Chapter Text
Chapter 1
From One Cage to Another
The House of Hearth sleeps, wrapped in silence. The halls, once filled with whispers and laughter during the day, now echo only with the occasional creak of wood settling. The cold night air seeps in through the cracks in the windows, making the dimly lit corridors feel even emptier.
Adrien moves like a shadow, each step precise, deliberate. His coat is fastened, gloves tightened, swords strapped to his back. This isn't like the other times he's snuck out—this isn't a simple patrol or errand. This is the last time. He presses a hand against the door handle, inhaling sharply, steeling himself for what's to come. And then—
"Adrien...?"
His body tenses. The voice is soft, barely above a whisper, but it cuts through the silence like a blade. He turns, slowly, and sees her.
Lynette stands at the top of the stairs, illuminated by the faint glow of the lanterns. Her hair is slightly tousled from sleep, ears twitching as she blinks the drowsiness away. Her nightgown hangs loosely around her frame, and her tail flicks lazily, but there's a crease of worry in her expression. Her eyes, usually unreadable to most, are filled with quiet concern as they scan him.
And that's when she sees it—the uniform.
Adrien doesn't move as her gaze flickers from the high-collared combat jacket to the weapons at his back, to the way his gloves are already secured. Her hands, once resting at her sides, curl into the fabric of her nightgown.
"Why are you dressed like that?"
Her voice is a little clearer now, more awake. More wary.
Adrien exhales through his nose, keeping his expression unreadable. He can't tell her. If she knew, she'd try to stop him. He can't let that happen.
"Go back to bed, Lynette. Everything is fine."
She doesn't move. Doesn't blink. Her tail stills completely. He knows that look—he's seen it a thousand times before. She's reading him. She's seeing through him, the way she always does.
"You're lying."
The words are soft, but they hit like a punch to the gut. Adrien clenches his jaw, resisting the instinct to avert his gaze. He should've known. He's never been able to lie to her. He's not Lyney—his words don't weave illusions, they don't deceive. Not to her.
But he has to try.
"It's just a mission." His voice is steady, as he had practiced. "I'll be back before lunch."
She takes a step forward. Then another. Slowly descending the stairs, like approaching a wounded animal that might bolt at any moment.
"Then why do you look like you're never coming back?"
Adrien grips the door handle tightly. Too tightly. His nails dig into his palm through the fabric of his gloves. He can't do this. He can't let her make him hesitate. If he stays, if he falters even for a second, he'll never leave. He swallows hard, shoving everything down—the guilt, the longing, the unbearable ache in his chest at the way she's looking at him.
"You're imagining things," he says flatly, his heart aching. "Go back to bed, Lynette."
She stops a few feet away, watching him, searching his face for something—some sign that he'll change his mind, that this isn't what she thinks it is. But Adrien doesn't give her that. He forces himself to hold firm, to keep his walls up.
And then, after a long, suffocating silence, she exhales.
"Adrien..." Her voice is barely above a whisper now. Gentle. Pleading. "Whatever this is... you don't have to do it alone."
Something inside him cracks. Just slightly. But he can't let it break him.
He looks at her one last time, memorizing everything—the way the lantern light catches the silver in her hair, the way her eyes reflect more emotion than her words ever will. He wishes, just for a second, that things were different. That he could reach out, that he could stay.
But he can't. Because if he does, he's dooming her to a future in this prison. And he refuses to let that happen.
So he turns away.
"Go back to bed, Lynette."
Then, before she can say another word before his resolve can waver—he steps through the door and into the night. The moment the cold air hits him, his mind screams at him to turn back. But his feet don't stop.
And his heart breaks in the process.
Last night...
The air was thick with tension, the weight of Adrien's decision settling on his shoulders. The walls of the House of Hearth felt smaller than ever, the path to Arlecchino's office an imposing stretch before him. This was it—no turning back now. No more escaping from his fate, from his choices.
Adrien knocked sharply, his heart pounding in his chest."It's Adrien, Father."
