The rules of the game were as follows (and the musts here are very important, as there truly was no other option):

1. In order to win, I must prove to Mothy that all the Sins are worthy of forgiveness.

2. I must uncover the mystery of the Sins and why they exist in the first place

3. I must collect the artifacts

4. I must not let anyone kill each other

5. I must not concede defeat

6. I must not tell anyone about my arrangement with Mothy

I must not tell anyone about my arrangement with Mothy. It seemed like the easiest rule to follow. I should have known better.

At least I had my artifacts. I held my bag steadfastly to my chest and stood with my head facing the floor, trying to come up with a way to win. How was I supposed to win, anyway? Uncover the truth about the Sins? I was already this far and had absolutely nothing. Prove to Mothy that all the Sins could be forgiven? What did that even mean? Two people were already dead… Lost… I had undoubtedly lost.

My exile began the moment I walked out the kitchen door. Before it even shut behind me, I felt the cold hand of loneliness claw at my ribcage. If I were to lose them all, eternity would undoubtedly feel like this. They had stolen me from my world but then became my new one. Unfair. Unfair.

A single pair of footsteps was in swift pursuit behind me. I knew who it was and why he came, so I did not bother turning around. Instead, I forced my quivering voice from out of my choked throat with great struggle. "I don't want you to come with me."

Len placed his hand on my shoulder, effectively parking me in the middle of the eerie palace hallway. He was out of breath, in all likelihood having caught up with me after sharing a few choice thoughts with those I left behind. Well, those who left me behind. "I'm going anyway," he said.

"I know," I replied shortly. Yet, no matter how much curtness I injected into my glare, the relief I felt inside nearly knocked me to my knees. The cold hand retracted. I could breathe again. "I'm going to find the door."

"Right." He shrank back slightly, and I hated that I couldn't find the right words. Everything that sprang into my head was an excuse for what happened back there, but he never did ask about it. He merely trailed behind me like a lost child. "Where are we going?"

"We're going to where I found your body," I answered. It was one of the only locations I could pinpoint in this place—the ballroom with the piano forte. However, I doubted the elusive door would turn up there. The room with the highest probability of its appearance was Meiko's bedroom, where she ate herself, but I didn't exactly know where it was. The piano forte was closer, anyway, and it was unlikely that the others were heading there next. I didn't want to run into them until I came up with a plan to ingratiate myself back into their good graces.

"You found my body… There's a lot I don't know, I realize, about everyone—about you, what you've experienced. I wish…" he trailed off.

"Yeah. There's a lot I don't know either," I said quietly.

It didn't take long to reach the ballroom and the scene that awaited us there. Black liquid had pooled around the piano, seeping from the keys, just like how I remembered it. I turned away a moment, gagging slightly. I had been avoiding this memory ever since I attained it. "Are you alright?" Len asked, not sure which to be more concerned about: the piano from hell or the Mayu about to throw up nothingness.

"Yes, I'm okay. I just don't like this place very much, but we still have to investigate." No door, though. That much was obvious. "C-Could you look under the lid? See if there's anything?"

Nodding, he observed the black liquid a moment before taking his first step into it. The sound of his shoe hitting the congealed substance was enough to send shivers down my spine. Len reached the piano in two long strides and opened the lid as quickly as possible. Some more black liquid spilled out and onto his footman's uniform. Len made a few panicked motions but pushed on anyway, leaning in and searched the desecrated strings for anything of value. "What am I supposed to be looking for?" Len asked, voice elevated by fear and disgust.

"Well, um, like an eye or something?"

"An—An eye?" His hand shot up to his face immediately, feeling if they were still there. "My eye?"

"Yeah. Yeah, yours. See anything?"

"There's nothing here," Len confirmed and quickly got himself out of there.

I sighed. "I suppose that means there's a you running about this place, if there's no trace of your body except the blood."

"You don't think I'm like just a floating eyeball or something, do you?"

"Anything's possible." I tried to suppress my laughter, but some still ended up spilling out of my mouth. "Sorry. This isn't funny."

"It really isn't," he said, gawking at the black stain across his shirt and jacket. But he was smiling.

"Well, we should get going. I think the others must have reached Meiko's bedroom by now. They probably found the door."

"You think the door's there, and they know that?"

"With Meiko with them, I'm sure they've deduced it's the most likely spot."

Len nodded, amusement depleting the longer he looked at me. I turned away and floated back to the hall, Len close behind. Before we could venture further, I noticed that he had stopped walking. Pivoting around, I saw that he was staring at the ground with clenched fists, and he looked like a lost child. "What's really going on, Mayu?"

My mouth twitched but I forced the words back down my throat. His frown grew more harrowing, and he took a few steps toward the wall and sat down right there. After a moment, I lowered myself down beside him. We waited there for a while, hoping to find some way to reach each other during these extenuating circumstances. I grinded my teeth, cursing Mothy and her boss and everyone like her until I almost couldn't focus on what Len said next.

