Special thanks to my fiancé for shattering my reality when I met her.

The Day Reality Shattered

Priscilla Barielle was a woman who respected her heritage, and that was reflected in her mansion's design. Not only was the Vollachian royal emblem plastered on every piece of furniture, but everything was red. Emilia couldn't help but wonder if it was merely Vollachia's preferred color or if it represented their warlike tendencies.

She still couldn't believe that Priscilla had given the Emilia Camp permission to stay overnight. The redhead's hatred of half-elves was quite typical, all things considered.

After all, it wasn't like Emilia's speech had swayed everyone.

"I do not want them here," Priscilla had snarled. "I will not tolerate the presence of a Witch."

"C'mon, Princess," Al had pleaded with her. "Just look at them! They're like…cute, lost puppies."

"That excuse shall not work a third time!" As if to prove her point, she had tossed them a disparaging glance. She had then paused as if listening to something, eventually saying with great reluctance, "However, I shall let them stay. Deep within my soul, a voice is crying out that they remain here, by my side."

He had tilted his head and slowly pointed out, "That sounds kinda like a hallucination, Princess."

She had waved him off. "'Tis the voice of my luck. Therefore, they shall stay." Then, a moment later, "And it's not because they look like puppies!"

She had demanded they leave by morning before turning on her heel and marching into her quarters. However, the morning came and went; instead of gracefully showing them the exit, Al found himself staring down three furious women who were demanding either answers or his blood. Perhaps both.

Emilia didn't view herself as a vengeful person, but Al was potentially a Sin Archbishop of the Witch's Cult. To Emilia, he was another villain, just like Capella or Regulus. She eyed him like a hawk as if daring him to make a single wrong move. The moment he did, she would unleash the full might of the Witch of Frost.

He had hurt the man she loved, and that was inexcusable.

Rem gripped her flail as she glared at Al, and Emilia could have sworn her icy-blue eyes were glowing with rage. She knew the maid cared about Subaru but was surprised at the extent. Then again, there were a few instances where Rem looked at Subaru for a bit too long…

Emilia shook her head to clear it. She had enough competition over her boyfriend to add a cute maid to the equation, but it wasn't the time to think of her messy love life.

Then there was Beatrice: the girl whose reason to live was Subaru. The poor child was as devastated as Emilia—perhaps even more so—when Subaru was hurt and needed to be physically restrained to stop her from attacking Al. Still, that didn't prevent her from threatening the man all throughout the night. It was unknown if Al received a wink of sleep while under the watchful eye of a vengeful Beatrice.

She was a Great Spirit. If she needed to go a night without rest to protect her precious contractor, so be it.

Currently, she was hovering a shadow spear in the one place a man does not want to be risked, and it was clear that Al was painfully aware of it. It inched ever closer and sweat dribbled down his neck. She was tempted to let it go purely out of spite.

Subaru, on the other hand, was happily shoving his head in the space between Emilia and Rem's necks, chatting incessantly. He was blabbering to Al about "ahnimay" and "monguh," whatever those meant. Emilia knew he was in a good mood because of her…enthusiastic greeting that morning, but this was borderline insanity.

Once again, it was up to Emilia to rein in her knight. She cleared her throat, causing Subaru and Al to look at her, though Beatrice and Rem didn't move at all.

"I believe we have some things to discuss," she said, barely maintaining her diplomatic façade.

Subaru kept smiling. "I know you're upset—"

"That's one way to phrase it."

"—but I'm excited, you know?" He indicated to Al and said, "He and I…We're from the same place."

Her mouth dried up. Subaru never talked about his home. She knew nothing about his life before they met, but the memories clearly hurt him.

She wanted to know more. Where was this mysterious place? What was it like? What was his family like? Did he look like his parents? Did he get along with his siblings? Did he have siblings?

She knew none of these things. Whenever the topic was brought up, he looked…lonely. Guilty. Homesick. She loathed the way he crumpled in on himself when the topic of his family or homeland was brought up.

They often had nightmares about their past. Back at the mansion, they'd make their way to each other's rooms—Subaru had adjusted Door Crossing so she could enter the Forbidden Library whenever she wanted—and simply…talked. Sometimes they spoke about her discrimination as a half-elf, Geuse's descent into insanity, or Fortuna's gruesome death. Sometimes, they talked about Subaru's life as the Sage or tried to figure out the messy circumstances of their relationship. Sometimes, he vaguely referenced a child that he viewed as his own, but everything went wrong. He couldn't say more, apparently, but the mere thought of her seemed to hurt him like Shaula did.

But once, out of nowhere, he had said, "I miss them."

"Who?" Emilia had asked gently, stroking the back of his hand with her thumb. She had absentmindedly wiped off some of her tears as she awaited his response.

"My parents," he had whispered. "I never realized how much I took them for granted until I had a life without them."

He wouldn't tell her what it meant.

Not couldn't. Wouldn't.

The day they met, he had told her that his homeland was an unreachable island to the east, saying, "Once you're summoned here, you can't go back alive." It was the first time she truly realized how much pain he was in, and how hard he tried to mask it with a smile.

Perhaps it would be okay to let him and Al converse for a little while longer.

Beatrice seemed to disagree. "We can discuss your homeland later, I suppose," she ground out. "My contractor almost died, and this Cultist caused it, in fact."

Al gave a sigh of annoyance. "Dude, I'm not a Cultist."

"But you're involved in Subaru's pain," Rem hissed. Mana sparked around her as she barely prevented her horn from coming out. "Am I correct?"

He scratched the back of his neck. "I mean, maybe?" he said, a bit sheepishly. "This hasn't ever happened before."

