Karsten If
Chapter 5: Whale's Fog
"You don't have what it takes to be a soldier."
An old tale was read to him by his mother once he had turned sixteen. She wasn't the warmest of people, especially when it came to her husband's bastard son, the black sheep of the family, and her greatest disgrace.
The Od had made him so that she could learn humility.
She chose to learn her lesson with the attitude of a child.
So whenever he would misbehave or step out of line, she wouldn't abuse him or even give him punishments. No… A bastard wasn't worth the effort of employing such sadism in her eyes.
Instead… She gave him tales. As ridiculous as it sounds, his father's wife was no warm mother toward him, unless he had misbehaved and needed guidance.
It was the only time she had told him a tale of her own free will. Without needing an excuse because he broke a plate, behaved inappropriately towards one of their noble guests, or fought with one of his highborn brothers and sisters in the family whilst forgetting his place as a bastard.
The one time she walked into his room, and sat him down with a look in her eyes that screamed a sense of indignity and torture. She didn't want to be here. She didn't want to speak with him for no reason.
His turning into a man finally grown upon that day wasn't a good reason for his father's wife to do this. So he must've done something wrong, he thought.
There must've been a reason why this old tale, in particular, was important for him to hear the moment he could wield his sword with responsibility.
"The story goes on…"
After she had told him the old fairy tale that was taken from some of his father's old books, she hadn't left him alone to think about what he learned from the story. No, she stayed at his bedside, wishing to keep him company as he dealt with afterthoughts about the tale.
She didn't stay because he needed company or because she wanted to make this a special moment.
In a moment of realization, the bastard realized that his father's wife wasn't here for his company or to give him a memory he could rely on as he set foot into manhood. She was too proud a woman for that.
His mother needed a son to send as fulfillment for a debt his father had entailed from their liege lords at the Karsten Estate.
She chose the boy who was nothing but a reminder of her husband's inadequacy as a faithful man. The one thing inside of her home that had never been chosen by her with approval, from the couches to the servants serving them.
"…About a man who kept enacting the same task, over and over again."
The boy was laughed at sooner he arrived toward the preparation halls, he had armor that fit a boy of low nobility even if he was a bastard. He would soon start pacing around when he realized that most of the people around him were not entirely of noble birth like his trueborn brothers and sisters.
There were demihumans in the hall… Beasts and abominations were always cursed upon whenever his father or uncles would train him and tell tales of their deeds in the great war.
They were not his enemy, of course, but he stayed away nonetheless.
He was forced to spend time with more of the human side of the occupants in the hall, however. And by the Od's hand, he wished he didn't. If they were noble spawns, they were arrogant and dismissive toward him as soon they heard his house name. If they were oldened knights or veterans, they would show him compassion and give him wisdom on how to hold his weapon which made him feel uncomfortable and inadequate when he realized their warmth was haunted by memories he could not ask about.
He didn't like that which he couldn't understand.
His favorite part of the hall was the youth of the lowborn common folk. The adventurers and amateurs came because of a call for glory they wanted to heed, not because they were sold off to pay a family debt, unlike his elk.
They were welcoming of him… Excited to talk to a noble who wasn't looking down upon their low birth. He hadn't told anyone about his true place in his family. Merely giving out the name and location in which they serve the Karsten House.
He didn't know his father was that well-known a veteran.
Many of the young kids like him were looking for glory and respite from lives filled with discontent and hardships. These youth were people who had nothing to live for, nothing to give to the great dragon kingdom except for blood and sweat.
These were stupid people.
Young, dumb, hotblooded, and naive to the point of enacting sympathy from him the more they dragged on and on about how great this adventure would be.
He realized too late what the difference between him and most of the populace inside of the great hall was.
Once Lady Karsten finished her speech, giving them a sense of comradery and comfort, yet foretelling them of the dread that she wanted to erase from their hearts, he realized it was two differences rather than one between him and the others inside of this hall.
One, everyone sitting before Crusch Karsten was a volunteer she had called upon. People who have the chance to walk away and never look back at the sight of the gathered crowds in her estate.
Everyone was willing to fight for her, of their own free will. All of them. Except for him.
The bastard wasn't even given the same option due to his father's wife's wish that he would go as soon as possible without argument.
Secondly, with all the nonsense of meeting with people and connecting with sides of society he had only dreamed of meeting because of his sheltered life, he had forgotten what was the point of this gathering. He knew it was an expedition and that's why the Karsten matriarch needed to fill the numbers with everyone she could get her hands on.
