"Burrrrrrkard?"

"Ugh…"

"Burrrrrrkard~…"

"Uuuuuuugh…"

"BURKHARD!"

Phoebe gasped as the sheets were thrown off her body, sending her tumbling onto the floor and rocking the carriage. She groaned and covered her head as sunlight peeked through the open windows. She glared up at the shadow looming over her, making at the glint of emerald eyes staring down at her.

"…Tac?"

He groaned. "I prefer you use my complete name, Ms. Burkhard."

Ignoring his attitude, she sat up and rubbed the sleep out of her eyes. "Ugh. I just had the weirdest dream. Haven't had one of those since…" She frowned. "Actually, I don't remember the last time I ever dreamed."

Caractacus looked off to the side. "Yes. Very strange." He cleared his throat and said, "Well, I hope your day-long nap has allowed you to clear your head, because we have precious time left to exploit."

"Ugh, I just woke up. Give me a—WHAT?!" She sprung to her feet and grabbed him by the jacket. "What the fuck did you just say?!"

"We have precious time left to—"

"The other fucking thing!"

He glared. "Again, might I suggest improving your vocabulary? I'm afraid your overuse of that word has worn out its merit—"

"Tac, what fucking day is it?!"

He sighed. "You're not even paying attention to me—"

"DATE! NOW!"

He rolled his eyes. "It's the eleventh."

"The eleventh—WHAT!?" She angrily shook him, shouting, "Why didn't you wake me up sooner?!"

"Because then we would be having the exact opposite argument—"

"I'm not joking around, Tac!"

He glared. "Well, if you weren't being such a negative nuisance yesterday, we wouldn't even be arguing over this. We could've come up with twelve or thirteen plans in the time it took for you to get your supposed beauty sleep. Make that seventeen since I am a genius."

She growled and pushed him away. "Are you seriously making jokes at a time like this?!"

He dusted himself off. "Why are you mad at me? You're the one who wanted to save her friends by taking a power nap."

"Y-You…! Gah…AAAGH!" She pulled on her ears and marched circles through the carriage. "I just can't with you!"

He leaned against the wall and crossed his forelegs. "You make no sense. You want to save your friend so badly, yet you would rather just lose your sense of self to stop feeling the guilt that pesters you."

"Agh! It's not…it's not guilt!"

He glared. "How can it not be? Aren't you ashamed of the fact a part of you actually enjoyed living like your father?"

"…" Her arms drooped down, as did her gaze.

"Heh. I can say that without consequence, so you might as well listen. You're not trying to be better than your father, are you? You're trying to surpass that part of yourself because you know Evelot doesn't like it. The only person in the world who ever showed you a modicum of true kindness, and you don't want to scare her off. But no matter how many times you try to bury it, that part of you still lives on. And it's eating you up that you can't express how you feel anymore."

"…" She sighed before glaring over her shoulder. "You don't know a thing about me, MacGyver."

"I know enough. What does it matter?"

"So what? Do you think I'm as crazy and homicidal as my old man?"

He shrugged. "Yeah, you are."

"Of fucking course…" She turned away and covered her face. "Why am I even bothering to explain this to you—"

"Let me finish."

"…"

"You are indeed crazy and homicidal, but you're not your father. You don't carry his will. Only you can decide where you step forward." He sighed. "Despite the fact I was raised in the Outlands, I made my choice as a scientist to take advantage of the only life I knew. I scam thugs out of their resources, and they can't do a thing to me because I'm too valuable a resource. I made my mark on the Outlands. Why are you so quick to run away when there are two people out there counting on you to save their necks?"

"…" Phoebe closed her eyes and sighed. "Why? Why? Heh." She laughed into her hands with tears trickling down her cheeks. "Because no matter what, I enjoyed living as my father! I've killed hundreds just for the thrill of it! I loved it! I loved killing more than anything, and it made me sick! Giving in makes me sick, and suppressing it makes me sick! What other choice do I have other than to die?!" She turned and snarled at him. "TELL ME! WHAT CHOICE DO I HAVE?!"

Caractacus didn't flinch under her glare. Instead, he stood up and walked toward the carriage door. With a simple kick, he let in the sunlight and stepped outside onto the melted snow, looking back once at the distressed Aipom.

"Follow me."

She blinked through her tears, then frowned. "Why…?"

"You want a reason, don't you? You want a reason to keep on living, right? Well, stop crying on my floor and follow me. I want to show you something."

Year 895

"AAAAAHHHHHHH!"

Liberated from the chains of her father, Phoebe was left to bring terror to wherever she pleased. Her unshackled bloodlust that had been laying still for thirteen years has finally awakened, giving her a new perspective on what truly mattered in a pointless world.

