Special thanks to my wife for editing this story. Need I say more?

…Okay, well, yeah. I probably should. First off, thanks to everyone for the well wishes. It means a ton to me, and a simple author's note can't describe how I feel. Thank you to everyone, and a special shout-out to Sora101 for creating some fantastic fanart as a wedding present. If you haven't read his story, then you're really missing out on one of the best fics of the whole fandom: Re:Zero Hour.

Anyway, I've held on to this chapter for a long time, as it covers a lot of my weak points as a writer. Here we are, dozens of hours of revisions later, and it's still far from perfect. But hey, my wife says that she likes what I wrote, so I'm good with it, too. Kind of. Still not a huge fan of the pacing.

Nonetheless, I hope that you enjoy this chapter. The next one is either really long or really short, depending on how I split it up.

The Great Calamity

Flugel woke up to the sound of a woman screaming.

He never got used to the sound, but he knew exactly what actions to take. He curled onto his side, wrapped his arms around the one who meant the most to him, and whispered into her ear.

"You're safe. I'm right here. It's not your fault. I swear, I'm going to save you. I love you. You're my everything. It's not your fault."

Satella's entire body shook violently, contorting in a struggle she could not cohesively describe. Even when her panic subsided, she was only lucid enough for a few moments, so she used them to say the words that he hated the most.

"Kill me."

He kissed her forehead—ice-cold as always—and pulled her into his chest, stroking her hair as he did so. "You know I won't," he said evenly, lest he break alongside her. "I didn't fall this far just to drag you down with me."

At the reminder, her sobs intensified. She gripped his arms, opening and closing her mouth several times, but she couldn't communicate through her struggle.

Flugel gave a lengthy sigh, counting down from three…two…one…

"Mine they can't take you love you"

He buried his face in her hair, gripping her like a lifeline. He didn't know if things were getting worse or better. On the one hand, she broke through her insanity more often, and the length of her lucidity increased every time. On the other hand, those moments revealed just how miserable she truly was.

All of that was his fault. It was up to him to fix it, this time without hurting anyone else.

He laughed a bit at that. He, a monster, was contemplating pacifism. What a great time to be taking the moral high ground! He felt like a villain making a big show out of their Heel-Face Turn, but it fell flat the moment everyone remembered just how shitty of a person they were about five minutes prior.

What a fucking joke. At least he now knew better than to try and seek forgiveness or understanding—such things were beyond him.

All he could do was atone.

He brought his attention back to the mumbling girl in his arms. He called her "Satella," but it wasn't accurate. Satella was sad and full of love, yes, but she was also determined, excitable, introspective, outgoing, and wise.

But this woman…Something was different about her—even beyond the obvious insanity—and it wasn't difficult to figure out what it was.

This wasn't Satella—at least, not like she used to be. It felt wrong to hold this…this monster close, but he would do it anyway knowing that, somewhere in there, his wife still felt his embrace.

He would bring her back, no matter what.

'That's a promise, Ella.'

For the moment, however, he could do nothing but avert his eyes and tell the Witch of Envy that he loved her.


It had been weeks since everything had gone wrong. Things were now less explosive, sure, but everyone felt like a facsimile of their former selves.

Volcanica's mental state was static, but its loyalty had shifted over to Flugel. He presumed that was a result of him killing all of the Witches, but Volcanica wasn't exactly in the right mental state to answer such a thing. It didn't really matter, honestly—Flugel had already managed to confirm that dragon blood wouldn't fix anything related to a warped soul, so he just told Volcanica to "do whatever you want, really."

The fact that it stuck around was both uncomfortable and strangely heartwarming.

Reid could have gone back home, but he had seen Satella. Something about her had seemed to almost…scare him. Keeping a hand on the pommel of his sword, he had declared, "Imma stay 'ere fer a bit. All ya little fishes are goners without me…an' there's no way'n hell Trisha'd approve o' me ditchin' yer sorry asses."

His eyes didn't leave Satella and her ever-present shadows.

Since then, Flugel hadn't seen much of Reid, but he could have sworn that he saw a figure lurking behind him at times.

As for Geuse…Flugel wasn't sure, but that just meant that Geuse was following orders and staying safe.

The Witch of Envy's hand grabbed onto his face, nearly freezing his skin with her frigid touch alone. She didn't say anything, but he got the message loud and clear.

He wasn't supposed to be thinking of anyone else but her.

He gave a shaky smile and said, "Don't worry; this is very much related to you. I'm thinking of our…ah, future family."

He was so pathetic, acting like he could get back what he had destroyed.

Envy blinked. Her following declaration of love caressed his very soul with shadowy tendrils, but he batted them aside, thoroughly prepared.

Unperturbed, she vanished. He had no idea where she went during those times, and it worried him, but didn't know what to do about it. She wasn't anywhere in the mansion, and he couldn't think of any place that she might want to go. Maybe she just…turned into shadows for a bit? It sounded silly, but it wasn't out of the question. She used yin magic exclusively to feel closer to him, as it was his affinity. Perhaps she merged with the shadows instead of him as a roundabout way to feel his love.

Were it not so morbid, he would have laughed. Since coming to this world, he had learned of all the strange, toxic ways that people showed their "love." Still, while it's certainly something that Envy would do, he doubted that it was the case here. Again, he just…didn't know what to do about it.

Five minutes passed. Envy had not reappeared.

Flugel wrung his hands together. Maybe he could ask Farsale? He shot that down immediately—informing the king could end up hurting Satella in the long run.

He thought about asking Volcanica to go look for her, but that could also backfire. Envy would recognize that Flugel had sent Volcanica, implying a collaborative relationship. It could be like Geuse all over again.

Flugel was stuck…and yet, he couldn't just sit around. It would drive him crazy—at least, crazier than he already was.

"Maybe now's my chance to run an errand," he muttered. "Been meaning to get around to that, anyway."

If the average person knew that he had referred to a meeting with the Od Laguna as "an errand," they might have fainted on the spot.

With a mere thought, Flugel disappeared, finding himself outside of the Pleiades Watchtower. A journey that took months by carriage was completed in less than a second.

He raised his hand with bated breath, intent on pushing the door in. He couldn't do it. Not because it was locked or anything like that. He just…couldn't bring himself to go in. Not yet.

He sighed heavily and turned away, slowly walking around the side of the Tower. The air was thick with miasma, even without Sand Time. Mabeasts converged upon the area, but he batted them aside with ease—he wouldn't let anything stop him from getting to where he needed to be.

At that moment, his destination wasn't the Corridor of Memories, but a simple stone with words engraved upon them. He looked down at it with a heavy heart, letting his eyes trace over the simple glyphs.

Here lies Daphne

It wasn't nearly enough—not to mention utterly plain—but he hadn't exactly been in the right mental state to craft something eloquent.

Now that a bit of time had passed, he…Well, he wasn't exactly doing much better. The stone blurred before his eyes, but he still managed to use earth magic to add:

Beloved daughter, doting mother, and dear friend
May your legacy live on forever

He almost added an "I love you," but he felt that it wouldn't be appropriate for an epitaph. Still, nothing stopped him from saying it aloud.

He kneeled and put his hand on the stone, mumbling words meant for her and her alone.

