A Midsummer Night's Dream

"NO!" Nunnally screamed at the monitor, a desperate and futile cry out for what she knew was coming to not take place. She didn't know it with any fact, but she felt it in her bones, in every fiber of her being, that the attack against Euphemia was only going to create a bigger problem.

It was horrifying to see the damage being done to her country. The solace of knowing that such terrible weapons were being detonated on her country again was tempered by the fact that at least none of her people were being swept into the maelstrom.

"With this, perhaps we can say that the threat from Euphemia has passed," Schneizel remarked in an almost whisper, the drone footage they were watching live reduced to static, only intermittent images of the massive new crater coming through every now and then.

"No, it's not," Nunnally said, seeming to be trembling a bit as if she were cold.

Sara didn't know what to say or do. She'd felt on pins and needles the whole time anyway, being in this room aboard the Avalon II. When she was asked to accompany the empress aboard this flight, she had thought that it would be as a passenger that Nunnally might on occasion send someone to fetch so she could answer a few questions. Instead, she was seated in a cabin with just Empress Nunnally, Prince Schneizel, and the empress's attendant, Angela. It was such an awkward yet joyful experience for her, being with the Empress, hearing her speak so casually with those around her. The question of if this was the "real" Nunnally, or just the façade she put on with a relatively unknown person in her midst, had slipped away for how genuine it seemed. It was a different Nunnally from the one seen in public, for sure. She seemed so relaxed, even… happy? No, that wasn't quite it. It was perhaps contentment? The comfort of not being in the spotlight despite still making those decisions. She'd met folks like that in her career – the sorts that didn't relish the spotlight even if they were seemingly born for it.

Sara wished she could have just snapped away a million pictures – not to post in some news article or the like, just for her own memories and enjoyment. But she didn't dare ask that or take leave of her senses and do so on the spur of the moment.

This outburst from the empress too seemed very natural, unscripted. For that reason it made Sara's heart ache all the more. She hated seeing Nunnally so distraught, and wished there was something, anything, she could say or do to help Nunnally.

But part of her mind couldn't set aside the instincts she'd honed as a reporter and investigator. She suddenly started to wonder if the FSS attack was part of China's plan. Had the FSS coordinated it all with China? Or had China maybe caught wind of the FSS project to build this new weapon and used the opportunity to launch its plan? No… that didn't make sense. While China may not have been acting normally these last several days, there was no indication their relationship with Britannia was poor. That was the reason this move by China was so shocking to begin with. That made it highly unlikely that China was privy to any Soviet weapons program and hadn't shared what they knew with Britannia. Not impossible, obviously, but not likely, Sara reasoned.

There was also the question of benefit. How would this benefit such a partnership? What does the FSS gain? If China was going to claim part of Britannia, were they going to offer up a piece to the FSS? No, that didn't quite jive with any logic either. Why would the FSS want any help from China for something like that? They had the weapons, and they certainly could muster enough military strength behind a deployment of such weapons, that they wouldn't need China to orchestrate such a ruse. The fact that there was no sign of the Chinese ships further made this all the more bizarre. It was like there was a blind spot…

That's when it hit her. There was a blind spot. Everyone's attention, everyone's focus, was on the seas of the Pacific looking for a "lost" Chinese fleet that was supposedly aiming to take over Britannia. It never made sense. Beyond the question of their choosing to deceive and target one of their greatest allies, one small fleet was not going to take or hold much if any land if faced by Britannia's military pushing back, let alone the might of the combined forces of the UFN. It made their only chance at success being that Euphemia would choose to take the mantle as their ruler and fight in their stead, which itself didn't make sense given her unchecked ability to do as she pleased all over Britannia to begin with. Why would she bother allying with China when she could just take the Britannian throne all by herself? Plus, nothing of what she heard in the Institute suggested that Euphemia was working with China for anything.

The only way any of it made sense was if Euphemia herself was not involved, and China's actions had itself been a ruse from the start. They never really surrendered to Euphemia, and they never had plans for Britannia. At least, this wasn't the Britannia in their thoughts.

