Darkness.
Every single time death comes, it always begins with darkness.
Yet, although it has felt unchanging, something about this silent void shifts minutely whenever Subaru arrives.
It is a place of nonexistence.
It is a place of eternal stasis.
But at the same time, this place—overwhelming and unutterably quiet—always greets him, envelops him, consoles him.
Could it be that this is actually someone's warm embrace?
He cannot say. No one could. The darkness has no visage. It bears no shape. It only calls out in muted hues, intangible, offering neither comfort nor condemnation.
Still, he feels it.
A presence—wordless, yet close.
And so Natsuki Subaru surfaces from that wellspring of demise once again.
※※※※※※※※※※※
—When he opens his eyes, he is certain he has been brought back.
"...Gh, ghah—!"
A burning in his lungs. A savage constriction in his throat as he gulps for air. His convulsing body flails on a hard surface. He can do nothing more than cough up spittle, overwhelmed by the shock of sudden revival.
No raging flames devour the scene. No mountainous beast stands guard. There is no sign of the rampaging Guiltilaw, no stench of molten flesh, none of the destruction from that final encounter in the Capital. Instead, beyond his squinting eyes, he discerns hustle and bustle—the fresh echo of everyday chaos.
"...This place... the Royal Capital's... main street...?"
Subaru's trembling voice leaks out as he props himself up on wobbling elbows. The burn on his right shoulder that had seared him in the last moments of that fiery city is—gone. His left arm is not dislocated. Even the track suit he distinctly wore before confronting Emilia is absent. He glances down:
Track pants. A convenience store bag. A ratty old phone in his pocket.
What he is wearing is the same outfit from that very first day. The day he arrived here.
—A day from long, long ago in his personal chronology.
"Return by Death," he breathes. "It threw me all the way back."
He draws in a breath to collect himself. Beyond the mild headache throbbing behind his eyes, everything else is almost hauntingly fresh. The Royal Capital. Those familiar reptile-drawn carriages. The many demihuman faces crowding the streets.
Long, long ago, he died in front of Emilia, offering an insane 'final gift' she never wanted. And now, time is rewound to the place that started it all.
Subaru's stomach roils, be it from relief, fear, or from the mountain of sins stacked behind him. He raises his quivering arms before his eyes.
—They are clean. Not drenched in blood, not blackened by soot.
Yet the memory of how deeply stained they truly are lingers in every nerve of his body.
"How am I supposed to do this...?"
He swallows. The normalcy of the Capital only worsens the dissonance. People walk past, unconcerned. Their expressions range from curiosity to disinterest, but no one spares him more than a fleeting glance.
They do not know anything. None of them realize that the world burned, that there existed a monstrous man who contrived it—that the madness ended with Subaru's savage execution by the very girl he loved.
He forcibly shakes his head, pushing away the swirl of emotion that threatens to break him. First things first:
"What's my spawn point, exactly...?"
He steels himself and glances around. This street scene—this is precisely the place where, in another life, he had drawn lines in the dust with a stick, totalling loops of trial and error.
A short distance away—
He sees them. Three silhouettes blocking a side alley.
"...Tom, Dick, and Larry," Subaru mutters with a wryness swirling in his chest. He's lost track of how many times he's encountered them. A few loops earlier in his life, these worthless thugs had already been no match for him.
But that was after hundreds, thousands of experiments, after Subaru had grown cold and unfeeling about lethal combat. Now, with so much undone, he can practically sense the muscle memory raging in his arms, an echo of monstrous skill. He could kill them if he wanted.
But the moment that cruelty threatens to surface, Subaru wavers.
He does not want to become that man again. The man who murdered, manipulated, and destroyed. It was for Emilia's sake—but the monstrous sight of that last loop's final outcome weighs heavier than ever.
He exhales, runs a trembling hand down his face, and takes a step in the opposite direction.