"Come in, Adrien. I am available now." Arlecchino's voice cut through the silence, calm and composed as ever."You said you had something urgent to tell me."
Adrien opened the door and stepped inside. The Knave, Arlecchino was sitting at her desk, surrounded by her documents and the eerie quiet that always filled the room. Her presence was suffocating, but Adrien didn't flinch. He was ready now. Ready to face her.
"I'm leaving. I won't be a weapon anymore. I want my freedom."
Arlecchino's neutral expression didn't waver, but the temperature in the room felt like it dropped. "Freedom? And what do you think that costs, Adrien?" she asked coldly. "You've lived under my protection, my guidance. Do you believe you can simply walk away from that without consequence?"
Adrien clenched his fists. "I don't need your protection. I don't need any of this anymore. I want a life where I can be myself—without the Fatui, without you."
A flicker of something crossed Arlecchino's gaze. "And what of Lynette?"
Adrien's breath caught. "What?"
Her voice lowered, laced with quiet malice. "You think walking away from this life will free her? No. You will only leave her behind. You may find your freedom, but she will still be here. You are...abandoning her, essentially."
Adrien's heart pounded painfully. "That's why I'm doing this. I'm not leaving without her."
A short, cold laugh escaped Arlecchino. "You think you can take her with you? You think the world beyond the Fatui is kinder? You're a fool, Adrien."
His nails dug into his palms. "I'd rather die than live another day as your pawn."
Arlecchino's smirk faded, replaced by a chilling stillness. "Then you'll have your wish. But you'll have to earn it. And knowing you, I know just the way to do it." She stood, and the air in the room shifted—charged, dangerous.
"A duel," she declared. "If you win, you leave with your freedom and your life. If I win... you die. Simple as that."
Adrien swallowed the lump in his throat. "Then let's finish this."
Present day...
To say he felt like a man walking toward his execution would have been an understatement.
In a way, it felt like he was walking toward death itself.
At just eighteen, Adrien Voltére had already seen the worst humanity had to offer. He had endured it, survived it. And now, he was willingly walking toward another inevitable battle—one he wasn't sure he could win.
Once, he had believed the Fatui's cause was too vast, too complex for him to fully grasp. But now, he understood it perfectly.
And he hated it.
The early morning air bit at his skin, sharp and cold, but it wasn't nearly as chilling as the presence beside him. Arlecchino walked ahead, silent, unbothered. The only sound between them was the soft rustling of her crimson cloak shifting with each step. The city streets were empty at this hour, the world still half-asleep as they made their way toward the outskirts.
Adrien followed, his pace steady, his heart anything but. His combat uniform clung tightly to him—the same one worn by every child in the House of Hearth during training. His twin swords were strapped to his legs, weighted and familiar. Most would find them cumbersome. To him, they were second nature.
One sword at a time. One charge at a time.
It was how he fought.
It was how he survived.
His cyan curls were damp from the sweat of his earlier restlessness. He hadn't slept. He couldn't. The weight of what was about to happen had settled deep in his chest, suffocating. His right eye, a striking violet, flickered toward the ground. His other eye remained hidden beneath an eyepatch, a constant reminder of the thing he refused to acknowledge.
A shiver ran down his spine—not from the cold, but from the brief glance Arlecchino cast over her shoulder. Her gaze flicked to him, assessing, lingering just long enough to make his throat tighten.
He straightened. He couldn't show hesitation.
"You still have time to walk away from this," she said, her voice calm, almost indifferent. "Call it a… special training session, and we can move on."
Adrien clenched his jaw. "No."
Her pace didn't slow. "Stubborn."
"I've made my decision," he said, voice steady despite the storm raging inside him. "I want out."
Arlecchino let the words settle between them for a moment. Then, without turning to face him, she asked, "And what exactly do you mean by 'this'?"
