The cell stank of rotting flesh.

The stench was overwhelming, an acidic gas seeping into the walls, fusing into them in an inseparable union. Blood had long since crusted over the stone in layers, some brown, some black, some a fresh crimson.

Subaru hung from the wall.

Iron stakes pinned thick, tight skin folds from his back and head, stretched and nailed outward, displaying flayed muscle like slabs in a butcher's wall. Undoubtedly from Felix's careful process of peeling tissue, like an orange, and nailing it into the stone behind Subaru in thick, meaty strips. His flesh had once bled freely, but now was a raw, scabbing tapestry of exposed nerves and muscle.

Subaru's left arm twitched sporadically, grotesque and mangled. It had healed wrong, bent wrong, not from the healer's mistake, but from intention. His fingers curled like claws, spasming from a nervous system tangled like yarn, mangled just enough to keep sensation alive. Skin ballooned around the wrist, blackened from failed blood flow. His left leg mirrored the arm's grotesque, monstrous appearance.

His right arm and leg still bore the pulsing heat of cursed dragon blood, some disgusting inflated veins. It had spared him deformity… and preserved pain. The leg lay twisted, foot pointing down and bones sticking out, in a constant battle of healing and shredding.

Felix made sure he couldn't complain, metal wires clenched his jaw shut, tearing lip meat with every tight stretch. He couldn't speak, only letting out muffled cries and whines similar to a dog's.

Subaru was nothing short of Felix's masterpiece, carefully crafted over sessions and sessions of bonding time. Felix didn't just regenerate his body, he restructured it. In each visit, healing magic worked away at damaged nerves, upgrading them into biological instruments of agony. Ion channels along the neurons had been widened, chemically engineered to open at the slightest stimulus. Myelin sheaths were thickened unnaturally around his axons, boosting conduction velocity and making the pain arrive faster than thought. Step by step, Felix had built a nervous system that didn't just function but performed. Subaru's body had become an orchestra of suffering, a symphony that would make any musician jealous.

The sight of his body stacked trauma on his already feeble mind. He felt like a stranger in his own body, a feeling so foreign like living in a country and not knowing the language. His body could no longer be considered human, his senses were unnatural, even sharper than a demi-human's. Worse of all, his pain didn't fade with time, instead it renewed with every heartbeat. A draft of air against the skin could feel like razors. The slightest vibration in the stone became thunders that shattered bones.

footsteps clicked in the air.

Felix walked away from a wooden table with a hum on his lips. Something melodic, almost cheerful. His gloves were already on, a spotless white. The tray in his hands gleamed with polished metal: blades, nails, hammers, and the long, slender icepick-like rod.

"You're so quiet today. Hmm, maybe that means it's working…"

"Julius hasn't visited as often lately, has he?" Felix's voice tilted into a purr. "Do you know why, Pride?"

The question hung in the air for a moment, unanswered

"Because of the Half-elf." His voice turned sing-song again. "She's so warm with him lately. You should see it. They even walk together like they're on the cusp of something sweet"

Whimpers resonated across the walls

"No reaction Huh?" Felix continued, slightly disappointed "I guess you cultist never saw her as a person, only as a vessel for your goddess"

A flicker of something crossed Felix's expression. Bitterness.

"Julius, he... has been so happy lately. Moving on with his life" Felix tightened his grip on the tray, his voice cracking for the first time. "I get to be here. With you"

Felix knelt in front of Subaru with grace, setting the tray down slowly, like he was serving dinner to a guest

"Studying your body has been helpful, the way the dragon blood behaves on you is unique. But, everything would be easier if you just talked already" Felix spoke, not expecting a response.

"You know, there is this new procedure that I learned, It's supposed to make prisoners less violent and more obedient by removing all the bad intentions from them" Felix murmured, placing a hand on Subaru's face "They've started using it in the dungeons. Easier than crushing spirits. More efficient than magic, cleaner too."

"Who knows? It might make you happier" The hand glowed blue, healing magic forced muscles to contract, and Subaru's eyelids opened wide.

With mechanical precision, Felix's hands slithered to the tray. His fingers came into contact with a long, slender rod, polished and narrow, ending in a curved, icepick-like tip.

The needle-like rood was raised in the air, pointing toward one of Subaru's eyes. Then, it slowly inched forward, a slight tremble from Felix's hand transferring to the delicate rod.

Subaru's body moved on instinct, getting restricted by the restraints of his own skin. He tried and tried in vain, all escape attempts registering on his body as small bursts of trembles. His face wrinkled, eyelids staying open despite all the effort. The eyeballs moved erratically, popping out like binocular lenses, only to decrease the distance between the approaching piercing object.

The needle's shadow transferred to his eyeballs, changing direction and homing in on a target. It made contact, pressing into the soft pocket of the tear duct just above the cheekbone, right where the eye met the bridge of the nose. The bone there was thin and fragile like an eggshell, conveniently being perfectly aligned with the target.

Felix's other hand shot back, grabbing onto a weighed mallet, before picking up speed with forward momentum. It made contact with the end of the rod, the tip of the rod pierced soft tissue, the bone snapping like brittle glass. Metal slid inward, behind the eye, into the orbit. Cold metal against warm brain matter.