Of how much she meant to him and how much he loved her. Of how her, Shaula, and Satella were his entire world. Of how he missed her adorable smile whenever he caught her eating something utterly ridiculous. Of how she'd give little presents to Shaula and Satella while saving an extra-special hug for him. Of how sorry he was that everything had turned out this way and how he wished he had taken a different path.

He knew how impossible it was, but he hoped that somehow, at some point, she would know what he said.

He stood up, intent on making his way to the Taygeta Library, but a painfully familiar voice stopped him.

"Master! Master's here, yup!"

He froze. He had planned on avoiding this confrontation for multiple reasons, not the least of which was for her own safety.

Shaula, wearing as bright a smile as always, stood next to her mother's grave without a care in the world.

She rocked back and forth on her heels with her hands clasped behind her back, almost vibrating with excitement. "When Geuse said to stay here for a little while and that someone would come get me when it's time to go home, I thought he meant, like, five minutes, you know? But nope, I got here, and I waited and waited and waited, but no Master or Mother or Other Mother showed up to get me, nope!"

Flugel's mouth dried up. Part of him felt a pang of regret for leaving her here for so long, but it was overshadowed by a grim realization.

Shaula didn't know what had happened.

She was standing over the cold, decaying corpse of her mother, and she didn't even know.

Flugel averted his eyes, eventually landing on Daphne's epitaph. "Do you know where we are right now?"

Shaula struggled to put a mock pout on her face, but she eventually managed it. "I'm not that stupid! At least, I don't think I am? Anyway, we're at Master's Tower, yup!"

Keeping his voice carefully even, he said, "I mean this place specifically. Look down, Shaula."

She complied, her gaze landing on the tombstone before her. Her eyes narrowed as she tried to decipher what was on there. "Sorry, Master, but you still suck at drawing."

Drawing. She thought that the words were a drawing.

He scratched roughly at his arm. "Right…I haven't taught you how to read yet, have I? I wanted to wait until Ella was better so that we could do it together."

He could have done it on his own, sure, but it was the principle of such things.

Shaula stuck her tongue out at him. "I don't need to read, nope! I can do anything I need just fine, yup!"

The expression on her face belied some less-than-innocent implications.

Flugel sighed. "Shaula…you don't really want to do…that stuff with me, do you?"

He wasn't even sure how she knew of certain adult-only behaviors, let alone developed the desire to do it with him of all people. He had semi-seriously blamed Daphne's Gluttony, but there was only so much he could pin on Witch Factors before it became unrealistic.

Shaula put a finger on her chin, looking up to find the answer in the clouds. "Hmm…I mean, it all sounds kinda icky, but it's just how you show that you love your family, right?"

"…What."

"At least, that's what she mumbled about that one time, and she's never been wrong before, nope!"

He was going to kill whoever said that.

Shaula, for her part, wasn't able to give any more information on who "she" was. "She" was just "some sad kid—dunno her name, but she smelled like Other Mother."

'Is it the first vessel?' he wondered. 'Can't be. She's only…what, five? And Shaula's never been to Elior Forest.'

He clenched his fists. Someone had filled Shaula's head with these sick ideas, and he hadn't even been aware of it. He had just blamed Shaula's behavior on Daphne—the one who deserved it the least.

He sighed again. "Shaula…there's lots of ways to show that you love someone."

The fact that he said that next to Daphne's grave did not go unnoticed by him.

"Granted, I've never really understood love, you know? At least, not from a healthy perspective. I'd tier people as my number one or number two—stuff like that." Looking at the stone below him, he said, "I most certainly didn't know how to show love, so I'm not the best person to say this, but…what that person said was wrong. You can show love in so many ways, and throwing yourself at me isn't the way to do it. I'd rather you never acted that way to anyone—honestly, most men in my position would rather keep you locked in some tower, away from perverts like Reid forever. But just…don't act like this with me. Please, especially not with me.

"I created you, Shaula. Me, and…her. You grew up fast, yeah, but for a moment, I got to hold you as a baby. I hadn't realized that anyone could be so small, yet there you were: the most adorable thing I'd ever seen.

"It was the happiest moment of my life."

At that point, he wasn't sure what he was saying, but the words kept flowing on and on. It just felt so good to speak genuinely about something.

He wasn't appeasing a Witch wearing his wife's skin. He wasn't whispering apologies to the Witch Factors that he had violently stolen. He was just speaking from the heart.

…But he shouldn't be, should he? He should be breaking down and confessing his crimes. Shaula deserved to know what had happened.

And yet, looking at the tears in her eyes and her radiant smile, he resolved once more to wait a few more days. She didn't deserve to live in such pain.

She darted forward, giving him his first warm hug in weeks. He almost felt like Subaru again.

He pulled back and wiped at his eyes. "Fuck, I missed that," he said hoarsely. "I really should have come to see you sooner."

She crossed her arms over her chest and pouted. "Well, why didn't you? It's not fair to leave poor Shaula behind, nope! Master is so cruel!"

He didn't rise to her teasing bait. Utterly serious, he said, "I wanted to keep you safe."

Shaula may have originally been sent to the Tower on Satella's request, but now, she was kept away for the same reason that Geuse was.

"You gotta understand, Shaula—things are…weird back home."

Even now, Flugel gave thanks that Geuse had multiple bodies. He had come so close to losing a dear friend.

'As if my actions didn't already drive him away.'

He pursed his lips. "Listen, there's someone that doesn't exactly like it when I'm close to other people."

He saw a thousand swords crafted out of the shadows themselves piercing Geuse from every direction as his bloody skin bubbled and writhed as Envy stood there with a blank expression—

Flugel shivered. "I just…I can't be around people that I care about. If she saw us spending any time together…"

He averted his gaze, unable to look into Shaula's earnest, forest-green eyes any longer. The three red dots in her pupils—signalizing her mabeast heritage—burned bright with a fierce sense of protectiveness. She clenched her fist and held it over her chest.

"Well, I'm not gonna let anyone hurt Master, nope! That's not 'Ay-ohkey' in my book!"

He put on a wavering smile, trying to placate her. Honestly, he was more worried about Shaula than himself. She was stronger than him, yeah, but she still wasn't at Satella's level.

"I'm not in any danger, but you? If Sa—If she saw us together, you'd…Shit, I don't want to think about it."

Even after everything he had seen and done, the mere thought of Shaula's bloody corpse was enough to make him feel like he couldn't breathe.

Shaula shrugged. "Then I'll just stay out of sight. I'm pretty good at watching Master from the shadows, yup."

"Did you just casually admit to stalking me?!"

His first thought was to blame that mystery woman, but Shaula was a weird girl born of even weirder creators.

He scratched at his neck. "I really don't want to risk your life, but you're capable in your own right. It's unfair to keep you locked up in here any longer than you need to be…Sure, you can come home—with a few conditions!" He held up a hand to stave off her cheers, knowing that she wouldn't be happy with what was about to come next. "One: no mentioning 'Other Mother' until I say that it's okay. Two: Don't say that I created you. Three: Whatever you do, do not say that I've ever admitted to loving you, nor can you describe us as being part of any kind of family unit."

She really, really didn't like that. She whined a bunch, but he didn't relent. He even framed it as an order, knowing full well that she could never bring herself to disobey him.

"As I said, it can't seem like I have any attachments."

"But Masteeeer, how can I go about my day without singing your praises? Glory be to Master and all that jazz."

