Another chapter of Perfect Insanity. Originally written just before my hiatus like many others that follow after this, remastered slightly for some extra detail. Who is Délarbé's first target?

Chapter 8: Once trusted turn traitors

The cold, white moonlight faintly shines on green, grassy plains only obstructed by a quiet lake with a path leading back to a wooden cabin. A haze hangs ominous over the field. As do a swarm of mosquitoes over a damp area of the lake. The stars are plentiful and bright on the backdrop of some nearby mountains. A name, carved into a wooden board, hangs on the door reading "Floyd Derluck". It's probably the owner of the house.

Bright headlights shine through the haze as a car parks next to the cabin. The squeaking of the brakes of Floyd's car close to the house are heard. He needs to replace them some time. A fairly tall, russet, male vulpine around his 50's gets out his sedan. He wears black tainted sunglasses, even during this night. With a bag of groceries in one and a key in the other, he opens the front door. Whilst opening the door, he starts to chuckle, being reminded of a certain joke he and his fellow coworkers came up with during a break.

A desk job. It never was his thing but he needed a different life and identity after what happened on Venom five years before the infamous Lylat Wars, now 14 years ago already. He still feels that it was justified for him to leave it all behind in order to protect his loved ones. Even if there was more that he could do. But that's just a side-thought; his mood isn't ruined by it. On the contrary: He even starts to whistle as he opens the door, entering his home.

It's dark inside. The moonlight trying to get in is obstructed by the closed curtains. But Floyd doesn't mind. He knows his way around the house. Effortless, he places his bag on the kitchen table as he takes off his long, brown leather coat. He hangs it on a hook nailed to the wall as he cuts his whistling, not knowing how the song continues.

However, it seems someone clearly does. The melody continues to be whistled from the living room around the corner. Whoever is doing that, clearly goes up in it. Clapping, humming, drumming and even, though failing, a beat-box in between. Floyd tries to turn the light on while taking off his sunglasses, revealing his deep blue eyes. The whistling stops and no light turns on. The house stays as dark as it is.

'Something wrong Mr McCloud?'

Hearing that last name from a slightly distorted voice somewhere in the back of the living room, strikes him hard.

'Uuh... I have no idea what you're talking about.' Floyd's voice shivers as he says that sentence. His true last name. He hasn't heard that for years.

Smelling Floyd's delicious fear radiating from every pore, expressing itself with every muscle stretch, the person in the living room turns on a small lamp close to him. Floyd can see a spooky grey, male vulpine sitting in a lime-green easy-chair in back of the room. His face is bloodstained, branded, clawed and bitten. The tears are back and look even harder and more crimson than before. He has been in a bitter fight with something indescribable, now perishing inside the person's backpack that's placed on the ground.

'How's it going father?' asks Délarbé to a worried Floyd. 'It has been too long.'

'I have no...'

'Quit the façade James.' interrupts Délarbé diminishing. 'The both of us know your identity.'

The worrying makes way for anger. With a face of stone, he points Délarbé the door.

'Get out. I don't care if you know my real name. But no one breaks in my house.' states James strong. He doesn't care about some stranger knowing his real name and possibly life. Who would believe someone as deformed as this guy?

How deformed Délarbé actually is, is shown as Délarbé opens his eyes. The red dots in his pupils, surrounded by the pentagram-shaped irises, pierce right through James' soul. The effect is enhanced as Délarbé turns off the lamp and rises from the chair to approach James. The only things James can see clearly are the burning index finger and the glowing eyes. James starts to notice, to his horror, why Délarbé called him father and why he knew his name. In Délarbé's appearance, a father's eye sees Fox McCloud.

'What have you... done?' His voice is more choked up than it was before. His heart, pounding in his throat. He backs up towards the wall ending at the open entrance to the kitchen.

'It's me father. Don't say you don't recognize your own flesh and blood? At least the flesh...'

Normally, Délarbé would have laughed at a remark like that. At least a fanged grin. But his expression is sour. A part of his upper lip is lifted as a sign of disgust.

'You said, or tried to say... that you didn't have son. Is that true?' inquires Délarbé with his arms folded.

Against better judgment, James answers the question, with the lie he has spread since his life as Floyd Derluck. Feeling pushed in a corner, he lashes out.

'I'm not James McCloud!' he shouts fierce. 'And I don't have a son!'

