Bela and Edith would take the chance to talk in between Malcolm's rounds. Sometimes the man would still come by just to watch them. Other times, he looked like he was just going about his routines without a single care to be had.

Another dosage of antibiotics for Edith. Followed by that, a forcible kiss on the young woman's lips. There was nothing that she could do to turn him away. Bela had to listen on as he called Edith his "first true wife." The brunette would only acknowledge what he had told her, even though she wanted nothing to do with him at all.

Mabel, on the other hand, did not fare too well. Because she was still mostly intact and not confined to a bed with life-sustaining measures in place, Malcolm's sadistic sex drive compelled him to tear the woman away from her cage and throw her back into his room. Bela wanted to scream the moment he saw him go for her, but what could she do?

The woman's cries could be heard through the walls. If only the blonde could just free herself from her chain, she would run in there and kill him. Sadly, It was all just a fantasy at this point. As long as she was locked away in here, there would be nothing that she could do. The only thing available to her was Edith's comfort, which she also sought to repay, as well.

"You're stronger than him, even at your age," Bela reminded her. It brought along a smile across the girl's face, as she had needed to hear something like that.

"Thank you…Bela," Edith had replied, trying her best to sort through the current trauma that their fellow prisoner was enduring.

When Malcolm was finished with Mabel, the woman was once again thrown back into her pen and the door was secured with a lock. Bela couldn't take her eyes off the set of keys that he kept on him. That was going to be her means to escape, but she still couldn't find the opportunity to grab them. It was a carrot dangled in front of a desperate rabbit, and she was ready to jump at the first chance to do so.

With Mabel's cage all secured, Malcolm straightened out his body as he turned his attention to the other woman he had locked up. His eyes were still on Bela like a hungry dog, and she could see that something grim was drawing closer. "It's almost time," he remarked. "We're getting there, aren't we?"

Her concerns became even more real. Those pale hands gripped the chain as she shifted her body around the cage. What was he referring to?

"I think so…" Bela's words left her mouth without much thought behind them. She was just following along with whatever he would say. She was on auto-pilot at this point, doing what she believed she needed to do to stay alive.

"Mhmm," he grinned as he walked over toward her and brought up that chair that he loved to sit in. Malcolm's eyes drifted around to Edith, studying where he had gone wrong with her. The once beautiful young woman that he had snagged had been mutilated and rendered nearly unusable. In his madness, he allowed his hands to take the lead, which caused him to ruin something he once enjoyed so much.

She would never be able to leave him, yes, but what was she now? Mabel was a greater success story, but he had come to learn that he wanted a wife who could look at him and speak. These two captives were symbols of his wicked heart.

Edith – his desire for control and communication.

Mabel – his desire for the female body.

One could not offer the same things as the other, so he turned his sights to the newest woman that he had brought in. Bela was indeed beautiful. Her body would serve the purpose that he sought from it. On the same token, her voice and ways of talking also took hold of his interest. The way she buckled under his authority was just as pleasurable as the secrets that she held under her gown. She would be able to verbally and visually respond to his actions.

He only grew more excited at the thought of it.

She would have to be different. If he had to mutilate her, he would need to find a way to preserve both those crucial aspects. She could not escape, nor argue, but she had to remain usable. Otherwise, she would just be another failure – one that he could not allow to happen.

"How is your reading coming along?" He asked.

"I have…" Bela bit down on her upper lip. She did not want to say what was going to lead her closer to the next stage of her despair, but she had to, "I have learned more."

Malcolm lifted his nose at her, his eyes peeking down at the book beside her legs. "Give me that book," he demanded. She obeyed him without question, picking up the large binding of text and handing it to him through the bars. The man seized it and split it open, his gaze attached to the first columns that he could read.

"Have you gotten to the part where the origins of our gods are described?"

She pondered that knowledge for a second, debating whether or not her stress had clouded her eyesight again. "No," she answered, unaware of how these figures came to be.

Malcolm sighed, annoyed that he had to explain it. Unbeknownst to Bela, he had grown tired of the process. This was all taking too long, but what needed to be done must be completed before the ceremony could begin. This would have normally taken just a few days. Someone like Edith had already been prepared from the start, while Mabel's nearly unending beatings delayed the process for her.

Bela had to be the exception. He would steer her in the right direction and ensure that she was ready. She just needed to know more.

"The Fabled Ones were not the start of our universe," he informed her. "They were the start of us. Our world was their home, and they were born from the elements that surrounded us. Peregled was the first of the four, having wrangled the strength from the heavens into his spear. Satterion used her sword to light up the skies, taking the glow from the stars far away. Armistus gave us the oceans and the seas from his sweat, having toiled to shape our lands. Inactliot, finally, used his hammer to offset the course of this world, giving us the seasons that be."

Malcolm leaned forward and addressed her directly, "You will remember this, understand?"

"I understand."

"They fashioned their horses from their powers, which are linked to the strength of this world. As long as our world spins, so too shall they ride."

