Re:Animation

by Tall-Gothic-Guy

When he chose to be diligent instead of submitting to his sloth, to be lawful instead of being good, to be ethical than to be moralistic, to uphold reason over honor, to prioritize his duties over his own interests—when he chose to value the Priest of the Serpent he saw himself as instead of being a human, he never knew the alternate path of pain he could have set himself on.

2. Castle of Sinners

His eyes fluttered gently, and he felt the strange sensation of his face being….soft and flexible as he frowned, as if it had lost all of tightened muscles it had developed from his years of service. As he opened his eyes widely, he was struck with bright light, and he stared without looking away, defying all physical reflexes of turning away from things that could hurt his eyes.

As he acknowledged the strange lack of discomfort by staring directly at the sun, he also noticed the lack of discomfort that comes from being hit by its heat rays. Wearing a cloak for most of his lifetime and under the moonlight, never spending too long awake in a time where humans were outside their beds, his skin should have stung by now.

But he didn't care.

He sighed, an audible exhale flowing out of his lips. He reached out with a hand towards the clear sky of blue, and he noticed that his hands looked smaller than before. Curious, he flipped it on both sides a few times to further examine it, finding the lack of callouses on the palm as well as the noticeable creases on his knuckles rather unfamiliar.

He held up his other hand next to it for comparison, and they were likewise small and baby-skinned, yet to appear worn from habitually wearing gauntlets and suffering years of unarmed brutality against scum and demons. Curling the fingers into fists, they didn't look intimidating. They looked incredibly childish to him.

After feeling their unbelievable smoothness, rubbing fingertips together, he took them to his face, feeling his own facial structure, and was once again struck with unfamiliarity. This shape felt too small, a bit chubby, and his nose felt tinier. Pinching his cheeks, he felt them to be very supple. A mother would enjoy doing this.

Placing his palms on the grassy ground, he pushed himself to sit up and he looked down on himself, releasing a breath of fascination on his new attire. Small black robes that lacked any appealing detail except for its incredible jet-black color that could almost absorb any light touching it. This is what he wore when he was still a wyrmm, enthusiastic and far too diligent for his own good, yet to know how to properly hold a knife or make anything other than zombies and finger bones.

And to his immense surprise, he has legs. The lower half of his robes had two tent-like protrusions, and as he felt them with his tiny graspers for hands, the sensation of being touched on his knees surged like lightning. His excitement was incredibly sudden and he nearly broke out a yelp.

His innate eagerness to explore now dominating his mindset, he quickly scrambled to get his legs underneath him, trying to remember how to bend the knees and angle the ankles. The toes can be dealt with later. After a few clumsy minutes, he finally got himself into a barely-similar crouch that Mother would do in times of stealth operations. One hand on the ground, the other stretched out beside him for balance, he stiffened the muscles on his lower appendages and had them bend outwards.

Being too sudden in his movements, he fell face-first to the grass.

And he laughed, bursting out in guffaws that caused his bloody tears to flow endlessly; the very first expression of mirth he has ever done in a very, very long time. For all he knew, he never once remembered the time he ever laughed at anything silly or just straightforwardly funny.

"Well, aren't you a cheery little kiddo?"

He stopped laughing instantly upon hearing a voice aside his own, the reflex of caution making its way to his instincts. All notions of experimentation now missing, he looked up with a rather feral glare and a predatory sneer on the stranger, his tiny fingers digging a nonexistent trench on the grass.

The woman wasn't disturbed by his attempt of a threat display, casually approaching his space and kneeling down slightly to his level, meeting his eyes with a gentle blue-eyed gaze. "Hey there, little guy. Practicing how to stand up?"

Now confused, his brow creasing in wonder, he leaned back to sit on his calves, trying to get a good look on this petite woman. She was admittedly adorable for someone near her second decade, and her golden hair tied messily into a side-ponytail gleamed brightly like a mirror under the sun. Just by looking at her physique, he concluded that his woman had given birth before. She smells good too.

Attracted to that smell, he reached out to her with his arms, demanding that she come close so he could soak in it.

The woman sighed rather exasperatingly, complying with his silent wish as she took him into her arms, his face pressed against the softness of her bountiful bosom, "Geez. Are you like this when you aren't being gloomy? That wasn't what he told me."

Climbing a little higher, he encircled his hands around her neck and buried his nose into her neck and shoulder, smelling her incessantly but subtly. She was so warm, so much that he could feel like melting into putty. Her smell strangely reminded him of the colors white and yellow. This smell was impossible to decipher properly with words, it's almost like a smell that didn't belong to anything in the living world. Both those details together brought a rather fuzzy feeling in his chest, and he instinctively tightened his embrace.

He didn't want to let go, and he hoped this woman doesn't too.

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"He said you were going to be rather touchy-feely but I didn't expect it like this." Minerva was at a loss, lightly running her fingers through the boy's short-cut hair of silky white while her other hand held him up against her by his rear, his legs somehow finding its ability to wrap around her slim waist despite being deprived of them for nearly 7 years. She briefly marveled at the stretchiness of his robes that allowed his lower appendages to embrace her like this without hitching them up to his thighs.

She expected to have the kid's face peering very closely at her own, the same way he would for anything that he saw for the first time and wouldn't eat his face while he's peering at every detail. That's what Viandegroc, his 'brother' told her. Rather, with all the stories and descriptions the 'Supreme Sins', as they call themselves, have shared to her, this sort of behavior barely came close. Rather, she expected someone taller, dourer, and older.

He's acting like a spoilt and clingy kid instead of a judgmental and sullen teen with a combustible temper. And how come he's shaped like a 10 or 12 year old compared to the rest of them, who looked exactly like the day they died?

Still, all that aside, with this boy now within her grasp, she could practically smother her face to what the others were expecting. Their suspicions were right. The 'Sloth' compatibility is inside this boy. Something similar to a Witch Factor is festering inside him like a tumor, stunted but present, liable to resume growing with the right stimulus.

Minerva pursed her lips, failing to hold back the urge and kissed the boy's temple, feeling an unnatural fondness for him growing inside her mind and tried not to think about it. Rather, she thought about something else, the likely outcome if he were to absorb the Sloth Witch Factor, for example. It could instantly give him the Authority of Sloth.

How would Sekhmet react if she were to meet this boy? The others found a strange familial connection to their Pandemonium counterparts, with varied results. The Witch of Sloth would likely treat him like some sort of son, but who knows? The most amusing of them all was when Echidna met that hulking giant of a man named Lucifer and the latter instantly began assaulting the Witch of Greed the sooner he was 'lied to', particularly by putting on airs as per usual.

"Hmph. Serves her right." Her lips curled into a smile. Echidna is her friend, yes, but sometimes, passions can get high and even Minerva had her issues with her fellow Witch. Seeing the Witch of Greed receive a good startle brought more than a little satisfaction within her, especially when her 'Greedy Big Brother' was the one who did the startling.

Though, their arrival here was more of a startle than anything else. Ever since Satella did that, things started stirring within Echidna's Castle of Dreams. There had been of prods in the barriers protecting it, as if someone was knocking on a wall, expecting to find a hollow part of it there. They were light during the first few days, barely something to worry about, but upon the second week, they became a lot more frequent and more intrusive, as if the person behind is actively trying to find a door and break it open.

The sooner Echidna tried to reinforce the barrier, that was what led to the break-in, similar to leaving the one window unguarded while you tried to board the door. The intruder was a very tall man wearing a black beaked mask, donning dark-brown robes and brown leather gloves that hid every bit of skin he had, and capped off with a wide-brimmed hat to conceal whatever remained of visible flesh.

He spoke politely when Minerva was the first to confront him, regarded every Witch he met with reverence, and never did anything to provoke any unsavory reactions. He didn't exude a threatening presence as well, even shared his origins and intentions with full transparency. Still, anyone aside from Satella and those qualified to the Trials entering the Castle of Dreams were anomalies, and there's no guarantee of harmlessness, even if they meant no harm. For one, his thoughts and memories aren't bare to the Witches. They were closed off just like a living being, and they were all Souls in Echidna's domain.

The sooner he was asked regarding his associates, that was when he became tight-lipped. Still, he maintained his kindly and respectful demeanor while keeping his information classified, his silver tongue allowing his intentions to be fully understood, enough to make the other Witches and Minerva herself side with maintaining his privacy. Echidna, however, was quite adamant in knowing, now resorting to being pushy or offering tasteful exchange for such information. Truly befitting the title of the Witch of Knowledge.

That was when he suddenly disappeared.

For some reason, Typhon was very silent throughout the exchange. And she thought the little Witch to be the most eager in regards to greeting new people, regardless of the threat they might bear.

When addressed about it, the answer was the most baffling thing they have ever heard in a very, very long time.

"Was that Papa?" Typhon questioned, oblivious to the shocked looks that were turned her way. Now Sekhmet gets to have a partner to fill in the 'Papa' role to match her 'Mama' role.

Minerva smiled ironically, "Now that I met my counterpart, no wonder Typhon and the rest reacted the way they did. Really felt like she's my sister or something."

Though the Matron arrived at the same time this kid did, tightly-knit as a family should be in many senses of the word, she's still recovering from the shock of being inside a living body after so long despite Minerva having already punched her.

The others were comparably quick to stabilize themselves post-punch, nothing a shake of the head and a stretch can't fix. Minerva still questions why William never went into a sensational shock when he first arrived. Even with all the information he freely gave away about himself, he was still a mystery. There was no clue for even Echidna to make clear deductions.

