̴̳̩̖̲͉͕͈͙̗͊͗̀͋̿̐ͅ ̶̶̳̦͚͑̌͑͂  ̴̴ ̴ 

Her hand reaches up to clutch her head.

It… hurts…

Really bad. 

̵ ̶ ̸ ̸ ̷̢̨͎̭̩̫̤̳̱̠͉͖̙̤̫̱̑̋̄̈́̄͆͐̈́͌̃̈̒͒͆̾̋͌́̊͠͠ͅ   ̸̛͎̥̈̾̈́̽̂̓̇̓̈́̂̒͋̋̋͒̾̈͋̚̕͝ͅ ̵̢̨̧̤̤̹͎̤̹̻̘̮̝̠̝͖̠̠͔͈̩̞͈̀͂̓̔͘ ̸̡̛͚̖͙̣̘̪̽ ̴̳̩̖̲͉͕͈͙̗͊͗̀͋̿̐ͅ ̶̶̳̦͚͑̌͑͂  ̴̴ ̴ 

Why would he even want to kill himself anyway?

What was there to gain from death?

What even was death, really?

̸ ̷ ̴ ̵ ̴ ̷̨̡̦̗̣̪̫̻̟̗̗̈́̍͗̀̊̕ ̴̠͌̎ ̶̠̗̭̗̻́͌ ̴̮̑͠  ̸̢͚̩̤͔̬̙́͆ ̵̶̶̡̭̣̖̳̦͚̔̃̇́̀̉͐̀͋͋̆͑̌͑͂  ̴̴ ̴ ̷ ̵ ̸

Black spots dance and swim in her vision. 

“Shortstack?” 

̸ ̷ ̴ ̵ ̴ ̷̨̡̦̗̣̪̫̻̟̗̗̈́̍͗̀̊̕ ̴̠͌̎ ̶̠̗̭̗̻́͌ ̴̮̑͠  ̸̢͚̩̤͔̬̙́͆ ̵̶̶̡̭̣̖̳̦͚̔̃̇́̀̉͐̀͋͋̆͑̌͑͂  ̴̴ ̴ ̷ ̵ ̸

That was death.

An end.

Peace.

To never be able to play games with someone ever again.

̵ ̶ ̸ ̸ ̷̢̨͎̭̩̫̤̳̱̠͉͖̙̤̫̱̑̋̄̈́̄͆͐̈́͌̃̈̒͒͆̾̋͌́̊͠͠ͅ   ̸̛͎̥̈̾̈́̽̂̓̇̓̈́̂̒͋̋̋͒̾̈͋̚̕͝ͅ ̵̢̨̧̤̤̹͎̤̹̻̘̮̝̠̝͖̠̠͔͈̩̞͈̀͂̓̔͘ ̸̡̛͚̖͙̣̘̪̽ ̴̳̩̖̲͉͕͈͙̗͊͗̀͋̿̐ͅ ̶̶̳̦͚͑̌͑͂  ̴̴ ̴

“Hey, what’s going on?” 

There’s a shout. 

Her knees hit something hard. 

̸ ̷ ̴ ̵ ̴ ̷̨̡̦̗̣̪̫̻̟̗̗̈́̍͗̀̊̕ ̴̠͌̎ ̶̠̗̭̗̻́͌ ̴̮̑͠  ̸̢͚̩̤͔̬̙́͆ ̵̶̶̡̭̣̖̳̦͚̔̃̇́̀̉͐̀͋͋̆͑̌͑͂  ̴̴ ̴ ̷ ̵ ̸

Death… Goodbyes… 

It can be a scary thing.

̵ ̶ ̸ ̸ ̷̢̨͎̭̩̫̤̳̱̠͉͖̙̤̫̱̑̋̄̈́̄͆͐̈́͌̃̈̒͒͆̾̋͌́̊͠͠ͅ   ̸̛͎̥̈̾̈́̽̂̓̇̓̈́̂̒͋̋̋͒̾̈͋̚̕͝ͅ ̵̢̨̧̤̤̹͎̤̹̻̘̮̝̠̝͖̠̠͔͈̩̞͈̀͂̓̔͘ ̸̡̛͚̖͙̣̘̪̽ ̴̳̩̖̲͉͕͈͙̗͊͗̀͋̿̐ͅ ̶̶̳̦͚͑̌͑͂  ̴̴ ̴

“Mn…”

Suddenly, she’s lying in something soft. Her eyes open to see white blankets and bedsheets and curtains. How did she get here? Wasn’t she just talking to Crow?

“Sheesh, you scared me there, Shortstack.” 

Groggily, Millium turns to see Crow sitting by her bed with a magazine pinched between his fingers. She tilts her head then winces when it makes her head ache.

“What happened?”

“You passed out on me,” he says with a hint of concern as he tosses the magazine to a nearby table. His red eyes pierce through her. “Does that… happen to you frequently?” 

Millium remembers to not shake her head to keep the pain in her head away. She reaches over for a glass of water and gulps it down. 

“I don’t think so?” She flops back down into the bed and groans. “Mannn, first the ghosts and now the dizzy spells? Is there something wrong with me?” 

“Ghost? You mean the same thing Jusis thinks you’re paranoid about?”

“Yeah, that one, but Lechter thinks it’s something else. Something-something about conditioning and expecting something to happen when a different something happens first.”

“...What?”

His question flies over her head as her mind returns back to the whispers she heard before she fainted. She could’ve sword she heard Lechter and her own voice. But… She only vaguely remembers the conversation despite how heavy it made her feel.

It’s strange. She doesn’t think about death often, especially when it’s not a new sight to her. 

“Hey, did someone die recently?”

“No..? At least no one that I know. What’s with the change in topic?”

“I dunno, I just keep thinking about it a lot.” Her eyes blow wide open as she sits up in shock. “Wait, does that mean I’m going to die soon or something?!” 

Crow flicks her forehead. It calms her down. “Not—”

A voice interrupts him. “Not under my watch.” They look to where the door has slid open and sees Lechter standing there and flashing them a wink. “How are you doing, Millium?”

“Better!” She perks up and laughs when he rustles her hair. “Stop— haha! That tickles!”

“That’s what you get for giving me a scare.”

Crow snorts. “I see the Intelligence Division isn’t slacking today if you already got wind of what happened.” 

“Nahh,” Lechter shrugs. “Just happened to be around. Thought I’d visit the nation’s beloved hero while I’m here.” 

Millium can sense a tension build up in the air. It’s like angry sparks are shooting between the two men. For some reason, it sparks a question in her mind.

“Huh. Since Lechter’s called Scarecrow, does that mean you’re scared of him, Crow?”

“As if I’d be scared of this shifty-eyed punk,” Crow huffs as if offended before standing up. He turns and waves a lazy goodbye to them. “Anyway, I’ll see you later, Shortstack. And please tell your big bro to leave me alone, he’s working me to the bone here.”

“I’m standing right here, you know.”

“Whatever. Bye.” 

The door closes behind Crow, leaving Millium and Lechter alone. Lechter doesn’t waste a moment lowering his voice and getting that serious look back on his face. 

“So, did you figure out what your stimulus is?”

She tilts her head back, looking up to gather her thoughts. “I think it’s Class VII. I always feel like there’s a ghost when I’m around them!” Her face then scrunches up, her thoughts now making less sense. “Hey, did you ever give me a mission to look over anyone when I was in Class VII?”

Lechter stares at her blanking before a smirk blooms on his face. He rustles her hair again.

“Good job, Millium. You’re getting there.”

“Wait, so you DO know who my ghost is!”

“Nah, I got no clue. But, thanks to you, the picture of your ghost is getting a little clearer~”

“Oh, cool! You’re welcome!”

• Millium also stops by to see Altina. They hang out. She notes how Altina is more interactive with people than she remembers. She gives her a thumbs up, a big hug, and says how proud she is of her.
• Altina just short circuits and escapes the first chance she gets. 
• Ah, she loves being an older sister!

 

---

 

 

Chapter 73 -  Memories Manipulated; Memories Lost

Crossbell Field Study

• They visit Crossbell. 
• The Ashen Saint splits from the class, saying it’s Crow’s time to finally take over. Crow grumbles about it, not like he can do anything about it because that was the deal Aurelia struck to have the Ashen Saint help out.
• Altina tries to follow the Ashen Saint, but he tells her to stay put. He has a mission that he has to accomplish alone anyway.
• This doesn’t ease her anxiety but relents. 
• Crow notices how all the Crossbellians look at him with disdain. He copes, detaching his feelings by making stupid comments. Ah yes, he’s hated for doing a job he hates doing. He should get with the program like Rufus and revel in the darkness. 
• New Class VII visits Orchis Tower. 
• “Wow, this building is more impressive than I thought,” Crow comments absentmindedly.
• “Ah yes.” Juna glares at him. “This very impressive building you almost blew up. I'm glad it's still standing.”
• Yeah, he dug his grave on that one, huh? “Lay it on me any thicker, will ya?”
• They talk to Rufus, who tasks the group with investigating the cryptids.
• They run into Machias. They fight a cryptid together, saved by Alisa and Sharon.
• They return to training camp Then they run into Campanella who summons a cryptid, but are rescued by Emma and Celine.
• They go to Orchis Tower where they meet the members of the inspectorate and Elise.
• Musse talks to Elise and Alfin. Class VII already knew she used to attend St. Astraia
• Elise POV

 

There’s a darkness in Elise’s mind that won’t go away. At first, she thought she was overworking herself, so Princess Alfin forced her to get rest. No matter how much she rested, the darkness would stay. Her parents forced her to get checked up by a doctor, but they found nothing abnormal with her physical health. 

“Depression,” they concluded. 

Depression for no reason, she thinks. She has no reason to be sad. Happy, healthy friends and family, successful in school, confident in her own abilities, walking a path she believes in… She knows she’s not being hard on herself or anything. Really, there’s no reason to be sad compared to many others who are suffering. 

“Chemical imbalance,” they said. 

And so they gave her a pamphlet about what depression is, what it looks like, when to get help, and warning signs of suicide. They also offer her medications, but she declines, stating she can still go about her life without extra help.

Still, the education pamphlet they gave her looks awfully familiar. She already knows all the main points of each sheet of paper without reading them, as if she had studied them intensely before. 

It’s strange. She had never been diagnosed with depression before. How would she be so knowledgeable about the topic? And how is she so instinctively attuned to looking for signs of it in the people she passes by? Really, all it takes is one glance at Crow to notice that something is off about him. 

His carefree smile is nowhere close to touching his eyes, his humor is filled with self-depreciation, and his posture sags when he thinks no one is looking. Of course, given his situation, he has every reason to be unhappy. Still, that doesn’t stop Elise from being worried about him. 

When Alfin has everyone's attention, she uses this chance to nudge the man and gesture for them to speak privately in one of the rooms. It has a nice view all the way up here in the sky. 

“Are you okay, Crow?”

Such a simple question allows her to see a crack in his facade. 

“Yeees…” he says as he points her eyes away from her. He’s so obvious it’s unlike him. 

“Please be honest,” she sighs, suddenly feeling a rush of dread when she should be feeling patient instead. All of a sudden, it feels like her heart is being squeezed by an invisible clamp.

Why..? No, that’s the wrong question here. She’s felt this way before, but when?

“Eh, it’s okay,” he shrugs. “It’s not your problem.”

A sharp pain suddenly stabs through her mind and she can’t help but stumble. Her hands reach up to hold her head as she feels Crow grab her, making sure she doesn’t fall. This is…So oddly familiar.

Her pounding chest. 

The cold sweat rolling down her face.

Those four words. 

̸ ̷ ̴ ̵ ̴ ̷̨̡̦̗̣̪̫̻̟̗̗̈́̍͗̀̊̕ ̴̠͌̎ ̶̠̗̭̗̻́͌ ̴̮̑͠  ̸̢͚̩̤͔̬̙́͆ ̵̶̶̡̭̣̖̳̦͚̔̃̇́̀̉͐̀͋͋̆͑̌͑͂  ̴̴ ̴ ̷ ̵ ̸

“It's not my—?! Why wouldn't it be my problem?!”

̵ ̶ ̸ ̸ ̷̢̨͎̭̩̫̤̳̱̠͉͖̙̤̫̱̑̋̄̈́̄͆͐̈́͌̃̈̒͒͆̾̋͌́̊͠͠ͅ   ̸̛͎̥̈̾̈́̽̂̓̇̓̈́̂̒͋̋̋͒̾̈͋̚̕͝ͅ ̵̢̨̧̤̤̹͎̤̹̻̘̮̝̠̝͖̠̠͔͈̩̞͈̀͂̓̔͘ ̸̡̛͚̖͙̣̘̪̽ ̴̳̩̖̲͉͕͈͙̗͊͗̀͋̿̐ͅ ̶̶̳̦͚͑̌͑͂  ̴̴ ̴

She finds herself on her knees, heaving, coughing. Her throat is so raw. Did she say that? Did she scream that?

“Elise?!”

It turns out that they’re not alone anymore. Alfin is by her side, holding her trembling arms gently. The rest of New Class VII and the ones from Old Class VII stare at her in shock. She tries to control her short breathes, tries to look anywhere to help calm her down. Her eyes dart from her friends to the chairs to the plants to the windows and then to the—

The view from up here.

It’s too high.

̸ ̷ ̴ ̵ ̴ ̷̨̡̦̗̣̪̫̻̟̗̗̈́̍͗̀̊̕ ̴̠͌̎ ̶̠̗̭̗̻́͌ ̴̮̑͠  ̸̢͚̩̤͔̬̙́͆ ̵̶̶̡̭̣̖̳̦͚̔̃̇́̀̉͐̀͋͋̆͑̌͑͂  ̴̴ ̴ ̷ ̵ ̸

SQUEAK

̵ ̶ ̸ ̸ ̷̢̨͎̭̩̫̤̳̱̠͉͖̙̤̫̱̑̋̄̈́̄͆͐̈́͌̃̈̒͒͆̾̋͌́̊͠͠ͅ   ̸̛͎̥̈̾̈́̽̂̓̇̓̈́̂̒͋̋̋͒̾̈͋̚̕͝ͅ ̵̢̨̧̤̤̹͎̤̹̻̘̮̝̠̝͖̠̠͔͈̩̞͈̀͂̓̔͘ ̸̡̛͚̖͙̣̘̪̽ ̴̳̩̖̲͉͕͈͙̗͊͗̀͋̿̐ͅ ̶̶̳̦͚͑̌͑͂  ̴̴ ̴

That sound. It rings in her ears. It stings in her eyes. 

̸ ̷ ̴ ̵ ̴ ̷̨̡̦̗̣̪̫̻̟̗̗̈́̍͗̀̊̕ ̴̠͌̎ ̶̠̗̭̗̻́͌ ̴̮̑͠  ̸̢͚̩̤͔̬̙́͆ ̵̶̶̡̭̣̖̳̦͚̔̃̇́̀̉͐̀͋͋̆͑̌͑͂  ̴̴ ̴ ̷ ̵ ̸

SQUELCH

̵ ̶ ̸ ̸ ̷̢̨͎̭̩̫̤̳̱̠͉͖̙̤̫̱̑̋̄̈́̄͆͐̈́͌̃̈̒͒͆̾̋͌́̊͠͠ͅ   ̸̛͎̥̈̾̈́̽̂̓̇̓̈́̂̒͋̋̋͒̾̈͋̚̕͝ͅ ̵̢̨̧̤̤̹͎̤̹̻̘̮̝̠̝͖̠̠͔͈̩̞͈̀͂̓̔͘ ̸̡̛͚̖͙̣̘̪̽ ̴̳̩̖̲͉͕͈͙̗͊͗̀͋̿̐ͅ ̶̶̳̦͚͑̌͑͂  ̴̴ ̴

It sends a new wave of panic through her. What is wrong with her? Where are these sounds coming from? Why do they keep ringing— 

 ̷ ̴ ̵ ̴ ̷̨̡̦̗̣̪̫̻̟̗̗̈́̍͗̀̊̕ ̴̠͌̎ ̶̠̗̭̗̻́͌ ̴̮̑͠  ̸̢͚̩̤͔̬̙́͆ ̵̶̶̡̭̣̖̳̦͚̔̃̇́̀̉͐̀͋͋̆͑̌͑͂  ̴̴ ̴ ̷ ̵ ̸

SQUELCH

̵ ̶ ̸ ̸ ̷̢̨͎̭̩̫̤̳̱̠͉͖̙̤̫̱̑̋̄̈́̄͆͐̈́͌̃̈̒͒͆̾̋͌́̊͠͠ͅ   ̸̛͎̥̈̾̈́̽̂̓̇̓̈́̂̒͋̋̋͒̾̈͋̚̕͝ͅ ̵̢̨̧̤̤̹͎̤̹̻̘̮̝̠̝͖̠̠͔͈̩̞͈̀͂̓̔͘ ̸̡̛͚̖͙̣̘̪̽ ̴̳̩̖̲͉͕͈͙̗͊͗̀͋̿̐ͅ ̶̶̳̦͚͑̌͑͂  ̴̴ ̴

Keep repeating—

 ̷ ̴ ̵ ̴ ̷̨̡̦̗̣̪̫̻̟̗̗̈́̍͗̀̊̕ ̴̠͌̎ ̶̠̗̭̗̻́͌ ̴̮̑͠  ̸̢͚̩̤͔̬̙́͆ ̵̶̶̡̭̣̖̳̦͚̔̃̇́̀̉͐̀͋͋̆͑̌͑͂  ̴̴ ̴ ̷ ̵ ̸

“ Please..! Come back!”

̵ ̶ ̸ ̸ ̷̢̨͎̭̩̫̤̳̱̠͉͖̙̤̫̱̑̋̄̈́̄͆͐̈́͌̃̈̒͒͆̾̋͌́̊͠͠ͅ   ̸̛͎̥̈̾̈́̽̂̓̇̓̈́̂̒͋̋̋͒̾̈͋̚̕͝ͅ ̵̢̨̧̤̤̹͎̤̹̻̘̮̝̠̝͖̠̠͔͈̩̞͈̀͂̓̔͘ ̸̡̛͚̖͙̣̘̪̽ ̴̳̩̖̲͉͕͈͙̗͊͗̀͋̿̐ͅ ̶̶̳̦͚͑̌͑͂  ̴̴ ̴

“Hey, come back. Focus on my voice, Elise.”

She shuts her eyes and leans her head toward where the voice came from. Vaguely, very vaguely, she recognizes it as Machias’ voice. 

“There, now breathe. Take deep breaths.”

She— She can’t. Why is it so hard to do? 

“Hey, look at me.”

She shakes her head.

“Please, it’s only going to get worse if you don’t.”

Still panting, she opens her teary eyes to look at the inspector. 

“Good, now follow me. Inhale for 1… 2… 3… and then Exhale for 1… 2… 3…”

Even though she’s not perfect, she tries her best to follow the directions as they repeat. And repeat. It quiets the strange sounds that were in her head earlier. 

“Now unclench your fists. Relax your body.”

It brings her attention to how numb and tingly everything is. She can’t even feel her hands but she wills them open. 

“There, now keep relaxing. Keep breathing.” 

And she does. More easily now. She just lets herself breathe as time passes. It felt so fast, but looking at the clock, it looks like a half hour has passed. Everyone else has left the room except for her and Machias. 

“Think you can stand?”

Her legs are still tingly and shaky, but at least she can feel them again. Carefully, she stands up while grabbing his hand to pull herself up. On her feet, she’s a little wobbly, but she won’t fall over.

“Want to walk?”

With another slow exhale, they walk around the room (avoiding the window) in silence. The walk feels so slow, but when she looks up at the clock again, she sees that quarter hour has passed. Still, at least she’s calm now.

She finds the strength to speak again. “You’re surprisingly good at calming people down.” 

Machias huffs. “Well, I happen to work with a bunch of idiots who don’t know how to cope with their anxiety— Ah, don’t misunderstand that. You’re not an idiot for having a panic attack. It’s just the guys I work with are idiots because they just are.”

Elise lets out a chuckle. “Well, thank you. I feel better now.” She stops in her tracks. “I really don’t know—”

Machias is quick to cut her off. “Hey, you don’t need to talk about it. We don’t want to set you off on another panic attack. We’ll smack Crow for scaring you.”

“Well, that’s the thing. I don’t know what set it off. I was just talking to Crow about how he was doing, and then… I don’t know. I just got really scared all of a sudden.”

Machias considers her pensively. “Did Crow say anything that triggered you?”

“He just said that I shouldn’t be worried about him…”

Machias smacks his forehead with his palm. “Oh my Aidios, that idiot. Did he not learn his lesson?” 

Elise watches him stomp toward the exit, clearly his mood has soured. She follows him. 

—-

“I swear, I didn’t do anything!” Crow holds his hands up as the princess and Musse gang up on him. Juna joins him, probably taking every opportunity to judge him, while Altina, Kurt and Ash watch awkwardly from the side. 

Alfin jabs at his chest with an angry finger. “Well, something had to have happened. I’ve never seen Elise in that state before!”

Surprisingly, Alisa comes to his side. “For once, I’m on this birdbrain’s side. He may be a perverted, gambling-addicted, philanderer—”

“Hey.”

“—But he wouldn’t hurt a friend because of some selfish reason again.” Her sharp red eyes pierce through him before they soften. “At least, that’s what I want to believe.”

“Right,” he sighs, still feeling a weight of regret and guilt. “Never again.”

Alfin still sends him a mean frown.

“Now, now,” Emma smiles awkwardly, trying to lighten the tension in the room. “I also believe Crow did not mean any harm. How about before we make any judgement, we wait for Elise to tell us what happened?”

They end up waiting for about an hour until Machias and Elise meet up with them. 

“Crow, you son of a—”

Oh crap, that sounds like he really must’ve messed up, huh. Well, it’s not like he’s the most tactful when it comes to talking to people. 

With a few strides, Machias quickly crosses the room and grabs Crow’s collar. There’s pained anger behind those green eyes. 

“Look,” Machias sighs and everything about his expression, posture, and voice softens. He fist unclenches and lets go of his shirt. “I can’t imagine a single part of what it’s like to be in your position right now, but don’t think that just because we’re all busy with our own lives that you have to bottle everything up. We’re here for you. Did that fly over your head the first time we stopped you from killing yourself?”

What?

“Woah woah, hold on a minute there,” Crow exclaims, ignoring the murmurs of surprise coming from most of everyone else here. “I know I’m not sunshines and rainbows, but I never tried to kill myself.” 

“Huh? But, you did?” It is so, so bizarre hearing Emma say that to him with an honest, pitying look. Is he losing his fucking mind? “Back when we were students, you snuck into the Old Schoolhouse to…” She looks hesitantly to everyone not part of Old Class VII. “...end it all.”

He waits for a punchline to come from two of the most serious members of his old class. No, seriously. As someone who has thought about death quite a bit, he would know best if he actually went and did the deed! 

“I…” Alisa speaks up, looking at Machias and Emma like they’ve grown three heads. “I also don’t remember anything like that happening.”

“Thank you!” Crow breathes out a sigh of relief, grateful that he isn’t actually losing his mind. Yet. “See, you don’t have to worry about Ol’ Crow. Everything may be shitty right now, but I ain’t gonna kick the bucket just yet. I made a promise and I plan on being a man of my word this time.” 

Despite clearing his name, however, this only begs a bigger question.

“Then, why do Emma and I have different memories compared to you and Alisa?”

Crow shrugs. “Beats me. I ain't an expert on this stuff… Good thing we have a supernatural expert here.”

“This might be beyond even me… While magic-induced memory manipulation is possible, it’s either only temporary or vague. Also, anyone capable of casting a spell would be smart enough to make sure everyone who has memories of the event are all affected, or else what's the point?”

Yeah, who benefits from making some of his classmates think he committed suicide? And why not even bother manipulating his own memories and thinking he did the deed?

Does someone just want him to look insane? To look like he can't be trusted anymore?

Aw man, that would suck.

“Um… Speaking of memories that don't make sense,” Elisa speaks up, eyebrows furrowed in focus. “Sometimes I find myself wondering… How did I meet all of you?”

The question catches him so off guard because the answer is so simple.

“At our school?”

Elise presses on, a determined look now glimmering in her eyes. “But why did I go there in the first place? Princess Alfin didn't come with me and I personally had no reason to visit your school.”

“What do you mean?” Machias looks at her strangely. “You were there because you were looking for—”

Crow is able to witness the second everyone's face crumbles.

̸ ̷ ̴ ̵ ̴ ̷̨̡̦̗̣̪̫̻̟̗̗̈́̍͗̀̊̕ ̴̠͌̎ ̶̠̗̭̗̻́͌ ̴̮̑͠  ̸̢͚̩̤͔̬̙́͆ ̵̶̶̡̭̣̖̳̦͚̔̃̇́̀̉͐̀͋͋̆͑̌͑͂  ̴̴ ̴ ̷ ̵ ̸

“I wouldn't be surprised if you thought it was scary. It would be understandable if you leave now because you don’t like what you see.”

̵ ̶ ̸ ̸ ̷̢̨͎̭̩̫̤̳̱̠͉͖̙̤̫̱̑̋̄̈́̄͆͐̈́͌̃̈̒͒͆̾̋͌́̊͠͠ͅ   ̸̛͎̥̈̾̈́̽̂̓̇̓̈́̂̒͋̋̋͒̾̈͋̚̕͝ͅ ̵̢̨̧̤̤̹͎̤̹̻̘̮̝̠̝͖̠̠͔͈̩̞͈̀͂̓̔͘ ̸̡̛͚̖͙̣̘̪̽ ̴̳̩̖̲͉͕͈͙̗͊͗̀͋̿̐ͅ ̶̶̳̦͚͑̌͑͂  ̴̴ ̴

Crow blinks. He's not even surprised when he finds himself on the floor clutching his head. What does surprise him is when he sees Alisa, Machias, Emma, and Elise doing the same thing.

He had been suspicious when Millium passed out in front of him a few days ago. Now, it can't be some coincidence.

With one shared glance, they all collectively agree on one thing:

Something or someone is messing with their minds.

 

---

 

Chapter 74 - A Future of Nothing or Infinity

• They continue the inspection/patrol. 
• Crow notes that Altina is staring at him a bit more than usual.
• They reunite with the Ashen Saint
• Campanella and McBurn attack from the rooftop. Crow and the Ashen Saint hurry toward the scene, with Kurt, Juna, Altina, Musse and Ash chasing after. 
• The students fight Campanella while Crow reluctantly teams up with the Ashen Saint to fight McBurn

 

Crow still has a headache from testing out the weird memory thing with his old classmates earlier and being forced to fight the literal number one Ouroboros enforcer is not helping. He already doesn’t like his odds, especially when fighting with the Ashen Saint for the first time ever is bound to be an uncoordinated disaster. Despite technically being colleagues for almost a month, Crow still has absolutely zero read on the guy. 

His expectations are pleasantly surpassed, however, when he and the Ashen Saint don’t clash. Their ARCUS link stabilizes without issue and, for some reason, his heart thrums with playful energy. 

The Ashen Saint is able to adapt easily to Crow’s chaotic tendency to switch between his double sabre, his twin orbal guns, and casting arts. His battle sense is astute enough to guide McBurn into Crow’s attacks, his reflexes are keen enough to dodge and counter the attacks from ally and foe, and  he’s strong enough to keep McBurn’s attention focused on him while Crow is free to move between supporting him from the front-lines, mid-range, and long range. 

Crow has fought with powerful warriors in the past, fought with people more powerful than the Ashen Saint, but somehow their styles just slide in perfectly. They’re so in sync it’s crazy.

It’s also kinda creepy but it feels not-wrong. Yeah, Crow ain’t gonna admit that his match is an Ironblood, no thank you. 

It doesn’t take too long before McBurn bursts out laughing, a sign that he’s getting fired up and everything is going to get so much harder, but Crow isn’t even worried. 

He kinda… Also wants to keep on fighting like this. 

“Hahahaha— Wait a minute,” McBurn’s laughter stops. The growing ball of flames in his hand dissipates as he narrows his eyes at the Ashen Saint. “Aren’t you the kid, Kid? How the hell am I only recognizing you now?”

The Ashen Saint doesn’t say a word, only continuing to hold his long blade steady.

McBurn chuckles. “You in the silent treatment phase again, Kid? Brings me back to the good ol’ days when you kept trying to stab me.” 

What the hell kinda history do these two have? 

“But I guess whatever’s going on right now is bigger than last time, huh? No wonder Arianrhod is more rigid than usual. Maybe I should do her a favor and… help you out a little.”

Before Crow can even figure out what that means, the whole rooftop explodes, knocking everyone back. Even Campanella shouts in surprise, but Crow’s more focused on grabbing Juna, who almost falls off the edge of the roof. 

“Instructor!” Altina shouts. 

Bursting through the plumes of smoke are McBurn and the Ashen Saint, with the former tackling the other off of the fucking roof. Crow uses all his strength to hurl Juna up so he can summon Ordine—

But McBurn is a bastard and always will be. The two vanish in flames, teleported to a place no one has the time to figure out where when Campanella snaps his fingers and another giant robot appears out of nowhere.

• The others beat Campanella up (not really). Crow fights with the new Aion briefly, annoyed by how much stronger it is compared to the first one. 
• Afterwards, everyone shows up and Olivert asks about their motives. 
• Rufus reveals that SSS along with others are being blockaded within Mishelam.
• Campanella leaves with the Aion.
• Juna explodes with anger toward Ouroboros and Erebonia, targets Rufus and Crow.
• Juna rants to Rufus about destroying her home. Rufus points to Crow who nearly destroyed Orchis Tower— and the entirety of Crossbell. He also points to the Ashen Saint, who almost killed the leader of the SSS who she so dearly loves. 

—-

From all the way over at the Sun Fort, Lloyd can see a massive explosion shake the top of Orchis Tower. To say that doesn’t concern him at all would be a complete understatement; however, since KeA is here looking up to him for a source of comfort and determination, Lloyd doesn’t falter. 

He just shares an uneasy glance with Arios, one that probably isn’t even missed by KeA because she’s too sharp for her own good. 

To his credit, he doesn’t freeze at all when the ground begins to shake and flames erupt out of nowhere. He shields KeA with his body before darting to hide behind one of the pillars of the temple.

“Still silent, Kid? Not even spooked from that whole stunt I pulled?”

The smoke clears and reveals two people he’d prefer to stay a hundred selge away from KeA, but of course fate has them appearing quite literally at his doorstep. It’s just his luck but Lloyd has never been one to shy from whatever cards Aidios deals him, especially when the two men are full of mysteries he’d love to get some answers to. 

“Man, whatever,” Ouroboros’ no. 1 Enforcer shrugs. “At least I can test out my theory this time. If you let it all out, will you regain your memories?”

Implying that one or both of them are missing memories. Lloyd scrunches his eyebrows, deep in thought. Those without memories are more vulnerable to being manipulated. What are the chances that the organizations the two belong to are withholding information about their pasts from them? 

McBurn conjures up another flame and this one lights the whole place up. The temperature rises too high too quickly and Lloyd fiddles his ARCUS, ready to cast a defensive art on him and his companions. 

“Ah? McBurn? Apologies for interrupting your favorite pastime, but duty calls~”

That’s Campanella’s voice.

The flame extinguishes and all the light goes out, leaving only the stars to light up the night. McBurn groans.

“Are you kidding me? Couldn’t even let me have five minutes of a brawl?”

“Sorry~”

“I know you ain’t sorry. Ugh. Whatever.” McBurn turns and waves at his opponent. “See you around, Kid. Maybe next time we fight, you can bring that giant robot of yours, yeah?”

The two Enforcers disappear into the night. 

Lloyd dares to peek around the pillar and look at the Ashen Saint, standing there silently before letting out a sigh. He’s only given a moment before a blur flashes toward him. 

Sparks fly from two tachis clashing against each other. Arios uses his surprise attack advantage to knock the Ashen Saint back. Lloyd isn’t the best at analyzing battles compared to, per se, Randy, but it’s clear as day that the fight isn’t exactly fair. 

Not only is the Ashen Saint tired from his fight with McBurn but, compared to Arios, his swordsmanship isn’t as skilled or refined. Sure, he has more tricks, but Arios is fast and unwavering with his masterful techniques. It’s only inevitable when they clash one final time, and the Ashen Sain’t mask jostles.

It isn’t cut apart, but it falls and hits the ground. 

KeA cheers and Lloyd lets out a sigh of relief. 

“It’s strange, I thought I was aware of every direct disciple under Master Yun Ka Fai” Arios says, gracefully sheathing his blade. “Based on the way you fought, I can tell you’re one, yet I don’t recognize you at all. Who are you?”

The voice that leaves the Ashen Saint is more cutting, more arrogant than what Lloyd can compare to back when they met at the Geofront over a year ago. “Really, all this effort just to ask a meaningless question? Surely you have something better to ask.” 

The Ashen Saint turns around. The body language is different compared to a few moments ago; it's less straight and proper and more relaxed. Like they are no threat to him when he has just been defeated.

The bloodlust from earlier is also gone. 

Undeterred by the strange changes, Lloyd steps out from behind the pillar. He tries his hand at a question of his own. 

“What’s your goal here?”

For the first time since his arrival here, the Ashen Saint points his gaze at Lloyd. The most notable thing is how his irises are golden and his sclera are black. It’s ominous and not too far different from how McBurn looks when he gets serious. 

“The Great Twilight.” He says so bluntly, as if it’s no concern to him. “Though I’m sure you’ve already found that out, Ace Detective.”

“I’m flattered you think so highly of me.” Especially when Lloyd actually has no clue what that term means. He may be able to connect pieces of information and arrive at conclusions faster than an average person, but being on the run does not make it easy for him to get any information, much to his chagrin. “Is there any chance you’re willing to answer another question?”

“So polite,” the Ashen Saint snickers. It’s still bizarre to see such a change in personality in the person who almost killed him in cold blood before. “I suppose I’ll entertain you. You’ve done me a favor after all.” 

A favor? How? By attacking him? By getting the mask off of him? 

This man is full of mysteries. A theory swirls in his mind, but he doesn’t have enough evidence to feel confident in it. While he has a chance to ask another question, does he want to use it asking this?

Then again, what else can he ask? He has contacts who can tell him about what’s going on on the surface in Crossbell and Erebonia. He doesn’t have enough information about Ouroboros’ or Osborne’s grand designs to ask anything meaningful. Heck, he doesn’t even know how much the Ashen Saint knows about the two, so it might not be worthwhile to ask.

The best thing to do right now would be to determine…

“Where does your allegiance lie?”

“I would think that would be obvious since you know who I’m affiliated with.” 

Lloyd shakes his head, more confident the answer is not the one he wants them to believe. “I don’t believe the obvious answer is the truth, especially since you’re dodging the question.” 

Golden eyes squint at him. A mix of amusement and indifference swirl within them. So full of contradictions. 

“What will you do with my answer?” 

Lloyd takes a deep breath. “Depending on your answer, I was going to propose we do each other a favor.”

The Ashen Saint leans toward him, still interested. “Oh? And what can a few runaways like you offer me?”

Lloyd is interrupted before he can answer. 

“Don’t bother. It’s a rhetorical question. I know what all of you are capable of. There’s only one thing I want from you.” The Ashen Saint steps towards him but his focus is on… KeA. Lloyd holds his arm in front of her, not liking where this is headed. “I won’t do anything as stupid as take her away from you, Detective. I’m aware how far you’re willing to go to protect her. I only mean to ask a question, and only she can answer it.” 

That still doesn’t make Lloyd comfortable enough to lower his guard. KeA, however, looks at the man with innocent curiosity. 

The Ashen Saint huffs. “I know you still have vestiges of your power, even if they are mere embers now. Tell me, what do you see when you look at me?” 

As far as Lloyd knows, after the whole incident with the Azure Tree, KeA sees the world like everyone else now. Still, the two stare at each other, like they share an understanding of what it’s like to be touched by something beyond this world. 

“Do you mean…”

“I’m asking if you can see a future for me.” 

The Ashen Saint’s analysis on her access to her abilities somehow turns out to be correct, because KeA closes her eyes for a moment. Her face tightens in concentration. After a minute, KeA opens her eyes and her expression is full of… sorrow. 

“I’m sorry. At first, I thought I just lost all of my ability, but when I tried and looked at everyone else, I can see countless futures even if I can’t see the details. But, when I look at you, I see… Nothing.” 

The ensuing silence is heavy.

It's broken by humorless laughter.

“Hmph, I wonder if there’s even a point in trying anymore then.” The Ashen Saint mutters before picking up his mask. “Tell me, Detective. When there is no more hope, is it wrong to give up?” 

The Ashen Saint’s indifferent expression betrays none of his emotions, but the question is clearly personal. He has a goal different from the people he works with, and he’s on the edge of giving up. 

“I can’t say it’s wrong, but giving up wouldn’t do you any favors,” Lloyd says without hesitation, eyes burning bright with determination for the strange man in front of him. “I know we live in a world with magic, godly miracles, and concepts beyond our understanding, but I firmly believe that people control their own fate. We only lose control of our destiny when we give up.”

A snort is the only response he gets, and it doesn’t sound like he’s convinced.

“How about we change our perspective on this? KeA has seen many different possibilities for me, but it’s still limited. Since she sees nothing in you, doesn’t that mean you have the potential for anything?” 

Another deep laugh. 

“You have a way of inspiring others, Detective. No wonder many flock to you like a beacon of light.” His voice sounds… wistful. “I suppose I’ll return the favor. Tell me, what do you want from me? To send a message to your companions in Crossbell? Or would you prefer I tell you the perfect date to infiltrate Orchis Tower so you can gather all of Erebonia’s dark secrets?” 

“Wait, seriously?” Can they even trust him?

The Ashen Saint nods and keeps his word. After they’re done, he doesn’t waste time turning around to leave. With the information he let slip free from his mouth, there’s no point holding him here longer.

(Even though he gets a feeling the Ashen Saint could’ve left at any moment.)

“Another thing before I leave,” the Ashen Saint says before he leaves. “Don’t bother reaching out to me after this. I may not remember our little truce here and may end up showing you no mercy again. It’s not like I want to kill you, but some things can’t be helped sometimes.” 

And he’s gone from their sight.

Lloyd stares at the distance. Maybe he should’ve brought up his theory. It only sounds more plausible now…

 

---

 

Chapter 75 - The Ashen Knight

• Lechter visits the training area to give Crow another imperial government order. To "uncover the goals of society and restore order to Crossbell"
• Some mention their concern for the Ashen Saint, but Lechter waves their worries away. “Nah, don’t worry about it. I have no doubt that he’ll come back.”
• Machias, Emma and Alisa join and help him, as Emma is still looking for Vita, and Machias has already been given permission from the inspection team to go with him. Randy is emotional, and asks him to solve everything and figure out what's going on.
• Crow has a chat with the rest of New Class VII, skiing if they’re really going to leave Juna behind. They hesitate, and he then asks them to take care of her, as he wants her to come to terms with everything she's learned up until now on her own, and that by doing so, he hopes that she realizes what she needs to do, as both a member of the branch campus, and as someone who loves Crossbell. 
• New Class VII stays behind to encourage Juna.
• They go to Stargazer's Tower. Campanella and McBurn at the top of the tower. The latter, itching for a fight, holds back nothing and pushes the Thors alumni to their limits.
• That's when New Class VII and the Ashen Saint arrive and provide backup. Crow summons Ordine to defeat Ouroboros' Aion, but it’s still not enough. 

 

What a massive pain in the ass! This thing can fly, disabling any support he can get from his students’ soldats, can a shoot dozens of laser cannons at the same time, forcing Crow to play footsie with it instead of getting any opportunity to attack, and it has fucking camouflage.

Whoever designed this piece of crap can go kindly fuck themselves. 

He'd love to change strategy, but doing anything else right now would direct it's attacks to everyone down on the ground, who are practically defenseless against this thing.

The best that he can hope for is maybe the damn prince doing something crazy like ramming the Courageous into this thing— Oh crap—

Just his luck, the Aion disappears from his sight again and Crow is just a second too late detecting it this time because pain is suddenly clawed into his back and he's sent crashing back down to the tower. The ensuing crash definitely isn't helping his back.

“Instructor Crow!”

“Did anyone get hurt?”

“Only you, idiot!”

“Gee, thanks for the moral support, Macchiato!”

“Hey, can you two stop bickering?! It’s diving right toward us!”

Crow grits his teeth, seeing said thing speed toward them like a meteorite. Alright, get up or everyone dies here! Get up, get up—

“Heed my call…”

 

—THUMP—

 

And despite everything going on, his head turns, eyes darting, ears straining to locate the source of that voice— all senses focusing on the Ashen Saint.

 

 “...Valimar.”

.

 

.

.

 

Vali…  

̵ ̶ ̸ ̸ ̷ ̴ ̵ ̴ ̷̨̡̦̗̣̪̫̻̟̗̗̈́̍͗̀̊̕ ̴̠͌̎ ̶̠̗̭̗̻́͌ ̴̮̑͠  ̸̢͚̩̤͔̬̙́͆ ̵̡̭̣̖̔̃̇́̀̉͐̀͋͋̆ ̸͇̬́̐ ̷̨̩͈̣̰̞̤̫̺̯̹̮̱͓̠̇̈́̋͋̕ͅͅ  ̴̢̧̞̩̖͉͓̫̯̲̟̟͚̗̻̺̩̘̥̤̭̍̂̃͐̇̉́́͂͂̊̽̂̕͜͠  ̶̢̧̮͔̯͎͖̫̤̞͊̈́̿͑  ̷̡̢̛̯̝̖̖͚̤̮̖̱̻̬̌̔͑͊̓̓̅̾̐̂̎̍́́̒͊͋͗̈́͘͘̚͝͝   ̷̡̢̗̳͈͓̯̹͍̻̰̱̤̠̦͙̬̝̱̪̲̖͉̘̹̩͉̞̙̩͙̫̲̬̐͗̇̏́̔́̆̄̾̑͆͘͘͜ ̴̨̢̖̜͇̻̜̥̺̱͇̻̠̘̜͙͍̞̘̘̫̳̩͔̳̪͗́̀̿͆͌̈́́͋̎̑͑̐̒̈́̅͂̀̈́̍̒̕̚͠͠   ̷̢̨͎̭̩̫̤̳̱̠͉͖̙̤̫̱̑̋̄̈́̄͆͐̈́͌̃̈̒͒͆̾̋͌́̊͠͠ͅ   ̸̛͎̥̈̾̈́̽̂̓̇̓̈́̂̒͋̋̋͒̾̈͋̚̕͝ͅ  ̶̗̥̝̯̖̪̹̼̖̮͑̅͗̌͗̊̅̎͂̂  ̵̧̛͓̫͓̤̰̠̻̰̮̯͕̬͖͚͕̤͕̹̱͂͋̀̀̒͛͌̅̒̅̋̓̔̀͂̂̽̈́̋̍͗̈́́͒́̃̚͜͝ ̷̨̩͈̣̰̞̤̫̺̯̹̮̱͓̠̇̈́̋͋̕ͅͅ ̶̨̢̛̣̖̱͇̤̟̤̤̝̝̤̤̣͙͐̾͂̎͆͑͛͝͝ ̸̧̧̜̞͇̳͙̦̩̫̦͙̑͐̏̈̇̃̐̾̄͋͝͝ ̴̢͎̦̘̬̯̹̣̐͆ ̴̢̧̞̩̖͉͓̫̯̲̟̟͚̗̻̺̩̘̥̤̭̍̂̃͐̇̉́́͂͂̊̽̂̕͜͠  ̴̭̖͓̬̱͙̯̟͇̬̮̤̹̳̙̯̻͌̃͆͌͗̊̅͂̓͌̒̃̒̏  ̵̧̧̤̗͚͉̬̝͉̺̗͔͉͚͇̩̬͙̩̦̰͍̽̈́  ̵̢̨̧̤̤̹͎̤̹̻̘̮̝̠̝͖̠̠͔͈̩̞͈̀͂̓̔͘ ̸̡̛͚̖͙̣̘̪̽ ̴̳̩̖̲͉͕͈͙̗͊͗̀͋̿̐ͅ ̶̶̳̦͚͑̌͑͂  ̴̴ ̴ ̷ ̵ ̸                                                

— C    R   A   S    H —

                                     ̵ ̶ ̸ ̸ ̷ ̴ ̵ ̴ ̷̨̡̦̗̣̪̫̻̟̗̗̈́̍͗̀̊̕ ̴̠͌̎ ̶̠̗̭̗̻́͌ ̴̮̑͠  ̸̢͚̩̤͔̬̙́͆ ̵̡̭̣̖̔̃̇́̀̉͐̀͋͋̆ ̸͇̬́̐ ̷̨̩͈̣̰̞̤̫̺̯̹̮̱͓̠̇̈́̋͋̕ͅͅ  ̴̢̧̞̩̖͉͓̫̯̲̟̟͚̗̻̺̩̘̥̤̭̍̂̃͐̇̉́́͂͂̊̽̂̕͜͠  ̶̢̧̮͔̯͎͖̫̤̞͊̈́̿͑  ̷̡̢̛̯̝̖̖͚̤̮̖̱̻̬̌̔͑͊̓̓̅̾̐̂̎̍́́̒͊͋͗̈́͘͘̚͝͝   ̷̡̢̗̳͈͓̯̹͍̻̰̱̤̠̦͙̬̝̱̪̲̖͉̘̹̩͉̞̙̩͙̫̲̬̐͗̇̏́̔́̆̄̾̑͆͘͘͜ ̴̨̢̖̜͇̻̜̥̺̱͇̻̠̘̜͙͍̞̘̘̫̳̩͔̳̪͗́̀̿͆͌̈́́͋̎̑͑̐̒̈́̅͂̀̈́̍̒̕̚͠͠   ̷̢̨͎̭̩̫̤̳̱̠͉͖̙̤̫̱̑̋̄̈́̄͆͐̈́͌̃̈̒͒͆̾̋͌́̊͠͠ͅ   ̸̛͎̥̈̾̈́̽̂̓̇̓̈́̂̒͋̋̋͒̾̈͋̚̕͝ͅ  ̶̗̥̝̯̖̪̹̼̖̮͑̅͗̌͗̊̅̎͂̂  ̵̧̛͓̫͓̤̰̠̻̰̮̯͕̬͖͚͕̤͕̹̱͂͋̀̀̒͛͌̅̒̅̋̓̔̀͂̂̽̈́̋̍͗̈́́͒́̃̚͜͝ ̷̨̩͈̣̰̞̤̫̺̯̹̮̱͓̠̇̈́̋͋̕ͅͅ ̶̨̢̛̣̖̱͇̤̟̤̤̝̝̤̤̣͙͐̾͂̎͆͑͛͝͝ ̸̧̧̜̞͇̳͙̦̩̫̦͙̑͐̏̈̇̃̐̾̄͋͝͝ ̴̢͎̦̘̬̯̹̣̐͆ ̴̢̧̞̩̖͉͓̫̯̲̟̟͚̗̻̺̩̘̥̤̭̍̂̃͐̇̉́́͂͂̊̽̂̕͜͠  ̴̭̖͓̬̱͙̯̟͇̬̮̤̹̳̙̯̻͌̃͆͌͗̊̅͂̓͌̒̃̒̏  ̵̧̧̤̗͚͉̬̝͉̺̗͔͉͚͇̩̬͙̩̦̰͍̽̈́  ̵̢̨̧̤̤̹͎̤̹̻̘̮̝̠̝͖̠̠͔͈̩̞͈̀͂̓̔͘ ̸̡̛͚̖͙̣̘̪̽ ̴̳̩̖̲͉͕͈͙̗͊͗̀͋̿̐ͅ ̶̶̳̦͚͑̌͑͂  ̴̴ ̴ ̷  

…mar?

-—-C̷̢̢̺̙̘͔̤̭̥̥̪̦͙͚̹̬̼̠͕̺̣͎̖̣̙̰͙͎͕͎͕̻̒͛̑̋̃͊͒̽̓͌͑̽́̇́͐͛͐̌̒̇͂̀̏̕͠͝ͅR̶̡̧̛̫̖̖̟̹͔͈͇̟̥͈̣̠͓̞̘͇̹͚͑͒̅͌̓̈̐̌̎̈́̇̔̀̐̄̈̑̓̋͐̒͂̎͐͘Ą̶̢̡̛̛̹̹̭͕̺̮̂͊̆̿́͋̈̈́̊̓̀͊͊͂͑̽̏̇̈́͊͊̕͝S̴̘̹̣̩̈͂̿̾͋̒̿̇͌͐̆̔̂̕H̴̢̧̨̡̛̬͉̺͚̫͙͈͍͔̞̲͖̗̲͉̪͕͚̤̭͔̞̺͚̊̌͂̔̃̓̌̎͑́͋̽́̈̀̀͝͠ͅ—-

                       His head itches

-—C̵̛̛̹̃̊̂͐͐͌͒̓̇̎͆̒̅̅̎͝͝͝R̷̻̠͉̯̹͈̱͓̳͔̩̠̮̮͖̱͗̓̊͌͂̈̐́̓̌̆̋̏̏́̂̕̕͝͝A̴̢̲͉͎̠̯͓̪̣̟͉͇̝̘̣̲̘͙̔͊͑̃̊̿̆̐̈́̏̈̾̿̾̔͗̒͘͠ͅŞ̷̲͚͙̘̥̺̺̗͖̦̼̫̟͚̭̦̫̰̭̑͐̒͆̎͌͆̈́̈́̓̎̀͐̋̿̓̒̾͆͊̚͘̕H̶̛̛̛̫̮̤̬̗͈͚̫͈̠͆͑͐̾̈̉̏͌̀—-

                                           and his heart

—-C̴̖̟͈̤̬̽̃͛͆͛̀Ṛ̵̮̣̎͗A̸̳͆Ș̷͐H̸̛͓̞͉̮̑̊—

                           aches

—C̷R̴A̷S̵H̴—

                                  so

damn

 

 

 

bad

“Crow?”

“I’m alright, Ordine!”

He says, even when his knuckles are bruised and the bones may have fractured. It was the only alternative to bashing his head against the back of his seat to stop the itch, and it worked. 

He has no clue what the hell is going on with his mind, but his gut is on fire. Burning relentlessly, screaming at him to keep his focus or else something bad might happen

again

“Ashen Saint!” Crow yells. The slight tilt of Valimar’s head is enough to signal that he’s paying attention. “Take it back to the skies! I have an idea!”

• They beat up the Aion in the sky. It explodes. 
• Still, Crow can't hold it in anymore. He scrambles to leave Ordine and throws up on the floor

---

 

Chapter 76 - Compatibility ERROR Impossibility ERROR Inviolability

[Scene 1]

Valimar is keenly aware of the strained breaths coming from his Awakener. Covering his face with his hand, the Ashen Saint leans against his arm on the seat of the cockpit. His teeth are clenched, and the nails of his other hand dig into his chest.

He has never seen such distress from the man.

“Valimar… Why do you have secondary contracts with some of the individuals here?”

Valimar’s gaze sweeps across the top of Stargazer’s tower. The two eccentric Enforcers are about to warp away when a voice belonging to one recognized as the Azure Abyss appears. Judging by the familiarity between her and the Azure Chevalier, it can be deemed that there is no immediate threat anymore. He can focus solely on his mysterious Awakener.

“I do not know. These have been in place since you have awakened me.” 

What is also strange is that he can now clearly remember the profiles of each of the secondary contractors present. They all used to go to Thors Military Academy, part of a group known as Class VII. Alisa is the Reinford heiress, adept at using technology and nocking her arrows. Machias is the son of one of the prominent politicians in modern Erebonia and has a loud personality. Emma is the witch who helped guide E̷R̴R̸O̷R̸

Crow is the ex-terrorist and Azure Awakener, the one who was the closest partner to E̵̠͉̰͇̼͓̎̐͝Ŗ̸̛̝̮̩̫͕͑̓̈́͌̒R̶̨͔̗̬̭͔̬̒̿̓O̸̟͉̥͚̅̓R̴̬̗̞̙͗̾

“Please…” A pained grunt. “Erase them.” 

It’s a simple order and a simple action. Valimar completes the request without hesita—

—ERROR—

He tries again. 

—ERROR—

—ERROR— —ERROR—            —ERROR—

—ERROR—      —ERROR—

—ERROR—

It’s strange. Valimar should be in full control of his functions. This should not be possible. And yet…

—ERROR— —ERROR— —ERROR—

“It does not appear I have the ability to fulfill your request.”

His Awakener releases a shuddering breath before curling up into himself. “It hurts… How… Ngh… Valimar.”

“Yes?”

“Leave this place. Make space away from them. I need… to reset.” 

Valimar turns to follow the order, but something grips his arm before he can fly. Shifting his gaze, he sees Ordine holding him back. 

“And where do you think you’re going?” Crow says with a glare. “We have questions for you.” 

The Ashen Saint forces himself to sit up. His weak voice becomes steel. “Make it quick. I have somewhere to go.” 

Crow crosses his arms. “How long have you had a Divine Knight?” 

At his Awakener’s strained silence, Valimar decides to answer for him. “It has been approximately one year since I have been awakened.” 

Judging by the disappointed surprise on the Azure Chevalier’s face, it looks like he was expecting a different answer. “Only a year, huh? Wait a minute, how come you didn’t bother helping out when I fought the Aion at Saint Arkh?”

“You didn’t need it.” 

“Then a question for you, Valimar.” Uncertainty sparks in those usually confident crimson eyes. “Do you… remember fighting in the Civil War with us?” 

Valimar thinks back to his Awakener’s previous request. Erase them.

Even if it’s a lie, there’s only one acceptable answer.

“I do.”

However, he knows he can trust these humans. Perhaps, one day, they can help his Awakener if they aren’t cut off.

“Then, do you remember who your previous Awakener was?” 

There are no clear records in his database about another Awakener in recent history. If he digs deep enough, he only encounters strange encryptions and errors. However, based on what he now remembers of his former allies, based on everything he knows about his current Awakener, he can surmise a guess. 

“I don’t.”

The only reason he doesn't share his guess is because all memory of him has been erased, even from himself. There is a force beyond Valimar, and he will not be the one to tempt fate and potentially undo all the progress that has been made against this phenomenon. 

He refuses to forget again, especially when his Awakener is in such a precarious state. Even if it means watching. Waiting. For an opportunity to strike. 

Crow sighs and commands Ordine to let go of his arm. Without wasting another second, Valimar lifts off. 

 

[Scene 2]

When Valimar and the Ashen Saint disappear from their vision in the sky, Crow turns around to share a frown with his old friends. 

“That enough proof for you, Vita? There’s something messing with our memories.” 

“How fascinating.” Vita hides the bottom half of her face with her fan but her sharp eyes betray the fact that her mind is running a hundred selge per minute. “Whatever is happening is also affecting our memories differently. I don’t remember Valimar or any kind of Ashen Chevalier at all.”

Ashen Chevalier. Crow remembers back when he was on the train on the first day of school. Someone was spreading rumors about an Ashen Chevalier than no one heard of before. Whatever this is, it’s not only affecting them. It’s affecting everybody. 

“Still,” Vita continues. “I know my plan could only work with at least two Awakeners. I wouldn’t have bothered if you were the only one, Crow, and I know I bothered.” 

“Hold on!” Alisa exclaims. “If something is manipulating our memories, can we even trust what we remember? 

Emma steps forward, trying her best to not glare at her sister but failing. “I don’t believe so. If that was the case, we would notice more inconsistencies. However, we only get these strange headaches when it comes to two topics. The previous Ashen Awakener and…” 

“Someone who went to school with you,” Elise finishes. “Why I met you at Thors would make sense now if I was there visiting someone I knew.” 

Crow crosses his arms, growing more uncomfortable. Chills rattle his bones. “Then he’s the one Emma and Machias remember committing suicide.” 

“Well, if it’s any consolation…” Machias mutters, eyes stormy as he gazes into the distance. “I don’t remember this attempt having a bad ending…”

“Does it matter?” Vita chuckles, completely void of humor. “There’s only one way a Divine Knight can gain a new Awakener. That can only mean that the person missing from your memories…”

            ̵ ̴ ̷̨̡̦̗̣̪̫̻̟̗̗̈́̍͗̀̊̕ ̴̠͌̎ ̷̼̎ ̴͔͌̅ ̶̻͐ ̸̨͆ ̴̪̭͛ ̶̧̬̈́̾ ̵̪̄̉ ̴͙͛ ̴ ̴ ̵ ̷ ̷ ̷ ̶ ̶

̸ ̷ ̴ ̵ ̴ ̷̨̡̦̗̣̪̫̻̟̗̗̈́̍͗̀̊̕ ̴̠͌̎ ̶̠̗̭̗̻́͌ ̴̮̑͠  ̸̢͚̩̤͔̬̙́͆ ̵̶̶̡̭̣̖̳̦͚̔̃̇́̀̉͐̀͋͋̆͑̌͑͂  ̴̴ ̴ ̷ ̷̢̨͎̭̩̫̤̳̱̠͉͖̙̤̫̱̑̋̄̈́̄͆͐̈́͌̃̈̒͒͆̾̋͌́̊͠͠ͅ   ̸̛͎̥̈̾̈́̽̂̓̇̓̈́̂̒͋̋̋͒̾̈͋̚̕͝ͅ ̵̢̨̧̤̤̹͎̤̹̻̘̮̝̠̝͖̠̠͔͈̩̞͈̀͂̓̔͘ ̸̡̛͚̖͙̣̘̪̽ ̴̳̩̖̲͉͕͈͙̗͊͗̀͋̿̐ͅ ̶̶̳̦͚͑̌͑͂  ̵ ̸

“I love you all… so… so much…”

̵ ̶ ̸ ̸ ̷̢̨͎̭̩̫̤̳̱̠͉͖̙̤̫̱̑̋̄̈́̄͆͐̈́͌̃̈̒͒͆̾̋͌́̊͠͠ͅ   ̸̛͎̥̈̾̈́̽̂̓̇̓̈́̂̒͋̋̋͒̾̈͋̚̕͝ͅ  ̷̨̡̦̗̣̪̫̻̟̗̗̈́̍͗̀̊̕ ̴̠͌̎ ̶̠̗̭̗̻́͌ ̴̮̑͠  ̸̢͚̩̤͔̬̙́͆ ̵̶̶̡̭̣̖̳̦͚̔̃̇́̀̉͐̀͋͋̆͑̌͑͂  ̴̴ ̴ ̷ ̷̢̨͎̭̩̫̤̳̱̠͉͖̙̤̫̱̑̋̄̈́̄͆͐̈́͌̃̈̒͒͆̾̋͌́̊͠͠ͅ   ̵̢̨̧̤̤̹͎̤̹̻̘̮̝̠̝͖̠̠͔͈̩̞͈̀͂̓̔͘ ̸̡̛͚̖͙̣̘̪̽ ̴̳̩̖̲͉͕͈͙̗͊͗̀͋̿̐ͅ ̶̶̳̦͚͑̌͑͂  ̴̴ ̴

 ̴͔͌̅ ̶̻͐ ̸̨͆ ̴̪̭͛ ̶̧̬̈́̾ ̵̪̄̉ ̴͙͛ ̴ ̴ ̵ ̷ ̷ ̷ ̶̴ ̵ ̴ ̷̨̡̦̗̣̪̫̻̟̗̗̈́̍͗̀̊̕ ̴̠͌̎ ̷̼̎ ̶       

“...is dead.” 

 

---

“The mind forgets, but the heart will always remember. And what is the heart's memory but love itself?”

― Twan Eng Tan, The Gift of Rain

Notes:

Writing at the speed of light because my plan is to finish this by Aprilllll. That sounds crazy to me, but sometimes you just gotta shoot for the stars and you'll end up… well, somewhere. (the downside is that my revisions/edits are poor quality, so lemme know if something doesn't make sense in a bad way).

But bruh. I'M LITERALLY ALMOST THERE but then this (another 10,000 words appearing out of a 1000 word bullet point list) happens. So now... CSIII will be getting *four* parts... sigh. I really didn’t think I needed to dedicate a part to each field study, but here we are. Whatever, I had fun and I hope you guys enjoy the extra immersion lol.

Fun fact, I had my first panic attack like half a year ago. It’s crazy looking back at how I wrote them years ago but fascinating nonetheless.

Thanks for reading and take care~

Chapter 34: CSIII - Part Three

Notes:

There should be a warning but if you got this far, you can probably deal with it... >_>

“Destiny. To believe that a life is meant for a single purpose, one must also believe in a common fate. Father to daughter, brother to sister, mother to child. Blood ties can be as unyielding as they are eternal. But it is our bonds of choice that truly light the road we travel. Love versus hatred. Loyalty against betrayal. A person's true destiny can only be revealed at the end of his journey, and the story I have to tell is far from over.”

― Emily Thorne

 

---

 

Chapter 77 - Laplace’s Demon 

[Scene - Musse]

People are like chess pieces, except Musse can't fully control their moves, she can only see their paths. With enough information about their character and their backgrounds, they are predictable. 

Musse would consider herself perhaps a little bit above average when it comes to seeing where people will move. Her dear uncle was perhaps the easiest; anyone could see him preparing the Civil War from a mile away.

Even Giliath Osborne, to an extent, is predictable. While his motives are unclear, he doesn't bother hiding his policies from the public: Rule with a blood and iron first, expand Erebonia’s power and land. Based on that, the Jurai, Crossbell, and North Ambria’s invasions were no surprise. The only thing that surprised her was that he let himself get shot.

That all made sense when he came back from the dead and most of the military power from the nobles were taken away. 

Crow Armbrust is another example of unpredictability. She had met him before, making deals with her late uncle in the shadows. Those crimson eyes had been drowning in hatred; those who pledge themselves to revenge are the most predictable. Yet, he never took his shot.

Instead, he aimed it at his employer.

Despite getting close to the man as one of his students, Musse could not figure out the answer. Unlike Rufus, Crow has no loyalty to the Chancellor. He doesn't even hide his disgust while fulfilling his missions.

After the revelation that the members of Old Class VII are having big gaps in their memory, Musse can hedge a guess. At the very least, she can trust that he can become her ally in the future.

Or… Maybe not. She still doesn't know why he had to kill her uncle. Why he deserved his mercilessness instead of the Chancellor, who took his home away. She doesn't bear any hatred for the man. In the position he placed himself in, her uncle was fated for ruin. If not Crow, someone else would have taken him down.

However, if Crow is the type to kill for justice, would he end up killing her if she is forced to go to her last resort?

Still, if it means bringing Chancellor Osborne down, she doesn't mind being sacrificed.

She's not scared 

Not at all

But, in terms of all the other pieces on this chessboard, Musse has a clear idea which side each piece will take. And, she doesn't like her odds. If only there was another variable…

“What's your deal here?”

Musse hides herself behind the corner. She had thought she was the only one occupying the dormitory at this hour, seeing how everyone else is at their after school activity. Musse had excused herself, saying she wasn't feeling well. 

The instructors are also usually at the school, grading papers or developing the next assignment. But, it sounds like Instructor Randolph is here. As well as…

“I don't know what you're talking about.”

The Ashen Saint.

“That ain't gonna work on me this time,” Instructor Randolph hissed. A peak around the corner reveals that he's blocking the other from the only exit. “The notes you gave to me and Juna… They were from Lloyd, weren't they?”

“...”

“I don't get it. You tried to kill him, didn't you? Why are you helping us out?”

“I don't know what you're talking about. I have no reason to give aid to a fugitive. Perhaps you have me confused for someone else.”

