Disclaimer: DanMachi and its original characters are created and owned by Fujino Omori.

Chapter 13: XIII

Depictions of graphic violence, self-harm, and mental illness.

As if in a daze, all of those eyes went up, tracing the top of the tower as it made its descent. They could see the smoke and dust and debris from where the top of the tower had been sheared off by the second pillar of light— of flames—

It glowed with a sickly red hue: almost blinding.

The ground beneath them roared and thundered as the dust and smoke seemed to crawl its way down the side of the tower. Loose pieces of stone and brick fell from the sky like oversized hail, first under cover of the smoke and emerging only when it was far too late.

The screams rang out in unison as the people all rushed to leave, but the crowd was far too large and the streets were far too narrow for all of them to pass through. The parents clung to their children, trying to shield them from the falling rocks which were like meteorites. The adventurers did their best to direct the people where they needed to go, but their voices were drowned out by the sound of the thunder and the roaring of the flames and mayhem and hysteria.

Leaping up onto a higher vantage point, a patrol guard from the Ganesha familia shouted, trying to overcome the dust and smoke that seemed like an ocean— smothering them— and also the sound of crumbling stone as the tower collapsed inwards, fracturing itself as it went down like a line of dominoes.

The Tower of Babel, which once majestically stood in the moonlight, piercing high into the sky and the clouds containing fifty floors now only had half that number in the span of two minutes.

"Isaac, notify Captain Shakti; she's likely already on her way, trying to meet up with her and let her know of the situation." He barked an order to one of his subordinates, who turned to look at him before saluting and dashing off as fast as he could. "Nadia, get the Loki familia here, now. The Sword Princess is here, so they will come." The young woman, too, saluted and ran off sprinting Northward to the Twilight Manor through the debris and smoke. "Nathanael, get the Freya familia here, too. Whatever it takes, I don't care!" The lightfooted boy needed no further encouragement before running off Southward to Folkvangr.

Then, he turned to the rest of his crew, though at this point it was only him and another guy. "Both you and I will take charge here. The other adventurers will listen to us, surely: we're Ganesha familia. I don't care what you have to do or what it takes, just get them to all cooperate. The Sword Princess will give us some time to evacuate." He paused. "I don't know what caused all of this— if it's a monster or whatever— but we'll only get in her way if we try to help. But I know that if everyone is here then she won't be able to focus on doing whatever she needs to do."

"Aye, sir…"

He clapped his hands together. "Let's go!"

xxx

"Everyone, please don't run— I understand that it's scary but—"

His voice was drowned out by the shouting and screaming of the children.

"No, no— please don't push; don't push—!"

Her voice was drowned out by the parents who were yelling. All of their voices merged into one, begging the adventurers to do something but even the adventurers themselves were at a loss for what to do.

"Please calm down— don't panic—"

The Guild Advisor that had joined in to help was ignored.

"The Sword Princess is giving us time, please listen— we need to calm down—!"

He was ignored, too.

"Hey, watch out—!"

The adventurer dove in just in time, with a makeshift shield he had picked up which was really just wooden scraps from a cart, he took the brunt of the blast that turned the shield to ash in an instant.

He was knocked back by the force of the blow, but he didn't feel it anyways as the heat seared his skin— frying his nerves. His skin peeled, revealing the red and raw flesh underneath as he lay motionless embedded into the side of a building.

This only caused the screams to grow louder and more violent.

All around, people— whether adventurers or regular people— dropped like flies as the debris rained down from above. The large pieces of stone and masonry were unstoppable as they descended. Anyone who was unfortunate to get caught in the way was crushed under them and only luck could tell whether they survived. Others were caught in the bursts of flames, practically being smothered by them and burned alive.

"Hey—! Hey!" The young man from Ganesha familia tried to get the attention of the adventurers, but the crowd was even rowdier than when Bors tried to organize all of the adventurers from Rivira to take down Goliath. "I need everyone's attention—! Adventurers, the Ganesha familia—"

But even as he bellowed as loud as his lungs would have allowed, it was no use. He had been wrong. He cursed under his breath. There was no way he'd be able to assemble the ragtag group of adventurers to do anything. They were adventurers, not his fellow compatriots in Ganesha's police force. He watched as the stones continued to rain down like hail, powerless to truly do anything except save those that were around him.

He only hoped to the Gods that those who were not fortunate enough could still be saved from the wreckage. The rest of the tower collapsed and he shielded himself from the shockwave and the cloud of dust that surged outwards, covering the entirety of Central Park and several hundred meters radially outwards in the ash.

Meanwhile, the flames raged on, seemingly not showing signs of dwindling anytime soon.

He looked up. By now, only ten floors of Babel remained and the momentum continued to carry the weight of the Tower downwards.

He felt weightless— like he was drowning.

Whenever he tried to move his arms, they wouldn't.

Whenever he tried to move his legs, they wouldn't.

All he could do was stare— with those vibrant, crimson eyes— into those flames that were just as brilliant and red.

It was comforting; it was warm. Like someone was holding onto him and never letting go.

And he didn't want to let go, either.

Yet, it also hurt at the same time.

Those hands grabbed onto him— clawed at his skin and dug their nails into his flesh— trying to reach out to him and keep him steady. But he didn't want to stay here because he knew that there was somewhere to be— though he didn't quite know where. Nonetheless, those hands merely tried harder and harder to keep him there and to get him to stay.

"But someone needs me," he reasoned. "Someone is in trouble and someone needs my help. Shouldn't that be enough reason for me to go?" A frown came to his face. "Don't you want me to go?"

But he already knew the answer because those hands continued to hold onto him.

"Don't you want me to be happy?"

At that moment, he realized that those hands that held him so gently and gave him so much warmth were nothing but chains to keep him back. But to hold him back from what?

"Don't you want me to be happy?"

He raised his glowing, white fist, burning with such fury, bringing it down against her bruised face, sending her into the stone pavement. Then, holding her steady by her arms, he brought his fist up again, sending it crashing into her over and over and over again.

"Don't you want me to be strong? So I can be a Hero and so I can be kind? So I can save the people I care about?"

He heard the sound of someone gasping as if trying to breathe but ultimately failing to do so. As he reached out to grab her neck, crushing it with his vice grip, he lifted her up onto her feet, just barely touching the ground with her toes, he tossed her aside, sending her into a pile of bricks, collapsing the small building from the force of her impact.

He felt the power enter his hands— he felt like he could tear down even the most insurmountable of walls and the most sturdy of shields. They were so hot and glowed with such a bright light that it was blinding.

"Don't you care about me!? I thought you wanted me to be happy! I thought you wanted the best for me—!"

He lunged forward like an arrow ripping through the air, carrying all of the flames with him as he went. With a supersonic boom, he crashed against the building, sending it toppling to the ground along with the buildings nearby. A large pillar of flames shot into the sky, piercing the clouds, and burning to ash anything in its path.

Lifted up by her arms, she was tossed aside once more like a ragdoll. So devoid of energy and strength, she couldn't do more than be guided by the momentum and the force of his strikes. She crumpled to the ground, almost being crushed by the toppling debris of the collapsing tower. She barely crawled out of the way in time as a particularly large chunk landed where she once was, shattering upon impact and fracturing the floor beneath.

"I'll help you, okay? If you trust me, then I'll help you, too. I'll save you so you don't have to be afraid and scared anymore! I promise I won't do it again. I promise that it'll be better this time. I promise that I won't make the same mistake again."

He brought his boot forward, striking her in the gut and forcing the air out of her lungs. She rolled against the ground as the rubble continued to pile up around her. Then, she felt the tug on her hair, pulling her up onto her feet even when she could barely stand.

"Just trust me. I won't hurt you, okay? Just trust me. Trust me. Trust me. Trust me. But alas, who am I to say what'll happen? It's the world's fault, I say. It's the world's fault for making itself so cruel and so unforgiving. It's not my fault."

He pulled the girl into his arms, kneeling against the floor, cradling her head in his arms and supporting her broken arms and legs.

"Do you trust me? I'll save you, okay? I won't hurt you anymore, so just trust me. I'll make sure nothing else will hurt you ever again, so please trust me. And even if I do end up messing up and hurting you all over again, just know that I'll still be trying and trying and trying and failing and failing and failing again and again."

His thumb rubbed under her eye as if asking her to look at him. She squinted through her heavy eyelids at his face, trying to meet his gaze.

"Or maybe you want me to disappear and die? What do you want me to do? Tell me. Tell me—! If what you want is for me to disappear and die, then I will. But even then my heart will ache and I will want to come back to save you."

And when he looked down upon her face, as her eyes fluttered open, he was met with a gleaming, ruby red. Her blonde hair was bleached white in the snow and ash.

"But whenever I look at you, I can't help it."

He held onto her head, peering into her eyes.

"Those eyes that are so filled with Dreams and ambition and life and love and kindness…"

He gritted his teeth, feeling the fire within himself burn brighter. The embers that had once momentarily calmed began to ignite once more.

"...and also so much idiocy and hypocrisy and foolishness and despair and hatred…"

In and out. In and out. In and out. He breathed through his clenched teeth as if he himself were the vessel to contain and fan those flames. They surged and grew more powerful and yet as the strength coursed through him, it became unbearably hot.

"... those eyes were like a mirror. Not only to me but also to other 'me's. Those 'me's from perhaps other lives that I could have lived— that I wish could have lived— or from past memories so long gone yet I somehow can't forget…"

His hands burned and he felt the flames leak out of him— out of every pore of his body. Although, even as tears ran down his cheeks, they remained as pristine and as crystalline as they always were.

