DanMachi: The Tale of Ansem

by kaziquad

Spoilers in Review Some time has passed since the Daedalus street outbreak and the terror that wrought itself upon the Dungeon. For some it sees that things have gone back to normal. For others their trials continue when the Dungeon cries out, sending Orario into a standstill. And when a sole survivor from the Deep Levels escapes to the safety point, Rivira, only questions remain..

26. Vol II PII- To Become

Part II - To Become

1.

Riveria stood still as she gazed upon the figure before her in the archives. Who it was, was none other than the man who was able to run away from the life and responsibility in the Elven forest. A man who escaped his fate to play adventurer, to play hero.

To run away, to flee, all in an attempt to soar so high, only to end up locked away in the back of the Guild with a dead end job. A place where no one would be able to see him.

Perhaps he knew, maybe a part of him understood how much he had fallen. And whatever honor he has in him allowed him to stay sane enough to experience some semblance of shame. Yes, maybe that's why he's here. Alone.

And here he stood, locked away with some ignorant grin as he must fully accept her status. The status that had come from the transfer of powers within the kingdom that she called home.

It was almost pitiful, and the sensation that wrought itself in her stomach was akin to someone's fist squeezing and twisting her gut. And though she may never admit it or say it aloud, as that was not her way. But she reserved a special dark place in her heart for this man. For her uncle Etorre Ljos Alf.

"Damn you."

The smile that was once on Etorre's face faded as the silence filled the void where normally a conversation between family would take place, an equally confused look appeared on his face with the faintest of sharpness around his amber eyes.

"Well?" He said, waiting patiently as he leaned against the front of his desk.

Riveria stood in silence for a few seconds no more, savoring the silence, the final moments before she would have to indulge in this man's desire for conversation. Reaching into her pocket she drew out a slip of paper with a number of figures on it.

"SC13-P4. Do you know where it is?" Riveria asked in a plain tone that would've been more likely to be heard from Aiz. Erecting walls between them.

Etorre crossed his arms and rested one under his chin as he sat in contemplation. Taking his pointer finger against his cheek.

"Go backwards one aisle to your left, and travel until just after the first junction. There'll be a section starting with 'SA' and ending with 'SD.'" Perhaps sensing Riveria's mood, Etorre complied with her request.

Following his direction, she traveled down the narrow corridor where the shelves full of the history of Orario passed her by in a blur. Determined to make quick work to find it, all to reach her main goal of leaving this place.

Counting down the sections after passing the junction, she slowly came to a stop as her eyes began intensely scanning the section designated 'SC.'

As Etorre sat, he mumbled the section over and over again to himself.

"SC13-P4.." Each time, he tapped his finger against his chin. Wondering why that one escaped his mind.

Sitting there, he could hear the faint tapping of the soles of her shoes against the hard floor as he thought. Reaching back to the furthest parts of his memory.

Working backwards from the section 'SD' he tried to follow the details of each file that he had personally become acquainted with over his years in the service of this city.

"Esquer's tales..? No that's not it. Nor would it be the Matter of Magri." These names would bear no weight to anyone who heard them. The sole reason was that these names of events haven't been spoken for years.

How long? Well, that's just a matter of the event itself and how it was organized within the section. The time in which events took place in the 'S' section of the archives varied greatly because they by all means moved to 'S' section for disposal. There were some rules that the Guild had imposed upon the Archives. Their main reasoning was that there were too many files to keep as time went on. But he knew better for most of them.

But as his memory went back he stopped and became still.

"Oh." Etorre said as an unpleasant memory came back to him.

His eyes traveled to where he would expect his dear little niece to be.

Her finger scrolled over the spines of folders and leather bound books. Before her lay every and any combination of letters and words. But none were the ones that she sought. Turning to the shelf behind her, she glanced at her notes that she had requested from the Guild. But still nothing.

There wasn't a single thing about anything that Mathis had said.

It was as if it had never happened.

Vishnu, the Harbinger. None of it.

"There's nothing here.." Riveria said faintly to herself, expecting the words to be absorbed by paper surrounding her. But unknowingly the sound was picked up by Etorre's own ears.

She had contemplated that maybe she was in the wrong section, that maybe it was misplaced. Though knowing Etorre and his particular passion for tales, she knew that he would never allow that to happen.

Giving the shelves surrounding her one last glance. Hoping that maybe she had just missed it and that she won't have to come back here a second time. And yet there lay nothing before her eyes that she needed.

"This was a waste of time." The words quietly escaped her lips.

The soles of her shoes tapped against the fine floor that never seemed to suit the archives, and as the paper and shelves absorbed each step it sounded faintly muffled. Like someone listening with water in their ears. Stepping in the main aisle, to her left Etorre sat still patiently watching Riveria as she stood in silence. To her left was the exit.

"By chance, may I see that list?" Etorre asked while reaching out his open hand.

Her eyes danced briefly from his own and then to his hand, before she turned to the door.

"There's nothing here. I don't know what use it'd be." Riveria said plainly, with the slightest hints of defeat. Having wasted her time and emotional energy being in the presence of this man, she began to the door.

"If you desire to run away from the answers before you, then you will only leave yourself open to disappointment and failure." They were words that held no malice but a kind warning. But that was not how Riveria interpreted them as she glared into the grain of the wooden door.

"Run away? That's rich coming from you." The words slipped from her mouth. Despite all of her years composed and the posture that she had learned to maintain these damned words escaped her lips. Immediately she regretted them, as now was not the time for petty arguments over things that could not be changed.

She sighed as if to exclaim her disappointment to herself, if she could take the words back she would. But in the end she mentally prepared herself for retaliation.

"So that's what they told you.." Etorre quietly said. Words that held a certain solemn tone of a truth that had never been revealed until now. And certainly she knew what he meant. The words of her parents.

Turning to him, she saw Etorre sitting cross-armed as he took a deep breath in as he aimed his sharp gaze to the corner of the shelves as if processing Riveria's words.

"No matter." Etorre said, feigning indifference. "SC13-P4. You're looking for information on the deity Vishnu. Is that right?"

Riveria nodded.

"Yes, that's right.."

"Well then, come here and let me see that list."

Riveria's eyes danced along the shelves that made up the archives.

"None of it is here. I checked."

Etorre couldn't help but offer her an unamused look on his face, as she denied the most obvious fact of all about her uncle.

"That's what you keep saying, but you of all people should know,-" He said as he walked around to the back of his desk where his chair was at the ready and waiting for him. With his back towards the glass with a bountiful garden behind him, he stood confidently but with a warmth that was reminiscent of their time together when she was younger. The nights that he'd carried a new book into her room to calm the restless mind of a child. They were pleasant times before she truly understood the life that was before her.

"-That I could never forget a story."

Politely gesturing for her to have a seat, she stood still as she processed his words. All in all they were true. He'd often bring a book, but more times than not that was just for show. And the tales he'd recite she often wondered as a child, whether or not they were completely off the cuff.

And perhaps it seemed that she may finally get that answer that was at the bottom of her list. Though he acted as if he had never changed. The kindness of this man was almost infuriating. Not because there was a feeble air, but the history that lay between them. And still throughout all of this time, he still wore the same tight fitting clothes that hugged his skin under his uniform, up to his neck and down to the knuckles of his hands.

With no words she approached the seat that was set aside the shelves on the left, handing him the note she took her seat.

He was still the same.

Complacent. Indulgent.

Quite possibly alone with nothing left but the stories of days past to keep him company.

With amber eyes scanning the document they were focused, not a gaze with adrenaline, no but heaviness. Sliding his thumb down the first few, he mumbled off their section designations and peered into the shelves. Visualizing the where, what and how long. Completely and utterly absorbed in memory.

"That's right.." Etorre said softly with a hoarseness. The new development did not provoke any reaction from Riveria who sat still and watched.

"All of these things have something in common, except for one. Did anyone see a silver winged serpent?"

Riveria shook her head. "No, I didn't either."

"I know you didn't, if you did you wouldn't be here." Etorre said matter-of-factly as he took a pen and crossed out the corresponding file to the silver winged serpent. "Most people aren't quick enough to look away from the damn thing and run. But I'm getting off topic."

Putting the pen back into the cup holder to his right he gave her back her list and leaned back into his chair as he interlocked his fingers over his heart.

"You were right when you said that the files weren't here."

"They were disposed of?"

Etorre nodded as rocked his chair gently and spun it to gaze at the garden behind him.

"Mhm. Disposed of. Burnt to ash. Spread amongst the earth to bring it full circle." His gaze lingered on the garden that sprawled through the courtyard of the Guild. A plethora of flowers ranging for bright and saturated colors to more neutral colors of white, grey and black spotted the garden. Diverse was one word that came to mind, and another was well kept. Though as if gravity had any effect on his vision, his gaze slowly lowered to the soil of his garden. "A damn shame, really. It didn't even make for good dirt."

"But I must ask, what happened that drew you to these things? Something must've drawn you to this all." Said with a sudden curiosity as he turned to her.

Riveria's face flickered with confusion as the question caught her off guard.

"You didn't feel the city shake yesterday?.."

"No, there's a new familia building a home a couple of blocks down. It's been rumbling all week." His face said it all, he was purely oblivious to the city and the standstill. All of it. Surely he of all people would've known with the Guild being the primary force to declare the Dungeon off limits. "I suppose there was one rather large tremor, but it didn't draw my concern immediately."

Riveria tried to string the words together in her mind as Etorre patiently waited.

"The thing that caused the ground to shake was the summoning of a monster. It practically killed everything up to the first safe point." Her face grew serious as her eyes locked onto Etorre's as she slowly spoke emphasizing the information that he should be more than aware of. "Entire groups of adventurer's killed. Monsters reduced to their stone hearts. It killed without bias. I've never seen that level of malice in a monster before."

"I'm sure you have." Etorre said dismissively. Though they were sincere words said with the vague intention of celebrating the amount of experience that Riveria had, she couldn't allow those words to bring such ignorance.

"No." She said suddenly. "I have not."

In the past twenty four hours, she could say with confidence that she held herself composed throughout the majority of the events that had transpired. But that doesn't mean she wasn't concerned, terrified, or stressed. Basic human and elf emotions, especially in regards to such a threat. And if what Mathis had said were true, then she had every reason to feel that way.

"We had to throw everything we had at it once we came into contact with it.." Her locked onto her uncle's as her memory drew back to the time back on the twenty-fourth floor. Though the battle was brief, it was overwhelming having to utitlize everything they had at their disposal in such a short amount of time to overwhelm the beast with pure power.

A blitzkrieg.

"Even then that didn't seem like it was going to be enough." Riveria said firmly.

"It's name..?" Etorre asked flatly.

"Excuse me?" Her eyes flickered.

"This monster, this-... thing. Do you know it's name?"

"We learned that it's called the Harbinger." Riveria finally said after taking a second to herself. "But the harbinger of what? I'm not sure. Death seems too convenient. That creature's existence makes no sense. How could far would someone have to go to find it?.."

Etorre took a breath and crossed his arms as he sat watching his niece ramble off her thoughts. She couldn't dam the flow of words, they just simply flowed, with quite possibly the best person in front of her to listen. The keeper of the archive.

"Further than anyone would dare I imagine." He squinted his eyes as a thought flashed behind his eyes. A revelation or memory solely for him. "But there are a few reports of a certain pair of familias venturing into the depths of the Dungeon on an expedition."

Riveria sat in silence as she patiently waited for more information.

"They encountered something they were completely unprepared for. Not too long after, disruptions occurred frequently, parties of adventurer's having gone missing. And Ouranos, well, who else would be the one to give out the order to a familia to investigate the occurrences?"

It all seemed about right, and given their brief time with Mathis and the words he shared with them. But this was the first time she had known this to happen, for the dungeon to come to a standstill. Even then, the holes in his story still seem plausible, she still stood on the reluctant side of the man after whatever has happened between him and Aiz.

Then as she cast her eyes on the paper on the desk, she recalled what he had said about the Glacier Territory. How the blizzards were frigid and biting.

"Who were they?"

Somewhat caught off guard, Etorre hugged his crossed arm tight around his chest as he took a breath in.

