Whether I'm running or flying, I can't tell. All I known is that I'm moving quickly, yet it feels like I'm barely making progress. These are the walls of my home, marble and scarlet, adorned with paintings, busts, and tapestries… All lie torn and broken, desperately clinging to the walls, or sadly fallen on the floor.

A floor littered with the corpses of humans and monsters alike. The Hunters, who raided us, causing this destruction, and the guardsman, servants, and nobles of our house, whether they attempted fight or flight, were slaughtered all the same.

They exist in my peripheral vision, giving me an indication to my progress down this seemingly endless hallway, while my eyes remain focused on the scene I'm rushing towards.

Flan is leaning against Laevateinn, breathing heavily, her bat-like wings drooping. Before her stands a shrouded figure. She swings weakly and the figure dodges, retaliating with a flash of silver. Flan falls face first to the ground. The figure grabs hold of her wing.

It feels like the wind is tearing into my face as I rush towards her, but she's still so far away.

The figure places a foot between Flan's wings and pulls on them both. She screams. Screams in agony that distorts the air around her, painting the light itself in dark red. I can see her wings stretch further and further, threads of sinew desperately clinging to her back. She's still so far away.

Suddenly, I reach them, but the figure grabs me by the throat and tosses me to the ground. My body goes limp. All I can do is watch as the figure makes one final exertion, ripping the wings from Flans back, with a fountain of blood, and a shrill, deafening screech.

I make it to my knees, and find myself flanked by Patchy and Meiling. Meiling jumps into action. After a furious dance of limbs and flashing silver that lasts only a moment, Meiling falls to the ground, covered in wounds. There is no movement, aside from the weakly gushing streams of blood.

Patchy releases a burst of flame, but the figure is already beside her. In the next moment, Patchy is on the ground, both her dress and the floor beneath her growing more and more red.

Suddenly I'm rushing towards the figure. They lift Flan by the neck, putting her between us. I stop dead in my tracks. Her eyes are empty, staring lazily off to the side, at nothing. Dark red, viscous liquid drools from her mouth.

"Big sis?" Her voice emits from the corpse, lips unmoving. "Where are you?"

Flan? Flan, I'm right here!

"I'm scared… I'm cold…"

I'm right here, Flan. It's okay. It's going to be okay.

"Why aren't you here? Why am I all alone…?"

You aren't alone. I'm here. I'll protect you.

"You can't." Her heads moves, as if yanked by a puppeteers string. She looks me in the eye, and her lips now match the words she speaks. "You were too late."

…

I awaken, shivering and out of breath. My eyes focus on Flan, asleep beside me. In the near total darkness, broken by a single candle, I see her sleeping face. I put my hand over her barely open mouth and feel her shallow, unsteady breath. She's fine. Of course she's fine. It was just a nightmare. My chest tightens at the thought of just what 'fine' means. No. She's not fine. Nothing is fine anymore. But… We're still alive. I feel marginally more relived, but my wings are still heavy.

Patchy is asleep at her desk, her face wrinkled with stress. She's alive, too. As if to contest my internal statement, she stirs and her eyes open as she stretches with a groan. She quickly notices me. "How'd you sleep?" She asks.

"Poorly."

"Better than 'terrible'?"

"Somewhat."

I crawl out of bed and stretch. Flan stirs behind me. As I get dressed, I notice Patchy eyeing me.

"You've been in a good mood lately," she observes. "It's weird."

I laugh under my breath. "What's so strange about that? Am I not always rather positive?"

"You've just been a little more… Sprightly, I guess. These past few days." She yawns again. "Reminds me how much of a kid you are."

"Jealous?"

"That you aren't going insane from stress?" She snaps back. "No, not at all. I love being stuck in here. It's wonderful!"

Her mix of anger and forced nonchalance takes me off guard. "…My apologies," I respond, unsure what else to say. "I didn't mean to sound-"

"No, it's fine," Patchy says with a sigh. "Just… I don't know." She shakes her head, then offers a cup of tea to break the tension. I accept, sitting on a stool by the bed.

Patchy's eyes scan me in two quick motions. "You've brought back a surplus of blood," she notes, glancing to the boxes in the corner of the room. "Along with other supplies. Tea, bandages, tools… Thanks."

"Why thank me? We're all doing our part." I smile. "Not that I object to praise."

Her eyes narrow. "Suddenly, I don't have any more to give."

I laugh, dryly and quietly. "A shame." I stand, returning the tea cup to it's saucer. "I'd best be off, then. To earn more praise~."