Take, take, and take everything in a sea of blood!

She cackled as she cut down the helpless Gallade, stabbing him over and over in the back with the smashed bottle. Her eyes glinted in a faint red as she bared her fanged smile over the dying thug. "Still think you can handle me, tough guy~?" She slashed the bottle across his neck, spraying blood over the floorboards.

An Arbok lunged across the tavern to try and restrain her, but she chucked the bottle in his face, causing him to crash onto the floor with glass jabbing through his eyes. Phoebe backflipped off the Gallade and landed on the cobra's head, smashing it through the floorboards. She then pried his face loose, punched inside his mouth to stretch out his tongue, and stomped on his snout, causing him to bite his own tongue off.

"AAAAAAAAHHHHHHHH!" the Arbok screamed.

Phoebe giggled with madness, smearing blood over her face like warpaint. "So. Much. Fun~! More! More, more, more! Drown me in your blood!"

"That's…quite enough, Ms. Burkhard."

Phoebe stifled her laughter and smirked over her shoulder as someone entered through the tavern. It was a fancily dressed Kricketune, wading his way through the glass-covered floors as he adjusted his vest. He looked upon her with an even, almost unreadable glare.

Phoebe laughed. "Annnnnnd who are you supposed to be? Ooh, answer~! My next victim~!"

The Kricketune narrowed his eyes. "What did that man do to you?"

Phoebe laughed and stomped on the Gallade's head. "He thought he could go around being a creep out in public, so I taught him a lesson~."

"…That's not the man I'm referring to."

She shrugged. "Whatever." She laughed through her smirk. "Want to play with me next~?"

Amadeus raised his arm out, taking on a gentleman-like attack stance. "Child, you do not know the world you dance in. Cease this endless bloodlust, and I shall guide you to proper formality."

Phoebe laughed and made a lunging leap across the tavern. "Quit with that fancy bullshit! I'm going to start by carving your eyes out—"

"Soul Sonata."

Two large slashes projected and crossed themselves onto Amadeus' field of vision, tearing through the wall of liquor and the counter itself. Phoebe remained momentarily paralyzed in the air, eyes wide and blank, as the X-shaped wound across her torso sprayed blood onto the floor. She coughed up blood before finally hitting the ground, skidding into his feet.

Amadeus breathed a sigh of relief and crossed his arms behind himself. He glared down at the gasping monkey as she tried to fruitlessly remain conscious.

"I should've never…associated myself with your father."

Phoebe sat herself in the melted snow and glared across the burnt-out campfire between her, Caractacus, and Magni. The Scolipede lay curled up off to the side, his eyes set in the Aipom's direction. Meanwhile, Caractacus busied himself with inspecting the ancient cube known as Alpha/Logos, though Phoebe wasn't sure why he brought it outside with them.

She glared. "Could you please get on with whatever this is about? I'm freezing my ass off over here."

He sighed. "And yet, the period silence hasn't improved your speech."

She flashed her fangs. "Want to say that again?"

"I could, but then I'd be wasting our time." He set Alpha down and crossed his forelegs over it. "Tell me something, Burkhard. Did you experience any…peculiarities during your slumber?"

She calmed down and raised her brow. "Like how?"

"Oh, you know, anything. Whatever comes to mind first, really."

Though puzzled, she leaned back on her hands and glared up at the sky. "Ugh. Well, I suppose I had some weird ass…ugh, really weird dream." She shook her head. "I haven't had a dream in ages. I don't remember them being so vivid. I feel like I could recount every detail with perfect clarity. It was weird, I guess."

"I…see." Caractacus glanced down at the inactive cube before sighing. "Ms. Burkhard, I feel the need to apologize for that."

"Huh? Why?"

"I'm afraid your sudden manifestation of slumbering illusions was partially my fault. Unintentional, but I shall shoulder the burden of discomfort."

She glared. "What the fuck are you talking about?"

"Ugh. Well, I'm afraid you weren't alone in your dreams." He picked up Alpha and patted its front, causing the eye to light up. "It seems someone decided to poke around inside your mind."

"Wha…?" Phoebe scrunched her face trying to understand the half-metal Boltund's fancy talk.

"To be more accurate, Alpha here responded to something I said, and it took on the task of monitoring and recording your dreams. From what I gathered, it was doing precisely as I secondhandedly requested: bringing you back to home and acting as a sort of guide through your jumbled memories and fears. I assume you recall the eyes that appeared in the sky?"

Phoebe scratched her head. "Huh. I…guess I remember something like that. It pointed me to a memory of my mother, which…eventually led to that old memory of me killing…him."