※※※※※※※※※※※
Thirty minutes later, Subaru stands at a quiet corner of the Capital, just outside the bustle of the main roads. Leaning against a wall, he tries to regulate his breathing.
There is no Elsa at his side, no Witch Cult at his back, no illusions that this world is some easy fantasy.
He can practically still taste the acrid reek of charred bone from that future that never came to pass.
"How many times is it going to be now...? Over a thousand? Over ten thousand loops across everything, maybe..."
He tries to quell the dizziness.
So far, for a moment, no one is dying. The air is no longer saturated with the stench of gore. And yet, if he steels himself for the slightest second, he can still feel the phantom sense of guilt that chained him to that blasted city of flames.
"I'm back. I'm back. I'm—back."
He reminds himself with each breath.
His heartbeat continues erratically, as if refusing to settle.
Now, he needs to decide what to do. In that future, he had concluded that only a catastrophic destruction would assure that Emilia stood unrivaled as a heroine, guaranteeing her ascendance. But that plan yielded a heartbreak so absolute that even the final moment, when he heard his beloved speak his name, was soaked with tears and regret.
He hates it.
He hates it so, so much. That final tableau was never what he truly desired.
What Subaru truly wants is to save Emilia. More than that—he wants her to smile. Genuinely, not from surviving a tragedy forced upon her, but from forging a future built on honest happiness.
"…Where do I even begin?"
He rakes his fingers through his hair, searching for solutions. All the prior knowledge of this world and its madness surges behind his eyes:
The Witch Cult and their unwavering devotion to the Witch.
The Cardinals, monstrous foes: Betelgeux, Regulus, the rest.
The Royal Selection, five candidates once, then four. Crusch's existence devoured by the White Whale.
Anastasia, Priscilla, Felt—how they can factor in.
Reinhardt… the unkillable hero who only drew Subaru's envy.
Roswaal, cunning clown with unclear motives, championing Emilia.
All those cultists Subaru manipulated, turning them into disposable pawns…
A twinge of agony lashes across his skull as a memory of Blue (Felix) and Mei Lee dying rears up. He inadvertently tightens his fist until his nails dig into his palm.
No more of that.
He has to find a route that does not require him to become the devil again.
"Easier said than done," he mutters, biting his lip hard enough to bleed. If an easier path existed, Subaru would have found it. Even so—
He hears soft footsteps behind him. A presence. Quick and lithe, then halting as if suspicious of approaching him.
Subaru glances back—and his eyes widen.
He recognizes the short blonde hair, the small frame. She is tense, carefully watching his every movement. The stolen insignia glimmers faintly in the bag at her side.
"Felt…?" he breathes.
It is yet another piece of the puzzle. In that first loop, in that first day, he met her, got entangled in her job to deliver the insignia. That same insignia was the spark leading him to Satella—Emilia—and drawing them together in a bizarre twist of fate.
Felt's red eyes narrow, her lips curling in suspicion.
"Tch, do I know you, old man?"
Old man, she says, though Subaru's only a couple of years older. He can't help a bitter snort. Perhaps after everything he's lived through, he does feel ancient.
"Not quite," Subaru says, voice hoarse. "But I guess… that's about to change."
She arches a brow, already stepping back. Quick like a stray cat, with her scrawny arms hugging that pouch. The insignia's faint glow leaks through the leather.
The insignia—a key item for Emilia, for the Royal Selection, for fate itself.
Subaru's eyes fix on it.
If he leaves everything alone, events will unfold nearly as they did the very first time: Elsa, the loot house, Rom, and a confrontation that leads to multiple loops. Or—he can intervene right now, forcibly wrenching that future onto another path.
He steels himself.
No more dancing aimlessly. He has no reason to replicate the old pattern blindly. That path ended in heartbreak.
"Hold on," he calls, voice quiet.
Felt reacts quickly, spinning on her heel to bolt—just as Subaru had expected. Immediately, he lunges. Everything he learned from far bleaker loops flows into his limbs. He seizes her by the wrist, feeling her tense in shock.