But he didn't know exactly what the expedition was for. And it turned out, that was just his fault for not asking more clearly of the people around him.
Because everyone in this great hall cheered once Crusch Karsten announced the start of the expedition against the Great Calamity of Fog itself… The White Whale.
"... Over and over again, the stone would roll from the top of the hill to the flat lands at the bottom of it."
When they reached the Lifus Highway, it was deep into the night. His gaze was star-struck by the beauty of the Great Tree upon which the clouds couldn't even escape as it pierced through the heavens themselves.
He stepped away from any encampments by the mix of forces that joined the fight. This army formulated by different factions would sure to have a place for someone like him somewhere alongside their midst. But he reserved to walk and think about what was about to become his first official military battle.
His father always told him that he didn't want any of his sons to become soldiers in pointless wars. He'd always distilled that notion from him by constantly showcasing how weak he was as a boy.
"You don't have what it takes to be a soldier…"
He couldn't help but ignore the warmth in his heart when his father said this. When his father shows that he cares for him. That he acknowledges the walking signs of his infidelity was a boy merely grown in misfortune and mistake.
But he couldn't help but ignore that warmth and care his father gave him.
He couldn't stop the anger from boiling his blood at his inadequacy.
There must be a purpose for him in this world more than just his mother's tales coming from the old books or his father's heroic struggles against the beasts of the great war to protect the smallfolk…
More and more his father tried to dispel the notion that he would carry such a part of his family legacy that related to violence and yet he didn't listen. Growing more furious at himself for letting his father think that way. Think that he would be happy sitting in that mansion with the comfort of being ignored by his wife besides the occasional nod.
He hated that his father tried so hard to not show true love just to cease any anger within his wife's heart. The woman he betrayed would always make herself present whenever the bastard and her husband would converse. Like a haunting that remained upon his father's shoulder for as long as the boy and father come in contact, she's there, spawned and ready to glare.
That wasn't a life to live.
"…About a man who kept enacting the same task, over and over again."
That wasn't the life he wanted to live.
Once he reached the root of the colossal tree that pierced the skies and reached the Od of the world, he was met with a particular sight that got him curious.
Crusch Karsten, a lady as refined in her armor as she was beautiful had been conversing with a man a little older than him. She had a wide grin on her face and the young man looked flustered as he ran after her.
He couldn't help but stop to hear what they were saying, as the scandal of the atmosphere didn't go over his head.
"Your words, Natsuki, not mine~"
The nasty-eyed man had a distinct redness on his cheeks that forced a chuckle out of the usually steely and composed Duchess Crusch.
"I-It could help if you stopped trying to tease your best hope of fighting this thing!" Natsuki Subaru stammered, trying to maintain his dignity as he walked alongside the elegant candidate. His face, flushed with embarrassment, contorted into a begrudging frown.
Crusch's eyes sparkled with mischief as she replied, "Best hope? Your clumsy attempts at swordplay with Wilhelm-dono entertained me for less than five seconds. Know your worth, Natsuki Subaru, before trying to deflect that redness on your face." Her sideways grin only deepened the sense of enjoyment she derived from teasing him.
Subaru's aghast reaction made the onlooker silently agree with Crusch's assessment, his eyes followed the odd pair.
Natsuki's eyes, filled with mocking hurt, met hers, "How could you say that… I was trying to mend my broken pride after what happened to me… I thought you were offering your home as a safe space."
Crusch's expression softened only slightly, her voice maintaining a teasing edge. "Emilia-sama suggested we babysit you. And I don't think your pride is a stranger to being hurt." She blinked at him, her eyes reflecting both amusement and a hint of sympathy.
Subaru, fingers interlocked behind his head, sighed deeply as they continued their walk. "It doesn't change the fact that I have been assaulted, by a knight no less!" His tone was both defensive and wounded.
"You were beaten in a duel, Subaru. Wisdom lies in learning from your failures." Crusch's voice carried the weight of experience, tempered with the lightness of jest.
Subaru's expression shifted from frustration to a rueful smile. "You're right, Crusch-sama… I should throw dirt in his eye next time."
Crusch chuckled again, a genuine sound of amusement. Her eyes twinkled with entertainment as she continued to walk alongside him towards the gathering troops. The sight of the two of them was not one that the bastard expected to find when he walked near the tree, yet he couldn't help but smile at the two.