Adrien exhaled sharply, his fingers twitching at his sides. "I don't want to be a weapon anymore. I don't want to be something you or the Fatui can use and discard when convenient. I can't keep doing this. I can't keep pretending that this life is what I want. I'm tired of drowning my hands in blood at your command."
There. He said it.
Arlecchino hummed, tilting her head slightly. "A strange way to show your gratitude."
"I'm grateful," he admitted, though the words felt bitter on his tongue. "You saved me. But this… this isn't salvation. It's just another cage."
A sigh, long and drawn-out. "You say that the Fatui are monsters, that they are heartless. Then tell me, Adrien—" her voice lowered, sharpened like a blade, "—what does that make Lynette?"
His breath hitched. "What?"
She stopped walking. Finally, she turned to face him.
The eerie stillness in her gaze sent an involuntary chill through him.
"Don't take me for a fool," she continued. "I know about your infatuation with her. Did you think I hadn't noticed? You don't hide it nearly as well as you think you do."
Adrien's fists clenched, but before he could respond, she stepped forward, voice almost mocking.
"Why do you think I sent you on so many missions together?" A smirk. "I thought perhaps your attachment could be an asset. A source of motivation. But it seems I miscalculated."
His jaw tightened.
"You claim you want to escape this life, that you want freedom," Arlecchino mused. "But tell me—when you leave, where does that leave her?"
His heart pounded.
"You're so sure that walking away will fix everything," she said. "But what if it only leaves them behind to suffer in your place?"
Adrien's breath came unsteady now, his hands trembling at his sides.
"No… I'm doing this to free her," he said, voice raw. "To free all of them. Lynette, Lyney, Freminet… they deserve more than this."
"Then you should have stayed." Arlecchino's voice cut through him like a dagger. "Because all you've done is abandon them."
Adrien staggered back as if physically struck.
"Do you really think the world beyond the Fatui is kind?" she asked, stepping closer. "Do you think you can just leave and take them with you and I'd just allow it?"
His lips parted, but no words came.
"You are strong, Adrien," Arlecchino said, tilting her head slightly. "But strength is meaningless without resolve. I was hoping to nurture your abilities further. You have so much potential, and yet you are a foolish child with childish dreams..."
Silence stretched between them. Then, her expression hardened.
"Prove me wrong," she said simply. "Or die trying."
The wind howled around them as Adrien exhaled sharply, steadying himself.
"Then that's exactly what I'll do," he said, voice unwavering.
Arlecchino let out a quiet sigh, almost disappointed. "For someone as sharp as you, I'm surprised you'd resort to something so drastic. Such a waste… You had potential, Adrien. But you always did wear your heart on your sleeve, didn't you?"
Her voice was smooth, almost amused, yet laced with that same unshakable authority.
"Better to have a heart than to become someone who threw theirs away," he shot back.
Arlecchino paused for the briefest moment, letting the words hang between them. Then, she continued walking, her voice carrying easily over the sound of the wind.
"Sentimentality will be your undoing," she mused. "I suppose that's what sets you apart from your brother."
Adrien's steps faltered. Just slightly.
She knew exactly where to strike.
His fingers twitched toward the hilts of his swords, but he forced them to remain at his sides. Reacting now would only play into her hands.
He exhaled sharply, steadying himself, and masked his emotions behind a blank expression.
"I'm nothing like him."
Arlecchino hummed softly, tinged with knowing amusement. "No, I suppose not." She glanced at him over her shoulder, her gaze unreadable but sharp.
"He never hesitated."
Adrien's jaw clenched.
Because for the first time, he wasn't sure if she was right.
Arlecchino's smirk faded, her face adopting an unreadable expression. She studied him for a long moment before speaking again, her voice low and detached. "You could have had a future. You could have walked away from all of this without a fight."
"But I'm not running anymore," Adrien replied, his voice steady, though a flicker of uncertainty remained beneath the surface. "I'm taking control of my own life, even if it costs me everything."