"Gh—!"
He quickly grabs the insignia from her bag, forcing it out. The strange glow of the oval-shaped symbol flickers across his palm.
"Wha—!? Lemme go, you jerk!"
She thrashes, tries to stomp him. Subaru's grip remains unyielding. If he had wanted to, he could have broken her arm, but that kind of brutality is far behind him… he hopes.
"I'm sorry."
He musters his regrets in two short words, then, in a single deft motion, yanks her arm up behind her. She gasps in pain, going on tiptoe, her face twisting.
"S-stop, that hurts—!"
Subaru releases her, letting her slump to the ground. She glares up, eyes ablaze. Yet he can see her fear. She might be a thief, but she's still just a kid. And one who never asked for the destiny about to swallow her up.
He tosses the insignia into the air once, catches it, cradles it to his chest. "I need this. More than you do."
She spits at him in frustration. "Get lost, bastard! You can't just steal from me—!"
A comedic line. He would laugh at the irony, but can't find it in himself. Her chest heaves with indignation, but a certain wariness in her eyes says she knows how outmatched she is.
Subaru's heart throbs, recalling glimpses of that fateful night in a candlelit loot house. Where Elsa would have waited to claim a bounty for this insignia. Where Satella—no, Emilia—would have arrived, searching for it. Where the loop would have begun.
He wants none of that now.
He steps away from Felt, who scrambles to her feet.
"Sell me out if you want. I know you have your big old man to run to. But you're not using this insignia for any job today."
She tenses, glancing between Subaru and the insignia in his grasp. She looks tempted to lunge for it, but the glimmer of caution wins out.
Something about Subaru's presence must be screaming at her to stay away. The aura of a cornered, desperate man overshadowed by monstrous experiences.
He nods to her, gently, the motion at odds with the cold sweat trickling down his neck. "I've changed a lot of things by taking this from you right here, right now. Sorry. But I don't want you— or anyone else—dragged into something worse."
Felt stands rigid, eyes wide. She scowls, likely not grasping half of what he's saying. The day is bright. People pass by in the distance. And in the space between buildings, these two alone stand at a crossroads of fate.
It's Subaru who turns his back on her first.
"Wait, you…!"
He hears her voice, but doesn't stop. He picks a direction leading deeper into the Capital, insignia clutched tight against his chest. The item's subtle radiance seeps through his fingers.
A silver recollection:
—The day he first met her, she introduced herself as "Satella."
—The day he gave his life so many times to save her, he learned her real name: Emilia.
—The night he burned the kingdom, he offered his love in the cruellest possible shape.
This time, he can't allow that to happen again.
※※※※※※※※※※※
"Where is she likely to be…? The very first day. She was searching around the slums. Right, the back alleys, hunting for clues to her stolen insignia. Which I just took from Felt."
Guilt churns in his stomach. He is repeating the same sin: robbing her of something. But if it means preventing that chain of tragedies, then so be it.
Past the archway leading to the lesser-trafficked region of the Capital, he notes the buildings grow haphazard, cramped, with soiled laundry lines overhead. The pungent smell of rotted leftovers lingers. He braces himself.
The last time he was here, Tom, Dick, and Larry had assailed him. But now he's aiming for a different encounter.
His chest tightens at the memory of slender limbs, silver hair drifting behind her, wide amethyst eyes brimming with a sincerity so pure it made his heart ache.
Perhaps if he sees her face, sees that innocence once more, he can glean some path that is not drenched in sin.
And so he hurries forward, turning corners, ignoring the suspicious looks from idle figures in the slum's shadowy nooks.
At last, a slightly wider lane—
He sees a flash of silver hair weaving quickly through. Not a dream, not a phantom. That is indeed—her.
"—Emilia!"
He calls, voice thick with longing.
She halts.
