The Camp of Discipline, the Camp of Wealth, the Camp of Nobility, the Camp of Freedom, and the Camp of Equality. One table, one room, five goals. Subaru had spent a year hunched over a desk, writing letters, visiting cities all across Lugunica, for this. Crusch and Felix, Anastasia and Ricardo, Priscilla alone, Felt and Reinhard, her and Subaru. Now it was her job to see it all through. Unless Subaru had some plan already in the works. She wouldn't blame him if he did.

Crusch Karsten looked them up and down with that powerful gaze, epaulets shining, medals dangling across her chest. She presided over the meeting, as if waiting for petitioners to approach. Her hands were still, only missing a sword to wield against the enemies of Lugunica or a gavel to decide the fate of her subjects. Could Emilia hold either? Could she keep her fingers steady as she decided another's fate? Announced their death?

Anastasia Hoshin was grinning, stroking her scarf's fur. It would've been impossible to miss the Hoshin Company logo stamped into the wall behind her. She had bought the entire hotel for this meeting. The richest woman at the table. Unlike the rest of them, she'd never had the benefit of a title or special birth. She had no magical talent, no weapon, and no shield. This woman had built an empire from nothing, chosen the last name of the greatest man in Kararagi's history, and was living up to it. The weakest person in the room, yet she owned the ground they tread upon. Her entire rise in life she owed to her logistical brilliance, masterful organization, and meticulous planning. Emilia could barely do her hair in the morning.

Priscilla Barielle was lounging, peering out from behind her fan, judging them all. She weighed them openly, no shame or shyness. Like her decision could define all of their lives, no matter their station. She was equal in rank to all the rest of them, yet she held herself so high. Like Volcanica's decision to crown her was guaranteed and all this only a formality. Her fingers drummed up and down on the table, bars of metallic light trailing after. Always a moment away from summoning that sword. Emilia felt for her magic, she had a thousand swords ready. Would they even block that crimson blade? Their eyes met across the table. Priscilla had no trouble holding her gaze. She didn't back down. She didn't question herself. She smiled without hesitation. Everything Emilia wished she could do.

Then—smallest, but not least—there was Felt. She didn't need a last name, or height, or fighting strength, or the full figure of a woman. Even as someone who barely filled her outfit, something you would have found on a thief and not a royal candidate, she cast an imposing figure. Her mind worked beneath those deep red eyes. It grasped everything and everyone in the room, accounting for all of it. And no matter how much strength anyone in the room levied, Felt was certain in her chances. After all, Reinhard sat at her side, his body poised, ready to break the world at her word. Neither Subaru nor Roswaal had a chance of stopping him.

Everyone observed everyone else, gauging where they all sat. She caught more eyes going to Subaru than her. She couldn't bring herself to blame them. That didn't stop her from sitting up straight, from taking everything in, from thinking on how to best use it. One day she would be queen, regardless of their feelings. Regardless of her own.

"Natsuki Subaru," Crusch broke the silence, "we've come here to kill. Let's stop wasting time and take this seriously."

"I agree," Subaru answered, hands held together in his lap. He had that serenity about him. She knew it from the smoothness of his face, the refreshed whites of his eyes, and the stillness of his hands. A man at peace. He'd been like that since Sanctuary. But she remembered what he'd been like before. What if this all fell apart? She couldn't imagine it. She couldn't dismiss the chance.

"Then explain who we're here to kill."

Priscilla was leaning forward now. Subaru responded with, "A monster greater than any Bishop or Beast."

"And what makes you so scared of this thing?" Priscilla asked from behind that fan of hers.

"I'm not scared of her," Subaru responded, "I recognize her danger."

"Needing more than the Sword Saint reeks of fear." the crimson baroness judged.

"Call it caution."

The woman didn't bother with a response.

"Who the fuck is it?" Felt blurted.

Subaru breathed in, out, and set his hands on the table. "Pandora, the Witch of Vainglory."

A murmur ran through the room's occupants.

"The fuck you mean Witch," Felt pointed to Reinhard, who was sitting next to her, "this dickhead's ancestor locked the Witch away." Despite the cursing, and Subaru's announcement, she was calm. Emilia needed to be able to do that, calm was important for a ruler.

"Reid, Shaula, and Volcanica locked away the Witch of Envy," Subaru pointed out, "and six of the others died, but one remains alive."

"You have information on the other Witches?" a curious whisper came from behind Anastasia, it was that man she still didn't know the name of. That knight she should have known.