"Hey, wait." Patchy stands and grabs my wrist. The air in my throat becomes stale. "Why are you heading out?"

"…Surely you're joking?" I pull my hand away, maintaining my composure. "To gather blood and supplies, obviously. Is there anything specific you need?"

"Nothing. We have plenty of supplies, Remi." She gestures to the numerous boxes by her desk. "If we keep rationing like we have been, you shouldn't need to go out again for a while."

"But there's no telling what could come up." Just let me go. Please. "Weather for one thing. This country gets a lot of rain and we've been getting lucky that there hasn't been much. I don't exactly do well in rain, you know."

"Rain… Could be an issue, yes…" she admits. "But… I think I'm close."

"…Close?" Patchy darts her eyes towards the door, then to Flan, who seems about to wake, and finally back to me. My own eyes widen. "A-Are you saying-"

"It's not perfect, so don't get too excited," she warns in a hushed voice. "But with the progress I've made… I'd say just a few more days."

I… Don't know what I'm feeling. Relief, anxiety, excitement, jealousy… The weight in my chest jumps into my throat, nearly choking me, until Patchy puts her hand on my shoulder. "You can stay here, Remi." Her voice is softer. "With with your sister."

She's really going to be okay? I swallow the lump. No. I can't just take it easy. I haven't earned that right back yet. The pain gets the corners of my eyes wet. I blink them dry. There's still work to be done. Then… Then we can…

I sigh. "Hardly an excuse, Patchy," I say with a shrug. She gives me a puzzled look. There's something so, very amusing about seeing a scholar with such an expression.

"Remi, what are you…?"

"Flan's health isn't the end of this, Patchy." I force down my theatrics for the time being. "You remember what comes after that, yes?"

She looks away. "The siege… We still need to take back the mansion." She sighs. "No, Remi, I didn't forget. I've just been more focused on Flandre, but…" For a split second, she glances at me, before furthering the subject. "I've sent the little devil to scout it out, and sure enough, it's still crawling with Hunters."

"They surprised us last time," I say. "We will have the advantage of surprise this time. Once Flan is back on her feet and Meiling returns…"

"Clear it out and transport it in one move," Patchy finishes. "We've been planning since we arrived."

"And that, my dear magician, is my new primary objective," I state with a bow. "I don't want to put Flan in danger again. When we storm the mansion, we are killing everything in there. That is why, in addition to collecting supplies, I've been preparing. Training and thinking. I refuse to rest on my laurels when there are still preparations to be made."

"Care to share those preparations you've been working on? I might even praise you for it."

I laugh. "We're all doing our part, Patchy. Concern yourself with your own, not mine."

"Sis…?" We turn towards the newly awoken Flan as she rubs her eyes.

I quickly move to her side and help her sit up. "Good morning, Flan," I say, sure to keep my voice gentle. "How did you sleep?"

"…Nightmares."

I sharply inhale. "Ah… Me too." I look towards Patchy, who shakes her head. No wing talk. Figures. I help Patchy remove Flan's bandages and give her some pain killing and disinfectant medicine, some orally, some slathered on her back. Afterwards, the little devil takes her to the washroom.

An awkward moment of silence passes as Patchy and I watch her go. Not in the mood to talk, is she? I can't possibly imagine how awful her nightmares are. I only witnessed a glimpse of the… 'Event'. With what she went through…

"Remi…" Patchy begins. Her voice shocks me back to reality.

"Well, I best be off," I interrupt. I grab some equipment – less than usual, considering our surplus – and head for the door. Not being weighed down as much is rather pleasant.

"Hey, Remi!" I hear Patchy moving towards me.

I turn towards her. "Thank you, Patchy." She stops. "I'm more grateful for everything you've done than you can possibly imagine. More than I could ever repay, really… But let me try." I turn away, but keep my eyes on her. "I have a plan. Trust me."

After a moment, Patchy breathes a long sigh and falls into her chair. "You're not as smart as you think you are, Remi. …But I've known you long enough to know that I'm not gonna change your mind. Get out."

I give her a wide smile, she fails to hide a grin, and I happily oblige her request.

An oddly good mood, hmm…? Is her affect on me that noticeable? Izayoi really has been quite the boon, and I imagine she'll only grow more useful with time. Never did I think I'd grow so interested in a human… So much so that I might be losing myself. Control yourself, Remilia. She's still potentially dangerous, and not on a leash. Maintain authority, and remember: She isn't what's important. The goal is.

The slaughter of every bastard that took our lives away from us.

I glance behind me. Only a moment later do I question the action. I take a deep breath to keep myself calm as I stride towards the city.