Bela tried to look like she was following along, knowing that he would likely assault her if she appeared uninterested. She'd take his words at face value, however. The way he had said it to her was more of a warning, rather than a piece of advice.

He continued, "Dark forces already existed in the regions outside our world, and by nature, they seeped into this planet, and us as well. The Fabled Ones tried to fight them off, but scars remained. Those scars are the lifestyles that transgressors such as yourself have chosen. You are children outside of the Fabled One's teachings. An infestation that our creators have fought once before, but as their children, they stay their hand, unless you continue to choose that wretched path."

Bela repeated herself, "I understand."

The corner of Malcolm's mouth grimaced as he straightened out his glasses and scoff at her, "Whores tarnish their own bodies. The Fabled Ones built us as they had built themselves. Satterion, the mother of all women, would banish herself to a mountain of flame if she saw you now." He leaned back in his chair. "Thankfully, there are better people than you out there who will steer you right. The Fabled Ones love their children, but unless we sort each other out, then they would have to dispense their acts of chaos upon us."

His hand waved toward the door that led to the outside world. "As you can see, there were not enough people like me, so therefore, they have already lost this city. I will bring light to the darkness. Banish the whore of shadows, but it starts with you. I am the hand of our parents, and I will inflict their anger upon my brothers and sisters who do not obey them."

That isn't what a sibling is supposed to do.

He smiled at her, "Don't you agree?"

She hesitated, having felt a deeper connection to his words than she had expected. There was no agreement whatsoever. It only reminded her of the life that she had lived before she came to this place.

Her mother's praise was always the top prize for her. She strived day and night to obtain it, often at the cost of her energy and well-being. Every action was a tribute to the woman who had created her. There could be nothing else but that. Yet, there were moments where she had tried so hard, only to fail in her efforts.

Not a single fragment of gratitude to be tossed her way. She remembered some evenings when Alcina would yell at her during dinner, all because she had talked about something that was "not proper for a noblewoman."

It wasn't just her. Cassandra often found their mother's rage time and time again. Sometimes, it had been rightfully earned, yes. But, then there were other times. Times that Bela could see just how much her younger sibling had been struggling for help, stuck between obstacles that she could not overcome on her own. Alcina would not lend a hand to reach out. She would just yell, telling the brunette that she had to better her ways.

Cassandra would just fall back into obedience – just as they all did.

Obedience in the same fashion that Malcolm had demanded. A quick response, direct and without thought.

Cassandra was the perfect example, and Bela had long overlooked that. Back then, the blonde had relied on her sister's shortcomings to make herself look like the better one. She would rise above and do what needed to be done, at the expense of those around her. The years and responsibilities would soon take their toll, and when results that were now expected of her failed to be yielded, she would be nothing different than the middle child.

At first glance, it was a drive to do better. Sharpen all of her rough edges. Later, it became a reason to look down upon herself, something that she still did to this very hour. Now, after learning of the loving relationship that Edith had with her father, and listening to Malcolm's twisted perspective of a religion that the paralyzed woman had found her heart in, Bela realized that there was a truth that she had never noticed.

Her lack of self-worth wasn't due to her mother's demands not being met – they were a reflection of the love that she had not given. Each time Bela had strayed from her place, she had been promptly brought back into it. Whether it be the wine she made being poured out in front of her, or a fancy dinner pushed away in disgust, there had been signs that all was not right.

Alcina never gave her anything that was about her, besides the jewelry that Malcolm had torn off her neck. It was gifted as a testament to their shared blood. A symbol of the lives she and her sisters would live together. Bela had adored her family, but the necklaces and jewels always had to stay on, even when they were alone.

She remembered her mother screaming in a fury during one of their earlier years when Cassandra had taken it off, complaining about discomfort. The matriarch reasoned that it insulted the love she had given to her daughter, as the child had failed to pay it back. Such an overlooked detail, lost to the tide of decades, but Bela had not forgotten it, as neither did the brunette, most likely.

Cassandra's problem did not matter. Alcina's did. It always had to be about her, just as it had been from day one.

The blonde carried the idea of the perfect parent in her mind, but neither her own, nor Malcolm's description of one, matched any of that.

The man noticed that she was thinking of something. It tested his anger, as his expression began to pinch. "Do you agree?"

Bela held her head down. "May I ask for clarification?"

"About what?" His voice ended with a sharp snap, but it didn't faze her. Something inside her heart was already beginning to leak out. It was like a woman who lived inside of it had been clawing at its walls for so many years, and now her mouth had found an opening and she could finally scream. She could not understand where this was now suddenly coming from.

Her mind felt so clear.

"Are the Fabled Ones ever happy with their children?"

Malcolm tilted his head. "Only when they obey them. They love them, but if they stray, then it is penance that they shall reap." With an adjustment of his glasses, the man leaned in just a little bit more. "Now, tell me that you understand."

"I do not," she responded.

With rage, the man jolted up from his chair, shoulders raised and his hand at his keys. She knew what was going to come her way, but her defiance would not end. It would be hell to pay, yes, but she just had to get this out of her. "Why?!" He screamed.