"Yes," Subaru nodded, "There's Satella of Envy, Carmilla of Lust, Typhon of Pride, Daphne of Gluttony, Sekhmet of Sloth, Minerva of Wrath, Echidna of Greed, and Pandora of Vainglory, whose unfortunately still kicking."

"Echidna?" Anastasia mumbled. Was she peeking at her scarf?

Subaru waved his hand, "Don't worry, different Echidna."

Anastasia's eyes widened. What did Subaru know? Why was she so far behind? How could she discover what he knew? A ruler would need that kind of information.

Crusch ignored the woman's shock and rejoined the conversation, "No lies."

"Lying just gets in the way," Subaru said.

"And what power does she possess to make her so dangerous?" the duchess asked. Emilia struggled to keep track of all the different nuances in Crusch's tone and words. Some mix of anger, caution, and righteousness. A ruler must be able to mix any intent required into their words. So much to learn, so much to observe, so much she had to master.

"She can bend reality to her will and negate the strength of everyone in this room but me."

"Then why do you need us?" Felt asked, "Just kill her yourself big bro."

"I would do that, if she wasn't also in command of the Witch's Cult."

"No lies," from Crusch.

No one spoke after that. Fear, rage, and anxiety mixed together on the faces of camp members, while Priscilla, Anastasia, Felt, and Crusch all stayed calm. They picked apart Subaru's words in their minds. Emilia thought of her thousand swords, all ready, all useless against Priscilla. How could she help Subaru defeat this thing?

"Natsuki Subaru," Reinhard said, unbothered by the revelation. "Is that why you brought us all here? Do you think Priestella is going to be under attack by the Witch's Cult?"

"Yes," Subaru responded.

"How d'ya know that?" Anastasia asked, "The Cult's been silent."

Subaru inched closer to the table, "Because Sirius is here. I told you all about her, yes?"

"Yes," from Crusch.

"If Sirius is here, then Pandora has brought her. And likely Petelgeuse. If she had it her way, Sirius would never leave his side. Did any who felt her effect see her? Did she look happy?"

"She said her husband was coming for a get-together," the knight said. Hadn't Subaru said his name once? Maybe twice?

"Petelgeuse Romanee-Conti is that husband. The Witch's Cult is coming to Priestella."

"How do you know all this, mongrel? This goes beyond the realm of pure intelligence. You know things you shouldn't." Priscilla held a bright fire in her hand, ribbons of light forming the outline of a blade. "Things only a Witch Cultist would know."

"Probably," he answered. Emilia did not believe that was a smart thing to say.

"Big bro?" Felt asked.

The thugs from Felt's camp looked ready for a fight. Felix's eyes were dark. The members of the Iron Fang were about to draw weapons.

Subaru held his hands up, "Don't worry, I'm not a cultist. Pandora just made me an offer once."

"To become a cultist?" Felt said.

"To become a Sin Archbishop."

Heinkel had shifted his hand, touching it to the ground a few centimeters from his sword. Reinhard's face drained of emotion. There was no threat, no accusation, no consideration, no movement toward any weapon. A chill rose on the back of Emilia's neck. How fast could Reinhard rip Subaru in half? Had this been a bad idea? Hadn't all of Subaru's ideas worked out so far?

"Why?" Crusch asked.

"She was mad that I killed her previous Bishop of Gluttony, and she wanted to make me the new one." Subaru explained, anger slipping onto his face. His fingers curled and uncurled, gripping the air, searching for some thread of calm. He breathed deep, nostrils flaring. Most wouldn't notice, if Subaru hadn't lived with her for a year, she wouldn't have either.

"Why tell us this? Why bring us all here in the dark?" an entirely new voice—Felix Argyle. He seemed so small in the corner. There was no fear in his eyes as he questioned the one who might be a Sin Archbishop. Why was Subaru being so stupid?

Subaru set his fists on the table, spirits manifesting around him. His eyes twitched. "I'd rather bite her throat out than work with her."

Emilia felt glares on her. Did he not understand how little those words meant anything? What was his plan? Was he going to tell them all how he'd come to hate Pandora? What she'd done to him? How he'd learned all this, how it made sense for him to know it?

"And if I had joined Pandora, then half of you would already be dead." Subaru said, instead of all that. Emilia ground her teeth together. Why was she angry? Subaru's plans never failed. Why was she doubting him?

All eyes shifted to Ram. Some had heard the stories. Some had been there in person. They all knew how strong Ley Batenkaitos had been. They all knew how little time it had taken Ram to kill the Sin Archbishop.