“Who the heck else can I confuse you with? Your appearance is kinda hard to mistake!”

“Is it really?”

“Uh, yeah?” Instructor Randolph shakes his head. “Don't try to change the conversation.”

“I don't know what else to say. If what you say is true and I'm somehow helping the enemy… Then that means…”

His arm snaps up to grip his head, as if in pain. Then, slowly and smoothly, his hand drifts down, fingers tracing the edge of his mask. His hand then moves even lower and hovers over his neck.

“...I must perish.”

“Woah, woah! No need to go that far!” Instructor Randolph holds his hands up in surrender. “Nevermind, maybe I really did get the wrong person…”

He doesn't sound convinced, but he breathes a sigh of relief when the Ashen Saint nods.

“Sheesh, your loyalty to Osborne is scary.”

“Perhaps.”

Sensing a tense silence settle over the two with no hope of being lifted, Musse slips away from her hiding spot and leaves the dormitory. Her chin rests in her fist, deep in thought.

Not too long ago, she had been curious about the Ashen Saint, uncertain of where his goals aligned. However, when it was revealed that he was an Ironblood, she had to place him firmly in the “enemy” category.

However, the more she thinks about her strange instructor, the more of an anomaly he becomes.

What is the purpose of sending an Ironblood and an Intelligence Division Operative to this school? As respected as Aurelia is, there's no way the likes of Chancellor Osborne would accept her request unless there's a purpose. 

All she knows is that it can't be anything beneficial for Musse and her allies.

Or… so she thought. Lately, she has been hearing stories about an inconsistency in his behavior. One moment, his personality is thin enough to be blown over by a gust of wind; the next moment, warnings and condescension are thinly veiled behind his words. 

Now, based on the conversation she just listened to, it seems like there is a clash between his loyalty to Chancellor Osborne and a rogue action to help a fugitive. Despite his denial, Musse does not doubt Instructor Randolph’s keen senses. He would not lie about who gave him that message, nor would he be deceived.

There is something strange going on with this man, making Musse’s predictions of his future too erratic. Since he has been revealed to be in possession of a Divine Knight, it would be foolish of her to overlook him.

So, she makes a plan.

“Oi, don't drag me into your shenanigans.”

Musse claps cheerfully, sending an innocent smile toward Ash. He's another one of the unpredictable ones, but he, too, is resistant to her charms. She may not be able to sway him, but she can at least involve him as much as possible so that he is more likely to choose their side in the future.

The power of bonds can be wonderful, but they can also be a shackle.

“No worries, Ash. I promise this will pique your interest.” Her eyes settle over the others in the classroom: Juna, Kurt, and Altina. “I've called you all here to talk about our lovely instructor~”

Juna groans into her desk. “I think we've heard enough from you gushing over Instructor Crow.”

While she's still incredibly interested by his and his friends’ inconsistent memories, she unfortunately does have to focus on her priorities. She can't do anything about what they're going through, but maybe she can do something about the Ashen Saint.

“Actually, I'm here to talk about our homeroom instructor.”

Altina tilts her head, now curious. Now suspicious. “About what?”

Musse tips her hat. “Removing his mask.”

Immediately, she's met with varying reactions. The quirk in Ash’s brow says that he's listening. Altina’s narrowed eyes betrays her distrust. The way Kurt leans away means that he's cautious. And Juna is…

“Didn't we agree to respect his privacy?”

Ash retorts before Musse can. “Someone's oddly defensive of the guy she was spewing curses at after learning he attempted to murder her favorite celebrity.”

“W- Well…”

How much Juna is willing to reveal will help her convince the class, assuming Altina keeps her lips sealed. Musse pushes on the assault. “I heard from the grapevine that a certain Ironblood delivered you a message from Erebonia’s number one fugitive~”

Kurt now leans in with interest while Ash is hooked on the story. Altina remains silent.

“Spill it, Wild Filly.”

Juna crosses her arms with a huff. “You guys don't look like you'll do any good with the truth.”

“Oh my, Juna. What makes you say that? Don't I have the looks of an angel?”

“Hearing you say that sends creepy chills up my spine!” she hisses before letting out a defeated sigh. “Look, Lloyd told me to be careful around him despite him doing us a favor, so I'm going to make sure that I—and all of us—are careful!”

“Or what?” Ash snorts. “He's gonna get mad at us? Like that's possible.”

“I've seen him angry before,” Juna mutters. “At Instructor Crow.”

“That guy pisses everyone off.”

“Still! He attempted murder of an innocent person before, I'm not going to give him a reason to try again!”

“I still think that story is bullshit.”

“The SSS don't lie—”

A loud clap rings through the air, silencing their argument. Musse smirks into her fist. 

“Good, I'm glad that we can all agree that it feels like our instructor has two sides to him because that brings me to two of my theories: He’s either possessed by a demon or he has two personalities~”

Her two rowdiest classmates gawk at her.

“Oi, you read too much fiction—”

“Yeah, is that even a real thing—”

“I can see that being a possibility,” Kurt says for the first time in this conversation. “I once asked him about a time we met in the past and he denied having any recollection of it. If your hypothesis is correct, it can explain the holes in his memory.”

Altina nods. “You're correct.”

“Wait, what?”

Musse has to agree with Juna's sentiment. Wait what, indeed. She did not expect Altina to be so forthcoming with information, especially seeing how protective she is of the instructor.

The protectiveness is still clear in the way she regards them with a guarded expression. The whole class just stares at her in silence while she takes a minute to figure out what to say next. “You all are my friends… correct? And friends… don’t betray one another, correct?”  

Junaa nods furiously. “Of course!”

“You don’t even need to ask,” Kurt says.

Musse can’t bring herself to say anything while Ash’s scoff in the background is ignored. 

Altina continues to stare down at the table until her frown lifts into a neutral expression. “Please do not tell anyone about what I’m about to say. As far as I’m aware, no one else knows this, not even the Instructor himself.” 

She then takes a deep breath. “Musse is correct about him having two personalities, but your implications about which behaviors belong to which personality is incorrect. Juna, the Instructor we see most of the time is more likely to kill in cold blood, while the other one may speak in a harsh manner but the other one has promised to not spill a drop of innocent blood.” 

“So, if we piss him off now, he’s more likely to kill us?” Ash huffs. 

“Incorrect. He will only resort to that if it’s for a mission. His loyalty to Chancellor Osborne is unbreakable,” Altina says. “However, his other half appears to be against the chancellor. He is certainly the one behind helping Lloyd Bannings out.” 

Pensively, Musse taps her chin with her fingers. While she is no expert on the subject of multiple personalities, to have two with polar opposite goals seems to be extremely counterintuitive to his being as a whole. It’s impressive that no one else has figured it out, though perhaps it’s due to his alter being so careful until his interaction with Lloyd. 

“I’m curious,” Musse tilts her head at the girl. “Which personality do you support, Altina?”

“I will always support the Instructor.” It’s an expected answer, especially since she is also part of the intelligence division. “However, the Instructor has not been himself for a while now. Since his other personality has promised to bring the original one back, then I will prioritize supporting the other personality until the original regains his sense of self.” 

“Wait, wait— Hold on a minute!” Juna accidentally hits the table with her hand in surprise. “There’s another personality?” 

“I'm not allowed to explain the details, but no. It's complicated.”

Clearly. If she’s following this conversation correctly, then Altina is implying that the Ashen Saint’s current persona is a facade. Since Altina wants to bring the original one back, that can only mean some external force is holding back his true identity. 

“If the Instructor's old self is restored, would he continue to stand by Chancellor Osborne’s side?” Kurt asks, on the same line of thought as Musse.

“Uncertain. However, there are various factors that would lead me to believe he would stand against the chancellor.”

Which is exactly what Musse has been hoping for. If both his true and alternate personality don’t support Giliath Osborne, then he could become an ally. Having another Divine Knight working against the chancellor could help turn the tides in the future. 

Musse clasps her hands together. “Well, Altina, would you mind if we lend you our support in restoring our dear instructor’s old self?” 

“Hold on a moment,” Kurt says, eyes narrowed in doubt. “I know you can’t explain the details, but what about the current instructor? I don’t know what restoring the original one back entails, but what would happen to the current identity? Would he just be erased? Would that… be okay to do?” 

Altina frowns once again, her eyes returning to stare at a scratch on her desk. “Let me clarify. When I say I want to restore the old Instructor, I mean I want to restore his memories. I imagine he will remember everything he has done while he’s like this, so if he regains his memories… It would be up to him to choose who he wants to be from then on. That’s why my mission is to make sure that, when he wakes up, he does not become paralyzed with too much guilt.” 

There’s a beat of silence.

“Oops,” she eventually says nonchalantly. “Pretend I said nothing about a mission.” 

“Kind of too late for that,” Juna exhales awkwardly before leaning back in her chair. “Amnesia, huh? Now I’m getting really curious about who he is now.” 

“Missing memories and having a history of standing against Chancellor Osborne while now having unwavering loyalty to the man implies that he’s being taken advantage of.” Kurt points out. “It does not sit well with me. Altina, if you’re willing to accept help for your mission, then you have my aid.” 

“...Yes. I would like all your help.” 

Exactly. Although… Missing memories… Hm. What are the chances that’s relevant to a certain other group that is experiencing missing memories? Ah, Musse shall place that idea on the backburner for now. 

“Then, are we all in favor of finding out the truth behind our mysterious Instructor?”

Altina and Kurt nod their heads. Juna takes a moment before pumping her fist in agreement. Ash is the last to make any kind of response before sighing and saying, “Whatever.”

“Great!” Musse flashes all of them her signature innocent smile. “Then, Altina, another question for you. If we take off his mask, then would his alternate personality surface?” 

“I have never seen him without his mask, but I am familiar with the technology behind the mask. It is likely that your theory is correct.” 

“Then let’s try it!” Juna exclaims while standing from her seat..

“We’ll need a plan first,” Kurt says. “Despite how passive our Instructor can be, he is ridiculously sharp with his senses. It won’t be easy to take it off by force.”

“True, but that’s why I have already come up with multiple plans that have a non-zero chance of working,” Musse beams at them. “I call it Operation: Post Speciem.”

Ash groans. “You put way too much thought into this.” 

 

[Plan A]

“Plan A is to accidentally walk in on the Instructor while he’s taking a shower,” Musse announces. “And I volunteer myself to be the poor soul who might accidentally gaze upon his naked flesh while looking for his face~” 

It’s a joke of course, but she enjoys watching her classmates roll their eyes. 

Juna facepalms. “You sure don’t sound too agonized about volunteering yourself.” 

Altina’s stare burns deep judgemental holes into Musse’s skull. “I thought the mission was to remove the mask, not to wait until he removes it himself— because he doesn’t.”

“Seriously? Not even when taking a damn shower?” Ash sneers. “Is the damn thing glued to him or something?” 

“While I have never seen him while he showers, I’ve seen his other personality relax in a hot spring before. The mask stayed on.”

“Maybe it’s stuck if the other personality doesn’t bother to take it off,” Kurt offers. “I don’t imagine it benefits the alter to keep it on.” 

“Or maybe the alter is self-conscious of his face and doesn’t want to show it to anyone, not even to Altina. That doesn’t mean he doesn’t take it off in private,” Musse shrugs. 

…

When Musse does walk in on the Ashen Saint in the bathroom, it truthfully is an accident. She had kept enough tabs on the man to know that he preferred to take his showers at night, so she wasn’t going to bother with the plan until night.

So, on a free day, Musse walks straight to the shower in the afternoon… only to realize that it’s occupied the moment she steps foot in the bathroom. Only to realize a split moment later that the shower is just now being turned on and it’s the Ashen Saint standing directly below the shower head. 

And wow, he really does wear a mask in the shower.

And double wow, he has a lean, muscular build hidden beneath his cloak.

And triple wow, that’s a lot of scars. The one at the center of his back though is the most prominent one. She can’t imagine it was easy to survive with a wound like that.

And quadruple wow, Musse takes a step backward and shuts the door in front of her. She may act like she has no human decency and she will do whatever it takes to achieve her goals, but she truthfully doesn’t want to cause any more suffering or disrespect than necessary. She isn’t going to fight him while he’s naked to take it off. 

 

[Plan B]

“Okay, next plan is that we all ask him for a spar. New Class VII vs the Instructor. Hopefully, with our combined efforts, we can knock the mask off, right?”

Ash and Kurt are the first ones to agree with the plan. Juna reluctantly joins in a few minutes later, obviously still thinking about the fight between the Ashen Saint and Lloyd Bannings in the past. Altina stares at them with no faith in the plan, but agrees to give them her full support.

Ah, the power of friendship. 

The tough part is getting the Instructor to agree to spar with them.

“No,” he says, even when the whole class is basically begging him. Even Altina tries her best with the puppy-dog eyes skill Musse taught her, but he still refuses.

Ah, well… To Plan C:

Ambush him.

Musse would like to say that they held their ground for a solid five minutes before getting completely swept by his swift and strong techniques. He broke through their formation easily and took out her and Altina first so that the rest wouldn’t be able to last much longer without their support. Naturally, their pathetic defeat riled up Juna, Ash, and Kurt to challenge the Ashen Saint again, but the rematch ended no better than the first. 

Alright, so brute force isn’t going to work. Specifically, New Class VII’s brute force won’t work. However, they didn’t have to do this alone.

 

[Plan D]

“How about we get Instructor Crow to assist next time?”

Though, it was currently difficult to get in touch with the man. He seems to have been taking frequent trips out of campus, undoubtedly to get to the bottom of Old Class VII’s missing memories. 

Surprisingly, Altina is the first to respond with a firm shake of her head. “No. I don’t want those two to fight.” 

“Why not?” Juna asks, asking the question surely in the heads of everyone else.

“I can’t explain my reasoning, but if you are insistent in making the two fight, then I no longer want to be a part of this operation.”

“Are you against getting only Armbrust’s help? How about we ask Orlando or the demon principal?”

“No. Any clash between the faculty will certainly result in gathering attention. I am okay with revealing the Instructor’s secret to you four, but I cannot say the same for anyone else.” 

“Okay then,” Musse decides, hiding a bit of her disappointment. Like she said before, friends are shackles. She doesn’t want to push past their boundaries for this. Not yet. “There’s always another plan.”

 

[Plan E]

This time, the plan is to instigate a food fight in the cafeteria and make sure some food is sent hurtling toward the Ashen Saint’s direction. Surely he would have to take off the mask if there’s food on it. Of course, it takes a while to actually initiate. No one is exactly comfortable with just randomly throwing food at some random person. Well, no one except Ash.

Ash throws some cheese at Juna’s face, who then throws cake in his direction. Ash dodges, and it hits some poor student in the back and— Food is now being thrown everywhere. Musse ignores the pickles that land on her head  and throws a tomato at her Instructor.

She is not surprised when he dodges the attack. She is not surprised when he dodges several more calculated attacks along with some stray food flung from the other side of the room. 

By the time Instructor Michael enters the cafeteria and ends the food fight, the Ashen Saint is still untouched by food. The plan has failed. And now their whole class is being lectured by Instructor Michael.

The words mostly fly over Musse’s head. Compared to the inevitable war coming, the reprimands today sound so insignificant. If she survives in the future, she’s likely to look back on this memory with fondness. 

By the time he’s done scolding them, he tells the Ashen Saint to bring them to their homeroom classroom for detention. They follow their instructor with varying expressions of frustration and focus. 

When seated, Musse leans her cheek against the palm of her head and stares out the window, deep in thought. The idea of detention doesn’t bother her, she can simply use the time to come up with a new plan.

What to do next…

“He’s not an idiot, you know.” 

Her head snaps up to the source of the voice, seeing the Ashen Saint lean against the chalkboard with his arms crossed. His voice is a little more gruff, tone full of mockery. Is this..?

“Even I can tell what you’re all up to, and I’m not even aware of much when I’m in the backseat.”

Bingo. Perhaps they failed in removing the mask, but at least they got him to reveal himself to them. 

“I’m sorry,” Altina mutters, lowering her head in guilt. 

“No need to waste your breath on an apology. While I didn’t expect this from you, I’ve learned to not underestimate those who become desperate to help the ones they care about,” he scoffs as his gaze shifts to the rest of the class. “I don’t know why you bothered to involve these irrelevant fools though.” 

“Irrelevant fools..?” Juna mutters, offended. Suddenly, she stands up and points angrily at him. “Hey, who the heck do you think you are to talk to us like that?” 

“I meant what I said. You’re irrelevant to my history and situation. You’re foolish enough to get into my business.” 

“We’re just trying to help—”

“Help what? Help me? Don’t be ridiculous. You have no power to do so. And, even if you did have the power, why would you bother?” Even though his eyes are shadowed behind the mask, Musse can feel his gaze shift toward her, burning through her. “Perhaps you plan to use me for an inevitable conflict coming in the future? Oh please, I tire of being used as a pawn.” 

Musse scrambles for a response, but Ash retorts first. “Big talk coming from someone who isn’t even in control of his own body most of the time.”

That gets a humorless chuckle to rise from the man. “Bold words coming from someone who is fated to give Erebonia an excuse to declare war on the whole world.”

“The hell—”

“Tell me, the pain in your eye has only been getting worse, hasn’t it? Of course it has, the curse has only grown more thick around you since I first saw you.” A devious smirk grows on the Ashen Saint’s face when Ash protests again. “Don’t believe me? Here, I’ll show you the strings wrapped around you like a mere puppet.”

He raises his hand and—

SNAP

The sound echoes in the air. A grunt of pain escapes from Ash a moment later as he stumbles forward into his desk, hand reaching up to cover his eye. Everyone stares at their classmate in shock, not really sure what just happened. Not really sure what the Ashen Saint is talking about. 

“What did you do to him?” Kurt recovers first, now standing up from his seat. His posture is guarded, ready to brandish his swords against his perceived threat at any moment. 

“It’s just a taste of what destiny has coming for him. I’m sure you’ve seen the prince exhibit similar symptoms.”

To Kurt’s credit, he doesn’t flinch at the mention of his former liege. “You mentioned a curse and you imply that you have control over it. Does that make you our enemy?” 

“It should.” But the Ashen Saint just shrugs. “If I can’t escape the chains of fate, then I will be your enemy. If else, who knows. Free will makes the future unpredictable.”

“You want to escape your fate?”

“I don’t need to explain myself to you."

Musse bites her lip. He’s impressive. In the span of a couple of minutes, this man has completely dominated the conversation and shut it down, and it’s so bizarre to hear from someone who is usually so quiet. It’s so easy for him to overwhelm them because he understands the future better than she does—a rarity—and because he can read her and Ash like a book, undoubtedly the two most secretive amongst the class. 

Still, the challenge in getting information from this foul-mouthed man ignites a tiny spark in her. She refuses to walk away from this conversation empty handed, especially since they spent so much time trying to get this opportunity in the first place. 

“Unpredictability doesn’t exist,” she starts with. She’s aware of the confused glances from her classmates, but all that matters is the intrigued hum coming from their instructor. “All our actions are predictable responses to our environment based on our experiences.” 

“Hmph, it’s clear now what lens you use to view the world. I’m sure it must have been easy for you to get everything you want, knowing what to do to cause the effect you desire.”

Musse stops herself from letting out a nervous laugh. “Oh my, if that were true, then I would have you all wrapped around my finger already~ Still, predictions are rooted in the past and present. If you’re so confident in your predictions, then you should know what to change in the present in order to change the future.”

“You speak the truth,” the Ashen Saint says. Embarrassingly, Musse feels a little pride for the praise. “However, certain events in the future are set in stone. Erebonia’s fate has already been written in a list of cause and effects, like a fairy tale. No matter how much free will you believe you have, I don’t have faith that you all will be immune to the effects, which is why your help is pointless.”

“Look,” Juna speaks up, impatient. “I don’t follow this philosophical mumbo-jumbo well, but you can’t just assume to know what we’ll do in the future and assume we’ll be useless because of something that hasn’t even happened!”

“Oh really? If I pay a baker to make me a cake in a week, knowing that he’s going to die the next morning, then I would feel like I wasted my time and money when he does die the next morning. It’s the same for you all, especially when…” He lifts his hand and points a finger toward Ash. “...You will rot in prison after a certain assassination attempt.” There are gasps and Musse's thoughts whirl, but now his finger points to her. “You will commit suicide, following the millions of lives you’ll sacrifice.”

The small gun strapped to her thigh, hidden under her skirt, suddenly feels too cold. He knows way more about the situation than she could ever hope to imagine. Perhaps she shouldn’t be surprised because he works with the Intelligence Division, but to even hold classified information that only a trusted few know about? Does that mean there’s a leak in her close circle or does that mean his ability to infer causality is on another level because he has more information than her?

As someone who calculates everyone’s paths the moment she meets them, it is so strange being the one so accurately predicted right now. She doesn’t like this feeling of… She doesn’t even know the word to describe the heaviness weighing down on her.

Yet, he continues, now pointing at Juna. “You will drown in despair.” Lastly, he points at Kurt before letting his arm hang from his side. “While you will lose your way. Anything any four of you can do to help me only lies in the future, a future which will break all of you. Therefore, involving myself with you all will only induce needless effort and suffering.”

How frustrating… to be reduced to a mere variable in this man’s vision. How frustrating… that Musse has viewed everyone else the same way until now. 

“Like I said,” Juna bites back, undeterred by his confident predictions of an uncertain future. “Just because your predictions have a good chance of happening doesn’t mean that they will. People are more than just predictions!”

“What an optimistic take. I see you wear a certain Detective’s ideals on your sleeve.” He sighs, “You’re lucky. I’ve become quite fond of such optimism lately. How about I give you all a chance to prove that you can surpass my predictions?”

“A chance?” Kurt repeats after the Ashen Saint trails off in silence. 

His masked eyes lock onto Ash. “Truthfully, it all depends on you alone. If you choose not to murder anyone, then I will allow you all to help me if that is what you continue to desire. It should be easy, right? Crow Armbrust managed to defy predictions and fate, so you should be able to, too. It’s not like you’ve been cursed with this fate since you became a survivor or anything.” 

“Shut up! You’re just saying some crazy bullshit!” Ash growls, still clutching his eye. 

The Ashen Saint ignores him and addresses the whole class again. “Of course, you’re all free to believe nothing I just said. I’m just some delusional alter ego watching history be made from the sidelines. Still, my condition still stands. Crazy prediction or not, as long as he doesn’t murder a certain someone, then I’ll give you all a chance to save me.” 

“Who the heck would want to save someone like you, dipshit?”

“Projecting, are we? Still, you’re right. Why are the rest of your classmates bothering to help someone like me?”

His tone drifts off with a mixture of defeat and spite. For the first time since this other personality spoke, Musse finally sees a glimpse of the truth behind his biting words and opinions. 

Juna is the one who responds without an ounce of hesitation. “Because Altina asked us to help you. I won’t let a friend down! You also… helped Lloyd out too, so I refuse to let you down either, Instructor.”

Kurt speaks up next with a firm nod. “You and your other personality have helped us a lot. Despite whatever ulterior motives either of you have, it’s only right to return the favor.”

Musse wishes she could say something as heartfelt as them. However, it’s crystal clear to her that this version of the Ashen Saint will only value honesty. To detect any lie or her usual teasing will only result in his distrust. “I just want to know who you are,” she says, her usual polite smile dropped for a serious expression. “I want to know if you can be a trusted ally in the future.” 

They turn to Ash who unsurprisingly clicks his tongue and stands up. He starts walking toward the exit. “Nah, I want no part of this crazy bullshit. I’ll do whatever I want, and my priority… Is not this.” 

“Hey, get back here!” Juna jumps out of her seat and chases after him. “Did you forget we’re still in detention?!”

The doors close behind them.

The Ashen Saint snorts in amusement. “I see he won’t make things easy for you all.” 

Indeed. However, the Ashen Saint himself is surprisingly making things easy for them. Musse hasn’t noticed this before, too occupied with being so blatantly seen through, but he has spilled crumbs of essential information throughout their whole conversation. If what he says is true, then she can piece together that Ash is a catalyst that will bring about an incoming war, meaning that his target can only be a select few, very influential individuals. For it to be a world war, then he would need some sort of connection with another sovereign nation. If monitored, Ash can be prevented from assassinating anyone. 

However, if assassination is truly his end goal, then Ash has no reason to stick around people who know about it. Then again, being in Old Class VII and having Instructor Crow who has many connections gives them access to speak to certain key figures that no one else would have a chance to. His smartest move would be to stick with the class until he finds an opportunity. 

“I forgot to mention this, but it’s my expectation that all information stated here stays only within Old Class VII,” the Ashen Saint says, breaking her out of her thoughts. “Consider it my final test to you all.”

“Final test?” Kurt asks. “Are you implying that the events in your predictions are soon to come true?”

“No, you still have some time left. I mean that I—or, my other half—will no longer be your instructor soon.” 

“What?” Altina frowns at him. “How come I wasn’t informed of this?” 

“It’s another prediction. Before the next field study, I predict that the Ashen Saint will retire from his position here for personal reasons.” 

“Personal reasons?” She sounds doubtful. 

“We’ll talk about it later, Altina.” His gaze sweeps over Musse and Kurt before walking toward the exit. “Alone.” 

He leaves the room, closing the door behind him. 

Musse lets out a deep sigh of relief. “Oh my, Altina. Our Instructor’s other personality is more intense than I expected. Perhaps it’s because I still don’t know enough about him, but I still can’t figure out if I can trust his words.” 

Altina takes a moment to mull over her words. “He may be brutally honest, but he never lies… At least, around me.” She turns to narrow her eyes at her. “Which makes me concerned about his comment about you having a plan to commit suicide in the near future.” 

Trying her best to keep her muscles relaxed, Musse flashes them a smile that doesn’t betray her nerve. “I don’t know what you’re talking about. Just like how I’m unable to predict his moves, he may not be accurate with predicting mine.” 

Kurt deadpans at her, crossing his arms. “While the whole point of our new assignment is to prove his predictions wrong, his predictions for you and Ash were oddly specific. Ash’s behavior makes it obvious that there’s some truth in his words, despite how I never considered him the type to turn to assassination. You, on the other hand… Well, you’re a crafty one, Musse. After playing chess with you, I know you think many steps ahead while also reserving dozens of backup plans for the right opportunity. In a war setting that the Ashen Saint implies will happen, I can’t say I would be surprised. Especially knowing your background.” 

“Aw,” Musse pouts at him. “Are you saying I’m predictable too?” 

“No. I would have never predicted that possibility. It’s just, the idea of it isn’t surprising.” Kurt’s voice softens, looking at her as if she’s just a fragile flower. “So, if his prediction of you is true and you do have a scheme up your sleeve, I just want to remind you that we have your back. We vowed as a class that we don’t fight alone. If worse comes to worst, we don’t die alone either.” 

Musse’s smile trembles. “Hehe, don’t make promises you can’t keep, Mr. Might-Lose-My-Way in the future.”

“I’ve lost my once already, but I found it because of this class. If it happens again, I’m sure I’ll find it again as long as I have you guys.” 

Altina deadpans at him. “Sappy.” Yet, there’s a slight smile on her face. “I do agree with Kurt though. I don’t want you to feel like you’re alone, Musse.” 

Her fingers twitch. An odd warmth spreads through her center.

She doesn’t want to think about it right now.

Musse clasps her hands together. “Why thank you, but that’s enough about me~ If we want to maintain class solidarity, then it’s best to focus on Ash first, considering he’s our ticket to finding out the truth behind our instructor’s identity.” And possibly gaining his assistance in return. “After that, we shall see which side the war favors to even consider a hypothetical last resort, yes?”

Perhaps it’s because the way she thinks is too similar to the Ashen Saint’s alternate personality, but she doesn’t have much faith in the idea of overriding causality, especially when it seems like there’s a supernatural force also involved. 

Still, when she sees her classmates’ concerned looks, she can’t deny that the Ashen Saint’s very act of spilling all this information to them might determine an effect different from his predictions. 

 

---

 

Chapter 78 - Phantom Traces

[Scene 1 - Investigation]

Basically, Crow being fed up with the hole in his memory. He calls up everyone in Old Class VII and tries to piece together the gaps in their memories to get a picture of what exactly is missing. 

Crow notices that they have memories of Crow doing certain things that he has definitely never done. While it appears that someone is mixed up with an action they never did, it seems that Crow is confused for it the most. Probably because he was the last to join the class, therefore this memory curse or whatever has an easier time filling the gaps with him. 

 

[Scene 2 - Trista]

He visits Trista and tries to find some clues. It’s impossible though since all traces of the alumni have been replaced by the new cohort of students. 

He stumbles into Cedric and remembers his apprehension around the fake Vermillion Knight during the first Einhel Keep trial. 

He had said he had no reason to be traumatized back then, but maybe… His head hurts again. The sharp sound of metal piercing through metal rings in his ears again. 

 

[Scene 3 - Vermillion Knight]

Crow returns to Leeves and asks Schmidt to let him fight the model of the Vermillion Knight again. 

Trama™

Crow doesn’t defeat it since the sole purpose is to trigger his buried memories. He stumbles, collapses, and passes out a few times. 

Towa barges in, forcing Schmidt to end the trial and yelling at Crow for being an idiot.

Crow shrugs it off. “I’m sick of not knowing the truth. If this is the best way of finding out, then so be it.” 

“I’m sorry, but the best way to find out the truth is definitely not by reliving a traumatizing experience over and over again! Do you know what happens when the mind is repeatedly exposed to trauma? You’ll shut down!”

Crow clicks his tongue. Towa just drags him out of the keep.

 

[Scene 4 - Older Brother] 

Crow and Towa have dinner with George, who’s visiting. They see Elise and Patrick who also happen to be visiting. 

Everytime Patrick kisses Elise’s hand, he always feels like his impending doom is swiftly approaching.

“Serious, am I the only one that feels this?!”

“Patty-Cakes, are you sick or something? I don’t feel anything and my senses are sharper than yours.”

Altina walks up to Patrick and asks why Crow calls him Patty-Cakes? “Does that mean you have pancakes?”

“E- Erm, no I don’t have pancakes.”

Altina continues to stare at him flatly. “Disappointment,” she mutters. 

Patrick feels the shiver again.

The Ashen Saint walks up to them, focusing on Altina. “Altina, I’ll make pancakes for you at the dorm, if you want.”

“If I want?”

“If you want.”

“Okay, I want.”

They leave. 

Crow leans back, crossing his arms behind his head. “If I didn’t know Altina wasn’t a homunculus and sisters with Millium, I would’ve assumed that they were siblings.”

“I wonder what it’s like to have a sibling,” Elise comments offhandedly. 

“As someone who has two older brothers, I can say with certainty that it’s not worth it,” Patrick huffs. “Wouldn’t trade them for anything though.” 

Crow remembers a conversation he had with Patrick a few months ago. 

“Didn’t you confuse me for Elise’s brother a couple of months ago?” 

“Huh? Oh… Right, I did…”

A glass of water falls against the table and spills. They look to Elise who stares at them in mortification.

Another piece clicks.

 

[Scene 5 - Ymir] 

Crow and Elise go to Ymir. 

They hunt through her house for any evidence of an older brother figure. The parents are as oblivious as they are. Elise reveals that they might have a missing family member. 

They note that their family photos only have the three Schwarzers,

Eventually, they find an empty room. This whole time, they’ve been ignoring it. They don’t know why they never repurposed the room for something more useful. They all have a bad feeling sink into their gut when they look at the room though. 

They tell Crow to sleep over since it’s late at night. He sleeps in a guest room. He wakes up in the middle of the night due to another nightmare. He walks outside for some fresh air. 

He’s hit with another wave of nostalgia. He remembers on Class VII’s first trip here, he explored through the valley in the middle of night. He doesn’t remember why, but he has no problem retracing his steps. He eventually reaches an area where he can see marks of orbal bullets on the trees. 

His gut feeling tells him he didn’t come out here before just for some target practice. He feels like something important happened here. 

Later that day when everyone is awake, he asks to see the cemetery. If the missing person in their memories is dead, then he might have a grave… Fat chance of him finding it since he doesn’t even know what name he’s looking for. 

The investigation ends with nothing new. All the graves are accounted for, all with histories that don’t match what they know for sure of their memory-erased guy. 

He considers checking out the cemetery at Heimdallr but decides to touch base with the rest of Old Class VII first. That cemetery is considerably larger than the one in Ymir, maybe he can get some help first. 

 

[Scene 6 - Return]

Crow returns to Leeves back in time for the next field study. 

He’s suddenly swamped with more work than he expected when it’s revealed that the Ashen Saint has quit. 

It doesn’t help that there’s some weird tension going on between the whole class, though most of it seems to be centering around Ash. Oh boy…

---

 

Chapter 79 - How to Not Murder Someone 101

“So… Instructor Crow…” Juna nervously stands in front of him, wringing out her hands behind her. “Let’s say I had a really, really deep urge to kill someone. Like, I can’t stop thinking about it. And no matter the consequences, I want to do it anyway. How do you like… Not decide to kill that someone?” 

In a world with giant robots, witches and magic, and a phenomenon that can wipe a person's entire existence from memory, Crow really shouldn’t be surprised by anything anymore. Nope, he still dares to stare at her, absolutely baffled. Really, Juna—of all people—asking him advice about how to not do an assassination attempt? 

“What the hell kinda question is that?” 

“Well, considering you were able to not shoot the target of all your hatred before despite all the other terrible stuff you were willing to do, I figured you’d have good advice.

“Should I be concerned?” Crow leans away from her. “Are you finally contemplating my murder?”

“What? No! I already told you that I’m willing to look past your mistakes.” Juna not so subtly glances toward Ash. Kurt covers his face with a hand as he turns away from the scene. “I just… Um… Asking for a friend.”

Ash groans loudly from his seat while Musse chuckles. Only Altina seems to be acting non-suspiciously, though she looks more lost in thought than usual. 

Really, what the hell have these kids been up to while he was gone? He also heard that they caused a massive food fight and collectively ended up in detention. Is this Crow’s influence? Has he unknowingly turned them all into delinquents?

“Okay… Well, if you really want to know, it helped that I knew the guy I wanted to kill wasn’t actually able to die if I shot him. Realizing that everything I was doing was for nothing is also pretty damn convincing.” 

Musse tilts her head at him. “How did you know he was incapable of dying?”

“Elliot told me.” Which, now that he thinks about it, makes no sense at all. This is also probably connected to whatever’s messing with his memory. That means the missing person from their memories must’ve had ties to Osborne to be able to know such a well-kept secret. 

Juna just looks at him with a face that spells she’s thinking too hard. “What if he was capable of dying? Would you have shot him then?” 

“Probably,” he shrugs. “Hatred is hard to smother. Heck, I still want to kill him even now.”

“Ugh, you’re not that helpful!”

“Should I be sorry?”

• New Class VII arrives at Ordis to do their requests. While doing so, they run into a group of jaegers of an unidentified corps. Jusis and Millium pop in and assist them. 
• They chase the jaegers down to Languedoc Valley. Turns out two different jaeger corp (Nidhoggr) are beating each other up, so they end up beating everyone up. 
• Sara and Angelica swing by to help them out. 

 

• That night, Crow, Sara and Angelica head to Raquel to further investigate the jaegers' actions when they happen to run into Claire. 
• There’s some random guy out that wants Crow to step on him lol
• They discover that Rutger Claussell, Xeno and Leonidas are playing games in the casino. 
• They beat the jaegers in Vantage Master. (Crow definitely cheats). They reveal that the purple jaegers are actually remnants of North Ambria's Northern Jaegers.

 

• Next morning, Jusis reveals that Millium is MIA. They deduce that Millium has gone to Bryonia Island.
• The boats get destroyed by some ocean monsters. New Class VII just stares at Ash. 
• “Oh look, Ash. We’re stuck on an island in the middle of nowhere. It’d sure be nice if we knew how to fish~”
• “Oh, shut up.” 
• They enter the Sol Shrine. They find Millium trapped by the Stahlritter as well as another Aion. Arianrhod appears to assist her knights. Gaius then appears to assist his old classmates. 
• Crow, Jusis, and Gaius recognize her. They remember how she saved their butts when they were students, during their field study at Lohengrin Castle. They all have a collective headache again, but they’re surprised to see Arianrhod also reaching up to soothe her head. 
• Battle ends with Arianrhod leaving. 

 

• The next morning, Ouroboros and the Northern Jaegers attack the Juno Naval Fortress. Crow gets orders to stop them. Old Class VII and New Class VII join him. 
• Aion Type-Beta II, the Stahlritter and Arianrhod await them on top of the fortress. 
• They don’t win, but Arianrhod decides to retreat when they manage to destroy the Aion. They help take care of the aftermath. 

 

• With the end of the field study, Thors Branch Campus leaves. Except, Crow decides to go investigate all the cemeteries he can find.

 

Crow tells them of his plan. “I’m sick of waiting. I’m gonna get to the bottom of this.”

“But how? If we can’t remember anything about this person, where do we even begin looking?” Millium asks. 

“The graveyard. According to Vita, he's dead. If we’re lucky, he should be buried.”

“Oh, now that you mention it… I vaguely remember attending a funeral after the war,” Gaius admits. “But I thought it was for everyone who died during the war…”

“Oh yeah…” Sara affirms.

How crazy is it that Crow has no recollection of any funeral after the war. That’s it. He must’ve struck gold. 

“Where do you remember the funeral happening?”

Jusis is the one who answers. “Heimdallr.”

“Alright, I’m going.”

They contact the rest of the class. They all agree and decide to reunite as a class at Heimdallr. 

---

 

Chapter 80 - The Hero No One Knows

The reunion with Class VII after being separated for so long isn’t as happy as they all wanted it. Even Millium looks uncharacteristically solemn. All too focused and filled with dread on getting to the bottom of the mystery of Valimar’s first Awakener, they exchange hasty greetings before searching around in Heimdallr’s cemetery.

But really, how does one find the right grave of someone they don’t even remember? They can narrow it down to graves that don’t have any gifts on it, assuming no one else remembers this mysterious person, but that only eliminates a few dozen graves. There’s still too many to look over, and even if one looks suspect enough, no one’s willing to dig up a grave they’re not 100% certain belongs to someone else. 

Eventually, hours pass. The sun beats heavily down on him, making him dizzy. Crow’s too stubborn to stop, but he doesn’t want any of his friends passing out from heatstroke, so he pulls out his ARCUS to tell everyone to take a break.

However, when he pulls out his device, the dumb 50 mira coin he stole from the Ashen Saint falls out of his pocket. Really, why does he bother with this thing anymore? He hates the guy’s guts and being 50 mira poorer isn’t going to ruin his life. 

Despite making up his mind, his eyes watch the coin roll and roll until it hits some random headstone. A quick glance over reveals that it has no flowers or gifts around it. Sure, let Crow’s pocket change be his contribution to this random person’s—

It has no name on it. There are a few other headstones without a name, weathered away by time, but this one appears too new. The date inscribed on the grave hasn't faded at all and it reveals that it’s only been there for two years since this person died. And, based on the date of birth, this person would be around their age…

Crow returns his burning gaze back to the 50 mira coin. This is stupid.

He pockets the change and makes a call to the Round of Seven. 

“Guys, come look at this.”

Everyone arrives at his location within minutes. 

“That is suspicious,” Jusis mutters, crossing his arms. “Why would the grave of an eighteen year-old have no name on it? If they wished to not be remembered, then why even bother having a headstone?”

Gaius crouches down and touches the inscriptions of the grave with his fingers. “This is becoming less of a coincidence and more like someone trying to hide this person’s identity… And I don’t think it’s by any natural cause.”

“What makes you think that?” Elliot asks.

“At first, it was a gut feeling, but now that I’m touching this grave, I can feel an engraving where the name is, but I can’t make any sense of it. It’s like some external force is blocking my mind from understanding what’s said here.” 

“No way!” Millium shouts in awe before jumping next to him and tracing her fingers across the headstone. “Oh my gosh, you’re right! I can feel something but I can’t see or tell what it says!”

Crow bites his lip. It makes sense now why there’s no record or picture of this person anywhere. He’s not an expert on any of this supernatural BS, but he wouldn’t be surprised if every record of this person was just unable to be perceived, just like the name on this grave. 

“I guess it’s safe to say that we’ve struck gold, huh?”

“Let’s at least consult with the cemetery manager first before we start digging up the grave,” Alisa says. “I’d really not want to go through this and end up desecrating some poor family’s child.”

And so they do. At first, the cemetery manager regards them with suspicion, stating that he knows there’s no such grave that is new and nameless. However, when they show him their evidence, he’s quick to scramble for the records.

Even the cemetery records don’t show who is buried in this small plot of land. With that, he reluctantly gives them permission to dig up the grave. 

Once they reach the coffin, Crow is quick to pry the lid off. Finally, they can—

̸ ̷ ̴ ̵ ̴ ̷̨̡̦̗̣̪̫̻̟̗̗̈́̍͗̀̊̕ ̴̠͌̎ ̶̠̗̭̗̻́͌ ̴̮̑͠  ̸̢͚̩̤͔̬̙́͆ ̵̶̶̡̭̣̖̳̦͚̔̃̇́̀̉͐̀͋͋̆͑̌͑͂  ̴̴ ̴ ̷ ̵ ̸

—He didn't want to die either! If there's one thing I know, he'd want to stay with us! Let me fight for his place here!—

̵ ̶ ̸ ̸ ̷̢̨͎̭̩̫̤̳̱̠͉͖̙̤̫̱̑̋̄̈́̄͆͐̈́͌̃̈̒͒͆̾̋͌́̊͠͠ͅ   ̸̛͎̥̈̾̈́̽̂̓̇̓̈́̂̒͋̋̋͒̾̈͋̚̕͝ͅ ̵̢̨̧̤̤̹͎̤̹̻̘̮̝̠̝͖̠̠͔͈̩̞͈̀͂̓̔͘ ̸̡̛͚̖͙̣̘̪̽ ̴̳̩̖̲͉͕͈͙̗͊͗̀͋̿̐ͅ ̶̶̳̦͚͑̌͑͂  ̴̴ ̴ 

“Crow!”

His ears ring. Everyone’s call for his name drags him back to reality. Fucking Aidios, his head is screaming at him. This isn’t normal. No, it is. He’s felt like this before. He’s heard himself say those words before. Back when— In his—

Nightmares.

Or memories?

He looks back down to the body in the coffin. It’s a teenage boy, and he looks familiar…

“It looks like the second ghost. The one who went with us when we finally finished the Old Schoolhouse,” Fie says, answering the question in everyone’s heads. 

Again, pain strikes through his head. 

“There is… no need. Thank… you. For everything.”

They always had the answer. Back then, the Old Schoolhouse— Valimar’s Divine Knight Trial had activated because of the ghost. Of course that meant that the ghost used to be the Awakener, how could they overlook something so simple—

“Look.” Laura sounds breathless as she points to the folded papers scattered about, some laying over the body while others frame it, providing some cushioning from the inside of the coffin. Upon closer look, they’re origami horses. “This looks like about a hundred paper horses. In Legram, it’s a custom to fold so many to wish for a sick person to become healthy again. The fact that there’s so many here must’ve meant that we… cared deeply for this person.”

Fie holds up one of the origami horses which look so crumpled up. “ I’d recognize my handiwork anywhere” There’s a sniffle. They look up to her. She has a tear streaming down one side of her face. “Hey, does anyone else feel really really sad all of a sudden?”

Yeah. 

̵ ̶ ̸ ̸ ̷ ̴ ̵ ̴ ̷̨̡̦̗̣̪̫̻̟̗̗̈́̍͗̀̊̕ ̴̠͌̎ ̶̠̗̭̗̻́͌ ̴̮̑͠  ̸̢͚̩̤͔̬̙́͆ ̵̡̭̣̖̔̃̇́̀̉͐̀͋͋̆ ̸͇̬́̐ ̷̨̩͈̣̰̞̤̫̺̯̹̮̱͓̠̇̈́̋͋̕ͅͅ ̸̧̧̜̞͇̳͙̦̩̫̦͙̑͐̏̈̇̃̐̾̄͋͝͝ ̴̢͎̦̘̬̯̹̣̐͆ ̴̢̧̞̩̖͉͓̫̯̲̟̟͚̗̻̺̩̘̥̤̭̍̂̃͐̇̉́́͂͂̊̽̂̕͜͠  ̴̭̖͓̬̱͙̯̟͇̬̮̤̹̳̙̯̻͌̃͆͌͗̊̅͂̓͌̒̃̒̏  ̵̧̧̤̗͚͉̬̝͉̺̗͔͉͚͇̩̬͙̩̦̰͍̽̈́  ̵̢̨̧̤̤̹͎̤̹̻̘̮̝̠̝͖̠̠͔͈̩̞͈̀͂̓̔͘ ̸̡̛͚̖͙̣̘̪̽ ̴̳̩̖̲͉͕͈͙̗͊͗̀͋̿̐ͅ ̶̶̳̦͚͑̌͑͂  ̴̴ ̴ ̷ ̵ ̸

—Vita, please! He's dying! Save him!—

 ̶̶̳̦͚͑̌͑͂  ̴̴ ̴ ̷ ̵ ̸ ̴ ̷̨̡̦̗̣̪̫̻̟̗̗̈́̍͗̀̊̕ ̴̠͌̎ ̶̠̗̭̗̻́͌ ̴̮̑͠  ̸̢͚̩̤͔̬̙́͆ ̵̡̭̣̖̔̃̇́̀̉͐̀͋͋̆ ̸͇̬́̐ ̵ ̶ ̸ ̸ ̷ ̴ ̵ ̴ ̷̨̡̦̗̣̪̫̻̟̗̗̈́̍͗̀̊̕ ̴̠͌̎ ̶̠̗̭̗̻́͌ ̴̮̑͠

Crow feels like the only way to get this pain out of his chest is if he tears his heart out.

“There’s also… an album in here,” Machias says, reaching out to grab the photo album resting in the corner of the coffin. 

As they flip through the pictures, Crow’s chest only aches and aches more. It is a bizarre experience seeing oneself in pictures he has no memories of. Picnics, random side quests during field studies, lounging in the Old Class VII dormitory… Seriously, that smile on his own face… It's strange to look at.

"Wait, I have copies of these pictures. Has he been in these pictures this whole time?" Alisa asks, voice trembling. She pulls out her ARCUS and taps until pictures show on the screen. The stranger is in the pictures on her phone too. “I… could’ve sworn he wasn’t there last time I checked…”

Emma mutters, “I guess the same thing blocking our memories of this person is blocking our perception of him as well…” 

Their words are almost static to his ears as he stares at a picture of him being a dork, wearing his [Azure Siegfried] costume and kissing the stranger in a comparably edgy outfit. Crow has never seen himself look so genuinely happy while doing something so stupid. 

His eyes linger on the kiss. 

Based on how happy everyone is in the pictures, this guy is clearly close to everyone in Class VII, but it seems he and Crow were closer in a different way. Is this really his type? A guy who looks cute and hot with a smile the world— that he doesn’t deserve? Just his luck to desire someone out of his reach. 

"Just… who are you?"

Something wet falls off his face and drops onto the body. 

"Why have we forgotten you?"

He stares at the corpse’s clothes soaking the tear up. It’s a miracle that the clothes are still in pristine condition.

Wait.

The corpse. It’s also in pristine condition. There's not even a scent of rot. How is that possible when it’s been more than a year? 

He reaches out to touch the skin of the body. It’s smooth. Hard. 

He pulls the shirt down. If Valimar was stabbed through the chest, then this guy should— His chest is clear and intact. Not a hole or scar in sight. Based on what he knows, even if his memories are failing him, this shouldn’t be possible. He knows from personal experience that even Vita’s healing magic can't repair scars. 

His knuckles rap against the body twice. A hollow sound rings back.

“This is a doll,” Sara says, face blank. “Rosenberg’s, I’d wager.” 

“What the heck is that supposed to mean?” Machias clicks his tongue, turning away from everyone as he takes off his glasses and rubs his eyes. “That either the corpse didn’t survive or someone took the corpse somewhere else?”

Elliot mutters, “Based on how someone is trying really hard to keep this guy forgotten, something tells me it’s the latter.”

“How terrible.” There’s an edge of anger to Gaius’ voice. “Why would anyone dare to desecrate the dead?”

Crow flinches when Emma suddenly gasps. “Orchid Brünnhilde and Rutger Claussell are supposed to be deceased, yet they walk amongst the living. Chancellor Osborne survived a fatal wound. It might be that… Someone out there is capable of reviving the dead…”  

In a world with magic flying robots, Crow shouldn’t be surprised. He really shouldn’t, but his mind still shuts down with that information. 

“Man, this guy must’ve hurt one hell of a bad guy to warrant having his memories erased then his body resurrected to become a puppet,” Crow chuckles humorlessly. 

Millium nods. Her smile is wobbly. “This whole thing is kinda messed up, but I’m also kinda glad. If he’s alive, that means we can meet him again, right?”

Jusis sighs. “I’m not opposed to that, but where would we even go about looking for him? All of us have travelled the country since we graduated, yet none of us have seen any hint of his guy at all.”

“I don't think the problem is that we can't find this guy anywhere.” Sara picks up a picture. Her hand trembles. “I think it's that he doesn't look the same anymore. Look at his weapon.”

It’s a picture of Class VII doing one of those super cheesy poses where they cross all their weapons together. 

Crow's heart drops.

In the guy’s hand is… a tachi.

 

The same one that the Ashen Saint carries.

 

---

 

Chapter 81 - The Poison of Humanity

Ishmelga wakes up in a place devoid of light. It should be home to him. It should be all he knows, what with the curse that was placed on his host.

However… While memories may be easy to erase, experience is not. Feelings will not 

He may not know the whens, the wheres, the whys, or the hows, but the whats have engraved themselves into his blood. To a creature born from humanity's worst emotions, something like love is a scar to him 

It will never fade away.

When he finally wakes up in a physical body, surrounded by cold and black and all of Alberich’s signature technology, he's aware of a deep ache in his chest. It's so annoyingly present, he'd rip his heart out if he still had one.

Meeting Alisa Reinford there must be a goddess-damned miracle. Her determination and golden hair remind him of another woman from a memory that belongs only to him. Not his host’s, his.

Her stories about love also help him pinpoint what exactly this damn feeling in his chest is:

Longing.

He longs for the dawn.

He knows he has seen the sun. He has basked in warmth. He has drowned in love. 

He has tasted peace.

The knowledge that he's capable of soaring in the skies, unburdened by invisible grudges and fate, is like a drug. He can't go back. He refuses to. That's his prerogative as the most self-serving concept in this world.

It is just… such a shame. That he is confined to the body of a puppet, held up by the strings of the true Ishmelga, forced to wear a mask that rejects emotions.

He would say it's pathetic, but he feels a strange fondness toward his host. Once upon a time, they accepted one another. He may not remember this either, but he can't forget the feeling of being whole. There's only one way that's possible in his situation.

Still, he hates that they're no longer united. That they must restart from zero. That the dawn is gone. For that, he hates the true Ishmelga.

He no longer cares for that primitive abomination’s plans. For taking away everything—the colors, the stars, the sun—he had built with his host, he swears he will tear true-Ishmelga’s plans to shreds.

Even if he must begin with tearing apart this farce. To rely solely on external validation, especially from a being like Ishmelga. How pathetic. His host could be built up to be something greater, but right now… it needs to be destroyed. Broken down.

Again.

And ah… Ishmelga is no stranger to breaking things. 

Before that, however, his first priority is to gain more control over this body. No matter how much he screams into the void and uses his power to wreck the darkness, he never wakes up in reality. His voice can't even reach his host. His host probably doesn't even know he exists.

The day he finally regains control is completely random. Perhaps there's some defect in this mask, but he won't complain.

He tries to take off the mask. His arms only lock in place when he tries to pull. Of course Alberich wouldn't make this easy.

First things first then, he must reunite with Alisa. While he spent most of their time together insulting him, he must admit that he needs someone to tamper with the technology of this mask to give him more freedom. She's the only one he knows might be capable of a feat while willing to do it, assuming he's able to coax the non-brainwashed version of her out.

Of course, this doesn't come without obstacles. Upon waking in the real world, he notices there's a girl with white-hair following him. She has all the signs of being one of Alberich's homunculi, therefore she's untrustworthy right now. He leaves her in the dust.

It's a risky move. She is likely to report to Alberich for his rogue actions, but that's a future problem. There's a chance he can escape from the consequences unscathed.

The next obstacle is actually awakening the version of Alisa that actually remembers their encounter. Despite her idealistic drivel earlier, she only remembers him as the Ashen Saint. She even gets creeped out by him, despite how polite he is with his insistence.

Well, as polite as he can be.

Even though he doesn't know how to be polite. He never needed to. He only made judgments because he once pretended to be a god.

Eventually he gets frustrated with the lack of progress and growls, “Oh, just snap out of it already.”

Her muscles stiffen as her eyes begin to see through him. After a few seconds, she twitches and looks at him in shock. “What the—? Ishmelga?”

Huh. That makes sense. Of course Alberich would program her to follow Ishmelga's orders.

“So much for your nonsense about connections transcending memory. Seems like we can only have meetings like this if I use my own power.”

Alisa huffs and turns away. “Look, this is harder than I thought! I feel like a ghost forced to watch my own body go through the usual motions, completely oblivious to my not-father hijacking my mind to work with him at night!”

“At least there’s a silver lining. You retain the knowledge you gain while Alberich activates his pseudo stigma on you. That’s good enough.”

“How the heck is any part of this good?” 

“That means the more you’re forced to work with him, the more you can figure out how his technology works. Given enough time, hopefully you can figure out how to tamper with this mask so that I can wake up more frequently.” He snorts, raising his hand to trace the edge of his mask. The action is involuntarily halted, leaving his hand frozen in the air. “Can you take this damn mask off of me and inspect it?” 

“You can’t take it off by yourself?”

“Obviously.”

Alisa grumbles. “I see you haven’t fixed your attitude in the last three months.” 

Has it really been that long? That's a lot of wasted time.

Gently, Alisa lifts the mask off of him. The moment the cold metal stops biting into his skin, Ishmelga feels as if a weight has been lifted off of him. The annoying static constantly blaring in the background is gone, though the distraction only makes him more aware of the ache in his chest.

He feels so damned empty. The void within him yearns for something. It’s crippling. Like he can’t do anything until he gets that something.

Slowly, his surroundings begin to vanish. The lines blur and the colors of the sky and land wash away. He almost feels like he’s about the fall, but he grounds his focus on the girl in front of him. She’s the only thing here that hasn’t lost its clarity in his vision. 

Yearning. Longing.

These strange feelings screech at him. 

“I think I understand enough to play around with the technology in this mask, but I can’t guarantee any resul— Wha—?”

There is no thought or reason behind his action. It’s all instinct. Ishmelga could laugh at himself for how pathetic he’s acting, suddenly clinging onto this girl like his life depends on it. 

Maybe it does.

“I would’ve never thought you’d be the touch-starved type,” Alisa mutters but she awkwardly rubs his back while she inspects the mask in her other hand. 

“Consider this an exception,” he says nonchalantly, though the way he tightly grips her in a hug betrays his feelings. “I’ve been waiting too damn long to feel something. I’m sick of the usual cold rigidity that permeates my very being.” 

“Hey, I’m not judging you for wanting a hug,” Alisa says gently. “If you’re as lonely as you say you are, then it’s only human to want to find comfort in another person. We’re not meant to carry our burdens alone.”

Aidios must be laughing at him. Him? Feeling like a human? This has to be a joke. 

That’s what makes humans so weak. That’s why Ishmelga feels so weak right now.

He pulls himself off of her and takes a few steps back. He wraps himself in his cloak as if to protect himself from the weakness of humanity, but that does absolutely nothing because the problem stems from within. 

This wasn’t meant to happen. He was supposed to restore his other half’s humanity, not be subjected to it. While his main goal is to feel right again, to feel so deeply was his host’s job. To figure out what to do and how to respond to these other pathetic humans was his host’s job. 

He's just a fragment of Ishmelga, just a power, just a parasite. He’s content with feeding off these emotions secondhand, but to actually figure out what to do with it? To be human with it?

It only makes him feel pathetic for being dependent on it. Weak for needing it. Stupid for doing a stupid action like a hug. He’s supposed to be beyond this, really. 

No wonder the true-Ishmelga treats these pesky emotions like they’re poison. 

Still, he desires to see the dawn again. If it means dealing with these Aidios-damned emotions, then so be it. 

“I’ll give you three nights,” Ishmelga mutters. “And by three nights, I only mean during the night under my supervision. I’ll reactivate Black Alberich’s stigma whenever you need to rest or whatever.”

“Wait, what the heck? That’s unfair!”

“Call it a precaution. If I mess with you too much, Alberich is sure to find out. I’m already risking myself by being here, but I won’t risk you. Plus, I don’t trust you to not do something stupid to ruin our plans.” 

She deadpans, “Wow. I’m so flattered you have so much faith in me.” 

Like he said, after exactly three nights, he returns Alisa to how Alberich expects her to be while he returns to the location he originally woke up in. The moment he spots the homunculus, he slips the mask back on, wondering how much time will pass when he next wakes up. 

It turns out to be two and a half months. Not bad. 

He repeats what he did last time. Ditch the Black Rabbit to find the girl who promised to be his friend. Thankfully, she typically sticks around Reinford Industries. 

According to her, she’s been paying more attention to gnome technology when her pseudo stigma is in full effect, so she promises better results. Ishmelga still does not believe in promises but he doesn’t mock her for it this time. Only time will tell if the promise is valid. 

The next time he wakes up, only one month has passed. It looks like she can keep her promise.  

Again, he finds her and lets her tinker with the mask. This time, she changes it so he’s allowed to still stay in control of this body for a while longer even with the mask on. This time, his voice can reach his host even when he’s not in control. Perfect. When he returns to the Black Rabbit, he allows himself to test how much he can use her. 

To his surprise, the usually emotionless girl sends him a glare. “You’re not the Ashen Saint. Who are you?”

He hasn’t even said anything and she already figured him out? She’s more perceptive than he gave her credit for. He might have to incapacitate her if she turns out to be a threat. 

“My answer depends on what you will do with the information. Will you report to the Black Workshop?” 

Altina shakes her head, though her cautious expression makes it clear that she’s also gauging whether he’s a threat or not. “I’m just wondering… If you’re another version of the Ashen Saint, do you know if the old version is still there somewhere inside?”

It takes a moment to figure out what she’s talking about. She talks as if the possibility of the Ashen Saint hosting different minds in one body is not foreign to her. She also implies… There is no way…

“Do you remember who my host was before the curse wiped his existence from the world?”

She gives him another hesitant stare before eventually nodding. “So, that’s why no one remembers…”

He cannot comprehend what a gift from Aidios is nor has ever expected that he would ever receive one. This is, by definition, a miracle. How is it possible for someone to keep their memories of a person the world has forgotten? The only exception might be if the individual never belonged from the world to begin with, but he knows that Altina is a simple homunculus. 

He doubts even Black Alberich is capable of overriding this curse. 

Oh well, that’s a thought for another day. The more pressing matter is…

“If you remember my past self and you have no intention of reporting to the Black Workshop, does that mean you have ulterior motives regarding the Ashen Saint?” 

“I only… wish for him to return to his old self.” 

Between his tentative friendship with Alisa, capable of tampering with his mask, and sharing the same goal with Altina, uncorrupted by a memory-eating curse, Ishmelga feels blessed for the first time in his life. Granted, that pesky goddess is the reason he’s like this in the first place, originally stuck with virtually nothing to help him, so he’s not about to worship her just yet. Or ever. 

“What a coincidence. I’m actively working on bringing him back. Care to tell me all the details of his life so I can make the process easier?” 

Unsurprisingly, Altina continues to keep her guard up around him. Good, at least she’s smart. “Who are you? How do I know I can trust you?”

“You could say I’m just a mere shadow of his former self.” A very destructive shadow with destructive tendencies, but he won't mention that. “It’s up to you whether you trust me or not. Regardless of your help, I will still do everything in my power to bring him back.” 

A pregnant pause. Despite how his patience wears thin, especially when he doesn’t have much time before this ridiculous mask overrides him, he is grateful when he sees the girl nod and speak.

…

His mind whirls with calculations and predictions. At first, he wasn’t sure how to go about actually returning his host back to his former self. His original plan was to break his host’s mind by making him believe that the true Ishmelga no longer needed him. Dependent types always break when the one they depend on abandons him. 

However, after hearing how needlessly compassionate his host used to be, a strange memory snags at his mind.

“No matter how much you may lose in the future, do whatever it takes to not let that one piece shatter.” 

Break… Break… Break… And be reborn anew. Perhaps there’s a much more impactful way to break everything about their current existence. 

His gaze flits over the Black Rabbit. The homunculus, as passive as she acts, has always been by his side, guarding his principles. Always ready to support and to protect despite her immaturity and lack of understanding of human nature. A typical, pathetic human wouldn't be able to fight the urge of wanting to protect her. 

Even Ishmelga himself can sense a spark of an urge to keep her safe, beyond logical reasons. The image of his hand moving to pat the top of her head lingers in the back of his head. This is just another thing to laugh about. Him? Protective?

Well, if even he isn't immune, then this is perfect. All he needs to know is how far her devotion goes.

“Altina, will you do anything to get your old Ashen Saint back?”

---

 

*Chapter 82 - Reset GET OUT OF MY MIND Reset OUT OF MY MIND Reset Reset MY MIND

There is… something wrong with him. Of course, he already knows this. Unreliable memory, unreliable identity, unreliable decision-making.

The only worth he has is his loyalty and ability. However, if he were to be somehow crippled and thus rendered unable to carry on his tasks, then even loyalty won’t save him from his uselessness. 

That was why he had to complete every task with perfection. 

Perfection. Perfection. Perfection.

Everything else blurs in the background. Faceless people. Colorless skies. None of them matter unless they’re relevant to his orders. 

Vaguely, he is aware that he is driven by the fear of being abandoned to the void again. He knows because he had been ruled by fear when the Black Rabbit had prevented him from slating the Detective despite his mind screaming at him to kill kill kill.

Thankfully, Chancellor Osborne had shown him mercy for letting the Detective go, stating this mistake was only a minor inconvenience to their plan as a whole. There would be no punishment, no abandonment, no return to nothingness.

Or… so he thought.

Many months later, he begins to hear a voice, sounding much like Lord Ishmelga's. 

“Kill her.”

His body seizes up for a moment, primed to act on the order. Sliding his blade out of its sheath, he turns to the only female occupying the room. There, the Black Rabbit lay in the bed of their room in the inn. Her breathing is calm as she murmurs in her sleep.

Without hesitation, the blade swings in the air.

“Stop.”

The blade stops. A few strands of white hair slide off his blade.

Mocking cackles could be heard between his ears, but his attention is grabbed by the breath escaping his lungs.

Is he… relieved?

Why would Lord Ishmelga order him to do such a thing and then change His mind at the last moment? Is this a test?

These are dangerous thoughts. He is not allowed to question. Not allowed to feel.

If this is a test, he can only wait to see if he has passed or not. However, there ends up being no sign on whether or not he passed.

Instead, a sensation of wrong pervads his being when the Black Rabbit and he fulfill a mission the next day—when the Black Rabbit turned to him, requesting a head pat as if she almost didn't die by his hand the night before. 

What is the point of the connection she wanted to build between them when he will destroy it when given the right order?

More philosophy. More needless thoughts. The answer is simple: There is no point. That is enough.