Bela kept her head down as she started to respond, only for it to slowly rise as she spoke. The voiceless daughter, who never spoke up regarding herself, had now, at last, found her words. With a curled lip, she glared back at him, her amber eyes alit with a passionate fire. "Because I do not believe that any loving parent could hate their children so passionately!"

He withdrew his keys from his side and frantically inserted them into the lock. The clanging of the metal that signaled an impending beating did nothing to stop Bela's tirade. She would speak until the very end.

Malcolm cursed at her as he undid the lock, "You transgressive bitch!"

"Parents are supposed to nurture their children!" Bela crawled to the back of her cage until the iron bars pressed against her back. "What you're saying isn't love!"

She watched in horror as the man barreled in and began to assault her. With each swing of the belt, her skin and muscles vibrated with an intense flare of pain, but the blonde would not falter. Malcolm held her down and continued to strike her, only to grow enraged at her will to resist.

"It isn't love!" She cried again. Her voice crumbled down to a whimper under the pressure of the abuse, "It isn't…love."

.

Ethan and Kyia had not left the captain's office, but neither had they spoken about returning to the room that they had come from. The brunette was quiet; not even doing much else besides sitting in her chair, staring at the wall. Her arms remained cupped in her lap. It had become her favorite posture in the last few hours.

This room was a step up from where they were before, but their progress through the rest of the constable station had grown stagnant following Bela's departure. The conversation that Kyia had initiated earlier also complicated matters, which left Ethan with very mixed thoughts.

He did not want to be angry with her, as she was speaking from her heart, and seemed to only have good intentions about it. Still, she had been as tone-deaf as ever when it came to asking him in the first place. What made things worse was that she had allowed her rejection to manifest into another one of her moods, acting as if he had done something wrong.

The man knew better than to entertain such matters. They were both adults here and he figured that Kyia should understand. Love wasn't on his mind with her, but her statements had been based on some fact. He could not stop thinking about Mia, and looking at the two women who had been beside him throughout this journey had been cause for great confusion.

Physical attraction was one thing. Both of them were beautiful in their own ways. Kyia carried a strong sense of elegance and refinement, along with a playfully nerdy attitude. He admired the warmth that she had brought with her and the way she comforted him was what he needed at the time – and still needed right now.

The conflicting thoughts that he had kept to himself all along were something that he finally needed to address within himself. Sharing a drink with her was not the smartest move, but yet, he still embarked upon it. It almost felt like that night he and Mia shared a few glasses of wine together as soon as they moved into their new home in Europe.

Ethan knew that he wanted to regain all those moments back, but the forces of fate had made their decision. Mia was gone. Dead. He could never have that back, and sitting with an entirely different woman reminded him that this was all just playing pretend.

Kyia did not look like her, nor did she act like her in every way.

Then, there was Bela.

Ethan let out a low groan as the image of the blonde came back into his mind. Just the name alone was enough to light up a fire in his body. Her family had been the cause of all his ruin. If it wasn't for them, then his daughter would still be alive. How that woman could keep such a horrible secret from him and still act like they were friends was baffling.

He wanted to kick himself in the ass for going as far as to risk his life to save hers, as well as giving her what she needed to stay comfortable. A selfish witch, just like her siblings. As far as he was concerned, she deserved to rot in this world.

Taking a seat in the captain's chair, Ethan slowly leaned back as he crossed his fingers and laid his palms on his stomach. He shut his eyes, expelling a long-winded draw out from his nostrils. Kyia briefly tilted her head over to peek at him as he did so, but she still would not say a word. He saw her from the corner of his eyes, but there was no drive in him to talk right now, either.

Maybe, everyone should just be quiet, for once. He needed time to think.

After all he had been through, Ethan just wanted to rest. The memories of his slaughtered family brought along such adrenaline from the trauma that he had been without sleep for too long. Now, nature was fighting back. His eyes and head had grown heavier, weighing him down with exhaustion. The exchange with Kyia had only expedited those feelings further along.

So much exhaustion in such few days. How could anyone still be standing after this?

The images of Bela were still playing through in his brain by the time it fell into the void of nothing. His rage would not keep him awake this time. She had lost that kind of power over him. Still, sorting through their good and bad interactions had proven to be impossible. Ethan passed out with a recollection of her friendliness to go along with her sinister past.

He fell asleep wondering just how much of the good Bela was even real.

.

Ethan's eyes would flicker open, but only slightly. The surrounding environment that was the captain's office appeared as a blurry mass of yellow light and dark, rosewood walls. His fluttering lids turned them into fleeting bursts of color that would be shut away almost instantly. He still felt connected to where he was, but at the same time, he felt weightless.

Like a bird in the dark sky, his mind was now its own being. An extension of his body, but a soul without a host. He could sense himself navigating the dense darkness, but there was no indication of where he was going. This path could likely go on forever. Perhaps it had been.

All he knew was that he was still traveling along.

Time was fluid. Seconds and minutes did not matter. They were one and the same. Everything and nothing, all at once. Ethan imagined that he was still moving through the waves of light that had carried him into the dark world that housed Serpenmoor. Along this path laid boundaries that he could never cross on his own – only ride against.