"... I can't forget even if I want to… and I feel like, no matter what, I'll never be able to let them go… even when they've caused me so much pain and so much suffering and have hurt me so much."

His gaze floated up to the sky and a sob escaped him.

"When I looked at you— into your eyes,

I couldn't help the tears that welled up in my eyes and came down my face,

And although I tried to smile, I could not.

Because I saw that you couldn't either.

And I thought to myself: how could someone be so sad?

Yet I realized that I was a hypocrite.

Because I was the same.

Because neither of us could forget.

Because neither of us wanted to forget.

And that made us so much alike.

And I realized that I hated you.

Because I hated myself."

The sky fell: a deep shadow that loomed over them.

There was a sickening crunch in his ears as the sky crushed them both beneath its weight.

Every part of her body burned. All around her were the flames. No matter what she did, that was all there was.

The endless sea of crimson that surrounded her suffocated her. It made her arms and legs heavy and it made it hard for her to move let alone stand up straight. And yet, somehow she managed, because she knew, deep down, that she had to— as if by instinct—

Because it was close by.

That wretched thing: that shadow that loomed in those flames— that crimson that blinded her and invaded her and consumed her from the inside—

That wretched thing that was darker and deeper than even the darkest of blacks— that empty void that could swallow anything in the world— the entire world, even— if it so desired.

She looked onward, her golden eyes peering into those flames: those dancing reds and oranges and pinks— only to find it staring back at her.

Those eyes bore such hatred for not only what she was but who she was— her.

Those eyes that she had seen once before, but those eyes that had once not had their sights on her but something far away and something distant.

But this time, they were. They were right on her. And she felt the brunt of all that hatred and rage and fury.

And she realized right then and there that she wasn't ready for it— that she would never be ready for it. Even when her legs had so little power within them, she felt them shake from under her as she felt that gaze upon her. Those red, slitted eyes that were the Devil itself— those eyes that were so sharp she could feel the needles pierce into her skin and tear her apart limb by limb.

She wanted to run and hide.

Yet, even as she commanded her legs to take her away, they did not. Even as she commanded her arms to protect her, they did not. Even as she commanded the wind to embrace her, they did not. Even as she commanded her eyes to look away, they did not.

She beheld all of it: that chaos and those flames burned her and ate away at her skin and flesh.

She beheld all of it because that raspy voice that she had come to know as her own told her that she should not look away.

"Isn't this what you wanted?"

It asked, echoing in her ears

"Isn't this what we wanted?"

She felt those cold hands wrap around her in spite of the blazing heat around her. They encircled her neck like a powerful python. Her ash-filled lungs— that already struggled for breath— quivered as she brought her own hands to her neck, trying to pull apart that vice grip to no avail.

"Why are you trying to look away? Why are you trying to run away?"

Her arms shook, but even despite however much power she put into them, she couldn't free herself. She felt those hands claw at her, digging into her skin and it burned just as much as those flames. Her skin peeled and deep scars carved themselves into her flesh.

"It's not so bad, is it? Just trust me, I'll get you through it."

She shook her head.

"I've always helped you, haven't I? We've always gotten through anything that was in our way."

She continued to shake her head.

"Everything will be alright so long as I'm here. Whenever you need me, I'll be here."

She felt herself become weightless— as if she were flying.

And then, she fell.

So easily did she tumble through the almost insignificant stone buildings: smashing through them and feeling her bones snap from her momentum. So easily did she feel herself being lifted up and dangling: just barely touching the ground. So easily did she feel herself flying through the air once more: thrown as if she were a mere ragdoll.

Rolling against the ground, she clawed her hands at the ground, trying to force herself up. The heat pierced her skin and made it peel and the cold snow was so bitter to the touch, too. That gentle breeze that once surrounded her had long withered away as if those winds refused to stand against those flames.

She felt that grip around her neck, but this time, it wasn't nearly as cold. It was quite the opposite, in fact.

It was burning.

And a silent scream was torn from her throat as she tried to pry herself free. She kicked and thrashed around and she squeezed her eyes shut.

"Open your eyes."

Finally, one of her kicks found purchase and she felt the grip on her neck loosening. As soon as her foot touched the ground, she tried to run, crawling as fast as she could away and away. Even when she had no clue where she was headed, she knew that as long as she got away from the flames, she would be safe.

"Stop running."

Then she felt something hit her in the chest and she was sent tumbling away once more, slamming into the side of another building.

And then, a tug on her hair, and she felt herself become weightless once more.

She heard the sound of an incessant tapping in her ears. Was that her heartbeat? She wondered. Or maybe her ears had been broken from the roaring of the inferno around her. Or…

…was it the tapping of someone's foot? As if they had become impatient?

"Stop trying to run away, Ais. Stop trying to ignore it. Open your eyes and see it. Hear it with your ears. Feel it with those hands of yours. Smell it. Taste it."

It became louder— loud enough to drown out that loud roar and thunder.

"Look at me. And look at it. I will help you. Just don't look away.—"

She felt her scalp peel as it scraped along the side of the stone tower. Then, a moment later, she was pummeled into it, shattering a portion of its sturdy walls and tumbling into it, crashing against the Gods' stone altar which lay undefiled in the rubble.

The air was sucked out of her lungs and she heaved in a deep breath involuntarily to compensate. Shards of glass and ceramic embedded themselves within her face, cutting deep gashes in her flesh and drawing blood.

"What are you so scared of?"

She was barely staying conscious. Her chest heaved up and down, trying to supply her with ample air to stay awake.

"The dark."

She dug her hands into the debris around her, trying to anchor herself to the world— trying to keep herself awake and grounded.

"Being alone."

Even with her eyes shut, she could feel the flames burn through her eyelids and singe her eyes.

"The Nightmares and even the Dreams."

The boy stood over her, looking down upon her with those crimson eyes as vibrant as freshly drawn blood.

"Afraid that things will be the same as they always are?"

Her heart thundered in her chest and yet it thumped at a snail's speed in her ears— loud and painfully slow.

"Afraid that you'll get hurt again?"

She drew in a breath.

"Yes," she squeaked out, even despite how much it ached and pained her to speak.

There was silence— a dreadful silence that made her wonder if that voice had left: if she had abandoned herself. As if she needed to confirm it, even despite the burning light that could very well blind her— even despite that gaze that seemed to hunt her down and wish to desperately kill her— her eyes fluttered open.

Just a sliver, but enough.

Then, that voice came again:

"Although seemingly your enemy,

But, ultimately, your friend— a cherished and exceptional friend…

If only you allow it to be one.

Which is why you should never try to look away or run away.

Because only those who can endure—

Those who can gaze and keep on gazing even when it gazes back,

Are they who can conquer it,

Control it,

And use it.

Your fated enemy,

Your extraordinary friend.

Fear."

A sigh escaped her lips—

"Let me ask you again, Ais: what are you afraid of?"

The Loki familia had already begun mobilization long before the people came knocking at their doors. With a vice grip on the shaft of his spear, Finn strode through the halls of the Twilight Manor with the executives and a good number of their members following on his heels.

A frown was plastered on his face and he pressed his lips into a fine line. Even from their abode at the most Northern tip of Orario, he could see the smoke billowing from what remained of the Tower of Babel. He could also see the flames that burned so bright they were blinding even from a distance.

He led the group as fast as he could down North Main, avoiding the crowds of people that hovered around in the streets watching from afar. He would have gotten mad at them for standing in the streets and blocking the way rather than trying to help in any way they could— even if they had no falna— but he knew he had to keep a clear head.

Within just a few minutes, they were down by Central Park and he barked his orders. He watched as the ball of flame that he was sure was where Ais and Bell were slammed into the side of the remains of the Tower— probably only one or two of the bottom-most floors remained at this point— and even then it was most definitely destroyed on the inside— merely standing from its foundations

"Tione, Tiona, Bete, go help Ais. She's up there, where the fire is. I'm assuming Bell Cranel is also there and also the monster. Approach with caution and keep your guard up."

"Yes, sir." The three replied before taking off, scaling the side of the tower to reach the top.

"Riveria, Lefiya, please assist in healing the wounded in any way possible; Dea Saint will be here, look for her and help her. Get everyone in critical condition taken care of."

"Yes, sir." The two broke away from the group, heading off in the other direction where they could see small, white tents being set up.

"Gareth, you stay here with me. The rest of you, help evacuate the people and help Ganesha familia with whatever they need."

The others with them, split into five groups led by Raul, Anakitty, Alicia, Narvi, and Cruz, saluted and went their own separate ways, spreading as far and wide as they could possibly go.

Once they were gone, the Dwarf watched silently as the Pallum bit into his thumb, drawing blood. Whether he felt anything bad coming, though, he didn't elaborate upon. And the two of them separated, going their own ways to help in whatever way they could.

Like a deer being stalked by some unseen predator, she was as still as a statue. She, like everyone else, had seen that pillar of golden light that pierced the sky. She, like everyone else, knew exactly what that meant.

But what was even scarier was the second pillar of light that raced into the sky following the first. Except it wasn't like the first because it was a little bit more orange in colour and although it glowed brilliantly in the night sky, it wasn't nearly as divine or ethereal as the first.

Yet, she was transfixed by that light anyways and she remained outside the wooden doors as the people rushed past her, either running towards the direction of the light— to Central Park— or away from it. The lights danced across her face and her clouded, grey eyes: the beautiful colours weaving together like a spectacular show. Then, she peered into the clouds as if searching for something, watching as those clouds which were illuminated by the moonlight radiated off a beautiful, sapphire blue hue.