That last sentence, the harsh denial is more than Délarbé wanted to hear. Délarbé already knew that he would say something like that, but this is more than the complete package. He haggles once before hissingly spitting at James. The clot lands just before James' feet.

'That's you.' he points. 'Metaphorically of course. Well... we are not alone. Someone else is here with us. Someone who claims to be your son.'
Délarbé looks over his own right shoulder and signals with a nod of the head and a short, sharp whistle that someone needs to come over here before facing James again.

'Here he is.'

The gruff expression makes way for a crying vulpine named Fox. The glowing eyes turn to brown, staring down into his father's blue ones. The once hardened and immobile tears of blood, water and flow further down.

'Is that the truth dad?'

James immediately regrets his eruption of before. He backs down even further, feeling light-headed. He can't believe that he hears his son's voice after a long time. But the tone, the emotion behind it, is heartbreaking for him.

'Am I not your son?' cries Fox already heartbroken.

'Fox. I...'

'Have a reason? Sure. Go ahead. I'm waiting... I got an eternity to spend in nothingness so if you could hurry?'

Fox sounds lost. He has given in to his last hope: Krystal. Whatever hope he had in others was vanquished when his own father denied his existence. That reads from his face. James decides to let go. The truth must be uncovered. He holds himself from letting a tear, like Fox stood when he turned Krystal away.

'When I was presumed dead on Venom, I took a threat away. A cross hair aimed at you, was diverted. If I would have shown Lylat that I was alive, the terror would... I was preventing another attack that killed your mother Fox!'

Fox doesn't take it for granted. It was barely an apology. More of a defense for his action.

'Look where I am now. Do I look free from terror? No... I don't!' screams Fox as he knocks a vase off a small table. It shatters in a thousand pieces on the floor. 'Do you see with what filth I need to share my body with!?'

*Hey ho! I'm not that bad...*

Délarbé's comment adds nothing and it doesn't disturb Fox.

'This all because you were always so fierce and full of praise about Starfox. That was 90% of my youth.' concludes Fox looking back. It takes some time before he can pick up again. Emotions have got a tight hold on him.

'Starfox.' he continues regretful. 'I was so blind. I was 10 when it all started. You got addicted to the mercenary business with me in the back of the head. And I just went along with it. When you "died", I applied to the Academy. To uphold the legendary status of the team and the trust and the pride you had for and in me. I looked up to you like a hero. My father...' He looks away from James' face, too beaten down to look upon it. 'But this... is well enough alone.' he declares.

An awkward silence follows. James tries to speak out for himself, but knows very well that Fox is right. After hesitating numerous times, he can only utter sorry-sounding grunts. He gives up.

'You had no son? Okay. Done. Goodbye.'

'No. Fox wait!'

His reaching out has no purpose. Fox turned his back on him. He went back to the Nether as the still disgusted Délarbé takes his spot.

'You got what you wanted? Hm?'

James bows his head in disgrace and shame. A tear rolls over his left cheek.

'Figured.' says Délarbé compassion-less.

Calm and already calculating, he grabs his trusty bow Spawn. With an arrow, customized for this occasion ready, he aims for James.

'Heads up.' warns Délarbé as a small, half-ass grin works its way in.

James, broken and standing like beaten dog, lifts his head.

'This arrow has the fur of Peppy Hare attached to it. Ready to meet your old friend? Or... any last words?' asks Délarbé as the legend demands.

'Yeah.' says James dry-mouthed. 'Tell Fox I'm sorry.'

Knowing that it would enrage Délarbé, the right side of his mouth forms a grievous smile. The grin on Délarbé's face fades away however as the gruffness he had before turns worse.

'Fox has had enough of worthless excuses from people like you.' claims Délarbé. He does his very best not to yell it. Feeling strongly for Fox all of a sudden is very strange. He never displayed these emotions towards a host before. Is it because of the tears flowing again? Because of the for Fox deceiving story? Or because Fox might really be his other identity, the one he's searching for. For the moment, Délarbé lets these questions go like the exhale utters when he lets go of the string.

A mere second after finishing his sentence, the arrow with Peppy's fur stuck to the barbs and the vanes of the tip and arrow is shot towards James. Like the man behind the counter of the butchery, James is nailed to the wall behind him. Quick and clean for this one. It wasn't a kill for fun. While the others were, this holds an emotional burden. It falls right on Délarbé, like a collapsing building.