The last thing he heard was them talking about strategy… Why was a guy like that so close with the candidate to the point she would clue him in on the battle plans?
The bastard moved away not before hearing that Natsuki Subaru speak in a hesitant voice.
"Um… I don't think we should attack the Whale like that… How about—"
The next thing the young bastard noticed was that orders began flowing from the central battalion. Resting soldiers within their encampments shifted positions in response to the wishes of the Karsten House heir.
He wasn't a military boy and had no real experience in life, let alone strategy. Yet, he observed that the changes to their formations were becoming more honed, more specific to particular tactical ideas than before. The initial army assembled for the expedition was a ragtag group of volunteers, many of them young and weak. The more seasoned fighters flanked the sides alongside beastmen and demihuman teams. Behind everyone stood the mages, unfortunate enough to be positioned next to grand weapons he had never seen before.
The issue with this formation was its simplicity. They were like a row of bottles, just waiting for a large rock to come and scatter them.
However, after that conversation he had overheard between Crusch Karsten and Natsuki Subaru, the formations changed completely.
The young bastard couldn't comprehend what was going through Crusch's mind. Why was she listening to someone she had just thoroughly teased? It worried him, the influence that Natsuki Subaru seemed to wield over her, prompting such changes without hesitation.
By the time he found his position among the young core of youthful fighters, Crusch Karsten had resumed her place at the head of the army. Her stern, regal demeanor was now accompanied by a proud grin as she surveyed the improved formations. She raised a fist into the air, signaling the army with fierce determination.
Everyone around the bastard held their breath, a collective effort to steel themselves for the impending battle. The air was thick with anticipation and the tension drowned his lungs.
It was time.
All eyes turned upward, scanning the skies as they awaited the enemy's approach. The young bastard felt his heart pounding in his chest, a mix of fear and excitement coursing through him.
Subaru Natsuki, the nasty-haired boy in some of the weirdest apparel the bastard could remember seeing all throughout his lifetime, held a small trinket that blew a sound across the plains. From the front where Subaru was, to the very end, where the bastard was, everyone could hear the melody playing from the boy's weird object.
The bastard was too focused on hearing the melody and steeling his hand on his sword handle to notice that eyes from soldiers near him began roaming upwards towards the moon.
"WHALE!"
The battle had started before he could even retake another breath.
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"FIGHT ONWARD!"
"IT'S COMING DOWN!"
From his vantage point, the young bastard watched with growing admiration as the army, now imbued with a newfound confidence, executed a series of tactics against the White Whale in the sky.
The new formation allowed for a series of well-orchestrated tactics that began to show their effects. The battalion's center had been fortified with a protective ring of mages, their grand weapons now systematically coordinated to unleash powerful spells in unison. The coordination between the mages was precise, but it wasn't to hit the Whale in its hide. That idea had stopped being the case after the first attack was left as a useless amber.
The Whale had to deal with clouds of fire that were created from the midst of fighters by the mages.
With each fire cloud it passed through, it would dive in to attack the source of the mana attack only to be repelled by the experienced old knights and veterans who surrounded the magic users throwing those clouds in its snout.
On the flanks, the beastmen and demihuman teams had been repositioned to form a dynamic offensive line. They darted in and out, exploiting the whale's weak spots with relentless ferocity. Their movements were synchronized, each strike calculated to create openings for their comrades to exploit. They seemed to dance around the colossal beast.
The young volunteers, his battlement which was once deemed the weakest, now formed a well-organized secondary line of attack. Their new formation allowed them to function as a flexible reserve, ready to reinforce gaps in the front line or take advantage of any openings that appeared. Their morale was high, their movements more assured as they followed the new tactical directives.
Crusch, from her commanding position, used slices and large arcs of wind magic that impressed any sword user who could notice the attack within the infernos of fire and sunlight canons that filled the skies to blind the White Whale and force it downwards.
Even that man, Subaru, despite his uselessness, was now a focal point of the strategy. The bastard noticed the Whale directly following the nasty-eyed man with such diligence due to some odd reason that neither he or the soldiers cared to understand.
The results were evident. The White Whale's massive bulk was being battered by coordinated assaults from all directions.
The young bastard marveled at the sight. The once-disorganized army had been transformed into a disciplined and effective fighting force against a calamity of legend. Each tactic, each formation shift, and each precise attack contributed to a growing sense of optimism.