Then, she heard a voice. It was close, but it was drowned out by all of the other voices around her— filled with screams and shouts: either citizens crying out in alarm or adventurers trying to settle down the crowd.

"—r—!"

There was that voice again.

"—yr—!"

And again.

"—Syr—!"

Closer and louder.

"—Syr—!"

And louder.

"Syr!"

Her eyes snapped wide open. "Oh. Someone's calling my name…" She turned just in time to see the Elf catch her hands, tugging at her arms.

"Come on, get inside. It isn't safe out."

She looked at those resolute sky-blue eyes.

"What's going on…?"

"I'm not sure, but all I know is that the adventurers have asked us to stay inside for the time being. Come, the cellar should provide us with ample protection."

Swallowing and averting her gaze to look back at that light that had begun to fade yet still remained so vibrant, she nodded, as if still in a daze.

"O-okay…"

Was all she got out as she was pulled along by the Elf, and ushered inside the doors of the Benevolent Mistress.

However, before she was taken in and smothered by the warm candles inside, she felt herself become weightless as if she were flying through the air, but in reality, she was merely being carried.

Behind them, the Elf cried out: "Syr!" And she broke out into a sprint just a moment later, trying to catch up and take her friend back, thinking she was in danger. "Syr!" She cried out once more, realizing that she was steady and quite easily losing ground against the people she was chasing.

She watched as the figure clad in a deep hood and cloak rounded the corner and by the time she peered down the dark alley, they were gone. Furrowing her brows and cursing under her breath, she ran back, her hands tightening into fists as her nails dug into the palms of her hands.

"My Lady," came the large man's deep, booming voice, and she remained silent for a moment.

She had her eyes down, fixated on nothing in particular. The wind whistled in her ears.

"I should've at least told Lyu where I was going. She'll be worried about me now."

The man nearly stumbled, hearing just how heartbroken the girl sounded. "Shall we go back?" He asked, trying to remedy the situation, but she merely shook her head.

"No, it's alright."

He remained silent, scaling one of the many buildings close to Central Park where everyone else was waiting. He set her down gently and she wobbled on her knees for a little bit before finally standing up straight.

Four figures of similar height stood at attention with their helmets and visors over their faces. By their side were two taller individuals: an Elf and a Dark Elf. And finally a Cat man. The large man, however, towered over all of them.

Carrying their respective weapons, they waited for her orders.

She gripped the hem of her dress. "The fight. What's going on?"

There was a silence before the Boaz spoke up. "Bell Cranel, my Lady. From what we learned from the Ganesha familia patrols stationed nearby, a brawl in the streets broke out between Ais Wallenstein and an unidentified individual— a monster— to be more precise."

"One of those talking monsters?"

"Very likely. The brawl ended when Bell Cranel intervened, but by that time, it seems like the monster had already been defeated. It seems a disagreement between Bell Cranel and Ais Wallenstein transformed into the battle we are seeing now."

She frowned. "That's impossible. I concede that Bell has an attachment to the talking monsters, but unless it was that little dragon one, I see no reason why…" She stopped. "Unless provoked by something else…"

Shuffling over to the edge of the building, she peered down at Central Park. "And those flames aren't like anything I've seen before… though they look familiar. Is this his doing?"

"Yes, I believe so."

Then, she turned to look back at the assembled eight. Her silver eyes pierced into them.

"I also sensed that a God returned to Heaven. Who was it?"

There was silence now, and even the Boaz didn't want to say it. But, then, as if finding the courage, he spoke up.

"It was Goddess Hestia, my Lady."

She hummed. "Hestia… Hestia…" she looked to the skies once more, glancing at those sorrowful blue clouds through the snowstorm.

"My Lady, what is your order?" Said the Cat man who stepped forward. "Shall we go to subdue Rabbit Foot?"

She was silent for a moment as if she was still lost in her own world. Her assembled executives, however, merely waited, knowing that she would give them their jobs sooner or later.

"No," she said, letting her gaze fall upon the blonde swordswoman in the middle of those flames before drifting off towards the group of individuals racing towards Central Park: in the lead were two Amazons, a Werewolf, a Pallum, a Dwarf, and two Elves. "We'll leave that for Loki familia to deal with. Please assist Ganesha familia in evacuating the area and getting the citizens to safety."

"Understood." Came the response in unison, and the next instant, all eight executives were gone, as if having disappeared into thin air.

Now alone, and knowing that she wouldn't be bothered further, she allowed her legs to collapse from under her. The cold snow melted and soaked into the dress she wore, weighing her down, but she was fine with it because she had no intentions to go anywhere.

She looked to the sky, her silver gaze reflecting the shape of the moon.

Then, she began weeping.

"Now I'll never know… now I'll never know…"

She pressed her hands to her face, covering her eyes as the hot tears ran down the side of her cheeks.

"But it's alright. There still…" she gasped for a breath, sobbing, "there's still something to do… as long as… they're still here, I can…"

Her shoulders shook.

"I already lost one— one of the most beautiful… I can't lose more…"

He felt the flames all over his body; it burned and it hurt so much and yet they would not go away. They surrounded him and grabbed ahold of him and burned him.

He felt as if the weight of the world was on his shoulders and he dropped to one knee, unable to sustain all of that weight. He felt his lungs nearly burst and his heart trying to break out of his chest. As he propped himself up with his arms, he drew in a ragged breath, trying to keep himself going— keep himself awake.

The black blade within his hands had never felt like this before. Before, he felt as though he could fight off any monster with it— he could run and fight and dance and save others with it. He trusted in it and that trust bore him success and strength.

He won battles. He overcame obstacles. And although he also lost with that blade in his hands, he knew that he would grow stronger and get back up to fight once again. Against that Minotaur— Asterius— and win against him for the final time. Against the monsters that attacked him and his familia. Maybe even against the strongest of all of the monsters— against the Dragon King he had read so much about in those bygone stories.

And not only to fight his physical battles but also his other battles, too. That blade, which was a gift from his Goddess, would give him the courage to take on the world— to fight for those monsters that have become his friends and family. Those monsters he knew would give their life to save him and he would, too, in return.

"It's the same, isn't it?"

He brought a hand up to his face, clawing at his eyes as if they were irritated— from the tears.

"It's the same, isn't it? So why does it feel so different?"

A growl came from the deepest recesses of his throat.

"Why is it different? Did you leave? Why is it not the same?"

The frustration kept on coming in waves and he felt his face contort deeper and deeper into a frown with each passing second.

"Why aren't you here? Why is it different? Why can't I… remember…?"

As his grip tightened around the hilt of the Hestia Knife, he shifted it around in his hands, yet no matter whichever way he gripped it, it felt wrong— like it wasn't his or like it wasn't the same blade he had put his trust in all this time. As if on impulse, he plunged it deep into his forearm.

"Why can't I remember what it's like? Why can't I remember what it's supposed to be like? It was mine, wasn't it? I used it and killed all those monsters and levelled up and got strong and fought so many strong people."

He twisted it around as if trying to get a feel for the balance of the blade in his arms, but it always felt off, no matter what he did.

"Why? Why? Why? Why—? Why—? Why—!?"

And with a dreadful squish, he tore it right out of his arm, letting the blood from the deep wound splash onto the marble floor before the intense heat cauterized the gash, sealing it up but nonetheless leaving that red, purple, blotch of deformed skin behind.

"Hestia. Where are you? Hestia. Please. Come back. Hestia…"

He brought the knife up to his eyes before pressing his forehead to the cold, steel blade.

"... please give me courage—"

He felt a force shove him off of his feet and send him flying. The next instant, he was crushed within a pile of rubble.

He roared— like that of a beast— a monster— a dragon— and he dug himself out of the debris, crushing every piece of stone and marble that was in his way. As he finally got back onto both of his feet. He felt the flames surge around his fists and he drove them right into the ground in front of him.

Almost immediately, the flames set off an explosion of pure white.

She was blown back from the force of the blast and she fell against her back, tumbling backwards and crashing into the rubble and debris.

"I need you. Please help me."

It felt so heavy and it hurt so much. He got onto his hands and feet like a feral animal.

"I can't do it. It hurts. It hurts. It hurts. It hurts—"

The flames grew hotter and surrounded him. The heat that had been discharged only a few seconds ago surged through him, wrapping around him and clawing at his skin.

"I need you. Please come back. I need you—"

He saw the girl stand back up with her fists clenched. Even without her prized weapon, she still stood up against him, ready to fight as if her life depended on it.

"Tell me how you do it. Tell me how you can do that. I want to do that. Tell me how you do it."

He saw her approach: her dark silhouette in the bright light.

"Tell me how. You are… Tell me how. You are supposed to… Tell me how—"

He could tell how much it ached her to walk: how much it ached her to stand, and yet she did it anyway.

"You're supposed to be like me… Tell me how you do it, god damn it—!"

He lunged forward with the knife in his hands, bringing it down against her. He felt the knife plunge into her shoulder, meeting no resistance.

However, even as he landed a blow, he immediately took one in return. Her fist crashed against his face, sending both him and a spray of blood to the ground.

But he caught himself in time, holding himself up by his arms and, using his momentum to his advantage, spun around to kick her legs out from under her. She collapsed to the floor, letting out a grunt as she hit the solid marble.

Bringing his foot back, he kicked forward, trying to catch her face, but with an almost inhuman athleticism, she spun out of the way, moving with her arms and flipping onto her feet. She landed with a small thud— like a feline on the balls of her feet.

"You're supposed to be me… you're supposed to be like me… just like me— like me—!"