Emilia took a deep breath as her frustration returned. "I don't understand what's going on," she admitted, "so why don't you tell us what happened? From your perspective, that is."

He was quiet for a moment as he sorted through his thoughts. "We were fighting," he explained slowly. "I was about to lose, so my power activated, sending me back to before the fight started."

Her breath hitched. Such a foe would be impossible to defeat. In an effort to distract herself from the implications, she asked, "How did Subaru get hurt?"

"I don't fully understand," Al admitted. "I'm normally the only person who remembers…"

'Meaning he can identify our attack patterns and come up with the perfect strategy,' she realized. 'To battle him is an exercise in futility…and we wouldn't even know it.'

She couldn't decide whether to be impressed or horrified. Such a monstrous, terrifying power.

"…but for some reason," Al was saying, "Subaru saw it all."

Subaru nodded. "I have a theory as to why, but they're somewhat nebulous."

"Fancy way to say you have a secret and can't tell me," Al quipped.

"No idea what you're talking about," Subaru said airily, fooling nobody.

They couldn't see it, but Al gave off the distinct impression that he was rolling his eyes underneath his helmet. "At least give us your 'theory.' Can't just leave a bro hanging like that."

Subaru's eyes flicked to Emilia: a silent request from a knight to his liege. Normally, she would have laughed off such a request—he could do whatever he wanted, after all—but this was a precarious situation.

She inclined her head as her face said it all. "I trust your judgment. You take the reins."

His request granted, he carefully said, "Your ability has a similar origin to mine, and they don't play well together."

At that, Al's entire demeanor shifted. "So, the thing we were talking about before…You think I actually…"

At Subaru's nod of confirmation, the armored man let go of all levity. Greatly disturbed, Al said, "So, I have a Witch Factor…After discovering my ability, I had my suspicions about it but had no confirmation. Or maybe she—"

He held out his hand, clenching and unclenching his fist. He gave off the distinct aura of a man who suddenly despised his own body above all else. "Perhaps I was merely in denial," he muttered bitterly.

As if unsure of what to do from then on out, he asked, "What Authority did you use? Greed or Lust?" At Subaru's raised eyebrows, he pointed out, "Your Camp killed those two Archbishops, and you're the one leading the conversation. Clearly, you're the one who bears the Authorities."

Subaru couldn't fault that logic, so he confirmed, "Greed. It lets me take on the burdens of my allies."

Normally, Al would make a joke like, "Aw, you view me as an ally? I'm touched." Instead, he continued looking down at himself with disdain.

"I see," he murmured distantly. "Our Authorities clashed and mine won."

"You can certainly think of it that way," Subaru conceded. "They say that all sins are born from pride. It's only natural that it would hold some jurisdiction over the others."

They let that sink in for a moment. Judging from the flow of the conversation, it seemed they were only half-correct about Al; he had a Witch Factor but wasn't a Cultist. So, that begged the question: "Why were we fighting?" Cocking her head, Emilia pointed out, "You two seem to get along reeaally well."

Subaru jumped in, quickly saying, "It's my fault. I thought he was Pride, so I attacked him."

"But you were using Cor Leonis," she reminded him, "meaning one of us was fighting."

'And Rem tried attacking him while Beatrice and I went to heal you,' was left unsaid.

Emilia didn't want to blame Rem. She liked Rem.

Rem, however, hated herself with a passion.

"I'm sorry!" Rem cried out. She shook slightly as her eyes glistened with unshed tears. "It was me, wasn't it? I'm the only one impulsive enough to attack you from a misunderstanding! Because of that, Subaru was—"

Al held his hands out in a placating gesture, quickly saying, "Hey, none of that. I treated the situation far too lightly, didn't flat-out deny your accusation, and said some things that sounded terrible without context." He reached out to pat her shoulder before pulling his arm back as if realizing that could only end in disaster. "I talked about someone I shouldn't know, and you thought I was a stalker."

Rem clenched her fists, though her anger was directed solely inwards. "That doesn't matter," she insisted. "Subaru has taught me that sometimes, people know things they shouldn't, but that doesn't make them evil."

She took a shuddering breath before meeting Al's eyes, whispering, "From the bottom of my heart, I'm sorry."

Al was quiet for a moment before chuckling. "It's so strange," he mused, "seeing Ram's face with such a gentle demeanor."

Her eyes widened as she tensed, but her flail did not appear in her hands. "You know Sister?" she asked lowly.

He leaned back, drowning in memories. "It felt like so long ago," he murmured, uncharacteristically serious. "Only two years, but time has no meaning when facing a monster such as her."

Rem's eyes grew cold, but she did not attack. "Sister is not a monster."

He tilted his head as he quietly asked, "Who said I was talking about Ram?"

She furrowed her eyebrows, asking, "Then who?"

The room grew cold as if preparing itself for the utterance of such a wretched name. With revulsion, Al spoke:

"Pandora."

Emilia clenched her fists as hate—cold, burning hatred—flowed through her. She knew that Witch was still alive, but to hear that dreadful name…

Lost in an unthinkable past, Al was unaware of Emilia's tumultuous thoughts. "The battle was a thousand to one," he reminisced. "Our side had everything: the demon tribe of the mountains, the Divine Generals of Vollachia, the war monks of Gusteko, the King's selection of the Lugunican Royal Guard, and our leader."

He took a rattling breath, echoing around in his helmet and passing over them like the ghosts of the battlefield. "Standing opposite our army was a beast in human form. Bearing a smile to seduce the divine and a form to make the devil tremble, she decimated our armies with childlike glee."

They could not see his eyes, but they knew that unspeakable grief would reflect off them. "When one of our men fell, she would resurrect them as a mindless soldier for her cause. That day, I lost every one of my brothers, twice; many by my own hand.