"And how would you have gone about that?" Priscilla asked.

"I wouldn't have invited the Felt camp to this meeting, and I could have found a way to manipulate Ram into killing you all." Lies often get in the way, Subaru had said. Emilia wondered if there had been a better way to do this. And it was only now she realized this was his plan. He'd already gone around Emilia. Was she that unreliable?

A few whispers passed around; Crusch remained focused on Subaru, "Hard to judge this one. But I don't think he's lying."

"All of us, though?" the lanky one of the thugs asked, a bit skeptical.

"Speaking honestly," Ram addressed the room politely from her place between Garfiel and Rem, "if the Sword Saint wasn't in attendance, I could kill everyone in this room."

"Fool." Priscilla said, denying the words. "The world works in my favor."

"Perhaps that is why Barusu did not choose that path."

The fiery woman smiled, "An idiot girl who thinks she can kill myself." She said it with respect. Emilia couldn't fathom that.

"But would you have gone along with that, Ram?" Crusch asked. Emilia would need a reliable way of separating lie from truth.

Ram's face was blank, "Had Barusu and Pandora been able to convince me it was the only path to achieve the Emilia camp's safety, then I'd have done it."

Reinhard adjusted his gloves. Was he even following the conversation? He met Emilia's glance. There was nothing in his face. No time. That's what it would take for him to destroy Ram and Subaru. Emilia's magic seemed so little, so useless.

Crusch leaned back, unshaken, "Not lying."

"How interesting," Priscilla said, "to think someone so disgusting could win the love of someone so intriguing."

"So he's blackmailing all of us." Felix said. "Lady Crusch, this guy's dangerous."

"This isn't blackmail," Crusch said, "he wouldn't have invited Reinhard. He's made it impossible for him and Ram to take that path, and made them enemies of Reinhard's in case they act in such a manner."

Enemies… Reinhard fixed a button on his uniform. The emptiness was gone. He did not seem to consider them worthy of being enemies. He seemed sad about it.

Anastasia considered him, "I'm on board."

"I am as well," Crusch said, already putting a hand out to silence Felix.

"Let's kill this Witch bitch, eh big bro," Felt slammed her hand on Reinhard's shoulder, "and if you do anything, this big guy's killing ya." Emilia couldn't tell whether it was a joke, threat, or promise. She frowned. Subaru had done it, gone around her completely. Everything had been taken care of, from arranging the meeting to negotiating with the candidates. She should be proud of him.

Priscilla pulled her fan away from her face, and pushed it into her cleavage. The woman stood from her spot at the table. "Half-devil." The woman loomed above Emilia, lips curled. "Tell me, do you trust the disgusting mongrel that is Natsuki Subaru."

Ram moved to speak, but Priscilla yanked her fan back out and shoved it in her direction, "Not from you, demon. You're sure of everything you say. All your words hold some meaning." She focused back on Emilia. "But the simpering girl is different. Half the things she says are meaningless drivel better forgotten and left to rot in the muck like her. If she can say she trusts the fool of fools with certainty and weight, then I'll join in this endeavor."

Emilia stood, taking her time, keeping her balance. She reached for her magic. If she messed this all up badly enough to cause a fight, she'd be ready to win it. Her eyes met Priscilla's, perfectly even with them. The red woman wasn't looking down on her, and she wasn't looking down on Priscilla.

Emilia said with absolute certainty, "I trust Natsuki Subaru."

Their eyes bored into each other's, lavender and crimson, silver and orange, pride and humility. Knowledgeable and grasping to learn. Confident and confident.

"Very well, I will join this crusade of yours."

Roswaal kept his hand from touching Beatrice's head. She was walking alongside him, drills bouncing up and down. Subaru was patting her hair, and he didn't want to mess with the two. They had such a wonderful friendship, almost like brother and sister in the way Beatrice smiled at him, and Subaru returned that slightly more happy blank face. It was almost the same look Subaru gave to Ram, just without the tiny blush.

He put his hands together, rubbing them in front of his stomach and looking around. The same sense of…irritation…was still hanging over the city. He'd been a lord—sometimes a lady—for four centuries, he knew what a city on the brink of riot, or rebellion, felt like. The constant grumbling instead of chattering. The way street orphans stalked at the edge of shadows in their alleys. The frantic buying at market stalls, far less haggling than normal. And the way people were staring at him. A strange mix of bewilderment, confusion, and—once they recognized him—loyalty.