"Who even taught you those phrases?! Look, if it really makes you happy—"

"It does!"

"—which I don't get, but whatever. You can speak positively of me. I just…can't say the same about you."

She shrugged. "So, normal life, then?"

No bitterness or sorrow. Just a fact.

A lump formed in his throat. He wanted to tell her that it wasn't what he wanted their normal dynamic to be and that he did love her. Hell, knowing what he knew now, it might even be in the exact way that she wanted.

He didn't want to be distant anymore. He wanted to spend more time with her. He wanted to make up for the years that he had missed.

But he couldn't say anything. Shaula was already gone. He could barely see her retreating figure on the horizon; she was so fast, she could easily make the month-long trip in a few hours.

Just like that, he was alone again, with only the corpse of his daughter to keep him company.

He sighed and gazed down at the uneven mess of dirt beside him. For a moment, he wondered why Shaula hadn't smelled Daphne there. He then remembered the mabeasts that Daphne had created during her excursions here. Shaula had probably attributed the excess miasma to that.

That was probably why she didn't notice anything different about him, either, or maybe she took the change in stride. She'd say something like, "Master is Master, even if he's really stinky."

Emotionally exhausted, he slid his back down the side of the Tower until he was sitting next to the tombstone. "You know, you'd always tell me about them," he said. "The mabeasts, that is. Remember that, Daph? Whenever you'd create a new species of mabeast, you'd practically skip over to me and gush, but now? Now, I'll never hear it again. It's not like I'm exactly fond of them, but seeing how excited you were was just…It was incredible. You were incredible."

She could have been by his side, holding his hand as she chatted about this and that. Instead, he had used her life as mere insurance that didn't even pan out.

"I can't make excuses. I can't pretend to have changed. But I won't give up, you know? Not just on Ella—"

"Mom comes first."

"…your mom, that is, but on—not even making up for it, 'cause that's not possible, but you know what I'm saying, right? Just because there's not some threshold where the universe comes out and says, 'you're forgiven' doesn't mean that I can't keep trying to make things right."

It was one of the few things driving him forward. At this point, he wasn't even a hundred percent sure that he would kill himself. He wanted to, sure, but things felt different now that he wasn't constantly desperate.

"It's a conundrum, you know? Do I respect a child's last wishes, or do I go with my gut and try to fix what can still be fixed?"

Both options felt hollow, but he knew what Daphne would say in response. She'd say something like, "Flu-Flu should do whatever makes his heart feel full."

"That was you, Daphne. Holding you in my arms was my fulfillment."

He held out his hand, palm up. With a mere thought, the mana in the air coalesced to create a simple life-form: a pink carnation. He gingerly lay it in front of his tombstone before standing up and walking away, forcing himself to not look back.

He made his way to the Taygeta Library. Inside it were the Books of the Dead: a natural result of his communion with the Od Laguna. One such book did not exist naturally, as the person was still alive, but he had forced its creation out of morbid curiosity. Since there was no soul record attached to it, it defaulted to going directly to the Od Laguna. He pulled out the book from the shelf and stared blankly at the spine.

Subaru Natsuki

He hated that name.

He hated "Subaru"—a reminder of who he could have been but had tossed aside.

He hated "Natsuki"—the family that had died and left him on the streets.

He was nothing more than Flugel, yet the Book refused to recognize him as such.

Despite that, it was still his Book, so he opened it up. The world turned white, as his soul was taken to another plane of existence.

He found himself in a grand hallway crafted from an incomprehensibly smooth, marble-esque material, reflecting a light with no source. His footsteps echoed infinitely, yet he heard no sound.

It was the Corridor of Memories—the cradle of the Od Laguna and the birthplace of the universe. Most mortals had never even heard of such a place; those who had typically doubted its existence or thought of it as heaven. Perhaps they were right, as the Od Laguna was worshipped as a god, even more so than Volcanica.

Then there was Flugel.

He planted his feet on the pearly ground, stared dispassionately into the infinite expanse, and said, "Been a little while since we last talked, huh?"

Call him a godless heathen, but in the last month, he had watched multiple calamities of infinite power and durability die to mundane forces. He wasn't exactly feeling reverent of a hallway.

"You know why I'm here," he said. "I fucked up. Satella's developed some kind of dissociative identity disorder, and I pointlessly killed people that I loved."

He wasn't expecting the Od Laguna to just up and fix everything. Surely, even such a powerful being couldn't rewrite the universe, let alone at someone else's whim.

"…But maybe I could get a little advice?"

All of a sudden, dozens of images passed through his mind, all of them pertaining to an incomprehensible substance that he didn't deserve—a terrible thing that Volcanica had claimed belonged to the Sage.

The Witch Factors.

It was basic knowledge of how to use them, but it was all worthless. As he was now, he didn't have a single Authority, as Satella's artificial body prevented that. He'd need a natural body order to have a power like that, and that was only achievable through reincarnation.

In other words, he could only save her if he died.

It felt like a cruel joke; apparently, his Authority of Lust had the potential to remove a Witch Factor, but he couldn't even use it. Even if he could, the Od Laguna made it quite clear that Satella would be unaffected.

It was pointless and anticlimactic. Here he was, talking to God itself, and he wasn't getting any useful information. He was only—

"…What's this?"

Another Authority, this one holding dominion over souls. With it, he most certainly could save Satella. A single power that, under the proper circumstances, had the potential to fix everything.

It pissed him off.

This power came from the one Witch Factor that he didn't possess.

To defeat the Witch of Envy…he needed the Witch Factor of Envy.

His lips formed a thin line. His arms swung languidly at his sides, as he slumped forward a bit.

So, that was how it was going to be.

He turned and left, not even bothering to thank the Od Laguna—it wasn't like the Original Spirit would care, anyway.

But then, another image entered his mind, this one of the Authority of Gluttony. With it came…not quite words, but he knew what was being said.

"Save her. Love her. Understand her. Free her from her suffering."

Flugel clenched his fists and scoffed. "I understand Ella enough to know that deep down, she wants to be saved. You should know this, Oh Omniscient Deity."

"Save the one who has suffered so greatly. Save the one that I cannot bring myself to save."

"Yeah. Will do."

With that, he stomped out of Hall of Gods. He had basically been told that it was impossible to save Satella without dying and coming back.

A cosmic joke. That's what his life had become. The universe itself was pointing at him and laughing at his expense.

Of course, he had no problems with dying. If anything, he was more upset that Satella would have to wait. After all, who knew how long it would take for him to come back?

"There's gotta be another way."

But there wasn't. No one knew more than the one who knew everything.

"Not even you, huh, Dona? I bet that your knowledge came from the Od Laguna itself."

He couldn't hear the Witch Factor through the barrier that was his body, but it sounded like a non-committal hum.

"What about you, Minerva? Think you could've punched the pain away?"

He could imagine her turning up her nose and crossing her arms over her chest, refusing to speak to such an evil man. He couldn't blame her.

Why was he was taking this so calmly. Was he really so jaded? Was he so used to failing, it was expected that he was literally incapable of succeeding?

He wasn't sure. He wasn't feeling much of anything at that point.

He appeared back in the Taygeta Library, holding his own Book of the Dead. Glassy eyes stared at the wall opposite him, as the portal to the afterlife itself clattered to the floor.