"It was the Hera familia, the other, if you haven't guessed already, was the deity Vishnu. They weren't an item, they butd heads quite frequently. Their cooperation only partially succeeded by-…, let's just say they had a common interest.." Etorre reported as he carefully watched Riveria with her gaze fixed on the article coding. "This was all some time before you were born."

Though her head remained fixed, she only moved her eyes to see him. As an elf, beings blessed with long life spans, she was only ninety-nine years old. A fraction of the life that is expected of her. The other? Well she very well understood what was expected from that, thanks to the individual before her.

"How long?"

"Long enough that not even the city dares to remember." Etorre said in one last cryptic manner.

"I need to know what Vishnu has to do with it, along with everything in those files. Because if this thing comes back, if this happens all over again, we need to be prepared if we are to have a chance of stopping it." Riveria drew her eyes from Etorre to the sheet before them, as she processed everything and firmly stated.

Etorre subtly shook his head with a weary expression on his face.

"And you will. But not here. Ouranos and his dog have eyes and ears all over. These things are things that were destroyed intentionally. Wiped from the memory of the Guild and her assets. To speak of them here, well, dare I say that I wouldn't much care to have some uninvited stranger come knocking on my door. Surely you of all people would understand that?"

"Excuse me, but it sounds like you're actually going to help." She narrowed her eyes.

"Well, of course. So long as we are in agreement that I will need some time to regather the documents and transcribe them from memory to paper. By chance would you be available for morning coffee in the future? If not tomorrow morning, perhaps the next? They should be ready then."

She sat in brief contemplation as her eyes scanned his desk as her mind processed the information and the possibilities before her.

"But why would they do that? Destroy the files, if we knew this thing existed, this Harbinger, we wouldn't be in the situation that we're in now."

Etorre took a deep breath in, at the mentioning of the Beast's true name.

"They were destroyed because of incriminating evidence against the Guild. Why else?" Etorre said in a hush.

"Huh?" The simple expression escaped from her lips without any restraint, nor thought.

"Well this much is safe to say here; there was a book, an exposé that spread throughout the city wielding information that was truly hard to deny. Information that the Guild could only assume was from a leak within. So what would you do if information arose that may jeopardize yourself and your familia? Would you embrace the impending disaster? Skew the controllable bits of information to suit you? Or would you take the easiest route possible?"

The words hit her in a way she didn't quite anticipate. As if her own actions were leaning towards skewing the information, she had to remind herself that she performed no ill action, nor any alteration of the facts. She merely reported them from her own perspective, free of bias. But the discomfort was clear on her face as she battled the hypothetical question posed to her.

She had chosen to embrace it. To endure. She wouldn't lie, nor would she allow herself to. What happened in the Dungeon, was a series of unforeseeable tragedies. It was that honesty that she hoped would reflect on her report to the Guild.

"Plausible deniability all to keep themselves secure in the role they have built for themselves in this city.." Etorre mumbled.

"So." He said abruptly. "If you'll bear with me and suffer under another visit over coffee, you'll have your answers."

When Riveria caught his eyes, she could see that he understood her thoughts on their relationship as those words escaped his lips. As if the man she always knew to be so kind, understood scorn so well.

"Very well.." Riveria said firmly. "I'll see you when I see you."

Offering that indifferent farewell, she left the domain of her uncle. Initially she anticipated that with each step she would begin to feel the heaviness in her being lighten as she drew away. But that uneasiness was held firmly in place by the only person who had earned her scorn.

Whatever the case, she chose not to dwell on it. The fact that she had entered and left the archives in a matter of nearly ten minutes was a miracle. Etorre had a terrible habit of dragging on conversations well past their welcome. Touting stories of the past. For the first time, he seemed eager to end the conversation on his own.

Leaving the Guild, she left to the last place she had to report to.

Loki.

As Riveria left, Etorre sat silently as he leaned back into his chair with his eyes firmly locked on the fine wooden door. And finally all resumed as it were, the archives sat in it's natural silence just as it always has. With one hand resting near his lips, his soft gaze turned down to where his niece had sat. On the back rest of the chair was a fine black residue.

"Oh dear.." He quietly muttered as a wearisome sigh escaped his breath. And with his head dropping, he held his brow. "Why now?"

Peeking through the cracks of his fingers he saw the small flower plant that held such a delicate tiny flower.

It's short petals were of crimson and orange, with the later gathering at it's core wit faint freckles in between as the crimson reaching out as if it were welcoming the world with open arms.

He couldn't help but reach out for it, and carefully hold it's delicate bud in the palm of his hand. Stroking a petal with his thumb, he gazed upon the flower with forlorn eyes.

"What are we going to do, dear?"

"△▼△▼△▼△"

2.

Ansem stood in what could only be described at the Dian Cecht's individual washrooms for the patients who resided there. It was nothing extravagant, it was purely functional. That's all that it needed to be. Surrounded by four walls, he stood at the one furthest back, before him a wooden counter stood at around the height of his stomach. Setting his bag on the counter top, he gazes into the mirror before him. The metallic surface stretched to his right to the sink. But behind him he could see the doctor.

Amid smiled softly as their gazes met. One that was mixed with a professional courtesy, and the other half warm. Ansem couldn't tell why. Perhaps it was just who she was as an individual, a testament to the quality of her heart.

"You do realize I'm not taking a shower right away, right?" Ansem carefully asked.

"I figured. It's the contents of your bag that I'm curious about." She answered.

"Pardon?"

Amid smiled softly once more, prompting her purple eyes to become barely visible.

"For security purposes, of course. It's necessary for the safety of our patients here that no weapon or an object capable of harm is allowed here within the premises."

"That's happened before?" He wore a concerned expression, the idea of attacking the helpless made his stomach churn. How someone could drive themselves to find that an acceptable course of action was beyond him.

Though he chose not to dwell too much on it as he unpacked his torn clothes and battered armor from his bag.

"Here." Ansem said as he began setting out his items. What remained last were his journal and the tray that held the vials of water, that and a particular metal object wrapped in a fine white cloth.

The clothes that was pierced and torn, stained with blood and grime from the days prior, -or at least what were days for him. Gazing up at the mass of red and black stains, he couldn't believe how torn and beat up they were, nor could he believe that he had survived any of it.

He wouldn't have if it weren't for Aiz and Nine-Hell.

His carefully crafted porcelain armor plates thudded against the wooden countertop. It's white gleam, mixed ornamental gold and silver lines carefully strung in an elegant pattern lay under a layer of dirt, black and blood. Scuffed and worn, it looked like a remnant of the past. Some lost piece of history found in ruin.

The armor plates themselves were held in place to the main body of the light armor through metal couplings that were able to be tightened or loosened allowing the plates to be interchangeable or replaced. Combined with the large surface area that the armor plates made up, plus the specifically designed gaps in them, it allowed for a wide range of motion enabling him to maintain his agility while having the utmost of protection.

It was all thanks to Tessaryne and her genius that he was alive.

He gazed upon what little he had left and he felt a tremble in his breath, but steadied it before it could grow into anything noticeable.

"I've lost the only thing that could be considered a weapon.." Ansem said solemnly as his hand subconsciously reached for the bit of silver metal that had a fine floral design ingrained in it. "This is-.."

Ansem gave his bag and it's contents a long stare.

"This is all I've got."

Amid's eyes lingered on empty sheath that hung around his waist for a moment, then scanned the armor intently and proceeded down the line of the counter top. It was her duty to ensure the safety of her patients. This was nothing more than a professional doing her job.

"I see.." She said as her eyes went down the line, to where they stopped at the fine cloth. "And that is?"

Ansem reached for the item wrapped in the fine cloth and carefully unwrapped it as if it were an item of high value. And to him it was.

"It was one of the last gifts from my father." Underneath was a silver metal bracelet, with a carefully cut sapphire jewel at the very top. Surrounding it was a plethora of grooves elegantly overlapping and twisting over one another, not in any random or chaotic pattern, but systematically. Surrounding the edge of the bracelet were solid lines of silver.

"It's beautiful. But forgive me, doesn't it seem to be a gift for a father to their daughter?.."

He couldn't help but give a light chuckle.

"I thought the same at first. But it's for me to give to someone special when I find them. It's supposedly blessed, to keep them safe from the forces that exceed mortal understanding. At least that's the abridged version."

Entranced by the jewel, the words couldn't help but escape her lips.

"-From divine power?"

"Maybe, I haven't had the chance to test it against that. You know, deities aren't too fond of breaking that rule." Ansem said as he covered the bracelet and put it back into his bag. "But are things really that bad here that someone would attack here? A hospital?"

That was one thing that he couldn't get out of his mind. What savagery or desperation could one possess to drive them that far to attack a hospital?

And it appeared that the answer weighed heavily on Amid as her eyes scanned the blood stained armor and clothes.

"They are. Only in recent years has the city become a safer place, but there is a threat that still lingers. We must take every precaution we can in order to ensure the safety of the citizens of this city. This," Amid said as she gestured to his bag. "Is one of them. I hope you forgive the intrusion of your belongings."

"It's your way of keeping your people safe, you have nothing to apologize for. If you have any other questions, you know where to find me. But if you don't mind-.." Ansem said as he gestured to the shower before him. "I uh, need to clean up."

"Of course." Amid said giving him one last thoughtful look. The look was nothing more than a professional observation, one to make note of during his recovery.

Once she had left, he began not to shower, but to clean his armor.

The hot water from the sink began to steam after a short while, closing the drain shut, the water began to pool in the bowl of the sink. Using one of spare cloths set aside, he dampened it and set a liberal amount of soap onto it.

Carefully releasing the metal plates from their housings on the armor, he set them into the sink as it filled with warm water. Removing them one piece at a time, he paused as he grabbed the barren light armor that would cover his torso. Right above where his belly button would be was a horizontal cut through the mythril wires that made up much of the defensive capabilities of the armor. Surrounding it all was a separate shade of black that stained much of the stomach area.

It was his own dried blood.

The Harbinger had grown so strong that even the best armor he's ever seen, armor that was specifically made to go up against it, failed.

It was not a failure on Tessaryne's part. But the strength that the Harbinger had gained.

"We never stood a chance against it. Not divided. Not how we were."

He mumbled as he gazed upon the darkened red. And there on the counter he saw the stained white shirt that had gone through it all. It was no longer suitable to wear, and after being given a replacement shirt from Jai, he made the mistake of not throwing it away to begin with. There was no real reason for him to keep as it served only as a bitter reminder of everything that had happened.

But so would everything. No matter how large and small, when there is a person suddenly gone from one's life, so much would bring back the memory of that time they have spent together.

He knew that so well.

And as he scrubbed the blood and grime from the armor, his face couldn't help but warp and cringe as the stream of water was accompanied by the gentle trickle of tears as the memories swept through him.

And even though time will pass, he'll survive, perhaps just long enough to ensure that this doesn't happen to anyone else.

Before he could dare wash himself, he had to clean it, his armor. As if it was an obligation of his own soul to Tessaryne and her work. He could not allow it to go tainted any longer than it already has. He would not dare insult her memory by neglecting such a precious thing.

Finishing the wash for his armor, plates and all, he stepped into the shower as bare as the day he was born. And much like the armor, darkened colors stream down his body with the guide of the water.

But it seemed that no matter how much the water graced his skin, that dreaded sensation from the Dungeon still remained. It felt like that of a vile film covered his body, and no matter how much he scrubbed the sensation would never fade. Leaving him to feel nothing more than tainted and disturbed.

Amidst the grief, and frustration, the luffa dropped to the shower floor, and his head hung low. Reaching for his back, he tried to find comfort in one of the few things he had left of his familia.

His faulna.

If he could, he would scream, releasing the pain in his heart out into the world. But he couldn't allow it, not to call that attention to himself, not to disturb the peace for the resting and injured. Instead what escaped his lips in place of the roar of grief was the empty scream of silence.

Tessaryne.

Murro.

Seira.

Asurien.

Eisiah.

Messiah.

Yellen.

Noshuwah.

Serene.

And so many more.

No one would know of their trials, their achievements.

Their hearts.

Their sacrifice.