"After only an hour of fighting, our forces whittled down to me…and our leader." He clenched his fists, saying, "She was the youngest of us at only sixteen, but we would follow her unconditionally, for she was the incarnation of our god."

"God?" Rem asked, her face pale. "You mean like the Oni God?"

"I know of no other gods that still live in this world," he said wryly. "Then again, there are the four Great Spirits and the Od Laguna, but they never took as active a role as the Oni God."

"But the Oni God has been missing for centuries," she pointed out, "and it was worshipped by an extinct tribe. What you're saying isn't possible."

"You can believe what you want," he said dismissively, but there was an undercurrent of frustration hiding within. "I was there. I lived through it. I struck down the reanimated corpse of my best friend. I'd say that battle was pretty damn real."

At that, Rem had nothing to say.

"Our god struck down that thing with ease," he continued, "but it refused to stay dead. Her Authority of Vainglory allowed her to rewrite reality as she saw fit, even after she had died."

Emilia had seen that power first-hand. "Die," she had said in a flat voice as the ice raged around her. In the end, Pandora merely stood there, as she had never perished.

"Eventually, her power waned," Al was saying. "Her Authority requires both will and concentration, and if either faltered, she couldn't use it." They could hear a smirk in his voice. "No one could face down an angry Ram and feel anything but disheartened."

Rem narrowed her eyes but did not attack. "Enough games," she said angrily. "I've been with Sister since the day we were born. She and I have worked for Lord Roswaal since we were twelve, and she's led no such army. None of this happened!"

"You're right," he conceded, completely unapologetic. "It didn't happen. Not one bit of it."

Her flail did not appear, but she inched closer as if daring him to reveal his true colors. "You admit to lying?" she asked dangerously. He shook his head, so her anger intensified. "You're making no sense! What are you saying?!"

His voice was flat as he told her, "Two years ago, you didn't exist."

Her entire body shook in anger, but her weapon did not manifest itself. She couldn't attack, wouldn't attack. That would just hurt Subaru.

Unwilling to act nor process the sheer ridiculousness of what she was hearing, she grabbed her face in her hands and let out a sound of frustration. A single tear rolled down her cheek. Then another, and yet another. Soon, she began to cry for the first time in years.

A moment later, her eyes widened as a pair of warm arms surrounded her. She couldn't remember the last time she had been hugged by anyone but her sister, and even that was somewhat rare.

"It's okay, Rem," Subaru said softly into her ear. "We're all right here. Just hear him out, okay?"

She half-heartedly tried to wriggle out of his grip. "He's spreading lies about Sister!" she cried as a decade of pain rolled down her cheeks. "She did nothing wrong! She fought so hard to save our village, and he's claiming that none of that happened! Sister is Sister, not the Oni God! She's…She's just my…"

He tucked her into his chest and allowed her to break down. 'She'd never opened up to anyone in this timeline,' he realized.

He now understood why he once died for merely mentioning Ram.

"All of that did happen," he assured her. "But the stuff Al said also happened."

He winced at his pathetic attempt at comfort. It was nothing compared to what she once did for him. This girl—this sweet, wonderful young woman—had brought him back from the depths of despair. Her confession was memorized, burned into his soul.

She was the reason he was alive. She was the reason the White Whale and Sloth were killed. She was the reason that Regulus died, Sirius was captured, and the Great Rabbit was defeated. Everything happened because she let him begin anew.

At that moment, holding her in his arms, he felt his Rem, and he felt like the biggest piece of shit. Not because he loved her; that was a distant pang, fading to a fond memory. No, it was because he was looking at her and seeing someone else.

…Or was he?

Her kind heart and unwavering loyalty. Her deft fingers as she accomplished any task with ease and the incredible strength she displayed in battle. Her sensitivity to other people's pain while neglecting her own. The teasing girl who encouraged him to never give up and who protected him with her life.

That was his Rem, but it was also the girl in his arms. Was his Rem…right here this whole time?

As she clung to his chest and let the tears fall, he realized that she was.

'I'm sorry, Rem,' he thought remorsefully. 'I'm sorry for always looking past you, but I promise to never do that again.'

How arrogant he must be to think that his Rem was defined by her love for him. She deserved to be treated better than that.

She sniffled in his arms but appeared to have calmed at his touch. "Neither of you are making any sense," she mumbled impatiently. "Sister was always with me. There was no war."

"You're forgetting something," he said quietly. "We're dealing with Pandora."

At her name, the room seemed to chill.

Authorities were the antithesis of Divine Protections, wreaking havoc on the world and bending it to their will. Each holder of a specific Witch Factor manifested a different Authority, but none were more devastating than those used by the Witches of Sin.

The Authority of Lust, Faceless Bride, dictated the rise and fall of empires.
The Authority of Gluttony, Unending Hunger, drove men to eat themselves.
The Authority of Sloth, Unseen Hand, subdued Volcanica with ease.
The Authority of Greed, Wisdom's Eye, granted the user omniscience if they chose to use it.
The Authority of Wrath, Healing Halo, saved a man while destroying a city.
The Authority of Pride, Divine Retribution, punished sinners for their crimes.
The Authority of Melancholy, Gravity Bind, crushed a target under the weight of a thousand suns.
The Authority of Envy, World's End, brought darkness to the land as millions perished.

Each ability ravaged the land and its people, but all their users were either sealed or killed…except for one.

"To bend reality to your will. To erase your own death. To rewrite history and create a perfect future. To establish absolute control over your foes. If you are bound by the Od Laguna, you are merely the plaything of a monster. Such is the power of Pandora and her Authority of Vainglory, Shatter Reality."