What a pathetic, useless existence.

"…You know what? No. Fuck that."

He was sick of being Fate's chew toy. He was tired of listening to people saying to give up or following the ideas of people who had no right to interfere. He was done with being an inept piece of shit.

He didn't care how long it took. He didn't even care if he needed to die to do it. He would save her.

God itself had discouraged him, but that entity had no idea what it meant to love someone.

Subaru did.

He didn't smile, not really, but the determination coursing through him made him feel alive.


A breakthrough came the next day. Well, not really, and it was nothing huge, but it was there in one of Echidna's notebooks.

While one Authority may be more powerful than another, it seems that even the Witch Factors themselves are tiered. I am loath to open the Book of Wisdom for nonessential information such as this, so my observations will have to suffice. You see, Typhon—

A quick note to That Person, who has been deemed worthy of my wealth of forbidden knowledge should I pass on: Typhon is—oh, what am I saying? You already know who she is.

Where was I? Ah, yes. The primary aspect of Typhon's Authority of Pride breaks down the body's composition, whereas Minerva's Authority of Wrath repairs it. When they come to blows, they should—in theory—negate each other, looking like nothing more than mundane punches. However, Typhon shattered Minerva's arms with ease. I can only presume that Pride trumps Wrath, but I cannot say definitively…

It wasn't the most useful information for his current situation, but it was new. He hadn't had new information in years.

He looked over at Satella, who was watching him from the side. Despite her unblinking eyes, the corners of his lips twitched upwards.

Maybe he could allow himself a bit of hope.

Just as he thought that, Satella looked to the side at something behind the wall that only she could see. The shadows rose up around her, covering every inch of her skin. Her dress became one with the darkness, and she vanished.

His smile fell, as his entire body tensed. He didn't know what she did when she left, as she usually came back before he could figure it out or find her. Coupled with her insanity, the whole thing made him nervous. Come to think of it, maybe he could go down to Arlam Village to ask if they've seen her.

A meek voice whispered in his ear, and he managed to decipher her hesitant words. He hummed in acknowledgment.

"That's a good point, Carmilla—I haven't spoken to those villagers in…damn, over a year. For all I know, Ella's just been visiting the kids, and that's what's giving her the strength to fight back against her alter ego."

He nodded to himself, satisfied with his conclusion. It was just like her to find some "power of love" solution, even if it didn't fix the underlying issue.

"But hey, whatever helps her cope is fine with me."

He shut the leather-bound book, tidied up his notes, and teleported to the outskirts of Arlam Village. He meandered through the bramble and brush until a series of simple homes became visible. He saw no sign of Satella, but he didn't see anyone else, either.

"It's kinda quiet, actually—usually there's a bunch of kids running around. Say, Typhon, you didn't…visit here before you died, did you?"

The Witch Factor of Pride shrugged. She knew what he knew and nothing more.

Recognizing a house that he was familiar with, he jogged up and rapped on the door frame, hoping to be greeted by a familiar face.

No answer. The next-door neighbors gave him the same result, as did their neighbors, and theirs as well.

He wiped his sweaty palms on his travel cloak. A thought popped into his mind, but it was quickly squashed down. Some things were just too crazy to consider.

'So says the murderer.'

He pursed his lips and arrived at the home of the village elder—a widow who had always been kind to him. He pounded his fist on the door, calling her name.

To his relief, she opened the door. To his disappointment, she looked terrible. It didn't take an expert in nonverbal communication to see that she was grieving.

Flugel opened his mouth, but his intended greeting didn't come out. "What happened here?"

Her eyes flicked towards his general direction for a moment before training themselves on the floor. In a cracked voice, she whispered, "They're gone."

"Gone? What do you mean, gone?"

Her hands shook. She couldn't bring herself to say it.

The wind was nearly knocked out of him, as he realized what she meant. "They're not…The villagers aren't dead, right?! They're not—"

She didn't nod or shake her head, but she looked like she was about to crumple to the floor from the weight of what she had seen.

His heart plummeted to his stomach. He whirled around, dashing towards one of the nearby homes. He ripped open the door, not bothering to knock.

The father was slumped over in his chair, his eyes wide with terror. The mother was stuck in a silent scream as she held the withered corpse of her son close to her rotting body.

The skeleton of an infant lay in a nearby crib.

Even before he had fully processed the sight, the stench hit him. A terrible mixture of rotted skin, decayed flesh, and feces assaulted him, jerking him back to reality.

He didn't give himself time to mourn. He just ran to the next house, finding the same thing.

Finally, he found someone who still drew breath, but only just.

Flugel grabbed the man—single, living alone—by the collar, shaking him into awareness. "What happened? Why is everyone…Damn it, what happened here?!"

The man's lips trembled in fear, but it wasn't directed towards Subaru. "Gone…All gone…"

"Who? Who did this?!"

"The shadows…All the families…"

Shadows. Family.

"Just thinking about our future family, Ella."

Once again, Flugel ran, but this time, it was to his home.

He found Shaula first. She stubbornly ignored him—as he had requested—so he quickly lifted that order. Short of breath, he asked, "Have you seen Satella?"

Shaula cast her eyes downward, making the pit in his stomach worsen. "Haven't seen her, nope. Not her or Mother."

He carefully ignored that last part, as he ran inside. He searched high and low, but he didn't see Satella.

Eventually, he found himself in the lab, where he heard his title being called out.

"—age! Sage! For the love of the Dragon, just answer!"

Flugel spun around, finding an open communication mirror: a direct contact between him and Farsale Lugunica. He darted forward and fumbled with it, eventually putting the king's visage in his line of sight. After catching his breath, he asked, "H-how long have you been calling me?"

Farsale's ruby eyes widened, clearly having not expected him to answer. "Weeks!" he cried. "Where have you been?!"

"Not in my lab," Flugel said impatiently. He checked the time crystal on the wall despite knowing that it had no bearing on the situation. "Look, I have an emergency I'm dealing with, so—"

"The entire kingdom is in a state of emergency!"

Flugel's breathe became shallow.

"Entire cities are disappearing! People are dying left and right! We've lost millions of people in only a few weeks, and the number keeps increasing!"

"I don't…I don't understand! Who could be—"

…He knew who was doing this, didn't he?

Farsale's gaze pierced directly through Flugel's soul. "There are a few survivors, usually widows or bachelors. It seems that her first few attacks were targeting small children and their parents. They say the monster…no, the Calamity is a silver-haired half-elf with purple eyes."

'No…'

"Sage…what did you do?"

Flugel's hand shook. He did this, didn't he?

"Where is she now?" he asked hoarsely.

Farsale's eyes narrowed. "As I suspected. I warned you, didn't I? First, it would be a criminal. Then, a friend. Finally—"

"Someone I love," Flugel finished. "I know. You warned me. I'm aware that it's my fault."

Farsale's lips pursed, clearly trying not to yell in frustration. "My people are dying because of your folly. Were it anyone else, I would have you executed, but I know better than to play with the powers that be. Nonetheless, I need you to fix this, now."

Flugel bowed his head. "I…I understand. I've been trying to remove her Witch Factor, but…it hasn't been going well."

Farsale paled and leaned back. "Witch Factor," he whispered. "Which…which one?"

"…Envy," Flugel said at length. "Satella has the Witch Factor of Envy."