How long ago that was, he didn't know. All that he was certain of was that enough time had passed to where Forher's Right and the Trial of Fifty-Eight Days had been forgotten. Back when the city was split and torn, to where fear and trepidation crippled much of the city.

As long as he still had the breath in his lungs, he would not forget the fallen. Nor would he allow such a fate to happen to anyone else.

He swore it. A solemn promise to himself.

And as he drilled it into his mind, he could see the few faces who had offered him their kindness and compassion.

Jai.

Aiz.

And Nine-Hell.

Gripping what he could of the falna on his back, of the auroras that danced on his back, he wouldn't allow history to repeat itself. For their sake.

"△▼△▼△▼△"

3.

In a large door room that lay barely lit by the magic lanterns that hung on the walls. Moisture clung to the dark stone walls, giving the rocks an unsightly shine to them as the lantern light flickered. With the wooden crates and barrels that littered the room, it looked more like a storage room than a place of legitimate operations.

Two small time familia's used the space, not as their personal domain, but solely for the place of coordinating the mission that none of the other familias dared to partake in.

But despite whatever achievement that was accomplished, the room was full of unease. People lay silent, unnerved. Some had their eyes locked on the door that led to the passageway where at the very end lay another room.

Everytime someone entered, after an amount of time someone else would enter. There would not be any cause of concern if the hallway in question was not a dead-end. But unfortunately, every person who entered, would have their unconscious body be dragged out.

Some would gossip that even though their bodies still bore breath, it was their souls that were stolen.

Why their patron deities sent more and more into the room, began to mount worries within the familias.

And sure enough as a young man who wore a relatively standard set of armor gazed upon the door, it swung open revealing someone dragging an unconscious body through the room.

Watching his comrade in such a state, sent an uncontrollable wave of trembles through his body.

"Why don't we just kill him?" The scorn within his voice trembled with worry as his brown eyes locked onto the boots of his comrade dangling as his body disappeared into another.

The man sitting on the floor next to him, who was sharpening his blade dared not to look away from its gleam.

"If we kill him, that wouldn't make us any better." He said as his red eyes traveled down the length of his sword as he polished it.

"Bullshit. You saw what that man -no, monster has done! String him up, and watch his feet dangle! Have his last moments be in front of everyone to make a point." The brown eyes adventure said.

"You're an idiot. That will only stop him, not the rest of his followers. The suicide bombings won't stop. And neither will the missing people in the Dungeon."

"You still think it was that dude who was kidnapping all those people?" A young woman asked, she sat on the right hand side of the red eyed adventurer, her entire being screamed caster as she held her knees to her chest and stared upon the boy next to him.

"I heard it was some monster that breathed death!" She continued.

"Yeah, right." The brown eyed man said, immediately dismissing her "Keep your boogeyman stories to yourself. We're dealing with someone real here."

"It's true! I heard from someone at the safe point the last time we went down! There was a lady who told me so! She said 'don't go past the safe point when the ground trembles'! Even if I wanted to, I couldn't, it's like she was casting some sort of spell that wouldn't let me!"

"Here we go again. Would you just shut up about your fantasies?" The brown eyed man burst out with an irritated glare. They had just survived quite possibly one of the most daring conflicts on the surface of the Orario, and the stress of it all still had yet to leave his body.

"Geeze, you're such a dick, Lomenstein." The caster said as she crossed her arms and turned her glare away.

"If we kill him, we will have so much more clean up to do. That's the main point." His red eyes stopped at the hilt. "You want more work to do with him and his thugs?"

"Uhh.." The brown eyed man trembled. "No. Nothing dealing with that guy.. I don't want to risk turning into one of his thugs and try to blow Babel like the last guy he brainwashed."

"Good." Turning his gaze, he carefully aimed at one figure standing guard facing the door.

She stood tall, strong. Immovable. Her red hair carried curls as it swept down her neck, and those hazel eyes pierced through the door as if they were able to see through it. Adorned in armor that bore her family name, she wore it with honor, as she accomplished what she had long set out for.

"Besides, if anybody should be the one to kill him, it should be her."

And what was it that she set out for?

"Why her?" The Caster asked in a whisper.

It was a discussion that was not so discreet, so it should've been no surprise when the woman turned her face to them all. And though she may have worn that armor with pride, her eyes were stricken with something that they could only understand on a surface level.

"Her sister was one of his followers." The Red eyed adventurer said as they locked eyes.

Silence soon followed as the woman turned her gaze back to the door. Everyone knew that they had struck a blow against the rise of Evilus and their leader.

But what most did not know was that this woman, Vera, had a sister.

Her name was Tessaryne.

Who was kidnapped after her parents were killed in the Kobold desert by a rogue group of adventurer's who made such delusional claims of grandeur. And ever since she had heard that Tessaryne had survived the attack, she vowed to rescue her from that life under the First Son of Evilus.

While she had hoped she could save Tessaryne, to bring her back to what was left of their now small family of smiths, and live a new life in this world free of this monster's control. But as fate would have it, her soul was broken beyond repair to where only by the hands of the gods could she be saved. To be freed and relieved of her wretched state, and to be in time, surely outside of Vera's own life, reborn.

"That's fucked.." The Brown eyed adventurer mumbled. "Did they ever figure out how he does it?"

"Hmm?" The Red eyed adventurer hummed.

"You know," Brown gestured with his hands. "How they come under his control.."

"He breaks them."

The voice was not from the three sitting side by side, but from Vera who stood guard as she solemnly stared upon the wooden door.

"He pulls on the soft strings of one's heart. Using their compassion to drive them further and further from themselves. Once he breaks them, there's no coming back from that."

"-And everyone else has to pay for the price of his greed and arrogance."

As she finished, the door opened, and just like before another person was being dragged out as their unconscious body dangled across the floor.

The tension in Vera's heart couldn't stand what she was seeing. Again and again, people go in and all leave in the same state. At this rate all they would accomplish was spending time that they couldn't afford. Not when the rest of his group ran free.

For Vera and everyone else who worked alongside her, they needed to know where they are and how many if they were to put a stop to this madness once and for all. For the sake of the city and its people.

To prevent the rise of what they all feared.

The rise of Evilus.

"I'm going in. One of you stand guard, and another go tell Loki." Vera said with an absolute resolve in her voice that could not be contradicted. And just like in the streets of Daedelus, she chose to go head first into something that there may be no coming back from. But for the sake of her people, her city, it was worth it.

"△▼△▼△▼△"

4.

A few rooms down stood Hermes, where the light of day was not visible and only the magic lanterns unconscious body after body passed through on their way to the makeshift infirmary that lay in the next room.

It's been nearly six hours since the joint operation between two familias had ended in success with the capture of none other but the leader of an organization that has time and time again been the culprit of attacks in the city. It should be a moment of celebration in their achievement according to Forher's Right. It was on the fifty-eighth day that they declared success. Per their words, it would all end when the one responsible was captured in force on the fifty-eighth day. But the price for that success?

A peace of mind.

The effects of the previous battle could be felt and heard from the otherside of the city. It was a massive display of power. One to overwhelm and force the opposition into submission.

Yet the fifty-eighth day was far from over.

"You said you and ya little minions could get through to him. So what's with the hold up?" The words escaped from her lips as vermillion eyes pointed at the deity beside her, who stood in contemplation as his eyes followed the unconscious body in transit. Who oddly enough seemed keen on silence.

"If we don't hurry up and wring him dry, the rest of his group will be able to walk free." She continued. "And I don't know about you, but the whole city is watching. So do something that works, will ya?"

"He's still casting.." Hermes finally said aloud, but it was a thought that had broken trhough the barrier of his mind into the physical world. "He should've run out of mind by now.."

Six hours he has watched the bodies of his familia be dragged through. The ones who went in first, who at first they were overwhelmed with concern for, had already woken up. On the surface, it seemed to be a harmless casting to cause the one's around him to fall alseep.

Mind has a limited supply, and surely after enough consumption the caster would fall unconscious or risk their own health in doing so. But six hours of continuous casting?

"Hey! Are ya listening or do I need to spell it out for ya?" Loki said as she cast her hands out offering one option or the other. But it was anything but generous. The glare in her eyes hinted that the level of stress the wore itself on her shoulders was enough to cripple a mortal.

That was because they had the responsibility to ensure that this entire fiasco was over when the other deities wanted nothing to do with it.

In short, it was their moment to shine. To firmly establish themselves as capable familias. But in their success, it would only amount to a small step for them.

"No, no. You're quite fine with saying it once." Hermes finally said aloud as he contemplated the bouts of information that his mind processed.

"Hey, what do you mean by that?!" Loki grumbled nearing a shout, as she crossed her arms over her chest.

"Nothing. Though to answer your question, I have an ace up my sleeve. It'll be a tricky one to work in, but if it gets played right then we should be able to get everything we need.." Hermes contemplated aloud, they couldn't risk letting him fall unconscious from using all of mind casting spells. "Excuse me."

Hermes set off, but just as soon as he was heading to the door he could hear the footsteps following behind him.

"Nah, nah, don't think you're going in there alone." She said with her haughty attitude.

"Be my guest." Hermes flatly said as his mind continued pondering.

Of all of the horrors that this man could conjur, why was he casting something so harmless? Is it to lure us in?

They all have heard of the tales. In a city where the outside world was walled off, the gossip festered and grew of the various atrocities committed by the First Son of Evilus. The cunning of one man who dared to play god, cast fear and doubt amongst much of the city.

But it didn't start off with a bang, in the beginning there were quiet murmurs of a sickening individual making rounds throughout the city. Words of declaration easily written off as mere ramblings of a mad man. There were a lot of mentally deranged individuals in Orario. After all, they lived in a world where so much made little to no sense to the mortal minds.

But it wasn't until good honest people either went missing that people began to notice something was off.

That was six months ago.

And slowly over time, like an insidious infection left alone, it began to grow and rot.

More and more people had gone missing, and the quiet murmurs that first made way through the city grew into a worry that the Guild nor the familia's could ignore.

So why haven't Hera and Zeus gotten involved?

Loki seemed more than convinced that it was their time to shine. And sure enough they followed Forher's Right, their warning, to a 'T.'

The success was practically handed to them.

And that was what unnerved Hermes the most.

If this power that this First Son of Evilus held was truly so despicable, something that corrupt and distort even the purest of souls, why was he casting everyone to fall asleep?

Reaching the main storage room, both Hermes and Loki were taken aback by the sight before them.

Two adventurers, one with brown eyes and the other with red, desperately restrained the adventurer known as Vera firmly in place. One hung onto her leg and the other stood between her and the door, pushing her away. Their struggles echoed in the room as her strength was barely managed to be contained as she tried to make her way to the door. Truly, if she wanted to, she could break the door with minimal effort. But when it came to her own familia, she wouldn't allow herself to bring harm to anyone under her watch.

"Don't do it!" One shouted.

"Come on, for once listen to somebody other than yourself!" Another shouted. "You're always barging in! Think! Think, lady! Think!"

They were the two of the three adventurer's that were a part of Vera's own adventuring party. Comrades through thick and thin. And this must've been the norm to have to restrain their overly thoughtless leader. A woman who shot first and asked questions later.

She was utterly incorrigible.

And yet, she struggled to move a single step forward.

Standing off beside Hermes and Loki was their caster. She held her staff tightly, just waiting to cast a healing spell when the two were to be thrown off and injured once their strength waned.

"Will you reign in your child?" Hermes asked, his joy and charisma lacking.

"What in the hell are you three doing?!" Loki was already shouting and moving forward.

The sound of Loki's voice was the only sound that Vera responded to in this moment as she turned around to face her patron deity.

"I was going in. And these two..." Vera said as she began to lift up her arms showcasing the two koalas clinging to her. "Well, that should go without saying."

"Get down, will ya? And step away from the door. No one is going in there but us."

Accepting Loki's command, they stood aside. At first it was surprising that Vera would listen. But before Hermes could ask, he thought it best to not second guess Loki's authority over her own children.

It was a shame though that considering it was a joint operation, in which they shared command over shared resources, adventurers included, that Vera intentionally chose to ignore Hermes orders.