Subaru let that sink in before jerking his head towards Al. "I take it that's what she used against you and Ram?"

Al nodded grimly. "We had her subdued, but, suddenly, I was standing outside a gladiator pit in Vollachia."

He paused for a moment, remembering the shock of waking up in an unfamiliar world. "No one worshipped the Oni God, no one heard of Pandora or Ram, and the demon tribe of the mountains was wiped out. I did some digging and found out that some creep named Roswaal had hired Ram as a maid, as well as a twin that she didn't have before."

Emilia wanted to shout, to cry, to do anything to deny his words, but couldn't. She had seen such power first-hand.

Rem wasn't handling it much better. 'A copy. A blight. A parasite. I exist to ruin Sister's life.'

She always thought that she stole her sister's horn, that she was born to ruin Ram's life. She never realized how right she was until that moment, and it shattered her to pieces.

An inferior, blue-haired version of Ram. That's all she was.

"I thought I was going crazy," Al continued, oblivious to their thoughts. "The only remnants of my old life were my missing arm and the burns on my face, inflicted on me by the corpse of my best friend. With nothing else to do. I became a fighter in the gladiator pit. With the sudden unexplained ability to, you know, not lose a fight, I soon became the top fighter."

Subaru let a wry smile cross his features. "Sounds like someone cheated," he teased, trying to lighten the mood.

"Hey, man, you would use it too, if you had that kind of power," Al shot back, a bit of his typical levity returning.

Subaru gave a pained grimace before covering it up with a smirk.

Beatrice, who had remained quiet up until that moment, spoke up. "Then, how did you get here, I wonder?"

"There was a tournament," Al explained, "and I was a gladiator. I entered on a whim, won, and now I work for Priscilla."

She paused as if waiting for him to continue. Then, incredulously, she asked, "That's it, I wonder? You fight a war alongside a god—one who lives with me—and your story ends with a tournament, I wonder?"

He shook his head. "No, it ends with me working for an adorable Vollachian tsundere."

She groaned in existential pain. "Now you're sounding like Subaru, I suppose!"

Ignoring the spirit's outburst, Subaru put a finger to his chin in thought. "Don't you think it's a bit…convenient?"

Al tilted his head in confusion. "What's convenient?"

"Just that Priscilla…" He cut himself off as the lady herself entered the room with a scowl. "…is a lovely woman who is most generous for letting us stay."

Priscilla ignored Subaru, turned to Al, and kicked the older knight to the floor. He didn't protest. "Why are they still here?" she asked furiously. "They were supposed to be gone before I could see them!"

"You could close your eyes," Al pointed out helpfully from the ground and was promptly assaulted again.

"Lady Priscilla," Subaru interjected, adopting his formal façade. "You are quite the lucky woman, are you not?"

She huffed but answered anyway. "From the day I was born, everything had gone my way, for the world is built to serve me."

He nodded, saying, "I see. So, would you say anything bound by the Od Laguna is subject to your whim?"

"That was in my Royal Selection speech, was it not?" she responded flippantly. "Are you done? Your drivel annoys me."

He looked troubled but wiped it off his face. "Considering everything I've just learned," he said slowly, "I don't think your 'luck' is your own."

She raised her eyebrows, intrigued. "You have my attention, peasant."

His eye twitched but he let the comment slide. "I have this…ability," he said, being careful to not give the actual title, lest she kill him where he stood, "that lets me detect and remove external influences. If you could just let me check—"

A haughty laugh filled the room. "You think I would let a peasant into my mind?" she asked incredulously. "You interest me, but I will not let you sully my essence with your backwater origins. Who knows what kind of perverted intentions you may have?"

"None at all," he assured her. "I'm merely trying to remove a Witch's influence from you."

She stopped short. Disbelievingly, she asked, "You're claiming that the Jealous Witch has taken some kind of interest in me?"

At that, he couldn't help but quip, "The Witch of Envy is obsessed with one person, and it's not you." Then, once again becoming serious, he said, "I'm referring to a much more dangerous entity."

She gasped, thrown off-kilter by such a statement. "Blasphemy," she seethed. "There is nothing more dangerous than the Witch of Envy."

"In terms of raw power, that's true," he conceded. "However, power isn't the only thing to give one an advantage. After all, the Sage defeated the Witch of Envy in single combat."

The occupants of the room jumped a bit. That certainly wasn't part of the history books, but he stated it as fact.

Emilia couldn't help but wonder if Subaru had been downplaying his past self's strength even more than she had originally thought. 'For someone who always wants to impress me, he sure doesn't tell me about all the amazing things he did.'

Oblivious to their reactions, or perhaps uncaring, Subaru continued, saying, "The Witch of Vainglory, on the other hand, roams free. I believe part of her essence resides inside of you, so you should consider accepting my help."

For a moment, it looked like Priscilla would refuse again, but, despite her temper, she was a shrewd woman. "Fine," she grumbled, sitting down on a nearby armchair and crossing her legs with a scowl. "Make it quick, boy."

"Not sure if that's any better than 'peasant,'" he muttered. He turned to Emilia, saying, "I need your help."

She nodded nervously, unsure of what she could do. The kind of power she had used against Pandora…She still hadn't unlocked it. "I don't think I'm strong enough," she admitted quietly, "but I'll do anything you ask."

He sent a small smile her way. "It's nothing extravagant. Just keep me calm, all right?"

She breathed a sigh of relief. He merely needed help maintaining his trance. That was doable. Considering what he might be about to face, she couldn't fault him.

The Authority of Lust, True Face, allowed Subaru to remove outside influences so long as he remained tranquil. It could also remove mental blocks, like the ones on Emilia's memory, as well as bring people to their natural state.

