8.

Everywhere. The wraiths are everywhere.

Nagisa shoots another with the gun, calling another without thinking about it. They sweep the grief cubes greedily into their hands.

You're supposed to be noble.

They aren't. They have never been noble. They are greedy and selfish. They are a monster. That was why they had wished to begin with.

The guns change into daggers. They spin in midair, drawn by the magic.

Your magic is a killer's magic.

Isn't everyone's?

Nagisa dodges with a flip, fabric ripping into their arms. Blood drips. They don't care.

They think snow is falling. It's falling. It's not even Christmas. The wraiths just want the cold.

They put the grief cube to their mouth and press the ring to it. Then someone swears only a distance away.

Karma.

And then. Laughter, such loud laughter. Black tendrils cut through the air and stab into wraiths from behind.

'Wish granted,' Kyubey says in its usual detached amusement. 'Help your comrade, or you'll never be finished.'

They hear Kayano laugh. Nagisa wants to snap.

But they don't. They're too selfish.

They continue killing.