But Sara didn't have any proof. It was all deduction. Normally this would be the part where she would have to run off and try to find the evidence to back up that deduction before she could publish a story. It wasn't as if she could just say, "hey Empress, I have a theory. Mind redirecting some surveillance to this part of the globe real quick, where I think we might chance upon something neat?"

It was hardly a moment later that there was the declaration from Marrybell. That set Sara's mind firm. It was brilliant, she thought. More so because she wasn't sure how much was coordination, and how much was prognostication. She was definitely sure of it now – China had made a bluff based on some information, and that bluff gambled that there was a move to be made to boxout Marrybell. It was a shrewd plan, if it was true. But she wasn't sure of a few finer points. Those were sure to come in due time, she thought; there was no choice but for that hand to be played.

And Nunnally's reaction had sealed that thought too for Sara. The moment that warhead had been fired, Nunnally knew for certain what it meant, had pieced together most of the plot. But it didn't seem like Nunnally knew the whole picture. There were still some parts that eluded the empress. Had they eluded Prince Schneizel too? And what of the others like Kallen Kouzuki? She'd seen Kallen and the green-haired woman depart for the Texas facility. They seemed really dependable.

But Sara felt an apprehension, almost fear, being around C.C. It was a feeling a little bit more subdued than the one she got from Euphemia in that harrowing episode, but Sara liked the idea of someone with that sort of abrasive feeling being on Nunnally's side. As they say, fight fire with fire. If that C.C. woman was of some similar ilk to Euphemia, then better to have her on their side than not.

There was the voice of Angela interrupting Sara's thoughts, "I'm being told that Lord Zero has handed battlefield control over to Ms. Malcal and has boarded the Lancelot. He apparently intends to rendezvous with us in route to Pendragon. Battlefield command reports that they spotted dragons on radar moving west towards the operations area. It seems they appeared on radar quite suddenly."

"Were they nesting somewhere?" Nunnally mused aloud.

"Yes, I agree that would make sense. It would explain how they evaded and then appeared on radar so quickly, here and in prior engagements," Schneizel agreed. "We have a team working on a new thermal imaging system, correct? Perhaps this incident could help them to complete their system."

" He's so calm and rational even now," Sara thought. " These two would work well together if the world was more forgiving. But it's obvious his low profile the last several years has been precisely to avoid placing a shadow on Nunnally's rule. Still, I wonder how much he really knows about China's real plan? I can't think of a better person, if I was China, to coordinate a plot through. He would definitely know everything going on in Britannia, and has full access to its intelligence so knows a lot about what's going on in other nations.

"So would Kallen Kouzuki. She'd be less suspected due to her position and history, but she also knows China a lot better than anyone else in Britannia due to her time there with the Black Knights while they were in exile. She has better personal connections with the upper echelons than the prince, as off as that might be, so it's more likely they'd work with her than him. It'd be a lot easier to cover any communications with China under the guise of official business, being the Empress's knight. Her communications aren't subject to the same recording and disclosure rules the civil authority passed.

"Or maybe C.C.? My impression of that woman is that she's a bit flighty, so I could see her abandoning any connections she has now for ones she deems more beneficial to her in the future. If she's really been here and witnessed all of the trouble Britannia's had containing Euphemia, perhaps she decided to jump ship and side with another nation that she thinks will have more success? She may even be helping Euphemia or Marrybell.

"Ugh, I'm getting off track here. This whole thing has been a plot by China. Empress Tianzi's real target isn't California. She just made it seem that way to lure the world there, and draw out the FSS. China likely knew, or I guess heavily suspected, that the FSS had this new weapon and were liable to use it if given the chance. But I still don't get the goal. What is China, what's Empress Tianzi, hoping to accomplish with all this?"

The rain was starting to beat down in California. The blast of the warheads and then the large energy blast, had momentarily blown away some of the clouds, but it wasn't an enduring enough measure to render the storm dead. The beads of rain didn't seem to bother Marrybell at all as she stood near the bow of the ship as it made its approach to the coastline of California. Half an hour or so had gone by since her declaration she would take Britannia. The journey this close to the coast took some time thanks to the rough seas the storm was creating, but she wasn't in any particular rush. No, she wanted to savor this.