*Why do I... feel this tingling in my hands? This strange reluctance?*

His worries are washed away when his face, underneath the Inverted Cross starts to burn and glow red. The Double-Bladed Axe will present itself. Now Délarbé can laugh out loud. It's more of a relieve than an actual victory or arousing, but he takes it as presented to him. He prepares to be forced down by the pain of red beams and doomed souls entering the symbol, erupting from the ground.

'Come on! Give it to me!' he shouts demanding.

The pain of the symbol branding into his skin is not enough to satisfy him... and it doesn't worsen. To Délarbé's confusion, the pain disappears as nothing erupts from the ground.

'What is this?'

He strokes the new symbol, feeling no carving like with the others. Furious, he stomps towards James hanging body. He snatches the sunglasses from his lifeless paw, opens up a curtain to let some light in and looks at his reflection inside one of the glasses. The circle surrounding the symbol is there. But looks more like a vague black chalk-drawing. The axe is only single-bladed.

'Fuck...' sighs Délarbé fed up. He starts to blame all but himself. In a burst of anger, he rips off the curtains and starts thrashing the living room. The flame on his finger expands to a jet flame, almost scorching the ceiling. Black engulfs his eyes leaving only the red dot to be seen. Before being tempted to light the place on fire, the anger subsides. Panting like he ran a marathon on just one half-taken breath, he sees what he has achieved. Everything is a mess and he regrets it. Why? If only he knew. The flame and black return to their original proportions. He needs them for a later occasion. Something he hopes on happening this very night.

'I'll come back to this place. I'm not done here.' states Délarbé as he disappears in the darkness of the house.

'So why are we here again?' asks a really bored Wolf hanging in his chair. He's not even trying to sit. The person he's asking that to isn't the most alert one either. Leon is leaning with his elbows on the keyboard of a shutdown computer. In his left hand, he holds his chin. In the other, a smart phone with which he's playing paddle-ball. The ball is non-existent and the device is the bat. Leon snuffs once before answering.

'Something with our loverboy Panther...' he replies with a shrug.

'Come on guys. Cheer up a little.' says Panther entering the bridge of the Great Wolf, a generic copy of the Great Fox II now standing on Papetoon's soil.

'Cheer up? How?' wonders Leon without thinking about how. He just keeps staring out the window. 'These endless, flat grass fields start to hurt my eyes and kill my mood.'

He drags himself of the keyboards, with the impressions of some keys printed in the skin. He turns to Panther, while still paddling with his phone.

'I'm paddle-balling on my phone because I'm too bored to even think about buying a new one.'

'Oh come on Leon. It's not that bad.' dismisses Panther still very optimistic.

Wolf doesn't agree, shaking his head. 'He's right Panther.'

Sighing and groaning, Wolf climbs out of the chair he was almost submerged in. When he stands upright, he fakes knacking his back to add some more drama.

'We're in this because you lead us here.'

It starts to sound like a blame. 'Guys. Please.' gestures Panther calming. 'It isn't all my fault. I mean... yeah. We're here because of me but... I sincerely have no clue why?'

Back to leaning on his left elbow, again holding his chin up, Leon answers with the "highest" interest: 'Because of an ordeal with Estelle. You know? Your second option?'

Wolf snickers. 'I thought you were loyal to Krystal till dead do you part?' He has to restrain a roaring laugh, just knowing that Panther is full of hot air.

'Not planning to that.' he states proud of himself. 'No way! This guy is never gonna be chained.' He walks towards his chair, very relaxed as he oozes onto it. 'Besides... I'm having the two hottest vixens in all of Lylat and I'm keeping it clean. Jack-fucking-pot am I right!?'

He receives a high-five from Wolf, kinda liking the attitude Panther displays. Panther clearly took over some of Wolf's behavior. Sneaky, a little backstabbing and only loyal to those around him directly.

Leon, not cheerful by a long shot, brings up the subject they were actually discussing.

'The reason why we're here is because you said you send Estelle over here to protect her from "roaming evil". Whatever that is.'

Wolf stands with Leon again. He looks at Panther, expecting an explanation.

'Heh heh. Did I say that?' laughs Panther awkward. 'What if I told you that I was uh...' He tries to hold back a smile, knowing that smiling will get him in trouble.

'You were what?'

'That I was drunk last night.'

Panther can't hold back his laughter but Wolf and Leon don't join.