"Hm?" She just noticed that the kid had lifted his face from her neck, small white hands placed on her shoulders, and is now staring at her eyes, waiting for something interesting to happen while she's been ruminating. "What?" She asked innocently.

Taking one hand off her shoulder, he poked her nose, opening his mouth as it made contact before closing and drawing it away.

Minerva huffed in a chuckle, "Were you trying to say 'boop'? Hmm?" With a free hand, her other holding him up by his rear, she neared a finger to his teeny-tiny nose, smiling impishly, "This is how you do it. Boop! Hmmm!" Then she began squeezing it playfully, "You gotta do it like thiiiiiis or I might just take it ooooooff!"

The kid soundlessly laughed, gripping her wrist with a surprisingly tight hold while his other tried to reach for her nose again, intending to get even. His attempt of retaliation was cute and Minerva found joy in seeing it, his arms were too short under his baggy black sleeves.

Finding it futile, he targeted her nose-targeting arm, scratching specific parts that provoked involuntary weakness. "Ah! That tickles! Stop!" When her arm lost its stiffness, he took the opportunity like a viper.

With surprising viciousness, he shoved her hand aside with his forearm and closed the distance, his digits finding purchase in her nose with a smack and squeezed, shaking it side to side. All while he had an adorable smile on his face.

His grip could have shattered the nose bone, and that smack would have made anybody aside from her recoil from the pain, but Minerva only laughed, surprised at his cunning. Her nasal voice only made him laugh even harder, soundlessly. "Oh you little imp! How dare you take advantage of my weakness! How do you like it? Huh!? Huh!? Ooooh-dugudugudugudugudugudugudugu!" She paid back the pain by scratching his sides, now making him curl in her arms and his legs tightening around her waist, the sounds of his huffing and snickering becoming more apparent. "Owmnomnomnomnomnomnomnomnomnom!" The sooner the kid had let go of her nose, her lips swooped in to nibble on the crook on his neck, now adding to the kid's writhing and provoking him to pay her back some more by attacking any sensitive areas on her back with his fingers, making her yelp out, falling down to her knees and ending up pinning the kid underneath her. The kid did not stop his retaliation despite his position, his legs keeping her from rising up and incapable of fighting back while he had his tickling way with her. She was stronger than this kid by a large margin, but she relented to being the loser for his sakes.

At this moment, the two of them have assumed the roles of being an aunt and nephew pair, in virtue of the child being the son of Minerva's 'sister'.

Now through with their moment of silliness, the two concluded the escapade by clinging to each other tightly after sitting up from the ground. The intimacy lasting for more than a minute, they parted and maintained their contact through interlocked fingers, the kid straddling Minerva's lap.

"I like you, kid." She squeezed his hands, he squeezed back with great strength, trying to match her powerful grip that strangely didn't break his tiny hands to pieces, "I ought to introduce you to the other Witches, I'm sure they'll like you."

Minerva quickly frowned, thinking of the cons that could come from such an encounter.

Daphnee would definitely adore him straightaway, but the figurative line of 'wanting to eat you up' for being adorable won't be figurative when it comes to her. She would inevitably try to bite the kid's toes off, then the rest of the leg. Not a fun thought.

Carmilla would be safe, and likely try to pet his head while shyly cooing over him, but her Faceless Bride will definitely suffocate the kid the sooner she was yet to even touch him, and Minerva isn't going to tolerate anything like that happening.

She snorted. She doesn't even want to get started regarding Typhon. Even if the Witch acknowledges the boy as someone physically close to her age, she still has the chronic habit of Judging people on the first meetings. And even if reduced to a child in the Castle of Dreams, mentally and physically, the kid is still accountable to his sins and personal regrets in the Living World. Seeing his body crack to pieces or hearing him scream is the last thing Minerva will let happen.

Echidna? She doesn't even want to think about it. The former may have known Typhon, a child herself, but that's because the latter is a fellow Witch, an equal. It's not like Echidna wanted anything significant from a simpleton like the Witch of Pride after knowing her for so long, especially in her living life 400 years ago. This kid had a Sin festering in his Spirit but it's not like he succumbed to it and warped his personality accordingly. For all intents and purposes, this kid is just another living human that had made its way to the Castle of Dreams, bypassing the Trials aside. She'd definitely meddle in things when she shouldn't, especially when she's finished with absorbing every knowledge the kid would share to her.

She's glad for the presence of the Supreme Sins, especially Lucifer. That hulk of a human would do anything to protect the kid.

As for Sekhmet, Minerva's actually confident in the kid's meeting with her being peaceful. With the two being each other's counterpart in regards to the Sin they represent, it would be like a house on fire. She may not seem like it but the Witch of Sloth is fully capable of parenthood and even being a wife, providing she or her life partner had the energy to go through with it. Echidna is fully confident on such a hypothesis and even Sekhmet herself agreed. Proof of that is the latter's relationship to Typhon.

Minerva smiled. She can't wait. Who knows what might happen. Maybe she'd see the languid woman actually stand up for once and do something with her actual hands, like cuddle the kid to her chest and make him sleep beside her, indulge in the laziness the Sin of Sloth is known for. If she saw the Witch of Sloth do something extremely rare or otherwise doing something nobody would ever think of conceiving, like playing with his hair as they lie down or cradling him to her chest exactly like a mother would while she remain standing up, the other Witches would definitely lose their marbles over it.

She chuckled, and the excitement bubbled up inside her. Yes, she should definitely introduce her to this kid. The meeting of the other Witches with their Pandemonium counterparts were quite civil, and sometimes even intimate, barring the two Greeds, of course. She wants to see Sekhmet's reaction, and likewise the others think the same. Minerva herself barely interacted with her counterpart beyond a punch to the face but that can wait.

Then she felt something wet hit the back of her hand.

"Hm?" She and the kid looked down, and they found something akin to a water splat. Before she could start questioning it, the sound of something small and solid hit the grass beside her, drawing her attention to it, her head twisting in such speeds it should have snapped her neck.

Then another occurred behind the kid, quickly followed by a third on her left. More and more began emanating around her, and she quickly realized the area around her being dim, the shine of the sun nonexistent. Looking up and gaped, seeing something she never thought would ever see again since her passing.

A rain cloud.

Her dampening face instantly grouched and turned red, her eyes beginning to weep as she turned a sneer to a random direction, shouting supersonically and healing any eardrum within her proximity, "ECHIDNA! ARE YOU RESPONSIBLE FOR THIS!? KNOCK IT OFF! YOU'RE GONNA GIVE THE KID A COLD!"

There was no response, and her anger instantly rose up even further, mirroring the growing intensity of the rain, leaving her and the kid even more drenched, her ponytail sagging towards her face. For some reason, the water is warm. But that's not her concern right now. "I KNOW YOU'RE LISTENING! HURRY UP AND FIXED THIS DAMN THING ALREADY!"

At that point, Echidna should have shown up or at least explained herself, but the result was the same. Nothing.

Growling, she quickly unbuttoned her vest and took it off, leaving her in her blue minidress, before throwing it over the kid's head, keeping him shielded from the downpour. "Here you go." She curtly said, her irate mood bare on her words and wet face, "That'll keep you dry till I give her an earful about this. Stupid Echidna."

He stared at her, clutching the hem of her white coat. After a few seconds, he pulled it a bit further on his head, obscuring his visage from sight and wiggled forward on her thighs, still incapable of using his legs effectively to knee-walk. She stared, and once his hips met her own, her eyes went wide as the kid threw the coat on her head as well, shielding her from the rain with him before hugging her tightly around her waist, his face buried into her breasts, seeking refuge in her warmth despite her damp state.

Something ignited within Minerva's heart, and she was overcome with tears. This time, it had nothing to do with her Righteous Wrath.

The kid is shivering, a subtle but present sensation, completely vulnerable, and fragile in her arms. A severe contrast to what he actually was in the Living World. He looked like he was going to crumble to dust. It struck something in her, something too deep and personal. Her heart ached. It was unbearable. She had existed in the Castle of Dreams for centuries since having her Soul taken by Echidna, doing all she can to try and not think about it, but this child's gesture to put her first before himself instead broke all her 400 years of effort and threw it back to her face.

She was glad for her face being wet from the rain, otherwise he'd see the emotions on her face and do something else that would hit far closer to home if he looked up.

She reciprocated his sweet gesture, tightening the arms wrapped around him with one hand behind his head, almost possessively, the Authority of Wrath healing him continuously under the mountain-crushing pressure of her embrace, trying not to acknowledge the thought of him leaving her grasp being unbearable, and buried her mouth to his wet white hair, barely noticing herself giving it a kiss. The roar of the downpour masked her sobs and spared Minerva from any more sympathy and compassion. But she's sure the kid noticed. The consoling pats and rubs on her back were another attempt of breaking her down.

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He was disturbed by the sound of an adorable voice.

"Such itty-bitty toes…."

"Daphne….! I'm warning you!"

He can hear the blonde woman's loud voice, coming from directly behind and above him. He must still be sitting on her lap, now facing outwards and asleep the whole time while her slim yet iron-hard arms are wrapped around his waist. The rain he made is gone too. His robes felt dry.

"This little piggy went to the bazaar…."

"NO!"

Suddenly, his form was jostled in her arms, as if the person holding him suddenly jumped. He felt weightless for a second before a hard impact whiplashed his chin to his chest.