A sound like wet fruit being crushed echoed inside Subaru's skull.

The skin around the mouth stretched, and metal wires ate away at his face. Screams drowned in his throat, vibrating against the inside of his cheeks. The pressure in his mouth increased, saliva accumulated, some spilled out of small gaps in the lips, the rest pushed against the walls, puffing his cheeks like a glass blower. The tongue met rancid, half-digested food chunks and stomach acid regurgitated with every scream.

Felix manipulated the rod around, twisting the rod slowly. Left. Right. A lazy stirring motion, like mixing something thick, each of its wiggles severing connections. The metal worked like a pen, scribbling away words deemed unnecessary. Every millimeter it moved cut across the fibers of identity.

Subaru's eyes rolled back into darkness, revealing the white sclera underneath. Blood spilled from his nose, all the crimson on his face mixing with tears and boogers. His body convulsed violently, the flayed flesh on his back tore again with a sharp rip, blood cascading down in long, slow drips.

With a tug the rod unsheathed from the flesh, blood clinging to it like syrup.

The tool left Felix's hand, falling towards the ground. He stood in silence for a moment, looking down at the broken thing in front of him.

Subaru didn't move.

Felix stared.

"Pride..?" he whispered.

No answer. No resistance. Just soft breathing.

Felix's voice cracked. "Are you going to tell me how to cure everyone now?"

He leaned in close, the scent of blood filling his nostrils. His eyes searched Subaru's blank ones for any flicker of life. But there was nothing, just bloody tears pouring down his cheeks.

"Lady Crusch… she's been getting worse lately," Felix whispered, almost like a confession. "But even then, she asked me to help the others first. To find a cure for the other victims of Lust."

His lips trembled. The tray beside him rattled as his grip on its edge tightened, knuckles whitening beneath the red-soaked silk.

"She's too kind," he muttered, voice beginning to splinter. "She prioritizes others before herself…"

His breathing turned sharp.

"And I—I just want to take away her suffering!"

Felix's hand morphed into a fist, and in a motion radiating rage, it slammed down into the stone. The contact blew away at bones and vessels, and blood filled the white glove tainting it. Crimson accumulated before splattering around the fist, mixing with Subaru's own. The damaged hand began to heal–

He didn't stop.

Another strike.

And another.

And another—

"So I beg you, Pride!" he howled, striking until his wrist bent unnaturally "I don't care about the other victims! I don't care if I disappoint Crusch-sama! Just tell me how to cure her—her and no one else!"

Tears fell freely now, trailing down his cheeks.

At that moment, a porcelain mask started to crack, imperfections spreading in the shape of tear trail valleys

"Why are you so useless!?" Felix screamed, gripping Subaru's face, shaking it gently, desperately, like trying to wake someone from a nightmare.

Subaru's eyes stayed dead.

"How can you not value your life?! How can you just sit there, rotting away like it means nothing?!"

He slammed his fist into the floor again. His voice cracked and trembled.

"I tried! I tried! I've spent every waking second trying to be what she needed!"

More blood. More shaking. His shoulders convulsed with each sob that tore through him.

"Why is Ferris so useless?!" he screamed, his face falling limply on Subaru's chest "There is nothing I can do for the only person I love… I would do anything for her, I would die for her… But there is nothing I can do…"

His voice dissolved into ragged breaths and hiccupped sobs. The kind you only make when your throat's raw from crying. When there's no one left to hear you.

"How does it help me to be known as the greatest healer alive… If I can never heal when it counts?"

His battered hand had mostly healed, but even then, it trembled as it hovered above Subaru's ruined face. He couldn't even bring himself to touch him anymore.

"I couldn't save Crusch when she lost her memories… That's one Crusch I failed to save, the Crusch who saved me.

He choked on his own spit, coughed, swallowed, kept going anyway.

"I couldn't heal the royal family. I let the one she loved die, right in front of her."

"And now I'm failing this new Crusch."

His voice dropped into a whisper. A raw, strangled thing.

"And now I'm failing this new Crusch too."

He looked down at his hands. Trembling, scarred, soaked in blood. Subaru's and his own.

"These hands…" he whispered. "They're filthy, tainted with blood. I touch her with these useless hands. Hands that can't bring her hope. That only know how to cut and hurt and fail."

"I really have no shame."

He laughed, a short broken laugh.

"I have failed in life. I'm not a good healer. I'm not a good interrogator. I'm not even a good person"

"I just keep struggling, and struggling, and struggling in vain, like that'll mean something. Everything—everything I've ever done has been to earn Crusch's approval. Her praise. Her smile…"

His whole body shook now. The sobs came in tidal waves, like his soul was trying to vomit itself out.

"That's right" He rasped "I never healed others because I cared for them. Even now the only person I love is Crusch. Even when I see other patients… all I ever see is Crusch."

"So please… Pride… Subaru…"

He sank to his knees, forehead pressed to the bloodstained floor.

"I'm begging you."

His voice was almost transparent now, breaking apart with every syllable.