"Very well," Arlecchino said, her tone almost too calm, as if she had anticipated this outcome all along. She moved to position herself across from him, her stance poised, ready for whatever came next. "Let's see if you still feel the same when it's over."
Adrien drew one of his twin blades, the metal gleaming in the pale light of the early morning. He took a steadying breath, trying to quell the storm of emotions swirling inside him. This was it. There was no turning back now.
He wouldn't let her win. He couldn't. With a determined grip, Adrien seized the handles of his blades, Arcana and Nexus, unsheathing them in a swift, fluid motion. The sound of steel ringing in the air was the only warning before he took his stance, every muscle in his body taut with readiness.
"Going all out from the start?" she mused, stepping forward with effortless grace. "I thought you preferred to start small—one blade at a time."
Adrien didn't answer. He couldn't afford to waste a single breath. The moment she moved, he knew—this wasn't just a test of strength. It was a battle against an unstoppable force.
Arlecchino launched forward, her polearm slicing through the air with blinding speed. Unlike most wielders, she didn't rely on wide, sweeping motions—her strikes were precise, calculated, and ruthless, each one aimed to force him into a corner. Adrien barely managed to parry, the clash of steel sending a jolt up his arms as he staggered back.
Then, he saw it—the Bond of Life burning across her skin. Crimson markings pulsed along her arms like embers beneath her skin, growing brighter with each exchange. She was feeding off the battle itself, her strength increasing the more she struck, the more damage she endured.
Adrien gritted his teeth. If he dragged this fight out, she'd only become stronger.
Fine. Then he'd have to end it fast.
With a sharp exhale, he twisted his stance, switching Arcana to his dominant hand. Sparks erupted as he swung downward, aiming to break her guard, but Arlecchino merely grinned. At the last second, she stepped forward instead of back, allowing the blow to land—but before Adrien could recoil, she redirected the force, twisting her polearm like a lever.
His balance broke for just a second. And that was all she needed.
She drove her palm into his chest, her Bond of Life igniting in a violent flare. Adrien's body lurched backward as an explosion of raw energy tore through him, sending him skidding across the battlefield. His breath hitched, his vision momentarily flickering—but he forced himself to stay upright.
Arlecchino exhaled, rolling her shoulders. The marks across her arms glowed brighter.
"You're quick," she admitted, tapping the base of her polearm against the ground. "But I wonder... how long can you last?"
Adrien wiped the blood from his lip. His heart pounded.
He couldn't let this drag on.
With a flick of his wrist, electricity surged through his blades, the alternating charges reaching their peak. If she wanted a fight to the death, he'd give her one.
And he'd make sure he was the one still standing at the end.
In a flash of movement, Adrien lunged, his blades clashing against Arlecchino's polearm in a flurry of sparks. He pressed forward, each strike crackling with energy, but she met every swing with effortless precision, her crimson eyes gleaming with something close to amusement.
Then, in a blink, she saw her opportunity.
Adrien had just committed to a downward strike—his stance momentarily rigid, momentum carrying him forward. With ruthless efficiency, Arlecchino twisted her body and drove her foot into his wrist, kicking Arcana clean out of his grasp. Before he could react, she pivoted, sweeping her leg in a low, brutal arc. Nexus flew from his other hand, clattering across the battlefield.
Adrien's eyes widened—he hadn't accounted for that.
But hesitation had no place here.
With a growl, he rushed her barehanded, fists crackling with residual electricity. He unleashed a relentless barrage of punches, his speed undeterred despite the sudden disadvantage. Arlecchino didn't even flinch.
She blocked each blow effortlessly, one-handed, her arm barely moving as she intercepted every strike with the back of her forearm.
"Desperation already?" she mused, eyes sharp with condescension.
Adrien clenched his teeth. He wasn't desperate.
He was buying time.
Arlecchino's smirk faltered as a high-pitched hum filled the air.
Before she could react, both Arcana and Nexus surged back toward him, drawn by an invisible force. Lightning arced between his fingertips, magnetizing the air around him.