It didn't hurt, strangely, but it was enough to fully snap him awake.

Hanging from the blonde woman's arms, he looked around him, trying to figure out what's going on.

"This little piggy stayed at home…."

"DAMN IT! STOP IT ALREADY!"

He was jostled again, his neck and limbs snapping sideways from the blonde woman's sudden movement. For some reason, his bones are still intact. Rather, it felt like they just got a whole lot better.

"This little piggy had roast beef…."

Before he was subjected to another whiplash, he suddenly thought of a large hunk meat he once roasted on a spit. It came from a rare mystical beast that is craved for its delectable insides when cooked properly. He found one in the wilds, managed to shoot its nimble frame down, and wasted no time getting it cooked on the spot with the help of a tiny Fire Golem.

So juicy and delicious it was, even the smell of the meat left him drooling a puddle on the soil.

As the blonde woman crash-landed back to the ground in an explosion of dust and earth, he was now ready, scrambled orientation quickly recovering and turning his eyes to whoever was enumerating the doings of the little piggies. And he watched an open Iron Maiden or double-door Casket with spider legs located at the feet end crawl straight towards him, the blindfolded girl chained inside drooling incessantly, stating the last little piggy's action in a very loveable voice.

"And this little piggy did—"

The Coffin Rider fell silent and suddenly halted in place, the momentum of her movement somehow disappearing, her blindfolded vision aimed straight at what he threw at her face, her tiny nose sniffing incessantly. "Nooo…..don't waste food like that."

Her Coffin skittered backwards, rearing back precariously on 2 legs out of 6 while her mouth opened wide to catch it. And the steaming drumstick of red and brown meat, oozing with sauce and grease, stuck a perfect landing on her hatch, practically being slurped inside as if it was made of liquid.

"Mmmmm…..mmmm….!" Orgasmic moans came out, her tiny form shaking while her drools began overflowing again, now drenching her entire front and soaking the soft cushion of her Coffin. "So gooooood…. So tasty! So juicy and tender…! Better than Chid-Chid's cookies….! More…! Please gimme more….! Please….! Just put it in my mouth…please…hurry….hurry…."

"COULD YOU PHRASE YOUR WORDS BETTER THAN THAT!? ALL OF THAT SOUNDS SO WRONG HERE!"

Ignoring the blonde woman's red-faced complaints, he thought of another meal and held a large square chop of meat in his hands above his head, freshly cooked and still dripping with grilled wine sauces, and threw it in a high arc, the distance considerably shorter than before.

"Ooh…."

Just like before, the Coffin girl skittered to its landing trajectory and slurped it up faster than he thought possible for something as tiny and adorable as her the sooner it landed on her mouth, red cheeks bulging and wiggling, noisily chewing it as if she was drawing pleasure from the act of eating. Some of the sauces splattered her clothes, but it strangely was absorbed into the fabric, leaving no stains.

His carrier knelt down to the ground, allowing his rear to sit on the grass. As the arms detached themselves off his waist, he looked up upside-down to the blonde woman's awestruck face looking at his sauce-covered hands while gripping his wrists so tightly to the point of health. "How are you doing that?" She asked in disbelief. "I thought Echidna's the only one who could do this. Daphne, what does it taste like?"

"Like cooked meat….it's super tasty, Ner-Ner. The quality is just indescribable, like he had a gift for grilling. The baby must be a very good chef….It's been sooooo long since I've eaten anything like this. I think I'm falling in love…..It makes me wanna eat him. You should try some…..maybe you'll fall in love with him too….."

"Hmpf."

Ner-Ner looked down on him, and he was already ahead of the Coffin girl, already holding out a small piece of fried red meat in-between his fingers, hot and steaming as he neared it to her lips.

Grouching, she nonetheless took the meat off his fingers and popped it to her mouth, sampling its taste while closing her eyes in concentration.

Her eyes shot open, her sea-blue orbs shining brightly, "Wow! This does taste good! Echidna's cookies that taste like her spit has nothing on it!"

"Don't be mean, Ner-Ner…..Chid-Chid's cookies are tasty toooooo. You just gotta appreciate them a little more…."

Ner-Ner scoffed, "Whatever. I prefer his."

If that's the case, he should have her try something a bit simpler, like freshly baked bread, hot and soft. He held out a bun that's a tad bit plumper than his hand to her mouth, already touching her lips. "Thank you." She received it and split it in half, holding one half to his mouth. "You should eat too. I don't like the thought of myself being spoiled by a kid."

"Really? After crying your heart out while you hugged him when it was raining—"

"I WASN'T CRYING, OKAY!? I TOTALLY WAS NOT! SHUT UP! STUPID DAPHNE! STUPID! STUPID! SO STUPID! YOU'RE VERY STUPID! AND ALSO….! Uh….S….STUPID!"

Through with her supersonic yelling of impoverished vocabulary that healed his eardrums and internal organs, she began angry-eating the bread, some of her tears adding salt to it. He looked down and peacefully ate his half with both hands, enjoying the warm and fluffy texture in his mouth while squeezing it.

"Include me toooo….." Daphne moaned, her Coffin already leaning downwards precariously, threatening to crush him and Ner-Ner flat if it tipped over. With her drooling mouth in near-proximity, a slim arm pulled him to the blonde woman's impressive chest protectively, keeping him away from the visible teeth that were pointy and looked very sharp.

Still, he didn't want to leave her out. So he gave her some unleavened bread glazed in apple jam and topped with apple slices, one of his prime favorites. He threw it to her and watched as some parts were caught in her mouth, the rest smacking against her small frame, being absorbed directly into her skin.

"Did you once cook these things?" Ner-Ner asked.

He shook his head. Most of that were born from the memory of eating them. He only knew some of their recipes by watching others make them and would like a chance to make one on his own, but honestly, did Pandemonium ever give him the opportunity? That Hellhole wouldn't let him.

"Such an ugly world you're born in." Minerva commented with a click of her tongue, her tone of voice laced with immature spite and a slight bit of understanding. "Honestly, you and everyone else inside, hurting each other left and right for no reason other than because you were all abandoned during the Rapture…it pisses me off. I hate your world."

"At least the beings there could eat, riiiight? Baby's world got lots of delicious things….Hellspawn, angels, demons, humans, animals, beasties and even dead things. I bet their green is delicious too….."

He smiled. If Daphne was brought there, she'd be a good weapon against the hellspawn in the Uncharted Areas for human expansion. She would even work as a primary vessel for the Supreme Sin of Gluttony, locking other humans from falling to the Corruption for the next couple centuries. The Order of the Serpent would be capable of controlling her.

"We haven't told you our names yet, right, Baby….?" Chains rustled, paper was ripped, and he watched as Daphne detached herself from her Coffin's restraints and flopped to the ground like a baby whale. Sitting up on her knees and stretching her stiff limbs in her white skin suit, she crawled on her hands and knees towards him. Ner-Ner tightly wrapped her hands around him and started knee-walking away. "I got fed a little so I can go for a little walk…."

"You're crawling." Ner-Ner pointed out, voice deadpan.

"If I walk, I'll just get even more hungry….." Yawning, she then stopped and lied her belly down on the grass, resting her chin on her forearm. "You smell so gooood, baby. I wanna go on and eat you, but Lily, Fer-Fer, Met-Met and Chid-Chid would get maaaad."

"HEY! INCLUDE ME TOO! I WOULD GET MAD IF YOU EAT HIM!"

"It's not like you care about him, right….?" Daphne pointed out, and he felt the blonde woman stiffen through his hold on him, "You only care about people if they're hurt."

"OF COURSE I'D CARE ABOUT PEOPLE IF THEY'RE HURT! WHAT I WANT IS A WORLD WITH NO WAR AND SUFFERING!" Then her supersonic voice became subdued, her next words firm and without doubt, "If that's how I was in my living life, it ain't changing in this place as well."

Daphne licked her lips, turning her blindfolded gaze to him, "My name's Daphne, the Witch of Gluttony. Thanks for feeding me, baby. I think I love you now. I don't think I've ate anything as delicious as that since Mama and Papa."

His cheeks stiffened, his small hands curling into fists, the skies darkening even further in response to his suddenly-rising emotions.

Then just as quickly, the rising fire was doused by a mental bucket of water, the light of the grasslands illuminating like a spark that ignited the bonfire and banished the night's darkness.

He turned his neck around to face Ner-Ner, now awaiting her self-introduction. She looked at him as if he was about to blow up, her body language stiff and alarmed, coiled tightly, ready to spring off.

"Baby wants to know your name too, Ner-Ner….."

Ner-Ner yelped in a cute voice, her form switching from cautious to flustered in a millisecond. He smiled, snickering. "I-I know that! Don't tell me what to do, Daphne! Also, stop laughing at me!"

He covered his mouth with his hand, but failing to hide the signs of laughing with his bulging cheeks and twitching chest.

"Hmpf!" She turned her head away, crossing her arms and emphasizing her abundant chest. "I'm the Witch of Wrath, Minerva. Behave well and I won't have to heal you."

He raised an eyebrow, confused, still covering his mouth.

Then he lowered it down, realizing the meaning. He should have noticed it sooner. The way she's handling or holding him should have killed him by now, but somehow, he's feeling healthier than ever. He could even feel his toes wiggling, his control over them becoming sub-optimal. She must have been the one who gave him his legs back.