The flickers of light gave way to beams of blue and white. Through the sparks, he could see the Carpathian Mountains. Those tall, snow-glossed mounds surrounded him during that gloomy dawn. It was like he had walked out of that abandoned home all over again.

His body was back. He did not even notice it when it returned. Had it been there all along? Nothing was certain anymore. Every visual – or lack thereof – had been something that he adapted to.

Once he found himself back to normal, Ethan discovered that the ground at his feet was still as shadowy as it had been when he was on a spiritual ascent. The border between snow and darkness was obscured by various particles of black. They mixed in with the dreary colors of the sunless ground. The village was gone. There were no signs of civilization anywhere to be found.

Where was he?

The dark shadows on the ground soon vanished without warning. The air suddenly turned cold. He felt dead. Was he dead?

Ethan charged along the snowy landscape, fighting the resistance of the plush surface against his legs. He grew weaker with each step, but he did not stop. There was no direction for him to venture towards, but staying where he was wasn't an option. Something had to be somewhere, and he would find it.

The brisk wind fried his skin, burning through the layers of his clothes as if they were never there at all. The man immediately collapsed to the ground, his strength having now given way. A surrender to a life's worth of fighting, aiming to conquer a battle that he had known nothing about.

With his hands clutching the pools of frost, Ethan groaned loudly as he tried to push himself back up. The visible breath that left his mouth floated across his face as he reared his head upwards. There, in front of him, he noticed the thin legs and feet of a girl standing idly by.

Her Converse shoes and tight jeans were a figure of the modern day. He had to be back home for good. This wasn't an illusion. It couldn't have been, could it?

As he gazed further up, he could see his jacket adorned on the body of this thin, young lady. Her long blonde hair and dark baseball cap appeared to him before her face, but once he witnessed those soft features, he realized that he was practically looking into a mirror.

A mirror shared by both him – and Mia.

Her sky-blue eyes pierced the gloom of this deathly terrain. She was full of life. A life lived at a place in time he had not yet reached.

Ethan wanted to be the first one who could speak, but she beat him to the punch. The teenager knelt down before him and cupped his cheek with her warm hand. At that instant, the sting of the freezing wind died off. He was still in the snowy mountains, but it felt like he was back at home, beside a cozy fireplace.

"It's okay, Dad," she said, her speech echoing softly across the peaks around them. "You don't have to worry about me."

His heart lit up. "Rose?" Ethan's voice shuddered, still unsure if this could really be his daughter. "Is – is that you?"

She nodded with a smile, "It's me, dad. It's so good to see you."

He wanted this to be real. Had Serpenmoor been a terrible dream all along? Ethan begged the fates to make it so. He just wanted to have his little girl by his side, no matter what. The shift in her age was something that could be explained later, he thought. Anything seemed possible at this rate. She wasn't his little infant child anymore, yes, but the connection that he felt to her had not changed.

Her touch – it brought him home.

"Rose," he coughed, "I thought you were dead."

She closed her eyes and slowly shook her head. That smile never left her face. It was the same, cute little smirk that she'd give him whenever he'd wish her goodnight over her crib. "I never died, dad. I was always there. You were the one who I lost."

"What?" He raised his brow in an immediate concern. "How? What do you mean?"

"It is too much to explain," Rose said, taking her hand off his cheek and using it to hold his instead. There was no mistaking just how happy she was to be with him. "And we don't have time. But, I lost you when you saved me, and I eventually got to meet you in a realm that I went to so I could reclaim myself."

"A realm?" Ethan hopped on the opportunity to find at least some answers. "Is that what is happening to me? Am I in the same realm that you're talking about?"

"I don't know anything about the realm that you are in." Rosemary Winters briefly set her eyes down at his hand and caressed it with the edges of her thumbs. "I don't think any of that was supposed to happen to you, but you are here, as well as back there."

"What do you mean? Back where?" Ethan was beginning to grow more scared. This may not have been the salvation that he wanted it to be. It sounded like he had more challenges ahead of him. Greater ones than ever before.

However, Rose settled some of his fears right then and there, "It all worked out in the end, I promise. I'm safe where I am now, and I still think about you every day."

"I died?" Ethan asked in a confused manner. His eyes caught a glimpse of his wedding ring seated around his daughter's finger. In that brief peek, there had been no doubt in his mind that it was the same one. The rimmed edges. The tiny, circular impression in the middle. It was all there.

"Too many times," Rose stated, kissing him on the cheek. "But, you were a hell of a father. You never gave up on me. That is all a daughter can ask for. Thank you."

He was about to ask another question, but she hugged him before he could speak. Just as before, she was the one who did the talking, "Our time is running out. I'm just a vision, Dad. I cannot remain here for long. But, know that in our world, I am safe." She buried her face in his shoulder, allowing him to feel the love that he may never get to hold again.

Rose's voice was the last thing he heard in his ear before he realized that she was gone, "We'll be reunited someday, in our new world. Our new lives together. But, this is not that life. You will not sacrifice yourself for me on this new path. I am not the one you have to fight for."