Weeks later, Lord Ishmelga's voice rings between his ears again.

“Kill her.”

The slide of metal sings against his sheathe.

“Don't.”

He shouldn't question it. Shouldn't question an order that made no sense. They have no use for pawns who question. He didn't want to be useless.

“Kill her.”

His blade is raised. It swings down on his companion.

“Stop.”

The sword halts in the air, not even cutting a strand of hair this time. Another heavy breath let a strange weight lift from his shoulders.

He shouldn't question it.

He really shouldn't.

“What do you want from me? You know I will slay anyone you want me to.”

Silence. Part of him began to wonder if he was hallucinating. Is he capable of such a thing? Would he be a defect if he was?

“I want you to choose. Do you want to kill her or not?”

He is being given a choice? How strange. Is this another test of his loyalty?

He thinks about what the most acceptable response would be, based on their previous interactions. “I want what you want. My blade is yours alone.”

“Are you so pathetic that you can't make decisions for yourself? You're useless if you can't think for yourself.”

His whole body flinches at the scathing tone. No. He isn't useless. He doesn't want to be useless.

“Sorry.”

“Don't waste your breath on an empty apology. Just do what you want to do already. Do you want her to live or not?”

His hands tremble on his sword. Surely, Lord Ishmelga would prefer it if he chose to kill her, right? Or perhaps that isn't the case, considering that she is essential to their plan in the future… but there are always replacements…

“I said to do what you want, not what I want.”

This is impossible then. He doesn't want. He isn't capable of want. 

Whether the Black Rabbit lives or not, her fate doesn't matter to him. Forget that she trusts him for no reason. Forget that she tries to take care of him even when it’s pointless.

Still, her imminent death is not necessary, so his sword is returned to his side. His fingers dig into the hilt just in case he needs to change.

Instead of any sort of praise or disappointed retaliation, however, there is nothing. Seconds and minutes passed with the voice never saying another word, leaving him to face his choice alone.

The void inside has never throbbed so achingly before.

 

…

 

Becoming an instructor responsible for four students—five, if Black Rabbit counts—is a difficult adjustment. Again, he doesn’t question the reason for this decision, but it isn’t difficult to determine why. Lord Ishmelga and Chancellor Osborne’s plans are progressing steadily, but he is currently on standby until further notice because he is unneeded.

One might say that Chancellor Osborne lets it happen out of pure whim. He will not argue with the decision.

It’s just… Everywhere he looks, he sees something strange. 

Red.

It’s such a striking color, compared to how his surroundings usually appear so dull. He’s never been distracted by the color of blood before. 

Now, however, wisps of red sometimes mingle behind the students in black uniforms. Ghosts in red take their seats in the classroom before they vanish and are replaced by the five he’s in charge of. 

Hallucinations. There truly is something wrong with him. 

Yet, he just can’t look away. Red is such an intense color. So deep, it coaxes a paradoxical nostalgia that is quickly shut down by his mask. So piercing, it sends shivers—

“What are you staring at?” 

His gaze drifts away from the Azure Chevalier, whose eyes have a mesmerizing type of red. 

“Your eyes are red.” 

“Yeah?”

The tone is so hostile and scathing, making the Azure Chevalier’s dislike and distrust of him obvious. Such things usually fade into the background, but the Azure Chevalier’s contempt toward him makes the aching void within him throb more painfully. 

Again, there’s that feeling sensation. A static that pours into his ears. 

Too many times does the static rise when he’s around the Azure Chevalier. Too many times does he have to smother it beneath his mask. 

Inhale…

Exhale…

Reset. 

Between this and getting lost in the color of red, it’s all quite an inconvenience, so he tries to avoid the Azure Chevalier as much as possible. By doing so, he can function without issue. 

All is fine. All would be fine, if not for the fact that the Azure Chevalier was not the only trigger to the static. The presence of the other instructor, the petite woman, makes his head pound, eardrums pierced by needles of the static. Even when her attitude towards him is more kind — no, no one would ever give kindness to someone like him —he recoils in pain at the sight of her. 

The mask helps him not scream. The mask helps him stay nonchalant, stay vigilant.

But… agh…

It hurts. So much. It might help to scream. But he can’t.

Instead, he finds himself going to the restroom, locking himself behind one of the stalls, and dragging his back down against the wall. 

Inhale…

He’s so weak for wanting to scream. He should be grateful that he can’t.

Exhale…

 

Reset.

 

The onslaught of static is relentless when friends of the Azure Chevalier come visit. He can’t remember the names. They’re as faceless and colorless as everyone else. But, they’re easy to identify by the weapons they carry. Great sword, gunblades, orbal wand. It’s the three he vaguely noticed during his mission at

He shakes his aching head and walks away. The suffocating static clings to him. The ghosts in red run past him, two blurs rushing ahead while the last one tries to keep up with them. He can hear their laughter beyond the static before they turn around to look at him.

They have faces. 

Amber eyes. Green eyes. Turquoise eyes.

Great sword. Gunblades. Orbal wand. 

█̶ ̴█̷ ̷█̷ ̸█̵ ̴█̴.̵ ̵█̶ ̶█̵ ̵█̶.̵ ̷█̴ ̸█̵ ̶█̸ ̸█̴ ̴█̷ ̸█̵.̶

— SHATTER —

The sound of a shattered mirror silences the static. The epicenter of the fragments overlap perfectly over his reflection’s chest. Broken into pieces. Missing many pieces.

It’s an apt description of what the void inside feels like. 

Inhale…

Is it wrong to want the mirror to be fixed?

Exhale…

 

Reset. 

 

Longing:  strong desire especially for something unattainable.

Now that he has stumbled across the word in a book, the word can’t leave his mind. It doesn’t exist as a repeating thought, but it is ever present in the way he keeps staring at the students, the ghosts, and the red eyes. 

He never thought there was an explanation for his tendencies, but that word alone clings to his body. It ebbs. It flows. It calls. Echoes.

It’s distracting. The mask should smother it and it does, but it keeps coming back. Stronger when he sees the hallucinations. Even stronger when he sees the Azure Chevalier reunite with more of his companions in Crossbell. 

Too strong when their ARCUS’ link up during a battle on top of a tower that sees all. 

Smother it.

Even as their breathing synchronizes as one.

Smother it.

Even as the flow of their attacks slot perfectly, naturally side by side. As if he belongs to fight on a side that isn’t Lord Ishmelga’s.

Smother it.

“Aren’t you the kid, Kid? How the hell am I only recognizing you now?”

“...”

“You in the silent treatment phase again, Kid? Brings me back to the good ol’ days when you kept trying to stab me.” 

Smother it.

Even as someone remembers him. Sounding like memories of him are fond, even. 

Smother it.

Even as he’s thrown off the roof and teleported to some location he doesn’t recognize. Even as the sudden disconnect between his ARCUS and the Azure Chevalier brings a wave of static crashing down on him. 

Smother it!

“Ahah…”

The voice from long before echoes back in his head. Flashes of red-uniformed ghosts blind him more than the growing flames of the Enforcer before him. 

“It appears that…” 

Get out—

Static. Voice. Ghosts. Flames. Impending death. Impending mission failure. 

It’s too much. He wants to scream. 

“...You have finally tasted the fruit of dawn.”

GET OUT OF MY MIND—

The flames disappear, replaced by a flash of steel. His hands tremble around his blade, doubtful he can counter when his head is so jumbled up, distracted, confused and broken.

Inhale…

”Do you dare to go back?”

Exhale.

 

Reset. 

.

.

.

“You can ask for help! Ask for help every day if you need to! It’ll be okay, you hear me?!”

“Aye. No matter what side you’re on in the future, we won’t abandon a friend in need.”

.

Reset.

.

“I don’t care if this power of yours is evil in nature, that doesn’t erase all the kindness you’ve shown us. That doesn’t mean you no longer deserve to hold your head high and stand with us.”

“This is a promise to our individual selves. For me to be a better █ █ █ █ █ . For him to be a better █ █ █ █ █ . And for you to be a better █ , however you envision that person to be. Even if you have to fight against us for whatever reason in the future, I want you to fight as someone who's stronger, prouder than you are now. The only way you can break this promise is if you give up on yourself.”

.

Reset.

.

“It's hard to be scared of you when you're my hero.”

“It's a gramps ride-along-plushie! I heard from █ █ █ █ █ █ that you're like a super big fan of █ █ █ █ █ █ , so I got you one! I also have one, so we can match!”

.

Reset.

.

“I know you’re scared of your power, but you only lost control of it because of someone else’s meddling. You’ve done a good job keeping yourself under control. Even under the talisman’s influence, the only thing you had on your mind was protecting us. That’s… no small feat.”

“To change makes it sound more difficult than it actually is. You are who you choose to be, as long as you decide who that is.” 

.

Reset. 

.

“I don’t know. We could start by, maybe, not avoiding each other? Saying good morning when we see each other? Maybe fish together sometimes, just to have company?”

“What’s the point in communicating if no one is going to understand you? Come on, you’re wasting this code’s potential! Just imagine: if I understood it, we could secretly swap answers while we’re taking an exam!”

.

.

.

Reset.

.

.

.

“People are supposed to believe in themselves.

“Your bonds. They’ve taught me that.

“So, you better not abandon them again.”

.

.

.

.

.

Reset.

 

Static blares everywhere around him. Everywhere inside him, condensing around his chest. It aches. It throbs. It burns. It hurts. 

“Valimar… Why do you have secondary contracts with some of the people here?”

Unknown emotions. Unnamed feelings. They stab him from inside out. 

“I do not know. These have been in place since you have awakened me.” 

“Please…” A pained grunt. “Erase them.”

Let it out

“It does not appear I have the ability to fulfill your request.”

Let him scream

Please

“It hurts… How… Ngh… Valimar.”

He can’t… Function like this

“Yes?”

He’s useless like this

“Leave this place. Make space away from them. I need… to...” 

 

RESET

 

“You’re useless.”

He knew. 

“You can’t even keep yourself together.”

He already knew this. 

“Do you know why you’re useless?”

He didn’t know. 

“Reflect what’s behind the mask.”

To reflect meant to acknowledge the relentless hurricane of emotions locked behind his mask, only allowing the disaster to further destroy himself from within. Each feeling that weathered away at him was strangely familiar and unfamiliar at the same time, but he couldn’t place a name for most of them, forbidding him from knowing how to react.

Not like he even had the ability to.

There was only emotion he could recognize: Hatred. 

Being the scion of the entity born from hatred, it would be absurd to not recognize such a sensation. In fact, he was fairly sensitive to these feelings, being able to tell when hatred was festering in other people. 

Though, to have his own feelings of hatred? To realize that the hatred was directed toward himself? Lord Ishmelga had wanted to keep him completely indifferent, saying any emotion, including hatred, would be a hindrance to his work ethic. And, well, He was right, considering how he was standing in front of a lake instead of reporting to Chancellor Osborne.

He had quit his mission to remain on standby as an instructor out of his own free will. What was the point in continuing? This hatred toward himself would lead to an inevitable failure. 

He did not want to fail again. He did not want to disappoint them again. 

There was only one way to stop himself from failing. 

A flash of red overtook his vision for a moment. These thoughts of self destruction… were somehow not unfamiliar. 

No matter how much he questioned himself, he could never find the reason why. It was frustrating, really, to devote all this time to such an unnecessary emotion that he couldn’t even act on.

Or could he?

“Are you sure about that?” 

While stabbing himself was undeniably a forbidden action unless the situation required it, he was sure he could get away with walking into a mass of water and accidentally drowning. For some reason, at the thought of dying, he was reminded of fire and his chest ached. At least… If he did have to die, he would prefer to drown than to burn to death.

...Why was he still thinking about this? He was already dead. 

“Do you not desire to erase your needless emotions?” 

He didn’t desire anything.

And yet… the water was calling to him, compelling his legs to take a step closer to the lake.

From first-hand experience, he knew that people chose death when they felt cornered or to fulfill their sense of duty. Others killed themselves when they were in too much pain, seeing death as an escape. 

He did not feel cornered nor did he feel any pain at the moment, at least not in a physical sense. It was also not his duty, though it might be at this rate if he continued to waste time on such thoughts. Lord Ishmelga did not require a suicidal pawn, and being one may be detrimental to His goals. So, if he was seriously contemplating it, he may as well die right now to not cause trouble. 

...Lord Ishmelga also had no desire to have a pawn who was bottling up a storm of incomprehensible feelings. Lord Ishmelga had told him again and again that he was not allowed to feel any emotions other than the ones He fed him through their link. To be in this condition right now… to be on the brink of losing himself to the hurricane… he was a defective pawn already, wasn’t he?

He could try to convince himself that this act was to prevent a future failure, but the truth was that he was already a failure failure failure. 

Somehow, that thought didn’t hurt as much as the burn in his chest, desiring for all the feelings locked in him to be released. But they couldn’t. No matter what. Because the Ashen Saint wasn’t allowed to scream or cry it all out.

The only sensible solution was to smother it all until there was nothing left and—his eyes darted back to the lake like a moth to a flame—at that moment he knew exactly what method he could use.

It was perfect, really. He could let the water drown these feelings, drown his screams; if that didn’t work, then he could just disappear because he was useless like this.

He took a step forward, wondering how eerie it was to simply decide to permanently end his future just like that. But, his life was just that simple. The only thing he lived for was to serve Lord Ishmelga. If he had to nearly die or actually die for His sake, he would. 

His feet continued to move forward again until he was at the edge. He stared down at the unbroken surface of water, his gaze tracing the outline of his reflection.

This was the face of no one. This was the essence of nothing.

This was the product of his life.

 

And he had nothing else to live for.

 

At that thought, his chest ached once again, feeling the hurricane suddenly grow and shred more of him. Suddenly his vision blacked out for a second, replaced by visions of people he had met. 

Crow Armbrust. 

Alisa Reinford.

Millium Orion. 

Elliot Craig. 

Fie Clausell. 

Laura Arseid. 

Machias Regnitz. 

Emma Millstein.

Gaius Worzel

Jusis Albarea

Sara Valestein. 

How strange… He never clearly remembered names of people when it was unnecessary. How was it possible for those names to pop up right now? Was it related to the disturbance within him?

In the end, it didn’t matter. He would kill everything right here and now. Then, be reborn again as nothingness. 

Again and again and again. As many times as it takes to stop being a failure. 

Falling over the edge, he plunged into the cold embrace of the water, sinking until he hit the soil and stones at the bottom. 

He held onto his breath for as long as he could, focusing on any change of his internal conflict. 

Nothing seemed to change in the way he planned. He could only feel the burning inferno of hatred more clearly, more intensely, threatening to drown him more than the gentle ebbing of water around him. The longer he stayed there, the more that disaster wrecked havoc within him, deepening the abyss of nothingness that he could always sense in the back of his mind.

He felt like he was able to hold his breath for an eternity, underestimating the instinct to not breathe water. Promptly, he purposely breathed in the water, ready to destroy any and every part of himself that was distracting and worthless, even if it turned out to be all of him.

The water cascaded down his throat and to his burning lungs, smothering the remaining air and replacing them with a painful heaviness. Yet, somehow, he felt like the hurricane of nameless emotions was flooding him more than the actual act of drowning—

Anxiety

Frustration

For every black dot that filled his vision, he could suddenly place names to those emotions.

Loneliness

Shame

Beyond the black spots, he could see someone approaching him at the bottom of this lake. Like the red-uniformed ghosts, this could only be a hallucination.

Guilt

Depression

His blurring and disappearing vision was able to distinguish a woman with black hair and lilac eyes standing before him, reaching her hand out.

" █ █ █ █. "

He couldn't hear what was said, but some part of him knew it was important. 

Longing

He tried to grab the woman's hand and ask her to repeat, but his body felt… so, so heavy. Too heavy. He couldn't move anymore, pinned to the bottom of the lake by this rush of water crushing his lungs.

It hurt a lot, and yet… a feeling of peace finally started to wash over him, making him forget the emotional turmoil that wanted to erupt from him.

Then suddenly, a curtain of endless darkness extinguished his mind, erasing the woman and erasing himself.

 

Calm

 

His eyes open. 

Finding himself in a room full of white. And the ghostly lady from before is there, greeting him with a hug and a kiss to his forehead.

It’s so… motherly.

An unfamiliar concept. 

“Hehe, do you remember me?” The woman smiled as she stroked the back of his hair. “I guess not, but that’s okay. I’m just happy that I get to hold you in my arms again, Rean .”

Peace

 

Comfort

 

Safety

---

 

"You can cut all the flowers but you cannot keep spring from coming." - Pablo Neruda

Notes:

Does it count as suicide if he’s already dead, and therefore he’s not like dead dead? But… Uh, yeah. As helpful as the Ishmelga part of Rean is going to try to be, he isn’t going to come up with… uh… ethical methods. Oh well, he only cares about the results.

I was starting to get writer's block at the beginning cuz there's a lot of things that need to happen that I've been neglecting to do for the past two parts because I was on a one track mind, but now I needed to do that stuff and had no idea how to. As usual, I said why not spice things up with a different perspective? I looked at Randy and said he's too difficult (HA!). Then I looked at Musse and was like lol no, I can't write geniuses, wtf even goes in her mind anyway. Then I begrudgingly told myself to just do something easy like go back to Crow or Altina. Well, guess who touched Musse’s wiki. Then went to gamefaqs and Reddit about her. Then learned about determinism and Laplace's Demon. Then dove straight into a rabbit hole because I'm a sucker for philosophy. But then I got a headache, as I usually do when studying philosophy, and then I got lost in the middle of their conversation, making the flow end up really awkward. Still, it made 6000 words appear out of nowhere so… no regrets. (Story of my writing career lol)

And yes, the plot points at Juno Naval Fortress have barely any change. My creativity took a vacation and my priorities lied with the scenes that happened before and after the field study. Granted, writing it from Ash’s perspective would’ve definitely spiced things up since he currently has a whole different issue going on during the field study, but I pretty much set myself up to write his POV next chapter… and I consider him just as difficult to write as Musse. So yeah, not going to make myself suffer more than I have to lol.

I keep being hard on myself despite how this is supposed to just be an outline lol, lemme stop. But definitely, if I gave myself more time to refine this, I'd work on developing New Class VII's relationships, between each other and their Instructors, because it kinda rough out here as it is lol.

BUT OH MY GOSH, TWO MORE CHAPTERS TO GOOOO (probably)

Anyway, thanks for reading and take care!

Chapter 35: CSIII - Part Four

Notes:

ಠ_ಠ Another massive chapter, yet the amount of chapters has increased again... (╯°□°)╯︵ ┻━┻

Okay, it’s probably too late to decide this now, but I’m just gonna retcon and say the Civil War lasted for a whole year. Meaning everyone in Old Class VII is now one year older than the ones in CSIV canon. Why? Well… It just feels right lol (despite not knowing the logistics of how this would affect Erebonia haha). Stronger bonds and whatnot for fighting a war together for a year lol.

“We creatures of violence and war will never lose in these things; chaos gives us strength and anger fuels our spirit. No, darkness is never what defeats men like us. It’s the simple kindness of the good, one word said in our defense that undoes us entirely. For that one word we will risk everything, sacrifice everything we have and destroy ourselves again and again. Once you have seen enough death, enough pain and enough suffering, kindness becomes its own sort of pain” - Anonymous

 

---

 

Chapter 83 - A Nameless Place

“Where… am I?” 

There is only white as far as the eye can see. It doesn’t appear that there are any walls, but no matter how far he walks, he finds himself back where the strange woman stands. There is also a white door in the middle of nowhere. 

Softly—this woman is so soft, so gentle, so warm—the woman gazes at him. “It’s hard to explain, but you may consider this a place outside of the world’s rules and influences. A place to discover yourself. A place to discover a truth lost to the world . A nameless place, if you will.” 

His eyebrows furrow as he sends a disbelieving look toward the woman. “Discover myself? There’s nothing to discover.” 

The woman patiently smiles at him, giving him the impression that she doesn’t agree with him but confident he will see her truth eventually. Her patience… Her facade of kindness… The peace. The comfort. 

It unnerves him. 

“How do I leave this place?”

“Like I said, this is a place to discover yourself. Once you do, I imagine leaving will be quite simple. However, you are technically free to leave whenever you wish to.” 

He frowns at her. The only exit is through the door, but his gut tells him it will only lead him deeper in this place. Again, he looks around at the endless white. “How?”

Her smile crumples. Lilac eyes look away to the floor, solemn. “I don’t want to tell you. If you are desperate to truly leave everything behind, then you will have to figure that out yourself.” 

He should not care about the woman’s change in mood, yet there is a distant urge to wipe her frown away. “Who are you, anyway?”

“You may call me mom~” She laughs when she sees his deadpan. “Just kidding, you may call me Kasia.”

“I didn’t ask for a name.” He won’t remember it later anyway. “What is your role here?” 

“With enough context, a name can tell you all you need to know about me. I believe you have all the tools you need to figure out who I am. If you try, I’m sure you can figure out who Rean is, too.” 

“You called me that before. Why?” 

The woman lets out a soft chuckle. “Like I said, you will have to figure that out if you want to know the reason.” 

So, it looks like he has three choices. One, stay in this endless room with this strange woman until the end of time. Two, go through the door and discover. Three, find the mysterious other way to leave here freely. 

“What would happen if I kill you?”

Surprisingly, the woman does not react with even a tiny hint of fear. She just stares at her with her calm smile. At peace even with the threat of death in front of her. Though… Considering he arrived here through the act of dying, perhaps death isn’t a threat in this place. She did say that this place is outside of the world’s rules. 

“If that is what you truly desire, I won’t stop you.”

Desire, huh? His hand drifts up to trace the edge of his mask out of habit. He’s incapable of such a concept—

His fingers brush against skin. The mask isn’t here. His chest tightens. There is that anxiety again.

As if the woman can read his thoughts, she says, “Like I said, this is a place outside of the world's rules. You can let yourself be.”

That sounds more like a threat than death ever will to him. There is a reason why he has no memories. There is a reason why no one has memories of him. 

It’s because those memories are unwanted. He’s unwanted.

“What happens if I just kill myself here?”

The woman’s expression tightens. It seems he just found the way he can freely leave here.

“Then you will truly cease to exist. Even as your body lives, you will never be able to wake up again, Rean.” 

He scoffs. “It doesn’t seem like I’ll lose much then. Maybe I deserve to never wake up again.”

Just as he turns away, something warm grabs his wrist. Five fingers hold him tightly. Her peaceful expression crumbles into one of pain. “If that is what you desire, will you at least humor me for a little? I’ve been here alone for so long I can’t remember the last person I talked to. Can you keep me some company before you go?” 

Logically, he should say no. The woes of this strange woman are of no concern to him. Plus, who is to say he won’t end up making her life more difficult in the end? “The farewell will be more painful if we stick together longer.” 

Her eyes alight with determination. “I would rather feel pain than another second of emptiness!” 

Chills crawl up his skin. Something about those words strike deep within him. Pain or emptiness? Is one truly better than the other?

“You are stronger than I am.” Though he does set the bar extremely low.

The strange woman somehow takes his self-deprecating comment as a cue to slide her hand down so that their fingers intertwine. The contact makes his body feel so weak. “There is strength in numbers. If you’re scared of what’s here to discover, then maybe I can help by accompanying you.” 

“I don’t know…” 

“If it’s… any comfort to you, you are free to leave this place at any time through the method you used to arrive here. If you encounter something you can’t live with, then you still have that option.” Before his mind can drift to thinking about how, the strange woman pulls him toward her with their connected hands, embracing him with a one-armed hug. “But again, remember that I will be by your side.”

| Always |

The word nudges at his mind even though she never said it. Those strings of words are… familiar. 

Oblivious with his wandering thoughts, the woman lets out an awkward chuckle. “I hope my presence will be more comforting than death…” 

Her hand continues to grip his like her life depends on it. He can sense the fear oozing off of her. Again, there’s an urge to take it all away.

“Okay… Since I have nothing to lose, then I guess it wouldn't hurt to stay in this place for a little longer.”

A brilliant smile flashes toward him. It emanates so much warmth. She pulls him towards the door.

“Shall we, then?”

Although hesitant, he nods and pushes the door open. A flash of black blinds them. The hand in his rubs circles against his skin, again so soothing, so comforting.

“Mom, where are you?”

A youthful voice echoes through the space before a flash of light finally illuminates the darkness. His eyes adjust slowly, but can catch glimpses of pastel colors. Soft grass, soft skies.

At the center of it all is a boy whose features strongly resemble the woman beside him.

“There you are!”

The woman beside him suddenly stumbles, their linked hands separating once the boy jumps toward her and she has to catch him. Despite the spontaneous attack, the woman laughs freely and combs her hand through the boy's head.

Judging by their appearances and the affections shared between him, it's clear that they are mother and child.

“Are you sure this place is meant to discover myself?” He gestures to the boy in her arms, still oblivious to his appearance. “It seems like this place is for you.”

The woman snickers as if she knows something he doesn't, but the child is the one who speaks to him first. “Woah! Who's that? He looks cool!”

The boy reaches his little arm to poke at his long white hair, but he takes a step back before any contact can be made.

“Sweetie, this is Rean.”

“Woah, that's my name too!”

Ah. The missing piece in the puzzle clicks in his mind before the woman elaborates. “Yeah, he's you from the future.”

Still, this makes no sense.

“Woah, I'm so badass in the future!”

He frowns. He deserves no praise, even if this is from some supposed younger version of himself. Of course, this is only a child with big, round, innocent eyes, unjaded by the truth of his existence. He wouldn't understand.

A dark aura emanates from the woman. “Sweetheart, where exactly did you learn that language?”

Oblivious to her change in mood, the boy giggles. “Dad! He's also a badass!”

At that precise moment, he senses a presence suddenly appear behind them. He turns his head slightly to see a familiar face.

The woman rapidly spins around to face the newcomer and hisses, “You knucklehead!”

“Haha, before you end me, my dear Kasia, I want to leave out in the world that it's Olaf’s fault.”

The woman had said earlier that this is a place outside the rules of the world. If that's the case, then how much of this is real? This is more like a dream. He's doubtful of the credibility of the place when Chancellor Giliath Osborne stands right there, greeted like he's the last piece of this mother and child’s family.

It's even more bizarre to see the normally cold and stoic man let out a deep, hearty chuckle as he kisses his wife and lets the child climb up his shoulders. What a picture-perfect happy family.

And don't even get him started on the implication that Chancellor Osborne is his father— that this is his family. Really, it can't be real…

THUMP 

But he can't deny that he's doing that thing again where he can't stop staring at them. The word longing clings to his mind, sets the pace of his… heart?

His hand drifts to his chest and senses a slight beat. This discovery only solidifies his belief that this isn't real. But then, if it isn't real, then what is the point? To let his guard down? Is this a trap? But who would set a trap on someone who just committed suicide?

“Rean.” 

His attention is instinctively dragged out of his thoughts by Chancellor Osborne's voice. At first, he thinks he's addressing the child, but the man’s eyes are locked on him instead.

It is such a strange feeling to be addressed by a name. He's still not sure if it's his or if this strange place is just trying to mess with him.

“...Yes?”

“I see, in the end, you've taken after me more than Kasia.”

At first, he wonders if that's a joke. He can still see strands of his ashen hair in his vision. The only thing it's similar to is Chancellor Osborne’s strip of white.

“Right? Future me is so cool!” the child beams at him. The praise, even if it's from an immature mind, unnerves him.

He turns away, unable to look at this family any longer. “There's nothing to be proud about.”

He immediately regrets his words when the child begins to whimper. “But… you're me, right? Do I do something terrible in the future?” He can hear tears surface without even looking at the child's face. “I don't want to be bad!”

Suddenly he has the urge to dig himself into a hole, away from their eyes. Ridiculous, this isn't even real. He shouldn't act like their opinions matter. He shouldn't believe that this child is actually a past version of himself, the child clearly doesn't deserve his fate.

Still, a word is choked out of him against his will.

“Sorry.”

“Oh, sweetie…” Kasia—the strange woman, his mind remediates—reaches her hands out to him, but he steps away. “You don't need to apologize for who you are.”

A humorless laugh escapes him. “Don't I? I've figured out long ago that I'm like this for a reason. Memories, feelings, desires, choices, and even my life— I've lost everything, and I can only imagine it's because I did something wrong in the past. I feel like the only reason I'm forced to wake up is to repent.”

Chancellor Osborne sighs, filled with disappointment. The sound makes his stomach drop. “Rean, you can’t repent for something you don’t remember— You can’t assume you’ve done bad things because of that state you’re in now. That’s like telling a person with a terminal illness that they’ve done something terrible to deserve it.”

“That’s different.”

“Listen. No one deserves what you’re going through, and it’s my fault that you’re in this situation in the first place.”

“No. It’s not your fault. Lord Ishmelga said you can never be wrong—” 

A loud scoff interrupts him. “ Lord? Don’t listen to Ishmelga, he’s just some pathetic bastard taking advantage of you. It’s my fault for letting it happen, you hear me?”

It’s instinct to shake off such an opinion toward Lord Ishmelga, but the words are coming from Chancellor Osborne which he can’t ignore. A headache forms between his eyes as his mind pushes and pulls between what to believe in. 

“Gili, language. Our five year old son is right here.”

Unfortunately, the damage appears to have been dealt. The child only raises his arms and happily cheers, “Bastard~! Haha!”

Kasia—the strange woman—cups her hands over the child's ears and hisses. “I swear, when the real you dies, I'm going to kill you again!” 

Because he’s not sure what to think, he shifts the topic of conversation. “So, you admit that you're not real.”

They both turn to look at him with eyes heavy with regret, with shoulders burdened with the weight of the world. The chancellor is the one to speak first. “It's difficult to define. Despite the logic that one person can't be in two places at once, that doesn't mean that the things that happen here aren't real. We are in a place beyond Zemuria’s rules after all.” 

“Real or not, that doesn’t mean that anything here matters.” 

Again, Kasia—the strange woman—addresses him with patience. “True. Still, you can’t deny that you’re experiencing this. It is up to you whether you take your experience here to heart or not. The only intention of this place is to help you understand the truth.”

Gesturing to parents that can’t be his and to a child that can’t be him, he says, “I think this place is just making me more confused.”

Kasia—why is the name so easy to remember now?—smiles at him. “Your history is a mystery; you don’t know how this, point A, connects to who you’ve become, point B. It's understandable why you’re confused. However, if you choose to dive deeper into this place, I’m sure your confusion will be quelled.” 

“...I’m not sure I want to know more.”

Chancellor Osborne sighs. “If you’re truly as guilty as you believe yourself to be, then you have an obligation to find out what you’ve done wrong, don’t you think?”

And of course, it’s not the desire of finding himself that drives him; it’s guilt. It’s fear of being called a coward in front of his parents the chancellor. “I guess…”

Then, at once, another white door appears in front of them. The boy points at it in awe as the mother and father share a strange look between each other. 

He stares at the door solemnly. “I suppose that’s my cue to go.”

A hand clasps his. He looks up to see that it’s connected to the strange woman, who tilts her head toward the door. “Shall we go?”

“Shouldn’t you stay? It looks like your family here wants you.”

Her hand squeezes his. “Right now, you need me more.”

The boy tugs at his father’s hair and points at them. “Huh? Where are they going? Can’t we go too, Dad?” 

Chancellor Osborne moves him from his shoulders to place him in his arms with a quick ruffling of his hair. He grins. “You’ll be with them soon enough. How about we get some practice fishing lessons so you can beat your Mom for me, huh?”

The boy’s eyes sparkle. “Yeah! I’m gonna be a fishing champion!” He waves at him and Kasia. “Bye Mom! Bye Cool-Me!”

“Bye Sweetie!”

He says nothing as the father and son walk away, eventually fading into the distance. His chest clenches at the sight. This feeling is… Not welcome. 

Before he can drown in his reflections, Kasia tugs his arm. She gestures at the door. “Ready?” 

With a nod, he opens the door and walks through. 

---

 

*Chapter 84 - Strangers with History

The first thing he senses when he steps through the door is a flood of murderous intent. Instinct drives him to draw his blade, only to realize that he doesn’t have one, so he’s forced to step aside as a blade slashes the air at his original position.

“Rean!”

That voice doesn’t belong to Kasia’s. 

He looks down to find his assailant. It’s a boy, the same boy from the previous scene, but some of his features are drastically different. Instead of black hair, it’s white, like the hair that frames his vision. The eyes are also a dull red, like the glow he sometimes catches in his reflection.

If this is a fragment of his past like the other place, this one is certainly more believable.

“Looks like the Kid has finally lost it, cutting at the air for no reason,” says a gruff voice. 

He turns his eyes to look at the other new appearances in this place. One is recognized as Enforcer no. 1 of Ouroboros. The other one is known as the Steel Maiden, one of the Anguis. 

They also appear to look through him and Kasia. 

As if sensing his confusion, Kasia tilts her head and says, “Perhaps this place intends to just observe this scene instead of interacting with it this time.”  

So she says, but the supposed younger version of himself keeps staring at him. Should he even question how the child has come under the care of Ouroboros of all things?

“We don’t know what’s going through his mind after Ishmelga messed with it, so we expected that his behavior would be unpredictable.” The Steel Maiden sends the Blazing Demon a disappointed look. “However, I’m sure being given a knife isn’t going to help with any intrusive thoughts.”

“Hey, that’s Campanella’s work! He can’t stop bragging about his shiny knife collection.”

The Steel Maiden’s ensuing sigh is long and suffering. He can hear Kasia laugh from beside him, but he’s fixated on reading the child. So stoic, so silent. Nothing like the one in the previous scene. 

Why is he like this?

Is it the same reason why Rean is the way he is now?  

Again, he’s faced with dangerous questions. It’s becoming more difficult to shake them off.

“Hey, you can’t deny that it’s helping him improve,” the Blazing Demon shrugs. “It’s small, but he’s beginning to show more signs of humanity than I am.” 

“That, I’m glad for. Even though your methods are questionable, I am thankful for you, McBurn.” 

“Eh, don’t mention it. I ended up learning more about myself from this small fry of a kid than I would’ve ever imagined. I guess there can be perks to things unrelated to fighting once in a while.” The Blazing Demon crosses his arms and leans against the wall. “When the Kid’s all better, do you plan to keep raising him?” 

The Steel Maiden remains quiet as she softly gazes at the child. The child continues staring at him warily, but he eventually sits down and closes his eyes. Eventually, his breaths even out. 

“No.” She finally says once she’s certain the child has dozed off. “He deserves to be happy.”

“He seems pretty content with you now.” 

“Allow me to rephrase. If he sticks with me, he will follow me to my grave. He deserves to live on and find happiness in the future.” 

“You really think that? Even after he’s been turned into some blood-thirsty demon kid and might become a threat to society?” 

“If he truly turns evil, then I will strike him down myself. As of this moment though, he’s still looking for himself, so he deserves a future where he finds the answer.” She sends the Blazing Demon a soft, side-long glance. “Same for you.”

“Heh, I didn't come here expecting a pep talk.”

“Even demons shouldn't be excluded from kindness.”

“Man, you're an impossible one to hate, Arianrhod.”

“Did you want to hate me?”

“Nah, but I do want a fight. The Kid’s finally napping, now's the perfect time for a spar.”

A snort of amusement is heard from the Steel Maiden before she picks the boy up and lays him on a cot. Then, she takes up her lance. Before she exits the hut with her companion, she glances back. Her eyes lock on with his and she flashes him a knowing smile. 

Could she..?

The door closes.

He stares at the space left behind them, mulling over the purpose of this short conversation. How has any part of this scene helped him discover himself? The only thing he's learned is that he changed and was placed into someone else's care, but that only brings more questions than answers.

Kasia sighs deeply as she approaches the boy. She sweeps the bangs out of his face. “I owe Lianne a great debt.”

“For taking care of your son?” He still refuses to admit that he is said son, despite the glaring evidence in the room. “Why is he with her instead of you or Chancellor Osborne anyway?”

Her smile is forced. “A terrible scheme forced our family apart. I died and Giliath had to give you away for the same reason Lianne refused to raise you for too long.”

He watches her drape a blanket over the boy, carefully tucking him in without waking him up. “I see you care for him deeply.”

“Of course,” Kasia says, brushing the boy’s bangs out of his face before turning back to face him. A wistful light reflects from her lilac eyes. “I love you dearly, Rean.” 

There’s a strong urge to look away. To say he doesn’t deserve this. But… They’re right. Declaring that he deserves something without knowing what he has done is foolish. It’s easy to deny the truth in a place that’s far from reality, but it’s hard to ignore that nothing here has felt wrong. His thoughts may have been dulled by the mask, but his senses are sharp enough to see through a facade. 

And there is no facade here. None but himself. 

If he keeps denying the truth, well… What does he even gain from that?

He takes a few steps toward Kasia, getting close enough for the back of his hand to brush against her fingers. “I still won’t call you mom.”

It hurts that that is the only way he can respond to her declaration of love. It doesn’t matter that Kasia doesn’t seem to mind; it’s the opposite, actually. A blinding smile shines from her face. 

It quickly morphs into a pout as she nudges his arm with her elbow. “You can’t call me mom but you can call the scum that ruined you Lord?”

Regret clings to his shadow. “Despite how this place is making it clear that He is the reason for my— the child’s drastic change, it can’t change the fact that I’ve stayed loyal to Him for a year and a half and fulfilled his requests without hesitation. I knew that Lord Ishmelga was evil from the start. I knew that yet I still helped Him because I thought I would be alone otherwise.”

“That’s not your fault. He made you believe that.” 

“Still, I’m complicit. Even if this place convinces me to betray him… Even if there really are people like you waiting for me to return, it feels like my place is to drag Him down to Gehenna with me.” 

Her hand reaches out to squeeze his. Her voice is full of sadness. “Even without your memories, you’ve taken after your dad a bit too much. It doesn’t hurt to be a little selfish.”

“It’s hard to be when I don’t have much I can want. If I don't have Him… If you're dead, if the Steel Maiden and… my father… have reasons for letting me go, then where else can I go? Who in their right mind would take me in after I've done so much wrong?”

A flash of white light suddenly overtakes the area. After a few seconds, the light fades and a familiar door stands in front of them.

“I think you've asked yourself the same question as before,” Kasia says, rubbing soothing circles into his palm with her thumb. “And I think you're underselling the good that still lies within you.”

Dejectedly, he looks down. “What good?”

She doesn't say anything, instead only festering toward the door with a smile. 

He sighs and steps forward.

 

 —-

 

Ishmelga is… unstable. After forcefully taking over this body after its “suicide” attempt, there has been this constant haze of static screeching at him from the back of his mind. It's so bothersome, so maddening. It's a miracle his other half was capable of even a single independent thought.

Even as he drifts in the realm of unconsciousness, his annoyance grows. It grows and grows and grows until control of his arm is tangible and uses it to slam his fist on whatever he's laying on.

Steel meets his fist and pain finally displaces his mind from dream to reality.

“HOW DARE YOU HIT MILORD—”

“Duvalie, peace. He didn't mean to.”

There’s grumbling in the background, but the only sound that matters to him is the one that belongs to the golden-haired woman. In the chaos of being destroyed, twisted, and erased, only one memory had been spared because it solely belonged to him and not the other. 

Her voice is exactly like he remembers. Likewise, her visage appears unchanged by time. He would assume he’s reliving a memory if not for the fact that he is no longer in the body of a child. 

A strange feeling is being squeezed from his chest. 

“Lianne…” His voice is so raspy. He always feels weak in this body.

“Oh? You know my name?”

“Yes.” He just wants to curl into her warmth, but he rises to sit next to her instead. “Do you know mine?”

The solemn silence is enough of an answer. It’s expected, but it reminds him of the loneliness that follows him everywhere. Looking down, he sighs.

Until he remembers the scars hidden beneath his sleeves. 

“Who knows. This body is just full of lost memories.” 

He keeps his eyes pointed at the ground, distantly aware of how she’s carefully observing him. 

“Do you have a scar on your lower abdomen?” He thinks back to the time he held a knife and plunged it through skin. Where… “On the… left side?”

She says nothing. However, judging by the way her body tenses, he’s confident that he’s correct. Lianne has always been honest even in her silence. 

“I don’t know if you remember how you got it, but I just want to say I’m sorry.”

His eyes close. The voices that had struck mayhem in his mind that day are clear as day. 

.̵̢̰͈̱̩͓͑.̶̨͇̳̻̝̬͓̻̺̰̹͙͓̫̪̓̄́̋́͘ͅ    .̷͙̮̗̟̥̓͒̈́̄́̈́̍̄̌̐̾̓̾̐̓̄̈́̇̐͋̉̈͆͘̚ͅ   .̷̮̕ ̷͇͔͈̫̣̂̍͗̎  “What is this warmth?” .̸̛̟̻̳̝͉̘͐̀̅̔͊̿̈́͘   .̷̨͈͍͙̪͂͠͠   .̶̜̰̝̺͍̰̘̭͌̀̌̔́̃̕͝

“I was scared.” 

  .̷͙̮̗̟̥̓͒̈́̄́̈́̍̄̌̐̾̓̾̐̓̄̈́̇̐͋̉̈͆͘̚ͅ   .̶̜̰̝̺͍̰̘̭͌̀̌̔́̃̕͝ “This light?” .̷̡̩̣̠̣̪̹̥̖̼̳̳͍̭̠̖̰̐̑́̈́̓̒   .̸̢̠͓̭̓̀̌͝   

He's still scared.

“Get it away from me.” .̴̱̩̭̊́͌͆̊̀̉̂͘   .̴̡̢̝͙͚̳͔̥͈̼̮͛͌̇͋̔̓̊̏̄̎̏̔͋̕͜͠    .̴̢̡̦̣͔̗͎̲̣͈̥͙͉̱̲̙̥͓͖̘͍̤͊

“But, it’s because of you that I’m not tormented by eternal hatred anymore. It’s… nice… not being angry and empty all the time. So… Thank you. And sorry for stabbing you back then.”

There’s a moment of silence.

“YOU DID WHA—”

Before he can face the wrath of Lianne’s dutiful knight, his vision is blocked by blonde hair and his body is pulled into a warm embrace. His soul is in chaos and a wave of static is always waiting for an opportunity to crash down on him, but in this one moment, he can find peace. 

“Heh, what’s this for? For all you know, I’m just a rambling stranger.” 

His words only make her squeeze him tighter. Her voice is a wistful breeze.

“It’s strange. You are a stranger to me, but I feel like I’m holding a son I never had.”

A chill sparks through his veins, but it’s not unwelcome. 

“Is that so…” he mutters as he soaks up what may as well be true, unconditional love. The lower part of his face feels strange. He ignores it. “What are you doing here anyway?”

Her chuckle is very soft. It makes him feel light. “Will you believe me if I say we were simply strolling by?” 

He cocks an eyebrow at her, unimpressed. “Really? Strolling by a lake in a forest in the middle of nowhere?” 

“Hey, sound more grateful that m’lord saved your punk ass!”

Duvalie’s comment is ignored as Lianne simply smiles at him. “Do you believe this place is untraveled?” 

He narrows his eyes. Truth be told, he doesn’t know where he is. He doubts his other half would have chosen any specific lake to drown in, just one that’s convenient and away from prying eyes. However, he does sense an odd elevation of the higher elements here while the fire element is unusually prominent.

He’s not familiar with the geography of Erebonia anymore, but one thought crosses his mind. 

“This is the forest that hides the witches.” he says, less like a question and more of a confident guess. 

Lianne nods. “I’m here because an acquaintance told me of a history I have no recollection of, so I came here to consult a friend about it. We happened to see you jumping into the lake.” She moves to pick something up from the ground before placing it into his hands. At touch, it feels solid, cold, and metallic. It’s his mask. “Though I think, after meeting you, I understand what has been ailing me lately.” 

He scoffs, though he feels no contempt. “You’re so quick to believe someone who’s been erased by the world.” 

“I’ve faced similar enigmas in this world. I believe even my continued existence falls into the category of unbelievable.”

“Then, what do you intend to do now that you know mine?”

“That depends on your intentions.” 

“To break my curse and be remembered.”

Then, leave his fate to his other half. If he chooses to kill Ishmelga, then they both die. If Ishmelga wins, then they end up in a never-ending cycle of self destruction.

It's hopeless no matter what Lloyd Bannings says, but the last thing he wants is to die a pathetic loser.

Lianne stares at him, calculating. No doubt someone as perceptive as her can catch a glimpse of his hopelessness. He looks down and awaits her judgement. 

“Hmph, for someone who claims to have had their identity erased, you seem to have a clear sense of self.”

That’s not her voice. Too distracted with his reunion with Lianne, he never noticed the arrival of a new presence. Turning his head up, he sees a blonde girl sit on the branches of the trees. Despite her youthful appearance, he can sense immense power radiating from her. 

He only relaxes slightly when Lianne appears to recognize her. “Roselia.” 

Ah, the witch, kin of fire, and leader of the Hexen Clan. 

Roselia’’s response is to jump from where she’s perched and tackle Lianne. To her credit, Lianne is unfazed by the sudden attack and simply catches her before they hug. “Lianne, how the heck can both of you survive into this era and never bother to contact me, whom you’re aware is basically immortal! Idiots! Both you and Dreichels!”

This is the first time he has ever witnessed Lianne look so lost for words. “I can’t speak for Dreichels, but I thought it best to not burden you. Especially when you have responsibilities toward your clan and family.”

“Burden me?! Have you forgotten that we literally fought through a war together and are now on the cusp of a greater one! How could I not be bothered?! Has all that steel corroded your brain, Lianne!” Roselia hisses before pulling Lianne back into a tight hug. “Seriously, I missed you. A second farewell is going to break my heart, but I’d prefer that than to lose time we could spend together.”

There's a wistful smile on Lianne’s face as she rubs the witch’s back. “I see your feistiness hasn’t taken away from your sentimentality.” 

“Hey, I have an excuse. I live way longer than you humans, so I have to hold onto sentimentalities before they erode with time,” she pouts before narrowing her eyes at the other guest. “Anyway, who’s this? He reeks of Erebonia’s curse.” 

He huffs. “Do you suppose that a quick bath in your famous hot spring will help wash away my awful scent?” 

“Hey, show some manners to your elders!”

Lianne coughs loudly into her fist to grab both of their attentions. “This is someone whose name has been lost to the world.”

“Just call me Ishmelga.”

“Terrible choice of a name.”

“Peace, Roselia. I suspect that he is Gilia— Dreichel’s son.”

“WAIT WHAT?!”

Hmph, impressive. Even with her memories of him being fragmented due to his whole existence leaving a gaping hole, she can still piece together what little information she has. He doesn’t know if this a testament to her steel mind or to how closely she has followed Dreichel’s reincarnation.  

“That part is irrelevant.” It's not like he sees himself as that man’s child, nor does he even know if Giliath Osborne himself is aware that he has a son. “My identity has been erased by some curse. Since you’re here, do you have any thoughts on how to undo it?”

Roselia hums, studying him as she peers directly into his eyes. “Like I said before, for someone who claims to have had their identity erased, you oddly seem to have a clear sense of self. There’s something you’re neglecting to say, and I can see it clearly.”

He clicks his tongue. It’s always such a struggle talking around people who are too perceptive for their own good.  

“You got me there,” he crosses his arms defensively, as if to shield himself from her prying eyes. No doubt she has an ability to perceive souls, being the kin of fire and all that. “You may consider me leftovers of Ishmelga’s power which has been transplanted into this body. To my knowledge, I've occupied the shadow of this body for a long time.”

“How curious. If that's true, then why are you interested in restoring your host’s identity? Don't you want to take advantage of having your own body?”

It’s clear that Roselia has her own biases toward Ishmelga. He doesn’t blame her. 

“I don’t care about having my own body autonomy. I don’t care about interacting with the world. I don’t even care about what happens to this world or to the people in it. I just want…” Inner peace. “...I remember feeling content when my other half and I co-existed. I would prefer to return to that arrangement.”

“You act quite differently compared to your namesake.” 

“Oh please, I identify more with the person I can’t even remember. Ishmelga is just a placeholder until my real name comes back.” 

“Still, you can’t pretend to be something you aren’t. You especially can’t escape something like Ishmelga’s nature.” 

“Hmph. Watch me.”

Roselia sneers at him, clearly displeased with his aloofness. “Look, I believe you when you say you want to undo your host’s curse. What baffles me, however, is that you’re not even aware that you yourself are the cause of the curse's prolonged effects.” 

That gives him pause. He would be aware of that, wouldn’t he? He wouldn’t be going through all this effort to get rid of this ridiculous curse if he could just make it vanish with the snap of his fingers.

“What do you mean?” 

“Despite how much Ishmelga craves for godhood, he can't escape a very mortal fear: The fear of death. I think, subconsciously, you're keeping the curse alive because, if your other half is revitalized, you will cease to exist.”

“Me? There’s no me, we’re supposed to be the same anyway. Unless you’re talking about my part as his power. But, I don’t see how restoring him will make Ishmelga’s power go away.” 

“Do you not understand what you are? Perhaps you were before, but you are not some mere power anymore. You have your own desires, your own opinions, and your own mind. Most importantly, you’ve made decisions by yourself which impact the real world, further reinforcing your own existence. You have your own soul now, separate from your other half. A human body cannot contain two souls, or else it turns into an abomination reflecting the discord of having two souls. I suppose you’ve been fine so far since your other self is so weak right now, but once you rekindle it, someone is going to have to be rejected.”

So, he doomed himself the moment he decided to take action. The moment he thought me and my other half instead of we, he was doomed. 

This is why he hates Aidios. All blessings are curses in disguise when it comes to him. 

“You’re basically seeing that if I go through with my plan, I will never see the fruits of my labor.” 

“Yes, essentially.” 

As a habit, he pulls on the bandages on his arms, reminding him of the scars there. “Self sacrifice is not in my nature…” 

A blatant lie. Yet, he doesn’t know why he tells it. 

“Then I suppose you should give up your mission to restore your other self.”

That’s not even an option. If he lets go of that mission, he will lose his purpose for living. He can’t get what his other half had. He doesn’t have the kindness or humanity to form genuine connections with other people. His personality is too biting and isolative for that, yet he still yearns for those connections regardless.

And even if he tries, he can’t get those old connections back without his other half.

Hmph. Die without getting what he wants or live for no reason. Doomed if he does, doomed if he doesn’t. He’s tired of every path heading toward a guillotine. 

He lets out a frustrated breath. It would be nice if he could stab something right now. Speaking of which, his sword is lying on the grass beside the lake. He should probably grab that. 

Ignoring the burning stares of all the women present, he reaches down to grab his sword. It’s then that he sees his image reflected from the lake, and this is the first time he’s ever seen his reflection since waking up in the Black Workshop. 

The long ashen hair is no surprise, but his eyes… Golden irises and black sclera. Not to mention the faint traces of cursed power crawling up his neck. It’s so ugly. 

He looks like a monster. Granted, he looks way better than Ishmelga’s true form, but trash is still trash. What place does he have in this world?

 

—-

 

He's left to ponder that ridiculous question as he leaves them and returns to his original schemes. To make up for all the bad news, Roselia at least did him a favor. Standing in an area rich with spirit veins, he reaches his hand out.

“Heed my call… Valimar.” 

Within seconds, a pulse of energy reverberates through the area, the force strong enough to cause some of the trees to be pushed back. Leaves fly and scatter, temporarily blinding him with the flash of light emerging from the spirit veins.

When the leaves fall back down and the light fades, he finds the Divine Knight kneeling before him. It’s quite an impressive sight; this is the first time he has bothered to make contact with Valimar, not wanting to complicate matters further and make his other half suspicious. However, now that he’s more uncertain of the future than ever before, he doesn’t really give a damn anymore.

The mechanical eyes light up. “You look unharmed, Awakener. I was growing concerned when I noticed your vitals dropping?” 

“I have vitals? Aren’t I dead?” He’s genuinely surprised. He never actually considered that part of his body was still technically alive. 

“While you have no pulse, the rest of your vitals typically remain within normal limits,” Valimar dutifully responds before tilting his head. “That aside, you do not appear to be yourself, Awakener.” 

“I’m not,” he shrugs. “You remember your time with Dreichels, correct? I’m sure you noticed he was plagued with some otherworldly disease back then. To make things simple, let’s just say that’s technically me.”

“...Ishmelga?” 

“Yes, I’m a fragment of him, but that’s besides the point. I just want you to dig into your secondary contracts. Can they still be activated?”

“Affirmative. As long as both my Awakener and the secondary contract agree to it. I imagine it is similar to the ARCUS combat link, though the strength of the link has to be somewhat higher for activation to be successful.” 

Hmph, so if he pilots Valimar, it’s possible that this special feature of Valimar’s will be useless to him. 

“May I ask what the purpose of your question is?” 

If he remains silent, he doubts Valimar will complain. However, he does have a strange fondness for the Divine Knight. Like how Altina has tried her best to stay by his side, Valimar has tried his best to support the Ashen Saint despite his spatial limitations. Such loyalty should be rewarded. 

“I imagine this is sudden, especially since you are meeting me for the first time, but the fate of your Awakener is apparently in my hands. Either I sacrifice myself to break his curse, or I keep the curse and let him remain forgotten until the true Ishmelga dies.” 

“So, you’re trying to figure out what your decision will be.” 

“Yes, and it shouldn’t be a difficult decision,” he lies. “I’m a simple being. I’m spiteful and angry, so I’m going to choose the path that guarantees Ishmelga’s demise, whether it’s by my hands or his. Since you’re one of the weaker Divine Knights, I can only see victory if all the secondary contracts are utilized properly, which means it’s more practical for me to just vanish and let the other me take the reins.” 

Valimar lowers his head. “Are you certain this is what you want?”

“Apparently, the only thing I want that the world is capable of giving to me is Ishmelga’s death. So yes, this is the decision I can most want. Actually, I guess this was what I always wanted: For us to return to normal. I just forgot that… I used to be nothing in that arrangement,” he scoffs and turns away. 

“Do you not want to try to find another path?” 

That gets a bitter snort out of him. “Aidios isn’t kind enough to bless me with a better path. I’m just supposed to be a fragment of power anyway, no one would miss me. Anyway, you should be happy. If all works out, you’ll get your Awakener back soon. At least it’s possible for him to get what he wants when he remembers what those wants are.”

Somehow, he senses disapproval coming from what should just be a robot.

 

—-

 

With Valimar’s help, he’s able to track Alisa down in Heimdallr. When he drags her into some random back alley and wakes her from her trance, she's oddly silent. And she's so slow taking his mask off, acting as if all his bones will break if she's not so careful.

Then, she doesn't even tinker with the mask as she usually does. She just stares at him, unflinching even when he grits his teeth in impatience. 

“Is there something wrong with you?”

Her frown deepens.

“Did you know that we used to know each other?”

He mirrors her narrowed eyes. “Oh? What brought this on?”

“We dug your grave. The corpse is a doll that looks like you. It made us realize…” She pulls out her ARCUS and shows him the screen, revealing a class photo. He can recognize all the faces except the one belonging to a boy with black hair. “...that you've been in our memories this whole time.”

Steel rings in the air as he unsheathes half his blade to look at his reflection. He can see the resemblance, but the more damning evidence is that this sword—which feels so natural in his hands—is also attached to the boy's hip in the picture.

It's one thing to have made a theory about the erasure of his other half's existence based on his fragmented memories, it's also one thing to hear Altina tell him about his history, but it's a completely different thing to see proof right before his eyes. He should feel vindicated. Instead, he feels wistful.

An odd feeling.

“I found out the truth a few months after our first meeting.”

“Why didn't you say anything?”

“Don't be mistaken. The friend in your lost memories is not me. I’m just a parasite keeping its host alive so I can reap the benefits later,” he says despite how this is no longer valid. “The bonds he once formed with you are not relevant to me.”

Alisa continues to stare at him in silence, her constricted expression not betraying the way he can see gears turn in her head. “That’s why you prefer to be called Ishmelga instead of the Ashen Saint. Because you’re two different entities. But then… Why call yourself Ishmelga specifically? I thought he was with Osborne.” 

“Ishmelga is not human. The majority of him can haunt the chancellor while a piece of him can haunt this body.” 

“Yet, you sound like you’re different from the one with Osborne.”

“Astute observation, but I’m not obligated to elaborate more about myself to you.” 

“Why not?” Alisa pouts at him. “We’re friends at this point, aren’t we?”

He scoffs. “I never said that. That’s only a delusion you’ve concocted in your head.”

“Oh?” She crosses her arms and sends him a deadpan. “Yet who was the one clinging onto me just to quote-on-quote feel something?”

“That was merely a moment of weakness.”

“Ha, weakness?” she grins at him deviously. “Don’t deny it. Remember when I said that I wanted to prove that bonds can transcend memory? I think you proved that for me.” 

“It’s sheer coincidence.”

“Uh-huh, suuuuuuure~”

He clicks his tongue. “Whatever. Just do your thing with the mask like you usually do. With one more adjustment, it should stop interfering with my mind.” 

Alisa hums while she turns away from him. She glances at him from the corner of her eye. “Sure, I’ll do it. On one condition.”

“You’re so childish.”

“Says you!”

He sighs and takes his fingers down his face. Dealing with humans is so frustrating. “Fine, what is it?”

“I want you to admit that we’re friends. And I want you to rely on me like one.” 

“Aren’t I already relying on you to terminate the functions of this damned mask?”

“You could do more,” Alisa mutters with a glare. “Now that Class VII knows that we used to be friends, you could go to us for help. Heck, you could go to the Church to erase my stigma so we can face them together if you need a hand.” 

He huffs. “My plans have already been made. There’s nothing to gain from working with the rest of your people.” 

He definitely doesn’t want to be given a reason to stay. 

“Really? You don’t think there’s anything to gain from having the might of eleven people on your side?” 

“My plan doesn’t need the help of eleven people.”

Her sharp ruby eyes cut into his. “You sound like you just want to avoid them.”

Another astute observation, but he won’t praise her for it this time. He turns away from her as she takes out her toolkit to tinker with the mask. He closes his eyes and counts how many times he can hear a tinkle and click from her adjustments. 

“You know…” She speaks up again after a few minutes. “I still don’t really understand this business between you and your other half, but I just want to say that… I can’t help but get the feeling that you’re the type to avoid others so you don’t burden them.” 

Such a ridiculous trait belongs to his other half alone.

“The feelings you get are absurd.”

“Maybe…” 

More tinkers and clinks are heard as several minutes pass by without a word. Eventually, the sounds stop and Alisa hands the mask over to him. Her eyes don't hide her worry for him.

A voice—his own raspy voice—cuts through the doubt in his mind. 

“It went beyond my expectations, but I… don’t disapprove. Even if it came with sacrifice, it is nice… to finally understand what love feels like.”

He clicks his tongue in annoyance. He doesn’t even remember the context of that conversation, but it feels right to believe that it had been a response to his other half.

He hates the world. He hates the goddess. He hates Ishmelga, and he hates himself. It’s so much easier just hating everything, but it’s hard to hate someone who has helped him since the day he was forced to wake up in this awful world. 

Hm, he wonders if she would miss him if he ends up being the one who disappears. 

“I say this reluctantly, but I won’t deny that we’re friends.” He can practically hear her eyes roll. “And, if your friends can prove themselves, then I will consider relying on them for help.” 

Optimism ignites in her eyes. It’s not a terrible look. “Prove ourselves how?”

“By finding out my name. My true name.” 

The sparkles don’t leave her eyes. How fortunate she is for being so ignorant. She wouldn't react like this if she knew it’s impossible to recover a lost name. 

The illusion of hope.

“I’ll let Altina pass on my challenge to your friends. Eventually, I’ll approach the whole class and let them guess. If they win, this will be the last time you fade out. Okay?” 

She frowns at him. “Can’t you at least help me undo this stigma now?”

“You’re a double-edged sword, Alisa. No doubt, you’ve already told Black Alberich about Old Class VII’s discovery. They’re sure to keep a closer eye on them and you. For now, it would be best to cast no suspicion about how you’re already compromised by letting you act as they expect you to for now. It’s best to play it safe until the time comes.”

“That time being?”

“A couple of weeks.”

Her face scrunches up, obviously mulling over his words. Eventually, she nods with determination and holds her hand out to him. “Sounds like a deal.”

He eyes her hand warily. If they’re capable of pulling off a miracle, this deal will be his death sentence. 

…It’s pathetic how hesitant he is about this after he supposedly made up his mind during his conversation with Valimar. He’s already putting someone else’s life at stake with his plan, it’s only lame to not be willing to risk his. There isn’t even supposed to be a him, so this should be a non-issue. 

Yet he can’t escape from the fear of death. Curse Ishmelga for being so pathetic, curse him for being related to such a waste of space. They’re better off dead without being given any mercy!

Without wasting another second, he reaches out for Alisa’s hand and shakes it. Firmly. 

“Don’t let me down, Class VII.” 

Chapter 85 - Forward, Relentlessly

After their discovery at the cemetery, Old Class VII separate and go their own ways to dig up more information on their missing friend in their respective ways. Crow finds himself on a train heading toward Leeves, accompanied by none other than Class VII’s resident Ironblood.

“AH! NO! This game is stupid!”

Millium’s cream of frustration is background noise, and he barely registers how she fights with herself on whether or not to throw the ARCUS out of the window. On the screen is the familiar “LOSE” screen of Pom Pom Party. 

As amusing as it is, he’s too focused on the screen of his ARCUS, scrolling through pictures that everyone’s sending through the group chat. There’s still too many emotions to unpack from the revelation that a close friend has literally been erased from existence. Said friend being the Ashen Saint, the guy he’d been passive aggressive with due to his absolute loyalty to Osborne. 

Absent-mindedly, he lightly taps the dumb 50 mira coin against the window, not caring if it leaves behind any scratches. How is it that he remembers his first meeting with the Ashen Saint so clearly, but can barely remember the face of a companion he’d gone to school and war with? 

His eyes linger on his own dumb, goofy smile. Even without the memories, he now understands why regret clung onto him like sludge since the end of the war. It wasn’t only because he was thrust into a role he hates and curses with every waking moment. It was because he was grieving and was never allowed to fucking process it. 

It makes him so angry that the world found another way to bleed him dry. Forget just taking away his grandfather and revenge, it just had to take away his memories and grief too, huh? It’s so… frustrating. 

Confusion, guilt, grief, anger and yearning seemed to have wrapped themselves into one big package ready to blow up in his face at any moment. It’s criminal to be forced to deal with so many contradicting emotions and he considers just bashing his head against the window to stop feeling. The one that ends up prevailing is dread though.

Dread that, when they reunite with whoever is beneath the Ashen Saint’s mask, they’ll have to deal with the fact that he’s still dead and will end up perishing for good when whatever is keeping him alive decides to kick the bucket. 

He will take this to his grave, but he’s… scared.

If his memories truly are fragments of the past, then he’s not ready to deal with loss again. He’s sick of losing people he cares about. First, his grandfather, then Vulcan and G, and now some guy he was apparently intimate with a year ago? Aidios, give him a break. 

He doesn’t want to go through this again. 

Yet, he wants to remember. 

Oh, fuck him. He can never win. 

“NO! I LOST AGAIN!” 

Crow rubs his thumb against the smooth surface of the coin as he stares at Millium’s reflection in the window. 

“I’m surprised you’re in the mood to play that right now.”

Millium snickers, any hint of her frustration gone in an instant. “Well, I’m playing with Altina right now, distracting her so that she won’t have time to escape when we surprise attack her!”

“You think she’ll try to avoid us?” 