And she bears the Sin of Wrath in her too, just like Mother.

He should be thankful.

Stood properly on his knees this time, a small moment of balance adjustment aside, he reached forward for her shoulders, pulled her close, and pecked her lips.

Her yelp was a lot louder this time as she was blown backwards by his tiny kiss, and the color on her face was very apple red, pale complexion nonexistent. She rubbed her lips with her sleeve furiously, glaring at him tearfully, "WH-WH-WHA-WHA-WHAT!? THE HELL ARE YOU DOING, KID!? WHY DID YOU KISS ME!?"

"Oooh. Maybe he loves you too, Ner-Ner…..I do now too, since you did eat with us."

"DON'T BUTT IN, DAPHNE! DO YOU REALIZE WHAT JUST HAPPENED!? I CAN'T HAVE KIDS KISSING MY LIPS LIKE THAT!" She turned her tear-soaked eyes back to him, looking at him disdainfully, but for every reason of the world, it only made her look lovably adorable. "YOU LITTLE STUPID LITTLE THING! I THOUGHT I TOLD YOU TO BEHAVE! SO WHY DID YOU JUST….ARGH!" She turned away from him, huffing and crossing her arms, "I HATE YOU NOW! I DON'T WANNA LOOK AT YOU ANYMORE!"

He smiled cheekily, enjoying how a grown woman like her could be so cute.

|||| « ҉ » ||||

So far, things went better than anyone could ever expect. But honestly, could she and the rest expect any less from somebody that Souls naturally draw themselves to? He completely had Wrath wrapped in his hand with Love, and tamed Gluttony with Charity.

She'd love to see the boy tame Greed, though that is a far complex feat for anyone, even for him. The woman's cunning and twice more dangerous than any other Witch here, even if inferior in terms of power. And being a Soul only added to that.

But that's a faraway concern for the moment. She should hustle things for a bit. This illusion isn't going to last, after all.

"…..Then after that, when the baby scorpion woke up and made cute li'l noises as it scuttled to mommy me, Flugel cut off its horn and named her Shaula….. I think it's a nice name. I didn't name the three since I died at that time, but I think I still remember the names he had for them. I think he called the whale Moby—"

"Enjoying yourself, Dear Sister….?" Sally inquired rhetorically, needing no answer for its already in sight.

Daphne is clearly a lot more emotive than before, more awake compared to her easygoing and drowsy state, less concerned with filling her belly and more into something else not food-related. Something not even the Witches could manage. So much that she didn't even notice the smell of the Smoky Bull despite her proximity, fully absorbed in the conversation. Not even her vapors meant to momentarily halt her hunger pangs reached such a change. But that's expected of the boy, loved by all Souls.

Or maybe that's because Gluttony's been fed….

Is she overestimating the boy, Sally wonders.

"Ah, Lily. You came….Come eat with us. Baby's got pizza served. It's got meat, pineapples, mushrooms, peppers, and a lot of cheeeesemmmmngammngghanaangmmmm…."

Turning away from Daphne as she sloppily devoured the circular meal lying on the grass, she faced the boy who had carefully swiped a slice near Daphne's mouth and held it out to Sally, wanting her to have a taste of it.

She sighed. Such kindness, a diamond-rare quality of character that is unfortunately held back from showing thanks to the people and the Church that existed in a Hellhole that was Pandemonium. Someone like her doesn't deserve it, especially when she has forsaken her own Virtue.

"I'm sorry, dear, but I've had my fill…." She leaned down, took the slice off his hand and moved it to his mouth, which he took a large bite on. She held still, waiting for him to swallow and take another bite. "I'm done with eating…..It's better I do something worthwhile as a Soul doomed to the Pit while I still can…"

He looked at her with an unreadable gaze, twinges of understanding and awe crossing them before he looked down on the slice, swallowing his bite and taking it off her hand before taking another big chomp.

Sally straightened her posture, taking a small suck of her pipe before speaking, the green vapors drifting away from the boy's proximity. "I'd love to watch you interact some more with my dear elder sister, but I'm afraid she's had her turn long enough….."

The drifting green smoke quickly swooped in under the boy's rear, lifting him up from the grass and bringing him to her free arm, nestled on the crook before the vapors disappeared. She turned a stern look she thought she was no longer capable of to the boy's green orbs staring up to her, "And you should control your impulses of charity…." She began walking to the direction where the Witch of Greed was waiting. How she loathed the meeting. Any other Sin intercepting her path is welcome, if it meant delaying it. "There would not have been any issue if your mana doesn't suffer from it…"

The boy frowned at her, almost venomously.

She held down the instinct to glare back at him, keeping her face mature and all-knowing, just like an adult should. "Trust me….the trouble is not worth it…."

Very quickly, that seething glare of green disappeared under one eye blink, and he cooperatively leaned against her shoulder.

Thank goodness for the illusion he is under, otherwise he would not be so compliant.

She sighed, dreading the inevitable. She may have just saved Viandegroc from suffering a mana collapse while he's still fighting that intestine-crazed maniac of a woman in the repeated timeline, but that didn't mean they are making this any easier for the boy, trapped under the illusion that he is indeed dead, having exploded the Soul Gem and now on his way to see Mother, assuming this place was Limbo.

He's not questioning why some of the Seven Witches are here, not even questioning why a Supreme Sin from Pandemonium are sharing the same space as them. His normal self would have at least questioned how he got from a destroyed part of the Slums to a serene, grassy field, or how he became a child—he's completely open to it all. Because why would he? He's dead. These things are too trivial compared to being free of being a mortal.

She was glad for the Smoky Bull Pipe. Her feelings would have shown itself on her face. She's stressed and afraid of it all. The boy should have died there. Sally should have been free alongside the other Sins….

If it weren't for that damn bitch….

She took another pull of her pipe, trying not to think about the veil of black or how she looked exactly like that half-elven girl, Emilia. As she released the green smoke, her nerves relaxed and her naked body, shrouded in the same green cloud, became a bit more sensitive, feeling every thread on the boy's robes on her chest and arm.

"Hey, it's Sally! Hi! Welcome back!"

The boy in her arm looked at the voice, and he beheld the tan-skinned girl brimming with sweet youthful innocence, cheeks apple-red as she waved her arms at him and Sally in greetings. He reciprocated the action with a light wave.

Sally only sneered. She did want any Witch to intercept her, but to be her of all people…..

"Hello again, Typhon…." She maintained a firm stare on Pride, making sure she doesn't pull anything stupid with her Authority and will incapacitate her the sooner she does. "This is our prison master. The caretaker of our Souls, in a loose way of putting it….."

"Oh, it's Murdol." The boy flinched at his name being butchered, likely having never received such a form of treatment aside from curses and roars from terrified and moronic humans. "Can you lower him down? I wanna know if he's a baddie or not."

She held down the urge to shroud the boy protectively with her vapors, known to stop even a mountain from falling on her head. If she did, the boy would immediately realize the implications. There's no struggle in the Afterlife. She must maintain the illusion until Viandegroc comes back.

"My words are finale, dear." Hardening her voice full of honey and allure, keeping the boy clutched to her chest, she stared down the Witch of Pride while the lip of her pipe is close to her own, "You are not to judge him. Your Mother and I talked about this, and she granted me the permission to stop you."

"But how are we gonna know if he's a bad guy or not? It'll be quick. I'm just gonna pull his arm and see if it hurts. That's it."

At this point, Sally seethed through her teeth, the green smoke hissing out like a screaming teapot, now forming a giant cloud behind her.

The Demon of Gluttony took her place, drooling incessantly from the mouth and finding her favorite prey in front of her. A child, young and fresh, innocent and pure. A delightful feast after a little tasting.

Her lips stretching wide, her teeth becoming numerous and needle thin inside her mouth. Her tongue split into three while the perception of her eyesight sharpened, perceiving many colors and able to see wider than front-facing eyes could ever manage. Her bloody red hair came alive, every single strand writhing and looking for things to grasp or coiling together to become larger.

In the face of the monster every parent of a child feared, Typhon was not in the least intimidated, merely staring blankly at her and more than half of her attention aimed at the boy. "Typhon." Sally's voice maintained its icy tone, all allure and honey gone. "Do not force my hand. I may have vowed to never eat again, but I still have my urges. Someone like you will satisfy me well—"

She fell silent, a small hand grabbing her throat. It wasn't firm enough to silence her vocal cords nor cut off her oxygen supply, but it was enough to make her hold still.

Sally expected to see the boy glaring at her when she looked down on him, but he wasn't paying attention to her at all. He's staring at Typhon, his right hand gripping her throat, and he lifted himself up with his free hand from the crook of her arm and slipped down to the grass, which ended in him falling on his rear, still incapable of using his legs.

"Oh!" Typhon exclaimed in surprise, quickly running over and taking his hands, "Murdol, are you okay?"

Spears. Knives. Swords. Axes. Halberds. Rocks. Demons. Teeth. Forks. Stakes. Fence spikes.

Every single one made out of nothing but vapor, solid as their real counterpart, but sharper than the thinnest blade and harder than anything to ever exist, and they are all aimed at Pride, holding one of the very last places Sally wanted her to.

"Does it hurt anywhere? Hmm?" One hand gripping the boy's own, her other rubbed his back comfortingly, as if it was going to do anything with his aching rear. "It's okay. The pain won't last. Typhon will make it go away." Typhon turned her big red eyes to Sally, and that cherubic face warped into an image of malice, one that should never be found on a child's face. "Sally, why didn't you help him? He fell and he's hurting. And you just stood there. Are you being bad again? Do you want me to judge you again?"