"Can I see your hand?" he asked. Without any expectation of success, I held up my open right palm, the perfectly normal one. He shook his head, and with little resistance, I handed over the left one, still covered in bandages to hide the worst of it. He held it in both hands gingerly, like he was handling a delicate butterfly. "Can I…?"

"Alright," I permitted.

Slowly, he unraveled the bandages. Before I could feel my bare skin against the stagnant air of this place, I pointedly looked the other direction. When it was bandaged, I could almost pretend that the two missing fingers were actually there, but now that phantom feeling was gone. "What happened?" he whispered, as if speaking louder would break my bubble of acquiescence, and I would pull away.

"Meiko got me. Bit them right off during a struggle. I was lucky that she didn't kill me," I said, unsure if I had ever told anyone that small truth, even in life.

"But your piano…"

"I never did play again. Never wanted to, not when I couldn't go all-out."

"What happened after that?"

"Not much. I couldn't play, so I couldn't support myself any longer. I eventually caved and went back to live with my parents. That was a mistake. They married me off to the highest bidder, which wasn't very high considering they were receiving an eight-fingered specimen, and then eventually, I died. The end. Until it started back up again, that is."

I felt him press my hand against his cheek. "I'm so sorry. I'm sorry I wasn't there."

"Don't—It's not your fault. It's Mothy's. Everything is her fault. Everything. I'd kill her if I could. I'd kill her." If I just found a way how, I'd do it. Thinking about her made my blood boil. Every nerve of my being rejected her existence.

"You're not working for her." It was a statement. I pressed my lips together and, like always, said nothing. "You would never work for her," Len went on, "but for some reason, you can't talk about what's going on. That's it, right? You made a deal or something—something that could save us. At the beginning, Mothy was talking like we were at the end, but then all of a sudden, we're a part of a labyrinth with no clear objective or motivation? It didn't make sense. It's okay. You don't have to say anything. I know you can't."

I was stunned. How on earth… could I be so lucky as to have someone believe me? Even if I don't say anything, he believes me. I was stunned. "A-Are you sure? Are you sure you want to trust me?"

"If I can't trust you, then it doesn't matter what happens. There would be no point. I-I don't mean to sound so cliché, but—Ah, you're crying. I'm sorry. Did I say something wrong?"

Shaking my head vigorously, I kissed him fleetingly and then pushed myself to my feet, lifting up Len with my good hand as I went. "We're going to get out of here together, with everyone else. Let's see if we can catch up to them. You know where Meiko's bedroom is, right?"

Still slightly discombobulated by the ride of emotions we just sat through, he nodded and led the way, still grasping my hand as we went. We pushed through a maze of hallways—a labyrinth all to itself—but Len knew the way by heart, collected from his memories of his life here. We trudged up staircases and passed boarded window after boarded window until at last reaching the hallway where the bear slumbered. I only vaguely remembered this place, the last time I was here being when Yuka and I made our daring escape. Droplets of blood splotched the marble leading to her room, and I wondered if it belonged to me. The bedroom door was unlocked, and several sights vied for my attention as soon as we entered.

The door, a deep purple, stood in place of a closet in the back. Another splash of color illuminated a place on a low-lying table in front of a few armchairs. Red fruit sat in a basket—the seed. Yet, neither of these objects could tear me away from the three figures in the center, eyes blank with unknown intent, faces stolen from those dear to me.

Luka, Miku, and Len all stood in a perfect line. Their pale, sickly skin glowed white in the harsh dimness. My body froze with fear, yet I willed my eyes to search the ground, expecting to find another victim whose life was sucked out of them, but there was none to be seen. Next to me, with great urgency, Len whispered, "We have to run."

"Wait," I replied with every ounce of willpower in my being. "I don't think they're going to kill us."

They weren't doing anything, really. It was like they didn't see us. Slowly, with great whispered protest from Len, I took a step forward. All three heads snapped my direction, but they didn't move. I took another step forward, toward the basket of fruit on the table. Their eyes followed. Just like the Gumi I encountered by the spring, these dolls seemed to have no quarrel with me. I took hold of one of the red fruits and was whisked away in the blink of an eye to that strange place where no light could reach me.

"They call you evil, but I can't seem to believe them. Is it wrong for me to feel this way?" Meiko, who condemned not long ago, spoke with impassioned clarity.

"It's alright, little ones. I won't let them do anything to you. I've changed my mind. So, please. Be quiet just a little while longer, and we can escape." She spoke like she was talking to a child. The next lines were the same.

"I'll be right back. Just stay here a brief moment. I'll be right back."

The fruit was slipping out of my hand. Before it hit the ground, I caught it, still blinking back the memories that did not belong to me. When I looked up, the three dolls had disappeared, and Len was rushing toward me. "Is everything alright? How did you know they wouldn't attack?" he asked.

"I had a theory. It seems like it has just now been made truth," I answered, slipping the strange fruit in my bag.

Len noticed but did not ask. There was no use, anyway. "Well, should we go through the door, then?"

"That's what we came here for." With an encouraging grin, I stepped up to the door and prayed to whoever was listening that the three figures waiting here did not already satisfy their appetites with another meal.