“She always tries to escape when I pounce on her for a hug.” 

He doesn’t need to be a psychic to know why. Her hugs have crushed his lungs one too many times. He leans back with a sigh. “I wonder how much she can know, considering this guy has been wiped from everyone’s memory.” 

Though, that begs the question of how he got under Osborne’s employment. Actually, the real question is how the reputation of the Ashen Saint hasn’t been erased from existence, while the person beneath the mask has. 

“You know, Altina asked me a weird question a long time ago,” Millium says, eyes glued to the screen as a new Pom Pom Party game starts. “She asked me how I would feel if I forgot something. I said I’d feel sad even though I didn’t know how that felt but it kinda feels like I have before but I don’t know why, if that makes any sense.”

Not really, but he motions for her to continue. 

“I said I might have amnesia or whatever. Looks like I was spot on!” 

“How did she respond?” 

“Eh, she kinda just looked at me weirdly like she usually does and never brought it up again. BUT WAIT A MINUTE! Lechter also asked me if there was a student in Thors who used one of those tachi things! Does that mean he knows too?”

That only makes it suspicious why people working for Osborne seem more resistant to whatever this curse is. Does that mean the Ashen Saint himself knows about his situation? Did he want to be forgotten?

He shakes his head. Useless conjecture will only continue to make his thoughts and feelings spiral. He’ll make his conclusions once he gets a more solid understanding of what’s even going on with the Ashen Saint. 

 

—-

 

They find Altina eating pancakes in the tavern. 

“I FINALLY WON!” Millium cheers loudly as she finally wins a game of Pom Pom Party. Which completely ruins her plan for a surprise attack because Altina startles in her seat and turns to face them with an unimpressed frown. Millium just laughs at her expression. “Hehe, miss me?”

“We saw each other this morning.”

“Still!”

Before Millium can sweep the conversation back into her pace, Crow coughs into his fist. “Altina, mind coming with us to speak in private? We have something to ask you.” 

A suspicious glint passes in her green eyes, but she nods in compliance. They end up going to the room of the school’s dormitory. 

There's a slight breeze up here. The bright, starry sky is the perfect backdrop for interrogation. Millium is the one who starts.

“Soooo, any chance you know where the Ashen Saint is?” 

“No. He has not even hinted anything about his whereabouts.”

Honestly, that answer was expected, but it didn’t hurt to try. Of course it wouldn’t be that easy.

With a nonchalant shrug, he steers the conversation toward something more likely to be productive. “How much do you know about the Ashen Saint's past?”

Altina just stares at them in silence, showing no intention of answering their questions. Just as Crow and Millium share a glance that means Plan B, they hear a soft jingle. It rings from Altina’s ARCUS.

She opens her ARCUS briefly, eyes skimming down the screen before closing it.

“It seems that you're already aware of your past with the Ashen Saint.”

It’s concerning how Altina has a contact that has already updated her about their situation. Actually, it should be impossible. Only old Class VII and that old cemetery manager were present when they opened that grave. Was that old dude a spy? 

Or is someone else keeping tabs on their class?

“We only know bits and pieces,” Millium says. “We know he was in our class and we were close friends. Oh, and that he’s supposed to be dead, but he’s not for some reason? That’s about it though.” 

The tension in Altina’s posture relaxes. The suspicion in her eyes fades away. “I understand why you want more information, but what are you going to do with it? Simply knowing his background will not break his curse.” 

“So it is a curse, just as Emma guessed,” Crow mutters. “How did he get stuck with it in the first place when he's supposed to be dead?

“I have no permission to explain how he’s still alive, but I can explain the curse in more detail. How much do you know about Ishmelga?”

Crow flinches, suddenly struck by a sharp pain shooting through his head. 

“Basically, each Divine Knight is influenced by mankind. Ishmelga, in particular, is influenced by the worst aspects of humanity, and desires to become a god through acquiring the Great One. He's actually the one who helped trigger the war of the lions and the tragedy of Hamel, and he's going to keep influencing more tragedies until he gets what he wants.”

Right… During the Civil War, they talked about this Ishmelga thing. His memory tells him that Emma explained this to them, but his gut says otherwise. A fragment of a memory reminds him that Emma was just as equally as confused as he was during the explanation. 

“More or less.” Crow shakes off the memory and the pain. “Basically, he’s a piece of shit Divine Knight who wants to mess up the world.” 

Altina scrunches her face at his summary, clearly trying to judge how much he actually knew about the topic. It’s not an unfamiliar reaction he gets while he’s teaching the class. 

Eventually, she says, “The way he ‘messes up the world’ is through a curse. It can influence people’s thoughts and beliefs. This part is just a theory, but if someone is infected with too much of it, then it can warp their sense of being, losing their identity and form in the process. It also erases their existence from the rest of the world.” 

“That’s one hell of a curse,” he whistles. “So, that’s why the Ashen Saint looks different from our pictures. But, hold on, if no one’s supposed to be able to remember him, how come you do?” 

“We have a theory.” We, huh? She just let it slip that she’s working with someone who knows about the curse. It’s most likely the same one who just texted her. “I can’t exactly confirm whether there are gaps in my memory or not, but the only major component I don’t know related to the Ashen Saint’s identity is his name. However, it’s not because I’ve forgotten it, it’s because I’ve specifically been programmed to never process his name.”

Millium cocks her head in confusion. “Which means?”

“We believe the curse only wipes away memories that have a clear connection to his name. That’s why no one remembers him, while the Ashen Saint’s reputation hasn’t been affected despite how they’re the same person; the two identities were never connected in public. That can also explain why there are rumors of an Ashen Chevalier. It’s spread by people who know of the title but never bothered learning the pilot’s name.” 

“Ohhh, so because you never learned his name, you were able to keep all your memories of him?” 

Altina nods. 

“I can’t imagine there are many people who don’t bother to learn other people’s names. I guess you’re the only one who knows the truth?” And possibly McBurn too, given his reaction to the Ashen Saint in Crossbell.

“I’m not certain, but I wouldn’t rule out other loopholes to the curse. Those he left a big impact on might notice inconsistencies in their memories, enough to look for clues and connect the dots like you all have. He told me that Valimar still has secondary contracts with you all, so he might have figured something out as well.” 

“By he, I assume you mean the Ashen Saint. No one else would be able to know that about someone else’s Divine Knight, so does that mean he’s aware of his own situation?” 

Altina’s mouth pulls down into a frown. “I’m restricted from explaining in full detail, but the one that you normally see is not aware of his past.” 

That implies that there's a side to the Ashen Saint that they don't normally see.

“Who else could you be working with then?”

Altina shuts her lips and turns her head away from them. Looks like she won’t budge on this matter. Crow sighs.

“Fine, will you at least tell us how to break this curse? Do we just have to beat this Ishmelga thing up?”

“We have our own plan that we’re working on and we don’t need any more help on that end.” Her posture deflates, eyes now looking down, somber. She’s really not acting like said plan is a good plan. “But… It seems like figuring out his name might be helpful. Since the curse focuses so much on his name, then maybe retrieving it will help undo the curse.”

“Eh…” Millium laughs nervously. “So do we just keep guessing names until we find one that feels right?” 

“That’s up to you.”

…

Later that night, they call everyone in Old Class VII and use the orbal net and go to a name generating site. 

“Ohhh, I'm really feeling this one!” Millium pumps her fist. “How about Irene?”

They all look at her, unimpressed.

“That's not even close to a guy's name!”

“Yeahhhh, not feeling that one.”

The task ends in failure. 

 

—-

 

“Rean!” 

The wind is knocked out of his lungs as something heavy crashes into him. He lets go of Kasia’s hand so he doesn’t drag her down with him—though would she even be affected since she’s dead? Shouldn’t he be unaffected since he’s dead?

He groans, eyes slowly adjusting to the darkness of the starry night sky. His attention is then drawn to the girl who tackled him down to the floor. Her eyes are gold and her hair is turquoise. She… She’s one of the Ironbloods, right? What’s her name again..?

“Who are you?” he asks even though her name begins to echo in the back of his mind. 

Millium

His ears ring when her voice squawks for help. “Oh my gosh, did I give you amnesia?! I’m so sorry, I was just making sure you didn’t fall off the roof again!” 

He stares at her incredulously before looking around for Kasia. They appear to be on a school rooftop and… he can’t find her. There’s no one else around. 

His chest squeezes. Ah… It’s this feeling again. Anxiety.

A voice in the back of his head tells him he’s pathetic for feeling anxious at the presence of his missing mom companion. Unfortunately, he has no time to think about it because this strange girl is shaking him frantically. 

He doubts this is the right protocol for dealing with people with possible head injuries. Then again, he’s dead. So this doesn’t matter. 

“I’m fine,” he says, just to calm this chaotic girl down. 

Crocodile tears comically stream down her eyes. “You know no one believes you when you say that!”

A door slams open. New presences filter onto the rooftop.

“What’s all the commotion?”

The girl turns her head toward the newcomers and wails. “Jusis, help! I broke Rean! He has amnesia!” 

His head throbs when he recognizes the new faces instantly. They’re all friends with the Azure Chevalier. While they look younger than what he remembers, his head screams their names at him. 

“Millium, calm down. I’m sure he’s just disoriented, like everyone usually is after one of your attacks.” — Jusis. 

A girl rushes toward him and kneels beside his head. Light glows from her staff and some sort of healing energy transfers to him. “Does your head hurt?” — Emma. 

“...No.” Well, it does, but he doubts the impact with the floor is the cause. 

“Do you know who we are?” Comes the drawling voice of another girl who slips into his peripheral vision without a sound. — Fie.

He groans and covers his eyes with his arm—right, he still doesn’t have his mask. There’s too many people here. Too many faces. Too many names. His head throbs so much. Is he still in the Nameless Place if he can experience so much pain? Wait, considering how they keep calling him Rean , that must mean that he is.

It seems like this place has put him in a scene drastically different from the previous scenes. 

“You heard the kid, you rascals! Give him space!” — Sara. The others step away while the woman steps forward. Her next words are softer. “Hey, do you know what your name is?”  

“Uh…” He still hasn’t fully accepted that he has a name. 

“What day is it?”

“...” He doesn’t even remember what day it was when he drowned. Plus, does time flow the same in a place outside the world’s rules?

“Where are we?”

A quick surveillance of their surroundings tells him that they’re on a school rooftop. Which school though, he doesn’t know. It’s certainly not the one in Leeves. 

“Do you at least remember what we’re doing here?” 

“...”

“What’s the last thing you remember?”

He snorts. How does he even begin to describe his experiences in this strange place? Does he even have to explain himself to these people? They seem oblivious to the place they’re in anyway. So, just because he doesn’t want to explain more than he has to, he says, “Drowning.” 

He can sense the woman turn around to the rest of the people here. “Yeahhhhhh, he’s completely lost it.” 

“Can we fix it by hitting his head again?” — Laura

“That never works when you try to fix the machines you break, what makes you think it’ll fix his brain?!” — Machias

“Well, do you have a better plan, Macchiato?” — Fie

“HOW ABOUT WE LITERALLY DO ANYTHING THAT WON’T FURTHER DAMAGE HIS BRAIN!” — Alisa

His body flinches as his hands move up to cover his ears. So loud…

“Sorry, Rean.” 

“It’s fine,” he huffs, opening his eyes to see Alisa’s—is that really her name or is his mind messing with him?—eyes full of worry. It’s weird seeing such an emotion directed toward him, so he turns away to shield himself. “What’s the rush anyway? Why do you want my memory back?”

“Uh… I think it’s kind of natural for someone with amnesia to want their memory back?” — Elliot 

“Plus, tomorrow is the day we’ll finally take the Noble Alliance down.” — Gaius

He sits up and shakes his head slightly, choosing to ignore Elliot . “There’s no tomorrow; this place isn’t real anyway.”

“Oh great, he’s delusional now too.”

“I can’t believe even with amnesia, he insists he’s fine.” 

Really, he doesn’t know why he bothered to talk with them since they’re not exactly real and just another thing this place conjured up to help him discover himself. And while he’s more amenable to finding out the truth of his identity, these people are a bit… overwhelming. 

He sends them all an annoyed glare and stands up. Dizziness washes through his head, forcing his right arm to hold his forehead. Still, he doesn’t stumble or lose his balance. That means his physical condition is good enough for him. 

One glance at the exit reveals he’ll have to push past at least eleven of these strange people out of the way. Despite how he’s certain that none of them are real, it feels wrong to just rudely push them. His gaze turns to short fences on the perimeter of the rooftop.

This way is less hassle.

“Hey—”

He pivots and leaps so that one foot lands on the fence. Before any of these strange people can catch him, he jumps with all his might off of the roof. The wind blows wildly against his body as gravity pulls him down. The sensation of falling is familiar.

The sensation almost makes his thoughts stop.

Except—

Alisa Reinford.

Millium Orion. 

Elliot Craig. 

Fie Clausell. 

Laura Arseid. 

Machias Regnitz. 

Emma Millstein.

Gaius Worzel

Jusis Albarea

Sara Valestein. 

Their names won’t give his mind peace. They buzz in his head like flies and he just wants to swat it all away. The sound is worse than the static. 

With a deep breath, his hand catches on a branch which miraculously doesn’t break from the force of his fall. Perhaps that’s another rule this place ignores. 

Using his momentum, he swings from a branch a couple of times before letting go. He feels the wind rush against his maskless face one more time before landing smoothly on the ground. 

Next goal: Find Kasia. This place is too uncomfortable without her…

Just as he decides to follow a beaten path away from this strange school, a presence lands next to him. It’s the guy who hasn’t spoken once on the rooftop, though even silence wouldn’t make him ignore such an uncomfortably familiar face.  

The Azure Chevalier.

Crow Armbrust

He’s greeted with a lazy grin and a wink. “Heh, did you think you’re the only one with this trick?”

“The purpose was to make it clear that I want to be left alone.”

“Whoops, I’m not sorry.” 

These people have no shame. Yet that’s what he loves about them—

Another involuntary groan escapes from him, making him hold his head tighter.

“You sure you don’t wanna bother remembering us?” says Cr—the young Azure Chevalier. “You look in pain fighting it.” 

“Why do you even care?” 

“Man, this takes me back to the old days. I hated when you talked like that.” His heart stops and his chest cramps up for a moment. It shouldn’t hurt to hear that some part of him is hated by this guy. “I guess I shouldn’t be surprised you’d revert to it after losing your memory though.”

All logic tells him that he doesn’t need to respond, doesn’t need to keep this bizarre conversation going. Perhaps it’s curiosity… Or perhaps it’s instinct that compels more words to fall from his mouth. “Talk like what?” 

“Like you don’t matter. Like you’re not important.”

It's a habit to say that that’s right. However, it would be ignorant to agree when this place has shown him so many people looking out for him. He wants to believe it’s not real after being led to believe he has always been nothing since his first memory. 

But…

The names… Their names…

While they’re the source of his pain in this place, he remembered hearing those names in his head when he drowned. As much as he would like to deny or ignore it, seeing their faces before he drowned brought him a small sense of comfort. Just like Kasia does.

He would be blind to deny he doesn’t have at least some sort of connection with these people in this strange place. What timing. Just when he asked who in their right mind would take him in, this place decides to show him these people. Their first impression just screams out of their mind.

Clearly unsatisfied with his silence, the Azure Chevalier asks, “Do you really not want to remember that you aren’t alone?” 

“It’s not that.” He can’t ignore that there’s something deep in the void of his chest that is calling out. Begging him that this is where he wants to be. “It’s just that this is a lot to process. I didn’t expect this many people to care about me. What did I do?” 

“Eh, you may have saved our asses a few times. And, you have a propensity for cheesy, life-changing speeches.”

“So… You see me as some sort of savior?”

The Azure Chevalier elbows his shoulder. “As a friend, dummy. We’ve saved your butt a few times too. We have a mutual butt saving thing going on here.” 

“Sounds more like an alliance to me.”

“What the heck, man? Even without your memories, you sure still love to make things difficult for me, huh.”

He takes a step away from the Azure Chevalier, feeling oddly guilty. “Sorry, it wasn’t my intention—” 

“Ah, enough of that.” The Azure Chevalier waves his hand up as a sign to stop. “Look, an explanation of what we went through is never gonna compare to the experience. I'll let you do the hard work of remembering it. Right now, all you need to understand is that you never gave up on m— us. It’s our turn to never give up on you. It’s as simple as that.” 

For some reason, that’s the most believable thing he has heard about himself since waking up in this Nameless Place. For the first time ever, he wants to see the past, just to see himself in a different light for once. At the same time, however, it only drives more conflict with what he knows. 

It’s becoming more difficult to reconcile with the fact that Lor— Ishmelga took all this away from him.

“Was I… happy?”

A foreign concept he thought eluded him until now. The answer will tell him all he needs to know about his bond with Ishmelga. After everything he did for Him, he can’t remember a moment where he was ever happy.

His hope dims with the Azure Chevalier’s growing silence. For once, his easy-going smile morphs into a frown. Something glimmers in the corner of his eye before a tear is shed. 

“You had your ups and downs, but we had a lot of fun together before you eventually died protecting what you cherished.” The Azure Chevalier turns away and furiously rubs his eye. “You were the only one who was happy that day, bastard.” 

The insult doesn’t hurt at all. It’s clearly coming from a place of grief. It does, however, bring up another question.

“Hold on, how come you’re the only one here who knows I’m supposed to be dead?”

“Eh, I don’t really know. Maybe it’s an Awakener thing.” The Azure Chevalier cracks a fake smile, though nothing about his trembling arms says that he has regained his composure. 

It doesn’t feel right to see the Azure Ch— Crow act like this. Honestly, he has this very strange urge to just… hold him close. Okay, no. That’s weird. He’s not going to do that.

Instead, he settles for reaching his hand out and letting it stroke locks of gray hair, something the Black Rabbit has requested him to do several times. He never really understood the appeal, but it does result in getting Crow to laugh. 

It’s a nice sound.

“You’re really not that different when you’re free from that mask.” There’s a genuine grin on that face now. “I know why you asked me if you were happy before, but I think the more important question you should ask is if you feel better with or without the mask. That should tell you all you want about what you want.” 

The mask lets him feel nothing, which is neither a bad or good thing. Without it, there’s Anxiety— Frustration— Loneliness— Shame— Guilt— Depression— Longing— Calm— Peace— Comfort— Safety— Many bad things. Many good things. The weakness of being human, according to Black Alberich. 

“I’m used to feeling nothing,” he mutters, lowering his hand, lowering his eyes. It would be easier to remain this way, but he can’t help but remember Kasia’s conviction.

“I would rather feel pain than another second of emptiness!”

Those words speak to him so deeply it hurts. It just shatters another one of Ishmelga’s lies. He isn’t nothing, he isn’t—or wasn’t—unwanted, he isn’t alone, and he isn’t meant to be some unfeeling puppet. 

He’s human.

He’s… Rean.

 

After more than a year of brainwashing, after being in denial ever since he woke up in this place, it’s surprisingly so fast how the illusion of Ishmelga being his salvation suddenly fades away. He still doesn’t even have his memories back and still has no proof if there’s any truth to what he learns in this strange place, but two feelings return to him, slotting snuggly in his chest, and they both feel so right.  

Love for what has been lost to him.

Hate towards Ishmelga for making him believe otherwise and using him like a toy. The next time he sees that abomination, he swears he’ll make that bastard pay. 

“Woah!” Crow steps back, giving him a concerned look for some reason. “You’re suddenly energetic.”

“Just plotting a murder.” He glares at the sky full of stars, piecing together as much information about Ishmelga, Black Alberich, and their plans as possible. He knows enough about how to kill him, but actually succeeding is going to be difficult. “I need to leave this place. Where’s the door?” 

“Aw, plotting a murder without me? I feel so betrayed,” Crow dramatically places his hand on his chest to show how betrayed he supposedly feels, but there’s a smirk on his face that says otherwise. “Anyway, the Old Schoolhouse’s door is your ticket out of this scene. I’ll lead the way.” 

They walk down the path, eventually finding themselves in front of an old, massive building. Its front doors, however, stick out like a sore thumb. Unlike the rest of the building which is falling apart, they’re bright white, just like all the other doors he had walked through in this place. 

A feeling of dread suddenly creeps up his skin, his vigor from earlier fading in the face of the unknown future. 

What if he doesn’t have what it takes to take Ishmelga down? What if he falls into his grasp again, forced to continue living as a puppet? 

“Hey, don’t stop now. I know it’s scary, but you can’t grasp the future you want if you waver again.” Crow pats his back reassuringly. His next words have the same weight as Kasia’s, resonating deeply within him. “Go on. Forward, relentlessly.”

After a deep breath, he nods and opens the door. 

 

---

 

Chapter 86 - A Nameless Code

“You seem distracted, Instructor Crow.”

Well, considering how it's been three weeks and no one can agree on what could possibly be their missing friend’s name, he's been feeling maybe a little antsy. Altina hasn’t told them when the Ashen Saint will pay them a visit to quiz them on his mysterious name, but he can sense a deadline approaching.

If they don’t get this right, then… Well, he doesn’t know what they’re going to do. That stuff is more of Emma and Gaius’ forte, and they have yet to update OId Class VII about any findings. The outlook isn’t exactly promising, not gonna lie. 

Thankfully, his students have finally grown mature enough to pick up his slack during this field study at Heimdallr. He can stare into space while Machias’ dad gives them their requests for the day and while Cedric challenges New Class VII to another rivalry. None of this is really important—

“Ah, we meet again, Crow Armbrust. And it’s a pleasure to meet you all, New Class VII.” 

Crow’s blood pressure shoots through the roof as his eyes snap and burn into the new arrival. Old hatred burns him deeply in his core. 

Giliath Osborne. Why the hell is this guy barging in on a quick briefing for Thors Military Academy and Thors Branch Campus?

Unfortunately, Crow’s thoughts are filled to the brim with hatred and questions that his brain doesn’t process a single word that comes out of the man’s lips. Give him a break, it’s hard to focus when his brain decides to daydream an alternate reality where he had actually taken his shot and probably wouldn’t be in the position that he is in now.

When the man finally leaves, his head cools off and Musse tells him that Osborne basically invited them to an upcoming Summer Festival celebration that will be held in Valflame Palace. Passively, he thinks that would be a great opportunity for an assassination attempt, but he knows better than to try again. 

Anyway, the day goes by smoothly. Granted, they did have to play tag with some Calvardian spies until they were eventually captured at the same cemetery where he had dug up a grave a few weeks ago, but that’s just part of the job description at this point. No, the highlight of his day is reuniting with his old classmates again when they take refuge in the Bracer Guild’s branch building. Especially when it appears that Emma has brought a guest.

“Grandmother, please do not use your magic on the oven. You’re only going to end up blowing it up instead of speeding up the process!” 

“Well, what else am I supposed to do while we wait for the rest of your friends? I’m hungry!”

Emma glances at the entrance as Crow closes the front door behind him. “We’re all here now, so you can stop now…!”

“Hmph,” Roselia pouts, catching Crow’s eye before looking back at Emma. “I have to say though, I’m impressed with your colorful assortment of friends. The Azure Awakener and a Dominion? Even her descendent… And now you’re telling me that the Ashen is your long lost friend? Reminds me of my group back in the day.” 

“I don’t know if she looks too young for her age or acts too old for how she looks,” Fie mutters to Machias, but her voice is loud enough for everyone to hear.

“Old? She acts like a kid! It’s definitely the former,” Machias whispers back. “First that Campanella guy and now her? I wonder if immortality makes people regress in their heads.”

“Hey!”

“Believe me, she just likes to act very immature for her age, but she has her moments. Her… very rare moments,” Emma sighs. 

“Nevermind what I said about your friends being impressive! You’ve been corrupted by delinquents!” 

“Alright, that’s enough,” Jusis says. “As much as I’m sure some of us would love to entertain you, we’re here for answers.” 

“So demanding! I swear, kids these days have no respect for their elders,” she huffs and plops herself down on the couch in the middle of the room. “And here I was expecting to be revered, considering you want information on your dear friend and I happened to have been visited by the man three weeks ago.”

Three weeks ago? That’s around the time they found out the truth at the cemetery.

“Grandmother… Why didn’t you tell me about this earlier?”

“In my defense, you said you were looking for information about the Ashen Saint. I didn’t know that the Ashen Saint and Ish— The Ashen Awakener were the same person.” 

“Still, you knew she was looking for someone who had their identity erased from the world,” Gaius points out. “That sounds like a unique case.” 

“Well, believe it or not, it’s not the only case,” Roselia says.  “You all are aware of the Holy Beasts, yes? Each of them guards a Sept-Terrion. The Holy Beast that guards the Sept-Terrion of Earth, however, has been forgotten, even by someone like me. I suspect— No, I know that it’s related to Ishmelga’s curse.” 

Crow frowns. “Since you sound like that Holy Beast is still forgotten, I guess that means you don’t know how to undo the curse.” 

She huffs, as if offended by his insinuation. “It’s not that I don’t know. It’s just that I don’t have the means to realize the solution by myself, nor would I want to in certain circumstances.” 

“What do you mean?”

“Solution number one: Kill Ishmelga.” She shrugs and shakes her head. “Clearly, that’s not as easy to accomplish. So, solution number two: Kill it; or, in this case, kill him.”

“Yeahhhhh, that’s not ideal,” Sara says through grit teeth.

“Um, yeah! Understatement of the century!” Alisa exclaims. 

Roselia snorts. “You’re right, and it didn’t work anyway. I met him after he successfully drowned himself. Death is supposed to release mana, which the curse is tied to, but that clearly didn’t work. Having one’s life tied to a Divine Knight has its perks, I guess.”

Crow has no idea what to say about the revelation that the Ashen Saint attempted suicide. Granted, they know he has a history, but what would drive a guy so fiercely loyal to Osborne to want to end it all?

…Nevermind, he just answered his own question. And Crow thought he himself was doing bad.  Man, they’re going to have to detail people to keep watch on this guy when they get him back.

“So then, what do we do?” Elliot asks while everyone is clearly getting too wrapped up in their own thoughts. 

“Nothing. At this point, it’s all up to the Ashen Awakener. He will have to overcome the curse by  himself.” 

“Nothing? Nah, I’m not gonna sit around and do nothing again,” Crow says. “What about this name business? Altina said that if we find his name, we might be able to break the curse.”

Roselia stares at him, contemplative. “In the realm of the mystical, names do have great power for unstable beings to sustain their existence. However, the curse makes it lost, meaning no one can literally process it. Even if the letters are staring at you in the face, you won’t be able to read it, let alone verbalize it. The only one who can retrieve a lost name is the lost one themselves.” 

“So… We basically wasted the last three weeks looking for a name that technically doesn’t exist,” Sara summarizes.

“Yes.”  

Then why would whoever working with Altina tell them to find his name? Is it to distract them? Mislead them?

Or is it a test?

“Anyway,” Roselia continues. “I didn’t come here just to be the bearer of bad news. I actually have a request for you all, Old Class VII. There’s an otherworldly force brewing in the catacombs underneath what you all call the Imperial Museum. I predict that there will be a dragon there, and I want you to slay it. You may get a piece of what you’re looking for at the end.”

 

—-

 

The next day, Crow leaves New Class VII to their own devices. His little ducklings have grown enough in the past few months that they don’t really need his help for these requests. Not like he was much help yesterday, evident by how he was zoned out through most of the conversations. 

Though, when New Class VII departs with Musse’s twisted grin, Juna’s obviously fake reassuring cheer, and Kurt facepalming, he is suddenly not so at peace. It seems to stem from how Ash is still an edgy loner, but maybe he just needs another nudge from the power of friendship. Aidios knows it worked for half of Old Class VII, including himself. 

“I see you’ve learned from the best,” Sara elbows him teasingly. 

“Only Aidios knows how we survived under your lack of guidance,” Jusis sneers at her before turning to Crow. “And I can’t believe your students have any semblance of respect for you. Knowing you, you’ve probably attempted to rob them all dry.” 

That comment makes him suddenly aware of the fact that he’s twiddling with a certain 50 mira coin in his fingers. 

“Hey, I’ll have you know that I don’t rob from children,” he retorts, ignoring the pointed looks Fie and Millium give him. “And, I’ve already returned most of what I borrowed without permission. The only one left I need to repay is…”

The Ashen Saint. 

Sometimes, it feels like fate is laughing at him.

He shakes the thought out of his head. “Anyway, let’s go slay a dragon and see what kind of reward Roselia has for us.” 

A wave of nostalgia slams onto him when they find an enormous, strange gate waiting for them in the catacombs. With his old classmates here, it feels like they’re living a memory from back when they explored the mysterious Old Schoolhouse. Especially when going through said gate somehow transports them to a different dimension with a giant dragon monster boss in the center of it.

It definitely feels nice not having to bark out orders. Everyone knows how they best contribute to the group as a whole, so no one needs to say a word for Sara and Fie to charge in and weaken the opponent, for Laura, Millium, and Gaius to follow up, break it, and draw its attention away from the others, for Emma to cast her powerful arts, for Jusis to support them with buffs and protection, for Machias to change the flow of the battle, and for Ellliot and Alisa to recharge their stamina and spirits so that they can all go for another round and never give up. 

Heh… And despite it all… It still feels like something is missing. 

It’s actually more prevalent now that the whole class is together. They’re all linked to the partner that supports them the best while Crow is standing in the back, staring at his ARCUS like an idiot. 

It’s hard to forget how in sync he was with the Ashen Saint back when they fought McBurn in Crossbell. Now he knows why.

“Seriously, Crow?” Machias yells. “Now’s not a great time to emulate our old instructor you know!”

“Nah, it looks like you guys are doing just fine. Plus, think about that poor dragon’s feelings! Getting jumped on by eleven people is kinda overkill, don’t you think?”

“If you don’t get your butt here, this lizard isn’t going to be the only one experiencing overkill today!”

He lets out a laugh and lifts his double saber to rest on his shoulder. Sheesh, okay then.

Time to get down to business. 

 

…

 

It takes seven fucking hours to kill that damn lizard. When it finally turns into dust, they’re suddenly taken out of that strange dimension and returned to the catacombs. To no one’s surprise, many collapse to the floor to get a breath of air. 

“That’s it, I’m done,” Millium groans, eyes spinning with her body all crumpled up on the floor. “Wake me up next week please.” 

“Next month for me,” Fie murmurs in agreement. 

“And no more dragons for the rest of the year,” Sara says. “I’m getting too old for this.” 

Laura stares at them, standing calmly while flinging dragon decay from her blade. “Really? I think it would be nice training on a monthly basis.”

“A monster! Just like her father!”

“Stop being so… huff… overly dramatic,” Jusis says, though he’s clearly out of breath. “With everything going on with this country, I doubt that dragon will be the worst that we have to face.” 

“Indeed, there is more yet to come.” 

Everyone flinches at the sound of a new voice, familiar and unfamiliar at the same time. Whipping his head toward the exit, Crow spots a white shadow approaching them, mockingly applauding them for beating the dragon. 

Gaius is the first to respond. “Are you saying that we must fight you next, Ashen Saint?” 

The Ashen Saint huffs and crosses his arms. “It would be in poor taste to strike down old friends while they’re exhausted.”

“Old friends?” Crow asks, fingers tensing. Vaguely, he remembers Altina warning him that the Ashen Saint they normally see is not aware of his past. While that made no sense before, the Ashen Saint’s scathing tone and aloof posture gives him an idea. This is too different from his usual silent and passive self. “So you know your history with us? Why not work with us to break your curse?”

“I’ll consider it, but only if you have the answer to my question.” Even with the mask on, Crow can feel the Ashen Saint’s gaze locked on with his. “What is my name?” 

Millium exclaims, “Hey, that’s mean! You gave us a task that’s apparently impossible to complete! Even Gramps isn’t that mean!”

“Really? I’ve been told that bonds can transcend even memory. If we’re truly as close as you claim to be, retrieving my name should be a simple matter.” 

Crow hears a gasp come from Alisa’s direction. He can’t figure out what’s so shocking though when the silence from his friends grows. With it, his frustration grows. His fingers itch to shoot a gun or something, but his inner Towa tells him to not do that.

Instead, he rests his hand against his hip and lets his fingers pretend to be trigger-happy. 

“Any chance you can give us a hint?” Elliot asks.

“What hint? I don’t even know the answer myself.”

Alisa leers. “Then how do you even know what the right answer is?”

The Ashen Saint smirks. “There is a difference between recognition and recall. If it feels right, I’ll know.” 

“Feeling? Really? That’s what our passing grade is based on?” Jusis groans before turning toward Millium, Crow, Fie, Sara, and Gaius. “Okay people with your absurdly sharp gut feelings, go feel out your best guess.” 

“Uh…”

There’s really nothing to say. Even after nearly a month of brainstorming names, nothing felt right. 

“...”

Their best guess is saying some gibberish no one has ever heard before. 

“...”

If they weren’t so tired, he would consider challenging the guy to a duel with the reward being his capture, but there’s no way he can win in his current condition. Damnit, Roselia said there might be a reward waiting for them after beating the dumb dragon, but there’s nothing rewarding about seeing a ghost slip between your fingers again.

“...”

A haunting laugh rings from the Ashen Saint. 

Great, times up. They failed. 

“Of course that's the only way it would be remembered.” What? Remembered? Why does the Ashen Saint sound impressed with their lack of answer? “Through a made-up language.”

Everyone looks at each other in confusion “Huh?”

The Ashen Saint scoffs at them, now unimpressed. He points to Crow. “Are you not even conscious of what you're doing, Azure Chevalier?”

Uh..? He’s just standing here though?

“I'm… not doing anything?”

A snort. The Ashen Saint swings his hand down from his pockets to rest on his thigh.

“Really? Does this mean nothing to you?”

His fingers tap rhythmically against his pants.

“That?”

Tapping his fingers? That's just a nervous habit he got since the Civil War and hasn't been able to kick. It's no different from how Machias cleans his glasses when they're not dirty or how Elliot wrings his hands behind his back to shake off their nerves. What could possibly—

There's a gasp. Crow's vaguely aware it came from Machias.

His eyes narrow at the Ashen Saint's tapping hand. Is there a pattern?

*tap* *thud* *tap* *tap* *tap* *thud* *thud* *tap*

Crow lets his own hand repeat the movements, feeling it so naturally, realizing he'd been doing this exact pattern instead tapping his fingers randomly.

*tap* *thud* *tap*

*tap*

*tap* *thud*

*thud* *tap*

This is… a code. He has no memory of learning it, but the sounds are suddenly associated with letters.

*tap* *thud* *tap*

R

*tap*

E

*tap* *thud*

A

*thud* *tap*

N

Ȓ̴̨̝̼e̶̛̥̭̔ḁ̶̠̾n̷̝̗̏

The string of letters doesn’t make sense. He can’t even comprehend pronouncing it in his head. This whole time, he thought he’d been knocking a random pattern when he thrummed his knuckles against any surface when he got stressed. But…

It just feels right.

And it’s clear that he’s not the only one when he sees all his friends recoil in shock and deja-vu. 

He looks up at the Ashen— Ȓ̴̨̝̼e̶̛̥̭̔ḁ̶̠̾n̷̝̗̏, whose hand reaches towards his face to grab his mask. Gently, the black mask is peeled off, revealing a face similar to the fake body in the grave, to the ghost that visited them two years ago. It’s just older. Paler. With black and gold sinister eyes. 

Despite the sinister appearance a lone tear shimmers from the corner of his eyes. Still, his expression is sharp, as well as his ominous smile.

“Impressive, Class VII. I was beginning to think you guys wouldn’t pull through.” 

“What are you talking about?”

“The world will break soon. You, me, the people in this empire. We will all break at the Gral with the world soon to follow. However, since you’re able to overcome a tiny bit of this curse right now, then maybe a brighter future is possible.” His voice lowers into a mutter. “You will be key to making sure I don’t break.” 

Well, that’s not a cryptic warning at all. 

“So, this thing was a test after all,” Crow says. “But, since we passed it with flying colors, will you consider working with us now? Maybe we’ll have an easier time overcoming this breaking thing if we stick together.” 

To his surprise, Ȓ̴̨̝̼e̶̛̥̭̔ḁ̶̠̾n̷̝̗̏, actually nods. “Agreed. If you will take it, I will lend you my aid at the Gral. However, I must warn you, I am… unstable. With every second that passes, I have less control over myself. I cannot promise there won’t be any friendly fire.”

“Erm…” Emma speaks up. “Shouldn’t we try to address the reason why you’re unstable? Maybe I can find some magic to help.” 

This time, that eerie golden gaze pierces through Millium. “I’m sure you’re aware that there’s many anomalies with my existence, but let’s just say the main cause is that I am an Ironblood for a reason. It can be difficult to escape one’s loyalty, and no magic will be able to undo that.” 

Millium shifts uncomfortably, masking her hesitation with a nervous grin. 

“Anyway…” Ȓ̴̨̝̼e̶̛̥̭̔ḁ̶̠̾n̷̝̗̏, places the mask back onto his face. “That’s enough for now. We shall meet again at the Gral and you can decide then if you want me to join you.”

“Wait, we still have questions!”

Ȓ̴̨̝̼e̶̛̥̭̔ḁ̶̠̾n̷̝̗̏, turns away regardless. Still, he turns his head to glance at them one last time. “If you're so desperate for answers, just ask Alisa.”

“Huh?! Me? How the heck would I know anything?”

“You have an artificial stigma blocking a part of your consciousness. I'm sure you know someone who can remove it from the back of your neck. Once you do, you should recall all of our meetings.”

“Huh?”

Alisa lifts the back of her hair. A quick glance reveals a black mark on the back of her neck.

“It's just like the one that was on everyone back at home two years ago,” Gaius says, breathless. They look back to Ȓ̴̨̝̼e̶̛̥̭̔ḁ̶̠̾n̷̝̗̏ for answers, but he’s already gone. 

“I feel so disgusting right now,” Alisa hisses as she furiously rubs the back of her neck. “Does that mean I’ve been spying on everyone? How long have I had this?”

And who has she been telling? Crow sighs. It might make sense now how Altina found out about their discovery at the cemetery before anyone told her. 

“It should take a few hours to erase this,” Gaius mutters. “I suppose we will find out then.”

And with the Summer Festival approaching with the night, it seems like this will be a long day…

 

—-

 

The flash of white never fades. Or… It looks like it doesn’t because the next scene he is placed in is a white room. The same one he had been in when he first awakened in this Nameless Place. He only understands this when there’s a feather-light touch to his hand, and he turns to see Kasia standing there by his side, smiling. 

He’s not fazed by her innocent expression. “What happened to saying you were going to be by my side every step of the way?”

Kasia chuckles. “Should I take this to mean that you missed me?” Before he can figure out how to respond to that, she adds, “I was there though, even though you couldn’t sense me. I was just being polite just in case you let your friends drag you onto a nostalgic adventure… Or in case you and your boyfriend need privacy.”

Of all the things that have been revealed in this strange place, somehow that makes his mind short-circuit. “What?”

“Yes, sweetie, your taste in partners is questionable, but I don’t judge!”

“That’s not…” Suddenly he’s struck by a sense of domesticity. This really feels like a mother teasing her son about his questionable interests. And because he’s not used to that concept, he decides to not-so-subtly change the subject. “...Anyway, are you sure this place is to discover myself? Most of these scenes aren’t memories, and it’s clearly skipping the parts that made me, well, me.”

“I mean, it looks like this place has helped you discover yourself without your memories.”

“Still, it would be nice to understand the past.” It would be nice to know the truth of how he’s connected to Ishemelga so he knows how to not be taken advantage of again. 

Kasia turns away. A sad glint overtaking her teasing expression from earlier. “That’s because… None of your memories exist here. No matter how far you search here, you will never find your memories in this place.”

“What do you mean? Didn’t you say I would be able to uncover my history here?”

“Sorry, that was a slight exaggeration.” 

He’s not even angry at that answer, especially when she appears so genuinely apologetical. He’s… just confused. 

“While I did say this place is outside Zemuria’s rules, it’s not capable of deriving information buried beneath such a powerful curse. Everything you’ve seen here has been derived from the memories and convictions of the people you’re connected to. That is to say, in this place, you can only learn about how the world used to perceive you, but not how you used to perceive yourself.” 

“Then, if I leave this place, I should be able to get my memories back?” 

Kasia’s lowered eyes don't inspire much confidence. “When you’re back to the real world, you will regain your memories if you decide to banish your curse.”

He frowns. “You don’t appear pleased with that idea. Do you think I’m incapable of defeating my curse?”  

“I do believe you’re strong enough to overcome it… It’s just…” Kasia steps forward and places her hand over his chest. “I believe you will have to sacrifice something important in the process.” 

“Is it more important than my memories?” 

“It is up to you which is more important.” She lifts her hand off his chest before pulling him into a hug. His muscles involuntarily freeze up at the contact, but he doesn’t push her away. “I would prefer it if you didn’t lose anything—you wouldn’t be you without either—but it looks like the world insists that you continue to sacrifice yourself.”

He scrunches his eyebrows, mind whirling trying to figure out what else he’s missing. It’s exceedingly difficult to figure anything out when he remembers nothing. 

A sniffle is heard right as a black shadow silently rises from the floor a few steps behind Kasia. It rises and rises until it looms over them and manifests as a door. 

Kasia releases him from her grasp and steps aside. She gestures toward the door with a wobbly smile. “It looks like it’s time for you to go.”

His heart thumps and the urge to grab her hand is suddenly pulling his hand to reach out to her. “You’re not following?”

“You will officially leave the Nameless Place once you pass through that door. A ghost can’t exactly be left to wander through Zemuria. Well, not again at least.” Before he can make sense of that, she pulls her fist to rest on her chest. “But don’t forget, I will always be with you every step of the way. In here. And… No matter what you choose, remember that I will always be proud of you.” 

He stares at her in awe. It’s still hard to acknowledge that this is his mom, especially without any memories, but he knows enough. He knows she’s dead and he knows he will never see her again.

Even if the past is still blank, he knows enough about himself that he doesn’t want to leave this place without regrets.

Taking a step forward, he awkwardly wraps his arms around the strange woman. “Thank you… Mom,” he mutters into her hair. Rolling the words off of his tongue is hard and it feels weird hearing himself say these things, but… It’s not exactly a wrong feeling either. “I love you.” 

He can feel a dam break when he feels tears splash onto his skin. Kasia— Mom squeezes him tightly. “I’m so glad I got to meet you all grown up..!” She buries her face into his neck. “I love you too, Rean.” 

He doesn’t count how many minutes they stay like that.

He doesn’t count how many tears shed from his own eyes. 

The only thing he counts when he leaves this place is his regrets:

 

Zero. 

 

Even as the world around him is swallowed by darkness, he keeps his eyes forward, full of resolve. He may not know what the past or future holds, but he will make sure to keep that number the same by the time his story ends. 

 

---

 

“Grief is an amputation, but hope is incurable hemophilia: you bleed and bleed and bleed.”

― David Mitchell, Slade House

Notes:

Yay, things are finally starting to look hopeful. Getting so close to that well-deserved happy ending, haha…

*Looks at word count and chapter count increasing without an end in sight* Man, for someone who abandoned this story, I’m trying way too hard lol. F me and my desire to retain some semblance of pacing. Yes, CSIII is getting a fifth part because I decided I probably shouldn’t end CSIII with a bullet point list and so I could stop changing my mind on a certain decision which impacts both CSIII’s and CSIV’s ending (I’ve never had to rewrite a conversation that was never planned five times for five days, thanks Roselia and not-Ishmelga. I don't care if I'm losing sense of it, I'm tired. I'm done. Moving on~). Yes, I still believe that CSIV will only need one part (lmao, famous last words).

Fun fact, the scene where Rean meets Crow in the Nameless Place was supposed to have a kiss scene. When I woke up the next day and saw what I had written, I bashed my head against the keyboard out of embarrassment and deleted it lmao. It's a bit too soon for that! I need to tell myself to stop writing in the middle of the night

Alright good night. Hope you enjoyed the suffering I went through to get this out and take care... zzz...

Chapter 36: CSIII - Part Five

Notes:

I’ve been writing the entirety of CS3’s section without watching any scenes from the game. I wanted to stay on a one track mind (else some other random subplot was probably gonna pop in my head), so I have just been using the wiki as a guide. Well. I… decided to watch CS3’s ending for the first time in five years. BRUH WHY DID I DO THAT. I don’t care that I already know what happens in the future, that was still... an experience ;-;

Warning for Ash’s very foul mouth

“The feelings that hurt most, the emotions that sting most, are those that are absurd - The longing for impossible things, precisely because they are impossible; nostalgia for what never was; the desire for what could have been; regret over not being someone else; dissatisfaction with the world’s existence. All these half-tones of the soul’s consciousness create in us a painful landscape, an eternal sunset of what we are.”

― Fernando Pessoa

 

---

 

Chapter 87 - Hysteria

Ash has never believed in this power of friendship BS that Armbrust and Valestein always preach, especially since it’s coming from them, the two least serious people he’s ever met. It sounds like such a joke, such a farce. Relationships are just people you happen to meet again and again until you get used to it. 

Then, you keep wanting to see them. Today, tomorrow, and onward.

Then, they ditch you when death comes knocking on their door. 

In a world where people can die from the mere whim of someone at the top of the food chain, why bother?

So yeah, he doesn’t care about the gaggle of idiots who call themselves his classmates. Who cares that their presence sometimes distracts him from the pain, making it easier to bear? He’s only here because Scarecrow promised him answers about the past, answers about the awful voice living rent free in his Aidios-damned head—

“Kill the vile one.”

—Which always brings with it the scent of ash, the vision of a home set ablaze, and pain pain so much pain he wonders why he hasn’t fucking clawed out his fucking eye out of his fucking skull yet. If he was pathetic, he’d be envious of all these losers who don’t feel pain gnawing away their sanity with every passing second.

Pain eats people away, withers them down until they’re only shells of their former selves. It makes you lose pieces of you until all you are is pain, and you’re willing to do anything to let it finally go the fuck away. 

There's no room for pride. No room for love. No room for fucks to give. If he didn’t have this constant god-awful pain, maybe he would be more appreciative of the shenanigans his crazy classmates pull. Maybe he would give a fuck about the concerned glints in their eyes when they look at him.

“Kill the vile one.”

Unfortunately, they can’t take all the pain away. He can barely live like this anymore. 

“Kill the vile one.”

Unfortunately, he’s probably going to die when he does find the way to end the pain, crushing all this friendship BS into dust. It doesn’t matter. He doesn’t care anymore. There’s nothing to care about other than finally freeing himself from this cripping pain, burning his face, stabbing his eye. 

Nothing else to care about.

“Kill the vile one.”

Except, he really hates it when that Ashen Bastard sees right through him and, with the simple snap of his fingers, turns his pain—his life—into a fucking joke. Really, he had to live with this disease for practically his whole life without knowing what the fuck he did to deserve it, and some bastard just decides to waltz along and dial it up a notch just because?

How? Why? Is he the damn cause of all this stupid pain?

He actually daydreams shooting a bullet between the Ashen Saint’s eyes. Too bad they know that he’s already dead and only some magical BS is letting his corpse walk around.

Something else is pulling at his strings. When he finds that bastard behind this shit, he swears he’s going to make them pay. If only Ash could pass on fifteen years of suffering to that bastard so whoever it is can experience his living hell.

Still, despite his nasty looks and venomous words, his classmates refuse to stop harassing him. 

“Alright, where should we begin?” Musse hums, slithering her way towards him just to whisper loudly in his ear. “Should we start with going over the ethics of why murder is wrong?”

“Says the suicidal girl who’s apparently going to take millions down with her.” 

The best part that came from the Ashen Saint’s alter ego’s revelation to them is that he knows how to shut Egret up fast. It’s a low blow, but if they’re using his potential to commit homicide in the future, then he’ll fire right back at all of them. 

“Okay then,” Kurt squeezes between them and backs Musse away so they don’t lash at each other’s necks. “How about we go over how the consequences of murder are not ideal?” 

Spoken like someone who’s privileged enough to not understand what drives people to their deaths. As expected from the guy who has his whole family alive and intact and is desperately trying to cling onto a friend who ditched him. Anyone else touched by death would cut their losses with a friend-turned-delusional-maniac, even if it is the prince. 

“Too bad we don’t live in an ideal world, now do we, Pretty Boy?” 

As expected, Kurt retorts with conviction, though the drivel he spouts is full of shit. “We can always fight our way through what’s unjust to make our ideals reality. It will be easier if we do it together though.” 

Ash wants to laugh in his face, but the pricking pain in his eye reminds him that he’s banned from laughing if he wants to keep his suffering to a bare minimum. “Maybe if you reject reality and embrace delusions of grandeur.” 

“Guys, stop.” Meanwhile, here’s the wild filly who’s already delusional. “Ash, it’s clear that you’re not going to change your mind about your… uh… final project, but can you at least do us a favor and tell us who you want to kill so we’re prepared?”

Ha! Even if he wanted to, the most hysterical part about all of this is that he doesn’t even fucking know who he’s supposed to kill. 

Like who the hell is the vile one?!

“And make it easier for you to stop me? No thanks. You all are only doing this because you’re scared of what’s going to happen if our ex-Teach’s predictions come true—” 

“What’s your problem?!” Juna lunges toward him, grabbing his collar so she can yell at his face. “Of course we’re scared of the future, no one needs the Ashen Saint’s warnings to know this country has been lit on a fuse, but we’re not doing all this because we’re scared of it! We’re doing this because we care about you, Ash! We want to keep going to school with you! We want to grow up with you and your smartass comments even when our paths inevitably diverge! We’ll want to see you again! In the future! Alive!”

…He’s stunned by the amount of pure mush in her words. Honestly. How the hell is anyone supposed to respond to that?

It seems like the silence goes on for too long because Musse decides to ruin it and the mood, leaning to whisper loudly to Kurt. “Oh my, is that a love confession?”

“Tatiana is going to be jealous,” Kurt surprisingly says back.

“CAN YOU GUYS READ THE ROOM?!” Juna yells at them before snapping her teeth back at Ash. “And you! Don’t even get any weird thoughts about us thinking differently of you for going so far to plot someone’s murder! In a world where we’re freaking military students who’ve lived to understand the realities of war with an ex-terrorist as an instructor, I think we’re beyond being above murder! Heck, I wouldn’t even care if your target happened to be Osborne! I’d actually ask you to tell me where to shoot, you know I shoot bullets on a daily basis!”

“Your aim sucks though.”

“THAT’S NOT THE POINT!” 

He knows it’s not, but he’s going to pretend it is. It’s easier to deal with that than all the furious determination behind both of Juna’s cheesy speeches. It’s easier to shrug and say

“Too bad I don’t care.”

They all frown at him in disappointment. Good, get frustrated. Run away. Leave him the hell alone. 

Just as he’s about to pick up his back and push through them as he always does whenever they stage these interventions, a small voice speaks up. 

“Can you explain why you would prefer to live as a pawn?” Altina tilts her head at him, completely oblivious to how insulting it is to be called a pawn. No doubt she gets it from the Ashen Saint’s alter ego. “I would like to understand.”

As much as it is a habit to tell everyone to screw off, Altina has been the least annoying of the group so far. He’s not as fed up with her as he is at the others. At the same time, part of him has the feeling that she only cares because this is related to her dear Ashen Saint. 

“I’m no one’s pawn,” he bites out. “I do what I want.” 

Green eyes, usually so dull, are suddenly sharp enough to peer into him. “Is assassination what you really want?”

“Kill the vile one.”

He’ll do anything to get rid of this damn voice and stupid pain.

Scoffing, he turns away from her eyes. “What’s it to you?” 

“I just want to understand, because I don’t,” Altina says, unbothered by his standoffishness. No amount of his aloofness seems to chase away any of these idiots anymore. “I… I used to be in a similar situation, my life controlled by something not me. It was only after I started working with the Ashen Saint that I discovered that I can control my life. That I can want and work to get what I want. Warmth, friendships, pancakes… even a purpose to live. For the first time… I could want those things and it would be okay.” 

He swears this building must be haunted because they’re in a room with all the doors and windows closed, yet a gust somehow blows through the air, rustling everyone’s hair and brushing Altina’s hat off the top of her head. She catches it, glimmering eyes never leaving his, and she…

Smiles.

“It is nice… to be free to want.” 

It’s the first time he’s seen her smile. 

This is also the most he has heard her speak since they first met. He’s actually somewhat concerned why she bothered to spill her feelings out like this to him of all people, but he will never admit it. Instead, he scoffs, “You didn’t have to say all that, you know.”

She blinks and gives him that look. That look where she’s clueless and pure and honest and no one can fault her for it. Damn it, he’s getting soft.

“I just wanted you to understand me.” 

.

.

.

.

.

No one can understand his pain, especially not someone who isn’t human or people who don’t have a voice that stabs them between the eyes every day and night. Still, despite how the next month flies by while his classmates continue doing whatever to convince him to not kill anyone—he still doesn’t even know the how, who, when, and where; how can anyone stop that—the words spoken that day are the ones that he reflects on the most.

It’s complete bullshit… to want to be understood.

To want to get his fucking life back. 

But…

“Kill the vile one.”

…Pain rules him with an iron fist. The thing he wants most is for it to go away, consequences be damned. If the voice turns out to be a lie and grants him no salvation when the deed is done, then damn it all to hell, Ash will make sure he will choke on a bullet and find peace that way. 

Speaking of bullets and lack of control of his life, it feels like the world gives him a gun on a silver platter. On the second day of their field study in Heimdallr, they fight some Calvardian spies. 

One of Kurt’s attacks makes a spy’s gun fly out of his hand, and it lands right by Ash’s foot. Musse has been injured pretty badly, so Altina is working on healing her while Juna works on defending them. Armbrust isn’t here to be oddly cognizant of everything happening in his vicinity. 

It is so easy to pocket it before he smoothly continues beating the shit out of these spies.

This truly is some cursed magical fate bullshit. Because there is no way he has just been given access to a gun with no metal, thus being undetected by metal detectors. There is no way the class he belongs in has been invited to join a celebration at Valflame Palace, the same place this damn voice is beckoning him toward. There is no way his eye chooses that moment to throb gently for once, as if praising him for getting this far.

Fuck this.

His fist almost punches a mirror, but a hand grabs his wrist, halting him from doing any damage. He looks up to see… a faceless man. 

He knows it’s Armbrust because who else would wear four layers with a fur-lined coat to top it off in the fucking summer, but… No matter how hard he squints, he can’t see Armbrust’s dumb, slanty face. 

"̷A̶s̷h̸,̸ ̶y̷o̵u̷ ̵o̵k̵a̵y̴?̶

He can barely hear the voice, like his ears are stuffed with cotton. Oh hell, he’s finally losing his goddamn mind. Especially when the only voice he can hear clearly now is

“Kill the vile one.”

Shut the fuck up. 

“I’m fine,” he shrugs Armbrust’s hand away. “There was just a fly on the mirror, that’s all.” 

It’s a terrible lie and they both know it. However, now that the Summer Festival is in full swing, he's sure he’s the last on Armbrust’s priority list. There’s too many people here that are begging for the oh-so-famous Azure Chevalier, giving Ash plenty of opportunities to 

“Kill the vile one.”

Ugh, give him a damn break. 

"̸A̸l̸r̴i̷g̴h̸t̶,̸ ̶j̷u̴s̸t̷ ̵d̶o̷n̸'̴t̸ ̸g̸e̷t̷ ̸i̸n̷t̵o̷ ̴a̸n̸y̷ ̴t̴r̷o̴u̴b̷l̵e̶.̴"̶ ̶

He has no clue what has just been said, but the tone it’s said with suggests it’s just some obligatory concern. He just nods his head and turns the faucet on in the sink, splashing his face with water. The cool water doesn’t relieve the burning in his eye at all. 

Armbrust lingers for a while before finally leaving the bathroom. Good riddance, another eye off his back. 

All the others will surely be distracted as well, finally getting an excuse to let loose and party. Musse will undoubtedly be tangled up by her old schoolmates, one of which is the princess who seems to always get her way. Kurt will be busy catching up with his mom and brother, no doubt showing off his improvements with his blade. Juna will probably just be overwhelmed by the presence of all the big shots here before being dragged in their alumni’s pace. 

The one he has to worry about the most is Altina.

However, upon leaving the bathroom, she is nowhere to be seen. 

This really is his chance to

“Kill the vile one.”

He almost reaches the upper hall before someone interrupts him. Again, the person is faceless to him, but he sees enough to figure out the identity. Short blonde hair. Male. Stuffy clothes only the nobility would bother wearing. 

Jusis Albarea. 

"̴H̴a̶v̷e̵ ̷y̴o̴u̵ ̵seen̶ ̴M̴illium̴?̸"̵

It sounds like a yes or no question. He hopes the answer is no because he shakes his head. 

Jusis’ body language just radiates apprehensiveness. He has no clue what the hell is going on but he’s getting a bad feeling. One that intensifies with every throb in his eye. 

"̸Th̸e̸ ̴Ironblo̶o̴d̵s̶ look like the̷y̶ ̴know somethi̶n̴g̵,̷ ̵b̷u̴t̶ ̶t̶h̴e̶y’re ̸i̷n̵s̶istent̴ ̵o̶n̸ ̷keepin̷g̶ ̷t̶h̵e̶i̷r̵ ̷m̷o̵u̷t̷h̷s̸ ̴s̸h̵u̶t̶.̶ ̵E̷v̸e̸n̶ ̷m̶y̸ ̴s̸u̷p̷p̷o̸s̵e̸d̶ ̷d̸e̶a̷r̴ ̵b̵r̷o̵t̷h̸e̶r̸.̶"̴ The only thing Ash understands is the deep sigh of worry. "̴I̶ ̴h̷ope ̶s̶h̴e hasn̵'̴t̴ ̵d̴o̸ne ̶a̵n̵y̶t̷h̴i̸n̶g̵ foolish.̸"̶

“Same,” he says, lamely. Somehow, that’s the right response because Jusis turns to leave. 

And now it’s his turn to 

“Kill the vile one.”

Sneaking up on some poor butler who just happens to be at the wrong place at the wrong time is easy. There’s also no way that the person he knocked out by chance happens to have the same fit as him, but he comes out of the closet with a perfect fitted butler uniform. 

If this isn’t fate, he doesn’t know what is. 

Not like he cares anymore. The closer he gets to where the voice is leading him, the more his eye hurts. More static pours into his ears and every guard, every passerby is just a blur. Despite this, knocking out the two guards blocking the room where the voice is screaming him to enter is also easy. Forgettable even.

Not as forgettable as opening the door, revealing the two figures at the very top of Erebonia’s food chain. Their faces are clear. Their voices are clear. The sights and sounds of them only make him want to retch, not helped by the repeating stabs and echoes of

“Kill the vile one.”

“Kill the vile one.”

“KILL THE VILE ONE”

His vision bleeds red. The gun is pulled out of his pocket and his fingers shake along the handle and trigger. The pain spikes. The pain engulfs his entire being. It aims the weapon at

“the vile one the vile onethevileone”

Which one? WHICH ONE?! TELL HIM— “Who do I gotta kill… to get rid of all this pain..?”

The two most powerful men in the empire stand and debate who deserves to be killed by his hand. Eventually, it’s the emperor who draws all his attention, volunteering to be the sacrifice simply because it’s apparently a waste of effort to shoot the chancellor. 

How awfully kind of him.

 

— BANG —

 

It’s insane how he’s not the one being shot at, yet his life flashes before his eyes a split second before the trigger is pulled. He sees ghosts buried by history. Sees the only woman he would call mom. Sees the town of Raquel and all the delinquents he worked with to protect their home during the civil war.

He sees the stupid branch campus. He sees the stupid principle, the stupid staff, the students, his damn frie—

 

“It is nice… to be free to want.” 

 

Altina’s words cut through the cursed voice.

 

“—we care about you, Ash! We want to keep going to school with you! We want to grow up with you and your smartass comments even when our paths inevitably diverge! We’ll want to see you again! In the future! Alive!”

 

Juna’s, too.

 

“We can always fight our way through what’s unjust to make our ideals reality. It will be easier if we do it together though.”  

 

The excruciating pain spikes one more time.

 

“Still, predictions are rooted in the past and present. If you’re so confident in your predictions, then you should know what to change in the present in order to change the future.”

 

Then ebbs.

 

“First off, one of its guys was a fucking terrorist who wanted to plunge this country into chaos… Still, there was hope for him. There still is… I know all of you have your reasons for joining this class… I won’t judge, but… Here’s my advice. Make sure to make your time here worth it. You don’t have to live up to Old Class VII’s legacy, you only have to live up to your own.”

 

And flows.

 

“Who the heck would want to save someone like you, dipshit?”

 

All this, in a split second.

 

“Projecting, are we?”

 

DAMMIT ALL—

— BANG —

— BANG —

It only takes a split second for his hand to jerk up, bullets drilling into the ceiling.

“AAAAAAAAAAHHHHH!”

He doesn’t even realize he’s the one screaming. Too busy throwing the gun away, flinging it to god-who-knows-who-cares-where when millions of needles stab into his brain. 

“GET THE HELL OUT OF MY HEAD!”

His hands grip into his scalp, almost ripping his hair out as he collapses onto his knees. Liquid streams down his face. Tears? But it’s red. Blood? Is he seriously gonna die because he disobeyed some stupid voice in his head?!

Did he really throw away his one shot?! 

Is he going to be trapped with this pain forever?!

Why the fuck did he hesitate?!

Why why why whywhywhywhywhy—

Even though it feels like time stops just for him to experience eternal pain, the world around him moves on.

“Impressive, managing to resist even when the curse has such a tight grip on you,” Osborne smirks while mockingly applauding him, though the fake amusement quickly fades into a stern frown. “However, history must remain on track.”

While the pain is obviously blinding any capacity for other emotions, Ash has no idea what to feel when he watches Osborne pick up the gun he had thrown away earlier. 

— BANG —

Has no idea what to feel when he shoots the emperor at point blank range without hesitation. Has no idea what to even think as the emperor’s body collapses, a pool of blood forming around him.

The doors slam open. The guards are probably finally here, and Ash can do nothing to protect himself. 

“How curious, finally showing yourself after being MIA for the last month,” Osborne says, and Ash forces himself to look at the new arrival. A greeting like that can only be for one person. “Are you ready to execute your orders now?”

The Ashen Saint stands by the doorway, completely unfazed by the chaos in the room. It's fifty-fifty with this guy. If it’s the personality that has pledged absolute loyalty to Osborne, then Ash is completely screwed. If it’s the other—

“As if. I’m here to deliver a promise.” The Ashen Saint scoffs, condescension practically leaking from his voice. It’s obviously the other personality, but Ash has to admit that he has balls of steel for speaking like that to Erebonia’s fucking Blood and Iron Chancellor. “You did well, Ash.”

For some Aidios-forsaken reason he refuses to accept, hearing that praise actually makes him feel slightly better. Still, he yells, trying and failing to point at the emperor bleeding out on the ground. “He’s still dying though!”

It’s that moment where everything clicks. The Ashen Saint’s prediction about how this assassination will trigger a war unlike any other. The emperor being shot by someone with a Calvardian gun. Just say it was done by a spy and… The news writes itself. 

For some reason, he never really thought about it like that.

He still can’t really think about it when his body might finally be reaching a point where it can’t take this anymore. Fuck, he’s gonna pass out…

“What’s done is done.” 