Emilia had been under its effects twice: the first to turn her back into a human, and the second to unlock her past. After that, she felt…different. Older. More mature. Her actions and feelings felt more nuanced. For the first time, she had felt like she fit into her own skin; before that, she was merely a child puppeteering a grown woman's body.

Despite its incredible powers, True Face had its limits; it couldn't bring back Ram's horn, for example. Still, it might be able to remove a Witch Factor, though that was obviously untested.

'Soon,' she reminded herself. 'We'll be able to test it in a few days.'

Still, it was odd; Subaru had no idea how to use True Face in such a way. He had reversed Capella's Authority, yes, but removing a Witch Factor was an entirely different achievement.

"I can do it," he had said confidently. "I'll understand how when the time comes."

He hardly ever boasted in such a manner, but she trusted him. He'd be able to help Juice; she was sure of it.

Subaru knelt before Priscilla, gently grabbing onto her hands. She flinched a bit but didn't let go. "I will do everything I can to avoid your memories," he told her softly. "I won't make a promise I can't keep, but I swear, I won't intentionally peep on something I shouldn't."

She nodded slowly but didn't make a biting remark. Whether it was because she wanted to get it over with as soon as possible or she was beginning to trust him, she didn't know.

Emilia sat beside Subaru as he fell into a trance. Almost immediately, his eye twitched, and she rubbed his back, soothing him.

She could do this. She was always able to calm him down during his panic attacks.

Her sharp eyes noticed his tense shoulders, and she wrapped her arms around him, humming a little tune as she did so. She was an abominable singer, as she was completely tone-deaf. However, humming a simple lullaby that Mother Fortuna used to sing was well within her skill set. Luckily, it fulfilled its purpose, and he relaxed.

A minute passed uneventfully. Beatrice gazed warily at Al; she was willing to cooperate with the man, but the image of her contractor writhing in pain was burned into her mind. Rem was lost in thought, but it was obvious that she was upset. Al was…Well, it wasn't easy to tell what he was feeling with that helmet of his, but it was unlikely that he was thrilled.

The entire time, Emilia didn't take her eyes off Subaru. For the slightest instant, his breath hitched, and she whispered sweet nothings into his ear as she stroked his hair. For a moment, she worried that it would not be enough, but his breathing evened out and a peaceful smile stretched across his lips.

Sometime later, he opened his eyes, suddenly looking worse for wear. "What did you see?" she asked, impatience creeping into her voice. "Did you remove Pandora's influence?"

Instead of answering, he gently placed a hand on her thigh, gratitude in her eyes. "I couldn't have done that without you," he said tiredly. Turning to Priscilla, he ordered, "Play rock-paper-scissors with me."

Priscilla looked at him like he'd gone insane. Slowly, she asked, "You infiltrate my mind in search of a Witch, and now you want to play…a game." At his unrepentant nod, she huffed, aloofly saying, "Sure, why not? Three, two, one!"

She threw scissors. He threw rock.

"Good job," she said drily. "The child has shown that he can make a fist. You can leave my estate now."

Subaru, on the other hand, was grinning; all exhaustion had fled in favor of joy. "This is amazing!" he cried. "I won a game against Priscilla!"

Her face twisted in annoyance. "You're wasting my time, peasant," she said with maximum disdain. Clearly, she had lost interest in him. "Leave. Now."

He shook his head, saying, "Don't you see? I won a luck-based game against the woman of infallible luck!"

For a moment, there was silence. Then, furious that he took away her greatest asset, she aimed a kick at his head—

Only to be stopped by a multi-colored shield.

"If you touch my contractor," Beatrice threatened, hovering a shadow spear at Priscilla's throat, "you will not take another breath, I suppose."

"Back away, child. That peasant," Priscilla spat with twice as much venom as before, "came in here with a crackpot theory, but it was merely a façade to take away my incredible luck! This is political sabotage!"

Subaru looked slightly annoyed at the accusation, but it was rapidly being replaced by rage and fear, for a new fighter had entered the fray. Like a wind chime in a summer breeze, the devil itself spoke:

"My, what a lovely little gathering this is!"

A woman of unspeakable beauty appeared in front of them. Sapphire eyes like the finest of crystals. Porcelain skin like ivory, covered by a thin cloth and nothing more. A delicate figure, to shatter like glass at the slightest touch. Platinum hair, sleek as the moon.

None of them had ever met a beast as hideous as Pandora.

Al drew his sword and adopted a ready position, despite knowing it was in vain. "Begone, monster," he snarled. "You're not welcome in this place."

Pandora smiled innocently. "My dear Aldebaran," she murmured, her gentle voice carried by an unseen wind. "How is your Witch Factor doing?"

His fears confirmed, Al gripped his weapon tighter as if disgusted with his own body. Even so, he said nothing, nor did he make any other movements. Perhaps he was no longer able to.

Her focus turned towards Subaru as her entire demeanor shifted. Her eyes raked his figure up and down, making him shiver. "You look different, my treasured one," she murmured as she gazed at him hungrily. "It's a shame that you still have those nasty, frightening eyes."

With lust unbefitting her stature, she shamelessly announced, "But what those eyes reveal…I could die a happy woman if only I were to lose myself in their depths!"

"You look the same," he shot back. He wanted to push her away, but he was immobilized, just like everyone else. "An abomination in human skin. I can't wait to strangle you with your own intestines."

She lit up at the thought. "Then let us do battle once again, my treasured one! Kill me, slaughter me, take me, make me yours! Show me just how much you love me!"

"I want nothing more than to bash your face in, but there's no use wasting my spirit's mana on a beast that won't stay dead."