The moment of realization struck too late—the twin blades shot back into his waiting hands with a crackling flash, the impact sending a shockwave through the battlefield.
Arlecchino's eyes flickered with genuine surprise. She hadn't known he could do that.
Adrien didn't give her a chance to recover.
He twisted, flipping Arcana in a reverse grip and slashing upward in one fluid motion, forcing Arlecchino to retreat a step—the first step back she had taken all fight.
He exhaled sharply, gripping his swords tighter. "You kicked them away once," he said, electricity crackling along his arms, "but they're never out of my reach."
Arlecchino's smirk returned, but this time, it was different. Sharper. Interested.
"How intriguing," she murmured. "Perhaps this duel will be entertaining after all."
Adrien was fast. But unfortunately, Arlecchino was faster.
The moment she regained her footing, she was on him again, her polearm a crimson blur. Adrien barely had time to react, blocking a downward strike with both blades crossed above his head. The impact rattled his arms, sending a numbing shock through his bones.
She was strong. Too strong.
Gritting his teeth, he pushed back, forcing her away just enough to regain some distance. He went for a counterattack, a feint with Nexus before twisting Arcana for a true strike, but Arlecchino didn't take the bait. She sidestepped with effortless grace, avoiding the crackling edge of his blade by mere inches.
Then, in a blink, her knee slammed into his gut.
Adrien choked, the air driven from his lungs. His guard faltered—just for a moment, but that was all she needed.
A ruthless backhand sent him staggering.
His vision blurred for a split second, static buzzing at the edges of his mind. She wasn't giving him time to think, to breathe, to react.
Another strike came—he barely ducked, feeling the polearm's blade carve through the air just above his head. He retaliated with a sweeping slash, hoping to at least clip her, but she twisted around it like smoke slipping through his fingers.
Then pain—white-hot and sharp.
A precise strike to his ribs, the blunt end of her weapon slamming into his side. His body screamed. He staggered back, gripping his swords tighter, but his stance was slipping. His movements were getting slower.
He was losing.
A realization crept into his mind like poison.
'What am I up against?' His breaths were ragged, his muscles burning with exhaustion. 'Archons, this is insane.'
Arlecchino hadn't broken a sweat.
Was she even human?
She noticed it.
That fleeting doubt in his eye. The way his shoulders tensed, his stance faltering.
And she smiled.
Not her usual smirk—not amusement or mockery. This was something darker. Something knowing.
"You're wondering, aren't you?" she said, tilting her head slightly, her voice almost gentle.
Adrien's grip tightened on his swords. He didn't answer.
Arlecchino stepped forward, leisurely twirling her polearm as if this were all just a game to her. "How unfair it is. How impossible. How no matter how hard you fight—" she disappeared in a blur of movement so fast he barely saw it before she reappeared behind him, her voice a whisper against his ear—
"—you cannot win."
Adrien whirled around, slashing wildly, but she was already gone.
A sharp pain exploded in his back as her polearm's haft slammed against his spine, sending him sprawling to the ground.
Dust rose around him.
His breathing was harsh, his body protesting as he forced himself back up onto his elbows.
Arlecchino loomed over him, polearm resting against her shoulder, her crimson gaze boring into him. "You're a fighter, Adrien. But tell me..."
She crouched slightly, lowering herself to his level.
"...Are you still so sure you're human?"
His heart pounded—not from exhaustion, but from something deeper. Something colder.
Because for the second time since the fight started…
He wasn't sure.
His gaze flickered to the side, briefly taking in the blood on his hands, the aching of his muscles. It felt as though he was facing something beyond human. Arlecchino moved with terrifying precision as if she were no mere mortal. Was she even human to begin with? The thought gnawed at him.
Arlecchino, noticing the flicker of doubt in his eye, smirked. "Are you starting to fear me, Adrien? You've been holding back for too long. And you know what that means, don't you?"