The young bastard's sense of triumph began to crumble as a blood-curdling scream pierced the air. He turned to see a soldier pointing toward the horizon, his face contorted in terror. "The fog! The White Whale's fog is filling the Lifus plain fields!"
Panic rippled through the ranks like a shockwave. The once-coordinated army devolved into chaos as the thick, suffocating mist rolled in, swallowing the landscape in a blanket of white. Soldiers stumbled, disoriented, their confident strides turning into frantic, aimless running.
The young bastard's heart pounded in his chest as he darted from one soldier to the next, their screams echoing in his ears. He saw faces twisted in pain, eyes wide with fear, hands grasping at nothing as they tried to fend off invisible threats. The fog crept into their lungs, its chill seeping into their bones, paralyzing them with its icy grip.
One soldier fell to his knees, clutching his throat, gasping for air. Another thrashed wildly, his sword swinging at phantoms as he screamed for his comrades. The young bastard tried to help, but every direction he turned revealed more horror. He saw a mage crumple to the ground, holding her head as if she was suffering an unbeatable headache. Beastmen and demihumans, who had fought so valiantly moments before, were now reduced to trembling wrecks, their primal instincts were overwhelmed to tremble as they began losing their number due to the fog.
Desperation clawed at the young bastard's mind. His breath came in ragged gasps as he stumbled through the blinding mist, searching for any semblance of order, of hope. He found Crusch, her commanding presence was dwarfed by the chaos around her. She shouted orders, but her voice was lost when most of the battalions were left rolling on the ground, clawing their faces until they drew blood due to the mind effect of the Whale's fog.
Fear tightened its grip on him, threatening to choke the resolve from his heart. He tried to remember his father, to draw strength from his memory. His father had always been a pillar of strength, a beacon of courage in the darkest times. The young bastard closed his eyes, trying to summon his father's calm voice, his reassuring presence.
"Stand firm, son. Fear is the enemy's greatest weapon. Remember who you are and what you fight for."
"You don't have what it takes… Son…"
"He rolled that stone up the hill, thinking it would lead to a different result should he do it smiling this time…"
The words brought a flicker of hope, a momentary respite from the all-consuming panic. But as he opened his eyes, the reality of the situation crashed over him once more.
He saw Subaru, his face twisted in a mix of determination and fear, trying to rally the soldiers, his voice straining against the overwhelming dread was surely filled with.
But it was too late. The fog was everywhere, an impenetrable shroud that turned hope into despair. The young bastard felt the cold tendrils of the mist reaching for him, seeping into his skin, whispering of doom. He stumbled backward, falling to the ground, his hands grasping at the damp earth as if it could anchor him to reality.
Around him, the army lost its head. Soldiers ran in all directions, some colliding with each other, others disappearing into the fog's depths. The sound of clashing weapons and desperate cries filled the air, a dance of chaos that drowned out any semblance of order that Crusch's formation had created.
The young bastard's heart raced, his body trembling with fear. His father's memory felt distant now as he echoed the words alongside moments where his father and mother expressed just how worthless he was to them. He struggled to his feet, his mind a whirlwind of confusion and dread. He had no direction, no plan, only the primal urge to survive.
But suddenly…
He had to watch in stunned silence as Subaru broke ranks, his silhouette disappearing into the thickening fog, determined to draw the White Whale's attention away from the faltering army.
The boy could only come to his senses of what Subaru was doing before someone seized the opportunity. Crusch raised her voice above the heads of the crying men and women. "Look at that man! Look how weak and scared he is! I have seen his defeat first hand and witnessed it happen upon the most shameful grounds that a fighter could choose… Yet even through his weakness, he has the strength to not only stand alone against the thing you fear most but sacrifice himself to save your lives! Will you lay with your tears falling as the weakest amongst you fights on?!"
The soldiers around the bastard, galvanized by Crusch's words, turned their eyes toward Subaru. He moved with surprising agility, dodging the encroaching fog attacks, his black ground dragon was racing beneath him with speeds that were far more impressive to him than many who were used to ground dragons. The bastard watched, breath held, as Subaru narrowly escaped each deadly swoop of the White Whale's maw, its immense form diving with jaws agape, aiming to swallow him whole.
Determination etched on her face, Crusch unsheathed her sword, its blade gleaming in the eerie light. "We must help him!" She rallied her troops, the fire of her spirit igniting a renewed sense of purpose among them.