"I don't care what you do to me." Sally replied plainly, now devoid of all qualities that made everyone mistake her for Lust upon first laying eyes on her, from voice to form, reduced to a creature that stood on all fours, hovered over by a living green cloud, and would bite anything made out of flesh or younger than a decade. "I have been punished for my sins before I even met you, Typhon. What you've done to me and the pain that came with it is nothing compared to that. Hurt him, however, and you will know what it means to be a child in my presence."

"I won't hurt him, Sally. And you just said something like you actually care about him, even though you did nothing when he fell. Are you a liar as well, Sally? Are you really a baddie?"

This brat…..

"I have just about enough of you—"

The next thing she knew, she was sent to the sky at the highest point before breaching into the cosmos and fell back down at rocketing speeds, feeling all of her bones shattering upon impact under a 5 feet deep hole.

|||| « ҉ » ||||

After watching Sally crash in a large cloud of dust from a far distance and felt the quake that came with it all the way to his location, he quickly saw the white missile that was likely Minerva fall down from the sky like a meteor and crash on the same place, likely to heal her. Aside from the rising cloud of dust, he also saw hearts upon landing, the shockwave reaching all the way to him as well, fluttering his robes.

He was baffled at the sight of it, more than the unexpected success of using a blast of wind that belonged to an Undead Dragon's flapping wings to send the nigh-invincible Gluttony flying.

It was likely because of the position of the green smoke. It may be indestructible but she wasn't, and it happened to be situated behind her, leaving her exposed to the sudden gust of wind. Even if she was covered in it, it surely didn't save her from the backdraft he caused in her cave, did it?

"Murdol." He turned his attention back to Typhon, offering both her hands to him. "Can you get up?"

He held both her hands, and proceeded to endure the suffering of an infant trying to stand for the first time, suddenly losing strength on his knees or angling his ankles the wrong way among other complications. Thankfully, Typhon was a supportive girl, offering helpful advice and doing all she can to keep him motivated, almost something a big sister would do.

"Okay, let's do it again." She distanced herself a little from him, keeping their fingers interlocked and never letting go to make sure she can catch him in case he falls. "Count with me. One." Right foot took one step forward, Typhon's left foot took one step back. "Two." Left foot took one step forward, Typhon's right foot took one step back, "Three. Four. Five. Six. Seven. Eight. Nine. Ten. Yay! You got it!"

Typhon jumped up and down in her celebration, and he loathed that he couldn't do the same yet, simply huffing his breath in laughter.

To be walking again, without the need of skeletal constructs to get him somewhere from where he's standing….it truly took him back to his youth, where he was diligent and did everything, learning everything to become a good Priest of the Serpent, to be worthy of his Mother's legacy, and to impress Lady Sabarra when he passes the Blood Trial.

And he remembered the ultimate crime…

…..The one thing that led to him being legless.

His smile fell, and that's when Typhon spoke again, "Now that you can walk, Typhon can finally ask you." She drew herself close to him, keeping their hands clasped together. "Murdol, are you a baddie?"

He said nothing.

"Are you a baddie?" She repeated after a long silence, barely noticing his apprehension, "Are you an evildoer? A bad person? Are you a bad person, Murdol?"

His gaze fell down, incapable of meeting the expectant red gaze that rested inside those big eyes.

"Aw, are you too shy to talk? That's okay. I can check it even if you don't say anything."

One tug, and he felt a sudden release on both his sides, as if there were weights that had hung on his shoulders since waking up, and they have just been untethered from him.

And there came…..

…Pain.

His throat croaked, and he fell to his knees. His eyes ran red, unable to hold his tears in from the agony that was running on his shoulder joints and entire chest, as if there were small pieces of sharp metal inside him, constantly flying all over and shredding his organs. He's trying to grab and claw at his chest, to at least try to rip out whatever was inside, but there were no robed appendages attending to it. He could feel his arms holding—no, passing through his chest, and he felt nothing. He saw nothing.

His arms are gone. Typhon took them from him.

"So it hurts, doesn't it? That's because you did something bad, Murdol. You shouldn't do bad things. This wouldn't have hurt if you were a good person."

A 'good person'…..

Ha. Yes, that's right. He never was. He never once considered himself as kind. Even if he held a charitable heart or committed acts of goodwill that do not match the pattern of his behavior, that wouldn't mean anything if all he's done is hate others and hurt them in the end. Even if they had wronged him and his kind first, who is he to judge when he had shamed his entire kind before he even left? Who does he think he is, demanding pity and venting his self-hatred on humans?

"Blunders will become fetters that never unbounds."

He felt his legs became brittle, the sound of shattering glass piercing through his eardrums, and he fell on his stomach and hit his head, falling to the same crumbling fate under his own weight. Before he realized it, all of him is now reduced to a million pieces on the grass, his eyes no longer sharing the same view and looking in different directions. His cognitions began failing, and maintaining a single line of thought steadily became impossible, except for the unbearable guilt he felt, one that stung more than the intensifying pain that came from his shattered state.

"So you feel guilty about it, that's good. That's very good. That means you're sorry and want to do better." Amidst all this excruciating pain—pain that he truly deserved, he felt a hand pat what remained of his head, and he felt violated by it. Not because it wasn't welcome, but because it was undeserved. Why must anyone sympathize him? What he did was not an accident. It was all intentional, and he's guilty of it. He must be held accountable for that.

"But it doesn't look like it hurts that much. Look at you. You aren't screaming. You're just crying. That means you only did something a little bad. Don't feel down about that, Murdol. You can still be a good boy."

He wanted to shake his head, to deny such hopes she had for him. He's dead. How can he possibly repent for what he's done now? It's too late. Even if what happened back then could have been avoided, what's done is already done. He killed a fellow wyrmm before he could realize it. He never once properly answered for what he did. All he did was to shallowly perform duties that were not yet his own, as if to find the forgiveness he didn't deserve in doing them.

Silencing all the Supreme Sins and glorifying the name of the Order of the Serpent in the eyes of the humans, are all that even enough? Enough to pay penance for what he did? To answer for the crime of taking away someone's child?

He wouldn't think so, even if Viandegroc had succumbed to the Corruption of Lust that day. The Order of the Serpent would have handled it better than him, and he royally fucked it up.

"Typhon, my dear, you must step back." A silky smooth voice advised.

"Papa?"

"Lady Minerva is coming, and I suggest you quickly stand behind me before the impact sends you flying."

He heard the sound barrier being broken, coming from the sky, most likely. Right afterwards, Minerva's supersonic yells erupted and repaired his ears before the rest of him is restored under the might of a million punches.

|||| « ҉ » ||||

Bristling with irritation, Sally tried her best to remain calm the sooner she saw them in the distance, the boy crying on Typhon's shoulder, the latter embracing him lovingly and rocking him back and forth in her lap, humming a soothing song. At this point, she's not sure who to hit with the back of her hand and which retaliation would be the most worth it.

Her eye twitched when she saw the slightest shade of black that swooped in to her side in a millisecond, and followed that familiar silky smooth voice, reverberating inside a beak mask, "Its best we leave them be and spare you another set of broken bones."

Her hair lashed out ferociously at the direction of the sound, a sharp crack echoing out into the distance and she felt the impact of hitting a boulder vibrate through her entire skull, falling to sever it in half like she usually would in her living life. Her face didn't even twitch.

"Satisfied?" William asked, once again never bothered by the sudden act of violence, fully genuine in wanting to know if being her punching bag for a second had eased her nerves, even if a little.

"You should know….." Her usual diction glazed with honey and allure returned, taking a small puff of smoke. "Being alive again is more repulsive than I thought….."

"The Master would appreciate your maturity from your Sin."

She huffed roughly, her bare breasts bouncing under the green shroud on her chest. The vapors came out of her mouth in the size of a basketball and morphed into the face of the Demon of Gluttony, glaring at its human-like counterpart before it was swept away by the wind.

"Maturity is pointless….." It's not like they are going to live again after every death like the boy, "And I don't want to be here any longer than I have to…..the hunger pangs still sting in this body and I can't stand a moment of it….."

"It isn't a crime to indulge with the Virtue of Abstinence, Madam."

"I once practiced self-control, and I became a fuck toy in the end….."

"You were young back then, no one could blame you for the downfall you suffered."

She sneered, breaking the visage of devouring beauty momentarily. First her parents died suddenly, then the responsibility of the Netheridge Family is shoved on her 12 year old shoulders, then she was cornered by her betrothed, and finally lost her mind to her hunger.

She doesn't want to remember a single bit of it. A Hellhole like Pandemonium can go back to its Primordial Days.

"Where…." Her voice hardened, and quickly returned to its usual one, not wanting to go back, "…is Viandegroc?"

"At the moment, he is seconds away from being repeatedly stabbed in the abdomen by Elsa. There were a few complications due to the Master draining the mana from the vessel, leaving Rom fatally bleeding but thankfully alive. Everything turned out fine."

She stared at his beaked face with expertly veiled exasperation, half-lidded eyes looking back at her own reflection in his round lenses, staring deeply into the red orbs within, "We've been here for a whole day and it's not even midnight outside…..?" She sighed, wisps of the vapors pouring out of her full lips. She took another pull. "I wonder how Moman feels….."