Adrien's heart pounded. The exhaustion was starting to get to him, and her words were digging into his fears, but he fought to stay steady. He glanced at her—cold, unreadable, unstoppable. She was right.
"Why won't you use it, Adrien?"
Adrien's body froze.
Arlecchino's nails pressed into his cheek, her voice mockingly soft. "You're dying, and you still refuse?"
His heartbeat slammed against his ribs.
"Oh…" She grinned. "I see. It makes you sick, doesn't it? Because every time you think about using it—"
She leaned in close.
"—you hear their screams all over again."
Adrien's breath hitched.
No.
The air around them grew heavy.
Arlecchino traced a finger down to his eyepatch. "You disgust me. You'd rather die than use the power your friend died to give you?"
Adrien trembled. His muscles locked, his throat tightening—
And then—
She ripped his eyepatch off.
Adrien screamed.
A shockwave of pure darkness erupted from his eye, tendrils of Delusion energy violently surging out. His body convulsed as the power rushed through him against his will.
The world around him shattered.
And in the back of his mind, he heard it.
"Adrien… help me—"
His best friend's voice.
'No. No, no, no, NO! HUGO!'
The Delusion forced his body to move. His own hands twitched—as if they weren't his. His own breath became ragged—as if something else was breathing for him.
And Arlecchino watched. Smiling.
"Now then," she whispered. "Let's see what kind of monster you really are."
As the surge of Electro energy overtook him, Adrien's mind became a blur. His consciousness was drowned by the overwhelming power, and any semblance of control he once had was gone. The only thing left was the raw, instinctual force of the Delusion now fully unleashed.
His body morphed into something monstrous, with the sharp claws of a beast crackling with deadly lightning. The third eye on his forehead glowed eerily and two horns grew from the top of his head, a symbol of the Delusion's complete takeover. His swords were long gone, replaced by a primal, vicious energy that surged through him like an unstoppable storm.
Adrien no longer resembled the young man who once had a plan, a purpose. He was nothing but a mindless beast now, driven by the savage need to strike and destroy. His eyes—if they could still be called eyes—were now filled with nothing but electricity, his movements erratic and wild as he lunged toward Arlecchino.
With every step he took, his claws left trails of lightning, the crackling energy sending shockwaves into the ground. He didn't think. He didn't feel. All he could do was strike. He charged at Arlecchino, his movements fierce and uncontrolled, like a storm unleashed, his every motion a violent, electrified swipe aimed to obliterate.
He didn't remember his promises to Lynette or Hugo. He didn't remember his regrets or his past. He only knew one thing now—he needed to destroy.
Arlecchino watched him closely, her expression a mixture of amusement and calculation. She had seen power before, but this... this was different. Adrien had crossed the line, fully giving in to the power of his Delusion. The beast before her, with his eyes now glowing with madness and a primal rage, was no longer the Adrien she had known. He was an unstoppable force of nature—pure electricity and fury.
His claws slashed at the air, the lightning crackling around him, and Arlecchino's eyes narrowed, preparing herself for the onslaught. She moved swiftly, her polearm glinting in the light as she parried Adrien's wild strikes. Each time she blocked, the force of the blow sent sparks flying, the ground beneath them shaking as the electricity charged through the air.
But Adrien didn't stop. His attacks became faster, wilder, more erratic as he sought to tear through her defenses. Arlecchino dodged and weaved, her movements sharp and calculated, always a step ahead. She had fought many strong opponents, but this was different. Adrien's raw, uncontrollable power made him unpredictable, and that was what made him dangerous.
As he lunged at her with another swipe of his claws, Arlecchino blocked it with a swift motion, sending Adrien sprawling to the ground. The lightning coursed through him, arcing off his body in violent bursts, but he was quick to recover, his fury only growing stronger.
"You're a monster now, Adrien," Arlecchino said, her voice cold and almost pitying. "This is the price of your weakness."