Her posture stiffens, turning to face the unfamiliar speaker. And yes, it is exactly as his memory depicts: pale skin, slender limbs, a white-and-purple outfit so distinct from the slum's drab color that she looks otherworldly.
At her side floats a small grey cat spirit, perched in the air with tail flicking warily.
"You… how do you know my name?"
A question that, once, Subaru had so fervently yearned to ask in reverse. Their roles are reversed. His eyes sting. So many times, in so many loops, he has addressed her as "Emilia." And she would widen her eyes, always so uncertain.
He softly raises both hands, insignia pressed between them. Emilia's gaze shoots at it instantly, her eyes going wide.
"That's… that's my insignia!"
She lifts her voice, uncertain whether to scold him or to question him. She lifts a hand, and Puck floats forward, presumably preparing to defend her. Subaru steps carefully, placing the insignia in plain view, letting her see it.
"Right. I ended up with it. I just… I want to return it to you. Properly."
Her brows knit, suspicious. She edges closer, still cautious. "Return it…? You… stole it?"
He should have predicted this. He sighs, tries to swallow the dryness in his throat.
"No, I… well. Let's say I kept it from the thief who wanted to give it to someone else. I don't expect you to believe me out of the blue."
Emilia's expression flickers, scanning him for lies. He can almost read her thoughts: This is too convenient.
Standing at an angle that conceals none of his posture, Subaru extends the insignia, arms trembling with the emotion welling inside. Emilia slowly closes the distance. The alley's hush intensifies, neither side daring to speak.
Finally, she's near enough to reach out. Subaru feels his heart pounding, so intense that he might vomit. This is the moment. A new, uncorrupted beginning.
Her slender fingers curl around the insignia. Subaru loosens his grasp, letting her claim it.
Quiet. Time seems to freeze.
Emilia looks down at the insignia in her hand, verifying it. Then her gaze lifts to Subaru. Her violet eyes, so bright and earnest, bore into him.
"Thank you," she whispers, voice subdued. "I… I didn't expect to get it back so quickly. Why would you do that?"
Subaru's face contorts. What possible explanation can he give? If he tries to recite the truth, it would be horrifying: I killed, manipulated, died again and again, tormented the entire kingdom—just to see you safe.
His smile is awkward and pained. "Because… you looked like you needed help."
It is the only half-truth he can muster.
She tilts her head, searching his eyes.
"All right," she says softly. "I believe you're being sincere, at least right now. I'm not sure I'm happy with how you got it… but I'm relieved to have this back. Thank you."
"…Sure," he mutters, tears pricking at the corners of his eyes. She's here, his heart screams. She's alive and well—she's free of all that horror.
Puck, noticing Subaru's crumbling expression, floats up between them, blinking in confusion. "Huh, this is new. You're looking at Lia like she's the sun after a long winter. Are you all right, mister?"
Subaru tries to force a trembling laugh, but it comes out as a choked noise. He quickly turns aside, scrubbing his eyes.
"I'm… yeah, I'm fine," he breathes.
Emilia, uncertain but not unkind, bites her lip. She looks upon Subaru as if confronted with a puzzle. She might sense that beneath his awkwardness, something deeper smolders.
But she does not push him. Instead, she cradles the insignia to her chest, then dips into a slight bow.
"My name's Emilia. I don't know yours. But… maybe we can talk somewhere else?"
"Ah—"
He opens his mouth, but no words come. This is reminiscent of that first loop, yet reversed. She's the one suggesting they speak.
And in his heart, Subaru wonders: Is this truly the path to a kinder future?
He forces the swirl of regrets aside, and nods. "Yeah. Let's talk."
※※※※※※※※※※※
They relocate to a small cafe near the main street—somewhere neither the slums nor the upper districts. Warm sunlight pours in, lighting dust motes that dance around the table.
Emilia sits across from him, Puck perched on her shoulder. Subaru stares at them, thinking how he never saw such a gentle sight in that final doomed world.
She draws the insignia from her pocket, letting it rest on the table between them.
