It was a very fortunate thing nobody saw them.

Louise, leading a buck naked doppelganger of herself by the wrist, out in the hallways. That will definitely attract a lot of attention to her, which was the least wanted thing on her list right now.

The pinkette would yank her familiar into her room, slamming the door shut behind them. She would wearily walk over to her bed, and them flop down face first with a groan.

"Ughhhh, that was very exhausting. . ." Louise would complain, her voice muffled by her face being buried into the soft mattress. She didn't even bother to change at all!

. . .

The Zero was now starting to get quite unnerved by her familiar's silence. Sure, that had been helpful when they were sneaking towards her room, but now? Even its footsteps were as silent as a light breeze.

She rolled over on her bed and was about to speak, when she cut herself off.

. . .

Her doppelganger, was standing by her study desk, slowly tracing its dainty, porcelain fingers on it while it scanned its hollow eyes over her books and notes.

. . .

As Louise sat up on her bed, it then slowly looked up and turned its head, its eyes fluidly glancing around her room. And then it laid its eyes on her.

. . .

Those dull pink eyes, bore into her, that it wasn't a mere golem in her image. Those eyes, held unreleased emotion.

. . .

Longing. . .

Agony. . .

Weariness. . .

Regret. . .

Wisdom. . .

But, why? How. . .?

The pinkette flinched as her familiar looked down with a long, gravelly sigh, shaking as if it was about to weep.

Wait. Its voice. Why did its sigh sound a lot like hers, like every time she fails a spell. . .? Her thoughts were starting to swirl with questions that, when she thought she answered, would bear more questions.

Black fluid started to dot on the outer corners of her doppelganger's eyes. Its tears. Why was it. . . Starting, to cry?

. . .

It slowly walked off to the pile of hay at the corner of her bedroom, meant for a familiar that was a mere creature. The more Louise thought of her familiar and its actions, the more it struck in her that this golem was not just simply that, but a sentient soul stuck in a shell of metal.

Her doppelganger sat down on the hay, before lying its back down on the pile. A small smile would appear on its face as its black tears started to flow down its cheeks, small, quiet sobs escaping it. . .


. . .

The hay she laid on. It was the warmest thing she had ever had contact, after a cold, bitter eternity.

She let her eyelids close, her eyes feeling, the sweet embrace of darkness on them. After eons of this, darkness being so close, yet so far of their reach.

Even if it was short, and will be broken soon, she can finally rest, with no worry and regret. To let go of reality, for a moment, of peaceful slumber.

A sigh would escape her mouth again, as she let herself, slip, into darkness. . .


"Familiar!"

Louise would snap at her still-sleeping doppelganger, the latter's eyes flinging open and rapidly blinking thrice at her.

"It's been an hour since I had dinner and you're still sleeping with no clothes on! Aren't you cold right now!?" The pinkette would feel her eye twitch when it just closed its eyes with a chuckle, before shaking its head as it stood up from its bed.

"Hey, answer me, familiar!" She demanded as her clone simply brushed past her towards her closet, only to flinch slightly as it snapped its head back at her.

"Fine, you asked for it."

The Zero froze all over.

Its voice was exactly like her own. Though, it sounded, ragged. Scratchy. And it spoke Tristainian, very fluently.

But its voice felt, devoid. It held, no emotion. Like a lifeless, speaking golem. The pinkette felt really conflicted about this, taking a step back from her familiar.

The doppelganger chuckled again as it turned away, its feet silently shuffling on her floor before it opened her closet.

"See? This is why I stayed silent, up until you demanded me to. Figured you'd be dumbstruck."

It shrugged as it started to take clothes. One of the many spares of her uniform and some of her unused underwear. Her clone flawlessly put on her clothes, with the exception of the bra which she struggled for a moment to clasp in the back.

Her clothes fit perfectly on it.

. . .

Louise couldn't move.

The golem closed her closet before it looked at her again with those hollow, yet emotion-filled eyes.

She was in awe.

She was in disbelief.

She was in terror.

She was. . . She didn't know anymore. All her emotions were swirling inside herself in a chaotic, undescribable storm.

The Zero instinctively backed off as her familiar suddenly trudged towards the door, swiftly opening it. "Fa-Familiar, wait!"