The Hestia Knife carved through the air, imprinting its black edge into the very space between them. Yet, as unpredictable as those attacks and swings came, they were far too savage and wild to be coherent. Ducking under a blow, she shifted herself to the left and caught the blow with her left arm, deflecting the attack cleanly. Then, even as he swung again, she simply retreated, taking a step back out of range before launching a counterattack, hitting him square in the jaw.

"Stop fighting. Stop trying. Who are you kidding anyway? Why do you continue to fight as if you're noble?"

He thrust the blade forward, and this time, he caught her on the cheek, but it was slight, and he lost the bout altogether as she slammed a fist into his gut, forcing the air from his lungs. He staggered back for a moment, dazed, and she stepped forward with tempo, not giving him a moment to rest—

"Like you're some good guy and I'm the villain— some kind of monster—"

A grunt escaped him as he was launched backwards, sailing through the air before meeting the ground where he gasped for air upon impact. The force of the impact and his fall shocked his lungs, but he would regain control of them eventually, he knew. So he just had to prepare for what comes next.

"You made her cry that day. And you killed her, too. If you hadn't been so weak and dumb and cowardly maybe she'd still be alive."

He traded blows with her, blocking the punches and kicks she sent his way, but he was easily losing ground as the flames that gave him power was slowly dwindling.

"Just die and disappear already. Then, maybe, her death will be avenged."

She struck a blow on his knees and he collapsed onto his hands.

"Just die already, so I can die, too."

She kicked him in the jaw and he was sent backwards, dazed.

"Her flames will burn you in Hell."

He felt himself being picked up by his hair, held up so that his feet were barely touching the floor. There was silence as he tried to catch his breath. There was silence, with only the sound of his struggling breath permeating the eerie distance between them.

His ruby red eyes rolled down to meet her golden gaze. And, almost like he had an epiphany, as he looked into those eyes, a thought came to him:

"Hey, I think it just occurred to me."

He gasped and brought his hands up to break himself free, but he could not muster up the strength to do it. Breathing through clenched teeth, he squeezed his eyes shut—

His torso bent sideways as he felt a blow to his gut nearly snap his spine in half.

"I bet you killed mom, too."

His eyes jerked open, and as his jaw unhinged, the screech of a banshee tore through the air.

The flames emerged once again and the girl was forced back, feeling the skin of her arm peel. She cried out, clutching it to her body as the skin and flesh melted off the bone.

"I didn't— I swear I didn't. I didn't— you have to believe me!"

He screeched again, curling himself up into a ball and clutching at his face, trying to hide his eyes from the world, as if he were afraid if anyone were to see, they would be able to tell—

"I didn't— how could I have? I loved her. I loved her. I loved her— I loved her— I didn't— I didn't— I loved her—"

—that he was lying.

"Right?"

She felt the wicked edge of the blade pierce her flesh. She stumbled backwards from the force of the blow but nonetheless held on tightly to his arms. Then, with as much power as she could behind it, she swung herself sideways, bringing him with her and throwing him to the ground.

She stood on two wobbly feet and she crouched low, trying to maintain her balance as she gritted her teeth.

"Come on, come on, come on— come on—!"

She dug her hands into the debris, trying to anchor herself from falling over.

"Not like this; not now."

She released a breath before taking another one in just as quickly.

"I can do this. I can do this. I can do this—!"

In and out; in and out; in and out. She needed to keep breathing. As long as she kept breathing, she'd be okay.

"It's mine. It's mine. It's mine. All mine. All mine—!"

She was knocked aside once more as the blade approached, driving itself into her gut. She could feel the heat from the flames and she let out yet another silent scream, but she held onto his arms— even as she trembled— and once again threw him against the ground before— this time— launching a counterattack.

She grabbed whatever was closest: a small fragment of a broken piece of glass and as fast as she could, drove it downwards like a spear.

"All of it. My light. My light in my dark. It's all mine; it's me. I'm that. I'm that. I'm that."

She felt the sharp, glass blade plunge into his neck, and she heard him scream even despite the roaring inferno around her.

"Not you—!"

And then, there was silence.

A serene yet eerie silence. She kneeled, feeling the strength in her body escape her and wither away just like the once vibrant flames submit to the ice and cold. She felt her eyelids grow heavy as the blood dripped from the many lacerations on her face.

"Hey, don't you remember?"

Her eyes snapped open just as she felt a hand close around her neck.

And when she looked forward, she saw not the young boy but instead a young girl— a very young girl who looked at her with those luxurious golden eyes that were so bright and so beautiful.

The white dress that she wore that fluttered in a non-existent wind was stained red, and she saw, as if that girl was a broken doll, how her neck snapped to the side. Her head hung only by the final fibres and strands of sinew and muscle.

"Don't you remember that's exactly how you killed me?"

But even despite that, the girl smiled— that wide smile that etched itself onto her face—

"I'm sure you remember. It wasn't that long ago. Remember when you decided to kill me rather than be happy?"

Ais felt herself gag, trying to gulp in fresh air but only smelt the metallic taste of blood and the stench of burnt skin.

"I was always there for you but you decided that you didn't want me anymore."

She clawed at her neck even despite the nothing that was there. Her nails dug into her skin, drawing blood as she tore away at her own flesh.

"I think this time you should be the one to go."

"D-don't…" she croaked out. "S-stop…"

"Why don't you disappear already, Ais?"

"Don't look at me. Who said you could look at me—!?"

She felt something slam into her chest and she tumbled backwards and rolled to a stop.

"Your eyes— eyes— eyes— eyes— eyes— eyes— eyes—"

She felt a searing pain graze against her face and she brought her hands up to cover them. Screams were torn from her throat as she rolled onto her side, flailing as she shuddered from the pain.

"I'll gouge out your eyes so you can't look at me anymore."

She clawed at her face.

"Stop looking at me. Stop looking at me. Stop looking at me. Just disappear. Disappear— disappear—"

Kneeling and letting her hands fall to her sides, she drew in a deep breath, gulping in plentiful air.

"Die and disappear. Die and disappear. Die and disappear."

And then, almost as if propelled forward by some unknown force, she made her way over to the boy, stumbling all the while.

"Stop looking at me. Stop looking at me… Stop looking at me… like that…"

She reached down, grabbing him by his snow-white hair. Then, as she turned him to face her, she saw with those golden eyes of hers, that crimson gaze that stared back at her.

And before she knew it, her arm had been blown back, nearly snapped from her shoulder, bent at an awkward right angle.

"Don't look at me like that. What did I tell you?"

She felt her face get smashed in the next instant. Then, as she stumbled backwards, her balanced was snuffed from her. Her right leg collapsed from under her as his shin met her knee, smashing it the opposite way.

Then, another punch came, and a cut was opened right under her eye.

She staggered back, and that was when she felt a blow to her gut. And, even as she eventually lost her balance and began plummeting backwards, he didn't let her fall.

Her feet dragged against the ground as she was thrown around like a ragdoll. She tried so desperately to keep herself up despite her broken leg and dislocated arm.

And, as he threw her to the side and she held on, he unsheathed the knife that remained by his belt before driving it into her lower back, vitally missing her spinal cord. Then, tearing it out of her flesh, he plunged it deep into her left shoulder blade, ripping into the flesh and muscle.

She didn't even have to stifle her scream as she fell against the marble floor. Maybe it was because she was barely staying conscious or because of her mangled windpipe, she didn't know.

But, as she propped her upper body up with her arms and turned to try and block his blows, she felt herself be overpowered. Her only good arm was brushed aside as a punch connected with her nose then right above her eye.

He was so heavy when he leaned over her that she could feel herself being crushed under his weight. She took another strike to the jaw and she gulped in a breath, feeling herself slowly grow more sluggish.

Then, as he raised his knife, brandishing its wicked edge towards her, she put whatever strength she had left into her arms and raised them, guarding herself against the blow as the blade came down, plunging deep into her forearm and grinding against the bones.

She gritted her teeth before a sigh escaped her lips. She felt her fingertips grow fuzzy and cold and distant.

"13 was what it took. "

Then her arms and legs.

"For you to break me and tear me apart. For you to kill me and to reject the salvation that I gave to you."

Then the rest of her body.

"I gave you what you wanted: strength and skill. I would have given you even more: talent."

And then her eyes too.

"13 was what it took. My eyes and my face; my throat and lungs by that cold, wicked blade. Then, my liver and my leg: so that I couldn't even stand to defend myself. Then my back: so that even when you had me against the ground, I would feel the pain of the glass and rocks cutting into me and those maggots crawling into me. Then my other leg and my arms so that I could not even struggle as I died."

By now, the only thing she could feel were the words that echoed deep in her mind.

"It was unbearably painful. Yet, I found solace as I died because I knew that one day, karma would come for you and kill you the same way you killed me. I gave you everything you wanted and sacrificed myself for you, but all I got in return was condemnation."

And as she finally lost consciousness and succumbed to her own fatigue, she was saved at that very moment.

"I hope you die alone, Ais. Like me."

The boy was met with two powerful fists and a kick, all of which slammed into him with full force, sending him rocketing through the air and off the side of the tower. Tumbling off the side, he tried to reach for a foothold or for something to latch onto, but he found none. Like the snow that surrounded him, he fell. Farther and farther away he went until he was a mere speck.

"Bring her to Riveria, would you, Tiona?"

The normally cheerful Amazon did not respond, merely doing as she was told, hoisting the unconscious girl over her shoulder.

The other Amazon simply peered over the edge of the tower. "Do you think he survived the fall? His Goddess was already sent back to Heaven but look at how much damage he caused without a Falna."

The Werewolf, normally one to argue with the Amazon, merely grunted in reply, folding his arms over his chest.