Farsale's voice shook. "A-and the others? Wrath? Greed? What about your daughter?"

No answer.

"Sage—"

"I need to go," Flugel said flatly. "I'm going to fix this. Where was she last seen?"

"What did you—"

"Answer me!"

Flugel instantly regretted yelling, but he didn't apologize. There were more important things than repairing a semi-professional relationship, even if it was with the king.

"Costuul," Farsale said quietly. "Reports say that she arrived there a few hours ago and that she started traveling east after devouring most of the souls there."

Flugel took a shuddering breath and nodded, feeling like the world was crashing down on him.

His excuses that he had used for sacrificing people didn't apply here, as this wasn't trying to stave off his wife's death. This wasn't hurting a few people that he loved.

Right now, the entire world was at stake. Millions of people had perished, and more would follow if he didn't fix it.

"Fixing it" didn't mean killing himself in some wretched act of self-inflicted retribution. He could still try removing Satella's Witch Factor without an Authority, yes, but he clearly couldn't contain her long enough to discover how. What could he do besides stop her?

Maybe this was what she had been trying to tell him ever since he had given her the Witch Factor—she had been trying to confess what she had done. She had been begging and pleading for him to end her rampage. She wanted him to defeat the Witch of Envy through direct means.

Maybe, to truly save her, he had to grant her wish.

He had thought that his punishment would be suicide, but that wasn't listening to Typhon. It wasn't a punishment; it was giving up.

His real punishment was much, much worse.

In the end…he would be forced to kill Satella.


"You were right to stay, Reid."

Hours had passed. Satella hadn't come back. Flugel wondered how many lives were lost while he waited.

He had approached Reid, who sat himself on the kitchen countertop. With a jolt, Flugel realized that, not too long ago, he had walked in to find Reid in that exact same spot, scooting away from Daphne.

He shook his head to clear it. "I messed up, as you know. I drove Satella mad."

Reid twirled his chopsticks between his fingers, not bothering to look up. "I can tell," he drawled. "Yer bird an' I weren't exactly pals, what with 'er sleepin' all th'time, but even I know tha' she ain't th'type t'kill tha' spirit jus' 'cause th'two've ya were chummy."

Flugel held back a flinch at the reminder. "It's more than that. I thought that her…violent tendencies were constrained to the mansion. I mean, she only disappeared for a few moments at a time, and she didn't see me talking to anyone else, right?"

A rush of air threatened to knock him off his feet. Reid had split the air itself with a single swipe of his chopsticks.

He glared at Flugel. "Ya let a psychopathic Witch outta yer sight, an' you thought she wasn't killin' shit? Yer a dumb cunt, yeah, but even you are better than tha'."

Flugel bowed his head. "I can make all kinds of excuses about Witch Factors messing with my head, but the truth is that I was careless. I viewed her absence as a time that I could actually focus on my research, and not…" He shivered as he thought of the child's rotting corpse. "Reid, this isn't Ella. My wife would never hurt people just because they're part of a family unit."

Quick as lightning, Reid's head shot up. His eyes narrowed dangerously. "'A family unit,'" he echoed. "So, if she sees a ma an' 'er brat, she'd try t'kill them?"

It hurt like hell, but Flugel nodded. He was done living in denial.

Reid hopped off the counter and stood up, putting his pommel on his sword. "I shoulda went back," he muttered ruefully. "But nah, she's fine, right? Way too stron' fer some Witch."

"Reid, what are you—"

"Get tha' scaly bastard," Reid ordered. "Tha' brat o' yers is stron' too, right? Bring 'er alon'. We're goin' t'Flanders."

"Flanders? She's near Costuul!"

Reid pulled his shoulders back and held his head high. "If ya wan' any chance o' winnin', yer gonna need me, an' I won't do shit until we go t'Flanders."

Flugel swallowed what little pride he had left and nodded—Reid would indeed be invaluable. "All right, fine. Just make it quick. If we don't hurry, then—"

"Don't bother with a grand speech 'bout goin' quick 'cause a buncha cunts are dyin' every second. 's not like ya care, y'know? Yer a killer, jus' like me."

"I'm nothing like you."

Reid gave a half-hearted smirk. "Yer right. I stick t'my ideals. Yours change every damn week, an' I can't keep up with it."

Flugel bristled but didn't deny it. "Mental stability isn't my forte. I just do what I feel like I'm supposed to at that moment."

"I can tell," Reid drawled, "but at least ya got yer number one. On tha' end, we can relate."

Flugel raised an eyebrow. "Is your number one…yourself?"

"Shut yer mouth an' take me t'Flanders, ya cunt."


Flugel, Reid, Shaula, and Volcanica arrived outside of a small home—more of a hut, actually. The clouds above were dark and turbulent, but the dwelling itself seemed almost…homey. It even had puffs of smoke coming out of a small chimney.

Reid stepped forward and faced the house, spreading his arms wide. "Ah…home, sweet home. I betcha twats thought I lived in a mansion or some shit, but nope. Got ourselves a nice little place."

Flugel had thought that Reid lived in taverns and brothels, so this was quite the improvement.

"Imma go in first. You guys…wait over there. Don't wanna give 'er the wron' impression, ya know?"

He looked at Shaula as he said that, causing Flugel to snort. "I'm pretty sure your mom will instantly be able to tell that Shaula has zero interest in you."

Case in point, the fact that she was basically hanging off of her "Master."

Reid barked out a laugh. "Hah! Ya little fishes think tha' Reid Astrea lives with his wee mommy! Buncha cunts, I swear!"

With that, he opened the door and strode inside, cheerily announcing his arrival.

A few seconds passed, but Flugel was already feeling impatient. He looked to Shaula, who was blissfully oblivious to the ongoing Calamity. He looked to Volcanica, who was staring off into space. With nothing to do but go inside, he—

"Reid, you insufferable bastard!"

With a scream of rage following him, Reid was thrown out of the house and onto his back. The sheer force of the impact formed a crater around him, but it didn't seem to affect him much. He hopped to his feet and shrugged it off, grinning like a loon.

"Good t'see ya, too, Trisha!"

"Shut up, asshole!"

Standing in the open doorway was a petite, striking woman with raven hair. Her dark eyes fixated on Reid, glaring at him with clenched, shaking fists.

"You…you have the audacity to come back? You sneak out, disappear for a month, and now you just waltz back in here like nothing happened?"

Reid rolled his eyes. "Ah, come on, Trisha, don't be like that. I jus' went out fer a bit—"

"For a month!"

"—and got caught up with a bit o' drama."

"'Drama' my ass! You left at the worst possible time!"

"Eh, yer strong, ain't ya? 'm sure ya handled it jus' fine."

"That's not the point! What were you even doing?! How many people did you kill?!"

"Depends. Does a Witch coun' as a person? Tha' slut had it comin'."

Trisha growled but clearly saw that their argument was going nowhere. Her gaze wandered over to Volcanica, passing over the bubbly Shaula and eventually landing on Flugel—more specifically, the pendent around his neck. Her eyes narrowed, as her voice lowered to a whisper. "That emblem…That's the symbol of the Od Laguna, isn't it? Worn by a human male…" Her head shot back to Reid, as her tone became scathing once more. "You were off cavorting with the elusive Sage of all people, not to mention the Holy Dragon itself, and you call that 'a bit of drama'?"

