Chapter 3 Rage

He felt useless. He was useless. A failure that only continued to prove he couldn't fulfill his function— oh, why hadn't his creator ended such a miserable existence? Was it a punishment for his misdoings? If so, it was accurately cruel, in the way he most definitely deserved.

"Pandora… what is wrong?" Jarvis asked not for the first time, concern almost physically dripping from his words. The zerg Area Guardian — the one he was closest to — always asked him that same question every time he visited the Treasury; the only place where they both could drop all pretenses.

Pandora was good— no, it would be more accurate to say he excelled at keeping up appearances. It was part of being an actor after all. Thus, whenever he interacted with the other denizens, he acted just like he was meant to: charismatic, eccentric, energetic, and undeniably likeable. He had managed to captivate, one way or another, anyone he crossed paths with! Sure, they sometimes didn't act like it — the common maids being the most prominent example of such behavior, especially after he called them terms like Mausi* (little mouse) or Bienchen** (little bee) — but that was probably an attempt to camouflage their true feelings!

Really, Pandora couldn't quite understand how Jarvis had managed to discover he was faking his cheerful attitude. No one else had succeeded in seeing past his façade, no one else had kept poking at his defenses until they got to see the emotional turmoil that Pandora kept caged inside his heart.

He didn't deserve the support of such a great person, one that acted as healing balm to his shattered soul. If Pandora was truthful with himself, he should atone for his failure by having the worst punishment imposed over him: that of complete isolation.

He really couldn't think of anything worse. He felt he would be able to endure any other kind of torture, except for that one, which was… odd, in itself. Pandora had always been alone in the Treasury when the Tomb was still in Yggdrasil and he hadn't felt anything wrong with it. But the moment they were transported here, when he discovered he could actually leave his assigned area and meet the others? Having company was quickly addictive, in a way.

He couldn't think of anything worse than being abandoned, left behind by his fellow guildmembers. Being left alone in a place that he considered his home would be—

"Pandora? Hey…" Jarvis muttered softly, using the end of his wing to poke at his shoulder. The action almost made the military jacket fall off, but Pandora was quick to reposition it. He rearranged his cap as well, a nervous tick he had developed after arriving to this world and discovering Harry-sama was no longer within Nazarick's halls. It made him feel closer to the absent Supreme Being, a small source of comfort.

Jarvis looked concernedly at him, having caught the action. They were sitting in front of each other, in the sofas that adorned the Treasury's "reception" area, so they weren't close enough for Jarvis to reach out to him with anything other than the long skeletal wings.

The zerg poked him again, this time at his knee. Pandora silently played with his cap again. The other knew Pandora only did that when he was feeling… well, no good. Another unasked question hung in the air between them.

"Schmusekater* (cuddlecat), I just don't understand. How can you still… even after everything?" Pandora whispered, lowering his head to gaze at the tiled floor as if it held all the answers.

That sentence was vague. Pandora could be referring to anything, but Jarvis knew him well enough to understand what he really meant, even if he was unable to express it out loud.

"The… world items," Jarvis muttered tentatively, leaning forward until he rested his forearms over bent knees. Pandora choked on thin air, and nodded furiously.

"Ja! Don't you see? Protecting them was what I was created for, but even then, they disappeared! No trace, no alarms—" he exclaimed agitatedly, moving his arms wildly to emphasize each sentence, to the point where his jacket almost fell off his shoulders again, "—all of them! Gone!"

It was no wonder Harry-sama hadn't visited him, hadn't bothered with a farewell the same way he did with the rest of Nazarick. Every time said topic came up Pandora felt a stab to the heart; hearing the others talk about his last message, how proud he had been of them, how warm the light had been—

Pandora hadn't been deserving of his Master's kindness since he had failed in the one task he couldn't afford to fail. Useless, useless, what good was he for, if—

He was taken out of the depressive spiral by another poke — this time harder — and aimed to his ribs. Pandora scoffed, curling to his side to protect his torso from further proving.

Jarvis didn't say anything. Instead, the zerg simply tilted his head to the side, seemingly contemplative as the silence stretched over them. Pandora deflated, had the other realized he was undeserving, after all?

"I… may have a theory," Jarvis muttered at last with a hesitant tone, one clawed hand rubbing the back of his neck.

That single sentence was enough to make Pandora's posture straighten up military-like, as he turned to face the Overmind with shocked disbelief. Jarvis knew better than to joke with this, surely?

"About the world items disappearance?! But— if you did, why not mention it to Ainz-sama from the very beginning? He was—!" Pandora exclaimed, abruptly standing up from the Treasury's sofa. He took in a breath to continue, but paused when Jarvis sighed shakily and lifted his head to look at him.