These people were desperate, searching for someone to follow. Unfortunately, he had a stellar reputation. For all his horrible deeds people liked and respected him. He tightened his fist, desperately holding it from pounding into his own chin. These people should recognize him for what he was. He should be the object of their hatred.

They should all sprint at him, hound him, tear him apart—

"Hey Ros," Subaru jammed his fingers into his arm, "I can feel that."

Of course he'd even be able to hurt them in his self-pity. He may have had some strength, he may be able to change his methods, but he was still the same person. Still what he needed to be to make all the sacrifices mean something. Still the monster named Roswaal L. Mathers.

"Take it easy on yourself," Subaru said, "and focus, Sirius is somewhere around here."

Roswaal bit his lip to stave those thoughts off, and looked around the city square they'd arrived in. The same signs from earlier were all present here.

"That's quite easy toooooo see."

Subaru shook his head, "Yeah, we just need to find her."

"That's obvious, in fact." Beatrice said, her arms crossed.

Roswaal looked down at her, pushing a small smile on his face. Oh how he hated that stubborn annoyance. The open contempt. The quirk of her lips that made him wonder if he was about to come upon some trick of Yin magic. The way she turned her back on him. Beatrice didn't hate him. What a terrible thing.

"Ros," Subaru said, pulling him from his mind once more.

"Yeeeees?" he asked. Subaru was standing strong against the discontent of Priestella.

"Do you know what time it is?" the man asked, a touch of worry sneaking onto his face. A crack in Natsuki Subaru. It was like a crack in the mountains, a gap in the sky, an island in the Great Cascade.

Roswaal stared up into the sky, the sun was…there…burning. So beautiful, so powerful, so right.

"It's afternoon, a little past noon, I suppose," Beatrice said, impatient with his antics.

He pulled his eyes from the sun, and looked into the water of the nearest canal. It was a meter away, and sprays from the water dragons were getting his clothes wet. In a way it was refreshing, inviting. What if he dove in and stayed down… Beatrice would teleport him out, he supposed.

"Yeah, exactly," Subaru's voice didn't seem so far away and above it all anymore. It was like he'd finally turned his attention to the world. A hand landed on Roswaal's shoulder, firm and confident, "C'mon Ros, we need to head for city hall."

"Whyyyyyy?" he asked, looking in the direction of the building.

Subaru was facing the same way, with Beatrice holding his hand—he wished she'd hold his hand, crush it. "The daily announcements should have happened by now."

"Then why are we still standing here?" Beatrice asked, "Betty's going to push you if you don't get moving, in fact."

Subaru shook his head, "Never change, Beako."

"Hmph," the girl grunted, "like Betty's ever going to change. No matter how much happens, Betty's gonna be the same, in fact." Roswaal remembered when Beatrice had not a care in the world except for reading stories to Ryuzu and trapping him in door loops.

Roswaal watched as the man's lips tilted down, in an almost melancholic way. Subaru tapped her head. "I wish I'd get to see it never happen." He flicked one of her drills. "But that's for the world to wait for and never get."

To wait for and get. Roswaal loved Beatrice, and he'd seen her whole journey. This was not the same little girl who'd done nothing but cry about Ryuzu in her crystal. "As long as you remain yourself, Betty…" Roswaal said, voice empty, "then there'll always be someone to read to."

She turned to him, and the perpetual scowl seemed to fade for a brief moment. It was the Beatrice of old, all that remained of the innocent little girl, and the Beatrice of now, with all that despair. Both of them in the same glance. Maybe it could've been called hope.

"What did Betty say, I suppose? Get moving." She jumped over to Roswaal and shoved him, hard enough he went tumbling toward the canal. He hovered above the water, untethered from the earth. Floating above a Priestellan canal, as a water dragon passed, Roswaal L. Mathers understood the Jealous Witch very well.

"Alright, no need to push Ros. Push Sirius instead," Subaru started in the direction of city hall.

"Betty's not sorry, in fact." the girl said as she began walking along, for a second seeming like an innocent girl as she reached for Subaru's hand. The two moved shoulder to shoulder, aside from Beatrice's shoulders being far lower. Roswaal allowed himself a small smile, and floated after them. The weird looks he got from people were all that reminded him to drop back to the world.

"What do youuuuu expect us to find?" he asked Subaru.

"Pandora being an idiot," he answered.

"What will you do when this city goes up in flaaaaames?"

Subaru stared at him.

Roswaal tilted his head, "It is wilful ignoraaaaaance if you don't think this city's going to be…damaged…by Pandora and the Witch's Cult."