Reid waved her off. "I thought ya'd be all worried 'bout th'bird. Not even gonna ask if I tapped that?"

Trisha scoffed. "You, Reid Astrea, convinced a woman to sleep with you? Hardly. You're all talk, you jerk." She stepped forward and shoved a finger in his face. The force of it nearly knocked him off his feet. "And don't you dare bring up that one time! You absolutely spiked my drink, you pathetic excuse for human life!"

"Hah! So, you finally admit that it happened!"

"It's hard not to when you left me like this!"

Reid glanced down at her stomach, as his grin spread further. "Damn, almost forgot 'bout tha'!"

"You…you forgot?!"

"I said these pricks were a load o' drama, didn't I?"

At that point, Flugel decided that he had enough. It wasn't just that he was finding out that Reid was even more of a scumbag than he had previously thought. It wasn't even because people were dying left and right; rather, it was something much more selfish.

It was at the unfairness of it all.

It was no great secret that Flugel wanted a family. Even though he had taken in people that he loved as his own, it didn't bring the fulfillment that he so sought.

This wasn't just a normal desire to be a parent—it was a deep pain that couldn't be described. Even Satella, who craved the same thing as he did, couldn't understand the strength of it. It was a force beyond normal magic, and it tortured him, day in and day out.

Yet here was Reid, abandoning Trisha…who was quite visibly pregnant with his child.

Flugel pushed himself in between the arguing duo, shoving Reid to the side. "Enough! I'm sick of hearing you two go on and on!"

Trisha sputtered a protest, but he wasn't about to offer any sympathy to that monster either.

Flugel paused, unsure of where that thought had come from. He pushed it to the side for the moment, focusing on the task at hand.

"All right, Reid. We went to Flanders. We did what you wanted. Now, are you done, or are you going to keep making an ass of yourself?"

"Back off, Sage," Trisha snapped. "This is between me and Reid."

"I don't give a shit," he spat. "We have a genocidal Witch on our hands, yet here we are, dealing with Reid's love life."

"I don't love—what do you mean, genocidal Witch?"

Flugel looked her up and down, noting that, despite her petite frame, she was physically strong—a single blow had sent Reid flying. Even so, he forced himself to calm down and told her, "It's not something you have to deal with—not when you're pregnant."

If looks could kill, he would be dead a million times over. "Don't discount me as one of your feeble, human women, Sage. A Witch is nothing compared to me."

"I don't doubt that," he said, and he found himself believing it, "but parents and children are the primary targets of this Witch."

He gave a brief explanation of what was happening—carefully omitting Satella's name for Shaula's sake, even though she was out of earshot. He concluded with, "I'd recommend fleeing the country. Hide and save your child."

Her lips curled downwards with contempt. "And what? Wait barefoot in the kitchen with a swollen belly, crying for scum like Reid to come back to me?"

"It's better than risking—"

"Need I repeat myself? A Witch is nothing against me."

He opened his mouth to speak again, but Reid cut him off. "Trisha ain't a little fish. She could kick my ass 'alf-asleep, an' ya already know how stron' th'Stick Swinger is."

Trisha refused to look at Reid. "So, that's what you've done after abandoning your unborn child? Obtaining ridiculous nicknames?"

"Fer most o' th'time, yeah. A cute little rascal gave 'em t'me."

Flugel leveled his gaze with Trisha, deliberately ignoring that last comment. "I'm serious here. I've seen the Witch of Envy's victims. She doesn't just kill people: she shatters their souls. You're removed from the Od Laguna's reincarnation cycle. Your very existence will be erased, but now, it's not just you. By fighting, you're risking two lives instead of one. Are you sure that you want to do this?"

She cracked her knuckles. "It's better than sitting around, waiting for her to come to me in the dead of night. Besides, the thought of killing the one who holds the Witch Factor of Envy…I cannot deny how appealing that sounds."

'And I want to rip your fucking head off, but you don't see me being reckless.'

He sighed, shoving those alien thoughts as far down as possible. "You know what? Fine. Go get yourself killed. I don't care. What matters right now is stopping Sa—Envy."

For just a moment, Trisha let loose a demonic grin. It disappeared a moment later, replaced by a cool facade. "Fine with me. I just need to blow off some steam. Ah, if only it didn't have to be alongside Reid…"

Flugel furrowed his eyebrows. "Do I even want to ask how you two got together?"

"It's not a story worth telling."

He sighed, putting that to the side for the meantime. Honestly, of everything that had happened, Reid's mess of a love life wasn't high on Flugel's priority list.

He walked over to Shaula, who was busy "talking" to Volcanica, though in reality, it was more that they were speaking in each other's general direction. Shaula was babbling about something or other, and Volcanica was even less coherent, as he was mumbling about a little girl who was "stolen by a god amongst demons" or whatever.

Shaula huffed and put her hands on her hips. "You really are a massive cynic," she haughtily declared. "I'm trying to talk about how great Master is, but you won't even listen, nope!"

Flugel placed a hand on Shaula's shoulder, causing her to instantly brighten up. "Being disinterested doesn't mean that he's cynical," he explained, but she didn't get it. "Look, Shaula, something really bad is happening, and I need your help to fix it. I'm going to take us someplace, so I need you to be on your guard, okay?"

She saluted with a grin. "Got it! Private Shaula will remain diligent for Captain Master!"

He wanted to laugh, he really did, but he just couldn't bring himself to do it.

He gathered everyone up, silencing the bickering Reid and Trisha with a few harsh remarks. It was a bit surprising that they listened to him at all, but he supposed that the thought of an upcoming battle was enough to temporarily quell their belligerence.

Seeing them all stand in a circle while holding hands—or pop its head between Shaula and Reid, in Volcanica's case—Trisha furrowed her eyebrows. "What's this? Some kind of friendship circle?"

Flugel's left eye twitched. "I'm teleporting you," he explained with forced calm.

Trisha stared at him with a blank expression. "You can teleport," she deadpanned. "…How?"

"Yin magic."

"B-but only the Sorceress was able to do that last time!"

Flugel's façade faltered. "I-I…What?"

Trisha schooled her expression and waved him off with a dismissive flick of her wrist, uncannily similar to how Reid would often do. "Bah, never mind that. We have a Witch to fight, don't we?"

The harsh reminder sent all of the confusion flying from Flugel's mind. "Right…Just hold on to one of us, I guess."

She squeezed herself between Shaula and Volcanica, stubbornly avoiding Reid, who chuckled.

Flugel's hand tightened around Shaula's, as he tried to even out his breathing. It was fine. They were just gathering information. They weren't fighting quite yet. They didn't have to kill Satella.

'Not yet, at least.'

The thought nearly sent him to his knees, but he pushed onward, bringing them to Costuul.

Or at least, where Costuul was supposed to be.

Trisha broke off from them and crossed her arms, as she overlooked the landscape. "You told us that she'd be in Costuul, or at least near it."

"I d-did," Flugel stuttered, his eyes fixated on the scenery before him.

"Then take us to Costuul, not some empty field."

That was the problem. He did take them to Costuul.

…But it wasn't there anymore.

Costuul was a large, bustling demihuman city that served as one of Lugunica's regional capitals. Flugel hadn't exactly travelled much recently, but he still had a pretty good idea of what Costuul looked like.