The door slammed shut behind the doppelganger, and she fumbled for a moment before swinging the door open. "Familiar!"

The pinkette called out to empty air.

She looked out her bedroom in disbelief. How did it disappear!? And, why. . .?

A faint, fading pink glow would linger in the hallway. . .


She was out here in the summoning clearing outside the Academy, under the vast, star-filled night sky. Where the central core, of the SEEDSHIP-2 was summoned. Where she was trapped for eternity, as punishment for her failures.

She sat on the grass, her back to the steel frame of her stasis pod's guide rail. The cold of the remnants of the vessel, has faded into the comparably warm night air.

The twin moons in the sea of white-dotted dark blue. The fading orange glow in the western horizon. Tears flowed down on her face as she reminisced.

She smiled daintily.

These times, when she was so young. When everything was so simple. When everything was simply rainbows and unicorns. . .

Her smile, faltered.

All of which crumbled with her failure, in her spells. She tried to stay hopeful and competent, even though everyone bogged down on her, that she will never be successful.

She chuckled.

Then she summoned him.

Saito Hiraga.

She defied fate then, in these very grounds of summoning. But her pride and innocence, blinded her to reality. It was her fault, that Wardes killed Prince Wales. On that fateful day that she was to be married.

Her mouth curled into a frown, as she closed her eyes.

The same day that Reconquista took over Albion. She felt broken down. Bogged. Beaten. She remembered after the following war, that she felt. . .

Hollow.

Her back slid down to the grass beneath her. She curled up into a ball on the dirt, as she covered her tear-covered face with her hands.

. . .

She sobbed.

. . .

She didn't know how much, she spent, on simply reminding herself of her failures.

No.

She will change her fate. She will not stand by doing nothing.

No.

She will change Halkeginia's fate. With her bare hands. That has been her agenda, ever since she got here. To this time where she was blind to the truth.

Her eyebrows furrowed as she wiped her black tears with the back of her hand. She grit her teeth as she stood up, walking off from the SEEDSHIP-2's gargantuan core.

She will defy the destiny of Halkeginia.

Starting, with Fouquet.


BANG!

"Headmaster!" Colbert called out as he slammed the door to the old man's office open, a thick tome under his arm.

"Hm? What is it, Jean?" Osmond raised a brow. The professor's alarmed expression was enough of a red flag to guarantee his full attention.

"Oh for Founder- Shoo!" His secretary Longuevuille would drive off his familiar Motsognir from beside her shoes. But right now, what is making his professor very concerned is more important than the color of the woman's undergarments.

"It's, concerning Louise, Valliere's familiar, and its, runes." Professor Colbert stated between pants. So this is certainly a serious topic. The headmaster supposed that Longuevuille be left out of this.

"Miss Longuevuille, I'm afraid these are matters that will need to be discussed behind closed doors, so if you may." "Understood, Headmaster." With a curt bow, she would walk off and leave the office, making sure to lock the door behind her.

"With that out of the way, what did you want to tell me that I should urgently know about?" Old Osmond asked, placing his elbows on his desk and his chin on his clasped hands.

"I've lately researched about the familiar runes on Louise's summon, and I discovered something, very alarmingly similar." The balding professor stated with a grinded tone of urgency. He took the tome under his arm and opened it to the bookmark he set.

THUD!

The thick book was set on the headmaster's desk, and Osmond took a look.

"Gandalfr."

The old man looked up at Jean with furrowed brows, while the balding professor pointed at the page with the runes.

"Headmaster, Louise Valliere's familiar, has these same exact runes, on its left hand."

. . .

The tense, silent air settled between them. . .

"Professor Colbert. No word or knowledge of this will come out of this room. If any of this does, the poor girl would be regarded as a heretic by the Church on top of her countless failures. Do you understand?"

"Yes, sir." The professor nodded gravely as he took the tome and closed it, ready to return it back to the dark corners of the Academy's library.


Gandalfr? Isn't that, the Left Hand of God? Wait, if that Valliere's familiar has those runes-

No Goddamn way!

Louise, was a Void mage!? This will aid greatly for Reconquista's goals! At last, once she gets the Staff of Destruction, she'll report back to those bastards, and they won't threaten Tiffania and the orphanage again!