The man was still silent.

"The Witch's Cult has been entirely silent, on heeeeeer order if you are correct." He swept his arms around, toward the people with furrowed brows, the street urchins eyeing things like vultures, and specifically the little blonde girl who was licking her lips. "This city is her move Naaaatsuki Subaru. It may be tasteless of meeeee, but you've spoken as if this city isn't a fire stone for Pandora to blow up in your face."

"It's fine." Subaru said.

"Will you reseeeet to perfection?"

Subaru tightened his grip on Beatrice's hand, then sighed, "You know what I'm gonna do Roswaal?"

"If I did, I wouuuuuldn't be asking, would I?"

The man ignored him. "I'm not going to reset to perfection, not anymore."

"And the women or childreeeeeen you could save?"

Subaru's lips tilted down, and he stared at Roswaal…no, beyond him, "I won't reset, I won't be manipulated. I'll save everyone. I won't regress into the man I once was."

Beatrice stared between them as he continued, "We can change, Ros, for the better, and for the worse. If I do what I did in the past…" Subaru looked out across the masses of people, going about their days, maybe a bit angrier than usual, "Then I'll make one of the old mistakes I made."

"I understaaaand." Roswaal said, too quietly for Subaru to hear. He knew what it was like to delude himself into hypocrisy too.

"If I…value one person too much…if I let everything become gray…if I try resetting to make everything perfect…if I try to make that a habit…then it'll be worse for everyone."

Subaru finally turned back to Roswaal, and once more the clown was faced with a being far older than him. A being that stood like an oak tree, firm, unshakeable, but still prone to shattering if the wind was too strong. Yet even with all that, he still deluded himself. What hope did Roswaal have?

But maybe, just maybe he was wrong. Roswaal needed to know, "Whaaaaat will you do instead?"

And Subaru's frown was gone, no smile replaced it. "I'll ask for some help."

Roswaal chewed on that as they kept walking. What if he asked for help? Why was he even entertaining that? No one would give it. No one in their right mind would help him. No one would care enough. No one would believe their help would mean anything for him. No one could love him enough to try.

Ram would make him strong, but she wouldn't agree to help him bring back Teacher, to make the sacrifices worth it.

He bumped into the person in front of him, jostling him from his thoughts, "Excuuuuse me, apologies."

But there wasn't just one stray pedestrian in front of him…there was an entire wall of people, as far as he could see. Each one staring up, toward the city hall building, towering above the great square. Somehow, there was only silence. There wasn't a single bird in sight. No bugs chittered…there were even children in attendance, toddlers, babies, yet none made a sound as they stared.

Roswaal followed their gaze. A groan rose, so loud above the total silence it reverberated across buildings, echoing and spreading across the city and back. Resonating.

His eyes caught up with his ears, and there above the city were a dozen crosses.

One for each of the members of the Priestellan Council of Ten. And there were two extra. One for Dynas, leader of the White Scales, who Roswaal had familiarized himself with before coming here. The other for Liliana Masquerade, the bard who'd taken up residence in the city. The old men from the council were all sinking lower on the cross, unable to support themselves fully. They started making an odd mix of groaning, sobbing, and heavy breathing. How was it all so easy to hear?

"Ros," Subaru whispered, his voice covered by the council's cries, "get a close look."

He nodded, weaving magic together till he could see as if there was only a meter between him and the mend. Had he not been alive for so many years, he might have vomited, or at least gagged. Now, he only shifted his weight back as he stared at the condemned.

Each was stripped nude, with thick iron nails driven through their hands. The men were all focused, trying not to slip. It was clear why. They all had a nail driven through their manhoods, if they fell too far then it'd tear apart like a rag. All of their lips, including Liliana's, were pursed as their arms strained. Tears slid down their faces. One man started blubbering, his weeping growing loud above all the others. People watched in the same stunned silence. And all the other victims quieted. The sobbing man was old, his arms were like sticks. He seemed so weak, maybe in better times he'd have been like a grandfather. Today he was like a sobbing child. His face strained as he held himself up, desperately.

His cries gave way to a determined silence as he fought the weakness of age. Roswaal found he had his own streaks of tears. Maybe he should have lit the signal, called for everyone in the city to regroup, but his heart held him. Sirius was there somewhere. He couldn't take his eyes off the naked old man, desperately struggling. Everything was solemn.

The elder screamed out in defiance, an old voice, grisly, on the edge of breaking.