Caractacus nodded. "Well, unintentional as it was, thank you for being an unexpected test subject into my research of Logos. I gathered far more information than I hoped for."

She grunted. "Don't treat me like one of your test sub—" Her eyes widened. "Wait, how…did you know about the eyes in the sky?"

"Hmm?" He sighed. "Oh dear, I got ahead of myself, didn't I?"

She growled. "Caractacus! What did you do?!"

He shook his head. "Again, nothing I did intentionally." He set Alpha down. "I should probably explain what happened…"

Yesterday…

"As Magni and I were returning from our investigation into your old home, among other events, we came across something…shocking."

Caractacus' eyes widened upon opening the carriage. He found Alpha hovering in front of Phoebe's bed, projecting psionic waves onto their slumbering form. The sleeping monkey growled and squirmed in her bed, tearing through her bedsheets and biting into her pillow.

Magni stuck his head through the doorway and gasped. "What that?!"

Caractacus immediately leapt between Phoebe and Alpha, using his Negative Space to soak up the psychic energy. "Alpha?" he gasped, looking upon the floating cube in shock, yet overwhelming intrigue.

Alpha focused on the Boltund momentarily before ceasing its psionic activity. However, rather than dropping to the floor, it lowered itself to Caractacus' level, staring into his shining emerald eyes.

"…Absolutely scintillating," Caractacus mumbled.

Alpha floated closer, nudging against the Negative Space.

"…You wish for me to reach out to you? You wish to show me something?"

The cube made no other movements, yet Caractacus understood completely. He lifted his organic paw and pressed it against the cube's eye.

Magni recoiled from the carriage as blinding blue light emitted from the cube, filling Caractacus' eyes as the psychic energy wrapped around him.

Caractacus stroked the top of Alpha. "This thing is unlike anything I've ever seen. Alpha, or rather Logos, has the distinct trait to manipulate the concept of knowledge on top of its vast wealth of innate power."

Phoebe glared. "Manipulate knowledge?"

"It has complete control of its memories. It can record vast amounts of information and either store or transfer it. Not only that, but it can manipulate memories. It was able to peel back your own mind and help you uncover what was eating you up inside. And now it has allowed me to peer beyond your façade."

After another moment to process the confusing string of words, her eyes widened. "You saw my memories?!"

"Yes."

"You fucking creep!"

He shrugged. "I didn't know what Alpha was going to do. I just went along with it in the name of science." He glared at her. "Don't flatter yourself with my newfound knowledge of this. Most of it was just your recent dream, which wasn't what I would call pleasant for me." He shook his head. "But yes, it appears this is one of the many tricks of Logos: complete control over knowledge."

Phoebe calmed down a bit and looked away. "So…you saw all of that?"

"Indeed. It was worse than I pictured. Your father, in particular, had some…interesting parental techniques. One could call them atrocities." He sighed. "I do apologize for violating your privacy, even if out of my control."

"…" She glared at the ground. "Whatever."

He glared. "Still, I have a better understanding of your inner conflict. You've been rejecting the savagery that was instilled by your father. The very basis of who you were raised to be, and now it's trying to break free from its cage."

"…" Phoebe sighed and hugged her legs against her chest. "I've told Evelot bits and pieces of my life, but I can't bring her to see that side of myself." She gritted her teeth. "I hate that I liked the taste of flesh. I hate how every time I meet someone, I think of a dozen different ways I could kill them. I hate that I have these intrusive thoughts about killing just for the sake of it. I just…I just don't like who I've become."

Magni frowned. "Phoebe…"

"Is it wrong of me to say I just want a normal life?! I want to settle down with a cute girl who gets me! I want to start a family even! The right way! I want to grow old and look back on my life thinking everything was just right!" She covered her face and growled. "Look at me! Who would love a demon like me?! Everyone's either terrified of me or wants to kill me! I don't have a future." She sighed and pressed her face against her knees. "My father taught me never to get my hopes up over love. It's better to find love through killing, because there's no point to anything else."

Caractacus rolled his eyes. "I've always hated nihilism."

"I'm not nihilistic."

"Could've fooled me. Personally, as someone who wants to search for the greater truth, I see every opportunity to learn from this ruined world. I say the discovery of Alpha here has boosted my love of discovery. Think of the possibilities waiting to be finalized!" He glared at her. "But I'm getting off topic. My point is that you're wasting all your energy suppressing that thing inside you that you refuse to accept any of it happened to you."

She growled. "Are you trying to make me kill you?"