They won't ever again. . .

Right. . .?

"Uhm-"

"HIIIIIEEEE!" Longuevuille yelped loudly as she shot up straight in the air. Aggravated, she looked behind her to see. . .

Louise. Up and about, this early evening.

Just about her damn luck.

"Uh, Miss, what were you doing, crouching with your head, to the, err. . ."

Her voice was, quiet. She seemed, hesitant.

Wait.

Those eyes. Those hollow, emotionless pink eyes. . .

The door to the Headmaster's office opened, revealing a concerned Colbert. "Miss Longuevuille, did something happen?"

"Ah!" The greenette whipped around to face the balding professor. "I was just about to knock if you and the Headmaster were done, when I got surprised by Louise's familiar."

The second half of her sentence was true though. She didn't even hear its footsteps, at all! The secretary looked back at the Valliere's doppelganger.

It just, blinked twice at them.

It sighed. "I, wanted to, personally talk, to Miss Longuevuille, about something. If I'm not, disrupting your schedule, that is." The clone glanced to the side, seemingly nervous.

Longuevuille noticed that Professor Jean beside her raised his brows and opened his mouth in surprise. Of course he would be, the golem not just speaks, but also sounds exactly the same as its master!

"Well, uhm, you aren't." "Can we go, somewhere secluded. . .?"

"Well, I'll be on my way." The balding professor quickly excused himself, walking off down the hallway.

No! It found out, didn't it!? It'll blab on about her act! Everyone will get suspicious of her, especially Colbert and the Headmaster!

No, keep it together. The moment it speaks of that, threaten it to submission. Then, everything will still go according to plan. That'll work.

It will work.

"Very well. You may lead the way." The secretary nodded curtly, gesturing for Louise's doppelganger to walk ahead.


And here they are again.

Back at the summoning grounds, where that gargantuan tower of black stood. Those four prongs she saw earlier on the monolith were softly glowing a pink hue.

The golem sat down with its back on the pod, its genesis. Where it first took its steps, to become the Valliere's familiar.

If it brings up her behavior and pries about it, threaten it to not speak a word. Simple task, especially that both of them are in an open clearing all surrounded by dirt, which she had an affinity for.

It looked up at her with those soulless, pink eyes. Something about the familiar's gaze made the secretary, quite uneasy, despite her confidence in her earth magic.

". . . Miss Longuevuille, I wanted to ask something. . ."

The greenette stood silent as she sat on the cold dirt in front of the doppelganger. That frosty fog from this pod structure's opening is still lingering on the ground, huh?

". . . What was, the story, behind Fouquet?" Oh. Well, at least it didn't directly ask about her.

A hollow chuckle would escape her.

"Well, from what I've heard, they're a disgraced noble that resorted to hiding. To thievery." Longuevuille dryly explained, looking off to the side.

". . . Why, did they. . .?" "Nobody knows, really. Those damn nobles just erased their actual name from the books, so nobody does. Not like anybody cares."

The secretary glanced at Louise's summon. . . It blinked once. It sighed.

". . . Miss, when I was but a little child blinded by innocence, I caught a thief infamous across an entire continent. . . I was proud back then. . ." Wait. That, didn't add up. That didn't happen before. What was this familiar getting at?

". . . But when I grew older, and older, I realized. That a human, was also behind that mask. That mask of infamous treachery." Longuevuille looked away again, crossing her arms.

Come on, just a little more and this useless golem will be off your back-

"Why did Fouquet disguise as a secretary named Longuevuille?"

The secretary froze right then and there, her eyes shooting wide in unadulterated terror.

"Why did they strike at the time of the Familiar Exhibition, to steal the Staff of Destru-"

She didn't think anymore. She was absolutely enraged.

"HOW DO YOU KNOW!?" The greenette shrieked as earthen walls instantly rose and surrounded them in a dome, letting nobody hear her rage.

"WHY DO YOU CARE!?" Longuevuille lunged at the soulless golem and pinned it to the empty pod behind it with both her hands on its neck, her own breathing quickened with her boiling anger.

CLANG!

Metal clashing against metal.