Of course, however, there was no port to be found here at this section of the coast. She knew that, obviously. She had no plans for these three ships of hers to dock here right now anyway. Thanks to the FSS weapon, and the energy blast out the crater, she could probably blast out an inlet and flood that new crater, making a little cove. Given enough time, mother nature would probably wear away enough rock to do the same.

Once close enough to the coast, Marrybell had her ships drop anchor and await further orders. She bounded from the ship's deck in a massive leap. The force of the push-off sent the bow of the ship bobbing enough you would have feared it would capsize nose first. It was a truly careless and childish act, as she seemed too exuberant about her forthcoming conquest, not so much the safety or well-being of her subjects.

There was a pungent odor to the air, a different kind of burning smell than the one she was accustomed to from her dragon's handiwork. It was a more metallic scent, burning iron and steel, less of flesh or organic materials. Mixed with the ocean's saltiness, it was an unusual cacophony of odors.

She casually strolled towards a ridgeline, the upheaved edge of the massive crater created by the FSS weapon. It was a deep chasm, easily a tremendous overkill if you were only looking to raze the structure that was once there, let alone kill one person. But the target wasn't merely one "person" so the consideration of that made the breadth of damage more palatable to consider. It was somewhat sobering for Marrybell, however. She had never seen up close the damage the FLEIJA caused, despite her stint as overseer of that arsenal aboard the Damocles. For certain she'd seen plenty of battle. Her record not as sterling as her sister Cornelia's, but Marrybell wasn't a dainty flower of a princess either, so the horrors of war were not a foreign concept to her. It was, in part, what allowed her to set Cartagena and Londonium to the flame so wantonly.

But, it wasn't as though they didn't deserve it.

While Viceroy of Area 24, Cartagena liked to play along with the idea that it was just another Britannia Area, obediently following the edicts of its master and doing its utmost to support the princess who oversaw them. She had known, however, that the city was giving comfort and aide to terrorists and anti-Britannia elements. She just couldn't nail down any solid proof. It wasn't until Lelouch's ascension that she gleamed the full picture.

"What was I thinking," she remarked aloud, a disgruntled look on her face.

She'd asked herself that a number of times since Euphemia brought her back. All that hard work, all that effort, and what was it all for? Her entire life was a sham, and her death was a sham. Would Lelouch see it that way too?

"We shared everything but a bed, and even that I might have entertained had we more time," she once waxed as she downed one of several bottles of wine that evening a few years ago, not long after her return. "Our affection for this world is a midsummer night's dream – a fantastical farce imagined that this world has any joy or meaning or affection it can return to us by our choosing to devote ourselves to it, sacrifice our desires or passions for it. It's miserable to think that we've done so much and our efforts from start to finish were meaningless because someone else figured out how to play this game before we did."

"Is that all it was for you? A game?" Oldrin asked. Marrybell sighed and nuzzled Oldrin's neck.

"I thought my mother and little sister were killed by terrorists who hated my family and country. I blamed my father for not having done more to protect us, to have let things get to that point. He responded to a distraught child less than ten-years-old with cold indifference to her pain, stripped her of her last remaining ties to her family, and banished her. I fought back against all of that, to reclaim my place in my putrid family, and did so by showing no mercy to the filthy scum who thought their pain was greater than mine and therefore that they had a right to take the lives of innocents.

"I manage to return to my family, to have my efforts acknowledged. And what do I get for that afterwards? If one sibling isn't plainly indifferent to my presence, another outright loathes me, or another sees me as a convenient pawn to push around their own chessboard. I'm mockingly called the Hero Princess by my family, while the public regards me as Massacre Princess. And as if to throw salt on the wound, I learn that it was all a fruitless exercise, since it was no terrorist who killed my mother and sister, but my own uncle, whose infernal powers of immortality let him act as a living bomb, all because he was jealous his brother was finding more joy in the company of women than remaining a child playing with him. That my father knew this and instead of doing anything at all to help guide me, just rewrote my memories and left me to indulge in such a wretched and pointless pursuit for over a decade of my life, is about as contemptable an offense as a parent could make, I would think, less he himself killed me.

"Then Lelouch and I sacrifice ourselves to mend this broken world. I didn't want to die, but I thought I could atone for the wrongs I committed, even if unwittingly in the pursuit of some greater good, by going along with Lelouch's plans. I was at peace when your brother stabbed me, believing one last time that I had found and served a purpose in this world that aligned with its expectations of me.