He crossed the edge. His voice broke. His scream lost all defiance. His arms gave out. His body dropped, and the nail in his manhood turned the punctured wreck into a bloody flower. His scream was agonizing, like nails on a chalkboard. Then he sank as far as the spikes in his hands would allow. His silent suffocation was worse than his shout.

It was just an old man, who'd done his best to help Priestella, now hanging by his hands, suffocating.

They were all so helpless, standing there, doing nothing.

What would anything he tried do? He was a watcher. He was weak. He was powerless.

Another fell, with that sickening tear of skin, that thrashing, that wheezing, that screaming. Another collapsed. Another tear, another scream, another one silent. Nothing, they could do nothing as the next fell. Another. The fifth, bringing a new voice of screams, and more despair. The sixth fell. The seventh. The eighth. The ninth.

Kirataka Muse, Lilana Masquerade, and Dynas remained. They struggled in silence. Maybe they could hold themselves up until someone did something. Not him though, never him, too weak. Hopefully. Hopefully they wouldn't scream till their throats ran red, and then kept screaming. Dynas was falling to Sirius, to their hopelessness, and there was nothing any of them could do. Their emotions were destroying his will to fight. His chest sank. He gave up. He fell. His penis ripped to bloody shreds, his eyes filled with tears. There wasn't a sound in all the city, in all the world, in all of time. This moment was all there was, all there had ever been, all there would be. Till Dynas broke. Till he cried. Till his muscles were clenched tight. His face was full of regret. He was trying to pull himself back up, to undo what he'd done. Roswaal knew better than any what a delusion that was. What was done was done.

Dynas' gurgled, his strength giving way. He asphyxiated with the others. Roswaal was utterly useless, all he'd done was let himself see better. And now he was watching as Kirataka and Liliana exchanged one gaze, probably their final one. Was that a desire to be close to each other? A desire for friendship? Laughter? More?

Either way. What was done was—

Lilana opened her mouth. There was no scream. In its place rose a single note, undiluted, untainted, pure. Purer than Beatrice, purer than Ryuzu Meyer, purer than a world free of witches. As pure as Clind's wish. Then more. Notes became syllables. Syllables became words. Words became stanzas. Stanzas became verses. Verses became song. A song which made everyone watching fall under its spell. A song full of every emotion the Songstress felt.

Despair. Triumph. Pain. Healing. Loss. Connection. Anguish. Exuberance. Hate. Love. It was an effect more captivating than Sirius' profane ability could ever be. And the song continued, unending, unstoppable. Even when Kirataka fell. Heartache. Fear. Guilt. The slow and inevitable understanding that any song would be utterly futile. Her voice held Sirius at bay, but enraptured them. They were content to let the tears run down their faces. In the grand scheme of things this changed nothing. None would help her. Their tears would feed the earth, and her blood would be the second course. Yet she sang anyway. Not out of some altruism. Not out of some selflessness. She was just dying. Out of options. All she could do in the face of death was the thing she'd dedicated her life to.

In the end what else could any of them hope for?

She fell. The song was done.

Roswaal breathed for the first time since the beginning of this, and saw the woman standing at the base of the crosses. She was covered in bandages, dancing back and forth to the memory of Liliana's song. At her side was a lone being with stark platinum hair. Pandora, arms open to the world. It looked toward her, waiting on her. The birds, the bears, the bugs, the lions, the men, the women, and the Od Laguna were all her audience. Existence took a breath, afraid.

"Ros send up the signal, we have to go." Subaru's voice was frantic, he knew they'd lost time, they'd let Pandora gain an upper hand.

Roswaal shoved his palm into the air, and let a gout of flame loose.

The inferno climbed into the sky, drawing sweat from his pores with its heat, and sending people crawling over themselves to get away from it.

"Run," Subaru grabbed Beatrice's hand and yanked her into a sprint. "We have to regroup with the others, or she'll bury you two a kilometer under Augria."

The three ran from the crosses with all their might. What else could they do? Sirius had made this the only option. Somehow—through the chaos, the screaming, the trampling stampede of all the cowards—they still caught that voice, that whisper. As if no sound in the world could drown it out.

"I extended my hand to you, Natsuki Subaru. You could have been my greatest Sin Archbishop." Pandora sighed. "Still, I am kind. I let you work for a year, to build up your force, assemble your allies, and uncover the secrets of the world. But today is the end of my kindness. Show me what you have gathered."

Roswaal cast a glance over his shoulder.

The clouds had pulled back, shying away from the Witch of Vainglory's presence. There were no rays of light around her. The sun was just as scared. "I await."