"Whatever's the case, let's go. I'm sure Captain and Gareth are waiting below for us. They've probably already subdued him by now."

And with that, she began her descent down the mountain of debris from the wreckage with the Werewolf in tow.

The other Amazon, still with the girl over her shoulders, took one last good look at Central Park and at the buildings around them before finally following the others.

The group of four waded through the deep snow that was like a thick blanket covering the streets leading to Central Park. They, like many others, had seen the great pillar of light, but unlike many others, had also felt something within them change.

Great puffs of smoke came from their mouths as their lungs— which were so accustomed to the superior strength offered by the Falna— struggled to adapt to their new Falnaless bodies.

They saw the people around them all hovering around, never going too close to Central Park, and they could understand why. From this distance, even despite the cold air, they could feel the heat from the flames that were so strong they illuminated the sky. It was almost like they were invisible, though, and no one stopped them from getting closer, until, at least, when they reached the perimeter that had been established by Ganesha, Loki, and Freya familia.

As they walked up to the lineup of adventurers guarding the boundary, trying to find a familiar face to talk to. Their wide eyes look around, searching so desperately to…

Surprisingly, it was the High Novice that came to greet them.

"You guys are Hestia familia, right?"

They all nodded but didn't know what to say. Everything was lost on them; all they knew was that somehow they lost their Falna and that Bell and Hestia had both been missing since the afternoon. Things were getting scary, even for adventurers that had spent a great deal of time in the field.

Eventually, it was Welf who spoke: "what's going on—?"

And it was at that moment when the ground shook from the boy's fall. The High Novice shuffled over to the side, hefting up a small shield and putting himself between the flames that pulsed outwards and the four Hestia familia members. Even with the hunk of metal between him and the fire, he could feel it burning his skin and he grimaced, but he knew that it was something he needed to do even if it hurt.

Once the flames subsided, he didn't take his eyes off of the new arrival, but he felt confident enough that things would be okay so he answered the smith's question.

"All I know is that the Sword Princess was hunting down an unidentified monster that somehow made its way to the surface and that Rabbit Foot intervened. There was a disagreement of some sort and it got physical. In the process, Goddess Hestia was sent back to Heaven, but I'm sure you guys already know."

They watched as two more figures descended from above, trading blows with the boy who had already gotten to his feet. One of them, an Amazon, wielded her knives skillfully, and the other, a Werewolf, landed punches and kicks while cutting with a blade of his own. Nonetheless, the boy avoided the blows and even without a weapon of his own, met his two assailants with nothing but his bare hands.

Then, two more approached— the Pallum who carried and nimbly maneuvered a spear and the Dwarf who swung the giant battleaxe with incredible finesse and precision— and they all attacked the boy at once, yet the boy somehow managed to match their pace.

However, as if he was propelled to become faster by some unseen force, he was matching the speed of four incredibly strong level sixes.

"There's no way that's…" The words died in Lili's mouth. After all, what did she even want to say? "There's no way that's Bell"? It was right in front of her eyes!— all of their eyes! But still, she didn't want to believe it; there would be no reason for Bell to be fighting like this— it wasn't like him. Even after everything that happened with the Xenos, he only had the greatest respect for Loki familia and their adventurers. And she was sure they respected him, too.

"So why were they fighting? Just what the hell happened!?" were the thoughts running through the collective former Hestia familia.

None of them wanted to think it was real, but what they say told them otherwise. And even though his eyes were different— hardened, viscous, like they'd never seen before— he truly was the Bell Cranel that was once their Captain.

"We'll, we're not exactly sure about it, either. But for all intents and purposes, he's being considered a threat. From my knowledge, he, the Sword Princess, and the unidentified monster are all to be held accountable for the fall of Babel, as you can tell…"

And that was when they realized, too, that the majestic Tower of Babel that once stood at the center of Central Park was missing. So focused on the fight and on their Captain, they had missed this crucial detail.

"What's gonna happen…? To him…?" Asked Haruhime, through many breaths, trying to calm herself down.

"Well, hopefully, the Captain and the others will be able to subdue and capture him without any other problems. If we can manage that, he'll be brought to the Guild and kept there for some time under surveillance," he paused, not really wanting to say it aloud, but chose not to hide any secrets, "until an appropriate punishment is determined."

"But…"

He grimaced. "I understand that there might be something else at play here that's causing this to happen. I wouldn't know, I don't really know Rabbit Foot as well as some of my seniors or you guys, but Orario can't simply ignore what has happened tonight. People will want to know that they're safe and from their perspective, it was the adventurer Bell Cranel, Ais Wallenstein, and the monster that caused this destruction, so they must be held accountable."

Looking back, they all watched as the fight raged on. "Which is why I'm hoping that things start calming down soon. The sooner things get dealt with the fewer things are gonna go bad… and the better for him, too."

And so, the former Hestia familia could do nothing but watch as the battle unfolded. With their hands clenched tightly by their sides and their hearts even tighter, they hoped that the long night would soon come to an end.

They didn't know what to do. In any other case, they would've risked their lives to help him, but it was different this time around. They had no Falna; they were as strong as just any random person here— perhaps just a little bit stronger because of their training— but they would only cause more problems by trying to help.

And even then, help what? Who were they supposed to help? Bell? Help him calm down? Would that even work? Or help Loki familia? But none of them wanted to hurt Bell.

Eventually, Haruhime couldn't watch anymore and Welf carried her away, leading her out of sight of the fight just as they saw Finn pierce one of Bell's legs, bringing him onto one knee.

That left only Lili and Mikoto. And while the former held tightly onto the High Novice— only so that she would stop herself from doing something rash— the samurai watched on.

She bit into her lip until it bled— until the red went down her chin. Her nails dug into the palms of her hands and she clutched so tightly onto the scabbard of her blade that even without a Falna, it creaked and groaned in her grip.

And she watched and watched and watched— as the fight raged on— and as the distance between her and those she cared about grew larger.

He felt someone approach and he turned, allowing the gentle breeze to sweep through his hair.

"Come to berate me, Asfi…?"

But when he turned, he was met with a deep, rich violet, and he nearly stumbled. The gentle breeze from so high up nearly knocked him over the side of the wall.

"Woah…!" He cried out before eventually stabilizing himself, finding his balance once more.

Breathing a sigh of relief, almost as if trying to release the tension that had just settled over them with comedy, he allowed a grin to light up his face as he addressed her.

"Hey, fancy seeing you up here. Are you here to watch the show?"

She sneered. "How brutish. Is this all a game to you, or something?"

But he merely shook his head. "Not at all. Just interested to see where things go, I suppose."

She hummed and approached until she was standing right beside him. "I see. And what is this particular 'interest' you have? Will it merely be spectating from the sidelines?"

He shrugged. "It's difficult for me to just take sides, you know? Besides, I don't know what I could even do; there's not much that my help would accomplish."

Scoffing, she folded her arms over her chest. "Maybe you could die as Hestia did? Or maybe in place of Hestia; I think that would've been better."

He was quiet as he watched on— as the boy and the girl traded blows atop the pile of rubble that was once the Tower of Babel. Even from this distance, he could see as the two struggled, fighting against each other… and also against themselves, in a way.

Sighing, he stuffed his hands into the pockets of his jacket and wrapped himself tightly in it. "I suppose so. The whole thing probably wouldn't have blown over otherwise." Shrugging again, he merely let a puff of smoke escape his lips and he lifted his gaze away from the fight, looking at the girl. "But I think it'll be fine. He's gotten through worse… I think, anyway." He frowned, but he quickly shook it off. "Anyway, we're talking so much about me that I'm getting a little bit embarrassed. And I also find it a little bit unfair. What about you? Why're you up here?"

She didn't respond and merely watched on.

"Same as me?" He asked, cocking his eyebrows and waiting expectantly.

Finally, she sighed. "Yes and no. It's true that I've come here mostly because I'm interested and didn't want to get too close to everyone else, but…"

She took a deep breath in and released it in a puff of smoke.

"...I've also come to see something… not because it's particularly interesting but because I'm wondering if it'll even happen at all."

"What'll happen?"

"Something that may change things. The last cog, so to speak."

The smile disappeared from his face and he stared at her. Almost with a little bit of hatred but mainly with exasperation and confusion.

"Do you really think he will?"

She didn't respond for a while. And eventually, as if sensing she wouldn't respond, he went back to watching the fight continue below watching as the boy fell off the side of the tower, falling to the ground below.

"Ah… there he goes…" he mused under his breath, almost to himself.

And then, almost like it was a whisper that was almost lost to the wind, he heard her reply after so long—

"Yes, I do… because everyone could… and everyone will, eventually."

She felt weightless.

As if she were swimming— no, drowning.

And yet, she breathed just as easily— more easily, in fact.

It was better to say that she was flying rather than drowning— flying through the air carried by those gentle winds.

But, that wasn't the right word either. She just didn't know how best to describe it.

Because it ached.

It was her body that ached, yet it wasn't really her body— not her physical one, at least. In fact, that one felt quite warm and fuzzy.

She was actually quite surprised she could even tell the difference between them, yet she could.

And it felt so excruciatingly painful.

It was like a parasite within her body— like she was trying to host two lives that hated each other— that wanted to kill each other… but also somehow each of them need the other to live.

She felt her head nestled in her arms. All of her limbs were limp. Even if she tried to move them, she knew that she wouldn't be able to. In an odd way, it felt comforting being there, and yet, she knew that she couldn't stay there forever— in fact, she shouldn't be there at all.

Yet…

"We have some time to pass, don't we?"