She left Ethan with just that – a cryptic clue to a fate unknown.

Who was it that he had to fight for if it wouldn't be her?

Ethan was once again thrust into a void of blackness before he could even move. In this midst of eternal shadows, his mind became host to another barrage of visions and voices. This had to be the fragment at work, he thought. It all felt the same. In his absent body, he could still detect the flow of an introduced energy through his veins. A fiery, blue glow of strange origins.

Origin's that he soon got to hear.

The sound of a distressed woman called out in the distance, "Sisters! We need to run!"

The chaos of swinging swords and a violent explosion hurtled through his center. Like a bullet through a body, these echoes phased across him, catching him in the sounds of their moment.

A gasping man, possibly weakened from a wound, could be heard next, "I knew this is…" He coughed, "…what you fawns would do."

An angry, yet scared, woman spoke back, "You attacked us!"

Ethan felt like his mind was jumping through centuries of people, skimming across the edges of the realms themselves. Something powerful was working within him, unlocking a view into the unobtainable.

The next thing he heard was the frantic shouting of a different woman, one from a later time, "You have brought a poison into this world!"

A wrathful woman responded to her, "Poison has existed in this world long before us, Lia!"

The call of screeching monsters and screaming people circled around him. While he could not see a thing, Ethan imagined that he was in a town besieged by these unknown, devilish creatures. The periods of noise lasted for only so long, but the oddest thing was the sound of fire and fighting from the skies. A brutal battle was underway, somewhere in the abyss.

What was happening? More importantly, where?

The circulation of particles inside his mind rebounded as if they were now imploding. Depictions of events that he was not present for came into play, showing Ethan another side of the world he had come from.

He watched as images of Bela and her sister, Cassandra, flashed past him. The blonde looked toward the brunette, inquiring about the flask that their mother had just shown them. Ethan wanted to rage right then and there, knowing that it contained his daughter's head, but Rose's words halted any success.

She was not dead, was she?

Bela spoke to Cassandra, "This ceremony she speaks of sounds so odd, doesn't it?"

"When were you ever one to question Mother?" Her sister turned her head with a raised brow.

"Never, but…" Bela could be seen hesitating to speak quickly. It was like she was unsure of herself. "It is an infant after all. A vessel to bring back Mother Miranda's daughter?"

"So?" Cassandra asked.

"It wouldn't have been my choice," the blonde said. "But…I don't know. Forget it. If Mother wants us to protect the flask, then so be it. She must know what is best."

Cassandra's snarky tone was the last part of that memory Ethan would hear, "It doesn't matter what your choice would have been, anyway…"

Everything faded away. That was when Ethan heard more voices from a life that he should've lived. A life that he was now absent from.

It was the sound of that lady in the bird mask, "You've fulfilled your purpose, Mr. Winters. You disposed of my false children and awakened the glorious Megamycete. Now, please do not worry for little Rose. I can assure you that I will provide her with true happiness."

Gunshots rang out, followed by the vicious groans of a tyrant losing the fight. While Ethan could not see what was happening, he sensed the outcome of the conflict in his heart. Miranda was losing, and he was saving his daughter.

"My daughter!" Miranda's sorrowful voice screamed in defeat. "My Eva!"

As soon as the prophet's voice cut out, Ethan saw another vision appear before him. In it, he watched as he stumbled up towards the crumbled mound of calcified mold, retrieving his unscathed daughter from the center of the rubble. The infant curled into his dirtied arms, happy to have her father back. This was the path that he would have been on, had he stayed in his world. Rose was still alive, after all. She was not dead, nor had Bela had anything to do with harming her.

Bela…

He was wrong about her. She had lied, yes, but not because she wished to conceal something she did. She could have told him about the truth and tried to support her lack of involvement from the start, but…he would have just lashed out at her anyway.

Something in his brain sounded off. It was like he held some sub-conscious control over what he was seeing. Rose's explanation of where he was now had only added more mystery to the situation, but not all situations were meant to be understood. She had spoken of other lives in other universes. Could it be that these were shared memories? Did this energy finally give him some of the answers he sought?

That was the only conclusion he could draw at this moment, and likely the only one he would ever reach.

Ethan screamed out, across the eternal world of darkness that he was now in, "Bela!"

There was no answer, nor would there be. He was in the void, riding through a plane of this unknown dimension. He wasn't sure what he was thinking by calling for her. It all just came out by pure instinct. His heart was in control. He knew that he needed to find her.

That was when he bore witness to something horrible.

Another array of visions spammed through, showing the grim story of a tearful Bela outside on her own. Each flash was only a second or two long, broken up into pieces that constructed the picture as they passed by. He saw her being approached by a strange man, then came the jab of a needle. The next thing he saw was her being dragged along the side of the road, then a shot of her waking up chained inside a cage.

The final scene – the only one that was complete – showed him the outside of the house in question. The dwelling was one that he remembered from their travels on those cobblestone streets during the brief period of daylight. It wasn't far at all. In fact, from where he was, Ethan could have arrived there in just ten minutes. Why had the visions shown him this?

