Jaden could only stare at the screen, attempting to sort out the gruesome scene. Cold sweat came down his forehead, a quiet trembling resonating through his frame. After a few moments in silence, slowly, he halted the footage. Carefully, he maneuvered the mouse, hitting the replay button over and over again. He immersed himself in the blank face Aki held fast to, to the eerie calm she assumed, to even the almost sickening way she annihilated her assailant, imaginary sounds of whimpering and pleas echoing in the back of his brain. Disbelief ingrained itself in his brain, and soon, he thought back to his brother's suspicions, the unholy prospect of Aki's identity bombarding his senses. He bit his lip, trying to look for Yusei through the commotion, only to end up failing.

No.

No, he shouldn't even be looking for Yusei right now. Sector Security is apprehending the rest of the coven members, and from the looks of things, they're almost finished. Yusei told him to let Trudge have them for his worthless interrogations. The information was false anyways, and since they sided with Sam, in Yusei's eyes, they weren't of any use. They were weak, but rabid, traitors that needed to be put down, purged from the ranks of the coven. There was no reason for Jaden to keep them around. As for the remaining members in the ballroom, Jaden would have to leave the bodies there too, for the public to find. All that's left was to get out of here, with Aki in tow.

But where was he?

Why weren't they coming out?

Jaden clenched his fists. It was his job to distract Sector Security, and though he's doing everything in his power to keep them at bay, soon, even his hold will shatter. They didn't have time for this! Alexis was still waiting, wasn't she? She needed go get over there, and get both Yusei and Aki out.

Just then, he heard his phone vibrate.

He jumped in his seat. He regarded the tiny thing for a few precious seconds, before regaining his senses. He pressed the device against his ear, his eyes widening at the silence in the background. What's going on? "Yusei!" he shouted. "The gunmen are almost finished-"

"Can you stall them for a bit more?"

"W-what?"

"There's something I need to take care of," he said icily. "You and Alexis distract them, until I give the okay."

Jaden blinked.

He stole back toward the screen, the coven members all seemingly dead, in his eyes.

"How long?" he finally asked.

"Five more minutes."

He clenched his fists. "What's going on down there? What happened to Aki? What about the candidate?"

"I'll take care of them."

Ophelia gripped the handle of the ballroom door, her eyes combing through every single being, dancing pathetically within the room. She scowled at her fellow members, all of whom were struggling against society's own little puppets, losing respect as they did. All the while, she made out Sam's writhing figure, his hands twisting agonizingly around his heart. Before long, she fixed her gaze at the whore standing on top of him. Her lips parted, as she bore her eyes at the whore's back.

Then, with a single smile, Ophelia slid the cracked glass open.

Reigns of bullets assaulted her ears. She pressed her hand against the cold, as one by one, the power resonated through the air. Footsteps enamored around dancing scarlet, as the evening procession of lights softly caressed the violence around it. Gleeful laughter embraced the atmosphere, the iron engulfing whatever immaturity was left, turning its purity through the consistency of gunpowder and curses. Her eyes widened at the seams, before shaking away her sinking suspicions.

Her beloved would never lie to her like that; that woman wasn't anything special. And without her duel disk, she was nothing but an imitation, an insignificant presence in a torrent of idiocy. This power was probably just from Sam screwing up. She breathed in a deep, relieved sigh, then threw herself into the battlefield.

As of this point, not getting the innocent involved will be a bit of a challenge. Sector Security will come barging in any moment now, and what with those idiots still fighting, it seemed the scene will be unpleasant, at best. She needed to act fast, and, if need be, kill all the witnesses.

Yes, her beloved won't object to that. Everyone here has already seen him, thanks to that douche. There's no way she was just going to stand by and watch the normals haul the witch away. He'd forgive her, right? Just this once.

But why?

Why isn't she getting closer?

Her legs were drawing closer and closer to the whore, weren't they? She could feel the forceful air against her face, with blurred shapes passing by her. She could hear bullets whizzing past, missing their targets over and over again. She could even feel a few eyes boring her back, their instantly angered expressions now far removed from the world.

"Ophelia."

She froze.

Icy blue eyes regarded her coldly, and though Ophelia shivered, she adored them. A tiny frown tugged at his lips, and while he was dressed in that peculiar way, she managed to brush it aside. Her eyes meandered to his throat, and caught sight of that familiar, black rose she knew was real, not like the withered blossoms the other candidates simply made on their own. At an instant, she smiled, and bowed.

He's happy.

He's happy she's here.

"Sir," she whispered.

"What're you doing here?"

She straightened, as she hugged her hands to her chest. "Don't you remember?" she asked, the heat frustratedly plastered on her face. "Y-you said that…that we needed to kill the two of you, in order to take the title."

"And?"

She clenched her fists.

This was it.

This was it.

"I don't want you to die."

She could feel the shock on his face as she said it, her feelings laid out for him to see. She was trembling, shaking, her breaths becoming more and more uneven. She could hear her own heartbeat pounding against her skull, her thoughts growing more chaotic by the second. Still, she forced down her reluctance, closed her eyes, and said, "I love you."

The conversation played out then. What?

"Sir, I…I have special feelings for you," she stated quietly, as she looked back up. "I love you, more than you could possibly know."

O-Ophelia-

"T-that's why…!" she continued, fighting for her own breath. "I won't let anyone kill you! Sir, you're so much better than that! Why are you risking everything, just for one single woman?! You can do anything, be anything you wanted to be! I…I've always loved that about you! So please, please stop this…!"

She could feel the tears running down her cheek, the sheer desperation in her voice clouding her mind. Ophelia, calm down-

"I can't calm down! Sir, I'm in love with you! Please, stop this! Whatever you're doing this for, please, just stop!"

"It's none of your business."