Its pale glow glints each time the light hits it.
"So. Will you tell me how you kept it from being lost?"
She tries to set a congenial tone, but her voice still holds caution. It's natural—she knows nothing about him, and he's acting suspicious.
Subaru's heart clenches. No matter what he answers, it'll just be a fabrication around the truth. But if lying is the price to keep her from that grim future, he'll pay it.
He inhales. "I'm… not from around here. I just arrived in the Capital, ended up wandering around. Saw a group of thugs about to deliver the insignia to some shady buyer. I took it. Decided it'd be safer with me until I found its owner."
Emilia's eyes widen. "That's… quite the feat. Did you have to fight them?"
"Kind of," Subaru says, clearing his throat. The memory of coldly crushing Tom, Dick, and Larry flashes in his mind. Another loop, another life. He doesn't want to follow that route. "I'm used to stuff like that, I guess. It's not so unusual. But enough about me. Your turn. Why did you need the insignia so desperately?"
Emilia's lips part, and she gives him a contemplative look, as if debating how much to share.
Finally, she sighs softly. "It's… complicated. But this insignia is necessary for me to participate in a… ceremony. A big event in the Kingdom."
Subaru nods, letting her speak. The old him might have leapt at the chance to flaunt knowledge, but now he's content to watch her cautious sincerity.
She continues, "I need it to prove my qualification. If it had been stolen, I… would have been forced to withdraw. That might have caused trouble for the people supporting me."
She tries to appear calm, but her voice trembles faintly, betraying her own anxieties. Subaru notices Puck's tail swishing, as though comforting her.
He can't help but speak, quietly: "You're not doing it just for them, right? There's something you really want to change. Something important to you."
Emilia's breath hitches. She looks at him, startled. He sees in her gaze the reflection of her insecurities, her reason for striving to become Ruler, the land's perspective on half-elves. He meets her eyes, then glances aside, worrying he's said too much.
But Emilia surprises him. "You… that's—yes, that's true," she admits softly. "I have a lot of things I want to fix in this Kingdom. If I do nothing, people like me… half-elves and other demihumans, or anyone different… might never be accepted. I guess I want to prove they're wrong about us—about me."
Subaru's lips twist. She's earnest, still the same as she was in those countless loops, unwavering about her convictions even though fear underlies them.
He raises his gaze, voice hoarse. "You can do it."
He puts his entire faith in those words, remembering the devastation he caused just to ensure it would happen.
You can do it without me murdering half the world.
He squeezes that silent vow in his heart.
Emilia blinks, uncertain. Then a faint blush colors her pale cheeks. "That's… thank you," she says, a flicker of a smile forming. "I'm glad you think that."
For a moment, the sunlight seems warmer. The dull roar of the Capital's main street is strangely distant. They stare at each other. Subaru feels that old swell of longing that once made him fling the entire nation into flames.
"Sorry to interrupt."
A third voice breaks the hush. The cafe's door opens, letting in a swirl of noise. The figure stepping inside is a city guard. He scans the interior, notices Emilia at a corner table, and quickly approaches.
"Is that your insignia, Miss? We received word someone was looking for a stolen item."
Subaru tenses. Beside him, Emilia also stiffens. The guard notices Subaru, eyes narrowing in caution at the insignia on the table.
Emilia meets Subaru's gaze, then speaks resolutely: "Yes. It's mine. This man—he found it and was returning it to me. There's no problem now."
The guard's expression relaxes. "So the matter's settled, then. All right. If you're sure."
He offers a shallow bow, voice hushed with respect—likely because he recognizes Emilia's half-elf features and the rumored significance of that insignia. Without pressing for details, he turns and leaves.
As the door shuts behind him, Emilia breathes out in relief. "That was nerve-racking."
Subaru, posture sagging, forces a small laugh. "At least it's resolved."
Resolved. The Capital's daily routine flows on. No blood is spilled in the loot house. No sadistic assassin circles near, no monstrous illusions of flame and steel. It's all so quiet.