Adrien didn't respond. There was no humanity left in his eyes, only the storm of power consuming him. He lunged again, his claws aimed straight for her throat, but Arlecchino was already moving, twisting her polearm in a fluid motion, slamming it into his chest and sending him crashing back against the wall.
For a moment, Adrien's form flickered, and he let out a roar of frustration, his claws sparking as he tried to get back on his feet. His body seemed to vibrate with the power of his Delusion, the storm around him swirling more violently than ever before.
Arlecchino watched him, an almost satisfied expression on her face. "You've become nothing more than a beast, Adrien," she said, her voice laced with contempt. "You'll never win like this."
Adrien, lost in his fury, wasn't listening. His body trembled with the overload of energy, his third eye on his forehead glowing brighter, and for a split second, he hesitated.
That was all Arlecchino needed.
She lunged forward, her polearm piercing through the air with deadly precision. In one fluid motion, she aimed straight for his chest, where the heart of his Delusion pulsed with raw energy. The impact was heavy, but before she could fully connect, Adrien lashed out, his claws raking across her side in a blur of lightning. She grunted, stumbling back, but her strike still hit true.
The force of the blow sent Adrien crashing backward, his body flaring with electric sparks as the energy coursed through him. He fell to the ground, twitching and convulsing as the power of the Delusion continued to surge out of control. The beast that had taken over him seemed to lose its focus, and in that moment, Adrien's body lay still, his claws still sparking, his chest rising and falling erratically.
Arlecchino stood over him, watching the chaotic storm that was Adrien's form. "Is this what you wanted?" she asked, her voice soft, almost disappointed. "You traded your humanity for this."
But there was no response. There was no Adrien left to speak.
All that remained was the storm, thrashing and raging against its own chains, a mindless force of destruction.
Arlecchino stood over Adrien, her eyes cold and calculating as she observed the wild storm of lightning coursing through his body. He was a mindless beast now, and with each passing second, it seemed as though his body was mutating further, growing in size, his form distorting and becoming more monstrous. It was as if the Delusion was no longer enough to contain the power it had consumed him with, pushing his body beyond its natural limits.
She could feel the power radiating off him, and for a moment, a flicker of something—perhaps respect, or perhaps disdain—crossed her face. It was clear that Adrien was no longer the man he had been. This power, this mindless force, had consumed him entirely.
"You're more trouble than you're worth," Arlecchino muttered, her voice low, as she observed his form growing ever larger, more feral.
She could see the inevitable now—the moment his body would fail under the strain. This power was too much, even for him.
It was time to end this.
With a single motion, Arlecchino raised her hand, summoning the full extent of her power. In an instant, she launched Adrien across the battlefield, her strength sending him hurtling through the air, his body twisting violently as he was thrown like a ragdoll. The electric energy that surrounded him crackled and roared, but it was clear that he was losing control. His body, now monstrous, collided with the earth with an earth-shattering crash, and then, as if guided by fate, he was thrown over the edge of a nearby cliff and plunged into the water below.
The violent waves crashed around him, the energy that had consumed him rapidly dissipating as his body sank deeper into the water, his strength waning with each passing second. The lightning that had surrounded him fizzled out as his massive form slowly began to shrink, returning to the frail human shape that had once stood before her.
Arlecchino watched from above, her gaze steady as she saw the faint flicker of Adrien's human form below the surface. He was too weak now, his body and mind utterly drained by the Delusion's overwhelming power. She crossed her arms, an unreadable expression on her face.
"If the sea doesn't kill him..." she said, her voice almost detached. "...the world will."
She paused, her eyes lingering on the water, before turning to walk away. There was no need to finish him off—he had already sealed his own fate. She would leave him to his fate, whatever it was.
But deep down, a small part of her wondered whether she had been too hasty. If Adrien was truly as weak as she had come to believe, then this would be the end of him. But if he somehow survived… well, she would have to deal with that later.
For now, she had made her choice.
Adrien's body, sinking into the dark depths of the water, seemed like a final, tragic end. The storm of electricity that had once consumed him faded, leaving only the calm of the sea behind.