*CRUNCH! *
But then, a scream pierced the air. The bastard turned just in time to see a mercenary, standing close to Crusch, yanked into the sky. The man's terrified cries were cut short as a second White Whale materialized from the fog above them, its jaws snapping shut with a sickening crunch, reducing the mercenary to a mere stain on its monstrous teeth.
Panic rippled through the ranks as the reality of their situation hit home. The soldiers, who moments ago were ready to follow Crusch into battle, now scattered in all directions, their fear overwhelming their sense of duty. The bastard's eyes widened in horror as yet another White Whale emerged from the mist, gliding beside the second, its eyes gleaming with a malevolent intelligence above them all.
"You don't have what it takes…"
"He found that the stone ended up descending faster back to its original spot at the bottom of the hill just because he tried something different."
Crusch stood alone, her blade still raised, defiant against the encroaching doom. The young bastard felt his heart sink as he realized the true extent of their plight.
Their strategy, their new formations – they had been too effective. They had harmed and angered the White Whale so significantly that it had summoned reinforcements. It felt threatened, and in its desperation, it had called for backup.
The young bastard's legs felt like lead as he struggled to move, to do something, anything to help. He cast a desperate look at Crusch, standing tall and resolute, even as the second and third whales circled like vultures.
"Crusch-sama!" he shouted, his voice barely audible above the screaming and shouting from the others. But Crusch didn't turn. She faced the beasts with unflinching resolve, her grip tightening on her sword.
The bastard's thoughts raced back to his father, to the lessons of courage and honor that now felt so distant. He tried to summon that strength, to find a way to stand and fight instead of succumbing to the terror that threatened to overwhelm him.
As the whales closed in, he realized the true cost of their defiance. The battlefield had transformed into a nightmare. His father's words echoed less in his mind now, his senses drowned everything that surrounded him.
Soon, the first soldier started to flee with his weapon thrown on the ground due to not wanting added weight to hinder his flight. Then the second followed him.
Just about the entirety of the army who were moments ago fighting for glory had run deep within the fog as Crusch Karsten gained the attention of the two new Whales with her defiance and wind attacks.
"Cowards…" The disdain in her voice was critical, and the young bastard could see her disappointment etched across her features as she clicked her teeth in frustration.
At that moment, their eyes met, and he felt a jolt of awareness. Out of all the soldiers, he was the only one who had remained, frozen in shock as his comrades abandoned their posts and fled.
Crusch's gaze softened slightly, her disappointment shifting into something more akin to sympathy as she looked down at him. "Why would a boy as green as you are stay? Do you seek glory this early into your life, boy?" Her voice was calm, yet laced with an underlying current of disapproval. There was no anger in her tone, only an acceptance of the harsh conditions of the battle unfolding around them.
The young bastard trembled as he gathered his thoughts, stammering out his response. "My family… they sent me here because of a debt to your house." The words felt heavy in his mouth but he said them with a bit of resentment towards the entire idea of his lineage and how subservience to this woman's house had led him here.
Crusch turned away from him, her focus shifting back to the looming threat of the Whales above. "Your debt is forgiven. Run with the others. Let me fight alone." Her voice was steady, almost detached as if she had already accepted her fate.
A storm of emotions surged within the young bastard—anger, confusion, and an overwhelming sense of despair. How could she simply dismiss him, the debt that had brought him here, without anything for him to show for it? She hadn't used him like she should've yet. Her calm acceptance of the inevitable churned in his gut.
"Crusch-sama!" he shouted, desperation creeping into his voice. "You can't fight them alone! They'll—"
"Enough!" Her voice cut through his protests, firm and unyielding. "It is already too late. I command you as your liege lord to defect. I will not let the ghost of a child haunt my nightmares should I survive this."
A flicker of defiance sparked within him, but it was quickly extinguished by the harsh reality of their situation. Crusch was right. There were three whales above them and the entire army was dispersed across the flat plains within the fog clouds…
"You never had it in you."
"He never stopped rolling because he never stopped thinking that he was special. That he was different from what others believed him to be."
In that moment of contemplation, the anger within him began to morph into something else—resignation…
"You don't have what it takes to be a soldier."
As he plunged into the fog, he heard Subaru's voice ringing out across the plains from behind him.
"Crusch, Jump on Patrasche, NOW! SHAMAC!"