His gaze was glassed over with unshed tears. "Pandora… my creator, Sir is— was, he used to be—" Jarvis started to say before choking down a sob, the emotional wound still too fresh.

Oh no.

Pandora crossed the distance with long strides, making a shooing motion so the zerg scooped over to make space for him to sit down at his side. Jarvis tearfully snorted but complied, wings pressing close to his back even as his body continued to silently shake with barely-controlled grief. Pandora raised a hand, long fingers curling around Jarvis' shoulders to give a comforting squeeze.

How did it feel like, losing one's creator?

That was a question Pandora hoped he would never get the answer to.

"I— my apologies," Jarvis muttered sincerely, finally calming down a bit, "what I wanted to say… is that Sir is— was— he was… very unique. His room's design is proof of it."

So far, only Jarvis had been able to operate that odd changing room, Pandora being the second-best suited. With anyone else, it didn't even work— the room showing an unchanged, impersonalized chamber that seemed to be its default when one failed to channel the right shifting magic.

Ainz-sama said there was nothing like that in Yggdrasil, but Jarvis confirmed it had always been able to do that, even before Nazarick was transported to this place. No one knew what to make of it.

Jarvis had also mentioned some experiments that generally took place in that ever-changing room — where he had helped his creator with different tasks — but since the final findings were always drawn by Harry-sama, the zerg wasn't sure what, exactly, they had managed or failed to discover. Still, the glimpses he did have had been useful to improve the art of potion making, something that seemed to make Ainz-sama feel both: relief at effortlessly gaining new knowledge and confusion about how his fellow Supreme Being could have discovered as much.

All in all, Harry-sama's past doings remained mostly in the dark, a mystery they weren't sure they would ever be able to uncover.

"Ja, I don't deny that. Harry-sama was always a special one… I was one of the last to be made, but the others have mentioned that he talked with them from the very beginning? Ah, sorry, is that not… I mean, what do you mean by this?" Pandora finished lamely, removing his arm when Jarvis shifted uneasily.

The zerg seemed to be carefully choosing the words, to determine the best way to phrase his thoughts. His expression seemed almost… guilty.

"I just… I think I heard him mention, how he was preparing to face the end of the world— even if I failed to recognize it as such back at the time. I just thought it was a special trip… I was stupid— no, that's not the point," Jarvis chastised himself. Passing a hand over his face, he took a deep breath and continued, "in the last few weeks, before the transition, Sir had me harvesting certain ingredients, while he focused on gathering— um, items."

Jarvis stressed the last word, giving him a meaningful look. Pandora forced himself to swallow the sudden weight in his throat.

"Do you… believe…"

"Sir may have…. taken the World items of the treasury, at some point. Perhaps Sir disappeared, along with them, in a way to ensure Nazarick would not? Sir had strong Martyr job classes, if I recall correctly… perhaps their c-combined sa-sacrifice would enable us to— to live on—"

Jarvis was uncapable of continuing that train of thought, words dying as he lowered his head in defeat, but he didn't need to say anything more. His point was clear.

Pandora meditated the theory, heart growing heavy at the implications — selfless, Harry-sama had really been selfless — but still, even if Harry-sama had taken the World items into his inventory, Pandora should have noticed. He was in charge of the treasury and all the items within, so any changes to its inventory were automatically noted in his mind. That had always been the case whenever one of the Lords added or removed anything, back when they were still in Yggdrasil.

He mentioned as much to Jarvis, feeling surprised when the zerg immediately shook his head with disagreement.

"Sir didn't rely too much on his inventory. When it came to keeping things at hand, he always used the… he had a small bag hanging around his neck, like a collar, did you happen to see it?"

Pandora had, but the thing was so small and ugly— no, no, that was disrespectful of Harry-sama's choices —unassuming. Yes, unassuming was the word. It was small and unassuming and clearly not meant to contain and protect one's precious items.

But if his absent Lord really had placed the World items in that bag instead of using the inventory… Pandora couldn't rule out the possibility that he may not have been alerted by it. An item was considered as 'removed' from the Treasury when someone equipped it, or placed it in the inventory, so if neither action was made…

"T-then, if Harry-sama took them away…" That meant he hadn't failed in his function?

"I believe that's the most likely scenario, considering Albedo and Aureole Omega handed over their items to him, a few days before— before we... came here."

Pandora allowed for a flicker of hope to take root in his heart. Yes, the Guardian Overseer really had mentioned that… and although Pandora had never spoken to the Pleiade's sister in the 8th residence, if what Jarvis said was really true, then maybe—

"That… could be?"

Was he really allowed to hope?

"It would also explain…" Jarvis started carefully, gaze softening as he looked at Pandora, "why he chose not to come by to give you a farewell. Maybe he was afraid you'd notice?"