She didn't say anything back, instead, fixating on the girl's golden eyes— that gold that was so bright and vibrant and so colourful that it was beautiful.

"Let's play some word association to pass the time. I'll say a word and you say the first thing that comes to your mind. Do you know how to play? It shouldn't be hard, so you can rest while we play."

This time, she let herself nod a little, and with a smile, the other girl parted her lips.

"Hot." Cold.

"Boy." Girl.

"Food." Jagamarukun.

"Home." Castle.

"Prince." Princess.

"Leader." Follower.

"Friend." Foe.

"Family." Mom and Dad.

"Sword." Talent.

"Death." Inevitable.

"Demon." Cruel.

"Sin." Abandon.

"Monster." Disease.

"Wind." Strength.

"Dreams." Pride.

"Contempt." Monster.

"Sleep." Nightmare.

"Tragedy." Destiny.

"Comedy." Lie.

"Hero."

This time, the girl did not respond. In fact, it was almost as if she thought about it. But her friend was quick to point out her mistake.

"Ah, ah, ah," she said, wagging an imaginary finger. "That's not how the game works."

Still, she did not answer.

"Come now. Tell me, Ais. What did you first think of when you heard that word?"

She waited patiently, and yet she heard not a single peep.

"Come on. I mean, I'm you, so I already know quite well what you thought of— and what you're thinking of right now, too."

"Then why do you want me to tell you?"

"Well, because I want to hear you say it; it's more interesting that way. Is that too much to ask?"

"Yeah, I think so."

"Oh, but don't you think that it'll feel good if you said it aloud? Maybe it'll help you."

"No, I don't think so."

"Hmm, I see."

There was silence— an awkward silence that was only broken when the girl spoke again.

"Hey, you wanna keep playing? We can overlook that last one, for now, okay?"

"Uhm, no, I think I'm alright for now. I'm actually a little bit tired. Do you think I could go to sleep?"

"Approval." …

"Eyes." …

"Hunger." …

"Love." …

"..." …

"Did you fall asleep? But we're already asleep, can't you tell, silly?"

"So does that mean someone is waiting for me when I wake up?"

"Oh, I suppose so. Maybe. I'm not sure."

"But how will I know when I make it back?"

"What do you mean?"

"I mean when I wake up. How will I know when I'm no longer sleeping?"

"Well, won't you just know?"

"But… here, it's not so different from outside, is it?"

This time, the other girl did not respond. The silence overcame them again.

"Uhm, I'm sorry, are you mad at me? I didn't mean to ignore you before. I just… wasn't—"

"No, it's alright. I'm just a little bit tired now, too."

"Oh, alright… then, I guess I'll just stay here for a little while longer—"

"No, I think you should go."

"What?"

"I think you should go."

"Why?"

"Because I don't want you here anymore."

"That's rude. What do you mean you don't want me here?"

"I mean that I hate you."

"Why?"

"Because."

"What?"

"Fine. You can stay. But, if you want to, then you have to answer my question."

"Question?"

"Right. Remember when we were playing that game? What was that thing you thought of?"

"..."

"It wouldn't hurt you to say it, would it?"

"No, but—"

"I'm seriously losing my patience here."

"Okay! Okay, fine…"

The girl listened closely.

"But don't laugh, okay?"

"Okay, I promise."

"Okay… here goes…" She paused, taking a deep breath. "The first thing that came to my mind… was… me—"

There was silence— that eerie silence yet it was also a nice silence. The girl held her breath, waiting for her friend's reaction, but it didn't come.

For a while, she simply laid there in that silence, waiting and waiting and waiting, until finally—

She heard a small hiss of laughter— a small giggle that the girl clearly tried to stifle but it was clear as day.

"Hey! Come on, I thought I told you—!"

But then, it grew louder and louder. Many voices overlapped one another, all laughing in unison. The sound echoed in her mind and she had to bring her hands up to her ears to try and stifle the noise yet she couldn't.

She gasped for breath, feeling herself drowning. She flailed her arms and legs around aimlessly and uselessly, but the faux water that surrounded her stopped her from moving at all.

She tried to breathe, but she got only a lungful of water instead and she gagged, feeling the stinging within her lungs and nostrils. Bubbles of that precious life-sustaining air escaped her and she watched as they fluttered away, withering and disappearing.

All the while, she felt the laughter get louder until it became a thunderous roar in her ears— so loud that it nearly shattered her eardrums.

And then, it all stopped. Abruptly.

The voice— that raspy voice— spoke:

"I think it's time for you to wake up, now, Ais."

A pause.

"I think it would also be better if you stopped fooling around… and—"

The next few words echoed so clearly in her mind as she returned to the world of the living—

"— if you stopped dreaming altogether."

Her eyes fluttered open and she nearly jerked up in her bed, but the sharp pain she felt in her lower back stopped her from moving.

She found herself alone in the small, claustrophobic, white room. The walls that surrounded her felt too small and too narrow. Instinctively, she tried to bring her knees to her chest yet she could not through the pain. All she could do was merely watch as those walls seemed to get closer and closer and tried to surround her and restrict her like a cage.

Everywhere she looked was white. And white and white and white and white— everywhere.

Her golden eyes swivelled around, trying to find something— anything to latch onto. And they did just a moment later: finding the anchor which grounded her— that steadied her fast-beating heart. She felt her breath returning to her and then, miraculously, she felt her body begin to move.

Her fingers closed around the cold, worn leather that felt so familiar in her hands.

With a rasp, she drew Desperate from its scabbard.

"I once dreamt a sad story. There was a boy (girl) in a home (castle). (S)He had a family (mom and dad) and friends (foes) who loved (...) him (her). But, one day, a monster (disease) came for him (her). And no matter what (s)he did, (s)he could not stop that monster (disease). (S)He could not stop it: Death (inevitable). Even despite his (her) sword (talent) and his (her) strength (wind), (s)he could not be the Hero (me). It was like (s)he was asleep (nightmare) and dreaming (pride). And when (s)he awoke, (s)he only had contempt (monster)."

She stared longingly at the silver blade of Desperate. Her eyes ran along the sharp, wicked edge.

"No… now that I think about it… it isn't really a sad story… not tragic (destiny)."

She sneered, feeling her lips stretch into a broken smile.

"What a ridiculous and fanciful comedy (lie)."

"Why am I even here again?"

He felt those sharp things pierce his body. Struggle as he might, he could not stop those shapeless things from attacking him over and over again. He took blow after blow after blow, unable to stop them. Blood spilled from the wounds all over his body before they would be cauterized. But even then, it was so, so painful, whenever those lacerations closed up.

"Why am I doing this, again?"

He watched the ashen-haired Werewolf approach and felt his heavy-plated shin guard meet his gut and send him reeling back. He wanted to fall to the floor but part of him held himself up— whether because he wanted to keep on fighting or because he wanted to remain standing so he could be punished for his crimes— he didn't know.

"Just stop already. It hurts. I don't want to get hurt anymore."

Now, it was an Amazon that lunged at him. Her knives danced in the air— thrusting forward like a snake's tongue in unpredictable intervals, as if… she was being cautious.

"Wait… why…?"

There was another one that came from behind: a small blonde one yet terrifyingly deft with that spear he used. It hurt every time he struck— the tip of his spear nimbly avoiding the flames that rolled off of his body and always finding its mark.

"Figured it out, yet? I thought you wanted to give up. So then…"

He saw the small one leap high into the air, holding the spear like a javelin, ready to thrust it down. When he made eye contact with the adventurer, it almost felt a little bit sad in a way, but there was something else within those eyes— fury, perhaps? Or maybe disappointment? Whatever the case, he knew that he was going to finish him off.

This would be his end; he could die for all of the things he's done— all of the terrible things he's done—

"...why are you still fighting?"

Almost instinctively, he strafed to the side just as the spear came down, embedding itself into the ground where he just was, missing by a mere hairbreadth. Then, still, without any control over his body, he spun into a roundhouse kick— propelled by the flames— slamming it into the adventurer's chest.

The Braver was sent away, tumbling into the rubble.

As if in retribution, the Amazon approached again— her movements even faster than before; so much so that even as he tried to watch her, he couldn't keep track of the cuts her blades made or the punches and kicks she made.

Yet, somehow, he stood his ground, as if trusting in those flames to protect him and launched a counterattack, slamming a fist into her jaw. An exploding flash of light dropped her to the floor.

He collapsed, too, feeling the aches and pains of those bruises and cuts take a toll on him. His skin tingled and itched and peeled from the many times it had been burned to heal.

"You're such a hypocrite."

As if he was some insect or a snake shedding off his old skin and being reborn anew.

"You're such a liar."

The adventurers rose once more, grimacing as they brushed themselves off. The Pallum flexed the muscles in his chest, his bloodshot eyes boring holes into the boy. The Amazon swung her arms around, stretching her upper body. The Werewolf, on the other hand, bent himself down low to squat, releasing a pent-up breath all the while. The Dwarf hefted his great axe over his shoulder, observing him closely.

"But what's so wrong with that?"

The three glared at the boy and he glared back. Ruby red clashed with sky blue, stormy grey, pine green, and chestnut brown.

"Why shouldn't I want to remember and cherish those memories?"

Like a feral beast, he crouched down low with his arms touching the ground.

"When I die, I want to die being able to remember all of those faces and names— all of the hardships we endured together— all of the battles we fought together— and even against each other—"

The flames behind him raged on— flickering and dancing…

"I want to be able to do all of that…"

…spectacularly.

"Is that so wrong?"

The four charged forward, intent on subduing him— Bell Cranel—

"Of course not."

The spear came overhead, slicing into his shoulder and carving a deep wound into it.