"Are you even happy with your current station, Ms. Burkhard? You're tearing yourself apart to appease your ideal fantasy, but all that accomplishes is inevitable self-destruction. But you already know this, so the next best step is to die valiantly to save your friends and live the rest of your life as a wild animal like your mother—"

"DON'T…bring her up," Phoebe growled.

"…My apologies, but you know I'm right."

She huffed. "You're a real jackass, you know that?"

"Perhaps, but what does it matter if you want the weight of despair to swallow your awareness?" Caractacus glared. "Lord Rimmer saw potential in you to change. So, why do you keep running from it? Why are you driven by this contradictory conflict?"

"…" Phoebe scowled at the ground. "Why…?" She closed her eyes and sighed. "Why, indeed?"

Year 898

Phoebe sat grumpily in the dining room chair, keeping her head down under Amadeus' disapproving gaze. She had dried blood covering her chin, and one of the false teeth she wore was missing, exposing her top left fang.

"All my etiquette lessons, and you allowed yourself to slip back into that volatile side of yourself," Amadeus scolded.

She scowled. "It wasn't that bad."

"You tore his throat out. With your teeth."

"…" She scoffed. "He was some creep leering at me, and he tried to look up my skirt. I say he deserved to have his vocal cords ripped open."

Amadeus sighed. "I will deal with him after he heals from his injuries…though, with the lack of medical experts in the Outlands, he might die from an infection," he mumbled. "Even so, your technique was appalling. It lacked grace and eloquence. He was more deserving of a beautiful death~!"

Phoebe raised her brow. "You're more upset that I did a shit job at ripping his throat out?"

"I am a killer as well, dear Phoebe, but that doesn't mean the job must be a messy one. You must carry yourself with passion. Devotion to one's soul guarantees a shine unlike the stars of the heavenly skies!" He sighed. "You have no decorum or grace when you kill. It's that of a savage: wildly flailing yourself and digging your fangs into whatever meal with satiate that bloodlust. There's no art to it!"

She rolled her eyes. "Why should I waste my time with shit like that? They don't deserve meaningful deaths. Everyone dies, and some do so in their sleep or being crushed under a tree because they chopped it down incorrectly. There's nothing beautiful about it. It's just death."

Amadeus sighed. "But for one to be crushed by a tree, is that not nature's artistic attributes imposing itself? Man and nature in conflict, and nature wins due to man's arrogance!"

"Did you seriously turn my shitty example into an art piece?!"

He turned his back to the Aipom. "I will soon become lord of Skeleton Water and bring some class back to the Outlands. Kicking out Lord Kinnaird would do this town some good."

"Who?"

He sighed again. "You've lived in this one town for sixteen years, and you still don't know the name of your own corrupt lord?"

"Why would I remember pointless shit like that?"

"Well, once he's removed from his position, perhaps I can slowly gain control over the Outlands." He closed his eyes. "My dream is to make the Outlands the eleventh kingdom of Virdis with me spearheading the way to recognition. A lawless land conducted with an air of order, a place where all are free from the divide of classes. Those with beautiful souls will decide their fates here~!" He glared back at her. "Hence why I'm helping you become your best self."

She scowled. "This prim and proper shit isn't me, though. I was born to be wild!"

"But is that the kind of person you want to be? If you desire to live like your father, why did you view him with such contempt?"

"…" She frowned, turning her gaze to the floor. "I don't know…"

Amadeus shook his head. "That other you is unfit for proper society. You must decide if you're an Outlander or a Virdisian. Do you want to spend the rest of your life being a monster? Do you want to end up like your father? Is that the destiny you've decided for yourself?"

"…I don't know…" Phoebe covered her eyes and shuddered. "I…don't know."

"…There's nothing to be proud about with that other me," she grumbled. "My woes, my hate, my hunger. It's every aspect of my father that I didn't want a part of my new life." She shook her head. "But no matter how many times I try to suppress it, it always comes creeping back up. If Evelot knew what I was really like without restraint, I'd lose the only friend in the world who matters."

Caractacus glared. "In other words, it's easier to become a monster who doesn't understand the world than be a loner who understands why the world views her as a monster."

She scowled. "I don't expect you to understand. You don't care about anyone but yourself."

"…Yeah." After shaking away some stray thoughts, he said, "So, not an ounce of pride for your heritage?"

"Why should I feel proud?"

Caractacus nodded at Magni. "Well, you and this big guy are kin. Savage Kin, specifically. Do you think he's ashamed of who he is?"

"…" Phoebe raised her head and stared at the Scolipede unsurely. "Magni?"

He smiled softly and nodded. "Savage Kin…means freedom. Freedom from chains. Truest expression of self."