"Angered, Madam."

She wasn't expecting an answer. Now she's annoyed, and apprehensive. She doesn't even want to think about it, and now she is. The last thing anyone needed is knowing that the boy's Mother is living up to her Sin. If she can ruin an entire Order in vengeance of her murdered husband, she could only imagine what's going to happen when she meets that bitch, especially when she's been denied her precious reunion with her only child…..

Sally watched as Typhon wiped the boy's tears and took him by the hand, leading him to somewhere, likely to her 'Mama', Sloth.

Sloth…

Sally scoffed. How ironic. For someone who upheld his virtue until the end, it's somehow amazing that he can still fall under the Sin in the most unique way possible without him even realizing.

"William….."

"Yes, Madam?"

"What are the odds of the 7 Supreme Sins gathered in one place…..?"

"Nil. We would kill each other, and Sloth would never turn up."

Greed would be too proud to acknowledge them, Wrath would sullenly glare and explode at anyone that interacted with her, Lust would shamelessly exhibit the immense power he had at everyone, Pride would begin acting like anyone's servant to the point of annoyance, Envy would seethe for being somewhere outside his family, Sloth would not be present, and Gluttony herself would only think about the things she'll do to them before eating them.

A conceivable catastrophe worthy of the Rapture.

Such is the world of Pandemonium's worst evils. Even the worst of humans have a sense of unity and likeness in their equals compared to them. It took being dead for any of them to be any different.

Who knows if the Witches suffered the same aftermath upon their passing?

"Then what are the odds of the 7 Supreme Sins meeting the 7 Witches of Sin….?"

William was silent, still as a statue.

And that was all the answer she needed. Sally huffed out her green vapors, a seductive but wicked smile morphing on her lips.

|||| « ҉ » ||||

"Mommy, look! I got a friend! His name's Murdol!"

He was in a trance as he beheld the lounging woman, far larger than an average human, his attention drawn more to the extremely long strands of magenta that stretched out for nearly 5 meters long past her feet.

A single tired and lifeless magenta eye regarded him silently, but the little smile adorning her attractive face managed to light up against the gloominess she was emanating since laying his eyes on her.

"So this is the boy everyone's been talking about—haa."

"Mommy, you look kinda happy." Typhon noted, tilting her head.

"I don't know what you're talking about—haa. I don't know how I feel right now. It's too tiring to think about it—huu." She sounds so…finished with everything that exists, as if she doesn't want to do anything for the rest of her life. "It's just that I feel a kind of kinship in him—haa."

"Kinship? Oh! You mean like he's your little brother?"

He felt unsettled at this woman being his elder sister. She's nowhere fit to be such a person. A sibling would be like a second half to him. But in regards to her…..he felt a warmer and comforting reception, drawn to it as if he was meant for her.

"No…" The light in her magenta eye sharpened, looking at him with a bit more energy compared to before, inquisition and discovery clear. "….something closer than that….."

She didn't sigh afterwards, and that only made him even more drawn to her.

Parting his interlocked grip on Typhon's fingers, he fell to his knees and shuffled closer to the lounging woman, his right hand conspicuously reaching for her left one, who responded the same way by angling it to receive him, fingers lamely trying to spread apart.

As he slipped his digits into the gaps, being dwarfed by her larger hand and feeling the chilling temperature of her skin, his heart burned hotly, so did his eyes, threatening to cry.

This sensation….was tormenting. It felt like his hand belonged there, meant to hold it, and he should have done so a long time ago. This hand should have held his cheek or patted his head whenever he's in need of it in times of comfort or accomplishment. This hand should have struck him with a backhand for his crime. It should have held his when he was blinded by his diligence, to guide him away from the act. A knot formed on his throat, and the knife of the betrayer's guilt slowly sunk its way to his heart.

He had a Mother, the one woman in the world he loved and revered more than anyone, more than Lady Sabarra. He was held by her, kissed by her, and loved by her once, and it was at a time when he couldn't fathom the weight of every gesture she gave him. He was barely a week old, and he lost his father upon his first breath.

The Corruption of Wrath made a future of abuse and self-righteous love inevitable, taking away his privilege to being blessed by a loving mother that was revered by their kind and treasured him more than anything, so she took her own life in a pyre to spare him from that.

The last touch he felt of his Mother….was her left ear. It was within his reach when she kissed him one last time. His grip was condemningly tiny and feeble to keep her from going, so she easily slipped away, her tears of blood landing on his palm as she turned away and walked into the fire.

Without warning, he pounced on this large woman, rolling her from her side to her back, drawing a listless sigh instead of a grunt, burying his face to her chest and wrapping his free hand around her neck, his other never letting go of their interlocked grip.

This woman whose name he doesn't know isn't his Mother. He shouldn't project her good image on to her, she doesn't even come close to resembling her. She's nothing compared to Mother…..

But his Link…..the Link that longed for anyone to be connected with, to signify that he isn't the only one of his bloodline anymore, to assure him that he wasn't alone in the Living World that hates him….

Mother is nothing more than another Skeleton. She may be capable of her greatest feats, able to recall the Souls of the subjugated Apocalypse Legion, and even wield her sickles the same way they have when she still breathed life—a perfect emulation of the revered Queen of Ivory….. she was nothing more than bones, steel, and a trapped Soul. Bloodless. Heartless. Reduced to a single emotion. Bound to a Sin.

That was not his Mother.

To finally have that connection, to find it in the hands of someone that was 'alive', in a time when he is long dead, especially when he's been longing to see his Mother anywhere…..

He felt a free arm slowly glide across his back, limp and lifeless, conveying the willingness to embrace him, bypassing the encumbering and life-eating Sloth…..

The final nail in the coffin, a pair of full lips nipping the top of his head. The weakest kiss he has ever felt.

He doesn't care anymore.

He released her left hand and raised his face from her chest, raising his level up to meet her own and kissed the corner of her lips with hungry vigor, parting with a loud pop before hugging her entire head, threatening to crush it with the strongest grip he could ever muster. Her only response was to sigh and wrap her free arm around him, listless like always and not bothering to tighten the embrace.

He felt horrible for betraying his Mother, but at the same time, he found the reprieve he had expected in the Afterlife. And that was all that mattered.

He never noticed his right hand conspicuously reaching for her left ear, and he never let go.

|||| « ҉ » ||||

The Matron held her face, the tears of red silently flowing down her face while some leaked through the gaps of her thin fingers and went down her white arm. Nothing but heartbreak filled her mind, feeling like her Soul is wilting away in the face of these circumstances.

Echidna merely smiled in satisfaction at the result, her tea held daintily in her hands and felt no lick of pity. In the wake of the newly arriving Sins from a world beyond the Great Waterfall, a wealth of knowledge had presented themselves like gifts. Though she was initially opposed to their presence, that was merely an attempt of a façade. She welcomed them all wholeheartedly, though Sekhmet saw through it all. She simply granted the Witches leeway to deal with their visitors. It would make the most delectable outcomes to take place.

And they did not disappoint.

Pride greeted Typhon like a daughter, Gluttony and Daphne found common ground in their everlasting hunger, Lust and Carmilla held each other in inquisitive wonder, Wrath and Minerva acknowledged each other as sisters, and lastly, Sloth and the boy became one as family.

As for herself and Greed….it was still interesting. Though she somehow ended up angering him into a fit of rage because of her calculating mannerisms meant to reflect a 'normal' person and ends up being perceived as an 'abominable lie', the interactions he'll make with the other Witches will be a sight to see.

He may be predictable, but in the mind of the Witch of Greed, no one is boring.

There's still the Supreme Sin of Envy, and it's unlikely for him to ever meet his Witch Counterpart. And hopefully, that encounter never happens. Echidna won't stand every single second of it.

In spite of all that, nothing more interesting has ever occurred more than the arrival of the boy. In a matter of hours, he managed to seduce four of the Witches without even doing anything significant. Minerva became protective of him, Daphne fell in love with him, Typhon found a little brother in him, and Sekhmet saw a son in him. Accomplished by either appealing to their interests or doing what he felt natural.

His state of mind is warped as well, still under the illusion of being dead and now residing in Limbo, awaiting the judgment of his Dragon Deity in the cosmos. His Living counterpart wouldn't be so flighty or easygoing, so friendly to anyone and doing good things to them for no reason. He'd be keeping himself in a defensive mindset in every encounter and holding contempt at anyone receiving the end of his gaze. Take away all of his troubles, responsibilities, and the need to survive, he becomes this. A boy that has not grown up since his blunder in the Underground City.

His Mother is equally interesting. Here is one of the revered champions of the Order of Necromagi beyond the Great Waterfall, honorably bestowed the title of the Queen of Ivory for achieving a scale of expertise in Bone Magic that only their Immortal Matriarch can match.

Her and the boy were fated to meet again upon his passing, then that bitch did something unthinkable to their eyes and denied it from happening. Now they can never ever meet, in the fear of their reunion being the catalyst of his Corruption's awakening.

Wrath, the death of a husband.

Greed, the loss of his family bloodline.

Gluttony, betrayal by the one person she trusted.

Pride, lost his beneficiaries to the ones he refused to help.

Envy, abandoned by his blood family.

Lust and Sloth? They were unique. One was awakened without an external traumatic stimuli, the other had already went through it….and still did not succumb to the Corruption, remaining Diligent until the day he died and beyond.