'We flew here... because you were drunk as fuck?' inquires Wolf restrained. He feels like exploding. A waste of effort for Panther's bullshit. Something that he can't even remember himself.

'I already figured him slurry last night.' adds Leon without any meaning. The tone in which it is said implies the significance Leon feels as a part of the team. Without any meaning.

Wolf looks over to Leon. And back at Panther. A choice between a laughing hyena apologizing in between breaths or a member that has been with him since Starwolf came to life. Someone he has been dragging down ever since Panther became part of this team. A victim of Panther's stupidity so to say, just like he himself is. Wolf lowers his head, sunken in his own thoughts.

'Panther...' speaks Wolf almost inaudible with his head facing the ground.

'...why do you this to us?' His voice is louder and sounds quasi-sad. He lifts his head, just enough to stare Panther in the eye. The glance makes Panther's laughing degrade gradually.

'Wolf? What's the issue? Hehe...' asks Panther awkward. He looks over at Leon, involving him in the matter. 'Hey, you know what's going on?' he whispers at Leon.

'That's enough Panther.' answers Wolf for Leon. 'No more hiding behind others.'

'No hiding behind others? What do you mean by...?'

It feels glorious when Wolf finally erupts. All the time he had been pampering and befriending Panther to make him feel appreciated in the team and leaving Leon with the remnants, only to be kicked in the balls by him. Something way worse than a back-stab. Leon never went away, not one moment. Panther surely did and now this? The disrespectful attitude this member is giving to his superior? Getting this while Leon offers way more?

A direct, powerful, forward punch to Panther's nose is Wolf's answer to all those questions. Panther is immediately knocked out of his chair, clashing on the cold metal floor. Paralyzed by the flail, he remains face down on the ground.

'That is the problem.' claims Wolf without regret for his action. It feels justified and liberating to rid a worthless leech in order to show a real friend some deserved loyalty. 'You're not loyal. Neither to me nor to Leon. Not to Starwolf. Only you. And you have that you to get by. Get out of my eyes traitorous parasite!' yells Wolf dreadful.

Though the switch from 'here's a high five' to 'leave now or I'll have your head' seems radical and sudden, Wolf can think of numerous moments Panther didn't contribute or aligned with the team. This was the last drop. Panther, coming back to Papetoon is completely dumb witted and disoriented. Painful moans are heard when he tries to lifts himself up from the floor. He feels his muzzle and nose; his nose is bleeding and the both feel displaced.

'Y-you... You punched me? W-why?'

'Don't act like a victim Panther. This is what you deserve for every second I stood on your side of things, while I should be on Leon's.'

Leon can't hide his appreciation for Wolf's words. It's like an apology he was longing for. It tastes just as sweet as he imagined it would be.

'Thank you Wolf.' says Leon, giving Panther a venomous smile. 'Thanks a lot.'

Wolf signals not to say thanks. He knows.

'Didn't you hear me Caruso?' asks Wolf forceful. 'Out... of... my... eyes.'

With a little trouble and out of balance, Panther manages to stand upright. He holds his nose squeezed in between his index finger and thumb to stop the blood from flowing.

'I gotta go?' he verifies. 'Out the door?' as in leave Starwolf.

'Out of my eyes. Not the door. My eyes.'

It suggests that Wolf didn't kick Panther out. He just can't look at him right. Panther turns around and approaches the door. Before he places his paw on the scanner to open the door, he turns to Wolf one last time.

'I'm sorry Wolf. Leon.'

Kinda accepting it, Wolf waves him away with a rigid look on his face. The door opens before Panther as he exits the bridge.

'Think about what you've done.' is what Wolf calls after him as the doors to the bridge close. On the bridge itself, Wolf commands Leon nicely to get the, the hell out of here. He's done with this place.

'With all pleasure Wolf.'

With his boredom erased, he hops over the back of his own chair and plumps down into the seat. His eyes scan across trillions of bits and bytes making the mainframe. His fingers type words and commands into the system faster than a Wolfen cuts through the vacuum of space. He feels alive again. All goes great until he sees a small, really small red dot in top right corner of the screen.

*Heh. Probably a dead pixel.* thinks Leon careless as he moves the cursor over to it. He starts to mess around the pixel. It's funnier than expected. Like a good video game with an enjoyable reference or small Easter egg. But something dark hides beneath that innocent looking dot. When Leon clicks on it, a distorted image of himself appears out of nowhere accompanied by a loud feminine scream. Leon is so overwhelmed by the jump-scare that he chokes on a scream, bounces up in the air, misses the chair and lands hard on the floor. Stunned by fear, he's unable to speak. He crawls away from the screen as Wolf comes to his aid.