"Please… tell me what I can do…"

No response

Tears started to flow, his face twitched into something irreconcilable. He staggle forward tainting Subaru's chest with his tears once again. His hands enveloped the broken sack of meat in front of him, seeking the heat, seeking the comfort, seeking answers"

He was no longer the one with a collar, Crusch had saved him from that fate, and that role now lay on the one in front of him. So why did he still feel like he was the one trapped?

Cruch's body might be alive, but the Crusch who saved him was gone, she had forgotten all their happy memories, she had forgotten the day she saved him. And now he is failing Crusch once again, letting her suffer while there is nothing his insignificant self could do to help her. He just wanted someone to blame, maybe to be told that there was no helping it, that there was nothing anyone could do, that there was no hope left. But there was something he could do? As long as there is life there is hope, so he was obligated to try harder. It's not like he couldn't accomplish something if he put his all into it. Right?

So he worked, tirelessly. He was being useful, he was the only one who could do anything. He might have started to spend less time with Crusch, but it was because he was working hard for her sake, not because he couldn't stand seeing her state and stand there helplessly. Yea, that was it, he was just trying his best.

Here he had the Sin Archbishop of Pride, one that was unaffected by the cursed dragon blood. He had hope, all he had to do was keep pushing, pushing, and pushing until some answers came. He didn't care if he became a monster, after all, it was all for Crusch's sake, it couldn't be helped.

So he returned and returned, focusing on only one thing, learning torture where healing couldn't help. Now, he was in control, he could do anything in this cell, the worries, the expectations, and the ever-spinning world, all seemed to disappear. Here, he wouldn't be thrown around by fate. Here, there was something he could do.

Watching the world keep going while he stayed behind in this cell, thinking that he was doing something. He really was–

Slothful

A breath.

"I… I hate myself…"

Another, this one caught on a sob.

"I really… really hate myself…"

Moments passed, he stood up as he let go of Pride.

He looked at the bloody rod, useless thoughts plagued his mind before being dismissed.

His head shot up, looking at the leaky stone ceiling above. Tears continue to pour down his face.

"Are my efforts pointless? Is there nothing Ferris can do?"

No Response

The curtains were drawn tightly, keeping morning sunlight from disturbing the room's fragile peace. What little light filtered through was golden and soft, casting long shadows across fancy bookshelves, the floor, and the unmoving body on the bed.

Crusch lay there, pale on some parts, black veins on others. She lay still, her breath quiet and shallow. She looked regal even in weakness, her hands folded over a chest that barely rose. A faint flush adorned her cheeks. She had just been fed breakfast.

Wilhelm stood by her bedside, motionless and noble, swordless but still on guard. He had kept vigil for hours, just waiting.

The door creaked.

Felix entered slowly, wearing his uniform and gloves. His face was neutral, no twitch, no tired smile, not his usual attempt at charm. Just silence. Something had hollowed him out.

Whilhem stood up, a frown on his face "Where have you been?"

"I've been working with Pride like always. and I found it," Felix said, eyes not meeting Wilhelm's. "The cure."

Wilhelm's brows raised. "Are you certain?"

Felix gave a stiff nod "Yes, but even if it doesn't work, it's not an invasive procedure"

"Then do it," Wilhelm said finally. "Whatever it takes."

Felix hesitated for just a second. "I'll need you to step outside, Wilhelm-san."

The old swordsman's eyes narrowed, something wary creeping in. "Why?"

Felix turned toward him with a tired but firm expression. "Because you trust me. Don't you?"

Another silence.

Wilhelm left the room.

Felix turned back to Crusch. Her breathing was steady. Her brow was smooth. A cold sweat dotted her collarbone.

"F-felix?" Cursch spoke with difficulty, barely audible

"Shhh, It will be alright" Felix placed his hand on her face, it shone with blue light, her body relaxed, mouth falling open just slightly, deeper sleep claiming her.

He reached into his satchel and pulled out a small wooden box. Felix paused. His hand trembled.

Then he opened it.

Inside, cushioned by cloth, was a finger, malformed and pale.

Felix removed his gloves. His bare hands were white, delicate as porcelain, still shaking.

He reached out with the severed finger, and touched it gently to the soft skin of Crusch's sternum. Almost instantly the blood in the finger pulsed and the skin beneath it began to darken. Veins turned black. The cursed blood, sealed deep in the tissue, stirred. Crusch's body shuddered.

The finger began to absorb all the black poison like a leech, veins expanding, convulsing as if alive. Crusch's body began to lose pigmentation, getting dried out of the curse. The finger was once small, a tiny container, but it began to expand. It darkened beyond possible, barely sustaining the large concentrations of dragon blood. Then, it stopped absorbing.

Felix's face was wet. He hadn't realized he was crying.

"I know it's wrong," he whispered. "I know this is what monsters do. But if it saves you… If it brings you back to me… Then I'll become whatever I need to be."

He proceeded to place the monstrous finger on the soft cushioning of the wooden box. The lid closed, sealing away the disgusting curse.

Felix stood up, wiping away his tears of joy. He turned to the door.

"Wilhelm-san…" he said softly. "Lady Crusch will wake up soon."

A wide, tired smile made its way to his face.