The insult seemed to excite her further. She stepped forward with desire in her eyes as she stroked his cheek with a single, dainty finger. With barely concealed terror, he once again experienced the Witch's Touch, this time without his old body to protect him.

Physical contact with Pandora was a harrowing experience. Her cold, spindly fingers danced across his face, scarring him more than Capella's knife ever could. It dug into his skin and assaulted his soul. It crawled into his heart and embedded itself in his memories.

"Get away from me, you freak," he snarled, hating how his voice wavered.

"You wound me, my treasured one," she said with a strange glint in her eyes. "I want to shatter your spine as much as you do mine, but that doesn't mean that we can't have a little fun together."

She tugged on his collar, reveling in the control she possessed. She would give it all up if it meant regaining his affection. "I can be whatever you want," she flirted, batting her eyelashes as she did so. "You like lolis, right? I can be your little sister, your daughter, even your captive. I can be your little plaything, your doll. Bind me, whip me, anything for your lovely soul, my treasured one!"

With her hand around his throat, looking like she wanted nothing more than to strangle him, she said, "Speaking of daughters and their dolls…This action seems familiar, does it not?" She smirked at his flinch, taking pride in her absolute control over his emotions. "That look you gave her, full of glee…You're truly a man after my own heart. Oh, what a pair we used to make!"

His face twisted in utter revulsion—the only physical action he could take aside from speaking. "You're insane," he spat. "To this day, I don't know if you want to murder me or molest me."

Her eyes danced with mirth. "Perhaps a bit of both," she admitted, dragging her index finger down his chest. She drew little circles around his heart as if trying to dig it out and crush it. "Perhaps the proper word is 'subjugate.' I need to make you mine. Your soul…I can't get enough of it. Now that you don't have that former body of yours to get in the way…"

She put on a sultry smile as she confessed her twisted love: "It's intoxicating. Delectable. Exciting. Perhaps, given enough time, I will even forgive you for your transgressions."

"You're delusional," he growled. "I could never forgive a monster like you."

"You will, my treasured one," she said softly, confidently. "One of these times, it will work, and I will make you mine."

He wanted to ask her what she meant by that, but he could no longer speak.

Her attention turned to Emilia, as wonder filled her gaze. Reverence, terror, and need shone from the Witch, as she looked at the half-being before her.

"My, oh, my, you have grown up quite nicely," she said flirtatiously, not permitting a response of any kind. "You were too young for my taste when we last met, my princess, but now…"

She ran her fingers through Emilia's silver hair with parted lips. "Such long, luscious locks," she said softly, trembling with glee. "A lovely, pale face. A lithe, enticing figure, just begging to be devoured. Most importantly, those gorgeous eyes…"

Those eyes were hers to control. They enthralled her, terrified her. Perfect as they were.

The Sorceress and the Sage…Oh, what a joy it would be to finally have them fall into her arms!

However, if she were forced to choose, she knew who she wanted above all else.

"Exquisite skin," she murmured, slowly running her hand up Emilia's side. The half-being couldn't even tremble in fear as she felt the Witch's Touch for the first time. "Soft. Delectable. Is it as sweet as it looks? If only…Ah."

There, above Emilia's bosom. Perfect, exposed, creamy flesh. Hiding a grimace behind a lustful smirk, Pandora laid her ear flush against it, purring like a kitten. "Your heartbeat is a beautiful song," she mewled. She inhaled deeply as if trying to smell the soul within. "You are truly precious, my princess. The love of the world, bequeathed upon this stunning young lady."

From her place on Emilia's chest, Pandora's lidded blue eyes gazed at amethyst as she whimpered, "Don't you see why I must make you mine? Can't you feel my love?"

Her lips began to quiver as tears leaked out of her eyes. She had to know, needed to know…

"Do you taste as good as your other half?"

With a hand laid gently on the half-being's cheek and the other on her waist, Pandora inched her way forward, intent on capturing those pink lips with her own. The soul, the love, her fulfillment, it was so close—

"Don't touch her!"

A Guiding Hand, the same green as the Scorpion's eyes and filled with her indomitable strength, smashed into Pandora's temple. She collapsed to the floor as her skull cracked in two. Her snow-white cloth, covered in her blood and brain matter, splayed about her prone body. Out of sheer spite, a second Guiding Hand fell from above and crushed her abdomen, squashing her flat and sending her intestines flying.

She was dead.

Less than a second later, she appeared before them, whole and healthy. There was no burst of power or spatial distortion. It simply never happened.

Pandora gazed at Subaru in awe and fury, as he had once again managed to break through her Authority. These feelings, deep within her belly…This was the fulfillment she was searching for.

She hated him. She needed him. She loathed him. She loved him.

He was hers, forever.

Before he could attack again, she immobilized him. She would need to focus more if she wanted to keep him restrained. Wrapping her power around him, she guaranteed that he would no longer be able to break free—not as he was now, of course.

Perhaps it was best to satisfy her desires later.

Turning to Priscilla, she gave a gentle smile and relinquished her control over the Vollachian princess. "How wonderful to see you," she greeted kindly, like a mother to her daughter. "You don't remember me, but that's fine. Perhaps I'll let you remember this time. I'm in a good mood, after all."

A sword of divine light—the Yang Sword of Vollachia—appeared in Priscilla's hands. She pointed it at Pandora with a scowl. "I demand that you leave my estate, Witch," she said haughtily. "Your presence is sullying these sacred halls."

Pandora didn't move.

With a mighty swing of the Yang Sword, her head was lopped off. A moment later, she stood whole before them, for she had not been decapitated moments prior. She clucked her tongue, saying, "There's no need for violence, child."