"And then my dear fellow Massacre Princess sister brings me back from the dead to show me how even that last act of my life was meaningless. The world hadn't changed, and I was still reviled.

"So, I ask again, what was the point? What was I thinking in giving away so much of myself for something so fleeting and ultimately pointless? It seems now like a half-remembered nonsense dream about achieving some world better than this rotten cesspool. And it would seem Euphemia still blithely dances across the surface of that dream.

"But I prefer now the comfort of this bed. And if tomorrow I should feel inclined to, perhaps I will enjoy the comfort of another bed. And should the day after that Lelouch appear before me and we lose ourselves to joy and solace and madness and all other passions, then perhaps I would enjoy the comfort of a bed shared with him too. And when roused to in the afterglow of a beautiful sun setting on the horizon, I may ask Lelouch if he thought his effort and sacrifice worth the results."

She sighed again, resting her head on Oldrin's chest, adding, "Isn't it far more pleasurable to simply follow one's instincts and do as you please? What has restraint brought us? While others make merry and enjoy their lives to the fullest, we who should most be empowered to do so are the least able for some stale sense of noblesse oblige. As if my so-called noble birth was any more my choosing than some street urchin's being born into squalor. Should my desire to be happy automatically make me a villain just because my family has wealth and power? I did what I did to protect my family and my country. Do terrorists get a pass for the same just because they started out with a worse lot in life than I did? What wrong had my mother and little sister committed to deserve death? How many children did my actions save from being blown up or gunned down just because they happened to be born to Britannia rather than some other nation? Were those children to blame for not leaving their families behind and running to some unknown place with no one to help and support them?

"If that is the case, then what difference does it make what actions I take in response? If they can do as they please to right some wrong from someone who may ultimately be unaffected by their actions, then why should I be wrong for doing in kind when their actions directly effect me and those I care for?"

"If you're asking that I absolve you of what you've done, I won't," Oldrin replied. "My princess died long before you fell from the Damocles. I see you as merely her phantom – a twisted remnant of who she used to be, and it breaks my heart."

"Oh, Oldrin. Perhaps I will find another bed tomorrow. This one, despite how beautiful it is, and how much it tempts me just at its sight, it is far from the most comforting."

That night she had tested her limits of inebriation. Unlike Euphemia and Shirley, she had a distinct like of the taste of wine and liquor, so the inability to get intoxicated itself didn't bother her. It just meant she could actually enjoy drinking without the concern of her presentability to others. Not that there had been "others" to whom she had cause to concern herself about being presentable.

Today, she was looking forward to the evening. She could already imagine herself sitting in the throne room, a venerable lake worth of wine brought to her from every shop in and around Pendragon, an endless pour of drink to celebrate her ascension.

But there was a bit more work to be done before getting there. As she stepped on the precipice of the crater and peered down at the depths, a figure moved near enough at the bottom of the crater. It was difficult to make out from a distance, but there was never any doubt who it was based on circumstance. She strode with a slightly odd gait, as if nursing an injured leg. This stride wasn't helped by her dragging along the long broadsword whose silvery blade glinted back even what dull light there was in this rain soaked atmosphere. All of her clothes were missing, her body fully exposed to the elements.

Marrybell drew a thin smirk before shouting down into the crater, "this is a rather interesting manner of enjoying the outdoors. What greater demonstration of madness is there than to see a princess blithely pacing a blast crater, dragging a sword behind her, in the nude, in the rain? Were any of our family ever so sure of themselves to dare show themselves in public this way? Or is this your newest plan to get the people to love you? It's quite a salacious idea. I've no doubt that you can count on many men, and a respectable number of women, to jump at the opportunity if you were to offer. It would certainly be quite the endurance test of your immortality."

Euphemia leapt from the crater, some twenty feet above the rim, and landed back on the ground a dozen feet or so away from Marrybell. Gloom and darkness covered her face, her expression seeming almost devoid of life.

"Why did you do this, Marrybell," Euphemia asked, her voice barely breaking above the sound of the rain and wind.