And while giving the facade of a pleasant smile as he glanced them by through the door, he painfully admitted.

She created one hell of a headache..

Once the door closed, the only sound was emptiness. The air sat eerily still. Hermes would be remiss if he were to say that it didn't make him feel uneasy. Though he chose not to check to see how Loki was doing.

"Before the chamber, there's a corner. I want you to wait there." Hermes quitely advised her.

"Huh? And what do ya think that's going to accomplish?"

"I was considering the possibility that this entire time he was waiting for us to come. Stalling to draw us to him. Maybe then, he'd make his play, kill us both, and escape." Hermes casually said. "And he's already seen my face, he hasn't seen yours."

"So even if he does escape-…"

"He won't know who to go after." Hermes smiled that same damn coy smile. "Oh and silence is key from you."

Loki huffed and intensely glared at him before they set off. Making it a point that this was the only time he was ever going to be able to tell her such a thing.

Only the clack of their footsteps clacked echoed down the corridor. And just as planned, Loki waited at the corner of the hallway, leading to the chamber. Leaving solely Hermes with the man responsible for so much death.

Tucking his hands into his pockets as he walked, he came to a stop before the bars that made the face of the cell chamber. On the other side, dangled the man as he hung from chains that dug into his wrist that never seemed to cease their bleeding. And his black hair bobbed over his eyes as his head sunk, hiding the trails of dried blood from view.

He looked like shit, and that was putting it politely.

His white shirt once held it's purity, now dirtiest and bloodied. And it seemed that the majority of the wounds on his body were from the blast that Vera cast.

Hanging there like a puppet waiting for it's strings to be pulled, Ansem quietly murmured.

"Why can't I wake up?"

Standing before the cell, Hermes gently cleared his throat calling for his prisoner's attention, who slowly rose his head.

"Hello, Ansem. Isn't it about time we talk?" Hermes said as he flashed a confident grin. "You see I've been dying to have this conversation. Truly. But first, I want you to know exactly what is going to happen from here on out. M'kay?" Hermes smiled and Ansem remained silent as his weary gaze lingered on the deity before him. "We're going to bring you to the Guild, where your fate will be decided. But until then, we have a lot of time together. And in that time, we're going to need some answers. Well more specifically, I will."

Hermes cast his hand on the cage and gave the metal bar a solid shake, of course it didn't move. It was made of quite possibly one of the strongest materials known to man. A deity with his arcanum sealed, was no stronger than a mere mortal. But what he couldn't deny was the glimmer that cast itself onto the metal surface from the lanterns surrounding them.

"You see, everyone has been talking about you and the name you made for yourself. A terrible, soulless, vile individual, hellbent on bringing the fall of Orario. And if I'm to be honest, I'm captivated. To think someone who was once called the Son of the Auroras could fall so far.. What could drive you to desire such a thing?"

Hermes chuckled as the thought escaped his lips.

"Was it the strength that corrupted you? Did something happen down in the depths of the dungeon that not even you care to admit? Something that broke you, that now compels you to do the same to the rest of society? To twist and dangle people like puppets to your whim."

He leaned close to the bars of the cell, dangling himself like bait before Ansem. If Ansem were to make the move to kill him, this would be it. But so far everyone who came in here had survived, awoken, as if they were lulled to sleep.

"What is it that you truly want?"

Being the betting man that he was, he was certain of one thing.

This man before may be a monster. But surely, he'd like to play with his toys before he breaks them.

"Because I'm sure it's so much more grand than just bringing down a single city.."

Hermes lingered before Ansem, their faces on seperate sides of the cages, as he waited.

"I want-…" Ansem stopped as the words got caught in his throat. Filling Hermes with curiousity and anticipation.

Hermes reveled in waiting to see the vile expression spawn on his face as his truest desires would be leaked in the wake of his defeat. A truth so despicable and vile, that no one could dare stand before him and not feel disgust.

Why did this seemed so satisfactory for Hermes? Because it meant one thing. All the information they had gathered was not in vain. The city's safety would be guaranteed by the prophecy brought by Forher.

It was the end of this whole fiasco, they had won.

This victory wouldn't have been possible without the one missing piece of valuable intelligence from a source that came out of the blue. One who said that they had witnessed the insidious decline of this now monster of a man.

With locked eyes, Hermes saw the trembling in Ansem's eyes. Leading him to be very confused, as he pondered whether or not a single defeat would bring him to tears.

And then Ansem spoke of a single desire.

"I want her to be buried.."

Those words rippled through the air without a single trace of malice. And when Hermes bore his gaze into his Ansem's eyes, he saw an expression that could only be described as a parent grieving the loss of their child.

"Please… Bury her."

Around the corner stood Loki, arms crossed, as the impatience and frustration of the day reaped through her being. Anxiously tapping her pointer finger rhythmically against the fabric of her arm.

The body of the woman they had recovered from Vera's onslaught, was indeed the woman Tessaryne. And as she brought her hand to her face she pinched the corner of her eyes as she squinted in frustration.

Reasoning that this person couldn't make such a demand, and even if they did, how could he justify it now after everything he had put her through? What sort of twisted lens did he see himself and the world around him?

But if anything they were to know of him to be true, then that'd make Tessaryne a victim of this man.

So shouldn't that be right? Wouldn't it?

It was only recently that they were able to find out about some of the more recently indoctrinated members of his group. Which ever ones they captured, pretty well committed suicide, either in a firey blaze or by taking a knife to their own heart.

The loyalty surrounding this man was fierce in those who followed him.

So shouldn't they all be considered victims?

What made this one so special to him?

Why was it that he cared more for her then the rest?

Tapping her forehead as she furrowed her brow, and if she were allowed to make a sound, she'd groan and sigh as her mind raced. Instead a grimace remained on her face.

WHY IS THIS SO DAMN DIFFICULT?

The two familias were thrust into this situation. In some ways forced to operate in an element outside of their own. It was ugly, brutish, and it made her gut churn. Every bit of her being was tempted to walk out and demand an answer in an attempt to find some relief. But alas, that would undermine whatever ace that Hermes hid. And quite frankly, on the off chance that Ansem's acts of terrorism would continue, she wanted to live for herself and her children. To give them the strength they needed.

"You know I was going to appease you with some sense of sentimentality, but after a cruel joke like that, I don't even think that's possible."

There was a gasp, not from Hermes lips but from only what Loki could assume was from Ansem.

"You don't believe me?" Ansem quietly murmured in disbelief as his eyes grew wide.

"At this point, I don't think anyone will. Everyone here has heard of how your twisted games and lies tug at the strings of people until they break." Hermes said, with clear conviction.

"Then what's the point of any of this?!" Ansem shoute, as he writhed in his chains with clenched fists. "You hunt me and my familia down, kill someone who I raised, and taunt me with questions for answers that you won't believe! What did any of us do to deserve that?!"

"Do I even need to remind you of the countless people hurt or killed, all in your name?" Hermes said as he leaned in close.

"That wasn't me!" Ansem shouted with his chains clanking as he writhed. "I tried telling you that! But you cast every word away!"

Hermes couldn't help but chuckle at the audacity of the statement.

"Your name was plastered all over it. Every witness, every bit of evidence leads all right back to you. And you have the audacity to lie?"

It wasn't often that the deity of trade and information snarled, but to lie so vehemently went against his own values. That information is something that is valuable, to taint it with lies was sacrilege.

"Face it, it's over, Ansem. Your little game of playing god is over. There is no escaping this defeat, and there are no second chances. It's all over."

Ansem's eyes began to tremble, and his hands clenched as he drew himself as far forward as possible. "You don't get to decide the truth only when it suits you Hermes!"

"We won-.." Hermes smirked as he tucked his hands into his pockets and met Ansem's eyes as they both hovered before the bars of the cell. "-You lost."

You lost.

"You're going to tell us everything. Not because you want to, but because you have no other choice. And it's better you tell us here and now, before anyone else finds out you're here, because I assure you that we are being very gentle right now. That's the truth, Ansem." A cold glare swept over Hermes face as he peered from the otherside of the bars. "Now it's your turn."

Ansem's breaths turned faint and sporadic, like a chuckle of utter disbelief at the words. Finally his head sunk. At first Hermes thought that this was what he had been waiting for. After steeling himself with a firm resolve to end this madness, he held a cold front to prevent Ansem from having any chance to twist or manipulate him.

"I'm-…" The words from Ansem's mouth came out as nothing more than a mumble.

Curiosity and pure anticipation drew him in.

"Say again?" Hermes proudly requested.

Ansem slowly raised his bloodshot eyes that showed the tears that broke through the stains of blood on his face. For the first time that Hermes saw, a snarl crossed Ansem's face, sending a cold shiver down his spine. Through the trembling and tension that built withinAnsem's body he cast his firey gaze over to the god.

"I'm going to kill you."

Ansem's words were not a warning, but a solemn declaration of a future that is to be unavoidable for the deity. The ultimate taboo.

The killing of a god by mortal hands.

Standing there, Hermes cast his eyes to the chains that held him firmly in place. He wasn't going anywhere.

That's assuming if you actually manage to find a way to get out of here.

The only two doors in this room were locked on the outside. Even if he managed to free himself and breach either of the locked doors, they both led back to where everyone would be waiting. There was no escape, but only by death.

"Good luck with that." Only a god can kill another god. Turning his eyes away from Ansem, Hermes gently pulled on the tip of his hat as he turned away. There was no use at this time trying to pry the information out from him. Starting to the door that led to freedom. Leaving Ansem to shout and curse to the deity.

Standing around the corner, Loki grimaced as she tightly gripped the bridge of her nose, closest to the tear ducts of her eyes.

There she sighed as Hermes approached her.

"We'll try again later." Hermes quietly said.

Taking his lead, they ventured back down the corridor to the locked door that led into the same room where Vera and her party waited.

"You're telling me that was your ace?" Loki grumbled in disappointment.

"Hmm?" Hermes turned as the inner mechanisms from the door lock disengaged from the other side with a solid click.

Light crept through the crack, and Hermes starred upon Loki.

"No."

Stepping through the door where the others waited, Vera secured the door behind them.

"No, not at all." Hermes said as he came to a stop as he stared upon the people in the room with them. "I believe after this conversation, if we even want to call it that, it'll need to be finessed in, in order to get the truth out of him."

There off in the corner of the room stood one of Hermes own. A member of his own familia who was with him when they met with the source of the information that led them to this victory.

"He's too far in any sort of denial for it to truly be utilized yet."

The two deities departed from the room leaving the small group of adventurer's to stand guard. As Vera stood in front of the door, she watched them head to the otherside of the room for the door bickering the entire way. And in a split second, no, probably even less than that, the light of the magic stone lantern just in the left side of her peripheral vision flickered.

It was light that was much different from a candle, light that should not flicker or waver from wind. It was constant, or rather a gradual decline in luminosity over time. It shouldn't jolt down by any means. And now it was suddenly dimmer by a slight margin. Eyeing the lantern she slowly turned to the door, and against the bottom of the door was a faint trail of dust leading back down the corridor to their prisoner. A trail that did not belong to the floor.

"Vera, you better not be getting any more bright ideas." One of the trio called out to her, anticipating that now that their deities were gone, this would be her chance.

Turning to the adventurers, she did a head count. Lomenstein, Sikora and Rudy were all there back to their spots on the wall adjacent to the door, all keeping a careful eye on her.

"Something isn't right." The weary words escaped from her lips as her eyes locked onto the door. "Something is not right.."

The trio heard her words as a faint pressure filled the room. At first it felt like the force was focused solely on their throats, choking them, and then it soon faded.

"I'm going in. Warn the others."

"What are you going to do." Sikora asked as the trio scrambled to their feet.

"I'm going to kill him, if I have to." Vera said as she unlocked the door before turning back to them. "Go. Now."

Her voice was hushed, and she had an eerie focus in her gaze that was full of adrenaline and worry. Silently opening the door, she closed it behind leaving the only sound of the locking engaging with a solid click.

"△▼△▼△▼△"

5.

"There's something missing." Lefiya quietly muttered as she flipped back and forth between a set of pages from the book that rested on her lap as she sat near Anakity's side.