Footsteps are heard rapidly approaching from the hall. The Ashen Saint rushes forward and grabs Ash’s arm. The moment they make contact, he almost chokes from relief. The agonizing pain in his eye oddly becomes more bearable. 

Then suddenly disappears. 

“We need to leave.” 

Paralyzed by the whiplash of feeling no pain for the first time ever in his life, Ash is unprepared when he’s dragged toward the wall lined with windows. His brain finally kick-starts. 

Ain’t no way this is the escape plan, does this bastard have any idea how many floors above the ground they are—

Glass shatters and sharp pain digs into his skin from the broken shards. That’s only a mild annoyance compared to what he’s used to. He’s far more worried when his stomach drops. Nails dig into his arm, pulling him over the edge—

His feet are no longer touching the ground.

They’re free falling from however many selge up in the sky.

And the people on the ground look like ants.

Maybe he shouldn’t complain after almost being the one to assassinate the emperor, but— “FUCK YOU!” 

Many, many more curses and colorful expletives are thrown at this madman as they proceed to fall faster. Fuck this—

The Ashen Saint has the gall to side-eye him as he raises his hand toward the blank skies. 

“Valimar.”

A flash of white rushes toward them. The Ashen Bastard teleports safely inside the Divine Knight while Ash lands roughly against the cold, metallic hands. 

He doesn’t care that his life has just been saved, he’s still going to complain. “Tch. Could’ve handled my landing better.”

“Would you have preferred to end up sitting on my lap?”

“Go to hell!”

Of all ways he could expect the Ashen Saint—or whatever demon is clearly possessing him—to respond, reality surprises him when he hears a low rumble quickly erupt into laughter.

The Ashen Saint is laughing.

“I could practically see the look on Ishmelga’s face.” —Who the hell is Ishmelga?!  But this guy doesn't care about his confusion. His laughter stops in an instant, voice now tinged with melancholy and void of humor. “Haha… I guess that means my fate is sealed...” 

This guy has completely lost his mind.

Ash should do what any sane person would do in this situation: Ask what the hell they’re gonna do now. Unfortunately, he can no longer pretend to be the sane person in this class even though none of this curse bullshit makes any sense to him.

But who cares about sanity when he takes a gulp of the fresh, cool air of the night and it doesn’t taste the pointed tips of a dozen steel knives.

Who cares when this is the first time he has experienced this since he was three fucking years old? 

He gulps down more air just to make sure the world isn't playing a joke on him, but… there's nothing. No more pain sucking his life away.

He's… free.

That realization breaks something in him. He will tell no one and he threatens the Ashen Saint into keeping his mouth shut, but he… For the first time ever in his life, he, quite frankly, sobs like a bitch.

And he doesn’t even bother stopping. He doesn’t give a fuck anymore because… Because..!

It feels so good to breathe.

It feels so good to have not done anything that would plague him with regret and guilt.

It feels good to be alive.

And it’s because he remembered his fri—

It seems like his life always comes back to the farce that is friendship. Then warps its way back to pain. A never ending cycle of regret and misery. 

Until now.

And in the middle of all his ugly sobs, he can’t help but laugh hysterically. Fucking hell. He can’t believe it. Maybe Armbrust and Valestein really were onto something.

---

 

Chapter 88 - A Dose of Sunset

If Crow had a mira every time there was an assassination attempt on a political figure by someone he knew, sparking what will be a full-blown war, he would have two mira. Which definitely isn’t a lot, but the deja vu of hearing the media report a tragedy during a celebration with someone subsequently declaring war is pure whiplash. 

It doesn’t help that…

“The freaking Emperor was his target the whole time?!” Juna attempts to whisper to her classmates, but her shock is so loud, it carries in her voice. She's lucky they returned back to the Derflinger where only trusted individuals would be lurking around. Like him. “I mean like, he has elite guards, right? If they couldn’t stop him with brute force, then maybe we had no chance.” 

Kurt shakes his head. “Let's not blame anyone. We tried our best, considering our restrictions…”

So, his dear students knew about Ash’s scheme the whole time. He must've spoken it into existence back when he was complaining about being their instructor: Them colluding as a class to assassinate someone. Or maybe he's just that bad of an influence. He just didn’t think the emperor would be the recipient of their… uh… justice. 

“I don’t think that’s the case. Ash jumped out of the window and clearly no one has found a body. At the same time, people have reported sightings of the Ashen Knight flying around the palace. It’s possible that…” Musse points out, though the way she bites her lip is a clear sign of her uncertainty. “The Ashen Saint would only bother saving him if we won that bet, so that means Ash might not have been the one who shot the emperor.” 

Meaning that Osborne is a damn lying, backstabbing bastard. Nothing is new.

And of course it all circles back to the Ashen Saint.

To R̵e̴a̵n̷. 

Alright, that’s enough eavesdropping on his students. He knows enough to pull the full truth out of them. And boy does he need it, considering the whole empire has been thrown into chaos, and now Millium, Altina, and Ash are officially MIA. He needs to gather everyone up before more people begin to disappear. 

“Alright, kids!” He claps hands together, drawing their attention. “You're gonna join a meeting with the big kids and you're gonna spill every pretty detail you know about Ash and your former instructor, got it?”

The surprised and guilty looks on their faces make them look like kids who've been caught red-handed for stealing cookies at midnight.

“Hey, lighten up, you guys ain't in any trouble.” He winks at them despite how there's really nothing to feel light about. Yet another war is brewing, and he's sick of fighting them. “Lots of things have happened and everyone has a different perspective. We're just gonna pile all the information we have together and see if we can make a new plan.”

A glimmer of hope sparks back into his students' eyes as they eagerly nod at him.

That's right, he can be a good role model even though he himself doesn't have that much optimism. Like, the whole situation is so full of crap that he doubts any plan will make anything better. Oh well, fake it til you make it and all that. 

…

Another wave of deja vu hits him when Old and New Class VII gather around in the conference room. It reminds him of when he spilled the truth of his identity to his classmates, but at least he doesn't have any damning secrets this time. 

Though, not everyone is in attendance. While Millium, Altina, and Ash aren’t here for obvious reasons, Gaius and Alisa are still working on erasing the stigma in a room down the hall. 

When Juna finishes her tale of New Class VII’s adventures while Crow was too busy dealing with his own stuff, he can’t help but whistle. “Man, ‘Class VII’ sure has a knack for recruiting assassins with big ambitions.”

Machias stands up and plants his palms at the table as he stares bewildered at the three students. He summarizes, “So you’re telling us that the Ashen Saint has another personality and somehow knew that Ash was planning an assassination, so you guys made a bet on if you could stop Ash?”

“Essentially,” Musse answers, though her gaze is fixed toward the window. Knowing her, she’s been calculating her next move based on the neverending changes to their situation. “While we may not have prevented any shots from being fired, if the Ashen Saint truly did save him, then I think we’ve won our bet.”

Habitually, Crow thrums his knuckles against the table, and it’s still weird to be conscious of the fact that the sounds just spell out a name. “What do you get for winning?”

“Permission to—”

“Save him.”

A new voice joins the conversation, and they all turn their heads to the doorway where they see Alisa standing, fingers digging into her scalp. Gaius stands behind her, acting as a support since she looks a bit unsteady on her feet.  

Despite how she looks pained, she huffs, “I remember everything about that idiot now.” 

“Everything?” Fie raises a brow. “Like, everything everything?”

“Well, I still don’t have any memories of going to school or fighting the Civil War with him, but I remember all my meetings with his other personality,” she says while moving to take a seat. Her hand remains pressed at her temple. She must be dealing with one heck of a headache if Emma’s healing magic isn’t relieving it. “He calls himself Ishmelga.” 

“The name of the Divine Knight with Chancellor Osborne,” Emma says, speaking all of Old Class VII’s thoughts. She pins her gaze towards Crow. “According to Altina, she told you that the curse is the reason why almost no one remembers him.”

“And your grandma said the memories will return if we kill the Ashen Saint or Ishmelga… I wonder if taking out this other personality out would count.” Crow makes a fist, just to stop himself from tapping. “But does it even make sense for this Ishmelga thing to be lurking around both Osborne and the Ashen Saint?” 

Celine is the one who answers. “The Divine Knights are fragments of the Great One’s power. I wouldn’t say it’s impossible for one to fragment itself, though doing so would make them somewhat weaker. Based on his aura, calling that personality Ishmelga isn’t too far from the truth.” 

Fie asks, “Anyone have a clue about how to remove something like that from inside a person? Maybe we can return him back to his old self before we fight the big bad.”

“Hold on,” Alisa shakes her head, gritting her teeth. “How come you’re all talking as if it’s been decided that we’re just going to let the Ishmelga personality die?”

“Listen to yourself, Alisa,” Jusis says. “Fragment or not, it’s still Ishmelga. The thing that’s apparently an amalgamation of the worst aspects of humanity and desires to become a god. The thing that has influenced multiple tragedies in our history, and probably responsible for the mess we find ourselves in now. Maybe he’s helping us out now, but who’s to say he isn’t going to stab us in the back later?” 

Alisa stammers, roughly hitting her hand against the table. “I— I know it’s hard to understand because you’ve only met him once, but… While his attitude is absolutely terrible, he doesn’t actually want power. What he wants is—”

“The first rule everyone is told when leaving their town or city is to not humanize the monsters,” Laura says grimly, shaking her head. “Based on what we know from how he has influenced history, this Ishmelga is extremely manipulative. It would be wise to take caution.” 

Juna stands up, the legs of her chair screeching against the ground. “Well, I agree with Alisa. He said if we won our bet, he would let us save him.” Her eyes blaze with determination and sympathy. “A monster doesn’t say that.”

Kurt nods with her. “It wouldn’t be fair to abandon the one who gave us an opportunity to save Ash.” 

“The Ashen Saint’s alter ego is also the one working against Chancellor Osborne,” Musse adds. “None of us would even have the chance to save his other side if not for his rebellion.” 

It looks like New Class VII has made up their minds. They really have grown up so fast. Still… Crow sighs.

“It’s not fair to…” R̵e̴a̵n̷. “...him, either. If you had to live with a curse that wiped your memory from the world and forced you to work for a megalomaniac, wouldn’t you want to get rid of it? Even if this Ishmelga thing is helping us out now, he’s still the cause. If he wants to redeem himself, then he has to…” 

Memories of attacking Nord, Heimdallr, and Roer flash into his vision. The voices of his classmates rebuking him for his terrorist stunts echo in the back of his head. The adventure of apologizing to his friends all over the country replay in his heart. 

A dream of an alternate reality where he took his shot and ended up dead by the end of the Civil War whispers to him. 

“...take responsibility.” 

However, he has long since learned that the world is not fair. Reality is decided by people who are the most willing to fight for the things they want, and what Crow really wants is… to finally get some damn closure. 

He’s not optimistic enough to think all things will end well. He’s already forcing himself to accept that R̵e̴a̵n might be doomed to die regardless when all this ends. It’s easier to accept when he barely remembers anything anyway. He just… would at least like to carry his memory around. 

Elliot awkwardly coughs into his fist. “Do you know anything else, Alisa? Actually, how did you get that artificial stigma in the first place?”

She proceeds to explain that Professor Lughman, also known as Black Alberich, approached her after the end of the Civil War. Since then, she's been forced to work on and tweak some new developments from the Black Workshop every now and then and to report about Class VII and any changes in their memory.

That is to say, she already spilled the beans about them learning that an old friend exists.  On the other hand, she can now tell them all about Osborne and Black Alberich’s plans.

“I assume the reason Millium and Altina are missing is because one of them needs to be sacrificed to become the Sword of the End. Their plan is to use that weapon to kill the Nameless One, the Holy Beast Roselia mentioned before that's been cursed. Doing so will unleash something called the Great Twilight.”

“The Great Twilight…” Gaius mutters. “It's mentioned in the Black Records as the beginning of the end. The curse that has plagued Erebonia for centuries will spread through the whole world, engulfing Zemuria in eternal conflict and darkness.”

“Okay, so basically… we don't want that to happen.”

Fie snorts at him. “Yeah, I guess we don't want the end of the world.”

“Which means we can’t let anyone die, including the corrupted Holy Beast,” Sara concludes.  

Leaning forward, Crow laces his fingers together in front of him, hiding his mouth while he lets his eyes close halfway. He stares into the space between Elliot and Emma, into nothing while his mind plays the devil’s advocate.

There are too many stakes at play here. The Great Twilight, Altina and Millium’s fate, and R̵e̴a̵n’s curse. As much as his heart is begging him to play the desperate widower, it is naive to place any priority in changing the Ashen Saint’s current condition. Heck, he’s not even sure there’s any worth in trying to stop the Great Twilight. 

If he understands everything right, Ouroboros is teaming up with Osborne to let the Great Twilight happen. That means they’re most likely going to have to fight the Ironbloods, Enforcers, other Awakeners, and a corrupted Holy Beast. The odds are severely stacked against them. 

Honestly, he doubts the entirety of Class VII even with Ishmelga’s help will get them far. In fact, if they even get that far, he bets it would be because the mastermind’s plan is to let them experience hope before being crushed by merciless despair. That is the whole schtick behind Osborne’s Divine Knight, right? 

Crow lets his eyes close. He’s never been much of an optimist, he’s just made it a habit recently to bet on optimists. However, his brain still spent six cold years realistically calculating the best way to achieve an impossible ambition. Now that he finally has most of the pieces together and permission to take Osborne down, a bit of adrenaline courses through his veins as his mind figures out the best plan for the long term. 

Realistically, even if they manage to retrieve Altina and Millium, their enemies will hunt them down to the ends of Gehenna until they recapture either of the girls.

Realistically, their enemies will never stop until they die. But, if Alilsa and Emma are correct, all the Awakeners are basically immortal. Crow is literally the only one who hasn’t died, and he’s not keen on falling in battle and being turned into a mindless puppet like R̵e̴a̵n. It was already hell being forced to be the national hero. 

Realistically, these people will only die once the rivalries will end. Vita had made an attempt to recreate rivalries without the Great Twilight and that failed, which means the Great Twilight needs to happen if they want all this chaos to stop. Let things get worse before they get better.

Which means… Aw man, he really doesn’t like where his thoughts have ended up. 

He opens his eyes, seeing how everyone else is absorbed in their own thoughts. Quiet determination lights up everyone’s eyes, telling him that they’re all looking at the short term: Save Altina and Millium, the rest can be figured out later. The only one here who seems to be masking their positivity like him is Musse. 

At that moment, their eyes meet. A subtle nod tells him that she agrees with him: They can’t bet on optimism this time. Well, they can try but they can’t be reckless. 

The priority here is preparing for the worst.  

Not breaking, as Ishmelga had put it. 

It will be impossible convincing anyone else here though. No one wants to accept the reality that one of their friends is probably going to die. No one wants to sacrifice anyone period. Crow will surely hate himself for it, just like he did when Gideon and Vulcan died. 

And if Ishmelga betrays them or the dumb memories decide to assault them again at the absolute worst time, then… Well, even more reason to be prepared. 

They can manage losing the battle. The war, absolutely not. Let the others pave the way to their ideals, but Crow will make sure they don’t

He folds his arms behind his head and leans back, pointing his eyes up at the blank ceiling. “Alright, so I guess our first step is to go to the Gral. How do we do that?” 

Emma and Gaius glance at each other and nod, the former being the one to speak. “We know people who will help, we just have to wait for them to arrive. Use this time to rest; with all the events that happened, I’m sure we’re all tired, especially since it doesn’t seem like all of us have recovered from the fight with the dragon earlier today.” 

They got that right. 

“We’re definitely going to have to restock on supplies, since we used most of it up during that fight.”

“Now would probably be a good time to upgrade our equipment and orbments.” 

As everyone figures out what to do to best prepare, Crow yawns as he heads toward the exit. “Alright then, wake me up when it’s time.” Waving them all goodbye, he leaves the room and heads toward his bunker. Just as he reaches the door, he hears hurried footsteps approach him.

“Wait.” He turns to see Alisa catch up to him, out of breath. “I forgot to tell you something?”

“Me specifically?”

“Yeah,” she mutters, taking a moment to gulp down air. “I wasn’t the only one who was being used by Alberich. Your friend, George, is also working with him, though he’s like the right-hand man. I don’t know if it’s due to some artificial stigma though…” 

“Wait, what?” He feels his own jaw hang in bewilderment. Just when he thought literally nothing could surprise him anymore. “You mean the George who hands out with me, Towa and ‘Gelica? The one who brought a water gun to a food fight and still couldn’t hurt a fly? That George?”

“Yeah…” 

“Seriously?” Scratching the back of his head, he finds himself staring into space. It’s always the one you least expect, huh. Not like he can judge though. “Guess I’ll just have to beat some sense into him when I see him next.”

“You’re not mad at him for betraying you?” Alisa shifts her eyes away, but she can’t hide the doubt swirling in the red. Even though she’s not saying what’s really bothering her, she’s too honest for her own good.

Crow snorts. “I’m not mad at either of you. You didn’t even know you were being controlled, while George… Well, he didn’t hurt anyone I care about, and he’s not the cause of the shitshow we’re heading in. Comparatively, I’ve still done worse when it comes to hurting the things my friends care about, so who the heck am I to judge?” 

“Still, I feel like I need to pay for helping out the enemy…” she mutters before pinning him with a stare full of resolve. “Slap me.” 

“...What?”

“I mean, I slapped you back when you revealed your terrorist schtick, seems kinda fair to get slapped back when the tables turn.” 

“I don’t think there’s much of a point, considering you were acting against your will and you’re definitely not thinking of working with Alberich anymore…” But, Crow does get it. Of wanting a punishment to easily absolve oneself of their past mistakes.

Man, human logic can make no sense sometimes. 

“Alright, don’t blame me for this.” He raises his hand.

And flicks her on the forehead. 

She levels him an unimpressed glare. “Seriously?”

“Hey, I ain’t gonna have slapping a woman who doesn’t deserve it on my conscience before I go to bed!” He raises his hands in surrender before swiftly slipping into his room and locking the door as soon as possible. “If you wanna be any more of a masochist, ask Fie to a gun duel!”

“Coward!” The door shakes from being banged on. 

Music to his ears. He lets himself crack a smile before crashing down on his bed. Idly, he flicks his trusty coin into the air. 

Now, what to do when shit hits the fan?

What to bet on..?

 

---

Chapter 89 - A Heart Split in Two

It feels like an eternity passes, wandering aimlessly in the darkness. There are no walls, floors, or obstacles here. Just pure emptiness no matter how far he goes. He’s… supposed to be out of the Nameless Place, right? How come he still finds himself in a place that stretches without end? 

“I’m surprised you crawled yourself out here already.”  

He nearly jolts out of his skin at the first sound he has heard since he got here, so accustomed to the silence of this place. Though… That voice… Sounds an awful lot like his own.

Turning to face the source of the voice, the background suddenly shifts. The black horizon is overcome with white while the ground becomes tangible. Ripples form outward from where his two feet are planted on what appears to be water, showing a reflection of Kasia’s son—all grown up and untouched by tragedy.

His attention is then drawn by the owner of the voice, eyes narrowing at a more familiar sight. Granted, he has never seen his face, but the hair and the cloak had always been familiar sights in his peripheral vision. Whatever stands before him, however, is radiating more of Ishmelga’s power than himself though. 

“Are you supposed to be another version of me?” The intimidating aura certainly reminds him more of his younger self in Lianne’s care than the one that had been in Kasia and Osborne’s care in the Nameless Place. 

Golden eyes leer at him, though no judgement swirls behind them. “You could say that.”

That only confirms that he’s not back in the real world, although he doesn’t believe Kasia would lie to him about having left the Nameless Place either. Is he in some kind of limbo then? A consequence for attempting to kill himself even in his undead state? 

“Cease the pointless overthinking, the answers to those questions serve no purpose,” the mysterious doppelganger says. “Focus on what’s important right now.”

Absolutely clueless about what could be important when he’s in the middle of nowhere, talking to something that may not be real either, he asks, “Which is?” 

Instead of a verbal answer, the doppelganger slowly unsheathes his blade. The song of steel pierces the silence as the ashen sky begins to crack. 

His breath catches in his throat when the scarlet blade points against him, a sense of betrayal prickling through his veins. 

“Waking up.”

Is all that is said before the doppelganger rushes forward, blade raised high to herald R̵e̴a̵n̷’s execution.

 

̸ ̷ ̴ ̵ ̴ ̷̨̡̦̗̣̪̫̻̟̗̗̈́̍͗̀̊̕ ̴̠͌̎ ̶̠̗̭̗̻́͌ ̴̮̑͠  ̸̢͚̩̤͔̬̙́͆ ̵̶̶̡̭̣̖̳̦͚̔̃̇́̀̉͐̀͋͋̆͑̌͑͂  ̴̴ ̴ ̷ ̵ ̸

 

Ishmelga groans, forced to lean against the wall as he holds his aching head. Warning Class VII that he’s growing unstable was just an excuse in case he has to resort to certain measures, but he didn’t anticipate two different headaches to assault him at the same time. Not only is his cursed power flaring up, no doubt triggered by the real Ishmelga’s fury for indirectly rewriting the future, but his other half finally decides that now is the perfect chance to ignite.

The natural clash of their souls makes fire rage through his veins, and it’s not funny how every movement makes his skin feel like it’s melting off.

He’s so damn tired. 

Roselia was not kidding when she said the human body couldn’t handle having two whole souls; if he lets his guard down, this body really might morph into an abomination similar to Ishmelga. It shouldn’t be such a problem, but his other half still hasn’t bothered to recover his memories yet.

Why the hell is his other half such an idiot? Just kill him so all the memories will flood back and control over this cursed body will belong to its rightful owner. Why hesitate? He’s clearly making himself look like the bad guy, attacking out of nowhere. 

 Both Class VIIs have proven themselves, so he doesn’t want to look like a loser for withholding their prize. Really, he has accepted his death already. He has already overcome Ishmelga's primal fear.

He's no longer pathetic enough to fear death.

Nor does he fear betrayal.

Death would be a mercy for him he doesn’t want to die. It’s very much preferable. If he dies now, at least he won’t have to deal with the Gral of Erebos’ inevitable conclusion. 

Just make it quick and he'll be alright.

Stop lying 

But no, instead he has to deal with this ridiculous inner battle and—

“Ishmelga, are you okay?” Altina looks at him with worried green eyes, fingers tugging his sleeve as a precaution to catch him in case he falls. 

Perhaps it’s because of Ishmelga’s supernatural nature that he’s conscious of what happens both in his inner world and in the real world. Because apparently, the world still revolves even when people are having literal existential crises. Another thing he’s oh so lucky for. 

Ignoring the sounds of blades clashing in the back of his mind, he glances at his two companions: Altina and Ash. Originally, he wanted to ditch the delinquent in the middle of nowhere, but the smartass had said, “Hey, I didn’t shoot anyone, where’s my damn reward?”

“The reward was giving New Class VII a chance to save me, but you made it clear that you don't care about that.” 

“I don’t, but I might as well get the reward for going through all that hell.” 

“I don’t see how giving yourself more work is a reward.”

For someone who had been a moment from ruining his own future just a while ago, this guy had decided to cross his arms behind him and lay back down in Valimar’s hands as if he owned the place. “I ain't going anywhere else.” 

Humans are so foolish. 

He had also kidnapped Altina during the party before the whole assassination attempt, knowing what Black Alberich and the real Ishmelga intended to do with her. He has his own plans and, if his other half continues to refuse to wake up by then, he will end the events at the Gral of Erebos on his own terms. 

So now, having snuck into the Gral with Roselia’s help, he and his two former students wait at the entrance. Even though he’s a doomed man, he wants to at least die with dignity. Even if it means keeping some hindering promises.

Even if it means breaking some forgotten promises. 

“I’m fine.” He waves off Altina’s concerns and recomposes himself. When Class VII arrives, he can’t afford to look weak to them. 

Weakness begets kindness.

He doesn’t need this to be any harder than it already will be. 

“I think you need to reevaluate your definition of fine,” Ash scoffs. “At this rate, you’re only gonna slow us down.” 

“It’s just a consequence of getting closer to the Nameless One,” he lies through his teeth. “A resonance between our curses.”

“What a coincidence, I was cursed too, but guess who’s suddenly not feeling any effects like you.” This guy is too perceptive for his own good. “It’s like my curse somehow got transferred to someone else or some bullshit like that.” 

Well, Ash has lost his usefulness as a sacrifice. The curse isn’t stupid enough to continue residing in a useless pawn, so it has naturally transferred itself to someone who can still serve its purpose. Not like Ishmelga will ever admit to that, no matter how much this teenager with an attitude problem pesters him. 

Thankfully, he doesn’t have to bother entertaining Ash’s conjecture because a magic circle suddenly appears in front of them. It grows and grows until it’s large enough to cover half the room and glows until they’re all blinded by a white light.

When the light fades, he’s faced with nearly the entire roster of Class VII, new and old. 

 

̸ ̷ ̴ ̵ ̴ ̷̨̡̦̗̣̪̫̻̟̗̗̈́̍͗̀̊̕ ̴̠͌̎ ̶̠̗̭̗̻́͌ ̴̮̑͠  ̸̢͚̩̤͔̬̙́͆ ̵̶̶̡̭̣̖̳̦͚̔̃̇́̀̉͐̀͋͋̆͑̌͑͂  ̴̴ ̴ ̷ ̵ ̸

 

R̵e̴a̵n̷ is not really sure when an identical blade materialized by his side, but he doesn’t hesitate to draw it when his doppelganger’s blade cuts too close to his face. A crimson wave pulses between them from the impact, pushing them both away, their feet skidding down on the water’s surface. 

For a moment, a faraway voice pierces his ear. 

—I’D RATHER DIE THAN ACCEPT YOU!—

He furiously shakes his head to stop the strange voice from echoing in his mind. Blinking, he leers at his opponent.

Stay focused. 

“Wake up?” Which means this place is like a dream. The final stage before he can return to reality. “By fighting you?” 

“By killing me.” The doppelganger doesn’t waste a second readying his blade again. “I’m sure you’ve figured out what I truly am from that one attack.”

Even with his limited knowledge, there is no mistaking something that has been with him since waking up with no memory. “A personification of my curse.”

“Precisely, and I’m the only thing standing between you and your memories,” the curse sneers. “You know there’s only one way to finally wake up from this overdue nightmare.”  

R̵e̴a̵n̷ frowns, bothered by a sinking sensation in his stomach. Kasia said that he would have to sacrifice something important to get his memories back. 

Based on what he’s hearing, it seems like this doppelganger—his so-called curse—is what must be sacrificed. Logically, he shouldn’t hesitate to slay it. Doing so will let him finally get his memories back, finally be true to himself, finally return to the people who care about him. Plus, since this doppelganger is essentially just an extension of Ishmelga himself, shouldn’t that give him more reason to get rid of it?

But…

 

̸ ̷ ̴ ̵ ̴ ̷̨̡̦̗̣̪̫̻̟̗̗̈́̍͗̀̊̕ ̴̠͌̎ ̶̠̗̭̗̻́͌ ̴̮̑͠  ̸̢͚̩̤͔̬̙́͆ ̵̶̶̡̭̣̖̳̦͚̔̃̇́̀̉͐̀͋͋̆͑̌͑͂  ̴̴ ̴ ̷ ̵ ̸

 

There's a long silent moment where Class VII just stares at him in shock. He swears, some of them just rub their eyes just to make sure he's actually there. What fools.

Thankfully, Altina draws their attention to a detail far more important than the act of gawking at him. “Where's Millium?”

His teeth gnash against each other. The only one who's missing is the Oz unit. He had thought the Ironbloods were too attached to her to use her as the sacrifice, but perhaps someone got too desperate after he whisked Altina away.

When no one has an answer, Altina gives him a pleading look. Yeah, they can't waste much more time.

Unfortunately, it seems like not everyone has gotten the memo because Juna barrels into Altina, attacking her with an animated bear hug as the rest of the students surround them.

“You're all right, Tilly!” She then glances at Ash with a deadpan. “Oh, good to see you too, Ash.”

“Whatever. You're just disappointed because you couldn't stop me.”

“So you did—?!”

Ishmelga cuts in. “If he did, he wouldn't be here now. Osborne was the one who shot the Emperor. Let's skip all the fluff and go. We're wasting time.”

“Hold on a second there, kiddo!”

Apparently stupidity isn't something that humans grow out of, because now it's the oldest member of the group trying to impede their progress. A golden glare is shot at ex-jaeger, ex-instructor.

“Don't give me that look, I know time’s short,” Sara huffs, though her steel gaze is undeterred by his. “But it's important that we know what your deal is.”

Seriously? That’s what all this fuss is about?  “I made two promises with you, Class VII, old and new: To let you save me, and to aid you in your descent in the Gral. I’m merely here to keep my promises.” 

And he will drown in shattered promises when he dies. 

“Can you elaborate on what saving you entails?” Musse asks. She appears more certain than the last time they met. Good for her. “I keep hearing that you’re the cause of erasing your other’s self’s memory from everyone. You said it’s by breaking your curse, but doesn’t that mean removing you as well, Ishmelga?”

Is there a hint of concern in that girl who sees everyone as chess pieces? He must be growing delusional. 

“Perhaps. It’s an internal affair, so none of you have to worry your pretty little heads about it. However, if worse comes to worse and Millium perishes, you can at least use the Sword of the End to kill me without killing my other half.”

So many glares get pointed at him. Jusis is the one who verbalizes their delusion. “We won’t get to that point. We won’t let her die.” 

Ishmelga glances at Altina, who doesn’t remind anyone that their enemies find value in her death as well. They probably think she’s safe here with them.

Still, the girl’s determined stare hardens into steel. She has grown so much from the puppet she used to be. 

“Then, let’s go.” He turns away from them, cloak fluttering behind him. “I would hate it if we were too late to save anyone.” 

 

̸ ̷ ̴ ̵ ̴ ̷̨̡̦̗̣̪̫̻̟̗̗̈́̍͗̀̊̕ ̴̠͌̎ ̶̠̗̭̗̻́͌ ̴̮̑͠  ̸̢͚̩̤͔̬̙́͆ ̵̶̶̡̭̣̖̳̦͚̔̃̇́̀̉͐̀͋͋̆͑̌͑͂  ̴̴ ̴ ̷ ̵ ̸

 

…then, why would Kasia—who has gone so far to call Ishmelga scum—say this curse is something she would rather not see him lose? 

There’s something not right about this. 

Unfortunately, before R̵e̴a̵n̷ can ponder it, their blades are forced to clash again.

 

—Do you really want to die after hearing them say all that?—

 

Every time their blades strike each other, crimson waves push them away from each other.

 

—Yes! If only to protect them from you!—

 

Always accompanied by haunting voices that sound like his own.

 

—You’re hopeless.—

 

It hurts. 

 

—Did you forget why you wanted to kill me?—

 

It’s then, he realizes that these voices are…

 

—Hurting people is what I do…—

 

…Memories.

 

—...Remember?—

 

Their memories. 

 

̸ ̷ ̴ ̵ ̴ ̷̨̡̦̗̣̪̫̻̟̗̗̈́̍͗̀̊̕ ̴̠͌̎ ̶̠̗̭̗̻́͌ ̴̮̑͠  ̸̢͚̩̤͔̬̙́͆ ̵̶̶̡̭̣̖̳̦͚̔̃̇́̀̉͐̀͋͋̆͑̌͑͂  ̴̴ ̴ ̷ ̵ ̸

 

To no one’s surprise, Ishmelga ends up gravitating toward Alisa and the students more than anyone else. Not only is he more familiar with them, but he can sense the unease radiating off of his so-called old friends. Good, leave him alone. No point making friends with someone who’s unstable and probably going to die soon.

Unfortunately, that doesn’t stop the others from wasting his time with small talk. From the corner of his eye, he warily glances at Alisa, who moves to walk by his side and match his pace. The melancholy in her bright ruby eyes already tells him that she’s going to start a conversation he would much rather avoid.

“You keep brushing it off, but you sound like you’ve already accepted your death.” 

He refuses to admit that out loud, so he just makes a biting comment. “What? Don’t say you’ll miss me or something like that. If you haven’t figured it out, I’m part of the problem.” 

She nudges him sharply with her elbow as she glares at him for taking her sincerity for granted. “Of course. We decided to be friends. I’ll miss you like how I miss the other you.”

“For a self-proclaimed friend, you sound awfully calm about my impending doom.”

“I’m not—!” She clicks her tongue in frustration. “Look, everyone, including you apparently, seems convinced that the right way forward is to let you go to undo the curse on everyone. As much as I want to cling onto my ideals, ignoring reality will only make me blind to what really matters in the moment. Since you made it clear that we can’t do anything to save you, Ishmelga, then I have to settle for the next best thing as your friend.” 

“Which is?” 

A shiver crawls up his spine when their eyes lock together. There is so much kindness and resolve swirling in her eyes. “Helping you die without regrets.” 

He scoffs. That’s impossible. His number one regret is being born. Being forced to see light and love and warmth but never being able to have it for himself. No wonder the real Ishmelga is such a pathetic entity, spreading misery everywhere it goes because that’s the only thing it knows. 

“Don’t bother. Even if I did want something, we’re stuck in the middle of nowhere underground. The only thing you can do to help me is to not die from all the monsters awaiting us.” 

Alisa looks away and begins to walk slowly. Her voice is full of disappointment and sorrow. “Okay…” 

Ishmelga narrows his eyes at the ground, stomach suddenly twisting. Frustration builds within himself and takes too long to realize that he’s frustrated at himself. Is he really going to let that be his final conversation with one of the only people who seemed to enjoy his company?

Well, he shouldn’t care, but… It doesn’t sit right with him. 

Might as well not add another regret to his long list of shame. 

With a click of the tongue, he slows down, matching her pace. His arm brushes against hers. “I guess there is one thing.” 

Her eyes widen. Curious. Bright. 

With a gruff sigh, he pulls his ARCUS out. “Link up with me.”

He has never used that function before. Not even with Altina. Part of it is because he never went out of his way to get into fights when he had control, the other part is that he’s cautious of the side effects. To be able to get a simple glimpse of your link partner’s emotions through a simple technological device? Seems too intimate for him.

Plus, he never wanted to make any connections. That was his other half’s job.

But now, since they can’t co-exist anymore, this might be his last chance to get a glimpse of what he’d been longing for ever since his other half died. 

CLICK

The warm smile that blossoms on Alisa’s face cuts through the pins and needles suffocating his skin.

 

̸ ̷ ̴ ̵ ̴ ̷̨̡̦̗̣̪̫̻̟̗̗̈́̍͗̀̊̕ ̴̠͌̎ ̶̠̗̭̗̻́͌ ̴̮̑͠  ̸̢͚̩̤͔̬̙́͆ ̵̶̶̡̭̣̖̳̦͚̔̃̇́̀̉͐̀͋͋̆͑̌͑͂  ̴̴ ̴ ̷ ̵ ̸

 

“Stop!” R̵e̴a̵n̷ yells as sparks fly. Another clash of steel rings in the air. Another crimson pulse ripples out, tinting the ashen background with red while the water at their feet roars and turns inky black.

—Don’t be fooled. I’m only like this because you’re so messed up in the head. I am still what you hate… What you fear…—

The bad feeling swirls in his gut at the change of surroundings. His hand—even though they're not in the physical world, this is some sort of dream space—trembles with more cursed power than usual.

Are they..? 

“Do you still not understand?” His counterpart yells, stabbing his sword into the liquid ground. The tumultuous waves calm. “It’s kill or be killed!”

R̵e̴a̵n̷ takes a deep breath. He may not know where he learned the sword, but its teachings reside deep in his core being. Free to finally think for himself, he understands the skills… the judgement… the keen insight to see through his opponent.

He accusingly points his blade at the doppelganger. “You say that, but you're not even trying to kill me!”

To put it simply, he's at a severe disadvantage. While their skills and tactics are evenly matched, one of them has more raw power overflowing from their form. R̵e̴a̵n̷ still has nothing—no memories, no connections, no tricks—to overcome that.

A sharp frown spoils the curse’s face, sharp teeth revealing themselves in disapproval. “Why does that matter to you? You will do both of us a favor by ending my misery quickly. I won't have to deal with this damn mess anymore. You get your memories back and you get to return to your friends. What else could you want?”

Want.

It all comes back to that. Want and the conviction to get what you want.

R̵e̴a̵n̷ does want his memories back.

He does want to go back to a place where he belongs.

But, most of all, he wants to live without any more regrets.

“Well, I don't want to kill you.”

 

̸ ̷ ̴ ̵ ̴ ̷̨̡̦̗̣̪̫̻̟̗̗̈́̍͗̀̊̕ ̴̠͌̎ ̶̠̗̭̗̻́͌ ̴̮̑͠  ̸̢͚̩̤͔̬̙́͆ ̵̶̶̡̭̣̖̳̦͚̔̃̇́̀̉͐̀͋͋̆͑̌͑͂  ̴̴ ̴ ̷ ̵ ̸

 

IDEALISTIC FOOL!

Steel sings in both dream and reality, but Ishmelga’s attention is drawn toward the ache in his arm. With a blink, he vision tunnels on the double saber holding his sword back.

“Man, I know you said you’d be unstable, but I'm starting to get the feeling that you're doing this on purpose,” Crow mutters, brushing off the ashes on his shoulder. 

“Then stay out of my way,” he hisses as he dodges another plume of flames headed their way. 

Of all the people they had to face off first, it had to be the two monsters Ishmelga remembers the most clearly, the most fondly: Lianne and McBurn. He knows there’s no bad blood between them, they’re only here under orders from the Grandmaster, but—

“Burn more, higher, brighter, hotter!” McBurn yells with a crazed grin as billowing flames extinguishes all the air around them. “I’m impressed, Kid! You got way stronger than I ever imagined! How about you summon your Divine Knight here so I can really go all out!” 

…This demon is having way too much fun while they’re fighting for their lives. 

Ishmelga grits his teeth, brushing a blade away in his mind while slashing through the flames in reality. Not a moment later, a steel lance bursts through the smoke. The only reason he doesn’t become a skewer right then and there is because an ARCUS link finally settles between him and the Azure Chevalier.

A double saber deflects the lance while a hand pulls him away from the newly paved course. There’s only a moment to breathe before more fire burns at their lungs, before more steel pierces through the air, forcing both the Awakeners to move out in sync. 

The perfect synchronicity bothers him. He’s really not used to this. With an annoyed click of the tongue, he shuts the ARCUS link down, watching Crow stumble for a second before slamming his double sabre down on McBurn.

“Seriously?”

Ishmelga ignores the complaint as several other of Crow’s friends rush forward when McBurn stumbles. His focus shifts to the flash of gold that bursts toward him. Holding his tachi up, his blade slides against Lianne’s lance before he leaps away. The moment the tip of the lance follows him, he feels another link tie to his ARCUS. 

At once, Laura jumps in front of him to block the attack. Ishmelga clicks his tongue again at how these people seem to just want to link up with him without warning him, but he doesn’t waste this chance to strike at Lianne’s side. Given her heavy armor, the attack doesn’t do much, but it gets the Steel Maiden to back off.

With a huff, Ishmelga cuts off their ARCUS link. Just because he initiated one with Alisa doesn't mean the rest of these fools can just mess with him when they want to.

Laura doesn’t make a big deal over it, but she does give him a curious look. It doesn’t last long before flames explode and fumes flood the whole area.

To no one’s surprise, the battle is long and they don’t even end up winning. All he knows is that his ARCUS link somehow gets juggled around by all his allies. By the time they can finally push their way through the Anguis and most powerful Enforcer, leaving Laura, Emma, and Gaius behind to keep those monsters distracted, Ishmelga counts that his ARCUS had linked up fifteen times during that battle.

So, basically everyone. 

It leaves him feeling more empty than usual. Perhaps because it only intensifies the sense of longing buried in his chest. It's very unsettling.

But of course, it seems his luck is as short as always because someone chooses that moment to reestablish a combat link with him despite how they are very much no longer in combat.

He leers at Crow, who only responds with a sly wink.

Without hesitation, he shuts the link off again. “Do you have a problem?”

Crow has the gall to feign innocence. “Look, I'm just trying to be considerate. Alisa and my students seem to have been won over by you. I'm not an optimistic guy, but if there's a way to keep both you and our old friend around, then I'm open to ideas.”

Seriously, first the students and Alisa, now even this guy is open to a delusional option? He had thought Crow and the rest of the alumni would overlook his plight, considering they shouldn't be attached to him at all, but he can't ignore their fleeting, concerned glances every here and there.

These people are such softies.

Ishmelga sighs. “Like I told everyone before, don't bother. Focus on what you should do when your old friend wakes up. My fate is sealed. I've made my peace with it.”

“You sure?” Crow challenges, his smirk too knowing. “Maybe you don't know this because you don't use your ARCUS link with many people, but it's more than just a tool to help us fight.”

“I know that.”

That's why he quickly learned that he's not a fan of this gimmick.

“Well, depending on the level of the link it can give you a glimpse into your partner’s core as long as you know where to look.”

Ishmelga doesn't say anything, already dreading where this conversation is headed. Why did his other half have to make such good friends?

Crow’s eyes flick to the others who are pretending to ignore their conversation.

“You're… lonely, aren't you?”

He will never admit that, so he just shrugs and looks away. It should be enough to tell the other that he's not interested in any further talk, but Crow grabs his hands and puts something heavy and cold into his palm.

Tugging his arm away, Ishmelga blinks at the object in his hand. “A gun? You know this is useless to me, right?”

“Heh, it’s not just any gun. It’s my lucky gun~ Consider it my bet on you.” Mischief is practically swimming in those crimson eyes. “A sign that I've made up my mind about you, Ishmelga.”

“Ignoring how nothing good can come from handing me a gun, you're literally betting on a dead horse, Azure Chevalier.”

Instead of growing a brain and heading his warning, Crow slips away to join the rest of the group who've started their next battle ahead. 

So foolish. Everyone involved with his other half is a damn fool. 

It only frustrates him. He has done everything possible to avoid these people. Everything to make his choices easier. Why…

 

̸ ̷ ̴ ̵ ̴ ̷̨̡̦̗̣̪̫̻̟̗̗̈́̍͗̀̊̕ ̴̠͌̎ ̶̠̗̭̗̻́͌ ̴̮̑͠  ̸̢͚̩̤͔̬̙́͆ ̵̶̶̡̭̣̖̳̦͚̔̃̇́̀̉͐̀͋͋̆͑̌͑͂  ̴̴ ̴ ̷ ̵ ̸

 

“Why?!”

— SLASH—

“I can sense your hatred festering inside!” 

— SLASH— 

“Hatred towards Ishmelga!”

 — SLASH— 

“Hatred towards me!”  

— SLASH— 

“Why don’t you want to end me?!”

— SLASH— 

“ I am Ishmelga!”  

Despite his counterpart’s relentless attacks, their blades slide against each other, never biting each other into a true standoff. A case like that would surely end in R̵e̴a̵n̷’s loss, but the doppelganger always reels his sword back before it can happen. It’s only more proof that this curse’s plan is just to rile him up into finally ending this facade.

— SLASH—

The resulting spark of their last clash is strong enough to not fizzle out before it hits the black water. In that one instant, their footing bursts into flames, hot enough to extinguish the air, bright enough to paint the sky crimson, tangible enough to spark pain in every nerve in his feet.

His vision blurs slightly, but it doesn’t peter out his resolve.

Especially when the one before him lets out a terrible scream of frustration.

“I remember…” Not everything. Not even anything about his life outside of this mindscape, but, “We've done this before. This same song and dance of us rejecting each other until we self-destruct.” 

R̵e̴a̵n̷ closes his eyes, taking a deep breath in the melting air. He ignores the cry of flames and listens. Listens to the memories. 

.

“I know you don’t believe that. Ishmelga would not look as pathetic as I do. You just don’t want to admit what I really am because it will make you sound more pitiful than you already are.”

.

“I am you, but you do not want to be me. I am the blade in your heart that you fail to grasp. You let me slip. You hurt me. You want to destroy me. This ends up hurting everyone around you.”

.

“It all boils down to who you choose to be. Do you want me to be part of you or not? The answer is obvious.”

.

“People are supposed to believe in themselves.”

.

“If it’s to protect the ones I care about… If it’s to grasp a future where I can be happy… Then I’ll stop hating you. I’ll stop fearing you.”

.

“I am you, and you are me. I accept you. Now, give me the strength I need!”

.

“You helped me accept who I am, all the parts that are you, all the parts that are me.” 

R̵e̴a̵n̷ calmly opens his eyes, gently swinging a perfect arc through the sea flames. A way is carved easily to his other half who stumbles, one hand digging nails into his head while the other one keeps the vermilion blade plunged into the ground. 

“I know Ishmelga. I know his cruelty. You… are nothing like him.”

R̵e̴a̵n̷ swings his blade once more, creating a biting gale to keep the flames at bay. 

“You're just… me.”

 

̸ ̷ ̴ ̵ ̴ ̷̨̡̦̗̣̪̫̻̟̗̗̈́̍͗̀̊̕ ̴̠͌̎ ̶̠̗̭̗̻́͌ ̴̮̑͠  ̸̢͚̩̤͔̬̙́͆ ̵̶̶̡̭̣̖̳̦͚̔̃̇́̀̉͐̀͋͋̆͑̌͑͂  ̴̴ ̴ ̷ ̵ ̸

 

“Not anymore, you fool. I wouldn’t be here losing my goddamn mind if it were that easy..!” Ishmelga’s knuckles tighten around the hilt of his sword before making another attempt to swing it at his other half. “But I have a goddamn soul now and your weak human body can’t handle two complete souls. Someone has to disappear before you get your memories back!”

Maybe it’s because he’s losing the will to fight, the will to keep up this useless facade, that his other half easily catches it mid swing with his own blade before maneuvering it in a way that Ishmelga’s blade flies out of his hands.

The sword flies up before sinking into the flames behind him. 

He lowers his head in defeat. 

“...And I volunteer the guy who won’t be missed.” 

R̵e̴a̵n̷ raises his blade.

 

̸ ̷ ̴ ̵ ̴ ̷̨̡̦̗̣̪̫̻̟̗̗̈́̍͗̀̊̕ ̴̠͌̎ ̶̠̗̭̗̻́͌ ̴̮̑͠  ̸̢͚̩̤͔̬̙́͆ ̵̶̶̡̭̣̖̳̦͚̔̃̇́̀̉͐̀͋͋̆͑̌͑͂  ̴̴ ̴ ̷ ̵ ̸

 

And swings it to stop a rapier from digging his face open. R̵e̴a̵n̷ immediately leaps back, quickly noticing that the surroundings have completely changed again. The dark gray walls should be nothing noteworthy, but it’s such a stark contrast to the dream-like environments he’d been going through that he wonders if he’s finally back in the real world. 

He can feel the cold black mask fit snugly on his face. Oddly enough, it doesn't cloud his thoughts at all. It's just an uncomfortable presence, but grounding in a way.

What draws his attention are the people present. He can recognize all of them. Altina, his former students, Crow, the other Class VII alumni, and the Ironbloods.

Seeing how R̵e̴a̵n̷ finds himself clashing blades with the captain of the Intelligence Division, it's clear which side he's apparently fighting against.

“I know I have no right to say this shit, but—” Crow slams his double saber down onto Rufus, who calmly steps aside and lets his double-edged sword slide and deflect the attack. “She trusted you!”

“Traitors will be traitors,” Rufus says with a cold smile. “The moment her loyalty with us wavered, her only purpose became the very thing she was born to be.”

“RUFUS!” Jusis yells, rushing past Crow to deliver a swift follow-up attack. Equal blades smash I to each other, but it's clear which owner has more strength. “What is wrong with you?!”

“I’m merely following orders.”

“Do you believe in that as well, Captain Arundel? Major Claire?” Altina calls out with desperation. R̵e̴a̵n̷ has never heard so much emotion from her. “Do you believe Millium deserves to be sacrificed simply because she didn't want to choose between her two families?”

Claire remains silent as she continues to shoot at everyone else, scattering them apart. Meanwhile, Lechter dashes forward, locking swords with R̵e̴a̵n̷.

The force behind the attack is oddly weak. Certainly strong enough to look like he's trying, weak enough to be batted away despite his momentum. The intention behind it reads that Lechter is playing a game, made much more apparent when he leans in and whispers during their deadlock.

“It was a pain in the ass starting from literal scratch, but I figured out everything about you.”

R̵e̴a̵n̷ narrows his eyes. It's clear that the Ironbloods and Class VII are fighting because of something that happened to Millium. It's also clear that they're descending through the Gral, which probably means that she has been chosen as the sacrifice instead of Altina. 

It's not clear why Lechter is the only one here not taking this fight seriously. Not clear if R̵e̴a̵n̷ should take it seriously, given his complete lack of context and how Lechter’s words pique his intrigue.

“What do you mean?” he says, letting his fellow Ironblood guide their blades. Away from the others. Away from prying ears.

“I'm just saying I might believe in your path more than your dear sperm donor’s, assuming you remember it. Say, if you can take care of Millium, then I'll bet everything on you…” Lechter winks at him, speaking his next words with a sing-songy cadence. “Schwarzer~”

It's then that their pretend deadlock finally breaks, the rapier falling and clanging to the ground.

“Give me a break, you're ridiculously strong!” Lechter whines, loud enough for all to hear. He masks it well though, wearing a nervous smirk while breathing heavily. “It's borderline unfair! I give, man!”

R̵e̴a̵n̷ studies the mischievous glint in the trickster's eyes, the subtle shake in his head pointing to the other Ironbloods. There's clearly a lot here to process, but he understands one thing perfectly:

To keep cutting a path forward.

So, his blade turns on Rufus, joining the fray with people who called him their friend in the Nameless Place. Seeing an opening left by Jusis, their ARCUS link snaps together and—

Blinks. 

Blinks as fire engulfs his vision. 

Blinks again when he realizes that he’s back in the crimson mindscape, his doppelganger still kneeling, still breathing heavily in front of him.

“What’s going on?”

His other self snaps at him with a hiss, slamming his fist to the ground. Embers of flames splash upwards. “We're merging. This is exactly what I didn't want to happen.”

Out of the corner of his eye, R̵e̴a̵n notices how the edges of his clothes are becoming transparent. “Is that a bad thing?”

“Are you dumb?! Can’t you feel the pain of your body screaming, melting itself inside out to adjust to having two mutating souls?!”

Vaguely, he’s aware of many sensations. Of prickling and burning and stabbing and knotting underneath his skin. But that’s not pain compared to the aching void in his chest. It’s not pain compared to a hurricane of emotions still trying to shred through his veins. All these other heated sensations are just how he has been since he first woke up without memories. Honestly, they used to be worse in the beginning. 

He shrugs. “I guess I’m just used to it.”

His other self clicks his tongue, frustrated. “This time is different. An amalgamation of souls turns the body and mind into a monster. The only reason we're both still sane is because your soul is still incomplete without your memories!” 

“Which is why you insist that I kill you.” R̵e̴a̵n frowns, lowering his blade. It’s clear that the other has lost its will to fight. “But, if the problem is that my body can’t handle having two souls, then what if we merge while mine is still incomplete?”

“You still don’t understand. Not only do we have no clue about what would happen to us if we merge, you NEED your memories. Without it, you won’t have any of your stupid bonds. Without them, you and the Ashen Knight won’t be enough to defeat Ishmelga, you fool..!” 

So that’s it. He’d been thinking that maybe it wouldn’t be so bad to sacrifice his memories to keep this cursed piece of him alive. It just doesn’t feel right to abandon it when their memories tell him that this thing that calls itself Ishmelga saved him in the past . 

Clearly, judging by where they are in the real world, it seems like his other half has been working behind the scenes to help him. All his odd blackouts before make sense now. Why should he reward that effort with death?

But now, it seems he’s forced to choose between his friends and his other half. 

It should be a difficult choice, but… 

“Right now, all you need to understand is that you never gave up on m— us. It’s our turn to never give up on you. It’s as simple as that.” 

Crow’s words from the Nameless Place echo in his head, resonating with a heart that doesn’t exist. He doesn’t really know them, but… he will believe in them. 

R̵e̴a̵n looks down on his other self, who continues to cripple and crumble and curl into himself in an attempt to lessen the pain that Ishmelga has made R̵e̴a̵n so accustomed to. Really, Ishmelga and his other self are nothing alike. So defenseless like this, he really can’t help but be reminded of the boy who was being taken care of by Lianne. 

Thinking of her reminds him of the mother who helped him find himself even without the memories. 

“I made a promise to live without regrets,” R̵e̴a̵n says, earning another golden-eyed glare. Good, he’s still listening. “There’s only one choice here I would regret.” 

His other half growls. “Yes, and it’s abandoning your friends.”

Shaking his head, R̵e̴a̵n lets his tachi drop into the floor of flames. 

“It’s giving up on myself again.”

It sinks and sinks until it disappears from sight. 

“That includes you.” 

 

̸ ̷ ̴ ̵ ̴ ̷̨̡̦̗̣̪̫̻̟̗̗̈́̍͗̀̊̕ ̴̠͌̎ ̶̠̗̭̗̻́͌ ̴̮̑͠  ̸̢͚̩̤͔̬̙́͆ ̵̶̶̡̭̣̖̳̦͚̔̃̇́̀̉͐̀͋͋̆͑̌͑͂  ̴̴ ̴ ̷ ̵ ̸

 

“You will regret this.” 

This guy is supposed to be in a blank state, isn't he? Why is he so stubborn? Where is all this conviction coming from? Ishmelga shakes his head from the useless conjecture. If his other half is so insistent on making foolish decisions, then Ishmelga will have to force his hand before they merge and possibly have a worse disaster.  

Time to go back to his original plan.

With a blink, he’s aware of the real world, in control of their body. Boiling pain laces itself through every fiber of his being, but if his other half can handle it, then he’ll deal with the damn sensation until his mission is completed. 

They’re finally in the depths of the Gral, standing on the final stage with the Nameless One. Osborne and Black Alberich watch in the shadows while Crow summons Ordine to push the Holy Beast back. Ash and Musse get into their own Soldats to support him while Juna, Kurt, and Altina focus on Cedric, who holds a knife against Millium’s throat. 

The only reason the prince hasn’t plunged the knife in her neck is because Millium is awake, kicking and pushing the knife away. “What the heck?! I thought we were friends, Cedrock! As if I’m just gonna let myself die like this! Lammy!”

Her combat shell appears the moment Ishmelga sees Alberich snap his fingers, his voice echoing unamused all the way from the back. 

“Zoa Balor.” And just like that, before Airlegetlam can knock the prince out, it’s suddenly being strangled in the air by Alberich’s combat shell. “Be a good little Oz unit and die.” 

“Gah!” Millium chokes as she pushes the blade of the knife away with her hand, a line of blood forming in her palm. 

“Prince Cedric, stop!” Kurt yells as he rushes toward the two, blades weaving through the air.

“You don’t understand how long I’ve waited for this, Kurt!” Lust and cursed madness blinds the prince’s eyes as he readjusts his grip on Millium, using her as a shield in case Juna shoots. “I need that power back from before! So I will never be helpless again! So we can be equals again, standing side by side like the old times!” 

“Have you lost your mind?!”

Just before Kurt can reach them, a red blur crashes between the trio, the sound of a chainsaw revving up would blast away all sound if the cursed Holy Beast didn’t choose that exact moment to release a piercing roar. The dust settles, revealing a red-headed jaeger with a wicked grin. 

“Sorry to interrupt your squabble, princey-boy’s friend, but I reaaaaally wanna see that Vermillion Knight of his~”

“Out of my way!” Two steel blades cry against the teeth of her chainsaw. “I won’t let him become a cold-blooded murderer like you!”

“Oof, that stings~ Not.”

Ishmelga blinks again when two fingers snap in front of him. His glare focuses on Juna, who yells, “Hey, are you finally gonna snap out of it?! We could REALLY use your help to save Millium!”

He blinks yet again, assessing the whole situation. Despite their efforts to distract the Holy Beast, Crow, Musse, and Ash have no hope of having any impact on it without a weapon forged by soul. They’re a capable team, but none of them can overcome an enemy immune to all attacks, not even the Azure Chevalier. 

Meanwhile, Millium and the prince are being guarded by Alberich’s puppet and an Enforcer. While Ishmelga is certain he and the rest of the students can defeat the two, he doubts they would be able to make it in time before Cedric overpowers the already weak homunculus. 

Even if he wanted to, there’s no ideal option here to take that will save Millium. 

Letting out a snort, he tilts his head, strands of ashen hair falling to cover his eyes. “That won’t be necessary.” 

He listens to the cold screech of his steel blade leaving his sheathe. His final hymn. 

“Altina.” 

Faithful by his side as always, the Black Rabbit finishes casting a protective art on all their allies before locking her gaze with him. 

Her gaze is still as sharp as steel. Resolve unwavering, even as they both know it will come with sacrifice. 

“Looks like you’ll be able to save two people today. Are you sure you’re ready?”

Juna looks between them, eyebrows knitted in deep confusion. “What are you…?”

He only needs to see a subtle nod. “I’m ready.”

— SQUELCH — 

Ishmelga can pinpoint the exact moment when all sounds cease in the Gral. There are no more shots fired, no more blades clashing, no more air being breathed. Every fight on every stratum pauses. Even the Holy Beast who’s lost its mind decides this moment to stop its relentless attacks. He doesn’t know how, but everyone seems to collectively agree at the right time to stare at him.

At the way his scarlet blade impales the Black Rabbit’s heart. Blood blooms and drips. 

Eyes widen in horror. In disbelief. Surprise. All the ways predictable to each individual. It doesn’t matter.

He doesn’t care, he just burns the image of Altina’s bloody smile into his mind. 

With a soul, he’ll undoubtedly end up burning in Gehenna. If nothing else, the truth of Ishmelga’s true nature should shock his other half enough to wake up from his delusional fantasy. 

With a hopeless chuckle, he closes his eyes. 

 

̸ ̷ ̴ ̵ ̴ ̷̨̡̦̗̣̪̫̻̟̗̗̈́̍͗̀̊̕ ̴̠͌̎ ̶̠̗̭̗̻́͌ ̴̮̑͠  ̸̢͚̩̤͔̬̙́͆ ̵̶̶̡̭̣̖̳̦͚̔̃̇́̀̉͐̀͋͋̆͑̌͑͂  ̴̴ ̴ ̷ ̵ ̸

 

And R̵e̴a̵n blinks. All at once, he understands everything that happened in the Gral. He understands what Ishmelga did. Understands that it’s his hand holding the blade that has cut through Altina’s heart. 

Flashes of memories shoot through his skull. They’re all just experiences that he and Altina went through together since he first woke up in the Black Workshop without a memory, but suddenly…

Every mission together—every time Altina forced him to eat, treated wounds that didn’t matter, dragged him to the nearest lake to shove a fishing rod in his hands, stilled his blood-thirsty blade, and stayed by his side despite his refusal to show her the same kindness—every moment like that flashes in a second. Such simple memories were never significant enough to reflect upon, but now each one weighs heavily, settles deeply in his hollow chest.

He doesn’t even know what to feel. Anxiety— Frustration— Loneliness— Shame— Guilt— Depression— Longing— Calm— Peace— Comfort— Safety— None of them are the right words to describe the chill in his bones. 

There’s not even any hint of hate.  

Especially when Altina herself gazes at him with a pleased smile despite the light fading from her eyes. It strikes him at that moment that she had agreed with his other self for this outcome.

For this sacrifice.

The resulting silence is finally interrupted by the clang of his mask bouncing against the floor.

“ Ȓ̴̨̝̼e̶̛̥̭̔ḁ̶̠̾n̷̝̗̏… ”

From then, chaos erupts.

R̵e̴a̵n closes his eyes when all those sounds fade into the crackling of fire. There are severe cracks in the background of the mindscape now. Millions of cursed eyes peek through and watch him stand over his other self. 

While he may have abandoned his own blade, his other's sword is still half-pierced in the ground, neither sinking nor melting. It calls to him. 

.

“You are too kind. You always have been, and it’s made you a guiding light for others… It also makes you weak.”

.

“I fear for how easily that kindness can be crushed by despair.”

 

 ̸̛̫̉̾̒ ̵̪̗̀̿͋ ̷̖͐̋̇͗ ̵̘̋̅̂ ̶̢͐͂̌͝ ̴̻̥̃͑̓͗ ̸̧̛̛͕̲͔̜͉͇̂͑̅͛̊͑̄̽̈́͆͊̎̅̇̐̅̕͝ ̶̨̟̝͉̭̳̼̹͇̯͈̱͖̪͍̙̂̏̅̓̉̄̑̈́̒͂̃̊̔̓̃̔̎̕͘̕͠͠͠͠͝͝͝ ̷̨̳̙̺̲̭̳̠̩̱̞̖̯̦̭̾͋̌̂̿̒̓̎͗ͅ ̷̧̢̡̹̘̘̝̝̦͚͉͚͕̖̳̞̫̝͓̩̣͓̮͓̙̘̌͒́̊͆͒̆̀͌͌͜ͅ ̷͚̮͇̘̱̯͍͙̙̯̝̤̲̠̯̫͓̱͍̱͖̃̾ ̵̞̫̠̹͙̪̩̠̞̟̫̀͆͊̃͋͐͋̀̽̈́̌̕̕ ̵̡̢̠̖̘̰̮̣̤̙̍̅̄͒̃͛͑͒͘̚͜ ̸̩̠̑̑͊͑̍̄̒̇́̉͗͂͒͋̽̌̕̚͘̚͝͠ ̴̡̧̢̞̼̘͙̣̤̲̫̠̺̦͍̼̼͍̺͈̝̥͕̖̹͛̇̍̈́̀̂̑̓̋̑͌̑̓̅́̊̍͗̄͆͑̔͘͜͝ ̵̢̨͙̙̺̇̀͛̆̈́̓̒̓̃̿̉́͆͂͝͝͠ͅ ̵̨̟͙̟͕̥̠̩̆̐͂̑̎̐͋̌̏͜͠ ̶̧̢̨̛̫͇̮͉͈̠̳̦̜̱̬̳̻̳̯͗̄̌̎̇̄̓̊̓̈́̉̾̾́̀̃̈́́̑̈͘̕͘ ̸̨̨̱̤̯̟̮̗̰͚̯̮̫͎͖̙̬͉̰̳͚̒̀̅̎͛̄̌̌͛̿̅̂̿́̕ ̷̡̧̨͔͕̺͖̙͇͎̻̮̺̱̥̗̹̰͚̘̞̂́̆̍̐̄̓͂͌̎̉͂̂̈́̀͛̓͘̚̚͝ ̸̡̛̹̳̥͉͓͓̼̝͍̱̳͖̼̻̦̝͙̜̯̩̰̑̋̈́̈͑̒̂ͅ ̷̛̦̫͚̯͚̬̭̪̞̘̺͈̼̠̟̝̰̲͖̓͂̆͐̎̑̀̾̀̾̋̾͂̈́̔͘̚͘͝͝͠ ̶̡̼̰̝̳̯͓̲̼̖̹͚̓  ̶̡̡̨̛̛͇͓̘͙̰̫͖͔͇̺̠̤͓̪͔͈͉̲̮̥̲͖̹̰͚̝͔͉͓̱͓͕̼͙̤̖̯̻͈̘̭͎̝́͒̅̏̊͂̅̈́́͗̋̕͝ͅͅͅ ̶̢̢̡̡̡̡̛̹̖̳̜̟̖̘͕͙̲̭͉͕̝̠̫̹̼̖̜͇̘̱͍̪̦͕̖̣̭̫̫̘̝̟̱͕̘͂̉͑͑̑̔͌̐̋̔̄̏̓͋̉͂̑̈́̐͊̾͂̉͘͘̕͘͘ͅ ̷̲̼̬̰̼̝͖͌̿ ̷̧̢͈̩̙̜̰͙̯̝͔̲̲̩̰̤͎͎̦͒̇̐̈͂̋͗̿̿͑̚͝͝ ̵̢̢̧̗͚̩̱̭̺͕̬̥̣̤̥̦͇̫͇̝̥̜͖̜̤́͂ ̵̀̍̊̀̎̈́̅̔̐̎̾͂͆̌̐̇͘͘͝͝͝͝ ̶̧̖̤̟͚͍̼͕̟̦̗͇̠̜͍̿̍̆͂̅͆͘͠ͅ ̵̡̡̧̧̧̢͇̺͈̠̰̪̬̥͌̂͂̿̕̕͜ ̵̘̋̅̂ ̶̢͐͂̌͝ ̴̻̥̃͑̓͗

Cursed laughter echoes in his mind. 