"I'd grown tired of this fruitless stalemate you seemed far too content to let linger on. I tried to be patient and let you come around to reality, but it was pointless it seems."

"I was told by Nina that it was a bad idea to revive you, but I defended you. When you came back, Shirley doubted that you would be any help, but I told her that it would be okay. Even after you chose to murder all those people in Spain and Londonium, while Nina and Shirley expressed their displeasure with your actions, I excused you and what you'd done. I kept believing in you and that you would be a positive force. It is a terrible disappointment."

"What a comical thing to say, considering I've felt quite the same regarding you. Your little fan club of the delusional scientist and the empty-headed ditz notwithstanding, why anyone would follow you is beyond me. The very hypocrisy of everything you're doing would be impressive if not for how utterly stupid it was."

"Hypocrisy, you say?" Euphemia asked, indignation rising. She reached out to the side, and as if grabbing hold of the fabric of reality itself tugged at space and pulled it towards her body as if pulling away a towel to wrap herself in. Just like that she was adorned in a dark green sweeping dress. "And what hypocrisy is that?"

"You say that you're doing all this for the sake of this world, that you want to save humanity. But you're obviously doing this for your own selfish reasons," Marrybell stated with a shrug. "You can't even admit to yourself the real reason you've been at this for nearly a decade. A toddler could have figured out immediately why your attempts keep failing. Just hearing what it was you wanted to do I knew why it hadn't worked without even witnessing your attempts. All of your posturing about trying to teach them a lesson, your refusal to confront and kill Nunnally yourself, your roundabout way of doing things, and your proselytizing about the evils of lies, all when you're the biggest liar there is."

"You don't believe I want to save the world?" Euphemia shout bitterly. "I've been trying to do just that! But if I don't do it the right way, then it'll just be another failure and who knows if there'll be another chance!?"

"You see, even now with just the two of us here, you can't help but tell the same, dull, lie."

"It's not a lie!" Euphemia screamed in anger.

"You can't help but even lie to yourself then, can you? Or are you too scared to say it out loud? I mean, everyone in the family knew it. Even after I returned home from exile they'd whisper about it. When you were supposed to have died, they'd joke that you were probably happy to die in Area 11 because it meant you could be together with him. All this effort and planning of the last several years, you haven't thought about how you could lead Britannia or the world to this supposed salvation. You didn't seek to revive Clovis, or Odysseus, or even your own mother.

"No, your thoughts have been solely, unshakably, fixated, on just him. Even if it meant forsaking the man you claimed to love and who would do almost anything for you, your entire existence for the last seven years, and even before that, have been about him and him alone. You'd even stand and receive all the ire in the world, be bludgeoned and mutilated, killed over and over again. You'd allow the allied forces of the entire world to deliver right on top of your head the most devastating weapon they can devise, allow it to sear away your flesh and bone until there is nothing left. No one, not even a saint, would allow that to happen to them simply in the name of something as vague as humanity's salvation. As dumb as your two groupies might be, I doubt even they really believe you either. They're smart enough to know better, but still idiots willing to follow you anyway. No one, least of all a member of our family, is near so selfless as that."

For a moment Euphemia's expression had turned to one of unbridled rage. And the next, as if a switch had been turned off, her expression turned cold and dead once more. She bowed her head, her shoulders slouched forward in the picture of a heartbroken bride jilted at the altar on her rain soaked wedding day.

"When did you become such a spiteful and horrible person, Marrybell?" she asked in a lower voice, just barely audible.

Marrybell scoffed and replied, "You weren't always so pathetic. Sure, you always were a mouse of a girl when it came to fighting, but you weren't so naïve about it. I thought you just a scaredy cat, too afraid to do the fighting yourself, willing to send others to do the fighting for you. That was more acceptable than this pathetic thing you've become."

"Do you fully understand what must happen now?" Euphemia asked, her voice gravely as though choking back the want to wail.

"Is that more humor? If nothing else I have just proven the futility in either of us trying to kill the other. We're both immortal. Any "death" we experience will be but a temporary thing."

"You're wrong, Marrybell. Didn't I tell you that your immortality was different from mine or Shirley's? You can most certainly be killed."