The day had just reached the second half of the day, and the sun slowly began to make it's descending arc across the sky. In total, it's been a little past twenty-four hours since she had heard anything from her familia who went down to the dungeon with specific orders from Ouranos.

Ideally, she'd want to meet them at the Dungeon entrance of Babel. But inevitably she chose to look over Anakity. Leaving her to patiently wait for their return. Hoping that in all good time they would return home safely.

"Umm, pardon, Loki." Lefiya's voice quietly interrupted whatever thoughts that occupied Loki's mind.

"Hmm? Yeah, what's up?" Loki turned to her child, with the faintest color of her vermillion eyes peeking through.

"Oh, uhh, it's just this book." Lefiya said as she flipped the pages and flashed her the old leather cover of the book, that looked like it was barely holding itself together. The face of it bore no outright identifiable markings that indicated the book's name or author. Features worn off by the passage of time. "I feel like there's something missing. But I can't quite put my finger on it. And I mean, weren't you around when this came out? So I thought that maybe you might know what it's named and where I could find another copy."

Loki tucked a corner of her mouth as her gaze bore upon it.

"If I'm thinking it is what it is, then it's a first edition only kind of book. They didn't make much off of 'em so they cancelled any further revisions. That one right there, is quite possibly the one left in the city."

"But you know of it? Maybe it's name?"

"Nah, I only remember the gist of it. That's it."

Loki turned her attention to the sleeping beauty on the bed, Anakity. It was only last night that they had a close call, thanks to Amid and admittedly Raul for getting her, they were able to buy her one more day.

But the sickly complexion that adorned her face made her worry.

They needed a miracle if she were to survive.

From the hallway came a frantic pace of footsteps, racing to the door at irregular speeds. As if the person traveling were to tumble at any second. The sound immediately drew both Loki and Lefiya's attention to the door where the figure appeared, huffing and puffing as air seemed to escape their grasp.

Raul stood leaning on the doorway.

At first Loki that it was a matter of the utmost concern.

But then again, it was Raul.

"Hey, what is it?" Loki asked with a nod.

Raul slowly caught his breath and fully supported himself against the door frame.

"You got a visitor. It's uh-.." Raul said with a deep gasp in, as he pointed to the front door. "-It's Hermes. Important."

Loki cocked an eyebrow up, watching Raul slide down to the floor from exhaustion.

"Ehhh…" Loki muttered as she remained in place.

"Aren't you going to go?" Lefiya tilted her head in confusion.

"Huh? Yeah I'm gonna go. I want to revel in this moment before he hits me with some bad news." Loki swung her hands in a circular motion as if wafting the quiet and solace onto her being.

"Bad news?"

Already reaching the door, she tucked her hands into her pockets.

"Yeah, he has a bad habit of it."

Vanishing from sight down the corridor, Loki traveled through the Twilight Manor, the place that she was able to call home thanks to her and her efforts in the past.

With each step forward closer to the door, she felt a sort of dread that only became overwhelming once she had her hand on the door knob.

Standing before the closed door, she took a deep breath in and opened the door revealing Hermes standing at the bottom steps near the front door.

"What do ya want with yer snake's tongue?"

Taken aback, Hermes squinted ever so faintly at the nickname.

"Let's take a walk." Hermes requested with no sly grin, only a single arm gesturing to the garden that surrounded the estate.

Loki's eyes traveled along the yard and back to Hermes, where she groaned in dismay.

"Ehh. Fine."

Closing the door behind her, she stepped down the stairs with a lackadaisical footing as her eyes were reluctant to meet the deity before her.

Marching on the grass, each step felt soft, as if they were walking on clouds for it wasn't just any ordinary species of grass. It was one of the most irresponsible investments she had made for the manor. Claiming that it was important that even the ground be like that of the heavens. Primarily for naps.

With the tension that reaped through Loki's body, it seemed like the best investment. One so well thought out, that after Hermes little bombshell, perhaps she would take a nap. Rest and recover on one of her investments.

But it was only a lie to give herself something to look forward to.

"Alright, out with it already. What do ya got that has ya coming over here of all places?" Loki demanded as she stopped in front of Hermes, waving her finger. "You got a bombshell to drop, I know it. You didn't even once flash that little coy grin of yours."

Hermes blinked and glanced to the windows to make sure that with certainty, that they were indeed alone.

"Come on! Out with it already! I don't got any time for ya games, 'cuz I got to get back to one of my own!" Loki shouted to the mute before her.

Then he spoke with no fancy words that danced around the issue before them. Instead, he spoke in a way so blunt that it was entirely unlike Hermes.

"Ansem is back."

Vermillion eyes squinted until not a hint of their color could be seen. The loud and bombastic nature of Loki became subdued, as she drew her hands onto her hips.

"What a joke. You come here and say something like that, what are you thinking?"

Hermes reached for the rim of his hat as he took a deep breath in but Loki wouldn't allow him to avert his eyes as she swatted his hand away.

"Hey! Look me in the eyes."

Hermes couldn't help but give a faint chuckle, whether that was from irritation, or somehow finding this all amusing, remained to be unknown as his mouth instinctively curled into a half smile.

"I already have Asfi tailing him, so if he does anything we'll be the first to know." Hermes uneasily shifted his feet as he kept his gaze upon Loki.

"Woah woah woah." Loki held her hands out. "First of all, how do ya even know it's him. Last I checked humans, normal humans, Hermes, have a lifespan of at max one hundred years. Even then you know how long it's been."

Hermes gaze swayed over her and across the yard that surrounded her home, as in a way to gently reassure that uneasy sensation that cast itself over him, he scratched the back of his head. "I'm certain it's him."

"Oh please, tell me how? You have me at the edge of my seat in anticipation." She said in a facetious manner as she swung her hands on her hip. "You tellin' me he's back like that, you-!"

She paused as she waved her finger at him with an angry glare.

"You gave 'em that book didn't you!"

Immediately Hermes expression changed into one of confusion.

"Book?"

"Don't you play that game with me. The book. The book-iest of book!"

"The book?" Hermes repeated once more, with only a vague understanding of what she was talking about.

"Yes! The book!" Loki hushed as loud as she could while restraining herself as she hunched herself forward as she flailed her arms. "For the past week it's been page after page of it."

"Why would you let them read that?"

"I'm not just going to take something like that away from them. It's not mine! How you even managed to get a copy to give it to them, is beyond me." From the hunch forward to gripping her hair.

"I bet!—" She paused as drew his attention in. "-I bet, that the next thing ya going to say is that we were wrong. Hmm? But before ya say that, look at all of this!" Loki said as she gestured to her magnificent home, and the peaceful city surrounding them.

"-And do you hear that?" She said as she drew her hand to her ear. "Silence. No explosions, no casting, no screaming. We won. We did everything by the book. The missing people stopped, the big baddie went off and off'ed himself along with his entire crew."

She swung her arms in an attempt to draw emphasis that all of it in its entirety was purely that, done. Crossed off.

"Please just do me the favor and not mess me with or my kids. Alright?" Loki said wearily as she held out the palm of her hand to keep him at a distance. "Leave the mischief to me."

From Anakity and her unknown assailant, with her continuous degrading health, to the Dungeon behaving as it has, and waiting on the unknown, this should be just any other day. Children come and go, and while she may want to do everything she can to protect them, there are limits that even she as a deity faces. At the end of her patience she turned away from Hermes hoping that it would be the end of that.

"Thee three who shall be silent, shall be damned." Hermes chimed off. "Those were her words. You remember it, don't you? The line that conveniently disappeared only for us to know."

Immediately Loki paused.

"Two down, Loki. Who's going to be the third?"

She had no desire to continue listening to this monotonous conversation, then her feet continued the pace at which they traveled leaving Hermes in the yard of her home. Seeing fit that he shall find his way out and off the premises.

It was outrageous, and exhausting how now of all times Hermes would dare throw such a prank her way. Clenching her fist, furrowing her brow was all that she could manage to handle the stress that wrought itself on her conscience.

For what her child was enduring was no different this time around then the last time she had witnessed such a thing. The only difference was that what they had encountered was a miracle, and now they could count on no such thing.

All she could do was watch one of her own suffer and whittle away as the cursed blade slowly reaped through Anakity's being.

It truly was such a cruel joke.

Reaching the front steps of the Twilight Manor, Loki swung the door open and closed in one swift movement. Taking a moment for herself, she leaned against the door and carefully braced her head against its surface as a deep breath escaped her lips.

Surrounding her was silence and darkness as she held her eyes closed.

They were desperate times when Forher's Right was cast into the city starting the Trial of Fifty Eight Days.

It was either do or risk having the city fall from a force that was just in it's infancy.

They were all effectively held hostage by a madman and the words of an oracle. Forced to act against something they weren't entirely prepared. A threat that came from themselves. And a timeframe to act. It was a mad scramble to find anything and everything on the man in question.

Many mistakes were made, and so many lessons learned.

And yet they persevered. They won.

Then a trickle of doubt came into Loki's mind.

But at what cost?

After having committed actions in a desperate attempt to capture a monster, how far were they from being monsters themselves? If they were wrong, if they didn't fulfill the requirements for Forher's Right, was it their fault? Were they where they are now because they failed?

"Excuse me, Loki?" A gentle voice rang through the air. One that immediately Loki recognized.

When she would open her eyes it'd be none other than Riveria before her. Which would mean that surely the others wouldn't be too far behind.

Standing in the lobby, Riveria requested that they speak in one of the rooms in private. And upon arriving and taking their seat, Riveria began to explain the events of what had transpired in the Dungeon.

Though Riveria held strong posture, fitting of her upbringing, there remained an uneasiness throughout the entire debrief as she watched Loki's composed expression fade into one of utter dumbfoundedness as her mouth hung slightly agape.

When Riveria finished, there only remained a silence that eagerly weighed on her.

"WHAT?!" The single word broke through the silence, through every wall of the manor and carried it's way to startle the nesting birds in the tree near the window causing them to flee.

Inside the manor, it was as if all stood still.

Riveria lowered her head in shame as she turned her gaze to the coffee table between them.

"I deeply apologize, I should've assumed command over the team when Finn was injured. That is my fault. There should be no excuse for it." She said reprimanding herself. "If I did that, none of this would have happened."

Loki threw herself into the back of the couch, swinging her hands through her hair and down to her eyes.

It just had to be the boy who had gotten thrown to the wolves. Or more so, walked right into the damned thing that was terrorizing the dungeon. And no matter what, they were going to run into it. At least that was what Loki could assume from what she was told. While she had complete and utter faith in her children and their intentions, this whole overarching ordeal is going to get blown out of proportion. If not by the people of Orario, then by the other familias.

Now of all times, they absolutely cannot afford to risk an outright confrontation between another familia if any dared to try to cast their wrath. From Evilus, to the Harbinger, and securing their familia from a threat that is already close to claiming one of their own, a threat on the surface that would be so daring and attack them. Any more and it just be enough to stretch them thin enough to break.

As the protectors of this city, Loki couldn't allow that. No matter how much piled up.

To persevere no matter the odds.

Endure, just like they always have.

Digging her nails gently into her eyebrows the sensation was almost soothing, and the pressure on her eyes as she rubbed reminded her of waking up refreshed in the morning. Slowly the tension faded, no more than what was reasonable, there still some that remained in her chest.

Sitting herself up, rolled her shoulders and shook her head while taking a deep huff of a breath.

"Look, it's definitely gonna be a tricky one from here on out. It could turn out to be a real mess, not going to lie. So the best thing we can do now, is to try and keep ourselves on our best behaviors. No matter how much we get egged on." Loki firmly said, but in her voice was that reassuring nature.

"Yes, of course."

"Hey." The one word cut through the air, and silenced any thoughts going through Riveria's mind. Immediately drawing her attention to Loki. "Until Finn is back up to one-hundred percent; you're the captain…"

Upon hearing the words, Riveria's body tensed, and she resisted the temptation to clench her hands shut as they sat out on her knees. There was no doubt in her mind that it was going to come to this. From all of the time working under Finn as the Vice-Captain, she had gained an enormous amount of insight in how to employ and create various strategies. Coupled along with her education from her youth that was designed to prepare her for her family's tradition, this should be no problem. But yet her body remained tense.