"…" Phoebe frowned. "I'm not sure anyone would want to know the real me."

Caractacus sighed. "Burkhard, want the brutal truth?"

"Do I have a choice?"

"No."

"Ugh. Proceed."

He glared. "The real you was a murder happy child raised under terrible living conditions. Your father was a serial killer who regularly took advantage of your mother until she regressed back to her savage nature. He treated you like another him to take over his life's work. You've had it easier than some folks, and you're downright pleasant compared to most."

Her eyes widened. "How the fuck does that cheer me up?!"

"I had my limbs and jaw blown off by a mad cowboy. Evelot's family was massacred. Lancaster was exploited and manipulated out of his money before being permanently crippled on two separate occasions. Oh, and let's not discount the mad farmer you lot ran into, the thrill-seeking dimwits, and a slew of other thugs living it up in the Outlands. Or shall we discuss the wild arrangement of horrible people that live outside the Outlands?"

"…" Phoebe frowned.

"Who cares if you're a little screwed up in the head? At least you're trying to better yourself. Some people spend their entire lives giving into their bad habits and making it everyone else's problem. Like, I don't know…the Foresters? Yeah, the Foresters. I bet most of them are made up of screwballs with even wilder backgrounds."

Phoebe looked aside, briefly recalling her group's departure with JoJo. "I…suppose."

"Evelot is not going to abandon you over something like this. She knows you're a good person, and I think that's why she tries so hard to help you and Lancaster see there is good in you." He rolled his eyes. "And though I find the search for love quite dreadful, there's probably someone just as crazy as you out there. It's like the pursuit of science: you'll never get your answers on the first experiment."

"…" She pressed her face against her knees and shuddered. "I'm scared to embrace that old part of me again."

"Good. Let it scare you. Be scared of it so that you know how to use it correctly. A swordsman can't wield a sword until he first understands the weight of its fangs. A gunman cannot wield a gun until he understands the sting of its breath. And a mercenary born to kill shouldn't take a life until they understand the importance of preserving one."

"…" Phoebe smirked sadly. "When did you become a philosopher?"

He proudly flicked his paw across his fur. "What can I say? I'm a genius."

She sighed, squeezing her legs tighter. "I'm scared of letting that side of myself out again."

"But you'll have your experiences until now to balance it out. You're the daughter of a killer and a savage, but those roles do not define you. What role will you give yourself in tomorrow's battle, Burkhard?"

"…" Phoebe sighed before lifting her head and looking the Boltund in the eyes. "We need to start plotting to defeat Amadeus."

Caractacus smirked. "Finally, because I have an idea of how we can get past his perfect technique. You know how to do Evelot's transferal technique, right? And you can draw out certain moves if you concentrate with Metronome, right?"

"Yeah?"

"All I need is a vial of Rainbow, and we'll be good to go."

"…" Phoebe glared. "Evelot has all the Rainbow stashed away in her shadow storage."

He sighed. "Drats. Well, that explains my lackluster search before I woke you. I was hoping you had a few vials stashed away. Best we focus on defending against his technique than countering it."

"…" Reluctantly, she sighed and asked, "How badly do you need that Rainbow?"

Caractacus frowned. "Well, I wouldn't say badly, but…"

"If I tell you something that no one should ever know about, can I trust you to keep it a secret?" She glared at Magni. "That goes for you, too, big guy."

Magni nodded. "Yes."

Caractacus glared. "You know of a way to access more Rainbow?"

"…" She stood up and pointed to the carriage. "Follow me inside. We have a lot of work to do before tomorrow."

Nightfall – Skeleton Water Prison

Evelot kept herself bundled up inside her rags and leaned against the heavily cocooned Amos, who stared vacantly through the prison bars. The night guards stood watch on both sides, mostly nodding off into the long hours of the night.

Evelot whimpered and snuggled closer to Amos. "W-What if Phoebe doesn't come to rescue us tomorrow night?"

"Quit your whining. She's not going to lose."

"She nearly died fighting Vilgot, though. How can she stand a chance against someone leagues above her last fight?"

Amos groaned. "Look, I don't know, but crying over it won't save us. What happened to having faith in her?"

"…I'm just scared for both your sakes."

"…" Amos sighed. "I don't expect tomorrow to be the easiest fight of her life, but I know she would risk everything to protect you. We don't know what she'll do tomorrow, but have faith that even the bug won't know what she's cooking."

"…" Evelot sighed and nestled closer against his bandaged body. "Okay…"

"Just get some sleep." Amos closed his eyes and relaxed into his cumbersome cocoon. "Because we're leaving this shithole tomorrow night. All of us."