"What a shallow threat. I don't have any doubt you'd like me to believe that, so that I return to obediently following you, blindly going along in your fruitless quest. I'm no longer interested."

"So, you intend to take that gamble, all to just mindlessly slaughter innocents for a pointless throne you intend to do nothing of value with?"

"I plan to do much with the throne. I plan to sit upon it from time to time, and to look upon the wasteland of the city after I've burned it to the ground. Then I might rebuild it one day if I get around to it. That's not a promise, though."

"Please reconsider, Marrybell. I don't want to lose you again. I don't even ask that you follow me – only that you cease this wanton and meaningless destruction."

"Meaning is in the eye of the beholder. So, if there's nothing more…"

Euphemia raised up the sword, shifting her right foot forward and squaring towards Marrybell. A flash of anger passed over Marrybell's face. Disgustedly, she stomped her right foot on the ground, a jagged pillar of rock roughly a foot across shooting up beside her. As she went to grab it, it shattered, revealing within it a bare broadsword similar to the one in Euphemia's hands. "What a nuisance," Marrybell grumbled, clutching the hilt and dragging the sword behind her as she launched herself directly at Euphemia. She swung, one handed, as to cleave Euphemia from the left shoulder to the right thigh. Euphemia brought her sword to block, the concussive force of the two blades meeting sending out tremendous shockwaves and sparks as though to supplement the lighting and thunder of the skies above.

Euphemia pushed Marrybell off, coiled to her left, and, as she leaned into Marrybell's path as Marrybell fell away, uncoiled a horizontal slash meant to bifurcate her resurrected sister. Marrybell let herself fall back quicker to limbo beneath Euphemia's blade. She spun herself over, aiming and landing a firm kick to Euphemia's torso that sent her tumbling away. Euphemia stabbed her sword into the wet ground to stop her tumble, Marrybell already charging back in for another attack. Raising her sword up and grasping it with both hands, Marrybell brought the blade straight down over Euphemia's head, Euphemia once again bringing her sword up to intercept the attack. This time, she used Marrybell's momentum and dipped her guard to the right, letting Marrybell's attack slide off. She prepared to pull her own sword across, this attack if to land liable to decapitate Marrybell. Using her left foot to anchor herself, Marrybell managed to stop her momentum and turn away from Euphemia's attack, Euphemia's momentum this time leading her attack to shoot past Marrybell.

Marrybell followed through with a horizontal slash, releasing a blast of energy from the blade. Euphemia responded by drawing up her sword, a blast from her sword intercepting the one Marrybell unleashed. The blasts struck each other in a large concussive blast, throwing up a cloud of dust and debris. Euphemia cut through it with another pair of blasts in a crude cross pattern. Marrybell chose to take them head-on, swatting them down into the ground with another blast of her own. She then propelled herself into the air with the diffused blast. She prepped several small orbs of energy along the length of the blade of her sword. With a slash towards the ground she rained dozens of blasts down on Euphemia. Euphemia swat away a number of them before dropping to one knee to hold her ground in the face of the assault.

Marrybell landed back on the ground, a smug look on her face as she waited for the cloud around Euphemia to dissipate. "Are we quite finished now?" she called out to Euphemia. "This is entertaining to a point, but it really is utterly pointless. Clearly neither of us is trying their best, or else this entire coastline would already look quite different. I suppose I could bury you at the bottom of that crater, but I don't know that would really prove anything either. If you insist, far be it from me to deny you the pleasure."

Euphemia burst forward again, her sword pointed as though to impale Marrybell. Marrybell stepped to the side in her effort to avoid the thrust, bringing her sword around mid-height on the turn to try and catch Euphemia broadside. But Euphemia anticipated as much, and diverted the attack with a second blade seemingly created while she was obscured in the cloud of debris from Marrybell's earlier attack. This second blade was smaller, rather bizarrely shaped. It looked more to be a dagger than anything else, but seemed more ornamental than serious weapon. The relatively thin blade looked almost to have been shaped to mimic the fork of a lightning bolt, or the tine of an antler. It had a coloration to it almost like heat-warped metal.