Pandora breathed shakily.

Oh, how he would love that to be true. To know that Harry-sama hadn't been disappointed in him, that his now absent Lord had, perhaps, been proud of him— loved him just as much as he had his comrades. That his Master would have liked to play with his military cap one last time—

Long fingers curled over his lap, the pants' fabric wrinkling irreparably in his shaking grasp. Jarvis was the one that had spent the most time with Harry-sama, the one that knew him the best — apart from Ainz-sama of course — so maybe, if the zerg believed that, it may be accurate to assume…

"D-do you think—"

"Sir always had a soft spot for you," Jarvis admitted gently, eyes taking a far-away look as he got lost in memories, "Sir used to… mention you, every time after visiting the Treasury, like interacting with you was the part he liked the most about each visit."

The sincere admission made Pandora release a disbelieving shaky laugh. Jarvis extended one boney wing behind Pandora's back, and then curled the appendage around him in a side-way hug. The action made him lower his posture, so he could curl against Jarvis' side more naturally, finding reassurance in the weight pressing around him. It was like an anchor, preventing him from drifting away into dangerous waters.

"Schmusekater, you're not lying to me, are you?" He couldn't help but ask, even though he already knew the answer.

"I would never. Sir really did like you, I have no doubt in my mind about that. I believe he would have come for a last visit, had he..."

The sentence remained unfinished. There was a lot of speculation and what-ifs in this theory, it had a lot of holes they never would be able to fill out, no matter how much time they spent brainstorming.

But even then, Pandora chose to believe. To cling to that thin ray of hope. To—

"Pandora's Actor." Oh, a [Message] from his creator!

Pandora pushed away the wing and jumped out of the couch in an instant, straightening and clicking his heels together, right hand going to his forehand to salute. The moment of vulnerability was over as he slipped into his excitable character once more, ignoring with practiced ease the way Jarvis' snorted at his actions.

Truly, the zerg had to be the only being in the whole world that could find his mannerisms worth teasing for. The nerve!

"JA! It is I, Pandora's Actor~~!" he sang merrily, ignoring Jarvis suspicious coughing behind him, "what can I do for—"

"We're going to battle." His creator sounded absolutely livid. Whoever this Jim person was, he must have done something truly unforgivable. After all, the plan had been to attempt to strike amiable conversation first. What had broken up negotiations in such a short amount of time?

"Very well Mein Meister! Which set should I—"

"THAT BASTARD!" His creator started to yell unprompted, voice laced with the purest rage, "THAT GARBAGE! HOW DARE HE! DARE TO HAVE THAT LANCE! HARRY'S! THAT SHIT! DOES HE THINK THAT CAN EVER BE FORGIVEN?! THAT—"

The furious screaming suddenly halted, the raw emotion disappearing as the Overlord returned to his usual calm. It was a sudden change, as if the emotion had simply been cut off.

"...that piece of shit has Harry's main weapon. Standing there in the Inn so nonchalantly, waiting— hmph. This changes things. Execute the plan we had agreed on and wait for my signal, this is not a battle we can afford to lose. You understand, right Pandora? Truthfully, I am still very angry..."

Harry-sama would never give away his main weapon. The implication of what may have happened hung heavy over his head.

Pandora straightened to his full height, long fingers curling into fists as he pronounced an uncharacteristically serious "Ja."

"How much time?"

"Within the hour, Mein Meister."

"Good. I will start preparations on my side as well, leave the coordination to Albedo, focus on your own role. An hour… yes, Jim will probably stay in the Inn, waiting for that long. Anymore and he may leave, so keep me posted if anything comes up that can jeopardize our allocated time."

"JA!" Pandora saluted once more, this time letting out a blood-thirsty aura that made Jarvis hurriedly stand up from the couch as well.

Once the [Message] ended, Pandora shared the news with him.

The killing intent within the room doubled.

Within the next hour, said murdering intent spread like fire all over Nazarick, as the news were shared among its denizens.

The human, Jim, had managed to gather the animosity of the entire Guild in record time.

(x)

Harry looked at the [Gate] that had appeared in front of them as soon as they were away from prying eyes, standing in an alley that was filled to the brim with anti-detection magic, probably prepared beforehand.

Harry glanced at Momon once more, his mind working to accommodate the pieces of the puzzle. He had never met someone that could use [Gate] in this world, and now suddenly there were two people that had access to such magic? And both aimed against his "Jim" visage.

Coincidence? No, the universe was rarely so lazy.

Momon must be… linked, somehow, with the farm and demi-human kidnappings. Heck, maybe the adamantite adventurer was The Summoner? The man never removed his armor or helmet, from what little Harry had heard about him. It was entirely possible, that the man may not really be human, perhaps not even a warrior, and was just posing as one… and even then, someone that still had managed to rank among the strongest adventurers.