Now the Matron will have to endure the loneliness of being separated from her son once again, with reasons practically similar to the first time. Not only that, the other Witches have now taken her place in many ways. The role of loving him, spoiling him, disciplining him, protecting him—they took it all, and they might possibly take even more in time. Even the Supreme Sins have fulfilling roles for the boy.

Only the boy's Mother is left with nothing. She will do nothing except watch and endure the heartbreak, the indignity, and the unfairness of it all. She was his Mother, and she can't do anything for him nor can she receive anything from him. And she's resigned to that, knowing that it's for her child's sake.

The things a Mother would go through for their child…..it's truly the most beautiful thing Echidna has ever seen.

Echidna turned her eyes to the Witch that's been beside the white woman for a while now.

Minerva simply stood and remained still, her hand placed on the shoulder of her 'sister' and wearing nothing but sympathy on her face, saying nothing but hoping that the presence of people who understood her pain can at least alleviate the torment.

Echidna turned her eyes to the Supreme Sin stood on her other side, having never left her alone since her arrival.

Bart stood by her free side, looking down, crossing his arms and silently weeping in sympathy, hoping that a helping hand to help her with anything can at least bring a semblance of comfort. For someone that had Envied having a family and achieved it through twisted means, he would expectantly be the one to be the most affected to her plight.

This company of newcomers are truly a wealth of knowledge. Every single one has a story to tell, and one can see it just by their appearance and actions. They were valuable to her, and she would do anything to make sure they can satiate her unending Greed.

Speaking of Greed, it seems her 'brother' has returned to the Castle of Dreams, accompanied by Viandegroc.

Minerva and Bart felt their arrival as well, turning their heads to a specific direction. The Matron didn't move an inch, still as a statue except for her robes and hair flying against the wind and the tears continued flowing.

After a few minutes, the giant of a man with a lion-like face came into view from a hill, his every step a quaking stomp and sending gust after gust of wind as he swung the giant Battle Axe in his hand back and forth, followed by the young Necromagus with gliding steps, his hands folding behind his back and glaring into space.

At a certain distance, Lucifer stood still and planted his Axe head to the ground, resting both hands on the pommel. Viandegroc walked passed him and approached the Matron silently, his stoic face melting into a forlorn mien.

Bart stepped aside, and Lust leaned in to whisper to her ear. They weren't words, instead a set of clicks and lip shapes, subtle and covert, capable of preventing others from overhearing it better than just whispering.

Despite being covered by her hand, Echidna could see her brow creasing and began to move after hours of immobility, rising up from the chair and moving to embrace her junior, kneeling down to allow her face smeared with red tears to be hidden on the man's white hair. Viandegroc, Minerva, and Bart moved to offer their consolations, rubbing her back or hugging her from behind.

Echidna smiled, set her tea down, and stood up as well. They are truly wonderful.

And she waited.

Slowly, but surely, the Matron parted her embrace and wiped her tears with the sleeves of her robes, standing up to full height, dwarfing every single person in the Castle of Dreams except Sally, William, Lucifer, and partially Sekhmet.

Viandegroc grabbed Minerva's arm and pulled her away, "H-hey…." Her resistance is weak, and she quickly complied. Bart followed close behind, exhuming the air of nobility that indicated his well-off origins, befitting the clothes of fine silk and shining with bright colors he wore.

Lucifer remained where he stood, staring at her firmly and calculatingly, heavily contrasting the boisterous fire and arrogance he wore initially on their first meetings. A new discovery.

Echidna turned her eyes to the Matron, gliding across the grass as she approached the Witch of Greed and regarded her with expertly-veiled dislike in her green orbs. A gaze that might as well be loving compared to the look she'll give when that bitch comes.

"Now, Matron, what do you say?" Politely, she asked the Queen of Ivory.

Her silky silver hair fluttered against the wind, and suddenly, they became defiant, fluttering under her will, as if they were submerged underwater. The black of her robes became even darker, seeming to absorb all light and appearing to be flat on the setting of green grass. Her green gaze brightened, glowing, and the cloudless sky above became blotted with black, rendering the grasslands dim with shadow.

They were not clouds.

Echidna is fully aware of it, and she beheld everything with delight, relishing in the change and new influx of knowledge, of what might happen in the time when the Matron decides to exhibit power.

And she did not disappoint.

For the first time, she spoke, "Care-give the Witchessss and Sinsss…. My sssson…shall be in Greed'ssss handsssss….."

The Witch of Greed nodded, "We will do our best to grant him reprieve in the Castle of Dreams so he can be free of his responsibilities and be safe from all troubles so long as he's here."

In exchange, Echidna can freely interact with the boy, to exchange knowledge without inhibition and even leave an influence on him, whether physical or otherwise. Consent will be respected at all times.

In the wake that he loses the will to live, and it was because of a Witch's actions, regardless of who it is, including that bitch, the Witch of Envy…

The Matron's hidden glare is now removed of its veil, a powerful crease forming on her face and warping the mien of the Queen of Ivory into something that befitted the Supreme Sin of Wrath, her floating hair resembling the sway and writhes of boneless limbs, every single strand as impossibly sharp as the color of the metal they resemble.

"Breaker of live-will…..beware….."

The fury of every Supreme Sins will eradicate the Castle of Dreams along with every Witch. Lucifer had the power to break the earth asunder with a single swing of his axe. Viandegroc can muddle everything to the brim with thorns of ivory. The Matron can create entire worlds made out of ivory and rain them down from the sky. William knows every sorcery and art of destruction possible to destroy the world. Bartholomew can conjure an army of the Dead, made out of every long dead Sword Saint that ever lived since Reid Astrea. As for Selena? She equaled Sekhmet's might. The vapors of the Smoky Bull are as indestructible as the Authority of Sloth is unstoppable.

Echidna once measured that Wrath and Gluttony were equal in terms of destructive power, but when one factor is considered, it's clear that the latter woman is above everyone else.

She doesn't need mana.

"I'll be careful, Matron." Echidna promised.

With that, Lucifer left his axe on the spot and walked away alongside the Matron.

|||| « ҉ » ||||

"What is it you see, sister?" Viandegroc asked, not looking away.

"W-what? Oh….uh…..love. I see love." Carmilla stuttered, both her hands clutched in front of her chest.

Emurdol lied his head on Sloth's arm, joined by Pride who slept behind him and hugged his chest, drooling as they dozed under a cloudy sky. Sekhmet listlessly ran her index finger on the boy's silver head, barely touching the scalp past the strands of white.

Though it's a good sight, it's also making him sick. His real Mother should be doing that, and with much better technique. Damn the Witch of Envy.

He asked, turning to face his counterpart, "Have you done anything with Mother's depression?"

"N-nothing."

He sharpened his gaze, green eyes glowing.

Carmilla panicked, "I-I swear! I truly did nothing! You even s-said that she'll k-kill me for it!"

"After knowing your background, I couldn't be any more careful." He turned to face the three again, "You don't care about love anymore, but you would admire people's love for each other instead. You'd make sure to let Mother know that she is indeed loved."

"Y-yes." She lifted up her scarf to hide her mouth, "S-she loves her son v-very much. It's not fair for her to not receive love in turn….." Her sentence seemed to have gained more clarity than ever at the end.

"No matter if your intentions are good, Sister, Mother would never accept it if it does not come from Brother's mouth." He turned his gaze to the black and white Witch approaching the boy, his sleeping companions suddenly disappearing. It's his cue then. It has been 6 hours since their slumber. "It doesn't mean I do not agree with you. Be patient. When the conditions are right, do as you will. Mother will be receptive by then."

"Mm." Carmilla nodded.

"For now, leave her be." He held down the urge to sneer. It was disgusting to be saying such words, circumstances aside, "We'll call you when we need you."

With that, he began walking down the hill, watching as Emurdol awoke from his sleep and now sat up, facing the Witch of Greed.

So far, the woman's only extending her greetings, identifying herself as an Evil Magician and that her name is Echidna, the Witch of Greed.

The others were apprehensive of Emurdol meeting this woman, but thanks to the deal, they won't have to be so cautious about it. Greed is obligated to be civil, and she must earn his consent before she must do something direct.

Echidna lowered down slightly to his level, bending her knees and placing her hands on them. She asked if she may exchange the way his people greet each other with him. Emurdol stared for a few seconds, pondering over the decision before deciding to allow it, extending a right hand towards her with fingers splayed apart, his mana rolling along his digits.

The Witch reached forward, her own mana visibly glowing at her palm, and contact is met, fingers interlocked. Shaking it twice, they parted and Echidna wished for a good relationship to grow between them before walking away.

He clicked his tongue. She's already planning something, he knows it. Knowing the mind of Madness from being in the company of the most twisted people in Pandemonium goes far when it comes to identifying motives.

He approached the boy, and he steeled himself when the presence of another one of his kind made Emurdol's head turn his way. Green eyes widened, and they began welling up in tears the sooner he recognized the face Viandegroc had.

And his back met the ground faster than he could notice how the boy had got up from the ground and had already reached him in speeds that made him blur. The impact of his tackle hug blew out his oxygen, and he could feel a few broken ribs…..

"….p-w:d…."

The native language of their people, the one that even the Dead respond to….

"P-w:d….! P-w:d! P-w:d! P-w:d, V-dn:gr! P-w:d, V-dn:gr! P-w:d, V-dn:gr!"

The implications were clear, and Viandegroc felt his heart tear itself apart for what he's about to do.