The bastard had tears in his eyes as the cloud of black consumed the area Crusch was standing in, battling the white of the Whale's fog in a dance that would've been beautiful to witness had he not turned to run again soon as he noticed one of the Whales gunning after him.
"No… Please…" He couldn't but beg as his chest burned with guilt and rage. "Please let me live…" He ran as fast as his small feet could go. "I don't wanna die…"
He was a boy merely turned man a few nights ago. How could his father's wife even judge him for running away? How would his father react if he realized that she used his absence to get rid of his bastard behind his back?
Would he be welcomed by any of them knowing that he helped lead such a catastrophe upon the Karsten Household?
"I don't wanna die… I don't wanna die…"
He sobbed and ran across the plains, through the fog.
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Had you given up at that moment like all the others… You wouldn't have had to send more children to their deaths… Leo would still be alive… Felix would still be alive…
"How slothful! Sloooothful! slothful! slothful! Slothful you are!" Petelgeuse's voice grated against her ears. His body contorts unnaturally as the hands throw away every limb they have torn from Felix's corpse, finally snuffing his life away after he'd regenerated for the third time.
Can you see him laughing over you and the corpses that came to be because of you?
Crusch's eyes fluttered open as Petelgeuse cupped her face with one bloodstained hand. He lifted her head, forcing her to meet his gaze. The distance between them was agonizingly small, his breath hot against her skin.
"Tell me…" His voice, usually a twisted mix of manic cheerfulness, was unexpectedly calm. "Do you feel your… brain speaking to you? Admonishing you?" He tilted his head, his eyes boring into hers with an unsettling intensity. "Hateful is the madness of murderers like you…"
One that leads others to their deaths because of her selfish dreams and personal inadequacies.
"Why…" Her voice was a mere whisper, strained and broken. "Why have you… Not killed me yet?"
Petelgeuse's gaze remained fixed on her, his expression devoid of emotion. He stared at her with eyes that seemed more dead than alive, a hollow emptiness that chilled her to the bone. There was no glee, no hatred, just an unsettling void.
How could he end what's a perfect image of him in another form? What's the difference between the beast and the helper who brings others to the beast's mouth for consumption?
Crusch's pride shattered in that moment. Her armored glove moved with trembling slowness to touch the hand that held her face. The steel of her gauntlet brushed against his skin, her fingers curling around his wrist. She looked up at him, her eyes filled with a desperate plea.
"End it," she begged, her voice cracking. "Please… end it."
Petelgeuse continued to stare, his eyes unfathomable. For a long, agonizing moment, silence hung between them. The forest seemed to hold its breath, the carnage and chaos suspended in an eerie stillness.
Finally, Petelgeuse's grip tightened, and his other invisible hands surged forward. Crusch closed her eyes, a final tear slipping down her cheek. She embraced the darkness that came, the last remnants of her consciousness consumed by the peace of oblivion.
"Pitiful." The archbishop's voice was uncharacteristically sympathetic towards her when he whispered. She couldn't help the shame that filled her as she awaited the pain to surge.
"GO ON, PATRASCHE, FAAAAAAAAAST!"
Crusch's eyes snapped open, her heart lurching in her chest. The feeling of Petelgeuse's hand vanished as he was forced to let go of her. She saw the archbishop fly into a tree with dashing speed, all because of the impact of a ground dragon crashing into him.
She glanced at the rider of said ground dragon and found Subaru, tied uncomfortably to the black beast beneath him with ropes.
He had crashed his dragon into the archbishop on purpose.
"Subaru…" Crusch whispered, her voice trembling with a mix of disbelief and relief.
Subaru glanced at her, his body still imprisoned by the ropes. Despite his precarious position, he managed to give her a gentle smile. "Hey, Crusch-sama… Sorry, I know I'm late but… Please help me outta these binds, Rem made them too tight."
Crusch's hands didn't move. She stared at the boy's strained smile and tired face for a moment longer than she believed was appropriate.
Watch as he dies because of you like the others behind him.
Her spirit forced her to move as fast as her battered legs could carry her to disallow that notion from becoming a reality.
AN: A little bit of a small one I wrote on my phone while on a run. Let me know what you thought about the experiment I made here, would you? As I said before, this will lead to happiness but I needed Subaru to get in touch with broken Crusch before ending anything regarding this arc. Hope you enjoyed it.