“You can still end this.”

 

 ̶̨͕͇̘͛ ̴̨̬̮̱̈́̓̓͑̈́̈́̃̐͘̕͜ ̶͚͙̘̘̬͑̈́̐̔̂̀ ̸̳͝ ̴͖̳̗͚̈́̾͜ͅ ̵̰̙̀̓ͅ ̷̠̲̅̋̈́̿̋́̿̈́ ̷̨͎̠͇̆͛̾͘ ̸̨͉̮̪̝͇͓̲̒͒̒͆̎̑͐̋̓ ̸̥͓̼͍̄̌̏̌̎̽͑ͅ ̷̘͋̎͘̚ ̴̼̙͕͕̝͇̞̝̒̽͛̓͆̄͊̒͝ ̵̟̀̕͘ ̴̣̭̞́̄ ̵̧͎̩̟͈̟͖͓̟̽ͅ ̵̡̥̙̖͖̳̮̩͔͑̿͂́́͘͜͝͠ ̸͖̹͈̥̟̪̮̹͊͌̆͑̀͋̃̓̎̓ ̶̻̥̓́̊̄̇̒͒̚ ̵͚̾̿̋̔̅̃̕͘ ̶̗̥͖̀͒̽̒̃́͆͌ ̷͙̲̽͊̓̒̎̃̉ ̷̢̧̞͓̖͉̤͗̐̄͊̃͛̌͌͘ ̷̛̣̱̼͊͒͂̌͋̇͘ ̸̱̠̞̥̘̮̈́ ̴̛̫̗̩̓͊͑͑̋͛̉͒̐ ̵͙̮̯͉̅̂̓̒̔̓̅̀̕͜͝ ̵͎̱̭̞͙̮̱͕̏́̒͗̇͗́ ̷̥̙͆̌́͜ͅ ̵̧̡̬̭̬̼͍͕̦̝̇̐́͗͗̕͝͝ ̸̼̻̎̂̋̋̍͜ ̶͈̾̽̅̈́ ̸̭̏͘ ̷̨̮̞̖̬͔̹̙̦̾

 ̴̛̹̥̲̤̈́̀̈́̎̚͜ͅ ̶̢̢̭̹̳̦̹̓͛́̏̀͆̅͒͒ ̵͔̙̫͚̹̯̰͔̹̠̄̋͜ ̷̝̫̱̮̳͉̟̞̣̀̂̈́̏̽́̌̀̈́͛ ̶͓̖̩̠͚͍̺̙̍̍̎͜ ̴̨̪͙̠͕̖̘̒̎̂̎̈́͌͑̏͋̀̊̚̚ ̶̺͙̱̘͎͛̀̅̓ͅ ̴̭̩͈̳̳͓̝͇̠̬̟͇̞̼̌̉̓͌̇̒̌ͅ ̵̧̛̦̻̬̯̖̹͙̤̅͆͒̐̑̐͘͜͠ ̶̢̢̢̘͙̥̗̖͎̲̝͓͚̰̽͆̌̍̽̋̎̆͑͜͜͝ ̷̨͉̾̓̀͛̅̈͑̔̓͒͌͝͝ ̴̨̨̞̹͔̭̟̀̑̽͊̃͑̄͋̓́̕ͅ ̸͓͇͈͉͔͚̎̓̽̋̂̔̏̒͛͊̊͆͘ ̷̖̞̦̻͉̺͇͍̠̺͎̔̄̃̋̾͐͋̀̈́͆̈́͊̚͝ ̵̢̡̛̩̳͉̱̙̘̘̱͓̮̠͚͙̌͂̑̿̽̋̌́͊̍͠͝ ̷̪͍̞̋̎̏̈́̾̐͘͝ͅ ̵̛̞̫͇̗̑͊́ ̸̡̱̠̙̱͉̳̤̭̞̉̅̄͋̅͒ ̷̭̣̙̼̗̻̠̄̉̋̅̊̑͂͋̑̂̐̓̽̎͝ ̷̡̢̖͕͎̬̣̩͕͈̭͙̭̆̇̿̾̿̆̄͒̚͜ ̶̙̫̜̜̬̼̰̻͌̈́͑̓͛͑̓͐̋̀̎͜ͅ ̴̢̢͙̳̬̦͚̼͙̳̭̟͉̬̬̃̌ ̴̡̹̙̰̓͐̀̀̐̽̎̿͜ ̴̞͖̫̘̪̈́ ̵͍̝̠͉̀̈́͐͘͜ ̴̧̧̪̦͚̜̤̼̬͕̞̻̤̞͓̯̉̄̒ ̴̨̡͙̠͎͌̃̋͘ ̸̨̧̠̰͍̪̫͇̣̥̭͈͓̩̲̅͠ ̷̛͙͉͕̺̝̘̗̮̝̺̳͚͌͗͋̈́͐̐̂͛͠ ̸̨̦̼̘͖͑̀̓ ̷̨̗͌̍̾̋̀͆͗̈́̃̉̽͒͘̚̚͠ ̸̢̨̲̪̠̪͓̻̿̅̈̈̇̚͠ ̴̛̤̦̣̤͎̲̖̩̓̒̑̽̒̚ ̷̰̖̫̱͎̓͋͛͑̀̇́̎̈́͌̂̎̒͝͠͝ ̸̡̧̯͛͌̐͑͌̓̐̇̀̋̆̃̂͘͝͝ ̵̡̡̺̩͓̺̫̫̺͎̫̝̝̓ ̶̨̦̠͙̦̞͉̬̹̯̰̭̏͐͠͝ ̷̢̢̙̺̹͓̪̄̉́͌̀͑͌̇̋̀́̈̈́̕ ̴̱͚̞̲̰̳͂͜ ̵̢̭̭̰̖̻̘̹̹̖̼̻͔͗̄̓͜ ̴͓͋̅͛̇͊͗̕ ̷̨̨͔̓̓ ̶̨͔̣̣̭̺̞͔̌̏̀̄ͅ ̸̩͖͇̼̺̟̇̄̋̈́͋͑̍̽̌̆͘͘ ̴̢̛̛̜͚͔͚̼̬͇͓̻̙̱̪̪͇̀̎̆͆̽̍̈́̈́̉͂̐̇͠ ̸̧̤̪̲̝͇̫͎̯͈͐͑ ̶̮̟̯̘̟̳͗͌͋ ̴̨̨̨̹̪͔͔̳͇̗͚̥̀͒̂́͗̇̏̚̕ ̸̢̬̈́͂͑̏͛́͘ ̷̡̢͚͖̺͚̱̥̪̦̝̰͈̀̂̏̌̎́͛̒̃̇̀̿͘͜͝͠ͅ ̵̨̰͙͈͎͚͛̐̀͆̌ ̴̢̛̳̝͙͖̭͙̟̝͚̹̥̲̭͑͌̎̌́̏̀̽͘͘͜͝ ̶̢͖̲͕͉̗̭̭̭͇͍̜̼̞̆̅̈́͗́͂͐̈́̌̌̃̉̌̃̑͝ ̷̢̨̧̙͎̫̜̤̤̯̟̪̮̮̀̽͜ͅ ̴̨͚̪̅̒̊̓̐̉ ̴̪͈̫̗̜͗̿̄̕͜͝ ̷̢̪̯͕́̐́͌̒̌̒̕̚ ̴̠͍̥̞̰̣͖͙͂̌̔͑ ̸̡̲͉̰̪̱̫̰͖̰͔͍̜̱̬̥̅͐̈́͛̌͐̈́̑̊͗̋͌̈́̀̀̅ ̵̨̛͔̳͙̄̌̊͊́̒̎̿̐͑̕ ̵̡̩̖̣̬͐̈́̊̈́̕͝ ̶̨̢̺͚̲͔̜͎̜͙̜̗͕̻̖̾̊͆̍͗̿̽̕ ̶̧̖̤̟͚͍̼͕̟̦̗͇̠̜͍̿̍̆͂̅͆͘͠ͅ ̵̡̡̧̧̧̢͇̺͈̠̰̪̬̥͌̂͂̿̕̕͜

 ̸̛̫̉̾̒ ̵̪̗̀̿͋ ̷̖͐̋̇͗ ̵̘̋̅̂ ̶̢͐͂̌͝ ̴̻̥̃͑̓͗ ̵̡̜̹͍͂͘͝ ̷̬̫͕͌̂ ̴̺̺̠͍̇̉̀͝ ̸̴̢̛͍͔̮̹̥̲̤̄̈́̀̈́̎͘̚͜͝͝ͅ ̶̢̢̭̹̳̦̹̓͛́̏̀͆̅͒͒ ̵͔̙̫͚̹̯̰͔̹̠̄̋͜ ̷̝̫̱̮̳͉̟̞̣̀̂̈́̏̽́̌̀̈́͛ ̶͓̖̩̠͚͍̺̙̍̍̎͜ ̴̨̪͙̠͕̖̘̒̎̂̎̈́͌͑̏͋̀̊̚̚ ̶̺͙̱̘͎͛̀̅̓ͅ ̴̭̩͈̳̳͓̝͇̠̬̟͇̞̼̌̉̓͌̇̒̌ͅ ̵̧̛̦̻̬̯̖̹͙̤̅͆͒̐̑̐͘͜͠ ̶̢̢̢̘͙̥̗̖͎̲̝͓͚̰̽͆̌̍̽̋̎̆͑͜͜͝ ̷̨͉̾̓̀͛̅̈͑̔̓͒͌͝͝ ̴̨̨̞̹͔̭̟̀̑̽͊̃͑̄͋̓́̕ͅ ̸͓͇͈͉͔͚̎̓̽̋̂̔̏̒͛͊̊͆͘ ̷̖̞̦̻͉̺͇͍̠̺͎̔̄̃̋̾͐͋̀̈́͆̈́͊̚͝ ̵̢̡̛̩̳͉̱̙̘̘̱͓̮̠͚͙̌͂̑̿̽̋̌́͊̍͠͝ ̷̪͍̞̋̎̏̈́̾̐͘͝ͅ ̵̛̞̫͇̗̑͊́ ̸̡̱̠̙̱͉̳̤̭̞̉̅̄͋̅͒ ̷̭̣̙̼̗̻̠̄̉̋̅̊̑͂͋̑̂̐̓̽̎͝ ̷̡̢̖͕͎̬̣̩͕͈̭͙̭̆̇̿̾̿̆̄͒̚͜ ̶̙̫̜̜̬̼̰̻͌̈́͑̓͛͑̓͐̋̀̎͜ͅ ̴̢̢͙̳̬̦͚̼͙̳̭̟͉̬̬̃̌ ̴̡̹̙̰̓͐̀̀̐̽̎̿͜ ̴̞͖̫̘̪̈́ ̵͍̝̠͉̀̈́͐͘͜ ̴̧̧̪̦͚̜̤̼̬͕̞̻̤̞͓̯̉̄̒ ̴̨̡͙̠͎͌̃̋͘ ̸̨̧̠̰͍̪̫͇̣̥̭͈͓̩̲̅͠ ̷̛͙͉͕̺̝̘̗̮̝̺̳͚͌͗͋̈́͐̐̂͛͠ ̸̨̦̼̘͖͑̀̓ ̷̨̗͌̍̾̋̀͆͗̈́̃̉̽͒͘̚̚͠ ̸̢̨̲̪̠̪͓̻̿̅̈̈̇̚͠ ̴̛̤̦̣̤͎̲̖̩̓̒̑̽̒̚ ̷̰̖̫̱͎̓͋͛͑̀̇́̎̈́͌̂̎̒͝͠͝ ̸̡̧̯͛͌̐͑͌̓̐̇̀̋̆̃̂͘͝͝ ̵̡̡̺̩͓̺̫̫̺͎̫̝̝̓ ̶̨̦̠͙̦̞͉̬̹̯̰̭̏͐͠͝ ̷̢̢̙̺̹͓̪̄̉́͌̀͑͌̇̋̀́̈̈́̕ ̴̱͚̞̲̰̳͂͜ ̵̢̭̭̰̖̻̘̹̹̖̼̻͔͗̄̓͜ ̴͓͋̅͛̇͊͗̕ ̷̨̨͔̓̓ ̶̨͔̣̣̭̺̞͔̌̏̀̄ͅ ̸̩͖͇̼̺̟̇̄̋̈́͋͑̍̽̌̆͘͘ ̴̢̛̛̜͚͔͚̼̬͇͓̻̙̱̪̪͇̀̎̆͆̽̍̈́̈́̉͂̐̇͠ ̸̧̤̪̲̝͇̫͎̯͈͐͑ ̶̮̟̯̘̟̳͗͌͋ ̴̨̨̨̹̪͔͔̳͇̗͚̥̀͒̂́͗̇̏̚̕ ̸̢̬̈́͂͑̏͛́͘ ̷̡̢͚͖̺͚̱̥̪̦̝̰͈̀̂̏̌̎́͛̒̃̇̀̿͘͜͝͠ͅ ̵̨̰͙͈͎͚͛̐̀͆̌ ̴̢̛̳̝͙͖̭͙̟̝͚̹̥̲̭͑͌̎̌́̏̀̽͘͘͜͝ ̶̢͖̲͕͉̗̭̭̭͇͍̜̼̞̆̅̈́͗́͂͐̈́̌̌̃̉̌̃̑͝ ̷̢̨̧̙͎̫̜̤̤̯̟̪̮̮̀̽͜ͅ ̴̨͚̪̅̒̊̓̐̉ ̴̪͈̫̗̜͗̿̄̕͜͝ ̷̢̪̯͕́̐́͌̒̌̒̕̚ ̴̠͍̥̞̰̣͖͙͂̌̔͑ ̸̡̲͉̰̪̱̫̰͖̰͔͍̜̱̬̥̅͐̈́͛̌͐̈́̑̊͗̋͌̈́̀̀̅ ̵̨̛͔̳͙̄̌̊͊́̒̎̿̐͑̕ ̵̡̩̖̣̬͐̈́̊̈́̕͝ ̶̨̢̺͚̲͔̜͎̜͙̜̗͕̻̖̾̊͆̍͗̿̽̕ ̶̧̖̤̟͚͍̼͕̟̦̗͇̠̜͍̿̍̆͂̅͆͘͠ͅ ̵̡̡̧̧̧̢͇̺͈̠̰̪̬̥͌̂͂̿̕̕͜

 ̸̢̏̏̆̕ ̸̡̢̞̣͍̼̗̤̲̭̏͊͐̓̚̕ ̶̬̼̣͕̱͍̎ ̵̭̖͋͑́̿̔͒̀̐̑̄͜ ̸̘̝̝̥͚͕͎̯̀͊̑͑ͅ ̵̲͓͇̬͕̏̒̆́̊ ̶̟͙̱̯̗̼̹͔̮̱͒͂͋̕ ̵̧̘̰̘̿̔̃ ̴͓̼̠̥̽̉̇̀͛͠ ̴̛̼̝̫͂̉͛ ̷̧͓͚͎̗̩͔͚̑͆̀ͅ ̶̢̡̰̠̫̟̯̺̉͒̚ͅ ̵͈̤̘̰̝̐̕͜ ̶̢͎̟͇̙̹̾ ̵̠̼̪̲̖͙͍̉̔͗͌̅̚͘͜͝ ̶̺͉̭̜͇͊͋̆̑̌̓̕ ̶̭̺̝̭̊̌́̋̌͝ ̷̰͇̩̄͠ ̸͖͎̻̄́̈́̈́̏ ̶̧̬͈̻̤͕̟̒͌̉̈͊̚͝͝ ̶̢̯͓̻̰̼̗̲̉̕͝ ̵̛̬̲̘͕̤̩̲̄͊̉͊̈́̕ͅ ̷̣̰͎̜̬̲͒͋͌͊̈͐̂͂͜ ̶̥̤̜̺͔̍́̓̔͆̽̿̎͜͝ ̷̳̤͕͓͔̼̄̄̈́̏̌͋͐̈́ ̸̞͔̯͈̺̮̮̗̀̀͌̀͆ͅ ̵̢͚̑̈́͘ ̴̲̥̬͓̿ ̸̣͖́ ̵̱̥͎̖̤͛͊̕͜ ̶̣͕̙̰̞̒ ̷̛͎̮̼̮̌̓͑̉͌̆̏̚ͅ ̴̧͔͒̐͠ ̴̯͉͈͕̣͇̟̲̻͋͑̀̔̅͌͛̍̚ ̶̗͇̤̓̎̅͆̎̌͂̌́ ̸̧̳̝͙͈̣̯̹̉͘̚̚ ̴̙̩̭̩̙̺̐̌̓́͂̉̔̆̈́̚ͅ ̶̺͕̜̈́ ̵̪͇̬̙͔͇͇̝͒͒̕͜ͅ ̷̧͚̝̬̲̭͍͖̳̊̓̀̄̅̓̉̎̿̕ͅ ̵̯̋̅͊͗̊̈̈́͘̕ ̴͇͈̥̑̊͠ ̵̢̤̫̝͙͖̬͐͘͜͠ͅͅ ̴̜̲̉͒̇͝ ̷̬͇͐̅̇̄͘͜͠ ̴͍̟͒̈́̊̈́̋ ̶̰̩̰͆͐͊͝͝ ̴̛͔̟͉͙̠̳͚͉̄̏̄̓̕͜ͅ

 ̸̧̢̨͓̞̘̦͐̓̐̀̈̿̈́̒̋͂̔͒̽͗̂́͗̓̐̑̄̐́̚͠͝͝ ̶̛̛̯̠̬͕̂́̎͛̊͒̎͑̃͑̋̈́͑̎͋͌͒͠͠ ̴̨̬̞̭͔̼̫͍͙̖͈̜̥̲̥͎̦͕̟͔̭̍͆͌̈̒̎̒̌̒͗͂̔͛̈́͆͂̈̈́̕͜͠ ̷̯̼̻͔̼̣͔̟̄̏͝ ̵̡̢̡̣̞͈̠̯̙͕͍̘̪͎͇̗̦̖̦̪͔̜̝͕͇͔̬̍ ̴̧̛͖̫͎̺͙̪̮̜̫̣̦̥̗͔͉̭̙͕̙͈̲̫̙̈́̎̍̿͂̆̄̔̈́̋̀́́̌̐͊̐͛̈̄̓͒̚͜ͅ ̷̧̧̨̡̱͖̰̣̬̤̤͔̘͔̟̬̳̦̬͙͎͕͖̘̖̭̤͑͆͑͒͋̌̃̂͒͑̑͛̆̉̏̍̓̓̾̚̚͘͝͠͠ͅ ̸̛̤́̓̀̄̇͑̾͗̋̓͛͒̄ ̴̧̞͔̭̠̩̮͉̫͕͈͈͎̻̰͍̳̲̞̳̘̾̄͛͊̒͑̈̍͛̑͋̔̏́̍̈̇̂̊̅̐̕͝ ̶̛̫̲͎̰͕̘̩͙͓͍̥͓̬̽̏͐͐̂̏̑̽́̂̽̂̉͑̑̾̂̄̽̂͋͠͝ ̷̖͎̩̙͚̖̟̬̬̖̱̣͕̽̿̓́͗̇͒̀͌͋̀͊̽͒͂͗̕̕͠ ̶̡̡̨̛̛͇͓̘͙̰̫͖͔͇̺̠̤͓̪͔͈͉̲̮̥̲͖̹̰͚̝͔͉͓̱͓͕̼͙̤̖̯̻͈̘̭͎̝́͒̅̏̊͂̅̈́́͗̋̕͝ͅͅͅ ̶̢̢̡̡̡̡̛̹̖̳̜̟̖̘͕͙̲̭͉͕̝̠̫̹̼̖̜͇̘̱͍̪̦͕̖̣̭̫̫̘̝̟̱͕̘͂̉͑͑̑̔͌̐̋̔̄̏̓͋̉͂̑̈́̐͊̾͂̉͘͘̕͘͘ͅ ̷̧̧̛̻̫̗͖̟̬͔̘̣͚͇̇͐̈́̃͗̑͛̇̀̋̏͌͋̀̅͋̍̓̏͋̋̉̕͘͘͜͝͝ ̶̧̧̻͖͙͚͉̰̜͓̮̲͚͕̩͚̣̱̙̘͖͓͍̺̮̙͛̐̓̕ͅ ̸̢̘̰͇̙̮̣͖̺̥̜̲̜͚̦̙̯͕͍͉̹̯̟̤͈͖̔̕͜ͅ ̶̧̡̛̛̝̤̳̲̼̣̬̭̲͓͖͇͔͙̽͊͆́͐͌͒̊́̀̂͊͊̈́̒̆͆̈́͌͌̕͠ ̴̠̫̞̗̤͈̂̄͛̈̒̍̈́̀̄̂̿̋̿̄̐͑̉̔̐̏͘͝͝͝  ̴̢̨̢̨̩͓͓̬̪̙͕͎̱̫̣̗͉̖̜̠͈͈̼̥̳̩̻͍̯̲̱̱̯͇̫͍̖͇͖̝͈̙̬̍̇͑̃̋̈́̐͊͌͑̚̚͘͠͝ͅ ̴̨̨̧̢̨̧̟̱̫͉̻̥̼̫̣͈͚̬̜̣̣̯̫̣̬̗͇̟̼̫͕̟̮͔̠̆̀͆̂̇̎͂̈̉̀̊͗͛́́̽͗͐͐̈̈́͐͂͂̇̈̆̊̃͂͊̋̒̎̎̈́̚̕͜͜͠ ̵̧̢̧̡̢̻̩̬̳͍̲̦̖͓͉̲̙͈͚̯͍̞̖̖̞̯̠̞̬̳̘̪͕̪̞̱̇̒̅̉́̊̃̉̀͜ͅ ̶̷̡̡̧͖͎̼̭̖͓̲̭̩͚̲̬̰̭̥̞̭̻̜̠̼̩̮̥̜̗̱͎̗̗̪̗̟̰̥͔̣̞̬͕͓̜͙̬̹̗̠͈̹̼̖͉̺̮͚͖̙̓̿̄̈́͊͋̈͛͒̊͂̀͛͛́̋͋̀́̃̏̽̀̓̆͐̍́̆͌̎͆̋͋̎͊͆̈́̓́̓̀̇͂͊̀̚̕̕͝͝͝͠͠ ̸̧̛̛͕̲͔̜͉͇̂͑̅͛̊͑̄̽̈́͆͊̎̅̇̐̅̕͝ ̶̨̟̝͉̭̳̼̹͇̯͈̱͖̪͍̙̂̏̅̓̉̄̑̈́̒͂̃̊̔̓̃̔̎̕͘̕͠͠͠͠͝͝͝ ̷̨̳̙̺̲̭̳̠̩̱̞̖̯̦̭̾͋̌̂̿̒̓̎͗ͅ ̷̧̢̡̹̘̘̝̝̦͚͉͚͕̖̳̞̫̝͓̩̣͓̮͓̙̘̌͒́̊͆͒̆̀͌͌͜ͅ ̷͚̮͇̘̱̯͍͙̙̯̝̤̲̠̯̫͓̱͍̱͖̃̾ ̵̞̫̠̹͙̪̩̠̞̟̫̀͆͊̃͋͐͋̀̽̈́̌̕̕ ̵̡̢̠̖̘̰̮̣̤̙̍̅̄͒̃͛͑͒͘̚͜ ̸̩̠̑̑͊͑̍̄̒̇́̉͗͂͒͋̽̌̕̚͘̚͝͠ ̴̡̧̢̞̼̘͙̣̤̲̫̠̺̦͍̼̼͍̺͈̝̥͕̖̹͛̇̍̈́̀̂̑̓̋̑͌̑̓̅́̊̍͗̄͆͑̔͘͜͝ ̵̢̨͙̙̺̇̀͛̆̈́̓̒̓̃̿̉́͆͂͝͝͠ͅ ̵̨̟͙̟͕̥̠̩̆̐͂̑̎̐͋̌̏͜͠ ̶̧̢̨̛̫͇̮͉͈̠̳̦̜̱̬̳̻̳̯͗̄̌̎̇̄̓̊̓̈́̉̾̾́̀̃̈́́̑̈͘̕͘ ̸̨̨̱̤̯̟̮̗̰͚̯̮̫͎͖̙̬͉̰̳͚̒̀̅̎͛̄̌̌͛̿̅̂̿́̕ ̷̡̧̨͔͕̺͖̙͇͎̻̮̺̱̥̗̹̰͚̘̞̂́̆̍̐̄̓͂͌̎̉͂̂̈́̀͛̓͘̚̚͝ ̸̡̛̹̳̥͉͓͓̼̝͍̱̳͖̼̻̦̝͙̜̯̩̰̑̋̈́̈͑̒̂ͅ ̷̛̦̫͚̯͚̬̭̪̞̘̺͈̼̠̟̝̰̲͖̓͂̆͐̎̑̀̾̀̾̋̾͂̈́̔͘̚͘͝͝͠ ̶̡̼̰̝̳̯͓̲̼̖̹͚̓  ̶̡̡̨̛̛͇͓̘͙̰̫͖͔͇̺̠̤͓̪͔͈͉̲̮̥̲͖̹̰͚̝͔͉͓̱͓͕̼͙̤̖̯̻͈̘̭͎̝́͒̅̏̊͂̅̈́́͗̋̕͝ͅͅͅ ̶̢̢̡̡̡̡̛̹̖̳̜̟̖̘͕͙̲̭͉͕̝̠̫̹̼̖̜͇̘̱͍̪̦͕̖̣̭̫̫̘̝̟̱͕̘͂̉͑͑̑̔͌̐̋̔̄̏̓͋̉͂̑̈́̐͊̾͂̉͘͘̕͘͘ͅ ̷̲̼̬̰̼̝͖͌̿ ̷̧̢͈̩̙̜̰͙̯̝͔̲̲̩̰̤͎͎̦͒̇̐̈͂̋͗̿̿͑̚͝͝ ̵̢̢̧̗͚̩̱̭̺͕̬̥̣̤̥̦͇̫͇̝̥̜͖̜̤́͂ ̵͙̝͎̀̍̊̀̎̈́̅̔̐̎̾͂͆̌̐̇̉͗̋͋͘͘͝͝͝͝͝ͅ ̴̧̖̩̬͓̙̮͇͈̺̹͖́̌̀͊͑̊̓̿͂̅͒̊͋́͆̓͜͝͝͝͝ ̸̧͚͓̹̰̭͔͔̝͓͔̜̩͓̥̒̏̿́̈́̂͌̿͂̈́̍͊̿̂̀̓̾̚̚̕͜͠͝  ̶̢̢̺̻̳̭̘̩̙̼͍͈̣̰̠̠̹̑̈̔̈́͊̈́̉̏̏͆̓̃̕͝ͅ ̴̨̧̡̛͎̮̘̹̬͚̫̱̥̲͔͎͇͈̠̲͇̳̮̙̦̠͙͈̭̠͕͔͈͖͇̔̐̑͒́̔̒̈́̊̍͐̅͗͐͊̽̾́̑̉͌̾̀̀͌̾̚͘͜͜͝ͅͅͅͅ ̸̡̝̣̤̟͚̦͚̠̺̯̙̀̔́̓͗̔̓̀̕̚ ̸̨̨̡̞̩̠͔̰̱̦̦̝͎̦̖͉̩̜̱̰͎̗͓͌͑́́͜͜ ̷̧̪͎̦̞͇͍̗̠̯̦̪̯̠̥̿̈́̈͑̊̚̕͜ͅ ̵͍̗̮̹̪̦̬͇̣̻̭̻͒̒͛̾̈́̆̓̚ ̴̺̤̾́́̓̓̐̂̄͂̇͛̕ ̴̡̪͉̦͈̯̞̼͙̞̫̬̼̩̥̆͌̍̓̀͐̀͊̐̑͆͊́͌́̋̈̍̑͐̐͜͝͝͝͝ ̷̛̜̉̇̑́̍̔̄̒̃̅̚̕̕͝͝ ̶̡̖̰̠͖̙̬͓͇̜͚̲̼̝̖̓͆̎͊̑̍͐̈́́͝ ̶̢̠̮̮̺̹͙̤̮͈͕͚̱̠͖͈̻́̓̉̓͐̉́͒́̓͌̌̌͒̑́̈́̕ ̵̨̘̲̩͙̫̗̖̟͎͍͉̤͕͙̞̮̼͍̜̪̯͎̉ ̷̢̢̢̡͉̮̪̠͍̗̞͙̰̞͍̼̠͖̭̳͈̜̥̍́̓̽͒̽͘͜͜͝ ̴̡̢̛̭̼͓͉̯̲̱̻̂̀̍ ̵̢̛̛̼͔͖̮̝̼̜̠̗̱̼͍̣̭͖̬̗̘͙̜̥̹̺̐͂̍̔̌́͒̐̌̈́͆̾̎̚͝͝͝ͅ ̷̡̯̦͚̝͇͍̳̝̗̟͚̠̯̹͚͙̺̦̭̼͕̉̆́̂̋͒̋͊͊̾͂̌̍̽͊ ̶̢̧̡̟͕̪̱̰͙̼̠̪̠̥͎̫̞͎͕̩͖̥͙̰̲̙̭̇̈́̓̒͒̄̉̊̒̿̾͑͒̂͘̕͜͝ ̷̶̢̧̨̢̲̠̘̙̩̫̣͓̼̺͚̲͔̜͎̜͙̜̗͕̻̖͂͋̑͛̓̏̄̇͒̑̎̊̃̾̋͗̂̈́͊̅̀̈́̾̊͆̍͗̿̽̕̕͠͠ ̶̧̖̤̟͚͍̼͕̟̦̗͇̠̜͍̿̍̆͂̅͆͘͠ͅ ̵̡̡̧̧̧̢͇̺͈̠̰̪̬̥͌̂͂̿̕̕͜

̴̛̹̥̲̤̈́̀̈́̎̚͜ͅ ̶̢̢̭̹̳̦̹̓͛́̏̀͆̅͒͒ ̵͔̙̫͚̹̯̰͔̹̠̄̋͜ ̷̝̫̱̮̳͉̟̞̣̀̂̈́̏̽́̌̀̈́͛ ̶͓̖̩̠͚͍̺̙̍̍̎͜ ̴̨̪͙̠͕̖̘̒̎̂̎̈́͌͑̏͋̀̊̚̚ ̶̺͙̱̘͎͛̀̅̓ͅ ̴̭̩͈̳̳͓̝͇̠̬̟͇̞̼̌̉̓͌̇̒̌ͅ ̵̧̛̦̻̬̯̖̹͙̤̅͆͒̐̑̐͘͜͠ ̶̢̢̢̘͙̥̗̖͎̲̝͓͚̰̽͆̌̍̽̋̎̆͑͜͜͝ ̷̨͉̾̓̀͛̅̈͑̔̓͒͌͝͝ ̴̨̨̞̹͔̭̟̀̑̽͊̃͑̄͋̓́̕ͅ ̸͓͇͈͉͔͚̎̓̽̋̂̔̏̒͛͊̊͆͘ ̷̖̞̦̻͉̺͇͍̠̺͎̔̄̃̋̾͐͋̀̈́͆̈́͊̚͝ ̵̢̡̛̩̳͉̱̙̘̘̱͓̮̠͚͙̌͂̑̿̽̋̌́͊̍͠͝ ̷̪͍̞̋̎̏̈́̾̐͘͝ͅ ̵̛̞̫͇̗̑͊́ ̸̡̱̠̙̱͉̳̤̭̞̉̅̄͋̅͒ ̷̭̣̙̼̗̻̠̄̉̋̅̊̑͂͋̑̂̐̓̽̎͝ ̷̡̢̖͕͎̬̣̩͕͈̭͙̭̆̇̿̾̿̆̄͒̚͜ ̶̙̫̜̜̬̼̰̻͌̈́͑̓͛͑̓͐̋̀̎͜ͅ ̴̢̢͙̳̬̦͚̼͙̳̭̟͉̬̬̃̌ ̴̡̹̙̰̓͐̀̀̐̽̎̿͜ ̴̞͖̫̘̪̈́ ̵͍̝̠͉̀̈́͐͘͜ ̴̧̧̪̦͚̜̤̼̬͕̞̻̤̞͓̯̉̄̒ ̴̨̡͙̠͎͌̃̋͘ ̸̨̧̠̰͍̪̫͇̣̥̭͈͓̩̲̅͠ ̷̛͙͉͕̺̝̘̗̮̝̺̳͚͌͗͋̈́͐̐̂͛͠ ̸̨̦̼̘͖͑̀̓ ̷̨̗͌̍̾̋̀͆͗̈́̃̉̽͒͘̚̚͠ ̸̢̨̲̪̠̪͓̻̿̅̈̈̇̚͠ ̴̛̤̦̣̤͎̲̖̩̓̒̑̽̒̚ ̷̰̖̫̱͎̓͋͛͑̀̇́̎̈́͌̂̎̒͝͠͝ ̸̡̧̯͛͌̐͑͌̓̐̇̀̋̆̃̂͘͝͝ ̵̡̡̺̩͓̺̫̫̺͎̫̝̝̓ ̶̨̦̠͙̦̞͉̬̹̯̰̭̏͐͠͝ ̷̢̢̙̺̹͓̪̄̉́͌̀͑͌̇̋̀́̈̈́̕ ̴̱͚̞̲̰̳͂͜ ̵̢̭̭̰̖̻̘̹̹̖̼̻͔͗̄̓͜ ̴͓͋̅͛̇͊͗̕ ̷̨̨͔̓̓ ̶̨͔̣̣̭̺̞͔̌̏̀̄ͅ ̸̩͖͇̼̺̟̇̄̋̈́͋͑̍̽̌̆͘͘ ̴̢̛̛̜͚͔͚̼̬͇͓̻̙̱̪̪͇̀̎̆͆̽̍̈́̈́̉͂̐̇͠ ̸̧̤̪̲̝͇̫͎̯͈͐͑ ̶̮̟̯̘̟̳͗͌͋ ̴̨̨̨̹̪͔͔̳͇̗͚̥̀͒̂́͗̇̏̚̕ ̸̢̬̈́͂͑̏͛́͘ ̷̡̢͚͖̺͚̱̥̪̦̝̰͈̀̂̏̌̎́͛̒̃̇̀̿͘͜͝͠ͅ ̵̨̰͙͈͎͚͛̐̀͆̌ ̴̢̛̳̝͙͖̭͙̟̝͚̹̥̲̭͑͌̎̌́̏̀̽͘͘͜͝ ̶̢͖̲͕͉̗̭̭̭͇͍̜̼̞̆̅̈́͗́͂͐̈́̌̌̃̉̌̃̑͝ ̷̢̨̧̙͎̫̜̤̤̯̟̪̮̮̀̽͜ͅ ̴̨͚̪̅̒̊̓̐̉ ̴̪͈̫̗̜͗̿̄̕͜͝ ̷̢̪̯͕́̐́͌̒̌̒̕̚ ̴̠͍̥̞̰̣͖͙͂̌̔͑ ̸̡̲͉̰̪̱̫̰͖̰͔͍̜̱̬̥̅͐̈́͛̌͐̈́̑̊͗̋͌̈́̀̀̅ ̵̨̛͔̳͙̄̌̊͊́̒̎̿̐͑̕ ̵̡̩̖̣̬͐̈́̊̈́̕͝ ̶̨̢̺͚̲͔̜͎̜͙̜̗͕̻̖̾̊͆̍͗̿̽̕ ̶̧̖̤̟͚͍̼͕̟̦̗͇̠̜͍̿̍̆͂̅͆͘͠ͅ ̵̡̡̧̧̧̢͇̺͈̠̰̪̬̥͌̂͂̿̕̕͜

“No.” 

Expecting to greet the same fate as the rabbit he just killed, Ishmelga’s eyes widen in disbelief when he feels a warmth—not the striking heat from these chaotic flames in the mindscape or the boiling sensation of them merging—that soothingly envelops his front and wraps around his back. 

Is this a damn hug?!

He’s absolutely furious. That sacrifice was supposed to wake him up and finally banish Ishmelga for good. Why is he the only one upset? Why is he the only one angry?!

“What are you doing?!” he snarls, clawing at his other half’s back before realizing that his fingers are disappearing. “Didn’t you care about her?!”

“I do, but I can’t change what you… what we’ve done. I just know that we can’t afford to let her sacrifice be in vain.” It’s eerie how calm and patient his other half is despite the pain reflected deep in his eyes. How can anyone be full of unwavering conviction in a situation like this? “Besides, I'm not the one here who's crying.”

Furiously blinking the tears away and begging the flames to evaporate all his emotions and thoughts, he shouts in denial. Especially when his other half squeezes him tighter.

Ah… This is what he’d been trying to avoid. 

Weakness begets kindness. 

And he’s at the mercy of the kindest person he knows. 

“You've made your choice,” R̵e̴a̵n says firmly, the determined glint in his eyes as stubborn as Altina’s had been. “I will not back down on mine.”

“You…” 

And the flames erupt. From red to azure to pure white— They drown in an inferno of rainbow shades, their corporeal forms melting away to be forged into something else. All it takes is a blink to no longer see his other self.

A voice lingers. Before everything else disappears as well. 

 

“We will see this through.”

 ̶̨͕͇̘͛ ̴̨̬̮̱̈́̓̓͑̈́̈́̃̐͘̕͜ ̶͚͙̘̘̬͑̈́̐̔̂̀ ̸̳͝ ̴͖̳̗͚̈́̾͜ͅ ̵̰̙̀̓ͅ ̷̠̲̅̋̈́̿̋́̿̈́ ̷̨͎̠͇̆͛̾͘ ̸̨͉̮̪̝͇͓̲̒͒̒͆̎̑͐̋̓ ̸̥͓̼͍̄̌̏̌̎̽͑ͅ ̷̘͋̎͘̚ ̴̼̙͕͕̝͇̞̝̒̽͛̓͆̄͊̒͝ ̵̟̀̕͘ ̴̣̭̞́̄ ̵̧͎̩̟͈̟͖͓̟̽ͅ ̵̡̥̙̖͖̳̮̩͔͑̿͂́́͘͜͝͠ ̸͖̹͈̥̟̪̮̹͊͌̆͑̀͋̃̓̎̓ ̶̻̥̓́̊̄̇̒͒̚ ̵͚̾̿̋̔̅̃̕͘ ̶̗̥͖̀͒̽̒̃́͆͌ ̷͙̲̽͊̓̒̎̃̉ ̷̢̧̞͓̖͉̤͗̐̄͊̃͛̌͌͘ ̷̛̣̱̼͊͒͂̌͋̇͘ ̸̱̠̞̥̘̮̈́ ̴̛̫̗̩̓͊͑͑̋͛̉͒̐ ̵͙̮̯͉̅̂̓̒̔̓̅̀̕͜͝ ̵͎̱̭̞͙̮̱͕̏́̒͗̇͗́ ̷̥̙͆̌́͜ͅ ̵̧̡̬̭̬̼͍͕̦̝̇̐́͗͗̕͝͝ ̸̼̻̎̂̋̋̍͜ ̶͈̾̽̅̈́ ̸̭̏͘ ̷̨̮̞̖̬͔̹̙̦̾

 ̴̛̹̥̲̤̈́̀̈́̎̚͜ͅ ̶̢̢̭̹̳̦̹̓͛́̏̀͆̅͒͒ ̵͔̙̫͚̹̯̰͔̹̠̄̋͜ ̷̝̫̱̮̳͉̟̞̣̀̂̈́̏̽́̌̀̈́͛ ̶͓̖̩̠͚͍̺̙̍̍̎͜ ̴̨̪͙̠͕̖̘̒̎̂̎̈́͌͑̏͋̀̊̚̚ ̶̺͙̱̘͎͛̀̅̓ͅ ̴̭̩͈̳̳͓̝͇̠̬̟͇̞̼̌̉̓͌̇̒̌ͅ ̵̧̛̦̻̬̯̖̹͙̤̅͆͒̐̑̐͘͜͠ ̶̢̢̢̘͙̥̗̖͎̲̝͓͚̰̽͆̌̍̽̋̎̆͑͜͜͝ ̷̨͉̾̓̀͛̅̈͑̔̓͒͌͝͝ ̴̨̨̞̹͔̭̟̀̑̽͊̃͑̄͋̓́̕ͅ ̸͓͇͈͉͔͚̎̓̽̋̂̔̏̒͛͊̊͆͘ ̷̖̞̦̻͉̺͇͍̠̺͎̔̄̃̋̾͐͋̀̈́͆̈́͊̚͝ ̵̢̡̛̩̳͉̱̙̘̘̱͓̮̠͚͙̌͂̑̿̽̋̌́͊̍͠͝ ̷̪͍̞̋̎̏̈́̾̐͘͝ͅ ̵̛̞̫͇̗̑͊́ ̸̡̱̠̙̱͉̳̤̭̞̉̅̄͋̅͒ ̷̭̣̙̼̗̻̠̄̉̋̅̊̑͂͋̑̂̐̓̽̎͝ ̷̡̢̖͕͎̬̣̩͕͈̭͙̭̆̇̿̾̿̆̄͒̚͜ ̶̙̫̜̜̬̼̰̻͌̈́͑̓͛͑̓͐̋̀̎͜ͅ ̴̢̢͙̳̬̦͚̼͙̳̭̟͉̬̬̃̌ ̴̡̹̙̰̓͐̀̀̐̽̎̿͜ ̴̞͖̫̘̪̈́ ̵͍̝̠͉̀̈́͐͘͜ ̴̧̧̪̦͚̜̤̼̬͕̞̻̤̞͓̯̉̄̒ ̴̨̡͙̠͎͌̃̋͘ ̸̨̧̠̰͍̪̫͇̣̥̭͈͓̩̲̅͠ ̷̛͙͉͕̺̝̘̗̮̝̺̳͚͌͗͋̈́͐̐̂͛͠ ̸̨̦̼̘͖͑̀̓ ̷̨̗͌̍̾̋̀͆͗̈́̃̉̽͒͘̚̚͠ ̸̢̨̲̪̠̪͓̻̿̅̈̈̇̚͠ ̴̛̤̦̣̤͎̲̖̩̓̒̑̽̒̚ ̷̰̖̫̱͎̓͋͛͑̀̇́̎̈́͌̂̎̒͝͠͝ ̸̡̧̯͛͌̐͑͌̓̐̇̀̋̆̃̂͘͝͝ ̵̡̡̺̩͓̺̫̫̺͎̫̝̝̓ ̶̨̦̠͙̦̞͉̬̹̯̰̭̏͐͠͝ ̷̢̢̙̺̹͓̪̄̉́͌̀͑͌̇̋̀́̈̈́̕ ̴̱͚̞̲̰̳͂͜ ̵̢̭̭̰̖̻̘̹̹̖̼̻͔͗̄̓͜ ̴͓͋̅͛̇͊͗̕ ̷̨̨͔̓̓ ̶̨͔̣̣̭̺̞͔̌̏̀̄ͅ ̸̩͖͇̼̺̟̇̄̋̈́͋͑̍̽̌̆͘͘ ̴̢̛̛̜͚͔͚̼̬͇͓̻̙̱̪̪͇̀̎̆͆̽̍̈́̈́̉͂̐̇͠ ̸̧̤̪̲̝͇̫͎̯͈͐͑ ̶̮̟̯̘̟̳͗͌͋ ̴̨̨̨̹̪͔͔̳͇̗͚̥̀͒̂́͗̇̏̚̕ ̸̢̬̈́͂͑̏͛́͘ ̷̡̢͚͖̺͚̱̥̪̦̝̰͈̀̂̏̌̎́͛̒̃̇̀̿͘͜͝͠ͅ ̵̨̰͙͈͎͚͛̐̀͆̌ ̴̢̛̳̝͙͖̭͙̟̝͚̹̥̲̭͑͌̎̌́̏̀̽͘͘͜͝ ̶̢͖̲͕͉̗̭̭̭͇͍̜̼̞̆̅̈́͗́͂͐̈́̌̌̃̉̌̃̑͝ ̷̢̨̧̙͎̫̜̤̤̯̟̪̮̮̀̽͜ͅ ̴̨͚̪̅̒̊̓̐̉ ̴̪͈̫̗̜͗̿̄̕͜͝ ̷̢̪̯͕́̐́͌̒̌̒̕̚ ̴̠͍̥̞̰̣͖͙͂̌̔͑ ̸̡̲͉̰̪̱̫̰͖̰͔͍̜̱̬̥̅͐̈́͛̌͐̈́̑̊͗̋͌̈́̀̀̅ ̵̨̛͔̳͙̄̌̊͊́̒̎̿̐͑̕ ̵̡̩̖̣̬͐̈́̊̈́̕͝ ̶̨̢̺͚̲͔̜͎̜͙̜̗͕̻̖̾̊͆̍͗̿̽̕ ̶̧̖̤̟͚͍̼͕̟̦̗͇̠̜͍̿̍̆͂̅͆͘͠ͅ ̵̡̡̧̧̧̢͇̺͈̠̰̪̬̥͌̂͂̿̕̕͜

 ̸̛̫̉̾̒ ̵̪̗̀̿͋ ̷̖͐̋̇͗ ̵̘̋̅̂ ̶̢͐͂̌͝ ̴̻̥̃͑̓͗ ̵̡̜̹͍͂͘͝ ̷̬̫͕͌̂ ̴̺̺̠͍̇̉̀͝ ̸̴̢̛͍͔̮̹̥̲̤̄̈́̀̈́̎͘̚͜͝͝ͅ ̶̢̢̭̹̳̦̹̓͛́̏̀͆̅͒͒ ̵͔̙̫͚̹̯̰͔̹̠̄̋͜ ̷̝̫̱̮̳͉̟̞̣̀̂̈́̏̽́̌̀̈́͛ ̶͓̖̩̠͚͍̺̙̍̍̎͜ ̴̨̪͙̠͕̖̘̒̎̂̎̈́͌͑̏͋̀̊̚̚ ̶̺͙̱̘͎͛̀̅̓ͅ ̴̭̩͈̳̳͓̝͇̠̬̟͇̞̼̌̉̓͌̇̒̌ͅ ̵̧̛̦̻̬̯̖̹͙̤̅͆͒̐̑̐͘͜͠ ̶̢̢̢̘͙̥̗̖͎̲̝͓͚̰̽͆̌̍̽̋̎̆͑͜͜͝ ̷̨͉̾̓̀͛̅̈͑̔̓͒͌͝͝ ̴̨̨̞̹͔̭̟̀̑̽͊̃͑̄͋̓́̕ͅ ̸͓͇͈͉͔͚̎̓̽̋̂̔̏̒͛͊̊͆͘ ̷̖̞̦̻͉̺͇͍̠̺͎̔̄̃̋̾͐͋̀̈́͆̈́͊̚͝ ̵̢̡̛̩̳͉̱̙̘̘̱͓̮̠͚͙̌͂̑̿̽̋̌́͊̍͠͝ ̷̪͍̞̋̎̏̈́̾̐͘͝ͅ ̵̛̞̫͇̗̑͊́ ̸̡̱̠̙̱͉̳̤̭̞̉̅̄͋̅͒ ̷̭̣̙̼̗̻̠̄̉̋̅̊̑͂͋̑̂̐̓̽̎͝ ̷̡̢̖͕͎̬̣̩͕͈̭͙̭̆̇̿̾̿̆̄͒̚͜ ̶̙̫̜̜̬̼̰̻͌̈́͑̓͛͑̓͐̋̀̎͜ͅ ̴̢̢͙̳̬̦͚̼͙̳̭̟͉̬̬̃̌ ̴̡̹̙̰̓͐̀̀̐̽̎̿͜ ̴̞͖̫̘̪̈́ ̵͍̝̠͉̀̈́͐͘͜ ̴̧̧̪̦͚̜̤̼̬͕̞̻̤̞͓̯̉̄̒ ̴̨̡͙̠͎͌̃̋͘ ̸̨̧̠̰͍̪̫͇̣̥̭͈͓̩̲̅͠ ̷̛͙͉͕̺̝̘̗̮̝̺̳͚͌͗͋̈́͐̐̂͛͠ ̸̨̦̼̘͖͑̀̓ ̷̨̗͌̍̾̋̀͆͗̈́̃̉̽͒͘̚̚͠ ̸̢̨̲̪̠̪͓̻̿̅̈̈̇̚͠ ̴̛̤̦̣̤͎̲̖̩̓̒̑̽̒̚ ̷̰̖̫̱͎̓͋͛͑̀̇́̎̈́͌̂̎̒͝͠͝ ̸̡̧̯͛͌̐͑͌̓̐̇̀̋̆̃̂͘͝͝ ̵̡̡̺̩͓̺̫̫̺͎̫̝̝̓ ̶̨̦̠͙̦̞͉̬̹̯̰̭̏͐͠͝ ̷̢̢̙̺̹͓̪̄̉́͌̀͑͌̇̋̀́̈̈́̕ ̴̱͚̞̲̰̳͂͜ ̵̢̭̭̰̖̻̘̹̹̖̼̻͔͗̄̓͜ ̴͓͋̅͛̇͊͗̕ ̷̨̨͔̓̓ ̶̨͔̣̣̭̺̞͔̌̏̀̄ͅ ̸̩͖͇̼̺̟̇̄̋̈́͋͑̍̽̌̆͘͘ ̴̢̛̛̜͚͔͚̼̬͇͓̻̙̱̪̪͇̀̎̆͆̽̍̈́̈́̉͂̐̇͠ ̸̧̤̪̲̝͇̫͎̯͈͐͑ ̶̮̟̯̘̟̳͗͌͋ ̴̨̨̨̹̪͔͔̳͇̗͚̥̀͒̂́͗̇̏̚̕ ̸̢̬̈́͂͑̏͛́͘ ̷̡̢͚͖̺͚̱̥̪̦̝̰͈̀̂̏̌̎́͛̒̃̇̀̿͘͜͝͠ͅ ̵̨̰͙͈͎͚͛̐̀͆̌ ̴̢̛̳̝͙͖̭͙̟̝͚̹̥̲̭͑͌̎̌́̏̀̽͘͘͜͝ ̶̢͖̲͕͉̗̭̭̭͇͍̜̼̞̆̅̈́͗́͂͐̈́̌̌̃̉̌̃̑͝ ̷̢̨̧̙͎̫̜̤̤̯̟̪̮̮̀̽͜ͅ ̴̨͚̪̅̒̊̓̐̉ ̴̪͈̫̗̜͗̿̄̕͜͝ ̷̢̪̯͕́̐́͌̒̌̒̕̚ ̴̠͍̥̞̰̣͖͙͂̌̔͑ ̸̡̲͉̰̪̱̫̰͖̰͔͍̜̱̬̥̅͐̈́͛̌͐̈́̑̊͗̋͌̈́̀̀̅ ̵̨̛͔̳͙̄̌̊͊́̒̎̿̐͑̕ ̵̡̩̖̣̬͐̈́̊̈́̕͝ ̶̨̢̺͚̲͔̜͎̜͙̜̗͕̻̖̾̊͆̍͗̿̽̕ ̶̧̖̤̟͚͍̼͕̟̦̗͇̠̜͍̿̍̆͂̅͆͘͠ͅ ̵̡̡̧̧̧̢͇̺͈̠̰̪̬̥͌̂͂̿̕̕͜

 ̸̢̏̏̆̕ ̸̡̢̞̣͍̼̗̤̲̭̏͊͐̓̚̕ ̶̬̼̣͕̱͍̎ ̵̭̖͋͑́̿̔͒̀̐̑̄͜ ̸̘̝̝̥͚͕͎̯̀͊̑͑ͅ ̵̲͓͇̬͕̏̒̆́̊ ̶̟͙̱̯̗̼̹͔̮̱͒͂͋̕ ̵̧̘̰̘̿̔̃ ̴͓̼̠̥̽̉̇̀͛͠ ̴̛̼̝̫͂̉͛ ̷̧͓͚͎̗̩͔͚̑͆̀ͅ ̶̢̡̰̠̫̟̯̺̉͒̚ͅ ̵͈̤̘̰̝̐̕͜ ̶̢͎̟͇̙̹̾ ̵̠̼̪̲̖͙͍̉̔͗͌̅̚͘͜͝ ̶̺͉̭̜͇͊͋̆̑̌̓̕ ̶̭̺̝̭̊̌́̋̌͝ ̷̰͇̩̄͠ ̸͖͎̻̄́̈́̈́̏ ̶̧̬͈̻̤͕̟̒͌̉̈͊̚͝͝ ̶̢̯͓̻̰̼̗̲̉̕͝ ̵̛̬̲̘͕̤̩̲̄͊̉͊̈́̕ͅ ̷̣̰͎̜̬̲͒͋͌͊̈͐̂͂͜ ̶̥̤̜̺͔̍́̓̔͆̽̿̎͜͝ ̷̳̤͕͓͔̼̄̄̈́̏̌͋͐̈́ ̸̞͔̯͈̺̮̮̗̀̀͌̀͆ͅ ̵̢͚̑̈́͘ ̴̲̥̬͓̿ ̸̣͖́ ̵̱̥͎̖̤͛͊̕͜ ̶̣͕̙̰̞̒ ̷̛͎̮̼̮̌̓͑̉͌̆̏̚ͅ ̴̧͔͒̐͠ ̴̯͉͈͕̣͇̟̲̻͋͑̀̔̅͌͛̍̚ ̶̗͇̤̓̎̅͆̎̌͂̌́ ̸̧̳̝͙͈̣̯̹̉͘̚̚ ̴̙̩̭̩̙̺̐̌̓́͂̉̔̆̈́̚ͅ ̶̺͕̜̈́ ̵̪͇̬̙͔͇͇̝͒͒̕͜ͅ ̷̧͚̝̬̲̭͍͖̳̊̓̀̄̅̓̉̎̿̕ͅ ̵̯̋̅͊͗̊̈̈́͘̕ ̴͇͈̥̑̊͠ ̵̢̤̫̝͙͖̬͐͘͜͠ͅͅ ̴̜̲̉͒̇͝ ̷̬͇͐̅̇̄͘͜͠ ̴͍̟͒̈́̊̈́̋ ̶̰̩̰͆͐͊͝͝ ̴̛͔̟͉͙̠̳͚͉̄̏̄̓̕͜ͅ

 ̸̧̢̨͓̞̘̦͐̓̐̀̈̿̈́̒̋͂̔͒̽͗̂́͗̓̐̑̄̐́̚͠͝͝ ̶̛̛̯̠̬͕̂́̎͛̊͒̎͑̃͑̋̈́͑̎͋͌͒͠͠ ̴̨̬̞̭͔̼̫͍͙̖͈̜̥̲̥͎̦͕̟͔̭̍͆͌̈̒̎̒̌̒͗͂̔͛̈́͆͂̈̈́̕͜͠ ̷̯̼̻͔̼̣͔̟̄̏͝ ̵̡̢̡̣̞͈̠̯̙͕͍̘̪͎͇̗̦̖̦̪͔̜̝͕͇͔̬̍ ̴̧̛͖̫͎̺͙̪̮̜̫̣̦̥̗͔͉̭̙͕̙͈̲̫̙̈́̎̍̿͂̆̄̔̈́̋̀́́̌̐͊̐͛̈̄̓͒̚͜ͅ ̷̧̧̨̡̱͖̰̣̬̤̤͔̘͔̟̬̳̦̬͙͎͕͖̘̖̭̤͑͆͑͒͋̌̃̂͒͑̑͛̆̉̏̍̓̓̾̚̚͘͝͠͠ͅ ̸̛̤́̓̀̄̇͑̾͗̋̓͛͒̄ ̴̧̞͔̭̠̩̮͉̫͕͈͈͎̻̰͍̳̲̞̳̘̾̄͛͊̒͑̈̍͛̑͋̔̏́̍̈̇̂̊̅̐̕͝ ̶̛̫̲͎̰͕̘̩͙͓͍̥͓̬̽̏͐͐̂̏̑̽́̂̽̂̉͑̑̾̂̄̽̂͋͠͝ ̷̖͎̩̙͚̖̟̬̬̖̱̣͕̽̿̓́͗̇͒̀͌͋̀͊̽͒͂͗̕̕͠ ̶̡̡̨̛̛͇͓̘͙̰̫͖͔͇̺̠̤͓̪͔͈͉̲̮̥̲͖̹̰͚̝͔͉͓̱͓͕̼͙̤̖̯̻͈̘̭͎̝́͒̅̏̊͂̅̈́́͗̋̕͝ͅͅͅ ̶̢̢̡̡̡̡̛̹̖̳̜̟̖̘͕͙̲̭͉͕̝̠̫̹̼̖̜͇̘̱͍̪̦͕̖̣̭̫̫̘̝̟̱͕̘͂̉͑͑̑̔͌̐̋̔̄̏̓͋̉͂̑̈́̐͊̾͂̉͘͘̕͘͘ͅ ̷̧̧̛̻̫̗͖̟̬͔̘̣͚͇̇͐̈́̃͗̑͛̇̀̋̏͌͋̀̅͋̍̓̏͋̋̉̕͘͘͜͝͝ ̶̧̧̻͖͙͚͉̰̜͓̮̲͚͕̩͚̣̱̙̘͖͓͍̺̮̙͛̐̓̕ͅ ̸̢̘̰͇̙̮̣͖̺̥̜̲̜͚̦̙̯͕͍͉̹̯̟̤͈͖̔̕͜ͅ ̶̧̡̛̛̝̤̳̲̼̣̬̭̲͓͖͇͔͙̽͊͆́͐͌͒̊́̀̂͊͊̈́̒̆͆̈́͌͌̕͠ ̴̠̫̞̗̤͈̂̄͛̈̒̍̈́̀̄̂̿̋̿̄̐͑̉̔̐̏͘͝͝͝  ̴̢̨̢̨̩͓͓̬̪̙͕͎̱̫̣̗͉̖̜̠͈͈̼̥̳̩̻͍̯̲̱̱̯͇̫͍̖͇͖̝͈̙̬̍̇͑̃̋̈́̐͊͌͑̚̚͘͠͝ͅ ̴̨̨̧̢̨̧̟̱̫͉̻̥̼̫̣͈͚̬̜̣̣̯̫̣̬̗͇̟̼̫͕̟̮͔̠̆̀͆̂̇̎͂̈̉̀̊͗͛́́̽͗͐͐̈̈́͐͂͂̇̈̆̊̃͂͊̋̒̎̎̈́̚̕͜͜͠ ̵̧̢̧̡̢̻̩̬̳͍̲̦̖͓͉̲̙͈͚̯͍̞̖̖̞̯̠̞̬̳̘̪͕̪̞̱̇̒̅̉́̊̃̉̀͜ͅ ̶̷̡̡̧͖͎̼̭̖͓̲̭̩͚̲̬̰̭̥̞̭̻̜̠̼̩̮̥̜̗̱͎̗̗̪̗̟̰̥͔̣̞̬͕͓̜͙̬̹̗̠͈̹̼̖͉̺̮͚͖̙̓̿̄̈́͊͋̈͛͒̊͂̀͛͛́̋͋̀́̃̏̽̀̓̆͐̍́̆͌̎͆̋͋̎͊͆̈́̓́̓̀̇͂͊̀̚̕̕͝͝͝͠͠ ̸̧̛̛͕̲͔̜͉͇̂͑̅͛̊͑̄̽̈́͆͊̎̅̇̐̅̕͝ ̶̨̟̝͉̭̳̼̹͇̯͈̱͖̪͍̙̂̏̅̓̉̄̑̈́̒͂̃̊̔̓̃̔̎̕͘̕͠͠͠͠͝͝͝ ̷̨̳̙̺̲̭̳̠̩̱̞̖̯̦̭̾͋̌̂̿̒̓̎͗ͅ ̷̧̢̡̹̘̘̝̝̦͚͉͚͕̖̳̞̫̝͓̩̣͓̮͓̙̘̌͒́̊͆͒̆̀͌͌͜ͅ ̷͚̮͇̘̱̯͍͙̙̯̝̤̲̠̯̫͓̱͍̱͖̃̾ ̵̞̫̠̹͙̪̩̠̞̟̫̀͆͊̃͋͐͋̀̽̈́̌̕̕ ̵̡̢̠̖̘̰̮̣̤̙̍̅̄͒̃͛͑͒͘̚͜ ̸̩̠̑̑͊͑̍̄̒̇́̉͗͂͒͋̽̌̕̚͘̚͝͠ ̴̡̧̢̞̼̘͙̣̤̲̫̠̺̦͍̼̼͍̺͈̝̥͕̖̹͛̇̍̈́̀̂̑̓̋̑͌̑̓̅́̊̍͗̄͆͑̔͘͜͝ ̵̢̨͙̙̺̇̀͛̆̈́̓̒̓̃̿̉́͆͂͝͝͠ͅ ̵̨̟͙̟͕̥̠̩̆̐͂̑̎̐͋̌̏͜͠ ̶̧̢̨̛̫͇̮͉͈̠̳̦̜̱̬̳̻̳̯͗̄̌̎̇̄̓̊̓̈́̉̾̾́̀̃̈́́̑̈͘̕͘ ̸̨̨̱̤̯̟̮̗̰͚̯̮̫͎͖̙̬͉̰̳͚̒̀̅̎͛̄̌̌͛̿̅̂̿́̕ ̷̡̧̨͔͕̺͖̙͇͎̻̮̺̱̥̗̹̰͚̘̞̂́̆̍̐̄̓͂͌̎̉͂̂̈́̀͛̓͘̚̚͝ ̸̡̛̹̳̥͉͓͓̼̝͍̱̳͖̼̻̦̝͙̜̯̩̰̑̋̈́̈͑̒̂ͅ ̷̛̦̫͚̯͚̬̭̪̞̘̺͈̼̠̟̝̰̲͖̓͂̆͐̎̑̀̾̀̾̋̾͂̈́̔͘̚͘͝͝͠ ̶̡̼̰̝̳̯͓̲̼̖̹͚̓  ̶̡̡̨̛̛͇͓̘͙̰̫͖͔͇̺̠̤͓̪͔͈͉̲̮̥̲͖̹̰͚̝͔͉͓̱͓͕̼͙̤̖̯̻͈̘̭͎̝́͒̅̏̊͂̅̈́́͗̋̕͝ͅͅͅ ̶̢̢̡̡̡̡̛̹̖̳̜̟̖̘͕͙̲̭͉͕̝̠̫̹̼̖̜͇̘̱͍̪̦͕̖̣̭̫̫̘̝̟̱͕̘͂̉͑͑̑̔͌̐̋̔̄̏̓͋̉͂̑̈́̐͊̾͂̉͘͘̕͘͘ͅ ̷̲̼̬̰̼̝͖͌̿ ̷̧̢͈̩̙̜̰͙̯̝͔̲̲̩̰̤͎͎̦͒̇̐̈͂̋͗̿̿͑̚͝͝ ̵̢̢̧̗͚̩̱̭̺͕̬̥̣̤̥̦͇̫͇̝̥̜͖̜̤́͂ ̵͙̝͎̀̍̊̀̎̈́̅̔̐̎̾͂͆̌̐̇̉͗̋͋͘͘͝͝͝͝͝ͅ ̴̧̖̩̬͓̙̮͇͈̺̹͖́̌̀͊͑̊̓̿͂̅͒̊͋́͆̓͜͝͝͝͝ ̸̧͚͓̹̰̭͔͔̝͓͔̜̩͓̥̒̏̿́̈́̂͌̿͂̈́̍͊̿̂̀̓̾̚̚̕͜͠͝  ̶̢̢̺̻̳̭̘̩̙̼͍͈̣̰̠̠̹̑̈̔̈́͊̈́̉̏̏͆̓̃̕͝ͅ ̴̨̧̡̛͎̮̘̹̬͚̫̱̥̲͔͎͇͈̠̲͇̳̮̙̦̠͙͈̭̠͕͔͈͖͇̔̐̑͒́̔̒̈́̊̍͐̅͗͐͊̽̾́̑̉͌̾̀̀͌̾̚͘͜͜͝ͅͅͅͅ ̸̡̝̣̤̟͚̦͚̠̺̯̙̀̔́̓͗̔̓̀̕̚ ̸̨̨̡̞̩̠͔̰̱̦̦̝͎̦̖͉̩̜̱̰͎̗͓͌͑́́͜͜ ̷̧̪͎̦̞͇͍̗̠̯̦̪̯̠̥̿̈́̈͑̊̚̕͜ͅ ̵͍̗̮̹̪̦̬͇̣̻̭̻͒̒͛̾̈́̆̓̚ ̴̺̤̾́́̓̓̐̂̄͂̇͛̕ ̴̡̪͉̦͈̯̞̼͙̞̫̬̼̩̥̆͌̍̓̀͐̀͊̐̑͆͊́͌́̋̈̍̑͐̐͜͝͝͝͝ ̷̛̜̉̇̑́̍̔̄̒̃̅̚̕̕͝͝ ̶̡̖̰̠͖̙̬͓͇̜͚̲̼̝̖̓͆̎͊̑̍͐̈́́͝ ̶̢̠̮̮̺̹͙̤̮͈͕͚̱̠͖͈̻́̓̉̓͐̉́͒́̓͌̌̌͒̑́̈́̕ ̵̨̘̲̩͙̫̗̖̟͎͍͉̤͕͙̞̮̼͍̜̪̯͎̉ ̷̢̢̢̡͉̮̪̠͍̗̞͙̰̞͍̼̠͖̭̳͈̜̥̍́̓̽͒̽͘͜͜͝ ̴̡̢̛̭̼͓͉̯̲̱̻̂̀̍ ̵̢̛̛̼͔͖̮̝̼̜̠̗̱̼͍̣̭͖̬̗̘͙̜̥̹̺̐͂̍̔̌́͒̐̌̈́͆̾̎̚͝͝͝ͅ ̷̡̯̦͚̝͇͍̳̝̗̟͚̠̯̹͚͙̺̦̭̼͕̉̆́̂̋͒̋͊͊̾͂̌̍̽͊ ̶̢̧̡̟͕̪̱̰͙̼̠̪̠̥͎̫̞͎͕̩͖̥͙̰̲̙̭̇̈́̓̒͒̄̉̊̒̿̾͑͒̂͘̕͜͝ ̷̶̢̧̨̢̲̠̘̙̩̫̣͓̼̺͚̲͔̜͎̜͙̜̗͕̻̖͂͋̑͛̓̏̄̇͒̑̎̊̃̾̋͗̂̈́͊̅̀̈́̾̊͆̍͗̿̽̕̕͠͠ ̶̧̖̤̟͚͍̼͕̟̦̗͇̠̜͍̿̍̆͂̅͆͘͠ͅ ̵̡̡̧̧̧̢͇̺͈̠̰̪̬̥͌̂͂̿̕̕͜