"ARE YOU JUST ASKING JUST TO FIND JUSTIFICATION TO THROW ME INTO THE DUNGEONS!? ANSWER ME!" She screamed right in front of the familiar's face.

Her snarl started to bare her gums when the doppelganger answered with a blank stare. The secretary reared one of her arms and clenched her hand into a fist-

"Are you fighting, to change someone's destiny?"

Longuevuille froze again right then and there. She locked her eyes against its own, soulless pink pair.

Staring back at her, was remorse. . .

Mourning. . .

Anguish. . .

Wisdom.

Curiosity. . .?

Pity. . .?

The greenette slowly lowered her arm, her breathing quieting down.

No. Longuevuille saw, no hostility in those eyes. No. There was, no venom in its voice. No. No, no, no. Did, did she really, want to do this!? She was doing this for a bright future, for herself, for Tiffania, for the kids! Not for some, lunatic dictators bent on conquering the entire, fucking continent!

And yet she couldn't speak right here and now. This, familiar, golem, girl, whatever, simply wanted to ask why she is who she is. But she exploded in rage, ready to destroy this doppelganger!

What would happen if this familiar started to speak of this? What if everyone knew of this? What would the orphans, who looked up to her, think of her!? After years of hiding this to Tiffania, what would she think of her!?

She didn't want to lose them! Tiffania, the children, they're the only family she had left! She, she-

". . . You. . . You're, crying. . ." Louise's familiar, spoke in a soft, quiet voice. It was, hesitant even, as if not wanting to anger her further.

She. . . She was. . .?

The greenette shakily retreated the hand on the doppelganger's neck, bringing it up to her face.

. . .

Her cheeks were wet.

. . .

She lost it.


Miss Longuevuille pressed on her, burying her tear-stained face onto her shoulder.

A burdened soul.

Fouquet the Crumbling Dirt, known for making the manors and profits of nobles crumble into earth, crumbling under pressure into her embrace.

It was ironic, to put it lightly. But she didn't smirk at it. This wasn't a laughing matter. This is a matter that needs to be solved. To be healed. So for now, she'll do what she can do to comfort a tormented soul.

She gently stroked a hand on the weeping secretary's hair, while she let out her muffled sobs on her shoulder.

"I- I just wanted, to- to keep them, safe!" She simply responded, by wrapping her other arm around the weeping greenette.


Matilda didn't care anymore about her identity, about her secrets, about everything.

All she wanted was for someone to listen to her. Her side of the story.

"Ever since Reconquista to- took over Albion, Tiffania. . . She was my only family left. And, and now, th-they're threatening to, to take her a-away. . ."

She clutched the golem tighter, hoping that it would listen. Hoping it would care about her words between her sobbing.

"They, they forced me t-to do their dirty work."

"If I, I told Tiffania of all this, sh-she would barely hesitate to, to throw her life away, for me, for the or-orphans. . ."

. . .

"I don't, d-don't want to lose her!"

. . .

"It's okay. I'm here, I'll be here. I won't leave until you're fine. So just, let it all out." This familiar's voice was quiet. Yet it held so much gentleness. Like an elder, comforting their burdened child.

And now, all she wanted was to cry it all out.

All her anger.

All her frustration.

All her worry.

All her sorrow.


The earth sphere around both of them started to slowly crumble, the dirt falling off and giving way for the cool night breeze to sweep over them.

The remnants of the walls would be carried away by the wind, leaving them under the bright, purple-tinted moonlight. The breeze would carry the wails of the weeping thief in her arms.

She let the secretary be in her sorrow, staying quiet for her sake.

And as more time passed, she saw that the greenette was crying herself into sleep, her sobs becoming more tired and her clutch on her body grew weaker.

. . .

Eventually, Longuevuille laid limp in slumber on top of her. She gently moved her body so as to not aggravate her, eventually making her lay beside her with her head on her lap.

Her dusty hand slowly brushed over the secretary's face, moving her green hair out of the way. She then wiped the dirty tears on her peaceful expression.

. . .

It's been so long. Since she felt like this. . .

Warm. . .

Fuzzy. . .

After an eternity in damnation, she still. . .

Cherished, emotion. . .

. . .

Maybe after all these trillion years, she and Longuevuille were the same in the end. . .