"Then, please…"

The flames grew hotter to close the wound and he counterattacked, landing a punch straight into the Pallum's gut.

"...give me courage—!"

He ducked to the side just as the knives appeared— carving beautiful silver crescents in the air. Then, as if he were truly an animal, he landed on the balls of his feet and pounced, throwing a punch and then spinning into a back kick.

Nonetheless, the Amazon blocked the blow, but she was forced to retreat as a tongue of flames kissed her skin, burning it. She stifled her scream as she leapt backwards to avoid the flames that surged forward.

"I don't ever want to forget…"

Two more approached from behind and he dove sideways as a massive axe shattered the floor where he stood. He rolled and flipped out of the way, but only found himself flanked and he tanked a roundhouse kick to the chest which launched him squarely into the stone tiles.

Gasping for breath, he rolled out of the way in time as the butt of the axe descended on his head. He flipped onto his feet, landing with a thud on his heels.

"I want them to always be here…I want to always have them…"

They came again, now four of them, closing in from all sides.

His skin felt so hot like he had a fever.

"So, stay with me forever, please…"

He ducked under a blow and deflected the next, standing firm and not allowing the force behind the swing to knock him off his feet. Leaping, he felt the flames propel him, speeding up his tempo.

Sidestepping, the heavy axe that he knew he could not possibly stop whizzed past his ear.

With reflexes almost as fast as lightning, he caught the spear as it was thrust forward, just millimetres away from his shoulder.

He brought his hands up to his face, blocking the explosive roundhouse kick that shattered the bones in his forearms.

With finesse and practiced precision, he fought through the hail of blades that came his way.

"I will. I always will. It was my choice since the beginning… but it also pains me to see how much it hurts you. I'm afraid of being forgotten and disappearing… so please don't forget me…"

He took a step back away as he breathed out, feeling his heart nearly break out of his chest.

"Don't forget me… but please forgive me… because I have hurt you so much when you didn't deserve it— because I have wronged you so."

He felt his hands tighten into fists, but even through the thunderous roar of his heart in his chest, he heard something else— a shift in the wind: it howled.

"If you can do that, Bell, then you already have plenty of courage."

He felt the flames roar in response, but this time, he felt as though he had control over them. And, as he allowed himself to relax, he looked up to the sky— to the moon that shone so beautifully in the dark sky.

Then, she was there.

Her golden hair swayed in the wind like fine silk. Her golden eyes were resolute and strong. Her silver blade, which looked wicked and grotesque, also looked serene and beautiful.

"Courage comes in many forms.

Perhaps courage is the power to overcome and conquer fear.

Perhaps courage is the power to persevere through any challenge.

Perhaps courage is the power to become stronger and invincible.

But, to me, courage has always been

the strength of will for someone

to see themselves for who they truly are.

And to embrace who they truly are,

No matter how ugly."

He released a breath— a puff of smoke into the night sky.

He met her eyes— red and gold clashed.

And as he watched her descend, with that blade poised to kill him, a thought came to him— a memory—

"If you cannot fathom yourself being a monster, you cannot recognize yourself as one when you are one."

Oh.

Is that what it meant?

With his ruby red eyes— now open to the world— he saw the world around him for what it was.

"I'm… truly… a monster."

Yet, even with that morbid thought in his mind, he smiled.

He hummed a tune as he watched the fight beneath unfold. It was quite a sad scene, but he was still intent on watching— if only he could see the end. But, then, she spoke, breaking the silence between them— the one that had lasted for so long it felt like an eternity and he had almost forgotten she was there.

"You asked me some time ago what my answer was, didn't you?"

The God turned to look at her with an eyebrow raised. "I'm sorry?"

He watched as she stared down from their vantage point on the wall looking down upon Central Park from afar.

"About him. About whether or not he could be who you wanted him to be— who Zeus wanted him to be— a Hero."

He folded his arms across his chest. "That was long ago. And…" he paused, looking down, too, at the boy who stood in the center of those flames. "...it doesn't really matter anymore."

"Oh? And why is that? Personally, I think it does. In fact, my answer is right here."

He hummed. "So I was right, then. How cynical of you. No wonder—"

"Hardly. You misunderstand."

He never looked back at her, merely content with gazing at the scene unfold— of the boy fighting on, but he knew that the boy had already blown his chances. "Have I?"

She didn't respond for a while and so he was content in that silence. But, almost as if curiosity got the better of him, he looked back up at her. And when his golden-orange eyes fell upon her, his jaw nearly dropped.

"Look closer, would you? Not only at him and not only at Loki familia but also the others." She paused, allowing him to register her words. "The world doesn't need a Hero, Hermes."

But he recovered just as fast and his mouth closed with an audible snap of his jaw.

"It needs People."

He watched as she spread out her arms as if telling him to look, and he did.

"People… who are strong and resilient and driven and courageous and unyielding…"

And he did as she told him to do. He stepped closer to the edge of the wall, peering down at all of those people: the Ganesha familia who worked so hard to keep the crowd from going completely crazy; the healers from all of the different familias that have banded together to help those caught in the crossfire and the collapsing buildings; the adventurers from all of the different familias that carried those injured people; and even the citizens themselves as they watched on, holding those close to them and protecting the young and the old and the frail.

"...but also People who are flawed: some who are prideful and disillusioned about themselves, or greedy for things that they do not need, or envious of others who have more than them, or lustful of the things they don't deserve, or gluttonous of the things that'll ultimately hurt them, or wrathful of people that are different than them, or afflicted with sloth and sometimes can't find it within themselves to do something even when they desperately want to…"

He looked back at her and he looked into her eyes— those deep, crystalline, violet eyes that were like a kaleidoscope: showing him the picture of all of those People.

But, even still, they looked so sad, staring into some far-away place as if she were searching for something.

"I should know."

As if she were longing for something.

"People who are ultimately flawed and make mistakes and have to struggle to make up for their mistakes and even then might not even forgive themselves."

Almost like…

"People who are imperfect, by design…"

…like these were words she wanted to hear…

"...and though seemingly ugly and distasteful and worthy of contempt…"

…from someone special—

"... that is who they are: imperfect… yet so, very beautiful…"

—from someone who she wanted to love her.

He could see the inkling of tears that welled up in her eyes, making those violet eyes shine even brighter. She smiled, though it was a sad smile— one that was so, very broken and alone.

"Aren't they just so breathtaking?"

She lifted her head up from where she had it nestled in her arms, peering down at the ground below where she saw the boy and all the others fighting. She watched as they attacked him all at once, trying to subdue him, but he fought back just as hard— as if his life depended on it.

But she could see it— the way that that black mist that had polluted his beautifully clear soul surged and twisted and swirled around. It spread itself out like water filling a basin, yet, just like water in a basin, she knew that it was not truly free.

It was trying to break free but it couldn't. It would remain trapped there because that was its destiny— that was always its destiny. No matter what, it would never be able to be something more.

But that had always been something she wondered about. What happens if, one day, it did? Perhaps through a crack in the seams, would it spill out like water and fall until there was nothing left? What would happen then?— when there's nothing left?

Oh, but she already knows the answer to that question, doesn't she?

Which is why she was content with watching it hopelessly flounder around inside and never come out because she was scared of what would happen if it did.

They would most certainly lose it all— lose themselves.

Yet, perhaps even if it was broken, it could always be repaired. Like a vase, perhaps, by patching up the hole… but, maybe something more organic— not something that wasn't living— because they were living. It would be patched up but not because someone forcibly plugged up the hole but because it healed— wounds, that heal, in time.

And then she wondered if after it had healed if it would be possible to fill it back up again. Or, rather, what it would take to be able to fill it back up again… and how she was able to do it.

Her silver eyes went up the sky, away from the battle. She peered into those clouds as if searching for something.

"Hey, do you think I could do it too…? Fix it…? And fill it back up again…?"

Only silence and the howling of the wind replied to her, and she shut her eyes, pressing her lips into a fine line.

"I guess you can't hear me… and even if you did, why would you bother answering, anyway?"

She allowed her head to drop back into her arms and she tucked her knees tighter to her chest.

"You don't know it, but I've caused you more harm than good. And even saying 'I'm sorry', now feels so empty and so worthless."

She peered down onto the battle once more and saw the battle as it drew to a close. Her eyes narrowed into slits, as they were thin, sharp blades.

"You can do it, Bell. Not because I want or need you to win, but because she needs you to. Do it for her."

Her lips curled into a light smile, but it was one of melancholy. She watched, finally, as if she had jinxed herself— no, the world— no, him— as that grey broke free like the miraculous winds of a baby bird breaking out of its shell already knowing how to fly— an anomaly that was never meant to happen.

"They are all eggs that were never meant to be hatched."

His white hair billowed in the wind. The scarlet fire that raged around him seemed to mere cinders now— so far removed from the glorious flame that caused too much destruction and anguish and held so much hatred… for the world or maybe for something else.

"It's a mistake that should have never happened, and yet something that I can't take my eyes off of. So cynical. Me. This World."

She watched as he faced the sky— no— the girl as if he had already made his choice.

"But now that you have been born, then there is no reason for you not to spread your wings."

She raised her arm, pressing her fingers together, ready to snap them and issue her order when she saw out of the corner of her eye the girl walking in the shadows. And so, she stopped herself, and she gazed back at the boy.

"So, you're just like us Bell… but, I think… unlike us, you'll be just fine."

Turning away from the fight, she laid back on the ceiling of the building, gazing at the clouds and the stars.

"This'll only just be another hurdle for you to overcome, while, for us, it's like an immovable mountain. What lies on the other side? I'm not sure… and perhaps I don't want to find out, either."