̴̛̹̥̲̤̈́̀̈́̎̚͜ͅ ̶̢̢̭̹̳̦̹̓͛́̏̀͆̅͒͒ ̵͔̙̫͚̹̯̰͔̹̠̄̋͜ ̷̝̫̱̮̳͉̟̞̣̀̂̈́̏̽́̌̀̈́͛ ̶͓̖̩̠͚͍̺̙̍̍̎͜ ̴̨̪͙̠͕̖̘̒̎̂̎̈́͌͑̏͋̀̊̚̚ ̶̺͙̱̘͎͛̀̅̓ͅ ̴̭̩͈̳̳͓̝͇̠̬̟͇̞̼̌̉̓͌̇̒̌ͅ ̵̧̛̦̻̬̯̖̹͙̤̅͆͒̐̑̐͘͜͠ ̶̢̢̢̘͙̥̗̖͎̲̝͓͚̰̽͆̌̍̽̋̎̆͑͜͜͝ ̷̨͉̾̓̀͛̅̈͑̔̓͒͌͝͝ ̴̨̨̞̹͔̭̟̀̑̽͊̃͑̄͋̓́̕ͅ ̸͓͇͈͉͔͚̎̓̽̋̂̔̏̒͛͊̊͆͘ ̷̖̞̦̻͉̺͇͍̠̺͎̔̄̃̋̾͐͋̀̈́͆̈́͊̚͝ ̵̢̡̛̩̳͉̱̙̘̘̱͓̮̠͚͙̌͂̑̿̽̋̌́͊̍͠͝ ̷̪͍̞̋̎̏̈́̾̐͘͝ͅ ̵̛̞̫͇̗̑͊́ ̸̡̱̠̙̱͉̳̤̭̞̉̅̄͋̅͒ ̷̭̣̙̼̗̻̠̄̉̋̅̊̑͂͋̑̂̐̓̽̎͝ ̷̡̢̖͕͎̬̣̩͕͈̭͙̭̆̇̿̾̿̆̄͒̚͜ ̶̙̫̜̜̬̼̰̻͌̈́͑̓͛͑̓͐̋̀̎͜ͅ ̴̢̢͙̳̬̦͚̼͙̳̭̟͉̬̬̃̌ ̴̡̹̙̰̓͐̀̀̐̽̎̿͜ ̴̞͖̫̘̪̈́ ̵͍̝̠͉̀̈́͐͘͜ ̴̧̧̪̦͚̜̤̼̬͕̞̻̤̞͓̯̉̄̒ ̴̨̡͙̠͎͌̃̋͘ ̸̨̧̠̰͍̪̫͇̣̥̭͈͓̩̲̅͠ ̷̛͙͉͕̺̝̘̗̮̝̺̳͚͌͗͋̈́͐̐̂͛͠ ̸̨̦̼̘͖͑̀̓ ̷̨̗͌̍̾̋̀͆͗̈́̃̉̽͒͘̚̚͠ ̸̢̨̲̪̠̪͓̻̿̅̈̈̇̚͠ ̴̛̤̦̣̤͎̲̖̩̓̒̑̽̒̚ ̷̰̖̫̱͎̓͋͛͑̀̇́̎̈́͌̂̎̒͝͠͝ ̸̡̧̯͛͌̐͑͌̓̐̇̀̋̆̃̂͘͝͝ ̵̡̡̺̩͓̺̫̫̺͎̫̝̝̓ ̶̨̦̠͙̦̞͉̬̹̯̰̭̏͐͠͝ ̷̢̢̙̺̹͓̪̄̉́͌̀͑͌̇̋̀́̈̈́̕ ̴̱͚̞̲̰̳͂͜ ̵̢̭̭̰̖̻̘̹̹̖̼̻͔͗̄̓͜ ̴͓͋̅͛̇͊͗̕ ̷̨̨͔̓̓ ̶̨͔̣̣̭̺̞͔̌̏̀̄ͅ ̸̩͖͇̼̺̟̇̄̋̈́͋͑̍̽̌̆͘͘ ̴̢̛̛̜͚͔͚̼̬͇͓̻̙̱̪̪͇̀̎̆͆̽̍̈́̈́̉͂̐̇͠ ̸̧̤̪̲̝͇̫͎̯͈͐͑ ̶̮̟̯̘̟̳͗͌͋ ̴̨̨̨̹̪͔͔̳͇̗͚̥̀͒̂́͗̇̏̚̕ ̸̢̬̈́͂͑̏͛́͘ ̷̡̢͚͖̺͚̱̥̪̦̝̰͈̀̂̏̌̎́͛̒̃̇̀̿͘͜͝͠ͅ ̵̨̰͙͈͎͚͛̐̀͆̌ ̴̢̛̳̝͙͖̭͙̟̝͚̹̥̲̭͑͌̎̌́̏̀̽͘͘͜͝ ̶̢͖̲͕͉̗̭̭̭͇͍̜̼̞̆̅̈́͗́͂͐̈́̌̌̃̉̌̃̑͝ ̷̢̨̧̙͎̫̜̤̤̯̟̪̮̮̀̽͜ͅ ̴̨͚̪̅̒̊̓̐̉ ̴̪͈̫̗̜͗̿̄̕͜͝ ̷̢̪̯͕́̐́͌̒̌̒̕̚ ̴̠͍̥̞̰̣͖͙͂̌̔͑ ̸̡̲͉̰̪̱̫̰͖̰͔͍̜̱̬̥̅͐̈́͛̌͐̈́̑̊͗̋͌̈́̀̀̅ ̵̨̛͔̳͙̄̌̊͊́̒̎̿̐͑̕ ̵̡̩̖̣̬͐̈́̊̈́̕͝ ̶̨̢̺͚̲͔̜͎̜͙̜̗͕̻̖̾̊͆̍͗̿̽̕ ̶̧̖̤̟͚͍̼͕̟̦̗͇̠̜͍̿̍̆͂̅͆͘͠ͅ ̵̡̡̧̧̧̢͇̺͈̠̰̪̬̥͌̂͂̿̕̕͜

 ̸̧̢̨͓̞̘̦͐̓̐̀̈̿̈́̒̋͂̔͒̽͗̂́͗̓̐̑̄̐́̚͠͝͝ ̶̛̛̯̠̬͕̂́̎͛̊͒̎͑̃͑̋̈́͑̎͋͌͒͠͠ ̴̨̬̞̭͔̼̫͍͙̖͈̜̥̲̥͎̦͕̟͔̭̍͆͌̈̒̎̒̌̒͗͂̔͛̈́͆͂̈̈́̕͜͠ ̷̯̼̻͔̼̣͔̟̄̏͝ ̵̡̢̡̣̞͈̠̯̙͕͍̘̪͎͇̗̦̖̦̪͔̜̝͕͇͔̬̍ ̴̧̛͖̫͎̺͙̪̮̜̫̣̦̥̗͔͉̭̙͕̙͈̲̫̙̈́̎̍̿͂̆̄̔̈́̋̀́́̌̐͊̐͛̈̄̓͒̚͜ͅ ̷̧̧̨̡̱͖̰̣̬̤̤͔̘͔̟̬̳̦̬͙͎͕͖̘̖̭̤͑͆͑͒͋̌̃̂͒͑̑͛̆̉̏̍̓̓̾̚̚͘͝͠͠ͅ ̸̛̤́̓̀̄̇͑̾͗̋̓͛͒̄ ̴̧̞͔̭̠̩̮͉̫͕͈͈͎̻̰͍̳̲̞̳̘̾̄͛͊̒͑̈̍͛̑͋̔̏́̍̈̇̂̊̅̐̕͝ ̶̛̫̲͎̰͕̘̩͙͓͍̥͓̬̽̏͐͐̂̏̑̽́̂̽̂̉͑̑̾̂̄̽̂͋͠͝ ̷̖͎̩̙͚̖̟̬̬̖̱̣͕̽̿̓́͗̇͒̀͌͋̀͊̽͒͂͗̕̕͠ ̶̡̡̨̛̛͇͓̘͙̰̫͖͔͇̺̠̤͓̪͔͈͉̲̮̥̲͖̹̰͚̝͔͉͓̱͓͕̼͙̤̖̯̻͈̘̭͎̝́͒̅̏̊͂̅̈́́͗̋̕͝ͅͅͅ ̶̢̢̡̡̡̡̛̹̖̳̜̟̖̘͕͙̲̭͉͕̝̠̫̹̼̖̜͇̘̱͍̪̦͕̖̣̭̫̫̘̝̟̱͕̘͂̉͑͑̑̔͌̐̋̔̄̏̓͋̉͂̑̈́̐͊̾͂̉͘͘̕͘͘ͅ ̷̧̧̛̻̫̗͖̟̬͔̘̣͚͇̇͐̈́̃͗̑͛̇̀̋̏͌͋̀̅͋̍̓̏͋̋̉̕͘͘͜͝͝ ̶̧̧̻͖͙͚͉̰̜͓̮̲͚͕̩͚̣̱̙̘͖͓͍̺̮̙͛̐̓̕ͅ ̸̢̘̰͇̙̮̣͖̺̥̜̲̜͚̦̙̯͕͍͉̹̯̟̤͈͖̔̕͜ͅ ̶̧̡̛̛̝̤̳̲̼̣̬̭̲͓͖͇͔͙̽͊͆́͐͌͒̊́̀̂͊͊̈́̒̆͆̈́͌͌̕͠ ̴̠̫̞̗̤͈̂̄͛̈̒̍̈́̀̄̂̿̋̿̄̐͑̉̔̐̏͘͝͝͝  ̴̢̨̢̨̩͓͓̬̪̙͕͎̱̫̣̗͉̖̜̠͈͈̼̥̳̩̻͍̯̲̱̱̯͇̫͍̖͇͖̝͈̙̬̍̇͑̃̋̈́̐͊͌͑̚̚͘͠͝ͅ ̴̨̨̧̢̨̧̟̱̫͉̻̥̼̫̣͈͚̬̜̣̣̯̫̣̬̗͇̟̼̫͕̟̮͔̠̆̀͆̂̇̎͂̈̉̀̊͗͛́́̽͗͐͐̈̈́͐͂͂̇̈̆̊̃͂͊̋̒̎̎̈́̚̕͜͜͠ ̵̧̢̧̡̢̻̩̬̳͍̲̦̖͓͉̲̙͈͚̯͍̞̖̖̞̯̠̞̬̳̘̪͕̪̞̱̇̒̅̉́̊̃̉̀͜ͅ ̶̷̡̡̧͖͎̼̭̖͓̲̭̩͚̲̬̰̭̥̞̭̻̜̠̼̩̮̥̜̗̱͎̗̗̪̗̟̰̥͔̣̞̬͕͓̜͙̬̹̗̠͈̹̼̖͉̺̮͚͖̙̓̿̄̈́͊͋̈͛͒̊͂̀͛͛́̋͋̀́̃̏̽̀̓̆͐̍́̆͌̎͆̋͋̎͊͆̈́̓́̓̀̇͂͊̀̚̕̕͝͝͝͠͠ ̸̧̛̛͕̲͔̜͉͇̂͑̅͛̊͑̄̽̈́͆͊̎̅̇̐̅̕͝ ̶̨̟̝͉̭̳̼̹͇̯͈̱͖̪͍̙̂̏̅̓̉̄̑̈́̒͂̃̊̔̓̃̔̎̕͘̕͠͠͠͠͝͝͝ ̷̨̳̙̺̲̭̳̠̩̱̞̖̯̦̭̾͋̌̂̿̒̓̎͗ͅ ̷̧̢̡̹̘̘̝̝̦͚͉͚͕̖̳̞̫̝͓̩̣͓̮͓̙̘̌͒́̊͆͒̆̀͌͌͜ͅ ̷͚̮͇̘̱̯͍͙̙̯̝̤̲̠̯̫͓̱͍̱͖̃̾ ̵̞̫̠̹͙̪̩̠̞̟̫̀͆͊̃͋͐͋̀̽̈́̌̕̕ ̵̡̢̠̖̘̰̮̣̤̙̍̅̄͒̃͛͑͒͘̚͜ ̸̩̠̑̑͊͑̍̄̒̇́̉͗͂͒͋̽̌̕̚͘̚͝͠ ̴̡̧̢̞̼̘͙̣̤̲̫̠̺̦͍̼̼͍̺͈̝̥͕̖̹͛̇̍̈́̀̂̑̓̋̑͌̑̓̅́̊̍͗̄͆͑̔͘͜͝ ̵̢̨͙̙̺̇̀͛̆̈́̓̒̓̃̿̉́͆͂͝͝͠ͅ ̵̨̟͙̟͕̥̠̩̆̐͂̑̎̐͋̌̏͜͠ ̶̧̢̨̛̫͇̮͉͈̠̳̦̜̱̬̳̻̳̯͗̄̌̎̇̄̓̊̓̈́̉̾̾́̀̃̈́́̑̈͘̕͘ ̸̨̨̱̤̯̟̮̗̰͚̯̮̫͎͖̙̬͉̰̳͚̒̀̅̎͛̄̌̌͛̿̅̂̿́̕ ̷̡̧̨͔͕̺͖̙͇͎̻̮̺̱̥̗̹̰͚̘̞̂́̆̍̐̄̓͂͌̎̉͂̂̈́̀͛̓͘̚̚͝ ̸̡̛̹̳̥͉͓͓̼̝͍̱̳͖̼̻̦̝͙̜̯̩̰̑̋̈́̈͑̒̂ͅ ̷̛̦̫͚̯͚̬̭̪̞̘̺͈̼̠̟̝̰̲͖̓͂̆͐̎̑̀̾̀̾̋̾͂̈́̔͘̚͘͝͝͠ ̶̡̼̰̝̳̯͓̲̼̖̹͚̓  ̶̡̡̨̛̛͇͓̘͙̰̫͖͔͇̺̠̤͓̪͔͈͉̲̮̥̲͖̹̰͚̝͔͉͓̱͓͕̼͙̤̖̯̻͈̘̭͎̝́͒̅̏̊͂̅̈́́͗̋̕͝ͅͅͅ ̶̢̢̡̡̡̡̛̹̖̳̜̟̖̘͕͙̲̭͉͕̝̠̫̹̼̖̜͇̘̱͍̪̦͕̖̣̭̫̫̘̝̟̱͕̘͂̉͑͑̑̔͌̐̋̔̄̏̓͋̉͂̑̈́̐͊̾͂̉͘͘̕͘͘ͅ ̷̲̼̬̰̼̝͖͌̿ ̷̧̢͈̩̙̜̰͙̯̝͔̲̲̩̰̤͎͎̦͒̇̐̈͂̋͗̿̿͑̚͝͝ ̵̢̢̧̗͚̩̱̭̺͕̬̥̣̤̥̦͇̫͇̝̥̜͖̜̤́͂ ̵͙̝͎̀̍̊̀̎̈́̅̔̐̎̾͂͆̌̐̇̉͗̋͋͘͘͝͝͝͝͝ͅ ̴̧̖̩̬͓̙̮͇͈̺̹͖́̌̀͊͑̊̓̿͂̅͒̊͋́͆̓͜͝͝͝͝ ̸̧͚͓̹̰̭͔͔̝͓͔̜̩͓̥̒̏̿́̈́̂͌̿͂̈́̍͊̿̂̀̓̾̚̚̕͜͠͝  ̶̢̢̺̻̳̭̘̩̙̼͍͈̣̰̠̠̹̑̈̔̈́͊̈́̉̏̏͆̓̃̕͝ͅ ̴̨̧̡̛͎̮̘̹̬͚̫̱̥̲͔͎͇͈̠̲͇̳̮̙̦̠͙͈̭̠͕͔͈͖͇̔̐̑͒́̔̒̈́̊̍͐̅͗͐͊̽̾́̑̉͌̾̀̀͌̾̚͘͜͜͝ͅͅͅͅ ̸̡̝̣̤̟͚̦͚̠̺̯̙̀̔́̓͗̔̓̀̕̚ ̸̨̨̡̞̩̠͔̰̱̦̦̝͎̦̖͉̩̜̱̰͎̗͓͌͑́́͜͜ ̷̧̪͎̦̞͇͍̗̠̯̦̪̯̠̥̿̈́̈͑̊̚̕͜ͅ ̵͍̗̮̹̪̦̬͇̣̻̭̻͒̒͛̾̈́̆̓̚ ̴̺̤̾́́̓̓̐̂̄͂̇͛̕ ̴̡̪͉̦͈̯̞̼͙̞̫̬̼̩̥̆͌̍̓̀͐̀͊̐̑͆͊́͌́̋̈̍̑͐̐͜͝͝͝͝ ̷̛̜̉̇̑́̍̔̄̒̃̅̚̕̕͝͝ ̶̡̖̰̠͖̙̬͓͇̜͚̲̼̝̖̓͆̎͊̑̍͐̈́́͝ ̶̢̠̮̮̺̹͙̤̮͈͕͚̱̠͖͈̻́̓̉̓͐̉́͒́̓͌̌̌͒̑́̈́̕ ̵̨̘̲̩͙̫̗̖̟͎͍͉̤͕͙̞̮̼͍̜̪̯͎̉ ̷̢̢̢̡͉̮̪̠͍̗̞͙̰̞͍̼̠͖̭̳͈̜̥̍́̓̽͒̽͘͜͜͝ ̴̡̢̛̭̼͓͉̯̲̱̻̂̀̍ ̵̢̛̛̼͔͖̮̝̼̜̠̗̱̼͍̣̭͖̬̗̘͙̜̥̹̺̐͂̍̔̌́͒̐̌̈́͆̾̎̚͝͝͝ͅ ̷̡̯̦͚̝͇͍̳̝̗̟͚̠̯̹͚͙̺̦̭̼͕̉̆́̂̋͒̋͊͊̾͂̌̍̽͊ ̶̢̧̡̟͕̪̱̰͙̼̠̪̠̥͎̫̞͎͕̩͖̥͙̰̲̙̭̇̈́̓̒͒̄̉̊̒̿̾͑͒̂͘̕͜͝ ̷̶̢̧̨̢̲̠̘̙̩̫̣͓̼̺͚̲͔̜͎̜͙̜̗͕̻̖͂͋̑͛̓̏̄̇͒̑̎̊̃̾̋͗̂̈́͊̅̀̈́̾̊͆̍͗̿̽̕̕͠͠ ̶̧̖̤̟͚͍̼͕̟̦̗͇̠̜͍̿̍̆͂̅͆͘͠ͅ ̵̡̡̧̧̧̢͇̺͈̠̰̪̬̥͌̂͂̿̕̕͜

 ̷̡̧̨͔͕̺͖̙͇͎̻̮̺̱̥̗̹̰͚̘̞̂́̆̍̐̄̓͂͌̎̉͂̂̈́̀͛̓͘̚̚͝ ̸̡̛̹̳̥͉͓͓̼̝͍̱̳͖̼̻̦̝͙̜̯̩̰̑̋̈́̈͑̒̂ͅ ̷̛̦̫͚̯͚̬̭̪̞̘̺͈̼̠̟̝̰̲͖̓͂̆͐̎̑̀̾̀̾̋̾͂̈́̔͘̚͘͝͝͠ ̶̡̼̰̝̳̯͓̲̼̖̹͚̓  ̶̡̡̨̛̛͇͓̘͙̰̫͖͔͇̺̠̤͓̪͔͈͉̲̮̥̲͖̹̰͚̝͔͉͓̱͓͕̼͙̤̖̯̻͈̘̭͎̝́͒̅̏̊͂̅̈́́͗̋̕͝ͅͅͅ ̶̢̢̡̡̡̡̛̹̖̳̜̟̖̘͕͙̲̭͉͕̝̠̫̹̼̖̜͇̘̱͍̪̦͕̖̣̭̫̫̘̝̟̱͕̘͂̉͑͑̑̔͌̐̋̔̄̏̓͋̉͂̑̈́̐͊̾͂̉͘͘̕͘͘ͅ ̷̲̼̬̰̼̝͖͌̿ ̷̧̢͈̩̙̜̰͙̯̝͔̲̲̩̰̤͎͎̦͒̇̐̈͂̋͗̿̿͑̚͝͝ ̵̢̢̧̗͚̩̱̭̺͕̬̥̣̤̥̦͇̫͇̝̥̜͖̜̤́͂ ̵͙̝͎̀̍̊̀̎̈́̅̔̐̎̾͂͆̌̐̇̉͗̋͋͘͘͝͝͝͝͝ͅ ̴̧̖̩̬͓̙̮͇͈̺̹͖́̌̀͊͑̊̓̿͂̅͒̊͋́͆̓͜͝͝͝͝ ̸̧͚͓̹̰̭͔͔̝͓͔̜̩͓̥̒̏̿́̈́̂͌̿͂̈́̍͊̿̂̀̓̾̚̚̕͜͠͝  ̶̢̢̺̻̳̭̘̩̙̼͍͈̣̰̠̠̹̑̈̔̈́͊̈́̉̏̏͆̓̃̕͝ͅ ̴̨̧̡̛͎̮̘̹̬͚̫̱̥̲͔͎͇͈̠̲͇̳̮̙̦̠͙͈̭̠͕͔͈͖͇̔̐̑͒́̔̒̈́̊̍͐̅͗͐͊̽̾́̑̉͌̾̀̀͌̾̚͘͜͜͝ͅͅͅͅ ̸̡̝̣̤̟͚̦͚̠̺̯̙̀̔́̓͗̔̓̀̕̚ ̸̨̨̡̞̩̠͔̰̱̦̦̝͎̦̖͉̩̜̱̰͎̗͓͌͑́́͜͜ ̷̧̪͎̦̞͇͍̗̠̯̦̪̯̠̥̿̈́̈͑̊̚̕͜ͅ ̵͍̗̮̹̪̦̬͇̣̻̭̻͒̒͛̾̈́̆̓̚ ̴̺̤̾́́̓̓̐̂̄͂̇͛̕  ̴̢̨̢̨̩͓͓̬̪̙͕͎̱̫̣̗͉̖̜̠͈͈̼̥̳̩̻͍̯̲̱̱̯͇̫͍̖͇͖̝͈̙̬̍̇͑̃̋̈́̐͊͌͑̚̚͘͠͝ͅ ̴̨̨̧̢̨̧̟̱̫͉̻̥̼̫̣͈͚̬̜̣̣̯̫̣̬̗͇̟̼̫͕̟̮͔̠̆̀͆̂̇̎͂̈̉̀̊͗͛́́̽͗͐͐̈̈́͐͂͂̇̈̆̊̃͂͊̋̒̎̎̈́̚̕͜͜͠ ̵̧̢̧̡̢̻̩̬̳͍̲̦̖͓͉̲̙͈͚̯͍̞̖̖̞̯̠̞̬̳̘̪͕̪̞̱̇̒̅̉́̊̃̉̀͜ͅ  ̸̧̢̨͓̞̘̦͐̓̐̀̈̿̈́̒̋͂̔͒̽͗̂́͗̓̐̑̄̐́̚͠͝͝ ̶̛̛̯̠̬͕̂́̎͛̊͒̎͑̃͑̋̈́͑̎͋͌͒͠͠ ̴̨̬̞̭͔̼̫͍͙̖͈̜̥̲̥͎̦͕̟͔̭̍͆͌̈̒̎̒̌̒͗͂̔͛̈́͆͂̈̈́̕͜͠ ̷̯̼̻͔̼̣͔̟̄̏͝ ̵̡̢̡̣̞͈̠̯̙͕͍̘̪͎͇̗̦̖̦̪͔̜̝͕͇͔̬̍ ̴̧̛͖̫͎̺͙̪̮̜̫̣̦̥̗͔͉̭̙͕̙͈̲̫̙̈́̎̍̿͂̆̄̔̈́̋̀́́̌̐͊̐͛̈̄̓͒̚͜ͅ ̷̧̧̨̡̱͖̰̣̬̤̤͔̘͔̟̬̳̦̬͙͎͕͖̘̖̭̤͑͆͑͒͋̌̃̂͒͑̑͛̆̉̏̍̓̓̾̚̚͘͝͠͠ͅ ̸̛̤́̓̀̄̇͑̾͗̋̓͛͒̄ ̴̧̞͔̭̠̩̮͉̫͕͈͈͎̻̰͍̳̲̞̳̘̾̄͛͊̒͑̈̍͛̑͋̔̏́̍̈̇̂̊̅̐̕͝ ̶̛̫̲͎̰͕̘̩͙͓͍̥͓̬̽̏͐͐̂̏̑̽́̂̽̂̉͑̑̾̂̄̽̂͋͠͝ ̷̖͎̩̙͚̖̟̬̬̖̱̣͕̽̿̓́͗̇͒̀͌͋̀͊̽͒͂͗̕̕͠ ̶̡̡̨̛̛͇͓̘͙̰̫͖͔͇̺̠̤͓̪͔͈͉̲̮̥̲͖̹̰͚̝͔͉͓̱͓͕̼͙̤̖̯̻͈̘̭͎̝́͒̅̏̊͂̅̈́́͗̋̕͝ͅͅͅ ̶̢̢̡̡̡̡̛̹̖̳̜̟̖̘͕͙̲̭͉͕̝̠̫̹̼̖̜͇̘̱͍̪̦͕̖̣̭̫̫̘̝̟̱͕̘͂̉͑͑̑̔͌̐̋̔̄̏̓͋̉͂̑̈́̐͊̾͂̉͘͘̕͘͘ͅ ̷̧̧̛̻̫̗͖̟̬͔̘̣͚͇̇͐̈́̃͗̑͛̇̀̋̏͌͋̀̅͋̍̓̏͋̋̉̕͘͘͜͝͝ ̶̧̧̻͖͙͚͉̰̜͓̮̲͚͕̩͚̣̱̙̘͖͓͍̺̮̙͛̐̓̕ͅ ̸̢̘̰͇̙̮̣͖̺̥̜̲̜͚̦̙̯͕͍͉̹̯̟̤͈͖̔̕͜ͅ ̶̧̡̛̛̝̤̳̲̼̣̬̭̲͓͖͇͔͙̽͊͆́͐͌͒̊́̀̂͊͊̈́̒̆͆̈́͌͌̕͠ ̴̠̫̞̗̤͈̂̄͛̈̒̍̈́̀̄̂̿̋̿̄̐͑̉̔̐̏͘͝͝͝ ̷̨̳̙̺̲̭̳̠̩̱̞̖̯̦̭̾͋̌̂̿̒̓̎͗ͅ ̷̧̢̡̹̘̘̝̝̦͚͉͚͕̖̳̞̫̝͓̩̣͓̮͓̙̘̌͒́̊͆͒̆̀͌͌͜ͅ ̷͚̮͇̘̱̯͍͙̙̯̝̤̲̠̯̫͓̱͍̱͖̃̾ ̵̞̫̠̹͙̪̩̠̞̟̫̀͆͊̃͋͐͋̀̽̈́̌̕̕ ̵̡̢̠̖̘̰̮̣̤̙̍̅̄͒̃͛͑͒͘̚͜ ̸̩̠̑̑͊͑̍̄̒̇́̉͗͂͒͋̽̌̕̚͘̚͝͠ ̴̡̧̢̞̼̘͙̣̤̲̫̠̺̦͍̼̼͍̺͈̝̥͕̖̹͛̇̍̈́̀̂̑̓̋̑͌̑̓̅́̊̍͗̄͆͑̔͘͜͝ ̵̢̨͙̙̺̇̀͛̆̈́̓̒̓̃̿̉́͆͂͝͝͠ͅ ̵̨̟͙̟͕̥̠̩̆̐͂̑̎̐͋̌̏͜͠ ̶̧̢̨̛̫͇̮͉͈̠̳̦̜̱̬̳̻̳̯͗̄̌̎̇̄̓̊̓̈́̉̾̾́̀̃̈́́̑̈͘̕͘ ̸̶̷̨̨̡̡̧̱̤̯̟̮̗̰͚̯̮̫͎͖̙̬͉̰̳͚͖͎̼̭̖͓̲̭̩͚̲̬̰̭̥̞̭̻̜̠̼̩̮̥̜̗̱͎̗̗̪̗̟̰̥͔̣̞̬͕͓̜͙̬̹̗̠͈̹̼̖͉̺̮͚͖̙̒̀̅̎͛̄̌̌͛̿̅̂̿́̓̿̄̈́͊͋̈͛͒̊͂̀͛͛́̋͋̀́̃̏̽̀̓̆͐̍́̆͌̎͆̋͋̎͊͆̈́̓́̓̀̇͂͊̀̕̚̕̕͝͝͝͠͠ ̸̧̛̛͕̲͔̜͉͇̂͑̅͛̊͑̄̽̈́͆͊̎̅̇̐̅̕͝ ̶̴̨̡̟̝͉̭̳̼̹͇̯͈̱͖̪͍̙̪͉̦͈̯̞̼͙̞̫̬̼̩̥̂̏̅̓̉̄̑̈́̒͂̃̊̔̓̃̔̎̆͌̍̓̀͐̀͊̐̑͆͊́͌́̋̈̍̑͐̐̕͘̕͜͠͠͠͠͝͝͝͝͝͝͝ ̷̛̜̉̇̑́̍̔̄̒̃̅̚̕̕͝͝ ̶̡̖̰̠͖̙̬͓͇̜͚̲̼̝̖̓͆̎͊̑̍͐̈́́͝ ̶̢̠̮̮̺̹͙̤̮͈͕͚̱̠͖͈̻́̓̉̓͐̉́͒́̓͌̌̌͒̑́̈́̕ ̵̨̘̲̩͙̫̗̖̟͎͍͉̤͕͙̞̮̼͍̜̪̯͎̉ ̷̢̢̢̡͉̮̪̠͍̗̞͙̰̞͍̼̠͖̭̳͈̜̥̍́̓̽͒̽͘͜͜͝ ̴̡̢̛̭̼͓͉̯̲̱̻̂̀̍ ̵̢̛̛̼͔͖̮̝̼̜̠̗̱̼͍̣̭͖̬̗̘͙̜̥̹̺̐͂̍̔̌́͒̐̌̈́͆̾̎̚͝͝͝ͅ ̷̡̯̦͚̝͇͍̳̝̗̟͚̠̯̹͚͙̺̦̭̼͕̉̆́̂̋͒̋͊͊̾͂̌̍̽͊ ̶̢̧̡̟͕̪̱̰͙̼̠̪̠̥͎̫̞͎͕̩͖̥͙̰̲̙̭̇̈́̓̒͒̄̉̊̒̿̾͑͒̂͘̕͜͝ ̷̶̢̧̨̢̲̠̘̙̩̫̣͓̼̺͚̲͔̜͎̜͙̜̗͕̻̖͂͋̑͛̓̏̄̇͒̑̎̊̃̾̋͗̂̈́͊̅̀̈́̾̊͆̍͗̿̽̕̕͠͠ ̶̧̖̤̟͚͍̼͕̟̦̗͇̠̜͍̿̍̆͂̅͆͘͠ͅ ̵̡̡̧̧̧̢͇̺͈̠̰̪̬̥͌̂͂̿̕̕͜

̴̛̹̥̲̤̈́̀̈́̎̚͜ͅ ̶̢̢̭̹̳̦̹̓͛́̏̀͆̅͒͒ ̵͔̙̫͚̹̯̰͔̹̠̄̋͜ ̷̝̫̱̮̳͉̟̞̣̀̂̈́̏̽́̌̀̈́͛ ̶͓̖̩̠͚͍̺̙̍̍̎͜ ̴̨̪͙̠͕̖̘̒̎̂̎̈́͌͑̏͋̀̊̚̚ ̶̺͙̱̘͎͛̀̅̓ͅ ̴̭̩͈̳̳͓̝͇̠̬̟͇̞̼̌̉̓͌̇̒̌ͅ ̵̧̛̦̻̬̯̖̹͙̤̅͆͒̐̑̐͘͜͠ ̶̢̢̢̘͙̥̗̖͎̲̝͓͚̰̽͆̌̍̽̋̎̆͑͜͜͝ ̷̨͉̾̓̀͛̅̈͑̔̓͒͌͝͝ ̴̨̨̞̹͔̭̟̀̑̽͊̃͑̄͋̓́̕ͅ  ̷̨̗͌̍̾̋̀͆͗̈́̃̉̽͒͘̚̚͠ ̸̢̨̲̪̠̪͓̻̿̅̈̈̇̚͠ ̴̛̤̦̣̤͎̲̖̩̓̒̑̽̒̚ ̷̰̖̫̱͎̓͋͛͑̀̇́̎̈́͌̂̎̒͝͠͝ ̸̡̧̯͛͌̐͑͌̓̐̇̀̋̆̃̂͘͝͝ ̵̡̡̺̩͓̺̫̫̺͎̫̝̝̓ ̶̨̦̠͙̦̞͉̬̹̯̰̭̏͐͠͝ ̷̢̢̙̺̹͓̪̄̉́͌̀͑͌̇̋̀́̈̈́̕ ̴̱͚̞̲̰̳͂͜ ̵̸̢̭̭̰̖̻̘̹̹̖̼̻͔͓͇͈͉͔͚͗̄̓̎̓̽̋̂̔̏̒͛͊̊͆͘͜ ̷̖̞̦̻͉̺͇͍̠̺͎̔̄̃̋̾͐͋̀̈́͆̈́͊̚͝ ̵̢̡̛̩̳͉̱̙̘̘̱͓̮̠͚͙̌͂̑̿̽̋̌́͊̍͠͝ ̷̪͍̞̋̎̏̈́̾̐͘͝ͅ ̵̛̞̫͇̗̑͊́ ̸̡̱̠̙̱͉̳̤̭̞̉̅̄͋̅͒ ̷̭̣̙̼̗̻̠̄̉̋̅̊̑͂͋̑̂̐̓̽̎͝ ̷̡̢̖͕͎̬̣̩͕͈̭͙̭̆̇̿̾̿̆̄͒̚͜ ̶̙̫̜̜̬̼̰̻͌̈́͑̓͛͑̓͐̋̀̎͜ͅ ̴̢̢͙̳̬̦͚̼͙̳̭̟͉̬̬̃̌ ̴̡̹̙̰̓͐̀̀̐̽̎̿͜ ̴̞͖̫̘̪̈́ ̵͍̝̠͉̀̈́͐͘͜ ̴̧̧̪̦͚̜̤̼̬͕̞̻̤̞͓̯̉̄̒ ̴̨̡͙̠͎͌̃̋͘ ̸̨̧̠̰͍̪̫͇̣̥̭͈͓̩̲̅͠ ̷̛͙͉͕̺̝̘̗̮̝̺̳͚͌͗͋̈́͐̐̂͛͠ ̸̨̦̼̘͖͑̀̓ ̴͓͋̅͛̇͊͗̕ ̷̨̨͔̓̓ ̶̨͔̣̣̭̺̞͔̌̏̀̄ͅ ̸̩͖͇̼̺̟̇̄̋̈́͋͑̍̽̌̆͘͘ ̴̢̛̛̜͚͔͚̼̬͇͓̻̙̱̪̪͇̀̎̆͆̽̍̈́̈́̉͂̐̇͠ ̸̧̤̪̲̝͇̫͎̯͈͐͑ ̶̮̟̯̘̟̳͗͌͋ ̴̨̨̨̹̪͔͔̳͇̗͚̥̀͒̂́͗̇̏̚̕ ̸̢̬̈́͂͑̏͛́͘ ̷̡̢͚͖̺͚̱̥̪̦̝̰͈̀̂̏̌̎́͛̒̃̇̀̿͘͜͝͠ͅ ̵̨̰͙͈͎͚͛̐̀͆̌ ̴̢̛̳̝͙͖̭͙̟̝͚̹̥̲̭͑͌̎̌́̏̀̽͘͘͜͝ ̶̢͖̲͕͉̗̭̭̭͇͍̜̼̞̆̅̈́͗́͂͐̈́̌̌̃̉̌̃̑͝ ̷̢̨̧̙͎̫̜̤̤̯̟̪̮̮̀̽͜ͅ ̴̨͚̪̅̒̊̓̐̉ ̴̪͈̫̗̜͗̿̄̕͜͝ ̷̢̪̯͕́̐́͌̒̌̒̕̚ ̴̠͍̥̞̰̣͖͙͂̌̔͑ ̸̡̲͉̰̪̱̫̰͖̰͔͍̜̱̬̥̅͐̈́͛̌͐̈́̑̊͗̋͌̈́̀̀̅ ̵̨̛͔̳͙̄̌̊͊́̒̎̿̐͑̕ ̵̡̩̖̣̬͐̈́̊̈́̕͝ ̶̨̢̺͚̲͔̜͎̜͙̜̗͕̻̖̾̊͆̍͗̿̽̕ ̶̧̖̤̟͚͍̼͕̟̦̗͇̠̜͍̿̍̆͂̅͆͘͠ͅ ̵̡̡̧̧̧̢͇̺͈̠̰̪̬̥͌̂͂̿̕̕͜

̴̛̹̥̲̤̈́̀̈́̎̚͜ͅ ̶̢̢̭̹̳̦̹̓͛́̏̀͆̅͒͒ ̵͔̙̫͚̹̯̰͔̹̠̄̋͜ ̷̝̫̱̮̳͉̟̞̣̀̂̈́̏̽́̌̀̈́͛ ̶͓̖̩̠͚͍̺̙̍̍̎͜ ̴̨̪͙̠͕̖̘̒̎̂̎̈́͌͑̏͋̀̊̚̚ ̶̺͙̱̘͎͛̀̅̓ͅ ̴̭̩͈̳̳͓̝͇̠̬̟͇̞̼̌̉̓͌̇̒̌ͅ ̵̧̛̦̻̬̯̖̹͙̤̅͆͒̐̑̐͘͜͠ ̶̢̢̢̘͙̥̗̖͎̲̝͓͚̰̽͆̌̍̽̋̎̆͑͜͜͝ ̷̨͉̾̓̀͛̅̈͑̔̓͒͌͝͝ ̴̨̨̞̹͔̭̟̀̑̽͊̃͑̄͋̓́̕ͅ ̸͓͇͈͉͔͚̎̓̽̋̂̔̏̒͛͊̊͆͘ ̷̖̞̦̻͉̺͇͍̠̺͎̔̄̃̋̾͐͋̀̈́͆̈́͊̚͝ ̵̢̡̛̩̳͉̱̙̘̘̱͓̮̠͚͙̌͂̑̿̽̋̌́͊̍͠͝ ̷̪͍̞̋̎̏̈́̾̐͘͝ͅ ̵̛̞̫͇̗̑͊́ ̸̡̱̠̙̱͉̳̤̭̞̉̅̄͋̅͒ ̷̭̣̙̼̗̻̠̄̉̋̅̊̑͂͋̑̂̐̓̽̎͝ ̷̡̢̖͕͎̬̣̩͕͈̭͙̭̆̇̿̾̿̆̄͒̚͜ ̶̙̫̜̜̬̼̰̻͌̈́͑̓͛͑̓͐̋̀̎͜ͅ ̴̢̢͙̳̬̦͚̼͙̳̭̟͉̬̬̃̌ ̴̡̹̙̰̓͐̀̀̐̽̎̿͜ ̴̞͖̫̘̪̈́ ̵͍̝̠͉̀̈́͐͘͜ ̴̧̧̪̦͚̜̤̼̬͕̞̻̤̞͓̯̉̄̒ ̴̨̡͙̠͎͌̃̋͘ ̸̨̧̠̰͍̪̫͇̣̥̭͈͓̩̲̅͠ ̷̛͙͉͕̺̝̘̗̮̝̺̳͚͌͗͋̈́͐̐̂͛͠ ̸̨̦̼̘͖͑̀̓ ̷̨̗͌̍̾̋̀͆͗̈́̃̉̽͒͘̚̚͠ ̸̢̨̲̪̠̪͓̻̿̅̈̈̇̚͠ ̴̛̤̦̣̤͎̲̖̩̓̒̑̽̒̚ ̷̰̖̫̱͎̓͋͛͑̀̇́̎̈́͌̂̎̒͝͠͝ ̸̡̧̯͛͌̐͑͌̓̐̇̀̋̆̃̂͘͝͝ ̵̡̡̺̩͓̺̫̫̺͎̫̝̝̓ ̶̨̦̠͙̦̞͉̬̹̯̰̭̏͐͠͝ ̷̢̢̙̺̹͓̪̄̉́͌̀͑͌̇̋̀́̈̈́̕ ̴̱͚̞̲̰̳͂͜ ̵̢̭̭̰̖̻̘̹̹̖̼̻͔͗̄̓͜ ̴͓͋̅͛̇͊͗̕ ̷̨̨͔̓̓ ̶̨͔̣̣̭̺̞͔̌̏̀̄ͅ ̸̩͖͇̼̺̟̇̄̋̈́͋͑̍̽̌̆͘͘ ̴̢̛̛̜͚͔͚̼̬͇͓̻̙̱̪̪͇̀̎̆͆̽̍̈́̈́̉͂̐̇͠ ̸̧̤̪̲̝͇̫͎̯͈͐͑ ̶̮̟̯̘̟̳͗͌͋ ̴̨̨̨̹̪͔͔̳͇̗͚̥̀͒̂́͗̇̏̚̕ ̸̢̬̈́͂͑̏͛́͘ ̷̡̢͚͖̺͚̱̥̪̦̝̰͈̀̂̏̌̎́͛̒̃̇̀̿͘͜͝͠ͅ ̵̨̰͙͈͎͚͛̐̀͆̌ ̴̢̛̳̝͙͖̭͙̟̝͚̹̥̲̭͑͌̎̌́̏̀̽͘͘͜͝ ̶̢͖̲͕͉̗̭̭̭͇͍̜̼̞̆̅̈́͗́͂͐̈́̌̌̃̉̌̃̑͝ ̷̢̨̧̙͎̫̜̤̤̯̟̪̮̮̀̽͜ͅ ̴̨͚̪̅̒̊̓̐̉ ̴̪͈̫̗̜͗̿̄̕͜͝ ̷̢̪̯͕́̐́͌̒̌̒̕̚ ̴̠͍̥̞̰̣͖͙͂̌̔͑ ̸̡̲͉̰̪̱̫̰͖̰͔͍̜̱̬̥̅͐̈́͛̌͐̈́̑̊͗̋͌̈́̀̀̅ ̵̨̛͔̳͙̄̌̊͊́̒̎̿̐͑̕ ̵̡̩̖̣̬͐̈́̊̈́̕͝ ̶̨̢̺͚̲͔̜͎̜͙̜̗͕̻̖̾̊͆̍͗̿̽̕ ̶̧̖̤̟͚͍̼͕̟̦̗͇̠̜͍̿̍̆͂̅͆͘͠ͅ ̵̡̡̧̧̧̢͇̺͈̠̰̪̬̥͌̂͂̿̕̕͜

 ̷̝̫̱̮̳͉̟̞̣̀̂̈́̏̽́̌̀̈́͛ ̶͓̖̩̠͚͍̺̙̍̍̎͜ ̴̨̪͙̠͕̖̘̒̎̂̎̈́͌͑̏͋̀̊̚̚ ̶̺͙̱̘͎͛̀̅̓ͅ ̴̭̩͈̳̳͓̝͇̠̬̟͇̞̼̌̉̓͌̇̒̌ͅ ̵̧̛̦̻̬̯̖̹͙̤̅͆͒̐̑̐͘͜͠ ̶̢̢̢̘͙̥̗̖͎̲̝͓͚̰̽͆̌̍̽̋̎̆͑͜͜͝ ̷̨͉̾̓̀͛̅̈͑̔̓͒͌͝͝ ̴̨̨̞̹͔̭̟̀̑̽͊̃͑̄͋̓́̕ͅ ̸͓͇͈͉͔͚̎̓̽̋̂̔̏̒͛͊̊͆͘ ̷̖̞̦̻͉̺͇͍̠̺͎̔̄̃̋̾͐͋̀̈́͆̈́͊̚͝ ̵̢̡̛̩̳͉̱̙̘̘̱͓̮̠͚͙̌͂̑̿̽̋̌́͊̍͠͝ ̷̪͍̞̋̎̏̈́̾̐͘͝ͅ ̵̛̞̫͇̗̑͊́ ̸̡̱̠̙̱͉̳̤̭̞̉̅̄͋̅͒ ̷̭̣̙̼̗̻̠̄̉̋̅̊̑͂͋̑̂̐̓̽̎͝ ̷̡̢̖͕͎̬̣̩͕͈̭͙̭̆̇̿̾̿̆̄͒̚͜ ̶̙̫̜̜̬̼̰̻͌̈́͑̓͛͑̓͐̋̀̎͜ͅ ̴̢̢͙̳̬̦͚̼͙̳̭̟͉̬̬̃̌ ̴̡̹̙̰̓͐̀̀̐̽̎̿͜ ̴̞͖̫̘̪̈́ ̵͍̝̠͉̀̈́͐͘͜ ̴̧̧̪̦͚̜̤̼̬͕̞̻̤̞͓̯̉̄̒ ̴̨̡͙̠͎͌̃̋͘ ̸̨̧̠̰͍̪̫͇̣̥̭͈͓̩̲̅͠ ̷̛͙͉͕̺̝̘̗̮̝̺̳͚͌͗͋̈́͐̐̂͛͠ ̸̨̦̼̘͖͑̀̓ ̷̨̗͌̍̾̋̀͆͗̈́̃̉̽͒͘̚̚͠ ̸̢̨̲̪̠̪͓̻̿̅̈̈̇̚͠ ̴̛̤̦̣̤͎̲̖̩̓̒̑̽̒̚ ̷̰̖̫̱͎̓͋͛͑̀̇́̎̈́͌̂̎̒͝͠͝ ̸̡̧̯͛͌̐͑͌̓̐̇̀̋̆̃̂͘͝͝ ̵̡̡̺̩͓̺̫̫̺͎̫̝̝̓ ̶̨̦̠͙̦̞͉̬̹̯̰̭̏͐͠͝ ̷̢̢̙̺̹͓̪̄̉́͌̀͑͌̇̋̀́̈̈́̕ ̴̱͚̞̲̰̳͂͜ ̵̢̭̭̰̖̻̘̹̹̖̼̻͔͗̄̓͜ ̴͓͋̅͛̇͊͗̕ ̷̨̨͔̓̓ ̶̨͔̣̣̭̺̞͔̌̏̀̄ͅ ̸̩͖͇̼̺̟̇̄̋̈́͋͑̍̽̌̆͘͘ ̴̢̛̛̜͚͔͚̼̬͇͓̻̙̱̪̪͇̀̎̆͆̽̍̈́̈́̉͂̐̇͠ ̸̧̤̪̲̝͇̫͎̯͈͐͑ ̶̮̟̯̘̟̳͗͌͋ ̴̨̨̨̹̪͔͔̳͇̗͚̥̀͒̂́͗̇̏̚̕ ̸̢̬̈́͂͑̏͛́͘ ̷̡̢͚͖̺͚̱̥̪̦̝̰͈̀̂̏̌̎́͛̒̃̇̀̿͘͜͝͠ͅ ̵̨̰͙͈͎͚͛̐̀͆̌ ̴̢̛̳̝͙͖̭͙̟̝͚̹̥̲̭͑͌̎̌́̏̀̽͘͘͜͝ ̶̢͖̲͕͉̗̭̭̭͇͍̜̼̞̆̅̈́͗́͂͐̈́̌̌̃̉̌̃̑͝ ̷̢̨̧̙͎̫̜̤̤̯̟̪̮̮̀̽͜ͅ ̴̨͚̪̅̒̊̓̐̉ ̴̪͈̫̗̜͗̿̄̕͜͝ ̷̢̪̯͕́̐́͌̒̌̒̕̚ ̴̠͍̥̞̰̣͖͙͂̌̔͑ ̸̡̲͉̰̪̱̫̰͖̰͔͍̜̱̬̥̅͐̈́͛̌͐̈́̑̊͗̋͌̈́̀̀̅ ̵̨̛͔̳͙̄̌̊͊́̒̎̿̐͑̕ ̵̡̩̖̣̬͐̈́̊̈́̕͝ ̶̨̢̺͚̲͔̜͎̜͙̜̗͕̻̖̾̊͆̍͗̿̽̕ ̶̧̖̤̟͚͍̼͕̟̦̗͇̠̜͍̿̍̆͂̅͆͘͠ͅ ̵̡̡̧̧̧̢͇̺͈̠̰̪̬̥͌̂͂̿̕̕͜

̸̧̢̨͓̞̘̦͐̓̐̀̈̿̈́̒̋͂̔͒̽͗̂́͗̓̐̑̄̐́̚͠͝͝ ̶̛̛̯̠̬͕̂́̎͛̊͒̎͑̃͑̋̈́͑̎͋͌͒͠͠ ̴̨̬̞̭͔̼̫͍͙̖͈̜̥̲̥͎̦͕̟͔̭̍͆͌̈̒̎̒̌̒͗͂̔͛̈́͆͂̈̈́̕͜͠ ̷̯̼̻͔̼̣͔̟̄̏͝ ̵̡̢̡̣̞͈̠̯̙͕͍̘̪͎͇̗̦̖̦̪͔̜̝͕͇͔̬̍ ̴̧̛͖̫͎̺͙̪̮̜̫̣̦̥̗͔͉̭̙͕̙͈̲̫̙̈́̎̍̿͂̆̄̔̈́̋̀́́̌̐͊̐͛̈̄̓͒̚͜ͅ ̷̧̧̨̡̱͖̰̣̬̤̤͔̘͔̟̬̳̦̬͙͎͕͖̘̖̭̤͑͆͑͒͋̌̃̂͒͑̑͛̆̉̏̍̓̓̾̚̚͘͝͠͠ͅ ̸̛̤́̓̀̄̇͑̾͗̋̓͛͒̄ ̴̧̞͔̭̠̩̮͉̫͕͈͈͎̻̰͍̳̲̞̳̘̾̄͛͊̒͑̈̍͛̑͋̔̏́̍̈̇̂̊̅̐̕͝ ̶̛̫̲͎̰͕̘̩͙͓͍̥͓̬̽̏͐͐̂̏̑̽́̂̽̂̉͑̑̾̂̄̽̂͋͠͝ ̷̖͎̩̙͚̖̟̬̬̖̱̣͕̽̿̓́͗̇͒̀͌͋̀͊̽͒͂͗̕̕͠ ̶̡̡̨̛̛͇͓̘͙̰̫͖͔͇̺̠̤͓̪͔͈͉̲̮̥̲͖̹̰͚̝͔͉͓̱͓͕̼͙̤̖̯̻͈̘̭͎̝́͒̅̏̊͂̅̈́́͗̋̕͝ͅͅͅ ̶̢̢̡̡̡̡̛̹̖̳̜̟̖̘͕͙̲̭͉͕̝̠̫̹̼̖̜͇̘̱͍̪̦͕̖̣̭̫̫̘̝̟̱͕̘͂̉͑͑̑̔͌̐̋̔̄̏̓͋̉͂̑̈́̐͊̾͂̉͘͘̕͘͘ͅ ̷̧̧̛̻̫̗͖̟̬͔̘̣͚͇̇͐̈́̃͗̑͛̇̀̋̏͌͋̀̅͋̍̓̏͋̋̉̕͘͘͜͝͝ ̶̧̧̻͖͙͚͉̰̜͓̮̲͚͕̩͚̣̱̙̘͖͓͍̺̮̙͛̐̓̕ͅ ̸̢̘̰͇̙̮̣͖̺̥̜̲̜͚̦̙̯͕͍͉̹̯̟̤͈͖̔̕͜ͅ ̶̧̡̛̛̝̤̳̲̼̣̬̭̲͓͖͇͔͙̽͊͆́͐͌͒̊́̀̂͊͊̈́̒̆͆̈́͌͌̕͠ ̴̠̫̞̗̤͈̂̄͛̈̒̍̈́̀̄̂̿̋̿̄̐͑̉̔̐̏͘͝͝͝  ̴̢̨̢̨̩͓͓̬̪̙͕͎̱̫̣̗͉̖̜̠͈͈̼̥̳̩̻͍̯̲̱̱̯͇̫͍̖͇͖̝͈̙̬̍̇͑̃̋̈́̐͊͌͑̚̚͘͠͝ͅ ̴̨̨̧̢̨̧̟̱̫͉̻̥̼̫̣͈͚̬̜̣̣̯̫̣̬̗͇̟̼̫͕̟̮͔̠̆̀͆̂̇̎͂̈̉̀̊͗͛́́̽͗͐͐̈̈́͐͂͂̇̈̆̊̃͂͊̋̒̎̎̈́̚̕͜͜͠ ̵̧̢̧̡̢̻̩̬̳͍̲̦̖͓͉̲̙͈͚̯͍̞̖̖̞̯̠̞̬̳̘̪͕̪̞̱̇̒̅̉́̊̃̉̀͜ͅ ̶̷̡̡̧͖͎̼̭̖͓̲̭̩͚̲̬̰̭̥̞̭̻̜̠̼̩̮̥̜̗̱͎̗̗̪̗̟̰̥͔̣̞̬͕͓̜͙̬̹̗̠͈̹̼̖͉̺̮͚͖̙̓̿̄̈́͊͋̈͛͒̊͂̀͛͛́̋͋̀́̃̏̽̀̓̆͐̍́̆͌̎͆̋͋̎͊͆̈́̓́̓̀̇͂͊̀̚̕̕͝͝͝͠͠ ̸̧̛̛͕̲͔̜͉͇̂͑̅͛̊͑̄̽̈́͆͊̎̅̇̐̅̕͝ ̶̨̟̝͉̭̳̼̹͇̯͈̱͖̪͍̙̂̏̅̓̉̄̑̈́̒͂̃̊̔̓̃̔̎̕͘̕͠͠͠͠͝͝͝ ̷̨̳̙̺̲̭̳̠̩̱̞̖̯̦̭̾͋̌̂̿̒̓̎͗ͅ ̷̧̢̡̹̘̘̝̝̦͚͉͚͕̖̳̞̫̝͓̩̣͓̮͓̙̘̌͒́̊͆͒̆̀͌͌͜ͅ ̷͚̮͇̘̱̯͍͙̙̯̝̤̲̠̯̫͓̱͍̱͖̃̾ ̵̞̫̠̹͙̪̩̠̞̟̫̀͆͊̃͋͐͋̀̽̈́̌̕̕ ̵̡̢̠̖̘̰̮̣̤̙̍̅̄͒̃͛͑͒͘̚͜ ̸̩̠̑̑͊͑̍̄̒̇́̉͗͂͒͋̽̌̕̚͘̚͝͠ ̴̡̧̢̞̼̘͙̣̤̲̫̠̺̦͍̼̼͍̺͈̝̥͕̖̹͛̇̍̈́̀̂̑̓̋̑͌̑̓̅́̊̍͗̄͆͑̔͘͜͝ ̵̢̨͙̙̺̇̀͛̆̈́̓̒̓̃̿̉́͆͂͝͝͠ͅ ̵̨̟͙̟͕̥̠̩̆̐͂̑̎̐͋̌̏͜͠ ̶̧̢̨̛̫͇̮͉͈̠̳̦̜̱̬̳̻̳̯͗̄̌̎̇̄̓̊̓̈́̉̾̾́̀̃̈́́̑̈͘̕͘ ̸̨̨̱̤̯̟̮̗̰͚̯̮̫͎͖̙̬͉̰̳͚̒̀̅̎͛̄̌̌͛̿̅̂̿́̕ ̷̡̧̨͔͕̺͖̙͇͎̻̮̺̱̥̗̹̰͚̘̞̂́̆̍̐̄̓͂͌̎̉͂̂̈́̀͛̓͘̚̚͝ ̸̡̛̹̳̥͉͓͓̼̝͍̱̳͖̼̻̦̝͙̜̯̩̰̑̋̈́̈͑̒̂ͅ ̷̛̦̫͚̯͚̬̭̪̞̘̺͈̼̠̟̝̰̲͖̓͂̆͐̎̑̀̾̀̾̋̾͂̈́̔͘̚͘͝͝͠ ̶̡̼̰̝̳̯͓̲̼̖̹͚̓  ̶̡̡̨̛̛͇͓̘͙̰̫͖͔͇̺̠̤͓̪͔͈͉̲̮̥̲͖̹̰͚̝͔͉͓̱͓͕̼͙̤̖̯̻͈̘̭͎̝́͒̅̏̊͂̅̈́́͗̋̕͝ͅͅͅ ̶̢̢̡̡̡̡̛̹̖̳̜̟̖̘͕͙̲̭͉͕̝̠̫̹̼̖̜͇̘̱͍̪̦͕̖̣̭̫̫̘̝̟̱͕̘͂̉͑͑̑̔͌̐̋̔̄̏̓͋̉͂̑̈́̐͊̾͂̉͘͘̕͘͘ͅ ̷̲̼̬̰̼̝͖͌̿ ̷̧̢͈̩̙̜̰͙̯̝͔̲̲̩̰̤͎͎̦͒̇̐̈͂̋͗̿̿͑̚͝͝ ̵̢̢̧̗͚̩̱̭̺͕̬̥̣̤̥̦͇̫͇̝̥̜͖̜̤́͂ ̵͙̝͎̀̍̊̀̎̈́̅̔̐̎̾͂͆̌̐̇̉͗̋͋͘͘͝͝͝͝͝ͅ ̴̧̖̩̬͓̙̮͇͈̺̹͖́̌̀͊͑̊̓̿͂̅͒̊͋́͆̓͜͝͝͝͝ ̸̧͚͓̹̰̭͔͔̝͓͔̜̩͓̥̒̏̿́̈́̂͌̿͂̈́̍͊̿̂̀̓̾̚̚̕͜͠͝  ̶̢̢̺̻̳̭̘̩̙̼͍͈̣̰̠̠̹̑̈̔̈́͊̈́̉̏̏͆̓̃̕͝ͅ ̴̨̧̡̛͎̮̘̹̬͚̫̱̥̲͔͎͇͈̠̲͇̳̮̙̦̠͙͈̭̠͕͔͈͖͇̔̐̑͒́̔̒̈́̊̍͐̅͗͐͊̽̾́̑̉͌̾̀̀͌̾̚͘͜͜͝ͅͅͅͅ ̸̡̝̣̤̟͚̦͚̠̺̯̙̀̔́̓͗̔̓̀̕̚ ̸̨̨̡̞̩̠͔̰̱̦̦̝͎̦̖͉̩̜̱̰͎̗͓͌͑́́͜͜ ̷̧̪͎̦̞͇͍̗̠̯̦̪̯̠̥̿̈́̈͑̊̚̕͜ͅ ̵͍̗̮̹̪̦̬͇̣̻̭̻͒̒͛̾̈́̆̓̚ ̴̺̤̾́́̓̓̐̂̄͂̇͛̕ ̴̡̪͉̦͈̯̞̼͙̞̫̬̼̩̥̆͌̍̓̀͐̀͊̐̑͆͊́͌́̋̈̍̑͐̐͜͝͝͝͝ ̷̛̜̉̇̑́̍̔̄̒̃̅̚̕̕͝͝ ̶̡̖̰̠͖̙̬͓͇̜͚̲̼̝̖̓͆̎͊̑̍͐̈́́͝ ̶̢̠̮̮̺̹͙̤̮͈͕͚̱̠͖͈̻́̓̉̓͐̉́͒́̓͌̌̌͒̑́̈́̕ ̵̨̘̲̩͙̫̗̖̟͎͍͉̤͕͙̞̮̼͍̜̪̯͎̉ ̷̢̢̢̡͉̮̪̠͍̗̞͙̰̞͍̼̠͖̭̳͈̜̥̍́̓̽͒̽͘͜͜͝ ̴̡̢̛̭̼͓͉̯̲̱̻̂̀̍ ̵̢̛̛̼͔͖̮̝̼̜̠̗̱̼͍̣̭͖̬̗̘͙̜̥̹̺̐͂̍̔̌́͒̐̌̈́͆̾̎̚͝͝͝ͅ ̷̡̯̦͚̝͇͍̳̝̗̟͚̠̯̹͚͙̺̦̭̼͕̉̆́̂̋͒̋͊͊̾͂̌̍̽͊ ̶̢̧̡̟͕̪̱̰͙̼̠̪̠̥͎̫̞͎͕̩͖̥͙̰̲̙̭̇̈́̓̒͒̄̉̊̒̿̾͑͒̂͘̕͜͝ ̷̶̢̧̨̢̲̠̘̙̩̫̣͓̼̺͚̲͔̜͎̜͙̜̗͕̻̖͂͋̑͛̓̏̄̇͒̑̎̊̃̾̋͗̂̈́͊̅̀̈́̾̊͆̍͗̿̽̕̕͠͠ ̶̧̖̤̟͚͍̼͕̟̦̗͇̠̜͍̿̍̆͂̅͆͘͠ͅ ̵̡̡̧̧̧̢͇̺͈̠̰̪̬̥͌̂͂̿̕̕͜