'Leon. Leon! What happened?' asks Wolf to a terrified Leon who's pointing towards the screen.

'R... Roa... Roam...'

Wolf doesn't understand Leon scrambled babbling. 'Roam what? Who roams?' He feels Leon's bleached forehead; it's burning hot.

*He must have seen Hell itself.* he thinks.

'R-r... Roa... Roaming... Roaming Evil! Roaming Evil!' declares Leon as he repeats it several times. As if it was comparable to summoning Bloody Mary, odd things start to happen. More screens begin to show static. Power turns on and off. Light turns from normal to red and back.

The door of the bridge opens and Panther slides through, holding a blaster. He fires at something before sealing the door shut. Something powerful and roaring starts to ram the other side of the door trying to his or her way in. When it doesn't work, it stomps off. The door received some blows as the middle there is one big dent.

'That was too close.' exhales Panther as he drops the blaster. Panting, he turns his head to Wolf holding a shivering Leon. He clamps on to every bit of almost brotherly love Wolf gives him.

'I see you guys met Roaming Evil too.' deducts Panther dejected. 'I told you something like that didn't I?'

Wolf has no time for this. 'Get your sorry ass over here and gimme a hand. Leon got a freaking heart attack.'

Panther runs to Leon's aid. Together with Wolf, they lift Leon from the ground. With his arms spread out over Panther's right and Wolf's left shoulder, they carry him into the captain's seat. Wheezy, demoralized and looking severely traumatized, Leon hangs on the hand-rails like a man on the deathbed.

'What do we do about him?' asks Panther to a deep in thought sunken Wolf. 'We have to do something.'

'Sometimes it's better not to solve the outcome, but to fight the cause.' states Wolf as he walks towards the main window, his arms behind his back. With a raised head, he stares at a thick forest.

'Someone... this "Roaming Evil", is trying to get into our heads. Turning our second home, our Great Wolf, into a haunted house experience.' He turns to his right and sighs deep. 'And so far... that mofo has done a pretty good fucking job at it.'

One look at Leon should say all. Luckily, the lights and screens turn to normal again.

'We need to protect our home against jackasses like this one.'

'What can I do?' asks Panther inspired.

Wolf walks over to Panther as he places two friendly paws on his shoulders.

'My friend. Your willingness shows your regret, gratitude and dedication to the team. Why would you hide that?'

Panther shrugs. 'I have no clue.'

'Don't use that apologizing tone.' says Wolf motivating. 'I know you will fight for Starwolf. For Leon and me. For our home, I know.' Panther can really see that the leader in Wolf has awoken. He was always there but ever as present like he is now. He almost sounds fatherly. 'When time calls for you to come upon our rescue, I'll call you.'

'Thanks Commander Wolf.' salutes Panther as the feeling of nostalgia hits him, remembering the first time that he was allowed into Starwolf. Wolf pads him on the shoulder.

'Dismissed Caruso. I'll handle Leon. You go do your own things.'

Forgiven and full of life again, Panther leaves the bridge and heads for his own room. He jumps on his bed and exhales satisfied. He lies down, staring at the ceiling. He feels so happy; he just wants to share it.

*And I already with who.* thinks Panther as he grabs his smart phone from his nightstand. He calls speed dial: Krystal 3.

Inside an ordinary hotel alongside a quiet street lies Krystal asleep in her bed. Phantom's black with red stripes painted Chevy is parked next to the hotel. Phantom himself is in a room next to hers. When they arrived, both famished and roasted, they went for a quick snack and then chose the bed. Phantom demanded two rooms with the thinnest wall in between so that he could hear if Krystal needed anything. He sees her as his responsibility and a little as a companion. All the more credit to him.

A loud buzzing wakes Krystal up. Complaining and moaning, she picks up her smart phone, her head not leaving the pillow.

'Hello?'

'Hello Krystal. Am I waking you up?'

Krystal turns to an alarm clock that came with the room. 'A clock here says it's 3 AM so yeah.'

'I do apologize. But was so happy, I figured you might want a slice of it as well.'

She giggles. 'What is it that makes you so happy then?'