Over and over, Priscilla decapitated the Witch of Vainglory, but the latter's Sin would not allow it. Even with the power of the Yang Sword—the symbol of the rightful ruler of Vollachia—Pandora would not fall.

A dozen attempts later, the Witch smiled slyly. "Are you done?" she asked lightly. "I merely wanted to give you a gift, especially after it was haphazardly thrown away."

"I'll accept no gifts from a Witch," Priscilla said with hatred. She swung her Yang Sword yet again, but before it could connect, it disappeared out of her hands. She tried to hide her panic behind a lofty grin, but none were fooled.

"Oh, but you have," Pandora cooed. "Your so-called luck is merely an illusion. It's simply a piece of my essence guiding you to victory."

Suddenly immobilized, Priscilla could do nothing but scowl and angrily say, "The world is built for my success. 'Tis not the work of a Witch."

"Oh, but it is." With a sly smile, Pandora emphatically said, "How you win every competition. How no one can defy you. How rich men throw themselves at your feet just to die and leave everything to you.

"That's me. Pandora."

Priscilla could find no deceit in those sapphire eyes. At a loss for words, she simply asked, "Why?"

Why give her this power? Why her?

Pandora's expression did not falter. "To make you the queen of course," she said like it was obvious. "You're clearly the best choice."

For a time, Priscilla was silent. Then, with confidence in her voice, she declared:

"I, Priscilla Barielle, hereby withdraw from the Royal Selection."

If the others could have gasped, they would have. Why would Priscilla, the most egotistical candidate, give up her bid to power so easily?

To Al, it was obvious, for they were more alike than they would admit. She wanted to remove all traces of Witches from her life, even if it meant giving up her goals, abilities, and safety.

Unfazed, Pandora told her, "I'm afraid I cannot let that happen."

"And why not?" Priscilla asked with a scowl. "You may prevent my movements, but you cannot control what I say, lest you plan to leave me mute and lame."

Pandora's eyes twinkled. "Is that so?" she asked airily. "I think you misunderstand who you're talking to. I'm the Witch of Vainglory."

Vanagloria. Vanity. Excessive pride. Extreme belief in oneself. One of the forgotten Deadly Sins, said to be the progenitor of Envy.

However, Vainglory used to have another meaning: futility. To struggle in vain against the inevitable.

"If you try to drop out," she said calmly, "I will control you from the inside. Every word, action, and thought will be mine."

She leaned in, inches away from Priscilla's face. With her rapid, shallow breaths causing the princess to tremble in fear and disgust, the Witch said, "If you resist me, I will become you."

Cold, unforgiving lips surrounded Priscilla's, pulling and biting as if trying to tear them off. Pandora's dark essence spewed forth from her writhing tongue, crawling down the redhead's throat. It embedded itself within her wildly pulsating heart and latched onto her soul. Moments after the violation, Pandora vanished, for she had never been there to begin with.

The moment Pandora disappeared, everyone unfroze. Subaru darted to Emilia, wrapping her in a hug as she let the tears fall. Brokenly, she whispered, "S-Subaru, she…"

"I know," he soothed. He didn't want to say it aloud, either. "I'm here now. I'm right here."

She barely managed to nod into his chest before breaking down again. She couldn't stop thinking of the Witch's Touch and those horrid, cold fingers on her skin.

She already had nightmares about Pandora. She didn't need this, too.

She burrowed herself deeper into Subaru's arms, soaking up his warmth. She needed it to drive out the cold. She needed warmth, needed him.

'Breathe,' she told herself. 'In, out. In, out. She's gone. You're okay. Everyone's okay.'

She'd be okay. She was stronger than this. She clenched her eyes shut, letting happy thoughts overwrite the bad ones.

"How do I get it out of my head?" she had once asked Subaru. It was the dead of night and she had made her way into the Forbidden Library, curling up against him in bed as she bawled. "Every time I close my eyes, I see them dying, and I can't do anything about it!"

Half-asleep and partially unaware of his surroundings, he pulled her close and murmured, "Why not think of something else?"

Objectively, it was horrible advice. It was like looking at a burning building and calmly saying, "Put it out." To be fair, he probably thought that he was dreaming—he was typically more soothing—and she didn't have the heart to disturb him further than she already had. So, at a complete loss, she tried to just…think of something else.

…It worked. Eventually, her breathing had evened out and her tears slowed to a crawl. Perhaps thinking happy thoughts really was a valid coping skill, even if it sounded so…simple.

When Mother Fortuna's bloody body appeared in her mind, she thought of all the times the two had cuddled.

When Father Juice absorbed the Witch Factor and went insane, she'd instead remind herself of all the books he gave her and the funny words he taught her to say.

When Pandora brought Regulus and the Black Serpent, she pictured the games she'd play with Arch.

Now, as she relived the Witch's Touch and Pandora's attempted assault, she thought of her first kiss. She thought of the future and what awaited her. Slowly but surely, she began to relax.

As Subaru held her, a soft hand patted his leg, grabbing his attention. He looked down to find Beatrice with sorrow in her eyes. Quietly, the spirit apologized, "Betty is sorry for being useless, I suppose."

"There was nothing you could do," he reminded her gently. "That was part of the Authority of Vainglory. It's futile to struggle against it."

"Subaru still did something, in fact." Her voice was not bitter, nor was it resentful. It was merely a statement. "Betty had never seen a power like that before yesterday, yet you commanded mastery over it while I was immobile, I suppose."

"Miss Beatrice, if I may," interjected Rem. While Pandora did not pay her any mind, she was still shaken by the revelations from earlier. Still, she would keep it together—she had already bothered them enough. "I am not a spiritualist myself, but I happen to know two of them, so I've noticed a few things."