It made sense if Momon was the summoner, since Harry had estimated them to be at least at 95 level. Right now, he couldn't perceive anything, so he surmised Momon was protecting himself with items or skills, but Harry was willing to bet his theory was correct. He would have been able to confirm it if he could use Legilimency on the warrior, but the helmet prevented him from directly meeting the man's gaze.

Actually, now that he thought of it, could this man be a player? If yes, that would make him the first one Harry encountered in this new world.

Could they reach an agreement if they talked—?

I won't accept the request without trying out your strength first.

The adamantite adventurer had stated that with a sense of finality. Harry inwardly sighed, accepting he would need to implement a strategy that could defeat the man without causing any lasting damage.

Maybe demoralizing him would be enough? Surely Momon would surrender and be willing to talk things out once he noticed winning was impossible. That should prevent him from resenting Harry's victory as well — either out of fear or out of common sense, the pros outweighing the cons — which may allow for a mutually beneficial exchange of info.

That would be the best-case scenario, and the one he would aim towards.

"Hm? Whatever is wrong?" Momon inquired mockingly, still standing a few steps behind Harry in a way that was probably meant to block an escape attempt.

Instead of replying, Harry silently dispelled his low-level armor, so he was once again equipped with the robes he had used when he was taken by the shadow demon. Unstrapping the lance from his back, he tapped its end against the floor softly.

"Must we really fight?" Harry tried one last time.

"I've already answered that," Momon replied without missing a beat, anger lacing the words even more viciously. The warrior didn't seem surprised by Harry's change of equipment, which reinforced his theory of the man being linked to the farm.

Harry wondered what, exactly, he had done to warrant such hatred. He hadn't even managed to interfere with the farm's demi-human 'stock' collection yet. The only thing that came to mind was that, if they had really surmised that he was taking intel from the summons, then maybe they were under the misconception that Harry knew more than what he actually did.

It was something that could have been solved by talking, but Harry knew better than to try when the opposing party was so obviously unwilling.

"Had to try," Harry sighed sincerely, before stepping through the [Gate].

The place he was led to was a relatively wide clearance inside the Great Forest of Tob. Harry knew that since the imposing wooden building was easy to spot from his current position.

The [Gate] behind him closed, without Momon passing through. Harry hadn't expected him to.

Taking a defensive stance, Harry silently extended his magic around his immediate surroundings. He felt several traps around the place, the rubber-like capsule around the area that was supposed to prevent him from escaping— [Dimensional Block] if he recalled correctly — and there was the tell-away tingly feeling that meant he was being observed.

He should leave the surveillance magic alone. He was trying to make a point, so showing how one-sided the battle was going to be was a must. The magic preventing his escape was useless against him either way, so there was no need to take that one down either. As for the traps… should he make a show of purposely activating them, just to demonstrate that they didn't really hurt him? Or would it cause a bigger impact to have them all dismantled at once? The second option was probably better—

Eh? Wait, were those— holy shit, what the flying fuck—

There was an army of creatures all over the place, waiting underground to ambush him. Ones that registered in his inner radar as both: a few thousand individuals and only one.

That only happened when he was dealing with the zerg race; a single mind for thousands of living signatures. Crap, crap, crap— he needed to find the Overmind first, otherwise things were going to— aw, shit.

There were some others surrounding him at his level, on the ground, and good amount flying over the sky. He perceived those as a combination of mostly demons, undead, beasts — there was a Beast Tamer around? — and zergs.

Shitty devs, Harry inwardly cursed out of habit more than anything else. They were spaced out, so using spells that covered a wide area wouldn't be enough to cause significative damage.

Harry had the feeling that this was going to be a similar experience to his conquest on Jald's dungeon: a very interesting fight.

AUTHOR NOTE:

Lock the doors and close the blinds, we're going for a ride!

Something worth mentioning, the scene with Jarvis and Pandora is dedicated to J.F.C. who mentioned that they would make a good couple. You're free to read it with shipping glasses on! *wink, wink* If not comfortable with that, you can leave them as a best-bro-buddy-friends, both options work.

It was fun writing Pandora in a way that resembled Ainz. His sudden fear of solitude and abandonment is a reflection of what his creator is going through... hope that was transmitted correctly. Also, I don't know German, so the nicknames were googled. I'm sorry if those are not actual petnames! Feel free to suggest some if that's better.

This is a series I wanna finish before its publishing, so I have no comments to answer yet. If there's anything I've failed to cover, I suppose I can clarify in the comments or come back to editing at a later date.

For now, enjoy reading! See ya' around~ dEBB987