'Hearing you for one.'

'Haha. No seriously Panther.'

'Okay then. It's actually a weird story. The guy you are giving chase, the one running rampant across Papetoon, might have visited us.'
'Really?'

'Hmhm. He left Leon in a state of shock.'

'So... that makes you happy?'

'Nono. Wolf and I had a quarrel. I was the aggressor. But he forgave me... not even that. It's the way in how he forgave me.'
'So you wanted to share that with me?'

'Not just by giving you the reason, but also a little extra.' gestures Panther with a deep, suggesting voice. Krystal falls for it.

'What are you planning then?' she replies flirty as she forms a fanged smile.

'Heh heh. You'll feel what I mean soon enough my pretty. Panther will make you feel alright...'

With a drowned expression and sprawled out way of lying all over the lime-green easy-chair, all can see that the haunted house experience he created for the Starwolf crew was not enough to cheer him up. Not even the sudden visit of Channel 7 News reporter Jade and her crew. There were investigating "The strange case of James McCloud and Floyd Derluck". After the fetus of Fox and Krystal's unborn son was found, the family tree was updated, suggesting that James McCloud was alive all this time living under an alias known as Floyd Derluck.

The camera is still working whilst laying on the floor but not it's recording anymore. The tape has been ripped out. Being packed with footage of what happened to the crew, Délarbé keeps it for later. Hopefully when he's not so out of his doing.

Three large empty bottles of Jägermeister are scattered on the floor around the chair as the fourth, now empty, leaves the drinking lips of Délarbé. With a grumpy growl, Délarbé allows the fourth to join the others on the floor.

'Bah! Still not intoxicated.' he complains. He knows very well that he as a demon can't get drunk. Alcohol is a lesser evil. Tasty nonetheless. His eyes move over to James's dead body, now on the ground. The arrow couldn't handle the weight and snapped. There was no pleasure in doing it and it hasn't changed since.

*What's going on with me? I've never experienced this before. Never did I feel such care for a host. I mean, I always had care for a host. Cuisac for example. But it was always that they cared more for me. Now my host hates me and I feel... sad for him.*

Killing his father almost feels like killing his own, the one that saved him from his "uncle" Gilles. He comes to the realization that he can only and truly do his thing, if Fox is along with him.

*He's now a part of me. We need to be one.*

His eyes suddenly open wide. He snaps his fingers and sits upright. 'That's it!' he tells himself as the reason for not acquiring the third symbol because completely clear. 'Fox wasn't there when I impaled his father's head! He was gone, back to the Nether. We didn't do it together.'

The joy makes way for some seriousness. How is he gonna achieve it now? He's still in the process, he didn't fail.

'I need to cut another relation. From someone close to me.' thinks Délarbé out loud. He opens a back door inside of him. 'The premise is there. So... who do I want mess up?'

An idea pops up as an all-embracing grin comes to life. It will cover two things at once. The second thing is a little secret for the person entering the opened back door.

'You said something about messing with Starwolf?' asks Fox rhetorical. 'Count me in.'

'Nice of you to join me Fox. You don't mind killing your father and all?'

'Nah. Not really. Now knowing what a deceiving asshole he has been, I couldn't care less.'

'I could show you some other "deceiving asshole". She's kind of a bitch...' chuckles Délarbé.

Fox knows about who he's talking about. 'Hey!' he warms gruff. 'Don't do that again. Or else I'm outta here. Again.'

A little reluctant, and at the same time proud, Délarbé submits to Fox's demands. Whistling his note, the Sons materialize from the ground. All except one, whose collecting evidence for the second, 'secret for Fox' thing Délarbé has planned. They all jump at Délarbé, until he's completely covered in shadowy goo.

'Aren't they lovable?' comments Délarbé.

'A little too sticky for me.' complains Fox.

'You'll get used to it.'

Délarbé rises from the chair and starts walking towards the hallway, continuing his whistling. Step by step, he sinks deeper through the dark floor.

*Care to join me Fox?* requests Délarbé on his most honest. It's innocent enough so Fox has no trouble; a second after Délarbé resumes, Fox kicks in with a slightly higher pitched variant of the same melody. In a bitter and tense sounding fashion, the two-toned melody would cause shivers all over.

Fox accompanies Délarbé voluntarily for another round of relationship cutting. What is held hidden from Fox and what will Délarbé do with Fox after he has acquired the third symbol?