̸̧̢̨͓̞̘̦͐̓̐̀̈̿̈́̒̋͂̔͒̽͗̂́͗̓̐̑̄̐́̚͠͝͝ ̶̛̛̯̠̬͕̂́̎͛̊͒̎͑̃͑̋̈́͑̎͋͌͒͠͠ ̴̨̬̞̭͔̼̫͍͙̖͈̜̥̲̥͎̦͕̟͔̭̍͆͌̈̒̎̒̌̒͗͂̔͛̈́͆͂̈̈́̕͜͠ ̷̯̼̻͔̼̣͔̟̄̏͝ ̵̡̢̡̣̞͈̠̯̙͕͍̘̪͎͇̗̦̖̦̪͔̜̝͕͇͔̬̍ ̴̧̛͖̫͎̺͙̪̮̜̫̣̦̥̗͔͉̭̙͕̙͈̲̫̙̈́̎̍̿͂̆̄̔̈́̋̀́́̌̐͊̐͛̈̄̓͒̚͜ͅ ̷̧̧̨̡̱͖̰̣̬̤̤͔̘͔̟̬̳̦̬͙͎͕͖̘̖̭̤͑͆͑͒͋̌̃̂͒͑̑͛̆̉̏̍̓̓̾̚̚͘͝͠͠ͅ ̸̛̤́̓̀̄̇͑̾͗̋̓͛͒̄ ̴̧̞͔̭̠̩̮͉̫͕͈͈͎̻̰͍̳̲̞̳̘̾̄͛͊̒͑̈̍͛̑͋̔̏́̍̈̇̂̊̅̐̕͝ ̶̛̫̲͎̰͕̘̩͙͓͍̥͓̬̽̏͐͐̂̏̑̽́̂̽̂̉͑̑̾̂̄̽̂͋͠͝ ̷̖͎̩̙͚̖̟̬̬̖̱̣͕̽̿̓́͗̇͒̀͌͋̀͊̽͒͂͗̕̕͠ ̶̡̡̨̛̛͇͓̘͙̰̫͖͔͇̺̠̤͓̪͔͈͉̲̮̥̲͖̹̰͚̝͔͉͓̱͓͕̼͙̤̖̯̻͈̘̭͎̝́͒̅̏̊͂̅̈́́͗̋̕͝ͅͅͅ ̶̢̢̡̡̡̡̛̹̖̳̜̟̖̘͕͙̲̭͉͕̝̠̫̹̼̖̜͇̘̱͍̪̦͕̖̣̭̫̫̘̝̟̱͕̘͂̉͑͑̑̔͌̐̋̔̄̏̓͋̉͂̑̈́̐͊̾͂̉͘͘̕͘͘ͅ ̷̧̧̛̻̫̗͖̟̬͔̘̣͚͇̇͐̈́̃͗̑͛̇̀̋̏͌͋̀̅͋̍̓̏͋̋̉̕͘͘͜͝͝ ̶̧̧̻͖͙͚͉̰̜͓̮̲͚͕̩͚̣̱̙̘͖͓͍̺̮̙͛̐̓̕ͅ ̸̢̘̰͇̙̮̣͖̺̥̜̲̜͚̦̙̯͕͍͉̹̯̟̤͈͖̔̕͜ͅ ̶̧̡̛̛̝̤̳̲̼̣̬̭̲͓͖͇͔͙̽͊͆́͐͌͒̊́̀̂͊͊̈́̒̆͆̈́͌͌̕͠ ̴̠̫̞̗̤͈̂̄͛̈̒̍̈́̀̄̂̿̋̿̄̐͑̉̔̐̏͘͝͝͝  ̴̢̨̢̨̩͓͓̬̪̙͕͎̱̫̣̗͉̖̜̠͈͈̼̥̳̩̻͍̯̲̱̱̯͇̫͍̖͇͖̝͈̙̬̍̇͑̃̋̈́̐͊͌͑̚̚͘͠͝ͅ ̴̨̨̧̢̨̧̟̱̫͉̻̥̼̫̣͈͚̬̜̣̣̯̫̣̬̗͇̟̼̫͕̟̮͔̠̆̀͆̂̇̎͂̈̉̀̊͗͛́́̽͗͐͐̈̈́͐͂͂̇̈̆̊̃͂͊̋̒̎̎̈́̚̕͜͜͠ ̵̧̢̧̡̢̻̩̬̳͍̲̦̖͓͉̲̙͈͚̯͍̞̖̖̞̯̠̞̬̳̘̪͕̪̞̱̇̒̅̉́̊̃̉̀͜ͅ ̶̷̡̡̧͖͎̼̭̖͓̲̭̩͚̲̬̰̭̥̞̭̻̜̠̼̩̮̥̜̗̱͎̗̗̪̗̟̰̥͔̣̞̬͕͓̜͙̬̹̗̠͈̹̼̖͉̺̮͚͖̙̓̿̄̈́͊͋̈͛͒̊͂̀͛͛́̋͋̀́̃̏̽̀̓̆͐̍́̆͌̎͆̋͋̎͊͆̈́̓́̓̀̇͂͊̀̚̕̕͝͝͝͠͠ ̸̧̛̛͕̲͔̜͉͇̂͑̅͛̊͑̄̽̈́͆͊̎̅̇̐̅̕͝ ̶̨̟̝͉̭̳̼̹͇̯͈̱͖̪͍̙̂̏̅̓̉̄̑̈́̒͂̃̊̔̓̃̔̎̕͘̕͠͠͠͠͝͝͝ ̷̨̳̙̺̲̭̳̠̩̱̞̖̯̦̭̾͋̌̂̿̒̓̎͗ͅ ̷̧̢̡̹̘̘̝̝̦͚͉͚͕̖̳̞̫̝͓̩̣͓̮͓̙̘̌͒́̊͆͒̆̀͌͌͜ͅ ̷͚̮͇̘̱̯͍͙̙̯̝̤̲̠̯̫͓̱͍̱͖̃̾ ̵̞̫̠̹͙̪̩̠̞̟̫̀͆͊̃͋͐͋̀̽̈́̌̕̕ ̵̡̢̠̖̘̰̮̣̤̙̍̅̄͒̃͛͑͒͘̚͜ ̸̩̠̑̑͊͑̍̄̒̇́̉͗͂͒͋̽̌̕̚͘̚͝͠ ̴̡̧̢̞̼̘͙̣̤̲̫̠̺̦͍̼̼͍̺͈̝̥͕̖̹͛̇̍̈́̀̂̑̓̋̑͌̑̓̅́̊̍͗̄͆͑̔͘͜͝ ̵̢̨͙̙̺̇̀͛̆̈́̓̒̓̃̿̉́͆͂͝͝͠ͅ ̵̨̟͙̟͕̥̠̩̆̐͂̑̎̐͋̌̏͜͠ ̶̧̢̨̛̫͇̮͉͈̠̳̦̜̱̬̳̻̳̯͗̄̌̎̇̄̓̊̓̈́̉̾̾́̀̃̈́́̑̈͘̕͘ ̸̨̨̱̤̯̟̮̗̰͚̯̮̫͎͖̙̬͉̰̳͚̒̀̅̎͛̄̌̌͛̿̅̂̿́̕ ̷̡̧̨͔͕̺͖̙͇͎̻̮̺̱̥̗̹̰͚̘̞̂́̆̍̐̄̓͂͌̎̉͂̂̈́̀͛̓͘̚̚͝ ̸̡̛̹̳̥͉͓͓̼̝͍̱̳͖̼̻̦̝͙̜̯̩̰̑̋̈́̈͑̒̂ͅ ̷̛̦̫͚̯͚̬̭̪̞̘̺͈̼̠̟̝̰̲͖̓͂̆͐̎̑̀̾̀̾̋̾͂̈́̔͘̚͘͝͝͠ ̶̡̼̰̝̳̯͓̲̼̖̹͚̓  ̶̡̡̨̛̛͇͓̘͙̰̫͖͔͇̺̠̤͓̪͔͈͉̲̮̥̲͖̹̰͚̝͔͉͓̱͓͕̼͙̤̖̯̻͈̘̭͎̝́͒̅̏̊͂̅̈́́͗̋̕͝ͅͅͅ ̶̢̢̡̡̡̡̛̹̖̳̜̟̖̘͕͙̲̭͉͕̝̠̫̹̼̖̜͇̘̱͍̪̦͕̖̣̭̫̫̘̝̟̱͕̘͂̉͑͑̑̔͌̐̋̔̄̏̓͋̉͂̑̈́̐͊̾͂̉͘͘̕͘͘ͅ ̷̲̼̬̰̼̝͖͌̿ ̷̧̢͈̩̙̜̰͙̯̝͔̲̲̩̰̤͎͎̦͒̇̐̈͂̋͗̿̿͑̚͝͝ ̵̢̢̧̗͚̩̱̭̺͕̬̥̣̤̥̦͇̫͇̝̥̜͖̜̤́͂ ̵͙̝͎̀̍̊̀̎̈́̅̔̐̎̾͂͆̌̐̇̉͗̋͋͘͘͝͝͝͝͝ͅ ̴̧̖̩̬͓̙̮͇͈̺̹͖́̌̀͊͑̊̓̿͂̅͒̊͋́͆̓͜͝͝͝͝ ̸̧͚͓̹̰̭͔͔̝͓͔̜̩͓̥̒̏̿́̈́̂͌̿͂̈́̍͊̿̂̀̓̾̚̚̕͜͠͝  ̶̢̢̺̻̳̭̘̩̙̼͍͈̣̰̠̠̹̑̈̔̈́͊̈́̉̏̏͆̓̃̕͝ͅ ̴̨̧̡̛͎̮̘̹̬͚̫̱̥̲͔͎͇͈̠̲͇̳̮̙̦̠͙͈̭̠͕͔͈͖͇̔̐̑͒́̔̒̈́̊̍͐̅͗͐͊̽̾́̑̉͌̾̀̀͌̾̚͘͜͜͝ͅͅͅͅ ̸̡̝̣̤̟͚̦͚̠̺̯̙̀̔́̓͗̔̓̀̕̚ ̸̨̨̡̞̩̠͔̰̱̦̦̝͎̦̖͉̩̜̱̰͎̗͓͌͑́́͜͜ ̷̧̪͎̦̞͇͍̗̠̯̦̪̯̠̥̿̈́̈͑̊̚̕͜ͅ ̵͍̗̮̹̪̦̬͇̣̻̭̻͒̒͛̾̈́̆̓̚ ̴̺̤̾́́̓̓̐̂̄͂̇͛̕ ̴̡̪͉̦͈̯̞̼͙̞̫̬̼̩̥̆͌̍̓̀͐̀͊̐̑͆͊́͌́̋̈̍̑͐̐͜͝͝͝͝ ̷̛̜̉̇̑́̍̔̄̒̃̅̚̕̕͝͝ ̶̡̖̰̠͖̙̬͓͇̜͚̲̼̝̖̓͆̎͊̑̍͐̈́́͝ ̶̢̠̮̮̺̹͙̤̮͈͕͚̱̠͖͈̻́̓̉̓͐̉́͒́̓͌̌̌͒̑́̈́̕ ̵̨̘̲̩͙̫̗̖̟͎͍͉̤͕͙̞̮̼͍̜̪̯͎̉ ̷̢̢̢̡͉̮̪̠͍̗̞͙̰̞͍̼̠͖̭̳͈̜̥̍́̓̽͒̽͘͜͜͝ ̴̡̢̛̭̼͓͉̯̲̱̻̂̀̍ ̵̢̛̛̼͔͖̮̝̼̜̠̗̱̼͍̣̭͖̬̗̘͙̜̥̹̺̐͂̍̔̌́͒̐̌̈́͆̾̎̚͝͝͝ͅ ̷̡̯̦͚̝͇͍̳̝̗̟͚̠̯̹͚͙̺̦̭̼͕̉̆́̂̋͒̋͊͊̾͂̌̍̽͊ ̶̢̧̡̟͕̪̱̰͙̼̠̪̠̥͎̫̞͎͕̩͖̥͙̰̲̙̭̇̈́̓̒͒̄̉̊̒̿̾͑͒̂͘̕͜͝ ̷̶̢̧̨̢̲̠̘̙̩̫̣͓̼̺͚̲͔̜͎̜͙̜̗͕̻̖͂͋̑͛̓̏̄̇͒̑̎̊̃̾̋͗̂̈́͊̅̀̈́̾̊͆̍͗̿̽̕̕͠͠ ̶̧̖̤̟͚͍̼͕̟̦̗͇̠̜͍̿̍̆͂̅͆͘͠ͅ ̵̡̡͇̺͈̠͌̂͂̿̕̕

̴̛̹̥̲̤̈́̀̈́̎̚͜ͅ ̶̢̢̭̹̳̦̹̓͛́̏̀͆̅͒͒ ̵͔̙̫͚̹̯̰͔̹̠̄̋͜ ̷̝̫̱̮̳͉̟̞̣̀̂̈́̏̽́̌̀̈́͛ ̶͓̖̩̠͚͍̺̙̍̍̎͜ ̴̨̪͙̠͕̖̘̒̎̂̎̈́͌͑̏͋̀̊̚̚ ̶̺͙̱̘͎͛̀̅̓ͅ ̴̭̩͈̳̳͓̝͇̠̬̟͇̞̼̌̉̓͌̇̒̌ͅ ̵̧̛̦̻̬̯̖̹͙̤̅͆͒̐̑̐͘͜͠ ̶̢̢̢̘͙̥̗̖͎̲̝͓͚̰̽͆̌̍̽̋̎̆͑͜͜͝ ̷̨͉̾̓̀͛̅̈͑̔̓͒͌͝͝ ̴̨̨̞̹͔̭̟̀̑̽͊̃͑̄͋̓́̕ͅ ̸͓͇͈͉͔͚̎̓̽̋̂̔̏̒͛͊̊͆͘ ̷̖̞̦̻͉̺͇͍̠̺͎̔̄̃̋̾͐͋̀̈́͆̈́͊̚͝ ̵̢̡̛̩̳͉̱̙̘̘̱͓̮̠͚͙̌͂̑̿̽̋̌́͊̍͠͝ ̷̪͍̞̋̎̏̈́̾̐͘͝ͅ ̵̛̞̫͇̗̑͊́ ̸̡̱̠̙̱͉̳̤̭̞̉̅̄͋̅͒ ̷̭̣̙̼̗̻̠̄̉̋̅̊̑͂͋̑̂̐̓̽̎͝ ̷̡̢̖͕͎̬̣̩͕͈̭͙̭̆̇̿̾̿̆̄͒̚͜ ̶̙̫̜̜̬̼̰̻͌̈́͑̓͛͑̓͐̋̀̎͜ͅ ̴̢̢͙̳̬̦͚̼͙̳̭̟͉̬̬̃̌ ̴̡̹̙̰̓͐̀̀̐̽̎̿͜ ̴̞͖̫̘̪̈́ ̵͍̝̠͉̀̈́͐͘͜ ̴̧̧̪̦͚̜̤̼̬͕̞̻̤̞͓̯̉̄̒ ̴̨̡͙̠͎͌̃̋͘ ̸̨̧̠̰͍̪̫͇̣̥̭͈͓̩̲̅͠ ̷̛͙͉͕̺̝̘̗̮̝̺̳͚͌͗͋̈́͐̐̂͛͠ ̸̨̦̼̘͖͑̀̓ ̷̨̗͌̍̾̋̀͆͗̈́̃̉̽͒͘̚̚͠ ̸̢̨̲̪̠̪͓̻̿̅̈̈̇̚͠ ̴̛̤̦̣̤͎̲̖̩̓̒̑̽̒̚ ̷̰̖̫̱͎̓͋͛͑̀̇́̎̈́͌̂̎̒͝͠͝ ̸̡̧̯͛͌̐͑͌̓̐̇̀̋̆̃̂͘͝͝ ̵̡̡̺̩͓̺̫̫̺͎̫̝̝̓ ̶̨̦̠͙̦̞͉̬̹̯̰̭̏͐͠͝ ̷̢̢̙̺̹͓̪̄̉́͌̀͑͌̇̋̀́̈̈́̕ ̴̱͚̞̲̰̳͂͜ ̵̢̭̭̰̖̻̘̹̹̖̼̻͔͗̄̓͜ ̴͓͋̅͛̇͊͗̕ ̷̨̨͔̓̓ ̶̨͔̣̣̭̺̞͔̌̏̀̄ͅ ̸̩͖͇̼̺̟̇̄̋̈́͋͑̍̽̌̆͘͘ ̴̢̛̛̜͚͔͚̼̬͇͓̻̙̱̪̪͇̀̎̆͆̽̍̈́̈́̉͂̐̇͠ ̸̧̤̪̲̝͇̫͎̯͈͐͑ ̶̮̟̯̘̟̳͗͌͋ ̴̨̨̨̹̪͔͔̳͇̗͚̥̀͒̂́͗̇̏̚̕ ̸̢̬̈́͂͑̏͛́͘ ̷̡̢͚͖̺͚̱̥̪̦̝̰͈̀̂̏̌̎́͛̒̃̇̀̿͘͜͝͠ͅ ̵̨̰͙͈͎͚͛̐̀͆̌ ̴̢̛̳̝͙͖̭͙̟̝͚̹̥̲̭͑͌̎̌́̏̀̽͘͘͜͝ ̶̢͖̲͕͉̗̭̭̭͇͍̜̼̞̆̅̈́͗́͂͐̈́̌̌̃̉̌̃̑͝ ̷̢̨̧̙͎̫̜̤̤̯̟̪̮̮̀̽͜ͅ ̴̨͚̪̅̒̊̓̐̉ ̴̪͈̫̗̜͗̿̄̕͜͝ ̷̢̪̯͕́̐́͌̒̌̒̕̚ ̴̠͍̥̞̰̣͖͙͂̌̔͑ ̸̡̲͉̰̪̱̫̰͖̰͔͍̜̱̬̥̅͐̈́͛̌͐̈́̑̊͗̋͌̈́̀̀̅ ̵̨̛͔̳͙̄̌̊͊́̒̎̿̐͑̕ ̵̡̩̖̣̬͐̈́̊̈́̕͝ ̶̨̢̺͚̲͔̜͎̜͙̜̗͕̻̖̾̊͆̍͗̿̽̕ ̶̧̖̤̟͚͍̼͕̟̦̗͇̠̜͍̿̍̆͂̅͆͘͠ͅ ̵̡̡̧̧̧̢͇̺͈̠̰̪̬̥͌̂͂̿̕̕͜

  ̶̡̡̨̛̛͇͓̘͙̰̫͖͔͇̺̠̤͓̪͔͈͉̲̮̥̲͖̹̰͚̝͔͉͓̱͓͕̼͙̤̖̯̻͈̘̭͎̝́͒̅̏̊͂̅̈́́͗̋̕͝ͅͅͅ ̶̢̢̡̡̡̡̛̹̖̳̜̟̖̘͕͙̲̭͉͕̝̠̫̹̼̖̜͇̘̱͍̪̦͕̖̣̭̫̫̘̝̟̱͕̘͂̉͑͑̑̔͌̐̋̔̄̏̓͋̉͂̑̈́̐͊̾͂̉͘͘̕͘͘ͅ ̷̲̼̬̰̼̝͖͌̿ ̷̧̢͈̩̙̜̰͙̯̝͔̲̲̩̰̤͎͎̦͒̇̐̈͂̋͗̿̿͑̚͝͝ ̵̢̢̧̗͚̩̱̭̺͕̬̥̣̤̥̦͇̫͇̝̥̜͖̜̤́͂ ̵͙̝͎̀̍̊̀̎̈́̅̔̐̎̾͂͆̌̐̇̉͗̋͋͘͘͝͝͝͝͝ͅ ̴̧̖̩̬͓̙̮͇͈̺̹͖́̌̀͊͑̊̓̿͂̅͒̊͋́͆̓͜͝͝͝͝ ̸̧͚͓̹̰̭͔͔̝͓͔̜̩͓̥̒̏̿́̈́̂͌̿͂̈́̍͊̿̂̀̓̾̚̚̕͜͠͝  ̶̢̢̺̻̳̭̘̩̙̼͍͈̣̰̠̠̹̑̈̔̈́͊̈́̉̏̏͆̓̃̕͝ͅ ̴̨̧̡̛͎̮̘̹̬͚̫̱̥̲͔͎͇͈̠̲͇̳̮̙̦̠͙͈̭̠͕͔͈͖͇̔̐̑͒́̔̒̈́̊̍͐̅͗͐͊̽̾́̑̉͌̾̀̀͌̾̚͘͜͜͝ͅͅͅͅ ̸̡̝̣̤̟͚̦͚̠̺̯̙̀̔́̓͗̔̓̀̕̚ ̸̨̨̡̞̩̠͔̰̱̦̦̝͎̦̖͉̩̜̱̰͎̗͓͌͑́́͜͜ ̷̧̪͎̦̞͇͍̗̠̯̦̪̯̠̥̿̈́̈͑̊̚̕͜ͅ ̵͍̗̮̹̪̦̬͇̣̻̭̻͒̒͛̾̈́̆̓̚ ̴̺̤̾́́̓̓̐̂̄͂̇͛̕ ̴̡̪͉̦͈̯̞̼͙̞̫̬̼̩̥̆͌̍̓̀͐̀͊̐̑͆͊́͌́̋̈̍̑͐̐͜͝͝͝͝ ̷̛̜̉̇̑́̍̔̄̒̃̅̚̕̕͝͝ ̶̡̖̰̠͖̙̬͓͇̜͚̲̼̝̖̓͆̎͊̑̍͐̈́́͝ ̶̢̠̮̮̺̹͙̤̮͈͕͚̱̠͖͈̻́̓̉̓͐̉́͒́̓͌̌̌͒̑́̈́̕ ̵̨̘̲̩͙̫̗̖̟͎͍͉̤͕͙̞̮̼͍̜̪̯͎̉ ̷̢̢̢̡͉̮̪̠͍̗̞͙̰̞͍̼̠͖̭̳͈̜̥̍́̓̽͒̽͘͜͜͝ ̴̡̢̛̭̼͓͉̯̲̱̻̂̀̍ ̵̢̛̛̼͔͖̮̝̼̜̠̗̱̼͍̣̭͖̬̗̘͙̜̥̹̺̐͂̍̔̌́͒̐̌̈́͆̾̎̚͝͝͝ͅ ̷̡̯̦͚̝͇͍̳̝̗̟͚̠̯̹͚͙̺̦̭̼͕̉̆́̂̋͒̋͊͊̾͂̌̍̽͊ ̶̢̧̡̟͕̪̱̰͙̼̠̪̠̥͎̫̞͎͕̩͖̥͙̰̲̙̭̇̈́̓̒͒̄̉̊̒̿̾͑͒̂͘̕͜͝ ̷̶̢̧̨̢̲̠̘̙̩̫̣͓̼̺͚̲͔̜͎̜͙̜̗͕̻̖͂͋̑͛̓̏̄̇͒̑̎̊̃̾̋͗̂̈́͊̅̀̈́̾̊͆̍͗̿̽̕̕͠͠ ̶̧̖̤̟͚͍̼͕̟̦̗͇̠̜͍̿̍̆͂̅͆͘͠ͅ ̵̡̡͇̺͈̠͌̂͂̿̕̕ ̶̛̛̯̠̬͕̂́̎͛̊͒̎͑̃͑̋̈́͑̎͋͌͒͠͠ ̴̨̬̞̭͔̼̫͍͙̖͈̜̥̲̥͎̦͕̟͔̭̍͆͌̈̒̎̒̌̒͗͂̔͛̈́͆͂̈̈́̕͜͠ ̷̯̼̻͔̼̣͔̟̄̏͝ ̵̡̢̡̣̞͈̠̯̙͕͍̘̪͎͇̗̦̖̦̪͔̜̝͕͇͔̬̍ ̴̧̛͖̫͎̺͙̪̮̜̫̣̦̥̗͔͉̭̙͕̙͈̲̫̙̈́̎̍̿͂̆̄̔̈́̋̀́́̌̐͊̐͛̈̄̓͒̚͜ͅ ̷̧̧̨̡̱͖̰̣̬̤̤͔̘͔̟̬̳̦̬͙͎͕͖̘̖̭̤͑͆͑͒͋̌̃̂͒͑̑͛̆̉̏̍̓̓̾̚̚͘͝͠͠ͅ ̸̛̤́̓̀̄̇͑̾͗̋̓͛͒̄ ̴̧̞͔̭̠̩̮͉̫͕͈͈͎̻̰͍̳̲̞̳̘̾̄͛͊̒͑̈̍͛̑͋̔̏́̍̈̇̂̊̅̐̕͝ ̶̛̫̲͎̰͕̘̩͙͓͍̥͓̬̽̏͐͐̂̏̑̽́̂̽̂̉͑̑̾̂̄̽̂͋͠͝ ̷̖͎̩̙͚̖̟̬̬̖̱̣͕̽̿̓́͗̇͒̀͌͋̀͊̽͒͂͗̕̕͠ ̶̡̡̨̛̛͇͓̘͙̰̫͖͔͇̺̠̤͓̪͔͈͉̲̮̥̲͖̹̰͚̝͔͉͓̱͓͕̼͙̤̖̯̻͈̘̭͎̝́͒̅̏̊͂̅̈́́͗̋̕͝ͅͅͅ ̶̢̢̡̡̡̡̛̹̖̳̜̟̖̘͕͙̲̭͉͕̝̠̫̹̼̖̜͇̘̱͍̪̦͕̖̣̭̫̫̘̝̟̱͕̘͂̉͑͑̑̔͌̐̋̔̄̏̓͋̉͂̑̈́̐͊̾͂̉͘͘̕͘͘ͅ ̷̧̧̛̻̫̗͖̟̬͔̘̣͚͇̇͐̈́̃͗̑͛̇̀̋̏͌͋̀̅͋̍̓̏͋̋̉̕͘͘͜͝͝ ̶̧̧̻͖͙͚͉̰̜͓̮̲͚͕̩͚̣̱̙̘͖͓͍̺̮̙͛̐̓̕ͅ ̸̢̘̰͇̙̮̣͖̺̥̜̲̜͚̦̙̯͕͍͉̹̯̟̤͈͖̔̕͜ͅ ̶̧̡̛̛̝̤̳̲̼̣̬̭̲͓͖͇͔͙̽͊͆́͐͌͒̊́̀̂͊͊̈́̒̆͆̈́͌͌̕͠ ̴̠̫̞̗̤͈̂̄͛̈̒̍̈́̀̄̂̿̋̿̄̐͑̉̔̐̏͘͝͝͝  ̴̢̨̢̨̩͓͓̬̪̙͕͎̱̫̣̗͉̖̜̠͈͈̼̥̳̩̻͍̯̲̱̱̯͇̫͍̖͇͖̝͈̙̬̍̇͑̃̋̈́̐͊͌͑̚̚͘͠͝ͅ ̴̨̨̧̢̨̧̟̱̫͉̻̥̼̫̣͈͚̬̜̣̣̯̫̣̬̗͇̟̼̫͕̟̮͔̠̆̀͆̂̇̎͂̈̉̀̊͗͛́́̽͗͐͐̈̈́͐͂͂̇̈̆̊̃͂͊̋̒̎̎̈́̚̕͜͜͠ ̵̧̢̧̡̢̻̩̬̳͍̲̦̖͓͉̲̙͈͚̯͍̞̖̖̞̯̠̞̬̳̘̪͕̪̞̱̇̒̅̉́̊̃̉̀͜ͅ ̶̷̡̡̧͖͎̼̭̖͓̲̭̩͚̲̬̰̭̥̞̭̻̜̠̼̩̮̥̜̗̱͎̗̗̪̗̟̰̥͔̣̞̬͕͓̜͙̬̹̗̠͈̹̼̖͉̺̮͚͖̙̓̿̄̈́͊͋̈͛͒̊͂̀͛͛́̋͋̀́̃̏̽̀̓̆͐̍́̆͌̎͆̋͋̎͊͆̈́̓́̓̀̇͂͊̀̚̕̕͝͝͝͠͠ ̸̧̛̛͕̲͔̜͉͇̂͑̅͛̊͑̄̽̈́͆͊̎̅̇̐̅̕͝ ̶̨̟̝͉̭̳̼̹͇̯͈̱͖̪͍̙̂̏̅̓̉̄̑̈́̒͂̃̊̔̓̃̔̎̕͘̕͠͠͠͠͝͝͝ ̷̨̳̙̺̲̭̳̠̩̱̞̖̯̦̭̾͋̌̂̿̒̓̎͗ͅ ̷̧̢̡̹̘̘̝̝̦͚͉͚͕̖̳̞̫̝͓̩̣͓̮͓̙̘̌͒́̊͆͒̆̀͌͌͜ͅ ̷͚̮͇̘̱̯͍͙̙̯̝̤̲̠̯̫͓̱͍̱͖̃̾ ̵̞̫̠̹͙̪̩̠̞̟̫̀͆͊̃͋͐͋̀̽̈́̌̕̕ ̵̡̢̠̖̘̰̮̣̤̙̍̅̄͒̃͛͑͒͘̚͜ ̸̩̠̑̑͊͑̍̄̒̇́̉͗͂͒͋̽̌̕̚͘̚͝͠ ̴̡̧̢̞̼̘͙̣̤̲̫̠̺̦͍̼̼͍̺͈̝̥͕̖̹͛̇̍̈́̀̂̑̓̋̑͌̑̓̅́̊̍͗̄͆͑̔͘͜͝ ̵̢̨͙̙̺̇̀͛̆̈́̓̒̓̃̿̉́͆͂͝͝͠ͅ ̵̨̟͙̟͕̥̠̩̆̐͂̑̎̐͋̌̏͜͠ ̶̧̢̨̛̫͇̮͉͈̠̳̦̜̱̬̳̻̳̯͗̄̌̎̇̄̓̊̓̈́̉̾̾́̀̃̈́́̑̈͘̕͘ ̸̨̨̱̤̯̟̮̗̰͚̯̮̫͎͖̙̬͉̰̳͚̒̀̅̎͛̄̌̌͛̿̅̂̿́̕ ̷̡̧̨͔͕̺͖̙͇͎̻̮̺̱̥̗̹̰͚̘̞̂́̆̍̐̄̓͂͌̎̉͂̂̈́̀͛̓͘̚̚͝ ̸̡̛̹̳̥͉͓͓̼̝͍̱̳͖̼̻̦̝͙̜̯̩̰̑̋̈́̈͑̒̂ͅ ̷̛̦̫͚̯͚̬̭̪̞̘̺͈̼̠̟̝̰̲͖̓͂̆͐̎̑̀̾̀̾̋̾͂̈́̔͘̚͘͝͝͠ ̶̡̼̰̝̳̯͓̲̼̖̹͚̓

̸̧̢̨͓̞̘̦͐̓̐̀̈̿̈́̒̋͂̔͒̽͗̂́͗̓̐̑̄̐́̚͠͝͝ ̶̛̛̯̠̬͕̂́̎͛̊͒̎͑̃͑̋̈́͑̎͋͌͒͠͠ ̴̨̬̞̭͔̼̫͍͙̖͈̜̥̲̥͎̦͕̟͔̭̍͆͌̈̒̎̒̌̒͗͂̔͛̈́͆͂̈̈́̕͜͠ ̷̯̼̻͔̼̣͔̟̄̏͝ ̵̡̢̡̣̞͈̠̯̙͕͍̘̪͎͇̗̦̖̦̪͔̜̝͕͇͔̬̍ ̴̧̛͖̫͎̺͙̪̮̜̫̣̦̥̗͔͉̭̙͕̙͈̲̫̙̈́̎̍̿͂̆̄̔̈́̋̀́́̌̐͊̐͛̈̄̓͒̚͜ͅ ̷̧̧̨̡̱͖̰̣̬̤̤͔̘͔̟̬̳̦̬͙͎͕͖̘̖̭̤͑͆͑͒͋̌̃̂͒͑̑͛̆̉̏̍̓̓̾̚̚͘͝͠͠ͅ ̸̛̤́̓̀̄̇͑̾͗̋̓͛͒̄ ̴̧̞͔̭̠̩̮͉̫͕͈͈͎̻̰͍̳̲̞̳̘̾̄͛͊̒͑̈̍͛̑͋̔̏́̍̈̇̂̊̅̐̕͝ ̶̛̫̲͎̰͕̘̩͙͓͍̥͓̬̽̏͐͐̂̏̑̽́̂̽̂̉͑̑̾̂̄̽̂͋͠͝ ̷̖͎̩̙͚̖̟̬̬̖̱̣͕̽̿̓́͗̇͒̀͌͋̀͊̽͒͂͗̕̕͠ ̶̡̡̨̛̛͇͓̘͙̰̫͖͔͇̺̠̤͓̪͔͈͉̲̮̥̲͖̹̰͚̝͔͉͓̱͓͕̼͙̤̖̯̻͈̘̭͎̝́͒̅̏̊͂̅̈́́͗̋̕͝ͅͅͅ ̶̢̢̡̡̡̡̛̹̖̳̜̟̖̘͕͙̲̭͉͕̝̠̫̹̼̖̜͇̘̱͍̪̦͕̖̣̭̫̫̘̝̟̱͕̘͂̉͑͑̑̔͌̐̋̔̄̏̓͋̉͂̑̈́̐͊̾͂̉͘͘̕͘͘ͅ ̷̧̧̛̻̫̗͖̟̬͔̘̣͚͇̇͐̈́̃͗̑͛̇̀̋̏͌͋̀̅͋̍̓̏͋̋̉̕͘͘͜͝͝ ̶̧̧̻͖͙͚͉̰̜͓̮̲͚͕̩͚̣̱̙̘͖͓͍̺̮̙͛̐̓̕ͅ ̸̢̘̰͇̙̮̣͖̺̥̜̲̜͚̦̙̯͕͍͉̹̯̟̤͈͖̔̕͜ͅ ̶̧̡̛̛̝̤̳̲̼̣̬̭̲͓͖͇͔͙̽͊͆́͐͌͒̊́̀̂͊͊̈́̒̆͆̈́͌͌̕͠ ̴̠̫̞̗̤͈̂̄͛̈̒̍̈́̀̄̂̿̋̿̄̐͑̉̔̐̏͘͝͝͝  ̴̢̨̢̨̩͓͓̬̪̙͕͎̱̫̣̗͉̖̜̠͈͈̼̥̳̩̻͍̯̲̱̱̯͇̫͍̖͇͖̝͈̙̬̍̇͑̃̋̈́̐͊͌͑̚̚͘͠͝ͅ ̴̨̨̧̢̨̧̟̱̫͉̻̥̼̫̣͈͚̬̜̣̣̯̫̣̬̗͇̟̼̫͕̟̮͔̠̆̀͆̂̇̎͂̈̉̀̊͗͛́́̽͗͐͐̈̈́͐͂͂̇̈̆̊̃͂͊̋̒̎̎̈́̚̕͜͜͠ ̵̧̢̧̡̢̻̩̬̳͍̲̦̖͓͉̲̙͈͚̯͍̞̖̖̞̯̠̞̬̳̘̪͕̪̞̱̇̒̅̉́̊̃̉̀͜ͅ ̶̷̡̡̧͖͎̼̭̖͓̲̭̩͚̲̬̰̭̥̞̭̻̜̠̼̩̮̥̜̗̱͎̗̗̪̗̟̰̥͔̣̞̬͕͓̜͙̬̹̗̠͈̹̼̖͉̺̮͚͖̙̓̿̄̈́͊͋̈͛͒̊͂̀͛͛́̋͋̀́̃̏̽̀̓̆͐̍́̆͌̎͆̋͋̎͊͆̈́̓́̓̀̇͂͊̀̚̕̕͝͝͝͠͠ ̸̧̛̛͕̲͔̜͉͇̂͑̅͛̊͑̄̽̈́͆͊̎̅̇̐̅̕͝ ̶̨̟̝͉̭̳̼̹͇̯͈̱͖̪͍̙̂̏̅̓̉̄̑̈́̒͂̃̊̔̓̃̔̎̕͘̕͠͠͠͠͝͝͝ ̷̨̳̙̺̲̭̳̠̩̱̞̖̯̦̭̾͋̌̂̿̒̓̎͗ͅ ̷̧̢̡̹̘̘̝̝̦͚͉͚͕̖̳̞̫̝͓̩̣͓̮͓̙̘̌͒́̊͆͒̆̀͌͌͜ͅ ̷͚̮͇̘̱̯͍͙̙̯̝̤̲̠̯̫͓̱͍̱͖̃̾ ̵̞̫̠̹͙̪̩̠̞̟̫̀͆͊̃͋͐͋̀̽̈́̌̕̕ ̵̡̢̠̖̘̰̮̣̤̙̍̅̄͒̃͛͑͒͘̚͜ ̸̩̠̑̑͊͑̍̄̒̇́̉͗͂͒͋̽̌̕̚͘̚͝͠ ̴̡̧̢̞̼̘͙̣̤̲̫̠̺̦͍̼̼͍̺͈̝̥͕̖̹͛̇̍̈́̀̂̑̓̋̑͌̑̓̅́̊̍͗̄͆͑̔͘͜͝ ̵̢̨͙̙̺̇̀͛̆̈́̓̒̓̃̿̉́͆͂͝͝͠ͅ ̵̨̟͙̟͕̥̠̩̆̐͂̑̎̐͋̌̏͜͠ ̶̧̢̨̛̫͇̮͉͈̠̳̦̜̱̬̳̻̳̯͗̄̌̎̇̄̓̊̓̈́̉̾̾́̀̃̈́́̑̈͘̕͘ ̸̨̨̱̤̯̟̮̗̰͚̯̮̫͎͖̙̬͉̰̳͚̒̀̅̎͛̄̌̌͛̿̅̂̿́̕ ̷̡̧̨͔͕̺͖̙͇͎̻̮̺̱̥̗̹̰͚̘̞̂́̆̍̐̄̓͂͌̎̉͂̂̈́̀͛̓͘̚̚͝ ̸̡̛̹̳̥͉͓͓̼̝͍̱̳͖̼̻̦̝͙̜̯̩̰̑̋̈́̈͑̒̂ͅ ̷̛̦̫͚̯͚̬̭̪̞̘̺͈̼̠̟̝̰̲͖̓͂̆͐̎̑̀̾̀̾̋̾͂̈́̔͘̚͘͝͝͠ ̶̡̼̰̝̳̯͓̲̼̖̹͚̓  ̶̡̡̨̛̛͇͓̘͙̰̫͖͔͇̺̠̤͓̪͔͈͉̲̮̥̲͖̹̰͚̝͔͉͓̱͓͕̼͙̤̖̯̻͈̘̭͎̝́͒̅̏̊͂̅̈́́͗̋̕͝ͅͅͅ ̶̢̢̡̡̡̡̛̹̖̳̜̟̖̘͕͙̲̭͉͕̝̠̫̹̼̖̜͇̘̱͍̪̦͕̖̣̭̫̫̘̝̟̱͕̘͂̉͑͑̑̔͌̐̋̔̄̏̓͋̉͂̑̈́̐͊̾͂̉͘͘̕͘͘ͅ ̷̲̼̬̰̼̝͖͌̿ ̷̧̢͈̩̙̜̰͙̯̝͔̲̲̩̰̤͎͎̦͒̇̐̈͂̋͗̿̿͑̚͝͝ ̵̢̢̧̗͚̩̱̭̺͕̬̥̣̤̥̦͇̫͇̝̥̜͖̜̤́͂ ̵͙̝͎̀̍̊̀̎̈́̅̔̐̎̾͂͆̌̐̇̉͗̋͋͘͘͝͝͝͝͝ͅ ̴̧̖̩̬͓̙̮͇͈̺̹͖́̌̀͊͑̊̓̿͂̅͒̊͋́͆̓͜͝͝͝͝ ̸̧͚͓̹̰̭͔͔̝͓͔̜̩͓̥̒̏̿́̈́̂͌̿͂̈́̍͊̿̂̀̓̾̚̚̕͜͠͝  ̶̢̢̺̻̳̭̘̩̙̼͍͈̣̰̠̠̹̑̈̔̈́͊̈́̉̏̏͆̓̃̕͝ͅ ̴̨̧̡̛͎̮̘̹̬͚̫̱̥̲͔͎͇͈̠̲͇̳̮̙̦̠͙͈̭̠͕͔͈͖͇̔̐̑͒́̔̒̈́̊̍͐̅͗͐͊̽̾́̑̉͌̾̀̀͌̾̚͘͜͜͝ͅͅͅͅ ̸̡̝̣̤̟͚̦͚̠̺̯̙̀̔́̓͗̔̓̀̕̚ ̸̨̨̡̞̩̠͔̰̱̦̦̝͎̦̖͉̩̜̱̰͎̗͓͌͑́́͜͜ ̷̧̪͎̦̞͇͍̗̠̯̦̪̯̠̥̿̈́̈͑̊̚̕͜ͅ ̵͍̗̮̹̪̦̬͇̣̻̭̻͒̒͛̾̈́̆̓̚ ̴̺̤̾́́̓̓̐̂̄͂̇͛̕ ̴̡̪͉̦͈̯̞̼͙̞̫̬̼̩̥̆͌̍̓̀͐̀͊̐̑͆͊́͌́̋̈̍̑͐̐͜͝͝͝͝ ̷̛̜̉̇̑́̍̔̄̒̃̅̚̕̕͝͝ ̶̡̖̰̠͖̙̬͓͇̜͚̲̼̝̖̓͆̎͊̑̍͐̈́́͝ ̶̢̠̮̮̺̹͙̤̮͈͕͚̱̠͖͈̻́̓̉̓͐̉́͒́̓͌̌̌͒̑́̈́̕ ̵̨̘̲̩͙̫̗̖̟͎͍͉̤͕͙̞̮̼͍̜̪̯͎̉ ̷̢̢̢̡͉̮̪̠͍̗̞͙̰̞͍̼̠͖̭̳͈̜̥̍́̓̽͒̽͘͜͜͝ ̴̡̢̛̭̼͓͉̯̲̱̻̂̀̍ ̵̢̛̛̼͔͖̮̝̼̜̠̗̱̼͍̣̭͖̬̗̘͙̜̥̹̺̐͂̍̔̌́͒̐̌̈́͆̾̎̚͝͝͝ͅ ̷̡̯̦͚̝͇͍̳̝̗̟͚̠̯̹͚͙̺̦̭̼͕̉̆́̂̋͒̋͊͊̾͂̌̍̽͊ ̶̢̧̡̟͕̪̱̰͙̼̠̪̠̥͎̫̞͎͕̩͖̥͙̰̲̙̭̇̈́̓̒͒̄̉̊̒̿̾͑͒̂͘̕͜͝ ̷̶̢̧̨̢̲̠̘̙̩̫̣͓̼̺͚̲͔̜͎̜͙̜̗͕̻̖͂͋̑͛̓̏̄̇͒̑̎̊̃̾̋͗̂̈́͊̅̀̈́̾̊͆̍͗̿̽̕̕͠͠ ̶̧̖̤̟͚͍̼͕̟̦̗͇̠̜͍̿̍̆͂̅͆͘͠ͅ ̵̡̡͇̺͈̠͌̂͂̿̕̕

---

 

*Chapter 90 - Breaking, Waiting… Goodbye 

“Altina, will you do anything to get your old Ashen Saint back?”

A gentle breeze had weaved past her, almost toppling her hat over. The leaves rustled over them, moving so that the sun beamed over her while covering the Ashen Saint’s alter ego in shade. Stuck between suspicion over this meeting this new personality and desperation to get the old one back, Altina leaned away, keeping a cautious distance between them while not bothering to hide her intrigue.

“...Anything is broad.”

The one who called himself Ishmelga snorted, waving his hand around casually like nothing really mattered. “That’s because I’m going to ask you to do something not many will accept.”

“What is it?”

Ishmelga pulls out his weapon and rests the tip against her chest. His eyes are wide and unseeing, drawing a drop of blood.

“You will have to die.”  

 

…

 

The feeling of death is not similar to the description in the books. For one, Altina doesn’t feel the searing pain that should come from being stabbed in the chest. There is no difficulty breathing despite the blood pooling in her lungs and the blood spilling from her heart. 

Perhaps it’s a mercy of being sacrificed at the Gral. 

Admittedly, this had been a difficult decision. Altina’s personal mission was to protect the Ashen Saint’s happiness until he came back. To have to sacrifice herself… Well… She remembers Old Class VII’s story about what happened at the Infernal Castle. The Ashen Saint had sacrificed himself to protect Crow. It was clear that he would rather die than let anyone else, but no one else was happy with the outcome.

For her to die…

Altina doesn’t really understand how much the Ashen Saint cared for her before his memories were wiped—doesn’t really know if they could even be called friends—but she predicts it’s likely that someone as soft-hearted as him will not be happy with this outcome. 

However, when the black mask slips off, she sees eyes that aren’t drowning in black. They shine… so bright, holding a deep sadness instead of empty hatred.

A word clicks in her head. She whispers, glad. 

“Ȓ̴̨̝̼e̶̛̥̭̔ḁ̶̠̾n̷̝̗̏…”

Finally, after a year and a half… For lack of better word, she would say this is worth it. 

If he disagrees, he is simply a hypocrite. 

Her body spasms when the blade is pulled out of her chest, but she is caught gently. Already, light is whiting out her vision, her material form fading away to transform into the Sword of the End. 

Death, however, surprisingly is not as scary as she thought it would be. Especially when she feels a warm hand glide over her hair. 

Belatedly, when she catches a glimpse of Juna’s and Millium’s expressions, she does realize she made one grave error.

To forget to say goodbye to the ones she grew to care for. Oh, if only she could find her voice and tell them everything will be alright…

But everything fades to black.

 

—-

 

There’s screaming. There’s laughter. It’s Millium’s nature to live in the present, but she can’t really comprehend it. Her mind whirls, sifting through the past, trying to pinpoint where everything went wrong. She remembers… feeling really heavy when they cracked the Ashen Saint’s true name. He had called her out back then.

“It can be difficult to escape one’s loyalty, and no magic will be able to undo that.” 

She remembers… at the rate things were going, it seemed like she would have to pick a side. Ironbloods or Class VII. How dumb, how silly, she had thought. She didn’t want to fight the people she cared about. Not seriously. She didn’t want to be caught in the middle like what happened at the end of the Civil War — Begging for Gramps to not take Crow ä̷̤͓́̿n̵̦̈́d̸̫̖̄ ̵̠̞̊R̸̢̋ë̶̬́͘ȁ̵͚͕n̸͉̎͜ away. 

She had gone with them that day, soaking in Lechter and Claire’s comfort while trying to force herself to believe that everything would be alright. Gramps had a plan even though Crow said that plan sucked, but Gramps was Gramps and his plans were absolute. 

Everything would be okay, they had told her. 

During the Summer Festival, Claire and Lechter had ushered her into a private room. They had told her that the plan was to sacrifice Altina, turning her into a sword or something. And… That was not okay. Even Millium had to put her foot on the line somewhere, even though doing so in front of people she had always followed was scary. 

Altina was basically her little sis, she didn’t want her to die! Why does she have to die?!

“Why di̸d̴ ̷R̸e̴a̴n̴ ̵h̷a̷ve to die?̵”

Oh, it was for Gramps's plan to work, they had explained to her.

Well, Gramps' plan sucked! 

But, Lechter and Claire still support him, and they were both super smart. They couldn’t be wrong because they weren’t dumb.

Still, for the first time in her life, Millium… refused. 

Unfortunately, refusing to let Altina go meant that… Millium was the only option left. Rufus had hammered in that fact when he waltzed into the room and knocked her out. 

When she woke up in the cold darkness in the middle of nowhere, feeling groggy and drugged, she forced herself to accept her fate. Better her than Altina, right? After all, the big sis has to protect the little sis, right? Right?

When Lechter had approached her, revealing that Altina was nowhere to be found, Millium had felt a mixture of relief and dread. Relief that Altina was probably safe, dread that she… uh… probably didn’t have much time left. 

It took way too long for the reality of death to hit her. So basically, she was going to have to sleep and never wake up? That was it? No more future? No more laughter? No more going on adventures with her friends, no more flying around the sky with Lammy, no more singing with Altina?  

These were familiar thoughts. The fear of death had haunted her sometime during her mission in Thors. She never knew there would come a day when she would have to take this seriously. Her consciousness would fade in and out just contemplating her death. 

The worst part would probably be the people she had to leave behind. She didn’t want anyone to cry, not again like that day at the Infernal Palace.  

No.

She couldn’t accept this. Not aga in not again notagainagainnotagain

When she woke up with a knife digging into her neck that adrenaline shot through her. She didn’t know if instinct wass the right word—since she was kinda made for this purpose—but her body reacted and struggled in a way that screamed fighting for survival.

She didn’t want to accept this, especially when all of her friends were fighting for her to live! Plus! Death was scary! Goodbyes were terrible! She knows because  ̶̥̮̅ ̶̬̪̽͆ ̶̥͇͐ ̶̨̉ ̶̖͑ ̸̒ͅ ̸̤͉̀ ̶͈̬̌̍ ̶̗̋ ̵͑ͅ ̷͇͐̀ ̵̹̠̀̏ ̴̲͎̒͊ ̷̻̠̅͋ ̸̍͜ ̷̯̔̓ ̸̡̏ ̷̨̨̛ ̷̥͗͑

She didn't want to die. She still has plenty of things to do. Class VII could find a way for everyone to live! She believed in them!

These feelings were so strong. 

So, she fought…

…Completely forgetting that her life meant the death of another.  

 

…

 

She watches Altina’s body fade into sparkles of light. 

Her hand reaches out. 

Wanting to grab her before she disappears. But… The lights rise up and up before condensing and transforming into a black sword.

She doesn’t know what to feel first. Guilt for not being able to protect her? Disbelief at how the two act like this was planned? Rage at the Ashen Saint for piercing her heart without mercy?

But, she's not like Crow. She doesn't want to kill the Ashen Saint out of anger or revenge.

Especially when…

These feelings are so familiar. 

 

 ̸̛̫̉̾̒ ̵̪̗̀̿͋ ̷̖͐̋̇͗ ̵̘̋̅̂ ̶̢͐͂̌͝ ̴̻̥̃͑̓͗ ̸̧̛̛͕̲͔̜͉͇̂͑̅͛̊͑̄̽̈́͆͊̎̅̇̐̅̕͝ ̶̨̟̝͉̭̳̼̹͇̯͈̱͖̪͍̙̂̏̅̓̉̄̑̈́̒͂̃̊̔̓̃̔̎̕͘̕͠͠͠͠͝͝͝ ̷̨̳̙̺̲̭̳̠̩̱̞̖̯̦̭̾͋̌̂̿̒̓̎͗ͅ ̷̧̢̡̹̘̘̝̝̦͚͉͚͕̖̳̞̫̝͓̩̣͓̮͓̙̘̌͒́̊͆͒̆̀͌͌͜ͅ ̷͚̮͇̘̱̯͍͙̙̯̝̤̲̠̯̫͓̱͍̱͖̃̾ ̵̞̫̠̹͙̪̩̠̞̟̫̀͆͊̃͋͐͋̀̽̈́̌̕̕ ̵̡̢̠̖̘̰̮̣̤̙̍̅̄͒̃͛͑͒͘̚͜ ̸̩̠̑̑͊͑̍̄̒̇́̉͗͂͒͋̽̌̕̚͘̚͝͠ ̴̡̧̢̞̼̘͙̣̤̲̫̠̺̦͍̼̼͍̺͈̝̥͕̖̹͛̇̍̈́̀̂̑̓̋̑͌̑̓̅́̊̍͗̄͆͑̔͘͜͝ ̵̢̨͙̙̺̇̀͛̆̈́̓̒̓̃̿̉́͆͂͝͝͠ͅ ̵̨̟͙̟͕̥̠̩̆̐͂̑̎̐͋̌̏͜͠ ̶̧̢̨̛̫͇̮͉͈̠̳̦̜̱̬̳̻̳̯͗̄̌̎̇̄̓̊̓̈́̉̾̾́̀̃̈́́̑̈͘̕͘ ̸̨̨̱̤̯̟̮̗̰͚̯̮̫͎͖̙̬͉̰̳͚̒̀̅̎͛̄̌̌͛̿̅̂̿́̕ ̷̡̧̨͔͕̺͖̙͇͎̻̮̺̱̥̗̹̰͚̘̞̂́̆̍̐̄̓͂͌̎̉͂̂̈́̀͛̓͘̚̚͝ ̸̡̛̹̳̥͉͓͓̼̝͍̱̳͖̼̻̦̝͙̜̯̩̰̑̋̈́̈͑̒̂ͅ ̷̛̦̫͚̯͚̬̭̪̞̘̺͈̼̠̟̝̰̲͖̓͂̆͐̎̑̀̾̀̾̋̾͂̈́̔͘̚͘͝͝͠ ̶̡̼̰̝̳̯͓̲̼̖̹͚̓  ̶̡̡̨̛̛͇͓̘͙̰̫͖͔͇̺̠̤͓̪͔͈͉̲̮̥̲͖̹̰͚̝͔͉͓̱͓͕̼͙̤̖̯̻͈̘̭͎̝́͒̅̏̊͂̅̈́́͗̋̕͝ͅͅͅ ̶̢̢̡̡̡̡̛̹̖̳̜̟̖̘͕͙̲̭͉͕̝̠̫̹̼̖̜͇̘̱͍̪̦͕̖̣̭̫̫̘̝̟̱͕̘͂̉͑͑̑̔͌̐̋̔̄̏̓͋̉͂̑̈́̐͊̾͂̉͘͘̕͘͘ͅ ̷̲̼̬̰̼̝͖͌̿ ̷̧̢͈̩̙̜̰͙̯̝͔̲̲̩̰̤͎͎̦͒̇̐̈͂̋͗̿̿͑̚͝͝ ̵̢̢̧̗͚̩̱̭̺͕̬̥̣̤̥̦͇̫͇̝̥̜͖̜̤́͂ ̵̀̍̊̀̎̈́̅̔̐̎̾͂͆̌̐̇͘͘͝͝͝͝ ̶̧̖̤̟͚͍̼͕̟̦̗͇̠̜͍̿̍̆͂̅͆͘͠ͅ ̵̡̡̧̧̧̢͇̺͈̠̰̪̬̥͌̂͂̿̕̕͜ ̵̘̋̅̂ ̶̢͐͂̌͝ ̴̻̥̃͑̓͗

 

It’s suddenly clear…

 

…Why this crushing feeling in her chest feels so familiar.

 

The stinging in her eyes is only a prelude to the sudden feeling of claws ripping into her skull. No one is touching her, the prince even dropped the knife and dropped her to the floor, but her head still feels like it's splitting apart. 

A tear spills onto the ground and suddenly the black floor is dyed red. The empty walls morph into vermilion, lined with columns and flames, identical to the Infernal Palace. Gramps, Cedrock, the Alberich guy and all the students disappear. They’re replaced by the visages of her old classmates, all huddled around… Rean. 

Another tear splashes onto the ground. Shivers wrack her frame. Suddenly, she remembers digging her nails into Laura’s arm as they watched a treasured friend take his last breath. 

“I love you all… so… so much…”

She remembers sobbing until her voice went raw. She remembers wishing she could’ve said something meaningful instead of begging him to open his eyes again. 

When another tear hits the floor, she blinks. The surroundings shift and change with each memory flashing through her head, there’s too many voices overlapping behind her, too many images to figure out and it feels like someone’s ripping her hair out, but she blinks and blinks, tries to claw herself to reality especially when she realizes it’s memories splitting her head apart.

Because really, it’s too much. It’s one thing to understand that the Ashen Saint killed Altina. It’s obvious that he’s a big bad now and she can take a page out of Crow’s revenge schtick. It’s… ah… no words can describe how to process the fact that Altina was killed by Rean. 

Rean, the guy who held himself back because he was too scared he might hurt someone. Rean, who was such a danger to himself because of his mental gymnastics of wanting to protect everyone that Millium was assigned to keep him safe from himself. Rean Schwarzer, Gramps’ biological son and the guy who died to save Crow. 

She remembers it all now.

Remembers most the feeling of just wanting everything to stop.

But, to stop won’t undo what’s been done.

Gramps only saw them as tools. 

Rean killed her little sis.

Altina died before Millium could say goodbye.

What… is she supposed to think? How is she supposed to feel? What is she supposed to do? Think, feel, and do the same thoughts, emotions, and actions as that day in the Infernal Palace? Have everything on repeat until someone dies again? 

As if Aidios or whoever decides everyones’ fates read her mind, someone uses magic to show the Courageous get blown up, burning Laura’s dad, Sara’s bracer friend, and the funny prince to smithereens. More cries and cackles ensue, and Millium’s acutely aware of which friends fall to the ground and which foes clap in celebration. 

Chills ripple throughout her whole body from head to toe. Shock is the only wall keeping her safe from emotions too real and overwhelming and crippling and breaking—

—CRACK—

She looks to the only one on this floor who could possibly understand what to do. Her eyes flick to where Crow is piloting Ordine, and he is… just as frozen in the past as everyone else seems to be. She doesn’t even have time to warn him before the cursed Holy Beast moves first.

And snaps its jaws around Crow’s Divine Knight.

“Instructor Crow!” 

It’s unsettling that everyone except Crow himself shows a reaction. However, at once, a massive white blur rushes forth and crashes into the cursed Holy Beast. Its jaws release as it’s slammed into the ground. A black blade drives itself into the core of the beast and a high-pitched, agonized roar shatters all noise until the only thing she can hear is ringing between her ears. 

—CRACK—

A pulse of darkness explodes from the beast and blasts everyone slightly away from the epicenter. She ignores his worship of the energy suddenly surging within him as she stares at how there’s suddenly a giant crack in the floor. 

—CRACK—

It takes a moment to process that the air at the center of the Gral now somehow has a severe crack running through it.

—CRACK—

Suddenly, she’s reminded that Rean said that the world would break at the end of the Gral. 

—CRACK—

And, like glass, the world shatters. 

Millium flails as the ground breaks apart, revealing nothing but darkness below. Her eyes flick up to her friends who stumble from the loss of footing before falling into the darkness. She can hear Crow’s and Ash’s curses, Juna’s and Kurt's screams. They're quickly accompanied by the rest of Class VII who begin to fall from the upper levels. 

The only ones who aren’t affected by the ground suddenly disappearing underneath them are Gramps and the Ironbloods, Alberich, the Ouroboros people, Valimar, the prince and—

“Wait.” Millium feels herself get grabbed by the neck when gravity begins to pull her down. Before she can protest, The crazy prince's fingers dig into her windpipe. Madness devours his eyes. “I wonder if your death would produce another sword like that. It’s only proper that the Vermillion Knight gets a proper weapon, don’t you agree?” 

Grabbing his hands and trying her best to pry them off her neck, but it’s as futile as before. Just as black spots begin to dance in her vision, her vision catches the light from an approaching sword. At once, the prince drops her and she falls into someone else’s grasp.

Lechter winks at them. “Now now, I think that’s enough sacrifice for the day. If you want the sword so badly, just win it from our dear Ashen Chevalier when you have a Rivalry, yeah?”

The crazy prince doesn't budge, still staring at Millium like a predator. “I still want a unique weapon forged with the soul now.”

“Oh really, why didn't you say so? Why don't I just—” Lechter doesn't sound sincere at all as his arms let go of Millium. Air suddenly whips past her as she begins to fall into the darkness below. “Whoops. Oh man, that's tragic. My arms suddenly got too weak to hold her for much longer. Sorry, Prince Cedric.”

She sees another wink as gravity keeps pulling her into the abyss. 

“Wait…”

Her arm shoots out, wanting to bring Lechter with her because he sounds like the big brother he's always been to her. She doesn't want to leave him here with people who make stupid plans.

She also—her eyes glance at Valimar, whose head is turned away from her, ignoring her plight—doesn’t want to leave them behind, either.

“Wait!”

But everyone becomes smaller and smaller as the distance between her and them grows into infinity.

Until she can't see them anymore.

Until it's just darkness and she feels so utterly alone.

 

---

 

“This is. And thou art. There is no safety. There is no end. The word must be heard in silence. There must be darkness to see the stars. The dance is always danced above the hollow place, above the terrible abyss.”

― Ursula K. LeGuin, The Farthest Shore

Notes:

For anyone confused about what exactly happened at the end it will be explained in the next update. Let’s just say how they escape the Gral is gonna be slightly different and I'm gonna take some creative liberties with the lore lol. I unfortunately couldn’t pull off a crazy cliffhanger like the canon did, so I had to resort to something more ambiguous. I kid you not, the plan for the ending changed so much that I had to almost completely throw out my original outline. By the end, I was sweating bullets because I was like how the heck did I get here and how the hell do I get myself out (╯°□°)╯︵ ┻━┻.

Just saying, 95% of the first three chapters were finished within a week. Ash’s part was surprisingly a lot of fun to write. Millium tho!!! TOOK TWO WEEKS TO FIGURE OUT. It was the hardest because her POV is usually carefree, cheery, curious and just goes with the flow so this whole thing feels out of character, but whatever sue me for trying to properly write this part lol. Granted, this wasn’t just a HER problem, many days were spent trying to figure out whose POV to use because I mean, how the f would ANYONE process that situation while being overloaded with buried memories (ಥ◡ಥ). Some other parts could've been better written but I'm tired and if I force myself to keep being perfectionist, this will go on another million year hiatus, so here you go~

Anyway, I said earlier that my plan was to end this by April. Well… That clearly didn’t happen lmao. Granted, at least there's one more chapter left? Right? Right??? I'm honestly leaning toward just posting the bare bones stuff I have (even though it makes no sense anymore after the changes) before the script gets flipped again and I go crazy, like pleaseeee let my suffering finally end!! But uh, don't be surprised if the next update shows 37/? lol.