Was it Bela trying to reach out to him?

Were there greater forces at play?

Or, was it all just by chance? Ethan would never know – because that was when he woke up.

.

With a sharp gasp, Ethan jolted up from his chair, nearly falling over as he stumbled around. Kyia, taken by the sudden noise, turned around with wide eyes. She watched as he breathed heavily and rapidly, collecting himself over the course of a few seconds. Concerned as ever, the brunette stood up from her seat and raised her hand up toward her jaw.

"Ethan, are you okay?"

"I…" His breathing needed to subside before he could speak any further. "I saw…Bela."

Kyia looked as perplexed as ever. "What do you mean you saw her?" She approached him cautiously, concerned that he was still hallucinating. "What happened to you, Ethan?"

"Voices," he answered. "I heard voices, and then I saw more visions. I think it was the metal fragment again."

The shard itself was still in his possession, which made her fear that he may have been cut with it a second time. "Show me that fragment," she demanded.

Ethan reached into his pocket, retrieving the sharp piece at once. As soon as he held it out to her, both of them could see that there was no blood on it to be found. He checked his pocket for any holes, but there were none. No pain. No signs of any injuries.

"I don't think it got me," he told her. Kyia pointed to the desk at once.

"Just leave it there," she said. "It was foolish to take it with you like that."

He wasn't in the mood to hear her remarks. With everything that had just transpired inside his head, the last thing he wanted to hear was more complaints. Something was brewing inside of him and he wasn't sure what. Just like in his dark world of the endless abyss, Ethan was running on nothing but pure, unfiltered instinct.

"Kyia, can you just relax?"

She would not calm down, "I'm just saying that we do not know the full extent of what it is capable of. To be carrying it in your pocket is a risk, Ethan! You should have grabbed a small box or –"

"Kyia, not now!"

She paused as soon as she heard him. Kyia's inner brows squinted, as if she was trying to discern what he had truly said. "Excuse me?"

"Look…" Ethan paced around with one hand at the back of his head, the other setting the metal fragment upon the captain's desk. "I don't know what is going on here, alright? I fell asleep and then I just saw a whole bunch of shit at once."

With her lip curled, Kyia's green eyes darted away toward the fragment itself, before they moved back to the man in front of her. "What did you see?"

"My daughter, Rose," he told her. "She was a teenager and she was alive!"

The brunette shook her head, discrediting what he had just informed her of, "You're stressed, Ethan, I get it." Her hands opened up with bent elbows at her side. Kyia gazed at the ground with the brief expression of a raised set of eyebrows and widened lids to boot. "You saw in your head something that you wanted to see. Maybe it is because of the metal, I do not know. But, you said you saw Bela's family tear your child apart, didn't you?"

He was quick to correct her, "They didn't tear her apart. Her mother and these other weirdos turned her into a crystal and broke her up into sections. That is what I saw."

She rolled her eyes at him. "And that sounds crazy, doesn't it? Just tell me how that is possible."

"What?" Ethan reared his head back at her. "I told you what I saw before, remember? You were helping me deal with it."

She nodded back, "And I'm glad you remember that."

Ethan would not give up, "Plus, you believed what I said when I first had these visions."

"You said her head was in a flask," she replied. "That sounds way more logical than…what you just described!"

Ethan grunted as he tried to move past that single detail, "You told me it was because of the metal. Why would this be any different? This isn't because I'm stressed, Kyia."

"Okay," she growled at him, growing frustrated by the way he was talking to her. "You need to take a breath and sit down. I cannot help you if you keep badgering me."

As annoyed as he had gotten with her, she sounded right. He would have to take her up on that advice if he was to make any progress right now. However, Ethan could not stand or sit still. His eagerness to uncover the truth kept his nerves tugging at his muscles. To him, something had to be done, and sitting around in this room wasn't going to accomplish that at all.

They had already stalled the next step too many times before.

"Please," he begged, "I just need to know if what I saw has any connection to what is going on now."

"As far as your daughter goes, I believe that isn't real," the brunette answered. "Unfortunately, she is dead, Ethan. You must accept that." A swift burst of air expelled from her nostrils as she looked away. "Anything else that you saw?"

Ethan brushed a hand across his face. "Bela. I saw Bela."

Kyia rolled her eyes again. "Oh, great."

"She was taken by some man," he described the scenes at play. "It looked like she had been carried away to a house not too far from here. Fuck, I can even remember walking past it at some point when she and I first got here. A tiny apartment or something. Does Perkel Street ring a bell to you?"

"Ethan, no." Kyia looked like she had had enough of all this nonsense. The slender brunette briskly walked up to him and placed her hand on his shoulder, directing him to the seat he had just stood from. "You need to relax and calm down."

"I swear that was the name of the street that the house was on. 106 Perkel Street!"

"And I don't care!" She tried to nudge him to sit down, but her thin arm would not cause him to budge.

"Why not?"