"You have full authority now, Riveria. I know it's a lot, but we've all been through worse, haven't we?" Loki said as she slowly rose to her feet as she stuck her thumbs into her pockets. "Just keep our heads cool no matter what gets thrown at us."

Riveria nodded once more as the uncertainty faded from her face. All they could do was focus on the things that they could control. Hoping that alone would be enough to secure the city, and their place in it once more despite the mounting odds against them.

There they set off on their separate ways. To do only what they knew they could control and contribute to. To spread word of the change of power in the familia, to alert the others of the circumstances surrounding the events of the dungeon. All must be informed, all must be on their best behavior.

For some, that would be easier than others. But so long as they try, and do, perhaps there may be a chance.

To achieve reconciliation, to redeem themselves despite whatever misgivings that may come. To prove that once again that the Loki familia is and always was for the people of the Orario. Whether that meant traversing through the depths of the Dungeon, or halting the forces of Evilus that sought to do their home harm.

It was one of the reasons why Loki pursued Riveria when their interests aligned. To be given a fresh start, a new life, in service of others.

For their city.

For their home.

For their familia.

It was also why Loki had faith in her, a purpose that she could believe in and follow. For the woman with jade hair and eyes was now their Captain.

"△▼△▼△▼△"

6.

With the water slowing it's pour, and a body freshly washed, Ansem dried himself with a clean towel. However therapeutic the waters may have been, the weight on his conscience, one full of grief and a torrent of emotions still remained. But he steadied himself, by reminding himself to breathe.

To feel the ground beneath his feet.

And the warm moist air that clung to his body.

Every sensation, every sense.

All to ground himself in the world that he now occupies.

Slowly opening his eyes upon one last deep breath, he spotted a small stack of clothing sitting neatly on the small table near the door. At some point, more than likely during his shower, Amid had returned and discretely delivered some fresh clean clothes.

Another act of kindness paid to a person in need.

Somehow, by some great chance, he had been lucky enough to have been surrounded by such compassionate people.

As he caressed the soft fabric, he held it to his nose and took a deep breath in. The smell of an open field filled his nose, and if he tried hard enough it'd be like he was standing in one in the warm breath as the cicadas chirp in the distance.

It was nostalgic.

"Thank you." He mumbled quietly.

Dressing himself in the plain white t-shirt, and off gray sweatpants, he began his return to the infirmary where the others lay resting. For him, he felt that he was dressed in a far too relaxed manner as the clock counted down in the back of his head.

There was so much to do in so little time.

To understand the current state of affairs between the current familias, catch up on events. He needed to find answers to the unfathomable amount of questions that coursed through his mind.

Finishing a mental list, his mind moved onto the state of those laying restfully, pondering whether or not Amid had administered the second dose of the elixir. He could imagine that as a professional, she'd be wary of a concoction from an unknown source. The only way for her to gain confidence in it was for her to test it, and test again. Once that was completed, she would test for a third time just to be sure.

For it wasn't her life that she'd be risking. It would be her patients.

The other way that she could grow confident in the elixir would be to see it first hand. But to do so in a way that wouldn't undermine her authority, or break whatever trust she had placed in him, was a delicate matter. For in a professional sense, the others who lay resting, weren't his responsibility. They were hers.

It was a tedious thought process going back and forth, with no end in sight. That was until he entered the room.

Seated amongst the resting was a woman with red hair near the boy, who too shared a similar shade of red.

Is that his mother?

Carefully stepping in, determined not to make a sound to disrupt this moment between the two, his foot managed to find the one creaky floorboard in the room. Immediately, the woman's head shifted at the sound and slowly turned to face him. And what he saw was no mother, but the same deity who he accompanied to see with Jai.

Hephaestus.

Her one red eye peered softly upon him, and as quickly as she had recognized him, she turned away. Returning her attention back to the boy who was resting before her. Dismissing Ansem's presence.

Having failed his attempt at being discreet, he simply walked down the middle alley of the room to the bed that awaited him. Carefully placing his bag on the chair beside his bed, the porcelain plates of armor softly clanked and chimed as they shifted then settled in his bag.

Shooting Hephaestus a cautious glance, she bared him no mind as she sat fixated with the boy. Her soft gaze taking in every detail of him.

Was it the look of a concerned mother figure, or a lover?

The two possibilities clashed in his mind. But whatever the case, they both shared a level of sentimentality that could not be ignored, not even at a distance.

"Is he one of yours?" Ansem quietly asked, with just enough volume to reach her ears. Yet she sat still, determined not to break her gaze. For a while it seemed that she was insistent on keeping her silence, that is until-..

"They both were." She said softly.

Ansem softly nodded, he didn't understand what exactly she meant, but it was evident, even on a deity's face, that she was processing something on her mind. And while he was curious, who the 'other' was, which he assumed was Jai, he dared not pry into a matter that didn't involve him, for Jai's sake.

"Umm, if it helps.. They should be fine." He tried to reassure her but upon hearing those words, Hephaestus shot him a single glare.

"Do they look fine to you?" Hidden in her voice was a touch of ferocity that took Ansem aback.

"That's not what I meant…" It was a half-assed attempt to comfort another, at least that was how it seemed to him. He could've thought of a number of different ways to say the same thing but with better effect. "They were a lot worse before. This-? Now? It might not look like it, but there's been worse. They're going to be ok."

Turning his royal blue eyes to the boy resting in the hospital bed, he returned his attention back to the deity.

"He's going to be ok."

"You seem so sure." She said so unenthusiastically as she trained her eye on him.

"Mhm." Ansem nodded. "Sometimes believing helps. That things will find a way to be whole again. You know it's like-…" A part of him couldn't believe what he was about to say to a deity. "-It's like faith."

A soft chuckle escaped from Hephaestus' own lips as she gazed upon the boy. Yet it was a chuckle that Ansem couldn't tell whether or not it held any sour feeling.

"Faith." She muttered to herself.

Ansem's eyes fell just as the silence did.

"Yeah, faith." He said quietly to himself.

Standing in front of the hospital bed, he didn't quite know what to do. Hesitation and indecision gripped him as the list pinged in the back of his mind. There was too much to do, to allow for rest.

I've rested long enough. We-… I can't afford to waste any more time.

Reaching down for his bag, he sought the one thing that would allow him to put all of his thoughts on paper. His journal. Nestled back in a pouch, he retrieved its leather bound spine and cover and drew out the pen that was hidden in the gap of the spine and bounds of paper.

Gingerly hopping onto the hospital bed he began writing out everything that he knew about what was to come, and how to salvage as much as possible.

And yet, before long the weight that wore itself on him, reached for his eyes and drew him into a slumber.

A pair of footsteps drew closer from the hallway but seemingly stopped after reaching a certain point. By all means they weren't Amids. Amid's own were intentionally soft, and delicate. These seemed almost light but spontaneous, borderline chaotic.

Wait a second. Hephaestus thought to herself as she glanced to the open doorway. I know those footsteps..

What followed after could only be described as an indecent ruckus.

"What is that Wallen-or-something doing here?!" A woman screamed.

For a moment, Hephaestus cringed as the sound breached through the silence, disturbing it's peace. Immediately she glanced at Welf and found him to still be resting peacefully. Though she knew this temper tantrum would be far from over, and soon everyone in the entire building would be forced to come to the conscious world and be reminded of her friend's presence.

"Goddess please,-!" Bell pleaded as he sat upright on the hospital bed. Putting himself directly in between Hestia and Aiz, who sat at the foot of the bed.

It was the same old ball and dance, and everytime Aiz wore that same confused stare as she tried to process what was wrong as Hestia reached out waving her finger and soon to be clenched fist.

Hestia claimed Bell as his own, and declared that any and all who would desire his heart would bear her wrath. At least that was the poetic way of putting it. In reality it was anything but a poetic battle of hearts.

"You have no business being anywhere near my Bell! Do you hear me! You going around people's backs making secrets! You little homewrecker!"

For Bell, this was the one time it was a strenuous effort as his body ached and groaned even against the feather weight of a goddess pressing herself against him.

Seconds passed, and then Hestia's long time friend, Hephaestus stepped into the door frame with a blank stare on her face. With one hand she reached out and plucked the tiny deity from the hospital bed.

As she hovered in midair, Hestia hands floated as a clueless expression flashed across her face before that expression turned to a rebellious grimace as she was set down a short distance from Bell protecting Aiz.

"What do you think you're doing!?" Hestia said as she flailed her arm to her friend, readying another statement.

But before the words could escape her lips a solid smack filled the room that caused Bell and even Aiz to freeze.

Hephaestus had struck Hestia, her own friend, with a solid slap across the face bringing the tantrum to an end as Hestia dumbfoundedly touched her face.

"You hit me?" Hestia couldn't believe what had happened as she gazed at her friend.

Gone was the raging flame of Hestia's wrath, in its place only confusion.

Hephaestus spoke no words and grabbed her friend's hand and pulled her away out of the room. The short and light deity had no strength to oppose Hephaestus, and caved in as her steps fumbled as she tried to keep up with her friend's steps.

Hestia's confusion was only compounded by how and why she had been struck. Never had this happened, not by Hephaestus.

Reaching the door, Hephaestus swung Hestia into the open door frame where there they both stood with a view of the state of her familia.

Thrusting Hestia's hand away, Hestia took a few steps into the room as she peered upon them all in silence.

"They-… They're-….?" Hestia uttered.

But Hephaestus said nothing as she bore a scornful gaze upon her.

"Are they-..?" Hestia turned to Hephaestus with trembling eyes.

"If you had any care for your own children, you would've asked that to Bell or Amid instead of throwing a fit over something as menial as that." Hephaestus pointed to Bell's room where both him and Aiz still reside.

"I-… I'm sorry. I didn't-.." Hestia tried to say as she swung her head as she gazed upon her children. "I didn't know."

"Don't apologize to me. Apologize to all of them."

"I-.."

"All of them." Hephaestus bore her gaze upon Hestia, to where she couldn't help but look away. But anywhere she looked she found her familia and it's inescapable truth.

"I will." Hestia said as she bobbed her in agreement with eyes a flutter.

Hestia made her way back to the room, where it all began. Once she had appeared in the door, Bell instinctively moved his arm in front of Aiz.

With her temper subsided, Hestia saw it, that instinctive reaction to protect her. That was the impression that she had made, that Bell would have to go to the extent of protecting someone he cared about even from his own patron deity. That thought smacked itself across the forefront of her mind.

"I-.. I'm sorry, Bell-.." Normally the name Wallenstein, or commonly from her tongue, Wallen- followed by some other combination of petty words that were intended to disregard her in any way possible, so long as Aiz was close to Bell. That Hestia was the most important woman in his life. "-I'm sorry, Wallenstein."

"It's ok." Aiz said, trying her best to fully understand everything that had happened in the short amount of time. But still, it didn't quite make sense to her, as if the actions she had witnessed were strangely detached and didn't affect her at all, but should.

Amidst the silence, Aiz's eyes danced to Bell's still outstretched arm trying to protect her. There she saw the slight but intense heaves of his breaths as he tried to steady himself. This stillness seemed almost aloof, as if Bell was no longer present.

So soon had he lost one person, and so close was he to having lost many, he couldn't stand the thought of losing someone else.

"Bell?" Aiz's voice gently rung into his ear, as she gently placed her hand on his arm. The sensation of her hand against his skin startled him as he shook his head with eyes a flutter as he tried to come to grasp the reality before them.

From Aiz to Hestia, rubellite eyes swung, and then finally he hunched over resting his head upon his hands as his breath came unsteadied. Reaching out her hand, Aiz gently placed her hand on his back. Through her aloof eyes, she saw the pain that coursed through him. One that she was so in touch with, that she couldn't bare to see it in him.

"Bell-?..." Hestia asked, cautiously taking a step forward.

"Please just give me a second." His voice peaked through his hands as he tried to steady himself.

Unable to grasp what had transpired in the depths of the dungeon, it seemed that now of all times would be one of the most opportune times to ask, though it certainly would come at a great emotional toll to Bell. And ultimately deciding to leave only the worry and wonder in her mind, void of any answers, as she inched herself closer to him, ignoring the contact that was shared between him and Aiz.