"It is! It affects everyone, not just you sir! You, your Queens, and every member! You're putting a lot of people in danger!"

I can understand your concern, but please-

"T-that's why," she continued, as she forced herself to try and keep calm, "I'm speaking to you now. As your knight!"

"I didn't ask for your opinion."

"Whatever that woman means to you, there's nothing left! Please, stop this, before you end up killing yourself! You don't have anything to prove!"

You really are stubborn, aren't you?

"I'm begging you sir, please stop this nonsense."

Please don't cry.

She clenched her teeth. "Sir…"

Through the bullets, the screams, Ophelia could only stand there, waiting for the silence to pass. Here she was, trembling, shaking like a child. She couldn't move, couldn't even breathe, as she awaited for the words of her beloved. Everything she had spoken now, every little lie she'd told herself, had fallen apart, from the moment she talked with him, and for the very first time too. She was afraid, afraid of what he was going to think, afraid of how he was going to react to this sudden confession. But as of that point, she didn't care if everyone else saw; she was going to tell him, then and there. It didn't matter if she was labeled as incompetent, or insubordinate; she knew he'd never do such a thing. He was kind, and gentle, but proud all the same.

He was the kind of man she expected him to be.

She heard him draw a deep, low breath. "Ophelia."

Though she was frightened, she looked up. "S-sir?"

"You love me. That's what you've said, isn't it?"

She took a frantic step forward. "Of course."

"And you want me to stop this nonsense, is that right?"

Her tears were blinding her. "Y-yes!"

Just then, she felt a sharp pang, deep within her chest.

Her eyes widened. Her hands were still holding themselves, the tension carelessly drawn up towards her own heart. She could hear a quiet, agonizing scream, towards the back of her mind, as she replayed his words over and over again, in her mind. And all the while, as she took in the violence shrouding her own, wishful love, lips trembling, the utter look of betrayal on her face, her beloved stood there, with the same face she's always seen. From his hand, she saw the slightest traces of a gun, one soaked in black and red.

Her weight had buckled beneath her. The shock was still painted on her face. She tried opening her lips, tried questioning her superior, tried anything at all that could show him she was still dedicated to him. But when she did, only scarlet erupted from her mouth. Her body slammed against the hard floor, the cold, metallic surface now enamored with the bodies of her own, fallen comrades. She could hear that familiar hum, the power resonating from within the ballroom neither from Sam, nor her beloved.

"Ophelia," the witch began, walking toward her. "Your name is Ophelia, a character from Shakespeare's Hamlet."

She clutched the ground beneath her.

What?

"In the play," he continued, "the stupid girl fell in love with a man who couldn't possibly return her affections."

Why?

"She was so deluded and lonely, when he left."

This wasn't real.

"In fact, she keeps wandering all over the place. Sometimes, she's with her mother, other times in the palace, if only to wait for her Hamlet."

Only a fleeting nightmare.

"She drowned in a pond, refusing to save herself as she did. I'm sure you're aware of that ending."

She'll wake up, and he'll be there, with that gentle smile on his face.

"From the looks of things, I've damaged the tissue surrounding your lungs. No doubt the bullet tore apart some of the vessels. As of this point, ironically, you'll drown in your own blood. Funny, don't you think?"

He'll be there, waiting for her.

The witch toyed with the strand of her hair, scrutinizing it with nary a sympathetic emotion on his face. "And will he not come again?" he murmured quietly, dragging Ophelia through her own heartbreak. "No, no, he is dead."

Tears still streamed from her eyes.

"Go to thy deathbed."

She bit her lip, the humiliation overcoming her.

"He never will come again."

Alexis unlocked the doors, her light footsteps echoing through the corridors as she did. A wondrous smile grazed her lips, as she watched the officers flood the center, the injured gunmen now lying at their feet. Some were bleeding, others not, some cursing, others merely sitting in defeated silence, unable to comprehend the very fact that society, of all things, stopped them. She couldn't help but giggle at their defeated airs, before launching herself away from the windows, and racing to the ballrooms, the hem of her skirt scampering after her.

By now, everything should be handled. From what Jaden's told her, Aki's still alive. There was something else he wanted to say, though considering how bothered he was by it, Alexis decided not to pry. Yusei was doing just fine, as were the hostages, but it looks like there were a lot of injuries. As of this point, everyone was running out of the ballroom, and with Sector Security storming the building, Jaden's doing everything he can to keep them at bay.

She took a deep, relieved breath, as she ran through the hallways. She could feel the other coven members' gazes on her thin, frail body, the anger twisting their faces so humorlessly. She stole a mere look towards them, before turning away, and skimming from her thoughts, her ideas shallowly blinding her to them. She assumed her own, aristocratic atmosphere, indulging herself in her fancies, before leaving them to the mercy of a society they thought they'd forsaken so very long ago. When she turned back, their now tiny silhouettes being hauled away by Sector Security, she smirked haughtily, before going about her way.

Salem should still be watching, shouldn't he? Since Ophelia entered the ballroom, he's probably already seen Sam die. So this is what it should be then, shouldn't it? With this, the night will come racing back towards her, as she takes it upon herself to visit Sayer once again. The very fact that she and Yusei were still alive was grounds for her to celebrate. Who knows? Maybe when this is all over, Jaden could cook something again, and they'd all share the plate, like they used to.

Just then, from the corner of her eyes, she saw a familiar reporter standing there, with a solemn look on her face. She didn't pay any attention to the police officers, all of whom were now struggling to hold back the impatient crowds, nor to the gunmen, who had reporters shoving their microphones in their faces, or even to the city officials, who were all still agonizing over the incident. No, she was staring at Alexis, with dark shadows beneath her gaze, and a morbid, yet melancholic scowl, one that seemed so very familiar to the girl.

Ms. Raines.

She'd seen her.