Regardless its unusual shape and color, Marrybell paid it little heed. Euphemia had used it well enough to block the strike aimed for her, but the weapon appeared to Marrybell to be awkward to use in conjunction with the much larger sword. But that also made it awkward to defend against; the not knowing if to expect an attack with the longer blade or something closer in with the much shorter one. Marrybell guessed wrong on the first one, Euphemia feigning a charge with the long sword, but stabbing Marrybell in the torso. The two retreated from one another, Marrybell indignant over receiving the injury, while Euphemia seemed almost despondent over having landed the blow.

"A lot of good this has done you," Marrybell jeered. "I suppose landing a single injury to me makes you feel better?"

"No, only sad. Do you know the story of the Princess of Colchis?"

"So now we move on to story time?" Marrybell continued to heckle.

"She was a beautiful princess who cared greatly for her father and brother, and lived peacefully in her father's kingdom. One day a man came to Colchis in search of a particular piece of treasure her father owned – a pelt from a very rare beast he'd slain. The princess knew nothing of this man, nor his pursuit, and had not met him at all. But when her father refused to grant the man the treasure he'd come seeking, a goddess placed a curse on the princess. The goddess didn't care for the princess one way or another, but did care for the man, and knew that she could use the princess to get the man what he wanted. So, the princess, her mind corrupted by the curse, betrayed her father for this man she'd known nothing about and allowed him to take her father's treasure.

"Realizing that the man had taken the treasure and was fleeing, the king and his son chased after the man, meaning to reclaim the treasure he'd stolen. To save the man, the goddess once more intervened, forcing the princess to kill her brother the prince right before their father's eyes. The distraught king, not knowing of the manipulation placed on his daughter, decried her, disowned her. The princess had no choice but to travel with the strange man. This man, as it turned out, was also a king, though he'd lost his throne. He'd aimed to reclaim his throne with the treasure he'd stolen from the princess's father. But his compatriots did not approve of him nor the princess. To them the princess was a wanton woman who upon meeting a handsome young man betrayed her father and murdered her brother. And their would-be king was equally a villain for accepting her after she'd done so.

"The pair were chased from this kingdom, finding haven in a now third kingdom. The man was welcomed by the king here, who took a strong liking to the man, and in so doing offered his daughter's hand in marriage. The man accepted, knowing that it meant casting aside the princess whose life had been left in tatters in service to him. That's because even he too, despite knowing all of what happened, blamed her as being cursed and that it was because of her that he'd had such troubles. Though banished, she returned to the kingdom the night of the wedding and killed the man, his newly betrothed, the king, and every man and woman in attendance, in a great fire."

"Is there a moral to this story?" Marrybell heckled with labored breath. "Are you saying that you're that princess?"

"Yes, there is a moral to the story. But that's not why I'm telling it to you. You see, the princess, hated as she was and called a witch, had always used her magic in service to another. As a princess she had learned magic from her father, and used it to help him with his duties in the kingdom. It was for her magic that the goddess chose to manipulate her. She'd used magic time and again to assist the man. And it was fear of her and her magic that led people to despise her and call her a witch. But the source of her problems started with the magic that was placed on her that forced her to be that man's ally, that forced her to betray her father and brother. So, after the act of vengeance, she went off on her own to create something in particular. It was a way to undo any magic and return something to the state from before the magic was cast on it. She reasoned that had she had such magic at hand when her ordeal started, she could have used it on herself to undo the curse the goddess placed on her. What she came up with was a blade known as Rule Breaker. An enchanted dagger, it undoes any magic spells at work on the subject stabbed by that blade. What I hold is a replica of that blade."

"What does…"

"You were warned that your immortality is different from mine or Shirley's. Your immortality is a magical contract that I forged between you and Oldrin. Strong and durable, it wasn't something to be easily severed, even by me as the one who cast it. But one stab from this cursed dagger undoes the magical contract. Without the contract, you lose the precious anchor that keeps your soul tied to that body forged by mana. That body is soon to wither away, and your soul will return to C's World to rejoin the Collective Unconscious."

There was silence for a moment, before Marrybell threw her head back and laughed a boisterous, hearty, laugh. "This is so unbelievably stupid!" she shout through her laughter. "Is that what your true power is? I feel it must be, since you seem to wield it so effortlessly! It's almost like complete concealment of your presence. You're there, yet for some reason we cannot perceive your actions. To think you went quietly about your way holding such an ace against me. Even this fight was just theater for you, wasn't it!? You baited me into doing exactly as you wanted, so that you could stab me with that blade."