With patient eyes Hestia waited for Bell. For his sake, that was all she could do.

"You know I wouldn't keep a secret from you, right?" Bell said through his fingers.

Throughout so much of their time together, never once had Bell really tried to hide anything from Hestia. The level of trust that he placed within her often made Hestia feel like the only person in the world. But before her answer to reassure him could roll off of her tongue, he spoke.

"-Just like how I know you wouldn't hide anything from me."

A force hit her conscious head-on with a magnitude that rivaled some of the most ferocious beasts. All because of one little secret.

Liaris Freese.

"△▼△▼△▼△"

7.

Somewhere in another part of building, Amid's eyes shown the white of her eyes as the ruckus broke out. Darting out of her office, where she worked on the verifying the contents of the elixirs and the vial of water, she reached the hallway and found the sight of Hephaestus pulling Hestia along.

Quietly tiptoeing to Bell's room, she checked in on the two who were fine despite the ruckus. Further down the hall she went to ensure the soundness of the room that many of her patients resided in.

She couldn't allow them to be awoken in such a manner. Deity or not. It would be utterly disrespectful to those resting under her care.

Stopping just before the door, she heard the last bits of conversation. If it really could be called such a thing. Hephaestus towered over Hestia, scorning her like a parent would to a child who acted out of line.

As Hestia left, she paid no mind to Amid. When in truth, Amid doubted that the deity took notice of her presence. Though as Hephaestus had saved her the trouble of reprimanding Hestia, she was still obligated to check up on the others.

Entering the room, Hephaestus turned to meet her purple eyes.

"Thank you for handling that for me." Amid said kindly expressing her appreciation.

"You don't have to thank me for that." Hephaestus said as she stood above Welf. Carefully taking in every detail of his resting face. Noting how precious and vulnerable the children of this mortal world were. How so close one can be to death. "But I'd like to know, will they be ok?"

"I believe so, yes." Amid said softly as to be sure to not wake anyone. "They were administered a potion of sorts that helped them get this far in their recovery. With what was brought to me, I believe it can be refined to be even more effective than what it already was."

From what she gathered in a few of her short tests, and from what she had noticed from her patients, was that the potion itself seemed to be not haphazardly put together, but rushed. The ratios of the ingredients made it effective, yes, but a little harsh, which is where what she identified were potions acted as the healing agent to reverse whatever potential damage may have been in rejecting the foreign body from their system.

It was as if the sole purpose was to have them survive.

In truth, when venturing down a diagnosis and treatment that she had never seen, she could never really be sure if the end result was a harsh because it was rushed, or simply because they had too low of a tolerance for it.

Amid could see a flash of confusion on Hephaestus' face at the word potion.

"There is a key ingredient in the potion that, to my understanding, seems to aid the body in rejecting whatever was introduced into their system. I've isolated and identified that key ingredient, and shortly we should have something to administer to them."

Amid's eyes gently drifted from Hephaestus, the confidence she had in the efficiency of it was well high after confirming it's effects on a small sample of what she had assumed to be the culprit. A black residue was found on one of her patients clothing.

Her findings had found that the key ingredient coagulated and engulfed the sample, much like how the immune system would fight off foreign invaders within a body. She couldn't say that she had seen anything like it, as the world of medicine usually changed at such a rate that carried new advances in providing care. But for Amid this seemed to be an antiquated treatment option and considering the lack of information on this black residue, but it led her to believe that it is quite possibly the most effective option out there.

"So yes, once that potion is administered I believe they will make a full recovery. Right now they just need rest." She tried to reassure Hephaestus as her attention continued to swap between Amid and Welf.

"If this potion is not one you have originally made, then surely you know who did. You must've gotten it from someone." Hephaestus said as she turned back to Welf.

With Hephaestus' attention turned to Welf, Amids eyes subtly gazed past her to the resting man. It was only a guess carried by the fact that the man had the same scent of the potion that was given to her by Riviera. A scent faintly sweet and minty. But scent alone was not enough to come to a final conclusion as to it's source. Especially considering how much she didn't know of what had happened down below.

"Unfortunately, I was given only the potion by Riviera who claimed that it was someone else. Who that is? Well, all I have is a guess." Carefully bringing her eyes back to Hephaestus. "-And no concrete answer for you."

"If you-..." Hephaestus took a pause, correcting herself, before turning to Amid. "When you find out, please let me know."

It may have been from what had heard sometime ago, that Hephaestus had allowed one of her own to aide the Hestia familia. That even now, she still considers him one of her own despite the distance between them. Ever watchful and considerate.

"-I'd like to thank them." Hephaestus said.

"Of course." Amid said with a polite bow of her head. "If you'll excuse me, I should inform Hestia of the current state of her familia."

"Please do so."

With that they parted ways, leaving Hephaestus with Welf. She sat on the chair returning to his side once more. Fixated on the resting face before her.

As Amid returned to Bell and the others, she continued her role as captain of the Dian Cecht familia.

"△▼△▼△▼△"

8.

Ansem strung up like a puppet patiently waiting for its master's return, hung his head with his gaze focused on the floor that bore the red stains from his injuries. There was no leverage he could use to pry the restraints free from the wall as his body hung ever so intricately with that goal in mind.

There was one possibility that came to mind, but it came at a great risk. Always having called it an 'inheritance', it was something that he could never control, not in the same capacity as his sister.

Though he often contemplated whether or not, she had the same experience when she chose to use this gift.

That consequence of using something within mortal flesh was pain. A blazing pain that enveloped and burned his being. To throttle and control its essence, was something he could never do as every fiber of his being felt like it was being burned and torn apart.

But would it be just enough to free him of these restraints and to flee and to warn his familia and sister of the coming danger?

Or would he become incapacitated upon releasing it's essence?

There was too much risk, but in a time like this when the fate of his familia and the city was at stake, he couldn't allow himself to not to.

Closing his eyes, he focused his breath, and relaxed his body and mind as much as he could. Preparing himself for the torrent of pain that would envelop him. There grew a pressure in his chest that rose to his throat. At first it was gentle as it continued through his being but then it came, just like it always had.

The heat that rose into a scalding burn, that caused him to clench his jaws and writhe in pain.

Already it was too much.

The entire time he didn't know he was holding his breath, and he released a sudden exhale as the fire receded into him. Opening his eyes, it felt like he was returning back to this world with all of his sense. Most prominently smell.

The scent of burning flesh light wafted off of him as his body cooled and there he could feel the restraints still clutching wrists.

There grew a grimace on his face.

It wasn't enough.

Despite all of that pain, it wasn't enough.

Within his heart he couldn't allow failure. Steading his breath, he prepared to try again, but before he could close his eyes there was the sound of heavy footsteps that crunched against the dirt and dust that covered the floor.

They had come out of nowhere as if only deeming it necessary to make their presence available now.

How?

It wasn't a stealth skill.

Ansem's eyes lingered at the bottom of the cell door in front of him where the pair of boots came to a stop.

Slowly rising his gaze, to the arrival of his guest, it wasn't Hermes, nor the other tapping deity.

No this one was draped in a cloak that concealed his identity in a darkness that seemed no light could penetrate. They stood tall, with a broad build and what could only be described as a thick belt covered by the cloak that hung from under both of his arms down to his waist.

And what followed was a pressure in the air, the emanated solely from the being.

There was only one possibility who this could be.

The deity who was responsible for it all. For the deaths of so many people, including a few of his own who weren't fortunate to survive the Harbinger's onslaught.

Wordless, and ominous. The Deity gazed upon Ansem.

It was the first time he had come face to face with this being, there was so much he wanted to yell and scream. To ask and to answer.

As all of those thoughts rushed through his mind, there raced one that overwhelmed all of the others.

He never should've stopped trying to summon that burning essence. If he had successfully done so, he'd be free. Free to fight. To clear his name and provide the life that his familia had taken from them. A life where they could walk out in the streets freely without worry or concern.

Where they all could be free.

The Deity reached out his gloved hand to the metal bars in a manner so gently it looked as if he was cupping his hand to handle the petals of a flower.

With a single touch, the bars crumbled into grains of metallic sand onto the ground and onto the deity's cupped hand.

The color drained from Ansem's face as shock overwhelmed him as a pressure briefly pulsed in the air around them.

They broke the number one rule for a deity who wished to enter this mortal realm. They used their arcanum. A power so destructive and divine, that no living mortal could ever reach their heights of power. But not only that, to utilize their power in a manner that they could shape the world around them, to turn metal into sand

The difference between him and the Deity before him, was so far that Ansem may as well be as much of a threat as the sand that resides in their hand.

Clenching their hand, they gripped the metallic sand tightly. Causing the sand at the edge of their hand to trickle to the floor as the rest remained packed tightly in their grip.

"Was it that, you were trying to accomplish?" They spoke curiously in a deep voice that bore no accent, nor any distinguishable factor. "Hmm?"

No words could come from Ansem's mouth. He hung simply helpless at the power of the Deity before him.

The black shadow of a face curiously gazed upon him as he clenched his hand and opened it slowly.

Gone was the sand, and in it's place was a metallic black knife. Reshaped and reformed with intent. Harnessing their arcanum with such ease and without a single care, was as astonishing as it was terrifying.

The survival instinct of fight, flight or freeze, is one for survival. And his body was instinctually screaming all of them.

There was no limit to what this Deity could do, other than their own restraint.

In this state, only another deity could kill them.

"I'm sure you're wondering why I've come here to see you." They said as they cradled the knife in the open hand. Closely examining the fine detail of the handle of the blade.

"Why after all this time, I've chosen to reveal myself to you in the belly of the beast."

Ansem could only assume that the Deity was examining the restraints set in place for him.

"It's quite simple, I can do the same to those chains that bind you as I have to this measly cell. Effectively releasing you. so long as you stand by my side and help me reshape this world to escape the plague that grips it now. To finish was intended from the beginning."

"Surely you know of the gift that you possess and the lives you can change with it. To rid people of their complacency and create a world where you and so many can reach their fullest potential that resides within." They spoke humbly, not brashly or proudly. They were words that were oddly compelling with their compassion.

"The other option is just as simple. You die as a martyr for my cause. Your memory to live on, as this idol in the minds of those who recognize the dire straits that the world is in. To inspire."

The Deity gripped their knife as he stood there waiting.

Regardless of the terms were structured there was no positive outcome for Ansem. They only suited this Deity. If he rejected, the Deity would kill him and they would continue their endeavor with potentially greater backing from future radicals that resided in the city.

Or even if he took his hand and joined his side, he'd assume that he'd be nothing more than a dog. Gone would the Ansem be that his familia knew.

A pressure swelled up in his chest and behind his eyes at the idea of abandoning them. If it were for them to live on, then absolutely. But if it were for something as selfish as to live solely for himself, than he already knew his answer.

Steadying his breath, he gripped his hand and readied himself for the worst. Already he could feel the heat rising inside.

"You want to force people to fight." Ansem's voice trembled with exhaustion and anger. "You create circumstances that no matter what they'd do, they'd die."

No matter what, everyone would suffer. To change the world with such violence, to plunge people into terror, how could he follow a deity like that?

"I'd rather be damned than help you." Ansem declared with a grimace on his face.

The Deity looked upon him with visible disappointment.

"A thing like you, that was never intended to exist, was always destined to be damned." The Deity spoke with a sorrowful truth as they took a step forward. "No heaven. No rebirth. Only purgatory. Just black nothingness. A fate that not even I can change."

There was a reluctance in each step that when added together only amounted to mere seconds saved towards that black nothingness of which the Deity spoke of.

"This world will be reborn from the ashes. And the lives that will be lost, reborn where they fully realize their fullest of potential. It's a shame that this will be such a dishonorable death for you. That you will not see what I had in store for you.."

The Deity gripped the knife tightly as it steeled it's resolved, preparing to strike.

"I'm going to need you to back away from the prisoner." A woman's voice firmly warned.

The Deity stopped, and slowly turned their massive torso to face the intruder.