The typical bite was missing, but Beatrice managed a bit of annoyance as she said, "Get on with it, I suppose."

Gently, Rem pointed out, "Spirits and contractors are partners. The spirit often provides the power, yes, but it's just as important that the contractor protects the spirit." She managed a small smile, saying, "It's okay for your Subaru to protect his Betty, right?"

Beatrice was quiet for a moment. At length, she muttered, "Only Bubby, Betty, and her Subaru can use that name, I suppose."

However, she seemed more at ease, and that was enough for the meantime.

Eventually, Emilia pulled back from Subaru with a quiet, "I'm okay."

Caressing her cheek, he asked, "Are you sure? If you want to talk privately, we can—"

She shook her head. "I mean it. I promised to be strong, remember?"

"Yeah, but…are you sure you're okay?" he asked waveringly. It wasn't natural to recover so fast after experiencing the Witch's Touch. Hell, he wasn't sure he was okay, and Pandora didn't even try to kiss him this time.

"Mhm. I'm sure," she affirmed quietly. "This is nothing compared to being turned into a rat. It's just another experience to make me stronger."

He wasn't sure whether to feel impressed at her attitude or horrified at what he had put her through.

He wondered if she was hiding the pain. Perhaps she didn't understand it and was still in shock. What if it just hadn't hit her fully yet? Would he be able to help her through it while he was still struggling?

He knew she wasn't lying and that her emotions were stable—Cor Leonis proved it—but how was she okay while he was still reeling? Was he that pathetic?

As if reading his thoughts, she told him, "My brave knight protected me from a Witch. If anything, I'm feeling magnificent."

"No one talks like that, Emilia-tan."

As he watched her smile at the familiar banter, he couldn't help but marvel at how strong she'd become. She really did keep her promises, didn't she?

Leaning in to whisper in his ear, she admitted, "I'm more worried about you. Are you okay?"

'She made me want to vomit. My body feels cold. I need to wash her disgusting Touch off me or I might break.'

And these strange images that were assaulting him, overwhelming him…There was too much to process, and it was giving him a massive headache.

So, naturally, he assured her, "I'm okay. Nothing that some quality Emilia Therapy won't fix."

She didn't seem to believe him entirely—he hated how well she was able to see through him, especially these last few weeks—but let it slide for now. Biting her lip, as if unsure she wanted to know the answer, she asked, "Back then…did she ever…"

"No," he said strongly. At least, not that far.

In his last life, Pandora had been exceptionally creepy and had most certainly touched him inappropriately, but it wasn't much different to what she had done moments prior. He was fortunate enough to have never had that kind of experience with her. What Echidna had done made physical intimacy hard enough—he didn't know what he'd do if Pandora had forced herself upon him.

"You don't have to worry," he said wryly. "I'm still Subaru Natsuki, Virgin Extraordinaire."

"Good," Emilia said firmly yet quietly. She gave him a quick peck on the lips, reminding him, "After all, I'm supposed to be your first."

He pulled away and coughed, trying to force down the blush on his face. He did not expect to hear something like that, and especially not at that moment. Seriously, who says that right after being molested?!

Then again, maybe that was why she was okay; she had the promise of a positive experience to overwrite a negative one.

To think this was the same girl who, four months ago, thought that kissing made babies. Then again, he had also used True Face on her—along with breaking Pandora's memory seal, it seemed to fix her mental age. She was still the same girl, of course; she was simply better at understanding her feelings.

Well, that, and she now made constant innuendos and was the tiniest bit possessive. He had no idea how to handle that. Last time, he was the one that flirted at inappropriate times, not Emilia!

He would miss his pure, innocent EMT…but damn, he was in love with his flirty Emma.

Subaru and Emilia may have recovered somewhat, but that didn't apply to everyone. On the other side of the room, Priscilla was still reeling from the assault. Not even her ex-husband—disgusting pervert that he was—had tried to violate her in such a way.

Al tried to comfort her, but she shoved him away. She didn't want arms around her, no one could touch her, no one could go near her! She would not be violated anymore!

Violated. Violated. Violated. The word reverberated through her mind as she clenched her fists, her nails digging into her palm. Powerless. Disgust. Dirty. She couldn't move, and those frozen hands, those slimy lips, that thing crawling down her throat…It was wrong, wrong, so wrong. She felt, dirty, unclean, dirty, nasty, despicable, dirty, worthless, VIOLATED—

Priscilla Barielle, the rightful heir to the Vollachian throne, fell to her knees and screamed in rage.

"I want her dead!" she screeched. Her Yang Sword appeared in her hands, for it was no longer being blocked by the Authority of Vainglory. Like a child in a tantrum, she threw it at the wall, embedding it to the hilt. "I will not be controlled! I am Priscilla Barielle, not a Witch's puppet! I want her dead!"

Another image…no, another memory came over Subaru, and he decided to interrupt. "We want her dead, too," he stated. "The Emilia Camp will kill her, but knowing what we know now, it seems we need your help."

Priscilla glared at him with fire in her eyes. "I will never help you," she seethed. "None of this would have happened if you never came here."

He bowed his head. He knew that what he was about to say was cruel, but the end justified the means. "I understand. Ignorance is bliss. I should have left you unaware of your status as the puppet of a Witch." With a long-suffering sigh, he began to leave, saying, "Let's go, everyone. We have more important places to be than at the side of Pandora's plaything."

With raised eyebrows at his terminology, the Emilia Camp followed him without a word, but a reluctant "wait" from Priscilla stopped them. He turned around and raised an eyebrow, asking, "Yes?"

She hesitated before grounding out, "What do you need from me?"

With that, they began to plan.

The Sorceress and the Sage would be avenged.