Then Emilia stands, insignia in hand, glancing at Subaru. "I guess… you're free to go your own way. But—" She steps forward, her voice tender. "Thank you again. For giving this back, for caring."
Subaru's face contorts at those gentle words. If only she knew the blood-soaked roads that led him to this simplest of kindnesses.
His eyes flick to the insignia. He notices, fleetingly, that its glow is gentler than he recalls from many loops. Is that a reflection of her heart? Or is it simply that everything has changed?
Emilia starts to turn away. Subaru clenches his jaw.
He cannot let her just vanish now, not after seeing the difference. But what can he say? How can he walk at her side without manipulating or overshadowing her?
At length, he utters, voice trembling, "Wait, Emilia."
She stops. The surprise at hearing her name from his lips again flickers across her face.
"Let me… help you. You said you have a lot to do, and not many to trust. If you'd allow it… I want to do something that actually has meaning, for once."
She gazes at him, eyes uncertain, even cautious. Puck's tail stands rigid.
He expects her to be suspicious—after all, he practically appeared from nowhere, returning something stolen, already knowing her name. But the memory of her final tear-stained face merges with the sight of her now. He cannot bear just to say goodbye.
"What do you mean, help me?"
Subaru can't respond with the entire truth. But he can speak from his heart.
"I… I want to protect you," he says quietly. "I want to see you succeed. I believe that your dream can come true—without any tragedies. Let me be useful… somehow."
Emilia's amethyst eyes grow wide. She clutches the insignia to her chest, almost as if shielding it. Then, with a slow exhalation, she lowers her gaze. A swirl of emotions flit across her features—hesitation, uncertainty, perhaps a faint whisper of hope.
Eventually, she locks eyes with him once more. "I don't know why you're so insistent. But… maybe we can talk."
She extends her hand, slender fingers trembling faintly. The invitation is tenuous, fragile. Subaru sees it. Sees in those eyes the same loneliness he once tried to annihilate with violent means.
All the old regrets coil inside him. He wonders if, someday, he'll reveal the truth… or if he must keep it buried forever. But for now—
Subaru gently places his hand on hers. The warmth is real. Not a fantasy, not a final moment before death.
"…Yes. Let's talk."
※※※※※※※※※※※
And so the new loop begins.
Without the instant swirl of the Witch Cult. Without the savage stroke of Elsa's blade. Without the manipulations of the prior thousands of do-overs, or the black fire that once ate the world.
Instead, a quiet vow: to fight for Emilia, but with open eyes and gentler hands.
Because in the darkest swirl of that lonely after-death place, he heard the voice of someone weeping for him, calling his name—someone he swore to never abandon again.
Even if the path is uncertain, even if the horrors of the future remain, even if those malicious Cardinals lurk beyond the horizon—this time, if it's for her, Subaru will shape a road with as little blood as possible.
"Emilia," he whispers, trailing after her.
She glances back, brow furrowing. "Yes?"
He steels himself, offering a small smile. "You can trust me."
She doesn't answer immediately, only lowers her lashes with the faintest ghost of a grin, then continues onward.
In that ephemeral moment—
Natsuki Subaru prays this path will lead to her salvation. That, in the next beat of time, it will lead to everyone's salvation.
Only the future will tell if the shadow of tragedy can be averted.
※※※※※※※※※※※
—He does not know that, far off in a hidden cave, the seeds of the Witch Cult continue to writhe in silence.
He does not know that a certain black-braided assassin in one loop, or a lonely cat-eared healer in another, or a thirsting demon beast all lurk in the realm of possibility, waiting for any chance to reemerge.
He only knows that, for this moment, the present has not yet turned to ash.
And that is enough for him to try again—this time, with open arms and a sincere vow.
※※※※※※※※※※※
—Even if you reject me, I will never forget you.
Subaru cradles that vow, stepping into the light with Emilia.