Standing near the hallway with her sword drawn, Vera slowly approached with her hazel eyes intensely focused and unwavering as she kept a short distance between herself and the Deity.

As the Deity registered who it was, he sighed with exasperation before turning back to Ansem.

"Let this be an example for you. For the duty that you're neglecting."

Ansem felt the blood run from face as the words graced his ears and he watched the Deity turn, gripping the knife with an intent to kill.

"NO!" Ansem howled.

It was seconds.

That was all it took, for the Deity to reach Vera and overwhelm her. She tried to swing, but the strength of the Deity who harnessed his arcanum parried the swing with ease then reached for the back of her neck and pulled her onto his blade.

As the single word escaped his breath, heat enveloped his entire body and every fiber of his being began to feel as if it was being exposed to the raw heat of the sun as he howled out. And much like the light of the rising sun, the room began to be filled with a pure light. Whatever pain that his body was bearing, his consciousness blocked out and repressed after reaching its limits.

Her armor surrounding her gut kinked then broke, as the blade pierced her gut a silent gasp of all of her breath escaped from her lips. Bearing an expression of shock, Ansem watched the color slowly begin to fade from her face as it rested on the Deity's shoulder.

There Vera watched as the light began to grow and grow. From her trembling eyes, she gasped, awestruck and in unimaginable pain.

"You will be the first of many, child. For that I am not sorry. As it is for a future that will be better for us all. Including you."

Then through the silence came a loud snap and a sudden jolt from Vera. The Deity twisted the knife, breaking the blade from the handle, leaving it twisting in her gut.

Just as soon as the light came, it had gone.

The only sensation he could feel was gravity pulling him down and his body reaching the floor within the blinding light.

Ansem gazed at his freed hands and slowly looked up to Vera's face as she gasped. Despite her pride, and the strength she had achieved, Ansem could see a single tear strolling down her face.

Dropping the handle and releasing his grip on Vera, her body slumped to the ground.

The Deity gazed upon her with pity as he sighed.

"It was far too soon for you."

Turning to Ansem, the Deity gave a brief pause as he examined Ansem, who peered up to him from the ground with exhausted breath. Surrounding Ansem came a layer of what looked to be steam as the heat within him subsided.

"-But with her sacrifice, it gives you time to reconsider my offer." The Deity said mournfully. "I'll be waiting."

In the blink of an eye, the Deity vanished as if they were never there. All that remained was the aftermath.

Vera laying on the floor, gazed upon Ansem with the only sound being her shallow breath as her life dwindled by the second.

Without a word Ansem scrambled on the ground, before the slack of the shackle on his left leg had run out. Groaning as a shock of pain spread through his leg, he reached and quickly examined the shackle.

Some of the metal had melted and the heat that his body endured was enough to warp the shape of the cuff. Weakening its overall integrity.

Gripping the two sides of the last cuff, he pried it apart freeing his foot. One half flew to the other side of the cellar. Freed from his restraints he scrambled onto the floor, reaching Vera.

Every step of the way, her eyes remained locked on him as he approached. Turning her onto her back, his frantic eyes and hands trembling as he hover over her while he examined her wound.

"D-.. D-.." Vera uttered.

"Stop. Save your strength." Ansem warned her as he shot her a careful glance.

The dark red pooled from her gut and onto the floor. And underneath her armor, gouged into her stomach was the broken blade.

"Did-.. Di- she-…"

"You need to-." Ansem was about to tell her that she needed to stop. But when he looked back at her face, he saw the regret on her face as the tears strolled down her face.

Slowly raising her hand to the collar of his shirt, she grabbed it with what strength remained.

"Did she die for nothing? Tess-… Did I kill-?" Vera's lips trembled from a mix of everything, weakness to regret.

Having the resolve of a woman so bullheaded cracked and broken to foster regret, where her last thoughts were of his sister that she had been so determined to save, Ansem trembled at the thought of how much life has already been taken. How much of his own familia had fallen, and how others were suffering.

"Stop that. We are all being played right now. Do you hear me?"

Ansem pulled her hand away and gripped with both hands. But that didn't stop the trembling eyes of a sister who had taken the life of the very person she had wanted to save.

"When you get out of here, you're going to do everything you can to make things right. But only you know what that will be. Alright? If you ever doubt what to do, listen to this." He said pointing to his own heart.

Yet Vera could only wince at the alluring words she wanted to believe, words that she would never be able to enact upon.

"I-, I can't."

"Where's my belt?"

A brief confusion flashed over her face.

"I need what's in my belt. Do you understand?" Ansem said as he gripped her hands.

Vera's eyes dizzily pointed to a series of wooden crates located at the far end of the room.

Giving Vera a nod that purely said firmly 'got it,' he rose and darted off to the crates.

Standing above them, they all wore locks. In all there were only three. But still, time was of the essence. Gripping the lid with both hands, he placed one foot against the crate to force it against the wall so it wouldn't move. Pulling up, the metal groaned and the wood boards creaked before finally giving in. Flinging the lid back, the bent metal loudly clanked against the cellar wall.

"WHY ISN'T THE DAMN DOOR OPENING?!" A voice yelled from the other side.

Ansem's eyes grew wide.

"Shit."

I need to hurry, none of this is going to look good.

Reaching into the hay that lay within the crate, he swung his arm around and found what he was looking for. Taking his belt and throwing it around his waist, it locked in place with a satisfying click.

Reaching into the crate once more, but with both hands, he searched for his sword.

From front to back he carefully sifted through the hay, and conveniently enough it was all in one crate.

Pulling his sword out, it was laid in its sheath.

Inching the blade out, he could feel the worry fester in his chest that his sword was broken out of his capturers rebellion. A worry that soon faded as he felt the familiar weight of the blade against the hilt of the sword.

A sigh of relief escaped from his breath as he briefly closed his eyes.

Locking the sheath in place on his belt, with the kit Tessaryne had designed for him, he rushed back to Vera who was watching him the entire time.

Falling to his knees, he systematically reached for one of the pouches on his belt. Inside was something that was normally solely for him, something that looked as unsuspecting as a small vial of water that he relied on due to his condition.

In his hand was a small vial that held the clear liquid, in the other hand he held a small piece of leather. Pulling the cork out, he was already moving to clear the wound of the blade until Vera stopped him with a single word.

"Why?"

Why did he want to save her? As much pain as she had caused and as angry as he was, he knew that they all were victims of a malicious tune that they were being forced to dance to. To continue that dance, they'd have no hope of stopping what lays in wait.

"Because if we are to have any hope for saving this city from that thing that calls itself a god, we need to stand together. And what's here." Ansem said as he reminded her by pointing to his own heart.

To listen to the values that reside within her own heart.

"To be fair, loyal, and compassionate. That's what rests in mine. I'm entrusting you to follow what rests in yours to make things right."

It were as if he had the sight to see into her, to pluck the darkness of regret that was beginning to fester from her heart by giving her a hope that she could wield tightly and not let go of. A hope that could fight off the darkness.

"For Tessaryne."

It was the last time he was ever going to be able to say her name. The woman who was like a daughter to him.

"For your sister."

And it was the last time Vera had been able to see her sister in such a long time.

Hope.

As blinding and damning as it could be, it can be a truly powerful thing.

Holding out the piece of leather to her mouth.

"Bite this."

Without hesitation, she bit into the leather and clenched her jaws. On the other side of the door, forces rammed into the wooden door that stood reinforced with metal began to creak and moan. It was going to give way in a matter of moments.

Ripping open the armor that surrounded her belly, he reached into another pouch that held a few handkerchiefs. They were by no means enough to stop the bleeding, but were simply a means to clear the area.

Reaching into the dark red pool and found the metal blade. Even the slightest bit of disturbance sent Vera reeling as pain shot through her body. Wasting no time, he pulled the blade out from her just as the door was being torn down. Whatever pressure there was in her torso shot a pulse of blood into Ansem's face causing him to throw the blade away. Sending it shimmer across the ground.

"Shit." Ansem said in a hush under his breath as he tried to clear the blood from his eyes with one of the handkerchiefs which proved to only improve his vision by a small margin. The only things that were visible and clear were what was up close. Otherwise everything was painted in a red blur.

Clearing the blood with the handkerchiefs he poured the water on the wound as a small stream tried to trickle out. As soon as the water made contact, the wound began to heal and close. Careful not to pour all of it on the wound, he brought the tip of it to her mouth.

"Come on, open." He said as he pulled the leather piece from her mouth.

Following his command, she weakly opened her mouth allowing him to pour the remaining water so none went to waste.

Slowly her breath returned to normal, as her bare belly slowly rose and lowered with each breath no longer pained by the injury that she had been a victim of moments ago. No scar remained, it would be as if it were all a memory. The water had successfully done its job.

With her breath returning to normal, her consciousness slipped and she fell into a dream state. But she was alive. Lowering her head to the ground, he sat on his rear end taking a deep breath in, wiping the blood from his face.

Vera had survived.

But that only resolved one side of a multifaceted problem.

He didn't notice the footsteps of his capturer's that came barging down the hallway. No, as the pain that was repressed slowly trickled into existence, he became deaf to many things. It wasn't until someone lit the area with their lantern that he had finally noticed.

Gasping, he rose to his feet with bloodied rag in hand, and the other resting on the hilt of his sword.

He could barely make out the figure who stood before him as the light blinded him. They were shorter than him, as most people usually were, and yet seemed to wear no armor. Which was strange for an adventurer, but he had no desire to fight. Not here, not now.

It seemed that the individual had no intent to fight either, for a set of different reasons.

Holding both hands out, he dropped the handkerchiefs, and revealed both palms.

"She was attacked. Not by me. She's going to be ok." Ansem tried his best to summarize what had happened.

The only response was silence from the person, as more boots followed down the hallway the tension in Ansem's chest grew.

Now was the time that he needed to make his escape.

With the entrance that was busted open now occupied by what he could only assume were adventurer's ready to defend themselves with lethal intent, he swung his gaze to find an alternate route.

The lens of the lantern carefully shifted, still blinding him from being able to ascertain the individual's identity, but aiming it so subtly that it pointed him to the door on the far side of the room.

"Thank you." Ansem said to the silhouette.

Darting off to the door, he pulled the locked door at it's handle, forcing it open. Running off into the darkness of the alternative corridor he fled as fast as he could. There was no reason to stop and convince them of what had happened.

Their perception of the menace known as Ansem was too great to allow anything else.

All he needed was to reach his familia before it was too late.

Standing in the room frozen, it seemed like the seconds that had passed were minutes. Ansem was gone, Vera somehow injured and cured. According to his words it was by an unknown assailant. Who? He didn't specify.

As the rest of the adventurer's came flowing in the figure wandered their gaze to Vera's sleeping body and then to the door.

She couldn't believe she had let him escape.

But none of it seemed right.

Author's Note: Hello everyone! And welcome back! Yes it's been a long time and no, I didn't abandon the story. In order to ensure that I was giving this chapter the highest quality, I needed to take my time with this as a lot happens. That, and as well as the occupation I'm currently in, just finished it's busiest time of the year, which required a lot of physical and mental energy. That mental energy is crucial when it comes to writing.

But that's over thankfully! Now onto the good stuff.

I added a few quality of life edits to this chapter in particular. One being, numbered scenes, if you have to come back to this at least you know what numbered scene you left off on. As well as the characters name being bold to tell that this is the scene's current perspective that we are viewing it from. Because I'm sure it'd get very confusing.

I hope those help.

As for the content of the story, we see a lot of things going on. The plan moving forward is that I'm trying to have two chapters for every day that is in the story. Which means, chapters may be just as long as this one. A minimum 14k words, soft maximum would be 21k words.

So effectively this chapter marks the end of, let's call it, "day one."

If my plan for this book goes according to how I think it will, it'll be longer than the last one before we move onto the third. Yes. There will be a third, and that will bring the arc of this entire story full circle. That's another reason why this is taking so long, so I can carefully plan out scenes on how relevant they are to the current book, and how it all ties together either in the end of this "book" or the next.

And finally! HAPPY NEW YEAR!

I hope you all are safe and well, and continue to stay safe wherever you may be! Thank you for making it this far and I hope you enjoy!