And with that, the battle was over.
She turned around once more, pausing only briefly as she glanced at the dark waves below.
'So this is it, then. The end of a potential I could never control.'
Her thoughts were sharp and precise, as always, but this time, they carried an undercurrent of something unexpected—an odd weight pressing against her chest. It was rare for her to feel anything but cold satisfaction after a fight like this, but there was something about Adrien's struggle that unsettled her. Perhaps it was the intensity of his desperation or the sheer violence of his transformation, but she couldn't dismiss the feeling that the boy had been more than just a pawn.
'Was he worth the effort?'
She glanced down once more at the waves, watching the water crash against the rocks below, where Adrien had vanished. The wind tugged at her cloak, but she stood still, deep in thought.
He had been a nuisance at best. A thorn in her side for too long. But this… this wasn't a victory she could savor. There had been something almost tragic about his plight—his futile attempts to escape his fate, the weight of his memories, and the power that had been far too much for him to control.
'He was different from his brother, wasn't he?'
A grimace tugged at the corner of her lips. The idea was almost laughable. Renard—cold, calculating, unfeeling—had always been easier to handle. But Adrien… Adrien had heart. A heart buried beneath all the anger, the hatred, the years of experimentation and suffering. He had been too human to be easily defeated. Too unwilling to let go of what he had fought for.
'He made his choice. And now... it's over.'
A quiet sigh escaped her lips, and her eyes softened for a brief moment. She had watched him unravel, and in the end, she couldn't help but wonder if this was all there had been for him. He was always playing with fire, always trying to fight back against the inevitable. And yet, he never could shake the feeling of being trapped.
He wasn't strong enough. And that was the harsh truth of it.
She stood there for a while, staring at the water, her mind caught between cold resolve and the faint echo of something she couldn't quite place. It wasn't regret—she didn't have the capacity for that. But it was something… something unfamiliar.
'If you had chosen differently, Adrien... maybe things would have been different for you.'
Her eyes flicked to the distant horizon. The thought was fleeting, nothing more than an idle curiosity. But it lingered, like the faintest scent of a distant memory that refused to be forgotten.
She would have to return to the House of Hearth, to the life she knew, and yet, as she turned to leave, a piece of her wondered if Adrien's death was truly the end of this chapter.
Her expression hardened as she walked away, the echoes of his storm still faint in her mind. Whatever else had been, whatever confusion lingered beneath the surface, it didn't matter. He was gone.
And that, for better or worse, was the end of it.
The waves lapped gently against the rocky shore, the salty breeze carrying the distant hum of the ocean. Sigewinne hummed as she walked along the water's edge, arms swinging lightly at her sides.
Then—she stopped.
Something wasn't right.
A dark shape lay crumpled on the damp rocks, half-buried in the sand.
Her ears twitched. Slowly, she stepped forward, her breath hitching as she got closer.
It was a person.
A young man.
His body was wrecked. Deep gashes marred his arms and torso, his uniform torn and soaked with blood. His left arm lay at an unnatural angle, and a deep puncture wound in his side still oozed crimson into the water. His breathing was shallow—almost nonexistent.
Sigewinne's heart dropped.
He was dying.
"Your Grace!" Her voice rang out, urgent, carrying through the air. "I need you—NOW!"
Footsteps rushed toward her.
The Duke of Meropide arrived within moments, his sharp gaze locking onto the scene before him. His expression darkened.
"He's alive?" Wriothesley crouched down, pressing two fingers against the boy's throat. A weak, fluttering pulse. Barely there.
"Not for long if we don't move." Sigewinne was already checking his wounds, her normally cheerful expression tight with urgency.
Wriothesley exhaled sharply. "Who the hell is he?"
Sigewinne didn't know.
But that didn't matter.
"Please help me get him back to the infirmary. Now."
With one final glance at the broken, bloodied boy, Wriothesley nodded.
And together—they carried Adrien Voltére away from death's grasp.