Kyia waved her arms around, bewildered as ever. "Why should I?" She directed those arms at him. "And why should you? She killed your child! Even if your newest visions are true, which they are not, her fate is her own."

He closed his eyes and backed away from her at that instant. She was not helping him at all. "No, no, no. Kyia, no. Look, I saw Bela after her mother brought in that flask with my kid's head. She had no part in it. She was just obeying her mother. I could see something in the way she looked after it was all over."

Still processing the distance that he had just put between the two of them, Kyia cast a frowning smirk his way, "Like that makes it any better?"

"It does!" He replied. "She's not a good person, or, she wasn't. I don't know."

"No," Kyia interrupted him, seizing the chance to do so after he contradicted himself. "You were right the first time. She isn't a good person. I do not know why you are so intent on challenging the truth, Ethan! Now, I will only say this one, last time: Sit down, for your own well-being, please!"

"No, Kyia. I can't!" Ethan stood his ground and looked her square in the eye. He wanted answers now, more than ever before. "I just have this grave feeling that I have made a big mistake and that something has happened to Bela along the way. She was in a cage, chained around the neck. I felt like I was in there with her, for a second. It couldn't have been a dream."

The brunette muttered to herself, though loudly, "Where she belongs, in my opinion."

Ethan was as shocked as ever to have heard her talk like that. "What the hell, Kyia? Why would you say that?"

"Why are we arguing all of a sudden?" She held out her palm. "I did not ask for this interaction, Ethan. Don't try to paint me as some bad person. All I have been doing since I met you is trying to help you. Forgive me for opening my heart up to you along the way, but do not chastise me for my thoughts on a woman who has taken so much from you!"

"Kyia, none of this is about what we talked about earlier." He wanted to set aside the problematic approach to the way she had confessed her feelings toward him. Kyia was still a great ally and he wanted to save her and bring her to a better world. Evidently, it seemed, she still held a sour outlook on the turnout. "And Bela may not have taken what I thought she took from me. I still need answers from her, but if she is in danger, I have to save her."

"Oh…" Her jaw opened wide with shock and sarcasm as she went to draw in air. "Now, you sound crazy. You're telling me that bloodthirsty wench isn't the heartless cannibal that she has played herself up as this whole time? Hmm? I know you seek closure, Ethan." Kyia placed her hand against her chest as she walked up to him. "So did I. When I lost my daughter, I still wished to speak to the man who killed her, thinking that he would give me every answer I needed. But, I never got those answers, and neither will you. You must learn to live with this."

"I can't just let Bela die." His eyes turned to his gun, which Kyia quickly noticed.

"Why do you insist on defending her, after all she has done?"

Ethan's head and eyes shook around as he tried to drum up a way to explain the way he felt inside. Every option sounded just as crazy as the other. Maybe she was right, he thought. Maybe he was going crazy. He knew so much right now, but didn't know anything at all. He'd have to go with his heart. It was the only thing that he had left to work with.

"Because I have seen a better part of her before," he explained. "Everything changed once we got to this place, especially toward the end. I don't think she's that person anymore and…" Ethan sighed at himself, knowing that what he was about to say contradicted everything he had once believed, "…I think she deserves a chance."

Like an angry mother, Kyia replied as sternly as possible, "No!"

"I'm not asking you to come with me," he said back.

She looked so offended. "Then what am I to do? Just stay here?"

"It's worked out before." Ethan wasted no time during this conversation. He walked over to the edge of the desk and retrieved his gun, cracking the action open to double-check that it would still operate without issue. "I'm not going to risk you getting killed while I do this."

She walked right up to him and set her hand upon his as he closed the gun back up. "You're talking about leaving me inside this building as you go out there, and all for her?!"

"I have to know, Kyia. I've seen too many people die."

"As have I," she stated, closing in on his face with her own. "But, why, Ethan? Why are you going to stick your neck out for a killer like her? Would you do the same for Vikcia?"

"She's not like Vikcia…"

"Hmm…" The brunette's eyes rolled as she smirked at him. "Flesh-eater. Psychopath. Aggressive monster. What else do those two have in common?"

"Enough, alright?" He broke away from her and made his way to the door. The frustrated groan of the slender lady was not too far behind him as he approached it.

"Why do you gravitate toward her?" Kyia begged to know. "What has she ever done for you?! She's been nothing but cruel to you and me. How can you just turn around and find compassion for a vicious animal like her? Remember what her family did to your infant girl?"

He could feel his anger rising, but he kept it down, "I think you're looking at this the wrong way."

She got closer. "No, you're the one who is looking at this the wrong way! Stop inviting pain into your life, Ethan. Why must you do that to yourself?"

The tone in his voice raised, "Can you just back away so I can go?"

Her green eyes pressed shut. Those white teeth bared between curled lips. Kyia's fingers tensed up as she brought both her hands to the sides of her head, leaning forward and turning away from him. She shouted frantically at the man next to her, "Do not scream at me!"

A whimpering grunt was all that remained after she spoke. Ethan didn't have time to reconcile. He knew that none of this was going to get better the longer he stuck around.