This, however, was a wasteland. The entire plane was levelled. Bits of wood stuck out here and there, and the hint of a storefront was visible.

With Arlam Village, an assailant had systematically targeted individual people. Here, a monster had swallowed an entire city whole, leaving only death and debris in its wake.

'But why?! What's the point?!'

The Witch of Envy's goal was to remove all of Flugel's attachments, and she had decided that the primary targets were families, hadn't she?

…Ah. He saw it now. His reaction to this scene was the answer.

Despite everything, Flugel still held love for the world as a whole. He may not be close to many people anymore—having killed most of his loved ones—but there were still millions of people that walked the land, and that meant that they were worth protecting.

That's why he had acted as a private soldier of sorts for Farsale, taking out threats such as Hector and ending the fight between Volcanica and Reid. Doing that saved lives, which, in turn, made him happy.

The Witch of Envy hated that. As Farsale had implied, she wasn't just targeting families anymore; her aim was all living beings.

To think that she would go so far as to eliminate an entire city exclusively because of Flugel's small fondness for a concept of all things…

Slowly but surely, he began to mourn not just the townsfolk but Satella herself.

Reid's voice shook, as he looked upon the wasteland. "D-damn, that's…that's something. Shit, man. Just…shit."

Flugel couldn't have said it better.

Volcanica raised its head with its eyes clear for the first time in weeks. "The darkness gathers, and the shadows loom. Dost thou see it?"

Reid gave Volcanica an annoyed glance. "The fuck're ya sayin'?"

Flugel followed Volcanica's line of sight and paled. "She's here. The Witch of Envy is here."

Shaula perked up. "Witch? Like Mother?"

Once again, Flugel flinched. He knew that Shaula wasn't intending to harm him, but it sure as hell hurt.

Gathering his composure, he said, "No, not like her. Being around her is, well, dangerous, but that wasn't intentional on her part. It's mostly her aura making people go crazy. But Witch—"

"Is an abomination," Volcanica snarled. "She must die."

Flugel hesitated. "Try subduing her first," he said, not entirely disagreeing. Trisha glared at him, but he ignored it. "If we can stop her without killing her, then we should do that"

The dragon's cerulean scales glinted in the sunlight, despite being dulled by the overwhelming shadows. "Mine foe is a Calamity. There is no stopping her rampage without death."

Flugel didn't back down. It was a battle in its own right, but he eventually got the dragon to reluctantly agree: incapacitation before death.

Flugel was starting to agree with Shaula about Volcanica being a cynic.

Even so, if it came down to it and the Witch of Envy forced his hand, he would kill her, just as Satella wanted.

With that thought, he wondered if he had lost everything that had made him…himself.

Since coming to Lugunica, his entire life had revolved around Satella. It was an unhealthy codependence, he knew that, but what was more noble than dedicating his life to the woman that he loved? What was more selfless than living solely for another?

Now, electricity danced between his fingers…with the target being Satella's heart.

A few months ago, when he had sacrificed the prisoner and gained access to Satella's soul by temporarily killing her…This wasn't that different, was it? The only difference was the lack of subterfuge.

He was still saving her—just in a different way.

He clenched his fist, dissipating the energy. On his orders, Reid, Volcanica, Shaula, and Trisha braced themselves.

As if on cue, the shadowy clouds parted, leaving an open circle at the epicenter. Like a tornado forming, a funnel darted towards the ground, crashing right in front of them. Gliding out of it, cloaked in her own power, was none other than the Witch of Envy.

No words, emotions, gestures, speeches, fanfare, or anything. Envy simply stood there, looking directly at Flugel.

Yesterday, her target would have been Trisha. Now, it was everything but herself and her beloved, though the latter would likely be attacked if he provoked her.

Despite her broader scope, she still seemed especially eager to eliminate the expectant mother.

She didn't raise her arms, say an incantation, or anything like that. On Envy's will alone, Trisha's own shadow morphed into a spear, aimed directly at the neck. Dozens more formed from all directions, all trained at different parts of Trisha's body.

True to her word, that was nothing to Trisha.

With speed unimaginable, Trisha evaded each and every shadow spear, making her way forward as she did so. Mere seconds after Envy appeared, Trisha was right in front of the Witch, aiming a powerful kick towards her abdomen.

It was as futile as striking the shadows themselves. Trisha's kick went right through Envy. Her eyes widened, as her momentum nearly knocked her to the floor. A solid shadow bludgeoned her on the side of the head, dazing her.

Before Envy could finish the deed, Reid slashed his sword down, but not to Concept Cut—if he didn't understand what to cut, he couldn't perform it, so Reid did what he knew best. At near-light speed, he sent a flurry of blows at Satella. He was a living flame wielding a bone-white sword, refusing to accept anything but total annihilation of his target.

His sword passed through the shadows.

A thousand more swings. None connected. It was as if she weren't there to begin with.

But Reid was nothing if not stubborn. He kept up his assault, keeping Satella occupied.

Flugel's eyes narrowed, as he remembered his fight with Echidna. No matter how invincible an opponent seemed, all they were doing was using some kind of shield, and every shield had a weakness, be it a certain kind of attack or a remote power source.

But Flugel had Reid, Volcanica, and Shaula on his side. When fighting with that level of power, brute force was enough to tear through anyone's energy reserves, and by extension, their shield.

"Don't stop attacking her!" he called out, trying to keep his voice from cracking. "Make her run out of mana!"

Shaula grinned and cracked her knuckles. With dramatic flair, she sent a Hell's Snipe at the Witch. Her aim was true, but it still nearly hit Reid, who was on Satella's other side. It was only a quick swing of his sword that split the magic in two, preventing him from disintegrating.

As the attacks continued, Volcanica reared its head back. Trisha's shouts, Reid's cackles, and Shaula's incantations were silenced by the aura that it exuded. The shadows danced to the music of its mana, as the Divine Dragon released its Restoration Breath.

Nothing. It did absolutely nothing to the Witch of Envy.

Flugel hated himself for the sheer relief that he felt.

He knew that the being in front of him was not really Satella, but she was still trapped inside. Beneath that cloak, he'd see the eyes that he fell in love with. If he could just reach her soul…

…No. That wouldn't work.

This wasn't one of his books from Japan, where the love interest reached into the darkness of the villain's heart and brought out their good side. This was a real monster—one who had stolen his wife from him. His entire body ached to join the fight and defeat the Witch of Envy.

…But by attacking Envy, he'd be attacking Satella, too.

Knowing that, he couldn't bring himself to attempt anything lethal, but he wouldn't sit idly by, either. He forced pillars of earth out of the ground, impeding her movement and letting Volcanica's attacks go through easier.

As expected, it did nothing to her, but Flugel wasn't aiming to kill. He was gathering information.

'Envy avoided the pillar,' he noted. 'A weakness to earth magic, maybe?'

He wasn't great at earth magic—ironic, as he was from a planet called Earth—but spears made of earth were easy enough for him to cast. His eyebrows shot up when Envy let them pass through her. His earth magic theory was quickly scrapped.

Just to be sure, he raised another pillar to impede her movement. She shifted to the right in an attempt to avoid it, but it caught her arm…going right through it. To most onlookers, she wasn't affected in the slightest.