As if lightning had struck the hearts of six people simultaneously, all of them jerked up in unison.

Blazing, scarlet red. Striking, stormy grey. Soft, baby blue. Deep, sea green. Clear, sky blue. Glowing, rich amber.

They all turned, as if possessed or as if like puppets, to the boy, whose hair as white as freshly fallen snow billowed in the wind. And to the girl, whose golden hair swayed behind her. And to the silver rapier that she held in her hands, poised to strike the boy down.

And, at that moment, all of them shivered and knew, deep down, almost instinctively, that their years-long search had bore fruit.

He was one of them.

And, in unison, they all lunged forward toward their target.

The blade drew closer and closer, towards him— his face— between his eyes.

That silver… it was so beautiful in the moonlight… that as he watched the girl's resolute eyes and the way she thrust that rapier forward, he thought to himself:

"I want to die… living… and dying… a good death…"

Closer. And closer. And closer.

Until it was a mere millimetre away— a hairbreadth— so close that he swore he could already feel the tingling of the cold steep pierce his head.

And then, another sword— just as pretty— with the most elegant design of a meandering dragon— entered his field of vision.

In the next instant, he saw a long mane of dark brown hair with streaks of crimson and he nearly fell back, stumbling before regaining his balance.

"What is—!?"

He felt someone behind him, and he nearly snapped his neck trying to look over his shoulder. But by the time he registered anything, he was surrounded by darkness, feeling a tug on the hood of his cloak.

He tumbled against the nonexistent ground for a solid few moments, trying to stop his momentum to no avail. He felt like he was falling down some absurdly deep hole, with no end in sight—

And then, he reappeared back into the world and he landed in the soft snow with a crunch. A grunt escaped him as he lay there, feeling the cold snow bite into his skin.

Sitting up with another grunt, he let out a puff of smoke as he looked around, trying to find out where he was—

"Hey there."

Nearly flinching, he hopped up onto his feet, turning to the sound of the voice, ready to draw his weapon, only to realize that he didn't have it. He grimaced and looked up, peering into the snowstorm, trying to figure out who was there.

And then, he saw it. Before him, there was a small, scraggly stone statue— an unkempt one that had clearly seen better days. It was supposed to be what looked like a child, but the face was disfigured and part of its left arm was missing. Nonetheless, in its right arm, it held onto something. It was pointy and also jagged— whether by design or due to the lack of maintenance— but it looked oddly like what you would expect a thunderbolt to look like.

The girl sat atop it with her legs dangling off to the side. She kicked them back and forth as if she were a child. With her chin nestled in her palms, she gave the boy a smile.

And he looked into those deep, violet eyes, entranced by their colour… yet, he could help but notice how the edges of her eyes were red. Almost like she had been—

"Nice to see you again."

Steel clashed with steel, sending sparks flying, illuminating the two fighters in the snowstorm.

Her golden hair fluttered behind her as she lunged forward with a thrust. But her attack was easily deflected, parried and knocked aside, opening the stance for a counterattack.

Ais retreated her blade, blocking the upwards slash. Taking a step back, she brought Desperate across to block another blow that came her way. Then another step back and she parried a lightning-fast thrust. And finally, another, ducking under a horizontal swipe.

Another strike came— a diagonal strike that buzzed in the air in front of her— but she was already out of range and the attack grazed past, only just barely scraping against the point of Desperate.

She let out a puff of smoke as she crouched low, holding her rapier out in a longer stance, trying to keep the swordswoman at a distance.

But, it seemed like she had no intention of continuing.

Even still, the battle around her raged on.

The two Werewolves traded blows. The Vanargand, with a massive roundhouse kick, slammed the heavy-plated Flosvirt against his opponent, who took the attack head-on. And the force of the kick sent him backwards— as well as blowing away his arm— no doubt breaking something.

Nonetheless, he only sneered, and was already on the offensive in the next instant, counterattacking with increasing tempo with each new strike. Even still, the adventurer was capable of keeping pace, but the attacks were tricky and they came when Bete least expected them.

With a feint, Remus got in closer, breaking past Bete's solid defenses. Then, sidestepping a counterattack, he stepped forward with a quick jab— yet a powerful jab, nonetheless— which sent his opponent reeling backwards.

Both retreated a few steps, shaking off their aching legs and arms before raising their guards, preparing to clash again.

A few meters away, the Chienthrope exchanged blows with the Jormungand. Even with the Amazon's superior close-range weapons, the beast person's incredible agility kept her out of danger from her opponent's kukri knives. All the while, she nimbly repositioned her polearm, ready to attack whenever the opportunity presented itself.

But the seasoned adventurer and fighter knew better than to let her opponent leverage her spear to keep her at a distance and she charged in whenever the Chienthrope looked like she was trying to get away, pressing forward with attack after attack, but finding that none of them could truly deal a winning blow.

Their battle continued, playing an annoying game of cat-and-mouse.

Standing upright with his bow and arrow slung over his shoulder— as if he knew nothing bad would happen— the hooded marksman met the Dwarf's gaze. Stormy grey and chestnut brown met, and while neither of the two made an attempt to lift their weapons or to attack, a high-speed battle took place in their minds, with either side trying to come out on top.

It was an unending battle that continued on repeat over and over again. Sometimes, the Dwarf bested his adversary; other times, he lost and had to learn to adapt to his opponent's moves to start to win again; and rarer times, they both lost.

"I want everyone to calm down!"

It was when the Pallum's voice— so strong and commanding— registered in their ears did their battle finally cease.

"You guys." The Vanargand growled, but the Pallum standing next to him stepped forward, quickly stifling his aggression.

"I want everyone to stop." He said, lowering his spear, "as an order from the Guild and as to be enforced by Loki familia, we will take in the boy, Bell Cranel, to be interrogated." He felt his grip tighten on the shaft of his spear. "We will conduct an investigation on the cause of the incident…" he gestured behind him, to the rubble and the destruction— the collapsed buildings, the small little carts and trees that were still ablaze even with so many adventurers trying to put out the fires. "...a thorough investigation before a decision is ultimately made." He paused, now, and then, as if musing to himself; "something like this isn't natural."

The swordswoman did not respond, neither did the Werewolf nor the Chienthrope nor the Renart nor the Pallum nor the longbowman.

"I'm not sure as to what your affiliation with him is, and quite frankly, I don't care. To ensure that we, Loki familia, can complete our part of the mission, I propose an ultimatum," Finn said as he shut his eyes, sighing a deep breath. "All I ask is that by tomorrow midnight that he be in Guild custody. Whether he'll be in major trouble I cannot foresee."

He looked to the other Pallum, meeting her eyes, yet he could not discern anything from them— like a cold mask.

"He may very well be pardoned for the damages he's caused, though I would predict that that's unlikely. He may be punished. How severe? I cannot say, but it is true that the crimes he is suspected of committing are severe." He pressed his lips into a fine line. "But I do concede that the loss of Hestia familia is already a great deal of punishment for him."

There was silence. It was an intolerable silence and the Amazon and Werewolf who stood behind the Pallum flexed their muscles as if ready to start fighting anew. It took the Pallum and the Dwarf both to hold them back from doing anything rash.

Then, finally, the silence was broken by the other Pallum. Finn narrowed his gaze all the while as she spoke.

"Tomorrow. Midnight. He shall be handed over to the Guild." The group lowered their weapons, returning them to their sheathes. "But tonight, he rests. And I assume you will need it, too."

Then, as if everything had been accounted for, the group began departing, trudging first into the snowstorm and then into the shadows from whence they came, leaving only their footprints in the snow and the memory of their deal in the minds of those who were close enough to behold their agreement.

Finn watched them go, as did the rest. When they were out of sight and presumably out of earshot, Tione raised her voice.

"Captain…" she began but was cut off by the Pallum with a hand.

"It's alright." He rubbed his face as he let his shoulders fall. "I'm still not sure who or what they are, and they certainly are people that could pose a threat to us, but I don't think they're inherently evil or here to cause problems— certainly nothing affiliated with Evilus, that much I can tell." He wagged his thumb in the air.

He turned to face all of them and they all took that as a signal to return their weapons to their sheathes. They did as they were expected to and stood on guard, waiting for their Captain's next orders.

They watched as he shrugged. "More like being someplace at the wrong time or a conflict of interest, I suppose. Though I do wonder what their connection to young Cranel is. Or mayhaps they are upstanders of justice and are saddened to see the young man be burdened with due punishment?" He smiled as if trying to reassure his subordinates. "So many questions, but so little time to answer them, and yet I have to answer them anyways."

He nodded, getting into the zone and barking off his orders. "Gareth, I want you to stay here and take my place. Tione, assist Gareth in any way possible and get all of the civilians where they need to be— whether that be home and away from this place or to get medical attention. Bete, run off and go notify Riveria and Lady Loki about the situation."

All three of them nodded in reply. Lastly, he turned to the blonde girl, who stood still as a statue, staring at some far-away place in the snowstorm.

"Ais, you'll be coming with me, since you were in the center of the action all this time. You'll be helping me draft up the report for the Guild along with Shakti. You're also a suspect, so I expect that you will comply with what the Guild says."

He turned, dismissing the three others and beckoned her to him with his finger. "Come on, the night has already been wasted away and I'd rather get some sleep before having to deal with this." He shook his head. "Let's go."

And she stood there for a few moments. She heard his order, but she stared on as if entranced by something through that snow… but it wasn't really anything at all. Then, finally, breaking out of her trance, she turned away, her hair billowing in the wind, following after the Captain.

"Yes, sir."