"I'll be back, Kyia. I promise." He opened the door that would lead to the only exit from this building, but before his body could pass through, the sleeve of his coat became insnared by the forceful grip of her thin hand.

"No!" Kyia held onto him with the most serious expression he had ever seen on her face. Her rounded eyes were on full display, hovering above the scowl of a broken heart. "You will stay here."

"Kyia, let go…"

She would not relent, "I will not allow you to make this mistake." With a quick swipe, Ethan tore his sleeve out from her hold, which left the brunette in utter shock as he did so. She expelled a sharp gasp, which simmered through her parted lips. Just as he began to move back, Kyia had one more thing to tell him, "Ethan, if you go through that door right now…"

"I don't get to decide who lives or dies, Kyia," Ethan took a breath, settling his firm stare back at her. "And neither do you. Stay here." He turned away immediately after, shutting the door behind himself as he did so. It would seal the room away from anything else that would seek to enter it and attack the woman inside.

Ethan wanted to be there to protect her. As he walked through that nearly pitch-black hallway in the dark, without a light to guide him, the man could only hope that she would stay safe while he went out to save Bela. Safety in a world like this would always be an uncertainty. The memories of the people that had come before would carry him forward, but pull him down, just the same.

Sheriff Anderson, back in Dulvey. Mia, in their home. Luiza and the others, all circled around him. Elena, clinging on to those boards over the fire.

He couldn't save any of them.

If he still had a chance to save Bela, then he would. Kyia could not come along for the ride, even if she wanted to. Too many others had taken the risk of the journeys he walked. This was something he'd have to undertake alone.

Setting his mind straight as he barreled ahead, Ethan's thoughts turned back to Kyia one last time before he entered the lobby. It had been a slow, steady walk down the hallway leading up to it, yet, his ears were drawn to the captain's room the whole time.

She had not made a single noise since he left.

NOTES:

A chaotic chapter, indeed. We're nearing the end, even though there are still about sixteen or so chapters left.

Bela's development in regard to her life at home has been a slow one, but she is beginning to see through the cracks of where she came from. This whole time, there has been a part of her that was beginning to see things a different way. Her path to redemption is far from over, and there is still much more for her to learn.

Turning to Ethan, I'm sure we're all in agreement that a ton of things went down for him in this chapter. I'm going to clear some of the confusion out of the way right now and admit that not everything is going to be explained in this story.

Those who have read Fragmented Flies may have noticed a few additional easter eggs or may understand the idea of what is happening a bit more, but that won't answer much. Even that story did not answer all of its questions and theories, which is the intent. These are all pieces to a larger puzzle, but the Daniela installment will tie the rest in.

Going to Rose, I wanted to have her appear to Ethan since the beginning. For those of you wondering, just like Luana, Rose is not someone who can travel freely between these realms. This was not the real Rose, but it may as well have been. With Fragmented Flies and Fears both being canon to each other, though in separate timelines, the events of the Shadows of Rose DLC would have transpired in the Flies timeline, given how Ethan's fate remains the same. So, somewhere, there is a Rose who has interacted with her father.

Now, concerning the realms themselves, they are not like the realm of consciousness contained within the Megamycete. Instead, these are all vast universes that all exist in the same place at once, separated by a great energy, which may or may not shake up time itself (something to remember). The lack of inherent powers of people like him, Bela, and Cassandra, is also another reflection as to how these things work.

Needless to say, the metal fragment is most certainly the cause of his visions.

Moving on to Kyia, we can see that she is not thrilled at all. Call it jealousy, or resentment, it doesn't really matter. The biggest focus is on what went down.

Does she have good intentions? Yes.

Does she care about Ethan? Of course.

But, despite her kindness, Kyia is like a shiny suit of armor – nobody knows how much it can withstand before it breaks. Evidently, she doesn't handle conflict well at all.

I'm not trying to make her the bad guy. Again, she has her reasons and they make sense to me, but she is not perfect, and this goes to show that Ethan doesn't know much about either of these women.

So, where do we go from here? Does Ethan just go and save Bela, kill Malcolm, and kiss her under the moonlight? Will these two fall for each other so quickly? I won't rush love, but I will say that we are nearing the end of this arc, and that is where this story's true horror emerges from. We'll soon be hitting the final arc of this tale of death and love, but before we get there, we must walk the bridge that leads to it.

It's going to be a harrowing, soul-crushing experience, and when it is all over, nothing will ever be the same again. The next release will not be a double, but a longer chapter than usual. Fair warning – it will not be kind.

You can expect to see it next Saturday.

On a much, much lighter note, I hope you all have a wonderful and happy New Year! If you're going out and celebrating, please stay safe out there! If you're staying inside, be safe as well, and have a great time! I hope the year ahead treats you all well. No matter what, always keep your head up when it's down. We all live different lives, but everyone should smile at the end of the day. I hope this year saw a lot of success for you all, and I hope the next year does so as well!

Thanks for the support that you have shown me! I look forward to the year ahead, for sure! Happy New Year! 😊