But Flugel's mind was beginning to whirl. If Envy didn't flinch at an incoming sword yet she thought that a simple pillar could hurt her…maybe he was on the right track.

The minutes dragged on, with Reid, Shaula, and Volcanica attacking while Flugel tested Envy, trying to figure out a way around her wards that wasn't brute force; as it turned out, even their small army wasn't enough to beat her in a battle of strength. Flugel was almost willing to give up and resort to trial and error, but there wasn't enough time for anything but cold, calculated reasoning, and that wasn't easy when you're rapidly accumulating injuries.

And yet, after a long, painful fight…he came up with something.

Steeling his nerves and hardening his expression, Flugel dashed towards her, gaining her attention. When he was five steps away from her, the shadows around her face thinned out…and both of them faltered.

Bright, amethyst eyes pleaded with him to keep moving forward, to take another step and finish the job, but that just made him want to take two steps back.

That hesitation on both of their parts allowed the Witch of Envy to take control.

"All for you"

She didn't even blink, yet he found himself tumbling through the air, knocking himself and Reid into Volcanica.

Flugel wasn't one to become incapacitated by a simple blow, but this wasn't a normal strike. Envy's magic assaulted his heart and soul, imprisoning it in her icy grasp. It took his breath and blocked out his mind, coaxing him into accepting the oblivion that was her embrace.

All of those times in the mansion when he was "fighting her off" was her just messing with him, it seemed. Even this was likely not her full power.

He struggled against the darkness of unconsciousness, which Reid and Volcanica had already succumbed to. He almost gave in, but he staved off the void, as panic filled him.

Shaula had called out to him…gaining Envy's ire.

Within a split second, he teleported to Shaula, tackling her to the floor. Her head smashed against a rock, dazing her, but it was better than being stabbed by the shadow that passed over them. He rolled just in time to avoid another one, letting it slash open his back instead of Shaula's heart.

Blood spurted out like a fountain, rapidly draining his energy. It sliced through his nerves, as he narrowly avoided paralysis. He almost fell unconscious from the pain alone, but the sight in front of him kept him awake.

It was Trisha.

A dark glow filled the air, not unlike the shadows that she was fighting. Energy crackled around her, as two points of light formed at her forehead. Bursting out of it, each as tall as Trisha herself, were two gigantic, ethereal horns.

She was a demon—stronger than any that he had ever seen before.

Her dark eyes were now pure-white, gazing serenely at the Witch. Her voice echoed around her, distorting the air itself. "The Sorceress has come," Trisha intoned, but it wasn't Trisha anymore. "As beautiful as always, I see. To think that your soul has been corrupted like mine, yet you are still filled with such powerful love…Magnificent, is it not?"

Envy didn't respond, but she didn't turn away. The demon didn't mind. It had always preferred to monologue to a silent, attentive audience.

Its empty eyes observed Envy in a way that was familiar to Flugel, but he couldn't quite place it. "How strange," it murmured. "You struggle to remember me, yet you and your kin have never left my mind."

Envy didn't respond. If anything, she seemed to lose interest in this new person, choosing instead to look at Flugel.

The demon gave a soft, serene smile. "How unfortunate. I was hoping that you would do battle with me once more. Unless—" It's eyes followed Envy's gaze, causing Flugel to shiver as those white-hot flames burned through him. "…Ah. The Sage is here. Magnificent."

It felt like an eternity passed, as the two higher powers looked upon Flugel, making him realize just how small and insignificant he was.

It didn't matter what power Flugel held. He would always be weaker than his enemies, and they both knew that.

Despite the demon's white eyes being completely blank, a spark of madness crept in, widening them, as its smile grew. Was Flugel just a bug to be crushed? Or was there something…personal behind it? Why did the demon seem so eager?

'Why can't I move?'

And yet, he could. His entire body trembled violently…but he couldn't run away.

…Fear. He couldn't move due to a terror unlike anything that he had ever felt before.

Something deep within Flugel knew that he was about to die looking into those eyes, having failed to protect what matters most.

The demon raised its hand, whispering something in an ancient tongue that had never been heard in this plane of existence. Flugel braced himself—

"He's mine"

A shadow slammed into the demon, interrupting the spell. Barely fazed, its head screwed backwards to look over its shoulder, childlike joy etched upon its features.

"Again," it whispered. "Again, again, again!"

It kept repeating itself, getting louder every time.

"Again! Again! Again! Strike me again! Let history repeat itself again, again, again! After all…"

Its pure white eyes, burning with fury, a power unimaginable, excitement gleaming through the hatred—

And then…nothing.

A blank expression.

It wasn't happy. Not yet.

Not until the deed was done.

A whisper, and nothing more. "You know what happens next, don't you?"

Mere words alone couldn't describe what happened next. Despite being a fair distance away, the hairs on the back of Flugel's neck stood straight up, as his entire body felt like it was being torn apart by the demon's aura alone. He barely held on to consciousness, forcing himself to look at Envy instead of the demon's blinding light. Her lips were moving, but sound itself had died. Despite that, Flugel knew what she was saying.

"You can't have him"

At her silent command, the shadows struck.

They were nothing but twigs to be snapped.

Wind sliced through shadow, shadow pierced flesh, flesh remained unmarred. The ground tore itself apart, for it could not accommodate such powerful beings walking its surface. The clouds above scattered, too fearful of the battle beneath them.

Two gods on the battlefield fought without a shred of restraint, and not a drop of sanity could be found between them.

A mockery of a smile met slated eyes. Lips moved, words were formed, and no sounds manifested, but Envy heard it all the same. Her purple eyes widened slightly, as a spark of awareness shone through. Whether it was Satella taking over or Envy having a moment of lucidity, one could not say for sure, but the fact of the matter stayed the same.

The Witch of Envy was scared.

One second, she was there, battling her foe on even ground. The next, the demon had unleashed a wave of power that put Volcanica's Restoration Breath to shame. The surrounding flora withered to nothingness, as the beam of light traversed the air, slamming into a mountain miles away and turning it to dust.

And yet, it didn't matter. Envy had fled so that she may fight another day.

A spark of annoyance crept onto the demon's face, but it was short-lived. It doubled over, grunting in pain, as color flooded its eyes. Trisha fell to the floor, holding herself in the fetal position, as she fought for her mind, life, and even her soul.

Trisha's fight may have just begun, but Flugel's had long since ended. Finally, he shut his eyes and embraced the darkness.


Amidst the darkness of unconsciousness, the Sage's soul traversed memories locked away. Distant scenes from another universe, vaguely recalled for an instant and swept away whenever he awoke. It was an amalgamation of dreams and his deepest, most subconscious desires—not quite reality but not entirely fiction, either.

He held a girl with silver hair close to him, comforting her as she struggled to express how she felt. It was unfair, he thought, that he could so easily say how much he loved her, but she had never been taught such simple things.

He wanted to help her with that, but death had taken her from him—or had it taken him from her? He didn't know. All he could think about was how much he missed her.

As light flooded the world, he broke away from her, turning as she cried out for him to stay.

But he couldn't stay. He had to protect her.

When he awoke, he remembered nothing of the dream…except for the monster whom he was shielding her from.

He didn't know how or why or where or when, but as his eyes opened to scorched earth and wounded warriors, he desperately grasped an urge as powerful as his desire to save Satella.

He would kill the Oni God, or he would die trying.