He shook his head, wrapping his arms around him, as tightly as he can, regardless if his ribs scream at him for it, "Sshh. Sshh. Don't apologize."

"D:t m p-w:d k! G:pt-y k n:k, V-dn:gr!"

"That was a long time ago, Brother." He rubbed the back of his head, and the sky became tinged red, "I don't hold a grudge so let it go. We both didn't know any better….I'm to blame as well so please…stop it. Stop saying sorry…."

He realized it now. He was crying.

….

….….

….….….…..He can't do this. It's not possible. There's no way he could fathom doing anything like this. He doesn't want to hurt him. Of all the times, why now? Why should this be happening? What is this weakness? Why is he faltering? He doesn't like it. Someone take it away. Someone take his place…..anyone…..

"Damn it….!" With a grunt, he forced himself to sit up without trying to dislodge Emurdol off him. His ribs screamed for mercy in the process, and his tears mixed in with pain alongside the anguish. He pushed the boy slightly back and moved his forearm straight to his eyes the sooner he could, letting him cry there instead.

He can't let Emurdol see it, his tears. It would only make things worse and increase his Brother's torment.

Placing his other hand on the back of the boy's head, he kept him facing down and never up, making sure he doesn't see it.

Holding him like that for a short while, listening to his sniffles and strained wails, trying to harden his heart from being affected so deeply by it, Viandegroc managed to gather enough composure and steeled himself, deciding to let it out, "Brother…..Brother…."

His grip moved to the back of the boy's robes, and he crumpled it, the weight of his actions now beginning to weigh down on his heart. He grit his teeth harder, feeling like they were about to break under the pressure.

Damn it! Damn it all!

Why does it have to be him and not someone else….!? His Mother would have done a better job!

Damn it all to hell!

"….you're not dead…."

The boy's wails fell silent, still as a statue, and any semblance of life disappeared from him. His hand felt like it was gripped by a stone statue.

Viandegroc's grip on his robes tightened, the material stretching audibly.

"….you didn't die….." He made sure no emotion showed from his voice as well, otherwise he'd never be able to convince him of the 'other' truth. Emurdol is never fooled, even if he wasn't looking at the person's face. If Viandegroc had any solace, it's that he's not lying. "…..you passed out from the shock and the blood loss…the half-elf managed to stabilize you…..and now she's taking you to her home…."

He gulped, making sure it wasn't noticed or heard in this sudden silence of the Castle of Dreams.

"The Soul Gem…..it's still intact….we're….we're still here….with you….our emancipation…is still yet to come….."

He softened his grip on his robes, now rubbing his back, his voice lifting up and hoping it can do the same for the boy's mental state as well, "It's okay. I can wait. We all can wait. Didn't you say we are all going home together? What's a lifetime if it means we can all depart alongside you in the end? Let us watch you live a little more, show us how you'll find happiness in a world that doesn't hate our kind."

They held themselves like that, for a long number of minutes. Viandegroc wasn't sure how long he's been still like a statue, awaiting the response he was looking for….what sort of response is he expecting from his Brother…..?

Emurdol moved.

He rubbed his eyes on Viandegroc's sleeves before moving back. Sat up straight, he wiped his face a little more with his own sleeves, clearing the red and the mess.

Viandegroc cleared his tears before the boy looked up, and he beheld the exhausted look on his Brother's face, the green light in his bloodshot eyes dim but not gone, the illusion of death disappearing from his orbs and his rationality returned to them like a fire.

Viandegroc felt his hopes rise behind his neutral visage. The boy didn't give up. He's willing to go on. He did it.

There's still a chance.

He watched as Emurdol took in his surroundings with a clearer mind, processing every single detail, and Viandegroc could see a million thoughts passing through his head and forming conclusions in each, only to be merged together and building up a bigger picture, only to be discarded and return to the process of pondering, repeating the cycle.

The boy looked down and snipped off blades of grass from the ground in-between the gaps of his fist. As he held it up to his face and opened his hand, he watched as the wind returned and take them away. He looked up to the sky, then turned his eyes to the sun directly, suffering no discomfort nor loss of sight.

A short burst of mana flowed out of him, merging into the Castle of Dreams, and the weather immediately responded to his wishes. What was once a clear blue sky immediately darkened, rain clouds suddenly forming and removing the sun from the setting.

The sound of pattering shortly followed, a light drizzle coming down and heralding a downpour.

Their robes steadily getting damp, their hair sticking to their faces, Emurdol turned to Viandegroc and asked, ":h-t?"

Viandegroc swept aside a few wet locks sticking to his forehead, wondering how to explain this, "Well….if the Soul Gem is where our Souls would reside upon our deaths and we would only be nothing but a clump of our memories and emotions, and called it the Court…" He pointed to the ground, a puddle steadily rising on where they knelt, "….then this place would be the Court of the Witches of Sin, our counterparts. Or rather, the Castle of Dreams as the owner calls it. You've met her, Echidna the Witch of Greed. Compared to the Court, we have bodies here."

Emurdol looked down on his hand that once held Echidna's own, then turned to look over his shoulder, looking at something only he sees.

At this point, he should have figured out the reason why there are gaps in regards to the other Supreme Sin's responses to his ruminations for the last couple days. They were here in the Castle of Dreams most of the time, and William had to constantly shove them back into the Court just so he doesn't get suspicious.

Emurdol turned to look back at him, and there was a grim air around him.

"S Y-n:n?"

Viandegroc was silent, dread falling down on him.

Emurdol clicked his tongue loudly, repeating the question, "S Y-n:n?"

"She's here." He answered, his face emotionless. "Your Mother's here."

Instantaneously, Emurdol got up to his feet and started running—

Bone feelers wrapped around his ankles, tripping him. In no time, Viandegroc had already pounced on the boy's back and held his head down with one hand while the other kept his right wrist down, several more tentacles wrapping around him and keeping him pinned to the ground.

"You can't see her. You promised you'd see her upon death."

"Ng:n!? Ng:n d-l!? Y-n:n! Yan:n! Yanan! YANAN! YANAN!"

Quiet! Quiet! Don't scream out for her! You'll break her heart and mine!

"Don't call for her! It's for your own good! And hers too!"

"YANAN! YANAN! YANAN!"

A thunder crash and a flash of lightning erupted, the downpour escalating to extreme limits.

"SHUT UP!" The tentacles flipped him over and Viandegroc held his throat with both hands, tightening it, making sure he can't say anymore and cause further despair to the both of them. And his vision blurred and became red as he looked at his Brother's desperate face. He's crying again. "YOU CAN'T SEE HER! WE CAN'T HAVE YOU BECOMING LIKE US, BROTHER! YOU CAN'T BECOME SLOTH! YOU'RE THE BETTER OF US! I WILL NOT LET YOU TARNISH YOUR OWN SOUL! AND I WILL MAKE SURE YOU DON'T! EVEN IF I HAVE TO DO THIS!"

The storm above began worsening, turning the downpour into a thunderstorm, the cracks of lightning and crashing thunder unrelenting and blocking out all sound, smiting the earth and burning the grass, not even the twister on its way to dislodge him off the boy and punish him was heard.

Despite all this, the two of them could not keep themselves from hearing one thing, the one thing they should never hear at any moment, whether dead or alive, and they both fell into deeper despair.

Mother is crying.

Viandegroc couldn't take it anymore. "You must go, Brother. You can't stay anymore."

The twister is practically licking him.

"You'll hate me by then."

The tentacles were snapped off.

"But we promise. We'll make things right."

As Emurdol disappeared underneath him, the twister devoured Viandegroc and his anguished screams.

|||| « ҉ » ||||

Emurdol shot up from his position with a guttural exhale, gripping his throat and finding none of Viandegroc's grip there. He looked around him, finding no grassland, no person beside himself, no storm, and his mind immediately found the most obvious conclusion.

A large bed he lied on, an even larger room he was in, his right side occupied with windows showing the outside, a clear night sky with the Dragon's Eye meeting his own. The walls were adorned with gold engravings, symbols of a noble.

The Dear Girl took him to her home.

Breathing heavily, breaking the norm of keeping it subtle and calm to the point of being unmoving, he looked down on himself and he was outside his robes, now in blue human sleeping robes. He parted the middle and looked down on his abdomen, the place that assassin repeatedly stabbed him in.

Not even a single scar.

He did not die.

He held back from biting his lower lip, his hair floating and eyes blazing green instead.

He looked to his left, and he saw Mother's frame resting on a chair, primly sat with her back straight, one set of arms crossed while the other laid metal hands on the lap.

"Yanan…" He reached for her shoulder—

Empty.

….

…..the vessel is empty. Mother's not inside. She's gone. Her Soul is not present, leaving behind a useless set of bones and metal.

His worst fears igniting, cold sweat forming on his brow, his breathing pacing up, he slowly reached for the wand that rested on the opposite side of her waist, careful not to jostle her frame. With bated breath, he touched the skull top of the wand, reaching into the Soul Gem….

…..empty.

|||| « ҉ » ||||

17 sets of windows from all floors suddenly shattered under the frequency and the roar reached out to beyond the Mansion borders, terrifying the birds off their nests in the trees. When Raeburn and the maids went up to address the commotion, all they saw was a sleeping man with skin as pale as the dead, his face heavily lacerated, as if it was clawed mercilessly, his fingers smudged with red, and his tears of blood barely visible amidst the sea of crimson.