"I do not lie. It's just that others seem to never want to trust the things I say. I warned you that your immortality was incomplete – that you were not truly immune to death."

"Yes, you did. That's why I took care to steal away Oldrin and hide her from you. I assumed you'd have Shirley kill her as your way of getting to me."

"I also told you that I disliked killing innocents if it could be avoided."

"The you before me has a mind that is like a field of flowers atop a decaying mountain of trash, to think that such a vague warning could lead to this. But I suppose that is irrelevant to one who has not only chosen to oppose you but has lost and is soon to disappear."

"Your reaction is… different… from what I expected."

"It seems you aren't as keen to every word I said either. From the beginning I told you I viewed my death as a release. I hate this rotten world that took too much from me. I hated that I had to work so hard just for a scrap of the joy and contentment that so many took for granted. I look at you, and I'm reminded of our vile uncle – hiding in the shadows, manipulating people, and sneering at how much you think you're right about all the horrible things you lead others to do. Dying all over again is a disappointment, and a reward. It's satisfying to know I don't need to keep wasting my time here for an ungrateful and disgusting world like this one."

"I am nothing like our uncle!"

"Another lie you tell yourself. I truly hope, sister, that you do realize the truth before it's all done. Maybe then, as we rot in hell for an eternity, we might have something to actually talk about.

"And, if you'd be so kind, would you please let Oldrin know that I love her? Being with her again was the highlight of this episode, the same as the last."

Euphemia regarded Marrybell somberly. "I'll be sure that she knows," she replied.

"Crybaby Euphie. Even when you win you look like you're about to cry. You really are quite pathetic."

"I haven't won anything. All I keep doing is losing things precious to me, and I'm sick of it."

"Your lack of self-awareness is astounding," Marrybell remarked with a sickly chuckle. "What's done is done. I've neither the power nor time to change your mind at this point."

"Farewell, sister Marrybell."

"Goodbye, Euphie."

A swarm of dragons had congregated in the area while the two sisters battled. They seemed to know exactly what was going on, remaining silent in their gathering while the sisters fought and while they spoke with one another. As Euphemia turned away to depart, there was a cadence of roars, as though announcing Euphemia's final victory.

Euphemia walked a short distance away before propelling herself into the air and in the direction of the coast. A small ways off the coast was the Spanish ships Marrybell had arrived on, still anchored in place. She made a graceful touchdown onto the bow of a ship, hardly displacing the ship at all in the landing. At least 20 sailors were assembled with guns drawn. They seemed tense, scared, but they were holding their fire. Being in the employ of Marrybell, they seemed to at least be aware enough that recklessly opening fire on Euphemia was more likely to get them killed faster than it was to do them any good. She had a forced smile, pleasantly pleased that they hadn't overreacted to her presence.

"Can I ask who the commanding officer at present is?" Euphemia asked as pleasantly as she could.

"That would be me," a stocky, clean-shaven, gentleman said as he stepped past the front line of the guns. "It's an honor to meet you face-to-face, Lady Euphemia li Britannia. I am Admiral Petear Velasco," he greeted with a gruff voice.

"Hello, Admiral Velasco. I wanted to inform you that Marrybell has… that my sister has died. As of now, you are free to do as you please. Please inform Londonium as well."

"Is that all?" the admiral asked flatly. Euphemia flashed a glare, but relented quickly enough.

"If you're asking if I intend to attack and kill you all, then the answer is no. I only came to inform you of the results of the battle between Marybell and I. I suppose… I would recommend that you depart for home, however. While I bear you no ill-will, I cannot say what would happen were you to reencounter the United Federation fleet. There's nothing I can do about that… nothing I can do that wouldn't lead to many more deaths. I want to apologize for my sister's terrible actions, and for the suffering you endured by my choice not to step in to stop her. I doubt you will believe me, but on the other end of this series of tragedies, we will all be delivered from our suffering and pain. It will be a more honest future – a kinder and more gentle world that is more than just a fleeting dream in the middle of the hot nights of summer."